She loved Spike so much, and being this close to him and yet so far away was practically killing her. It was so obvious that something was seriously bothering him, even though she hadn’t realized it right away, and she had no idea what to do about it. The way he was once again pulling away from her, hurt her more than she had ever thought possible. Why did Spike have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t he just talk to her? Didn’t he realize by now how much she loved him and that she would do just about anything for him?
A part of her suspected that Spike was still – after everything they had been through – half convinced that it was just a matter of time before she would leave him. Could that be the reason why he so desperately tried to push her away again, because it would be easier to lose her that way? She didn’t want to think that was the case, but deep down, she knew it was more than just possible. But she didn’t know how to handle it. It was like no matter what she did, Spike would still never truly believe that her love for him was a gift and not a burden.
She had been so convinced that their love would conquer all, but what if it just wasn’t enough? What if Spike really was damaged beyond help and they would eventually drift apart for real? No, she refused to believe that. Their love was enough, it had to be. Because she didn’t think she would be able to survive without him. And that was what scared her most of all; how strong her feelings for him had become. She knew he needed her, but she really needed him as well. And she had a disturbing feeling that Spike didn’t realize just how much.
Spike had all these horrible demons from the past to deal with, she was well aware of that and would do anything to help him, but was she really such a terrible person for wanting him to pay a little attention to her feelings as well? Okay, maybe that was unfair; she knew that Spike cared about her and her feelings, deeply. But the problem was; he just didn’t seem to realize that watching him suffer was hurting her as well. She also suspected that he was trying to protect her, but what if she didn’t want to be protected? What if all she wanted was to be able to protect him?
Now she sat up on the couch, debating with herself whether or not she should just say ‘hell with it’ and go to him. She knew they needed to talk, but right now, she just wanted to be with him, hearing him say that everything would be all right and telling him the same thing. Because she knew that Spike had to be just as confused and afraid as she was right now, if not more. They needed to be together, not apart. And one of them had to take the first step, might as well be her. She got up and took a hesitant step towards the bedroom.
Refusing to even try to relax and allow sleep to claim him, Spike got up and started pacing the room. A horrifying thought just occurred to him; what if Ethan had showed up while he was gone? Sure, it was the middle of the night, but Spike didn’t think for a moment that it would stop Ethan, should he decide to pay him a visit. Then Buffy would have been all alone, completely left at the mercy of the sadistic bastard. Mercy? Spike snorted, although it came out more like a sob. The man didn’t even know the meaning of that word, never had.
He stopped dead in his tracks. If Buffy had gotten hurt, if Ethan would have so much as touched her in any way as a result of him taking off and leaving her all by herself and unprotected, Spike would never be able to forgive himself. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to block out the images of Buffy’s beaten and bloody body; a horrifying sight that had become all too familiar to him over the last couple of week’s never-ending nightmares.
Suddenly furious at himself for putting the woman he loved at risk without even realizing it, Spike slammed his clenched fist hard into the wall with a roar. He took out all his anger and frustration on the wall, over and over again until he, completely exhausted, slid down to the floor with a pathetic whimper, resting his head on his knees and failed to hold back a choked sob.
A sudden gasp startled him and made him pull back abruptly, turning his tear-stained face towards the door. Buffy was standing in the doorway, now staring at him, her face a mixture of shock and horror. “What did you do?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and Spike noticed that her bottom lip was trembling as she stared at something behind him. “My God, Spike, what have you done?!”
Frowning at her reaction, Spike opened his mouth to ask her what she meant. But instead he glanced over his shoulder, and noticed all the blood on the wall. Then he became aware of the throbbing pain for the first time. Looking down at his hands, his eyes widened when he noticed the condition they were in. His knuckles were almost completely raw, red and swollen like someone had beaten them repeatedly with a sledgehammer. The blood was trickling between his fingers and dripping down on the floor.
For a moment, he just stared at his hands, unable to look away. Then he burst out laughing, only to stop abruptly as he realized that it came out a bit too hysterical for his liking. Finally he looked up at Buffy again, realizing that she was moving towards him, as slowly as had she been approaching a startled child or animal. Then she stopped in the middle of the room, blinked a couple of times as if she had just woken up from a dream, or possibly snapped out of a state of shock.
“Spike…” She raised her voice as she went on, and now it was her turn to sound almost hysterical. “Stay there! Just don’t… Don’t move, I’ll be right back!” And she was gone, before he could ask her why she was suddenly yelling at him.
He turned his attention back to his hands, staring at them almost like hypnotized. Suddenly he felt a hand on his arm and nearly jumped, before he realized that it was just Buffy, holding a small bowl of water and a first aid kit. He frowned, wondering how she had been able to get the stuff and return so quickly. Then he cocked his head to the side. “Thought you left,” he mumbled.
“Why would I do that?!” She bit her lip then, as if the words had come out a bit more harsh than she had intended. Inhaling shakily, she gently took one of his hands and started wiping the blood off with a soft, wet towel. Then she opened a bottle and poured some of its contents on a small ball of cotton. She rolled her eyes as he pulled his hand away from her before she had even touched him. “Don’t be a baby, you’ll get infected.” Spike looked at her for a moment, then sighed and allowed her to take his hand again. He winced in pain as she started dabbing his knuckles, but he didn’t say anything.
As Buffy finished cleaning his hands, Spike lowered his eyes, suddenly not wanting to look at her. A part of him was beyond relieved that she was in fact still here, another part wished that he could just crawl under some rock and stay there for the rest of his life. It just wasn’t fair, how she always ended up taking care of him after he screwed up, one way or another. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, but found that the huge lump in his throat made it impossible for him to get even a single word out. Instead he just sat there, quietly, stubbornly keeping his eyes on the floor.
“Spike?” Buffy finally broke the silence, speaking softly. “Spike, look at me.” He just shook his head, and she let out a sigh. “You’re scaring the hell out of me tonight, you know that?”
Spike swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, still not looking up.
Buffy was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded. “I know.”
He swallowed again, harder. “I love you.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “I know that, too.” When she opened her eyes again, she realized that he was finally looking at her. The fear and vulnerability in his eyes almost broke her heart. She reached out her hand towards his face, gently cupping his cheek. “Spike, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay. I promise.”
TBC