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* * * *
Chapter Eight
Before Dawn
* * * *
“C’mon,” said Buffy, pulling at
Spike’s shoulders. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Spike followed her out of the box and shivered, drawing the blanket
closely around him as he stood. “How did I get here?”
“It’s a long story. I know you don’t know where you are, but do you know
who I am?” she asked hopefully.
Spike nodded. “Buffy.”
Buffy smiled with relief. He seemed to be the same, except for the fact
that he wasn’t a vampire. His hair was still bleached blond, and he
definitely didn’t look like he’d popped out of the nineteenth century.
Spike’s eyes darted all around the room as he looked at everyone, his eyes
settling on Angel. “What’s going on?”
“Um,” Buffy began softly, unsure of how she could explain what had
happened. Before she could even think of anything to say, Spike’s eyes
widened and his mouth fell open. He stumbled backwards and Buffy reached
out to still him, her own eyes wide with concern.
Spike was breathing heavily, which seemed to be the main source of his
surprise. He placed his hand over his heart and Buffy felt her own beating
rapidly in her chest as she watched him realize what he was. Seeing the
surprise in his ever-widening eyes as he felt his heart beating beneath
his palm was overwhelming. She just hoped he thought it was a good
surprise.
When Spike looked up Angel met his eyes and the two men stared at each
other. To Buffy it seemed as if they were having a silent conversation,
one the others could not hear. Angel was the first to look away, something
like shame apparent in his eyes. Spike’s eyes were round, the reality of
what had happened to him sinking in fully. He stumbled backwards again.
“Whoa!” said Buffy, grabbing him by the elbows and holding him steady.
“Easy, easy. C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”
Spike allowed her to lead him out of the mausoleum and the others
followed, except for Wesley and Fred. They stayed behind to clear the
place of any magical traces, and somehow they were going to move the box.
Where had Angel gotten that thing, anyway?
Spike kept his eyes to the ground, his shoulders shaking beneath her hands
like he was cold, so Buffy wrapped the blanket more firmly around his
shoulders. She was still having a hard time grasping the fact that he was
there, that Spike was really there, even though she was touching him.
Once they arrived at the street where Angel’s car was parked, everyone
stopped, at a loss as to what they were to do next. Everyone was watching
Spike like he was going to explode, but he didn’t seem to notice. Buffy
helped him into the back of Angel’s car and sat beside him. Having played
the role of the leader for the past few weeks, or hell, the past seven
years, it felt strange not to be laying out a game plan or telling
everyone what they should do. But she wasn’t going to leave Spike’s side,
not if she could help it. It wasn’t just that she loved him and wanted to
be there for him that kept her close, it was also the fact that Buffy knew
all to well what it was like to come back from the dead. Besides, after
what had happened over the past few days, they were in this together.
Angel was talking quietly to the others. He said something and they all
nodded, and Xander and Giles followed him to the car while the rest walked
back in the direction of the hotel. Buffy met Willow’s eyes as she walked
away and silently asked her to check on Dawn for her. Willow smiled.
Angel, Xander and Giles sat in the front seat of the car. Apparently all
the men in her life were feeling overly protective of her now that Spike
was back, since they insisted on coming with her and Spike to Wolfram &
Hart. Angel had mentioned earlier that there was a medical facility in the
building where the doctors wouldn’t ask too many questions. Those had been
his exact words, but Buffy knew that there was more to it than that. She
didn’t care where they were going, though, as long as they made sure that
Spike was okay.
Angel started the car and Buffy reached across Spike, pulling on his
seatbelt. No sooner did the buckle lock into place than he spoke.
“Where are my clothes?”
* * * *
The security officers in the lobby gave Spike odd looks as they passed on
their way to the elevators. Angel waved at them as they moved forward, and
they fell back. Buffy didn’t ask, but Giles was more curious as to why
everyone seemed to be following Angel’s orders. Buffy stood with Spike in
the back of the elevator, her arms still wrapped around him. Xander stood
beside her and ignored the quiet conversation Giles and Angel were having,
but he’d caught Spike’s notice. Spike raised his head and looked at
Xander.
