Come Back to Me
by Spikesdeb
Chapter 21
Faith rushed to kneel next to Angel’s still form. The power of Willow’s spell had sent him crashing headfirst against the wall and he was out cold. It was better that way, because she really didn’t want to have to fight him. At least now he could be restrained, allowing Cordy to get on with administering the trials. Just to be sure, Willow passed her hands over him and incanted a sleeping spell and a binding charm. Then Gunn and Kennedy hefted his weight between them and praying that they'd not bump into any W&H employees, they all headed back to the lab.
Spike and Buffy were left alone, still sitting on the floor. Why nobody had come to investigate the noise was anybody's guess but Buffy wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She helped Spike to his feet and took his weight against her shoulder. They gazed into each other's eyes, vividly remembering the time that Buffy had defeated the Turok Han and defied the First so that she could rescue Spike from the caves. Tears blurred her vision as she led him back to Dawn's room.
She sat him down in the chair and rifled the contents of the medical supplies cupboard, chiding him about the state he was in. “He bit you.” was his grumbled explanation. She grabbed saline pouches and wadding and wiped away most of the blood, then applied some steristrips to close a large gash on his forehead. It would heal anyway, she knew that, but the task of cleaning his face and hands helped calm her. Its very normality meant she was in control of something at least. Spike let her do what she wanted, watching her out of one swollen black eye.
“This is like old times, isn’t it?” Buffy murmured as she gently tended his wounds.
“That it is,” he said quietly. He was convinced that once he left this room he would be heading back into flamey oblivion. He was resigned to it; he wasn't happy about it but he would deal with it. Buffy thought he was a hero and he wasn't about to let her down.
"Buffy...there’s something I’ve got to tell you. It's so hard...but I have to."
Buffy's heartbeat raced; she knew. Already she knew. Not in the actual knowing of anything way, but just that hollow pit of dread. She shivered, skin suddenly pebbled with goosebumps. She didn’t want to hear it – didn’t want to make it real. She slid into his lap and rested her forehead against his. Spike winced with pain but held Buffy close to stop her from moving away. Pain meant he was still here. Pain was his friend.
"Thing is love, seems the Powers That Be aren’t done with me yet. Your old mate from Sunnyhell, the cheerleader, she's the Powers' mouthpiece now and according to her I was brought back to save the world again. Well – save Peaches actually. I think he's the one that gets to save the world this time, but he has to have an attitude readjustment first."
Buffy started sobbing quietly, her heart aching at the light tone of his voice, so matter of fact as he spelled out his doom with his soul in his eyes. She could burst with pride for love of him. He’d come so far. And now he was supposed to give it all up for saintly Angel - the vicious, twisted creature she'd once thought to love. Well, not if she had anything to do with it.
Buffy jumped off his lap and headed towards the door, Spike calling after her.
"Buffy?"
"I'll be back in ten minutes, okay? Look after Dawn for me."
The room was suddenly empty without her, and Spike focused on Dawn's strong, steady heartbeat. She was a survivor, his Bit; she'd make it. He got up and took the few steps to the bedside, limping on a swollen knee, and reached out to stroke Dawn's long, brunette tresses. She was so pretty, long lashes brushing slightly pinkened cheeks, the dancing eyes hidden. He felt a lump form in his throat at the thought that he wouldn't be around to see the beautiful woman he knew she'd become. He'd made his peace with that back in the Hellmouth, but to be given the chance again only for it to be snatched away. It hurt. It hurt like hell. He swiped a tear away roughly, cursing himself for the weak fool he was at heart, and bent to place a kiss on her forehead. He whispered his goodbyes, voice rough with emotion. "Look out for your sis, Bit. She's not as strong as she likes us to think. She'll always need you to be there for her. I'm relying on you."
He continued to gaze down at her, holding her hand as he reminisced aloud and chuckling as he reminded her of days gone by: perched in his crypt while he told her gory tales until Buffy came and dragged her away; how she’d kept him going after Buffy’s death; her Halloween adventures with a horny vamp; the night Buffy came back from the grave.
