Chapter 33 – A Change
I come awake suddenly, aware that something's out of place without knowing what it is. I lie, frozen, as I remember where I am, and when I've done that, I immediately spot the thing that woke me. I fell asleep curled into a small space beside Spike who was lying on his back looking more dead than alive. I'm still in the same place, but Spike's arm is no longer lying inert by his side. It's draped across his body and stroking my arm softly but in a regular rhythm.
Trying not to break contact, I sit up awkwardly. His thumb's stroking my arm, travelling a short distance before returning to begin again. I tear my eyes away from that to his face. His eyes are still closed, but his eyelids are flickering again.
"Spike?" I ask, moving my other hand to his face, and running my fingertips over it.
The flickering pauses, then begins again in earnest.
"Spike," I say again. "You wake up right now. Do you hear me?"
The flickering stops again, and my heart sinks. Then, without warning, his eyes begin to open, continuing until I can see the familiar blue clearly, and they stay open. He seems to be having problems focussing at first, so I just make sure my face is right in front of his, and smile hopefully.
"Bss bnt," he mumbles. I start to laugh. It might not sound much like it, but I recognise that I've just been called a 'bossy bint'. I hear footsteps behind me, heralding the arrival of some staff, but I don't turn. Instead, I lean down, bringing my lips to his, intending only the slightest touch, but his lips move under mine, and the kiss lasts for slightly longer than I intended. I move away at last when I feel a hand on my shoulder.
"If you'll excuse us," the doctor from yesterday says, "we'd like to run some tests. It shouldn't take too long, and then you can come back again."
I'm about to protest, to tell them I'm not about to let him out of my sight ever again, but he continues to talk.
"You may want to call your friends and let them know what's happened. And your friend arranged for breakfast to be delivered from the Espresso Pump this morning for you. It arrived a short while ago, and it's in the waiting room. We weren't going to waken you but since you're awake now anyway …"
Breakfast? I glance at my watch, and sure enough, it's breakfast time. I had no idea I'd managed to sleep all night. And just to make sure there's no mistake, my stomach rumbles loud enough to be heard by someone in the next room.
"You'll let me know as soon as you're finished?" I ask, but I'm not looking at the doctor, only Spike.
"I promise," he answers. Spike's smiling at me, not a big grin, just that little smile he has, and I bend down one more time to kiss him, then get off the bed and walk back down the corridor to the waiting room.
Sure enough, there's a cup of coffee which is still warm, and a bag which, on investigation, contains two doughnuts – one jelly and one with little chocolate bits. There's a phone in the corner of the room, so I grab the chocolate doughnut, and walk over there, dialling my apartment number.
Wes answers, and I quickly let him know that Spike just came round, and that they're checking him out. He sounds genuinely pleased, and promises to tell the others. Having done my duty, I take a bite of doughnut and go back to my coffee.
Despite my initial determination to eat only one doughnut, the jelly soon follows the chocolate one into my mouth, and I'm left licking sticky sweetness off my fingers. I take a mouthful of coffee to wash it all down, and as I put the cup down, the doctor's in front of me again. I jump up, worried by his serious expression.
"How is he? He's not …"
"He's fine," he reassures me. "Everything seems to measure up normally. He's a bit slow still, sort of sleepy, but there's no sign of permanent damage. We'll still need to do a full range of tests once he's had some rest, but he seems to be ok."
"Can I …"
"Go back? Of course you can. He'll be a little groggy for a while, may even sleep a lot, but that's all it'll be, I expect, just sleep."
I exhale slowly, not even aware until I start that I'd been holding my breath. I walk the short distance back to his room, and as soon as I go in, Spike smiles at me, and tries to sit up. Before I can get to him to push him back down, he gives up the attempt, flopping onto his back.
"What do you think you're doing?" I demand, hands on hips.
"Was going to sit up, as you no doubt realise, but you and the rest of the room decided to take a turn on the waltzers, so I gave up."
"Waltzers?" I ask.
"Never mind. You, the room, spinning. Not good."
"Still spinning?" I ask, watching him.
"Slowing nicely," he says. "Expect it'll stop soon."
"Apart from that, how do you feel?"
"I feel like I've gone ten rounds with you, and I mean punches in an alleyway, but without the bruises to show for it. Don't remember much about what happened."
"Well, you didn't go ten rounds with me, not this time. What do you remember?"
