“Ok, lemme see if I’ve got it right.” Angel started slowly, his hand held out to tick off the list with his fingers. “Either Willow or one of her minions stole the stuff from Wesley’s apartment because it was found near the alter; your Dad burned the whole place to the ground to cover up what happened and Buffy drank your blood and did a swan dive into the portal to save the world and is now trapped in a hell dimension to be punished for all eternity. That about cover everything?”
“In a nutshell.” Spike replied dryly, “Dad and Wesley figured that it’d be best all around to get rid of any evidence.”
“But what about Faith’s family? Don’t you think they’d want to bury her or something?” “I mean, shouldn’t we have contacted someone?” Fred interjected nervously, tilting her head downwards to avoid the glares from her friends. She felt bad that Faith was left to burn in an abandoned warehouse and not properly buried. Sometimes she hated being the only female present because it seemed like she was the only one that was sympathetic towards other people. Generally, Spike rescued her when she felt like this, knowing she felt awkward in situations such as this. Peering up at him through a thick layer of brunette locks, tears pricked her eyes as she took in the look of utter hatred and anger that radiated from him.
“From what little Buffy told me about Faith, she didn’t have anyone…other than Buffy. Which explains why she was so obsessed and refused to let go, yeah?” Shrugging his shoulders, Spike poked at the unidentifiable meat on his dinner tray before pushing it aside. “Might be a bit coldhearted, but the chit got exactly what she deserved. Hope every bleeding second that she laid on that pentagram was sheer pain for her.”
“I’m with you man.” Gunn announced, he’d been unusually quite throughout the entire conversation not knowing exactly what to say about the whole ordeal, but he shared Spike’s feelings on the outcome. “Hell, if she’d never come along then we’d never been in this mess.”
“Willow would have just found someone else, Charles, don’t you think? She was way more determined than Faith.” Fred argued even though she knew it was useless. The boys had found their scapegoat and were off and running with it. Leaning back in her seat, Fred halfway listened to Angel and Gunn bicker about last night’s events and focused her attention on Spike, who had slumped further down in his bed with a dejected look on his face.
After several minutes, she noticed that Spike’s demeanor had went from one of emotional pain to that of physical pain, making a quick decision she spoke up, “Wow, we’ve gone way past visiting hours, wonder why the nurse hasn’t kicked us out yet? We should probably go before we get in trouble.”
“Yeah, you’re right, Fred.” Angel agreed after catching the pointed look the petite brunette passed his way. Looking back at Spike, he too noticed the Spike’s complexion was paler than usually and briefly wondered how that was possible since the Brit was never famous for spending much time in the sun. Chalking it up to stress, he stood up from his spot on the bed and said, “We’ll come back in the morning, ok?”
Goodbyes were given all around before the trio slipped quietly out the door and ambled down the hallway towards the elevator. Just before stepping inside, Fred realized something. “I forgot my purse! You guys go on ahead, ok?” Jumping off the elevator before her two towering companions could object, Fred took off in gallop towards Spike’s room.
Gently easing the door open, she cautiously poked her head inside before entering, “Spike? I forgot my purse.” Not hearing a response, she figured he’d fallen asleep and quietly slipped into the room totally unprepared for what it held inside. Laying in a ball, the strongest male figure in her life was sobbing his heart out; a sight that she’d never seen before. Sure, his eyes had glistened over on more than one occasion, but this complete emotional breakdown was a shock to Fred’s system. Instantly kicking into mother hen mode, she rushed to the bed and pulled him into her arms.
Nothing was said while Spike cried; there was silence in the room other than the brokenhearted sobs that echoed in the alabaster room and Fred’s heart wrenched at the sound. With a feather light caress, she stroked his disheveled locks and waited for the tears to stop. Noticing movement from the corner of her eye, she looked over and saw that Angel had reappeared, no doubt in search of her. Shaking her head slightly, Fred sent him away and prepared to spend the night taking care of Spike.
A hour and a half later, Spike’s tears finally slowed down and he spoke. “She didn’t even give me the chance to change things…I could have figured out a way to stop it. To do something else! Why…why didn’t she come to me?”
Wiping her own eyes, Fred pushed away the moisture that had seeped out and were clinging to her eyelashes. “I guess because she knew you’d step in, Spike…that you’d take over and end up being the one to die. I’d have done the same thing for someone I loved, risk my life over theirs. That’s just what you do.
“You know, I was wrong about Buffy. I just always saw her as the girl who stole you from me, that ruined my chances. It wasn’t like that at all, was it? She really loved you, Spike. Which is astounding in itself, since she was supposed to be evil and all…I mean, your love changed her.” Sniffling, she paused briefly to swipe her arm across her face again and took a calming breath. “She sacrificed herself to save you, to give you life. She really was kinda great and I never took the chance to get to know her.”
“But how’d she expect me to just live my life knowing that because of me she’s suffering now? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” Spike sobbed, slipping further down in Fred’s embrace until his head was resting on her stomach. “I miss her so much, Fred.”
Helplessly, Fred listened to Spike’s whispered sobs as he poured out his heart, knowing that there was nothing more that she could do to ease his pain. Holding him in her arms, she closed her eyes and waited for the next break in his tears.
