Buffy slowly walked down the sidewalk. The night breeze blew against her
face, giving her chills. She pulled the duster closer to her body. It was a
little warm for something that heavy, but it was a comfort. Especially
since she knew that by the end of the night her feet would carry her to the
new highschool.
She remembered what he had been like. It was like he had lost his mind. Mumbling incoherent words to himself, huddling in a corner, and the fact that he had made no move to help her when those zombie/ghosts had attacked her. His hair was a mess. The scratch marks on his chest. Self-inflicted, she could tell.
Why was he like this? She couldn't understand what had driven him to such a state of mind. It was scary.
Buffy had stuck a few things from her first aid kit in the deep pockets of the duster, making sure that Dawn was not aware that she had them.
She wondered if it was a good idea to keep this from Dawn. She would find out sooner or later. How would she react to his insanity? Buffy new Dawn was mad at him. He left her without saying good-bye. But she also knew that Dawn still loved him as much as she did before.
'But how do I feel?' she thought to herself.
Well, that was easy.
She was definitely worried about him. She knew insane, and insane can make people do crazy things. She was worried that he would try and hurt himself again. Those scratches were pretty deep. It was like he was trying to dig inside of his chest.
After a few seconds, she realized that's not what she had meant when she had thought about how she felt.
This was not so easy.
Like she said before, she was worried about him. She wanted to make sure he was all right, hence the first aid.
'You keep avoiding the real question,' that little voice in her head pointed out.
And she knew it.
She had had a lot of time to think about that over the summer. She told everyone else, even Willow. Their reactions were various. Dawn, who had already known, just kind of stared off into space, biting her lip like she was holding back tears. Xander was rubbing it in.
'He'll always be evil!' he said. 'You can't trust him!'
She had mainly ignored his remarks, but didn't ignore him completely. The bond between them was growing. Forgiveness was out there. She didn't want to mess that up.
Giles had been, somewhat, calm about it. He was mad, she could tell. There was this flicker in his eye that he gets when he's completely enraged, but won't show it because he either can't or won't. He'd talked it over with her. After a few minutes of explaining how violent and harsh she had been to him, and though what he did was still inexcusable, it wasn't entirely his fault.
Willow wasn't really 'there.' She just kind of sat and listened. She showed a shocked expression when Buffy told them, and hugged her when she broke down over the emotional battle that was going on inside her.
As Buffy had predicted, there was highschool. It was so different from the old one, the first day of school, she had almost gotten lost once or twice. Especially in that damned basement.
Buffy wondered why he was there in the first place. Didn't Clem watch his place over the summer? Maybe it had something to do with his being not quite sane.
Since she was now a member of the school, she had her own personal key to the front door, and any other doors that might be locked.
Buffy walked down the halls, her heels clicking against the tile. She watched as security cameras taped her walking.
She unlocked the basement door and opened it up. The stairs were mostly dark and the halls below were luminated slightly. She walked down the stairs and looked around, trying to remember where she had found the small room that Spike had been in.
After a few minutes of walking, she couldn't find the stairs anymore.
"Great!" she cried, throwing her hands in the air. "Now I'm lost."
"Lose your way, pet," a voice behind her said softly.
She turned. He was huddled on the floor in a corner behind her.
"Actually, I was looking for you," she replied.
He grinned that insane grin that made her cringe. "Why were you lookin' for me, pet? Afraid some big bad's gonna getchya."
"I-I wanted to see how you were doing," she said, swinging her arms at her sides.
"How I was doing? Well, I'm fine. I'm most perfectly fine..." he continued his ramble.
Buffy kneeled down in front of him. She raised her hand to his cheek. "Spike, what's wrong with you?"
He looked up at her with those intense eyes.
"It's always there," he said softly. "Every second of every day. I can't stand it."
"Can't stand what?"
He looked down. "The memories. Always there. Flashing before my eyes. Driving me insane."
"What memories?"
He looked back up. "You. You're there. I see you. You're crying." He reached out to stroke her cheek. Then, he pulled away abruptly. "I hurt you."
She stroked the side of his face with the back of her hand. He leaned against her hand.
"Spike..." she said, moving his face so that he could look at her. "I'm okay."
"But I hurt you. You were crying." His voice was getting smaller by the second.
"Shh..." she hushed him. "I'm not crying anymore. I'm fine."
Then, slowly, she brushed her lips against his. A brief "'Intervention'- type" kiss.
When she moved back, he was staring at her. His brow was furrowed. His gaze was intense. He looked confused, but not disoriented like he had been earlier.
"I'm sorry," he finally whispered.
"It's okay," she replied softly, her voice wavered and her eyes glassed over.
"I'm so sorry." He pulled her into a hug.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. His tears fell over his chiseled face and onto the duster.
That's when he pulled away, holding her at arm's length. "That's my duster."
She looked down at it and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. I like it. It smells like you."
"What do I smell like, luv?"
Cigarettes, alcohol, leather, male. "You."
He smiled and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You smell like vanilla."
She ran her hand through his mussed and tangled hair. "When's the last time you had a hair cut?"
"Long time before I left."
He smile faded. "Where did you go?"
