Title: Can't, Not Don't
Authour: Cheaza
Email: givemefanficlove@hotmail.com
Rating: R (for language)
Summary: Buffy's house of suffering, solitude and lies is being invaded by the concepts of joy, trust and truth. (B/S)
Spoilers: Begins after "As You Were," also mentions "Hell's Bells" and "Normal Again," "Dead Things" and "Smashed" (ohyeah all th spuffy greatest hits!)
Dedication: to the women who have taught me these lessons- my GG, Joy, Jenna, Trish, and Ronnie.
Disclaimer: Characters owned by Joss Whedon, UPN and Mutant Enemy
Authour's Notes: You know I'm all for the ME philosophy of suffering and no happy endings, cause it's true, life does suck most of the time. But their recent insistence on doing so (now this is based on my knowledge of spoilers) is getting to the point of the characters doing things that are completely against that which they have been defined as. I personally am sick of seeing life beat them down. Life can suck and you can still be happy, Joss. I based this off my own assumptions and view of the show. I think that Buffy DOES love Spike, that that is actually what is being implied. In here I try to work out the stuff that stands between them.
This is also based off some major personal revelations within my own life. If you suffer with the loneliness, the need for suffering and lying to yourself like Buffy does (which I am sure a lot of you do, that's why you feel such a connection to the show) I encourage you to think over the lessons you read about in here. Because it doesn't have to be bad. You can have joy and peace and trust and love, we all deserve to have them.
Pls note that the love scene from Smashed was lifted from Laure Alexander's "Sounds of Silence" an AMAZING fanfic I had to include in here as a tribute to this amazing authour. I hope she doesn't mind. ;o) here's the link: http://www.geocities.com/bsdiaries8/s/soundsofsilence.html
(more notes at the end)
Part One
**Suffering**
I gotta have my suffering
So that I can have my cross . . .
He says will you ever learn
You're just an empty cage girl if you kill the bird
"Crucify," Tori Amos
It wasn't till she got home that it all hit her.
When she had left his crypt it had been late afternoon. She had walked through the cemetery in the slightly chilly spring day, the diffused light hidden by the overcast clouds, feeling so in control and on top of her life, a feeling that had been missing from her since her resurrection. The other nagging emotions where firmly repressed under that almost smug self-righteousness.
She'd gone to the Magick Box then, to watch Anya and Xander bicker over wedding plans and Willow zone out in the corner. Funny how they didn't really seem all that happy. Even Dawn, who was usually filled with teenaged giddiness over some new boy or something, had spent the afternoon sulking in the corner. Buffy hadn't even bothered trying to talk to her.
But they were all doing what was right, right? Willow was abstaining from magic, Xander and Anya were getting married and growing up, Dawn was at least attending school, and Buffy herself had just rid her life of a very detrimental and awful aspect. This was good, how things should be.
Then why did they all look so completely and fully unhappy?
It was more than they looked it, Buffy thought as she looked around at her sister and friends. She knew, so clearly at that moment, that they were all miserable, right down to their very cores.
Yet even then she had managed to suppress it, plaster on a fake smile to be met with other fake smiles and not act like they all desperately wanted a way out.
She had fought the wave of emotion so strongly that when it finally bubbled out of her that night it had shocked her with its presence. It was as if she had convinced herself to forget its presence. Or maybe she knew that if she held out through the whole day the time to mourn her loss would eventually come.
When she had turned her light off that night, and turned over in bed, it had crept over her. She had closed her eyes to sleep, and felt its presence like a dark shadow. One image, and only one image, burned itself into her mind's eye. Spike's face from that afternoon.
The sadness that washed over her then was unchecked and at its full intensity. She felt almost weighed down by it. Yet unlike her usual routine, the tears had not burned then slowly seeped out.
A deep guttural wail had erupted from her lips and she shoved her face into her pillow to quiet it. Her body convulsed with the sobs, as she felt the almost physical pain of Spike being wrenched from her, of their connection being broken.
She had done this. She had broken that connection. She had pushed yet another man she loved from her arms, from her life… but this time, she realized as she curled up in a ball shaking and crying, not from her heart.
Part Two
**Solitude**
Sometimes I think you want me to touch you but how can I when you build the great WALL around you in your eyes I saw a future together you just look away in the distance
"
China," Tori AmosSpike had some how managed to sneak in behind her walls. She never really knew how he did it, just that one day she found him back there with her. No one, not even Angel, had gotten this far.
