"Buffy, there was blood all over the floor, he had his vamp face on, and his hands all over Dawn!" He opened his eyes, voices coming from beyond the door, from somewhere else outside his room, voices raised enough that he had heard them clearly as they carried.

  "Yes... it was... Rather damning a sight, I must say." Another voice had added, a voice somewhat calmer than the first, at least on the surface. Glancing about the room, he found some effort had been made to clean the mess. Gone was the bowl and spoon that had been clattered to the floor by the young girl, though the smear of blood still lingered, if he were to judge by how potent the scent of blood had still been. He was still in a great deal of pain, from his short bout of action most likely; he was, however, mercifully devoid of the crossbow bolt that he'd been shot with. The ringing in his ears hadn't gone, though it had somewhat subsided; enough so that he was not deafened by the effect of it.

  "No! Buffy, he wasn't-" The young girl's voice had been cut off as she'd protested the events that had been described.

  "Trying to bite you?" That voice was not that of a girl, it was a woman he had seen.

  "Like he bit you on the top of that tower?" The woman went on. Bit her?... He was frustrated as he listened to the conversation, nothing was made any sense. The people who were discussing matters had no decorum, arguing so loudly, loud enough to wake the dead. He had half a mind to go and ask what all the commotion had been about in the first place... But, his head throbbed viciously, his libs ached like he'd suffered some horrible illness; he had managed to get as far as to sit up slightly, before he found himself needing to stop. Still, it appeared his presence was not needed, for the conversation went on without him.

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  "He saved me!" The girl said with conviction, not deterred by the others, she went on.

  "And he wasn't trying to hurt me, he was trying to protect me! I was trying to tell you that when you guys came barging in like that." The girl went on, he heard their conversation clearly even through the closed door of the room. Through the pain, it had taken him another moment to realise, there was movement coming toward him, up a set of stairs by the sound of it.

  "Well, why don't I go and ask him." The woman had said, speaking in a cheerful tone that did not match the rest of the conversation.

  "Buffy..." The voice of the younger man followed her, but he trailed off, and she put his worries aside.

  "I'll be fine." The woman said, continuing up the stairs.. Continuing to approach the door to the room he'd rested in.

  "Do be careful Buffy. And, we'll be right here... If you need anything..." The older man called up from wherever they had been discussing, a beat passing, before the door to the room opened again.

  "Spike. You're awake." She stood there, for a moment, not approaching him - certainly not running away. Her hips cocked, her hand lingered upon the door handle, her expression was bemused, as she looked on him with a look that could kill. He almost failed to look away. Frustration grew with confusion in equal measure, as he pursed his lips and let a harsh breath out his nose, trying to make his tone come out even when he spoke next:

  "Who the bloody hell is Spike?"