Playing Florence Nightingale:
If they had been human the blast would certainly have killed them, as it is they’ve barely made it out alive. As Buffy opens her eyes the first feeling to enter her mind is unbearable pulsating pain. Somewhere in the back of her brain she can hear Spike’s voice, but she’s not yet conscious enough to make out what he’s saying all she knows is that he’s speaking to her in a velvety murmur. The only thing Buffy can truly comprehend right now is that every inch of her body is throbbing in torment.
“Buffy, Love, God, Buffy wake up.” Buffy’s eyes focus on the scene around her: fire, blood, destruction.
Spike’s face is streaming with blood from a gash across his forehead. His blue eyes are deep liquid pools that stare at her intently. A warm glow from the fire burning behind him illuminates his platinum locks making his form glow as his dirtied and blood stained hand runs over her cheek. Buffy pushes herself up and winces in pain. She looks over her own body then and gasps with fear. As the air is sucked into her lungs she once again winces in anguish. A large piece of wood protrudes from her abdomen and a deep cut runs down her thigh. Her jeans and shirt are ripped to shreds as are Spikes and dirt and ash cover every inch of them both.
“Oh my God… Spike.”
“I know, I know love, it’s alright… we’re alright.” Despite his comforting words his voice still holds more then an inch of panic.
--
Buffy and Spike practically collapse as they walk through the front door, their bodies are beaten and broken and exhausted from their walk home. A walk that had dragged on for what seemed like forever keeping the safety of home at a distance. Dawn and Willow are the first to notice their arrival and rush to their sides.
“Oh My God, Buffy… what happened?” Willow asks as she rushes to her best friend’s side. Dawn stands nearby with a look of dread across her features.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Nibblet, go run your sister a bath, she’ll need to get these wounds cleaned out before they start to heal,” Spike says and Dawn is all too happy to disappear up the stairs.
“Holy shit you guys are thrashed. What did this?” Xander asks with true concern as he enters from the dining room.
“The principal decided to take up a vendetta with me and bring Buffy down as well," Spike says as Anya appears next to Xander in the doorway.
“Ah vengeance… obviously he didn’t know what he was doing cause if I had been involved you would have been dead, although you do look pretty beaten up so I have to give him so points for effort.”
“Ayn, please.”
“What? I’m just saying.”
Spike slips out of his duster and hangs it on the wall wanting to discard the extra weight. Earlier the blast had thrown it up and over his head when they jumped through the window and now it is thoroughly covered in ash inside and out. Footsteps are then heard and all faces turn to see Dawn making her way down the stairs. She looks sick to her stomach and Buffy and Spike are both positive that they are the reason for her expression.
“The bath is ready,” Dawn says.
“Red, think you cold maybe help her up the stairs and give her a hand getting undressed?”
“What about you?” Buffy interjects before Willow can respond.
“I’ll clean up down here.”
“Spike, you’re almost as bad as I am and…" Buffy's eyes flutter back and forth in their sockets as her mind races. "You should just come up with me.”
“Buffy I don’t think…”
“Spike…” Buffy’s voice is low “I need help and I don’t want anyone else to see how bad it is.” Buffy’s eyes are pleading.
“I can’t,” Spike’s voice breaks. “I just don’t think… I… I don’t think I can... be in that room with you.” Spike watches as realization of his words and memories of the last time they had been in the bathroom float to the surface of Buffy’s brain. Her expression looks as pained as his in that moment.
“Spike,” Willow says as she places a hand on Spike’s arm. “I think you should go with her, she wants you to go… you guys need to work through this eventually.” Spike is surprised by her soft words.
“Spike please,” Buffy pleads.
Wordlessly Spike wraps his arms around the wounded slayer and slowly leads her up the stairs. Once he’s reached the top Xander is standing before Willow with an accusatory look across his face.
“What the hell Willow, do you really think that was a good idea?” Xander says while Anya rolls her eyes from behind him.
“Oh Xander, honestly, do you really think anything’s gonna happen with them as beaten up as they are?” Anya asks, but Xander ignores her. Willow then looks him dead in the eyes with her resolve face.
“Xander, I don’t care what you think about Spike. He’s changed and we’ve all seen it and there’s a lot more at stake right now then your feelings… He and Buffy are gonna be together for a very long time.”
“So what, you’re trying to play match-maker for the evil-undead?”
“Xander I don’t care if they get together, but I think they should be on good terms.”
“I don’t really see why that’s so important.”
“God Xander, you can be so thick sometimes you know,” Anya says and Xander spins to face her. “Don’t you get it, Buffy’s immortal now, which means all of us are gonna die one day and she’ll still be here. She’ll be the only one who’s still here, except for Spike… Willow’s just trying to look out for her friend, so she’s not alone.” Xander’s rage starts to boil, but then he takes a deep breath and actually seems to be letting what the women before him have said soak in. He doesn’t like it but he nods once in understanding then treads off to the living room.
--
The bathroom is steamy when Spike pushes the door open, although really the temperature of the water won’t matter. Having a body that’s room temperature makes feeling differences in the world around him much more minuet, and the same is for Buffy now. The second the room comes into view flashes of that night move through his mind and he thinks in that moment that the guilt might kill him. The only thing that keeps Spike from booking it out of the room is her soft hand on his face drawing him to look at her.
“Spike, it’s okay.”
“No, Buffy it’s not okay… it will never be okay, what I did…”
“What you did is in the past, Spike... I for…”
“No, don’t tell me you forgive me. I don’t deserve it.”
