Title: A Passing Shadow: Book I: Deep Down Dark: Chapter 4
Author: VicNoir
Rating: R
Disclaimers, etc.: please see previous chapters.
I won't lie to you-the first week was hard. Having him around, especially in the condition he was in, made me seriously jumpy.
We were surrounded by helpers. Giles came in twice a day to change the bandages. I refused to watch after the first time. He said Spike was healing fast, but I didn't want to see his face uncovered until there were actual, real eyes there, in the places they used to be. As for the other injuries, I didn't ask, but I assumed they were mending.
Willow worked a healing spell, figuring it couldn't hurt, and whipped up treats like blood-soaked Weetabix and hot chocolate like my mom used to make.
Tara came and read to him every day-mostly stuff out of that book of poetry she'd found in the crypt.
Even Xander and Anya stopped over a few times. Xander was uncomfortable around Spike. I could tell by the way he didn't insult him. Didn't stop Spike from riding Xander, though. In fact, I think Xander's being nice to him just pissed him off.
Dawn spent a lot of time with him. They sat in front of the TV together with the volume turned up loud, and she described the action for him. She was also the one who washed the dried blood out of his hair, and gelled and combed it for him He saved his best smiles for her.
For me, there were no smiles. Especially after he asked for his coat, and I had to tell him it was missing.
"Missin'? How could it be missin'? Did you let someone nick it, then?"
"We didn't LET anything happen to it. It wasn't in the crypt. We looked."
"Look again, Slayer. It's got to be there." No 'please', no 'if it's not too much trouble'.
On my way out the door he hollered after me. "Don't come back without it, Slayer."
I stood in the middle of the crypt for a long time, just staring. She'd been back. Everything that Spike owned-TV, furniture, fridge, bedding, spare clothes, books, CD player and discs, all of it-had been destroyed. This bitch was on a mission. Looked like she used her bare hands and fangs on most of it. Made me big with the gladness that Spike hadn't still been laying there on the floor when she showed up for round two.
And no duster. Not even any shredded leather. It was gone, and I knew where. Or at least who. Maybe I'd have to track her, after all. Just to get the coat back, of course.
When I came back without it, he wouldn't speak to me. I didn't tell him about his stuff, or where I thought the duster had gone.
That also happened to be the day we decided to get him off the sofa and into the bathtub. He'd been wearing a pair of Xander's old sweats for five days at that point, and the living room was beginning to smell kinda funky.
Giles had gotten rid of the bandages on his lower half. The wounds were fully closed and even the scars were fading. But I could tell by the stiff way he moved when we helped him up the stairs that he was sore, and probably nervous, too.
I'd laid everything out for him-washcloth, soap, towels. I explained in detail the layout of the bathroom and where everything was. He listened with this really intense frown on his face, as if he were trying to picture it in his head. Then I went in ahead of him and turned on the water. Dawn led him in and left him there. I reminded him how important it was to keep the water away from the dressings on his face, and then I left, too.
Well, that isn't completely true. I waited outside in the hallway, with the door open just a crack. I mean, I couldn't just leave him there. What if he slipped and fell?
I listened to the splashy sound of him settling himself in the water. Then I looked in, just for a second.
Wow. Skirt-girl was right. And that's all I'm gonna say about that, at least for now.
Afterwards, when he was back on the sofa in clean sweats and a t-shirt, he turned to me. I'm assuming he knew Dawn wasn't in the room at that point.
"See anything you fancied, Slayer?"
I should have known he could hear me, or smell me, or whatever. Funny, it didn't really bother me. Maybe 'cause I couldn't see his eyes, dancing and laughing at me. Maybe for some other reason, but I was SO not going there.
It was only a few days later that Giles announced it: Spike's eyes were restored. At least, the physical fact of them. He was still blind. Apparently, the whole nerve damage thing was an issue.
Everybody gathered for the unveiling. I was really nervous-I can't imagine how Spike must have felt. Looking back, I can't believe he let us stand around and watch. I guess he figured he didn't have a choice at that point, and he was right. None of us would have missed it.
