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Title: Dimension Dementia
Part: 1
Author: SallyMcFine
Feedback: I love feedback. Bring it on!
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and am not making any profit from this story in this or any other dimension.
Thanks: To my beta, Mrs. McFine, for her editing and storyline skills that are out of this world.
Setting: AU/canon crossover
Summary: What happens when a shy, introverted girl is torn away from her world and deposited into a dimension full of vampires, demons, and…a girlfriend?
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Part 1 - Seizure
Willow finished lacing up her sneaker as she sat on the edge of the hospital bed. She checked the clock - 9:07 a.m. Buffy was a little late picking her up, but Willow had expected that. Her best friend had many good qualities, but punctuality was not one of them.
She was more than ready to go home, though, despite her patience with Buffy's tardiness. 48 hours spent in the hospital under observation had bored her nearly to tears, especially since her headache had prevented her from being able to focus on her computer screen or a book. She had watched more television in the last two days than she had in a month, and felt like she had suffered for it.
Willow had been admitted to the hospital two nights ago with a mild concussion after a frantic Buffy had found her unconscious on the kitchen floor. From what they had been able to piece together, Willow had hit her head soundly on the open freezer door after retrieving a dropped box of frozen pizza. Buffy, with whom she shared an apartment in Sunnydale, had discovered her ten minutes later after coming into the kitchen to see why Willow wasn't answering her repeated questions about what was for dinner.
The emergency room doctor had diagnosed her with a concussion. He had noted some anomalous symptoms and had run a series of tests, finally coming into the patient bay where Willow lay on a gurney, the anxious Buffy at her side.
"Ms. Rosenberg," he began, "Is there a history of epilepsy in your family?"
"No," she answered.
He made a mark on his clipboard. "It seems that sometime between when you hit your head and when your roommate discovered you, you had a petit mal seizure."
"Petit mal?" said Buffy. "Isn't that an itty bitty cake?"
"That's petits four, Buffy," Willow replied absently. "It's pronounced differently."
"Ms. Rosenberg, I'd like to keep you overnight for observation, with your agreement, and run a series of tests," the doctor continued. "A concussion is one thing, but a seizure is another, especially if you don't have epilepsy."
"What kind of tests?"
"An EEG, first of all, to rule out epilepsy. And an MRI to rule out any structural abnormalities."
Willow frowned. "What kind of structural abnormality could cause a seizure?"
The doctor sighed. "It's not always helpful to speculate, but one possibility is a brain tumor..."
"A BRAIN TUMOR?" Buffy shrieked.
"Calm down, Miss..." the doctor said, raising his hands in a gesture of appeal.
"Calm down? My best friend is dying of brain cancer and you want me to calm down?"
"Buffy!" Willow interjected. "As far as we know, I'm not dying of anything. The doctor just wants to run some tests. It's probably nothing. Right, Doctor?"
"Most likely," the doctor said, "but we do need to rule it out. Are you willing to stay?"
Willow had agreed, and her overnight stay had stretched into two days as the doctors had run test after test. Not only did she have the EEG and the MRI, but she had blood tests, X-rays, an EKG, and a battery of memory, vision, and hearing tests. When she wasn't being poked, prodded, or quizzed, she was lying bored in her hospital bed contending with a throbbing headache. The place on the back of her skull that had connected with the freezer door was swollen and tender, which made lying down uncomfortable. That, combined with the bland hospital food, daytime television, and the nurses waking her up every hour to take her blood pressure made her anxious to get home.
Footsteps sounded in the doorway, and she looked up, expecting Buffy - but it was the doctor.
"Ms. Rosenberg," he said with a smile. "Going home?"
"Eventually," she said. "Once my roommate gets here."
"I'm here! Sorry I'm late," said Buffy, rounding the corner and entering the room in a breathless flurry of hair, arms, and a swinging purse.
