Chapter Six – Bossy Chit
Someone was moving him… and fuck, it hurt. He fought to keep his eyes closed and his breathing steady, not wanting to alert whoever it was to the fact that he was conscious. Small hands trailed along his arms, pressing and poking, then lifted his hands, holding them motionless for a few seconds before they were lightly set down. His fingertips brushed against something soft and slightly cool, then the hands moved to his legs, pressing and poking them as they were straightened and settled onto something soft. 'I'm on a bed. Bloody hell, haven't had that luxury in a while.' He let himself relax just a fraction, enjoying the sensation of lying on something other than a cold, concrete floor.
He almost startled as a loud noise sounded on his left. He heard the unmistakable sound of handcuffs clinking then snapping around something metal. The bed shifted slightly as a woman's voice said sharply, "What the hell are you doing?"
Keeping himself relaxed took every bit of willpower he possessed when he heard Finn's voice above him. "Cuffing him to the bed. If he's not being guarded, he has to be restrained. Prison rules. He could hurt you."
The fire in the woman's voice made Spike want to smile as she argued with the mountain of a man he could feel looming over him. He felt her on his right side, the heat from her body bleeding into him from where she was touching him as she leaned over the bed. He got the impression that she was small, but the conviction in her voice when she threatened to wipe the floor with the both of them left no doubt in his mind that she could do exactly that. He mourned the loss of her heat when she moved away, then almost smiled again at the horrified tone of Finn's voice when she ordered him to help.
He wanted to groan in pleasure when a soft cloth started gently wiping his face; he hadn't been clean in so long. The cloth stopped wiping and Spike almost cursed aloud when Finn lied outright. 'Stairs my pale English arse.' He cheered in his head when the woman called him on the lie then sighed inwardly when the cloth started wiping again. 'Maybe she'll do something… help get me out of this. She seems to care.'
Finn cleared his throat and told the truth… sort of. 'Of course, the git left out the part where he shoved his prick halfway down my soddin' throat.' Spike couldn't hold back the wince when Finn suddenly poked him in the ribs. 'Fuck!'
His stomach clenched at the softly spoken words. "Oh. Makes sense."
The cloth left his face, and he could hear her swishing it around in a container of water somewhere near the bed. She turned back to the bed and the words she spoke seared themselves into Spike's brain. He barely felt it when the cloth started swiping at his neck because the next words out of her mouth lanced into him like a spear. "Sometimes you have to make an example of one to ensure control of all."
Spike could feel the tears forming behind his closed eyelids as despair washed over him again. 'She's one of them. I am so completely buggered.'
He vaguely heard her leave the room and come back, but his brain didn't register what was happening until she started talking again. He barely managed to keep from clenching his hands into fists as he heard her scratching down Finn's lies into what could only be his medical chart. He laid there and concentrated on his breathing until they'd both left the room. Only then did he let the tears fall.
XXXX
Xander pulled his phone from his pocket, flipping it open as he made his way down the hall toward the control room. "Harris."
"Right. Be there in a few."
He spun on his toe and headed back the way he'd come. The door to the infirmary was standing open and he stepped quickly through it, calling out, "Buffy?"
He startled when a deep voice spoke from somewhere behind the door. "You Harris?"
He turned and stepped around the door, taking in the large man lounging against a cabinet. "Yeah. And you are?"
The man pushed off the cabinet and held his hand out. Xander's eyes narrowed when he spied the blood covering the man's knuckles. "I'm Riley Finn."
Xander took his hand and shook it firmly then stepped back. "Walsh's kid, right?" Finn nodded. "So how you liking it here so far?"
Riley smiled a smile that made Xander immensely uncomfortable. "It's good. Fun."
Xander nodded as he backed toward the door to the patient rooms. "Fun. Okay. Um… Buffy needs help?"
Riley nodded. "Yeah. Pratt needs x-rays and I'm told you're the go-to man for that."
Xander smiled, doing an excellent job, he thought, of hiding the flinch at the mention of Spike's last name. "Yep, that's me. Xan the X-ray man. I should get a cape or something." He looked toward the open door then back over his shoulder. "You gonna hang around? It's really pretty cool."
Riley shook his head. "No. I've got things to do, but now that you're here, I can go. Make sure you keep an eye on him and cuff him to the bed when you leave. Wouldn't want that dangerous convict to damage our new nurse, now would we?"
Riley turned his back on Xander as he stepped toward the door, and it took all of Xander's self-control to not punch him in the back of the head. "Right. I'll keep him under control. No worries. See you later."
Riley called over his shoulder as he walked quickly down the hall. "I'm sure you will."
XXXX
Buffy scrubbed her face once more then exited the bathroom with a giant sigh. She looked over at the bed and frowned when she saw what looked like tears dripping out of William's eyes. She was about to step closer to investigate when she heard Xander call her name. She stepped to the door of the room, keeping out of sight, and listened to the conversation between the two men in her office.
