Spinning the Wheel 25 - All Cried Out

"I told you it was stupid. But... like you listen to your best friend." Willow exclaimed, gesturing wildly as she entered the Summers' house behind her friend.

"I know, I know. But I can't change it now." Buffy lowered her head as guilt flashed through her entire being.

Three days had passed since the… incident. Three days since she'd heard from Spike. She'd called him yesterday and that morning but he wouldn't pick up the phone. Once or twice she had feared that he could have done something stupid again but she also refused to visit him.

She knew that she had fucked it up. Majorly. And he had every right not to talk to her. Maybe all he needed was time. Just how much time would that be?

She was sorry and she wanted to tell him so. And she missed him.

"What are you going to do now?"

The two young women went into the kitchen. Buffy had invited Willow over after college to go through some stuff for an upcoming test. And for some much needed best-friend-time. She had told the redhead what had happened and ever since then Willow had been fueling her guilt.

"I don't know." Buffy dropped her bag onto the kitchen counter and opened the fridge. "You want something to drink?" She took out a small bottle of orange juice, twisted the cap open and took a sip.

"No, thanks. I'm fine." Willow hopped up onto one of the stools, watching the blonde intently. "But you have to do something. You can't just.. let it end this way."

"But how can I, when he doesn't want to talk to me? I can't just go to his place as if nothing ever happened. You didn't see him, Will. I made a mistake. A big one."

"I told you so - from the very beginning, I told you so - but you wouldn't listen."

"You're not being very supportive. It's your part as my best friend to tell me what I'm supposed to do now and not to give me lectures I already know by heart."

"Well.." Willow thrummed her fingers on the table-top, thinking. "I'd start with the message left on the machine there. The blinking digits are kind of obnoxious."

Buffy glared at her, annoyed. This wasn't helping. At all. And she hated this helpless feeling. If she only knew what she could do to unhappen all this. She sighed deeply and went over to the machine beside the phone and pushed the play-button.

It beeped twice before a computer-voice informed, "You have one new message."

It beeped again and the message played: "Buffy? This is Spike. I need to talk to you. Come to my place when you got time."

That was all. No 'hi', no 'bye'. Buffy stared at the machine as if it had offended her, her mouth slightly agape.

"Buffy? You okay?" Willow asked, concerned, and touched her friend's arm lightly.

"Yeah, I'm.. I'm fine. It's just…" She gestured vaguely at the machine. Her head was spinning a little. The message had taken her totally off guard. Never ever in the world had she expected that.

"What are you going to do?" Willow asked after a minute of silence.

"I don't know." she almost whispered.

"You don't want to go to him and see what he's up to?"

"I don't know." she repeated.

She didn't even know why this was bothering her so much. He wanted to talk to her, something she'd always wanted, from the very beginning. Now it was actually happening. But somehow she was a little scared. What if he told her that he really didn't want to see her again? Ever?

Willow dropped her head on her hands and sighed. "You.. are so complicated. He wants to talk to you. Whatever he wants to tell you, it can't be worse than this. You always wanted him to talk, and now he wants to, too. If you don't go…"

Buffy snapped out of her thoughts. "Are you trying to threaten me?" she asked incredulously.

"No. I'm just trying to tell you what's best and save myself from a maddening headache cause my friend's as stubborn as an old goat."

The blonde smiled at that. "You gonna drop me off by his place?"

"That's what I'm here for. This is my genuine secretly plotted plan." The redhead beamed at her friend and stood.

"I knew you were behind all this. You're like the big bad in this little story, huh?"

Despite her humor, Buffy still felt a little insecure. She didn't know what to expect from the upcoming talk. Maybe he was just going to tell her to stay away from him forever and for always... or this would be the talk. When he would tell her what had really happened. Neither option would be pretty.

The apartment building looked as if someone had dropped a bucket of dirty dishwater over it and Buffy felt as if she was supposed to wade in it. She didn't want to go in, but she had to. Willow had dropped her off a few minutes before, giving her a reassuring speech, but she still refused to go inside. She hated it when she didn't know what to expect. But she had to go in. She owed him.

The next stop came when she stood in front of Spike's door, the key in her hand. It cost her a lot of effort to insert it into the lock, twist it and open the door.

As if she had made a trip back in time, the place was dark. Not as dark as when she'd first come here but there was a dim shadow laying over everything. And she could smell the faint odor of alcohol. She'd already gathered up the strength to go through another suicidal situation again. She didn't know Spike had called her that day, anything could have happened in the meantime.

