Chapter Twelve
Is it Progress?
It was four days since Buffy had burst into Spike’s room at Rosedene with such disastrous consequences, and she’d spent the time at the Old Hyperion. It had been difficult to leave Rosedene but Moira had made her see sense.
The property had several cabins in the far reaches of its grounds. They were used when a patient’s partner came to stay and they had children. The guest room in each suite was too small under those circumstances. Moira had told Buffy that she could have the use of one from tomorrow. Buffy had promised her that there would be no repeat of what she’d done and that she’d wait until Moira gave her permission to see Spike again. She just couldn’t bear to be so far away from him; she wanted to be there in an instant should he decide to see her. She hadn’t bothered to unpack her clothes and so her suitcase was now waiting ready for the morning and her return to Rosedene.
There was a clatter and then a curse from below. Buffy ran down the stairs to see what it was. Angel was standing there with the remnants of the front door in his hand.
“I guess I should have left a key,” he said dryly when he saw her.
Despite feeling angry at Angel for keeping the truth about Spike being alive from her for so long, she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, sorry about that but I was in kind of a hurry.”
Angel threw the door down and strode over to her putting his arms around her and drawing her in close.
“I’m sorry, Buffy,” he whispered.
Buffy wanted to yell at him, to hit him for all of his lies but instead she simply burst into tears.
“Oh Angel,” she sobbed, “It’s just so awful. He won’t see me and he looked so ill…and he can’t walk…Angel, you know how much he’ll hate that…” Her words were lost in a fresh round of sobs.
Angel didn’t say anything, just held her tightly until her tears had subsided.
“Sorry,” said Buffy eventually, pulling out of his arms. “God, Angel, how did we come to this? What a mess.”
Angel’s unbeating heart went out to the tiny blonde - she looked so disconsolate. He didn’t have a clue what to say to her and so wisely said nothing, hoping that it was rhetorical.
“So tell me what happened again. I didn’t really take it in when you told me on the phone. I want to hear everything about Spike from the moment he reappeared to now.”
“Okay, let’s go and sit down somewhere comfortable. It’s going to take a while and I don’t know about you but I need a drink. I thought I was never going to get home. A bomb scare tightened security and I only managed to get on a plane after two days of hiding in the hanger.”
The pair went up the stairs and into Angel’s bedroom. Angel sat in an easy chair and Buffy perched on the edge of the bed. He poured them both a measure of whisky.
“Right, well it all started when I opened a package in my office nineteen days after the Sunnydale Hellmouth was closed…
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Spike lay on his bed. It was almost time for his last dose of medication for the day. It contained what he looked forward to from the moment he awoke in the morning - strong sleeping pills. It meant that he could have a respite from the pain in his legs and a few hours of peaceful oblivion. If he had his own way he’d prefer to sleep the whole time.
There was a tap at the door before it opened, “Here we are, Mr. Williams. I’ve brought your meds.”
Spike groaned quietly as in walked Tina, the most irritating of all the staff he’d encountered so far and the only one that didn’t now call him Spike.
“Are you all comfortable and ready for the night?” she asked in the squeaky voice that set Spike’s teeth on edge.
“Yes,” muttered Spike.
“Do you need help to relieve your bowels?”
“No.” He managed to force the word out between his clenched jaws. “God, just shut up and get the hell out.”
“Oh well, you know just to press for help if you need to in the night,” continued Tina, unaware of the effect she had on the patient. “Here are your pills.”
She passed Spike a small plastic cup with four pills in it. He smiled as he saw his beloved blue ones in the cup next to the anti -inflammatory pills he had throughout the day. She poured him a glass of water from the pitcher on the table next to his bed. He took it and washed the pills down with it, drinking all of the water, knowing from experience that the drugs worked quicker if he did. He handed her back the cup and glass and mumbled his thanks.
“Goodnight, Mr. Williams.”
“’Night.”
Alone again, he lay back on the bed and pressed the controls, lowering the top of the bed until it was almost but not completely level, the way he preferred it to be as he slept. He closed his eyes and waited for the drug - induced sleep to come. His thoughts turned, as they had ever since she’d burst into the room, to Buffy. He ached for her to be with him but knew that it just couldn’t happen. He wondered why she’d never gotten in touch after Andrew had discovered that he’d survived the Hellmouth. Okay, so he’d told Andrew not to tell anyone but the boy had never been able to keep his mouth shut. Spike hated the fact that she only turned up after Angel had told her what had happened to him.
He was dreading the next day. Brad had been so pleased with his progress that he was going to get him into a wheelchair in the morning. Spike just couldn’t get his head around how sitting in a wheelchair could be called progress. Thankfully the drugs kicked in and he drifted away from his disquieting thoughts.
