Chapter Text
Summer was coming, and the sun was going down later and later every day, and Spike felt the minutes get longer as he waited. Visiting hours were only from 2-6. In a few days he wouldn’t be allowed to visit her at all. Not like he couldn’t break in or something. But she wouldn’t like that.
“Would you, pet?” They all took turns visiting her, usually. Willow had been letting him see her alone the last few days, knowing that they would be the last few days he could see her until…well, until she woke up. And she would, of course. No way the Slayer, strongest in a hundred and more years goes out like this. “Isn’t that right? Asleep for forty seven days, you’ll be itching for some good fights when you wake up, Slayer. Lots of Big Bads out there now, just waiting for you and your pointy stick to come out and play in Sunnydale. ‘Course there’s good out here, too. That’s why you should come back, really, not for all the Big Bads, that was stupid.” God, he couldn’t shut his big gob. He wished so hard she’d just tell him to shut up. “Lil Bit’s been missing you rotten. But she’s been doing her schoolwork and such. Can’t wait to complain about the new Sunnydale High to you, I think. And Willow and her bird, they’re here a lot. But you know that, I guess. They’ve all been telling you the same thing, I suppose. Hearing the same stories all day, love, sorry about that, again.” He thought he saw her left eye twitch for a moment. But he always did. Spike was always seeing some eye twitch or some hand pulse. It was always wishful thinking, just like today.
“Haven’t worked up to telling you how much I’ve missed you, though. Mostly cause you can’t punch me in the head and that seems a bit unfair to you.” The vampire sighed and ran his hands through his bleached head.
“Guess you’ll owe me one of those then, though. Slayer, it ain’t right, you being here all sleepy for weeks. Not when it was me who missed that big guy going for you. If I’d have been half the fighter I brag about being…if I’d have been I don’t know a little more quick, a bit more ready, you’d be awake right now punching me in the head as it should be.” He felt his voice break a little and he moved to sit next to her, on the bed. Her hands were still warm. Her hair was still ever as shiny. He could almost convince himself she really were just asleep. “Done a lot of wrong to you, love. Been all kinds of evil, showed you the worst of me in every dark light and I was proud to do it; proud to be the Big Bad inciting the chaos and pulling the big punches. I’ve hated you and I’ve loved you in a lot of bad ways. You’ve wanted me dead and gone for some time now, and you’ve been right. Made a lot of your bad moments worse, love. But I know a lot about good, from you, mostly. You and your damn white hats making the rest of us evil look like they evil we are. Or were, maybe. You’ve treated me like I could be good. Can you hear me? I never even considered it until you put that daft bit in my head. Bloody Slayer, you’ve ruined me. In a way that I think I need to fix. When I get back, I’ll prove to you, Buffy, when you’re awake next time. I’ve had 47 days to think about how I could make a little right, love. I’ll be back, can you hear me? I’ll be back.”
Spike felt his breathlessness for the first time in a hundred years. He had to do it. For her. And for himself somewhere. He had to get a soul.