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Chapter 16
The clinic that the Watcher’s drove them to was almost forty minutes away from the warehouse. Buffy was situated along the first backseat of the van with Spike kneeling next to her body, keeping her makeshift gurney as still as he could. Giles sat in the front passenger seat with another Watcher driving. Two watchers sat behind Buffy, silent through the trip, all listening to the soft breathes of the legendary Slayer. Riley was ushered in another van not heading towards the private clinic. Spike didn’t care what happened to the Army brat, just as long as they would find his bitch, Sam. His demon raged inside of him as he stared at Buffy, his mate, his love. Tiny moans broke through his brain, alerting him to Buffy’s pain. He smelled the drugs on her, the stench of the toxic combination of sedative and something else mixing with her blood. Spike monitored her heartbeat, the not so steady hum of the blood as it rushed through her veins and arteries. He didn’t even realize he was growling until Giles turned around in his seat, “How is she?”

Spike couldn’t answer, only shook his head in dissent, his hand clutching at Buffy’s torn clothes. With tears threatening to run down his cheeks, Spike looked out the window; they were now in London, passing the older buildings on the way north. They drove past the Council’s headquarters, not bothering to stop to tell the occupants that they had retrieved the Slayer. “Spike,” her whisper was inaudible to everyone in the van except him. She moaned a few incomprehensible words and fell back into her drug-induced state. Spike’s throat constricted, he felt like bile would rise through his gut and escape, but he knew it wouldn’t, it couldn’t. Buffy’s heart rate dipped again, even shallower and slower than before. The only movement was from the bouncing of the car on the old roadway.

After another fifteen minutes, the van slowed to a stop in front of an unmarked building. Giles slide out of his seat and opened the back door. Spike growled, his demon feeling trapped. “Spike,” Giles sighed, “They didn’t spend all this time and energy to save her just to hurt her again.” Placated by his words, Spike helped them get the gurney out of the van and into the building. They were met by two doctors and three nurses inside the door. Inside, the building looked like any hospital. They laid Buffy’s beaten body on a rolling gurney, running her down to an exam room as quick as their human legs could pound on the tiled floor. Spike refused to leave Buffy, running after them quickly. He heard Giles shout, but paid him no heed; he refused to let Buffy out of his sight. He stayed out of the way, knowing that she needed medical help more than his presence near her side. He chewed on his thumb nail, pacing in a small space, watching the doctors pull her blood, taking her vitals, and hooking her up to a bunch of machines. He heard the doctors grunt and whisper their medical terms to each other. Spike itched for a cigarette, felt the need in his bones, but he stood in the room, refusing to leave.

A few hours later…

The doctors were gone now. About thirty minutes after she came in, her body started to move. At first, it was a twitch here and there, but it soon escalated in her whole body trembling. She seemed to calm when Spike got near, his voice, his touch, even his scent would calm her. He grabbed a stool and carried it over to sit next to her bed. The bruises on her face were now clean, thanks to the nurses that took care of her. Spike liked them with their gentle touches and voices seemed to not only calm Buffy’s nightmares, but also his. He watched her labored breathing, counting in his head how long it took her to take the next breath.

He didn’t feel the moisture running down his face, or notice his blurred vision. He sat next to her, barely touching her, trying to will her well. He hadn’t seen Giles yet, but was unwilling to go looking for the watcher. His demon kept tracked on the humans in the small private clinic; he knew no one had left and everyone still carried a steady heartbeat. He sniffed, noting a nurse coming closer to the room. “How is she?” The nurse popped her head into the room.

“Same, heartbeat down a few beats again and heart is pumping less.” Spike managed to choke out.

She came around Buffy, opposite to Spike, looking over the monitors. “Hmm,” she adjusted the IV flow and checked Buffy’s pulse. “She’s not responding to the drugs like she should. Maybe have to up the dose.”

“Bloody, got enough drugs in her,” Spike growled then his eyes softened, “Sorry, Melanie. Is not your fault, have they figured out what was given to her?”

