Chapter 35: Beginning of the End
Disclaimer: No ownership. I'm just perpetually on my knees before the altar of Jossverse. :P.
Rating: I think I'm boring everyone to death repeating the same thing each time. See the first fourteen chapters if you haven't, yet :)
Summary: This is the summary of the last couple of chapters and anything important I thought needed to be added. :D.
AU from the ending of Season 4. Riley and Buffy have 'made up', while Spike has finally realized his true feelings for Buffy. Daniel, Cassandra, and Dawn, have also uncovered and old poem that may or may not be a prophecy. And, as all prophecies are wont to be, it's cryptic and doesn't make sense :P. Riley has also been going to the vamps for a while to get bitten.
A/N (No reviews. :(. Oh well, I guess a lot of you are on holiday at the moment, hey? Make it up to me? Pleaseprettyplease:D. It's really nice to get a review after slugging hard against writer's block. . . /whine :P
Okay, now onto our cough regularly cough scheduled chapter! I hope you enjoy. : )
8 8 8
"Mummy?"
"Dawnie…" she gave me a weary smile as I stepped into the room. "What are you doing here?"
I glanced around nervously. "Well… uh… I just didn't feel…"
I paused. Stopped. Couldn't decide whether to blush or retreat into myself. Finally, the words came.
"It's Buffy and Riley. I… just don't feel like they want me there at the moment, you know?"
"Do you mean that you walked here all by yourself in the dark?" she asked disbelievingly.
"I got a lift from Xander and Anya," I admitted, repressing the memories that would no doubt scar me for the rest of my teenage life about their chosen conversation topic. "They didn't want to come in and tire you, though."
"That's very sweet," Mum laughed. "But I would have been fine."
I slowly padded closer. They were right not to have come, I thought. I doubt Mum was really in the mood to cope with too many people at the moment. She looked so tired… the hospital bed sagged around her, frighteningly white, yet still somehow causing the conflict of colours to somehow wash out all of the remaining life from Mum's face. I looked desperately for it. Traced the skin with my fingers. Cursed silently inside as I felt a tear slide down my own cheek.
"Oh, Dawnie… don't cry."
I felt her fingers as they gently wiped away that single tear, and the mere touch sent a flood of memories into my mind at all of the times she'd done that. How that simple touch could make everything well again, even if the boy I'd had a crush on found someone else, or the scratches on my knee were stinging like anything. This time, though, it just made things worse. I had to fight to keep myself from what I wanted to do most; collapsing and crying out my worries in her arms.
"It's going to be okay, you'll see," Mum comforted. "Look, the doctors said that it could have been anything. Overwork… too much stress…"
Overwork… stress… my mind whirled. I know it sounded selfish… and I know I'd seen her stressed so many times. That slightly pinched look of worry that came to her face when time was short or the shopping trolley refused to roll straight and there was a big dinner up ahead was as familiar to me as Buffy getting on my nerves. But it always faded. I remember thinking Mum was some kind of super woman… it would affect her, but she'd fight it off and live another day happy and smiling. I couldn't ever believe how she could cope with Buffy and me and the Gallery and the housework when I had trouble coping with the cruelty from some of the people at school.
I guess she could feel the despair radiating off me. Mum always could. She laughed softly. "God knows I get enough stress and work from looking after you two," she teased. "Maybe that's why."
Well… um… that just made things worse.
"I'm just joking," she chuckled, tightening her grip around me. She must have felt the sudden tension in my arms. What if that were it? Mum was finally cracking under the pressure of having a Slayer for her eldest daughter and a teenager for her youngest.
That meant that her collapsing could be my fault
My fault.
My fault.
I buried my head further into the hospital gown. The smells of Hospitals in general wafted through my nostrils and I wanted to vomit. Where was the smell of Mum in here? The smell and the touch that made everything better…
They were missing.
I tried to search past the disinfectant, past the thin cotton, smells so sharp and clean they burnt my senses. Searched until...
There. A whiff of the Mum I knew.
Mum cooking.
Mum cleaning.
Mum smiling.
Mum laughing.
Mum hugging us.
Mum going off to work.
Home.
I couldn't help but let the tears leak a little more.
