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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm on fire this week! First, I can't write because of stress, and now I'm writing all the time because of stress. I'd be lying if I said I've never been accused of being moody. I think I'm just reacting to the fact that my facility closes in a week, and I have no idea how much time I'll have for writing in the future. It could totally go either way at this point. Regardless, I'll continue to write when I can. So, here's Chapter 2 of Fix You. Thanks!
Chapter Two:

He was exhausted. He was drained. Spike's mind was clearly not operating at its highest level. He blamed that on the hours on end he'd spent absorbed in pages of medical terminology when he should have been more concerned about sleep deprivation. That had to be the explanation for why he was being so slow about processing the situation.

He was able to gather his wits enough to usher the poor girl into his apartment and provide her with a glass of water that shook in her hand, but the ability to form actual sentences that would be of any use seemed to elude him at the moment.

As she stumbled across his living room, he had simply stood there quietly blinking the moisture from his eyes. He observed her as she curled her body protectively into her spot on the couch. And it was her spot. She had been the one to convince him to purchase the orange and yellow-striped monstrosity from the Salvation Army the day after he moved out of his uncle's home. For the past four years, hardly an evening had gone by that she couldn't be found taking up residency on the worn, faded cushions.

He sighed and ran a hand over his face, hoping to clear his mind. The only close contact he'd had with her since she entered the apartment had been a slight brush of their fingers as he handed her the glass of water. Though he wasn't exactly sure why yet, he felt his stomach turn when she jumped at the light touch. This did, however, make him feel more confidant in his decision to skip the worried embrace that was his knee-jerk reaction to her appearance. At the time, he had mainly been concerned with aggravating her injuries.

After a few tentative sips, she set the water on the floor. She leaned her head back against the couch and waited. She was afraid if she opened her mouth, she would start crying and never stop. It just hurt so much...in every way. She came here for a reason. Spike would know what to do. So...she waited.

Suddenly realizing that he had stood to one side of the room for much too long, Spike carefully approached the mute girl. She looked so battered and broken. It was almost like he couldn't even see the young woman he knew. This couldn't be his Buffy—but it was.

He seated himself on the coffee table, which placed his body less than a foot from hers. He was relieved when she didn't flinch at his proximity. Taking it one step further, he reached out and took one of her small hands in his.

"Buffy," he croaked. Clearing his throat, he tried again, "Buffy, luv, what...what happened?"

For a few tense moments, he thought she wouldn't answer. Then in a tiny voice that barely registered to his ears, she replied, "I don't know."

He shook his head slowly. "You...you don't know? You don't remember?"

"I do," she whispered.

He almost squeezed her hand out of frustration, but forced himself to gently stroke her with his thumb instead. "Tell me," he pleaded, unsuccessfully trying to meet her eyes.

"He hurt me..."

"Fuck..." Spike muttered. "Who hurt you, kitten?"

"He said...his name was Brian," she looked up and met his eyes, her own cloudy with some indecipherable emotion, "but I don't think it was."

"Sweetheart," Spike began carefully, "did he...how did he hurt you?" The scratches and bruises were horrendous, but they would be a godsend if they were the end of it.

Her eyes flickered down to their joined hands. "You know," she stated quietly but with certainty.

He opened his mouth to object but snapped it shut when he realized that she was right. He did know. Now, what was he going to do with that knowledge? How was he going to fix this, when he'd already failed so miserably at protecting her?

He clenched his jaw and readied himself for battle. "Buffy...I need you to come get in the car with me."

Her eyes flew to his and there was no denying the emotion in them was fear. "Why!" she cried, pulling her hand from his grasp.

Spike took a breath and tried his best to appear more patient than he felt. "Sweetheart, you know you have to..." he trailed off, rethinking his words, "Buffy, it's important that you go to the hospital and get checked out."

She sniffled and tugged at her hair, "I can't, Spike! You know I can't."

He spoke softly and evenly, "Pet, I know you're scared, but you need to get checked out. I'll be there with you. I won't let anything happen to you." I've already allowed enough.

She met his stormy blue eyes. She knew it would do no good, but still she begged, "Please, Spike, can't you take care of me? You always take care of me. Please...."

His lips formed a rueful smile, "Not this time, luv." He desperately wanted to avoid going into the ins and outs of the morning after pill and STD testing. He might be on his way to becoming a doctor...hopefully...but she didn't need to hear all of that.

Buffy drew herself farther into a fetal position. How could he ask her to go there? Her grandparents had gone there after the car accident. Her mother had been there for weeks. Now, they were all gone. And he wanted to sacrifice her to the sterile rooms and lab coats. Didn't he know better?

"I—I just need a shower, Spike...some bandages..." And to close my eyes and never wake up.

As distasteful as it was, Spike snorted, "You need a hell of a lot more than that, pet." He shook his head. "And you're not taking a shower."

"What! Why!" She was alarmed by his proclamation.

God, this was harder than he thought. She wasn't being rational and he was letting himself become much too frustrated with her, but if he stopped pushing now, they'd both end up in a sobbing heap on the couch. He felt like his heart was breaking. Why did doing right by her have to consist of forcing her to do something she was terrified of?

"I promise you, after you get checked out, you can have as many showers as you want." He forced himself to smile. "I'll even buy you your favorite ice cream, and we can watch one of those atrocious romantic comedies you love so much." He thought he saw a slight sparkle in her eye. She seemed like such a child sometimes. That thought made this all seem that much more horrific. "Kitten, I'm not going to give up, so you might as well come get in the car."

She studied his face. His eyes seemed slightly glazed but determined, and his jaw was firmly set. This was Spike...her Spike...and she knew in a battle of wills, he would always come out the winner. He'd always been the strong one. Only a year older than her, but it seemed more like ten in comparison. There was no use in continuing the pretense that she was going to get her way.

"Okay," she whispered.

Spike let out a sigh of relief. It pained him to see her looking so defeated, but he would feel much better when she was in the care of professionals.

He moved from the coffee table and stood beside the couch. He held out his hand. After a moment, she took it and rose from the orange and yellow furniture. She obediently allowed herself to be led to the door. Spike picked a worn, leather jacket off of the hook next to the door and wrapped it around her shoulders. Grabbing his keys off the small table beneath the light switch, he opened the door and pulled her outside.

Soon, they were crossing the small parking lot en route to his old DeSoto. He glanced over at her, but her face revealed nothing. There was no doubt the hospital was going to be a nightmare, but he felt it would be easy compared to dealing with her reaction when it came time for him to suggest getting the police involved—and he definitely would. If he couldn't get the whole story from her, maybe they could.

As she silently waited for him to unlock the car doors, he prayed that she hadn't noticed the single tear streaking his cheek. He had to be strong...for her.


Chapter End Notes:
I hope you liked it! This fic is still new, so please let me know if you want it to continue. Thanks!



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