“How long was I gone?
“147 days. 147 yesterday. 148 today. But today doesn’t count, now does it?”
“How long was it where you were?”
“A long time.”
Spike nodded his head in feigned understanding. No matter how strong and tough Spike was, he always found himself shriveling into a pile of mush at the sight of his women in their most vulnerable state.
Four long months had passed before today. 147 days of daily nightmares and self-punishing behavior. He dreamt of her each and every waking moment, then toddled off to bed to dream of her some more. The one crucial mistake he made in 4 seconds time, drew out into an eternity for Spike. Instead of freeing Dawn from her shackles, he found himself tumbling off of the tower…over and over again. How could he have been so stupid?
And now, his golden goddess sat before him, hands ripped to shreds and mind numb from trauma. Was there no end to the pain his lapse in strategy had caused?
“Spike.”
The vampire looked up into her sad eyes. “Yes, luv?”
“You didn’t do this, did you?”
Spike narrowed his eyes and thought for a brief moment. “What? Your hands?”
“N-no. Did you bring me back?” Her green eyes burned into his, ready to fight him at any moment.
“God, no! I…” Spike looked around the room, trying to gather his thoughts. “…I had no idea. Th-they didn’t even tell me.”
“Tell me you wouldn’t have done this, even if they had told you about it.”
Spike was stunned quiet. She was upset. Upset and unhappy about her return. God, what had they done to her?
“Never.”
“Good.”
Just then, footsteps bounded from the front porch and into the front door. Her friends.
Spike ran up the ladder, ready for a confrontation. What buggar would be breaking into his crypt at this inopportune time? Whoever it was, was sure to get a mouth full of Spike.
“Buffy?”
She slowly turned around, until the light hit her face just so. It was her. Buffy. She had come to his home. She actually left the confines of some soggy group hug to…what was she here for anyway?
“Come on and have a seat. I’ve added a few comforts, as you can see. Never know when some old friend will drop by unannounced.” His half-smile warmed the room a little, drawing Buffy out of the shadows and onto a chair.
“Uh, I do remember what I said. The promise. To protect her. If I’d have done that, even if I didn’t make it…you wouldn’t have had to jump. But I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course, but after that. Every night after that. I see it all again, I do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways. Every night I save you.”
Suddenly, the previously motionless girl arose from her chair and slowly approached Spike. Once she got close enough, she reached out and took his bloody hand in hers. The hand was cold to her, but she did not falter. Her fingers slowly danced across the intact skin of his fingers, memorizing each and every line.
They sat in the position for a full 10 minutes. Spike did not dare say a word, thinking that even a peep would awaken her from her trance. Buffy’s hands were so very soft and warm, even despite the trauma they had just been through. Her touch was that of a lover’s, gently caressing away the day’s stresses.
Then, she spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Slayer. Nothing is your fault.”
She shook her head as her eyes narrowed. “No.” Beat. “That you had to come back. You were put to rest, like I was. Then something rose you. A demon. It took your body and forced you to dig your way out of that grave.”
A dead silence filled the crypt…until Buffy resumed.
“It was awful, wasn’t it?” Spike stared at her in disbelief. Here she sat, just hours after having found herself buried alive and clawing her way out of a grave, and she was lamenting about something that had happened 120 years ago…to him.
A tear dropped from her face and landed in his bloody knuckle. It burned. Much like holy water would have.
“Buffy.” He lifted her head gently. “It’s alright. I’m over it. But you aren’t.” Spike then lifted her to her feet and sat her next to him. His arm tried to encircle her, but as the many times before, he thought better of it and the arm did a little confused dance behind the girl.
Then, suddenly, Buffy grabbed his arm and placed it around her shoulders. “Hold me, Spike.”
He obliged.
“No one can ever know.” With that, Buffy walked out into the sun, knowing full well that Spike could not follow.
How odd. How odd indeed. He had always pictured the difference between himself and the Slayer. He, cold, dark, hard. Her, hot, soft and frolicking in the sun. Little did he know that to her, heaven was a quiet, dark place. If the ol’ crypt had heat, it may very well…
The door squeaked open ever so slowly. Light pervaded Spike’s realm, then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. "Buffy. It must be Buffy,” he thought to himself. And it was.
“What’re you doin’ here,, luv? It’s only…” he glanced at the crack under the door, “…it’s early. Willow and Xand…”
“I can’t stand to be near them anymore, Spike.” He took two steps toward her. “They all think they did this great thing. They think I should be happy. But I can’t. I’m not.”
“I know. I know.” He motioned toward the couch, but she did not move until his arm gently led her.
There in the faint glow from the protected windows, Slayer and Vampire sat face to face. Words would not come. There was so very much he needed to say to her. He wanted to tell her it would be alright. He wanted to tell her why her friends had brought her back. He needed to tell her that he would always be there for her.
“What do you think Giles will say? Will he be afraid of me? Do you think he will be disappointed with what has happened to me?”
“What?” Spike has no idea where this was coming from.
“I was dead. For over 4 months I was rotting in that grave. Now, I’m back. Just like you.”
All he could do was wait for the punch line. “Yeah. And?”
Buffy took a deep breath, then looked up at her confidant with doe eyes. “Do I have a soul?”
Every emotion danced across the vampire’s face in his struggle to understand her.
“Well, do I? Or was it left behind, in heaven?”
He grabbed her by both shoulders. “Buffy. You. Are. You. There’s no denyin’ it. Your truth – the one you told me yesterday? It proves it. Don’t you see? If you had no soul, then why would you care to protect them like this? You’re just as bloody Good as you ever were.”
“Then why is it I trust you more than I do them?”
Before he knew it, his jaw had fallen from his face. “Why do I find myself drawn to you and away from them? I would rather spend my time here, in your arms, than out there, in the sunlight.”
He had no idea what to think, let alone what to say. On one hand, she had told him, in no uncertain terms, that she needed and wanted him. On the other hand, she felt that this meant she had lost her soul.
“Spike? Are you still in there?”
“You. You…” He swallowed hard. “Your Watcher will give you a big, soddin’ hug and ask you how you feel, that’s what he’ll do. Now, no more talk about your soul. It’s right there.” With that, he put his hand on her heart, and she released the first genuine smile he had seen since her return.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. You wouldn’t be you without it. You’d just be some Evil shell of a human, like me.” Spike bowed his head.
“Not like you.” Her hand found itself at his chin, raising his head as he had done with her earlier.
“’Cuz I got this soddin’ chip in m…”
His words were broken off by a set of Slayer lips upon his own. When she pulled away, his eyes remained closed, but he let out an involuntary whimper.
“No. Because you’re more than that, Spike. You always were.”
End