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Two Months Later



Buffy sat silently in her seat as Joyce drove her toward their house on Revello Drive. The smell of flowers was threatening to choke her and one of the balloons from the bouquet that Willow had brought her kept hitting her in the back of the head. It floated into the front seat and Buffy grabbed it, squeezing it with all of her strength. It popped and Joyce shrieked, yanking the steering wheel to the right and hitting a curb. Buffy dropped the ribbon that the balloon had been attached to and stared out at the road, not even flinching when Joyce barely missed hitting a speed limit sign.




Joyce clutched her chest as soon as she got the car under control. Her first instinct had been to shout at her daughter, but one look at her pale face and dark eyes had silenced her anger. Instead, she reached out and touched Buffy’s hand. The girl jerked away as if she had been burned and crossed her arms. Undaunted, Joyce patted her leg and spoke softly. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you this, but your friends are at the house. They want to throw you a surprise party.”



“And you let them?” Buffy snapped, glaring at her mother briefly. “Thanks, I ’m fucking thrilled to know that people will be there to gawk at me.”




“You won’t take that tone with me, Buffy, and you won’t use that word in my presence.”





“Whatever.”




The rest of the drive was traveled in an uncomfortable silence that wasn’t broken until Joyce turned into the driveway and Buffy groaned. There was a colorful banner hanging on the front porch and Xander and Giles were putting the finishing touches on a ramp that ran halfway down the sidewalk. As Buffy watched, the front door opened and Willow and Anya came rushing toward the passenger side. “Great. Just -fucking- great.”




Joyce was already out of the vehicle, pulling the wheelchair from the backseat, but she heard and cleared her throat. “I meant what I said.”




Buffy took her seatbelt off as Willow yanked the door open. “Hey, Buffy. It’ s so good to see you in street clothes. Those hospital gowns are so depressing.”




“And you look good.” Anya supplied, taking the blanket that Joyce held out.




Xander laid his hammer down and made his way to the vehicle. He exhaled tiredly, and brushed his hair back from his sweaty forehead. “We’re not finished yet. I don’t think it’s safe to push her up the ramp. I’ll just carry her in.”




“Okay.” Joyce closed the chair and lifted it, heading toward the stairs.




“Mom!” Buffy called angrily. “Hello? I think I should have some say. I don't want to be carried!”




Xander shook his head and reached into the car. “You’re outvoted and out optioned.”




Buffy closed her eyes as he hooked his arms under her legs and around her back. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She couldn’t bear to look at any of them and see the pain in their eyes and the pity that they tried to hide. Their Slayer was gone, replaced by the wisp of a girl who was being carried by her best friend; carried instead of walking tall beside him, where she should be. She opened her eyes in time to see Giles and immediately looked away. He had stopped hammering and was watching her intently.




And his disappointment in her was written on his face.




Once inside, Joyce ushered Xander into the living room, where she had put blankets on the sofa. Buffy looked back, over his shoulder, at the stairs and her throat constricted. She used to run up and down them, taking them two at a time. Now she would be lucky to ever see the top floor of her house again. Xander put her on the sofa and pulled a blanket around her legs, then he patted her head. Buffy pushed his hand away angrily. “What am I, your puppy?”




“Sorry, Buffy. It’s just good to see you home.” Xander glanced at her, then at Willow, who motioned him to go outside. “Well, I’m going to go finish that ramp.”




“I’m going to watch.” Anya said quickly. “I bet he’ll strip down to his wife beater before the day is done.”




Rolling her eyes, Willow sat down in a chair beside the couch. “Some things never change.”




“And some do.” Buffy said, trying to shift into a more comfortable position.




“Do you need some help?” Willow got to her feet and reached for Buffy, offering her a hand to pull up on.




“Did I ask you for help?”




Willow stood upright quickly and then moved back to her chair. “I’m sorry.”




“God, if one more person tells me that they’re sorry, I’m going to scream.”




