Chapter 43: Waiting
She had to make it through this. She had to. That thought was like a broken record, skipping over and over in Spike’s mind. Buffy had to be ok. Nothing else mattered so long as she woke up, so long as she was alright.
The doors to the waiting room in emergency slid open, Buffy’s frantic mother rushing in and toward the nurse’s station.
“I’m here to see my daughter, Buffy Summers.”
Spike’s breath sawed in and out of his lungs as he fought the panic building within him again. Joyce shouldn’t be having this conversation. She shouldn’t be visiting her daughter at the hospital and if it weren’t for him she wouldn’t be.
The guilt was crushing.
A few minutes later Joyce walked away from the nurse—having been told that Buffy was being treated and that someone would be out to speak with her soon. Her gaze drifted around the waiting room, her eyes floating over Spike unseeing, before snapping back to him and filling with fury.
“What are you doing here?”
It was a simple question, voiced as a demand, one that Spike knew he had to answer but didn’t know how. How did you tell someone that you were responsible for putting their child in the hospital? For hurting Buffy?
A lump of emotion the size of a basketball formed and then lodged in his throat, and he swallowed harshly several times before he could answer. “I—I was with her when it... when the accident happened.”
Once again Joyce’s expression shifted, away from fury and back to concern. “What happened? Tell me everything, I need to know what happened to my daughter, how she came to nearly dro—”
Joyce’s voice cracked over the word, unable to finish it. “She’s such a good swimmer, I just don’t understand.”
With a shaky breath Spike realised Joyce didn’t know much at all about the incident. “Buffy is a good swimmer, a brilliant swimmer.” A ghost of a smile curled the edges of his lips as flashes of memory floated through his mind.
The first time he saw her swim, before he knew it was her... watching her towel off in the racing two piece, which was when he first began to realise his attraction to her... the day of the water fight when he pinned her against the wall, the feel of her pressing against him, and the way her eyes widened with shock when she realised exactly what her squirming was doing to him... the meet in LA, her winning all of those events... seeking solace in the pool only to find her already occupying it.
All of those happy times spent together, all of those memories he’d tried pushing away since the break up that he now desperately held on to. Spike shook his head to clear the fog, feeling Joyce’s firm stare fixed on him.
“I know that,” Joyce fretted, pacing the small length of the waiting room. “So what happened?”
“She fell, bumped her head on the edge.” Spike swallowed hard, for the umpteenth time. “She blacked out, which was why she...”
Didn’t swim...
Joyce’s hands fluttered anxiously above her chest. “How long was she under the water?”
Under the water... the words triggered an instant flashback, and Spike closed his eyes against the nightmare playing through his mind once more.
“Less than a minute...” He coughed, trying to clear his throat, and ran a hand through his hair. He was still dripping but had forgotten in all the panic. His hand came away wet and he wiped it along the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, feeling water run from his hair down the side of his face. “I dove in after her.”
Joyce eyed Spike closely, watching as his eyes glazed over. He face was pale, almost ghostlike. And he looked like he was going to throw up, or scream—possibly both. He was in shock. He was worried. And he looked like his heart was breaking.
Had her first priority not been her daughter Joyce may have taken a moment to consider why.
Spike’s mouth began moving, and she could see the struggle in his face as he fought to get the words out.
“She wasn’t breathing when I pulled her out.”
Joyce sank into the chair behind her, her eyes filling with more tears.
“But she’s breathing now?” It came out as a question and Joyce watched as Spike’s expression became equally more worried and determined. “She is breathing now, I saw her breathing, I saw... and they didn’t have her hooked up to anything. She is breathing—right?”
“Yes.”
With that one word Spike seemed to fold in on himself.
Joyce resumed her frantic pacing of the waiting room.
The doors to the street opened, bringing Angel, Willow and Xander. The three of them approached Joyce quickly, asking their own questions.
Spike felt their glances in his direction, heard Xander’s whispered, “What’s he doing here?” and withdrew further from the group, taking up position near the doors Buffy had passed through, and waited.
Waited and hoped and even prayed.
He’d never really been the praying kind, but at this moment he was willing to try just about anything, do anything, if it would make sure Buffy would be alright.
Spike fought back tears as he relived the moment over and over again. With each image of her sailing through the air the knot in his stomach and the lump in his throat solidified further.
