Xander's Basement

"I can't stand it, Xander! Why do we have to stay in your musty basement? I mean, Giles and Joyce are off in merry old England, Buffy and Spike are in L.A. and the four of us are stuck here. Do you see the problem with this? That bleach smell is making me nauseous, and it's been too long since you've given me a proper orgasm. A few quickies in the bathroom don't count," Anya ranted as she lounged about in Xander's orange reclining chair.

"Anya, it's not like you have to be here. Nobody knows where your apartment is, or even the fact that you actually have one since you're here all of the time anyway. Besides, Buffy and Spike were in some serious trouble and had to leave," Xander said in a more patient tone than he actually felt. Tara and Willow just watched the interaction between the two with quiet amusement.

"Sorry. It's just that it's white’s day, and the bleach gets to me."

"Xander, honey! Would your guests like some fruit roll ups? I have strawberry!" his mother exclaimed in drunken happiness.

"Ooh! Strawberry is my absolute favorite! Tell her to bring down the snack goodness," Willow said.

"Sure mom!" he yelled back. Maybe Giles and Joyce would come back with good news. But was Anya right? Spike and Buffy were probably living it up in LA while they were all stuck here, bored and restless. Man, he wished he could be there...

*****

"Placenta abruption is when the placenta prematurely pulls away from the wall of the uterus, causing painful, vaginal bleeding..."

Spike continued to listen with a heavy heart as the doctor droned on what was happening to Buffy and their unborn child. Wesley and Cordelia came along to offer support, but all they were really doing was driving him insane. Everyone was talking to him like he was some stupid child who didn't understand anything. Hell, he was old enough to be their bloody great- grandfather. He understood all right. As the old saying goes, shit happens.

Damn, did it ever…

Why couldn't Dru have warmed him about this? Why didn't the idiot doctors of Sunnyhell warn her, tell her about the possibility of it? But, he guessed no one saw it coming. Everything was always "fine and dandy." He needed a smoke, a drink, a kill, anything to take his mind off it all.

They were really pissing him off now.

Idiot doctors. What do they know?

They wouldn't let him see her, hold her hand, be by her side, something! He never felt so hopeless in his entire existence. He became accustomed to always taking charge; doing things his way; making his own destiny.

But then, he thought, what if my past choices was the cause of this? What if Buffy and the baby were somehow being punished for my mistakes? ‘And the child shall pay for the sins of the father.’

What if Buffy blamed him? What if she stopped loving him?

As a vampire, he was never religious. He decided that if he knew nothing of God or the Devil, then why have worries about either? But today, for the first time in nearly one hundred- twenty years, he prayed. To the Powers that Be, to God, to angels, to whoever was listening, to spare his love and their child. He never prayed so hard in his entire existence.

With head bowed and hands clasped, he silently cried as he continued to beseech the higher beings for help.

******

She couldn't believe this was happening. After everything she'd been through, they were just going to rip her baby from her body.

But it isn't time!

She wasn't due for another two and a half months. But at this point, a cesarean section was absolutely necessary. She was utterly terrified. What if her baby didn't make it? An innocent, little baby who had yet to experience life, taken away so abruptly? How could it happen?

She had literally given her life, her youth for the Powers. Couldn't they cut her some slack?

Always sacrifices. It's not fair! she screamed in her mind.

Shortly, her baby was going to be taken from her womb. There was no guarantee if it would survive or not. But maybe, maybe it would all be okay. The baby had to have inherited strong genes of some sort, right? But what if it didn't? What if her baby didn't even live long enough to cry, for her to hold it in her arms? Never get to see it open its eyes, first laugh, first steps... What if she was forced to miss it all?

"No, no, nooo!" she cried out unconsciously, on the verge of hysterics. The pain in her belly was now a constant reminder that she could lose the one thing that she loved more than herself; that she wouldn't get the chance to know what it would become. She decided that if she lost her baby, then she was done.

No more slaying she thought. She was done making sacrifices.

*****

"That lousy, soul ridden bastard!" Darla yelled to herself, punching a hole in the wall. "He left me, again."

"Not to worry, my sweet. He will soon have to take care of you. But now he has to help my William."

"Take care of me? What the hell are you talking about, Dru? I can damn well take care of myself, and you."

"Shh. Don't want to ruin it. Daddy's left a surprise for us all..." she said ominously as she stared at Darla's flat belly.

*****

Much arguing and bitching (from both parties) occurred before Angel finally left a majorly pissed off Darla and headed back home. After having some time away from the whole situation, he decided to support Buffy and (although reluctantly) Spike and their decisions. It was done, after all—there was nothing he could do to change any of it. He was going to feign happiness for them.

Nah. That would be too hard.

Indifference would be his plan of action. As soon as he walked through the door, the scents of blood and fear assaulted his senses.

"Angel, where were- "

"Where's Buffy? Is she okay?" Angel asked, interrupting Fred.

"Sorry man. They took her to the hospital," Gunn explained. Without a second thought, Angel made a mad dash to his car and sped to the hospital.

*****

The doctors decided to try and stop a premature delivery. They put Buffy in a Trendelenburg bed, elevating her hips and feet in an attempt to counter the pull of gravity on the baby. But the doctors soon realized that the bed wasn't enough; the contractions were too strong. They hoped to prolong the delivery for forty-eight hours to give the drug betamethasone a chance to speed up the development of her baby's lungs, and another called Brethine to slow down the contractions. It was Buffy's only hope of holding the baby in the uterus, and every additional hour improved the baby's chance of survival.

In spite of the drugs, the doctors did not make there forty-eight hour goal. Instead, fifteen hours later, Joy Anne Summers was brought into the world.