"I remember Clinton starting to sing for the detuning, and after that, it all gets woolly, kind of vague, but with pain."
"You're right, Clinton sang, and the controller sang back, near as I can tell. It was the most awful sound I've ever heard, but you couldn't just hear it, you could feel it. But because the amulet's part of you, you were tuned to the controller too, and it seemed like you were finding it very painful."
"Did it work?" he says quietly.
"I think so," I tell him. "I mean, the controller finally started echoing the same note that Clinton was singing, but we didn't get the chance to test it, what with you being unconscious and all."
"Where is it?" I hear reproach in the question, so I react accordingly.
"Still where we left it, I suppose. How should I know? I thought you were dying. I didn't know what had happened to you, just that you'd been in agony, and that your heart was racing, and I thought you weren't going to make it."
"Oh," he answers. And I know he's disappointed. And I'm annoyed that he's disappointed.
"Look, I'll ask Clinton later." I promise, taking a deep breath. "Just don't worry about it for now. All we need to do is get you well enough to leave here, and then we can find out what's been happening."
"Any word on Gina?" he asks.
"No, nothing. But it sounds like Lucy and Wes have found something, some way out of the contract with the Senior Partners. Have to wait to hear the details, but it's a start. If we've got that, then all we've got to do is find out more about the source of their power, and we've got the beginning of a plan."
"I'll be fine in a minute. I just need …"
"To rest. Look, are you hungry? I could try to get you some food?"
"Could manage something," he admits, and I turn to leave the room but I'm met by a nurse carrying a tray.
"Not Espresso Pump, I'm afraid," he says as he walks in. "Probably not a good idea to have too much caffeine at the moment, but I've got some toast and orange juice. How's that sound?"
"Disappointing," Spike says, attempting to sit up again. I'm about to stop him, but he puts up a hand to stop me. This time, he seems to cope better.
"Now, some bacon, eggs, fried bread, maybe a few mushrooms, black pudding, sausages, and baked beans - that'd sound good."
"Sorry," the nurse apologises. "Need to keep it simple for now. You concentrate on resting, and you can get out of here soon. Then, it's between you and your arteries what you eat."
He leaves the tray beside the bed and walks out of the room.
Spike smiles at that, and I hand him the glass. He drinks it quickly, then hands it back to me. He lifts a piece of toast from the plate, but before he takes a mouthful, says, "See if you can get a refill? Feels like I haven't had anything to drink in forever. Water if they don't want me to have more juice."
I do so, returning a couple of moments later with two glasses, one filled with orange juice and the other with water.
When he's finished everything, Spike flops back onto his pillows.
"Tired?" I ask.
"Just a tad," he answers. "Think I'll close my eyes for a minute. "
He reaches for my hand, pulling it towards the bed. "Don't go."
"Wild horses couldn't drag me away," I promise.
He nods then, and his eyes close.
We spend the morning like that. Spike dozes, and we chat, and he dozes. But the time between the sleeps gets longer, and by the time someone comes in with lunch, he looks much better.
With lunch finished, (and Spike having eaten his way through two helpings of everything), the doctor returns and proposes a more exhaustive series of tests which he thinks will take a couple of hours.
"And after that, I get to go home?" Spike asks, but his tone of voice is such that he's not so much asking as telling.
"Well, I'd be happier if you stayed here tonight," the doctor replies.
"Your tests tell you there's nothing wrong, then I'm going home. And if there is something, unless you can sort it out fast, I'm still going."
"Ok," he admits. "I don't suppose it'll do any harm. Lucy's with you, and she can contact someone if you need help. But only if the tests don't show a problem."
It's obvious that I'm going to be in the way if I stay, so I agree to run home so I can shower and change, and come back later.
As soon as I set foot in the apartment, Willow's there, demanding details on Spike's condition. I explain as much as I know, and she listens intently. I pop into the living room to find Wes and Lucy deep in discussion, the pages of my contract with the Senior Partners spread over the floor between them. Lucy seems not to notice me at all, but Wes looks up and smiles.
"Spike's better?" he asks.
"Seems to be. They want to do some more tests, scans and stuff, and I needed a shower and some clean clothes. I'm going right back, and hopefully, he'll be coming home later today."
