A Loss of Pride by Mabel Marsters

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Chapter 15: Watching Over You

After Angel had left Spike used the bathroom and then went to bed, swapping his sweats for a pair of pyjama bottoms. He took the sleeping pills and got into bed. Just before he turned off the light he saw that he’d forgotten to close the door to the garden.

“Oh sod it,” he muttered.

The night was warm and so he left it as it was. Soon the pills took effect and he was soundly asleep.

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Angel tapped on the door to Buffy’s cabin and went in.

“How is he?” she asked as soon as she saw Angel.

“He’s all right, I think. He made me want to hit him at one point so he must be back to normal,” joked Angel.

Buffy stared at him - Angel smiling and joking. Had the world ceased to spin on its axis? She still couldn’t get used to seeing the lighter side of her normally sombre ex.

He told Buffy how Spike was getting on well with his physiotherapy but didn’t share his theory of him being more than a normal human; he needed to check things out first. He did mention that Spike took strong sleeping pills each night to ensure that he got some proper rest.

After he’d gone Buffy went for a walk through the grounds, as she had each night since she’d arrived. She couldn’t go far from her cabin in the day for fear of bumping into Spike and so she roamed about at night instead. She’d passed his room before but had only seen him as a vague shape in the bed. A nightlight that stayed on until dawn dimly illuminated the room. Without thinking of where she was going she found herself at the garden door to his room. She gasped when she saw the door was open, stepping back quickly. Was Spike still awake? She listened but heard nothing and none of the proper lights were on. He must have forgotten to close it.

She stepped through it and into his room, walking to his bedside as silently as she could. His face looked serene in the soft glow of the nightlight.

“Oh, Spike,” she whispered. He looked so beautiful lying there. His hair was showing its roots and was longer than she’d ever seen it. She could hardly resist running her fingers through it. She sat in the chair and just watched him sleep, unable to leave him. She leaned over and kissed him softly on his cheek. He shifted slightly and mumbled something that she didn’t hear. She stayed watching over him for a couple of hours. She held his hand or stroked his arm lightly, just needing to touch him. When she reluctantly decided to go, she had a look at the lock on the garden door and smiled - it wouldn’t be difficult to open if it were locked the next night. If she couldn’t be with him in the daytime, she would watch over him at night.

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Spike groaned as he woke up and realised that what he’d thought was real had just been a dream.

“Shit,” he said as he rubbed a hand over his face.

It had seemed so real. The dream had been so vivid he almost thought he could still smell her perfume. It had taken him back to the night in the run up to the battle with The First, when he’d found her in the deserted house and he’d held her whilst she was slept. It was the best night of his life - undead or otherwise.

He pressed the control on the bed and raised it until he was sitting up. Every day he willed his legs to move to the edge of the bed and every day they ignored him.

“Oh Christ, I can’t take this.”

Whenever he thought that he was going to be okay, that he could deal, something knocked him back. Sometimes just an unintentional wrong word or phrase from somebody but mostly a memory raised its head and reminded him of what he’d lost. He’d stopped having a sleep in the day even though his morning session of therapy usually left him exhausted, because his sleep was always riddled with dreams of Buffy. This was the first time she’d seeped into his drug-induced sleep though.

“Please God, don’t let it be every night.”

He moved his legs into position so he could get into his chair, not taking any satisfaction that his knees lifted off the bed a little to meet his hands. His thoughts were elsewhere. Once sitting in his wheelchair he was brought back to reality when he saw that his pyjamas were tenting. He put a hand down and chuckled a little hysterically as he felt his erection.

“So you’ve woken up then? A bloody dream of the one thing you’re never going to get again and you’re all ready and waiting,” he said, glaring at it.

He got into the shower and leant back against the wall, lifting his face so the water poured over it, washing away the tears that were falling as he dealt with his recently awakened old friend.

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Spike was quiet throughout his morning session of therapy. Brad knew something was bothering him but Spike was tricky to ask about how he was feeling so he didn’t say anything to begin with, just got him working hard.

Brad had Spike using weights so that he kept his upper body as strong as he could and then they worked on his legs. Each day Brad noticed more movement. Progress was slow but definite. It was like Spike had to learn how to use his legs again. Brad worked him through a range of exercises, bending his legs at all the joints. Unaided Spike could now lift his knees some six inches off the bed, but as yet he still couldn’t raise his feet or move them sideways. The more that he worked on him, the more that Brad thought that Spike might one day leave the chair he hated so much. He didn’t say this to Spike because he was already disheartened at how slow the improvements were. Finally at the end of the session Brad decided to bite the bullet and ask Spike what was wrong.

“You’re pretty quiet today, Spike. Are you in more pain than usual?”

Spike glanced up at Brad, “Didn’t sleep too well, that’s all,” he lied. “The pain is in my heart, not my legs.”

“That’s not good. I’ll have a word with the doctor and see what we can do to help.”

“Thanks,” said Spike quietly, “See you later then, yeah?” He heaved himself back into his chair and started to wheel himself away.

“Don’t be late, three pm sharp,” said Brad with a grin, regretting his words as he heard Spike’s muttered reply.

“I won’t. Not got anything else to do, have I?”

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That evening as he waited for Angel’s arrival, Spike hoped that he’d remembered the liquor. God, he needed a drink. He’d been unable to banish Buffy from his thoughts, daydreaming that she wanted him, no matter what, and then coming back to reality with a bang, knowing that she needed someone strong beside her. Her equal, not someone as needy as a child.

“Bollocks,” snarled Spike just as Angel walked in.

“What? I haven’t even said hello and you’re cussing me?”

Spike glanced up at him, “Sorry mate, bad day is all.”

“Why was it bad?” asked Angel, sitting down. He’d noticed how Spike hated looking up at him when he stood.

