Chapter 3
“So. Do ya still feel all Slayer-y? Still got super strength and all that? Cuz, it’d be kinda weird if you didn’t.” Dawn swirled the last bit of her waffle in the syrup before popping it into her mouth, looking up at Buffy expectantly.
Buffy frowned a little, thinking. “Well, not really had anything to test it on. I mean, I did manage to crawl out of my own grave, so I’d say that was kinda slayer-y. But I don’t remember getting that Slayer tingle around Spike. But then, he stopped firing that sort of response forever ago.” She laughed. “I guess the short answer would be ‘I don’t know’ Dawn.”
“Well. Not like it matters, anyway. You’re still my big sis and will probably still lord that over me. But speaking of Spike, Buffy, you would be so proud of him. I know. Vampire and all that, but he kept his promise. He’s been distant and withdrawn, not the fun-loving vamp we all know and don’t love, but he’s taken care of all of us.”
“Really? I find it weird and all kinds of wrong that I am saying this, but I knew he would. He...I don’t know..cares about the gang. Granted some more than others, I’m sure. He and Xander have never got along.”
“They do now. Really well.”
“Wow! Really?” Buffy shook her head wonderingly. “Never thought Xander would get over Jesse’s death and the vamp hate it spawned. But good to know he and Spike are getting along.”
“They live together, mostly. I mean, Spike keeps his crypt, even stays there a lot. But he also has a room at Xander’s place.”
“Whoa. Never thought I’d see that!” Buffy was understandably shocked. “What happened to Anya? Christ, I’ve been out of the loop! Course being dead and buried tends to put a damper on the social calendar, ya know?”
Dawn laughed at her sister’s observation. “True, I can only imagine. Anya? She left. Couldn’t take the deaths anymore. I mean, first mom, then you?” Confusion passed over Dawn’s face. “Kind of a strange thought, that an ex-vengeance demon would get all antsy over a little death. I mean, she caused so much pain and suffering as a demon. What makes this different?”
“She knew us, Dawn. We were just too close. It’s like I dealt death every night as the Slayer, but I couldn’t kill Angel just because I knew him so well. Spike either. Death is best delivered anonymously. It just isn’t as easy - if easy is ever the right word - when you know the people.” She pulled herself back to the previous topic.
“So. Spike is living with Xander now? Or at least stays with him on occasion? That is weird.”
“Not so much. They’re like buds now or something. He usually stays over on movie nights at Xander’s place. Or when patrol runs really late. A few weeks ago, Xander got hurt really bad. Huge gash on his leg, couldn’t walk or anything and Spike stayed to take care of him.. Called his work, arranged sick days and all that.” Dawn finished her breakfast and took her plate over to the sink to rinse it out.
“Buffy. I was telling the truth earlier. Spike kept his promise to you. He has taken really good care of me, almost too good. I haven’t had a date in months. But he also started watching out for the rest of us too.”
“I’m glad. Really. I think he needs to be needed. It is one of the things that let me trust him so much last year.”
“Oi! I just knew the two of you wouldn’t be able to keep your gobs shut about me.”
Both girls started around at the sound of Spike’s amusement. He stepped into the kitchen followed by a withdrawn and exhausted looking Xander who just flopped onto one of the stools by the island bar.
Dawn was the first to recover, as she was more used to having Spike in the house. “Yeah, Spike. You’re the irresistible topic of conversation. Sit down, and I’ll fix you guys something to eat.” She took in Xander pale disheveled face and comment, “You both look like you need it.” As she popped some more waffles into the toaster, she asked if they had discovered what happened.
Xander sighed, as though he really didn’t want to rehash the night’s events for an audience, so Spike answered her. “Yeah. Red did some serious blood magic, called on some pretty powerful underworld gods and resurrected your sister, without thought to the consequences. She was pretty out of it, almost dead when we found her, but she’ll be alright, or as alright as possible with what is after her now.”
Buffy perked up instinctually at the threat to one of her friends. “What do you mean?”
