Here Is GoneBy Terri
Chapter 1
Spike knew he'd been in the cave for a long time. He had flashes of memory, during his lucid times, bits of recollection and consciousness, but he was coming around now. Waking from the nightmare that never seemed to end. He was weak, and starved, and battered.'Wounds aren't healing too well,' he thought to himself.
Good. The pain meant he was suffering and he deserved to suffer for all he had done, for all the pain he had caused, all the grief… he was evil, a parasite on the Earth. But he had chosen this, fought for it. The soul was to be his reward.
'If so, then why does it hurt so damn much?'
He had known, of course. Known from Angelus' ordeal, what a soul could do to a vampire, but he had hoped, since he had sought the soul willingly, that the Powers would go easy on him. Besides, Angelus had been infinitely more evil and depraved than Spike could ever hope to be. It had been one of fledgling Spike's many failings.
It would seem that he had been wrong, and the Powers hadn't decided to make it easy for him. If anything, they delighted in torturing him with his own memories. He remembered screaming, a never-ending wail that erupted from his throat in an endless howl of grief. He saw the faces of his victims, the crimes he had committed, the atrocities done at his hand.
Pain suffused through his entire being and he opened his mouth to scream again, but only a raw croak came out. He was too weak, too starved. Even drawing breath took supreme effort. There was something very seriously wrong.
'What is happening to me?' he thought to himself.
"You are dying," came the booming voice of the demon who had done this to him.
He was too weak to move, to weak to even lift his head. He barely had the strength to open his eyes and blink owlishly into the darkness.
"Soon you will be nothing but a desiccated corpse. A fitting end to such a pathetic creature."
'But I won. I passed your trials.'
"To pass you have to survive."
'I'm still here. Not giving up.'
A low chuckle rumbled through the cavern. "Feisty one, you are, but there is nothing I can do to help you now. You have been here for months and your wounds are not healing. Accept the inevitable, vampire."
He closed his eyes; he felt the tears building behind the lids but he held them back with all the strength he could muster.
'Send me back then. If I am to die, I want to die at home.'
Another laugh. "You think your demon friend can help you? The one who sent you to me? Or your mortal love? She cares nothing for you. You will not be missed."
'Don’t care. If she stakes me, at least it will be quicker than this.'
"Do you think so?"
'Besides, I need to tell her, before I go, that I'm sorry. Sorry for everything.'
"Do you now?"
'Gotta do it. Gotta make amends. I wish I could go back. Back before all this happened. Do it different.'
"Really?"
The demon's voice had changed. It was still deep and mocking, but now there was an expectant tone to it.
'If I could do it over again. Fix it. Make it better. That'd be good.'
He let out a sigh and it cost him dearly. One of his fingers twitched.
"So, Lurky," he croaked, blood flecking on his lips from his raw throat. "You gonna send me back to SunnyHell, or what?"
Silence.
"Well?" he tried again, his voice barely a whisper. "Get on with it. Haven't got all day."
More silence and he had begun to think that the demon was going to let him just die in the cave, when it spoke again, its voice both mocking and admiring at the same time.
"You are amusing, vampire. And worthy. Granted."
Chapter 2
"What do you--"He didn’t have time to finish his question before there was a flash and a momentary sense of disorientation. Light flooded behind his eyes and he was filled with sudden strength and power. When he returned to his senses he was sitting on top of the sarcophagus in his old crypt, and somewhere, someone was banging loudly. He barely had enough time to register his whereabouts when the door to his crypt burst open and Buffy came storming in. At first he was frozen, certain that she had come to stake him just moments after his soulful return to Sunndydale, but second glance revealed a Buffy he hadn’t seen since before the mess with Glory, since before she died…
"I've got a proposition for you," she announced tersely.
"Buffy?" he said, taking in the long hair, flashing eyes, tight lips.
Stunned, he looked at his hands, whole, unmarred by burns and wounds. He felt his chest and face, examining his body until Buffy punched him.
"Ow!" he exclaimed, grabbing his bleeding nose. "What did you do that for, you bloody bitch?"
Voice steady, full strength, not rasped and raw from countless screams. Its volume surprised him.
"To get your attention, blood breath. You were spacing out on me," came the angry reply.
Spike blinked, still disoriented and confused, then wiped his nose as he looked at her. "Yeah? Well, you got it."
She pulled out a wad of bills and showed them to him. "Riley's sick. It’s some Initiative thing."
He stared at the money, then swiveled his head around to take in the rest of his crypt. Her words triggered his memory; a memory of another time when she had come storming into his crypt, money in hand, asking for help finding Riley.
'But that was almost two years ago…’
"Hey, Earth to Spike! What the hell is wrong with you? Did you drink expired blood or something?" Buffy demanded.
"Riley… ticker's not workin' right," he whispered, eyes meeting hers.
"How did you know that?" she snapped, her eyes widening.
"The Initiative. They used their soldier boys for lab rats. Read about it when I was working with that Adam bloke. You think he might be hiding in the caves."
Buffy gave him a wary look, and he continued, "You want me to look for him."
"That was the plan. We've got a doctor who can help him waiting on the fourth floor of the hospital."
Spike shook his head, still not understanding what was happening, but beginning to piece it all together.
"Even if I do find him, I won’t be able to bring him in. The Chip won’t let me and I can’t defend myself against him," he offered.
"Just find him. I can do the rest," she replied, lowering her eyes at the mention of his chip.
"I find him, leave to tattle on his whereabouts, and he's moved by the time we get back. No go, Slayer, you come with. We'll find him together. Then you can bring him down and I won't get a migraine."
She pursed her lips, then stuffed the bills back into her coat pocket. "Deal. You'll get paid when we find Riley."
He nodded, ignoring her surprised look. "Fair enough, but I need a bit of time. Meet me at the caves in twenty minutes."
"We have to leave now."
"And I don’t track on an empty stomach," he retorted.
She blanched. "Fine, but meet me in ten minutes. It doesn't take you that long to drink a couple of bags of blood."
"Fifteen and not a minute sooner," he bargained, then motioned for her to leave.
She moved to go, then turned around sharply. "Spike, if…"
"If I'm not there, you'll stake me. Yeah yeah. Get goin,' time's a wastin' and I got my dinner to eat. Run along, Slayer, I'll be there in a jif."
It seemed that she might argue, then thought the better of it and stomped out of the crypt. After the door closed behind her, he let out a sigh of relief and looked around. It was definitely his crypt, but before he had redecorated.
'Bastard went an’ did it…'
To confirm his theory, he hopped off the sarcophagus and lifted the lid. Harmony popped out as he expected.
"So? What'd she say about me?"
He really wasn't surprised to see her, even as she lifted herself out of the tomb. While he may have been many things in his un-life, stupid wasn't one of them. It may have taken him a minute or two, but he'd already figured out that the demon had somehow transported him back in time; back into his own body, almost two years in the past. Still, seeing Harmony again caused his soul to twinge.
