[Reviews - 6]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 4041 times

- Text Size +




I hate hospitals,” Spike muttered under his breath, leaning against a wall and shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced over at the blonde standing in front of the nurses’ station. Her foot was rapidly tapping on the floor and her arms were crossed over her chest. He recognized that position: Buffy the Bitch was about to make an appearance.

“I already signed the admittance forms and filled out the insurance papers. No, I don’t want to speak with her doctor. I just want to see my sister. Her name is Summers. S-U-M-M-E-R-S, Dawn,” she insisted, her eyes shooting daggers at the woman behind the desk.

“Ma’am, if you’ll just be patient for a minute and stop this overreacting—” the nurse spoke slowly.

“Overreacting? Overreacting!? Lady, I’ll show you overreacting,” she raged, attempting to climb over the desk to throttle the nurse.

Spike pushed away from the wall with a sigh and joined Buffy at the desk. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and flashed the nurse a sexy smile. “Excuse my wife, she’s had a difficult night. We just want to check in on her sister. Name’s Dawn Summers.”

The nurse smiled shyly and typed the name into her computer. “Second floor, room 256,” she responded, keeping her eyes averted.

“Thanks, luv,” Spike winked and led Buffy away from the desk.

When they were in the elevator, she shook off his arm and shoved him across the small space. “Did you have to do that?”

“With the way you were acting, we would have been tossed out by security,” he said, exasperated. The pair strode into the hallway as soon as the doors opened. The two uniformed guards standing in front of the door easily identified room 256. With a quick flash of their credentials, Buffy and Spike were lead into the room. Although technically not an agent, Spike was still a card-carrying member of the FBI. He’d insisted upon it when he agreed to work as a consultant. It was hard to get the information you needed without ID to back you up.

Buffy hesitantly walked toward her sister, wary of the IV pole and various machines surrounding her. Perching delicately on the edge of the bed, she reached forward and brushed back a lock of Dawn’s dark brown hair.

She stirred at the touch. Her eyes fluttered open and she groaned softly. “Buffy?”

“How are you feeling, Dawnie?” Buffy asked soothingly, continuing to stroke the younger girl’s hair. She wished she could erase Dawn’s memories of the past few hours. No sixteen-year-old girl should have to come home from school and discover that her family had been murdered.

“Drugged,” Dawn replied, licking her dry lips and swallowing a few times. Fat tears welled up in her eyes and her lip began to tremble. “They’re gone Buffy. Mom, Dad, and Celia are gone.” br>
Buffy gently lifted her sister into a sitting position and held her. “I know, sweetie, I know,” she murmured, letting Dawn cry on her chest. She slowly rocked back and forth, whispering comforting words in Dawn’s ear as the younger girl wept.

After several minutes, Dawn’s sobs subsided. She settled back against the pillows and noticed the man standing behind Buffy.

“Spike, what are you doing here?” she asked hoarsely, her voice still thick with tears.

“Keeping big sis from brawling with the nurses,” Spike quipped, moving to the other side of the bed. He picked up one of her hands and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Are you here to take me home?” Dawn asked hopefully.

Buffy shook her head and turned to look Dawn in the eyes. “They don’t want anyone going back to the house for a while. Besides, I don’t think that’s a good idea for either of us right now.”

“I guess I could stay with Janice,” Dawn suggested.

“Actually, Bit, we had planned on letting you stay with my parents,” Spike said cautiously, smiling in relief when Dawn’s eyes brightened.

“You mean I get to go to England?” She looked to Buffy for confirmation.

“Only if you want to.” Buffy didn’t want Dawn to feel like she was sending her away. “We think it would be best if you stay with Spike’s family for a couple of weeks. We need to catch this guy, but I want to be sure that you’re safe.”

“Are you coming with me?” Dawn’s eyes drifted closed. Her crying bout had sapped a good deal of her strength and she was still under the effects of the drugs they’d given her.

“No, sweetie, I’m not. I need to stay here and make sure this guy pays for what he did to our family,” Buffy answered. She leaned forward and kissed Dawn on the forehead. “Why don’t you go back to sleep. I’ll come back later in the morning to check you out of here. Spike and I are going to go by the house and pack your bags.”

“Okay. Good night, Buffy,” Dawn whispered.

Buffy watched her sister with an unreadable expression for a moment before leaving the room. She wanted to get Dawn’s prescription from her doctor before she left.

As Spike was walking towards the door, Dawn reached out and grabbed his hand. “I know Buffy,” Dawn said solemnly. “She’ll work herself to exhaustion trying to figure this out, or she’ll do something stupid like sacrifice herself to save me.” She stared at Spike beseechingly, willing him to understand what she was trying to say. “Tell her not to worry about me too much. It hurts, Spike, but I’ll be all right. I have to be. Take care of her. I can’t lose Buffy, too,” she implored.

“Don’t worry, Bit. I’ll watch out for her. You get some rest now,” he assured her. Once Dawn’s eyes were closed again, he joined Buffy in the hallway.

