Come Back to Me

by Spikesdeb

Chapter 6

Time froze in the artificially lit space, all eyes focused on the new arrival taking centre stage.  As the scream died from his lips, Spike dropped into a defensive crouch, his head whipping round as he struggled to get his bearings.  

Where the fuck was he?  The last thing he remembered was exquisite pain searing through him as the Slayer hightailed it out of the cavern at the last minute.  Was this hell?  Since when did hell have wall-to-wall carpeting and shiny desks?  Did hell have…?  

“Angel!”  Spike spat out the name incredulously, then continued with more force; “Angel, Angelus… where the fuck are we?”

The mood broken, the observers converged on the vampire causing him to take a step back… and into the body of the desk behind him.  Feeling a dragging sensation as his legs merged into the solid surface, Spike looked down and then up at the curious faces.   

“Bugger.” 

He scanned the other occupants of the room.  “Bloody hell – Harmony?”  His heart sank even further.  “Please don’t say I’m doomed to spend eternity listening to you prattle on about sodding unicorns.  I was trying to save the bloody world; you’d think I’d get some credit for that.  Red, Whelp, Nerd-boy…you all bought it too?  What’re you doing in hell?  Well maybe Red for the whole ‘end of the world’ thing but … Buffy…?” 

His voice tailed off as his brain caught up with it.  No; not dead – he could hear their heartbeats, smell their blood.  So what the fuck was going on! 

“Angel!  You tell me now why I’m here, where here is, and where Buffy is or I’ll…….” 

“You’ll what, Spike… walk through me to death?  You don’t appear to be all there, in case you hadn’t noticed, not that I ever thought you were.  Where you are is Wolfram and Hart, LA; why you’re here is anybody’s guess.  Where Buffy is, that’s none of your business.” 

With a snarl of pure rage, Spike launched himself at the darker vampire, roaring with frustration as he passed right through his body and ended up the other side of the office wall.   

Angel turned to face the spot where Spike had disappeared, folding his arms and smiling smugly as he waited for his errant descendant to come back.  It seemed that was something Spike was always destined to do; come back where he wasn’t wanted.  Back to Sunnydale, back to Angel, back to unlife.  And back to Buffy.  Angel clenched his jaw at that last thought.  Not if he had anything to do with it.  Just because he’d temporarily been supplanted didn’t mean he’d just tie her up in a bow and have her delivered to Spike in a nice shiny package.  He loathed the thought of them being together.  

Buffy’d had a rough time and was confused and deluded; yeah they’d had the talk and he’d conceded that Spike was the one she loved.  But that had just been a sop to her feelings.  In time she’d come to her senses and realise he’d have been no good for her, the last thing she needed.  Even while they were exchanging words, he knew that she’d soon put memories of the bleached pest behind her and return to where she belonged, in his arms; sans her faux widow’s weeds, of course.  He’d do his damnedest to see that Spike didn’t get within a mile of her.  It was for her own good; she needed to get back to normal.   

And it was for Spike’s own good too, he reasoned.  Slayer + Vampire = relationships laced with doom, gloom, an inordinate amount of fighting and sweaty palms.  He was head of the family and the younger vampire would fall in line.  He’d realise that, realise that Angel was just looking out for him.  In time.   

***************************** 

Buffy was slumped in the chair at her sister’s bedside, dozing fitfully.  Her eyes bore dark circles that told their own tale of restless days and sleepless nights.  First it was the loss of her lover that caused her to count stakes in the middle of the night; now it would be the sight of her usually animated sister lying still and silent surrounded by beeping machines.   

Suddenly, the Slayer sat bolt upright – eyes wide and wild.  “Spike?” she whispered incredulously as her pulse quickened.  Standing, she dashed to the doorway of the room and looked outside, scanning the corridors for something - anything.  Finding nothing but the usual emptiness, she turned and went back to stand at Dawn’s bed, wringing her hands and pacing agitatedly.   

“What the hell was that?” she murmured to herself.  Looking down at her sister’s serene face, she went with the urge to stroke her long hair, cupping her cheek in her palm before turning again to go to the doorway again. 

“Ok Buffy, freak much?  Dreaming again, dorkgirl.  Spike’s gone.  No ‘I’ll be back’ this time.  And suddenly the whole nunnery thing seems an attractive proposition.  I must be losing it.”  A mirthless chuckle to herself after her Scooby monologue then Buffy settled back into the chair, checking that Dawn was still breathing easily and smoothing the covers as she did so.   

A few minutes later, Dawn’s doctor entered the small room, all efficiency and detached professionalism with a clipboard.  Buffy hovered at his shoulder while he checked the readouts from the pulsing equipment, hindering his movement around the bed. 

The Wolfram and Hart employee discovered that no amount of “I can’t really say until the test results are back” explanations were sufficient to pacify the tiny bundle of highly strung nerves commonly going by the name of Slayer.   

