-Insert standard junk here...disclaimer, blah...whatever.
-This is from the last episode on or so, but no real obvious spoilers in this chapter. Feel free to e-mail me :)

Surreal
by Atalanta71
>> send feedback << - >> author profile <<

It was tiring. It's demonic strength had stunned her, but had given Spike time to drive a long knife through its thick scaly skin into its soft organs underneath. Even that hadn't really slowed it down, but it would soon - green goo was flowing from the deep lesion in its back. Dawn was backed against a wall, the demon between her and escape.

When it set its eyes on her, Buffy pushed herself to her feet, fighting back the dizzying pain in the back of her head. She dashed between them, vowing silently to die before her sister received even a scratch. Spike saw her move and intuitively moved in to attack in distraction. He began hitting the demon with all the force he could summon. It worked.

The demon turned its dying rage on Spike, battering the vampire with its massive hands and claws, tossing him around like a measly human. Buffy hesitated just for a microsecond at the sight of him being thrashed like that but she knew why he was letting it happen. To save Dawn. She grabbed her sister and ran from the building, stopping only when she ran into Xander and the Scoobies outside, just on their way to help. She shoved her sister toward them and, turning on her heel, was back inside. She wasn't thinking, she just did - she saw Spike lying limp against the floor, barely able to bring up a hand, but he did and gestured for her to stop.

"No! He's still too strong!" He managed to yell, and glanced up to see the demon bringing back a huge claw and aim at his soft throat. Without a thought, she grabbed a long, jagged sliver of metal and leaped onto it's back, using all of her Slayer strength to drive the sliver deep into its neck.

He watched through half closed eyes, blurry with blood, but could see her lithe form move in graceful succession from grabbing something from the floor, turning, and leaping from her coiled legs onto the demon's broad back and driving into the demon's neck with all the strength she had. Even in this moment, time slowed, he registered the look on her face. The demon had it's long arm back in preparation of his decapitation, and her face was all that he saw. Even through his half-closed eyes he saw it. It was a look of utter terror. He felt peace. Then all of a sudden he was back again, and the demon was lying in front of him...and to the side of him. She had killed him, but in a last act of violence, it had thrown her against the far wall. He tried to look at her, but found her couldn't focus his eyes very well. He knew she wasn't moving.

"Buffy." He croaked. His chest felt heavy, almost smothering. He tried to wet his lips but felt a sharp twinge of pain strike through his jaw. Damn. He wasn't in good shape. From his half-dazed state of mind he figured that demon had probably broken most of the bones in his body. "Buffy!" He managed again. He heard her stir through one ear. "Are you alright?" He heard her shuffle slowly towards him, her breathing was irregular, he noted. He thought he heard her breathe out in amusement. "I'm afraid I don't see the humor in this situation, luv." He murmured hoarsely. He focused in on her face as she knelt in front of his battered, broken body. She just looked at him, staring, with a look of disbelief and something else. Then the humor dawned on him. He was just inches away from death and yet he was still worried about her state of health.

"Come on, let's get you out of here." She whispered. "Do you think you can walk?" She touched his arm so gently. Even with the dizzying pain he was in, he noticed the feeling in the touch.

"I'm afraid not, love." He took a hoarse breath and felt a pain in his chest. He grimaced. Punctured lung he supposed. "I don't got a leg to stand on." He managed to form his face into a small grin. "Looks like you're gonna have to carry me this time, pet."

*******

"Over here." Buffy said, nodding her head in the direction of the living room couch. The huddle of Scoobies shuffled in unison toward the long burgundy couch. She glanced down at Spike to see his eyes closed. He had passed out from the pain when they had moved him to the car, and hadn't woken up. She cradled his head and shoulders carefully, noting that his shoulders were out of place and his arms were broken in several places. They laid him down and set to work arranging him to heal. She was on autopilot as she moved his shoulders back into place and moved around trying to make him appear more comfortable. What to do next. She decided to get him a blanket, if for no other reason than to feel like she was helping him. She rushed around, gathering pillows, glasses of water, searching through the fridge for pints of blood, pulling at her hair for the next thing to do. Xander and Willow followed her into the kitchen and watched in dismay.