He had sneaked in there so stealthy that she didn't even notice him there, could not even defend her sacred, forever-alone space.
The first time she really noticed he was there she was able to recognize the glimpses of his ascent into her fortress she had seen previously.
The first time she had let him enter her body must have been when he got a good foot in the door.
She wondered if she loved him even then. She thinks she did.
She thinks that maybe she had loved him for a very long time and that neither of them had any clue.
She shuddered again as her sobs trailed out to quiet crying. She clutched the edge of the sheet to her face, soaking it in tears.
That love was too scary. It did not fit into her destiny, into what she was supposed to be. And how could Spike really love her with no soul? And if he could, why couldn't Angel have loved her without one? And if soulless vampires can feel love and be redeemed, was she wrong in killing them? And what if Spike somehow got his chip out and went bad? She would have to kill him, and one incident of killing someone she loved who'd gone evil in her life was enough. The pain of that moment still stung her, even now.
And for Buffy, loving was the hardest thing of all. She had taken the risk before and been so hurt when she did. They all left her, those who loved her. And life without Spike would be unbearable. If she loved him, he would leave. If she didn't, he would stay and at least she could look at him, be in his presence, instead of loving and losing him. She had learned, over her life, that she was meant to be alone. That this solitude was her lot in life and that she had to work Spike out of there, to build a whole new set of walls even tighter around herself for protection.
And even if Buffy wanted to change this pattern in her life, she didn't think she could. Wasn't all her emotional and mental strength completely taken up with the drudgery of everyday living, of dealing with always, always remembering the sweetness of heaven?
"I can't love you," she had said.
Part Three
**Lies**
one with her hands
open
"Don't Be afraid" she said
"No one will know it -
just you and me"
And when it's over
I'll go back
"The Pool," Tori Amos
The night after Buffy had wept for the loss of Spike, she had awoken the next morning resolved that she could deal with this. The pain of tearing him from her was comforting in its familiarity, in its outside appearance of "doing the right thing." Good Slayer, push him away. She was then firmly cast in the role of the noble, suffering martyr, one she wore often and she felt, became a slayer the most. After all wasn't that what her life had been about so far? Complete and utter suffering? If she accepted this to be her lot in life maybe that would be a sign of maturity. Besides, she was starting to think that all in the adult world were miserable, and that they accepted it because that was just the way the real world was. Shitty.
The shitty things that happened as the weeks passed only proved this more so to Buffy.
The heart shattering pain of Xander and Anya's terminally ended wedding had laid on Buffy heavily, mainly because she had let herself hope, just for a moment, that maybe two people could be happy together, forever. That night, after she had tucked Dawn into bed and retired herself, she had laid awake thinking about how once again, she was given evidence of how hellish this place was.
But once again, a true unguarded emotion had popped up in her. It had been just for a moment, yet was so involuntary and came from so deeply within her that it had scared her. White hot jealously at the thought of her Spike with another woman.
She had leveled it down rapidly, acknowledging that, yes of course, she was jealous, there was after all, the . . . thing she had for Spike. However she had ended it with him and he was moving on to other women. Exactly what she wanted. And even though she couldn't admit it, she felt a comforting pang of pleasure at the feeling of utter hurt ripping through her when she thought of his beautiful naked body pressed up to another woman's besides her.
The conversation she had with him had been awkward. Neither of them seemed to know how to act now that they were both so intimately familiar with each other, now that that connection was there and they were forced not to acknowledge or act on it. She had played the self-suffering martyr role to perfection, bravely yet with the perfect touch of sadness to it. She had to force herself to ignore the way he had looked at her when he had first seen her, the way he had to tear his eyes from her. She ignored it because she knew what he was feeling when he did.
Buffy didn't allow herself to think about or even recognize how again, she had let him know in such a subtle way that she loved him and missed him and needed him. She assumed acknowledging the pain she felt at him with another woman was a furthering into her role as martyr. She wouldn't see it as another way of her telling him, through her own coded language, that she loved him. She didn't let herself think about how she had done this before.
"I can't love you," she had said.
