Title: Tainted Blood
Author: Corri
Email: Corrielle@yahoo.com
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Up to "Normal Again"
Summary: Set directly following the events of "Normal Again." Spike is sick, and when the gang finally figures out that only Buffy can save him, she has to decide how valuable Spike is to her.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and UPN.
Feedback: Please!
Author's note: This is my first actually FINISHED Buffy Fanfic. It's more of a Buffy/Spike
friendship piece than an actual romance
Chapter 8
The harsh afternoon sunlight was forcing its way through the curtains on Buffy's window when she woke. One glance at the alarm clock sitting on the dresser was all it took to get the slayer out of bed and scrambling down the stairs. On the way down, she nearly collided with Willow, who was more than a little surprised to see Buffy, wild haired and still sleepy-looking, out of bed.
"Work!" Buffy said, by way of explaining her being up. "I'm supposed to be at work! I was supposed to be there at two, and that was," she squinted to see the clock through eyes that weren't quite awake yet, "an hour ago!"
"Hey," Willow murmured, putting a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "Don't worry. I called the Doublemeat Palace for you. I told them you were sick, just like I did for Dawn."
At the mention of her little sister's name, Buffy looked worried all over again.
"Dawn... Is she ok? I didn't see her this morning..."
"She's fine," Willow assured her. "She helped Tara and me last night in the lab, and she came home with me while Tara went to go get you. I told her to go to bed, and called the school so she wouldn't get in trouble."
"Still asleep?" Buffy asked.
"As far as I know, yep, just like you should be!" Buffy numbly allowed herself to be led back upstairs. However, her body seemed to have decided it had had enough rest. So, she curled up in the center of her bed and began to try to fumble her way through to a decision that didn't make her mind or heart recoil at its wrongness.
...............................
"What are you thinking?" Willow asked, several hours later, upon seeing Buffy awake and sitting thoughtfully on her bed.
"I've sunk to berating myself for not being logical, like Giles, compassionate, like Tara, or decisive, like... well, like a decisive person," she said. Willow looked at her a little strangely, but nodded. "I don't think I'm getting anywhere, Will," Buffy said glumly.
"Oh," Willow replied, and looked away. Buffy had known her long enough to recognize Willow's 'I don't want to tell you something so I'll look away' defense.
"What? What happened?" she demanded.
"Tara... she's downstairs. She wants to talk to you."
Buffy sighed, and with a resigned look on her face, brushed past Willow and hurried down the hallway. Tara was sitting, hands folded, on the couch.
"It's not good, is it," Buffy said, half sitting, half throwing herself on the couch next to her.
"N...No," Tara whispered, as if the pained set of her delicate features wasn't enough to let them know how serious the situation was. "I left him... left him alone, because he's not moving any more. He's fading away. Not talking, not doing... anything." She raised her eyes to meet Buffy's. "I don't think he's got much time left." Buffy, in turn, looked at Willow.
"Will, please tell me you've found something," she pleaded. Willow sadly shook her head. Buffy shrunk back even farther into the cushions of the couch.
"I still don't know what I'm going to do," she said in a small voice.
"If you wait much longer, you're not going to have a choice," Tara reminded her. "If you're going to help Spike, it needs to be now."
"Would you do it?" Buffy asked. Both Willow and Tara blinked in surprise at having the question put to them. "If it was your blood that would save him, a vampire who might or might not be useful or deserving of life... but who am I to say whether he's useful or not? Who am I to judge..."
"Spike's done a lot of good," Tara reminded her. "He protected Dawn, no, he protected all of us."
"He's fought a lot of vampires," Willow said, not sounding quite as sure as Tara had.
"And he loves you," Tara continued. "No matter how bad he is at showing it." Willow and Buffy both frowned, neither of them sure if that particular fact should be counted in Spike's favor.
"I don't know... I don't think I could face what it would make me," Buffy said.
"And what is that?" Tara asked gently.
"A traitor?" she tentatively answered.
"To what?" Tara prompted. "You don't answer to the Council anymore, there is no one for you to betray..."
"To myself, to everything I've ever believed in... to save one vampire because I happen to know him personally... where does it stop?"
"He's not just one vampire," said a quiet voice from the bottom of the stairs. The three girls looked up to see Dawn standing there.
"Go back upstairs, Dawn," Buffy told her younger sister. Dawn did nothing of the sort.
"What are you going to do?" she asked instead. Seeing Buffy hesitate, she frowned. "You can't just let him die! Not after... everything!"
"Dawn, there are some things you don't understand..." Buffy started to say.
"Like why you'd let one of your friends die?" Dawn demanded.
"Spike it not my friend..." Buffy protested. Even Willow heard the lie in her voice.
"Fine," Dawn muttered. "He's my friend, though. I'd save him if it was my blood that was the cure." The wheels in the younger Summers' head turned for a few seconds before she glanced cautiously at Willow and Tara. "My blood is Buffy's. Would that... work?"
"NO!" Willow and Buffy shouted at the same time. Abruptly, Buffy jumped up from the couch.
"I need to be alone. I'll be back," she told her startled friends, and ran out the back door. She didn't run far, though. She had done a considerable amount of thinking over the years while sitting on her back porch, and it was as good a place as any to come to a decision about Spike's fate. Unbidden, memories of another night she had found herself sitting on the porch came to mind. She remembered the night that her mother had revealed her illness to her as vividly as if it had happened only minutes ago. She had sat in the exact same spot, and Spike had come to sit beside her. He had come in anger, but the awkward, gentle touch of his hand on her arm had been the most comforting thing in the world.
She tried to envision a world with Spike gone. It seemed somehow diminished, less hopeful. Dawn would be heartbroken, she had the feeling Tara would be disappointed, and she would have to live with the guilt. Though the living Spike had certainly brought her more than her share of pain, dead he would bring even more.
She tried to imagine a future where she let him live. She would most likely end up in the hospital. Again. Dawn would worry, Willow and Tara would hover, and Xander would be furious. She would have let him have the one thing that only Angel had shared with her. Spike would most likely take it as a sign that she really loved him, and make himself even more of a pest. The thought of his supremely annoying behavior brought a smile to her face. It would be strangely comforting to see him back to his old cocky self... It was a hard future, but it seemed so much more right than the other. Then, like the lifting of a veil, the answer became clear. She opened the door and stepped back into the house.
"I'm going over to Spike's," she announced. Tara nodded in agreement. Dawn, who looked happy at first, seemed to finally realize the risk that Buffy would be taking and immediately became more sober.
"You're going to let him do it?" Dawn asked.
"Yeah..." Buffy said softly. Dawn reached out and touched her sister's face, looking deep into Buffy's eyes as if trying to give her strength.
"Don't worry, he'll take care of you once he's better," Dawn told her.
"That's the way it's supposed to work," Buffy agreed.
"Maybe we should..." Willow started to say.
"No. I'll go alone," Buffy forcefully interrupted her. She turned and left the house, cutting across the backyard, taking the shortest route to the cemetery. She only hoped she could get there before it was too late, and before her resolve wavered.