"Uh...Buffy?" Willow stammered. They watched her toss pots and pans out the cupboard looking for something.

“Buff." Xander tried. She pulled out a pan and tossed it on the stove. "Buffy - what are you doing?" She glanced at him as she tore through the fridge.

"Spicy buffalo wings." She ripped open a package of chicken then stared at it blankly for a few moments. She looked at them then tore open the fridge and cupboards. "Where’s the sauce? I had it, where is it?" She was close to tears. "I can't even make spicy buffalo wings!" She murmured as she spread them out on the sheet.

"Hey Buf..." Xander moved to her and took her arm. "What's with the blanket and the chicken and the ...stuff...?” She looked up at him and let out a quiet sob. She leaned into his chest and cried softly.

Xander stared out into the living room at Buffy. She sat in a chair pulled close to the couch, her legs tucked under her, a hand smoothing a wet cloth over Spike's forehead. He opened his mouth to speak but found he had no words to express the ...whatever it was he was feeling. "What...the hell...was that??" He finally managed to push out.

"How did this happen? What did he do to her? How could she...." He couldn't say the word.

"Love him?" Anya inserted. "Well, he does have that ruggedly handsome look to him. And that accent." She smiled to herself. Xander was too worked up to be mad at that comment.

"You don't get to choose Xander." Tara said quietly. She couldn't help but glance at Willow.

"But I just...God!" He ran his hands through his hair. "How could anyone love that...that… thing??"

"He loves her." Tara piped.

"No, he doesn't! How could he? He's just a...thing!" Xander shot back.

"He does. He nearly died in there for her. How many times has he...he...nearly died for her? He loves her. Even when she hated him, and treated him…like dirt, he still loved her." Willow stared out the window as Tara talked. Her eyes welled up, but she couldn't speak.

"How could we not know?" He stared at her through the door.

"We didn't want to know." The witch answered. "And how could she tell us?"

*******

She wedged her hand between her knees and wiped at his brow. She didn't know what else to do. Somewhere she knew what was going on - she could hear them in the kitchen, and she knew that she was acting ... crazy, but she simply couldn't stop herself. It was like someone else was in control of her body, and she was just a puppet. She felt a sort of relief, in their knowing, whether she regretted it or not. It was done: they knew. There was nothing she could do about that now, but she still felt a knot in her stomach forming at the thought of the conversations that would soon follow. She already knew what they would say. She didn’t have any idea of how she would respond. There was nothing she could say to explain what was happening. She could see, out of the corner of her eye how Xander was looking at her, with disgust and disbelief, but right now, in this moment, there were more important things to take care of: Spike stirred. She dropped onto her knees beside the couch and looked into his face. His eyes were nearly swelled shut, bruises already formed around them, but they opened enough that he could probably see her.

"Do you want anything?" She picked up a glass of water and his mug of blood. "I tried to make those spicy wings you like..." She felt her eyes welling up and cursed herself for it. "But I can’t find the sauce." She sat back on her heels and huffed in child-like frustration. "I can't even make wings for you."

*******

Spike tried to laugh, but coughed instead. The pain in his chest was still there but it felt a little better: he could breathe without much pain. He managed to move his hand off the side of the couch to touch her face. "No need for the waterworks, love. I wasn't in the mood for wings anyway. Some Buffy will do me just fine." She half smiled and wiped at her face. He decided to throw her a bone. "I would love a drink tho, pet." She moved him ever so gently, settling him back against her, resting his head against her shoulder so she could help him drink. Somewhere in his head he had a pile of remarks to unleash on her, from suggestive comments about their closeness to the significance of this and that, but he decided he was enjoying this treatment far too much to put it in jeopardy. Last time he'd opened his big mouth she'd subjected him to over a week of torture: not so much as one visit. Although he supposed he'd deserved it. He was pushing her, he knew it, but he was tired of being used. If even she would go so far as to admit she might have some kind, any kind, of feelings for him. He wanted them to be together. He wanted to wake up beside her, cuddle with her, shower with her, make her and the Nibblet breakfast in the morning and fall asleep with her wrapped in his arms. He knew she felt something for him, I hope, but the look on her face had confirmed it. And if nothing else, he could survive on that look and knowledge for the rest of his undead life. He saw her, through his half-open eyes, reach for a cloth on the table and begin to delicately clean the wounds on his face.