Part Four
**Joy**
Steady as it comes
Right down
to you
I've said it all
So maybe we're Bliss
Of another kind
"Bliss," Tori Amos
His ability to point out exactly what she was doing and why had shown itself again. She had felt almost violated at how he was able to pull out her inner most thoughts and rationalizations and flash them in front of her with a sneer. Her anger over his words to her in her bedroom, while she was being racked with those visions hadn't really settled on her till later that week. She had suddenly remembered his words to her while she was on patrol one night, remembered how they had set her off on her rampage. Trust Spike to fuck with her head when she was most vulnerable! God he was so insufferable! How could she ever love someone who could be such an ass! And how could he love her and treat her like that!
Besides this time he wasn't right.
She did not enjoy suffering! Who would! That was like saying she ENJOYED being the Slayer. Who in their right mind would enjoy have the responsibility of the world's safety on her shoulders! And didn't she wish daily for the happiness of Heaven? How could she enjoy this pain!
Spike was also wrong in another assumption—that she was unaware of her playing the martyr. Of course she was aware! How else could she play it to such perfected heights! But dammit, hadn't being the Slayer given her the right to be glorying in that role? Didn't they go hand in hand? Why should she have to let it go, when she had made it all she was?
She paused on this thought.
Oh my god. He's right.
I do enjoy the suffering.
But how could I not? It's the only emotion I have ever really felt, the one that always ends up being the final result.
She changed the direction of her patrol towards Spike's home.
________________
"So maybe I enjoy the suffering? So what. It's my right. I'm allowed to act whichever way I chose" she had announced this as she walked in, finding him sitting on a tomb, smoking. He had looked up at her rather nonchalantly and picked up the conversation casually.
"You're right Buffy. But if you act any way you have to be able to justify that act. So you tell me why you deserve to enjoy emotional pain."
"I was MADE for suffering, dammit! A Slayer with friends and family is not allowed but I want it anyway. And for that I pay the price!"
"Faith had no friends, no family" he rebutted calmly. "And she suffered just as much as you. That's not good enough of an excuse Buffy"
"It's all I've ever known!"
"Doesn't matter. People break out of all they have ever known and go on to live completely different existences quite frequently. Look at me for example."
Buffy snorted in response to that.
"So, pet, give me another reason."
She stopped now, back turned to him. She only had one reason left, but it was the biggest.
"It keeps me safe." She whispered it so softly, that had he not been of the supernatural bent, he would not have heard it.
"Safe from what, love?" he asked back in a whisper.
"Safe from more suffering."
"Suffering keeps you safe from suffering? 'Fraid your logic's slightly flawed there"
"No. Safe from feeling, and then having that feeling lead to greater suffering. I have a handle on this level of being miserable, but I don't know if I could handle anymore."
"Like the feeling of loving a soulless vampire. Who knows what untold suffering that could lead to?" His voice was gentle, as he kept his distance from her.
"Yeah." She bit the word out, trying so hard not to cry.
"What if I told you that it doesn't have to lead to even more painful suffering? That you could actually be happy?" he said to her still turned back.
The bitter laugh that came from her shocked him. It was an old hardened noise that he hadn't heard from even the angriest most slighted men he had encountered in his 100 plus years on this earth.
"NOTHING will lead me to happiness. There is no such thing."
"Pet, you don't really believe that do you?"
Finally she turned around to face him, her cheeks glistening, her eyes red and slightly swollen.
"All the happiness I might of felt here wasn't real. It all turned out to be a lie in the long run, a form of my own self-delusion. The acceptance of suffering and pain is my own way of owning up to what life is about. It's maturity, it's growing up."
'What a load of shit." He said determinedly looking her right in the eyes.
"Fuck you spike what do you know?"
"Hello! 120 years of being here! I know what life is about! And if I, a supposedly evil, good-for-nothing vampire can recognize happiness and have had my own moments of it, then surely you, Buffy, " his voice softened as he reached a very tentative hand out to her and laid it on her forearm "a truly gifted, strong, beautiful, amazing human girl can feel it too. It's your right pet. Its everyone's right. You've just forgotten how to let yourself be happy."
"Even my most happy moments here wouldn't compare to where I was Spike. They'd all be just a shadow of the all encompassing feeling of it I had there." She spoke to him in a pleading tone, totally honest as she tried to convince him his ideals were strictly that, ideals.
"No, I don't think so, love. I think that you were able to feel them fully up there cause you knew there would be no consequences to your actions, and that your friends and sister wouldn't be there to see you dare being joyous. I think you felt that you didn't have t put on the act of the ever suffering slayer there, so you just let yourself be enveloped in it. And I think it had been so long since you had it was so completely beautiful and fulfilling that heaven was found for you in that moment. Cause you were free, free to be loved and love, to be happy and open—because you had done it, you'd fulfilled your destiny to ultimate degree, you had given your life for it- and you felt that you had the right to be happy."
