The Keeper of Truth
Chapter 11
Summary: "There's always consequences." Spike is proven right when Willow's spell brings Buffy back, years from where she's supposed to be. He'd be bragging that one up, if Spike of season 2 knew what the hell Buffy was talking about.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: The usual. BTVS is not mine.
Distribution: If you want it, email me.
Feedback: Oh yes please. Dragolyn@hotmail.com
Author's Note: Due to the fact that for some reason, I can't post italics on ff.net, thoughts are put into brackets like .
For Shannon- thanks!
*****
Willow's scream tore through the house, rocking Buffy to the core. "Willow!" she called, jumping to her feet.
"Buffy, wait," Spike said, grabbing her as she rushed towards the scream. "The timeline, pet. If Willow sees you..."
Buffy tore herself free of his restraining grasp. "It's not her! Didn't you hear what she said? This is *my* Willow!"
She paused only a moment at the doorway to the living room, taking in the sight of Willow struggling as the Slayer pushed her down onto the coffee table. Hovering above her, the Slayer stroked her face with her ruined hands, brushing strands of red hair off her forehead. "Soft," she said, her spittle flecking Willow's cheek.
"Oh God," Willow moaned, closing her eyes to the sight of the girl's burns, just inches from her face. "Stop, please stop."
"Get away from her!" Buffy shouted, grabbing Willow's arm and pulling her from under the Slayer. "Spike!"
"I've got her," Spike said, wrapping one arm around the Slayer's waist and lifting her towards the doorway. She didn't fight him, but lolled against his side, streams of laughter pouring from her mouth. Looking over his shoulder, he gave Willow a nod. "I'll take her upstairs. Put her to bed."
"Buffy! You're you!" Willow threw her arms around Buffy's neck, shaking. "But she's... she's..."
"Nuts," Buffy said, patting Willow's back. She met Spike's eyes over Willow's head. "Spike, are you..." She hesitated, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. "Don't... I mean, let's wait on it. On killing. Just until we figure things out."
"Right," he said, stiffening as he glanced down at the Slayer, hoping she hadn't understood. She hung her head over his shoulder, senseless, still laughing. He hoisted her up into his arms and continued out of the room.
"Okay, Will, it's all right now," Buffy said, extricating herself from her friend's arms and sitting on the couch. "It's me."
"Yes! I found you! But..." She darted a look towards the stairs. "Who..."
"A 'me' who's been through more that she could stand." Taking Willow's hand, Buffy tried to get her to focus on something other than the Slayer. "Will. A spell? You brought me back with a spell?"
"Ah... yeah," Willow said, blinking hard, trying to center her thoughts. "A resurrection spell. But things went kind of kablooey. You might've guessed that already."
"No. I didn't guess that. I mean, yeah, kablooey. Something had to have gone wrong for me to be here, alive, in the past. But I never thought of a spell. Why would you..." Her eyes went still and cool. "How could you do that to me?"
"I saved you! Nasty, tormenty, hell dimension ring any bells? I couldn't leave you there to suffer. Especially not after you died to save us all."
"Suffer. Hell." Buffy sunk back into the couch cushion. "You thought I was in hell? And you did a spell to bring me back to life?"
"Yeah. But... well, something happened. The urn broke... and you ended up back here." Her mouth twisting, Willow shot another look towards the stairs. "With Spike, of all people. God, Buffy, what you must've been through... the last two years, all alone..."
"Two years. You know I've been here for two years?"
"Well, yeah. We tracked you, Tara and I. And then Anya... or, Anyanka, actually, we summoned her, and she sent me back here to find you. But we gave you a few years, let you stay here long enough to kill Glory. I didn't want to keep you here that long, but it was the only way I could think of to make sure you stayed alive after the reversal spell."
"Reversal spell... wait a minute. I don't get this. Any of it." She rubbed her neck tiredly, confusion tensing her muscles, and wished that Spike would hurry and come back downstairs. Having his hand to hold wouldn't make the confusion go away, but it would definitely make it easier. Crossing her legs, she told herself that this was Willow, her best friend, and that she should play nice, no matter how upset she felt. So, she tried on a smile that almost met her eyes and said, "Okay, Will. You brought me back, and I'm glad to be alive. But... why are you here?"
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "To bring you back, of course! To fix the timeline. To make everything right again."
Buffy thought, a heaviness growing inside of her. She kept her eyes trained on the stairwell.
Oblivious to Buffy's reaction, Willow continued. "You don't have to worry about the whole 'being dead' thing. You killed Glory here, and that'll stick even after I do the reversal spell. Her death spans dimensions because she's a god. She's above dimensional rules."
"Is that right?" Buffy murmured, standing up. She patted her coat pockets, searching for the train tickets. Overhead, she could hear the thudding sounds of Spike's boots walking upstairs, heading towards the staircase. Looking at her friend, she hesitated. "Willow..."
Willow shifted her eyes, nervously kicking at the coffee table leg. "I... I'm sorry. Everything you've been through for the last two years... it was all because I flubbed the stupid spell. You've been stuck here, all alone, and... and... I'm just really sorry. But... but don't worry, okay? As soon as we do the reversal spell, it'll be like you never died."
"Willow," Buffy repeated, folding her arms over her chest. "Look, it's good to see you. And... and it's okay, alright? I'm not mad at you, not really. Yeah, it was really dumb of you to screw everything up... I mean, my god, look at it outside! And, look at her, at the Slayer! But..." She sighed, and with a soft smile said, "I'm okay. Happy. I haven't been alone, not at all. Spike and I have a life together, in Mexico. And our train home leaves pretty soon, so as soon as we take care of the Slayer, we're heading out."
