[A/N: A repeat of the title source, Alastor, or, the Spirit of Solitude (l 725) by Percy Bysshe Shelley and the other quotes belong to those that first uttered them. At this point, I have to take a moment to thank my girls – who have both given me inspiration to go on. (They know who they are). Standard disclaimers still apply]
Previously: Willow performed a dangerous ritual to retrieve Buffy, opening Glory’s portal while Spike (patrolling) and Giles (flying back to England) were both otherwise occupied. Tara and Dawn got a visit from Gaia, imparting wisdom, strength and much needed guidance. Buffy has had to crawl from her grave and Spike has just found her.
This is still the same night, picking up right where we last saw everyone.
12. Pale despair and cold tranquility.
Ill met by moonlight.
Midsummer Night’s Dream, act 2, sc 1
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson, The Princess
Beside a dead person is a living ghost.
Chinese proverb
Inch by inch he moved closer, afraid to scare her by moving too fast. Spike could smell the fear rolling off her and the last thing he wanted to do was add to her trauma. Better than anyone else, he knew exactly what had happened, what she’d been forced to do. He remembered his own journey upwards. It had taken him years to get over his terror of small confined spaces. Wasn’t going to be any easier on Buffy.
Keeping his mind deliberately blank, Spike refocused all his considerable attention on the battered girl in front of him. For once in his undead life he was going to be patient and wait. Even so, keeping his mouth silent wasn’t part of the equation. He didn’t know if he would ever be capable of silence when he was nervous or excited – and this moment definitely qualified under both those categories. So he kept up his calm litany of words, trying to draw her closer.
Only their hands touched, now palm to palm, fingers meshed together. He could feel the tremors ripping through her muscles, could feel the shivering that was her response to bone and soul deep fright.
Her eyes never left his.
She knew him. Remembered his face, his strength. Knew she could trust him to protect her even . . . He would protect her at all costs, even if it killed him. She knew it. Just didn’t know why or how. Knew he’d help. So she tried. Soft words, bare hints of a whisper, more like thoughts on a breeze sounded from her. “Help me Spike.”
His eyes closed in silent thanks, tears sliding down his cheeks. She might not be whole, but she knew. “Always pet. Never leave you.”
Abruptly her body gave out. Her last reserves had all been expended and even bravado couldn’t stop the collapse. Buffy crumpled into a heap, all sharp angles and bones, but before her head could hit the ground he was lifting her up into his arms.
Too stunned to move, Spike rocked back and forth, his arms tightening around his broken girl.
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Tara hadn’t wasted any time getting things under control. Calming Dawn hadn’t proven nearly as difficult as she’d expected. Sensing how close the explosion of Tara’s normally placid temper was, Dawn made no issue of cleaning up and then fetching whatever Tara asked her.
Drawing on the words of Gaia, who’d praised her, Tara set about finding some way of binding Willow temporarily and extending her current state of insensibility. It was easier to focus on keeping her contained and keeping her quiet than it was to face what would happen when Willow woke up.
She couldn’t make any rational decisions about Willow right now. Actually she wasn’t sure when she’d be able to make a rational decision. Still reeling from all the psychic upheaval, Tara was constantly fighting nausea. If she moved too fast her stomach rebelled. Every sense was buzzed and she doubted if sleep was ever gonna come tonight. At this rate she wouldn’t need caffeine for a week.
Hiding her smile, Tara caught Dawn’s equally goofy expression. “You too huh?” was Dawn’s comment adding, “I’m so buzzed.”
“I know sweetie.” Growing serious, Tara figured now was as good a time as any. She and Dawn had worked quickly and all was in readiness for the sleep spell and the temporary binding. “Dawn, there’s something . . . I have to make sure Willow can’t . . ” oh sweet mother she didn’t want to explain this, explain what she was prepared to do to her girlfriend. She wasn’t sure herself. If what Gaia said was true, and she had no reason to believe that it wasn’t anything but the unvarnished truth, they had to keep a close eye on Willow.
“It’s okay. I understand. It’s to protect all of us. Even Willow.”
Well. Sometimes people were just full of surprises Tara thought, but if any night was gonna have more, it was gonna be this one.
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Cradling her in his arms, Spike was horrified at the changes. She was literally nothing but skin and bones. He’d seen starved vampires and holocaust victims and right now his poor girl wouldn’t look out of place with either group.
He needed to get her home, cleaned up and something in her system. “All right pet. Gonna take care of you. Gonna get you home so we can see what’s what.” Little whimpers sounded against his chest and her hand tightened around one wrist. “‘s’ok love, its where we belong. Won’t leave you there alone.”
The death grip loosened which Spike took as a positive signal. Getting to his feet with an armful of kitten weak slayer was a little problematic. He managed though, somehow managing to also scoop up the sword he’d dropped earlier.
He’d no idea how long he’d crouched down, figuring it had to be a good while, because his muscles were all stiff and sore. Then again it could have just been all the stress and tension of the whole night. His sense of unease from earlier hadn’t been wrong. There had been something going on – he’d just never have expected this.
Pausing to glance once more at his precious burden, Spike set off in measured steps toward the haven of Revello Drive.
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The lights were all ablaze as he made his slow way up the walk. His first thought was that Buffy’s return wasn’t the only thing weird about tonight. Spike cursed a blue streak in his head, mindful of not startling the girl he carried. Whether it was exhaustion or the let down after the scare of a lifetime or the security he’d imparted or even some combination of the three, Buffy had relaxed enough to fall asleep somewhere between the cemetery and here.
He really didn’t want to wake her.
Nearly doing exactly that, Spike fumbled not to drop her when Tara opened the door before he got to the bottom of the steps. But it was her words that had his skin really crawling. “Spike, what . . . oh dear gods. She did it.”
