Truth Keeper
A/N – I know it's been literally forever since I posted last. I've been extremely busy and although I want to write, I don't have much time to do so. Unfortunately, there will continue to be a large time lapse between chapter postings. I might try posting shorter chapters more frequently, but I can't make any promises. There is plenty more to come in this fiction, just please be patient. I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review – it really does encourage me to find time to write and I appreciate all feedback.
Chapter 13 - Hurt
"I thought you were going to help me find my Mama, Monsieur."
Spike looked down at the little girl and smiled. "I'm sure she's just around the corner." He tightened his grip on the child's hand and lengthened his stride. The little girl whimpered, but kept up with him. As they turned the corner, they were met by a large, hulking minion guarding a door.
"Master Spike," the minion spoke with a snarl, his eyes flashing yellow as he looked at the child, nostrils flaring at the scent of her fear. Without another word he opened the door for his master, bowing his head as Spike walked by, although his eyes never left the small child. As they entered the building, soft singing could be heard.
"Ring around the rosies,
A pocket full of posies,
Ashes,
Ashes,
We all fall down.
Ring around the rosies,
A pocket full of…"
"Drusilla, Princess, where are you?" Spike strode through the large, dark hall. It was silent except for the soft voice that seemed to be coming from every direction.
"Where's my Mama, Monsieur? I don't like this place." Spike had to suppress a growl at the child's whimper. He was about ready to snap the little girl's neck; the only thing stopping him was the thought of how pleased his Dark Princess would be with a final French gift. It was their last night in Paris, their train for Prague was leaving at sunset the next evening and they would not have time to hunt before boarding the train. Spike wanted to make Dru's last French meal special, and knew she would be delighted with the little girl he had found.
As he neared their bedroom, the singing became louder, and soon Drusilla came floating out of the bedroom clad in one of her soft, long dresses. She had Miss Edith clutched to her chest and a dazed expression on her face.
"Miss Edith is whispering of all the lovely death that came with the roses and rats. Raining ashes of blood, it was. Isn't it a pretty song, my Spike?"
"Lovely, pet."
"She says we'll be dancing in rings and have roses all around us soon," Drusilla pale face became even paler as she saw the visions dance in front of her. The whimpering and light shaking that always gave way to one of her tantrums began and Spike was quickly at her side, throwing the little girl roughly into a corner.
"Hush, Princess. Everything will be fine as long as I'm here." He wrapped his arms around the vampiress and led her to the corner where his gift was trying to melt into the shadows. "I've brought you a gift. Why don't you introduce her to Miss Edith?" A grin spread across Drusilla's pale features, both beautifully childlike and insanely evil all at the same time. Kneeling down in front of the little girl, she began to stroke the now crying child's hair.
"Shh, shh, shh, little one. I don't like it when you cry."
"I want my Mama, Madame."
Drusilla took the child's hand, and placed Miss Edith in it. "I'm your Mama now, and my Spike is your Papa. And this is Miss Edith, she can be very naughty, and then I have to punish her. You won't be naughty, though, will you?" The little girl shook her head and clutched the doll tightly to her chest as Drusilla lead her towards another room.
"Ring around the rosies…"
Spike woke up with a start. Closing his eyes, he tried to block out the images of the little girl, but they wouldn't disappear. Spike felt a stirring in his stomach and jumped up, sprinting to the bathroom adjacent to his new bedroom. He barely had time to reach the toilet before he heaved the bloody contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl.
"She's been very naughty, Miss Edith, hasn't she?"
Spike pulled himself up and splashed some water on his face. He looked up into the empty mirror, glad he couldn't see his reflection. "Bloody hell, man, get it together. You're not your sodding Grandsire."
"I'll say." Spike looked up with a start, jumping into a fighting stance automatically. When he saw the figure standing in the door, his body slackened and he leaned against the sink.
"What the hell are you doing in my bedroom, Ari?"
"Watching you have a nightmare and regurgitate pig's blood." Arabella stepped into the bathroom and looked over at the toilet, crinkling up her nose. "I'm glad you've got such good aim, Will. Otherwise I might have had to join you in being ill." Arabella strode out of the bathroom and over to his closet, Spike following wearily behind her. She grabbed the first pair of pants she saw and threw them at Spike. "Put those on. However much I enjoy taking in your assets," she smiled mischievously and looked over her shoulder, giving herself a last glance at Spike's naked form, "it's really not appropriate."
