For a brief moment, time stood still as Faith’s body laid motionless in the center of the diagram. Frozen with shock, Buffy’s body refused to move forward and her eyes were wide open as she stared at the pooling crimson blood seeping from the fallen girl. “Oh, God…no.” She whispered, her words spoken too softly for anyone else to hear, as the realization of what was to come sank in. Lifting her head, she averted her liquid filled eyes from her departed former lover to the spot where Spike was located; warrior stance still firmly in place and the mystical scythe forged especially for him grasped tightly in his hands.
It seemed as though the moment their gazes connected the world began to fall apart. The worn floor rumbled and churned with ferocity beneath their feet, plaster and paint crumbled to the ground as the cement block walls shook violently. From the apex of the room, where Faith’s lifeless body was now drained of blood, the floor beneath her undulated with the pressure from the opening portal and small pieces of the chalk outline crumbled and fell into the abyss below. Suddenly, intense bursts of light shone through the cracks in the floor, illuminating the ceiling above as the center of the floor began to give way.
Knowing that time was running out, Buffy mustered up the courage to do what had to be done. Gazing intently at Spike, she kept eye contact with the confused Slayer and carefully crept towards him. On the outside, her face was a calm mask of resolution, but on the inside her heart was breaking and quivering with terror and anxiety. Somehow, she managed to put one foot in front of the other with a determined pace until finally she was in his arms. Strong and capable, his embrace was comforting and for a moment she allowed her mind to wander into a delusional place of safety; that the world was no longer crumbling away and they were protected in one another’s arms.
With tears falling freely, spilling over her cheeks with audible sobs of distress wracking her tiny frame, Buffy broke eye contact with Spike and buried her fangs deeply into his neck. Her demon soared with delight as the first wave of potent blood flowed into her mouth and slipped deliciously down her throat, but rebelled at the thought of killing the person it considered to be its mate. Quickly, she drank and filled her body with his blood, only stopping as his heart slowed to a near death pace.
Crying in earnest, her heart cracked as Spike’s weakened body stilled in her arms, his whispered pleas of wonderment resounded in her ears as she carefully lowered him to the floor. Leaning over, cold tears slipped from her cheeks and landed softly against his paling face as she covered his lush lips with a bloodstained kiss of goodbye. "I'm sorry, my love."
Standing up, Buffy wiped her face before turning around in search of the others and was not surprised when face with angry glares and raised weapons. “You knew it would have to be done, Watcher.” She stated; her watery eyes trained on the only person in the room that wasn’t fuming with hatred towards her. With sad eyes, the grief stricken Watcher glanced towards his fallen Slayer and nodded his head in Buffy’s direction; a silent acknowledgement to her words. “Just make sure he knows, ok?” She choked out before turning on one heel to face the almost fully open portal.
Without a single glance backwards, Buffy darted forward towards her target; the Slayer’s blood sang inside her veins, humming along at an alarming swift pace as its mystical powers fueled her body with accentuated power. Blindingly fast, she catapulted over the ceremonial alter, barely placing one foot on the crackling marble as she bounded over it to the desired destination. With her arms spread out to each side, she sprang forward in a swan dive; falling gracefully into the swirling gateway.
As soon as her body disappeared into the radiating light, there was an audible pop and suddenly…the destruction stopped. In an instant, the deteriorating room was filled with an eerily calm silence; the room no longer resonating with the booming sounds of obliteration. Stunned by the change in events, the seven warriors who remained standing stood in shock.
Jumping to attention, Rupert pushed past Wesley, who had been holding him back since Buffy’s attack on Spike. Kneeling next to his son, he checked for a pulse and felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders as relief soared through his body when presented with a faint pulse. Standing up, he instantly began barking orders, “Angel. Gunn, both of you take Spike to the hospital immediately. Girls, why don’t you go with them? I need to discuss something with Wesley and deal with cleaning up the evidence of what happened tonight.”
As soon as the others disappeared from his sight, Rupert turned towards Wesley with a grim stare. Before the words that were on the tip of his tongue could tumble out, the ashen Watcher held up his hand and resolutely stated, “It had to been done, Rupert. You and I both know it, we knew there was chance that tonight would come to this, but for now…we have work to do.” Without waiting for a response, Wesley headed towards the center of the room and prepared for the final stage; a silenced Rupert following in his wake.
Hours passed excruciatingly slow as they waited for Spike to wake. As the minutes ticked away sluggishly, the days melted into nights until a week had passed and still no response from their fallen leader. Eventually, they all had to return to their normal lives; disappearing to their respective homes, jobs and classes. One by one they trickled in to visit once a day for a quick visit and update, with only Rupert spending his nights there holed up in the darkened room with his motionless son and the ever present sounds of the hospital.
It was on one dark and stormy night two weeks after the dreadful fight that Rupert was jarred from a fitful sleep by the shrill sound of an alarm. Jolted out of the appalling chair that he had called home for so many nights, he was in the midst of gathering his wits just as two nurses barreled into the room; pushing him aside as they tended to their ward. Suddenly, the room was awash with blinding bright luminosity as the overhead light was switched one; blinking furiously, Rupert searched for his glasses and was knocked aside as the doctor bustled into the room. Confused and more than a little bit irritated, Rupert settled the glasses on his nose and opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the most wonderful sound in the world.
“Dad?” Spike croaked; his throat dry and scratchy from days of nonuse. Peering around the medical staff, avoiding their incessant pokes and questions, he held out his hand towards his sniffling father and motioned for him to come over.