Xander decided not to let Spike tell the whole thing. “Will called on some serious darkness, Buffy. We got to her before it could take its toll, I guess. But it’s still after her. You should have seen her in the hospital. The room was all white, and completely lit, but there were shadows, which is kinda like calling the tide little ripples, that hovered in the corners. It was totally weird, Buff. They seemed to stretch into the room, pushing at the light.” He smiled a thanks at Dawn as she placed the plate of waffles and the bottle of syrup in front of him. He hadn’t thought he was hungry, but the sweet vanilla smell of them made his stomach growl and he realized it had been over 20 hours since he had eaten.
“Tara worked some counter ward or something to drive them off, but I wouldn’t put faith in the idea that they’re gone, Slayer.” Spike finished Xander’s explanation.
“Right. Gotchya. So, it’s back to work already huh?” Buffy asked.
“Guess so.” Spike nodded. “You know I’ll be here. Not happy with Red, not at all, but I’ll stick with her, keep her safe as houses.” Spike turned to leave, saying, “It’s late, so I’ll leave you all to your eats. Besides, I gotta eat too, and I drank the last of the blood that was here. So later.”
Xander stood up to stall him. “Hold on Spike! It’s still dark, and I have blood at the apartment. And I honestly don’t think I could make it by myself. Just too damn tired right now. Why don’t you do us both a favor and stay with me.” At Spike’s hesitating look toward Buffy, Xander threw down the gauntlet. “It’s human blood, got it from Willy’s special supply.”
“Right. Okay, then, pup. Finish up your meal and I’ll walk you home and eat then head home myself.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The walk back to Xander’s apartment was quiet. Each man lost in his own thoughts. What was left to do but think when dead friends came back to life at the hands of wounded and hunted ones.
Xander’s thoughts were churning around the fact that Buffy was back. And she didn’t seem too much worse for the trip, for lack of a better word. He knew Spike had actually spoken to her about where she had been, and Xander didn’t for a second believe that she had been in hell, but he wondered how she felt being back from the grave. Her hands had looked a mess. At least before Spike had tended to them.
He frowned. Should he feel guilty or bad that his friend whom he loved very much was not basking in heaven but was back with them here? It was just too mind boggling. He decided to keep it simple: Buffy was his friend. He loved her. She wasn’t dead. He was glad. And that settled it for him, lifting some of the weight that had settled on his shoulders throughout the course of the night. Relief was a staggering emotion coupled with exhaustion. He stumbled with the release of tension, nearly falling but for the hand that caught his arm and steadied him.
“Careful, pup. We’re almost there.” Spike held onto him until Xander nodded and stood under his own power again. “You alright?”
“Yeah. Just so tired, and relieved and the combination just floored me.”
“Relieved?” Spike snorted. “Gotta hand it to ya, pup, you’re about the weirdest git I know.”
“Well. It was weird feeling bad that my friend wasn’t dead, you know? So I had to work it out, reduce it to the simplistic. I love Buffy, my friend. She’s not dead, ergo, I’m happy.” Xander passed a smile in Spike’s direction. “Hence the relief. No more guilty tension leads to stumbling.”
Spike’s expression conveyed his understanding. “Ah. Gotchya.” He looked up at the sky, his forehead wrinkled in consternation. “Well, you scoobs do have to deal with some complicated messes, Xan. Guess reducing things to the lowest common denominator helps keep things in perspective.”
“Yeah, I guess. Speaking of simplicity, Spike. Thank you.”
“Not seeing the segue, mate.”
“Oh well it’s like this. You helped with the babysitting, though it actually turned into enjoying a night out. Then you tended to Buffy with, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, compassion and tenderness. Helping me find Willow was above and beyond the call of your vampire duties, not to mention carrying her to the hospital and now walking me home. The complicated thing to do would be to gush about how you didn’t have to, how you normally wouldn’t, but simple is honest and I prefer honesty, so I said thank you.” Xander yawned excessively. “And that was entirely too much talking for my tired tongue.”
“Good thing we’re here then, huh? Come on, pet, let’s get you up to bed.”
“Yeah, sleep sounds marvelous.” Spike watched as Xander’s eyes closed as he stood in front of his door. He smiled a little. God, the boy was so tired it was actually cute. He opened the door and steered the sleepwalking Xander through the apartment to his bedroom. Xander opened his eyes long enough to step out of his boots, pull off his t-shirt and jeans and fall into bed. Spike unfolded the light blanket at the foot of the bed and covered the sleeping boy. He was walking out of the bedroom when he heard Xander’s sleepy voice say, “Stay Spike. Sun up soon. Sleep here.”
