Instantly he sprang to his feet, dropped the medallion beside the bed, and unconsciously ran a nervous hand through his bleached curls.
“Yeah? Course I’m awake, Slayer,” he called up to her, “You really think I could sleep on a night like this?”
She padded down the stairs on socked feet, her fingers brushing the wooden banister idly. They tentatively took a few small steps toward each other before pausing uncertainly. Spike tilted his head and simply relished the opportunity to take in the sight of her. Clearly she was worn ragged as hell. Standing before him now, she did not need to play the part of the fearless leader, so she let her aching shoulders slump in fatigue. Spike’s eyes briefly swept the length of her body, and he couldn’t help but wince at how painfully thin she’d become. Her long, golden hair hung in limp tendrils down her back, and blue circles shaded the delicate skin beneath her sparkling hazel eyes. Even though she believed that their side would prove victorious in tomorrow’s final battle, the weight of the past several weeks still took its toll. To Spike, she was stunning as always--his bloody gorgeous slayer.
Her eyes met his searchingly, as if she was unable to form a question. He saw vulnerability and hope and sweetness in her gaze, and in that instant, he saw a flash of Elizabeth.
“I’m tired,” she breathed.
“C’mere luv,” he said, reaching his arm out to her, “Let me hold you while you sleep, yeah?”
“No, I—I can’t,” she stammered, shaking her head as her eyes fell from his gaze, “There’s no way I could sleep right now. Tomorrow…”
“Just sit with me then. Keep a bloke company.”
He led her over to the cot, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. Once she sat leaning against the wall with her legs tucked in front of her, he climbed onto the bed and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Her body curled into the curve of his side naturally, and she allowed her weary head to fall against his shoulder.
After what felt like a long time, Spike murmured into her hair, “So what you thinkin’, pet?”
Her posture sank, almost as if she were burrowing into him, hiding. He glanced down to see her thoroughly inspecting a hangnail on her thumb.
She answered strongly and mechanically as if she were gearing up for another trademark speech, “I’m thinking…I’m thinking we have a good shot at beating this thing. Willow is incredible, stronger than we could have hoped or imagined. If anyone can pull it off, she can. And the girls have been through so much, but I think they’re finally ready. It’s the right time to do this, I’m sure of it.”
He wished he could just grab her by the shoulders and shake her for a minute without getting his ass kicked. It was hopeless—the whole damn thing. Maybe Red did have some serious mojo, but what she was being asked to do was near impossible. One spell, one weapon, would change the world, the whole order of things; and if it got mucked up, it couldn’t be undone. Spike wasn’t too concerned about throwing himself out there for a shot in the dark; but the truth was, all they could rely on was a relatively unstable, formerly sadistic witch and a piece of sparkly costume jewelry. Buffy had to know all of this on some level, no matter how hard she denied it, and he just wished to god that she could be straight with him for once.
“Buffy, it’s just me …what’s really keeping you up tonight, luv?”
She released a deep, quavering breath that blew a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes. Spike could almost hear her brain turning as she decided on the right words to express the weight that tied her down. Absently she traced her fingers across his thigh before resting her palm above his knee.
“I’m scared,” she finally admitted with a small, bitter laugh.
“That’s it?” he asked, “Well I’d think it pretty odd if you weren’t.”
“After everything…I’m ready. I’m ready to give my life tomorrow, if that’s what I’m supposed to do. Most of the girls aren’t going to make it,” she muttered, her jaw clenching.
And in a flash, she hopped off the bed and began pacing the floor. He nearly grew dizzy from watching her go back and forth in a frenzy of bottled, useless energy. When she reached the little window in the corner of the basement, she stopped and took a moment to gaze up at the moon and stars that cast an eerie pale glow over the ghost town. Spike thought she looked ethereal as she stood like a silent, regal statue, bathed in that light. He thought of Artemis with her bow, hunting a stag under the stars. Yes, he knew he was a ponce.
“They’re so young,” she murmured, her back facing him, “They’re younger than me, and here I am freaking out over the fact that my life might be over. It’s selfish and stupid.”
