Disclaimer: not mine however much I wish it was.

A/N: I am so totally amazed at how many people like this story! You know I love you right?

Chapter 15: So far away

"Mom!" Spike yelled as he entered the house, Buffy nestled safely in his arms, kicking the door closed behind him. "Mom are you here?!" When no answer came Spike growled in frustration. He knew he should have called first, then he might have caught his mother before she left for work, but he'd just been so desperate to get Buffy out of the school and away from Snyder that he hadn't been thinking strait. Spike's arms unconsciously tightened around Buffy as he thought about that little troll – there weren't names for some of the torture that he wanted to inflict on the man. Spike grinned manically as he imagined the pain Snyder would be put through for daring to hurt his Buffy.

Buffy.

Looking down a the girl in his arms who seemed almost weightless Spike let out sigh as he saw the vacant expression still on her face. Whatever Snyder had said to her had obviously pushed her too far. Once again he cursed himself for not hanging around long enough to find out what it had been. After several minutes of just staring at the beautiful treasure he held, Spike finally broke out of his reverie and carefully carried her up the stairs. Nudging her door open with his foot, he carried her over to her bed and gently lay her down on the covers. Her head flopped down on the pillow and her limbs simply rested where they fell. Spike felt his stomach twist at the sight of her lying there looking so lifeless. Even in the early days when she hadn't even been able to tell him her name, she had never seemed this far away, this unreachable.

Carefully, almost reverently, Spike adjusted Buffy's position so she would be more comfortable. She now lay on her side, her golden hair fanned out behind her on the pillow. She looked like she could be sleeping peacefully, but the pleasant image was dispelled the moment Spike gazed at her usually expressive face only to look upon her now sightless eyes. It was a heart wrenching vision but one he could barely drag his eyes from – it was like looking at a train wreck; you knew what you were going to see would upset you but you just can't look away. With a deep shuddering breath Spike moved away from the bed and left the room to go to the phone.

Spike felt like crying when the receptionist at Tara's office told him that Dr Maclay wouldn't be in until the afternoon. Leaving a message telling her about Buffy's condition and asking that she call the house as soon as she could Spike hung up the phone and collapsed against the wall. This all seemed too much. He had worked so hard to bring Buffy out of her shell only for all of their progress to be undone in fifteen minutes. Reaching into his duster pockets for his cigarettes to help calm his nerves, Spike was surprised when his fingers brushed against something else. Pulling the object out of his pocket, he smiled fondly as he saw it was the notebook he had given her what felt like an eternity ago. He must have picked it up when he carried her out of Snyder's office.

Spike pondered momentarily about the ethics of looking at what was inside – would it be an invasion of privacy, like reading a diary or something? He knew she might not just use the notebook for scribbling her little messages, and he knew there might be things written in there that weren't meant for his eyes, but ultimately curiosity won out. After all, he thought to himself, it might give him a clue as to what Snyder had said to her. Flipping through the first few pages Spike found little out of the ordinary. Mostly there were her responses to conversations he could already remember. He chuckled when he re-read some of her more humorous comebacks – particularly the conversation she'd had with Xander when they had first been introduced.

Spike's eyes went wide with wonder however when he looked at the second to last page on which there was writing. As well as answers to questions he assumed she had been asked in her one and only class, he saw a small doodle in the corner of the page. She had obviously taken great care over the small picture, and Spike found out for the first time what a great artist she seemed to be – she had never told him. The picture was drawn and shaded in pencil. It was a heart with what looked to be some kind of spike through it. This in itself was unremarkable, but written on the spike was one word. William. Just below where the spike entered the heart was written Buffy.

Spike didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  He had been so worried about telling Buffy how he felt, afraid of pushing or scaring her – and here it looked like she might just feel the same way about him. But now he had found this out it might be too late to act upon it. What if he couldn't bring Buffy back? What if he had lost her forever before he even got the chance to love her properly? Spike banged his head back against the wall behind him, hoping to knock some sense into himself so he could figure out what to do.

Flipping to the last written page in the notebook Spike saw Buffy's answers to the questions Snyder had thrown at her. I don't know why he was there. Spike's throat suddenly felt very tight. Who else could Snyder have been asking about but him? The rat had been questioning Buffy about him! And if Spike had to guess, he would say it had been about the night he had stolen Snyder's watch and had found Buffy at the docks. He suddenly felt very nauseous. This was all his fault. If he'd never pulled that stupid prank to get even with a man who really wasn't worth it then Snyder would have had no reason to pull Buffy into his office, he never would have had reason to yell at her, to push her into catatonia. Spike choked out a sob as he was hit by a wave of overwhelming guilt and grief. He had lost Buffy and it was all his fault!

As the tears fell down his cheeks Spike felt all of the strength he had been using to support Buffy the last few weeks suddenly leave him. He had put so much energy into bringing life back to the tiny girl now lying in her room upstairs, and now it seemed it had all been for nothing. He had been his own undoing. Without her nervous smiles and touches of her hand he wasn't sure he could even support himself anymore. Helping her had given him a purpose, a reason, a chance to be something more than he was. She had supported him; and all the while they had both thought it was the other way around. And now he had let her down.

Spike squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the flow of tears. This wasn't going to help get Buffy back. He could tear himself apart later, after he had fixed the girl he loved with all his heart. As he pulled himself to his feet with a great deal of effort, he felt so much older than his meagre eighteen years. When had life aged him so? Wearily, he pulled himself up the stars and back into Buffy's room. Of course she hadn't moved from the position he had left her, she didn't even look like she had blinked. Slowly, Spike crawled onto the bed, lying on his side facing her, trying to search for life behind those hazel eyes that could hold him in a thrall for hours.

With shaking fingers he reached out and gently brushed them against her cheek, feeling the moisture that still lingered from her earlier crying. "Buffy…" He began in a shaky voice. "I'm so sorry Baby. Please come back. Oh God Buffy, please forgive me…" Spike's voice finally broke on these last words. "I love you so much Buffy! Please forgive me…please forgive me." Spike trailed off into incoherent sobs, pulling an unresponsive Buffy into his arms and burying his tears in the sweet scent of her hair…

Hours later, Spike had cried himself to sleep. His face, puffy from crying was resting against Buffy's throat. His slumber was too deep to hear the ringing of the phone. But someone else heard the shrill sound. Beside him, Buffy stirred…

A/N: Sorry – I just couldn't end the chapter on a depressed Spike – it's too upsetting! I hope this chapter was ok. Please let me know what you think. I love you all!