Her Song
By: MsBigBad
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Disclaimer: I do not own this show cause if I did it‘d be called Spike the Naked Vampire!!! The show belongs to FOX, Mutant Enemy, and Joss who I love/adore! Any quotes will be disclaimed in the text.
Rating: Shudder! Gasp! It’s only PG!
Ship: S/B Why write anything else?
Spoilers: Through “Chosen” Season 7.
Archiving: Unless you have prior permission please ask. I’d love for you to host my fic! I just like to know where it goes!
Warning: Character death(s)!! You may need a tissue, or several! Go get them now before you end up wiping snot all over the keyboard! Cause that’s just all kinds of yuckie!
Summary: Buffy decides she can’t face the upcoming battle so she commits suicide. Spike must decide if he’ll fight or just lay down and die with her. Does he have anything to unlive for? Gotta read to find out!
Note: This is A/U Let’s pretend that Buffy never had that conversation with the first. She came up with the *let’s make everyone who might be a slayer a slayer* idea herself! So when we get that short glimpse of Spuffyness in the basement for about 2 seconds before the big battle is when this fic starts.
Feedback: I love it! msbigbad@msn.com -- msbigbad17@yahoo.com -- or join my group at www.groups.yahoo.com/group/bigbadhavens. Or better yet visit my site at http://thebigbadhavens.tripod.com
Thanks: Lauren for being my muse/best friend/beta for 4 years now! Love ya! You’re the greatest! Heather for always making me laugh and remember some humor in my angst filled fics! Everyone who archives/reviews my fics! Special thanks to Spikes Fashiongrrl for all the praise! All my BigBadHavens members! I love you guys! To Isabelle for inspiring me to write fan fic! Joss and his crew! Thanks for everything! James Marsters because to put it like Whitney “ Ieieie will always love yououououo!” You’re my favorite obsession! And thank you! You my readers are what I live for!
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“The supreme happiness in life is the
conviction that we are loved”
--Victor Hugo
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He awoke with a start. God, he’d had the strangest dream! He hoped ha hadn’t said anything aloud. They were about to face a huge battle against the first, in which she’d named him a champion, and here he was worried about drowning in footwear! He shuddered. All those Birkenstocks gave him a wiggins!
He was cold. It was still dark for all he could tell. The house was silent.
‘They must’ve given up on D & D’ He thought.
Come to think of it, it was too quiet. And why was he cold? Buffy was practically lying on top of him. Her body should be warming him. Her heartbeat should be booming in his ears. Her breath should be tickling his skin. There was nothing. His stomach lurched and his mind raced. He raised his body up out of it’s frozen trance.
“Buffy?” He asked shaking her a little.
Her eyes remained closed tight as if in a deep sleep. He shook her again, more violently this time.
“Buffy! Slayer! Wake up!”
That’s when he noticed the note. It was on plain white paper. She’d written his name with curls and fancy letters in blue ink. He frantically opened the triple folded paper.
Spike,
This is such a hard thing to write, and I don’t have the courage to say it to your face. But there are some things you have to know.
1. None of this is your fault. This is what I want.
2. I trust you with everything dear to me.
3. I believe in you. You are a good man.
4. I love you. Always.
I’ve never been one for writing or reading either for that matter. When would I have the time? You may wonder why I’m doing this. The truth is I’m tired and I’m not needed anymore. As soon as Willow does the spell tomorrow all the potentials will be just as powerful as me. If not more powerful. Fresher. And I know that you’ll be a champion for me. You’ll do the right thing. I used to think that it was because of me. Because I changed you. But it’s not. You did it. Not me. Not the Initiative. Not the soul. Just you. I would ask you to protect Dawn, but I know you’ll do that anyway. You’ll even make sure all my friends are okay. Hell, you might even be civil to Xander! You once told me (Or sang to me rather) that I had to go on living so that one of was living. I’ve been the slayer for 8 years now. And boy have I lived! I’ve lived three lifetimes. Don’t let them bring me back this time. You’re the one who has to live now. I’ve been thinking about this since I’ve come back. I figured pills were the easiest way to go. A lot less painful than the other two times I’ve died.
I really do love you. You’re the one Spike. Just wanted you to know.
Love,
Buffy
P.S.-- I made a box for everyone, well not all the girls but I didn’t have that much time. You have one. They’re under my bed. Please make sure the others get them. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.
Her body lay limp in his arms as he tried to register what he’d just read.
She was gone.
Dead.
Her heart had stopped.
Her lungs had quit.
All that was left now was a body.
A shell.
His anguish was hushed by the pure shock of it all. He just sat there awhile, dumbfounded, clutching her to his chest. That’s how Willow found them. She’d come down to tell the sleepy heads to get up and she found him. And her friend, her best friend dead.
Spike got up off the cot and headed upstairs as Willow rushed over to Buffy. The wtch’s anguish soon brought the others to her. The house was full of mourning. It was sad and cold. Scarred and trapped.
