Spike was well into his third bottle of scotch when Buffy came flouncing through his crypt door the following night. He was lying on top of the stone sarcophagus, swigging liquor directly from the bottle and allowing the languor of drunkenness to dull the pain he was suffering. Never mind the damn soul, the whole business of knowing what was going to happen and being powerless to do anything about it was enough to drive him to drink. The soul only added that extra knife twist into his gut just to make sure he was feeling the pain.
"Spike!" Buffy called, heading towards his prone body.
"Hmmmmmmmmm," he cut her off, placing two fingers on his forehead. "Hold on, I feel a vision coming on… Don't tell me… Little Sis has run off again."
She opened and closed her mouth then put her hands on her hips angrily. "Yes. How did you know that?"
He dropped his hand to his side and giggled nervously. "I've got the Sight. Oh Dru, now I finally know how you felt all those years. Listen, the stars are singing."
Buffy snorted, seeing the empty bottles strewn on the floor.
"Are you drunk?" she accused.
He laughed again. "Yeah," he drawled with a lopsided smile, then his face grew serious. "Doesn't help much, but it just makes everything so damn funny."
"You're pathetic, Spike. You're useless to me drunk."
He gave her a hard look. "I'm useless to you no matter how I am. I fail to see how a little liquor'll make any difference."
She snorted and gave him an angry glare.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I tell you a nasty truth that you didn't want to hear?" he sneered, sitting up. "Whaddya gonna do, Slayer, break my nose?"
Buffy looked away and stepped back, pursing her lips. She shook her head slightly. "I won't hit you again," she said softly, then added with a sharp glare, "Not when you don't deserve it."
He gave her a smirk. "Givin' yourself an out, eh, Slayer. Just lemme know when ya wanna play Kick the Spike again an' I'll be sure to book a one-way trip to Borneo on that day."
He stood up, rolling his shoulders and reaching for his coat. "Well, let's rally the troops, find the Nibblet. And hey, maybe I'll even get my head bashed in by a Hell God. Might get rid of this bloody headache."
She gave him an odd look, watching him as he put on the coat. When she kept staring at him, he glared at her impatiently.
"Well? Come on," he said bitterly and stalked out, not bothering to see if she was behind him.
Moving purposefully through the cemetery, he heard Buffy fall into step beside him, but he didn't look at her. In truth, he was feeling rather guilty for snapping at her, but there was only so much a man or vampire could take.
'Useless to her the way I am. Useless to everyone's more like it. No good for anything. All I do is bugger things up.'
He kept ahead of her until they reached the Magic Box, where he held the door for her just out of habit. She gave him a look as she passed him and entered the store, but didn't say anything. He followed, straightening up as he entered, and putting on his bravado in preparation of facing the Scoobies. Giles, however, took one look at him and frowned, seeing right through his façade.
"I brought the Bleached Wonder," Buffy announced offhandedly. "He deigned to pull himself out of his bottle long enough to help us find Dawn."
Spike raised his eyes to meet Giles' and the two men locked gazes.
"Could I see you in the training room, please, Spike?" Giles asked tightly.
He gave a quick nod and followed the Watcher.
"If you'll excuse us," Giles apologized, closing the training room door behind them.
"You've been drinking heavily." It was a statement, not a question.
Spike flopped down on the old sofa, legs and arms spread-eagled. "Told you, Watcher, drink's the only thing keepin' me sane."
"We need you sober," Giles hissed.
"Oh what? Think I'm cagin' in on your rep as the Scoobies' drunkard? Lest you forget, Rupert, you were drinkin' yourself into oblivion all last year, *and* with me not all that long ago," he shot back.
Giles didn't have a quick answer, but he did shake his head and glare disapprovingly at the vampire.
"That may be so, but in a crisis, I understand the importance of having a clear head."
"Why?" Spike retorted. "Doesn't help any. Doesn't make it better. I still got all these memories in my head that I can't do anything about!"
"That isn't true! You are doing everything you can to use your knowledge to help us."
"Fat lot of good it's doing! I haven't changed anything! You lot won't listen to me. Half the time you think I'm lying! The clock's tickin' down. Dawn knows she's the Key. Glory's gonna start gettin' creative with us! The bloody armored medieval rejects are pokin' around! And Ben. Is. Still. Alive."
Giles shook his head. "I told you, we only kill Ben if there is no other choice."
"And I'm tellin' you offin' him solves all of our problems."
"He is an innocent."
"Bollocks! Dawn's more of an innocent. At least she didn't know what she was until last night, and if you lot had told her about it like I told you, she wouldn't have gone scamperin' off in the middle of the night to find out by herself and gone all slash and burn on us."
"And how do you propose we should have told her?" Giles snapped back.
"Anythin' was better than havin' her find out the way she did. And if you hadn't been whisperin' and actin' all weird around her, she would never have known somethin' was up. Bloody idiots couldn't keep a secret if your sorry lives depended on it."
"And you, of course, are a stellar example of deference and stoicism," the man snapped.
