Disclaimer- I own nothing of the Buffyverse. It all belongs to Joss and his army of writers. Although, if he wanted to give me Spike, I wouldn't complain.

Description- Set post Intervention. Read the damn story.

Chapter One: "You Need a Doctor."

Buffy paused at the door, turning her head to see him through the corner of her eye, "What you did for me and Dawn that was real. I won't forget it." That last glimpse of the thrashed vampire broke her heart. She didn't know why or when the vampire had made her go soft, but it was definitely something she hadn't expected to hit her so hard.

The thought that he had made a robot, precise to her, perplexed her. Buffy was stopped. Xander and Willow were standing in front of her, making it impossible to move any further.

"Are you okay, Buffy? We were worried." Xander said.

Buffy sighed and slumped her shoulders, "I'm fine, guys. I just need to ask you a favor."

Willow piped in, "We all figured that Spike would see through your act and you might be a lamb stepping into the lion's den."

"Yeah, Spike is still dangerous." Xander mumbled. "You can't trust him."

Buffy was appalled. "Xander, Spike can hardly stand. What makes you think he would be able to attack me, yet alone, defend himself if he did and I fought back?"

"Why are you defending the fiend that sold you and Dawn out?"

Buffy felt the little pang in her chest again, "He didn't say anything."

"He had to of told her. It's Spike, Buffy. Remember? He's evil. He doesn't have a soul. He doesn't care about what happens to any one of us. As long as his ass is safe from danger or have you forgotten?" Xander crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg.

That did it. "Damn it, Xander! Spike does care. He cares about all of us. How many times has he helped us when everything in him is saying he shouldn't? How many times has it been him saving our lives? Why can't you stand to have him help us, Xander? Just now I realized that I have been blind to how he's been treated. Not just by the Scoobies, but by me. He just went through the torture of a god. Something that would have done you in a thousand times over but Spike sat through it so that Dawn and I weren't hurt. He could have told Glory everything, down to our social security numbers, but he didn't." Buffy's eyes were brimmed with tears.

" Have we ever told him 'thank you' or that we were glad he had helped? Not once have we shown him respect or appreciation for all that he's done for us. Everything he's done has been to be appreciated, maybe even accepted. He just wants to be not hated! It's been hell for him and all of us have put him there. I think it's time that we show him some sort of respect and treat him with dignity, because, honestly, if it were you, how would you feel?" Buffy finally caved and let on small drop fall down her cheek.

Xander hadn't even looked at her since the beginning of her rant and he wasn't about to try. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about it."

She looked at the crypt entrance, "I need you to get a first aid kit and a blanket."

Both of her friends looked confused, "What?" Willow asked.

"I need to stay here and help him. He's hurt too badly to even sit up. Spike will need help." Buffy explained.

Xander was the first to object. Actually, he was the only. Willow agreed that the vampire would need help the next few days. "What? Are you kidding me, Buffy?"

She bit her lip. "No, Xander, I'm not kidding you. I have to stay here."

"Fine." Xander grimaced. He didn't like this idea at all. Buffy had a point about the way Spike's been treated for being on the team, but staying with the vampire for a few days was not in the logical column of his thoughts.

Willow nodded, "We'll bring it by in about twenty minutes. C'mon Xander, lets go." The red head grabbed her childhood friend by his sleeve and gave him the hint to follow her out of the cemetery.

He didn't look happy. She didn't blame him. Xander hated Spike with a blind passion. There was nothing about the man he liked.

"Thank you, Willow." Her friend smiled and turned away.

Buffy was alone now, outside of the vampire's crypt, deciding if she should go in now or wait for the pack. To hell with it, Buffy turned the knob on the door and stepped in. The mid-entrance to his crypt was disgusting. The inside, despite it's various odors and stains from God knows where, was actually decent or decent enough.

Spike was still in the same sitting position when she opened the second door. "Back so soon, luv?"

"Spike, I'm sorry."

"Buffy, look, you don't have to apologize. I did this myself." Spike coughed.

Tears were tugging at her eyes. "Why?"

Spike leaned his head back, wincing at he obvious pain he was feeling. "Thought I covered that, Slayer."

"You told me the reason you let Glory torture you. I want to know why you love me." Buffy felt like a total idiot for asking the question at this time, but it was the only way she would get it out of him while his defensiveness was gone.

Spike turned to look at her and frowned. "No."

"What?"

"I don't have to tell you anything about what I feel. You don't think it's 'real'. Just like the Whelp said, 'it's a fevered day dream that will never happen because I'm a soulless, disgusting thing.'" Spike whispered. The sound of hurt in voice was enough to make Buffy want to kill Xander.

"Did he tell you that?" Buffy asked. She was at an all time anger point.

