Chapter Eight
“There’s something I need to talk to you
about, Dawnie.”
Dawn shifted nervously under Buffy’s gaze.
“Now?” she protested. “I’m kinda tired, what
with the whole fighting demons in the sewers and trying to live with the trauma
of being named Umad.”
Buffy took a deep breath. “Yeah, now.”
“You called me ‘Dawnie’. Lots of times that
means it’s either something really important or something I’m not gonna like.
Is it, um, either of those things?”
“It’s important, yeah.” Buffy looked into her
sister’s wary eyes. “But not bad important.”
Dawn visibly relaxed.
They sat down on Dawn’s bed together. After
Spike had strolled out, Buffy had taken a few minutes to calm down, and had
been waiting for Dawn in the younger girl’s bedroom when she got out of the
shower. Dawn was still combing out her wet hair, and Buffy ran her eyes over
the gleaming strands, over her sister’s face, so young, and over her beautiful
blue eyes. So like Spike’s, she thought inconsequentially.
“It’s about when I was, ah, gone…”
Dawn’s mouth formed an ‘O’, but no sound came
out. The sisters stared at each other.
“Was it – was it really bad?” Dawn asked at
last. Her tone held reluctance and fear.
“It was – no, Dawnie, it wasn’t bad.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Buffy gave a soft smile of remembrance.
“I wasn’t in hell. Or in any kind of a hell dimension.”
“You weren’t?” Buffy wasn’t sure if she could
interpret the look in her sister’s eyes. Hope, maybe? Something else?
“No. I – I was in heaven, just like you
thought. I don’t know why
She overheard them sometimes, from the next
room, or from down the hall.
She thought
it was because she didn’t want to cause them pain. They were so sure they’d
done something wonderful, and she didn’t want to take that away from them. She
didn’t know if the relief they would feel at knowing she hadn’t been suffering
hellish torments would make up for knowing what they’d taken her from, and what
they’d taken from her.
Buffy shifted a bit uneasily. She hoped she wasn’t punishing them in some
way by withholding the information from them. She hoped she wasn’t the kind of person who would do that. But just the
fact that it had occurred to her made her question her motives.
Every time she thought about sitting down with
them and telling them what had really happened, every time she envisioned the
encounter, everything inside just coiled into knots, and she was left feeling
shaken and ill. She’d thought that her reluctance to discuss the issue with
them might be because she was having so much trouble remembering her past with
them clearly, that they felt like little more than strangers to her. But her
memories were back now, and, at this point at least, that hadn’t affected her
feelings about telling them at all.
That
could change at any time, Buffy, she told herself. Just relax, let things come. Giles and Spike
kept telling her that she hadn’t been back long, that she needed to…
Buffy took a deep breath, letting it out
slowly. Relax. Don’t … Just relax.
Relax, relax, relax. Think instead about how great it
was to be able to remember things – people – events. For her friends to, at
least, feel more – familiar – to her. Buffy allowed herself to enjoy the wash
of memories. She smiled. They’d been through so much together, faced and
overcome everything the Hellmouth had thrown at them. Well, almost everything.
And they’d done it by working together. Not always with perfect symmetry but…
“This is the crack team that foils my every
plan? I am deeply ashamed.”
Buffy’s smile deepened. They might not have
been experts, but they’d managed to foil Spike’s plans often enough. His, and a
lot of the other demony types that had shown up on the Hellmouth with visions
of mayhem dancing in their heads.
She could remember now, and it was such a
relief to not have to reach for memories of their shared past, but… But more
familiar or not, she still didn’t feel right
about them. Connected.
Relax, relax, relax.
Grrr. If she could
make that growly-roar sound that Spike did so well,
she would. Just give it time, Buffy.
Maybe she could record herself, and Spike and Giles saying that into one of
those miniature tape recorders like Felicity used, shove it under her pillow,
and play it all night. Really absorb it into her brain, like some form of
self-hypnosis. Things are coming back. You will feel like you used to. You will be able to feel the friendship and caring inside you again. Just. Give. It.
Time.
Dawn sat back against her headboard, and
tipped her face up toward the ceiling for a moment.
“I’m – I’m glad. I was scared about it,
worried, you know, that hell had sorta freaked you
out,” she admitted. “Changed you.”
“Yeah,” Buffy said softly. “I know I’ve been
acting pretty strange since I got back. I think I was kinda in shock or
something at first. Maybe I still am a little. And I’ve been really confused
about things, having… having some major memory problems. But, hey! They seem to
be clearing up, too. So I’m thinking, soon…
“Memory problems?” Dawn asked. “Like not
knowing where anything in town is?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “It was the tour,
wasn’t it? It gave me away.”
“Pretty much,” Dawn smiled. “Turning around to
check out landmarks like dad taught us when he dragged us out on one of those
lame, and Could the Ground Be Any Rockier Under My Back? camping
trips.”
“Eeeww.” Buffy concurred on the camping
memories.
“The clincher was when you didn’t know who
Giles was.”