"Is it time, Buffy?" Spike asked as he came down the stairs, taking them two at a time. "We've got to take care of the nutty one before we go."
"Yeah, I know," she said, holding out her hand to him as he walked into the room and pulling him to her side. "I was just explaining things to Willow."
"But..." Willow gaped at them, blinking with bafflement. "No. You don't understand. We have to do the reversal spell."
"And then what? My whole life here goes poof? No, thanks." Squeezing Spike's hand, she shook her head. "It's not like we're just heading out of town without a care. I know things are bad here, but we can help with that. We... well, we're going to kill the Slayer. It's... it's the right thing to do. There'll be another Slayer then, one who's not insane. She'll take care of the Hellmouth."
"Oh gee, that's just great," Willow said exasperated. "You keep calling the nutcase upstairs the Slayer. But hello! Buffy, you are *still* the Slayer! You have a job to do. A responsibility to the people who love you! What about Xander, Buffy? And what about Giles? Don't they matter to you anymore?"
Turning her face into Spike's arm, Buffy shivered. "Of course they matter. Xander's my friend. And Giles... he's... Giles. But..."
"Lay off her," Spike growled at Willow, wrapping his arm around Buffy. "Fine thing it is, you coming in here all righteous-like when really, this whole thing is your fault."
"How do you...?"
He tapped his ear. "Vampires hear most everything, little witch. Buffy told you she's not leaving, so take your little spell and go home. She's not the Slayer here; she doesn't owe you jack."
Ignoring him, Willow focused on Buffy, her eyes pleading. "Buffy, you will always be the Slayer. It doesn't matter how you live- or with whom. There's no separating your normal parts from your Slayer parts."
Spike rolled his eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about. She's lived like a normal girl for years now, and been happier for it. If you're really her friend, you'll toddle along and leave well enough alone."
"And if you care for her, you'll shut your mouth and let her decide! These are her friends who are dead, Spike. Buffy knows the right thing to do. She's always done what's right, and she always will."
His face hardened. "The right thing to do? Now, that's funny. You, telling me what's right. How right was it, you pulling her out of heaven to come fight your monsters for you? And then when you screw up, you come here and try 'n take away her happiness again." Snorting, he shook his head. "Give us the lecture on righteousness again, witch. Don't think I took notes the first time. Wouldn't want to miss anything, you being such an expert and all."
Willow reddened and glared at him, sputtering, "You... you... Buffy, how can you let him talk to me like that?"
"Shut up," Buffy whispered, looking at the ground and hugging Spike's arm around her.
"I'll talk to you any way I bloody well please. But not for much longer. Buffy and I have a train to catch."
"You really think Buffy was happy in Mexico with you? Like you could really make her forget us! You're nothing but a... a... soulless *thing*!"
Buffy raised her head and in a sudden strike, kicked the coffee table across the room. "I said shut up!"
Spike and Willow stared at her in astonishment. "Buffy," they stuttered in unison, shooting dirty looks at each other.
She glowered back at them, pale and shaken, but strong. "No more fighting. I can't take it. There's too much going on as it is. The last thing we need is you two going at each other like rabid animals. Can you behave like normal people for a minute, and let me think?"
"He is not a p..." Willow dropped her head as Buffy gave her a look of death. "Okay. I won't fight. But Buffy, you have to listen to me. This spell... we have to do it. We just have to. It's simple, and it'll only take a minute. Once it's done, there won't be anything to fight about. You'll be... well, you, and Giles and Xander will be alive, and the world will be good again."
"And what about me?" Spike said, going across the room. He up-righted the overturned coffee table and perched on it. "Where do I fit in with this brave new world of yours?"
"It's nothing new, don't think of it like that. We're not creating anything. This... this...." Willow waved her hand in the air. "This is what's false. It's conjured, it's... nothing."
"Not to us, Will," Buffy said, her voice strained. "To us it's our life. And you know what'll happen if we do the reversal spell. Our life...everything between Spike and I will disappear."
"And you're gonna tell me that's not worth Xander and Giles' lives?"
Buffy walked over to Spike and put her hand on his shoulder. She kept her features deceptively calm, but the tensing of her jaw betrayed her inner struggle. "I am not the Slayer to Spike," she said, looking down at him. "I've been just-Buffy for the last two years. Not the Slayer. I... I never fought, never had to. I had a garden, and I baked cookies. And we shared a bed together, Spike and I. A normal life. Do you have any idea how wonderful that was? How free I felt? I was safe, I was happy... I was so loved. He brought me orchids every night. And wecame back here because there was no other choice, but Spike and I, we always thought... we never imagined... any of this. We planned to be back in the jungle a week from now. Back home. How can you ask me to give this up? To give him up?"
Stunned, Willow said, "I'm... I'm sorry, Buffy. Really, I am. But... you know you have to, right? It's not like there's a real choice here. Xander and Giles are dead. We have to bring them back."
Leaning forward, Spike said, "Oh yeah, because that worked out so well the last time you thought that. 'I'll just bring them back. And hey, while I'm at it, let's bring back everyone! All the dead! It'll be one big, rotting party'!"
"He doesn't need to be a part of this Buffy. This isn't his choice. We could do the spell, and he'd never know the difference. And everything will go back the way it should be."
