Spinning the Wheel 20 - Discovery
Buffy didn't know how many hours had passed since she had slumped down in the hospital chair.
She had her hand still placed over Spike's and was still trying to find more soothing words.
She didn't do that just to let him know that she was there - he hadn't even stirred in the last few hours - but it was also to convince her that everything was going to be alright, that he would make it.
Some of her words hadn't been that nice. She'd called him a bonehead a couple of times for being so stupid and stubborn. But most of her words had been kind, caring. What if he could really hear her? And what if others could hear her? She would be embarrassed out of her mind.
Suddenly, her stomach quailed in protest.
Right, she hadn't had breakfast, she hadn't even had a drink yet. She hadn't realized her hunger before but now is was coming down on her full force.
She had to get something to eat but she didn't want to leave Spike alone.
She had been so caught up in sitting there and watching him that she hadn't noticed that Ben had been watching her through the window in the wall.
It had taken him a while to gather up his courage to knock carefully on the door and step inside the room.
"Hey." he smiled kindly.
Buffy looked up at him slight surprise and just nodded for an answer.
"I told you I don't appreciate you being here." he told her. He didn't want to jump right into it.
"And I told you I wasn't leaving him alone." she said in a firm tone.
Ben could only nod at that. She had such a resolved look on her face that it wouldn't do him any good to try to convince her.
Buffy held his gaze for a couple of seconds, making her point clear then she turned back towards Spike. Again, her stomach growled in protest and she pressed the other hand against her belly.
"You sound hungry."
"I haven't had breakfast yet." she said in a calm voice, memory of her supposed-to-be breakfast came rushing back.
"It's two o'clock in the afternoon."
"Yeah."
"Buffy... don't jump at my throat when I say this now but… the doctor's coming here any minute, doing his visits. And he really doesn't like people standing about the room when he does that.
And... since you seem pretty starved... how about I take you to the cafeteria and get you lunch." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "with me."
The blonde took a minute to consider that. She didn't want to go and leave Spike to some doctor she hadn't even talked to until now but she was indeed totally starved.
"Okay." she nodded. She raised slowly, stretching her legs. She gave Spike's hand a light squeeze. "I'll be back soon." she whispered and followed Ben out of the room.
The cafeteria was pretty crowded around lunch time but they finally found an empty table.
Once she sat, Buffy started wolfing down the plate of paste Ben had insisted on paying for her.
"So…" he began slowly. "You two are pretty close, huh?"
Buffy half nodded, half shrugged at that, chewing on her pasta. What was that question supposed to be?
"How long have you two been together?"
She almost choked but caught herself and swallowed before answering. "What?"
"Since when are you a couple?… If that's... not too personal. I'm sorry, I take this whole psych stuff a little too serious sometimes."
"No..." Buffy raised a hand. "It's okay. We're... we're not together. We're just friends. I... ehm… I kinda crashed into him with my car. We met during the very entertaining Social Service hours."
"That's why he's in the wheelchair?"
"No." Buffy exclaimed. "God, no. That wasn't me. That was three years ago. We just know each for about three month now."
Ben had to stifle the release of relief breath. So that guy wasn't her boyfriend. Not that he would have guessed that a beautiful young woman would fall for that guy but you never knew. But did she have another guy somewhere?
"Buffy... do you know why your friend tried killing himself?" he asked after a while, watching Buffy eat.
"If I knew I'd kick his ass for it. I just…" again, the memory leapt into her mind, seeing him there, seeing the look on his face. "I found him this morning. We wanted to have breakfast together.
He... seemed okay yesterday. He was with me at the play in college."
"You did 'MacBeth'?" he asked surprised.
"Got me there, yeah." she blushed a little. "I walked him home, made the appointment for this morning and you know the rest of the story." she tried to hide that she was close to tears again.
"Did you know that he was talking painkillers?"
"I saw them in his bathroom once but... I didn't ask him about that and he... he doesn't talk about that stuff."
"We... ehm... we made a drug screening and it was pretty clear that he had taken them over a long period of time now, in increasing amounts. And not just the light stuff to numb a migraine."
Buffy sat there over a minute, trying to comprehend. This conversation took a whole different turn.
She hadn't expected Ben to tell her all this but besides that - and that was a lot worse - she hadn't expected Spike to NOT tell her. She couldn't deny that sharp little pang of anger in her heart, she felt betrayed, disappointed and hurt that he wasn't talking to her about this.
He himself had said it was good to talk to someone so why didn't he? That wasn't making any sense. And the urge to talk to him grew to a necessity. Too bad that she couldn't yell at him when he woke up because the more she thought about it the more angry she became.
"Buffy? You okay?" Ben tried to look her in the eyes and she snapped out of her thoughts.
"What?" she looked at him, a little startled. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just... he didn't tell me about that and I'm... disappointed, that's all." she sighed and dropped her fork onto the half-empty plate. She wasn't hungry anymore.
"I'm sorrry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought that you might want to know that." he said, an honest expression on his face.
