sorry about that, here's the update, back:
Tara sat silently in the dingy waiting room, not saying anything, or moving at all. All traces of the spell had long since disappeared, now everything was as clear to her as it could have been, under the circumstances.
Being in the hospital was making even more depressed; the sharp smell of disinfectant and bleach stinging her nose. The walls were painted cream, just as most hospitals were and there were those ugly, polystyrene tiles on the ceiling. There were about twenty chairs scattered around the sides of the room, but there was no-one in them. After all, it
was, she checked the clock on the wall, 11:56 pm, and eerily silent.
Everyone must be in bed, she assumed.
She stared down at the dark green carpet, thinking about that night’s events;
Oh, god; let her be ok. I should never have taken her outside, I knew the dangers! Especially after doing that spell. It was like sending a flare gun signal to any magical demons. Stupid. It’s my fault she got hurt.“Tara?” Buffy asked softly. She was getting worried about Willow’s friend. She was way too quiet and Buffy had spent the last ten minutes watching the Wiccan stare at the floor.
Why is she so upset? It’s not like her and Willow are that close.When she got no answer, she moved to the blond, putting her hand on Tara’s arm and repeating; “Tara?”
“It’s my fault. We did a spell and it went wrong. Then I took her outside,” Tara admitted, her eyes glistening with welled up tears as her body trembled, slightly.
Seeing Tara was at breaking point, Buffy leaned over and wrapped her arms around the blond in a friendly, reassuring hug. Tara pulled back slightly, but then returned the motion.
“Hey, I’m sure it’s not your fault. And she’s gonna be ok. She has to be,” Buffy attempted comfort, though her own worry for the redheaded hacker was almost overwhelming.
After a minute or two of the two blond girls rocking back and forth slightly in a motion of silent comfort, someone barged loudly into the waiting room, followed shortly by a disgruntled voice calling after them.
“Stop running, Xander! This is a hospital, no place for your antics!” the voice scolded. The voice with a distinct British accent and exasperated tone that could only belong to one person.
“Giles!” Buffy cried, a clear note of relief in her voice, “You made it. We haven’t heard anything yet,” she extracted herself from Tara and rushed over to her Watcher, now hugging the tweed-clad man.
“What happened?” asked Xander. “And who are you?” he questioned Tara, not bothering to be in any way polite.
Buffy answered for the shell-shocked blond,
“She’s Tara. And she’s Willow’s friend. She was there at the attack.”
“Really? What happened?” he asked, sitting down on the low wood-grain coffee table in front of Tara, eager to know the details of why his best friend in the world was currently in the hospital.
“Xander, do leave the poor girl alone. She’s already been through enough,” Giles interrupted, watching the scene before him. The girl was obviously distraught and she looked very worn out, although the dull appearance of the waiting room wasn’t improving anything, of course. His Slayer was dirty and she had a small rip on the middle section of her shirt that had a little blood seeping out. She also had a few more marks on her jeans and her hair was tousled. It would be obvious to the most naïve person that she had just been in a fight. And there was Xander, well, he was just irritating. He’d had to put up with him all the way on the car drive over and the boy had been jabbering on ever since they had received the worried phone call from Buffy. Mainly, the Watcher just hoped Willow would be alright. He, too, wanted to know the details of the attack, after all, Tara had been there before Buffy arrived at the scene but he wasn’t going to push.
“She’ll tell us when she’s ready, won’t you, Tara?” he enquired in a gentle tone.
Tara could only nod mutely at the man’s question, her hair falling over her face, slightly, in the motion.
He must be Mr. Giles, she deduced from conversations she’d had with Willow.
And that would be Xander, she thought, watching the young man get up, exasperated, and pace the length of the waiting room.
On about his eighth pace of the room, a middle-aged, grey haired, plump woman entered the waiting room.
“Relations of Miss Rosenberg?” she asked, everyone in the room paying full attention to her at those words.
“Yes, we’re relations,” Giles spoke the convincing lie, “do you have any news of her condition?” he asked, calmly.
“Yes, would you like me to talk to you in a more private area?”
“Here is fine,” Buffy cut in impatiently from Giles’ side.
“Very well; as you might know Miss Rosenberg took a nasty blow to the head,” the woman started.
Tara just continued to look to the floor, her hands in her lap as a tear cascaded down her cheek to the floor and landed on the carpet with a small splash.
“From what we can tell,” the woman continued, seeing no-one had anything to say in response to her first comment, “there is no permanent damage from this, but you are going to have to keep on eye on her to make sure there is no particularly unusual behaviour or infection in her stitches. She also received a blow to her shoulder and a scrape to her left side. The shoulder isn’t broken but she’ll need a sling to rest it up for a little while. The scrape will be sore, but nothing too serious as long as it doesn’t get infected. All in all I’d say she was very lucky tonight.”
Everyone in the room relaxed, visibly.
“But…” the woman continued, her good natured manner becoming a little pensive. She looked straight at Giles.
“There’s a ‘but’?” Xander interrupted, “What’s the ‘but’?” he demanded, his face once again contorting with concern for his friend.
Tara tensed immediately at the word. She knew what was coming.
“She’s been showing some strange responses. At first, her body didn’t seem to be reacting to anything at all; it was like Miss Rosenberg was in a trance. Then, a little while ago, she began to respond to us, claiming she could see again and telling Dr. Lewis that she could ‘see his true colours’ and ‘don’t worry, she wouldn’t tell anyone’.”
Tara literally breathed a sigh of relief, lifting her head to the woman, her mood brightening intensely.
The spell wore off! She’s gonna be ok! She felt like getting up and dancing around the room, though she didn’t feel it would be appropriate, it being a hospital and all.
“Yeah,” Buffy responded, assuming the woman was talking about side-effects of the spell Willow had done earlier that evening, “She zones out sometimes, but it’s nothing to worry about; we know what to do. Can we see her, now?” she tacked on.
“Yes,” the woman looked a little unbelieving of Buffy’s explanation of Willow’s ‘zoning out’, but said nothing of it. After all, stranger things had happened in this town, “But two at a time. And don’t push her into anything. You’ll probably be able to take her home in the morning; we just have to do a few more tests. Right this way,” the woman walked through the door, Tara and the Scoobies following right behind her.
"Dr. Becker, have you seen the skeleton?" "What do you think I am, a skeleton thief? You want to search me?!"
"Who sponsered career day this year, The Brittish Soccer Fan Association?!" - Xander - What's My Line?
"We'll all be a lot happier without the constant whining....Mom, Buffy, Tara, Waah" - DMW to Dawn
Edited by: Loco2 at: 7/11/02 9:12:41 am
I hope she's okay.
you sure are hard to reply to...... erm. hee hee, next update will be teenier! urm, you mean like you/me mental problems? 'cos i couldn't do that to her 
no you must be mistaking me for someone else...Alysandro...she's my evil insane twin...in leather 
hmmm where did I get that from???
and i think this will get people even wearier of us.....hmm....well at least i haven't been drinking coffee made with half a jar of granules again....
But, it's okay. I'm getting my fix of Giles in the lovely RW's fic.