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

[adiuvio]

Cut it out.

[John's eyes go from soft to sharp without blinking. Quick as the flick of a switchblade.

He's not in the mood for Spike to play everything off. He's still raw. Too sensitive. There's still adrenaline in his blood. Iron in his mouth.

Sex was the last thing on John's mind. Sure, they'd knocked boots, but that wasn't what had John running to the hospital with his heart in his throat.

He cares about Spike. More than could be put into words, what with the complicated nature of their relationship. Spike, always keeping it light. John, still wounded, too fresh for anything more than whatever this is.

Friends. Lovers. Something like family, not that John knows a damned thing about it. The closest he's ever come to blood is Marcus, and Marcus' blood is still too fresh on his hands.]

They getting blood into you? Know to keep the windows closed?

[idolpire]

[Well. He hadn't expected that either, but he'd take raw and angry over soft and tender. Especially when he had no sure solid standing on where he was or what he was doing. His hand on John's wrist tightened, his grip a little hard before he let go. A squeeze, an affirmation, a... bloody hell. He didn't know what, but he didn't want that pain lingering in the back of John's eyes to be directed at him.]

Windows have some sort of treatment. Says I won't woosh into flames because of it. Blood... not yet. Nurse Ratchet says it's on the way. Actual human blood, too. Not the synthetic crap. Keep fussing like this and I'll think you care.

[adiuvio]

I do care. Get used to it.

[John pulls back one hand, yanking the cuff of his shirt up with his teeth to expose the white of his inner wrist.]

Here. In the meantime. You look paler than usual.

[idolpire]

Why would I go do a stupid thing like that?

[Getting used to being cared for? That was a recipe for disaster. Just when you start to get cozy, that's when life likes to fuck you.

He looks down at the wrist being offered to him, feeling saliva already starting to build in his mouth. He scoffs, pushing at John's arm and giving him a quirked brow.]

You that eager to bleed for me? They'll be in with my 'jello' in a bit. I'm hardly going to swoon.

[adiuvio]

Why do you have to be so damned difficult?

[John scowls, his arm still hanging in the air, like he's offering a bag of take-out.

Helen was just as stubborn. A woman who liked to do everything for herself, for as long as she could do it. Prideful. Strong. Unwilling to give up her independence until the very end.

As much as John had wanted to take care of her, he had never wanted to witness the look on her face when she had finally said yes.]

Never thought you were the type to turn down a free meal.

[idolpire]

That what you want to be right now, Wicked? A free meal? And here I thought you just said no sex.

[Spike sat up on the bed a bit more, feeling the opening gap in the back of the gown he had on and scowling when he did.]

I hate these bloody things. They were designed for the sole purpose of showing off people's asses.

[adiuvio]

I've already seen your ass. Quit worrying about it.

[In the same breath John's reaching behind Spike the adjust the back of his gown, pulling it snug over his back and tucking it in below the pillows.

He's an old hand with all this. The nurses, the gowns, the IV's, and the shitty food. If John never stepped foot in another hospital it'd be too soon. He'd die in the street before he ended up in one of these places, trapped amidst polyester curtains and synthetic smells.

When John's done adjusting, he looks back to Spike, more worried than agitated. His concern is too fresh to be scabbed over.]

What can I do?

[idolpire]

[Spike's first instinct is to tell him to sod off. He's not used to being coddled or cared for. He'd hated it when Dru had babied him after his accident. Being pushed around in that bloody wheelchair, washed, dressed like a bleeding infant. He'd almost staked himself. But he stopped himself before he did, because he saw that look on his face. Saw the pain that he'd felt himself more than once over his mum.

Sighing, he patted the bed, sitting up enough that his legs could spread and make a space between them.]

Up on it, then. You're clearly here to fuss and cuddle. So let's get it over with.

[adiuvio]

I didn't come here to fuss-

[John knows Spike well enough to know that any argument will just be one more indication he's right. He sighs, heavily, and eases himself up onto the bed with a reproachful look.]

They gonna keep you here overnight?

[idolpire]

Only reason I'm staying is for the free lunch and because it's still day out. Once the sun's gone, so am I. I don't like hospitals. They either reek of death or antiseptic. Usually both.

[adiuvio]

On that, we can agree. I hate hospitals. Wouldn't be here, if it weren't for you.

[John isn't sure about being so close to Spike in public. Not because he's ashamed. No, he's not ashamed of a damned thing. Least of all his choice in partners.

