Bandages

Buffy gently laid Spike down onto her mother's bed. Now that she had cleaned his various wounds, she had to bandage them up. Spike had been quiet for sometime, and the silence was unnerving to Buffy, it made the situation all too real. "I'm sorry I can't offer you much." "Offer much?" came Spike's confused reply, his tone made Buffy's heart clench; he sounded so surprised, as if he felt that in the last hour she had given him something special. She hadn't given him anything special. She never had. "Blood Spike, but I'll get some pig's blood first thing in the morning." Buffy finished the bandage and stood up. Now she was truly unsure of what to do. She had done all she possible could to help Spike. Until the morning, she was of no use to him. "Why? Why would you -" Spike's face flashed with hurt, he seemed to know exactly what she was referring to. "Shame on you Buffy. Why does a man do what he must for her, to be hers? To be the kind of man would never..." His voice trailed off and he lowered his face in shame. "To be a kind of man." Slowly he looked back up at her, tears falling down his face. "And she will look upon him with forgiveness, and everyone will forgive and love. And he will be loved." He finally broke down into tears, and very suddenly with his right hand, tore his nails down his left arm. Buffy ran towards him and yanked his right hand away. Tears streaming down her face too. When Spike stopped protesting, she let his arm fall. She briefly looked at the cut. It was nothing serious, but it was quite deep, and suddenly she was thankful she hadn't redressed him. Spike had lost so much blood that her Slayer blood had been absorbed straight away. He didn't have the blood to lose, which meant as soon as he did, blood was going to come pouring out onto those bandages. In that moment she realized Spike's injuries weren't just some fighting after-effects. They were serious; it was going to be a while. His words haunted her, floating around in her head, repeating themselves over and over again. She found she simply couldn't be in the same room as him any longer. She slammed her bedroom door shut, her breaths came in uneven gasps, and she glanced at the clock. It was one in the morning. She collapsed onto her bed and let an uneasy sleep take her away.

She knocked gently on her mother's room door, and she heard no response. It made her heart sink; she nudged the door open with her side and entered with a large mug of warmed up pig's blood. She turned to Spike's form. To her surprise he was, apart from his head, completely covered in bedcovers and was turned away from her. Buffy guessed the situation had finally sunk in, and she wondered if the bath was the main reason he was now covering himself up and turning away from her. "Spike? I-I brought you some blood." Spike twitched, and she could tell the smell of blood was calling him, and it was his sheer will of shame and embarrassment that was keeping him still. "Spike, I-" Spike shook his head; slowly he sat up and turned to face her. The look in his eyes went straight to Buffy's heart and she closed her eyes against the emotional onslaught. She quickly opened them up again though, and gently handed him the mug. His blue eyes literally lit up when he looked down into the thick redness. Buffy stared fixedly at the visible bandages, curious to see how much blood he lost. Spike gulped the blood down in record speed and, the effect was almost instantaneous. Large patches of red colored his white bandages and Spike growled in both pain and annoyance. Buffy found herself wishing desperately that blood didn't get on the bed. That much blood would be a nightmare to wash out. The cut he had made earlier suddenly caught her attention; a rivet of red streamed down his arm. Spike turned his head; his sharp pink tongue lapped it up, licking the cut area a few times before Spike moved away from it. When he did it had completely healed. He seemed even more broken now than when she had put him in the bath. His eyes were fixed downwards, and his shoulders were slumped. Despite Spike's obvious embarrassment, Buffy felt she couldn't just stand there and watch. She quietly walked over to him and began to run her fingers through his hair. Spike resisted momentarily, before letting out a sigh and leaning back into her frame. His head lolling back on her shoulder. He closed his eyes; Buffy had thought it was in comfort, for his muscles had relaxed and his body had gone floppy. But then tears seeped through his closed eyes and Buffy realized it was because he couldn't look her in the eye. He was too ashamed. Ashamed of himself.

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Lisi the slayer