A Loss of Pride by Mabel Marsters

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Chapter 19: Turning Point

Buffy sat with Spike as he drifted in and out of sleep or consciousness, she wasn’t sure which. He hadn’t spoken or opened his eyes again. The nurse checked him periodically, changing the bag on the drip when it was empty and seeing what his vital signs were, before returning to her office at the front of the room. She turned the monitors’ volume low so that the room was almost silent. Buffy finally succumbed to sleep, leaning forward and resting her head on her arms, her hand still holding onto Spike’s.

Spike opened his eyes, squinting a little in the bright light. He felt like he had the mother of all hangovers. He groaned as he remembered what he’d tried to do. He’d never realised that dying took so much effort. He saw Buffy there, asleep, her beautiful face turned to his. He could see that her eyes were puffy from crying. He reached out with his right hand to stroke her hair but felt a tug and saw the line in the back of it and so he let it rest back down on the bed.

Buffy must have felt the movement because she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a pair of tortured blue eyes staring at her.

“Spike, oh thank God!” she cried, leaping up and enveloping him in a hug, “I was so worried.”

He froze for a second. He should push her away. He should make her forget abut him and move on. But then he closed his eyes and wrapped his left arm around her and crushed her to his chest. He’d screwed up dying twice and one thing was certain; he couldn’t live without her.

“Buffy.”

He buried his face in her neck and she felt his tears on her skin.

“It’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this. I promise.”

“I’m scared,” he whispered, his breath on her neck making her tingle.

“Of what?” said Buffy, pulling back and taking hold of his chin to make him look at her. “I love you and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. I don’t care if you say that you won’t see me. I just won’t go away again. I’ll take care of you.”

She saw more tears brimming in his eyes and knew that he still didn’t really believe her. She leaned closer and put her lips on his, kissing him gently at first and then hungrily. He responded eagerly for a moment and then broke contact.

“I can’t Buffy, I can’t,” he sobbed, tears falling.

“Why?” she asked gently, “Don’t you love me anymore? Is that it?”

“No, it’s just…you deserve more than…ow!”

His words were cut short as, without thinking, Buffy slapped him none to gently on the face.

“Don’t you dare say that, don’t you dare!” she snapped, “Don’t I get to decide what I want? Why can’t I be with the person I love? Why can’t you get it through your thick skull that I love you and want to be with you no matter what. I don’t care whether you walk or have wheels; I just need you, Spike. God, I need you so much.”

He stared at her, his hand on his stinging cheek. Whether it was the fact that she’d hit him, which he considered pretty normal behaviour, or whether it was her words, but he finally realised that she really did love him. He knew that he wouldn’t care if Buffy could walk or not, he’d cherish her just the same.

“Oh Christ, Buffy, I’m so sorry for what I’ve put you through.”

He reached out for her and she willingly fell into his arms. He pulled her up so that she was sitting on the bed with him.

“You’ve got some making up to do, that’s for sure.”

She felt him stiffen again. She looked up and saw his features were anguished as he thought how she might have found him dead. How could he have been so cruel? He remembered how he felt seeing Buffy’s body after she threw herself from Glory’s tower to save Dawn. How could he have even thought for a second of putting her through that? He felt ashamed.

Buffy correctly guessed what he was thinking and distracted him with a passionate kiss.

“Serious making up,” she whispered, “Not sure there’s enough hours in the day for the amount of kisses you owe me.”

“God, I don’t deserve you.”

“No, you really don’t if you keep on saying stuff like that. We deserve each other, we’re a team, two halves of one whole and all that baloney.”

He pushed her away.

“What now?” she said impatiently.

“Er…I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Do you want me to get somebody?”

Spike nodded. He looked distinctly green, not in the least because he realised that he’d been kissing the love of his life after throwing up his entire stomach contents. That thought alone made him feel even more nauseous.

Buffy went to the office where she knew the nurse who was on duty would be.

“Spike’s awake and he thinks that he’s going to vomit again.”

“Okay, I’d better hurry then,” said the nurse with a smile.

Buffy followed her but stayed back as she tended to Spike. He retched a few times but brought up nothing.

“Um…sorry,” mumbled Spike to Buffy afterwards as she sat back on the bed.

“Will you stop apologising already?” she said, “That’s so not you.”

“Oh,” said Spike, “Sor…” He stopped himself and they both laughed softly.

“That’s so good to hear,” said Buffy, “I thought I’d never hear that again.”

“Well, I’ll just have to try to make sure that you hear it a few more times then, eh pet?”

“Ooh, pet, I love it when you call me pet.”

“No you don’t,” said Spike.

“I’ve changed my mind,” said Buffy with a grin, “I do now.”

“Ah, someone is feeling better,” said Charles as he walked in.

Buffy slid off the bed guiltily and into the chair. Spike looked down, unable to meet the doctor’s eye. He felt sick with shame. He’d never been a quitter and all that he’d done lately was try to opt out of a difficult situation.