She shook her head, “I’m sorry, Spike. The lab is working double time, triple time, and quadruple time on it.” She lifted the blanket on Buffy, feeling her rib cage. “She isn’t healing properly. We are going to have to reset those bones.”

Spike looked up at Melanie, shocked, “Aren’t healing properly? She’s the Slayer, she should already be knitted back together.” Spike kicked back the stool when he stood, wincing at the noise that sounded. The chair flew across the room, hitting the wall, and coming to a stop.

“No, feel this…” She touched Buffy’s torso, “That’s definitely in the wrong place and still broken.” Melanie pulled the sheet down further, revealing Buffy’s naked skin to anyone that could walk in the room.

“Bloody hell, stop… she wouldn’t want everyone gawking at her bruised bits.” He grabbed the blanket away from Melanie, holding it so if someone would walk in, they wouldn’t see Buffy’s body. Her legs were purple with red deep lacerations and punctures dotting their way across her limbs.

“You’re right, she should be healed… at least half these things should be almost healed,” Melanie moved her examination down Buffy’s body, “It’s almost as if…” her whispered voice trailed off. Spike felt the fear start to roll of her, her body temperature rose, and her breathing quickened.

“Like what?” Spike growled, angry that he hadn’t noticed Buffy not healing faster.

“Nothing,” Melanie grabbed the blanket from Spike, covering Buffy’s body up again.

“That wasn’t bloody nothing. What is going on?”

“I’m not a doctor, Spike,” she tried to reason with him. Her hands were up, palms facing him in a placating gesture.

“Tell me what the doctors aren’t telling,” his brows were nit together, intensely concentrating on not ripping Melanie’s throat out, he already suspected what she was about to say.

“Dying. She’s dying, Spike.” Spike knew she was sincere when her eyes twinkled with tears.

“Go,” he growled, he needed to kill something, anything; and he didn’t want it to be the nurse who was nothing but kind to him and Buffy.

“I’ll get the doctor,” she said, trying to make it better.

Melanie stepped out of the door as someone entered, “Spike,” he heard her voice and he couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t bear for her to see Buffy like that, to see Spike like that.

“Nibblet,” Spike choked the word out.

He felt her come closer, finally getting a look at Buffy, “Oh, God!” she sobbed. “No!” Spike moved to hug Dawn, touch her, but she moved away, closer to Buffy, “God, no!” Spike’s heart broke, listening to one Summers girl cry and another’s labored breathing and heart beat. He needed to hold her, comfort her, make it better. Have her make him better. He waited for any sign that Dawn wanted or needed his touch, but it didn’t come. She gathered her composure. “Who did this?” The sound of her voice so strong after being so week just a moment ago startled him.

“Cardboard’s bitch.” Spike spat out. He moved forward, laying his hands on her shoulders. “Going to find her, bit. I promise. She’ll pay.”

“Can’t,” she answered, “Travers got her chained up in the basement. Brought her in about an hour after you left. They had the mystics do a spell to find her, they had a feeling.”

“Yeah, bit. I bet they had a feeling.” Spike rested his head against hers. “Bit, she’s going to pay for what she’s done.”

“Is she dying?” Her voice was quiet once again, almost as if afraid to speak.

“Bit…” he didn’t want to admit it as if speaking it out loud, accepting it, would doom Buffy.

“She is, isn’t she?” Dawn’s tears renewed themselves. He pulled her into his embrace, Dawn facing away from Buffy, letting his shirt soak up her tears. “That can’t happen.” She sobbed, trying to regain composure. “She can’t, Spike. Don’t let it happen.”

“It’s the poison that bitch gave her.” Spike said, “Call Travers to get the name out of her. Then we’ll find a cure.”

“No,” Dawn pounded against his chest, fighting for her sister. “You can’t let that happen. Not after everything!”

