Falling Into You
By Spike SpeigelThe Doctor Is Out
She looked on, seeing Spike lunging at her. Her instinct clicked as soon as her brain processed the image. Prospective lover was put on hold as the Slayer came to the forefront. She moved quickly, her hands, grappling with his, almost as if was a test of strength, as if they were trying to find out which one was truly the stronger. Buffy’s mind finally caught up with the cacophony of images that she had just been submerged in, regaining her ability to speak. “Spike, we don’t have to do this.” She couldn’t take her eyes away from his face. His vampiric face. And his deep blue eyes staring back at her in hatred.
“Like hell we don’t.” Spike couldn’t help but smile at her. The stupid tart was trying to plead for her life. He was going to enjoy this. “Gonna show you what happens when you play with a man’s emotions, bitch.” Spike flipped her hands away from his, his hands landing on her chest, forcefully pushing her off her feet. Buffy fell backward, her hands splayed out to brace the impact. She looked up, expecting Spike to attack her while she was down. Instead, he just stood there, looking at her, that spiteful grin still on his face.
“What are you waiting for?” Buffy didn’t know why she said it, but it was out there. She hated being here. She hated the fact that she was being played with once again. Her love life was one big cosmic joke. And now, the one she thought knew her the best was trying to end her life. She expected Spike to deliver the deathblow, but it never came. Instead, he stood there, his face relaxing back into his human persona. However, his smile stayed. That damn hateful smile.
“Uh uh. You don’t get it that easy.” Spike waved his hand at her, indicating for her to get up. “I want to relish every moment until I hear your last gasp.” Buffy slowly got up; still on the defensive in case Spike was lying. She regained her composure, once again on her feet.
“I’m not going to fight you, Spike. I only want to help you.” Spike laughed when he heard this. Buffy couldn’t take it anymore, his hatred hurting her now. “Stop, please.” Her voice was a whisper, sadness seeping into every word. Spike looked her over, not understanding her reaction. According to Doc, she wanted him dead. According to his visions, she hated him. So, why was she acting like this? Like she was truly upset by his actions. Because she was still playing the same game. The one that would lead to him being turned over to the Council. The one where she would betray him. The one where she would break his heart.
“Fine then. Fight. Don’t fight.” Spike’s face went back into vampire mode. However, his eyes remained human. Buffy hated seeing him like that. It was almost as if he was taunting her. Showing her that the man and the monster were one and the same. Maybe they always were. The smile disappeared from Spike’s face, a serious tone now encompassing it. “Don’t make much of a difference to me. Either way, I’m putting you in the ground.”
Giles gathered his weapons into a bag, Xander grabbing an ax from Buffy’s weapons trunk. If Doc was somehow behind Spike’s sudden reappearance, they had to know for what purpose. Buffy’s life might well depend on it. The women looked on, uneasy about what was going on. Anya moved to Xander’s side, trying to dissuade him. “Don’t go, Xander.” He turned back to see the concern and fear in her eyes.
“We have to go, An. If Doc has something to do with Spike, we gotta know. Who knows what those two have planned for Buffy.” Dawn spoke immediately upon hearing Xander’s accusation.
“Spike has nothing to do with Doc, Xander!” Even now, Xander still didn’t trust Spike. After everything he had done for them. After he had given his life to save the world, to save her. “How dare you say that?!?” Tara slowly placed her hands on Dawn’s shoulders, gently squeezing them. Xander moved over to Dawn, ax to his side.
“Dawn, Spike’s a killer. And now he’s into something with Doc? That can only mean bad news for Buff…” Dawn hit his hand away, hating the accusation he was making. Spike would never hurt Buffy, would never hurt her. Dawn was about to defend Spike, but Giles interrupted.
“We don’t have time for this.” He moved toward Xander, motioning him to take the weapons bag. Giles turned his attention to Dawn. “Dawn, we don’t know whether Spike is himself or not. This Doc fellow may have done something to him, something that Spike might not be able to fight.” Frustration was clearly visible on Dawn’s face. “Until we know for certain, we have to assume the worst.” Dawn sighed, her demeanor relaxing but still angered.
“But Spike’s changed.” Giles softly smiled at Dawn, wishing for the time when he was that innocent.
“Dawn.” She looked up to Giles, noting the soft smile on his face. “I promise, we’ll figure out what’s going on. Until then, just be careful around Spike if he comes around, okay?” Dawn wanted to object, but knew that Giles was only looking out for her best interest. Even though she knew in her heart that Spike would never hurt her, or anyone else, she decided to reluctantly agree with Giles to put him at ease.
“Okay.” He nodded his head at her, then looked at Tara and Anya. “Stay with her and wait for Buffy to come back. Tara answered.
“Of…of course.” Giles gave Tara a comforting smile. She still got nervous when the situation got tense. But she didn’t run. For that, she would always have Giles’ respect. Giles turned to Xander, seeing Anya speaking to him.
“Don’t get killed.” Anya was holding Xander’s free hand, a forced smile on her face. She didn’t feel like smiling right now, not knowing what her husband to be was about to do. Xander gently chuckled.
“Promise. No getting killed.” He leaned in closer, gently kissing Anya on the lips. He pulled back, a smile on his face. “Still got an altar to get to.” Anya genuinely smiled now. She’d marry Xander. For better or worse. However, she knew the truth. It would only be the better she’d see from him. Xander turned to Giles, handing him the bag. “Ready, Watcher man?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Giles walked out of the house, not looking back. “And stop calling me that. Make me sound like a bloody peeping tom.” Xander laughed at Giles’ joke, following him out.
Buffy could only dodge so fast. It seemed as though Spike was quicker now. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t fought him in so long, but she could no longer read his moves. She thought he was going to throw a right, but instead she found herself jumping a leg sweep. The inability to read him was causing her to make sloppy mistakes. While she didn’t want to hit him, she found herself almost having to out of necessity. Had it been Angelus, she could have eventually gotten the better. But Spike. The angry, hate filled Spike. She found herself hoping for a miracle. She found herself thinking back to the night when she asked him about how he killed the two Slayers. Maybe Spike was finally there. Maybe he was having his one good day.