"Doesn't matter, pet."

"Yes it does, Spike." There was a long pause. Oh, the joys of awkward silence. "I believe that you care about me."

Buffy couldn't tell if Spike was happy or in pain. His face went white and there was a blank expression. "Spike? Are you okay?"

"I…" He couldn't muster words. Buffy was beside him in seconds. Looking for anything that might be causing him any hurt.

"I think you should rest. I'm going to be staying here for a while and I think it would be best for you to let you super human healing powers do their job while your lights are out." Buffy touched his shoulder. He looked at her the best he could and smiled. With a nod, Spike started to lower himself to the sarcophagus.

He was struggling. "Let me." Buffy put her hand underneath his legs and the other on his back. She laid him down. Spike looked away. Buffy tried to see what he was looking at, and then realized that he was just ashamed to be so weak and vulnerable in front of her. "Now, rest."

Buffy sat at the other end of the cement slab and smiled when he fell instantly into a deep slumber. Spike looked like a corpse. Not just because he was beaten, he wasn't breathing.

Buffy had always remembered Spike breathing all the time. He did it from habit of course, but the Slayer was sure he didn't always. From what she was seeing, it would cause him pain to inflate his lungs. Especially with the broken ribs that gave his torso such shape.

God, his chest. The Buffybot had mentioned Spike being nude, but Buffy hadn't let anyone know that she had given it such deep thought. Spike's figure was a perfect Greek statue. His alabaster skin gave it such definition that it was almost unbearable to look at. How could such an annoying vampire be so perfect on the outside?

The Slayer had never once denied that Spike was attractive. As a matter of fact, she had always thought he was gorgeous. Even before the chip, back when he crashed through the window at Parent/Teacher Night.

Buffy snapped back to reality and was sure that she had gone insane. Why was I thinking about Spike's appearance?

It was a definite crush sign. No not crush, a crush is a one sided affair, this was coming from both ends. Buffy was shocked and in a way amused by the idea of her having fluffy feelings about her nemesis.

The door to his lair cracked open and Willow popped in. Her voice never rising about a whisper, "Buffy. I brought you what you wanted. Tell him that I hope he gets better." Buffy's heart warmed at the Wiccan's desire for him to get well.

She took all of the items out of the red head's hands and sat them on the sarcophagus next to her. "I'll definitely do that when he wakes up."

Willow grinned, "And if you need anything, help or even a break from playing mom, let me know. I'll be happy to oblige." On that note, Willow stepped out of the crypt and left the cemetery.

Buffy went back to looking at Spike. I wouldn't be easy for him to get medical treatment for his wounds with his clothes on. This would mean that she would have to wake him up and help him take his clothes off.

It sounded like a good idea, but was quickly shot down when the thought of him awake and in pain came into perspective. It would be smarter just to cut off his clothes with the scissors in the first aid kit while he was asleep.

With that on the to-do list, Buffy opened the kit and sighed. Grabbing the metal blades and placing them at the edge of the hem of his shirt, Buffy pressed them shut and the sharp slicing sounds filled the room, which was dead silent only moment before. The more of his skin that was revealed, the more her stomach turned.

The several cuts and bruises were enough to make her feel guilty. It wasn't that she didn't before, but it was a start to the self-flagellation that was to occur.

When she was done picking shards of glass out of his chest and bandaging the gaping wounds, Buffy was hesitant on cutting his pants off.

She found it embarrassing that she had actually used the 'I'm going to rip his clothes off" joke before in the secret girly conversations Willow and she used to have back in High School and even in the early days of college.

The fabric was difficult to cut. Denim wasn't what scissors were made to deconstruct. Buffy was shocked that Spike didn't have any underwear on. He had seemed like a briefs kind of guy.

When he was completely naked, Buffy took a short moment to take a peek. Not that peeking was the proper word, because he was exposed and nude, vulnerable to curious eyes…of the Slayer. She had been right about one thing. He did have the body of a Greek statue. All he needed was an olive crown and maple leaf to make her visual…visual.

Glory hadn't missed a spot on his body. There was evidence of her torturous acts everywhere. How did he keep himself from slipping? It seemed almost impossible to her. If it were her in the same situation, she would have caved or died. Neither the morally correct ending for a Slayer.

An hour later, he was all patched up. One of his eyes was able to open. The swelling had gone down considerably and he was curious to why he felt like he had no clothes on. The only thing on him was his pink blanket. He wasn't about to complain because, by God, those jeans are binding and the shirt was riddled with holes.

"Buffy?" He called. No one answered. Then, it hit him. Turning his head, which still felt like hell was throwing a party in his skull, he saw her, snuggled beside him with her face against his arm.