"Spike?" she asked carefully, walking down the hall towards the door of the living-room.

"In here." His voice was hard, controlled. He sat in front of one of the windows, looking out between the shades as if he was watching someone and didn't want to be watched in return.

"Hi." Buffy said lamely as she entered the room. Her hands clenched over her purse. She didn't know what else to say.

Spike waited a moment for her to approach before he spoke again. "Sit."

But Buffy didn't. She still wanted to say that she was sorry. She had thought about the best way to explain the last two days. "Spike, please.. let me explain all this. Just…"

"Sit. Down." Two single syllables, smacking into her like bullets fired from a gun six feet across the room.

She was so stunned by his sudden outburst that she obeyed and sank down on the couch. He had been angry at her before but this time it was much worse. She couldn't quite fathom what it was his voice indicated and that scared her even more than just his anger.

"You want to know, then hear me out," he snapped, never turning around to face her. He just stared ahead, out of the window into the sinking sun.

It was raining that day. It was more than just rain; water was pouring down on the small town in southern California as if someone had opened some heavenly floodgates.
The sky was deep gray with thick clouds and the downcoming rain blurred every possible line into shapelessness.

The shocks and brakes of the black DeSoto gave an unhealthy shriek as Spike slammed on the brakes at a red traffic light. Loud music was blaring through the speakers, swallowing every sound the car made, even the roaring engine.

He had a cigarette clenched between his lips and took an occasional drag from it before the light changed to green and he put the pedal to the metal again.

A few blocks from the neatly kept house in the outskirts of Sunnydale, he rolled the window down and flicked the cigarette butt out, letting a gust of fresh air and misty rain into the car. Dru hated it when he smoked in the car. Not that he would ever get away from the unhealthy habit but being an upcoming rock-star he had a few clichés to fulfill. So he drove one wreck of a car with blackened windows and smoked what his lungs would take.

It had always bothered Dru but she loved him too much to break up with him about such a thing. He glanced at the dashboard-clock. He was about five minutes late. He was supposed to pick Dru up at her friend's house. He didn't like Darla very much so he just stayed in the car and waited for his girlfriend to come out.

His fellow bandmembers had headed for the club in San Barth a couple of days before; an agent from one of the big record companies was supposed to be attending the gig and there was a huge chance that they would get a contract that night. So the guys wanted to do the set-up as best as possible and do a first sound-check. They hadn't played at that club before, and they wanted everything to be perfect.

Spike had been working on another demo-tape that day and it took him a little more time to finish so they had agreed to let him come a little later. And now he was picking Dru up.

Deep in thoughts about a possible set-list for tonight, Spike's head whipped around to see the dark-haired beauty rip the door open and plop down on the passenger seat. Fine mist was glistening in her hair and she smiled one of those smiles.

"Hey, kitten. I missed you." Almost unconsciously, his right hand slipped around the back of her neck and he drew her in for a hot and passionate kiss.

Dru gave an almost mewling sound, as if she was an actual kitten, before she pulled back from him.

"You ready for the big night?" he asked and coaxed the engine to life again. He had turned down the music so it was just background entertainment.

"Always. You'll be great tonight, my love." She whispered in her sweet voice and leaned back in her seat, stretching a little to show off her slender, pale neck and enough cleavage to make his mouth water. She wore one of his favorite dresses, all black and scarlet silk and lace. He was already anticipating their own little aftershow-party back at the apartment.

Spike pulled the car back onto the street and headed for the interstate leading towards San Barth.

"You had a nice time with your friend?" he asked after they left Sunnydale city limits, glancing at her sideways.

She was looking out the window, a dreamy expression clouding her face. But he was used to that. Dru always looked like that. Sometimes he caught her talking to herself. Things like that didn't scare him anymore. He loved her far too much to seriously bother.

"Yeah, it was nice." she replied simply, turning her head towards him and smiled a slow smile, her dark eyes glimmering in the dim light.

They made almost half of the way in silence, which was pretty unusual. Dru always had something to talk about, even if it was trivial stuff like the clouds or something.

"Dru, luv. What's up? Why are you so quiet?" Spike asked, a little concerned, looking at her briefly.

She turned her head to look at him but he had to face the street. The rain was getting harder and it was difficult enough to see although the windshield wipers were already working at their limits.

"I'm breaking up with you," she said, as if it was the most simple thing in the world.

Spike stared at her for a moment, before looking back at the road again. His mind had short-circuited when she'd said it and it took him about a minute to shift mental gears around the new information. This couldn't be, she couldn't be saying that.

