Open

[idolpire]

who: Spike and whomever
what: Getting his chip removed
when: 14 July and a few days after
where: Hospital, City
warnings: Likely language and possible violence/injury/blood. Will update if needed.

He'd been feeling off the last few days. Random spurts of pain niggling through his brain. He knew it was the chip, that pain was too familiar not to recognize, but he couldn't figure out the whys of it. He hadn't hurt anyone -- not recently. Not since their little night out on the town, and even then, he'd just been cleaning up after John, really. Lately, though, he'd been trying to keep himself out of trouble.

And it had been bloody boring. But the odd twinges and sparks of pain were nothing compared to the night he was out picking up a few snacks and was suddenly crippled with pain, dropping the bag he carried and screaming as he fell to his knees. Blood dripped steadily out of his nose, but he barely noticed it through the fireworks happening behind his eyes, bubbling in his brain. He heard voices calling out in concern, someone calling for a guard and a doctor, then there was, blissfully, nothing. Quiet. Unconsciousness was a lovely thing sometimes.

He woke up just before the sun started to peek over the horizon of the moon the next morning, assured by the nurses as he started to panic that the windows were specially treated, that they were aware of his 'condition' and he'd been roomed appropriately. He still flinched as the first rays crept over the bed and onto his blanket-clad foot, but there was no heat behind it. No sizzling sound of sun on impure flesh, no smoke drifting up to warn him of the flames to come. Right. Well. He still wanted the curtain closed. Habit, and all. Which then led him to asking why he was hooked up to machines and bags.

Apparently his chip had been malfunctioning. They couldn't rightly say if it was his trip through the portal or his mishap with that bloody chalice messing with his mind earlier, but either way, the chip had been degrading and would have killed him proper if left in. So they'd removed it.

It took him a moment of just staring at them before it sunk in, and he had to test that theory, leading him to lean over and pinch the arm of the doctor talking to him. Hard. Nothing. Well, nothing for him; the doctor had been pretty offended until he'd apologized and explained. But still. No chip. No leash. No bloody snipped bollocks anymore. He was smiling as he listened to the doctor telling him a bunch of medical hooplah that he didn't give a rat's ass about. No, what he wanted to do was to get out of here, but he was, unfortunately, stuck in place until the sun went down. Considering the news he'd just gotten, he was remarkably calm about that.

Why not? The Big Bad was back, after all. What was a day of waiting compared to that?

He'd wait in the hospital for the rest of the day, but come sundown, Spike was a free vampire. Finally. And he had an urge to do more than toe the line...



[*note: feel free to msg/pm me about any ideas or plans for bumping into him before/during his little collapse, or in the hospital, or afterward.]

Comments

Closed to John Wick

[idolpire]

[He'd been trying to figure out what to pull out of all the things attached to him that wouldn't set the bloody alarms off when he woke up, interrupted from his task by the nurse coming in to fuss over him. He scowled at her when she informed him that his 'friend' had been messaged.]

What 'friend'? I don't have any friends.

[She gave him a scolding look, tucking him back in and swatting at his hand when he tried to untuck himself.]

There was no contact listed for you when you came in, but your name came up as someone else's 'to contact in case of emergency'. John Wick? We gave him a call as soon as you came in, before your surgery. Don't worry, dear. Everything went swimmingly. You'll be out in no time, especially with that accelerated healing of yours. We'll just bring you in some Type O instead of Jell-o, mm? I bet you'll like that, won't you?

[She was matronly in that way that grandmothers are; a little on the plus size and smiling too much with short curled hair and glasses and that smell of baby powder and cat food. He wanted to break her neck. Instead, he slunk down further on the bed and tugged his blankets up.]

I don't have any bloody friends.

[Mumbled more to himself than anything, and he was rewarded with a pat on his knee and a 'there there' from Nurse Granny before she left, turning the lights out for him and his creature of darkness ways.

And yet he knew that he was in for some kind of proper scolding when his 'friend' got the bloody message. Wonderful.]

[adiuvio]

[John doesn't waste time driving to the hospital. He walks down the hall with his head down, fists clutched into loose fists, his face grim. People move out of his way. There might as well be a dark cloud hanging over his head, threatening to burst at any moment.

He hates hospitals. Always has. Always will. All he can see, smell, and taste, is the sick. Slow, and consumptive. More cruel than anything John could inflict with his own two hands. In Helen's last months he'd spent more time in the hospital than their own home. In some ways, it had been harder on him than her. She was the strong one.

