Ten: AFTERSHOCK
"Shock is a serious condition most often brought about by major injury or fear. It can easily be overlooked, but if left uncared for, a victim of shock may develop serious problems."
-- from the Staying Alive Website (library.thinkquest.org) D. Roman, F. Brahic, P. Roman.
------- o -------
Xander set Spike down on the grass at the edge of the cemetery. After removing his own coat and placing it over the pale man's body, he turned to check on the two Summers girls: Dawn was struggling to keep her sister moving through the darkness.
His mind travelled back to another time when he'd seen Buffy in a similarly state of comatose, after Glory had stolen the younger girl away, intent on killing her. "Willow," Xander cried almost silently, "I wish you were here. I don't know what to do." On that awful night, almost a year and a half before, they feared they'd lost Buffy to her own mind but Willow took charge, made a plan and gave the orders. Willow brought Buffy back. Willow had always been the strong one. Willow could always bring Buffy back, if only she were there now.
Xander knew he had to do something. Reaching down into the pocket of his jacket, he pulled out his cell phone. Taking a deep breath to strengthen his resolve, he dialled the only number he could think of at that moment. With a sense of dread, he waited.
"Hello?" a groggy voice answered.
"Anya..." he said apprehensively. "I need your help."
"Xander?! It's the middle of the night. What do you want?" asked the now frustrated voice.
"It's Buffy... and Spike." His chest ached as he begged his former love to help him rescue the man with whom he'd watched --- in horror --- her have sex, months ago; the man who at that time, he'd wanted dead.
"I'm doing this for them, Xander Harris," the woman cautioned, then in a gentler tone she added, "I'll be there in a few minutes."
Xander sighed in relief and moved to replace his phone.
"Harris..." the ragged voice caught his attention.
"Spike." Meeting the man's pale face, he muttered, "I can't believe I'm saying this but, thank God you're alright."
"Don't know as I'd go that far, mate," Spike spoke weakly but with a slight smile. "But I will be." He paused, taking an agonized breath. "Buffy?"
"She's alive, Spike. Dawn's coming with her now." He hesitated, unsure what to tell the frail man beneath him. "I think she's in shock."
Clear blue eyes looked at him, concerned and questioning.
"Like when Glory took Dawn," Xander added grimly.
Spike closed his eyes and in the glow of the streetlight, a tear glistened down the side of his face.
"Everything's going to be OK," Xander tried to comfort. "Anya's bringing the car. We'll get you both looked after."
------- o -------
After Anya arrived, she pulled blankets from the trunk of her car. Dawn unbuttoned her sister's snug leather jacket to ease her breathing as Anya wrapped a blanket around Buffy's tiny solemn figure.
Xander tossed his jacket aside. Raising Spike slightly, he slid a blanket behind the weakened man's back then wrapped it around his bare ivory chest. "Awn?" As he lifted Spike's lethargic form, Xander nodded to the car. "Could you give me a hand here?"
Anya opened the rear passenger door then went around to the driver's side and helped Xander settle Spike in across the back seat.
"Dawn," he called. "I'll look after Buffy. Could you climb in here with Spike?" Xander paused as he waited for Dawn. "If you can manage, could you sit there and put his feet up on your lap. We really should try to elevate his feet, I think..."
Anya took the wheel as Xander returned to the car with Buffy in his arms.
"Where should we go now?" Anya asked before starting the engine. "The hospital? He doesn't look very well...still ruggedly handsome but-"
"Awn," said Xander with an I-don't-want-hear-this tone at the same time a weary voice piped up from the backseat.
"Appreciate the compliment, pet."
"Spike!" Dawn squealed.
"Yeah, Nibblet. I'm fine. Just a bit tired is all. If it's all the same with you lot, I just as soon take Buffy home," he instructed as he struggled to sit up.
"Spike, just stay down!" Xander ordered sternly, then eased back, "at least until we get to the house."
Feeling dizzy, Spike complied without further argument.
------- o -------
Xander carried Buffy up to her room as Dawn and Anya helped Spike into the house.
Once inside, Spike shook the women off and made his way up the stairs gripping tightly to the railing. "I'll take it from here." He glared at Xander, who was standing over Buffy's reclined frame. Give the man a break, you ponce. He just saved your life! When Xander moved to leave the room, Spike put one hand on his arm then outstretched the other. "Thanks, Xander," he said.
Taking the offered hand, Xander shook it and replied, "What can I say? It's Buffy." Giving a sad smile with knitted brows, Xander sighed and closed the door behind him.
------- o -------
Spike stalked cautiously to where Buffy lay on her bed. "It's alright, luv. Lemme take care of you." Gently, he sat her up and removed her jacket, tossing it to the trunk at the foot of the bed. "Now that's better, isn't it?"
Going to her dresser, he began to rummage through the drawers for something loose and comfortable for her to wear. Hmm... what have we here? He couldn't help but grin when he found a black men's t-shirt in his size and preferred brand. Pulling it from the drawer, he returned to Buffy.
She continued to stare, straight ahead, with a look that could have been described as 'emotionless' but which Spike saw as 'frightened'.
This isn't about sex, he had to remind himself as he undressed Buffy's delicate form. He began by unbuttoning her white cotton blouse, setting it next to her, then followed with her lacy bra, taking a deep breath and looking away as he removed it --- in an attempt to keep his arousal in check. He eased the T-shirt over her head then guided each arm through the sleeves. "That's my girl." Finding the zipper of her leather pants, he lay her down as he unfastened and slid the skins from her toned silky legs.
He pulled back the duvet from the opposite side of the bed then, with unmatched care, he scooped up the frail wide-eyed creature he loved so deeply. After settling her down, he tucked the duvet upon her. As he sat down next to her, he ran his open palm gently over the length of her face encouraging Buffy to close her eyes. Looking at her, he fought back tears, imagining how she must be suffering inside.
The painful quiet was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.
Stealthily, Spike moved to open it a crack.
"Spike... I brought you something to help get your strength back," said Dawn nervously, holding a tray of cheese, crackers, a mug of soup and glass of tomato juice.
"Thanks. That was right thoughtful of you."
"Actually... ah... it was Xander's idea," she corrected sheepishly.
Getting awfully hard to dislike the whelp.
"How's Buffy?"
"She's resting," Spike said as he opened the door wide enough for Dawn to see Buffy asleep in bed. "Let's give her tonight, shall we? Hopefully sleep's all she needs."
"You'll stay with her, won't you Spike?" his 'Little Bit' pleaded. "She shouldn't be alone now. She'd want you there with her, I just know she would."
"I'll look after her," he assured, raising a hand to his young friend's quivering chin, "just like I used to take care o' you, lamb."
Dawn smiled, handed him the tray and pulled the door closed behind her, leaving Buffy alone in the care of the man who, Dawn had accepted long before her sister, loved her more than anything even his own (un)life.