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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is something new. I found it while going through my short story notebooks. Please read and Review! Thanks to Sanityfair for her wonderful beta skills!
Chapter 1
Buffy leapt up gasping as her entire body trembled. Looking down at her hands, she found no blood. It was just the dream again. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she got up to move about the room and heard a knock at the door.
“Buffy, you okay in there?”
“I’m fine, Spike. Go away.”
She heard him lean against the door, the sound of his body sliding down telling her he was sitting on the floor. “You know, Buffy, you can talk to me about this. I’ve been through it too.”
“Yeah, like a hundred years ago. You probably don’t even remember. Besides, maybe I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe I’m too traumatized.”
“Bollocks!” he yelled. “Suit yourself then, if the little slayer wants to keep everything bottled up, go right ahead.”
She didn’t respond to his bait, deciding to mull over his offer instead. Maybe she should talk to him about her nightmares. He was the only one who could understand, but did she want to make herself so vulnerable to him? He had claimed to love her once. What was love to him? He was probably mistaking his desire to get in her pants for the sentiment.
She’d been back from the dead, literally, for about a month now, and he’d been there with her the entire time. She hadn’t made it easy for him; actually, she’d made his life a living hell, but he stayed anyway. He had been so kind to her on her first day back. Cleaned her wounded hands and buttoned up her shirt when she hadn’t been able to. He hadn’t even made snarky comments or tried to get a peek at her when he did it. She remembered how he had told her he had kept an exact count of the days she was gone. How even though he hadn’t been able to save her that night, he had done so every night in his dreams thereafter. Buffy let out a deep sigh, and as she heard him getting up to leave said,
“Spike, wait.”
She walked over to the door and opened it. There he was, leaning against the wall, his platinum curls hanging loose, (When had he let his hair grow out?) he wore black pajama pants and a black fitted t-shirt. The sleeves were so tight she couldn’t help but stare at his muscular biceps. They weren’t huge, just defined. Spike’s entire body was well defined, tight, toned, and muscular.
“You okay, pet? Look like you might hyperventilate.”
He caught the way her eyes had glazed over while looking at him. Sucking in his cheeks, he asked, “Like what you see?”
Her face turned serious. “You’re a pig.” She went to slam the door in his face, but his hand came up against it, forcing it open.
“Seriously, Buffy, you’ve been having nightmares every night. You need to talk to someone.”
“How do you know?” she asked in disbelief.
“You think I can’t hear you? Vampire here. I hear your tears, Buffy. I sense your anger. I can hear you throwing things around in here.”
“Spike—“
He took her hand in his. “I watch you. I see how tired you are and how you cover it all up behind a fake smile, so your friends can’t see the hell they brought you into.”
She shook her head, silently begging him not to bring them into this.
“I know,” he told her. “They should be left to live their innocent lives, completely ignorant of the fact they almost destroyed you.”
“Spike!”
“Listen, Slayer, I’m just trying to tell you that you can’t talk to them for fear of tainting their innocence. So why not talk to me?”
“Fine.” She finally gave in. “But you are not coming into my room. We’re going downstairs to the basement.”
“Fine with me, pet. Not fond of all the pinks and flowers in here anyway.”
He allowed a smile to cross his face when she turned her back to him. Finally, he was making some headway with the girl of his dreams.
Once in the basement, she walked over to his cot and sat down. Spike looked at his angel sitting on his bed and fought the shiver that threatened to creep up his spine. He thought she looked strange and out of place sitting there, her green eyes watching him, her golden hair hanging loosely over her button up ‘yummy sushi’ pajama top. She looked like a frightened child. He looked above her and saw the manacles that she had used to hold him back not that long ago. Buffy Summers was complete contradiction. There she sat, innocent and hurt, in need of a friend. Yet at the same time she was the Slayer, a killer. She was strong, willful, combative, and his mortal enemy. Yet he loved her. In love with the Slayer. Even though he didn’t fully understand it himself, he knew he had to prove it to her, had to show her that he was capable of loving and that she was the one for him.
“Earth to Spike?” Her voice came crashing into his thoughts. She tilted her head to the side, giving him a curious look. “You there Spike?”
“Yeah, ‘m here. Ready to hear you out.”
He walked over and sat next to her on the cot. “So what’s got your knickers in a twist, Slayer?”
