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A Friend in Need by slaymesoftly
 
Six
 
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CHAPTER SIX
 
By the time Buffy had made some stops to buy easily-stored food and bottled water to take to the crypt and spent some time with Willow looking up any information the computer could give them on Ben, it was getting later in the afternoon and she was becoming anxious to get Joyce out of the hospital.  She’d already had Dawn’s school give her a message to go straight to the Magic Box. What they’d learned of Ben’s life sounded pretty ordinary until a few months ago, when he’d suddenly requested a transfer in order to do his internship and residency at Sunnydale’s hospital. 
 
“Just about the time I had my first fight with Glory,” Buffy said.
 
“Coincidence?”
 
“On the Hellmouth? Are you serious?”  Buffy stared at Willow until she shrugged with embarrassment.
 
“There’s a first time for everything,” she said, then sighed. “But, yeah. Evil much more likely than coincidence.”
 
“The question is, is Ben evil, or is he just at Glory’s mercy? How does she make him do stuff for her? And why does he do it?”
 
Willow frowned. “Well, if she’s been hiding in him all along, then he must be tired of it. If she goes back to her own dimension, maybe that makes him free to be just Ben?”
 
Buffy sighed. “Makes sense. Which means, he probably can’t be trusted even when he’s not Glory. It’s in his best interest to help her find the key so she can leave.”  She stood up straight and stretched. “All the more reason to keep Mom and Dawn away from him. They trust him.”
 
Willow nodded. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”
 
“Scooby meeting, 8:00. Will you call Xander? I guess Anya will tell him, but just in case...”
 
“Sure. We’ll be there.”
 
“Thanks Will.  See you later.”
 
~~~~~~~
 
 
When Buffy got to the hospital, Joyce was sitting in a wheelchair, dressed and ready to leave her room. She smiled at Buffy’s obvious relief.
 
“The surgeon said it was fine for me to go home. They changed the dressing, checked my staples, and said it looks great.  I have to take it easy, of course, so you and Dawn will have to wait on me for a while. I’m only allowed to get up to go to the bathroom and walk around enough to keep my insides working.”
 
“Uh, right. Bathroom.”  Suddenly Spike’s crypt was beginning to seem like a really bad idea.
 
“Is something wrong, Buffy?”
 
“Uh, no, Mom. Of course not. Nothing’s wrong. What could be wrong?”  Buffy looked around the room nervously. “We should get going.  Have you seen Ben today?”
 
“Ben? Oh, you mean that handsome young doctor.” Joyce smiled, seeming to have forgotten what Buffy had told her about Ben. “Does Riley have competition for your affections?”
 
“Yeah, sorta, but—” Buffy cut herself off before she said something she really didn’t want to even be thinking about.  “No. I just meant... he’s usually here and I just wanted to make sure he was doing what I asked him to.”
 
“What was that?” Joyce frowned, her mother’s intuition seeing right through Buffy’s attempts to be casual.
 
“To stay away from you,” Buffy said, getting behind the chair and beginning to push. “Do I need to sign you out or something?”
 
“I don’t think so. I signed all the release papers, and I have my meds and my instructions in my purse.  I’m all set.” Joyce patted her purse and the overnight bag sitting on her lap. “I’m sure I could walk out of here. This is so silly.”
 
“It’s a rule, Mom. Even I know that. Nobody leaves a hospital under their own power.”  She pushed down the hall as quickly as she could without appearing to be running away with a patient. She fretted impatiently in front of the elevators, sighing in relief when it finally opened – only to reveal Ben getting ready to step out.
 
“Buffy! I was just coming to see your mother. Where are you taking her?”
 
“She’s been released. I’m taking her... out.”
 
“Will you be taking her home?”
 
“Eventually,” Buffy said, pushing the chair past him and reaching for button to close the doors.  Ben put his hand on the door to stop it.
 
“I’ll just ride down with you,” he said, sweat beginning to break out on his forehead. 
 
“I don’t think so!” Buffy pulled his hand off the door with ease, shoving it and him away. “Don’t follow us, Ben,” she warned as she watched him begin to quake again.  He didn’t respond, just ran toward a closet as he had before.
 
“She’s coming!” he gasped as he disappeared.
 
The doors slid shut and the elevator dropped. It felt like forever before it hit the lobby floor and Buffy could wheel Joyce out into the gathering dusk. She was just trying to decide if it would be safe to leave Joyce while she went to get the car, when Spike stepped out from the shadows behind the entrance columns.
 
One look at Buffy’s frightened face and he held out his hand.  “Keys.”
 
She tossed him the keys and watched as he moved almost faster than human eyes could follow. He was back with the car in only moments, leaving the engine running as he jumped out to help Buffy get Joyce into the back seat.  They had just closed the door on her when Glory burst out of the hospital’s main entrance.
 
“There you are, Slayer.  I’m getting tired of playing with you. Where is my damn Key?”
 
Spike stepped between Buffy and the hellgod, saying, “Get Joyce out of here. I’ll catch up later.”
 
Buffy didn’t argue, just ran around and got into the driver’s seat. As she put the car in gear, she saw Spike throw the wheelchair at Glory, who caught it in midair and threw it back.  Buffy whimpered a little as she drove off, hoping Spike would figure out how strong Glory was before she dusted him.
 
“What was that all about?” Joyce said, turning to look out the rear window. “Is Spike going to be all right?  Wasn’t that Glory?”
 
“I hope so, and yes.” 
 
“We’re not going home, are we?” Joyce asked, her tone suddenly weary.
 
“No, Mom, we’re not. Glory already knows where we live. I’m sure that’s why Ben asked if I was taking you home. We’ll go to the Magic Box right now, and then... I don’t know. I was going to take you and Dawn to Spike’s crypt again, but....” Buffy rested her head on the steering wheel as she waited for the light to change, visions of Glory waving off vampire dust and dragging Dawn off by her hair chasing themselves through her brain.
 
