Today was his last day here, at least for a while, and until he got back to New York he wouldn’t know whether he could return soon or not.
He hadn’t spoken to either Buffy or Dawn yet; he knew he’d get his chance with Dawn before he left, but he wanted to leave it as long as possible. He wasn’t avoiding it as such, but he was conscious of his anger towards her and he wanted to be total in control when the time came, and the later the better for that to be the case.
As for Buffy, it wasn’t for a lack of trying that they hadn’t talked. Why she wanted them to part on such bad terms he didn’t know. He didn’t know if she was trying to be strong, or exactly the opposite, but either way he couldn’t get close enough to her to ask, because she was always looking over her shoulder for Dawn.
The two of them had been almost inseparable all day. He didn’t know if they’d talked yet about anything important and they didn’t seem to be getting on exactly, but still Buffy hardly left her side. He hated to see her grovelling for anyone’s approval, and he knew his anger towards Dawn was probably twisting it into something it wasn’t, but it seemed that’s what she was doing.
She was avoiding him, and he wanted to be the bigger person, he wanted to try and understand how hurt she was, acknowledge his part in her pain and realise that she was only acting this way to protect herself, but it still disappointed him.
In the past he’d tried to protect her from things, tried to help her, sometimes even done the opposite because he’d treated her too much like a child when she was a grown woman, but now she was almost acting up to his previous assumptions. She’d scuttle away whenever he came near her, so he hadn’t been able to talk to her properly since he’d unkindly blurted out that he was going. He didn’t want to leave things how they were, but she wouldn’t let it be any other way.
His father was saying something and he knew he should be listening, but he couldn’t concentrate when she was only a few rooms away. If Giles had been talking about himself he would have been all ears, but he knew he was the topic of conversation right now whatever was being said. It was obvious Giles wanted to ask him why he was really leaving, and although he longed to put his trust in his father he could never tell their secret now. She had ended it, he wasn’t a part of it, and so it wasn’t his to share anymore.
Buffy could hear something at the other side of the hall. She’d learnt that she was now always super aware of Spike and how close to her he was. She could feel him, and that set her whole body on edge, like some kind of Ex-boyfriend ‘Spidey-Sense’. She didn’t know if it had started out of the fear of seeing him this past week, or something she’d always had after all the time they’d spent together, but she knew it was him she could feel.
Then she heard Giles’ voice and two sets of footstep come out of his office and into the hall.
“So, what time’s your flight again?” Giles asked.
Buffy’s head shot up unflatteringly fast at the question. She couldn’t see his face, but when he swayed she saw his black duster swing into view and the blonde of his hair. She quickly looked over to Dawn and held her breath as she listened for his answer. Dawn was listening too; luckily she didn’t notice Buffy’s focus, because it was her own.
“I told you, Old man, plane’s at 6am. I’m leaving tonight, so I’ll be gone before you all get up; I don’t want you losing sleep over me. I’ll drive to the airport myself and leave the car there.”
“Well then I’ll go collect it tomorrow afternoon.” Giles offered.
Buffy saw Spike step back and she could see half of him now, enough to know he’d reached out his arm to Giles. “You don’t have to.” he said, “I’ll come and get it as soon as I can.”
“Nonsense,” said Giles, “It’ll be sat there rotting. If you’re not coming back for a while there’s no point leaving it there to rust...”
That’s when Buffy stood up, her chair screeching at the force and the speed she had propelled herself with. She saw Dawn turn her head towards her, but she couldn’t stop her body from shaking; even if Dawn was watching she couldn’t be normal right now.
All she could think about was Spike’s car abandoned at the airport, and she couldn’t help feeling things would be no less bleak for her once he’d gone. All she had to live for was staying here, stagnant and lifeless, left to rot without him.
She didn’t care that she had to run past both Spike and Giles to get to the stairs; she didn’t care when they called after her; she didn’t care that she was close to falling over as she rushed to get out of the way of everyone. She couldn’t listen to it a minute longer.
Most of all Buffy didn’t care if she felt silly, for the first time in a long time she just didn’t care about anything. She needed to be away from him, or more specifically away from the idea that he was leaving; she couldn’t breathe when she thought about it. Her pillow muffled her choked tears from the rest of the house, but she was sure they had started to fall before she left the table, and even if no one had seen them they couldn’t have missed her dramatic exit.
But she’d had no other choice; she was physically unable to process the thought that he wouldn’t be here tomorrow. She couldn’t imagine how she would go on. A year ago she wouldn’t have even been excited to hear his name dropped into conversation, but somehow he had snuck up on her and become her whole world, and what no one else would understand was that that meant with his leaving the world as she knew it was coming to an end.
Dawn hadn’t missed Buffy’s behaviour earlier in the day and she’d hated herself a little bit, but she wasn’t ready to talk to her yet, so she hadn’t followed her and asked what was wrong. She thought about it hard as she stood outside Spike’s door, because the only thing she remembered happening before Buffy got up and ran out was the mention of Spike’s plane.
Dawn sighed and took in a new, deep breath. She wasn’t ready to talk to him either, but there was no other time as far as he was concerned, so it would have to be now.
She knocked a little and let herself in.
“Hi.” he said. He was laid on his bed, his boots still on, his arms rested behind his head.
Dawn felt uncomfortable as soon as the words left his mouth. She’d never heard a greeting said with less enthusiasm; he really didn’t want to see her.
She soldiered on, thinking he was maybe just nervous or wanted to avoid the conversation. She knew how he felt if that was the case so she sat down on his bed and waited.
They sat there a long time; she couldn’t look at him, but she felt his eyes latch onto her presence and he wouldn’t look away.