Dawn gave no sign that she could hear him but he carried on regardless, just needing to fill the silence with sounds of life.
+ + + + +
Buffy stormed into the lab, her eyes hard and glittering. She ignored Willow's 'hi Buffy' and marched straight past her to stand, hands on hips, in front of where Cordelia sat with Lorne. The empath almost flinched from the angst coming off of her in waves; he didn't even need her to squeak a note to know what has about to happen.
"Hail the Warrior Queen! Looking coolio in the circumstances. Although you do have the tiniest smidgeon of gore just beneath your...never mind, it’s very urban chic."
Lorne managed not to wilt under the patented Buffy Summers’ glare but knew when to back off. He patted Cordelia's hand and left her to it. A demon had his limits.
"What the hell are you doing to him?"
Cordelia raised her head to meet Buffy's eyes. If ever she'd needed proof that Buffy and Spike's love was real, here it was. And if she hadn't been the Powers' envoy and imbued with superpower, she'd have been out of there. As it was, she had a job to do and she would just have to make Buffy understand.
"Buffy, please sit down before I get a crick in the neck. Give me a chance to explain. Please?"
Buffy sat reluctantly, her arms crossed as she perched on the edge of the table facing Cordy. "Why, Cordy? Why do I get the feeling that I'm about to be given the 'all Slayers have to make sacrifices' speech again? Isn't there like a statute of limitations on how many sacrifices one Slayer has to make or something? Cause I've gotta tell you, I'm well and truly pissed with it. Didn't I pass the baton?"
"There are sacrifices to be made, Buffy. But this time they're not yours. This is about the two souled vampires. You are linked to both but ultimately the outcome will be decided with or without your help. Spike is very special, more than he realises, but Angel is also beloved of the Powers and is destined to make more of a difference than he could ever dream of."
Buffy kept eye contact with her former classmate, desperately trying to tell if she was playing her. All she saw was quiet confidence and acceptance of her task. Buffy dropped her guard, uncrossing her arms and letting her shoulders relax.
"Okay, Cordy. I hear you. I should let him make his own mind up. And you know he already has, right? Since when did Spike walk away from a fight?. Even if it means his end." Her voice faltered on the last word, eyes filling with tears. "Please, Cordy. He deserves better...and I can’t lose him again...” The anguish filtered through making her words husky and low.
Cordelia got to her feet and wrapped her arms around the woman she'd once tried to befriend then ridiculed, before being sucked into the Scooby gang almost by default so many years ago. Finally she'd come to see Buffy as the heroine she was and understood a little of her pain having had to let Angel go just when she was letting herself grow to love him.
"Buffy. I truly don't know how this will end. But I do know that nothing is certain and that Spike doesn't have to die. There are trials he must endure and he must then carry out the ritual that will bring Angel back to his true path. And that is all I know. What happens is up to him, and up to Angel." Cordelia wiped Buffy's eyes and ducked her head to lock eyes with her. "Tell me, Buffy. Do you believe he truly loves you?"
"With all my heart. He...we...he claimed me. I feel him, sense when he's near. And he knows I truly love him."
"And do you believe he would ever willingly leave you?"
"No. Never. Not while I breathe."
"Then have faith in him. Let him do what he must and trust him to come back to you."
Buffy nodded, her throat too tight with tears to form a reply. She would do what she had to, so that Spike could do what he had been brought back for. And no matter what happened, this was it for her - she would love him until the day she died.
+ + + + +
Harmony was puzzled by Angel's continued absence. Yeah, maybe he didn’t act like a regular boss – not that she knew much about them - but he never missed his mug of otter's blood, and the last two she'd left on his desk hadn’t been touched. What a waste! It was ritzy stuff, otters not having much blood, so it was pretty much primo produce. She sniffed at the mug she held, wondering whether to drink it or not. She dipped her tongue in tentatively, savouring the burst of flavour along her taste buds. Not bad. She was about to take a healthy swig when the bitter aftertaste hit her. "Bleargh! That is so disgusting. No wonder he’s left it. I need something to get rid of the taste..."
