14
It was like everyone else had done the assigned reading, and she'd only had the cover of the book to guess what the story was about. It'd been one thing with Spike. She knew him. Knew some of his tells when he was too emotional to cover them properly. Knew something bad had happened the moment she'd woken up with no idea how she'd gotten to this place, and no memory. And she'd known in her gut, where something wicked and malicious lay raveled and twisting, and then she'd had confirmation. And she felt like she'd been sucked out into space, where all there was was a vacuum but it was crushing her anyway.
But he'd asked her to focus, and she could do that. Push it all away into an envelope that wasn't to be opened until later, even if things kept cropping up, memories of things she had no recollection of doing, but when she recalled it, there was no denying it. No denying the taste of blood in her mouth, left over but still pungent, a lingering hunger and desire for something that escaped her.
And Spike, Spike was so hurt, his shirt ripped wide open, and a spectacular half-rainbow of assorted blues and purples and greens marred his beautiful alabaster skin, and she had done that to him. She knew it, knew it in her heart or her stomach or her blood.
But they had to get out of here first. Spike was bruised and bloody, but he was still here, unliving, and that was all that mattered. So when their rescuers looked down at them, Jade pushed her guilt away, the uncertainty of whether she deserved to live or not. But Illyria was staring at her, inhuman blue eyes were captious and irate, and even though she was closest, it was Angel who pushed past Illyria and held out his hand for Jade, his eyes meeting hers. And they were the only ones that were understanding and gentle. Faith's weren't hateful, but they weren't forgiving either, so Jade focused on the vampire gratefully, extending her good hand and clasping Angel's.
He pulled her up, Spike's hand on her back to help her up the last stretch, and she felt Angel's other arm wrap around her shoulders to steady her as he put her back on her feet. She moved, allowed herself to be led, as if it was an old dance routine in which she knew all the steps—not that she'd ever been able to dance, with her absolute 'tragic lack of a rhythm' as Spike had put it. But her body moved while her mind was frozen, and Angel released her but stayed near.
Jade focused on Illyria reaching into the hole and pulling up Spike, with Faith steadying Spike as he too, was pulled onto his knees and then rose up to his feet, on ground that was finally even and perfectly horizontal.
"Bloody hell, watch the wrist," Spike muttered, as it was jarred in transport.
"You are injured," Illyria stated flatly, to which Spike scoffed.
"Y'think? Brings back ol' times when you were all for punching m' in the face, doesn't it?"
"Those were… pleasant times," Illyria admitted, then she shifted her gaze and set it on Jade instead. "However, she does not have the same license to do so as I did." And the blue woman stepped forward, closer to Jade, and many things happened at once.
Jade took a step back and inadvertently thudded into Angel's broad shoulder. Angel in turn, scissored around Jade so that he was in front of her instead, and a deep growl fettered from Spike's throat, but his angry blue gaze was centered on his Grand-sire, not Illyria. Faith moved too, the Slayer a blur as she reached out and grabbed Illyria to halt her. Illyria shook off Faith's hold, but the Slayer wasn't deterred, her dark gaze blazing.
"Hey, remember what we said about the whole rescuing gig. That means you don't pummel the rescuees after it's all done with." Faith reminded her, and Illyria glanced at her coldly.
"Charles is dead," Illyria stated. "Is she not the one who murdered him?" Her words were sharp, forceful.
"Yeah, but there's the whole 'but' complex you gotta look out for, Smurfette." Faith retorted. "Now you gotta stop with the hasty and give her some space, alright?"
Illyria set her lips in a thin, aggravated line. "I do not understand," The blue woman said finally. "How can you defend her when she killed Charles?"
"It wasn't her fault, Illyria." Angel spoke gently, softly from where he stood in front of Jade, but Jade had frozen. Killed Gunn? She couldn't remember… but no-one was denying it, and that coldness took over her veins, such a deep, foreboding feeling that she knew they were telling the truth. She'd barely spoken to him, had more words exchanged with Gwen, his girlfriend, than she had him. Gunn was always talking to… Spike instead. They were pals, friends, even. Her body shook, and she glanced over to Spike. How could he forgive her after—
But he wasn't looking at her, his gaze was still focused on Angel, irritation in his gaze, and Jade wasn't exactly sure why.
"Come on, Blue," Faith was saying to Illyria, and Jade hadn't been the only one to notice the exchange of looks between Spike and Angel. "Let's go tell the others rescue operation was a success and they don't have to worry becoming a three course meal anymore." She was brusque and unapologetic, but her eyes as she glanced at Jade weren't hateful, merely wary.
