Perfect World

By CousinJean

Part Eight: Be All My Sins Remembered

"Here we are."

Buffy and Tara surveyed the empty cavern. "And 'here' is where?" asked Buffy.

Spike imagined the other Buffy asking that: a toss of her hair, hands on her hips, eyebrow raised. Impatience and just a hint of the old disdain underlying the sarcasm in her voice -- the combination of which would be supremely irritating if not for the spark of anticipation in her eyes. Baiting him in a verbal sparring match that would lead to ... fighting? Sex? One of them stomping off in anger? All of the above? Hell if he ever knew where they'd end up. That was half the fun.

But this Buffy's eyes held only tired wariness and well-earned loathing that -- far from spurring him to think of the snarkiest answer possible -- made him hate himself as much as she did. If that were even possible. Her voice held no attitude. She issued no challenge; it was simply a question.

"Home, sweet home," he told her, keeping his tone light. "Or it was, at any rate."

"Oh, right. In your reality."

So. She remembered sarcasm after all. He nodded. "Matter of fact." He set down the bag of supplies and pointed at the hole leading up to the crypt. "Need to get up there. I'll go first, make sure it's safe. Then I can pull you both up."

"I can do it myself," said Buffy.

He eyed her frail-looking frame skeptically, but thought it best not to argue. "'Course you can. Just let me check it out first, all right?"

Crossing her arms, she looked away and shrugged.

"Stay close to Tara. Anything happens while I'm up there, she can protect you." Buffy let out a bitter laugh. Spike ignored it and looked at Tara. "Best start on that counter spell. Willow might already be working her mojo."

Tara nodded and went to rummage through the bag.

With that, Spike jumped up, grabbed the side of the opening, and pulled himself into the crypt. Halfway up, two pairs of hands pulled him the rest of the way. They dragged him backwards and slammed him into the wall, pinning him there.

"Hey! What th--" Spike's head snapped back and he tasted his own blood. He glared at Giles, Lauren and Gunn, unsure which of them had thrown the punch.

"You turned off your communicator," said Gunn.

"I did n--"

Gunn hit him. "Don't lie to us! You were talking to Adam, and you turned it off. You led them to us, right? How long till they get here?"

"That's not what --"

Gunn hit him again. "How long?!"

That did it. Spike felt his features change as he threw all three of them off. "Now listen here," he snarled, slipping into combat stance. "I don't have a chip in this world, right? Next one of you touches me, I'm gonna take full advantage of that fact."

"Go ahead." Lauren aimed a kick at his head. He ducked, but she switched feet and spun around for another one. Spike grabbed her leg and used her momentum to swing her into a wall. It stunned her enough for him to close in. He hauled her up and pinned her there, a hand at her throat.

"Didn't Giles ever tell you what happened to most of the Slayers I've fought?" Fear flashed across her face. Guess he did.

"That's enough," said Giles, and Spike felt something pointy poking him in the back. He let go of Lauren and turned around. Giles and Gunn stood side by side, both aiming crossbows at his heart. "Spike, you were warned that if you lost contact, we would assume the worst."

Spike dug the melted device out of his pocket and held it up. "There's your bloody communicator!" He threw it at Giles and it bounced off his chest. "You might tell Warren for future reference that they don't stand up to getting fucking tasered."

Lauren crossed her arms and moved to stand next to Giles. "Where's my sword?"

Spike yanked up his shirt to expose his wound. "Right about there, last time I saw it. Sorry, didn't think to wrestle it out of Adam's grip before I left. Bit busy running for my life!"

Giles's face fell. "You didn't get her, then."

Spike sighed, and melted back into human face. As tired as he was of having the shit beat out of him, he had to sympathize with the bloke. He looked past Giles to the opening in the floor where Buffy, obviously incapable of obeying a simple request in any universe, was trying to pull herself into the crypt. Spike jerked his chin toward her. "I got her."

Giles followed his gaze. When he saw her, his arm went limp, and the weapon slipped from his grasp. "Oh, dear Lord."

Spike shoved Gunn out of his way and went to help her up. For once, she let him. "Told you he didn't trust me," he said as he set her on her feet. But she wasn't paying attention to him. Her eyes locked on Giles. An expression of disbelief warred on her face with reluctant hope.

