Disclaimer: see chapter 1

8: Fading

"An alley? She's going into a dark alley, alone with him?" Angel asked no one in particular. The Buffy from the training room kicked his shins lightly, but not without meaning. She was beginning to regret taking Angel to watch this memory, but she'd had hopes it might help shrink the Buffy- loves-me part of his ego back to a healthy size. It had been next on the agenda for Spike, but she figured his ego needed no shrinking of any kind anyway, so it was just as well he was absent.

Dawn could hear Spike talking to her sister, and she turned around to the pair behind her. "Shut up, guys, the memory's playing already." God, she thought, I talk like it's a movie or something. This is my sister's brain! The severity of the situation crashed down on the Slayer's sister. Buffy was dying; they were in her mind to find a way to save her. Nope, definitely not a picnic.

"That's all it is to you, isn't it? Just another body!"

He sighed, not sure exactly what to say. Everything he said seemed to make it worse. "Buffy-"

She punched him angrily. He managed to deflect the first few punches, but she went around him and delivered a sound blow to his stomach. He was obviously in pain, but he said nothing. She hit him a few times more, waiting for him to block her hit her back.

He did nothing. "Come on, that's it, put it on me," he told her. "Put it all on me."

Furiously, she kicked him hard. "That's my girl."

"I am not your girl!" she shouted. She hit him hard, knocking him to the ground. She straddled him and punched him repeatedly. "You don't ... have a soul! There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside! You can't feel anything real!"

She punched him as hard as she could, waiting for her assault to become too much and cause him to retaliate.

"I could never...be your girl!" She hit him again and again, punctuating her shouts with blows. Spike's bloody face returned to human, and with his clear blue eyes he passively watched her pummel him.

Suddenly she realized that he wasn't going to do anything. He was letting her take all her anger out on him, allowing her to beat him to a pulp. He looked almost as bad as after Glory.

Her rain of punches stopped as she stared at the battered vampire in horror.

"You always hurt ... the one you love, pet."

She got up, still staring at him in a look that mixed dread and disbelief.

"Buffy?"

She walked past him determinedly.

He tried to stop her but his bruised body couldn't reach. In despair and pain, he murmured, "Buffy..."

Angel stared in shock. Then he turned to the other two. "What makes Spike think she could be in love with him? She never treated me like that, even when I was evil!"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Angel, did you see her take Spike and leave the room? She OBVIOUSLY hates this memory, and she OBVIOUSLY didn't want him to see it, even though he was supposed to." At Angel's blank stare of non-comprehension, she sighed exasperatedly. "Imperceptive much?"

Training-room Buffy coughed several times, eventually managing to gasp in some breath. Dawn and Angel heard her through their bickering, and turned worried glances on her. "I'm fine," she told them moodily. "It just means there isn't much time."

The pair of blondes walked in an uncomfortable silence that was stifling. Spike couldn't help getting the impression that he'd said something wrong, although he had no idea what it could have been. It seemed like he hadn't said much of anything. "Bugger. Angel. Watch out, luv, wouldn't fancy getting caught in the crossfire."

"He's still here?" was Buffy's lifeless response.

Spike watched. And listened. "Seems he's talking the ears off of your younger counterpart over there."

Buffy looked and groaned. "Great. And he's standing right in front of my door, too."

The vampire and the Slayer apprehensively approached Angel, Dawn, and the younger Buffy, who was trying to sneak off while Angel wasn't looking.

"Buffy!" exclaimed Angel. "Spike didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Oh, he DID...But not half as much as I hurt him." Buffy's eyes twinkled, implying hurting of the less-bad variety. "He knows so many things to do with chains." Spike glanced at his Grandsire, and noticed with delight that Angel was spluttering and furious.

Dawn noticed that something about her sister seemed off – she'd verbally attacked Angel for only one anti-Spike statement. Obviously more had happened to put her in such a foul mood than she was letting on.

"Well anyway," Buffy continued, "You're blocking the door I need, so I'd seriously appreciate it if you'd move." Angel stared at her, seemingly in shock, and then stepped to the side. Buffy walked through the wall, and Spike walked up to the door. As he passed Angel he spared the other vampire what looked like a forcedly apologetic glance. "Sorry 'bout that," he muttered, and opened the door.

Angel leapt at the door as it shut, trying to pull it open. But the door appeared to be jammed or locked very securely, because all of his vampire strength didn't even made the door creak. "Damn it!" shouted Angel. "He's with her, alone, again!"

"Didn't Willow say she got locked out of some of the memories too?" ventured Dawn.

Angel nodded, thinking about it. Willow had mentioned something about not having the keys, and that only Buffy's champion actually had the keys. "Damn it!" he announced once more. Somehow Spike, and...and whatever it was about him, had managed to get himself invited into Buffy's memories. It seemed there was nothing he could do. Furthermore, training-room Buffy had finally sneaked off. The various Buffies that wandered down the hallway periodically all rushed past Angel. Rejection, he decided, was not a pleasant feeling.

