Sunshine's stomach drops at the cat's veiled accusation. Never mind that Spike didn't tell anyone - how the hell was he supposed to let people know he wasn't conscious? She's the one who knew something was wrong and didn't do anything. She should have listened to herself. There's no excuse, not when the same damn thing happened with Con and she was right about it then, too. She should have been here sooner. She shouldn't have needed a cat-thing to frigging nudge her out the door.

"Okay," she says. Getting up is good, if he can manage it. "Yeah. I can... help." She moves her hand away from his face, carefully, as if worried it'll find its way to his (conveniently bare) chest if she lets her focus drift. The curl-back of her affinity leaves her unsettlingly light-headed, but once her hand is on his arm, it goes back to work. Distantly, she realizes she's pushing it, but she can't stop herself, and he needs help getting to his feet.

So, time to do that. She gets her feet beneath her. "Oooookay." Now they just have to stand. That's doable, right? Sure it is. She tells herself it's time to stand up, but instead she just... sits. Against the fridge. It's kind of comfortable down here.