Buffy felt terrible.
Not the way she felt like most of the time these days, but even more awful than usual.
Tears were forming in her green eyes, as she lay on her bed, curled up like a kitten, holding her own legs.
Not only did she got sucked into some freaky dimension today and refused some incredible new powers; she had also been horrible to all her friends, the potentials, and Spike.
This last thing was something she just couldn’t let go of.
Her friends would be fine, she knew that.
She had threatened them even worse in the past, and they were familiar with little outbursts. And the potentials…Well, she just really didn’t find the time to care that much, since they weren’t that keen on her anyway.
But Spike, God. The things she had said to him. It pained her more then she could have ever imagined.
At that moment, in that room, it had been almost like old times: She, hating herself for what had happened; and he: Being an easy target for her to fire at.
But it hadn’t helped her calm down, oh no. It had only made things worse.
He had listened to her and understood her when nobody had. He had loved her, watched her back (literally), and risked his life for a soul. A soul, for god sake!
He had suffered for her, and done anything against…., the vampire law or whatever they called it in the vampire world. Ok, he had done his share of wickedness, but he had changed into this “good” hearted person for her, and for love.
She had said it herself, only a few weeks ago before The First came along and had held him hostage for days. And now she, Buffy Anne Summers, had spit on all of his good deeds in front of everybody, and humiliated him.
She had even told him she wanted the old Spike back. A fresh tear rolled over her check and ended up in the corner of her mouth; salt.
That was just plain horrible. It wasn’t even true, but she did know why she had said it. She had said it because she did miss one thing about the old Spike: He had told her he loved her; all the time, even though she did not wanted to hear it from him, back then.
The new Spike hadn’t said anything like that since he had been back.
And however she had acted like his confessions had bothered her at the time; it had been one of the few things in her life she had been sure of.
Right now she wasn’t sure of anything.
Not of Spike’s feelings for her, and her feelings for Spike. And that had frustrated her even more. Something had changed between then, but she had trouble figuring out what exactly.
Her clock radio told her it was 3.26 in the morning and her tossing, turning and brooding hadn’t really helped her feeling sleepy. She knew some things had to be settled before she could finally rest. She didn’t know what those things were exactly, but she did know it had everything to do with Spike.
He was probably feeling just as miserable as she was, and that thought alone killed her.
She had to tell him that what she had said wasn’t true, that she…..loved him for getting his soul and trying to be a better man. For being there for her.
But there was that word again: Love. God, how she loathed that word. She just didn’t know when or how to feel it. And everybody though they had the right to tell her who to love and who not. Because right was right, and wrong was wrong.
It was never that easy, never that black and white. She sure knew that. Love was never easy, but seemed extra difficult for a Slayer. ‘Or perhaps only extra difficult for me.’ She thought a little depressed.
She finally sat up, pulled her covers away and rested her bare feet on the cold floor.
She had to go see him.
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“Spike? I know you are awake.”
“Oh bloody hell woman. Can’t a man rest in peace without getting disturbed by potential slayers, slayer groupies, or worse; A slayer?”
Ouch, He was definitely pissed.
“Spike, we need to talk.”
“We are not involved anymore, so you don’t have to break up with me again: So you can feel better about yourself . I’m just here to help, so if this is not about demon issues you need me to help you with, you better go.”
“Will you please just turn around and look at me; I want to talk to you.”
Spike had been facing the wall the entire time. He wasn’t planning on showing her the pain he was feeling since her sharp words that afternoon, but wasn’t convinced he was able to do so if he had to look her in the face.
If she wanted the old Spike back: The one how killed demons, like he had done that evening, the serial killer in prison and the person who wasn’t true to anyone but himself, then she would get him. That was what she had asked for, and that was what he was given her.
Spike had been thinking just that, over and over. Deep down his un-dead heart was bleeding, but after all of this he could never show her that, because she needed him strong. She would think even less of him. No, he was going to play it cool, and show her the old Spike was still there, even though he knew he was lying to himself.
But then, he had felt her presence. She had come down the stairs of the basement so quietly he could barely hear her. But he had known she had been there, he always knew. She had stood there for about five minutes before she had spoken, not making a sound.
And he had just been lying there, facing the wall, and pretending she wasn’t there, although he knew she knew. He had given her some smartass remarks, not knowing what she really wanted from him. But the pleading in her soft voice made him turn around, and look at her.
Christ, she had been crying. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she looked so broken. His whole plan of being cruel and soulless like he once had been disappeared at once.
“Buffy, you have been crying?”
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