8 8 8
How could he leave her? Spike wondered as he followed (inconspicuously) behind. How could he leave her, seconds, minutes, hours after feeling her in his arms, touching that skin, revelling in her heat. After running his fingers through her golden tresses, touching that soft, soft body, yet feeling the Slayer muscles tense beneath. How could he…?
Wait.
Why was he so bothered about that fact?
So bothered about the fact that the man in front of him could do that. Could reach out and touch her.
And had.
Right in front of him.
When he didn't deserve her.
Not that he deserved her himself… but…
He growled as he thought of the look on her face when she'd found out his infidelity. His betrayal.
Bloody blighter didn't know it wasn't her. How could he bloody well not know?
You didn't know until she kissed you, a voice whispered in his ear. And you had all of your supernatural vampire powers as well. He's just a human.
Shut up, he snarked back.
Still muttering under his breath and lost inside his reverie of his relatively new realization, he almost failed to take into account the importance of the environment the person he was following had walked straight into, as if he'd been there before.
Been there before quite a few times.
He almost failed to take it into account.
What the hell is he doing here? Downtown Sunnydale? Going into…
He paused to sniff the air. He remembered this place from his traversing and exploring. Getting to know the place that would become his home. A place where he'd settled down for longer than he had for a long time. A place that would forever hold memories he wouldn't be able to forget. Like when he had investigated this place, following another person here. Okay, fine. Not a person. Another vampire, looking to become an employee. A vampire who'd formerly been his minion before everything was shot to hell. A vampire who'd escaped the hell that Angelus had brought, somehow resisted all vampiric bonds and broken many vampiric laws to abandon his 'crippled' master and had found employment. Something that Spike had followed up two years later, almost noting with wonder and disgust that he had managed to stay alive… or undead.
And upon meeting him again, had promptly rectified that fact.
Going into what could constitute as a vampire-human whorehouse. After he's spent half the night with her lying in his arms… touching her…
Somehow, his thoughts always returned to her. Cursing and muttering, he attempted to push them away violently, but found he couldn't.
How could he? Something inside him seethed. This is the first night she's let herself rest for a second. This is the first night she's gone home instead of staying over at the hospital. This is the first night she's allowed him to touch her like that, and he leaves her.
He unobtrusively entered the pool of electric light that the door that lay somewhat ajar allowed. He drank in the smells and sounds that awaited him. Suckling and slurping, moans and grunts, cries that petered away as they were muffled, some forcefully. And above all, the rhythmic sound of blood and heartbeats being drawn into a being darker than the humans might have realized. And the smell of blood and other bodily fluids.
It was intoxicating, but he shook it off and followed Finn's scent like a hound, tracing him up the stairs.
When he saw all there was to be seen, he walked down, and out into the night.
8 8 8
I don't know why I woke up. The past few days had been so hectic… looking after mum… making sure everything was alright… waiting anxiously for the CAT scan results…
Then Riley, and him looking after me. Most importantly, I guess, was allowing him to look after me. That had felt nice, except that I could tell there was still some tension in the air remaining after the last few days. His annoyance over Spike coming to see Mum several times and even waiting overnight once seemed to dissipate slightly, though, when he offered to patrol so I could have a night off. I was still surprised about that. Surprised about the flowers and the get-well card, happily decorated with a picture of a smiling cartoon vamp. Surprised about him running to Giles' apartment that day she'd asked him for help, and staying with the three kids that she used to be afraid he'd eat. Protecting them, even. Surprised about him bringing chocolates. Surprised about Dawn falling asleep in his lap. Surprised about the way he let her…
Surprised, shocked, and a little irritated to find him standing in my doorway.
"Spike? What the hell are you doing here?"
I woke up a bit more.
"What the hell are you doing here! And…"
I suddenly realized the emptiness of my bed. And the coldness, as well.
"Where's… where's Riley?"
His glacier eyes shot into me, and I pulled the sheet closer to myself. There was something in those eyes that I couldn't even begin to understand.
"Get dressed, Slayer," he said softly. "I want to show you something."
I opened my mouth to argue, and then shut it. There was a cold glint to his demeanour… and the seriousness that dripped from his tone immediately erased all thoughts of me snarking.
