Broken Origin II: Chapter Six
When Buffy woke up in the hospital, her first instinct was to run. Despite the fact that the police were no doubt after her, and had been for weeks, she and hospitals just didn't get along – ever. In fact, they didn't just not get along, they absolutely terrified her.
'Spike?'
Where was he? Did it matter? There'd be no comfort from that corner. He didn't care that she'd been scared of the dark – he wouldn't care if he knew she was scared of hospitals, either…
'Avalanche! Help me! Help Me…!'
"Celia," was the first word out her dry throat when she opened her eyes to the sienna orange walls, and the strong odor of disinfectant.
'You saved me, Power Girl! Thank you!'
'Poor Celia'…God, she didn't want to be here, she wanted out. People died in hospitals – !
"It's going to be the Devil's work to train this girl, I hope you are aware. God only knows what kind of trauma she's suffered through…"
Blinking, Buffy stared at the ceiling. Great. Someone was in the room with her, being all chatty on a cell phone. Rude much.
'Here it comes' , she thought. 'This is the part where this police/security guy who's been waiting for me to wake up goes out and calls in his buddies, and they cart me off to jail for the 'murder' of my parents…"
Buffy gave a small moan of misery.
"Buffy? M-miss Summers? Are you awake?"
Wait. Did police/security people have British accents? In southern California?
"Miss Summers? Are you in pain? Shall I…shall I ring the nurse?"
Buffy groaned. Was it too late to pretend she was unconscious again?
"Miss Summers - ?"
Buffy answered, but didn't bother to open her eyes. "I'm fine," she bit out. "You can leave now."
"Mr. Travers? Er, yes, she's conscious, now, I must go. Yes…yes. I understand. Yes, quite. Goodbye…"
Buffy listened to the man's clumsy, nearly inept attempts to end the call, almost smiling as he cursed under his breath as he noisily – and repeatedly – hit the wrong buttons.
"Don't you know you're not supposed to use cell phones in hospitals?" Buffy asked bitchily when he was done, still refusing to open her eyes. The longer she kept them closed, the longer she had until facing the bleak reality of her world again. From the sound of things, the Watcher's council had finally caught up to her.
Things were about to become even bleaker, she suspected.
"I don't need another Watcher, if that's what you're here for," she said flatly. "You guys seem to come with even shorter expiration dates than us Slayer's. No offense."
"None taken, I assure you."
"Good. Great. So leave already, alright?"
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Miss Summers."
"Will you stop calling me that? It's Buffy. B-u-f-f-y. And you can do it. It's simple. See the door? Walk through it and keep going." She clenched her fists under the thin sheets. She hoped he'd listen to her, because she was getting angrier by the minute. This council obviously thought she belonged to them, like some kind of possession. Well, she didn't belong to anybody but herself!
"Buffy, my name is Rupert Giles. As you have no doubt already surmised, I am here to act as your new watcher, and continue your training – "
"Took you guys long enough to find me," Buffy snapped, turning her head, and opening her eyes to glare at the man standing over her. She took in the surprising youth of his appearance, his tweed suit and wire-frame glasses, and shook her head. He looked to be around her dad's age; almost a baby compared to Merrick…and a hell of a lot better looking at that.
The watcher looked embarrassed. "Yes, well, as to that – "
"Do you know what happened to my parents?" she asked quietly.
"Yes." He looked away.
"Do you know what happened to me?"
"Buffy, I know that things have been…difficult for you of late, but you must understand that – "
Buffy pushed herself up into a sitting position, surprised at how good she felt, at how much strength she could feel coursing through her. She hadn't felt this powerful since before the vampires had kidnapped her.
Speaking of…
"No." She shook her head, looking at the watcher through haunted eyes.
"You don't know what I've been through. You don't know what happened to me, and I don't have to understand anything. Go back to England, and tell that Travers guy, or whoever it is in charge, that I'll stay here and do my 'job' for as long as I can. But I don't want anything to do with you or the council. I'm sick of being manipulated, and told what to do."
Giles sighed, swiping off his glasses to scrub at the lenses with a handkerchief from his trouser pocket.
"It's all very well that you should feel this way, Buffy, angry and frustrated because you did not choose this for your life. But you should remember, you are the Chosen. You are the light in the darkness that keeps the monsters at bay."
"You're right," Buffy replied harshly. "I am the Chosen. But you're not. What makes you think you can teach me anything?"
Giles drew himself up, looking both insulted and suddenly unsure of himself, as if he hadn't expected her to react in quite this manner. He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a tentative knock on the cracked door.
Buffy's head turned, and she saw Xander and Willow peeking around the door at them. She lifted a hand to give them a hesitant wave. "Hey."
