Author's Chapter Notes:
I know this story has been very angsty in the past few chapters and there is still a little more angst to come, but please stick with it and have faith that there will be light at the end of the tunnel. :)
Spike wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting in his car. It could have been seconds or hours or even days but he kept the engine off and his hands braced on the wheel. The thought of driving away and leaving Buffy, even after everything, was the most horrible torture but he knew that he had to give her the space she deserved.

Fishing his keys out of his pocket, fingered them vacantly in his trembling hands. He constantly reminded himself that he was doing the right thing in leaving her. As his fingers clenched around the key to start the engine, suddenly his ears were filled with pained shrieking.

“No!” he heard. “Please God no!”

Of course, he recognized that voice.

Buffy.

And something was wrong with her.

Leaping from the car without conscious thought, not even bothering to slam the door, he raced up the driveway to her mother’s small house. Even from a distance he could see that the front door was still open and his heart felt like a leaden rock in his chest. That scream had torn at him like a dagger, and he couldn’t help but think the worst. He jogged through the open doorway, coming to a halt as his eyes landed on the horrible scene before him.

Joyce Summers, the lovely lady who only that very morning had given him cocoa and chatted with him like he was an actual human being was lying sprawled in the floor, blood pooling around her head. Her right arm was bent at an unnatural angle and her complexion was deathly pale.

Her daughter was crouched beside her, floods of tears cascading from her eyes. She was tightly clasping her mother’s hand as she continued to kneel next to her, muttering incoherent nonsense.

“Buffy, love?” asked Spike, his face a picture of concern.

The young blonde blinked at the sound of his voice, before turning her head to him. For several seconds she stared unfocusedly at him, as if she was trying to remember who he was.

“Spike?” she croaked hoarsely. “I-I think something’s w-wrong with Mom.”

Slowly he approached the prone, bleeding woman and her crying child, kneeling down next to them. With extreme gentleness he placed his hand on Joyce’s wrist, his fingers searching for a pulse. For several moments he couldn’t locate anything but suddenly the barest of flutterings beat against his fingers.

“She’s got a pulse, pet,” he assured the distraught young woman next to him. “She’s alive but only just. We need to call an ambulance right now.”

Sluggishly Buffy turned to look at him, her head tilted as if she was trying to absorb exactly what was happening. As the realization struck him that Buffy was in shock, he frantically he dug through his pockets for his cell phone. His fingers danced over the keypad, dialing the number that he hoped would yank Joyce from the jaws of death.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The sterile voice on the other end of the line inquired politely.

“Er, I found a…friend on the floor and she’s bleeding, don’t know what’s wrong with her, but we need an ambulance here fast.”

“Is she conscious?” asked the operator.

“No, she was unconscious when we found her.”

“Is she breathing?”

“Yeah just about but her breath’s not strong. And her pulse feels like it’s fading too.”

Another wail pealed from Buffy’s lips as his words registered with her. Spike couldn’t concentrate on placating Buffy right now though. He had to prioritize and getting the paramedics to help Joyce was his first priority.

“Can you tell me what happened to her, Sir?” the voice on the other end of the line asked, pulling him out of his Buffy-centric thoughts.

“Don’t know. We just came home and found her on the ground and it looks like she hit her head on the floor. It’s a hard floor and she’s hurt. Please get someone over here right bloody now.”

“We’re sending someone now, Sir. Please remain calm and inform me if there’s any change.”

Any change? Spike almost scoffed. What kind of change did they expect? Did they think Joyce would suddenly leap off the ground and start tap-dancing her way through a re-creation of Singing in the Rain?

Trying to clear his mind and concentrate on the situation at hand, he sank back down to his knees next to Buffy and laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Paramedics are on their way, pet,” he told her gently, not wanting to startle her. She was in a near state of catatonic shock and it seemed like she might be on the verge of a total mental break. “We’re getting help for your Mum, okay?”

Buffy didn’t respond but just continued staring blankly down at her injured mother. He wasn’t sure what to do for her. In the movies, slapping someone usually achieved the desired effect but he couldn’t bring himself to hurt the little blonde right now, even if it was for her own good.

Well at least they’d be at the hospital soon. He just hoped that Buffy wouldn’t find herself having a little stint on the psych ward once they arrived there.

It seemed like forever before the paramedics finally showed up, and when they did arrive a nightmarish haze had already descended over both the blonds. Buffy was still unresponsive and Spike was starting to go into shock himself. Periodically he checked Joyce’s pulse and breathing but apart from that he remained still. For Spike, his inertia was more than a miracle as he was usually compelled into hyperactivity.

When the two young paramedics started working on Joyce, checking her vitals and attaching some futuristic looking equipment to her, he was forced to physically drag Buffy away to give them room to work.

She resisted and twisted in his arms but he kept an iron hold on her. Unusually having her in his arms didn’t provoke his arousal for once and he was infinitely glad about that. Now was not the time.

“We have a heartbeat and stable breathing so we’re going to take her in. Will you be riding in the ambulance with us?” asked one of the paramedics. He was a short, dumpy man with a round smiling face that put Spike more at ease. “One of you can come with.”

Glancing at the girl in his arms Spike shook his head. “No, we’ll follow in my car. Girl’s not up to it right now and if she goes with you in the van then you’ll have more than one patient to contend with.”

