Chapter Thirty-Seven

He laid her on the stone tenderly, brushing locks of hair from her face. Dried tears crusted against paling skin, and while she tried to hold it inward, her lungs couldn't help but pump for air. In all the long years of his life, he couldn't imagine an image more beautiful.

She was shivering, but there was not much anyone could offer a shivering vampire, especially in accommodations such as these. The duster she wore even in darkness was wound tightly to her body. He sat beside her, watching with heavy eyes. It would take time, he understood. Lord knows it had taken him long enough.

She was still crying.

William drew in a breath and neared precariously. There was no sure one way to advance, but he wouldn't allow her to weep all night. Revelations forbade such cruelty. He knew well her torment, and the need for whatever reparation the world had to offer. But no. He loved her too much to sit aside and watch.

Hesitantly, he reached for her, hand soft against her shoulder. "Buffy?"

Her withdraw was sharp and aggressive; a swift jerk that pulled beyond his reach. The blue of her eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't touch me! Keep away!"

An immediate though reluctant extract. He nodded and reeled his arm back ritualistically to his side. "Whatever you want. I'm 'ere, luv. Talk to me when you feel like it."

For long minutes, all he could do was observe in the midst of gut-wrenching grief. It was so hard watching her cry and not being in the position to comfort. He schooled himself to stillness, hands forming tight fists in the will not to break his restraint and take her into his arms. There were no words that would make the world go away. There were no reassurances that all would be well. It was him and her: there together for as long as time allowed. As long as she needed before the inevitable release.

Every sob wore down his last strains of resolve.

When tremors began seizing possession of her body beyond the brink of control, he could stand it no longer. By instinct, he pulled her into his embrace amidst her struggles and cries of protest. It didn't take much; once her head found his shoulder, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug so firm any normal man would have passed out for lack of circulation.

"There," he said softly. "'S all right. 'S all right now."

"No! It's not!" she cried, pulling away to see his eyes, wiping the tears from her face in an effort that was determinately fruitless. It killed him a thousand times over to see the anguish her features held. The look of forewarning that bade him from conceivably belonging anywhere else. And she dissolved. Whether by looking at him, or seeing what wasn't there to reflect in the pits off his eyes, he did not know. Strenuous sobs choked out of her throat, laced with words nearly beyond the threshold of comprehension. "Oh God! I'm so sorry, Will! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

The outburst was so mockingly familiar that he felt like staking himself.

"It wasn' your fault, pet."

"Then whose was it? I've killed, Spike. I've been feeding on humans for days!" Another onslaught of tears washed down her swollen cheeks. "You should have killed me. Run me through with that crossbow when you had the chance."

William shook his head, thumb flickering strains of moisture from her face. "I couldn't do that," he said softly. "Not while there was any measure of hope that I could get you back."

"This isn't about you!" Buffy spat. "Or you…having me in any form. This is…how can I live with myself? What is there for me now?"

"There's you," he replied with breathtaking simplicity. The sort of conception that one arrives at and is never told. "Luv, you 'ad no way of knowin' what would 'appen, else you woulda let yours truly through the bloody Gate. You did it out of love…for everyone."

"It's not that easy," the Slayer retorted bitterly, shaking her head. "I never pretended to make it that easy for you, or for Angel, or anyone. I'll never…I could have killed them! The things I did…what I said. Faith. Oh God…Faith. I—"

"You can't blame yourself for any of it. This isn't like before." William heaved a sigh. "'F there 'aden't been an inklin' of hope, I woulda done you in. Real good, too. I wouldn't let that thing 'urt the Nibblet, or Red, or hell, even Peaches. Couldn't." Delicately, he placed his hand over her unbeating heart. "I know you. That Porphyria, or whatever we called 'er…it wasn' you. Not in any form." He released a long breath. This was simply too much for even him to endure. The night was endless and he prayed only to wake and find this all not a dream. She looked and felt real, but the mind was a cruel, mocking device. It willed one to see what was desired — not what was actually there.

This he knew from devastatingly catastrophic experience.

Buffy shook her head again in fierce denial. "The same way you're not Spike? Get over yourself, Will! I said some very wrong things…too many…but that wasn't one of them." She wiped her eyes irately. "Don't give me that. I know…a part of it…I've been watching you ever since you got back. And yeah, I admit, in many ways, you're not him. You're not him enough not to be him. You got that part, sure. You're the poet, he's the demon…but you need each other to survive. You…don't look at me like that! You know it's true!" A choke stifled her throat. "And now look what I've done! God, Will! Look at what I've done!"

