It had been several minutes since Buffy had given up struggling against the restraints. She lay still on the hospital bed with her eyes closed, breathing heavily. She was trying to get back to Sunnydale, back to her friends, to anywhere where she wasn’t chained to a hospital bed subdued by recent tranquilizer injections.

Buffy smiled as her struggles yielded signs of result. She could feel it. She was slipping back to Sunnydale.

The door opened and she jumped. It was like startling an artist as she painted; her brush slid across the page and her masterpiece was destroyed. She had been ripped away. Sunnydale was gone.

“No!” she shouted. Buffy started struggling in the restraints. “No! I have to get back! No!”

The door closed and two hands gently pressed down on her shoulders. “Buffy,” a familiar, deep voice spoke gently. “Buffy, you’re alright. Shh.”

“Spike,” she said happily, opening her eyes to see his concerned face. “Thank god, I thought I was alone. You’re…” Her eyes moved from his face to his clothes. “You’re dressed like an orderly.”

“That’s right,” he said, running his hands soothingly up and down her upper arms. “Were you trying to get back to Sunnydale again?”

She nodded sadly. “Something’s wrong, Spike. This isn’t real, we’ve got to…”

He shook his head. “Listen, I’ve told you to stop calling me that. It’s William here, remember? I can’t be Spike anymore.”

Buffy stared at him in horror. “No, Spike. Not you too.”

“I tried to live in your world, Buffy. I tried to make it seem bad to you so that you would come back here.”

Buffy shook her head. “No…”

“But I couldn’t,” he said miserably, turning his eyes away in shame. “If only,” he whispered, brushing the backs of his fingers gently across her cheek. “If only I hadn’t fallen in love with you. It wouldn't be so hard to watch you slip away.”

“Stop it, STOP IT!” She shouted. She attempted to lift herself off of the bed, causing Spike to pull his hand away. “You don’t love me. You can’t love me, you’re evil!”

“It’s too hard to think of me loving you, isn’t it?” he replied bitterly. “That would make this world look a little better to you, wouldn’t it? Don’t you remember those months when you were better? When you knew me?” he said softly, moving to touch her face again. Buffy grunted at him and he pulled back, looking at her with sad eyes. “I love you, Buffy. And I’ve heard you say it. I know you want to be with me. If you just…” As he searched for the words he gently placed both of his hands on either side of her face. She didn’t pull away this time, instead she closed her eyes and reveled in his touch. “If you could come back for real… then we could be together. We wouldn’t have to hide what we have from the doctors or your parents. Dr. Pryor has something that can help you. You have to let him help you.”

Buffy shook her head. “It hurts so much,” she squeaked miserably. She moved her arms weakly in the restraints. Spike looked down at her wrists and his expression switched from sadness to pity.

“Oh, baby,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry. They do it so you won’t hurt anybody. Especially yourself.”

“I won’t hurt you,” she promised. Tears fell from her eyes.

Spike smiled. “That’s what you said last month when I let you out. I had to get stitches, you know.” He pointed to his left eyebrow. "Good thing we're in a hospital."

“Please, I’m sorry. Just… please.”

His smile faded and his eyes watered. She could see that he was torn, that he was fighting what he wanted. “I can’t, love. Doctor’s orders.”

He pressed his lips against her temple. "Rest now, my love."

He turned to leave. He was two paces away from the door when she spoke feebly. “William, please don't go.”

He turned to her, his eyes wide and hopeful. He smiled widely as he moved to remove the straps from her wrists. Buffy sat up and rubbed the sore muscles as he removed the restraints from her ankles. Spike sat back down on the bed beside her and took her hands. “Oh my god,” he said as he examined her wrists. There were deep purple bruises and slight cuts where the straps had been. “They made them too tight again. Baby, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her towards him.

Buffy let him hold her. She looked at the room around her, still utterly confused. The wall was unfamiliar, the bed felt odd, unlike the one she knew at home. But Spike... he felt like home.

“This feels nice, doesn’t it?” He kissed the top of her head. “My beautiful girl.”

Buffy gasped as she felt it, thumping steadily against her. His heart was beating.

She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “You’re really here?”

“Yes,” he answered quietly with a slight nod. He slowly, almost timidly, dipped his head down and kissed her softly. She kissed him back, savoring his touch, his breath mixing with hers. His hands moved to her hips and slid beneath her top. “I love you,” he muttered against her lips. Buffy shuddered as his hands caressed the smooth skin at her waist. He was so gentle. The Spike she knew had never touched her like that.

The door flew open behind them. They both jumped in surprise and Spike pulled away, a loud smack echoing in the room as their lips separated.

“William!” Dr. Pryor cried in shock.

“Spike, what are you doing?” Xander shouted.

Buffy looked up and saw Xander and Willow enter her bedroom. Spike sat beside her on the bed, one of his hands still resting gently on her hip. He was no longer wearing scrubs, he was back in his leather coat and black jeans.

Buffy dropped her head to her chest and placed her hands on her temples. No no no no…

“What’s going on?” Joyce demanded more than asked.

Buffy looked up and saw her mother standing behind the doctor, her father close behind. They all looked angry.

“Dr. Pryor,” Spike said nervously. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh really?” said Xander, moving closer to Spike, who now stood beside Buffy's nightstand. “It looks to me like you’re trying to take advantage of Buffy when she’s sick and confused, you demented bastard!”

Xander swung his fist, but Spike ducked and avoided it. Xander swung again, missing and knocking Buffy's lamp to the floor with a crash. There was a yelp, and Dawn appeared.

“How long?” Dr. Pryor asked angrily as he slowly approached Spike.

“It’s not what you think…” Orderly Spike defended weakly. Buffy looked around her in confusion. She kept flashing between the asylum and her bedroom. “It’s getting worse…” she muttered, her hands still on her head. “It’s getting worse…”

The last thing she saw was Spike storming past Dawn before she blacked out.

* * * *

“Buffy, can you hear me?”

She opened her eyes. “Willow?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Willow smiled. She sat next to Buffy on her bed, a mug resting in her hand. “It’s OK, Spike’s gone now. Xander won’t let him near you again. We’re so sorry, someone should’ve been watching you.”

Buffy shook her head. “It’s OK.”

"Water?" Willow extended the cup in front of her. Buffy was afraid to drink it, though she didn't know why. Willow was her friend... wasn't she? “I can’t believe he’d do that," Willow continued. "I mean, I know Spike’s evil and is madly obsessed with you, and that's never a good combination, but… I never thought he’d use you like that.”

“Use me?” Buffy replied, still groggy and confused. Suddenly everything seemed clear. She was in Sunnydale, in her bedroom. That demon had stabbed her. “Right,” she said. New images came to her mind. Making love to Spike in the bottom of his crypt, telling him that it was over between them. He'd used her?

Willow placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder, her face distorted with concern. “Don’t worry, Buff. We won’t let it happen again. We’re going to find out what’s wrong with you so you can be normal again.”

“Right,” said Buffy as she realized nothing about either of the lives she was experiencing was normal. “Normal.”