"You're what?" he asked, his mind still reeling.

"I'm moving out. I can't do this anymore." It almost sounded as if she didn't really care, as if she'd made this decision a long time ago and was just saying it just now.

Can't do what? he wanted to ask but almost every rational thought had left the sinking ship about a mile ago. "You can't leave me. I need you." he said instead, his voice pleading.

"I can do what I please. Pull over. I want to get out." Dru wanted to reach over to open the door, but Spike grabbed her wrist, hard, and she let out a short surprised scream. A flicker of actual shock spread over her face when she saw a mixture of rage and despair on his face.

"No, you won't." He let go of her wrist but still tried to look at her and the street at the same time. "Explain it to me. Why do you want to leave? I don't understand."

Dru let out a little girlish giggle as if he was a little child and had just said something totally foolish. "And that's the point, my darling." One of her delicate hands glided over the side of face and she smiled generously. "You don't see." She shook her head, almost disappointed. "All you see is your music and the band. Your eyes are not on me anymore." She bore her eyes into his again, her expression suddenly hard, almost vicious. "Like they used to."

Every little ounce of big bad rocker image vanished and something more vulnerable took hold of him, something he had tried to forget and bury ever since he left England. "Luv, that's not true. I still have eyes for you, always will. I love you, baby." He felt his heart and stomach clenching and tears already stung his eyes.

"No, you don't. Pull over." Dru's voice was maddeningly patient but her eyes were still as cold as a glacier.

"I won't. We talk this out. Everything will be alright." He wanted to make her face him but she pulled away. "I swear."

"No, it won't." her voice was rising now, too, getting a little more high-pitched than before. "Nothing's gonna be alright. It's over. Accept that."

That did it. Anger, white hot and painful, flashed up inside and he grabbed her by the chin, twisting her head so she would look at him. "Luv, you can't just…"

Dru's eyes went wide with horror as she caught a glimpse of the street ahead. Her hand darted out towards the windshield and her breath hitched in her throat for a moment. "Watch out!!" she managed to scream.

Everything else happened in slow motion, laid out in agonizing detail. Spike turned towards the road; rain was almost blocking his view until he saw something huge and blue coming closer and closer.

The car had - thanks to the very distracting conversation - veered to the left and was now on the other side of the road. Spike gripped the steering wheel to pull the DeSoto back onto the proper side but it was too late.

The blue car hit his with a loud crunch, slamming into it with full force. The hood, including some parts of the engine and the left fin were pushed inward through the massive impact; the windshield splintered into a rain of safety glass and there was a another impact as his head hit the steering wheel and the world went black.

It hurt. Much. It was probably the good old Indiana Jones routine, everything hurt except the back of his elbow but he wasn't sure.

His head was pounding as if threatened with a sledgehammer, repeatedly, over several hours straight.

Slowly and already expecting more pain, Spike opened his eyes, first the left then the right. His vision was blurred for a moment and he had to blink before he could see clearly again. But what he saw made him wish he didn't.

There was blood, a lot of blood, sprayed over the dashboard and the remants of the windshield. He tried to move his arms but only the right one responded to his will. His lifted his hand to his face and winced when his fingers came in contact with his broken nose.

After a few moments sounds filtered into his consciousness again and he found the reason that woke him. A young man, barely out of high school, stood beside the car, blood on his face and the rest of his face white as a sheet. He had his hand on Spike's shoulder, shaking him slightly and into another rush of blinding pain.

"Sir? Sir, can you hear me?" He had an ill-sounding voice and it took Spike a lot of effort to turn his head towards the guy.

But he couldn't speak, he just looked at him through half closed eyes and breathed hard through his nose.

"Thank god, you're awake. I'll.. I'll call the police and.. and.. and.. an ambulance, just hold on." The young man scrambled away, almost tripping over his own feet.

Spike's head rolled forward as if he was about to pass out again. Something was nagging on his mind; he just couldn't put a finger on it. Something was missing. As his eyes followed the line of his body, he knew what it was. Every single part of his body hurt as if he'd been run over by a truck except... He couldn't feel his legs. At all.

He tried to focus on his limbs, tried to get them into action but nothing happened. He could feel a sharp pang of pain in his back as he did but that was about everything. Distorted metal blocked most of the view and there was more blood.

When the thought finally reached his brain, he started to panic. Hard. He was trapped, trapped in the mangled wreck of his car and he couldn't move. Adrenaline was pumping through his body and he started to scream at the top of his lungs, as if that would help any. His heart started pounding and the various pain-sources of his body reacted even more.

