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Chapter 18
The door was shut tight, the lock firmly in place, leaving the room private. Spike slowly circled the room, looking for something to block the tiny window in the door. He didn’t want anyone interrupting him. Not now, not when he’d made his decision.

Coward

He growled at himself, the demon snapping at his soul to be quiet.

She trusted you

Spike inhaled the stiff air of the clinic. This wasn’t what he wanted, what he envisioned. Nothing was like what he envisioned. Nothing. Ever. Was. He felt the air pick up in the room, and he shivered. He grabbed another cover from the cabinet. He neared Buffy, smoothing the blanket over her legs and then her torso. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Inhaling, Spike blinked his amber eyes once, twice. It would be all right. He would fix her; make her better. He bent down, inhaling her human scent one last time. No more sweat, no more blood pumping through her arties and veins. Just her. Her natural essence, the animalistic scent that made her, the atoms and molecules. Artificial scents, now. Shampoo, perfume, lotions. She would be covered with those. Would her body betray her and still smell like the sweet nectar of a Slayer? Would they spend as much time running from demons as killing them?

He felt her pulse increase with his proximity, “Slayer,” he whispered reverently. Spike moved her hair away from her face, pushing and petting it behind her head. Her hair felt grimy, days of being held prisoner, being abused would do that. “We’ll get your hair washed and pampered. Maybe one of those hot oil treatments you told me about.” His fingers ghosted around her neck, smoothing her skin out. “And, I’ll find us one of those hotels with a Jacuzzi. Cover you in rose scented bubbles. Doesn’t that sound grand?” He felt the tears hedge their way to the surface. “Bloody take care of you, love.” His voice cracked. This was the only way to save her, to keep her. Spike exhaled, it was now or never. He moved her head away from him so he could latch on once more. “Baby, we’ll do it right, next time, yeah?”

His face came forward, licking her neck clean. He felt her breath hitch. Her body was no longer stable; he knew it was almost too late. He closed his eyes, not wanting to watch her fight the bite. He licked her neck once more before his fangs pierced her healed skin. Her body jumped, a reflex. He grabbed her shoulder, holding her upper body down and sipped deep. He tasted the sour poison in her sweet blood and cringed. This was what was killing her. Her arms jerked, attached to the straps on the bed. Her body tried to move, slither its way away, but Spike kept his mouth attached to her body, drinking her. “Spike.” He swore he heard her moan his name, pleasure rippled through him. The aphrodisiac properties were still present in her blood. “Spike.” It was there again, the love in her voice. He took another deep drink from her neck, trying to commit everything to memory. “Spike,” he knew he heard it in his ear now. A bit weak, but he heard it, heard her say it. Breaking away, he turned his head to look at her face. His nose to her cheek, he didn’t see any movement. Her eyes were closed, mouth slightly open. It must be the Powers-that-be messing with him when not only did he hear it, but he saw it, too, “Spike,” her weak voice moaned again.

“Buffy?” He felt like he was choking on her blood, like bile would rise from the depths of his bowels. Her eyelashes fluttered on her bluish-purple cheeks. Her green eyes adjusted to the sharp light of the room. She blinked, closing her eyes, “Hold on, love.” Spike stumbled away, almost as if in a dream. He hit the light switch, dimming the room when the florescent lights pittered off. He came back, staring at her once more. She inhaled deeply, wincing when her lungs were restricted with bandages, “Got some ribs broken,” she smiled slightly despite her pained look. “Oh, baby,” he grabbed some gauze, noticing her neck was bleeding out. “Baby, I’m so sorry,” he broke down, his tears hitting her face and chest as he held down the gauze on her neck. “So sorry.” Spike’s soul screamed in pain. He almost killed her.

Despite his tears, Spike saw her smile. He felt the warmth in her heart directed at him, “Shh, Spike,” her voice cracked from misuse, “I know.” Her hand moved, wanting to touch him, comfort him, but it was still in the restraints. His hands fumbled with the buckles, his voice whispering apologetic words. Her muscles stretched themselves when free, reaching for him.