'Well, that answers that question. Still have the soul. I'd better, after what I went through to get it. There would've been Hell to pay if he'd sent me back without it. Wanker probably saved my life, or unlife for that matter, as well.'
"Nothin' luv. Wasn't you she was after."
Harmony's eyes grew wide and frightened. "Oh! She's not after you, is she? What if something happened to you? Who'll hide me if she stakes you!"
He swallowed his irritation, remembering all too well how she could annoy him, but he had other, more pressing matters to attend to. He put his hand on her arm to calm her.
"Nothin' to worry about, luv. I just gotta go out for a bit. You stay here and be safe, okay?"
"Okay," she tearfully agreed. "Just, be careful."
Her look softened him somewhat. He'd been so cruel to her, so angry with her. He'd used her as Buffy would later use him. She hadn't deserved it.
"I will. Now be a good girl and stay here. Hide if anyone comes by."
She gave him a nod, her eyes watery. "I love you, Blondie Bear."
He managed a smile, then slipped out, mind racing as he headed for the caves. If Soldier Boy was still around that meant all the trouble with Glory had yet to happen, and that meant he could stop it all from ever happening to begin with. It meant that he could protect Dawn and help Buffy… and save Joyce.
"Oh God," he breathed, even as he quickened his pace. Joyce was still alive, and just beginning to get sick if he remembered correctly.
'All the light went out of her eyes when her mum died…'
If he could warn them in advance, keep the blood clot from becoming a problem…
'Joyce would live, and Buffy and the Nibblet wouldn't have to bury their mum. I'd never take Nibblet to see Doc, so he'd never know about 'er bein' the Key…'Glory! Glory was coming, she'd be after Dawn! 'And I'll know her moves. And her weakness.'
He paused, getting his bearings, before setting out again.
'I have to find a way to kill Ben.'
Chapter 3
Buffy was waiting for him when he got to the caves. She was stamping her foot and looking at her watch when he joined her."I was about to go looking for you," she scowled.
He ignored the barb in deference to reacquainting himself with the layout of the caves.
"I'm here, aren't I? Let's go."
She fell in behind him, looking at him oddly when he stopped to sniff the air.
"Are you okay?" she asked suddenly.
He started and stared at her, shocked by her show of concern. "I'm fine."
"It's just… you're acting all weird and helpful and non-snarky and stuff."
He sniffed the air again, catching the scent he was looking for.
"Just concentrating, luv. This way. C'mon," he commented, heading into a narrow cavern.
"How do you know?"
"Can smell Soldier Boy's cologne. Bloody Aramis. Can't stand the damn stuff."
She fell silent for a while, but he knew she was there, following him, letting him lead. It was amazing how well they worked together when they weren’t sniping at each other. Each was acutely aware of the other’s whereabouts and actions. It was almost comfortable.
‘Maybe now is the time to start changing a few things…’
"So, how’s your mum?" he asked blithely as he sniffed the air again and turned left. The boy wasn’t far away.
"Huh?"
"Your mum, Joyce. Heard she was sickly."
He wasn’t expecting the hand that seized him from behind and slammed him into the cave wall.
"How do you know about my mother?" Buffy growled.
Spike immediately put his hands up in surrender. "Word travels fast in the demon world, especially if the Slayer is involved. I heard that she went to hospital. I just wanted to know how she was doing."
"What do you care?"
"Oi!" he snarked, brushing her hands away, just barely avoiding a chip shock. "I’ll have you know that I like your mum. She’s got balls, and she’s decent, and she’s always a lady, and she’s never treated me like a freak. Forgive me for asking if she was okay."
Buffy looked ashamed for a moment, then answered softly, "I’m sorry. I’m just… It’s hard with Mom and Riley… They don’t really know what’s wrong with her, yet."
Spike gave her an understanding nod. "So, they gonna give her a full going over? Do one of those, what do ya call ‘em? CAT things?"
Buffy looked away and he had to suppress the urge to comfort her. He was fairly certain this Buffy would not take his attentions well.
"I… I dunno."
"Well, they should. Give her a full going over, from top to bottom. Leave no stone unturned. You tell ‘em Slayer. You make sure they do one of those CAT scans, and an MRI too, and don’t take no for an answer."
She gave him an odd look, and for a moment he thought he may have blown his cover by pushing too hard. He cursed silently. He’d never been good at being subtle, or at lying. Neither had been his forte. He was a much more blunt and straightforward kind of vampire.
"I… I will. Thank you, Spike."
He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and gave her a soft smile. "You’re welcome, Slayer. Be sure to tell Joyce I was askin’ after her and that I hope she feels better soon."
He returned his attention to the task at hand. Riley was close, very close.
"I will. Thank you for helping me, Spike."
"Don’t mention it. Can’t have you worryin’ about your mum and Soldier Boy. A worried Slayer is a distracted Slayer." He led the way down another tunnel. "And distracted Slayer is a dead Slayer and a dead Slayer means…" He looked at her and gave her one if his evil grins.‘Have to make her think I’m still evil and all…’
"I don’t get paid."
He stepped aside, nodding to an opening in the tunnel wall that led to another chamber. "Soldier Boy is in there, and he doesn’t sound too happy."
Buffy blinked at him, then warily moved past him into the cavern. He stayed and waited, trying to ignore their conversation as he mentally ticked off all the things he had already changed. Before, he hadn’t helped her, but had kidnapped the doctor with Harmony’s help and tried to force him remove the chip. Then he had attacked Buffy and tried to kill her before discovering that the surgeon had lied to him.
‘I wonder what helping her instead will mean…’
He didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as Buffy led a somber-looking Riley from the chamber. The two men met eyes, and Spike saw the growing fear and insecurity that would soon lead the boy to cavorting with vampire whores looking back at him.
‘He knows. He knows even now that he is going to lose her. You poor bastard.’
He straightened, puffing up his chest as he drew his bravado around him, and put out his hand, palm up, his trademark smirk on his face. Buffy frowned at him, then shoved the money into his waiting hand.
"Why thank you, Slayer. As always, a pleasure doing business with you. If you lose your puppy again, please don’t hesitate to look me up," he smoothed, bowing slightly.
"Shut up, Spike," she snapped, guiding Riley past the smug vampire and down the tunnel.
Spike waited a moment, then followed a short distance behind.
Chapter 4
"Spikey," Harmony's voice intruded upon his thoughts. "Aren’t you coming to bed?"He put the journal down as the vampiress glided into the room, dressed in a silk nightie and sheer robe. He gave her a weary glance, mentally shaking his head.
'I have to get her out of here…'
"Not right now, luv. Not tired."
Harmony leaned over his shoulder and nibbled on his ear. "But I need you to keep me warm…"
"We can’t keep each other warm, Harm, we don't have any body heat. We're dead, remember?"
