|
|
Intensive Care -- by Luisa
Rating: PG
Description: Spike recovers from a brutal assault.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
1.
Something warm was trickling down his face...Spike raised a lifeless hand towards it, unsure about what it was. Lately it feeled as if all energy had been drained out of him along with his ability to hurt. He wouldn't be surprised if there were no blood left inside his body. But apparently, that wasn't the case. Red liquid, the substance of life...running down his face. As the thought hit him that he'd been beat up by demons, an almost hysterical urge to laugh overwhelmed him to the point at which it was excruciating just to try and contain it. A mad desire to chuckle...an even madder desire to cry. Spike got up, brushing his hand against his face brutally in an effort not to give in. If he had had a beating heart, it would have stopped the next second. Willow was standing there, gazing at him with what could only be described as a ghostly expression on her pale face. She reached out a hand to him, saying nothing, but he didn't take it. He could still feel the threat of a break-down in his bones and if she so much as touched him, he'd be lost. Turning away from her, he blindly walked out the door. But Willow didn't give up easily, least of all on what appeared to be one of God's forsaken creatures. She followed him with great difficulty. Spike was rushing towards some unknown destination where he could rest and forget. And it seemed the red-headed witch was coming with him. He stopped abruptly and glared at her. Her cheeks were flushed in the dim lamp-light and she lifted a trembling hand to her heart, as if trying to slacken its pulsing urgency. He could hear it, it was ready to burst. If he walked any faster, he'd give her a heart attack. The thought made him smile vaguely.
"OK, Red. You've made your point.", he said drily. Willow was startled.
"What point?", she murmured, summoning her whole life-force to form a coherent sentence.
"You want to comfort me, you're dying to play mother!", he snapped viciously, glaring at her.
"Mother?", Willow almost laughed. "Spike...I want to play friend.", she pleaded, green eyes scanning his injured face for some sign that he understood.
"Friend? I've never had a friend in my life." There was no trace of sorrow in his voice, the fact didn't upset him in the least.
"Things change. You have one now, whether you want it or not." Her usual gentle tones grew firm. Spike sighed. "Fine. Whatever."
To Willow that was enough. She started walking, knowing that he'd follow soon enough. Silence fell between them, a silence full of unspoken words. Willow almost felt as if she could touch them. They were tangible. She looked over her shoulder to make sure he was still there.
2.
Willow decided the best place to take the ailing vampire to was Xander's basement. The crypt would put the wrong kind of ideas into his head and, besides, he needed treatment. His face had been badly messed up by the demons' ruthless assault and Willow wasn't sure what other consequences the incident had had on Spike's already fragile state of mind. He looked ready to throw himself to the lions. Willow could almost feel her own heart break at the sight of his pain. Blood was covering feelings, but she could still read a part of the tragic story in his eyes. He wasn't making it easy for her though.
They finally arrived. Willow opened the back door carefully, looking inside first so as not to startle Xander. He wasn't there. <Probably at Giles'...> She didn't know where he kept his first-aid kit but decided to make do with water and a towel. Spike didn't appear to care one way or another. He dropped down on the couch, unclenching his fists for the first time in two hours. His eyes closed slowly, hiding a faint look of perplexity that had been creeping into them ever since the fight. Willow's gaze turned to him for a minute, then she resolutely looked away and went to fetch one of Xander's towels. It looked less than clean but she quickly turned on the tap in the bathroom and washed it as best she could. When she returned, Spike was exactly in the same place she had left him. She was reluctant to disturb him.
"Spike. Do you want to do this yourself or...what?", she whispered hesitantly, handing him the towel. He opened his eyes and gave her a long, depthless look. His voice was barely audible when he spoke. "No. You do it.", he answered, leaning forwards a little. Willow sat next to him, dabbing at the wounds carefully. He didn't wince. It seemed the pain was coming from inside. It wasn't physical suffering.
Spike had never been through something like it. Not even during his crippled months. His whole existence had been defined by a measure of power that allowed him to do anything he wanted without consequence. Human beings existed for his whims, and demons submitted to his will without putting up much of a fight. Drusilla had been the only creature in his life he hadn't been able to control. But even then, he had known her weak points and taken advantage of them whenever he could. All that was over now. He felt lonelier than he'd ever felt before. There was nobody who could understand, not even the girl. He opened his eyes and stared at her small, solemn face. She was the only person who actually cared about him. It was a strange feeling. His lips turned into what could only be described as the mockery of a smile. Willow dropped her arm slowly, a puzzled frown on her forehead.
"What is it?", she asked.
"Nothing.", he replied. "Everything."
"God, Spike...this is really bad. Will it heal?". Her mind was a whirpool of anguish.
"Yeah. It always does.". He was unconcerned.
"What were you thinking a few minutes ago?" Her voice held nothing but tenderness in it. Spike could almost feel its influence on him.
"I was congratulating myself on being the most pathetic thing the world has ever laid eyes on."
Willow drew back, horrified at the bitterness in his voice. Her hand let go of the towel and moved to his face, resting there while she spoke.
"Don't say that! Don't *think* that!", she urged him. "It wasn't your fault." His hand covered hers lightly and pulled it away from his face, dropping it onto his lap. He didn't let go of it. "How do you know?", he smiled, eyes bleak. "You weren't there." Willow looked away.
"They came at me from all sides. I tried...but it was useless. I feel as if I'm going out of my mind!", he suddenly shouted, running a feverish hand through his hair. Willow gazed at him helplessly. At that moment she decided to put her whole heart into her words.