“It’s not stupid at all,” Spike said, resisting the urge to take her in his arms and promise to save her. “You’re right, there’s gonna be a body count tomorrow and no matter what we do or how hard we wish otherwise, life as we know it won’t ever be the same. It’s the price we all agreed to pay. And yeah, the odds aren’t exactly in our favor. And to be honest, I’m bloody unsure of how this is all gonna go down. And how exactly that giant necklace is gonna match my outfit....Some of us will die, Buffy, but you—you're gonna be fine.”
“Why?” she spat, whirling on her heel to face him once more, “I’m not any different from them. I’m not more deserving.”
“Cause the universe has a funny way of working things out. Your time’s not up yet. You’re not finished. What you and Willow are starting tomorrow will take a world of work to pull off, and I’m not just talkin about this battle. I’m talkin five years, ten years…The future needs you, pet.”
“I dunno, something tells me that already dying twice kinds tips the karma scale against me,” she mumbled as she collapsed next to him.
They sat very still for a few moments, listening to the silence sinking from above. A few creaks echoed from upstairs, maybe someone getting up to use the restroom or just the sounds of the old house moving softly with the wind outside. Spike opened his mouth to suggest that she try to get at least a few hours of rest when she spoke again, “Sometimes, even after everything... I wish I could have the chance to just, you know, finish school and get a real job, and then maybe get married one day. Have a kid, I don’t know…I wish I could have a real family, I mean at some point. But it’s not in the cards, I guess. Even if we live to see another day, I’ll never have those things. I'll still be chasing the next monster hiding around the corner.”
“Don’t say that,” he whispered, his fingers twining with hers, “You can still have all of it, pet. There’s so much you can do with your life. Nothing’s set in stone anymore. Tomorrow will not be the end for you. Not while I’m still kickin’.”
“I’m just trying to be realistic,” she said resolutely.
“Even if the worst happens, if we all die, it won’t matter in the end.”
“How can you say that?” Buffy asked incredulously.
“Over the past few months,” he began slowly, still very uncertain of broaching the topic, “I’ve been enlightened on the whole soul-having bit. See even though a demon got me, it couldn’t touch my soul, cause that’s the spark, the thing that always lives on. If a demon couldn’t touch it, dying sure won’t kill it either. It’s the one thing that always belongs to us, no matter what. After we die, we still have our selves, you know?”
“You mean like Heaven?” she asked quietly.
“Not quite,” Spike answered, smirking despite himself, “I haven’t got the Heaven and Hell bit sorted out. Like what if…what if we’ve had this same conversation a hundred times before? What if life is just this big loop that keeps starting over, and the same people always get thrown together? Maybe it keeps starting over til we all get one sodding thing right.”
“Talking about our certain death right before the apocalypse? Yeah, I can pretty much guarantee we’ve had this conversation a hundred times,” she said, lifting her chin to offer him a smile.
Spike returned her grin and gave up trying to explain it. He studied her intently, wishing more than anything that he could somehow see what she was thinking. Her eyes glazed over as she focused straight ahead into the shadows.
“What is it, luv?”
“Nothing…I guess...I keep thinking about my mom.”
Her hands shook with the tension of trying to keep everything locked inside. Gently, he shifted his position so that he sat cross-legged directly across from her.
“I would give my life, everything, if I could just talk to her tonight,” she murmured, “If I could tell her…God everything she did was for me, and I just…I can’t believe it took me so long to get it.”
With two fingers, he delicately lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes. He wasn’t surprised to see the tears that streaked her cheeks, shining in the dim silver light. Naturally she tried to pull away in defense, to shield her momentary weakness from a world that needed her to fight.
“What can I do?” he whispered.
She grasped his hands in both of hers and looked back uncertainly. Tears she would only let him see continued to spill down her cheeks.
“I want one more night,” she whispered hoarsely, “I don’t want to face tomorrow without one more night with you.”
Spike released a shaking breath and was surprised to feel a lump swell in his throat. Her brilliant eyes studied him with such timid vulnerability, as if he might refuse her request. As if he might tell her that he didn’t think it was a good idea for them to cross the line now and indulge in such a thing. If only he could make her understand…he would never refuse her—not in this lifetime, nor in any other.