“Yeah, pet, alright.” He watched as Xander fell deeper into sleep, then went into the kitchen to fix up his blood, lost again in the thoughts that tortured him on the walk back with Xander.
So. Slayer’s back, and Red’s lost all sense of reason. Slayer being back should be exactly what he wanted, so why did he feel so lost? Xander was right to reduce things to their simplest form and Spike had to agree with his syllogism. Happy when Buffy’s alive, Buffy’s not dead, ergo happy. The premises were true, and the conclusion follows logically. But somehow, socratic logic just can’t account for feelings. Spike was horrifically pissed off. She died saving all of them. She deserved her peace, and now the hubris of humans had pulled her out of that peace, and worse? Left her to crawl out of it by herself, through six feet of earth and roots.
So yeah. That was buggin him, and now he’d have to protect the one who had risen his ire, because again, like a stupid git, he had given his word. Promised. Something that even as an evil demon he took perverse pride in was his integrity about keeping promises. Usually they were the threatening, eviscerating kind, but a promise is a promise. And he’d be damned if he’d break one now after over 120 years.
But something else was bugging him too. And it centered around the dark haired man sleeping just down the hall. With Buffy back, Spike figured his feelings of love would have been just as strong, but no. Yeah, Xander was right, he did feel tenderness and compassion for the Slayer, but the previous burning intensity of his feeling was gone. Well, that wasn’t true either. The intensity was still there, just for someone else. Xander.
The sometimes stoic, most times garrulous boy had wormed his way into Spike’s good graces and feelings over the summer. And Spike found him truly interesting. He’d learned all sorts of interesting facts about Xander Harris. For one thing, Xander liked quiet. One would never guess - what with his constant yammering in social situations, but Xander preferred quiet at home. When he watched TV, the volume was soft, if he listened to music, it floated about the apartment as though carried in on a breeze from far away. Spike almost, even with his vampire hearing, had to really pay attention to hear it.
He knew that Xander only bought Barq’s root beer, but loved the Mug root beer commercials. Knew he preferred Cape Cod potato chips to Lay’s. He also knew that, despite growing up in chaos, both on the Hellmouth and in his own home, Xander preferred tidiness and order. The boy was a study in dichotomy, and the longer Spike allowed himself to be around him the more fascinated he grew with him.
Which brought him to his current dilemma. He could stay here, as Xander asked, and where exactly was he supposed to sleep? He got the impression that Xander didn’t mean in the room with him, but who knew? Or he could leave while Xander was still asleep, the boy never being the wiser.
Spike glanced at the clock on the wall. Nearly 5 am. Jesus. Couldn’t make it back to his crypt now anyway, so he might as well stay. He frowned at the cup he still held in his hand, half drunk and tepid now, close to clotting, so he dumped the rest of the blood down the drain, rinsed the cup and went to the couch to lie down.
He turned on the T.V and flicked through the channels, finding Springer on, and wasn’t that just bloody marvelous, and settled in to fall asleep watching the circus that was nighttime talk television. He was just about to shout at the toothless white trailer trash that her husband was an idiot and she was an idiot for staying with him, when he felt a presence behind the sofa. He turned to see Xander standing there, looking rumpled from sleep.
“Thought you were coming to bed?” Xander’s eyes weren’t even open, he was so tired.
“Umm, pet. You awake?”
The dark eyes opened slowly and focused quite clearly on him. “Yeah. Why else would I be in here? I don’t sleepwalk, fangless.”
“And that answers my next question. Ok, so you’re awake and know you’re talking to me. Right. Well, pet. I appreciate the offer of accommodation, but I really didn’t think you wanted me to sleep in your bed, ya know?”
Xander nodded and turned to go back to bed. “OK. I just didn’t want to be alone tonight. But you’re right. I’m grown, I can handle being alone. Even after a night like tonight.” He stepped through the bedroom door. “Good night again, Spike.” and almost had the door shut when Spike’s hand stopped it.
