The Prince and his Children
Part 1 – Dreams and Nightmares
Chapter 2 – Spike and Willow
Disclaimer: Joss, you left your toys out. I do not own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Angel. And I have received no profit from the writing of this story. It is for entertainment purposes.
Summery: Crossover with Angel - S6/S3 - Buffy is dead, Faith is in jail, the Scoobies are devastated, and AI is barely holding it together - And now the Council has gotten involved - Oh dear! This will be an epic (or at least that's what I have planned) so quite a few pairings.
A/N: I would like to thank my co-author, Lisa Collins, as well as my beta readers Amanda Brown, D.M. Evans, and HonorH. Chapter 2 was loaded on July 8, 2003, reloaded on July 15, 2003. I have received questions on both the summary and explaining the dream – The council will make its appearance next chapter, and we'll learn the nature of its involvement – don't worry, that chapter is done, just waiting to hear back on that chapter as well. Also, I meant to thank both Joss Whedon for writing The Gift (of which I used parts in last chapter) as well as Douglas Petrie for parts in this chapter from Fool for Love. Also, I'd like to thank Buffyworld.com for their transcripts.
Chapter 2 – Spike and Willow
'She's gonna be here any minute, and I have to have it together – pull it together you ponce' Spike thought as he paced back and forth. "Bollocks – Spike, there is no reason to panic, and you can't lose it now – if Willow isn't convinced that you wanna keep helping, no-one else will be" Spike shouted to himself, as he tried not to panic. He needed to make certain Willow trusted him when it came to Dawn, and honoring a promise – a promise that would consume him for the rest of his existence.
He dreamt about her again last night – in fact, he had dreamt about all of them. The Chinese one, Nikki…. His blond savior. And suddenly the tears started again. He remembered the night Buffy had come to him injured, and suddenly he could hear her voice.
"Don't even start, Spike."
"What do you want?"
"Slayers. You killed two of them."
"I did."
"You're gonna show me how."
When he told her about his slayer kills, he had been more arrogant than ever – those had been pre-eminent kills by anyone's standards, and he had always wanted to see if knowing what ultimately caused a slayers death would somehow improve slayers and make them even more of a challenge, or perhaps more intense. His first slayer – he had never equaled that rush. The fight with Nikki had been incredible, and every fight he had with Buffy – it was a bit like a quickie with Dru. But that night, what was practically a 3-way between Dru, himself, and his Oriental pleasure, with all the planning of a major festival. He had always thought that, on the night at some point in the future, when he and the slayer consummated their love for each other, after some huge fight, that knowledge not only would keep her alive, but would carry him beyond that fateful night during the Boxer Rebellion. He had always imagined it would be glorious, a truly wonderful dream.
And now he knew it was, had been, and forever would be ash – the blonde Slayer was dead, but more important, he knew there was nothing about death to take pride in. And especially the death he caused. Whatever else you could say about the death the slayers caused, it still, at the end of the day, was about helping people. His killing had always been about hurting, and pain, and torment. And he had enjoyed each and every one of the deaths and tortures. And there was nothing to take pride in with all of that.
And now, having contemplated that, Spike was now crying – bawling like a child. As he sat there, his face in his hands, the tears streaming down his cheeks, he caught the scent of Willow, and with a start realized she was there. He heard a knock at the door
"Spike?"
'Bloody hell, she's here' Spike thought 'she can't see me like this.' He wiped his face quickly, and then noticed a large wet spot on his shirt – his tears. He quickly took the shirt off, and looking for a hiding spot and seeing the open cellar, Spike tossed it in.
"Come in Red," Spike hollered. He tried to put on his usual scowl.
"Jeez, Spike what took you so long?", Willow asked, as she walked into his crypt. She then got a good look at him.
"Why aren't you wearing a shirt, and …. Spike, my god, you're a mess. What's happened to you?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Your face – it's covered in dust, and mud – Tell me you haven't been like this since ", here she faltered," since the event. That you are keeping yourself clean, and what not"
"What? No, I", Spike looked down at his hands, trying to think of some lie It was then that he realized that when he had wiped his face, he must have wiped the dirt and grime from his hands onto his face. He knew appearances, metaphorically and literally, were important to the Scoobies, especially Willow. It was then that Willow saw the open cellar, and a look of horror spread across her face.
"You're not doing another shrine, Spike" Willow stated. She stood up, her attitude suddenly a lot more menacing. Spike knew he had to say something.
