RESPICIO
By: Bagel
Disclaimer: Song lyrics belong to Eve 6. Joss is god, and I am not.
Notes: The title means "to look back with regard" in Latin. Takes place after "The Gift". If you have not seen the episode, don't read. It'll spoil something major for you ~L~. I just needed to pay homage, I guess. Snippets of dialogue have been taken from various episodes. Too many to list, so…hope you're a good guesser. :p
Dedication: keelan august. Your foray into fanfiction urged me to get back to writing mine. Much love to ya.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Well, we're all here. I guess it's your turn. Everyone gets a turn."
*So denied so I lied
Are you the now or never kind?
In a day and a day love
I'm going to be gone for good again
Are you willing to be had?
Are you cool with just tonight?*
~*~
"Well, anyone want to go first?"
"I will, mate."
"Hey. Always knew I'd go down
fightin'.
I'm counting on you ... to protect her.
Till the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight.
I'll be a minute.
Yeah.
I know you'll never love me….I know that I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man. And that's..."
He hated the bloody bitch. Everything, from the very core of him to the tips of his fingers hummed with negative energy, which could physically go nowhere, but mentally, was wreaking a whole lot of havoc. She pitied him, mocked him, kicked his ass whenever an Everlast wasn't available, and looked down upon him as one might gum stuck to the bottom of their favorite shoe. All that, and he couldn't manage to tear his eyes away from her bedroom window.
He smoked because it kept his hands busy. He stayed because the only thing he had to go back to was bagged blood and a broken television set. He watched her because….. because he was bored. He could leave whenever he damn well pleased. Spike just happened to like this particular tree was all. Plus, with her mum, Joyce, he corrected himself, going off any dying recently, the Slayer was slightly off her game. Better he stay here and make sure no nasties ventured near, especially with the niblet being out-of-sorts as well over this whole Key business.
She'd come out and caught him before. That sudden realization caused him to take a subconscious step backward into the shadows, where she'd be less likely to spot him. Not like he cared what she thought. She'd made it perfectly clear that nothing he did held much value. Guarding kid sis, warning her off the Captain, killing vamps alongside the sodding Scoobies. She seemed to relent, for just a second, after Glory snagged him and beat him within an inch of his…well, that's a bad saying. Sometimes she seemed…less hostile. Like maybe she didn't hate him completely. Maybe that had faded a bit into something more like loathing or simple revulsion. It almost gave him…
He finished one last, long drag on his Marlboro and crushed it under his heel on the grass, where it now kept company with at least a half dozen others. His thoughts had taken him through those and the early morning hours. The light was out in Buffy's bedroom window, and the house was silent, even to his ears. He turned to beat a reluctant trail back toward his own silent abode, for another sleepless day of running their encounters over and over again, searching anywhere for some sort of sign…
"Spike."
He turned, not too quickly, just enough to seem mildly interested. To show her voice didn't faze him.
"Slayer."
"Go home, Spike. We don't need you here."
He tried to hide his expression of disbelief, which really had no right to present itself on his face, all things considered. Reluctantly, and not up for a fight, he bowed his head like the submissive vampire he wasn't, and pulled his duster closer as if ready to walk off.
"We're fine. Thanks."
And she stared at him, only the vaguest flicker of any sort of emotion in her expression, before fading into the emptiness of the house and shutting the door behind her again with a soft click of the lock.
It almost gave him…hope.
*Here's a toast to all those who hear me all to well.
Here's to the night we felt alive.
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry.
Here's to goodbye tomorrow's going to come to soon.*
"All right. Who's next then?"
"Right here. I'm gonna try, anyway."
"It's just, what if I can't cut
it?
Can't cut what? Slaying?
Slaying, everything.
Buffy, I've gone through some fairly dark times in my life, faced some scary
things, among them the kitchen at 'The Fabulous Ladies Night Club.' Let
me tell you something, when it's dark and I'm all alone and I'm scared or
freaked out or whatever, I always think, 'What would Buffy do?' You're my
hero."
