Chapter 28

After Buffy ran out of the room, and the blood flow had ceased, Spike set to work on cleaning the red drops from the carpet. He knew from experience that you could avoid stains completely if you did it while the blood was still fresh.

He was torn. He wanted to follow Buffy and assure her that he was fine and everything was ok. But he knew that it might be best to leave her alone, to let her have some time to think. He was bothered by the way her face crumpled, the look of horror and sorrow in her eyes. She didn't even hit him that hard.

Spike ran his fingers through his hair with frustration. He wanted to help Buffy do whatever she had to do, but he knew there were some things that he couldn't do anything about. Whatever was going on, whatever lesson she was supposed to learn, whatever she had to do to get Joyce back, it was all on her.

When the carpet looked good as new, Spike leaned back on his heels and closed his eyes. He had to find her. He couldn't let her do anything drastic, and for once, they would have a civil conversation. Even if it killed both of them. Which was more likely than not.

Spike went into the bathroom and watched his face, careful to remove all the signs of blood. His nose wasn't even tender or bruised, so there wouldn't be any signs of the violence. Buffy didn't need that.

They were all waiting downstairs for him, eager to find out what was wrong with Buffy, and if he knew where Joyce was. He couldn't answer their questions. "Look, I have to go find her."

"What's wrong with her?" Dawn asked.

"She's just worried, Bit," Spike answered as he pulled his duster on.

"She didn't look worried when she ran down here," Giles observed, "she looked devastated. Please, Spike, if you know something about Joyce's whereabouts…"

"Joyce is fine," Spike assured them as he opened the door. "They're both fine. They're going to be fine."

"Are you trying to convince us or yourself, Spike?" Xander asked. "Because from where I'm standing, things to not look fine."

Spike paused in the doorway. "You'll have to ask Buffy when I bring her home."

"When will you be…

~*~

back, Giles read aloud, but you have to come back. Now. She's killing herself, Rupert, and she's going to take everybody down with her. She needs your help. She's hurting Dawn.

Giles read and reread the letter, confronted with the fact that he had been doing his damnest to deny every since Buffy had come back.

She had changed. Beyond recognition, and maybe beyond repair. But he had no idea how bad it was, and if Spike's short, scrawled note was to be believed, it would only get much, much worse. He had left because he honestly believed she needed to become an adult, be pushed out of the nest. But he understood that it was too soon. He had pushed her too hard.

Not trusting Spike's authority on the matter, he attempted to contact Dawn. Every time he called though, Buffy answered and informed him coldly that Dawn was grounded, or indisposed. He tried to contact Xander, but he was not very forthcoming. He tried to minimize the damage, and carefully avoided stating outright that Buffy had done anything wrong or hurt anybody. But the third time Giles called, Xander admitted that both he and Anya had been on the wrong end of Buffy's fist.

And it had only gotten worse after Spike left. According to Xander and Willow, that's when she really lost control. Giles didn't know if it was because she missed him, or because he wasn't there any more to bare the brunt of the abuse. Either way, he had a moral responsibility to all of them to get back to Sunnydale.

So only a few weeks after he settled into his new apartment, he packed up and flew back to California. He armed himself with powerful magicks for protection and binding spells, knowing full well that if his Slayer was truly out of control, he wouldn't be able to subdue her himself. And after his discussions with Xander and Willow, and his lack of discussion with Dawn, he knew this could very well be the case.

His first stop in Sunnydale was not the Summers' residence. He didn't want Buffy to know immediately that he was back. He needed to gather more information. The note he received, the fact that Spike was frightened of her, had sent shivers down his spine, and he needed to be fully prepared.

The children he found at the Magic Box were not the children he left behind. They all scurried around the shop, jumping, frightened. Xander sported a bruise on his left cheek, and Dawn's hair was cut very short. Giles had never seen her wear such conservative clothes, and there wasn't even a ghost of a smile around her eyes.

"What's going on here?" Giles asked softly when nobody noticed him, and they all jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Does Buffy know you're here?" Willow asked quickly.

"Not yet. Is Buffy here?"

"No," Xander answered. "She's running errands. She should be back in a few hours." From the tone of his voice, Giles could tell this was not something the younger man was looking forward to.

"What's going on?" Giles repeated.

"We messed up," Willow admitted softly. "We did something wrong. She's…she's wrong."

"Has she been hurting you?"

Everybody averted their eyes. They were cowed, and too ashamed to admit it, even if they did need his help.

"You have to tell me what's going on," he prompted gently, "or I can't help."

"Nobody can help," Dawn said bitterly. "Spike tried, and look what happened to him."

"What did happen to Spike?" Giles inquired.

Dawn met his eyes, her baby blues bleak and awash with tears she didn't dare let fall. "She beat him within an inch of his life, and he ran away."

"Don't be overdramatic Dawn…" Xander started.

"There was a stake wound. In his chest. I saw it when I brought him blood. She missed the heart on purpose," Dawn explained, dully.

Giles shifted, uncomfortable. "Does anybody know what's driving her to these…extremes?"

"She wants control," Anya stated. "She doesn't have any control, so she's using her super strength to control all of us. And even with Willow's magic, there's not much we can do about it."

He could always count on Anya to lay it on the table. He smiled at her, thankfully. Ok, they had a starting point. "Willow, how much research have you done on the spell you used."

"As much as I could," she informed him, "I have a lot of notes."

