Eventually, Buffy pulled back a little, and Spike's unbeating heart broke at the sight of her red, tearstained face. Buffy sniffled, and Spike wiped at her damp cheeks with his thumb. "Kitten?"
Buffy's throat felt too dry, too tight for her to speak, so she pointed to the journal still spread out in front of them. Spike picked it up off the floor and read the entry silently, a chill going through him as the suspicions he'd had since Buffy had staked Mack back in the motel room were confirmed.
May 12, 1985
I'm afraid my Slayer has done something unconscionable. For some time, I have worried about her. Although, Joyce excels in her duties as the Chosen One, as she has grown from the girl I was sent to find after her Calling into the young woman she is today, she has begun to question the directives of the Council. She frequently ignores their orders, and her reckless ways have also begun to influence Rupert Giles, a promising young Watcher who some believe may take an active Slayer himself someday, as his father and grandmother before him did.
I've tried to put my faith in Joyce, but after tonight I've come to believe that the Council may have been correct in their worries. She has made a pact with a most vile creature, a vampire known as William the Bloody. I implored her not to leave with him this evening, but she refused, insisting that it was the right thing to do. I cannot see how such an unholy alliance can ever be right, even to defeat a foe such as the demon Ashmalare, who has been plaguing my Slayer for days now. Surely this vampire, who has already attempted to end her life in the past, is in truth working for the demon. If Joyce is so willing to believe that working with a vampire will help her in any way, then she must truly be as far gone as the Council has been insisting.
A week ago, a delegation from the Council arrived in Los Angeles asking for me to hand over control of my Slayer to them, but I have refused them until tonight. As I write, they are seeking her out, and I know that they will do what needs to be done to see that the Chosen One again behaves in a way befitting her title.
May 13, 1985
My Slayer is gone. She was found this morning with the marks of a vampire on her neck.
I have not yet told Buffy the news, and I do not know how I shall. Already, she is asking for her mother, and I do not have the heart to tell the child she is now but an orphan in this world, the only parent who had remained in her life now dead.
The Council has allowed me to stay here in California to care for the child, and I will do so. It's the least I can do after what I've done.
I didn't mean… I didn't know…
Joyce, I'm so sorry…
Spike closed the journal and pulled Buffy back into his arms. "I trusted him," Buffy said after a few moments. "He's been the only family I've known for years, and he was the one who betrayed her."
"I know." Spike tightened his arms around her. "Buffy, I'm so sorry. For my part in it. I didn't think this would…"
He stopped when Buffy looked up, confused. "Your part? What do you mean?"
"Her Watcher, he did what he did because of the truce Joyce made with me. If I hadn't…"
Buffy shook her head. "No. The Council already wanted her gone, Spike. If they'd sent people here to kill her, then they would have eventually whether she'd made that deal with you or not. That night… You helped her." Buffy pulled up, moving slightly away from him, though not completely. "The Council did this. They're who I need to make pay."
Spike blinked. "Buffy, I know you want vengeance, and I do get that, but taking on the entire Watchers' Council? That's more than we can handle, pet."
"Spike, this is more than just vengeance for my mother now. The Watchers' Council had a Slayer murdered. They set her up so a vampire could kill her. Who knows what else they could do—what else they have done. I owe it to my mother to make sure this doesn't remain hidden. Maybe if I can find someway to expose this level of corruption in the Council then her death wouldn't have been for nothing."
"Then what are we going to do about it?" Spike asked. If this was what Buffy needed to do, then he was by her side, no matter how crazy it was.
"I don't know yet. I'm tired." She shook her head. "God, I'm so tired."
"Do you want to go back to motel?"
"No," Buffy replied. "I don't want to go back in there. I can't. He's…"
Buffy didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't have to. Spike knew. Mack's dust. The vampire may have been part of a conspiracy, but he was still the one who had actually taken Joyce's life.
"How about this then? We go back, you stay in the car while I get your things out of the room, and then we'll find a new motel for the night. Would that be all right?"
"Yes." Buffy gathered the journals in her arms and then rose to her feet, leading Spike out of the apartment.
Buffy was completely silent as they drove to pick up her things from the first motel, and still silent on the way to the next. When Spike parked the car for the night, she didn't move, just stared blankly ahead, and Spike felt worry rise up from the pit of his stomach.
He hated that he couldn't fix this for her, make the pain she was feeling over Howard's betrayal go away. But even with the claim, he knew he couldn't really fathom all she must be feeling right now. To be told that a person you trusted to the level Buffy must've Howard had done something like this… Spike shuddered, aching for the woman he loved.
Tentatively, he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, and Buffy turned suddenly towards him, startled, as if she'd forgotten where she was. "Let's go inside where you can rest, all right, luv?"
Buffy nodded slowly, then got out of the car, following Spike into the room. As soon as they were inside, Buffy stripped off her clothes and got into the bed, curling her body up under the covers. Spike followed suit and joined her, turning out the lights as he did.