That was all it took for Willow to come rushing in, her hands twisting around the rainbow handles of a small blue backpack. She looked guilty and stressed, dark circles rimming her soft brown eyes as she came up to the bed.
"Buffy, I know I promised not to call anyone, but you stopped breathing and we freaked out – " Willow started to ramble.
"It's okay, Willow. I shouldn't have put you under that kind of stress, anyway. You didn't know who I was. But, I guess you do, now, huh?"
"I know, I just feel really bad, I mean, I promised – "
"Don't worry about it. You saved my life. You did what you had to do, and I respect that."
Willow looked relieved. "Really? Thanks."
Xander stepped up to the bed, too, holding a small bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.
"Er…hey, Buff. Glad to see you're finally awake." He awkwardly put the flowers on the rolling tray beside her bed.
Buffy gave him a small smile in return, still not quite understanding what was going on. She'd almost gotten these kids killed, and they were bringing her flowers, like she was important to them, or something.
"Xander and Willow have been visiting you daily since you were brought in, Buffy," Giles told her gently.
Buffy frowned. "Sounds like you guys have gotten to know eachother."
"Yeah, it's really weird," Willow agreed, pushing her hair behind her ear. "It turns out Mr. Giles is your Watcher, and the new librarian at the high school. I would say I was expecting a woman, but, uh, I guess that could be kind of sexist or something, huh?"
Buffy gave her a semi-amused look. "Or something. How long have I been here, anyway?"
"Two weeks."
"I've been unconscious for two weeks?" Buffy's jaw dropped.
"Oh, God, Spike - !" Spike was on the loose, and killing too, no doubt!
Xander's face took on a grim look. "We haven't seen him."
"You weren't out looking for him - ?!" Buffy asked, horrified.
"Oh, no! No way!" Willow interjected. "We just haven't seen him around, is all. Maybe he left town," she added hopefully.
Surges of hope and despair filled Buffy. "Maybe," she agreed weakly, settling back against her pillows with a thump. Memories came rushing back, and she lifted a hand to touch the scar on her lips and chin. It had healed completely already, and it wasn't even sensitive to the touch. She ran a finger over the thin ridge, trying not to think of how ugly it must look.
How would she be able to face Spike again like this? Knowing he'd probably mock her about having left his mark on her where everyone could see? Knowing he'd made her vulnerable enough to him to be able to trick her, knowing he'd made her care about him…?
Buffy's chest actually hurt when she recalled his face and it had nothing to do with any lingering pain from her broken ribs. God, why did she even care what he'd think? Why should she care? Why did she care?
Worst of all, why in the hell did she want to see him again so badly?
It was sick. She was sick –
"What kind of a name is Spike, anyway?" Xander was saying snippily.
"Ah…now that's a story," Buffy murmured quietly.
"Buffy?"
Buffy looked up at Giles to see him watching her with a closed expression.
"I have some business to attend elsewhere."
"Council business?" she asked bitterly.
Giles didn't answer, and she looked away, suddenly ashamed of herself. The watcher cleared his throat.
"Yes, well, in the meantime, Buffy, I think someone should stay with you – "
"Oh, I'll stay!" Willow immediately chirped, looking eager to make up for her broken promise.
"Yeah, me and Will can stay with her," Xander agreed.
Willow instantly looked suspicious. "Xander, you hate hospitals. You hate waiting in hospitals. You hate waiting, period!"
"I don't mind," Xander sputtered, looking abashed.
Willow rolled her eyes at Buffy. "He always complains about being bored. We were seven, and I had to have my appendix taken out, and all he could do was bounce on the end of my bed and whine about having nothing to do – "
"Hey, hey! I wasn't bored, I was concerned!"
"Oh, yeah, that's why the nurse yelled at you for trying to make a rope out of my sheets so you could escape out the window while our parents went to the cafeteria because you were scared appendicitis was 'catching'," Willow said blandly.
"Listen, you guys really don't hafta hang out," Buffy said hastily, sitting up in her bed. "I'm really feeling fine. In fact, I was just thinking of leaving – "
Giles reached out a hand to stop her. "I know very well that you are perfectly capable of leaving the hospital today, Miss Summers, but until the council and I can get things completely straightened out with the local authorities, I'm afraid it's best if just stay where you are. It's the safest place for you just now. In a day or two I will allow you to be released – under my care, of course."
Grumbling, Buffy sat back against the pillows. "Fine, but can we get somebody in here to take out this I.V.? It itches," she complained, scratching gingerly at the tape on the back of her hand. "And I'm hungry, too."
Mr. Giles looked bemused by her reaction to his words, as if he'd thought she might rebel and run off.
