O’er my Angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.
Troubled, ‘wilder’d, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangled spray,
All heart-broke I heard her say:
‘O, my children! Do they cry?
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see:
Now return to weep for me.’
Pitying, I dropp’d a tear;
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied: ‘What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?
‘I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle’s hum;
Little wandered, hie thee home.’
-William Blake-A Dream
*Oh God, they’ve teleported us to a dimension where nothing exists*
She was too frightened to move; darkness surrounded her, and threatened to suffocate her. She couldn’t tell if her eyes were open, or still closed. Then abruptly as the fear had come it vanished; she was lying on a bed. She sat up and clutched her head, swallowing back a wave of dizziness. She fumbled in the darkness, and then suddenly, light flooded the room. She sighed and slouched back onto the bed staring at the lamp beside her bed.
She slowly got to her feet, and her body began to quake uncontrollably. She clutched her head again and keeled over as the floor beneath her became unsteady. She fell to her knees and began to cry.
She remembered the cemetery, the trio and the flashy light thingy, but instead vivid memories of her and Spike’s trip through time she recalled herself beating the crap out of the trio, ending with Andrew and Jonathan in jail and Warren on the loose. She had come home and gone straight to bed.
She cried harder.
The incident, with Spike…it had all been a dream. The past situations, the turmoil and grief and even the glimpse into the future were fading. She had told him she loved him, and that wasn’t real either.
It was a sharp blow to the pit of her stomach; bitter disappointment weighed her down.
*None of it had been real*
The thought continued to echo her mind. She didn’t understand, they’d been gone weeks, there was no way it was just a dream. At the same time she knew, without a doubt it had been a dream. The details of their adventure were beginning to blur, and although she could recall most of the major events, the smaller things were beginning to evaporate.
She wanted to crawl back between her sheets and try to capture and strands still left of the dream. All that time wishing they were back home, and now all she wanted to do was submerge herself back into that world.
Hugging her knees she tried to calm her tears, but thinking about Spike…just made her cry harder. All the ground they’d covered, wiped away. She had dreamed about saying those words to him, and she had even dreamed treating him like crap. It was almost funny, but not quite.
She pushed back against the bed propping herself up, and then settling on the edge. How could she face him now? What would she say?
*Do I still love him?*
That was a good question.
***
He was drunk; no he was more than drunk he was…
“Bloody hell!”
There was a shattering as he threw the empty bottle of whiskey against the wall.
His dreams were plaguing him; couldn’t get the sodding bitch out of his head, even when he was fast asleep. So he did what he always did, he drank the memories away.
This dream had hit him hard; though he always dreamed about her, this one had been different. His usual dreams put to shame most of the porn making its way across the Internet; always about her, always about sex. He just always assumed he only dreamed about fucking her because he knew that’s all it would ever be between them; he was always thankful they were that way. It was easier waking up from a night of raunchy shagging than to the bitter reality that those heart-warming fantasies were just that, fantasies.
This dream…bloody hell. He shivered, and unscrewed the cap to a full bottle of Jack Daniels and took a deep swallow.
She had been so warm, so…so different from any resemblance of the Buffy he knew. This was the dream he had always dreaded having; the one that gave him hope, and shattered his will completely upon awakening.
He wiped tears from his eyes that had begun to build and swore.
*Wanker*
The real world wasn’t sugar-coated. Buffy despised him, and wanted basically nothing to do with him, not anymore. He stood and began pacing, and a thought hit him.
*Maybe this is what you needed mate, a wakeup call*
He knew nothing would ever change between him and Buffy; at their best moments, the pair were still terrible to each other. Maybe getting past the denial was the first step, and the second would be to leave, for good.
***
Leaning over the tub Buffy sighed. She was so tired; her body was weary and her mind… Just the thought of seeing Spike again made her heart leap, but at the same time made her want to curl up in a ball and cry. He would be the same, cruel and spiteful vampire he had been a few hours earlier.
The water began to spurt out and she let one hand test the temperature before letting out another long sigh.
“You hurt? You're not moving so well.”
She stiffened instantly.