Standing to the side of the bed, her arms crossed, foot tapping out a staccato rhythm, head tilted in unconscious imitation of her missing soul mate, Buffy demanded an update on her sister’s condition. 

Stammering as he was assaulted by the intense hazel glare, the doctor explained as best he could.  “Well...the th-thing is Miss Summers…..actually I – I – I don’t know…well…” 

Rolling her eyes, Buffy advanced on the wide-eyed young man, backing him up against the side of Dawn’s bed. 

“My sister is under your care.  She’s not awake.  She should be.  Fix it.” she growled. 

“I – I - I’m trying to Miss Summers, really I am.  But at the moment…” 

The rest of the sentence tailed off, the unspoken words telling Buffy exactly what the situation was.  Dawn’s coma was a mystery. 

Backing off, Buffy dropped once again into the chair, head bowed and her agitated hands dragging the honey-gold locks back from her face. 

Leaning forwards, she leant her elbows on her knees, her hands supporting her head at either temple as she contemplated her options. 

The doctor filed his case notes and left, casting a backwards glance at the Summers girls before heading on up to see Angel and report in. 

****************************** 

As the bemused individuals looked around Angel’s office and at each other, time ticked slowly until the black and blonde frenzy bowled back in through the wall and through Angel’s smirking form.   

The smirk disappeared.  “Don’t do that!” he growled, whirling to face Spike’s incorporeal body as it unfolded from the floor. 

“Well, I can’t help it if I’m suddenly all go-throughable, now can I?” 

Snarling, Angel took a step towards the grinning ghost.   

“What you gonna do, Granddad?  Can’t exactly hit me now can you?  Reckon I could get to like this gig.  Hang round the old place, bond with the family, you know?  Make sure you’re never too lonely; help lighten the broodiness a tad.” 

Angel stared at Spike, hands curled in fists at his side, before gritting his teeth and turning back to the group. 

“Wesley, Giles.  Find out what the hell is going on here.  I’ll be…elsewhere.”   

Designer jacket wafting behind him, Angel stalked out of the double doors slamming them behind him with such force that it dislodged a pair of crossed swords from their place on the wall to land with a clatter on the floor. 

All eyes turned to Spike, arms folded, cocky smirk affixed to his face.  His eyes were aglow with gleeful mirth.  In reality he didn’t know which way was up but he wasn’t about to show his confusion to this lot. 

“Here we are now.  So, like I said – where’s Buffy?” 

There were various murmurings amongst the group; none coherent.  Lots of shifting of feet and coughing ensued. 

“Come on, people!  I know you’re all hiding something from me – I can smell it on you.  Where is she?  Thrown her out again, have you?” 

Willow glanced nervously along the group before stepping forward towards Spike.   

“Sp-Spike?  Hi there!  Erm, how’ve you been?” 

A raised eyebrow and a tilted head was her only answer.  Sensing that the vampire wasn’t going to be stalled much longer, she continued. 

“Erm, the thing is, Spike, Buffy’s kinda busy right now – lot’s going on.  She’s got a bit of a problem she’s working thr…“ 

“What sort of a problem?  Is she in danger? Where the bloody hell IS SHE?” 

Willow backed away from the suddenly vamped out and threatening figure, the fact that he couldn’t actually hurt her not penetrating her instinctive “flee the monster” reaction.  Searching behind her for assistance from the rest of the crowd, she whispered, “Giles?” 

“Spike.  Please.  Try to calm down.  Buffy’s not in any danger, she’s just dealing with a situation that has arisen.  I’m sure that if we talk things through you’ll understand why we don’t think it’s the right time to let you go to her.  I really don’t think she’d be able to deal with it emotionally.” 

“Is that right, Rupert?  Still running her life for her?  Well, last time I looked Buffy was an adult and adults make their own decisions – or are you gonna want to wipe her arse for her forever?” 

Xander surprised everyone by storming past Willow and Giles and coming to a halt a hairsbreadth from the snarling vampire. 

“Look, deadbeat – Buffy’s fine.  We are looking after her.  She doesn’t need you to start sniffing round her again and making her uneasy.  She needs to be strong.” 

“Strong!  And that’d be something you know all about, isn’t it, Harris?  Suddenly come over all manly now that you know I can’t touch you?  Well, why don’t you just back off; Buffy loves me – she told me.  And if she’s in trouble, I need to be with her.  I don’t know why I’m back but I’m bloody well not going to waste one second wonderin’ about it when I could be with her.  Now tell me where the fucking hell is she?!” 

Fred had watched the Scoobies’ reactions to Spike’s sudden appearance and was nonplussed.  They loved Buffy, that was clear, and they hated to see her in pain.  The sight of her mourning her shattered heart, sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe, had broken them.  So how come they were intent on keeping Spike from her?  Surely they’d want her to be happy, and after her declaration in front of them all they had to know that she’d be absolutely ecstatic to discover that Spike was back?  Was she using insane troll logic?  Or were they?   