"No. Never. No, I took that down. That's been down since, well, when she found out about it. Since that night." Spike looked over at the cellar, stifled a tear before it could come, and look back at Willow. "I took that down the next day. No, I was just cleaning it up, trying .."
"Cleaning?"
"Ye-Yea. Cleaning, and trying to figure what I want to do with it. What with everything that's been happening, well, I haven't done anything with it since the night with the Slayer and Dru and Harmony. It had to be done sometime. And it's better to do this … than think about", and here Spike stopped, and looked Willow straight in the eyes. And they both knew he was talking about Buffy's recent death. They sat in silence for a moment. Spike then stood up "Listen, Will, give me a second to clean up, and put a shirt on, and then we'll talk" Willow nodded, and Spike walked over to a coffin, opened it and pulled out a towel, and wiped off his face as best he could. He then went and fetched a shirt from his dresser, and then sat back down, across from Willow.
"So what did you want to talk to me about, Spike?"
"Listen, the night of the big battle, that night, um, you know" Spike said
"The night Buffy died", Willow interrupted.
'Bloody hell' Spike thought, 'She said her name. Can't lose it now'
"Yea," Spike said, with forced calm, "that night. She asked me to do something, and I promised I'd do it." Willow's eyes, which had been wandering around the crypt, shot back at Spike
"She asked you to do something?" A combination of confusion, fear, and horror flashed onto her face. Spike instantly realized she thought he might be trying to play some angle.
"No, nothing like that – she asked me to watch and protect Dawn – until the end. And I intend to do that. But I'd rather not have to do it while keeping myself hidden from you lot – we can be useful to each other. Xander can still loathe me as much as he bloody well chooses, in fact you all can, but I intend to keep that promise, and would rather not have to worry that a stake will come from the direction I am suppose to be protecting." While he said this, Willow's face returned to its calm, understanding state. "Believe me," Spike said, "I can understand you not wanting me around, but the Bit was important to Buffy, and I can be very good at protecting her."
"I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions, Spike. It's just been a hard week. Anya's just getting out of the hospital – she was there longer than I was after my junior year. And then, Dawn"
"Dawn? What's wrong with her?"
"Its okay Spike – well, as okay as we can expect – her nightmares returned full force a couple of nights back. I think she'll do better with Tara and me permanently living there. But she's taken to sleeping in Buffy's bed, when she has nightmares like this. I wish she could talk to someone else about this, with more psychological experience than I or anyone else has. I suspect its more than just Buffy dying that is causing her problems. You know, her time on the tower, her mother's death, the revelations about her existence. But…."
"Who would believe it?"
"Yea" They sat in quiet silence for a few minutes.
"Bit's not the only one having dreams", Spike said quietly
"Huh?"
'Oh shit, did I say that out loud?', thought Spike "Uh, nothing."
"No, Spike, what are you talking about?"
Spike looked up at her "Dawn's not the only one dreaming – every night, I dream about the tower, about how I could've been better, somehow. Or I dream about how I failed her, and I also dream about my past – except, this time, I'm on the receiving end of the pain and torture, not the one doing it."
Willow looked at him, and then rose from her seat, and started walking around the crypt. "Well, listen Spike, you deserve some honest truth, after what has happened, and what you've told me." Spike's heart sank upon hearing these words, and he looked downcast. Willow continued uninterrupted, "Spike, the truth is, I don't think any of us can trust you 100% - You've tried to kill us all repeatedly, and at one point tried to start a war, no less. And you've always said that the Big Bad would comeback when you got your chip out. Perhaps if there was something more fundamental, like how Angel has a soul, we could – but you yourself has not changed – you've only had your actions limited." Here she paused, and looked thoughtful. "That said, 3 things prove that you deserve a certain amount of trust when it comes to Buffy and by extension Dawn – the night Glory tried to torture you, your constant attempts to help Dawn, and, well, that other night…." There was a long pause, and Spike sat there in pain, looked again at willow, and knew he was not alone. Willow wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. "Anyway, I'll speak to the rest of the Gang – we might be able to figure out some sort of compromise. That's the best I can offer right now Spike," she finished, and looked him right in the eye.
Spike looked up at her, and realized that there was indeed some hope. "Well, I suppose that under the circumstances, that is really the best I can hope for." Spike stood up himself now, walked over to the dresser, picked up his cigarettes, and proceeded to light up. He took a long drag, and turn to Willow "Anyway, Red, thanks, for everything."
"You're welcome, Spike. I'll let you know what we decide. Understand, whatever we do decide, you'll have to live, or rather, unlive with it." And with those parting words, Willow walked out the door.