Chapter 8
Buffy waited until after dawn before she stumbled home. She honestly didn't think that she would be capable of slaying. She still felt boneless and tired, languid. She just wanted to go home and rest.
Nobody met her at the door, everybody was still in bed or at their own homes. She stumbled upstairs and collapsed, dead to the world by the time she hit her bed.
***
Buffy woke with a start later that afternoon. She could hear people moving around the house, hushed voices downstairs. She reached over for Spike before she remembered that he was gone. Gone from her bed, gone from her town, maybe even gone from her life.
Suddenly she was angry. Not just angry, but absolutely furious, enraged at the injustice of it all. And whose fault was it? Who kept her Spike away from her? Quentin Travers.
Buffy was seeing red, but still managed to change her clothes. She ran downstairs, and noticed everybody in the living room.
"Is Travers still at your place?" She asked Giles, her tone not revealing her anger. But her body language did.
"Y-yes," Giles answered hesitantly.
"Good."
Then she was gone and the group were left to stare at each other.
"Does anybody else thing Travers won't live to see another sunset?" Xander asked in a quiet voice.
"Dear Lord, maybe if we drive we can beat her there."
But they had underestimated the furious Slayer's speed. She reached Giles' apartment if half the time it normally took and didn't even use the key to unlock the door. She kicked it open and without pausing marched to the couch, picked Travers up by his throat, and slammed him against the wall.
"Ms. Summers," he gasped nervously, "what's wrong."
She tightened her hold temporarily then dropped him on the floor. "You know damned well what's wrong you piece of shit." Her voice was calm, but ice dripped from her words.
"I'm sick and fucking tired of your bloody games, Travers." She grabbed the hair on top of his head, and slammed it against the wall. "Very sick of them. I'm going to ask you questions and you're going to answer them."
She let go of his hair and stood above him with her arms crossed, "Or you may find that I've changed my "no killing humans" code."
Quentin Travers decided, wisely, not to call her bluff. He licked his lips nervously, "Whatever you want to know Ms. Summers."
She grabbed his shoulders and threw him across the room to the couch. She was barely keeping her rage in check. Her fists itched to pound him into a bloody pulp, pound him until that smug smirk was erased from his face for good. But she still held some control over herself, even with the waves of anger that crashed around her head. Even with the red spots dancing in front of her eyes.
"Why is he so important."
"Spike?"
Buffy nodded slightly.
Well, the time had finally arrived to tell them the truth. Quentin knew that there was no reason to keep it concealed and he could tell that if he upset her anymore she would lose whatever thin thread of control she had left.
"You aren't so special."
"What?"
"Many, many slayers take vampire lovers. We do our absolute best to discourage this practice however."
Buffy's eyes widened and she silently waited for him to continue.
"We discourage it because, inevitably, they die for their love. But more important than that, we fear what might happen if things go to far."
"Die for their love?"
"Ms. Summers, the other slayers didn't have their lovers on leashes, thanks to souls and chips. Those vampires would try to stop feeding, but they would snap. When that happened the slayer would have to make the choice between duty and love. There would be a fight, and half the time, the slayer would die. The other half the slayer would be too devastated to continue and would give up shortly thereafter.
"It was too much a risk to encourage this type of behavior."
"And what might happen if things go too far?"
"This."
"What do you mean?"
"We feared that a slayer and who vampire lover would force Lilith's return. We feared what would happen."
Buffy's control snapped. She wanted to bash his head in for everything he had put her through. Wanted to kill him for making her feel guilty over Angel, making her push Spike away for so long. She couldn't stay in the same room and wait for the rest of his explanations. The explanations that were too late anyway.
With a primal scream of hatred and pain she fled from the house, running down the street like a wild beast was hot on her heals, pounding down the pavement. She finally collapsed near a street lamp, leaning against it, sobs wracking her body. Nearly hysterical, she cried for Angel, and Spike, and all her sisters before her who had lost somebody precious to them. She cried for the injustice of it all. She cried because she wanted to be normal. She cried because there was a purple demon lurking inside of her and she could feel it striving to own her, possess her.
She cried because she couldn't trust anybody. She cried because her lover was gone. She cried because Angel had to die. She cried because Tara was dead. She cried for every bit of pain ever inflicted on her. She cried until there were no tears left in her eyes and no air left in her lungs.
That's how her friends found her, staring blankly with glassy eyes, into a past full of lies and future bereft of hope.
****
Spike was forced to pull the car over again, this time because large red tears were blurring his vision. His Buffy was in so much pain. More pain that he had even thought possible for a girl to be in and survive.
He clutched his head and howled, closing his eyes against the red staining his hands and his clothes. What was happening to his strong Slayer?
He fought every urge to turn the car around and go back to her. He wouldn't do her any good there, and he almost reached his destination anyway. He was too far to turn back now. Answers were minutes away if he could ever start driving again.