“I know what you’re waiting for.” he said eventually breaking the silence.
Dawn looked at him and raised a challenging eyebrow.
“You’re waiting for an apology,” he said, “and you aren’t going to get one.”
Dawn couldn’t hide her shock, instead of denying it she asked, “Really?”
Spike shrugged, “Not for what you want it for, so what’s the point?”
Dawn squinted, she still didn’t understand. While she’d been away her anger had retreated and she thought she could see things more clearly. She’d not only come home because Spike was leaving, but because she was partly ready. She might not be ready to forgive them or ready to talk to them and tell them how she felt, but she was ready to hear their apologies. So why wouldn’t he give her one?
Spike sighed. “I don’t know if I can give you my kind of apology without explaining it, and I don’t think you want to hear my side of things nibblet, and seen as I’m leaving it doesn’t really matter how I feel does it?” he said sadly, “If things had been different I might have tried to talk, but you’ve made up your mind and I don’t have the time to change it.”
It was true; Dawn thought they’d done something awful, repulsive, and on top of that they’d lied about it. She didn’t see another side to it or at least she didn’t wanted to; but the way he looked at her, so downhearted, as if he’d given up made her curious. “Explain it to me.” she said.
He thought over it all for a minute, trying to choose his words carefully, with Dawn that was always best. “I’m sorry you’re mad,” he began, “but the way I see it that’s not my fault. I didn’t do it to make you mad, because what we did had nothing to do with you.” Before she could butt in he clarified, “It may have affected you and I’m sorry for that, but Buffy and I are adults, we should be able to do whatever we want.” He paused, collecting his thoughts again. “Of course we care about you, and how you feel about this does matter, but for me it doesn’t change anything. After the shock went away you could easily have accepted us and heard us out, so you being mad at us and thinking what we did is wrong, that’s just an opinion you have. It doesn’t touch or taint what we did.”
He couldn’t read her expression, but she was still listening so he continued. “If you want an apology this is the one you’ll get; I’m sorry you feel we lied to you, but you were too upset about Joyce to deal with it, and I think that’s clearer now than ever. And I’m sorry you had to see it, but all I regret is that I didn’t lock the bloody door. You won’t get me to apologise for not telling you, or for doing it in the first place, because I’ve thought a lot about it while you’ve been gone and I don’t think we had any other choice.”
“All Buffy’s done is apologise.” she said, almost making it a question.
“That’s because you’ve made her feel guilty about what we were doing,” he said bluntly, “I don’t feel guilty.”
Dawn wanted to bark out that he should do, but she held her tongue, wisely.
He saw her face crease up and appreciated her restraint, so explained himself a little more, “I can’t feel guilty about who I’m in love with, I just can’t. Buffy can if that makes it easier for her to forget about me. Because I’m the first man she’s ever loved it’s still all new to her, but I’ve been there, done that, and I know for me personally it’s no way to live. She wanted to wait until you understood, but I can’t wait that long. I need to be with her now or never.”
Dawn’s head was swimming; she had no clue what he was talking about. When he’d said the night she left that he and Buffy were in love she’d overlooked it as a desperate attempt at sympathy; she’d never for a minute thought it was true. And now he was throwing it out there every other word like he said it everyday.
If she could make sense of the thoughts passing through her brain she might have been able to understand what he was saying, but she’d never considered he felt this way, or that there was a history between them that she didn’t know about. She was utterly confused.
Spike didn’t see her conflict, he carried on regardless, “Her worst nightmare was that you and your mother wouldn’t understand how we felt about each other, but I was prepared for it, so your opinions don’t hurt me as much as they hurt her. I’ve never needed acceptance from anyone, so although I would prefer it if you were okay with us, I don’t need you to be…But she does I suppose, so that’s that.”
Despite the fact that she couldn’t make any sense right now of what he was saying, Dawn stored every word for later hoping things would be clearer in the morning.
“I love her, I always will. You catching us together it makes me cringe, it makes it hard to face you, but not because it’s shameful or wrong. She’s still the woman I love.”
“Then why are you leaving?” she asked.
“Partly because I have the band, and I’ve already let them wait long enough.” he said.
“Why else?” she pushed.
“Because she told me your feelings were more important than me and her, and I just can’t argue with that if that’s the way she feels.”
Dawn sat there blankly for a moment. She saw his lips move again, but this time whatever he said didn’t register, “What?” she asked.
“I said maybe you should call it a night, nibblet.”
Dawn nodded and left the room, hugging her shoulders as she slipped onto the landing.
Spike gritted his teeth. He’d said his piece, but much as he’d thought it would it hadn’t done anything to change the situation; he still had no choice but to leave. Dawn would never accept them, and so Buffy would never take him back.
He came in quietly, opening the door slowly. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to wake up or not; he didn’t want to sneak out on her like he had the last time, but he also knew she’d been avoiding him for a reason.
He came closer and tried to remember why he was here, it wasn’t to sweep her off her feet and ask her to run away with him, because she wouldn’t. He was here to sat goodbye to the woman he loved, because she wasn’t ready to move forward with him, and he couldn’t wait in the past for her.
He brushed the hair from her face and she moved as if waking. He panicked a little, but steadied himself. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, and although she didn’t show it, he knew in that moment that she was wide awake from his touch.
“I loved your mother very much,” he said into her hair, “she was a special lady, but so are you, Buffy.” A tear slipped down his cheek and caught in her blonde curls. “I love you.” he whispered, kissing her head before pulling away. He didn’t wipe his eyes when he stood up, and he didn’t look back as he left the room.
Buffy hugged her pillow, praying she had just dreamed it all and that he would still be there when she woke for real.