I remember hanging out in the back of the living room, kind of jumping around from one foot to the other while Giles unwound the bandages. Dawn grabbed me by the arm to make me stand still.
When Giles took away the little cotton pads that covered his eyelids, I almost walked out. I couldn't stand the suspense. Would they be the same? The same color, the same expression? And why did I care so much, anyway?
Giles stood up and backed away. Spike's eyelids fluttered a little, then opened.
Everyone was smiling. He had eyes, and in all the right places. Nice, round, real eyes, just where they should be. And the same color blue, too. Yeah, everybody was just grinning away and making happy little congratulatory remarks, but Spike didn't seem to be listening.
"Slayer?"
I stepped forward. "Yes, Spike?"
"Is it...is it all right, then?"
"Yeah, Spike. It's all right." Except that it wasn't. And I couldn't believe that nobody but me could see it. Those eyes, yeah, they were round and blue and definitely there, but they were empty. No humor. No anger. No lust. I thought my gut was going to rip in two, but I had to lie to him.
He wasn't satisfied by my answer, but he didn't push it. And all I could think was: 'please, let that bitch wander into my path.' 'Cause I was gonna visit some serious revenge on her for this-for taking away all the worlds of feeling Spike expressed with his eyes. For making him feel and act helpless. For putting him in the position of having to depend on us, on me.
Strange how just a couple of years ago, when he got himself chipped and had to come to us for help, I was glad. Glad to see him brought so low, knocked off his way-too-high horse, made all humble. Now, it drove me crazy. I wanted to shake him and yell at him and force him to be like he used to be.
'Cause I was really scared that we'd seen the last of the Big Bad. And I just couldn't take that. Not when I'd just started to realize...what? That I do need a little monster in my man, after all?
All of that stuff just flooded my brain all at once when I was standing there looking into those dead blue eyes, and suddenly I just wasn't dealing. I ran out of the room like it was on fire, and then out of the house. I could hear Dawn calling after me, but I didn't stop.
I needed to kill something. With any luck at all, she would be waiting for me.
tbc
Author: VicNoir
Rating: R
Disclaimers, etc.: please see previous chapters.
I won't lie to you-the first week was hard. Having him around, especially in the condition he was in, made me seriously jumpy.
We were surrounded by helpers. Giles came in twice a day to change the bandages. I refused to watch after the first time. He said Spike was healing fast, but I didn't want to see his face uncovered until there were actual, real eyes there, in the places they used to be. As for the other injuries, I didn't ask, but I assumed they were mending.
Willow worked a healing spell, figuring it couldn't hurt, and whipped up treats like blood-soaked Weetabix and hot chocolate like my mom used to make.
Tara came and read to him every day-mostly stuff out of that book of poetry she'd found in the crypt.
Even Xander and Anya stopped over a few times. Xander was uncomfortable around Spike. I could tell by the way he didn't insult him. Didn't stop Spike from riding Xander, though. In fact, I think Xander's being nice to him just pissed him off.
Dawn spent a lot of time with him. They sat in front of the TV together with the volume turned up loud, and she described the action for him. She was also the one who washed the dried blood out of his hair, and gelled and combed it for him He saved his best smiles for her.
For me, there were no smiles. Especially after he asked for his coat, and I had to tell him it was missing.
"Missin'? How could it be missin'? Did you let someone nick it, then?"
"We didn't LET anything happen to it. It wasn't in the crypt. We looked."
"Look again, Slayer. It's got to be there." No 'please', no 'if it's not too much trouble'.
On my way out the door he hollered after me. "Don't come back without it, Slayer."
I stood in the middle of the crypt for a long time, just staring. She'd been back. Everything that Spike owned-TV, furniture, fridge, bedding, spare clothes, books, CD player and discs, all of it-had been destroyed. This bitch was on a mission. Looked like she used her bare hands and fangs on most of it. Made me big with the gladness that Spike hadn't still been laying there on the floor when she showed up for round two.
And no duster. Not even any shredded leather. It was gone, and I knew where. Or at least who. Maybe I'd have to track her, after all. Just to get the coat back, of course.
