A/N: This chapter will be the one to deal mostly with Spike's first half of recovery. I hope everyone likes it. I'm trying to really push and finish this one before I pick back up with PD and my new one. Reviews are great, thanks to all who have been doing so.
Sometimes I'm thinkin'
I'm too high to fall.
Sometimes I'm thinkin'
I'm Too high to fall.
Other times I'm thinkin' I'm
So low I don't know
If I can come up at all.
-Bob Dylan, "Black Crow Blues"
Spike stared longingly at his last dose of methadone.
This was it. After today, he'd be facing withdrawals for the third time in his life. Both times before he'd given up after a week. The first time he'd gotten back on smack, the second he'd managed to make a marginally better choice and turn to methadone.
Now he was laying everything on the line and attempting to do the thing he'd never been able to before.
"Buffy?"
She turned when she heard his voice and saw him standing in the doorway of her bedroom. "Come on in."
He smiled slightly and sat in her desk chair. "We should talk about some things."
She nodded and sat back against the wall. "Yeah, I guess we should."
He rubbed his scarred eyebrow and finally managed to look up at her. "This won't be easy luv, it won't even be marginally difficult. This is gonna be the hardest bloody thing I've ever done, and you're gonna have to watch." He sighed and continued.
"I tried a while ago. Just Xand knew. He let me stay at his house, Dru and I had fought.. we hurt each other that time.. and I figured it wasn't bloody worth it anymore."
"What happened?"
Spike took a deep breath and looked away. "I beat the living shit out of him because he wouldn't let me go, and when he was passed out, bleeding on the fucking floor, I went out and nearly bloody overdosed.
"Can you see now why I don't want you to stay?"
He finally looked up and she could see the unshed tears in his eyes.
"Spike-"
"I can't hurt you Buffy, I'd never forgive myself."
She moved off of the bed and he stood to meet her. They held each other, rocking slowly in the middle of the room.
"You won't, Spike, I trust you."
He bent his head until his face was buried in her hair. "It won't be me.. not the real me anyway. When I need it, I'll do anything to get it."
"Shh, we'll get through it. I've talked to Fred, she's given me a lot of advice and some things to read. I know what's coming. I won't lie and say I'm not scared, but I'm not walking away."
Spike didn't respond, but held her tighter, and she knew she'd gotten to him. They stood silently for a moment before Spike pulled back, kissed her cheek softly, whispered a thank you, and walked out.
He'd told Buffy before that his father had been unable to watch him suffer and had practically dragged him into the clinic that had pumped him full of drugs until he stopped hallucinating. He was amazed that Buffy had taken everything the way she had, though he shouldn't have been.
She never ceased to amaze him, part of the reason he loved her.
He looked down and sighed. This was it. Last time, and it felt good in a way. Once he made it through, he would have a huge weight off of his shoulders. And he would be able to finally be the man Buffy deserved.
They hadn't said it in so many words, but once he was free, he and Buffy may be able to start over, without any of the issues plaguing their relationship before.
He felt Buffy's presence behind him and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Thanks, luv."
She touched his shoulder and set down a glass of water for him. Spike reached back and squeezed her hand before committing himself to the beginning of the end.
***
It wasn't absolutely terrible at first. Buffy made sure to keep Spike well stocked with cigarettes, as that was one thing he was unwilling to give up, and Buffy didn't blame him. They kept him sane when he was starting to really get jumpy.
It started with little things. Spike was easily irritated and often agitated if he couldn't get something done as quickly or easily as he used to. At night, she heard him sometimes, moaning in pain, crying in frustration. His body loudly protested the lack of opiates, it didn't know how to produce pleasure on it's own.
If he kept moving during the day, he was ok for most of it. They jogged, they hiked, they shopped, they played soccer. Well, she tried to learn and he tried to teach her. His teaching only lasted a few days however, she could see that the more easily frustrated he became, the more dangerous testing his limits became.
The first few days he was still doing alright, but now, four days into it, there were times when he could barely move. They stopped going out as much, and he rarely came out of his room. He tried to write, but things weren't coming as quickly, and his body wouldn't allow for him to sit at his desk for long periods of time. His hands cramped, and his head ached, and finally Buffy asked him to stop it all together until he could concentrate.