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Buffy woke up with a bit of a hangover. Angel, true to his word, had filled her in with everything he could about Spike. Together they’d drunk too much, laughed and cried, not going to sleep until the early hours of the morning. She couldn’t believe that Andrew had actually kept his promise to Spike and hadn’t told her. He did hero-worship Spike so that must have been the key to his silence. The things that Spike had gone through she could hardly comprehend. She’d grimaced when Angel had told her of how the deranged slayer Dana had hacked off Spike’s hands. She wouldn’t have been so sympathetic to her if she’d known. The girl was still under lock and key, too badly broken to mend and lead a normal life. Thankfully the powerful shamen attached to Wolfram and Hart had managed to reattach his hands good as new.
Buffy got up after spending the night, like all the others, snuggled in Spike’s bed. Her stomach felt queasy but that was more due to the fact that today she could go back to Rosedene House than the hangover. She had an appointment with Moira at ten thirty and then she’d be shown the cabin where she would be staying. She’d called Moira every day to see how Spike was doing. Buffy had been heartened to hear that the physiotherapist was working with him and the general consensus was that Spike was beginning to settle in.
Buffy took a long hot shower before dressing and going downstairs. She was greeted with the smell of coffee and was touched that Angel had taken the trouble to make it for her. Unlike Spike, apart from liquor, Angel didn’t touch normal human food or drink.
“Morning Angel,” she said as she walked into the office.
“Morning, Buffy.” He offered her a cup of coffee, remembering how she liked it.
“Thanks, just what I needed.”
He smiled at her and produced a box of doughnuts. “Not the healthiest of breakfasts, I know, but I thought that you might like one or two.”
She peered into the box, “Oh yum, chocolate.” She pulled one out and bit into it greedily. “Mm, good cure for a hangover, I think.”
“So how are you today?”
“Okay, I guess. I’m nervous about going back to Rosedene but hopefully Moira will help convince Spike to see me soon. I mean, he does love me, right?” asked Buffy anxiously.
“I’m certain of it, Buff. It’s just his pride that made him push you away. He was the same with me in the hospital.”
“Are you going to see him today now that you’re back?”
Angel hadn’t told Buffy about Spike asking him to turn him but he knew he couldn’t keep away forever. Spike needed someone, even if only to yell at.
“Yeah, I’ll go and see him. Hopefully he’ll let me. I’ll drive you and see him while you’re talking to the manager,” he replied.
“Thanks, Angel. It’s good that you and Spike had actually started getting along better,” said Buffy with a smile. She was pleased that Angel would be there as she could do with someone to lean on.
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Spike woke up reluctantly, trying to cling to sleep. He hated that his day started with him having to be helped to use the bedpan. Perhaps Brad was right? Maybe getting into the wheelchair and being able to use the toilet was something to aim at?
He pressed the buzzer for help, secure in the knowledge that it wouldn’t be Tina again since she had worked late the night before. He was pleased to see that it was Carl who came to help him. He felt less embarrassed when one of the male nurses helped him.
By nine thirty he’d eaten his breakfast and was waiting for Brad’s arrival. He felt tense and just wanted to get it over with. He glared at his useless legs and tried to move them, but only his toes took any notice of the messages he was sending. Admittedly they were moving more than immediately after the operation but he still felt panicked that they hadn’t improved futher.
“You look happy,” said Brad sarcastically as he walked into the room, startling Spike.
“Yeah…well…sodding things still won’t hardly move,” said Spike grumpily.
“Things take time, Spike. Don’t push it,” replied Brad.
“Suppose I’ve got plenty of that now, haven’t I?” said Spike with a sigh.
“Shall I go out and come back in again?” asked Brad with a grin, trying to prod Spike out of his depressive thoughts.
“Go and don’t some back at all if you like, and take that sodding thing with you,” said Spike, eyeing the wheelchair with distaste and deciding that he really wasn’t ready for this after all.
“It’s a good thing that I don’t take offence very easily,” said Brad, “Nervous about this, I take it?”
Spike didn’t reply, he just glanced up and met Brad’s eyes for the first time that morning, his expression telling Brad all he needed to know.
“Got something that you might be pleased about,” said Brad, taking a bag off the seat of the wheelchair and holding it up.
“What’s that then?”
Brad tipped the contents onto the bed.
“Thought you might like to get out of that hospital gown, although it has to be said blue does suit you.”
“If you say that it goes with my eyes I’ll hit you,” said Spike with a grin. He liked Brad. He was the only one of the staff that didn’t seem like they were walking on eggs all of the time they were with him.
“Better not say that then, you’re pretty strong,” joked Brad.
“So what have you got me to wear?” Spike pulled at the pile of clothes. “At least you got the colour right.”
“Figured that I couldn’t go wrong with black,” replied Brad. “It’s just sweat pants and a t-shirt, stuff that’s easy to get in and out of,” said Brad, “Let me help you get dressed and we can get started.”
“Won’t be needing those,” said Spike, as Brad handed him a pair of underpants, “Never really seen the point of them.”
“Is that right?” grinned Brad.
Spike just smirked and raised an eyebrow in reply. Then it hit him. His reason for not wearing them was so that there was one less thing to take off when he was with a girl.
