Disclaimer: Again, none of this is mine. Bow to the great god who is Joss Whedon
Unforgiving
Dawn sat in her room, her head bent over her books. Homework was a pain, but Buffy had promised to do some training with her when she finished it. Her sister was suddenly a lot more understanding, ever since their talk in that hole in the ground. Buffy still wanted to protect Dawn, but she seemed to realise that the best way to do it was to teach her how to fight. Dawn still wasn't allowed to go patrolling, but Buffy had promised she could once her basic skills had improved a little. Dawn was enjoying being let into her sister's life; it made her feel as if Buffy finally trusted her enough to show her who she really was. It felt good. Glancing up from her math, Dawn saw a movement in the street outside the house. She stood up to get a better look and caught a flash of peroxide hair. She shook her head slightly and moved to her bedroom door as quietly as she could, easing it open a fraction so that she could hear what was going on downstairs.
In the kitchen, Buffy was listening to the radio as she prepared a salad. She hummed along to the music softly, her mind quiet and at peace.
The doorbell rang. Buffy wiped her hands and walked through into the lounge. Glancing around the room, she made a mental note to have a talk with Dawn about all the magazines strewn around and the jacket carelessly thrown on the arm of a chair. God, I'm turning into Mom, she thought to herself with a smile. She opened the door, still smiling. Her face fell; Spike was standing on the doorstep. Buffy's heart leapt into her throat and a knot started forming in her stomach. Spike felt his own heart constrict in his chest. He had seen the smile and everything he felt for her had flooded back to him, stronger with the newness of his soul. And he had seen the smile fade at the sight of him. He dropped his eyes.
"So, you're back." It was a statement, not a question. Her voice was hard and cold.
"Buffy, I didn't come round to fight," he couldn't look at her. He was just going to say what he came to say and go. "I came here to…"
"What? Apologise? Okay, well, apology accepted. Now, go away."
Spike risked a quick glance at her. She had her arms folded in front of her and her eyes were flashing angrily. She looked beautiful. He looked away again.
"I know you can never forgive me for what I did that night and that's good. You shouldn't. But I had to come here and tell you that I'm more sorry than you'll ever know." Spike shifted awkwardly.
"Is that it? Right, now you listen. Go away and stay away. I've revoked your invitation, so you can't just walk in here and make yourself at home again."
Spike met her eyes.
"Fair enough." He turned and left her standing in the doorway. He didn't run, but disappeared quickly into the dark. Buffy sighed and closed the door. Just when she thought her life was sorting itself out, Spike had to come back into it and ruin things. She turned back to the kitchen and saw Dawn at the top of the stairs.
"Dawn, I…"
"I know, " a look of almost understanding passed between them.
"You knew he was back and you didn't tell me?" Buffy was used to her sister hiding things from her, but not recently and not something as important as this. Dawn came down the stairs to her.
"He asked me not to. And I had a reason not to tell you. I knew you'd go off and chase over there and surprise him. No matter what he's done, he has saved my life more than once and I do owe him something."
"Dawnie, I'm telling you now to keep away from him. I didn't think he was capable of hurting me, but he tried to. You may think he's not capable of hurting you, but who knows?" Buffy took her sister by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Please, don't go and see him again."
"Okay, I won't." Dawn turned to go back to her room. Halfway up the stairs, she stopped and looked at Buffy again. "I think you should know something, Buffy. The invitation thing? Won't work."
"What?"
"When Spike was away, he got his soul back. He's human." Before Buffy could answer, Dawn turned and ran to her room. She sat down heavily on her bed. Had that been the right thing to do? Spike hadn't asked her not to mention it, and Buffy needed to know. Dawn sighed and lay back on the bed. It didn't look like there would be any training tonight.
Buffy stared up at her sister's bedroom door. Her mind, so calm and peaceful a few minutes earlier, was spinning. She grabbed a coat, picking up her keys from the table and wrenching open the door. She had to find out what the hell had happened.
Spike wandered slowly along the street, his hands in his pockets. He wasn't in a hurry to get back to his crypt.