After pulling on the pants, Spike flopped into his bad, staring up at the empty ceiling. He felt the weight of another body joining him in the bed and turned his head to see Ari with a large, false grin on her face. "What do you want?"
"Is that any way to treat a guest?" Arabella spread out on the bed beside him, mimicking his position. When all she got was a glare, she spoke. "I want two things, actually. First, you're coming to Tijuana with a stop-over in Los Angeles with me. We need to pick up Henry before we head across the border."
"No."
"Oh, why not? It would be fun. When was the last time you went on a road trip?"
"When Drusilla dumped me."
"Oh right, well, you've already been dumped so I promise it won't happen on this trip." Ari smiled hopefully, waiting for Spike to give in.
Spike had to control himself to not allow the big, goofy grin that was threatening to break out across his face at the mention of his relationship status. He was still having trouble believing that he and Buffy were back together – it had only been a week apart, but it had felt like ages and it was all so different now. He had never expected Buffy to give him a real chance at making her happy. And now he had that opportunity and more.
"I'm not going to Tijuana with you, lamb. Nothing you can say or do will convince me."
"You really are a stubborn git, aren't you?"
"'Yes I am. 'Sides, aren't you here on work?"
"Yes, but I went to the Post Office last night after the reception –"
"Since when have there been Oracles in Sunnyhell?"
"Oh, they're temporary. That whole voice-of-God thing they do with Henry really gives me the creeps, so whenever I'm on a big case I get my own personal Oracles."
"Spoiled brat."
"Aren't I? Anyways, things have had to be moved forward – stars aligning too early, sequence of events unforeseen, so on and so on. I'll explain it all when we go to the Magic Box later. I really hate explaining things more than once."
"Alright." Arabella was surprised. She had expected at least a little bit of prodding before he would grudgingly wait for her to explain what was going on. "Rather eager to get over there myself."
A light smile played over Spike's face as he thought about his reasons for going to the Magic Box that evening. Buffy was going to tell her friends about them. Willingly tell them about them. She had been so open the night before, at first Spike had thought it was a dream. And then he had kissed her - partly because he was so happy at her being honest, and partly to see if it was all real or just a dream. Thinking about the kiss led Spike's mind to thinking about other Buffy-related activities, and soon Spike found himself completely oblivious to anything but the images of Buffy dancing around in his head.
"And I hope you're happy that I was civil with the Slayer at the reception last night. Well, technically, I was really quite rude at first, and maybe a little threatening…but I was quite civil near the end of our conversation." Spike was so lost in his own thoughts, that he had barely heard a word Arabella had said. His brain had only noticed that she was speaking when he heard her mention Buffy, but only focused away from his lust filled thoughts near the end of her speech.
"What conversation, lamb?"
"You weren't bloody listening to a word I said were you?" Arabella sat up from her lazy position beside Spike and crossed her arms over her chest, an annoyed look on her face.
"Sorry, lamb." Spike gave her a small smile, not sorry in the least for his stray thoughts. "My mind is on something else."
"If you say you were thinking about the Slayer, I will rip your heart out and stomp on it is I watch you turn to dust myself, instead letting her do it – again."
"Aren't you being a tad bit hostile?"
"Not really. You should try it – it is in a demon's nature to be violent."
"You're not a demon, and you're always trying to convince me that's not the truth. Besides things are different now."
"Right." Arabella looked at Spike sceptically as she strolled over to his closet, and poked her head inside.
"Things are going to be very different after the little powwow at the Magic Box. There's a meeting at sunset if you're interested." Spike stretched lazily, barely able to contain his grin as he thought about just how different things would be.
"I would be, but then I would have had to been there over half an hour ago," Arabella said indifferently, content to rummage through the black that made up Spike's wardrobe. "You know, I think you had this same T-shirt in the 1950s." Arabella turned around, said T-shirt in her hand, only to find the room empty. "Well that was rather rude."
*****
Buffy sat at the table in the Magic Box, angrily glaring at her watch. Her day had been horrible, and the fact that Spike was over a half hour late was really not helping her mood. When she had woken up this morning, a grin had been plastered across her face. For the first time in a long time, she was happy. There will still outstanding bills to be paid, a job that she hated, and Dawn's problems to deal with, but she didn't care. She knew everything would be alright because she had Spike. Finally admitting how she felt had released a weight from her shoulders. The amazed, happy look and soft kisses Spike had given her the previous night had filled her with a warmth and calmness. So she had woken up with a grin the morning that had quickly faded.
