Continued from
Here I wasn't really certain what was going on. Spike and I had been sparring, rather violently at that. But it was what I needed at the moment. Some way to channel the anger that I kept locked up inside, some way to get rid of the pent up frustration. Spike seemed to understand that, even though he was holding back. Angel wouldn't even have a real sparring session with me. That is, if he wasn't trying his best to avoid me. As do the others. Ever since I came back from my...vacation. Since I shot the cyborg posing as my father.
Spike had knocked me down and the moment I hit the floor, a lot of confusing images went flooding through my mind. Flashing before my eyes. I was confused by them. I could understand the ones about my father, those had been true. But not the ones about Angel wanting me dead and trying to smother me with a pillow. I didn't understand those. Not one bit. No matter how much sense I tried to make of them. Of course Spike had no idea either.
And here we were. I was laying on the floor, trying to move. And he was holding my hand, ready to pull me up. Only he didn't. Instead he plopped down next to me. Raising my eyebrow, I turned my head to look at him. "Did I get you better then I thought?" I grinned at him, wincing when that made it clear that my eye might be quite swollen if I didn't put something on it. Not that I cared, who'd see me anyway. Everyone was avoiding me. Buggers.
"Comfortable?" I asked, blinking at the hand he was still holding. At least I knew wasn't alone here, some form of physical evidence. Which must be nice for him too. What, with being a ghost for quite some time.