"What do you mean? You think I didn't go to heaven, that-" she was becoming agitated, though not really angry.
"No pet. What I am trying to say is that you always linked your calling to being a burden, to being this curse. You actually remind me of the reverend and his family." She looked at him inquisitorial. "When I was a boy, we went to this church, and the reverend and his family was always so somber and gloomy looking, and they were always dressed really shabby. One day I asked the son of the clan why this was. He told me that his father believed that because of his calling to be a messenger of God, he must always be somber and heavy with it, like a burden, and that his family could never be joyful or happy, cause their life wasn't their own. That's just like you, pet. You think that cause you're the Slayer, if those around you see you happy, then they will blame you for it, think you're not taking your role seriously, and making light of the things you do. You think that being a Slayer means you have to be miserable, not just being a Slayer with friends and family."
She was about to shoot back at him how wrong he was when it dawned on her that what he was saying was actually true. Had she not thought that herself on countless occasions, that the Slayer must be miserable? Him linking her sadness to her calling and putting it out in front of her was like the windows in her mind all being opened at once and allowing her to see clearly through all of them to the inner part of herself.
Her pause and non-rebuttal told Spike that she had realized he spoke the truth. After a few moments she raised big hazel eyes, still full of tears, up to his.
"But I don't think I could ever really be happy. I don't think I know how." He had smiled at her then, and lightly cupped her satiny, soft cheek in his cool hand.
"Then I can show you."
She almost fell into it at that moment. The feel of his hand, the totally undiluted emotions in his eyes. She almost believed him.
But it passed like it always did. She tore her eyes from him and walked out of his touch. She could feel his heavy disappointment behind her as she walked back to the door.
Yet she paused before she left, not turning to look back at him for she did not trust another glance at those eyes. Rather she asked her question over her shoulder, just her profile showing to him.
"When have you been truly happy Spike?"
There was a long pause, and when he answered, his voice was soft and rough with emotion.
"You know when, Buffy."
This had grabbed her, though she knew what his answer was going to be even before she asked the question. Maybe it was the way he said it that she wasn't prepared for. It seemed like ages since he had last spoken so sweetly and unguarded to her. It drew her back to him suddenly, and she had to see his eyes . . .
No! She screamed internally at herself. You know why this has to be! Just get out of here! She turned back away from him.
"I can't love you," she said.
Part Five
**Trust**
You're right next to me
I think that you can hear me . . .
I can feel the distance getting close.
"China," Tori Amos
She had told him once that she would never trust him, then completely gone against that half an hour later when he had clicked the handcuffs closed, effectively pinning her arms to the headboard. She had batted around the idea of whether she actually trusted Spike or not for a few weeks after that night. She fought the idea that she did because that meant she loved him as well, and if she trusted him, that meant he could stay back there behind her walls. Only someone she trusted unconditionally could be back there, so she could be sure it wouldn't cause her any damage. So far those she had even considered letting into her isolated world, like Angel or Riley, or those she actually had, like her mother or Giles, had still walked away, proving to her that she was meant to be alone.
Plus trusting Spike meant trusting in his love for her and that was something she doubted all the time. She feared that if she didn't, if she believed that he really truly did love her then she would have to acknowledge the love in her for him that she buried so deep. And hiding her love had always been her way.
Yet everything had been shaky since her conversation with him. She was angry with him for a long while for shaking up her resolve of being unhappy, for making her question whether or not she always had to be miserable. That assured fact had made her feel safe, had been familiar and right in her mind, but now that he had picked apart her rationalizing and showed her what she was doing from an outside perspective she felt less sure that it was a good idea. Although she had firmly shut him out that night, by the end of the week what he had said was raiding her psyche like a destructive virus, breaking down all that she thought to be true and replacing it with doubt.
______
It was entirely possible that had she not intercepted him making his way back to his crypt that night that the conversation and revelations that followed would have never happened. But then again, maybe it all was unavoidable. Maybe everything they did was fated to happen.
She saw him walking about 20 feet away and had called out to him before she even processed why she did. He had turned, with that flash of pure pleasure quickly replaced by forced cool indifference that he always wore around her now. He stopped, sat down on one of the benches and she had sat on a tombstone near by. They were silent for a couple of minutes, not looking at one another, as Spike slowly smoked a cigarette.