“Oh, yeah, that.” Buffy met her eyes. “I know
it’s weird. It’s like a whole new chapter of weirdness in the life of Buffy
Summers. When I first came back it was pretty, er, bad.” She gave a helpless
lift of her shoulders, and made a face. “Okay, it was worse than bad. I didn’t
know where I was, or who all the people around me were. Except you,” she
quickly assured her. “I knew you. Right away. Well almost right away. On the
stairs, just before you and Spike cleaned up my hands. When you grabbed me in
that alley and dragged me home through,” she frowned, “big building, long
halls, gaudy carpeting?”
“The multiplex.”
“Oh. Well, I’m still a little confused about
that, I have to admit. I didn’t have any idea what was going on. But once we
got back here, it was kinda like – ‘oh, there’s Dawn
and Spike.’” She frowned. “That was all the same night, right?”
“Yeah,” Dawn replied, frowning herself.
Buffy felt rather pleased with herself, but catching the line between Dawn’s brows, she
quickly offered more reassurance. “I remember everyone now, really.”
“You really didn’t know who
“Well, it wasn’t a total eclipse of my brain.
It would kind of come and go.” Buffy made wave motions with her hand. “Whoosh,
memory working, whoosh, memory totally defective. Back and forth. Up and down.
Not you see it, now you –”
“Sorta roller-coastery?” Dawn interrupted her lengthening list of
descriptions with one of her own.
Buffy considered that. “Maybe,” she admitted.
“Without, you know, the cool weightless effects.”
“Like when your butt goes airborne – I love
that!” Dawn enthused.
Buffy smiled. “Me, too.” She looked at Dawn
out of the corner of her eyes. “You know, I remembered you right away, but some
little details from our past seem really clear to me right now. Like when you
crossed off ‘Buffy’ and wrote in ‘Dawn’ on my autographed photo of Dorothy Hamill and took it to school for show and tell, and when
you grabbed my New Kids on the Block video and pulled the tape out so it was
garbage, so we ‘could’ watch ‘Rainbow Brite and the
Star Stealer’ instead for, like, the ten millionth time.”
“Hey, it was your video from when you were a
kid!” Dawn tried to pass her geekiness on to her
sister’s shoulders.
“I also remembering when you borrowed my brand
new red halter top – the one with the little rhinestones around the neck?” she
nudged Dawn’s memory, “And wore it for a Halloween costume – as a hooker. Not
to mention you were, like, ten at the time, and shouldn’t’ve
even known what a hooker was.”
“Oh great. I get to be Umad
and my sister remembers all the times she most wanted to kill me – all
in one night!”
“You know what else I remember? I remember
when mom lost her job in
“Only slightly scorched,” Dawn added proudly.
“And that night just after Angel left Sunnydale? You bought a giant Hershey bar and flowers and
gave them to me. So I’m not just remembering the bad things.”
“No, you’re remembering the chocolatey moments too.”
“Yeah.” Buffy nodded. “‘Cause chocolate and
Buffy?”
She looked at Dawn expectantly.
“Veerrry mixy things,” they drawled
out in unison. They grinned together at shared memories.
A comfortable silence descended.
“What was it like?” Dawn asked at last. “I
mean heaven. What was it like?”
Buffy smiled. “Wonderful. Unbelievable.”
“Did you get, like, the answers to all your
questions about, you know, life, and stuff?” Dawn’s eyes lit up briefly. “Was
it forty-two?”
“Hmmm?” Buffy’s mind was beginning to drift as
she let remembered sensations flow through her body. So wonderful.
“Never mind,” Dawn said.
“It wasn’t like that,” Buffy murmured. Her
eyes took on a certain dreaminess, a vague distance.
“I wasn’t really – thinking about stuff, I guess. It was just the most amazing
peace. I was resting, floating, maybe.” “It was like being completely
surrounded by warmth and love. Total serenity.”
I can
almost touch it. Almost…
“Buffy? Buffy?” Dawn’s voice reached her,
faint, and faintly wigged. “Buffy!”
“Hmmm?”
“Are you okay?”
“Mmm-hmmm,” Buffy
nodded, blinking. “Fine.”
Buffy lay down next to Dawn. She trailed her
fingers across the younger girl’s hand, smiling softly. Dawn looked at her hard
for a moment before laying down as well. She curled
onto her side, and the sisters lay facing one another. Buffy’s fingers moved to
Dawn’s hair, and for a moment she toyed with the damp strands as she studied
her face again.
“She's
more than that. More than family... my sister, my daughter...” I love her, mom,
and I promise you, I’ll take care of her.
“You’ve been really helpful.” Her voice was
hushed. “And I want you to know how much I appreciate it. You’ve kind of taken
in all the weirdness that has been me lately, and accepted it, and I wanted to
thank you for not freaking out to my face, even though I’m sure it was pretty
hard not to.”
“Sometimes,” Dawn admitted. “Even right now,
you’re, um, not acting real Buffyish.”
Buffy’s face went into thoughtful mode as she
considered that. She felt Buffyish.