She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and left the mug on the desk with the two others. What she needed was something fruity with a zing, a girly chat with her bestest bud Andrew, and some new shoes therapy - eight pairs should do it. As she sashayed along the corridors she flipped her pink cell phone and pressed speed dial #1.
"Andrew! Yeah, Harm here. Whatcha doing? Well, ditch it, big boy, we are so hitting Neiman Marcus – and I've just palmed Angel's charge card." Squeals of delight followed her down the corridor, Andrew's almost as loud as hers over the phone.
Lorne spied her coming from the opposite direction, twirling her hair as she made arrangements to meet Andrew in the lobby. The go-getters didn’t need him, and a little distraction from the gloom and doom was just what he needed. He waited until Harmony had snapped shut her phone and sauntered over.
"Hey, my little powder puff of pink delight, did I hear the magic word ‘shopping’? And for shoes no less? Well, baby – count me in. My trotters are crying out for a revamp – something exotic, lizard maybe – and what do you say we squeeze in a pedicure too? In this town, flash enough cash and they'd get the nail file out to a horn-toed grunztill!"
Harmony considered; yeah – that could be fun. And Lorne did know all the best demon bars. Not like he'd complain if she spent Angel's money.
"Okay, that sounds great! We just need to pick up Andrew and we're away."
Arm in arm, the two demons hit the lobby, blissfully unaware of the mayhem about to hit.
+ + + + +
Buffy hugged Cordelia and left, speaking quietly to Willow on her way out but incapable of saying much as she struggled to compose herself. She didn't want Spike to see she'd been crying. Cordy told her that the trials would begin within the hour and she wasn’t going to waste what might be the only time they'd ever have on tears.
She didn't spare Angel a glance as he lay bound on the floor, simply stalked past him as if he didn't exist.
Willow's heart broke for her friend. But she was ever the optimist and chose to believe that Spike would find a way to make it through. He’d never been a quitter and it would take more than the latest apocalypse to rip him from Buffy's side now he'd finally got her, body and soul. Still, no harm in seeing if she could tip the scales somewhat. She excused herself and headed back to the room she shared with Kennedy, preparing herself to communicate with the Coven in England and beg the blessing of the Goddess.
Giles had removed himself to the library in search of further information about the ritual Spike had used to restore Drusilla to health back in Sunnydale. Cordelia had confirmed that it would be basically the same, the only difference being that if Spike survived the trials he would be given a chance to continue his existence. If he failed – well, the ritual only needed his blood...
By unspoken agreement, the founder members of the Fang Gang drew together near to where Angel lay, bound both physically and mystically. They watched him for a while in silence, his face shifting between his vampire and human visage every now and then.
Faith hung back, feeling out of place, a spare part, but she didn't dare leave. If he was to get free, she was the only one with a hope of handling him. She just prayed she could do what was necessary if it came down to it. She remembered the night in the alleyway, the rain beating down on her as Angel held her and let her cry and scream. He'd saved her that night, set her on the path to redemption. She dreaded to think what would have happened had she carried on the path she'd started. Wincing, she dared a glance at Wesley. She felt sick when she thought of the pain she'd inflicted on him for no better reason than he'd been her Watcher. And that in itself was tangled mess in her head; she'd wanted so much to belong, wanted somebody to be proud of her but at the same time didn't feel like she deserved anybody's kindness or good regard. She was her own worst enemy back then, a ticking bomb that would take down anybody near her when she blew.
She'd hurt every one of the people in this room in one way or another. And still they accepted her, welcomed her even. Wes had been wary and no wonder. But eventually even he'd treated her decently.