Jumping to his feet, he threw his vampire face on and growled at her. "Just you try it."
"Spike, don't," Buffy said, softly forceful. She pulled him back to sit on the table. Feeling the fight go out of him, she leveled her gaze at Willow. "I know. What I have to do, it's... I know. But don't expect me to come skipping back with you. And don't take away Spike's choices. This is his life too. Our life, together."
Willow sighed with frustrated doggedness. "It's just Spike. You remember? William the Bloody, he of the Buffy-bot-building fame. The guy who stole your underwear and chained you up in his basement. Two years together, well, that's great, but he's still Spike."
Spike leapt to his feet again, but this time Buffy didn't stop him. She crossed the room to Willow in three quick strides.
Leaning into her friend's face, she said, "Let me tell you something about Spike, Will. He's my mate. We've had two years off bliss together. If I would've known who he really was, back before I died, none of this timeline crap would've ever happened. This is all your fault, Willow, for doing such a dangerous spell to begin with. But this is my fault too, that the timeline became so twisted. If I'd realized that Spike was sincere when we were fighting Glory... all those times he told me he loved me... if I'd only *seen* him then, I would've never taken him away from here when I did. I would've made sure he took care of the things he needed to do, then when it was safe, we could've gone away together. I could've lived the rest of my life happy, with no Slayer stuff to worry about. But I didn't appreciate how important he was. And now it's all over. All of it."
"Buffy," Willow whispered, tears shining in her eyes. "At least you'll be..."
"I'll be alive again, huh? Well, that's just great. Really. Great. But what I'm giving up... love, happiness, normality... Spike... I'd almost rather be dead. You think you can fix everything with a little magic, huh? Well, fix that, Will. Fix that."
With that, Buffy ran out of the room. Willow and Spike stared after her, jarred by the sound of the back door slamming. Covering her face with both hands, Willow sank back into the couch.
Spike stood over her, his shoulders squared, tensed for a battle that didn't come. Slowly he relaxed, hearing Willow's muffled sobs. Pity didn't cross his face, but his eyes softened as they studied the horrified girl. "She'll do it," he said gruffly, his voice cool as he carefully withheld the great amount the words cost him to say. "You know she will."
Snuffling, Willow looked up at him. "She hates me."
He nodded, gaining back some satisfaction in hurting her. "Right now, she does. But it doesn't matter. Buffy... she's a hero. When given the choice and opportunity, she'll always save the day." Raising one eyebrow, he gave Willow a skeptical look. "You can't do this reversal spell without her, right? I won't have you taking her choice away. Bad enough to know what it is she'll choose."
"She's the key to the spell, the focus. Without her, we're all stuck here." She cocked her head to the side, her eyes red-rimmed and speculative. "Spike... you really brought her flowers?"
"Orchids," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Always orchids, every day. They're her favorite, you know. She kept 'em in our bedroom till the sun wilted them. Bloody things stunk like a refuse heap, all sun baked and moldering. But she loved them. Never tossed 'em out until their colors faded entirely. She's stubborn, that way. Doesn't give up on the things she loves. Sticks with them till the very end."
Willow watched him silently for a moment, the air heavy between them. Finally, she said, "You better go check on her. Talk. We'll have to do the spell before morning."
Without a word, Spike left the room, and Willow, all alone, laid back on the couch and closed her eyes. Speaking to the darkness, she said a single word, a wistful prayer on her lips. "Tara."
*****
"I can't do it," Buffy said into the shadows of the back yard trees. She sat on the porch steps, hugging herself in the chilled night air, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands. "I just can't, and that's all there is too it." her inner voice whispered. I have to. Xander, and Giles... and Dawn, too. Right now, she's just some ball of energy, somewhere. But it has to be Spike's choice. He deserves that much. More than that, he deserves so much more. We both do. We deserve so much more than we'll ever have.
Behind her, she heard the squeak of the back door opening, and the heavy sound of Spike's boots walking towards her. "I can't do it," she told him, not looking up.
"But you will," he said, dropping onto the step beside her. "You know it, I know it. Even the witch knows it."
"I will," she admitted, bitterness sharpening her tone. Exhaling heavily, she threw her head back, staring up at the stars. "Just exactly how much does this suck?"
"You tell me, pet."
"On the suckage scale, one to ten, it... well, it breaks the damn scale. I don't want to do this. I want..." She sighed again, and rested her head on his shoulder. "I want to go home."
"If you do the witches' spell, something else'll happen. Something she didn't mention. Don't know if she's realized it or not."
"What?"
His eyes bored into her, probing her. "You'd be back in the proper timeline before your mum died. The hell-bitch is dead; she won't be around to distract. You'd notice your mum's symptoms earlier, press her into going to the doctor. You could save her."
Buffy sat quietly, her mind whirling with doubts, all of which were cut in half by the possibility of saving her mother. she thought. Tears rose in her eyes, overwhelming her.
Spike kept talking, pretending to ignore Buffy's tears, lending her the strength of his words, of his steady arm around her shoulders. "Not that I knew your mum, except if you count the whole axe-hitting encounter. But she did give you life, after all. It seems fitting for you to do the same for her, given the chance. When you look at it like that, it's not even a choice. You'll do the spell and set things right, no bones about it."
