Severed Ties
Chapter 12
This Old House
May 18th, 2002
10:50 p.m.
The moment she walked into the living room, Buffy knew there was going to be trouble. The three newcomers gaped at her daughter before they turned disbelieving eyes towards her. Cordelia's mouth opened and closed like a fish while Faith stood with her arms crossed, staring back and forth between Buffy and the Bitlet. But Angel's pained expression was what attracted the slayer's attention.
His eyebrows were scrunched together in deep thought and his eyes sparkled with hints of betrayal. His chest heaved as he took in unnecessary breaths and he glanced from Buffy to Faith and back again before he uttered a single word.
"Buffy…" The slayer cringed at the anguish in his tone. It was a recreation of how he had said her name when she had thrust a sword into him to stop Acathla. Though the guilt that churned in her stomach was not near the intensity of that one moment, it was still present. And as selfish as it may have been, Buffy hated the fact that it was there at all.
"How…?" Angel asked and for the first time Buffy looked at her daughter and noticed the distress in Faith's posture as she eyed Angel warily. Worried, Buffy started towards her daughter but was intercepted by Angel.
"Buffy?" He asked again and this time there was an unmistakable hint of accusation in his tone.
"I'd back off if I were you, mate," Spike growled and stood next to Buffy, ready to strike. The slayer could sense her lover's volatility and she pulled his hand into hers and squeezed gently. She was relieved when his body relaxed and he stared at her with an indescribable tenderness that made her wonder how someone could love her so completely despite all the things she had done. It was at times like this, when his love was the most potent that felt the least deserving of it.
"Angel." Cordelia's voice tore Buffy's gaze from her lover and she refocused on her ex. She watched as the brunette stroked Angel's back soothingly and the effect it had on him. Much like Buffy's touch had done with Spike, Cordelia's presence had called the dark vampire and Buffy noticed the anger fade into the background of his glare.
"So," The former May Queen said, her enthusiastic voice a polar opposite of the somber atmosphere, "are we gonna find out what the hell is going on here anytime soon?"
*&*
May 18th, 2002
11:12 p.m.
"So," Cordelia said from her seat next to Angel on the couch that they shared with the two Wiccas. "Faith is Buffy and Spike's daughter from the future. She was sent in back to change things--" on several protesting looks, she held her hands up, "at least that's one of the theories. Now, sent back to "retrieve" her was Seth, a bad ass bloodsucker--no offense." she said to Angel and gave Spike a perfunctory glance.
"None taken," Spike replied sarcastically and the former cheerleader rolled her eyes before she continued the summation.
"Anyway, this Seth guy teams up with Mrs. Calendar…who is actually the First in human form. The First has Seth bring Dawn--who is a mythical Key…"
"Was," the teen reminded and didn't try to hide the annoyance in her tone.
"Sorry. 'Was' it is, then. So, the First does this ritual where she joins with Dawn and they become like this all-powerful One being whose powers Dawn can't tap into now but was the reason that Faith was sent back here in the first place. How am I doing so far?"
"Splendid," Buffy said, mimicking the irritation her sister had displayed seconds before.
"Cordelia," Giles said before the woman could get back to her recitation. "As much as I'd love to hear every single detail that's been given about this whole situation, I must remind you that there are far greater things to worry about than making sure you've gotten every aspect of the story correct."
"Amen to that," the dark-haired slayer muttered and received a scathing glare from the seer. She laughed at Cordelia's displeasure before she spoke. "Relax, 'Queen C', I was just screwing with ya."
"No you weren't," Cordelia responded.
Faith shrugged and pushed off from the wall she was leaning against. Buffy had noticed that the once rogue slayer had made sure to keep her distance from the others and Buffy had no problems with that.
"G-man's right," Faith said and snapped Buffy out of her wandering thoughts. "We've all heard the spiel not five minutes ago and, considering the serious bit of terror and death popping up when I close my eyes at night like a good little girl, recapping what we've just been told is the last thing we need to be wasting our time with."
Buffy stifled a giggle when Cordelia cut her eyes at the brunette slayer and the blonde reluctantly pulled her hand away from Spike's, the first time she had released it since he had nearly jumped over her to get at Angel.
