Title:
Inside, Part 2 - Chapter 11 of How Many Days
Disclaimer: Joss doesn't play with his toys anymore. Someone has to,
dammit!
Rating: R
Pairing: Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Other, Willow/Giles, Willow/Other
Summary: Post-Season 7. This is a sequel to 'Don't Stop the Dance'
Distribution: Anywhere you like, just let me know.
Feedback: is welcome. [xionin@beautiful-freak.com]
Thank you: Maribel and Pam: the most amazing betas in any universe.
Lyrics: "Inside" by Sting
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside the failures of the light,
The night is wrapped around me.
Inside my eyes deny their sight,
You'd never find me in this place.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy's eyes flutter
open and she finds herself staring at her ceiling.
Exhausted doesn't even begin to cover what she's feeling right now.
Gutted.
That's a much more fitting word.
Any semblance of normalcy she'd scraped together over the course of the year has vanished in one puff of acrid smoke. The candles are all snuffed out.
How could she have Been. So. Stupid?
Spike is gone, he's...gone.
There are no special reprieves; no prophecies concerning the sacred love of a slayer and a vamp. He isn't going to be returned to her and they aren't going to ride off into the sunset while orchestrated strings float on the air.
For a while, Buffy thought she had been handling everything pretty well: Training new slayers; Helping Dawn grow up into a beautiful young woman; Working with Giles to rebuild the Council. She had almost fooled herself.
But then he came. NO! No. It.
God she's missed
him. She's yearned for him; his touch, his taste, his everything.
And look at what it almost cost her?
She is drowning in her grief.
"Oh god."
Buffy swipes at the strangled tears that slide down her cheeks. She's surprised she has anything left to produce them. The thought of what she's been doing since that first night that it appeared brings a wave of nausea to her stomach. She swallows it down.
"I can't do this anymore."
Buffy closes her eyes and sinks into the soft down of her pillows and duvet. She calls upon the power that Willow had given her early last year; the ability to take small, mental vacations.
Only this time, she isn't looking to take a break. This time, she wants to say goodbye.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside we're hidden from the moonlight.
We shift between the shadows,
Inside the compass of the night,
Inside the memory of your face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It isn't hard. She pictures herself first and then the place she wants to be.
It's instinct, really. She'd always wanted to see him in the brilliant sunlight,
strolling along the beach barefoot.
So she goes there to wait for him.
Buffy walks down the dune to the edge of the wet sand, her baby blue tank top trapping the breeze against her sensitive skin. Her white linen pants billow out with each strong gust.
The sky is a brilliant shade of cornflower blue; just like his eyes. The bright sun warms her. She misses the California sunshine. Buffy sits down and closes her eyes; allowing the warmth to seep into her flesh. A small smile plays upon her lips.
She feels him approaching.
Strong legs bend to the sand behind her, embracing her as sturdy hands take purchase on her bare shoulders.
"Hello, luv." He kisses her hair, he always loved her hair, and wraps his arms around her; resting his chin on the top of her head.
"Spike." Buffy finds it easy to say his name in this place; so unlike the real world, where she has to turn away from the pity in their eyes. She covers his arms with her own.
"I'm here, pet." She can feel his intake of breath as he nuzzles into her neck. "Never leavin' you."
"I know. I know you'll always be with me." She turns in his arms to face him. Her eyes take him in hungrily. He looks so incredibly beautiful in the summer light; his snowy hair dancing alongside strands of sun-kissed gold. He's wearing a bright blue t-shirt and faded jeans that cling to the hard planes of his body. And he's barefoot, of course.
Buffy traces the outline of his lips with her fingertip. Her eyes well up with tears and he reaches out a steady hand to catch them as they fall.
"S'alright, Buffy. I understand." He whispers.
"I'm so sorry, Spike. I'm...I'm so..." Her head drops as she sobs into his chest and he gently caresses her back, whispering soothing words into her ear.
"S'ok, Buffy."
"I love you, Spike. I love you so much."
"I know."
"I'll al...always..."
"I know, pet, shhhhh." Spike rocks her in his arms, kissing her over and over again. As she calms down a bit, she looks up at him and he gives her a dazzling smile.
"You're so beautiful, Spike. My William."
"So are you, baby. I'll never stop loving you."
Buffy gazes deeply into his eyes.
"I have to say goodbye." She says quietly.
"I know."
"I don't want to, Spike."
"I know that too, but it really isn't goodbye."
"I know." She runs her hand through his hair and he closes his eyes.
"I'm going to Sunnydale."
Spike looks at her for a long moment before smiling sadly.
"If that's what you need to do, luv."
"I need...I need closure. I think..."
"Maybe you'll find it there?"
"Maybe. I just know that I can't go on living like this. It's not...it isn't a life."