There's vulnerability in allowing the world to see who he cares for. They can be too easily marked, hurt, used as collateral. There was a reason John had disappeared off the map with Helen.

It strikes something in him, seeing Spike vulnerable like this, that he was ready and willing to kill should anyone present a threat.

John is tense, at first. He looks around the room. Checks his surroundings. Feels the weight of his gun at the small of his back, and his knife at his ankle, within reach if necessary. Then he settles, filling the gap between Spike's legs like a tired, if watchful, dog.]

I'll take you home.

[idolpire]

[Spike's arm drapes over his chest, embracing John from behind and pulling him in against his chest. He doesn't give him the choice of where to lay or how to do it. He takes that from him by tucking him in against his front, blanketed foot hooking around John's ankle.]

Relax, for Christ's sake. No one's going to attack us in the bloody hospital. And if someone's daft enough to try, we can both tear them limb from limb.

[And he felt good in saying that. In being able to. In being competent to take care of himself for once.]

Yours or mine, mm?

[adiuvio]

People will attack you anywhere, anytime. Hospital would be a great place to do it. Throw on some scrubs, or a lab coat, grab a clipboard, inject the right stuff, and you're in and out in twenty.

[John leans back against Spike, his eyes fixed on the door. He's alright being in front of Spike like a human shield. It's about time his flesh and blood did something good for someone.

He breathes slow, deep, and finds the closest thing to calm he knows. It bothers him sometimes, that he can't feel the beat of Spike's heart in his chest, or feel the warmth of his body. Sometimes, John worries he's a ghost. Dead, and gone, like everyone else. A figment of his lonely imagination.]

Mine. You need a real bed.

[idolpire]

You think I got those kind of enemies here? Not likely, Wicked Man. Now, if we were home, I may be slightly concerned, if only that the army boys would come fix what they broke in the first place. But here? I'm no one.

[He could feel John's heart, though, hand over his chest tapping fingers against it in time to John's pulse. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Matching it in rhythm until he could feel it beat less aggressively.]

That so? What else do I need?

[adiuvio]

I might have those kinds of enemies here.

[John had been busy, after all. That bag of cash sitting in Spike's crypt wasn't from selling cookies door to door. In his line of work, there's competition. Sometimes friendly. Most times not.

The drum of Spike's fingers is soothing. John's dark eyes slide closed once, then twice, before his eyelashes finally settle upon his cheeks.]

A decent pillow. Nice shower. Someplace quiet, and safe, to sleep this off, where I can keep an eye on you.

[idolpire]

I don't think anyone cares enough about either of us to try to risk the city's wrath to 'do away with me' in the hospital, Lord of Paranoia.

[Oh, he knew that John had been busy during his moment of slipped personality, but that was then. The city had been in full on chaos for more than just the pair of them, and the reason for that had been well known. The fact John wasn't continuing to take on orders had to be enough cause for those in the city who played in those roads to know he wasn't a current traveler.

And if not? Well, now he could kill them himself.]

Playing Mum now, are we? For whose benefit? Theirs, yours, or mine?

[adiuvio]

[John thinks about it. Spike has a point. John may have stepped on some toes, but he'd done so knowing he could stomp them, if need be. If any of the local killers had half a brain in their heads, they wouldn't come after John, or worse, after someone he's taken a shining to.

John shifts, leaning his head back against Spike's shoulder, relaxing.

Spike, aggravatingly, has a point.]

Mine. So say yes.

[idolpire]

[It's a small thing, a concession of a point like that, but from someone like John, it meant something. For him, at least. Spike smiled, lips pressing against the dark hair close to his mouth, hand spreading out to cover over the entirety of John's heart over his chest.]

Fine. But only if you agree to join me in the shower. Got some... hard to reach places.

[adiuvio]

Here I thought you were a spry old fellow.

[John isn't saying no. He makes that much obvious by patting Spike's hand affectionately, tilting his head back to look up at him with a smirk in his brown eyes, as boyish as a man his age can be.]

Deal.

[idolpire]

I'll show you just how spry I can be now that the leash is off...

[There's a promise in those blue eyes that match the brown ones, his smirk something wicked and full of a dark pleasure that he knows will reassure John later, when they're alone and in the relative safety of John's little home.]

Good. Now hush and let's get a little sleep. You're going to need it.