Summary: 
Since the age of five, Buffy has always thought that life couldn’t get any worse. Then it always does. She does what she has to in order to survive. Her only means of sanity and escape are her fantasies in which she is a superhero who always wins the battle...eventually. She goes through life learning that for her there is no happily ever after. Will life prove her right or wrong in the end?
Follows Buffy throughout her life and ships. Spuffy tones throughout, but more so in later chapters.
Categories: General Fics Characters: None
Genres: Angst
Warnings: Adult Language, Child Abuse, Rape, Sexual Situations, Violence
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 39
Completed: No
Word count: 82987
Read: 16204
Published: 10/16/2004
Updated: 05/08/2016
Story Notes:
Banner courtesy of the amazing Teragramm
1. Prologue - A Secret Cord by Irishrose
2. One - The Minor Fall by Irishrose
3. Two - The Major Lift by Irishrose
4. Three - The Baffled King by Irishrose
5. Four - Composing Hallelujah by Irishrose
6. Five - Your Faith Was Strong But You Needed Proof by Irishrose
7. Six - You Saw Her Bathing On The Roof by Irishrose
8. Seven - Her Beauty And The Moonlight by Irishrose
9. Eight - She Tied You Too A Kitchen Chair by Irishrose
10. Nine - She Broke Your Throne by Irishrose
11. Ten - She Cut Your Hair by Irishrose
12. Interlude - First Christmas by Irishrose
13. Eleven - And From Your Lips... by Irishrose
14. Twelve - She Drew The Hallelujah by Irishrose
15. Thirteen -Maybe I've Been Here Before by Irishrose
16. Fourteen -I Used To Live Alone Before I Knew You by Irishrose
17. Fifteen - I've Seen Your Flag On The Marble Arch by Irishrose
18. Sixteen-Love Is Not A Victory March by Irishrose
19. Seventeen - It's A Cold And It's A Broken Hallelujah by Irishrose
20. Eighteen- There Was A Time You Let Me Know by Irishrose
21. Nineteen - What's Real And Going On Below by Irishrose
22. Twenty - But Now You Never Show It To Me, Do You? by Irishrose
23. Twenty One - And Remember When I Moved In You by Irishrose
24. Twenty Two- The Holy Dark by Irishrose
25. Twenty-Three - And Every Breath We Drew Was Hallelujah by Irishrose
26. Twenty Four - Maybe There's A God Above by Irishrose
27. Twenty Five - And All I Ever Learned From Love by Irishrose
28. Twenty Six - How To Shoot At Someone Who Out Drew You by Irishrose
29. Twenty Seven- It's Not A Cry You Can Hear At Night by Irishrose
30. Thirty - It's Not Somebody Who's Seen The Light by Irishrose
31. Chapter 31 by Irishrose
32. Chapter 32 by Irishrose
33. Chapter 33 by Irishrose
34. Chapter 34 by Irishrose
35. Chapter 35 by Irishrose
36. Chapter 36 by Irishrose
37. Chapter 37 by Irishrose
38. Chapter 38 by Irishrose
39. Chapter 39 by Irishrose
Prologue - A Secret Cord by Irishrose
Author's Notes:
Nominated at Love's Last Glimpse Awards Round 14!
Prologue
“So what does my super girl want now that she’s a big five year old in school?” Joyce asked as she tucked Buffy into bed.
“A Barbie car,” she answered enthusiastically. “And a horse. I want a horse. And can I name the baby?”
“I think your dad might have some say in that,” Joyce smiled as she tucked the covers under little Buffy’s chin. She placed a kiss on the child’s forehead before saying goodnight and turning off the light. Softly padding to her bedroom and climbing into bed, she winced slightly at a sudden sharp little pain in her chest. She really was going to have to give up the Asian food, she thought to herself.
“Buffy all tucked in?” Hank asked his wife as she settled in. When he didn’t get a response, he glanced up from his book to note that she looked concerned as she rubbed a spot on her chest.
“What’s the matter? Baby giving you heartburn again?” He asked as he leaned over to place a kiss on her cheek.
“Yeah, that must be it,” Joyce said as she offered a small smile.
Ten minutes later she was sure that this wasn’t heartburn. This was worse. Much worse.
“Hank, something’s.....”
Hank looked up from his book again when his wife stopped talking. In a matter of seconds, he saw the concern in her eyes turn to panic before becoming eerily void of emotion. The last thing he heard from his wife was a strange gurgling sound erupting from her throat.
“Joyce?” Hank prodded. “Joyce?!...... JOYCE!!”
**********
Two hours later.....
“Mr. Summers, I presume?” The doctor called as he entered the small white waiting room.
“Yes! How’s my wife?” Hank anxiously asked as he balanced his sleeping daughter on his hip.
“We were very lucky. We were able to perform an emergency c-section in time. You have a beautiful baby girl. She’ll be in the nursery for quite a while, of course. We will need to monitor her closely to make sure there’s no further complications, but I think she’s going to be just fine,” the doctor smiled.
“And my wife?” Hank again requested.
“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but there was nothing we could do. She suffered what’s called a pulmonary embolism. It’s a blood clot in the lungs. It sometimes happens in pregnancy. There’s nothing that you or your wife could have done. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Hank barely heard the doctor’s final apology as he sank down into his chair, processing the news.
His wife was gone.....
He had two daughters to care for.......
And his Joyce was gone......
The following night Hank crawled into a bottle, and Buffy’s life would never be the same again.
**********
“Mommy! You can’t go there!” Buffy asserted as she stepped between her mother and the big building with the white doors.
“But, sweetie, Dawn is coming. It’s the only place we can find her. I have to go in there,” Joyce said as she leaned down and tucked a stay hair behind Buffy’s ear.
“No mommy! I’ll find Dawn. I’m a Supergirl, see?” Buffy said as she pulled up her jammies to show a blue jump suit with a large “S” across the front. “If you go in there, the hospital monster will get you.”
Buffy turned around as a large white square monster stomped toward her. With several kicks to the legs and punches to the face, the giant square fell to the ground in defeat. Buffy turned back around to find her mother smiling proudly at her, and holding a small blanketed bundle.
“You saved me Buffy! And look, I found Dawn. You’re our hero,” Joyce proclaimed as she leaned down and placed a kiss on Buffy’s forehead.
“I’ll always save you mommy.....and I’ll help take care of the baby,” she smiled.
“Of course you will. You’re my super girl!” Joyce beamed.
One - The Minor Fall by Irishrose
Chapter 1
“Buffy,” Hank called from the hallway. “Buffy, are you listening to me?”
“Yes daddy,” she replied as she scrambled to make her way from the couch to her father standing in the hallway.
“Buffy, I’m going out for a little while. I have some work at the office and I’m not sure when I’ll be back,” Hank started.
“We’ll be really quiet for you, daddy,” Buffy affirmed, her little head bobbing up and down, not yet realizing her father’s exact meaning.
“Yeah, well, you better. What ever you do, you better not wake up Dawn. She’ll scream until I get back,” he said. “Now, *don’t* answer the door. *Don’t* answer the phone. *Don’t* leave the house, and *don’t* call anyone,” he instructed as he pulled on his jacket. “You do and I’ll be very angry with you, understand?” He asked. His anger seemed to already be exuding from him.
“But, daddy, aren't we going with you?” Buffy asked, her eyes wide as fear clutched at her. He wasn’t leaving her alone was he? There were all sorts of monsters and bad people out there who could come take her away without daddy there to protect her.
“Sweetie, I realize you’re not too bright,” Hank said as he rested a hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “But why on earth would I want to take you with me? Besides, you’re how old now?” He questioned.
Her face flamed with shame as she answered quietly, “eight...”
“What was that? Four?”
“Eight,” She responded a little louder.
“Six?” He pressed.
“Eight,” She said firmly, though still glancing down at the floor.
“Then start acting like it,” he insisted, giving her shoulder a small shove for emphasis. “Now, you’ll be fine. Just do what I tell you to, for once,” he said as he opened the door. “Buffy, one more thing, you better not tell anyone that you stayed alone tonight, and I mean anyone,” he stressed the last word. His eyes communicated his unspoken threat of what would happen if she disobeyed. “Got it?”
She nodded her agreement, watching through her eyelashes as her father turned and walked out the door. The lock clicked shut and Buffy found herself standing alone in the early evening darkness of her home.
She would be ok. Daddy had said so. She was in her home and nothing could come get her there. There weren’t really any monsters that would come get her anyway. They were only dreams and silly ideas that babies made up. That’s what daddy said. She wasn’t a baby anymore. Dawn wasn’t even a baby anymore. Daddy said she was a big girl now, too. What would she do if Dawn woke up? What would she do if something bad tried to come take her? Or tried to take Dawn?
She had promised her mommy that she would take care of Dawn. At least she thought she did. It was hard to remember sometimes. Was that something that happened, or something she dreamed? Memories of her mother came flooding back as she fought the tears that threatened to spill. She wouldn’t cry. Daddy didn’t like it when she cried and he would know. He always knew everything. He told her once that mommy always watched her and told him when she was a bad girl. She didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse.
A whistle sounded from the big window in the living room, startling Buffy out of her thoughts...Then a small tick arose from the back of the house... A large bang came from outside, sending Buffy scurrying up the stairs. She stopped when she reached the top, trying to calm herself. “Those are just noises the world makes,” she braced herself with the words her father had told her. Then Buffy heard what sounded like a knock at the front door.
Something wanted in.
Buffy quickly ran to the closet in her parents room. Daddy kept his golf stuff in there. She pulled out one of the clubs and clutched it to herself in terror. What was she going to do? She should hide. But what if the thing that wanted in found Dawn? She ran down the hallway and into her little sister’s bedroom. She slammed the door closed and turned the lock. As a sleeping Dawn stirred slightly, Buffy climbed up in the bed with her and pulled the covers up to their chins, still clutching the golf club in one hand.
“It won’t find us. It won’t find us. It won’t find us,” she chanted quietly, watching the shadows dance back and forth over the blinds covering the window. Finally, fear and exhaustion overcame her and she drifted off to sleep.
**********
The monster was big and dark skinned. It was kind of flat, but it was tall and bigger across than daddy. It had big pointy things coming out all around it’s head that branched off and made it look kind of like the deer she had seen in her books at school, but not exactly the same. Little Buffy stood firm, bravely clutching a large stick as her sister Dawn hid behind her.
“You can’t get us!” Buffy proclaimed.
“I will get you little girl. I will get you and I will take you away where all the bad little girls go,” the monster countered.
“I’m NOT a bad girl!” Buffy defended. “I’m a good girl. Now go away before I beat you up!” Buffy threatened the big tree-deer-monster.
“You can’t make me,” It announced.
“Oh yes I can,” Buffy replied, and proceeded to rush the monster, swinging with all her might. Blow after blow fell on the strange being until it howled it’s defeat and then drug itself away, scratching along with each pull. The sound filled her with a sense of accomplishment. She had defeated the monster, and she and Dawn were safe once again. As she returned to her sister, she pulled her close and hugged her. It made her feel warm and good. Just like mommy used to make her feel.
Two - The Major Lift by Irishrose
Chapter 2
Buffy chopped, hacked, and slashed at the massive yellow demon. But every time she succeeded in carving away one tentacle, it seemed ten more would come at her out of nowhere. Buffy thought the thing must have a hundred of the slimy, stringy, limbs. Just when it seemed she was making headway in slaying the monster, it would spurt a thick gloppy red goo at her. Both her and the demon were now covered in the mass of muck and ropey tentacles, and a casual outsider would have likened the scene to a collection of gore and intestine.
As she moved in to make her victorious killing blow, the beast opened it’s maw to emit a strange knocking sound, causing Buffy to hesitate momentarily. The demons she slew usually had more advanced communication than this. Some even traded insults with her on occasion. This was a little unusual. But then again, this demon didn’t seem too high on the scale of evolution. As she again poised herself to make the deadly blow, the demon spoke once more. The hollow cracking noise became more insistent, this time accompanied by a name..... “Buffy”.
**********
“Buffy,” Dawn repeated. “Buffy, the door! You better answer it,” the young girl said, pulling on Buffy’s shirt sleeve and thus the preteen from her daydream.
“Door? What are you...” Buffy began as the knocking repeated once more from the front door. Buffy set aside the spoon she was using to stir the spaghetti sauce and ran for the door. It must be a stranger, she reasoned. No one but strangers came to the Summers house. Friends, family, and teachers all knew to stay well away from there. Hank didn’t tolerate even friendly interference in his family, and he was well connected enough to make those who tried, wish that they hadn’t.
Buffy peeked through the bottom of the glass in the door. She was just barely tall enough to see out if she stood on her tiptoes. Standing on the other side of the door was a boy. He didn’t look to be much older than her, maybe a year or two. He had medium short hair that fell across his forehead in light brown curls. He was kind of skinny looking, and his face stood out in jagged angles.
As she contemplated who the boy could be, she heard him utter a colorful curse as he turned to leave the porch, prompting a giggle to burst from Buffy. The boy must have heard her laugh, because he froze in his place and turned back toward the door, giving it a curious glance. Her loneliness and curiosity getting the better of her, Buffy decided to chance finding out who he was. She cracked the door open just enough to squeeze her face into the opening.
“Can I help you?” Buffy said so softly, it almost qualified as a whisper.
“Um, yeah, ‘s your mum home?” the boy asked in a accent she had only heard on the television.
Buffy’s eyes fell to her feet as she shook her head.
“No? Ok, how ‘bout your dad?” He pressed, trying to see around the small opening.
“No, he’ll be home soon though. Can I give him a...um..a..message?” Buffy asked hesitantly.
“Don’t suppose you’d know if your mum has any ‘cream of tarter’ would you? We just moved in next door, and my mum can’t find hers in all the boxes. Still determined to make my dad’s favorite pie though,” the boy said, rolling his eye. The little look of annoyance brought forth another tiny giggle from Buffy. “Oh, name’s William, by the way,” he said, smiling a little.
So he was their new neighbor. Well, dad wouldn’t get too upset if she just helped the neighbor would he? It would be the proper thing to do, and dad always said they should act proper.
“I’m pretty sure I do. Dad always makes me use mom’s old recipes and a lot of them call for it.” Buffy replied with a shrug.
“So, you do the cooking instead of your parents? Little young aren’t you?” William asked with a very confused look.
“Um...well, my...my mom died when I was little, and dad..he doesn’t like to, so I do it.” Buffy clarified. “And I’m not too young, I’m twelve,” she added defiantly, one hand on her hip.
“Okaaaay,” William drew out. “But you do have the stuff, right?”
Buffy nodded, her posture relaxing a little. “I can’t give you a lot though, dad gets mad if I let us get low on stuff. My name’s...”
“Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy,” a small excited voice called from the interior of the house.
Buffy stepped back from the door and turned to face the panicked sounding Dawn, letting the door unintentionally open a little wider.
“Buffy! The sauce!” the girl urged her big sister.
“Oh my God!” Buffy exclaimed, eyes wide. Without another thought, Buffy abandoned the boy at the door and ran back into the kitchen.
“So, who are you?” Dawn asked innocently.
“William. Just moved next door,” he smiled down at her. “And who are you?”
“I’m Dawn. Buffy’s my sister. I like your hair.” Dawn commented.
“Thanks,” He answered, his hand coming up unconsciously to comb through the short curls.
“No, no, no, no, no,” an urgent plea cried from inside the house, drawing both Dawn and the new neighbor in toward the kitchen. The pair arrived at the door to see Buffy frantically trying to save what remained of the dinner she’d been preparing.
“Ohgodohgodohgodohgod,” Buffy rambled. “He’s gonna kill me.”
“Probably,” Dawn agreed evenly.
Buffy glanced at the clock and gave a squeal of panic, then began rummaging through the cabinets, plucking various cans and spices from within them. “It’s ok, Buffy,” she mumbled to herself. “You’ll just fix a new batch and hope he doesn’t kill you. Oh crap! I don’t have any more mushrooms. I can’t make it without mushrooms. The receipt says mushrooms. He’ll freak out if I don’t have mushrooms. Who am I kidding? He’s gonna freak either way. God, why don’t I have mushrooms?” She was now nearly sobbing as she rambled.
“Um...Buffy? It’s just sauce, pet. I’m sure your dad will understand. I mean, it’s not the end of the world,” William said, drawing a bitter laugh from Buffy.
“No, not the end of the world. Just the end of me,” Buffy replied, then asked, “Do you have mushrooms? Please tell me you have mushrooms.”
“I have no idea!” William responded, incredulous. “How the heck should I know if my mum has mushrooms? And what do you mean ‘the end of you’?” he asked as Buffy set about starting a new batch of sauce.
Dawn tugged on his arm. “She means daddy’s gonna be *really* angry when he gets home. You can hide with me if you want to. I have a really good spot in the basement,” she offered. “But you can’t tell anyone where it is,” she added, her finger waving in earnest to indicate her seriousness.
“William!” Buffy commanded his attention. “Do you have mushrooms or not?” she demanded, as she started stirring ingredients together.
Buffy feared she’s lost William somewhere. His brows were scrunched together, his mouth frozen in an unvoiced question. Apparently he was trying to figure out what exactly he’d stumbled into, poor guy. Just as an answer to her question seemed forthcoming from him, a motion at the door to the dining room caught Buffy’s eye. In the doorway stood her father, with a look on his face that gave Buffy the overwhelming urge to run.
“Buffy, what’s going on here. Why is there a *boy* in my house?” Hank asked.
Buffy stood frozen. Her mind seemed to have abandoned her to her fear. She couldn’t answer either question at the moment.
**********
William stared at the man who was standing in the door. This must be the girls’ father. Whom else would just walk into the house. Ok, so he had just walked in the house himself, but he was just trying to help. The girl had sounded right terrified when she fled from the front door.
Now, she looked like she was about to pass out, or maybe run. He wasn’t too sure at the moment. And where had the little bit gone off to? The kid had scampered off like some sort of practiced felon. And now the unknown man was staring at him with a very unfriendly expression. The girl still looked about to die of fright at any moment, and William thought he was beginning to understand why. The man seemed a bit on the scarey side. He didn't understand it, but he felt a need to intervene on the girl’s behalf. Deciding quickly on his next move, William walked toward the man and extended his hand.
“Name’s William, William Giles. Just moved in next door. This is all my fault, really. My mum sent me over to borrow something for a pie.”
Hank’s demeanor seemed to change instantly. “Hank Summers,” he said as he shook William’s hand. “I appreciate your chivalry son, but to be honest my daughter does something like this all the time,” Hank shook his head sadly. “I should probably send her to reform school, but I’m sure they’d just send her back. Now, what was it your mother needed?” He asked, smiling brightly.
The friendly smile took William off guard momentarily. Maybe he had been too quick to jump to conclusions. Then again, the man was spouting some pretty harsh words.
“Uh, oh yeah, Cream of Tartar,” he fished from his memory. “That’s what it was.”
Hank seemed to hesitate a moment, a look of perplexity on his face. He walked over to a cabinet and began rifling through it. “Buffy, where did I put that spice he’s needing?” he asked.
Buffy snapped out of her state, and pulled a small glass jar out of the cabinet next to the stove, handing it gingerly to her father. William noticed she never looked up from the counter top as she did so. Something weird was definitely going on here. Everyone was acting weird.
Hank took the bottle from Buffy, gave the label a cursory check and handed it to William. “Well, there you go son. Tell your mom she can keep it. I was going to buy a new bottle when I went to the store tomorrow anyway. Anything else I can do for you?”
“No, sir,” William responded. “Sorry ‘bout the dinner. Didn’t mean to distract the girl. I’ll just see my way out,” he said as he backed toward the front door.
“Nice meeting you. And tell your parents ‘Welcome to the neighborhood’,” Hank smiled and gave a small wave.
“Will do. Thanks again,” he said, holding up the jar of white powder.
**********
“What happened? You get lost trying to find the neighbor’s house?” Angel called from the couch, never looking up from the video game he was playing. The living room still had several boxes that needed unpacking, but evidently Angel had found the game console.
“No, you ponce, I had a run in with the Addams family that lives next door,” William replied.
“Their name is Addams?” Angel asked.
“No, moron, the whole family’s completely mental. Not unlike you I’d wager,” William taunted as he proceeded to the kitchen.
“Did they have any?” Jenny asked as he walked in.
“Yeah. Said you could keep it too. Don’t really fancy trying to return it anyway,” he said, setting the bottle on the counter next to the mixing bowl.
Jenny silently searched his face. He hated it when she did that. She’d only been married to his dad a little over a year now, but somehow she always knew what he was thinking. Too bad her son hadn’t inherited his mum’s intelligence. Angel was bloody stupid, and had the hair to match. Angel was only a year older than him, but William really hoped he didn’t turn into such a dolt when he was fourteen. In fact, he already had plans. He was going to be the exact opposite of his step-brother. Ice couldn’t be cooler than he was going to be.
Jenny’s laugh brought William out of his contemplative thoughts. She had a pretty smile and her laugh was usually infectious. She gave her step-son a gentle pat on his shoulder. “I’m betting Angel will be mocking you in a year or so too,” she commented as she went back to her baking.
“I think your mom’s psychic,” William commented as he plopped next to Angel, seizing up the second game controller.
“Or it could be that you’re a half-wit,” Angel offered.
“Better than a no-brain like you,” William retorted, as both boys settled into playing the video game.
After long moments filled only with small grunts and varied curses, Angel finally spoke up. “So, what happened?”
“Met the neighbors. Couple of girls. One’s pretty small but the other is only a year younger than me. She’s not too bad, but her dad’s a complete psycho.”
Angel smiled, “Didn’t like you, huh?”
“Laugh it up, gel boy. The little one was telling me the best place to hide when her dad got home,” William persisted.
Angel seemed to contemplate that a moment. “So, you think there’s something funny over there?”
“Something’s definitely fishy,” he started. “And I don’t mean the food.”
**********
“Stupid, freaking, dumbass, William. Not even my night to take out the trash. It’s his night. But nooooo...he has to go and be all golden boy and volunteer to do the dishes instead,” Angel mumbled as he carried the trash bag through the yard. “I hate doing the trash,” he continued, throwing the large bag into the trash bin in the alleyway.
As he turned to walk back toward the house, a soft whimpering sound caught his ear. He stopped and turned his head, trying to identify the source. He was only met with silence. When he finally decided he was hearing things and started toward the house he heard it again. Distinct this time. Someone was out here, and whomever it was, they were crying.
As he homed in on the sound, he found a small blond girl sitting behind the trash bin. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and her head was down with her hands interlaced behind it. Her arms were draping down to cover her head. It looked a lot like the crash position they teach you on airplanes.
“Hey....you ok there? You hurt?” Angel asked as he edged up to the girl. He must have startled her, because her head shot up and her eyes went as wide as dinner plates. Her face was flushed and covered with tears causing bits of her hair to stick to it. There was something else there too, but it was difficult to make out in the dark.
“Who are you?” The girl asked as she scrambled to stand up and started inching toward the house next door.
“I’m Angel. I live here,” he pointed over his shoulder to his new house.
“I...I, um...I’m fine,” she said, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “I should get back inside, I was just bringing out the trash,” she mumbled as she turned to flee.
Before she could take more than a step, Angel’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm eliciting a squeal and a very noticeable flinch from the girl. Angel eased his grip, but didn’t turn loose of her as he tried to meet her eyes. She never would look at him though. She just stood there, cowering away from him as best she could. Angel slowly brought his other hand up and gently turned up her chin with one finger. He then ghosted his fingers across a darkened area covering the side of her face.
“It...it..it’s nothing. I tripped on the steps coming out here, that’s why I was crying. Stupid really,” Buffy quickly supplied, before considering he hadn’t even asked her the inevitable question. “I really should get back. I’ll get in trouble if I’m out here too long,” She tugged against the hold he still had on her, and chanced looking at him for a moment. Angel met her eyes, and studied them as long as she would let him. Then he simply nodded and let go of her arm. He watched her as she walked back to her house, occasionally looking back at him as she went.
He had been unprepared for the pain he had seen in her. She was so tiny and fragile looking. But at the same time, she had a definite look of strength in her eyes. He also knew darn good and well what that mark on her face was, and he was going to do something about it. Ok, so he was fourteen and he didn’t know what he could really do, but he had to do something.
**********
William looked up at him as he walked through the back door. Then he did a double take, his eyes narrowing as he studied him. Sometimes Angel wondered if maybe his mother had shared her mind reading tricks with William. The brat could read others like nobody’s business, especially for a kid.
“So, I take it you met the neighbors,” he said, more statement than question.
Angel nodded affirmatively, his hands finding his pockets. “Just the girl. The older one.”
“Buffy,” William supplied, again studying Angel. William finally blew out a heavy sigh before asking, “Guess it wasn’t my imagination, was it?”
Angel shook his head. “She had a bruise, left cheek.”
“Bugger,” William spat. “Well, guess we tell mum and dad.”
“Probably should. Think your dad will kill him?” Angel asked.
“Not if your mum gets to him first,” William answered.
“I can live with that,” Angel shrugged.
Three - The Baffled King by Irishrose
Chapter 3
“A job,” Buffy repeated. “But what about school? And Dawn? And my chores?”
Hank stared down at his eldest daughter with a look that instantly had her regretting her impromptu line of questioning. If there was one thing Hank Summers did not abide, it was anyone questioning his judgment.
“I don’t think I like your tone of voice young lady,” he said through clenched teeth. “Now, I suggest you apologize for your error before I decide to get angry.”
“Sorry,” Buffy whispered out just before she suddenly found herself sprawled on the floor. Hank’s slap had caught her unprepared and sent her reeling before she realized it had even happened.
“Don’t *lie* to me,” her father said, standing over her An accusatory finger was pointing at her and his breath was coming in angry gasps. “You think you can just lie to me and get away with it?” Hank brought up a hand and rubbed his forehead in a clear show of annoyance. “I know you’re about as sorry as you are smart, Buffy. But, you’re damn lucky I’ve been so patient with you these last ten years. Do you think anyone else would have been as patient with you? Hell no! Now, get up and try to pay attention to me for half a minute,” he finished.
Buffy stood, careful to avoid looking at her father. Eye contact seemed to upset him more when he was like this. If she just kept her head down and stayed quiet, there was a chance he would calm down a little. The submissive stance was one she was well familiar with by now. She just had to keep doing this a few more years until she got out of the house, and then everything would be ok. She could actually live. See something besides the tops of her shoes.
She didn’t have to avoid eye contact with her friends. Sure, she only had a couple of them. There was a quiet little shy girl named Willow and a goofy kid named Xander, and there were also Angel and William from next door. They were all better friends than she could ever have hoped for.
Most other kids would studiously avoid her once they found out who she was. Everyone seemed to know who she was, even if they didn’t know at first that she was one of *the* Summers girls. After they found out, all she would get were sideways glances and piteous looks. She didn’t need those. She was going to get away from her father one day and take Dawn with her. That was the only reason she stayed now. As long as she was there, Dawn was safe. No, she didn’t need their pity or their sadness. She would emerge victorious. Someday.
The next slap only sent her stumbling sideways just a little. She shouldn’t have let her mind wander. That was a really stupid thing to do when dad was talking.
“See! You can’t even focus for two seconds!” Hank shouted at her, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I’ll make it really simple, Buffy. I’ll write down exactly what you’re supposed to do each day. Even you should be able to follow a simple list. You follow the list, everything will be fine. You don’t follow the list, you’ll see what my temper is *really* like, understand?”
Buffy simply nodded her agreement.
“Good,” he said. “Now, it took me a long time and a lot of work to get someone to agree to hire you. If you do one thing, and I mean one *single* thing, to screw this up, you may not live to regret it. Am I clear?”
Buffy forgot her own rule of keeping her head down, as she stared with trepidation at her father. He was truly a scary man in his own right, but he’d never really done anything more that smack her around and scream at her. Most of her more serious injuries had even been accidents on his part. Things that had happened as she fell or ran into things. And she didn’t believe most of what he said anymore, but if his face were any indication, his latest threat seemed very genuine.
“AM I CLEAR?” he shouted, drawing his hand back to deal another slap.
Buffy flinched and shrank away from her father, but she quickly indicated her understanding with a nod as she returned her gaze to the floor.
“Good,” he began. “Now, Mr. Buchanan expects you at the shop by four o’clock every afternoon. You *will* be there, and you *will not* mess this up,” he finished. “Now, get started on the dishes. This place looks like a pig sty.” Without further preamble, he picked his jacket up off the hook in the hallway and made his way out the door.
**********
Spike had almost flipped his lid when he found out about the job. He all but begged her not to do it. Even offered to give her money instead. He’d said he could get money if they needed it that bad. When she refused, telling him her dad would know and that he’d worked really hard to get her this job, Spike stormed away mumbling words she didn’t know the meaning of, though she was pretty sure they belonged in the cursing category.
Buffy had been working at the repair shop for a few weeks now. It really wasn’t a bad job, all she had to do was answer phones and balance the books every evening. He was offering to pay really well, though she doubted she would actually see any of it. Dad said she needed to start paying for her "maintainance".
Mr. Buchanan had been really nice, too. Buffy couldn’t remember the last time an adult had been so nice to her. The little shop had a front office area that she stayed in, and a large back area away from view where all the repairs were done. It was really cluttered back there, but he seemed to know where everything was.
But today, Mr. Buchanan had spent much of the afternoon in the front of the shop. Requesting to review old receipts, and asking her to show him last weeks summary. She almost didn’t notice when his hand gently closed on her shoulder as he reached across to pick up a pen and note something on the sheet.
The next few days passed without incident. The old man began showing her around the shop, teaching her various tools and their uses. It was all kind of interesting actually. She didn’t really have much of a mechanical nature, but it wasn’t too difficult to learn.
However, today had been one really long afternoon. Buffy really hated Tuesdays. Nothing ever happened on Tuesdays. No one ever came in the shop, and the time seemed to grind to a halt.
“Buffy,” she heard him call her name.
“Yes sir?” she answered.
“Can you come here for a second?” Mr. Buchanan requested.
Buffy got up and made her way back to the bench at the back of the workshop. He looked up at her and smiled. He had a really warm smile, and he used it a lot. “Can I do something for you?” she asked, when no further request seemed forthcoming from him.
“Have a seat,” he said as he vacated his work bench.
Buffy stared confusedly for a moment.
“It’s ok, the chair won’t bite,” he smiled.
Buffy hesitantly took the proffered seat, glancing at each of the tools and parts scattered around the bench. She was actually beginning to remember their purposes now. His cool hands on her shoulders startled her for a moment, causing her to jump a little. He laughed, then requested she tell him what was wrong with the small piece of equipment sitting in front of her. She picked up one part, and thoughtfully examined it. As she did so, his hand began to rub her shoulders in small circles. Buffy dropped the hunk of metal, and tried to rise from the seat. This didn’t feel right at all. However, his firm grip on her shoulders prevented her from moving.
“Mr. Buchanan, please let me go,” Buffy requested firmly. She pushed against the workbench with her hands, and again tried to maneuver out of his grip.
“No, I’m quite comfortable with you where you are,” he replied.
“Well, I’m not!” she shouted, as she managed to free herself and put several feet of distance between them.
“Oh, I beg to differ,” he said, his small smile covering his face again. Buffy didn’t think it looked warm any more. “I think you were very comfortable.” His smile now seemed to take on a smirk quality as he stepped towards her.
“No!” Buffy shouted. “You come any closer and I’ll leave. In fact, I quit!”
The man paused and seemed to consider her words a moment. He rubbed his chin a couple of times before finally putting his hands into his pockets.
“Ok. That’s your choice. I’ll just let your father know how much trouble you’ve been, and how hard it’s been for me to keep you on all this time.” The lie seemed to easily roll off his tongue as if well practiced.
“You can’t say that! I haven’t done anything wrong!” Buffy exclaimed.
“No, just running off all my customers. Running my business into the ground. I’d even wager you were skimming money from the drawer,” he answered coolly. “Yeah, your dad warned me about you. Too bad I have to tell him he was right. I’m sure he’s going to miss all the money you could have made for him. Gotta keep all those pretty little secretaries happy now, doesn’t he?”
Her father’s words started replaying in her head. Would he make good on his threat? Surely not. He wouldn’t go that far...... would he? Her eyes closed in resignation. She just couldn’t be sure. Her life may not be worth anything to anyone else, but it was still valuable to her. And Dawn. She had to be around to take care of Dawn.
The old man grinned maliciously at her. He had her, and he knew it.
“See you tomorrow at four,” he said, turning back and taking his seat at the bench.
Buffy ran from the shop as fast as her legs would take her.
The next day, Buffy showed up for work at 4:01. He was standing at the counter. His arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes seemed to sparkle when she walked in.
**********
Angel decided he had stayed away from the shop long enough. When Spike informed him of where Hank had insisted Buffy would be working, it had taken both Spike and his dad to keep him from marching next door and pummeling the crap out of Buffy’s father. Everyone in town knew of old man Buchanan’s preference for young girls. He couldn’t keep his hands off them, and he’d pretty much exhausted his supply in the small town. It was bad enough Buffy’s father abused her, now he was practically pimping her.
His friends had all urged him to give up on trying to help Buffy. Everyone in town had tried in the ten years since her mother’s death, but no one had been able to. Hank had all the important people in his pocket. Angel had even tried convincing her to just run away with him. Buffy simply smiled and asked just how exactly a fifteen year old and a seventeen year old with no skills were going to live. And since she also refused to do anything unless she could take Dawn with her, she was certain the police would hunt them down if they left and Angel would go to jail.
Angel moved from his thoughts as he strolled up to the repair shop. At a loss for what else to do, he and Spike came to an agreement the day before that they would stop by the shop every day. If the owner knew someone was checking up on her, maybe he wouldn’t be eager to try anything. He reached for the door handle, and found it locked. It seemed a little odd to Angel for the shop to be closed at 4:30 in the afternoon. He glanced through the window, but didn’t see Buffy or anyone else at the front desk.
After peering through the glass for several seconds, he heard Buffy’s distinct voice shouting from somewhere inside. Quickly remembering the back door he passed, Angel sprinted around the building. He pulled open the door to find Mr. Buchanan had Buffy locked in his arms. She was screaming for him to let her go. Rage like he had never felt before boiled up inside him, and the world slipped into a red haze.
He grabbed the old man by the back of his head and got an arm in between him and Buffy. He pulled the arms from around her, and shoved him hard against the closest wall, then began pummeling him. Even though he was only seventeen, Angel was no small boy. He was well built, and physically imposing. The older man had been caught off guard, and found he was unable to protect himself from the beating Angel was issuing.
When the shop owner finally slumped to the ground, Angel abandoned him and turned his attention to Buffy. She appeared to be unharmed, though greatly disheveled. Grimy hand prints covered her shirt. She was sobbing uncontrollably, and Angel couldn’t even get a proper response from her. He scooped her up in his arms and cradled her against his chest. As he made his way to the door, he paused long enough to give the slimy guy a hard kick to his ribs.
“You touch her again you freaking bastard and I’ll be the last thing you see before you die,” he bit out.
**********
Angel brought her home, cleaned her up, and tried to get her to leave once more. She refused him, yet again. He just didn’t seem to understand that as long as Dawn was home and had to live with her dad, Buffy couldn’t go anywhere. She just couldn’t abandon Dawn like that. She had done her best to make sure that the nightmare they lived, wasn’t as nightmarish for Dawn. Her little sister was the only thing left of her mother in this world, and she would die to protect her if she had to.
Buffy was really glad Angel had showed up when he did, but she pushed him out the door to her house as soon as she was semi-coherent. Her dad would be home soon, and finding Angel consoling her would not bode well. She wanted to make everything appear as it usually did. Maybe she could buy a day or two to come up with something. Hopefully Mr. Buchanan would be too embarrassed at the beating he’d received to tell her dad about it right away. She had no doubt that he would find out, and Mr. Buchanan would surely somehow make it all out to be her fault.
She had been wrong.
It didn’t take a couple of days....
**********
Giles approached the gathered group standing outside the hospital room. They all knew this day would come. That one day the cry of the ambulance would be for one of the Sunners girls. They just didn’t know when it would be. He fished his handkerchief from his pocket to clean his glasses. He always thought that maybe just one more time would help to finally see everything clearly and understand.
“The officer said that Mr. Buchanan has reported that he was struck by a motorist who failed to stop. Hank has given a statement that when he came home, he found Buffy at the bottom of the basement stairs unconscious,” he informed the tired looking assemblage.
They stood staring through the glass into the room. Angel was inside, his elbows propping his head up as he leaned against the bed that contained a very bruised and bandaged Buffy who was sleeping at the moment.
“As for Buffy, she seems to have corroborated Hank’s story, telling them she was retrieving laundry when she slipped and fell. As usual Dawn didn’t see or hear anything, since she was in her room upstairs at the time.”
William, or Spike as he now insisted on being called, let out a fierce growl as he grabbed a nearby chair and gave it a toss, he then kicked another chair across the waiting area just outside the room before he finally sank into a final chair, his hands threading through his newly bleached hair, displaying his complete frustration.
“One of these days that man is going to die a horrible death, and I don’t think anyone will care,” Xander said coldly.
“Xander...” Willow whispered, though it didn’t have the reproach it she thought she should have given it.
“I should kill him myself,” Giles mumbled quietly.
“So, what do we do now?” Willow asked hesitantly. “How can we help her?”
“I don’t know Willow,” Jenny answered. “I just don’t know.”
**********
”You would think that all of you demons would figure out that this is *my* town.” Buffy said as a round house connected with the creature’s jaw. “But then again, you vamps aren’t the brightest bulbs in the box, are you?” A sharp right brought a satisfying crunch with it.
“Yeah, well, word is that you don’t tend to do much fighting back blondie,” the vampire taunted, as his own foot connected with Buffy’s knee. The blow sent her off balance for moment, but she recovered quickly. “I heard you’re like an old Timex. ‘Takes a licking and keeps on ticking’,” the vamp smirked, the licked his lips suggestively.
“Well, at least I’m still ticking. Which is a lot more than I can say for you. I mean, who the heck would sire an old geezer like you anyway?” Buffy retorted. A back handspring brought her feet into contact with the vampire’s jaw, sending him crashing backwards into a tree.
“Oh, there’s lots of demons like me out there,” he answered, deflecting her blows and throwing his right fist at her. “You just don’t recognize most of them.”
“And I’m not big on learning to recognize *you* either,” she replied, as she grabbed his hand and spun around, the move twisting his arm behind him. “Now, say goodnight Gracie,” Buffy instructed as she drove her stake home through his chest. The vampire looked at the girl in stunned silence, before erupting in a cloud of dust.
Buffy heard a scream sound behind her, and turned around just in time to see another vampire explode. Standing behind the vanishing cloud was Angel. His hand was outstretched and holding a stake.
“Thanks,” she smiled. “It’s nice to have help sometimes.”
“All you have to do is ask,” he replied. “You know, it doesn’t hurt to have help....even if you are The Slayer.”
“Maybe one day the demons will quit coming and I won’t have to be,” she replied sadly.
Four - Composing Hallelujah by Irishrose
Chapter 4
“Come on, answer the door. Even you can't screw that up,” Jenny mumbled to the door, her toe impatiently tapping. She'd rung the bell at least three times, knowing full well he was home. As she debated ringing a fourth time, she finally heard the tell-tale footsteps approach the door. With a few clicks, the door opened at last.
“Jenny! Hello, sorry it took me so long. I was upstairs when you rang. What can I do for you?” The man asked, holding the door slightly wider as a full smile graced his face.
“Well, I was on my way home,” she responded, brushing past Hank and walking straight into the living room. “Thought I would stop by to see how you were coping with Buffy's unfortunate accident.” She glanced around as if she'd never really seen the inside before.
“Well, you know, it's been rough,” he answered as he affected a very concerned look. “But, the doctor said she didn't think there would be any long term damage. I'm sure she'll pull through just fine, ” he smiled confidently.
“Yes, I'm sure. Where's Dawn?” She questioned curiously.
“Over at a friend's. I don't think she can bear to be in the house where Buffy hurt herself.” The reply came out so spontaneous and convincing that Jenny wondered if he actually believed that.
“Yeah, I'll bet that's it,” she smiled. The silence that followed stretched uncomfortably. It was Hank who finally broke it.
“Oh, boy, where are my manners. I was just having a drink to celebrate the doctor's good news. Care to join me?” He asked, waving the glass in his hand.
“Gee Hank, I wasn't aware you needed an incentive to celebrate,” she offered in reply. Hank's countenance froze momentarily, but he recovered quickly.
“Not sure what you mean by that,” he stated.
“Oh, nothing,” she covered. “Say, I heard your firm offered you a new position. Lots of travel and everything,” she casually remarked.
“How did you....I just heard....you can't have.....” Hank fished.
Jenny shrugged, “News travels fast. So, I assume Buffy will take care of Dawn while you're gone?”
Hank laughed out loud. It was a harsh sounding bark of a laugh, that cut off abruptly as a look of repressed anger cut across his face. “No, I haven't accepted the position. I couldn't leave Buffy and Dawn here alone. In case you haven't heard, Buffy's too stupid to handle the laundry, much less take care of Dawn.”
“I really wish you hadn't said that,” Jenny sighed.
“Yeah, well, I wish Buffy had half a br....” Hank replied sarcastically, only to be cut off.
“But I'm kind of glad you did,” Jenny offered with a steamy glance. “If you hadn't, I couldn't really do this,” Hank watched Jenny as she slowly eased forward, approaching him with all the grace of a feline predator. Fire sparked from her eyes as a knowing smile curved her lips. This man was sooooo predictable.
Hank remained frozen in place as Jenny took the glass from his hand, her other hand snaking up his arm. It trailed across his shoulder, to gently cup his cheek. She licked her lips anxiously, patiently awaiting his response.
“And I'm glad that you're glad,” Hank finally said as his initial shocked expression turned to one of anticipation. After a moments pause, he dipped his head down to pursue the promise of her waiting lips.
Jenny tilted her head up slightly as she leaned in further. Their lips now just inches apart. Jenny knowingly smiled and set into motion. Her knee came up swiftly, slamming with brutal force into Hanks sensitive crotch.
The unexpected move instantly sent Hank's hands to cup the offended area. As he doubled over from the pain, Jenny's hands gripped his hair and expertly pulled his head to meet with the second blow from her knee. The man dropped like a stone to his knees as he covered his face, his aching manhood fast forgotten. Blood was already starting to seep between his fingers from his nose, as surprise and confusion reigned in his eyes.
“What the hell was that for?” He screamed indignantly.
“That,” she began, “was to make sure I have your attention.”
“You bitch!” He cried from beneath his fingers. “I think you broke my nose!”
That comment earned Hank a meeting with Jenny's right fist, sending him sprawling sideways in the floor.
Jenny squatted down, balancing her elbows on her knees. “Now, Hank, let's try this again shall we?” She smiled sweetly, “Do I have your complete attention yet?”
The man wisely kept his mouth shut, just nodding affirmatively.
“Good,” she responded with cheer. “Now, I worked very hard on making sure you were offered that position, so you *will* take it. You will also sign a Power of Attorney to Rupert and I to take care of the girls while you are out of town.”
“I will *not* sign over my kids,” Hank seethed, now sitting up a little.
“I didn't ask you to. You will simply have us a guardians in your *many* coming absences. You will still have all your parental rights,” Jenny offered.
“You can't just come in here and demand Buffy and Dawn,” he stated. “You think you're the first to try? Not even close.”
“Yes, I am well aware of what everyone has tried. But I'm not some little girl you can slap around, and I'm done trying conventional methods to protect those girls. In fact, Rupert and I are more than willing to try unconventional at this point,' she menaced.
“What do you mean?” Hank questioned, shrinking back slightly.
“You know,” she said as she stood up, her hand propped on her hip as she swiveled around. “This house sure is dangerous. I mean, with all the accidents Buffy's had, it's amazing you've been so lucky to avoid them yourself.” She turned back around to face Hank, her expression conveying her intent. “But you can't really tell when your luck is going to change, can you?”
Hank eyed her, his face clearly skeptical, as she pulled a packet of cigarettes from her jacket pocket. She slid out a cigarette and placed it between her lips. Then pulled out a lighter and glanced at him as she asked, “You don't mind if I smoke do you?”
Not getting an answer, she shrugged and lit the cigarette. As she puffed at the cigarette, she calmly picked up the glass Hank had been drinking from earlier. Without warning, she tossed the drink in his face, eliciting a surprised shout from him. She settled back into a squatting position in front of him, the hand containing the cigarette lighter held directly in front of his face. She looked purposefully into his eyes and with a flick of her thumb, the little flame sparked to life.
“You're freaking crazy!” Hank exclaimed, trying to scramble back, but found he was against the wall and had no where to go.
Jenny nodded appreciatively. “Probably,” she responded. “But I'm not the one who got drunk and then had a tragic smoking accident,” she finished, very matter-of-factly. Hanks eyes widened as he realized that she was entirely serious. “Now, do we have an understanding?”
Hank paused, as if considering a moment. Jenny simply shrugged and leaned forward, “Have it your way.”
“OK! OK!” He shouted. “Whatever, just don't.....don't kill me.”
“Deal,” she said cheerfully, clicking off the lighter. “One more thing Hank, the girls will never know about our little arrangement. I'll have my attorney bring the papers by tomorrow. And don't think you can weasel out of this,” she said as she made her way to the door. “You really wouldn't want to find out what Rupert had planned for you. My plan was much quicker and involved a lot less pain,” she finished with a smirk, then closed the door behind her.
**********
Giles glanced up as his wife made her way down the hallway outside Buffy's hospital room. She was bearing a thermos that he hoped contained tea. He was really in need a calming cup about now. He hadn't left the hospital yet, nor had Spike who was currently sleeping in a chair situated in the hallway. Angel hadn't even left the room since the nurse had allowed him in.
“Where'd you go?” Giles asked, as Jenny hugged him strongly.
“Ran by the house. Figured you could use this,” she said, holding up the thermos.
“Have I told you how amazing you are lately?” Giles asked, as he took the offered tea.
“You just did,” she smiled. “How are they?” Jenny asked looking over at her step son, then through the window at Angel. “Both sleeping I see.”
“I tried to convince them to go with Willow and Xander, but they both refused to leave,” he explained.
“Hmmm. Should I be jealous that all three of my men are enamored with a younger woman?” Jenny asked teasingly.
Giles smiled slightly at her comment. Jenny really had an unusual sense of humor. “Speaking of younger,” he began, “someone should see to Dawn.”
“Oh, I ran into Hank when I was at the house. He said Dawn was over at a friends. Janice's I would guess. I'll talk to him tomorrow and get him to let her stay with us until Buffy is better,” Jenny informed him.
