Chapter 17

In the dark

Buffy looked up at the sound of multi-colored fireworks lighting up the dark night sky. She realized that New Year's Eve had arrived. A little further away, on the square of the sacred village, a dense crowd of tourists and locals were beginning to enjoy the festivities. The young woman decided to mingle with the crowd in the hope of being invaded by the atmosphere of jubilation and joy that she sorely lacked.

As she slowly strolled among the stalls of food and sacred objects brought out for the occasion, the Slayer noticed the parade of a dragon amidst the laughter. Its gaping maw could have frightened the children but they ran all around it throwing confetti. Buffy observed it more closely. Painted in red and gold, it was supported by a dozen men who moved gracefully to make it undulate despite the lack of visibility under the weight of the fabric. The traditional music gave this spectacle a feeling of total disorientation and Buffy felt even more alone in the midst of these amazed people who shared their impressions with their family and loved ones.

Despite the warmth of the night, she shivered. She missed her friends. She missed Dawn. She continued to walk slowly in the middle of the square but she quickly realized that even this fairytale-like spectacle could not bring her out of her torpor. She headed back to the grand staircase to go back down to the village then. She definitely did not feel like celebrating tonight.

Spike had dozed for part of the day. He felt better but needed to rest frequently. When he woke up around 5pm, he immediately noticed that he was alone. The chair not far from his bed where the Slayer had watched over him was empty. He got up, wincing in pain. His burns were still painful but his muscles hurt much less.

As he headed to the bathroom, he observed his reflection in the mirror in front of him. The bruises seemed less apparent but his face was still marked by the ordeal he had been through.

After taking a shower and drinking a small bag of blood, he had knocked on the Slayer's door but it had remained closed. So he had returned to his room and decided to grant himself a few more hours of rest. Unfortunately, the noise of festivities had prevented him from doing so. He had still turned off the light and resigned himself to turning on the television from his bed, hoping to discover a program that would allow him to forget the din outside.

As he scrolled through the channels for the tenth time that night in an attempt to find one that didn't have Mandarin as the reference language, there was a soft knock on his door. The party was now in full swing outside, and he wondered at first if he had heard correctly. After a few seconds, the knocking started again.

"I'm coming!" He growled, turning off the television.

"Spike? Are you there?"

He recognized her voice immediately and slowly stood up to open the door. "Buffy? What's the…" The rest of his sentence was lost when he noticed her eyes, dull and red from the tears that had left trails on the white skin of her cheeks.

"Did something happen to Dawn?" He asked worriedly. The young woman shook her head and Spike felt a weight leave his chest. Losing Dawn was the worst thing that could happen to the Slayer. The vampire noticed her ruined clothes and the scratches on her bare arms then. "Were you attacked?"

Buffy nodded this time and new tears gathered in her eyes. The vampire took a step outside the room and carefully scanned the illuminated corridor on each side to make sure that her attackers were no longer here. Once certain that they were alone, he let Buffy in and closed the door behind her. He did not think to turn the light back on, the room bathed in a semi-darkness pierced by the flashes of light from fireworks. This darkness suited the young woman who felt a little safer.

"What happened?" The vampire asked. The Slayer's only response was to shake as she fought back tears. Spike rushed to her and grabbed her shoulders, worried. He looked around for any injuries but found nothing. He then looked back at her and his concern grew. The Slayer seemed to be in shock and didn't move.

"Buffy! Talk to me! Tell me what happened!" He repeated, more firmly than he would have liked.

"There's something wrong with me," she finally whispered and the vampire frowned. He didn't understand this answer. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry," the Slayer continued, realizing that Spike was the one who had nearly died a few hours before, "I didn't know where to go and…"

"Buffy, please," Spike cut her short, dismissing her reluctance with a wave of his hand, "Tell me what's wrong." The vampire felt panic threaten to come over him when hearing the distress of the Slayer and he tightened his grip around her shoulders to emphasize his words.

"I was coming back to the hotel and they bumped into me… I didn't even notice them," she began, swallowing back her tears.

"Demons?" The vampire asked.

The Slayer shook her head and her trembling resumed. "They were only humans but I couldn't defend myself," she whispered in an empty voice.

