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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Tee and Ali for the beta.

Only the epilogue after this! I can't even begin to say how happy I am that you've enjoyed this and responded so well to it. I'm beyond excited. Thank you all for leaving comments; it is the nicest thing a reader can do.
Chapter 8

“He’s awake!”

It’s Dawn.

My eyelids flutter open and she’s kneeling beside me, smiling. I can feel a cool cloth on my head and I can smell blood. My eyes shift to the coffee table where there’s a mug with a straw.

Dawn sees where I’m looking and picks it up, holding the straw steady as I wrap my lips around it and drink deep. I swallow large gulps until it’s gone.

“I can get more,” she offers.

I shake my head. “How long have I been back?”

“Two days. I was so worried. I thought – “

“Where is it?”

We look over to see Willow glaring at me from the doorway. The entire gang is hovering behind. Fanfuckingtastic.

“In my pocket,” I tell her. I reach in and take the circle out. “You can bloody well have it, Red. It won’t do anything.”

“It did something for you,” Willow affirms - to herself mostly - as she snatches it from me.

“Would it kill you to be civil to me? What the hell did I do to you?”

“All right, now, let’s be calm,” Giles interrupts. “Spike has had an experience. It’s best if we let him rest and talk to him about it later. Tomorrow perhaps?”

Nodding my head, I hope they’ll agree and bugger off. Dawn kisses my cheek and smiles before leaving. She’s such a sweet girl, really. Giles lingers, waiting until everyone goes. He looks around, making sure no one can hear before sitting on the coffee table, studying me, which I hate.

“Yes?” I ask, sarcastically.

“I had forgotten, you know. About that time we saw you. It had entirely slipped my mind over the years.”

Agreeing with a nod I say nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“For us, your disappearance lasted only four hours, Spike. And for you?”

“Suppose it would depend on who you asked.”

“I see.” He removes his glasses, cleaning them on his sweater. “I read some of the journal that Behnri’s friend kept.”

“Oh?”

“Quite a read.”

“Is it? Never had the pleasure, actually.”

“It would have been fruitless for Willow to try.”

I watch him as steadily as he watches me. I don’t know what he wants me to say here or what kinds of answers he’s searching for. But I know he’s not going to get them from me. What happened between me and Buffy is between us and I’m not ruining that by sharing it with the crowd.

“Knock, knock.” We both look up to see Willow, standing there. “Can I…can I talk to you?” Red asks, a note of trepidation in her voice.

Giles gives me a look which says we’ll discuss this later and I hope my look in return conveys a sod off vibe. He leaves and Willow remains where she is. I can’t get a read on her at all, which I have to say, I don’t like.

“It’s been really hard,” she starts.

“That it has.”

“I don’t mean to be…nasty. I don’t.”

I must be feeling better because the anger begins rising in my chest. I shake my head at her, letting her know that she isn’t going to pull the wool over my eyes. “You think you can replace her royal bitchiness in some way if you’re mean to me? I think fucking not, Red. That ends here.”

She nods. “It’s just without her, I don’t know what to do anymore.” The circle is in her palm and her index finger moves around it. “I’m grasping at anything that might work.”

“Stop.”

Her mouth drops open in surprise. “What? Why?”

“She had a job. She knew what could happen. She knew she wasn’t going to be around long enough to get that Slayer pension. What’s done is done. Leave her be.”

She moves into the room a little more and I can see her chin trembling. God damn it.

“I miss her so much,” she whispers, the words barely eeking from her, “I can’t even think straight.” She wipes away some tears. “I’m lost without her.”

“We all are.”

“I was only going to try and – “

“Change what happens?”

“Yes,” she answers, her eyes downcast. “I thought if I could just change one moment, then everything would be fine.”

“You can’t. “

“I know that now. I didn’t have enough time to research everything before you took it.” She looks at me. “You could have done something.”

“It’s not my place. Slayer had a purpose. A destiny. And she fulfilled that.”

“You, of all people, should understand why I wanted – “

“I get it, Red, I do. But it’s time to move on. Time to let her go, yeah?”

“I think she’s in hell, Spike.”

“You don’t know – “

“It’s the only thing that makes sense! We can’t leave her there!”

“To be frank with you, I don’t think it makes any kind of sense.” I pause before asking, “You don’t know any other way, do you? A different way to get her back?”