They hadn't done this in awhile. He wasn't counting their confrontation over Riley. That was more of a verbal ambush, necessary as it may have been, on his part. No, they hadn't done the friend thing in awhile. Conversation, confession, support. To be perfectly honest with himself, he missed it. A lot. In all fairness, they'd all had a lot on their plates of late. Xander had Anya. Someone who he loved, and who demanded inordinate amounts of his attention and time. Buffy had, past tense intentional, Riley to cuddle and talk with. And then there were the ten million or so other things they were all dealing with, though, granted, some more than others.
Glory the evil Hell-god. Spike and his convoluted actions and intention. Dawn being the key. The sickness of Buffy's mother.
All that aside, all their distractions pushed away for the moment, their responsibilities forgotten for a time, there they were. Buffy, off in the furthest corner of the couch in his apartment, knees drawn to her chest, gaze staring vacantly at the floor. Him, leaning against the wall, eyes firmly fixed upon her, waiting for her to speak.
Funny, he never remembered it being this hard before. The words always came easier. The tears were shed, comfort was given, and both left with, at the very least, a hint of a smile on their respective faces. But now, there was an unspoken rule, an invisible barrier between them. He hesitated to say it was because they'd grown apart. Friends feel that happening, no question, and all he felt was concern. A need, present since Xander first followed Buffy, vampire slayer, out on her first slaying mission in Sunnydale. A need to protect her. To keep the hearts, minds, bodies, and souls of all his friends safe and unmarred. He didn't always succeed, but he would consider it his duty until the day he died.
God, why couldn't he just say something? Crack a joke to make everything better? Give her a hug and a contagious Xander-smile? He knew why. The weight in the room was too heavy for that. To dismiss everything with a simple gesture. The trauma they'd all been forced to deal with in the past few months was a complex web of emotion and turmoil. With all his being, he wished he could fix it all. Wipe that hollow look from her face, restore some fire into those beautiful eyes. All he could do, though, was…
Someone sniffled back a tear, jolting him out of his thoughts. Xander focused his gaze back upon her, only to find her staring right back at him. He uncrossed his arms, pushed off from the wall. Regarded her intently, searching her face for a sign of what she was thinking. As he watched, the first tear, finally, blessedly, made it's way down the side of her face.
"Xander….I'm…I'm scared."
And he was moving. Holding her gently by the elbows and helping Buffy rise to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed. Finally. Someone broke through. She clutched at him, face buried in his sweater. And they stood there. No one spoke. Words, jokes wouldn't fix anything. But letting it out, getting support…those were tools for improvement. He couldn't fix all her problems, or make her pain go away.
All he could do was…..be there.
*Put your name on the line
along with place and time
want to stay, not to go,
I want to ditch the logical.*
~*~
"You up to speaking tonight?"
"Just give me a minute…..Okay, I'm ready."
"Things just, kind of, got clear. I
mean, you've been fighting evil here for three years, and I've helped some, and
now we're supposed to decide what we want to do with our lives. And I just
realized that that's what I want to do. Fight evil, help people. I mean, I-I
think it's worth doing. And I don't think you do it because you have to. It's a
good fight, Buffy, and I want in.
I kind of love you."
A knock on the door. Wow, that was odd. I mean, to most people living in a college dorm, a knock on the door was a fairly common occurrence. However, the residents of this particular room were usually involved in…things…that took them elsewhere, or made most people shy away from their room. That is, to say, dangerous things. The knocking continued suddenly, and Willow realized she'd been poised, hand on he doorknob, to open the door for nearly a minute. Plenty of preparation time, she figured.
"Willow, I'm glad you're home."
"Buffy? Is everything okay?"
Dumb question. Willow would need all her fingers and some of her toes to tic off the issues, problems, and general trouble heaped on Buffy's plate in the past few months. Most recently, and what had seemed to take the heaviest toll, was her brand-new responsibility as a parent to Dawn, following the recent death of their mother. Buffy, she knew, was more than capable of taking care of herself. It's Dawn that was the issue…
"I just…I need some help, Will."
