Defying Death





I started my motorcycle and speed off toward Buffy's house. In the past few hours, a gang of biker demons known as Hellions had made Sunnydale their personal playground. Somehow, word had gotten out that the Slayer was dead, something the Scoobies and I had worked hard to protect. After stealing one of their motorcycles, Dawn and I had rode as far away as we could, only to find the smashed remains of the Buffybot lying next to a bonfire. Too me, it was just a bot... but it scarred Dawn something fierce. Now, she'd run off and the only place I figured she'd be was back at home. I passed through a side street, looking for any sign of Dawn, hoping I could catch her before she got into trouble.

"Dawn!" I called, slowing my motorcycle down and looking around. "Gotta be somewhere, gotta be somewhere."

Accelerating, I speed through the street.

"Dawn!" I called out once more, but to no avail. "Where could she be?" I found myself asking, shaking my head. "If she went and got herself hurt . . . " I trailed off, continuing toward the Summer's home.



Parking my bike outside, I hurried up to the door and let myself in. I looked around, in the kitchen and dinning area, but Dawn was nowhere to be seen.

"Dawn? Dawn! Are you there?" I called out urgently, worries starting to set in.

"I'm here!" came her voice from upstairs.

I shook my head and rushed toward the staircase, "Thank God. You scared me half to death . . . or more to death. You . . . I could kill you." I was out of breath, recovering from near panic.

"Spike . . . " Dawn said, coming down the stairs to greet me.

"I mean it. I could rip your head off one-handed and drink from your brain stem." I replied, using my hand as a visual.

Dawn stepped to the side of the stairs, "Look." She said.

I looked behind her, seeing Buffy come down the steps, "Yeah? I've seen the bloody

bot before. Didn't think she'd patch up so . . . " but then I stopped.

Tilting my head to the side slightly, I could feel an expression of shock rise on my face. Buffy looked at me as she rubbed at her hands a little. Dawn remained silent for the moment.

"She's kind of, um . . . She's been through a lot . . . with the . . . death. But I think she's okay." Dawn started.

I could feel her watching me as I continued to stare at her older sister.

I just couldn't take my eyes off her. I didn't know if I should be happy or upset or just remain confused. Buffy was back from the dead, something I had wished for and dreamed about for many long nights. But now that she was back, was here . . . I just couldn't find the right words to say.

"Spike? Are you okay?" Dawn asked.

I blinked, "I'm . . . what did you do?" I just couldn't get over the shock.

"Me? Nothing." Dawn said, defending herself.

I looked at Buffy from head to toe, realizing, for the first time, that I was not dreaming. That it was real this time.

"Her hands." I finally spoke.

Buffy moved her hands behind her back. A shy look on her face.

"Um, I was gonna fix 'em. I don't know how they got like that." Dawn replied, taking a step down the stairs.

The look of shock passed on and was replaced by one of understanding, "I do. Clawed her way out of a coffin, that's how." I looked Buffy in the eyes, "Isn't that right?"

She nodded slightly, looking at her hands in bewilderment, "Yeah. That's . . . what I had to do."

A sad smile passed over my face, "Done it myself." Then I realized that I had been standing, starring at Buffy for quite sometime.

I pulled myself back to reality and reached my hand out to her, letting my fingers brush her shoulder slightly, "Um . . . We'll take care of you. Come here. " I was worried for her, the poor girl wasn't herself, might never be herself again.

Buffy walked down the rest of the staircase, Dawn right behind her. She headed toward the living room with me hovering over her in protection.

"Get some stuff, uh, Mercurochrome, bandages." I directed Dawn who acknowledged and headed back upstairs.

It was all too good to be true, Buffy was back, alive . . . but I had some questions of my own that needed answering. However, I was patient, and they could wait. Buffy didn't really seem herself.

We sat down and I reached out, taking Buffy's hands into my own. In my mind I tried to remain calm, but I could feel my hands shaking slightly. Buffy looked at me and I just stared back, what may be the beginnings of a smile playing on my face.

