CHAPTER 8 --
A/N: No flashback in this chapter -- it’s (hopefully) a bit of a heavy one, and I really needed it to stand on it’s own.
I said I’m gonna buy this place and burn it down
I’m gonna put it six feet underground . . .
Because I’m gonna buy this place and see it burn
Do back the things it did to you in return
He said oh I’m gonna buy a gun and start a war
If you can tell me something worth fighting for
Oh and I’m gonna buy this place, that’s what I said
Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head
- “A Rush of Blood to the Head” Coldplay
The BMW’s tires squealed against the pavement as Spike peeled down the road. He was surprised that his could still remember where to turn to get to Riley Finn’s house. His blinding anger must have opened up some dark recess of his brain to retract the information. It never even dawned on him to think he may not live with his parents anymore.
Whipping his car to park hap-hazardously across the driveway, Spike launched himself up the porch, his fist pounded against the door.
The man who quickly answered didn’t look particularly surprised to see him.
“Will,” Riley started raggedly.
“It’s Spike now,” he growled, pushing past him into the house.
Riley nodded his okay, closing the door behind them.
He crossed the room to stand in front of Spike.
Momentarily shaking himself of his rage, Spike stopped and took a good solid look at his surroundings.
The room they were in was cramped. Every piece of furniture seemed off-centered. Empty beer bottles and potato chip bags littered every available space. A half-eaten Hungry Man microwave meal sat on the coffee table. The television was on mute, playing some old football game on ESPN.
And the person in front of him was not Riley Finn, high school jock -- the boy who tortured him in school. The man there now wore a beaten jersey and old basketball shorts that failed to hide the ankle bracelet around his left leg or the thirty pounds he’d gained since high school graduation. And it wasn’t muscle.
The fight drained out of him.
They stood there in silence, Spike lost in his own thoughts and Riley’s eyes darting around the room.
Spike’s eyes were unfocused, “Her funeral was today.”
“I know.”
“I came here to kill you,” he continued quietly.
“I know.”
“You made my life a living hell.”
Riley scoffed, “Good to know you didn’t come out of it bitter.”
“No,” Spike shook his head, his voice becoming uncontrollable as it rose in fury, “I came out the winner apparently.” He stormed over to Riley, “But what I can’t figure out is where my fucking prize is!” he screamed, hot tears streaming down his face. “Was it when you ran my mother over and fucking kept driving! You know you probably would have gotten away with it if you hadn’t of wrapped your car around a fucking pole! You always were a dumb fuck.”
Riley shook his head, “Rant all you want, I’ve heard this. Buffy already came and saw me.”
Spike jerked, “Buffy? What does Buffy have to do with any of this?”
Riley sat down on the recliner, “She’s a sweet girl, Spike. I wasn’t any good to her.”
Spike’s eyes narrowed, his voice dangerous, “You better the fuck mean in high school.”
Riley chuckled bitterly, “Didn’t you hear? We dated.”
“You went out with her?” Spike’s jaw ticked, he curled and uncurled his fists.
Riley nodded, “For a couple years in college. I would have thought that under the circumstances everyone would have told you.”
“And what circumstances would those be?”
Riley met his eyes, seemingly ignoring his question, “You left her,” he stated.
“And it was the biggest fucking mistake of my life!” He roared.
With that one exclamation, many things that Spike had been feeling over the past couple days shot to the surface. Feelings about his parents, L.A. . . . and Buffy.
Riley had tortured him all through school, ruining his life. His anger towards Riley and his henchmen had caused him to run away -- run away from Sunnydale and, more importantly, from Buffy. Then the fuck had gone on to date Buffy, which was an action inexcusable in itself. Then, he had killed his mother. Spike had left Sunnydale to escape this sort of anguish, but he hadn’t. Riley had stayed here and killed Jenny. Spike wandered if he had stayed, would it all be different. Riley wouldn’t have dated Buffy, that was for Goddamn sure.
Spike studied Riley again. He was out of college, obviously not using whatever degree he had received, living with his parents. He was a fat alcoholic who had hit rock bottom and was in no position to be on the up anytime soon.
Riley had afflicted more pain to himself than Spike ever could. In the long run Spike had won -- the quintessential geek had beat the school jock. But it was a bittersweet victory.
Riley broke the long silence, “I guess neither one of us really left high school did we?”
Spike jolted at the sudden noise. “I am nothing like you,” he spat.
“Well,” Riley looked over his clothing -- the same warm-up sweats his coach had given him in twelfth grade, “I may have not left it physically. But you sure are mentally holding on,” he challenged.
Without a response, Spike threw himself off the couch and out the door, slamming it behind him.
_____________________________________
It was 2AM and pouring rain by the time he made it to Willy’s, drank until he was cut off by the owner himself, and made it to Buffy’s.
The irony of getting drunk after seeing the man who drove drunk and killed his mother was not lost on him.
But the alcohol hadn’t even begun to distort his thoughts.
He needed answers. He wanted them now.
Pounding up the steps to the door, he beat his hand against the wood.
He could hear footsteps running down the stairs to quickly cease the noise. Throwing open the door, Buffy stood in her pajama. She looked prepared to give him the sharp side of her tongue, but Spike didn’t give her the chance.
“Did you sleep with him?” he delved.
Buffy took in his rugged appearance. Alcohol was on his breath. He was still in his suit from the funeral, but the tie was gone, half his dress shirt was untucked, and the first few buttons were undone. His hair was beginning to form tight curls, the rain having had washed out the moose. “William . . .” she started.
“Did. You. Sleep. With. Him.?”
“No,” she answered, “I haven’t been with anyone since . . .” She stopped. If he was allowed to get angry, so was she. “But so what if I had slept with him?” She crossed her arms, “I wasn’t yours anymore.” She raised her chin defiantly, but her voice softened, “It’s been eight years, Will. You haven’t been back here in eight years. You don’t get to swoop back into town with your . . .”
He braced himself on both sides of the doorframe, leaning in.
She didn’t back away.
His stance was as demanding as his tone, “Is that why you tried to stop me from going to see him today? Do you still have feelings for him?”
“Is this all you’re concerned about?” she asked incredulously. “You may not have been close to your mother towards the end, but I was.” Her words were meant to sting. “Did you even know Xander and Willow were at Jenny’s funeral? Xander brought his wife, whom you’ve never met, and Willow cried on the shoulder of her girlfriend.”
“Well excuse me for . . .” he sobered, “Wait! Willow’s gay!? How much did I bloody miss!?”
Buffy closed her eyes and shook her head before leveling her gaze to him, “A lot, Will. A lot.”
She shut the door in his face.
I need some sleep
You can’t go home like this
I tried counting sheep
But there’s one I always miss
Everyone says I’m gettin’ down too low
Everyone says “You just got to let it go”
You just got to let it go
You just got to let it go
- “I Need Some Sleep” Eels
TBC
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