Spike just climbed the stairs slowly, one at a time, mechanically. As he pushed the door open he could hear the Nibblet scream.
‘Must’ve just gotten down there.” He thought.
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“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength;
loving someone deeply gives you courage.”
-- Lao Tzu
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When he entered the room a thousand different smells took him over. Sadness, worry, guilt, happiness, laughter, even fear. All that she had ever felt was here tinged in vanilla and gardenia.
He bent down and lifted the comforter up off the bed. He retrieved 8 shoeboxes, and carefully carried them down the stairs. He grabbed his own, tucked it under his arm, and carried it to the living room leaving the others on the dining room table. He sat there on the couch waiting for the gang to come back upstairs so this fight could begin.
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The yellow light touched every corner of the school basement. That little charm Angel had forked over worked like just that, a charm. The Ubervamps were dust simultaneously. He could feel something inside him crawling, wanting to get out. His soul. He could feel it.
“Faith!” He called. “Get everyone out!”
She nodded.
“Alright, listen up everybody! We’re getting out of here. Follow me.” She instructed, leading them all out of harms way.
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“Maturity begins to grow when you can sense your
concern for others outweighing your concern for yourself.”
-- John Macnaughton
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It would be so easy to just let these feelings overtake him. To just give up. But he remembered her letter. Dying wasn’t being a champion. Not if you left people behind. Not if someone in this world needed you. He removed the amulet, took a moment to stare at what could be his release from all pain, and tossed it into the hellmouth. Then he ran. Bounded up the stairs. Raced through the ruins of the school. That’s when he saw Harris.
“Anya? Anya?”
“Xander, get out of here you stupid git!”
“ I have to find Anya!” He said desperately searching through the rubble.
“Get out! I’ll find her.” Spike offered.
“No!”
“Damn it boy! Just do what I tell you for once! Just trust me!”
It must have been something in his voice or maybe his look. Maybe he was just going crazy. But for some reason Xander believed him.
“Okay.”
Spike nodded and Xander fled. He could hear something, something very faint, but still something to be heard. A heartbeat.
The building tumbled down behind them. The bus was already in motion.
“He got her.” Xander whispered. “He got her! Stop the bus!” He wailed.
When they got back home everyone made a grad ol’ time of exploring they’re boxes. Of course they’d all spent the past two days in the hospital with Anya and the various potentials that had been injured, so he guessed the anticipation was killing them. And for some reason he was glad that it wasn’t literal.
He’d almost forgotten about the boxes. He took his off the coffee table and climbed the stairs again. When he got to her room he realized that someone had beaten him to there.
“Sorry, I…”
“No, Spike. Stay.” Dawn pleaded.
Apparently she hadn’t had the courage to lift the lid of her box either.
He finally sank down on the bed beside her.
“Wanna go together then?” He asked shaking the box at her.
“Yeah.” She sighed with pent up fear.
They lifted their lids together and were immediately saddened by what they found.
In Spike’s Box there was:
* A picture of Dawn, Joyce, and Buffy. On the back it read, “You’ll always be a part of my family.
* A locket. Well half of a locket. It was heart shaped and silver.
In Dawn’s box:
* Mr. Gordo with a note. “Take care of him.”
* 5 journals starting with the day she found out she was the slayer
“Loved that pig didn’t she?”
Dawn smiled ready with a witty comeback.
“Stop talkin’ about yourself Spike!”
She finally peered into his goodies to lock her eyes dead on the necklace.
“Musta knew how much I love accessories.” He joked.
“That was mom’s.”
“If you want it bit..” He started holding the locket out to her.
“No. I already have it.” She said pulling the other half of the necklace from inside her shirt. “When mom died we couldn’t decide who would get it, so we split it in half. Buffy never wore hers. She was afraid of getting it broken in a fight or something.
Somehow the pint sized’s tale had made the value of the jewelry go up. Like it needed to worn so it would mean something. He unlatched it and stuck it on.
They both looked like they’d been run over by a truck.
Downstairs the scoobs were sobbing over they’re gifts.
Giles: An unopened copy of the Slayer’s handbook.
Willow: Some old photo albums and the only books she possessed.
Xander: Her crossbow and a note telling him to take whatever he wanted out of the weapons chest.
Anya: Every Cosmo magazine she’d ever acquired.
Faith: Mr. Pointy
The other box belonged to Angel, and inside her claddagh ring.
Silent tears flowed from lonely eyes. The bed squeaked as they both moved closer together and hugged.
Everything would be alright. He knew it. He was needed here. He had to do right by her. Had to keep her memory alive even if she wasn’t.
In his mind he heard her song.
“You’ll get along. The pain that you feel you only can heal by living.”
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“Where there is love there is life.”
-- Mohandas Gandhi
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~*The End*~
Author's Chapter Notes:
This is A/U Let’s pretend that Buffy never had that conversation with the first. She came up with the *let’s make everyone who might be a slayer a slayer* idea herself! So when we get that short glimpse of Spuffyness in the basement for about 2 seconds before the big battle is when this fic starts.