All her life Buffy had hated hospitals. When she was a little girl, her favorite cousin had died in a hospital bed only feet away from where Buffy was shedding rivers of tears, and ever since then they had been a huge phobia for her.
She despised everything about them: how sterile-white they were; the smell; the cheeriness of the nurses even when they were staring into the face of tragedy.
In spite of that, Buffy had wanted to rush to Sunnydale General as soon as Willow had delivered the tragic news to her.
Through her tears, Willow had told her over the telephone that Anya had been attacked on her way to Xander’s house and that she was in hospital for her injuries. Willow and Xander were already at the hospital with the other girl, but the redhead had insisted that her friend wait until morning before she come racing down there.
In truth, a part of Buffy had been relieved that she had some time to mentally prepare. Not just for dealing with her phobia of hospitals, but also for what to say to her friend.
Buffy wasn’t good in situations where she needed to be sympathetic. Point her in the direction of someone who needed a verbal tearing-down and she was your girl. But give her someone who only needed a little empathy and she would invariably freeze up.
During the night, the comforting solace of sleep had evaded Buffy, but Spike had opened his arms to her and together they lay in the dark and silence, just clinging to each other.
Every time that another crying jag overtook her, he would bury his face in her hair and whisper reassurances to her.
When the light of dawn finally flooded through the drapes, the pair had showered together, washing each other down with tenderness. Neither was in any kind of state for it to develop into anything sexual, yet it had been the most intense form of intimacy for both.
But now the time had come to visit Anya and, clinging to Spike, Buffy entered Sunnydale General Hospital with trepidation.
She had to be strong though.
For Anya.
Buffy didn’t yet know all the details and Anya had apparently not been exactly coherent when Willow had arrived at the hospital, so the redhead hadn’t really been able to tell Buffy anything other than that she’d been attacked.
But the blonde had a ball of dread lying in the pit of her stomach that told her that Angel’s presence in town coinciding with Anya’s attack was more than just coincidence.
And if that was the case…
Buffy wrapped her arms tightly around her body while Spike went to find out where Anya’s room was. Leaning against the wall she kept her eyes fixed on her boots, not wanting to look around at the sick and dying.
She had experienced enough death already.
The waiting room was so full of sick and injured people and it made her stomach roil. All these souls had someone who cared about them. They belonged to someone. Yet their lives were so fragile that they could be taken away in a Sunnydale minute.
Just like her Mom’s life had been stolen from her.
Spike returned to her and interrupted her reverie. Sensing her discomfort, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled him to her.
“Your mate’s in room 1226.” He said, rubbing circles on her palm soothingly with his thumb.
The elevator was too silent apart from the whirr of machinery, which in itself kind of gave Buffy the creeps. She felt like she was walking the final mile to the gallows right now.
Of course, she wished she had more time to prepare herself, because the moment she stepped off of the elevator car, the barrage began.
“What the hell are you doing here?” A cold voice asked and Buffy’s head whipped up.
“Xander.” She said emotionlessly, her face blank as she stared at the young man in front of her.
He glared at her with cold eyes and the red circles and bags under those eyes stood out so boldly against his unusually pale skin that despite his cold manner toward her, she felt a rush of sympathy for him.
“What are you doing here, Buffy?”
“Willow called me…” The blonde started but he threw his arms in the air with a scoff.
“Oh so Willow called you, and now you two are best buddies again, you came running.”
Buffy and Spike pasted matching scowls on their faces at the boy, but he didn’t seem in the least fazed, and returned the glare with equal intensity.
“Actually, I came because I care about Anya and because I was upset to hear she was attacked.” Buffy insisted.
“Right, because you always cared so much about Anya before?” Xander sneered with venom. “You never liked her, even before…before you decided you were too good for the likes of us, and made with your little Houdini act.”
“Xan…that’s not what happened. Any of it.” She massaged her aching temples with her fingertips and took a deep breath while she tried to strengthen herself against his tirade. “Clearly there are many issues here. And I guess it’s gonna take some time to resolve them. But I’m here for Anya.”
“Well I don’t want you here. And I doubt Ahn does either.”
“I would say that’s up to the lady, not you, monkey boy.” Spike interjected fiercely. Buffy’s face was laced with relief when he spoke, even in spite of his jibe at the younger man, but Xander just kept his hostile stare in place as he surveyed the other guy.
“I don’t remember asking you, old man.” Xander said to Spike.