She giggled. "Doesn't mean we can't snuggle and make… other heat."
He took a deep breath and let it out on a count to three.
"Maybe later, luv."
Harmony whined and pouted. "You've done nothing but write in that damn book ever since you got back," she huffed.
"It's important, luv. I told you. I'm making plans."
"Plans to kill the Slayer?" she asked hopefully.
He gave her an evil smile. "You know me too well, pet," he lied.
She grinned and clapped her hands. "Oh! Can I be the one to kill her? Since you can't bite her without getting, y'know, zapped? I'd let you have some too."
Ignoring the revulsion he felt at the idea, he managed to keep his smile. "You’re too good to me."
"Ooo! It'll be so much fun, and after the Slayer is dead, Sunnydale will be, like, ours!"
"That's right, luv. Now you run along to bed and I'll join you later."
Placated, Harmony kissed him and hurried off. "Don’t stay up too late. I still need my Blondie Bear to cuddle."
"Right, luv, be there soon," he answered absently, waiting until she'd gone to bed before picking up the journal again.
He'd been writing for hours, pouring his memory into the stolen blank tome. He had learned much from Dawn during the summer of Buffy's death about what had happened and the events that had occurred during that horrible year. Now he had a general gist of events and a tentative timeline, but he wasn't sure of exactly when things were going to happen. He knew that soon Buffy would cast an unveiling spell that would reveal Dawn's true nature and have her first run-in with Glory. Shortly after, Glory would send the Lei-ach demons after Buffy, and Glinda, afraid that the Scoobies would discover her "demon" would cast her spell of non-seeing. He was of two minds as to what to do about that. He knew he couldn't change things too drastically.
Then would come Joyce's surgery and the Quellar demon. He made a note about that. If he was lucky, he could get the demon before it hurt Joyce, but then he remembered that the Quellar had struck during the day.
'Just have to be in the house again, s'all.'
After that would come the snake demon.
'Be at the Magic Box, take it out before it sees Nibblet.'
From there, he wasn't sure what to do. He knew that he wanted to prevent Buffy from discovering his attraction to her, and thus prevent the whole Buffy-bot fiasco. But that would also mean that Glory would never get him and he would never suffer the Hell Bitch's torture. And while he hadn't really enjoyed getting carved up and beaten to a pulp, his refusal to give Dawn and Buffy away had scored him major points with the Slayer.
'I'll just have to score points with her in other ways…'
His soul stirred and reminded him that love was unselfish and did not act with ulterior motives. His demon growled and stamped it down, but then grudgingly had to admit that the soul was right.
'Can't win Buffy if she thinks I'm only doing it to get in good with her.'
The soul gave a victory cheer and he scowled.
'Shut up, you. No wonder Peaches spent ninety years eating rats, and brooding like a poof. This whole bloody soul thing is like having Jimminy Cricket living in your bloody head!'
Still, at least being back in time had given him something else to focus on aside from all the killing and maiming he had done. While he had come a long way in assimilating his new soul during his convalescence in the African cave, he knew that he still had a great deal further to go before he would be fully reconciled with his new "addition." Concentrating on the task at hand helped him set aside the nightmare that was his bloody past. But he hadn't tried to sleep yet.
'Wonder how Harm would react to a screaming lunatic in her bed.'
Chapter 5
Spike waited and watched. He knew that Buffy was going to have her first run-in with Glory very soon and he was torn. He didn’t know if he should help Buffy or stay behind to watch over Joyce and Dawn. He finally came to the conclusion that Glory wasn't going to hurt Buffy, and that Buffy would get vital information about Dawn if he let things be. Decision made, he went to the Summers' house, hoping to get a better idea of where he was in the timeline. He knew Joyce was home from the hospital, and that Buffy was very worried about her. Maybe it was time to do a little more pushing.When he got to the house, he heard Dawn's yell and almost went haring through the front door. Then he heard Buffy warn Dawn to stay away from her mother, and remembered what Dawn had told him about Buffy's reaction to the unveiling spell. So instead of running to the rescue, he stopped and waited by the tree, smoking a cigarette. A few minutes later, Buffy came out.
"Slayer," he called, catching her attention.
She stopped and looked at him, surprised that he was there, then her mouth hardened into a thin line. "What are you doing here, Spike?"
He put out his cigarette, crushing the butt under his boot. "Heard your mum was out of hospital. Came to see how she was doin'."
The line softened a bit and Buffy seemed to deflate. "She's better. She went out."
"Glad to hear it. Did they do one of them CAT scans?"
Buffy shook her head. "Not yet. They're waiting for more test results to come back."
He scowled. "Not good enough, Slayer. You take her back and make 'em do one."
"Oh like, I just drag her back there and beat an orderly until he agrees to do one?" she snapped.
He shrugged. "Might work."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Look, Spike. Thanks for coming by, but I don't have time for this. I gotta go. I'll tell Mom you were asking about her."
"Thanks. Right then, off you go."
They moved to go their separate ways, when he looked up and saw Dawn in the window. She looked stricken and his heart clenched.
'Poor Little Bit.'
"Hey, Slayer!" he called, making her turn around. "Be careful. Lotsa nasties out there. Be on your guard."
Her brow creased at his warning and he paused, trying not to look guilty, but then she straightened and put on her defiant face.
"I can handle myself. Good night, Spike."
He couldn’t help but smile, watching her walk away- head high. This was a Buffy untouched by grief: strong and powerful. This was the Buffy he had wanted to die for. He waited until she was out of sight before turning back to the house and going in. He found Dawn pouring herself a glass of juice in the kitchen.
"Hello, Bite Size," he greeted.
Dawn shrieked and dropped the glass. It shattered all over the floor.
"Oh now look at the mess you've made?" he tsked disapprovingly.
"What are you doing here?! Buffy is so gonna kick your ass when she finds out you came in," Dawn snapped, backing against the counter as he moved past her to get the mop and broom.
"Now, now. No need to get nasty, Bite Size. I just came to see your mum."
He handed her the broom and dustpan so she could sweep up the broken glass. She accepted them warily.
"Mom's not here. She went out."
"I'll just wait for her then."
Dawn swept up the glass and went to empty the dustpan into the trash.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
Spike puffed out his chest and smirked, he thumbs hooking into the waistband of his jeans. "Scared of the Big Bad, are you?"
Dawn scoffed. "Oh like really. I know about your chip, Spike."
He deflated a bit, and she gave him a smug smile as she took the mop from him and started cleaning up the spilled juice.
"So you know about my little plastic problem, do you?" he whispered, leaning into her ear and causing her to jump.
Her teenage hand slapped him on the chest, pushing him away. He barely felt it.
"Get away from me!" she yelled, dropping the mop and skittering across the kitchen floor.
He gave her a grin and snagged a potato chip from an open bag. "So, whatchya got to eat in this place, Bite Size, besides you?"