"Nice night for it," he finally broke the quiet, yet she still refused to look his way, keeping her eyes trained on the sky above them.
"How do you know you love me?" she asked it quickly, because she had always wanted to ask but had never had the courage to do so. However, now she needed some fodder to convince herself that he didn't love her, that she couldn't trust him, because what he thought was love for her was really just a delusion in his demon mind.
"How could I not know?" he countered. "That is the one of the only things I am one hundred percent sure on in this world, that I love you, that I love the Bit, and that that love is the closest to sheer perfection as I'll ever get."
She was quiet with this for a moment, not sure at first how to disassemble it and make it untrue to her. She relied on doubt in the end.
"I seriously doubt that an evil soulless vampire like you could even comprehend the concept of love." She had meant it to hurt; she wanted to hurt him because he had declared his love with such conviction that it made her feel scared and exposed and made her believe him just for a moment.
"I suppose it's easier for you that way." He said, not sounding hurt so much as still convinced that he was in the right.
And he was. It was easier for her to doubt his love. And she already knew all the reasons why. She shifted uncomfortably under his keen observation.
"How do you know you love me?" he countered back, taking her completely by surprise.
"Wha- What?" she stuttered out.
"I know Buffy." His head was down when she finally looked at him, and his tone was not taunting, rather calm and quiet. "I've figured out your coded messages, read the things you're not saying to me. I know that you love me, even if you feel like you can't."
She was silent, debating on how to react. She wanted to lie and say it wasn't true. But she had learned that with him, lies did no good. He could always see through them, especially when it came to her.
"Maybe I can't because I don't trust you." She said as equally quiet as he had spoken, her eyes downcast as well.
"Love and trust go hand in hand, pet. And if you love me, like we both know you do, then you have to trust me as well." His voice took on a slight trace of its usual cocky edge now. "Or is that not how you define love in your twisted way of thinking?"
She took the bait and looked him in the eyes.
"Oh and please, do share, how does the Vampire community define love?" she snapped at him.
"Love is trust, it's sacrifice, it's thinking of the other person before yourself,. Laying awake all night wondering how you can make that person's life better and easier, knowing that you'd gladly give your life for theirs." He stood as he spoke his voice agitated and just on the edge of yelling. She jumped off the tombstone and reared up in front of him.
"And when have you ever done ANY of that for me!" She shouted back.
He looked at her with incredulous eyes, then turned away, hurt hanging around him like a shroud.
"How quickly you want to forget." He murmured.
"What does that mean?" she said, still angry.
"What does that mean!?" he spun around his blue eyes flaming with anger and betrayal. "You and your little friends are always so quick to forget any of the things I have done that were good or unselfish, ways I put myself in danger to help YOU!"
"Spike-" she tried to stop him, but he waved his hand in front of her, cutting her off.
"No, Buffy don't say anything. Because I know why you've forgotten. If you allow yourself to acknowledge me and what I have done then you have to face up to the fact that I truly and honestly am in love with you. That the love I have for you is real and not going away. To take all those actions of mine you, you'd have to loose your doubt, realize that you actually do trust me and that because of this, you're not really alone. Think about it, pet. Think about all the times you've entrusted Dawn's life with me, me above all your long time friends. Think about when you've turned to me for help, and the times where I have put myself on the line for you, with no hope of any reward." He was quiet now, earnest in his speech. He reached out and gently touched her neck. "And think about all the chances I had, to feed from you, to have what I have been denied for so long now, and how I never took a single nip. I'm not telling you this to blow my own horn or anything. I just think I deserve the acknowledgement. Though we both know that if you don't give it to me, I'll still keep on loving you."
"I-"
"Don't say it pet." He smiled very sadly at her. "I know. You can't."
He turned and started to walk away.
"Can't, not don't." he threw over his shoulder as he disappeared into the night.
____
She stood there, watching his retreating figure till it was completely gone, rooted to the spot.
It was true. Of course it was true, everything Spike said to her was true. And again he had pointed out something within that was so blatantly obvious, showed her her own flawed logic and all those who were being dismissed in it.
Now that she was aware of it, she was ashamed of how she had dismissed all that Spike had done for her, for Dawn, for her friends. But she had to block it out, because if she didn't she would have to acknowledge the trust and love that existed there. She would have to acknowledge that he indeed had gotten behind those walls, and that there was no way of building new ones up against him now.