What if she didn’t recover?
What if she didn’t wake up?
~*~*~
An eternity passed with no news.
A nurse tried to get him to change out of his wet clothes once and Spike nearly bit her head off. No-one tried again. He didn’t care about his wet clothes—and they were pretty much dry now anyway—all he cared about was Buffy.
The one doctor that walked by was accosted for answers, but he knew nothing. Buffy wasn’t his patient.
Questions were asked of the nurses by Buffy’s mother, and her friends, but no-one would tell them anything. Each of them just delivered a practised line of, “They’ll have you an update for you soon.”
It had to be bad news. Spike was convinced.
Why else would they not tell them anything?
He clenched and unclenched his fist around the edges of the blanket, the fabric straining under the force of his suffering.
Then the doors opened and Spike knew they would finally have some answers.
And he froze.
The doctor walked past him and toward Buffy’s mother.
Joyce was on her feet immediately, and was quickly surrounded by Xander, Willow and Angel.
“Mrs Summers?”
“Yes,” Joyce replied quickly, her hands fluttering once more. “Is there any news? How is my daughter? Is Buffy going to be ok?”
“Your daughter is going to be fine.”
Joyce inhaled sharply with relief before wrapping her arms around herself. Xander whooped with delight and hugged everyone at least three times, including Angel. Willow began crying, again.
The doctor kept talking to the others, but Spike didn’t hear a single word.
“Your daughter is going to be fine.”
She’s going to be fine.
Buffy’s going to be alright.
Spike knew what he had heard but the words weren’t sinking in, not completely. He didn’t know if he’d truly believe she was ok until he placed his eyes on her, could see for himself. He doubted he would be allowed near her, despite her earlier questions it was obvious Joyce didn’t trust him or want him anywhere near her daughter. Not that he blamed her; he didn’t blame her at all.
“Did you hear that Spike? Buffy is going to be fine.”
Spike looked up, his eyes taking a moment to focus before he saw Willow standing before him. Her cheeks glistened from spent tears but her face was filled with joy.
Before he could say anything he was tackled by the small redhead.
“You saved her! You saved her, Spike.”
Tears formed in his eyes but he blinked them back.
He was not the hero, far from it.
Before he could shrug free from the surprise embrace Willow had released him and bounded back to the others. He watched as Joyce was taken through to see her and it finally began to sink in a little more.
She’s ok.
Buffy is ok.
~*~*~
Angel walked out into the waiting area and scanned the room, his eyes finding Spike straight away. He’d been standing in the same spot for the last two hours. The only difference was that now he wasn’t confronting every doctor entering or exiting. He seemed to be lost in thought, staring into space. The expression on his face was only marginally less stricken than it had been earlier.
It wasn’t until Angel was right in front of him that Spike’s gaze focussed. He saw how the blond swallowed once, twice, as if trying to get his voice to co-operate. His assumption wasn’t too far off, for when he did speak Spike’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
“Why?”
Angel frowned. “Why what?”
“Why’d you lie?”
The frown faded with understanding. “I didn’t, not really.”
“Buffy didn’t trip over her bag, Angel,” Spike said almost wryly. “We both know she’s in the hospital because of me, because of what I did.”
Angel shushed Spike and looked around urgently; ensuring no-one was listening in to their conversation. When it was all clear he shook his head. “It was an accident Spike.”
“No,” Spike denied. “It was my fault.”
“It was an accident,” Angel insisted more forcefully.
Spike noticed how Angel didn’t refute the fault, and was glad they agreed on that at least. “An accident that happened because of my stupidity.”
Angel was quiet for a moment, as if making a decision before he continued. He sighed. “The circumstances of her fall may have been embellished Spike,” he admitted quietly, looking around the waiting room again. “But the details, the important details, those were all truth.”
“But why? I don’t—”
“Understand? Believe me, I’m not even sure I do.” Angel hung his head, scuffing his boot against the floor. “I know things, things Buffy told me.” When it seemed Spike was going to interrupt Angel raised a hand to silence him. “Just let me speak for a minute, ok?”
Spike nodded his assent.
“Buffy told me things, in confidence. Things I can’t share,” Angel said clearly. “What I gathered, what was completely obvious from everything she said, was that she loves you.”