"Why?" Buffy asked, the leather of his duster beneath her cheek slick with tears. "Why are you making this easier for me? It's not like this is what's best for you, going back to what you were before I died. You were miserable. And we were hardly even friends, much less..."
"You know why, Buffy. I love you. And there's no choice. If you don't do the spell, we'll go back to the jungle and you'll try to put this whole thing behind you. But it won't happen. You'll think of your friend, of your Watcher, and you'll hate me for being what kept you here." Skimming his hand over her hair, he kissed the top of her head. "You'd always regret not fixing what was broken when you had a chance. And it would drive you mad, it would ruin you. And that would ruin me."
"Spike..."
"You won't be happy there, no matter how badly you want to be. That time is over for you. It was over the second we got off the train in Sunnydale."
"I wish we'd never gotten off that train," Buffy mumbled into his shoulder, her eyes closing on the thought.
"You don't mean that," he said, a bleak smile twisting his mouth. "Now you get to save the day. Be the big hero."
"Yay me." She inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of him. "You know... you smell like home. Like the jungle."
"It's the mud. Sticks to you, no matter how many times you wash."
"No, it's not that. It's... you. You're home." Raising her arms, she drew his head down to rest against hers, forehead to forehead. "You are my home, Spike. And no matter what comes between us, that will always be true."
"The truth doesn't matter if we don't remember it." He stroked his fingers over his face, feathering her with his touch. "It's hardly even the truth, then."
"It will always be the truth," she whispered, catching his hand in hers and holding it against her cheek. She gazed at his through heavy-lidded eyes, and did nothing to hide the tear that dripped down her nose and over his knuckles. "We'll remember somehow. I promise."
He crushed her against him, cutting off all the words they wanted to tell each other, all the false hope they wanted to raise. Their lips met and tangled, bruising and soothing, but most of all, silencing.
*****
"Where's Buffy?" Willow asked when Spike walked into the living room alone.
He flopped into the arm chair across from the couch. "Said there was something she needed to see, before..."
"Oh." She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, rigid with anxiety. Daring a tiny smile, she said, "I've never sat this long around an un-chipped, un-souled vampire without the fightey action going on."
"That right?" He toyed with an unlit cigarette between his fingers "Well, I'm not much into that sort of action as of late."
"How late?" she asked, curious despite herself.
"Two years, give or take some. Ever since Buffy and I headed out of town together."
"Buffy told me you lived in Mexico?"
"Barely. Our house is on the border, almost to Guatemala." With a smirk, he leaned forward. "Enough of the chit-chat. What is it you really want to know?"
She blushed, but met his eyes. "What was it like for Buffy, here, with you?"
"Rough, at first. Buffy... she was pretty confused, what with being back from the dead for no reason we could see."
Willow's blush deepened, but she nodded. "And later?"
"Things were good, witch, good for both of us. Perfect, really. Long, hot nights full of nothing but each other. She loved the jungle, the heat, the animals, the flowers... she grew there, grew into the person she'd of been had the Watcher's Council not come knocking on her door way back when."
Her mouth dropped open slightly as she watched the emotions flicker over his features. "You love her. Really, really love her."
Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back, swallowing his feelings. "Yeah. And somehow, she loves me too."
"She's not going to try to circumvent the spell, is she? Do something to make sure she remembers you? Because she can't. We won't take anything with us, when the spell is complete. And if she even tries... well, I don't know for sure, but I think that if Buffy makes herself remember you, remember that this mistake was made at all... well, that might be enough to break it. Emotions that strong..."
"Grief," Spike whispered in a rumble. "The grief we feel... that'd be enough right there." He let her sit with his words for a moment, wanting to make her nervous, then backed down. "No worries, though. She's not thinking straight enough for anything like that. I don't know where she went, but she said it was private."
*****
The grass of the cemetery squished beneath her shoes as she left Xander's grave and made her way across the rows to where Giles rested. She knew where his grave was without having to search. No one but Giles would want to be that far inside the cemetery, away from the gates, away from the visitors and, most especially, away from the vampires and the noise of slaying. she thought, eyeing the speckled marble marker that lay flush with the grass. A simple square of green stone, engraved with simple words, but it had the power to knock her breath away. Taking a big gulp of air, she struggled to collect herself before greeting him.
"Hi Giles," she said finally over the lump in her throat. Coughing, she knelt in the grass and brushed away the loose dirt that covered his marble marker. "I had to come and see you. It's kind of dumb, I guess. In just an hour or so, I won't remember any of this, if Willow's spell works. But just in case it doesn't... if something goes wrong and I don't get to see you again, I had to come and say... I had to tell you that I'm sorry. This is not how things should've happened. Can't it ever be easy?"
Sniffling, she could almost hear his voice in her head. "Remember last time I asked you that, when Ford died? What did you say? 'The good guys are always stalwart and true, the bad guys are easily distinguished by their pointy horns or black hats, and we always defeat them and save the day. No one ever dies, and everybody lives happily ever after.' I wish that was true, right now more than ever."
"I've messed up so bad, but I'm going to try to make it right. I don't..." she stopped, looking at her hands spread wide on his stone. "I don't want to do this. I want to be selfish and terrible. If I could go home with Spike and pretend I'd never found out about you... about any of this, I'd do it. But... I couldn't forget. So I won't. I'll make it better. Because you deserve that, you and Xander. But..."
She looked down at the etched letters framed between her fingers. Tracing the inscription- Rupert Giles, Treasured Friend, Beloved Watcher- she bowed her head and left her last words unsaid.