Speaking of Angel, she thought as her eyes fell on her first love. When she had come clean about Faith, any trace of emotion had been wiped from his face and Buffy winced slightly at the coolness that now glossed his eyes. Unfortunately, Spike had detected her reaction and when he squeezed her hands in question, his eyes, unlike Angel's, told her how hurt the platinum blonde was. Thankfully, he had kept it hidden from the others though his gaze never wavered from the floor until now.
I'll make it up to you, she whispered with her eyes before turning away from him and re-adorning her slayer cowl.
"Giles and Faith are right, Cordy. You heard me right the first time about who Faith is and where she came from. If you need a rehash of it, we can give it to you later but now we need to focus on whatever it is that's coming." Buffy turned towards the brunette slayer and tried not to show the hostility she still held for the other woman.
"Faith, you said you've had slayer dreams, too?"
"That would be a yes," she replied with her former bravado except that Buffy saw right through it. The other woman was shaken by the simple thought of what her dreams had held and if they were as bad as Buffy's, well the blonde didn't blame her one bit.
"Giles, do you want to take Faith in the kitchen, have her tell you what she remembers?"
"Yes, I think that would be appropriate," the Watcher affirmed and sat up before walking over to the young woman. He touched her on the shoulder and she flinched. Buffy couldn't tell whether it was from fear or surprise at the comforting touch but decided to put it out of her mind as the Watcher led the young woman out of the room.
"Wills, Tara, Dawn. I really don't think we really need to discuss anything else. You might as well…" Buffy stopped as a bought of dizziness overcame her but before she righted herself two strong hands gripped her hips.
"There now, luv," Spike said and at his soothing voice Buffy instinctively leaned against him.
"Mum," Faith asked and got up from where she was sitting on the arm of the recliner. "Are you okay?"
Buffy smiled tightly, thankful for Spike's support and her daughter's concern. "Fine, Bitlet," she said and was greeted with a tentative smile from the young woman. "Just a little dizzy is all."
"Maybe you should get some rest," Tara offered and Willow squeezed the Wicca's hand in affirmation.
"Tara's right. You just got out of the hospital today and you've been going every since you got home."
"Hospital?" Angel asked after a questioning glance at Cordelia.
"Yeah, Buffy," Dawn said. It was her first time speaking since Angel and the others had arrived. "It's not like you just had a bump on the head or something. You were in a coma for almost two months.
"Excuse me," Angel said loudly, breaking up the huddle. "But what the hell is going on here?"
Buffy frowned at Angel's outburst before pulling away from Spike and looking him in the eye. She didn't even ask the question before he answered with a sheepish yet defiant smile plastered across his face.
"Sorry, pet," he said and shrugged, "but there was a failure on our part to communicate your--situation to the Poof."
Ignoring the irresistible urge to slap that infuriating smirk off Spike's face, Buffy shook her head before glancing at Angel. Oh, if she thought he was furious earlier, there were no words to describe the look in his eyes now. Of course this time his anger was focused on a particularly smug William the Bloody instead of her and Buffy couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief to that.
Still, she thought, I've got to do some damage control.
"Fine," she said and pinned Angel with a warning glance, "I'll fill Angel in on what happened and—" she heard Spike about to protest but held up her hand and he wisely closed his mouth albeit reluctantly. "And the rest of you can go to sleep. Cordy, you can rest on the couch for the time being. I'm assuming you guys made reservations for lodgings. I would offer you to stay here but it's already 'Full House'."
"It's fine, Buffy," Cordelia smiled and glanced at the seething elder vampire, "we made arrangements. Don't worry about us."
Buffy nodded and turned to Angel. "You wanna go outside?" His brown eyes finally dropped from Spike and down to her. They softened slightly and he answered her with a nod before stalking out the room, leaving the others in a blanketed silence.
"Okay," Dawn said, "can we say groucho. I knew there was a reason I never liked him."
"Dawn," Buffy warned.
"Niblet's right," Spike said and Buffy turned to her lover. His eyes widened at the anger dancing in her hazel eyes and he opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.
"I can't believe you didn't tell him I was in a coma." Buffy saw the hurt and insecurity flash across his cerulean eyes but his trademark cockiness and insolence quickly covered it.
