A/N: Sorry, it's been a while. Thanks for all the great reviews so far. Enjoy and review!

I'm your man; I'm trying to recover the sweet love that we knew
You understand that my heart can't go on beating without you
Well, your loveliness has wounded me, I'm reeling from the blow
I wish I knew what it was keeps me loving you so
I'm breathing hard, standing at the gate
But I don't know how much longer I can wait
-Bob Dylan, "Can't Wait"

Spike wasn't sure when he started doing it. Ever since his conversation with Buffy the week before, he'd been a little lost. The next morning she'd called him early, too early for her at least. It was around four in the morning her time. He was awake, but he couldn't stand to talk to her, he didn't want to hear the rejection again. He really didn't want to hear her say that she'd been up all night thinking and now she was ready to tell him it was over.

Since that night he hadn't talked to her directly. He avoided her calls and only dialed her number when he knew she wouldn't be able to answer. He left her messages, a lot of messages. He told her about his day, he told her about his sessions with Fred, and he told her that he loved her.

He figured that he could at least pretend she listened to the messages and cared, that she actually wanted to hear his voice. He didn't want to find out whether that was true, though.

The part of him that called Buffy and left her messages was the same part of him that went to Fred every day and talked about what he needed to change. That part was making progress, reading more, drinking and smoking less, and trying to work on things so that he could really be the man he could be if he tried.

The other part of him was the part that wouldn't let him call Buffy when she'd be around. It was the part that kept the liquor well-stocked for emergencies, and kept him from buying the patch.

It was the part that led him up to the attic every morning.

When it started, he wasn't even aware of it. He'd get out of bed and wander a bit aimlessly while the coffee brewed. Eventually, he'd end up sitting across from the stack of boxes that could decide his fate. He couldn't tell how close he'd come to stepping forward and taking what he wanted. It fluctuated every day. He could have a great session with Fred on a Tuesday, come home feeling refreshed, leave Buffy a great and hopeful message, even apologize for not being able to get hold of her, then Wednesday morning he'd wake up feeling like everything was falling apart. It could be a dream, it could be just getting up on the wrong side of the bed, but on those days it took every ounce of willpower just to look.

Today, he wasn't close to the stack, but he'd been up there for quite a while. His fingers itched to reach out and just touch it, but he stilled his hands. The smell of coffee made its way to him and he shook his head before walking downstairs and pouring himself a cup.

***

"Mr. Giles is here, Dr. Burkle."

"Thanks, have him come in."

Spike smiled at the receptionist before stepping into Fred's office and closing the door.

"Spike, how are you today?"

"Better every day I s'pose." He slumped into a chair and took out a cigarette.

"You don't sound so convinced."

He shrugged and was silent. Fred realized that he had something on his mind and she allowed him the time to formulate his question. "Is it... I know this may sound stupid..." He slid the cigarette above his ear and sat back. "When I feel really good, when things are going well and I feel like I might be close to going home, that's when I want it the most. 'S like I'm just hoping to throw it all away. What the hell is wrong with me?"

The longer he'd gone on, the louder and more agitated he'd become. Fred saw in that moment that a lot of what they'd believed to have accomplished hadn't really been there. He was almost in the same place he'd been when he'd first walked through her doors. She could see why he was getting frustrated.

"Hold on for a minute, Spike. Take a deep breath and let's work this out. You've got to stop doing this to yourself, you can't keep thinking that you're the only person who's ever felt this way. People have done a lot more to sabotage their own lives than you have, trust me."

Spike took a breath and nodded, he rubbed his hands through his hair and sighed. "Yeah, ok, guess I just got a little scared this morning."

"Let's start there, what happened this morning?"

"I just, it's nothing... I-"

"Spike," Fred reached across and took his hand and Spike squeezed his eyes closed, he hadn't so much as touched another human being since Fred took his hand their first meeting so long ago. "You've got to stop worrying I'm going to judge you. Tell me."

"I've been lying to you."

"Ok. What about?"

Spike covered their hands with his free one, desperate to keep her there. "The first day, when I got here... I found something that I'd forgotten about."

Fred nodded for him to continue and squeezed his hand again. "It's ok."

"Every morning I'm wondering if it's the day I finally go upstairs and cook up whatever heroin is left. I thought maybe I could keep it just to test myself, but I go up there, and I stare at it, I want it so badly that it's all I can think about when I'm in the house. Fucking hell, Fred, I didn't want to lie to you, but until today I didn't really realize what I was doing to myself."

When she was silent for a moment, Spike began to panic. "I'm getting rid of it, I swear to you, I won't do this again. I can't.. Fred pl-"

"Shh, Spike, it's ok. I was just thinking about something." She looked at her watch and stood up, still holding his hand. "Let's go now, I want you to get rid of this before you make a mistake. I see you trying, Spike, but nothing is ever going to change until you do this. You've got to get rid of it."

