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Spike awoke in a hospital bed, with a major headache. He felt like her had been run over by a large mad truck driver. ‘Did somebody get the license plate of the bloody fool?’ He silently asked himself. He tried to open his eyes and found it to be a very bad idea. ‘Ok…either I’m in Heaven…or that damn truck is still standing a few feet away from me.’ When the pounding in his skull became too much to handle he immediately shut his eyes tightly closed once again. As the memory of the previous night started to come back to him again, he groaned.

Buffy looked up from the book she had been reading for her English literature class in school and looked towards the bed Spike was currently lying on. At first she thought that she had imagined it, but when she heard a faint, “oh bollocks,” she sat the book down and slowly walked over to the bed, afraid that her mind was conjuring up the sounds out of desperate hope. “Spike?” She whispered.

Spike wouldn’t have been happier to slip into oblivion and never come back. He tried to shut his eyes even harder but quickly realized it made the pain in his head intensify that much more. “Oh bollocks,” he groaned. Spike thought he heard some shuffling from somewhere within the room he had been placed in. He didn’t think anything of it, figuring that it was his stepbrother ready to give him a lashing at for once again acting like an idiot and putting himself in danger. But when he heard Buffy’s soft voice whisper his name, he slowly tried to pry his heavy lidded eyes open. His vision was blurry at first, so he blinked a couple times until his eyes focused on his angel. His savior. His best friend. His Buffy. ‘Wait a second,’ he thought, ‘When did she become my Buffy?’

His thoughts were interrupted by Buffy when she said an, “Oh my God,” and the tears she had been fighting to keep in started to slide down her cheeks silently.

“Buffy?” Spike croaked out. ‘Hold on,’ he thought, ‘what the bleeding hell is she doing in the bloody hospital looking after my sorry ass?’

“Buffy?” He said, a little more steady this time. “Buffy, what are….” He couldn’t finish what he was trying to get out, cause he suddenly had his arms full of Buffy holding on to him as if he was her lifeline, when the truth of it was, she was his lifeline. His head was pounding louder then ever, but he wasn’t about to ask her to move away from him, even though he knew that he really should.

Buffy started to sob into his shoulder as the relief of him returning to her once again hit her as hard as a train would. She started chanting over and over into the crook of his neck “Your ok, your ok.” It had been three in a half days since she had gotten the call that he had OD’d, and the doctors were beginning to worry that he wouldn’t make it.

“Shh, pet…it’s alright, luv, I’m right here.” He said as he tried to sooth her. His memories were still coming back to him, but only in pieces. So there he lay, his head beating a beat he wish he couldn’t hear, the girl he had loved since he could possibly remember lying in his arms, while he was in a hospital bed for being a stupid pounce. Even after all that, he still couldn’t wait to get the bloody hell out of there so that he could do it all again.

As he lay on his back thinking of all he had and had lost he heard Buffy say, “What do I have to do to make you realize how wrong this is? What else do I have to do to help you through this? What else do you need, Spike?” She pulled back to look at him, letting him know that this time she was talking to him directly. “What is it gonna take?”

His eyes held such pain physically and from the emotional roller coaster that he put her on. Even through she thought it was lingering pain left over from Drusilla.

“I don’t know anymore, sweetheart.” He let out a sigh, “I don’t know.” He let his hands fall from where he had been resting them on her lower back, and she willed her body away from his warm one. She dried the remains of her tears with the pads of her fingers, and then moved across the room to pull the chair she had been sitting on closer to the bed, and took his right hand in her smaller one.

They stayed in that position far a while, holding hands and staring into the others eyes, each searching for something different, completely at ease with the silence that surrounded them in the tiny room.

“Buffy, why…”

“Angel said…” They said at the same time, as if reading the other’s mind. They both cracked smiles at that thought, both finding it a little scary. “You go first,” Buffy said, wanting to hear the sound of his voice as another reminder that he was really here with her again.

“Buffy, why are you here, pet?”

“What do you mean, why am I here?” ‘Does he honestly believe I wouldn’t find out that he was here and come to see him?’ Buffy thought, for a moment, “Oh,” was all she could say when realization came crashing into her. ‘He doesn’t want me here with him.’

She stood up and put the chair back, “Well then, I’ll just…yeah.” She trailed off as she started for the door that would take her out of the room where her heart was currently breaking to pieces, already filling the beginnings of moisture filling within her eyes.

Spike looked confused as he saw Buffy walking towards the door, apparently head set on leaving. “Umm, pet?” He said, wanting to know what he had said to upset her so much as to make her leave him. She stopped and looked over her shoulder barely, enough for her to see him, but not enough for him to see anything on her face besides her cheek. She couldn’t let him see her crying, even if he had thousands of times before, this time was different, even if she couldn’t figure out why. She had already decided that she didn’t want anything more with Spike then friendship. ‘So why am I so miserable?’

“I’ll understand if you don’t want to be here, but… why are you leaving?”

“What do you want me to do, Spike?” She asked in a barely auditable voice. Luckily the small room lacked in supplies that a lot of the hospital rooms had, so other then the heart monitor’s faint beeping, the room was silent, which allowed a small echo to be in the room, which was the only way he was able to pick up on what she was saying.

If Spike wasn’t confused before, he definitely was now. “What do I want? What are you talking about, pet?”

“What I’m talking about,” She replied with frustration slipping into her voice, seemingly forgetting that she had been wanting to hide that fact that her face was soaked with tears, “Is that one second you want me here and the next you don’t. I’m your friend Spike, not your convenience.”

