Buffy could hear voices.
“We have to take her to the hospital,” a male voice said. His accent was distinctly British.
Another male voice sounded. American. “Yeah.” A pause. A sigh. “Yeah, I know. I’ll make the call and meet you there, alright?”
And suddenly, she was off the ground. A strong muscled arm eased under her legs and another slipped under to support her back.
“See you soon,” the American said. Buffy listened to his footsteps fade away.
She wasn’t sure why she wasn’t more panicked. Or worried. She knew she should be. And rightfully so. Memories of being attacked that night were slowly returning. Her mind was fuzzy. Too fuzzy. She felt stuck somewhere between the moment of oblivion and awareness.
Buffy was having trouble getting her eyes open. She inwardly commanded them to. But that didn’t work. It never did.
The arms around her tightened slightly, then loosened. The man holding her muttered something under his breath; then his lips were at her ear. “Pet? Can you hear me?” He paused as though waiting for her response. Buffy willed her eyes open.
They stayed closed.
Oblivion won. Darkness pulled her under and everything disappeared.
**
She woke up to flowers. Pink roses wrapped with a bow of white ribbon laid directly in her line of vision. Blinking sluggishly, a card next to the flowers caught her eye. On its front, ‘Get Well’ was spelt in large obnoxious colors.
Turning to lie on her back, she became aware of the overpowering medicinal smell. The white blanket covering her was making her skin itch.
Sitting up, Buffy blinked at the sight of her mom curled up, asleep in the visitor’s chair.
Buffy glanced down at her right hand and stared dumbly at the IV embedded in her flesh. She looked back at the roses. Pink. An inane thought that she had known, once, what each rose color meant went through her head. She couldn’t remember what pink signified anymore. She really missed her grandma Olga.
“Buffy?”
She looked up at the voice. Her father had come into the room without her realizing it.
“Buffy!” His relief was palpable. He rushed to her side and engulfed her in a hug. Joyce, disturbed from sleep by her husband’s exclamation, was immediately at Buffy’s other side.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Joyce said, tears in her eyes.
“Mom?”
“We were so worried-”
“You wouldn’t wake up-”
“The doctors didn’t know-”
“Mom? Dad? Breathing room?”
“Oh!” Joyce and Giles backed off a few scant inches.
Buffy rubbed her forehead and was surprised to find a gauze wrapping. “My head?”
Joyce reached out and tenderly touched the gauze. “You have a concussion. When you didn’t wake up we …” She looked at away. Giles laid a comforting hand on her arm.
Buffy stared at her parents; their faces were drawn with worry and fatigue.
“How long have I been here?”
“Three days,” Giles said softly.
“Oh.”
Buffy felt like she was submerged. Her emotions were thick and slow. Everything was so incredibly distant.
“Do you remember what happened?”
“Yes. After I left the Bronze a man…”
He grabbed her…
“a man…”
He made her feel helpless…
“he grabbed me…”
Defenseless…
“and…”
All her training…
“and…”
She almost died.
Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her mother had her in her embrace, tears streaking her own cheeks. Joyce whispered meaningless noise into her sobbing daughter’s ear. Giles clutched Buffy’s left hand, brushing away the wetness from his face.
**
Buffy was allowed to go home the next day; after a lengthy interview from the police:
No she didn’t know the man that attacked her.
Could she remember what he looked like? Well, other than the fangs…
Ha. That was a joke. Obviously…
Did he assault her? Well, clearly. Concussion.
Oh.
Assault.
No.
But the doctors already checked for that.
Who saved her?
Blue eyes.
Did she remember anything else?
No. No that’s all.
**
The next few days were enough to drive Buffy insane. Everyone was treating her like glass. She assumed her parents were afraid of setting her off into another breakdown, but Willow’s compassionate stares and careful think-before-she-speaks routine was seriously getting old.
“Will, I swear to god, I’m fine.”
Willow’s jumped guiltily. “What? Of course you’re fine. I know that. You’re totally with the fineness. I mean who wouldn’t be fine only a few days after being physically attacked?”