“Come on, Slayer. Put your heart into it!” It almost sounded like he was enjoying himself. Buffy couldn’t help it, but she found the anger building in her as well. She finally let her fist fly, connecting with his jaw. Spike’s head spun to the right, Buffy still holding her fist up, as though she didn’t believe what she had done. Spike turned his head back, a grin on his face. “About time you showed your true colors.” Buffy was still in shock when Spike delivered a roundhouse kick to her face. She stumbled backward, trying to curtail the hatred building in her. She wouldn’t resort to hurting him. To killing him. She couldn’t. Could she?
“Spike, I don’t want to hurt you.” Before she could turn back around to face him, she felt his arm wrapped around her neck, slowly yet forcefully constricting around her throat. His other hand was gently tousling her hair, almost playfully.
“Don’t look like I gotta worry about that, luv.” He whispered in her ear, his new breath sending shivers up her spine. “When I think you’re about to show me the real you, you end up saying the same tripe.” He squeezed harder, his voice swelling. “I’m getting tired of these damn games, bitch.” He pulled her hair back, her face looking to the heavens. “Aren’t you?” Buffy’s leg swung backward, her foot landing squarely to his groin. Spike quickly loosened his grip on her, a sharp exhale hitting the back of her neck. Buffy’s hand instinctively went to her throat, massaging the soreness there. She looked back to see Spike huddled over, one knee on the ground. Buffy spoke, noting the hoarseness in her voice.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. But if I have to beat some sense into you, I will.” Spike looked up, his smile now gone. All that was left on his face was abhorrence.
“Give it to me good, Buffy.” Buffy felt her fists clench. She remembered those words. He had spoken them in the alley behind the Bronze. When he tried to kiss her. When she pushed him away, throwing money in his face. He remembered. There was no doubting it now. He remembered. And he wanted her dead because of it. She had to know. She had to make sure.
“Spike, you remember, don’t you?” She could see the hint of confusion on his face as he pulled himself up. “You remember that night, when…” She didn’t want to say the words. To her, that was a different Buffy. A different Spike. Two people that hadn’t realized that they were meant for more. More than this. But, she had to rekindle the past in order to insure the present. “When we talked about you killing Slayers.” Spike stood there, motionless, contemplating her words. He wasn’t sure where she was going with this. But he’d play along. Killing her now or later, it didn’t matter. She’d be dead by the end of the night.
“What of it?” Buffy stayed her distance, eyeing his reaction. His posture was still defensive, but relaxed. She decided to test her theory out.
“Is there anything else you remember? Anything about us?” Spike laughed at her question. She wanted to know what he knew. What the hell. Tell her what he remembered.
“Oh yeah. I remember enough.” Buffy’s response startled him.
“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” Buffy could see that he didn’t. Now was her chance. It was a small opportunity, but she had to use what was available to her. “The first time we made love? Do you remember…” Spike spoke, halting her questions.
“You’re lying. You’re trying to confuse me like you did earlier.” His voice was softer now, as though he wanted to believe her but knew better of it.
“When did I confuse you?” Buffy had no idea what he was talking about.
“Oh yeah. You don’t know.” Spike began to shake the insecurity away, the memory of kissing Buffy in her living room, in his doorway, too much for him to cope with. “Let me guess, you kiss people you wanna kill, innit right? Like a bloody black widow you are!” Buffy could feel the fury emanating from his voice.
“I only kiss people that I care about. People I love.” Spike hated her for looking at him like that. Like she cared. About him. He had heard enough. Time to finish what he came here for.
“Sorry. I’m not playing anymore, Slayer.” Buffy was about to speak but saw him advance quickly to her position. He was telling the truth. He was done listening. And with that, Buffy’s chance to get through to him.
“So, you’re sure this is the way?” Giles and Xander walked down the sidewalk, pretty much vacated since it was approaching the dead of night.
“Yeah. No way I’m gonna forget that place. Smelled like grandpa.” Xander decided to quip to alleviate the tension in the air. “Like grandpa wanting to kill you.” Giles reluctantly chuckled. Xander and Giles knew there was a possibility that Doc was behind Spike’s reappearance. However, the why was still missing from the picture. Spike was just a vampire. No, that wasn’t true anymore. He was living. He had preternatural strength and speed. But he wasn’t a vampire. Then what was he? Giles knew that only Doc had the answer for that question.
“There’s a very good chance that he’ll be waiting for us. If he planned this far ahead, knowing of Spike’s reappearance.” Xander nodded. There was a chance that this could be a trap. But they had to go. For Buffy. If Spike were indeed a threat to Buffy, they would eliminate the threat, even if it ruined their relationship with the Slayer. With their friend.
“Yeah. But the last time I met that geezer, I put a sword in his chest. How hard can it be to do again?” Xander laughed softly, not quite believing himself. He did impale Doc, but it didn’t do much. As far as they knew, there might not be a method to kill him if the situation warranted it. What would they do then?
“Well, I gather we’re about to find out.” Giles pointed across the street, indicating the building with the sign Xander had told him about. Xander took a deep breath, wondering how he got back to this place.
“I guess so.” They slowly walked across the street, unsure of what they’d find.
Buffy kept up as well as she could, but Spike ultimately got the better of her. Her lip was now bleeding, as well as her forehead. Spike didn’t have a scratch on him. The only change in his demeanor was the fact that he was no longer smiling. He was ready to end this. “Itty bitty Slayer. Can’t even handle something that’s beneath you.” Buffy was in a defensive stance, her arms close to her body. She turned to Spike but as she did, he disappeared from her vision. She scanned the cemetery only to be greeted with a fist to her midsection. Buffy exhaled sharply while she swung her right hand, connecting with his jaw. Spike took the blow, his hands now grasping her arms. “You’re pathetic, you know that?” Before Buffy could answer, Spike flung her across the cemetery, her trajectory abruptly halted when she crashed into a headstone. It crumbled almost like a graham cracker, her body registering the pain shooting through her nerve endings. She looked down at the debris, seeing the name that had graced it.
“Spike.” Talk about irony. Buffy looked up to see Spike lunging at her. She quickly rolled out of the way, Spike tumbling into the debris. Buffy scrambled to her feet, her hand reaching for her pocket. Unfortunately, her pocket was now on Spike. And with the pocket, her stake. Spike looked up, seeing the motion Buffy had made as she got up. Spike reached into the coat pocket, pulling out the stake she was looking for.
