CHAPTER ONE
“Sometimes/I feel/You’re not listening/Sometimes/I feel/You don’t understand me/But I/Think I’ve/Got the answer/Already/Know what/You’re gonna say... Because I’m just a little girl you see/But there’s a Hell of a lot more to me/Don’t ever underestimate/What I can do/Don’t ever tell me how I’m meant to be/Cos I’m just a little girl/Just a little girl/How can I compare/What do I know/What have I got to share...” Amy Studt~ ‘Just a little girl’
“She’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“You’re lying- why are you-”
“Xander, she’s gone.”
“But-”
“Don’t make me say it Xander! Please!”
“She’s... Dead?”
“That’s what they told me.”
“But I don’t understand...”
“How?”
“They... The doctors say they don’t know what happened.”
“What d’you mean?”
“When she collapsed... Well, they couldn’t find anything wrong with her. That’s why I didn’t call right away.”
“She collapsed?”
“We were on our way back to the dorm when she just... She just...”
“Will it’s okay.”
“Xand, you don’t understand. She was so scared! She couldn’t feel her legs when she went down, then she blacked out. We weren’t even at the hospital when she died.”
“She...”
“Xand?”
“She... How could they not know what was wrong with her? How could they not save her?”
“I was with her and she...”
“She?”
“She was just so scared.”
“Shh, Willow come here. It’ll be okay honey.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I just can’t believe this.”
“How could this happen?”
“She was so alive yesterday.”
“This is too much.”
“I don’t know if I can handle...”
“Handle this world without her?”
“Handle having to be a normal person again.”
“I can’t believe she’s really gone.”
................................................................................
Spike was on his usual evening patrol when he heard the news.
So she was dead? He’d taken the news with a slight shrug of indifference, and proceeded to dust the vamps who had delighted in sharing it with him.
He felt... Well, to be honest he didn’t really feel anything.
Didn’t feel smug. Didn’t feel sad.
Really, he’d just felt slightly indifferent, as he was sure she would too, had their roles have been reversed and he’d been the one who’d collapsed and died for no reason in particular.
Just like a flaky chit like that to up and die for no solid reason. Leave her friends wondering.
Ever the mystery, that pretty blond Slayer. A mystery never to be solved, if her signed and dated death certificate was anything to go by, that is.
Spike took a single moment of silence, as the dust of his latest slay settled around him, to pay his respects to a girl who had infuriated him to his limit over the past three years.
He pushed his stake back into his back pocket and worried a little about her friends. His friends. Rupert, Joyce, Red and Xander- he’d gotten closer to them all these past few months and he knew how badly they’d take the Slayer’s death.
He knew they’d want to grieve, and, as much as he liked them, he didn’t know if he’d be able to cope, listening to them whine on about that useless little twerp of a girl.
It was true enough that since taking Giles up on his offer to switch sides and join the Scooby gang, he and Buffy hadn’t exactly become the best of friends. While friendship with the other Scoobies seemed to have thrived, he just couldn’t bring himself to like the girl who was the natural killer of his kind.
As it were, he seemed to have found common ground with all of her friends; sharing Rupert’s passion for good music, Red’s love for poetry and knowledge, Xander’s enthusiasm for the combination of pool and beer, and Joyce’s warm and open nature. In fact, the whole group, though resistant at first, had finally accepted and welcomed him as an official member.
The only person who ever seemed displeased with his presence these days was that snotty Slayer, who had continued to look at him with eyes of utter contempt each time he showed up for a Scooby meeting.
Things had started out civil enough; she’d even looked ever so slightly pleased when Rupert had announced that the ‘evil’ vampire Spike would be joining forces with them.
But pretty soon, things had changed drastically for the worse, and they hadn’t been sorted out since.
They’d gone months without speaking now, and, strangely it was Buffy who became quiet and slightly withdrawn from her friends. Spike felt a secret kind of satisfaction when they directed their patrol related questions to him, rather than to their useless Slayer, and when they invited him to the Bronze, whilst forgetting the quiet Slayer.
And somewhere along the way he seemed to have lost all the building respect he’d had her. First she’d joined the military group who’d implanted his blasted chip; then she’d split up with the pathetic army boy for no reason that he cared to hear her whittle on about, and before they had managed to retrieve any information on his chip and it’s uses. Or on Adam, the demon they had fought, and very nearly lost against, just a few months back.
She was bloody useless, that girl. And he couldn’t really say he was all too gutted by her death, other than the concern for his friends.
He cast a last look around the now empty cemetery, and then set off in the direction of Joyce’s place.
.................................................................
“Oh Spike.”
She pulled him into an impassioned embrace; pressing his face into her hair.
“Oh Spike- What am I going to do without her?”
“Shh.” he replied, stroking the hair that was obstructing his view. “You’ll be okay Joyce. You’ll be okay luv.”
“I can’t believe she’s gone!”
Spike had to grit his teeth, just a little.
“I know. I know.”
As much as he loved Joyce; too much pretending to care about her stupid bint of a daughter was really going to kill him.
“The other’s here?”
“In the sitting room. Here.”
She led him through the open door and into the lounge where various Scoobies sat slumped in obvious grief. They all looked up when he walked in.
“Spike!” Willow said appreciatively, standing up to embrace him. “It’s so good to see you.”
“You too Red. You holding up?”
She attempted a half smile, but fell at the first hurdle. “You know how it is.” she said instead. “You?” there was something odd reflected in her eyes as she posed this question to him, and it made him hesitate before giving his real answer.
Eventually he decided upon a simple shrug. “Didn’t know the girl like you lot did.” he said, feeling the desire to look away from her imploring gaze, “It’s sad.”
Willow was still giving him that haunting look, and finally he turned to Rupert who was accepting a mug of tea from Joyce.