******

I was in a daze. I remember the doctor saying "It's a girl," and then a whole bunch of strangers taking my baby away. As I stared up at the bright, ceiling lights, I began to cry. I wanted my baby; I wanted Spike; I wanted my mom and Giles. But I was left alone.

Where was my baby? What were they doing to her? Is she all right? When can I see her?

No one would answer me.

There was no absolute reassurance from the doctors and nurses. It was always "We're doing the best we can." What does that even mean? I was sick and tired of the vagueness and being ignored.

A few minutes later, they gave me only a brief glimpse of her to last me the next twenty-four hours. The doctor folded down the flap of the blanket for no more than two seconds before taking her away to the nursery. One of the nurses informed me that Spike would be allowed to follow. This brought me some comfort, but I wanted to be with her myself. Two seconds just didn’t come even close to enough.

*****

A girl. I had a lil' girl. They said Buffy was fine and needed her rest, and I knew she would want me to watch our baby. At first I was terrified. In addition to my own fears, my daughter was now hooked up to a bunch of wires and a tube inside of an incubator. But they were just for monitoring her and a respiratory aid.

No worries, right?

She was so incredibly tiny. But she was beautiful all the same. Pink all over, with fine blond eyebrows and very little hair on her head.

My nibblet. A little bit of Buffy, and a little bit of me. I’m someone’s father.

I wanted to see her eyes. I just knew that if only I could look into her eyes, then she would be okay, somehow...

******

"Angel? What are you doing here?" Buffy asked tiredly.

"Hey. Sorry I wasn't there to- are you all right?" he asked, hovering near the doorway.

"I'm okay. Just drained, tired, distressed, whatever. But you can come closer, you know. I don't bite." She made a small attempt to smile.

"Have you seen the baby yet, or Spike?"

Angel thought about the conversation he had earlier with the wayward vampire. Never before had he seen him so… vulnerable. He never thought he would ever use an adjective such as that to describe Spike.

"It's all my fault."

"No, Spike. You couldn't control this."

"You're right. I can't. But see, that's the thing of it."

"What do you mean?"

"They're being punished because of me. Paying for my sins and I- I can't stop it." He turned away in what seemed in attempt of hiding his face, in shame. Angel gently grasped his shoulder and slowly turned him around. He wasn't crying, but his eyes were glazed over.

"Spike, this isn't because of you. This may not happen more often than not, but it does happen. It happens to lots of other good, decent people out there. Buffy needs you right now. She needs you to be strong," Angel said, pinning Spike with his eyes.

"But what if I can't?"

"You don't have a choice. No matter what happens—”

"I'll never leave her. Whatever happens here today... I'll always be by her side, whether she wants me there or not. I'll be strong, for her."

"And I'll be strong for you, if you let me. What's family for, right? Besides to drive you insane of course." Spike had a ghost of a smile before it disappearing altogether. Angel enveloped him in a tentative hug. Spike responded, hugging him back.

Of course, they would never mention that such a thing actually took place...

"Yeah, I saw him. The doctors gave him one of those IDs and took him the nursery. He wanted me to check on you. He'll be here, though. Just wanted someone not on hospital staff to watch over the baby."

"So, he'll be here later?" she asked sleepily, eyelids drooping heavily.

"Yeah, he- " Angel stopped as Buffy fell into a peaceful sleep, knowing that the baby would be safe under Spike and Angel's watchful gaze.
When she awoke sometime later, Spike was right beside her. He began to smile and lightly stroked her hair.

"Angel's keeping watch now. Everything's gonna be fine. She's getting stronger every minute. Literally you know- stabilized."

"I should explain."

" 'Bout what, luv?"

"Her name. I know it isn't what we discussed exactly, but, she's a person all her own, and needed her own name."

"I know. Besides, 'Joy' is from Joyce- "

"She is joy, to me."

"Me too. And Anne is you and my mum's middle name. Let's face it; Constance is a completely old fashioned name. Rightly so after nearly a century and a half."

"Yeah. And she'll be okay?" He squeezed her hand in reassurance.

"I promise you that. And besides, you should know better than anyone that the Summers’ women are survivors by nature. Of course she'll be fine."

******

Five Days later- Initiative


She couldn't believe this was happening to her. After awhile, her body became numb; she physically became dead to what the bitch was making the vampire do to her. If only she could close off her mind and be somewhere else.

She pretty much accepted the fact that she was never getting out
of there. No one was going to save her. But she started to think that she probably deserved punishment of some kind. But even this treatment was extreme. She might have been guilty of murder, but never torture; it wasn't right.

If only they would stop the drugs. If her mind wasn't so cloudy
maybe...

Gotta love that vampire stamina. No problem in getting it up.

He was always rough and brutal- the more aggressive the more appreciation he got from Maggie.

Bitch.

Maggie would allow him to bite her, and now only fed him human blood (which he so graciously would point out before unzipping his pants and whipping it out. As if he was giving her some sort of justified explanation).

His name was Paul. He said that if she weren't so drugged, she
would be screaming his name in ecstasy. That the fuckin’ Nile would be pouring down her thighs from her being so incredibly turned on by him. He would chant “You like this cock?” as he pounded inside of her. It was insulting, degrading and annoying all at once. She gazed back at him with tears in her eyes. Death would be a relief. Never had she thought of giving up, but she had to wonder: what exactly did she have to live for? No one cared about her. In fact, the people that she knew would probably jump for joy once they found out what happened.

She was less than nothing.

She screwed up as a daughter, a slayer, a friend, and as a human being. Now she disappointed herself. She let her own weakness get to her.

It was only one thought that kept her sane, that gave her hope: Buffy would come. Whether it is to kick her ass or to gain some type of retribution against Maggie and the Initiative, she had to come.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself...