Spike (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
idolpire) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-07-14 05:06 pm
idolpire) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-07-14 05:06 pm
Open
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.]
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.]
no subject
Fine. But only if you agree to join me in the shower. Got some... hard to reach places.
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.