Title: In the Mind

Challenge: #69

Disclaimer:  I own nothing here but my own imagination  Joss is friggin’ God of the Buffyverse and I am a lowly wannabe-God-peasant-type-person

Setting: Post ‘The Gift’, post AU ‘Prophecy Girl’.

Summary: When Buffy leaps from the tower at the end of her twentieth year of life, she expects nothing less than death. Peace. Instead she wakes up in a place where her friends believe her to be insane and a dangerous enemy wants her dead. How will she react when she finds out she wasn’t the one who killed the Master? And everything she knows is a lie...


CHAPTER ONE: Into the light

  Tears, streaming down her face.

  Eyes hollow with realisation.

  “Buffy... No!” she pleads.

  “Dawnie I have to.” the Slayer replies, grasping her sister’s shoulders.

  “No!” Dawn cries, shaking her head, trying to deny the situation for all she is worth.

  “Dawn listen to me,” Buffy begs, “Please, there’s not a lot of time. Listen.”

  Dawn’s eyes are widening with the implications of exactly what’s about to go down.

  “I love you,” Buffy says, her eyes swarming with the emotion, “I will always... Love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles...” she pauses for a moment, realising this will be the final words of understanding and compassion that she can pass on to her friends, “Tell Giles I figured it out. And... And I’m okay.” she closes her eyes slightly, feeling as if the weight of responsibility is already lifting from her shoulders. “And give my love to my friends,” she continues, “You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other.” she smiles, “You have to be strong. Dawn... The hardest thing in this world is to live in it... Be brave. Live.” her eyes are glittering as she realises her new found freedom. “For me.”

  The Slayer, older than her years, stands for just a moment, absorbing every aspect that is her baby sister.

  She looks so young and sad as a lonely tear zig zags its way down her cheek. There’s an empty look in her eyes, like a lost little lamb who doesn’t want to be left to face the world all alone.

  But Buffy knows that her sister will never be alone. As long as Spike and the Scoobies live; Dawn will never go unprotected.

  She reaches for her then; extending her fingers to run them softly through the long brown hair that falls straight as icicles around the young girl’s shoulders. Her fingers weave through the soft strands and she pulls her sister toward her, pressing her lips tenderly to her cheek.

  Then she gazes into her eyes for one last time, before turning away and breaking out into a powerful run, facing the bursting ball of energy that befalls her.

  She can hear Dawn’s choked sobs as she leaps gracefully into the light.

  Light... and warm.

  The feeling surrounds her until she feels consumed by the light. Happy... and safe... and bright.

  Ouch.

  She has to close her eyes.

  The light is burning.

  She screws her eyes up tight, then slowly opens them again and- ouch!

  Her eyes snap shut.

  The falling sensation is gone.

  She can’t understand where she is or why she feels so still and hollow.

  ‘Am I dead?’ she wonders.

  ‘Is this Hell?’

  But the light, so bright that it fills her conscious and burns through her closed eye lids, it flickers like a weak over head lamp.

  Then she hears it; a gentle ‘beep... beep’, steady and calming.

  It matches her breathing.

  She’s breathing; she’s alive.

  She isn’t in Hell.

  The jump didn’t kill her.

  The long list of realisations dawn upon her one after another. She feels her chest rising and falling at a steady rate and again, she tries again to open her eyes.

  The blinding light confuses her. It feels the same; the same as the light that was supposed to kill her. Supposed to absorb her and take away all the pain of responsibility, of having to be an adult and the Slayer.

  A choked sob escapes her chapped and broken lips as the beeping of the machine alters.
 
  “Bright...” she whispers, “Too bright...”

  She hears hushed voices all around her and suddenly the lights are gone.

  Then somebody is speaking to her. The voice is female but sounds as if it’s coming to her through a thickly insulated wall. She can’t understand the words; muffled and hollow to her ears.

  She strains to make out the voice, her eyelids fluttering in the process.

  She feels a clammy hand in hers.

  It brings back the cold reality of her current situation.

  Slayer lives to face another day.

  Again.

  Before she’s even opened her eyes; tears are seeping from them. Hot; they burn her like acid as they curl out from beneath her matted eye lashes.

  She gasps a deep sob and grasps down on the hand that is wrapped around her own.

  “Buffy?” she recognises her own name; but not the voice speaking and it only makes her sob more.

  “Why, why, why...” she mutters, pulling the hand toward her chest and forcing it down above her heart, “Why is it beating?”

  She keeps her eyes closed; comforted momentarily by the darkness.

  Dark like a coffin in the ground.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she whispers. “I wanted... I was ready...”

  “Shh...” the voice is soothing and familiar but it doesn’t calm the Slayer who fell so close to death; only to be pulled back into the cold world once more.

  Slowly, slowly she opens her eyes and looks up into the face; shrouded by darkness above her.

  “There you are baby.” says the gentle voice.

  For a moment Buffy just stares; eyes wide and cold with icy tears as she stares into the daunting face; half cast in shadow and half illuminated by a pale blue night light.

  Then she screams; loud, high and shrill; pushing the strange apparition as far away from her as she can manage.

  She sits up in terror, pulling the starch white hospital blankets around her chest and backing herself against the steel head board as her eyes shoot around the dimly lit room.

  She recognises the faces of her friends; strange and distorted by the low, flickering light.

  And the... thing... laying on the floor, sitting up slowly.

  “Lights. Lights. Lights.” Buffy chants; watching as Xander flies over to the light switch; slamming his hand down on the white button; flooding the room with the same bright, white glow. Harsh and biting back into her closed eye lids as she balls her fists into her grimy eyes, trying to block out the harsh light.

  She hears someone approach her cautiously.

  “Buffy?” Giles’ voice.

  He rests his hand slowly onto her forearm.

  “Are you okay?” Willow’s voice floats into her conscious.

  Slowly, Buffy pulls away her hands, opening her bleary eyes and blinking rapidly as she tries to clear the blind spot left by the huge ball of energy she was facing just moments ago.

  “I...” her voice sounds weak and grates like sand paper against the back of her throat.

  Her lungs hurt and her chest feels heavy.

  Her friends are looking at her. Xander, Willow, Giles and... the thing.

  She watches as it gets slowly back to its feet, looking at Buffy cautiously.

  Willow turns to look at the thing, offering her hand to support it as it approaches Buffy again.

  “Baby?” it uses her voice.

  Wears her clothes.

  Sees through her eyes.

  And looks just like her.

  But it’s not her; because she’s dead.

  “Stay away from me,” she says, “You’re not my mother.”

  The creature’s jaw drops in unmasked horror, eyes widening as it stares at the Slayer, hunched up on the starched white bed.

  “My mother’s dead.”

  “Buffy!” Willow cries as Joyce stumbles backwards, away from her daughter. “What’s wrong with you? Your Mom’s not dead!”

  Buffy stares at the red-head. Her best friend.

  ‘Why is she lying to me?’ her mind is screaming.

  “Dead... Dead,” she mutters, “Come home; mom’s dead on the sofa. Try... Try to make her live but... But something cracks. Eyes are open. Body... Body... Tell Giles not to move the body...”

  “Willow get the doctor,” Giles says in a low voice, unable to tear his eyes away from his muttering charge. Arms wrapped around herself, she rocks back and forth.

  “Dawn... Dawn... Be back before Dawn...”

  Willow runs from the room.

  “Dawn... Gotta take care of Dawn... Don’t let them take her away from me... Gotta take care of her now... Now mom’s dead... Dead like me... Dead like I am.”

  Giles takes a tentative step toward her.

  “Buffy?” he asks.

  Her head snaps up.

  “Giles,” she says, “Why am I alive? I was so sure this time.”

  “Buffy listen to me,” he says, “There was an accident. You’ve been in a coma for eight months-”

  “Seven months and thirty days.” Xander corrects, his serious eyes locked on his best friend’s face. He loves her; seeing her like this is painful.

  “Seven...” Buffy’s eyes are wide, “How? I...”

  She looks at the creature pretending to be Joyce who has backed herself into a corner, staring at Buffy with wide eyes.

  “I don’t understand...” Buffy whispers, shaking her head.

  “Buffy, the accident,” Giles says, “What do you remember?”

  A question she can answer.

  Still clear in her mind.

  “Dawn...” she says, “End of the world... You wanted me to kill Dawn... Spike... Help... Buffybot... Glory... Glory wanted to end the world... Use Dawn’s blood... Always got to be blood... Summers blood... Just like mine- made out of me... Death is your gift... Jumped- I had to. Knew I would die. Had to jump... Had to jump... Let Dawn live... Live for me...”

  Giles looks over at Xander whose eyes are widened with horror.

  “Giles, what’s wrong with her?” the boy asks in a hushed voice.

  “I don’t know,” Giles replies, “She must be... Suffering the after effects-”

  Suddenly the door crashes open and Willow runs back in, followed by an elderly looking man.

  Buffy’s eyes widen when she sees the needle in his hand.

  “Just a sedative,” she hears him say, “Calm her down a bit.”

  “But she only just woke up,” Xander’s voice sounds frantic.

  “She’s not herself right now Xander,” says Giles, “The doctor knows what he’s doing.”

  “She’ll be restrained when she comes around,” the doctor says, flicking the needle as he approaches the Slayer, paralysed by fear, “Don’t want her hurting herself,” she looks over at Joyce, “Or somebody else.”

  He pulls Buffy’s arm roughly and pierces the needle into her flesh, pushing the cold liquid into her blood stream.

  “I think we need to talk about what happened to this girl.” are the last words that Buffy hears before her eyes roll back into her head and darkness consumes her.

.................................................

  “Ooh, my poet... The Slayer wakes,” the soft voice floats toward Spike who looks over at his approaching princess.

