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Chapter 4 - Destiny


“What do you mean, ‘it’s her’?” Spike asked in a growl.

“I mean, she’s a Slayer who gave her life to save the world. Draw your own
conclusions on whether you think Elizabeth Winters is Buffy Summers.”

”Why was she brought back?” Angel asked.

“Some prophetic future,” Lorne replied. “That parts a little hazy- you may
want to have the brainiacs working on it.”

“If it’s her, why doesn’t she know it’s her?” Spike asked, the anger shading
his voice.

“Not sure about that either, sweet cheeks. I would think she would have a
few vague memories, especially after seeing several people she used to know.
That one’s not for me to say.”

Spike felt his jaw clench. He wasn’t sure why he felt so angry, but he did.
Turning on his heel, Spike stalked out of the hotel. He could hear Angel
calling him, but he didn’t turn around. He wanted to be alone right now, and
he couldn’t get the space he needed in that hotel. He also knew that he
didn’t have long before sunrise, and that only served to fuel his anger.

Walking down the street, Spike shoved his hands in the pockets of his
duster. His mind was such a whirlwind of activity, he didn’t even hear the
footsteps behind him. When he felt a hand on his arm, Spike’s first
reaction was a powerful backhand. He frowned when it didn’t connect and
looked down to see Buffy cowering, having narrowly avoided the punch.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that, pet,” Spike said as he offered
her a hand, fully aware that this was Buffy he was touching and feeling very
strange toward her now.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I thought you heard me.”

Spike stared at her for a long time. This was nothing like the Buffy he
remembered. Of course, he didn’t really know her when she was this age.
Tried to kill her, yes, but he never got to know her. This girl was
innocent, pure. She wasn’t hardened by a lover who turned evil and mentally
tortured her for months.

“Did I do something wrong?” he heard her ask quietly.

“No…Buffy,” he said her name quietly, realizing that this was the same woman
he fell in love with. And also the same woman who rejected him. “You
should get back inside, pet.”

“I-I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to be around me, Buffy,” Spike said quietly, looking at the
ground.

“Please don’t make me go back alone,” she said quietly. “I feel safe with
you.”

“Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re not safe with me.”

He saw a brief flash of fear in her eyes before she took a step closer to
him. “Then why do I feel like I am?”

* * * * *

Spike sat in his room later that night, chain-smoking. He and Buffy had
gone back to the hotel when it was clear that Buffy wasn’t going to leave
him alone. After he had reassured her that his room was close enough to
hers if something were to happen, she finally went to sleep.

Spike stayed up, talking to the group about what they were going to do. Wes
and Fred were researching the prophecy of the Slayer who was supposed to
live again, while the rest determined that it wouldn’t be a wise decision to
tell Buffy who she was or is. If she were supposed to know, the memories
would have come back to her.

Now, as Spike sat on the windowsill, staring out at the city, his mind
drifted over moments that he tried to bury years ago. Everything seemed to
come rushing back to him, as if he’d turned a key and veiled secrets seemed
to become clear again. As much as he’d wished for this moment over the
years, he now knew it wasn’t fair. Buffy had lived her life, she’d served
her time, and it wasn’t right to bring her back just to throw her into yet
another prophecy.

Spike still felt as drawn to her as he had when he first saw her. She had
that essence about her that seemed to call to him, whether he was wanting
to kill her or love her. He couldn’t be weak about this. Spike could
plainly see that she looked at him as some sort of hero, and he couldn’t let
that feeling develop into something more. Angel had to leave her to give
her a normal life. Spike couldn’t risk getting close enough to her for that
to happen. If Spike forgot for a moment what he was, it would be a mistake.

* * * * *

Buffy lay in her bed, tossing and turning at the blurry images that seemed
to dance in her dreams. Flashes of people and places rushed in front of
her.

"Angel was a vampire."


Buffy awoke with a start. She gasped for breath as she tried to recall some
of the people she had seen, but she couldn’t. All she could remember was
that voice she had heard. “Angel was a vampire,” she whispered before
jumping off of her bed and quietly opening the door to her room. Spike had
said he was at the end of the hall, so Buffy hurriedly made her way there.

There were only two closed doors at the end, and Buffy could see a faint
light glimmering around the edges of one of them. Knocking lightly, Buffy
took a step back and bit her lip as she waited. Spike opened the door a
moment later, cigarette in hand, hair a tousled mess from running his
fingers through it. “What’s wrong?” he asked, instantly worried.

Buffy glanced around the hall before turning back to him. “Can I come in?”

Spike opened the door a little wider, allowing her in. He noticed the
nervous way she was wringing her hands together and biting her lip. “You
gonna tell me, pet, or do I have to guess?”

“Is Angel a vampire?” Buffy asked, figuring the direct course was the best.

Spike seemed slightly surprised by the question but shook it off. “Yes.”

“But…”

“He won’t hurt you, Buffy. He has a soul.”

“How?”

“A very long, boring story that you don’t want to get into tonight. How’d
you find out anyway?”

“I-I had a dream.”

Spike seemed to look nervous for a moment. “Anything else in this dream of
yours, pet?”

“Flashes,” she said quietly. “People I don’t know, but I can’t remember
what they look like now. There was a voice right before I woke up that
said ‘Angel was a vampire'."

“Spike, please, you’re a vampire.”

“Angel was a vampire.”

“Angel was good!”


Spike shook his head, clearing it of the memories that threatened to
overload him.

“It was your voice, Spike,” Buffy said quietly.

“Yeah…um…probably just because you’ve talked to me the most.”

“But how would I know that Angel’s a vampire?”

Spike shrugged as he walked to the window, taking a long drag on his
cigarette. “Maybe you have a sixth sense about these things. You never
know.”

“Maybe,” Buffy said quietly, looking at the floor.

“You should get back to bed, pet. You need your rest.”

“Yeah,” Buffy whispered, walking to the door. “Sorry to bother you.”

“You didn’t bother me, luv. I know you’re confused and in a strange place
right now, but don’t worry, no one here is going to hurt you.”

Buffy gave him a grateful smile. “Good night, Spike,” she said, shutting
the door behind her.

“Good night, luv,” Spike said softly, his voice getting lost in the empty
room.





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