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Author's Chapter Notes:
I know i scared you a little with the last chapter but i promise things with pick up....now! on with the story!!!
Chapter 18: A Talk With A Stranger

When Spike came to, all he saw was a blur of faces looking down on him, calling out medical terms to each other and rushing him into a hospital room.

“…minor fracture to the tibia, two cracked ribs and a possible concussion. We need to get him on a drip now!” the doctor stated to the others around her.

Spike let his eyes flutter shut as black clouded over him.

* * * * *

The next time Spike woke up was to the beeping of the machine he was hooked up to. He looked around the dark, empty room with confused eyes. What happened? He thought to himself. “Buffy…” Spike tried to sit up but realized that it only caused him pain.

“Oh, Mr. Giles…please relax. You need your rest. I’m Dr. Reese by the way.” she said making sure Spike was settled into the bed.

“What happened?” Spike asked, his voice hoarse and dry.

“You were in a car accident, sir…you and your wife. You have a concussion and a few broken bones that will heal in a few months, and your wife…” the doctor trailed off not knowing how to tell him.

“Is she okay? Where is she?” Spike asked desperately, hoping to God she was still alive.

“She’s in intensive care. She just got out of the O.R an hour ago. There was some internal bleeding and quite a few wounds that needed to get stitched up.” Spike’s body deflated as well as sighed in relief. He closed his eyes, and noticed pain, as hot tears ran down his swollen eye and cheekbone. For the first time he became aware of the cut and bruises all over his arms and the ones he was sure were on the rest of his body. “She’s in a coma, and shows no signs of waking anytime soon. The longer she stays in it, the less the chances of her ever waking up. I’m sorry Mr. Giles.” The doctor gave him an apologetic look, then when to look through his charts.

“How long has it been since we’ve been brought in?” Spike asked, wanting to know how much longer he was going to have to wait to see Buffy. He knew he couldn’t get out of the bed if he tried, so waiting was the best and only option.

“About sixteen hours. Is there anyone you need to call? Family? Friends?” Dr. Reese asked carefully.

“Yes! My daughter…she was supposed to be spending the night with my mother-in law. It was our anniversary, we were gunna be out all night so she was baby-sitting.” Spike tried to keep his jumbled brain together. He had so many thoughts going in and out of his head he didn’t know what to do. I hope Buffy’s gunna be okay. What am I gunna tell Lana? Why did this have to happen? What if Buffy doesn’t make it? How do I explain this to Joyce?

“Alright, well there is a telephone right here. Just push this button and a nurse will come and help you.” Dr. Reese walked out of the room, slipping his charts back into their slot.

Spike picked up the phone that was sitting on the movable table that was hovering over his lap. Slowly dialing Joyce’s number, he put the phone to his ear and listened to the ringing.

“Hell-o.” the small voice chirped on the other end.

“Hey baby girl! How are you?” Spike tried to sound cheery, but the tears wouldn’t stop once he heard his little girl’s voice.

“I’m good. Nana’s letting me answer phone calls aaall day. She said it’s good for my soc-e-al skills.” Lana told her father, slowly pronouncing the word.

“Social, niblet.” Spike corrected with a small chuckle that made his ribs ache.

“Right! So, when are you and mommy coming home?” Lana asked with a pout that was detected even over the phone. Just like her mother.

“Um…soon, luv. I’ll see you soon okay?” Spike promised, holding back the sob that wanted to escape.

“Mmk!”

“Okay…can pass the phone to Nana please, niblet?”

“Mhmm!” there was clunking sound, indicating that she put down the phone. A few seconds later the older woman came on the line.

“Hello?”

“Hey mum it’s Spike.” Spike had come to call Joyce mum soon after him and Buffy got married, and Joyce loved having him call her that.

“Hi sweetheart…what’s wrong you sound like you’re crying?” Joyce asked with concern filling her voice.

“Buffy and I got in a car accident on the way home last night. We’re in the hospital.”

“Oh my God! Are you two alright?” her heart was racing twice as fast as usual as horrible thoughts flooded her brain.

“No…I’m gunna be here for a while, few months at the least. Got some broken bones and a concussion, I should be fine though…Buffy got it the worst.” Spike’s voice trailed off with guilt.

“William, what’s wrong with her?” Joyce’s eyes were filling with unshed tears knowing already it wasn’t good.

“She’s in a coma. I haven’t had a chance to see her yet, but it doesn’t sound good.” Spike’s voice faded, and both were silent for a minute. “I’m sorry, Joyce. I’m so sorry.” He cried into the phone, guilt and pain washing over him over and over again.

Joyce comforted the young man she came to look upon as a son, as well as crying for her daughter. An agreement was made that Lana was going to come and see Spike and Buffy in the hospital, within the next few days. He needed to see his daughter and she needed to see her parents. Spike hung up the phone and cried himself back to sleep.

* * * * *

After about two or three weeks lying in bed, Spike asked the nurse if it was okay if he could see his wife. At first she was hesitant, but after seeing the look of longing in his eyes she arranged to have a wheelchair sent to his room, along with someone to assist him.

Joyce and Lana had gone to see Buffy about three times a week, hoping that maybe she would wake soon. But there was no change.

As Spike was wheeled to Buffy’s room, he tried to control his racing heartbeat and calm his nerves. For the first time in weeks, he was to see his wife, and Spike had no clue what to expect.

When he first saw her, he thought she was dead. The pale tinge to her face and the dark circles that shadowed her once vibrant eyes gave her a deathly aura. The shallow rise and fall of her chest was almost unnoticeable, and the deep cuts and dark bruises all over her body made his heart clench.