"I'll need to look at those, to see if something failed. Maybe there really is a part of her missing." Willow stiffened at the suggestion, clearly offended, but Giles didn't have time to mollify her. "She may have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, which is something that can be treated, if she agrees to it."

"That's the thing," Xander said, "how can we make her agree to getting treated."

"We can't," Giles admitted, "Buffy is going to have to realize that she need….

~*~

…help. She needed help ten years ago, and she needed help now. The therapist that the Council had provided her worked wonders once she allowed her in, but she stopped going to therapy over a year ago. She stopped going when the therapist insisted that Buffy talk about Spike, claiming that after eight years, she had to face those demons.


But Buffy hadn't been ready to talk about that aspect of her life. Even after all that time had passed, and now she regretted that decision. Maybe if she had, they wouldn't all be in this mess.

"There you are," Spike said softly, behind her. She spun around to face him, ready to tell him to go away, but once she saw him, all she wanted to do was throw herself in his arms. Couldn't he make everything better?

"Yep, you found me."

"You didn't need to run away like that."

"I can't stand what I've become…"

"A strong, capable, loving woman and mother?"

"That's not what I meant. I can't…can't control these things, Spike. Not as well as I'd like."

Spike grabbed her hand and led her across the cemetery to a large crypt. He pulled her behind it, and forced her to sit down. "Bit of privacy back here," he explained, sitting beside her.

"Not too many people roaming the graveyards after dark, Spike."

"Buffy we need to have an honest conversation, or we'll never get anywhere. You won't get your daughter and I won't get my soul anchored."

"Right," she agreed quickly. "I can do that."

Spike arched his eyebrow, "Is that right?"

"I can have an honest conversation," she said defensively. "Start talking."

Spike sat in silence for several seconds, unsure of where to begin. Finally he asked, "What can't you control?"

"Myself, Spike. I hit you when you make me angry, what happens when Joyce makes me mad? Am I going to haul off and pop her in the nose?"

"Have you ever wanted to?" Spike asked.

"No, never! But still…"

"Buffy," Spike said gently, "You're a good mum, and Joyce loves you very much. You would never hurt her, and in your heart, you know that."

She nodded, but she still looked miserable. "How is your nose?"

"It's fine. I heal fast."

"And how long did it take you to heal from that stake wound?" Buffy asked. "How long did it take for your teeth to grow back?" She raised her voice with each question, until she nearly shouted, "How long did it take to drag yourself out of your crypt, broken and beaten, Spike?"

"A few weeks," he answered mildly.

"Spike, I'm so sorry." She took a deep breath, "I know this doesn't justify what I did, but I was going though a very rough time. There were complications…with the magic that Willow used to bring me back. Also, my therapist thought that I was suffering Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and acting out."

"What was wrong with the magic?" Spike asked quietly.

"Willow called forth the Warrior of the People. That's only a part of who I am."

"So what? The part that makes you Buffy wasn't there? You're soul?"

Buffy shook her head, "No, I had my soul and everything else. But I wasn't balanced, or something. I never quite understood it. But the magic couldn't fix me. I had to spend a lot of time in therapy."

Spike raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Can't imagine you in…"

~*~

"…therapy?" Buffy asked incredulously.

"Yes, therapy," Giles repeated. "I think it could help you."

"Help me with what?" Buffy demanded, "I don't need therapy."

"Buffy, you're hurting your friends and your sister. Dawn told me you nearly beat Spike to death. Is that true?"

Buffy shifted uncomfortably and looked away. "I wouldn't hurt them if they would just listen to me," she muttered.

"Buffy, I'll be honest. I am extremely worried about you."

"Well, don't be," she said coldly. "I'm fine."

"I'm worried about Dawn too."

"She's fine."

"Buffy, what would Joyce say if she saw the way you treated Dawn and your friends?"

Buffy looked stricken, but only for a moment. "Don't talk about my mother."

"She would be disappointed in you, Buffy."

"You know what? I don't need to take this. I'm leaving."

"You're not going anywhere."

"What are you going to do? Tie me up? You can't keep me here."

Before Buffy could move again, Giles pulled the hypodermic needle out of his jacket pocket and stabbed her quickly in the arm. "I'm so sorry," he muttered as he caught her slumping body.  "I just want to help…"

~*~

"…you," Buffy admitted. "I stopped going when she asked me about our relationship. I wasn't ready to talk about it, it hurt too much. I just felt so…raw."

"Do you think that was a good idea?"

She laughed bitterly, "No. I was just being avoid-o girl again."

"You could always go back," he suggested.

She nodded, "It wasn't a big deal when I quit because I felt great about myself and everything. I didn't realize I needed more help."

During the course of the conversation, Buffy moved closer to Spike until she was leaning against him, her head resting on his shoulder. Her hand was on his knee, and he idly caressed it while she talked.

They continued speaking in low voices. Buffy allowed the floodgates to open, and before she knew it, she was pouring everything out. Spike listened attentively and responded occasionally as she explained the pain and confusion she went through, especially before he left. Her confession was mingled with tears and apologies, and he patiently waited for her to speak, never rushing or interrupting her.

And as Buffy talked, they both realized how comfortable they were with each other. Every since Spike had returned to her life, Buffy was uncertain of how to act and talk around him. Who knew that the truth would be the best option? And Spike had been confused by her uncertainty, but the more she explained, the better he understood.

When her story was finally finished, neither spoke for a very long time, both consumed with their own thoughts of the past and their possible future.

"Do you want me to do your hair?" Buffy asked suddenly.

"Yeah."