Because each and every one of those selfish, love-driven acts had allowed him to get in there with her. He had told her louder and more truly with his actions than his words that he loved her. And through all those acts she had let him in, even though she could hardly recognize that it had happened.
So it hadn't happened as she originally thought. It hadn't been after he had let him into her body physically. And now that she thought about it, how could have it been? Had she really gotten that far away from what she knew of herself that she would believe that she would allow that much intimacy with someone she didn't trust and love? Especially to the level of passion her and Spike had shared.
To think of all he had done, to think that she just pushed it all out of her memory. When had she become so cruel? How could she ever have justified that level of casualness towards his acts and confessions of love towards her? Was her need to not trust him, to not love him worth this?
She became frantic, desperately trying to remember the things he had done. But they were so hard to find, for they had been so well blocked. She felt tears burning her eyes as she searched her mind and realized none of these things had been given any validation in her mind. Even if she didn't return that love, she should have at least acknowledged the level of it in him. But it was so easy for her to dismiss him, to never trust in any of it because of whom, or more appropriately, what he was.
Yet now, as she tried to think of the words, events, the actions, she could only find bits of them in her brain.
"I'd rather die then see her in that much pain."
"147 days yesterday, 148 today."
"You glow."
Just bits, only audio though. She had forced herself to forget his face when he spoke these things because it was too much, the love in his eyes was too apparent. If she had remembered it and acknowledged it she would have to admit that it was real. Because looking in his eyes when he said these things left no question about its validity.
And the actions, which spoke as loudly as his eyes had at these moments, alluded her too. Him taking care of Dawn and helping her friends even after he thought she was dead and never to be returned. Him allowing Glory to torture him yet never revealing her secret to the hellgod. Her complete willingness to entrust the life of her sister, which to her was the most important thing in the world, to him.
And wasn't a lot of her reasoning behind stopping the sex based relationship with Spike because she didn't want to hurt him, and degrade him any further? That one root seemed the strongest and truest now as all her other self-flagellation like reasons were debunked and whittled away by Spike. Hadn't she wanted him to have better, better than her and her fractured heart could give him? And hadn't she been so desperate to keep him here that she was willing to sacrifice her own love for him?
Why hadn't she ever recorded any of this? She thought inanely. All these things he did for me, the things I have done for me? No where in her diaries had she written, "Today Spike almost died to protect me and Dawn." She was frantic at the thought of all those actions going unrecorded and thusly, being forgotten and swallowed up by time.
Finally able to move again, she walked numbly towards home. She wondered, as she did, whether she would ever be able to convince herself not to trust him again.
_____
When she awoke the next morning, on her walk out of her room to wake up Dawn, she had tripped over a small brown book.
She had recognized it immediately.
It was the little journal that Spike kept, that she had spied, on a few occasions, him furiously scribbling in when she came into his home unexpectedly. He had always secreted it away, and even though she had searched his place for it many times, she had never found it. When she had told him once, in a rare light moment between them, that she wanted to know what he put in there, he had shrugged.
"Some would call it nothing more than bloody awful poetry, pet."
She bent over and picked up the book, wondering why now, of all times, he had decided to let her read it.
She opened the front cover and recognized Spike's rushed writing-
"Buffy—
I too questioned the why and how behind my love for you when it started. I decided to figure it out bit by bit.
And besides, I thought you could use the memories after all."
She flipped to the first page and read.
"I love her when she smiles.
I love her when she chews her bottom lip.
I love her roundhouse kick.
I love her blond curls"
She moved a hand up to shorn hair and sighed, wondering again at her level of denial towards him that she felt it necessary to destroy that in her which he loved so much.
She spent a half an hour reading the book, a large part of it in the same format as that first page. Sometimes the entries were angry, sometimes melancholic, the ones where she was dead, still recorded everyday, were heart breaking in their infinite sadness. Yet through all of them, it was all the things he loved about her. Even after she had died, it was still "I love her " not "I loved her."
She didn't even notice she was crying till she felt tears splashing onto her shaking hand.
"I love her breath on the back of my neck as she sleeps."
"I love her persistence."
"I love the strength that defines her as her."
"I love her when she wrinkles her nose at something I've said that she thinks it funny but refuses to laugh."
"I love her when she's being pig headed and stubborn."
"I love her face when she's asleep, how she looks like a elf strayed out of the woods to lay beside me."