*Oh God, what was he doing here now, in her bathroom?*
Straightening she adjusted her expression, shifting into one of calm indifference and turned to face him.
“Get out.”
*God, be more of a bitch why don’t you?*
Spike ignored her and stepped in the small room, closing the door behind him.
“We have to talk.”
Buffy’s shield of disdain almost crumbled as she stared at him, almost. She swallowed back the desire and longing and looked away. “I really don’t.”
“Well, this isn't just about you...as much you'd like it to be.” His tone was condescending.
She leaned back over the tub squeezing her eyes shut try to push the tears back. It was so hard, looking at him, and knowing he wasn’t the same man from her dream. She wanted to run to him, apologize, and just make everything ok. But this was the real world, and that, would never happen.
“You spoke. I listened. Now leave.” She couldn’t take it; his presence tickled her senses, and she was anything but calm. She hadn’t been ready to face him so soon.
*Face him? It was a DREAM you idiot*
“I'm sorry. Not that it matters any more, but I needed you to know that.”
*Sorry for sleeping with Anya, sorry for not telling you everyday how perfect you are, sorry for pushing you away, sorry for not being able to be the man you deserve.*
The remnants of his dream lingered in the back of his mind as he watched her. When he had entered the bathroom, and she hadn’t physically thrown him out there was a spark of hope. Maybe…just maybe it had been real; maybe…maybe she did love him. But this girl in front of him was cold and angry; this was no dream, this was life.
“Why?” Her voice was soft, and she tried to conceal the desperation in it.
“Because I care about you.”
“Then you might want to try the not sleeping with my friends.” She mentally slapped herself as soon as the words came out; the strands of bitterness from his betrayal still lingered in her mind. She hadn’t wanted it to be like this, she still had the opportunity to fix things. The realization that “they” needed some serious work hadn’t changed; it was just the direction of their relationship she was unclear about.
“I didn't go to Anya for that. I was looking for a spell.”
Her temper flared. “You were going to use a spell on me?”
Then his demeanor changed; a frantic look flashed across his face. “It wasn't for you! I wanted something. Anything to make these feelings stop, I just wanted it to stop!”
The pain in his voice ripped her apart. He looked so hurt and vulnerable. A flashback to her dream hit her; him kneeling on the sidewalk in tears, clutching blood money between his fingers. She had done it again, broken him.
“You should have let him kill me.”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t do that.”
“Why?”
“You know why.” She avoided his intense stare.
*You do, oh you do know Spike; just believe it.*
“Because you love me.” He said his confidently, and the words echoed throughout the small space.
She hesitated, this was her chance. Her chance to redeem herself and to make that dream a reality.
*You’ve already said it twice, say it again…say it again*
“I have feelings for you, I do…”
*Chicken*
Her mind was screaming at her; Spike couldn’t see the inner turmoil that was rampaging through her. How she wanted to tell him, but…
“…but it’s not love.”
He rolled his eyes and laughed wickedly moving closer.
“Great love is wild ... and passionate and dangerous. It burns and consumes.”
“Until there’s nothing left; love like that doesn’t last.” She whispered. Everything she’d been through had taught her that; there was almost pain, grief, and eventually lonliness. She knew it all too well.
He was getting frantic, pacing the room almost dangerously. “I know you feel like I do. You don't have to hide it anymore.” He was raging inside, the dream was clashing with reality, and the lines were blurred. He wanted so much for to admit she cared, admit she loved him. Nothing mattered at this point, he would make her say it, and he would show her how much she really did love him.
A tiny feeling of caution flittered through her brain. Something wasn’t right, and she was started to get a little worried where this conversation would lead them.
“Spike, please stop this.” She whispered.
He stepped forward and grasped her hard by the waist. “Let yourself feel it.”
He was raging inside, the dream was clashing with reality, and the lines were blurred. He wanted so much for to admit she cared, admit she loved him. Nothing mattered at this point, he would make her say it, and he would show her how much she really did love him, no matter what the cost.
A/N:Pumpkin pie with whipped cream (cause I can't eat another bite)
Dialogue taken from S6 "Seeing Red" courtesy of www.buffyworld.com.