~~ Chapter 25 ~ Devil’s Own Luck
Giles stood with Granger and stared in disbelief at the body. That she had been beaten and slashed was evident. When the constables came and told him of this latest nightmare, they said it might have been suicide. Giles suspected they must have been trying to protect him until he could see for himself. This was no suicide. Just a short while ago he was thinking that the vicious attack on Spike and learning of gnarvole demons in the area were the worst things that could happen. Now his mind was alight with hundreds of terrifying scenarios.
“Mr. Granger, is it possible to keep this quiet?” Giles saw the constable’s eyes go wide and quickly added, “It’s not that I wish to conceal a crime but rather find a way to keep it...um...contained. I know that sounds dreadful but so much is at stake. It would be a far greater crime to have to close this school…for the girls’ sake; for the sake of the staff…do you understand what I’m trying to say, Mr. Granger?”
Granger was a retired police officer. The idea of any kind of cover up was criminal. His suspicious mind immediately went to wondering if Mr. Giles was somehow involved, and just as quickly dismissed it. He learned over many years of interviews to allow people to talk. Offer a sympathetic ear…most often, given time, if they were involved, they hang themselves. In a murder, time was rarely an issue. The dead were gone; a speedy solution wouldn’t make any difference to them. “What was it you had in mind, sir?”
Giles explained that the school had a local doctor who was familiar with the special needs of the school on retainer.
Granger wasn’t aware that the school had “special needs.” He wondered how much learning was taking place when they were always running or competing at sports, but special needs? He once thought maybe it was an Olympic-training site. Mr. Granger smiled inwardly and decided to let out his line. He might just catch himself a big fish. Giles found the smile odd, but went on and asked if it would be possible to have her examine the body…without disturbing the evidence…before calling in the official report. He smiled openly when he learned that the local doctor was Leah Bingham and wondered if Mr. Giles knew she was also the local Medical Examiner.
~~~
Buffy was pulling on her high-heeled black boots when she heard a stream of foul language coming from the front room. Her first instinct was to think, “Serves him right,” and then immediately felt badly. If he was swearing like that, it was because he was hurting and trying to be brave in front of this woman. Standing up, she straightened her skirt and checked herself in the mirror. She had decided on the ‘I’m-a-grown-up- too’ look, a basic black knit dress, mid-calf length with a mock turtleneck, very feminine. Demure while making her seem taller. She fastened the clasp on a long liquid silver necklace and checked herself one more time. Hmmm, hair down – sexy. Hair up – dignified. Definitely up! Yes, she was satisfied... A splash of perfume and she was off to see what was going on.
~~~
Nothing could have prepared her for the scene that met her eyes. The doctor was wearing one of those headlamps, not the old reflecting type but a flashlight. Don’t look so hot with that thing on your forehead, do you? Spike lay over the back of the sofa with his naked backside in the air. Ordinarily he has a magnificent ass, but on this day, at this time, under these circumstances it was just gross. Dr. Bingham was kneeling down with the light shining up his butt. Oh, for a camera. Spike looked very uncomfortable. He liked being naked with beautiful women, but not like this. Buffy bit her tongue and listened.
“It’s not good Spike,” she said. So, it’s Spike now…no more Mr. Sanger.
Then it dawned on Buffy what she said. “What’s not good?” she asked.
“Oh, there you are. The wound. Spike told me how you insisted that he soak in the tub to clean the wound. Excellent.”
Buffy blushed, “Thank you.”
“Yes, it cleaned the injured area well enough for me to make a thorough examination. Ordinarily it would be just the right thing to do, but this time...I’m afraid the soaking, rather than just cleansing, may have introduced some bacteria foreign to his vampire constitution.”
Buffy was horrified. “What?” She did something to hurt Spike?
The doctor went on, “As you know, vampires have accelerated healing powers…as do slayers…actually their physiology is remarkably similar. Anyway, in a host with that kind of metabolism, bacteria flourish as well. As I understand it, there have only been a few hours since Spike sustained this injury, yet the infection is quite advanced.”
This was grim. “Oi, since it’s my arse you’re sniffing, how about looking me in the eye when you talk to me?” Spike piped over his shoulder.