"Listen to me. You are OK. You are sane. And I'm here. And Xander is here. We'll help you, if you only let us. Spike, we need you. When will you realize that...?", she sighed.
"I came here to kill all of you.", he answered tonelessly. "Including you."
Willow's mind didn't know how to react to this. She was out of her depth, unable to speak.
Spike was still looking at her with a strange, desperate smile on his face. She wished she could say something that would erase it forever. Xander burst through the door at that moment, a tall, dark mass of awkwardness and urgency. As his eyes took in the scene, he opened his mouth several times before any sort of sound came out of it.
"God, Spike...are you OK?", he muttered, brown eyes wide.
"Yeah...I'm still alive." Sarcasm.
Xander put down his weapon bag. Willow's eyes rested on a bandage covering his forehead.
"Are *you* OK?", she asked. Xander shrugged.
"Been better...I need some coffee.", he answered before turning away and heading towards a half-empty shelf. "This is like one of those dreams I used to have in high-school. Only worse."
"Yeah...I have the same feeling.", Willow whispered, following his movements with absent eyes. She got up, joining her friend across the room. Spike didn't move. Making sure he wasn't listening, she pulled Xander aside.
"He's in bad shape. I don't know what to do." Xander was startled.
"Willow, he'll be OK, it was just a fight."
"No! Xander, he has to stay here tonight. He needs us."
Xander smirked. "What makes you so sure of that?"
Willow sighed. "Just look at him." Xander did. His expression changed immediately, taking on a puzzled frown. "OK.", he answered simply. Willow gave him a grateful smile.
"I'm gonna go now. Buffy's probably wondering where I am." Xander glanced at her.
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"No. Stay here.", she answered. No more words were needed. Xander knew what his role was.
3.
He was trying to figure out how best to approach the depressed vampire. Prozac? No. It would probably make him act all drunk, maybe even go nuts and trash the place some more. His parents had been bugging him with prying questions ever since Spike had entered the house.
"Xander, I heard a banging noise last night. What was it?"
"Uh...banging noise...? Uh...I-uh...it must've been the TV."
"You gotta keep it down or we'll have the neighbours complaining."
"Sure...", he'd sighed. And run away as fast as his legs allowed.
Xander pondered on his sad life while the coffee brewed. As he filled two mugs, an idea came into his head. Turning towards a small cupboard he'd found at a flee-market, he took out a bottle of bourbon and poured some into Spike's favourite mug. It had KISS ME, I DON'T BITE written on it in bold, red letters. Xander smiled, heading towards the vampire's corner.
"Here, take this.", he offered, holding the mug in front of him. Spike opened his eyes and grimaced. "Coffee? What, I'm not dead enough already?", he muttered disgustedly.
"I know you don't like it, but it kinda refills your system. Will and I used to pump our veins with this a few months ago.", he grinned. Spike couldn't help being amused. Xander was one funny kid. He accepted the mug.
"So...Willow tells me you're doing the whole "Oh God, why me?" trip.", he said casually, burning his tongue on the scalding liquid. Spike scowled. It was very annoying to be speechless. "I'm just...sick of not killing.", he growled back, glaring at the mug.
"Yeah, life's a bitch.", Xander replied, endeavouring to hide a smile.
"My fangs are getting all rusty, for Christ's sake! And those wankers today...they were fucking *slippery*! By the way, I think I scared the hell outta Red. She probably thinks I'll be pushin' up daisies come morning.", he added mockingly, glancing at Xander's pensive profile. "It feels good to actually be able to scare someone.", he sighed.
"Are you kidding me? The only thing I can scare is the neighbours' cat...I have the scars to prove it.", Xander whined lamely, manhandling the mug with both hands.
"I used to scare the hell outta everyone just by blinking. They were dead afraid. Literally."
Xander sighed gently. "Don't worry, you'll get your bite back one day. And then you can kill us all. I promise." Spike's eyes lit up. "Really? Aw, that's...smashing!", he finished.
"Yeah! And meanwhile you can practise on Sunnydale's ghouls."
Spike snorted. "Yeah...or they on me. I've never been bashed so pathetically...ever!", he groaned. "Still, it was worth it, just to have Red do the Florence Nightingale thing on me. She's one cute puppy.", he murmured, relishing some inner picture of Willow.
Xander gave the vampire his scariest glare. Which failed miserably in its purpose. Spike was grinning.
"Hands off my best friend, Fang-Boy! She's precious."
"I know.Wolf-boy's one sad wanker to have left her alone. At the mercy of predators and all..."
"I'm here to protect her, so beware!", Xander replied menacingly. Spike burst out laughing.
"You?! Brrrrr....I'm so scared. Help, help, Xander's after me!", Spike jeered, blue eyes glinting in the dimness. Xander turned to him.
"Hey! One more word out of you and you'll be sleeping upstairs." Spike grew serious.
"Now there's a gruesome thought." Xander nodded.
"And my Dad snores, so be careful." Spike sighed and leaned forward, picking up the remote. "Anything good on the telly?"
"There's a re-run of something..." Spike almost jumped on the couch.
"Passions?...It's Passions, right?", he asked eagerly.
"No, I think it's Dawson's Creek.", Xander smiled.
Spike groaned, raising weary hands to his blond hair. "Oh no...not that junk again!"
"Hey!"
"Where's the bourbon and howcome I only found out about it today?"
Xander sighed, getting up. <Yep, he's definitely on the mend...>
The End
Tell the author what you think: