What is Choice?
By Melissa(dettiot@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG-13 mostly, with one NC-17 epilogue.
Spoilers: Through Chosen.
Author's Note: Spike/Buffy, but only kinda. This story is a bit odd. Also posted on my website(http://lostinwonderland.org/buffy/fanfic.html).
Chapter title comes from the song "Sympathy" by the Goo Goo Dolls.
Chapter Nine: When All Your Luck's Run Out On You
Buffy slowly entered her apartment. It was Friday night, and before, she would have been getting ready to see Will, or making preparations to drive down to San Diego. Instead, her whole weekend loomed before her. Xander was wrapped up with some new girlfriend, and Willow was interviewing for a job in Chicago. Dawn was working, she thought, so it looked like it would be Buffy Alone Time tonight.
Alone time sucked.
Buffy moved about the apartment, straightening up a few things before she made herself some dinner. Salad and a sandwich wasn't anything special, but she made herself eat. Too often in the past, she had let her emotional upheaval get in the way of her health, and she wasn't going to go down that road again. She ate and flipped through the day's mail and the newspaper, but her mind wasn't distracted from her concerns.
It had been a month since she had called Will, or Spike, or whoever he was. Calling him had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. She still wasn't quite sure where she had scraped up enough courage to do it. But she had meant what she had said to him. He could doubt that she was telling him the truth, doubt her mental stability, but she couldn't have him doubt her feelings.
She closed her eyes in sadness when a chain of memories unrolled in her mind. Seeing Spike preparing for his death, and his reaction to her declaration of love. Running from him, knowing that she was leaving him to die. Standing at the edge of the crater, as her memories were erased and she thought only of herself, and she smiled, the bitch that she was.
Buffy sniffed, her eyes opening. Of course, the memories with Will were just as bad, if not worse. The look on his face when she had said "I love you," how happy she had made him. The kisses they had shared, the way she had felt so complete. And then, the horror of reading his book and feeling betrayed. And the other look on his face, complete surprise and sadness.
It had been forty-one days since she had seen him last. Twenty-nine since she had talked to him last. It seemed like she was spending her life counting the days, wondering how many days would pass before she could live again. Because she was scared that only Will coming back would let her live again, and that didn't seem to be in her future. So she faced the prospect of hundreds and thousands of days without him.
She realized that her tears were dripping on the newspaper, and she pushed all the papers and the dishes from in front of her. She dropped her head onto her arms, and let the tears fall from her eyes. She couldn't even sob, she was so exhausted from her sadness.
The sound of a slamming door made her jerk her head up, surprised to see Dawn walk through the doorway. Dawn took one look at her sister, and said, "Okay, that's it."
Buffy watched in surprise as Dawn moved about the kitchen. She opened the freezer and pulled forth two cartons of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and grabbed two spoons out of the silverware drawer. Dawn came over to Buffy, and handed her a container of New York Super Fudge Chunk and a spoon. "Come," Dawn ordered. Buffy, feeling too dazed to argue, followed her sister into the living room.
"Sit down," Dawn said, pointing at the sofa as she detoured down the hall. Dawn came back, holding a box of tissues, to see Buffy already digging into the ice cream. Dawn joined her on the sofa, and for a few moments, the sisters merely spooned ice cream up and looked at each other.
Dawn finally stopped eating, leaving her spoon in her Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup. She said, "All right. I think it's time, don't you, Buffy?"
Buffy pulled her knees up, and set the ice cream next to her. "Yeah, I think so. At the very least, I'm getting some ice cream out of this."
Dawn didn't respond to the jibe, and Buffy sighed. "I'm warning you now, this is a really long story." Dawn nodded, and Buffy continued. "Once upon a time, there was one girl in the world, chosen to fight the vampires--"
"I know this story!" Dawn said, bouncing a little.
Buffy grinned, despite her sadness. "Hush. Anyway, in this story, you have your vampire slayer, named Buffy. And you have your vampire, named Spike. And one day they meet . . ."
**
Buffy gazed around the room. Tissues and empty ice cream cartons littered the couch and the floor. Dawn still had tears streaming down her cheeks, but Buffy felt calmer than she had in days.
'Wow, who would have thought talking could make you feel better?' Buffy thought ironically, with a touch of amusement. She shook her head, and reached out to hug Dawn.
"I know it's a lot to take in. Trust me, it's taken me this long to get everything figured out, and I still think I've only scratched the surface. I mean, note my lack of progress in figuring out how to talk to Will."
Dawn sniffed, and grabbed a tissue to wipe her face. "So you know you love him?"
Buffy smiled sadly. "Oh, yeah. I don't care what his name is-William the Bloody or William Smythe. His past as Spike is part of him, but I'm still gonna love him."
"So what are you gonna do?"
Buffy sighed. "I don't know, Dawn. I called him about a month ago, and we talked about his book. I had kinda hoped that we could start talking, you know? I mean, I wasn't going to blurt out on the phone, 'Hey, you used to be a hundred-year-old vampire who fell so in love with me, you got a soul and helped save the world, and thus died.' I don't think that's very good phone etiquette."
"But since then?" Dawn asked.
"Nothing. He hasn't called, and I don't know if I can call him again. I mean, I keep making the moves, and he seems open, but then, nothing."
Dawn rolled her eyes at her sister. "You called him once."
"Twice!" Buffy interjected.
"A phone call where he breaks up with you does not count as calling to make amends. You were calling to fix the fight that first time. And the second phone call, you were all business, talking about the book, making sure he didn't hate you. You still haven't made the crucial 'calling to fix the breakup' call. You haven't called to find out if he loves you."
"What in the world are you babbling about? You've been reading too much Cosmo," Buffy said, wrinkling her nose. "Or listening to way too much Stevie Wonder, which is just sad at your age."
Dawn narrowed her eyes. "At any point during the last phone call, did you say, 'I love you'? 'I still want to be with you'? 'I'm miserable without you'?"
Buffy squirmed a bit. "Well, not exactly. But he should have been able to tell!"
"Buffy, what was the first rule about boys that you told me?"
"Um, always make him pay for the first date?" Buffy said weakly.
Dawn groaned. "No, Little Miss Amnesiac. 'Boys are stupid. They don't know how you feel until you tell them, and they don't know how they feel until you tell them.' Now, with that as our starting point, have you told him how you feel? No. Have you told him how he feels? No."
"Well, when you put it that way," Buffy griped.
Dawn got up, and went to the table where the cordless phone was located. "Buffy, I'm telling you. You've been sitting here waiting for him to show up with roses and chocolates, proclaiming his undying love for you, no matter what. You've never waited for anything in your life--you've always gone after it, and gotten it, whether it was a guy or a Chirago demon. So call him, and get him back." She carried the phone over, and held it out to Buffy.
Buffy stared at the phone, and then looked up at Dawn. "What if he doesn't want to come back?"
Dawn's face softened, but her voice was firm. "At least then you won't be waiting anymore. Life's too short to wait."
Buffy took the phone from Dawn, and held it in her hands, just staring at it for a moment. It was scary how much importance she was placing on just a phone call. 'You're probably going to get his machine,' she thought to herself. 'Because he's out having fun with a girl who isn't crazy, who can give him what he needs.'
Just as she was about to start punching in his number, the phone rang. Buffy jumped in her seat, and she stared at Dawn. "It's him, I know it!"
Dawn rolled her eyes. "That only happens in the movies." Buffy didn't make any motions to answer the phone, and Dawn said, "Oh, for Pete's sake," before she grabbed the phone away from Buffy. "Hello?" she said.
Dawn's eyes widened, and she glanced at Buffy. Buffy felt her heart speed up, and she felt like she was going to throw up.
"Hi, Will," Dawn said, her voice guarded. "Yes, she's here." Dawn pulled the phone away from her ear, and started handing it to Buffy, but then pulled it back to her ear. "Listen, you jerk, if you hurt her, I promise you, I know people who can make your life an utter vale of misery. And I'm one of them. Understand?"
Whatever Will said obviously had satisfied Dawn, because she handed the phone to Buffy, and then went into her room, closing the door behind her.
Buffy took a deep breath and lifted the phone to her ear. "Hi."
"Hi."
Buffy nearly sighed. His voice was just so . . . good. Hearing it float across the phone lines to her ears was like listening to heaven. She somehow managed to make her mouth work, despite the feelings swirling through her. "Haven't heard from you in a while."
He cleared his throat, and said, "Um, I know. And I'm sorry about that. Just . . . something came up, and before I knew it, weeks had gone by."
She didn't know how she felt. She thought he sounded a bit ashamed, but she thought she also heard excitement in his voice.
"How's your mom doing?" she asked, mentally shuddering as she fell back onto "safe" topics to keep the conversation going.
"She's good, really good. I talked to her yesterday, and she's planning to come down and visit me soon. How's Dawn?"
"Other than making threats, she's been doing well. She's all set to start at at UCLA in the fall."
"Still planning on creating a whole new system for landscape design?"
"Yes," Buffy said, trying not to scream in frustration that they were talking about her sister and not them. "I can't watch Ground Force on BBCAmerica without listening to her numerous critiques."
Will laughed a bit, and she felt her heart shriveling up. 'Oh, please please please, tell me you love me,' she thought.
Suddenly, she couldn't take this anymore. "Will, I don't think you called me so we could chat about our relatives. I . . . I think you know how I feel. I still feel that way. And if you don't feel the same, or don't think you could feel that way again, please just hang up now and let me get over this."
She bit her lip, knowing that she said too much, but she couldn't bear this agony of not knowing.
She could hear him breathing, and finally, after ten seconds that felt like ten years, he said, "I can't tell you, Buffy."
"What?" she said, shock permeating her voice. "You can't tell me? What the hell does that mean?"
"Look, I can't. Not yet. All right? I think this talking on the phone thing isn't working for us. I'm coming up to LA next weekend. Could we go out to dinner?"
"Are you sure?" Buffy asked, trying to reign in the hostility that was masking her fear.
"Yes. Can I pick you up on Saturday at six?"
"That's fine," Buffy said.
"Good," he said, sounding a bit relieved. "Buffy, I know you want more from me. And . . . I want to give you everything I can, but there's just something I have to take care of first. But I'll explain everything on Saturday."
Buffy sighed. "I hope so, Will. Because . . . I can't do this for much longer."
"I know, pet. I'll see you on Saturday."
Buffy hung up the phone, more confused than she'd been before. He couldn't tell her how he felt? What was this mysterious "thing" that was taking up all his attention?
Dawn popped her head out of her room. "So? I don't spy any tears, or hear any angry screams."
"That's because there's no signs for when you're so confused you don't know which end is up," Buffy said wryly, rubbing her hand over her face. "He's taking me out to dinner on Saturday."
Dawn's face lit up. "And?"
"And nothing. I was a big old girl and basically said, 'Oh, please tell me you love me' and he said, and I quote, 'I can't tell you, Buffy.' Kept talking about something going on that he had to take care of first." Buffy shook her head. "And guys say WE'RE confusing."
"But hey, progress--you're going to see him. That's a definite step in the right direction."
"I guess," Buffy said. Then, panic crossed her face, and she looked at Dawn. "What am I gonna wear?"
Dawn looked at Buffy, and in unison, the two girls dashed to Buffy's room to perform an emergency wardrobe inventory.
**
Buffy was sure that some wars had been planned and implemented with less thought and preparation than she'd used for her dinner with Will. She'd spent part of the afternoon in the salon, getting her hair and nails done. She was wearing one of her favorite dresses, one that Will had once said made her look like a mermaid: a pale green dress with spaghetti straps. She wore new earrings and a necklace that her mother had given her. Dawn had contributed a gorgeous clutch that matched her silver sandals perfectly.
In short, she sure hoped he wasn't taking her to KFC for dinner.
"Stop fidgeting," Dawn said. "You look wonderful. He's gonna take one look at you, and after not seeing you for all this time, he's gonna fall head over heels for you."
Buffy stared at her hair in the hall mirror. "Why did I let the hairdresser talk me into highlights? It looks like a four-year-old with Parkinson's applied these."
Dawn pulled her sister away from the mirror, and put her hands on Buffy's shoulders. "Buffy, listen to me. You are a beautiful, caring, intelligent woman. Will would be an idiot if he can't see that. And we both know he's not an idiot. So remember how much you love him, and don't get scared and lash out."
"I never do that."
Dawn merely raised her eyebrow.
"Well, hardly ever," Buffy said. At Dawn's expression of disbelief, Buffy groaned and said, "Fine, fine, I'll remember."
"All of it, Buffy," Dawn said, her face serious.
Buffy smiled softly at her sister. "I'll remember, Dawn. You're the best." She pulled Dawn in for a hug, and once again gave thanks for Dawn's presence in her life.
The doorbell rang, and Buffy's nerves returned in full force. But she closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Then, with a hand squeeze from Dawn, she went and opened the door.
He had bleached his hair. She felt her jaw drop open in surprise, feeling like she was looking at a ghost. Instead of the casual preppy style he'd worn before, now he was all in black: pants, silk shirt, and topping it all off, a leather duster. He stood before her, looking cocky and powerful, yet she could still see those aspects that seemed like Will. She could see his fear and insecurity, shining through the bleach and the attitude.
He might look like Spike. He might act like Will. But she knew she loved him.
She felt tears well up in her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. It was so hard, to see him standing before her, looking so much like Spike, when she was the only person on Earth who knew what Spike looked like. How much goodness Spike had held within himself, how much the world owed him. She didn't understand why he looked different. Her brain was still trying to process the shock of seeing Will's personality clothed in Spike's look. She wondered if it was a sign from the Fates, giving her their blessing.
She stood in the doorway, her hand still on the door, taking it all in. Then, she realized he was standing on the doorstep, waiting for her to either invite him in or step outside. "Oh! Come in."
Will smiled at her. "Thanks. How are you doing?"
"Good, I'm good. How are you?"
Will shuffled his feet. "All right, I guess."
"You changed your hair," Buffy said, before clapping a hand over her mouth.
Will laughed. "Yeah, felt like I needed a change." His eyes locked with hers, and the smile faded from his face. "You look beautiful."
Buffy blushed. "Thank you." She looked around, and realized that Dawn was standing in the hall, watching this scene. "Um, Dawn . . . "
Will lifted his hand. "Hi, Dawn. Remembering your warning."
Dawn nodded. "You should. I like the coat. Buffy, I'll see you later." She walked down the hall, and Buffy nearly raced after her and told her she had to stay, so that Buffy wouldn't do anything stupid.
Buffy took another deep breath. No one was going to be able to fix their problems, except the two of them.
She faced Will. "Shall we?"
Will nodded, and as she walked past him, she felt his hand touch the small of her back briefly. The slight contact sent tingles through her, and she felt her knees weaken.
'Oh, God,' she thought. 'I can forget all the bad stuff when he touches me.'
They were quiet as they walked out of her apartment building and got in his car. She noticed that his car, for once, was clean--before, it had always been littered with cigarette butts, fast food wrappers, and CDs.
She gazed out the window to prevent herself from staring at him. Taking in all the changes that didn't really change him that much. One thing she had realized, in the time away from him, was that Will wasn't that different from Spike. At least, the Spike she had seen at the end: a caring, tender man, but a man through and through. Will wasn't some prissy wimp, soft or ineffectual. He was capable of standing up for himself, and for what he believed in. He had a bit of a temper, and wasn't above being crude to make his point.
All the personality quirks that she loved about him were always there, whether he was Will or Spike. And, there were things about him that drove her crazy, made her want to strangle him. But he wouldn't be him if he didn't drive her out of her mind every once in a while.
At some points during those weeks apart, she had considered telling Will what she had discovered about him. But she couldn't help but fear that there would be a repeat of what happened when she finally had to reveal her past to him. He wouldn't believe her. How could he? It was so completely amazing, to consider the idea that you had been a powerful, century-old vampire who redeemed himself through the power of love. It'd make a great movie, but as reality?
Even more importantly, she wouldn't do that to Will. Give him all that pain and sadness that he wouldn't be able to handle. She couldn't torture him like that.
She moved her shoulders up and down, trying to dispel the feeling of dread she felt. She looked over towards him, and felt a smile blooming on her lips. It was amazing, how just looking at him made her happy.
She realized that he was glancing over at her, and he gave her a quick smile in return. "What's put that smile on your face?" he asked, his voice curious.
"Oh, nothing. Happy non-thoughts."
He shook his head. "Amazing, how you butcher the English language."
"Yes, while you speak the Queen's English, Mr. Sod This."
"Well, I'm sure the Queen says that on occasion," Will retorted, his mouth flashing in a smile.
She smiled back, and said, "So, where are we going?"
"I know this place. Thought it'd be nice--near the water, with great seafood."
Buffy's mind flashed to the restaurant they had eaten at the night they had first made love. She closed her eyes, and tried not to give away her thoughts. "Sounds great."
The rest of the drive was silent, and when they pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant, Buffy nearly sighed with pleasure. The restaurant was small, romantic-looking, and the smells wafting from inside made her mouth water. Will came around and opened her car door, and she smiled at him, impressed with the little gestures he was making. His hand once again rested against her back. As they walked inside, she caught a glimpse of the two of them in a mirror, and she thought, 'We look good together.'
Her confidence renewed, Buffy smiled up at Will and followed the waiter to their table.
**
She didn't feel like smiling anymore.
They had gone through appetizer, salad, and entree, and Will was barely talking to her. She kept grasping for things to talk about, and she'd only get monosyllabic answers out of him. She tried talking about politics, new movies, and about some of her stranger customers. Nothing seemed to get him talking.
She sighed as dessert was placed in front of her. Chocolate cake. Just like last time. She wanted to cry over how different that night had been from this one.
Buffy picked up her fork, and stabbed her cake. She shoveled a piece into her mouth, and looked over at Will. He was toying with his cake, his attention focused on the table. Frustrated beyond belief, Buffy dropped her fork on her plate.
"Will, look at me."
At the sound of her voice, his head whipped up, and she felt herself lose focus for a moment when his bluer-than-blue eyes locked with hers. She gave herself a quick shake, and pressed forward. "I thought we were having dinner together so we could talk. But you've barely said two words to me." She paused, and felt her voice tremble a little when she said, "Has this been a mistake?"
Will sighed, and reached across the table. His fingers rested on the top of her hand, and she automatically turned her hand over so he could wrap his hand around hers. "I'm sorry. It's just that every time I've tried to say something, it sounds so trite and stupid in my head."
"I know how that feels," she said softly. "Why do you think I've been babbling all evening? I'm trying to find the right words."
Will gave her a slight grin. "Writer, pet. Words are supposed to come easily to me."
"That can't be the case all the time. You must have had writer's block sometimes," Buffy said.
"Yeah, once or twice," Will admitted.
"So how'd you work through it?"
"Lots of staring out the window, trying to avoid the computer."
A silence fell between them, their hands their only connection. Buffy gazed at their hands, and finally said, "What if we say the thing we regret most, about what happened between us? You go first."
She could see Will's throat contract as he swallowed, and he said, in a thick voice, "What I said to you, that morning when you called me. Especially the last thing I said." He looked at her, his eyes sincere. "You didn't deserve that, love."
Buffy bit her lip, her heart thudding at his admission. "It was how you felt at the time, Will. Even I know I came off as a complete nut, not to mention the Empress of Bad Timing."
Will shook his head. "Still doesn't mean I don't regret it, Buffy."
She was silent for a moment, and then said, "Not telling you about my past. We had known each other long enough, and with the . . . feelings I have for you, there's no excuse for me to keep that from you. I guess I didn't realize how much it affects me still. Your book clued me in to that one."
Will nodded, his eyes focused on their hands. He brought his other hand over, and began tracing circles on the back of her hand. She closed her eyes, and a breathy sigh issued from her lips.
She opened her eyes to find his gaze roving over her face, taking in every detail. Suddenly, he said, "Do you want to go take a walk on the beach?"
Buffy nodded, and he flashed a quick smile at her as he called the waiter over for their check.
After paying the bill, Will rose from his chair, and helped her out of hers. He took her hand in his as they walked out of the restaurant and headed towards the beach. Once they hit the sand, Will dropped his coat, which he had been carrying over his arm, on the sand, and kicked off his shoes. She followed his lead, leaving her sandals and tucking her purse under his coat. She looked at him for a moment, and then extended her hand towards him. He grasped it, and she couldn't help smiling at him.
They walked along the shoreline for a few moments, heading away from the lights and noise. The waves and their feet pushing against the sand were soon the only sounds.
Buffy felt happiness swelling up inside her like a bubble. She thought this was going to be so hard, full of tears and uncomfortable moments. But they seemed to fit back together, like a key into a lock. Their steps slowed, and soon, they stopped. Buffy stared at the ocean, and then turned to look at Will. She smiled at him again, wanting him to know that his presence was all she needed to be happy.
The smile that flashed across his face was like the sun breaking through a cloud. He took a step towards her, and lifted his other hand towards her face. Her eyes fluttered shut when he rubbed his thumb across her cheek.
"Buffy?" he said in a quiet voice. "Can I kiss you?"
She opened her eyes, and tried to put all her feelings in her eyes. She lifted her chin, and angled her face towards his. He bent down, and their lips met.
She sighed into the kiss, his mouth tasting brand-new yet not. Her lips parted beneath his, and his tongue slipped into her mouth. She grasped his shoulders, needing something to hang on to, needing him.
He moved away from her mouth, and ran his mouth over her cheek, towards her ear. "Buffy . . . " he murmured.
She let her eyes close. "Oh, Spike."
As soon as she realized what she had said, she jerked away from him, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as if she could cram the words back past her lips.
Will looked at her. His face was tragic in its lack of expression. "So that's how it is," he said, softly. "Guess they were wrong when they said you loved me, regardless of my name. You say his name when I'm kissing you."
Buffy's mind was addled from the kiss and from what had just happened. "What? Who are they? And you don't understand, Will . . . let me explain. You're Spike."
Will snorted. "I know. But am I, really?"
Buffy frowned in confusion. "Wait, you know? How is that possible? And oh my God. How are you handling all of it?"
She stepped towards him, wanting to touch him, reassure herself that he was here with her, sane and not broken from the weight of all those memories, good and bad. Instead, he took a step back, and said, "Why should you care? You've got Spike back, just inconveniently in the body of Will."
Buffy nearly let her anger take over. She wanted to give him a good slap against the side of his head, tell him to stop being so sensitive, and go back to kissing her. "Will, please. It's not like that at all. You're making things too complicated."
"Oh, I don't think I'm making it any more complicated than it is, Buffy. You want Spike, and you think you can have him now. Excuse me for being a bit concerned about those parts of me that don't fall in line with the way Spike thinks."
Okay, so anger was starting to win out. "Listen to me, you idiot. You might think you've got some kind of wacky multiple personality going on, but you don't. Whether you call some aspects of yourself 'Will' and others 'Spike', they're all you. And I don't care who's who. I just know that I love you, no matter what your name is."
Will sighed. "I'm sorry, Buffy . . . I just don't know . . . "
"Bullshit," she retorted. "You know who you are. Why else would you bleach your hair, and get a leather duster, but still wear clothes that are like Will's? You're still writing! Spike wouldn't have been caught dead writing anything--those memories hurt too much for him to think about writing. Don't you see, Will? Spike isn't taking you over. He's already you."
Will stared at her in surprise, and then stalked away from her, moving quickly. She nearly sank down on the ground, torn between screaming and crying. But something within her told her to follow him. He had a good head start on her, but she managed to catch up with him by the time he had reached his coat and their shoes. But he ignored them, and headed towards his car.
Ignoring the way the paved lot scratched against her bare feet, Buffy kept after him, and paused at the side of the car as he roughly pulled his keys out of his pocket and opened the trunk of his car. He pulled forth an accordion file, and for a minute, she felt a flash of fear. Was he still upset over her reaction to his book? Was this some kind of test? Would he only be satisfied if she made it through his book?
He turned towards her, a wild, manic look in his eyes. "I wrote another book. It's for you," he said, thrusting the accordion file at her. "I want you to read it. I'll take you home, and you can call me when you finish it."
"Will, I don't understand," she said, clutching the file to her chest.
"Read the book," he said emphatically. She stared after him as he sprinted back to the beach, picked up their things, and came back. She was silent during the drive back to her apartment. When they arrived, she paused for a moment, and looked at Will.
"I wish you could talk to me, instead of asking me to read this, Will."
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn't say anything. Buffy sighed, gathered her things and the file, and got out of his car. She walked slowly, turning once before she entered the building. Will had parked by a spotlight, and she could see into the car.
And she could see the tears running down his cheeks. She wanted so much to go to him, kiss away those tears and make him talk to her. For once, she thought she might be able to say the right words; she was able to do the talking thing, finally, thanks to him. But she knew that you both had to talk, and clearly, he didn't want to. She turned away and walked inside, her steps growing faster so she could get to her apartment and into her bedroom before she let herself break down.
End, Chapter Nine
By Melissa(dettiot@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG-13 mostly, with one NC-17 epilogue.
Spoilers: Through Chosen.
Author's Note: Spike/Buffy, but only kinda. This story is a bit odd. Also posted on my website(http://lostinwonderland.org/buffy/fanfic.html).
Chapter title comes from the song "Sympathy" by the Goo Goo Dolls.
Chapter Nine: When All Your Luck's Run Out On You
Buffy slowly entered her apartment. It was Friday night, and before, she would have been getting ready to see Will, or making preparations to drive down to San Diego. Instead, her whole weekend loomed before her. Xander was wrapped up with some new girlfriend, and Willow was interviewing for a job in Chicago. Dawn was working, she thought, so it looked like it would be Buffy Alone Time tonight.
Alone time sucked.
Buffy moved about the apartment, straightening up a few things before she made herself some dinner. Salad and a sandwich wasn't anything special, but she made herself eat. Too often in the past, she had let her emotional upheaval get in the way of her health, and she wasn't going to go down that road again. She ate and flipped through the day's mail and the newspaper, but her mind wasn't distracted from her concerns.
It had been a month since she had called Will, or Spike, or whoever he was. Calling him had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. She still wasn't quite sure where she had scraped up enough courage to do it. But she had meant what she had said to him. He could doubt that she was telling him the truth, doubt her mental stability, but she couldn't have him doubt her feelings.
She closed her eyes in sadness when a chain of memories unrolled in her mind. Seeing Spike preparing for his death, and his reaction to her declaration of love. Running from him, knowing that she was leaving him to die. Standing at the edge of the crater, as her memories were erased and she thought only of herself, and she smiled, the bitch that she was.
Buffy sniffed, her eyes opening. Of course, the memories with Will were just as bad, if not worse. The look on his face when she had said "I love you," how happy she had made him. The kisses they had shared, the way she had felt so complete. And then, the horror of reading his book and feeling betrayed. And the other look on his face, complete surprise and sadness.
It had been forty-one days since she had seen him last. Twenty-nine since she had talked to him last. It seemed like she was spending her life counting the days, wondering how many days would pass before she could live again. Because she was scared that only Will coming back would let her live again, and that didn't seem to be in her future. So she faced the prospect of hundreds and thousands of days without him.
She realized that her tears were dripping on the newspaper, and she pushed all the papers and the dishes from in front of her. She dropped her head onto her arms, and let the tears fall from her eyes. She couldn't even sob, she was so exhausted from her sadness.
The sound of a slamming door made her jerk her head up, surprised to see Dawn walk through the doorway. Dawn took one look at her sister, and said, "Okay, that's it."
Buffy watched in surprise as Dawn moved about the kitchen. She opened the freezer and pulled forth two cartons of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and grabbed two spoons out of the silverware drawer. Dawn came over to Buffy, and handed her a container of New York Super Fudge Chunk and a spoon. "Come," Dawn ordered. Buffy, feeling too dazed to argue, followed her sister into the living room.
"Sit down," Dawn said, pointing at the sofa as she detoured down the hall. Dawn came back, holding a box of tissues, to see Buffy already digging into the ice cream. Dawn joined her on the sofa, and for a few moments, the sisters merely spooned ice cream up and looked at each other.
Dawn finally stopped eating, leaving her spoon in her Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup. She said, "All right. I think it's time, don't you, Buffy?"
Buffy pulled her knees up, and set the ice cream next to her. "Yeah, I think so. At the very least, I'm getting some ice cream out of this."
Dawn didn't respond to the jibe, and Buffy sighed. "I'm warning you now, this is a really long story." Dawn nodded, and Buffy continued. "Once upon a time, there was one girl in the world, chosen to fight the vampires--"
"I know this story!" Dawn said, bouncing a little.
Buffy grinned, despite her sadness. "Hush. Anyway, in this story, you have your vampire slayer, named Buffy. And you have your vampire, named Spike. And one day they meet . . ."
**
Buffy gazed around the room. Tissues and empty ice cream cartons littered the couch and the floor. Dawn still had tears streaming down her cheeks, but Buffy felt calmer than she had in days.
'Wow, who would have thought talking could make you feel better?' Buffy thought ironically, with a touch of amusement. She shook her head, and reached out to hug Dawn.
"I know it's a lot to take in. Trust me, it's taken me this long to get everything figured out, and I still think I've only scratched the surface. I mean, note my lack of progress in figuring out how to talk to Will."
Dawn sniffed, and grabbed a tissue to wipe her face. "So you know you love him?"
Buffy smiled sadly. "Oh, yeah. I don't care what his name is-William the Bloody or William Smythe. His past as Spike is part of him, but I'm still gonna love him."
"So what are you gonna do?"
Buffy sighed. "I don't know, Dawn. I called him about a month ago, and we talked about his book. I had kinda hoped that we could start talking, you know? I mean, I wasn't going to blurt out on the phone, 'Hey, you used to be a hundred-year-old vampire who fell so in love with me, you got a soul and helped save the world, and thus died.' I don't think that's very good phone etiquette."
"But since then?" Dawn asked.
"Nothing. He hasn't called, and I don't know if I can call him again. I mean, I keep making the moves, and he seems open, but then, nothing."
Dawn rolled her eyes at her sister. "You called him once."
"Twice!" Buffy interjected.
"A phone call where he breaks up with you does not count as calling to make amends. You were calling to fix the fight that first time. And the second phone call, you were all business, talking about the book, making sure he didn't hate you. You still haven't made the crucial 'calling to fix the breakup' call. You haven't called to find out if he loves you."
"What in the world are you babbling about? You've been reading too much Cosmo," Buffy said, wrinkling her nose. "Or listening to way too much Stevie Wonder, which is just sad at your age."
Dawn narrowed her eyes. "At any point during the last phone call, did you say, 'I love you'? 'I still want to be with you'? 'I'm miserable without you'?"
Buffy squirmed a bit. "Well, not exactly. But he should have been able to tell!"
"Buffy, what was the first rule about boys that you told me?"
"Um, always make him pay for the first date?" Buffy said weakly.
Dawn groaned. "No, Little Miss Amnesiac. 'Boys are stupid. They don't know how you feel until you tell them, and they don't know how they feel until you tell them.' Now, with that as our starting point, have you told him how you feel? No. Have you told him how he feels? No."
"Well, when you put it that way," Buffy griped.