She still didn't feel she deserved it, but Robin was helping her work that out. Robin. Her breath hitched in her throat. She daren’t let herself hope that he would recover, kept expecting the bed to be empty when she went to see him. He was coming round bit by bit and the doctors told her he was getting stronger and it was only a matter of time. But she couldn't allow herself to believe it. Because if she did, she'd have to admit that her feelings for him were more than just admiration for a fellow warrior who happened to be a great fuck. But he’d been very persistent, chipping away at her defences, making her smile. Her lips curved just thinking about him.
And all of this was possible because Angel had given her a second chance.
She'd fight to give him one too.
Fred spoke softly, eyes never leaving Angel. "Does it feel like we've been here before? Watching and waiting, hoping that it's Angel who wakes and not Angelus?"
Gunn put his arm around her, ignoring the slight tightening of Wes' lips at the familiar gesture.
"Yeah, seem to recall a slight problem of the missing soul variety. But Lorne is adamant that this is Angel, the soul's still there. It’s just not doing its job, Fred.”
"I’ll say! But then again – Lorne said that it was Angel last time when it clearly wasn't."
Cordelia cut in.
"It is Angel. And before you ask, yes – I'm sure."
"So, what do we do now? Are the trials... I mean, the last time - when Angel faced them - he took off. Do we have to go to the same place?"
"No. The trials are different for each participant. It's a test of character; the Powers will assess and measure as they need to. The trials could be physical or mental. Hell, they may even give him a free pass – I just don't know. But whatever – we need to go get Spike and get started. Volunteers?"
"I'll go." Fred barely let Cordelia finish speaking before she jumped in. She wanted to talk to Spike, let him know she was there for him, and this was the ideal opportunity. Ignoring Wesley's pained look – whilst secretly thrilled by it and wanting to explore exactly why he seemed to be jealous of the attention she was giving Spike – she shrugged off her white coat and headed towards the medical wing.
+ + + + +
Buffy slowed as she approached Dawn's room. She looked around for a mirror; she didn't want Spike's last memory of her to be puffy-eyed and bedraggled. Oh, stop that Buffy! Why are you assuming he's bought the one way ticket? Oh yeah – because your life sucks beyond recognition and it would be some weird alternate reality universe if you actually got to be happy.
She watched through the window, quelling the tears that threatened to spill over as Spike smoothed Dawn's hair and dropped a kiss to her forehead. He was saying goodbye. Suddenly, she was transfixed by cornflower blue eyes that held her captive with their intensity. Her vampire always knew when she was near, and always made her the centre of his attention. Why had it taken her so long to realise that? She'd wasted years when she could have had more love and happiness than most women had in a lifetime. And now she might lose everything. She’d been so stupid. Painting on a smile that wouldn't fool Spike for a second, she walked towards him and enveloped him in a Slayer-strength hug, her head buried in his chest.
"Sort things out, love?" his voice thrummed in his chest, its vibration comforting.
"Pretty much."
"Good. Me and the 'Bit have been catching up. 've told her I'm gonna be keeping an eye on her so she'd better knuckle down to her studies and make us proud. I know she heard me. She won't let me down."
Buffy swallowed down the tears again. He really didn't expect to come through this and he was making his peace with those he loved. But dammit! She was NOT going to lose him again.
"Neither will I, Spike. So stop this and listen to me! We’re together and I'm not letting anybody take you away from me. I'm the Slayer, right? Well – a Slayer actually but...don't you think I've earned some consideration from the Powers? I don't give my heart easily – didn’t I fight you every inch of the way? I never dreamed I’d love anyone the way I love you. You are my heart and I'm not about to give up on that." Buffy poked him in he chest to reinforce her point. “And neither are you!”
Once again, Spike melted at her words. She really, really loved him. She was gorgeous – all indignant determination. So what the fuck was he doing acting like a pathetic wanker and letting the Powers stitch him up? He was the Big Bad – he never gave up on his own. Bring it on – he'd fight for his girls and nobody, not even the Powers, would tell him what he should do.
Back in the lab, Cordy's eyes glazed over, her voice dropping an octave or two as she spoke for the Powers.
"It begins."