Spike felt his heart clench. “Did, maybe. But not anymore. She can’t. Not after everything that’s happened.”
“No, Spike.” Angel shook his head. “She still loves you. It’s why—”
When he didn’t continue Spike had to ask. “Why what?”
A frown marred Angel’s brow. “I can’t say, not without breaking my word.”
“Angel...”
“Just know that it’s because she cares about you. She didn’t want you to have to make sacrifices, not when...”
“What sacrifices?” Spike demanded. His desperation to know, whatever it was, that Buffy had shared with Angel animated his expression. His voice rose as he continued.
“What sacrifices Angel?”
Angel shushed Spike when a few heads turned in their direction. He put a hand on the blond’s shoulder and led him a little further away from the listening ears and prying eyes. “Would you keep it down?”
“Just bloody tell me,” Spike hissed urgently. He had to restrain himself from grabbing Angel around the throat and shoving him against the wall.
Angle was quiet for moment, seeming to consider relenting to Spike’s insistence, before nodding once slowly. “If I tell you, you can’t tell her I said anything.”
Spike’s reply was immediate, his ire deflating instantly. “I promise.”
“Not one word.”
Spike nodded.
Angel paused again for a moment before nodding himself. “There’s a whole situation involving her father and college.”
Realisation struck like lightning. He’d had a conversation with Buffy, what seemed like an age ago, about her pushy father. He’d promised they’d work something out, some way for her to stay. Spike clenched his fists by his sides, grit his teeth. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten!
“I know. Well I mean, I knew something was going on but it wasn’t concrete before,” Spike clarified.
“We’ll now it’s steel reinforced,” Angel quipped half heartedly. “If she doesn’t agree—”
“—he’ll sell her mother’s house,” Spike finished. He could kick himself for being so forgetful. Well while this explained some things it didn’t answer all of Spike’s questions. Even if she did move—which let’s face it was highly likely because Buffy would put her mother before herself—he’d go with her. Spike would pack his bags and move across the country to be with her, she had to know that.
“I’d have gone with her,” he murmured.
“She knows,” Angel said. “And she couldn’t let that happen.”
Spike’s gaze snapped up. “What? Why?”
“Do you really think Buffy would want you to do that? Pack up your life here and follow her halfway across the country? She’s not selfish enough to ask you to do that.” Angel shook his head. “Besides, if you had gone, you just would’ve been another pawn for her bastard father to push around?”
“But...”
“Think about it Spike,” Angel urged. “Your little conversation at the hotel, do you really think he’d just let his daughter be with someone who stood up to him?”
Spike reared back in surprise. Buffy had obviously shared more about their relationship with Angel than he’d expected. “She told you about that?”
Angel nodded. “I told you man, Buffy shared things with me. She needed someone to talk to and—”
“And you just happened to be available?” Spike sneered.
“Don’t be a jackass,” Angel retorted. “She talked to me because we’re friends. That’s all.”
“Only because she doesn’t want more, but the second that’s even hinted at—”
“Give me some credit man,” Angel sighed with exasperation. “Yes, I’m interested in Buffy. I’d have to be blind and stupid not to be. But I’m not trying to come between you two, I never would. And you should know that.”
As much as he wanted to fight what Angel was saying Spike knew he was right.
“I’m not trying to come between you two man, that’s all her father’s doing.”
Reminded of the situation Spike clenched his jaw in anger. “He couldn’t keep me away from her, not if she wanted me there,” he insisted.
“Exactly. So if you wouldn’t leave her...” Angel trailed off.
“She wouldn’t leave me,” Spike denied. Okay, so in the face of the obvious fact that she had left him he realised how stupid his comment sounded. But he just knew he was right. Buffy wouldn’t just give up on him, on them, without a reason.
“Her mother’s house.” It was so obvious, Spike couldn’t believe it didn’t occur to him earlier.
** FLASHBACK **
“Brown, Princeton, Dartmouth, Harvard, Yale, Penn, Cornell, Columbia. Applying for the whole lot, huh?”
“Yep,” Buffy replied. “They’re the best you know.”
“Yeah,” Spike agreed distractedly.
“So.”
“Does the thought of being around me bother you that much?”