"Sorry, luv," he said, "but my mind was a bit preoccupied by you and Glinda layin' up in bed unconscious. And I was makin' sure that Rupes and Bitlet were healin' nice and proper-like. So forgive me if I didn't make it a priority to make sure the pedantic Poof was kept in the loop." Buffy flinched at the harshness of his words and, although she knew that he was right, anger got the better of her at his less than friendly tone.
"God, you just don't get it, do you?"
"Guess I don't, luv," he whispered flippantly, making her even angrier.
"Angel is important to me, do you get that? We may not be friends, as someone once said, but that doesn't mean he's out of my life."
"And whose fault is that?" Spike replied heatedly. "Whose fault is it that you compare everybody else to that soddin' Neanderthal. 'Oh Angel wouldn't do this, he would do that'," he mocked and plastered a dreamy look to his face that infuriated Buffy even more.
"What is wrong with you?"
"Mum?" Faith said, attempting to break up the impending meltdown.
"Wrong with me?" Spike asked, offended. "What's wrong with me is that I'm always the one giving the bloody concessions. What's wrong with me is that I never do things for myself but for you."
"So that's my fault?"
"Buffy…" Willow murmured but was interrupted by Spike's snarky reply.
"Of course not, Slayer. Nothing is ever your fault. You never do anything wrong and neither does your precious Angel. It's amazing you two lovebirds still aren't together."
"Well maybe if we were I wouldn't have to deal with your shit," she replied and instantly regretted it. The anger and indifference instantly melted from Spike's face and his shoulders drooped noticeably. His eyes glistened with unshed tears and it was identical to the look he had given her after she broke it off.
God, am I that vindictive? She asked herself and took a step towards Spike, her hand out to cup his face but he stepped back and turned away. She couldn't hide the hurt on her face but his eyes never took her in. Shaking his head, Spike through on an obvious façade of cockiness and addressed the slayer.
"Well, now that you mention it, Slayer, this place is quite cramped. Reckon I'll vacate the premises for a spell." He sauntered out the room and Buffy followed.
"Spike, wait," she said as he wiggled into his duster.
"Sorry, Slayer," he said coolly, "things to do, demons to kill." He swung open the door and bumped into Angel who was standing on the porch.
"What the…" Angel began and turned to Buffy.
"Just leave it, Angel" she muttered and watched Spike's lithe form flee into the night. "Just leave it."
*&*
May 18th, 2002
11:31 p.m.
The scuff of his boots against the concrete was a welcome distraction for the morose vampire. The consistent scraping was the only thing that cut into the chaotic thoughts that swirled together in his brain. He was used to the ambivalent emotions that assaulted him in his Slayer's presence but to have her push his sense into overload in such a short amount of time was an accomplishment even for her.
"Bloody Kewpie doll for the Slayer," the vampire spat as he slipped another fag into his mouth. Stopping briefly to light it, he resumed his journey through town, thankful for the bitter yet calming flavor of nicotine as it slunk down his throat.
What has she done to me? He thought. What have I become for her? Am I even myself anymore? There was no need to respond the question because he already knew what the answer would be. Spike knew with a resentful finality that the demon of lore that had plowed into Sunnydale nearly five years ago was gone. Even the lost vampire of two years back had been altered, twisted by the slayer's will to be nothing more than a lovesick puppy to be kicked and rewarded as she saw fit. She cared for him in that same way but she would never look at him as she did Angel. She would never worry about disappointing Spike, oh no; he was too far beneath her to disappoint.
Spike angrily hurled the cigarette to the ground, stomping it into oblivion hoping that the minute violence could satiate the tightness in his undead chest. Removing his foot from the obliterated fag, the vampire let out a primordial scream that echoed up and down the empty street. His throat burned as he gave voice to his frustration, the stress on his vocal cords a welcome disruption from the screaming questions that his brain continued to shove at him.
What does she see in me?
Does she love me?
Will she always love me?
Will she find someone else—someone normal after she tires of me?
What happens if Angel's soul is ever restored permanently?
Why am I behavin' like a soddin' wanker?
