Title: Deceptions and Betrayals 16/21
Author: Ness
Contact: sessa1_2@yahoo.com
Written: 09/08/2003
Spoilers: Nothing after "Wrecked" in season 6 on BtVS and anything before "Sleep Tight" on AtS. But this is completely AU.
Summary: This one is a sequel to "When You Least Expect It". If you didn't read that one, this will probably confuse you.
Pairings: Cordelia/Giles and Buffy/Wesley
Rating: PG most of the time but there are NC-17 parts.
Distribution: Anyone that already has permission. Anyone else, please ask first.

Disclaimer: We all know who owns 'em and it ain't me. Joss and Co. are gods in their universe, I'm just a peon in mine.
Thanks to Suzanne for the beta. It is much appreciated, Chica. *G*
A/N: I did a bit of juggling with this after Suz saw it, so any and all mistakes are mine--as usual. ;-)
Dedication: This one is for Kerrie. She gave me the idea that ended an almost six month block. She read this puppy even though she didn't normally read these pairings. Now, I've corrupted her or that's what she says anyway. *G* Thanks darlin', you're the best.

When Wesley opened his eyes, he saw that Buffy had fallen asleep in a chair by his bed. Her cheek was pillowed by one hand while the other clutched his. His eyes glided over her features. Even in sleep, she exuded a power that was impressive.

He became aware of a pain radiating from his stomach. Suddenly, the memories came flooding back. His father tried to kill Buffy; he wanted her to die because of her perceived disrespect for the Council. Wesley remembered a searing pain as he pushed Buffy to the floor. He remembered nothing after that. There was a hazy feeling of Buffy whispering something imporatant, but nothing he could pull into clarity.

He sighed.

The movement woke the woman beside him.

Buffy opened her eyes and blinked. "Wesley?"

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak. A croak came out.

"Hold on," she said quickly. "I'll get you some water." She poured a glass from the pitcher on the table. She held the straw to his lips and he sipped slowly. She stroked his hair back from his forehead after she set the glass down.

"What happened?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

"What's the last thing you remember?" She asked carefully.

Wesley knew by the tone of her voice the question was important, he just didn't know why.

"The last thing I remember is landing on the floor after being shot by my father." He tried to bring the whispered words into focus, but his mind refused to cooperate.

Buffy felt her heart fall to her feet. "Nothing else?"

"No." He paused. "I seem to remember something in the ambulance, but nothing for certain."

She turned away from him so he wouldn't see the anguish in her eyes. He didn 't remember anything she'd said on the ride to the hospital. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Buffy?" Wesley asked, concerned. "Are you all right?"

She turned to face him. "I'm fine." She pasted on a smile. "I'll go tell the others you're awake." She bolted out of the room before he could protest.

****

Buffy leaned against the wall outside of Wesley's room. She brushed away the tears that had fallen after she'd left like a hellhound was after her. She steadied herself for a minute before pushing off and heading down the hall.

Cordelia saw her coming; she also saw the stricken look on her face. She went forward to meet her and pulled Buffy aside before she got to the waiting room.

"What happened? Is he okay?" she asked urgently.

"He's fine." Buffy replied.

Cordelia took a good look at the Slayer. "Then why do you look like you've just seen someone die?"

"Not someone, something," was the correction.

"What happened?"

"He doesn't remember." Buffy's breath hitched on the quiet admission.

"Does remember what?" Cordelia asked, trying to figure out what Buffy was talking about.

"He doesn't remember what I said in the ambulance." She looked at the Seer with misery shimmering in her eyes. "The last thing he remembers is getting shot." The Slayer gave a sad chuckle. "Course, I guess that's what most people would remember."

"What did you say to him?"

"I told him I loved him and he doesn't remember." Anguish laced the words.

Cordelia's heart broke at the pain in her voice. "He'll remember."

"What if he doesn't?"

"Then you tell him again," came the firm reply.

"Maybe he doesn't feel the same." It had been so clear to her when she'd been in the ambulance with him. Now she was assailed with doubts. What if he didn't care for her like she did for him.

"Do you really believe that?"

