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CHAPTER 12: Couch confessions
The man who walked into Willow’s office was not the man Buffy knew, or thought she knew. He had a smug smile on his face and an arrogant swagger to his step. Despite the handcuffs on his wrists, he walked in like he owned the place. He slouched on the chair in front of the two women, legs spread wide in a defiant manner.
Buffy wasn’t duped by the mask though. She had worn it quite a few times in the past when confronted to a situation she wasn’t sure she could handle, not wanting to show her weakness and vulnerability. It was fairly obvious to her what Spike was doing.
Willow had arranged three chairs on the other side of her desk so they would be facing each other in a more intimate way, instead of having the huge wooden desk separating them. She had been hoping the friendlier settings would prompt Spike to open up to them. It was now painfully clear that her tactic wouldn’t work.
Spike raised a cocky eyebrow at the criminologist, barely sparing Buffy a glance. “Long time no see, pet. I was starting to think you don’t like me very much. Bloody hurt my feelings, it did.”
“Hello William. How are you doing?” Willow asked, ignoring his sarcastic comment.
“Right then,” He said without answering her. “Are we done with the niceties and all that rubbish? Can I go now?”
Spike’s attitude and the hostility he was projecting was bothering Buffy more than she‘d like. He wasn’t acknowledging her, choosing to focus on Willow instead. Willow who was now giving Buffy a look that clearly said: “See what I meant?!”
“No. Not yet.” The redhead answered him. She was trying her best to look professional and in control of the situation, but she was quickly losing the fight under Spike’s intense stare. “I was hoping we could have a talk.”
Spike tilted his head toward Buffy, but his eyes never left Willow. “Ganging up on me now? Why are you so determined to get me to ‘talk’ anyway, Red? You’re making us both waste precious time. I was perfectly happy in my hole, staring at the bleeding wall and day dreaming about nice things.”
“We are not ganging up on you, William…”
“It’s Spike. You know that.”
Willow ignored the comment and kept talking. “Ms. Summers will be sitting in, not participating. And this is not a waste of your time or my time. These evaluations are necessary, and I think talking to someone else about you and your past could help you deal with…”
“Don’t need your bloody help, all right? I’m dealing with my problems on my own. I don’t need someone who doesn’t give a bleedin’ damn about me to pretend to care. So if we’re about done here, ducks, you can have the guards escort me back to isolation.” Spike started getting up from the chair.
“Sit. Down.” Buffy held his eyes for a few stretching moments.
Willow was clutching her clip board, looking somewhat uncomfortable at the sudden tension in the room. Something was happening between the two blondes now engaged in a staring contest. She couldn’t tell what it was, but she was getting the definite feeling that she didn’t belong in the room with them.
You could hear the seconds ticking away on the office’s clock, the only thing breaking the heavy silence.
Spike slowly sat back down, his stormy eyes never leaving Buffy’s.
Not looking away either, Buffy addressed Willow in a tone that didn’t give her any option but to obey. “Willow, could you leave us for a little while. Go grab a cup of coffee or something. Come back in about half an hour.”
Willow merely nodded, and after handing Buffy her little digital voice recorder, she left the room without a word.
Buffy turned the thing off and put it on the desk behind her. Willow would have to live without hearing the conversation that was soon to follow. She pulled her chair up until she was sitting knee to knee with Spike.
She waited a few more seconds before finally speaking. “I don’t understand what the Hell got into you. Why are you acting this way?”
“What? Can you really blame me for refusing to spill my guts in front of someone who gives bugger all about me? Someone who will study my case as if I were some kind of lab rat? I’m sorry if I disappoint, but I usually chose who I want to talk to.”
He was right, she couldn’t blame him. She understood what he meant, and when she spoke again, she wasn’t as angry anymore. “Spike, you didn’t even give her a chance. I know how you feel, but Willow is a nice, caring person. And she’s really good at her job. She could help you, you know.”
Spike laughed, but it was a humorless sound.