The pleading in the Slayer's eyes was easy to see. Willow stepped aside and lead Buffy into the room, shutting the door behind her. She studied her friend for a moment, noting the weary slumping of her shoulders, the darkness under her eyes, and the dirt on her clothing. Most likely she'd come straight over from patrol. Yet another thing she was responsible for. Willow sighed and raked her fingers through her cropped red hair as she watched Buffy perch delicately on the edge of the bed. After a moment's pause, she moved to join her.
"What can I do, Buff? You know I'm here."
Buffy smiled gratefully and reached over to give her hand a quick squeeze.
"It's Dawn."
Willow stood up quickly, mind already running through a catalog of spells stored in her brain.
"Is she okay? Does Glory have her? Is she.."
"Whoa, Will. She's fine." She paused for a beat. "Well, she's safe anyway. That's really why I'm here."
"Oh. Okay then. We'll just forget about the near spaz I just had, then." Willow sat back down and turned her full attention to her friend's dilemma.
"It's just…we've been having a hard time lately. You know, with my mom being…and Glory. I'm fine. I mean, it hurts, but….I'm the Slayer. I'm supposed to handle pain. It's in the job description. Article 5, Section 2, Subhead C, you know?" she offered up a small smile, meant to reassure. "But Dawn, this has really been hard on her. She can't sleep, I hear her tossing and turning at night. Sometimes she has nightmares. I can't stand to see her like that."
Oh, Buffy. Slayers are supposed to handle pain? You make it sound like just part of the job description. It's not. It's a part of life. A part of life that people share with their friends and family, to deal with and move on from together. You take everything upon yourself. You always have. Protecting us, saving the world, going to high school. No amount of convincing on my part could ever convince you otherwise. It's okay not to be the strongest. You aren't responsible for everyone…but we love you for it.
It hurt Willow to see the torment raging a war inside her best friend's heart. This year had been hard on everyone. Less time had been spent laughing, joking, just hanging out. It seemed everything now was business, for Buffy especially, and it was beginning to show. And yet, still she staunchly refused to admit it, caring only for the welfare of a sister she'd only technically known for 6 months. She wished there was something more she could do for Buffy, but when it came right down to it, all she could do was…
"…so I was hoping maybe you could cast a sleeping spell over Dawn tonight. A good night's rest should do her good. Without the nightmares and the problems and everything else. Could you, Will? We'd really appreciate it."
"It's done, Buffy."
"Oh. Thanks Will!"
The hug lasted for a few seconds, shared between longtime friends. When it was over, Willow urged her friend to go back home and try to get some sleep of her own. Buffy looked at her like he word was some foreign concept she had yet to grasp before thanking her again and wearily walking out the door. The second she heard the lock catch, she closed her eyes and tracked the Slayer home in her mind. Once she was in bed, Willow once again murmured some choice words, smiling faintly as she did. She couldn't take away Buffy's pain, or magically make all her problems go away. That took time, bitch that it was.
All she could do was…be a friend.
*Here's a toast to all those who hear me all to well.
Here's to the night we felt alive.
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry.
Here's to goodbye tomorrow's going to come to soon.*
~*~
"Well, I suppose that would mean it's my turn."
"Go for it."
"I'm sorry.
For what?
We should have stayed. If we had, none of this would have happened.
Don't. What you did ... w-was necessary ... what I've always admired.
Running away?
Being able to place ... your heart ... above all else. I'm so proud of you.
You've come so far. You're everything a Watcher ... everything I could have
hoped for."
"Giles, you know how much I value this, but don't *whack* you think *whack* you're getting a little *whack* old *whack* for this?"
Buffy finished with a roundhouse to the pad in his left hand. She stopped, wiping invisible sweat from her forehead and pretending to be a little winded. It was, he knew as he squatted over, willing the pain from his limbs, a lame attempt to convince him that they'd stopped because she was tired, but he appreciated it all the same.
"While I find your remarks about my increasing age ever-so-humorous, I assure you that I'm perfectly fine and ready to continue." He remarked dryly, mopping the actual sweat from his own forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.
His Slayer flopped in a rather ungraceful manner onto the practice mat, folding her legs underneath her and reaching for the bottle of water she'd stashed in a corner.