Dawn huffed and opened the snack cabinet. Five minutes later they were both sitting at the counter drinking cocoa and nibbling on junk food.
"Mmm. Ho-ho's. I tell you, the bloke that came up with these things, bloody brilliant he was," Spike sighed, popping one in his mouth.
Dawn giggled and he shot her an irritated glance.
"What?" he said defensively.
"You're just so different from all the other vampires I've met. I mean, you eat food, and you're not all evil and scary…"
"Hey! I am too evil and scary! You take that back!" he demanded, standing up.
His indignant look only made her laugh more and inwardly her laughter warmed him. This was a Dawn who had never lost her mum, her sister or ever suffered. But still, he had an image to preserve.
"No," she refused, still smiling.
"You take it back or I'll… I'll…"
She crossed her arms and waited. "Or you'll…"
He growled and hunched back down on the stool, pretending to sulk. She giggled again and he had a truly evil thought. One even the soul wanted to follow through with.
"Or I'll… smash your Barbie Dreamhouse into little plastic bits," he threatened, a gleam in his eye.
Dawn registered her shock clearly on her face. "You wouldn’t dare!" Then her expression hardened. "Hey, how'd you know I had a Barbie Dreamhouse?"
'Oops. Busted. Quick, think fast.'
"Doesn't every red blooded, American girl have one? Don’t they, like, give the parents a gift certificate for one at birth?" he hedged. He didn’t want her to know that he had seen it in her bedroom one day during the long summer of Buffy's death.
The scowl was back, and he knew he had deflected any more prying questions. "Don’t you touch my Dreamhouse."
He was about to retort something back when the front door opened, and they heard Joyce calling for her daughters. A moment later she entered the kitchen.
"Oh, hello, Spike," Joyce said, surprised to see him.
"Hello, Joyce," he greeted, vacating his stool and ushering her to sit.
"Mom, you’re back real early."
Joyce let out a heavy sigh and sat down. "I know. I called off my big night out on account of my feeling crappy."
Spike was already moving about the kitchen, setting the kettle on the stove and pulling out tea. If either Joyce or Dawn wondered how he knew where everything was kept, they didn’t say.
"So, to what do we owe this pleasure?" Joyce asked as he set the teacup and bag on the counter along with the sugar.
"Just stopped by to see how you were doing," he answered.
Joyce sighed. "Crappy. I was feeling better earlier, but now…"
"Want more of your pills?" Dawn asked hopefully.
Joyce put a hand to her head and winced. "That might be a good idea, honey. They're upstairs. Would you get them?"
Dawn hurried out as Spike took a good look at the ailing woman.
"You're feeling poorly, Joyce. You should go back to the hospital. Get more tests. Get a CAT scan."
"I'll be fine just as soon as I take more pills."
"'S no good, Joyce. You shouldn't be in this much pain."
He placed both hands on the counter and looked at her, silently forcing her to look at him. Understanding passed between them as adult met adult, and Joyce's façade faded.
"I have to take care of them. They can't be worried about me. Buffy can't be worried about me," she said softly, letting the fear seep into her eyes for him to see.
He nodded then patted her hand as the teakettle went off. "It'll be alright, Mum. I promise."
She gave him a grateful smile and nod as he poured the water into her cup.
"Thank you," she said, and he knew it wasn't just for the tea, but Dawn had just returned with Joyce's medication so he couldn't comment further.
"'S, no problem. Call it payback for the cocoa."
"Here, Mom," Dawn said, handing her mother the bottle of pills.
Joyce kissed her daughter's hair. "Thank you, sweetie."
Spike picked up the cup of tea and motioned towards the door. "Why don't you go sit down on the couch, Mum. 'S more comfortable there."
Joyce reluctantly agreed and let herself be guided to the living room. Dawn helped her get comfortable by arranging the pillows for her while Spike placed her teacup on the cocktail table. Then he sat back and watched the two interact; Dawn fluttering about her mother like a fledgling bird. Contentment seeped into him as he watched them, and he wondered briefly if his body had really died in that African cave and this was now his afterlife. If it was, he wasn't sure if it was heaven or hell. So far, while not all harps and flowers, he couldn't say it wasn't nice. It certainly wasn't hell. Of that he was certain. Unless… unless he couldn't change the outcome and was forced to lose Joyce and Buffy all over again, doomed to constantly try to find the way to save them but never succeeding. Like Sisyphus in Hades. That would truly be Hell.
'And it would show that Satan has a bloody twisted sense of humor.'
He was dwelling on his thoughts when Buffy arrived home. She looked sore and tired, but the sight of her still warmed him and he couldn’t suppress a smile. Both he and Dawn stood as she came in; Dawn to snark at her sister before running upstairs, and him to greet her.
"She's feeling a bit poorly, Slayer," he whispered when she looked askance at him. "Gave her some pills and tea, but she needs to go back to hospital. She needs that CAT scan."
Buffy looked at him, her eyes worried and tired, and nodded. He gave her a reassuring smile, then turned to Joyce.
"I'll be off, Mum. You feel better now, alright. I'll come by to check on you in a day or so."
Joyce gave him a tired smile. "Thank you, Spike."
He smiled back, nodded to Buffy, then left. He wasn't needed and he could tell from Buffy's posture that she was hiding bruises. That meant she'd probably had her first meet-n-greet with Glory and found out that Dawn was the Key. He had to get back to his crypt and plan his next move.
Chapter 6
Harmony was sleeping the sleep of the sexually sated, which suited Spike just fine. Wearing her out in bed gave him a couple of hours of nightmare-free, exhausted sleep, and allowed him quiet time when he awoke. She would sleep for another five hours at least, giving him long stretches of time to read and plan.According to his notes and his memory, Glinda would be casting her spell of non-seeing any day now, and he had to be ready to fight the Lei-ach demons. He thought he would be alright with that. His body was fine physically. It was just his mind that was unstable part of the time. He found that if he kept himself busy with plans and reworking of plans, the weight of his new soul wasn't so heavy. He still worked himself to exhaustion and woke up with a nightmare branded in his mind's eye, but it was getting easier. Or so it seemed. Really, he wasn't sure if he would ever be okay, and he knew he would never be the same, but he supposed his recovery was keyed to how successful his foray into time travel would be.
So far, he had changed a number of events that he remembered, all of them for the good, and he'd taken to circling the Scooby territory like a tethered sentinel, concentrating on Dawn and Joyce. Not being exactly sure of the exact time of events left him edgy, and with a constant sense of eerie deja-vu. Luckily, it looked like he was getting away with his plan. None of the Scoobies seemed to question his actions or find his behavior suspicious. Or if they did, they weren't saying anything.
