Chasing the Nightmares Away
by Invisible Sun
Disclaimer: Joss and Co. own 'em. Just borrowing.
Spoilers: Post-Grave
Keywords: Angst, S/B, Buffy POV
Rating: R
Summary: Hey, look! I wrote yet another Post-Grave. This one'll be the last. I promise...wait, no, I don't promise...might come up with another someday before the premiere... R/R, please!
Things have been pretty quiet lately. Been that way for five months. There hasn't been many demons around lately. Don't know why. Tara's death is still hard to deal with. None of us want to think about it. It's too much...
But, on a bright note, Willow will be home soon. Yep. Giles called and told me the coven were pleased with her. She's made a full recovery.
But...he also said that she still hasn't had time to fully mourn Tara. So, she's still not herself.
And I suspect she'll never be again. She's had too much happen to her. She's killed two people; almost ended the world. Things like that change people.
And believe me. I know. It's changed me.
And speaking of change, Anya has. Everyone was just waiting for her to return to her vengeance-y ways. But she hasn't. She's still here. She's been helping...whenever we *do* have something evil come our way. She still loves Xander...but she won't allow herself to get too close to him. Not anymore.
And when I think about Anya and all the changes she's made, I can't help but think about Spike.
Spike....
I look at Anya and see that though she's a demon without a soul, she still loves and cares for all of us. It makes me...It makes me wonder if all those times Spike told me he loved me and all those times he saved any of us, protected Dawn... It makes me wonder if those were real. Was he really as complex emotionally as Anya is? All those times I was hurtful, did they really sting as much as I had hoped they did?
But I can't ask him. I can't ask him if it really did hurt because he's not here. Hasn't been for five months. And I can't help but think that he's not coming back. And why should he after...what happened?
You know, I still remember his face. Not the one during the...incident; that one didn't belong to Spike. No, I'm talking about the one after I managed to kick him off. He looked as if he had just witnessed his best friend kill his girlfriend. He was devastated. Broken. But I didn't let myself think about it at the time; I was too angry, betrayed. But that expression on his face...that's forever burned into my mind. I know he never meant for it to go that far.
But now he's gone...
Tonight, Dawn and I have planned to have a relaxing evening of sisterly bonding. No slaying, no demons. Just me and Dawn and a stack of chick flicks.
We had just settled down on the couch with Return to Me when the doorbell rang. We both groaned in sync. I got up to see who it was.
"Clem?" I asked in surprise, "What are you doing here? Did something happen?"
He looked kinda nervous. Jumpy.
"What's wrong?" Dawn asked as she walked up behind me.
"Uh..." Clem shifted from foot to foot, making me nervous. He seemed real hesitant.
"Clem, spill it," I said.
"Spike's back."
"What? When?" Dawn exclaimed, verbalizing the questions I couldn't ask because I was too shocked.
"He showed up earlier tonight....I don't how he made it all the way back...the way he was.... Buffy, I think you should go see him..."
His behavior...his demeanor... There was something about it...
"Clem, is there...something wrong with him?"
He looked anywhere but me.
"Clem."
"I really think you need to go to him. Now."
I nodded, not asking any further, and grabbed my jacket off the coat rack. Dawn reached for hers, too.
"Dawn," I began.
"I'm going with you," she said determinedly.
Clem spoke, "I, uh, really don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" Dawn asked defiantly.
"He's...Spike is...I don't know. But I just don't think you should see him in the state he's in right now."
I took my cue, "Okay, then. Clem, could you stay here with Dawn for a little while?"
He nodded.
"I don't need a babysitter," Dawn complained.
I rolled my eyes, "Dawn, not now, please." I looked back at Clem, "Thanks." And I was out the door.
Something about what Clem told Dawn unnerved me. What state was Spike in? The answers that sprang to mind were crazy lunatic or rampage-y serial killer. Neither were good. I guess I'll find out soon enough.
The darkness was the first thing I noticed when I entered Spike's crypt. When my eyes adjusted to the dark, the second thing I registered was the mess. The place looked like a mini-disaster area. His television lay in a corner, busted after being thrown against the wall, looked like. His furniture all lay on their sides. Broken beer bottles everywhere. But I couldn't see Spike.
Was he gone? Did he take off after Clem came to get me?
I called out his name. And I heard a noise from the corner, hidden behind that sarcophagus. The noise sounded like a cross between a laugh and a sob.
I moved toward him. I don't think anything in the world could have prepared me for what I saw. Spike sat in the corner, as close to the wall as possible. His legs were drawn to his chest. His hair was longer. He was thinner. Extremely. Memories of Spike saying unfed vampires looked like walking skeletons flashed through my mind. He wasn't lying. But that wasn't even the worst. He was covered in wounds. Most of them fresh. I caught a glimpse of glass and I suddenly felt sick when I realized they were self-inflicted. Oh, God...