~~~~~~~~
 
Once Joyce was resting comfortably on a pile of mats in the training room, Dawn sitting on the floor beside her and doing her homework, Buffy went back into the main room and sat at the table.
 
“Are we doing to have to close early and maybe lose customers?” Anya asked, her expression unhappy.
 
“No, Anya. You may remain at the cash register until the normal closing time.” Giles sighed as he sat down beside Buffy.  “I presume you’re having brought your mother and sister with you means there have been more problems?”
 
“You might say that.  I left Spike playing wheelchair catch with Glory in the hospital’s receiving area.  I hope he got away from her okay.”
 
“Wheelchair catch?”
 
“As in they were throwing them at each other – not sitting in them.”
 
“Spike is quite... inventive, I believe. I’m sure he will make an escape as soon as he knows you are out of danger.”  Giles frowned. “Although, if Glory reverts to her human form, he could be incapacitated by the chip before he can get away.”
 
Buffy bit her lip, but decided there were some things Giles didn’t need to know just yet.
 
“He’ll deal with it,” she said shortly. “If he’s not dust already.”  She stood up and walked to the front door, staring up and down the street. When she’d spent fifteen minutes pacing around the small interior of the shop, and Anya had begun glaring daggers at her, she yanked open the door.
 
“Where are you going?”
 
“I don’t know. Out. To look for Spike, maybe? He’s supposed to be here by now. I told him to come early to talk to—Oh my God!” 
 
Buffy disappeared from their sight, only to stagger back in a few minutes later, a barely-conscious Spike draped over her shoulder.  Giles ran to support the vampire on the other side as they guided him to the training room and laid him out on a mat.
 
Joyce let out a gasp as she caught a glance at Spike’s battered face and torn clothing.  Dawn whimpered and approached his seemingly unconscious body.
 
“Buffy?  What happened to him? Is he going to be okay?”
 
“He isn’t dust, so he’ll be fine,” Buffy said, sounding very much like she was trying to convince herself.  “I just need to get some blood into him.”
 
“We don’t keep blood here in the Magic Box,” Anya said primly. “We don’t want vampires for customers.”
 
Giles rolled his eyes at her, while Buffy and Dawn glared.  “I believe the shop down the street is probably still open.  I’ll go get some blood.”  Ignoring Anya’s complaints, he took some cash from the register and hurried out the door to the nearby butcher shop.
 
“Did this happen because of me?” Joyce’s voice was shaky and full of concern.
 
“Only partly, Mom. It happened because I asked him to come back and help me. If he hadn’t been there, I would have been the target.  I never meant for him to take her on by himself, though. I thought we’d fight her together.”
 
“Like a slayer-vampire tag team,” Dawn contributed, still watching the inert vampire with concern.
 
“Something like that,” Buffy murmured, her hand hovering over Spike’s chest as if trying to decide where it might be safe to touch him.  No matter where she looked, he was bruised or cut, and from the way his shirt was torn, it looked like Glory might have tried to dig his heart out rather than put a stake through it.
 
“Holy, trashed vampire, Batman!”  Xander’s exclamation as he came into the training room was the first indication that he and Willow and Tara had arrived.  Buffy looked up, her eyes going, not to Willow, but to Tara. 
 
“I don’t know what to do for him. Except give him blood. Giles went to get it.”
 
“Well, why don’t we get him cleaned up a bit?” Tara said, turning to go into the kitchen. She returned quickly with a pan of warm water and some soft cloths.  She started to wipe the blood off Spike’s face, then noticed Buffy’s frown and handed her the washcloth. “Here, why don’t you do it?”
 
Buffy nodded and began to gently rinse the blood away from the cuts and bruises, making it possible to see how badly Spike was injured. He had a big gash on the back of his head, one eye swollen shut, his nose was crooked, his lip were split, and he had a bruise on his chin.  Taking a pair of scissors that Anya handed her, Buffy cut away the remains of his tee shirt and began cleaning the gaping wound in his chest. One arm was awkwardly bent, and there was blood caking one leg of his jeans. Tara silently picked up the scissors and began to slice the jeans open to expose the laceration on his left calf. She reached for one of the cloths and dipped it into the now-pink water.
 