"What you did. Yeh. Bad stuff. All the way 'round. Horrible. Nasty. Pet: It Wasn't You. That thing…I'd've known. You should, too. The same way you can love Peaches but not Angelus. You know the bloody difference. One is a killer, the other is an annoyin' poofter. There's one an' the other, baby." He grasped her roughly by the shoulders and allotting her already-trembling form one good shake. "Sure, luv. Yeh got me. I'm bleeding William the Bloody Awful Poet an' that stupid git who din't know when to stop. One vamp outta a thousand. What I got doesn' apply to you. You never woulda done the things you did. Never. You don' have the stones, remember? I'd know it. By God, I'd know it."

"I…" But there was nothing to say. Nothing to do but nod in dismal acceptance. Her eyes were drained of all tears. A rasping choke clogged her throat, demanding to be bypassed. "Everything," she said hoarsely, a note having fallen in bland realization, "that I ever said to you. You as Spike. About being pure evil…and…"

"Don' even finish that thought, luv," he growled. "'S not fair to judge yourself based on wha's 'appened."

"Oh, fuck what's fair!" Buffy cried. "I was never fair. Never. Even when I admitted I was wrong, even when I apologized. I knew it but I never understood. Never. Not like…" She trailed off, as though first taking account of their surroundings. "Where are we?"

He brushed clumps of falling hair from her face. "After the street…what 'appened…I woke Peaches up 'an told 'im to buzz off. To tell the others how it all went down. I brought you back to…that night, that firs' night. Remember? The night we 'ad?"

"When I was hurt and you recited your poetry?" If she could have, despite context, she would have flushed. "Or the other night we had?"

At that, he grinned. A small, sad grin. "Right the first time. I brought you 'ere to fix you up. Granted, you weren't cut up too bad, but a lil help couldn't hurt. I din't think you'd…be ready."

"To see them?"

"Yeh." William looked down, hand sliding down her cheek to rest peacefully at her shoulder. "Did I do right?"

Buffy nodded, expelling a long twine of air. "How will I face them?" she asked softly. "After everything…how can I?"

"You din't 'urt a one of 'em. I saw to that."

"But the things I said! All the horrible things…" Her face blanked with ghastly recognition. "Oh…Dawn. Dawnie. I almost…I…"

"She'll understand. They all will."

"It's not a matter of understanding, Spike. They love me and I know they always will. I know that in the end…but…"

A poignant comprehension settled over him, and with a sigh of reasoning, he admitted the truth into acceptance. "'S about you forgivin' you, innit, pet? 'S not about them at all."

Her eyes glossed over with tears once more, though she thought there was no motivation for extended sorrow. "The people I…and Faith. I killed Faith. She was here to help and I—"

"Again…we've danced this dance before. It wasn' you, pet."

"But—"

"In any regard, she was attackin' you. 'F you aden't killed 'er, she woulda you in a heartbeat." It was a long shot, but he felt compelled to try. The look he received was unfeeling, almost cold, and he immediately regretted releasing the words. However, that didn't prevent him from constructing an ill-conceived justification. "Think about it, pet. She woulda done it. I knew the minute I laid eyes on 'er. Sod redemption an' gettin' you back an' the like…she said she wouldn't but I knew. That bird was out for blood."

"It's her job, Spike!" she spat. "She's…she's a slayer. I'm a vampire. An out of control vampire that was… And I killed her."

"Tha's jus' somethin'…you're stronger than this, Buffy. You've been around it too long…but 's a part of the soul-'avin' gig. 'F things 'ad gone differently, y'wouldn't 'ave ever considered what 'appened 'ere. You know that, an' I know that—"

The Slayer shook her head vehemently. "God, you're such a hypocrite. Listen to yourself! What have I been telling you since you came back? You had no concept of difference! You wouldn't hear a word of what I had to say. And now that it's the other way around…you can't expect so much of me, Will. I speak it, but hell, I can't take it." That much was true, and a flash of burdened guilt shimmied up his spine in result. It wasn't fair to put such pressure on her. He simply couldn't bear to see her suffering the long-winded pains of self-hatred. On her, the color was awkward and unneeded. Despite everything, there was no way she deserved that torture. "And you know what kills me…what really kills me? You! Let me…I was…I never was fair. Never. To feel such blackness and reject it. Why is it you got the entire 'right and wrong' thing? Why did you care?" Tears were coming again. They both thought they were beyond crying, but the sight of one's grief did the other in. "And…all I could feel was hate! And the want to destroy everything good. And…how could you get love from that? How could you fight beyond what…how did you do it, Will? How? It's not fair!"