  “Slayer’s awake?” he asks, “’Bout bloody time.”

  “Oh- but my William- she is not the same,” Drusilla whispers, leaning in toward his ear and breathing unneeded breaths against his neck, “She is from another place. My Spike; she knows you.” the dark vampire lets out a small gasp, “She will not be ready for you my love. She thinks of you as someone to mock. Oh- but you will change that Spike; you will change her.” she sighs, climbing onto his lap, “I see it; I see it all now. It wasn’t your fault; the whispers lie about my Spike.”

  “Slayer’s gonna get a shock when she meets you and I, pet,” he says, “Slayer’s gonna-”

  “Buffy.” Dru says, catching him off-guard. “Buffy. You call her Buffy. She knows us Spike... She wants you to kill princess.”

  Spike brushes hair away from his lover’s face, then places a finger against her lips.

  “Hush love,” he says, “No one’s killing princess. No one.”

  “You can kill this one Spike,” Dru tells him, closing her eyes as she leans against him, “No one else believes her; no one but princess knows that she is telling the truth. Pump her full of cold liquid to keep her voice quiet; don’t want to hear about dawn; dawn rises when we die Spike.”

  “She still in Sunnydale?” Spike asks, cradling his sire against his chest.

  “Sunnydale yes; but it’s not the world she left behind.” she lets out a small, gleeful laugh. “All along the truth; but they’ll not believe her.”

.................................................

  Giles sighs as he sips from his coffee; pulling a face.

  “Believe me,” the doctor says, “I’ve lived in this town long enough to know things aren’t always what they seem.”

  “One and a half years and I can agree with you there,” Joyce says, rubbing her eyes.

  “Tell me what happened to this girl.” the doctor persists.

  Xander and Willow look at each other. Willow’s cheeks are streaked with fearful tears.

  She and Xander have spent so long waiting for their friend to wake up from her coma that it all seems so unreal to them now.

  “She’s the vampire Slayer.” Giles states simply. “She was called at age fifteen to fight demons and vampires.” he lets out a bitter laugh, “Save the world.”

  Joyce looks less than surprised by the revelation.

  The doctor merely nods, muttering about how he had assumed something of the sort.

  “Seven months, thirty days ago, Buffy fulfilled an ancient prophecy proclaiming her death at the hands of a vampire known as the Master.” Giles continues, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his face vigorously. It’s been a long few months and the effects of time have lain heavy on the old Watcher’s shoulders. “He drank from her then discarded her unconscious body in a pool of water. Moments later, Xander here performed CPR but unfortunately she had slipped into a coma. Seven months, thirty days later; here we are.”

  Again; neither Joyce nor the doctor look particularly shocked. Eight months is a long time to figure over and draw your own conclusions after all.

  “And this... Master-” Joyce asks, “What happened to him?”

  Giles pushes his glasses back on; looking over at his young friends who look aged and grimy from their ordeal.

  “A stranger.” he says, “A vampire called Spike.”

  Xander feels Willow shudder at the mention of the evil creature’s name.

  “He came offering help. Angel told us... Told us that he couldn’t be trusted but... The world was falling apart and we had no choice. Spike- he told us that he likes this world- likes being able to kill what he wants, when he wants- so he offered to help us defeat the Master. Save the world.” Giles shakes his head, taking another gulp of his coffee. “He wasn’t strong enough to challenge the Master; no one was; so he convinced us to invoke him with an ancient power. It made him strong; much stronger than we could have imagined. He killed the Master in such a short time it would have been amusing under any other circumstances.” the old Watcher looks again at his young friends, an apologetic look on his face, “But then Spike found out about Buffy’s condition and he left us with a promise. He said that as soon as she wakes from her coma he will take her on in a fight; tear her apart; just to reset the balance between good and evil. And we haven’t seen the vermin since.”

  “Now, now, Watcher. That’s not a very nice way to talk about your hero is it?” the British drawl comes from the doorway and everyone turns to stare at the peroxide blond. Standing straight; he looks menacing and calm. “Now- someone gonna show me where Slayer’s waiting for me to fulfil my promise.”

  “Which is why,” Giles continues, keeping his eyes locked on the threatening vampire, “We need to make sure Buffy gets better as quickly as possible.”

  “I understand.” the doctor replies, also staring at Spike who is sucking in his cheekbones with annoyance.

  “So,” the blond says, “Slayer’s not well. Guess I might just have to put the girl out of her misery.”

  “You stay the Hell away from my daughter,” Joyce says, “Or I swear by God-”

  “So you’ll be ‘er mum then,” he says, “It’s cute,” he adds, “Threatening me an’ all; even after hearing the tale of my power-boost.”

  “You hurt my daughter and I’ll-”

  “He’s not touching Buffy.”

  Everyone turns to loom at Angel as he breezes into the room.

  “Spike,” he says, “Thought we told you not to come back here.”

  “Uh- yeah,” says Spike, raising an eyebrow, “And since when did I ever listen to you Angelus?”

  “You should have,” Angel says, “Buffy’s going to kill you.”

  “Remember Drusilla,” Spike asks, crossing his arms, “Well she has a little thing we like to call ‘second sight’. She knows. She told me. Your Slayer came back wrong.”

...............................................
A/N: First chapter- hope you liked! I thought making Spike super-strong and Buffy extra-weak would make an interesting change Biteyness! Please review!CHAPTER TWO: Conversations with insane people

  Dawn.

  She smiles as she burns; her fingers reaching out for her sister as she falls backwards into the blazing blue energy.

  Smiles as Joyce joins her; embracing her as they fall.

  And all Buffy can do is watch. Watch as Spike leaps after them, joining them in their warm descent.

  They wave at her as they disintegrate; leaving her behind again.

  Taking the gift meant for the Slayer and using it all up.

  Stealing her death.

  Forcing her to live again.

  And Buffy wants to jump too; to follow her mother and the key, but all the blue energy is gone and Giles is calling to her to come and help him and the Scoobies clean up.

  “Buffy!” he calls, “This is your sacred duty as a cleaner; don’t ignore me!”

  “Buffy...”

  Flash.

  Her eyes snap open and she stares up at the bleached white ceiling.

  “Buffy...”

  She hears someone speaking her name and she tries to turn to face the stranger.

  That’s when she feels the straps holding her down.

  Tilting her head slightly, she stares down at the brown, leather straps pulled tight over her arms, chest and legs. Her eyes go wide with fear as she squirms.

  Tears stream down her cheeks as panic takes a grip of her.

  Can’t fight.

  Can’t move.

  Can’t breath.

  Oh God- Can’t breath.

  “Help me!” she rasps.

  A face moves into view. Who is it? She doesn’t know.

  “Miss Summers, my name is Dr Phillips. Do you know where you are?”

  Buffy shakes her head, eyes closed as she tries to deny it again. She didn’t survive; she couldn’t have.

  “Hell.” she says, “Am I in Hell?”

  “No Buffy, you’re in the Sunnydale memorial hospital. There was an accident; do you remember any of it?”

  She squints up at him.

  “Accident?” she asks. “It wasn’t an accident. It was a sacrifice. I chose to die; why am I still here?”

  “It was an accident Buffy,” he assures her, “There was a fight; do you remember a fight?”

  “Glory.” Buffy agrees, “She’s a God; I hit her with the Troll God’s hammer again and again and again but it didn’t matter. In the end it wasn’t even Glory who opened the portal.”

  “No Buffy that’s not what happened,” he says, “The Master- do you remember the Master?”

  Buffy narrows her eyes up at the man.

  “Master?” she asks, “Yes. He killed me. Xander brought me back.”

  “Yes Buffy- that’s right,” the doctor says enthusiastically, “Do you remember anything else?”

  “Angelous.” she says, “Mayor’s ascension, Adam and the Initiative, Glory.”

  He gives her a strange look.

  “Can you explain what you mean?” he asks. Buffy looks at him fearfully. “It’s okay,” he adds, “I know that you’re the Slayer. I just want to help you Buffy.”

  “Angelous.” she says, “He was my boyfriend but he turned evil and I had to send him to Hell.”

  From behind the one way glass, Joyce, Angel, Giles, Xander and Willow listen to Buffy speak with wide, confused eyes.

  “The mayor was evil and he became a snake so we blew him and the school up.” Buffy smiles, feeling better as she recalls the familiar events, “Riley was my commando boyfriend and he was part of the Initiative who made Adam. He was an evil Frankenstein and I couldn’t defeat him. In the end Xander, Willow, Giles and I all combined together to make a super Buffy and together we killed him.”

  Xander, Willow and Giles all look at each other with empty expressions.

  “Glory wanted the key. My sister Dawn is the key. Glory wanted to kill Dawn to open a portal to her own world and to close the portal, Dawn’s blood had to stop flowing. We share the same blood so I sacrificed myself instead. I thought I would die but... But I woke up here...”

  “That’s...” the doctor searches for words, “And all this happened before you met the Master?”

  “What?” Buffy asks, “No- that was years ago. He killed me then I killed him.”

  The doctor nods.

  “I see.”

..........................................................

  Giles shakes his head as the doctor steps into the room.

  “Any of it?” the doctor asks.

  Giles shakes his head again, “No. None of that has ever happened.” he says.

  “So... What does this mean?” Willow asks.
 
  “Not good I’ll bet,” says Xander, “I mean... The stuff she was saying; it seemed so... So bizarre; even for the Vampire Slayer.”

  “And for her to be saying it,” Angel adds in a low voice, “Like she actually believes all of that has happened.”

  “And didn’t she say that she killed the Master?” asks Willow.