“Hank may not be bothered to care for Dawn, but I don't think he'll agree to that,” Giles commented.
“Oh, you never know, he's might appreciate the offer,” Jenny argued.
“Appreciate, perhaps. Accept, no. We've never had luck before trying to get them away from him for even a short amount of time, why would we be able to now?”
“I just have a feeling our luck is about to change,” Jenny stated casually, then leaned up to place a gentle kiss on her husbands cheek before disappearing into Buffy's room.
If Giles didn't know his wife better, he would say she was up to something.
Five - Your Faith Was Strong But You Needed Proof by Irishrose
Chapter 5
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N-Warning. Chapter has implied intercourse between an eighteen year old and a minor of sixteen.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The last year and a half had been a dream come true for Buffy. She had long ago stopped believing that miracles could happen, but she was beginning to think maybe she was wrong about that. It was the only explanation she had for her current situation. Her father had received a promotion to a new position at work that took him out of town, heck out of the country, for very long stretches and not infrequently either.
Buffy had been terrified when she first learned about it, thinking that she would be even more isolated than she had been. She feared she would have to say goodbye to the only people she knew. The only ones who really ever saw past the specter of her father. She was afraid she would be forced to give up her friends. Traveling would've been nice, but not having a drunken and enraged father around was even better. He still popped in for a few weeks here and there, but for the most part, he was gone.
For some reason, Hank decided that he would rather leave her and Dawn here in the care of Mr. Giles and Jenny. They had become the parents she thought no one really had any more. Jenny was an amazing cook. At first, it had been awkward to sit down and have pleasant meals with wonderful conversations every evening.
They were very encouraging with both her and Dawn. They weren't pushovers but seemed to understand that both her and Dawn were in entirely new territory. They still made sure their grades were kept up, and everyone had their share of responsibilities in the house. Buffy could almost pretend that these people were her true family.
Dawn was fast embracing Jenny as a mother figure, and Buffy was glad. She had done her best to be everything she could to Dawn, but with only five years between them, she knew she fell far short. And Giles, who was very much the stuffy type to the outside world, had a determination and sweet disposition that conveyed his concern for them all.
Spike had instantly taken up the big brother position with Dawn, and he indulged her far too often. Dawn was just getting into that phase where boys were dreamy and Spike's cultivated bad boy image was exactly the kind of thing a girl like Dawn could spend countless hours fantasizing about. Spike, for the most part, seemed oblivious to this.
He had also become Buffy's best friend. They spent many evenings sitting together and mocking the shows on TV. It seemed that there wasn't anything she couldn't tell him. It had been that way before, but was even more so now. He was a really good listener. He even encouraged her to share the stories of what she could remember of her mother. His own mother had died of cancer. He had only been a few years older than Buffy was when her mother had died.
Then there was Angel. Even at the age of sixteen, she was certain that this was her true love. He was her protector, her dark champion. He had a kindness about him, and he was always so gentle with her. As if he thought she were made of glass, and he had to protect her lest she break from misuse. He had made a show of dating a few girls in high school, but none of them stayed with him long. His entire world seemed to be wrapped up in her, and the other girls didn't take that very well. Now, her and Angel were officially an item. Which was no small thing, considering she was only sixteen and he was eighteen and about to start college in the fall.
Angel now lived in an apartment near campus, with a roommate; a really creepy guy named Warren that had gone to school with them. Angel didn't like him really, but the rent was cheap and it got him out of the stigma of living in his parents' house while in college. Buffy frequently found herself there, especially on weekends since school was out and her chores were done. It was nice to be able to spend time with a man who thought she hung the moon. Which led her to her current situation.
They were sitting on the couch in his apartment, making very heavy with the smoochies. She was very glad he had an apartment now, because anytime they tried getting a little time alone at the house, Spike or Dawn seemed to choose that exact moment to interrupt them. Now, however, the only person to interrupt them was Warren and he was in his room on the computer most of the time.
This week had been a rough and long one. Her father had been home and it was getting more and more difficult each time to make the transition back and forth. The happiness she enjoyed with the Giles had her resenting being with her father even more. This week he had been a real ass too. He'd even threatened Dawn, whom he usually just ignored. Of course, Buffy had intervened and brought his wrath upon herself.
But he had left town earlier that afternoon, and she was desperately needing to connect with the feelings she had for her surrogate family. Unfortunately, they were all busy today. Spike was off with his insano girlfriend, and Giles and Jenny were having a “date night” as they called it. Dawn was camped out at Janice's, which left her with Angel, whom Buffy was more than happy to connect with.
Buffy mewled as Angel's hand gently caressed her thigh. Their kisses were becoming more and more urgent. They had never gone past the petting stage. Angel had previously forbid it, and Buffy was inclined to follow his lead, usually. But tonight she wanted to be loved and held and cared for; she wanted to feel the tenderness and sweetness and adoration that only Angel had for her. Tonight, she wanted Angel. All of him.
So, she took the proverbial bull by the horns, or horn as it were. This elicited a deep moan from Angel. They had gone this far before, but Buffy found she wanted more, she wanted...
“Love,” she mumbled. “I want to feel loved Angel.”
Angel pulled back slightly as he looked at her with confusion. “I do love you. You know that don't you?”
“Show me,” she whispered, as she looked into his eyes. “I want you to show me.”
Angel's eyes widened as he realized what she was asking. He shook his head, vehemently opposing, though he couldn't seem to find his voice.
Just when Buffy thought he might speak, she brought her hand up and covered his lips. “Sshhhh. I know. I've heard all the arguments. But, I need this right now. It won't matter in the long run if we started a little early. You said yourself you want us to be together forever, remember?”
“God, Buffy, I do!” Angel exclaimed. “But you're still so young. You should be out there having fun with your friends, not making plans for forever with me.”
Buffy looked shocked. She felt rejected. Had Angel grown tired of her? Did he want a girl his own age? She couldn't help it as tears formed in her eyes and fell unbidden down her face. Angel immediately saw them and pulled her in to his encompassing embrace.
“No,” he said firmly. “Don't doubt us, Buffy. I do love you. I do,” he repeated, now rocking her gently. “God knows I've tried, but I can't stop.”
“Me either,” she whispered as she leaned up and pulled him into a kiss. Feather light at first, it soon deepened into a consuming kiss. Both of them desperate to convey the depth of their feelings.
Breaking the kiss, Angel whispered uncertainly, “Buffy, maybe we shouldn't.”
“Don't. Just kiss me.” Buffy answered, leaning back in.
It was the final moment of waiting. As Buffy began to lean back on the couch, Angel stopped her. He scooped her up in his strong arms. As he carried her into his bedroom, Buffy continued their kisses. As they fumbled their way through the awkward right of passage, in her innocence Buffy couldn't help but feel that finally, after eleven years of waiting, she was well and truly loved.
Six - You Saw Her Bathing On The Roof by Irishrose
Chapter 6
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N -Warning-Implication of non-consensual sex.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“OH MY GOD!” Willow screeched, earning herself panicked shushing from Buffy. “Sorry! Oh my god,” Willow whispered out. “You're serious?” Buffy simply smiled and nodded affirmatively. “When? How? Ok, so I know how, but what's it like?”
“Well,” Buffy began, “a little strange at first. I mean, all those romances you read?” Buffy paused to ensure Willow was following the story, “It's nothing like that. Well, maybe a little. The first time was weird, but after that it was amazing,” Buffy fairly radiated with her happiness.
“After? There's been an ‘after' already?” Willow asked, incredulous. “You've been holding out on me, Buffy Summers. I demand explanations.” Willow sternly wagged a finger at Buffy, and put on her best resolve face.
“I'm not holding out, much. It's only been about a couple of months now and there's only been a few times. But, that's not even the best part,” Buffy teased.
“There's more?” Willow gasped.
Buffy nodded her head, a large smile covering her face. She looked like she was ready to explode from her barely concealed excitement.
Buffy reached inside her blouse and pulled out the necklace secured around her neck. Dangling from the chain, was a small silver colored ring. A small but tasteful diamond winking brightly in its setting. The band however had a beautiful and extensive design carved into the band.
Willow's gasp probably could have been heard around the block. “Oh, Buffy, it's beautiful!” She exclaimed. “Why on earth aren't you wearing it?”
“We haven't told everyone yet. Angel just wanted me to have it now, to show he means that I'm ‘the one'. We're going to wait until I'm out of school though, so we thought we would hold off on alerting the press,” Buffy smirked.
Willow looked to be on the verge of happy tears, but couldn't seem to hide the tidbit of concern from the person she considered her best friend.
“Out with it Willow,” Buffy commanded. “I know you want to say something. It's ok. Soap box away.”
“I'm happy for you, Buffy. I really am,” Willow began. “It's just, don't you think you guys are a little, I don't know, young for that type of commitment? I mean, you two haven't even really seriously dated anyone else. How do you know things will work out? How do you even know if he means it? Maybe he just asked you to get you to... you know....”
“He's not like that ,Willow. You know that. Besides, I was pretty much the one that instigated the whole thing. He was completely unprepared,” Buffy stated. “Well, not completely. Because, you know, all guys our age are ‘prepared' now,” Buffy said, putting the word in air quotes. “It's like how girls are always prepared for a monthly emergency. It's guy preparedness,” Buffy finished.
“Okaaay. That's in the realm of TMI, and kind of ‘ew', but also good to know,” Willow responded. “So, you were safe then?”
“Safe as houses,” Buffy confirmed.
Willow's alarm clock suddenly sounded. “Oh! Time to call Oz, he gets home from rehearsal at eight.”
“That's my cue as well,” Buffy responded. “Angel's taking me to the movies tonight. If I get there early we can probably work in a quick make out session,” Buffy grinned conspiratorially.
“Oh, ok. You want me to walk with you?” Willow asked. “Angel can probably drop me off on the way back by.”
“Nah, I wouldn't want to cut in on your Oz time. I'll call you tomorrow,” Buffy said as she waved goodbye to her friend. Willow nodded her confirmation, and returned the farewell as she picked up her phone and dialed Oz's phone number.
**********
It was really a beautiful evening. The shadows were just starting to stretch as the darkness crept in. The days were just starting to get shorter, but there was plenty of light still to make her way to Angel's apartment. The warm evening breeze gently played with a few strands of her hair that had come loose from her ponytail. All in all, it was a perfect evening and Buffy was glad for the chance to get out and be alone. It was nice to have a little time to contemplate her happiness, which was finally beginning to look like it wasn't some big fairy tale after all. Maybe there really was such a thing as a happy ending.
She almost didn't notice the clunker of a van as it followed a little behind her. A tell-tale squeal from its brakes broke her out of her reverie. As Buffy began glancing around to see if anyone was nearby, she recognized the van through the growing darkness. It was big and black, and she could make out the large picture of the Star Wars Death Star painted on the side. Only one person in town owned a vehicle that lame....Warren.
Buffy stopped walking as Warren slowly pulled up next to her.
“Buffy, hey,” Warren called in greeting. “I'm headed to the apartment. You want a ride?”
“Yeah, want a ride?” A skinny brunette haired guy asked from the passenger seat. Buffy couldn't remember his name. She'd seen him hang around with Warren a lot. Tucker! That was it.
Buffy contemplated the offer a moment. It was a nice night and she was enjoying the walk, but on the other hand, if he was heading that way anyway...
“I don't know. I kind of felt like walking.”
“Suit yourself. Just thought if you were going that way I'd give you a lift. I'll tell Angel you're on your way over,” he shrugged. “If you're sure you don't want a ride that is.”
Buffy thought one moment more. It was a little on the rude side to snub him. He may be a creepy nerd, but he was harmless. And he did live with Angel. She might as well be a little nice to him. He had always been nice to her.
“You know on second thought, we're all gonna end up in the same spot, so I might as well.”
“Hop in,” he smiled.
**********
Spike barely made it out of the convenience store with the pack of cigarettes before he was tearing open the wrapper. He was on the outs with Dru again and the only thing that could calm him down was his smokes. He had to be really careful with them though, his mum and dad would string him up by his toe nails if they caught him smoking. Sure, everyone knew he did it but as long as no one actually saw him, he could plead innocent.
As he rounded the corner of the building to get to his car, he heard a familiar voice coming from behind the store. It belonged to that stupid ponce that lived with Angel. Oh, and look, there was the geek-mobile sticking out a bit. Whom ever he was with sounded pretty urgent. Stupid idiots were probably trying to roll one of the local drunks and getting more than they bargained for.
It really wasn't any of his business, Spike thought as he lit a cigarette and puffed hungrily. But he had made friends with a few of the local drunks. They were pretty willing to do favors like buy a six pack for you, especially if you gave them a beer or two for their trouble. And rescuing a local from the idiots might earn him a freebie.
Mind made up, Spike ambled around the corner cautiously, keeping to the shadows. Warren was talking to that skinny friend of his while he held out a can of beer and poured it out over a pile of rags. Well, this was getting more and more interesting.
“What if she squeals?” Skinny asked.
“Look, we tell them we dropped her off here, and after that we don't know what happened,” Warren said matter-of-factly.
“Then why do we have to waste perfectly good beer?” The other whined.
Spike thought it was a pretty good question. No sane guy poured good beer on a drunk. It didn't make sense.
“Look, I told you. If anyone asks, we tell them she was wasted when we ran into her. With the rep her dad has, no one will think twice about it.”
“Oh, yeah!” The other one smiled and nodded appreciatively.
“Ok, now, let's get out of here before someone sees us.” Warren glanced nervously around.
Spike leaned back behind a stack of wooden crates as the two guys climbed into Warren's van and drove off.
When he was sure the van was out of sight, Spike walked over to where they'd been standing. He was more than a little curious as to who they were talking about. He tossed away what was left of his cigarette as he approached the spot. The sight and smell that greeted him almost made him puke before he regained his composure. Then his anger took over. He'd have to pound the crap out of Warren later, and he was definitely going to have to talk to Angel again about finding a new flat.
Whom ever she was, the girl was lying on her side. Her limbs were in a position that looked like she'd just been tossed down haphazardly. He guessed her hair was blond or maybe brown, but it was caked with what looked like fresh blood, dirt, and beer, so it was hard to tell, and it was in a huge mess that covered her face. Stupid sodding wankers had probably roughed up some hooker.
She was partially concealed by a cardboard box they probably threw on top of her, but it was easy enough to see what was left of her clothes were in torn rags and the whole pile reeked of the beer Warren had just poured over it, mixed with trash and blood and sex. Spike reined in his anger again and knelt down to see if the poor thing was even still alive. Suddenly, a small sparkle caught his eye. It was a ring attached to a thin chain around the girl's neck. Spike stared at it for a moment before he realized he recognized it. He'd only ever seen one ring with a band like that, and it belonged to Jenny. Well, actually, now Angel had it. He'd heard him ask her for it a few days ago.
Fear clutched at Spike as he quickly reached out and pushed the girl's shoulder back. Her head lolled back with it, revealing her face as some of her hair fell away.
“Buffy!? Holy Christ!” Spike shouted. He quickly felt her throat for a pulse. Breathing a small sigh of relief on finding one, he swept up the unconscious girl and sprinted the short distance to his car. He quickly slid her into the front seat and climbed in. As his car sped out of the parking lot, he fumbled for his new cell phone and issued orders to Angel to meet him at the Emergency Room. He then called Jenny and made the same request, telling them both simply....
“It's Buffy.”
Seven - Her Beauty And The Moonlight by Irishrose
Author's Notes:
Some dialog from Prophecy Girl
Chapter 7
Five days passed and Buffy was still refusing visitors, but it was easy enough for him to sneak past the nurse keeping watch over the room. As the door creaked open and he stepped in, he noticed Buffy was staring out the window. It was a dark, drab, room. The television wasn't even on. The only light in the room was that supplied by the window, which was half covered by the blinds.
“I told the nurse no visitors,” her voice called from the bed, though she never turned to see who had entered. Her voice held almost no emotion to it, giving him a hollow image in his mind that he wasn't used to associating with Buffy.
“Well then, I guess it's a good thing I don't care what the nurse said,” Spike replied as he closed the door behind him.
“Go away,” Buffy answered, finally turning to face Spike. Her face was pale and drawn and her eyes were circled in a deep purple that indicated her lack of any decent sleep. Her head was still bandaged, and she was covered in all too familiar bruises.
“Can't. Brought something of yours I think you'll want back,” Spike answered, as he took out the little chain with the silver ring attached to it and dangled it in offering as he stepped next to the bed. “The nurse gave it to me when I brought you in.”
Buffy looked at the necklace and ring longingly. Spike saw the fingers of her hand bend and flex, and he thought momentarily that she would reach for it, but then she turned away and stared out the window again.
“Give it back to your mom,” Buffy whispered defeatedly.
“Why would I do that?” Spike blurted. Wincing at his harshness, he continued much more softly, “It's yours now isn't it?”
“Nothing is mine anymore,” she wearily replied.
“Bit of an exaggeration don't you think?” Spike asked, brow creased in the way only Spike managed to pull off.
“How dare you!” Buffy spat out. “How can you come in here and tell me how to think, or feel. You have no idea what…what they…. You have no idea…” she trailed off.
“You think I don't know what happened?” Spike asked, incredulous. “I'm the one who found you, for Christ sake! Got an assortment of images of it burned into my brain. Can't stop the damn shaking when I even think about...”
Spike paused as he tried to reign in his emotions and calm his visible trembling. Pushing back the still fresh fear and anger, he spoke again, more quietly this time, “I know damn well what happened. What I don't know, is why you are using it to shut out everyone who cares about you.”
“No one really cares,” Buffy answered quietly. “It's all a big fairy tale. Good, and light, and love...all of it. Just stupid stories to make kids think there might be something right in this world.” After a moment, she added, “But there's not. I get it now. There is no happily ever after.”
“Just because a few sodding fucks have to be cavemen, you think no one gives a damn anymore?" Spike ranted. "What about dad and Jenny? What about Willow and Xander? Or your sis?”
“Obligation, guilt, opportunity, I don't know. It isn't good, or caring, or loving, or whatever you want to call it,” she paused. “Not for me,” Buffy finished as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“And what about m...” Spike started, but caught himself. His eyes closed and his hands fisted and flexed a few times before he continued. “What about Angel? You think he just stopped loving you because of what some two-bit wankers did?”
“I don't think.....” Buffy had to pause as her voice broke. After several seconds she tried again, “I don't think Angel will still...”
“Rubbish,” Spike interrupted. “Buffy look at me,” he ordered. When she made no move to do so, with two fingers he gently urged her to face him. “Buffy, he loves you. So much so, it's killing him that you won't see him or even talk to him. He doesn't know how not to love you.”
“Maybe I can't love him,” she whispered.
Spike drew in a deep breath as he studied the ceiling for several seconds before finally answering.
“Buffy, you have more love and more hope inside you than any person I've ever known. You've been through nine kinds of hell, and yet you still give a piece of your heart freely to anyone who'll take it. If anyone can love, it's you. Just don't forget to let others love you back.”
After what seemed like an infinity to Spike, Buffy looked up at him with tear filled eyes as she asked in a small voice, “You think he'll still want me?”
“I know he does,” Spike answered firmly, as he gently traced her cheek with his hand.
Buffy hesitated only a moment before leaning up and hugging Spike to her. Spike held on to her for what felt like both ages and only seconds, as he murmured words of comfort and rocked her as best he could in the awkward position. He rocked her to sleep with a story of a beautiful girl who marries a handsome if not broody fellow and they have beautiful babies together in a nice little house with a pretty picket fence. Nothing bad ever happened, no one ever died, and they all lived happily ever after.
And with every line, Spike's heart broke a little more.
**********
Buffy leveled the crossbow as the ancient vampire disappeared yet again. He effortlessly caught the bolt before it found it's mark, and snapped it in his hand.
“Well, the witty banter hasn't become any better over the centuries. Such a shame,” he mocked.
“Gee, and I thought we were having a meaningful discussion,” Buffy retorted. “Too bad your sense of humor died with you.”
“And just what, pray tell, died with you?” he grinned maliciously.
“You mean, besides some dumb prophecy?” Buffy batted her eyes innocently at The Master, eliciting an angry growl.
Buffy lunged forward, catching him off guard with a quick right punch. The Master quickly recovered and his hand shot out, his dangerous talons slashing towards her. Buffy anticipated the move, but not quick enough as one long claw caught her shoulder. It burned, but she fast forgot it as his other hand moved to grab her. She could not, would not, let his fangs find her throat again. At the last moment, she stepped back then sprung over the vampire's head in a somersault. She took only a fraction of a second to spring again as she landed behind him. Her left foot come into sharp contact with his pale, disfigured face. The vampire stumbled back and brought his hand to swipe at the blood erupting from his features, and looked at her in shock.
“This isn't right,” he indignantly informed her. “You were supposed to stay dead when I killed you!”
“What can I say? Don't believe everything your foretold,” Buffy shrugged.
The Master rushed forward in his anger, a fierce growl meant to freeze her in fear, erupting from him. Buffy planted her front foot, waiting a split second before she pivoted and stepped forward, leaning down and tucking her shoulder in. The move caught him square in the abdomen, and she used his own momentum to propel him over her back. As he landed in a heap of black leather, she spun back around, having retrieved the shattered crossbow bolt. With one quick motion, she rammed the small piece of wood home. A piercing scream echoed through the night air, as his flesh cleaved from his bone, and all that was left was a brittle skeleton. The little bolt, clacked noisily through the vacant ribcage onto the ground.
The battle was over. Apocalypse averted. She had won. Ok, so he'd killed her...briefly...early in the battle, but her friends had come through and saved her. She had overcome what should have been the end of her, and defeated The Master. A little smile lifted one corner of her lips. Maybe some things did turn out ok after all.
a/n- Thanks to everyone for your *incredible* patience as we start getting to the Spuffiness. However, the torture (yours that is!) has only begun!
Eight - She Tied You Too A Kitchen Chair by Irishrose
Chapter 8
To say the last four weeks had been difficult, was a colossal understatement. Buffy was released from the hospital shortly after Spike confronted her. She'd spent most of the time since then sleeping, crying, retching, or screaming; sometimes all of them at once. She had an angry zombie look to her that had Spike worried, not to mention the others. But with school about to start she had begun moving around and even made a few trips to various places, always accompanied by someone, of course.
Jenny spent a fair amount of time in Buffy's room, looking rather worn when she finally emerged. Spike could tell his father was at a loss for what to say or do. He would often catch the elder Giles staring at the closed door with a look of sadness and longing, only to eventually turn away with a deeply resigned sigh. Spike could also tell that Dawn desperately wanted to talk about things, but everyone seemed to fear that she wasn't old enough to handle the answers to her questions. They all disregarded the fact she'd dealt with almost equally disturbing things in her short life thus far.
Spike spent more than a few hours just holding Buffy's hand and listening to things she was and wasn't saying. He'd spent even more hours wondering to himself how to help her. He and Jenny managed to coax her to eat small amounts each day, but nothing substantial and it was beginning to show. The already too thin girl was looking more sickly, pale, and tired each day, causing him to wonder if something more physical than mental was going on. His only consoling thought was that the police had run numerous tests on both Warren and his chum Tucker and both were apparently the picture of health.
Spike had to swallow the smile that quirked the corners of his lips when he thought about the "picture" of health Warren actually showed when he was dropped off at the Sunnydale police station. Spike and Angel had gone back to Angel's apartment the morning after Buffy's attack and found the pair there, acting as if nothing unusual had happened. However, once he and Angel demonstrated their interrogation techniques on Warren, Tucker felt himself moved to make a very tearful confession. The only thing that stopped them from likely beating the idiots to a bloody pulp, ok bloodier pulp, was the elder Giles showing up at the door when his sons had failed to return in a timely fashion. It had taken both of them to hold him back.
Angel gave up his apartment and moved back into the house, causing a mad shuffling of sleeping arrangements. Dawn now had her own room, as did Buffy. Angel occupied the basement while Spike took the ever so comfortable couch. Not that anyone ever got a lot of sleep.
Spike had hoped that Angel had worked out a few of his demons in dealing with Warren, but apparently he was mistaken. The problem was, Angel didn't seem to be part of the solution to Buffy's healing. In fact, he seemed to make things worse. Despite his frequent words of love and support to Buffy, any overtures of touching she initiated, no matter how innocent, were met with a look of fear as he flinched away from her.
Spike knew that Angel harbored no feelings of disgust, nor had his feelings for Buffy changed. In fact, he seemed to have elevated her to the status of a goddess for surviving the whole thing. But, Angel was deathly afraid that anything he did would trigger a memory of the rape. The more Buffy clamored for reassurances that Angel still loved and wanted her, the more Angel held himself away from her. This in turn only reaffirmed Buffy's fears of rejection.
Naturally, with Angel and Buffy being the two stoics they were, neither was telling the other about their fears. That was what he was for. Spike was fairly certain that he was now exceptionally trained, if he should decide to become a bartender, because he sure wasn't going to become a priest. He was actually thankful to have the house to himself this afternoon. Jenny had taken Buffy on some "girls only" trip. Angel was down at the college campus trying to arrange his class schedule so Buffy would never be left alone. Dawn was predictably off with one of her friends. Silence had never sounded so sweet.
Spike cursed his own foolishness at that thought when the phone rang. His karma lately was definitely lacking.
"'lo," Spike called into the receiver. He was met with a brief pause, before a high and obviously female voice answered him.
"Is this the Summer residence?" The voice queried.
"No, it's the winter residence." He replied, a smirk on his lips. He sighed when he was only met with silence. "This is the Giles' house, but some of the Summers' live here. Who you lookin' for?"
"Giles? Ah, yes. It's here on the chart. May I speak to Buffy Summers, please?" The voice replied.
Spike sat up from his reclined position on the couch, as little alarms started going off in his head.
"She's not taking calls. Mind me askin' just who it is that wants to speak to her?" Spike demanded.
"This is Amelia at Dr Goff's office. Can I leave a message for her?"
Spike's alarms were now ringing full tilt.
"Something wrong?" He asked, feeling the slightest panic.
"No, no...nothing wrong. I was just calling to inform her that her sonogram has been scheduled for Friday at two o'clock. Dr Goff wanted it sooner rather than later since he felt she may be a little further along than she thought," the woman informed him. "Will you have her call the office, please?"
Spike sat in stunned silence for a moment until the voice on the line prompted him.
"Sir? Mr. Giles?"
"Um, yeah. Yeah, I'll tell her. Thanks for callin'," Spike mumbled out as he hung up the phone. Things started clicking into place in his head. Scattered pieces of puzzle suddenly started fitting together. Even as the answers gave him more questions, he started seeing red. He was going to choke the whole lot of them for not telling him. That thought froze his whole mind for a moment. Why hadn't Buffy told him? As the one who knew more than the others about what had happened, Buffy had confided several things to him. So why not this? That thought stung him. Perhaps she didn't trust him as much as he thought.
Before that line of thinking could continue, the sound of Jenny's car pulling up in the drive interrupted it. Shortly thereafter, Jenny and Buffy strolled through the door, their conversation filled with a discussion about school starting soon. Spike simply stared at the duo, unintentionally drawing their attention. After he affirmed to them that everything was fine and he was going to catch a quick shower before dinner, the women watched him stalk up the stairs as Jenny mused aloud what was up with Spike.
**********
"Hey, luv," Spike said, pushing open the door. He found Buffy sitting alone on the bed staring out the window. Her dinner plate sitting untouched as usual on the bedside table. "Missed you at dinner."
"Yeah. I wasn't feeling too hot. Figured it would be better up here," Buffy responded. She looked to be lost in thought, and not in a sharing mood tonight.
"Probably feel a hell of a lot better if you actually ate something for a change," Spike pointed out, annoyance coloring his speech despite his effort to hide it.
"Don't feel much like eating right now. I'll eat something later. Promise," Buffy replied, trying to affect a reassuring smile, and failing miserably.
Spike nodded, acknowledging her response. "You want something else maybe? Crackers? Toast? I can't get you anything."
This drew a confused and slightly wary look from Buffy. After a moment she told him that what she had was fine, as her attention focused to some imagined piece of lint on the bed cover.
"Ok then," Spike shrugged as he turned to leave. "Oh! Almost forgot. Doctor called and said your sonogram is Friday at two," he said, looking over his shoulder to gauge her reaction. He was rewarded with an almost audible snap of her head. Her face was covered with a look of horror, followed closely by her eyes filling with tears.
Spike turned from the door and took a few short steps to stand next to the bed. "Why didn't you tell me?" Spike asked, bitterness tinged with a little desperation. "You know you can tell me anything, Buffy"
Silence reigned for several moments. As Spike's anger got the better of him, he turned to leave the room. He was right. She didn't trust him like he thought. As his hand reached once again for the door knob, her strained voice finally answered him.
"I...I didn't know how to."
"You didn't know how? 'I'm pregnant' is two words! Not that hard to figure!" Spike exploded. Seeing her hurt response as she closed off, Spike took several breaths to calm himself before moving back and sitting on the bed. As he reached out to smooth a strand of hair behind her ear, like he'd done countless times before, she flinched back as if afraid he would strike her.
"Buffy?" Spike asked as he withdrew his hand. "You know I'd never hurt you, right?"
Buffy looked up at him, anger shining brightly. "You just did."
Spike looked at her a moment before looking away from the accusation in her eyes. "Yeah, reckon I did."
"Can you forgive me?" Spike asked. "I was just shocked you didn't tell me something this important. Kind of brassed off a bit that no one did."
"They don't know," Buffy mumbled shakily.
It was Spike's turn to look stunned and confused.
"Your mom knows. But not Giles or Angel," Buffy quickly added. "I wanted to wait until after I saw this new doctor. And I just didn't know what to say. What can I say?"
"It's not your fault, luv. They'll understand. You don't have to make up excuses for what a couple of bloody wankers did." Spike reassured her.
Buffy suddenly seemed fascinated with the invisible lint again.
"Buffy?"
"It's not one of theirs," Buffy stuttered out so quietly that Spike was certain he hadn't heard her correctly.
"Come again?" Spike asked.
Buffy heaved a great sigh before looking up, briefly, and restating the sentence. "It's not one of theirs. It's...it's Angel's."
Spike blinked twice, reeling from that little piece of information. She and Angel had already… Christ, how could the sodding prick have… God, she was sixteen, Angel should have stopped… Stupid sod probably didn't think about anything except what it would be like to feel her…
"I'm gonna kill the blood pillock!" He ground out between his teeth, as he shot of the bed and covered the distance to the door.
"Spike, wait!" Buffy urgently scrambled off the comforter in an attempt to stop him, but the lack of food combined with her condition and the sudden motion apparently had her head quickly spinning. She would have had an unpleasant meeting with the floor if Spike hadn't been close enough to catch her.
As Spike lifted her and placed her back on the bed, he grabbed her glass of water from the table and sat her up, encouraging her to drink. A few tentative sips later she pushed herself up completely and gave Spike a dangerous look. There was the Buffy he remembered, She *was* still in there somewhere.
"You can't kill him Spike. He doesn't even know," She asserted.
"Then I can kill him once he does know?" Spike arched one brow in a questioning look.
"Yes. No! I don't... I mean... he doesn't know."
Curiosity got the better of him. "Why not? Has he done something? I'll kill him either way, but he'll suffer a little longer if he has," Spike assured her.
That brought the tiniest of smiles to her face. "No," she replied. "I just..." she trailed off, he face serious again.
"Tell me. Please," Spike requested.
Buffy searched his face a moment before nodding her agreement.
"I found out when I was in the hospital. Apparently it's part of all the testing they do. I don't remember a lot of it, seeing as how I had this nifty skull fracture and was sort of in and out of it. Angel and I were really careful, but I guess it wasn't careful enough. After everything that happened, I didn't think Angel would want me, us," Buffy hesitated as a tear traveled down her cheek.
"But you know that he does, right?" Spike asked.
"Does he?" Buffy responded, her voice full of doubt. "He doesn't even let me touch him. He won't hold me, or even touch my hand. He jerks away any time I get near him, like he's afraid I'll contaminate him or something. I don't want him to come back to me because of some obligation he feels," she finished.
Spike sighed. He was definitely going to have to talk to Angel, right after he beat him to a bloody pulp. In the meantime, "Buffy, he's just as scared as you are."
This brought a hearty but bitter laugh from Buffy. "Angel's scared of me? That doesn't help, Spike."
"That's not what I meant. He's afraid that you'll blame him because the idiot was his flat mate. He's scared that he can't protect you, and he's bloody terrified that everything he does will somehow remind you of what they did," Spike told her, spilling Angel's confessions to him and wondering why on earth he was defending the git. This should be his golden opportunity. His chance to...no. She didn't love him. Not like Angel. There were whole new reasons now to make sure she was happy. As much as he hated it, Angel could make her happy.
"What are you thinking?" Buffy asked Spike, when he looked to be suddenly lost in a sad thought.
Spike glanced up at her and gave her a quick smile. "That you're gorgeous and Angel's a stupid git that doesn't deserve you, even if he does make you happy."
Buffy quirked a little smile at him in response.
"And that you need to rest," Spike added, as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Get some sleep."
"Spike?" Her too tiny voice called to him, as he was leaving the room.
"Yeah, luv?"
"Thanks," She smiled. She almost looked like herself again for a moment.
He simply smiled back, and gave a slight nod of his head before switching off the light and closing the door behind him.
**********
"Spike, glad you're here. Can you hand me that box over there?" Angel asked, as he saw his step brother stride through the door into the basement.
Spike ignored the request and proceeded to walk straight up to Angel, draw back his left fist and belted Angel across the face as hard as he could.
Angel fell backwards, landing on his rear end in the middle of the floor.
"What the hell was that for?" Angel asked, rubbing his jaw. He shook off his stunned expression as he stood up. Before he was fully standing, Spike drew back and hit him a second time. This one didn't catch Angel quite as off guard. Angel pulled his own right hand back, and sent his fist flying in response to Spike's attack. Over the years, they'd had their share of arguments and occasional physical fights, but there had always been some warning. Spike wasn't the type to just jump someone.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Angel shouted, putting his hands up in surrender as Spike pulled back for another blow. "You keep that up and I'll have to kick your ass. What the hell is wrong with you?!" Angel demanded.
"You! You're what's wrong. And you couldn't kick my arse if you're sorry life depended on. You may be the jolly green Neanderthal, but I'm a hell of a lot faster and definitely more pissed off," Spike bit out.
"Okaaaay," Angel replied, his mind fishing for ideas to find out what was going on. "Mind telling me what brought this on before you take me down a peg, Mr. Fights-Like-The-Wind?"
"You and your damned insecurities. You're making things worse for Buffy and things are plenty bad as it is," Spike said, circling Angel as he searched for another opening for a punch.
Angel looked genuinely confused now. "I didn't do anything," he protested.
Spike laughed, "Oh, you did something all right. But, I'm talking about lately."
"No, you're talking crazy. More than usual," Angel groused.
"You're so full of your own stupid fears, that you can't see it's making Buffy's fears worse," Spike stopped his circling as Angel looked away, his expression appropriately contrite. "Every time you pull away from her, you're telling her you think she's damaged goods."
"You know I don't think that! I love Buffy!" Angel shouted.
"Yeah? Well try putting your own problems aside and showing her!" Spike shouted back. "She fucking needs you. Especially now." Spike's eyes went wide for a split second and then he suddenly clamped his mouth shut.
Angel started to shout something back, but stopped short. He stared at Spike a moment as it dawned on him that there was something Spike wasn't saying. It was practically shouting at him, he just didn't know what it was.
"What do you mean, 'especially now'?" Angel asked, his own anger rising. He didn't like being kept out of the loop. Not about Buffy.
Spike realized his slip had drawn Angel's suspicion, and quickly tried to cover it. "The attack."
Angel narrowed his eyes. Spike could bluff pretty well, but outright lying was a skill he'd never mastered.
Angel advanced on Spike, fury pouring from every one of his pores. He grabbed a fistful of Spike's shirt and demanded again, enunciating each word individually, "What do you mean, 'especially now'?"
As Spike picked his chin up, ready to stand his ground and meet Angel rage for rage, a quiet voice disrupted them.
"He means, now that you're going to be a father," Buffy stated quiet but firm. "They said at the hospital after…after…" Buffy paused, visably shuddering as tears escaped from her closed eyes. "They said I was already pregnant."
Angel stared at Buffy open mouthed before glancing back at Spike. Seeing the look on both faces, he quickly turned loose of his sibling. He stumbled back a few paces as he apparently tried to wrap his mind around the new information. Buffy continued to stand in the open door and she looked ready to flee should he reject her.
Spike took only a heartbeat to decide his move. Angel was going to cock it all up even more if he didn't do something fast. As Angel numbly dropped down on the edge of his bed, Spike stepped up to him and leaned right in to Angel's confused face... and grinned. He kept his voice low when he spoke, so only Angel could hear his next words.
"You aren't the only one who's in love with her, you know. All I have to do is wait. You'll bollocks everything up, and then I'll have myself one. good. day." Spike smirked again, as he noticed Angel's expression started to change. Just one more push should do it, "Find out for myself how she looks and feels when she… " Spike saw it coming, but made no move to stop it. Angel's fist slammed into Spike's jaw with brutal force. Angel shot up as Spike flew back, landing flat on his ass.
Spike laughed as he swiped at the blood trickling from his lip. Angel stepped over him and walked up to Buffy. Angel hesitated a moment, but then as Spike watched Angel sank to his knees and pulled Buffy to him; his arms circled her waist and he buried his head in her stomach. A second later Angel was sobbing out apologies and thanks and words of love all jumbled together, finally releasing the flood of emotion he'd been holding. Buffy hesitated only briefly, before her arms cradled his head.
Spike picked himself up and made to quietly leave them. As he squeezed past Buffy in the door, her hand grabbed his arm. He looked up at her, his eyes questioning. She said nothing, and yet her thanks went straight to his heart. His hand covered hers for a moment and he smiled before proceeding up the stairs.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
a/n -Thanks to everyone for their wonderful and insirational reviews! You guys are great! I know this has the dreaded cliche, but trust the tale!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nine - She Broke Your Throne by Irishrose
Chapter 9
Things were getting back to normal. As normal as they ever could be for Buffy, anyway. Giles and Jenny had spoken at length to Principle Synder, and he had grudgingly conceded to have Buffy's class schedule arranged so that either Willow or Xander, friends she intimately trusted, were with her at all times. Spike, Xander, and Willow usually walked her home each day. Willow would frequently stay with her, while Xander and Spike whiled away the hours becoming somewhat reluctant friends. When either Angel, Giles, or Jenny came home, Spike usually left for Harmony's house, only returning at ungodly hours of the night. Buffy was never left alone, except when she was in her room at the Giles' house.
Despite vehement protests from her surrogate family, Buffy had adamantly opposed any more counseling sessions. She'd attended a few, but the counselor had wanted her background and Buffy had a deep seated fear that if she told anyone everything that had happened in her short life, she would be locked away in a mental institution for good. The counselor refused to progress with further sessions since Buffy would not open up or be completely honest with her. Buffy felt certain this pattern would only repeat itself and thus refused to see a new counselor. So she dealt quietly, on her own, with help from the ones she considered family.
Spike hadn't walked her home today. He'd left school with Harmony in tow, but promised Angel that morning that he would be home by seven, since Angel had a school meeting at the college and Giles and Jenny would be out having some time to themselves. Buffy had been adamant they not cancel their plans, since she felt the couple certainly deserved any time they could get after everything they'd done for her and Dawn. Spike was a little late making it home however, and Angel had to rush out the door as soon as Spike showed up.
Buffy could have sworn she'd heard Spike utter one of his trademark Angel insults as he flung himself down on the living room couch. She watched as Spike pulled a mostly empty bottle of cheap whiskey from under his duster and proceeded to unscrew the top and drink down half of what was left. Buffy stood aghast at the sight before her. She'd heard Spike arguing with his father the last few weeks when he would return home at night, and he smelled suspiciously of alcohol lately, but she'd never seen him openly drinking. Something inside her railed against what Spike was trying to do to himself, and she had no idea why he was even doing it. She marched over to the couch and stood in front of him, blocking his view of the Monster Garage episode that he'd quickly become engrossed in.
"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" She demanded, arms crossed in obvious anger.
Spike looked at the remote in his hand, and then up at Buffy, his face set in amusement. "'S that a trick question, luv?" He asked, a heavy slur evident in his voice.
"Are you drunk?" Buffy asked, incredulous at his behavior.
"Utterly pissed!" He responded, a proud smile lighting up his face.
"Gee Spike, what's next? You've got the booze, how about a hooker to go with it?"
Spikes face took on a little smirk as he spoke. "Why pay for the cow, when you can get the milk for free, pet?"
Buffy was absolutely livid. "Speaking of cows, how is Harmony? What do you even see in her, Spike?"
Spike's face became a mask of cold hard anger, and Buffy felt as if his eyes were burning holes right through her as he bit out his reply, "Something that I can't have."
She was completely taken aback. This anger was directed at her, and she had no idea why. Confusion marring her face, she backed out of the room and fled to her own before the tears could come. She would not give in to that anymore. She was better than that. She would be strong and he would not hurt her. Besides, it was only the whiskey talking, something she knew all about. This was not the Spike she knew. Once he slept it off, he would be her Spike again. The true friend she had come to know.
Thirty minutes passed before a knock sounded at the front door. Buffy ignored it, assuming either Spike or Dawn would get it. After several seconds the knocking came again, more demanding this time. The doorbell starting ringing over and over as the pounding persisted. Buffy sighed in exasperation and made her way down the stairs to find Dawn standing a few feet in front of the door, visibly shaking and with a hand clasped over her mouth. Buffy quickly glanced over at Spike, who was soundly sleeping on the couch and completely oblivious to the noise. As Buffy pulled Dawn aside and looked through the glass, she discovered what it was that had Dawn so scared...her father. As her eyes widened with her own fear, Hank's eyes met hers and he momentarily stopped his attempt to beat down the door.
The pounding soon renewed and was joined with shouting as Hank demanded that Buffy open the door. She didn't have any idea why he was angry, just the absolute certainty that he was. Buffy's mind began fishing for options. She quickly eliminated the possibility of escaping the house. He would find them eventually, and his wrath would be even greater. She couldn't ignore him either. He would find a way in, and again he would be even more upset when he did. Buffy decided that the best thing to do would be to let him in and preoccupy him until Angel or Giles made it home, and she set into motion.
She instructed Dawn to wait until she told her to, and then let him in. Dawn frantically shook her head, but Buffy assured her that she and Spike wouldn't let anything happen to her. She could tell Dawn was still scared as hell, but she seemed to calm somewhat. Buffy ran over the couch, grabbing the phone off the side table and dialed Angel's cell number. It went to his voice mail, and she uttered a prayer of thanks that he had purchased a pager also in his need to ensure her safety. She quickly dialed the number and entered the code 911. With her free hand she was shaking Spike, almost violently, trying to rouse him. He simply mumbled something unintelligible and flipped over on his side.
Knowing Angel would call Giles and they would arrive in only minutes, Buffy decided she had done all she could. She calmly replaced the phone and nodded to Dawn as she straightened her clothes and hair as best she could and readied herself to look as demure and passive as possible. Dawn slowly crept to the door which was threatening to soon give way and she ever so slowly opened it.
Hank quickly pushed the door wide open, sending Dawn stumbling backward, as he strode into the entryway. His steely gaze took in the surroundings and seemed to assess everything around him, until his eyes settled on Buffy. "I'm going to ignore the fact that you deliberately tried to keep me out, young lady," he said as he took on the air that said he held all the control in the situation. Then he snorted, "well that's not quite right, is it?"
Buffy's mind almost froze in her fear that he had somehow found out everything that had happened in the last few months. Together, the group came to the decision that it would be best for everyone concerned if Hank not know what had transpired recently. There was no predicting his behavior if he discovered the exact nature of the relationship between Buffy and Angel, or her currently gravid state. Given his previous act of "selling" Buffy to Mr. Buchanan, and the contempt he seemed to hold Buffy in, they also felt his reaction to the assault would be less than favorable. So they didn't tell him, and held their breath while hoping against hope that by the time he did find out, a plausible explanation would be formulated, and a solution would have his hands tied.
But Buffy had no idea how much he did or didn't know, so she feigned innocence and hoped he bought it. He apparently didn't, since he grabbed Dawn by the arm and started dragging her small but protesting little body to the door.
"We're leaving, Dawn. I won't have you corrupted by a two-bit little snot-nose who spreads her legs for every boy in town," he seethed.
Dawn began pleading in earnest with Buffy, alternating her cries with shouts for Spike to wake up. Buffy's heart clenched as Dawn sobbed to her, "You promised! Buffy, don't let him take me! Buffy, please!"
Buffy reacted instinctively as she raced over to her father and grabbed the arm that wasn't struggling with a desperate Dawn and began pulling in the opposite direction. She realized a second later that it probably wasn't the smartest thing she had ever done, as Hank's movements ceased and he focused his undivided attention on Buffy. It was a small consolation to Buffy as she noted that in doing so, he released his grip on Dawn who promptly scrambled away. Dawn would have a hiding spot, and Buffy simply prayed it was a good one.
"You want to know why I'm home on an unscheduled visit?" Hank asked. Buffy simply nodded her head in agreement, looking only through her eyelashes to see his demeanor as his spoke. "I really didn't have much choice. You see, I was tracked down in Paris by Mrs. Meers, who told me this really funny story about you accusing her son of rape. So then I had to fly half way around the world to come take care of what Mr. Giles apparently can't handle."
Buffy didn't look up, but had enough steel left in her to counter his statement. "It's true daddy."
"Oh please. I've seen the way you behave. We both know it's all a lie, so we are going to clear up this little embarrassment by going down to the police station so that you can tell them the truth," he ordered, as he grabbed Buffy by one arm and shook her, as if to shake the truth out of her.
"I already did, daddy. Please believe me," Buffy pleaded.
"What I believe, is that you're a lying little bitch who's probably been sleeping around with half the school!" Hank replied, his anger rising to dangerous levels again. "What happened Buffy, did you get yourself knocked up and cry rape so everyone would feel sorry for you?"
Buffy's face would have been readable to a four year old child as she reeled in horror that he had guessed she was pregnant, and her free hand covered her abdomen of it's own volition. In her horrified stupor, she didn't even notice the look that crossed his face as he noted her reaction. Hank's other hand came around in a sharp backhand across Buffy's face that sent her flying backward into the coffee table, sending its contents flying, as he shouted at her, "You stupid slut!"
Buffy had a half second to note that, thankfully, Spike was now rousing and looked to be trying to get his drunken brain to process what the hell was going on. As she turned to check where her father was, and where she could scramble to, she saw a massive dark blur of coat and limbs send a fist flying straight into her unsuspecting father.