Breaking from her grasp, he delicately placed his palms on her cheeks, his thumbs tracing the path of her tears. His fingers moved back to brush her golden hair away from her face, and he savored the feel of the silken strands against his skin. It had been so long, so long since he’d dared to touch…In a brief second, he contemplated what he wanted, needed, to do next. Part of him tried to restrain the urge, because what if it wasn’t really what she wanted? What if she flinched or hesitated, or what if she still feared his touch? Spike shoved these hesitations into the back of his mind and simply pulled her close and kissed her. At first their lips brushed lightly as though they were testing one another like it was the first time; but slowly, the passion of reunion, of homecoming, enveloped their bodies. She tasted sweeter than he remembered, like warm honey and vanilla, and he almost wept from the ecstasy of it. Small hands, warm and searching, pulled his shirt loose from his jeans. Her heat sent an electric charge through his icy skin, and he felt alive.
Each piece of clothing fell to the floor lazily. They touched and kissed and teased and played as though they had all the time in the world. Beneath the sheets, every inch of her heated bronze skin caressed and soothed his coolness. She mewled softly as he nipped at the throbbing pulse on her neck while his hand dipped low to touch her the way she liked. He knew so well what she liked, but he’d never before taken the time to fully enjoy it, to test and to explore. Soon his hardness brushed against her center, and it was like coming home. He’d been with her—fucked her before, lots of times. But this was the first time they would make love.
--
“I love you, Buffy,” he said softly. She lay curled over him, her head cradled in the nape of his neck, her long hair fanned over his arm and shoulder. The sheets lay in a twisted mess around them. He knew she was nearing a blissful, forgetful sleep. For the first time, it honestly didn’t bother him that she couldn’t answer, that she didn’t echo his declaration.
“Hey pet?” he whispered.
“Hmm?”
“If I’d told you we’d been together before, in other lifetimes, would it have changed anything?”
“Huh?”
“What if you’d lived before, as someone else, a long time ago…but you were still you? And what if I was there with you in this other life, and we had this whole story that you couldn’t remember. Would it change how we are now?”
“No,” she replied groggily, “Well except for that whole Buffybot thing. I coulda lived without that just fine...But it seems like I'd remember if I had a whole other life."
“Maybe you’re not supposed to.”
The silence of the night circled around them, every second hurtling closer to the inevitable pink glow of dawn creeping over the sleepy, forgotten town of Sunnydale. As Spike felt himself drifting to sleep holding Buffy tightly in his arms, he whispered, “Promise with all my heart luv, I won’t forget.”
--
Screams reverberated all around him. Cries of pain, of panic and terror…and triumph. A force greater than leaden chains pulled him deeper into the bowels of the earth. His head fell back slowly, in dreamtime, and his body at once became weightless and free. Around and below was all pitch darkness, dank and hollow and empty. But above, he could feel a warm glow from a tiny light, far away. In the distance, above the darkness, screams, and jagged rocks, peeked a narrow patch of blue sky. Heavy smoke rolled back in a rush, and his dead eyes were able to see for the first time in years. Slowly, pieces of azure seemed to crack and break away like shards of flying glass until all that was left behind was pure white. It was bright and searing, but without pain. He squinted to shield himself from the radiance until he could feel his own two feet beneath him again.
When at last his eyes fluttered open, he found himself standing in a vast desert. The land lay barren and empty to the horizon, save for a few gnarled weeds and dying joshua trees. He looked out into the distance, desperately trying to see where the sand ended and the cerulean sky began. Oddly, there was peace here. It was always warm, and no shadows lurked under the sun.
“William,” a small, familiar voice called out, echoing from the depths of time.
He turned slowly, realizing that he’d been waiting for her all along. As she drew closer, her thin, tattered cotton shift blew around her bare legs; and her long, golden hair swirled in the dry wind. Her eyes were large and hopeful.
“Not everything dies, Buffy,” he heard himself say.
They stood together in this strange place, and waited for the next journey.
*****A/N: So I finally decided to finish this fic after...7 years? Better late than never? Ha. It always bugged me that Dreamtime was left incomplete, and after a BTVS marathon, I decided to revisit it. I don't know if any of the original readers are still out there, but I hope maybe a new audience will enjoy it.
I'm still in the process of turning this story into an original trilogy, so hopefully that will be finished eventually. But I'm glad that the Spuffy version finally has its conclusion.
It was a lot of fun for me to look back at Dreamtime, especially since I now have a baby Elijah, just like Elizabeth. :)
Thanks for reading!
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