Spike swallowed and nodded. "Alright, let's go."

***

Spike hugged Fred and walked her to her car. They made plans for an earlier and longer session the next day in case Spike was feeling a little nervous about being alone. She reminded him of her number and he thanked her again before she drove off.

When Spike got back into the house he noticed his hands were shaking. He glanced at the clock.

Four-thirty.

He shrugged. Close enough to five, he figured.

He made his way to the liquor cabinet and tried to decide on something to calm his nerves. Just a drink or two would calm him down. Then maybe he could start writing.

He'd been trying to get back into writing since he'd come back to Woodstock. Without anything else to distract him, he'd gotten a lot more done than he had back in California. He was thinking about trying to write a novel. The few times he'd started before something had come up to stop him.

Well, Dru really. But she was better and pretty much out of his life, and he had a lot to look forward to. He was ready to start new, he'd get back on track with school, he'd back with Buffy, and he'd stop using his friends as emotional crutches.

Fred had told him he needed to stop seeing Tara, Anya, and Xander as purely the givers and receivers of comfort. He needed to think about the fun they had together, as well as all the things they shared in a non-sexual, non-painful way.

In other words, he needed to attempt a healthy relationship with them.

He poured himself a tumbler full of bourbon. It was a bit more than he'd originally planned, but it couldn't hurt. He checked his watch again and remembered that he had planned to call Buffy before five. She'd be in class still, and he'd have a chance to leave her a message without her actually picking up.

He walked back to his room and set his glass down on his bedside table before picking up the phone. As he did every time before calling, he took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves.

After a few rings her voicemail came on and he sighed in relief. "Buffy, it's me. Sorry we haven't been able to catch each other, I've been really busy with Fred and things around the house. I did something today that I think is really going to help. Umm... I've got some things to tell you. I should have told you when we started but I couldn't make myself do it." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, he hadn't meant to say so much. "I want to talk to you tonight. I'll be round, if you can, please call, Buffy." He sighed again. "I miss you, and I love you. I'll talk to you later."

He pressed the "end" button and lay back onto his bed. He glanced up and saw the tumbler full of amber liquid and he realized that he might need a bit more to be ready for his conversation with Buffy.

He downed the glass quickly and on his way to get more he thought that maybe being tipsy or even drunk was probably the worst condition to be in when she called, but he really couldn't face her sober. Without this drink, he was sure he wouldn't even pick up the phone.

He sighed as he filled his glass and stared at it for a moment before bringing it to his lips.

***

Buffy had been much more relaxed since she told everyone about Spike. At first Anya and Xander were angry and had stormed out of the house, not returning until that night. Tara and Willow had understood and assured her that they would have done the same thing.

It didn't make Buffy fell any better about lying to them, but soon Anya and Xander conceded that they were more angry at Spike, and couldn't really blame Buffy at all.

Everyone had gone back to more or less their old routine. There were still awkward moments when Spike entered the conversation. Buffy didn't miss the longing looks the others cast at his place at the dinner table, or at his room.

Buffy was casting a lot of longing looks herself.

She hadn't talked to him for far too long. She had a sneaking suspicion he'd been avoiding her calls, but he always claimed in his messages that he wanted to speak with her. She knew that if he was indeed avoiding her, it would be because of her hesitation the last time they'd talked.

She'd stayed up all night trying to think of a way to smooth things over with him without it turning into a fight or making either of them feel worse about everything. Finally, she'd just decided to tell him the truth. She didn't know why she hadn't said something immediately, but it was eating away at her. She did love him, she loved him almost too much sometimes. She'd just never been good with expressing it all that well. Spike was the first boyfriend she'd had that she'd talked so much about "feelings" with.

She might have been emotionally stunted in a way, but even through that she knew that what she felt for Spike was something she'd never felt for another person, and she couldn't imagine ever feeling that way about anyone afterward.

She was ecstatic when she heard he wanted her to call. He'd never made the request before, she was pretty certain he liked the way things were now to some degree, even if he couldn't admit it. But now he'd actually asked, and she wasn't about to let that opportunity go to waste.

She said goodnight to everyone early and locked her door. The more she thought about his message, the more worried she became about what he had to tell her. He didn't seem excited about it, but he did say he was getting closer to coming home. That was good at least.

She shook her head to stop worrying about it and just get on with calling him and picked up her phone.

She was worried he wasn't going to answer when a few rings went by. She resigned herself to leaving another message when he finally picked up.

"Buffy, luv, hey."

She sighed and smiled. "Spike, God, it's so good to talk to you."

Spike let out a shaky breath and smiled. "Yeah, baby, it's very good. I've missed you."

"Spike, I... I have to tell you, last time we talked-"

"Buffy, you don't-"

"No, Spike, I love you, I'm so sorry, I do love you. I don't know what happened-"

She stopped when she heard Spike let out a choked sob.