“Quite right.” She threw a blanket over his backside and walked around front. “Here’s the thing. Ordinarily I would just suture the wound closed, recommend ice packs for the swelling and warm saline compresses twice a day. Antibiotics are worthless to a vampire, but I’m going to prescribe some anyway. It certainly can’t do any harm. In your case, I recommend we keep the wound open. In fact, I think I should extend it, trim the edges some to allow it to drain properly. It will allow the wound to heal from the inside out. It’s really not that compli...”
“Spike? Are you OK?” Buffy asked as she rushed to his side.
When the doctor uttered the words trim the edges, Spike hung his head and became paler than usual as his knees gave way. Buffy dropped to her knees next to him placing her hand on his shoulders and caressed his face regretting every evil thought she had. She helped him steady himself.
“Thanks, pet.”
Dr. Bingham continued, “As I was saying...”
Spike interrupted, “Right then,”
Startled, the doctor said, “but I wasn’t finished.”
Spike sighed and said, “Yes you were. So let me see if I’ve got all this straight. If I don’t let you do this, what’s likely to become of me, seeing as how you’re the ‘only doc in the world’ that understands the likes of me?”
“Ah, well…your body will try to heal itself and generate new tissue which the bacteria will consume…so you’ll drink more blood and generate new tissue... which the bacteria will consume. In short, you will live forever and never get better!”
“Never?” Buffy asked.
“Oh the swelling will likely go down and your scrotum will return to its normal size and the discoloration will go away, but the open, draining hole in your scrotum will not. Eventually its contents, your testes and accompanying anatomy will be eaten away as well. I apologize if this is disturbing. I’ve never been known for my bedside manner.”
A stunned Buffy said, “Ya think?” She stood up and began pacing. “Well, that’s it then. Let’s get started.”
“Whoa! Whoa! Hold on a mo’, …We’re talking about my bits...my turn to bid.” Spike said as he stood and walked round the sofa to lie down again. He was feeling a bit queasy and since his image had been shattered already, he didn’t want to compound the situation by falling flat on his face.
Buffy’s voice went up several registers, “What is there to talk about? You can’t stay like this.” She toned down her voice, knelt along side him again, and looked into his eyes. “Spike, you’re talking eternity as an invalid….that’s not you.”
His eyes were so sad. “Yeah, but how much has to be cut away?… and I’ll just bet there are no guarantees that that will do the job…I’m right, aren’t I, Doc?” Spike looked into the doctor’s eyes.
“In medicine, there are never any guarantees.” She answered, her tone solemn.
“Can I have a little time to think it over?” Spike said and Buffy interrupted.
“Spike… ?” and then whispered, “Spike.”
The doctor wasn’t finished. “It is not my job to talk anyone into anything. All I can do is present the information as I see it and then leave the decision making in the hands of the patient…Spike?” She directed her question directly to him. “You know that I was formerly connected with the Council so it should come as no surprise to you that I know a good deal about you.” She gave him a warm smile. “From what I know, you would be pleased to know that a great deal of time and money has been spent in the study of William the Bloody.”
Spike furrowed his brow, “From what you know?” He raised an eyebrow.
Her smile widened, “Well…I know that you are vain. I know that you like being something of an enigma. I know that you have embraced every moment of this existence with relish,” she paused for effect, “whether you were being a vicious killer or man in love fighting for his soul.”
While Dr. Bingham was speaking, Buffy got up, went to the chair across from Spike, and observed the scene. She wanted so much to hate this woman, but she was being so gentle….and so honest with Spike, she knew it was best she stand aside. This was between doctor and patient. She had a lot at stake too, but ….well, there was no but…
“Buffy, can I ask you to get me a drink, luv? I think I’m gonna need one. Something for you too, Doctor?” In the midst of all this Spike was trying to be gracious. Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.
The doctor declined and Buffy went to the kitchen to get the drink. She poured him a generous dollop of Jack Daniels and took a seat in the cheerful old-fashioned kitchen. She guessed that Spike wanted to speak to Dr. Bingham alone and although he would welcome the drink, the real reason he asked was to get her out of the room. The cottage was small and the rooms were adjacent. She needed to know what was happening, but she respected his privacy more. She turned on the radio.