  “I’ve seen this.” the doctor says quietly, winning everyone’s attention with three simple words. “Patients who fall into a coma for a long time sometimes... It seems she may have continued what she believes to be her real life... Inside her own head...”

  Xander looks up sharply, the words hitting him first.

  “So what- you’re saying she’s insane?” he demands.

  “No, not at all.” the doctor replies quickly, “Just confused. Very confused. It will take a Hell of a lot to convince her she’s not the person she thinks she is; she’s not the person who killed the Master.”

  He looks to Joyce.

  “The sister...” he says, “Buffy spoke about a sister- Dawn?”

  Joyce’s face is ashen white.

  “Buffy’s my only child.” she says.

  “So the story she’s built for herself,” he says, “Has changed drastically from her real life.”

  “But how could she do that?” asks Willow, “How could she just add a sister to her life story?”

  “Buffy’s a special girl,” replies the doctor, “I’m sure there’s some magical reasoning behind her ‘sister’... Whatever it is... We shouldn’t encourage her to talk about it. It won’t be healthy for her to believe the world she’s been in is anything other than psychological.”

  “So we don’t ask?” says Xander, “What if she tries to tell us?”

  “We tell her it’s not real.” says Giles. “We reinforce the truth.”

  “I get it.” says Willow, “Seven months and thirty days. Years must have passed in her mind. I wonder if she kept us in her world.”

  “She did.” says the doctor. “You heard her speak about the demons she has fought with you.” he sighs. “Whatever happens, remember that she’s not crazy. It’s not her fault she fell into a coma.”

  “Does she have to be kept restrained?” Angel asks, his fists balling slightly.

  “For now, I’m afraid.” the doctor replies, “Just until she realises what’s really happening. I shouldn’t worry.” he adds, “She’s a strong girl... You can see her now.”

......................................................

  “Dawn?” asks Buffy as the door opens. She cranes her neck to see who has entered the room but they stand just out of view. “Please; I just want to see my sister.”

  “So it’s true.” says an unfamiliar voice. “Slayer’s mine for the taking.”

  Buffy stiffens as she feels the nasty approach.

  “Who are you?” she asks, “Stay back- I swear-”

  “Swear what?” asks the voice, “Gonna stake me? I think you’re a bit too restrained for that.” he lets out a small chuckle, still staying out of sight, “Did you know your friends think you’re insane. D’you really believe you killed the Master?”

  “I...” Buffy furrows her brow, “I did kill the Master.”

  “Yeah- sure.” says the voice, “I don’t think that’s what I heard.”

  “What are you talking about?” Buffy demands, trying to keep herself calm, “Explain yourself!”

  “Well- I was eavesdropping- you know, evil and all- the good doc was telling your friends about how you’ve spent your entire coma building a fantasy life for yourself. Believe you have a sister, believe you killed the Master.”

  Buffy tries to make her voice sound unimpressed. “How about- do have a sister- did kill the Master.”

  “So you really are the first insane Slayer then,” he says, “Do you even know what year it is?”

  “2001.” she says, annoyed that he would take the piss out of her so much.

  “1998.” he corrects. “Guess you’re in trouble now.”

  Buffy feels her jaw drop- 1998?

  Suddenly the hideous face is in view and the fangs are headed straight for her jugular.

  Door slams open.

  Dust falls down over the Slayer.

  She opens her eyes and looks straight up at Angel who shoves his stake back into his pocket.

  “Hey Buff,” he says, smiling down at her, pretending to see past the restraints and crazed expression, “Long time no see.”

  Slowly Buffy shakes her head, her damp blond hair falling around her grimy face like a frame.

  “Angel... What’re you doing here?” she asks in a quiet voice. “I... I didn’t know you were back in Sunnydale.”

  He takes a deep breath; horrified at being presented by the fact that he is clearly not a part of Buffy’s fantasy world. Horrified that his once strong Slayer should have a fantasy world at all.

  “Buffy; I’ve been here all along.” he says. “Same as you.”

  “LA,” she reminds him, “With Cordy and Wes. I’m not stupid.”

  “Cordy?” he asks, “Wes? Buffy; I don’t know these people.”

  She gives him a puzzled look.

  “Angel- what’s wrong with you?” she asks, quickly adding; “Are you evil again?”

  “What? No I’m not evil,” he says. “Again?”

  “Where is everyone?” she persists, “Where am I? Why am I restrained? Why did that vamp just tell me it’s 1998 and I’m really just insane? Why isn’t Dawn here? And why... Why didn’t I die?”

  “Buffy I...” Angel’s voice sounds quiet and defeated.

  Again the door opens and Buffy looks up to see Xander, Willow, Giles and the creature posing as Joyce enter.

  As soon as she sees her mother’s kind face Buffy feels herself slip into a panic. She struggles against the leather straps in her desperation to move away from the creature that looks so much like her loving-dead-mother.

  “Please make it go away,” she whispers, looking directly at Joyce.

  “I wish I could baby,” it says. Using her voice.

  Buffy utters a tiny cry.

  “Don’t let it speak to me. Oh God; I wish my mom was here.”

  “I’m right here sweetheart.” her voice is so soft and familiar.

  “But it can’t be you.” Buffy whispers, “You died... I... I remember. I found you- on the sofa in the sitting room. Eyes open.”

  Joyce breaths in sharply, gulping in the required air.

  “Baby- that never happened,” she says, “I’m fine; mommy’s fine.”

  “But I-”

  “It was a dream Buffy,” says Giles, stepping into the conversation; seeing the obvious distress Joyce is facing. “Everything that comes after facing the Master in your memory... Isn’t real. Do you... Do you remember fighting the Master?”

  “Yes.” she says, “Twice. He won and killed me; then I won and killed him.”

  Willow takes a step toward Buffy, reaching for Xander’s hand as she walks to face her best friend, the Slayer, Buffy, strapped to her bed like an animal or savage.

  “Please Buffy,” she says, “For you to get better you’ll have to forget everything you think you know; accept that it’s not real.”

  “It’s 1998 and you’ve been in a coma for seven months and thirty days; since you faced the Master,” continues Xander, “Whatever’s happened to you... Well... Hasn’t.”

  The words hit her like a ton of bricks.

  “No...” she whispers. “No... You guys; this is my life...”

  She stares up at them with wide eyes full of tears.

  “It can’t have all been in my mind; I’m not crazy; I swear you guys. It’s not me- you must have forgotten.”

  Xander holds his newspaper before the restrained Slayer’s eyes.

  February 25th, 1998.

  1998.

  1998.

  “But...” she says, “Things that have happened... People we’ve... I’ve met...They’re not real?”

  Her friends don’t know what to tell her. All they can do is watch as the tears begin to seep down her cheeks again.

  “Riley?” she asks, “Is Riley real? And Tara?... Anya? She must be, I mean... Oh God...” she chokes for a moment as she thinks of someone.

  Someone who makes her life easier. Treats her like an equal; a worthy rival and a trusted companion. Someone who fell in love with the person she really is. Someone whom she hates and despises; but never tells her she’s worthless or stupid. Someone who always allows her to unleash her anger on him even when he doesn’t deserve it.

  Someone who’s always been there like a safety net she doesn’t need, but feels reassured by.

  The one who risked everyone to keep her baby sister’s identity a secret.

  The one she shouldn’t even care about right now; should be glad that he doesn’t exist after all; not care at all that he won’t just... Be there.

  “Spike...” she whispers, “Is he a figment of my imagination too?”

  Willow jolts, taking a step back from the bed and walking straight into Xander who holds her still. Giles’ eyes widen at the sound of the evil being’s name, and Angel visibly stiffens.

  “Spike?” she says again, “I... I don’t want him to not...”

  “Bleach blond hair?” asks Xander, “English vampire?”

  “Slayer of Slayers,” she agrees, “Killed two in his time. Sired by Drusilla?”

  Silently her heart is screaming; please, please let him be real! I need the one who I’m allowed to hate; I need that or I’ll go crazy...er.

  She looks at her friend’s scared faces.

  “How could she...?” asks Willow, turning to Giles.

  “Slayer,” he says gently, “She has prophetic dreams. I suppose we can assume that part of her coma was prophetic in that respect.”

  “Spike’s real?” Buffy asks hopefully, blinking back tears “He exists?”

  “We...” Giles looks around, “We can’t be certain the vampire you know from your coma is the same vampire who stopped the Master.”

  “Stopped the Master?” she asks, “Spike?”

  “About a week after you were comatosed,” says Giles, “He came moaning about how he likes this world.”

  “Happy meals on legs or something like that,” adds Willow.

  Buffy has the desire to sit up but the restraints hold her firmly in place.

  Having just heard that nothing from her life is real; the relief at finding one real aspect is almost over-whelming.

  “He’s real,” she says aloud, “I can’t believe... He’s really real? Really real. Real Spike. Spike who loves me. Spike who wants me and loves me. Spike. He’s real. Real, real, real. He’s real.”

  Xander’s mouth drops open in horror and he grabs hold of Willow as she trips in another attempt to back away from the truly crazy Slayer.

  “Oh dear Lord...” says Giles.

.............................................................................

A/N: Not much Spikey yet; I’m waiting for the perfect opportunity to bring our two favourite blonds together in the most effective way! Hope you liked- lots of ‘crazy’ Buffy! Please review- thank you!
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CHAPTER THREE: Nameless Exchange

“Ohh Spike,” coos Drusilla, “Your time is nearing. She speaks your name in sunshine my love; she will not be prepared for who you are.”

“She will not,” Spike agrees, “And we will dance in the Slayer’s blood- Love.”

.............................................................................

Spike stares at the body lying before him; so perfect and unmarred, more beautiful than he’s ever seen her before.

