Tara left early for class and gave him a kiss on the cheek goodbye. Spike roused himself enough to wish her well and then realized something after she went out the door.
He had gone to bed depressed and woke up angry.
It shocked him a bit. It had been a while since he had allowed himself to feel burning rage. Tara had taught him that anger was a destructive emotion and it was better to channel it in other ways.
He tried tea. He tried yoga. He even meditated for a few frustrated minutes. But the anger wouldn't leave.
He went surfing and the waves couldn't beat the anger back. When he tried to figure out whom he was angry at, he just ended up more confused. He was angry with the Poof for screwing everything up. He was angry at Buffy for things that weren't really her fault and for words she had said that were. And most of all he was angry with himself. For this last part, he wasn't sure why. He kept thinking of ways he could have said things that would have prevented Buffy from learning about the past, and there didn't seem to be anything acceptable. He could have just said he would work with the Poof, but the very idea of being close to him, smelling him, and remembering made his skin crawl.
It was an impossible situation, and Spike wished dearly that it hadn't happened.
It was still full light and there were no demons to pound into powder. He felt a bit off about enjoying the thrill of patrol, Tara wouldn't approve of that. She condoned violence when it was necessary, but she wouldn't be happy if she knew how much he liked it.
So, Spike found another place to vent some physical energy.
He entered the university gym, paid the drop-in fee and set to work trying to exhaust himself into relaxation.
* * *
Riley Finn watched Buffy's friend enter the gym with trepidation, but when the other man didn't even look in his direction, he relaxed.
He was still a little ashamed of his strong come on a few weeks back and he wondered if Buffy had said anything.
Riley watched a bit stunned when the smaller man positioned himself at a weight bench and started piling on the weights like there was no tomorrow.
He started forward as Will was lying down.
“Hey, easy fella. I really think you might want to cut back a bit. You don't want to hurt yourself.” Riley stood next to him a bit nervously. If he got hurt here, would Buffy blame him?
Spike raised an ironic eyebrow, “Don't worry, I won't.”
Riley was about to say something else, when Buffy's friend lifted the bar in a fluid motion and began raising and lowering it with perfect precision.
Riley did a mental tally of the weight total and took a step back. This little guy was bench-pressing six hundred pounds like it was nothing at all.
He doubted he, Forrest, and Graham could lift that much all at once.
He strongly suspected something was wrong. But he brightened when he realized that this would give him a perfect opportunity to talk to Buffy.
* * *
Buffy woke with a start when something ran across her hand. She jumped and nearly fell out of the tree, catching herself just in time. She stared over at a rather nasty looking squirrel.
It stared back.
Buffy watched incredulously as it opened its mouth wide and sent out one of those creepy calls.
Several other squirrels started running up the tree. Buffy was starting to get weirded out.
She glanced into the room that contained her quarry and cursed. Both Spike and Tara were gone. Somehow she had fallen asleep and missed them.
She looked back at the squirrels and noticed there were five of them, all motionless and staring at her.
Buffy got out of the tree in a hurry. She made a mental note to ask Giles about the affects the Hellmouth could have on the rodent population.
She could kill them without feeling guilty if they were demons.
But right now, she had to find Spike.
* * *
After a fruitless morning of searching and two missed classes, Buffy glumly headed back to her dorm. She had to find him and sort all this out. Nothing felt right and she missed him a truly ridiculous amount for the rather short period of time they had been apart.
God was it only last night, she thought. It had been a matter of hours between then and now. Her mind refused to process this. It felt like years.
She had gotten over the shock, that much was clear. And had moved straight into 'I-want-to-make-everything-better' mode. But Spike had wounds that she might not be able to heal. There really was no point in going to her afternoon classes because there was no way she could concentrate. Her mind was centered on Spike-vibes, Spike-worries, Spike-fantasies, and Spike-protective instincts that wouldn't go away.
“Buffy! I'm glad I caught you!” Buffy turned sharply hoping for Spike despite the fact that it wasn't his voice. Her face fell. Oh joy. It was Riley Finn, the weird T.A/shadow.
“I need to talk to you about your friend Will. I think he may be abusing steroids. I saw him in the gym today and there was no way what he was doing was normal for someone his size. I knew someone in my old unit who was doing the same thing. I think if we work together, maybe we can help him.” Riley placed a hand on her shoulder in solidarity and gave her a 'trust me' smile.