There was a noise like a muffled scream. It had come from just over the nearest cemetery wall. Spike was running as he wrenched a stake from his pocket, his eyes judging the distance. Launching himself towards the wall, he grabbed the top with his free hand and pulled himself over, dropping to the ground in front of a couple of surprised vampires. One of them had a middle-aged woman by the throat and had been preparing to bite her. They both recovered from their surprise quickly and the one holding the woman let her go. He smirked.
"Well, well. A hero. Come to rescue the damsel in distress, have we?" he grinned at the terrified woman, "Not really what I'd call a damsel, though, are you?"
Spike relaxed slightly.
"New in town, are you?" he smiled.
The other vamp piped up.
"Yeah, what's it to you, Brit-boy?"
"Well, see, it's like this," Spike swaggered over to him and got in his face, "This used to be my town and now I'm back." He turned to the woman, who was still frozen in place, her eyes wide and panicked, "Better run, love. It's gonna get a bit ugly."
She nodded wildly and took off. Spike turned back to the two vamps.
"Who's first?"
The vampires glanced at each other, then threw themselves at him, their game faces on. Spike slipped the stake back into his jacket out of the way, backhanded the first vamp to reach him and dropped to the ground, knocking the other down with a sweep of his leg. On his feet again, he grabbed the bigger vampire and hauled him up, winding back for a punch. His fist was grabbed from behind. Spinning swiftly, he tried to hit the vampire behind him, but the punch went wide and he received a vicious fist to his face as he swung around. Taking advantage, the second vampire kicked him in the stomach and he went down. Spike rolled onto his back and lifted his legs, catching the vamp in mid-leap and kicking him away. Avoiding the boot that was heading for his face, he rolled again to the side and jumped to his feet, aiming a kick at the nearest vamp's head. He made contact and his opponent went down. Whipping out a stake, he turned and caught the other vampire in the chest as he attacked. The first vampire hurled himself forward and knocked the stake away, punching repeatedly at Spike's head. Spike deflected most of the blows, giving ground and retreating towards his discarded weapon. The vampire seemed to think he was winning and grinned again.
"Where y'going, pal? There's only wall behind you."
He pulled back, ready to deliver a massive punch. Spike ducked under it, shoving the vampire off balance and grabbing the stake. He brought it down hard and the vamp was dust. Spike bent over, breathing heavily and trying to fill his lungs. He'd never realised how much dust you could inhale when you had to breathe during a fight. It felt as if there was half a vampire in his chest. Coughing, he straightened up. Buffy was standing watching him. He put the stake back into his jacket, avoiding her eyes.
"So, it's true then? You're human."
"Don't know what I am. Who told you?"
Buffy took a couple of steps towards him, her arms folded in front of her.
"Dawn."
Spike nodded.
"Thought she might. Shouldn't have told her." He looked up at her, but still avoided her gaze. "See you around, Buffy," he said, turning to go.
"Wait a minute. Aren't you going to tell me what's going on here? You owe me that much."
Spike could almost feel the anger radiating off her, even from a few yards distance. He turned back to her.
"I know that. I owe you much more than an explanation. But I don't want to hurt you again and the only way I know to stop that happening is for you to stay away from me. The less you're involved with me, the better," he smiled slightly, "If you really have to know, the little bit can explain." Spike turned and started to walk slowly away. Buffy watched him go for a moment, then started on her own way home. Spike looked over his shoulder and watched her. She didn't look back.
"I still love you, Buffy," he whispered to the night.
Dawn heard the door slam downstairs. Buffy was mad.
"Dawn!"
Yep, definitely very mad.
"Dawn, get down here!"
Dawn sighed and closed her magazine. When she got downstairs, Buffy was waiting on the couch, her arms folded. Dawn went and sat next to her. She seemed to be calming down a little.
"You want a soda?"
Dawn nodded. Her sister went and got a couple of cans of soda from the kitchen, handing one to Dawn as she sat back down. Buffy opened her can and settled down against the cushions.
"Okay, Dawnie; what's the story with Spike?"
Dawn looked down at her hands. She knew she shouldn't have said anything.