"Yes, I will go to the nurses station and ask them to inform the doctor that you are awake, and see about ordering you a meal. You just, erm…stay here, won't you? With, um…with Willow and Xander, yes?"
Buffy shrugged, still looking faintly mutinous, the thin scar on her lips exaggerating her sullenness. "Yeah, whatever."
Giles looked to Willow. "I take it I won't need to fear your discretion in this matter?"
"Huh?" Xander just looked confused.
"We won't tell anyone anything, Giles. I mean it this time. We'll wait here until you get back," Willow told the new librarian cheerily. "We'll find something to keep Buffy occupied."
"Yeah, we can all just sit around and play 'Where's Waldo' with Buffy's bruises – ooh, and then Connect-the-dots."
Giles shook his head and walked out the door.
Buffy eyed Xander strangely.
"I fear you."
Embarrassed, the boy cleared his throat.
"Sometimes I fear myself."
Buffy shocked them both by smiling hugely. The simple, although almost unwilling act, went a long way towards transforming her thin, pale face.
"God, you should smile more often," Xander said in an awe-filled voice, before he shook himself. "Or, on the other hand, maybe you shouldn't." He pulled his hand out of his pocket in a hurry, and dropped his eyes to the linoleum.
Willow rolled her eyes.
Outside in the corridor, Rupert Giles paused and ran a shaking hand over his brow. He pulled off his glasses and pressed his fingertips to his eyes.
It had shaken him badly to see the young girl in there wake up so disillusioned with herself, and with life in general. The pain of her experiences had been there, forever etched into her green eyes for all to see, if they cared to look.
Giles heard a quiet cough, and looked up to see that he was blocking the way of the dinner cart coming through with the patient's evening meals. He excused himself, and moved to the side, pushing his glasses back on.
As he walked down the corridors to find the nurse's station, and then the elevators, Giles was only mildly surprised to feel his anger rising at the injustices the young Slayer had had to endure because of her title. A week ago, when he'd first arrived in Sunnydale, he'd looked on his new responsibilities with the apathy that twenty years of training had given him. Then his charge had woken up, and the feelings that had rushed through him as he'd gazed down at her could only be labeled as fatherly. He'd wanted to protect her, to gain justice for the wrongs done to her, to help her re-learn that not everyone was out to get at her…it would be difficult, considering the council had doubts about her already, and considered her very expendable if she couldn't perform her duties.
Willow and Xander would help him in that, he was certain.
Having been there when Buffy fought Spike, the cat had already been out of the bag, so to speak, and he'd seen no purpose in lying to what looked to be two very perceptive youths. He'd answered their questions about Buffy and what it meant to be the Chosen one until he'd wanted to snap in impatience, but it had been worth it. No matter what the council rules said about the Slayer keeping her identity strictly secret, this girl in particular would need all the friends she could get – and Willow and Xander seemed to be two rare souls, indeed.
Giles straightened his vest and tie as he waited for the elevator to arrive at his floor. He reminded himself that he had work to do, important work, if he was to scourge Sunnydale and his Slayer of the evil making it's mark upon them both. He also had to remind himself that he wasn't being paid to be fatherly. He was being paid to serve up the hard truth of life to the newest Slayer.
Sadly, though, it seemed as if she'd already learned that hardest of lessons on her own.
"God help us, you'd better go the distance Buffy," the watcher muttered to himself as emerged into the hot sunlight.
"The fate of the world is depending on you…"
It was after midnight, but Buffy couldn't sleep. She'd been out for two weeks, and besides, how much sleep did a person need anyway?
Buffy looked across the small room from her spot in a hard padded chair by the big picture window. The television light flickered across Xander, who'd fallen asleep watching Saturday Night Live re-runs, a half-eaten bag of chips in his lap as his head lolled on the mate of the same hard chair Buffy sat in. Willow had gone to sleep much earlier, on a cot that one of the floor nurses had kindly rolled in for her.
Buffy smiled slightly. It was nice having someone there for her, even if they barely knew each other. She'd been kinda' surprised to learn that Giles had told them all about her and her calling. The watcher had looked like quite the stickler when it came to rules, and she was sure he'd broken several already.
Xander suddenly gave a low snort, cleared his throat, and bolted up in his chair. He coughed and then gave a wild look around, as if he couldn't remember what he was doing there.
"Hey, you okay?"
The boy looked over at the sound of her voice, and then he visibly relaxed.
"Sorry." He reached up and scrubbed at his face with both hands.
"Nightmares?" Buffy asked, commiserating.
Xander stood up. "Nah. Well…maybe. Let's just say sleep hasn't been an easy thing ever since I found out vampires were real."
"Tell me about it."