Giles's features fought the same battle, but guilt, sorrow and joy had joined the fray. He took a tentative step forward. "Buffy ..."

She didn't move. She didn't seem to know what to do.

He took another step. "I-if I had known ... I saw Adam break your neck."

Her gaze faltered as she raised a hand to massage her neck. "He fixed it."

Giles put a trembling hand over his mouth. Then he lowered it and shook his head. "I didn't ... but I should have. I should have known. Oh, my dear ..." He went to her, reaching out a hand to stroke her hair. "My dear girl. I am so, so sorry."

Buffy's lip trembled as she nodded, swiping the back of her hand across her eyes. Then the dam burst. She flung herself into Giles's open arms, and all of the horrors visited upon her flooded out in a tidal wave of tears. They both sunk to the ground, Giles rocking her as she cried. "Forgive me, Buffy," he murmured. "Please forgive me. I swear I didn't know. Oh, my darling ..." His voice broke. He took off his glasses and hid his face against her hair.

Spike turned away to give them some privacy and saw Tara peering up at him from the cave below. Bugger, he'd forgotten about her. "Hang on," he told her, glancing up at Gunn and Lauren. They both stood about gaping at Buffy and Giles. No sense of decorum, either of them. "A little help over here?"

As they came over, Spike dropped into the cavern beside Tara. "Should've said something, Pet."

She shrugged and gave him an uncertain smile. "It sounded kind of intense up there. I didn't want to interrupt."

Spike returned her smile. "Here's a tip. If you don't interrupt this crowd just 'cause they sound intense, you'll never get a bleeding word in."

"Thanks. I'll remember that."

Spike nodded. "Up you go, then." He put his hands around her waist and lifted her up to Gunn. Once she was inside the crypt, Spike pitched the supplies to Lauren, then pulled himself back up. He straightened, dusted himself off, and pointed at each of them in turn. "Tara. Gunn. Lauren," he said by way of introduction. He glanced over at the pair still huddled on the floor. "That's Giles over there with Buffy."

Tara eyed the two of them for a moment, then looked away. Always polite, this one. "Is, um, is he her dad?"

"Something like that."

The four of them stood around for a moment, not sure what to do next. When the awkwardness became too much to bear, Gunn took the supplies from Lauren. "Let's see what's what," he said, carrying them over to one of the tombs.

"You got the summoning spell?"

"G has it. Part of it, anyway." Gunn turned to Tara as he spread out the supplies. "I think he's hoping you can help fill in the gaps. You do magic, right?"

Tara nodded. "It ... it's been a while ..."

Gunn grinned. "I guess there wasn't a whole lot of call for conjuring or whatever on the inside, huh?"

Tara brushed her hair out of her eyes and shook her head.

"If you're such a powerful witch," asked Lauren, eyeing her up and down, "how come you couldn't just magic yourself out of there?"

"Oi! Back off, will you?" Spike stepped in front of Tara.

"It's a valid question," said Gunn.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ, you people give whole new meaning to the word 'paranoid.'"

Gunn drew himself up to his full height and loomed over Spike. "We didn't get this far by trusting in the wrong people, vampire."

"It's okay," Tara said, putting a hand on Spike's arm. "They can ask me questions, I don't m-mind."

Lauren raised her eyebrows. "So?"

"We couldn't. Do magic, I mean. I mean, we could, he didn't put chips in our heads or anything. He ..." She paused to lick her lips. "Adam, he brought in another witch ... a vampire. She put a w... a ward on each of our cells, to prevent us from doing magic."

"Willow, I'd wager." Spike nodded. "Makes sense. What fun would it be to take away your powers? You'd be useless then, he might as well just kill you."

Tara nodded. "Anyway, I'm not really that powerful."

Gunn and Lauren seemed satisfied. They started going through the supplies, asking Tara more questions, keeping busy while they waited. Spike stole away for a cigarette. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Buffy and Giles pull apart at last. Spike settled on the ledge underneath the window, leaned back against the side of the alcove, and closed his eyes. He tried not to eavesdrop, but the crypt wasn't that big, and sound carried. He didn't need vampire senses to hear what they were saying. Finally, he gave up trying to be polite, and watched them through half-lidded eyes.