“You didn’t mate. But I couldn’t give a bloody flying fuck what you ask or don’t ask.”
Spike turned to Buffy tenderly and whispered in her ear.
“Your redheaded mate’s down the hall there. Why don’t you head on over to her. I want a word with the boy.”
Buffy looked alarmed at Spike’s words, but a soft hand on her back reassured her that he wouldn’t do anything stupid so she headed down the hallway toward where Willow was sitting on a chair.
Once Buffy was out of earshot Spike turned back to Xander who was still glowering at him in what the boy probably thought was a menacing way.
Unfortunately for Xander, Spike had some real experience with actual menacing people, and this child didn’t even come close.
“Listen mate,” Spike began in a low gravelly voice, “I know you have this ridiculous grudge against Buffy at the mo, but it stops now, or else.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” Xander maintained eye contact, not even flinching at Spike’s warning.
“No, I don’t. To be honest, I don’t care what you do unless it affects me. And if it affects Buffy then it does affect me. Now, see, you being a wanker towards that girl is hurting her, so you need to bloody well grow up and stop being a little boy.”
“Get over yourself, man. You’re her stepfather, not her freaking boyfriend.”
“I’m all she has right now. She’s just lost her Mum. Obviously you’re too much of a selfish little sod to make allowances for that though.”
Xander ran a hand through his already disheveled brown hair and sighed. He was so determined to hold on to his anger at Buffy, but he felt a little slip away at Spike’s words.
For the past months, Xander had been feeling abandoned and hurt by the girl. But deep down he knew she had her reasons. And she was going through a bad time right now.
Uncharacteristically, Xander conceded the point with a sigh.
“Fine. I’ll go easy on her.” He agreed.
Spike nodded approvingly before heading to the elevators in the direction Buffy had gone, leaving Xander alone to reflect on what had just transpired.
When Spike reached her he found her deep in conversation with Willow. Both girls were crying and he hurried over to her and pulled his girl into a comforting embrace.
“Oh god, Spike!” Buffy wailed. “It’s horrible. Anya was…she was…r.r.raped.”
His eyes turned cold and Willow flinched at the murderous glare in them.
“Did she identify the suspect yet?” Spike demanded.
“The cops are in with her now.” Willow informed him. “Me and Xander were in there with her earlier and they showed up and wanted to talk to her.”
“Did she tell you if she knew the person who attacked her?” He asked impatiently, the bad feeling spreading in his gut.
Willow shook her head in the affirmative.
“She told us that she recognized him from the other night in the Bronze. It was…Angel.”
“That fucking rat-arsed bugger!” He cried out, loosening himself from Buffy and lashing out at the wall with one of his boots.
“This is my fault.” Buffy said quietly.
“What? No, Buffy, this isn’t your fault at all!” Willow assured her friend.
“Yes it is!” She insisted. “Anya gave me her knife and otherwise she could have protected herself.”
“You can’t put this on yourself, Buffy. She told me and Xan this morning what happened. She was on her way over to Xander’s and Angel jumped her from behind. He had a knife, and he told her he would slit her throat if she didn’t…comply.”
Spike kicked at one of the chairs lining the corridor and growled. “That’s it. This ends now! I’m going after him myself.”
Spike was sick of that man hurting defenseless girls because it made him feel better about the pathetic asshole that he was. He’d done it for the last time when he hurt Buffy’s friend, and Spike was determined that it would end now.
“You’re going after him…alone.” Buffy mumbled with incredulity. “Are you insane?”
“No, I’m finally thinking straight.” He said. “I can’t let Angel hurt anyone else. This ends now.”
“Right so you’re going to go running around Sunnydale, unarmed, looking for a psychopath with a knife and God only knows what other weapons. Good plan Spikey!” Buffy said angrily. “Let me guess what you’re gonna do when you find him. Maybe you can give him a stern glaring at while he carves out your insides! That will teach him!”
“You’re forgetting I’m a black belt, pet. I can do more than glare at him. If I remember correctly you witnessed the whole sodding show last time.”
“I remember.” She whispered. “But that didn’t stop him, did it? There are only two things that will stop him. Either you kill him and go to prison, or we turn him in and he…retaliates by spilling everything he knows about…your past…and then you…”
“…go to bloody prison too.” Her lover finished with a groan.
“Maybe I can go. He won’t be expecting me.” Buffy said.
“Over my dead bloody body!” Spike scowled.