“Looking for this, Slayer?” Buffy turned to Spike, noting that he was now holding the stake in her hand. Buffy eyed him curiously as he examined the piece of wood in his palm. “Hmm, wonder what it would be like?” Buffy didn’t know what he was babbling about.
“What what would be like?” Spike never turned his gaze from the stake.
“Killing a Slayer with her own stake.” Before she could answer, Spike reared back and launched the wooden stake at Buffy. She barely moved out of the way to avoid the impact to her chest. Her arm was a different story, however. She felt the stake violently pull a hunk of flesh from her left arm. She yelled in pain, her hand gripping the now bloody wound. She looked up, seeing that he was smiling once again. “Ouch. Looks like that stings. Let daddy kiss it and make it better.” Buffy knew there was no turning back now. If she let him win, he’d only go after her friends, her family. She wouldn’t let that happen. Even if it meant losing him again.
“Come and get it then, you son of a bitch!” Spike’s smile slowly faded from his face, noting the anger in her voice. He had gotten to her. Good.
“Now that’s my girl.” He ran in her direction, his body crashing into hers, as they plowed through another tombstone.
Giles slowly opened the door, Xander standing right behind him, ax gripped in both hands. Giles was now holding a crossbow, the bag slung across his shoulder. Both men slowly, carefully, made their way into Doc’s shop. Xander, feeling the nervousness beginning to envelop him, let out a trademark Xanderism. “Think we should have rung the bell?” Giles turned back, his look one of gravity.
“Maybe.” Giles was nervous as well. They walked deeper into the shop, Giles noting the texts strewn about the room. He caught only a glimpse, but if he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Doc was interested in the Council. After all, the majority of the texts were the same ones he had read when he had first started down the path to becoming a Watcher. But why would Doc care about the Council? As if Doc had heard his thought, Giles and Xander heard a voice from behind them.
“Ah. I wasn’t expecting visitors.” Xander turned around quickly, ax held slightly over his shoulders. “Don’t bother, lad. Last time, I let you get the better of me.” Doc casually tossed his coat onto a table, strolling past Giles and Xander. Giles trained his crossbow on Doc, his gaze never wavering.
“We’re here because…” Doc interrupted Giles, never looking at him.
“You’re here because of the vampire. Or, ex-vampire? Bother. Hate this feeling, as though I’ve forgotten something.” Giles felt his finger coming down on the trigger but relaxed his grip. He couldn’t pull until he had gotten the information from the demented individual in front of them.
“That’s right.” Xander stood to Giles’ side, the ax still raised. “And you’re going to tell us what you know of it. Everything.” Doc ruefully chuckled.
“Is that right?” Doc moved over to the fireplace, stretching his hands out, savoring the heat expelling the cold from his body. “You humans can be rather humorous when you want to be. Thinking you can stop that which you can’t. Very arrogant, if I say so myself.” Xander shook his head.
“Uh, was that English?” Doc turned around, a look of puzzlement on his face. Humans could be rather dumb as well, couldn’t they? Giles interrupted the awkward silence.
“No sudden moves now. Tell us what we came here for or this bolt ends up in your head.” Giles knew his threat was shallow. Evidently, so did Doc.
“Let’s see how far you’re willing to go with this.” Doc lunged at the two, Giles instinctively pulling the trigger. The arrow plunged into Doc’s head, shattering his glasses. Both men hoped against hope that it would be enough to slow him down. It wasn’t. “Well. This is an unpleasant feeling.” Doc smiled as he quickly pulled the arrow out of his forehead. “I’ll just have to return it in kind.”
Buffy hated feeling this way. She had felt something like it once. With Angel. When he had first lost his soul. But she had grown to hate him. To the point that she could kill him. The same couldn’t be said for Spike. Her emotions were tearing her apart as they fought. She wanted to finally tell him how she truly felt, but now. Now, it wasn’t an option. Her only option was survival. For her friends. For her family. For herself. Blood trickled down her left arm, but she blocked the pain, focusing on her assailant. Her former lover. Spike’s leg flew forward to her midsection, but she dodged to the right, her own leg swinging over his, connecting with his face. Hard. Spike flew back onto the ground. He swiped under his eye, noticing the newly formed gash, blood seeping from it. He looked up, seeing the anger in her eyes. But there was something else. Was she crying? Crying for her bloody life, no doubt.
“Ooh. Baby’s finally ready to play.” He flipped up to his feet but as he did, Buffy ducked down low, her leg sweeping his out from under him. Spike fell back to the ground once again. Buffy lunged on top of him, her arms pinning him to the ground. Her emotions got the best of her.
“I hate you! Why did you have to do this?!? Why now?!?” Spike eyed her, surprise on his face. She was on the verge of tears now. “When I was so close to getting you back?!? Why?” Her voice became a whisper, her gaze still intense, full of anger and sorrow. It didn’t make sense. She should be angry. But sad? Something wasn’t right. Spike felt himself remembering. A kitchen. He was in a kitchen. And she was there. And she had been crying.
Promise me one thing?
Anything for you, luv. You know that.
Come back to me after you stop Willow. Promise me you’ll come back.
I will. For Dawnie and for you.
Now he was kissing her, she welcoming it in kind. He shook the memory away, looking back up at the woman almost to tears on top of him. Something definitely wasn’t right. No one could be that good at maintaining a charade. He had to get some space. He struggled under her, his arms eventually working their way onto her shoulders, flipping her over him.
Spike hurried to his feet, turning around quickly to see his dispatcher. However, she looked anything but. Her lips quivered, a lone tear slowly moved down her cheek, blood smattered over her face and arm. She looked less a killer and more a victim. But Spike had to kill her. She was the enemy. She would hurt him, given the chance. She would betray him. Doc had said so. And why would Doc lie to him? After all, he was the one that had told him the truth. But it all felt wrong now, looking at her in front of him. She looked lost. As though the world was ending. Spike felt conflicted, but he kept the anger in his voice. “A Slayer crying? What is the world coming to?” Buffy looked at him, hate now filling her being.