The world seemed to go into a surreal slow motion, as she watched Hank Summers lurch backwards and land in a heap a few feet away from her. She made no move, just simply stared at the sight before her. For the first time in her life, she saw her father scrambling backwards for purchase as he tried to figure out just what had happened. She continued to stare at him as she felt strong arms pick her up and gently place her on the couch. She heard sounds, and felt someone softly stroking her hair. Finally a name cut through her fog. It was her own.
Buffy could only manage a mute look as she noted it was Angel who was talking to her. She heard him spit out a command to Spike to take care of her as Angel turned away from her and strode over to stand over her father. Buffy felt certain with every cell of her being that Angel was about to kill Hank, and she called out to stop him as he bent over Hank. Buffy saw the look of terror cross her father's face, but Angel had frozen, his fist in mid-air. He glanced over his shoulder a moment before he dropped his fist and instead, he reached down and picked Hank up by his shirt front. From the corner of her eye, she saw Giles come skidding into the house, followed quickly by Jenny.
"Buffy is mine now. If I ever hear you speak to her like that or come anywhere near her, I will not hesitate to beat you into a bloody ooze," Angel spat as he shook Hank then threw him backwards.
Hank had the gall to look disgustedly at Buffy whom Spike was holding protectively, before he started laughing. One hand came up to wipe at the blood that was dripping from the river running from his lip to his chin. "Managed to finally reel you in did she? And here I always figured it'd be your brother who'd finally take what she was throwing out there. In fact, he probably did." A nasty little smile lit up his features as he looked Angel in the eye, "Did you know she's pregnant? It takes a pretty big man to raise his brother's child."
Angel leaned dangerously close to Hanks face. "In case you haven't noticed, I am a bigger man than you. But, it doesn't matter, because both Buffy and those babies are mine," Angel said, growling his final word.
Hank looked between Buffy and Angel for long moments before a truly evil smile took over his face. "Well, this is interesting. It seems I'll be going to the police station after all. They'll be very interested to know about your little activities with my minor daughter. I'm sure they will have no problem accepting that you sucker punched me to keep me from reporting your little sexcapades. And I have all the proof I need in Buffy."
Angel held a look of incredulity for a moment before he burst out laughing and stepped back from his place over Hank. Buffy looked worriedly from him to a confused looking Giles, and then to Spike, who still didn't seem to be quite up to speed just yet.
"You really are stupid aren't you?" Angel finally asked, still laughing. "You just assaulted your daughter, who you evidently knew to be pregnant, in front of two witnesses. I'll bet the Sunnydale police will be very happy to finally have the proof they need to nail you."
Hank had the intelligence to look suitably frightened as understanding took over. He looked around to each of the people in the room and finally looked to be resigned that he had lost this battle. He picked himself up and straightened his rumpled appearance with mock dignity before he stalked over to the door, beating his final retreat. At the door, Giles hand shot out and roughly shoved Hank against the door way with his forearm pressing insistently into Hank's neck. As his airway was cut off, Hank began clawing and pulling at the larger man's arm, trying to free himself.
"It would be best if you didn't come back, Hank," Giles said, spitting out the name with ultimate contempt and fixed him with a dangerous glare that sent shivers through everyone in the room. Except for Jenny who's face lit up with a knowing smirk. Hank managed to nod once, and Giles released the pressure against the man's throat. As Hank started to leave, Giles once more slammed him back against the door.
"One more thing, if your rash behavior has harmed Buffy's children in any way, there will be no where you can hide that I will not find you. Do you understand?" Hank again managed a slight nod and when Giles released him, he quickly escaped out the door while he felt he still had a chance to.
Silence reigned in the household for a moment as everyone processed that the threat of Hank no longer hung over everyone's heads. They were all finally free. It was Spike who finally broke the rare sound of stillness.
"Um, what just happened here?" Spike asked, still slurring somewhat.
Buffy was startled by an unholy roar from Angel as he launched himself over the coffee table and proceed to start pounding on Spike. The couch only absorbed a minimum of the blows as Angel held Spike with one hand and beat him with the other. After the first few punches, Spike started responding by kicking, bucking, and punching. He managed to throw Angel off of him and into the coffee table, which finally had taken too much abuse and shattered. Spike jumped onto Angel and was returning the beating Angel had been issuing him.
Buffy watched the spectacle before her, unsure who seemed to be winning the brawl. She looked to Giles and Jenny imploringly. Jenny moved to intervene but Giles held her back, shaking his head in a resolute "no." Buffy sighed, a bit relieved as she saw Dawn creep up behind Giles, her eyes wide. She was relieved Dawn had come out of hiding, but had more pressing matters at the moment. She turned back to the pair in front of her, a tangled mess of limbs and blows, and began shouting at them to stop. Buffy's emotions had taken the last strain they could stand that day when repeated shouts and pleas didn't seem to break through to them, and she collapsed into the floor next to them, a puddle of sobbing girl. Oddly, this seemed to reach them when nothing else could.
The fight stopped, and both remained frozen at the sight before them. In the years that they had known her, Angel had never seen her in such a state, and Spike had seen it only once. Angel seemed overwhelmed by it, and immediately looked contrite that he had at least partially been the cause of it. Spike however, scrambled off of Angel and over to Buffy. As he tried to pull her into a comforting embrace, Buffy shoved hard against him, pushing him away as she stood up. She wobbled dangerously for a moment, but Angel came to his knees and held her steady.
"Buffy," Spike started to say, holding a hand out to her. A desperate look in his eyes, which were already starting to swell from the fight.
"No!" Buffy interrupted. "You want to know what happened? I'll tell you. Dawn and I needed you and you were too damn drunk to help us. That's what happened." Buffy finished, teeth clenched against her anger. As she watched her words register with Spike, her expression softened to one of great sadness. "I trusted you to take care of us Spike. You promised me. 'Till the end of the world', remember?"
Spike reeled as if Buffy had physically struck him. As he stepped back, he tripped on a piece of the shattered coffee table and fell hard on his arse. He simply sat there, staring off into the space in front of him as Buffy turned and ran from the room, followed closely by Angel. To Giles and Jenny, and a still trembling Dawn, it was quite obvious that Buffy's words had hurt Spike more than any of the punches Angel had thrown.
"God, what have I done?" Spike asked, his words finally clear.
**********
Everyone had left Spike to contemplate the repercussion of his actions. Spike knew he deserved everyone's contempt, but no one could be harder on him than he would be to himself. Everything hurt, inside and out. He was still sitting in front of the couch, praying for any mercy that any god would bestow on him, and knew he was deserving of none. Someone had been listening however, as the combination of emotion, alcohol, and pain finally overtook him and he slipped into an uneasy sleep...
**********
"We're not all gonna make it. You know that." Buffy said. A simple statement of fact as Spike pulled various weapons from the chest.
"Yeah. Hey, always knew I'd go down fightin'." Spike acknowledged.
"I'm counting on you... to protect her." Buffy informed him.
A resolute look crossed his face, "'Till the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight."
"I'll be a minute," Buffy said, turning to proceed up the stairs to retrieve more weapons and change into more suitable, end-of-the-world-battle clothes. She was halted in her progression up the stairs by Spike's quite but firm words.
"I know you'll never love me." Spike paused as Buffy turned around on the stairs. "I know that I'm a monster, but you treat me like a man. And that's..." Spike's words halted and he couldn't seem to finish his thanks. "Get your stuff, I'll be here."
Seeing that nothing further would be forthcoming, Buffy turned to resume her task.
The battle was vicious and Glory's minions had been fervent in their duty to prevent them from stopping the ritual to bleed Dawn. The gang had watched as the upper hand seemed to alternate between Buffy and Glory. Each one fighting fiercely to get to Dawn, who stood tied at the top of the tower awaiting her fate. Whatever that may be.
As Buffy continued to battle with Glory, the scoobies had regrouped, with the exception of Willow and Tara, who were stranded on the other side of the workyard. The group had tried charging the minions to get to Dawn on the tower, but had been beaten back and they were now trying to formulate another plan when Spike noticed that someone was up on the tower with Dawn.
Suddenly Spike heard Willow's voice as clear as day telling him to "get up there." He'd given slight resistance, wondering just how he was supposed to get through the throng of minions, when Willow told him to "go... now!" So, he took off and charged at them, and the minions parted like the red sea. As he rounded the top, it became clear who was there with Dawn.
"Doesn't a fellow stay dead when you kill him? Spike asked, cautiously approaching the two figures in front of him.
Doc smiled, "Look who's talking."
"Come on, Doc. Let's you and me have a go." Spike said, drawing the attention away from Dawn.
"I... do have a prior appointment," the elderly looking man responded, bouncing the knife off his index finger.
"This won't take long," Spike offered, still inching forward.
"No, I, I don't imagine it will," the little man stated.
As Spike charged forward, the strange man was suddenly no longer in front of him but behind him, and Spike was being held by throat and the butcher knife was stuck in his right kidney. A shocked cry of pain erupted from him, before he freed himself from Doc's grip. The knife clacked noisily to the platform as Spike spun around and put himself between Dawn and the deceptively fast creature. He would apparently keep his promise or die trying.
"You don't come anywhere near the girl, Doc," Spike snarled the order.
The little man looked bemused. "I don't smell a soul anywhere on you. Why do you even care?"
"Made a promise to a lady," Spike informed him.
"Oh?" Doc replied, sending his tongue shooting out towards Spike's head. As Spike leaned sharply to the side to dodge it, Doc dropped down and swept Spike's feet out from under him and sending him crashing to the grate. Spike quickly recovered and jumped to his feet. He wasn't quick enough however, as Doc again grabbed him from behind, pinning Spike's arms behind him in a firm grip.
"Then I'll send the lady your regrets," Doc offered.
A moment of pure clarity shone on Spike's face as he realized he'd failed. He saw the moment it also occurred to Dawn, as her eyes widened in fear and she shook her head. This couldn't be it. He'd made a promise...
"No..." he whispered, and shifted to break away again. With nothing further, Doc threw him off the tower. He tumbled through the air for what seemed like an eternity, watching the ground rising up to meet him. He crashed down with a heavy thud and bounced slightly. Several bones must have shattered at the impact, and his head had surely exploded. Despite the darkness that threatened to overtake him, he tried to push up but instead found himself nearly unable to move. He could only listen as everything around him continued.
Buffy obviously got the better of Glory, and abandoned her to make another break for the tower and Dawn and Giles approached the fallen god, now in its human form.
"She could've killed me," Ben told Giles.
"No, she couldn't. Never. And sooner or later, Glory will re-emerge and... make Buffy pay for that mercy, and the world with her," Giles informed the young man, who was shallowly gasping now. "Buffy even knows that, and still, she couldn't take a human life. She's a hero you see. She's not like us."
The sounds of struggle could be heard, followed finally by silence for a few moments. The battle seemed to be over. Then suddenly Dawn's cries of pain sounded, followed shortly by Doc screaming as he took the same way down that Spike had. And then all hell broke loose. Literally.
Spike felt the ground opening up beneath him and rolled free of the fissure just in time. Seconds later, the chaos stopped and all was deathly quiet. Minions lay scattered, some alive, others not. The scooby gang all made their way toward their fallen hero.
Despite his shattered leg that refused to respond, and his countless other broken bones, Spike managed to pick himself up and drag himself toward Buffy. As her lifeless body came clearly into view, he stumbled and found he couldn't get his body to go any further. He looked upon the woman who held his heart. He had failed to save Dawn, and now Buffy was lost to him forever.
Spike unconsciously tried to cover his face...and he wept.
**********
Spike awoke with a start. His hands covered his face as the unbidden tears flowing freely. Oh God, what had he done?
**********
Buffy awoke with a start as a thought crossed her mind. She was no longer the one chosen one. No longer would she have to be the one to sacrifice. Her calling was over. She was finally... truly... free...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
a/n-mwa, ha, ha. What an evil place to leave it, no? Was that a nice little twist? Whose dream was it? Are you certain?
For my wonderful Spuffy devotees, take heart. We are almost there. I promise.
Oh yeah, dream sequence courtesy of "The Gift", written by Joss Whedon. (as if you didn't know!)
Ten - She Cut Your Hair by Irishrose
Chapter 10
When the shaking and tears eased up, Spike tried to figure out just what exactly had occurred. This wasn’t his dream was it? Had it been a previous dream Buffy had told him? She’d certainly told him several of her “slayer” dreams before, but this one didn’t seem familiar at all. But why would he have one of those dreams? Wasn’t that Buffy’s way of coping? This wasn’t feeling good at all. It was horrifying. Completely nightmare. The creepy bad guys, the watching others battle for their lives, the falling... He could almost still feel the impact from when he’d hit the ground.
No! What he was feeling was a bad hangover, nothing more. He forced himself from his makeshift bed and began rapidly pacing back and forth as he considered it further.
Then why had he been featured in the dream? Buffy had never mentioned him before in talking about her dreams. Angel certainly, but not him.
The implications of the dream hit him full force in the chest and he felt the air being sucked from his lungs. He’d been...soulless. A monster who killed, not a man at all. He’d made the same promise to Buffy and he failed them. Buffy had, Buffy had, she’d...died, because of him. Was that the message?
His mind still turning at a rapid rate, he went to the kitchen and forced himself to drink some water. The alcohol. He was just hung over and dehydrated. Water made everything better as it filled the voids and washed everything away. It didn’t’ work. Why? Why had he dreamed that? He considered the question earnestly as he made his way back to the couch.
Jenny certainly believed dreams could tell you things if you’d listen. He always thought Buffy’s were telling her how strong she really was and that she would always win the wars she fought. But now he wasn’t sure. Was this dream telling him that she would die, that Dawn would be hurt, and all because of his failure? The thought sickened him and he lurched for the nearby trash can as his stomach rejected its contents.
No, no, no. Can’t think like that. Thinking too much in fact. This wasn’t some prophetic dream. It was nothing more than a combination of cheap whiskey and his own conscience. His mind had just seized on it’s memories of Buffy’s dreams and built on them. Nothing more.
But what if he was wrong?
Well then, he’d gotten the message loud and clear. He’d failed once. They had paid the price for it. He would never let it happen again. He’d made a promise and he was going to keep it.
**********
“So anyway, then Jessica told Sherry that she heard Greg say that he wanted to go out with Julie,” Dawn told the group of friends walking with her, who promptly burst into fits of giggles and proclamations of “No way!” and “ewww!” A familiar shadow caught her attention and a flash of black coat reflected for a moment in the store window next to her. Dawn came to a sudden stop, causing her friends to narrowly miss running into her.
“Spike! I *so* totally know you’re there. You have got to quit following me. Someone is going to like, report you or something.” Dawn insisted as she spun around and stood with one hand on her hip, the other busy holding countless bags containing her recent mall purchases. On cue, a sheepish looking Spike stepped out of the shadows several feet away. “God Spike, you’re like my shadow only worse! What does it take to get rid of you? I mean, nobody’s even heard from dad in four months!" She held up four fingers in emphasis. "Four months, Spike!”
Spike closed the distance between himself and the group of teens, not even noticing the fluttering eyelashes, grinning, and continued giggles from the girls now huddled up behind and around Dawn. “Doesn’t mean he won’t show up, and this time I’ll be ready when he does,” Spike insisted.
“Ugh! You are so thick headed! What, you think he’s working undercover at Hot Topic so he can snatch me out of the blue?” Dawn gave him her best ‘do you even *have* any brain cells?!’ look.. When he didn’t look to be swayed, she rolled her eyes and tried yet again. “Go away! Shoo! I give you leave! Be gone!” Dawn ordered, her hands waving emphatically around to communicate her exasperation.
Spike took hold of her by one arm and pulled her away a few steps from the group as he dropped his voice to little more than a whisper. “Look, whine and pout all you want, I’m not leaving you to get hurt. Never again.” Spike finished adamantly.
“Spike, I understand what you’re doing. Probably even better than you do, I’ve read your journal.” This earned her an incredulous glare. “Spike, no one is going to die, and you aren’t some soulless creature. I forgave you a *long* time ago, and Buffy’s just being totally stupid about the whole thing,” Dawn said. Seeing that maybe Spike might be hearing the tiniest bit of what she was saying, she continued on. “Look, things happen the way they do for a reason. If you had been the knight in shining armor that day, then dad would still be hounding us, Warren and Andrew would be walking around free, and both you and Angel would be the ones locked up. Buffy and I would both be living with dad again, and I don’t even *want* to think about what dad would have forced Buffy to do about the babies. Is *that* what you wanted to happen?”
Spike looked at Dawn with indignant horror, which Dawn took to mean that he somewhat understood what she was saying. “See, you’re not a monster at all, Spike. Everyone but you can see that. Even Buffy admits that things turned out better this way. She just doesn’t think she can forgive you because then she’ll have no reason not to be completely happy. You *know* Buffy has to be all sad and tragic. She thinks if she ever gets the smallest bit happy, then something bad will happen.”
Spike acknowledged her point with a silent nod.
“She’ll come around Spike. It just takes time,” Dawn said. She gave him a little pat on the shoulder for good measure, then with a very practiced flip of her hair she rejoined her group. As Spike started to follow her, she turned back to him, “Oh hey, if you’re still feeling guilty, I need another twenty dollars to buy this sweater I saw in the window at The Gap.”
Spike raised an eyebrow and gave Dawn one of his patent smirks.
Dawn’s friends, who were still watching and listening with fascination, all looked at each other and exclaimed together “Number 19!” before breaking down into shrieks of laughter. Dawn rolled her eyes as Spike sent her a look, his silent question clearly asking what the heck that was all about. Dawn sighed dramatically.
“They’ve given numbers to your trademark expressions. The whole eyebrow combined with a look that says, ‘I don’t think so,’” Dawn demonstrated the look rather competently, “is number 19. Honestly, you really need to get some new expressions.”
Interlude - First Christmas by Irishrose
First Christmas
The scream abruptly shook Buffy from her deep slumber, and brought her to an upright position as fast as any woman six months pregnant with twins could really move. As she thrashed around, trying to disengage the covers that refused to release their captive, Angel stilled her movements with a gentle hand. Buffy’s head whipped around in shock, just as another of Dawn’s screams filled the house.
At seeing the amused twinkle in Angel’s eyes, it slowly dawned on her that the scream was not one of terror or pain, but one born of delight. Even now she could make out the bubbly laughter of her younger sister drifting to the bedroom like a spring flower caught in the insistent, careless breeze.
“I guess Santa figured out where to leave the presents after all,” Angel smiled.
“Santa?” Buffy echoed in a tiny voice. “You didn’t, did you?”
“Who me? Nah. Think I’d give up holding onto you, just to sneak downstairs and leave a bunch of presents for some kid who’s too old to believe in Santa?” Angel asked. “I am kind of surprised he managed to get past Spike though,” Angel answered with an ever widening grin.
Before Buffy could reply, there was a firm knock at the door. “I take it you are both awake, now? Unless you plan on letting Dawn open your gifts, I suggest you make your way downstairs.” Giles amusement could also be heard through the door. “I do believe she’s in a bit of a frenzy, and libel to open anything not already claimed.”
Buffy and Angel quickly made themselves presentable, and then joined the rest of the family downstairs, just as Jenny carried in a tray filled with steaming hot mugs of cocoa. Everyone took a mug and found some place to seat themselves as Dawn’s delight spread to them all like a contagion.
Dawn had situated herself directly in front of the tree, several packages already strewn about her. Bright Christmas wrap lay in piles all around the room, a testament to Dawn’s frenzy. When Dawn noticed that Buffy had joined the rest of them, she quickly set aside the gift she was unwrapping and climbed over boxes and wrap to throw her arms around Buffy.
“Oh my god, oh my god, did you see, did you see? Look, Buffy, look!” Dawn hurdled back to her spot in front of the tree, and began handing out gifts with the joyful enthusiasm usually displayed by children half her age.
“To Buffy, from Santa. To Spike, from Santa,” she called as she generally lobbed gifts to their intended recipients. “Buffy, me, me, Angel, Jenny, Spike, me, Buffy, Giles, Giles,” and so the list went on until all the presents had been allocated appropriately and everyone began to unwrap their gifts.
Buffy could only watch is stunned silence, as the sparkle of ribbons, the smell of the tree and the cocoa, the delighted squeals, and the calls of “cool!” and “how delightful” and “oh honey, you shouldn’t have” enveloped her. Not since she’d been a very small girl had she had a Christmas like this.
Her lap was filled with presents from Giles and Jenny, from Santa, Angel, and Spike, and Dawn. There were even gifts addressed to the twins, waiting for her and Angel to unwrap, and two resting against the wall that she imagined contained bassinets, judging from the size. Everyone was smiling and laughing. The delightful scents of the day’s coming dinner were already beginning to fill the air, and it all overwhelmed her, and she began to cry.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried such happy tears. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so showered with displays of love and for the first time in over a decade, she truly felt like she had a family.
As she pondered all her feelings, she felt the twins jostling around in their comfortable cocoon. Even the little one’s seemed to be bounding with excitement. The next thing she knew, Spike was standing in front of her with handkerchief in his extended hand. As she nervously glanced around, it appeared that no one else had noticed her tears, or were making a good show of not noticing anyway. As she looked back up at Spike, she was certain she saw understanding in their depths for just a moment, before a small smile took over as she took the cloth and Spike stepped back to his own spot by the new coffee table.
Buffy accepted the temporary peace offering. Today was special. Today was her first real Christmas as an entire family. The day passed as expanded time, with more happiness, food, laughter, and everyone, even Spike enjoying the newly rambunctious displays the twins made of Buffy’s abdomen. A lifetime of love and care filled every waking moment of this day, and Buffy knew that this memory would certainly stay with her for the rest of her new life.
Eleven - And From Your Lips... by Irishrose
Chapter 11
“Buffy, might I have a moment? I have something I need to discuss with you.” Giles asked tentatively, interrupting a discussion between Buffy and Jenny.
“I’d be happy to go with you guys for the ultrasound, Buffy. Can’t pass up a chance to see those babies again, now can I? But we’ll take my car. You can’t tell me Angel’s car isn’t getting uncomfortable for you,” Jenny finished, starting to back out of the room. Giles caught the look his wife sent him during her retreat. It was a combination of “it’s about time,” and “be gentle.”
He had spoken with Jenny several times about addressing the Spike issue with Buffy. Even Angel had mentioned the problem, but didn’t feel he was in a position to convince Buffy to forgive Spike. They had all hoped that with time, Buffy’s wrath would soften and she would come around.
However, Buffy seemed no more forthcoming in forgiveness, than Spike was in forgiving himself. Truthfully, they were more worried about Spike’s growing obsession to watch over Buffy and Dawn. It started innocent enough with Spike checking the doors each night. Soon however, he’d added the windows to the checklist. They started getting worried when he was running phone lines to each room and when he began insisting that Buffy and Dawn needed to be driven to school and back. It was common knowledge that Spike attempted to follow them where ever they went unless accompanied by another family member. When Buffy and Angel acted a bit too cutesy for Spike’s taste, he left the house. But he usually only ventured as far as one of the more sheltering trees around the house, his cigarette butts testifying to his whereabouts. Spike had even taken lately to staying awake at night so that someone was on guard while the others slept.
“So, what’s up?” Buffy asked cheerfully. She looked happy, but her voice still held that quality that told him she was still putting up a little bit of a show. If one wanted a true picture of perfect happiness, Angel was the one to look to. The young man was sporting perpetual goofy grins and had a constant bounce in his step. Giles smiled to himself as he imagined just how quickly that smile would disappear when Angel was being wakened by screaming infants at three in the morning. It wasn’t a task he envied Angel, and certainly not one he desired to repeat again in this lifetime.
“Hello? Giles, you in there?” Buffy said, waving a hand in front of him and snapping him back to his present task.
“Oh, sorry. My mind wandered for a second,” he excused. “Why don’t you have a seat, I think it best if we had this discussion sitting down.”
The expression on Buffy’s face suddenly turned fearful, and Giles rushed to assuage her fears before continuing. “Relax, everything is fine. Still no word from your father. Dawn is passing all her classes. Warren and Tucker are still incarcerated, and Principle Snyder has yet to make any credible threats.” He watched as Buffy visibly relaxed, a sigh of relief escaping her. “However, I am very concerned about Spike.”
A brief look of guilt flashed across Buffy’s face before it hardened to resolved anger. “Spike’s not my problem,” she asserted.
“No, he’s not. But he is your closest friend. Or at least he was before the incident with your father.” Giles gently reminded her.
“Spike made his choice, and it wasn’t us!” Buffy supplied somewhat defensively.
“I agree that he’s made some very bad decisions. But we all do, Buffy. You’ve even admitted yourself that the long term results were possibly better because of what happened. I’m not saying you have to go back to the way things were before,” Giles continued.
“Why should I?” Buffy interrupted. “He had no reason for what he did. It was just a stupid thing that he has no excuse for doing!”
Giles studied Buffy for a moment. She was angry, certainly. But there was also confusion mixed in with it. The child really had no idea. He had convinced himself that she did know of the feeling both his sons harbored for her, and that she had simply followed her heart’s path to Angel.
“You honestly didn’t know,” he whispered out before realizing he’d spoken the thought aloud.
“Didn’t know what?” Buffy inquired. “That Spike's an idiot? He was banging Harmony. I think it’s safe to say that says a lot about his decision making skills, right there. And I don’t think it was Harmony pouring whiskey down his throat.”
Giles winced at the term she had used. He may have known of his sons’ activities, but that didn’t mean he had to truly acknowledge them. “Yes, well, I’ll choose to ignore the horrifying visual that just gave me, thank you.” This drew a knowing grin from Buffy. He swore that sometimes they said the things they did just to see his reaction. Having once again needlessly cleaned his glasses, Giles replaced them on his head before proceeding. “Buffy, have you ever considered why Spike was with Harmony despite his distaste for her?”
“Because she’s a skanky, vapid...”
Giles held up one hand to interrupt her, “Be that as it may...It never occurred to you that there was something familiar about the girl?” he asked. One thing he had learned over the years was that if Buffy came to a realization on her own, she would be much more receptive than if he simply told her.
“Familiar?” Buffy repeated. Her look clearly told him she was not getting the idea he was trying to convey.
“The hard way it is then,” Giles sighed out softly. “Harmony is blond. She is petite, and of a similar build as you, Buffy.”
“So, what? You’re saying Spike was with Harmony because she looks like me? Which she doesn’t, by the way.”
“Buffy, I may be old, but I certainly know what a young man in love looks like and Spike has been in love with you for quite some time. In fact, Jenny tells me it’s the reason Drusilla finally broke off seeing him. Not that I minded her doing so. It certainly wasn’t coincidental that Spike only turned to Harmony after he discovered your pregnancy. You have to remember that despite his facade, Spike is still William at heart. And William had just been confronted with the fact that your heart belonged unequivocally to Angel.”
Buffy sat stunned. Giles could almost read the million thoughts running through her mind.
“Buffy, you can’t ever punish Spike as much as he is punishing himself. But he does need your forgiveness. Neither of you can truly heal and move on without it,” Giles finished as he stood. Matters were now in Buffy’s hands. Only she could decide to offer or withhold her forgiveness. He just hoped that for everyone’s sanity she decided soon.
**********
“Did you know?” Buffy demanded as she stormed into the bedroom. Angel stopped his reading and looked up from the desk to see Buffy glowering at him. He could have feigned innocence. He could have danced around the issue and asked what she was referring to. But in the end, he decided that honesty would be best.
“Yes,” he responded, and watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. “I think I’ve known for a while. I just didn’t really give it any credence until he told me himself when he tried to beat the crap out of me in the basement.”
“He never told me,” Buffy said, sounding very much like a small, hurt, child.
“Does it make a difference?” Angel asked, still unsure of her reaction to the revelations of the day.
Buffy looked into Angel’s eyes, “About us? No. But at least now I think I understand a little... maybe.”
Angel decided to go for broke and throw in his two cents. “Spike’s human Buffy. He made some of the worst decisions he’ll probably ever make. But he’s just a man, in love with the most beautiful and amazing woman in the world. I probably would have done something equally dumb if I were in his place. In fact, I was pretty bone headed myself for a while, but you forgave me. Just something to think about.”
Buffy nodded her understanding. It did bear consideration, but she needed to think a little more before deciding what to do. Something else Angel said was niggling at her mind just then.
“In the basement, did you come back to me because of what Spike said?” Buffy asked tentatively. Her eyes were downcast, but she was watching him through her eye lashes.
Angel took a moment to think over his answer, “I never left you, Buffy. I just, I saw the destruction that the attack brought, and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“So you still loved me?”
Angel got up and moved to stand before Buffy, who had taken a seat on the edge of the bed. He squatted down so he was eye level with her and made sure she was looking at him before telling her, “I will always love you, no matter what. I never stopped, and I never will.”
“Do you still...want me?” Buffy stuttered hesitantly, eyes again turning downward as she started twisting the hem of her shirt with one hand.
“Every second of every day,” he told her, his voice full of complete conviction.
“Show me?” Buffy nervously requested, her hands wringing together. Her eyes kept peeking up at him and then back down.
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Angel asked, as one hand raked through his hair in his usual nervous gesture.
The hurt look she flashed him, told him that his response wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. She was about to shut down and had already taken on the demure persona that was her usual method of coping until the moment would pass. Spike’s words in the basement about Angel’s fears making Buffy’s own fears worse rang loudly in his head. Angel decided that in this case, he needed to think more with his heart than his head and he leaned in and placed a tender kiss to Buffy’s lips. After a few seconds passed, it became much more passionate. Buffy’s own lips started to convey the urgency of her need, and her sheer hunger overwhelmed Angel. As the kisses heated, hands became insistent in their tasks of undressing the couple. Before either one could complete a coherent thought, the couple found themselves completely lost in re-exploring the other’s body. Angel’s mind finally pushed to the front when he found himself totally encased in Buffy. He froze and pulled back a little to study her, a look of panic creeping up his face. She gave him a brave smile, but all he could see were the tears escaping the corners of her eyes. Panic took over, and all he could think was that he had hurt her.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry, Buffy. I brought it all back. I’m sorry, baby.” Angel rambled and tried to withdraw, but Buffy held him firm in her grip with her arms and legs, then brought one hand to cover Angel’s mouth and silence him.
“Shhhh,” she smiled. “Angel, you didn’t do anything wrong. I needed this. I needed you, all of you. These aren’t sad tears. I can’t forget the bad part, but I finally remembered how good this could be,” Buffy finished.
At hearing her words, Angel felt even more guilt over his actions the last several months. Spike had been right. “I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner,” Angel said, one hand caressing Buffy’s cheek. “Spike tried to tell me, but I’m not too good at listening to him. I can only promise to do my best to make up for the time I’ve lost with you.”
Buffy smiled even more, as a fresh batch of tears spilled down her cheeks. Angel leaned down and kissed away each one, as he once more tried to show Buffy just how much he wanted and needed her. As she later drifted off to sleep, Angel’s arms encircling her as she snuggled up to his chest, Angel considered that in the morning he really needed to find Spike and thank him for keeping him from losing Buffy.
**********
They left the house in plenty of time to get to the doctor’s office for her sonogram. Unfortunately, about half way there they got stuck behind a semi on the interstate as a thick blanket of morning fog rolled in. Traffic had slowed to an almost painful crawl when no one could see to move. Jenny had called the doctor's office, who assured them they would work Buffy in when they got there.
Time seemed to expand as the car’s occupants found themselves making little progress, and unable to see anything beyond a few feet outside the car. Angel smiled as Buffy tried to stifle a giant yawn. The dreary fog was making her very sleepy, something she always seemed to be anyway. “Why don’t you lay down? I’ll wake you up if we start to move. Doesn’t look like this fog is lifting any time soon.”
Buffy smiled gratefully. “Twist my arm a little more, why don’t you,” she replied, squirming around in the back seat. She finally managed to get into a comfortable position with her head resting on Angel’s thigh. She saw Jenny look back and smile sweetly at them, telling them what a nice picture they made before turning her attention back to the highway and mumbling something about mutant fog and air pollution.
As Buffy started to drift off to sleep, she focused on the warm feeling of one of Angel’s hands on her swollen abdomen, and the other stroking her hair away from her face.
“Angel?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m going to forgive him.”
“Good, maybe now he’ll quit stalking you and Dawn,” Angel said, amusement clear in his voice.
“I’m serious,” she pouted.
“I know. It’ll make you feel better and that makes me happy.”
“mmm...me too,” she mumbled out in sleepy response. The rich timbre of Angel’s laugh filled the car. The last thing she felt was a gentle kiss placed on her temple as she surrendered to sleep.
Twelve - She Drew The Hallelujah by Irishrose
Chapter 12
-Warning Character Death-
Four days later...
When had her bed become so uncomfortable? It was all lumpy and there was something holding her arm down, and her leg felt like something was sitting on it. And it was entirely too bright. She didn’t remember her room ever getting this sunny. It hurt her eyes a little and she hadn’t even opened them. Man, she was tired. She wasn’t *really* awake yet, so she might as well turn over and go back to sleep. After a few tentative tugs, she managed to tug her arm over as she shifted in the bed. This elicited a dull thud and a very loud yelp, which only served to confuse Buffy.
She slowly opened her eyes, blinking rapidly against the still too bright light in the room and became even more confused. This was not her room. She was not in her bed at all. And why the heck was Spike staring at her like that and holding one hand to the side of his head?
“Buffy?” Spike hesitantly spoke. He sounded almost like he wasn’t sure it was her. “God, Buffy, you’re awake!” Spike blurted out as he practically jumped out of his chair and enveloped her in a giant hug. Buffy could only lay there, stunned and trying to figure out what the hell was going on. After a few seconds, Spike released her and stood back up.
“Oh, hell, sorry! Did I hurt you? Stupid question, of course I did.”
Buffy stared at Spike and tried to ask what was going on, but found her throat very dry and sore. Strange, jumpy, rambling Spike immediately got her a cup of water. After a few sips, she found her voice again and scratched out, “Why are we in the hospital?”
Spike froze and Buffy saw confusion mar his brow before it succumbed to a very pained look. His eyes became evasive and his demeanor closed off.
“Spike?” Buffy poured resolve into the way she spoke his name, forcing his eyes back up to her own. He held a questioning look for a moment before he finally responded.
“What’s the last thing you remember, Buffy?”
She thought for a second. “Um, we were stuck on the highway in the fog. I fell asleep on Angel’s lap.”
Spike slowly sank back down into the chair next to the bed, and didn’t look to be forthcoming with any information at the moment. Buffy looked around the small hospital room. There were several plants and flower arrangements on the counter. There was a cot in the corner that looked to be mostly unused. Spike’s duffel bag was sitting on it, with clothes trailing out of the top.
She shifted to get comfortable again, and took note that the thing holding her arm down was actually a cast, and the arm was completely bruised, all purple and yellow. Her other arm housed an IV and sported the familiar bruises telling of blood draws. A little wiggling revealed that her "heavy" leg was also in a cast. Ugh! There was a catheter!
That was when she noticed something was missing.
Her good hand quickly lifted the covers so she could double check. She pushed and felt her abdomen. But rather than the comfortable roundness, it was all mushy and... “Ow!” That hurt like hell!
Spike jumped up yet again and after seeing where her inquiry had taken her, he reached out and gently pulled her hand away, tucking the cover back around her. She could only manage to stare at him in confused horror.
“Now, Pet, no messin’ with the incision. That nurse’ll have my hide if I let you pull that open.”
“Why...how...why?” Buffy’s words became more and more panicked with each one she spoke. As her disjointed questions continued, she tried to shift out of bed. She had to find them. She had to find Angel. Had to...“find them!”
“I brought you some coffee. It’s dreadful as usual, but... Buffy!”
She suddenly found herself enveloped in another giant hug. This time it was Giles. Where had he come from?
“Buffy, oh thank heavens, I was afraid we were going to lose you as well.” Giles pulled back some, though his enthusiasm didn’t fade any. She began struggling anew, not really processing his words. “Buffy...Buffy, calm down. You can see him as soon as you’re cleared to be moved,” he said as he tried gently to restrain her without hurting her. As the words registered, she paused her movements.
Him? Angel? She had to be moved to see Angel?
“Where’s Angel? Where are my babies? Why the Hell won’t anyone tell me what’s going on?!” she bit out forcefully.
“Oh dear lord,” Giles mumbled. “We assumed you knew...”
“She doesn’t remember anything,” Spike softly informed him. He had taken up a position standing at the window and he was staring through the blinds, his hands in his jeans pockets. “She fell asleep in the car.”
“Knew what??? If I don’t get some answers in the next three seconds I swear...”
“Buffy, please, calm down. Everything will be explained, but if you don’t calm down I fear the staff will sedate you,” Giles pleaded. Buffy sent him her best defiant look, before easing back into the pillow some. Her eyes continued shooting icy daggers.
“Perhaps we should let the doctor see to you first?” Giles offered. Buffy started to try again to rise, but his hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Very well,” he sighed. “What is the last thing you remember?”
“Highway. Fog. Sleep.” Buffy replied through clenched teeth.
“Nothing more at all?”
Buffy gave him another warning glare.
“There was an accident, Buffy. The fog...the driver didn’t see that traffic had stopped. The car was struck with quite a bit of force and it...it ended up under the truck in front of you. Jenny died instant...” Giles stopped as his voice broke off. He took several seconds to recompose himself, then seemed to search her face for some sign of something. A moment later he gave a small nod, as if affirming something to himself, and continued hesitantly, “As did...as did Angel.”
Buffy stared mutely at her surrogate father and tried to push the words he was saying through her brain. Her heart seemed to be fluttering at a stuttered pace and is was becoming hard to breath.
Not really registering what she was hearing, she looked to Spike to make things clear, but he was looking at Giles with as much confusion and anger as she felt herself . Maybe it was grief. Why was it so hard to tell?
Why couldn't she remember anything? She registered that she was probably in shock, but she had to know the rest. So she tried to take several breathes and will herself to focus.
“Tell me.”
“Though you couldn’t see it, nearly eighty vehicles were involved and three other people were killed that morning. The emergency personnel were already near you; however, with the position of the car, they had some difficulty extricating you. They could barely see more than your head for quite some time. By the time they managed to get you free, you were barely alive. You had lost a considerable amount of blood, had been in labor, unbeknownst to the emergency personel, and were dangerously close to delivering before they arrived here at the hospital, in which case they said you would have bled to death.”
“Are my babies ok?” Buffy asked in a very small voice.
“Buffy, you were badly injured. You suffered severe trauma to your entire body, and you were bleeding inside. Gabriel seemed to have been the most affected by the trauma," Giles paused and seemed to have difficult going on for a moment. But then he visibly recovered. "They were born very early, Buffy, and weakened by the entire ordeal." Giles signed deeply, and quaking emotional sigh. "Gabriel only survived a little over 24 hours. However, Michael is doing exceptionally well and the doctor has said that he is very optimistic.”
“You should see him!” Spike added, walking back toward the bed. His whole being seemed to brighten, he almost looked excited. ‘He’s itty bitty, but he’s strong as an ox, now! Looks a lot like Dawn, but in a handsome way,” he smiled.
Buffy glanced between the two men. She was at a loss for words and thought she was going to vomit. A small thought stopped her. “You named them?” she asked, sounding very hurt. Spike shrank back again and she looked to Giles for her answer.
“It was Spike’s suggestion, actually. He thought the best tribute to Angel would be to name them after, well, angels.”
“I’m sure you can change ‘em to whatever you like,” Spike hesitantly offered.
Buffy nodded mutely. After staring at her covers a while, she finally announced that she needed to be alone. Giles quickly excused himself to find a nurse now that she was awake. She waited for Spike to leave as well, but it soon became apparent that he wasn’t leaving.
“Please leave,” she whispered.
“No,” Spike responded resolutely.
Her head snapped up and she stared at him. “What?”
“You heard me. I’m not leavin’. You need a friend. You can cry and scream and even throw things at me if you can reach them, but I’m not leavin’ you,” he explained.
“Why? Why won’t you go?” Buffy begged, as tears began erupting.
Spike simply smiled at her. “Made a promise,‘til the end of the world’.”
Buffy’s emotional dam burst. It was the end of the world as she knew it. Her body started shaking as wild sobs tore through her. Suddenly Spike was there, gently holding her and encouraging her to cry all she wanted. She wept for everything, and everyone, and for what seemed like hours, until exhaustion overtook her and she drifted to sleep.
________________________________________
a/n- the story certainly isn’t over, but I promise this is the last trauma to Buffy. *big sigh of relief*
________________________________________
Thirteen -Maybe I've Been Here Before by Irishrose
Chapter 13
Numb. That was the most suitable word Spike could think of to describe Buffy's behavior for the last few weeks. She just seemed to drift around in a fog. At first he'd expected it, how could she have *not* been in shock. She had finally found some measure of perfect happiness and it all got torn away from her. She had totally withdrawn from everyone and everything. Even during the funerals she'd been distant. Never looking at anyone, her expression frozen, her eyes unseeing.
The first few weeks she spent mostly in her refuge from the horrors of the world, her room. Each day either Spike or his father would assist her to the hospital to visit Michael, who had grown stronger and healthier with each passing day. After four weeks, the doctor had declared that Michael would soon be able to go home. He was not expected to have any lingering effects from his early delivery, aside from usual premature issues which would likely resolve with time. And yet Buffy remained detached from even Michael. She would stare into the bassinet endlessly, as if the answers to the larger questions of the universe were held within. But she never touched, never held, never rocked nor fed him.
But that didn't stop everyone else from seizing the opportunity to hold on to the legacy left by Jenny and Angel. For each chance to feed or hold Michael that Buffy passed up, Spike, Giles, or Dawn would gladly step in and help care for the baby. The professional staff assured the small family that time would bring healing for Buffy; and counseling for everyone involved would help even more.
When Michael was finally declared ready to go home, everyone was at a loss as to where exactly to put him. Giles had insisted that Michael be placed in Buffy's room, despite protests from both Spike and Dawn. Dawn felt it was obvious that Buffy didn't care and didn't want to. Spike insisted that Buffy was still too weak from her injuries and subsequent surgery, and too traumatized by the losses. But Giles insisted those were exactly the reasons why she needed Michael with her. It would help her to begin the long process of moving forward. A process that all of them needed to begin.
It worked to a degree. Buffy did finally start caring for her son, but it still didn't seem to make much of a dent in her detached demeanor. Spike was beyond worried. He feared that the loss of Jenny, Angel, and Gabriel had been too much. A human can only endure so much tragedy and Buffy had certainly had more than her fair share. But he found hope when one night he awoke to the sound of crying on the baby monitor he kept near him at all times. But the crying wasn't from the baby, it was from Buffy. The sound of her quiet sobs pulled at everything inside him, but it meant she was feeling something.
Soon after, the dreams started. The first one nearly scared Spike to death. When her scream tore through the house, Spike jumped to action and nearly bowled over both Dawn and Giles in his rush to Buffy's room. He found Buffy sitting up in her bed, a look of horror and confusion on her face. Michael was wailing fiercely in his cradle. Dawn edged around him to see to Michael, prompting him to take care of Buffy. Carefully, so as not to startle her, he settled next to Buffy on the bed and pulled her to him, enclosing her in his warm protective arms as her sobs shook her. He wasn't sure when Giles and Dawn left the room, taking Michael with them, he only knew that Buffy needed someone and he seemed to fit the bill at that moment.
So a routine was set. Each night the family settled in. Each night Buffy would wake them. Each night Dawn or Giles would take Michael, and each night Spike would stay with Buffy, comforting her and coercing her back to slumber. He couldn't ever elicit from her what her dreams entailed. She wouldn't trust him with that information anymore for some reason. But she was feeling. She was hurting and crying, but at least she wasn't numb. That meant she would be alright eventually. He hoped.
**********
The dreams. They came every night now. She was almost afraid to fall asleep because she knew they would come. He would come. It started so sweetly. Just her and Angel. Him saying she needed a friend. Helping her when the demons came. She had even patched him up one night when he'd been injured helping her to fight a group of them called "The Three". Then it happened. He became one of the monsters. He became a demon, a vampire. That was the first night she'd woken the house with her scream. That night she fell asleep enfolded in Spikes arms, and for a while the nightmares were kept at bay. Each night she dreamt, and each night he came to her, wiping away the tears and staying with her until the sun signaled the beginning of a new day.
As the weeks progressed, she found herself caring more and more for Michael. She could see little hints of Angel here and there. Spike was right, he did look a little like Dawn when she was a baby. But his features were handsome and sweet. His eyes were her undoing They were so sweet and soulful, they were the ultimate reminder she had of Angel. Despite her days of healing by tiny degrees, each night brought a new dream involving Angel. New slayer dreams that she had thought she would never have again.
For some reason, despite his vampire status, the slayer dreams had given Angel a soul. Then, a few nights ago, the dreams had brought a sequence that left her breathless. They had made love. He had been slow and gentle. Showing her the depth of his love, and she could have sworn that it had been real, that he was really there. But when she woke, he was gone. Nothing was beside her except the spot left vacant by his absence. That had hurt her even more, ripping her very soul from her.
The nights since had brought dreams of a soulless Angel rampaging through the town, cutting down everyone in his path. She watched in horror as Jenny died. She watched as her friends died. She watched as the dreams told her that it was her fault. It was because of her that Jenny was gone. It was because of her that Angel was gone, replaced by a soulless Angelus.
It was no different in the day. She knew that it was because of her that they had died. They had all risked their lives and well-being because of her. Everything she did brought only ill fortune. She carried nothing but death and destruction with her. It was her gift and her calling. It would eventually destroy everyone she cared for.
With that thought, she once more gave in to sleep, knowing the dreams would come.
**********
"Angel's the key," Whistler began. "His blood will open the door to Hell. Acathla opens his big mouth, creates a vortex. Then only Angel's blood will close it. One blow will send 'em both back to Hell. But I strongly suggest that you get there before that happens, 'cause the faster you kill Angel, the easier it's gonna be on you.
"Don't worry about me," Buffy responded, resolute.
"It's all on the line here, kid," The oddly dressed whatever-he-is warned.
Sadly, Buffy considered a bare moment before replying. "I can deal, I got nothing left to lose."
As he watched her leave, he whispered, "Wrong, kid. You got one more thing."
The fight almost seemed to happen in fast forward. So many things happened at once. As she fought the vampires off, she caught sight of Xander helping Giles out of the mansion. In the time she lost fighting for her own life, Angelus managed to complete the ritual awakening Acathla. As the sword pulled free of the stone, Angelus whipped it around to face off with Buffy, who scrambled to find her own sword.