Illyria wasn't so understanding, glaring back at Jade with a lofy glance, but the blue woman relented with a resigned nod and followed after the Slayer. A sudden silence fell then, and with another irritated, blazing glance at the older vampire, Spike shouldered past him and towards Jade. And there he was, in all his glory, where she could actually look at him, without having to worry about the building falling on their heads, but it was probably best to get some distance from it all the same, from how unstable it looked.
I did that? She wondered in her head, still bewildered, and Spike had kept moving towards her, and she was surprised when he wrapped his arm around her again, draped across her shoulders and pulled her nearer to his chest—an action that made him wince—all the while keeping his gaze on Angel, like he was making a point. And she couldn't think on it, not much, because her head was reeling with thoughts she was having now, and thoughts she had had then, and it was so confusing, and she rested her head wearily on Spike's shoulder, not enough will to pull herself free, even if she knew succumbing to his touch was wrong, she couldn't help herself.
"Trying to help, Spike," Angel pointed out, sounding a bit irritated himself. "You need someone on your side."
"Got all the help I need," Spike answered stubbornly.
"Has she started remembering yet?" Angel asked then, ignoring the bleach blonde vampire's obstinacy, and Jade should have been the one to answer, but her tongue felt heavy, and Spike's thumb was stroking her temple, and she felt so buzzed and exhausted at the same time that she didn't feel like she was in her body at all, but out of it, like she was watching a movie and not there in person.
"Comin' back to her now," Spike answered, sounding very far away. "I wan' to take her away for a bit, 'til she can sort it all out."
Angel was shaking his head. "You can't do that, Spike, not right now. A lot of people are angry and hurt, and it'll just make it worse."
"I don't care," Spike growled. "We know what it's like, you an' me. 'M not putting her through that right now, not while she can't protect herself."
"Protect herself?" Angel asked, with a quizzical, challenging look, as if Spike meant physically, like she'd have to fight them off.
"Defend herself, then. Everyone talkin' at her all at once, knowing more then she does. Not bloody fair. Lookin' for someone to blame when she's trying to sort her own head out."
"I know it's not the most comfortable of situations, but running off with her now will not help in the long run, use your head, Spike."
"I am," Spike growled, a guttural sound deep in his throat. "'M not throwing her to the sodding wolves. They won' understand."
"So you'll return in a month or two and hope things have calmed down by then?" Spike wasn't the only one sounding angry, Angel looked frustrated. "That won't fix this."
"Not your call." Spike replied stubbornly. "Not a thing 'bout Jade has to do with you."
"Damnit, Spike, I'm trying to help you."
"Well sodding stuff—"
"Enough," Jade interrupted. Her voice was harsher and louder than she intended, but she was just glad she could speak. It seemed like a lump had been growing in her throat, larger and larger, and she'd been confronted with an amalgam of thoughts and images she didn't remember having, and each was more painful than the next, and she needed to focus on something else. Anything else.
"I'll see them now." She continued, as the two male vampires quieted, looking back at her as if they'd forgotten she was there. Spike's scarred eyebrow shot up with surprise, and he scowled immediately in disapproval.
"You can hardly walk!" He protested.
"I won't run," she said, setting her jaw. "I won't be a coward." And the shoulder next to hers sagged, guilt blossoming in his crystal blue gaze. He'd told her that. When she'd held that shard to her heart. It was hasty now, she knew as much. But knowing that… all the bruises and blood on Spike, that she'd done that, it made her want to vomit. And she didn't think vampires could even throw up. And it would have been nice, slipping away without the full color version of everything she'd done. Ignorance was such a lovely thought. One rapidly slipping from her. "What did I do to them?" She asked in a smaller voice.
Spike and Angel shared a glance, and the larger vampire shrugged, his eyes sympathetic.
"You'll remember soon 'nuf. Sneak preview won't help," Spike answered first. "Come on. Best join up with 'em, then." He tugged Jade into moving again, and they stumbled forward, not the most graceful pair, not now, but with Spike's obvious hostility, it didn't seem like he'd accept any physical help from Angel, not for either of them.
It was still dark out, although the sky was lightening somewhat, and Jade realised she had no idea how much time had passed. She knew it wasn't years, at least. Faith hadn't acquired any new wrinkles, but was it weeks? Months? She had no idea, although she was sure she'd find out soon enough, in excruciating detail.
"Everyone's on the far side of the parking lot," Angel said. "Over there, behind those cars." And behind those cars never had such meaning, because there were cars—or at least pieces of them—everywhere, a tire flopped over on its side, part of a fender, and then a whole fender somewhere else. Spike's arm had slipped from her shoulders, but he still lingered close, stopping each time she hesitated to take a step. She'd done this. She'd done this. She must have. But she just couldn't remember.