"Where's the Nibblet? She alright?"

"She's fine. She went to bed." She said softly. Almost awkwardly she added a characteristic Buffy remark: "The whole near-death by psycho-demon thing tires her out." He managed a small grin with his broken face.

"What about you?"

"Well, it doesn't thrill me either." She gave him a Buffy look.

"No, love. How are you?" He gave her a quick look up and down. "He gave you a good knock on the noggin there." She smiled and he felt it in his chest.

"Oh, I'm fine. Hard head, you know." Her eye caught his for just a moment.

"Right.” They sat silently for a few moments.

“It’s going to be morning soon.” She said, glancing out the window at the lightening sky, frowning. “We’re going to have to move you.”

“Where?”

“My room, I guess. I can put blankets over the windows.” He wanted to make a suggestive comment about her keeping him company, but held back. He could see how rattled she was. He wished he could just hold her tight and make everything better. He squeezed her hand.

“Everything will be alright, love.” He whispered. She sighed raggedly and turned to look at the group in the kitchen watching her quietly.

“I hope so.”

Buffy came slowly down the stairs, listening for her friends in the kitchen. She hesitated at the bottom step before taking a deep breath and marching into her kitchen to get another pint for Spike. It was a painful move for him, she guessed, he'd fallen back asleep as soon as they'd set him down, but he hadn't complained. Not so much as a comment about their roughness or incompetence. If she didn't know better, she would swear Spike had gotten his attitude knocked out of him along with...other things. They quieted awkwardly as she walked into the kitchen, but watched her expectantly as she took a pint out of the fridge. Suddenly, angered that no one was trying to knock some sense into her, she supposed, Xander spoke up.

"Ok Buff---so would you mind telling us what in the name of ZEUS is wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about?" The floor seemed to be falling away from beneath her feet as she walked toward the door. Her heart felt fluttery as she felt their eyes on her: this was the moment she'd been having nightmares about for months. Xander grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"Buffy."

"What, Xander?" He sighed and made a visible attempt to calm down.

"Just tell me you don't...love that...thing." His dark eyes searched hers with such a fierce hope and desperation she felt her stomach clench. She searched her mind for an answer, but drew a blank. Do I love Spike? No. How could I? He's Spike. She tried to deny herself thought of the moment, just a few hours ago, when he'd almost died. She knew it then, why didn't she now? Because of the look on Xander's face, that's why. She couldn't lose them. But I don't want to lose Spike either. Stupid Spike. Making things so complicated.

"Look, Buffy. We know things have been really umm...crazy and all since you came back...all the bills and everything else...it can make people do weird things..." Willow said quietly.

"No!" Tara stepped forward and spoke directly to Buffy. "It's not...it's ok if you feel something for Spike. You can't control what you feel. You just ...can't. If he...makes you happy, then that's what counts." She touched her arm and smiled. "If you're happy, then I'm happy."

"It's not ok!" Xander cried, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "What is wrong with everyone? Has everyone lost their minds? It's not just some guy from the wrong side of the tracks; this is Spike we're talking about. An evil, disgusting Vampire!" He said venomously.

"No! You're wrong!" Dawn screeched. No one had noticed her approach. "He's not evil! He's...he's good! He's always been there for me and Buffy, no matter what! Even after Buffy died, even when he could barely stand to think about it, he was there for me, trying to make me feel better! And after Buffy came back, even when you guys were too busy..." She quieted suddenly. "Even when we were too busy to see how ... much Buffy needed help, he was always there for her." She pointed a trembling finger at Xander. "Even when you were too busy with your life to see..."