The other paramedic, a skinny redheaded man, nodded grimly. “She’s in shock. She might need looking at once she gets to the hospital.” He paused for a moment before shyly adding, “She is Buffy Summers right? I mean I know this is a horrible time to meet her but she’s my favorite actress. Do you think I could maybe get an autograph?”

Spike just stared at the other man in horror. Did he really think that Buffy wanted to discuss the nuances of her fame right now? Even if she wasn’t half zombified it was unlikely that she’d be willing to coo and gush and sign autographs for her fans while her mother was lurking at death’s door.

“Just get her mum to the bloody hospital you git!” Spike snapped, anger seeping from his pores.

Both the men jumped in fright as his voice bellowed at them. Even Buffy startled slightly before settling back into her catatonia. Eventually Spike would start worrying if she didn’t come out of shock, but for now a placid Buffy was better than a hysterical one.

While Joyce was loaded into the ambulance, Spike ushered Buffy into his old beat-up Desoto. He was fairly sure that if she was lucid right now she would have wrinkled her nose at his old car. However, she just sat still and staring straight ahead at the windshield as if it was a masterpiece of modern art.

It was only once they pulled into the hospital parking lot and the imposing figure of Sunnydale General loomed over them that the blonde actress finally started to emerge from her trance.

“We’re here,” he told her, pulling into a parking space and turning to face her. “Buffy, we’re at the bloody hospital so get that cute little head back down to earth and out of wherever it’s wandered off to.”

As Spike shut of the engine, he saw it happen in apparent slow motion, like watching someone wade through water.

Firstly her little brow furrowed in confusion as she tried to remember what had happened. Then as soon as the image of her mother lying on the ground came back to her so did the grief and pain. They flooded her, overwhelming her like a great and heavy burden. She couldn’t stay upright with this weight on her and then she buckled, her forehead hitting her knees.

Anger and sorrow warred within her, reddening her cheeks and bringing forth a gush of her tears. There were the hurricanes of tears, as crying went. Huge sobs scorching her heart as they broke free from her damaged psyche.

“Come on now, pet,” Spike said uncomfortably. “You’re the strong one here. Don’t let me down, lovely.”

But she couldn’t stop crying. It was as if she would cry enough tears to flood the world. Well Spike wouldn’t be getting on the Ark. He would stay right at Buffy’s side through any natural disaster, demon disaster or trickery of the damn Powers That Be…even if he drowned because of it.

In the past Spike had seen many sides of Buffy but he’d never seen her looking so raw and vulnerable. Despite her diminutive size, she always seemed larger than life, feisty and full of fire. But now she seemed lost and broken and all he wanted was to take her in his arms and never let her go.

“We need to go inside,” he told her, keeping his voice as tender as he could muster. He was still working through his own shock at finding Joyce on the ground like that but he wouldn’t allow his own pain to show when he needed to remain strong.

“I-inside?” she stammered as if he was telling her that she needed to walk the green mile.

“We need to find out how your mum is, Summers. I know this is bloody hard for you but you can do this.”

Shaky hands reached up and wiped away her tears and she nodded. “You’re right. We n-need to…uh…we need to see Mom.”

Keeping her arms firmly wrapped around herself, she climbed out of the car. Her unfocused eyes remained downcast as she followed Spike into the sterile hospital. It was so…cold in there. She hated hospitals and being here now when her mother’s life was hanging in the balance was nothing short of torture.

For once she was glad that Spike was with her, that she didn’t have to face this alone. All her life she’d felt alone, but having a shoulder to lean on wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was liberating.

Just as they walked into the ER, they saw the two paramedics rushing Joyce through the large room. A doctor sprinted to her side, yelling some instructions to one of the nurses. It seemed so frantic that Buffy couldn’t really absorb the scene yet. Joyce was covered with a mask and there were wires over her chest. The image stabbed at Buffy and she felt the hysteria smack into her again, almost flooring her. Immediately she was filled with the urge to rush to her mother, needing to see her, to help her.

“Don’t let her die!” Buffy shrieked, barely holding herself back from running after her mother. Her hands clapped over her mouth as she repeated her prayer over and over.

“They’re gonna help her, pet,” Spike said, ready to hold her back if she decided to rush after her mother. Right now the doctors needed to concentrate on the sick woman and they didn’t need a hysterical Buffy interfering with them. She would have the time to be with her mother later, when she was better.

Or at least he hoped so.

“God, she can’t die. Please Mommy, I need you,” Buffy cried, swaying wildly on her feet. “Why? Why did this happen? Oh God, Mommy!”

“We need to let the docs do their jobs. They know what they’re doing and they’ll take care of her. They better bloody well had.”

As they watched Joyce disappear through the doors with the doctors, Buffy’s sobbing returned full force. She was heaving with the horrible pain that seared through her. Powerless to do anything, Spike felt like he was being torn in two. He had nothing to offer but his own comfort and he didn’t know if Buffy would accept that from him.

However, he was shocked when she turned toward him and buried her face in his chest, clinging to him like he was the only life raft that was stopping her from drowning in her misery.

Without any thought his arms came up around her and as they sank to the floor together, he wrapped his slim body around her tinier one, holding her, comforting her, protecting her.

He wouldn’t leave her now. Not even if she wanted him to.





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