“Shut up and fight.” The sorrow tinted her voice, but he could feel the urgency, the rage, in her words. She wanted to end this as well. Fine. Let the endgame begin.
“Fine with me, Slayer.” He slowly moved to her, Buffy standing awkwardly now, her hand covering her left arm. The pain must be getting to her, but she gritted through it anyway. As Spike moved in on her, a glint of light from the ground caught his eye. He looked down, his pace slowing. His eyes honed in on the object. He bent over, palming the object in his hand. The memories came again.
I need you to keep this safe for me until I come back. Can you do that for me?
He was in their living room, the same room where she had kissed him when she tended to his wound, the one to his shoulder. He was there with Dawn.
Have you looked recently?
What do you mean? Oh. No, I haven’t, li’l bit. I’ve accepted what I am now. But it’s kinda a good luck charm; I guess that’s why I keep it.
Well, we’ll check when you come back then. Once you stop the big baddie, even though it’s Willow. We’ll check, you and me. I’m sure you’ll be in there after all this.
It’s a promise, niblet.
That name once again. Willow. What connection did he have with Willow? And why was he remembering such things. Such tender moments. About his foe and her little sister. He looked down at the pocket mirror, his reflection startling him. His face reverted back to human form, his thoughts now pulling him apart. He didn’t know what to do. All he could do was say what was on his mind. “I gave this to Dawnie? Right?” Buffy didn’t expect this. When he returned to his human guise, it had startled her, but the question left her hoping. Hoping that he was remembering. “That’s real, right?”
She stayed her distance, not wanting to startle him. She answered his question. “Yeah. You gave that to Dawn the same night you…” She stopped herself. He shouldn’t hear this. But keeping the truth from him had led to their current situation. He needed the truth. “The same night you died.” Spike’s gaze moved from the mirror, focusing on Buffy. He didn’t see hate anymore. He only saw sorrow. Sorrow and regret.
“I died?” He couldn’t comprehend her statement. “But, I’m right here.” Nothing made sense.
“That’s why we got the headstone. As a remembrance.” Buffy’s voice wavered as she spoke. “Then when we saw you at the corner mart, we couldn’t believe it. You’d come back. But you didn’t remember. Didn’t remember us.” Spike noted that her voice had grown serene, gentle. “Didn’t remember me.” It made sense. The way Dawn had hugged him when he first saw her. The way she cried in his arms. She missed him. Spike looked at Buffy, seeing that she was being sincere in her words. She still stayed her distance, but she told him what he needed to hear. But what if it was all another lie? He didn’t know what was real anymore.
“Who’s Willow?” Buffy looked at him, wondering why he asked the question. “Keep on remembering having to stop someone called Willow.” He was remembering the night. The night that he died.
“Yeah. Willow Rosenberg. Powerful witch. And my friend.” Spike looked on, surprised at the revelation.
“Wait. I had to stop your friend? From doing what?”
“From ending the world.” Spike chuckled harshly.
“Right. Like I could do that.” Buffy answered him before he could continue.
“You did.” He could hear the seriousness in her voice. “And you died for it.” Spike shook his head in disbelief. It was too much to soak in. He had died because of one of her friends. Because she wanted to destroy the world. He needed more than words.
“Don’t suppose you have any proof, Slayer?” Buffy looked at him, still surprised that Spike didn’t believe her. If he wanted proof, she’d have to give it to him.
“Think you can stop the kill fest long enough for me to show you?” Spike nodded, feeling almost ashamed when he heard the spiteful tone in her voice. “Okay, then. Let’s go get you some proof.”
Xander was huddled in the corner, still trying to shake off the blow that Doc had delivered to him. He looked up to see Giles swinging a short sword at Doc to no avail. No matter how hard he tried, Giles couldn’t connect. It was almost as though Doc was toying with them. Almost like a spider does when its prey is ensnared in its web. Xander moved to his feet, grabbing the ax that had found its way into the wall. He turned around to see Doc’s elongated tongue push Giles across the room, onto a table. Xander took the opportunity that presented itself. He charged Doc, swinging the head downward to Doc’s neck. Unfortunately, Doc scurried out of the way, the ax now finding itself embedded into the floorboard.
“Almost had me there.” Doc grabbed Xander’s wrist, wresting it from the handle. He applied pressure, enough to make the break audible. Xander screamed out, feeling his wrist no longer responding to his thoughts. Doc swung Xander in front of himself, looking up at him. “Let’s see how many more bones I can break before you lose consciousness.” Xander was about to voice protest when Giles approached Doc from behind, a vial in his hand. Doc must have saw Xander’s eyes because he pushed Xander to the ground, quickly turning around. Not fast enough to avoid the contents of the vial spilling over his face. Doc was disoriented by the fluid covering his eyes. Xander acted quickly, grabbing Doc with his good arm, locking it around his throat. Giles began to sigh relief until he saw the smile on Doc’s face. “Ghara blood? Thought you’d be able to paralyze me?” Doc flung Xander over himself and toward Giles. Giles barely moved out of the way in time to avoid the impact. As Giles looked back to Doc’s position, he saw that the madman was already on him, a snare on his lip. His hand came down on Giles’ throat, forcing him on the ground. “If that’s the best you had, I’m disappointed.” Giles spoke, a hint of frustration in his voice.
“Afraid it was.” Doc chuckled softly at the Watcher’s humor. Giles tilted his head back, looking at Xander. The lad was out cold; his body huddled over a table.
“Don’t worry. He’s still alive.” Giles turned back, his gaze falling on Doc’s smirking face. “Question is, for how long.”
They stood in front of the hospital; the same one Buffy had been to a few days ago to visit Willow. To say the trip from the cemetery to the hospital was awkward was definitely an understatement. Buffy kept on looking over to him, thinking it was all a ploy for her to lower her defenses. Based on the looks he was giving her, he was most likely thinking the same thing. She didn’t want to suspect him, but after their violent encounter, she had no choice.
Spike saw that she was still holding her arm, the one that he had wounded with her stake. The blood had dried on her arm, the wound pretty much clotted over now. He wanted to say something to comfort her, but his doubts got the better of him. She might still be playing the game. But the look on her face gave no evidence of ill will. “So, we’re here, why?” Buffy slowly walked past him, through the sliding glass doors. Spike followed, not knowing what else to do.