Buffy reached for the blessed sword Kendra's Watcher had provided, and faced Angelus.
"You almost made it, Buff," he taunted her.
"It's not over yet."
Angelus sneered, "My boy Acathla here is about to wake up. You're going to Hell."
"Save me a seat."
The ensuing sword fight carried them throughout the room. The traded thrust and parry. They danced in an endless battle to destroy each other. Neither one seemed to be gaining the advantage as their swordplay took them past Acathla, over and around furniture and destroyed everything around them. They began throwing brutal kicks and punches, each one landing blows to the other, but it was Angelus who eventually caught her with a kick to her sword arm, sending her stumbling back into the atrium.
They began to fight in earnest then, each determined to win. But the next moment belonged to Angelus as Buffy's sword embedded in the ground and Angelus stomped a foot down, sending the blade from her grasp. A sharp elbow sent him flying backwards into a table, and they both collapsed.
Angelus eased forward, blade first, as Buffy backed up against the wall. He had her pinned, and toyingly waved his sword before her face. "Now that's everything, huh? No weapons... No friends... No hope."
Buffy closed her eyes as she straightened up slightly, seemingly ready to face her impending doom.
Angelus taunted her more, "Take all that away... and what's left?" He pulled back slightly before thrusting forward, directly at her face. But before he can complete the mortal blow, Buffy's hand moved in astonishing reflex, capturing the blade between her palms, and her eyes flashed open, a look of determination boldly screaming from them.
"Me."
The battle continued, but Buffy clearly had the advantage now as she forced Angelus back. Finally she beat him to his knees in front of Acathla, ready to deal the final blow to put an end to both Angelus and Acathla. She raises the blade, but at the last moment she stayed her blade as Angelus gasped and his eyes flash with what almost looks like flame. As she watched, he collapsed forward a few seconds, then looks up at her with the eyes of her Angel once more.
"Buffy?... What's going on?"
Buffy looked on him, confused and unsure what has happened. Angel looked around as he stood. "Where are we? I-I don't remember."
"Angel?" She asked hesitantly, lowering her sword finally.
"You're hurt," Angel reached out, gingerly touching the cut on her arm. Buffy unconsciously drew forward to him, until they finally embraced. "Oh, Buffy... God. I... I feel like I haven't seen you in months."
Buffy exhaled in desperate relief at having her Angel back, and fully gives in to the embrace.
"Oh, my God, everything's so muddled. I..." He pulled her in even tighter, placing a kiss to her shoulder. As tears fell from Buffy, her eyes drifted shut.
When Buffy again opened her eyes, she was met with the sight of Acathla and a spinning vortex emerged from the great stone beast. She was too late. Buffy let go of Angel and pulled back slightly, looking up into his eyes.
"What's happening?" Angel asked, unaware of the danger he had unleashed, that was growing steadily just behind him.
"Shh... don't worry about it," Buffy told him, as she brushed her fingers lightly across his lips and over his face. She leaned in and gently kissed him, the kiss turning more passionate and desperate as he returned it. It was a kiss between two lovers who had been separated for far too long. When she pulled back from the kiss she looked at him once more and whispered, "I love you."
"And I love you," Angel responded without hesitation.
"Close your eyes," Buffy instructed him. Tears rolling down her face, she placed one final kiss upon his lips, then she stepped back, drew back her sword and thrust it into his chest. His eyes popped open in surprise, as light shone from the sword. She stepped back. He looked at the sword protruding from his chest, then back at Buffy, clearly hurt and confused. He reached out for her, "Buffy?"
But she could only stare as she continued to move away. The vortex grew until suddenly the sword, and Angel disappear into it and the vortex closed. No traces were left behind of the man she loved, the sword, or the vortex that had threatened to consume them all.
Buffy stared at Acathla for many moments, her face showing the evidence that she was fully aware what she'd done. She began to sob, her heart shattering once more. She had killed the man she loved. A final knowledge sunk in at that moment. She hadn't truly lost everything...until now.
**********
Buffy sat up suddenly in bed, her face covered in tears. Her pillow was soaked with them. Spike came rushing in, and pulled her to him whispering words that told her everything would be alright. It was the same ritual he performed every night now. As he gently rocked her, she pondered the dream. The message was clear. She could only bring death and destruction to those she loved and to those who loved her. She knew what she had to do. She allowed Spike to comfort her, and she eased her breathing back down to normal as she calmed herself. She would have to wait a little while. She couldn't face them when they were awake. It would be better this way.
**********
The sun shone through the window, as the alarm clock screamed out its insistence that it was time for him to wake. He could hear Michael over in his bassinet, contenting himself with cooing at something. Spike reached behind him, extending a hand to wake Buffy. "Come on sleepy head. Some of us have to go to school," Spike mumbled out as he continued to reach for Buffy.
When his hand met nothing but air, he rolled over to look for her. The only sight that greeted him was a piece of paper. It was folded over, and on the outside it was neatly lettered, "Spike". He sat up as he opened the letter, quickly scanning it contents. As he read it a second time, he couldn't help the fear and anger that rolled through him. He read it a third time, somehow hoping that he'd read it wrong.
Dear Spike,
When you read this, I will be gone. Don't worry, I'm not that kind of gone. Don't try to find me. Please don't. I've been thinking a lot lately. Being with me and having me around brings only hurt to everyone. You all deserve more than that. It's my fault that everyone is hurting and I can't keep doing that to everyone. I don't think I have anything left in me that can love or be loved. That's why I've left. Dawn won't understand, but she will be better off without me. Please take care of Michael, I know you will.
Remember what my dad told Angel about it taking a big man to take care of his brother's child? You've done nothing but take care of me and Michael. I know you will be the best person to watch over him. You are that bigger man.
Buffy
Spike bolted up off the bed, and over to the dresser. Several of Buffy's things were missing from the drawer. A quick check of the closet revealed the same. Her duffle bag was gone. He quickly tore down the stairs, running past Giles and causing him to inadvertently spill his morning tea. He threw open the door and ran down to the sidewalk, looking as far in each direction as he could, and calling her name. As Giles came down the walk behind him, he sunk to his knees, realization dawning upon him. As his father took the note from his hand, asking Spike what was going on, he could only manage one thought...
"She's gone," he whispered. "Oh God, she's gone."
________________________________________
a/n - see, it's getting there. Slowly but surely. Just wait for the next chapter!
________________________________________
Fourteen -I Used To Live Alone Before I Knew You by Irishrose
Chapter 14
"Anne, get a move on! You got tables backing up!" The grease covered cook-slash-owner barked out at her. The shout broke Buffy from her daydream. She'd been caught up in watching a young couple enjoying their baby girl while they waited for their order. The food industry was the last place Buffy ever wanted to work, but when you were a runaway with a fake ID and almost no money, you took whatever would put food on your table. This job was barely doing that. She pretty much lived on beans and Top Ramen.
She went back to waiting on the mostly rude customers, but kept watching the couple from the corner of her eye. The smiles and baby talk were almost entrancing. It made her wonder about the ones she'd left behind. What would Michael look like now? Did he have more hair yet? Were Dawn and Spike taking him out to restaurants like this couple? Would they be talking to him and laughing at each gurgled response from him? Was he happy? Would he remember her?
No. Best not to go down that road. She'd done what she'd done for a reason, and it was the best thing to do. They could provide something for him that she would never able to. It was better this way.
"Miss? Do I know you?" The young woman asked her. "Isn't your name Buffy?"
Buffy looked long and hard at the woman. It finally dawned on her that the woman was from Sunnydale. She graduated with Angel. "No, no. My name's Anne. Maybe you just recognize me from here."
"Oh, sorry, I could have sworn you were her," she replied. Her attention was immediately drawn to the child Buffy was so obviously watching. "Her name's Brenna. She's our pride and joy," the woman beamed.
Buffy studied the infant a little more after a quick glance to make sure the boss wasn't watching her again. "She favors you. But I think she has his nose," she noted.
"Thanks, we were very lucky to get a child that looked a little like us. But we would have loved her either way," the woman assured, as she reached out took the hand of the man sharing the booth with her. "I can't imagine what her mother must have gone through to give her up."
Buffy recoiled as if she'd been struck. Intense emotions crossed her face at a rapid speed. Did she know? Did the woman know what she'd done? No, she couldn't. It was coincidence, nothing more. "Um, I, I need to get back to work before I get fired. Sorry to disturb you," Buffy quickly reasoned, her voice overly thick from emotion.
She finished out the shift without glancing at the family again. It helped that the dinner rush was busier than usual. But on her way home, she couldn't keep her thoughts from straying to the couple and what the woman had said. She couldn't stop wondering about her own child. That was when her imagination started running amok. Would they have given Michael away? Did they decide it would be too difficult to keep him? Spike and Dawn would have had school. They would have difficulty now that it was just Giles and he would have had his hands already full. Maybe they had no choice but to give him up. Suddenly she had to know. Had to see them again. Just to make sure. She would stay hidden, and just check on them.
Without stopping by her tiny one room apartment, she headed straight for the bus station and boarded the first bus that passed through Sunnydale.
**********
It had been hell getting things arranged to make sure Michael was cared for, without anyone having to sacrifice school to do so, but they had done it. It certainly helped that Spike had graduated this year, giving him the summer to care for the boy. He and Giles did their best to shoo Dawn out of the house as often as possible. They wanted to make sure she didn't get so wrapped up in caring for her nephew that she gave up her own life in doing so. There were other problems, like signing for care and shots. However, Dawn had come to the rescue on that front, with a mysterious talent for signing Buffy's signature flawlessly.
Some days it was harder than others for him to forgive Buffy. Spike wasn't entirely sure that he had. On one hand, he'd understood to some degree. On the other, he was completely pissed at her for running off like that without even giving them the chance to talk to her. But then there were days like today, when he just felt really sad for her and everything she was missing.
They were lying on a blanket on the front lawn. Michael was on his stomach, and had scooted to the edge of the blanket in a fervent attempt to try and eat a few blades of the grass. Michael babbled out something as he finally captured a hand full of grass and attempted to force it into his mouth. Spike laughed at him and pulled him back to the center of the blanket, before extracting the grass, much to the child's dismay. But Michael quickly set about heading for the edge once again.
That was when Spike got an odd feeling of being watched. Not unusual, considering they were in the front yard, but it seemed a little different somehow. He sat up and gave a hard look around, when a quick movement caught his eye across the road and a couple of houses down. He could've sworn... No, that was just his imagination. She'd left them all. And knowing how stubborn she was, he didn't doubt for a moment that she wasn't coming back.
He returned to playing with Michael, but kept an eye on the area just in case. After a few minutes, he was rewarded when an all too familiar form stepped out from behind a hedge again. This time, he whipped his head around just in time to catch his watcher off guard. Even across the distance, he knew it was her. Suddenly something in him snapped. He felt his body flush in anger. As she stood there momentarily stunned, he snatched up Michael and the blanket and stormed inside the house. He slammed the door so hard that is shook the windows and startled Michael, who protested with a loud wail.
A second later he thought perhaps he should go back out and try to find her, but then thought better of it. He had no doubt she was now long gone. But at least she had been there. Spike could have kicked himself for responding like that, and again for upsetting Michael. As he bounced the baby to calm him, his mind started wondering. What was she doing here? Had she been here all along? As Spike settled himself on the couch, he debated what to do. It only took a moment to realize that there wasn't anything to be done. Buffy would only be found when she was ready to be found. He just wished he knew when that would be.
**********
Why had she stayed there so long? She should've just left once she saw them. But she'd gotten wrapped up in watching Michael as he pushed himself around on the blanket. The image was frozen inside her head. The baby playing with something at the edge of the blanket. Spike's contented smile as he watched Michael. Spike laughing at the child's antics. The way the sun shone down on them, the mottled shade from the tree casting strange shadows on them. It was almost surreal.
And then Spike and his darn sixth sense had caught her. She'd made a dash for her hiding spot the first time. She should have counted herself lucky and just left it at that. But no, she had to have one more peek. Then he'd without a doubt seen her. It was if he had been waiting for her to pop out. It had shocked her and she'd not been able to get her brain to cooperate at that moment and tell her what to do. That is, until Spike had scooped everything up and gone inside. Even from a couple of houses away, she didn't need his weird senses to tell her he was angry. It was just as well. She'd gotten what she came for. They were happy. They were content. She'd done the right thing.
So then why did it feel so bad? And what did she do now. On the bus ride there she had pondered that question. She certainly didn't have a big future in being a waitress at that dump she'd been working in. She didn't even have a job anymore since she'd failed to show up this morning. She had exactly $250 dollars in the form of her paycheck. That would get her a room at that roach motel on the highway. She still had the ID on her. Maybe she could find another job here. Maybe even start college this fall.
If she remembered correctly the college would take her with the GED she'd taken in LA. If she could swing some financial aid, and keep living on beans and ramen, she could just about manage it. Maybe she could even convince the bank to give her access to the fund her parents had started. Thank goodness dad had it deducted out of his check each payday. It was about the only thing he'd even done right since her mom died. And her grades had been good up until the accident. Maybe she could still finagle a bit of scholarship or grant money. It wasn't the greatest plan, but it was a plan none-the-less. With that in mind, she set off for her new home, The Sunnydale Arms.
**********
"Buffy was here today," Spike began tentatively over dinner. Spike glanced up to see Giles looking at him as like he was insane, and Dawn so angry that he was certain she would combust at any moment. Finally, Dawn set her fork down so carefully that it was obviously taking every ounce of effort she had not to throw it across the room. Then she got up without saying a word and stomped her way through the living room, up the stairs, and down the hall. The loud pop of her door slamming sounded a second later. He had to hand it to her, she was getting better. The first couple of months they couldn't even mention Buffy's name without Dawn giving them a screaming tirade against her sister. With a sigh, Giles looked earnestly at his son, his expression silently urging Spike to continue.
"She was watching from down the street. Didn't get close enough to say anything," he clarified.
"And you didn't stop her?" Giles asked with obvious incredulity.
"Didn't go after her so much as, um, well... storm back into the house," Spike mumbled.
"You what?!" Giles shouted.
"She didn't want to be seen. It's pretty clear she's not ready to come back," Spike justified himself.
"Spike, you have no idea why she was here. She may be in trouble, or hurt, or any number of things. I can't believe you of all people would be so cold," Giles fumed, throwing his napkin into his plate as he stood. "I'm going out to find her. She needs to know that *someone* gives a damn."
"You won't find her," Spike whispered out, once again mentally kicking himself. Could he have buggered this anymore? Did they all think he didn't give a damn? He was certain that father did, at least at the moment. He was pretty sure Buffy did as well. But it couldn't be farther from the truth. That's why it still hurt so much.
**********
The beauty of Uni was that you could get classes that were actually useful right along with the useless ones. You could take almost anything you wanted, as long as you took a few of the majors as well. After much consideration, Spike had chosen a couple of mechanics classes and a poetry class. The birds had practically flocked to him, seeing as how the only other testosterone in the class belonged to a fellow that he wasn't sure had an overly large supply of it to begin with. It amazed him that more guys didn't take poetry.
It was almost midterms when he spotted Buffy again. She'd been in the cafeteria. She was looking very lost, and he was almost tempted to confront her when suddenly that prat Parker came up behind her and started chatting her up. That set him in motion. He was determined to rescue her, when he was suddenly frozen in his tracks by what she did next. Buffy smiled so sweetly up at Parker, and he could have sworn she just batted her eyes. Then she let out a little giggle. For a moment he considered that she didn't know what Parker was like and then a small realization dawned on him. She was flirting with him. From the little smile, down to the hand that had settled on Parker's arm, to the way her, holy mother of...was that her tongue he saw dart out to lick her lips? She was actually backing Parker up now and the git was totally mesmerized.
Spike found that he suddenly couldn't move, as he watched in mute shock while Buffy leaned up and whispered something to the boy. A little grin crossed Parkers face before he nodded in agreement to whatever she'd said. Then the pair simply left their trays on the line and left the cafeteria, leaving Spike to wonder just who this Buffy was.
When Spike ran into her again, it was a few days later. She and Parker were in the quad, and the idiot was chasing after her like a puppy, while Buffy continued to ignore him as she chatted up another bloke, that guy who TA'd for that weird Psych professor. With much fascination, Spike listened as Parker asked if he'd done something wrong, if they could get together later. But when Buffy blew him off, he began shouting things that made Spike want to hunt him down and give him a good beating.
Spike wasn't sure what made him do it, but when the rest of the students cleared out and Buffy was left standing alone with her arms wrapped around her torso, he stepped out from his spot and right into her line of sight.
"Aw, did the big college boy hurt little Buffy's feelings? What's the matter, did he seduce you into bed and then decide to move on to the next willing airhead? Give you the big 'I'm so sensitive' line?" Spike asked as he sauntered up to her.
Buffy looked momentarily stunned, but only momentarily. Suddenly she took on an entirely different air. One he was totally unfamiliar with, coming from her. Even her features almost seemed to change as she began walking toward him. No, walking wasn't the right word for it, more like stalking. She practically oozed with a feline grace. This girl... no, this woman... was a predator. There was no other word for it.
As he stood entranced in the fire promised by her eyes, he suddenly found that Buffy wasn't walking toward him anymore. She was there. In front of him. Barely even separate from him, and one dainty hand was pulling his head down to her own. He found himself completely unable to resist as she leaned her lips in toward him. His eyes rolled closed of their own volition as he felt her breath whisper against his ear...
"I seduced him."
His brain finally processed that information after a second. His eyes popped open as he jerked back from this person who looked a lot like Buffy. But it couldn't be her. He was met with a short burst of laughter as this stranger left him standing alone in the quad, his mouth agape, his brow clearly creased with confusion. Alone to contemplate this new hardened version of the girl who stole his heart so long ago.
Fifteen - I've Seen Your Flag On The Marble Arch by Irishrose
"So Andrew, have you been out with that Buffy girl yet?"
The mention of Buffy's name caught Spike's attention as he was setting in for his poetry class. He tried his best to listen closely without actually appearing to do so. Sunnydale may not be the smallest of towns, but the rumors still circulated like one, and he had no idea how much people knew about his involvement with the girl who happened to be current hot topic.
"Who me?" Andrew squeaked out, looking a bit panicked that he was even being addressed. The poor kid usually did his best to fade into the background. After a second's pause and a few affirmations from the young women surrounding him, he finally stammered out his response. "W... well, that is, I... I, um.... I turned her down! Yeah, I turned her down. You know, can't be too careful around girls like that."
Despite the anger that threatened to bubble up and make him rip into them, Spike settled for rolling his eyes in annoyance. He wasn't sure who the butt of this joke was, Buffy and the implications of her being prowess, or Andrew and the implication that he was less than a man because hadn't been approached by her, probably both. He really despised these girls and their petty games. As best he could tell, Buffy's reputation had actually gotten ahead of her and was bordering on the ridiculously impossible.
"What about you, Spike?" One of the girls asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.
"Hmm? Me? No, I've never dated her," he answered honestly. This earned him a round of giggles from the gossip hens, and a relieved looking Andrew.
"That's not what we were asking, Spike, and you know it!" One girl grinned conspiratorially.
He looked around at the faces that were eagerly hoping to garner their latest juicy tidbit from his response. How could he answer them and not make either himself or Buffy look bad?
"Ahhh, so that's your game is it? What's the matter ladies, worried there's not enough of Big Bad Spike to go around?" Sure, he knew what they wanted. But he sure as hell wasn't going to give it to them. Spike leaned towards the group and started sending his most lascivious grin to each one in turn. "Well, not to worry. I assure you that once ole Spike sets his sights, no needs will ever go… unmet," He finished, curling his tongue in front of his teeth. It was that look that absolutely never failed to turn a girl into pure putty. He was only momentarily surprised when his gaze got around to Andrew, and the boy held the same look of mindless drool as the women surrounding him. Spike laughed in genuine amusement as Andrew suddenly became aware he'd been caught and started blushing and quickly opened his book.
Thankfully, the discussion was interrupted with a polite cough from the professor. "I trust you are all discussing today's topic. So, who would like to begin by telling me the significance of Sappho's writings and it's parallels with modern poetry?"
**********
He couldn't help it. The laugh caught him off guard and pulled him toward her. It was a sound he knew, and yet he hadn't heard it nearly enough. His feet carried him toward the sound without his permission. He had better things to do than spy on Buffy, but he couldn't seem to make his body understand that. He watched from a respectable distance as she talked to that big idiot from Psych 101. What was his name? Robert, Richard, Reese, Riley...that was it, Riley!
There it was again. Buffy's little laugh, yet somehow it seemed off. The more he watched her, the more he noticed that this wasn't really Buffy. She was smiling and nodding in rapt attention of everything the behemoth said, but the emotion wasn't reaching the rest of her. Her mouth was laughing, but her body was held in indifference. The closer he got, the more he could see that her eyes were simply cold and endless pits of. nothing. That bothered him. A lot.
A lot of things could have been said of Buffy over the years he'd known her, but phony was not one of them. Even after the car wreck, she hadn't tried to put on a show of being fine. This girl in front of him was putting up a major front, and the stupid git was buying it hook, line, and sinker. This girl in front of him wasn't feeling anything, and the psychology guru didn't even notice anything amiss.
Then something really interesting happened. She changed. Her eyes suddenly had a spark of something in them. Her body came to attention. In Riley's mid-sentence, Buffy leaned forward and planted a very hungry kiss on his lips. Her hands wondered up to his shoulders, and Riley started to respond to her kiss by deepening it. The whole display made him want to vomit and possibly rip someone's head off. Just as Spike was about to turn away and storm off in his usual manner, he noticed one of Riley's friends came jogging up, interrupting the couple, telling Riley that Dr. Walsh wanted to see him ASAP.
Thinking the show to be over with Riley's departure, Spike again started to leave, then things got interesting yet again when he overheard the guy speak to Buffy and in a way that garnered Spike's undivided attention.
"Leave him alone, Buffy," Forrest told Buffy in no uncertain terms.
"What?" Buffy asked, confusion obvious in her voice.
"You heard me. Riley doesn't need someone like you."
"Someone like me," Buffy parroted unbelievingly.
"Riley's a good guy. He doesn't need you coming in and tearing him down. The only thing you're going to end up doing is hurting him, and I can't sit by and watch that happen."
"How would I..." Buffy started.
"Look, Riley may be able to overlook you and your history, but not me. I know exactly what you are. So leave. Him. Alone," Forrest finished as he backed away, then turned and left. Buffy sat stunned. She wrapped her arms around herself and remained in that position as the quad emptied of everyone else.
Now Spike was torn. Should he chase down big and ugly? Should he just leave? Buffy wouldn't want his interference, but she didn't deserve that. She certainly didn't deserve what she was probably doing to herself right now. So, after cursing himself once more, he made his way to the bench she was sitting at.
"Stupid jerk was wrong you know," Spike said as he sat next to her. "Hasn't got a clue about who or what you are. None of them do."
Buffy's head popped up, and she peered at him for a second before she started shutting down. He could see it happening, until finally she just glanced off into the distance. Her expression now blank.
"My day is now complete. Here I was, thinking maybe a nice root canal would round it out, but a visit from you is much better."
"Funny as that was, I'm not feeling the love here," Spike wryly responded.
"You've lost your touch Spike. You used to be able to annoy me without trying so hard," Buffy informed him.
"Yeah, well you used to actually have emotions, instead of just acting like it," Spike retorted.
Buffy didn't seem to know what to say to that. Her mouth fished open and closed a few times, until she finally stopped and turned away from him.
"Was watching you talk to that Riley bloke. He has no idea, you know?" Spike told her, more statement than actual question. "He'll figure it out eventually though. Surely the guy can't be that dense."
"He's what I need right now," She tried to justify.
"No, you don't need him," Spike insisted. "You want him. There's a big difference. You want him because he's safe. You don't have to risk a thing. He buys into this little act you've got going, so you don't have to show him the real you behind the mask. "
Buffy seemed to contemplate that for a moment. "Is that so wrong?"
"Yeah, it is. Because eventually you'll want to feel, and you won't remember how. Not to mention, when he does suss it all out, he won't understand and he'll leave."
"Like everyone else did," Buffy mumbled.
"Looks like I'm still here," Spike pointed out, earning him a long and studying look from Buffy.
"Why?" She asked.
"Because I..." Holy crap, this isn't where he wanted this to go. She wasn't ready to hear the answer to that question. So, he didn't finish answering it. Instead, he picked at the hem of his t-shirt.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" There was genuine curiosity in her eyes.
Suddenly his world turned red. "Are you serious? I tried to tell you in almost every way I could think of!" Spike nearly shouted, as he stood up and faced her.
"Except coming out and saying the actual words," Buffy supplied.
"Well, yes, but... no!" If he didn't get out of here now, things were going to be said that couldn't be taken back. In his never-ending frustration, Spike let a very angry growl escape him. "Look, never mind. You go on back to playing your little games, and I'll go back to getting on with my life." Spike spun around, and started to stalk away.
"Spike, wait!" Buffy pleaded as she got up and followed him.
Spike stopped, and cursed his stupid feet for their traitorous action. He turned around, exasperated beyond all reason. "Look, forget I said anything." He looked into her eyes as he said it, and that was his undoing.
There was something there. The same thing he'd seen earlier on the bench when she'd "changed". As she got closer, he could make it out. It was a hunger. A desperation. A need. But a need for what, he wasn't sure.
"I just," She started, then paused as if unsure what to say. But her steps continued to bring her closer to him. "I just want to feel something," she finally whispered out as she stopped in front of him. Her hands took hold of his face, and pulled him slowly towards her own.
His eyes squeezed shut as his emotions warred within him. Love, desire, anger, desperation, elation, all tore through him, but the strongest one was doubt.
"Buffy...." He urgently tried to plea. But it was a faint whisper. Before he could finish his cry of 'Not like this!' her lips were upon his. Her sweet mouth crushing to his. Insisting… taking… wanting more. It felt like she was trying to pull his very soul from him by way of a kiss.
And all he could think was that he'd gladly give it to her.
Sixteen-Love Is Not A Victory March by Irishrose
His chest was going to burst open any moment. Not because of that whole sappy 'oxygen becoming an issue' thing, but because his heart was ready to explode at this rate, if it didn't stop all together that is. Then there was the sensation of his whole stomach riding up into his chest, making him feel like he would puke at any moment. Wait, that last one didn't seem right. He shouldn't he be feeling that should he? At that point, his brain re-established its communications with his body. His hands ceased to hold Buffy to him, and instead pushed her back to arms length.
Buffy, on the other hand, had different ideas. She pulled him back in to resume where they'd left off. His body tried to override his brain once more, but he managed to peel her away.
"Buffy, stop!"
He realized he probably could've said that a little less harshly when Buffy jerked back as if she'd been slapped. At first, she appeared to be angry, or maybe hurt, but that quickly changed to a look of horror. Was kissing him that bad? Apparently for her it was. He quickly stopped that line of thought, and tried to piece together what had happened exactly. Time was not on his side however, as Buffy began struggling to get away from him. Determined to not let her run this time, Spike pulled her to his chest and encompassed her in a tight hug. She continued to struggle, but it felt mostly token to him. In an effort to calm her down, he began stroking her hair and murmuring comforting noises.
"Shh, not going to hurt you. Calm down, it's ok. I'm not letting you go until you settle down."
After a minute or two, it started to work. She was outwardly calming, but he could feel the warm moisture of her tears through his shirt.
"See there, pet. You can still feel. It may hurt like a bitch, but it's better than nothing, yeah?"
Apparently he was full of wrong things to say tonight, because after a second to process his words Buffy became stiff as a board and the nearly silent sobs came to an abrupt halt. Funny, usually he was the one who always knew what to say to her, but not tonight. Buffy pushed against him with every ounce of strength she had, sending him flailing backward, tumbling right onto his arse. That look of righteous anger she was sporting didn't bode well for him either.
"It is *not* better!" Buffy bit out. "I didn't want to feel that!"
"Then what the bloody hell were you trying to do? 'Cause honestly, I'm getting some mixed signals here," Spike said, picking himself up of the ground. "You tell me to shove off, then you tell me you want to feel and try to practically crawl inside my skin, and then you knock me on my arse when I try to slow things down and get my head together!" Spike said, shouting at her, despite the fact that he had brought them nose to nose with a few steps.
"Forget it Spike. You wouldn't understand," Buffy said softly, as she turned a looked away.
"Then explain it to me," Spike pleaded. He was losing ground fast, though. She was shutting off again. In a desperate move, he cupped her face and leaned in to place one more kiss. It wasn't his best plan ever, but it was a plan none-the-less. Unfortunately, it didn't work. Buffy's palm gently pushed him away. When he tried to read her expression, what he found almost wrenched his heart from him yet again. It was an apology.
"You were wrong Spike, I do need Riley. Because this Buffy, is the only one left."
Spike watched as she went back to the bench and gathered her books, once again leaving him standing alone in the quad. She never heard the last words as he watched her walk away.
"You're wrong."
**********
Spike avoided the quad for the next few days. He was pretty certain that Buffy would be avoiding him as well, but a little insurance wouldn't hurt. Unfortunately, today was just one of those days that everything seemed to go wrong. Giles had approached him again and asked if he'd seen Buffy anymore. Of course, he'd already been running late, so Giles insistence to speak to him cost him dearly. He felt really bad about keeping his dad out of the loop, but he was dead sure that if Buffy were pushed too far she would pull another runner and might never be seen again.
So here he was, cutting through the quad, trying to get to his class on time. Naturally, Buffy was there. It was his lucky day after all. Not! She was talking to some other girl and looked very in to the discussion. He could probably slide by without her noticing him at all.
He could see the approaching disaster before it happened. It was like watching a car crash. Seeing everything collide and you know it's going to be bad, but you're powerless to stop it. That's exactly what this felt like, and he was still too far away to intervene. Buffy was lost in her conversation, while that idiot Riley was sneaking up behind her. Riley brought a hand up to tell whomever the girl was that Buffy was talking to, to stay quiet. The trap was complete, and Riley displayed his complete lack of a brain by grinning like an idiot as he took the final step and grabbed Buffy from behind.
The resulting scream pierced through the low hum of student activity, and brought everything and everyone to a stand still. Except Buffy.
In the space of less than five seconds, she effectively neutralized the perceived threat. Her foot crunched down on top of Riley's. Then she did something he couldn't see that caused Riley to turn loose of her arms in an attempt to cradle his crotch. That left him wide open to her elbow that was thrown back with enough force to bruise or possibly crack a rib or two had they been there. Too bad for Riley, his automatic reaction to the pain stimulus put his face at the perfect height instead. As he stumbled back a step in pain and protection, Buffy executed an even more painful looking kick to his knee, which brought him completely down.
To compound the situation and take it from bad to worse, two other things happened in rapid succession. The girl Buffy had been talking to, started to try and restrain Buffy. Forrest jumped in between Buffy and her target, which seemed to startle her back to conscious thought. There was no way this could end well. Spike dropped his books and took off at a dead run.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Forrest shouted.
"I...oh god, Riley?" Buffy stammered.
"Leave him alone psycho bitch! You and your damn issues!" Forrest started towards Buffy, who started trying to shrink away. "I told you, didn't I?!"
"Leave off you berk!" Spike shouted as he jumped in between Buffy and Forrest. "She didn't know it was him!"
"Well she sure as hell didn't bother to find out, did she?" Forrest replied, putting his imposing form closer to Spike, who failed to show any signs that he was intimidated.
"Serves him right! What kind of idiot sneaks up behind a woman and grabs her?" Spike started shouting, matching Forrest's volume.
"It was a game! People do it all the time!"
"Not to someone like Buffy!" Spike seethed.
"You mean a psychotic whor..."
Spike's left fist shot out before Forrest could complete the sentence. The punch connected audibly and sent the man reeling. He tripped over Riley, who was still on the ground, looking dazed and confused. Before Forrest could even think to stand, Spike was already above him. Two more punches assured he had his attention.
"You know nothing! You have no clue what that girl has been through, and if I ever see you near her again, I'll rip your throat out! Got it?!"
Forrest didn't nod, but simply glared up at Spike. Threat eliminated, Spike abandoned Forrest to see to Buffy. Damned if today couldn't get any worse. Buffy was sitting on the ground, her knee's hugged up to her. She was rocking slightly, but otherwise her mind seemed lost in space somewhere. He approached her slowly, trying to get her attention as he did so, but didn't get any acknowledgment.
"I think she's in shock," The girl Buffy'd been talking to said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make things worse."
Spike sighed heavily. "It's ok, you didn't know."
"Is she gonna be ok?"
"I don't know...." Spike looked at the girl whose name he didn't know. She seemed genuinely concerned.
"Tara, my name's Tara. Sorry."
"I don't know, Tara. I hope so," Spike offered. The girl seemed to accept that answer, and left off asking any more questions.
"Buffy?" Spike tried again to get her attention. "Buffy, look at me." That earned him a flash look from her eyes. Good, she was in there. "Buffy, it's ok. You did good. Some damn fine moves you picked up. Think you could teach me?" Another look. "Buffy, you did exactly what you were supposed to." A quick look at Riley. Spike looked behind him, to see how Riley was fairing. The guy must have one or two brain cells, because he looked to be putting the puzzle together. "He'll be right as rain before you know it. Won't try to startle you anymore I'd bet. Buffy, please, talk to me."
Her head came up, but she didn't look at anyone. Her face slowly melted into a gut-wrenching mask of sorrow. "I hurt him," she choked out.
"Buffy, you didn't know it was him. You did nothing wrong," Spike insisted. "I'm actually pretty proud of you," he smiled. Buffy glanced up with clear confusion, but it quickly faded to what he recognized as hope. "Come on; let's get you home," he said as he scooped her up without protest. As he walked away with his bundle, he paused as he walked by Riley.
"You gonna be ok?" Spike asked. Riley nodded an affirmation. Spike resumed walking as he finished addressing Riley, "I recommend you think twice next time you feel like being such a bloody pillock."
"No," Buffy spoke.
"No, he shouldn't think twice?" Spike asked, continuing his trek.
"No, you can't take me home," she clarified.
"Buffy, I'm not leaving you alone like this," Spike firmly insisted.
"Then stay with me," Buffy suggested softly, bringing Spike to a screeching halt.
"Buffy... I don't know if that's..." Spike hedged.
"Please? Just... stay?"
How could he refuse her? He agreed to her simple request. This he could do. He was good at picking up the pieces.
Seventeen - It's A Cold And It's A Broken Hallelujah by Irishrose
Chapter 17 – It’s A Cold And It’s A Broken Hallelujah.
**********
“Riley, your body was not built for this kind of stress.”
“I can handle it,” He insisted. “This is my deal Buffy, just…back off.”
“What is this?” Buffy asked, clearly not understanding his refusal to see the one doctor who could help him. “What’s happening to you?”
“I go back. Let the government get whimsical with my innards again,” he began, “they could do anything they... Best case scenario, they turn me into Joe Normal. Just…just another guy.”
“And that’s not enough for you?”
“It’s not enough for you,” He replied, defeated.
“Why would you say that?” She asked. What had she done to give him that idea?
“Come on, your last boyfriend wasn’t exactly a civilian,” He pointed out.
“So, that’s what this is about?” She said, getting angrier by the second. “You’re going to *die*, over some macho pissing contest?”
“It’s not about him,” Riley shook his head, clearly conveying that he thought she still didn’t understand what he was saying. “It’s about us! You’re getting stronger every day… more powerful. I can’t touch you. Every day, you’re just a little further out of my reach.”
“You wanna touch me?” Buffy strode up to him. “I’m right here. I’m not the one running away,” she insisted.
“Not yet,” He assured her.
So *that* was it! “So you have this all figured out? I’m bailing because you’re not in the super-club?”
Riley spread his arms wide, as if he was giving a gesture of surrender. “It’s human nature.”
“Don’t Psych 101 me!” She demanded. “Not now. Not after everything that…Nobody has ever known me the way you do. Nobody. I’ve opened up to you in ways that I’ve never opened up to… God, you’re just sitting back there thinking that none of this means anything to me…”
“I never said that,” Riley interrupted. His face showed he meant that, but why wouldn’t he look at her?
"Because it *obviously* doesn’t mean anything to you! Do you think so little of me that…”
“Buffy…” Riley interjected.
“No!” She took change of the conversation again. “ No…Do you think that I spent the last year with you because you had super-powers? If that’s what I wanted, then I’d be dating Spike!” She paused to make sure he absorbed her words. “Riley, I need you.”
Riley finally gave her a full look. His expression asking, pleading, with her to tell him that she meant it.
“I need you with me,” She told him. “And I need you healthy. But if you want to throw it all away because you don’t trust me, then…” She considered her next words. “Then I am *still* gonna make you go to that doctor.” She finished, her eyes daring him to try and defy her any further.
Riley seemed to take measure of her for a moment. He weighed his options, running everything she’d said over again in his mind. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. “Take me to him,” he said as he once again looked at her. Their eyes met, and they seemed to communicate a silent understanding, though he still appeared a little defeated.
“We have to hurry,” Buffy said, moving past him toward the entrance. Riley grabbed her arm, pulling her back.
When he had her attention, he spoke quietly. “Loving you is the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”
“I don’t know why,” She spoke, honestly. She caressed his chest just over his heart briefly. “The doctor said we didn’t have much time.”
Riley followed her out. As they made their way to the hospital, his insecurities kept screaming at him. Why hadn’t she said it? She’d said she needed him. He’d professed his love and she’d not responded in kind. It was petty, but it screamed at him anyway.
The ensuing rush to find the doctor Spike and Harmony had absconded with distracted him, but only for a small time. All too soon, his insecurities came rushing back, even stronger than before. No sooner had the doctor proclaimed him fixed, than she’d agreed that he was normal and proceeded to excuse herself to go check on her mother. She hadn’t even made sure he got home first. It was the beginning of the end for him, and he knew it.
**********
Yet another dream. Riley had been a prominent feature lately, but she usually treated him much better. And this time she’d felt every one of Riley’s volatile emotions, including his overwhelming resignation. So what was the lesson here? Was this what she would do to him; get him completely in over his head and then crush him, because even if she did need him, she didn’t love him the same way he loved her? Could she change this course before they were too far gone? Did she even want to try? Why was she with Riley anyway?
He was exceptionally kind. He had genuine feelings for her. He was sweet and caring and had absolutely no idea about her past. He had no preconceived notions about her. He couldn’t care less what anyone said about her. He wasn’t bad in bed. He gave an air of being a little old fashioned. He had a very boyish smile that reminded her of Angel…
Oh God, was that what pulled her to him? He was tall and broad. He had the smile, and was occasionally kind of goofy around her. He had a similar sense of humor, but didn’t seem to be as contemplative as Angel.
Buffy groaned internally. She was using Riley as a substitute Angel. He was totally the rebound guy who looked like the ex. No! Angel was not her ex. He was her first true love. He was her salvation. He was her protector, her lover, the father of her…
Michael. She hadn’t seen him in several weeks, and even then she hadn’t seen him well. She’d been way too far away to really *see* him. She’d just assured herself that he was ok, then taken off running when Spike had stormed inside with him.
She couldn’t go back to the Giles’ house. Her reasons for leaving hadn’t changed. She didn’t think peeking in through the window would work. If she knew Giles, he’d still be looking for her. But she wanted to see Michael. She didn’t want to hurt any of them anymore. She had caused everyone so much pain that they hasn’t deserved; it was something she’d excelled at. So she’d been strong and stayed away.
Except, she was still hurting people. And if she needed proof of that, all she had to do was look at her latest victim – Riley. No, she certainly couldn’t go back. But still, she wished there was a way she could see Michael? If she could just get a peek…
**********
Buffy had been curled up on the bed in a fetal position since he’d placed her there and curled himself around her. He’d been taken aback that she was living in this dump, but it was clean and he could see her little touches here and there that warmed the place up a bit. He’d got her to sleep some earlier, but now she was just staring at the wall, her brow occasionally wrinkled in thought. She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d awoken.
Spike glanced at his watch. It was getting late. He’d convinced Dawn to watch Michael tonight and that had been a hell of a feat. Even so, he couldn’t stay forever. But he also couldn’t leave until he was certain she’d be ok; and last time he’d checked, near-catatonia wasn’t anywhere close to ok. Neither Xander nor Willow knew that Buffy was back. Maybe that Tara girl that Buffy’d been talking to could help, stay with her a while, but he had no idea how to contact her.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Spike leaned up and sent a look over his shoulder, as if he could make whoever was knocking go away by sending them a look they couldn’t see. When the person knocked again, he gave a glance back to Buffy. She looked to be sleeping again. As the knock continued, Spike swore he was going to kill the uninvited visitor if they woke Buffy up. What the devil was so damn urgent anyway?
Spike carefully disengaged himself and stalked over to the door. He glanced through the peephole and gave a frustrated growl at seeing Riley on the other side. He quickly opened the door before the idiot had the chance to beat it off its hinges.
“To what do I owe this displeasure?” Spike asked, while trying to look as annoyed as possible.
“I need to talk to Buffy,” Riley insisted while trying to see around Spike, who held the door closed a little more.
“Keep your voice down you sod! She’s sleeping,” Spike scolded.
“I should kick your ass for that insult,” Riley coolly told him.
“Oh get over it. I toss that word in every other sentence,” Spike supplied.
“Bad boy act?”
“Who says it’s an act?”
“Thought so.”
“Don’t really care what you think,” Spike informed him.
“Is she… ” Riley paused in hesitation, “Is she ok?”
Spike looked hard at the man before him for a moment. He cared about Buffy, maybe more, the poor guy. He’d humor him a while. It would give him a chance for a smoke anyway.
“Not in here. Let me get my smokes,” Spike told him as he turned and grabbed his coat. He fished inside the inner pocket and pulled out his lighter and a cigarette. He folded the coat back up and put it back in the chair before heading outside, with Riley close behind. He leaned against the Desoto as he lit up, and took a much-needed pull. He relished its calming effect for a moment before blowing it out as he glanced up at the stars that were starting to punch through the evening sky. “Truth is…I don’t know.”
**********
It was now or never, Buffy thought as she slid off the bed. Keeping one ear open to the muffled voices just outside the door, she quickly unfolded Spike’s coat and dug into the pocket she knew he kept his wallet in. She opened the wallet and began fingering through its contents. Typical Spike… forty dollars, a driver's license, a driver's license with a much older birth date, a condom, ah yes… the pictures. There was one of her and Dawn, a very faded one of Spike’s mom, one of Spike’s family just after they’d moved next door to her, and four pictures of Michael.
**********
Riley seemed to consider Spike’s answer for a moment before asking, “You’re not going to tell me are you?”
“Not my story to tell,” Spike shrugged.
“Not sure I want to know anyway,” Riley mumbled.
“Not what I expected to hear from Psych-boy.”
“The past is done. It doesn’t matter to me,” Riley explained.
“It should. Probably would have kept your nose out of that plaster,” Spike pointed out. “It also would have been ringing warning bells in your head way before now.”
Riley sighed long and hard. “I heard them. I just figured I could…” He trailed off.
“Make it better?” Spike smiled, but didn’t look up. “Make her see that you love her? Make her love you back? Got news for you, someone beat you to the punch and you’ll never replace him.”
“Who *are* you?”
“The very pathetic idiot who keeps trying,” Spike replied sadly.
“You’re in love with her,” Riley accused.
“And you’re not?” Spike fixed Riley with a look that dared him to deny it.
Silence reigned for a moment. Not knowing what else there was to discuss, Spike snubbed out his cigarette and started to head back to Buffy’s room.
**********
The first three pictures looked to be sequential, about two months apart. The fourth one was the same as the third picture, and they were the most recent ones. Michael was grinning like a little imp, and she could only guess what the photographer had done to elicit the look. His hair looked darker in the picture, and held just a tiny bit of wave to it. His big chocolate eyes sparkled, and Buffy could well imagine that in a few years he would be more than a handful. He looked like he’d filled out very well, if not quite caught up to the other kids she’d seen around his age.
As her index finger caressed the picture, she could almost swear she could feel him again, and it brought a sad little smile to her face. She almost missed the sound of Spike’s hand on the doorknob. She quickly slid the picture into her pocket, folded Spike’s wallet back up and replaced it in his coat pocket, before sliding back onto the bed.
**********
“So, this guy, who is he?” Riley asked.
Spike froze, his hand on the doorknob. After a long moment, he answered over his shoulder.
“*Was*, mate. Was my brother. Died 'bout a year ago. Not sure she didn’t die with him,” Spike finished, pinning Riley with a hard look. He watched as Riley assimilated that information.
"I don’t believe that," He finally responded. "I mean, yeah, it always feels like there's something just below the surface that I can't quite reach; but, sometimes she's so…"
"Alive?" Spike finished. "Like she can't wait for the whole world to really start? 'Cause she knows that once it does, she can really start to *be* alive?" He trailed off. After a moment and a deep sigh, he finished, "Ah, hell, I have no idea what the hell I'm saying. Doesn't matter anymore, anyway. Not since Angel died."
"You don't believe that. You wouldn't be here if you did," Riley responded.
"Doesn't matter what I believe; it's what she believes," Spike said as he fixed Riley with a hard look.
Riley gave a little nod, then turned and walked away.
As Spike closed the door behind him, he quickly glanced over at Buffy. She was still resting where he’d left her. He picked up his coat and put his lighter back in the pocket. Hold on, what the…? He pulled his wallet out of the pocket, frowning at the pack of cigarettes smooshed underneath it. He gave a suspicious look over at Buffy, and he couldn’t help but smile. She’d almost gotten away with it. He thumbed through the wallet, noting smugly that one of the pictures was missing.
He tucked the wallet into its correct pocket, and then climbed back on the bed behind Buffy.
“You can keep it. That’s why I had it.” He didn’t think she was going to acknowledge him, but she finally turned her head toward him just a little.
“I… I just wanted to see him,” She whispered.
Spike nodded. “It’s almost Christmas. You should come see him.”
“No.”
“Buffy…”
“No! I can’t do anything but hurt him!” Buffy asserted as she quickly scrambled off the bed. Spike shot off his side of the bed and mimicked her stance.
“That’s crap and you know it! You *can* love; you can be happy!” Spike shouted as his anger got the best of him. He watched as Buffy’s expression hardened. She was right pissed off and it only made him even more angry.
“You want to know what I can do? I can kick your ass from here to Tuesday!” Buffy seethed as she stalked over to Spike.
“Mmm… love it when you play rough, baby,” Spike grinned rakishly.
“Get out!”
“Not going anywhere. I told you that!”
“Get out, before I *throw* you out!” Buffy ordered through tightly clenched teeth.
“You couldn’t make me leave if you tried,” Spike goaded her.
