Chapter 2 - Is There A Crumb In Crumbling?
The day of the funeral was a bright sunny autumn day. The air was fresh and slightly cool and smelt of mold and earth. The service had been private and short and Buffy was sitting in the front row, holding on to Dawn's hand, mostly drowning out any words that were spoken.
Her mother lay in a casket of gleaming wood that stood at the front of the little chapel. There were flowers, lots of flowers, many white. They were nice. A picture of her mother stood on the closed lid. She was smiling. She looked young. She didn't look dead at all.
Dawn was clenching her hand. She was crying. Buffy couldn't stop staring at the casket. Her mother was lying in there and it seemed so wrong. Having her lying in a closed box. It would be so cramped in there, and so dark. They would bury it in the ground. With her mother in it. It sounded horrible. Like a nightmare. Not being able to move, or to breathe. But then she remembered that her mother wasn't breathing anymore, that she would not move ever again.
People were getting up and Buffy was startled out of her thoughts. The service was over and the mourners were moving. Buffy got up to, unsure what was expected of her now. The pallbearers were picking up the coffin and Giles came up next to her. She was relieved to see him. Giles would know what was expected of her now.
Giles laid a hand on her shoulder and took hold of Dawn's free hand, squeezing it.
"Let's go." he said quietly as the pallbearers passed them with the casket and he guided her and Dawn along behind them.
They followed the casket down the aisle through all the people wearing black with sorrowful faces. They all looked foreign to her, even Willow and Xander. Like they were strangers simply with faces she knew.
They went out of the chapel and into the graveyard under a brilliant blue sky, not a single cloud disturbing its infinity. It was strange. Everything looked so different in the sunlight. Restfield was a graveyard she frequented almost every night, and yet everything around her looked unfamiliar.
They arrived at the patch with the freshly dug grave. A deep hole in the grass, the fresh earth in a pile beside it. The mourners enclosed the grave on three sides and the casket was lowered in it. Buffy had the sudden urge to stop them. This would be her last chance to see her mother. But the casket was already half down and she thought it would probably be difficult to get it out again and then it would hold up the whole thing and everybody would think it strange. And then, while she was still debating with herself, the pallbearers stepped back from the grave, having lowered the coffin to the ground.
It was too late. The priest was stepping up and saying words that she had heard before, in movies and such. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." But she was not ready yet. Why were they all in such a hurry? Why couldn't they just wait a second?
She felt Giles' hand on her shoulder again and looked up to see all eyes on her. Obviously they were expecting her to do something. Dawn looked at her with tear-stained eyes. But she didn't know. She didn't know what they wanted. Giles gently pushed her to the edge of the grave where a shovel was sticking in the pile of earth.
She knew what it was about now. She had seen this too. She picked the shovel up with slightly shaking hands. Most of the soil had already fallen when she waved it over the open grave. She felt clumsy. Giles took the shovel from her hand and she was thankful that she was able to step back and that the attention moved to someone else.
People came up and trickled earth into the grave, then coming to her and Dawn, shaking her hand and telling them how sorry they were for their loss. Dawn was still crying, so people seemed more comfortable to concentrate on her. A lot of these people she didn't even know, but she tried to smile and at least give them a thankful nod. It was a relief when they were finally all gone and she was standing at the grave alone.
Willow came up behind her, asking her if she wanted to come with them. They were ready to go and would take Dawn with them to their dorm, like they had agreed to the night before. Buffy just shook her head. She really just wanted them all to go. They all seemed to expect her to say something or do something and she felt too tired to act her part. Everybody seemed to wait for her to lead the way, make the decisions, like she always did. Ready to fall in line, to be helpful, as long as she would hand out their tasks. But she didn't know! She didn't know what should be done now. This was what Mom did. She took care of those things. Buffy didn't even have a clue what 'those things' were.
Two of the cemetery caretaker came to the grave and started to fill it up with the soil as Buffy stood there and saw the casket slowly vanish. When they were done, they nodded respectfully in her direction and left, leaving her alone at the dark patch of turned earth under which her mother would lay buried from now on.