John can't help but think of her as he looks for Spike, remembering her stillness, and her pale, as he watched over her in those final moments, comatose, surrounded by medicine and machinery. Peaceful, but still suffering, because of John's selfishness. His inability to let go, even after she had.

Part of him hadn't wanted to come. Not so soon. It feels like yesterday that he'd lost her, not here, but somewhere close enough. He's afraid of what he might see when he pushes open the door to Spike's room.

Just when John thought he had no one left to lose, no one who could be taken from him, he'd gone and made himself a friend. Someone else to inflict his curse upon. He'll never learn. That's John's curse upon himself.

He takes a breath and steps inside, closing the door behind him, and slowly lifts his eyes to look at the bed. At the man he'd shared drinks, laughter, and a bed with, more than once. If John looks afraid, it's because he is.]

Hey.

[idolpire]

[Spike will look pale, but Spike always looked pale. It was part of being a vampire; locked away from the sun and never able to really live in more than shadows and darkness. He might look paler than usual because of his own loss of blood, though he'd been promised real blood by Nurse Smiles Too Much. He'd been sitting there waiting for it, pulling the things he was hooked up to out of him to the cacophony of bleeping machines and high-pitched alarms. The machine making the loudest beep was sent flying across the room to smash against the wall.

Not bleeping anymore, was it? Oddly, he'd heard the cadence of the footsteps before the door opened, at first thinking it was his promised snack, but realizing just before the door opened that it wasn't. His scent blew in when the door opened, ushered in by recycled air and telling more than the dark look on his face did. He scowled, pushing at another beeping machine until it knocked over.]

I would've told them not to call you if they'd asked me first.

[adiuvio]

What the hell are you doing?

[Spike's only seen John angry once. When he was himself, but not himself. He's himself now, but there's no denying he's just as capable of anger. Moreso, if the look in his eyes is anything to go by.

The man who had shot up the lobby of the Riverview Regent hadn't been so connected to his emotions. His ability to feel restricted by his inability to be vulnerable. The man who was flying across the room to slap Spike's hand away from disconnecting the nearest machine is vulnerable, and driven by his feelings, and that's what makes him more desperate. More determined. More dangerous.]

Stop it!

[idolpire]

What?

[He actually backs off, slouching back against the bed and looking up in surprise at John.]

I don't need to be hooked up to all this. I'm undead. Vampire, remember? No heartbeat to monitor. They just... dunno, forgot. Or like to piss me off by inconveniencing me. Worst is over. I just need a snack and for the sun to go down so I can be on my merry.

[But he sees that raw look in John's face, reaching out to grab his wrist, the plastic band around his own standing out as 'wrong', not fitting in with his image, just like the light cotton hospital gown does. It all washes him out, pale on pale on pale. But his grip is firm as he holds John's wrist.]

I'm fine. Had a moment, but they fixed it.

[adiuvio]

Forgot, huh?

[John's eyes scour Spike's face. He doesn't trust him. Not when it comes to taking care of himself. John knows Spike well enough to know he's got a self-destructive streak. They've got that in common.

The strength of Spike's grip is more of a relief than a threat. He doesn't try to pull his hand away. He needs the contact, right now. Something to ground him in the moment. Remind him that however corpse-like Spike looks, he's not gone, or on his way out.]

What happened, and who did it?

[idolpire]

If you're of a mind to go beat someone up, you'll have to skip through the portal to my world. Bloody soldier boys and their stupid manky chip. Went all haywire and tried to kill me. So, no more chip.

[He couldn't stop smiling as he said it. Yes, the chip had sucked. Yes, he'd hated being leashed. Yes, all of the bad things that had happened had been from that bloody chip. But it was gone now. It was a new day. And Spike was a perky little shit about it.]

It's a good thing, Wicked Man. Stop scowling.

[finethanks]

Spike-kun, you're here?

[It was just another check up for Eichi. He'd been through a lot lately, and it was important to follow up with things like that for his weak body. Now that he's finished up with it, it's sunset, and he spots Spike through one of the doors. Curiosity encourages him over quickly.]

You weren't hurt, were you? [Despite all of the harassing he'd done earlier, this question is genuine and concerned.]