“Alright. I’ll stay in here. With you. But just for tonight, and you can have the covers. I’ll sleep on top.”
Xander’s sleepy smile whispered his gratitude. “Thanks.” Then he crawled underneath the covers, and patted the space next to him in the bed invitingly. Spike walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, lying down gingerly so as not to disturb Xander who had already fallen back asleep. He lay on top of the covers, tight as a bowstring, unwilling to relax and sleep. He looked over at Xander’s sleeping form and sighed. “Oh bugger.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning broke bright and early. Or at least Xander thought it was morning. A quick glance at his alarm clock revealed the time to be 3:45, and considering it was bright outside and he was pretty sure that he and Spike hadn’t left Buffy’s until after 3 am, Xander deduced that in fact he had slept more than half the day away. That was the first deduction. The second deduction was that he wasn’t alone.
He looked down at the arm that was draped over his waist, albeit on top of the covers. He followed the line of that arm all the way back, as far as his neck would allow so early in the morning. He had the distinct impression of a very hard body snuggled tightly up against his own, and wasn’t that an odd feeling. Used to waking up braced against Anya’s soft curves, the hardness now curved around his back was an interesting sensation. So was the leg that was trying, despite the barrier of a blanket, to ingratiate itself between Xander’s thighs. He felt, in spite of the body pressed against him, surprisingly cool.
Ohh, yeah. He smiled a little. That’s right. Spike had stayed over, and because Xander had been such a big baby about being alone, had actually deigned to sleep in the same bed. Well. It was nice not waking up alone, and he would have a serious discussion with himself about the lack of wiggins at the man in his bed wrapped around him like he was living heat - which honestly he was, all humans were - and Spike couldn’t get warm enough. His little smile grew into a grin and he grasped the hand that was settled over his stomach and lifted it so he could crawl out of bed and into the bathroom.
The small mewl of discontented protest that escaped Spike had Xander laughing quietly to himself. Then he watched as the vampire scooted, still unconscious, into Xander’s warm place in the bed. He shook his head in amused wonder and gathered his clothes for a shower.
Spike awoke slowly to the sound of singing and water falling. He thought for a moment that it was raining, but realized that Xander was awake and singing - oh lord, was that Sesame Street? And how did he know that anyway? -in the shower. Spike stretched languidly, soaking up the remaining heat of Xander’s side of the bed. He closed his eyes for a bit and waited for the memories of the previous night to come into focus. Oh yeah. He’d been prepared to sleep on the couch, but in walked more than half naked Xander asking him to come to bed. Well, how could a hedonist like himself deny such a heartfelt request? He couldn’t.
So he had lain there, stiff until he drifted off. Then, obviously from his current position, he had snuggled up against Xander for warmth. And now, lay in the boy’s residual warmth while he showered and ...probably used up all the hot water. Damn. Spike wanted a shower too, and was just about to shout for Xander to save him some hot water, when the boy stepped out of the bathroom.
Spike blinked. Several times. Christ on a stick, the boy was fabulous! All hard planes and angles, wet hair swept sleekly back on his head, his face flushed from the heat of the water. Spike followed the flush down the boys neck to his chest and finally to the edge of the towel slung loosely about his hips. If Spike had needed to breathe, straits would have been dire, as it was, he couldn’t speak for a few seconds. He finally cleared his throat.
Xander jumped almost three feet when he heard Spike. “Oh crap! Fangless, you just scared ten years off my life! And I could really use those years, living here ya know?! I thought you were still asleep.”
“I was. I woke up. You leave any hot water?” Oh thank god for him being unaware! Spike’s relief was deafening.
“Oh. Yeah. Help yourself. Towels are under the sink. You know you still have some clothes in the other room, right? I could wash what you’re wearing now, later if ya want.”
“Sure, thanks. Umm, think I’ll go get that shower.” He crawled out of bed, shedding his clothes as he went, thankful that Xander didn’t catch him ogling earlier. He stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.