The young man came back to the car, desperately trying to dial a number on his cell phone. He almost dropped it twice before he reached the wreck. "What? What's wrong?" he asked. He was probably in shock from the way his hands shook.

The first rush of panic subsided and he looked at the boy. "I.. I can't.. I can't move," he pressed through gritted teeth.

The boy knelt down by the door and put a hand on the distorted frame. "I'll call for help. Everything will be alright. Just.. calm down." With that he disappeared again and finally managed to dial 911.

But there was still something else Spike hadn't considered. He had to concentrate, shut out all the pain and panic and try to think a little more clearly. The adrenaline had washed most of the confusion away; that was the only good think about a panic attack - it left you a little clearer afterwards.

And then, a terrible thought struck him. Dru.
She had been in the car with him. She had screamed when his car hit the other. He didn't dare to look over to the passenger seat but he had to know what happened.

Slowly he turned his head and again wished he hadn't.

Dru lay bent forward on the dashboard, her head resting on it as if she was taking a little nap. There was a huge gash on her head. The massive amount of blood made it impossible to see where her black hair started and where it ended. More blood was bubbling up from various cuts and scrapes. Her left arm was twisted and also bleeding. And she stared at him with her dark eyes.

Spike swallowed; he felt bile rising in his throat as he stared at her. "No.. no.. no..." was all he could manage. He reached out with his bloodied hand to touch her face, to see if she was…

She blinked. Slowly, almost too slowly. Spike pulled his hand back as if burned.

"Dru.." he croaked and coughed, sending another wave of universal pain through his body.

Dru opened her lips, trying to say something, but no words came. She just stared at him.

Again, he reached out and touched her face. She felt cold beneath his fingers and he was tracing a line of blood over her cheek. "Shh.. luv. Don't.. don't talk." He felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes and blinked them away.

"Dark." she croaked, her voice almost inaudible. "I can't see."

Spike squeezed his eyes shut but the tears escaped anyway, washing lines onto his blood-covered cheeks. "Everything will be.. alright. Help is on.. the way."

"No… they'll.. come.. too.. late."

He stared at her for a long moment. She blinked several times and it seemed that it became slower from time to time. "No, they'll come.. and.. and save us. It's going to be alright." He wanted to touch her hair but he was too afraid that he might hurt her even more.

When he looked into her eyes, he knew that she was right. They would be too late. They couldn't help her anymore. Her dark orbs were glazing over more and more, he could see it. He couldn't see that she was slipping away from him. And he tried to hold on to her like a drowning man.

"Luv, listen to me, okay?" he had gathered strength so he could speak with an almost clear voice now. The maddening thought that he would lose her drove him forward. "You have to stay awake. You have to stay with me." As far as it was possible, he leaned toward her to make sure that she could hear him. "Just.. listen to me. You have to stay awake." Although it hurt like hell, he put his arms around her slim shoulders, trying not to put too much weight on her weak form. Now that he could feel his other arm again - which was broken as far as he could tell from the pain it caused him to move it - he pulled it into his lap, giving him a little more space to move.

"I'm sorry, my sweet," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks now. "I didn't want this to happen, you have to believe me. I love you, baby. You know I do. I love you more than anything. I knew it from the very first day we met…"
And with that he started babbling almost nonsense stuff into her hear. About how they had met when he was 15 and still the nerdy little boy. How she had taught him stuff, showed him her world. What he'd done for her, how he changed for her. He told her everything, just to keep her awake. She made little mewling noises every once in a while; she couldn't speak anymore. She didn't even wince when he leaned his head against her shoulder. "You remember the first gig we played? The song I sang for you?" he swallowed the tears down, sniffling quietly. And ever so quietly, he began to sing.
"Lonely I saw you standing there, blackest dress and blackest hair, looked at me like no tomorrow, felt no pain and knew no sorrow. You filled my body, my veins, my heart; been never social, never smart; made me run on overdrive; felt like the first night of my life." The last words came out as a whisper.

She was gone.

In the middle of the song, he had felt it, had seen the life whispering out of her eyes. They were half closed now, staring at nothing.

Spike didn't say anything. He didn't feel anything, not even the blinding pain all over his body. Everything was gone with her. He couldn't even cry anymore.
He just sat there, holding her in his arms, his head leaned against her shoulder.

Only days later when he woke from the drug induced coma, he remembered how the EMTs had cut him out of the car almost three hours later. They must have given him some sedative; everything was numb.

