It's Time

Round and round and round and round and round...

Spike was laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was following the patterns the textured drop-panels made with his eyes. Buffy had gone out into the hallway to talk to Angel, leaving him alone.

So by no one. No, no, one, seven, four. No one here. Round and round and upside down. The roof fall down. Crash, smash. No more.

Spike didn't know where he was, or why he had to stay in the bed. His clothes had been taken from him and he was wearing a green gown. A lady dressed in pink had come into the room many times, asking him how he was feeling and writing something down in a chart.

One time she had come into the room and he got a haircut with electric scissors. It had tickled. She had taken a big bowl of his hair away. Then she had come back and drawn on his head with a marker. It had tickled, too.

"Lonely, alonely, all by my loneness," Spike said quietly to himself. "No one loves Spike. Spike no one loves." Buffy entered the room again and he looked over at her. "Little Buffy, no one loves Spike. Spike, my name is Spike."

"That's not true," Buffy told him. She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. "A lot of people love you."

"Who, who, monkeys go that?" Spike asked.

"Well, Drusilla loves you," Buffy answered. "And Angel."

"Little Buffy, big bad Slayer?" Spike said. "Little, bad, big, soft, soft, soft like my blanket."

"Yes, Spike," Buffy replied.

The lady in pink came in. "It's time," she said, walking over to the side of the bed Buffy was sitting on.

Spike's eyes widened when he saw her take the cap off a big needle. He felt Buffy grab his arm tightly and he became afraid. "No, no, no, no, no. Let me go away. Bye, bye. Don't hurt me, me. Hurt is bad, hurt. Don't wanna bloody hurt."

He started to thrash, trying to break away from Buffy. She moved and pinned him partially to the bed with her body. "Quickly," she ordered.

"Owie, boo-boo, owie!" Spike yelled. "Hurts, hurts, leave me alone, away, go, go. NO!"

The lady in pink stuck the needle in his arm and he screamed. "NOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Then the hurt stopped and he suddenly felt very tired. "He should be out in a minute or two," the lady in pink said before she left the room.

Buffy let go of Spike and sat back down on the edge of the bed. He looked at her with frightened eyes. "Home, home. Take Spike home. Home with blanket and soft, soft. Daddy is home is. Story home with Daddy."

"Shh," Buffy said, reaching forward to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "You can go home soon."

"Scared, scary. Wanna go away," Spike said, crying harder. "Away, away. Like to go swimming."

Buffy moved around beside him on the bed and pulled him against her. He pressed his face against her chest, wrapping one arm around her waist. "Take Spike bye. Wanna go bye. Bye, die. Don't wanna die. Die, die, die, die. Bad to die. Daddy where be you? Take Spike with, take."

"Shh, it's ok, Spike," Buffy cooed. She rested her cheek on the right side of his bald head, careful not to smudge the markings on the left. "I'll take you home. Shh."

Spike began to calm down as the heavy dosage of drugs took effect. His eyes began to droop. "Don't leave, love Buffy. Buffy love. Don't go. Don't go. Dru goed and not loved Spike no more, more. Buffy love Spike, no one go bye."

"I won't," Buffy promised. She kissed his head, silent tears running down her face. "I won't leave you."

"Sweepy. So, so, sweepy," Spike murmured, his eyes falling shut. "Spike go sweepy. Love my Slayer."

"I love you, too."

Buffy's whisper was the last thing he heard before he went to sleep.

End