It's been a week since she'd taken him back to the Summers’ house and for some reason that no one in the house could explain, he hadn't gone home since. Well that's not entirely true, he'd gone back to his crypt long enough to pick up a good supply of blood from his fridge and bring it back with him. He'd done this only at her insistence. She'd even made a special place in the fridge for it so that it wouldn't be in plain site to visitors who didn't know he was hanging around even more than usual. Dawn was of course overjoyed that he was there waiting for them when Xander dropped them off after school, finally excited about doing her homework. They all knew this was completely due to the fact Spike helped her with it now.
They'd quickly settled into a little routine that comforted all parties, his brief lack of judgment prior to the summer almost forgotten. His time spent mostly with Dawn the minute they arrived home from school, then teaching Buffy how to cook proper meals for herself and Dawn, after sundown he patrolled with Buffy before collapsing on the roll away bed that had been put in Buffy's room. He didn't always end up sleeping on it, it often served more as a prop for Dawn's sake than anything. But once they were in her room for the night they spent their time talking, not just chit-chat, but in depth discussions until she absolutely had to pass out for a couple of hours before getting up and going to work at the high school.
Buffy had even purchased a cell phone for him so that he didn't feel the need to spend all of his time in the school basement during school hours; she told herself she did it simply for fear of his insanity returning full force if he continued that particular activity. In truth she had no earthly idea why she'd done it, why she felt the need to have the three of them more instantly connected to one another.
That was something she'd noticed too though, that since he'd come home with her his lapses in sanity had lessened almost to the point of non-existence. It added to why she'd talked him into hanging around. His presence also made the house seem less lonely and gave her strength in a way she hadn't been aware she'd needed. But today things might end up changing and she's not sure what she's going to do. Today Willow is due to arrive home. She'd gotten the call from Giles the night before to inform her that Willow, while she hadn't completed everything, was ready to come home. In truth, she was needed for whatever was coming.
Dawn had chosen to stay home with Spike, lying to Xander when he'd asked about a test the following day to keep his suspicion at bay. Buffy in her own way was glad she'd stayed home, unsure as she is about Willow's home coming and how she'd look when she walked through the doors. Xander looking like a total dork with his big sign written in yellow crayon to welcome her home. She shakes her head softly; glad she was able to convince him that white paper was a bad choice for yellow crayon, black of course being the better choice.
As soon as the last person has exited the doors of the plane's runway they both look at each other in confusion as they've still seen no sign of her. “Did she pass us by? Do you think she panicked and bailed in London?” Xander asks in concern.
“I don't think so; Giles would have called if she flaked in London I think. But what if she skipped off wherever she landed for her layover?” She wrinkles her brow in concentration trying to remember what city the layover had been in. “I'll call Giles after you drop me off and find out where her layover was and see if they can tell me if she made it onto this flight.”
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What neither knew was in that very moment their red-headed friend was standing just to their left. Just as blind to her as they were, so she was to them. She turns in circles calling names, her lower lip trembling with the echoing thought that her friends had not forgiven her and did not want her home. She sucks in a deep breath to settle her hysterics for the time, going down to luggage to retrieve her bag before climbing into a cab to the house on Revello Drive.
She walks into the house calling out fearfully, “Buffy? Dawnie? Anyone?” Nothing, not a single sound in response to her words as she trudges up the stairs and into her room. She shuts the door behind herself gently before crossing the short distance to her bed, their bed, and flopping face down onto it allowing her silent sobs to claim her.
It's almost one in the morning before she hears the front door close with an audible thud, pulling her out of her misery. She sits up on the edge of the bed listening for other sounds of life, her brow crinkling as she thinks she hears a male voice downstairs. It takes her only a moment to realize the voice belongs to Spike, but when she hears a once sided conversation she decides walking downstairs to a possible insane vampire, chip or no chip, was not in her best interest. Besides, she isn't sure she can handle finding out why he's allowed here after everything, when her friends couldn't even be bothered to pick her up from the airport after what she'd done.
He'd smelled something different in the air of the house the moment they'd stumbled in laughing nearly to tears from their evening of patrol, but he'd dismissed it quickly when he realized the scent was familiar. The both motion for the other to be quiet so as not to waking the sleeping bit upstairs. He loved moments like this, where her guard was completely gone and she'd laugh like she hadn't a care in the world. These sorts of moments came so rarely and ironically usually instigated by things that go bump in the night.
She knew she should be heading upstairs and calling it a night seeing as she did have one more day of work, tomorrow only being Friday after all, but she just couldn't quite bring herself to end the night for some reason. Things between her and Spike were strange to say the least. She looks up at him, briefly chewing on her bottom lip before asking, “Want to watch a movie or something before we officially call it a night?”