Finally the pain subsided and he felt..nothing. Nothing from her at all. She wasn't asleep, she was just empty. This scared him more than blood tears could ever and was gripped in fear and uncertainty. He wanted to go to her so badly, wanted to make her feel something. He couldn't even imagine the dull, horrid life that would await all of them is Buffy lost the ability to feel again. He had been down that road and he never wanted to go there again.
As soon as he could see clearly he started forward. Within 30 minutes, he was standing in the shade of late afternoon outside a small, tidy, discreet house. He knocked on the door and waited patiently.
Finally an old woman opened the door and dazzled Spike with her bright and welcoming smile.
"William!" She exclaimed happily, "So fortunate to see you again. Where have you been?"
Spike smiled shyly at the woman. She always at the affect on him. "I've been around mum."
"Come in, come in my dear child. I imagine you are here about your Buffy."
Spike was startled. "How do you know?"
"William, dear, there isn't much I don't know."
Spike took a minute to smirk at the thought of old woman calling him dear and child. Spike, a Master Vampire, meekly allowing himself to be led into a large, old-fashioned parlor. Spike, the Big Bad, gratefully accepting a cup of tea, in a fragile saucer. Spike, the Slayer's lap dog, looking desperately for something to save them.
"Can you tell me what's wrong with her, mum?"
The old seer smiled comfortably at him, "Do you feel her pain, William?"
He nodded, miserably. "I can't feel anything from her now."
"She needs your help."
"How? I'll do anything."
"She was never supposed to take all of Lilith. She needed you to take half of the demon from her. She can't hold it."
"What'll happen?"
"Can you feel her?"
Spike's voice was barely above a whisper, "No."
"The demon isn't taking over her soul, it's still as strong as ever, she won't lose it. However, the demon and her soul are canceling each other out."
"Is that why she's felt everything so violently the past 12 hours?"
"Yes, her soul is struggling to hold on, but it's losing. Soon she will be automaton, only good for fighting, and only because her Slayer spirit is not being affected by what is going on inside of her."
"What can I do to fix this?"
"You need to take the demon away."
"How?"
"It's always about the blood William. You need to drink her almost to the point of bleeding her."
"But I can't do that without a soul of my own, can I mum?"
"No."
"How do I get it back?"
The old woman smiled sadly, "I don't know William. I don't know."
Spike stared at her, unable to move or speak. Finally pulling himself together, he excused himself, and went out to his car. There was nothing left for her to tell him.
Buffy waited until after dawn before she stumbled home. She honestly didn't think that she would be capable of slaying. She still felt boneless and tired, languid. She just wanted to go home and rest.
Nobody met her at the door, everybody was still in bed or at their own homes. She stumbled upstairs and collapsed, dead to the world by the time she hit her bed.
***
Buffy woke with a start later that afternoon. She could hear people moving around the house, hushed voices downstairs. She reached over for Spike before she remembered that he was gone. Gone from her bed, gone from her town, maybe even gone from her life.
Suddenly she was angry. Not just angry, but absolutely furious, enraged at the injustice of it all. And whose fault was it? Who kept her Spike away from her? Quentin Travers.
Buffy was seeing red, but still managed to change her clothes. She ran downstairs, and noticed everybody in the living room.
"Is Travers still at your place?" She asked Giles, her tone not revealing her anger. But her body language did.
"Y-yes," Giles answered hesitantly.
"Good."
Then she was gone and the group were left to stare at each other.
"Does anybody else thing Travers won't live to see another sunset?" Xander asked in a quiet voice.
"Dear Lord, maybe if we drive we can beat her there."
But they had underestimated the furious Slayer's speed. She reached Giles' apartment if half the time it normally took and didn't even use the key to unlock the door. She kicked it open and without pausing marched to the couch, picked Travers up by his throat, and slammed him against the wall.
"Ms. Summers," he gasped nervously, "what's wrong."
She tightened her hold temporarily then dropped him on the floor. "You know damned well what's wrong you piece of shit." Her voice was calm, but ice dripped from her words.
"I'm sick and fucking tired of your bloody games, Travers." She grabbed the hair on top of his head, and slammed it against the wall. "Very sick of them. I'm going to ask you questions and you're going to answer them."
She let go of his hair and stood above him with her arms crossed, "Or you may find that I've changed my "no killing humans" code."
Quentin Travers decided, wisely, not to call her bluff. He licked his lips nervously, "Whatever you want to know Ms. Summers."
She grabbed his shoulders and threw him across the room to the couch. She was barely keeping her rage in check. Her fists itched to pound him into a bloody pulp, pound him until that smug smirk was erased from his face for good. But she still held some control over herself, even with the waves of anger that crashed around her head. Even with the red spots dancing in front of her eyes.
"Why is he so important."
"Spike?"
Buffy nodded slightly.
