Chapter 38: Evolution
Disclaimer: Don't hurt me :P. I'm just playing with Joss' world. It's not mine :P. If it was, d'you think I'd have let Season 7 Buffy and Season 5 Angel end like that: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. Joyce has also been admitted to hospital for a fainting spell that she's had. Riley has also been going to the vamps for a while to get bitten. Spike has discovered, and has led Buffy to him. As the pain of yet another betrayal overtook her, she allowed Spike to comfort her. The next day, Riley stormed into Spike's crypt and staked him with the plastic wood-grain. Buffy, looking for a listening ear, found him and bandaged him. Spike finally tells Buffy that he's in love with her.
A/N (Goddess! Thank you so much to everyone again! hugs! Four reviews for one chapter again! I won't go on and on about the reviews again unless you want me to :P. (btw… to Kim, nice fic. : ). And to KellyTheSelfToastablePopTart, I'm glad you like what I've done with this. :D. And to Dieu Anonyme… laughs and salutes "Sir yes sir! Writing now!" I'm happy you liked this chapter :P. And thanks to Charity for the praise I probably don't deserve :P. And for realizing I'm evil. : D )
My thanks again for coming back and finding 4 review alerts in my inbox, guys. I really appreciate it. :D. So now, without further ado, onto the chapter! Hope you enjoy :) I know I was evil with that Cliffhanger, but I hope this makes up for it. :P )
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"Would it be self-centred if I thought 'the starred ones' could refer to us?" Cassandra nibbled on the end of her pencil.
Daniel raised his eyebrow. "Do we even look remotely starry?"
"I don't know," Dawn giggled. "When you two look at each other."
"Dawn!" they cringed. "That's…"
"Not possible," Cassandra blushed.
"Plain wrong!" Daniel shuddered at the same time. He looked at her. "No offence, Cass. You're my best friend. It'd be too weird."
"You're actually contemplating it?" her eyes widened as the blush deepened on her cheeks. Dawn looked back and forth at the almost comical looks that flew across both of their faces. What if in the future…?
"What? No! I…"
Dawn smirked.
They both glared at her.
"Somehow, this is all your fault," Daniel accused.
Dawn laughed. "My fault? Just because you two have unresolved…"
"Don't even say it," Daniel warned. "Don't even…"
"Hey, this looks familiar."
The two froze, fingers still pointing at each other. "What?"
The book lay in front of them, one of Giles' old demonology ones with information that dated back to over 7,000 years. They squinted at the scrawling handwriting.
"Uh… Cass? Unless you've read so much your brain's decided you can read anything… this looks like something demony," Daniel tried to joke.
"No it isn't," she insisted. "It's in English, can't you see?"
Silence.
"Come on," she said impatiently. "If I can read it, you can. Xyilan fortak imth estreal, seconden aliynea Kyros inth, Kronus asth finet colriae, doecidue ith rhyithe unt zyrlain…"
Silence.
"Hang on a sec. That doesn't sound like English," she looked confused.
Dawn and Daniel exchanged glances. "Cass? I live with Buffy… but even that made no sense."
She frowned. "But I can understand it."
Daniel massaged his eyes as the words seemed to dance across the page. He could almost swear he could see them moving when he opened them again. He swallowed and looked away.
"Can you translate it to English?"
Cassandra nibbled on the pencil again. "I can try. But I wasn't messing around when I said it looked familiar."
They waited as she grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down strange etchings that neither of them could decipher. Or perhaps that was just her handwriting. Whatever it was, around half a minute later, she started haltingly reciting, certainty and uncertainty both clashing in her voice.
"You have been chosen,
Before the death of Time,
To follow the path,
And teach with song and Rhyme…"
"That one again?" Dawn exclaimed. "But that's the same one we already know. And we thought it was new or something. Why is it written down here?"
Cassandra shook her head. "There's more, and it's slightly different."
"Oh?"
"Power of the ancient,
To call and bend at will,
Companion to the Singers,
That blood will break and spill
The First and Last have cycled,
Undo what's gone before,
If Heart and darkness fails,
Within this endless war
There are battles to be won,
Time bends those that cannot lose,
And the fighting must be done,
For the Heart to finally choose
Argue, lie, tell truths and hate,
Work against the other Fate,
Guide and save, protect and fall,
Reality and dreams both call."
Daniel whacked his head on the table.
"Hey!" Dawn slapped him on the shoulder. "You need all the braincells you can get!"
"Oh god," he mumbled, resting his head on the wood and noting the swirling patterns within it. His eyes blurred again and he shook his head from side to side in an effort to clear the dizziness that had suddenly overcome him.
"Dan?" Dawn laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Are you okay?" Cass asked, worried.
His answer was muffled by the table.
"I'm getting really sick of these prophecies."
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A moment passed as their eyes connected.
She finally broke it.
"I've gotta go to Riley," Buffy told him softly.
For a second, he'd looked so hopeful it was as if a sun had burst from his eyes. Vulnerable and open, But at those words, he shut down, withdrawing into himself. Before her eyes, the stone built up in seconds until William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers once again sat before her.