“Sure, luv, you pick something out while I go on up and check on Niblet, yea?” He says in a soft whisper so as not to risk waking the slumbering teen upstairs. As soon as Buffy turns to the DVD case he heads upstairs going to Dawn's door and silently cracking it open enough to check and make sure she was sound asleep in her bed and covered enough. Once he's certain she's tucked in right proper for the night he closes her door again, without a sound, and heads back towards the stairs. The sound of a second heart upstairs, that familiar scent getting stronger, his brow furrows as he approaches the witches' bedroom door. He's not too sure if he should still be considering it the property of both witches, with Glinda gone and all, but it was still a bit newer to him. He pauses outside the door, his sensitive hearing picking up the sound of extremely soft sobs.
He pushes the door open without a sound and steps into the room, his bright blue eyes widening at the sight of Red curled up in a ball on the bed sobbing herself to sleep. “Red?” His voice is only loud enough that she'd hear him, leaving his Slayer downstairs in the dark still of his whereabouts just now.
Willow sits up at the sound of his voice, her hands rubbing the tears from her eyes quickly. “Spike? What are you doing here?”
“Sort of staying here. What are you doing here though? Why weren't you at the airport when your flight came in?”
“I was! But... no one came for me.” She lowers her head, sniffling as she tries to keep herself from falling into sobs again.
“What? Slayer and the whelp were waitin' forever for you today. They said they watched every person come off the plane and no sign of you. They worried you'd decided to run off in whatever city your layover was in. They even had a black sign written in yellow crayon welcomin' you home.”
“Black sign?” She frowns wondering if her dark days were now just a source of humor for her friends.
“Well, yeah, Buffy convinced him black would work better than white with the yellow crayon and all, more readable you know?”
“They were really there? They really did want me to come home?”
“Really did, honest. Why don't you come on down and watch some telly with us, yeah? Then tomorrow go on over and see the whelp.”
“I...” She doesn't get a to finish protesting as he grabs her hand pulling her from the bed and dragging her downstairs.
“Slayer, looky what I found upstairs when I went to check on the bit.” He smirks as they reach the bottom of the stairs only to find Buffy staring at him like he'd grown an extra head and a tail. “What?”
“What are you holding behind you?” Buffy asks in confusion.
He releases Willow's hand instantly before shrugging, “Just draggin' Red here out of her pity party upstairs. Easier to keep her from scurrying away if I had a hold of her hand is all, nothing meant by it.”
“Spike? There's no one there?”
His brow furrows in confusion as he turns to look behind him only to see Willow standing behind him with a perplexed expression on her face. “Who are you talking to, Spike?” Willow questioning him this time.
He shakes his head rapidly, “Bloody hell...” He butters under his breath as he looks back and forth between both girls. “I see you both, I... No but see you're both real... Red's never been dead... and... and I felt you...” His gaze pulling back to Buffy with the last of his words, his face contorted in agony as he sinks to the bottom step beneath his feet his head falling into his hands.
Neither girl has a clue what the hell is going on with him but both some how kneel beside him, warm fingers against his skin trying to pull him from the insanity begging to over take him again. But some how that triggers the mental clarity he needs. He looks between the two asking Buffy first, “You see only me right now?” When she nods he turns his head to look at Willow next, “And you see only me?” Willow nods in response as well and he shakes his head. “Right, well I can feel both your hands so I know you aren't figments. Look maybe it's best if we all call it a night, yea? Slayer, you go on up and I'll be there in a minute.”
As soon as Buffy leaves Spike turns his attention onto Willow with a serious expression. “Now do you think there's a chance you accidentally did some hocus pocus without meaning to? Like something that might have just effected Summers and Harris?”
“I don't... well I mean I guess it's possible... But I didn't do anything on purpose I swear!”
“I didn't say you had, Red. Look let's get you upstairs and tomorrow after Niblet and Buffy go off to the high school we'll go have a chat with demon girl, see if she can be of any use yea?”
“Okay, thanks, Spike.” She smiles slightly before ascending the stairs up to her room.
Spike pauses a moment, shutting off everything downstairs as a distraction before finally climbing the stairs and walking silently into Buffy's room. His voice is a whisper as he calls out, “Summers?” To see if she's still awake, without the risk of disturbing her if she fell asleep.
“Spike, will you talk to me?” Buffy says quietly as she sits up in bed, patting the empty space beside her knowing with his enhanced vision he can see it.
He crosses the distance between them, sitting down beside her hesitantly. “What's on your mind, pet?”
“Why was that talk about figments? What figments?”