Her hands clenched into tight fists when Riley said the word 'fun.' 'What kind of sadistic fuckwit thinks 'fun' is beating the shit out of someone way smaller than he is?' She heard what sounded like a sniffle from behind her and turned around. William still hadn't moved, but his breathing seemed faster, more ragged. She walked over to the bed and laid her hand gently on his arm, frowning at what she confirmed were tears streaking down his face. "William? Are you awake?" No response.
She pulled out her penlight and reached to lift his eyelid then jumped back with a gasp when both his eyes flew open, the startling blue orbs full of rage. "Sod off, bitch. Don't you fuckin' touch me. You're just as bad as the wanker what did this to me. Actually, you're worse. You're just gonna fix me up and send me right back to that tosser, aren't you?"
She dropped the penlight back into her pocket and stepped closer to the bed. "I'm not going to hurt you, William."
Xander's voice behind her startled her again. "He goes by Spike, not William." Xander stepped up beside her, smiling weakly down at the man in the bed. "Hey, Spike. Long time no see. You look like shit."
The rage was still churning in his eyes even as Spike smiled faintly. "Feel like shit, Xan. How's Willow? She popped out that sprog yet?"
Xander shook his head. "Not yet, but it's getting close."
Buffy looked between them, confusion settling onto her features. "You two know each other?"
Xander looked over at her. "Yeah. Spike's been here longer than I have. He's the thirty-three day stubborn shit I was telling you about." He waved his hand dramatically in front of his nose. "And holy cheeseballs, does he smell worse now than he did then."
Spike laughed then winced and started coughing. His face was extremely pale when he finally got his breathing under control and muttered, "God, Xan, I wish I was back in that cell. I'd do six months, a year even. It'd be a ruddy walk in the park compared to this."
Xander looked down at him with sad eyes. "What happened to you, man?"
Spike's face screwed into a scowl as he nodded toward Buffy. "Ask the bint. She knows all about it. Apparently has no problem with it, either. She did everythin' but clap the tosser on the back and congratulate him on a job well done."
Buffy's eyes were huge as she clapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head. "No… no… I don't, I mean, I DO have a problem with it, but I needed him to think… Oh god, what Riley did to you is so wrong, Spike. Nobody deserves this, no matter who they are or what they've done. Well… except maybe Riley."
Xander laid his hand gently on her arm and looked down at Spike. "She's one of the good guys, Spike. We know something is going on down in solitary, but we won't be able to get down there to find out what it is unless they think we're okay with it. Buffy was playing Finn to get him to believe that."
Spike looked skeptical but nodded slightly as he glared up at Buffy. "Right. So all that rubbish you were spoutin' 'bout needin' to make an example of me to keep the rest of 'em in line was just that… rubbish?"
Buffy nodded. "Yes. I want to help, and to do that, I have to make Riley believe that I'm on his side or I won't be able to do anything. Can you tell me what's going on down there? Why are there inmates living in those cells? Why did Riley beat the shit out of you?"
Spike smiled at the flash of anger in Buffy's eyes and raised his hand, regretting it immediately as a wave of pain flared through him. He gasped, dropping his hand back to the bed and whispered, "I'll tell you everythin' I know, but first, can you fix me up? I'd really like that bath you mentioned. Don't fancy smellin' like this any longer. I can tell from Xan's face that I don't smell like roses."
Xander chuckled. "Yeah, actually you do, if the roses are on a corpse that's been left to rot in a swamp." He looked over Spike's battered body with a frown. "Can you even move?"
Spike nodded. "Yeah. Think I can manage it with a bit of help."
Buffy shook her head. "Uh-uh. Not until we get x-rays. I know your ribs are cracked, but I want to see how bad the damage is before we risk moving you." She reached out and held his eyelid open as she fished her penlight out of her pocket. "How's your head? You've got a couple of large hematomas on it, one was still bleeding a little, and your nose is broken. Are you nauseated? Can you feel your legs?"
Spike kept still while she flashed the light into his eyes then nodded when she let him go and dropped the penlight back into her pocket. "Head hurts, although that's to be expected when it's been slammed into a concrete wall a few times, and yes, I can feel my legs. Wish I couldn't, though. Also yes, my stomach's queasy, but only 'cause I haven't had a decent meal in an age. Been livin' mostly on water, stale bread, and some sort of vaguely beef flavored gruel, but the only thing I've ingested for at least two days has been my own blood." He looked up at Xander. "How long was I down there?"
Xander closed his eyes as a pained look crossed his face. "Almost three months. You and nine others. Walsh had you moved off the pods in the middle of the night and nobody will tell me why."
Spike closed his eyes. "Yeah. Don't imagine anybody would. It's not good, Xan. Not good at all."
Buffy reached her foot out and released the brakes on the bed. "Let's get you to x-ray and then we'll get you cleaned up and fed. You can tell us about it after that."
Spike smiled as they pushed his bed out of the room and down the hall. "Bossy chit."
