Chapter 3 - Talking
It seems I've only just put my phone down when they're here. They sit at the table, Wesley across from me and Gina by my side, and Gina's arm is around my shoulders, and Wes just looks so worried. It makes it harder.
"What happened?" Wes asks.
I shake my head. If I start talking about it, I'll lose the control I have.
"Do you want to see a doctor? What can we do?"
"No, ... no doctors. Just … take me back?" I sound like I'm begging. Maybe I am.
I start to fumble for the money to pay for my coffee, but Gina puts her hand over mine.
"I'll do that," she offers, while Wesley helps me outside.
The car's illegally parked right outside, and I feel surprise that Wes would do that. He bundles me into the back, and then Gina comes and gets in beside me. I can feel my eyes misting, and I don't know why. She sees that, and puts out her arms to me, and I lean against her, so relieved by the contact that I could cry for that alone.
The journey is largely silent. Gina makes occasional shushing noises, telling me it'll be ok. How can she know it'll be ok, when I don't even know what it is?
We get back, and Gina offers to get me into bed. The prospect makes me panic, because being in bed means being alone, and being in bed means sleep, which probably means dreams. She notices and quickly backtracks, settling me on a sofa in the main living room and sitting beside me.
Wes comes in a few minutes later, and he sits facing us. "Buffy, can you tell us what's wrong? What happened?"
They both look so scared, and I know I've got to tell them, but it all sounds so silly.
"I thought I saw him," I manage.
"Who? Angel?" Wes demands, then looks down, and I know Gina has silently admonished him for being too forceful.
"It's ok," I reassure him. "No, not Angel, Spike."
"Oh," Wes says, but he's looking confused.
"Why would seeing Spike, or thinking you see him, have this effect? Is it a bad memory, did he hurt you or something?"
I think back. Yes, he hurt me. He really did, but I hurt him so much more. I decide that the question doesn't need answering, so I tell him something he's not expecting to hear.
"I loved him." Somehow, just that bald statement makes it seem more real than ever before. Wes is looking even more confused.
"Let me get this straight. Spike. Drusilla's childe. Unsouled vampire. Tortured Angel."
I nod.
"I don't understand," Wes admits. "I think there's a lot of this story I don't know."
I think about where to begin. "You know about the amulet, and what happened?"
"Amulet?" Wes looks mystified.
"Just before Sunnydale was destroyed, Angel came and he had an amulet. He wanted to be my champion, but I wanted Spike to have it."
"I know Angel went to Sunnydale, and I know he said he had something that might be useful, but I never knew what it was. Come to think about it, I never really knew what happened to Sunnydale. That's not like me at all. I would've been asking questions, asking everyone who'd been there. Why didn't I?"
He realises that questions about his own confusion will have to wait.
"Why don't you tell me the whole thing. Maybe you should start with why you would have chosen Spike to be your champion?"
And so I tell them. I start by telling them about how I felt when I first knew Spike loved me. Of course, then I would have said he was obsessed with me, but I know better now. I tell them everything. I tell them how he helped us, and went on helping and looking after Dawn while I was dead. I tell them how he was the only one I could talk to when I got back.
I even describe the way I used him, although I skim over the worst of the details. I tell them how I finished things with him, and how he wouldn't accept it was over. I describe the scene in the bathroom to gasps of horror from Gina. And then I tell them about the soul, and the way Spike was after that, and the way I realised that I loved him.
"Did Angel know about the soul?" Wes asks.
"Yeah, he found out when he came with the amulet."
"Did he know you cared about Spike then?"
"I … I told him.
"He never mentioned it." Wes sounds incredulous. "He knew that I'd been researching prophecies and anything I could get my hands on about souled vampires, and he never said a word."
He's silent for a moment, and I can feel myself relaxing. Somewhere back in my story I loosened my control, but I'm no longer shaking.
"I'm sorry, Buffy," Wesley pulls himself from his own thoughts. "What happened in Sunnydale?"
And so I describe Spike's last few moments. The tears fall freely down my cheeks as I speak, and Gina holds me closer. It's not a happy story, but it just feels so good to be telling it. It feels like it's been bottled up here for seven long years, and the dam has burst.
When I finish, I realise that Gina's shaking slightly, and I look at her face, surprised to see that she's crying too. Wes allows me a couple of moments to pull myself together, then he prompts me to continue.
"I thought I saw him today. He was just ahead of me, and I hurried to catch him. But, when I pulled him round to face me, it wasn't him. It wasn't anything like him. I don't even know how I could have thought… It must be the dreams."
