This is a new kind of song fic (or at least I think it is). What I've done is bolded the non-song lines and used the actual lyrics in my story...no, it's not just you that was confusing...you'll just have to read it to find out what I mean.
Summary: Buffy is with Parker, but Spike is the one who is there for her. Based on Something Crazy by Franky Perez
I’m here again. Here. Again. On a sunny, summer Wednesday morning at 9:20, I’m here waiting for her.
If you think about it logically there are plenty of better places for me to be—work, breakfast, the grocery store, sleeping; but I can’t seem to convince myself that any of them are really better.
So, instead I’m here waiting for Buffy—the love of my life. We get together once a week, Buffy and I do, To bare our souls in my back seat. I know this isn’t healthy, know I need to call an end to these meetings, but I never can seem to have the heart to form the words.
Every week it’s the same: She makes me wear my heart on my sleeve and just when I’m ready to tell her this is all a horrible idea, she cries a bit and I, of course, act the fool and decide I’ll do this for her for as long as she needs—needs it, needs me.
We reminisce about high school—back when times were good for both of us—good for us. And before I can stop it, I do what I do far too often; I ask her why she didn’t choose me.
I expect her to yell at me, to cry, to look hurt, to hate me—I look at her expecting any or all of the above and she says, “Help me get out of here. The walls are closing in,” she says and I know exactly what she means. “I want to be gone before he comes back again. Help me get out of here.” There’s desperation in her voice now, “I need to get out of here—before I do something crazy.”
And for the first time in nearly two years, I look at her—really look at her. All I’ve seen until just now is my beautiful, sunshine-y girl. But now that I really look past her smiles and my love, I notice how she wears makeup to hide the scars and how she’s got bruises up and down her arms and the coward’s name tattooed on her wrist: Parker. It’s been like this for the last couple of years, worse some weeks than others…but every week it’s something.
I look at the beautiful girl sitting next to me and can’t believe that anyone would ever dream of hurting her.
And for a second I think that maybe time has dulled me to the anger I’ve felt towards this man, pushed it below the surface. But in the same instant that I think it, I know that it’s wrong, know it’s not true. My anger hasn’t receded since that first time I found out he’d hit her. No, it’s just slowly simmered inside me, wanting with all its ever growing might to come out and finally give that bastard what he deserves.
The anger, the pain, the rage is all still there, but I’ve just done my best to repress it—knowing that I’d never be any help to her if I tired for the indignant self-righteous attitude that everyone else tries. I know that telling her to leave him would never have helped, not until she’s come to that conclusion on her own.
And now she has.
She says that she’s afraid to leave. She says, “Someday he’s gonna kill me, Will. Really he will, and I can’t be there for that. Cause when he’s drunk he talks with his fists, she said. “Help me get out of here. Please Will? I know I haven’t made the best choices and you have every reason to hate me for them, but please, if it’s the last thing you do…help me get out of here.”
I remember her words, “The walls are closing in.” And I know that if I don’t help her…I’ll lose her. One way or another, I’ll lose my girl—who isn’t really even my girl.
She’s talking again, and I have to snap myself out of my negative thoughts to hear her, “I wanna be gone before he comes back again. Help me get out of here. I know I’m being repetitive, but I need to get out of here, Will. Before I do something crazy,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.
I look at my Buffy and know what my decision is, “I love you, you know that—have known it since I told you back in high school. I’ve never stopped and never will. And, pet, you’ve suffered for much too long. I can’t stand to see you so scared. I’ll protect you, Buffy. Because, baby, he can’t get to you through my arms. And I know that I may not be your personal Christ…”
“But you are William, you really are. You’re always there to save me when I need you to….even if I don’t know I need saving.”
“Not sure I agree with you, luv. But you don’t have to pray in vain. ‘Cause I’ll be by your side this time. I’ll help you get out of here—if the walls are closing in.” I said, wanting her to know that while I wasn’t everything she’d claimed me to be—I had let it get this far after all—I’d still help her get out.
Looking at the clock I knew we needed to get a move on, “But we better be gone before he comes back again. I’ll help you out of here.”
And just like that I know that I’ll die to protect her if it ever comes to it. I’m not going to let her go again. From now on, she’s mine. My responsibility. My love. Mine to protect. Mine. Not going to let her get hurt again.
And all during the ride to her house, to take her away with me, all I hear is the rumble of the beginning of a morning thunderstorm and her mumblings of, “We better get out of here. Before I do something crazy. Something crazy….I do something crazy.”
Lyrics in not bold font by Franky Perez, song is Something Crazy
I hope the funny bolding wasn't too confusing....
thanks to Elena for her help with this...and with the summary.