The smooth grain on the steel deck stood out like sandpaper as she traced it with her fingers in time with the melody she hummed. A tune so perfect it seemed classical, immortal. It held such memories for her, she knew it as a companion rather than just a song, bringing her warmth when she was desolate, a light in the dark that she could hold onto. She stopped it abruptly, her index finger pausing in its path on the floor, when she heard the suction hiss of the hatch opening slowly. She hastily wiped evidence of her tears from her cheeks, though she didn't move from her seat. Jet had seen her enough times like this, sitting alone crying, that she didn't worry, but it helped her to keep at least some dignity intact if he stayed unaware of just how many tears she'd cried.
"I'll be just a minute, Jet. Start dinner without me." Her voice wavered slightly, betraying to the most attuned listener her fragile state. She heard the hatch close gently, and resumed her humming, softer than before, as if she were protecting herself from the embarrassment of another interruption.
She didn't know her mystery audience hadn't gone back inside when the door closed. An almost-stifled chuckle reached her ears, halting her tune again and making her stiffen and blush. She was about to tell Jet to leave her alone when her intruder spoke first.
"You still sing off key."
Her breath hitched. Her eyes grew watery with tears that had only just abated, not indignant at the insult, the words themselves never registered, but unwilling to admit that the voice that had spoken to her so often in her dreams, and nightmares, had originated from the real world. For several seconds, the only sounds penetrating the drawn-out silence was the soft rumbling slap of the waves against the hull, soothing the sharp tension in the air. She swallowed.
"Have I finally lost my mind? That almost sounded real." Her voice sounded weak and lonely, like a child who couldn't find their parents, confused, and painfully sad.
Spike frowned, and he forced himself to remember that two and a half years conscious was much longer than the two and a half years he experienced asleep. He just wished she would turn around and know that he was alive. It broke his heart to see her loneliness practically radiating in waves around her. He wanted to reach out and touch her, run to her, show her he was alive, but his legs could hardly move. Coldness set in as he stood frozen in a stalemate between his body and mind, forced to watch her fall apart.
"Faye…I am real. Turn around."
"That's just what a figment of my imagination would say." She let out a frigid chuckle, but slowly stood up, still facing the sea, letting the setting sun keep her grounded in reality, refusing to give in to insanity, although she wasn't surprised it had finally broken in; it had been knocking on her door for so long. Breathing deep, she glanced skyward, wondering if the real Spike could see her and knew how crazy she was over him.
"Faye, please," he was begging, whispering to her, but she shut her eyes tightly, willing her mirage to fade away and stop causing her so much pain.
"Just leave me alone. You're dead. I loved you, but you left me. You aren't coming back, and I can't start thinking you are or I'm really going to lose it. Just go away…" She spoke fast, desperately, trying to convince herself she wanted his presence to leave her; if he stayed too long she would be under his spell and never wake up.
"Faye, listen to me, I'm alive. You aren't just imagining me, I'm here, Faye. Turn around." He pleaded with her, his heart breaking with each pained word she spoke.
"No, Spike, go away. You can't come back." She tried to block him out completely, on the verge of tears again, too afraid to turn and face whatever her mind had conjured, scared to death that he would be too real for her to ignore.
"I'm here Faye, please..."
"NO! You're NOT REAL and I won't believe you are because it would kill me. Now GO AWAY."
"Dammit, Faye." His heart filled with an immense, burning need to show her, convince her he was there, gathering up his energy and walking as best and fast as he could to her, hands trembling with a mixture of frustrated anger at her stubbornness, and aching sadness and pity for her pain. He stood close to her, and she could feel his presence, though she still wouldn't believe it to be real.
"Faye…I came back. I would have come back sooner, but I've been in a coma. I did what I needed to do by confronting my demons and I'm ready now to begin a life free of my past. I survived and recovered, and it was my memory of you, Faye who helped me through when I thought I was going to die, and I love you too much to see you so broken up because of me. So please, just turn around."
Every word was deliberate and forceful, alive with so many emotions she couldn't place them, and by the time he finished, she was silently sobbing, one hand drawn to her mouth.
"If you're not just in my head, then why did you say you loved me? The real Spike never told me that."
"I was stupid. I thought it would have been better once I died if you never knew, but I didn't count on coming back. I love you, Faye, and I should have said so when I could. I'm sorry."
"What about Julia?"
"Julia moved on. So have I." He grew eager, aware of the walls she had erected crumbling slowly as she started to comprehend that he was really telling the truth, but she noticed too, and built them up again.
"That all sounds too convenient to be real, only something I could have dreamed of, so sorry, you're not real."
"Shit, Faye! What do I have to do?" He answered his own question, and threw his crutches aside, praying he could stand independently, and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face him. His earnest gaze met her startled one, growing to shock, as if she expected his hands would pass right through her, being imaginary and all. His eyes panned her face, searching for some sign of recognition, but it still held a cold, stubborn ignorance.
So he kissed her. Wrapping his arms around her, preventing escape, Spike poured his entire being into her, desperate to prove his own existence. Faye was stunned, and abandoned her denial, instead focusing on the soft, yet urgently forceful feel of his lips against hers. A moment later and it finally hit her.
He came back.
Suddenly she felt as though she was drowning; she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back with even more force than he had shown her, dizzy with need and joy, hungry for any contact she could get. His knees grew unsteady and he sank down to the deck, bringing her with him. She pressed against him, and he laid back, offering no resistance to her advances. She relented reluctantly, needing to breathe, and sat back to look at him.
"Oh Spike…" She pushed a lock of his moss-colored hair out of his eyes, as she stared longingly at him, utterly elated that though she didn't want to get her hopes up at first, he was telling the truth the whole time. "You should have just done that in the first place."
She smiled wider than she had in years, her eyes glistening with tears of joy. Spike lifted a hand to her cheek, and she closed her own over it. He was still trying to recover, feeling the full weight of the situation fall upon him like a ton of bricks. Everything was the way it should have always been, he and Faye together, with their respective pasts behind them forever. He used his other arm to prop himself up into a seated position, the simple movement still straining his muscles to their limit.
As he lifted his eyes to look at her again, he belatedly recognized the absence of the sunlight was making it difficult to see her as well as he wanted to.
"It's getting dark, darling. Should we go back in?"
"As long as you never call me darling again." She responded with a grin.
"Can you get my crutches please, sweetie?"
"Lunkhead." She rolled her eyes as he laughed. Faye helped him get to his feet, handing him said crutches, and he leaned on her while he prepared himself to move again.
"Wow, you really did just come out of a coma." A hint of concern filtered into her voice.
"My muscles need to recover from atrophying after not moving for so long, it might take a while." He grimaced, still hating the fact that he was so helpless, feeling even more inadequate after seeing how much stronger Faye had gotten in comparison.
"Well," she adopted a suggestive smirk, something she was extremely good at, though her eyes sparkled with a genuine mischief her usual tactfully tempting expression lacks when used against bounties, "I'm willing to help out with your physical therapy. I'm sure there are some ah, exercises we could do together…"
They walked back into the ship hand-in-hand, emitting a glow of absolute content.
As soon as Rocky saw them enter the doorway, he knew his job there was done, and when he started up his car to go back to the hospital, it was with a smile on his face and a weight lifted in his heart. He knew his father would agree that his commitment to keeping Spike alive was money well-spent.