Another post-Becoming2 story. This time it's Willow's thoughts. It takes place sometime shortly after the episode ends. Be warned: There are minor spoilers from pratically every 1st season Buffy, and many for 2nd season Buffy, including Passions and Becoming 1 and 2. Enjoy!

Musings From a Wheelchair

We don't say what we are thinking, not one of us. The obvious is left unspoken. I guess we're hoping it isn't true. If we say it, we'll be admitting it. We dare not tempt fate.

We knew she was the Slayer. We knew what dangers she faced everyday. We knew most Slayers don't even last as long as she has. But she is Buffy. Nothing can happen to her.

She has saved out lives countless times. I barely knew her for twenty-four hours before the first time. I would have been food for the Master along with Jesse. Xander would have lost his head, literally. Amy would be stuck in her mom's body forever. I would still have Malcolm/Moloch as a "boyfriend," Cordelia would have been scarred by an invisible force. All of Sunnydale would be running from the nightmares still. The Master would have risen and this damned hellmouth would have destroyed Sunnydale.

Spike and Dru would've 'partied', Xander would have had the life sucked, or kissed, out of him . . . he does have bad taste in girlfriends. I would be stuck as a ghost. Sunnydale's sick kids would have been picked off one by one. I could go on and on

Buffy has saved out lives so many times. She has saved the world so many times. How could this thing beat her?

No, none of us dare speak aloud. But inside we all have the fear. We all think she is dead. And we all make pathetic, feeble excuses. We avoid the topic like it is the plague.

I sort of think it would be better if we knew she was dead. People would probably mistake my meaning, and I really don't wish my friend dead. But if she were dead, at least we'd know. At least there'd be finality. We could mourn her and then move on with our lives. Right now all we have is this emptiness inside of us. We just don't know. That is worse than discovering her dead. We can just wait, hope, pray and wonder. Wonder if Angel defeated her. Wonder if Angel is even Angel. Wonder if Buffy is hurt. Wonder if she lays in that building, unable to move, waiting for us to come, to help her. Wonder if she is in hell. Wonder. Wonder. Wonder.

And I'm suck in this damned wheelchair, unable to help, an invalid. I shouldn't even be here at school. I'm not strong enough. But I had to do something, anything.

"Willow?" I blink and am shaken out of my reverie. "Willow," Oz has to say again before I regain by bearings.

"Yes?" I ask.

"We have to go in now. School's about to start."

I nod and he starts wheeling me to my classroom. I am lucky to have him, so lucky. He loves me, and shows it.

I think I love him too.

The End
Revised January 27, 2001