Buffy shrugged. "It's not like I've had the best luck with men, you know."

"The others weren't Wesley." Cordelia admonished her.

"I know that."

"Then why are you being so pessimistic?"

"Because there's a good possibility that everything I saw in his eyes were things I wanted to see and not what was really there."

Cordelia took hold of her shoulders and shook her. "He loves you, Buffy."

"You don't know that." Buffy didn't know what to think anymore.

"Yes, I do." Cordelia gave her another slight shake. "I've seen Wes when he thought he was in love and I've seen him when he was. He's got the real thing for you."

Buffy wanted so badly to believe her.

"Are you okay? Can I tell the others he's awake?" Cordelia didn't know why she was being so nice to Buffy. Most of the time, they hadn't been able to stand each other in Sunnydale. She shrugged to herself, maybe getting older was mellowing her. She went to get Giles and Margaret.

****

Wesley's mother approached his bed with trepidation. Even though she'd never admit it to the others, Cordelia had been right about her choosing her husband over her child. What else could she have done? William was her husband. She ignored the little voice that told her that protecting her child meant more than loyalty to her husband.

"Mother?" Wesley's voice was still hoarse.

"I'm right here." She laid a hesitant hand on his arm.

"Are you all right?" he asked sleepily; the medicine being given to him was preventing him from being fully awake.

Those words sent guilt cascading through her again. He was lying in a hospital bed, fighting a wound inflicted by his father and he was asking her if she was all right.

"I'm fine, Wesley."

He nodded, satisfied she was telling the truth, and closed his eyes wearily.

She watched him for a moment more and then left quietly.

****

Buffy watched as Margaret left the room and Cordelia went in. The doctors had said no more than one person at a time. In a way, she was glad. It gave her time to get herself together before she saw him again. She took a deep breath, God, what a mess.

****

Cordelia softly closed the door behind her and seated herself by Wesley's bed. She'd seen how quickly his mother had gone in and out. She didn't plan on leaving that quick. She sat down and waited for him to open his eyes.

"Hello, Cordelia," he greeted her softly.

"Bout time you woke up," she told him in as close to a teasing voice as she could manage.

"I do apologize for any inconvenience," he said in a shaky, but playful, voice.

"I guess we'll forgive you this time," she replied thickly.

His eyes met hers. "Do not do that," he ordered.

"Do what?" she sniffed.

"Cry. I never know what to say when a woman starts crying." He tried to shrug, but winced at the pain the action caused.

"You don't say anything, you just hold her," Cordelia educated him.

"Well, considering I can't get out of this bloody bed, I don't think I could even do that," he reminded her. "So would you *please* not do that?" he pleaded.

She nodded her head and wiped the tears away.

"How is everyone? My--father?" Wesley hesitated to ask about the man. His mother hadn't even mentioned him, she hadn't stayed in the room long enough to tell him anything. Then again, she'd never stayed in the room long enough to *do* anything. He pushed down the surge of bitterness that thought brought on.

"Everyone's okay. Except--I'm sorry, Wes. Your dad had a heart attack and died." Cordelia knew that wasn't the most diplomatic way to tell him, but she didn't know any other way to say it. Sugar coating it wouldn't make the man any less dead and this way, Wes knew it.

"Dead?" He couldn't quite wrap his mind around it. The man had been such a force, so strong and controlling. Wesley, in all his wonderings, had never pictured him dead. Men like William Wyndham-Pryce didn't die. They made other people die.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Just hurting," he answered.

"I'll get a nurse." She was out of her chair like a shot.

He sighed and watched her go. He wondered who else would come in. He was really hoping it would be Buffy. He looked up as the door opened and swallowed disappointment when Giles was the one standing there.

"Hello." Giles came in and sat down.

"Hello. I'm fine before you ask," Wesley said with a hint of impatience. He *really* wanted to see Buffy. Something had been dreadfully wrong when she'd left the room and he couldn't find out what until she came back.

"I'm glad to hear it," Giles told him dryly.

Wesley flushed. "I'm sorry, I just--."

"You're just tired of everyone asking?" Giles chuckled.

The ex-Watcher nodded.