That was the first time she wondered if maybe she'd gotten in over her head.
"What the hell do you care?"
"Spike, stop, you don't even-"
"Shut-up, get out and leave me the fuck alone!"
"Spike-"
He stood and was in front of her, his hands gripping her shoulders a tad too tightly. "I told you, Buffy, to get out, and leave. me. the fuck. alone!" He yelled the last part and pushed her out of his doorway, slamming the door in her face.
She leaned against the wall behind her, panting slightly. This was over something stupid, something so inconsequential that she didn't even want to know what he would do when it really came down to it. She pulled herself away from his door and sat in the kitchen, staring at nothing.
It was day five, and Spike didn't come down for coffee. She waited downstairs for him, wondering if maybe he was just having a hard time getting up. When he still hadn't come down and hour and a half after his usual time she made the decision to see what was keeping him.
She heard him before she got all the way up the stairs. He leaned over the toilet in the bathroom they shared, clad only in his jeans, his body shuddering between each heave. It wasn't the first time he'd thrown up, in fact it wasn't really unusual for him to start the morning that way, but he'd never looked so pale.
"Spike?"
He looked over for a second, his eyes had dark circles around them and she could tell he was absolutely miserable.
"Oh God, honey, let me get you something." He turned back to the toilet and continued dry heaving while she rummaged through the medicine cabinet for the pills she'd bought to help with his nausea. She finally found some and filled a glass with water for him.
"Spike, do you think you can swallow these down?"
He pushed himself and nodded weakly. She helped him swallow the pills and drink down as much of the water as he could. She grabbed a wet washcloth and wiped his face. His whole body was covered in a cold sweat and she thought it best to get him back into bed.
He didn't resist when she pulled him up and helped him back into bed. He didn't move to take his jeans off, but she knew he would be uncomfortable, so she tugged them down and tucked him in, kissing his forehead lightly.
"Get some rest."
He reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Buffy, please..."
She moved back next to him and looked down. "What do you need?"
He swallowed and his shivering increased. "Stay.. stay with me, please."
Buffy didn't know what to do. She wasn't sure if staying with him would do more harm in the long run than good, but looking down at him, seeing the obvious pain he was in, she couldn't deny him. They weren't having sex, she didn't think he'd even be capable of it in this state, and he might not even remember that she was ever there.
She'd just stay until he fell asleep.
She climbed into bed next to him and allowed him to wrap his shaking arms around her and pull her close. He was so cold, it made her even more worried for him. She wrapped the blankets tightly around him and pulled his arms closer.
***
Buffy didn't remember falling asleep. She knew she hadn't intended to, but here she was, slowly waking up in Spike's bed, with his arms still wrapped tightly around her, and wet, sloppy kisses being placed on the back of her neck.
Wait a minute.
Spike pressed his body closer to hers and she could feel his erection pressed up against her. His body was even more shaky than it had been when she fell asleep.
She tried to pull away from him but he held her tighter.
"Spike, what are you doing?"
"Waking you up, pet. I'm ready to go."
He pressed himself closer to her and moaned in her ear, before kissing her again. "Got too many clothes on, baby, why'd you wear clothes to bed, y'never wear clothes..."
She noticed now that his speech was slurred and now she was getting worried. "Spike.. what are you talking about. We should get you something to eat, does your stomach feel better?"
"Stomach, baby what are you talking about. Turn 'round and kiss me. I am hungry, but not for food."
He turned her in his arms and when she looked into his eyes she realized he wasn't even in the same room as her. "Spike, stop, you're not thinking clearly." She tried to push him away and he pulled her tighter.
"We playin' this way then? Just gets me harder when you do it like this." He rolled himself on top of her and grabbed her wrists, quicker than she would have thought possible. He kissed her hard and didn't seem to notice that she didn't respond.
"Spike! Get off of me!" Buffy managed to get one of her hands free but he wasn't put off at all by her struggles.
"I'll get off alright, c'mon Dru, you're usually biting by now," he chuckled and buried his face in her neck.
