He can fly higher than an eagle...

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

Continued from here.

"Being hurt doesn't give me an excuse to act badly," Wesley protested. "You aren't making things more difficult. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

Comments

[flaming-muse.livejournal.com]

"Tell him I stopped by. Tell him if there's anything he needs..." Angel shook his head. "Just take care of him." Clearly done with the conversation, Angel turned and started down the hallway.

Spike watched him walk away, feeling like they hadn't said everything they needed to say but at a loss for words. When Angel was out of sight, Spike went back into Wesley's room, setting the laptop on the table and pulling the blood quietly out of the bag.

Now that he was paying attention, Spike was aware that he was quite hungry as well as tired. Checking that Wesley seemed to be sleeping soundly, he wandered out and used the microwave in the nurses' kitchenette, pouring the heated blood into a styrofoam cup. He was thankful to find that it was pig mixed with a bit of something else, which tasted and smelled far enough from Wesley's blood that it didn't remind him of the previous night.

When he was done with his meal, he went back to Wesley's room and sank back into the chair that was quickly becoming home. For lack of anything better to do, he powered up the computer - cringing as it beeped loudly upon starting, although Wesley didn't seem to notice - and began to look at the flats on the web.

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

For Wesley, it was a long and rather dream-like night. On several occasions he woke to small sounds in the room -- once he thought it might have been a nurse giving him more morphine, which he was perfectly happy to have if it kept him in the comfortable doze he was in.

At some point, he roused enough to discover that there was another bed -- some kind of cot, perhaps -- in the room, but that Spike wasn't lying down on it. He turned his head to see Spike dozing in the chair next to him, but he didn't have the energy to do anything but close his eyes and drift back to sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, it was morning, sunlight streaming into the room in pale stripes between the blinds.

[flaming-muse.livejournal.com]

Unaware that Wesley was awake, Spike was standing in one of the beams of sunlight, watching his skin not smoke and burn as he tilted his hand directly in one of the beams. He was fascinated by the warm golden light and the heat it brought with it, remembering lazy afternoons sitting in the garden, trying to come up with poetry to describe the clouds. A yawn crept up on him, a product of his largely sleepless night, and he stifled it with the hand not in the sun.

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

Wesley turned his head and saw Spike standing near the window, and said nothing. He wanted to watch Spike like that, in the sunshine, for as long as he could. But then Spike yawned, and concern outweighed silence. "Did you get any sleep at all?" Wesley asked hoarsely.

[flaming-muse.livejournal.com]

Spike turned, a smile forming immediately at the sound of Wesley's voice. He was getting used to seeing Wesley so weak, but the extended periods of silence as Wesley slept and healed were wearing on him. "Some," he replied. "Less than you."

[wesleysgirl.livejournal.com]

"I'd imagine everyone is getting less than me," Wesley said, blinking sleepily. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"