“Come on.” Buffy walked further into the hospital, her guard somewhat down. Spike wouldn’t do anything inside. And if he did, he’d just give her another reason. Another reason to finally kill him. They walked past the reception desk, not noticing their surroundings. However, someone noticed them.
“My God.” Buffy and Spike stopped, turning to see the nurse with a look of awe on her face. It was the same receptionist that was here when she had come to see Willow. Apparently, she remembered Buffy. “What happened to you?” By that, she meant the wound in Buffy’s arm, the cuts on her face.
“Hi, Doris. Just here to visit Willow.” The look on the nurse’s face was one of disbelief.
“But, it’s after visiting hours. And we need to take you to see a doctor, right now.” Doris’ voice was urgent as she moved from behind the reception desk. She walked toward Buffy before she had the chance to object. Doris looked to Spike. “What happened to your girlfriend, young man?” Girlfriend? Spike didn’t know what Buffy was to him anymore. He played along, wanting to get answers as quickly as possible.
“We ran into a group of thugs. Fought them off. But the li’l lady got nicked up.” Spike looked down at Buffy, seeing that she was avoiding his gaze. He couldn’t lie to himself. He deserved it. But what did it matter? As far as he knew, Doc was still telling the truth. But, then, why would Buffy be doing all this?
“Looks like you both did.” Doris pointed to Spike’s cheek, noting the gash that Buffy had given him.
“It’s nothing. Just take care of her.” Spike saw the confused look on Buffy’s face. She didn’t understand why he suddenly gave a damn about her well being. Doris gently grasped Buffy’s good arm, leading her to the infirmary, most likely to get her bandaged up. Buffy stopped for a moment, walking back to Spike.
“Room 120.” He could hear the hurt in her voice. “If you do anything to hurt her, I will kill you.” She whispered her last statement before she went off with Doris. Spike stood there for a moment, unsure of what had just transpired. He actually felt marred by her words. He didn’t want to think about it. Instead he walked down the hall, looking for the room number. His gaze moved back and forth between the walls until he spotted the room number.
“Alright then. Let’s see what’s behind door number one.” He took a deep breath, slowly walking up to the door, peering through the glass window. He stopped in front of the door, his hand on the handle. The sight in front of him made him unable to move. She lay there, her hair as red as that night. But her demeanor was one of peace, of serenity.
Yes! Power! Power!
He was back in the cemetery, streams of energy falling from the heavens. Falling onto her. Into her. Willow. He saw himself walk through the energy wake, his skin cracking and peeling. He was walking toward her.
Funny thing about power. It’s fleeting.
Then he was feeding off her. Trying to siphon enough energy from Willow to prevent her from maintaining the hell gate. And then he was back in the hospital, his hand on the door handle. Standing in front of her door. He wanted to open the door, but he feared what would happen if he did. What else he might see. What else he might remember. He was afraid that Buffy was telling the truth. Because if she was, he had just brutally attacked his friend. Maybe something more.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but the footfalls jarred him from his thought. He turned to see Buffy walking toward him, her left arm now bandaged. Also, her face had been cleaned up, a small cotton bandage on her forehead. She walked up to him, keeping out of arm’s distance. “There’s your proof.” He hated the way she spat her words at him. But he had no right to judge. Not after what he had done.
“How long has she been like this?” Buffy turned to the window, looking in on her friend.
“Over three months.” Three months. The words reverberated in Spike’s head, finally grasping what she said. Three months. He had been gone for probably three months. He had been dead. But why was he alive now? Only one man would have the answers. Because Buffy didn’t.
“Doc.” Buffy finally turned to look at Spike, not believing her ears.
“What did you say?”
“How could he show me something so different than what you’re showing me?” She could see that he had doubt, despair in his words. “And why do they both feel true?” He felt her hand on his chin, gently turning his face to her. At first, he flinched, unsure of what she was doing. But when he saw her, her eyes, he knew that this was right. That it was true.
Don’t you give up on me, Spike. Not now. Not now.
Tell me about Heaven?
I don’t remember much. I remember that I was happy. Very happy.
Think they’ll have room for a damned soul like me?
Buffy’s words floated back into his consciousness, his memories fading away. “You okay? Lost you there for a bit.” Spike slowly pulled away from her hand, ashamed by the way she was treating him. By the way he had treated her. He looked back to Willow, not wanting to look at Buffy.
“S’okay. Just remembering something.” One more question kept nagging him. He had to hear the answer. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Buffy spoke, concern in her voice.
“Tell you what?”
“The notes. Why’d you hide them from me?” Buffy never stopped looking at him.
“Giles was afraid that getting the truth this early might mess up your memory. You know, like maybe you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” Spike nodded, remembering back to his encounter with Doc’s Eye of Veritas. The memories had definitely made him uncomfortable, unsure. “Anyway, Giles said that your memory would come back in time.”
“Did he say how long?”
“He wasn’t sure. But as long as they came back, we’d wait for you.” She meant her. She’d wait for him. She still had to tell him. The tenderness in her voice triggered his memory once again. Giles was right. It was all coming back now.
I don’t want to lose you.
The tears flowed freely from Buffy’s eyes, onto him. He felt unusual. As though he wasn’t all there, lying in her arms.
Made you and Dawn a promise. We’ll be together again, Buffy. I promised.
Spike softly chuckled at his words. Buffy looked at him, a puzzled look on her face. “What’s so funny?” He didn’t turn to look at her, keeping his eyes on Willow.
“Sorry, just remembered something.” He kept his promise. He came back for them. For her. Buffy. But now he found himself wondering if it was truly the best thing. With everything that had just transpired during the night, maybe things would have been better if she had only the memories of him. Of a better life. Of a better man.
“Anything monumental?” Spike finally turned to look at her, not following the question. “The memory.”
“Oh.” He lied. “Nothing much. Just that Monty Python’s right funny.” Buffy gave him a quizzical look. “Holy Grail was bloody hilarious.” Buffy gave him a small smile, knowing that he was having trouble adjusting to his new memories. It was true. He was having trouble with these newfound memories. Because they conflicted with what Doc had told him. He needed to get the truth. “I’m going now.” He walked past her, Buffy’s demeanor now one of bewilderment.
