I walked through the cemetery, which was strangely quiet, and I was glad. I hadn't been feeling well the past few days, but I didn't tell anyone, they had too much to worry about. My head was pounding and I felt somewhat weak. Suddenly a HUGE demon walked out from behind a crypt; it was scaly and ugly and had huge spikes along it's tail. I regretted only bringing a stake along on this patrol, it would do no good against this demon.
He charged at me and he was too quick so I was knocked over and my stake flew out of my hand. "Buffy!!" I heard a familiar, British-accented voice yell. I looked up and saw Spike charging at the demon, which had come up behind me. I was too weak to try and fight, and the demon whipped out it's tail and I was tossed against a crypt. I heard Spike cry out again, but I couldn't focus, my head was spinning.
"Buffy, pet, are you okay?" Spike was hovering over me, a concerned expression on his handsome face. I couldn't see the demon anywhere.
"Spike," I said faintly, "I don't feel well."
"Shh, love, it's okay. I've got you," he whispered gently in my ear.
I felt him pick me up in his arms, and then everything faded into darkness.
I was walking back from the supermarket with my smokes, blood, and alcohol when I heard a cry of pain from a nearby crypt. I recognized it as my Slayer and I promised that I would punch whatever wanker who had caused my Slayer to be in pain in the face. I walked around the corner and saw Buffy being tossed to the ground by a bloody huge demon and she didn't get back up.
"Buffy!!" I shouted.
I charged at the demon with murder in my mind. Before I got close enough the demon whipped out it's tail and sent Buffy sailing into a crypt, when she didn't get up again I charged at the demon and hit it square in the chest. Once I got in that punch the demon ran away. Nancy-boy.
I rushed over to where Buffy was laying, she hadn't moved since she'd hit the wall. I crouched over her and shook her shoulder, "Buffy, pet, are you okay?"
"Spike," she said weakly, "I don't feel well."
"Shh, love, it's okay. I've got you," I said softly into her ear.
I picked her up gently in my arms and started walking towards my crypt. She slumped into my chest and I picked up my pace.
"Come on, love, we're almost there. Hold on, pet."
I noticed that she wasn't looking too well; her face was pale, her cheeks were bright red, her forehead gleamed with sweat, and she looked really weak. We arrived at my crypt within minutes and I carried Buffy down to the lower level of it. I set her gently on the bed and felt her forehead, it was too hot for a human and her breathing was agitated.
"Oh pet, you're sick," I whispered, "But don't worry, love, I'll take care of you."
For hours and hours, I waited for her to stir, but nothing happened.
Sighing, I placed my hand on her forehead again and I found it burning hot still. "Dammit, Buffy. How did you get so sick?"