Dawn got up, and went to the table where the cordless phone was located. "Buffy, I'm telling you. You've been sitting here waiting for him to show up with roses and chocolates, proclaiming his undying love for you, no matter what. You've never waited for anything in your life--you've always gone after it, and gotten it, whether it was a guy or a Chirago demon. So call him, and get him back." She carried the phone over, and held it out to Buffy.
Buffy stared at the phone, and then looked up at Dawn. "What if he doesn't want to come back?"
Dawn's face softened, but her voice was firm. "At least then you won't be waiting anymore. Life's too short to wait."
Buffy took the phone from Dawn, and held it in her hands, just staring at it for a moment. It was scary how much importance she was placing on just a phone call. 'You're probably going to get his machine,' she thought to herself. 'Because he's out having fun with a girl who isn't crazy, who can give him what he needs.'
Just as she was about to start punching in his number, the phone rang. Buffy jumped in her seat, and she stared at Dawn. "It's him, I know it!"
Dawn rolled her eyes. "That only happens in the movies." Buffy didn't make any motions to answer the phone, and Dawn said, "Oh, for Pete's sake," before she grabbed the phone away from Buffy. "Hello?" she said.
Dawn's eyes widened, and she glanced at Buffy. Buffy felt her heart speed up, and she felt like she was going to throw up.
"Hi, Will," Dawn said, her voice guarded. "Yes, she's here." Dawn pulled the phone away from her ear, and started handing it to Buffy, but then pulled it back to her ear. "Listen, you jerk, if you hurt her, I promise you, I know people who can make your life an utter vale of misery. And I'm one of them. Understand?"
Whatever Will said obviously had satisfied Dawn, because she handed the phone to Buffy, and then went into her room, closing the door behind her.
Buffy took a deep breath and lifted the phone to her ear. "Hi."
"Hi."
Buffy nearly sighed. His voice was just so . . . good. Hearing it float across the phone lines to her ears was like listening to heaven. She somehow managed to make her mouth work, despite the feelings swirling through her. "Haven't heard from you in a while."
He cleared his throat, and said, "Um, I know. And I'm sorry about that. Just . . . something came up, and before I knew it, weeks had gone by."
She didn't know how she felt. She thought he sounded a bit ashamed, but she thought she also heard excitement in his voice.
"How's your mom doing?" she asked, mentally shuddering as she fell back onto "safe" topics to keep the conversation going.
"She's good, really good. I talked to her yesterday, and she's planning to come down and visit me soon. How's Dawn?"
"Other than making threats, she's been doing well. She's all set to start at at UCLA in the fall."
"Still planning on creating a whole new system for landscape design?"
"Yes," Buffy said, trying not to scream in frustration that they were talking about her sister and not them. "I can't watch Ground Force on BBCAmerica without listening to her numerous critiques."
Will laughed a bit, and she felt her heart shriveling up. 'Oh, please please please, tell me you love me,' she thought.
Suddenly, she couldn't take this anymore. "Will, I don't think you called me so we could chat about our relatives. I . . . I think you know how I feel. I still feel that way. And if you don't feel the same, or don't think you could feel that way again, please just hang up now and let me get over this."
She bit her lip, knowing that she said too much, but she couldn't bear this agony of not knowing.
She could hear him breathing, and finally, after ten seconds that felt like ten years, he said, "I can't tell you, Buffy."
"What?" she said, shock permeating her voice. "You can't tell me? What the hell does that mean?"
"Look, I can't. Not yet. All right? I think this talking on the phone thing isn't working for us. I'm coming up to LA next weekend. Could we go out to dinner?"
"Are you sure?" Buffy asked, trying to reign in the hostility that was masking her fear.
"Yes. Can I pick you up on Saturday at six?"
"That's fine," Buffy said.
"Good," he said, sounding a bit relieved. "Buffy, I know you want more from me. And . . . I want to give you everything I can, but there's just something I have to take care of first. But I'll explain everything on Saturday."
Buffy sighed. "I hope so, Will. Because . . . I can't do this for much longer."
"I know, pet. I'll see you on Saturday."
Buffy hung up the phone, more confused than she'd been before. He couldn't tell her how he felt? What was this mysterious "thing" that was taking up all his attention?
Dawn popped her head out of her room. "So? I don't spy any tears, or hear any angry screams."
"That's because there's no signs for when you're so confused you don't know which end is up," Buffy said wryly, rubbing her hand over her face. "He's taking me out to dinner on Saturday."
Dawn's face lit up. "And?"
"And nothing. I was a big old girl and basically said, 'Oh, please tell me you love me' and he said, and I quote, 'I can't tell you, Buffy.' Kept talking about something going on that he had to take care of first." Buffy shook her head. "And guys say WE'RE confusing."
"But hey, progress--you're going to see him. That's a definite step in the right direction."
"I guess," Buffy said. Then, panic crossed her face, and she looked at Dawn. "What am I gonna wear?"
Dawn looked at Buffy, and in unison, the two girls dashed to Buffy's room to perform an emergency wardrobe inventory.
**
Buffy was sure that some wars had been planned and implemented with less thought and preparation than she'd used for her dinner with Will. She'd spent part of the afternoon in the salon, getting her hair and nails done. She was wearing one of her favorite dresses, one that Will had once said made her look like a mermaid: a pale green dress with spaghetti straps. She wore new earrings and a necklace that her mother had given her. Dawn had contributed a gorgeous clutch that matched her silver sandals perfectly.
In short, she sure hoped he wasn't taking her to KFC for dinner.
"Stop fidgeting," Dawn said. "You look wonderful. He's gonna take one look at you, and after not seeing you for all this time, he's gonna fall head over heels for you."
Buffy stared at her hair in the hall mirror. "Why did I let the hairdresser talk me into highlights? It looks like a four-year-old with Parkinson's applied these."
Dawn pulled her sister away from the mirror, and put her hands on Buffy's shoulders. "Buffy, listen to me. You are a beautiful, caring, intelligent woman. Will would be an idiot if he can't see that. And we both know he's not an idiot. So remember how much you love him, and don't get scared and lash out."
"I never do that."
Dawn merely raised her eyebrow.
"Well, hardly ever," Buffy said. At Dawn's expression of disbelief, Buffy groaned and said, "Fine, fine, I'll remember."
"All of it, Buffy," Dawn said, her face serious.