He wheeled himself to her bedside, and grabbed her pale, lifeless hand and brought it up to his lips, leaving a tender kiss on each knuckle. “Hey, baby. You have to pull through this okay? You have to wake up for me, luv. I need you…and Lana needs you. The Buffy I know wouldn’t dare let something like this bring her down. You’re gunna go out fighting remember?” Spike paused letting the realness of what happened hit him hard. Tears ran down his swollen cheeks. “Come on, pet. You wouldn’t give up on me, so I’m not gunna give up on you. I’m gunna be here for you just like you were there for me.” Spike rested his forehead against her limp hand, and cried.

He cried for Buffy, he cried for Lana and Joyce. He cried for how messed up his life got in the time it took for the semi to hit their car, and for how his life would be without the love of his life. Spike felt a slight twitch of Buffy’s fingers, and quickly looked up at her face.

He watched her intensely, waiting for her to wake fully. When she didn’t open her eyes, and showed no sign of rousing from her deep sleep, Spike frowned in confusion.

“It happens sometimes.” A soft voice sounded from the doorway. Spike looked over and noticed the petite blonde standing there with her arms hugging her body. The look on her face was full of pain and suffering. “Their nerves…you may think they’re responding. But they’re not. I’m sorry…I’m Darla.” The woman stated with a bitter smile.

“Spike.” He returned, sniffling. “You visiting?” he asked. He thought that maybe if he had someone to talk to, the load might be a little lighter.

“Yeah…my brother.” She pointed to the teenage boy lying in the bed diagonally from Buffy’s. “He uh…he was shot at, by some drug dealers downtown. He had no part of it…just at the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. He won’t be waking up anytime soon.” Darla lowered her head to hide the tears building up in her eyes. And a second she lifted her head to look at him. “Girlfriend?” she asked, nodding towards Buffy.

“Wife.” He corrected. “We were hit by a semi-truck a few weeks ago. She fell into a coma…she hasn’t woken up.” Spike choked out. “It was our anniversary…we were heading home, our daughter was with my mother-in-law, the night was supposed to be perfect.”

Darla pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. “What’s her name?” she questioned.

“Buffy…she was my best friend since childhood. We grew up together until I was ten, then I moved back to England with my dad. I didn’t come back for years. I wasted so much of my time wallowing in my own self-pity that I missed out on eight years of my best friend’s life, eight years that I’d promise to be there for…and I wasn’t.” Spike glanced over at Buffy, and brushed a lock of hair out of her pale-looking face.

“Why not? I’m sorry I don’t mean to pry…it’s just-I’m sorry.” Darla moved to stand, but stopped when Spike gently grasped her wrist.

“Please…stay. I don’t mind, really. I need to get this out.” As Darla sat back down, Spike continued. “I was diagnosed with stomach cancer when I was thirteen. I was getting treated in London, but my dad wanted me to come here to get treatment. It was more effective, I guess. But I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want Buffy to see me like that. Finally I caved and left England when I was eighteen. Seeing her again just blew me away.” Spike smiled at the memory of Buffy opening the door, and practically leaping into his arms.

Darla saw the love Spike held for his wife in his eyes, and smiled to herself.

Spike continued on with the story that was he and Buffy, letting all the beautiful and the ugly memories wash over him. “-Then about a year after Lena was born we got married.” Spike finished off. It was nice talking to this woman. She listened and actually knew where he was coming from. “So what about you? What’s your life story?”

Darla chuckled lightly. “Oh boy…where do I begin?” she asked herself cynically. Taking a deep breath she started. “All my life, I was in and out of foster homes with Connor.” She nodded her head towards the boy lying in the bed. “A few were ok, a lot were bad…and even more than that were worse. Foster parents are supposed to protect you, take care of you. They don’t. At least not the ones that I ended up with.” She stated with a choked voice. Darla bowed her head, letting her hair curtain her face from Spike, hiding her tears. Lifting her head again to look at her brother, she continued. “I didn’t think it could get any worse until we got split up. I couldn’t protect him like I used to. Some pretty bad things happened to us in those homes everyday that most people don’t go through in their whole lives. I tired to get out of the house as much as I could to see him but it was hard. As soon as I turned eighteen I was out. I started waiting tables at a diner downtown when I was sixteen so moving into my own apartment wasn’t a problem.

I pulled Connor out of the system, and he stayed with me. Everything was fine until a few months ago. He was doing well in school just about to graduate, and my life was starting to pick up…after I finished College I became a dance instructor at a studio on the outskirts of town.” Darla’s face became one of daze. “He was just picking up milk from the corner store for us…I know we don’t exactly live in the good part of town, but no one would have seen it coming.” Tears began to trail down her creamy white cheeks, as she reminisced about the shooting of her brother. Darla had always felt guilt for sending him down that night, and wished with everything she had that she didn’t.

Spike and Darla comforted each other, and cried for their loved ones. Despite the horrible circumstances, Spike was actually glad that he met her. There was someone else in the world that felt the same pain as his, someone he could share the hurt that he felt so deep in his heart. And he could help her in the process. She obviously didn’t have anyone else but her brother, and being alone in the world would be the hardest thing to go through at this time.

He watched her while she spoke to him. She was beautiful, very beautiful. And she clearly had a kind heart, despite what she’d been through. But the relationship that he felt building between them was completely platonic on both sides. The needed solace…and someone to help get through the storm hanging above their heads.





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