“Dawn,” his voice implored her to calm down. “Buffy knows what’s going on around her, hears my voice, calms her. Talk to her. Look, she recognizes you, her head is tilting this way.” Spike felt his demon edge closer to the surface. The threat to his mate had almost broken him, but something could be done. His mate could be saved. Spike’s inner turmoil confused his senses; it would mean killing Buffy. Destroying what made Buffy so strong in the first place, made her care for friends, family, and innocents.

“Because this is the last time I’m going to talk to her?” She asked anger laced through her words.

“No, because she needs to be surrounded by love to bring her out of this. She needs you. I’ll go find Giles and tell him about the bitch chained up, right?”

“No,” She grabbed on to his upper arm when he started to move away. “Do it, Spike, save her!”

He was confused, looking at Dawn and then Buffy. Realization dawned on him and he shook his head, his demon agreed with Dawn, selfishly wanting to have is mate back with him. “Bit, she’ll be all right, doctors going to save her.” Buffy’s body decided to shake at that very moment, convulsing on the gurney. The straps on her arms and legs held fast, refusing to let her go.

“They can’t you know it, not in time at least. You can do it. She’ll be all right with you.” Dawn pleaded. “Come on, Spike. Save her.” Her pleads hit his ears, heart, soul, and demon. Everything in him wanted it. Everything in him needed her.

“Bit,” he knew he had tears running down his face again, “please don’t ask this of me.”

“Do it,” she held his closer to her, both hands on his coat. “I can’t lose her again.”

“Dawn…” Spike closed his eyes, blocking Dawn’s pleas out. He couldn’t, not to Buffy. Even the demon knew, he learned a long time ago, Buffy wouldn’t be the same. Inhaling, Spike reopened his eyes, “It doesn’t work that way bit, she won’t be the same. She’ll be different.”

“I don’t care, Spike. I can’t lose my sister.”

“Bit, it won’t be your sister coming back, it will be a demon with one thing on it’s mind, hunting and feeding. She won’t care about you.”

“What you mean is she won’t care about you, isn’t it?” Dawn pushed him away, “You don’t think she’ll love you, that’s the real reason, isn’t it Spike? You’d rather have her dead instead of saving her. Selfish demon.”

“Dawn,” Spike felt his body change, the demon taking over. “Bloody hell, shut up.”

“No!” She screamed. “You can’t shut me up. You don’t love her, do you? That’s why you won’t save her, because Xander was right this whole time, demons can’t love. You crave it, yet you can’t give it, not true love, anyway.”

“Shut the bloody fuck up!” Spike voice roared. “You don’t know what you are talking about. You’re upset.”

“You refuse to save her!” She countered.

“Turning her will not save her, Dawn. In fact, if I didn’t love her as much as I do, I would turn her. I would have done it all those years ago. Shagging in secret. I would have turned her, made her my Childe and taken her away from the lot of you. I could have controlled her, made her do things. I would have spent the next couple centuries shagging the buggering hell out of her, having her beside me, hunting, killing for me. You know nothing, Dawn; if you don’t think that I would want anything more than that, because I don’t. To have her, be in the dark with me, want me, need me.” Spike saw the fear in Dawn’s eyes, but he had to keep going, had to drive the point home. “Eternity. Do you know what that is, Dawn? I suppose the key inside knows about it, awakened with the thought of eternity. She doesn’t have eternity, Dawn. I know that, and I hate it. But exchanging her soul for a demon… just for eternity when it wouldn’t be my Buffy… it’s not worth it. I’d rather spend five minutes alone with my Buffy than an eternity with a demon inside her body. Bit, do you understand?”

“Willow could do a spell… like with Ang…”

Spike pointed a finger at her and growled, “So help me if you say like Angel,” he growled, unable to control himself any further. “Don’t. Just don’t.” He pushed her away, towards the door. “Find Giles, leave us alone.”

“You have to save her, Spike, please.” With one final shove, Dawn was back in the hallway; she watched Spike turn back towards Buffy, his right hand on his head, pulling at his hair. “Do it, Spike. Save her,” Dawn whispered and moved down the corridor.





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