“Wait.” He felt her hand fall on his arm, gently pulling him back. “Where are you going?” He didn’t look back.
“I’m gonna pay the doc a visit.” He felt her grip tighten as she heard his words.
“Not alone, you’re not.” Buffy was hesitant to let him go back there. The last time Spike had spoken to Doc, Spike was determined to kill her. She wouldn’t let him go alone again. “I’m going with you.”
“Like hell you are, Slayer.” He pulled his arm away from her, facing her now. “I’m not gonna let you go in there with your arm all torn up like that.” Buffy looked at him accusingly.
“Well, I have you to thank for that, don’t I?” She didn’t mean to say it but the words were out before she could process what was happening. She hated being so emotional around him. Spike opened his mouth, about to say something. But he didn’t. Instead, he turned around and walked back down the hall toward the exit. “Oh, nice one, Buffy.” She hurried after him, Spike hearing the footfalls behind him. He turned around, ready to confront the Slayer.
“Go home, Buffy. This is something I have to do alone.” Buffy stood there, wondering exactly how much he had remembered. Because he was starting to irritate the hell out of her.
“And what? Believe that madman’s lies again? Come after me again? Try and put me in the ground again?” Spike sighed, his emotions in utter turmoil. He wanted to hit her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted her. But he couldn’t. Not until he was sure of his memories.
“They weren’t lies, pet.” His hands were in his coat pockets, balled up in frustration. “Those were my memories he showed me.”
“How did he show you?”
“He had some kind of sphere. Called it the Eye of Veritas.”
“Then it probably wasn’t true.”
“So, you didn’t call me an evil, disgusting thing in front of the museum after you leveled me out?” Buffy stood there, stunned by Spike’s implication. She remembered that night. It was right after their intimate kiss at the Bronze and before their night of abandon in the desolate building. She did think of him like that before. But that was before her emotions got the better of her. Before she realized what he truly meant to her.
“Spike.” Her eyes and her voice told him everything he needed to know.
“Right, then. I’m going.” He turned his back to her, about to walk away when Buffy violently turned him back around.
“Damn it! Would you just stop and listen to me!” Spike eyed her, a look of curiosity and concern on his face. “Okay. I did say that. But that was a different time. A different me.” She was struggling for the right words, to make him understand that things were different now. But after the cemetery incident, it felt as though everything she believed was now under question. “I…I…” Spike didn’t want to listen anymore.
“Fine. Come. Don’t come. Either way, I’m getting some answers.” He pulled away from her once again, walking to the exit. Buffy didn’t speak. She just followed him out of the hospital, knowing that things would never be the same between them ever again.
Xander’s eyes fluttered open, his eyes falling onto the ground. He tried to move his hands, but found that they wouldn’t respond. At first, he thought that Doc had broken his other wrist, but he felt his fingers wiggle against something hard. Something hard and cold. He looked up to see his hands binded by shackles, attached to them a chain connected to the ceiling. Looking down, he saw that his feet were tied as well, but they dangled in midair. “Giles?” He looked around, eventually finding Giles hanging to the right of him, apparently unconscious. Blood was trickling from his forehead, his glasses nowhere to be seen. “Giles.” No response. “Giles.”
“Wouldn’t want to wake him, young man.” Xander turned to the front of the room, seeing Doc standing in the curtains that covered the doorway. Apparently, they were in the back room of his shop. Chained and strung up. Never a good combination. Doc began to walk toward Xander. “He’s going to need his energy for the next round.” Xander didn’t want to ask.
“Next round of what?” Doc’s maniacal smile graced his face, his voice a constant monotone.
“Of torture. I still owe you two for what you did to my glasses. Had them for the longest time.”
“Sorry. Next time we’ll avoid all eye accessories.” Doc chuckled, his eyes now dark black. His hand glided over Xander’s chest, not touching.
“You know, I was going to kill you quickly.” Doc’s hand flew to Xander’s chest, the palm hitting the lower right portion of his torso. Xander yelled out in anguish. “But I really loved those glasses.” Xander coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, onto his chin. “I just broke your rib.” Doc’s hand cupped Xander’s chin, lifting it up so they saw eye to eye. “Let’s see how many I can get through before you lose consciousness. The Watcher went through five.”
“Go to hell.” A devious grin and a jubilant voice was Xander’s reward.
“Let’s begin, shall we?”
They walked in silence, each not knowing what to say to the other. There were no words for what had just happened. And there were no words for what to say next. Spike reached into his jacket pocket, about to fish out a cigarette when he realized what he was doing. The laugh startled Buffy.
“What is it?” Spike turned to her, an amusing smile on his face.
“Wanted a smoke. But I forgot that this was your jacket.” Buffy meekly smiled at him.
“It’s yours, actually. It just had all my stuff in it.” Spike flashed back to the events that had led to him wearing the jacket once again. He shook the unwelcome memory, looking over to the small figure walking next to him, his eyes focusing on the bandage on her arm. He knew there was no apology for what he had done to her.
“You want it back?” Buffy shook her head, a small smile on her face.
“It’s okay. You should have it. Just don’t steal all my gum though.” They shared a small laugh before the silence returned. They walked for a while before Buffy spoke. “You sure you know where this guy’s place is?” Spike nodded, his fingers gently tracing the pack of gum in his pocket.
“Yeah. It’s like I’ve been there before. Oh, wait. I have.” His reward for such a bad joke. A soft giggle.
“That was terrible. You know that, right?”
“Guess my memory’s still wonky. Thought that was right brilliant.” He turned to her, her eyes looking back at him. Those dark green eyes. He turned away, afraid of what might happen. “God, I need a cigarette.” He could sense the disappointment in her voice as she spoke.
“Yeah. Cigarette.” Buffy was about to speak again, but Spike interrupted her.
“Here it is.” Buffy peered at the door, noting the normality of the building. And to think, a vicious demon lived in here. Will wonders never cease? “Remember, this guy doesn’t think highly of you, so…” Buffy finished his sentence.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t say anything. Stay behind you and wait till you get your answers.” Spike nodded, a smirk on his face. “Then I beat the crap out of him.”
