Chapter Ten
The first thing Spike noticed was the dark. Not grey, anymore. Black. Suffocating. He tried to stand, but his legs were shaking, and it was at that moment, he realised he was naked.
But of course you are, his brain chastised. You fell asleep naked, with... His thoughts trailed off as the thought of her caused a terrible pain to build up in his chest.
He tried to stand again, managing it this time, though it was a struggle. Looking at his surroundings, he thought that the place hadn't changed much since the first time: it just seemed darker, now. Perhaps that was a reflection of his state of mind.
He waited, not having anything better to do. Tried walking around, but the space was so small and he kept hitting some kind of buffer, something that felt... fuzzy. Keeping him in.
He knew that the demon would turn up soon to complete the transaction. He still couldn't remember what he'd bargained away, but he knew it had to be something.
He was right, of course. The demon arrived sometime later—he wasn't sure how much time had passed; it seemed to move differently here—but arrive it did, in a showy swirl of white smoke and flashing lights.
Spike felt slightly at a disadvantage being without clothes, but he stood as tall as he could and faced the demon head-on, sneer on his face. The demon was short and squat and it was dressed, rather typically, in a long cloak with billowing hood. “Here you are then,” Spike said, wanting to get it over with.
“Yes.” Its voice echoed around the nothingness, though it had no mouth on its pale, fleshy face. No eyes, either.
“Well?” Spike prompted. “What do I owe you?”
“You don’t remember?” Though phrased as a question, there was no inflection in the demon’s voice; it remained on the same monotonous level.
“Wouldn’t be asking if I did, would I?”
“Hmm.” The demon approached, a sickly-sweet smell filling Spike’s nostrils when it stopped in front of him. It reached out a pallid hand and pressed its palm to Spike’s head. He shivered at the sticky feel of the skin, but before he could say anything, his head filled with images, like a film reel playing in his mind.
***
He saw himself, fully dressed, standing in the grey nothingness. He still wore the amulet around his neck, though its centre was cracked through. Spike watched as his past-self looked around, trying to work out where he was.
He saw himself sitting, thinking, and knew that those were the times he had seen into Buffy and Dawn’s life... seen them on the aeroplane, seen them crying.
Then, finally, the demon came. With the same level of pomp and circumstance with which it had arrived just moments before, it came to a stop before past-Spike, featureless face twisted in a mockery of a grin.
“What do you want?” The demon said, its voice weak.
“Where am I? What’s going on?” As Spike watched the conversation, he began to remember what had happened, and a sickening sense of dread filled him.
“That is not relevant,” the demon replied. “What do you wish for? What is it you want above all else?”
Spike saw his past self close his eyes, and knew that he had been thinking of Buffy, of being with her. “I want…”
“Yes?” The demon sounded eager, its voice stronger.
“Her.”
“The Slayer?” Its voice was gleeful now.
“Yes,” past-Spike replied. “Buffy. Just want to know she’ll be okay.”
“What if I could send you back to her?” the demon asked, rubbing the long fingers of its hands together. “What if I could give you a second chance?”
“Why would you do that?” Past-Spike asked, casting suspicious eyes over the demon. “What’s in it for you?”
“Oh, a trifle,” the demon replied, reaching out a hand to the amulet around Spike’s neck. “Just that pretty trinket of yours.”
“Just this?” Past-Spike took hold of the amulet, wincing at the sharp shock it sent through his palm, the odd stinging sensation it sent to his heart. “Oh.”
“Yessss,” the demon hissed. “Now you understand.”
“Why? Can’t be worth much, my soul.”
“No? The soul won fairly in an act of love by what was once a vicious, bloodthirsty vampire? The soul that cleansed a Hellmouth? Why, the only thing sweeter would be the soul of a Slayer.” The demon shivered in delight. “Oh, your soul will be satisfying indeed.”
“So, what? I give you my soul and you send me back to my Slayer?” He snorted. “She won’t want me without it.”
The demon paused, considering, head cocked. “I could send you back with the soul. It would only be temporary. You wouldn’t exist fully in that reality, and only she would be able to see you.” It paused again, then nodded. “Yes, I could do that. It will be difficult. Require lots of concentration. But I can do it.”
“And when my time is up…”
“You will return here. Your body will go to whatever hell vampires like yourself earn as their final resting place, and I shall feast on the soul of a Champion.”
Spike watched while his past-self thought it over, knowing as he did so that he would make the same decision a thousand times over if it meant he got to see Buffy once more.