“I can make you do anything I want! All I have to do is pout my widdle wips and get all teawy eyed,” Buffy affected a very bad pout that clearly mocked him, and her eyes took on a dangerous glint.
“You bitch! Spike growled out. "You know what? Fuck you! You want me gone? Fine! I’m tired of playing by your rules anyway! You want to know what I think? I think you’re just a scared little girl who’s too damn afraid that she might have to feel something again! Shit happens, Buffy, mostly to you. Yeah, your life has sucked so far, but it’s time to give up the damn martyrdom gig and do something about it!”
Buffy looked ready to explode any second. Visions of himself sporting a knee brace and nose plaster flashed through his mind. So, he was quite shocked when Buffy suddenly grabbed his face and pulled him in for a devouring kiss that melted his defenses and his brain, and sent what little blood that hadn’t already done so rushing straight south. Before he even registered what was happening, Buffy had his jeans undone and Spike found himself buried deeply inside her.
Suddenly his mind came rushing back to him, and he knew that whatever he did next might very well win or lose Buffy forever.
Eighteen- There Was A Time You Let Me Know by Irishrose
So what’s a man to do when he finds himself suddenly buried inside the love of his life? He could spin them round and use the wall behind him for leverage, drawing on the desperate passion of the moment. He could take the few steps that would place them on the bed, making the moment as tender as it should be. He could move them over to the chair, letting her have all the control she seemed to need. Hell, he could even just sink them to the carpet and go at it like crazed rutting weasels.
Or, apparently, he could do nothing except stand there with a look of confused awe on his face.
Well, who could blame him? He’d been expecting her to hit him, not shag him. Which brought Spike back to his initial question of what to do, and added another question to it… Why? He desperately struggled to hold onto his fleeting thoughts as the beauty he held, began moving around him. He needed to get control of the situation, and he needed to do it now!
Snapping out of his stupor, he took them over to the bed and eased them down onto the comforter, deciding this was where he would have the most control. He didn’t want to begrudge Buffy her control, but he needed to do this right if there was any way he was going salvage any kind of future for either of them.
“Buffy, not that I’m complaining,” Spike uttered as he managed to pry his lips from the determined kissed and feisty nibbles Buffy planted along his lower lip. “But, what are you…”
“You said to do something about it,” Buffy explained. Giving him a hard, questioning look. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” She asked, her eyes changing from their earlier certainty, to confused hesitancy.
Spike lost his tenuous grasp on the tiny shred of hope that Buffy had done this for the right reasons. A long sigh escaped him as he sank forward, resting his weight onto his forearms. He let his forehead drop to the bed next to her as his lips caressed the tender curve of flesh between her neck and her shoulder.
“Why did you think that, luv?”
“But...I thought you,” Buffy’s tremulous voice grew more confused and her movements ceased. “But, I felt you… your body… it…and, and mine…but, everyone… I just wanted…”
Buffy had just disjointedly given Spike all the information he needed, and he cursed every bastard who’d ever laid a finger on Buffy. From her father who punctuated his words with his fists, to Riley who’d probably fallen for her unwitting siren's call. Each one had used her form, in one way or another, to communicate their feelings. Whether it was anger, contempt, or love. Her body had essentially become her only means to controlling her world, her best way of connecting. That was why she’d been so damn desperate for Angel’s touch after the rape. She'd had no idea how to connect.
And suddenly her disappearing act made a lot more sense. She’d become so dependent on the physical part of her world, she must have been terrified when she no longer felt she had any means of control. So she left, in search of that control, that power, again. And now she’d learned to wield that power well.
So, the question now was, how does one de-program someone who doesn’t even realize they’ve been programmed? Spike almost laughed as that thought emerged. He’d answered the question just by asking it.
“I… I just wanted…”
“You wanted what?” Spike began, his head popping up to look her fully in the face. “To show me what you want? Hmmm… let’s see now, you’ve made no overtures of love, so that rules out lovemaking. That pretty much just leaves mindless fucking as the other option. Right then, best get busy,” He finished matter-of-factly, as his body started doing just that, in hard, detached, movements of an automaton performing its assigned task.
His actions had the desired effect, as within a minute Buffy began to react. She’d tried flipping them over, so she would be in a position of control, but he hadn’t let her. Spike simply squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to keep himself from caving in and gathering her tenderly into his arms.
“No…Spike stop, this isn’t…this isn’t what……stop it!”
Spike froze, and pulled back a little as he looked at her. He put on his best expression of confusion and cocked his head to one side. “But, isn’t this what you’ve been wanting? To connect?”
Buffy looked stricken for a moment, then looked away.
“No,” Spike commanded, “Look at me, Buffy!”
When she failed to respond, Spike took her face in one hand and gently turned it toward his own. When she still kept her eyes averted, he whispered softly, “Please look at me.”
When she finally met his eyes, he could easily see the fear and questioning in their depths. ‘Now! Tell her now, you dolt!’ His brain screamed at him.
“I… I though you…wanted me,” Buffy whispered.
“God, Buffy, of course I do,” Spike grinned, as his thumb gently caressed her cheek. “I’d have to be a bloody eunuch not to. But, not like this,” Spike said, as he rested his forehead against Buffy's forehead.
“I, I don’t under…” Buffy frowned.
“Buffy," his voice a pleading prayer, "What I want, is for you to feel love, real love. I want you to love life, and every moment in it. I want you to be happy, and healthy, and whole. I want you to be the woman I know you were destined to be. *That* is what I want. And this," Spike's gently surged deeper into Buffy, "has nothing to do with any of that."
Buffy blinked up at him a few times, before opening her mouth to reply. But before she could form any words, Spike brought his index finger to rest on her mouth.
“Shhh,” Spike effectively silenced her as his lips replaced his finger in a gentle caress of a kiss before he withdraw from he and then rolled them over, bringing her to rest across his chest. “Didn’t say it to get anything back from you. Rest, it’s been a long day,” Spike said as he placed a kiss on the crown of her head.
He could feel that her brow was still marred with confusion. But eventually he felt her begin to relax, and her breathing slowly evened out until she finally slipped into sleep.
**********
Buffy scanned the book of sonnets Angel had given her for her birthday. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“You really like it?” Angel asked hesitantly.
“Of course I do. It's sweet and thoughtful and.... full of neat words to learn and say like 'wilt' and 'henceforth'.” Buffy answered. She’d never considered herself a big scholar, but she liked literature and it was a very thoughtful gift.
“Then why'd you seem more excited last year when you got a severed arm in a box?” Angel gave her a half grin.
“I'm sorry,” Buffy distractedly apologized. The whole situation over her powers had her off-kilter and now she’d insulted Angel’s gift. It was a banner week all around. “It's just, suddenly there's this chance that my calling's a wrong number, and... it's just freaking me out a little.”
“That's understandable,” He conceded.
“Angel, what if I have lost my power?” Buffy’s fear and frustration colored her voice.
“You lived a long time without it. You can do it again,” Angel assured her.
“I guess.” She didn’t feel as confident. “But what if I can't? I've seen too much. I know what goes bump in the night. Not being able to fight it...” Buffy closed her eyes and suppressed a shudder. What would she do without being able to fight? Without being able to control the fight?
“What if I just hide under my bed, all scared and helpless? Or what if I just become pathetic? Hanging out at the old Slayer's home, talking people's ears off about my glory days, showing them Mr. Pointy, the stake I had bronzed,” Buffy pouted.
“Buffy, you could never be helpless or boring, not even if you tried,” Angel smiled.
“Don't be so sure.” Buffy hesitantly proceeded, “Before I was the Slayer, I was... Well, I, I don't want to say shallow, but... Let's say a certain person, who will remain nameless, we'll just call her ‘Spordelia’, looked like a classical philosopher next to me. Angel, if I'm not the Slayer, what do I do? What do I have to offer? Why would you like me?”
Angel appeared to consider that thought a moment. “ I saw you before you became the Slayer,” He softly confessed.
“What?” Buffy blurted, clearly not expecting him to say that.
“I watched you, and I saw you called. It was a bright afternoon out in front of your school. You walked down the steps... and... I loved you.”
“Why?” How could he have loved her without even knowing her?
“Because I could see your heart. You held it before you for everyone to see, and I worried that it would be bruised or torn. And more than anything in my life I wanted to keep it safe... to warm it with my own,” Angel finished.
And with that thought, Buffy began to wonder if maybe she could make it. Even without her powers. As Angel enveloped her in his comforting embrace, she thanked him for his support. “That's beautiful. Or taken literally, incredibly gross.”
“I was just thinking that, too.”
Buffy suddenly leaned back, when the voice she heard no longer matched the body she held, only to see she was mistaken. It did match. It was Spike who was now holding her.
Nineteen - What's Real And Going On Below by Irishrose
Chapter 19 – But Now You Never Show It To Me, Do You?
**********
Buffy awoke as Spike emerged from the bathroom, obviously having showered and partially redressed, he was rubbing a towel through his hair to dry it.
“Well, well, well, sleeping beauty seems to be awake,” Spike smiled.
“Yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to keep you all night,” Buffy sheepishly offered as she twisted the sheet around her.
“Not a problem. I managed to talk Dawn into watching Michael for the night, not without forking over some dosh, but it’s all good,” Spike grinned a moment before turning serious. “But, obviously I can’t stay forever. Come back home with me. Christmas is just around the corner. Always a big bash!” Spike finished with hesitant enthusiasm.
“I don’t think I…” Buffy started
“Christ, Buffy, I thought we did this last night?” Spike replied with frustration, throwing his hands in the air.
“No, last night you managed to screw up what I was trying to do!” Buffy retaliated.
“Damn it Buffy, I thought I got through to you last night,” Spike climbing up in volume and frustration.
“Oh you got through, all right. Way before I did, thank you very much,” Buffy barbed, not even sure herself where this was coming from. She just felt like everything and everyone was still trying to run her life to their own liking.
“WHAT?!” Spike shrieked, incredulous. “Where do you come off…”
“I didn’t, *that’s* the problem!”
Spike could only fish-mouth as he tried to form a response in his obvious cloud of confusion.
“You just had to take command, didn’t you?” Buffy started, her righteous anger, starting to fall away to confused tears. “I just wanted one moment! One damn moment that was mine, but you couldn’t…” Buffy trailed off as her words failed her.
A look of understanding passed over his face. It was all about the power, after all. She needed it; he’d had it. It appeared that he’d reached her, but only partially.
“No, I couldn’t,” He replied, suddenly seemingly a lot calmer, and sadder. “Not like that. If you would listen…”
“NO!” Buffy screamed. “I’m through listening to everyone. Do you hear me? Through letting everyone else demand! I’m through letting everyone control my life. I’m done, damn it!” Buffy screeched as she stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, and clicked the lock closed.
**********
Where had it all gone so wrong? Spike thought he’d gotten through to her last night. Now he wasn’t so sure what he’d done was the right thing, no matter what his gut told him. Ok, so she did seem to understand it was all about control now. She’d looked to be about to listen to him, until he actually asked her to…
That thought stopped him, and he began to replay the entire morning in his head, until suddenly he had the answers he’d been looking for. Buffy’s shut down and revolt coincided with him taking control…
His train of thought was suddenly derailed as he heard the sound of breaking glass come from the bathroom…lots and lots of glass. In one step he was at the bathroom door. He tried the knob, calling to Buffy through the door, but it was locked. When he received no answer, he began beating in earnest on the door while yelling her name, but still to no avail. In sheer panic, as her last sentence also replayed in his head, he backed up a step and kicked in the door.
Much to his relief, he found Buffy sitting very calmly on the floor, not unconscious as he’d feared. Then he noticed the rather nasty looking shard of glass mirror clutched tightly in her hand. She was staring at it intently. He made a quick glance at the rest of her, but the only sign of injury he could find were minor scratches on the knuckles of the hand holding the glass.
Spike knelt down on the floor directly in front of her, but still got no indication that she even knew he was in the room. She seemed entranced with the glass in her hand.
“Buffy, love, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but please give me the glass,” Spike calmly requested, despite the raging hurricane of fear inside him.
Seconds stretched into minutes as they both sat there like that. Buffy calmly studying the shard, Spike tightly tensed in terror, ready to spring forward if necessary, but not wanting to galvanize her into action.
“I think I understand now,” Buffy finally stated, still focusing on the shard.
“Understand what, Buffy?” Spike asked.
For long moments she wouldn’t reply, just continued to study the sharp object that was inducing his terror. Seeing that this wasn’t going to be a quick confrontation, Spike slowly settled himself in front of her.
“Why,” She finally answered. “I don’t think I understood until now why I used to. Why it felt right.”
“Why you used to what?” Spike asked, leaning in to hear her answer.
“Control. It was something I could control.”
“Buffy, please let me help you. *What* was something you could control?”
“I don’t think anyone ever knew I did it. It wasn’t very often. Just when things were really bad, you know. Anything would work, but glass was so much… prettier,” Buffy smiled fondly.
Spike feared that he was beginning to understand her fragments, as Buffy began to shadow the glass over one palm.
“Beautiful, and delicate, and perfect for little tiny…”
“Buffy,” Spike began as tears began to well in his eyes. “It's Michael’s first Christmas, please don't make it be the one when his mum…” Spike couldn’t finish his sentence.
“Christmas? I’m telling you my inner secrets, and you’re worried about Christmas?” Buffy’s brow marred in confusion, but she still hadn’t looked at Spike.
“It’s a useless holiday, anyway. I don’t think God likes me anyway,” Buffy supplied, very nonchalant.
“Buffy,” Spike began, but was suddenly cut off as Buffy looked up at the ceiling.
“Why? What the hell did I ever do to deserve this?” She screamed at the ceiling. “You’ve taken everything and everyone from me!” She continued at the top of her lungs. “You’ve taken my mother, my childhood, my innocence, my body, and even my Angel! Everything! For what?! What did I do to deserve this?!?”
Buffy was now sobbing uncontrollably, and her hand was dripping in rivers where she’d clutched the glass too firmly in her rage. Seeing his opportunity, Spike gently pulled her onto his lap, and carefully took the glass from her hand. She continued sobbing as he grabbed a nearby dishtowel and wrapped it around her hand tightly.
“You’re wrong, love” Spike softly replied. “He didn’t take everything. You still have a sis, and a son who need you very much. You have a man who considers you to be his daughter and is nearly beside himself worryin' over you. You've got friends still trying to find you. And you have a man who can’t imagine life without you, because he’s been hopelessly in love with you since the day he saw you.”
He allowed her to continue in her grief. He didn’t know how long they sat there like that. But as it started to slow down, he finally dared to ask her the question that weighed most heavily upon his mind.
“Buffy, I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to be honest with me, ok?” Spike asked. His only reply was a slight hesitant nod. “If I hadn’t been here, would you…would you have…” God, he couldn't even finish the thought, but he had too, "would you have…killed…"
Buffy looked up in clear confusion. “You thought I was going to…”
“Buffy, I was terrified you would be dead when I came through that door. Or, worse, when I was sitting in front of you…”
“Too easy,” Buffy answered in a quiet voice. “I always thought that was the easy way out. That if I’d just wait, just a little longer, things had to get better. I never really considered dying. I wanted to live first.”
“Then what…” Spike started to ask, when the answer dawned on him. He’d read about it in a book after Buffy’s attack, trying to find an answer that would allow him to help her. “Cutting,” He answered his own question, as he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He was silently answered with a nod. “When?”
“Hear and there," Buffy shrugged. "About a dozen times since I was about 12, I guess.”
“And just now,” Spike added.
“No,” Buffy responded immediately, causing Spike to frown down at her. “I, I wanted to…but then you of all people had to pop in my head. And suddenly I understood. But, god,” Buffy began crying again, “God, how I wanted to," She wept, “ Why me, Spike?”
“Don’t rightly know. But I do know this; there are people that need you. Hell, *I* need you. Who else am I gonna find to be such a pain in my arse? Xander?”
Not hearing a reply more than an indiscriminate mumbled, sort of, nearly giggle, Spike glanced down again, only to note that his captive audience, was apparently falling asleep. He quickly checked her pulse, though in his head, he knew she’d not lost enough blood from her hand to knock her out, and he found it firm and steady.
He shifted his companion gently so he could carry her into the bedroom. He settled her into the bed and then slid in next to her, and pulled her close to him. He wouldn’t allow himself the luxury of sleep, but he could still offer her comfort. He had a feeling that with the demon’s she was fighting, she’d need him close by when the dreams came. Because they would; they always did.
**********
“I don’t like this…” Angel opined, slowly entering the Bronze behind her.
“Don’t like what?” Buffy turned and asked.
“There’s the bait,” Angel observed, “Where’s the hook?”
Suddenly the female vamp attacked as Buffy’s back was turned, but was easily beaten down by the stronger slayer.
“You’re right, why would they send just one?” Buffy wondered aloud, as her thoughts settled back onto her friends she’d so coldly shut out.
Back in the library….
“I still think we should have gone with her,” Willow argued.
“If Buffy’s about to lose it, I think we should be trying to reach minimum safe distance,” Xander argued, his anger still fresh as he thought of the sensual teasing Buffy had issued at his and Angel’s expense.
“Xander you know it’s a trap!” Willow reiterated, worried that no one was going to listen to her any more.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Giles interrupted the argument with his discovery. “Uhm…The Latin is translated from the Sumerian, and rather badly. ‘Closest to the master’ actually translates as ‘nearest’…physically,” He explained, then continued reading the translation, “ ‘The person or persons who were with him when he’…It is a trap. It just isn’t for her…” Giles said, noting the cadre of vampires surrounding them. They valiantly fought, but in the end, they'd all been taken.
Buffy entered the library to find it in shambles. A fight had obviously occurred there. A movement caught her eye near the upturned table and she assisted a bloody and beaten Xander to his feet. “Xander! What happened?”
“Vampires…the one’s you could handle yourself,” he mocked.
“Where are the others?”
“I don’t’ know,” Xander spat out at her. “I don’t know what your problem is, what your issues are, but as of now I officially don’t care. If you’d have worked with us for five seconds, you could have stopped this.”
“Ok, we just have to think,” Buffy said. She turned away from him. His words having shaken her greatly, but she didn’t want to deal with that just now. There were more pressing issues. “Where would they take them?”
“If they hurt Willow, I’ll kill you,” Xander seethed.
“Why did they take them and not you?” Buffy asked.
“Giles said the ritual,” He began. “They needed people who were close to the master…physically close, when he uh,”
“The one’s who were with the master when he died,” Buffy surmised.
“Giles, Willow, Cordelia,” Xander ticked off the names.
“Ms. Calendar,” Buffy finished the list.
“Odds are, they’ve got a complete set by now,” Xander sarcastically supplied.
“We need to find out where,” Buffy replied, mind already settling back to the bait she’d earlier encountered.
With Angel and Xander looking on, Buffy interrogated the vamp using a darkness inside her that she didn’t even know she possessed. Faced with certain torture, the vampire had easily given them the needed information and met her own swift ending. Buffy hardly even offered another thought to the vamp as her, Angel, and Xander made their way to the industrial area.
As the trio stealthily entered the abandoned factory, they were met with the macabre site of their friends hanging upside down and unconscious over the bones of The Master. The one who killed her. The one whom she’d thought she’d defeated.
“What’re you gonna do?” Xander whispered, as Buffy quickly assessed the situation.
Grim determination suffused Buffy with the strength she only now realized she’d been missing. “I’m gonna kill them all.”
The fight ensued. Throughout, Buffy felt her purpose filling her, giving her the strength and determination she needed to fulfill her chosen duties. As she fought the gathered vampires, she heard Angel and Xander rescuing the others but were quickly set upon by a few of the vampires that had split off.
Angel quickly shifted into his vampire face and began fighting as Xander cradled Willow, who had yet to wake up. As Buffy continued to fight, she took note of Angel’s own fight and in one of those moments when time seems to stretch into eternity Angel ceased to be the one fighting, his form fading into that of another…Spike. It was Spike now, who was watching her back and helping her to win the battle she was waging.
“Where’s Buffy?” Giles asked as he dazedly sat up.
“She’s working out her issues,” Xander replied as he noted Buffy continue to pound the vampires around her. With use of her quick wit, Buffy broke off a ceremonial torch and used it to stake one vamp while the flame dusted the last remaining vampire, causing the heavy sledgehammer he’d been wielding to fall to the floor with a dull thud. The fight was finally over.
“It’s over,” Willow quietly observed.
“No it’s not,” Xander astutely noted, as Buffy remained frozen…looking on at the remains of the thing that had defeated her.
The thing that had defeated her. The thing that she had almost let defeat her again. And with sudden clarity, Buffy realized what had almost happened. She'd abandoned everyone and everything, and rather than saving them, she’d nearly been the cause of their demise. All because she’d never really faced her issues. She’d simply pushed them to the side. She’d moved around, but never moved on.
Buffy picked up the dropped sledgehammer and began to beat the master’s bones to dust as everyone watched. Finally letting out all the fear, the anger, and the despair with each blow she landed.
Realizing what was happening, Spike slowly stepped up behind Buffy as she began to dissolve into tears. She turned into the offered arms and Spike pulled her into an embrace of true comfort as she finally began to come to terms with all that’d happened.
**********
Spike was still holding her, watching her face as she slept. He knew she must be dreaming, he’d watched her a few times before. As he watched and waited for the scream he was sure was coming, he consciously drew her closer to him as he tried to comfort her. He knew he couldn’t fight her demons for her. He could only be there to patch her up when she finished the battle.
But instead of the startling scream of awakening that he’d grown accustomed to before she’d left, she awoke slowly, barely blinking her eyes open before shutting them tightly as she began to shake. A few seconds later, Spike recognized the shaking as it became accompanied by the wetness of her tears. He did the only thing he knew to do. He pulled her closer and held her tightly as she finally turned loose all the things she’d been holding onto.
Tbc…
Twenty - But Now You Never Show It To Me, Do You? by Irishrose
Spike fished the cell phone from his pocket as quickly as possible, hoping that the blanket had insulated the ringing enough so that it hadn’t woken Buffy. “Give me a mo’,” Spike whispered into the gadget before extricating himself from the bed and slipping out the door. “Hello?”
“Oh my god!” Dawn’s excited squeal echoed through the phone and reverberated in his head several times.
“Christ, Bit, could you tone it down a couple dozen decibels?” Spike moaned.
“Oh my god,ohmygod,ohmygod! So who is she? What’s she look like? You better have one hell of a story Spike, or you are *such* a dead man!” Dawn eagerly rambled.
“Dawn, we are not now, nor will we *ever* have this discussion!”
“Awww, come on Spike,” Dawn pleaded. “I’m gonna learn everything anyway, so you might as well just tell me now.”
“Not as long as I’m still breathing,” Spike shuddered as he realized that very soon, either he or his father was going to have no choice but to talk to Dawn about just that subject.
“Pppfffttt, whatever. I bet I know almost as much as you do, anyway,” Dawn insisted in that haughty little tone she was getting so good at, causing yet another shudder from Spike.
“If you did, there would be a lot more missing people in Sunnydale these days. Trust me on this one, Bit… that kind of knowledge isn’t the kind you want just yet. Now, to what do I owe this displeasure?”
“Well, I was wondering if you were planning on making it home sometime today. I was supposed to go to the mall with Cindy an hour ago and your dad has a meeting in 45 minutes,” Dawn informed him.
Damn. No what was he going to do? He wasn’t comfortable leaving Buffy alone. Her emotional state was too fluctuant and fragile from everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. He would either have to take Buffy home, or bring Michael here. But, Dawn couldn’t drive, and if his father brought Michael, then he’d find out about Buffy. That only left Xander or Willow, since raising Michael thus far had put a serious dent in his friends list. But, was Buffy ready to see either of them?
“Listen Dawn, give me 5 minutes and I’ll call you right back,” Spike said, and then hung up without waiting for a response. He made a quick call to Willow, and begged her to do him a quick, no questions asked, favor and bring Michael to him. He then called Dawn and told her Willow would be there soon to pick up Michael, and to have everything ready that he would need for at least today and tomorrow. With a heavy sigh at what the next 48 hours would likely entail, Spike went back inside and tried to figure out how to warn Buffy about her impending ill-timed reunion with her son.
He was still pondering his dilemma when the knock came 10 minutes later. Spike opened the door, fully expecting to see the petite redhead with Michael in her arms. And apparently Tara hadn’t expected him to be on the other side of the door either.
“Oh god!” Tara blushed furiously. “I, I’m sorry. I had no idea! I mean, I didn’t know you’d…I mean, I didn’t know Buffy’d… Um, I’ll just come back,” She said, looking down at the pavement next to her, reminding Spike that he was still clad only in his jeans.
“No, no! No need to rush off, this isn’t what it looks like,” Spike stepped outside the room again. “Uh, Tara, right?” He asked, and was treated to a silent nod. “I’m sure Buffy will be happy to see you. Just give me a moment to wake her. She had a rough night.” With another confirmatory nod, he left the still blushing girl standing outside.
After a few moments, the door was opened and Tara stepped into Buffy’s room. She shut the door behind her as Spike sat on the bed next to a mostly dressed Buffy and asked if she wanted him to step outside for a while. Buffy appeared to waffle for a few seconds, before nodding a yes. Spike gave her a quick peck on the cheek and grabbed his cigarettes and lighter before leaving the two women alone.
Fifteen minutes and two cigarettes later, Willow pulled into the motel parking lot next to his car. He could already read the confusion and anger that was starting to spill off of her as she pulled Michael out of the car seat. She silently walked up to him, and stopped about a foot away. She put on her resolve face and quirked an eyebrow that broached no arguments, and simply waited for his explanation.
Spike smiled his most charming smile, hoping it would diffuse some of her anger. Michael seemed inclined to help as he smiled and bounced on Willow’s arm, and with a gleeful call of “Pi!”, the boy reached his arms out to Spike. Willow however, did not hand the boy over. She continued to stand firm and wait for her explanation. Damn, he probably should have at least put a shirt on before walking out of the room.
“You can quit giving me that look and hand him over. This isn’t what it looks like, Red,” Spike informed her, with as much indignation as he could muster. Unfortunately, at just that moment, Tara popped her head out of Buffy’s room.
“Spike, we’re ready for you to come back in,” Tara called out to him.
Spike groaned at Tara’s choice of wording, knowing full well how Willow would interpret the statement.
“WE?! There’s a *we* in there? And you want me to believe that this isn’t what it looks like? And you have the nerve to expect me to leave Michael here while you and your *we*, do…whatever…you’re doing in there?!?” Willow turned on her heel and began to march off. Spike tried fervently to explain, but Willow wasn’t listening to anything he was saying as she tried to buckle a now crying Michael back into his car seat. Her frustrated fumbling was halted by a calm feminine hand placed on her forearm.
Tara gave Willow a shy little smile, before quietly speaking, and Spike could only hope that Willow would at least hear her out. The girl had surprised him when she’d come strolling up and calmly took control of the situation.
“I’m Tara,” She began with due seriousness. “I was just here checking on my friend. Spike kind of rescued her from a bad situation yesterday, and I wanted to make sure she was ok.”
Spike looked on with interest as Willow’s resolve began to melt.
“Besides,” Tara said leaning in and stage whispered, “I have a feeling that I could never compete with Spike’s ego for his attention, although it looks like someone managed to do so at some point,” She smiled at Michael as she let him wrap his fingers around one of her own.
“Oi!” Spike protested, before he caught a quick wink from Tara. Sneaky little thing, she was. And it seemed to be working too, because Willow was now giggling and nodding in agreement.
“So *now* can you hand me Michael, before he busts someone’s ear drums?” Spike asked as he walked up.
“Alright, but I better get a full explanation later, buster!”
“Thanks! I promise, as soon as I can, I’ll give you the whole scoop,” Spike said, and he took Michael and the baby bag that accompanied him, and asked Willow to pop the car seat into his car.
“Spike,” Tara called to him as he neared the door to Buffy’s room. “Just tell Buffy I’ll come back tomorrow, ok?”
“BUFFY?!” Willow screeched. “Buffy’s in there?!?!” She asked as she quickly made her way toward Spike and the door he’d been head towards.
Spike moved faster, and met her half way. “Willow, she’s not ready.” His stony look told Willow that there was no arguing this point.
“But she’s ready for you and Michael?” She argued anyway.
“Willow…” Spike began, only to be greeted with the sight of his father’s car pulling up into the parking lot. “Great!” Spike said, throwing up his free hand. “Why didn’t I just send out a homing beacon? Maybe hire a skywriter. Is Xander behind you? Or maybe Hank?”
“Spike, I think you better explain yourself!” Giles exclaimed as he stepped out of his car. “It’s bad enough you failed to tell us your extended plans for the evening, but then you have Willow bring Michael to this…this…dubious establishment? Is *this* what you’ve been doing instead of looking for Buffy? Have you even been going to class?”
The situation quickly devolved as Willow apprised the elder Giles that Spike had found Buffy and failed to tell any of them. All while a very confused Tara looked on in silence. As the arguments reached the point of explosion, a very loud growling shout suddenly silenced them all.
“Both of you listen to me *very carefully*,” Spike seethed. “Yes, Buffy is here. But the last 24 hours have been packed with truly spectacular, grade A, hell. In fact, she’s already scared the hell out of me once today and I’m damn well terrified of what I’m going to find when I go in there after her hearing this mob. If you lot go storming in there right now, we’ll be damn lucky if all she does is pull another runner. She is not, I repeat, NOT ready for you. I will bring her home if, and when, I think she is ready.”
With that, Spike turned on his heel, and stormed inside the room. He slammed the door behind him and the bolt audibly clicked shut. The stunned onlookers remained stunned for only moments, before deciding to proceed as planned and headed for the door.
“No.” Tara emerged from nowhere and stood between them and the door. “Look, I don’t know who you are, and I’m sure that you have really good intentions, but Buffy really has had a rough time. A lot of things have come up that she needs to deal with. She will come around. But right now, she needs time and I think Spike really is the best one to help her right now. So, you are going to back off and accept this because you want what’s best for her, right?”
The pair looked a little saddened, but grudgingly accepted Tara’s proclamation. She stood firmly ensconced between them and the door, until finally they gave up and Tara watched them walk to their cars. She watched the older gentleman drive off, as the woman moved the baby seat from her car into Spike’s car.
“You’re Willow?” Tara asked, as the woman walked back around her car. The woman nodded. “I’m Tara, Buffy’s friend. I know you don’t know who I am, and I probably just kind of ticked you off, but I don’t suppose I could get a ride from you? The bus that goes by my dorm won’t be here for another 15 minutes.”
Willow looked hedgy for a moment, but then nodded her acceptance. Tara climbed in the little car, and gave Willow directions to the university. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Tara glimpsed back at the little hotel room and sent as much positive energy as she could muster to the three occupants currently inside. She had a feeling that they would need all that they could get.
Twenty One - And Remember When I Moved In You by Irishrose
Chapter 21
“Stupid, sodding…” Spike loosed his tongue as soon as he’d slammed the door, despite having Michael in one arm. “Just pretend you didn’t hear that, ok nip?” Michael looked at him curiously and mimicked the nodding that Spike was doing. “That’s my boy.” Spike beamed, and got a return grin. “Well, let's get you reacquainted with your mum, shall we?” Spike turned from the door, only to find the room devoid of said person.
“Buffy?” Spike called to the emptiness, and was met with only silence. There were no other windows, and he knew she hadn’t gone out the door, which only left the bathroom, and the door was closed. “Bathroom again then. Do me a favor nip and stay in here,” Spike said as he pulled the comforter off the bed, and tossed it on the floor before setting Michael down. He quickly rummaged through the baby bag and pulled out a couple of small toys for him as well. Then closed the space to the bathroom door.
It was only as shut as a door that had been previously kicked in could be. Spike pushed against it, expecting it to easily give, but there seemed to be something holding it closed. “Buffy, it’s just me. Let me in,” Spike ordered, adding a belated “please.” He was met with only silence.
“Buffy, please. Don’t think I can handle a repeat of this morning. Really need you to open the door.”
After a few more seconds and Spike debating if he should kick the door for a second time, the sound of some shuffling and the door creaking slightly open signaled her acquiescence to his request. He slowly stepped into the room, to find Buffy turned away from him, staring out the bathroom window.
“Get out,” she quietly demanded.
“Just let me see that you’re…”
“I want you gone. I trusted you. I thought…” her strained voice trailed off. “Get…out…”
“Buffy, I didn’t intend for Willow to find out it was you, and I sure didn’t plan on dad following her. And either way, it doesn’t matter. They’re gone, and I won’t let them in until you’re ready.”
Buffy lifted a hand up to the window and slid her fingers gingerly across the glass. It seemed like she was seeing something precious on the other side, if only she could just break the barrier between her and the prize on the other side.
Whoa! Break…glass… not a good thing. Spike came up behind Buffy, put his hand gently on her raised arm and slowly slid his hand up until it rested on top of her hand. With a gentle squeeze, he pulled her hand back from the glass. She offered no resistance, but suddenly she spun around and faced him and started beating earnestly on his chest.
“Stupid, useless, bleach brained, jerk,” She sobbed out, punctuating each word with a blow to his chest. “Why.. won’t.. you.. leave?” She stopped hitting, and simply dug her nails into his pectorals, as she hiccupped out, “I’ve tried and pushed and screamed…”
“Ssshhhhh…” Spike folded her into his arms. “Not going anywhere, love. Gonna see this all the way through.”
“What if I don’t want to see this through?”
“Then this’ll take a lot longer than I planned,” Spike countered, earning a small snort that he could almost take for a laugh.
“So what now?”
“Now, we go back out there and…”
“Pi! Pi! Pi!” A babbling interrupted Spike’s reply, as it’s source crawled up to the open bathroom door.
Spike heard Buffy’s sharp intake of breath and felt her body go as rigid as stone. Spike pushed Buffy back far enough to see her response. As her eyes widened, a shaky hand came up to cover her mouth. He steadied her for a moment, then turned and swept up Michael into his arms, and turned back around to face Buffy.
“Michael, do Uncle Spike a favor and say hello to your mum,” Spike glanced between the child and Buffy. Michael seemed to ignore him and banged on Spike with the toy in his hand. “Hey, now, none of that. Michael,” Spike chucked the little boy under his chin, “mum.” Spike pointed toward Buffy, who still stood stunned.
Michael looked at Buffy a few seconds, then pointed at her with his toy and proudly proclaimed, “Mum, mum!” Then he returned his attention to his toy.
Spike held his breath and waited. The next step was Buffy’s to take.
“He…he knows who…” She left the question unfinished.
“Who you are? Sure, why not? The nip here knows his mum, his dad,” Spike was interrupted with a chorus of “da,da,da,da,” from Michael. “Though he uses ‘da’ for your sis too,” He finished. “Had lots of pictures around. Knew one day you’d be back. Felt it was only right that he knew.”
“What does he call you?” Buffy softly asked.
Spike gave her a half smirk, before he turned a comically serious face to the boy. “Who’s the most handsome, smartest, coolest guy in the world?”
“Pi, pi!” Michael replied automatically.
“You brainwashed my son to call you Popeye?” Buffy asked, looking very confused.
Spike rolled his eyes. “No! It’s ‘Pi’! He just says it twice, like everything else,” Spike defended before realizing what Buffy had just done. She’d claimed Michael. It was a small step, but a step none-the-less, and it brought a smile to Spike’s face and an idea to his head.
“Did you hear that, Michael? You’re mum’s little man. What say you pop over and say hello to her?” Spike said, as he handed Michael to Buffy. She tried at first to step back from him, but Spike persisted until she had no choice but to take the hanging child. She fumbled a little at first, but then seemed to find her proverbial footing. Michael cocked his head to the side, in a move that he clearly had learned from Spike. After a second he smiled at her, then promptly hit her in the nose with his toy and started rambling off, “mum,mum,mum,mum.”
“Hey, now!” Spike intervened, and took the toy from Michael, as Buffy brought a hand up to her offended nose. “Think your mum’s had more than her share of that. How’s about giving her kisses instead? Kisses?”
At the recognized command, Michael leaned in and planted his little baby sized pucker on Buffy’s cheek, causing her eyes to once again go very wide. Her hand slowly moved from her now forgotten nose, to her freshly ‘kissed’ cheek. Spike watched as she blinked a few times at her son. He could almost see the carefully placed walls starting to crumble.
“You know, it’s usually customary to return a kiss from a handsome fellow,” Spike prodded, and hoped he was right in pushing while the opportunity presented itself.
Buffy looked a little panicked for a moment, but then looked down at Michael’s little head. Ever so slowly she leaned in, and placed a gentle kiss to his little forehead. As she did so, her eyes rolled shut. Spike watched, entranced, as Buffy took a slow, full, breath, filled with the scents of her son. She rolled her cheek to the side and pulled him into a real hug, as small tears began to leak from her eyes.
And in that moment Spike knew… his Buffy was coming back.
Tbc…
Twenty Two- The Holy Dark by Irishrose
Author's Notes:
I would advise rereading the last couple of chapters to refresh yourself. Better yet, start rereading at chapter 10. That's all I'm saying. *eg*
Happily 22 – The Holy Dark
**********
Spike had spent the last several days talking to Buffy and getting her reacquainted with her son. It was definitely a one step forward and two steps back, sort of process. She would start to open up, he would point it out, and she would shut down. It was maddening to try and get her to feel, when she didn’t want to. Or at least, when she didn’t think she wanted to.
More than once they had dissolved into shouting matches. He’d never had to exercise as much restraint over his tempter as he had the past couple of days. Every time he thought he had managed to breach the walls around Buffy’s heart, she would throw the crumbling pieces at him. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
And now it all appeared to be wearing on Michael. Not that he could blame the tyke. Hell, he’d pretty much been uprooted from his routine, taken away from his home, and forced to room in a seedy little hellhole with a couple of people who were alternately hugging and shouting.
“Why won’t he stop crying?” Buffy shouted in frustration, as Spike continued to bounce the very unhappy child.
Spike’s hand absently rubbed his head, as he tended to do when things were getting out of hand and he couldn’t lash out. As much as he didn’t want to rush Buffy, he really needed to get Michael back to the house.
“He needs to go home, Buffy. We all do.”
That did it. He could see her gearing up to explode.
“We talked about this! I am *not* going back to the house!”
“You can’t have it both ways, Buffy. You won’t go to the house, and Michael can’t stay here, so what the hell am I supposed to do?
“What about Giles? Or Dawn?” Buffy fished for reasons to get Spike to stay.
“What about me?” Spike argued. “Or for that matter, what about you? They aren’t his mother, you are!”
“I can’t be his mother,” Buffy whispered, looking down at the carpet.
“Oh bloody hell, we are *not* going back to this again,” Spike insisted, as he set Michael down on the blanket.
“I didn’t ask to be a mother, Spike! I didn’t ask for any of this!”
“And I did?” Spike shouted. “If memory serves, I didn’t have much choice in the matter! But I gave up most of my life to take care of the one you left behind!”
“I never had a life!” Buffy vehemently protested. “I’m eighteen, Spike, and I never had a life. Never had a childhood. All I ever wanted was to be a normal girl, in a normal family. To be the person I was before everything was ripped away from me.”
“You *can* be, Buffy. Come home…for Michael.”
“Spike, I’m…I’m not good for him.”
“Says who?” Spike demanded.
“Everything I’ve ever read,” Buffy looked up, her eyes begging him to finally see her point. “I’m too young. I’m a walking disaster. I can’t remember what it’s like to have a non-dysfunctional family. I’m a mental basket case. I’m nothing more than a broken little girl trying to push through what’s left of her life. Why can’t you see that?”
“Because that isn’t what you are,” Spike tenderly answered as he walked up to Buffy and took her face between his hands and looked into her eyes. “You are not broken. You’re just a bit lost, and I’m doing my best to help you find your way.”
Buffy’s face clearly displayed her doubt, as Spike tried to will her to clear a path through the fog she’d enshrouded herself in.
“Buffy, please come home with me?”
Buffy’s breathing sped up a little, and Spike could see her wavering.
“If I say no?” Buffy quietly asked, drawing a deep sigh from him.
“Then we’re at an impasse.”
“If I go back, everything changes. Between everyone and everything. I was just beginning to think that I like things the way they are now,” Buffy finished rather shyly.
“Buffy, we can’t stay here forever.”
“Then just stay one more night?” Buffy softly pleaded.
Spike leaned his forehead against Buffy’s, feeling his resolve fade. With a final sigh, he nodded his agreement. He would stay tonight.
He knew she would make the same request tomorrow.
After a few moments, Spike broke away and went over and picked up Michael, who had obviously cried himself to sleep during the argument. He carefully changed the tuckered tyke into a sleep shirt, and set him back on the blanket. Having finished the task, he turned back to find Buffy had also changed, and was already crawling into bed.
As he settled himself in bed next to her, Buffy quickly curled herself into his form. Molding her curves to his own, the same way she had done the last several nights. As if nothing had ever been amiss. As if the entire world consisted of nothing more than this tiny little bed.
But it did. In fact, a big part of his world now consisted of the little boy sleeping not too far away. As he watched Michael stir slightly on his makeshift bed, he felt his heart warring with his mind. He had more than just Buffy to think about. He had to do what was best for both Michael and Buffy.
He’d brought her past the immediate crisis, now it was time for her to move on. As long as he stayed here and gave in to her, Buffy would never confront the world she feared. She had to take the next step, and for her to do that… he couldn’t be here.
**********
Buffy walked into the library, dismay turning into surprise and even a little happiness, as she heard Giles talking to Angel. She hadn’t seen Angel in what seemed like forever. It faded all too soon as she caught the end of their grave discussion. She could only stand in stunned shock as she heard Giles pronounce her fate to die at the hands of The Master.
As she considered her fate, an edge of hysteria took over and she found herself unexpectedly laughing, drawing shared looks of concern from Giles and Angel as they followed her out into the main art of the library.
“So that’s it, huh? I remember the drill. One slayer dies, the next one’s called,” Her voice tinted with false cheeriness. “Wonder who she is? Will you train her?” She questioned Giles. “Or will they send someone else?”
“Buffy, I…”
“Does it say how he’s going to kill me?” She hesitantly asked. “Do you think it’ll hurt?”
Angel tried to pull her into his arms, but Buffy quickly backed away, yelling at him not to touch her.
After a moment of composure, she turned back around to face the two men, now finding Giles and Spike staring back at her as her mind continued spilling over with questions. “Were you even going to tell me?”
“I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to…that there was…some way around it,” Giles explained.
“I’ve got a way around it,” Buffy nodded. “I quit!”
“It’s not that simple,” Spike softly chided her.
“I’m making it that simple!” Buffy shouted. “I quit. I resign. I’m fired. You can find someone else to stop The Master from taking over.”
“I’m not sure that anyone else can,” Giles reposted. “All the signs indicate…”
“The signs?” Buffy repeated, incredulous. Consumed with momentary rage, she began picking up scattered books and throwing them at him as she screamed out, “Read me the signs! Tell me my fortune! You’re so useful sitting here with all of your books. You’re *really* a lot of help.”
“No, I don’t suppose I am.”
“I know this is hard…” Spike butt in.
“What do you know about this? You’re never going to die!”
“You think I want anything to happen to you?” Spike bit out his retort. “You think I could stand it? We just gotta figure out a way…”
“I already did,” Buffy insisted. “I quit, remember? Pay attention!”
“Buffy, if The Master rises…” Giles began.
“I don’t care!” Buffy cried, as she ripped over the silver cross necklace that hung around her neck. “I don’t care,” She said a little more calmly as she looked up at her watcher, trying to explain to him what she was feeling. “Giles, I’m eighteen years old. I…I don’t want to die…”
**********
As Buffy emerged from the dream, she was filled with confusion. Usually by now, Spike would have her firmly encased in his comforting arms, shushing her cries, and pushing away her fears. But not this time. She couldn’t even feel him in the bed, so she sat up and searched the room for him. She found him standing next to the small dresser.
He was packing.
“You’re really leaving?” Buffy asked, a tremor entering her voice.
“Told you, Michael needs his home,” He answered, head bowed to his task.
“But, you promised you’d stay…”
“Promised I’d see this through, and I will. I’ll always be here when you need me,” Spike answered, his determined look firmly in place.
“I need you now!” Buffy pleaded, her panic clearly showing. Her only answer was a defeated sigh from him as he continued packing.
“Why?” Buffy begged. “Why now?”
“You,” Spike answered with a sad smile, as he looked up at her. “You need to suss out for yourself what it is you really want. Need to be the one to take the next step in your own life. Me being here now isn’t helping that,” He finished as he tossed the bags over his shoulder. Buffy watched in silence, as Spike bent over the bed and gently picked up the sleeping baby and headed for the door.
“Wait…please…” Buffy desperately called out to Spike as he reached for the doorknob. But he paused for only a moment, before he opened the door. As her heart sank in her stomach, Buffy realized that he wasn’t going to stop this time. Anger and panic took hold of her, and she desperately searched her brain for something to say, something that would hurt him as much as he was hurting her.
“If I do?” Buffy asked hesitantly. “Decide that I can be the mother he deserves?” He paused in the door, and looked back at her, his face shining with hope. And there it was, the reaction she needed. He’d just given her complete control of the situation with that look, and she was going to milk it as much as she dared. “What if I want him back?” Buffy finished in a pointedly cool tone.
Spike took a long hard look at the child sleeping soundly in his arms. Buffy could almost feel the pain radiating from him at her insinuation. After several moments, he breathed out a resigned sigh, then turned and walked out the door, his final words ringing in her ears.
“He’ll be right where you left him.”
**********
She spent the day trying to erase his arguments from her mind. Trying to convince herself that the path she’d chosen was the right one. She was too young and too damaged to be the mother that Michael deserved; to be the person Spike thought she could be.
She’d considered all the things they’d talked about, and she found herself to be more confused now than before. She wanted to be the woman Spike believed she was. But she didn’t see how she could ever become that person. She wanted to start life over, forget everything that had ever happened up until today. But she still wanted to keep some of the memories and feelings with her.
They hadn’t all been bad. Painful maybe, but not really bad. Some were even good, but they had been few, and often too far between. Could she really make a life from the meager scattering of happy memories? Could she make herself the person she wanted to be? Take the love that had once been given to her and return it, without destroying everything and everyone in the process?
That troubling question was the last conscious thought running through her mind as she drifted off into a fitful sleep.
**********
“Buffy!” Joyce alarmed voice broke through the pensive cocoon that Buffy had enveloped herself in as she studied the girl in the beautiful prom dress, staring back at her from the mirror. The normal girl who had a life to look forward to.
“There’s something on the news…Willow!” Her mother urged her.
Of course she’d immediately gone to see her closest friend.
