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Author's Chapter Notes:
Such an angsty fic, but I really, really like writing it so far, so I hope you guys like it too.
Chapter Three:

Spike's cuticles were bleeding. That's what happens when you chew on your fingernails for forty-five minutes straight. The waiting area of St. John's Hospital ER wasn't the most confidence inspiring place to be at the moment. For the one hundredth time, he glanced around the room. Yep, same crowd as before. There was the older gentleman clutching his arm with a pained expression, there was the large woman with three sniffling kids that had done nothing but complain since they arrived there, there was the middle-aged couple with some indeterminate issue, and there was the young skater punk with the swollen knee. He had been thankful that Buffy was seen as a priority and that resulted in her immediately being taken to an examining room.

God. He let out a tired sigh and rubbed his hand across his face and through his mess of platinum blond curls. He must look like hell. He was exhausted and shell-shocked, and he felt ashamed for even giving his state of mind a second thought. Buffy's the one he should be worried about.

"Hey...Spike?" He glanced up at the kind face of the nurse that had met them at the emergency room doors. Buffy had been in a blind panic when they entered the hospital. Spike knew from the look in her eyes that she was ready to run. Thankfully, this slim brunette nurse came across them and her very presence seemed to calm Buffy quite a bit. She said to call her 'Fred.' Odd name for a bird, but he didn't really have any room to talk. Probably a nick like his anyway. He quietly explained the situation to Fred, and she immediately escorted Buffy to a room. She assured Spike that she would have a female doctor check her out ASAP. Real understanding bird, that one.

He forced a small smile. "Hey, Fred...know anything yet?" Spike had been torn between insisting on being present during the exam and sitting it out in the waiting room. He worried that being in the room with Buffy during something so invasive might cause a strain on their friendship. It was one of those pitfalls of being best friends with the opposite sex.

"Sorry...no. Just wanted to give you this." She held up a little styrofoam cup of coffee. "You look half dead. Thought you could use this."

He gratefully accepted the cup and choked down a few swallows of the vile hospital coffee. "God...that's..."

"Disgusting. I know. It works, though. It's the savior of the night shift." She hesitated for a moment before taking the seat to Spike's right.

Spike glanced at her curiously, "Everything's okay, right? I mean...that's a stupid question..."

She smiled sweetly, "I understand what you mean. Yeah, everything's going about as well as you would expect. She's in there with Dr. Walsh right now. She...froze up a bit, but that's really not that unusual." She noticed Spike flinch at her statement and lightly touched his arm. She waited a moment until his troubled cerulean eyes met her own soft brown eyes. In a reassuring tone, she continued, "It'll be okay, Spike. She's lucky she has you to help her through this. Trust me, I've seen all kinds of scenarios play out in this emergency room. Not all boyfriends are as understanding as you."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Somehow, it always shocked him when people thought he and Buffy were a couple. He supposed when a man and woman were as close as they were, people just made assumptions. "I'm not her boyfriend, pet. We're just friends...well, not just friends...she's the closest friend I have." He took a shaky breath. "She's my everything," he murmured more to himself than Fred.

Fred lightly rubbed his forearm, "You must love her very much."

"I do," Spike stated immediately. "I just can't believe anyone would do this to her." He was embarrassed to hear his voice crack and tried clearing his throat to cover it up. "I swear I'll look forever if I have to. I'll find this bastard...I'll find this bastard..." he trailed off and wiped furiously at his eyes to remove the moisture he felt pooling there. "I'm such a bloody ponce," he muttered under his breath.

Fred shook her head, "You're a good friend, Spike." She glanced at the clock above the nurses' station. "I'm gonna go check on her, okay?"

Spike graced her with a watery smile. "Okay...thanks, Fred," he whispered before absently taking another sip of the bitter coffee.

For the next twenty minutes, Spike squirmed in his chair—tapping his foot, chewing his nails, and tugging on his curls. He had managed to finish off the cup of motor oil they called coffee and now he had a rather unhealthy buzz going. He couldn't stop glancing towards the nurses' station, desperately trying to will Fred to reappear.

When she finally did return, he bolted to his feet. He was disturbed to find this previously serene healthcare worker looking rather frazzled.

"Fred," he began urgently, "what is it? Is something wrong? Tell me!" For the millionth time, he ran a shaky hand through his wild blond locks.

"Calm down, Spike." She spoke evenly in direct contrast to the flustered expression on her face. "I need you to come with me." At his wide-eyed look of sheer panic, she continued, "Everything is fine. Okay? Just stay calm for Buffy. She needs you right now."

He nodded, though he really didn't understand what was going on. At Fred's request, he followed her past the nurses' station. He couldn't resist the urge to question her further, but before he had a chance, he was distracted by the shrill sounds of a woman yelling. He stopped abruptly when he realized he recognized the sound. He'd heard it most recently a couple of weeks ago when he'd snuck in the bathroom and flushed the toilet while Buffy was using his shower. Shit. What are they doing to her?