“I feel like me,” she said with certainty.
“Like Buffy.”
“Is that a lot like ‘feeling like a ‘Joan’’?”
“Very funny.”
“You picked that lame-o name, not me!”
“There’s nothing wrong with Joan.” Actually,
she thought the name seemed sorta like a combination
of Joyce and Dawn. Maybe. A little.
Dawn rolled her eyes. “But, yeah, I’ve been
worried. You’ve been all kind of, um, softer or something.”
Buffy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I know this part!
It’s where the conversation somehow turns into a listing of my previous and
apparently well known faults.”
Dawn raised her brows. “Do you want me to get
my notebook with the complete listing? Reading it might take the rest of the
night, but…”
“Do you take lessons from Spike, or is this a
natural talent?” Buffy asked.
Dawn smirked before forcing her face into a
contemplative visage. “Both, I think,” she answered, nodding thoughtfully. Then
she laughed.
“Giles and Spike have kind of said the same
thing – that I seem different. But I feel like me. Mostly. But then I was
always with me, wasn’t I?”
“Huh?”
“Well, I was gone, away from all of you, and…
” her voice trailed off.
Dawn frowned. “What?” she urged.
“I was there a long time, Dawnie.
In heaven.”
“Longer than five months, you mean?” Dawn
stared into her sister’s eyes. “But – how? And how long?”
“Time didn’t pass the same way it does here.
And for me, it felt like I was there for hundreds of years.
“Wow,” Dawn said softly, her voice full of
emotions. Shock. Wonder.
Buffy watched her trying to absorb this new
piece of information.
“So, maybe I did change. I don’t know. I feel
like me, but at the same time, I know I’m not quite how I was before… It’s like
I’m readjusting, you know? Some things are a little – difficult. Odd things.
Like noise. It bothers me, and I find myself trying to avoid it. Spike and I
were at the Bronze earlier, and I just kept trying to tune it all out, kept
wishing things were just sort of – quiet, you know? Peaceful?”
“Well, if you were surrounded by peace for
hundreds of years…” Dawn offered.
“Yeah,” Buffy agreed. “And it’s kind of
painful – physically painful – to feel anger. I’ve thought about that a lot,
‘cause I know that’s not how I used to feel at all. I got mad one night on
patrol, and it made me feel kind of, you know, gack! Maybe it’s just, having been away for so long, never
feeling any pain or anger…”
Buffy frowned. “Although… I had a fight with
Spike while you were in the shower, and it didn’t make me feel sick at all. So
maybe I’m readjusting to that, too.”
“You had a fight with Spike?” Dawn asked
cautiously, but Buffy could hear the note of fear in her voice.
She made a face. “Oh, no, not that kind of
fight,” she reassured her. “Just like, an argument, you know. No big. Really.”
It had actually felt kind of – good.
“Look at
you. All flushed and smart mouthed. Body all tight, and eyes shooting daggers
at me. Givin’ me hell. Told you, love, everything you
need is inside you.”
“Good. ‘Cause he’s my best friend, and I don’t
want you two going all fighty/kill each other/mortal
enemy with each other again.”
“I know. Don’t worry. We were just talking
some stuff out, really. And Spike was all – you know…” Buffy rolled onto her
back and made lots of dramatic arm gestures.
Dawn giggled. “Yeah, he kinda
talks with his whole body sometimes, doesn’t he? I should have known… The way
he was pacing around the living room like he’d overdosed on caffeine or
something – he was all anxious to burst out with stuff, wasn’t he?” She sighed.
“Stuff not for ‘kid ears’, I suppose,” she added with some exasperation. “It’s kinda funny watching him sometimes, ‘cause
he can be so still and quiet, too.”
Dawn shifted the conversation back to Buffy.
“I was worried about you being in hell, and well…”
“Yeah?” Buffy’s eyes encouraged her to go on.
“The coffin,” she said in a rush. “Spike said
you dream about it a lot. About waking up there, being buried alive.”
“He did?” He shouldn’t have told her…
“Yeah,
“Oh,” That explained Spike telling her. “Yeah,
I – I do.” Buffy didn’t want to tell her how horrifying she still found the
nightmares. Sheer terror, unreasoning, everything inside her screaming.
Couldn’t breath, couldn’t… “I don’t have quite as many as I did at first.” Damn
it, her voice was shaking. She could hear it. She hoped Dawn couldn’t. “And I –
I’m hoping they’ll stop soon…” her voice petered out. She didn’t want to admit
how many she still had, how frequently they came. You don’t have as many as you did, she reminded herself. They will go away. Someday.
Dawn studied her face, and Buffy had to force
herself to meet the blue depths of her sister’s eyes, as she tried to hide this
horror from the younger girl.
“Are you mad at them? At
Buffy sighed. “I really don’t know, Dawn.
Sometimes I think I am, and sometimes I think I’m not, or that ‘mad’ isn’t
quite the right word.”
“Is it roller-coastery
– like your memories were?”
“Yeah, maybe it is.”
