Twenty One: Forgiveness
"Spike?" Dawn cautiously let herself in. Her face broke into a wide smile when she saw her big-brother figure. Dropping the blood packs, she rushed towards him. "Spike!" She threw her arms around him.
He was sitting on the gurney. If his heart could, it would've leapt at the sight of his bit. He held her back at arm's length, "Hey, nibblet."
"Spike! You're back. I'm so happy." Then she punched him in the shoulder. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"Ow!" He rubbed the spot where she had hit him. "Bloody hell, bit." She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for his answer. He smirked and bucked her chin up. "C'mon, bit, don't look at me that way. You know I can't stand those big, puppy dog Summers women eyes."
She tried to hide a smile, biting the corners of her mouth. "You're not sweet talking your way out of this one, Spike. I won't fall for that, I am not my sister."
Spike had to grin at that remark. "I was thinking of you, bit. And big sis. It was my turn to be the hero."
Dawn's eyes softened, "Oh Spike!" She flung herself at him again. "You're always the hero. My hero."
Spike swore up and down that had he been any happier he would've burst into a million little pieces. He chuckled to himself. He definitely didn't qualify as the Big Bad anymore. He held onto Dawn a little longer, before she pulled away to pick up the blood packs she had brought.
"Here," she said thrusting them into his lap. "Buffy told me to bring these to you."
"Where is she?"
"She told me that she had some things to do. I can take you to her room," She let him rise to his feet. She snickered.
"What?"
"Nothing. You just look really silly in that hospital gown."
He gave her a Look. "Not a word, bit. Or I'll pop your head off," he threatened. Trying to regain what dignity he still had. "I mean it."
"Whatever," they started walking. The whole way there, she didn't say anything about his hand being on her shoulder as they walked.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Hello?" Faith picked up the phone.
"Faith, don't hang up."
She sighed. "What?"
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"Leaving."
She sighed again, growing more irritated by the minute. "I told you it was okay. I don't care."
"You don't?"
"That's right, Perry Mason, I don't. If you don't want to be a part of my life, I can handle that. It's not like I need you," She walked over to a dresser drawer and pulled out a ripped shirt. She held it against her cheek. Putting up a front was an automatic for her. She didn't even have to think about it. A wall just went up. "Aren't you mad at me?"
'I'm pissed at you, dumbass', she thought. "Nah," she said. "What's to be mad at? I've been dumped before." 'Liar' she thought. "Shut up".
"What?"
"Nothing."
"So, you're saying you're fine? You'll be okay?"
"Shit, yeah."
"Then why are you holding my shirt?" Faith spun around. Robin was standing in the door way holding a cell phone. "Surprise." He said. She ran to him and jumped into his arms wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, kissing him. Then she hit him on the side of the head.
"What the hell is your problem?!"
"You." He said. She glared at him and he shook his head. "I got as far as Las Vegas and came back."
"What'd you tell your cousin?"
"I, uh, vaguely explained to her that my girlfriend was pregnant and I couldn't leave her," He said.
"Oh," Faith looked down, then looked back up at him and grinned coyly. "You called me your girlfriend."
"Did I say girlfriend?" He asked. "I meant 'pain in my side'." She reached down and grabbed him. "Oof! Or pain there." She smiled again and kissed him. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"
"Nope," she led him to the bed. "You have a lot of apologizing to do."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Buffy walked into her room, not noticing that anyone was in there. She threw her bag on her bed. Spike emerged from the bathroom. "Buffy?"
She spun around. "Spike!" He was bare-chested and the ripples of his muscular abs were as hard as ever. It took every ounce of strength not to throw him down and kiss him. "What are you doing here?"
"Had to take a shower, love," he replied. "I was starting to smell a bit rank." He had hoped for a smile, but she just frowned. He looked at the bag and the few possessions in it. He cocked his head, "You're leaving." It was more a statement than a question.
"I have to." She said turning around before he looked at her with the expression he wore now.
He stared at the back of her head, understanding that she was trying to do the strong thing. Leave him and be the slayer. He shrugged, "Right then. When are we leaving?"
"Not 'we', Spike. You can't go."
"And why the bloody hell not?"