Spike shook his head, “Nothing, I’m just a bit knackered.”

“Fancy a drink then?” asked Angel with a grin, taking a silver hip flask out of his pocket.

Spike’s face lit up like a kid’s on Christmas Day, “That’d go down real well.”

“For God’s sake, don’t get so wasted that you fall off your bed or anything ‘cause they’ll ban me from coming if they knew I’d brought it.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Spike wheeled himself over and took the flask from him. He unscrewed the cap and lifted the flask to his nose, inhaling deeply before taking a swig. He closed his eyes as the liquor seared its way down.

“Mm…that’s good, Angel. Thanks.”

Angel waited until he’d had another couple of mouthfuls.

“Spike, about Buffy…”

Spike’s head whipped up and he glared at him, his blue eyes blazing.

“Don’t say anything, you promised,” Spike snapped.

“But…”

“I mean it. I’m not what she needs, I never really was and I won’t have her pity.”

“She l…”

“Angel!” roared Spike, “Just shut the fuck up!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

The two sat in an uncomfortable silence until Spike’s evening meds were brought in.

“Look, I’m knackered. I want to go to sleep now,” said Spike.

Angel nodded, knowing that he was really being made to leave because he’d mentioned Buffy.

“See you tomorrow, Spike.”

Spike nodded curtly, “’Night.”

Once he was settled in his bed Spike took the pills, washing them down with a swig of JD.

“Please stay away from my dreams tonight,” he muttered as he fell asleep.

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Buffy was distraught to hear that Spike wouldn’t even let Angel talk about her.

“He’s never going to see me, is he?” she said, close to tears.

“I’m sure he will eventually. In hindsight he wasn’t in a good frame of mind today. I shouldn’t have said anything. Look, why don’t you come back to the Hyperion for a few days. It’s not good for you to be holed up here. Perhaps Moira could broach the subject to Spike and call you when he wants to see you?”

“No, I’m not leaving here,” she said, knowing that as soon as Angel left that she’d go to sit with Spike again, “I know it’s stupid but at least I feel close to him here. I’m not lonely. I chat to Dawn all the time and email the others.”

“Okay, if you’re sure?” said Angel, hugging her before he left for home.

Buffy cautiously worked on the lock, smiling as she heard the click as it unlocked. She pushed the garden door open and went inside. She sat on a chair near the bed. It was all that she could do to stop herself from climbing on there with him and spooning her body against his. But she contented herself with gently stroking her hands over his bare torso, fingers tracing the scars left by the wounds inflicted by the Polgaras.

She left well before dawn, not wanting to risk being seen as she jogged across the lawns and back to her cabin.

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To Spike’s relief he hadn’t dreamed of Buffy or, if he had, he couldn’t remember it. He felt a little groggy due to mixing the liquor and sleeping pills but less depressed that the morning before. He got up, smiling when he saw that normal service had been resumed, at least in one department. He was pleased that it hadn’t just been the previous night’s dream that had got him going.

“If I was in a movie, a right cute nurse would walk in and give me a good bl…”

His thoughts were interrupted when in walked Carl after tapping on the door. Spike chuckled, “Not the nurse that I had in mind!”

“Morning, Spike. What’s the joke?”

“Nothing, mate. Just thinking about a film I saw once,” replied Spike still grinning, “What was the title? Confessions of a Nurse or something.”

Spike’s good mood lasted throughout the day. Brad was pleased that Spike was back to having a bit of banter while he was doing his exercises.

“Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?” asked Brad.

“Where?” said Spike, suspiciously.

“In the dining room, where else?”

“I’m not sure that I want to then. We could eat in my room?”

“Come on, Spike. It’s about time that you stopped skulking in your room.”

Spike shook his head, “No, mate, I don’t think so.”

“Oh for God’s sake, Spike, stop being so stubborn. It’s just one meal. It won’t hurt you just this once.”

“Why do you want me to eat with you so badly?” asked Spike.

“’Cause it’s my birthday and my girlfriend’s out of town. The chef’s promised me cake and I thought that you might like some too. And before you say it, it’s only available in the dining room. There’s no room service!”

Spike grinned at him. “Is it really your birthday?”

“Yeah, so are you up for it or are you chicken?”

“I’m no soddin’ chicken,” said Spike automatically, as Brad knew that he would.

“Great, I’ll see you there at eight then.” He laughed at Spike’s expression when he realised he’d been played.

“Bloody git, that cake had better be good.”

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Spike paused for a second outside of the dining room. He was deliberately ten minutes late to make sure that Brad would be there before him. He took a deep breath then raised his chin and rolled in, eyes scanning the table for Brad. He spotted him in one corner and pushed himself towards him, aware of the curious glances from the other patients as he did.

“You’re late. I thought you were going to stand me up,” joked Brad.

“Yeah, well, I had to do my hair, didn’t I?” replied Spike with a grin, rubbing a hand over his unruly two-tone curls, “I need to get it cut.”

Brad laughed and passed him the menu, “So what would you like?”

He was delighted that Spike had come. It wasn’t good for him to be stuck in that room all the time.

Spike surprised himself at how much he enjoyed eating with Brad instead of alone. The quiet background noises of the others talking helped him feel more relaxed than he probably had since being hurt. Brad told Spike that he’d asked Moira to call Angel and ask him to give tonight a miss as he usually appeared at about nine pm and it’d be in the middle of dinner. Spike was relieved that he wasn’t going to see him, afraid that he’d try to talk about Buffy again. His pills were waiting for him by his bedside when he got back to his room. He’d enjoyed his evening. Brad had told him about his family and girlfriend, not seeming to mind that Spike had told him little about himself in return.

He was soon fast asleep and unaware that, an hour or so later, he was once more being lovingly watched over by Buffy.

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