"I seem to remember it starting a little earlier on than that," Spike stated, surprisingly calmly, "you know, back when you thought that the entire world was turning against you because Faith had a shinier sword than you?" He wasn't trying to be rude or mean or anything like that. Spike was just attempting to pry a little more out of her before he actually sat down and said anything else about the situation. It was obviously something that Buffy needed to discuss with someone. She had nearly gotten herself killed over it, after all. Spike just wanted to make sure he didn't say the wrong thing. The last thing he needed was for her to pitch another fit when he was worried that she wouldn't have the sodding energy for it in the first place.
"This'll sting," Spike muttered, rolling up the sleeve of her shirt, "hold still." He poured some of the liquid onto a particularly nasty looking wound, then started to bandage it up. She was a tough girl, he was well aware of that. But some of these wounds looked like they hurt like a bitch. It didn't exactly please him.