And they were all in there, all the things he had done for her, all the things she had done for him. All of the love they had allowed the other to see, his so much more than her.
He had done it when she could not. He had recorded that love when she was not able to.
The last page had that day's date on it.
"It's not that you can't love me, pet. It's that you can't not love me. If you keep trying to you, all the light will go out of you, the light that is feed by joy, and trust, and truth. And if you keep denying that love to me, you have to deny love from everyone, including Dawn and all your friends. And they deserve better than that. Let them in Buffy. Let me in. All we want from you is to see you living life to its utmost, not trapped in a cage of your own creation."
Part Six
**Truth**
And I wonder if
You can bilocate is that
What I taste
Your supernova juice
You know its true I'm part of you
"Bliss," Tori Amos
Despite what Buffy had convinced herself, her former relationship with Spike hadn't been all about mind numbing sex, violence and guilt. There had been moments during their times together when truth won out. Where he would show her how much he loved her, and she would show him the only way she could, the only way she knew how- by letting him.
Not that she had ever returned any of it, for that would have been too much of an admission. Even the act of letting him was enough, though whenever she did she had to have an excuse for it. That she was too tried, that she was half awake, that he had somehow fried her brain with too many orgasms for her to stop him. Or that she was lying to herself, letting him be this way with her merely to fool herself into feeling love from someone else.
But reading how Spike described it in his journal reminded her that these acts were real, that the truth behind his actions had been pure, unchecked love.
Spike had written about all of them, though there weren't that many to speak of. For it was hard to wear Buffy and her Slayer stamina out enough to get her in the drowsy, hazy state where she allowed it.
He had learned about her willingness to let him do this the first night. After hours and hours of intense sex, she had been drained, exhausted. Like she had fought a whole army of demons that night.
Spike had pushed her then, been forceful and violent, making her snap. The outpouring of emotions from her after had been equally heated, as she told him over and over that she hated him, as she called him every bad name she could think of. He had held her as she did, then had kissed the tears from her soft cheeks.
He had touched her then, and made love to her in a way that was worlds away from the intense brutality of their sex earlier. He had touched her like a priest of Ancient Times would have touched his Goddess, every caress speaking of utter worship and adoration. Her heart had beat double time as he did. She felt so completely cared for at that moment, so enveloped, as she had held onto him with all she was. It had been perfection, and, she realized now as she ran her fingertips across Spike's written account of that night, the closest to Heaven she had gotten since she had come back.
The other times where just as all encompassing, when Spike could no longer hold back his need to grasp her to him, enfold her in his strong arms and pull her small body to him after they had both peaked. One time she had felt dampness on her neck, where his face was buried. She had dismissed it then. Now she knew that those were his tears. In the journal he wrote about how he loved her so much at that moment that he wanted nothing more than to be like that forever, to hold her and love her and be that close to here for all eternity. He spoke of his insane wishes as his face was buried in her neck, that she would no longer be sad, no longer be lonely. That he could one day be the one who could help her see how amazing she really was, and how when she was even slightly happy it filled his world with something he had not seen in over a century—sunlight.
She realized that the truth had been dominate in those moments. That was the only time when she could not, would not, lie to herself about the depth of what existed between them.
It was that truth, that trust, that joy, that love that she had been denying for, well, years now. She had always thought, had always been firm in the idea that she had to do it, that it was the only way to keep herself strong and protected.
But now, she wasn't as sure.
_____
She sat on the living room couch, running her finger gently over the framed photo of her mother. Now, with her whole world shaking and crumbling around her, with all she had thought to be true about herself proving its falsity, it was only her mother's face that she could look at and be assured in.
Joyce Summers had been an amazingly strong woman. Her life had been hard, she had to endure immense disappointments, changes and rejections.
"How where you able to smile through it all Mom?" Buffy wondered aloud.
What gave this woman the strength to face everyday, be it filled with cancer or wondering about your daughter living through the next 24 hours, or knowing that your husband didn't love you – how did she wake up every morning smiling at life?
"Faith."
Buffy turned around to see Tara standing there, smiling at her.
"Pardon?"
"Your mom had faith, Buffy." The witch said, sitting down beside Buffy and putting an arm around her shoulders, looking down at the picture with her. "She always believed that there was a reason to smile, that there was going to be a silver lining. That things weren't really that bad, and that everything would work out in the end. It may sound ridiculous, but eventually, if you believe it enough, it comes true. If you think only positively, if you allow yourself to feel the happiness around you, to not only focus on the negative, you start seeing that amazing things happen all the time."