With a smile on her face, she truly looks like she’s finally at peace. Sleeping. In a better place.

The sun is rising but he barely notices.

It’s not even until Dawn pulls him into a comforting hug that he realises he’s crying.

Crying. Weeping like a baby over the body of his sworn enemy.

Wishing more than anything that she could have loved him.

“Spike; we need to get you out of here.” he doesn’t recognise the voice.

Xander’s face looks bleary and foreign to him when he turns to stare into the boy’s eyes.

“Buffy...” Spike says.

“She’s gone,” the whelp’s voice is full of pain and Spike wants to run to her body.

But an insistent hand on his shoulder propels him into the safety of shadow. Not that he cares.

She’s dead.

Gone.

Cold, like she was never meant to be.

What does any of it even matter without her? Without her warm smile and her harsh words; each one like a knife wound to the gullet.

“Spike?”

Dawn.

Then he knows.

He will always carry on.

For Dawn, for the Scoobies, for himself.

But most importantly.

For her.

Because it’s what she would’ve wanted.

Spike; fighting to the very end. A good man; even without his failed love.

.........................................................

“I’m going.” Spike says, lifting Drusilla from his lap and placing her steadily on her feet. “Back to the hospital. Tonight.”

He smiles as Drusilla squeals with delight.

“Oh; we’ll be having sugar cubes for tea my love,” she says, “And we can put our sugar into her blood and watch the crystals turn red.”

“That we can,” he agrees, pushing her hair away from her face and pressing his lips down against hers. “Love you.” he growls into their kiss; causing his sire to giggle like a child.

“Oh- my William,” she says, “You do not know.”

.........................................................

Buffy tries to roll over in her sleeps but thick, leather straps hold her firmly in place. She strains against them and they cut into the delicate flesh of her arms.

In her dreams she sees the real world; Dawn, Xander, Willow, Tara, Anya, Giles, Spike.

Her eyes snap open.

He’s near. She knows. She can feel him.

“Spike...” she whispers.

The darkness that’s all around her frightens the Slayer.

It hasn’t been dark for a long time but now the lights are all gone.

It’s night and her tiny holding room has no windows to the outside world. The thick door in closed, but unlocked, since there’s no way for her to escape anyway.

And she’s drugged. Heavily drugged. Something to sleep to; it makes her eyelids heavy but she refuses to succumb to the thick liquids demands as it seeps around her veins.

Just like she refuses to believe that everything she knows was just one long dream.

And she can’t understand why her friends are refusing to believe her.

She feels so lost.

For the first time she wants to be alive; really alive.

And this right now... This isn’t living.

The door is opened gently and Buffy strains to see the dark shape moving into the darker room. For a moment, whoever it is becomes a dark silhouette against the low light of the hospital corridor outside of her room, but then the door is closed with a click and the figure blends into the dark.

“W... Who’s there?” she calls out in what ends up being a tentative sounding whisper.

Her words invoke a low chuckle that she recognises.

“Spike.” she says, relief in her voice, “I knew you would come. God; can you get me out of these restraints.”

The only audible reaction given from the blond vampire is a small click.

After just a few seconds, Buffy jolts against the leather, recognising the sound as a key turning in a lock.

“Spike?” she asks, “Where are you? You’re scaring me.”

“Was the idea pet,” he says, “Gonna tell me how you know my name? I wouldn’t have thought your little mates would want to scare you so soon after waking from your coma.”

“I...” she doesn’t want to tell him. “Why are you here?”

“Slayer,” he says in a mocking tone. “When I heard you were strapped to a bed, neck fully exposed and no one even bothering to protect you- I was hardly going to stay away was I?”

“Where is everyone?” she demands, horrified by the fact that they aren’t near by like she requested they be.

“Oh, I’d say they’re probably waking up right about now,” says Spike, “It won’t take ‘em long to get out of the closet I stuffed them in. Good thing this door has a lock. Means I can take my time with you Love.”

Buffy shivers at his use of the word; so reminiscent of the Spike she knows.

Spike mistakes her shiver for a sign of fear and his smile widens, giving Buffy a glint of his fangs.

“Kinda funny,” he says, “How they got you all strapped down... Like they wanted you defenceless. Knew I was coming for you; but did they warn you?”

“Actually- yes.” Buffy says, struggling to keep her voice sounding calm.

He laughs.

“Obviously,” he says, “You’re more crazy than Dru.”

“I am not!” Buffy exclaims; hating being compared to his ex. “Wait a minute... You and Dru... Are you still together?”

“Of course!” he says, a slight laugh in his voice, “She’s my bleedin’ Sire!”

“I know,” Buffy says, quietly missing the Spike she knows already.

She wonders how he took her death; if he cared... If he cried. Hell- she hates him as much as she can but she knows... If he died she would cry because... Because everything would change. And because... He just wouldn’t be there anymore. Nothing but ashes.

She wonders what happened to her body. Is it dust, just like a vampire? Was it broken and bloody? Were her eyes closed when they found her? Was her neck bent at a strange angle?

“Are you always this absent?” demands the cold voice and Buffy jolts again when she remembers that none of it was real anyway. Just one long, long dream.

“Not real. Not real.” tears jump into her eyes.

“Bloody Hell.” Spike moans. Buffy feels his hand around her neck.

Cold reality.

The Spike she knew... Wasn’t real.

This Spike; the deadly Spike. The Spike who wants to kill and rip and destroy her; not kiss and hold and care for her. Not that she would ever let him.

“Any final requests Slayer?” he asks as he prepares to snap her neck the same way he did his second Slayer in.

“Please...” She whispers, “Just for tonight... Please call me Buffy... Like you used to...”

Her words make him falter. Purely out of curiosity, he pulls one of his hands away from her soft neck, keeping the other one poised just above her jugular like a warning.

“Used to?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Eyes adjusting; Buffy can almost make out the familiar peroxide blond hair, slicked back dangerously.

“When we met before.” she says. “It was always ‘Slayer’ but then... I guess things changed.”

“What the Hell are you talking about?” he asks in a warning voice.

The sound of his voice sets her teeth on edge. She closes her eyes.

“You mean- you haven’t heard?” Buffy asks. “Eight months they tell me I’ve been in a coma. In my memory though... I killed the Master four years ago.” she looks up sharply trying to catch a reaction but his eyes are too dark to see. “I met you a few months after I killed the Master. You wanted to kill me. We fought a lot; I kicked your ass a Hell of a lot-”

“Insane.” Spike mutters.

“It’s the common conclusion.” Buffy agrees. “Apparently I’ve been living my life out in my own mind. I guess that’s a fancy way of saying I’m insane.”

Spike chuckles, lowering his hand back to her neck.

“Gotta give yourself some credit,” he says, “You managed to buy yourself some extra few minutes. Now it’s back to the killing though.”

“Will it be quick?” Buffy asks, “You once promised me...”

He takes his hand away and slips into game-face.

“I don’t think so.” he says, “Thanks for the idea. We have all night; I think I’ll have some fun with this.”

“Please...” she says, “The Spike I knew would never kill the Slayer when she can’t fight back. Where’s the fun in that? Why don’t you let me free so I can fight back?”

He chuckles.

“Nice try Slayer, but really, no.” he grabs her shoulder and looks down at her. Through his enhanced vision he can see her face.

Damn; she’s pretty.

Blond, green eyes, soft features.

But she looks tired and there’s a fearful acceptance on her face.

“God; every Slayer has a-”

“Death wish.” she finishes, looking back up into his eyes.

He knows she can’t see him but it still haunts him; those empty little orbs gazing up in his direction.

“Exactly.” he says, his eyes glowing amber.

“I knew it would be you,” she whispers, “I always knew it would be you. Even when you loved me; I knew you would be the one to end my misery. Please; if you still love me; please take away the pain. This isn’t my life. I want to go home.”

His hands grip down on her shoulders painfully hard.

Love? How dare she?

As if he would ever love her; disgusting; an image of light.

The killer of his kind.

Disgusting and grimy.

Love?

With a roar of rage his sharp nails break the skin of her shoulders and he plunges his elated fangs down into her vulnerable neck; pulling deeply as he hears her scream in agony.

.........................................................

“Spike- are you okay?” his eyes are closed and he ignores the imploring voice. “Spike- okay; he’s asleep.”

“Safe to talk?”

“Should be.”

“Willow- are you sure about this? Brining her back... I mean we all want... But we...”

“Xander; Buffy... We don’t know... I mean she could be in Hell and we wouldn’t know...”

Spike feels his ears perk up; wondering if they’re really discussing what he suspects they are.

“So the spell... Everything’s ready?”

“You’re good for next week?”

“Of course... I can’t believe we’re actually going to bring her back...”

“I miss her so much...”

Spike lets out a long sigh; as much as he may want it too; he can’t let them do this. Slowly he sits up, opening his eyes to look at Xander and Willow’s shocked expressions.

“Spike...”

“Save it Red; I know what you’re planning... Can’t let you do it Love.”

“But Spike!” she protests. “Hell; Buffy could be in Hell!”

“What about Heaven?” he asks. “It’s too much of a risk pet.”

“I can do the spell Spike,” she says, clutching at Xander who looks just as scared at the prospect of losing all the hope they’ve cumulated over then past few weeks since their friend’s death. “It won’t go wrong.”

“Don’t doubt you there Red,” Spike says, “But we have to think of Buffy. It would be selfish just to assume she’s in Hell just because it suits us better.”

“But there’s every chance she could be.” says Xander in low tones, “Isn’t that a risk worth taking?”

Spike falters slightly. In all honesty, he hadn’t considered the fact that his Slayer could be trapped in Hell. Suffering day in and day out; being tortured and hurt for all the good she’s done.