She frowns, breathing out the words through a left-over sob. “There’s a spell. But it’s impossible. You need a special urn and it looks like they’re non-existent. We’ve looked everywhere.”

“We?”

“Tara, Xander, Anya…” She sighs and sniffles. “It’s useless.”

“Good.”

“How can you say that? Don’t you want her back?”

“Course I do. But I understand the rules of the game. Promise me, Willow. Promise me you won’t try and bring her back.”

“I won’t.”

I narrow my eyes at her, not sure how to read that statement. “Promise.”

“I…”

“Red,” I say in warning.

“Who’s up for pizza?” Xander asks, interrupting.

Stupid wanker.

“Ooh, I am!” Willow exclaims and I’m sure she’s happier about not having to continue the conversation than she is about the pizza having.

“Then a patrol. Spike?” Xander asks and I admit I’m surprised that I’m invited. Especially by him.

“Couple of more cups of blood and I’ll be good as new,” I answer and I will be. “But first I want your word, Willow. I want you to tell me you won’t try anything else.”

“Fine.”

“What are you two talking about?” Xander asks.

I open my mouth but Willow cuts me off. “I said I wouldn’t. The urn is long gone. Now we can drop it?”

“He knows about the urn?” Xander’s nervous which is interesting to me.

“Spike was concerned. But I told him that we have no way of getting her back. The circle was it and - since he failed to use if for anything good - it’s over. Buffy’s gone.”

I love when they talk about me like I’m not in the room.

Xander puts his arm over Willow’s shoulder and kisses her forehead. “We’ll make it through. She’d want us to.”

“I know,” she agrees, softly. “I just wish we could have done something – “

“Letting her rest is doing everything, Willow,” I tell her and she nods and I want to believe her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s rustling next to me and I open my eyes warily to see Dawn fussing beside me. Her back is to me and when she turns, she’s surprised to see me awake again. She has a fresh cold cloth in her hand and she leans over me to place it on my head. I move out of the way and she glares at me.

“Don’t make me call the guys in here to hold you down,” she warns and I roll my eyes, conceding. “So, where did you go? Can you talk about it?”

“Can I? Yes. Do I want to? Not particularly,” I tell her, truthfully and she nods. “I’m sorry, bit, but – “

“Did you see her?”

“I did.”

“That must’ve been nice.”

“It was.”

“You’re really not going to tell me?” she whines, pouting a little which makes me smile because I see what she’s trying to do. Damn Summers women.

“Maybe one day.”

She suddenly looks sheepish as she reaches under the couch and brings up a leather bound book.

“I got this for you.”

My brow furrows as I take it from her. It’s beat-up, cracked on the face and spine, the leather fraying at the edges. I open it carefully and see what it is immediately without having to read it.

Behnri’s journal.

“Where’d you get this?”

“They were reading it when you were gone. They kept arguing about it so I thought that it might be important.”

“You thought right.”

“And I figured you’d want to read it, too. I wasn’t sure if they would let you.”

“You nicked this for me?”

She nods, her cheeks flushing.

“It means a lot, niblet. We thought they wouldn’t give it to me if I asked.”

“We?” And the hopeful look on her face kills me and I really need to learn to shut my gob and end a sentence.

“Big sis wanted me to read this when I got back and now I can. Because of you.”

She smiles, nice and big, something I haven’t seen since before Buffy died. She gets off the couch and asks, “Do you need anything else?”

I shake my head, watching her leave before I settle in to do some reading.

………………………………

There’s a lot to read, unless you’re the Watcher or Red, both of whom I’m not, thankfully. I feel like I’ve been reading for hours and when I glance at the clock, I see that I’m right. Fanning the chunk of pages I still have to read, I sigh, frustrated. I don’t see anything that would have caused Buffy to make me promise to read it when I got back. If it was to find some answers, I’ve got nothing so far. It’s all things we had sussed out on our own.

Hiding the book under the blanket, I grab my mug before heading into the kitchen. I open the fridge and see a few bags of blood. I wonder who had that fun job. If it was Xander, I’m sure he loved doing that for me. I rip the bag open and pour the contents into the mug. Unfortunately, it’s not the Kiss the Librarian mug and I smile when I remember the last time I saw it.

I hear a noise behind me and turn to see Giles standing on the other side of the island. I also notice that he has placed a box of Wheatabix there. I know I’m looking at him suspiciously and he smiles a little to break the ice.