Buffy rolled her eyes at him but pushed herself back against the wall and made herself comfortable.
“Dreams,” she told him. “Nightmares, actually.”
She leaned her head back and groaned. “I just want to get a full night’s rest.”
Spike stared at her milky white neck all stretched out, waiting for him to bite. He took a mental picture of the vision and saved it for his dreams that night. He found it ironic that the Slayer had been plagued by nightmares since her return while he’d been having the most exquisite dreams. All featuring her of course.
“Maybe you need to talk about it, love. You know, get it out in the open.”
She raised her head and looked at him; he saw a spark of anger in her eyes. “What am I supposed to say, Spike? I can’t sleep at night because every time I close my eyes I open them inside a coffin. I have to claw my way out of my own grave every night, and there’s no one to talk to about it.”
He watched as her jaw tensed in an attempt to keep her chin from quivering. He noticed the way she clenched her hands into fists to keep the tears at bay. He put his hand on her shoulder as a means of support, but she pushed it away. Damn it slayer when will you realize that I won’t hurt you.
“What do I say to them? They’re my best friends. ‘Hey listen guys, I know you meant well but you actually ripped me out of heaven, and well, now I have to live in this hell called Earth where it’s hard for me to even breathe without feeling pain’?”
“Heaven? That’s where you were? In heaven?” He was gobsmacked; it was obvious that’s where she’d been. Where else would she have gone?
She looked into his blue eyes and nodded. He could see she was holding back tears. God forbid the slayer ever let her guard down, especially in front of me. When she seemed to finally regain her composure, she spoke.
“In my dreams, I always begin in peace. I don’t know where I am, but I feel complete. It’s like I have fulfilled my duty, and I’m happy and weightless. I don’t have to worry about anyone else because I’m done.”
He saw his angel return to him as her face lit up when she spoke about her feelings. This was the Buffy he loved. Having to watch the way she carried herself since she’d been back ate him up inside. She was an empty shell, a false smile always plastered on her face so no one could see that she was torn apart inside. No one did see. No one took the time to notice that she had stopped eating. Not a one of them saw the dark circles under her eyes. He saw. He saw the things everyone else refused to see. Perhaps they didn’t want to see. They closed their eyes to the fact that their friend seemed more like the walking dead than the Buffy who’d died. If they saw the truth, they would have to admit that what they did was wrong.
“Then there’s a sudden rush of emotion and energy, and when I open my eyes I find myself locked in a box. I can’t breathe. I panic, sweat, and then I start to claw my way out, waking with bloody hands.” Her hands shook as she stared at them looking for blood.
He took them in his. “It’s okay,” he whispered.
She shook her head at him. “No, it’s not.” Her eyes were large and pleading as she looked to him for relief. “I’m empty. I don’t even know how to communicate. Spike, I’ve held in my feelings for so long, I don’t think I could get them out. I’ve gotten so used to pretending to be someone I’m not that I don’t think I know who I am anymore. Why am I here? Where do I belong? Am I even the Slayer anymore?” Looking down at her hands in his she said, “They’re cold.”
“I’m dead.”
“I know. I just mean, they’re calming.”
“Are you admitting to taking comfort in me, Slayer?”
He eyes remained fixed on their joined hands, her thumbs stroking the tops of his. He closed his eyes enjoying the small sparks her touch sent through him. When she finally looked up at him, he saw that her eyes were full of the tears she refused to let go.
“I do like you, Spike. This is comforting, as much as I hate to admit it. You listen to me. You’re the only one who really sees me. You knew I hadn’t been sleeping. You’ve noticed me walking around like a zombie.” She stopped in order to regain her composure, looking down as she did so.
He put his hand on her chin, lifting her face up to look at him. “Let go, Buffy. You can trust me. Let go, or you’ll never get rid of what you’re feeling inside.”
He chin began to tremble and she bit her lower lip to stop it.
“Let go,” he repeated.
She shook her head and bit down harder on her lip.
“Buffy, let go.”
The tears started to stream down her face as she looked at him, his hand now moving to her cheek. “I’m afraid,” she choked out.
“Don’t be afraid. This is who you are. You are not all Slayer.”
She nodded and wrapped her arms tightly around him, placing her head on his shoulder. She began to sob, her entire body shaking as her hot tears ran onto his neck. Spike held her tightly in his arms and stroked her hair; his eyes closed as he took in her scent. He held her for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, her sobs began coming slower, and he could feel her breath coming in more steadily. She had her hand entwined in his hair and began playing with the curls in the back of his neck. He didn’t question the action, he merely reveled in it, amazed at how far she’d let him in.