“We check.” he says in a quiet voice. “You prove to me that the Slayer’s not in Heaven and then we can talk about bringing her back.”

“But Spike-”

“I don’t wanna hear it.” he says, “Buffy comes first.”

.........................................................

“There’s a way.” Willow says.

Spike looks up from the paper he’s pretending to read and stares into Willow’s determined eyes.

“Tell me.” he says.

“It would... There are risks involved. Not for Buffy,” she adds quickly, “Risks for us I mean.”

“It doesn’t matter.” says Xander.

“Agreed.” says Spike.

“Well,” says Willow, “There’s a spell that will enable one of us to visit Buffy, wherever she is... Just for a short while then they’ll be called back; but long enough for whoever goes to be able to find out if she’s happy where she is- or not.”

“I’ll go.” says Xander instantly. Spike lets out a short, bitter laugh.

“Don’t be a ponce Whelp. I’m going.” he says.

They both turn to stare at him; horrified and disgusted expressions on their faces.

“Spike- Buffy’s my best friend. She doesn’t even like you- in fact- she hates you. She only gets one visitor from her past life and you really think it should be you?”

“Sorry Spike but I have to agree,” adds Willow, “I’m sure Buffy would be more comfortable seeing someone she’s close with and since I can’t go, as I have to perform the spell, well Xander is the obvious choice.”

“Sorry kids but I’m going.” says Spike. “Xander; if Buffy’s in Hell do you really think you’ll be able to keep yourself alive long enough to report back here? We need someone who knows Buffy but can stand their own; I’m immortal. I’m going.”

Xander’s eyes are wide but Willow nods at him slowly.

“Okay...” the boy says eventually. “But if you hurt-”

“Don’t even say it.” Spike says in a dangerous tone.

......................................................................

“Are you ready?” Willow’s voice sounds determined and grown up; long forgotten are the days when this red-head was a quietly spoken book worm without even the magical ability to float a pencil.

Buffy does that to people; changes them; for the better.

People are nodding.

Xander, Anya, Tara.

“I’m ready.” Spike says.

He sits in the centre of the group, surrounded by candles which Tara is busy lighting.

He watches, mesmerized, as she drops the lighter he lent her down onto the linoleum flooring and takes two hands into her own.

“Decoray...” Willow begins, “I call upon the ancient power of the Goddess of the past life; let our willing champion take the journey her spirit took and let him-”

“Does it really say champion?” Xander asks quietly. Spike gives him a dark look.

“And communicate with the words we bestow upon him. Let him bringeth her our message; and only let him return when he truly believes that our warrior is safe.”

Spike feels a jolt go through his body as she continues. His spine twists until he finds himself on all fours, staring down at the cooled floor.

“Oh Goddess; grant him passage.”

Spike’s body twitches but he manages to keep himself from collapsing.

“Is he meant to be doing that?” someone whispers urgently.

“Shh...”

“Oh Goddess! Oh Goddess!” Willow cries, “Decoray, Decoray, Decoraylous!”

Everything goes black and Willow’s chants begin to blur as he feels the world fall away from around him.

Suddenly all he knows and all he feels is blood.

It fills and consumes him as he drinks it; his fangs burrowed in a neck that feels so soft and familiar.

He doesn’t think; doesn’t wonder what he was doing or why.

Nothing matters but the rich, smooth blood running down his throat.

And the pain; it’s gone.

No dull throbbing; no electric bites of pain.

Just pure, undiluted, pure pure pleasure as he takes a further pull of the oh so familiar blood.

This is something he’s longed for, for so long.

Something he’s craved; deserved.

Then he remembers; for the briefest second.

Her name.

Slayer.

Buffy.

He rips his fangs from the pallid neck and stares down at the glazed eyes.

Slayer.

Buffy.

They sent him back to save her; save her from Hell and all he did was kill her all over again.

“Buffy?” he asks; practically begs, “Can you hear me pet?”

Her eyes blink slowly. Once.

Her mind is spewing with confusion. Why did he stop? Why can’t anyone ever finish the job? Why is she always left standing?

Why is he looking at her like that?

Like he cares?

“Spike?” she asks in a tiny, weak voice.

“It’s me Love,” he says, “What’s going on here? Where are we?”

She stares at him; her eyes narrowing with each second that passes.

He looks around, leaping to his feet and heading over to the light switch. Slamming his hand down on the weak plastic, he floods the room with harsh light, spinning around again to face his Slayer.

What he sees makes him choke on breath he doesn’t need.

“Buffy...?” her eyes are absent. She looks degraded and exhausted; thick leather straps pulled tight against her tender skin; marring it with crimson blood, like the blood he still tastes on his lips.

Her blood.

Willow was right.

Hell. The Slayer; epitome of good; was sent to Hell.

She stares at him with hollow eyes that trickle tears.

“Aren’t you gonna finish what you started?” she asks in an empty voice. Accepting; staring up at him and accepting her death. Accepting the fact that he will kill her.

He runs to her bed and drops down beside her; grabbing the leather straps and ripping them clean off of her, then throwing them to the other side of the room with a low growl. Then he turns to stare down at her; his eyes filling with tears again; like the last time he saw her; body perfectly still and eyes closed.

“Buffy...” he says urgently, “What’s going on here?”

“You were killing me.” she says in a small voice that lacks emotion, “You should hurry up and finish. My friends will be back soon and I don’t want them to dust you; but they will Spike. Please hurry.”

His tears drop onto her face as he brushes grimy hair away from her forehead.

“Buffy- we have to get you out of here,” he says, looking around the room again, “Where are we?”

“Sunnydale Memorial Hospital.” she says, “What’s wrong with you?” she adds with untrusting eyes, “Why are you tying to help me now?”

“I...” he doesn’t know what to say or what’s going on. Buffy doesn’t seem surprised to see him; she seems strange.

It makes him wonder how long she’s been suffering here.

“How long Buffy?” he asks, “How long since you jumped?”

“I thought you didn’t believe me about that; like everyone else.” she replies in a cold voice.

Her answer throws him even more.

What’s happened to her?

What’s happened to his beautiful Slayer?

Why was she strapped to her bed like an animal?

And hospital?

Didn’t she just say she was in hospital?

“Can you walk?” he asks.

She stares up at him; eyes wide with confusion. It’s like she doesn’t know him at all.

Eventually she shakes her head.

“They keep me drugged up; tell me it’s to help me sleep. Its not.” she widens her eyes emphatically. “It’s to keep me weak to make sure I don’t bust out of their poxy restraints. They know I’m the Slayer; they know.”

“Buffy I’m so sorry,” he says, “I’ll get you out of this place; I swear.”

She looks away.

The restraints are gone; he tore them away; but she still can’t move.

Like a child she lies, staring at the starch white ceiling.

“Please...” she says, “Spike; I just want to go home...”

“I’ll take you,” he says, “I promise, but Buffy; will you let me carry you?” she keeps her eyes away from him, not wanting to look at his face and see the vampire she misses so. “I have to Buffy; you’re too weak to walk and we have to get out of here now.”

Eventually her head bobs in an accepting nod.

‘He’ll probably just kill me,’ she justifies to herself almost hopefully.

She feels him lift her into his strong arms and her head falls against his chest. She tries to move away; doesn’t want to touch him, but he holds her still in a steel grip. Besides; she’s too weak to fight the direction her head falls in. Weak from the drugs and blood-loss alike.

He walks swiftly to the door and reaches for the handle.

Then he groans.

“Locked.”

“You locked it.” the weak Slayer reminds him. “Earlier.”

He stares at her.

“No I-”

“The key’s probably in your pocket.”

He shivers when he pulls the tiny silver key out of the pocket of the black jeans he wears.

Where did it come from? He didn’t lock that door; he knows it. He’d been with the Scoobies just moments ago.

And yet; here the key is; sitting in his hand.

It’s too strange for words; like all this had been planned out to a disturbing degree. Or like he walked onto a set and while everyone else is already in character, he flails around looking for the script.

Slowly he fits it into the lock and pulls the door open; dropping the key on the floor as he carries Buffy out into the corridor; not wanting to be associated with the whole situation.

The everyday scene of a busy hospital befalls him and suddenly he doesn’t know what to do. If this is Hell then where should he go? Everyone who passes him looks so normal, and yet; they must all have known what lay beyond that door, strapped to the bed and drugged up to her eyeballs.

“Buffy?- Oh God; what have you done to her?” Spike instantly recognises Giles’ clipped accent and he spins around with relief to face the elderly Watcher.

“Oh- Rupert- thank God,” the vampire says, “Buffy- we need to get her help.”

Giles stares at the heavily drugged Slayer, curled up obliviously in the dangerous vampire’s arms. He doesn’t know how to react.

‘I try to take her and he’ll kill us both,’ his mind reels, ‘But Buffy- she doesn’t know he isn’t safe.’ No sudden movements or the strong vampire might decide to kill her right where she lays in his arms; cheek firmly pressed against his non-beating heart in a manor so trusting.

He decides to test his waters.

“How did she get out of the restraints?” he asks, trying to keep his voice calm.

Spike looks up sharply.

“She didn’t; she’s too weak. Someone’s made sure of that,” he shot a dark look around the busy corridor, wondering who was to blame, “I got her out of ‘em.”

“You did what?” Giles whispers, staring up at the blond nervously, “Spike; she’s not well. Isn’t any part of you saying that kidnapping the Slayer when she’s sick is cruel and unfair.” he casts his eyes down guiltily. “We all know what you have planned for Buffy but couldn’t you have at least waited until she could put up a bit of a fight? Grant her at least that dignity. Let her have some time with her friends first?”