“What if I say no? What then?”
“Then you will remain here, in this grey nothingness for all eternity.” The demon chuckled.
“Right then,” past-Spike said. “Hell’s a small price to pay for what you’re offering.”
“Good,” the demon replied, voice filled with jubilation. It reached out a hand to the amulet. “Give me that, then sit. Think of her, think of a place. Concentrate, and you will be with her in no time at all…”
“Wait.” Past-Spike held up a hand. “I want a guarantee. You’ll do nothing to her, understand?”
“As long as she does not try to keep you with her, I promise not to touch the girl. Otherwise—” the demon shrugged “—she comes back with you.”
Past-Spike nodded and took the amulet off, handing it to the demon without a word.
***
The vision ended, and Spike came back to himself with a jolt.
“Now you see,” the demon said, reaching into the pocket of its robe and pulling out the amulet. It glistened in the darkness, the golden light within pulsing outwards towards Spike, almost as if it were trying to reconnect with him. “Was it worth it, then? For the price you’re going to pay, to see her?”
“Yes.” Spike’s answer was without hesitation. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“Shame yours doesn’t beat,” the demon said. “That was your only chance. And now, it is time for you to move on. I have things to do, souls to devour.” It raised a hand and Spike felt something begin to push on him, forcing him away. “Shoo.”
The last thing Spike saw was the demon bringing the amulet to its lips, the golden light of Spike’s soul swirling towards the thing’s mouth.
***
There was no point, Buffy thought, in rushing back to her friends. They would just ask questions that she wasn't ready to answer; make her think of things she didn't want to think of.
It was dark, now, and she had returned to the apartment in a daze, Spike’s long leather coat whipping her ankles with every step. She sat in the living room, lights off, shivering in the dark. She was too numb to do anything more, her feelings still too raw for her to examine them more closely.
Eventually, she stood, and moved into the bedroom. The bed was still mussed from last night’s—God, had it only been last night?—activities, and Spike’s scent lingered in the room. She lay down on the bed, still clothed in his t-shirt and coat, but it was a long time before she fell into a fitful sleep.
***
It was late morning when she woke up, the sun shining through the thin curtains. Buffy sat up, blinking her bleary eyes as she tried to work out what had awoken her. A noise—a frantic knocking at the front door.
She scrambled out of bed, the absurd thought that Spike might be back once more adding speed to her movements as she strode through the small living room.
Buffy opened the door to reveal Giles, Dawn and Willow standing on the front step, with Jack a few paces behind them. She could only conclude that he had shown them the way to the apartment.
Too exhausted and emotionally drained to tell her friends that they should have waited for her phone-call, like she’d asked, Buffy opened the door wider to let them in. Besides, now that they were here, she was glad. Just their presence had a small impact on how she was feeling.
She heard Giles say something to Jack, who nodded and took off down the garden path without a word.
Dawn was watching her with wide eyes. “Buffy?”
“I’m okay, Dawnie,” she replied, and allowed her younger sister to lead her over to the couch.
Dawn plucked at the leather sleeve of the coat she was still wearing and frowned. “This is Spike’s coat.” It was not a question.
Nodding, Buffy allowed the last of her walls to crumble down, and the events of the last few days spilled from her lips, from that first sighting of Spike on the beach to his disappearance back into the grey the night before.
Willow and Giles listened, shock and scepticism on their faces, but even they couldn’t deny the physical evidence of Spike’s coat and shirt.
“This is most extraordinary,” Giles commented, removing his glasses and cleaning the lenses on the bottom of his jacket. “And he made a deal with a demon, you say?”
“Yeah.” Buffy nodded. “But he couldn’t remember what the demon wanted in exchange. I’m so worried…”
Dawn put her hand over her sister’s. “He’ll be okay. It’s Spike; he can handle one little demon.”
“You didn’t see him, Dawnie,” Buffy replied. “He was so… defeated. So resigned to what he’d agreed to, whatever it was.”
“Ooh. Ooh!” Willow bounced in her seat, waving her hand in the air. “I can try and trace him. From what he described to you—the grey, the nothingness—it sounds like he was in a kind of holding dimension. Demons hire them out for shady transactions… kind of like little pocket dimensions in between all the physical ones, so no laws apply. This demon… it must have sensed an opportunity when Spike died. Pulled him in. You have his coat, and it’s been in the grey dimension with him, so I could try to find out where it is—”
“—and Spike might still be there, the demon might not have got to him yet!” Dawn finished. “We could get him out!”