Yowza! Spike had just walked across the room taking off clothes like it was nothing. And why didn’t I ever notice him before? Oh yeah. Cuz I did notice, just didn’t want to, so denied it. Great. Fabulous Harris! Well, I have an excuse. Oh yeah, Anya. Well, I was with her, so noticing was not a priority. Right. Shut up you. Xander looked at himself in the dresser mirror. You can just chill with that right now buster. I loved Anya. And if I noticed Spike while I was with her, well, it was better that I repressed it. Yeah. Repression is a good thing. Ok. Stop with the derogatory stares buddy. I’m in control here.
He turned abruptly from his mocking reflection and finished getting dressed. Remembering Spike’s other clothes, he picked up the discarded ones and went to fetch the clean ones. Yeah. Noticing was ok, repression was better. Xander would repress because he was fairly certain that Spike would so not be noticing him. Good. Settled. Just put these clothes in the bathroom and voila! Return to normalcy.
Spike was just stepping out of the hot shower when he heard the door creek open. He dove for the cabinet under the sink, regretting not getting the towel out before showering. He didn’t have time to get it all the way around him before Xander was inside the bathroom, clothes in hand.
“Hey Spike! I’ve got your- Oh. Scuse me!” He turned abruptly and stiff armed the clothes toward Spike, who just laughed after his initial shock.
“Thanks pet. ‘Preciate it.”
“Yeah, umm whatever. I’m gonna order food. See ya when ya get out.” He started to leave and before he pulled the door completely closed again, said, “Sorry Spike. For barging in.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Willow sat in bed, frustrated beyond measure. It was already past four and she was more than ready to be allowed to leave. Tara had gone home that morning to get some rest before coming to pick her up when she was released, so she was alone in the room. Luckily, it was still light outside, and the shadows that Spike and Xander had talked about weren’t around yet. But Willow could feel them now that she wasn’t spending all her energy recovering; she could feel the darkness creeping up on her. Tara’s wards had weakened considerably when she left, and Willow felt, for the first time in long time, very vulnerable. She wanted to leave, and she wanted to do it now.
She watched anxiously as the sun sank lower in the western sky, the red light lengthening shadows and revealing hidden textures in the trees outside the window, and on the sterile walls of the hospital room. When the huge red ball of fire finally sank below the horizon, leaving remnant light, Willow’s heart gave a lurch of true terror. If the doctors didn’t arrive soon, she would be forced to spend the night here again and that was unacceptable.
“Well. Ms. Rosenberg. How are you this evening?”
Willow turned sharply to the anonymous lab coated person. “Fine. Want to go home now, thanks very much.”
“Oh, I think that can be arranged. Your vitals seem to have stabilized and everything seems to be in working order. No evidence of concussion or internal injuries. And that is a good thing considering the condition you were in last night. So yeah. I think we can send you home right now. I’ll just send in the nurse with some aftercare instructions, and paperwork for you, and you can be at home within the hour.”
“Great. No offense to you, or the hospital doc, but I am ready to be out of here.”
He smiled indulgently. “I would imagine so. Do you have anyone to come get you?”
“Yeah. She has me.” Tara spoke up from behind the doctor, surprising him and Willow both.
“Oh baby! Thank goddess you’re here. I am so ready to leave.” She leaned forward to receive a kiss from her lover.
“I know. And believe me when I say that I’m ready to have you back home. Sleeping alone is horrible.”
Neither noticed the doctor’s smile or his unobtrusive exit.
“So I figured we could call Giles when we get home. You know, disturb his rest and remind him of why he loved Sunnydale so much?”
“God that sounds like a plan, baby. Thank Goddess I am going home.”
The nurse arrived with the aftercare instructions and the release forms for Willow to sign, and the two girls were back at the house before six. Tara looked up Giles’ speed dial number and made the call. While she was on the phone, Willow stood in the kitchen preparing two cups of tea. She startled when she turned around and found Buffy standing ghostly behind her.
“Goddess, Buffy. You look. Wow. You look amazing.” The worry in her voice irritated her, but she forged on. “I’m so glad to see you, you know. So glad it worked. And you look, again I have to say amazing.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Buffy turned solemn green eyes on her best friend of five years. “About that Will. I want to ask you something.”
“Sure Buffy, ask me anything. I’m just so glad you’re back. That I could get you away from that awful place.”