“Hi there!” she trilled as she walked up to the still-life that was Spike and Xander facing off.  “Spike?  I’m Fred – well Winifred, but nobody calls me that -- well maybe my Mom and Dad, Auntie Martha, well most of my fam-…but that’s not relevant really…please, call me Fred.” 

Spike broke the eye contact he’d maintained with Xander to glance at the babbling bint intruding on the testosterone battlefield.  He was quite taken with what he saw; a willowy little girl with huge eyes and a radiant smile. 

“Fred.  Right.” 

“Wanna go for a walk, Spike?”  She finished the invitation with a mega-watt grin and a sweet girlish giggle.  Spike couldn’t help smiling back at her.  

“A walk?” 

“Yeah, a little stroll – so’s we can get acquainted.  I’ll give you the tour….” 

“It’s a wonderful tour, Spike!” Wesley piped up seizing on the opportunity to distract the vampire whilst they tried to find out what he was and why he was back. 

Xander backed off, looking as if the wind-up mechanism that propelled him forwards had wound down.  Merging once more with the shadows, he resumed his hunched introspection. 

“Well, okay, Tex, but only for a little while.  I want answers; if I don’t know where Buffy is when I get back, there’ll be trouble.” 

Despite the fact that all present in the room knew that in his present state he couldn’t actually hurt them, his words still sent a shiver through every one of them.  And each of them heaved a sigh of relief as the slight figure of the Southern belle led the angry vamp away through the doors to the hallway. 

***************************** 

Angel was heading for the elevator to his apartment when he was stopped in his tracks by the doctor. 

“Mr Angel, sir!  You asked to be kept up to date on Dawn Summers’ condition.” 

Angel didn’t stop his stride, barking out, “Talk” as he continued to the elevator. 

“Well, sir there’s no physical reason for the coma.  We’ve taken blood samples, urine samples, tissue samples – none of the tests show an abnormal reading.  Brain wave activity’s within normal parameters for her age, no visible trauma anywhere on her body save for some bruising that most likely occurred when she passed out and hit her head.    In short sir, we’ve hit a brick wall.  There’s no medical reason why she won’t wake up.” 

“Well look elsewhere.  This is supposed to be a demon law firm – scare up a demon and cut off his bits until you find out what the hell is happening.  Do I have to think of everything around here?” 

With that, the doors to the elevator closed leaving behind a quivering doctor, who was suddenly wishing he hadn’t been so quick to sign the blood contract in order to pass his final exams. 

***************************** 

“…..and this is the lab; I live here mostly – well, not live, I have an apartment but I spend a lot of time here.  You wouldn’t believe the things you can get from the stores.  Just last week I needed a litre of mercury.  Now I would have thought there’d be a delay but no – there it was quick as you like – ha! ‘Cause it’s quicksilver, yeah?” 

Spike wasn’t listening to the actual words the bint was babbling, but the sound wasn’t unpleasant to his ears.  Her voice was melodious and tinkling and he’d found himself calming as he walked at her side whilst taking the grand tour.  His features evened out to his human visage and he realised that he was finding the company of this young woman very soothing.  In a different life he’d have marked her down as “lunch”; maybe in this one he could mark her down as “friend”.  She certainly didn’t seem fazed by the fact he was a vampire, seemed comfortable and unafraid in his presence.  Of course, in his present state he couldn’t even lick her, never mind bite so maybe that had a lot to do with it.  But somehow he got the sense that even if he could bite her she’d flash him those big round eyes and he’d end up fawning at her feet like a good puppy.  She just seemed nice, decent. 

“Spike?  You wanna rest or are you ok to carry on?” 

“Ghost here, luv.  Don’t rightly think I need a rest.  But if you need a sit down I don’t mind.” 

“Well, maybe a short rest.  Just while I get myself a soda.” 

As Spike stood, unable to rest against anything, as he’d found out to his horror, Fred sipped on her drink and eyed him from beneath long lashes. 

“You wanna talk about it, Spike?” she queried softly. 

“About what, luv?  Give me a clue here…” 

“Buffy.  The cavern.  Anything really.” 

Spike clenched his jaw at her words.  Buffy.  The cavern.  Closing his eyes he recalled the last time he’d seen her. 

“I love you…….  No, you don’t…but thanks for saying it…….” 

It had cost him everything to say those words to her.  He’d waited so long for her to tell him that she loved him.  He’d almost given up hope.  The final three nights before the battle had been the happiest of his entire existence.  When he’d found her curled up in the bed of that abandoned house after that bitch Faith and the others had turned on her, he’d been so relieved to find her safe.  He felt his dead heart lurch in his chest when she turned her tear-filled eyes on him, looking so forlorn – so broken.  Like she’d given up on everything.  When she’d asked him to stay, he’d felt at peace for the first time in forever.  And when she’d patted the bed at her side and asked him to hold her……. 