“Buffy, it’s just that-.”




“That what? You’re sorry you can walk? You’re sorry I can’t? You’re sorry you weren’t there to help me? You’re sorry I’m a Slayer? Get over it, Willow. I don’t care.”




The redhead’s chin quivered and she got to her feet, hurrying into the kitchen to help Joyce. Giles had tried to prepare them, going so far as to rent a video about dealing with paralysis victims. Buffy’s attitude wasn’t rare. It was actually common and Willow couldn’t hold it against her. It didn’t make it hurt less though. As she stepped into the kitchen, she saw Joyce leaning against the refrigerator, sobbing softly. “Miss Summers?”




“Oh, Willow!” Joyce dabbed at her eyes with a paper towel and tossed it in the trash. “Does Buffy need something?”




“I think she’s doing better than you are.” Willow crossed the small distance and gave the woman’s hand a squeeze. “Have you told her yet?”




“No.” Joyce patted the younger girl’s back and then stepped away, busying herself at the coffee pot. “How do I tell my child that I can’t afford the kind of care that she needs? How do I tell her that insurance won’t pay for someone and I can’t quit my job or we’ll lose what little the insurance does cover?”




“Well, the offer still stands, Miss Summers. I can take a semester off from school and take care of her while you work and travel for the gallery.”




“No, Willow. Buffy’s a handful. You’ve seen how she is coping with this.”




“I love her. I think I can handle it.”




“It out of the question, honey. You’re only nineteen and you have studies and a life to live. I’ll think of something.”




“What about Giles?” Willow pulled one of the stools away from the island and clasped her hands. “I know he offered to help.”




“He has a new business to maintain. If it folded, he would lose everything.” Joyce poured herself a cup of coffee and pulled a soda from the refrigerator for Willow. “I don’t know what to do.”




“Xander would do it if he and Anya weren’t together. You know how jealous she is of Buffy and how Xander used to feel about her.”




“I know. I wouldn’t allow him to put his life on hold either. You’ve all been such good friends for Buffy.” Joyce blew her coffee and took a small sip. “I’ll call some agencies and see if I can find some cheaper nurses. Until then, I’ll just have to take the time off. Maybe Hank will pitch in.”




“Why would he? He didn’t even come to see her. This is so awful.” Willow took a small drink of her soda and burst out crying. She glanced nervously toward the living room and stood, walking out the back door until she could collect herself.




Joyce walked into the living room and glanced at Buffy. She was sleeping peacefully on her back, one arm thrown aimlessly off the sofa and the other over her head. Asleep, she looked young and vibrant. It was only when she was awake that you could see how dead and vacant her eyes were. Her legs weren’t the only things taken from her, her will to live was gone as well. Joyce pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled the cover up over her.




There had to be an answer somewhere.









“Spike.” Giles bumped into the vampire when he walked into his house. “What are you doing in my house?”




“You didn’t uninvite me.” Spike said with a shrug, then flopped down on the sofa. “And there’s a movie on I’ve wanted to see for months.”




Giles glanced at his television and his eyes widened. “You ordered pay per view?”




“Is that what it’s called?”




“Did you pay for it?”




“No, you did.” Spike lifted a credit card off the table and held it over his head.




Giles snatched it and grabbed his wallet, shoving the card in one of the empty slots. “How did you find this? I only use this for emergencies.”




“This was an emergency.” Spike shrugged and lay back, stretching out like a content kitten. “Angelina Jolie gets bare assed naked in this movie. That’s an emergency.”




Giles shoved his wallet back into his pocket and stalked into the kitchen. He frowned when he yanked the refrigerator door open and several bags of blood fell out. “Spike, why is there blood all over the place?”




“It’s not all over the place, mate. It’s in your refrigerator. Put it back if that’s what I heard hit the floor. It doesn’t grow on trees you know.”




Giles hefted one of the bags and stomped back into the living room. He tossed it, smacking Spike on the side of the head. “You have a home now. Go there.”