"It's all right – Spike doesn't want to tell me anything and he said I should ask you."
Dawn looked at her sister. She wasn't lying. She took a deep breath.
"Okay, but no interrupting until I've finished. All I know is what Spike told me."
Buffy nodded. Dawn settled back and explained what she knew. The details about the trials were a bit vague, but the story was simple enough; Spike had hated himself so much he had travelled half way round the world and put himself through hell to try and forget what he had done. When Dawn finished, Buffy sat staring into space, trying to re-shuffle the new information in her mind.
"Buffy?"
"What? Yeah, I heard," Buffy turned to her sister, "I'm going back out again. I've got to talk to him"
"No, Buffy," Dawn caught her arm. Buffy looked down at the hand holding her back, then up at the girl next to her.
"Why not?"
"What are you gonna do when you get there, huh? Beat him up some more? Break his heart again? He said he wanted you to stay away and you should. You guys only ever hurt each other."
Buffy leaned back again. Dawn took her hand.
"You've got to forgive him before you go over there."
"I can't forgive him. Ever." She could feel the tears stinging the back of her eyes, but she blinked them back. She didn't want Dawn to see her crying again.
"If you can't forgive him, then you're not the sister I thought you were."
Buffy's head swung around.
"What? Do you remember what he tried to do to me? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? How much it hurt me? He hurt me Dawn; he tried to rape me!"
"I know what he did!" Dawn was angry now. Something in her had let go and she couldn't stop herself. "But do you know what you did to him? You used him and he forgave you. You beat on him and he forgave you. You hurt him and he forgave you. And then he snapped. He lost it because of you. You, Buffy! He loves you so much, he would have done anything for you, but you used him and tortured him with it. It wasn't the chip that changed him – it was realising he loved you. Before that, he was still up to stuff all the time, but you changed him, you made him want to be more than a vampire. And you threw it back in his face. And then you get all pissed off because he went back to being evil? You say you can't forgive him for what he did, but I think you can't forgive yourself for driving him to it. For not seeing what you were doing to him. There's no excuse for what he did, but there's no excuse for what you did to him. Think about it, Buffy."
Dawn stormed up the stairs as only a teenager can and slammed the door behind her. She sat down on her bed and grabbed a stuffed toy for comfort before curling up and crying softly to herself. She had no idea where that had all come from. She didn't even know if she believed half of it, but it was done now and only Buffy could decide what to do.
Buffy sat on the couch, stunned. Her mind was spinning. She knew her sister had always had a soft spot for Spike, but she had no idea it ran so deep. Buffy had thought that Dawn understood after what Spike had tried to do to her, but obviously she had been mistaken. She felt a surge of anger towards the girl. What did she know? How could she defend that … thing? Buffy stood up and grabbed her coat again.
Spike lay on the couch in his crypt, staring at the ceiling. He took deep breaths, trying to clear his mind. Every time he thought of Buffy, the pain was too much, so he tried to stop thinking altogether.
The door flew open. So much for not thinking about Buffy, he thought. Spike sat up slowly.
"What do you want, Buffy?" his voice was soft, his demeanour resigned.
"We have to talk," her arms were folded in front of her and her eyes were flashing in that familiar way, but he couldn't sense the anger which usually emanated from her when he was around. He moved off the couch and gestured that she sit, careful not to get too near her. He sat in the armchair. Buffy tried to make herself comfortable on the couch, her eyes resolutely turned away from him. She fidgeted some more as he waited patiently. Eventually, she gave up the stalling tactics and met his gaze. Immediately, he averted his eyes and seemed to be studying a tiny hole in his jeans.
"Look at me, Spike."
"I can't."
"We have to get all this out in the open and I prefer to talk to you, rather than at you. Okay?" He could hear the irritation building in her voice. Reluctantly, he looked up at her, flinching involuntarily as their eyes met.
"That's better. Okay, now why didn't you tell me about what happened in Africa? Why did I have to hear about it from Dawn?"
"Because I didn't want you to forgive me just because I got a soul. I couldn't stand it if you forgave me." Spike swallowed, his mouth dry.