Chapter 11
Summary: "There's always consequences." Spike is proven right when Willow's spell brings Buffy back, years from where she's supposed to be. He'd be bragging that one up, if Spike of season 2 knew what the hell Buffy was talking about.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: The usual. BTVS is not mine.
Distribution: If you want it, email me.
Feedback: Oh yes please. Dragolyn@hotmail.com
Author's Note: Due to the fact that for some reason, I can't post italics on ff.net, thoughts are put into brackets like .
For Shannon- thanks!
*****
Willow's scream tore through the house, rocking Buffy to the core. "Willow!" she called, jumping to her feet.
"Buffy, wait," Spike said, grabbing her as she rushed towards the scream. "The timeline, pet. If Willow sees you..."
Buffy tore herself free of his restraining grasp. "It's not her! Didn't you hear what she said? This is *my* Willow!"
She paused only a moment at the doorway to the living room, taking in the sight of Willow struggling as the Slayer pushed her down onto the coffee table. Hovering above her, the Slayer stroked her face with her ruined hands, brushing strands of red hair off her forehead. "Soft," she said, her spittle flecking Willow's cheek.
"Oh God," Willow moaned, closing her eyes to the sight of the girl's burns, just inches from her face. "Stop, please stop."
"Get away from her!" Buffy shouted, grabbing Willow's arm and pulling her from under the Slayer. "Spike!"
"I've got her," Spike said, wrapping one arm around the Slayer's waist and lifting her towards the doorway. She didn't fight him, but lolled against his side, streams of laughter pouring from her mouth. Looking over his shoulder, he gave Willow a nod. "I'll take her upstairs. Put her to bed."
"Buffy! You're you!" Willow threw her arms around Buffy's neck, shaking. "But she's... she's..."
"Nuts," Buffy said, patting Willow's back. She met Spike's eyes over Willow's head. "Spike, are you..." She hesitated, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. "Don't... I mean, let's wait on it. On killing. Just until we figure things out."
"Right," he said, stiffening as he glanced down at the Slayer, hoping she hadn't understood. She hung her head over his shoulder, senseless, still laughing. He hoisted her up into his arms and continued out of the room.
"Okay, Will, it's all right now," Buffy said, extricating herself from her friend's arms and sitting on the couch. "It's me."
"Yes! I found you! But..." She darted a look towards the stairs. "Who..."
"A 'me' who's been through more that she could stand." Taking Willow's hand, Buffy tried to get her to focus on something other than the Slayer. "Will. A spell? You brought me back with a spell?"
"Ah... yeah," Willow said, blinking hard, trying to center her thoughts. "A resurrection spell. But things went kind of kablooey. You might've guessed that already."
"No. I didn't guess that. I mean, yeah, kablooey. Something had to have gone wrong for me to be here, alive, in the past. But I never thought of a spell. Why would you..." Her eyes went still and cool. "How could you do that to me?"
"I saved you! Nasty, tormenty, hell dimension ring any bells? I couldn't leave you there to suffer. Especially not after you died to save us all."
"Suffer. Hell." Buffy sunk back into the couch cushion. "You thought I was in hell? And you did a spell to bring me back to life?"
"Yeah. But... well, something happened. The urn broke... and you ended up back here." Her mouth twisting, Willow shot another look towards the stairs. "With Spike, of all people. God, Buffy, what you must've been through... the last two years, all alone..."
"Two years. You know I've been here for two years?"
"Well, yeah. We tracked you, Tara and I. And then Anya... or, Anyanka, actually, we summoned her, and she sent me back here to find you. But we gave you a few years, let you stay here long enough to kill Glory. I didn't want to keep you here that long, but it was the only way I could think of to make sure you stayed alive after the reversal spell."
"Reversal spell... wait a minute. I don't get this. Any of it." She rubbed her neck tiredly, confusion tensing her muscles, and wished that Spike would hurry and come back downstairs. Having his hand to hold wouldn't make the confusion go away, but it would definitely make it easier. Crossing her legs, she told herself that this was Willow, her best friend, and that she should play nice, no matter how upset she felt. So, she tried on a smile that almost met her eyes and said, "Okay, Will. You brought me back, and I'm glad to be alive. But... why are you here?"
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "To bring you back, of course! To fix the timeline. To make everything right again."
Buffy thought, a heaviness growing inside of her. She kept her eyes trained on the stairwell.
Oblivious to Buffy's reaction, Willow continued. "You don't have to worry about the whole 'being dead' thing. You killed Glory here, and that'll stick even after I do the reversal spell. Her death spans dimensions because she's a god. She's above dimensional rules."
"Is that right?" Buffy murmured, standing up. She patted her coat pockets, searching for the train tickets. Overhead, she could hear the thudding sounds of Spike's boots walking upstairs, heading towards the staircase. Looking at her friend, she hesitated. "Willow..."
Willow shifted her eyes, nervously kicking at the coffee table leg. "I... I'm sorry. Everything you've been through for the last two years... it was all because I flubbed the stupid spell. You've been stuck here, all alone, and... and... I'm just really sorry. But... but don't worry, okay? As soon as we do the reversal spell, it'll be like you never died."
"Willow," Buffy repeated, folding her arms over her chest. "Look, it's good to see you. And... and it's okay, alright? I'm not mad at you, not really. Yeah, it was really dumb of you to screw everything up... I mean, my god, look at it outside! And, look at her, at the Slayer! But..." She sighed, and with a soft smile said, "I'm okay. Happy. I haven't been alone, not at all. Spike and I have a life together, in Mexico. And our train home leaves pretty soon, so as soon as we take care of the Slayer, we're heading out."