"No thanks, Giles. I think I'm all trained out for the day. All work and no rest makes Buffy reeeeaaally tired."
He half-listened to her as he walked about, putting away the equipment and making a mental note to buy another quarterstaff. The new training seemed to be going well. Every morning for about an hour, alternating tai-chi, tae-kwon-do, yoga, judo, and weapons training with any number of other things he managed to come up with. So far, so good.
"…so then I told the monkey, 'no thanks, I already have plenty of crack' and sent him on his merry way."
"Hmmm?" Giles turned to face her, noting the smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"See what happens when you don't pay attention, Giles? You miss out on valuable information about crackmonkeys." She mock-scolded him, complete with a finger point.
"Yes, well…I'll try to pay closer attention next time. Provided, of course, you're talking about anything that remotely holds merit."
She pouted for a second as he sat down on the bench across from her, studying her intently.
"What, Giles? Is my hair doing a funny thing?"
"How are you, Buffy?" he queried, realizing the question came from out of left field.
"I'm just dandy. Everything is merry in the land of Buffonia." She replied, attempting to evade the underlying tone in his question.
"Buffy."
She sighed and sat up a little straighter. "It's hard. Dealing with mom being sick, Dawn learning she's a mystical glowy Key-type thing, Spike, and I use this term with a great amount of distaste, loving me. It's…it's a lot to handle. But it's fine. I'm fine."
"You know, Buffy, we're all here for you. All you ever need to do is say the…"
"I know, Giles. And I appreciate it. Really. But we're good. We're dealing. No lie, the sooner we finish this Glory thing and get my mom well, the easier I'll sleep, but…." She trailed off, asking him to understand.
And he did. 5 years was a long time. He knew her strengths, her weaknesses, her taste, and every single excuse she'd ever given for being late, not wanting to patrol, or "forgetting" to follow orders. Giles knew his Slayer. She was a proud, strong, graceful girl, who'd matured before his eyes seemingly overnight, along with the rest of the "Scooby Gang" whose company he still fondly shared in times of crisis and non. It seemed the longer he "watched", the more he saw. He saw them love, lose, triumph, fail, learn, grow, mature…but what he loved watching most of all….
"Giles, I'm gone. I need to pick Dawn up from school in a couple of hours, and I need to swing by the market for mom, and the mall for me before that. I'll stop by the shop with Dawn around 4, to find out what's the what, okay?"
"Goodbye, Buffy." He watched her stand and leave up the stairs and out the door. So much pressure on her, on all of them. Hardly, it seemed, any time for a relaxing cup of tea, or for a date. Yet they all molded their lives so easily around it, so much so that he didn't mind forgoing that cup of tea for a tome on monsters of the sea, and Xander and Anya didn't mind foregoing quality alone time to pitch in on patrol. This was their life now. Buffy lived in a world of monsters, darkness, research, and prophetic dreams. But she also lived in a world of dating, boys, siblings, and shopping.
And that's what he loved most of all. He loved watching her…live.
*All my time is froze in motion
can't I stay an hour or two or more
don't let me let you go
don't let me let you go*
~*~
"We saved you for last, lil' bit."
"Thanks. I can do this."
"Are you okay? Did she hurt you?
Why do you care?
Because I love you. You're my sister.
No I'm not.
Yes you are. Look, it's blood. It's Summers blood. It's just like mine. It
doesn't matter where you came from, or, or how you got here. You are my sister."
She was dreaming. One of her better ones, if she did say so herself. It involved Josh Hartnett, a beach in the Bahamas, and a campfire. She never wanted to leave…
"Dawn! Dawn, I am so not kidding. Wake up or you'll be late for school."
"Go 'way." She mumbled, rolling over without opening her eyes, trying to salvage remnants of Josh's beautiful eyes.
"Don't make me get mom in here, Dawn. You know what she'll do."
Dawn groaned and reluctantly opened her eyes to find her big sister glaring at her, arms crossed. The threat of being tickled until she couldn't breathe was the only true morning motivator.
"You can leave now. I'm awake."