"Good, because I haven't forgiven you. But I have to ask you about that night."
Spike visibly started back from her, "No, Buffy. Don't ask me. Please."
Buffy could see he was in pain, but she couldn't stop now, "I'm sorry, I have to know. Why did you try and rape me?"
He flinched at the word, hugging himself protectively.
"Spike!" Her voice was hard and determined. Spike tried to speak, but his voice didn't seem to be working. He took a couple of deep breaths and reached out for the glass of water that was on the table. He drained it and cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice shook slightly.
"I don't know why. I lost it. Lost it completely. It was like I wasn't there. I could see myself hurting you, trying to … but I couldn't stop. I wanted to stop, but I couldn't. Thank God you stopped me," he cleared his throat again, "I know you need to know why, but I can't tell you. One minute I was sitting here, getting drunk and feeling sorry for myself, then the next thing I know, I'm in your bathroom," Spike sank forward, his head in his hands.
Buffy watched him closely. She knew he had a soul now and that it must be killing him to remember everything he had done, but she couldn't let up; she didn't want to.
"You hurt me, Spike. More than you ever did when we were fighting. You hurt my heart."
"I know," he was shaking, his voice thick with tears.
"I'm going now," She stood up and turned to the still open door. He hadn't moved and she could see his tears falling onto the mat. Something made her go on, "I want you to know that one day I might be able to forgive you."
He sprang up, grabbing her arm and pulling her to face him.
"No! Don't do that! You mustn't ever forgive what I did! I might try it again and you have to be ready. You can't let me get close again; I might kill you. Please – don't forgive me."
Buffy stared into his blue eyes. He faltered and realised he was still holding her. Dropping her arm, he backed away quickly.
"Is that what this is all about? You think you might still be capable of something like that? Why did you come back here, then? Why didn't you stay away from me?"
"I couldn't do it," he fumbled in his pockets for his cigarettes, taking one out and lighting it.
Buffy strode back over to him and whipped it out of his mouth.
"You're human and you're still smoking those things? What, do you want to kill yourself?" She stamped it out.
"Yes."
The word was barely audible and he was turning away from her as he said it, but Buffy heard it. Something inside her snapped.
"Well, why don't you do it the quick way, huh? You're human now; there's thousands of ways of doing it. And they're all a lot quicker than smoking yourself to death."
Spike whirled around to face her.
"Because I'm scared, okay? Poor little Spikey is frightened to die. Now I got me a soul, I am terrified of what's waiting for me when I die. After all I've done, can you even imagine what my eternity is gonna be? I can't. I can't imagine pain worse than this, so maybe I'm already dead; maybe this is my hell. Only that would be too easy, wouldn't it? So I have to spend a lifetime in this body, dreading what I might do to you or to the people you love and terrified of what's waiting for me after this torture. Damned if I do and damned if I don't," he calmed a little, "Go away, Buffy. Please."
Buffy moved towards him.
"Jeez, you're starting to sound like Angel."
Spike nearly bit his newly lit cigarette in half.
"What!"
He saw her smiling slightly at him. Trying to hide his own smile, he turned his back on her.
"Go away Buffy," he repeated. There was a long pause, then the door closed quietly and Spike was alone in the room again. He sank back down onto the couch, visibly shaking. He heard a noise behind him.
"I'm okay, Clem; I just need some time."
His friend hesitated.
"Need some company?"
Spike turned to look at the demon, smiling slightly.
"Yeah, mate. That'd be good. I got some cards"
"All we need now are the kittens," Clem settled down in the armchair. Spike dealt out the cards in silence, suddenly glad of the other's quiet friendship.
Buffy walked slowly towards home, replying the scene in her head. Please – don't forgive me. She remembered saying exactly the same thing a few months ago, when Spike's chip had stopped working on her and she'd had to reveal to Tara what was going on between her and the vampire. The encounter with Spike had shaken her; she'd never seen him afraid to look anyone in the eye before. And she'd never seen him so terrified for her safety. Maybe Dawn was right. Then again, maybe Spike was.