She could hear the running engines first, and then see a few figures standing by them, and she jerked to a standstill again, glad she wasn't human so that she didn't have to worry about hyperventilating. But Spike was there, his fingers lightly covering her own. "'S okay, Super girl," his voice was a quiet, comforting murmur, but at least he wasn't rubbing it in her face again, about how this was all a bad idea.
"Spike," Angel's voice sounded harsh, but it was only because it was louder than Spike's calming whisper. "You should probably," he gestured with a hand that didn't point to anything specific at all, looking uncomfortable. "Do that up before we see the others."
Spike frowned, then his face relaxed with comprehension. "Oh, right." He released his hold on Jade to do up both his jeans and his belt buckle, which were undone. Jade touched her fingers to her lips, a nervous gesture to hide her face when Spike nonchalantly fixed his askew pants. She hoped the look on her face wasn't horror, but with wide eyes and a wrinkled brow, it probably came close. Despite herself, she couldn't help but follow his hands with her eyes, drifting past the tightly corded muscle of his abs, the V-shape she could just slightly make out… she tore her gaze away. His shirt was ripped open, his pants were undone, Oh God, what did I do? Her mouth went dry, and she didn't realise that Spike was done until he gave her another gentle nudge to move her along.
She tried to tell herself not to lose her composure before she knew for sure what happened, but she knew how strong she was—well, normally was. She had doubt she could even lift a chair at this point. If she had forced him to—and he was with Buffy. Oh god. And he'd flinched away from her, even just a little bit, when she'd first woken him. What else had she done?
There were only a few of them standing by the cars now. Buffy was there, with Illyria and Faith, and Xander and Gwen were standing there as well, although Gwen wasn't standing so much as she was hunched over. Oh god, Gwen
—Burning pain, a sizzzzzling in my lower back as this wood sinks into my flesh, have to grab it and fuck that hurts, they tried to stake me, but they failed and I'll kill them all, but where is Buffy, she got away, because of Faith stepping in the way, as if it'll make a difference in the end. And where's Spike, why can't I see him in this? I'll get him, they can't stop me. Jump, damn it. Higher than all of them, there he is. He's not fighting, of course he's not, he'd never fight me, I have to get to him, but this stake's still in me, and fuck, it's burning everything, my hands, my—something's coming at me. Crossbow bolt. Missed me, well see if you can dodge this. A gurgling. It's hit, of course it's hit. Sorry Gunn, but don't shoot me if you can't stand a stake to the throat. That's what you get, all of you get for trying to keep me from Spike, from trying to fight me. Screaming his name, are you Gwen? Sorry, it won't bring him back, but I can try to reunite you. Reunite, I must get to Spike—
She couldn't face her. She could see it now. The hard contrast of fire and smoke in the darkness, the exhilaration she felt when she hit her mark, she'd always been subpar at throwing things, it was why she defaulted to the bow and arrow, but she'd dodged the bolt to her and thrown the crossbow bolt instead, and what a fantastic, unexpected shot it had been, and Jade could remember the triumph she had felt then, crashing against the horror she felt now. Knowing she killed Gunn was one blow, remembering every detail of it was quite another. And he wasn't the only one she'd killed, not by a long shot—
"Jade," Spike was barely inches from her, his blue gaze boring into her own. He'd cupped her cheek to draw her attention back up to him, and she bit back a shudder. "Almost there, luv."
"I killed Gunn," she whispered. "I can't face Gwen," she couldn't, couldn't, not after that. So few of the Slayers had broken off to try to make friends with Jade. She was an outsider, she understood that. And Angel's companions, though they were tight among themselves didn't exactly fit in with the Slayers either. And though Gwen reminded Jade of one of the girls from High School, the kind she'd like to talk to and get acknowledgement from, they were never alike enough to be true friends. Still, Gwen had been kind to Jade when Jade was on her deathbed, dying from the deceased who wanted to access her body, and she'd been in love with Gunn, and now…
"Gunn was your friend," Jade continued. Gwen'd sit with her, and Gunn would talk to Spike, and she'd taken him away… "He was your friend, and I—"
"Shh," Spike said. "I'd be a bloody hypocrite to blame you for that. And I don't." He said it with vehemence, in tandem with his thumb stroking her chin. He was being so kind to her, so kind and she didn't deserve it. "Y'can't blame yourself."
