by velja
Pairing: Buffy/Spike
Setting: This takes place somewhere in Season Six before Buffy and Spike are having their affair.
Disclaimer: They're still not mine as much as I wish they were… neither are the lyrics used in here. They belong to 'Good Charlotte'.
Summary: Buffy feels lost and broken after her resurrection. Is there someone who can help her heal the wounds?
Author's note: Another song fic from me; surprise, surprise. I guess I can't come up with anything without using a song to underline the feelings I want to express. I hope you don't mind. This story was inspired by the song "Wounded" from Good Charlotte; a very powerful song that fits Buffy's situation perfectly. So I came up with this. I hope you like it.
Dedication: Besides the usual thanks to my sister Chris I'd like to thank Christine D. for her wonderful support.
"Buffy, are you going to patrol tonight?"
Giles' voice broke through the thick fog of Buffy's thoughts and forced the Slayer to concentrate on her surroundings again. It was after ten in the evening and she was sitting at the research table in the Magic Box along with her friends.
"Sure," Buffy answered with a small sigh and started to rise from her chair. She didn't look forward to patrol at all. But then again, what was it that she did look forward to these days? She couldn't think of anything. Ever since her friends had brought her back, had pulled her out of...
...God, she couldn't even think about where she'd been without feeling the need to gulp and flinch. And scream and cry...
She'd tried so hard not to think about that place, about how safe and content she'd felt.
Simply happy...
She wouldn't allow her mind to go there again. Well, at least not when she was with her friends. When she was at home, alone in her bed... that was when she'd allow herself to let go. That was when she'd cry.
Not among her friends. They still didn't know what they'd done, where they'd pulled her out of. And they would never. She'd make sure of that.
Buffy hadn't talked to anyone about where she'd been. Anyone but Spike that is. But for some reason she trusted him to keep her secret safe. She trusted him...
Buffy shook her head to stop thinking about the not-so-evil vampire and let her eyes wander around the shop to look at her friends.
Xander and Anya were sitting at the table apparently engaged in a discussion about some weird demon-wedding-ritual and didn't look up. Giles was pacing the shelves behind the counter completing an order form in his hands and Willow and Tara were sitting next to each other on the stairs to the balcony lost in themselves.
Her friends.
Buffy closed her eyes when she felt a wave of despair wash over her. God, she felt so... unconnected.
Had it always been this way? Being among her friends and still feeling so alone?
So... lost?
The Slayer forced a fake smile on her face and called out to the others:
"Okay guys, I'm off on patrol. See you in the morning."
"Bye, Buffy!" Willow replied without lifting her head and Giles simply gave her a distracted nod before he scanned the shelves again. Xander and Anya didn't notice her departure at all.
After she'd closed the door from the outside the smile faded immediately from Buffy's face and she started walking off into the night feeling more alone than ever.
Lost and broken
Hopeless and lonely
Smiling on the outside
But hurt beneath my skin
My eyes are fading
My soul is bleeding
I try to make it seem okay
But my faith is wearing thin
Buffy had been walking through the deserted streets of Sunnydale lost in her own depressing thoughts without encountering anything demony at all. Not even one single vampire she'd met.
Not that she cared this way or the other, mind you.
If she would run into a vampire or any other demon she wouldn't hesitate to kill it, sure...
But her heart wasn't into slaying anymore. She was simply going through the motions; nothing else.
It didn't matter, did it?
No, nothing mattered at all.
Nothing but the pain and despair she was feeling inside. Every minute it was there.
Her friends had tried hard to help her get along, they really had. And Dawn, too. Buffy knew that. She'd heard them talk about how to try and make everything easier for her and she'd seen it, too.
But Buffy had found it hard to trust them again. After what they'd done to her...
It was much easier to close both eyes to her friends' efforts than to look at them and only see betrayal. They didn't know they'd betrayed her and they certainly didn't mean to... ever... they only wanted to free her from a hell-dimension. They only wanted to help.
But they didn't help then and they couldn't now. No one ever could.
Buffy knew there wasn't a simple cure for her pain. She couldn't go to a doctor or a psychiatrist and say something like: 'Hey, I've been recently brought back from death, I've been pulled out of heaven and I don't know how to enjoy life anymore. Can I have a prescription for an all-healing-pill, please?'
It didn't work that way, did it?
No pills, no doctor.
No one could help her.
So help me heal these wounds
They've been open for way too long
Help me fill this soul
Even though this is not your fault
That I'm open
And I'm bleeding
All over your brand new rug
And I need someone to help me sew them up
Thinking insane and silly thoughts about pills and doctors Buffy hadn't noticed the direction her feet had dragged her on patrol. So she was surprised to find herself suddenly walking among old graves and dusty crypts.
"The cemetery, sure," Buffy sighed and looked around for any signs of a fledgling crawling out of its fresh grave. But there wasn't any.
Just quiet peacefulness. A sanctuary.
Buffy snorted inwardly. 'Yeah, right. Sanctuary in a cemetery of all places.' She frowned and then suddenly shouted in a sarcastic voice: "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the lovely place called 'The Slayer's mind'. Extraordinary insane thoughts are presented today. Feel free to take notes, you won't find those in other people's heads."
Buffy shook her head and broke into a quick run to free her mind. God, had she always been like this? She tried to remember a time when her mind had simply revolved around what clothes to wear to impress the boys at school. Ordinary thoughts, normal girl's thoughts.
Buffy could hardly remember.
I only wanted a magazine
I only wanted a movie screen
I only wanted the life I'd read about and dreamed
And now my mind is an open book
And now my heart is an open wound
And now my life is an open soul for all to see
Buffy didn't stop running through the graves. She couldn't stop. Running freed her mind and made her feel light and… less insane. She jumped over a large headstone and rounded a modern crypt out of white marble…
… and suddenly slammed full force into a solid body. Someone had surrounded the crypt coming from the other side and was now lying sprawled next to Buffy who had fallen back onto her ass from the impact as well.
