Chapter 41
Spike really was about ready to kill the bloody doctors already. They’d checked Buffy in over two hours ago and—after a rather loud ‘conversation’ on how if they knew what was wrong with Buffy then they wouldn’t very well be bringing her to the hospital, now would they?—Buffy was just now getting checked over by a nurse. But what had him so rip roaring mad and ready to say fuck the chip and snap someone’s neck was the way they all acted like this was somehow his or Buffy—or both’s—fault.
They had deduced that, wonder of all wonders, Buffy was undernourished so they’d given her several IVs—one to give her an IV of sodium chloride to help replenish her electrolytes and hopefully increase her declining blood pressure—and thus increase her energy—by increasing her blood volume.
Once the nurse had checked all of her vital signs and recorded them they were going to take her to radiology to get some sort of, he assumed, special feeding tube that was somehow guided by x-ray. He didn’t completely understand it, but he was going to be with her when they did it so he knew nothing would happen to her; he simply wouldn’t allow it.
Spike had gotten the assumption from both the doctors and the nurses—in the way that they looked at Buffy, the disdainful looks they gave him, and their falsely optimistic tones, the one he recognized as how people said things when they didn’t believe what they were saying but felt they had to say it, that they all figured Buffy to be dying. He wanted to shout at them that if they had all decided that already then how in the bleedin’ hell did they expect to get her well?
He knew a lot about death—killing people for one hundred and twenty years would do that for you—and he knew that as soon as you gave into it you were as good as dead. Sure you could still die even if you fought it until the bitter end, but if you did fight…well at least then you had a chance. When you just gave in you gave up all of your chances. It was true for the person in danger of dying and, at least to him, it was the same for the people in charge of making sure someone didn’t die—namely the hospital’s doctors and nurses; Buffy’s doctors and nurses.
If he’d thought there was anywhere better to take her, anywhere where she would have been under better care, they would already be out of there. But as much as he wished it, he couldn’t think of anywhere.
Apparently they were stuck with the place.
They’d been able to get Dawn to stay in the room while Buffy—along with Spike—was taken down to radiology and, not entirely surprisingly, she was sound asleep when they returned to the room. Spike knew she had to be utterly exhausted after the goings on of the past few weeks and now that Buffy was in the hospital—‘safe’ in Dawn’s mind—she could finally relax some. He could only hope—God how he wished there were something more he could do but sadly hope was all he had—that this was going to be enough; that it was going to keep her safe. And alive.
Buffy’s throat was numb still from where they had numbed both her throat and nose for inserting the tube but she’d thought before the procedure to ask for something and the nurse was off getting it now.
“Are you sure?” Spike asked for what had to be the twentieth time in the last five minutes.
Buffy could only nod and glare at him—angry that she couldn’t even nod emphatically. She couldn’t even fucking nod emphatically for God’s sake and he was still asking her if she was sure.
“Alright, alright,” he held his hands up in surrender, “I believe you—and I’ll shut up about it now.” Spike quietly went to go check on Dawn, making sure she looked at least somewhat comfortable in the chair and wasn’t going to fall out of it or somehow hurt herself.
Buffy wondered when it was that she’d come to understand Spike and his actions so well; she knew he was walking over Dawn—across the room from her—to give himself some time to make sure he was calm.
Then she wondered if she’d really understood him and his actions all along. It wasn’t exactly like he was ever all that cryptic anyway; either he was evil and out to kill you and you knew it or—for various reasons—he needed help or was willing to help and you knew that as well. And when he was doing one he was most certainly not doing the other—oddly enough, Spike had always been easy for her to read. Interesting.
“Here you are Ms. Summers,” the nurse returned to the room, a piece of paper in her hand. “Shall I go get someone else or is your sister going to be witness?”
“I think we should get someone else—Dawn’s not even legal anyway and that might bring up problems later. It’s not too much trouble is it?” It still felt funny to Buffy to be talking with the tube going down her throat, but she figured she’d have to do it sometime.
“Not at all; Rose is just next door, I’ll go get her.”
“You’re sure you’re—“
“Spike, I’m sure,” Buffy assured him—again.
“Fine, fine. Should I take kid sis over there home after?”
“Either way is fine with me—I’m thinking she should just stay home tomorrow and rest; she’s been through a hell of a lot today.”
‘Yeah,’ Spike thought, ‘we’ve all been through a bloody hell of a lot today.’