When I came back without it, he wouldn't speak to me. I didn't tell him about his stuff, or where I thought the duster had gone.
That also happened to be the day we decided to get him off the sofa and into the bathtub. He'd been wearing a pair of Xander's old sweats for five days at that point, and the living room was beginning to smell kinda funky.
Giles had gotten rid of the bandages on his lower half. The wounds were fully closed and even the scars were fading. But I could tell by the stiff way he moved when we helped him up the stairs that he was sore, and probably nervous, too.
I'd laid everything out for him-washcloth, soap, towels. I explained in detail the layout of the bathroom and where everything was. He listened with this really intense frown on his face, as if he were trying to picture it in his head. Then I went in ahead of him and turned on the water. Dawn led him in and left him there. I reminded him how important it was to keep the water away from the dressings on his face, and then I left, too.
Well, that isn't completely true. I waited outside in the hallway, with the door open just a crack. I mean, I couldn't just leave him there. What if he slipped and fell?
I listened to the splashy sound of him settling himself in the water. Then I looked in, just for a second.
Wow. Skirt-girl was right. And that's all I'm gonna say about that, at least for now.
Afterwards, when he was back on the sofa in clean sweats and a t-shirt, he turned to me. I'm assuming he knew Dawn wasn't in the room at that point.
"See anything you fancied, Slayer?"
I should have known he could hear me, or smell me, or whatever. Funny, it didn't really bother me. Maybe 'cause I couldn't see his eyes, dancing and laughing at me. Maybe for some other reason, but I was SO not going there.
It was only a few days later that Giles announced it: Spike's eyes were restored. At least, the physical fact of them. He was still blind. Apparently, the whole nerve damage thing was an issue.
Everybody gathered for the unveiling. I was really nervous-I can't imagine how Spike must have felt. Looking back, I can't believe he let us stand around and watch. I guess he figured he didn't have a choice at that point, and he was right. None of us would have missed it.
I remember hanging out in the back of the living room, kind of jumping around from one foot to the other while Giles unwound the bandages. Dawn grabbed me by the arm to make me stand still.
When Giles took away the little cotton pads that covered his eyelids, I almost walked out. I couldn't stand the suspense. Would they be the same? The same color, the same expression? And why did I care so much, anyway?
Giles stood up and backed away. Spike's eyelids fluttered a little, then opened.
Everyone was smiling. He had eyes, and in all the right places. Nice, round, real eyes, just where they should be. And the same color blue, too. Yeah, everybody was just grinning away and making happy little congratulatory remarks, but Spike didn't seem to be listening.
"Slayer?"
I stepped forward. "Yes, Spike?"
"Is it...is it all right, then?"
"Yeah, Spike. It's all right." Except that it wasn't. And I couldn't believe that nobody but me could see it. Those eyes, yeah, they were round and blue and definitely there, but they were empty. No humor. No anger. No lust. I thought my gut was going to rip in two, but I had to lie to him.
He wasn't satisfied by my answer, but he didn't push it. And all I could think was: 'please, let that bitch wander into my path.' 'Cause I was gonna visit some serious revenge on her for this-for taking away all the worlds of feeling Spike expressed with his eyes. For making him feel and act helpless. For putting him in the position of having to depend on us, on me.
Strange how just a couple of years ago, when he got himself chipped and had to come to us for help, I was glad. Glad to see him brought so low, knocked off his way-too-high horse, made all humble. Now, it drove me crazy. I wanted to shake him and yell at him and force him to be like he used to be.
'Cause I was really scared that we'd seen the last of the Big Bad. And I just couldn't take that. Not when I'd just started to realize...what? That I do need a little monster in my man, after all?
All of that stuff just flooded my brain all at once when I was standing there looking into those dead blue eyes, and suddenly I just wasn't dealing. I ran out of the room like it was on fire, and then out of the house. I could hear Dawn calling after me, but I didn't stop.
I needed to kill something. With any luck at all, she would be waiting for me.
tbc