*******

He stayed perfectly still. His preternatural sense of hearing could have heard them a mile away, but he was frozen by what their words. He found himself almost stung by the ferocity of Xander's words. He knew the boy wasn't his biggest fan, but somewhere he had hoped they could have some kind of friendship. He thought they did. But the venom in his words made it clear, that there was no change in his stance. He would hate Spike until the day he died. He only tolerated him under popular pressure. He was sure that given the chance and the anonymity, Xander would dust him in a heartbeat. And what Tara had said was expected. She'd known about them for a while, and seemed to accept it. She knows it, even if Buffy doesn't. But the most moving had been his little Nibblet. He could feel his chest expand, as if his heart had suddenly sprang to life. God, I love that little one. As long as I'm on the earth... He swore silently. Never had someone defended him like that. He's good. The words pierced him deep down inside his chest. He would be, if just for her.

*******

Xander stared at her, mouth half-open, silent. He simply had nothing to say to that. It was true. Like it or not, it was the truth. No matter what everyone else were doing, Anya and he planning their wedding, Willow struggling with her addiction, Tara and Dawn with school; Spike had always been there. Whether Buffy kicked him out and kicked him in, he was there, somewhere. Spike was the only one who had been there for her. Really been there for her, not wrapped up in his life...Buffy IS his life. He sat back abruptly onto a stool and stared, overwhelmed. They were all speechless. There was nothing they could say to that. They all knew it was true. Buffy stared at the floor.

"I...God, Buffy. I'm sorry. I didn't realize..." Xander started, finally. He stood and started toward the door. He paused and looked her in the eyes, his dark brown eyes glistening and pleading. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry I wasn't..." He sliced the air with his hand. "I'm sorry Buff. I just can't deal ..." His eyes darted to the ceiling. "With that..." He grabbed his keys from the counter and strode from the house, the door slamming shut behind him. Anya rushed out quickly after him, and the sound of squealing tires pierced through the house.

Buffy just stared. She felt her insides drain from her body along with all the self-control she had left. Breathing in a jagged, hoarse breath she let out a gut-racking sob and dropped onto her knees, burying her face in her hands. It's happening. It was straight out of her nightmares.

Dawn came first, dropping down softly behind her, almost angelically, her hair following just a few moments behind her. She wrapped her arms around her sister and moved with her as she sobbed. She had known, but still hoped for confirmation, that Dawn would understand. She loved Spike openly with every ounce of her little heart. Sometimes she thought Dawn had even tried to set them up together.

"Buffy..." Tara whispered next, swiping at the flood running down her face. She fell down beside her, holding her tightly and making comforting noises in her ear. It's ok; it's ok; he just needs time; it's ok, I'm here for you; Dawnie's here for you too. She was whispering.

Willow watched for a minute, trying to find some kind of order in her head. She vaguely wondered if this was really happening. It was so surreal: it was like everything had been turned on its head - what Xander had said, Tara...and Dawn. Dawn was right, she knew that much. Buffy was another victim of her magic addiction. She wanted to just disappear; right into nothing, or...maybe a black hole somewhere. She came back to reality and looked at her best friend. No. It was about Buffy now, finally. Even bringing her back, hadn't really been about Buffy, but their need for her to exist, to be there for them. She shoved all of her thoughts and feelings into the back of her red head and finished the circle of arms and bodies on the kitchen floor. Buffy somehow felt her through her numbed skin and let out a deep sob, clutching onto the three girls with all her might.

"I don't want to lose you..." She said hoarsely, finding her voice. Willow caught and turned it.

"You won't." She half smiled through her tears. "And you're holding us so tight we couldn't if we wanted to." Buffy stopped crying and looked up at her disbelievingly. A smile broke through her face and she laughed a little, but released them.

"Sorry." They sat silently for a few moments.

"So...do you? Do you really love Spike?" Willow whispered. Buffy's heart stopped.

*******

Spike closed his eyes and with his whole being, willed any god that might be listening that he might hear it...

*******

"I..." She cocked her head to the side and stared off into space. "Love him." She heard Dawn squeal with joy and somehow felt Tara smile. She came back and looked at Willow. "I think...it's just...I don't know...I didn't...I mean I don't want to lose you guys..." They all squeezed her hands to show their presence. "but back in that building...when I went back in, he was just lying there, just letting it..." She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Just letting it hit him like that...and he didn't want me to come closer because he didn't want me to get hurt...he just let it hit him...like it didn't matter what happened...as long as I was ok. And I just remember thinking: he's going to die. That's it. He would just not exist anymore. And I just couldn't imagine...I mean yeah, he can be such a total jerk sometimes...