"Yeah… thank you." she mumbled. She had lost every interest in the conversation. All she wanted was to talk to Spike. Finally. But it would still take hours for him to wake up.
Those hours passed. Buffy still sat in the chair beside that bed, her legs drawn beneath her. But she kept her hands to herself this time. Disappointment and anger went hand in hand inside her.
She was very disappointed that he didn't talk to her and it drove her to anger. But she was also angry at herself for having these thoughts right now. He had tried to kill himself and she was angry. It was just too weird.
A careful knock on the door startled her and she looked up, only to see her mother standing outside the room with the typical maternal concern on her face.
Buffy leapt out of her chair - happy to see another familiar face - and left the room to pull Joyce into a tight hug.
"God, Buffy. I was so worried when Willow told me you were at the hospital. I almost feared the worst." her mother mumbled into her hair.
"No, mom. I'm okay." she hugged her even tighter. It felt good to see her and to hold her for a moment. She was drained from the hours of waiting and not knowing what to do.
"What happened?"
Buffy filled her mother in on what had happened that day. The woman's eyes were wide with shock. "God, that's so horrible. I mean… he looked okay yesterday."
"I know." Buffy gaze drifted back to Spike in the room. He was a riddle. A god damn riddle on wheels.
"Buffy, do you want to come home? It's late." Joyce patted her daughter's shoulder comfortingly.
"I'd rather stay here." the blonde said, her voice almost a whisper.
"But you don't look so good yourself. How about I take you home and you take a long, hot bath and I bring you back here in the morning. There is nothing you can do right now."
Her mother was right. She was tired and exhausted. Her muscles ached from being curled up on the chair and she was developing some serious headache from thinking. So she nodded finally.
The hot bath was soaking through her muscles and it felt so good.
Buffy leaned her head back against the wall of the bathtub and inhaled the warm, peachy steam from the hot water. After a whole day of being coiled up like a spring she could finally relax a little.
The day had been hell and this was heaven.
Despite herself, tear started spilling down her cheeks. They just burst out of her as if finally leaning back had opened something inside her.
She had tried to be strong the whole day, being strong when Spike had been weak.
Buffy covered her eyes with one hand, tried to wash the tears away with the soapy water.
Her sobs echoed in the bathroom as she sat there, weeping. All the pent up fear came crashing down on her now, it hit her like punches in the stomach.
He had almost died today. If it hadn't been for her, he would still lay there on his living-room floor. The thought about that made her only cry harder until she thought she would never stop.
After about half an hour of weeping and sobbing, her tear finally subsided. The water was getting cold, so she stood and wrapped her fluffy towel around her.
Her room was comfortable warm as she slipped into her pj pants and a plain white top. She curled into her bed, wrapping the blanket around her. But sleep wouldn't come. Instead, she shed a few more tears silently into her pillow.
Spike awoke a little more than two hours after Buffy had left, almost at the same time as she sat in her bathtub, crying.
The room was dark expect the yellow light of a night-lamp over his head. A constant beeping sound pulled him back into reality. His head pounding as if someone was having his wicked way on a kettle-drum. His stomach felt like a lump of cold wax inside his belly and his knees were like jell-o. He couldn't move his arms nor his head.
For several minute he just lay there, tried to get his brain into function again.
He was awake. He was not dead. He had failed. Again.
As he felt his moveable part of his body respond to his will, he carefully raised one hand and felt the twinge of the IV-needle in the back of his hand. Then, after another gathering of strength and will, he lifted his head, tried to ignore the pounding, and looked at his surroundings.
Hospital, he recognized it. He was at a hospital again. There was probably nothing he hated more than hospitals. Too long had he been trapped in one to love them.
Just at the corner of the shadow the lamp overhead cast into the room, he saw the pile of clothing on one of the chairs. His clothing. The other chair was pulled close to the bed, down by the other hand that wasn't responding so well yet.
Someone must have been there, someone must have brought him clothes. Someone. Buffy. Of course, it had to be. She was the only one with a key and he fairly remember her being there at his apartment right before he blackened out again.
Had she been here, too? At his room, beside his bed?
Somewhere, stuffed back in his mind, he knew that she had been there. He had felt her presence, had felt her hand on his, even though he couldn't picture it. It was weird. He hadn't seen it, hadn't consciously felt it but he knew that she had been there with him, the whole day. As if some kind of instinct was telling him so.
It was assuring on one hand. But almost impossible on the other.
Why would she care so much? What reason did she have to stay at his bed for hours? Why did she even call the damn ambulance in time?
Tears stung his eyes as the thoughts crept back into his mind again. They were like some sort of taint inside him, staining him, not letting him free no matter how hard he tried.
They had been there since Cecily had humiliate him about ten years ago. Her words were like a scar on his soul, something that wouldn't heal despite the time that passed. And when Harmony had left him, she had torn the wound open again, making it bleed and stain the sheets again.
And the exact same thing had happened yesterday. With a clawing words, she had ripped this vulnerable part into shreds.
He wasn't good enough for them, never had been and would never be. That was all he could think of right now.
Useless. Worthless. Beneath.