The place was kind of peaceful. There was birdsong and a light breeze rustling the leaves of the old oaks that towered a little to her left. The light started to get that golden-orange tint of evening and if she could just stay here and not think, maybe she would be alright.
***
Spike was sitting in the open door to his crypt, leaning against the frame with his knees bent. Absent-mindedly dragging on his fag, he watched the shadows getting longer. The entrance facing east had been one of the crypts selling points. Or rather one of its squatting points, if you wanted to be meticulous.
He was waiting. And he was thinking. It was Joyce's funeral today and thankfully it was a bright and cloudless day. It gave him the excuse he needed - if only to himself – to not go. He was so tired of their contemptuous looks and hateful insults. Of the helpless rage it awoke in him, for which he had no outlet besides some brute demon kill which only helped to dampen it.
But he would have gone. If the sky had been downcast and grey and it would have been safe to go without losing his dignity under a smoking blanket. He would have gone and paid his respect to a woman he had liked and that had liked him - even if none of the Scoobies would ever believe that. He would have ignored them and bit his tongue and stick it bloody well out! But he couldn't. Which was really too bad. That's why he waited.
***
She had not shed a tear yet. She had tried even. Last night when she was lying in her bed staring at the ceiling, she had tried. She felt horrible because she wouldn't cry. Her mother was dead and she did not even cry. How could that be? What kind of person did not cry when her mother died?
It was getting chilly. The sun had sunken behind the trees and dusk approached. But the prospect of going home to the house, her mother's house, and find it deserted held no appeal.
She felt a vampire approach, but didn't reach for her stake. She knew who this was, could tell him apart, although she tried not to wonder about that in any way. She felt his presence linger, somewhere in the shadows, invisible, but he didn't appear.
“You can come out. I know you’re there, you know.” She finally called out. And a moment later Spike shuffled over slowly, his head bowed.
“I didn’t want to disturb you. I was going to wait till you were gone.”
“Why are you here anyway?” she asked, fixating the grave in front of her.
He gave a small bitter laugh, looking away from her. “Yeah, why would I? Guess you’re right, no reason and no right.” He shook his head at himself. “I’ll leave you to–“
“You brought her flowers.” Buffy blurted out, still not looking at him. But he could hear the strain in her voice now. Hell, he could almost smell the tears. Almost, none was shed. He didn't know what to say really. How did she even know about the flowers? “I didn’t want-“ he began but she interrupted him.
“They were pretty. She always liked daisies.” She said in a small voice.
“I know.” Spike said.
They stood frozen in silence together for a while, Spike still half turned to go but watching her out of the corner of his eye, while Buffy stared at the freshly turned earth in front of her.
Finally, Spike swallowed back the knot in his throat and turned back to her. “Listen, Slayer…” he began hesitantly, “I know you don’t want me around… and I respect that… I mean, this is private. I just… I really… I liked Joyce and I just wanted to pay her my last respects. Didn’t want to intrude or anything…”
There was still no reaction from Buffy and Spike ducked his head even deeper. “Well, yeah… I’ll just go then.”
He had not made more than three steps away from the grave when he heard her voice in a tiny, almost inaudible whisper.
“Please, don’t.”
He stopped in his tracks, staring at the space ahead of him in bewilderment. Then he took a deep breath and turned around. “Is there something I can do?” he asked.
Buffy remembered another time not so long ago, when he had asked her the same thing, finding her crying on her porch steps. She had been afraid that her mother was ill then. A wave of nausea passed through her as she understood how legitimate that fear had been, that she should have known then that she would stand at her mother's grave a few months later.
Spike had held a shotgun then, and she still wondered if he had actually planned to use it on her that night. She remembered being quite mean to him earlier that same night, still he had sat next to her on the steps trying to comfort her. It was strange how much his clumsiness had been so.
He obviously wasn’t in his element tonight either. He stood a few steps away, hands buried in his coat pockets as he looked at her tentatively, unsure what to do.
