Chapter 29 - Recovery

I race upstairs to find Giles and Clem in my old room, Spike, conscious but otherwise as I remember him, lying on my old bed. Giles is slowly feeding him blood through a straw. I wonder why he's made no attempt to clean or dress his injuries. My expression must make my confusion obvious.

"Buffy, sit down. Dawn, will you see to your sister? She's going to need some first aid too. Clem was kind enough to bring some blood when I asked. I thought it best to fortify him with some first, before I start to clean him up, because, frankly, I'm not sure he'll be able to drink then. I'm amazed he's conscious now."

I nod, then wince as Dawn starts to pull at my arm.

"You'll have to come and get cleaned up," she tells me, pointing at my blouse meaningfully. She's trying to tell me that I'm going to have to get undressed, and that I won't want to do that here. The fact is that I don't care what else happens, I just don't want to leave Spike.

Giles spots my dilemma. "Go on, Buffy, I'm sure Spike will rest easier knowing you'll be more comfortable."

I look at Spike for his agreement, but he's staring at a spot on the ceiling, an unblinking stare that's eerily like the stare of a corpse.

I reluctantly follow Dawn to the bathroom, where she strips off my clothes, and checks me over. I've got loads of cuts to my hands and arms. I remember struggling to break that window, doing it with my hands, unprotected in my frantic attempt to rescue Dawn. I hardly notice what she's doing - even when she applies antiseptic liberally, I don't notice the stinging that normally elicits a vocal complaint. Once I'm bandaged, Dawn takes me back to Spike, then leaves to return a moment later with a mug of blood for me.

"No," I refuse. "Save it for Spike, he needs it more than I do."

"He's had enough for now. Clem managed a miracle looking at our fridge. There's enough blood to keep a vampire going for weeks. Drink it."

I wonder when my sister became such a bully, but I'm in no state to argue, so I drink it. The first sniff is doubtful. I know I've done this before, but I don't remember it too clearly. It doesn't smell too bad. Not as bad as I remember when Angel or Spike were drinking it as part of their standard liquid diet. I take a sip, and it's strangely tasty. I get the impression that the visual information is making this harder than it has to be, so I close my eyes, and drink it down.

Giles is working on Spike now. His hands, arms and chest are badly burned. Apart from his hair being singed and the distinct lack of eyebrows, his face is pretty much unscathed. I remember Willow. She didn't fare so well. There's so much damage on his arms in particular that I don't see how it can ever heal. He doesn't make a sound. I realise he hasn't – not since I arrived.

The phone rings, and Dawn gets up to answer it. When she returns, she's tight-lipped with anger.

"That was Xander," she announced. "They're treating Willow, but they've asked him to contact her parents. They're not sure whether she's going to make it."

I hear the news, and it makes no impression. She was my best friend. But, she tried to kill Dawn, end the world, and went away to get better. She came back, and tried to kill Dawn again. We trusted her, and she did it all over. I don't think I want to see her again. By the looks of it, Dawn feels the same.

Giles' face changes when he hears the news. His already sombre expression changes to something else, something more desperate, but he doesn't speak.

At last, Giles finishes dressing the worst of Spike's injuries, and stands up. Dawn's immediately offering to get more blood, but Spike shakes his head once. It's a tiny movement, but its meaning's clear.

To my surprise, Giles pulls on his jacket and goes to leave.

"Where are you going?" I ask, confused.

"The hospital," he replies, as if its the most natural thing in the world.

"Why?" I'm genuinely bemused.

"Because I need to go. There are things I've got to do."

He doesn't elaborate, and by the set of his face, I know he won't say any more no matter how much I badger him.

"If you need me back here, just call," he promises, opening the door and heading downstairs.

And so begins my vigil. Clem leaves, and I tell Dawn to go to bed, and she eventually agrees. I sit in my old room, watching Spike on my old bed. He never once looks at me. He never once makes a sound. He doesn't respond when I offer him blood.

He falls asleep at last, and I do too, waking with a start when he moves even slightly. It's so different now. When Dawn was in the room, he watched her, following her around the room with his eyes. Now she's gone, he's back to staring at the ceiling. I want to hold him, tell him I love him, reassure myself that he's still there, but I daren't. I remember our conversation, was it only earlier this evening? I told him I love him, but he didn't believe me. Now, I don't know how he feels. Surely, if he still loves me, he could look at me? Has it all gone so easily? It can't be fear, can it? Fear that my comforting him would lead to something he's not ready for? I didn't doubt my feelings before, but seeing him now, when I don't know if he'll ever recover, it's scaring me beyond belief. I need him so much. And it's not just need because of Dawn, because of the things that are expected of me. I need him. The girl who happens to be the Slayer. I'd need him if I wasn't the Slayer. I'd need him is I was completely human.

Dawn's back a few hours later, offering blood and food, and he nods to the offer of blood. It hurts me. He can't even take me trying to look after him, but I'm not leaving. I've stood from this chair only to go and relieve myself since I sat here last night.

The phone rings again, and I pick it up.

"Buffy?" Giles begins.

"Yeah," I reply.

"How is he?"

"Do you care?"

My question is met with silence.

"I mean, you went running off to Willow."

"I did that because I had to. I had to see for myself how Willow was doing. If there's any chance she might recover, I need to inform the coven she went to. They'll have to remove her power now, there's no way to avoid that, unless .."

He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't have to. He means unless she dies.

"Spike's ... the same," I tell Giles. I know he's listening, so I can't say more.

"As is Willow," he says softly.

I sit there through that long day, thinking about what happened the previous day. I'm still not sure what happened at the Magic Box. Why didn't Willow's magic kill Dawn? I wonder if Giles knows, but decide I'll ask him later. That cabin. It was filled with Tara's things, Dawn said. Almost like a shrine. I wonder how long Willow's been going there. Was it somewhere they shared when she was alive? I realise I haven't been close to Willow for a long time. There was a time we shared everything. Now, she's a stranger, and worse that a stranger.

I pull my mind back to the present, back to the man on the bed in front of me. He's still refusing to look at me, and its breaking my heart. I've made such a mess of my life. I've thrown away the greatest gift I've ever been given. The love of a man who loved me unconditionally. The way parents are supposed to; the way my father didn't. But, it was never the love of a parent. It was the love of a lover, of a partner for life. The love that's passion and contentment, heat and stability. It's the love I never thought I could have, the love I never expected.

As the day goes on, it becomes obvious that Spike's going to be ok. His injuries are noticeably better than last night, although it's going to take some time. That knowledge was tempered with the fact that he can't look at me. I've tried to talk to him several times. I've offered him blood, food, just looked for some acknowledgement of my presence, but all that's happened is that his body tenses, and he winces in pain. My presence is giving him pain. I feel like I've won the greatest prize in the world, and lost it the same day.