Buffy sighed, she couldn't believe what she was going to say. Turning to him she said, "Because I have to move on. I need to go sort things out, take care of Dawn, find all the new slayers..."
"Rot." He said setting his jaw. "Those are excuses. They're not gonna work with me."
"They have to because it's the only thing keeping me from letting you come," She replied.
He shook his head, "Let me tell you something, Buffy. You can keep convincing yourself that you're doing the right thing, but you'll never convince me. I know you." He placed his hand over her heart. She inhaled sharply. His touch was cool, like she had remembered. She swore he could've frozen her rapidly beating heart, if he wanted to. "I can feel your pain. It's the same as mine."
She closed her eyes. She wanted to let him in. She needed to. He was there for her every time she needed someone and she was glad that it was him. Even if she didn't show it. She didn't know what she was going to do without him. He hadn't been gone long enough for it to sink in that he was gone. And now, she was going to let him go. "No," she finally said. "I'm leaving and you're staying. That's just how it has to be." He looked at her, pained.
"That's it then?"
"That's how it has to be."
He shook his head. "You're wrong, Buffy."
"I know I am," she whispered.
He heard her and turned her around. His hands placed firmly on her shoulders. "See? Then how can you say we need to move on?"
"Because we do, Spike." She shoved him off her. He fell onto the bed "You need to stay here and figure out your soul and I need to go and help the new slayers." She was repeating herself, but it just wasn't registering through his thick, vampire skull.
"We can do that together, Buffy," He was pleading now. "You and me. We need each other." He took her hand and looked up at her. "I'm not letting you leave. Not this time."
She looked down at him, trying not to cry and give in. Her heart was telling her to let him come, but her brain, which was also telling her to let him come, still had a little smidgen of logic left. She cleared her throat, forcing the tears away, "I'm sorry," was all she said. He let out a scoff, looking at her with those deep sensual, gray-blue eyes, pleading her. When he realized that she wasn't going to change her mind, he hung his head down. She let him rest the top of his head against her stomach, until she realized that he was shaking from crying.
"Spike..."
"No, love," He said not looking up. "Don't say anything. I don't think I can take anymore of your fodder."
"Just listen, okay? I ripped you out of heaven, just like they did to me. I'm never going to be able to forgive myself for that. And neither are you," she said.
"You're mad. Certifiably, mad, Buffy. You can't think for a second that I was in heaven."
"Weren't you?"
"No," he stood up and brushed back her hair. "I wasn't in heaven because I wasn't with you. You're all I need to be happy. To be a man." He told her
"You were a man," she said. "And I took that away from you. I used Angel to do it too."
"I don't care. I'd rather be dead and with you than alive and without," he said.
She sniffled, "Is this Spike or William the Poet talking?"
"Both," he said, looking deep into her big green eyes. "But you're still going aren't you?"
"Yes, but you'll be with me."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Willow watched Angel pace back and forth. He was mad, that much was obvious. Mad at her, at what she had done. "Angel..."
"Willow, don't talk to me."
"We have to talk about it Angel. You have to understand it."
"You killed Cordelia. I understand that."
She grabbed his arm. He stared at her. "Listen, Angel. I'm sorry. But I did what I did, because she asked me to. It was the last piece of the puzzle and Cordelia knew it." She explained.
He shrugged off her grip. "How'd she know? Why didn't she tell me?"
"She couldn't, Angel. She loved you."
"She loved me?"
Willow raised her eyebrows, "You didn't know?"
He sat down, "We were supposed to be meeting at the beach. But she didn't make it. Then Connor threw me in the ocean. So much had happened by the time she came back, I didn't even know how to act around her. She was still Cordy, but then she wasn't. Something was different."
"She was a Higher Power."
"I know."
"That made it hard for her to adjust. She watched you Angel. She saw you at the bottom of the ocean and couldn't do anything about it. It made her feel helpless."
Helpless. The same way he felt thinking of her in the coma. But she wasn't in the coma anymore, she was gone. He was upset with Willow, but all Willow had done was free her. She didn't have to live like that anymore. He should be happy for Cordelia, but he couldn't bring himself to it. "I get it, Willow."
"Do you?"
He nodded. "And thank you. I'm mad still. But thank you."
She smiled at him, remorseful. "You're welcome, Angel."