"Understandable. I would feel the same in your position." The older man leaned back in the chair. He stared until Wesley began to fidget.

"What?" Wesley fought the urge to snap at the older man.

"I was wondering," Giles replied nonchalantly.

"Wondering?"

"Yes. I was wondering just when you fell in love with my Slayer."

Wesley paled and then flushed. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he stammered.

Giles crossed his legs and settled in more comfortably. "I'm talking about taking a bullet to save her life, going to your mother for a loan that would help Buffy keep her home, and pretending to be her significant other in order to protect her from the unwanted advances of another man." He paused to give Wesley a chance to respond.

"I was trying to be a friend to her," was the weak answer.

"A friend that turned into something much more," the man sitting in the chair corrected.

"I, I--."

Giles held up his hand to stop him. "Why would it be so wrong?"

Wesley hadn't been expecting that question. "Because, because--" he stammered.

"Because?"

"She would never, could never, feel the same!" the younger man burst out.

"You don't know that."

"Why would she?"

Giles heard the uncertainty in the younger man's voice and wanted to punish everyone who'd given this man cause to doubt himself. He was honest enough to admit that he hadn't been the most supportive when Wesley had first come to Sunnydale, but they'd settled that months ago. For the man's own parents to have treated him so shabbily was unconscionable. He got control of himself and turned his attention back to Wesley.

"Why would she?" He rubbed his chin as he pretended to think about the question. "Perhaps, it's because you are loyal, caring, and compassionate; all the things that Buffy hasn't had in a very long time."

"It's not enough."

"Why?"

"I could never be sure. Don't you see? She might feel gratitude for me. She might even hold some affection for me. But why would she love me when even my own parents didn't?" Wesley bit his lip at that admission. He didn't mean for it to come out that way and he was ashamed that it had. He heard Giles rise out of his chair and felt him lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Wesley, you are a good man. A good, caring man. If your parents either couldn't, or wouldn't, see that, it is their shortcoming and none of yours. Buffy cares about you, don't throw it away because of your ill-conceived notions of your own inadequacies." Giles looked at him for a minute longer, but the younger man wouldn't meet his gaze. He sighed and left the room.

****

Buffy saw Giles come out of the room and started to go in when a nurse intercepted her.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. Visiting hours are over."

"But--."

"I'm sorry." The nurse's tone was firm. "You can come back in the morning."

Buffy started to protest more when Giles took her by the arm.

"Let us take you home, Buffy. You can get some rest and then see him in the morning."

"I need to see him, now," Buffy protested.

"Buffy, let him think about everything that's happened." He could see that wasn't getting him anywhere. "Besides, he looks knackered. He needs to rest."

Her shoulders slumped as she cast one more look at the closed hospital door before nodding and letting Giles lead her out of the hospital.

****

Wesley heard the nurse prevent Buffy from coming into the room and couldn't decide if he was grateful or resentful. He finally settled on a combination of both. He wanted to see her, but he needed to think about what Giles told him. Was it possible? Could Buffy really feel more for him than simple friendship? That was the question that followed him into his dreams.

****

Buffy was at the hospital bright and early, waiting for the dragon nurses to let her see Wesley. She'd finally gotten the conversation Giles had had with Wesley out of her Watcher. She had no intention of letting this go on one second longer. It was one thing not to remember, it was another to think he didn't deserve her or that she wouldn't care.

The minute hand on the clock landed on the twelve letting all and sundry know it was nine o'clock. Buffy headed to Wesley's room.

****

He was contemplating the tiles on the ceiling when his door opened. He turned his head, expecting to see a nurse. What he got was Buffy, a very irate, woman-on-a-mission Buffy. His eyes widened at the fire in her eyes.

"Is something wrong?" He asked as he struggled to sit up, wincing when the stitches in his stomach protested the sudden movement.

Buffy came to a stop by his bedside and watched him with hooded eyes as she folded her arms over her chest. "You could say that," she finally answered.

"What?" He tried to still his racing heart.

"You," was the soft reply.

Confusion etched itself between his brows. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"No, it's not that you don't understand," she corrected him. "You don't believe."