Giles held out a wary hand. “Let’s not get our hopes up,” he said. “We don’t know if this will work.”
“But it might.” Buffy’s eyes were shining with the very first glimmer of hope. “It might.”
***
Willow had to travel to the nearby town of Swanage to find a magic shop that had all the supplies she needed to work the dimension-locating spell. It was a long drive and by the time Giles had hired a car to take them there and back again, and the journey had been made, night was closing in.
Nevertheless, Willow said she would attempt the spell straight away; the longer they left it, the less chance there would be of finding Spike in the grey.
Giles helped to set up the twenty white pillar candles in a circle around the witch, whilst Dawn placed little bunches of herbs at four points in the room. Buffy watched the proceedings with an anxious eye, trying not to let herself get too excited. It might not work.
“Buffy?” Willow stood in front of her, hand outstretched. “I need Spike’s coat.”
“Oh, right.” Buffy nodded, and shrugged the duster from her shoulders—the first time she had done so since putting it on the night before. She felt a little nervous about handing it over to Willow, who had a history of spells going awry. Still, if that was the only way…
Placing the coat in the centre of the circle, Willow sat herself down next to it and closed her eyes. She was silent for several long moments and then she smiled.
“Oh! I see it, I think. Lots of grey.”
“What about Spike?” Dawn asked. “Can you see him?”
“Give me a sec,” Willow replied. “It’s kinda misty. Oh!”
“Oh?” Buffy bit her lip. “What oh?”
“I see him!” Willow smiled. “It looks like he’s unconscious…” Her cheeks coloured slightly. “And kinda naked. And can I just say—wow.”
“Willow?” Buffy’s voice held a warning. “Less ogling, more spell casting? Can you see a demon there, too?”
“Can’t see or sense a demon.” Willow said, her eyes snapping open as she let herself drop forward. “Now we know where Spike is, we should try to get him out before the demon does arrive. Should be easy enough.” She stood and sprinkled a circle of sand around the outside of the candles.
“I hate to be the voice of caution,” Giles put in, suddenly.
“Oh come on, Giles.” Buffy interrupted him, her mood suddenly buoyant. “You love being the voice of caution.”
“Be that as it may,” he replied, “surely interfering now would invalidate the deal Spike made with the demon? And that would put you in danger, Buffy.”
“I don’t care.” Buffy lifted her head and looked her watcher in the eye. “If the demon decides to take me, I’ll slay it.”
Giles sighed. “Very well. I can see I’m not going to be able to change your mind.”
“No.” Buffy held his gaze for a moment longer, before turning back to Willow. “Think you can get him out?”
“Absolutely! Just gimme a moment to get centered.” She sat down again, placed her hands in her lap, and closed her eyes.
The others looked on anxiously as the minutes ticked by and still Willow sat there, eyes closed and back rigid. Eventually, she slumped sideways, the movement breaking the circle of candles. Dawn hurried to help the witch stand up.
“Did it work?” Willow asked. She looked around the room, obviously expecting to see Spike. “That should have worked. I felt it work. He… he wasn’t in the grey, anymore.”
“It didn’t,” Buffy replied, dully. “He’s not here.”
“I’m sorry.” Willow’s face fell. “Buffy, I swear, that should have worked.”
“I know.” Buffy tried to smile at her friend. “I’m tired now.” Picking up the leather duster from the floor, she retreated into the bedroom without another word.
***
The rain pounded heavily on the stone, turning it slippery. Dangerous. Buffy didn’t care; her steps were sure as she wound her way along the wall.
It was mid-morning and usually at this time the beach and seafront would have been busy. There would have been yachts and sailing boats launched out onto the waves, and children swimming in the ocean.
Today, she was the only one around. The boats moored in the harbour were sheltered somewhat by the wall of the Cobb, ropes clinking against their masts. In the otherwise silent bay, the sound was eerie.
Buffy reached the end of the long wall and stood at its head, staring out to sea. The waves were rough and white-tipped, churning against the sides of the Cobb and sending splashes of sea-spray over the top of the wall.
Three days. Three days since Willow had attempted to bring Spike back from the pocket dimension the demon had him held in. Three days since that had failed.
Her friend had tried again the morning after, but had discovered with dismay that Spike was no longer there, in the grey. It had been too late.
Buffy was leaving later that day, heading back to London with Dawn and her friends.