Buffy raised an eyebrow at her red headed friend. Willow crumpled under the stare. “I’m sorry if I’m acting all weird … but Buffy … what happened …”
“What happened is something that happened. It sucks, yeah, but I’ll get over it. But if you don’t start acting normal I think I might flip out. My parents’ wigginess is totally enough for me to handle right now.” Buffy sighed and leaned back against her headboard. “I mean, you’d think they were punishing me or something, with the earlier curfews and not being allowed to walk outside alone. Overprotective much?”
Willow stared at her left hand. The nails that she’d been painting were almost dry. “Well … it was pretty awful … the phone call … and seeing you like that. I can’t really blame them for being worried.”
Buffy sighed again. “I know. I get it. It just gets to me. Sorry.”
“No apologies need here. I’ll try to act less weirdsome – consider all weirdsomeness totally eradicated.”
“Weirdsomeness? I like it. We should totally add it to our dictionary.”
Willow grinned. “Making a note of it as we speak. Hey, do you want to go to a movie or something tonight?”
“A movie? But it’s Saturday. We always Bronze it on Saturdays.”
Biting her lip, Willow glanced away from Buffy’s sharp eyes. “I know. But … I thought maybe you’d prefer to do that rather than go to the Bronze.”
“Hey, I thought there’d be no weirdness.”
“There isn’t!”
“This is what I call weirdness. Let’s Bronze it up, Will. Come on. I’m okay. Really.”
Willow stared at her best friend for a long moment before nodding her head. “Okay. But I’m walking home with you. No buts!”
Grinning, Buffy stood up from the bed and opened her closet. “Come on and help me decide what to wear.”
**
“Oz!” Willow squealed in excitement as her boyfriend’s band came onto the stage.
“You didn’t tell me he was playing tonight,” Buffy admonished.
“I know … I didn’t want you to feel like you had to come out. Hey Oz! Oz! Buffy, he sees us! He’s waving!”
Buffy laughed. “Yeah. I see that.”
Oz’s band played for a half an hour. Willow and Buffy stayed front row and centre, calling out encouragements to the short red head. At the end of the set, Oz jumped off the stage and laid a searing kiss on Willow’s lips.
“Great job up there, Oz,” Buffy complimented when the couple came up for air.
Oz nodded his thanks. “Good to see you, Buffy.”
That was something Buffy liked about Oz. He was to the point; where a single sentence encompassed so many things.
Willow was cooing how she was Oz’s number one fan when Buffy saw him.
A flash of bleached hair disappeared out the back door of the club.
“Uh, guys … I have to go to the washroom. I’ll be right back.”
Attention immediately caught, Willow asked, “are you alright?”
“Completely. I’ll only be a minute.”
Slipping through the throng of people, Buffy was out the back door a minute later. She walked up and down the alleyway, but he was gone.
“Stupid,” Buffy muttered to herself. She was about to go inside when a voice sounded behind her.
“Were you looking for me?”
And there he was.
The man that had rescued her.
“You …” Buffy trailed off, suddenly unsure what to say.
He smiled and Buffy felt her stomach swoon. “Me.”
“I … you … saved me.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose I did.”
Buffy blushed. “I just wanted to say thanks. So, um, thank you.”
“Was a pleasure,” he said smoothly, lighting a cigarette.
“I’m Buffy, by the way, if you were wondering … or not …”
“Spike.”
Buffy squinted. “Really?”
“Hey! No making fun of the name of the bloke that saved your life.” His warm eyes let Buffy know he really wasn’t offended.
“Okay, okay. Sorry.”
Spike glanced away from her down the alley. “I should get going. Glad to see you’re doing well, Buffy.”
“My mom would love to meet you. She’s really all about finding out who rescued me and took me to the hospital. I think she wants to feed you and maybe adopt you.” Crimson faced, Buffy wished a hole would appear and swallow her up. She just couldn’t stop babbling.
Spike grinned, his eyes alight with laughter. “We’ll see, pet. Stay safe.”
And he was gone.
Thoroughly mortified, Buffy reentered the Bronze.
**
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hey guys. So this chapter is so late because I rewrote this chapter so many times ... I was never happy with it until now. I must've wrote and delete it a dozen times. I like it now, and I hope you will too.
Chapter End Notes:
Love it? Hate it? Wish I rewrote it again?