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Chapter 10: Eyes off the ball

Buffy tiptoed through the foyer, wary not to rouse anyone- still giddy from the remarkable night. Creeping up the stairs she hastily darted down the hall towards her room, awaiting the safety within. Before her hand could turn the knob allowing her passage she noticed the dull light peeking from underneath.

‘Damn-it Buffy!’ She mentally chastised. ‘He only wanted you to call.’

One swift flick of her wrist and she pivoted around the slightly ajar timber, snapping it closed without a sound.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She flew to Xander, who was hunched over on the floor reading a comic book.

“Keep it coming! Much in the way of grovelling is needed.” He folded his arms deliberately. “I suggest you take shifts, grovel, sleep, grovel, sleep.”

“I know this was my total bad, and I feel awful. Look… guilty Buffy face.” Fluttering her lashes she sulked.

“Nope, not good enough. I demand restitution.”

“Like what mom does at the gallery to those old paintings? Gross!”

“That’s restoration.”

“Oh? Then what…”

“Never mind.” Xander shook his head before continuing. “I know Spike is on the team… and he seems fine in his own un-dead sort of way.” He recoiled at the smack he received. “And I surely know that you can take care of yourself, but you… we… we all just met him. What if something happened?”

“I know I forgot to check in, but I would have called you at the first… before first actually! Pre… at the pre-sign of trouble… promise.” Buffy clarified.

“What if trouble was to fast for you? Like lightening… or a cheetah… or Starbucks?”

“I’m sure… whether I called or not, I never would have escaped the evil ploys of coffee-to-go.” She mocked.

“Hey now! Never underestimate the power and motives of a fast growing chain... you should ask yourself… where do they get all that foam?”

“Out! Go! I’m not staying up to discuss the possible apocalyptic plans of a coffee shop!” Buffy drug Xander to his feet.

“I’m just sayin’.” He whined.

“Sleep, me, now… I love you goodnight.”

“Wait, before I go.” He delayed for her nod. “How did your date with Count Bleachula go anyway?”

“You do realise that calling him names is only going to make me want to date him more. I mean you do know that right?” She enlightened him, crossing her arms in objection.

Buffy continued after basking in the crestfallen look Xander wore.

“It went fine. He was a perfect gentlemen, happy now?” He nodded. “Now go! I need to sleep.”

“Night Buff.” He leaned down placing a tiny kiss on her forehead before disappearing into his own room next-door.

“Night.”

~~

Spike bounded along his driveway a supremely euphoric feeling pulsing through him. He twisted the key in the lock, gliding inside with a grace that usually eluded him. Just as his first foot hit the stairs he went rigid with fear, that noise. A hoarse anguishing moan, he wanted to run, hide even. But he stood stalk still waiting, wondering if it was real.

It came again and he flew into action, rounding the corner towards the study following the primal groans.

“DA’!”

Spike flung himself into the archway, pausing briefly, allowing himself a moment to adjust to the absence of light. A heartbeat later his eyes fixed upon the crumpled form of his father and he dove, immediately seizing fist fulls of sweater- shaking him.

“Da’? DA’, daddy!” He begged for a response, eyes welling. “OH god I- I never should have left you, not today. God please.”

Prying dead lids apart Spike inspected his father’s eyes, cowering when they rolled back, whites glaring at him.

Another guttural reverberation echoed through the dark space.

“Da’? Please, what happened? Should I call someone, are you gonna be ‘right. Please, please, SAY SOMETHING!” He roared jerking him violently.

“W- William…” Giles croaked, voice raspy and cracked due to the abuse it had endured.

“Oh, da’ I’m so sorry… I…”

“Nonsense.” It took everything within him to speak.

“No, it’s all my bloody fault…”

“William…” Somehow he steadied his hoarse whisper. “I need…”

“Yes da’ anything…”

“I need you to know that nothing… nothing has been your fault… your mother…”

“STOP! Fuckin’ hell! It WAS and you know it!” He spat, grinding his teeth, yearning to flee.

“William you did nothing wrong…”

“I did NOTHING!” Spike screeched, rebellious tears breaking free.

“Dear lord!” He coughed brutally. “You were 14 years old boy, and you were hurt, what in god’s name did you hope to do?’

Collapsing onto his father’s chest- tremors erupting through him, Spike released a tiny whimper.

“Save her.”

~~

Buffy curled into the warmth of her comforter, holding Mr. Gordo close. She burrowed deep into the nest of cotton worrying her bottom lip.

‘I’m a bad sister… I’m worse then bad, I’m appalling! That’s what I am I’m an appalling sister. After what happened in LA I should have cared more.’

She sighed, drawing the stuffed pig away, looking him in the hard plastic eye.

“I need to make it up to him…” She awaited a response, continuing after a silent moment. “And I need to talk to Willow, tell her all about my…” She drew in her breath. “Mr. Grodo you’re a genius! After all I did make them my new project, it’s about time I get a little work done.” She giggled.

With that Buffy cuddled into herself feeling complete reprieve from her guilt with her new plan simmering in her mind. She fell swiftly off to sleep.

~~

Father and son remained connected. Consoling one another for a lengthy period, long enough to dry tears and restore simple motor functions. Giles inhaled profoundly, rising to a sitting position, stirring his boy.

“Come now, let’s get you to bed shall we.” Rupert griped Spike’s shoulders hauling both of them to their feet, only to stumble backwards- being caught by his son’s strong hold.

“No da’… let’s get you to bed, yeah.” He coaxed Giles to lean on him before starting off.

“I’m sorry William…”

“Enough of that. You need some sleep… and probably a bucket… and definitely a bath, but we’ll have to settle for some water right.” He gently settled his father into the safety of his own bed before darting off to retrieve the much-needed water.

“Goodnight William, I assume we will talk about this…”

“Another time, yes da’. Night.”

Spike sought solace within his room. Curling onto his bed- drawing his legs up, twisting until he was as diminutive as possible.

‘I can’t handle this bleedin’ hurt in my chest, never used to be this bloody hard, not before.’ Tears resurfaced. ‘It’s the soddin’ girl, since she came ‘bout it’s been nancy-boy this and nancy-boy that. You can’t keep your head straight.’ They streamed down his face liberated again. ‘You’re not him, your not, you’re a bad evil thing! It was your fault! You’re not him, you’re not him, you’re not!’

William wept, drowning in tears, trying desperately to persuade himself that he wasn’t like this, that he was stronger. Sleep eluded him.

~



*A/N: Hope you liked, please take a moment to let me know... pwwwwease!*





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