Buffy gave her a quick once-over to make sure she was serious, and, apparently satisfied, she turned on her heel and blessedly left her younger sibling alone to get ready for another day of high school hell.
After the final bell rang, Dawn was mildly surprised to find Buffy, rather than mom, waiting at the bottom of the stairs to take her home.
"Is mom okay?"
"Fine. Just thought I'd come get you today. We've, well I've, been so busy lately. I was thinking we should go do something. Just you and me."
Dawn blinked. Was Buffy, vampire slayer extraordinaire first-and-foremost actually saying what she thought she was saying?
"Sure." She shrugged, trying to play down how excited she was at the prospect. "We'll make it a sibling afternoon. What do you wanna do?"
"How about the mall? Tried and true for teens and college students alike. Shopping, frappachinos, and boy-watching. Well, for you anyway." Buffy picked up Dawn's bag and started off down the sidewalk. "Let's just drop this off at home first."
She started to follow, but stopped. "Wait Buffy…what about patrol? You know, Slayer-duty? Checking in at the Magic Box. I'm sure there'll be some brand-new monster needing a butt-kicking." Hide your disappointment, hide your disappointment. That's what happens when you have a Slayer for a sister…
"Tell you what? We'll call Giles from a pay phone in the food court and tell him for the next few hours, I'm strictly in big sister mode. I'll patrol later, and any uglies will have to wait until after our pedicures….how's that?" She flashed Dawn a smile and continued walking.
She couldn't help the enormous grin that broke out across her face as she half-ran to keep up with her older sibling. Malling with Buffy. They hadn't done that in ages. The Scoobies had been more serious than usual, dealing with some brand-new big evil that they didn't want her to know about, as usual. Slayer stuff took precedence, and really….she understood. They couldn't have family movie night as often, or experiment with cooking in the kitchen anymore. Most of the conversations they had involved Buffy telling her to do something or bickering over who got the bathroom.
She knew what Buffy did was important. She saved the world, over and over again, night after night. Without the efforts of her and the gang, the apocalypse would have settled over the world many times over. Still, there was a part of her that always wished Buffy was just her sister. A normal person. That's what made these rare moments so special, she supposed. These were the moments with Buffy she valued most…
"Ooh, Dawn! This is adorable! I order you as your older sister and fashion consultant to try it on!" Buffy grabbed her hand and pulled her into a small boutique.
"As if!" She rolled her eyes, but complied. "Fine, but when I come out looking like a doofus, I'm blaming it on you."
So it went for hours, and it turned out to be the best day Dawn had lived in awhile. They didn't buy anything, they didn't save the world. They giggled their way through the latest romantic comedy in the multiplex, got heir toes painted a matching shade of lavender, and jabbered on about nothing at all. Soon, Buffy would take her home and go back into Slayer mode, patrolling and "keeping the town safe for puppies and little babies", but for now, Buffy was being what she liked best…sister first, slayer second.
*Here's a toast to all those who hear me all to well.
Here's to the night we felt alive.
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry.
Here's to goodbye, tomorrow's going to come to soon.*
~*~
"Dawn, listen to me. Listen. I
love you. I will always love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell
Giles ... tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay. And give my love to
my friends. You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each
other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world ... is to
live in it. Be brave. Live. For me."
The other two shook their heads, declining to speak. Enough had been said tonight. Emotions were too ripe as it was. Looking around, they saw a smile on one face, and a tear threatening to run down another. Three months was an eternity, but to them, a fleeting moment. Time was an issue, for all of them. Because even if they had all of the time in the world, it would never be enough to do her justice. And they knew that sharing now would take something away from their meeting tonight. Make it less real. Besides, there would be another time.
"I guess that's it, then. Until next week."
A soft, comforting squeeze of hands, and everyone stood, scraping back chairs in the Summers' dining room. Xander, Anya, Spike, Tara, Willow, Giles, and Dawn picked up their coats from the rack in the hall and walked silently out the front door. The last one out always shut the door behind them…but they never locked it. It was always open when they needed it.
Always.
~*~
*To soon
Here's to the night we felt alive
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry
Here's to goodbye tomorrow's going to come to soon*