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Chapter 18

The nurses stopped once they’d reached the appropriate door and it was then up to Buffy when she went in. They had assured her that all of the windows’ blinds and curtains were tightly shut so that when the sun came up in a little over an hour—due to Spike’s ‘condition’ they had allowed them extra early visiting hours after approving it with Joyce who, oddly, had been already awake—the room would remain sunlight free.

Not letting go of Spike’s hand and not thinking about why it felt so reassuring, Buffy took several deep breaths before starting to go into the room—and stopping.

“What if I can’t do it?” she whispered to Spike after she’d pulled him several feet down the hall, away from her mother’s door.

“Do what, pet?”

“I’m supposed to help her decide on how to treat this and I…she’s my mom Spike; I don’t know if I can do this,” Buffy looked younger then than she had even that first time he’d seen her.

“Don’t worry, alright? You’re a lot smarter than you think and you can handle a hell of a lot more than you give yourself credit for; and I’m going to be in there helping and your mum’s going to know this is hard for you. She’s not going to be expecting some magic answer from you Buffy. She just wants to include you in this.”

“Yeah…yeah, that makes sense.” Buffy took another deep breath before she started walking back towards her mother’s room, this time making it inside.

“Hi sweetie, hello Spike,” her mother said as soon as they entered and Buffy was afraid, due to her mother’s lack of surprise at seeing Spike, that she had overheard their conversation. “I didn’t expect you to be here quite so soon,” she admitted as she looked at Spike, then slowly at Buffy who immediately dropped Spike’s hand.

“Mom, I—“

“Buffy?” her mother said lightly.

“Yes?”

“Why do you think that with me of all people you need to act like you can’t stand William?”

”It’s not that I,” Buffy was stunned for a moment, unsure what to say. “Because I don’t know what I’m doing right now so I’m doing what I think everyone expects me to do,” she admitted quietly, tears forming in her eyes.

“Buffy? Do you remember me inviting William to dinner? Remember how I told you how thoughtful the present was?” Spike looked embarrassed at that and it didn’t go unnoticed by Joyce. “No why would you think that I would find anything wrong with…with whatever it is you have him here as?”

“Because I just got yelled at by Willow and Giles and Xander and…I don’t know.”

“Rupert did—Oh he had better not come see me any time soon!”

“Don’t worry Joyce, I think he was just looking out for—“

“No,” Buffy interrupted him, “he was being an ass.”

Both Spike and her mother smiled at that before her mother gave the necessary rebuke of, “Language, Buffy.” But then she added, “Even if it is true,” and it took the seriousness out of her statement and lightened the mood of the entire room.

“So, are we here to talk about all that medical mumbo jumbo or is this just a for fun visit?” Given that it was only five thirty in the morning Buffy figured her mother knew the answer to that, but she answered anyway.

“Well I do want to know how you’re doing. But also about all that medical mumbo jumbo,” she copied her mother.

“And I assume the same goes for you?” she asked Spike.

“Yeah…and I’m sorry I wasn’t there before to help with—“

“Nonsense,” Joyce interrupted, “none of us knew there was anything to help.”

“Still should have been there,” Buffy swore she heard Spike muttering.

“She didn’t get too hurt did she?” Both Spike and Buffy looked at her in confusion when Joyce asked the question. “Oh, you may not know it but I know my daughter and with everything that happened yesterday and everything that doctor surely laid on you, I know that—sick or not—you went out to beat something up.”

“She just came and yelled at me a bit,” Spike replied, again faster than Buffy. “Might've hit me a time or two, but nothing bad. Kept her all safe anyway.”

“Alright so she did that….and then what? Buffy I know you think I’m your mother so I can’t be as smart as I seem to be, but…Just tell me already; I know either Spike should have some more bruises—even with as sick as you’ve been—or you’re not telling me the truth. And the fact that you’ve changed clothes makes me think you didn’t want me to see the dirt on what you were wearing yesterday. And your hair’s more brushed than it’s been in weeks so obviously Spike wasn’t too injured to help you with your hair.”

“What is it with you and the freakish observation? Are you sure you’re my mother? Because she spent a couple of years not knowing I was the Slayer…”

“Not admitting to knowing,” she amended. “Now I’ve embraced it so I’ve developed very keen observation skills. That and your hair really is more brushed than it’s been in a long while so I know someone helped you and…” she looked at Spike in a way that meant she knew what she was talking about.

“Fine, so I yelled at Spike—“

“For?” her mother asked.

“Do I ever really have a reason?”

“To you? Yes.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just imply what you did because you’re in the hospital and everything,” Buffy lightly glared at her mother, still standing next to Spike between the bed and the door. “I yelled at him for not having a phone so I could tell him when…and for not having figured out what was wrong with you.”

“Buffy, vampires aren’t like bomb sniffing dogs, there’s no way he could have known I had a brain tumor.”

“I should have known though,” Spike said. “Should have seen it somehow.”

“Buffy please tell me that you don’t both think that.”

“Yeah, we sort of switched views on that one. I get how I was being stupid now and….well Spike hasn’t caught on just yet.”

“We’ll worry about that later; just tell me what happened next so I can stop worrying about you and we can have this stupid talk already.”

“Then I left his crypt and ran into a vampire attacking an old lady. I decided that I was the Slayer so it didn’t matter if I could fight him or not, I had to try. Basically he almost killed me, was going to—but Spike killed him.”

“Thank you,” Joyce thanked him before Buffy could continue.

“Shouldn’t have let her leave like that in the first place.”

“You two are a perfect match—always blaming yourselves for far more than you should. But continue on,” she urged Buffy.

“So I was going to pass out because well I was here all night, walked to the cemetery, yelled at Spike, tried to beat him up, then fought that vampire…so Spike got me back to his crypt and made me drink some Gatorade—which I still don’t know why you had that,” she looked at him briefly. “Then he walked me home.”

“It’s like pulling teeth,” Joyce bemoaned.

“We talked about some personal stuff for a bit,” Spike explained. “Then I got her to explain to me what had happened last night and what the doctor told her.”

Joyce didn’t question what personal things they had talked about, figuring Buffy had done barely any of that lately and talking about personal things of any kind could only be good. It was Spike, too, so she guessed he wouldn’t have had a discussion with Buffy if it was going to be in any way detrimental t her—not now.

“And he knows all this other stuff,” Buffy explained. “Stuff I’d never have thought of and…it’s kind of hard for me to always take in everything they’re saying so…I asked him to come. If that’s not okay with you—“

“It’s perfectly fine, Buffy. I think it’s a good idea.”

“Right then,” Spike wasn’t used to this much acceptance, “let’s get down to business then.”




TBC........





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