"Are you INSANE???"
Xander's outraged cry when the pair entered the house startled them both. Spike looked at the other man, positively affronted. "Well, yes. I thought we'd established that…"
If looks could have burned, Spike would have been a cinder on Buffy's entryway floor.
Buffy stepped in between them, placing a hand on Xander's chest. "Look: now not the best time to make for an unhappy Buffy. M'kay?"
"But Buffy…"
"You know? I hear an awful lot of that lately… I was so busy trying to make you guys happy last year that I made the one person who actually understood me miserable. It's my fault that he's like this, and so it will be my job to make him better. Understood?"
Spike said nothing during this whole exchange, just kept an even gaze with Xander, ready to jump at any sudden move the man made.
Right at that moment, Willow came through the archway of the kitchen with a tray of confections. Rather charred confections, actually. "I made cookies!" she said, smiling at Buffy, then looking with confusion at Spike.
Buffy had a hard time getting Spike up the stairs for all of his laughter.
Spike stood riveted in place at the entrance to Buffy's room, as if afraid to move or he would be staked. He watched her carefully as she reached into her closet and pulled out an inflatable mattress and air pump. She laid it on the floor about five or six feet away from her bed. Looking up at him, she gestured to the electrical outlet.
"I trust you understand the concept of electricity," she winked.
He felt his old sense of humor return momentarily. "Plugging something in, eh? Trust you brilliant American types to make something that is quite powerful when you plug something into a hole." He raised an eyebrow and was secretly delighted when her cheeks flushed crimson. Ducking his head, he moved over to the outlet and plugged in the pump. The mattress started to fill with a soft whirring noise.
Buffy stared at his back for a few moments, and then went back to rummaging through her closet for pillows and comforters. "I'm sorry it's not a four-poster bed with a canopy, but…"
"Do you think this is going to work?"
His soft interruption took her by surprise and she stared at the mattress. "Huh? Oh, yeah! It works fine. Mom and I used it a couple of years ago to go camping… Kinda the whole female-bonding thing and…"
"No, Buffy." He looked over his shoulder at her. "This. Us. Sleeping in the same room… the same house. That."
Her shoulders slumped a little as her gaze dropped to the floor. "Honestly? I-I don't know." She looked up to see him heave an unneeded sigh. "But, Spike, I do feel much better about you staying here than in the high school basement. You're safe here."
He twitched visibly and she could tell the "Greek chorus" of voices was causing him to lose his tenuous grasp on reality. "B-but what… w-what about you? You're not safe with me here… are you?" He darted a look towards the bathroom and bolted away from it, almost like he feared that it would suddenly shoot rays of sunlight out towards him. "Oh! No! William's been a naughty boy! Spark's caught fire! Fire's a blaze! Everything'll burn! Save the pets!" He covered his face with his hands and started weeping.
Buffy massaged her temples, not even bothering to sort out the bizarre verbiage.
"Save the pets?"
She turned and saw Xander waiting in the doorway. "Wait outside, Xander."
He didn't move. "Buffy, not loving this plan…"
"And obviously so not caring about my wishes or the boundaries of my bedroom," she pointed out firmly, pushing him in the chest until he was standing in the hallway. "Wait here, or wait downstairs. Your choice." And she shut the door in his face.
Buffy stood there, her back pressed against the door, for a few seconds as she tried to decide what to do about the crying vampire in her bedroom. She found herself wishing that Angel were there to help her sort out this "soul" business and mentally slapped herself. Thinking of Angel wasn't going to help Spike. Spike wasn't Angel.
She walked across the room, slowly, so as to appear non-threatening. When she finally stood toe-to-toe with him, she brought her hands up to his shoulders and gently stroked them. He tried to flinch away from her, as he had in the church, but she wouldn't allow him the retreat; with the same amount of gentleness, but with more firmness, she squeezed his shoulders.
"Shh…Spike," she whispered softly. "It's all right. Shh… stop crying. Everything's going to be okay."
"No," he moaned. "Not okay. Definitely not okay. Thought I had a pass, but the stamp wasn't on it. Pass was revoked. I'll be beaten now, for sure…" His tears began afresh.
Her heart cried with him. She was beginning to understand just what she had driven him to with her constant abuse. She had been in pain and had chosen to direct it at the one who truly loved her, soul not withstanding, as a way to cope. She was worse than the soulless being she had accused him of being.