"Maybe they cast a spell on you," Spike suggested. "Magic books are very accessible nowadays…"

"No," the young woman affirmed in a tired voice, "They were just… four men and probably drunk, and I couldn't do anything… They tried to… to…"

At these words, Spike removed his hands from the young woman's shoulders as if he had been burned again. The Slayer didn't need to finish her sentence. He had figured it out. "Tell me they failed," he murmured in a faint voice.

"They failed," the young woman whispered before sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't understand why I couldn't defend myself," she added, feeling her voice tremble. "I'm the Slayer… Why didn't I know how to fight? Why is this happening to me?"

Buffy buried her head in her hands and burst into tears while the vampire felt his rage take over. "Where are they?" He asked in a dull voice after a few moments.

The young woman shrugged, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "They're only humans, Spike," she reminded him with a sigh, "We don't take justice into our own hands…"

The vampire didn't see it that way and he had the irrepressible desire to hunt them down one by one before making them experience the worst tortures he knew.

"Only humans?" He exclaimed. "They're not men! Only monsters can-

His voice broke and he turned towards the window in an attempt to escape the young woman's sight, the images of his own past actions flashing in front of his eyes. A long silence ensued during which neither of them dared to speak.

"It wasn't the same for you," the Slayer finally whispered after several minutes as she regained control of her emotions. Spike shook his head without even turning around. It was exactly the same, and he knew it.

"Spike, I just want to understand what's happening to me," Buffy continued after a few more moments of silence. "You were right when… when you told me I wasn't okay. It's been a while now and I can't deny it anymore with everything that's happened…"

The vampire paused. He was surprised to see that it wasn't so much her attack but her inability to fight that was worrying Buffy the most at that moment. In the end, he put aside his desire for revenge as well as his own guilt to focus on what was eating away at the Slayer.

"Since when did you notice that you couldn't fight?" He asked as he sat down next to her on the edge of the bed.

Buffy shifted uncomfortably. It was time to confide and share her anxiety of the last few weeks. Her first instinct was to push the vampire question away. It was so easy to get up, push the door open and keep at bay what was eating away at her. Yet she was here. She had not hesitated to come and find refuge here when she had understood what she had just escaped. In the midst of fear that had slowly receded and the distress that had exuded through every pore of her skin, the Slayer had focused on the idea of reaching the hotel while knowing that she would be safe with Spike. Maybe she would be contemplating the void from the bench again, this time with the desire to plunge into it without his presence, Buffy realized with a shiver.

Despite this fact, she was almost surprised to be here, in his room. Wouldn't she be better off talking to Willow and Xander, or even Dawn or Giles? Was it just because Spike was the only person she knew from thousands of miles away? Or was it because he had already found the words to comfort her and her subconscious was trying to make her find that feeling again?

Buffy grabbed a tissue not far from the bed. She dabbed her eyes to give herself a few more seconds to think. She suddenly realized that if anyone could know the moods of a Slayer, it was he who had known several of them.

"I think it started shortly after we discovered this new threat," she answered softly. "I thought I was tired or sick at first. But then it happened again and… it could have had serious consequences," she continued, thinking back to the demon Angel had saved her from and the injuries Spike still suffered from.

"Have you ever felt this before?"

"No…"

"Does it happen every time you have to fight?" The vampire asked, puzzled.

"It can happen anytime. But if I have to defend myself at that moment, I'm like… paralyzed," the young woman explained, still uncomfortable. "Remember when we had an argument after I went to visit the temple?"

Spike nodded.

"It had just happened," she said, lowering her head. "I felt… really helpless and then the feeling went away and I felt really good…"

"You sure it's not because of a spell that someone would have cast on you?"

"I don't think it's a spell…"

"Did you ask Willow to check?"

The Slayer stood up and took a few steps. "I didn't really tell the others. I wanted to solve this problem myself," she admitted, biting her lip. "I guess… it's not a success…"

The vampire could only nod silently. "Did you talk to the monk about it? What did he tell you?" He continued to change the subject.

"Not much." Buffy sighed, grabbing a small vase from the bedroom shelf to keep her hands busy. "He said I have to find my strength back, that I have no choice, that it's destiny…" With these words, she put the vase down and turned back to Spike. "Actually, I thought I could trust him to help me figure out what was wrong, but I failed…"

"Does he have a theory about your condition?" Spike asked as his own mind came up with a thousand hypotheses.