“I’ve seen so much,” Willow said. Still in obvious shock at what she’d witnessed, as she sat upright on her bed, hugging her knees to herself. “I thought I could take anything. But Buffy, this…this was different.”
“It’ll be alright,” The slayer assured Willow.
“I’m trying to think how to say it,” Willow replied, confusion coloring her words, “To explain it so you’ll understand.”
“It doesn’t matter as long as you’re ok,” Buffy insisted.
“I’m not ok,” Willow sadly shook her head. “I knew those guys. I go to that room every day. And when I walked in there…it…it wasn’t our world anymore. They made it theirs, and they had fun,” Her face scrunched in angered disgust. “What’re we gonna do?”
“What we have to,” Buffy told her, a resigned resolve sliding into place as she made her decision. “Promise me you’ll stay in tonight, ok?” It was more command than question.
“Buffy?” Willow called after her.
She turned back from the door, a little surprised as she saw a smile start across Willow’s face.
“I like your dress,” Willow finished.
Buffy had almost forgotten it. The semblance of normality she’d been relishing only a short while ago. She smiled at the complement. “Take care,” was the last thing she said before leaving her friend for the last time and headed straight for the library to weapon up. She knew what she had to do. She wasn’t a normal girl. She was here to make sure that those like Willow had their normal world. To protect them and the one’s she loved.
She was the slayer…the chosen one.
**********
“That was incredibly stupid,” Giles stated the obvious. “Now, in addition to having my anger and Buffy's threat to deal with, you have a plaster wall to repair, and quite possibly a broken hand. Honestly, I’d have thought you would have learned to deal with your frustrations in a more constructive way by now,” He said as he removed the ice pack to inspect Spike’s bruised and bloody knuckles.
“And I’d have thought you’d have learned by now that I…know……”
“Hmm? What is it that you think you know?” Giles asked, looking up at his son’s face, and then turning to see what had drawn Spikes stunned attention.
“Buffy?”
“Hi guys. I’m home.”
Twenty-Three - And Every Breath We Drew Was Hallelujah by Irishrose
Chapter 23
“Buffy?” Giles immediately rushed to embrace her, but she quickly held a hand up and flinched a step back. The dramatic reaction froze him in place, but he couldn't contain his relief at finally seeing her. "Buffy?"
"Just…just give me a little bit. Please?" She asked.
"Of course, Buffy, of course. I'm just so relieved to see you," He finished with a smile. “Judging from Spike’s outburst when he returned this evening, I had feared we might never see you again!”
“Well, Spike said something that got my attention.” Buffy looked squarely into Spike’s eyes.
Spike racked his brain. Hell, he’d said a lot of things. The last of which was….
“No.” Spike’s jaw ticked as his face lit up with anger.
His simple statement was parroted by both Buffy and Giles, who were both seemingly confused by his response.
“No. You can’t have him.”
“I can’t….” Buffy fished for a moment before she appeared to realize what he meant, and her expression turned to steel. “What do you mean I can’t?”
“Know why you’re here Buffy. You think I’m going to let you tear his world apart to spite me, you've got another think coming.”
“Spike, let’s just calm…” Giles interposed.
“You can’t stop me!” Buffy asserted.
“Buffy, please, let’s all…”
“Try me.” Spike was now nose to nose with Buffy.
“If everyone will just shut up for one moment…”
“He’s my son and you can’t keep him from me!” Buffy’s voice dripped with venom as she returned Spike’s daggered stare.
“He’s my son too!”
“He’s NOT your son!”
“He IS my son!”
“HE’S ANGEL’S SON!”
“ANGEL MADE HIM MINE!”
“Oh dear…”
Buffy blinked, stumbling back a step or two. After a second, Spike’s brain finally processed the Pandora’s Box he’d unwittingly opened.
“Bloody, buggering, fuck…” Spike breathed out, his eyes opening wide in shocked realization.
For several interminable seconds, no one spoke.
“What?” Buffy’s question was followed by silence. “What do you mean, ‘Angel made him yours?”
More silence.
Spike stared at the floor, never looking up at her. No answer seemed forthcoming. Giles was staring at the ceiling, as if reading something written there.
“What…do…you…mean?” Buffy ground out each word as she menacingly imposed herself in Spike’s personal space.
“He means just what he said,” Dawn broke the silence from her position halfway up the stairs. She now had the undivided attention of all three adults in the foyer.
“Dawn, perhaps it's best if…” Giles began.
“Yeah, cause that’s working out really great.” Dawn’s eye roll punctuated the mock assertion.
“Best if what? Why won’t anyone tell me what the hell Spike is talking about?”
“Because they never planned to,” Dawn replied. At the apparent shock sent her direction from Giles and Spike, she quickly added, “Hello! Teenager. You don’t want me knowing something; don’t write it down in your diary.”
“It’s a Journal, not a diary.” Spike indignantly answered.
“Whatever.”
“What? Look, if someone doesn’t start speaking English…”
“That would be me. Because apparently I’m the only one here who can act like an adult.” Dawn asserted. “Angel gave Spike the twins. I believe the words were, ‘They’re yours now. Take care of them.’, though I’m pretty sure that included you as well.”
“I…I don’t understand. How? Angel was… was killed instantly. That’s what everyone said. He couldn’t have…he couldn’t have told Spike that.”
Buffy was obviously becoming confused and panicked. Apparently this was not quite the homecoming she’d been expecting.
“Buffy, perhaps we should all sit down a moment.” Giles suggested as she visibly wavered and began shaking. She looked to be a moment away from collapse.
“Giles, what does she mean? Angel died instantly, you said so!”
“I will tell you everything, just please, come sit down.” Giles pleaded.
“Spike?” Buffy’s eyes spoke volumes to everyone in the room. They visibly pleaded with him to confirm the story. Make everything clear. Put everything back into the perspective it had been when she first walked back in the door.
“I’m sorry,” His only urgent reply to her pleading, searching, stare. “God, what have we done?” He asked no one in particular, his hands fisting through his hair. “What have we done?”
**********
Buffy numbly made her way to the couch. It’s warm familiarity welcoming her. For a moment, she could forget the world and drown in the memories of this couch. The games played while sitting there. The arguments that took place by it. The stories shared. The kisses stolen. The hugs given. All held within its deep comforting softness.
“Buffy, what do you remember of that day?” Giles began.
“We’ve been through this before.”
“Yes, but I’m old and I forget, please tell me again.”
Buffy sighed heavily, and pulled on memories she’d tried to forget, and hold onto deeply, at the same time.
“It was foggy. Really foggy. Jenny was complaining she couldn’t see a thing. Traffic was at a standstill. We couldn’t move at all. Angel and I were in the back seat. I was so tired, and Angel suggested that I lie down and take a nap. He said he would wake me up if we started to move. I told him… I told him I was going to forgive Spike. I can’t even remember why I was mad at him, now. But I told Angel that I was going to forgive him. He said that would make him happy. And that’s the last thing I remember. I fell asleep in his lap. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital.”
“You are certain you don’t remember anything else?” Giles prodded.
“No! I don’t remember anything else! Everyone asked me a hundred times then and I'll tell you the same thing now…I don’t remember anything else!”
Giles held his hands up in acquiescence.
“Very well, I just wanted to make sure what you remembered before I tell you the rest of what happened.”
“The rest of what happened?” Buffy echoed haltingly.
“Buffy, you should know that however misguided I might have been, I only meant to shield you from further pain. When you awoke with no memory of what happened, I alone made the decision that you would never know what I’m about to tell you now…”
Twenty Four - Maybe There's A God Above by Irishrose
Chapter 24
Curious. That was the third time his phone had registered his son calling him, however, each time he answered, he was only met with silence. Surely everything had gone well at the appointment today. Yes, Angel was likely just so caught up in the emotion of seeing his children, that he was likely rendered speechless. Then again, if anything of concern had been discovered, that would explain it as well. Perhaps he should call Jenny and check on things. Yes, that would definitely be a good idea.
“She’s not arrived yet, you say? No, no, that’s not necessary. I will try to reach her again later. Thank you.”
Curiouser and Curiouser. Jenny should have been at work by now. Perhaps they’d been delayed at the office. Yes, he’d check the physician’s office and see if they’d been delayed there.
“Never arrived? Really? Caught in traffic? But that was… What accident? No, I’ve not been listening to the news. Dear lord, do you think… Yes, I’m sure they are fine. Thank you for the information.”
Locating the small radio that sat alone and neglected in his office, he switched it on and was immediately met with a news alert.
“Again, authorities are speculating that there are numerous vehicles involved in the interstate pileup, and that they are having a lot of problems just getting to the area due to the low visibility conditions. Police are urging everyone to please remain where they are and to avoid driving at all until visibility improves. They are saying that at this time they don’t have any names or descriptions yet, so please keep the telephone lines to the police station clear, so that anyone needing police or medical assistance can get through to them. We will keep you posted as more information becomes available.”
Quick calls to the high school and the house proved equally disturbing. Buffy had not yet arrived at school and no one was answering at the house.
There it was again. Angel’s phone number. He quickly answered the phone, only to be met with silence.
“Angel? Son? Are you there? Hello? Are you injured? Is anyone hurt? Hello?”
Just as he was about to hang up, he heard it. A faint whispering, as if from a very great distance.
“Help…”
“Angel! I’m here! It’s difficult to hear you. Can you tell me where you are?”
“Highway. Pinned. Can’t….can’t see… mom… Buffy… hurt, won’t … wake up. “
“Are you alright? Can you see anything to tell us where you are?”
“Can’t….see. I’m not…help Buff…..”
“Angel?”
“Angel, are you there?!”
Blast! Now what was he to do? Ring the station and tell them his wife, son, and daughter were all injured and trapped somewhere on the highway? Well, it would at least let them know to look for them.
“Yes, that is what I said. Blue, correct. Yes, he said they were injured. Pinned. Thank you, I’ll try to do that.” Bloody pillock. He was actually supposed to sit on his arse and not worry about them? He had half a mind to try and locate his few contacts with the police, but then again, if they were already tied up trying to help, he might be interfering with someone helping his family. Blast!
He was pulled from his thoughts by his phone ringing. This time the school.
“Rupert Giles. William? Fine, Spike, what… Yes, I just recently heard about it, how did you hear…ah, of course. Well, I can’t tell you much, just… You do?”
William had a feeling. Jenny may not have been his mother, but he’d certainly acquired some of her otherworldly gifts. And when William or Jenny had a feeling…
“I’ll be there momentarily to pick you up. No, I don’t want you driving in this. I realize it is starting to lift, but I fear time and space are of the essence here.”
Not even bothering to explain to his secretary his sudden and urgent need to leave, he simply grabbed his keys and ran down the hallway and to his car.
The fog seemed to sense his urgency as well, and was rapidly clearing and thus enabling him to accelerate as fast as he felt he could prudently do so. William had a feeling. A bad feeling. Couldn’t say what. Wouldn’t say what.
As soon as he arrived at the school, William came running down the front walk. The young man silently slid into the front seat, his brow furrowed. He said only one word.
“Hurry.”
They drove in silence. The police had closed all access to the highway and were waving vehicles away. Ominous clouds of smoke guided them toward the worst areas. From nearby roads, they could see what appeared to be a solid mile of twisted and mangled vehicles. Some unidentifiable as to if they had been car or truck, or even what color they might have been. And somewhere in there, his family was waiting for help.
“We’ve got to get up there.” His son stared at the melee ahead of them. His expression one of simple, unwavering, certainty.
“I doubt they’re going to let us walk up and…”
“Too busy worryin’ about the injured to notice two newcomers,” William muttered as he stepped out of the car and walked toward the highway. He really had to give it to him, when William had a purpose, there was no stopping him.
It only took him a second to catch up to his son. “Behave as if we belong here.”
“We do.”
As predicted, police and medical personnel were all very busily trying to shuffle injured and dazed people off in one direction or another. Most of the people appeared to have only minor injuries. Many of them were sporting cuts, bruises, and bandages to their head or legs. More than one official tried to direct them to the nearest medical team to be cleared. They walked for what seemed like hours, passing a couple of horrible scenes where cars almost seemed to be fused, and medical staff were all trying their best to save a life. But still no sign of Jenny’s car.
“Maybe they were able to leave?”
“No. They’re here. I can feel it.”
“Really, William, this is no time for your bloody…” But he seemed to be entranced on one particular group of cars that was surrounded by uniformed officials. The vehicles were so enmeshed it was difficult to tell what two of them even were. And one seemed to be quite firmly contained underneath a large commercial truck.
William began walking slowly toward the twisted wreckage.
“Rupert?”
He searched for the source of his name, finally spotting Jerry, one of his contacts from the police department who had been very instrumental in helping them with both Hank and Warren Mears.
“Rupert, were you in this mess?”
“Actually, um, yes, we were following the children to an appointment when all this, um, happened.”
“Everyone ok?”
“Well, I can’t really say. I haven’t been able to locate Jenny. Angel and Buffy were with her. Have you seen them?”
“Can’t say I have. What kind of car’s she driving?”
“Oh, God!” William’s voice cut clearly through to him.
“William?”
“That’s her car.” He shouted back as he sprinted toward the twisted hulking debris.
He tried to follow, but was quickly grabbed by the shoulders by Jerry.
“Your family was in a blue sedan?”
“Yes,” he tried to step around the man.
“Rupert, you don’t want to go over there.”
“If my family is there, that is exactly where I want to be.”
“Giles! Listen to me…”
He threw the man off and half ran to stand next to his son. There were people everywhere. There were some trying to cut the vehicles apart with large machines. Others appeared to be half inside two of the vehicles, checking on people trapped in them. It was organized chaos.
“Are you sure that’s your wife’s car?” Jerry asked from behind him.
He wanted to tell him it wasn’t. That the torn and crushed blue metal was not Jenny’s car. That would mean that they were not inside that nightmarish spectacle. But he couldn’t.
“Yes.”
“Maybe you should sit down somewhere.”
“Are they alive?” He had to know. Surely they must be or they wouldn’t be working so desperately to get to them.
“Look, I can’t really tell you anything at this point.”
“ARE THEY ALIVE?” He shouted.
“Two of them, yes. For now.”
He felt his gut tighten in revolt. Two of them? One of them was dead? Who? Who was alive? Who was left? He looked in question at the man, but couldn’t form words. He couldn’t get his mouth to move over the dryness that consumed it.
“There are two people in the back seat who are still alive. But both are bad. They both have major head injuries. We can’t even get to the woman to see the complete extent of her injuries. Hell, we didn't even know she was in there until we heard her making noises. At least now we can see her head and shoulders. They’re both pinned in pretty well. Mike tells me that the guy is in and out, but they’re afraid to cut anymore.”
“What do you mean they’re afraid?”
“He’s crushed Rupert. Bleeding inside. We're trying to get a special suit here in time, but…time's running out and they’re telling me that if they cut anymore away from him, he’ll bleed out. And the way they're in there, we can't get to her until we get him out.”
He dropped to the pavement. This can’t be happening. Why was this happening? Hadn’t they endured enough? He’d lost one already, and may still lose them all. This can’t be happening.
“I’m sorry.”
“You said he’s in and out?” William spoke up.
“Yeah, he’s talking some. Keeps telling us to help 'her'. Is it Buffy that was with them?”
William nodded. “How is she?”
“Can’t say, can barely see her.”
“Can we talk to him?”
“I don’t think that would be…”
“Jerry...” He was standing again. “My son is dying.” He looked the man in the eyes. If what he was saying was true, he shouldn’t need to say anymore.
The man nodded. “Give me a second, ok?”
Jerry jogged over to the chaos of people. He could see him gesturing in their direction. And then they all turned and looked at him and William. Their faces all read of grim resolution. They seemed to confer for a moment, before nodding in agreement. Jerry jogged back over to him.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
He didn’t even dignify that with a verbal response.
“Ok. But it’s…”
“I understand.”
The man nodded. Then lead them to the car.
He was utterly unprepared for what he saw. And what he couldn’t see. Everything was out of place. The car was barely recognizable. They had cut pieces away to make more room and to try and rescue everyone. And there, amongst it all, sat Angel. His head leaning against the blood covered seat. His face so badly bruised and swollen, it hardly even looked like him. The medical personnel had inserted IV’s and a young man stood next to the car, squeezing a bag of fluid into the tube.
“Angel? Son?”
His eyes opened. As much as they could. His face was so swollen. Blood seemed to be coming from everywhere.
“Buffy…”
“She’ll be fine.” He prayed.
“I won't.”
“You will. They are going to take both of you to the hospital in a moment.”
“Liar.”
“Son…”
“Heard them… talking. Know… what’s… happening.”
“Listen to me, you ponce!” William stepped up. “Don’t you fucking give up! They’ll figure a way out and you better be alive when they do!”
“Shut up… Spike.” Angel groaned.
“Make me!”
“They’re… yours, now…….Take care… of them.”
“No! Don’t you put that on me! You bloody well better live through this!"
"One… good… day…"
"Don’t do this, you bloody berk!”
“She knows… Spike... She…knows.”
“Angel, you should save your…” Giles voice shook with emotion.
“Thank you.” Angel’s look told him everything. Years of life and words passed through that wordless communication. Everything he’d ever longed to hear. Everything he didn’t want to hear until he was an old man. Then Angel broke off and looked at William again.
“Swear…”
An equally silent, yet enormous, communication went between his two sons. Until finally William nodded.
"Ang… Angel," Buffy's barely audible voice came from somewhere in the wreckage, followed by a low moan and then a slightly louder one. "Ang…"
"Yours… swear?" Angel's voice was getting weaker.
“Till the end of the world.”
Angel smiled as much as he could, and then his body relaxed and his expression faded to nothing.
His son was gone.
He was roughly grabbed and pulled back as emergency personnel crowded back in and shouted orders at each other. It felt like both seconds and hours until someone finally said to move in. The machines started back up again, and metal screamed as it was ripped apart. Finally, he watched as they carefully moved Angel out of the wreckage.
"Watch her head, looks like his legs are supporting it," One of the fireman said, as his friend Jerry returned to stand next to him.
"They'll take them both to the hospital once they get her out of there," Jerry informed him. A cry from Buffy interrupted the moment as the workers appeared to ease her head down, and it brought a critical thought to Giles' head, making him reach out in urgency as Jerry turned to walk away.
"Jerry, Angel and Buffy, they're, uh…" he trailed off. There was no Angel and Buffy anymore. "Buffy… she's carrying twins," he finished.
"She's pregnant? Jesus, man, I… This day just gets better and better. I'll tell them, Rupert, but… their focus right now is just on getting her out of there alive. How far is she?"
"Seven months," William answered, from where he was sitting on the road next to his feet.
"Christ, Rupert, she could… Fuck. I'll be right back," Jerry walked away.
Giles watched as his friend conferred with a couple of the paramedics at the car, at one point he pointed to the sheet covering his son's body, then pointed to him. One of them spared a glance at him for a moment, before nodding his head and shouting some orders he couldn't hear to another paramedic. Metal continued to scream its objections as the machines kept cutting away. It was an interminable process that kept stopping and starting, as more and more of the wreckage was pulled away.
"That's it! She's loose!" Someone finally shouted. Suddenly there was a rush of activity as a dozen people flooded in around the car. William jumped up, but Giles grabbed him tight before he could run over to the wreckage.
"Let them do their job. They can't help her if you're in the middle of it," He held fast, as William struggled to get free. After several seconds, William seemed to relax slightly, but never took his eyes off the scene. Just when Giles thought he could let go of his son, he heard a scream come from the commotion, Buffy's scream. Giles eyes closed in a silent prayer of both thanks that she was alive and a plea that she stayed that way, as William renewed his struggle to free himself of his grip and rush over to Buffy.
"Let me go!" William screamed at him. "I have to… I need to… She needs…"
"William," Giles was trying hard to hold onto his son, but William was no longer a child, and his mental and emotional states were lending him enough strength, that he wasn't sure he could hold him much longer. Thankfully, the paramedics were wasting no time in trying to load Buffy into the ambulance while they worked on her, all the while his son continued to scream and curse at him to let him go to her. "William! William!" He started shouting himself, as his son's struggles began to overpower him.
"SPIKE!" He let go of his arms, and took his son's head in his hands in his tightest grip, forcing his son to look at him. "SPIKE!" He repeated, and shook William's head, hoping to get through to him. It seemed to work, as it drew his son's gaze back to him finally. "You can't save her this time!"
He watched as William's eyes darted to the ambulance as its door slammed shut, and the siren began to sound. He shook William's head again, gentler this time. "She's alive, Spike. She's alive." He looked deeply into his son's eyes, seeing the fear and desperation shining back at him. He pulled his head into his shoulder and hugged him tight. "She's alive."
He held his son firm, as he felt the emotions wrack William's body as he allowed himself to take comfort in his arms. He would allow himself time later, but right now they needed him. He knew what his son was feeling. He had felt it before, and would feel it again, and he would very nearly give his life to have had his own father's strong arms there. He could do this for them.
Finally, after several moments, he heard someone clear their throat, and looked to see that Jerry was standing next to them. He raised a brow in unspoken question.
"Thought you'd want to know, she's alive. She's pretty critical, head trauma, looks like a few broken bones, hard to tell how much internal damage, but they think she has a chance. They're taking them to Memorial," Jerry finished.
"Thank you, Jerry. We'll leave directly."
"One more thing, they ah… they think the babies are alive. Thought you'd like to know," He clapped a hand onto Giles' shoulder. "I'll have Bob drive you to the hospital, you shouldn't be driving right now." Jerry squeezed his shoulder, then turned to walk away.
"Jerry?" Giles called.
"Yeah?"
"My…" His breath caught before he could get the word out. "My wife?" His voice broke.
"Once the crews free those who are… alive… I'll make sure we get her out of there. I'm truly sorry, Rupert."
He screwed his eyes shut for a moment, as he heard his friend call to his coworker, Bob, and gave him instructions to take them to Memorial.
"You ready, sir?" Bob asked as he approached them.
He opened his eyes and took in the sight of the wreckage one last time. Noticing that William had lifted his head and was doing the same. Leaving would make it final, make it real. He wasn't ready for that yet.
"Yes, I believe we are," He lied, turning himself and his son away and pushing them forward one step at a time.
Twenty Five - And All I Ever Learned From Love by Irishrose
Buffy sat there stunned, letting Giles' words wash over her. As painful as it had been, everything she had known about Angel's death had been a lie. A beautiful lie Giles had designed to protect her from the truth. Had he thought her that weak? That fragile?
And Spike had never told her the truth.
"Buffy?" Giles prompted. "I know this is quite a lot to take in, but…"
"You lied," Buffy softly spoke. "You lied to me?"
"I had hoped to spare you of the pain of knowing what Angel went through."
"You think me so weak? That I couldn't handle that he wasn't instantly killed. That even though he was in agony, his only thought was for me? That the love of my life spent his dying breath giving us away?" Her face crumbled as she spoke.
"Weak?" Giles seemed aghast at the thought. "Buffy, your strength has only been remarkable. You've had so much pain in you young life, I simply sought to spare you what little I could."
"Good job, thanks for that." Buffy growled out. "God, I trusted you! All of you! And you all lied to me. You didn't trust me to deal with anything on my own!" She was not near the point of shouting.
"Yeah, cause you've done a bang up job of it, haven't you?" Spike's anger got the best of him.
"And you! Is that was these last few days have been about? The fact that you think you own me? Or was it just obligation? Is that what I am? An obligation? All that talk about promises should have clued me in, huh? Oh wait, I didn't know anything about that, did I. Because no one told me!"
"I wanted to!" He shouted back, before turning to Giles. "Told you a hundred times, it wasn’t right not telling her. She deserved to know. No, that'd be selfish you said."
"It was! You know damn well you had no altruistic motive to telling her, it was all about you, William."
"Did it ever occur to you that I needed to tell her just as much as she needed to know?"
"That's exactly what I'm talking about! It would have torn you both apart."
"Everyone, shut up!" Buffy shouted.
"Me too?" Dawn's voice cut through the sudden silence.
"Dawnie…"
"It's Dawn," she bit out. "Not that you ever saw me as anything more than a baby you had to take care of. You want to talk about obligation? At least Spike took care of his obligation. What's your excuse?"
"Dawn, I can't take care of anyone. I can't even take care of myself. But these people can. They can take care of you, and love you, and you can have everything that I will never, ever, get to have."
"And what about my sister. My real family. Do I get to have that, too?"
"Dawn, all I can do is give you pain and loss and grief. Everything I touch falls apart into spectacular hellish crap. There is nothing good I can give you. But here, you can live. Really live. For me."
"Dramatic much?" Dawn snorted.
"What?!" Buffy asked, incredulous.
"You really do think the world evolves around you…" Dawn crossed her arms and stared at Buffy.
"Revolves…" Giles corrected automatically.
"Whatever!" Dawn stomped her foot. "You think you're the only one that has lost someone? What about Giles? He lost his wife… again! And his son, and Gabriel. We all did. But the rest of us also lost a sister, a daughter, and the girl that poetry boy over there thinks is the reason for his entire existence."
"Oi!"
"Shut up, Spike," Dawn replied, eyes rolling dramatically.
"The point is, we all lost a lot of people. And then we had to deal with losing you too, while we were all trying to put our lives back together."
"It's not the same," Buffy quietly asserted.
"No, it's not. I get that. But do you think that they do? When you won't tell them any of it?"
"And what are they going to do about it Dawn? Pat me on the head? Talk about how poor little Buffy can't handle anything? Send me to therapy? So that what, they can tell me I'm insane and making it all up?"
"Break any glass lately?" Dawn smirked.
"You told her?" Buffy spun to face Spike, she couldn't keep the hurt from her voice. But Spike looked as shocked as she felt.
"Of course I didn't tell her!" He defended.
"Tell her what?" Giles asked, now also looking confused. "What's this about glass?"
"You think I didn't know?" Dawn indignantly replied. "Buffy, I was there too when we were with dad." Then she gave a stoic look of pride to each person. "None of you think I know anything, but it seems to me that I'm the only one who knows everything."
"Dawn…" Giles voice was full of caution.
"Fine, whatever. But know this. All this talking solves nothing. She doesn't understand if it doesn't involve pain. You all keep forgetting that. Even you, Buffy," she finished before she turned and stomped back up the stairs.
Silence followed Dawn's pronouncement. Buffy felt as though she'd been sucker punched.
"She's wrong, pet," Spike softly offered.
"No, she's not," Buffy met his eyes.
"She is!" He insisted. "When you were with Angel, was that pain, or did it make every moment seem like the whole world could just melt away because every single second was the best moment of your life?"
"Stop it," Buffy whispered.
"And Whitebread? Is that about the pain? Or is it about getting rid of the pain the only way you can think of, for just a little bit?"
"Spike, please," Buffy pleaded.
"What about me? Was that about pain? Or was it about feeling something, anything, other than that gaping whole inside, because the pain just makes it bigger?"
"You're right, Spike. It wasn't about pain. But whatever it was, it wasn't about love. Not for me. I told you, I can't love." Her voice held an apology, that her words didn't.
"Bloody hell," Giles breathed out. "William, how could you?"
"It's Spike, for fucks sake! And if memory serves, wasn't me that instigated it." Spike fixed her with an accusing smirk.
"William!" Giles shouted.
"I can't do this…" Buffy turned to go.
"Buffy, stop!" "No, don't!" The two voices occurred simultaneously. But she didn't hear either one. All she felt was a strong determined hand grab her arm. She reacted on instinct, one hand grabbing the wrist and applying pressure and leverage in just the right spot, as the elbow on her now free arm cracked the offender in the face, sending him crashing to the floor. She stepped back, and that was when she saw him. Giles, on the floor holding his nose, as blood seeped between his fingers. Her eyes went wide with shock and despair. This gentle soul had never hurt her. Not really. He had never given her anything but his love and caring. And now… he looked, frightened?
"Oh, god!" Buffy covered her mouth, as tears started spilling forth. What had she done? She started to back away from him.
"Buffy?" Spike was edging closer to her. Soon he would be upon her, and he'd try to tell her it wasn't her fault. But it was. "Buffy, please, god, please, don't run. Not again."
"I can't do this, Spike." It felt like she was falling apart. Torn in so many directions. To many feelings, all at once. It was too much. "It's too much."
"Please, don't leave?" God, she was going to give in if he kept up. She shook her head, because it she said anything…
"Please, Buffy, I don't think I could handle losing you. Not again." Great big tears were now trailing down his face, and it was her undoing.
"I need some time, Spike."
"Time?"
"Everything's changed. I've changed. I… I need time to think, about everything. To find out what it all means. I need time. Can you give me that?"
Spike's eyes were openly pleading, as he locked eyes with her, but he said nothing. She could see his emotions warring within him; doubt, fear, resignation. Finally, he closed his eyes and slowly nodded his head.
She turned and walked to the door. As she stepped outside and closed the door, he softly spoke one last time. He probably didn't think she would hear it, but she did.
"We'll be right here where you left us. Again."
Twenty Six - How To Shoot At Someone Who Out Drew You by Irishrose
Twenty Six – It's Not A Cry You Can Hear At Night
Chapter 26
It had been a couple of weeks since she'd walked out of the house, leaving everything behind once again. She had told Spike that she needed time to figure everything out. In truth, she just wanted time to forget. She couldn't change the past. Although, apparently the past itself could change. What she wanted was time to do what she did best, move past it all and move on. To that purpose, she had thrown herself back into her studies and was set to finish the semester with scores on her finals that were meant to impress.
And then there was him. Riley had approached her the first day she was back at class. It hurt to look at him, with the bandage on his nose and the slight limp as he walked up to her. He'd asked her if she wanted to get coffee later. She couldn't bring herself to say yes. At least not the first six times he'd asked her. But then, she'd decided that moving on meant just that, moving on. But damn if every time she smiled at Riley it didn't make her feel a little bit like she was punching Spike.
For his part, Spike seemed to be giving her time. She hadn't seen him at all since that night, but she had asked around a bit and found that he had returned to school, too. That meant he was avoiding her. Good. She'd half expected him to come pounding down her door the next day, and the next, and the next, telling her more things she didn't want to hear and begging her to come back to the house. To rejoin the life she'd left behind. But he hadn't. It hurt a little, that thought, that he hadn't come beating her door down.
So, here she was having coffee with Riley at the Espresso Pump. Making time. Moving on.
"And then I sprouted big green horns and turned into an alien space cowboy from Mars," Buffy vaguely heard Riley say. She smiled and nodded. Wait…
"What? Mars?" She asked, clearly confused.
"Look Buffy, if you have somewhere else to be that's fine…"
"No!" She cut him off. She really needed to get her head together. "I'm sorry, it's just, you know, finals week brain drain. I'm sorry. Won't happen again. You have my undivided attention."
"Really? Because, I'm thinking your attention is pretty focused on something else. Or maybe someone else?" Riley asked gently.
Buffy allowed her eyes to close for a moment, as she tried to focus and process her thoughts. She'd known he had come by the motel the day she had practically tried to kill him. She had wondered when he would get around to asking about that.
"Buffy?" Riley's warm hand covered hers, offering a sweet and gentle caress and she wanted to do nothing more than melt into his touch and let his big arms just wash everything away. "I think we need to talk."
"I thought we were?" What else could she say? He didn't think she was going to just start explaining her life story here in the café, did he? Not that she would anyway. The past was the past. She had worked really damn hard to put it there and make sure that it stayed there. Right up until she'd maimed Riley and spent the next several days with Spike dredging everything back up.
"Listen, can we go back to my place? I get the sense this isn't the best place for this discussion?" Riley squeezed her hand.
Huh, that was interesting. She need to stop thinking so loud.
"I think that would be a good idea." Ok, she really didn't. There was a good chance he really wanted to talk; which, in point of fact, she did not. But she grabbed her things and walked with him back to the dorm anyway.
"So," Riley started. And apparently finished.
"So," she replied. She wasn't really good at the whole talky thing. And again, past in the past. Not digging up ghosts today. Nope. Not going to do it.
"I'm sorry," Riley finally said. That caused her eyebrows to reach for the sky.
"You're sorry?" Buffy asked, clearly confused.
"For scaring you that day. When you, ah…" He vaguely pointed towards his nose.
"God, no, Riley. I'm the one who should be apologizing." Tears welled up in her eyes, but didn't fall. "I shouldn't have over reacted like that. I could have hurt you more than I did, without even thinking…" She trailed off.
"Buffy, can I ask you something?" Riley hesitantly asked, but his eyes were boring into her.
Panic began to grip her slightly. What was he going to ask? What did he know? Too many variables, too many risks. But, she gave a slight nod.
"What happened?"
Oh, if that question wasn't a loaded gun. A bomb. Make that a nuclear bomb. How the hell did she answer that?
"Um, I smashed your instep, crushed your testicles, and broke your nose?" Buffy asked. Evasion was always a good tactic.
"No," Riley sighed. "I mean, yes, that did happen. Incredibly effective moves, by the way…" he moved to pinch the bridge of his nose, then thought better of it and ran his hand through his hair instead. "Which brings me back to the question. What happened, Buffy?"
She stared at him for long minutes. He stared back. So many thoughts crossed her mind. Would he want to know everything? He was a Psychology TA, of course he would. Why couldn't everyone just leave the past where it was? Finally heaving a big sigh, she answered.
"Does it matter? It's in the past, where I'd like it to stay."
That apparently caught him off guard, as he visibly flinched a little at what she'd said. She wasn't sure what to make of that little tidbit of information. It took him a moment to answer her question.
"I tried to tell myself that it didn't. That one day you would let me see the real you. All of you, and that you'd stop holding back."
"And now?" Buffy asked, more tremble in her voice than she intended.
"Now?" He huffed out an uneasy breath. "I think that maybe whatever it is you think you left in your past, isn't."
"I don't understand…"
"Buffy, whatever it is, you didn't leave it in the past."
"So what, now you're going to psychoanalyze me? Whatever happened to just being my boyfriend?
"Am I?" Riley asked, a slightly jealous edge to his voice.
This! This, she could handle. This, she could work with. Because gods did she need to be out of this conversation right now. Switching gears easily, she put on her best kicked puppy dog look, and moved from her position against the dresser, to put her hands on his chest, as she cut her gaze up through her eyelashes.
"How could you ask me that? I thought that you…." She left the sentence hanging. Let him fill in the blanks. It works better that way.
"Buffy, why was Spike at the motel with you? What is he to you?" Riley gently pushed her back to look her in the eyes as he asked.
"The biggest pain in my ass," Buffy replied with an eye roll that would have impressed Dawn.
"Is that it?" He pushed.
Was that it? Yes? No? Maybe? God, why did they all have to do this? Why did everything have to be so damn hard and complicated. Why can't things ever be simple? She thought that things were starting get that way, and then she had to go and mess everything up when all Riley wanted to do was surprise her on the quad. But no, she had to break his nose, just like she'd probably broken Giles's nose. All because he'd simply grabbed her arm. She had hurt him. Hurt them. Hurt them all. Hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, God it hurt so much. Why did everyone want it to keep hurting? She couldn't stand it. Needed it to stop. Stop hurting, just for a little while.
"I'm here with you, Riley. Right now. Not Spike." She began to caress his cheek, as her other hand slid down his arm to his hand, and pulled it up around to her waist, squeezing her eyes shut as she pulled his head down for a kiss. Riley was hesitant at first, and she thought he might break the kiss and protest that she hadn't really answered his question. But then, she felt him start to give in, as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her in close, and she let herself melt into those arms. Arms that didn't know all her secrets. Arms that couldn't see through her faēade. Arms that didn't try to make her face the demons that haunted her past and her dreams. Arms she could simply lose herself in and be that normal girl from class.
*************************
He'd almost stopped her when she pulled him in. He probably should have. She hadn't really answered the question. But then, she felt so raw and open, and it was all so familiar… letting her fall into his arms and let him take her away from it all, whatever "it all" was, for a little while. He'd known he shouldn't, but something in her seemed to need him. But need wasn't the same as love, was it?
That was another thing. He'd tried saying it, but she'd stopped him. The more he tried, the more frantic she became, until she had almost become like a wild animal trapped under him. She'd flipped them over then and taken control of the whole thing, and after that point any word was cut off with a kiss that could only be called desperate. Her pace became frenzied and feral, and conscious thought wasn't really his strong suit at just that moment. When she'd started pounding on his chest with her fists, not hurting so much as…desperately trying to dig a hole in his chest? That got his attention. When he noticed she was crying, well, that really got his attention.
At first, he didn't know what to think. He'd called her name a couple times, but it was like she wasn't even there. When he finally managed to catch her hands and stop everything, he shook her and said her name a little louder than he probably should have, but shed looked so…lost. When she finally looked at him, actually at him, she'd just collapsed on his chest in a sobbing heap, saying, "sorry" over and over, until she fell asleep.
So he ended up spending the night with his arms full of a sleeping girl. He'd had no idea what to do for her, but he thought he might know someone who did. The problem was, every time he thought about that, he'd wanted to hold her just a little tighter. Spike knew whatever it was that she was holding back. He knew whatever was responsible for whatever it was that happened tonight. It also didn't help that the guy was in love with her. So why the heck was he trying to find the guy? As he spotted said guy in the library, he really wondered if he should have asked himself that question earlier.
He walked up to stand in front of Spike, who was sitting at a desk next to a window in what appeared to be a last minute cram session. However, despite staring at the guy for quite some time, he hadn't even acknowledged him. But, he had time.
"Enjoying the view?" Spike finally said, without even looking up at him.
"Do you always open with a line about homosexuality, or are you trying to tell me something?"
"Don't flatter yourself, cardboard; tall, dark, and boring 's not my type." Spike still hadn't looked up at him.
"I'm guessing more like, small, blond, and enigmatic?" That got a reaction. Spike very carefully put down his pencil and leaned back in his chair, and gave him a carefully guarded look.
"Enigma, eh?" Spike laced his fingers behind his head, and get him a smug look. "Domestic bliss, not so bliss?
He sank down in a chair as he wondered exactly what the heck he should tell this guy. Everything? Nothing?
"She won't let me in," He finally settled on, figuring Spike would know what he meant.
"Did you try dinner and a movie? Little candle light? Maybe some effective foreplay?" Spike smirked.
He gave the guy a withering stare. Spike knew what he meant, and that answer didn't even dignify a response.
"Look, what do you want me to say, here? Already told you it's not my story to tell."
He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. What had he expected him to tell him? Maybe if he knew… Yeah, and what the hell was he going to say? That she'd broken down in the middle of some really hot sex and started half-heartedly hitting him while she was crying her eyes out? Yeah, that would be really tactful.
"Something's wrong." He'd leave it at that and see where it went. It didn't take long for Spike to take the bait, as he sat upright and gave him a hard look.
"Something happen?" Spike asked.
He figured he give him a dose of his own medicine and ignore him a while. Apparently that cool faēade didn't last long when it came to Buffy. But it didn't slip for long, either.
"Kicked your arse again, did she?" Spike leaned back in the chair again.
"No, that I could deal with," he sighed out. "What happened last night, that was…I don't even know what that was."
He noticed Spike's face twitch, and he obviously clenched his teeth, as the muscles of his jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes. After a moment of what appeared to be the guy getting control of himself, his eye's opened again and focused intently on his own.
"I am not your bleedin' Dr. Laura, you bloody berk," Spike slowly spoke every word, and then started to gather the books scattered around on the desk. Definitely a sore spot. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
"You not feeling it in the sack, mate; I suggest you try asking her next time," Spike said, as he roughly shoved his things into a bag.
"Kind of hard to when she turns into a weeping mess before crying herself to sleep and then takes off in the middle of the night, and then avoids me all day." Ok, that was a much as he was giving him.
Apparently, it was enough. Spike froze mid shove for a moment, and then shoved the whole thing away from him, as he roughly sat back in the chair and put his head in his hands. A few moments later, Spike was producing what could best be described as a hysterical giggle. Now, Riley was debating if perhaps this guy was just as traumatized as Buffy. Whatever the hell was going on, it was way bigger than either one let on. And now that weird giggle was sounding suspiciously like a weird sob. Then it abruptly stopped, as the guy leaned back and sucked in a deep breath before blowing it out slowly.
"Tell me how to help her?" Riley asked.
"Can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved."
"Are you always this fatalistic?" He couldn't help asking.
Spike laughed. "Wasn't bein' fatalistic, mate."
"Sure sounded like it."
"More like stupid, blind, idiotic, no-chance-in-hell, perpetual hope." Another sigh. "But, I meant what I said. She doesn't want to be saved. Not now, anyway."
"I don't believe that. But, it would explain why she wouldn't let me say it," He trailed off. "Doesn't explain the whole trying to beat a hole in my chest while she was apologizing the whole time." And now he had Spikes undivided attention again, judging by the curious look he was giving him.
"Bloody hell." It almost sounded like a prayer, and there was that look of hope Spike mentioned. He watched the guy as he seemed to be reliving something in his mind. He silently wondered if he knew he'd let a tear slip. Probably not, or he guessed he'd be furiously making excuses about having something in his eye. Yeah, this guy was just as wounded as Buffy. He just wished he knew what the hell it was so he could help her get around it.
"You know, most people would be, I don't know, shocked or perplexed if I told them that. Kind of like I was when it happened. So, you want to tell me why you look like I just answered a prayer?"
Spike barked out a short harsh laugh. "Everything's like a bloody dance with Buffy. One step forward and twelve steps back. 'Cept I think it's getting closer to one step forward and five steps back if what you said is true."
"So that was a good thing?!" How the hell was that a good thing? "Look, I don't know what this big secret is, but it's pretty obvious that whatever it is damaged the hell out of both of you. Whatever this thing is… Jesus, if I have to say or think that phrase one more time, I'm going to rip my own tongue out. She can't go on like this. No one can. It has to be fixed."
There was that creepy hysterical sort of giggle, sort of sob, again. "Fixed? How do you fix twelve years of living through the nine kinds of hell most people can't even bring themselves to read about? How do you save someone who doesn't think they need, want, or deserve to be saved? How do you move on, when your past is bloody well drowning you?" Spike softly finished.
The Spike got an odd look on his face. To Riley, it looked like Spike suddenly had a very confusing thought. Spike's little rant made way more sense to him than it probably should have, and apparently some part of it hadn't ever occurred to Spike. Sadly, it also told him that no matter how much he was in love with Buffy, he wasn't going to be the one that ended up with her. These two people's worlds were so wrapped up in each other, they practically had their own gravitational field. And just what the hell was he supposed to do now? Help this guy? This guy who somehow held the key to Buffy? To the door he would never be able to open? Maybe he could help him. Some day. But not today.
"I'm sure you'll figure something out," Riley said, as he got up and walked away.
Maybe, he could help Buffy; but he wasn't helping Spike.
Twenty Seven- It's Not A Cry You Can Hear At Night by Irishrose
Twenty Seven - It's Not A Cry You Can Hear At Night
He walked in and demanded that they talk. She'd told him she wasn't ready to talk, but he'd simply said, "Too bad," and then tried to pick a fight with her, right then and there. She'd been goaded into asking what the heck he expected her to say to him, and that nothing he could say would make this whole thing any better, and then she'd tried to walk away. He'd grabbed her arm to stop her from leaving, confessed that he knew all that, but that he just wanted her to hear him out. It had taken almost everything she had not to flatten him right then, but she hadn't; instead, she'd simply told him to take his hand off of her, and stood there waiting for him to explain. Not that it really mattered.
"Buffy, I think, when this thing started, it was just some stupid, immature game. I wanted to even the score after you let Dracula bite you," he started.
"I did not *let* Dracula…" She seethed, only for him to interrupt her.
"I know," He paused a moment. "On some level I know that. But I was still spun! I don't know, I … I wanted to know what you felt. I wanted to know why Dracula and Angel have so much power over you," His face, pleaded with her to understand."
"You so don't get it." She was only getting more exasperated with him.
"I wanted to get it, Buffy. I wanted to get you." He was getting more earnest. She was getting more incredulous.
"So this is my fault? Hey, gee, Buffy's so mysterious, I think I'll go out and almost die. I think I'll go and let some other w..." She couldn't finish that thought.
"This isn't your fault. It's mine. I feel like hell for what I've put you through. It's just... these girls…"
"Vampires. Killers." She corrected him.
"They made me feel something, Buffy. Something I didn't even know I was missing until…"
"I can't. I can't hear this," She said, turning away from him again.
"You *need* to hear this," He grabbed her arm yet again, forcing her to face him.
"Fine. Fine! Tell me about your whores! Tell me what on earth they were giving you that I can't." Incredulous couldn't even cover what she was feeling right then. After a moment he answered.
"They needed me." Boy, that was not what she'd been expecting to hear.
"They needed your money. It wasn't about you." The retort was somewhat satisfying, but not much.
"No. On some basic level it *was* about me. My blood, my body," he sighed. "When they bit me ... it was beyond passion. They wanted to devour me, all of me."
"Why are you telling me this?" It was really more a plea for him to stop, than a request for an explanation.
"It wasn't real. I know, it was just physical. But the fact that I craved it ... that, that I kept going back ... even if it was fleeting, they made me feel like they had such... hunger for me." Now he was pleading.
"And I don't ... make you feel that way?" Realization was beginning to dawn on her. His silence answered the question for him.
"How on earth can you compare me to that?" Now she was getting angry. Very angry. "How can you tell me you understand what those vampires are feeling? You aren't a passion to them, you are a snack! A willing, idiotic snack!"
"No, I know exactly what they feel when they bite me, because I feel it every time we're together. It's like the whole world falls away. And all there is, is you."
"And you think that I don't feel the same way about you? How dare you tell me what I feel?" She turned to walk away again, but he apparently had a big problem with taking hints. Even obvious ones.
"You keep me at a distance, Buffy." His voice seemed urgent then. "You didn't even call me when your mom went into the hospital." What the heck had he expected from her?
"Oh, I'm sorry. You know, um, I'm sorry that I couldn't take care of you when I thought that my mother was dying." God, he had some nerve!
"It's about me taking care of *you*!" That pleading was back. "It's about letting me in. So you don't have to be on top of everything all the time."
"But I do. That's part of what being a slayer is." He so didn't get it. She couldn't *not* be on top of everything all the time. "And that's what this is really about, isn't it? You can't handle the fact that I'm stronger than you."
"It's hard sometimes, yeah." Now *he* was looking at her like she was the one who didn't understand. "But that's not it."
"Then what? What else do you want from me, Riley? I've given you everything that I have, I've given you my heart, my body, and soul!" She gathered her anger around her like a shield. What more did he want from her?
"You say that, but I don't feel it. I just don't feel it." His flat, abrupt tone told her he was serious. And that really kind of pissed her off. She was trying. She was giving him everything she had. But apparently it wasn't enough for him.
