Here is another Faye and Spike fanfic. Who else?
She was making a hell of a noise, but it's not like she could help it. Her movements were slow and uncoordinated. She crashed into a pile of junk that fell to the ground, she closed her eyes, even under her feet the sound seemed far away.
When she turned around Spike was pointing his Jerico at her. She gave a little gasp, startled, and clutched the first aid kit to her chest. Damn silent idiot. Damn blind idiot who didn't seem to recognize her, suddenly his expression changed completely, as if he was seeing a ghost.
"Will you stop aiming at me? Or are you planning to finish me off like a dying horse?" her voice sounded exhausted. She was. She was also drunk, or at least there were traces of alcohol in her system.
"What the hell happened to you?" he asked annoyed and scanning her as he lowered the gun.
"I had a happy argument with an idiot about the right to speak out " she replied with sarcasm. "f you'll excuse me, I'm very tired and want go to sleep."
She made a couple of steps, clumsy and slow, but her legs didn't feel like cooperating on her way to the room. She was going to fall to the ground and was doubtful that she could extend her arms to stop the impact. She closed her eyes, ready to take the hit of her life, and maybe lose a tooth, all for show.
Luckily Spike's chest broke her fall.
"Oooh," Faye said as she sensed the smell of tobacco and something she couldn't identify, invading her every sense. " That was fast."
" Were you planning on kissing the floor?" Spike asked helping her to stand up.
"I doubt I can extend my arms," she whispered against the yellow fabric of the shirt, inhaling his scent again. "You smell so good..."
"Can you walk?" the sound of Spike's heartbeat against her ear seemed to lull her to sleep.
"I guess, " she pulled away from him.
Each wince was worse than the last. Spike, who hadn't left her side, slipped his arm around her waist and almost carried her into the bedroom.
She sat on the bed with the first aid kit still under her arm and placed it on her lap.
"Are you going to stare at me like that all the time?" Faye asked trying to open the damn box, she wasn't able to, the pain was excruciating, she'd have to add a broken wrist to the list.
Spike seemed to notice, because he snatched it out of her hands.
"You're a fucking mess ," Spike mumbled angrily.
"Your voice sounds so loud then...," Faye just wanted him to leave her alone, lick her wounds and sleep until the end of the world came.
"Don't move," he commanded.
"Where do you think I'm going - on a bender?" she grumbled wryly.
Spike disappeared from her sight without another word, but she stood very still, staring at the door, which seemed to ripple.
"First you should wipe off all the blood on your face, " she didn't realize Spike had returned until she heard his voice.
Faye reached out her hand tentatively so Spike could pass her the soaked towel he had brought with him. But he came over to her and squatting down, Spike gently began to run it over her forehead, her cheeks, meticulously wiping the already dried blood from her face. She was incapable of saying anything, except to stare at him in disbelief, his mannerisms were delicate and kind, definitions that in her life she would have dared to put next to Spike. Every time she complained, Spike clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Thank you," she whispered as he set the towel aside.
Spike looked at her seriously, as he examined her face closely.
" Now what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?"
"I didn't do anything!" she protested angrily.
"I see," he mumbled in exasperation looking her up and down again
"Your jacket is soaked with blood, take it off."
"No," she protested. "It's okay."
"Don't be a baby," he retorted. "Take off your jacket."
She gave him an indignant look, but the way he was staring at her made her nervous. So she decided to listen to him. She put her hand to her zipper, but her arms hurt and she gave up the attempt.
"It hurts," she said rubbing her wrist.
"Fuck Faye," he replied throwing his hand to her zipper.
Anyway, she had been trying to avoid that moment. Spike's eyes widened as he saw her t-shirt torn to shreds.
"Faye..." Spike was looking at her with an intense stare and his hands trembled as he pulled away from her.
"Don't look at me like that, " Faye snapped upset, covering herself with one arm. "It's embarrassing enough that you have to help me."
"Are you okay?" he looked genuinely concerned and made her shiver.
"Yeah...," he sighed. "Nothing happened."
"Yeah," her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't want to cry in front of him, she took a deep breath trying to pull herself together and shook her shoulders. "Nothing happened, it was just a horrible night."
" All right... Where's all this blood coming from? Where did you get hurt?" he pulled the jacket away from her shoulders looking for open wounds.
"The blood isn't mine," Faye muttered through her teeth.
Spike looked at her again in that indecipherable way while helping her take off her jacket.
"Do you want to put something else on?" he asked looking in horror at the bruises on her arms.
"Yes, please," she was half naked, covered in blood and terribly tired, she couldn't imagine any worse situation. "Can you bring me another shirt? In the drawers there's got to be some."
Spike stood up, moving over to the closet as she pulled off the tatters of her shirt and finished cleaning herself.
"I cut his throat," Faye finally said looking at the blood stained towel, everything around her seemed blurry, the only vision she was able to focus on was that damn towel. . " He...I couldn't get him off me, he was so much stronger than me..... I had never seen so much blood..."