“You lost your eye,” he told him, as if Xander wasn’t aware that his left
eye was missing.
Xander looked at Buffy uncertainly. Five days ago Xander would’ve replied
with some sort of smart alec comment, but there was something about dying
to save the world and being brought back to life that earned you a certain
amount of respect. Xander merely nodded. “Yeah, that I did.”
“Must’ve hurt,” Spike mused, his eyes falling back to his feet. He was
silent for the rest of the elevator ride, which seemed unusually long.
Once they’d reached their floor Spike was ushered into a room where there
were doctors ready, hooking him up to machines and checking his blood
pressure. Spike allowed them poke and prod him, all the while staring at
the foot of his bed, lost in thought. Buffy wanted desperately to know
what was going on in his head, but she remained in the doorway and let the
doctors do their work. A nurse brushed past and gave her a look of
annoyance, but no one asked her to leave. Buffy wouldn’t if she had. The
nurse produced a needle and proceeded to take a sample of Spike’s blood,
and when he saw what she was doing he instantly tensed up.
“It’s okay,” the nurse told him kindly, removing the needle and placing a
cotton swab over the drop of blood that was forming in the crook of his
arm. Spike’s eyes were locked on that vial of blood, following it around
the room until the nurse had taken it with her out the door. One of the
doctors turned on the heart monitor and the room was filled with the sound
of a steady, although somewhat fast-paced, beeping. Spike stared at the
machine.
“Okay, I think we’re done here for now,” said one of the doctors. He
didn’t acknowledge Buffy as he and the others walked out the doorway. She
heard him speaking to Angel outside the door.
“His vitals are normal. He appears to be perfectly healthy, but we won’t
know for sure until we get the results back from the blood tests. I think
he should stay here until we know more.”
“How long will that be?” Angel asked.
“A couple of hours. If everything’s fine then we’ll go ahead with the
standard inoculations. He might be out of here before dawn.”
Buffy closed the door and the doctor’s voice faded away. It was just her
and Spike in the room now. She moved to the edge of his bed and looked
down at him.
It was funny how he looked exactly the same. For some reason she thought
he’d look different, maybe have the word “human” tattooed onto his
forehead. His eyes were still on his feet.
“Spike?” she said gently. When he didn’t respond, she pulled up a chair
and sat beside the edge of his bed. “You can hear me, right?”
“I’m not deaf,” he said, though not angrily.
“Good,” she said with a nervous smile. “Can you tell me what you
remember?”
He knew who she was, but she wasn’t sure if he remembered what had
happened to him, before or after his death. Spike turned to her slowly.
“I’d rather not. I’m kind of tired.” He stared down at the blue hospital
gown he was wearing, a look of bewilderment crossing his features.
Buffy nodded. “Okay,” she said, trying to keep any sign of disappointment
from her voice. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”
As she stood he reached out and grabbed her hand. “You’ll come back?”
Buffy looked down at their linked hands. “Of course,” she replied. He
released her hand. “I’ll be here.”
Their eyes didn’t leave each other until she was on the other side of the
door. Buffy raised her eyes to the ceiling, feeling tears welling up
behind them.
Fuck. That seemed to sum up the whole situation.
* * * *
“Coffee?”
Buffy stared at the steaming Styrofoam cup Angel held out before her as if
it were something foreign to this world. She shook her head. “No thanks.”
Angel sat beside her in one of the chairs lining the hallway, sighing
deeply as he did so. “Dr. Demerath said they couldn’t find anything wrong
with him. They’re going to give him some vaccinations, for tuberculosis
and other things. He says they’re the shots people usually get when
they’re kids.”
Angel stared down at the cup of coffee he was holding in his hands,
contemplating his next words. Buffy could tell how uneasy this whole
situation made him, not only because of how it affected her, but also
because Spike now had something Angel didn’t, something she felt that
Angel deserved. “What are you going to do with him?” he asked.