"What dreams?"
"The ones I've been having since we got here."
And so I describe the dreams, telling them that I'd had two of them often before I moved to LA.
"But the dreams stopped when you moved?" Wes insists.
"Yeah."
"Buffy, when you've been on vacation before, away from LA, did you have the dreams then?"
I think about it. "I haven't been out of LA since I moved there, well, at least, not to stay. A couple of day trips, but nothing more. The business took all my time at first, and then there was Angel, and I didn't want to go away and leave him, and he could never get away."
"So, the first time you spend the night away from LA the dreams start again?"
"Yeah."
"Except now the dreams are different, or at least there's a new one?"
"Yes. The others, they were, well, happy. The new one … isn't."
"Could it be a Slayer dream?"
I stop suddenly. The prospect hadn't even occurred to me. I'm sure the others aren't, and I'd just lumped the third with them.
"I don't know, I suppose it could be," I admit.
"Buffy, honey," Gina breaks in, stroking my hair. "Do you want to go and lie down now? You look exhausted."
I realise she's right, and suddenly the prospect of being alone isn't too scary.
"Yeah, I think that'd be a good idea."
We get up from the sofa, and she walks me to my room.
"I'm sorry, Gina," I apologise at the door. "I don't want to spoil your vacation."
"No problem," she reassures me. "Anyway, did you see Wes' face? He's got a puzzle to work on now, and that's far more interesting than the work he's been doing with Giles."
That makes me smile slightly. She's right. Wes did seem remarkably perky.
I'm still smiling when I lie down on the bed, pulling the covers over me. My eyes are closing before I'm even comfortable, and I hope for the happy dreams.
No happy dreams. As soon as it starts, I know how it's going to end, even though the start is different. I'm in an office building, and I recognise it. I knew that I recognised the style before, but I couldn't place it. This time, I know exactly where it is. It's the Wolfram and Hart building.
I've been there a couple of times before with Angel, just to visit. Fighting evil's Angel's business now, not mine.
The entrance is palatial. I go straight to the elevator. Dream-Buffy seems to know where she's going. The button I want isn't there. I don't know how I know it even exists, but I do.
I'm startled by someone coming in behind me. A glance shows Lilah. Now, I've never met Lilah, although Gina mentioned her a time or two. She's someone from Wes' past, and when she's feeling insecure, Gina worries about her. So, how do I know it's Lilah?
"Hi, there," she says brightly. "I think you're looking for this."
She reaches into the pocket of her jacket and pulls out a button, placing it on the panel in front of me.
"Of course, you'll be too late," she adds with a smile that would be sweet if I thought it was genuine.
"You're dead," I remind her.
"Yes, I am," she agrees. "But that doesn't mean I'm finished."
"Finished what?"
"My job. I won't be finished until I've succeeded. Then, well, maybe my contract will be … modified."
"What job is that, then? Irritating me to death?"
"Something so simple? Wouldn't be worth my talents. No, but then, it would spoil all the fun if I told you, wouldn't it? But, because Wes seems to care about you, a word of warning. Leave things alone, or you're going to get your fingers burnt."
She smiles again, but any hint of sweetness, however false, is gone.
"Be seeing you," she offers, before she walks back out into the entrance hall.
Unbidden, the doors close, and the elevator starts to move, the only button illuminated the one she placed there.
It takes several minutes of descent before the doors open. It's the room I remember. The polished marble of the floor extends for several yards in front of me before the pit. I run towards it, and he's there. I check my pockets, looking for anything, a bit of rope, something to hold out to him, but there's nothing. I lie on the floor, inching forwards as far as I can, reaching out to him.
I can feel the heat, it's making my eyes sting, and I can see the skin on my fingers blistering, but I can't reach him. Somehow, though, I don't feel any pain, so I inch further towards him, and I'm so close, I can almost touch him, and then I'm being pulled back, and I know before I look that it's Angel.
He pulls me out of the way, then lets me go.
"You can't reach him, Buffy. You're going to get your fingers burnt if you keep going."
I glance back at the pit, but Spike's gone now, so I throw myself at Angel, punching and kicking him.
"Buffy, wake up." The words seep into my brain, and I know they're not the first, just the first that have penetrated.
I open my eyes, and Wes is there, shaking my shoulder. I sit up quickly, relieved to note that I lay down fully dressed. As I put my hand down onto the bed to pull myself up, I wince in pain. I look at my hands. The fingers on my right hand are blistered and reddened. I stare at them uncomprehendingly, as Wes does the same.