“I just can’t be around you,” she whispered. “A clean break, that’s what we need. It’s better for both of us this way.”
“What?”
“It’s for the best.”
“Best for who,” Spike spat.
“For both of us.”
~*~*~
“You said you loved me. Do you remember that?” He came to a stop directly in front of her, a hand lifting to tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ears. Her eyes fluttered shut at his touch and he began to hope that maybe he was getting through to her.
“You don’t give up on the people you love after one fight.”
Tears were shimmering in her eyes and he softly brushed her cheeks.
“I’ve made my decision. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
** END FLASHBACK **
“Please don’t make this harder...” Spike whispered beneath his breath, shaking his head and forcing the memories back.
“The house,” Angel confirmed.
“So we’d fight him, find some way to stop him.”
“And risk you getting in trouble? She wouldn’t allow it.”
“He couldn’t keep me from her.”
“But he would keep her from you.”
“No,” Spike denied with a vehement shake of his head.
“Of course he would Spike,” Angel refuted. “Do you think she wants to get you caught up in all this mess? She’s trying to protect you from it all.”
“But...” Spike wanted to refute what Angel was saying but he recognised the truth in his words.
“And on top of that he’s threatened to fight her mother for custody.” Angel shook his head in disbelief. How a parent could do that to their child was unbelievable to him. “It wouldn’t matter that she’s going to be eighteen soon, he’d always have the house to hold over her.”
“And once he had her—” Spike began.
“—he wouldn’t let her go,” Angel finished.
“Bastard.”
“Yeah.”
“She could have told me,” Spike said quietly. “I had a right to know, to make my own decision.”
Angel shrugged. He didn’t really have a response to that one. He understood Spike’s perspective, he did have a right to know. But he also understood why Buffy chose not to tell him. Both sides had merit.
They were quiet for several minutes, standing awkwardly as they both considered the reality of the situation.
The silence allowed Spike to think, which brought the events of the afternoon rushing back once more. He closed his eyes, tried to push the thoughts away.
“I’ve really messed things up.”
“Yeah,” Angel agreed with a scoff. “You have.”
Spike lifted his gaze sharply, and Angel raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa, calm down. You said it, not me.”
Even if there was a way to work around her father’s machinations Spike knew he’d already wasted his chance with her. They could find a solution, had to find some way to ensure Buffy and her mother could make their own choices in life, not have them forced upon them. But there was no way he could ever make up for the fact he endangered her life.
He would do this for her, had to find a way to help her. He’d have to keep it a secret though, keep Angel’s confidence and not let Buffy know of his plans. She’d try and talk him out of it. That is, if she’d ever talk to him again, something Spike highly doubted.
The door opened behind them, breaking their reverie, and Willow walked out.
The noise startled Spike, reminding him once more that he was the reason they were at the hospital in the first place. At once the grief and remorse and panic overwhelmed him.
“She wants to see you.”
Willow was looking directly at him but Spike didn’t seem to register what she was saying, that she was talking to him.
“Spike, she’s asking for you.”
Spike blinked once slowly, a glimmer of hope flickering in his chest. She was awake! And she was asking for him. He wanted nothing more than to run to her, but he didn’t know if he could. How could he face her?
“Well go in, you idiot,” Angel grinned. “Before you make me reconsider not pursuing her.”
Spike’s glare was deadly.
Willow rolled her eyes. “Spike, you are an idiot. She’s exhausted, and awake, and she’s asking for you. Joyce is speaking with the doctors so you’ll be alone. Are you really going to stand here and tell me you won’t go see her?”
His expression softened, turning hopeful once more. “She really wants to see me? You’re sure?”
“Yes! So get your ass in there already,” Willow commanded.
Spike didn’t need to be told twice; he dropped the blanket from his shoulders and ran.
~~~~~~~~~~
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Author's Chapter Notes:
A/N: It's been a loooooong time between updates, thanks to RL interruptions and a harddrive eating 15 chapters of this. (Yes you read that right, I had 15 chapters sitting and waiting to post before my harddrive crashed.) But I've recovered most of it and am determined to complete this. Making Waves has been a WIP for too long so I'm dusting off my keyboard and focussing on getting it finished. I just hope that people still want to read it!
Chapter End Notes:
Hope you enjoyed it!