"Of course," he spat gruffly, studying the wall forty-five degrees from her head intently. "Soldier boy must be worried that you're going to drop his pansy ass at the moment. Run along and correct that for him, won't you?"
Buffy stood up. "Spike…"
After all, he could have started the bloody apocalypse but because he's human, you'll all forgive him and have a soddin' group hug…"
"Spike…"
"And what are you going to do next!" he demanded, ignoring her, gathering momentum as he plunged fully into his rant. "Dance around together like Santa's reindeer and all's frikkin' paradise again?"
"Spike!"
"And of course you'll get the bloody picket house on the bloody Hellmouth I never should 'ave bloody come to with this bloody…"
"SPIKE!"
Her voice reverberated across the crypt walls and stopped him in mid-rant. "What!" he growled, irritated at the interruption.
She faced him coolly down. "I'm going to Riley to tell him just how much he doesn't belong in my life."
He fishmouthed.
"And how low of him it was to attack you."
"Say what?" he couldn't believe his ears.
"I know you can handle yourself, Spike. But what he did was cowardly. This isn't about you, this is about what's happening between us, and he shouldn't have dragged you into it."
"Oh love," his voice softened and saddened, and she wondered how he could change from angry to astounded to understanding and wise in the space of a minute.
Then he snorted and became sarcastic, yet still approachable Spike. "You don't need me to tell you why he did."
She hesitated, and drooped. Then, amidst her crumbling face, a wry smile flitted across the remnants of her mask.
"God, Spike. How can you do that?" she asked simply.
"Do what?"
She threw her hands up in the air and collapsed into an armchair. "I'm Buffy. The Vampire Slayer, right?"
"If you're still not sure about that one, pet, I doubt 'm the one you need to be talkin' to that about," he smirked.
"You know what I mean!" she sighed, frustrated. "It's just that everyone, including my friends, sometimes… they act as if I'm clueless and they need to tell me what to do, what I am when I'm like this. But you don't," she glanced at him. "Why don't you?"
He studied her. "Because you're Buffy. The Vampire Slayer, pet. Buffy the Vampire Slayer."
"That's supposed to be an answer?" she looked at him incredulously.
"Yeah," he leaned back into the bed and winced slightly. "You're not dumb, love, and you know it. You might be in denial a lot of the time, but you do know it. People don't need to give you the bloody answers, not all the time. 'Specially when it's about something like this. Personal stuff, you know? Relationships and all. Even though callin' what Whitebread and you had a relationship makes me wanna…"
"Not now, Spike," she murmured. "Please not now."
He shrugged. "I know. Just sayin' what I've always felt, you know? I may be your bloody mortal enemy, Buffy. But goin' back to the point, I treat you like the chit who could always mess up the best plans I had. The Slayer I couldn't kill when I'd killed all the others. The girl who makes me feel alive for the first time in over a century."
The last sentence was almost a reverent prayer as it left his lips, and she shifted uncomfortably. He noticed her reaction, and looked down, his eyes slightly ashamed and yet proudly defiant at the same time.
"'m sorry I keep blurtin' this out… no wait, 'm not bloody sorry. This is who I am, an' I soddin' know this, at least. My unbeatin' heart on my sleeve an' all that rot. An'…"
He stopped talking when he finally realized she wasn't there any more. A sudden spear of hurt crashed into his chest and he felt real blood trickle out almost as if in response to it. He winced.
"Bloody Slayer. Just like that to bugger off when…"
He saw the heated-up blood bag flying towards him a second before he instinctively caught it. In wonder, he stared at her as she popped her head down the trapdoor to stare at him seriously.
"I'll be back to see how you're doing, Spike. But I think I need to go sort all of this mess out, now."
"Sure," he said, his voice slightly dazed from his shock. A vamp couldn't take so many surprises in such a short time. He almost felt his dead neurons blow.
He heard footsteps, then, as she walked out of his crypt.
"Slayer, wait!"
They paused. "What?"
He paused. "Uh… good luck."
And he swore his vampire hearing picked up a soft 'thanks' as the crypt door closed.
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As I closed the crypt door behind me, I started visibly shaking. Leaning against the cold granite for support, I wrapped my arms around myself and closed my eyes. Suddenly, I felt completely nerveless, and I slid down to the ground, still shaking with cold and fear and shock and pain. And surprisingly enough, with a small tinge of wonder as well. I'd known that Spike… I couldn't think it. Not yet.
No. I could. I hadn't come this far mentally just to take a few steps back.
I'd known that Spike had loved me since last night. When I'd looked into his eyes as he held me. I'm not sure if he noticed at first. He was looking down at mine, and it was written all over his face. A softness and a strength indescribable on those smooth, sharp planes. At that time, I just basked in the warmth of it, let it enfold me and be my buoy over the sea of pain that Riley had almost drowned me in.
Yes. I can wax lyrical. Give me a break. I've been able to say things over two syllables ever since I was introduced to the wonders/horrors of studying Shakespeare. Just because I'm a Slayer and I might get hit in the head doesn't mean I'm dumb. And I generally don't let them get anywhere near the head area with the punch-y action.
