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A/N: I did do some research into abortion and i realized that it couldn't really fit into the timeline of the story - since it's normally done after the 6th week or something. I decided to leave the abortion scene out... i think it would make it more powerful that way. To have the feeling of guilt and the emptiness of emotions that follow. Making the scene real... i guess it just makes it more concrete and less... important.



Chapter 19 Forgive Me

Wednesday, July 30th 2005

Eighteenth Entry.

I have two more days with you, Giles. How bout that, huh? Promise to miss me? I know I’ll miss you.

Every single time I lie in bed and try to sleep, I see her eyes. They haunt me, even now. But it was worse back then. Back then, it was like a living nightmare. I saw her everywhere, not only just in my dreams. I saw her face staring back at me in the mirror, I saw her sitting on the counter with two little dark-brown pigtails, I saw her reflections on window panes, I saw her sitting by the window when I woke up…

That first week after the ‘incident’ (It scares me to say ‘abortion’)…I thought maybe I was going crazy. I could hardly sleep, but it hurt to much to stay awake. The guilt… it overwhelmed me, it smothered me, it accused me of murder, everywhere I turned, I heard little bitty voices saying “go… go to hell”

Sunday, May 29th, 2005

It was almost passed midnight when I finally dragged myself into my room, automatically turning to look at the windowsill, expecting to see my little girl sitting there, deathly still, staring at me with big, empty eyes.

So it’s safe to say that I was fairly surprised when, instead, I found her father sitting there in a blood red button-down shirt, black pants, and black combat boots. He had Mr. Gordo in his hands and was staring down blankly at him… I wasn’t sure if he was seeing anything, though. His hair was rumpled and his skin looked paler than usual.

“Your shoes better not be dirty,” I mumbled, then flicked off my room lights and made my way to the bed to get safely under the covers. I imagined that he probably looked up, surprised that I caught him, then sat there silently staring at my back as I got myself ready to go to sleep.

An eternity passed without a sound coming from either one of us. I counted to one hundred before I twisted around under the blankets to look at the windowsill, wondering if I had just imagined him sitting there.

Sure enough, he was still there, staring at me with unreadable eyes. His shoes were still on. We silently regarded each other for a moment before he finally spoke.

“I had some time to think things out,” he started, getting up off the windowsill and walking the length of my room. “I sorted out my affairs, made clear of things, and I deci - Buffy, I’m sorry.” The last part seemed to burst out of his mouth unplanned, sounding rushed and anxious.

I couldn’t deal with seeing him there, so I turned around again, facing away from him. I didn’t feel any of the emotions that I had been expecting: no more tears, no more anger, no more anything. Just simply … nothing.

“Buffy, please,” his voice was pleading and he walked across the room to kneel down beside me on my side of the bed. “I was a right git and I know it… I said some horrible things to you that I never meant. Please, love,… I’m sorry.”

I looked into his eyes, shadowed in the darkness but gleaming from the nighttime stars. When I didn’t respond, he moved his hands up to stroke my hair.

“Please… say you forgive me,” he whispered, bringing his face near mine. “I didn’t – I was being a fucking wanker,… I’ll do anything, Buffy. Anything you ask to make things all right with us again. Please?”

He brought his lips down to mine and gave me a soft kiss. I didn’t push him away, but I didn’t do anything to go further… I didn’t even feel any of the emotions that I was supposed to feel. When I didn’t respond to him, he pulled away and kept trying. “I can stay here, Buffy. We’ll have the baby… I want it more than anything. I want you to be the mother of my child, love. We can be so happy together, we can do it! Please, Goldilocks, I’m so sorry.”

I saw the tears glisten from his eyes but they didn’t faze me. He went on. “I never meant the things I said about our baby, love. I was just angry that you wouldn’t come to me… and I was confused about Cecily and my son, James. Things were happening too fast and I said hurtful things. But I know that the second you tell me to stay with you, I will. Sod everything else. I want to be with you. This baby’s a miracle, pet. It’s a bloody miracle! I see it now and I want it… I want it more than anything.”