I moved closer to him, "Spike?" I whispered as I knelt down in front of him.
He didn't look at me. Just stared ahead with glassy eyes, "Nothing's enough. It's never enough. It doesn't matter how hard you try..."
Clem was right. Dawn shouldn't have to see this.
He closed his eyes and when he opened them, tears fell, "I didn't want to do it. I swear. He-he forced me to. I didn't want to kill her..."
I felt the tears roll down my cheeks. I couldn't help thinking he had somehow gotten himself a soul. It was like the gate opened and all these memories and feelings of guilt rushed in. Something about the way he was acting...The things he was saying...
I sat down next to him and pulled him close, hugging him even though he continued to ignore my presence. I kissed the top of his head.
He held his hands out, studying them, "So much blood. So much. I can still feel it running through my fingers, staining. Oh, God."
As his tears came harder, so did mine, "Spike, I'm so sorry."
He continued, "I've hurt everyone I've ever loved. Oh, how I hurt her."
It didn't take me long to realize he was talking about me. And I can't explain it, but, suddenly, seeing him here in so much pain...it brought my feelings to light. I loved him.
And he did this for me. He willingly asked for this, knowing he'd experience all this guilt and grief. I don't know how I knew this. I just did. I wasn't about to question it.
Impulsively, I kissed him. He was still for a moment and then I felt his hands move up to frame my face. He's snapping out of it. I react by putting my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Our kiss deepened.
I broke the kiss to look at him. His eyes held recognition and the familiar adoration for me.
"Buffy?" he whispered softly.
He looked so lost and I felt my heart go out to him. I nodded. He leaned forward and rested his head on my chest, wrapping his arms around my waist. I heard him sob. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him close and comforting him as best I could.
He repeated the words "I'm sorry" over and over. It broke my heart to hear him in so much pain. And all I could do to ease his pain was to hold him.
*****
Later, I moved him to the lower level of his crypt. I was amazed at how quickly Spike had the level restored after Riley and I blew it up. It's still not a hundred percent; a few scorch marks were still visible here and there.
Spike watched in silence as I dressed his cuts. I noticed he avoided eye contact. I scanned his body quickly to make sure I didn't miss any. That accomplished, it was time to move to the next step. Get him some blood.
I was surprised to find fresh blood in the refrigerator, but I decided not to question it. I poured a glass, amazed at how not disgusted I was. I returned to find him exactly where I left him. I took a seat next to him on the bed and held the glass out to him.
He wouldn't take it.
"Spike, you need to eat something."
"I'm not hungry," he mumbled.
"Well, hungry or not, you still to eat something. You're weak."
"I...I can't keep anything down."
"Could you, at least, try, please," I asked. It hurt too much to see him like that.
He nodded reluctantly and took the glass from my hand. He took slow sips. I found my fingers running through his hair.
He visibly flinched, "How can you touch me, much less look at me, after...after what I did to you?"
"Spike-"
He was suddenly upset, standing up. But he moved too quickly and he swayed. I was to my feet in an instant, steadying him. But he pulled away.
"Buffy, I-I tried to rape you," he choked.
"Yes. *Tried* to," I said, "But you didn't."
"Because you stopped me."
I stepped closer to him and took his hands in mine, "Spike, please, I'm more than willing to forgive and forget."
"But I can't," he whispered desperately. "Buffy, I lost it. I can't take the chance that I might hurt you again. Or Dawn."
"It's my fault as much as it was yours."
He tried to interrupt but I stopped him with a finger to his lips.
"Yes, it is. I drove you to it. I played with your emotions. Hurt you. And I wouldn't admit how I really felt about you."
"Buffy-"
I returned my finger to his lips, "I love you, Spike. I think I have for a long time. But I couldn't admit it to myself, much less you."
There was a time when he would have been ecstatic to hear those words. But, now, he looked so deflated. "How can you love a monster like me?" he whispered.
I rested my forehead against his, "Spike, I haven't thought of you as a monster in a long time. I know I called you that, but I was trying to push you away. You're not a monster," I concluded those words with a brush of my lips against his.
He took the chance to deepen it. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he moved his arms to settle around my waist. This kiss was different from all the others we shared. This one was sweet. Tender. Full of love on both sides.
When we pulled apart, I looked at him. "You need to go to sleep. You're bound to be exhausted."
"Can't. Nightmares," he explained.
I wasn't surprised. Of course, he'd have nightmares.
"Don't worry," I said, "I'll chase them away."
The End