"Well, whose fault is that?" She bit out, then decided to lay it all out for him. "Because I'm telling you, this is it, this is me. This is the package. And if it's so deficient that you need to get your kicks elsewhere ... then we really have a problem," she finished, quiet and calmly. She'd made sure to look him in the eyes as she'd said it, ensuring he understood just how serious she was, and then looked away, giving him a moment to process that.
"They want me back, Buffy ... the military," He paused. "It's deep undercover, no contact with civilians. Transport's leaving tonight."
"Tonight?" Talk about being spun! "When were you gonna tell me about this?"
"I'm telling you now." His calmness was unnerving her.
"Are you going?"
"I don't know. If we can't work this out..."
"Then what? This is goodbye?" Was he really leaving her? Tonight? All he did was shrug in reply. And damn if that didn't piss her off even more! After everything that had happened, he was going to pull this kind of crap on her!
"You are unbelievable. You're giving me an ultimatum?"
"No, I'm not!"
"Yes you are! You expect me to get over it now or you're gone!" How the hell could he do this to her?
"I don't, Buffy! That's not what I meant."
"Well, I have heard enough. I will not take the blame for this." She needed to get away from here. She couldn't listen to anymore.
"I'm not asking you to!" He grabbed her arm again, and she almost swung her free hand around to punch him in the nose. But she didn't.
"Let go of me!" She sent him a clear look of warning and jerked her arm free.
"Or what? You'll hit me?" Was that sarcasm?
"Go ahead." He held his arms out in clear invitation. "Come on, do it!" He wanted her to hit him. Practically begged her to beat on him. Did she want her to punish him? Is that what he wanted?
"Get out of my way." She wasn't going to hit him. Not that she didn't feel like it, because she definitely did.
"I'm serious, Buffy, hit me. Hit… me..." He got right up in her face, practically daring her to do it.
She wasn't going to take the bait. Wasn't going to give him whatever it was he felt he needed. In fact, what she was going to do was walk away before she really did beat him into the ground. She slowly stepped around him, keeping eye contact before she turned and grabbed her jacket.
"I'm leaving, Buffy." He paused. She froze. "Unless you give me a reason to stay ... I'm leaving tonight."
This wasn't the way this was supposed to go. But if he wanted to leave so bad, then she sure as hell wasn't going to stop him. He'd already made his choice. Now she was making hers.
*****************************
A knock at the door abruptly ended the dream, giving her little precious time to process it. Then again there wasn't a whole lot to process, was there? Riley didn't feel like what she could give him, was enough; and it was tearing him apart. She glanced at the clock, noting it was already late into the morning. She quickly slid on a her plain cotton robe and headed for the door. There weren't a lot of people who knew where she was living, and with the exception of maybe Tara, she wasn't sure she wanted to see any of them right now. She peeked through the peep hole in the door and sighed. Between the dream and what had happened the other night, Riley was probably the last person she wanted to see right now. She sighed again, leaning her forehead against the door.
"Buffy, please let me in. We need to talk."
"I'm not ready to talk to you." The words were just as true now as they were in the dream.
"Please, just hear me out." A tear slid down her face. Sometimes she really hated the slayer dreams. Deciding that she couldn't escape fate, lord knows she'd tried, she opened the door and stood back in silent invitation. He took the invite and walked in, stopped next to the small desk in that occupied one corner of the room. She shut the door and turned to face him, half expecting him to start talking about Dracula.
"Buffy…" He started.
"I'm sorry." She interrupted him quietly. Which served the purpose of shutting him up before he could start telling her what she already knew was coming. Maybe she could speed this along? Skip the whole grabbing and wanting to hit him part?
"I'm sorry that I can't give you what you need from me, Riley." Gob-smacked was a good description of his current look, which made it easy to keep going. "I know you feel that I don't let you in. That you don't feel like I'm giving you everything."
She wasn't going to cry. She knew how this ended, but she was the one who was going to control when and how. "But this is it, Riley. I have nothing else to give. I can give you what I have, but I don't have in me what you want." She paused a moment, time to close the deal. "I think it would be best if you let me go. You deserve more, and…" She offered him a smile filled with sadness and regret that she'd dragged him into her world. "What I can give you isn't going to be enough for you."
Shocked wasn't too strong a word to describe the look on his face. But then, he did something really weird. The shock turned to what looked like acceptance. And then he had his own sad little smile.
"No, Buffy, it isn't enough for *you*."
And now it was her turn to look shocked. Somewhere in this little prerecorded Technicolor session, the needle had scratched across the record and everything was going all wonky.
"What?" Was all she could manage in her temporarily confused stupor. A state that made it handy when he gently approached her and suggested she might want to sit down.
"Look, there's a lot I don't know about you Buffy; but, there is one thing I do know. You deserve more than this, and you definitely need more than this. Pretty sure you want it, too."
He'd paused. She guessed he was waiting for her to object. She could oblige him.
"What I want doesn't change what is," she offered. Which garnered her a small but exasperated sigh as he ducked his head down and look at the floor.
"Spike wasn't lying," he sighed out.
"You've been talking to Spike?" She couldn't keep the tremor from her voice. Oh god, how much had he told him? Why had he told him anything? She looked up to see Riley looking at her with a very pained expression. Oh god, he knew. He knew everything! Suddenly she needed to be anywhere but here.
She tried to scramble up and looked around wildly for her purse. She needed out of here now. But before she could spot the bag, Riley was suddenly there and had ahold of her shoulders trying to stop her from leaving. She violently jerked back automatically, trying to get away, but he held her firmly. Her training kicked in swift and violent, throwing her arms up inside his, loosening the hold enough that she could swing them out and slam her cupped palms over both of his ears as hard as she could, temporarily stunning him, and giving her enough time to make a break for the door. Just as she was yanking the door open, a dead weight hit her and it, slamming it shut again and pinning her to the door. Instinct took over and she began clawing and kicking at anything she could, screaming senseless words and pleas like a wild animal caught in a trap. And then just as quickly as it had hit her, the weight was gone; allowing her to wildly scramble away.
"Oh my god," she vaguely heard a faint voice say from behind her. But she kept scrambling. There, a door. If she could get to it. Her brain barely processed her name being called over and over, a little more urgently each time. And then he was there in front of her, on the floor between her and the door she'd been heading for, her name still rolling out of him over and over. Her brain desperately searched for an escape. She looked for anything she could use as a weapon. Seeing nothing, she scrambled backwards toward the corner, not knowing anywhere else to go, she just needed to get away. For whatever reason, he didn't follow her. He was sitting on his haunches a few feet away from her. He was blocking any escape, but at least not moving towards her. All she could do was sit there, trying to practically climb inside the wall, while he sat there staring at her, still calling her name.
*************************
"Oh my god." A dark realization came over him as he watched her devolve into a wild and feral state. She'd stunned the hell out of him with the smack down, but he'd recovered just enough to know that the wild state she was in could get her hurt if she ran out the door, so he'd stopped her. He hadn't expected this…this wounded wild animal that was clawing towards the bathroom. He tried calling her name, hoping that would break through whatever fog her consciousness was currently in, and pull her back to reality and him, but it didn't seem to be working. All he could think of was to put himself between her and that bathroom door. Dropping himself to her level, he did just that, still trying to pull her back from wherever she was. She'd looked around wildly, still scrambling and had ended up backed into the corner, clawing at the wall while keeping him in her sight. He backed off and sat on his heels, hoping it would calm her down a little.
It worked to some extent. After a couple of minutes, she quit trying to claw into the wood paneling and settled for watching him from the corner of her eyes as her body shook with violent tremors. He sat on the floor, crossing his legs in front of him and contemplated what to do now. Some part of him had thought Spike had been exaggerating when he'd said Buffy had been through nine kinds of hell. Sure she'd had some sort of breakdown the other night, but before that she'd been so strong and independent. She'd seemed so self-reliant and self-aware, so… hungry for life. That just didn't fit with what Spike had said.
Yeah, she'd been distant and then there was the whole breakdown the other night, but that didn't fit with what he was seeing now either. Something told him that was related to some whole other issue. There weren't a lot of things that could turn a human being into something this wild and wounded. And this level of reaction usually meant recent, like days or weeks; but she'd been here and in his bed for a couple of months, practically drowning him in her need.
Spike hadn't been lying; she was drowning. But how deep was the water she was drowning in? This kind of trauma was deep and dark, and at least a little old. She'd had enough time to do some serious self-defense training, the kind that took time to get this good at. He was sure it would be days or maybe weeks before his hearing would return to normal, much less his broken nose.
It was old enough that she'd reclaimed her sexuality; hell, developed a serious hunger for it. Not one for a lot of words, she practically screamed a need to be touched and to be physical, like it was the only way she had to communicate, her only way to…
And suddenly something else clicked into place, and he groaned. Jesus, how much *had* this girl gone through? Was it all the same person? Spike said it had gone on for twelve years. A relative? Parent? With that kind of time frame, at least some of it certainly was. She'd been raised in a violent physical world. One that she still lived in whether she knew it or not. She'd never developed any other way to interact or understand her world. And now what Spike said about her breakdown being a good thing was making a little more sense. No wonder she was one step forward and two steps back.
So what all was he looking at? Years of physical abuse, which never came without mental abuse; rape, pretty violent if her current state was any indication; death, Spike had mentioned that the guy she was in love with had died about a year ago. If he was Spikes brother, he was probably somewhere close in age. Dying young usually meant either very violent or very sick, always tragic. Parental violence usually meant single parent, either death or divorce, which meant more loss. That would explain the closing off. Was there more? Wasn't that enough? Hell, one of them would be enough to keep a person in therapy for ages.
But until today, he'd had no clue that "whatever this was" involved this level of hell. She's seemed as normal as anyone else. So, how did she get to this level of ok, and still have not learned to cope with all of these things? Because the woman in front of him was absolutely not coping. Had no one gotten her any help? As intent as Spike was on "saving" her, he couldn't imagine he'd never tried to get her help. But then, hadn't he said she didn't want any? That she didn't think she needed or deserved any?
And that was when the epiphany hit him, as everything snapped into place. It suddenly all made a lot of very scary sense. This creature in front of him was the real Buffy. This was what she'd been hiding from him, from everyone probably. This is what's left when the mask falls away. She'd never faced what had happened to her. As more trauma occurred, she'd just added it to the pile. Instead of learning to cope with everything, she'd simply pushed it to the side and kept going, dragging it all along with her without even realizing it.
The problem with the monsters in the closet is that if you don't slay them, they keep coming back. And the kind of monsters she was fighting? If she didn't kill them, then they were going to kill her.
So now what? He looked back over at her. She was still hugged up against the wall, but her posture was a little more relaxed. Had she fallen asleep? He hoped so. If what he suspected was true, she probably hadn't slept well in years. Should he move her? If he woke her, she might or might not be lucid. If she woke up in the corner, the confusion might send her right back into her feral state. He approached her slowly, making his body ache with the coiled tension with which he was holding his muscles. The closer he got, the more certain he was she'd fallen asleep. More gently than he thought himself capable, he picked her up and moved her to the bed. He pulled a blanket up over her, and then grabbed a chair and started his vigil.
How she was in the morning would determine what happened next. If he couldn't get her to willingly face her demons, then he was going to have to take her somewhere that could. She'd probably hate him forever if he did; but, she couldn't go on like this. It was killing her.
And he had a sneaking suspicion that it was killing Spike, too. That gravitational field was looking more like a massive black hole. Could they escape it, or had their failure to face everything sealed their fate? Now who was being fatalistic? He was beginning to understand Spike, now. He'd jumped into the event horizon willingly, knowing that neither of them might every make it out alive, but hoping that against all odds he could pull them both out.
*******************************
She awoke slowly, coming to consciousness with her head feeling a bit like it was full of cotton. A little too much pressure, and not exactly certain what had happened. She was in her bed, that much was clear. What she didn't remember, was going to bed. She started probing her memory to see what she did remember. That was when flashes of images and feelings came flying back at her, and she started to scramble back. She would have fallen flat in the floor if someone hadn't caught her. She froze. They'd caught her again.
"Buffy?" His voice cut through the fog.
"Riley?" She looked up at him, unsure if she was hearing things. Please let it be him.
"It's me. I've got you. You know where you are, Buffy?" He asked.
She looked around and sent up a prayer of thanks that she was in her dumpy little rat hole room, and it was Riley holding her, and not… She closed her eyes and banished that thought.
"Must have been some dream." She gave him a watery smile.
He lifted her back onto the bed, and then handed her a glass of water.
"How long have you been here?" She asked, after drinking most of the water.
"What?" He leaned in a little closer and turned one side of his head slightly towards her, like he was having trouble hearing her. The implication of that slammed into her full force and she started to panic. What had happened here?
"Buffy, breathe!" He held his hands up in clear surrender. The action drew her attention to him, and helped to focus her just a little.
"Come on, just breathe in and out, Buffy. You're safe, no one is going to hurt you."
She followed his lead as he slowly breathed in his nose and blew out of his mouth. Bringing her heart rate and panic level down about six levels. Once she'd finally calmed enough to settle back on the bed, he sat back in his chair and let her finish calming herself down. Which unfortunately gave her lots of time to think while he stared at her. She was still having a hard time sorting out exactly what had happened. As she continued to breathe and definitely not focus on how intently he was staring at her, she tried to piece out the events. Dream. Talk. Talk about… her breath caught… he knew. And she'd tried to get away, but he'd grabbed her and she'd… her breathing was ratcheting back up again…
"Buffy, slow your breathing down." He was breathing with her again.
Refocusing. Ok. Ears. Escape. Door. He'd slammed the door shut and then it all got fuzzy after that, because suddenly she was right back….
"NO!" She screamed out angrily, balling the blanket under her into her tight fists. Not going back there. Not reliving any of that again. At least she wasn't in panic mode anymore. The anger made it better. Helped her focus. She deliberately focused her breathing and senses and told herself to calm the heck down.
"Buffy?" His soft voice broke through the silence of the room.
She opened her eyes to look at him. He knew. She looked up at the ceiling, cursing the cosmic fates that had so cursed her life. She sank back into the bed, and for several seconds tried to figure out how to proceed.
"How much did he tell you?" She asked, unable to keep the anger and hurt out of her voice.
"He didn't," came the simple reply, causing her to snap her attention to him. "Only thing he ever said was that your boyfriend died about a year ago."
She drew in a deep breath. That was all he knew? No, the look on his face earlier clearly indicated her knew way more than that.
"Please don't lie. I can tell that you know…" he breath hitched again. "He obviously told you more."
"No, he didn't." He assured her. "Kept saying it wasn't his story to tell."
That gave her pause. If Spike hadn't told him, then how did he know? She groaned as she internally smacked herself upside the head. She'd practically told him herself. If her addled brain was any indicator, she must have given him one heck of a show.
"Will you tell me what happened?"
He might as well have asked for the moon and stars. She shook her head.
"Have you told anyone what happened?" She nodded. "Did you tell the police?" Another nod. "Anyone else?" She thought about it. Had she told anyone else? "No."
"What about the rest?" She gave him a sideways look. He'd guessed about the attack because she'd gone mental on him. But if Spike didn't tell him anything, then what did he mean by 'the rest'?
"Was it your mother or father?" He asked. His resolute expression clearly communicating he wasn't budging until she answered. What she couldn't figure out, was why she was answering him.
"It was my dad."
"All of it?" Again, with the resolve face. She just shook her head in response.
"Buffy, I can go on playing twenty questions, and something tells me it's the only way I'll get any answers, but this would go a lot quicker if you would just tell me."
She shook her head again. He sighed.
"Right. Father, but not all. Is he the one who…?" He left the question hanging, but she couldn't help flinch at the word he didn't even say. She shook her head.
"Then I'm guessing you had lots of 'accidents' as a kid. The kind that ended up with lots of visits to the hospital?" She nodded.
"But he never…?" She shook her head vehemently.
"Did he let someone else? Without your permission?"
How did she answer that one? Images and feelings of old Mr. Buchannan flashed back though her mind before she quickly shut them down. She nodded.
"More than one?" She shook her head. "More than once?" She shook her head again. "Did he help?" She shook her head vehemently again.
"Buffy, God, how do I say this? What I saw here, was this something separate from that?" She nodded.
"Jesus, Buffy," He whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep the tears from falling.
"What I saw, this was violent. Caged animal, scared for your life, kind of violence. Did they try to kill you?"
Again, how did she answer that. They had beat her and pounded her head into floor until she'd blacked out, twice, and then left her to die in a pile of trash in an alley. She nodded.
"Before your boyfriend died?" She shook her head. Then decided to correct him.
"Fiance. We were engaged." Another sigh.
"Was he sick?" She shook her head. "Accident?" She nodded, and then just kept nodding. Finally she fell over on the bed as she couldn't hold back the tears any more.
"Is there more?" He still pressed.
She shook her head. She couldn't go any further. No more. He'd already guessed enough. The rest didn't matter.
"Buffy, you said you haven't told anyone else about what I saw here. Does that include Spike?"
She froze for a moment, going slightly stiff. And apparently Riley saw that and didn't like it.
"Did he do this to you?" His voice practically dripped with venom. She remained frozen. She hadn't told Spike. He'd seen. "I'll kill him!" Riley shouted.
"NO!" Buffy bolted upright. "He didn't do it, Riley! He didn't…. he didn't have anything to do with what happened."
Riley visibly took a moment to calm down as he sank back down in the chair.
"Have you told him what happened?" She shook her head again.
"He's the one who found me. After. He got me to the hospital."
"How did he know where you were?" Riley asked with confusion.
"Didn't. He was buying cigarettes. As he was leaving, he happened to see them when they were dumping me in the alley." She wrapped her arms around herself.
Riley looked up at the ceiling as he slowly breathed in and out. She wondered if he was praying or cursing the same powers she cursed when she did that.
"And the black hole gets bigger and bigger," he mumbled. She wasn’t sure what to make of that.
"Buffy, have you ever talked to anyone about all this?" She shook her head. "Not even Spike." Again, she shook her head.
"He tried. He always tries. But…" she trailed off.
"You can't figure out how to tell him?" She nodded.
"Because you never learned." He was looking at her earnestly. "All you've ever known is the physical world, and how it interacted with your body. It became the only way you knew how to talk because it was the only way that anyone ever talked to you."
"Did Spike tell you that?"
"No," he looked confused. "But, I'm betting he told *you* that. Didn't he?" She nodded.
"That's what the other night was about, wasn't it? When you broke down? You realized what he said was right, didn't you?" Riley probed. She nodded.
"Buffy, I want to ask you something, and I want you to be straight with me. Can you do that?" He gave her a piercing look. She nodded.
"Have you ever seen a counselor to learn how to deal with all of this?" She kind of nodded a moment, but then changed and shook her head.
"I'm taking that as a no?" She nodded.
"Jesus, Buffy, no wonder you went native earlier. Did you ever face *any* of the stuff you went through?"
"Of course I faced it! I did what I had to and moved on!" She was getting a little of her fire back.
"No, you didn't. You did what you had to do, yes; but you haven't moved on Buffy. You just realized two nights ago that your body is the only way you know how to connect. You never talked to anyone about all of this, because then you'd have to say it out loud. Give it meaning. Face how it made you feel. Accept what happened and actually deal with it. What happened here today? This isn't what happens when someone has learned how to deal with their past, Buffy. This is what happens when someone buries it inside and never faces it. It hides inside you, and it burns and tears you apart until you can't hold it in anymore and then it comes clawing its way to the surface."
"You're wrong."
"No, I'm not. Buffy, think about it. Did you ever seriously face any of it, or did you just try to forget it? Did you really face it? Or did you turn your back on it?"
She let her silence answer the questions for her.
"You know you can't go on like this, right? It will kill you in the end, and it will poison everything and everyone around you."
"Why do you think I've tried to leave them all behind? Everyone around me dies!" She broke down again.
"Buffy?" He asked. Oh hell, she hadn't meant to say that. She couldn't look at him.
"Buffy, who is 'everyone'?" She shook her head. She couldn't do this anymore.
"Please go."
"Not until you talk to me."
"Didn't you just say that I don't know how?" If felt a little good to throw it back at him.
"Who is 'everyone', Buffy?"
"I can't!" She was pleading with him now.
"Who?" He pressed.
"All of them!" She screamed out. "Mom, Jenny, Angel, Gabriel. All gone, because of me!"
Well, that did it. He looked pretty thrown. She'd finally gotten him to shut up.
"How?" Or, maybe not.
"Was it all the same accident?"
"What do you want from me?" She begged.
"I want you to face it, Buffy! I want you to meet it all head on. Stop running from your demons, Buffy. Face the monsters and kill them all!" It seemed like he was almost begging her, by the time he finished.
"Who are they, Buffy? Tell me." She shook her head again.
"Who is Jenny?" She couldn't stop the tears. "You said your mom and then Jenny. Who's Jenny?"
"A…Angel's mother." She took a gulping breath. "We were living with them when…" She couldn't finish.
"When the accident happened?" He guessed. She nodded.
"Gabriel?" He pressed.
She met his eyes. Her own eyes wild, pleading, begging, as she shook her head so hard that she thought her brain might rattle.
"Angel's father?" He asked. She shook her head less vehemently.
"I can't. Riley, I can't. Please!"
"Brother? Spike and Angel's brother?" She kept shaking her head. "Your brother?" She was trying to look away from him, and kept shaking her head. "Your dad?" Couldn't he understand. She can't do this.
"Who is Gabriel, Buffy?" He had moved around to the side of the bed where she was trying to escape, blocking her way. "Who is Gabriel, Buffy?"
She continued shaking her head, and now her whole body was shaking, as she tried to avoid him.
"Who… Is… Gabriel?" He was in her face now, close to shouting.
"HE'S MY SON!" She screamed, as she shoved him away with every bit of strength she could muster, send him flying back to land hard on his ass.
"He's my son," she crumbled into a heap on the floor next to the bed.
"You have a son?" Riley's small voice betrayed his shock.
"In point of fact, she has two," Spike said from the doorway. "Think it's time we all had a chat."
Thirty - It's Not Somebody Who's Seen The Light by Irishrose
Riley watched as Spike moved around the room with quite purpose. Spike disappeared into the bathroom a moment, to reappear with a small towel in his hand and a cup of water. Then the guy opened the mini-fridge in the corner, popping ice cubes out of the tiny tray from the freezer compartment into the towel. After setting his items on the dresser, Spike turned and stared at Buffy for a long moment, the longing in the guy's face was so evident it was almost painful for Riley to look at. But then Spike ran a hand through his hair, schooled his face and knelt in front of Buffy, just a little outside arms reach of her. He got the distinct sense that Spike had done something like this for Buffy before.
For some reason, that thought made him a little angry. How the hell could the guy watch her go through this without getting her help? How could anyone have?
Spike was talking to her now as he was inching closer to her. At some point he had retrieved the ice and set it next to him on the floor. And then Buffy was in his arms, as she continued crying. He watched as Spike picked up an ice cube and began rubbing it on the back of her neck as she continued to cry. It seemed to be relaxing her a little, as the sobs that had been wracking her body were quieting down to a more modest level of crying.
"No, don't." He looked straight at Spike to see if he had heard him. He had, and was shooting him a glare.
"She likes it. Helps calm her down, you git."
"She doesn't need to calm down, she needs to face it!"
Spike just sighed and closed his eyes, but didn't stop with the ice.
"Look, man," Riley began. "I know she's been though a lot…"
"You have NO idea what she's been through!" Spike growled.
"I managed to draw a pretty good picture from what I could get her to tell me!" He was almost shouting now.
Spike looked at him with a wary eye, as if trying to judge if he was bluffing or if he really knew as much as he thought he did.
"Besides, you don't know everything, either. Her words, not mine." It almost felt good to throw that little jab at him. And it had worked. The guy was now looking hurt and a little confused as he stared at the wall.
"Reckon I don't at that," Spike finally replied. "No one does, except her."
"Why the hell didn't anyone ever get her to someone who could help? Any of the stuff I heard could break a person, much less all of it."
"Tried," Spike looked him straight in the eyes a minute, before looking back down at Buffy. They both realized she'd cried herself to sleep. Spike gently cradled her closer, and then stood up and moved her to the bed. Riley watched as he smoothed her hair away from her face, again with that look. That black hole was still swallowing him.
"Look, Cardboard," Spike said, walking around the bed, "I don't know what all you got her to tell you, only caught the last bit…"
"You're not making me like you any better, Spike." That got him a frustrated sigh from the guy.
"She tried, okay. Kind of hard when either no one believes you, or your dad has enough influence to make sure that no one else can get close enough to do anything. Besides, if you didn't know her, would you have believed even half of what you think you know, or would you think she was all sack of hammers, because there's no way all that happened to one person?" Spike gave him a hard look.
The more he thought about it, the more he mentally conceded that the guy might have a point. And now he had one more piece of the puzzle. Of course she didn't just have an abusive dad, she had the kind of monster that knew how to make sure he could keep her under his control. He'd had no idea about all of this, and she was his girlfriend. If she walked into somewhere and laid out everything he'd pulled out of her today, they probably would have thought her delusional or even schizophrenic. She really had done what she had to do and pushed everything away.
"Last person told her she couldn't help her if she didn't tell her everything," Spike sank down in the chair Riley had been sitting in earlier. "Buffy was afraid if she did they'd lock her away, or do something so she couldn't see the baby."
Riley sat there processing that a moment. It was mostly irrational, but not completely. Hadn't he thought about it earlier? A son. Buffy had a son. Two, according to Spike. That alone blew his mind. And one of them had apparently died at some point. That bomb went off in his head, sending a wave of pain and sympathy through him. This tiny little woman in front of him was all kinds of amazing.
"Buffy has a son." Maybe if he said it out loud he could wrap his brain around it more.
"Two, mate." Came the reply from across the room.
"But one of them is…" He didn't finish the sentence. For a long time he didn't think Spike was going to either, as he listened to the silence that hung in the room.
"What did she tell you?" It was a very weary sounding voice for such a young guy. Heck, they were all too young for any of this. And he suddenly had a little more empathy for Buffy, because he didn't want to say everything and he hadn't been front row for any of it.
"Mostly just shook her head yes or no to my questions. So far, I've pieced together that her mother died. She was raised by her father who beat her for years, and let a friend of his use her at some point. A pretty violent rape by at least two people who also tried to kill her, after which you found her. Then an accident that killed your brother and mother. And now, at some point she had two sons."
"'Bout sums it up, yeah"
"Were they a result of the rape?" It would make sense that she had walked away from them if so.
"No," Spike's voice held an edge of annoyance. "The twins were courtesy of my brother, who was apparently too stupid to figure out how to use a welly proper."
"What happened? How did they die?" Curiosity got the better of him. Had she given them up for adoption? Before or after one of them died?
He watched as a myriad of emotions played over Spikes face, as he stared at Buffy. So many emotions for such a simple question: worry, regret, fear, anger, sadness, even a small smile. Maybe it wasn't a simple question. Spike leaned his head back and closed his eyes, then took a deep breath and blew it out.
"Little over a year ago, Jenny, Buffy, and Angel were headed to an appointment. Supposed to have one of those ultrasounds to check on the twins. They were on the Interstate when the fog rolled in…"
"That big pile-up last year?" He remembered hearing about that at the time. It had been horrific judging by the pictures on the news.
"They were in the middle of it. Car was rear ended. Guy couldn't see them; was goin' faster than he should have. Hit 'em so hard they ended up wedged under the truck in front of them. Decapitated Jenny, crushed Angel and Buffy. Both were trapped. Couldn't get to Buffy till they got him out. Couldn't get him out without killin' him."
"Jesus." Riley breathed out.
"Watched him die, my dad and I." Spike was looking straight at him, and it sent a little shiver through him to imagine what that must have been like. After another breath, Spike continued.
"Buffy was in and out through the whole thing, mostly out. By the time they finally pulled her out, she'd been in labor and bleedin' inside. Rushed her to surgery; delivered Michael and Gabriel. Doctors said she nearly didn't make it. Gabriel only made it about 24 hours; combination of the trauma, blood loss, and being early. Michael pulled through, though. Buffy ended up in a coma for five days; when she woke up, she didn't remember anything."
Ok, so this was bordering on the absurd, and yet making sense in the "can't make this stuff up" sort of way.
"After that… she just wasn't the same. Like she was there, but not. Went to the funerals, but she wasn't really there. Far as I know, today's the first time she's acknowledged Gabriel even existed. Could barely get her to take care of Michael, wouldn't speak to her sister, or anyone else, except what she had to. One night she just scarpered off. Left a note that we'd all be better off without her." He was stroking her hair again.
"You've been raising her other son?" It was really more statement than question. Of course he was.
"Angel's parting gift." Spike continued to stroke Buffy's hair, as a sad smile spread across his face. "Gave them to me and made me swear to take care of them. Like I would have had a bloody choice; they're part of her."
Boy, that black hole had one hell of a gravity well. These two were so far in they were practically fused together. He also had a little more of a grip on, and maybe a little respect for, the man across from him. Oh, he still hated him. But there was a chance that he might be able to make her happy and maybe even save her from herself. Or to be more accurate, they just might save each other.
He'd been right about her not facing her demons. Hadn't faced any of it, and when it had become too much to ignore, she'd run from it, literally.
**************************
Her consciousness came swimming up slowly, again noting that she was in her bed, in the same spot she had been, and it was nice and quiet in her little home sweet hell hole. She breathed a heavy sigh. A dream. Not a slayer dream, just an everyday nightmare where all of your deepest darkest secrets were suddenly out in the open. That would have been awful had it been real. How would she have moved forward after that?
She supposed there was a lesson in all of it; there usually was. This one seemed to be chock full of them, though. Riley would be leaving because she wouldn't let him in. Funny thing was, dream Riley had helped her despite knowing she couldn't give him what he wanted. He'd been right, she hadn't really faced anything. She'd only ever slayed the demons in her dreams, because for the longest time it had been the only place that she could. But now…
Where did she even start? Things were such a mess. Did she do what she needed and then really move on? Give everyone the life they deserved? Did she go back and face all of them? Face…him, and everything else that might mean? Right now… she was going to start with the hottest shower she could stand.
She opened her eyes, to see Riley sitting in a chair next to the door, head dipping slightly as he nodded off. Whoa, boy. She looked behind her to the other side of the room and confirmed that Spike was sitting in a chair by the bed, not napping. She closed her eyes and sank back into the bed. Not a dream. This was actually happening. Great.
"Why won't you people just leave me alone?"
There was silence for a moment. She almost wondered if they'd heard her.
"Why do you think?" That was Riley.
"I don't know, you just like making my life a living hell? Cause I haven't had enough of that."
Someone snorted, but she wasn't sure who, but thought it was probably Spike.
"So, you ready to talk?" Riley again.
"Didn't you say I didn't know how?" She needed to get new material.
"Time you learned, isn't it?" Spike answered.
"What do you want me to say?" She turned and stared Spike straight in the eyes, daring him to answer the question. For once, he didn't rise to the challenge. He broke off the stare without a word.
"How about you then? How do you picture this going?" She stared at Riley now.
"Doesn't matter what I think, Buffy. What matters is how you need this to go."
"I'm thinking out the door would be nice." She plastered on a fake smile.
"No, that's how you *want* it to go, not how you need it to go." Riley grinned. Why was he being so cheery about this?
"Buffy," Spike piped up again. "Iowa may be a bit thick, but he's not wrong. I think… think it's time you had a little peace. Don't see that happening until you make peace with everything. Bloody hell, I'm not saying any of this right!"
"And how do I do that?" Her voice was little more catty than she'd intended.
"Face it." Riley's voice was far from catty. It was solid. Sure. "Claim it. All of it. Say it out loud. Feel it. Accept it. Own it. Or it will continue to own you."
Feel it? Isn't that what she'd done all along? Kind of hard not to feel when someone is beating it into you. When every bit of you physically hurts from head to toe.
"I don't mean literally." Stupid psych majors. "Don't shut yourself off. Feel everything you didn't let yourself feel then."
"Say I do? Say, Buffy's a slobbering idiot who runs around crying about her feelings? How exactly is that going to help anything?"
"Can't live with all that poison inside." Spike was looking at her again. "Gotta let it go."
Now she was the one who couldn't hold his stare. He was right. She wanted to let it all go. But then what? The pain had bolstered her for so long, she wasn't sure she knew how to function without it.
"I don't think I can." She looked back at Spike again. Pleading for him to understand. She wasn't sure what else she could really say at this point.
"What's stopping you, Buffy?" Riley pressed.
"I don't know how." Her eyes were starting to fill. Damn tears.
"How to what, Buffy?" Gods Riley was being a pushy bastard today.
"Any of it. Feel. Let go. Let someone in." She looked at Riley. Maybe he would understand. He was being so damn stoic though.
"I had to build walls a long time ago to keep everything out. Keep me safe. I've wanted to break them down, but they kind of took on a life of their own. Self-repairing. They didn’t just keeping everything out, they kept everything in. Every time I thought I was starting to create an opening, something would happen and the cracks would get smaller and vanish. And it got a little bigger and a little stronger."
"You don't have to do it alone, Buffy. That's what help is for." Riley was sounding a little frustrated.
"You don't understand!" She looked wildly between Riley and Spike. "Everything that is me, is inside here. If I tear it all down and everything comes spilling out, what if… what if there's…" She met Spike's eyes again. "What if there's nothing left?"
Spike closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. Did he finally understand? When his eyes opened again, she couldn't escape the intensity of his stare as he leaned towards her.
"You've never seen how strong you are, Buffy. How much you care. How you love. How beautiful you are, inside and out. Everything about you is amazing; and no matter what happens, there will *never* be nothing left inside."
She wanted to believe him. She wanted to let him in. Wanted to let herself try to be happy. To be the person he thought she could be. She just didn't know if she could. And she couldn't bear to hurt him if she couldn't. He was her constant, her north star. If she lost that…
"I don't want to hurt you." It slipped past her lips before she could stop it.
And yet, judging by his face, she'd done just that. He was pulling back now, away from her. She didn't know how, but somehow she'd just screwed everything up again.
"Oh for the love of…" She heard Riley talking, but could stop looking at Spike as he withdrew.
"You two really are hopeless; you know that, don't you?" Buffy suddenly decided there was a lot of lint on the cover that needed to be picked off.
"Look, I don't know your whole story, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to. What I do know, is that you two are drawn together like some sort of binary star. You couldn't escape each other if you tried. And all of this stuff that happened, it's like a black hole that is sucking you both in. Neither one of you can get out without the other because you're tied together. If one goes, the other does too. So what're you going to do about it?"
She glanced up at Spike briefly. Was it true? Granted, it was an epic nerd reference, but it made a sort of sense. She saw Spike briefly glance back at her. What was he thinking?
"Stupid, stubborn, pigheaded…" Riley stopped his tirade and gave a couple of very audible deep breaths.
"Spike, have you *ever* told Buffy, point blank, that you're in love with her?" Spike looked up and straight into her eyes. She stared right back at him.
"She knows how I feel about her."
"Not what I asked, Spike."
"No, alright? Never said it. They're just words. Tried to tell every other way I could think of." Spike was still staring into her eyes.
"Tell her."
Spike looked behind her to Riley, a question on his face and what looked like… worry? Why was he worried?
"God, you're as bad as she is. Tell her, Spike."
She waited. He looked at her. She wasn't sure he was going to do it. He was right, she knew. Had used it against him, and let it comfort her at different times. He was taking so long. Did he still love her?
"Buffy," He started. He left it there for a few long seconds. "I love you. Been in love with you as long as I can remember. Nothing will ever change that."
Her breathing was coming a little faster. It was one thing to know it, to hear others say it. It was a whole other thing to have his look her in the eyes and say it himself after all these years and all the hell they'd been through.
"Great. Now… Buffy, have you ever told Spike point blank you're in love with him?"
What? She turned and looked at Riley. Had she ever told Spike… in love with him? Was she in love with him? She loved him, yes. With all of her heart… and maybe a bit of her soul… and, oh god.
"This is…" Riley's eyebrows were practically in his hairline with his shocked expression. "You didn't know?" He asked, his voice holding more than a little wonder. "You had to know, hell *I* knew! How did you not… you didn't know?"
She turned back around to look at Spike, who was studiously looking anywhere except at her. Could she be? In love with him? Was she?
"Oh, God…" Again, it slipped right out of her mouth before she could stop it. It got his attention, because now he *was* looking straight at her. She had a feeling what she said next would change everything forever.
"Oh, God…" Again, it slipped right out of her mouth before she could stop it. It got his attention, because now he *was* looking straight at her. She had a feeling what she said next would change everything forever.
What did she say? What could she say? Was he right? Was she in love with Spike? She loved him, absolutely. He’d been the one sure thing in her life ever since that day he showed up at her door asking for cream of tartar so Jenny could make a pie. The same day Angel had first spied her in the alley, and seen the bruise on her cheek. Spike had come by the next day after she got home from school and knocked on her door until she’d finally given up and opened it, telling him to go away. He’d been stubborn even then, insisting that she let him in. She’d been just as stubborn, and refused. He’d lifted her hair from the side of her face, tucking it behind her ear, and then ever so gently run his thumb over the bruise on her face, despite the fact she’d covered it pretty well, he’d known it was there. He didn’t say anything, just smiled as he stared into her eyes. She’d eventually told him she had to finish her chores and shut the door on him. He came by every day after that, pounding on the door until she opened it. Some days he just smiled at her, looking at her as if he could divine the secrets she kept by staring at her. Others, he would sit on her front porch talking about his day until she would finally come out and talk, if just for a moment.
Then Angel started doing the same, sneaking moments with her when she took the trash out each evening. More dangerous, since any moment her father could have seen them. And yet, he seemed like he couldn’t care less. For as much as Spike had become her best friend, who watched over her, who waited every day to make sure she was ok, who she knew cataloged every new bruise or scratch; Angel seemed to never see the marks after that first night, like they never existed. And that was part of what drew her to him. With Angel, she could pretend they didn’t exist.
And yet looking back, Spike had given her equal attention while silently acknowledging each and every mark. To Angel, she was flawless. To Spike, the flaws were part of what made her beautiful. And at the time, she’d adored that Angel saw her as flawless. She’d needed that. She needed the friend she had in Spike to give her strength; she’d needed the love of Angel to keep her sane. Angel would take charge of everything but her. Spike would unknowingly give her the strength to keep going. Together, they’d given her the hope she needed that someday she could start living, because some day she just knew her life would really begin, and then… then it would really be something.
She’d done what she had to do. What she needed to do. Without Angel, she didn’t think she would be here. She’d needed him like she needed air to breathe. Just in a different way than how she’d needed Spike. She’d loved them both in her own way, but she’d been truly “in love” with Angel. Why? Because she’d needed to be? No, it wasn’t that simple. She couldn’t reduce the love they had together to something so simple. There was something much more complex to it, that she just couldn’t really describe, even to herself. Something that on different levels made her follow her heart to Angel. It hadn’t even been a choice at the time. It just was. And then it wasn’t; because Angel was gone.
And now? Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? Looking back, on some level she thought she probably had known his feelings for her. She hadn’t ever really admitted it until Giles had confronted her that night that seemed like a lifetime ago. She’d certainly known it since then. Felt it will every fiber of her being. She’d let it calm her and soothe her when she’d felt so lost and alone. She’d tried to let it fill her when she’d felt so empty, but the void had been too great and swallowed her whole. Suddenly Riley’s reference about a black hole finally had context. Spike had been trying to pull her out of it, jumping into the void with her to try and set her free from it. Only, now that she thought about it, he’d jumped in that day 12 years ago when he’d seen the monster she lived with, and came back the next day anyway. That day he’d ghosted over her cheek and sweetly smiled, his gaze so intense she’d had to run from it. She could still see it now in her mind. She’d seen the same look a hundred times or more since that day. Always the same look. That sweet smile, as those blue eyes burned into her own as if he could reach into her soul with them and take away her pain, or at least share it. At some point she’d stopped letting him, stopped meeting his eyes when he had that look, because she was absolutely certain that if she let him, just one more time, she’d fall into them and be lost forever. She’d fall… she’d…. fall… in…
“Oh, God… Spike…”
**********
The silence stretched on for an eternity. He watched as a myriad of emotions played across her face. Her mind seemed to be running a mile a minute, as she stared off into space. After what seemed like forever, he started to worry that she’d gone into some sort of fugue state. Her eyes darting back and forth, seeing something visible only to her. As the silence stretched into minutes, he glanced worriedly over at cardboard. He also looked a little worried, and was starting to make his way over to them, but told him to give her just a little longer. She was obviously lost in thought, but the question was whether she would come back to them. Had that simple question finally done the impossible? Had that one thing been the thing that finally broke Buffy Summers?
And what if she did come out of it? What then? What if her answer was that she wasn’t in love with him? What if she never was nor never would be? Could he live with that? Could he continue on, keeping his promise to Angel and himself all the while knowing she’d never love him? Would it be enough? For him? For her? What if she left again? What if she took Michael with her?
He’d been patient all this time, certain in his own certainty that someday she would say it. She would realize it, and she would say it. He knew she felt it, and that some day, she would say it. Had he been foolishly hoping that he’d seen it there, in her eyes? That in those moments, she’d felt it, and returned it?
What if she said yes? What if she did say she was in love with him? Would she mean it? Or would she just be saying it because they’d forced her hand? She was a survivor, and as he’d recently discovered, she was a capable strategist. Would she say it just to get them to leave her alone? Would she say it because she thought it was what he wanted to hear? Would she say it because she thought it was in her best interest? Would she say it at all? Would she mean it if she did? Could he take that chance? Could he…
“Oh, God… Spike…”
And suddenly she was back. He met her eyes, and she met his. He tried to read what was in them before she could say whatever she was going to say. Because whatever it was, it could very well change everything, forever. But what he saw in that instant was shock. Whatever she was going to say, she had shocked even herself.
He kept looking at her, sure that eventually he could see it. Whatever “it” was. And she kept looking at him. Like she was seeing him for the first time. He hadn’t expected to see that there.
And that was when he made up his mind.
Just as she started to speak, he placed a finger across her lips, silencing her. He saw the question in her eyes. What was he doing? Why had he stopped her? Why wouldn’t he let her speak?
“No.” Panic, there was panic in her eyes, now.
“Not here. Not now.” Questioning again. What did he mean?
“I’m giving you control, Buffy. Whatever it is, you can tell me when you’re ready. But not now. Not this moment.” Understanding slowly mixed with the confusion in her eyes.
He kept looking at her a moment longer, lost in those eyes. He could drown in those eyes. He smiled. When she let him look at her like this, really look at her with her looking back at him, something ethereal happened, like he could almost feel her heart and soul entwine with his own. She didn’t let him do this much anymore. Would this be the last time?
Something changed in her eyes just then. Was he fooling himself? Wishful thinking? Seeing what he wanted to see? Time would tell. It was up to her now.
He dropped his finger and broke the gaze. He stood up and made his way to the door, grabbing his coat along the way. Cardboard seemed to be lost in confusion, looking back and forth between him and Buffy, trying to figure out what had just happened and probably why he’d gone and done something certifiably insane. Just as he stepped through the door, he paused. He glanced over his shoulder, and left her with one last thought.
“I didn’t say it, because I expect you to say it back, or to get anything from you. It has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with who and what you are, how you try, everything about you. I said it because I meant it. I love you.”
And with that, he closed the door behind him and was gone.
“Okaaay, what the heck just happened here?” Riley’s voice broke the silence that followed the sound of the door latching shut.
“Buffy?” He said, coming the rest of the way around the bed until he was face to face with her. “You still with me, here?”
“Oh, God…” was all she could say.
‘Yeah, you keep saying that. Are you planning on finishing that sentence and then, maybe, I don’t know, moving on to another one?” He plastered on a hopeful smile.
She stared at Riley for a long time as she contemplated what to say. She was at a loss just then. She kind of assumed that epiphany’s had that effect on people. Riley must have understood that on some level, because his smile turned from hopeful to accepting as he nodded.
“You *didn’t* know.” It was a statement of fact. “And… now you do.” Also a statement. “Well, that was… unexpected.”
He moved to the chair Spike had occupied minutes before.
“Ok, so, not exactly the breakthrough I had hoped for tonight, but I guess it’s… something.”
Boy, was that an understatement. And led to a question of its own.
“Why?” She looked at him. Why had he done it? Pushed them to this point?
“Why is it something?” Riley’s confusion was apparent in his wrinkled forehead.
“Why did you make him say that?”
“Is that what you really want to know?” He countered her question with another.
“Yes?” She answered and asked at the same time. “Maybe?”
He smiled.
“You mean, why would I try to get my girlfriend and another guy to admit they were in love with each other?”
She nodded. Then decided that was only part of it.
“Why did you come here today?” Resolve was creeping its way back into her voice.
“Which one do you want me to answer first?” He grinned.
“Both.” That got a little chuckle from him.
“You don’t ask much, do you?” He laughed again.
“Honestly?” He began. “I came here because I wanted to help you. After the other night, I went looking for Spike. I guess I thought that maybe he could help me understand what was going on in that head of yours. But all he would tell me was that somehow that whole episode was somehow a good thing… a step in the right direction, I guess.”
He looked at her then. She gave him a look that she hoped would tell him to keep going. After a second, he did.
“Between that and the time you kicked my butt in the quad, I had a suspicion about what you might be dealing with. But I had no idea…” He paused to take a deep breath. “I had no idea…” He paused again. “God, Buffy, I had *no* idea.”
He looked at her. Hard. His eyes held a little bit of what looked like awe. His eyes and that look, it was almost like looking at Angel again. She broke the gaze and stared at the floor.
“As for Spike? Well, I think that maybe I was just hoping that if I could get you to break out of what ever had this hold on you, then you could take off the mask and let someone in. Let someone close. Be a part of your life. I was hoping that could be me, but on some level I really knew it wouldn’t be.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw that sad little smile again as he was looking at her.
“Then, when he showed up today, I knew. You didn’t love me. How could you? You were in love with him. And he was drowning in you. Seeing you two… I don’t know, I just… knew.”
His face turned serious, as he sat forward and looked at her in earnest.
“Now, my turn.” He paused a long second. “Are you ready to take your mask off? Let someone in?”
Well, was she? It was a huge risk. What if she let someone in, and then…
“If I do? You have no idea how many times I’ve let someone in, only to… I don’t think I’m meant to be happy.” She whispered out.
“I don’t believe that,” He asserted. She gave a short bark of a laugh.
“If you’d lived my life, you would.”
“Does Spike believe that?”
She really didn’t have to think about the answer to that.
“Spike believes…” How did she end that sentence? Spike believed that she was the strongest person on earth? Spike believed she could bounce back from everything? Spike believed…
“...In you?” Riley finished the sentence for her. It brought the tiniest smile to her.