Noticing that the mattress had finished inflating, she sealed it and turned off the pump. Spike stood motionless, still weeping. She covered the mattress with a blanket and placed a pillow there. With a spare comforter she carefully covered the window on the opposite wall so tightly that she was sure that no sunlight would ever enter that room again. Again, she placed a comforting hand on Spike's shoulder, massaging it gently. Slowly, she guided him down onto the mattress and, with little help from him, guided him so that he was comfortably "tucked in".
He watched her, unmoving, from beneath the covers, as if unsure what to make of her generosity. She didn't know what to tell him, or herself, for that matter. She shocked the both of them as she reached out and gently stroked the curls back from his forehead, slowly, methodically, until his eyelids started to droop shut. There was no rise and fall of a sleeping chest, but she knew he was asleep. She continued her ministrations for a few more minutes, then leaned over and pressed her lips softly against his forehead.
"Rest now, Spike. It's time to rest."
Closing her door behind her with a soft click, she saw Xander wasn't waiting for her in the hallway. She took a deep breath and went downstairs. There, she saw Xander and Dawn sitting on the couch, meeting her gaze with looks of betrayal. She bristled. They had no right to feel betrayed. All of this had happened to her. Not them. She turned slightly and saw Willow in the kitchen busying herself by making more cookies.
Smart girl, Buffy thought ruefully.
She paced slowly into the living room, arms crossed loosely across her chest. "What's up, guys?"
Dawn looked at her calmly. "We were hoping you could tell us."
"What's there to tell?"
Xander rolled his eyes and pointed up the stairs. "Oh, the fact that you've invited a rather unstable, undead individual into the house, into your room…"
"Is none of your business," Buffy finished. "Spike needs my help. I caused it. I'm going to fix it. I owe him that much."
Xander stared at her incredulously. "So what are you, Buffy? Patron Saint of Mentally Deranged Vampires?"
A red handprint was left on Xander's cheek in the wake of Buffy's flying hand. "You have no right to judge me, Xander. None," she hissed dangerously. "I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do."
Xander stood his ground, not giving her the satisfaction of him rubbing the sting out of his face. "No. The right thing to do would be to impale him with something sharp and wooden."
"Wait," Dawn interrupted. "What do you mean you caused this? How did you cause Spike to lose his grip on reality?"
Buffy sighed and sat down on the couch, burying her face in her hands. "I treated him badly, he loved me so much… I didn't want to let him get that close."
"Oh, but you let him get close enough to where he missed it and tried to rape you…"
Dawn fired Xander a look that could kill. "Xander, shut up. Now."
Buffy shook her head at the way things were turning out. "The point is, he tried to become someone I could… love. Someone he thought that I deserved."
"Well, he has yet to let me see him in sunlight, so I doubt that he became human…"
Buffy looked at her sister. "Remember Angel?"
The other two fell silent. Xander even looked shocked.
Willow entered the room silently, afraid to become a part of this, but drawn to Buffy's simple question. "Spike? He… he got a …?"
"Soul," Dawn breathed. "Spike somehow managed to restore his soul."
Everyone stood silently, taking this in, while Buffy massaged her temples. She felt Xander slowly sink into the couch cushions. Dawn followed soon after, while Willow crossed to sit in the armchair.
"So, he pulled an Angel. Big deal. Still evil. I've been a staunch believer since we started this whole 'Chosen One' gig that just because you feel a guilt trip coming on, it doesn't mean you didn't cause massive bloody mayhem that left many people… many loved ones dead…I mean…"
"Xander," Willow cut him off, sternly. "Shut up."
Shooting Willow a grateful look, Buffy stood up and paced the floor. "Look, I know you all live here, for all intents and purposes, too. However, this is my decision. No harm will come to Spike. He sacrificed who he was to be someone he thought I deserved. I'm going to bring him back to who he used to be. Not William the Bloody, or Spike the Torturer, but who he was after he became friends with all of us. And yes, Xander, as much as you pissed him off, as badly as you treated him, he would have risked his neck for you. He protected Dawn when I couldn't. Even after I died and showed no signs of coming back, he could have just taken off. He didn't. He stayed. He held down the fort with all of you. He deserves something for that. It's about time I gave it to him."
Xander turned crimson and Dawn burst out laughing. This was not the response that she had anticipated to her speech. She looked at Willow, who was trying hard not to join the youngest in peals of laughter. Willow stood and whispered in Buffy's ear her unintentional use of a double entendre.
The blush spread all the way to Buffy's ears.