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Chapter Four

Spike had been wrong. It hadn’t been in the middle of the night that she woke up and cried, it had been in the morning. When the sun was filtering through the windows and she just knew that the sky was blue and puffy white clouds were scattered across it. It was the kind of day that made her smile.
It only took an instant for the tears to come. As soon as her eyes opened it seemed. She cried as softly as she could into the comforter, and she knew in that instant that there were probably going to be many mornings just like this one for quite a while. She heard Spike moving around down the hall and she quickly wiped away her tears and got up. Nate was still asleep, so she used that moment to quickly shower and dress. She had things to take care of today.
Entering the kitchen she was greeted to the heart-warming sight of Nate in his high chair, apparently having just woken up by the way he was rubbing his eyes, and Spike talking to him about women as he moved about the kitchen in his black boxers getting Nate breakfast.
Buffy smiled when Nate looked her way, pointed at her and started to babble. Buffy walked in and gave him a kiss. “Good morning, pumpkin pie. I hope Uncle Spike isn’t teaching you bad things.”
Spike was smiling when she turned to him. “Just giving him some advice, man to man.”
“Oh? And what would that be?” She asked, folding her arms across her chest.
“It’s man to man,” he winked.
“Anya giving you a hard time? Maybe you should go—“
“Buffy, stop. She just called while you were in the shower. She was just wondering how you were is all. She wants to bake you a pie, make you dinner for a week, start a fundraiser, open a daycare for Nate…she’s just overwhelming.”
“I think it’s sweet,” Buffy cooed at Nate and gave him another kiss.
“Yesterday you were telling me you didn’t want or need my help,” Spike pointed out.
Buffy straightened and walked over to Spike, patting the top of his head and cooed at him. “I still think you’re very sweet.” She giggled when he rolled his eyes.
“What are you making?”
“Pancakes. Want some?”
“Uh, sure. Did I remember to get orange juice?”
“Yep, poured you a glass already, it’s on the table.”
“Mmm… thanks,” she took a long sip and sat down next to Nate’s high chair and watched him as she alternated between playing with the cheerios and cut up grapes on his tray and eating them.
“Sleep okay?” She asked Spike as she stood and set about getting the syrup, butter and silverware for the pancakes.
“Not bad. You?”
“Yeah,” she said absently.
“I heard you this morning,” he told her softly. “By the time I got down to you, you were already in the shower.”
“I should probably visit the pediatrician today while I’m there. Let them know about…so they can put me down as his guardian.”
“Anya is going to come over later so I can go with you.”
Buffy nodded and stood in the middle of the kitchen, concentrating on not losing it. The idea of going to the hospital filled her with dread. Seeing Faith’s body…She closed her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip.
“Buffy,” Spike said softly and moved to her.
“No, don’t,” she said forcefully and walked away from him. If he touched her, she’d crumble and she was trying hard not to do that. Instead, she walked outside to gather herself. She stared down the driveway, sat down on the steps and watched the cars drive by, watched the people walking, biking and roller blading down the street. She heard children laugh in the distance felt the breeze caress her shoulders.
Life was going on around her no matter how much she felt as if her own had come to a standstill since yesterday afternoon. “I miss you Faithy,” Buffy whispered.

Walking down the white hall with the smell of bleach and something she couldn’t define, probably death, Buffy wrapped her arms around herself as Spike wrapped his arms around her. Between the two of them, she thought her protective shied should be firmly in place. Time was going so incredibly slow, she thought she could almost hear the clock on the wall move ever so slowly to the next minute. It seemed to take hours to just put one foot in front of the other and as Officer Finn droned on about something or other, all she heard was the garbled sound of slow motion. The door to the morgue seemed a million miles away. The door that separated death and life.
Officer Finn, along with a few other faces that were all a blur to her except for Spike, walked in with her. And then, there she was, an almost brilliant white sheet covering her small body. She could see her dark tresses spilling over the side. Buffy’s eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and hope. A small glimmer of hope resided in her that this wouldn’t be Faith under that sheet. That it would be someone else, someone who looked like Faith, someone, anyone, anyone, anyone but Faith. Please.
The sheet was drawn down and suddenly everything was in fast forward. She didn’t even hear herself say ‘yes, that’s her’, before the sheet was drawn back up, and Buffy was shuttled out of the room. Buffy looked over her shoulder and murmured a tearful “Faithy,” before she was pulled tight against Spike’s chest as sobs that she didn’t even realize were there, were pouring out of her.
After that, Buffy didn’t remember much.