“Thought you might want it.”

“Are you calling a truce?”

“You could say that.”

“I get it,” I say and I don’t hide my bitterness. Why should I be bothered?

“Get what?” he asks as he sits at one of the stools.

I put my mug in the microwave, trying to bide my time before I answer. “You think it’s okay to be nice to me now that she’s dead. ’Cos I can’t cause any problems or tempt her or whatever rot you thought before.”

“I can under – “

“No. You see me as a killer. You all do. I’m good enough to get in the fray when need be but I shouldn’t be allowed to be near your precious Slayer. That’s over now, Watcher.”

“Yes, yes, it is,” he responds, sadly.

I nod and drink down the blood.

“How far have you gotten?”

“Pardon?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Spike.”

“I’m surprised you think I’m playing,” I tell him. I lean back against the counter and cross my arms over my chest. I want a cigarette.

“I would have given you the book.”

I know my skepticism on that point is showing through. It is clearly beyond my control to purse my lips and cock an eyebrow.

“She…highlighted,” he explains with a shudder, seemingly unsure how to continue. “She put notes in it.”

I nod, hiding my smile. “That was just a few days ago…for me.”

“Do you think you changed anything? Is this – “ Giles moves his hands in front of him – “because you went back? Do you think you caused – “

Holding up my hand, I stop him mid-sentence. “I’m not talking about that – “

“You most certainly will. I want to know.” He slams his palm on the island and I respect his frustration but it’s going to take something more than that to get me to start talking.

“We all want for things, Watcher.”

“How do you know that what you’ve done didn’t cause her to die?”

“She was bound to die at some point. Saving the world from diva hell goddess is as good a time as any.”

Giles shakes his head and removes his glasses. Now I’m in for it.

“I understand you two shared…something…when you went back,” he begins and his voice is so eerily calm that I’ll admit it puts me on edge. “I’m not asking you to divulge anything that she may have told you in confidence nor am I requesting you give me every detail of your time with her. I’m looking for answers – “

“As am I,” I tell him. “Isn’t that what the diary is for?”

He nods. “Yes, it helps but that’s not…Do you think going back altered our lives?”

“Of course. How could it not?”

His eyes widen for a brief moment before he checks himself. “In what ways?”

I shake my head. “You’re not that clever. You’re asking me the same question that I already told you – “

“Let’s try a different tactic, shall we?”

I frown. “Haven’t you already?”

“She is my Slayer. I need to know. I have to know.”

I groan. He’s a right bastard this one. I think I know how to play them all so well, I never really think that they can do the same to me. But here I am, getting and letting myself be conned. I still don’t want to tell him a thing because I want to keep those moments, the memories of them to myself, to have them be mine and mine alone.

And, hell, by not telling him I get to stick it to him a little for all the shit they lay on me. Selfish and mean? Sure, but I need some jollies in life.

“She told me I helped her,” I confess, hating it and myself for caving just because he got a little long in the face over her. When did I become such a fucking pushover? Christ.

He smiles slightly. “How?”

“Specifically? I think picking her up when she was not exactly feeling her Slayer best.” He nods like he already expected that and it strikes my interest. “You have something to add to that, Watcher?”

“You didn’t answer my question before, how far have you read in the diary?” When I try - once again - to act like I don’t know what he’s referring to, he cuts me off. “It’s been missing since you’ve been back. It doesn’t take an Oxford degree to figure things out.”

“Fair enough – and no need to throw around your accomplishments, Rupert. We all know you’re bloody brilliant.” He laughs a little and I hate to admit that I’m enjoying this. He’s not such a sod when he’s not actively hating and blaming you for everything that has ever happened. “To be honest, I feel like I’ve been reading forever and nothing valuable is coming of it. I don’t get why she needed me to read it.”

“She told you to?”

Nodding, I say, “She made me promise.” Quietly, I add, remembering, “I always keep my promises to her.”

“I suspect that to be true.”

I narrow my eyes. “Don’t try to butter me up.”

He looks shocked. “I’m not!”

“Then what’s all this for? I barely believe you lot took anything the Slayer and I shared together seriously. Now, you’re suddenly on the Spike’s Not That Bad Bandwagon? Agreeing to things that not a month ago you’d rather be drawn and quartered for before admitting they might be true. I don’t know what game you’re playing – “

“She loved you.”