The doctor glanced up from his clipboard as Buffy hugged Willow. "I stopped by to let you know, I have the results from your MRI and your other tests. There were no structural abnormalities detected," he began.
"Good," Willow said. She hadn't been concerned about it in any event - Buffy was sensitive to any hint of cancer since her mother had died two years ago of a brain tumor, but Willow had known it was a remote possibility at best.
"However," he continued, "we did pick up some anomalies with the vision and memory tests. Your peripheral vision isn't quite where it should be, and your memory scored lower than other women your age. Do you usually have a good memory?"
Willow frowned. "I usually have a photographic memory." She remembered the memory tests; it had been a frustrating experience. She was used to seeing something once and being able to parrot it back verbatim, whether it was words, pictures, or a mathematical formula. But every fourth card, she had seemed unable to remember whether it was a rooster or a turkey, or a pig or a cow, or a flower or a spoon on the flash card.
The doctor pursed his lips in an expression of concern. "That's unusual, especially if you're eidetic."
"What did you call her?" Buffy demanded.
"Shhh, Buff," Willow said. "Is it serious?"
"It's not necessarily a cause for concern right now," the doctor said. "It could be related to your concussion - sometimes sudden trauma to the head can cause temporary changes in cognitive function. But I do want to see you again in about a week for a follow-up. If it's gotten better, great, and if it's gotten worse, we'll take steps," he concluded, handing Willow a card with an appointment date and time.
She folded the card and put it in her pocket. "Okay," she replied, and shook the doctor's hand.
"Just one other thing," the doctor said. "Are your parents in town?"
Willow shook her head. "They're on a lecture tour in Europe."
"Is there anyone who can stay with you at night, and check on you during this week? A boyfriend, maybe?"
She bit her lip, resurrected memories of Danny's departure lancing like an ice pick through her heart. Three months later, reminders of his infidelity still hurt. "No boyfriend."
"She's my roommate," Buffy said. "And my best friend. I can take care of her."
The doctor looked askance at Buffy. "All right, but it's very important that you follow these instructions," he said, handing her a brochure about concussions and head trauma. "No sports, no caffeine, and no alcohol. Can you do that?"
Buffy took the paper and scowled at the doctor. "You obviously don't know Willow very well if you think she'd ever voluntarily play sports or drink caffeine. I've got it covered, doc."
He nodded, albeit dubiously, and left the room.
"I don't like him, Will," Buffy said as she helped her roommate into her coat. "He's mean."
"I think he's nice enough," Willow said.
"Got a crush on the doctor?" Buffy asked. "Did you have anything else here, any books?"
"Nope," Willow said. "And no, I don't have a crush on the doctor. He's more your type anyway."
"Dr. Angel?" Buffy snorted. "With a name like that, I think I can say he's DEFINITELY not my type. Dr. Pretentious is more like it."
A cleared throat in the doorway caught their attention. It was the doctor, accompanied by an orderly with a wheelchair.
"Ms. Rosenberg. Escort to the front door, courtesy of Dr. Pretentious," he said dryly.
Buffy's cheeks flamed red, but she shrugged. "At least you're good for something," she retorted.
He rolled his eyes and walked away as Willow lowered herself gingerly into the wheelchair. Usually she was mortified when Buffy picked fights with strangers, something that happened semi-regularly, but today all she wanted to do was go home. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples as the headache, which had never really left, came roaring back with a vengeance. Home. She would feel better at home, where she could lie down and get some uninterrupted rest.
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at "Danny." Gives him a throw-back type of feel. 
I have a feeling that this story is going to be very entertaining… 
to read what you say about the structure of the writing - I strive to make it "tight." (Although with the first drafts, it's not very tight usually, so I owe a lot to Mrs. Beta.) And yes, while in previous stories I wrote from different perspectives in different chapters, I envisioned this story being told solely through Willow's eyes (or at least, only her thoughts - there will be a scene or two where she's not there, later on).
Akyiree