I guess I act like that because it's easy sometimes. It's easier to act clueless when I'm not. Pop psychology would probably say I'm doing the compensate-y thingy because as a Slayer, I need to be strong and make the decisions and be in power so I kinda enjoy it when I can be Buffy and…
Wait. But I'm not like that.
Stuff Pop psychology. They've never dealt with a Slayer before anyway.
Getting back to the point, however. I just hurt so much at the time. Another betrayal. I was beginning to think it was the Curse of Buffy or something. Or rather, just Buffy's curse in general. He… the love shining in his eyes, melting from his skin as he held me… I let it take some of it away. Let it bandage my wound somewhat, I guess.
And around an hour later, when it finally sunk in, it struck me with a horrible sense of finality. I had time to mumble a thanks before stumbling to my bedroom and letting loose another flood of tears. Funny. I remembered thinking Buffy'd been all cried out. I guess there were always more tears in the world of Buffy. More pain and blood.
I guess three months ago, before any of this had started, I would have gone into denial. Would have screamed and raged against him. Maybe even staked him. Then again, I doubt he'd loved me three months ago, or knew he'd loved me. Yeah, there was always that 'chemical attraction' thing. But not love. But now? Now there was definitely love. And I didn't want to slip into denial. Not if that meant I couldn't rely on him. I knew firsthand (well… duh) what happens when Buffy goes into denial.
I end up hurting most of the people around me. And myself as well.
It just wasn't worth it. Not if it meant I couldn't depend on him. Not if it meant that all the aid… and in a sense, the friendship, partnership we had meant nothing.
Oh God.
From mortal enemies to… slaying buddies in three months.
How the world changed.
Did I regret it?
I remember thinking so hard about it in bed, after the tears had dried on my face and I'd blown my nose and dived back under the covers to a safe world where Buffy could sleep. Mind you, I didn't always feel safe in my sleep. Remembering Angelus and Dracula didn't help. Last night, though… it was like the world stopped as I'd patiently opened my mind and sorted everything out in that unflappable calm that had just come over me.
For once, I was an unflappable Buffy.
Shouldn't the world be celebrating?
I guess I was just too exhausted to be emotional at that time.
Not only that, I knew that logically, Spike had done me a favour. A big favour. He'd been doing me favours ever since the spell, and I hadn't really given him anything in return. I don't think I was indebted to him as such. Spike was giving it freely of his own accord. Hell, as Tara had said the other day, he'd stopped asking for money. I couldn't look that in the face and try to say he was twisting it for his own means. Because he obviously wasn't. He was acting, he was being like a potentially vital ally that I could come to rely on in time.
And I did.
Rely on him, I mean.
It was funny how I hadn't even noticed how quickly I ran to him whenever things went wrong.
Perhaps it was also the depend-y thingy. Riley'd left me, I knew. Not then, but months ago. He'd left me when he realized, admitted to himself I didn't love him. Which was about two months into the relationship.
Another tear had rolled down cried-out Buffy's cheek. I'd lost him just barely after I'd gotten him. But it wasn't so much that that had hurt me. It was the betrayal, again.
It's incredible how much I can realize, admit to myself, when I choose not to be in denial anymore.
Yes, that's right.
Choose.
I guess, last night, I chose not to fall into denial again. It'd driven Angel away even further, it'd prolonged out pain-wracked, broken relationship, it'd driven my friends and family away at times that, inside, I'd really, really needed them. It'd driven away Kendra and Faith.
In the end, it had almost driven away me.
Last night, I chose not to deny Spike. I'd chosen not to hurt him and myself even further. Because I couldn't. I couldn't drive away the vampire, the demon who'd tried to kill me so many times, and then had turned around and saved me and my family and friends. I couldn't drive away the person who delighted in violence, who took pleasure in causing pain but opened his heart when he saw someone was hurting. I couldn't deny the man who drank hot chocolate with my mum, hung out with my sister and her friends, and who was in love with me.
And actually choosing how I'd react gave me a sense of power I'd never had before. I was Strong!Buffy. I hadn't let my prejudices and denial choose my path for me instead of my heart.
Yay.
Big step for Buffy Summers.
I remember, three years, ago, picking up one of Mum's books from her bookcases and flipping through it. I guess I hadn't understood what it said properly until now. Or the gist of it, at any rate.
But now, I think I do.
Choice is what truly gives us strength. To decide our own future, instead of letting prejudices and first impressions rule it for us. And hey, me with being the Slayer, I need as much deciding-of-the-future as possible. Because there's too much sway other people, other demons, other things have over it.
I've never forgotten I could die tomorrow.
So I can't waste my time and lose a… friendship. Partnership.
Is that what Spike is? A friend? A partner?
Whatever it was, I could no longer stay safe in denial and treat him like a soulless, evil demon.
Because he's a monster. And a man.
I stopped thinking, then.
Because my head hurt, and my body hurt, pressed up against the granite and grass. I could ponder everything again later. Sort it out again and truly understand everything after I'd taken control of something else in my life that needed to go.
So I stood up and went to find Riley.
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