I couldn’t take it anymore and I turned my head to stare up at the ceiling. It wasn’t until I heard his desperate “Baby, please… I love you” when I moved to the other side of the queen sized bed… to get away from him.

Then, I took a deep, shuddery breath and told him what he had to know.

“There’s no baby, Spike,” the words seemed to float in the night and disappear through my window. I heard no immediate sounds from his end and closed my eyes to prepare myself for an outburst.

Just as I felt that I had enough of the uncomfortable, rigid silence, I felt the bed move and the springs creak as he got on it and shuffled across to come up behind me.

“… no baby?” his voice was low. I didn’t know whether he was happy or not.

“Not anymore. Please leave. I want to be alone.”

I silently prayed that he would just disappear so I could sleep and rest and not think anymore. But it seemed as if God was tired of answering my prayers and he stayed where he was.

He ran his hand down my arm and I flinched from his touch, making him quickly pull away.

“Leave.”

I said it again, as firmly as I could muster up.

I felt his breathing hitch as he paused, then felt the bed shift again as he climbed off. The last thing I heard before he climbed out of the window to leave was a solemn, “I’m sorry, Buffy. I love you.”

But even that was too surreal, and I just pretended I imagined it.

Monday, May 30th, 2005

I opened my eyes slowly and reached out to break my radio alarm clock once and for all. But the problem was that after I slammed my hand down on the snooze button, it kept playing. Frowning groggily, I brought my hand down on it again… and again… and again. And the music just kept playing and playing and playing each time.

“What the – “ I turned around and nearly fell off the bed at the sight I saw at my window. There Spike was, strumming his guitar and humming softly. He was crouched under the windowsill and his eyes were closed. He was a sight to behold and I couldn’t help but smile at the contented boyish look on his face, framed with loose blonde curls loosened from their normal gelling as I recalled the first time I ever saw him.

“’Morning, baby,” his voice broke me out of my reverie and my eyes snapped up to lock into his now open ones.

“Spike.”

I sat up and all the memories came rushing back, just like they did every morning. My head spun a little as he got to his feet and made his way over to the bed.

“Sleep well?” he asked me, sitting next to me and raising his hand to stroke my hair. I flinched a little at the contact and he paused, but after a few seconds, he resumed his ministrations and I slowly relaxed.

“Guess so,” I numbly replied, staring at the floor. Then I looked into his face, “you were here last night?”

He furrowed his brow. “You don’t remember?”

“Thought it was a dream,” I looked away. He pulled me closer to him and my head fell onto his shoulder.

“It wasn’t a dream,” he whispered against my hair. “I’m sorry, Buffy. For what I said before… I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.”

I didn’t say anything to that. I didn’t really want to be reminded of that. I just sighed and breathed in his scent, smiling unconsciously as the leather and smoke filled up my senses. He held me tighter and I let him. Finally, I asked him, “Why? Why’d you say it, Spike?”

“I was scared, I guess,” he mumbled and ran his hand up and down my arm. “When I heard, I was hurt that you didn’t tell me – I wasn’t sure if you were going to. And mix that into all the bloody chaos that just jumped into my life… I was confused. When I went to the club, I only meant to have a few beers, but I ended up drinking so much that I convinced myself that you were trying to trick me to stay with you.”

I stiffened at that and tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold on me. “I know, love.. I know you would never do that. I was drunk, my head was playing tricks on me. I wasn’t thinking clearly. It’s no excuse, and I know it.”

“Yeah,” I agreed softly. “It isn’t an excuse. And I’d never do something like that. Not to you.”

He held me for a long moment until I finally pulled away and muttered something about needing to go to school. As I moved around, trying to get ready, he sat there on my bed, watching me. I left the room without looking back at him.

The images of my baby were coming back to me and I couldn’t bear to face him.





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