The sun was creeping in through the blinds when Spike stirred in her arms and roused her out of a restless sleep. Scrubbing her face with her hands, Fred looked down at her friend who was doing the same in attempts to wipe away the tears that now stained his cheeks.
“Good morning.”
“Morning, sweets.” He replied sheepishly, embarrassed that his emotions had bubbled to the surface and spilled over onto Fred. “Um…thanks for last night.”
“Your welcome, but its part of the friendship package; thus I am required to be there in times of need.” Fred replied jokingly, trying to lighten the mood since she was well award of Spike’s discomfort. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a sodding truck ran over my head, actually. Don’t think I’ve cried that since my Mum died.” He admitted, figuring she’d already seen him at his worst so he might as well confess everything. Picking at a piece of imaginary lint on the sheet, he whispered, “When will it get better?”
Instantly saddened by Spike’s question, Fred reached out and pulled him close again. “Soon, I promise. Eventually it won’t hurt so badly.”
Weeks passed and contrary to Fred’s promise, the pain never faltered. Instead, it festered in his veins, churning and coiling in his stomach like acid until all that remained was a shell of a man fueled by anger and hatred. Withdrawn and sullen, Spike shied away from his friends and family; opting to spend his time in the bottom of a bottle. Every night, he somehow found his way to the seedier side of town in Willy’s, drinking amongst his sworn enemy instead of killing them. He knew that his actions were hurting those that he loved, but he just couldn’t bring himself far enough out of the pit of despair to care about it anymore. At this point, he was just going through the motions of life and numbing the pain that resided in his heart.
Slamming the empty glass down on the bar, he announced with a pronounced slur, “Willy, another one.”
“I…I don’t know…maybe you’ve had enough, ya know…call it a night.” Willy stammered, wringing his hands nervously as Spike glared at him. “Come on, Slayer…you’re making the other customers nervous.”
“Don’t bloody care about them, Willy. I could just kill them all and you wouldn’t have to worry about sodding their feelings.” Spike growled, pushing the glass further down the bar towards the rat-like bar owner. “Or, you could refill my fucking glass. ‘s your choice, Willy.”
“Ok, Slayer...no need to make threats. We’re all friends here, right?” Willy jumped to attention, grabbed the fifth of whiskey and placed it in front of Spike. “Here you go, on the house. We’re good, right?”
“Bugger off.” Spike snarled as he eagerly snatched up the liquor bottle and lifted it to his mouth for a long drink. Wincing slightly as the alcohol burned its way down into his belly, he wiped his hand across his mouth to catch the droplets that lingered on his lips. Taking another chug, he caught the sight of someone settling on the bar stool to his left and turned his head to find what appeared to be a very attractive brunette staring at him expectedly. “What do you want?”
“You looked like you needed someone to talk to, figured I’d offer my services.” She replied with a sultry voice that was perfectly fitting of her curvaceous figure and full lips.
“Yeah, well…you’re wrong. I’m not in need of any services, now sod off.” Cocking an eyebrow at the woman, he turned his attentions back to the bottle and took another swallow as if his life depended on it. When he was done, he noticed she was still there and said, “What are you, daft? I said piss off!”
Softening her tone, she leaned in and said, “I’m just offering a shoulder to lean on, Slayer. Nothing more, I promise. I saw you and thought you might want to talk. You know, we all heard what happened with Buffy.” A few seconds went by and for a brief moment she thought he might kick her to the curb, but finally his shoulders drop and realized he was giving in.
Spike had no idea what came over him, one minute he’s telling her to go away and the next second, he’s overcome with the need to spill his guts to someone he’d never met. Refusing to let the tears in his eyes spill in front of all the demons in the bar, he let his anger rise to the surface and control of his words. After ten minutes of ranting and raving, his final comments were, “I mean, who the sodding hell do the Powers That bloody Be think they are?! I fucking fight the good fight every night…give up my life for a sacred calling and they…they screw me over every bleeding chance they get! ‘s not right, I tell you! Should just quit all together and see what they’d do then.”
“But, you wouldn’t do that, right? It’d go against your nature. Hello?! You’re the chosen one; you might try to live a normal life, but do you really think you could? Seriously.” Pausing for a second, she left that information sink in before asking, “What if things could be different? What if you could make this Willow chick suffer for what the pain she’s caused you or something like that, would you do it? What would you wish for if you were given the chance?” Eagerly anticipating Spike’s answer she waited patiently; mentally preparing herself for all the glorious, gruesome things she could inflict on the vampire.
“S not like it’d bloody well happen, right?” Shrugging his shoulders, Spike tilted the bottle back to drain the last of the amber liquid before pushing away from the bar. Tossing down a crumpled wad of cash on the bar, he turned to the woman and said, “I’d wish that Buffy was alive.” Sighing, he nodded his head in goodbye and stormed out of the bar in a swirl of black leather.
As she watched him disappear from the bar, she wrapped one hand around the jade amulet that dangled between her breasts and whispered two words.
“Wish Granted.”
The End...or atleast the end of this part of the story. Due to the pleading of Sotia and Cordykitten, I have decided to add a second part that will be more along the likings of those readers who crave the more traditional happy ending. Keep an eye out for it! It's not titled, but you'll know it when you see it!