That Morning…
Buffy stretched leisurely, glancing over at the clock casually to see how long she had before she needed to get moving. When she saw that the glowing numbers on the clock display said 10:37, her eyebrows had knitted together pensively. Where was she meant to be at 10:37? With a start, Buffy shot out of bed. She was meant to be at work, halfway through her morning shift which had started at seven. Buffy had grudgingly accepted the shift after getting both Friday and Saturday off for the wedding, even though they were peak days at the Doublemeat. After saying goodbye to Spike and heading into her house the previous night, she had gone straight upstairs and into a cold shower, and then promptly curled up in a ball on her bed, completely forgetting that she needed to set her alarm.
And now she was late, very, very late. When she finally arrived at the Palace, she rushed in the back, pulling the ugly hat that was her uniform on as she did so. She was met by a very angry manager, who was holding a box that held the contents of her locker. As quickly as Buffy had come through the door, she was out. She didn't even say a word, vaguely hearing three strikes and last straw before the box was shoved into her hands and both she and the box were shoved out the employee entrance. In a daze, Buffy wondered around, heedless to the stares she was getting at the chicken-cow hybrid that was on her head. After about an hour of wandering, Buffy found herself in a familiar graveyard. Going to the crypt, she went to open the door with a new found purpose before she realized that Spike no longer lived there. Sighing, she turned around and headed towards Revello.
When Buffy got home, she was met by a grinning Willow at the door. She heard her say something about Tara, but escaped to the solitude of her bedroom as quickly as she could. Locking the door behind her, Buffy pulled the evil shoe box that held all the unpaid bills out from under her bed. Sitting at her desk, she did the math. Over and over and over again, praying that she could find some solution that had not been there before. Some secret trick to making all the bills disappear with enough money being left over for at least some groceries. After three hours of staring at bills and bank statements, Buffy snapped the pencil she had been chewing on in half and threw the two pieces across the room. She then curled up in a ball on her bed, and stared at the clock, willing it to be sun to go down and that it would soon be time to see Spike.
Buffy still really wanted to see Spike. But she didn't want a hug and the support he had always given her. She wanted to see him so that she could slam her fist into his face and yell at him for adding that little touch that made her day all that much worse. Looking around at her friends, Buffy got angrier. It had taken her a long time to convince Anya and Xander to tear themselves away from their bed to come over to the Magic Box. They were leaving for their honeymoon the next morning, and had sequestered themselves in their bedroom until that time. Anya was sitting impatiently, intermittently glaring at her watch and at Buffy. Xander had rolled his eyes when Buffy had insisted they wait for Spike for whatever she had to say, and had been complaining ever since.
"Buffy, we're leaving now." Buffy took her eyes away from the door to see Anya and Xander standing nervously, ready to leave. "It's been over half an hour, and you've said nothing. We just got married and need to have more sex."
Buffy's knuckles turned white as she clenched her hands into fists, trying desperately to conceal her anger from her friends. With an apologetic smile, she nodded her head. "I understand, sorry for wasting your time. Have a good time on your honeymoon." She was going to kill him. She was going to kill him in the most painful way possible.
Just as the newlyweds were about to exit the shop, Spike came running through the door at full supernatural speed, stopping abruptly as he entered the shop.
Pausing to get a bearing of his surroundings, it took Spike a moment to realize that all eyes were on him.
"Does this mean we have to wait to have orgasms?" Anya said huffily, already heading back to her usual chair. Xander followed her, and although he didn't say anything, for once he looked to be in agreement with his wife completely.
"No, it's okay, you can go," Buffy said in a clipped manner, never taking her eyes off of Spike. "I wouldn't want you to have to wait any longer. Forget I needed to say anything. It's not that important." Buffy turned sharply and walked towards the back exit, needing fresh air before she attacked the vampire in front of her.
Anya and Xander shrugged, and got up to leave. Before they could move towards the door, Spike had his hands up pleadingly. "Just wait a while more, she's just pissed at me. Let me go smooth things over with the Slayer, and you won't have to spend your honeymoon in anticipation of what she had to say." Xander was about to speak up, when he felt a soft touch on his arm. He looked over to find Tara giving him a resolve face that equalled her girlfriend's. Whatever Buffy had to say regarded the vampire and it was obviously important. He took a pouting Anya's hand and guided her back into her chair, willing her to sit and wait for whatever had to be said. Without another word, Spike strode towards the back of the shop.