"Is it time, Buffy?" Spike asked as he came down the stairs, taking them two at a time. "We've got to take care of the nutty one before we go."
"Yeah, I know," she said, holding out her hand to him as he walked into the room and pulling him to her side. "I was just explaining things to Willow."
"But..." Willow gaped at them, blinking with bafflement. "No. You don't understand. We have to do the reversal spell."
"And then what? My whole life here goes poof? No, thanks." Squeezing Spike's hand, she shook her head. "It's not like we're just heading out of town without a care. I know things are bad here, but we can help with that. We... well, we're going to kill the Slayer. It's... it's the right thing to do. There'll be another Slayer then, one who's not insane. She'll take care of the Hellmouth."
"Oh gee, that's just great," Willow said exasperated. "You keep calling the nutcase upstairs the Slayer. But hello! Buffy, you are *still* the Slayer! You have a job to do. A responsibility to the people who love you! What about Xander, Buffy? And what about Giles? Don't they matter to you anymore?"
Turning her face into Spike's arm, Buffy shivered. "Of course they matter. Xander's my friend. And Giles... he's... Giles. But..."
"Lay off her," Spike growled at Willow, wrapping his arm around Buffy. "Fine thing it is, you coming in here all righteous-like when really, this whole thing is your fault."
"How do you...?"
He tapped his ear. "Vampires hear most everything, little witch. Buffy told you she's not leaving, so take your little spell and go home. She's not the Slayer here; she doesn't owe you jack."
Ignoring him, Willow focused on Buffy, her eyes pleading. "Buffy, you will always be the Slayer. It doesn't matter how you live- or with whom. There's no separating your normal parts from your Slayer parts."
Spike rolled his eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about. She's lived like a normal girl for years now, and been happier for it. If you're really her friend, you'll toddle along and leave well enough alone."
"And if you care for her, you'll shut your mouth and let her decide! These are her friends who are dead, Spike. Buffy knows the right thing to do. She's always done what's right, and she always will."
His face hardened. "The right thing to do? Now, that's funny. You, telling me what's right. How right was it, you pulling her out of heaven to come fight your monsters for you? And then when you screw up, you come here and try 'n take away her happiness again." Snorting, he shook his head. "Give us the lecture on righteousness again, witch. Don't think I took notes the first time. Wouldn't want to miss anything, you being such an expert and all."
Willow reddened and glared at him, sputtering, "You... you... Buffy, how can you let him talk to me like that?"
"Shut up," Buffy whispered, looking at the ground and hugging Spike's arm around her.
"I'll talk to you any way I bloody well please. But not for much longer. Buffy and I have a train to catch."
"You really think Buffy was happy in Mexico with you? Like you could really make her forget us! You're nothing but a... a... soulless *thing*!"
Buffy raised her head and in a sudden strike, kicked the coffee table across the room. "I said shut up!"
Spike and Willow stared at her in astonishment. "Buffy," they stuttered in unison, shooting dirty looks at each other.
She glowered back at them, pale and shaken, but strong. "No more fighting. I can't take it. There's too much going on as it is. The last thing we need is you two going at each other like rabid animals. Can you behave like normal people for a minute, and let me think?"
"He is not a p..." Willow dropped her head as Buffy gave her a look of death. "Okay. I won't fight. But Buffy, you have to listen to me. This spell... we have to do it. We just have to. It's simple, and it'll only take a minute. Once it's done, there won't be anything to fight about. You'll be... well, you, and Giles and Xander will be alive, and the world will be good again."
"And what about me?" Spike said, going across the room. He up-righted the overturned coffee table and perched on it. "Where do I fit in with this brave new world of yours?"
"It's nothing new, don't think of it like that. We're not creating anything. This... this...." Willow waved her hand in the air. "This is what's false. It's conjured, it's... nothing."
"Not to us, Will," Buffy said, her voice strained. "To us it's our life. And you know what'll happen if we do the reversal spell. Our life...everything between Spike and I will disappear."
"And you're gonna tell me that's not worth Xander and Giles' lives?"
Buffy walked over to Spike and put her hand on his shoulder. She kept her features deceptively calm, but the tensing of her jaw betrayed her inner struggle. "I am not the Slayer to Spike," she said, looking down at him. "I've been just-Buffy for the last two years. Not the Slayer. I... I never fought, never had to. I had a garden, and I baked cookies. And we shared a bed together, Spike and I. A normal life. Do you have any idea how wonderful that was? How free I felt? I was safe, I was happy... I was so loved. He brought me orchids every night. And wecame back here because there was no other choice, but Spike and I, we always thought... we never imagined... any of this. We planned to be back in the jungle a week from now. Back home. How can you ask me to give this up? To give him up?"
Stunned, Willow said, "I'm... I'm sorry, Buffy. Really, I am. But... you know you have to, right? It's not like there's a real choice here. Xander and Giles are dead. We have to bring them back."
Leaning forward, Spike said, "Oh yeah, because that worked out so well the last time you thought that. 'I'll just bring them back. And hey, while I'm at it, let's bring back everyone! All the dead! It'll be one big, rotting party'!"
"He doesn't need to be a part of this Buffy. This isn't his choice. We could do the spell, and he'd never know the difference. And everything will go back the way it should be."