“Well then listen to it because I need to say it.” Spike looks at her with pain in his eyes. “Everything that has happened between us in the past is just that, in the past… we’re both to blame for how things went and I’m sorry, and I also forgive you. I forgive you for everything.”
“How?”
“Because I believe in you, I believe that you’re a good man.” Her words are honest and Spike truly does believe them. “Now please, can you help me into the bath?” Her tone is a little lighter now and brings a half smile to Spike’s face. He simply nods.
Spike helps Buffy walk to the tub and she sits down at its edge. Behind her bubbles pop and Spike smiles at Dawn’s thoughtfulness. He kneels before Buffy moving silently and carefully as he takes her shoes off for her. Once that is done Spike looks back up at Buffy.
“You know, you could probably make it into the tub on your own now.”
“Spike… please stay with me… I just, I need someone here and you’re the only person I feel comfortable being around right now.” Spike nods. Buffy then starts to pull her shirt or what is left of it, over her head and Spike turns away. Once Buffy has it off she notices that Spike has a huge gash across his back.
“Oh God, Spike… your back, come here, let me look at it.” Spike turns back to her but avoids looking straight at her. Buffy notices his distance.
“Spike… this isn’t about sex, there is nothing wrong about this… please look at me.” He meets her gaze and their eyes move together for a moment. “Take off your shirt,” Buffy commands and Spike complies then turns around for Buffy to see. She runs her fingers lightly across the cut that runs beside his spine.
“You should get in here too, it’s pretty dirty… were both covered in ash.”
“Not like it’ll get infected.”
“Spike, please.” Spike nods and Buffy starts to shimmy out of her jeans. Spikes then hears Buffy gasp and wince as she pulls her jeans off.
“What’s wrong?” Spike’s eyes are worrisome.
“Just lots of cuts… and burns, I’ll feel better when I get into the water.” Spike takes off his boots then stops undressing wondering how far he should go. When his eyes look back at Buffy she’s unclasped her bra and slides it to the floor. Spike instantly diverts his gaze until after he can hear Buffy pulling herself beneath the water. Her eyes are on his when he finally looks at her. “Come on, take them off and get in.”
“Buffy, are you sure about this?” She just looks at him with resolve, and then he undoes his jeans.
Spike’s glad to see Buffy respectfully look away, it makes him more comfortably although he isn’t positive why. Buffy scoots forward in the tub and Spike slides in behind her. Beneath the bubbles the water is already stained red and bits of dirt and ash float at its surface, but it’s still welcoming. Spike rests his head against the tile wall behind him and Buffy sets hers against his body. Spike then calms down and his thoughts of what had happened the year before vanish. They rest in the water for a long while letting their muscles relax and their racing minds slow. There’s nothing sexual about their interaction, nothing perverse or out of place, they simply share in each other’s company allowing themselves to be completely vulnerable and open to the other.
Buffy bends her knee raising it out of the water revealing the deep gash in her thigh. Spike absentmindedly reaches an arm around her body to run his fingers along side it.
“We should probably stitch that up,” Spike says.
“The one on your back too… and the one through my abdomen, those are the worst.” Spike thinks back to when they were lying in the rubble of the exploded house and he had pulled the splintered piece of wood from her flesh. He cringes at the memory. “Spike?”
“Yeah love?”
“We’re gonna be okay right? I mean… I’ve just never had injuries this bad before, not when I was human.”
“So long as were not dust we’ll mend just fine.” Buffy nods and leans her head back against Spike. He wraps his arms around her and they both drift off for a short while allowing their bodies to rest.
--
Spike walks back into the bathroom wearing nothing but his jeans and opens the medicine cabinet. Buffy waits in her room as they have some more mending to do. Spike decided after their bath that they were both healing fast enough that stitches won’t be needed; however bandages are still a good idea. He grabs a roll of bandages and walks back out and into Buffy’s room closing the door behind him.
Buffy sits on her bed in a pair of boy-short black underwear and a black tank top rolled up to reveal the wound in her abdomen. Spike notes that already she looks better, most of her burns are already gone and of course she’s clean of the dirt and ash from the fire. Spike sits down beside her on the bed.
“Here love,” Spike says as he hands Buffy a large square shaped bandage. Buffy sets the bandage across the wound in her belly while Spike dresses the other side of it on her lower back.
“Thanks.”
“No need to thank me, now let’s get your leg.” Buffy pulls herself back father across the mattress and stretches out her leg. Spike starts to dress it and Buffy watches.
“I suppose this will probably become a thing with us huh?”
“I bloody well hope not.”
“I didn’t mean… I meant… I just meant that we’ll probably be fighting together for a long time, you know.” Spike looks up at Buffy with an odd expression. “Since we’re both vampires now.”
“You being a vampire has nothing to do with me fighting by your side.” Spike finds himself baffled by her words. He’d be by her side regardless of what she is.
“Not now it doesn’t… but it will.”
“What are you taking about?”
“I’m… Spike, you’re the only one I have right now who I know will always be there.”
“Your friends will always be there too, Buffy.”
“Yeah I know… probably for as long as they live, but they won’t live forever.” Realization of what Buffy is saying dawns on Spike.
“Oh.”
“Yeah… I just, I want you to know that I’m glad I have you.”
“You’ll always have me.” Buffy smiles.
“And I’ll always be here… now turn around it’s my turn to bandage you up.”
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