"I know, baby, I know. What is it I said once? You have to go on living..."
"So that...so..." She breaks down again and he cradles her in his arms.
"So one of us is living." He gathers her to himself and begins swaying back and forth, calming her. "That's right, luv. Let it out, pet. Let it out, my girl. My Buffy...mine."
"Yours." She raises her head to meet his eyes.
"Forever." She nods and smiles, tears falling in golden droplets down her cheeks.
"Forever." She softly kisses him.
Buffy surfaces from her waking dream. Her hair is soaked with the essence of her grief.
"Forever, Spike." She sits up on her bed and looks out the open window. "I'm coming home to say goodbye."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I climb this tower inside my head
A spiral stair above my bed.
I dream the stairs don't ask me why,
I throw myself into the sky.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy feels awful about leaving nothing but a note behind to explain her absence, but she just isn't able to handle their questions right now. She also regrets having to lie to them; telling them that she'd gone down to Leeds for some R&R.
Surely they'd understand that she needs to get away, after...
Maybe she'll tell them, when she returns, where she's really been. They probably wouldn't appreciate her need to go back; to see where her life ended and where it has to begin again. Sunnydale is now just an immense and yawning hole in the ground, but it isn't large enough to hold her love or her sorrow.
After boarding the plane at Heathrow, she settles into the window seat under two complimentary blankets and is dozing fretfully even before the aircraft leaves the gate.
She doesn't notice the quiet, white-haired girl that passes by on her way to a seat in the back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Love me like a baby, love me like an only child
Love me like an ocean; love me like a mother mild
Love me like a father, love me like a prodigal son
Love me like a sister, love me like the world has just begun
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She'd slept during the entire flight and didn't wake up until they arrived in Los Angeles. Buffy had gathered herself quickly and exited the plane heading straight for her pre-arranged rental car. From LAX it would be a lonely drive up to the Sunnydale Crater.
Buffy can't believe how much of a tourist trap the surrounding area has become. Fortunately, she's alone on this last stretch of highway. She rolls down the windows of her SUV and lets the wind have its way with her hair.
The neon tape of the road signs tell her she's close, but she can already feel how close she is. She feels the pull of the Hellmouth, even in its dormant state.
She also thinks that she feels his presence, though it could be her imagination.
Twenty miles from the site, as evening approaches, she pulls her car over to the side of the road. Opening the door she hops out and stands on the asphalt, peering out over the expanse of desolation. She takes a deep breath and then climbs back inside to resume the final leg of her journey.
Fifteen minutes later she is pulling up to a large boulder at the edge of the crater. Buffy parks and cuts the engine. The sky is midnight blue and peppered with thousands upon thousands of tiny stars. The air hums with a heavy silence. There aren't any living creatures for miles.
The car door slams shut loudly behind her and Buffy apologizes to no one. Disturbing the somber quiet feels almost sacrilegious, she thinks. She hugs her leather jacket to her and smoothes down the legs of her jeans.
Clutching the roses she'd purchased at the last outpost of civilization, Buffy moves unsteadily towards the crater's edge. Her boots crunch on the loose gravel. Kneeling, she places the bouquet on the ground and sits back on her heels to take in the disturbing view.
In the pit of the crater, there are no signs of life - not even a weed. There are no indications of it at the jagged edge or even beyond, as far as her eyes can see in the moonlit night.
There's just...nothing; nothing but a great, gaping hole in the world. Just like the hole in her world; A hole that will never, ever be filled.
And here I am saying goodbye...trying to find peace.
"There is no peace." She sighs, reconciling with her pain. "I'm bringing flowers to mark the place that sucked away his soul."
The moment is so surreal to her that she barks out a bitter laugh.
This is beyond unfair; this is cruel and unusual punishment.
"Am I ever going to get a break?!" She stands up and screams into the night. The sound is swallowed up; No echo returns to mock her.
She wants to cry, but there aren't enough tears for this. So she speaks to him.
"Spike..." She closes her eyes and lets the cool, evening breezes buoy her; give her the words - the strength - to do this.
"'I miss you' sounds so...so lame." She laughs bitterly. "It's beyond the telling of it." Buffy opens her eyes and looks down into the black mouth in front of her.
"I was angry with you, with myself, for a long time. I couldn't believe that you left me; that I let you go...that I didn't stay.
"That you didn't stay here with me. There had to have been another way." She takes a shuddering breath. "I know what you're saying. 'D' you think I wanted to burn to a crisp, luv?' or something British like that.
"You really had a way with words..." She stands in silence, recalling the plethora of nicknames he had for her and her friends. She smiles.
"I miss your words, Spike."
Buffy sits on the ground, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of the petals in front of her.
