Title: Raison D'être
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Set during "Normal Again". Instead of trying to kill her friends, Buffy tries to kill herself. Shows the softer side of Spuffy that we didn't really get to see until season 7.
Disclaimer: If I owned anything, Buffy'd still be on the air, and Spike would be mine which wouldn't leave me any time for writing fanfiction, now would it? Oh, and thanks to Jaz for helping me out of my little rut! Couldn't have done it without you!
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"You said it yourself just a second ago. You don't have a sister. It's you're ideal life and I'm not even there." Tears threatened to spill down Dawn's cheeks as she choked the words out. Buffy didn't even want her in her life; that was clear now.

"Dawn, I didn't-"

The brunette narrowed her eyes, and she blinked back her tears. "I have to go do my chores." The words sounded harsh on her tongue as she turned on her heel and stormed out of Buffy's room.

Buffy slowly hugged her knees to her chest. She was so tired, and so confused…she loved her mom, and seeing her parents together was almost enough to make her drop everything. Almost. But Dawn…she'd come to love her sister more than life itself, and Dawn hadn't been in her new reality. Her friends who she shared everything with weren't in the world alongside her.

She didn't know which world was real anymore.

Slowly she brought the steaming mug of tea that Dawn had brought up for her to her lips. It didn't even scald her tongue the slightest bit. She didn't feel anything in this reality. She felt numb to everything except for Spike, and she'd gone and broken things off with him. The one thing that made life easier was now gone because it was killing her at the same time. Every moment, she watched Spike put forth all his effort into their relationship, struggling with the burden of being her secret.

He loved her.

He loved her, and the feeling had started to become mutual. That's what had scared her the most; she'd started to love a monster.

As Buffy glanced down, she finally noticed the tea dripping down the front of her jacket. Her brows knitted together, lips creasing into a frown. She hadn't even felt the hot liquid spilling from the side of the mug. Numb.

Padding silently across the hall into the bathroom, Buffy locked the door behind her with a satisfying click, and after unzipping her jacket, she let it fall to the floor. Soon after she kicked off her socks, peeled off the rest of her clothes and turned on the water for a bath. Every one of her motions felt so mechanical, as if she'd shut down and been put on autopilot. Her gaze fell to her own reflection in the mirror. She looked tired…she felt tired.

Eyes flickering back towards the tub, Buffy drew back the shower curtain and sank into the warm water. There were two realities she had to deal with, and up until now, she was leaning towards the one she was in. But the more she reasoned the asylum seemed more welcoming. She slid deeper into the bathtub, nose barely disturbing the water's surface.

She let the water run.

As her teeth worried her bottom lip, Buffy closed her eyes with a silent sob. If this wasn't real, she was locked up in an insane asylum and had wasted six years of her life. Six years of a happy, normal life. If this was her real life, it was falling apart faster than she could attempt to fix it. I was ripped out of heaven…I'm sleeping with a vampire who doesn't even have a soul, and I have feelings for this monster…my one ray of hope left his fiancé at the altar…my sister is failing algebra... my application to re-start college was rejected…the current big bad is a trio of wannabe-Mister-Dana-Scully nerds…and I have no idea how I'm going to pay last month's bills, let alone this month. No matter which life she chose, she was lost, and she felt like she'd never get out of this eternal rut. It was almost better to just let go completely…

Buffy's head slowly slid under the water, and she inhaled.

&&&&&&&&&&

The first thing Willow saw as she walked down the hall towards Buffy's room with the antidote in hand was a wisp of brown hair, shoulders shaking violently beneath them as she was practically knocked off her balance and tried not to spill the contents of the mug. "Whoa there, Dawnie...are you okay?" Her question remained unanswered, and she watched Dawn flee down the stairs with a sigh. She glanced at the mug and let out a small whimper. The antidote couldn't wait, but neither could Dawn. With Buffy making with the crazy talk, there was no telling what she'd said to Dawn to make her so upset.

And in a moment, the wicca had never been happier to see Spike. "Spike!" She squeaked with a hopeful grin, immediately shoving the antidote into Spike's chest, forcing him to grab onto it.

"What the hell's this, Red?" His nose wrinkled slightly into a confused frown.

Willow didn't have time for a full blown explanation. Buffy and Dawn were both in need, and she couldn't be two places at once. "Go bring this to Buffy…I have to go deal with the emotional teenage train wreck that is Dawnie."

"Nah-uh," Spike pushed the mug back towards Willow, and she backed away. He bit back a growl, patience wearing thin. "If you haven't noticed Goldilocks and I aren't much on speaking terms at the mo'. Why can't you give it to her, and I'll go deal with the little bit?"

"And have Dawn even more emotionally traumatized?" She arched an eyebrow and immediately continued, "No thank you! Just go give the antidote to Buffy and make sure she drinks it all up, okay?"

"But-"

Hands resting at her hips, a resolve face settled into Willow's expression. There really wasn't time for such a petty argument with everything that was going on. Sure, Spike and Buffy weren't the best of friends, but he could at least hand her a mug! "No buts! Do you want me to magick your ass to Timbuktu? I didn't think so…now go!"