“So you’re gonna
tell them now, huh? And you’re telling me first…”
“No!” The single word was strong. “I, um, I
don’t want them to know.”
“Why not? They should know.” Dawn seemed
surprised that she wouldn’t share this information.
“It would crush them, Dawn. They think they
did a wonderful thing – that they saved me. If they
knew… I just don’t want them to be hurt.”
Dawn stared into her face. “But they hurt you,
didn’t they? A lot?”
“It hurts, yeah.” Buffy admitted quietly. She
paused. “ I know I’ve been… I’m working on it, I
promise. And I do feel like things are getting better.”
Buffy swallowed hard as she felt Dawn’s arms
close around her.
“I’m sorry it’s hard for you, Buffy. But I’m
glad you’re back,” she whispered. “I missed you.”
For long, long minutes, the sisters lay
wrapped in each other’s arms. Buffy stroked her hands comfortingly over Dawn’s
back, and absorbed a few of her sister’s tears into the flesh of her shoulder.
Her own eyes burned, but she didn’t cry. She thought she might be afraid to
start.
“I think you should tell the others,” Dawn
said at last, moving away and dashing at her eyes. She sniffed. “
“I do want to remember,” Buffy said. God, more
than anything. “But the others… telling them. Um, not
yet. I just… In some ways I feel like I’m just getting to know them again, and,
right now, I’m not ready to answer a lot of questions from them. But I think
you and Spike are right, that I should tell them. Just, let me do it in my own
time, okay?”
“Spike knows?” Dawn looked surprised. Buffy
studied her, concerned. But she didn’t look angry or hurt that she hadn’t been
told first – just surprised.
“Yeah. I’m not really sure why I told him…”
“You probably just needed to tell someone. And
he can be kinda easy to talk to – you know, cause he
really listens, and stuff,” Dawn suggested.
“Yeah, he does, doesn’t he?” Buffy agreed.
“We talked about it, you know. Me and Spike.
About heaven. While you were – gone,” Dawn confided. “Talked about you and mom
being together again. Happy. ‘Doin’ good deeds’ Spike
said.” Dawn paused. “Did you, um… did you see mom?”
Buffy tried to find the words to explain her
experience. “I’m not sure. It wasn’t really like that. I was still me, you
know, but it wasn’t like here. Everything was just soft, and safe, and warm.
And I could kinda feel mom, like I could feel
everyone else. But not in the sense that I could touch her, or anyone else. It
was just – I knew they were okay – the people I care about. Or, at least, that
they were in safe hands, being taken care of, or that they would be, that
someone was watching out for them. Does that make any sense?”
Dawn considered. “Kinda.”
She paused. “Maybe it’s one of those things where you had to be there.” Dawn
looked down at her hands, and Buffy watched her twist them together. “And you
were,” she went on at last. “I’m thinking there aren’t too many people on earth
who can say that, Buffy.” She paused again. “Probably none, unless you wanna count those near death experience people. Do you know
how lucky you are? To know what heaven is like? You’ll probably go back there,
too, someday.”
I will, Buffy
thought. Someday that will all be mine
again. Someday. And forever.
“I’m glad you told me.” Dawn added. “You need
to tell me stuff like this, Buffy. I’m your sister. You said I was helpful, but
it still would have been better if I’d known what was going on. And I’m old
enough to know.”
“You’re only fourteen. Some things –”
“Fifteen,” Dawn corrected.
Right. Fifteen. She’d missed her birthday.
What with the being dead and all.
“And you were already the Slayer when you were
fifteen,” Dawn reminded her.
Buffy took a deep breath and blew it slowly
out. “Being the Slayer when I was fifteen wasn’t so wonderful, you know. I found
out a lot of things I still wish I didn’t know, and maybe I’m just trying to
protect you a little.”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “Buffy, protecting me is
fine. You know, from demons, and from all the assorted wonderfulness of living
on the Hellmouth. But regular stuff? Just tell me. I
hate it when people hide stuff from me, make decisions for me because they
don’t think I can handle anything. I’m not a kid.”
Buffy looked into her serious eyes. “Okay. I
promise that I’ll try. And I – I’m
sorry I didn’t tell you right away, that you had to worry about me.”
Buffy rolled to the edge of the bed and stood
up. “And Dawnie?”
“Yeah?”
“If someone makes me forget heaven again, you
and Spike know, and you can remind me, okay?”
‘Yeah. Okay.”
“Promise me?” Buffy asked, a
certain wistfulness in her voice.
“I promise,” her sister assured her.
~*~
Heaven.
Of course she’d been in heaven. How could she
ever have doubted it for a minute? She should never have listened to
After all, ‘Chosen One’, right? She was bound
to go to heaven. Buffy was, like, a superhero or something, just like ‘Joan’
had said in the Magic Box. Dawn shifted restlessly, trying to ignore the
niggling little feeling of resentment. She
was happy for Buffy. Of course
she was. What kind of a horrible person would she be if she wasn’t happy to
know her sister had been in heaven? It’s not like she’d wanted Buffy to be in hell.