“As long as we understand each other.” Buffy nodded at him.
“Perfectly.” She walked past him, into the front door, leaving Spike standing outside.
“Right.” Spike frowned as he followed after her.
Giles had regained consciousness when Doc broke Xander’s second rib, the screams awakening him. All Giles could do was watch as Doc continued up Xander’s chest, the hideous snapping of bone against flesh chilling him to the very core.
“I’m impressed, lad. Four ribs and you’re still awake.” Xander hung there, breathing in short gasps, the pain around his lungs too much to bear. “Want me to stop the pain? I can.” Xander’s eyes rolled up to see Doc, his head hanging down. “Just tell me and I will.” Xander’s mouth opened slightly, as though he was trying to say something. Doc leaned in closer, wanting to hear the boy’s plea before he ended his misery. Unfortunately, no plea came. Instead, Xander spit a mouthful of blood and saliva onto the old man’s face, a slight smile playing across his face as he did so. Even though he was going to die, he would go out fighting. Doc stumbled backwards, stunned at the event. He quickly wiped the liquid from his face with the back of his hand, a look of discontent on his face. “Very well. Let’s keep going then. But this time, let’s start with the tongue and work our way down.”
“Leave the boy alone.” Doc’s hand quickly clasped around the Watcher’s throat, a malevolent look on his face.
“Do not interrupt when people are talking.” His voice was almost serene as he began to squeeze Giles’ throat tighter. The gasps came faster as Giles felt the air being impeded from his lungs. His eyes began to water, feeling the darkness coming once again. “Promise you’ll behave?” Giles eyed the madman, feeling his fingernails tearing into his flesh now. Before Giles could yield defeat, there was a noise from the front room.
“Oi, mate. I’m back.” Doc removed his hand from Giles’ throat, a huge gasp escaping his lips.
“Curious. I didn’t tell him where I live.” Doc turned back to the two battered men. “Do be quiet now. Or I’ll make sure you’ll welcome death when I’m done with you.” And with that, Doc walked slowly into the front of the shop, his tail swaying under his robe.
Spike closed the door behind him, Buffy standing a few feet away from him. Spike slowly moved past her, calling out to Doc. “Oi, mate. I’m back.” Buffy looked around, a look of bewilderment on her face. It looked almost like Giles had been here, with the texts strewn around the room. She closed a book, holding it up to Spike.
“Heavy reading.” Spike nodded, noting that it was a Council text. He was somewhat surprised that Buffy didn’t recognize it. After all, all Slayers were well versed in the intricacies of the Council. But Buffy wasn’t. Or else she was feigning innocence. Spike pushed the thought from his mind. He had doubted her once and almost killed her. Not again. Not until he got the answers he needed from Doc. He’d have to add another one to the list, though. Why was Doc so interested in the Council? This went far beyond knowing one’s enemy. It was though he was looking for something specific. Before he could ponder the thought, Doc emerged from the back room, a smile on his face. However, it quickly dissipated when he saw the Slayer standing in front of him.
“Well, this is unfortunate. Thought you would have killed her by now.” Buffy placed the book back on the table, her anger building.
“What the hell did you do to him?” Spike sighed, feeling frustrated yet familiar with Buffy’s behavior. After all, when did she ever listen to him? His hand fell on her shoulder, as he slowly walked to her side.
“Glad you decided to stick with the plan, pet.” Buffy gave him a perturbed look before relenting. She folded her arms, looking on as Spike began to speak. “We need to talk.”
“My boy. Don’t tell me the Slayer’s filled your head with sweet lies.” He walked closer to Spike, staying far away from Buffy. “Didn’t I tell you she’d be your weakness?” Doc began to move to the tables to Spike’s right, as though he was trying to get in the way of something.
“Yeah, right.” Something was definitely odd now. First the awkward motion to the table, then the noticeable scar on his forehead. Doc was trying to hide something. “So, what happened to you, mate? Looks like someone got friendly with your face.” Doc’s hand gently caressed the scar left by the arrow, a slight smile on his face.
“This? I fell down.” Buffy spoke.
“Onto what? A pencil?” Spike smirked at the Slayer’s remark.
“Oh. That was supposed to be a joke? Right?” Doc’s demeanor was serious now. “Kill her now and we can go back to England to finish our work with the Council.” Something wasn’t tracking for Buffy.
“Council? As in Watcher’s Council?” Spike was confused himself.
“Don’t remember you saying anything about going back to England. All I remember was our chat about killing the Slayer.” He heard Buffy audibly groan. He turned back to her, indicating that he wasn’t contemplating it with a weak frown. She nodded her head, Spike turning back to Doc. “I want some answers. And I want them now.”
“And what answers are those?”
“My memories and your information. Kind of have conflicting perspectives.”
“How so?” Spike moved closer to Doc, his eyes peering over Doc’s shoulder. He was definitely hiding something.
“As in they’re bloody opposites.”
“But the Eye doesn’t lie.”
Spike pulled his hands out of his pockets, pulling out the pack of gum. He held it up, looking back to Buffy. “You mind?” Buffy shrugged her shoulders, indicating that she didn’t mind. But she was definitely curious. This didn’t really rank as a Juicy Fruit moment. “Not doubting the Eye. In fact, I believe that sodding sphere. Thing is…” He held his hand out, the pack of gum extended out to Doc. With a small chuckle, Doc reached his hand out, about to take a stick, when Spike grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the way and throwing him into the opposite table. “I’m starting to doubt you.” Buffy moved closer to Spike, wondering what was going on. “To start with, where’s the Watcher?” Buffy looked to Doc, noticing the lucid smile on his face.
“What are you talking about, Spike?” Spike picked up the object from the table, holding it in front of Buffy.
“Don’t think Rupert’s the kind of person to fancy a place like this.” Buffy took the glasses from Spike, turning back to Doc.
“Where is he, you son of a bitch?” Doc pushed himself away from the table, his eyes focused on Spike.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was never supposed to happen.” About time he got to the damn facts.
“What wasn’t?”
“You. Here. But here you are.” Doc moved slowly toward them, Buffy’s tense demeanor stopping him in his tracks. “And you don’t even know what you are.” Spike needed to know.