"He deserved it," he replied earnestly, passing her the shirt.
Faye felt like crying again when she found herself unable to dress herself. Her ribs ached, everything ached.
"Leave it to me," before she could protest Spike was already pulling the T-shirt over her head and helping to put it on. "I have to examine your wrist."
Spike held her arm gently and sighed in frustration. She tried her best not to complain but the truth was that it hurt like hell. Spike bit his lips angrily as he patted along the length of her arm. The bruises looked really shocking in contrast to the pallor of her skin.
"It's not broken," he said as he rifled through the bandages in the kit until he found a new bundle. After placing a piece of metal to keep it straight, he bandaged it tight. "You should hold it up."
She tried to smile as he began to put away the rest of the bandages in the first aid kit. Spike didn't look at her, he was focused on tidying each and every item inside.
"I've got a anti-bruise cream, it's pretty good..." Spike said with his eyes fixed on the box.
He stood up again and left her alone in the room. She flopped down on the bed exhausted, letting sleep overcome her for good.
When Faye opened her eyes again, she was inside the sheets, but she didn't remember taking off her shoes or getting into them. Bringing the hands to her face, she discovered a pair of band-aids over her eyebrow and cheek. The pot of cream was on her bedside table. Faye sat up and spread the cream as best she could over her arm. She got out of bed, she was thirsty and the pain was worse than before she went to sleep.
She went to the kitchen to drink a glass of water. There was a dim light in the living room, Spike was watching TV in the dark. He turned to look at her. He was inscrutable, she couldn't decipher what he was thinking. She smiled tiredly at him, but he didn't move a muscle in his face.
"Did I wake you up?" Spike asked turning down the volume on the TV.
"No, I was thirsty," she replied raising the glass full of water.
She didn't feel like being alone, but she didn't know whether to stay or not.
"How are you?" he asked, offering a hand towards her.
Her heart skipped a beat and she froze. He blinked as if waking from a dream and withdrew his hand.
Faye sat down next to him and picked up the pack of cigarettes from the table, it was hard to maneuver with only one hand. She bit into the cigarette and before she tried to reach for the lighter the flame appeared before her eyes. She smiled frankly and Spike smiled back.
"What are you watching?" she asked full of curiosity.
"Oh," she settled back on the couch as best she could. Spike watched her out of the corner of his eye. She heard him sigh and look back at the screen.
The boxing match broke for the news. They had found the body, Faye felt the air around her thicken, her attacker was a notorious criminal. She could barely hear the broadcaster over the pounding of her heart. He had been put in jail for torturing, raping and murdering six women. He'd escaped a few days ago. Spike reached for the TV remote.
"No," her hand was shaking but she still wouldn't let him change the channel.
Faye didn't realize she was crying until she felt the tears on her lips.
"You don't have to watch this crap," Spike said turning off the TV.
Not sure if she had heard him correctly, Faye was only aware of her heart beating. She tried to fill her lungs with air, but failed.
She couldn't breathe, she put her hands to her chest and dug her nails in, as if she could tear her skin off to make way for oxygen.
"Breathe," Spike held her by the shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "It's all over."
She couldn't speak, couldn't stop crying. She hugged Spike who ran his hands through her hair and placed them on her back. She was choking, she tried to catch her breath again, but all she managed was an agonized whimper. Spike pulled away from her. His confused and panicked expression made her even more frightened.
"Please, Faye, breathe," he cupped her face with both hands. "Don't fuck with me, do it very carefully, slowly."
Spike took a slow breath, not taking his eyes off her. She focused on the small change in hue between his eyes as he tried to mimic Spike's slow, methodical breaths. Tears were still slipping down her face, but she felt herself regaining control. Spike wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled, resting his forehead against hers.
" That' s right," his voice sounded calm. "That's it, a little at a time."
Faye rested her head on Spike's shoulder and closed her eyes, while he kept stroking her hair. Her heartbeat didn't seem to calm down, yet she was able to breathe. She felt Spike wrap his arms around her, pulling her closer. Spike radiated a cozy, pleasant warmth, that comforted her. Faye was grateful for his silence and the way he ran his fingers through her hair. She was grateful he let her cry and that he was there. She let out a barely inaudible "thank you" against his chest. She heard him swallow and laugh nervously. He squeezed her in his arms before releasing her.
"Will you be able to breathe on your own or are you tricking me into giving you mouth-to-mouth?" Spike joked as he gave her one of his unmistakable smiles.
"Ha! You wish you could put your lips on mine," she replied looking sideways at him and plopping down on the back of the couch.
"I quit boxing?" he asked casually turning the TV back on.
"Not a chance, there's a show about cosmetic operations gone wrong on channel 93, put it on."
"I'm not putting that crap on."
"Give me the remote, Spiegel."
"Over my dead body, Romani."
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