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Author's Chapter Notes:
Congratulations to everyone who won at LLGA :) and thank you to the person who added me as their favorite author, I believe it was pixiecorn but if someone else was the latest...well then I'm sorry for getting things mixed up :) ...more at the end of the chapter
Chapter 33


”I’m listening,” Spike sat down in the chair next to Joyce’s hospital bed.

“I want…I know that Dawn and Buffy will have their own feelings on the matter, but I am after all their mother and…I chose you to make decisions in my place for a reason; I sincerely believe that you will do as I ask.”

“Of course,” he hoped that whatever she was going to ask him wouldn’t cause too much trouble between himself and Buffy.

“The doctors have explained to me, several times, te details of what they are going to have to do….or what they hope to do. The thing is, there is obviously the chance that it will be harder to remove than expected. Whatever they—if they ask you, I want you to tell them that getting the tumor out is the number one priority. No mater what.”

“I don’t know if I can—“

“You have to, Spike. Nothing good is going to come of having this tumor in my brain. If they don’t remove it….I will more than likely die if it remains….Whatever happens from the surgery, it can’t be worse than—Getting the tumor out, no matter the risk, is what needs to be done, William.”

Despite the garbled way she explained it, Spike understood what she meant If they didn’t get the tumor out then there would still be the pressure on her brain and if that didn’t kill her or something almost as horrible, the radiation would be the only option left and that had little to no chance of succeeding outside of the surgery.

Even if removing the tumor posted some sort of risk to Joyce, it would be worth it, in her view, if it meant they got it out.

“Alright, I’ll make sure that I…anything—okay.”

“Thank you, Spike.”




*(*(*()*)*)*




“Mr. Pratt, there has been a slight complication in the surgery and as Mrs. Summers proxy, it is left to you to decide our course of action. We can suggest what, medically, is best but ultimately it comes down to her wishes.”

The doctor went on to explain the risks of removing the tumor and the possible damage that could be done to Joyce’s brain and how that would affect her and what the other options for her were if Spike chose to have tem not do the surgery.

He’d listened very carefully, Spike had, and he knew that now was when the real test came—could he do as Joyce had asked even with all of those possible effects. He sighed as he thought it over for a moment. He knew what his decision was, even if he wasn’t sure he could voice it.

Running a shaky hand through his bleached hair, he looked down at the floor, gathering all of his strength and hoping to God that he was doing the right thing as eh looked up and answered the doctor.

“Do whatever you have to do to get the tumor out.” He stayed there for several more minutes, even after the doctor had left, just trying to get himself…settled enough to go back to Dawn and Buffy. His mind might have been reeling with all of the possible consequences of what he’d just done, but they most certainly didn’t need to know that.

Joyce had asked him to do this for her and he had, there was nothing to feel guilty about. Guilt, worry, fear, anxiety, who could really tell the difference? He sure as hell couldn’t right now.

But he’d done what he’d done and there was no going back now; now the important thing was to be there for Buffy and the Bit.



“Mrs. Summers is in recovery right now, she’s still waking up from the anesthesia—it may take a few hours for her to fully wake up. We were able to remove almost all of the tumor and things look good—of course we’ll have to wait and see, but that’s how it looks right now.”

They all three watched the doctor walk away, Spike glad that the doctor hadn’t brought up the earlier complication.

“So, that’s good right?” Dawn asked. “I mean, he said it went well and stuff, right?’

“Yes, honey, it’s god. Hey, how about we get you home for some rest until tomorrow then you can see Mom?”

“Can’t I see her today?”

Buffy saw that her sister wouldn’t be giving in anytime soon and truthfully, she didn’t have the energy for an argument; she’d suggested the trip home almost more for her own benefit than Dawn’s.

“Sure; we’ll just wait until the doctors say it’s alright.”

“Buffy, pet, you can—“ Spike started.

“No, I’m going to stay here with Dawn,” she interrupted, knowing what he was going to say. He gave her an unhappy look but didn’t say anymore.

“Right then, we’ll just go wait and you two can try to get some sleep,” he said pointedly.

“Thank you, Spike,” Buffy said.


*(*(*()*)*)*



“I can’t believe they’re letting you come home today!” It had been just five days—this morning the sixth—since Joyce’s surgery and the hospital was allowing her to go home. To Joyce it seemed like an eternity she’d been in the hospital while in fact it was less than two weeks.

“Dawn, try not to yell so much, Mom’s still tired and tired plus yelling equals bad.”

“Oh yeah…sorry,” she apologized meekly.