With a sigh, Spike cradled the mug in one hand, having the sudden urge to make a nasty hand gesture. He trudged down the hall, and as he did so, Willow swore she heard him mutter, "Damn slayer and her scoobies. Dunno why I put up with them all when I should just eat them. Soddin' chip!" She shook her head with a small smile, and descended the stairs in search of Dawn. Take care of Buffy, then find Dawn and work through the teenage hormones. That was two big red checks off her giant to-do list.

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In a single gesture, Spike nudged open Buffy's bedroom door with the toe of his boot, careful to avoid any patches of sunlight that were streaming in through the windows. "Slayer, you in here?" His question seemed to float around the silent room for a moment, and he grunted impatiently. Running water…. Buffy must be taking a bath. He sighed and lumbered down the hallway. His fingers enclosed in a fist to rap softly on the door, but his motion wavered as his boots sank into the damp carpet.

Water squished beneath his feet.

"Slayer…looks like you've sprung a leak," he called through the door once he knocked. "Buffy?" What was she doing in there? Had the mood swings really gotten so bad that she couldn't turn off a faucet? Impatience faded to worry as the seconds ticked by, and Spike set the mug down on the side table. "Buffy, open up. Red's cooked you up a cure…..Buffy?" A beat. No answer. By now Spike's soft knocks had grown to an increasingly fierce pounding on the door.

More and more water seeped into the carpet.

In a frantic attempt to get the door open, Spike ripped it off his hinges, knowing fully he'd later regret it. All thoughts of getting his ass kicked immediately fled his mind at the sight of her. His slayer…motionless…lifeless. In a moment he was slipping across the floor and halfway in the bathtub trying to pull Buffy's head above water. If she left them all again, Spike didn't know what he'd do. Buffy gave him reason to keep going.

She was everyone's reason to keep going.

His grip on the edge of the bathtub slipped and he went sliding into the water. If anything, he had to keep Buffy above water. He had to get her breathing. A low growl emitted from his throat and he hooked an arm around the slayer's waist, hauling her gingerly out of the bathtub. So fragile…

The bathtub still overflowed as Spike shrugged off his duster and folded it under her head. He needed to get her breathing. But he had no breath. "Red, get up here!" He choked out worriedly. His voice sounded so distant as his shaky palms pressed on her chest. One..two..three…breathe love, please breathe…

Buffy's damp hair clung to her cheeks as she lay motionless on the tile floor, only jerking slightly as Spike tried to revive her. Salty tears blurred his vision and he continued compressions. He was at a loss of what else to do. "One..two- Willow!-three..four..Buffy..kitten, please don't do this..not like this." Buffy couldn't leave him this way. She was supposed to die fighting, trying... She was a fighter.

Heaven didn't want her back so soon, and a cough was all she needed. She choked up water, and her eyes immediately flew open, wide with confusion and terror. A small frown claimed Buffy's lips as a single tear escaped Spike's eyes and landed on her cheek, making a salty path to her ear. The blonde vampire's eyes twinkled with gratitude, as he saw her come to and immediately stroked her damp hair. "Welcome back, love," was all he could form into words. Buffy tried to reply, but her throat burned as if someone had opened her jaw and poured acid down into her. She swallowed and blinked up at Spike, who had helped her into a sitting position against the bathtub and handed her a towel as he flicked the faucet off and drained the water.

Buffy wrapped the towel around her trembling frame and the two sat in silence for a long while. Her eyes finally rose from the floor to catch a glimpse of Spike. "Don't tell them… please. I couldn't-" voice faltering, she took a deep, shaky breath, "I couldn't explain it to them." Spike's steely gaze locked on hers and he nodded. He didn't need an explanation to what he already knew, and he didn't expect one. He understood, and perhaps that was why she hadn't shied away from him yet. Buffy continued and crinkled her chin as her voice cracked when a sob broke through. Her gaze flickered back to the linoleum. "I got so lost…I don't know where to go from here. Everything I love, everything I know…it could all be fake and I'm just a pathetic little girl in an asylum."

"And what do you believe?" Spike's fingers itched for a cigarette. Either that or he'd reach out to Buffy and attempt to stroke her cheek. He refrained from both, however, and waited for an answer to his question. Lips compressing into a fine line, she tried to keep her lip from trembling and prevent the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

His heart broke for her. This girl who he'd seen fight to the end and die for her sister had finally gotten what she deserved, only to be ripped out of her Elysium. She put on a façade every day for her friends, not wanting to burden them with her sorrows, and slowly, a part of her was dying with her efforts. "I don't know anymore," she sighed, a single tear clinging to her lashes.

All restrain flew out the door as Spike reached out to stroke the distraught slayer's cheek. No. Not a slayer. A girl. As if second nature, he instantly wrapped his arms around her trembling shoulders, ever so slightly rocking back and fourth in a calming motion. Buffy tensed, trying to fight the part of her brain that was telling her to let him embrace her...trying to fight the girl whispering, 'Just let him hold you...' The slayer side of her receded, leaving just the girl who needed to be loved and consoled, and slowly her arms hugged Spike's waist as soon as the first sob escaped into his chest.