“You okay there Watcher?”
The elderly man turned to his younger (looking) friend, offering him a weak attempt at a smile, but no answer to his ridiculous question. Of course he wasn’t okay. His daughter was dead. He’d probably never be okay again, as much as he’d always been mentally prepared for this very day.
He handed his tea back to Joyce, “Do you have anything a little stronger?” he asked. Joyce smiled at him sympathetically as she went to fetch the scotch glasses.
“Good to have you here man.” Xander said in a slightly deflated voice as he slapped a hand to the vampire’s back. “When did you... Hear...”
“Couple-a hours ago. Was out on a patrol.”
Willow pulled a face, trying to be comical though Spike could see tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, “Having a party were they?” she asked; her voice cracking over the question.
Spike felt suddenly bad for the girl he considered to be like a sister to him, and he pulled her into a hug, murmuring, “Doesn’t matter what they say Red. Don’t let it get to you.”
Willow snuggled herself against his chest, smiling slightly at the comfort she found there. “Will you stay with us a while?”
“Course.”
He pulled away as Rupert handed him a glass of whiskey, and he sat down to what he knew would be a horribly long night.
.......................................................
“Remember the time she-” Willow had to pause as she let out a spontaneous giggle, “The time she dumped a church organ on top of Spike?”
Joyce gaped, “She did no such thing!”
“Oh- she did.” laughed Giles, glancing at Spike who was grimacing at the memory. “Not that she did it on purpose of course.”
“Bloody bitch meant to do it.” Spike blurted, and he looked around at the faces which seemed to become immediately subdued. “I...”
“Spike...” Willow had that same strange look in her eyes again, “It’s okay. We know you didn’t mean to...” she faltered at the look Spike was trying to hide. “You...” Willow didn’t know how to ask, “You are sorry she died... Aren’t you?”
He looked away too quickly.
“Spike!”
“Course.” he managed eventually. The Scooby gang looked generally sated by his answer. All but Willow that is, who continued to look troubled.
Finally, after over half an hour of simply staring at him, Willow got to her feet, asking;
“Spike, can I talk to you outside for a moment.”
He looked at her with exasperation, but eventually nodded.
“Sure thing.”
He gave Joyce’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he passed her. She smiled up at him trustingly, unaware of the fact that he knew, any minute now, he would be trashing her daughter’s memory.
“What is it red?” he asked, once they were alone.
“You’re not sorry.” she stated simply, her eyes glossing, “Buffy’s dead Spike, and you’re not sorry.”
He stared at her for a moment, eventually opting for the easiest way out, “I didn’t know her the way you and the gang did.”
“You knew her for three years.”
“Knew her. But I didn’t KNOW her. Not really.”
“But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be sorry that she died.” Willow looked down. “Just tell me you’re sorry. Just a little bit.”
When Spike didn’t answer, she slowly looked up to meet his hardened gaze.
“I’m not gonna say it.” he finally growled.
“Say it!”
“I’m not going to say I’m sorry when I’m not.” Spike cried, pent up resentment finally spilling out. “I hated her and she hated me. I refuse to disrespect her memory any more by pretending we meant more to each other than we did.”
“Spike- she didn’t hate you.” Willow tried.
“Hello! Which Buffy did you know?” Spike cried, throwing his arms up in annoyance, “We were hardly Paul and Barry Chuckle- She hated me.”
“She didn’t hate-”
“She HATED me.”
“Spike...”
“No.”
“Spike-”
“No!” he turned away from the red-head in annoyance, “I don’t wanna hear-”
“Spike, she was in love with you!”
Willow slapped her mouth as the words tumbled out, and Spike froze, still facing away from her,
“Spike...”
“...What... What are you talking about?” he asked, slowly turning to look back at her, “What do you mean?”
Willow looked slightly torn for a moment, before saying, “Nothing- honestly. Forget I spoke.” She hurriedly started walking away but Spike grabbed her instantly,
“Tell me Will,” he said, and she recognised the confusion in his eyes, “What the bloody Hell are you chatting on about?”
She opened her mouth; preparing to tell him another lie, but it froze on her tongue, and the truth spilled out instead. “She didn’t hate you Spike- she was in love with you. Truly.”
“How?” Spike questioned, “Wha... Since when?”
Willow closed her eyes, then gazed down at the floor. “We found some of her diaries when we were packing up her stuff...” she said, then she looked up at Spike, “I think you should read for yourself.”
“What?” he protested, “I’m not going to read her diary!”
“It’s the only way you’ll ever understand what she was going through.” Willow said sadly. A tear slipped down her cheek as she added, “I wish we’d known. Maybe we could have helped her.”
“She...” Spike didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to be finding this out now- he wanted to be back in his safe oblivion where Buffy was merely another Slayer with a grudge against him. “Are you sure?”
Willow nodded, her eyes filling slightly with tears.
“But it doesn’t make sense.” Spike protested, “She... We... It just doesn’t make sense.”
“I understand it now.” Willow said softly. “I just wish we’d known. I wish she’d said something.”
Spike was shaking his head in adamant denial, his mouth still hanging open with disbelief. She was the Slayer. She didn’t love him- she couldn’t!
“Willow, I…”
The red-head led him upstairs to her dead best friend’s bedroom.
It looked exactly as it always had done, though Spike wouldn’t have known that, having never paid enough interest in the girl to be allowed access to her bedroom.
It smelt of her though, and he recognised that scent.
“Here.” Willow handed him a cardboard box full of oddly shaped and sized books. “I know diaries are meant to be private, but you’ll never truly be able to understand just what Buffy Summers sacrificed for you, without reading it all from her point of view.”
Spike took the box of books, still feeling utterly bewildered by the whole ordeal.
Then he sat down on the dead Slayer’s bed, and Willow left him alone.