Spike grabbed the blood bag and bit into it, ignoring the sounds of disgust that came from Giles. He drained it, fired off a belch and glanced up at the man. “I can’t.”




“Why not?”




“These vampires I knew way back when have taken to stalking me. They go into my crypt and break things, rough me up and threaten me, then they rough me up some more.”




“Why don’t they just kill you?”




Spike’s eyes widened. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? They’re keeping me alive because they have this crazy notion that I would make a great gopher. They plan on beating me into being their minion and to hell with that!”




“And why don’t you fight back?” Giles perched on the arm of his recliner and scratched the side of his face. “You can defend yourself against demons.”




“I can’t, okay?” Spike motioned him away and looked at the television again. “Now leave me alone.”




“Why can’t you fight back, Spike?”




“Because if I do, then I’ll be on every demon’s hit list that comes to this town. These vampires are connected. They have their finger in everything.”




“So what are you going to do?”




Spike shrugged, then hollered at the television when the dark haired Angelina Jolie graced the screen. “I’m thinking I’ll stay here. At least until this mess blows over and they find someone new to pick on.”




“Oh, christ!” Giles went back into the kitchen and fumbled around for an icepack. His head was already aching from all the hammering he had done that day. Spike being there was just enough to add insult to injury.




“Hey, Giles?”




“What, Spike?”




“How’s the Slayer doing?”




“Why do you ask?”




“I’m just curious.” Spike replied, muting the television with the remote. “Word on the street is, she got it pretty bad.”




Giles came into the living room and dropped into his chair, placing the icepack over his eyes. “Word on the street is right. She’s in a wheelchair.”




“Broken legs?” The blond asked, studying the man intently.




“You could say that.” Giles lifted his head and glanced at the television when a woman shrieked loudly. “She’s in the chair indefinitely because some vampires injured her spine severely. They don’t know if she’ll walk again.”




“Bloody hell!” Spike shook his head and picked at his torn jeans. “She’s paralyzed?”




“Yes.”




“Forever?” He glanced up at Giles.




“We don’t know.” Giles moved the icepack and glared at Spike. “Why? Do you want to laugh now?”




“The vampires who did it to her are the ones after me too. They were bragging about it to me. They didn’t know they had paralyzed her, but they knew she was hurt. If the Scooby Gang hadn’t shown up when they did, they were going to turn her.”




Giles swore softly and put the icepack back over his eyes. “She’s not handling it well.”




“I didn’t either when I was crippled.” Spike grinned when a woman on the television was brutally shot and killed. “I wanted to take it out on everyone. I wanted to cripple everyone and make them all feel what I felt. No one knows what it’s like to be confined to a wheelchair until it happens to them. You’re mad and you’re pathetic and you can’t help it.”




Giles listened carefully to every word the vampire was saying. Spike had been crippled for months. He had been exactly where Buffy was emotionally and was describing everything the Slayer must be feeling. An idea began to form in the back of his mind. The vampire needed a place to stay. Somewhere safe and private, where the other demons would not find him. Joyce needed someone to look after Buffy when she was working or had to go out of town for her gallery. Spike was harmless, unable to bite anyone and unable to hit anyone. It had potential.




It had the possibility of Buffy staking the annoying vampire. She could still use her hands, after all.




“Spike, I have a proposition for you.” Giles leaned forward and put his icepack on the coffee table.




“Look, I know that this movie is dead sexy and stuff, but I’m not that kind of man. Thanks anyway. I’m flattered.”




“Not that kind of proposition, you stupid blighter.” Giles reached toward the television and flipped it off. “Another one. I think we may be able to help one another out.”








“Absolutely not!” Buffy shouted, rolling her wheelchair around the couch and toward the kitchen. “I would rather die!”