"Ohhh. Oh, my God!" Buffy hugged the man fiercely. "I was freaking out! You just disappeared."

Angelus looked at her with an aloof demeanor. "What? I took off." He went to his bed and grabbed his shirt. "You got a lot to learn about men, kiddo. Although I guess you proved that last night."

Spike was furious. Couldn't the bastard see what he was doing to this wonderful girl who didn't deserve a word of his taunting?

Buffy couldn't believe what she was hearing. Angel wasn't like this, he was sweet and caring, and he loved her. He really couldn't be this mean, unless...unless she'd been horrible. "I, I don't understand. Was it m-me?" Meekly, she continued, "Was I not good?"

Buffy watched from beside Spike, the same emotions running through her body as through the 17-year-old's. There was a place somewhere inside of her that would always be an insecure little girl, desiring praise. Wanting to feel wanted. She smiled as she felt Spike's arms around her waist. He knew that little girl and loved her as much as he loved the rest of the Buffy package.

Angelus laughed loudly. "You were great. Really. I thought you were a pro." He laughed again, as if they both found it absolutely hilarious. "Come on, Buffy. It's not like I've never been there before."

In an almost condescending manner, he brought his hand up to brush her face, but she pulled back. "Don't touch me."

"I should've known you wouldn't be able to handle it."

"Angel!" she called, as he started to leave. He turned to look at her. "I love you."

"Love you, too." Walking away, he said over his shoulder, "I'll call you."

As soon as he passed through the door, Buffy's wet eyes began leaking more profusely. How could he be treating her like this? He was acting like everything she'd thought Angel wasn't.

Spike couldn't take it anymore. The sight of the little Buffy, tears streaming down her young face, was overwhelming, and he knew he had to do whatever was in his power to stop her from hurting so much. He took a few tentative steps, wondering if he was supposed to.

"Go on," the older Buffy urged.

"There now, pet," he said softly to the crying teenager.

The small Buffy turned red-rimmed eyes on him. "Spike?" she asked with scorn, "What are you doing here?"

"Damage control," he said simply. "Bugger, he can be a right bastard, can't he." His gaze followed the direction Angel had gone.

Buffy sniffed. "I still don't get what game you're playing with me." She looked up at the bleached-blonde who'd recently threatened to kill her numerous times.

"Don't do the games, luv. That's Dru's piece of cake. Or, Angel's – only when he's evil, of course."

The 17-year-old Buffy looked up at him skeptically. "But aren't you supposed to be evil? You know, Big Bad, trying to kill me and all?"

"Well, yeah, but the killing you hasn't been working out so well." He smiled at her reassuringly, also seeing the humorous element to his words. "Plus I kind of lost my incentive. And I figure, what with Angelus and all, we're kind of fighting for a common cause."

Little Buffy rubbed her swollen eyes. "So you're, like, my...ally?"

He brushed her soft hair off her face. "Of sorts." She thought about this, and then burst out laughing. "Hey, what's so funny?" he demanded.

"It's just – Angel's all big with the souly goodness and all, and here YOU are, pretending to be evil, and treating me nicer than he ever has." She smoothed a platinum curl that was springing out of his gel. "You just suck at being the Big Bad."

The blonde vamp protested. "Now that's not very –"

"– In a nice way," high school Buffy amended. She watched him look into her eyes with an expression of...love, she was inclined to say, even though that couldn't be right. However, having his gaze constantly on her eventually made her self-conscious, and she avoided his eyes. Looking around Angel's bedroom, she noticed the crumpled post-sex sheets. That night with him, and all the things he'd just said to her, came flooding back.

The Slayer wiped tears off her cheeks, but couldn't stop crying. Spike watched her shoulders heaving and impulsively wrapped his arms around them. "Shh...It'll be alright, pet. Not good or nice, but you'll pull through. Don't get me wrong, he'll be cruel as he can manage...But you're stronger than that, Buffy."

Sobbing silently, she leaned into his arms. It was strange, having her arch- enemy there to hold her after Angel hurt her. Strange, but nice. She nestled her cheek against his chest.

Spike looked up when he heard footsteps, but continued to stroke Buffy's hair. It was the guide-Buffy. Slowly 17-year-old Buffy picked her head up and looked at her older counterpart. "How's he doing? Are you taking him to the real thing?" she asked hopefully.

"He's not ready," replied the other Buffy, her voice dead and emotionless. With a slight hint of sadness, she explained, "He still doesn't understand."

The younger Buffy glared at her older counterpart with a look that reminded Spike of Dawn. "Well, I'm not surprised, after the way you acted."

"Neither am I."

