Chapter 3
Spike arrived at his crypt and proceeded, with some difficulty, to open the heavy stone door. Once inside, he simply kicked it back in place and moved over to the sarcophagus in the corner of his crypt, where he gently laid down his load.
He quickly moved over to the trunk across the room and hunted for his long lost first-aid kit. A minute later, after several items were haphazardly strewn around the room, he returns to her side and proceeds to assess the damage. Both her arms are sliced open and her right thigh has a deep gash in it. Minor scrapes are all over her face and upper body, including a rather large, yet shallow, cut down her left side from where the knife had slipped earlier. He starts cleaning the largest wounds and proceeds to wrap them as best as he can, carefully lifting her shirt just enough to reach the wounds, trying his best to keep her modesty in tact, knowing that's what she would want.
"God Pet, what happened out there? Don't tell me those dust balls out there did all this?"
Her pulse begins to fade again. Spike picks up the pace on his bandaging, trying to get the bleeding to stop. Small bloody tears threaten to fall from his eyes as he works.
"Don't die on me. I can't loose you again."
He leans down and lightly kisses her lips. Her pulse picks back up to a less threatening level with his touch, but she remains unmoving and unconscious.
He gets all her cuts bandaged from the upper body, but finds difficulty wrapping the gash on her thigh with her tight jeans on. Hoping Buffy won't wake up and stake him, he rips the jeans open, exposing her injured leg, to get to the cut. It's fairly deep and continues to bleed, so Spike applies pressure to the wound, hoping that it will stop before she looses much more blood. When it does finally stop, he slowly proceeds to carefully bandage it, complete with butterfly stitches to help close the wound. Having finished, he stands back to survey his work.
"No good pet. Can't have you all uncomfortable trying to heal. That leaves one place to go."
He looks down to the man hole in the ground and sighs. Hoped she wouldn't go down there. His private bedroom no one knew about. The only place he could be alone, but times were desperate and he wouldn't have Buffy wake up on a sarcophagus. She's much to good for that.
He glances back down at Buffy's unmoving form to make sure she's still unconscious before picking her back up carefully and proceeding to carry her down to the lower level of his crypt.