—Enyos, "Innocence
She'd never known anguish like this. Only a few hours earlier, she'd been happier than she'd ever been before. She'd been free from the burdens of the world and been fully convinced she'd found love.
Now, it was all gone. Shattered. The world weighed heavier on her shoulders than it ever had before, and she knew that love had been no more than an illusion.
How could she go through an eternity of this? Less than a day, and it was already too much.
The answer was simple—she couldn't. Maybe it made her weak, but if she was going to have to be this forever, then she needed to end things. What did it really matter?
She was dead anyway.
Calmly, she rose to her feet and walked towards the ladder, making her way back up to the upper level of the crypt. Her eyes stayed forward, focused on the door, and when her hand grasped the handle, it didn't tremble.
She'd see the sun one last time…
A deep breath into useless lungs, and she stepped out.
It happened so quickly, she didn't register the action until the heavy door slammed shut. She gasped, pulled herself up from the spot Spike had thrown her when he'd pulled her back into the crypt, and ran back for the door. Spike intercepted her this time, grabbing Buffy around the waist and holding her with her arms pinned to the side.
Buffy kicked her legs as he lifted her up and screamed, "Let me go! I want to go out!"
"You can't! It's the middle of the sodding day!" Spike yelled back, tightening his grip on her. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
Buffy screamed again in futile rage, thrashing against his hold as angry tears streamed down her cheeks. Spike's jaw tightened, and he didn't say another word as he brought Buffy back down to their bed.
She didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late and the first manacle was around her wrist. Only a moment later, and the second was in place as well. She struggled and screamed again in frustration.
"I'm sorry, baby," Spike told her, genuine regret in his eyes as he sat down beside her and stroked her cheek. "I don't want to do this, but you're scaring me. I can't let you go out. You'll dust."
"That's what I want!" Buffy yelled, jerking away from him. "I want it to end!"
Spike reared back, blinking. "Buffy, sweetheart, what is this?"
"I'm not your sweetheart," Buffy snapped. "I'm not your anything." Realizing the manacles weren't going to give, even with her superior strength, she slumped, tears in the corners of her eyes as she turned away from Spike.
"Pet, I don't…" Spike started to reach back towards her, but stopped and let his hand drop. His eyes widened, and he stared at her for a moment before he whispered, "Buffy…your soul. They gave you back your soul."
Buffy flinched at his words. "Yes, they did," she admitted softly, her shoulders slumped. She ventured a glance back at him. "So let me go, Spike. You can't possibly want me anymore anyway. Not like this."
"Oh, kitten…" His words, his touch, were so gentle when he reached for her again that Buffy couldn't help but fall against him, letting him cradle her against his chest. She knew this wasn't real—couldn't be real—but she needed it all the same.
"We can fix it, pet," Spike said, his cheek resting against her hair. "This can be undone. How did Angel lose his?"
Buffy swallowed. "He…I…" She paused, gulped in air. "We had sex. It's…it's a moment of happiness that breaks the curse. We loved each other, so when we had sex…" She trailed off, unable to say anymore.
Spike stiffened, though he didn't release her from his embrace. "And when we had sex…"
"It didn't go away," Buffy finished, letting the unspoken we're not in love hang between them.
His lips pressed against her hair, breathing her in for a moment before he whispered, "I love you, Buffy."
With a shake of her head, Buffy replied, "You can't."
"No, pet, I do. I…"
Buffy pushed away from him and scooted towards the headboard, curling up against it with her hands still chained. "Just go."
Spike reached for her again, and she flinched. With a heavy sigh, he walked away.
Buffy didn't move from her place on the bed. She could hear Spike moving throughout the crypt, but she didn't look at him, and he didn't go to her. Not until nightfall, when he finally released her from the manacles. She rubbed her wrists for a moment, but still didn't move.
"Are you hungry, kitten?"
At Spike's question, Buffy whipped her head around and glared at him. "How dare you ask me that? You want me to kill someone else? Do you have any idea how I feel right now? Oh, that's right, you can't."
Spike's fists clinched at his sides, the muscles in his jaw ticking. He wanted to yell, to shake her, but he reigned in his frustration. He had put up with much worse from Dru and her mood swings. Besides, Buffy had to be hurting, and for that, he was hurting, too.
"I know you don't want to kill anyone, Buffy. I heard enough of Angelus's bitching to know how this soul thing works. I was offering to get something for you."
"So, what, you think I'll be okay with it if I know you're the one that did the murdering?"
Spike let out a heavy sigh. "No. I meant from the sodding butcher. Isn't that what Angel drank? Pig's blood?"
Buffy blinked, her anger with Spike quickly replaced by confusion. "What…what are you doing?"
"Taking care of you. Do I need to chain you back up while I go get dinner?"
"No," Buffy replied with a shake of her head before sinking back against the bed.