Giles sat quietly in the little room he had adopted as his study at the retreat in Anglesey. Books lay open in front of him, apparently at random, and the notepad that lay open next to his right hand was half full of shorthand notes. His head bent over the volume on his knees, Giles referred briefly to another book, scribbled some more notes and turned back to his reading. Something stirred behind him. He turned slowly to see Willow standing in the doorway, dressed in an old t-shirt. Her eyes were blank; she was sleep walking again. Giles quietly stood and moved over to her, taking her hand and turning her gently around, a guiding hand on her back. She allowed herself to be lead. They had almost reached the bed when she stopped. Giles looked down at her and found her blank stare resting on him.
"Buffy?"
"No, Willow, it's me; Giles." He tried to move her again, but she wouldn't budge. Reaching up, she brushed his cheek gently.
"Giles." She cocked her head to one side, as if listening, "Yes, sweetie; I'll tell him. Giles, check the dates. And call Buffy." Willow's hand dropped back to her side and she started to fall. Giles bent and caught her as gently as he could, lifting her onto the bed. He made sure she was sleeping naturally and left her side to return to his study.
Going over to his desk, he took another notebook out of a drawer and turned to the next page. Carefully and clearly he recorded the date and time and the exact words that Willow had used. It had been two weeks since the sleepwalking had started and just over a week since he had started recording the events. He hadn't told Willow what was happening yet, as she had no memory of her nightly excursions, but he had discussed the implications with the druids who ran the retreat. They had laid all their resources at his disposal and every night, he sat in his study, watching over his charge and searching for an answer. So far, he could find nothing to indicate what might be about to happen, but each night, he was becoming more and more convinced that Willow was seeing something in her sleep; something that would put Buffy in danger.
Two figures made their way carefully through the graveyard, winding their way between the stones. They reached the gates and stopped. The figure in the rear, a female, slipped in front of the other and looked outside, her stance low. She was hunting, her movements cautious and economical. The other figure, male, moved back slightly, getting out of her way; letting her do her job. She scanned the area silently, then turned to her companion.
"Nothing," she confirmed. The young man seemed to slump slightly in the dark.
"We don't have much time, sister. The signs have begun."
"I am aware of the situation, brother, but I cannot kill what is not here. We will try another place." Even as she turned to leave, the woman froze in place, glancing around quickly. She turned and drew her companion back into the shadows behind the wall. After a few moments, the young man heard footsteps moving towards them. He tried to quiet his breathing. He felt the woman beside him slip away further into the shadows. A moment later from his vantage point, he saw the prey enter the graveyard. She was little more than a girl making her way home. Her manner was nervous and hurried. Beautiful he thought to himself, observing her small frame and soft face. Time to play his part. Stepping forward into the moonlight, he called out.
"Excuse me, miss?"
She turned quickly towards him, startled.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I got myself a bit turned around. Could I trouble you for some directions?" He tried to keep his voice friendly. The girl was backing away from him; the plan hadn't worked. No matter, he could see his sister on the edge of the shadows, ready to make her move.
"Don't be afraid," he told the girl. Something about his voice or his face seemed to warn her and she turned, ready to run, but she turned straight into the arms of the tall woman who had been stalking her. The girl's eyes opened wide in terror at the vampire's face in front of her. Then the fangs were in her neck and the blood was being drained from her body.
He turned away from the scene; he never watched his sister feeding. Behind him, he heard the thump of a fresh corpse hitting the ground.
"It's your turn now, Simon," his sister called. Moving down the slope, he stooped and took the girl in his arms.
"Wipe your mouth, Jessica. You always were a messy eater."
"Brother, without my eating habits, you would have nothing."
Simon shrugged, aware of the weight he was carrying.
"I would have found someone else to do my dirty work. As it is, I have you. A lucky turn of fate."
Jessica laughed bitterly, "Yes, very lucky. What would you have done if your sister hadn't been brutally murdered by that vampire?" She swung away from him contemptuously, "Who else would help you to bring an end to this miserable world?"
OK, so it's a bit long-winded, but I'm writing this on the sly in my lunch hours at work, so I haven't had a chance to do much editing. I'm getting to the plot, I swear.