His words feel like an anvil’s been dropped on my chest. Can’t seem to say a word, either. I can only stare at him, my mouth opening and closing, trying to form words to respond and failing.

“Buffy loved you, Spike. She was in love with you. Do you understand?”

Huffing, I answer, “Yeah, Watcher, I understand what love means. Thank you very much.” My mind is racing and I start pacing, wanting to believe him but knowing he had to be wrong. He had to be. “You don’t know that. She never – “

“She never had to. Behnri’s Circle wouldn’t have worked for you if she hadn’t. I had been mistaken all those years ago – “

“Wait, you made a mistake?” I tease because I can and I have to right now.

Giles rolls his eyes and it’s funny how much she has influenced us all, without us even noticing it half the time.

“The original book made the error, actually – “

“Oh, of course.”

“Like most things from hundreds of years ago, it was one person telling another who told another and so on. Things do tend to get a bit muddled when that occurs,” he explains, defensively. “We’re not sure how Behnri got the circle. We thought it had been a cultural artifact that he himself had made powerful but – “

“Not the case?”

He shakes his head. “No and the more we read, the more we realized how his story parallels yours, Spike.”

“Vampire?”

“No, not that. He was human. A man in love with a woman he couldn’t have.” Giles sighs and I can see he’s uneasy talking to me about this. “Joyce kept some Scotch. Would you like some?” And before I can answer, he’s at a cabinet in the kitchen, pulling down boxes of goods until he uncovers her hidden liquor.

Grabbing two glasses from behind me, I give them to him, neither of us saying anything until we each have had a drink. Or ten.

The Scotch could be better but it goes down just fine and warms me from the inside out. Giles is pouring more into our glasses before I’ve even put it back on the counter top. This Watcher I can definitely get used to. We’ve had half the bottle by the time Giles decides he’s appropriately soused and turns to lean against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, still holding onto his glass.

“He was in love with a young woman below his own class and he was willing to leave it behind for her, to be with her but she…she was murdered. And he decided to do something about it. Unfortunately, the diary is a little vague on the details of how the circle came to be – “

“The diary is from the horse’s mouth, he never said?”

“No,” Giles answers, shaking his head. “It says only that Behnri had jumped around from time to time so often and for so long, there were parts of his memory that he couldn’t quite remember how it all happened. After a certain point, the circle was just a part of him and he a part of the circle.”

“That’s all well and good, Watcher, but how does that make him like me? Because he loved some bird who couldn’t be his? Who hasn’t?” I say with a shrug.

He sighs loudly, clearly annoyed with me and gulping his Scotch down before turning to look at me. “He changed things, saved her over and over again. He made his life to find her wherever she went, however she ended up.”

“Reincarnation?” I ask, my voice tinged with my doubt and sarcasm.

“He believed he found her every time, no matter what and he would stay with her until she was gone.”

“Glutton for punishment that one. Not my idea of a good time, Watcher. I don’t plan on going loopty loo in time anymore. I’m done. Gave Red back the circle. I know she’s gone.”

“According the diary, the circle is driven by love. I don’t know how, I don’t know why but Behnri was adamant that it was. He would never have been able to find her if she hadn’t loved him in return – “

“Slayer loved the witch and you and the boy. Any one of you would have been able to get to her – “

“You’re not listening – “

“You’re not listening,” I interrupt. “I don’t want to hear this, understand? I don’t want to know this. The circle worked because I loved her and wanted to help her. End of story. Got it?”

Giles stares at me, his eyes searching my face for answers that my stony expression is not going to give him. I walk past him and almost make it out of the kitchen when I hear him say my name. I look over my shoulder but don’t respond, waiting.

“If you never went back, Angelus would have killed her.”

“You don’t know – “

“I have it on good authority that you saved her quite a few times. If you didn’t go back, we wouldn’t be standing here today. It’s an interesting thing.” He waves his hand at me, letting me know he’s done and I get to just outside the archway when I hear him say, “Just keep reading. Forget Behnri’s part, Spike, and read hers.”

………………………………………………..