“Shit, those days are over.” There hadn’t been so much as a stirring in that department since he’d been injured. Not even the prettiest nurse, Carol, had had an effect on him, though he was sure she would have before. He didn’t think it was just because he loved Buffy either.
Brad noticed Spike close down again. He put the underpants back into the bag. “So what’s your view on socks?”
“What?” asked Spike, “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“Just need your opinion on socks.”
Despite himself Spike couldn’t help but smile. “Socks are fine.”
“Well that’s good to hear,” said Brad, “Okay, let’s get you out of that gown.”
He helped to pull it off Spike and then gave him the t-shirt to put on. Brad caught Spike’s anxious look when he picked up the sweatpants. So without making a fuss he showed Spike how to pull his legs up one at a time. Lifting them by the back of the knee and drawing them towards him with the foot on the mattress until he could reach to thread the pants over his feet. Spike was surprised at how heavy they were. The fact that Spike could move his feet a little helped him to get them into the legs of the pants. The tricky part of pulling them over his bottom was achieved by laying his legs flat again and then leaning over one way and then the other and giving a good tug. Spike was disheartened at how hard it all seemed and how long it had taken.
“Shall I do your socks for today?” offered Brad.
“No.” said Spike sharply, “I’ll do it.”
Brad gave him the socks and then stepped back, pleased that Spike’s stubborn streak was working for him for a change instead of against him. Spike leaned forward and pulled his left knee up until his foot was within reach. He concentrated hard and made his toes lift up from the bed. He pulled the sock on and then slid his leg back down and repeated it with the other, grunting with satisfaction when he managed it. He glanced up at Brad who had the good sense not to say anything patronising like ‘well done’.
“Looks like you’re good to go.” He wheeled the chair closer to the bed.
Spike swallowed hard and nodded.
“Okay, the first thing to do is to get the bed as low as we can. It should go just about level with the seat of the chair.” Brad pushed a button on the controls and the bed started to drop. “There, that’s it,” said Brad, “This can be a bit tricky to start with, okay? So don’t beat yourself up if you can’t manage without a bit of help from me.”
“Want to try it on my own first, though,” said Spike quietly.
“Sure, just let me talk you through it one time,” replied Brad before explaining how important the positioning of the chair was and what to move first.
“Have you got that?”
Spike nodded and with determination he followed Brad’s instructions to the letter. He had a bit of a wobble which made Brad tense himself, ready to move in to prevent Spike from falling, but he righted himself and made it into the chair safely.
“’S nothing to it,” he panted, grinning at Brad.
“Trust me, Spike, most people struggle with that for quite some time. You’re really strong.”
Spike felt ridiculously pleased to hear it.
“One thing I need you to wear, though, before you try to get into your chair if I’m not here is this.” Brad passed Spike a loop of cord with a piece of plastic hanging from it.
“What is it?”
“It’s an emergency buzzer. If you fall or anything and need help, you can press that and someone will come straight to you. It’s just a portable version of the buzzer near your bed.”
“Okay.” Spike grimaced a bit but put it over his head and made Brad smile when he tucked it out of sight beneath the neck of his shirt.
“Shall we go outside for a while? You’re really pale. A bit of sun will do you good.”
Brad couldn’t understand why Spike seemed to think that comment was hilarious. The time in the hospital had faded what little tan Spike had acquired before the injury and he was vampire white again.
“I feel like you’re having a private joke at my expense. Remember, Spike, I can really get my own back on you tomorrow when I start working on your legs,” he said as Spike struggled to stop laughing. It was a good sound and one that Brad had feared he’d never hear.
“Sorry mate,” snorted Spike, “Yeah, I could do with a bit of a tan. Do you reckon I’ll freckle?”
“God knows,” grinned Brad, “Great room, this. You can get outside without having to go all through the corridors.” He stepped behind Spike to push him.
“No, I can do it.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” he said, holding his hands up in mock defeat and stepping back to his side.
Spike put his hands on the wheels, his stomach turning over at how familiar it felt, even after all these years. He wheeled his way to the door. After a few attempts he managed to open it and propel himself out onto the patio and into the warm sunshine. He raised his face to meet its rays, closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.
“Good to be outside again, isn’t it?”
“It is,” agreed Spike, “Does this thing work off road?”
“What? Do you want to go onto the lawns?”
“Yeah, thought I’d get the lay of the land so to speak,” replied Spike.
“It’ll be fine on the grass. It’ll be a bit harder to push, though, so I’ll help you and no argument. It’s only because of your right arm. It’s not up to full strength yet and you need to be careful of it.”
“Okay, you can push,” said Spike, “but don’t take me near anybody else, all right? I just want to see the view, not make conversation.”
“I’ll go wherever you tell me. So where to first?”
Spike pointed to the far side of the lawn, “Over there I reckon.”
tbc
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BANNER BY DAWNOFME
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BANNER BY DAWNOFMEAuthor's Chapter Notes:
thanks to Carol whether a pretty nurse or a beta!! LOL!!