“Do I want to know what did this to him?” Xander asked, looking like he might be sick any minute.
 
“Glory,” Buffy said, concentrating on trying to clean the blood away from the chest wound without making it worse. “Where is Giles with that blood?” she muttered, worried that the wounds had stopped bleeding, but didn’t seem to be closing.
 
“It’s right here.” Giles’s voice preceded him into the room. “I got several quarts of it, just in case.”
 
“I think I’d like to go to the bathroom now,” Joyce said. “Dawn, will you help me please?”
 
“Why don’t we all go into the shop and allow Buffy to feed Spike.” Giles began to herd everyone from the training room, watching over his shoulder as Buffy tried to find a way to get the blood into the unconscious vampire without pouring it all over him. 
 
When everyone had gone, she dipped her finger into the blood and rubbed it on his lips. “Come on, Spike, it’s not the good stuff, but it’s better than nothing.” She dipped her finger again and slipped it inside his mouth, making a little pouch in his cheek.  With her other hand, she tipped the container so that a small amount of blood ran into his slack mouth and pooled in his cheek.
 
She snatched her finger out just in time as his fangs came down and he snarled, swallowing the blood without opening his eyes.
 
“Whoa there, William. Don’t bite the hand that’s trying to feed you.”  Buffy quickly brought the container of blood to his lips, watching in sick fascination as he tried to sink his fangs into the plastic. She kept it tilted up so the blood ran into his mouth, and he began to swallow it in great gulps.  When the container was empty, she took it away and watched him for other signs of life.
 
He gave a soft sigh, fading back to his human face, but giving no other indication of awareness as he remained corpse-like on the mat.  Buffy sank back on her heels, staring at his face and biting her lip.  She was trying to decide if she was imaging the wounds were beginning to close, when she heard Xander’s voice.
 
“So, what’s the what with fangface? Are you his go-to-girl whenever he’s in trouble? Last time he showed up on our doorstep, he was starving.”
 
“He’s here because I asked him to help me,” Buffy said, shooting Xander an irritated glance. “Glory did this to him while I was getting away from her with Mom.”
 
“Oh. So he’s on our side? Guess that explains the dirty look he’s giving me, then.”
 
Buffy’s head whipped around to find that Spike was, in fact, glaring at Xander. His gaze shifted to Buffy and he managed to croak, “Are you and Mum all right?”
 
“We’re fine. A whole lot better than you are.  Why didn’t you run?”
 
“Soddin’ bitch had scabby little minions, came out of nowhere and kept trying to trip me.  Was too outnumbered to do much else than bite as many as I could reach, and then she got her hands on me....”
 
“Should I be jealous?” Buffy whispered to him as she opened another container of pig blood.  His answering smirk was all the proof she needed that he was recovering, and she let herself relax.  “Can you hold this, or do I need to hold it for you?” she asked in a louder tone of voice.  To her surprise, Xander came around behind Spike and lifted his shoulders off the mat so that he was almost sitting up.  Spike gave him a startled look, but opened his mouth so that Buffy could begin pouring blood into it again.
 
As Spike gulped down his meal, Xander watched in fascination. “Man, you could ace a chugging contest.  I think I see a lot of free beer in our future.”
 
Our future?” Spike shook his head when Buffy offered to open another container, keeping his eyes on Xander who had lowered him to the mat once he’d stopped swallowing. “In your dreams.”
 
“Well, yeah. You’re going to need a... an assistant. Somebody to lure the marks in.”  He grinned as Spike scoffed.  “Welcome back, by the way. Not that anybody missed you, but....”
 
“Quit while you’re ahead, Xander,” Buffy said, relieved that the two seemed to have fallen right back into the mutual bantering that they’d indulged in the previous year.  Those exchanges of verbal insults had never resulted in anything but more insults, and they seemed to be picking up right where they’d left off. She’d always suspected they’d bonded over a mutual dislike for Angel and were just too stubborn to admit they didn’t hate each other.
 
Spike shifted uncomfortably, his knitting bones and the still-visible wound on his torso providing their own level of pain even as his body tried to heal itself.
 
“What’s wrong? Do you need more blood?”  Buffy’s obvious concern made him smile, forgetting for the moment that Xander was in the room.
 
“No, love. All I need right now is some rest. Body needs some time to pull itself together.  Pig blood is all well and good, but it’s not going to work as fast as the good stuff.” He peered at her hopefully, sighing when she stood up with her hands on her hips.
 
“I am not feeding you human blood! Deal with it.”
 
He nodded and closed his eyes. “Right you are, Slayer. Give us a little time to ‘deal’, yeah?” He immediately became still. Only the rare rise and fall of his chest gave any indication that he wasn’t an unanimated body.
 
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