“Awful?” Buffy looked confused. Then nodded her understanding. “Oh right. The hell dimension I was in. Right. So anyway. Here’s the question. What possessed you to think that you could call on the forces you called on without consequence? What made you think you knew where or for that matter when I was? And who gave you the right to make decisions for my soul based on such stupidity as your feeling?” Buffy looked into Willow’s eyes. “Well, that’s actually three questions, but hey. Who’s counting?”
“Well, Buffy the world needed you and there was no one else willing to do it. I wasn’t going to stand by while you were tortured in some hell!”
“Again I ask, how do you know where I was? Did you scry for me? Did you do some spell to figure it out? Probably not. And don’t you think Giles would have been a better choice to bring me back? I mean, he is the professional, ya know. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just an over-eager amateur.”
“Giles left Buffy. He wasn’t here.”
“As well he should have. I. Was. Dead. Buried. Gone. Willow, he should have left. He was my watcher, without me, there wasn’t anything left for him to do here. Oh, well. I suppose now I see there was something for him to do here, namely make sure you didn’t do something stupid.”
Willow took a breath as though to defend her position. “No, Willow. Save it. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say right now. But here’s something for you to know.” Buffy smiled evilly. “I wasn’t in hell. I wasn’t tortured. What I felt was peace, calm, love, happiness like I’ve never felt it before. You ripped me out of that. You. Who are supposed to be my friend. You couldn’t handle me being gone, had no faith that I would be allowed to rest, so you took it upon yourself to make the world right for you. Well congratulations, Willow. I’m back. And this?” She looked around the room, and in an all encompassing gesture indicated the rest of the world. “This is now my hell.
“So thank you Willow. Thank you for bringing me back to resume duties I never really chose, only adapted to. Thanks for pulling me back into the harsh light that is survival. You’ll never know what it means to me.” Without a backwards glance, Buffy left the kitchen to go upstairs.
Willow stood stunned in the face of her friend’s revelations and anger. “Oh, no. No. I didn’t know.” She glanced furiously around the kitchen, and found Tara watching her from the doorway. “I didn’t mean...”
Tara glided into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around a stunned Willow. “I know baby. I know.” She hugged her, and made soft reassuring sounds low in her throat trying to get Willow to calm down. When she sensed that her lover had regained some measure of composure, Tara stepped back and faced her squarely. “You didn’t know, Willow. And that was the problem.”
Stunned, Willow could only blink for a second. “What? What do you mean?”
“You knew you were messing with dangerous forces, and for what, baby? A hunch? A feeling?” When she saw Willow begin to react defensively, she held up a hand. “Wait. Ask yourself, why didn’t you tell me you were going to do this? Why didn’t you ask me to help you? I would have, and you know that, if you had been able to convince me. I’ve thought about this all day. You didn’t tell me because you knew it was too dangerous for me. You didn’t tell me because you knew what you were doing was wrong.”
She took Willow back into her arms, hugging her as though trying to impress upon her the meaning of what she was saying. “You knew it was dangerous and wrong, and you did it anyway. Why? To see if you could? Because you were compelled? That is what blood magic does, Will. It seeps into you and steals you away until all that is left is the shell of what you once were and power. I don’t want to lose you, baby. Please try to understand. Please.”
Willow held on tightly to Tara, like a lifeline in the tidal wave that was her life. “I don’t want to lose you either, Tara. I feel like I just found you. Then Glory happened, and you were so lost to me and I know I just got you back. I can’t afford to lose you again. You’re the only thing in my life that keeps me whole. Don’t leave me. I’m so sorry.” Willow’s rasping sobs wracked her body and Tara’s heart.
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to, Will. You should try that with Buffy and with Xander. You really did hurt him last night you know.”
“I know. I will. I think it’s going to take some time, though. A long time.” She wiped her eyes hard with the balls of her hands, then looked up at Tara to ask about the conversation with Giles. “So how did it go with Giles?”
Tara laughed. “Good. Well, alright considering it was only four in the morning there and he was sound asleep. I didn’t tell him what happened exactly, just that you were in magic trouble and we needed him. He said he’ll be on the next available flight and should be here by Tuesday.”
“Ok. Good. Thank you.”
“Everything’s going to be alright Willow.”
“Not for a long time, Tara. Not for a long time.”
TBC