"I'm glad, Buffy," he says, sincerely, but I can see a cloud there where he's wishing we had good news about Gina instead. And I understand that, I really do. He hardly knows Spike, and Gina and the baby are his whole world. I approach him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"We'll get her back, you wait and see," I promise, and I mean it. I'll do whatever needs to be done. Partly for Wes and partly for me, but mainly because she didn't sign on for all this, and the baby certainly didn't. Wes smiles in reply, a small, tight smile, and places his hand on mine. It almost feels like I've taken an oath, but it wouldn't mean any more if I actually had.
Embarrassed, Wes looks away and buries himself in the papers on his lap. I take that as my cue to smile at Lucy and go to have my shower.
I'm back at the hospital within a couple of hours, and I'm pleased to note that Spike's back in his room, and he even looks awake. I remembered to pack some clean clothes for him in a bag, and I put that on his lap. He looks inside, and with a grin, pulls out the various items.
"Close the door, Pet," he asks, pulling off the covers.
I do so, and he quickly dresses. The difference is good to see. No more invalid-Spike in bed looking pale. He's back to normal, or as close as I can tell, and once he's finished, I put my arms around him and kiss him thoroughly.
We're interrupted by a cough behind me, and the familiar doctor and a couple of other Carnolans come in.
"So, doc, what's it say? I'm back to my usual, fit and athletic self, eh?"
"Er," the doctor replies, apparently not entirely sure how to react to Spike's comment. "Not knowing the normal readings for you, it's hard to tell exactly. But, you certainly come within the normal human range for most things, and you exceed the range on a few tests. So, I'd say you're good to go. But please, if anything happens, anything at all, get in touch."
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card. It's not a personal one, but one for the hospital itself, or so it seems. He scribbles a name on it – Leon Williams – and hands it to Spike.
"That goes for you too," he says, turning towards me. "There may be times when your particular abilities will be difficult to explain in other medical facilities. If ever we can help you, we'll be here."
I thank him, shaking his hand warmly. I'm so relieved to be leaving here. I don't like hospitals, never have, and getting out of this one with an intact Spike is just the best possible outcome.
We get back to find that Wes has gone out. Spike's obviously tired by the way he flops onto the sofa. I go and dump our things in the bedroom, and then return to the living room.
"So, what happened with Wes?" I ask, looking at each of the women in turn.
"We'd pretty much finished," Lucy starts. "We're as sure as we can be that we can turn your contract with the Senior Partners against them. We can talk about the details later, once we've agreed on a course of action."
"Wes seemed … agitated," Willow adds. "You know, after you visited, and being all happy about Spike coming home, it seemed to upset him. Not that he wasn't happy about Spike, it's just that …"
"It made him feel bad about Gina," I finish, and Willow nods.
"I guess. Anyway, once Lucy and he had done as much as they could, he just picked up his jacket and said he was going out. He didn't answer when I asked where he was going."
"He didn't give you any idea at all?" I demand.
"No, I just thought he needed some time alone."
I go to the phone and dial his cell phone, but it's been switched off. Then I dial his apartment number, but there's no reply.
"How long ago did he leave?" I ask, still listening to phone ringing.
"Half an hour," Willow supplies. Some of my worry seems to be rubbing off on her. "Why? What do you think he's doing?"
"I don't know. He might just have gone out to get drunk, and it doesn't seem like he's gone home, but …"
"But you think it's more than that."
"I'm just worried he's gone looking for trouble."
"What sort of trouble?" Willow asks.
"Anything. Just vamps, something to hit, or maybe going to the area where Gina is, just hoping to spot something, or …"
"Or what?"
"Or going back to Wolfram and Hart," suggests Spike.
"He wouldn't," Willow argues.
"Are you sure? I might, for someone I loved. Go and have it out with the Poof at least, see what he knows."
"This is Wesley we're talking about. He's too sensible to go in there armed with nothing more than righteous indignation," Willow says in a tone which brooks no argument.
"You're probably right," I answer. "He's probably just gone out for a drink, or even just to get some exercise. At least, I hope so. Still, I'd better go and see if he's around, just in case he's found some trouble."
"And how do you expect to find him?" Spike asks.
"I don't. But if there's demon trouble around, I'll probably sense that."
"I'll just …" Spike starts to get up.
"You'll stay where you are," I answer, placing the palm of my hand on his chest. "I'm not looking for trouble either, and I won't be long. You need to rest."
He looks like he's going to protest, so I lean down towards where he's sitting, and whisper in his ear.
"I need you to keep your stamina for later."
Then I kiss him quickly, and get out of the apartment before he decides to do more than leer at me.