I waited.
"Hurry up, Slayer. There's no time for you to stare at me with those gorgeo… gorgon eyes of yours. We need to move if we're gonna get there in time."
I kept waiting. He got the point a second later.
"Oh please," he snorted. "Like I bloody give a damn."
I reached for my clothes, eying him carefully… did he almost crane his neck around there?
And why did that thought make me want to blush instead of making me want to go Cave-slayer and kill him?
And…
Okay, I wasn't even going to go down that train of thought.
I dressed quickly, and hopped out of bed. He didn't turn around once, didn't even look back to check when I was ready. He simply held open the door for me, and fell into step behind me as we descended the stairs and walked into the night. The cold air misted around me as we traversed the streets of Sunnydale, going into the seedier parts of town that I never usually patrolled around. My Slayer instincts went on alert.
"Spike… where the hell are you taking me?"
He paused. Stopped. I walked on a few more steps before I realized, and then turned to face him. His face was half shadowed by the nearby building, but the moon lit up his angular face, dancing over his cheekbones like…
I cleared my throat and shook uncomfortably. "Spike?"
He looked down, and then leaned against the wall. For a few seconds, I thought he was going to turn away, before he began talking.
"I thought… I thought I should show you. But…"
"Show me what, dammit?" I was getting impatient. No-one seemed to be able to give me a straight answer these days. Plus, everything had to be so confusing. And everything confusing always led back to him, and why he was acting like this without a soul. Why couldn't An…
I terminated that thought. Killed it. Slayed it.
He raised his eyes then, to search my soul. Those bright, blue, sharp eyes that could cut away everything and leave just you, standing there, illuminated in moonlight and shadows.
"I was going to show you," he murmured. "I was going to show you what Soldier Boy's been doing. But… it'll hurt you."
Fire flared in my eyes. It was instinctive. I couldn't help it. Suddenly, he was no longer leaning against the wall. He was pushed against it. I barely realized I was the one doing that, until my voice grated out, cold and angry.
Is that really what I sound like? I thought.
"What about Riley!"
"Dammit, Slayer!" the look in his eyes turned icy. "Every bloody time I try to help you, you reward me with this!" he shoved my hands off him and stepped away from my hold. I took a few steps back as he slowly began advancing on me, his eyes burning like the sea.
"How long have I helped you for, now? How many times have you seen inside my mind? How many times have you all seen my soddin', pathetic existence for what it bloody well was! How many times have you dug away at all of the bloody mindblocks I put up to stop it all from soddin' coming through again, and have you lot rip them down! I'm sick of it, Slayer! Through all of that… you don't even give me one… bit… of trust!" he snapped his fingers each time, accentuating the words, punching them sharply into the air inches away from my face.
I looked again, and saw something swirling in those depths.
Hurt?
No… one part of my mind whispered. He's a soulless, evil, vampire. He can't hurt. He's nothing.
You idiot… the other part yelled. Has he really been acting like that? Acting like a soulless, evil, vampire? Acting like he's nothing?
That's all it is. Acting. He's trying to…
He's stopped asking for money. And you can see it. You look into those gorgeous eyes of him. Spike wears his heart on his sleeve. Any ulterior motives… just like that night when you made the truce. Honesty. That was all you could see in those eyes. Honesty and pain. What do you see in them now?
No… no. He's a soulless…
You see honesty…
His voice snapped her out of her inner tirade. He'd unconsciously let some of the hurt seep into his tones, and it made her heart ache.
"I mean, I'm not a dog, you know. You can't just kick me down so many times and expect me to leap back up and wag my bloody tail and dance to your tune! I'm a…"
He stopped.
"What are you, Spike?" I asked, softly, before cursing that question as it left my lips. I didn't want to hear the answer.
I was too afraid.
He faltered, for a second, before raising his eyes again to meet mine, flaming.
"I'm a man," he ground out. "An' a demon."
Out of my surprise, I heard myself answering.
"How can you be both?"
He spun around, his duster swirling, to face into the darkness of the street where I couldn't see him. When he spoke, bitterness dripped from his voice.
"Trust me, Slayer. When I figure it out, you'll be the third to know."