But she did, and even as the words passed his lips, she knew he didn't think she'd be able to listen to his words.
"Jade," Buffy called, cutting through all the noises, cutting through the small, small world where it was just Spike anchoring her to the ground, and she felt Spike's feather-light touch leave her jaw so that she could turn to look at Buffy. And the blonde had not escaped the damage, although she seemed far luckier than the most of them, with blood and dirt on her skin but nothing that looked debilitating or broken. "Got your soul back?"
Did Jade answer her? She wasn't sure if the words came, but she nodded numbly. She couldn't hide the soul anyway, not in the dress she was wearing—why was she wearing a dress of all things, and Spike shifted in front of Jade, looking over at Buffy, so that Jade couldn't see his expression but she wished she could.
"You don't need to do this now," Spike was saying, a warning, and Buffy fixed a glower at him, nearly glacial in appearance, an Obviously, I don't need you to tell me that, look.
"She can ride with you and Illyria," Buffy dismissively turned her gaze away from Spike and towards Angel. It was an odd splitting of the group, and Jade was curious, but not nearly enough to ask, as Gwen, Faith and Xander followed Buffy into one of the two remaining vans. Xander was a little slower to disappear into the vehicle, glancing back at Jade with something that might have been sympathy and understanding in his one eye, but she wasn't quite sure.
Gwen however, wasn't so quick to move. She'd noticed Jade now, and her gaze was fixed, even as Faith wrapped one arm around her and tried to move her.
"Come on, G." Faith tried to coax Gwen with her, who hadn't blinked once she'd seen Jade. Her hair, always in slightly messy curls was now akin to a rat's nest, in disarray, and there was blood on her, and her eyes were nearly swollen shut, they were so red, and there were tear marks down her cheek. "Come on, let's get out of the open and whatnot. Don't do this right now," Faith was saying, although Gwen outstretched a few bare fingers a little too close for comfort and the Slayer swung back warily. "Hey now, don't do this, Electro-bug. I'm your friend, and I don't take well to good old ECT, alright?"
"You," Gwen choked out, ignoring the Slayer for a minute. "You killed him!"
"Faith, get her inside the van," Angel ordered cautiously, earning a glare from Faith.
"Trying, Boss," The Slayer said irritably. "Unlike you, my heart doesn't need the defibrillator."
Gwen stepped towards Jade, who didn't move, but Faith clasped Gwen's arm to hold her back, narrowly avoiding those fingers again. "Later," Faith promised. "Now come on, Gwen." Jade didn't get to see if Gwen obeyed or not, because Jade was being pulled away, into the open doors of a van, an arm wrapped tightly around her waist to guide her in, Spike's.
He set her down next to one of the side benches, his leg brushing hers as he sat right next to her, slamming onto the metal grate separating the back of the van from Xander, who was sticking his keys in the ignition and starting up the engine. Angel and Illyria swept to the other side, sitting across from her and Spike. Spike's arm had slid off of her, and she found she missed the feel of it, the comfort it brought her, although she new bitterly that she didn't deserve it.
"Where are we going?" Jade found herself asking in a tired whisper as the van jolted to life, the screech on wheels as it followed after its counterpart vehicle. But Jade could only barely see through the front, and there were no windows in the back, so she glanced around at her companions instead. Illyria's cold blue gaze had not left her, with the rigid posture of someone on their watchful guard.
"One of the back-ups," Angel answered. "In case their Headquarters in San Francisco went down, they have an alternative, not too far away. Smaller, hidden." He glanced at Illyria for confirmation, and the blue woman's gaze didn't falter from Jade as she corroborated.
"The magic the Witch put on it means it can only be found by those know where it is." Illyria answered in a flat tone.
Like Haven, Jade thought to herself, and she didn't want to think of Haven because then
—The bar's empty too? Not empty, but filled with demons and they're no sport because they're not tasty, and where is Lorne? I want to thank him for all the advice he gave me. No, not really. All the times he called me honey and thought I was so well-trained. I liked spending time here, but I was so weak, and now I'm going to burn it to the ground. I can do anything. It's on fire now, and haha, that explosion nearly hit me. Guess that's what happens when you light volatile alcohol on fire. How exciting. And look, all these Haven residents have a peeved look in their eye. Why? Because they're all tame little pets running around so they can feel safe? Well, no-one's safe here. Except for me. I'm going to burn it all to the ground—
"Which is why Droopy Boy is at the wheel," Spike was saying, as Jade exhaled a breath she didn't need. More fire, more smoke. More blood as the demons she'd burned out of Venia came to see who was breaking Haven's rules, exhilarated with the idea of some good old fashioned violence that wouldn't see them persecuted. And Jade had been exhilarated too, all too happy to meet violence with violence, laughing all the way as she fought among them. She shuddered. "He's the good little Shepherd."