"I miss...I miss your nose." She smiles. "I think you must have broken it one too many times, 'cause it was bumpy. Kind of like a lump of Playdoh. Cute Playdoh, though.
"Ha! Playdoh though...you would have laughed at my lame-o joke, wouldn't you? Yeah, you would've.
"I miss your laugh.
"You didn't laugh nearly enough, Spike. Not nearly." She frowns. "Why was that?" She picks up a pebble and tosses it into the chasm. "Why didn't you...I dunno...let your hair down more...a-around the others. Was it because of me?"
She sighs and
hangs her head, roughly tossing another stone into the abyss.
"Of course it was, Buffy." She shakes her head. "Everything you
did, you did for me.
"Did I ever do anything for you? Did I?
"Did I...I mean...were you happy? In the end? Did you know that I loved you...Love...Love you...with everything that I am? And I always will, Spike. I always will.
"But...but I know that what I'm doing, how I'm living, is not how you would have me live, so...for you...I'm going to try hard to...to let go."
Her voice hitches and the tears begin. She sobs quietly for a few minutes and then gathers her reserves to finish what she's come here to do.
"I miss your hair. I don't know how you managed to keep it so soft when all you did was fry it 'til it was blonde." She smiles a small smile.
"I miss your hands, all rough and tender at the same time. You had beautiful hands.
"I miss your mind, Spike, and how you loved poetry. I...I've been reading some of the writers you told me about. I think you'd be proud. You were always trying to hide what you knew, but...see...your intelligence was in your eyes.
"I miss your eyes, how blue they were; how they always saw me, even when I was hiding from you. How they used to speak to me, even when you weren't saying anything. You were always talking to me with your eyes.
"I miss your voice." She shivers. "Oh god your voice. I don't know if you knew, or if I ever got the chance to tell you...well, I'm telling you now. Your voice was like chocolate for the ears, honey. Oh...your voice was such a distraction during all of those strategy meetings. I used to pray that you wouldn't say anything sometimes, back before we...um...y' know...'cause I couldn't always concentrate on the words because of the sound of your voice.
"That's why I used to get so snippy with you, most of the time. It was my way of, I dunno, snapping out of it; the sort of trance you put me in just by talking to me.
"And then later, when we were not-quite-together...your voice...in my ear while we were...oh man...
"And then last year...the things you said...the way you made me feel. Oh Spike. I miss you. Miss you miss you miss you. How can I do this?"
Buffy draws her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them, softly weeping into her denim-clad legs. She half-expects to hear his voice in the darkness. She's half-tempted to slip away into unconsciousness and let him come to her in a dream.
But this isn't about her, it's about him. And her responsibility to let him rest in peace. Finally.
She raises her head and blinks away the remaining tears. Grabbing the flowers, she climbs to her feet.
Buffy walks to the edge of the cavern. She kisses the soft buds lovingly before she tosses them into the crater, watching their descent until she can no longer distinguish them against the dark matter below.
Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath and looks out over the expanse as she recites.
"If suddenly you do not exist...if suddenly you no longer live, I shall live on. I do not dare, I do not dare to write it, if you...if you die. I shall live on."
She swallows a threatening sob and steels herself to continue.
"Forgive
me. If you no longer live, if you, beloved, my love, if you have died,
all the leaves will fall on my breast, it will rain on my s-soul night and day,
the snow will burn my h-heart, I shall walk with frost and fire and d-death
and snow
"My feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping, but I shall stay alive, because above all things you wanted me indomitable and, my love, because you know that I am not only a woman but all womankind."**
She kisses her shaky fingertips and blows it into the windless air.
"Ok, so I changed it a little." She smiles and then lets out a half-sob.
"Just remember...always, Spike, I love you." She closes her eyes and allows the water of her grief to fall before her.
"Goodbye." She whispers before running quickly back to the car. Getting in, she starts the engine and reverses into the road; turning the wheel and heading back towards Los Angeles. The dawn bursts onto the horizon in a brilliant display of purple and gold as she speeds her way back into the waiting arms of the world.
TBC Chapter 12: Until...
**From 'The
Dead Woman' by Pablo Neruda
A/N: ::sniffle:: I think I ran through an entire box of Puffs [with lotion] writing this. Don't hate me, guys. It'll get better soon. I promise.
Thanks so much to Helen, Tammy, Michelle, Patty, Spikealicious, Dragonqueen12, Wolf116, Carol, Spygrrl, Zzickle, Karen, Rana, Spikedvamp, Spike's Heart, Zzickle and everyone else that reviewed for your feedback. You guys don't know what it means to me that you've stuck with this story. I know I haven't always been very diligent when it comes to updates, but I will endeavor to do better. Mmmm k?
;]
Wuv ya!
~Xio