Jumping to his feet, he threw his vampire face on and growled at her. "Just you try it."
"Spike, don't," Buffy said, softly forceful. She pulled him back to sit on the table. Feeling the fight go out of him, she leveled her gaze at Willow. "I know. What I have to do, it's... I know. But don't expect me to come skipping back with you. And don't take away Spike's choices. This is his life too. Our life, together."
Willow sighed with frustrated doggedness. "It's just Spike. You remember? William the Bloody, he of the Buffy-bot-building fame. The guy who stole your underwear and chained you up in his basement. Two years together, well, that's great, but he's still Spike."
Spike leapt to his feet again, but this time Buffy didn't stop him. She crossed the room to Willow in three quick strides.
Leaning into her friend's face, she said, "Let me tell you something about Spike, Will. He's my mate. We've had two years off bliss together. If I would've known who he really was, back before I died, none of this timeline crap would've ever happened. This is all your fault, Willow, for doing such a dangerous spell to begin with. But this is my fault too, that the timeline became so twisted. If I'd realized that Spike was sincere when we were fighting Glory... all those times he told me he loved me... if I'd only *seen* him then, I would've never taken him away from here when I did. I would've made sure he took care of the things he needed to do, then when it was safe, we could've gone away together. I could've lived the rest of my life happy, with no Slayer stuff to worry about. But I didn't appreciate how important he was. And now it's all over. All of it."
"Buffy," Willow whispered, tears shining in her eyes. "At least you'll be..."
"I'll be alive again, huh? Well, that's just great. Really. Great. But what I'm giving up... love, happiness, normality... Spike... I'd almost rather be dead. You think you can fix everything with a little magic, huh? Well, fix that, Will. Fix that."
With that, Buffy ran out of the room. Willow and Spike stared after her, jarred by the sound of the back door slamming. Covering her face with both hands, Willow sank back into the couch.
Spike stood over her, his shoulders squared, tensed for a battle that didn't come. Slowly he relaxed, hearing Willow's muffled sobs. Pity didn't cross his face, but his eyes softened as they studied the horrified girl. "She'll do it," he said gruffly, his voice cool as he carefully withheld the great amount the words cost him to say. "You know she will."
Snuffling, Willow looked up at him. "She hates me."
He nodded, gaining back some satisfaction in hurting her. "Right now, she does. But it doesn't matter. Buffy... she's a hero. When given the choice and opportunity, she'll always save the day." Raising one eyebrow, he gave Willow a skeptical look. "You can't do this reversal spell without her, right? I won't have you taking her choice away. Bad enough to know what it is she'll choose."
"She's the key to the spell, the focus. Without her, we're all stuck here." She cocked her head to the side, her eyes red-rimmed and speculative. "Spike... you really brought her flowers?"
"Orchids," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Always orchids, every day. They're her favorite, you know. She kept 'em in our bedroom till the sun wilted them. Bloody things stunk like a refuse heap, all sun baked and moldering. But she loved them. Never tossed 'em out until their colors faded entirely. She's stubborn, that way. Doesn't give up on the things she loves. Sticks with them till the very end."
Willow watched him silently for a moment, the air heavy between them. Finally, she said, "You better go check on her. Talk. We'll have to do the spell before morning."
Without a word, Spike left the room, and Willow, all alone, laid back on the couch and closed her eyes. Speaking to the darkness, she said a single word, a wistful prayer on her lips. "Tara."
*****
"I can't do it," Buffy said into the shadows of the back yard trees. She sat on the porch steps, hugging herself in the chilled night air, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands. "I just can't, and that's all there is too it." her inner voice whispered. I have to. Xander, and Giles... and Dawn, too. Right now, she's just some ball of energy, somewhere. But it has to be Spike's choice. He deserves that much. More than that, he deserves so much more. We both do. We deserve so much more than we'll ever have.
Behind her, she heard the squeak of the back door opening, and the heavy sound of Spike's boots walking towards her. "I can't do it," she told him, not looking up.
"But you will," he said, dropping onto the step beside her. "You know it, I know it. Even the witch knows it."
"I will," she admitted, bitterness sharpening her tone. Exhaling heavily, she threw her head back, staring up at the stars. "Just exactly how much does this suck?"
"You tell me, pet."
"On the suckage scale, one to ten, it... well, it breaks the damn scale. I don't want to do this. I want..." She sighed again, and rested her head on his shoulder. "I want to go home."
"If you do the witches' spell, something else'll happen. Something she didn't mention. Don't know if she's realized it or not."
"What?"
His eyes bored into her, probing her. "You'd be back in the proper timeline before your mum died. The hell-bitch is dead; she won't be around to distract. You'd notice your mum's symptoms earlier, press her into going to the doctor. You could save her."
Buffy sat quietly, her mind whirling with doubts, all of which were cut in half by the possibility of saving her mother. she thought. Tears rose in her eyes, overwhelming her.
Spike kept talking, pretending to ignore Buffy's tears, lending her the strength of his words, of his steady arm around her shoulders. "Not that I knew your mum, except if you count the whole axe-hitting encounter. But she did give you life, after all. It seems fitting for you to do the same for her, given the chance. When you look at it like that, it's not even a choice. You'll do the spell and set things right, no bones about it."
"Why?" Buffy asked, the leather of his duster beneath her cheek slick with tears. "Why are you making this easier for me? It's not like this is what's best for you, going back to what you were before I died. You were miserable. And we were hardly even friends, much less..."