“Don’t worry honey, you’re excited, it makes sense. How did you girls get here?” It was only ten in the morning so Joyce was guessing Spike hadn’t brought them—she didn’t think he would expect her to walk home through the tunnels at the moment.

“Anya drove us. God, you’d think we were like four the way Spike won’t let us go anywhere by ourselves,” Dawn grumbled.

Joyce noticed how Buffy didn’t say anything, but also didn’t look nearly as annoyed as Dawn did.

“That’s good then; should we get going?” she was eager to get home; something about hospitals just got to her, no matter why she was there, how nice the doctors and nurses were, or how long the stay—she just didn’t like it.

They signed all of the proper papers, got the appointment time for Joyce’s first radiation therapy treatment, and wheeled Joyce downstairs to where Anya was waiting with Joyce’s car.

“I’m very pleased they are letting you come home. Spike has not been very happy with—“

“Yeah, isn’t it great?” Buffy interrupted, figuring—correctly—that Anya had been going to say something about Spike not liking how often she was out and about.

“Though he might have to find a new place to sleep, Buffy; now that your mother will be home and all.”

“Oh, was he sleeping in my room?”

Buffy could have killed Anya at that moment—was actually thinking of several possibilities.

“No, he’s been sleeping in Buffy’s room. They’re not having sex, don’t worry, but mothers generally don’t like that sort of thing.”

“I figured William would be looking after you; he has been very concernted.”

“Yeah, concerned,” Buffy rolled her eyes, “That’s one way to put it.” She was still putting up a great amount of protest in public—hey, she was working on it—but she really didn’t think she’d still be able to stand (literally) if it hadn’t been for all the care Spike had given her. He truly had been her saving grace.

“He would be a wonderful boyfriend,” Anya remarked casually. “Xander never would have taken care of me like Spike is taking care of you; he is a very considerate man.”

“Yes, he is,” Buffy’s mother agreed. “And I have no problem with wherever he is staying; nothing has to change just because I am coming home.”

“Is this the ‘Get Buffy to Date Spike Club’?” Buffy asked them, looking at all three females skeptically.

“Well you really should,” Dawn agreed.

“Yeah, okay, can we maybe not plan out my lo—dating life here? We should probably get going or the hospital’ll come up with a reason to keep one of us here; they’re evil like that.”

They carefully got Joyce into the car, Buffy and Dawn making a bigger fuss over the action than Joyce thought necessary, before Anya drove the four of them to the Summers’ residence.



“Oh it feels good to be home,” Joyce sighed as soon as she walked in her front door. In less than a few weeks she’d really developed an urge to return home. As soon as possible. Hospitals seemed to have a way of reminding you that you were sick that got you a little depressed, or at least they did her.

“And it feels good to have you home,” Buffy echoed and hugged her mother lightly.

“Now where is Spike? I need to thank him for looking after my girls for me.”

“I bet if you ask it loud enough—and say that I’m going to go look, that he’ll be here in five seconds because God forbid Buffy do anything,” Buffy grumbled as she started to walk up the stairs.

“Actually it was more like three,” Dawn corrected as Spike came strolling quickly in from the kitchen.

“Told you,” Buffy muttered.

“Why don’t we all go sit in the living room?” Spike suggested. “Unless anyone,” Buffy rolled her eyes at him but he just went on, “needs to go rest for a little while.”

“Are you okay for it, Mom?” Buffy asked.

“Sure, sweetheart. It’ll be nice to find out what all has happened since I’ve gone into the hospital, it sure seems like you all have had some eventful lives.”

Buffy sat in the middle of the sofa, Dawn next to her and she and Anya in chairs while Spike sat on the other side of Buffy. Joyce noticed that after fifteen or so minutes of Dawn and Anya telling everyone what had happened in the hospital waiting room when Joyce had first gone into the hospital, Buffy moved subtly to rest against Spike’s side. Joyce wondered how long it was going to take for her daughter to admit to the feelings that she was sure everyone else already knew were there.

By the end of their two-hour chat, Joyce was entirely caught up: highly disappointed in—if not slightly angry with—Rupert, Xander, and Willow, surprised by Anya, proud of her daughters and Spike; and Buffy’s head was on Spike’s shoulder, his arm lightly around her waist. All very interesting.


TBC….




more author's note...I'm writing some fics for the 'Art Before Fic' Challenge at Spuffy_Haven (on Livejournal)...once I decide just how much I want to break my 'finish writing fics before posting them' rule, I'll start posting here as well.......And no I have no idea if that had a point other than to let those of you who see the fics on LJ know when they'll be here





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