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Chapter 34 – Moment of Truth


Buffy’s eyes squeezed together more firmly as she slowly became aware of the pain that was radiating through her shoulder. Hearing the distant beep of hospital equipment and the muffled sound of activity on the other side of the door, she attempted to gather the courage to open her eyes.

Knowing that everything would come back to her with perfect clarity when she did so, Buffy slowly blinked, taking in the hospital room. A distinct feeling of déjà vu when she saw Giles sitting beside her, noticing her at the same moment that she noticed him.

“Buffy,” he said in a relieved voice. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” she said dryly, wincing as she tried to shift her shoulder. “Not the pleasure cruise you would expect.”

Smiling slightly, Giles took a deep breath, obviously trying to come to terms with the fact that she was okay.

“Here’s a novel idea,” Buffy said, breathing a little heavier to attempt to alleviate that shooting pains that ran through her arm and chest. “How about I actually complete a mission and don’t have to check into a hospital.”

Smiling as the fighter in her seemed to prevail, Giles nodded. “Let’s hope this is the last time.”

“Angelus is still out there, isn’t he?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject as every memory seemed to slam into her at the same time.

“He is,” Giles confirmed, seeing her jaw tighten in response.

“Damn it,” she muttered, restlessly hitting the mattress, wincing when the motion immediately jarred her injured shoulder. Looking over at Giles, her expression grew even more solemn. “And Spike?”

“Was the first to get to you,” Giles admitted grudgingly.

“No… I figured that… where is he now?”

* * * * *

Pacing around the waiting room of the hospital, Spike anxiously tapped the box of cigarettes against his open palm, not willing to leave the room in case there was any news on Buffy’s condition.

Rupert’s words still haunting him with every step he took.

“You are to stay here. If she wants to see you, I’ll let you know, but I’m not going to run the risk of you upsetting her when she wakes up.”

He knew that he should have left. Should have walked right out of the hospital the second that he knew Buffy would be okay and never look back. But Rupert’s voice wasn’t the only thing that haunted him.

The image of his red shirt stained a darker crimson as Buffy’s blood seeped into the fabric was enough to tie his stomach into knots all over again.

Running a hand through his hair as he exhaled loudly, Spike irritably continued his pacing, never noticed when Giles walked into the room.

“She’s asking for you.”

The cold tone of voice immediately drew Spike’s attention to him. His eyes widened when he realized that he would actually get to see her – and that it was Buffy who wanted him in her room.

Not bothering to respond, Spike nodded, wordlessly walking past the older man and down the overly bright and sterile hallway. Soundlessly slipping into her room and shutting the door behind him, Spike became transfixed as he watched Buffy. Her eyes were unfocused as she looked at the crystal vase that was overflowing with vibrant red roses.

“They’re beautiful,” she said quietly, never turning to face him, instinctively knowing who was in her room.

“You like them?” Spike asked, taking a small step forward in an effort to bridge the invisible gap between them.

“As much as I liked the last vase you sent,” she said quietly, turning toward him- finally raising her eyes to his. “That was you… right?”

“It was,” he said, nodding slightly. Spike gave her a hesitant smile, finally relaxing when she reached for him. Closing the distance between them, he carefully took her hand in his, eyeing the sling that adorned her other arm, encasing her arm and keeping her shoulder as immobile as possible.

“What were you doing there, Buffy?” he asked, staring into her eyes as she gave him a weak smile.

“Saving your ass, remember? It’s what I do,” she replied lightly.

“I’m serious,” Spike said, his brow furrowing as he watched her smile fade away.

“I was being serious,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes as he registered what she’d said.

Offering her a slight smile, Spike hesitantly pressed a kiss to her forehead, seeing Buffy look up at him in shock. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?” she asked, her voice taking on a slightly breathless quality as she stared into his eyes.

“For loving me that much,” he replied, tilting his head slightly as he brushed the hair away from her cheeks, letting his fingertips trail along her skin for the briefest of seconds.

“Who said anything about love?” she asked, guarding her expression against him as his movements paused.

“Don’t turn into the coy, shy woman now, Buffy,” he said in a teasing voice. “It doesn’t become you.”

“It was never me,” she whispered, almost to herself. “You never knew me.”

“You don’t believe that,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Or I wouldn’t be standing here right now… or maybe that’s what you want.”

Unable to say anything, Buffy continued to stare at the dingy blanket that covered her lower body, avoiding Spike’s strong gaze.

Misreading her reaction, Spike slowly pulled away from her, taking a step back. “Nice knowing you, Summers,” he said in a low voice that held no malice toward her before turning away from her.

“Stop right there,” Buffy said as he reached for the doorknob.

“I should leave,” he muttered, twisting the knob.

“You owe me,” she replied, her voice coming out stronger than she expected.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Spike took a deep breath, seeing the determination in her eyes as she moved to sit up, flinching from the obvious pain that spread through her when she slightly moved her shoulder. “I shouldn’t be here, Buffy,” he said after a moment, looking at the floor.