Buffy raised watery eyes up to Tara and smiles. The other girl smoothed back some of Buffy's hair and smiled back.
"Walk in faith, everyday, and know that that faith is true and real." Tara said. "And you will be able to weather even the most turbulent storms."
Buffy looked at the amazing young woman in front of her, realizing that what she was saying was the key. It was the final piece to the puzzle.
And almost like a flick of a switch it all became clear to Buffy. Everything she had been fighting, all she was trying to deny, all the walls she had build began to fracture and fall, slowly.
"You're incredible, Tara. " Buffy hugged the girl tight. "I love you, you know that right?"
"Yes, Buffy, I do." The girl beamed under the open honesty, then winked at her. "But I'm not the one you should be saying that too now am I?"
Part Seven-
**Absolution**
6:58
Do you know where my Spark is?
Here Here Here
"Spark," Tori Amos.
Though her resolve was strong, Buffy was still more scared than she ever had been when she stood in front of Spike's door. But this time she would not run away. This time she would not deny the truth, the trust or the joy that was within her. She not only owed that to herself, she owed it to her friends, her sister, and most importantly, to the man she loved.
When she entered he was pacing the length of his crypt. He stopped abruptly when he heard her enter and stared at her openly. Not demanding anything, just waiting.
"You know I did cry" she said, meeting his gaze. He looked confused. She was thinking about how he had asked her in the cemetery a few weeks ago, right before her delusions had taken over if she had cried, though not in reference to what she had first thought.
"Not just the night of Anya and Xander's wedding. But that night, after I told you I couldn't love you."
He was still playing it cool, not reacting. She knew he was waiting to see how she was going to play the game this time.
"I don't want to play anymore Spike." She said, walking towards him, nervously fidgeting with her hands.
"How so pet?" he was still cautious, unsure.
But when she raised tear filled hazel eyes to his, he knew that he had actually managed to break through. Finally.
She watched his eyes fill with joy, the sun rising at dawn. She smiled at him and then let her eyes dance around the room.
"I, I don't want things to be the way they always have. I owe you and me and everyone more than that. I owe Mom and Giles more than that. All you've all ever wanted was for me to be happy." She finally looked up at him. "You helped me see that, William."
It was like a warm, golden light filling the room when she spoke. She could feel it filling her up till she was overflowing. This was the sunlight that Spike had written about.
He reached out a hand to her and she took it. They were both mesmerized for a singular moment at the intensity of this simple touch. She could feel the connection between them repairing, and saw spiritual ribbons wrapping around their joined hands, like a Pagan Hand Fasting, bonding them together for all eternity.
She stepped into his arms then and he clutched her to him like he was scared she would float away at any moment.
His chest against her check, his hand stroking her hair, his lips pressed to her forehead, and it was all there suddenly. The joy, the trust, the truth. And instead of being overcome by it, instead of being terrified, she did what her mom would have done. She looked up into the face of the man she loved and smiled, and had faith that the things that were still to be dealt with, that any trouble that lay ahead for them would be taken care of and filtered through this amazing bond between them. One that was strong enough that nothing could break it, not even Buffy and Spike themselves.
"It's still gonna be hard for me." She whispered into him, "I'm still gonna wanna fall back into those old patterns, cause they are all I have known."
He rubbed a soothing hand up and down her back and kissed the top of her head.
"I know, pet. But I'll be with you. I'll keep you in check. You know I will."
She smiled and raised her eyes up to his.
"I love you, pet."
He stroked her cheek, ran a finger over her lips, down her nose. His smile was so utterly filled with contentment, that he glowed as if lit by a summer sun.
She knew at that moment the peace of Heaven that she had been convinced she would never find was once again, blessedly upon her. And she knew, intrinsically, that this time she wasn't going to let it go away.
"I love you too."
Words like violence
Break the silence
Come crashing in,
Into my little world
Painful to me
Pierce right through me
Don't you understand
Oh my little girl
All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here, in my arms
All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here, in my arms
"Enjoy the Silence," Cover of Depeche Mode song by Tori Amos
A/N: I love Tara. :_o(
There will be no sequel, cause I don't know where they would go from here, cause this is as far as I have gotten in my own life. But I'll tell you this much—no matter how shitty things got— they lived happy ever after.
(sticks tongue out at Joss and Marti)