Buffy smiled softly at her sister. "I'll remember, Dawn. You're the best." She pulled Dawn in for a hug, and once again gave thanks for Dawn's presence in her life.
The doorbell rang, and Buffy's nerves returned in full force. But she closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Then, with a hand squeeze from Dawn, she went and opened the door.
He had bleached his hair. She felt her jaw drop open in surprise, feeling like she was looking at a ghost. Instead of the casual preppy style he'd worn before, now he was all in black: pants, silk shirt, and topping it all off, a leather duster. He stood before her, looking cocky and powerful, yet she could still see those aspects that seemed like Will. She could see his fear and insecurity, shining through the bleach and the attitude.
He might look like Spike. He might act like Will. But she knew she loved him.
She felt tears well up in her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. It was so hard, to see him standing before her, looking so much like Spike, when she was the only person on Earth who knew what Spike looked like. How much goodness Spike had held within himself, how much the world owed him. She didn't understand why he looked different. Her brain was still trying to process the shock of seeing Will's personality clothed in Spike's look. She wondered if it was a sign from the Fates, giving her their blessing.
She stood in the doorway, her hand still on the door, taking it all in. Then, she realized he was standing on the doorstep, waiting for her to either invite him in or step outside. "Oh! Come in."
Will smiled at her. "Thanks. How are you doing?"
"Good, I'm good. How are you?"
Will shuffled his feet. "All right, I guess."
"You changed your hair," Buffy said, before clapping a hand over her mouth.
Will laughed. "Yeah, felt like I needed a change." His eyes locked with hers, and the smile faded from his face. "You look beautiful."
Buffy blushed. "Thank you." She looked around, and realized that Dawn was standing in the hall, watching this scene. "Um, Dawn . . . "
Will lifted his hand. "Hi, Dawn. Remembering your warning."
Dawn nodded. "You should. I like the coat. Buffy, I'll see you later." She walked down the hall, and Buffy nearly raced after her and told her she had to stay, so that Buffy wouldn't do anything stupid.
Buffy took another deep breath. No one was going to be able to fix their problems, except the two of them.
She faced Will. "Shall we?"
Will nodded, and as she walked past him, she felt his hand touch the small of her back briefly. The slight contact sent tingles through her, and she felt her knees weaken.
'Oh, God,' she thought. 'I can forget all the bad stuff when he touches me.'
They were quiet as they walked out of her apartment building and got in his car. She noticed that his car, for once, was clean--before, it had always been littered with cigarette butts, fast food wrappers, and CDs.
She gazed out the window to prevent herself from staring at him. Taking in all the changes that didn't really change him that much. One thing she had realized, in the time away from him, was that Will wasn't that different from Spike. At least, the Spike she had seen at the end: a caring, tender man, but a man through and through. Will wasn't some prissy wimp, soft or ineffectual. He was capable of standing up for himself, and for what he believed in. He had a bit of a temper, and wasn't above being crude to make his point.
All the personality quirks that she loved about him were always there, whether he was Will or Spike. And, there were things about him that drove her crazy, made her want to strangle him. But he wouldn't be him if he didn't drive her out of her mind every once in a while.
At some points during those weeks apart, she had considered telling Will what she had discovered about him. But she couldn't help but fear that there would be a repeat of what happened when she finally had to reveal her past to him. He wouldn't believe her. How could he? It was so completely amazing, to consider the idea that you had been a powerful, century-old vampire who redeemed himself through the power of love. It'd make a great movie, but as reality?
Even more importantly, she wouldn't do that to Will. Give him all that pain and sadness that he wouldn't be able to handle. She couldn't torture him like that.
She moved her shoulders up and down, trying to dispel the feeling of dread she felt. She looked over towards him, and felt a smile blooming on her lips. It was amazing, how just looking at him made her happy.
She realized that he was glancing over at her, and he gave her a quick smile in return. "What's put that smile on your face?" he asked, his voice curious.
"Oh, nothing. Happy non-thoughts."
He shook his head. "Amazing, how you butcher the English language."
"Yes, while you speak the Queen's English, Mr. Sod This."
"Well, I'm sure the Queen says that on occasion," Will retorted, his mouth flashing in a smile.
She smiled back, and said, "So, where are we going?"
"I know this place. Thought it'd be nice--near the water, with great seafood."
Buffy's mind flashed to the restaurant they had eaten at the night they had first made love. She closed her eyes, and tried not to give away her thoughts. "Sounds great."
The rest of the drive was silent, and when they pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant, Buffy nearly sighed with pleasure. The restaurant was small, romantic-looking, and the smells wafting from inside made her mouth water. Will came around and opened her car door, and she smiled at him, impressed with the little gestures he was making. His hand once again rested against her back. As they walked inside, she caught a glimpse of the two of them in a mirror, and she thought, 'We look good together.'
Her confidence renewed, Buffy smiled up at Will and followed the waiter to their table.
**
She didn't feel like smiling anymore.
They had gone through appetizer, salad, and entree, and Will was barely talking to her. She kept grasping for things to talk about, and she'd only get monosyllabic answers out of him. She tried talking about politics, new movies, and about some of her stranger customers. Nothing seemed to get him talking.
She sighed as dessert was placed in front of her. Chocolate cake. Just like last time. She wanted to cry over how different that night had been from this one.
Buffy picked up her fork, and stabbed her cake. She shoveled a piece into her mouth, and looked over at Will. He was toying with his cake, his attention focused on the table. Frustrated beyond belief, Buffy dropped her fork on her plate.
"Will, look at me."
At the sound of her voice, his head whipped up, and she felt herself lose focus for a moment when his bluer-than-blue eyes locked with hers. She gave herself a quick shake, and pressed forward. "I thought we were having dinner together so we could talk. But you've barely said two words to me." She paused, and felt her voice tremble a little when she said, "Has this been a mistake?"
Will sighed, and reached across the table. His fingers rested on the top of her hand, and she automatically turned her hand over so he could wrap his hand around hers. "I'm sorry. It's just that every time I've tried to say something, it sounds so trite and stupid in my head."
"I know how that feels," she said softly. "Why do you think I've been babbling all evening? I'm trying to find the right words."
Will gave her a slight grin. "Writer, pet. Words are supposed to come easily to me."
"That can't be the case all the time. You must have had writer's block sometimes," Buffy said.
"Yeah, once or twice," Will admitted.