The one thing he refrained from interfering with at all, was Riley's slow decent into vamp whoredom. No longer Super Soldier, all of Riley's insecurities were coming to the surface, and Buffy's inability to share her fears and weakness with him was starting to wear on him. Spike understood and saw what was happening, but he did not move to stop it. In truth, even with the soul, he didn't care a whit about Riley, and had never forgiven him for his role in the Initiative. Spike still believed that Riley was not the right man for Buffy, and it appeared that his soul was in agreement. Still, he wasn't sure how he would break the news of Riley's transgressions to Buffy this time around.
But Riley was the least of his problems. He still hadn't figured out a way to kill Ben, or if he should even attempt to kill Glory's human host. He knew he couldn't merely ask someone else, like Harmony for instance, to kill the intern. There was too much at risk, and if the attempt failed, then Glory would most certainly come after him. But that left him with the impossible task of killing the human himself, something the chip would not let him do. What he needed was an accomplice who knew and understood exactly what was at stake. The only person he could think of that was even remotely suitable was Giles, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to bring anyone into his confidence just yet.
He was brought out of his thoughts by a waking Harmony.
"Mmmm, come back to bed, baby. I'm cold."
Spike rubbed his tired eyes. Maybe another shag and a couple more hours of sleep would do him good. Putting the journal away in its locked box, he joined Harmony in bed.
"Mmph," she cooed, snuggling up. "You’re always reading and writing in that dumb journal but you never tell me what it is you're planning."
"Sorry, pet," he placated. "Not ready yet. When it is, you'll be the first to know."
"And I'll be the one to kill the Slayer?"
He gave her a grin, but didn’t answer, then kissed her to distract her. As he covered her with his body, he felt her surrender and give in to his attentions.
Chapter 7
She left that evening to go shopping and he knew that the day of Glinda's spell had come. He waffled on trying to decide when to head for the magic shop, but in the end decided to leave before Harmony returned so he could be there as the Lei-ach demons were arriving.He had given some thought to killing them before they even got to the Magic Box, but ruled against it. If the Lei-ach demons had never come to shop, Tara's spell would never have been revealed and her family would have dragged her off with her still thinking she was a demon. If he let things unfold the way they had before, with just some minor modifications, then the outcome would be the same and Tara's family would be sent back home with a flea in their ear.
When he arrived at the Magic Box and Buffy didn't see him come into the training room, he knew that Glinda had already cast her spell. Positioning himself by the training room door, he waited for the Lei-achs to get there. He didn’t have to wait long. Less than ten minutes later, the three demons entered the magic shop and two came into the training room. He hid by the exit so they wouldn’t see him when they entered.
"Buffy! Behind you!" he warned as the demon attacked.
"What the?" Buffy gasped as she was struck by an invisible foe. "Spike!"
"I'm here, Buffy. It's a Lei-ach demon. It's on your left!"
She swung left, her fist hitting the beast and sending it flying, but she still couldn’t see it or Spike.
"Where are you?" she demanded.
"Right here," he answered, standing next to her right shoulder. "You can't see me. Gl--Someone's cast a spell of non-seeing!"
"A what?"
Spike saw the second Lei-ach approaching and prepared to do battle. "A spell of non-seeing. There’s another one here! It's coming at you from the left!"
Buffy took up fighting stance. "Are there any others?"
"One more, in the shop." He leaped and threw himself at the demon. "I’ve got this one. You go help the others!"
He watched until she was out of the training room before turning to his opponent. Lei-ach demons were strong, but not very fast or bright, and Spike easily overpowered it. He killed it with the scythe he grabbed from the wall and then hurried out to help Buffy.
It was at about that time that Tara arrived with her family, realized what was happening and revoked the spell, revealing the tableau of carnage and Buffy finishing off the Lei-ach she was fighting.
"What in gods name is that?" Tara's father demanded after witnessing Buffy snap the demon’s neck.
"Lei-ach demon. Fun little buggers. Big with the marrow sucking," Spike replied, coming out of the training room.
"I don’t understand," Tara’s father said.
"I'm not sure I do either," Buffy commented, looking down at Tara, who was huddled by the counter.
"I'm sorry... I'm s-so sorry..." she was repeating over and over.
Willow approached her, confused and worried.
"I w-was just trying to hide... the spell went wrong..."
"Tara, what..." Willow asked.
"I didn't want you to see... what I am," Tara admitted, trembling.
"What you are?"
"I told you, you try to run from it you'll put these people in danger," Tara’s father said, then motioned to the dead demon. "And, my God…"
"I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt."
"I think you better explain. What do you mean, what you are?" Buffy demanded calmly.
"Demon," her father answered for her because she couldn’t stop stuttering. "The women in our family have... demon in them. Her mother had it; it's where the magic comes from. This isn't something we generally like to share with strangers. We came to take her home before... well, before things like this started happening."
"Tara, you're not... how could you not say something to me... to me..." Willow asked, stricken and near tears.
Tara looked away, unable to answer. Giles stepped forward. "You put a spell on us to keep us from seeing your demon side. That's why we couldn't see our attackers."
"And nearly got us killed," Buffy pointed out, looking at Dawn.
Tara rose to her feet unsteadily. "I’ll go. I’m very sorry."
"The camper’s outside," her father told her gruffly.
"Wait! Go? She just did a spell that went wrong! Buffy, it was just a mistake!" Willow begged, not wanting to see her lover leave.
"It's not the point and it's not your concern. The girl belongs with us. We know how to control her problem," Tara’s father insisted.
Willow refused to leave it at that. "Tara, look at me. I trusted you more than anyone in
my life. Was all of that a lie?""No! No..." Tara firmly denied.
"Do you want to leave?"
"That is not your decision, young lady," Tara’s father said.
"I know that," Willow snapped, then turned to Tara. "Do you want to leave?"
Sniffing, Tara shook her head slightly.
"You are going to do what's right, Tara. Now I am taking you out of here before somebody DOES get killed. The girl belongs with her family, I hope that's clear to the rest of you," her father interrupted.
Buffy looked at Dawn, then at Tara, the wheels turning in her head. Spike watched the lights come on behind her green eyes and had to smile.
"It is. You want her, Mr. Maclay, you can go ahead and take her," Buffy said in her Slayer voice, crossing her arms and facing the man. "You just gotta go through me."
"What?" Tara’s father blurted.
"You heard me. You wanna take Tara out of here against her will, then you gotta come through me," Buffy repeated calmly.
Dawn stepped up to stand beside her sister. "And me."
‘That’s my girls,’Spike thought, biting his bottom lip to keep from smiling with pride. Then he looked over at Tara to see what was happening register on her face. ‘No one’s ever fought for you, eh Glinda? It’s a good feeling innit?’
Chapter 8
"Is this a joke? I am not gonna be threatened by two little girls," Tara’s father argued,"You don't wanna mess with us," Dawn replied, holding her chin high.
"She's a hair-puller," Buffy told him, pointing at her sister.
Giles stepped up, cleaning his glasses and raising his eyes to meet Mr. Maclay’s. "And you're not just dealing with two little girls."
"You're dealing with all of us," Xander added.