Well, the time had finally arrived to tell them the truth. Quentin knew that there was no reason to keep it concealed and he could tell that if he upset her anymore she would lose whatever thin thread of control she had left.
"You aren't so special."
"What?"
"Many, many slayers take vampire lovers. We do our absolute best to discourage this practice however."
Buffy's eyes widened and she silently waited for him to continue.
"We discourage it because, inevitably, they die for their love. But more important than that, we fear what might happen if things go to far."
"Die for their love?"
"Ms. Summers, the other slayers didn't have their lovers on leashes, thanks to souls and chips. Those vampires would try to stop feeding, but they would snap. When that happened the slayer would have to make the choice between duty and love. There would be a fight, and half the time, the slayer would die. The other half the slayer would be too devastated to continue and would give up shortly thereafter.
"It was too much a risk to encourage this type of behavior."
"And what might happen if things go too far?"
"This."
"What do you mean?"
"We feared that a slayer and who vampire lover would force Lilith's return. We feared what would happen."
Buffy's control snapped. She wanted to bash his head in for everything he had put her through. Wanted to kill him for making her feel guilty over Angel, making her push Spike away for so long. She couldn't stay in the same room and wait for the rest of his explanations. The explanations that were too late anyway.
With a primal scream of hatred and pain she fled from the house, running down the street like a wild beast was hot on her heals, pounding down the pavement. She finally collapsed near a street lamp, leaning against it, sobs wracking her body. Nearly hysterical, she cried for Angel, and Spike, and all her sisters before her who had lost somebody precious to them. She cried for the injustice of it all. She cried because she wanted to be normal. She cried because there was a purple demon lurking inside of her and she could feel it striving to own her, possess her.
She cried because she couldn't trust anybody. She cried because her lover was gone. She cried because Angel had to die. She cried because Tara was dead. She cried for every bit of pain ever inflicted on her. She cried until there were no tears left in her eyes and no air left in her lungs.
That's how her friends found her, staring blankly with glassy eyes, into a past full of lies and future bereft of hope.
****
Spike was forced to pull the car over again, this time because large red tears were blurring his vision. His Buffy was in so much pain. More pain that he had even thought possible for a girl to be in and survive.
He clutched his head and howled, closing his eyes against the red staining his hands and his clothes. What was happening to his strong Slayer?
He fought every urge to turn the car around and go back to her. He wouldn't do her any good there, and he almost reached his destination anyway. He was too far to turn back now. Answers were minutes away if he could ever start driving again.
Finally the pain subsided and he felt..nothing. Nothing from her at all. She wasn't asleep, she was just empty. This scared him more than blood tears could ever and was gripped in fear and uncertainty. He wanted to go to her so badly, wanted to make her feel something. He couldn't even imagine the dull, horrid life that would await all of them is Buffy lost the ability to feel again. He had been down that road and he never wanted to go there again.
As soon as he could see clearly he started forward. Within 30 minutes, he was standing in the shade of late afternoon outside a small, tidy, discreet house. He knocked on the door and waited patiently.
Finally an old woman opened the door and dazzled Spike with her bright and welcoming smile.
"William!" She exclaimed happily, "So fortunate to see you again. Where have you been?"
Spike smiled shyly at the woman. She always at the affect on him. "I've been around mum."
"Come in, come in my dear child. I imagine you are here about your Buffy."
Spike was startled. "How do you know?"
"William, dear, there isn't much I don't know."
Spike took a minute to smirk at the thought of old woman calling him dear and child. Spike, a Master Vampire, meekly allowing himself to be led into a large, old-fashioned parlor. Spike, the Big Bad, gratefully accepting a cup of tea, in a fragile saucer. Spike, the Slayer's lap dog, looking desperately for something to save them.
"Can you tell me what's wrong with her, mum?"
The old seer smiled comfortably at him, "Do you feel her pain, William?"
He nodded, miserably. "I can't feel anything from her now."
"She needs your help."
"How? I'll do anything."
"She was never supposed to take all of Lilith. She needed you to take half of the demon from her. She can't hold it."
"What'll happen?"
"Can you feel her?"
Spike's voice was barely above a whisper, "No."
"The demon isn't taking over her soul, it's still as strong as ever, she won't lose it. However, the demon and her soul are canceling each other out."
"Is that why she's felt everything so violently the past 12 hours?"
"Yes, her soul is struggling to hold on, but it's losing. Soon she will be automaton, only good for fighting, and only because her Slayer spirit is not being affected by what is going on inside of her."
"What can I do to fix this?"
"You need to take the demon away."
"How?"
"It's always about the blood William. You need to drink her almost to the point of bleeding her."
"But I can't do that without a soul of my own, can I mum?"
"No."
"How do I get it back?"
The old woman smiled sadly, "I don't know William. I don't know."
Spike stared at her, unable to move or speak. Finally pulling himself together, he excused himself, and went out to his car. There was nothing left for her to tell him.