She obviously was caught up in the moment of not thinking of what she was saying, or other wise she would have noticed the look on his face that made it seem like he was dying on the inside. “I never said that I didn’t want you here, and you have always been more then a convenience to me, you know that.”

“You don’t have to say you don’t want me here, Spike. I can see it in your eyes. And I may as well be a convenience to you compared to your drug addict whore named Drusilla, who happened to dump you on your ass and left me to clean up the pieces.” By this time she was yelling at him. Luckily the door was closed, they could only hope that it was semi sound proof, but at this point she was beyond caring who heard her anymore.

Spike’s eyes narrowed, “Do not ever let me hear you comparing yourself to that bitch.” He put so much venom into the statement that she instantly came back from her rage fit. “Drusilla is all the things you said and more, just wish I would have noticed it before I did. Her name isn’t even worthy to come out of your mouth, let alone even be in the same sentence as you.”

Buffy fell to her knees, not knowing hat to say. She began crying in earnest as his kind words swept over her. She didn’t know what to do anymore. She didn’t know how to help him, she didn’t know how she felt about him anymore, and she couldn’t even figure out what he was trying to tell her when she was standing right in front of him. So much confusion bottled inside of her for over a year in a half finally came forward in the form of a crying fit that she had no control over.

Luckily, the only thing attached to Spike was an IV on the top of his hand. Upon seeing her fall to her knees he had took of the tape the doctors had put over the needle to keep it in place, and then preceded to take the needle itself out of his hand. Once there was nothing restraining him from going to her side, he stood up and set the needle on the small table that was in the room and then walked over to where Buffy was still crying on the ground, and knelt down in front of her.

Running his hand through her hair made her realize that someone was now in front of her. When she looked up, tears still pouring from her eye at an unbelievable pace, and saw Spike looking back at her, she didn’t know weather to be angry, relieved, or upset. Angry because the same look of pain was still in his eyes and he was trying to judge weather it was for her or that other bitch. Relieved that it was only him and not some stranger walking in and seeing her in the state that she was in. Or upset because he should’ve stayed in the bed where the doctors had put him so that he could get better.

In the end, her second instinct won over the others, and she through herself into his arms, seemingly forgetting why he was there in the first place.

Spike didn’t mind, in fact he had been waiting for her to make the first move towards him. He didn’t want to try and comfort her only to find out that she didn’t want him to. He willingly wrapped his arms around her small frame, now huddled up against him, and started rocking her back in froth in a soothing motion.

When Buffy showed no signs of stopping anytime soon, he pulled her back a little so that he could look at her face. Her eyes were screwed shut so hard that it looked physically painful, her cheeks were red, her mouth was opened in the shape of an O, she was barely drawing any breath into her lungs, and her chest was heaving.

He pulled her completely away and grasped her shoulders. She did the same to him, trying to get back to his comforting body. His grip on her became stronger and he started to shake her slightly then with more force. When nothing happened besides more tears, he yelled her name right in her face. This appeared to do the trick, as her eyes flew open and stared at him as if she just realized that he was sitting there.

“Listen to me, luv.” He once again returned to using a soothing voice so he didn’t scare her and throw her into another crying fit. As it was, her tears were still falling down and her chest was still having problems drawing in the air that it needed. “You need to stop this, and I mean right now. Do you understand me?” She shook her head yes. Spike knew, from past experiences, how to deal with her when she was like this. He had helped her through it many times before. The only thing that pained him this time was because it was over him, again, that she had a panic attack. It killed him to know that he was the reason of her suffering, because god knew that she didn’t deserve it.

He noticed Buffy closing her eyes, but not as tight as they were before, and knew she was trying to concentrate on her breathing to get it to regulate again. He pulled her close once more, and she rested her chin on his shoulder so that he could hear her breathing to make sure that she wouldn’t pass out.

She was finally calmed down and her breathing back to normal, her tears started coming less and less until there was no more falling, just the remains of their lines that ran down her pinked cheeks. Spike was still feeling a little dizzy, but he wasn’t about to leave her sitting on the tile behind the door. It was too much of a risk that someone would walk into the room and hit her in the back and it might send her back into another attack, but he didn’t want to continue to sit on the floor because his lags were starting to hurt from the position he was sitting in. He pulled Buffy as close to his body as he could get her from the odd angel they were in and hooked one arm under her legs and his other one around her shoulders in a firm grip and then tried to haul them up from the ground and move them towards the bed.

Once he got close enough, he set her down on the edge of the bed, her legs still hanging over the edge. He then moved the other side and elevated the top half of the adjustable bed and then climbed up onto it. Once he was comfortable he looked over to Buffy to find her looking over at him, watching his every move.

“Come ‘ere, pet,” Was all the encouragement she needed to move closer to him. The small bed didn’t allow much room for them to lie side by side, so she climbed onto his lap and rested her head on his chest. Spike spread his legs a little so that from her waist down she was lying on the bed, which took the pressure off his legs.

Spike had one hand running though her hair, and the other one caressing her back. Buffy’s own fingers took to drawing small patterns over his left breast, with her other hand trapped between them. It wasn’t long before her fingers became lazier, and then the light traces became non-existent as the full weight of her tiny hand rested over his heart and she fell sleep.

Spike knew the instant she drifted off, as her breathing was now completely regulated one more. He looked over at the clock above the door and realized almost two hours had gone by since he had woken up, and in that time the nerves he had shot and the exhaustion he had worked out was now taking it’s toll on his abused body, and he closely followed Buffy into Dreamland.

This was how Joyce found them when she arrived half an hour later. She smiled and then walked out and gave Spike’s doctor instructions to have Buffy call her when she was ready to come home. And for him to tell her that she wanted her to come home TODAY.





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