Somberly, the little Buffy climbed out of his arms and gently kissed his forehead. "Good luck," she whispered. "But hurry – we need our champion." She smiled at him as he got up to follow the older Buffy. For those few seconds, he'd been sure he'd gone to heaven and been kissed by an angel.

"Why do these things keep happening to me? How can she pick him over me?" Angel brooded aloud.

"She's rejected you before?" Dawn inquired, a little more enthusiastically than was altogether respectful. Despite past traumas concerning Spike, she'd always been more of a Spike fan than an Angel fan.

"Well, when I came by to give her the amulet – you know, the one Spike used – she didn't want me to stay. She wouldn't say it, but I figured it was about him."

The pair wandered along the hallway, Angel pausing at various doors and trying to open them. The further they traveled, the fewer doors allowed the vampire in. The only memories he could see were from before he'd left Sunnydale, plus a few during Buffy's college years.

After his 90th rejection or so, Angel slammed his fist into the wall in frustration. "No!"

"The wall do something to you?" Dawn asked sarcastically, wearing a very Spike-ish expression on her face.

Angel looked at her hopelessly, and Dawn felt sorry for him, even though he'd hurt Spike in the past and made her sister cry. "I realize that Spike's the champion – I understand that – but I still don't see why I can't at least try! I want her to come back as much as he does!"

"Maybe...these memories are, like, private. Maybe she doesn't want to share them with us, and that's why we can't get in?" Dawn suggested, knowing Angel wouldn't appreciate the idea. "Maybe the best way to get her back is just to wait, for something you can do. You should just let Spike save her, since it's not like he's gonna ever give up." The big brooder stared at a spot on the wall in silence.

"Does she really love him?" Angel murmured to himself. "Does she really not love me anymore?"

Buffy and Spike stood in an abandoned room, pressed up against the wall beside a large comfy chair. The two of them watched as a different Buffy and Spike conversed.

Buffy was hugging her knees on top of a bed, and Spike knelt on the floor beside her.

Commandingly, he told her, "You listen to me. I've been alive a bit longer than you and dead a lot longer than that. I've seen things you couldn't imagine and done things I'd prefer you didn't.

"I don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain –" she smiled weakly – "So I make a lot of mistakes. A lot of wrong bloody calls. A hundred plus years and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of." He looked into her eyes for emphasis. "You."

He reached up to touch her face, but she turned it away. She didn't deserve this devotion, this worship.

Suddenly the guide-Buffy coughed violently. The Spike beside her looked at her worriedly, noticing that she looked a little pink-cheeked.

The memory-Spike placed his fingers on the far side of Buffy's chin and turned her head to face him. "Hey, look at me," he said. "I'm not asking you for anything."

His expression grew even gentler, and intensely sincere. She'd have been a fool not to believe even one word of what he said.

"When I say I love you, it's not because I want you, or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do...how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are."

The other Spike smiled softly.

"You are a hell of a woman."

Tears dripped down Buffy's cheeks as she looked down at the man kneeling before her.

"You're the one, Buffy."

Sad and scared, Buffy replied, "I don't want to be the one."

"I don't want to be this good-looking and athletic," Spike joked. "We all have crosses to bear." To that, Buffy smiled in spite of herself. He really was a poet at heart; he was so good with words, and always knew exactly what to say.

The other Buffy laughed at him, but the laugh dissolved into another coughing fit, leaving her winded for several moments after.

"You get some rest now." Looking at her tenderly, he got up and approached the door. "I'll check in before first light. You can decide how you want –"

"Spike?" He turned towards her again.

The guide-Buffy found her Spike's hand and squeezed it gently.

Buffy continued tentatively. "Could you stay here?"

A little surprised but in no way planning on declining, Spike replied reassuringly. "Sure." He shrugged off his duster. "That diabolical torture device, the comfy chair. Do me fine."

Buffy responded uncertainly. "No. I mean... here." She patted the space on the bed beside her.

Spike cocked his head curiously.

Shyly, she continued in a soft voice. "Will you just hold me?"

Spike nodded and walked to the bed, sitting down beside her. Lovingly he wrapped his arms around her, and she snuggled into him with a peaceful expression.

The other Buffy looked at the vampire holding her hand, as if trying to gauge something. Wincing, she coughed again, having to look away.

"Buffy? Buffy, what's wrong?"

"I..." she coughed again. "Spike, we need to go now, ready or not. We can't last much longer." She collapsed in another coughing fit. He picked her up in his arms, following her directions.

Turn right, go straight, turn left up the stairs... He ran it over and over in his head.

Along the way, she started sobbing in between coughs. "Spike...I don't want to die again..."

"You won't, luv. I don't know where your champion is, but I'll do anything. Anything for you." She smiled hopefully. "Just tell me what to do."

You know.