“Because I can’t handle it?”
“Because I won’t let my girl go after that nasty wanker all alone.”
“Meaning that you think I can’t handle it.” Buffy scowled. “I don’t need you to be all protect-y around me Spike.”
“Enough with the girl power bit, love. You’re not a bloody superhero. You’re a girl. A feisty one, I’ll bloody well give you that, but a girl nonetheless. And Angleus would have you for breakfast.”
The pair were still glowering at each other when the two cops came out of Anya’s room, both looking weary and concerned. They were whispering to each other in low tones as they passed the trio waiting in the hallway.
As they stepped into the elevator, another figure stepped off, and Spike, Buffy and Willow watched as Xander approached them, bearing donuts and coffee.
“I went down to the cafeteria to pick these up.” He said. “I thought maybe sugary goodness might cheer Ahn up. I got some for everyone.” He gave a lopsided half-smile to Buffy and she nodded at her old friend, acknowledging the gesture.
“I don’t think this is a boo-boo that will be fixed with donuts and coffee, Xan.” Willow told him sadly.
He gulped but didn’t say anything more. Xander Harris didn’t exactly feel well equipped to help his girlfriend get over the trauma of a rape. This was about as much as he felt he was capable of.
“Maybe I should talk to her?” Buffy offered.
“You?” Willow asked skeptically. In the time Willow had known the blonde, and no matter how much she loved her friend, she had never found her to be the most sympathetic of people.
Buffy also knew she wasn’t usually the kind to jump head first into emotional situations where she needed to show some kind of sympathy.
But Buffy knew something about loss and pain, and she had almost suffered the same fate at Angelus’ hands herself.
Maybe, after all her recent trauma, she was evolving.
Of course, this had nothing to do with the guilt that was welling up inside her, not only for not reporting him to the police when she was attacked, but also for being the lover of the man that had brought him to Sunnydale.
She just had to keep telling herself that.
“Yes, me. I really want to help her. She was there for me yesterday when I told her about…stuff. And I want to repay the favor.” Buffy said.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward Xander, as if somehow asking for his permission, and he hesitantly nodded.
“Maybe Buffy can help.” He said sounding a little unsure.
Buffy entered the room cautiously, as if there were snakes or live wires stashed somewhere that she didn’t want to accidentally step on.
Of course there were, but they were only the figurative kind.
Anya turned her pale drawn face to Buffy as she entered and tried for a smile that came off as more of a grimace.
The brunette’s face was peppered with bruises and one of her eyes was swollen shut. Her left arm was in a cast and her general demeanor screamed that of a victim.
The larger than life girl had been reduced to less than she had ever been by that bastard.
“How are you?” Buffy asked, immediately cursing herself internally for her stupid question.
“Not exactly peachy.” Anya replied wryly her eyes flickering to her plastered arm.
“I’m sorry, Anya.” Buffy said.
“For what?” Anya inquired.
“I feel like I brought this onto you. You’re my friend and Angel wants to hurt Spike through me. If it wasn’t for me…”
Anya sighed.
She hadn’t ever prided herself on being a very forgiving kind of girl. Grudges were much easier to keep than forgiveness was to award.
She still hated her father for the fact that he had left their maid to raise her more than he had. And she had a deep resentment toward her mother for leaving their family for the pool-boy when she was only a small child.
But she knew that Buffy needed to be forgiven here and now, because the guilt was written clearly on her face.
Sometimes we don’t always get what we need.
“You and your boyfriend did bring him here. Old friends, right? You said yourself he attacked you and yet you let him walk free.” Anya said tonelessly. “I don’t know why you didn’t make sure that he was locked up and I don’t know why this happened to me. I wish I did, because I don’t understand what I ever did that was so bad that I need to be punished this way. It was Angel that did this, you could have stopped him before he ever got the chance. I wish I could tell you that you’re absolved of any guilt in this, Buffy. But you’re not.”
Her lifeless eyes locked with Buffy’s and the blonde could see all the pain swimming around inside her. She could see the damaged soul that was wailing in agonizing torment inside Anya, and she fell apart herself.
She really understood just what she was responsible for. But she wasn't alone in this. Part of the guilt lay at Spike's door too.
Guilt was a bitch.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for the reviews and a big thank you to everyone who is still reading this story.
Just a little warning...this chapter and the next one deal with a sensitive subject.
Just a little warning...this chapter and the next one deal with a sensitive subject.