“Mr. Giles, I think it’d be best if you step outside for a moment.” Dr. Bartlett advised, motioning for Rupert to leave. “We need to assess your son’s condition…”
“No, I need to talk to my father…you can bloody well poke and prod me as much as you want, but afterwards.” Spike growled as he attempted to pull himself upwards to a sitting position, but failed miserably as his weakened body refused to cooperate. When the doctor opened his mouth to protest, Spike snarled in his direction and said, “Sod off!”
“William, that’s enough. There’s no sense in being rude, they’ve done quite enough taking care of you and I think you could at least show some respect.” Giles’s advised, as he stepped aside to let the doctor resume his place near the bed. “Now, I’m going to make some phone calls and let everyone know you’re awake while the doctor makes sure everything is quite all right with you.”
Confused and overwhelmed by the despairing sense of bitterness and betrayal, he sighed in defeat and nodded towards his father. “Whatever, I’ll play the prodigal patient…Just as long as you’re ready to explain things to me when you get back.”
“Of course, son.” Rupert conceded as he disappeared into the hallway. Leaning against the cool tile wall, he closed his weary eyes and muttered, “So long as someone bloody well explains it to me.” Sighing, he pushed off the wall and headed down the hallway towards the nurse’s station to begin the lengthy process of advising everyone of Spike’s latest status.
Half an hour later, after numerous calls and a report from the doctor, Rupert let himself back into Spike’s room, pleased to find his son had been maneuvered into a reclined position and resting. “Well, I hear you’re expected to make a full recovery.”
“Quit stalling, Dad.” Spike replied harshly, his eyes blazing with hurt and uncertainty. “How in the hell are we still here? What happened back there? Why…why did she…God, Buffy?!” Sobs wracked his body as he desperately tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.
Perching on the edge of his bed, Rupert reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled envelope. “There were things that happened that night that you weren’t aware of…information that we had found out prior to the ceremony…that we kept from everyone, really. We thought it was for the best, Spike. You see, Andrew found an ancient text that mentioned the only way to close the portal would be if the Slayer’s blood passed over the threshold, which would have meant your death. When Buffy found out, she concocted this harebrained strategy for her to take you place if the need arose. I, of course, refused to accept her plan or the entire possibility that there might be a chance that we would have to resort to such…drastic measures.” Glancing down at the lilac paper in his shaking hands, he sighed as he laid it in his son’s lap. “She left this for you; I found it on your pillow in the bedroom the next afternoon. She must have intended to go against our wishes from the beginning. Anyway, here…you should read this first, I’m sure you’ll have more questions afterwards.” Standing up, Rupert handed Spike the letter and headed towards the door. “I was wrong about her, son. She truly loved you and I was too blinded by hate to see that. I am sorry for your loss.”
Rupert stared at his son, the saddened expression on his handsome face, the defeat and despair that shaped his existence as he slumped in the bed with the envelope clutched in his hands. As he exited into the deserted hallway, Buffy’s words filled his mind and soul and he knew that his actions towards her would haunt him mercilessly. Sliding down into a nearby chair, he let his head fall forward into awaiting hands as he thought back to the night of Andrew’s discovery.
“Absolutely not! What you’re saying is completely preposterous and I’ll have nothing to do with it!” He had shouted when presented with the research. “This is just her insane attempt to pay a hand in my son’s death! Why can’t you see that, Wesley?!”
“I love Spike, and if you can’t see that…then you’re just an idiot! If I wanted him dead, then I would have done it back in the alley years ago when he was practically begging for it!” Buffy had shouted, jumping up with such force that the wooden chair she had been perched upon had clattered backwards. “Are you so willing to prove me wrong that you’ll let your son die? Force him to sacrifice himself to save the world when I am more than willing to do it for him?! What’s wrong with you?”
“And just how do you propose you step in for him? It’s not like you can just assume the role of Slayer?” He asked, turning on the approaching vampire.
“It’s not his body that makes him what he is; it’s his blood that holds his power…the key. It’s always about blood.” Buffy stated, hands on her hips. “If you’ll just sit down, we’ll explain it one more time. Don’t let your hatred for me let your son die.”
Back inside the room, Spike gave in, tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. With slouched shoulders and tears on his face, he began to read the final note from the woman who had sacrificed herself to save him.
My Dearest William,
If you’re reading this letter, then that means our plans have been shot to hell and I am gone. I hope your father has taken the time to explain what happened tonight, that you aren’t sitting in a bed thinking that I stabbed you in the back and most importantly, that you can forgive me someday.
I know that going behind your back was wrong, but you would have refused to accept my plan because that’s your nature. You are the Slayer and it’s your duty to protect the innocent and be all high and mighty, and very stubborn. I couldn’t sit by and think that it would be because of your death that the world as we know it remained unharmed.
No matter how much I love you, how much just being with you overt the past couple of weeks made my miserable existence worthwhile. You deserve to have a normal life. You deserve to have sunlight and happiness, a life with picket fences and children and not in the shadows with death, the only life I could give you.
You are my light, my existence, my savior. I love you with all that I have, with all that I am. Please, I hope one day you will be able to forgive me for my deceit. I love you and will always remember you.
With all my heart,
Buffy
TBC...
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Here it is...the next to last chapter. Hope this clears up most of your questions, there are still a few things to explain but that will come in the final chappie. Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews to those of you who are still with me. It means the world to me that some of you are still reading. Thanks again!