“Thanks, Dr. Powell. I’ll call you if I need anything else,” the petite blonde said. Buffy’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ve got some sedatives for Dawn in case she has any panic attacks or nightmares,” she informed Spike, flashing two small pieces of paper at him.

“We can get those filled when we come back later. Let’s go back to my house before we pick up Dawn’s things,” Spike offered as they entered the elevator.

”Can’t sleep. I have too much to do before Dawn leaves. Let’s go get her stuff and get it over with,” Buffy said decisively as she followed Spike out of the hospital and into his SUV.

The ride to Buffy’s house was silent. Spike parked in the street and shut the vehicle off. “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”

Buffy took a deep breath and opened the door. “I’ll never be ready, but I have no choice,” she responded determinedly.

He held up the yellow crime scene tape for Buffy to walk under. There were a few investigators lingering around the house searching for evidence. Spike spoke to one of the officers and they were ushered inside. Buffy avoided the living room and led the way upstairs. Dawn’s room was the second one on the left. Spike watched as she took two suitcases from the closet and filled them with clothes, shoes, and various other items a sixteen year old would need.

“Cold or warm?” she turned to Spike, a blue sweater in her hands.

“What, luv?” Spike was startled out of his thoughts by her question. He’d been occupied with thinking up ways to protect his short-tempered ex-partner without stepping on her toes.

“Will it be cold or warm in London?” she repeated slowly, enunciating every syllable.

“Chilly. Pack the sweater just to be safe,” Spike answered with a smile.

Buffy nodded and folded the sweater. She made a trip to the bathroom and returned with a brightly colored toiletries bag. She zipped up the suitcases and set them by the door. Spike had one of the officers carry the luggage to his car. A backpack was filled with Dawn’s portable CD player, several CDs, a stack of paperback books and her diary. After taking one last look around, Buffy turned off the light and shut the door.

“I just need to get a few things for myself and then we can get out of here,” Buffy called as she moved on to her room. Spike lingered just outside the door, unwilling to invade her personal space.

“Oh come on in, you big baby,” Buffy invited. A duffel bag was tossed on the bed, followed by several pairs of jeans and shirts. Spike turned away when she began stuffing underwear into the bag. Buffy stood in front of her closet, chewing on her lower lip. She abruptly spun on her heel and went into another bedroom.

When she didn’t return for several minutes, Spike went searching for her. Pushing open what looked to be the master bedroom door, he found his charge sitting despondently on the edge of the bed, a red shirt in her hands.

“What’s wrong, luv?” Spike spoke softly, kneeling in front of the blonde.

“Mom… she always borrowed this shirt from me. I tried to give it to her, but she said it looked better on me. Red’s her favorite color,” Buffy’s voice broke as tears coursed down her cheeks. “It stills smells like her.”

Spike pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her slight form. He wanted to say something – anything – but he couldn’t talk through the lump in his throat.

“I miss her, and she’s never coming back,” Buffy wept, resting her head on Spike’s shoulder and clutching his arm. “Why? Why would he want to hurt them?”

“I don’t know, pet, but we’re going to find this bastard and we’re going to make sure he gets what he deserves,” Spike vowed, rubbing her back in a circular motion. They stayed that way until Buffy’s wrenching sobs died down to soft hiccups.

She reluctantly moved away from Spike and reached into her pocket for a tissue. After blowing her nose and wiping her eyes, she stood up with the shirt still in her hand. “God, you must think I’m weak,” she laughed harshly.

“Never. I think you’re one of the strongest women I know. It’s okay to grieve and it’s okay to miss them,” Spike corrected. Standing in this bedroom was not the tough, often bitchy, woman he’d worked with for three years. She looked more like a lost little girl than the brilliant FBI agent he knew. He was pleased that she felt comfortable enough with him to let down her defenses.

They made their way back to Buffy’s room so she could finish packing. Spike carried her duffel to the car while Buffy collected a few personal things. She met Spike in the street, a laptop case and backpack slung over her shoulder. He was leaning against the SUV talking on his cell phone.

“Yes, Dad, it’s just the Bit. Slayer’s going to stay here with me and work this out,” Spike responded to something his father had said.

“Thanks for taking her in. I’ll call you later with the details,” Spike hung up and put the phone in a pocket in his duster. “Dad says having Dawn over is no problem. Mum’s looking forward to having another girl around for a while,” he relayed as she approached. He held open her door as Buffy climbed in the car and shut it once she was in the seat.

“Good. We can go back to the office and make Dawn’s travel arrangements,” Buffy nodded, grateful that Spike’s parents were so willing to watch over her sister. “I wish I could go with her. She shouldn’t be alone right now. I don’t know how she’s going to going to handle this,” she said fretfully, worried about her what her kid sister would do once the trauma really set in.

Remembering Dawn’s last words, the corners of Spike’s lips curled into a smile. “I think the Bit’s stronger than we give her credit for. She’ll come through this just fine.”





You must login (register) to review.