[idolpire]

[He was finally able to leave this bloody place, shrugging his jacket on after getting dressed and getting ready to leave. The voice that was becoming annoyingly familiar had him scowling, then smiling as he remembered that things had changed.]

What does it matter to you? Come here to gloat? Or maybe you're in the mood for a little of that swatting around I promised.

[finethanks]

Would you swat at someone in the hospital?

[Eichi isn't aware of there being any difference, but after being attacked just from hiding some information not too long ago, he's not going after Spike nearly as hard this time.]

Whether you believe me or not, visits to the hospital aren't something that I'd wish on anyone. It's incredibly dull, if nothing else. [But it looks like Spike is all healed up from whatever this is, hm?] I would have offered to heal you, if you weren't already on your way out, you see.

[idolpire]

Yes. I'd also eat people in the hospital. And at a funeral. And at a wedding. It's called being evil. Look it up.

[Smoothing his coat down, he moves to step closer to Eichi, mentally trying to figure out just how badly he wanted to hurt this perky little brat in comparison to how much trouble he wanted to get into.]

Heal me? I'm undead. I'll heal just fine on my own.

[Oh, he still had a bit of a headache, but a few bags of actual human blood was helping nicely.]

[finethanks]

Like a character from a story book? That's a rather dull approach, isn't it?

[He can't help but say things like this, though. His thoughts always come out in this way. As someone who made himself into a necessary villain even though he always wanted to be more of a main character, but hated heroes— well, he has a lot of feelings about that whole dynamic.

He glances up at Spike now that he's closer, taking this chance to look him up and down. No bandages, no casts... Interesting.]

That's right, you did say that. Does healing come with that? I wasn't sure. [As bored as always, he comments on that simply and takes a couple of steps back, turning to walk that way.]

You were about to leave, weren't you? I hate this place very much, so I'd rather not keep speaking here, anyway.

[idolpire]

Where do you think they get the idea for those stories, you twit?

[Eichi managed to frustrate him almost as quickly as Harmony had, and he wondered if the best thing in the world might not be to lock the two of them in a room and see who gabbed the other to death.]

I'm not planning on having my mail sent here.

[With that shot, he started to move past Eichi, not bothering to see if the other was keeping up or even attempting to. The further he got from the bane of his existence, the better. He was trying to be semi-decent. Eichi was testing that.]

[deceitful]

[ Sundown was quickly becoming his favourite time to roam Riverview. Less people around, and those that were tended to be were, well. Peter's type of people. Unsavory characters. Not always, and not to generalise, but it usually held true. But being afraid of things that go bump in the night? Bit of a moot point when you happened to be on the list itself.

Regardless, it never hurt to be cautious. Peter didn't have a destination in particular, wasn't going anywhere after he'd already made his trip to the local coffee shop for a cappuccino, the drink cradled in his hand and nursed during his walk.

Of course, all the supernatural senses in the world and no amount of listening for any heartbeats straying too close helped when Peter rounded a corner, caught a flash of white and leather and then collision was imminent.

Oops. ]

[idolpire]

[Spike was lost in his thoughts. Being able to leave the hospital had him doing just that, scurrying off to, likely, find himself something to drink to mull over his thoughts. He had no chip anymore. Buffy was in the city. He had no bloody leash anymore and the ability to do as he pleased.

So why was he scowling to himself, lost so deeply in thought he didn't hear the footsteps coming around the corner until it was too late.

There was a collision, bodies bumping against each other and Spike falling back against the corner of the wall.]

Oi! Watch where you're bloody well going!

[Because clearly it was the fault of the other man he'd run into -- the one who smelled like wet dog.]

[deceitful]

[ The coffee sloshed dangerously in its cup, lid popping off when Peter squeezed it out of reflex. It splashed across the pavement, splattering over Peter's shoes, the container following shortly after when Peter hit the opposite wall. On the bright side, it didn't spill all over anyone like the start of a terrible romcom.

His instincts kicked in first. No heartbeat? Check. Looked like he hadn't gone out under the sun in over a century? Check. Scent: ashy, but that could be from anything. Excessive leather? — granted, that one wasn't specific to vampires, but more of an overall supernatural obsession, so.

That left Peter with his eyes flashing blue, a mouth full of bared fangs, and a couple of options for what he bumped into might be. ]

I was keeping an ear out, actually. You don't have a heartbeat.