Buffy ran a hand over the snotty mess she'd made of Giles's shirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he said, taking her hand in his.

With her free hand, she wiped her eyes. "God, I must look totally disgusting right now."

"Nonsense." He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. "You've never looked more lovely."

Buffy smiled a little, the first true smile Spike had seen from her. "Liar."

"Not at all. But you know what they say about beauty," Giles said, wiping his own eyes and putting his glasses back on. "Eye of the beholder and all that. And you truly look beautiful to this beholder."

Buffy's smile widened and she ducked her head. Then she looked over at Gunn, Lauren and Tara. "So this is your big Resistance movement?"

"Part of it, yes. There are more, of course. The others are resettling our camp."

"My mom, she's with them?" Giles's face fell, and the hope on Buffy's face went down a notch. "I mean, she got out, right? Before everything --"

"She did," Giles assured her. "Your mother accompanied me to Los Angeles, after you ... I mean, after ... Anyway. I kept her quite safe."

Buffy nodded. "You're going to say 'but.'"

Giles sighed. "But ... she became ill. She had a, ah ... a tumor." Buffy tensed at the word. "By then, Adam's forces had already moved in on L.A. We were unable to get her the proper treatment." Buffy retreated back into herself, drawing her knees up to her chin and hugging them to her. Giles laid a hand on her back. "She went peacefully, Buffy. Please let that be some consolation." She buried her face against her knees and began to rock a little. Giles looked frightened. "Buffy, I ... I wish that ..." He looked around and saw Spike, who had given up all pretense not watching them. "Perhaps when everything is restored ..."

Spike shook his head.

Giles's shoulders fell. "I see."

Mirthless laughter came from Buffy. She raised her head. "What, in Spike's world? Giles, you don't actually believe him."

Giles looked at Spike as he considered. "So far he's given me no reason not to."

Buffy stood up. "No reason? Giles, he's Spike. That's all the reason you need."

Spike stood up as well. If she decided to tell Giles everything, he should be ready to defend himself.

Giles remained seated on the floor, looking back and forth between them. "Normally, I would agree," he said, his eyes finally resting on Buffy. "But this Spike has a soul. That much has been verified."

"Oh, a soul. Of course. That makes all the difference." Buffy shot a glare at Spike. "I guess those human scientists that Adam brought in to help him cut me up and ..." She swallowed. "And other stuff ... they must've checked their souls at the door."

"She's got a point," said Lauren.

Buffy looked at her, her face a question mark.

Giles got to his feet. "Buffy, this is Lauren. She's the, er ..."

"I'm the Slayer," Lauren supplied.

Buffy took it like another blow. "Then Nelke ..."

Giles removed his glasses and ran a hand over his face. "The same battle in which you ..." He sighed. "She got me to the exit, but before she could follow, Willow got in a parting shot."

Buffy shook her head and folded her arms. "First Faith, then Nelke." She looked at Spike. "Guess you two are tied."

Spike threw his spent cigarette on the ground and shoved his hands in his pockets as he met her gaze. "Guess so."

She moved to stand before him. "So is that what this is all about? Breaking the tie?"

"No!"

"No?" She indicated Lauren. "You've got two Slayers right here, Spike. Her defenses are down, and I can't fight you. You worm your way into their trust, wait until we're all vulnerable, then, hey! You're back on top!" Her voice rose, and so did her fists, but she didn't try to hit him. "Is that it? Did you finally come up with a plan you could stick to?"

"No, that is bloody not it!" Spike grabbed her by the shoulders. She gasped, but he didn't let go. The others went for their weapons.

Tara ran over to them. "Stop it!" Spike let go of Buffy and backed away. Tara stood between him and the others, a human shield. "If he wanted to kill you, he had plenty of chances." Funny how her stutter disappeared whenever she got angry.

Buffy shook her head. "But h--"

"No! What he went through for us ... You were unconscious. You didn't see. But he almost died for us, Buffy. Adam almost had him, and all he wanted was to keep us safe. God, if you had seen the way he protected you ..."