Spike watched Buffy as she sat with her fast food lunch in her lap, the wrappers all undone with the intent on eating, but not a single thing was touched. Instead Buffy was staring at it. He opened his mouth to say something when—
“Faith will never eat again. She loved Wendy’s. The Frosty’s. When she was a kid, she used to suck so hard on the straw to get it out that her tongue would be sore the next day. I always told her they gave you a spoon for a reason, but she always countered that with a ‘they give you a straw for a reason too’. Which, why do they give you both? I mean, it’s much too thick to suck through a straw unless you wait for it to melt, then it’s all soupy and that’s not any good either. It’s like you need special instructions for a friggen Wendy’s Frosty.”
Spike stared at her, not sure what to say. She’d been quiet since they left the hospital and then since they’d left the police station to gather what little Faith had on her at the time. They had agreed to get something to eat before going to make funeral arrangements and now they sat in an almost empty parking lot.
Suddenly, Buffy, moved with lightening speed, dumping her food back in the back and reaching in back for the brown plastic bag carrying Faith’s contents. Lipstick, wallet, some crumpled cash. Buffy opened the lipstick.
“Fire engine red. God, do guys really like this crap?” She asked him, but Spike wasn’t sure if she really expected an answer. “Do they?” Okay, she did then. Her tone was demanding and angry.
“Well, it looks good to some guys, yes,” he answered slowly and carefully.
“Because it screams tramp right?” She grabbed the wallet and opened it. “Look at this.” She extracted a picture of Nate with force. “Look at that. A picture of her son. Imagine that. Angelic Nate in Faith’s wallet. Which was in her pocket right next to her fire-engine- red, trampy lipstick. I didn’t think she’d even bother to carry a picture of him in here. I mean, wouldn’t that have lessened her chances of scoring—oh, and look at that! Right where her cash should be is a condom. How fucking PERFECT is that?!” Buffy screamed and shot out of the car.
Spike scrambled out of the car. “Let it out, Buffy,” he told her, not going near her. She was going to blow, it was what she needed and he was going to let her do it.
“She has a condom in the same goddamn wallet as her son! If she had thought to use the fucking thing in the first place—“ Buffy covered her eyes with her hands for a moment and then started again. “God, I always hated her. She could just breeze through life and do whatever the hell she wanted and I had to work at everything. Mom would give her money whenever the hell she wanted, but me, I had to work. Because I was the oldest and I had to learn responsibility. Faith was an athlete; Buffy was the lowly cheerleader. Didn’t matter that I was president of student council since freshman year.
I am so angry with her for leaving me! How could she be so goddamn irresponsible? She was supposed to be getting dinner! Instead she, what? Just had to go and see her loser boyfriend for some sex? Where the fucking hell were they even going? She fucking knew I was at the house waiting for her—I CALLED the stupid bitch and told her I had a class, but it didn’t fucking matter to her did it? She was getting what she wanted, her freedom. All those times I tried to tell her she needed to spend more time with Nate, she would hold him over my head like some kind of pawn and tell me that if I lectured ONE MORE TIME on how to raise HER SON, then I would NEVER see him again. Again, she got everything she wanted, all the fucking time! I hate her, I hate her, I hate her! I hate her so much for not being right now. I hate her for being dead, I hate her for leaving me and leaving Nate without a mother. At least he would have had ONE parent in his life. Now, again, I get to clean up the mess that she left. I am ALWAYS picking up her mess and I HATE her for it. I’ll never forgive her for this!” She looked up at the sky and waved her fist, “do you hear me? I hate you. You know what? I hope you’re burning in hell because that’s where you belong. You never deserved someone as wonderful as Nate in your life!”
She fell to her knees, then, crying and rocking back and forth. Spike flew to her side and held her.
“I didn’t mean it, Faithy. You don’t deserve to be in hell. You don’t. I’m sorry Faithy, I love you so much. Why did you have to leave me? Why did you leave Nate? I’m not going to let him forget you, Faithy, I promise. I promise to tell him about you everyday…”
Spike’s own tears fell as he held onto Buffy. For the thousandth time in the past two days, he lamented to himself on how unfair all this was. Buffy was always everyone’s rock, the person everyone went to in a jam, the person that would kiss it and make it better. Spike wanted to kiss it and make it better for her, but he felt helpless. He knew he couldn’t. He didn’t have that much power. He could be there for her, help her, listen to her, hold her while she yelled and cried, help with Nate and support her all he could, but the grief…the grief was something that only time could help. No one ever could take that from a person no matter how much you wanted to.
“Buffy, luv, look at me.”
She looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen.
“If you need to do that everyday, do it. Call me and I’ll be right here to hold you, okay? I won’t leave you, you know that right?”
She nodded and buried her face back in his shoulder, letting out a shuddering cry.
"That’s it baby, let it out. Let it all out.”
Spike didn’t know how long they stayed there, but he didn’t care. When Buffy was finally ready, she moved off of him, thanked him and requested he take her to the funeral home. He nodded silently and as they drove to the funeral home, he held her hand tightly in his. Everyone’s rock had found her rock in Spike.





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