Giles feels guilty even saying the words; he knows his Slayer can hear him perfectly clearly. But the truth is; a dangerous and powerful vampire who is practically unstoppable swore to kill her as soon as she woke from her coma. Well she woke, and, painful as it was for any of them to admit it... She didn’t stand much chance.

They had hoped that Spike would let it go, at least for a while until Buffy got better and at least stood a chance.

But now, here he was, holding her in a vice like grip against his chest, slowly backing away from the Watcher with a wild look in his eyes.

“What are you talking back?” Spike demands, looking down to check on Buffy who is staring up at him blankly. “Why would I... Why would I hurt Buffy?”

Giles lets out a bitter chuckle.

“Because it’s what you bleeding well do.” he says. He looks up and sees he’s caught the vampire off guard. He decides this is the best opportunity he’ll get so he braces himself to try his luck once again, “Spike,” he says, “Please; Buffy needs to get better. Let me take her back to her room.”

Spike looks up to see the Watcher holding his arms out for the girl. He almost hands her over; almost; then he hears Giles’ words again.

“Let me take her back to her room.”

“Her room?” Spike asks, “Please God Rupert, tell me you’re not a part of this.”

“A part of what?” he asks, an edge of fear in his voice.

“This... Torture. Buffy; strongest girl in the world drugged up and strapped to her bed.” it makes him hold onto the girl in his arms even tighter. “I can’t believe you would condone this mistreatment.”

“Be careful Spike,” Giles says in what can only be described as a dangerous voice, “You almost look as if you care. Wouldn’t want anything to come between you and your bloody battle.”

Spike wants to punch him.

“There’s something wrong with you,” he tells the old man with disgust in his voice. “I’m not leaving the Slayer with you.”

He turns and rapidly begins to stroll away; feeling Giles panic behind him.

“Please Spike!” he calls out in a last desperate attempt, “She’s not well. Please don’t encourage anything she says; it’ll only mess her up even more.”

Spike stops in his tracks. Turning, ever so slowly to face the Watcher again, then looking down briefly into his Slayer’s absent eyes once again.

“Are you saying she’s...”

“Lost her marbles.” Giles says, “For now anyway. Please; she needs to be with her friends.”

Spike resents that comment.

“I am her friend.” he says as he continues to storm from the busy hospital; leaving Giles standing, paralysed to his spot.

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A/N: Yay- now we’re into the action! Hope you liked!! Please review me- it keeps me going!

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A/N: First and foremost, I would like to dedicate this chapter again, to my fantastically shiny friend, Tiffany. Her encouragement helped me a shed-load when I was writing this and I miss our little chats a lot. Thank you Tiff! Miss you!
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CHAPTER FOUR: Protection or betrayal?

Spike is running, he doesn’t know where to go; what to do.

This is Sunnydale; he knows the sights and sounds like the back of his hand, and yet, something feels different. Wrong.

Buffy’s face is crushed into his chest and her small hands cling onto him reluctantly, like she really doesn’t want his help; sooner be left to die with the remaining scraps of her dignity.

“Are you kidnapping me?” she asks in a quiet voice as his run slows.

He’s exhausted and a bench calls out to him; offering him a place to rest for a moment or two.

Spike walks briskly over to the bench and places Buffy down. Then he sits beside her and feels her crumple into his side, her head lolling weakly.

So weak.

He’d never seen his Slayer so weak.

“I’m not kidnapping you.” he says, “Just couldn’t leave you in that place.”

“Couldn’t kill me either.” she says cynically. “Just want to go to my real home. Last time I died I had to wake up here; maybe if you kill me I can go home.” she jolts and looks up at him suddenly, “No... No... No...” she says, “Didn’t die. Wasn’t real. None of it was. Just a dream; just a dream. Not allowed to talk about it. Not healthy. Not real. None of it was real...” she reaches a hand out slowly as if she’s going to touch his face, “Except you. You were real...”

“Buffy.” he tries to catch her hand but she snatches it away again.

“But even you’re wrong. Not the same Spike; Spike’s not nice; stay away from Spike.” she shivers, trying to support herself away from him. “Spike wants to kill me. But even this Spike can’t do it.”

“Hey,” he says, grabbing her shoulders gently and turning her so he can look into her eyes, “Spike doesn’t want to kill you.”

His words make her sob and tears begin to stream her cheeks again.

He stares at her; she’s clearly traumatised. Whatever’s happened to her is having a huge effect on her and he knows he needs to get her out of this place as soon as he can.

“Willow was right.” he murmurs.

“Did Willow tell you that I’m insane?” she asks, “Did you know that I’ve lived inside my own mind for the past eight months?”

“What?” he asks, staring into her terrified green eyes and feeling his heart clench at their hollowness.

“Anya, Tara, Dawn, Glory, not real. None of it.” she tells him, looking up at him with serious eyes, “I didn’t kill the Master. He put me in a coma eight months ago. I lived a whole four years in my own mind, then, when I thought I was finally getting what I always wanted; my freedom; sailing through the warm, blue energy... I woke up. Here. When I told my friends about my life they decided I was crazy. Doctor tied me to the bed. Injected me with cold liquid. Telling me again and again ‘it’s not real, you have to get over this if you want to be free in this world again’. And I cried but no one cared. Then I was scared; so scared that I dreamed Spike too. That I just made him up in my imagination. And I was terrified by the prospect of loosing him.” she drops her heavy head into her hands, “Thought how my life would be without him. It was painful to think that in the whole world; he was nowhere. Couldn’t just tell myself that he was off in some foreign country with Drusilla. No comfort. So I asked. Had to know. And they all looked at me like I was even more insane. Spike exists but he doesn’t love me. He hates me... You hate me. You forced the Scoobies to invoke you with some ancient power then killed the Master. Then, when you heard about me, decided you’d claim your next Slayer. But you waited, like I could have guessed you would, and you waited until I woke up just so I could see the one who kills me. And I always knew it would be you... Ever since the day Spike told me... ‘And you know when that time comes... I’ll be there... I’ll slip in’... I always knew when it came down to it; he would be the one to kill me. But then you couldn’t do it; you bit me; got halfway then pulled out. Took me here. Listened to me.” she looks back up at him again, her eyes big as she blinks away tears. “And I still don’t understand.” she says, “Because it felt so real. I remember killing the Master clear as day, but it never happened. And I remember Mom dying; finding her on the couch; but that never happened either. And I remember my baby sister- remember dying for her... But she doesn’t even exist... And I didn’t die. Because it wasn’t real.”

Spike stares at her, tears leaping into his eyes as she chants her mantra.

“It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.”

“Shh Baby.” he says, stroking her hair, trying to soothe her.

The action makes her body jolt and she tries to move away again, managing to get a couple of inches between herself and the blond vampire before looking up into his eyes.

“You’re not him.” she tells him in a heartbreaking voice. “I can’t look at you without seeing him. Why aren’t you trying to kill me?”

“Don’t wanna kill you, just wanna help,” he says, “Now Buffy; you gotta listen to me very carefully.” he speaks slowly, the way he used to communicate with Drusilla, and he places his hands on her shoulders; making sure she’s paying attention to his words.

“Dawn.” he says. “Is real. Anya, Tara, Glory, Dawn. All real.”

She stares up at him, her eyes narrowing.

“Willow did a spell; she wants to bring you back to life. I was afraid you might be in Heaven so she agreed to send me to wherever you were. Buffy; I opened my eyes and found my fangs in your neck.” he takes a deep, unneeded breath, “I don’t know where we are Buffy; but I know I’ll do whatever it takes to get you home.”

She stares at him for a moment, then scrambles to her feet as fast as she can begins to run away from him. Slightly alarmed; Spike lets her get about ten feet away from him before he leaps up and goes after her; grabbing her shoulders and dragging her back to their bench.

She squirms under his forceful touch and she lets out a small cry as he pushes her back onto the bench.

“Buffy listen to me-”

“No!” she interrupts, “You just want to confuse me; make me believe the world I made up was real. You just want to hurt me. But you can’t- I know, I know.”

“No, Buffy, listen to me,” he says, “You died for Dawn; you really did. You leapt off that tower so graceful and beautiful I thought my heart would explode when I looked up and saw the smile on your face. And when you landed you looked so peaceful; sun was rising and I nearly caught fire; just sitting there, crying over your beautiful, cold, body.” he sighs, looking into her wide eyes, “Dawn is so torn up. On the surface she’s dealing well- but I know her better than that. Last week she had to do a presentation on real-life heroes for a school project. She based it on you Buffy and I was so proud. But the school gave her detention... Said the project was supposed to be real- not make believe.”

Buffy closes her eyes as he tells his story. He makes it feel so real. Like Dawn is really out there somewhere; painting pictures and listening to her radio.

“Dawn’s okay?” she asks, knowing that she’s succumbing to his evil plan. Letting herself believe that her insane fantasies are real after all. ‘Not real. Not real.’ she silently chants.

“Dawn’s doing okay.” Spike says. “I caught her though, the other day, hugging the BuffyBot... Crying she was, like she wished the robot was you.”

Buffy looks away. The BuffyBot? How could he have known?

“And Willow?” she asks.

“Hit her hard.” Spike says, “She cries a lot these days; not when people are around, but when she’s all alone. Doesn’t even cry in front of Tara. She confides in me though; we’ve gotten closer; we all have.”

“Xander?” Buffy asks in a weak voice.

“Broken man.” Spike confides. “Right now you’re all he thinks about. Anya tries to cheer him up and he smiles and laughs, but his eyes are red-rimmed.”

“Giles?” she asks finally, looking down at her hands, then quickly back up at Spike.

“He... He left.” Spike says. “Stayed for a while but realised there was nothing for him in Sunnydale with you gone.”