“So how are you feeling now?” Charles asked as he checked Spike over.

“Um…well like shit, to be honest,” replied Spike, still avoiding eye contact.

“That about par for the course, I’m afraid - a combination of the drugs that got into your blood stream and having your stomach pumped out. It’s never pleasant.”

“No, I didn’t mean like that, though I must say that I have felt better.” He looked up at the doctor and tried a weak smile. “What I meant was that I feel bad for doing something so stupid and putting you all to so much trouble.”

“It did make for a rather more entertaining night than I had planned,” replied Charles wryly.

“Um…well…thank you.”

“Do you mean that? Or are you saying what you want me to hear?” Do you wish that it had been successful?”

“No…I mean, yes I’m glad that I’m still here and no, I don’t wish that I was dead.” He glanced over at Buffy and held his hand out to her, smiling at her as she took it. “Not anymore.”

“That’s good to hear, Spike, but I’m afraid there’ll have to be a few changes. We can’t let that situation arise again.”

“What changes?” asked Spike, nervously gripping Buffy’s hand tightly.

“Your meds will be given by injection only. You’ll have to spend some time with our psychiatrist, and I’m going to arrange for a nurse to stay with you at all times. Our policy of allowing our patients privacy seems to have backfired with you.”

“Um…excuse me?” said Buffy quietly, “Would I do?”

“I’m sorry?” said Charles.

“Could I be the person to be with him or does it have to be someone medically trained? I can keep an eye on him, make sure that he’s okay.”

Spike and Buffy both looked up at the doctor hopefully. He stared at them for a second.

“That would be a good solution as long as you’re both certain that it’s what you want. You wouldn’t see Buffy up to now, Spike, so are you sure?”

He saw the looks that passed between the couple and knew the answer even before Spike spoke.

“I’ve never been more sure. She’s my reason for wanting to live and for wanting to get as well as I can.”

“Right then, that’s settled. You’ll have to remain on the drip for twenty four hours but I can see no reason why we can’t get you back to your own room shortly.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” said Spike.

“Just make sure that you keep that attitude going, okay?”

Spike nodded.

Buffy climbed back onto the bed when the doctor was out of sight and snuggled up to Spike. “I’m going to go and get my things from the cabin…”

“What cabin?” interrupted Spike, “And how come you kept sitting with me at night?”

“How did you know that?”

“Well, I stopped taking the sleeping pills and …”

“God, you knew I was there and heard what I said and you never let me know. You still tried to kill yourself?” Buffy got off the bed.

“Buffy…oh shite…look, I wasn’t thinking straight. Don’t let’s argue again, please? I need you, Buffy. I meant what I said; I can’t get through this without you. I love you and I know that you love me too. I’m not going to do anything stupid again,” said Spike earnestly.

Buffy sat back down on the bed, “You’d better not or I’ll kill you.” They both laughed when they realised what she’d said. “Anyway, I’ll go and get my things from the cabin. It’s one where families of patients stay with their kids.” She kissed his cheek tenderly, “I’ll see you soon.”

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By the time Spike and his bed were returned to his room, Buffy was waiting for him, having packed away her clothes in the little bedroom attached to his suite.

“Hey you,” she said softly when they were alone.

“Hey,” he said almost shyly.

“Feeling any better?”

“A little bit.” He smiled at her. “The doctors said that I can start to do a bit of therapy again tomorrow.”

Buffy was pleased to hear it as she knew that the fall and the loss of what little freedom he had weighed heavily on his mind.

“Can I join you on there?” asked Buffy, needing to keep touching him to make sure that this was real.

“Yeah,” said Spike.

He took his weight on his hands and shuffled his bottom across the bed to give her more room. Buffy felt that her heart would break when she saw him frown as he lifted his legs to the side with his hands. She was careful not to show it. She’d meant what she’d said. If he never improved at all she wouldn’t love him any less. But she was all too aware of how much Spike hated his broken body and knew that things weren’t going to be easy.

When he was settled, she hopped agilely onto the bed and snuggled up to him, then she got off again for a moment before getting back on underneath the covers and cuddling up to him once more.

“Can we have the bed so that it’s laying flat?” asked Buffy.

Spike nodded and did as she said. Once the bed was level Spike twisted his torso a little so that he could look at her. The injected drugs were keeping his back more or less pain free. He put his arms around her, being careful not to dislodge the drip in his right hand, and pulled her closer. They lay like that for a long time, just holding each other and not saying a word.

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They drifted off to sleep, their stressful night catching up on them both. Neither heard the tap on the door before Brad walked in. He stopped and smiled as he saw the pair of them entwined on the bed. Spike was on his back with Buffy’s head on his chest, his arms, even in sleep, wrapped tightly around her.

Brad tiptoed out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He knew how important family and loved ones were to someone’s recovery. He’d been horrified when he’d been informed of Spike’s attempted suicide and hoped that being reunited with Buffy would be the turning point that he needed.

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