Spike stopped in his tracks while Tara froze in the doorway. A tear slid from her left eye, riveting his attention. Her whispered voice quavered then fell. “It was Willow.”
At first he didn’t believe it, but then it all made a sick sort of sense. She’d rushed him out the door tonight, had been happier than a clam once Rupert announced he was leaving. Bloody bitch. “Where is she?”
“Out cold. I’m keeping her that way. I didn’t know, Spike, I swear it.”
“Know that. Isn’t something you would do.” Spike took a deep breath. “Lemme get her inside and cleaned up a bit, then we’ll talk.” Another thought struck him. “Where’s Niblet?”
“I just got her settled into bed. She might still be awake – should I?” Tara was flustered, unsure of what she should do first.
He thought for a second, thinking of Dawn’s first reaction. It might not be pretty. “Let’s get her cleaned up, then we can get her in to see Dawn.”
That made sense. They were both covered in a mess of goop and dirt and gods knew what else. Had it been any other night and any other circumstances, Tara might have been tempted to hose them off outside before she’d even think about letting either of them in the door, but this wasn’t an ordinary night. “I’ll get the shower started.”
Dashing up the stairs ahead of them, Tara breezed into the bathroom, pulling out towels and robes. Unsure whether Spike would leave Buffy alone or expect her to help the slayer bathe, Tara turned on the water then went to find something clean for them to wear.
The Slayer was curled so tightly in on herself that Spike couldn’t imagine how terrified she might be. Her whimpers started up again when he started to put her down, her bony fingers pinching him where she clutched his wrist. “All right pet, just need to get cleaned up. Not going anywhere.”
“Spike, I’ve got clean clothes for her. Do you want me to get yours?” Tara’s voice was soft, as always, but Buffy still cringed against him.
Those heartbreaking whimpers increased, focusing Spike’s attention. “Just jeans is fine.”
Settling himself down on the side of the tub, he tried undoing the snaps and laces on his boots without jostling the girl in his arms too much. “Pet, gonna have to let go. Tara’s gonna get you cleaned up. Remember Glinda love? Red’s bird she is. Right lovely too. Been keeping house for all of us. Taking good care of the Niblet too.” He kept up his litany of sounds for Buffy hoping something might spark a response.
“Gonna get you all cleaned up. Lots of soapy bubbles. Then maybe some soup and after that we’ll get Dawn up and awake. How’s that pet? All that sound good?” waiting a beat for a reaction Spike kept right on talking. “Knew you’d like that. Lots of soap and water. All right pet? In you go. Tara’s right here.”
He tried. He really did. But the slayer had other ideas. She wouldn’t let go of him, wouldn’t release his hand after he’d placed her in the shower, under the water’s spray. Instead her fingers tightened more, threatening to break his wrist, while the other hand fisted in his shirt. Renewed fear rolled off her in waves.
All right then. Change of plans. “Okay pet. Lemme loose so I can kick off m’boots. Then we’ll both get cleaned, yeah?”
Tara watched from the doorway. “Maybe I should warm up some soup and tea?”
Throwing her a look over his shoulder, Spike nodded his agreement. Boots discarded, he climbed into the tub behind Buffy fully dressed. Adjusting the water temperature, he called out to Tara before she left the bathroom. “Glinda, get something sweet. It’ll help with the shock.”
“Right. Soup, tea and sugar.”
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving him alone with a terrified soaked slayer.
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Giles looked at his watch that still reflected California time. He’d promised Spike and Dawn he’d call as soon as he landed, which had just taken place. He’d promised. Knowing Spike he was just getting in from patrol, deliberately timing it so that he’d be home in time for his call, and waiting impatiently by the phone.
He glanced down at his watch again. No reason to put off the inevitable. Flipping open his cell phone, Giles hit his automatic dialer and waited while the bloody machine did all the work for him. Not surprisingly the phone was answered on its first ring. What did surprise him was who’d answered.
“Ta. . tara?”
“Hi Mr. Giles. How was your flight?”
“It was uneventful.” Giles was unable to hide his utter confusion. “Tara is everything all right?”
The hesitation was just a tad too long. Just long enough for him to start worrying, which wasn’t assuaged by her response. “Maybe.” Tara wanted to smack herself. How was she supposed to explain all this? Over the phone no less.
“What’s wrong? Where’s Spike?” Easiest way to get an answer he thought, was to ask Spike. “He’s in the shower.”
Tara’s voice squeaked when a pale hand reached around to grab the phone from her. Giles heard the rumbled “sorry pet” from the other man, and prepared to listen to some truly disastrous news.
“Watcher” and “Spike, what’s wrong” sounded out at the same time, but Spike’s next words shut up the other man completely. “Rupert. Listen carefully. ‘M not sure of all the details yet, so just hear me out and then get your arse back here next flight.” Not waiting for Giles to respond, Spike continued. “Dunno how she did it, but Red brought Buffy back.”
Breathing heavily, he went on, “she’s not good. Had to crawl out. She’s not speaking yet.”
“Oh dear god.” Rupert was very still almost afraid to move in case this was a very sick twisted dream. “Oh dear god in heaven.”
“Watcher” Spike’s tone indicated it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to get his attention. “Right. Right. I’ll be back sometime later today.”
“Good. We’ll wait on answers until then.”
Spike disconnected the call, walking back into the bathroom, dripping water from soaked jeans as he went. In the time he’d been speaking to Rupert, Buffy had started crying, though Tara had managed to keep her mostly calm. Getting her out of the tub and into clean dry pajamas was difficult, since Buffy kept fighting her in her confused and dazed state. At the sound of Spike’s voice, her struggles stopped and Buffy shifted her face to look at him. “Giles is on his way back.”
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