Strains of one of the Brandenburg Concertos filled the rooms. Spike smiled. He closed his eyes for a moment while he felt his heart grow warm. Christ, he loved his Slayer.
Spike’s expression was one of determination. He adjusted himself to make himself more comfortable and commented that the doctor should take a seat. He wiped away any thoughts of graciousness when told her he was getting a crick in his neck from looking up at her. Once she took her seat, Spike met her gaze with a look that would freeze the blood of an enemy. Dr. Bingham wasn’t an enemy and she wasn’t impressed with Spike’s bravado.
“Right then, you say you know about me. Then you know that never in my whole existence have I wanted to live more than I do now. When I was a lad I believed in God and I prayed…then there were a lot of years when I didn’t pray…” he lowered his eyes and paused. “Since Buffy…I dreamed of a life with her….I never believed it could be, but you could say, it was a prayer. Then, after everything that happened, I find her again and learn that she wants the same things I do….I don’t know what you think, but I’d call it an answer to a prayer.” His expression was earnest. He needed to know that she understood. He could see it in her eyes. Satisfied, he continued, “My dream includes me being able to make her life easier…lighten her load…she’s strong and she’s carried the world alone for too long…I hoped I could help.” Tears welled in his eyes. “I need you to be straight with me, doc. If I can’t be all that, then I don’t want to be at all.”
Dr. Bingham nodded, she wasn’t surprised at his comments, but she had more to say. “First of all Spike, I think you are selling Buffy short. I know as much about her as I know about you, and I know she loves you. She will not let you give up.”
“It’s not her decision.”
“Isn’t it?” Did you ever stop to think that she doesn’t want a life without you either?”
Spike’s face was revealing. “Not much of a poker player, are you Spike? You never looked at things through Buffy’s eyes, did you?”
Things were happening too fast. There was no time to think…and thinking before acting was never his way.
“I know that she’d say it wouldn’t matter…that she would want me any way she could have me…and that’s all well and good, but if I couldn’t be all that she needs I’d rather die.”
“You should consider that without you, she may not want to live either.”
That gave him pause. “That may be true, but here’s the way it’s gonna be. If you’re going to do whatever it is you do, I need a promise from you that if things don’t go well, you won’t string me along. You’ll be honest with me about the chances of ever getting better…and yes, if you tell me I’ll never get better… I will take an early morning walk…you have to believe me; it would be for the best. Dr. Bingham was shaking her head and about to speak. Spike interrupted her one more time, “Look, you’re presenting yourself here like you’re my doctor….right?” She nodded. “Then you’ve got some kind of sacred oath that binds you, right?” Again, she nodded. “Then, that’s how it will be. Do I need to wave my hands over your head and say “I bind you” three times or something? I haven’t been to a doctor since 1880, I’m not sure how it goes.” He finished...smiling, his tone firm.
“Dr. Leah Bingham chuckled and said, “I’m tempted to tell you that you have to do the ritual, I think Buffy could use a giggle right about now...OK, Mr. Sanger. I’m your doctor and yes, I am bound. I’ll respect your wishes.”
“Thank you.” He sighed then raised his voice and said, “Hey, what’s the holdup out there…I’m parched!”
~~~
Buffy grinned as she slapped her hands on her knees and then stood up. She made the right decision. She made so many mistakes in all their time together, it was cause to celebrate when she got it right. “Don’t be so impatient,” she giggled, “… im-patient… I made a pun.” She carried the drinks into the room on a tray with some crackers and cheese and napkins and saw their blank, unappreciative stares and her face fell. “C’mon…it wasn’t that bad. Loosen up a little, people. Besides, I had trouble breaking the seal on the new bottle. I’m not as strong as I used to be. I can’t believe you finished off two bottles in two days,” she directed the last comment at Spike.
“You can’t believe…? Right.”
Dr. Bingham explained that she had time to do the procedure now. She went outside to get her bag with the things she needed. Buffy and Spike were silent. There was nothing to say. Even though Buffy had given him his privacy with the doctor, she knew if it had come to a discussion, she would have disagreed with his plans. There was no point in making things any more difficult.