Dawn flopped onto her back. Don’t, Dawn, she told herself harshly. Don’t do this.
You are glad your sister was in heaven. You are
not secretly wishing she hadn’t
been. A moment of jealousy that Buffy probably knew what her future held does not make you evil. You are not thinking bad, evil thoughts. You’re
just thinking. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
Things
are changing. You’re changing. It
doesn’t matter what you were before you were Dawn Summers. You can be more than
that. More than something created to destroy the world. Better. You can. Youcanyoucanyoucanyoucan….
Spike is
changing, and you can change too. It doesn’t matter much how you start out…
Isn’t that what he’d said? And Spike knew a lot, about stuff, and about evil.
He must know what he was talking about.
Dawn moved from one position to another,
unable to get comfortable.
Buffy didn’t feel like she’d been with mom.
That surprised her. Almost as soon as Buffy died, Dawn had figured Buffy and
her mom were together in heaven. She’d worried a little about that portal
thing, but since Buffy’s body had stayed in this dimension,
she’d figured diving into it like that hadn’t sent her anywhere. Her
conversations with Spike last summer had sort of lent foundations to her heaven
ideas, and, after that, she hadn’t woven her imaginings around anything but
that scenario. They were together, happy, having fun and being all sort of
helpful-ish. Dawn wasn’t quite sure who she’d thought
they were helping, or how, because, really, who needed help in heaven?, but she’d liked the general good-deed-doing idea. Maybe
it was even kinda like that ‘Touched By An Angel’ show
Or even just to say hi. Maybe they’d look like
strangers, but she’d still feel something, and later she’d realize it had been
them.
Dawn pulled her extra pillow into her arms,
hugging it tightly.
But now… Weren’t you with the people you loved
when you died? Get reunited with them? Were you just – alone? Dawn didn’t like
that idea at all. Buffy said it had been wonderful. Perfect peace. Like
floating in an ocean of warmth and love or something like that. Personally?
Dawn thought she’d be a lot happier surrounded by the people she loved, instead
of floating in some huge sea all alone, even if it was all peaceful.
If you were just alone, maybe it didn’t matter
all that much where you ended up.
~*~
He
was out there – on the roof. Buffy wondered if she should try to talk to him,
but decided against it. She was exhausted, and if he was still in the mood to
argue, she didn’t think she had the energy to match him.
She’d
decided against going in to
She
was still exhausted, but she’d been
laying awake for what seemed like hours, her active mind denying her any real
rest. She was happy about the talk with Dawn, and hoped her sister would adjust
to everything she’d told her. She was concerned about
She’d
spent a lot of time with him since she’d come back and, now, after the ‘moment’
they’d shared at the Bronze, she wondered where it was all leading. The ‘moment’
had been hot, amazing. And it had been accompanied by a couple of, um, accessory moments.
He
cared about her, for her. She knew that…
Look at me! I... love... you. You're all I bloody think about... Dream about...
You're in my gut, my throat... I'm drowning in you, Summers.
Drowning in you…
When
he’d told her he loved her – before – she’d told herself repeatedly that it was
some sick obsession, that he was incapable of really loving. No soul. Can’t love. Cut and dried, right? Angel had made
that pretty clear, and Giles had backed that theory up.
But
even then she’d
wondered about it, had felt that there was something there, inside him, something beyond obsession. If she’d
really believed he was nothing more than a totally evil, mad stalker guy, she
never would have taken her mom and Dawn to him to be protected. She’d trusted him with them. More than once.
But
she hadn’t had the time or the energy to dwell on it, to deal with it or with
him. Her mother’s illness and death, Dawn, Glory, monks and knights, the
impending end of the world as they’d known it… Somehow, trying to understand
Spike and their odd relationship hadn’t been very high on her list of
priorities.
She
didn’t think Spike had really had the time to think it through either, to
understand what he’d been feeling, or why. Certainly he’d been having major
problems accepting it. “Because this –
with you – is wrong. I know it! I’m not a complete idiot!...”
Not
to mention the trouble he’d had trying to figure out how to deal with it.
Chaining her up had been bad enough. She didn’t even want to think about the Buffybot, which had totally squigged
her out. “It wasn't one time. It was lots
of times. And lots of different ways. I could make sketches.” Buffy could
remember overhearing
Of
course, even if Spike had been having trouble dealing with his feelings, he
hadn’t seemed to have any doubt that they existed, or that they were real, and
strong. He’d clearly wanted to explore them, act on them. And he’d seemed
almost equally sure that she felt something, too.
“You can't tell me there isn't anything
there between you and me. I know you feel something.”
She
hadn’t thought so. Not then. In fact, she’d been upset, angry, even disgusted.
And strangely afraid.
“We have something, Buffy. It's not pretty,
but it's real, and there's nothing either one of us can do about it.”
No,
Spike. We. Do. Not. Have. Something.
She could still remember repeating that over and over in her head. We. Have. Nothing. And she’d made her lack of
feelings for him pretty clear to him, too, hadn’t she? “The only chance you had with me was when I was unconscious.” Not a
lot of room for doubt there.