William grasped one of her flailing arms and jerked her to him roughly, forcing her eyes to his. "You 'ave any idea how many years I spent killin' an' feedin' an' doin' things jus' because it sounded like good ole fun? Don' ever think I was different from any of the others. Not a one of 'em. Even when…even when I was with you, I wanted to go out there an' be reekin' some havoc. I—"

"That's just it!" she screamed back. "You wanted to. You wanted to, but you never did. Don't you see? You could have…even with the chip…but you didn't. I felt nothing like that. Nothing. Ever. Not for one second. I had you tied up and my thoughts were fuck or kill. I…I tried to…Angel. I tried to make him lose his soul. I did awful things…just in a couple of days. My own sister…and it's not like you had no want of emotion! There was Dru! Perverse, yeah, but you loved her. You loved her enough to…to not…"

"Buffy, please—"

"I felt nothing but darkness. It consumed me." Her words were becoming distorted again, and she leaned her head wearily on his shoulder. "I can't take that, Will. Not again. Oh God, how I envy you. You and Angel. You…you're so collected and…you know…but I…"

"Listen to me, you halfwit," he said, fighting the instinctual urge to pull away to see her eyes. It was comfortable like this. They both needed that sense of closeness. "Peaches was a prat who got 'imself sired because of his bloody drunkenness. I was a prat who got myself sired because some bitch din't like my poetry. You got sired to save your sister. You sacrificed yourself to save the world…again. There 's nothin' in there to…you weren't 'er, luv. That thing…I knew. I knew the minute you walked in. The minute I saw you when you firs' came in an' I 'ad to…I knew. It wasn' you. Not one part of it. It wasn' you." At that, he offered a sheepish smile. "I mean, come'n, luv, we told you enough times. All of us did."

Buffy looked down, shaking her head in characteristic refutation. "I don't think I can do this," she whispered. "An eternity of pain? An eternity of…of everything. I don't know how you've lasted this long…with or without a soul. I don't get it, Spike. And I never will." Tears welled in her eyes again. "And…it could happen again. All of it. Any of it. One goddamned moment of true happiness and I…" She looked up. "I'm assuming you guys found another Orb of Thesulah. Thank God. Where'd you get it?"

"Watcher Boy brought it with 'im," he replied. "'m guessin' they got a call from 'im once they got back to the house."

"Wes came?"

"'E sent Faith 'ere first."

The mention of the name made her twitch. He decided not to linger. "Tell me what to do, then," he whispered. "Honestly, luv, I'm at a bloody loss."

"How…how long can we stay here?"

"As long as you need."

She nodded. "There are some things…we need to discuss."

"I'd say so."

Buffy drew in a breath and closed her eyes tightly. "And this is the way it'll be…us dancing at arm's length. Me, trying but never getting over what's happened. Watching my friends and family grow old and die. And you…here for me but never here for me. You're right, Will. You were right about every single reservation you ever had. About staying…especially now." She shook her head. "I can't imagine what…watching them die. My friends. The people closer to me than anything on the face of this planet. And you've been careful. I've been so insensitive and you've been careful. You've tried to do the right thing…stay away. And I knew it! I knew every minute that I was being a bitch and, fuck it, I didn't care. You haven't said it once since you've been back, but I know. I guess I know. And now…now I have to do this. I'm here…and I'll be alone, and my GOD what have I turned myself into? I won't become a monster again. I won't let it happen! That means you have to leave. That means—"

"No." William surprised her with his sharp straightforwardness, earning a blink and a double take, as though both leaping for joy and despair at the same time.

"What?"

It was nothing he had conjured spontaneously, though at the moment, there had never been a more preposterous proposal. Four years ago he would have said differently. Four years ago, anything seemed possible. But now, sitting with her in this dreary environment with reality hovering of their heads, the notion was outlandish. Far out there. Practically beyond reach.

But nevertheless, plausible.

The look on her face was enough to convince him of anything.

"Luv…I can…you don' deserve that." A long breath fought out of his body. "I told Ripper a few…well, it seems like a long time ago, but I guess it wasn'. Prolly days. Huh. Jus' days. I told 'im one of the reasons I was leavin' was because it was in your best interest. 'E made some bloody good points." There was no way to discuss the matter without being incredibly blunt and seemingly insensitive, but it was a discussion that needed to be had. Now more than ever. "Luv, do you 'ave any idea jus' how long forever is?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Be honest. How long is forever where you're standin'?"

All possible reaction drained from her face. It was a difficult calculation to conjure on a second's demand. When it was obvious she had not an answer to supply, he nodded in understanding and waved his disclosure.

"Tha's what I thought. I've been 'ere…well, not forever but it bloody well feels like it. I loved Dru for a good part of that. She's been gone a while now, but I always feel she's 'round, still." Understanding washed into her eyes; not the sort of resentment one might expect when an old lover finds their way into the conversation. "An', 'ad things not changed, 'ad I never come to this town an' met the lot of you, I'd still be with 'er. She was out of 'er ruddy mind, but I loved 'er. Enough to be with 'er forever." William looked at her seriously. "Luv, the point is, I had no clue how long forever was. Still don'. It din't matter to me. I 'ad everythin' a bloke could ever want. If…if I can…would you be able…I won' pretend we come from the same generation. Despite my…well, everythin', things like divorce an splits were pretty much unheard of back in the day. Do you think you could stand bein' 'round me forever?"

