8. Heat, Fire, and Hope
Evening came quietly with a subtle chill that tried to creep and pry it's way into the Summers household, but a warm calmness enveloped the home in a soft cocoon of relaxation, keeping the perils of the night cold at bay, at least for a little while. Dawn sat, curled up in blankets on top of a heating vent in the living room, idly gazing at the television. The warm air from the heater blew strands of her hair upward in a melancholy dance across her face.
"Where are you going?" she asked when she saw Buffy putting on her jacket. Buffy paused before answering.
"To see Spike..." She replied. "And if you sit on that thing for too long your butt's gonna catch on fire, so get off, cuz I'm so not paying for the hospital bills." Dawn only nodded distractedly in response.
"You ok?" Buffy asked with concern, walking over her sister.
"Spike saved Willow, didn't he?" she asked after a moment.
"No." Buffy answered, shaking her head. "Willow saved herself…but Spike…Spike made her want to…which is just as important." She added, smiling softly at Dawn.
"It's just all so confusing." She said looking to Buffy. "I mean, so he has a soul…but he's still Spike…right? And am I supposed to just forget what he did to you? I can't do that…but it's not really fair to still hold it against him… is it? And what if Willow can't…what if she's not strong enough? What if we lose her?" Buffy looked at her sister sympathetically. "It's just such a mess in my head." She finished, looking away.
"I know." Buffy said consolingly. "And I wish…I had some super-wise, big sister answer to give you, but I don't…because the truth is, I don't have this any more figured out than you do." She confessed, stroking Dawn's hair lovingly. "We just have to take it one day at a time…it's all we can do."
The inside of the crypt was dimly lit by soft and lonely candlelight. A large, full-length mirror had found its place in the center of the room, and Spike stood in front of it, fingers gently and hypnotically tracing the shiny surface. His eyes desperately searched the illusions inside the reflection, and the tears fell when, no matter how hard he looked, he could not find himself in the familiar setting before him. He did, however, see a blurry Buffy walk quietly through the door. She walked up to him, with her arms folded across her chest, but he did not move, or even acknowledge her presence, until some time had passed.
"What are you doing?" she asked when his eyes would not leave the glassy surface.
"I'm somebody…right?" He asked softly to mirror Buffy. She pressed her lips together and looked down. "I'm a person …right?"
"Of course you are." she answered softly, searching his profile.
"But I look…" he protested, his voice stuttering with emotion. "And I'm not in there. There's no one in there!" He placed a hand on the side of the mirror and bent his head a moment before facing mirror Buffy again. "See…? I'm looking for me…but all I can see is you…" His voice betrayed him, and he placed a hand over his face to keep Buffy from seeing him cry.
"Spike…Willow's on her way to England right now with Giles…because of you." He didn't say anything. "If it wasn't for you she might not have come out of there, cuz God knows I wouldn't have known what to say to her." She persisted sternly.
"And what does that mean, exactly?" he asked slowly. "That I did a good deed? Am I a good person now? Does it make up for that girl I killed in Paris? I remember that one." A scornful chuckle. "I killed her slow…watched her beg for half an hour before I finally finished her off…Never heard a person say the word 'please' so many times in my life."
"Spike…"
"So that's how it works, is it? I just…help old ladies cross the street…give homeless blokes food…and be a good bloody Samaritan, in hopes that it'll all even out? That it'll tip the scales? Do enough good and all the bad just washes away?!" He put one hand on his hip and another to his chin, and turned his back to Buffy, pacing to the opposite side of the crypt. Buffy opened her mouth to speak but Spike interrupted her, yanking his shirt off violently to expose his chest to her. She stumbled back nervously. "It doesn't matter what I do Buffy!" he said looking desperately into her eyes. "Doesn't matter how good I can be now. It's still in there!" He began to claw madly at his chest, digging his fingernails into the flesh. Blood oozed out and dripped down in streams, but Buffy grabbed his arms and pulled them away.
"Spike, stop it!!" she cried
"How am I supposed to live like this?!" he hollered back fiercely, whipping out of her grasp.
"You asked for this!" Buffy reminded him. "This is what you chose, remember? This is what you wanted. A chance. The chance to be a better person." Spike shut his eyes tightly against the world. "Did you think it was gonna be a walk in the park? " She asked incredulously.
"No…" he replied, moving into a dark corner and out of her site for a moment.
"I don't know how you're supposed to live your life like this Spike; not any more than you do…but you have to find a way." She said, searching the room for his figure. When he emerged into the light again he was holding a stake. Buffy froze.
"Not necessarily." He replied matter of factly, rolling the weapon around in his hand, and examining it like he had never seen one before. Buffy's eyes widened in horror as she realized what he had in mind. "I could make it real easy, reaaaally quick, actually." Buffy's heart began to pound deafeningly inside her chest. She resisted the urge to full out panic, and forced herself to stay calm and collected. "If I lose it, " she thought to her self, "I'll lose him."
"So that's it?" she challenged, walking cautiously towards him. "You've put yourself through Hell and back, and now you're just gonna quit? Give up?"
"Shut up!" he cried viscously, lunging towards her. His eyes were red and wet with tears. "You don't know!" he seethed, throwing his body menacingly within inches of her skin, and shoving his face in front of hers so closely that their noses were almost touching. "You don't bloody know…how it feels…how it burns!" He put the stake to his bleeding chest and aimed the point directly above his heart with a trembling hand.
"What was that then?" Buffy asked with quiet intensity, unshaken by his violence. "All an act? Are you really that much of a hypocrite?"
"What are you talking about?" Spike growled suspiciously through squinted eyes.
"Everything you said to Willow back there. " she replied. "I heard all of it Spike. Every word. Now are you gonna live by it? Or are you gonna make her mistake?" she asked expectantly. He clenched his jaw, and squeezed the stake so tightly that it shook in his hand, never taking his eyes away from Buffy's.
"I don't even know who I bloody am!" he growled, but she could see pain and confusion behind his anger.
"And you're afraid to find out!" she whispered harshly in his face. A nerve having been struck, he dropped the stake and grabbed her roughly by her arms. Still she didn't back down.
"There's no one in the world like you Spike." She continued, searching his eyes. "You had evil inside you, and you chose to be good instead. You suffered to be good…for me." He took in a deep, shaky breath but said nothing. "Things that are evil…demons…vampires … they aren't supposed to choose good over evil. Their not even supposed to be able to. It's not in their nature…not anymore than being soulless is in mine. But you did. You're different from them. You saw what you were that night and you hated it, so you changed. You went against every natural instinct inside you. That comes from a strength even The Slayer can't wrap her mind around." Spike could not believe what he was hearing. He could do nothing really, but stare at her in shock, rendered speechless by her touching words.
"Don't give up Spike." She demanded. "Don't give up on me." Her whole body shook with sudden terror of the feelings that had sprung up and saturated her eyes with tears…feelings she didn't even know were present until she was already feeling them.
"Then give me reason not to!" He hissed passionately, pulling her closer so that their bodies touched. "Give me a reason Slayer."
As the last of the candles flickered out, and with the wind howling with unstoppable force outside, the vampire and the slayer found each other's mouths, and hope was born from a fire of acid and ecstasy that burned until the morning light.
The End