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Chapter 17 – It’s A Cold And It’s A Broken Hallelujah.

**********

“Riley, your body was not built for this kind of stress.”

“I can handle it,” He insisted. “This is my deal Buffy, just…back off.”

“What is this?” Buffy asked, clearly not understanding his refusal to see the one doctor who could help him. “What’s happening to you?”

“I go back. Let the government get whimsical with my innards again,” he began, “they could do anything they... Best case scenario, they turn me into Joe Normal. Just…just another guy.”

“And that’s not enough for you?”

“It’s not enough for you,” He replied, defeated.

“Why would you say that?” She asked. What had she done to give him that idea?

“Come on, your last boyfriend wasn’t exactly a civilian,” He pointed out.

“So, that’s what this is about?” She said, getting angrier by the second. “You’re going to *die*, over some macho pissing contest?”

“It’s not about him,” Riley shook his head, clearly conveying that he thought she still didn’t understand what he was saying. “It’s about us! You’re getting stronger every day… more powerful. I can’t touch you. Every day, you’re just a little further out of my reach.”

“You wanna touch me?” Buffy strode up to him. “I’m right here. I’m not the one running away,” she insisted.

“Not yet,” He assured her.

So *that* was it! “So you have this all figured out? I’m bailing because you’re not in the super-club?”

Riley spread his arms wide, as if he was giving a gesture of surrender. “It’s human nature.”

“Don’t Psych 101 me!” She demanded. “Not now. Not after everything that…Nobody has ever known me the way you do. Nobody. I’ve opened up to you in ways that I’ve never opened up to… God, you’re just sitting back there thinking that none of this means anything to me…”

“I never said that,” Riley interrupted. His face showed he meant that, but why wouldn’t he look at her?

"Because it *obviously* doesn’t mean anything to you! Do you think so little of me that…”

“Buffy…” Riley interjected.

“No!” She took change of the conversation again. “ No…Do you think that I spent the last year with you because you had super-powers? If that’s what I wanted, then I’d be dating Spike!” She paused to make sure he absorbed her words. “Riley, I need you.”

Riley finally gave her a full look. His expression asking, pleading, with her to tell him that she meant it.

“I need you with me,” She told him. “And I need you healthy. But if you want to throw it all away because you don’t trust me, then…” She considered her next words. “Then I am *still* gonna make you go to that doctor.” She finished, her eyes daring him to try and defy her any further.

Riley seemed to take measure of her for a moment. He weighed his options, running everything she’d said over again in his mind. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. “Take me to him,” he said as he once again looked at her. Their eyes met, and they seemed to communicate a silent understanding, though he still appeared a little defeated.

“We have to hurry,” Buffy said, moving past him toward the entrance. Riley grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

When he had her attention, he spoke quietly. “Loving you is the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

“I don’t know why,” She spoke, honestly. She caressed his chest just over his heart briefly. “The doctor said we didn’t have much time.”

Riley followed her out. As they made their way to the hospital, his insecurities kept screaming at him. Why hadn’t she said it? She’d said she needed him. He’d professed his love and she’d not responded in kind. It was petty, but it screamed at him anyway.

The ensuing rush to find the doctor Spike and Harmony had absconded with distracted him, but only for a small time. All too soon, his insecurities came rushing back, even stronger than before. No sooner had the doctor proclaimed him fixed, than she’d agreed that he was normal and proceeded to excuse herself to go check on her mother. She hadn’t even made sure he got home first. It was the beginning of the end for him, and he knew it.


**********

Yet another dream. Riley had been a prominent feature lately, but she usually treated him much better. And this time she’d felt every one of Riley’s volatile emotions, including his overwhelming resignation. So what was the lesson here? Was this what she would do to him; get him completely in over his head and then crush him, because even if she did need him, she didn’t love him the same way he loved her? Could she change this course before they were too far gone? Did she even want to try? Why was she with Riley anyway?

He was exceptionally kind. He had genuine feelings for her. He was sweet and caring and had absolutely no idea about her past. He had no preconceived notions about her. He couldn’t care less what anyone said about her. He wasn’t bad in bed. He gave an air of being a little old fashioned. He had a very boyish smile that reminded her of Angel…

Oh God, was that what pulled her to him? He was tall and broad. He had the smile, and was occasionally kind of goofy around her. He had a similar sense of humor, but didn’t seem to be as contemplative as Angel.