The news brings fresh tears into Buffy’s eyes and she collapses against Spike.

She doesn’t know whether to believe him or not.

Not seems like the safer option. Accept that it was all a dream; get better and get her life back. Be seventeen again and not have to worry about adulthood for a good few years.

But on the other hand, here was the blond vampire she’s so familiar with, telling her that everything she’s been told was a dream is really real. Her life. It exists after all. She’s not insane.

“Spike?” she asks, pushing herself back so she can look up at him.

“Yes Love?” he asks.

“Are...” her voice wavers for a moment as she contemplates what she wants to say, “Are you the Spike I know? The Spike who fell in love with me?”

He nods numbly, looking away from her eyes; unable to meet her penetrating gaze for some reason.

“That’s why you won’t kill me?” she asks.

“I don’t know that the other Spike would have killed you,” he says, reaching to caress a wave of blond hair gently, “But I know for a fact that I couldn’t.”

“Chip?” she asks.

“Doesn’t work here.” he says.

She stiffens slightly, attempting to pull away again but he holds onto her fast.

“Not gonna hurt you pet,” he says, “Already lost you once and that’s far too many times for my liking anyway.” his hands ghost over the soft skin of her face as he shakes his head, “What have they done to you Love?”

She looks down, unable to meet his gaze now.

She’d felt degraded by the restraints. Insulted by the disbelief and accusations of insanity. And hurt by the horrified and disgusted looks her friends had worn on their faces.

And now she felt confused; so very confused.

She feels Spike’s finger beneath her chin and he tilts her head back up so that she’s gazing into his eyes again.

He feels almost overwhelmed with relief as he sees a flicker of emotion cross through her dark green orbs.

The first sign of hope she had given him.

The first time her eyes hadn’t been completely hollow.

And the emotion.

He knew it as soon as he saw it, mainly because he saw it so often in the Nibblet’s eyes.

Trust.

He had half killed her, then kidnapped her, but he has her trust. She believes in him.

“I’ll get you home Buffy, I promise.” he says.

“Don’t swear that to me,” she begs in a soft voice, her voice strained; showing Spike clearly how exhausted she really is, “If it all goes wrong...”

“I’ll get you home pet,” he insists, “Even if it kills me.”

Suddenly Buffy screams in terror when a stake flies out of nowhere and imbeds itself into Spike’s upper arm. He grunts in pain; pulling it out slowly, looking down at his own blood adorning the wooden spike.

He almost smiles, however, when Buffy pulls herself up gently to inspect the damage. She sits on her knees, softly pulling the black cotton of his tee-shirt out of the wound; tentatively touching the small hole left by the splintered word; earning herself a low hiss from Spike.

She gives him a look and he’s so consumed by her actions that he almost forgets that whoever just threw the sharpened wood at him is still out there.

He soon remembers, however, when another stake bites into shoulder blade.

“Bloody Hell!” he exclaims, ripping it out.

“What’s going on?” Buffy asks, looking fearfully out into the darkness.

Angel steps into view, another stake poised and ready to release.

“Buffy its okay,” he says, keeping his eyes on Spike, “I got it under control. Spike,” he spits, “Let her go.”

“What’s going on Angel?” Buffy repeats, staying firmly where she is. She may not be sure that this Spike is telling the truth but she isn’t ready to dismiss her hope completely just yet.

“Buffy get away from him,” Angel demands, no softness left in his voice, “Look at you; look at what he’s done to you! Get out of the way so I can get this stake in his chest.”

Buffy’s eyes widen and she looks quickly at Spike; silently begging him to tell her what to do. Crystal blue eyes meet dark green and for the first time that evening... She recognises him.

The glisten of love and pain in his eyes is so reminiscent of everything she told herself was a dream.

Everything she forced herself to believe had never happened; so desperate to be free and normal again.

As she gazes into his eyes she realises that her life is about to get a lot more complicated. Knowing that she’s not insane after all is like a sobering glass of water and now she sees; really sees.

Slowly she stands; her eyes never leaving Spike’s face. He looks afraid; afraid that she will leave him and let him suffer all of Angel’s hatred, face death all alone.

But his eyes show understanding and words from the past haunt him.

“You’re beneath me.”

And he is. He knows it and he knows that she knows it too. He’s sure he sees it reflected in her eyes as she looks down at him; seeming unable to tear her eyes away.

“Buffy!” shouts Angel, “Get out of the way- this is the best chance any of us will get at killing him!”

In a flash she makes a decision.

She spins around to face Angel, standing her ground and effectively protecting the blond vampire’s chest.

“Buffy get out of the way,” he says in an impatient voice. Damn- he so does not have time to argue with his insane girlfriend right now- not if he wants this day to have a dusty ending for old Spikey. “Buffy!”

She hates the way he’s looking at her and talking to her. Like she’s nothing; like she’s worthless because some doctor declared that she was crazy. Had he even bothered to ask her how she was? If she was in pain? If she missed the quiet oblivion of her ‘made-up’ world.

She feels Spike’s hand on her waist and it sends a shock through her body, making her start slightly. He quickly pulls back, misreading her reaction and Angel balls his fists, squeezing the stake in his hand until blood seeps out from between his fingers.

“Touch her and I’ll rip your head clean off your body,” Angel threatens, blood dripping from the end of his stake, “Just get away from her or I’ll-”

“You don’t hurt him.” Buffy says in a low voice.

Both Spike and Angel look up at her in shock and surprise. Spike wishes she were facing him so he could see her eyes but instead he has to make do with the back of head; trying to imagine the look that she’s giving Angel.

“Buffy this is crazy!” Angel cries.

The Slayer tenses at his use of the word.

“I assure you,” she says, trying to keep herself calm and at least looking as if she’s in control. “No one here is crazy.”

She takes a deep breath, trying to settle the bad feelings coursing through her. She tries to stand straight; doesn’t want Angel to see that she’s weakening even further.

“Buff- just get out of my way,” Angel says. “Spike’s dangerous- you can’t seriously...”

His voice trails off when he sees Buffy collapse to the ground with a slight cry, voicing her own surprise.

“Buffy!” Angel cries, but Spike is there first. He kneels beside her, turning her over onto her back and sucking in his breath when he realises she’s unconscious. Quickly, he stoops down, letting his ear linger close to her lips.

“She’s breathing,” he says, more to himself than for Angel’s benefit, “Barely.”

“Get away from her.” the dark vampire’s voice is threatening.

Spike looks away from Buffy slowly, a realisation dawning upon him.

Angel is going to kill him.

Then, when he’s nothing but dust, Angel will take the unconscious Slayer.

Take her into his arms and carry her all the way back to her friends.

Back to the hospital.

Back to the dank little room.

Back into the leather restraints; with further repercussions for her failed attempts to protect him.

Spike’s eyes close in horror as he imagines her face when she wakes up again and finds herself strapped to the bed.

Would she lose her will to live again? The same way she had when he found his fangs in her neck. He remembers the disappointment that reflected in her hollow eyes when he pulled his fangs away from her.

He knows getting both himself and Buffy away from this situation will be more than difficult.

Finally, he opens his eyes and looks back down at her face. He loves her, God he loves her so much. So many weeks since he saw her jump from the tower; happy; happy to be leaving him and finding her peace. Then, what cruel twist of fate had brought her here?

So long it’s been since he last heard her voice, feels longer than the few weeks.

And he’s found her.

He’s actually here, staring down at her beautiful, youthful face once again.

And he won’t let her go.

Whatever it takes.

“Stay back.” he tells the other vampire, a low warning in his voice.

Angel falters just long enough for Spike to make his move.

He grabs the Slayer by the shoulders and hauls himself swiftly to his feet, pulling her up with him. He wraps his left arm around her waist while his right hand snakes up her front, then clamps down harshly around her neck.

“Don’t try anything Angelous.” he says in the steely cold voice he hasn’t used in years, not since he fell for Buffy, “You want the bitch to live through this then you’ll let me past.”

“Let her go Spike,” a new voice.

Spike spins around to see all of the Scoobies in tow, eyes wide as they take in the situation; Spike’s hand clamped around Buffy’s tender neck.

“She passed out and he went for her.” he hears Angel say quickly. Damn- this is going to be harder than he planned.

“Let me past or I swear to God; I tear her bloody throat out.” he says, his voice dangerously low.

He can’t look at Xander and Willow. He’s gotten so close with them the past few days; planning the spell, talking and, he would say, almost becoming friends with them.

It hurts to see their wide eyes turn hateful; even if they’re not the same people he knows.

“Let me past.” he repeats, digging his nails into Buffy’s neck, just enough to draw blood.

“Okay- stop Spike!” Xander says urgently, “Stop- just... Just don’t hurt Buffy.”

He loosens his grip immediately; glad that he won’t have to hurt her anymore.

“Let me past and the bitch gets to live.” he repeats for everyone’s benefit. “Try to stop me and I rip her throat out. Do you really think I won’t do it?”

His eyes close in exasperation as he hears her groan.

“Bollocks.” he mutters as she groggily wakes; instantly jolting when she feels the iron grip around her neck. As the silence stretches on she hopelessly wonders who her captor is.

“I mean it.” Spike’s dark voice crawls past her ear like velvet, “Let me go or I’ll tear the bitch apart.”

Buffy feels her heart shatter. All the faith she had emplaced in him falls apart at the sound of his words. Maybe she wants him to kill her; if he was lying then maybe she really is insane after all.

She struggles against him and Spike tries to hide the pain in his eyes as he tightens the grip he has on her, stifling any further movement. Buffy cries out against the pain but her cry slowly fades out when she notices something new.