"How long was I gone?" she asked me.

I tried to clear my throat, my voice seeming lost, "Hundred forty-seven days yesterday. Uh . . .
hundred forty-eight today. 'Cept today doesn't count, does it?" a small smile crept onto my face but Buffy just nodded, "How long was it for you . . . where you were?" I finally asked.

She appeared to think for a moment, reluctant to say anything, "Longer."

At that moment, Dawn returned, "Got the stuff." She said as she laid a first aid kit next to me.

Suddenly the front door burst open and Buffy and I turned to watch Xander, Willow, Anya, and Tara rush into the living room.

"Is she here?" Willow asked urgently.

Buffy and I stood up, no longer holding hands. I however, retreated to the back of the room while Buffy's pals crowded around her.

"She's here!" Anya said, standing next to Xander.

"You're here." joy flowed from Willow's features.

Xander looked happier than anyone else, "We didn't know where you were."

"You ran away." Anya stated.

Willow spoke up next, "Buffy!"

Bloody idiots, I thought.

"Are you okay?" Tara asked.

Buffy was now sitting on the sofa again.

Dawn looked at them in confusion, "You knew she was back? How did you know?"

I shook my head and walked out the front door, my departure going unnoticed.





"Those bloody idiots . . . " I whispered to myself, stopping next to a tree in Buffy's front yard.

Leaning my head against the it's trunk, my pent up emotions began to overflow. Tears streamed down my face as I let out a sigh, trying to deaden the confusion and relief of seeing her alive once more.

Voices become clear. It was Xander and Anya walking from the porch.

"I think Willow's wrong. I don't think she's particularly normal at all." Anya said to her boyfriend.

"Well, she just got back. Give her time. I bet in a week she'll be our little Bufferin again." Xander replied as they continued walking.

They neared the middle of the yard, "Oh yes, because six or seven days, that's really all you really need to get over eternal hell experiences."

"Who's that? Spike?"

I heard Xander say my name and quickly managed to dry most of the tears from my cheeks, just as the two reached me.

"What are you doing out here? I hope you're not going to start your little obsession now that she's around again. " I cut him off.

Grabbing Xander by his shirt, I swung him around and into the tree trunk. I leaned toward him, anger, frustration, and pain all filling my face. A small wince is all the chip in my head allowed.

"Ow!" we said as both of us experienced pain of our own.

But I shook it off quickly, "You didn't tell me. You brought her back and you didn't tell me." I said threateningly.

"Well, now you know." Xander replied.

Glaring at him, "I worked beside you all summer. Hundred and forty-seven bleedin, days. I saved your sorry lives, all of you."

"Um . . . thank you and please stop pressing against my boyfriend?" Anya said, having worked her way beside the both of us.

"We didn't tell you. It was just . . . we didn't, okay? Maybe you should stop being a problem for a second and just be glad that she's back." Xander said, trying his best to calm me down.

It didn't work, "Listen. I've figured it out. Maybe you haven't, but I have." I whispered, but I could feel my face change and knew that I was ready to cry, "Willow knew there was a chance she'd come back wrong. So wrong that you'd have . . . " I fought to compose myself, "that she would have to get rid of what came back. And I wouldn't let her. If any part of that was Buffy, I wouldn't let her. And that's why she shut me out."

Xander shook his head, "What are you talking about? Willow wouldn't do that!"

"Oh. Is that right?" I questioned, tilting my head a bit.

"Look. You're just covering. Don't tell me you're not happy. Look me in the eyes, and tell me when you saw Buffy alive, that wasn't the happiest moment of your entire existence."

Releasing Xander, I backed away, continuing to glare at him but not saying a word. He didn't get it . . . and probably never would.

Finally, I reached my motorcycle and climbed on, "That's the thing about magic? There's always consequences. Always!" I yelled at them before speeding away back to my crypt.