Spike ghosted his hand against her hair. "I'll be back soon, lamb. Just don't want things getting worse because you're weak from hunger."
Buffy merely nodded, Spike's warmth and concern shocking her. There had to be more to this. Why didn't he want her gone? Why had he prevented her from going out into the sun instead of kicking her out? She knew what other vampires thought of souls—shouldn't she be tainted to him now?
After he left the crypt, Buffy decided he wasn't going to come back. He'd probably been afraid she'd turn clingy and beg him not to leave her alone, so he'd come up with a ruse to get himself away from her. No vampire would want to be tied down to her, especially one as ruthless as Spike.
He wouldn't come back, and she'd see the sunrise.
So when she felt the bed dip and turned to see Spike handing her a mug of blood, Buffy was surprised. "Why did you come back?" she asked him softly.
"Couldn't leave you, pet. You need someone to take care of you right now, and I know a little something about taking care of people, yeah? Now drink, sweets."
Her hands trembling, Buffy took the mug and raised it to her lips. Her nose wrinkled in distaste, yet she drank anyway.
"Ugh. I guess this swill is an acquired taste."
Buffy frowned at Spike's statement, realizing she wasn't the only one making do with pig's blood that evening. "Why are you drinking it, too?" she asked.
"Would it upset you if I went out and fed, then came back to join you in our bed?" Buffy's flinch was the only answer Spike needed, and he continued. "Look, I don't know how to handle this myself, but right now, I don't want to make things worse for you. You're hurting, sweetheart, and that is more of a problem for me than I think you realize. So if I have to settle for this until we suss it all out, then I will."
Buffy swallowed with difficulty, forcing the pig's blood down her throat. "I don't understand why you're doing this."
"Because I love you, sweetheart. You can believe it or not, but I do. You scared me this morning when you ran, made me think of how it would be if I lost you now. I spent over a century searching for you, Buffy, and I'll be damned all over again if I toss it all away in a blink."
"I'm not that girl you think you love anymore, Spike," Buffy said, her eyes trained on the inside of her now-empty mug. "I can't be, not like this."
"Yeah, pet, you are." Spike set his own mug down before he reached out and took hers. Then, he lifted her up and tucked her in under the covers. "Just rest, kitten," he told her with a kissed brushed against her forehead. "It's early, yeah, but I can tell you're exhausted."
Unshed tears sat in her eyes, his unexpected kindness cutting her now that she knew there could be no real love behind it. The soul forced inside of her pounded inside her chest, threatening to smother her.
"I killed them."
"I know, Buffy. Just rest now."
"They're still screaming, Spike. I can hear them. They're so loud." She whimpered, her hand going up to cover her ear.
"Shh… No, baby. It's quiet here. Just you an' me, lamb." Spike moved her hand away from her ear and stroked her hair. "Just sleep now. You need to sleep."
Buffy whimpered again, but her eyes closed, and it wasn't long until Spike knew she was indeed asleep. He pulled his hand away from her, cold fear rushing through him as he finally let the situation settle onto him.
What were they going to do now?
The sound of Buffy's tears woke Spike. She was huddled in a ball, shaking, and Spike reached for her, his hand resting gently against her cool flesh.
Buffy jerked, sliding out of his reach, and Spike didn't move to bring her back. Listening to her cry in the dark, he felt so helpless.
He'd been telling the truth when he'd told her how much watching her dash towards the sun had scared him. He knew they had spent only a short time together, especially given the number of years he'd been in the world, but she'd touched him in a way no other woman ever had. She'd shown him what it was to be loved.
Spike knew he could've lost that now. Her vehemence against his own declarations of love told him that much. Despite common misconceptions, he was far from a stupid man, and he knew everything had changed for them in an instant. She couldn't be the sort of partner for him she'd been in the days since she'd put an end to Angelus.
Yet she was still Buffy. Soul or no soul behind them, those were still the eyes that looked upon him as if he was truly everything to her. He couldn't turn his back on her, not when she needed him. He owed it to her to stand by her after what she'd given him, even if he'd lost her love forever.
So he'd do what he could to keep her calm, keep her from running towards the sun again. All he could do now was take it one moment at a time, and Spike had reverted to his behavior from when Dru was at her worst. He knew the situation was different, but she was still volatile now, just as his sire had been, and he could deal with that aspect of it at least. Maybe, in time, she'd get over the initial shock of having her soul returned, and they could move on from there.
Until then, he'd have to tread softly.
Her tears dug into his unbeating heart, and Spike was unable to keep himself from moving to her and pulling her into his arms. She thrashed against him, trying to escape his embrace, but Spike didn't let her go.
"Shh…easy now, pet. It's just you an' me here. This doesn't have to mean anything except you need someone to hold you, and I've got two arms, yeah?"
Buffy's struggles ceased, and Spike held on to her tighter.
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