He rolled her over and gathered her in his arms, keeping her close to him. For a long while, they stayed like that, Buffy silent and unmoving in his embrace.
Then, the tears began. Softly at first, then the dam broke and she was sobbing. Soon, she was nearly hysterical, choking as she fought to breathe through her cries. Spike pulled her upright with him, his strong hand rubbing her back, trying to calm her. Still, her fit didn't subside, and Spike began to worry for more than just her emotional state. She was gasping now, seemingly to barely manage lungfuls of air between body-wracking sobs.
Spike lifted her up from the bed as he stood and carried her into the bathroom. Holding Buffy to him with one hand, he turned the shower on with the other and then brought them both in under the warm stream of water.
Her legs were too shaky to allow either of them to stand, and Spike guided her down to the bottom of the tub. The majority of the water hit his back, but some of it washed over her, and he was relieved to see that it seemed to be having the calming effect he was hoping for. Her crying began to slow until the sobs were gone, and it was just a steady stream of tears again.
He wished he could take away her tears completely, but knew that wasn't an option now, not after what that night had brought them.
When she seemed as if she was calm enough, Spike reached behind him and turned off the shower, then lifted Buffy back up, cradling her in his arms. He dried them both off with the hotel towels, paying close attention to her hair. He knew she hated the feel of the ends dripping on her after she got out of the shower.
Spike went back into the bedroom and got her brush from her bag, then took her over to the edge of the bed and sat her in his lap. Gently, he brushed the tangles from her hair, then squeezed the excess water from it with the towel one more time.
When he set the brush and damp towel down on the carpet, Buffy turned and buried her head against his chest. She was no longer crying, but Spike could feel the pain still there inside of her, and he enveloped her in his arms, holding her close.
She soon began to tremble, the cool air chilling her bare skin, prompting Spike to lift her up and bring her back to the other end of the bed where they could slide under the covers. Buffy nuzzled against him, and Spike was relieved when she fell asleep, her body too exhausted for her to remain awake any longer.
He kissed the top of her head, whispering his love for her softly against the golden strands before he joined her in slumber.
Buffy didn't want to wake up. She felt safe and warm where she was, but there was something itching at the back of her mind, reminding her that once she opened her eyes and let full consciousness return she wouldn't feel the same.
But she couldn't fight it. Soon, she was awake, and she remembered everything she'd learned the night before.
After so many years of wondering, of the terrible emptiness of not knowing tearing at her, she now knew. She'd found her answer, but she hadn't found peace.
Be careful what you wish for, Buffy… she thought bitterly. Last night, she had dusted the vampire who had taken her mother's life, but it hadn't afforded her any of what she'd believed that act would. She'd also learned on whose shoulders the blame for her mother's murder truly rested, but there had been no comfort in knowing that either. If anything, the horrible truth she'd learned had been worse than not knowing.
It had seemed apparent in the journal that Howard had not been directly involved in Joyce's murder, but that did not absolve him of his guilt. He had known at least in part what he was doing by handing his Slayer over to the Council, and Buffy had no doubt that he knew what they were capable of. He had to have known there was at least a chance that the Council would take the steps they had, and was therefore, in Buffy's eyes, just as responsible for her mother's death as Mack had been.
The one person she wouldn't blame was the one in the bed with her then. Despite Spike's truce with Joyce being the reason Howard had cited for deciding to betray his Slayer, Buffy saw no way that that made Spike responsible for Joyce's death. Under that logic, Giles would be responsible for it, too, since Howard had also mentioned the younger Watcher's relationship with Joyce as a reason for the Council's displeasure with her.
No, the Council had acted not because of Joyce's decisions. Not really. Buffy had gotten a glimpse of enough of the Council's politics in her life to know where the conflict had truly arisen. Joyce had not been playing by their rules, and had therefore stripped away from them their power. That was why she had died. Not because of any truce she made or relationship she had, but because she had tried to take power away from a group of greedy bastards who rebelled at the loss of control.
Buffy knew taking on the Council could turn out to be a suicide mission, but it was a risk she was willing to take. They had stolen something from her, and from her mother as well. They were living off the power of the Slayer, and that stirred something inside of her, a primal anger on her mother's behalf. She needed to get to them, to let them know that this power was not theirs. It belonged to the Slayer.
It had belonged to her mother.
Buffy was not a Slayer herself, but she was strong, and she could still stand up for them. If the Council could so easily move in and arrange the death of a Slayer they felt had gotten out of hand, then she doubted it had been the first time. If they were capable of that, then they were just as evil as the demons the Slayers faced every day.
And they were human.
Buffy's world was shifting, the black and white it had been melting into each other, forming a gray she hadn't been able to acknowledge in the past. But she couldn't think about it then, couldn't give voice to what she was feeling. She had a concrete mission now, something real to fight. She'd already decided on her first step.
It was time to return to the Hellmouth.
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