He pulls me into the bathroom and turns on the cold water, pushing my hand under the flow. Once I'm there, he goes, returning a few moments later with the first aid kit from the car. He's sorting out what's needed, but motions to me to keep my fingers in the flowing water.
Gina pokes her head into the bathroom, looking sleepy.
"I heard the door," she explains, then takes in the situation.
"What've you done?" she asks, turning my hand over without removing it from the soothing water.
"I … dreamt about Spike and the pit again. When I woke up …"
Between them, they get my hand cleaned and bandaged. I know it'll be fine in no time, Slayer healing being what it is, but the fuss helps me to keep the circumstances out of my mind for a little while. I know it's only a temporary reprieve, because Wes'll be asking questions as soon as he's finished.
I'm not disappointed. Gina tries to get him to wait, but I shake my head. There's something going on and Wes is my best hope for finding out what. I describe the dream, which I remember in detail. I see Wes wince at Lilah's involvement, but he covers well. When I'm finished, he seems deep in thought.
"Have you ever been injured in a Slayer dream before?"
"No," I answer.
"That's what I thought. I don't think this is a Slayer dream, but I'm certain it has a purpose of some sort."
I nod.
"I've been busy while you were both napping," he tells us. "I've been interrogating the W&H system for information on the amulet or on Spike's soul. There's nothing. I've got the highest clearance I know of, except maybe for Angel, and there's nothing. As far as the records are concerned, there's only ever been one vampire with a soul, and he's the dark and brooding one."
"Well, if no one other than Angel knew, and he didn't tell anyone …" I offer.
"The system at W&H doesn't rely on anything as esoteric as people filing reports. We have an … automated system. Things happen, and the information is available. If there's nothing on Spike's soul or the amulet, it's because someone doesn't want anyone else to know about them."
"Who?" I ask.
"Only two possibilities I can think of," he answers, looking grim. "It's either Angel, or the senior partners haven't left us alone as much as they've led us to believe. Of course, whatever's stopped us from remembering anything, may also be working on Angel."
My first reaction is to argue that it can't be Angel. I mean, why would he want to do it? What would he have to gain from keeping quiet about everything, and yet it's obvious he did, even if he's not responsible for actively hiding the information.
"Buffy," Gina says, softly. "Something I though about while I was sitting on the deck, before I nodded off. With your background, you know how important it is not to keep things to yourself. So, why have you never told me about Spike?"
She almost sounds hurt, and I understand that. I think I would be too, if she kept something from me when talking about it could help.
"I used to talk about it. Not to just anyone, but Dawn and Willow. Dawn loved him too, but in a different way, but I wonder if one of the reasons she moved out of state was because I couldn't move on, couldn't stop talking about him and what he did for us." I pause, remembering that time.
"Then, I moved to LA, and I just didn't want to talk about him any more. Now I think about it, it's odd. It was as if one day he was in my thoughts, and the next he wasn't. I can't understand why I'd change so suddenly."
"I have my suspicions," Wes states, and I turn to face him. "The simple fact that I've never asked Angel about what happened, never thought to ask you, is quite simply out of character. Add to that the fact that I've never before thought to check the W&H system for the information, and you've got something that screams 'conspiracy' at me."
"What about when you've been away? You must've been out of LA some time."
"Yes, I have, but since it's not been something I was thinking about before I left, I can only assume that my not thinking about it then was a completely natural phenomenon. The rest of it, I've got to assume is some sort of magic at work."
Gina pales at his words. Her hands stray to her stomach, caressing the child that's protected there. "So, what do we do?"
"You, my love, do nothing. I don't want you involved in this at all."
"But …" she starts to argue.
"I mean it, Gina. I don't want you involved in the magic. I think Buffy'd still appreciate your friendship, though."
She squeezes my left hand, as if trying to reassure me that she's still there for me.
"What I want to do, is get someone to see if they can find something. I'd use someone at W&H, but if this is Angel, or even the Senior Partners, then we don't know who we can trust."
He thinks for a moment. "Do you think Willow would be able to pay us a visit?"
"I don't know," I answer. "I can call and ask …"
"Good. Until we know the nature of the spell that's been used, we can't counter it. It's important that we get back to LA with our memories intact, or we'll be unable to investigate this. Someone doesn't want us to know something about Spike and that amulet. And, my experience tells me that if they've gone to this much trouble, then it's probably very important."