“Caught that hm?” He sighs softly letting his back slump against the wall behind them, his head lulling back with a soft thud. “Remember when I was a bit off my rocker in the basement and the chapel?”
“I remember.” She reaches up to run her fingers through his gel caked hair to free his platinum curls as she waits for him to continue.
“I was seeing things, luv, well I still do sometimes actually. People I've hurt, or killed, or died because of my existence.” The last part was barely loud enough for her to catch, part of him hoped she'd missed it.
“But you said you could touch me so you knew I wasn't a figment this time? Was I one of them when you were under the school then?”
“You were my most frequent one when I first came back here, pet. Things you'd say... You... Well what was said was the truth.” He frowns, but he can't stop himself from leaning his head into her gently touch. It kept him sane most nights, tonight though it was making it hard to keep from crumbling completely into a soddin' puddle.
“What did the figment me say to you?” She keeps her voice so gently, almost like a warm breath against his ear than a whisper.
“Reminding me of the things I've done, what I am, or was... How many times I've failed you and the bit... Beneath you...”
She frowns deeply at this, she knows the mantra they'd both been hearing lately, from beneath you, it devours. But she also remembered her harsh words to him last year. She curls her hand against his cheek before sliding it up underneath his chin to pull his face towards her own, when he protests she says softly but stern, “Spike, look at me, please?”
“They're right, Slayer. You know it, I know it. Even if it wasn't truly you down there, the words were still right.”
She turns her hand slightly so she can keep it under his chin but press her thumb against his lips to silence him. “Spike, I had no right to talk to you like that. No one does. You've done a lot wrong in your century plus of being around, there's no denying that. But you've done a lot of good too. You did it by choice; you didn't kill me when you could have even after the chip. I know I didn't see it then but the chip isn't the only reason you stopped trying to kill people. You could have had minions do it for you, we both know that, but you didn't. Instead you fought beside me, didn't you? And you looked after Dawn no matter what, even after I'd gone. You're my equal Spike, you need to know that and you need to remember it. If these figments start haunting you, come to me. Okay?”
“I... I don't want to burden you, Slayer...” He can't pull his face from her grasp but he turns his gaze down to his hands within his lap just the same, trying with everything inside of him not to let the tears burning behind his eyes to fall. To be named her equal by her own admission was something he'd never even hoped to hear. It wasn't the same as having her love him like he loves her, but it was a far cry from being beneath her too.
“Things have always been complicated between us, I know it and so do you, but I think some where along the way even before this summer, we became friends. I didn't want to see it, I denied it and for that I'm deeply sorry. But mistakes on either part aside, we are friends. Friends are there for each other when things get hard right? So it's not a burden, it's part of the package. I'm not just going to lie here any more and let you suffer alone. Don't think I don't hear you whimpering in your sleep, Spike. I'm sorry I haven't done right by you up until now, I truly am. But tonight everything changes, it'll get better.”
He chokes back the sob that he can feel burning him from the inside out as he tries to pull from her, tries again to yank himself to the floor to curl into a ball on the floor. Only before he can, despite his inhuman speed, her arms have wrapped around him pulling his body against hers despite any weak protest he provides. It's only minutes, though for him it feels like hours, before he crumbles against her warm body. He lets his face become buried in the side of her neck, amongst her golden tresses that smell like sunshine to him as the sobs over take him.
“Let it go, Spi-” She stops herself for a moment, turning her head to do something to him he's done to her countless times; she kisses the his neck where it meets his shoulder before letting her fingers run through his matted curls as she tries again to offer consoling words in a whisper of warm breath on his skin. “Let it out, William... Just let it all go... I've got you.”
Neither of them knows if this is what it's like for any vampire who's soul has been returned to them, or if it's something more. It could easily be whatever is coming for them all, or both. But for tonight neither cares, she just knows this is what she wants to do. She wants to give him back the strength he'd been for her when she'd first come back from heaven.
It takes a moment for his mind to wrap around the name she's uttered and when he does he lifts his head from the safe confines of her neck and hair, exposing the glistening tears on his cheek to her as he stares at her. His face full of pain and confusion, he'd not heard his given name uttered with such compassion in... Well ever actually. “Buffy?” His voice is questioning, his eyes begging for answers his mind can't process the questions to.
She reaches up to wipe the tears from his face though her human eyes can barely see them clearly. She smiles gently knowing he can see it. “Let's lay down, okay?” She slides down on the mattress pulling him down with her, against her. His cold body against her warm one as she pulls his head against her chest, lying on their sides as she wraps one arm over his waist, the other under his shoulders curled in such a way she can run her fingers through his hair still and hold him in place.