"He… thinks it's because of me. That's why I think it has nothing to do with magic," the Slayer whispered, unconsciously wringing her hands.

"What do you think? Is he right?"

Buffy looked up at the vampire and felt her throat tighten. In the end, she leaned against the wall facing the bed Spike was still sitting on. "He probably is," she murmured almost imperceptibly. "I've… lost the fire."

Spike frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't wanna fight anymore, Spike. I really don't want to," she replied, looking away as if the words hadn't come from her.

"And the monk thinks that has something to do with it?"

"Yes. He thinks my mind wants me to understand something and is acting on my body to show me."

They remained silent for a moment, Spike to process what the Slayer had just told him, Buffy to realize what her words implied. She felt terribly tired. Tired of asking herself questions and tired of saving others before saving herself.

"I won't make it this time." The Slayer added, shaking her head, "I know I can't…"

The vampire looked up at Buffy's figure. She was still leaning against the wall in front of him and obscured by the night. He could make out her face reddened by tears and her distant look betrayed the extent of her suffering that she was trying in vain to understand and control. He remembered her strange behavior, inattention, forced detachment and unusual lack of caution that had almost cost her her life since the beginning of her journey. He got up in turn but did not dare to approach her.

"I'm sure you'll find a way. You know, it's not that bad…"

"Of course it's bad, Spike," she cut him short in a faint voice. "You nearly died because of me," she reminded him sadly. "I am less than exemplary… I'm paralyzed by fear and anxiety every second. I can't control my life anymore. And that's surely a sign…"

"A sign of what?" The vampire asked suspiciously.

"That I did my time. That I need to stop believing I can make it before one of you gets killed…"

"What are you gonna do then?"

"I think… I think I'm gonna go back," Buffy murmured while looking up at the one who was now sharing her secret.

"Go back?" The vampire frowned.

"At home," the young woman specified.

"But we don't have the book yet," he reminded her.

"I'm sorry," the Slayer whispered, "You'll need to find someone else to help you this time…"

"What are you talking about?" Spike wondered, increasingly worried by the direction this conversation was taking. "It can't be someone else!"

Buffy was now pacing around the small room, imagining the best way to present her return to her friends. "I'll explain everything to Willow, Dawn, and Xander. I'm sure they'll understand. Giles will be a little angry, but I can call Faith or Kennedy. And there are plenty of other slayers who-

"Buffy!" The vampire suddenly exclaimed as he grabbed her by the shoulders for the second time that evening to better pull her out of the mirage she was creating before his eyes. "Buffy, you are the Slayer! It's up to you to-

"Not this time, Spike. Not this time…" She slowly pulled away from his hold. "I thought that monk could help me, that he could guide me, but it didn't work. And it's my fault…"

She sighed and headed for the door. "I'm sorry, Spike. But I give up."

The vampire had gone out shortly after his conversation with the Slayer. He had first thought of following her to her room and convincing her to stay at all costs. He was the first to find her request legitimate, but he also knew that it was impossible. The mystical powers at the origins of the Slayers, destiny and even the course of life were something far too powerful and immutable to be contested by anyone, even the greatest witch, he thought while thinking of Willow.

Spike felt powerless and worried. He had never seen resignation in her eyes. She had been sad, depressed, revolted, withdrawn into herself to better forget her life, but she had never given up until now. She had threatened to do so several times, but he would never have imagined seeing her give up who she was. Spike had quickly figured out that beyond those moments during which she felt helpless, she was in reality rejecting her mission. She probably wanted to undo and destroy everything that reminded her of the Slayer. To achieve her goal, it seemed that her mind was weakening her body, as if to better prove to her that she could no longer fulfill her role.

The vampire glanced around at his surroundings. He had arrived in front of the main temple after crossing the crowd busy celebrating the new year. The door was open on this holiday but he decided to cross the small gate that surrounded the Zen Garden. He walked briskly to a monk who seemed to be meditating even at this late hour near the fountain and recognized the man Buffy had spoken to the day they arrived.

"Let's talk," he began as a preamble. The monk slowly opened his eyes and carefully examined his interlocutor. His particular aura was not unfamiliar but disconcerted him in this place. "How do you know that I have the answers to your questions?" He asked him, getting up slowly.

"Buffy, I mean, the Slayer. I know she came to see you."