“No one can help me, Buffy.”
“Have you so little faith left in people that you can’t believe someone might actually want to help you?”
She couldn’t speak for Willow, but she knew she wanted to help him… More than he’d ever know. But he wasn’t in the mood to hear that right then.
“And have you conveniently forgotten that I’m in here for life? Cause I haven’t.” He said, his voice laced with bitterness. “I was there when the judge sentenced me to prison for life with no chance of parole. Not the sort of thing you forget easily, pet.”
“Spike…”
“So what is Red gonna do exactly that could possibly help me? I’ll tell her ‘I didn’t do it’, she’ll write on her little clip board somewhere between all the doodles she must be doing while pretending to listen: ‘delusional’ or maybe even ‘pathological liar’--then what?.. I’ll tell you what. Nothing. Because there is nothing she can do, or will do for me.”
“You still need to talk to someone, Spike.”
“I don’t see why.” He said stubbornly.
“All the bad things that happened--if you keep it all to yourself, it will drive you mad.”
He looked away. “I know.”
Buffy waited a moment, observing his somber features. He was in a dark place, and she wasn’t sure if she should go there, but she had to.
“Talk to me.” She said softly, her hand on his knee to try to get him to look at her. He finally did.
“Why?” He asked as if everything depended on the right answer to this simple question.
“Because I care.”
He nodded. “Where do you want me to start?”
“I don’t know--why don’t you tell me who the girl was?”
He chuckled. “Right. Let’s cut to the chase then.” He took a deep breath and concentrated on bringing back painful memories he most likely spent months trying not to stir.
“I was in my first year at UCLA when I met Drusilla Blackwell.” He started slowly, saying the name with emotion. “The two of us were from two completely opposite worlds. I was a nerdy freshman studying English literature in hope of some day becoming a writer, and she was the Goth princess of the campus. One of those eternal students attending college only to kill time, and have some fun while doing it. She wasn’t my usual type of girl. I was raised in a wealthy family, surrounded by those high society snob women, who couldn’t care less about me.”
“Is that what attracted you to her? That she was so different?”
“It was a little bit of this, yeah, and so much more. Dru could have charmed the devil if she wanted. Sure, she was a beautiful girl. Thick raven mane, pale skin, piercing eyes. But it wasn’t just that. There was something else about her. Something I can’t describe. And the minute she showed me interest, I was doomed. When Dru wanted something, she’d get it. And it didn’t take long for her to get me. At first, everything was perfect. She was my dark princess, and I was her bloody awful poet.”
Buffy frowned. “She thought you were a bad writer?”
He laughed. “I don’t know. Probably not. But soon after we started dating, I wrote her a poem. Turned out she hated poetry. So she laughed and started calling me her bloody awful poet. Anyway, things turned sour pretty quickly. I was so bloody enthralled by her that I started skipping classes just to be with her. I spent so much money to make her happy, but it was never enough. I ended up spending my tuition money on her and dropping out of college. We had nowhere to stay so we came here to Sunnydale. She said she had mates here and they wouldn’t mind giving us a place to crash for a while. That’s how I had the misfortune to meet Liam ‘Angel’ MacAlister, and his wife Darla.”
Spike stopped talking for a moment, lost in his thoughts. Buffy wanted to know more, but didn’t want to press him. She was eagerly leaning forward on her chair, hands between her knees, giving him her full attention.
“I knew right away that these people were bad news.” He continued. “Even their three year old son, Connor, was evil. I love kids, but after being around that brat, I almost changed my mind. I don’t usually talk like that about people, but Angel was a right bastard, and Darla was a whore. All they cared about was having fun at other people’s expense, never worrying about consequences. That’s what they did with Drusilla and me. I haven’t mentioned this, but Dru had a drug problem. I only found out after I started fancying her. I was so in love with her that I made it my only goal to save her. I knew she was stealing my money to buy that shit, but I believed in her and believed that she was strong and would get over her addiction.”
“Did she?”