[idolpire]

[The ash would be from his cigarette habit, the leather limited to the trenchcoat, but to be fair, it was a rather large coat. And older, so it had been processed a little differently than anything more modern.

He was checking himself for coffee spots when he thought he heard a snarl, looking up into glowing blue eyes and fangs and pausing. Then he heard what the... man? Maybe not man. Whatever, was saying.]

Of course not. Vampires generally don't. And what the hell are you? The djinn of bad teeth?

[deceitful]

[ Funny.

Peter took a breath, and every sign of something less than human receded, leaving behind only the ordinary. Yeah, so that might've been an overreaction, but hey. Better safe than sorry. Otherwise, he wasn't prone to attacking unprovoked. It wasn't how he operated.

He raised an eyebrow at Spike. Nice of him to gift him his species in a gift wrapped box like that. ]

Please. [ He shook the coffee off his shoes without taking his eyes off Spike. ] The tooth fairy would be off collecting actual teeth at this time of night.

[idolpire]

[Have a level look, Peter.]

I've met a tooth fairy. Not something you want to make a joke of. Nasty little buggers. And a fairy's not a djinn, mate. Whatever you are, you might want to brush up on other nasties.

[Like vampires. And how anal retentive they could be.]

[bluechampion]

Link hadn't kept his exploring to merely the day. In his experience, the sunset brought out things that couldn't be found during the day, and even if they weren't good things, Link wanted to know how the city changed at night.

For the most part, it was quiet. There were still people about, and they mostly kept to themselves other than the occasional drunk that stumbled from the bars and made an attempt to get home. Link would sometimes follow them to make sure that they got someplace relatively safe before passing out, then continue on his way.

As for now, Link found himself looking at the map on his Sheikah Slate, wondering where to go next. He didn't feel tired, so going back to his lodgings was out of the question to him. He had tried to get into some of the bars around the city, but wasn't allowed inside since he was too young. Just then, he saw a surprisingly sober man not too far away. He had nothing better to do right now. Might as well follow him and see if anything interesting happened.

[idolpire]

The sober man, aka, the sober vampire, was currently stalking through the streets, just enjoying what he considered to be a little bit of freedom. He was chipless, leashless, and he could be whatever he wanted to be. The sky was the limit. Well, the night was the limit, but he'd had a century to get used to those boundaries. Those were rules he'd learned to follow. The chip had been a piece of something wrong inside of him, something that made him the worst of the blend of vampire and man. What sort of vampire couldn't even bite someone?

The sad kind, that's what. Not anymore. As he strolled down the street, his eyes flicked to necks he passed, tempted by each one but wondering just how far he wanted to push against that fragile peace he'd established in Quarantine.

[bluechampion]

Link was behind him, so he couldn't tell exactly what this guy was looking at when he turned his head, but it was kind of weird. He continued to follow him but didn't put any effort in trying to be subtle about it. Link wasn't one to start confrontations if he could help it, but he was restless and he wouldn't mind speaking to someone, even if it was in a negative situation.

[idolpire]

There was a tickling along the back of his neck, that predatory, demonic part of him picking up on being stalked. Well, that wasn't common here. He'd had someone follow him early on, someone threaten him to 'keep him in line', but nothing sneaky or bad since then. Maybe the hospital had decided to keep someone on him now. Wouldn't that be a pain in the-- well. A pain.

At the next alley he came to, he slipped into it, moving to hide further in the shadows to see who would come to peek further in. This was almost like a hunt, and Spike liked the thrill of it as it started to run through him.

[bluechampion]

Link raised a brow as he saw the man slip into a dark alley. It seemed that he didn't like being followed. Was he reckless enough to go in after him?

Of course he was.

Link carefully approached the corner and slowly peeked into the alley. A bit of the light from the main street shone in, but only a couple of feet. The rest of the alley was draped in deep shadow, and it was difficult to make out much. Link slowly stepped forward. He kept himself from drawing his weapons, but was ready to do so in the blink of an eye.

[idolpire]

Spike peered around the bin he was using for cover, both surprised and yet not to see what looked like a boy peering in after him. Well, clearly there was only one thing to be done about this.

He waited until the lad stepped a little further in, saw him tense and ready himself as if waiting for an attack. Spike would hate to disappoint. On the next step in, he jumped out from behind the bin, arms up over his head as he morphed his face into something a little less human and a little more demonic. "BOOGIE BOOGIE BOO!"

Yes. He'd just done that.