Spike put a hand on Tara's shoulder. She looked back at him, and he shook his head. That information probably wouldn't help things with Buffy at this point.

"You don't know him like I do," said Buffy.

Tara turned back to her. "If he's telling the truth, if this is a different Spike ... then you don't know him at all."

"If he's telling the truth," said Gunn. He lowered his crossbow and looked at Spike. "Look, man, you came through today, but ..." He shook his head.

Giles chewed on the ear of his glasses. "It is rather a lot to take on faith," he conceded.

"And I can't," said Buffy. Hugging herself, she sat down underneath the window. "I can't take anything he says on faith."

Back to bloody square one then, was it? Brilliant. "Fine!" Spike threw up his hands. He couldn't do this again. "Don't believe me. You know what? I don't need your help. I'm immortal, yeh? Well, so's Halfrek. That means I've got all the ruddy time in the world to fix this. I'll figure it out on my own. So have fun with your little rebellion. I'll just be on my merry way." He turned on his heel and started for the door, but they'd taken his advice and propped a sarcophagus lid against it. Undaunted, he shoved it out of his way.

"So that's it?" asked Gunn. "You're just gonna turn your back on us?"

Spike whirled around. "Don't you get it? This --" he gestured around at the crypt -- "it's not real. None of it matters. Once I fix things, none of this will have ever happened."

"That may be," said Giles, "but it's quite real for the rest of us. And it was real enough for you when Buffy was Adam's prisoner."

Spike gritted his teeth and raised his eyes to the ceiling. Then he pointed at Buffy. "She doesn't want my help!" He dropped his hand. "And I won't make her help me. God, if I ..." He ran a hand through his hair and paced, then stopped before Buffy and dropped to his knees. "If there was a way, Pet ... if I could prove it to you ..." He shook his head, and gazed helplessly up at her. Her face remained expressionless. "What must I do, Buffy? What will it take to get you to trust me, even just a smidgen? Name it, and I'll do it. Anything you want."

For a long while they just looked at each other, Buffy impassive, Spike imploring. Finally, she closed her eyes and turned her head away. Spike dropped his head to his hands.

"Um ..." Tara's voice broke the silence. "I know this spell ..."

Spike raised his head, and everyone turned to look at her.

Giles put his glasses back on. "We already considered a truth spell. We decided it wouldn't be reliable enough."

"I-it's not a truth spell," said Tara. "It's more like an, an empathy spell? This old wizard taught me, before they separated us and put the wards around our cells. It ... it bonds two people, connects them so that they share each other's memories. Each relives them through the other's eyes. It's ... pretty intense."

"And if Spike is telling the truth," said Giles, "then the person bonded to him should experience his world firsthand." Tara nodded. Giles looked at Spike. "I'm game if you are."

Spike looked at Buffy, but she still refused to meet his eyes. He nodded, and got to his feet. "Right. What do we need to do?"

"I'll need to draw a circle," said Tara, going back to the supplies.

"No." Buffy stood up.

Giles and Spike looked at each other, then at her. "Buffy," said Giles, "this could be just the proof we require."

"I know. I'll do it."

Giles shook his head. "You're in no condition --"

"I have to see for myself, Giles. Besides, you're talking about bonding with Spike."

"All the more reason why it shouldn't be you."

Buffy shrugged. "Why not? I've already seen the worst he can do. Hell, I've lived it."

Giles turned a cold, lethal stare on Spike.

Spike just nodded. "'Sides, it goes both ways, right Pet?" He smiled ruefully. "Can't think of a more fitting punishment."

Buffy looked at him. "You'll go through with it, then?"

"I will. You sure you're up for it, though? Might see some things that are pretty tough to take."

She snorted. "Believe me, Spike. Nothing you've done will surprise me."

He tilted his head and held her gaze for a moment. "We'll see, Love."

The endearment made Buffy bristle, but she took no action.

Tara motioned them to the front of the crypt. With a piece of charcoal, she drew a wide circle. "This is just to help anchor you," she explained. Then she placed a pillar candle in the center and lit it. "You both need to sit and face the candle." Buffy and Spike took their places inside the circle. "Y-you have to hold hands."