"You know why, Buffy. I love you. And there's no choice. If you don't do the spell, we'll go back to the jungle and you'll try to put this whole thing behind you. But it won't happen. You'll think of your friend, of your Watcher, and you'll hate me for being what kept you here." Skimming his hand over her hair, he kissed the top of her head. "You'd always regret not fixing what was broken when you had a chance. And it would drive you mad, it would ruin you. And that would ruin me."
"Spike..."
"You won't be happy there, no matter how badly you want to be. That time is over for you. It was over the second we got off the train in Sunnydale."
"I wish we'd never gotten off that train," Buffy mumbled into his shoulder, her eyes closing on the thought.
"You don't mean that," he said, a bleak smile twisting his mouth. "Now you get to save the day. Be the big hero."
"Yay me." She inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of him. "You know... you smell like home. Like the jungle."
"It's the mud. Sticks to you, no matter how many times you wash."
"No, it's not that. It's... you. You're home." Raising her arms, she drew his head down to rest against hers, forehead to forehead. "You are my home, Spike. And no matter what comes between us, that will always be true."
"The truth doesn't matter if we don't remember it." He stroked his fingers over his face, feathering her with his touch. "It's hardly even the truth, then."
"It will always be the truth," she whispered, catching his hand in hers and holding it against her cheek. She gazed at his through heavy-lidded eyes, and did nothing to hide the tear that dripped down her nose and over his knuckles. "We'll remember somehow. I promise."
He crushed her against him, cutting off all the words they wanted to tell each other, all the false hope they wanted to raise. Their lips met and tangled, bruising and soothing, but most of all, silencing.
*****
"Where's Buffy?" Willow asked when Spike walked into the living room alone.
He flopped into the arm chair across from the couch. "Said there was something she needed to see, before..."
"Oh." She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, rigid with anxiety. Daring a tiny smile, she said, "I've never sat this long around an un-chipped, un-souled vampire without the fightey action going on."
"That right?" He toyed with an unlit cigarette between his fingers "Well, I'm not much into that sort of action as of late."
"How late?" she asked, curious despite herself.
"Two years, give or take some. Ever since Buffy and I headed out of town together."
"Buffy told me you lived in Mexico?"
"Barely. Our house is on the border, almost to Guatemala." With a smirk, he leaned forward. "Enough of the chit-chat. What is it you really want to know?"
She blushed, but met his eyes. "What was it like for Buffy, here, with you?"
"Rough, at first. Buffy... she was pretty confused, what with being back from the dead for no reason we could see."
Willow's blush deepened, but she nodded. "And later?"
"Things were good, witch, good for both of us. Perfect, really. Long, hot nights full of nothing but each other. She loved the jungle, the heat, the animals, the flowers... she grew there, grew into the person she'd of been had the Watcher's Council not come knocking on her door way back when."
Her mouth dropped open slightly as she watched the emotions flicker over his features. "You love her. Really, really love her."
Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back, swallowing his feelings. "Yeah. And somehow, she loves me too."
"She's not going to try to circumvent the spell, is she? Do something to make sure she remembers you? Because she can't. We won't take anything with us, when the spell is complete. And if she even tries... well, I don't know for sure, but I think that if Buffy makes herself remember you, remember that this mistake was made at all... well, that might be enough to break it. Emotions that strong..."
"Grief," Spike whispered in a rumble. "The grief we feel... that'd be enough right there." He let her sit with his words for a moment, wanting to make her nervous, then backed down. "No worries, though. She's not thinking straight enough for anything like that. I don't know where she went, but she said it was private."
*****
The grass of the cemetery squished beneath her shoes as she left Xander's grave and made her way across the rows to where Giles rested. She knew where his grave was without having to search. No one but Giles would want to be that far inside the cemetery, away from the gates, away from the visitors and, most especially, away from the vampires and the noise of slaying. she thought, eyeing the speckled marble marker that lay flush with the grass. A simple square of green stone, engraved with simple words, but it had the power to knock her breath away. Taking a big gulp of air, she struggled to collect herself before greeting him.
"Hi Giles," she said finally over the lump in her throat. Coughing, she knelt in the grass and brushed away the loose dirt that covered his marble marker. "I had to come and see you. It's kind of dumb, I guess. In just an hour or so, I won't remember any of this, if Willow's spell works. But just in case it doesn't... if something goes wrong and I don't get to see you again, I had to come and say... I had to tell you that I'm sorry. This is not how things should've happened. Can't it ever be easy?"
Sniffling, she could almost hear his voice in her head. "Remember last time I asked you that, when Ford died? What did you say? 'The good guys are always stalwart and true, the bad guys are easily distinguished by their pointy horns or black hats, and we always defeat them and save the day. No one ever dies, and everybody lives happily ever after.' I wish that was true, right now more than ever."
"I've messed up so bad, but I'm going to try to make it right. I don't..." she stopped, looking at her hands spread wide on his stone. "I don't want to do this. I want to be selfish and terrible. If I could go home with Spike and pretend I'd never found out about you... about any of this, I'd do it. But... I couldn't forget. So I won't. I'll make it better. Because you deserve that, you and Xander. But..."
She looked down at the etched letters framed between her fingers. Tracing the inscription- Rupert Giles, Treasured Friend, Beloved Watcher- she bowed her head and left her last words unsaid.