With absent eyes he watched how they lifted Dru out of the car and put her into a body bag. He heard somebody talking to him and the sirens of the police and emergency car but nothing mattered anymore.

"I never told anyone about all this. I didn't want them to know that.. that she had to suffer. I just couldn't… but I know. I.. held her.. in my arms when… she died. I felt.. her dying. And I dream about it almost every night. I.. I killed her."

Buffy stared at him as he ended his story. She hadn't said a word. Over an hour had passed and she hadn't so much as blinked. Her heart and guts were tied into tight knots and she didn't dare to breathe now that he was quiet.

His back was still turned to her, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders were constricting and she knew that he was crying. She could hear him sobbing although he tried to muffle the sound.

But then she did what she should have done days, if not weeks ago. She rose from her seat on the couch, walked over to him to kneel between his legs and took him into her arms.

He hesitated first, almost irritated at the sudden touch, but then he responded, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

She had her arms wrapped tight around him, still careful as if she could break him even more. Absently, she rubbed nonsense patterns onto his back, her left hand slipping to the back of his neck, waving through his short curly hair.

She felt tears stinging her own eyes as she felt his seeping through her shirt onto her skin. She'd never seen a grown man crying and it scared her, too. But she knew that she was doing the only right thing.

Three years of pent up guilt, grief and sorrow were pouring out with his tears in this single moment. Everything that had been bothering him, everything he had kept hidden for such a long time. Neither dignity, nor pride, nor anything else mattered anymore. This was something pure, clean and simple. For the first time in three years it wasn't just him. He had told her about it and it had taken off a burden.

Buffy whispered nonsense words into his ear, trying to tell him that it was okay, that it would be alright again and that it wasn't his fault but she could as well have said nothing. It wasn't about words anymore. It was just about being held, about not being alone anymore, about sharing.

She held him like that for what seemed like an eternity. But that, too, was irrelevant.
His sobbing stopped but she still kept holding him, just letting him know that she was there.

Ever so slowly she pulled back from him, her arms still wrapped around his sunken form. She felt her cheek brush against his and leaned a little closer into him. She still had her eyes closed; her own tears dried, too, as her chin rubbed against his. She could feel his breath on her skin.

Her bottom lip touched his first, grazing over it like butterfly wings. But then she began lightly nipping at his lips, before she pressed a feather light kiss on his mouth.

The second their lips touched Spike was lost.
Lost to the pure sensation of it, lost to the sweet vanilla scent of her hair, lost to the feeling of her hot breath against his skin and lost to the peachy taste of her soft lips.

She pulled away slightly but then repeated the kiss, just tasting his lips ever so gently; they nipped at each other, totally oblivious to the world around them. Then, Buffy's tongue darted out, probing at his lips, teasing them a little.

He hesitated for a moment, then opened his mouth slightly, welcoming her, taking her in.
He couldn't remember ever being kissed like this, featherlight and deep at the same time. A variety of sweet sensations was coursing through him when their tongues touched and began a leisurely dance.

Being stripped of all disguises, all the layers of self-defence being peeled away, he was totally vulnerable to it. Emotion, naked and pure, set his body on fire, making his head swim and his thoughts blur into an unfathomable mass.

But he was the first to pull away from the kiss. He didn't open his eyes but lowered his head anyway. Almost absently he licked his lips and shuddered at the remaining sensation.

"You should go." he said quietly.

Buffy stared at him. Her mind reeled at little with the newest turn of the events. She had just kissed him. She hadn't planned that and now she was trying to comprehend. His words didn't fit into her thoughts right now. "What?" she breathed.

"You should go now. Please." His voice was heavy with.. with what? Desire, longing.

She had never heard him talking like that but at the same time she knew that she had to do what he said. It was something in the way his hands were trembling and how a little stray tear rolled down his cheek that told her to go, more than his words did. She didn't want to, she wanted to stay with him... but she knew that she couldn't.

So she rose slowly, waiting for him to maybe change his mind while she was still there. But his words never came. Not as she got her purse from the couch, nor when she made her way into the hallway.

But as she stood in the doorframe to the living-room, she turned around again. He hadn't moved and she could still see him shaking.

"Why?" she asked simply. She didn't know whether she was asking why he had told her all this or why he was sending her away. Both thoughts had jumped into her brain at the same time.

Almost a minute passed before he spoke and she could hear tears in his voice again.

"Because I'm falling in love with you. And I can't bear that."