“I took a bullet for you,” she said, her soft words practically cutting into him. “I almost died for you,” she continued, never taking her gaze away from him. “You owe me ten minutes.”

Taking a deep breath as he looked at the ceiling, Spike gritted his teeth. “Bollocks,” he muttered to himself, knowing what this was going to boil down to. “Moment of truth, is it?”

“I think I deserve that much,” Buffy replied, tightening her lips when he looked at her.

“You’re a smart girl,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sure you’ve figured out a lot of it.”

“That Ethan and Giles were a little chummier than expected? That Giles seems to have some kind of trust in you, even if he buries it beneath the hate? That you seem to know an awful lot about both sides of the field?” she continued, tilting her head to study him. “There’s a back-story to you, William Reed, and I intend to find that out. No more of this good guy/bad guy crap. I want the truth. I think I’ve earned it. Fill in the blanks.”

Falling into the chair next to the bed, Spike wearily ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily.

Just when Buffy was about to question him again, he spoke.

“I was a stupid kid,” he muttered, never tearing his gaze away from the floor. “A right prat. Always had everything I ever wanted- never questioned it. Never questioned that I could get it,” he added with a dry laugh. “And when asking became too easy, stealing gave me a rush. Anything I could get away with- small stuff from drugstores, escalating to valuable paintings and antiques.”

“You were a thief from the get-go,” Buffy said, seeing his eyes finally raise to hers.

“Up until my early twenties,” he said with a nod.

“What?” she asked in surprise.

“I got caught. Or… noticed.”

“Noticed?” Buffy repeated in confusion.

“An FBI Agent,” he continued, leaning back in the chair to look at her. “Saw the potential in me.”

“You were an agent?” Buffy murmured, feeling short of breath.

Spike continued to look at her, not needing to confirm anything.

“W-what…? What happened?” she finally asked, her voice choking around the words.

“Got bored,” Spike replied with a shrug.

“So… you quit the honest job to become a fulltime art thief?” she asked in confusion, seeing the slight smile on his face.

“Something like that, yeah. You see, I picked up a lot of tricks from the few years I was in the Bureau. In time, I surpassed my mentor and felt I needed a new challenge. He was inclined to agree.”

“Your mentor…? Ethan,” Buffy whispered, her eyes widening in understanding, remembering Giles words from only hours earlier.

“He’s… influenced Spike.”

“Left the nine-to-five gig in pursuit of better things. Of course, the official word was that I put in for early retirement. It was believable- I was always living off of the family money and the job was never anything more than a hobby. I’d learned enough to become more efficient in my chosen profession. Ethan somehow knew what I was up to. Wanted a taste of the dark side and followed me.”

“This isn’t Star Wars,” Buffy said, her brows furrowing as she leaned more heavily against the pillows behind her.

“There’s a dark path in every form of life, Buffy. It’s up to you whether you take it or not,” Spike finished in a sharp whisper. “I trust that you can fill in the blanks from there.”

“You’ve said enough,” she replied, taking a deep breath. “And that’s why you didn’t want to take Giles’ deal when I came to you? Why you said you’d lose everything?”

“If I were to work with the Feds, the contacts I’ve made over the last few years would think that I was a double agent. So, yeah, I would have lost everything, except material possessions.”

“And the recognition means more to you than anything,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment before turning to look at him with a blank expression. “More than me.”

“It’s not that easy, love.”

“Oh, I think it’s exactly that easy, Mr. Reed,” she countered, taking a deep breath to control her anger before cocking her head to the side. “Or do you prefer Agent Reed? You seemed to enjoy calling me that when you confronted me. Seems only fitting that the tables have turned.”

“Don’t do this, pet.”

“You selfish bastard.”

“Buffy-”

“You jump all over me for the fact that I was an agent and yet you knew exactly what I was going through! You knew! You are such a hypocrite,” she spat out, growing more frustrated as the calm mask stayed firmly in place. “You put me through hell. You’ve indirectly put me in the hospital twice. You’ve blown my cover on a major case and you’re still standing there without a care in the world.”

“It’s not-”

“-like that?” Buffy filled in, clenching her jaw. “It never is, is it, Spike? Because that’s the way of the world. Everything is all well and fine until you get bitten in the ass and then, guess what? It’s time for the blame game.”

Closing her eyes, Buffy battled the tears in her eyes as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Hearing Spike move to the door, her shoulders shook slightly while she repressed her sobs, ignoring the pains that shot up and down her arm as a result. “What was real?” she whispered as he walked away from her, repeating the question he had asked her so long ago.

Opening the door, Spike glanced over his shoulder, seeing her looking so frail and broken on the bed, wanting nothing more than to reach out to her. “You and me,” he replied, clenching his jaw to restrain his own tears before walking out the door. “Always you and me.”





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