Buffy blinked in surprise. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m going
to do.”
“Giles mentioned something about going to Europe?”
“Yeah. There are a lot of girls out there who won’t understand what’s
happened to them. We have to find them; tell them what they are.”
“So I guess you’re almost like a normal girl.”
Buffy gave him a sideways glance.
“Well, I mean, you’re not special anymore, are you? I mean, no, that’s not
what I meant. You’re special, it’s just…”
She smiled, putting an end to his embarrassment. “I know what you meant.”
“I’m happy for you.”
Buffy merely maintained her smile, grateful that someone was having
positive feelings about her life. “What about you?” she asked.
Angel’s countenance darkened and he looked at the floor. “I’ve got this
place.”
“Ah, I figured. New base of operations?”
“Yep.” Angel squirmed in his seat and they sat in an awkward silence
before he rose. “There’s some business I’ve got to tend to. The doctors
should tell you when Spike’s ready to be released.”
Buffy watched him walk down the corridor, but if she wasn’t mistaken she
saw him enter another patient’s room. Buffy sighed and stood from her
chair and made her way towards Spike’s room.
She opened the door to find the lights off and Spike asleep. She closed it
quietly behind her and walked over to the side of his bed, sitting in the
chair she’d vacated hours earlier. Buffy took his hand in hers and noticed
the hospital band around his wrist, except unlike other hospital bands,
his had a number on it instead of a patient’s name. She chuckled, thinking
of the line reading “Patient’s name: Spike.” Buffy wondered what his real
name was. She could ask him, now that he was back. There were so many
things she could ask him now, so many things she could tell him that she
was never brave enough to say before.
Spike’s hand tightened around hers and she looked up to see him watching
her.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” she replied, kicking herself. Minnie Mouse’s voice wasn’t that
squeaky. “How are you feeling?” she asked in a more Buffy-sounding voice.
“Like a pincushion,” he replied.
Buffy smiled. “Well, the doctor’s going to be back in here to give you
some shots, so you might have to get used to that feeling.”
Spike moaned. Buffy couldn’t help that her smile broadened. She was
familiar with whiny Spike. Her smile faded once she realized that they
needed to discuss what had happened to him. She wrapped her fingers more
firmly around his hand.
“What do you remember?”
He closed his eyes. “Dying.”
Buffy bowed her head. She wished he could somehow forget that memory. “And
after that?”
“You.” He must’ve noticed her face turn white, for he explained further.
“Back in that… place. In the box.”
“Oh,” she sighed with relief. “You don’t remember anything in between?”
Spike shook his head. “No.”
Tears fell from Buffy’s eyes and she smiled. “Good. You were, um, you
weren’t in a good place. That’s why we brought you back.”
“How long was I gone?” he asked, looking her up and down in alarm. “You
don’t look very different.”
“What? Oh! No, it’s only been a few days.”
“How many?”
“Four,” she replied, her other hand joining around his. His fingers curled
into hers and she felt him relax. “Four really, really long days.”
An odd smile appeared on Spike’s face before he spoke. “Add about a
hundred to that and then tell me how hard it is.”
Buffy laughed tearfully. “God, we suck.”
Spike pulled his hand from under hers and reached up to move a lock of
hair from her face. “We?”
Buffy leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder, exhaling deeply.
Spike froze in surprise momentarily before wrapping his arm around her.
She leaned into him. “You’re going to be okay,” she assured him, although
it was more like she was speaking to herself.
“I think I will.”
Buffy frowned. “You smell funny.”
Spike chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what I want to hear.”
“No, not bad funny, just different.” She felt her heart swell with
hope and before she knew it, the words were falling from her lips. “I love
you.”
Buffy felt him tense up and almost expected his heart to stop. She moved
her head so that it was resting on his chest and she could hear his heart
thumping in her ear. Spike finally wrapped his other arm around her and
kissed the top of her head. “I guess you do.”
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