I sit on the back porch, in the same spot I sat months ago, comforting her, not knowing that I’d actually been doing that for years. It was all so strange, really, and as I open the diary, flipping to the back, I can’t help but wonder how hard it must have been for her. To be…friendly…with me and to have to hate me at the same time. I’m sure the latter was an easier option but - and maybe this is a little on the side of crazy - maybe she was so mean to me at times because I wasn’t the Spike that she had formed a friendship with. Maybe she took it out on me because it is me and yet isn’t –

Oh, for the bloody love of all things unholy, I think I know what can cause the chip to explode. Thinking about this enough is either going to disintegrate that awful thing once and for all or I’m going to be bleed through my eyeballs. Possibly both.

I see her handwriting and stop short, taking in a sharp breath. Why am I nervous to read this? Why does any of this even matter now? Do I really need to know the whys or hows? It happened. It gave me something of her that will stay with me for the rest of my unlife. It gave me a part of her that no one else ever had. That should be enough. Why ruin it with explanations that will take away from it?

Shaking my head, I light a cigarette. Because she wanted me to read it.

And, also, I’m a nosey bastard and nothing can keep me away from this.

Her handwriting is girly, but still strong with certain letters loopy and big and others made with a certainness that can only lead me to wonder what she was thinking of when she wrote it. I can picture her starting to write her entry and stopping, rolling her eyes, almost embarrassed by what she’s doing and then continuing on because she wants us to know the truth of what has happened. She wants me to know the reasons why but I can’t help but smile that she did it more for them. To let them know what I had done for her.

I’m not very good at explanations. I leave all that to Giles but he doesn’t know this is still happening. Was happening, I should say. Tonight will be the last night that I will see you or either Spike. I only have a few minutes to get this all down and I apologize ahead of time for my lack of technical terms or any concrete evidence as to the whys. I can only tell you my experience and I hope that it should help you understand a little better. And, maybe, warrant Spike a little understanding, as well. That includes you, Xander.

We all met Spike before the Teacher’s conference night but Giles and I met him again a few weeks after, before Halloween. We didn’t know what to think of it and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wonder why that time. Why did he come to me at that time when all I knew of him was “eek, scary vampire?” But for that Spike, he had known me for four years, had loved me for just as long, I think. By the time he found the circle and wished to be someplace else, I..well, I loved him, too. Granted, I felt this way because of him coming to me and the help he gave. I know, I know. It’s all high on the confusion meter and swiftly heading into exploding brain territory but think of it like The Terminator, and if you don’t know, Xander will be happy to explain it. In detail. For many, many hours.

I’ll try to make this as easy on the noggin as I can. I believe the reason why Spike came to me when I was sixteen is because I felt lost. I was confused about my calling, my place in the world and what it all meant, especially after that whole dying thing that I’m now a pro at, and I wasn’t looking for answers from Giles. Nor did I want them from Angel. I felt very much alone a lot of the time, and I especially felt that no one would understand what I was going through. I didn’t even feel comfortable enough to talk to Willow about it and she always tried to understand. I think the current me, who was aware that Spike found the circle after I…you know, after that, was focused on having him meet me then. Because he knows me…he knows Slayers. He does. I trusted him to be able to approach me and figure it all out and not try to get back to the now too quickly because I would need him to be around to help me out. If he hadn’t made it to then, I don’t know what would have happened. Maybe Angelus would have won. Maybe Adam would have. Maybe I wouldn’t have ever made it back to Sunnydale after I sent Angel to hell. Say what you will but that vamp gave me the swift kick in the ass that was needed to get me to open my eyes a little bit – the going to hell thing that immediately followed only cemented everything he had already said.

But the important thing is that nothing would change and everything would. Without the one influencing the other, the now wouldn’t exist. It’s a choice and yet not a choice. It’s all that stuff that they tried to teach me in that one class I took on existentialism that Willow thought we’d like but which really only made me want to stab things. A lot. And repeatedly.

Seriously, though, I don’t know what life would be like without the other Spike helping me out along the way. I can’t really stop and think about all the maybes. And I kind of don’t want to. All I can know for sure is everything happens for a reason. It’s all we kept saying to each other and I truly believe that now. I feel good about the fight we’re about to embark on and though I’ve known for a while that it wouldn’t end well, it still won’t stop me from going, from fighting, from doing my duty. I hope that I will get one more moment with the other Spike, to thank him and tell him what he’s done so that when I’m gone, he knows what he did, what he meant. But if I don’t have the opportunity to have that with him, then please give this to him. Please let him know.

It’s strange, really. When I finish this, I will almost be finished and we’ll have no idea what happens next. I almost wish I could be there for it.

Bloody hell.





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