She wanted to stay for a little longer. Reality and duty intruded, however, and she knew she had to go with them. This, standing on the harbour wall, was her way of saying goodbye. Goodbye to the town and goodbye to Spike. Everywhere she looked she could see reminders of him and the time they spent together. Over there: the place where they had danced. Around the curve of the coastline: the sheltered cove on the beach where they had made love. In the distance: the top of the tree where they had shared childhood memories and watched the sky explode with colour.
She stared out at the sea as it bubbled and boiled under the stormy sky, Spike’s coat beating at her ankles.
So many of her memories of Spike were tied to Sunnydale, a place that no longer existed, somewhere she would never be able to visit again. Here, they had had but a few days with each other, but it was still here, the town was still standing—somewhere she could come to in the future. He would like that, she thought.
Pulling the red ribbon Spike had stolen from the coat’s pocket, she raised her arm, and let the hair-tie flutter in the wind. She let it go and watched it take flight over the waves, disappearing into the stormy sky. When she spoke, her words were whispered.
“Goodbye, Spike.”
Buffy turned, fighting the tears that threatened to overspill. She wouldn’t cry anymore. Head down against the battering wind, she started to walk back along the Cobb.
Cries of her name from the shore barely reached her over the sounds of the sea, but she eventually heard them. Looking up, she gasped, one hand covering her mouth, the other going to her heart.
Dawn, Giles and Willow stood on the esplanade, waving, smiling, and calling her name... and running towards her, grin on his face, was Spike.
“What—?” Her head was spinning and she felt her legs weaken, and suddenly Spike was there, his arms around her, holding her up. She kissed him once, twice, frantically, her breath coming in short, sharp spurts from the shock of it all.
“The witch’s spell worked,” Spike said, when they finally pulled apart. “In the nick of time, too. Bloody demon was about to steal my soul and send me to hell when she pulled me out of there.” He smiled, wryly. “Still hasn’t learned, Willow. You resurrect someone, they’re gonna wake up where they died.”
“The Hellmouth.” Buffy whispered, unable to take her eyes off his face or remove her hands from his grasp.
“Yeah. Took me a while to get back here,” Spike said. “Went to Angel for help—and wasn’t that a barrel of laughs? He put me on a plane after some prodding and poking from his science bird, and a lot of brooding. Got here as soon as I could after that.”
“I can’t believe it,” she whispered, a tremulous smile breaking out across her face.
Spike lifted her hand and kissed her palm, before placing it across his chest. “How about this?” he said.
Buffy’s eyes widened as she felt the steady beat of his heart beneath her hand. “You’re human.”
“Not quite.” Spike shook his head. “Got some demon in me, still. Or so said Fred—the scientist. But I am alive. Somehow.”
“This is a dream.”
“Feels like one, doesn’t it?” Spike pulled her into a hug, and buried his face in her hair. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she replied, noticing for the first time the warmth of his body as it cradled hers.
“Come on,” he said, pulling away. “Your friends are waiting.”
Buffy nodded and slipped her hand into his, and together they walked out of the grey.
***
Epilogue
“Think we should head back to the apartment?” Buffy asked half-heartedly, hoping he would say no. She was too comfortable to move.
“Nah,” Spike replied, shifting slightly beneath her weight so he could reach the punnet of strawberries. He plucked one from the box and held it over his wife’s lips. “They’ll tire themselves out soon enough.”
Reaching up so she could capture the plump fruit between her lips, Buffy nodded. “What game is it, now?”
“D’you even have to ask?” Spike leaned down and kissed the uneaten half of her strawberry away from her mouth.
“Hey, that was mine,” she exclaimed, then sighed. “Vampires and Slayers, then?”
“Yep.”
“We’re a bad influence,” Buffy said, sitting up and peering towards the tall evergreen tree where their children were playing. Emily had a twig in her hand and was using it to pretend to stake her brother.
“We’ve done all right,” he mused. “They’re good kids.”
Buffy winced when she saw Jamie bite at Emily’s leg. “I think you spoke too soon.”
High above them, the sun was pleasantly warm, and they settled back on the picnic blanket, the only sounds disturbing the peace being the distant crash of waves on the beach and the high-pitched yells of their children playing.
THE END
[Reviews - 81]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 1673 times
- Text Size +
Banner by pamsblau
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
The final chapter! Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. Your feedback has been invaluable in motivating me to finish this. Huge thanks to Sotia for beta reading. *hugs* Hope you enjoy this last chapter!
Chapter End Notes:
Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought by leaving a review. :)