Spike held out his hands and waited. He felt revulsion flowing off of Buffy as she recoiled. At last, she swallowed and placed her hands in his.

"Close your eyes," Tara instructed. "Think of a point in time. Don't go back too far, it can be overwhelming if you try to do too much at once. Just think back a year or so."

Spike tried to think of a good time for them both. He thought over that first year, after he realized he was in love with her. Hadn't exactly been a good year for either of them. He was still trying to pinpoint a memory when Tara began to chant.

And then his memories were no longer his own.

It began with flashes. Like a camera bulb, searing images onto the backs of his eyelids. But the images came with feelings, scents, sounds ... as if he was there. He was there. What's more, he was her. He saw through her eyes, felt her emotions. Anger, determination, shock, fear, grief, hatred ... all hitting him in rapid succession along with images of Riley, Angel, Adam. Himself. Then the memories slowed, played out longer. He began to put them in context.

He was in a locked room he didn't recognize, but he wasn't alone. Angel was there, crouched in a corner, half mad from starvation. Cordelia spoke to him in soothing tones, trying to talk him down. Adam watched from behind glass to see which of them Angel would turn on first. Buffy prayed for it to be her.

Flash forward to Cordelia, lying on the floor, her body wracked with spasms as her eyes rolled back in her head. Buffy tried to go to her, to help her, but they dragged her away. When she tried to fight them the chip fired, almost causing her seizures of her own.

Flash forward to her cell. Riley entered -- no. Not Riley. Not any more. She had to remember that. "Thought you'd like to see your old lover again," he told her, throwing a handful of dust in her face. "Get up. You have visitors."

But she couldn't. She could only stare at the dust coating her clothes, too numb to grieve like she wanted, like she knew she should.

"I said get up!" Riley grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her feet. She refused to cry out. Riley stepped aside, and Adam entered.

"Your bonus," he said, ushering someone inside.

Buffy felt mild surprise and disgust as Spike appeared from behind Adam. Spike stared at her, his eyes wide with wonder. "She's really alive," he breathed. He took a step toward her, and she stepped back, afraid. He broke into a slow grin. "This is gonna be fun."

Spike stared helplessly at himself and shuddered.

***

It took Buffy a moment to understand what was happening. She watched in wonder as images of her friends passed before her: Xander, Willow, Riley, all of them alive and well. But other feelings accompanied the flashes. Irritation, frustration, jealousy, warmth, rejection, fondness, anger, all forming a confused jumble of emotion.

Now she hung from chains in a strange apartment. A woman, small yet unbelievably powerful, taunted and tortured her. Through the pain, she clung to a single thought: If you tell, it will destroy Buffy. Hold on for Buffy's sake.

Flash forward to a metal plank high above Sunnydale. A young girl stood at the end, bound at the wrists. Dawn. Buffy didn't know how, but she knew the girl. Loved her. "Spike!" the girl called out, her voice full of relief and hope instead of fear. Suddenly Buffy understood. She was Spike, and Spike had to protect Dawn. An old man stood in his way. Spike tried to take him on, but the old man was too fast. It was over as quickly as it had begun. He'd failed. Oh God, he'd failed her. He'd failed them both. He didn't know how long he lay there. Gradually he became aware of pain shooting through his body, but it was nothing compared to the knowledge of what his failure would cost him. The sun was coming. As much as he wanted to let it take him, instinct forced him up. The others were there, gathering around. He limped toward them, to see what they were looking at, and he saw. The culmination of his failure. His love, his life ... broken and bleeding atop a pile of rubble. He tried to sense a heartbeat, but there was none. She was gone. Grief hit him like a physical blow, and he buried his face in his hands.

Flash forward to Buffy's house. Spike parked a motorcycle in front and flew up the front walk, fear gripping his heart like a vise. He'd failed again. He'd made a simple promise -- his only reason for going on. Now he'd fucked it up, and lost her. "Dawn!" he called as he went through the door. He nearly collapsed with relief when she appeared atop the stairs, but then anger bolstered him. God, he was furious. If not for the chip he'd pound some sense into the girl. Have to settle for shouting at her instead.

"Spike, look," she cut him off, trying to distract him.