When Dr. Bingham came back she behaved as if she did this sort of thing everyday, but was sensitive to the fact that it was not so for them. They positioned Spike on the small dining room table so that he was at a good height for her to work. Spike wanted to drink his anesthesia, but Dr. Bingham said that she carried local anesthetics with her and a few small injections would render the procedure painless. She warned him that it would not remove the sense of touch however, just the sense of pain. He would feel her touching him, and hot and cold, but she promised that she would talk to him throughout so there would be no surprises.
~~~
Dr. Bingham used special scissors and cut away the edges of the wound. “Are you cutting me now?” Spike asked.
“Yes,” she answered.
“I can’t feel it.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” she said. “Swallowing down a whole quart of whiskey in one gulp is an amazing feat. I’m left wondering why I bothered to use an anesthetic.”
Buffy stood at the table opposite the doctor. “I tried to tell you.”
“Yes, you did. Thank you, Buffy.” She continued to work while she spoke. “Before meeting you and Spike this morning and spending some time with him, I thought one should not necessarily believe everything one reads.” She stopped what she was doing and looked at Buffy. “I’ve changed my mind.”
She said she was almost done when she opened a jar and with a set of tweezers, stuffed six yards of yellow ribbon into the hole until his poor balls looked like they might explode. She told them the ribbon was Iodoform gauze and the yellow was special stuff that would help keep the wound clean. The whole procedure took less than fifteen minutes. The doctor packed up her bag, cleaned up what little mess she made and helped Buffy get Spike settled again.
She promised to visit every day to check the wound and remove some of the packing. Finally, she gave him medication for the pain…the packing would be uncomfortable. And while she knew there was no way she could tell him what he could and could not do…she asked that he not drink himself senseless. She wasn’t just being mean, alcohol converts to sugar in a normal metabolism and in a vampire metabolism with an increased capacity to heal, and the sugar provides a treat for the bacteria. In a somber tone, she added, “If you have any hope of beating this thing, we need to slow your healing capacity down a little. I know you enjoy regular food. I’d like you to go as long as you think it’s safe without blood and satisfy hunger only with food...”
Spike interrupted her, holding up his hand to silence her. “You’re an expert on vampires and you think that hunger has something to do with food?” Spike’s tone was menacing. “You’re asking me to put Buffy in danger. I won’t do it.”
Buffy was startled at the vehemence of his reaction. She smiled and said, “Spike, I’m the Slayer, I can handle myself. I know you won’t hurt me.”
“You don’t know anything, Slayer. You take out fledges. You’ve never come up against the likes of me when I’m hungry.”
Buffy raised her eyebrows in shock and smiled, “Oh really, Spike, aren’t you being just a little melodramatic?” Her smile turned into a sneer, “Ubervamp? Ring any bells?”
Spike roared! Buffy and Dr. Bingham froze in place. When he spoke, his voice was deadly. “Right. ‘m not gonna play tit for tat with you, Slayer. ‘m tellin’ you that you don’t know me.” He sighed, hung his head, and wondered if he looked as bad as he felt. “Buffy, I love you. I’ve tried to be a good man...”
“Spike, you are a good man”
“For Christ sake, woman, let me finish,” he yelled. After a moment, he went on; quiet again, “I’m a disgusting, undead thing. I’m a predator. Ask the doctor here, ask her about me.” Spike wished he felt better; he wanted to stand up and pace and wave his arms and roar, “Why do you think I drink, Buffy? Huh? Do you know?”
Buffy was frightened. She wasn’t afraid of Spike but she was afraid of what was happening. He smelled the fear. It was tantalizing. He laughed, an ugly, evil laugh.
“Do you?” He yelled. “Every minute of every day I want to kill something. I want to torture, destroy. If I’m fed, I have control and alcohol dulls the need.” Spike lowered his voice and looked at Buffy...into her eyes. “I can’t do this. Without blood, I’m a threat to you. With blood, the doc says the healing is fucked. It’s lose/lose, Buffy.”
~~~
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Things are not going well for Spike and Buffy and Giles has had better days too.