Joyce glanced at Giles, then followed Buffy through the house. “It’s only for a few hours a day. Spike will stay in the basement and only come out to make sure you’re comfortable and have breakfast and lunch. I’ll take care of everything else, honey.”




“No!” Buffy bumped the island in the middle of the floor, bounced back, and found herself stuck between the stove and the sink. She swore loudly, yanked her wheels back and almost flipped, causing Giles to jump forward and grab her. “I don’t need your help!” She cried, grabbing a glass from the dish drainer. She rolled to the sink, locked her wheels and leaned forward, struggling to fill her glass.




Giles watched her for a few painful seconds and moved forward again. He was pushed aside by Spike, who had been listening from the doorway of the basement. The vampire unlocked Buffy’s wheels, rolled her away and snatched the glass, filling it with cool water. He held it out, waiting patiently for her to take it.




Buffy smiled gratefully at the blond, took the glass, then threw it at him, hitting him square in the chest with it. Spike caught the plastic glass before it could hit the floor. He filled it under the tap, smiled down at her and did the same to her, soaking her t-shirt. Astonished, Buffy could only stare down at her soaked body.




Spike filled the glass again and sat it on the countertop. “If you get thirsty enough, there it is. If you throw this out, you can just suck on your shirt to keep from dehydrating.” He turned to look at Joyce and nodded at her. “The basement is fine, Joyce. Thank you for the fresh linens and the refrigerator.” He turned his gaze back to Buffy. “I think this is going to work out just fine.”




Buffy watched him walk out of the room and down the stairs and shook her head. “You can’t leave me with him! He’ll kill me!”




“He can’t harm the living, Buffy.” Giles replied, trying to give her a hand towel to dry her face with.




Snatching the towel, she threw it on the floor. “You think that stops him from striking a match and setting the house on fire?”




“He needs a place to live as much as you need someone to look after you.” Joyce told her, picking up the towel and wiping at her daughter’s face.




“I don’t need anyone!” Buffy cried, wheeling backwards and successfully maneuvering around the island. “You saw what he did to me! He’s only here to make fun of me!”




“He’s staying.” Joyce replied, using the ‘mother-tone’ that she had not used since Buffy was injured. “And I won’t hear another word about it. Do you understand?”




“Fine.” Buffy spoke through clenched teeth. “But whatever he does to me is on your conscience, Mother!”




Giles could only shake his head as she rolled out of the room. A few minutes later, he heard the television come on and he moved to lay a hand on Joyce’s arm. “Perhaps you should explain the financial situation to her. Perhaps if she knew, she would be more cooperative.”




“She knows. I told her everything.” Joyce sat at the table and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. "If it’s possible, I think it made her hate me more. For failing to keep her safe, for failing to provide what she needs, for failing to keep her family together.”




“She doesn’t hate you.” Giles poured two cups of coffee and sat one in front of her before he pulled out a chair. “Buffy has always been self sufficient, Joyce. She has been stripped of who she was and what she was capable of. Imagine that. Imagine how hard it must be to go from being stronger than five men, to being as needy as a newborn.”




Spike poked his head out of the basement suddenly. “Whoa, newborn? Is she wearing those adult diapers? I don’t change diapers.”




“No.” Joyce motioned for Spike to join them. As soon as the vampire was seated, she spoke again. “Buffy isn’t completely helpless or reliant on others. She can still use the restroom, but you’ll have to wait outside in case she falls. I had rails installed and she’s got great upper body strength, so she can get around in there and take care of her business.”





“Oh. Good, cause I’d hate to have to quit on the first day.”




“You should get fired after what you did!” Giles snapped, then lowered his voice. “I better not hear that you are being mean to her.”




The vampire pointed at the front of his soaked shirt. “Hey, if she can still dish it, she can still take it. I don’t plan on letting her run over me. If I don’t make that clear right off the bat, she’ll won’t let me help her.” Spike glanced at Giles and then toward the living room. “Great upper body strength, huh? Have you made sure that it’s a stake free zone around here?”





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