“I’ll take her back once she wakes up or once it gets dark—going to come back though, you know,” he pointed out.
“Spike,” Buffy tried, “you have to get some sleep, too.”
“That isn’t going to happen with me at home and you here—and what’s so bloody funny?” he wondered suddenly after seeing her smile.
“Who said anything was funny?” she evaded his question.
“Got a mighty big grin on your face there for nothing to be funny.”
“I promise, nothing is funny at all. You do know, though,” she said trying to change the subject, “that they have ‘visiting hours’ and all—they might not let you back.”
“I flash a little fang and they will,” he said stubbornly.
“Maybe,” she replied slowly, “but you are not going to do that; figure it out or don’t but no vampy face-ness.”
“Can’t tell me what to do,” Spike muttered.
“No,” Buffy agreed, “I really can’t. I’m just asking you to please not do it—it’s going to be kind of hard if you’re banned from the hospital. Or staked.”
“Go and bring logic into it why don’t you,” he grumbled, but tried to straighten up and look serious when the two nurses came into the room.
“Everything alright?” the one he assumed was Rose asked.
Spike had to literally bite his tongue from not so nicely pointing out that if everything were alright, Buffy wouldn’t be in the hospital hooked up to IVs and with a feeding tube down her throat.
“Perfect,” he finally answered when Buffy started to look at him strangely.
“Great. Now, I’ve been told that this was done for your mother just recently so I’m sure you understand what you’re doing but,” the woman stopped suddenly.
“Yes?” Buffy prompted.
”I feel I should warn you against having the same person act as both your mother’s medical proxy and yours.”
“Well your warning is noted, but I’m not going to choose anyone else; it’s going to be Sp—William.”
“Very well, if you’re sure.”
“Positive.” Buffy took the piece of the paper from the nurse, read over it just to make sure it was the right thing and she knew all of what she was agreeing to and signed it before handing it to Spike to do the same. Once the two nurses had signed that they had in fact witnessed the signing, it was taken to be copied—so that Buffy could keep a copy—and filed.
“Thank you, Spike,” Buffy said once the two nurses had left.
“Thank you, luv. Hey,” he had noticed how tired she seemed to be getting and how her voice had grown softer the longer she talked, “I think I’ll take the Bit home now; get her off to bed and all that rot.”
“Guess it’s later than I thought, huh?” Buffy had just noticed that the sun was already setting.
“Guess so; you could probably do with some rest too. Been a busy day and all.”
“Yeah…who would have thought just getting into the hospital would be so tiring,” she tried to joke but her tiredness came through—strongly.
“You get some sleep and I’ll try to be back later, yeah?”
“Okay. Let Dawn know I said good night?”
“Of course.” Without giving it a single thought, Spike leaned down to kiss Buffy on the forehead before walking across the room t carefully pick up Dawn, carrying her as gently as possible out of the room after giving Buffy one last smile as a goodbye.
Buffy watched the doorway for several moments, marveling over how…essential Spike was to her life right now; and how quickly that had become so true. She hoped it didn’t change when her health changed for the better. She’d miss him, she realized.
The nurse’s reemergence into the room startled Buffy and the woman apologized before handing her the copy of the proxy form. “I was going to give it to Mr. Pratt but I saw him leave before I got a chance to stop him. He will be back later won’t he?”
If Buffy didn’t know any better she’d swear the nurse had a crush on Spike. Well, as long as she didn’t do anything about it…
“Yes, I’m sure he will be,” Buffy assured her and watched in amusement as the woman left with a nearly giddy smile on her face.
Buffy settled back into the bed and tried to rest—knowing one way or another Spike was going to be back sooner or later. Hopefully it would be it sooner; and hopefully it wouldn’t involve her having to explain how the nurse calling him a monster was obviously clearly mistaken and perhaps she had been on shift too long.
Because that? Would really ruin her good mood. And yes, she was in a good mood.
Spike had called her house home.
TBC……
(and I really will have new fics some day...yu know some day after I have the ability to have more than two minutes a day where I'm able to try to write them ;) Just try not giving up on the idea just yet)
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Author's Chapter Notes:
so uhm, that little trip of mine? sort of went and got extended a week without much warning....sorry! I tried finding internet for an update last week but it just wasn't going to happen, but luckily I got home last night so you do get one today--sorry about the missed one :)