A Loss of Pride by Mabel Marsters

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 :: 11 :: 12 :: 13 :: 14 :: 15 :: 16 :: 17 :: 18 :: 19 :: 20 :: 21 :: 22 :: 23 :: 24 :: 25 :: 26 :: 27 :: 28 :: 29 :: 30 :: 31 :: 32 :: 33 :: 34 :: 35 :: 36 :: 37 :: 38 :: 39 :: 40 :: 41 :: 42 ::

Chapter 18: NO!

Buffy chatted to Angel for quite a while after he’d seen Spike. He agreed with Brad that Spike seemed a little low but felt that it was to be expected really, after such a set back. When Angel had left, Buffy put on her boots and made her way to Spike’s room. It was the best part of her day even though it was bittersweet, knowing that he still didn’t want to see her.

She crept into his room and sat as usual in the chair. She looked at his face; his eye where he’d hit it was still all shades of purple. She slipped her hand under his as it lay on the bed so that she could hold it gently. She was surprised that it felt a little clammy. She stood up and reached out to touch his forehead and that too was damp, but he didn’t feel hot. She was just wondering what to do when she spotted something on the bed. The dim light in the room showed a small pale-coloured object. She picked it up - it was a pill. How had he come to drop one?

Her breath caught in her throat and she froze.

“No, he wouldn’t…he doesn’t have the opportunity,” she thought, “Of course he could do it!” Another voice screamed inside her head. “He’s probably been saving them for days!”

“Oh my God.”

She fumbled for the bedside lamp, her fingers touching the notepaper he’d left there. She unfolded it.

“No!” she screamed when she saw the words written there.

“Spike!” She shook him. “Spike!”

His eyes fluttered and opened a little.

“Buffy?” His voice was low and slurred.

She shook him again, “What have you done?”

She slammed her hand on the buzzer to call for help. Spike’s eyes closed again.

“No! Stay with me, Spike. I can’t lose you again!” screamed Buffy, shaking him again.

“Tired…so…tired,” he mumbled.

“Shit, where is everybody?”

Buffy pressed the buzzer again, panicking. She couldn’t see him die; she couldn’t lose him, not again. She shook him again.

“Spike, please fight it, please stay with me.”

She was sobbing and stroking his face as a nurse ran into the room.

“Help him,” yelled Buffy before the woman had chance to speak, “I think he’s overdosed.”

If the nurse was shocked by the sight of Buffy being in Spike’s room in the middle of the night she didn’t show it. She swiftly went to the buzzer and pressed it three times in quick succession to signify an emergency. She then raised the top half of Spike’s bed.

“Has he been conscious?” she asked as she checked Spike’s pulse; it was there but only just.

“Not fully, but he recognised me. But then he…he…drifted off. Oh God, will he be okay?”

Before the nurse could reply a doctor ran into the room, closely followed by another nurse and Moira, who was in her bathrobe. Any emergency signal went through to her quarters, too. Her eyes widened when she saw Buffy but she stood back and let the doctor go to work.

“What have we got?” he asked the nurse.

“Overdose, we don’t know how many.” She told him the names of the drugs that he was given and the time of the last check by staff to give an indication of when he might have taken them.

The doctor gave instructions to the nurses; Spike needed his stomach pumped out and fast. The bed was on wheels and the nurses quickly pushed it out of the room and along the corridor to the treatment centre of Rosedene. Buffy stared after them as they left. She started to follow but Moira prevented her.

“No, Buffy, let them see to him.”

She put her arm around Buffy’s shoulder. She wanted to know what Buffy had been doing in Spike’s room in the middle of the night but now wasn’t the time to ask her.

“Will he be all right?” sobbed Buffy, clinging to Moira.

“I’m sure he will be,” soothed Moira with a confidence she didn’t feel. He was on some very strong drugs. “Let’s sit down for a moment.”

She guided Buffy to the couch.

“I need to see him,” said Buffy, looking at the door.

“They’ll come and tell us as soon as they can.”

“But…”

“Shh, Buffy, we need to stay here until they come for us, okay?”

Moira knew that Buffy was distraught enough. The sight of someone having his or her stomach pumped out wasn’t a pleasant one and so she was determined to protect her from it.

00000000

In the treatment room Spike had a tube inserted down to his stomach and a charcoal solution was pumped in. The end of the tube was then lowered and the contents were flushed out. The charcoal would help to absorb the toxins. About halfway through the procedure Spike came to, coughing and vomiting violently. The tube was swiftly removed and he continued to vomit until he had nothing more to void. He was helped to lay back and one of the nurses wiped him clean.

“Welcome back, Spike,” said the doctor.

Spike closed his eyes and groaned. “Why couldn’t someone just die when they wanted to?”

“It was lucky that you were found in time,” the doctor continued.

Spike didn’t bother to reply. He felt dreadful physically. His throat was sore from the tube and all the vomiting, but mentally he felt utterly defeated.

“Get some rest and I’ll talk to you some more later.”

“Gonna bloody lecture me no doubt,” thought Spike as he lay there half asleep.

“Keep a close eye on him. Any change in his stats, just come and get me. Keep plenty of fluids going in,” the doctor said to the nurse who would observe Spike for the remainder of the night, “I’ll go and let Moira know how he is.”

000000000

Buffy stood up as soon as the doctor walked in.

“Is he going to be all right?” she asked.

“Yes, physically he’ll pull through but we have to address the reasons behind his decision to try to commit suicide.”

“He’s not going to die?” whispered Buffy, sitting back down, her legs weak with relief.

Moira put her arms around her.

“I don’t think that he took being bedridden again after his fall very well,” said Moira, “But none of us picked up on just how depressed that he’d gotten. That’s a mistake we can’t make again.”

“Can I go and see him now please?” asked Buffy.

The doctor glanced at Moira. He knew that Spike hadn’t wanted to see Buffy and was puzzled as to why she’d been the one to find him.

“Buffy,” said Moira gently, “How long have you been coming in to see Spike?”

“Um…quite a few days now,” replied Buffy, “Ever since Angel told me that Spike took sleeping pills.”

“How did he react to seeing you? I thought you were going to wait until he asked to see you?”

“What? I always waited until he was asleep - he never knew that I was there. I’m sorry, I know that I said I wouldn’t try to see him but because he was asleep, I thought it was okay.”

“I’m pretty sure that you saved his life tonight,” said the doctor, “Another couple of hours and he would have been successful.”

“Oh God,” Buffy’s sobs were renewed as she realised just how close she’d come to losing him.

“Can she go and see him now, Charles?” Moira asked the doctor.

“Yes, she can sit with him. He’s not fully awake though yet.”

“Would you like me to come with you?” Moira asked Buffy.

Buffy nodded, suddenly afraid to see him. What if she made things even worse when he saw her?

Moira thanked Charles and then walked with Buffy to the treatment room. She stopped at the door as Buffy walked with stiff legs to Spike’s bedside. Buffy thought that he looked more dead now than he ever had as a vampire and technically dead. There was a line running from a bag of fluid into a catheter in a vein on the back of his right hand. A bank of monitors showing his vital signs beeped in the background. She sat in a chair at the left hand side of the bed and took his hand and was surprised to feel him squeeze it.

“Spike?”

He opened his eyes and gazed at her for a moment before speaking.

“I’m sorry.”

Submit a Review!