"So how'd you work through it?"
"Lots of staring out the window, trying to avoid the computer."
A silence fell between them, their hands their only connection. Buffy gazed at their hands, and finally said, "What if we say the thing we regret most, about what happened between us? You go first."
She could see Will's throat contract as he swallowed, and he said, in a thick voice, "What I said to you, that morning when you called me. Especially the last thing I said." He looked at her, his eyes sincere. "You didn't deserve that, love."
Buffy bit her lip, her heart thudding at his admission. "It was how you felt at the time, Will. Even I know I came off as a complete nut, not to mention the Empress of Bad Timing."
Will shook his head. "Still doesn't mean I don't regret it, Buffy."
She was silent for a moment, and then said, "Not telling you about my past. We had known each other long enough, and with the . . . feelings I have for you, there's no excuse for me to keep that from you. I guess I didn't realize how much it affects me still. Your book clued me in to that one."
Will nodded, his eyes focused on their hands. He brought his other hand over, and began tracing circles on the back of her hand. She closed her eyes, and a breathy sigh issued from her lips.
She opened her eyes to find his gaze roving over her face, taking in every detail. Suddenly, he said, "Do you want to go take a walk on the beach?"
Buffy nodded, and he flashed a quick smile at her as he called the waiter over for their check.
After paying the bill, Will rose from his chair, and helped her out of hers. He took her hand in his as they walked out of the restaurant and headed towards the beach. Once they hit the sand, Will dropped his coat, which he had been carrying over his arm, on the sand, and kicked off his shoes. She followed his lead, leaving her sandals and tucking her purse under his coat. She looked at him for a moment, and then extended her hand towards him. He grasped it, and she couldn't help smiling at him.
They walked along the shoreline for a few moments, heading away from the lights and noise. The waves and their feet pushing against the sand were soon the only sounds.
Buffy felt happiness swelling up inside her like a bubble. She thought this was going to be so hard, full of tears and uncomfortable moments. But they seemed to fit back together, like a key into a lock. Their steps slowed, and soon, they stopped. Buffy stared at the ocean, and then turned to look at Will. She smiled at him again, wanting him to know that his presence was all she needed to be happy.
The smile that flashed across his face was like the sun breaking through a cloud. He took a step towards her, and lifted his other hand towards her face. Her eyes fluttered shut when he rubbed his thumb across her cheek.
"Buffy?" he said in a quiet voice. "Can I kiss you?"
She opened her eyes, and tried to put all her feelings in her eyes. She lifted her chin, and angled her face towards his. He bent down, and their lips met.
She sighed into the kiss, his mouth tasting brand-new yet not. Her lips parted beneath his, and his tongue slipped into her mouth. She grasped his shoulders, needing something to hang on to, needing him.
He moved away from her mouth, and ran his mouth over her cheek, towards her ear. "Buffy . . . " he murmured.
She let her eyes close. "Oh, Spike."
As soon as she realized what she had said, she jerked away from him, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as if she could cram the words back past her lips.
Will looked at her. His face was tragic in its lack of expression. "So that's how it is," he said, softly. "Guess they were wrong when they said you loved me, regardless of my name. You say his name when I'm kissing you."
Buffy's mind was addled from the kiss and from what had just happened. "What? Who are they? And you don't understand, Will . . . let me explain. You're Spike."
Will snorted. "I know. But am I, really?"
Buffy frowned in confusion. "Wait, you know? How is that possible? And oh my God. How are you handling all of it?"
She stepped towards him, wanting to touch him, reassure herself that he was here with her, sane and not broken from the weight of all those memories, good and bad. Instead, he took a step back, and said, "Why should you care? You've got Spike back, just inconveniently in the body of Will."
Buffy nearly let her anger take over. She wanted to give him a good slap against the side of his head, tell him to stop being so sensitive, and go back to kissing her. "Will, please. It's not like that at all. You're making things too complicated."
"Oh, I don't think I'm making it any more complicated than it is, Buffy. You want Spike, and you think you can have him now. Excuse me for being a bit concerned about those parts of me that don't fall in line with the way Spike thinks."
Okay, so anger was starting to win out. "Listen to me, you idiot. You might think you've got some kind of wacky multiple personality going on, but you don't. Whether you call some aspects of yourself 'Will' and others 'Spike', they're all you. And I don't care who's who. I just know that I love you, no matter what your name is."
Will sighed. "I'm sorry, Buffy . . . I just don't know . . . "
"Bullshit," she retorted. "You know who you are. Why else would you bleach your hair, and get a leather duster, but still wear clothes that are like Will's? You're still writing! Spike wouldn't have been caught dead writing anything--those memories hurt too much for him to think about writing. Don't you see, Will? Spike isn't taking you over. He's already you."
Will stared at her in surprise, and then stalked away from her, moving quickly. She nearly sank down on the ground, torn between screaming and crying. But something within her told her to follow him. He had a good head start on her, but she managed to catch up with him by the time he had reached his coat and their shoes. But he ignored them, and headed towards his car.
Ignoring the way the paved lot scratched against her bare feet, Buffy kept after him, and paused at the side of the car as he roughly pulled his keys out of his pocket and opened the trunk of his car. He pulled forth an accordion file, and for a minute, she felt a flash of fear. Was he still upset over her reaction to his book? Was this some kind of test? Would he only be satisfied if she made it through his book?
He turned towards her, a wild, manic look in his eyes. "I wrote another book. It's for you," he said, thrusting the accordion file at her. "I want you to read it. I'll take you home, and you can call me when you finish it."
"Will, I don't understand," she said, clutching the file to her chest.
"Read the book," he said emphatically. She stared after him as he sprinted back to the beach, picked up their things, and came back. She was silent during the drive back to her apartment. When they arrived, she paused for a moment, and looked at Will.
"I wish you could talk to me, instead of asking me to read this, Will."
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn't say anything. Buffy sighed, gathered her things and the file, and got out of his car. She walked slowly, turning once before she entered the building. Will had parked by a spotlight, and she could see into the car.
And she could see the tears running down his cheeks. She wanted so much to go to him, kiss away those tears and make him talk to her. For once, she thought she might be able to say the right words; she was able to do the talking thing, finally, thanks to him. But she knew that you both had to talk, and clearly, he didn't want to. She turned away and walked inside, her steps growing faster so she could get to her apartment and into her bedroom before she let herself break down.
End, Chapter Nine