Pairing: Xander/Spike

Author: Calypso Woodhaven
Fandom: BTVS
Prompt: Week#47 – conclave
Warnings: Implied Slash
betaed by jans_intentions

Rating: PG

Summary: Xander’s sick and having reactions to his medication.

A/N - This is based in part from people I’ve known who have gone in for surgery and the like and have had hallucinations from their medication.



Hallucinations


by
C. Woodhaven




Monday

Brown eyes opened for the first time in days.

“Hey, love,” Spike said softly, from his perch in the chair.

“Spike?” Xander asked bewildered. “Why are you here? Where’s Anya?”

Spike’s chest tightened. The witch had said there was a possibility that even when Xander regained consciousness he wasn’t out of the woods yet. Meds he was on were heavy duty and screwed with his senses.

“Promised you I’d never leave your side,” Spike replied cautiously.

“Since when,” Xander said. The animosity was apparent even though the tone was shaky.

The sick feeling in Spike’s belly intensified. He wished he could explain it as bad blood, but he hadn’t eaten in days.

On the outside, though, Spike feigned indifference. “Sure you don’t want the whole sordid tale now, pet.”

Xander’s eyes wandered for a moment studying the ceiling. He suddenly paled and demanded shrilly, “What’s that?”

Spike frowned at the nearly hysterical tone to Xander’s voice. He looked up, but there wasn’t anything there.

“Nothing there, love. What did you think you saw?”

“Fish!” Xancer shouted in a panic. “Fish on the ceiling. Get them down, they’re gonna fall on me.”

“Nothing’s gonna fall on you.”

“No, no, there’s fish! I can see them.” Xander was panicked now, drawing back into the bed as if he were trying to hide. He put his hands over his face, like a small child.

“’k, love, I’ll get them down.” Spike felt foolish, but stood on his chair and pantomimed brushing the imaginary fish from the ceiling.

Xander spread his fingers slightly, peering through them and visibly relaxed.

“Thanks, Spike.” He yawned. “I’m sleepy.”

“Rest, pet. Things’ll look better in a bit.”

“Yeah…” Xander murmured, as he drifted into a drugged sleep.

Once Spike was certain the boy was out, he reached out and stroked his hair.



Wednesday

Buffy handed him a tall thermos. Looked like coffee, smelled like O-positive.

Spike accepted it with a grateful, “Thanks, pet.”

She dragged an extra chair over next to Spike’s and sat down.

“So how is he?”

“Fine,” Spike replied tightly, not taking his eyes of the boy.

“Liar,” Buffy snorted.

“Well, yeah. What do you ‘spect me to say?” Spike asked, angrily.

Buffy put her hand on his arm. “I know. It’s rough. You can talk to me you know, if you need to.”

Spike remained silent. He couldn’t share some of the boy’s more twisted moments.

“Woke up the other day and forgot he’d lost his eye.” Spike offered, remembering waking to Xander’s horrified scream. “Oh, my God! They took my eye, Spike! I’m missing an eye!”

Buffy rubbed his arm. “It will get better,” she offered reassuringly.

Spike looked at her. “Really?” he asked in a blatantly skeptical voice. Spike was starting to have doubts.

Just that morning, the boy started shouting random words until he was hoarse: 'courtliness,' 'discombobulation,' 'assassin,' 'collectivist,' and, Spike’s personal favorite, 'conclave.' He didn’t even know if the boy knew what that meant.

“Yes.”

“How do you know?” Spike finally asked, trying to conceal his increasing desperation.

“Because it’s Xander, and it has to,” she said simply.

She sat with him through the night, offering silent comfort to her two friends.





Friday

“I’d rather be borting,” Xander mumbled.

“What, love?” Spike asked cautiously. He wasn’t sure which version of Xander had woken up.

Xander giggled. “You know, snailing the wild frontier, with my six pea shooter.”

Apparently, this was the insane one. Least he was on familiar ground.

“Pea shooter, huh?” Spike asked.

“Yeah.” Xander grinned goofily.

Spike smiled slightly. Least today Xander seemed happy.




Sunday

Xander yawned loudly, and poked Spike’s sleeping form. The vampire was bent in half, resting his head on the bed next to Xander’s knee.

It even looked like he was drooling.

Xander grinned. It was just like Spike to sleep while Xander was sick.

Xander ran his fingers through the vampire’s sleep tossled hair.

Spike jerked bolt upright, staring at Xander.

“Hello, love,” he said cautiously.

“Hey you,” Xander replied.

"Seem like yourself again," Spike noted.

Xander thought about it for a moment, and then said, “Yeah, I am. When do you think I can get out of here?”

“Not bloody soon enough!”

“You okay?” Xander asked, concerned that Spike seemed so frazzled.

“You remember anything?” Spike asked cautiously.

Xander shook his head. “Nah, I mean I know they said this medication was bad, but I don’t think it affected me much. I just had some weird dreams. That’s about it.”

Spike looked at him strangely for a moment, and then gave a small smile. “Yeah, looks like you got off easy.”

“Thanks for being here.”

“You’re worth it, love,” Spike assured him honestly.




The End





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