Longing for the Sun
"So are you Angel again?" Buffy demanded, breaking him out of his reverie and still holding on to her stake. She had to make sure.
He raised his head to her and smiled.
"Yes", he nodded relieved. "My soul is restored".
She let out a relieved sigh herself and lowered her stake, though not quite letting it out of her hand either. She approached him and after giving him a reproachful look, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.
"Thank you, Buffy", he sighed, rubbing his temple.
"Just be glad we got to you, before you got to hurt anyone", she said.
That made him stop rubbing his temple and panicky look outside the window. He turned and looked at her, with fear and shock in his eyes.
"Oh, God, Spike", he said, making her widen her eyes in return.
"What did you do?" she demanded fearfully.
She had to go faster. She had to get there in time. This couldn't be happening, this couldn't happen. Angelus did not get to win. He had taken so much away from her already, he didn't get to take Spike too.
Her breath was running short and her legs gave sharp pulls; she must be running faster than the greatest speed runner. And she had to run even faster. She gave a quick glance behind her, at the rising sun. She had to get there before the morning light, she had to outrun the sunrise, to unchain him from the wall Angelus had left him to burn and take him to safety, away from the sun. She had to run.
He could smell the morning coming. It was close now; maybe a few minutes, maybe even seconds. Soon he'd be nothing more than mere ashes. Angelus had won.
He tugged at his shackles once more, but it was no use. He couldn't break free. He had spent the last hours trying, screaming, growling and snarling, but the chains just wouldn't give out; they weren't meant to, they were constructed to hold creatures as he was. Angelus had won.
He didn't care that he'd die. Well, at least not so much as the fact that Angelus had won. Angel had won. So Buffy would hate him at first, but then at some point they'd figure out a way to bring his soul back and he'd be Angel again. And even though at first Buffy would want nothing to do with him, Spike knew that eventually, without him around, she'd go for him. Angel had won.
He turned his head and saw the light spreading towards him, inching closer with each passing second. He had lost.
"Spike! Spike! SPIKE!" Buffy screamed as she turned the corner of the castle and jumped over the wall standing between her and atrium that Angel had tied Spike and left there to burn.
He wasn't there. She blinked. Then blinked again. The light was blinding her. She was too late.
The scream that erupted from her chest almost tore her throat in two. She fell on her knees, her eyes fixed on the chains on the wall that now held nothing. He had desiccated. Spike had desiccated. He had burned. Again. She couldn't save him. Again. She was too late and he was gone.
When her friends finally managed to catch up to her, she was still starring open mouthed at the empty chains. Her mind was in free fall.
"No", Xander yelled from behind her, his terror adding to her own. "Dear God, please no".
Dawn's scream was almost as loud as her own, but it did nothing to wake her from the shock. She heard her cry and scream behind her, she heard Willow sob and Xander swear, but she couldn't really hear them. She couldn't really feel or understand anything.
Spike was gone.
What if they had managed to restore Angel's soul? It didn't matter. Spike was gone and Angel was the one responsible. She had lost them both. Angelus truly had won.
She sat alone; starring at the sun at it had almost touched the ocean. Soon it would be sunk. It had done enough damage for one day.
She sat at the same beach, she had dreamed her and Angel hugging after she had killed him. She used to wish that he could walk into the sun, hug her and that they could both stare at the sunset together, their toes in the sand, the sea breeze on their faces. She used to love the sun back then. She used to love Angel. She hated them both now.
The day seemed to have flown away. Just like that. Xander had eventually dragged her up from the floor and they had left the castle, to return to L.A. She didn't remember much from the ride back. Dawn was crying, maybe she was too. Willow was stroking her hair and Xander was unusually quiet, as he drove them back. They hadn't collected Angel, but she didn't care. He could find his own way back. She couldn't trust herself to even look at him, without staking him right on the spot.
She knew it wasn't his fault. She knew it was all Angelus to blame and yet…and yet she blamed him too. Why couldn't he control the demon inside him at all? How could he just lose everything that he was, whenever he lost his soul? Why couldn't he be more like…?
She brought the hand up to her mouth, to stifle yet another sob that wanted to make its way outside her throat. She just couldn't cry. If she started crying, really crying, she didn't think she would ever stop. She stared at the sun.
If someone had told that she'd hate the sun, she would have laughed. And yet she wished it would never rise again. If someone had told her once that she would hurt that much over losing him, she'd have laughed. If someone had told her once that her friends would be just as wrecked over his demise, she'd have laugh. If someone had told her once, that her heart would get ripped out from her chest and yet she'd go on living, she'd have laughed. And yet all of the above were happening at once and she was certain that she'd never laugh again in her entire life.
He was the one that always made her laugh, anyway. His words, his expressions, his wit, his insolence. She used to tell him only so often to shut up and now she'd give everything to hear his voice again. Just one more time.
"Hello, cutie".
She closed her eyes and against her will, some rogue tears escaped them. She could hear him so clearly. As if he was there.
"What's a pretty little bird doing all alone at the beach? Someone dangerous could walk on you".
It sounded so real. Her eyes flew open and when she turned her head, she saw him. Had she gone mad? There he was, walking towards her, in his whole badasseness, his feet and chest bare, the sun shining on his face. She was going mad. And yet…
He stopped a few meters away from her and threw his arms open, indicating that the sun was not burning him, the mischievous gleam she knew all too well shining in his eye.
"Sp…Spike?" she asked, terrified that if she broke the silence the magic bubble would burst, but not able to take it any longer. "You're…you're…?"
"A pathetic, helpless human, Slayer", he smirked.
She jumped up and ran to him. She fell into his arms and when he wrapped them around her, she knew. He was real. And he was…human!
"How? How? When…? How?" she asked utterly confused and yet utterly ecstatic.
"It was my gift, Buffy", he whispered in her hair. "Whistler said so. Because I gave up my soul, in order to stop Angelus, the Powers That Be decided I was worthy of this gift".
"Oh, God!" she screamed, tears running down her eyes, as she kissed him deeply and hungrily. "Oh, God, you're alive! And not only you're alive, you're…you're…ALIVE! Oh, God!"
She was laughing and crying simultaneously, as he spun her around, his arms holding her tightly. The last rays of sun were shining on them, making his eyes bigger somehow and there hadn't been a moment in her life so far that she had loved the sun as much.