Before, Spike had denied caring, but this time he moved to stand by Willow and Tara, arms crossed, the threat in his posture clearly evident. The others gave him shocked looks.
"What?" he snapped defensively. "I don’t kill a Lei-ach demon for just anybody, you know… Well actually… but still, that’s not the point…"
He froze as Tara looked at him with open eyes and a fissure of fear ran up his spine.
‘She knows! She knows I knew about the spell, and that she was the one that cast it.’
For a moment, he was certain that Tara was going to give him away, but then her father’s ranting saved him.
"This is insane! You people have no right to interfere in Tara's affairs. We are her blood kin -- who the hell are you?"
"We're family," Buffy answered as they grouped around Willow and Tara, staring him down.
Mr. Maclay turned away, but Tara’s brother Donny protested.
"Dad, you're not gonna let them…" When he saw his father’s expression, he started towards Tara. "Tara, if you don't get in that car, I swear by God I will beat you down."
Xander puffed out his chest and refused to move out of the way. "And I swear by your full and manly beard you're gonna break something trying."
Spike saw the look in Donny’s eyes and didn’t like it. Without a word, he moved to add his support to Xander.
‘Pillock doesn’t need to know I can’t hit him.’
Donny looked at the two of them and backed down.
"Well, I hope you'll all be happy hanging around with a disgusting demon," Tara’s cousin Beth sneered.
Anya raised her hand, "Excuse me. What kind?"
Beth blinked. "What?"
"What kind of demon is she? There's a lot of different kinds, some are very very evil, while some have been considered to be useful members of society..." Anya explained, giving Xander a loving look.
"Well, I don't... what does it matter?" Beth replied, flustered.
"Evil is evil," Tara’s father insisted.
"Well, let's just narrow it down..." Anya pressed.
‘And here’s my cue…’ Spike mused. ‘Don’t give myself a chip headache for just anybody either.’
"Oh, I get it…" he said, approaching Tara. "Here, why don’t I make this simple."
‘One migraine coming up,’he cringed to himself as he popped Tara on the nose with a quick jab. The shock blinded him with pain, and he yowled as Tara yelped.
"Hey!" Willow yelled, then her eyes opened wide in understanding. "Hey!"
"He hit my nose," Tara cried, holding her injured face.
"And it hurt! I mean, him!" Willow exclaimed excitedly.
"And that only works with humans..." Buffy announced smugly.
"There's no demon in there," Spike said, shaking off the pain. "That's just the family legend, am I right? Bit of spin to keep the ladies in line? Oh, you're a piece of work. I like you."
"I'm not a demon," Tara sobbed.
"You’re not a demon," Willow affirmed, smiling.
"He hit my nose."
Spike, his hand still on his forehead, muttered, "Yeah, well, you’re welcome."
His voice caught Tara's attention. She looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and awe on her face, and he once again got the impression that she was seeing right through him. It was the first time he'd seen Tara since he’d been sent back and he cursed himself for thinking he would be able to fool her. Even as she blinked at him, he saw the wheels turning behind her eyes and knew he had to do something to deflect attention from himself. Thankfully, Giles did it for him by addressing Tara’s father.
"Mr. Maclay, I'd say your business here is finished."
Tara’s father tried one more time. "Tara... for eighteen years your family has taken care of you and supported you, if you wanna turn your back…"
Spike watched as a new expression of pride and self-confidence came across her face and she stood up to her father for the first time in her life. "Dad. Just go."
There was a moment of tense silence, and then they obeyed, sulking out, muttering about magic, until the door closed behind them. Tara breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Willow.
"I’m so sorry," she apologized again.
Willow hugged her. "It’s okay, baby. I understand why you did it."
Spike saw Tara’s eyes meet his over Willow’s shoulder, and she kept looking at him as she left her lover’s embrace. Her gaze bore into him and he was suddenly afraid. He knew if she revealed his secret, he would have to have a clever lie ready to deny her claim, but the young woman surprised him with her empathy and understanding.
"Thank you, Spike, for what you did. I know it caused you pain."
He blinked and looked away. "Well, if I hadn’t then you would have left here thinkin’ you were a demon and I couldn’t have that could I? Bloody imposter you’d be. Give us real demons a bad name."
Tara smiled at him and laughed softly. "Perish the thought," Then more timidly, held out like an olive branch, "We’re headed to the Bronze now. It’s my birthday. Would you like to come?"
Her simple offer left him dumbstruck and he fought the tears that welled in his eyes. He knew she could see the effect her invitation had on him, but she respected his privacy and didn’t call attention to it. Still, it took him a moment to swallow the lump in his throat.
‘She sees me. She really sees me. She’s always seen me…’
It meant more to him than words could say, but he knew if he accepted, things were bound to go wrong.
"I’d love to, pet, but I have other plans. Maybe some other time though."
She nodded and gave him another smile. "Okay."
They fell silent for several moments, none of them quite sure what to say. Spike was the first to speak.
"Well, I’d best be off. Give your mum my best, Slayer. Tell her I’ll be by to see her soon."
"Goodnight, Spike," he heard Buffy say as he sauntered out with a swagger. The saunter was gone as soon as he was out of the shop, however, replaced by slumped shoulders and a sigh of relief.
‘Another thing changed, another day gone.’ Buffy had died on May 22nd. ‘Only 197 more days to go.’
Chapter 9
Spike was alone. Harmony had taken to going out more and more as his obsession with his journal infringed upon his attentions toward her. She resented his constant preoccupation, and nightly sex was doing little to placate her. Her absence was both welcome and irritating. At least when she was there, she was a willing partner and he could use her to reach the drop-undead exhaustion he needed in order to sleep, but she would also demand his attention when he was busy, then get angry when he would not stop what he was doing.What he was doing was grinding his teeth and pacing like a caged animal. Despite his efforts, he had been unsuccessful in convincing Buffy or Joyce to return to the hospital for a CAT scan. He knew that she would go soon when the results from the first barrage of tests came back, but it meant that he'd been throwing himself against that particular wall for nearly three weeks.
He was mentally and physically exhausted and frustrated, and even more convinced that he really was dead and in hell. It seemed that no matter what he tried, he couldn't affect big change, and he was beginning to think that that all his efforts were in vain. He was trapped. He couldn’t tell Buffy and the Scoobies the truth. He couldn’t kill Ben. He couldn't stop Glory from hunting for the Key. He couldn’t even get a woman one-third his age to go to the bloody hospital! It had him seething, chomping at the bit like a high-strung horse, and near to bursting with feelings of helplessness and rage.
It was in this state that Buffy found him when she came storming into his crypt and slammed him against the stone pillar. As his face hit the rough surface, he remembered all too well the last time she had done this and what she had wanted from him. He knew where this was going. She'd come to hear about the Slayers, and planned to pay him for his story of how he defeated them.