"Spike?"

"Jesus, Buffy, I was so... God I thought, I don't know..." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "You should have waited to tell me that until you were sure you meant it."

"Spike.. what are you talking about?"

He sighed shakily again and took another drink, this time out of the bottle. "Gotta tell you something, luv."

She wondered if he was drinking, he sounded a little shaky, and she thought maybe she heard the sloshing of liquid in a bottle. "I'm sure we'll get through it, baby, just tell me."

This time Buffy was positive he was drinking. She didn't know what to feel about it, maybe he needed a little liquid courage to get up the nerve to tell her whatever it was he was about to say. But couldn't he trust her enough to do it sober.

"Buffy?"

She realized that he'd been talking while she'd spaced out and shook her head. "Sorry, just thinking, tell me."

Spike swallowed and let out a breath. "I told you that I had been off drugs. And I am, I mean, I don't do anything illegal anymore, and I don't exactly abuse anything."

Buffy didn't have any clue what he was saying. "Spike, what are you talking about?"

"You ever heard of methadone?"

It rang a distant bell in Buffy's mind, but she couldn't place it. "I don't know."

"People that... well drug users, they try to get off, but if they can't... What I mean is, the withdrawals, luv, it's a pain that you just can't know, and I couldn't... I was too weak, baby, I couldn't do it completely."

Suddenly it became a bit clearer to Buffy. "That medicine, in the mornings?"

"Yeah." His voice was rough and she heard the bottle slosh again.

"Spike, I-"

"You don't have to say it, I know, I lied and this is the last nail in the bloody coffin. Just.. don't make me hear you say it." He rubbed his hand over his eyes and it came away wet. "Fuck, I never meant to hurt you. Let's just... say goodbye. If you... I think I might come out here. To stay. Won't be awkward there for you. And-"

"Spike, shut-up." Buffy sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. "Do you really want to stay there?"

"Luv, I can't do this anymore. I'm fucking with both of us, it doesn't work, I love you too much to-"

"Don't leave me."

Spike was shocked by the emotion in her voice. He was silent for a moment and he heard her sniffle across the line. "Buffy?"

"Spike, I don't care about it. I don't, I hate this too. I hate it so much that I want it to stop, but the way I envision that happening is you coming home. I don't want to be apart anymore."

"You deserve-"

"I don't want to hear it, don't you dare finish that sentence. When will you finally realize that I don't care about what you or anyone else thinks I deserve. I want you, I love you, and I'm not settling for anything less."

"Buffy..." Spike leaned his head against the wall and let the tears fall that he'd been holding in. "We can't keep this up."

"No, we really can't." She heard him raise the bottle and it only made her more upset. "Spike, don't drink anymore, please."

The softness of her voice, the way she let her hurt shine through tore into Spike's heart. "Nothin's working here."

"Spike," she pleaded, she couldn't stand the sound of his hopelessness. "Hold on for me."

"I don't know. I stop drinking, it hurts, I keep drinking, it hurts. I give up drugs, I just get back on another. It's like I can't ever be happy. The only time I feel good is when I'm inside you, when I feel you all around me and I know you love me enough to stay."

"I'm coming there."

"Buffy, there's no bloody point. You'll just miss classes."

"Spike, you need help, you need someone to be there. Being away from each other, I think it did us some good, gave us some perspective, but I don't want to be away from you anymore. I don't want to put this extra stress on you. I'm coming, don't argue with me."

Spike didn't answer, but picked up the bottle absentmindedly and put away the rest of the liquid. Buffy grabbed her laptop and found the next flight to New York.

"I'm going to be there in the morning, baby. I think you should get some rest. You're not thinking clearly."

Spike nodded and lay on the floor. "I miss you, Buffy. God, I miss you so much."

"I'm coming, please go to sleep, Spike."

She stayed on the line with him for a while longer as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Finally, she heard his breathing slow and she hung up. She threw a few things in a bag and ran up to Tara and Willow's room.

"Tara?!"

There were muffled sounds inside and finally a sleep Tara peeked her head out. "Buffy?"

"Listen, I don't have any time. I'm going to Spike. I don't know when I'm coming home. Can you talk to my professors. Tell them I have an emergency, I'm hurt, whatever, but I have to go."

"I know, it's ok, I'll work something out. Is something wrong?"

"I don't know, he's just not getting the right help. He sits in the house all day, the only time he goes out is to see this psychiatrist. He needs someone around to make him actually live."

"He's got too much time to think, that was never good with Will. He'll think himself into a corner and never get out."

Buffy nodded, getting more and more worried. If he woke up and drank more before she got there, she had no idea what he'd do. "I've got to go."

"I know, I'll tell everyone, good luck."

"Thanks."

"If you ever need anything, Buffy, you can always get in contact with me."

"I know, thanks." Buffy leaned over and kissed her cheek before running to her car.