Buffy blinked at him. Will?
Oh, God! Spike!
“The gym! Is he still at the gym?” Buffy didn't wait for an answer. She bolted off in the direction of the Student Recreation Center.
“Wait! You really should stage the intervention when he's-“ Riley trailed off when he realized she was long gone.
* * *
Buffy didn't have any trouble finding Spike when she got to the gym. She just walked over to the crowd watching him at a very polite distance.
Spike was at the heavy bag. He was hitting it. A lot.
In fact, the force of his blows had already split the heavy leather covering in several places and some of the stuffing had spilled out. But the gym staff didn't seem all that eager to take it up with him.
In fact, they were all carefully looking the other way.
Buffy pushed her way to the head of the group. Spike was punching away at the pace usually reserved for life and death situations.
To say he looked upset would be like saying Chernobyl was a minor glitch.
Buffy swallowed and stepped closer when he didn't show any signs of slowing.
“Spike?” She ventured. She was rewarded with a halt to the blows. He stood staring at the bag and finally turned to her.
“I'm angry.” He said.
“So I gathered.” Buffy gestured at the all but destroyed piece of equipment. Spike looked at it like he'd never seen it before.
“Can we go somewhere and talk. Please?” Buffy asked quietly.
Spike blinked at her, “I'm angry.” He said, as if she could have missed it before.
“I know. That's one thing we need to talk about.” Buffy sighed in relief when he picked up his discarded t-shirt and donned it.
The crowd gave them a wide berth.
* * *
Buffy led him to their bench and sat down. Spike stood there, staring at her, before joining her.
“I'm sorry.” She said right away.
“I'm sorry I didn't think about why you might not want to work with Angel. I thought it was all about Dru and a bit about me.”
“Some of it was, still is.” Spike said quietly, staring down at the grass. His anger had faded a bit. He actually felt a bit tired. He knew it wasn't the workout. He felt just as angry when he went in right up until he had heard her voice.
“I know, but I should have realized it was deeper than that, that you were deeper than that. I never really thought much about it and I should have but I didn't want to. I'm sorry I said what I did. I'm sorry I took Angel's side when I should have been on yours.” Buffy reached out and took his hand. She held her breath and let it out when he squeezed hers in response.
“I'm sorry he hurt you and I'm sorry I hurt you. I really didn't know, mostly because I chose not to know.”
Spike felt every last bit of anger leave him. No one apologized to him, really, no one but Tara anyway. How could he stay angry with her when she hadn't meant to hurt him? He'd forgiven Dru so many times when she deliberately wounded him.
“I didn't ever want you to know that. I didn't want you to look at me differently and think about that when you touched me. I'm more than I was then and it really doesn't make me who I am. I don't like to think about any of, though. I probably never will. And he's just one big reminder.”
Spike licked his lips and continued, “He smells the same, even though he has the soul. He has the same looks and the same feel and no matter how hard I try to convince myself, I still think they are the same thing. I know you don't and maybe you never will. But don't expect me to want him around.”
The last statement had a final note to it that Buffy accepted, “I know, I promise I won't ever try to make you ever again. I think I've started to think about a lot of things differently when I started going out with you and this was a pretty big smack in the side of the head.”
Buffy smiled nervously at him, “Are we O.K? Can we be O.K?”
Spike smiled back, it was still a bit pained, but it was real. He really wanted them to be O.K. He wanted her to look at him the way she did that made him feel infinite. He wanted her to understand him, maybe not as well as Tara could, but she might even manage that in time. And he wanted to know her as well as she knew herself.
“Yeah, love. I think we can be O.K” He was taken off guard when she leaned in and kissed him soundly. His world tilted off axis, like it always did around her and he finally felt the nervous tension in his body relax.
* * *
Angel had been to Hell. He had spent five hundred years there.
This, quite frankly, was comparable.
He realized the blood was drugged and promptly stopped drinking it. That and the thought that he was being fed on a timer like a lab animal.
Then he realized that that's just what he had become to these people. A creature to be experimented on and to be given pain and his responses to it measured. Then to be destroyed when he had outlived his usefulness.
He wasn't healing because he was no longer feeding. He debated which would be worse; the drugged haze or the pain he was left in without it.
He looked down at the growing mass of scars and picked up the blood bag.
* * *
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