Spike’s hand, gently caressing her side as he tightens the grip on her neck. His fingers trace small, soft circles across her waist, concealed to her friends by his slim hips.

She doesn’t know what to do.

“Giles- what do we do?” Spike hears Willow’s soft question and he waits with baited breath for the Watcher’s answer.

Giles looks up at where his Slayer is being held captive.

“Don’t kill her.” he says in a cold voice which lets Spike know everything he needs to.

They’ll let him go.

“Would I?” Spike asks as he lifts the Slayer back into his arms and sweeps as quickly from the scene as he can; heading for the crypt he knows Buffy will recognise.

It isn’t his home yet in this place, but he knows it like the back of his hand so he should be on own territory if he and Buffy get jumped.

She lies on his bed unable to move again; feeling terribly weak and vulnerable as she watches him move around the crypt.

Of course she recognises it.

He’s sitting on the sarcophagus where she gave him her first sincere kiss; his lips bruised and bloody after taking torture to protect Dawn. She’d felt so sure of herself that day; completely in control; always in control.

And yet; here she lies, unable to move with de-chipped Spike just metres away from her.

He hasn’t said anything to her.

The silence that stretches between them is almost unbearable.

She can see the guilt and regret flashing from his eyes but she doesn’t seem to care.

She’s exhausted and her body aches from all the rough handling she’s under-gone in recent days. She just wants to sleep; sleep and never wake up.

“I had...” he tries. She keeps her eyes closed. “I had to Buffy; it was the only way to get us both out alive.”

She doesn’t reply.

“Buffy- please-”

“Spike- I’m tired.” she interrupts. “Please; I just want to sleep.”

She opens her eyes briefly to see him looking down at his hands in defeat.

“If they killed me,” he says in a quiet voice, “They would have taken you back to that place.” he looks up sharply to see Buffy staring at him intently, “And if I was dead; no one would be able to tell Willow that you’re not in Heaven so you’d be stuck here.” he closes his eyes, not wanting to meet her penetrating stare as he continues to explain his actions. “They weren’t about to let me walk away with you, and you were a bit too unconscious to explain anything. So I did what I had to; and don’t think it didn’t hurt me because it did Buffy; it did.”

“I’m tired.” she says again, not wanting to forgive him just yet, even though she knows in her heart, she hadn’t blamed him anyway.

“Okay...” he says, “Get some sleep. I just wanted you to know that nothing’s change. I’m going to get you home.”

“I know...” Buffy replies in a soft voice, looking over at his closed eyes.

..........................................................

“I know you’ll never love me.”

His words; earnest and blunt, catch her attention. She turns slowly, wondering where they’re leading.

“I know that I’m a monster.”

She blinks slowly. She shouldn’t speak now; there seems to be something he needs to say to her and she owes it to him to listen. His eyes are so open and honest, she finds it difficult to look at him directly.

“But you treat me like a man and that’s-”

He looks up at her and realises that he’ll never be able to share his emotions with her again; not after the way she reacted to his first declaration of love. It’s not her fault; she’s the Slayer and he can’t expect her to love him; feel anything other than disgust for him.

He sighs and lets her leave. But he stands for a moment at the bottom of the staircase, just staring up after her; gazing at the area she occupied just moments before.

And he loves her.

Buffy wakes with a jolt.

He loves her.

She felt it running through her dream, through her conscious, through her very soul.

She’d always known; he’d always said and yet... The implications had never truly sunken in.

He loves her.

“Spike.” she calls in a loud whisper.

No reply.

Feeling some what stronger, she pushes herself up into a sitting position; surprising herself when she realises how much better she feels.

She looks over at Spike who is lying motionless upon his sarcophagus; asleep.

“Spike!” she calls again to no avail.

Turning herself around, she drops her feet to the floor and pushes herself up into a standing position.

Slowly, step after step, she makes her way over to Spike’s sleeping form.

She reaches out a tentative hand to touch his chest, mesmerised by the rise and fall; wondering why the vampire is breathing at all.

‘Must be a reflex thing,’ she thinks to herself, ‘Like a subconscious memory.’

Suddenly his eyes shoot open and his hand is clamped around her wrist. For a second he’s glaring up at her and Buffy has to wonder if the other Spike has come back to kill her; surprised by the fact that for once, she doesn’t want to die.

Spike has given her a glimmer of hope; a chance to get back to her own world; and that, at least; is something worth holding on for.

After a moment his dark eyes clear and his hand drops from her wrist; he’s back with her again. He’s Spike.

“Buffy.” he says in a sleep laden voice as he stares up at her, “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” her voice is still hushed, “I... I had a dream...”

“I’m sorry pet,” he says, sitting up immediately and indicating to her to relax beside him, “Was it bad?”

“No it... It was just a memory,” she replies, “At least; it was a memory if I’m not crazy.”

“If you’re crazy I am too pet.” he says, “Which memory?”

“You...” she says, unable to look at him for some reason, “After I re-invited you; standing at the bottom of the stairs- telling me...”

“I know you’ll never love me.” he finishes.

“Yes.”

“I remember too.”

“So it was really real?”

“Yes Buffy- it was really real.” he leans back on the cold stone, letting her turn to look at him, “I thought about it,” he says, looking up at her, “Far as I can tell; this seems to be some kind of alternate universe.”

“Alternate?” her voice is sceptical.

“You jumped into a very powerful force Buffy; something we can’t even contemplate; and something definitely powerful enough to throw you into a parallel world... The main difference here seems to be that you didn’t defeat the Master; that’s the pivot point that makes our two worlds different.” Buffy’s watching him closely; wondering why he cares enough to have puzzled it over, “You’ve been in a coma but you didn’t dream our lives; you’re not the same Buffy. I think- think-” he emphasizes, “That the Buffy from this world and yourself have switched places. Obviously as, in our world, you’re d... no longer alive... Well the Buffy from this world went to wherever you were meant to go; Heaven or whatever waits for heroes in the afterlife.”

Buffy stares at him; feeling unnecessary tears in her eyes; mad at herself for being so stupid.

“Can we be switched back?” she asks, “Can I get out of this place?”

“You know Willow.” Spike says with a smirk, “We can do anything you want us to Buffy. The question is...” he swallows, knowing the answer to this question will change his life forever; no matter what option she chooses, “Would you want to... Stay dead- or would you want to be brought back?”

Buffy shivers; on the one hand, she wants to live again; see Dawn and her real friends more than anything, but on the other; the prospect of finally being able to rest; to sleep and smile... Well it’s just as inviting.

“I... I don’t know, I... Do I have to decide now?”

“Of course not,” Spike says immediately, glad she’s not ending his hope so soon. As long as he’s here with her, he can believe that she’ll come back with him. Even if she won’t be with him; at least she’ll be there; breathing and laughing and smiling and so perfect everyday and- God he loves her so much.

“I love you Buffy,” he says; knowing he can’t keep it inside, “You know I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I know.” she says; not knowing if she’s accepting his love or his help. “And Spike, I’m... Well I’m glad you’re here; for what it’s worth. You- well I guess you saved me from the other Spike.”

He smiles, glad to hear she appreciates his help. She looks up at him again.

“And Spike,” she adds, “I do know now... How much you’ve changed for me I mean. I... I met William the Bloody and I know... You’re not the same vampire you were.”

She waits with baited breath for the arrogant ‘Bloody well am- evil me’ comment. But it doesn’t come.

She looks up in time to see a tear slide down his high cheekbone. Just one. But it was like a dagger to her heart.

“You did that to me Buffy.” he says, wanting so badly to reach out for her, “You... When I fell in love with you it... It changed everything for me. I wanted to change for you Buffy.”

Now she has to look away because she knows she’ll only hurt him if she looks at him. Because if he sees her eyes he’ll see all her hatred for him again. And he’ll know that Buffy could never love him.

“Well at least one good thing came of my life.” she says in an almost bitter voice.

“Hey-” Spike says, “More than one good thing; if you can even count me. What about Dawn- wouldn’t she be dead without you? And Willow- you certainly changed her! Do you honestly believe she’d be a witch right now if she’d never met you?- Bloody Hell- without you Willow and Xander would never have made it out of high school alive. Giles would be just a regular old bloke and Angel... Well I guess Angel would still be the worthless homeless guy I’m told he was before he saw you. Buffy- you touch lives- it’s what you do. Don’t for one second believe you’re anything less than a hero- because you are a hero. You’re one of a kind.”

Tears are running down her face and she has to turn away to maintain her dignity; wiping desperately at her blotchy red cheeks.

“Hey-” he says again, turning her back around to face him, “Don’t ever be ashamed of crying Buffy- don’t be ashamed of who you are. And please- for Gods sake- don’t ever let these people convince you that you’re crazy- because you’re not- I swear to you- you’re not.” he takes her hands into his, “You saved the world a lot.” he tells her, “... That’s what we had engraved on your grave stone.”

Buffy shivers at the information, feeling Spike’s hands tighten around her own.

“Spike-” she says, “I’m not done- I want to go home. I do. Will you take me home?”

His heart expands at her request.

“I will.” he says, barely allowing himself to believe what she wants, “I will- I swear it.”

Lost to her emotion; Buffy pulls her arms around the blond vampire and lets her head rest against his firm chest. For a moment he remains completely still, then, softly as if he’s not sure he really should; he lowers his arms down around her, pulling her slightly closer to him.

“I love you.” he says softly. “I’ll get you home if it kills me.”

“I hope it doesn’t.” she replies, so quietly he very nearly misses it.

But he hears.

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A/N: Well there you go; Buffy and Spike in Spike’s crypt- kinda safe for now. Hope you enjoyed- please please please leave a review for me!! Thank you!! (Geez- I just realised how long that chapter was!!)
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