If he lowered his head just a fraction, Spike's lips barely brushed against the top of Buffy's head. "Shh…s'alright, kitten," he crooned. "If there's anyone who can work this out it's you. I've known plenty of people in my day and none of them can amount to the strength I see in you. As for which world in your little head is real, I can't say…though if this one's your ideal, I don't see myself being the knight on a white horse. That'd be your precious Forehead's job. But when things get rough around the edges, you can't just wish them away. You deal, and you keep going. And I know you have that strength in you…maybe you just need a little help finding it." Speeches weren't his best attribute, but he tried, and this time he spoke from the heart, a small smile twitching into the corners of his mouth as he noticed Buffy's sobs subside into sniffles and sighs. Buffy closed her eyes and inhaled the comforting smell of chocolate and cigarettes she'd grown to love and kept her hands tightly clasped around Spike's waist, feeling if she let go, she'd be lost once more, struggling under lukewarm bath water.

It was then she realized that she needed Spike more than anyone could have guessed.

"I…I need that antidote," she croaked, voice seemingly hoarse from crying. Finally, Buffy's hands slipped back down to her side. Spike nodded and rose to his feet; she grabbed his forearm to pull herself up.

Willow couldn't have worse timing.

The redhead grasped the doorframe as the carpet squished beneath her shoes. "Geez, what happened-" Just like the cartoons, Willow's eyes grew wide, almost popping out of her skull at the sight of Buffy in a green towel with Spike. She almost slipped as she set foot on the linoleum. "Here..?" Buffy was at a loss of forming sentences with her words. She glanced from Spike to her best friend and immediately started to babble.

"I, uh…well, you see…we.."

"Bad case of plumbing," Spike cut in, his hand slipping off her waist. "Tub sprung a leak or something. 'M not much of a plumber, but I think I fixed it." Buffy managed a small, mortified nod before slipping out of the door past Willow, quietly closing the still thankfully intact door to her own room. Willow's gaze flickered from the blonde slayer to her vampire counterpart.

She had the faintest idea of what was going on between them and couldn't help but smile. "Must've been some leak…"

"I don't know what you're on about," Spike scratched the back of his head in avoidance and trudged out of the bathroom, grabbing the mug. "Is this still any good?"

Willow nodded, "It should be, but it might make her sleepy, so keep an eye on her." She ushered him towards Buffy's bedroom with a hint of a smile. Spike cast Willow a suspicious look, then knocked gently before slipping inside and closing the door behind him.

She could hear his boots pad gently across the room, followed by hushed voices. With a satisfied smile, Willow strode down the hallway. Earlier she'd rushed up the stairs after hearing Spike's calls only to hear Buffy crying and Spike giving her a very speechifying talk. Merely after waiting for a not-so-moving moment to butt in had Willow finally come to check on her friend. She'd heard almost every word each of them spoke, noting love laced in their voices whether the pair had noticed it themselves or not.

What they didn't know she knew wouldn't kill them.

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The mug once full of antidotey goodness sat empty on the edge of Buffy's nightstand while Spike lounged in the wicker chair beside her window. He studied Buffy's every movement carefully. As he promised, he was going to keep an eye on her. "Did it work?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not sure. I don't…feel any different," Buffy shrugged off the question, bringing her palm to her mouth in order to stifle a yawn. She was tired, but not in a numb, empty way. Just…tired.

"The witch said your little drink fix might knock you out for a while." Spike watched her sink back into the pillows as her eyelids grew heavier. He stood up, taking a few strides towards the door. He paused, and aware of the question in her eyes, glanced back at her and began again, "Don't wanna disturb the sleeping beauty. I'll have one of your friends come check on you later."

'Ask him…' the voice inside her head urged her. 'You love the man and the monster because he's accepted both of you. Shouldn't you do the same for him?' Why did her subconscious always have to be right? Just because something was true, doesn't mean she wanted to hear it.

But she needed to hear it.

Buffy wouldn't admit it for a long time down the road, but she needed Spike just as much as she needed the slayer and the girl inside her. They were a part of who she was, and he would help her accept that. He would show her that evil wasn't simply black and white but shades of grey, and they both fell into that grey category.

"Wait," Buffy swallowed the lump in her throat and absentmindedly licked her lips as Spike reached for the doorknob. He raised a quizzical eyebrow and waited for her to continue. "Will you stay with me?" She made room for Spike among the blankets and pillows beside her, and in a single motion Spike climbed on the bed, allowing Buffy to nestle comfortably into his side. She finally felt at ease, and closed her eyes with a soft smile as Spike rested his cheek gently on her head.

Everything was going to be alright.

Spike would teach her to love again, just as she had sparked his humanity. Maybe she'd even be happy again. It was then she realized this was her ideal reality. She had friends who loved her and a sister she'd give the world to. And she had Spike. A vampire who—no—a man who she finally trusted and who could help lift the burden she'd carried for so long. He was her equal, her raison d'être.

Things were never going to be perfect, but they would get better. And with the help of those she loved, she would pull through anything that came her way.