His smile disappeared also. He didn't say anything.
She moved her hand back to his cheek. "Please, tell me."
He turned away and didn't say anything.
She dropped her hand. "I was worried about you. I missed you. Dawn did, too."
He turned back slightly. "Lil' Bit."
"I don't think she's as little as we all thought."
"Is she okay? You never came back."
Buffy nodded. "Yeah. She's fine. But what about you?" She moved back the material of his black shirt and ran her fingers over the deep gashes.
"I can fix that up for you if you want," she offered.
He looked down at his chest, then looked back up, not saying a word.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Buffy said, slipping the heavy duster off her arms.
Buffy pulled out the little that she had and set it at her side. She gripped Spike's shoulders and made him turn to face her.
She slowly unbuttoned the front of his shirt. He didn't move when she needed to take his shirt off, so pulled his arms out of the sleeves as if she was undressing a small child.
When the shirt was removed, she saw that there were many more bruises and faint lacerations on his stomach. His back was the same way.
"God, what happened?" she asked, letting her hand trail over the fading burn mark on his chest.
As usual, no answer.
She grabbed a bottle, poured the liquid on the cloth, and pressed it on his chest.
Spike hissed in pain, his eyes clenched shut and his teeth grinding.
"Sorry."
She wasn't. He wasn't telling her something and it was pissing her off. Just to make a point that she wasn't happy, she poured more on the cloth and pressed hard on his chest.
He managed to glance over at her between gasps. "You did that on purpose."
"Tell me where you went," she said, not looking at him.
He looked away.
Buffy let go of the cloth and gripped his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Listen to me, Spike. I think I deserve to at least know where you went, considering you left right before an apocalypse."
He furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "Apocalypse?"
Buffy let go of him and looked down to pick up her stuff. "Yeah. Willow tried to end the world."
"Red?"
Buffy nodded. "Tara was shot and killed by Warren. It tore Willow apart."
"Glenda's dead?"
She nodded again. "Xander managed to stop her."
"The whelp?"
Buffy looked up. "Yes."
She finished putting the first aid stuff back in the pockets of the duster and slipped the coat over her body.
He looked up and as she stood. "Where you going with that?"
"I'll be back tomorrow," she ignored his question. "You need anything?"
"Blood."
Buffy crinkled her nose. "Okay."
She looked around, now noticing that there was a yellow sign at the end of the hall that said 'stairs' and had a red arrow on it. She huffed. 'Why didn't I see that in the first place?'
"I guess I'll be going." She turned back to look at him before starting to walk down the hall.
Spike watch her longingly until she was just below the stairs.
Then she stopped and turned back around. "And Spike..."
She gestured to the duster.
"... It looks better on me."
And she dashed up the stairs.
END
She remembered what he had been like. It was like he had lost his mind. Mumbling incoherent words to himself, huddling in a corner, and the fact that he had made no move to help her when those zombie/ghosts had attacked her. His hair was a mess. The scratch marks on his chest. Self-inflicted, she could tell.
Why was he like this? She couldn't understand what had driven him to such a state of mind. It was scary.
Buffy had stuck a few things from her first aid kit in the deep pockets of the duster, making sure that Dawn was not aware that she had them.
She wondered if it was a good idea to keep this from Dawn. She would find out sooner or later. How would she react to his insanity? Buffy new Dawn was mad at him. He left her without saying good-bye. But she also knew that Dawn still loved him as much as she did before.
'But how do I feel?' she thought to herself.
Well, that was easy.
She was definitely worried about him. She knew insane, and insane can make people do crazy things. She was worried that he would try and hurt himself again. Those scratches were pretty deep. It was like he was trying to dig inside of his chest.
After a few seconds, she realized that's not what she had meant when she had thought about how she felt.
This was not so easy.
Like she said before, she was worried about him. She wanted to make sure he was all right, hence the first aid.
'You keep avoiding the real question,' that little voice in her head pointed out.
And she knew it.
She had had a lot of time to think about that over the summer. She told everyone else, even Willow. Their reactions were various. Dawn, who had already known, just kind of stared off into space, biting her lip like she was holding back tears. Xander was rubbing it in.
'He'll always be evil!' he said. 'You can't trust him!'
She had mainly ignored his remarks, but didn't ignore him completely. The bond between them was growing. Forgiveness was out there. She didn't want to mess that up.
Giles had been, somewhat, calm about it. He was mad, she could tell. There was this flicker in his eye that he gets when he's completely enraged, but won't show it because he either can't or won't. He'd talked it over with her. After a few minutes of explaining how violent and harsh she had been to him, and though what he did was still inexcusable, it wasn't entirely his fault.
Willow wasn't really 'there.' She just kind of sat and listened. She showed a shocked expression when Buffy told them, and hugged her when she broke down over the emotional battle that was going on inside her.
As Buffy had predicted, there was highschool. It was so different from the old one, the first day of school, she had almost gotten lost once or twice. Especially in that damned basement.
Buffy wondered why he was there in the first place. Didn't Clem watch his place over the summer? Maybe it had something to do with his being not quite sane.
Since she was now a member of the school, she had her own personal key to the front door, and any other doors that might be locked.