But
when Glory had tortured him…
It
had changed – things. Something. She
wasn’t quite sure what, but… It showed her something inside him, and had made
her look at him, think of him in a slightly different way. ”Angel had a soul. He was good.” “And I can be too. I've changed
Buffy... Something's happening to me.” She still hadn’t had the time or
energy to dwell on it, but something had
changed. Something in how she thought about the whole situation, about him…
“Because Buffy... the other, not so pleasant
Buffy… anything happened to Dawn, it'd destroy her. I couldn't live, her bein' in that much pain. Let Glory kill me first. Nearly
bloody did.”
“I couldn't live, her bein'
in that much pain.”
That had no longer felt like some sick
obsession. That had felt like
something more…
The
kind of tortures Glory had subjected him to… hours and hours of it…
And
why? To protect Dawn, and to try to protect her
from having to endure any more pain. “I
couldn’t live, her bein’ in that much pain.”
That
single act, and those words, had changed something in her, in how she felt… Oh,
she hadn’t suddenly fallen in love with him, hadn’t had any romantic feelings
for him… It wasn’t like that. But when they’d gone on the run from Glory, Spike
hadn’t been with them just because he’d stolen the Winnebago. He’d been with
them because she fell they could use his help, because she felt he had earned a
spot in the group, and because she knew she could count on him to put Dawn’s
well-being first. And, most importantly, because
he had earned the right to offer his protection.
That
he’d taken his promise to protect Dawn so seriously, even after her death…
That
meant a lot to her. A lot.
And
since she’d come back?
She
was comfortable with him. More than anyone on this planet, she was comfortable
with him. But it was more than that. She was worried about him thinking he was responsible for her death, concerned that
He mattered to her.
The
acknowledgement didn’t make her feel restless or uncomfortable. It didn’t worry
or upset her…
She
tried to recapture the images that had been running through her head when she’d
first seen him standing at the base of the stairs in her house, looking up at
her, and those that she’d seen in those first hours, days, weeks… Buffy
grimaced again briefly at the concept of time. She’d seen images of them, the two of them, rapid fire
pictures… What? Where? They weren’t memories, were they? She’d had so many
problems with her memory since she’d been brought back that she was hesitant
now to trust its reliability. And the images were so vague now, almost
impossible to capture at all, much less to analyze in any detail. But she’d
always felt relatively confident in the accuracy of her memories of Spike, and
she did know that they hadn’t felt
like memories. They hadn’t felt familiar in any way. They’d been of – other times. Buffy shifted as her brow
furrowed.
She
didn’t understand…
A
sense of loss flowed through her, a deep, inexplicable sadness. Buffy curled
onto her side, drawing her knees up, and tucking a hand beneath her cheek. She
tried to reassure herself, as she had so often when these images hovered on the
fringes of her mind, teasing her, that it would be okay. They aren’t lost
forever. I’ll get them back, she thought… Glimpses.
What’s to come…
Maybe,
when I get them back, when I can see them again, I’ll even understand them.
She
tried to shrug off the encroaching sadness.
She didn’t want to think of the things she’d lost, the things she was
desperately afraid she was still losing. Your
memories are back now, she told herself firmly. Maybe you’ll stop feeling like little pieces of yourself are dissolving
into nothingness. Gone.
You’re all here. Everything you need is
inside you. Spike had seemed very certain of that as far as her Slayerness went. Maybe it’s true of everything. Or maybe
you won’t ever miss those things you’re afraid are gone. Won’t
miss them. Won’t even know what
they were…
More
than losing anything else, she feared losing her memories of heaven. Already it
felt harder to hold onto them, to remember clearly. She wouldn’t be able to
bear it if she lost them altogether. She should write them down, she thought,
wondering why she hadn’t considered it before. She felt a fleeting sense of
amusement. It wouldn’t take long. She could never find the words to adequately
describe it, anyway. Tomorrow, she promised herself. After
she’d talked to
She
missed it so much, the warmth and peace of heaven. No worries, no pain, no
death.
She
didn’t regret being back – here. Not really. Not exactly.
It was far more complicated than that.
“And God will wipe away every tear from
their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor pain,
for the former things have passed away.”
Buffy
blinked, trying to… It didn’t help. A tear slipped out of the corner of her
eye, rolling down her face to fall onto her hand. More followed. Her knees drew
up closer to her chest.
~*~
Buffy rolled onto her back, brushing the back
of her hand over her face. Had she slept? She must have. Nnnn…
She arched her body, stretching her limbs before she got up and moving quietly
down the hall to the bathroom for a glass of water. She really wanted some
juice but the effort of going down to the kitchen seemed too great. She
wondered vaguely what had happened to her dorm refrigerator. ‘Cause it would sooo fit into that corner between the windows… She could
stock it with some of those little bottles of fruit juice. God, orange juice
sounded so good right now…
When she went back into her bedroom, she only
hesitated a moment before crossing to her window. She slid it open, but instead
of climbing out onto the roof, she turned and sat on the sill, facing into her
room, and pressing her hands between her knees casually.