Spike slid out the back door, quietly closing it behind him. In front of him, Buffy was pacing back and forth. She looked as angry as he had ever seen her. As angry as she had been at Dawn just over a week before. As he tried to slip into the shadows, she spun around and glared at him. He could actually feel the anger coming off her in waves. He just hoped he could get her to forgive him for being so late.
"How dare you. How dare you do that to me, Spike!"
"Luv, I'm sorry I was late. I know it sounds like a stupid excuse, but I overslept."
"Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was, do you? Trying to explain to my friends why they were sitting around doing nothing for almost an entire an hour when I insisted that they had to be there at sundown? I couldn't even give then a real explanation to why it was so important to wait!"
"Buffy, pet, I'm sorry. Please don't get worked up over this." Spike moved forward cautiously, afraid that if he got too close she would send him backwards with her fist.
"Don't get worked up over this? If you had any idea how bad my day has been – this is just the icing on the cake. And what a shock, it's all because of you." The venom in her words was like a slap, and Spike retreated to the shadows. "And you try to shrug it off by saying you over slept. It's just like you."
"Buffy, please listen to me. I've been having these dreams, nightmares, and –"
"I don't want to hear it! God damn it Spike, this is why I can't be with you. You are completely self-involved, you don't really care about anything but yourself. How can I depend on something that can't even be there one time? This was all a big mistake. I just wanted to feel something after the wedding and what Arabella said – and, again, you were convenient. Forget last night ever happened."
At her words, Spike felt something inside him snap. All the pain, all the hurt that had been penned up inside him snapped. Instead of the numbness he had felt a week before, he felt as if his emotions were being magnified. All the pain he felt, all the hurt, and all the love were magnified, and he couldn't contain it anymore.
"You really do know how to rip a bloke's heart out and grind it into oblivion, don't you? Is this all a game to you – is it? Do you just want to see how far you can push me before I break? Because, you know what, you've done it. I'm broken. You've got you're bloody wish, I'm finished."
"What?" Buffy was taken aback by the rawness in his voice. She had expected him to speak, but she never expected the kind of anger that she could hear now.
"I'm finished. I'm finished with all of this. All I have ever done is loved you – yes, I bloody well bollixed it up on more than one occasion, but that doesn't mean I loved you any less. I have experienced more than my share of pain in the last century and a half, and I have to say, you are the bloody queen of pain. I never thought it was possible for anyone to hurt me as much as you have – Glory didn't, Angelus didn't, Dru didn't. And I keep on convincing myself that you can't possibly hurt me anymore – that it will be different the next time round. And every time I begin to believe that it really is different, you hurt me more."
The pain and sadness in Spike's voice had finally snapped Buffy out of the anger she had been blinded by, and the words he had said earlier had sunk in. Why was she being so cruel to him, and why? He had been late. He hadn't committed some horrible sin; he hadn't betrayed her on any level. It was reflex for her to lash out at him, habit. When she was angry or upset, she would always take it out on him. She didn't even realize what she said until after the fact. And now she couldn't take it back. She could hear in voice, and see in his face, that she couldn't take it back.
"I don't want to hurt you anymore." Buffy's words were barely a whisper, but Spike picked them up. With a bitter laugh, he slid down into a sitting position, leaning against the brick wall of the alley, and took a cigarette and his lighter out of a deep pocket.
"Could have fooled me, luv."
"I don't. I – I just get so scared sometimes, and so angry… And it's so much easier to lash out than it is to face things." Buffy slid down beside Spike, looking desperately at him for a sign that he still cared about her. "I'm so sorry, Spike, please."
"I don't think sorry's enough this time, pet. Not for either of us. We hurt, and we hurt, and we hurt, all because of one another. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to be the reason you're in pain."
"I don't want to be the reason you're in pain, either. How do we fix this?"
"Tell them, Buffy. Half of the problem is that you're ashamed of us. And it makes me ashamed, ashamed that I can't be something you're proud of."
"I know. It's just, it's been such a bad time. I was fired, and there's bills, and Dawn… and, please, just wait. Can't we wait until we're good inside before we deal with the outside?"
"I don't know if I can do that, Buffy. I can't be your dirty little secret anymore."
"But –"
"No, luv. No."
"So what then?"
"I don't think I can be here anymore." Spike reached out and wiped the single tear running down Buffy's cheek before he pushed himself up and walked inside. Buffy didn't say a word, she just stared at the spot where he had been.
"But I love you."