Before he could grab Fred and shake her, demanding that she take him to Buffy immediately, she pulled open a nearby door and the yelling instantly became earsplitting.

"Get the fuck away from me, you fucking bitch!"

Spike stepped into the room and was horrified to see Buffy wearing only a thin hospital gown, cowering in the corner while some strange woman hovered over her with a syringe.

"What the fuck is going on here!" he roared, causing all three women to jump in surprise.

The woman with the syringe recovered first and regarded him with an annoyed expression. "Your girl got a little worked up after the exam. I just want to give her something to calm her down."

Buffy's mouth dropped open, "I got worked up, because you implied that this was my fault!" She sunk farther into the corner, afraid that she was going to get stuck at any moment.

Spike turned towards the woman with a shocked expression, "Is that true?!"

She let out a long-suffering sigh, "I might have speculated a bit on her relationship with the perpetrator." She gave Spike a withering look, "I don't have to explain myself to you. I'm just trying to do my job."

"Dr. Walsh," Fred began in a hard voice that surprised everyone in the room, "you've finished the examination, right? Bloodwork as well?" The doctor answered with a curt nod. "I think we can take care of it from here then."

For a moment, Dr. Walsh looked ready to object, but then she simply lowered the syringe, gathered a few things around the room and walked out the door without another word.

Spike let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. He nodded his head at the brunette, "Thanks, Fred."

"No problem. I'm just sorry that happened. Sometimes, Dr. Walsh doesn't think before she speaks." She smiled softly, "She is a good doctor, though. I'm sure she did a very thorough exam, but..." she turned towards Buffy, "I'm really sorry she made you uncomfortable." Glancing between the two blonds, she continued, "Why don't I give you two a moment alone." At Buffy's shaky nod, she backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Spike looked over the shivering girl in the corner. If anything, her scratches and bruises looked worse. He expected that, though. What he didn't expect was how tiny she looked to him now. No doubt, she was a small woman, but now...she looked like a stiff breeze would blow her away. He'd have to make sure to feed her when they got back to his apartment. He noticed that she was watching his face intently as he perused her injuries.

"Pet," he began softly, "are you...how are you?"

She wrapped her arms tightly around her body and continued leaning in the corner. "I'm...better now that the bitch is gone."

Spike smiled at that, it was good to hear the anger in her voice. "We'll make sure you don't have to deal with her anymore. Did she give you any prescriptions?"

"She suggested some over the counter pain relievers...and I took a pill to make me not..." she trailed off uncomfortably.

"Get pregnant?" Spike inquired in a neutral voice.

"Uh...yeah...I'm supposed to take the other one in twelve hours." She gestured towards a small box on the examination table.

"We'll make sure you take that then." He glanced around the room until he spotted a set of scrubs lying by the sink. He picked them up and slowly approached the girl in the corner. He held them out to her. "Here, why don't you change. We need to...talk about...something, but you should get dressed first. I'll be right outside." He turned and headed for the door.

"Spike!" Hearing her shout, he immediately flipped around to face her.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"Nothing...I just...you can stay, you just need to..." She twirled her finger to indicate that she wanted him to turn around.

"Oh...all right then." He gave her a nod of agreement before turning to face the opposite direction. He could hear fabric rustling behind him for a few moments. At her signal, he moved to face her. If possible, she looked even smaller in the over-sized scrubs. He was surprised to feel tears pricking his eyes. He'd been holding back on and off all night, but he hadn't expected the sight of her in a set of baggy scrubs to be what finally set him off. He blinked rapidly and swallowed, trying to find his voice. "Kitten, we need to talk about contacting the police. I asked the hospital to hold off, because I wanted to talk to you first, but—"

"No, Spike," she interrupted.

"Buffy..." He met her eyes...and didn't like what he saw.

"I'm not doing it, Spike. They'll just make it worse." She shook her head, rapidly wringing her hands all the while.

Spike was exhausted and beyond frustrated, and desperately didn't want to take it out on the girl in front of him. "You have to go to the police, so they can catch this bastard!"

She blinked up at him, holding back tears. "Please, Spike. I can't deal with this right now...maybe later...the hospital keeps the stuff for awhile, right?"

"That stuff is called a rape kit." Hearing that horrible word come out of his mouth for the first time that night startled Spike. He paused for a moment before forcing himself to continue, "You were raped, Buffy." He spoke slowly, more for his benefit than hers. He was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his voice steady. "They'll keep the kit for awhile, yeah, but not forever." He tiredly closed his eyes. "Buffy," he pleaded, "please talk to the police. The sooner you do it, the better chance they have of catching him. Please." He opened his eyes and asked once more, "Please, Buffy, will you report this?"

She studied his weary blue eyes. She knew he was dead on his feet, and she was only making him feel worse with her noncompliance, but she felt certain of her answer.

"No."


Chapter End Notes:
Hope you liked it! Still interested? Let me know! Thanks!



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