This is the not so long awaited sequel to my story, 'What She Needs' You probably aren't here reading this if you haven't read that one, but just incase you should go and do so. It's not to long, and this story will be a lot easier to understand if you do.

Disclaimer: It still belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I'm neither of those, so the odds are very good that I don't own this, nor am I making any money off it.

Many thanks to Missy for having i beta'ed and ready for me when I got up! You are a peach and a half!

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What She Has

by alltherealice

Being alone was... lonely. But at least then you felt you had a permission to feel that way. You're allowed to feel alone when there's no one around. You're not supposed to feel that way when your best friends are hovering around you 22/7.

Twenty-two because the only time you don't feel alone is during those two hours a day your allowed to see her. But she doesn't even recognize you anymore. So you still don't feel alone, because right then she's all you need.

Sadly you don't hold the same significance for her.

She needs her brain restored to it's former state more than she needs you whispering platitudes to her, but you do it anyway.

She needs drugs and restraints, according to the doctors, which she has.

At least for that first week, after that she's released.

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It wasn't a very good plan. Get in a large motorized vehicle and drive away. Straight forward, and useable, at least in short term. But not really a good solid plan that gives you a lot of hope that you'll live to exist longer than the tank of gas you're running on. It wasn't a good plan and they all seemed to know that.

But no one was saying that to Buffy.

He and the Demon Girl were the only ones who seemed the least bit enthusiastic about their situation.

'God knows what her reason is.' Spike thought, as she yammered on about a road trip and some movies she'd seen on the topic. His reason however was obvious. Everyone knew it even if none of them had spared it a second thought. It was just that easy to figure out.

Buffy had come to him for help. She'd sought him out and he'd agreed in a flash. He loved her after all. He wasn't about to refuse.

'She's not seeking you out anymore though.' He sniped mentally at himself. They were in the Winnebago, the bad plan was in action, and there was no more reason for any further thought on his presence. She wasn't reaching out to forge any new bonds. That bothered him even though he knew better than to expect it to happen.

Sure she came to him. But she did so grudgingly, because there was no one else to go to.

He knew it would never happen, but he still kept expecting it to.

Fed up with himself and his patheticness, Spike left the cramped "kitchen table" and for lack of anywhere else to go, the Watcher had pulled the tinfoil off the windshield so the front of the escape vehicle was out, besides that Buffy was in the passenger seat, and since she was the reason he was so disgusted with himself he headed for the back. There was a small room cut off from her there.

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Turning her head towards the sound of knocking at the door, the door separating her from everyone else, she softly called for whoever it was to come in. The door opened a crack and Spike's clipped tone asked her if the curtains were closed.

She told him they were and he came in, closing the door behind him and giving her a nod in greeting. She offered a wan smile in reply, before turning her head towards Tara. She was sleeping. Thankfully. She rarely slept anymore, she was far to bust muttering nonsense and being crazy to sleep.

"Sorry about earlier." When my girlfriend almost caused you to burst into flames. She didn't mean it.

"S'alright." Spike returned, surprised she would apologize for something that wasn't her fault, after the fact and when she'd already apologized profusely at the time. The more he thought about it, the less surprised he was that she'd do that. It was a Willow thing to do, be considerate and all, but he was surprised she'd extend that consideration to him. "So how you holding up Red?"

"Oh well... you know." She said the last part with significance, because he did know. He nodded his understanding, his eyes landing on a red mark on her jaw line as she turned to face him briefly before continuing and turning to look at one of the curtained windows, "It's hard. I don't know how you did it for so long. How you stayed with you crazy girlfriend, and still managed to mourn when the relationship ended. It's been barely two weeks and I've wanted to take her back to the hospital or send her to her awful family more than once."

"Do you think I didn't want to stake Drusilla daily?" Spike asked sitting on the edge of the bed, a spot on the right of Willow, the only place left to sit. Her Girl took up most of the room in her sleep, her head was in Willow's lap. Willow shrugged in response to his question, running her hands through her girlfriend's hair, probably not even realizing that, that small amount of trust that her Girl was giving to her was what was going to keep her going until the next day.

He dreaded the day when Willow realized it to, the day when she realized all the brief moments of love and trust she'd felt over the years, the ones everyone promised were the only ones that counted, were nothing compared to when a crazy person deemed you unworthy to take care of them. By then, the bad times would out weigh the good, they'd all blur together, and all you'd really be able to remember about your time together was the frustration. The anger. The pain.

"Because I did." He continued, "She'd get to talking about her 'Daddy' about how I didn't meet up to his standards. And she'd tell me she hated me and I'd die a little inside. She always knew when she did that, she'd laugh, and when I finally decided that enough was enough. Then, I would go to get the stake she'd look at me, and she'd be the Drusilla I loved. I just couldn't. When she was the Drusilla I loved I forgot I ever wanted to do anything but worship her." The corner of his mouth quirked up in a sad smile when Willow stopped stroking her sleeping girls hair to reach over and give his hand a squeeze, one of pity and understanding. He squeezed back and she let go, resuming her previous action.

Sighing he started to speak again, "It's not about what you wish you could do. What you think you have to do to keep your own sanity." He turned to look at Willow fully, catching her chin and turning her to look him in the eye, "What matters is what you do do." He saw the old Willow, the one who'd been friends with the Demon Magnet all her life, surface for a brief second to suppress a smile at his choice of words, "It doesn't matter that she doesn't know you, or that she hits you," he brushed his thumb over the mark on her face, "What matters is that you take care of her despite it."

He leaned in towards her and gave her an encouraging smile, "What matters is that you love her even though it's not soft and sweet, or easy."

He released his hold on her, stopped going over the mark on the curve of her jaw when the door opened a few seconds later. The sound startling the crazy girl awake, she looked around the small room spooked before focusing on Willow and visibly calming. He watched as Willow's eyes brightened and she smiled a real smile as she saw it as well, and he remembered why he refused to let himself love her.

Because she didn't need him.

'She has what she needs.'

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TBC