He'd been expecting her to show up, planning how he would do things differently, but her assault hurt in more than one way. His new soul disliked pain and his demon had never been terribly fond of it to begin with, so the unwarranted attack upset him. The fact that Buffy still felt it necessary to beat him up whenever she wanted anything from him was also a sore point. He had hoped after three weeks of cooperation and relatively bloodless, painless interaction that Buffy would ease up on her habit of "kick-the-Spike," but it would seem that Buffy had other ideas. He was starting to suspect that she was already using him as her punching bag, an "acceptable" outlet for her anger and frustration, and that he had allowed it without ever really noticing what she was doing.
'I was just so happy that she was there, acknowledging me. Negative attention was better than no attention,' he realized as she ground his cheek into the stone then turned him around.
"To what do I owe these bruises, Slayer?" he asked coolly, looking at her.
Her eyes flashed anger and indignation, but no remorse, no acknowledgement of how abusive she was being.
'She doesn’t see me as anything but a monster, an unfeeling, soul-less monster. To her it doesn't matter if she hurts me because I'm just a demon.'
The thought saddened him, and not merely because he now had a soul, but because he knew how misguided she and the Council of Watchers were about the true nature of demons.
'Maybe I can use tonight's lessons to teach her more than just about the Slayers I killed.'
"Slayers. You killed two of them," she said tightly.
He feigned surprise and concern. "I did."
"You’re gonna show me how."
"I am, am I?" he countered.
She punched him in the face and he yowled in pain, grabbing his nose.
"Yes, you are."
He was bleeding, his soul crying, as he staunched the wound.
'I don’t want to do this, but I have no choice. Tonight's the night she finds out about her mum going back to hospital for, finally, the bloody CAT scan. Only three weeks late!'
"Alright, Slayer, you've convinced me."
"I knew you’d see it my way, besides, there's cash in it for you."
"Joy," he replied without enthusiasm. "Where do you want to begin?"
"Not here. I don’t want to be stuck in this place alone with you for any length of time. We'll go to the Bronze."
His hurting soul allowed the demon more slack on its tether as it reeled from the pain she had dealt it.
"Afraid to be alone with me, eh pet?" he sneered.
"Don’t make me break your jaw, Spike," she threatened, turning to walk out.
Spike followed, swallowing his pain and wounds, his eyes watching the back of her head.
'I love you. I love you and you hurt me. I love you. I hate you. I love you.'
He let her take him to the Bronze and buy him American beer. Once again, she scowled at his attempt at civilized conversation and brought him back to the subject at hand. He, again, demanded wings as part of his payment.
"Just as I thought," he commented, drawing attention to her gasp of pain and reflexive holding of her injured side. "So, what nasty got a piece of you and is it dead yet?"
"I'm fine. It's nothing. Riley's taking care of it."
"Soldier Boy? Really?"
"What? You don’t think Riley can handle himself?" she demanded, defensive.
He sat back, backpedaling a bit. "I didn't say that. It's just… with him not being Super Soldier anymore… could make a man do things he normally wouldn't do. Make him take risks where he might not have before."
She winced and he knew he'd hit a nerve. "Riley's fine."
"I'm just sayin'… I know what it's like to have all of your power and reason for being taken away from you overnight. Can make a weaker man do some stupid things," he explained reasonably, knowing she would realize that he was questioning Riley’s manhood.
"Have you always been this big of a pain in the ass?"
He gave her an evil smirk. "What can I tell you, baby. I've always been bad."
Chapter 10
Spike spun his tale, much the same one he had told her the first time he had done this. He made minor changes here and there, but paused when he caught Buffy frowning at him after his tale of the Chinese Slayer."What are you looking at?" he asked, but he knew what she was going to say.
"You got off on it," she accused.
"Well, yeah. And don't tell me you don't get off on killing my kind, that you don't enjoy the victory and the power rush every time you dust one of us, that you don't want to climb Captain Cardboard's tree after a night of heavy slaying."
She moved to protest but he cut her off, seeing the guilty look in her eyes.
"The problem is, you do get off on it. But you've been taught by the bloody Council of Wankers that it's wrong for you to feel this way. That it's dirty. It's not dirty. It's natural. There's plenty of humans out there that get their kicks off pain and violence. Normal humans with souls. You’re not a normal human, pet, and you've got appetites that the normal, mundane population of this miserable town couldn’t even begin to understand or fathom," he countered, moving around the pool table.
She was looking disgusted, but he had her attention, and his demon thrilled as he pressed his advantage.
"That Slayer that went to the dark side, what was her name? Faith? She understood what I'm talkin' about. That brief stint with the body-switching, she was here, teasin' everything with balls, including me. She knew about power and sex and what it does to a Slayer. And she wasn't the only one. You think she was the bad-egg, the anomaly, but the truth of the matter is that she wasn't the off one, you are."
"There is nothing wrong with me!" she snapped angrily.
'Oooh. Hit a nerve, did I?'
"No, there isn't. But there are parts of you, Slayer, that don’t accept what you are, that fight the power and the darkness, yes darkness, in you, and I'm telling you that one day, that will get you killed," he pressed.
Buffy crossed her arms and glared at him. "Oh, and you'll just be dancing and throwing a party when that happens."
The words hit him like a physical blow and he flinched, both his soul and his demon screaming in protest. 'No. I'll be a useless wreck, clinging to a half-grown girl. But if I'm lucky, I won't ever have to find out because I'll either save you or die trying.'
He tried to set up another shot, but his hands were shaking so badly that it veered wide.
"Think about this, Slayer: there's countless numbers of us and only one of you. It only takes one of us to get a lucky shot or catch you on a bad day for it to all be over," he said, leaning on his pool cue and consciously choosing to leave out the 'one good day' line he had uttered before. "But that's why we're here, innit?"
He paused to look at her, then motioned to the table. "It's your move, love."
She took him outside, demanded a blow-by-blow, play-by-play of his fight with the New York Slayer, and he obliged her as he had done before.
"Okay, give it to me," she pressed, and he lunged at her.
She ducked and came up behind him, but this time he was ready for her and swung around. She missed grabbing him and hit the wall, making him laugh.
"What?" she sneered, regaining her composure.
"Lesson the second: ask the right questions. You want to know how I beat 'em?"
She gestured for him to continue and the exhilaration began flooding through his body. They were dancing and he'd missed it. Even his soul was excited, moreso because he knew this evening would end differently than it had before. Or so he hoped.
"The question isn't 'how'd I win.' The question is why'd they lose?"
"What's the difference?"
He attacked with the pool cue, stopping just inches from her throat.
"There's a big difference, luv."
Buffy swatted the pool cue right out of his hand and sent it flying without a flinch. He let her.
"How'd you kill the second one?"
He shrugged then said, "Well, it went a bit like this…"
He threw three punches at her head in quick succession, using his vampire strength. Buffy easily moved out of the way.
"That didn't hurt?" she accused, a wary look entering her eyes.