Buffy groaned internally. She was using Riley as a substitute Angel. He was totally the rebound guy who looked like the ex. No! Angel was not her ex. He was her first true love. He was her salvation. He was her protector, her lover, the father of her…

Michael. She hadn’t seen him in several weeks, and even then she hadn’t seen him well. She’d been way too far away to really *see* him. She’d just assured herself that he was ok, then taken off running when Spike had stormed inside with him.

She couldn’t go back to the Giles’ house. Her reasons for leaving hadn’t changed. She didn’t think peeking in through the window would work. If she knew Giles, he’d still be looking for her. But she wanted to see Michael. She didn’t want to hurt any of them anymore. She had caused everyone so much pain that they hasn’t deserved; it was something she’d excelled at. So she’d been strong and stayed away.

Except, she was still hurting people. And if she needed proof of that, all she had to do was look at her latest victim – Riley. No, she certainly couldn’t go back. But still, she wished there was a way she could see Michael? If she could just get a peek…

**********

Buffy had been curled up on the bed in a fetal position since he’d placed her there and curled himself around her. He’d been taken aback that she was living in this dump, but it was clean and he could see her little touches here and there that warmed the place up a bit. He’d got her to sleep some earlier, but now she was just staring at the wall, her brow occasionally wrinkled in thought. She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d awoken.

Spike glanced at his watch. It was getting late. He’d convinced Dawn to watch Michael tonight and that had been a hell of a feat. Even so, he couldn’t stay forever. But he also couldn’t leave until he was certain she’d be ok; and last time he’d checked, near-catatonia wasn’t anywhere close to ok. Neither Xander nor Willow knew that Buffy was back. Maybe that Tara girl that Buffy’d been talking to could help, stay with her a while, but he had no idea how to contact her.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Spike leaned up and sent a look over his shoulder, as if he could make whoever was knocking go away by sending them a look they couldn’t see. When the person knocked again, he gave a glance back to Buffy. She looked to be sleeping again. As the knock continued, Spike swore he was going to kill the uninvited visitor if they woke Buffy up. What the devil was so damn urgent anyway?

Spike carefully disengaged himself and stalked over to the door. He glanced through the peephole and gave a frustrated growl at seeing Riley on the other side. He quickly opened the door before the idiot had the chance to beat it off its hinges.

“To what do I owe this displeasure?” Spike asked, while trying to look as annoyed as possible.

“I need to talk to Buffy,” Riley insisted while trying to see around Spike, who held the door closed a little more.

“Keep your voice down you sod! She’s sleeping,” Spike scolded.

“I should kick your ass for that insult,” Riley coolly told him.

“Oh get over it. I toss that word in every other sentence,” Spike supplied.

“Bad boy act?”

“Who says it’s an act?”

“Thought so.”

“Don’t really care what you think,” Spike informed him.

“Is she… ” Riley paused in hesitation, “Is she ok?”

Spike looked hard at the man before him for a moment. He cared about Buffy, maybe more, the poor guy. He’d humor him a while. It would give him a chance for a smoke anyway.

“Not in here. Let me get my smokes,” Spike told him as he turned and grabbed his coat. He fished inside the inner pocket and pulled out his lighter and a cigarette. He folded the coat back up and put it back in the chair before heading outside, with Riley close behind. He leaned against the Desoto as he lit up, and took a much-needed pull. He relished its calming effect for a moment before blowing it out as he glanced up at the stars that were starting to punch through the evening sky. “Truth is…I don’t know.”

**********

It was now or never, Buffy thought as she slid off the bed. Keeping one ear open to the muffled voices just outside the door, she quickly unfolded Spike’s coat and dug into the pocket she knew he kept his wallet in. She opened the wallet and began fingering through its contents. Typical Spike… forty dollars, a driver's license, a driver's license with a much older birth date, a condom, ah yes… the pictures. There was one of her and Dawn, a very faded one of Spike’s mom, one of Spike’s family just after they’d moved next door to her, and four pictures of Michael.

**********

Riley seemed to consider Spike’s answer for a moment before asking, “You’re not going to tell me are you?”

“Not my story to tell,” Spike shrugged.

“Not sure I want to know anyway,” Riley mumbled.

“Not what I expected to hear from Psych-boy.”

“The past is done. It doesn’t matter to me,” Riley explained.

“It should. Probably would have kept your nose out of that plaster,” Spike pointed out. “It also would have been ringing warning bells in your head way before now.”

Riley sighed long and hard. “I heard them. I just figured I could…” He trailed off.

“Make it better?” Spike smiled, but didn’t look up. “Make her see that you love her? Make her love you back? Got news for you, someone beat you to the punch and you’ll never replace him.”

“Who *are* you?”

“The very pathetic idiot who keeps trying,” Spike replied sadly.