After a while longer, he was convinced she’d fallen asleep. Her breathing had calmed down entirely. He didn’t look down at her for fear she’d wake and scramble away.
“Thank you, Spike,” she whispered in a tiny voice.
“You don’t need to thank me, Buffy. I’m here for you when you need me.”
Her breath was hot against his neck, and when she spoke her lips grazed against it. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply making sure to keep his emotions in check. It wouldn’t be right for him to scare his slayer away by attacking her with the deep kiss he was dying to give her.
“Mmm”
“Something wrong?”
“No. It’s just—who would have thought this could feel so good? I haven’t felt this calm and at peace in a long time.”
“Like I said, I’m here anytime, love.”
She smiled. “Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to move yet.”
“Stay as long as you need.” He didn’t want her to move either.
She lifted her head to look at him and he was saddened by what he saw. Her green eyes stared into his blue; he couldn’t take his gaze away from her plump red lips. He could tell she’d been chewing on the bottom one like she always did when she was nervous, deep in thought, distracted, or –come to think of it— always. She was constantly chewing on that lip, a quirk of hers which he absolutely loved. It made her human, less slayer-like. When she did it, he could see that there was a person behind her hard façade. He let his hand travel to her mouth and traced her lip with his thumb. He was surprised to see her close her eyes and breathe in deeply. Did she feel the same sparks he did?
“Shouldn’t bite your lip so much, pet.”
She opened her eyes and smiled her genuine Buffy smile, the one he hadn’t seen since she’d been back. That smile brought joy and happiness into his lifeless heart.
“What?” she asked when she noticed the look of astonishment on his face.
“Nothing. Haven’t seen that smile in a while s’all.” He couldn’t hold back his own smile.
“What’s wrong Slayer?” Now she was the one staring and he was uncomfortable. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I think I have. Was that a smile I just saw? I’ve never seen that before. Didn’t think it was physically possible.”
“What can I say? Makes me happy to see the Slayer happy. Happier still to know I did it.”
She turned serious. “You did do it, Spike. You got it out of me. I don’t know how I’ll feel in an hour, but right now I feel good, happy even. Thanks to you.”
They locked eyes for a moment, but then she looked away nervously. “Thank you, Spike, and I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what, love?” He wanted her to look at him again. He’d almost seen caring in her eyes before.
“Because I’ve been so shitty to you. You’ve been nothing but nice to me since… well you know, since I’ve been back. All I’ve been to you is a bitch. Even before I was gone I was horrible.”
“It’s nothing, pet.”
“Listen, let me apologize. Since the day you told me about your feelings I’ve been awful. You’ve been, well, someone else entirely to prove that what you feel is true, and I’ve put up a wall.”
“Buffy,” He wanted to stop her from talking. He was afraid of what she would say.
She put her finger to his lips. “I need to say this. I saw it today, that it’s true. You do love me. Is it still true, Spike? Do you still love me?”
“Always true. Forever true.”
“I feel something for you too.”
He shook his head. “Don’t play games, Slayer, not about this.”
“No games, Spike. I promise. It’s not love, but I feel for you. You’re in here.” She took his hand and placed it over her heart.
“Slayer?” He leaned his head to the side as he looked at her, his eyes filled with hope.
She placed her hand on his cheek and continued to look at him, moving closer to him as she allowed her lips to brush over his.
“Is this a dream?” he asked, his eyes closed.
“Uh uh.” She kissed him again, gently, lips parted slightly. “Spike?”
“Hmm?”
She laughed. “Will you hold me tonight? Let me sleep with you? Maybe then the nightmare won’t come.”
“You trust me Slayer? Trust me enough to sleep in my arms?”
“I trust you completely.”
He nodded his head to let her know it was okay. He lay down on his side behind where she was sitting on the small cot, laying his head on his arm so he could see her face. She remained looking forward, deep in thought, her feet planted firmly on the ground. After a minute, she looked at him and smiled. She lay back with her backside toward his front and allowed him to place his arm around her waist. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her.
“Love you, Slayer,” he whispered.
She took his arm and held it tighter to her. “Mine. All mine.”





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