Spike shook his head. "Knew I couldn't touch you. If there's no intent to hurt you, then the chip they shoved up my brain never activates. If, on the other hand..." He vamped out and swung another punch right at her face. Before his fist could connect, however, his chip fired and he reeled off with a howl. Breathing heavily, clutching his forehead, he shook off his demon.
"See, now that hurt."
"Yeah?" She punched him. "That hurt too?"
"Definite pain there," he admitted.
"How'd you kill 'em, Spike?"
He moved for her again, but she grabbed him, flipped him onto his back and straddled him, a stake to his heart. If he'd had a pulse, it would have been pounding, as it was he was breathing heavily, excited and aroused and tortured by the knowledge of what was to come.
"You're not ready to know." 'You’re alive and vibrant and full of joy, and you use me, abuse me and I want to hate you, but I can't. I love you. I love you even though I'm nothing to you. Why can't I hate you!'
"I'm ready," she countered firmly, pressing the stake into his flesh.
'Would she really kill me? Would that be such a bad thing? No, can’t. Gotta stay with her so I can protect Dawn and save Joyce. Okay, once more unto the brink…'
"Okay then. Went like this…"
He flipped Buffy off him, sending her sprawling as he reenacted his fight with the New York Slayer.
"The first one was all business. But the second - now she had a touch of your style," he said, lunging and parrying with her.
"She was cunning, resourceful, and oh, did I mention? Hot. I could have danced all night with that one."
"You think we're dancing?" Buffy countered, avoiding another blow.
Spike came in close to her face. "It's all we've ever done."
He backed away from her, retrieving the pool cue and spinning it as he had once spun the subway car support pole he had ripped out all those years ago,
"Every day you wake up it's the same bloody question what haunts you: Is today the day I die?"
Buffy tried to punch him but she missed and he continued, "...every time the sun rises. And every day you manage to survive, you're only partly relieved because you know - it's just a matter of time."
Using the cue as a quarterstaff, he went after her with enthusiasm, reveling in the rush, the feeling of being free with her.
"Death is on your heels, baby - and, sooner or later, it's going to catch you..."
Buffy kicked out, barely missing his genitals. He rolled, flipping out of her way, to land on his knees. Breathing heavily, he licked his lips, loving the sight of her in full battle mode. Powerful, undefeated, magnificent. She was glorious and he was her fool.
"And some part of you wants it. Not only to stop the fear and uncertainty - but because you're just a little bit in love with it. Death is your art. You make it with your hands, day after day."
She came to stand before him and he stayed on his knees looking up at her with an expression of sublime peace.
"Part of you is desperate to know... What's it like? Where does it lead you? So you see, that's the secret. Not the punch she didn't throw or the kick she didn't land. She
simply wanted it. Every Slayer has a death wish."
He waited on his knees, waiting to see if she would say anything, and when she merely stared at him, nostrils flaring, he rose to his feet.
"But not you, luv. At least not yet. You still have ties to this world: your mum, your sister, the Scoobies. They’re what keep you fighting," he explained. "See, the Council of Wankers think family and friends’ll distract a Slayer from her duties, so they take the potentials away from their folks and give ‘em to their Watchers to raise. They grow up in isolation, force-fed the Council’s line of rubbish about sacred duty and sacrifice, and by the time they’ve been Slaying for two years, they’re all worn out. They want to die. I just happened to be the one who wore ‘em down enough to give ‘em what they wanted."
Buffy snorted in disgust, but didn’t turn away.
‘Yeah, luv. You might not like what I have to say, but you know I’m tellin’ the truth.’
"They died because they lost the will to fight. They had nothing to fight for. Even the military knows that soldiers who don’t get letters from home are the ones that die, or stop fighting. And, make no mistake, Buffy, you are a soldier, a true warrior, and you think and act like one. Your family and friends, they remind you of why you fight this fight every night. They’re your letters from home."
He looked at her earnestly, noting that she seemed to fold in upon herself, her eyes lost and sad. He stood close to her, but did not touch her. He wanted to, but he knew it was too soon. She wasn’t ready to accept comfort from him just yet.
"The reason you slipped up, Buffy," he said softly, gently. "Is because you’re worried about your mum. She’s got you thinkin’ about her and not on fightin’ the nasties. As soon as everything’s all right again, you’ll be back in fightin’ trim and nothing will get close enough to touch you. But until then, it’s probably best if you don’t patrol alone."
She met his eyes, her expression pained. "I wasn’t alone. Riley was with me."
He nodded, but didn’t comment. He didn’t need to. She was already forming her own conclusions about Riley.
"How is Mum doing anyway? Did you take her to get that CAT scan?" He knew that she hadn’t.
"Not yet. But the medication seems to be working. Her headaches aren’t as bad. I think. She was supposed to get the test results back today, but I haven’t seen her to ask if there was any news."
"Here. Lesson’s over. Why don’t I walk you home and we can both get the news together."
She nodded in agreement and turned for home. Spike fell into step beside her, leaving the pool cue lying in the alley. They walked in silence: Buffy lost in her own thoughts and Spike caught in the dread of already knowing what awaited them when they arrived at the Summers’ house. Still, every so often he’d look at her, drinking in the sight of her as she was in her prime. Loving her, hating her, and pretending that she really didn’t think of him as a disgusting monster, but saw him as a man, as her equal.
‘We could’ve been so good together. If only you’d have let me love you.’
He followed her into the house and waited at the bottom of the stairs while she went up to get her mother. He already knew what she would find up there and steeled himself for it. A minute or two later, a visibly upset Buffy came down the stairs, followed by her mother.
"Buffy?" he questioned, pretending ignorance, even as his soul filled with pain.
Buffy shook her head and walked away. He watched her go out the kitchen door to sit on the back porch.
"Joyce?" he asked, looking at the woman.
"I have to go back into the hospital, Spike. My test results came back today and they want to do a CAT scan and run a few more tests."
"About bloody damn time."
His outburst made her smile softly. "Yes, I know you’ve been telling me to go for weeks. You should be happy now."
"I’d have been happier if they’d done it sooner."
Joyce shrugged. "Well, they’re doing it tomorrow. You’ll have to be happy with that." She motioned towards the kitchen. "Want me to make some cocoa?"
He shook his head. "No, but thank you for offerin.’ I think I’ll go see if your eldest needs anything."
The woman looked at him, her expression pensive, but she didn’t try to stop him as he walked towards the back door. He found Buffy crying on the back steps, just as she had been on that first night when he’d stormed into her yard carrying a loaded rifle, hell bent on killing her, right before he couldn’t stand the sight of her tears and turned into a spineless poofter.
This time around, he had no rifle and no murderous intent, but he did sit next to her and gingerly reached over to pat her on the shoulder comfortingly. She cast him a heartbroken glance, then looked off into the distance. He stayed next to her, a silent supporter, until she was ready to go back into the house.
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