“Yeah. He always has.”
“Why do you think that is, Buffy?”
She smiled a little more. She didn’t really mean to, but there you go. “Because he loves me.”
And that’s when it hit her. Somehow saying it out loud made it so much more… so much *more*. She felt tears starting to fill her eyes and looked up at Riley.
“He loves me,” emotion began to choke her, threatening to spill out of her. “He loves me… oh God, Riley, he loves me…” Suddenly there were big strong arms around her, holding her and rocking her back and forth as tears rolled down her face. “He loves me.”
Riley continued holding her for a few minutes, then set her back at arm’s length, still holding her firmly, as the tears started to subside a bit.
“And?” Riley prompted.
She stared at him a moment, trying to figure out what he meant, when it dawned on her what he was prompting her for.
“Say it, Buffy,” He urged. “Out loud, Buffy. If you believe it, say it. Make it real. Hear it. Feel it…”
She felt her face crumble as the words forced themselves out of her, as if they had a will of their own.
“I love him.” Great big engulfing sobs started spilling out of her in buckets now, as she gulped for air between breaths, intermixed with a litany of “I love him” repeated over and over.
Riley was holding her again, and soothing her as she finally let the walls crumble away. Just a bit. She hoped it was enough. The question now was… where did she go from here?”
Buffy found that once she’d gotten all that out, she was sort of at a loss for what to do now. Should she go after Spike and let him know that she was finally ready to say what he’d been waiting to hear? Then what? Fall back into the same routine? Pick up like nothing ever happened. She didn’t think that was necessarily a successful plan of attack.
Plan of attack? Since when did she need a plan of attack with Spike? Since she decided to take one last risk on following her heart, that’s when.
And why was Riley just sitting there watching her pace back and forth in her own room? Shouldn’t he have left by now? What else did he want? Was he expecting her to make some other big revelation?
She stopped and turned to face him, assuming her best ‘I’m in control’ pose, with her arms crossed and one foot planted slightly forward, toe tapping impatiently.
Which seemed to amuse him for some strange reason.
“Something else you’re expecting to happen, Riley?”
“Just enjoying watching you try to figure out your next move,” he grinned, crossing his own arms in a gesture of ‘I’m not buying the attitude’.
That unsettled her just a bit. Was she really that readable? Had she pulled off too much of her mask?
“Well?” He asked.
“Well, what?” She parroted. That earned her an eye roll from him.
“So what are you going to do now?” He clarified.
Wasn’t that the million dollar question.
“I don’t know!” Buffy said, flopping down and back on the bed in frustration.
“Can I make a suggestion?”
“Sure, why not. Seems to be the order of the day.” She opined.
“Look, the way I see it, you could run off after Spike and try to pick up wherever you guys left off…”
“There was nowhere that got ‘left off’,” She snarked.
“Are you certain about that?”
Huh. That was a hell of a question. Had she missed something? Did Spike tell him that there was something?
“What makes you say that?” She looked over at Riley, one eyebrow cocked in clear disbelief.
“What makes you think there wasn’t?” Riley cocked his own eyebrow in challenge.
“We just weren’t ever like that.” She insisted.
The silence that followed made her look over to see if Riley heard her response. Now he had the look of disbelief. Which made her wonder…
“Did Spike tell you something I don’t know?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
Riley snorted. Snorted! “He's not exactly the chatty kind. So, you mean to tell me that you guys have never dated? Kissed? Slept together?”
Buffy was going to immediately deny any of it, but then, that wasn’t *all* exactly wrong, was it?
“As I was saying…”
She shot him a look of warning. Which made him smile again. Why did he find all of this so dang funny?
“You could do that. But I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Ok, now he had her attention.
“Go on.”
“Buffy, you got to this point for a reason.”
“And why is that, oh wise one?” She rolled her eyes and looked back up at the ceiling.
“I’m serious, Buffy. Look, I get it. You did what you had to do. You felt like you didn’t have any choice but to push everything aside and keep going. And sure, that might work for a little while, but it’s not a long term solution.”
“Riley…” She really hoped he picked up on the warning in her voice. She didn’t like the direction this was going.
“Hear me out,” He urged. “You can’t keep doing the same thing over and over. You’re just going in circles and all it is doing is digging you deeper and deeper into a hole. Eventually, you won’t be able to climb out of it. And it’ll be sooner rather than later. You need to see someone.”
“I’ve tried, OK?” She sat up, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “It doesn’t help. They just sit there and stare at me like I’m some sort of freak, waiting to hear my freaky little story, so they can probably tell me I need some freaky little medicine to get rid of my delusions. Think about it, Riley… if I had walked up to you one day and told you my life story, would *you* believe even half it?”
“I get it. I do. But let me talk to some people…”
“NO! You will NOT tell anyone else any of this!”
“Not what I meant.” He held his hand up in a sign of surrender. “I just meant let me do some general checking and see…”
“NO.” That was all she was going to say.
“Ok, ok.” Once again with the hands up in surrender as he leaned back in the chair. “But you need to talk to someone, Buffy.”
“What about you?” It was a last ditch effort.
“Me?!”
“Yes, you!”
“How am I qualified to do anything other than shake my head and say, ‘hmmmm’?” Riley demonstrated his point.
“Look Riley, I know you just want to help, but trust me on this. I tried it. More than once. Different people. I’m not going down that road again.”
Riley huffed out a breath as he stared up at the ceiling. Buffy contemplated if she was going to stay in the little room much longer, she should put some posters or something up there, as much as everyone kept staring at it. Maybe some Zen sayings or something. Couldn’t hurt anything.
Buffy began wondering around the room, straightening up everything. There was a cup of water sitting on the desk with a hand towel next to it. Pillows, chairs, blankets, her… everything just needed to be put back in place.
“Buffy?”
“Hmmm?”
“You said that Spike didn’t know everything?”
She stopped, but only for a moment.
“No one knows everything.”
“Except you.”
She nodded. No need to say anything more.
“So why not talk to Spike?”
“I talk to Spike all the time.” Well, she had at one point, anyway.
“But he doesn’t know everything?” Riley gently pressed.
She tossed a pillow a little too hard towards the bed, overshooting it by a little and sending it right by Riley’s head. Ok, so she’d thrown it. What caught her off guard, was that Riley caught it.
“Tell him.”
“What?” She asked, barely loud enough for her own ears to pick up.
“All of it. Tell him everything.”
“I don’t think… It’s not something I can just…say.”
Riley seemed to consider that for a moment.
“Write it down.”
“Write it down?” Buffy asked.
“Write it down. Put it in writing. Type it out. Write a poem. Draw a picture. Ok maybe not that. Put your story in words. Heck, write a book if you want, just… write it down.”
“You want *me* to write a story?”
“Yes, *your* story.”
“And then what?” Buffy asked. “Give someone my manuscript?” Buffy asked, half joking.
“Sure, why not?”
“Sure! Why Not! I’m sure it would make the New York Best Seller’s List. ‘No Happily Ever After’ by Buffy Summers.”
Riley let a laugh slip before he caught himself and covered his mouth. She gave him her best hairy eyeball. To his credit, he managed to get control pretty quickly.
“Just… write it down, Buffy. One line at a time. Write one page. Then the next, and the next. Then when you think you’re ready, give it to him. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s not about creating a masterpiece. It’s about you getting it out, giving it life, and letting it go.”
She rolled the idea around in her head a bit, but everything seemed kind of muddled. She glanced at the clock. It was late. Or rather, really early. No wonder she couldn’t think straight. Maybe what she needed was to not think for a little while.
“I’ll think about it,” She said. “Tomorrow. But right now, I think what I need is to take the world’s hottest shower and sleep. It’s been a long, long, day.”
“That’s an understatement.” Riley replied as he stood up and walked toward the door. “You’ll consider it, though?” He asked, reaching for the doornob.
“I’ll think about it.” She conceded.
Riley nodded, then opened the door.
“Riley?!” She called after him. A little more urgently than she’d intended.
He froze in his tracks, and after a second turned to look at her.
“Thank you.”
He smiled, a sad little smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He nodded. And then he left.
The shower felt long overdue, and she let the scalding spray and steam wash away the tension and tears, while providing the healing warmth and clarity of rejuvenation.
She quickly dried her hair, applied her lotion, brushed her teeth, and got dressed for bed, letting herself get lost in the familiarity of routine and then settling into her sheets to let sleep claim her.
Her mind had other ideas.
Thoughts and feelings raced around her head. Moments from the day. Moments from her life. All surfacing and screaming to be given breath while stealing her blessed sleep.
Maybe Riley was onto something.
Kicking off her covers, she slid her feet into her fuzzy slippers and shuffled over to the little desk in her room. She rifled through her books and papers until she found a notebook that was mostly empty. She wasn’t really one for writing stories, but maybe if she just started writing….
And so she did. Letting the storm inside spill forth on pen and paper, until sleep’s blessed oblivion finally claimed her.
He found her there the next evening. She was sound asleep at her desk, mouth slightly open. There might have even been a little snoring involved. In a cute and girly sort of way. He’d wanted to give her enough time to sleep and think about what he’d suggested, but not enough that she would revert to her mask and lose any ground she’d gained. Apparently she’d done more than think about his suggestion, if the pages of notebook paper scattered around the desk were any indication. Page after page of what appeared to be… free form poetry?
Where has my father gone
The gentle man who once was here
Who carried me up to bed each night
And tucked my hair behind my ear
Who laughed as he tossed me high in the air
The one who always hugged me tight
And brushed away all my tears?
There is someone now who wears his face
Hugs are gone, no words of love
Now iron hands have taken their place
Where is my father, he isn’t here
Just an empty shell with a mask of his face
Filling itself with cigarettes and secretaries
Whiskey and beer…
He wasn’t sure what he had expected her to write, but that wasn’t it. And yet, scanning through the pages, this was raw powerful emotion that had Buffy written all over it.
Fear... I feel it rolling off of them in waves.
People who previously wouldn't give me the time of day
Now scramble to get out of my way.
I didn't plan it this way. It just kind of happened. I just… snapped
No more pansy little thing that takes whatever is given to her.
I've definitely moved into want, take, have, territory.
I hear the whispers as I stalk by; the big cat, surveying her territory.
Beautiful. Enigmatic. Fucking scary as hell.
Good. A little more fear. It feeds me. Infuses me. Fills me with energy.
Pushes the bounds just a little bit more.
I see the look in their eyes. The guys. They want to reach out and touch
But they know that if they do, they risk having their arm snapped.
That's the problem with touching the flame, you tend to get burned.
And burned they will be.
It's pure power, knowing that I can draw them in.
Feed my hunger. Feel beautiful. Feel wanted. Feel.
And for someone who never had an ounce of power before in their life
It’s a hunger that is insatiable. And one that I can feed at will.
They want to be the one who conquered. But that’s not going to happen.
I’ll conquer them first.
And it feeds the fear. And it feeds the power.
And it's absolute ambrosia that flows over the tongue and fills each nook and crevice
But it never fully satisfies.
But satiety is over rated, and being filled is a hell of a lot better than being empty.
So I let the predator come out to play. She won't go back in her cage.
She's tasted freedom and will die before she surrenders it.
She's drunk on the power, the adrenalin, the rush. She loves the challenge.
The hunt.
The kill.
Most people move down on the food chain. I’ve moved up.
Aaand, that was both scary and hot at the same time. And made probably a whole lot more sense that he was comfortable acknowledging at just that moment. He continued looking through the pages for one with a little more pathos to take his mind off of over thinking that last one.
It seems so long since last we met
Though time has never dulled a single moment.
And with every passing day of the year
I never fail to feel you oh so near.
You weren't the only angels
I've borrowed all too briefly,
But certainly you are the ones
Whose presence I miss the most.
Sometimes I let my mind wonder
To things that have been
That never were
That never will be.
But only for a moment
For that world is done and gone.
Though I also know
That you've never really left.
Because I still hear your gentle whispers
Sometimes clearer than my own thoughts.
And my heart sings with the clarity
That it is your gentle wings
That have guarded the angels I now borrow.
For every now and then
A whisper makes it through.
Or I feel the gentle kissing glance
Of angel's soft and downy wings
And I know without a single doubt
You're thinking of me too.
Hmmm, pathos for sure. But not quite as developed as some of the others. It had the saccharine flavor of trying too hard, like a tween writing an dirge to her true love. But some of these were something he’d almost expect to hear at open mic night down town. And that thought suddenly gave him an idea. Maybe he couldn’t get her to talk to one person behind closed doors, but… maybe he *could* get her to talk to a crowd, in the semi-comfort of creative anonymity?
He scanned through the rest of the things she had written. Looking for just the right one. There was one she’d titled “The Basement”
Dingy, dinged, white boxes line the wall
machines holding the laundry that was supposed to be clean
White stone walls, holding back dirt and sound and safety
Cold that turns to white hot searing burning
Floor that tastes of dirt and salt and blood
Darkness that fades to darker black with each and every crack
The more he read, the more he knew he shouldn’t. He set it aside. Maybe one day she’d let him finish reading it.
He flipped through the rest, pages of poems with names like, “Four Times the Bell Tolled” which he’d assumed would be an Edgar Allen Poe inspired short about the four people he’d learned about. He’d been very, very, wrong.
One called “Chocolate” that was an oddly touching little ode to who he assumed was Angel. It had definite potential for what he had in mind. Another titled “Lapis Lazuli” that was and interesting, geological metaphor heavy, tribute to someone. He could venture a guess who. It also had potential, but still not quite what he was looking for.
Here…yes… this was the one. If she could do this one, she could do anything. And it was powerful enough, with plenty of metaphor to appeal to a bunch of poetry types. Now all he had to do was convince her to read it.
**********
“You can’t be serious?” Buffy was brushing out her mess of a mane
“Buffy, this could be perfect for you. It’s a chance to get rid of all of this stuff you’ve been bottling up.”
“Yes, because I’ve always wanted to open myself up and spill out my secret feelings to a room full of random people so they can judge me. Riley, how can I ever thank you enough for finding just the right place to do it.”
“That’s just it Buffy, they aren’t there to judge you. And they’re all spilling out secret feelings to a room full of random people. They expect it. Buffy, I’m telling you they’ll love it.”
“I don’t know, Riley….”
“Look, just give it one shot. One try, that’s all I ask. Just go in and listen to a few of them. Then, if you don’t think I’m right, we’ll leave.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” She was pretty sure he had a few fingers or toes crossed too.
“Fine,” She started, “BUT, and there is a really big ‘but’, if I see anyone at all that I know…”
“uh huh”
“OR I get a weird vibe…”
“mm,hmmm”
“OR I start to think this whole idea is full of…”
“I get the idea, Buffy.”
“I will leave, with or without you.”
“Understood.”
She sat down with a sign of resignation.
“So, what time does the Titanic set sail?”
Riley told her to quite fidgeting for about the hundredth time, but she just couldn’t help it. What if someone who knew her walked in? What if someone recognized her name? What if everyone laughed at her?
“Relax Buffy, I’m fairly certain most of these guys could make William MacGonagall sound good.”
She was pretty sure that was supposed to make her feel better. If she had any clue who William MacGonagall was, it might help. However, as each person stepped up to the microphone and recited their poetry, she thought maybe she understood. At least a little. Some of the stuff was pretty ok. She’d dabbled in reading poetry back in high school. Angel had even given her a book of love sonnets after he caught her reading Brontė.
The more people got up and read, the more Buffy began to feel that maybe she could do this. She made another scan of the crowd, just to check for the fortieth time, or so, that she didn’t recognize anyone. Riley had kept pointing out how accepting the crowd was of each poet’s efforts. Even the really bad ones were getting cheers and encouragement. Not as much as the good ones, but it was something. The herd of waiting performers were beginning to get a bit thin. It was now or never.
Oh God, what if she forgot the lines? A little voice inside reminded her that the lines were inside her, and had been for a long time. There was no such thing as forgetting an integral part of yourself.
Riley gave her hand an encouraging squeeze as she slowly stood and made her way toward the stage, as the emcee issued a call for any else that wanted to speak, because they still had a few slots left. Don’t look back. Don’t look around. Don’t look back. Don’t look around. She walked up to the emcee and leaned in to give him her name and information. Her hands had gone as cold as ice, so why were they sweaty? He nodded and took the stage.
“Alright folks, settle down. We’ve got a pleasant surprise for you. Now, this is her first time with us here, so please, everyone give it up for the brave new voice of Annie Winters!”
Buffy slowly crept up the steps, and made her way to the microphone. The lights pointing at the stage were bright and slightly hurt her eyes, that had long adjusted to the dark interior of the bar. She found that slightly comforting, because it kept her from seeing the faces of all the people who were now all probably staring at her.
She took a deep breath. Then another. She closed her eyes, trying to see the words on the page she’d written. Until that little voice crept up again. No, don’t see it… feel it. Feel the words, Buffy. You can do this. One more breath, and she began to speak.
A sea of raw emotion
screaming, boiling, churning, rolling,
beating, pleading, needing to be set free.
Partially hidden behind a wall of opaque glass
Only the smallest hint escapes through tiny cracks,
desperately pounding, rushing, trying to escape.
But the cracks always seal over;
and the glass becomes thicker
emotions harder to express.
Another self stares through these eyes,
beating useless fists against the glass wall,
desiring to touch the outside flame of true existance
not this hidden life that others-
cannot fathom of its greatest depths:
full to exploding,
yet ceaseless void.
It wants to destroy the wall-
the one so tired of holding back the tide-
but, the wall will not crumble
no matter how willing to do so.
The storm rages and beats against it
and yet it only briefly falters;
it was built to last forever,
to withstand the greatest devastation,
and every time the storm tide carves a hole
it is self-repairing
automatic
unstoppable
against its own will.
For I made this wall so perfect,
this prison so complete;
no hope of ever escaping,
My soul shall never be
free.
She exhaled, the words finally having finished flowing from her. She’d done it. And now, the silence was deafening. She turned to leave, when suddenly she heard a roar. It startled her. What was… who… it was the crowd. And they were cheering… for her? For her! Her hand came up to her mouth, to stifle the cry before it could escape. Not knowing what else to do, she gave a little bow and a wave, and left the stage as quickly as her legs would carry her, beating a quick path back to Riley and their little table in the back.
She collapsed into her chair, her knees giving out as she reached it, and flopped her forehead down on the tabletop. She felt Riley’s strong hand between her shoulders, and was grateful for the support. After a few more breaths, she regained her composure and sat up to see Riley’s goofy smile shining brightly at her in all its 100 watt glory.
“So how do you feel?” He asked
“Now that the whole wanting to vomit has subsided?” She asked. “Oddly, I don’t know, is buzzing a feeling?”
He laughed a second before stifling it. “See! I told you, this could be exactly what you need.”
“I don’t know. Once is one thing… more than that….”
“Alright folk, we have one more for you, tonight, unless anyone else wants to take our last spot. He’s a semi-regular folks, so you know the drill... What’s that?... Oh, even better. This is highly unusual, as we don’t get many in our little joint who are willing, but it’s my understanding he going wing it this evening! Give it up for William the Bloody!”
Buffy decided that was probably a good time to leave. She’d done what she came to do and satisfied Riley’s strange request. She gave Riley a nod of her head towards the door, and he seemed to take the hint. They got up and started to make their way towards the exit. They’d only made it steps when the poem started.
The Slayer
No. God please no. Her body froze instantly and her eyes closed of their own volition as the words washed over her.
She walks with heroes, cloaked
in the darkness of the soul.
Her heart wrapped around her, engulfing
her in invisible armor.
Vampires born of blood and relishing violence, are
reduced to so much dust in the wind.
Monsters feasting on the flesh of the young, hands covered in slime,
are left in a heap, broken and bleeding.
Even those who fancy themselves hell gods in the guise of human beings,
will be locked away in prisons, until their rotting hearts cease to beat.
And monsters of the human kind, having fortified themselves with
the first and oldest evil of misogyny and base bragging, of stones
will be cleaved from stem to stern and all points north,
the two halves no longer part of the whole.
Even death itself, having
kissed her countenance more times than I can count,
attempted to make her it’s imperfect lover, lost
its grip, as she forges forward, day by day
She walks with heroes, cloaked
in armor bearing scars that serve to strengthen, and
shine, building the perfect armor, fitting
like a second skin, her heart and soul better and brighter than fire.
To us, she may appear a tiny slip of a woman,
the one girl in all the world, she
alone with the strength to stand, against
the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness.
She is the one
The one thing that I’ve ever been sure of.
The Chosen One,
The Slayer.
The drive back to her motel had been mostly silent. After his performance Spike had all but vanished into thin air. Riley had apologized profusely from not seeing him, even though she assured him she didn’t blame him. After that? Silence. Right up until she was getting out of the car.
“Buffy?”
Ugh. Was he going to apologize again? How much more did she need to reassure him she was ok?
“Riley, look…”
“Just give it one more chance.”
Well, that wasn’t what she was expecting him to say.
“Are we talking about…” She left the question hanging in the air.
“Open mic. The bar. Getting it all out.”
Hmm.
“I don’t know, Riley…”
“Buffy, just stop for minute. Think back to earlier tonight. That feeling you had right after you got off that stage. How did it make you feel?”
So many words began popping into her head. Shocked. Relieved. Surprised. Overwhelmed. Elated. Satisfied. Free.
Wow. Where had that one come from? And yet, she couldn’t quite deny it either. Even if only for a little while, it had given her a feeling of being free.
“What if… what if…he’s…”
“So what? If he is? Isn’t that why you were writing it down? To tell him everything?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know he was going to…”
“Hear it?” Riley interrupted her.
“Respond,” She finished.
He seemed to think about that for a moment.
“So, you can talk to him, but he can’t talk to you?”
“Not exactly what I would call that.”
“Really? Because now that I think about it, metaphors aside, I think that there was a whole conversation going on that the rest of us didn’t understand.”
Buffy smiled. He was and wasn’t wrong.
“No metaphor, no conversation.”
That got her a confused look. He seemed to think about it for a while. She watching him start to say something and then stop. She decided that it was good time to finally get out of the car.
“And on that note…”
“So, Tuesday? Same time?” Riley looked at her, hopeful.
Could she? Would she? In a box, with a fox? Or potentially a Spike?
“Tuesday. Same time.”
**********
Tuesday came a lot sooner than she thought it would. She had decided that perhaps she would go with one of the things she’d written that were a little less soul revealing, just in case he was there again. So far, neither she nor Riley had spied him anywhere. She’d checked the open mic sign up sheet a few times, and hadn’t spotted his name, either William or Spike, anywhere on it. Thus far, they’d made it through most of the list with no sign of ‘William the Bloody’ showing up. She wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse about getting up and reciting her piece.
“Alright everyone, this next one made quite the first impression here on Saturday, so we’re excited to see her back. Let’s see what she has for us tonight. Will she be a new favorite? You tell me! Get ready for Annie Winters!
And there went the butterflies again as she walked up on stage. Right up until the moment she could no longer see anyone, closed her eyes, breathed deep, and let the words flow.
Every slap, every hit, every punch, every blow
Reminds me that there is more than just me.
A call to duty that I can not ignore.
I am a guardian, a protector, a soldier.
I am my sister’s keeper.
A fighter in the battle to be free
From fear, from hate, from oppression.
And she will be. Oh, yes, she will be.
Every slap, every hit, every punch, and every blow
Is one more that she will never feel.
One less bit of pain that she will never have to take
Because I will take every single one you throw.
Until that day, so very soon, when time is one my side…
The words went on, freeing themselves from her in a stream a conscience. Until finally, there were no more. She waited only a moment before the audience gave its approval. Even on the way back to the relative safety of Riley, she wasn’t sure that had been the right one to recite, but it was over now.
The next performer was already beginning and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to stick around, or leave. Riley seemed to sense her dilemma and suggested they go ahead and leave. It was then that she realized that she was disappointed that he hadn’t been there. As they were leaving, she paused at the door to put on her jacket against the chill in the air outside. And that was when it happened.
And she shall rise
Like the sun in the east, she can not be caged
No curse of man, nor celestial will
Could ever keep her from her course.
She turned, and there he was on the stage, his eyes piercing through the crowd and straight to her, as if she were the only other person in the room
And she shall rise
Like the ocean tide that bows only to the moon
No creation of mortal ever made
Can contain the ebb and flow of blessings from her bounty.
And she shall rise
Like the warrior goddess Sekhmet, with fire in her veins
No villain who stands before her
Can help but tremble in the presence of her might.
And she shall rise
Like the phoenix, who is from ashes reborn
No trial of fire or flame or time
Can do anything more than renew the magnificence inside her.
And she shall rise
For she is all of these and more
The warrior, the phoenix, the sun, the tide, the goddess
The only constant in the universe unwavering - mother, maiden, crone.
And she shall rise
**********
And so it went. Every Tuesday and Saturday she would work up the nerve to recite something she’d written. And every Tuesday and Saturday, Spike would use his stealth and speed to jump onstage at just the right moment and recite a reply.
When she performed ‘Where has my father gone’, he answered with ‘A tribute to mothers’ that almost had her feeling like she’d been wrapped in the warmth of her mother’s arms again, or Jenny’s, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been talking about his two mothers or hers.
When she recited ‘Chocolate’ she thought than she had him fair and square. How was he going to respond that that one? He called her bluff with one of his own about chocolate sauce that had the whole place laughing and falling out of their seats over his double entendres.
When she broke out ‘Letter to my angels’, he replied with ‘And the angels replied’. ‘Lapis Lazuli’ had been complemented by ‘Gold’. And her tentative recitation of ‘Frozen’ had been tenderly answered by ‘The fire within’. Riley was right. They were having whole conversations, without anyone being the wiser. And if she cared to admit it, she was beginning to think that Riley’s plan was working.
This evening she’d read ‘Predator’, a darker piece she’d written about how much she’d wanted to do nothing more than just feel something, anything. She’d been locked away inside until everything seemed like a foreign world encased in ice. She’d worried a bit about how Spike would respond to that one. When he took the stage, she was prepared for his anger. What she got was ‘Conquered’, a highly metaphoric, yet sensual, exploration about trust and surrender that had left her, and more than a few others in the room, needing to adjust their clothing for better comfort.
She was almost out of compositions now. Only a few of the darkest ones were left. Ones she could never share in this kind, or any other kind, of venue. Come Saturday, she had nothing left to perform. But she did have something left to say. The question was… how was she going to say it.
Author's Notes:
Dream sequence from "Chosen"
The battle was raging fiercely. All around her ubervamps were charging in groups at all of the newly awakened slayers. For their part, they were kicking butt and taking names like they were born to do this. But then, they were, weren’t they? And there were losses. Cho-Ann had been drained in a flash. Amanda, Dawn’s friend, had gone down right in front of her; lifeless before she even hit the ground. Her neck had been snapped. And yet, they all fought on. Even when The First had taunted her using her own face, she’d still known they would win. Somehow. With that knowledge, and a good deal of slayer power and healing, she’d fought to her feet and jumped right back into the fray. If only that thing around Spike’s neck would do whatever it was supposed to……
“Oh Bollocks!” She caught, just above the din of the fight. And then a more urgent, “Buffy!”
“Spike!” She called, dispatching another ubervamp as she turned towards the stairs, where she had last seen Spike fighting. He appeared to be captivated in a strange beam of light, bright as the sun.
Suddenly, intense beams shot out from Spike’s chest in all directions. She stood watching in awe as the light arced around the cavern, disintegrating wide swaths of vampires as it went, reaching every nook and crevice of the cavers with deadly and comprehensive precision until it had dusted every single one of the ubervamps.
She ran to Spike’s side, concern on her face as she recalled Angel’s warning about the potential volatility of the amulet. It appeared warranted when the light failed to shut off once the vampires were dusted, and appeared to be no actively destroying the cavern entirely, is the tremors and crashing rocks were any indication.
“I can feel it.” His voice held an edge of amazement, drawing her attention back from the cavern to him.
“What?” She wondered.
“My soul.” He replied. “It’s really there…” He sounded like until that moment, he hadn’t been entirely sure. How could he have doubted? “It kinda stings,” He added. Was he in pain? Did it hurt, whatever this was? Despite the thought, she couldn’t help stare at him in awe at what he and his soul had done.
And then the cavern shook again. They were running out of time. The entire thing was going to collapse in on itself, and as extensive and deep as these caverns and the hellmouth went, who knows how much of the area would go with it. She vaguely heard slayers telling each other to get out, to head for the bus. Even Faith was screaming at them to run.
“Go on then.” Spike told her, as another violent shake sent earth and rocks crashing towards the hellmouth. Did he expect her to leave him there? Now? After all….
“No! No! You’ve done enough! You could still…” She pleaded before he cut her off.
“No! You’ve beaten them off; it’s for me to do the clean up!” He urged her to leave.
“Buffy, come on!” Faith screamed at her as another shake threated to throw her to the floor and then crush them all where they fell.
“Gotta move, lamb. Thinks it safe to say: school’s out for bloody summer!” Another tremor, and entire ledges and slabs of stone fell into the deepening crater below them.
“Spike!” She couldn’t manage more than that single pleading word of urgency.
“I mean it! I’ve gotta do this!” His voice and face broached no further argument as he seemed to steel himself against the power flowing through him.
All she could do was watch him, in all his glory, determined to face this through to the end. This vampire. This friend. This man.
And suddenly, she knew. She couldn’t let him go without telling him. She needed to tell him as much as he needed to know.
She placed her hand in his upheld one, interlacing her fingers with his. He resolve seemed to fade for a moment, as he first glanced at their hands and then at her. As if simply the gesture itself had already said the words. It was fitting then that their joined hands burst into flames. Even the light itself was acknowledging the event and what was passing between them. Sure, it hurt like hell. But wasn’t that love? Hadn’t he said that? That it burns and consumes?
And then he was looking at her that way. She’d seen that look before. His head slightly tilted, eyes drinking deeply, smallest bit of smile at the corner of his mouth, all with a look that said she was like she was food for the starving, water for the thirsty, and salvation for the dying. And she knew. She knew all over again in that very moment that she loved, was in love, with him. She met his eyes and looked deeply into them for a moment, and told him.
“I love you.’ She poured every bit of tenderness laced with conviction that she could into those three gentle words.
For a fraction of a second, she saw it. His acceptance. And then it was gone. Replaced by something else. Something she hadn’t been prepared for.
“No. You don’t. But thanks for saying it.” Thanks and denial. He though she didn’t mean it. That she’d told him out of pity for the dying man. And he was grateful for it. Oh, god…
And then the cavern shook so violently, it threw her backward, separating their hands even though she tried desperately to hold on.
“Now GO!” He commanded.
And she did.
She ran like the devil was chasing her. Her mind was racing a million miles a minute. Playing and replaying over and over the last few minutes. His glory. His conviction. His determination. His happiness. His love. His denial.
Once she stopped running, and but came to rest just beyond the edge of the crater. She climbed down and stared into the abyss that lay before her. He’d done it. He’d killed all the ubervamps, collapsed the hellmouth in on itself, and buried it under God knows how many feet of rubble. All thanks to the strength of his soul. That he’d gotten for her. So that he would never hurt her again. So that she would see him as something other than a monster. So that he would be loved.
And she had.
And he’d died, certain that she didn’t.
**********
She woke from the dream gasping for air, her sheets soaking with sweat and tangled around her in knots as if she’d fought them in her sleep and lost the battle. She hadn’t had a slayer dream in weeks. Not since that fateful day in her room when Riley confronted her and demanded to know the truth that was her crazy life.
This one had been intense. So, so, intense. It had all felt beyond real. Even now, she caught herself rubbing the right side of her abdomen where she’d been run through with a sword in the dream; making a mental note of a faint itch at the spot.
She disentangled herself from her bed and stood up. Then she started pacing. What did it mean? What was this dream trying to tell her? If she took it at face value, she was going to overcome the odds, but in the end Spike would be dead. Gone, like the others; another sacrifice on the Buffy alter. One last soul to appease the fickle gods so that she could finally be free.
But the dreams weren’t always face value. Slayer dreams were as much feeling and image as they were metaphor. They could be outright, but there was always subtlety as well. A hidden catch or larger lesson that spoke to more than just the obvious truth. They weren’t just ‘monster of the week’, they were life and all the little connections in between.
The larger lesson? She could do this. Things had always looked bad. She’d resented her life. Resented her calling; all of the callings. She hadn’t asked for any of them. She’d burnt out and become nothing more than shell, walking through life doing what she was supposed to and feeling nothing. But now, she felt like she was waking from a too long sleep. Head still feeling all big and stuffed with cotton. Dazed and slightly disoriented, but starting to get her bearings. She would come out of this. Wounded, having lost people she cared for, but alive and at peace, and ready to face the world and really actually move on with her life.
The nuance? That was the trickier part. There was the scythe. A tool that she’d used to overcome. Also a source of power that she shared with everyone would could receive it. One that could ultimately set them all free and tip the scales in their favor for the first time in, well, ever. The wound. Very nearly mortal. Even The First Evil had thought so. She’d almost let herself succumb to it. But she didn’t. She’d faced herself down and stood back up.
‘And she will rise.’
The words of Spike’s poem danced in her head.
And then there was Spike. The metaphor was strong with this one throughout the entire dream. The passionate fighting, throwing himself all in. The light, the soul, the determination to see it through to the end. The tenderness, the fire, the look… *his* look. His brief hope when she’d finally told him that she loved him. Her complete and utter certainty that she’d tried to pour into those three words, when she’d finally given him what he wanted and said ‘I love you.’ His sadness and certainty that she didn’t mean it. Leaving him behind to die alone, happy that he really and truly had a soul; his last thoughts and words confirming his status of being unloved, and yet still determined to save her while dying a hero’s death.
The metaphor was strong, but so was the surface. She would come out victorious on the other side of her life. But whether Spike went out in a blaze of glory at the end of his here’s journey, or completed his journey, wounded but alive and victorious, to start another journey with her once the battle was over, was up to her.
She couldn’t wait any longer. She’d have to tell him. But she couldn’t just come out and say the words. He would never believe it no matter how much she meant them. She would have to find the right words and say them the right way at the right time. Before there was no time left. And damn if she didn’t know what they were or how to say them. She glanced at the clock. She’d better figure it out pretty quick, because it was already Wednesday and on Saturday, she was going to make sure that Spike didn’t get left behind in a cavern, dying alone, and –in his mind- unloved.
She should be glad to have had the extra day from Tuesday to Saturday. Unfortunately, it hadn’t really helped her. She seemed to have writer’s block when it came to how she was going to tell him. With all of the other things she written, the feelings just seemed to take over her hand and words wrote themselves. She knew what she was feeling, so why wouldn’t the words write themselves? No matter how much she tried to make them come out, they just wouldn’t. Was it some sort of sign? Had her taken a clear dream and put her own spin on the meaning?
No, it was there. It just wasn’t coming out. What was she going to do? Riley would be there any minute to…
A quick knock as the door opened had Buffy cursing herself.
“Guess I asked for that,” She deadpanned.
Riley quickly cast a glance behind him to see if she was talking to or about something else.
“Sorry. Case of speak of the devil and he shall appear.”
“Um, I’m not quite sure how to take that?” Riley half smiled.
“Not personally? It’s not you, it’s me?”
That didn’t seem to make him look any happier.
“See! That’s my problem! I can’t say anything right! I’ve been working on this stupid thing since Tuesday and you know how many words I’ve got? Zero! That’s how many! Z-E-R-O, zero! No matter what I try, the words just don’t come out. And anything I do write, sounds like something off of Roger Rabbit.” Her initial gusto had deflated like a balloon until she visibly caved into herself in frustrated defeat.
“Maybe you’re just trying too hard?” Riley helpfully suggested. “I mean, the rest of it just kind of came on its own, right?”
“So, what, I’m just supposed to sit back and wait for my brain to figure out what to say?”
“Well… yeah.”
“No! No, no, no, no, no, and no! I can’t say ‘no’ strongly enough here.” Buffy started pacing back and forth across the narrow room. “I have to do this right! If I don’t say this just right, Spike is going to die again thinking that I didn’t love him.”
“Um, Buffy, am I missing something? When did Spike die?”
“Of course Spike died, he’s a vampire.” Buffy tossed out off-handedly. “But he died closing the hellmouth, and at the last minute I said it.. I told him I love him.” She was now looking squarely at Riley. “And he didn’t believe me! The stupid insufferable idiot said I don’t love him. How could he not believe me?!” She asked resuming her pacing.
“Buffy? Are you feeling ok?”
She paused to once again give him the look that asked if he’d gone insane at some point.
“No! I’m not feeling ok! In less than an hour I’m supposed to go on stage and tell Spike that I love him. The dream was pretty damn clear. If I don’t get this right, he won’t believe me. I’ll move on with my life and never see him again. And he’ll never know I meant it.”
“Dream?” Riley asked, looked slightly less confused.
“Yes, the Slayer dreams.” She waved a dismissive hand in the air.
“Slayer dreams?” He repeated her words.
“Yes! The Slayer…” she stopped mid-sentence. “Oh… I never… oh.”
“Are we talking like, the band Slayer?”
All she could do was stand there fish mouthed, trying to figure out a way to tell Riley the long, long, story of her secret life as a Slayer. In the end, she settled for direct.
“My whole life, I’ve had to battle monsters, and most of the time I lost. But in my dreams, I’m the Vampire Slayer, The Chosen One, the one girl in all the world with the strength and stamina to defeat the monsters. And I do.”
“Ok, that makes a sort of sense, as coping mechanisms go. But that doesn’t explain why you’re acting a little weirded out right now.”
“The dreams, Riley… they always have a meaning. It’s my brain trying to make sense of everything and showing me what I need to do, right?” She paused to see if he was following her. He appeared to be, so she proceeded. “I had a dream Wednesday morning, and in it I finally told Spike that I loved him. Only, I was too late. We were all about to die and he needed to know so I told him, and I meant it, I really did, but he didn’t believe me. And it means that if I don’t get this right and tell him now, then he won’t believe me.”
Riley looked to be processing everything she’d said. She hoped he understood.
“Wow. Um, ok, I’m really not sure how to respond to that.” Well, at least he was honest.
“Me neither, and that’s the problem!” Buffy flopped down in the chair again.
“Ok,” Riley said again. “Do you want to skip tonight? Try again Tuesday?”
“No,” She was sure of that much. She had to do it sooner rather than later. “I can’t let it be too late again.” She looked up at Riley, hoping to convey her urgency.
“So you do it tonight.” Riley knelt down in front her to, so that he was eye level with her.
“I can’t! I haven’t written anything!” That almost sounded dangerously close to a whine to her own ears.
“You will.” He seemed so confident.
“And if I don’t?” She hesitantly asked.
“You will.”
“How can you be sure?” How *could* he be so sure?
“Because it’s you,” He smiled. “Buffy, you are like no one else in the world. Your passion is like a fire that burns so bright it blinds. And yet, sometimes you are so certain about what you want to do, and you have that calm that makes everything else around you melt away. You can do this, Buffy.”
She smiled. In another time and another place, if she had been a different person, she could have loved him. In time, if she tried, they could have maybe even been happy. But she was who she was. This wasn’t their time. And he place wasn’t with him.
“I’m sorry,” The words slipped out, as her hand cupped his cheek.
His hand came up to press gently against her hand on his check, as hundreds of emotions played across his eyes. Finally, his other hand cupped the back of head, as he pulled her forward and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.
“I know,” He replied. “Now, let’s go tell assface you love him.”
Chapter 39
She walked in behind Riley this time, more than happy to let him take the lead. In fact, maybe she would give him even more room and bigger lead. Yeah, that’s it. Take it nice and slow. Feel out the place a bit as she walked in.
“Buffy?” Riley’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.
“Hmmm?” She looked at him. He was smiling in a way that made her think she was somehow amusing him.
“You’re blocking the door.” Ok, now he looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh at her.
She looked around, and noticed that she was in fact blocking the door and everyone was now looking at her expectantly.
“Sorry, I, um, thought I heard my car alarm,” she smiled apologetically at the growing group behind her and proceeded to quickly catch up to Riley.
“Your car alarm?” Ok, now he was starting to laugh. “You don’t even have a car, Buffy.”
“Oh, shut up, you. What was I supposed to say?” She took off her jacket and threw it over her shoulder. For some reason it seemed really hot inside the club tonight.
“Take it easy, Buffy.” Riley put an arm around her shoulders and started steering her toward a table in the back. “You’re just here to enjoy the evening and say a little poetry, no big deal.”
She shot him a withering glance, which instead made him smile even wider.
“What if he’s not here?” Panic suddenly gripped her.
“Buffy.”
“No! What if I get up there and by some miracle I find the right words, and he’s not even here to hear them?”
“Buffy.”
“I mean, this is like a once in a lifetime thing…”
“Buffy!”
“Oh God, what if I’m too late?”
“Buffy!”
“What if he’s already gone and he never knows I…”
Riley grabbed her head and pulled her to him, and planted a firm kiss on her lips that she hadn’t been expecting. It felt… odd. Not that he wasn’t a good kisser, Riley’s lips were pretty talented, but it just felt odd. Awkward even. Like a kiss that wasn’t meant to be a kiss. A kiss that didn’t want to be a kiss. His kisses had never felt like that. She opened her eyes and looked at Riley in confusion as he ended the kiss and pulled back just a bit and smiled. Wait, he was smiling?
“Sorry. You were rambling and I couldn’t get you to stop long enough to tell you that I saw the owner let him in through the back exit.” He was still smiling. She was still confused.
And then his words sank in. Oh, God. She turned around in her seat looking frantically for him, and for the first time since their little publicly broadcasted tete-a-tete had begun, he wasn’t hard to find. He was standing across the club, looking straight at her. His face held an expression she had never wanted to see again. One that was straight out of her dream.
”No. You don’t, but thanks for saying it.”
She turned back to Riley, horror written on her face.
“Do you know what you’ve done?”
She whipped back around to look for Spike, but he had vanished. She suddenly felt very much like she was drowning, like she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs because they weren’t working.
“No, no, no, no.” She looked back at Riley, only he was a little blurry now and… “Oh god… he’s gone… Riley, he’s gone. He thinks… He’ll never know…”
Hot angry tears came now, searing paths down her face that felt like they would leave scars there. Riley’s hands cupped her face and he looked deep into her eyes and said three very simple sounding words.
“Go… tell… him…”
As the words sank in, she finally understood them. And without a second thought, she took off. She pushed her way through the growing crowd like she was the Slayer after a vampire. She hit the door running, her senses suddenly keen and searching for their target. There! She willed an extra burst of speed into her legs as she saw him, his car just feet ahead of him.
“Spike!” She shouted for all she was worth.
He froze.
As she neared him, she slowed until she was just a few feet away from him, and then suddenly her legs refused to carry her any further. He was still facing away from her. Why hadn’t he turned around? Was she too late?
“Spike?”
Suddenly he whipped around, his coat flaring around his legs before settling around him like armor.
“Don’t!”
She wasn’t sure exactly what she had expected him to say, but that wasn’t it.
“Look, I don’t think I’m up for a round of ‘Kick the Spike’ right now, so why don’t you run back to Iowa in there and resume you’re snogging. I’ll just be on my way…” He finished as he turned back toward his car.
“Spike, wait!”
“Buffy, please, just… go.” Spike strained words floated over his shoulder toward her, and then he took another step… And another… And another… And one more…
It was now or never.
“Three little words”
He froze, hand outstretched, keys poised to slide into the lock.
”Three little words, that’s all they are,
But if you say them with the wrong person, place, or even time
They can split you open and flay your heart
With a sharpness and precision that rivals even the sharpest knife.”
“Buffy….” His voice was a whispered, tortured plea.
”Those three little words have started wars, launched ships,
Carried soldiers through battle and lovers through life.
They’ve inspired poets, made bold the weak, made weak the strong,
And sounded the beginning and ending of countless lives.”
He was looking at her now, and look of both pain and confusion, but also a tiny spark of hope.
”Three little words, carry the weight of the world,
With the power to give and take away the living part of life.
They hide from us, jump out at us, assault us, and wash over us,
Filling us with unending joy, or leave us bleeding salt from our eyes.
Three little words that can mean so many things,
And be said in so many ways, with each having a different meaning.
They can be accepted and rejected, heard but not felt, and felt but not heard.
And the harder I try to find the perfect way, the more I realize I’ve run out of time.”
Of their own free will, her feet began taking her closer to him.
”Because three little words are what you really need to hear,
But if I say them out loud, I can’t be sure you’ll believe
Because your heart will say ‘yes’, but they’re coming from me,
So your brain will say no, they’re just three little words filling out this rhyme.”
She stopped now, just a breath away from him, looking straight up into his eyes.
”But these three little words are coming from my heart and my mind,
And my soul, and my dreams, and hell, even the Slayer is begging you, please,
Hear these three words, and believe them inside, without any doubt,
That I mean every one of these three little words, and I always will for the rest of my life.
His face held a myriad of emotions. Awe, fear, wonder, fear… Was she too late? Had her words been enough to make him believe her this time?
She waited. He swallowed hard, and then cleared his throat as if he was going to say something important.
“Pet, you do realize you didn’t actually say…”
She grabbed his face and not too gently pulled it down to hers until they were nose to nose, locking eyes with him so there could be no doubt here.
“I. Love. You.” She enunciated each word as she said it, and then pulled him in and kissed him. This was no ordinary kiss. She poured every bit of fire and fear and love and need and her soul into this kiss. If lips can sink ships, then hers were going to launch one. She tried to tell him everything she needed to say and everything he needed to hear without actually saying a word. It was an apology, a plea, and a promise, all rolled into one. The question was, would he accept it?
A cacophony of cheers, mixed with whoops, whistles, and clapping interrupted her thoughts, bringing an abrupt end to the kiss. She felt her cheeks flaring red hot and wasn’t sure if it was due to the apparent audience they had, or the kiss itself. She was still clutching his face tightly, afraid that if she let go he might slip away from her again.
“When did we get an audience?” She whispered, resting her forehead against his.
“Guessing they followed us out.”
“Hey, William! Got a response?” Someone from the crowd called. Starting off a chant of, “William! William! William! William!” Until he finally put a hand up in the air, instantly silencing the crowd. He took hold of her shoulders, and pushed her gently, holding them apart, and then stared into her eyes for the longest time. It was a soul gaze, but not one that let her see into his own soul. So she let him. She opened her heart and mind, hoping that he would find what he was looking for, what she wanted him to find.
When the crowd started to get a bit restless, she saw the look in his eyes change, but she still couldn’t quite read it.
He took a deep breath to begin, and she knew that whatever he’d seen, it had made up his mind. And whatever he was about to say, was going to be her moment of fate.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.