Buffy walked down the halls, her heels clicking against the tile. She watched as security cameras taped her walking.
She unlocked the basement door and opened it up. The stairs were mostly dark and the halls below were luminated slightly. She walked down the stairs and looked around, trying to remember where she had found the small room that Spike had been in.
After a few minutes of walking, she couldn't find the stairs anymore.
"Great!" she cried, throwing her hands in the air. "Now I'm lost."
"Lose your way, pet," a voice behind her said softly.
She turned. He was huddled on the floor in a corner behind her.
"Actually, I was looking for you," she replied.
He grinned that insane grin that made her cringe. "Why were you lookin' for me, pet? Afraid some big bad's gonna getchya."
"I-I wanted to see how you were doing," she said, swinging her arms at her sides.
"How I was doing? Well, I'm fine. I'm most perfectly fine..." he continued his ramble.
Buffy kneeled down in front of him. She raised her hand to his cheek. "Spike, what's wrong with you?"
He looked up at her with those intense eyes.
"It's always there," he said softly. "Every second of every day. I can't stand it."
"Can't stand what?"
He looked down. "The memories. Always there. Flashing before my eyes. Driving me insane."
"What memories?"
He looked back up. "You. You're there. I see you. You're crying." He reached out to stroke her cheek. Then, he pulled away abruptly. "I hurt you."
She stroked the side of his face with the back of her hand. He leaned against her hand.
"Spike..." she said, moving his face so that he could look at her. "I'm okay."
"But I hurt you. You were crying." His voice was getting smaller by the second.
"Shh..." she hushed him. "I'm not crying anymore. I'm fine."
Then, slowly, she brushed her lips against his. A brief "'Intervention'- type" kiss.
When she moved back, he was staring at her. His brow was furrowed. His gaze was intense. He looked confused, but not disoriented like he had been earlier.
"I'm sorry," he finally whispered.
"It's okay," she replied softly, her voice wavered and her eyes glassed over.
"I'm so sorry." He pulled her into a hug.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. His tears fell over his chiseled face and onto the duster.
That's when he pulled away, holding her at arm's length. "That's my duster."
She looked down at it and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. I like it. It smells like you."
"What do I smell like, luv?"
Cigarettes, alcohol, leather, male. "You."
He smiled and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You smell like vanilla."
She ran her hand through his mussed and tangled hair. "When's the last time you had a hair cut?"
"Long time before I left."
He smile faded. "Where did you go?"
His smile disappeared also. He didn't say anything.
She moved her hand back to his cheek. "Please, tell me."
He turned away and didn't say anything.
She dropped her hand. "I was worried about you. I missed you. Dawn did, too."
He turned back slightly. "Lil' Bit."
"I don't think she's as little as we all thought."
"Is she okay? You never came back."
Buffy nodded. "Yeah. She's fine. But what about you?" She moved back the material of his black shirt and ran her fingers over the deep gashes.
"I can fix that up for you if you want," she offered.
He looked down at his chest, then looked back up, not saying a word.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Buffy said, slipping the heavy duster off her arms.
Buffy pulled out the little that she had and set it at her side. She gripped Spike's shoulders and made him turn to face her.
She slowly unbuttoned the front of his shirt. He didn't move when she needed to take his shirt off, so pulled his arms out of the sleeves as if she was undressing a small child.
When the shirt was removed, she saw that there were many more bruises and faint lacerations on his stomach. His back was the same way.
"God, what happened?" she asked, letting her hand trail over the fading burn mark on his chest.
As usual, no answer.
She grabbed a bottle, poured the liquid on the cloth, and pressed it on his chest.
Spike hissed in pain, his eyes clenched shut and his teeth grinding.
"Sorry."
She wasn't. He wasn't telling her something and it was pissing her off. Just to make a point that she wasn't happy, she poured more on the cloth and pressed hard on his chest.
He managed to glance over at her between gasps. "You did that on purpose."
"Tell me where you went," she said, not looking at him.
He looked away.
Buffy let go of the cloth and gripped his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Listen to me, Spike. I think I deserve to at least know where you went, considering you left right before an apocalypse."
He furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "Apocalypse?"
Buffy let go of him and looked down to pick up her stuff. "Yeah. Willow tried to end the world."
"Red?"
Buffy nodded. "Tara was shot and killed by Warren. It tore Willow apart."
"Glenda's dead?"
She nodded again. "Xander managed to stop her."
"The whelp?"
Buffy looked up. "Yes."
She finished putting the first aid stuff back in the pockets of the duster and slipped the coat over her body.
He looked up and as she stood. "Where you going with that?"
"I'll be back tomorrow," she ignored his question. "You need anything?"
"Blood."
Buffy crinkled her nose. "Okay."
She looked around, now noticing that there was a yellow sign at the end of the hall that said 'stairs' and had a red arrow on it. She huffed. 'Why didn't I see that in the first place?'
"I guess I'll be going." She turned back to look at him before starting to walk down the hall.
Spike watch her longingly until she was just below the stairs.
Then she stopped and turned back around. "And Spike..."
She gestured to the duster.
"... It looks better on me."
And she dashed up the stairs.
END