The look he received was one of grim astonishment. "Of…Spi…there's no reason to talk about this. I—"

"'F the answer is yes, then I think I can work somethin' out." The wheels in his head began churning. "Luv, I lost you. I've lost you before, but I really lost you this time. It was the worst feelin' I've ever 'ad. Ever. An' now…things won' be easy. They'll never be easy. I can't promise you much, but…'f we do this…'f you can, then I gotta know. I don' think I could stand to lose you again. What 'f there came the day when you decided jus' to up an' move on?"

At that, she grew hostile and defensive. "Move on? To who? Or what? I have no one in this world left! And…why are we even having this conversation? Happiness, remember? Nix the happiness for me. It's not worth that. I…I don't want my love to kill you. You or anyone. And that's what it would do, ultimately. That's—"

"No." He shook his head. "I've got you back now, and damn it all 'f I let it all slip away from me again. Buffy…do you love me?"

"What?"

"Do you love me?"

A frown depressed her face. "Will…argh…despite the fact that I just said…bah. If you don't know the answer to that by now, then…well…you're just really stupid. But that doesn't matter anymore, don't you get it? None of it matters. I—"

He went on without lending her time to voice an argument. "Would you stay with me forever? No matter how long it turns out to be?"

"Will—"

"Jus' answer the question, luv."

She sighed, hand combing through her hair. "Well…yes. Yes. I don't think…I can't see anyone… Will, what's the point?"

"Stay with me…" A look of contentment the world itself had never before acknowledged lit his face like a bonfire of safe-haven. "You would? Forever?"

"YES! Forever. Until the world ends. Whatever it is that you need to hear. I—"

"It'll get rough, pet."

Aggravation flooded her features. "Everything does. Don't talk like—"

"You'll wanna stake me 'alf the time."

"Like now?"

He didn't pause to arch a cynical look in her direction. Thoughts were racing through his head far too quickly for any meager interruption to stop the flow. "I'll go to the end of the world for you. I did already, an' I'm willin' to do it again."

"What are you talking about?"

"Buffy…" He took her hands tenderly in his, caressing the backs with his thumbs. "Africa. We'll go to Africa an' get you a permanent soul. Like mine. One that one sodding moment of true happiness can never take away. Whaddya say, luv? Forever? 'S a long ruddy time an' it'll be hard as hell, but I think we can make it. I—"

The sheer assurance of the plot was enough to fill anyone's heart with joy. It was with the greatest relief that he watched comprehension settle in her eyes. "A permanent…"

"Yeah, luv. I won' let you fall again. Made the bloody promise to Red, an' I've made it to you. Don' aim to go back on it. I—"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Fire blazed behind her eyes alongside a sense of old-school humor. All want of denial and objection abandoned her without suggestion. "This is only if I said yes?"

At that, he managed to look sheepish. "Well, no. I jus' wanted to know."

A grin, faint but tangible, spread across her lips. She walloped his arm with more force than she intended. "Jerk."

"'Ey, a bloke has a right to know. 'F we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it all the way. I'm takin' you to Africa…an' we'll make a deal with a demon." He smiled and toyed with a lock of fallen hair. "We'll do it, luv. An' I'll spend the rest of eternity tryin' to make you happy. As happy as possible. Happier than—"

"Will it be hard?"

"What? Makin' you happy?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, nimrod, passing the…whatever it takes to get permanent restoration."

A note of resignation washed through him. "As hell. But 'f I could do it—"

That was all the encouragement she required. The grin on her face elevated to the esteem of a bona-fide smile. "Point taken. All right. Africa. We'll go to Africa."

"That we will."

"When?"

"Whenever you want, pet."

She sighed. "I…I'll need to see them before we leave."

"'Course."

"How long will it take…this…thing…to get over? I know…but I don't…I just…"

William pursed his lips. "I won' lie to you, pet…it'll take a long time. You'll likely carry it around forever. But we'll work through it. I'm 'ere…every step of the way."

Buffy nodded and took his hand, and while she trembled, her grip was backed with resolve. "Every step," she repeated.

There was nothing more to say. And while neglected concerns occupied the air around them, there was plenty of time to tend to every inquiry. Every wonder. Every miniscule anxiety of substantial consequence.

As of that minute, they had forever.

Author's Note: I know it sounds very fairy tale-y, but trust me when I say we're not out of the woods yet. To a lighter clearing, perhaps, but there are still miles to go (at least a few, give or take) before they sleep. And, as always, the trail will not be without its sharp corners and sudden drop-offs. I simply decided to Disney it up for one chapter. Figured they deserved it. Heh.