At that last question, Spike's roar of frustration fizzled into a guttural chuckle that, after several minutes had progressed into full-blown laughter. There was no humor in it, however; only the promise of safety from the tears that beckoned to be released. Why could she turn him inside out so easily? Yes, he could admit that he had always been the emotional type—something Angelus despised—but the way Buffy made him want to cry sometimes was beyond his nature.
"Don't 'ave too much o' my nature left," he whispered to the surrounding silence. He had never been one to follow the expectations of society--whether the upper-crust Londoners of the past nor the vampiric traditions of his second life—but to have stumbled so far off the trail for the love of a woman, the woman, was completely...
"Me," he admitted with a sigh. As much as he fought against it at times of insecurity, times such as tonight, Spike understood and, for the most part, accepted his proclivity to be ruled by the heart. It had been his undoing as a human yet his salvation as a vampire. Of course there were times that he wished nothing more than to have the feelings desert him, to have the ability to burn the poet's heart that still resided within him into ash.
"You poofter," he scolded. Fact of the matter was, Spike knew that his entire being revolved around love and if he didn't have that he'd be nothing more than another empty shell of filth--like Angelus and that was a comparison he did not take a liking to.
No, Spike didn't want to change that part of him just because Buffy had hurt him. As much as he was complaining, he didn't doubt her when she said she loved him. Her embrace of her feelings for him had been obvious the last time they had made love--not shagged, not screwed, not fucked--made love. The glaze of her eyes as she stared into his; the gentle kisses and caresses she ingratiated him with were still fresh in his mind. She didn't hesitate to show him casual affection, either with a brief squeeze of his hand or making out in the hospital garage. And the love in her eyes when she looked at him. No, she loved him all right and he'd be a fool if he didn't see it. But she hadn't given him the one thing he never thought would make a difference but tonight had showed him how important it was.
She still didn't trust him.
Oh, she trusted him in battle as well as with the lives of her and her friends. But what she didn't trust was his judgment on the mundane things. He understood how not calling Angel may have looked but the truth of the matter was that Spike had been too preoccupied with other things to bother with filling the poof in. But, no, Buffy hadn't seen it that way. To her it was just another macho thing for Spike, proving that he had the ins with the slayer instead of Angel. And as much as Spike wanted to flaunt his new relationship in front of his Sire, he wouldn't do it. Well, not overtly, at least since the last time with Riley hadn't quite worked out for Spike's benefit.
Spike ran a shaky hand through his tousled locks and sighed in frustration. He had thought that Buffy loving him was the greatest thing he could ever have and, in most ways, that was true. He never thought having her trust would cause such a rift inside of him but it was there. The gaping hole that had opened after she rejected him had been filled when she had reiterated her love for him that first night in the hospital. But knowing that he didn't have her complete trust had made an incision in that part of him he thought was fulfilled with her love. And it was only a matter of time until that incision widened to a larger fissure that would again pull him to the brink of oblivion.
'Cause if I can't have all of you, I'd rather--
Would he ever have all of her? Would she trust him implicitly like she had Angel or would Spike have to accept living in the former's shadow? As much as he loved Buffy, Spike wasn't sure if he could…
His thoughts were cut off by a bone-rattling scream and Spike fell into a defensive stance. He scanned his surroundings, noticing that he was at the entrance of Heberly cemetery but instincts told him that the scream had not originated so close to him. And if his ears were correct, the sound was coming a mile or so down the road from Shady Groves.
The scream echoed again and Spike flinched from the pain inflected in the cry. If there was something he understood with crystal clarity was how the different levels of pain changed the scream. And judging from the pitch of the last cry, this person was in a hell of a lot of pain.
"A bloke's work is never done," the vampire muttered and, grabbing a stake from the pocket of his duster, took off towards Shady Groves.
A/N: For those who think I am evil, trust me on this. Remember Buffy's dream and what Spike said to her. It will be a major theme of Severed Ties. Also, for those who were confused about the last chapter, C.J. is not immortal. His crack about not being able to die was only a jab at the demon stuttering about how he should be dead. With that said, however, there are a bunch of things that our friend C.J. is hiding, whether it is purposely or subconsciously. Everything will be explained in due time…
Next Chapter: Friends in Need. Buffy and Angel talk on the porch. Bitlet consoles a distraught Faith and Spike comes to the rescue of two guys who really need it. The question is, will he need saving, too?