"That Slayer, Kennedy, took the Witch and the rest of the Slayers there before you arrived," Illyria informed Angel. "Cowards, in my opinion, running." She raised her gaze upward in an expression that probably replaced the eye-roll. "But Buffy allowed it. And we waited for you to return."
"Thank you, Illyria," Angel responded in gratitude that might have been just a tad exasperated, but it seemed to appease the blue woman, and she fixed her gaze back on Jade.
"Interesting group we got here," Spike mentioned after a few long moments of silence. "There a reason that we consist of non-humans, cept for tasty Driver boy in the front?"
"Hey," Xander complained, from up front. "I'd rather you not call me tasty, thanks."
"Not like that, you ponce," Spike scowled.
"My idea," Angel said quietly, glancing at Jade. "You're both pretty hurt. Nothing to snack on, so we thought it best to have nothing tempting—"
"She's not going to eat anyone, you Poof," Spike snapped. "Not with her soul back."
"She has a taste for it now," Angel reminded him in that same soft undertone. Jade closed her eyes, because she didn't want to see anyone now, not Spike's face as he defended her—and he shouldn't be, not after, after all that. And Illyria's condemning gaze, she couldn't see that either, not even Angel's, the mix of sympathy and understanding in there. Understanding, because he knew what it was like. The two vampires who lost their soul. What a club.
"Don't matter." Spike denied stubbornly. "She's not like you—"
"Spike," Jade interrupted quietly, because she was like Angel. As soon as she'd lost her soul she'd become a sadistic, barbaric monster who had killed for the fun of it. And every impulse she'd acted on, well Jade choked at the thought that she'd thought thoughts such as those. It might have been the other side but it was still the same coin. "I don't think you're supposed to thank people who help you by insulting them." She said it gently, opening her eyes to see him looking back, mildly affronted.
"S'only way I know how," He answered, but there was at least some humor in his tone, so she knew she hadn't made him angry.
"Isn't that the truth," Xander grumbled from in the front, earning a growl from the bleach blonde vampire. Still, Spike let his shoulders fall, releasing tension from them as he leveled his gaze back at Angel.
"'Spose I should thank you," he said grudgingly. "For heading that little rescue party. Although we could have gotten out on our own."
Jade glanced down at her burnt palms, and she could see Angel's gaze flickering at them as well, but the larger vampire only shrugged. He turned to Illyria then, asking her questions about what had gone on while he was absent, and Jade frowned, because she wondered where exactly he meant, but her attention was drawn back to a thumb softly planted on her cheek, and she looked to her left to see Spike gazing back at her.
"How're your hands?" He asked.
"About the same as yours." She answered, because he'd touched the same holy-water soaked chains as her, though his burn wasn't as bad. Over a hundred years of built up tolerance and she found she was jealous. No, she told herself. If holy water and crosses were something that kept her at bay while she had been without a soul, then she wanted all the weaknesses she could have. And her hand self-consciously went up to her throat, feeling along the chains as they settled on the bauble, and she rested her soul in her hand. The smooth surface didn't irritate her skin overmuch, and she found it comforting, even if there was no feel from her soul, no warmth. It was just light.
"How… how did I get my soul back?" She asked, a frown crossing her features. "For that matter, how did I lose it in the first place? I don't remember." There were such large gaps, and she still didn't know how long she'd been out, "And how long was I—"
"Hold on a tick, Super girl," Spike raised his hand for mercy. "It was only 'bout three days. That's all." She was sure it was meant to be comforting, but what she had glimpsed so far… and in only three days… Soulless her didn't waste time. And that was thought with a scoff.
"As how you got and lost your soul," There was a growl inherent in that sentence, and she looked up, alarmed, but his anger didn't seem directed at her. "That'd all be pointing at the same person."
"Who?" She should remember, but she still wasn't sure exactly when she'd lost it, everything was still a little hazy.
"That Mok'Tagar bitch," Spike replied with venom. Even Xander heard him, and Jade saw him shift a little in his seat up front, uneasy. Lyth? It made sense but it didn't at the same time, and she felt her stomach twist into a very tight ball, and she felt sick again. After two years, she'd finally done it. How proud Lyth must have been, to finally win over Jade, and the comprehension that Lyth had also returned it failed to come to mind, and she felt a disgust and anger that had likely become very familiar to her over the last three days.
I'm going to kill her.