“Buffy,” his voice rose with emotion, as he grasped tightly onto her. Her arms found themselves around him, holding him tighter to her broken body, uncaring of her own wounds. His nose buried itself deep within her dirty, stringy hair. “Love,” he felt her hot tears run down with his cool ones, intermingling together, flowing as one.

“Spike,” her voice was gaining strength, she held on tight, enjoying the comforting embrace. “What happened?”

Spike loosened his hold, but not letting go, so he could look into her eyes. Dark green, almost brown from this angle, surrounded by her blue tinged skin. “So much,” his voice broken, tears running down his cheeks quickly. “Bitch of Finn’s got you, baby, I’m so sorry. Wasn’t there.” He buried his head into her neck, shaking with emotions.

“Spike,” Buffy moved her head to look around the room. She felt so disoriented and lethargic. “Where are we?”

His head popped up, realizing that her fever had subsided; the warmth of her skin returning to normal, and her voice was stronger. “Council’s clinic,” he looked at her, his face changing back to human. He didn’t understand this miracle, her being alive, awake, and still loving him, but he wasn’t going to question it. “They said you wouldn’t make it…” his emotions bubbled to the surface again, “I’m such a bleeding ponce, love.”

“Shh,” her green eyes flashed with love. “Baby, I’m all right. I’m okay.” She held him close, feeling her bones heal. “Huh, I can move again.” She let go of Spike to stretch her torso up and rotate it. Spike smiled, happy that she seemed to be all right. She grabbed Spike, pulling him impossibly close. She smiled, feeling their bond strengthening. “Why so weak?” She mumbled in his chest.

“Been unconscious, love.” He whispered, holding her head still, inhaling her scent, and relishing the sound of her blood pumping through her veins.

“I feel like I’ve been underwater, like I was drowning.”

Tears prickled behind Spike’s eyelids once again, but he shook them off quickly, “You were, baby. But you’re safe now.”

She smiled, feeling more like herself and looked around, “Why’s the door barricaded, Spike?”

He pouted, how could he tell her, admit that he was a selfish monster ready to turn her, just to keep her with him, “See… there is a good explanation for that,” he avoided eye contact with her, scratching the back of his head with his hand, “Love, the Bit…”

“Shh,” her fingers ghosted over his lips, “I know, Spike. She asked you to save me, to turn me.” His eyes were wide with shock. “Its okay, Spike. I felt it, like I was here, but I wasn’t, you know? Way wiggy.” She shivered unconsciously and looked at him, grabbing his head so he would face her, “Hey there, look at me,” her eyes met his, despair hidden deep in his blue, “No! Don’t go there, Spike. There is nothing to feel guilty about.” He tried to tear his gaze away, but she held him steady, “No, Spike. I feel it in here,” She patted her heart. “The love, your devotion, the fear. I feel it. I’m not leaving you. You were doing what you thought you had too. Spike, please baby, look at me,” hot tears ran down her cheeks, “I’m not saying you have an invitation to turn me, but honey, I understand. I love you.”

“No,” he backed away from her, “Monster,” he spat, “How can you love a monster?” His words failed him, the bloody awful poet sulking in a corner, disgusted with himself. “Shouldn’t,” he backed away from her, tripping over the equipment hooked up to her, measuring her vitals. He watched in horror as the IV needle pulled out of her skin, ripping along the way. Her hand recoiled as soon as the needle emerged, holding it to her body, she didn’t notice the electrodes popping off of her chest. “No!” He reached out to her, fear in his eyes. She looked up at him, tears running down her face, “Please,” he begged her, no apparent reason behind his words.

Buffy shook her head clear, for a moment, her eyesight clouded over. “Spike, I…” she felt her eyes close, body suddenly very heavy, she inhaled, feeling like she couldn’t breath. “Help me,” she whispered before being overtaken by the dark once again.





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