"Ouch!" Buffy yelped surprised and tried to get up and into a fighting stance.
"Bloody hell!" the other one exclaimed forcefully and jumped up as well.
"Spike," Buffy sighed exasperated, "what are you doing lurking behind a crypt?" She threw a glare at the vampire who had started to pick up a brown paper bag from the ground. Several cartons of cigarettes lay scattered around and Spike started to gather them as well before he rose and glared back at Buffy.
"Wasn't lurking, pet," he said, "just walking home from a little shopping trip."
"Oh, right." Buffy eyed the full bag suspiciously and added: "Did you pay for that?"
"What, you wanna see the bill?" Spike growled and started walking off through the graves towards his crypt. Buffy followed after a second and fell in pace beside him.
"Sorry," she mumbled, "guess it's none of my business."
"What?" Spike stopped in his tracks and watched her incredulously.
"None of my business," Buffy repeated and walked on.
"Since when?" Spike asked and when she didn't answer he went on:
"So you don't care if I nicked it or robbed innocent folks to get by?"
Buffy simply shrugged and said: "Well, you can't hurt anybody, so I guess, no, I don't care."
They had arrived in front of Spike's crypt and Buffy intended to simply walk on when a strong hand on her upper arm stopped her. She was turned around gently and Spike's eyes bore into her when he asked:
"What's wrong, Slayer?"
"Nothing." She didn't meet his eyes but glared to the ground instead.
"Buffy," Spike urged and lifted his hand to her chin. He gently forced it in his direction and searched her eyes with his.
"I'm fine," she tried.
"You're not and you know it."
"Am, too," Buffy's voice was nothing but a whisper.
"Are not," Spike whispered back.
Instantly Buffy broke free of Spike's hand on her face with a step backwards and threw a desperate glance at the vampire.
"But I want to, Spike!" she shot back at him, "I so want to be fine again! I want to stop hurting!"
Suddenly tears threatened to spill from her hazel eyes and Buffy blinked them away rapidly. Spike gulped. His dead heart ached to see her in so much pain. Pain he didn't know how to lessen.
"I know, luv," he stated softly and looked to the ground. He couldn't bear to look at her.
"And I wish I could make it better."
"Me too," Buffy sighed, "though I don't think you can."
They both looked up at the same time and their eyes locked. Then ahesitant smile crept over Buffy's face and she whispered:
"But thanks for trying, Spike."
So help me heal these wounds
They've been open for way too long
Help me fill this soul
Even though this is not your fault
That I'm open
And I'm bleeding
All over your brand new rug
Cause I need someone to help me
A comfortable silence had settled around the Slayer and the vampire standing in front of the crypt but eventually Spike looked around and suggested:
"How about some violence then, pet? Let's go and find something to kill, okay?"
Buffy scanned the quiet cemetery and shook her head.
"I don't think so. It's been a pretty slow night so far. I've been patrolling for some time and I didn't see a single vamp." She glanced up at Spike and added quickly: "Well, beside you."
"Oh."
"Yeah," Buffy sighed, "I guess I'll just go home. See you."
She started walking away but Spike's hesitant voice stopped her:
"You don't have to go."
"Huh?" Buffy asked and turned back towards the blond vampire who was suddenly looking nervous.
"I mean," he quickly suggested, "come inside, watch some telly… have a drink… or…"
A small smile crept over Spike's face when he went on: "I got some new stuff downstairs, you know? Furniture… a couch, some rugs… even a lamp..."
Buffy frowned and asked briskly: "What? You think I would come inside, watch TV and sit and chat with you like we're some kind of friends?"
A flicker of hurt crossed Spike's face before he could control it but then the mask of coolness was firmly back in place.
"Suit yourself, Slayer. G'night."
With that he quickly turned around and stormed into his crypt; the door nearly falling from the hinges with the force used to shut it.
So you come along
I push you away
Then kick and scream for you to stay
Buffy had watched Spike's retreat with mixed feelings. She knew that her brisk reply had hurt him but… what did he expect?
They weren't friends who hung out together, were they? They were… allies at best.
Her eyes fell to the ground and she lifted one food to dejectedly kick some grovel aside.
'And yet,' Buffy thought, 'somehow he's the only one I can stand right now. The only one I can bear to talk to.'
With a sigh the petite Slayer turned once again towards the crypt and walked up to the heavy door. She lifted her fist to knock but then hesitated in midair.
She couldn't knock now, could she? She'd never knocked on this door before, just barged right in. But somehow barging in didn't seem right this time.
Buffy sighed again and leaned forward to rest her head against the door frame. She noticed her hand was trembling. Slowly she opened the fist and let her palm softly caress the cold wood.
Cause I need someone to help me
Oh, I need someone to help me
Suddenly the door creaked and opened slightly to reveal a small dark gap. Buffy could make out pale slender fingers that held the door ajar and then Spike's face appeared in the tiny space.
"Wanna come in?" he asked in nothing but a whisper.
Buffy looked into his face and nodded mutely.
The vampire's blue eyes shone with concern and trepidation but a faint smile played around his lips when Spike pushed the door open further to let the Slayer step over the threshold.
Buffy walked inside a few steps and turned around.
"So," she smiled, "what's on TV?"
Help me heal these wounds
They've been open for way too long
Help me fill this soul
Even though this is not your fault
That I'm open
And I'm bleeding
All over your brand new rug
And I need someone to help me sew them
I need someone to help me fill them
I need someone to help me close them up
The End
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