“You’re in love with her,” Riley accused.

“And you’re not?” Spike fixed Riley with a look that dared him to deny it.

Silence reigned for a moment. Not knowing what else there was to discuss, Spike snubbed out his cigarette and started to head back to Buffy’s room.

**********

The first three pictures looked to be sequential, about two months apart. The fourth one was the same as the third picture, and they were the most recent ones. Michael was grinning like a little imp, and she could only guess what the photographer had done to elicit the look. His hair looked darker in the picture, and held just a tiny bit of wave to it. His big chocolate eyes sparkled, and Buffy could well imagine that in a few years he would be more than a handful. He looked like he’d filled out very well, if not quite caught up to the other kids she’d seen around his age.

As her index finger caressed the picture, she could almost swear she could feel him again, and it brought a sad little smile to her face. She almost missed the sound of Spike’s hand on the doorknob. She quickly slid the picture into her pocket, folded Spike’s wallet back up and replaced it in his coat pocket, before sliding back onto the bed.

**********

“So, this guy, who is he?” Riley asked.

Spike froze, his hand on the doorknob. After a long moment, he answered over his shoulder.

“*Was*, mate. Was my brother. Died 'bout a year ago. Not sure she didn’t die with him,” Spike finished, pinning Riley with a hard look. He watched as Riley assimilated that information.
"I don’t believe that," He finally responded. "I mean, yeah, it always feels like there's something just below the surface that I can't quite reach; but, sometimes she's so…"
"Alive?" Spike finished. "Like she can't wait for the whole world to really start? 'Cause she knows that once it does, she can really start to *be* alive?" He trailed off. After a moment and a deep sigh, he finished, "Ah, hell, I have no idea what the hell I'm saying. Doesn't matter anymore, anyway. Not since Angel died."
"You don't believe that. You wouldn't be here if you did," Riley responded.
"Doesn't matter what I believe; it's what she believes," Spike said as he fixed Riley with a hard look.
Riley gave a little nod, then turned and walked away.

As Spike closed the door behind him, he quickly glanced over at Buffy. She was still resting where he’d left her. He picked up his coat and put his lighter back in the pocket. Hold on, what the…? He pulled his wallet out of the pocket, frowning at the pack of cigarettes smooshed underneath it. He gave a suspicious look over at Buffy, and he couldn’t help but smile. She’d almost gotten away with it. He thumbed through the wallet, noting smugly that one of the pictures was missing.

He tucked the wallet into its correct pocket, and then climbed back on the bed behind Buffy.

“You can keep it. That’s why I had it.” He didn’t think she was going to acknowledge him, but she finally turned her head toward him just a little.

“I… I just wanted to see him,” She whispered.

Spike nodded. “It’s almost Christmas. You should come see him.”

“No.”

“Buffy…”

“No! I can’t do anything but hurt him!” Buffy asserted as she quickly scrambled off the bed. Spike shot off his side of the bed and mimicked her stance.

“That’s crap and you know it! You *can* love; you can be happy!” Spike shouted as his anger got the best of him. He watched as Buffy’s expression hardened. She was right pissed off and it only made him even more angry.

“You want to know what I can do? I can kick your ass from here to Tuesday!” Buffy seethed as she stalked over to Spike.

“Mmm… love it when you play rough, baby,” Spike grinned rakishly.

“Get out!”

“Not going anywhere. I told you that!”

“Get out, before I *throw* you out!” Buffy ordered through tightly clenched teeth.

“You couldn’t make me leave if you tried,” Spike goaded her.

“I can make you do anything I want! All I have to do is pout my widdle wips and get all teawy eyed,” Buffy affected a very bad pout that clearly mocked him, and her eyes took on a dangerous glint.

“You bitch! Spike growled out. "You know what? Fuck you! You want me gone? Fine! I’m tired of playing by your rules anyway! You want to know what I think? I think you’re just a scared little girl who’s too damn afraid that she might have to feel something again! Shit happens, Buffy, mostly to you. Yeah, your life has sucked so far, but it’s time to give up the damn martyrdom gig and do something about it!”

Buffy looked ready to explode any second. Visions of himself sporting a knee brace and nose plaster flashed through his mind. So, he was quite shocked when Buffy suddenly grabbed his face and pulled him in for a devouring kiss that melted his defenses and his brain, and sent what little blood that hadn’t already done so rushing straight south. Before he even registered what was happening, Buffy had his jeans undone and Spike found himself buried deeply inside her.

Suddenly his mind came rushing back to him, and he knew that whatever he did next might very well win or lose Buffy forever.





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