"Buffy, I--."

She put her fingers to his lips and stopped his words.

"You don't think that I can love you. That I could *want* to love you." She cocked her head to one side. "Why is that?" There was genuine bewilderment in her voice. Then, the bewilderment disappeared when she answered for him. "You think because your parents were assholes that no one else would see anything more than what they saw--which was exactly nothing."

Wesley didn't know what to say to that bit of psychoanalysis. He was fairly certain, however, that he needed to say *something*.

"My parents have nothing to do with this." He winced inwardly. All right, no one said that what he said had to be particularly intelligent.

She gave him a calculating look. "They have *everything* to do with this." She plopped down in the chair next to his bed. "I don't intend to let them have the satisfaction of keeping you and me apart."

"There is no 'you and me'," he denied automatically.

"That's where you're wrong." She leaned forward until she was looking him in the eye. "There is *definitely* a 'you and me' and I intend to see where we go from here."

"Why?"

She looked taken aback at that. "Why what?"

"Why do you wish to see where we might go?" Wesley clarified.

Buffy was pulled up short at that quiet question. She'd talked to Giles last night and he'd been very sure that Wesley felt about her the way she felt about him. But she hadn't actually heard it from Wesley. She was suddenly assaulted with doubts. What if Giles was wrong? What if Wesley didn't really love her? Buffy shot to her feet and stumbled to the door.

"Wait!" Wesley sat up, feeling his stitches tear as he tried to get out of the bed to stop her from leaving. "Ow, ow, bloody hell!" He fell back, holding his stomach.

Buffy stopped at his cry of pain and turned around. His face was contorted in agony and she hit the call button for the nurse before helping him lay down.

"Damn it, Wes! What'd you go and do something like that for?" She didn't know who she was angrier at--him or herself.

"I couldn't let you leave," he hissed through his teeth. The pain he'd felt upon waking was nothing compared to what he felt now.

Buffy wanted to know why, but she waited until the nurse came and gave him something for the pain after she checked his stitches. He hadn't torn them, just pulled them. The nurse gave him a good talking-to and left them alone.

Buffy sat beside his bed and watched as the pain medicine slowly took affect.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," he said wearily.

"You don't need to apologize to me."

"Yes, I do. I seem to do nothing but hurt you and that's the last thing I want to do." He closed his eyes. She thought he'd fallen asleep, but he opened them a minute later.

"You've done a lot more than hurt me, Wes," she told him softly. She saw his eyes darken and realized he'd taken that wrong. She brushed the hair back off his fore head and allowed her fingertips to stroke his temple. "I meant that you've given me a lot of happiness too." She took a deep breath. "I want to tell you something, but I want to be sure you're with me this time." She waited for his nod before continuing. "I love you, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. I love your stubbornness, your Britishness, your loyalty, but most of all, I love your heart." She trailed her fingers down to brush against his cheek. "I love the man that would pretend to be a boyfriend to help a woman who had not been kind to him. I love how you protected Cordelia when she and Giles were getting together." She blew out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not explaining this worth a damn."

Wesley slowly reached up and grasped her hand.

"I think you're explaining it just fine," he told her softly. He turned her hand over and placed a soft kiss in her palm. "I want to say something to you, too, before this bloody medicine knocks me out again."

Buffy nodded once.

"I love you. You are the most extraordinary woman I've ever met in my life. You've shown me time and again not to give up, no matter what the odds may be." He lowered her hand to rest on his abused abdomen. "You've given so much and expected so little in return. You've shown yourself to be compassionate, giving and loving when anyone else in your place would have succumbed to bitterness long ago. I never expected my feelings to be returned, and to find they are is a gift that I'm not sure I will ever be worthy of." He paused to take a much-needed and painful breath and saw her crying.

She saw him start to panic and put her fingers of her free hand to his lips before he could start apologizing.

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," she told him with a soggy chuckle. She watched as the medicine did its job and put him to sleep.

She sat for the longest time just holding his hand and stroking his face. She was in love and for the first time in a very long time the thought didn 't bring her pain. She felt hope and it was an amazing feeling.

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