“Spike,” she greeted.
“Slayer.”
It was a long time before she went on. Spike,
still looking out over the yard, seemed content to wait for her to speak.
“I talked to Dawn about… about being in
heaven.”
“I’m glad, love,” he answered, his voice as
quiet as hers. “She needed to know.”
“Yeah, I’m glad, too. I’m, ah,
still not ready to tell the others, though.”
A pause.
“It’s your decision.”
“But you don’t agree with it.”
“No.”
“I just don’t –” she broke off. “We’ve been
over this.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to talk to
“To me? Nothing.”
“You said she tried to mess with your head.”
“It’s not important, Slayer.”
“Did she try to make you forget something?”
Silence.
“Spike?”
“Not. Important.”
“Why are you so stubborn?” Her voice was still
quiet, but her exasperation was clear.
“I wouldn’t talk stubborn if I were you,
love.”
Buffy hesitated, wanting to push, to demand an
answer. But she knew that tone, the way he altered the mood of the discussion.
Pushing wouldn’t help. The subject was closed.
“There you go, extolling my virtues again,”
she said instead.
“There’s a lot of raw material to work with.”
“You and Dawn team up on this whole thing,
don’t you? Dawn freely admitted that you’re tutoring her in The Faults of Buffy
Summers 101.”
He snorted.
“I – I wanted you to know that I’m not gonna let
“Slayer –”
“What?”
“I jes’…”
She waited.
“You and little sis. I don’t want anyone
messing with either of you, fucking with you in any way.”
“I know,” Buffy said quietly.
“You’re important to me, both of you.” The words
sounded dragged from him.
“I know.”
They hadn’t once turned to look at each other,
but going over the points of their earlier arguments more calmly cleared the
air a little, and the silence they now shared was comfortable.
“I should try to sleep,” Buffy said after a
few minutes had passed.
“You’re okay then, love?” he asked, voice low.
“Earlier…”
He’d heard her crying, she realized. Buffy
swallowed, hunching her shoulders, as her knees squeezed her hands briefly. She
hadn’t been sobbing, but she imagined the hitches in her breathing had given
her away.
“It was nothing,” she hedged. “Just a – a moment, I guess.”
Another pause.
“And now the moment’s gone?”
Her lips curved. “Yeah.”
“Go to bed, pet.”
“Night.”
“Night.”
“Oh, and Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s no swearing in this house.”
His head swiveled slowly toward her, and his
eyes narrowed in disbelief. “What?” he sounded vaguely – outraged.
She looked at him over her shoulder, brows
raised. “You heard me. My mom hated swearing. It was one of her unbreakable
rules. She made me sit in a chair, enjoying a ‘time out’ every time I slipped
up. Later, I got grounded. Dawn, of course, never
slipped up in front of mom. She had this amazing mom radar. I always envied
it. You would not believe what that girl got away with…”
“Yeah, I would. And I’ll say whatever I bloody
well feel like saying, Slayer.”
One brow went higher. “Not in my house,
mister,” she said firmly.
Spike made some indescribable sound of
amusement. “Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s better.” She nodded her approval at his
acceptance of her authority, and kept the smile off her face.
“In deference to Joyce,” he jibed, deflating
her. “Your mum was a fine lady.”
“Are you implying I’m not a lady?”
“Pffft.” His eyes
gleamed. They drifted past her to the bed. “Not implying it, love.” His eyes
came back to her, running with slow deliberation over the curves of her upper
body. “’m counting on it.”
Buffy’s eyes widened a little. She stared. She
hesitated. She stood up and reached for the wooden frame of the window. “You’re
such a pig, Spike,” she finally told him, and closed the window, tight.
His looked back out over the lawn. “Oink,” he
said with satisfaction.
~*~
The dream felt odd, different. Not a Slayer
dream. At least, she didn’t think so… But something about it…
It seemed more real than a normal dream, or
perhaps less so – neither of which made any sense. Nor did the fact that she
was trying to analyze the dream while she was having it. In the dream, though,
that analytical bent passed as perfectly normal.
The montage of images seemed logical, even straightforward. They seemed connected, but…
but maybe – weren’t.
Flesh. Bare flesh. Pale and hard, gleaming in
silvery blue light.
Her bed.
A breeze disturbed the curtains at the window,
causing them to play with the moonlight that streamed in, lighting blue eyes.
A familiar voice, not his, the tone huskier than was usual. Darker. Whose?
And… blood.
There was blood.
Buffy flung up an arm, but she didn’t wake.
Outside her window, smoke curled up into the
night sky.
~*~
“Did Willow stay out all night?” she asked
gently.
Buffy accepted a plate, dried it, and took
another before speaking again.
“You wanna talk?”
she asked quietly.
“Dawn said that she overheard you saying
something to Willow about her trying to make you forget – again.”
“
“She’s done it a c-couple of t-times,”
“Made you forget something?”