Xander stretched, smothered a yawn, and bent to retrieve his discarded snack bag from the floor. He rolled it into a ball and shot it across the room to the trash can, missing it. He looked over at Buffy to see if she'd noticed his pathetic game, and saw her looking out of the window again. She looked so sad and lonely it ate him up inside. He wanted to ask her if she needed to talk, but…
"Buffy?" he asked softly.
She looked at him, the television light playing over her face. The resigned look in her hazel green eyes made him lose his confidence.
"Uh…I'm gonna' go get some…coffee." He jerked a thumb towards the door, feeling like a dork as she continued to stare at him. "Yeah…you want something?"
A slight smile finally softened her expression. "No, but…thanks."
Xander returned the faint smile, and left the room, still feeling miserably inept.
When she was alone again – or as good as - Buffy looked out the window of her hospital room again…and almost choked when she saw who was now outside on the street below.
Hot tears suddenly sprang to her eyes at the sight. Her chest actually ached, and it had nothing to do with any pain from her healed ribs.
Buffy stood up, leaning her forehead against the cold glass of the window pane, steadying herself with one palm pressed against the window.
Spike was standing near a lamplight, his blond head bowed as he smoked a cigarette.
She watched as the vampire pulled back one side of his duster to push his lighter back into his jeans pocket. He then turned his head to look at the hospital again – he was staring at the main entrance which was two floors below Buffy's room.
Buffy caught her breath. She knew she was being stupid, but…was he looking for her? Or had he already found her and was just watching over her? Had he missed her? She continued to stare, all the reasons she disliked him, for the moment, gone.
Buffy saw Spike suddenly go very still. The hand lifting the cigarette to his lips slowly dropped to his side. His head tilted back, and she saw him looking up…looking right at her.
Catching her breath again, Buffy immediately dropped like a rock. She sat on her knees on the cold floor, her hands reaching up to tangle in the disheveled hair at her scalp.
God, what had she been thinking?! He wasn't here to watch out for her! He was trying to kill her! How stupid could she be?!
A minute later the heavy door to her room squeaked open. The light shining in from the corridor beyond disguised whoever was entering, but Buffy knew. Her heart beat sped up.
The dark figure stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Still crouched on the floor in nothing but her stupid thin hospital gown that wouldn't close right, and a thin knit blanket tangled around her legs, Buffy stared up at him in a kind of awe. A huge lump of emotion had formed in her throat, making it impossible to speak. She couldn't tell if it was because she was afraid, or soul-deep glad to see him.
In the first few hours of her waking up she tried to convince herself that Spike had never really been as good looking as she' d thought.
Spike smiled his snarly grin at her.
She'd been so wrong.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.
She'd been lying to herself in the worst possible way.
Spike sauntered towards her, his boots making no sound on the aged linoleum floor. He stopped in front of her. Her nose caught the scent of his leather duster. The familiar smell seemed soothing somehow, now when her emotions were in a riot.
"Ulp," she finally managed to squeak. Xander was still a no-show, and Willow slept on, peacefully oblivious.
Spike was still smiling, and it was unsettling in the extreme.
"Hullo, Slayer." He reached out a hand to grab hers and pulled her up. Buffy stumbled against him, flattening her breasts against his chest, and Spike chuckled. She looked up at him, enthralled by the deep color of his eyes.
"Didja' miss me?"
He didn't wait for her to answer but picked her up instead, blanket and all, dragging her over his shoulder and jostling her in a way that made her glad her ribs had healed.
"Spike!" she hissed. "Put me down!"
"No way. We've got a lot to talk over, little love, and we can't do it here."
Buffy almost swallowed her tongue.
"Spike – "
"Shh." He put a hand over her mouth, and slapped her rump with the other as he paused outside the door. He kept his hand over her mouth the whole time as he crept down the quiet hallways, until they reached the ground floor and exited out the sliding glass doors.
He also kept his hand on her ass the whole time, too.
Buffy was getting angry. She couldn't take the silence any longer.
She licked him.
Spike dropped his hand – and her, almost – as if it were on fire.
"Spike, what are you doing? Where are you taking me?"
"Home, you silly bint. Now shut-up, will you? There are eyes an' ears all over the place tonight."
Buffy stared at the fluttering tails of his duster against the asphalt as he quickly moved along.
Home? He was taking her back to the crypt?!
To be Continued in Chapter Seven
(A/N: So sorry about the cliffie! Seven will be up much sooner than usual, promise! I also want to take this opportunity to give many thanks to the lovely person who nominated Broken Origin I for Best Kidnapping Fic at the Vampire's Kiss Awards! This is its second nomination there – maybe I'll get lucky this time, lol. Anyway, you made my day! Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing! )