"Oi! It took a Truth Spell to drag it out of me, if you recall. Not even the Slayer gettin' creative with my body parts made me spill. Took you and your nancy-boy spell to make me tell."
"Yes, and to my great regret, that is true."
"So tell me, Watcher, how my knowin' all this stuff, and my bein' here is doin' a whit of good?"
Giles sighed. "You have been able to affect some change, Spike."
"So I saved the bloody bloomin' onion! Bully for me! I haven't been able to make any big changes! I haven't been able to make sure that Buffy doesn't have to die to save her sister!"
"We don't know that! Altering history is a tricky business. There are a great deal of things that must be considered…"
Spike shook his head as his anger fizzled and the guilt he carried with him as a constant companion fell down on him.
"No. I figured it out, ya see. It's all my fault."
"How do you mean?"
He looked up at Giles, sorrowful and broken. "Everythin'. It's all my fault. If I hadn't taken Dawn to Doc, then he wouldn't have known she was the Key. If I hadn't gotten that wanker Warren to make me a Buffy-Bot, Glory would never have gotten a hold of me…"
"But you didn't betray Buffy and Dawn to Glory, even under torture," Giles broke-in.
"I know I didn't! Was still there, wasn't I? Still made her get up close and personal with the Hell Bitch. Still failed to stop Glory from gettin' Dawn in the first place. Still let Doc knock me off the bloody tower and cut Dawn. If I wasn't here, then none of that would've happened," he yelled.
He stopped, pulling himself back together when he felt as if everything was just coming apart at the seams.
"Dru's comin' back," he said suddenly.
Giles looked up from cleaning his glasses. "What?"
"Dru. She's comin' back in a week or so. Comin' in on a train. Thought I might go with her. Bugger out of here. Might be best for everyone involved."
"So you'll just run away then?" Giles responded with forced levity.
Spike's head shot up and he snarled. "Not runnin' away, Watcher. Didn't you just hear me tell ya that it's all my fault!"
"And I can think of a dozen different examples of how your presence has helped us," Giles snapped back, losing patience. "However, if you would rather wallow in self-pity and drink, then by all means do so. If you would rather slink off with your ex-paramour and abandon us, then go ahead. I will continue to use the knowledge you have given me in the fight against Glory, and do what I can to alter history without your help. At this point, I really don't care what you do because you are useless to me as you are, and if you can't pull yourself together long enough to function properly, then maybe it is best that you do leave."
With that, Giles walked out, leaving Spike still sitting on the couch. The vampire squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his palms against his temples, willing back the tears. Biting his lip, he struggled to compose himself and decide on a course of action. He was so wrapped up in his own pain that he didn't hear or see Tara enter the training room until he felt her gentle touch. Snapping his head up, startled, he stared at her with moist eyes.
"Can I help?" she asked gently, her eyes soft and compassionate, and he knew her offer was genuine.
'Sweet Glinda,' he thought, looking at her.
Pretty soon Glory would brain-suck her, turning her into a babbling lunatic, and he frowned. She was the only one who had ever showed him any kindness, who had ever touched him with gentleness. Even when he was at his worst, she had still looked at him with compassion and patience. She didn't deserve what Glory would do to her, or any of what happened after.
And he was in a position to stop it. The realization was a balm to his bleeding wounds and a look of infinite tenderness came to his face. She'd given him a reason to keep fighting. All of the invective and anger and indignation hadn't touched him the way this girl's simple touch and offer of support had done. He reached up and stroked back her hair with one hand, smiling with gratitude when she didn't flinch away from his cool skin. Then he slowly rose to his feet, shouldering his burdens once again, and leaned over to kiss her gently on the temple.
"No, Glinda. But thank you."
He gave her a final fond glance and composed himself, squaring his shoulders and walking towards the open training room door. He passed Giles on the way out.
Tara watched the vampire leave, her mind and heart in turmoil. She waited as Giles approached her with questions on his face. He must have seen her come in and wanted to see what was happening.
"He's in so much pain, Mr. Giles," she said softly, her eyes still focused on the open door.
Giles sighed and nodded. "He carries a very heavy burden."
Tara looked at him, gathering courage to voice what she had suspected all along. "It's his soul, isn't it."
The shocked and guilty look on the man's face gave him away. "How…"
"I can see it. It's in his aura. I just didn't say anything because it wasn't my place to give away his secrets."
"Yes, well…"
"It's okay if you don't want to tell me about it. I understand. I'm just glad that he has someone else to help him. I'm sure it's very hard for him, and it's always easier if you're not alone."
She gave Giles a tender smile and followed the path Spike had taken out of the training room, leaving Giles a little more than stunned and chagrined.
"No, not alone," the man sighed, and walked to join the rest of the group in organizing a search for Dawn. He tried to make eye contact with Spike, but the vampire refused to look at him.
Spike had wrapped himself up in his duster like a leather shield and withdrawn into himself. There would be no reconciliation with him tonight. Giles hoped they would come to terms with each other again sometime within the next few days, but for now there were more pressing matters.