"A major pain in the butt..." Willow murmured with a smile.

"But I just couldn't imagine him not existing...I don't want to imagine..." She looked down at the jumble of hands in her lap.

"It's ok." Tara said softly. Buffy smiled back weakly and sighed.

"Thanks." She said, and each of them nodded and squeezed her hands. She suddenly stopped and her face fell. "But Xander..."

"He just needs some time." Willow reassured her. "He just...you know...whole mortal enemies thing...he'll come around, Buff. I mean yeah, I guess it's gonna be a little bit weird and stuff...but it'll get better." Buffy looked up at her through big, tear-filled eyes.

"Really?"

"I promise."

Buffy held the warm mug at arms-length as she ascended the stairs. God. That’s so gross. You’d think by now I’d get used to the smell of blood. A whiff drifted her way. Nope. Definitely still gross. She felt practically jubillant. It really does feel like a weight off your shoulders. She smiled to herself, springing up the stairs. The image of Xander’s face flashed inside of her head, and the balloons under her feet rapidly deflated, sending her crashing back to earth. And her steaming mug of pig’s blood. Yum. As she waltzed into her darkened room, she got a strange feeling. It was too quiet. She eyed Spike’s form suspiciously, and the room, and decided maybe it was just her imagination. She set the mug on the bedside table and was about to leave and let him sleep when she caught him looking up at her.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Yeah…”

“What’s the matter?” She grinned a little. “Other than the obvious.”

“Nothing.” Something about his brevity alerted her. Spike was never not talky. She sat down on the edge of the bed to examine him, when she realized his eyes were glistening. I didn’t think Vampires cried. Wait… Dawn told me he cried when I…

“Spike?” She leaned in closer. “What...?”

“Nothing. I just…ah…started thinking about how close I was to losing Nibblet.” Good. She’ll buy that. She looked down at her hands.

“Oh. Yeah. I know what you mean.” He wished he could move enough to swipe at his traitor eyes. She seemed to sense what he was thinking and wiped at her own. Looking down at him again, she smiled. “Oh…here.” Taking a tissue from the nightstand, she held his cheek in one hand as she dabbed at his swollen, bruised eyes with the other. “There. How’s that?”

“Thanks, love.”

“I didn’t think Vampires cried.”

“Don’t. Well, not very often anyway. What about Slayers?” She smiled a little.

“Lately, a little more than way too much.” That made him smile a little. She stared at him for a few silent moments before sighing a little and looking toward the door. He felt his eyes get a little wetter. Argh. I don’t want her to see me like this. I’m such a git. The Big Bad getting all weepy over … but she really said it. Bloody hell.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you alone then.” She was about to leave when she hesitated and leaned in close. She touched his cheek softly with her fingers and gently pressed her lips to his forehead. Oh, God, Buffy. Her lips are so soft. His chest ached at the tenderness of the kiss. Just another minute. Just don’t…She looked into his eyes and saw.

“You…you didn’t really fall asleep did you?”

“Well…” He coughed and regained his ability to speak. “I don’t sleep very soundly, love. What with so many death wishes on me and all.” She looked at her hands and back at him.

“You weren’t…because of Dawn…”

“No.”

“How much did you hear.”

“Well, between Lil bit, and the witch, enough to die now with a smile.” He moved his hand to cover hers. “And you…” His voice cracked. “Enough to live forever.” As he watched, her eyes welled up and overflowed their banks, much to her embarassment. She wiped at them, and looked at him bashfully.

“Spike…”

“Yes, love?” He managed.

“Would you mind some company?”

“Never. Climb in pet. Try not to rock the boat tho, please and thanks.” She smiled and carefully crawled in beside him, curling up barely touching his side, resting her head beside his. She sighed and closed her eyes. He could swear she let out a whole person with that sigh.

-FIN-

[to return to the archive, close this window]