"I've seen the bloody 'bot before. Didn't think she'd patch up so --" Oh. Oh, God.

It couldn't be ... but it was. Her scent, the rhythm of her heart beating strong inside her chest, a sound he thought he'd only hear again in his dreams ... but how? He couldn't take his eyes off her. Who gave a bleeding fuck how? She was back, and she needed him. He would protect her this time, take care of her like he'd taken care of her sister. Christ, she was so beautiful, so alive ....

Buffy stared up at herself and smiled.

***

They lasted longer now, grew more detailed, more vivid. Spike lost his sense of self. There was only Buffy -- her thoughts, her feelings. Her revulsion and despair.

She sat on the cot in the middle of her cell while he prowled around her, stopping now and then to run a hand through her hair. Every time he touched her, she suppressed a shudder. She only half-listened to him rant about why Drusilla had left him as she envisioned the many ways she could shut him up if it weren't for the chip.

"But she was right, you know." He sat beside her. Buffy refused to react. "I didn't figure that out until I learned you were still alive. Ever since that first time Adam showed you to me ... I haven't been able to think about anything else." He twirled her hair around his finger. "Anyone else."

She swatted his hand away. A warning twinge fired in her brain, giving her the beginnings of a headache. She glared at him. "So Drusilla dumped you because she thought you loved me. That's why you sold me out to Adam? Used my boyfriend as bait? Because you love me so much?"

"Now, now, Slayer. First of all, that was business. Nothing personal."

"Right. I'll remember that the next time my dead boyfriend straps me down and tortures me."

"Second of all," he continued as if she hadn't spoken, "don't flatter yourself. Love you? Please." He got up to pace some more. "Do I think you're a hot little number? Sure I do. I may be dead, but I have eyes. And I'm no poofter." He moved behind her, bent to press his lips against her ear as he spoke. "Do I dream about shagging you so rough and raw that you're still screaming my name after I've left the room?" He straightened and leaned against her. She could feel the beginning of an erection pressing into her back and almost choked on her disgust. "Oh, yeh. Not a night goes by that I don't." He paced back around in front of her. "Do I admire you?" He shrugged. "God knows you're a worthy opponent. Or at least, you were. But love?" He laughed. "How could I ever love you, you stupid bint?"

"Well, seeing as how that would mean you understand what love is, I'd say that you couldn't."

He smirked at her for a moment. Then he slapped her. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he hauled her to her feet. "Who the bloody hell are you to lecture me about love? A hundred and twenty years I was faithful to Dru! You're gonna stand there and tell me I don't know what love is?"

Buffy shoved him, and the chip went off. The pain nauseated her. Or maybe that was Spike. He was on her again, shaking her. "I'm obsessed with you, is what she said. Ever since our truce ..." He stopped the shaking and held her steady. His gaze drifted down to her mouth. "She's right. It's like you follow me around, haunting me ..." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I've got to get you out of my system."

"No."

"Shh." He stroked her hair. "I won't hurt you, Slayer. It'll be good, yeh? Just this once, and we can forget it."

"Spike, get off me!"

But he wasn't listening. He closed in to kiss her. Buffy balled up her fist, braced for the pain, and hit him, knocking him across the room. The pain blinded her. She clutched her head and dropped to her knees, but a pair of hands caught her before she fell, and slammed her into the wall.

***

She slammed him into the wall, and in that instant, he got it. The games she played, the denial ... "You're afraid I'm gonna --" But her mouth closed over his. She wouldn't give him a chance to speak it. Didn't matter now, though. She was kissing him, more passionately than any of the other times. He couldn't even remember what he'd been about to say. Kissing Buffy. That was all that mattered. That was all there was.

He turned her around so he could deepen the kiss, but she shoved him away. Then she was on him again, shoving him backwards into another wall. He barely registered the beam that fell where they'd been standing only a second before as she kissed him again. He almost didn't notice when her legs wrapped around his waist. And then the most extraordinary thing happened: she pulled him out, and slid herself onto him.

