The vapid brunette on channel four was warning that a costumed gang was rampaging through Sunnydale, advising the citizenry to stay in their homes and assuring them blandly that the situation was under control.
It was clearly anything but.
The Hellions weren't as tough as they looked. Tasted like shit, but nice wheels. He parked one bike where he could find it later, pocketed the keys, and pointed the other in the direction of the screams.
He found the Scoobies running away from a pile of demon remains. Hard to believe they'd taken them out on their own, but Red was getting mighty powerful. Tara started to say something, but Willow grabbed her and they kept running right past him. He caught of glance of Xander's face; something had them all in a right state.
He cracked his neck to release the tension; no point getting upset over it. The Scoobies kept him in beer and blood and he kept watch over what was left of the Summers’ clan. Suited him just fine.
Summers.
That scent in the air, and he'd told her to stay with her mum. Girl was going to get herself slaughtered running about in the night. He wasn't sure Joyce could stand losing both of them. She was fragile enough with the cancer eating away at her and her oldest in the dirt.
When he recognized where she was headed, his fear doubled. Had the Hellions treed her in that creaking tower? Buggering fuck, why couldn't she stay put? If they hadn't killed her, he just might.
He was hallucinating. Something in the Hellion blood? Had to be.
On top of the tower was a tiny blonde phantom. He had never climbed a ladder so fast and when he reached the top she was already racing toward the edge. He caught at her waist and they both went down hard against the creaking scaffold. She screamed in frustration and tried to yank herself free, but he held fast until she calmed.
She lay panting beside him and pressed dirty, bleeding fists to her eyes.
"Both taken this fall once, Slayer. Let's not do it again."
She blinked up at him and after a long pause her eyes finally seemed to focus. When she spoke her voice was hoarse and shaky. "Is this hell?”
It had to be hell, this harsh place full of fire and fighting and shouting figures that looked like her friends. They'd made a mistake and now They'd corrected it, sent her to this place. She'd thought maybe she could get back if she jumped off the tower again, but they'd sent a demon to stop her, one that looked like her demon, to keep her from escaping.
"No, love," the thing that looked like Spike said, "not hell. Couldn't be hell, not with your mum in it, yeah? You're home, Buffy." She watched as the thing shook, seemingly overcome, like it might cry. "You're home," it whispered.
"Mom?" she asked carefully. "Mom's here?"
He sat up and reached out a hand to pull her up. "Come on, I'll take you to Joyce."
She let him guide her down from the tower and on to the bike. She clung to his jacket and tried to steel herself against the crashing loudness of the engine, the harsh sting of her hair whipping against her face. She followed him cautiously up the walk, certain it was some trick.
But no, there they were, incredibly loud but with soft warm arms that went tight around her. She could feel wet heat against her cheek, her tears or theirs and did it matter and she was home. It was true. She was home.
"Oh Buffy!" Dawn screamed and Buffy shuddered at the noise.
"Careful now, bit, don't startle her," Spike warned quietly. She felt the lights dim and she was able to open her eyes.
"Your poor hands," her mom whispered. "What happened to you?"
She just shook her head and let the three of them half-carry her to the couch.
"Dug herself out of her own grave," Spike told them. "Didn't you, Slayer?"
She nodded and looked away. "How long?" she croaked out.
He took one of her battered hands in his. "147 days. Would have been 148 today, but today doesn't count now, does it?"
It was hard to look at his smile, to look at her family brimming over with happiness. She leaned against her mother’s shoulder and relaxed. “Mommy,” she breathed out and it only hurt for a moment when her mother hugged her close. She was almost asleep when she realized they were asking her questions, and did she need anything.
"Shower," she husked.
Her mother helped her up the stairs, talking the whole time, so quickly she could barely process. She shed her funeral clothes, scrubbed herself until her skin was nearly numb, and wrapped herself in the soft robe on the hook. Her mom's robe. Big and puffy and smelling faintly of mother. Maybe she could just crawl into her mother's bed and sleep, but no, she could heard them downstairs, arguing.
"...didn't tell me. Should have told me."
"Tell me seeing her again wasn't the happiest moment of your whole pathetic existence."
"Willow did this? What if something goes wrong?"
"Nothing is going to go wrong. It worked."
"Magic. There's always consequences, you daft bint."
"Spike, don't leave."
"Was I just supposed to leave her there? In some hell dimension for all eternity? We had to get her out of there!"
"No more yelling! My daughter has been through hell, literally. I won't have any of you upsetting her...."
With a sigh she buttoned up Dawn’s pajama top and slipped the robe back over her. Mom had said something about her own clothes, but she hadn’t really heard. Her room was stripped. A few framed pictures still in their spots, but most of her things were gone. Four months. They’d been trying to move on.
Exiting her room, she saw Spike by the hallway window. He ushered her back into the humid bathroom and lifted her onto the counter. She held out her hands and let him wordlessly wrap them up. In the bright light it was obvious he’d been crying.
She slipped off the counter and grabbed at his arm to fight the sudden onrush of vertigo. In the mirror her frightened reflection snatched at the air. Maybe she shouldn’t be there in the glass either.
From the top of the stairs, she could hear the renewed arguing. "They're all waiting for you," he whispered.
She nodded and descended the stairs into the loving embrace of her friends.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Authors Note: This is my first (posted) Buffy fic. Feedback is treasured. Big thanks to Kar for the beta job.
This story is a response to Shan's challenge (BSV285), which supposes that Joyce survived the fifth season. In our first installment, Spike finds the recomposed Buffy and brings her home.
This story is a response to Shan's challenge (BSV285), which supposes that Joyce survived the fifth season. In our first installment, Spike finds the recomposed Buffy and brings her home.