Spike shook his head. “She almost did, but as soon as we moved in with Angel and Darla, it got worse. They encouraged her addiction, going as far as buying coke for her and leaving it around the house. They made it almost impossible for her to ever get better. Things got so bad in that house, it killed the passion between Dru and I. But even if I wasn’t in love with her anymore, I still loved her and didn’t want to give up on her. These people were destroying her life. She was sick and she needed me. Abandoning her there would have been like signing her death sentence.”
“But, these people, Angel and Darla, they were destroying your life too, weren’t they?”
“That’s the biggest understatement of the century, pet. They didn’t just destroy my life, they went way beyond that and I let them because I loved her. That’s me. I’m a right fool when it comes to love. But even if I loved her, I still ended up having to chose between me or her. I finally woke up when I was faced with the choice of leaving and saving myself, or staying to help her, and risking my sanity--I was sinking with her. The choice was hard, but I had to make it. Besides, at that point, I had reason to think that she was cheating on me. So I tried breaking it off with her a couple times. Every time though, she’d beg me to stay, and things would get back to the way they were at first. But it would only last a week or two. She’d be affectionate, calling me her sweet William, cuddling with me and promising me the world. Then, things would deteriorate again. That’s when…”
Buffy noticed how emotional Spike suddenly became. She took one of his hands that was resting on his knee and squeezed it gently in a discreet sign of support.
“I--I wanted to confront her that night. I came back early on purpose. I wanted to catch her in the act so there wouldn’t be anymore doubts in my mind. I was tired of deluding myself. When I noticed Angel’s car in the driveway, I figured I had missed my chance to catch her cheating because there was no way she’d shag that tosser. But as soon as I walked into the house, I knew I was wrong. The thing is, it wasn’t Angel I saw her with, but Darla. They were on the bed, naked.”
“You mean--Drusilla and Darla were…”
“Yep. They were. And Dru looked like she was enjoying herself too. She was all sprawled out on the bed with Darla‘s hand between her legs. I don‘t even think she saw me there. Unfortunately for me, I was so surprised at the sight that I think I zoned out for a few moments. That’s when…”
He took a deep breath and for a moment, Buffy thought he wouldn’t continue his story. His hand was shaking badly in hers.
“That’s when my world went to Hell. Literally. I was so shocked by the display, that I didn’t notice Angel standing right next to me. He was wearing surgeon‘s gloves and nothing else, and he was holding the gun Darla had bought for Dru. She had begged her to buy it so she could defend herself against the bad guys a few months before, when she was in one of her paranoiac phase. I had been against the idea, and I guess I was right to be after all. Before I could do anything to stop it--Angel shot her.”
Silent tears were now streaming down Spike’s face as he relived the horrible memories. Buffy didn’t realize it, but she was crying too.
“It took me a few seconds to understand what had just happened. But it was too late. Darla was laughing, there was blood everywhere, and Angel had used the moment of shock to put the gun in my hand. I dropped it to the floor and left the room. I don’t remember much after that. I think I went outside. I remember throwing up, but it’s foggy. I didn’t even try to run away. I just sat on the front porch, trying to understand what had just happened. That’s where the cops found me. Time flew by after that. Everything worked against me in court so it didn’t take very long for the verdict. They had eye witnesses, my hand prints on the gun, and the motive. Darla sat at the witness-box, crying hysterically and pointing a shaky finger in my direction with all the day time TV drama she could put in the act. Next thing I knew, a judge was telling me in technical words that life was over for me. The very worst moment of my life, is when I heard the word ‘guilty’ resonating in that court room. I’ll never forget. Never.”
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Willow opened to door, and froze. In front of her was Spike, his head on his knees, obviously crying. Buffy was kneeling in front of him, running her hand through his hair, the way a mother comfort a child. She gaped at the scene, incapable of tearing her eyes away.
Finally, feeling like she was intruding, she quietly walked out and closed the door behind her.
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Chapter 13: Eye Witness
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