He stopped kissing her then. He had to see her. It ... it had to be a mistake. But she held his gaze, her eyes filled with desire and determination. He could only stare back at her with undisguised awe and, he guessed, not a little bit of gratitude. And then she began to move. Oh, God. The times he'd dreamed of this, tried to imagine how it would feel to be inside her ... none of it had prepared him for the reality of it. That, coupled with the look in her eyes ... it overwhelmed him. He had to close his eyes. And then she was kissing him again. Oh, bloody... Christ, this was amazing. Were they making love? Would she ever allow him to call it that?

He turned, leaned her against the wall for better purchase. Bloody hell, it was happening too fast. But it was happening for her, too. He thought he heard crashing somewhere in the distance, but he couldn't be sure. He heard her cry out, and he let go. His knees gave out. He stumbled backwards, taking her with him. They fell ... he thought they'd never stop falling. But then they did, and he was still inside her. She was looking into his eyes again. He ... God, he loved her so much. He had to say so, had to tell her. He opened his mouth. "I love y--" But she kissed him again. She wouldn't let him say it. Fine, then. He would show her. With his body, he would worship her. By morning, she would know. She wouldn't be able to deny it any longer.

***

He backhanded her. She fell to the floor, and scooted back against the wall as she held her burning cheek.

"Oh, bloody hell. Get up, Slayer." When she didn't move, he picked her up and shoved her back into the center of the room. "You don't want to go to ruin, do you? Fight me!"

She gritted her teeth. She would not cry. "I can't."

He rolled his eyes, and threw a punch. She dodged it. He grinned. "There you go, Love!" He swung at her again.

Buffy blocked his punch. "I told you, don't call me Love!" She swung, and connected. She screamed as the chip fired, but as she picked herself up off the floor, she thought it had been worth it. At least, until his boot connected with the side of her head.

"Get up," he said. She didn't move. "I said, get up!" He grabbed her hair and pulled her to her knees. She pushed him away and forced herself to her feet. She heard him laugh. "That's my girl."

***

"That's my girl." He urged her on, ignoring the pain. Whatever she inflicted on him, it was nothing compared to the way she was beating herself up. He could take it. He wasn't so sure that she could.

"I am not your girl!" She hit him again, knocked him on his ass. That did the trick. She jumped on him and started pounding his face. Hurt like hell. Jesus, she was strong. She was beginning to tire, though. He could've stopped her, but she had to keep going. Let her take it all out on him. Better than going into that police station and throwing her whole life away over something she had no power to stop. Beating him to a bloody pulp, that he could take. But he couldn't take losing her. Not again. Not like this.

She shouted at him as she hit him. "You don't ... have a soul! There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside! You can't feel anything real! I could never ... be your girl!"

That last one hurt. More than his face -- that was completely numb by now. Must be bad, by the look on her face. It was all right, though. Say something to let her know it's all right. Bloody hell, his lips were swollen. Make them work anyway, before you lose her.

"You always hurt the one you love, Pet."

That only made it worse. She got off of him and stood up.

"Buffy?"

She paid him no need. Just walked past him, toward the station. He reached for her, but he couldn't move. She'd done a hell of a number on him. All for nothing. She went inside. He'd failed again. He just wanted to keep her safe. Why did he always fuck it up?

***

She couldn't fuck it up. She'd only get one chance. If they caught her, or found her too soon, they'd fix her. They'd make sure she could never do it again. And it would never end.

She stared at her wrist, at the blue vein. God, what she wouldn't give for a knife or a razor. Anything sharp. This was going to hurt. But there were worse ways to hurt, she knew that. This one last little bit of pain, and she'd never have to feel those other ways again.

Steeling herself, she closed her eyes, and bit down hard on her wrist. She whimpered as she clamped her jaw tight, and gagged when blood flowed into her mouth. She spat it onto the floor, then sat back and watched it run out of her wrist. She'd expected it to spurt more. Maybe she didn't do it right.

The door opened. "What have you done, Slayer?" Riley. But not Riley. She could never quite remember that.

"Buggering hell," said another. Spike. Only the one Spike.

"Let's get her to the infirmary," Not-Riley said.

"What, and give up my bonus? I don't bloody think so." Spike shook off his coat, then peeled off his shirt. "I got her. She hasn't lost that much, I can patch her up."

"You'd better. Adam won't be happy if you let his prize rat die."