“Could you just... stay here?“ She didn't know why she asked. She couldn't even stand being around her closest friends, and this was Spike. Whom she loathed really. But at least Spike didn't expect anything from her – well, apart from admitting she had feelings for him, which of course was ridiculous... but he didn't look at her for directions, didn't expect her to march in front, having all the answers... while she didn't have a fucking clue!
And her Mom... well she always seemed to have this soft spot for him. She didn't know why, but she had. She hesitated. Then she looked at him for the first time. "Would you...you know, tell me about her?” Buffy asked softly.
Spike tilted his head to the side and watched her a moment as if searching for something. His voice was soft when he spoke. “She was your mother, Buffy. You knew her better than anyone. She loved you with all her heart and I know you did too. I was just someone who liked her hot chocolate and a spot of conversation.”
“You visited her? When I wasn’t there?”
He ducked his head, unsure of her reaction. “Just now and then… you know, when I was bored. Or when my TV was broke we’d watch Passions together. She liked to talk about it, you know, always had these theories.”
“You liked her.”
He smiled at her sadly. “Yeah, pet. I did.”
“And she liked you...” Spike might have been offended by her surprised tone, but he let it pass.
“Don’t know. Might just have been lonely sometimes. Not many friends in Sunny D.”
“I wasn’t there. I should have been home more often. Always being preoccupied with the slaying and world saving, I wasn’t a good daughter.”
“Bollocks! You grew up, went to college, it’s what kids do. She was proud of you.”
“She was?“ Buffy asked in a small voice. "She told you that?”
“Always reminded me that you could kick my ass.”
“Better not forget that.” She smiled at him wryly then. It was her first smile since that dreadful day, although she wasn't aware of that.
They stood there in silence for a while, until Buffy sank to the ground, starting to feel the exhaustion of the day.
“You alright, Slayer?” Spike asked coming up next to her.
“Maybe you should... you know... go home, get some sleep...”
“I can't.”
“Why's that?”
She sighed and buried her face in her hands. God, she was so tired.
“I don't know what to do there.”
“Well, looking at you, crawling into bed sounds like a good start to me.”
“No, I mean afterwards. What do I do then?”
“You get up. Take it one day at a time.”
“I don't know how!” She cried, distress evident in her voice. “I don't know how to do these things! And Dawn is angry or crying, and my Dad didn't even call and everybody is looking at me, expecting me to pick up where Mom left off... and I JUST DON'T KNOW HOW!!” She yelled the last words slumping forwards, hands clawing at the earth and panting heavily.
Spike sank down beside her and without thinking about it reached out his hand, cautiously stroking down her back. “It's alright. You don't have to know all the answers right now. You'll find them along the way. You're strong Buffy...”
“NO! No, I'm not! Not like this!” Buffy wailed. “Mom was. She knew what to do, and I don't! And I can't do this without her! I need Mom!” She started to shake violently as something seemed to break inside her. “I can't! I can't! I need...oh god, please Mommy!! Mommy, please, please... I can't... Mommy!!” And then the tears finally came, erupted in heartbroken sobs and shudders as she screamed her misery and fear and grief into the night.
Spike reached for her, not thinking about it. It was an instinct, really, that he should have lost a long time ago along with his soul, to reach for someone in pain and hold him. Buffy clawed at him and screamed, her words no longer comprehensible but the message could not have been clearer.
Finally her thrashing ceased and she slumped against him, shuddering and heaving with her sobs. He held her in his arms, eyes closed and almost not daring to breath. Her smell was intoxicating, even in her misery, but he stopped himself from pulling her nearer, letting her decide how close she would get.
He didn't know how long it took, how long they sat like this, but in the end her gasps became calmer, slower and she just lay still in his embrace, not moving. She might have even started to fall asleep when a harsh voice came out of the shadows.
“What the fucking hell do you think you're doing?”
TBC
[Reviews - 15]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 1739 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
Hi! Thank you all for your awesome reviews!! I'm sorry this took a while, but I followed the suggestion of the admins and went to find a beta. So not only have I to thank her for improving my work, but you all can thank her, because without her I wouldn't be able to give you this. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter End Notes:
Please take your time and feed the muse. Leave a review!