After he’d woken and seen her note, he’d feared she’d deny any connection between them as she’d done before.  He’d had horrifying flashbacks to the night in the bathroom when he’d become crazed by her constant denial of any feelings between them.  She felt something, he knew she did.  But the way to show that wasn’t to force the girl down and rip at her robe.  Don’t hurt the girl.  That had become his personal mantra during his wrestling with his new soul.  He wouldn’t ever hurt her again.  His every remaining second would be dedicated to protecting her, trying to right that appalling wrong.   

The conversation they’d had following his return to Revello Drive made his soul burn with joy and hope.  She’d felt something; she’d been there with him.  She admitted it, finally.  As he gazed into her eyes, he felt connected to the world, a part of it; a feeling he thought he’d never have again.  And he wanted to protect the world, make it safe.  So, trying to convey the depth of his love for her in his eyes he turned away – “Let’s go and be heroes” he’d said. 

After he’d seen her kiss Angel, he felt the soul shatter inside him and the demon wanted to rend and ravage.  Why the fuck should he care what happened to the world if it was filled with fickle bitches who sucked face with their exes at the drop of a hat.  He wanted to kill something then, preferably a warm something, filled with blood.  But he didn’t; the soul regrouped and hit him hard before he could even formulate a plan.  So he’d returned to his basement and pounded his pain out into the punching bag.   

Even though he was hurting and angry with her, all the bitterness melted away when she descended the basement steps.  His still heart almost burst with the love he felt.  His beautiful, golden girl, so tiny and fragile-looking yet filled with such steely determination to win through against evil.  He would lay down his unlife at her feet if it meant she didn’t have to face any more pain.  He’d always be Love’s Bitch where Buffy was concerned – and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He snarked at her anyway, played the Big Bad to get a reaction from her.  She’d pouted and mouthed off at him, hands on hips, moaned about vampires being disgusting.  He’d had to chuckle at that – well, yeah; evil!  But what mattered was that she’d stayed.  She wanted to stay, with him, be held by him.  And not for sex; he was used to being her sex-toy – this was different.  This involved feelings, actual feelings not lust feelings, and he’d give up the entire repertoire of their lovemaking history just to have that night again with her, looking into her eyes and stroking her hair.   

The whole “no you don’t” speech had been the most difficult thing he’d ever done.  But he’d accepted that he was going to be on the missing in action list; he didn’t want her on it too.  He told her what he thought she needed to hear, anything to get her away from him and out of the cavern.  Anything so she would live. 

And she was alive.  He had to see her, tell her why he’d brushed off her tear-filled declaration of love.   

“So, Tex.  This is just dandy, but I need to see Buffy.  Where is she?” 

Fred had made a decision while conducting the grand tour.  The others may not believe that his love was real, may want to keep Buffy and Spike apart; but who were they to make a decision like that.  Hiding the truth was never the right thing to do.  She knew what it was like to be in love with someone and not able to do anything about it.  Try as she might, her feelings for Wesley were growing daily but she figured she’d missed that boat after picking Charles instead of him at the enchanted ballet.  Hindsight was a wonderful thing!  So, Fred the Fixer would play Cupid to another couple and maybe that way she’d quieten the fluffy pink cherubs racing round in her own heart. 

“I’ll take you to her.” 

******************************** 

The rhythmic sounds of the beeps that measured and recorded Dawn’s heart rate were soothing in a way, mesmerising even.  Buffy’s glazed eyes saw the shape of her sister’s sleeping form, but didn’t focus.  She was beyond tired, beyond freaked, beyond scared.  Dawn was her world now; she couldn’t lose her.  Willow, Xander, Giles – she loved them, they were part of her life, her history.  But Dawn was her future.  She owed it to her to make it better, make her forget the pain and losses of her past.   

Rising from the chair and stretching to work out the kinks from too much sitting, Buffy walked over to her sister’s bed.  She was so pale against the blue hospital sheets, her dark hair dull and lank.  Buffy remembered the day her mom brought her sister home, wrapped in a baby blanket – all squirmy, her face red from screaming.  Or rather, she fake-remembered – the monks had built that memory for her along with all the others.  It didn’t matter; she was her baby sister, no matter where she came from.  And she would protect her with her life, as the monk had told her.  She reached out her hand and smoothed the hair away from Dawn’s forehead.  Smiling to herself, she bent her head and kissed her sister’s cheek, whispering “Sleep Dawnie, rest.  Everything’s going to be alright.” 

Fred watched through the window, then turned to look at Spike as he stood beside her gazing hungrily at the woman he loved as she tended to the girl he thought of as his sister. 

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