"She won't die," Spike said, shredding his tee-shirt and wrapping it around her wrist. "Will you, Pet?"

Not-Riley left them, and shut the door.

"There now," said Spike. "You didn't really think I'd let you die by any hand other than mine, did you?" He stood, pulling her to her feet. He licked her blood off of his fingers and smiled. "Still, if you're so eager to spill your own blood ..."

He turned her around and shoved her face first into the wall. She was dimly aware of the sound of his belt being undone, and of his hands pushing her pants down. She'd lost enough blood to feel dizzy, which made it easier to pretend she'd left her own body. When he shoved himself inside her, and then shoved his teeth into her neck, she wasn't there, so it was okay. He couldn't touch her. As he drank her blood, he also drank her consciousness. She felt herself drifting away. Everything faded mercifully to black.

***

Plaster cracked against his back as he crashed into the wall. Surprised, he shook off the dizziness and stared at Buffy.

"Ask me again why I could never love you!"

She clutched her robe tight. Bruises were already forming on the bits of skin he could still see. But he ... No. He hadn't ... "Buffy, my God. I didn't --"

"Because I stopped you!" Tears streamed down her face. "Something I should have done a long time ago."

Spike couldn't stop staring. This ... this didn't happen. He didn't just try ... but he did. Oh, God. How could he ... He loved her, more than anything, and he ... he tried to rape her. He swore he'd never hurt her, and he tried to rape her. He had to get out of there. Had to get away from her.

He ran.

What the fuck was that? And why the bloody hell did he feel like this? He was a vampire, goddamn it! He wasn't supposed to feel guilty! He was supposed to hurt her. He was supposed to kill the bitch! Causing her pain wasn't supposed to cut him up like this. He had to do something. Had to make it stop. Had to make sure it wouldn't happen again.

He left.

The demon said he had to pass a test. Fine. He could do that. He could take whatever the bastard threw at him. He did, too. Hurt like hell, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. His prize, though ... that was something else entirely. He'd never known pain like that. Everything he'd done, everything he'd been, all the hurt he'd caused ... it all came back on him tenfold. And he knew. The soul hadn't made him what he was. It didn't turn him into something Buffy deserved. He would never deserve her. He was a monster, and always would be. She could never love a thing like him. Nothing could ever make him worthy of her.

Nowhere to run.

Spike collapsed on the cave floor and sobbed. Never had he felt so utterly alone.

Buffy jumped as a sob outside her echoed the one in her head. She opened her eyes and took in the crypt. Spike had broken out of the circle. He was crawling away from her on his hands and knees, but he stopped as his stomach heaved. Buffy watched, frozen, while he dry-retched between sobs as full of despair and self-loathing as the ones he'd cried in the cave. Tara knelt beside him, trying to hold him up. The others surrounded them, nobody knowing what to do. Again, Spike gagged, and then he rested his forehead on the cold concrete. His whole body shook.

Buffy felt torn. Part of her wanted to go to him, to try and comfort him. She started to reach out; but then she remembered what he must've seen that had torn him up so, and she recoiled. She thought of the things she'd just witnessed -- the things he'd done for her, the things she'd done to him -- and she couldn't deal with it. She had to get out of there.

She scrambled to her feet and ran for the door. Ignoring Giles's cries of protest, Buffy escaped into the night.

Continue

A/N & acknowledgements: This was a tough chapter to write, folks, so I'm sure it'll be a tough chapter to read. You might want to have a nice, happy, fluffy fic lined up to read after you're done with this one.

Special thanks to DevilPiglet/Serpentine for diving into the beta pool. I needed all the encouragement I could get on this one. I hope she feels she got her money's worth. ;-) Big thanks also to fenwic and adjrun for taking time out to beta despite a week of conning, relative visiting, vacationing and just generally dragging their respective tails all over the west coast. And to Abby for carving out time in the midst of moving. It seems everybody had stuff going on, and I really appreciate that they stuck with me.

Thanks also to adj the Shakespeare nut for the title on this one. If you're wondering, it's from Hamlet. Don't ask me which scene.

Only two more chapters to go. I can't promise how quick they'll be in coming, but they will get posted before the season premiere airs.