“Funny. Thought I was human.”
“My boy. You’re anything but.” Buffy wanted to know the whereabouts of Giles, but Spike needed his answers. She reluctantly remained quiet while the two men spoke.
“Then tell me. What am I?” Doc’s smile widened.
“The last thing you’d ever expect to be.” Spike moved to Doc, his anger getting the better of him. His hand flew from his side, grabbing Doc’s robe.
“Stop being so damn cryptic and tell me already.” Doc pushed away, springing back away from the couple.
“I’ll tell you after you kill the Slayer. Then we can celebrate by killing the Watcher and the whelp.” Buffy began to move toward Doc, but Spike held her back. He still needed answers.
“No deal.” Doc sighed, a look of resignation on his face.
“Very well. I’ll have to kill them all.” He casually walked toward them, a smile on his face as he looked at Buffy. “I’ll start with the Watcher and the boy. Then I’ll kill your little sister. Your friends. Your family. Everyone.” He gently chuckled. “And there’s no way you can stop me, Slayer.” He reached his hand out to her, Buffy slapping it away from her. “You couldn’t on the tower. You can’t now.”
“Where are they?!?” Doc was about to lunge at them, but Spike moved toward him, almost in a blur, his hand around his neck, slamming him against the wall.
“None of that now. Answer the lady’s question.” Doc smiled even though he was essentially helpless.
“God. You can’t even see it, can you?” Spike’s hand tensed around Doc’s neck.
“Well, since you won’t enlighten me.” At that moment, a noise came from the back room. Buffy wasn’t sure what it was. But Spike knew. “They’re in the back, Slayer. Go check up on them.”
“How…?”
“Trust me.” The words struck a chord in her. She couldn’t remember a time when she actually trusted him. Sure, she had trusted him with protecting her family, her friends. But that was because she had no other choice. But now? Buffy slowly nodded her head and moved into the back room. Once Doc and Spike were alone, Doc spoke again.
“Don’t throw this opportunity away. We have the world at our feet. Just kill the Slayer and we can begin.”
“What’s with you evil types? Always wanting the world. Why can’t you just settle for some fish and chips?” Doc struggled against Spike’s grip, finding that he couldn’t get free this time. As he struggled, they saw Buffy move back through the curtain, Xander leaning on her shoulder. Giles slumped closely behind them.
“I’m going to kill you, you sick bastard!” Buffy almost broke down when she had seen her two friends strung up like pieces of meat, tenderized by Doc’s ministrations. Doc simply smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips.
“You know you physically can’t. The boy will tell you as much. You couldn’t even begin to fathom what I am.” Buffy wanted to vent her frustration on Doc for what he had done to Dawn, to Xander, to Giles. But she had to get her friends out before she could even contemplate revenge. Spike could sense the worry she was feeling.
“Take them out of here. I’m gonna get some more answers.” Buffy was about to object when Giles lost his footing and fell onto the ground. An audible yelp emanated from his lips as he did so. Buffy tried to turn around, but Xander was hindering her.
“Oh, God. Giles.” Doc laughed at this point.
“Get used to this scene, Slayer. You’ll be seeing much more of it in the future. I promise. Every last one, I promise you.” Buffy felt the sincerity in his words and suddenly felt herself almost helpless. Like she was back with Glory. Spike spoke.
“Go on, luv. I’ll be right behind you with Rupert.” Buffy eyed him, wondering if he was in his right mind. He wanted answers so desperately. But she saw it in his eyes. He meant every word.
“Don’t take long.”
“I won’t.” Buffy carefully walked out of the shop, Xander barely conscious. Spike turned back to Doc, releasing his grip on the old man. Doc’s hand gently massaged his throat, the smile never leaving his face.
“You know I’ll kill them. We’re alike, you and me. We’re both killers.”
“That may be true…” Spike turned around, seeing Giles slowly getting to his feet. “But at least Spike has proven that he wants to change.” Doc’s laughter grew as he heard the Watcher’s words.
“Well now. An advocate from the Council. How amusing.” Giles was now leaning against a table, holding his side gingerly, the pain from the broken ribs almost too much to bear. Doc turned back to Spike, his smile disappearing. “Last chance, lad. Either you join with me or I’ll slaughter the whole lot.” Spike somberly answered.
“I won’t.” Doc was beginning to become frustrated.
“I can give you all the answers you seek.” His hand was now on Spike’s shoulder. “You know she’ll never love a monster like you.” Spike continued to eye the old man, noticing his tail swinging with delight. “But together, we can be better than the damned of this world. We can rule them all.” Spike smiled at the old man.
“But we’re all damned, Doc.” A look of shock covered Doc’s face as he heard Spike’s words.
“What?” That’s when he felt it. Spike’s hand plunged into Doc’s chest, his fingers straight.
“We’re all damned.” Spike slowly pulled his hand up the length of Doc’s body, feeling his insides separate as he did so. The last thing he saw was the look of shock on Doc’s face as his hand split his skull, the body falling to the floor. Spike gave the body one final look, two pieces from the chest up, one piece from the chest down.
He turned to Giles, wiping the remnants of Doc onto his jacket. The look on Giles’ face wasn’t one of shock. Rather, it was one of inquisitiveness. “How did you do that?” Spike smiled at Giles, a hint of sorrow in his voice.
“Man pretty much told me I could.” Giles gave him a puzzled look. “He couldn’t break my grasp. The old me would never have had a chance against that sadistic wanker.”
“But he had information you needed.” Spike placed his hands back in his pockets, noting the earnestness in Giles’ words. Giles was actually concerned about him.
“Couldn’t leave him to kill the lot of you. Don’t think Buffy’d be able to survive that.” Giles smiled at Spike, noting the obvious change in him.
“You’d be surprised what she can survive.” A small laugh from Spike.
“I guess.” Spike walked over to Giles, gently pulling Giles’ arm over his neck. “Gotta get you to the hospital to get those wounds checked out.”
“Since when did you care about my well being?” Spike answered truthfully.
“Since you’re my way into the Council.” Spike still needed answers. And right now, the only option left to him was England. Where this all began. Doc had told him one truth though. He was something more than human. What, exactly, was the question.