The sound of Drusilla's name enraged her more than his attempt at getting into her pants. She was not about to be caught up in one of his queen of the damned's sex games. With a burst of strength, fueled mostly by the hurt she felt, she managed to push Spike off of her and onto the floor. The fall seemed to knock some sense back into him.
He looked up at her and she felt nearly hopeless since the whole thing started. He was so confused and ashamed and in pain. He didn't know what he was doing, but seeing in person some of what he had experienced with Dru, some of what they'd done to each other, it shook her.
She scrambled out of his bed and ran into her room where she tried unsuccessfully to calm down.
***
Spike couldn't remember feeling such widespread pain since he stopped buying from Angel. Every part of him hurt, and after what had happened that morning, he wasn't sure whether the emotional or the physical pain would kill him first.
He'd been dreaming about Dru, about sometime in the past. He'd been on an incredible high, so had she, and right in this very house he'd basically raped her, the only thing that made it less despicable was the fact that for a while, it was the only way she'd get off.
And now he'd nearly hurt Buffy. Already he'd let what was happening to him get in the way of his vow to never hurt her.
He lay in bed trying to think of a way to make up for it but the worse the pain got, the less clearly he was thinking. He could feel his mind flitting in and out of delusions. Sometimes he thought he saw Buffy, sometimes Tara, Xander, and his father, but none of those were real. Buffy was in the house, but chances were, after the events that morning, he probably wouldn't be seeing her for a while.
Finally he surrendered to what felt like sleep, but was more a waking nightmare. Part of him knew where he was, but the rest of him was off somewhere deeply unpleasant. And the aches were relentless.
All he wanted was the oblivion of sleep, but he figured if this was payment for what he'd done to Buffy, he was getting off easy.
***
Buffy managed to work through her thoughts about the morning. She realized now that it was a test of sorts. He'd warned her and she hadn't really understood how bad it was going to get. Now she knew, she knew about his past, she knew about his present, and she was ready to face them, however terrible they were.
She made some soup and grabbed some crackers and brought them to his room, along with a cold washcloth and some more pills for the nausea.
She could hear his moans before she reached his room and her heart went out to him. When she saw him she almost turned around again. She couldn't bear to see him like that. Writhing and moaning, and not in the fun way. He looked like hell, alternately curling into a ball and then stretching out like he was trying to push the ache out of him.
She put the tray on the bedside table and grabbed the washcloth. He stilled when she touched his forehead and his moans were reduced to more pitiful whimpers.
"I didn't.. mean it.." His voice was rough and broken and she could tell it must have been painful to speak.
"Shh, I know, it's ok, I know." She propped his head up so that he could drink some water.
When he spoke again, his voice sounded better. "So sorry, Buffy.. 'm so fucking sorry."
"Spike, I know, don't worry. Just get better. It'll be ok."
"Hurts, Buffy."
She closed her eyes and stroked his head, brushing his hair back from his face. "I know, just hold on. It'll get better."
"Give me a little bit... just a tiny, tiny bit. I'll stop then, I swear to God, Buffy, give me just a little and I'll stop."
"Spike, you know I can't."
"You can, just go down to the clinic, they won't ask any questions. Just a little for the pain, fucking hell, you don't know what it's like!"
"Spike, just rest, I'll get something to help you sleep, you're not doing that enough."
"I don't want to fucking sleep, I want some fucking H!"
"Spike, stop-"
"I don't give a shit what you give me, just stop it hurting. You love me, if you do you'll stop this."
"Spike, I'm not listening to this, I'm getting the stuff to help you sleep, just wait a minute."
He grabbed her wrist and yanked her closer to him. "You stupid bitch, I'll kill you when I get the fucking chance!"
She yanked herself away from him and stood up, nearly tripping over the chair she was sitting on. She'd never seen that look in his eyes before, it was like he wasn't even there anymore. He shook his head and looked back up at her and she could find him again, but she wasn't about to get close.
"Buffy... luv, I-"
"Don't.. just, I'll be right back."
She got some sleeping pills Fred had prescribed and took a deep breath before going back in his room. He swallowed them down and avoided her eyes. She was thankful when he didn't say anything to her.
She watched as his eyes drifted closed and then left his room, locking the door behind her. She knew there was no room for mistakes her, and she couldn't afford to take a chance on his mental state while she slept.