“I’m sorry,
“Don’t apologize for that, Buffy. You’ve had a
lot of things to work through since we brought you back.”
“And
“
Buffy was shocked. That didn’t sound like
“What are you arguing about?” Buffy asked
hesitantly. “You don’t have to tell me,” she added quickly. “If you don’t want to, or if it’s too personal.”
“She’s b-being reckless. W-With magic. Using
it too much.”
“In bad ways?” Buffy felt fear well up.
“That’s not it, exactly. She’s just using it
carelessly, to make things easier for herself. And that is bad.”
Buffy rubbed
“That would have been so wonderful. I w-wish
we could have done that for you and for Dawnie.”
“Some things aren’t meant to be, I guess,”
Buffy said softly, sadly.
“I asked her what she was doing last night.
She claimed she just wanted to help you. That it hurt to see you in pain, not
sleeping well, not being yourself. She thought if she could take that pain away
from you, make you forget about being –”
“I understand,” Buffy interrupted.
“No,” Buffy said softly. “That’s not what I
want.”
Buffy
straightened, standing a bit taller. “Do you think it’s time for an
intervention?” she asked. After all, she thought, why should the group only
hold interventions for her? And an
intervention would take the onus off of her and redistribute it onto everyone.
Where is should be. In
this case, there was nothing wrong with sharing responsibility. “You need to learn how to balance
everything, Slayer. What and when you can let go. Stop taking the whole
bleeding world onto your shoulders.”
“We have to make sure
Buffy felt the shock of the words runs through
her.
“She knew how I felt and that still didn’t
stop her from doing it a second time. And then this thing last night – with all
of us. Just a little mistake in the forgetting spell she was trying to cast on
you, she said. And I – I’m not sure if I believe her.”
“I’m so sorry,
The two women silently finished the dishes and
wiped down the counters and the stove.
“We’ll talk to Giles,” Buffy
tried to offer some reassurance. “Maybe there’s something we can do. ‘Cause
something isn’t right with Will, and I think she might need our help.”
~*~
“Do you
realize I was surrounded, completely surrounded by rabbits? Do you have any idea how traumatic that was? And it was
all because I didn’t know who I was or that magical intuition that wasn’t
vengeance related wasn’t exactly one of my strong points. What if that had been
you, and you’d been surrounded by frogs? Would it be so simple to dismiss then?
Just think about that!”
“Altering
memories is a gross invasion of privacy. What happened to us seems to have been
incidental, a factor in a great many of your spells. But what you did, or tried
to do to Buffy and
“I don’t
know a lot about what’s been happening since I – left. And I realize I’ve been
a little withdrawn lately. I have some problems I need to work through, and I’d
appreciate it if everyone would just give me a little time and space and let me
try to do that. You told
“Until I
spoke to the others I thought this might be just a one time mistake. But it
doesn’t sound that way to me anymore.
“My
first responsibility is to Dawn and to her safety and happiness. We came under
attack last night. It was good that Spike and I still had our fighting skills
or we all could have been killed when those vamps broke into the shop. That’s
dangerous, and we face enough dangerous situations. I don’t want you or anyone
pulling strings I don’t even know you’re tugging on. And Willow? I’m sorry to
say this, but if you can’t control this, you’ll have to move out, to find
another place to live.”
“ Giles and Anya thought they were engaged. What if they’d had sex, or,
er, something?”
“
Even Dawn had opened her mouth several times
to speak, but finally just shook her head and passed. Buffy squeezed her
sister’s hand.
Oh, it was all very civilized. And the actual
words coming out of their mouths were more kindly phrased. Not so accusatory.
They’d obviously practiced them. Had they rehearsed together?
And they kept assuring her that they loved
her, that they were worried about her.
Concerned.
Deeply concerned.
But it still came down to this: You messed up
big time,
It all still amounted to an ultimatum.
~*~
She’d been walking for a long time, completely
unaware of her surroundings. It wasn’t until someone appeared in front of her
that she seemed to come back to herself a little. Enough to realize that she
was not in the best part of town. She was too close to the docks, and noticing
them now, the dark warehouses lining the streets looked empty and foreboding.
Her eyes came up and met those of the man in
front of her. He wasn’t tall or broad. His face was scarred, his hair long and
unkempt. But she could feel the power radiating from him.
He caught it in one of his.
“No need for that, strawberry. I’m here to
help you.”
~*~
Author’s Notes
I feel like I’ve just written a ‘filler ep’.
With only a few exceptions, this chapter doesn’t do much but go over stuff we
already knew... But I thought the Buffy/Dawn bonding was too important to
reduce to a paragraph in a conversation between Spike and one of the sisters.
Upcoming chapters do more to move the story forward and establish relationships.
I promise.
The feedback I continue to get on this story
has been nothing short of amazing, and I’m incredibly grateful. To know that
people are enjoying the story means a lot to me. I’ve been trying to catch up
on some e-mail, but I’m so far behind now, it may never happen. If you’ve not
heard back from me, please don’t think that that somehow implies your note
wasn’t read or appreciated. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Mary