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Come Dance with me - epilogue


The series of disasters started as soon as they arrived in Sunnydale. Dreading Joyce and Dawn’s reaction to the unbreakable bond between Buffy and himself, Spike braced for the worst.

It hadn’t gone as badly as he had imagined but then, as soon as they’d got to Revello Drive, Joyce collapsed and was rushed to hospital. They were told that they couldn’t have saved her – even if they’d got to the hospital sooner. Buffy was devastated. Spike tried his best to comfort her, but he could feel her building a barrier between them and he couldn’t seem to find a way through. Despair flooded through him, it looked as though he was right – she didn’t feel the bond in the same way as him. Uncomfortable with Dawn’s grief, he wasn’t used to dealing with human emotions – well except fear and revulsion – he felt like a spare part, hanging around and getting in the way.

Then, a day or so later, Glory turned up and threatened Dawn – it had only been the presence of the witches that saved her. Spike seemed to be the only one who saw the young doctor turn into the hell-god, so he took it upon himself to find the git and kill him. And somehow, that was wrong too. He had killed a human. Even when the enchantment that had hidden the fact that the god shared the same body as Ben had dissipated, Buffy seemed to be further away – blocking him out.

He was desperate, how the hell was it going to go back to the way it was? She was going through the motions, but she seemed frozen somehow. He became morose and withdrawn, sitting outside on the porch for hours, chain-smoking. The rows with Xander didn’t help either, with Buffy shouting at both of them. Taking over Buffy’s patrols were the only thing that kept Spike going – taking his frustrations and rage out on the demons of Sunnydale.

Just as he thought that things couldn’t get any worse, the phone call came.

Buffy answered it and went so still that Spike knew it was more bad news. “What is it love?” He asked quietly.

“It…it’s Hilda.” She said, looking horrified.

“What about Hilda? What’s happened?” He looked back with terror-filled eyes.

“She, she’s been shot.”

He didn’t hear much after that. Just snatches of her side of the conversation…

“…..two weeks ago….”

“….in a coma……”

It was if he was in a hermetically sealed bubble, everything came through slightly distorted and muffled. He rubbed at his chest absently – the searing pain just another distraction. Then suddenly everything became crystal clear.
He leaped to his feet and ran to the front door. Just as he was about to open it, he was tackled from behind and Buffy was shouting at him.

“Spike! The sun’s up – you’ll burn – don’t be stupid”

“What? Get out of my way – you can’t stop me! I have to go to her.” Then Buffy’s small but powerful fist made contact with his chin and he knew no more.

…………………………………….

He woke with a groan and wondered which big bad had attacked him. Then suddenly, he remembered. He swung his legs down to the floor, vaguely aware that he was in Buffy’s bed, and started to get up.

Buffy, who had been anxiously waiting for him to wake up, sat forward in her chair and gently held him in place, explaining as best she could what had happened. “One of the witches found Giles’ business card in Hilda’s purse and rang him. She was shot in the chest by one of the bastards from the Watchers Council.”

“Was! Is she….?”

“No she’s still alive, but in a coma. Has been since she was taken to hospital.”

“I’ve got to go to her Buffy, she’s my friend – and I can count them on the fingers of….one finger.” His face crumpled and she saw tears rolling down his cheeks.

Putting out her hand she ran her fingers tenderly across his face and then some barrier around her heart that she hadn’t even been aware of, broke and she gasped clutching her chest, “Spike what’s going on?”

Then suddenly Buffy knew just what had happened, “I’m feeling what you’re feeling aren’t I? Oh my god! It hurts!” She flung her arms round him and they hugged one another, rocking backwards and forwards in their distress.

Now there was nothing stopping Spike’s emotions flooding through her, Buffy understood his need to go to his friend.

“We’ll both go.” She said, leaning her forehead against his, “I’m so sorry Spike, I’ve cut you off haven’t I?”

“No worries pet, you’ve had a lot to deal with, it’s OK.”

Then Buffy felt the full force of his love for her, she gasped and realised what she’d been missing out on. “Oh Spike, I love you so much.”

The look on his face was worth a thousand words. “Bloody hell.” He said weakly.

They began to hurriedly make plans to return to England. There was such a lot to organise, but they were determined to get back as soon as possible.

Buffy had just put the phone down after booking their flights, when it rang again.

“Would you answer it Spike, I’ve got to finish packing.”

He lifted the receiver.

“Spike?” The voice sounded familiar.

“Yeah, who’s that?” Then realisation crashed over him and he was suddenly sitting on the floor, not knowing how he’d got there. “Hilda? That you?”

“Yeah.” Her voice sounded weak. “I thought you ought to be the first to know, I just woke up.”

“Soddin’ lazy witch.” He laughed, tears streaming unnoticed down his face. “Bloody hell, you scared me to death – again.”

They spoke for a little while, Hilda giving him her telephone number and he promised to ring her the next day.

He leaned back against the wall, relief flooding through him. Perhaps it was a sign that everything would be ok from now on.

Who knows?


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A/N

OK, I listened to Kimmie & Cordykitten, who wanted an epilogue to this. I hope you think it rounds things off. Thanks again for all your feedback.

Marianne





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