"The blond-haired warrior. Yes, she honored me with her visit…"

"She's not well," the vampire cut him short. "She told me that she thought she could find a solution here though. You can certainly help her."

The monk shook his head. "Your warrior can't be helped by us humans or creatures of the night," he replied, holding Spike's gaze, who frowned at this mention.

"Why not?" He said after a few seconds.

"Because these are obstacles that she created herself."

"How did she do that? She cast a spell on herself without realizing it?" Spike asked him.

"No, it's probably psychological obstacles related to her status as a warrior that she's trying to reject," the man said. "But she won't be able to get rid of them because they're part of her life and always will be."

The vampire sighed and felt the impatience growing on him. He still decided to give the monk a few more minutes so he could develop his reasoning.

"This young woman has been invested with powers that are much beyond us all," the monk continued, "She has chosen to share them with those who have not been designated, but she remains the essence of this force. If she refuses to fight, the others will only be able to try to struggle."

"And you can't do anything?" The vampire suddenly snapped, giving free rein to his anger. "Nothing to relieve her after all she has done to save your world!"

"If a warrior refuses to fight, he gives way to another. It is the law of nature," the monk replied calmly.

Spike stared intently at the man in front of him. "So there's a solution?" He asked hopefully and the monk nodded. "What is it?" The vampire asked eagerly, "How does a warrior give way to the next one?"

"The warrior dies."

Spike was speechless for a few seconds because of this stupid revelation. He knew about this transmission by death from one slayer to another, but he hadn't even thought about it. He had wanted to hear that there was hope for the current warrior.

"You want Buffy to die so that another slayer can save the world instead?" The vampire repeated after a moment of silence.

"Since her wish is no longer to fight…"

"She doesn't wanna fight but she doesn't wanna die!" The vampire yelled, "She wants a normal life! With her sister and friends! Do you know what she had to do to save this miserable world?!"

"Do you know yourself?" The monk asked him in turn, his voice still as calm.

"I was there and I know her," Spike sneered. "She deserves it!" He added.

"It is not up to you to decide, alas."

"Who then?!" His words echoed in the garden among the trees and disturbed a few birds on their branches while new fireworks burst in the black sky.

"What do you know about the slayers?" The monk then asked him in an even tone.

Spike wanted to punch him in the face, but he took a breath and just shrugged before answering his question. "Warriors. One chosen per generation to fight the forces of evil. A great power that they learn to control with their watcher."

"Their power," the monk continued, "How would you describe it?"

Spike frowned and then took a few seconds to think. "It's a power of physical strength, of decision. The Slayer uses it according to her character."

"Indeed, but isn't there a common point to all these young women?"

"Their mission is their top-priority."

"That's right. But that doesn't seem to be the case for the current warrior. And I think I've understood the cause. It's because this power takes her away from the others. Your warrior can no longer bear the solitude of her mission."

"But… she's not alone!" The vampire exclaimed, "She's surrounded by friends, by her sister. Lots of people like her! She's the most surrounded slayer I've ever met!"

"It seems she doesn't feel that way," the monk said, turning away as if to end their conversation.

"What can we do to help her?" The vampire asked again.

"You can show her the light down the road, but it's up to her to walk it and accept it."

"What are you talking about?" The vampire growled, growing more and more annoyed by these mysterious words.

"Nothing more than she doesn't already know…"

Spike huffed. He wasn't usually very patient, and the events of the evening got on his nerves. He had controlled himself not to scour the city for the Slayer's attackers, but right now, he just wanted to let off steam. The noises from outside hadn't diminished, making the seriousness of the situation seem incongruous amidst the burst of laughter.

"Listen, I don't have time to play guessing games!" He said menacingly, "I need answers, and I need them now! Answer this question: how can I help her? How do I get her to feel like herself again?"

The monk was silent for a few seconds. "What stake do you have in the Slayer becoming who she was again? As a creature of the night, you should be happy about it…"

"It's a long story," Spike mumbled as the moon came to furtively illuminate him.

The man seemed to size him up for a few moments then. "Just like the Slayer, you are an illustration of the balance of power in this world. You can use this common point to support her in her mission if that is what you truly desire…"

At these words, the monk turned away from his interlocutor. The vampire watched him disappear behind the door of the temple while his words resonated strangely in him.