Never Alone by Lilachigh
Chapter 21 Will it be Worth It?
Buffy headed upstairs to say goodbye to Clem and Elsa. She didn’t know what would happen once she began her fight against the Hellmouth. Perhaps she wouldn’t survive.
She choked back a sob and fiercely dashed at the stupid tears that burnt in her eyes. She refused to cry over Spike. God, she’d spent months doing that when she thought he was dead. No more.
Let the stupid vamp go off to L.A. See if she cared. She was going to do what she had always done - her duty as a Slayer.
‘But you’re not the only one now,’ a voice in her head whispered, but she wouldn’t listen.
She knocked on Clem’s door and Elsa opened it, a finger to her lips.
“Come in, Buffy,” she whispered. “But don’t make too much noise. I’ve just got Tosh off to sleep. He’s been over-excited, what with getting lost and fighting the octipider.”
Buffy followed her into a small room, the walls covered with brightly spattered paintings which looked like any other small child’s nursery school efforts, except most of the people had two heads, or fangs or tentacles.
Tosh was lying on top of his bed, wearing Superman pyjamas, arms and legs splayed like a small starfish. Buffy felt her lips curve into a smile, something she hadn’t thought she would ever do again. He looked so innocent, the skin not quite as wrinkled as it would be when he grew up, the ears not quite so large.
Buffy sighed. She loved small children but knew the chances of her having one were remote. The thought of making love to anyone except Spike was repugnant. Would there ever come a time when she could look at another guy? And she was still a Slayer. Riley had been unable to cope with her strength. What ordinary man could.
Elsa drew a light blanket up over Tosh’s legs, then ushered Buffy into the living-room.
“Clem’s out, if you need him. Can I get you a drink? We’ve got all sorts of fizzy ones and chips and dips and I could rustle you up some ribs? We’re barbecuing the octipider tomorrow night. Will you and Spike be coming? You’re more than welcome.’”
‘Oh - Oh!” Buffy swallowed hard, suddenly wondering if that had been the fate of lots of the monsters she’d dispatched over the years. Demon wives came and cleared them away and cooked them for their families! Weirdly gross and yet somehow neat.
“No, that’s very kind of you, Elsa, but Spike’s going to L.A. and I’ve got to start work on closing the Hellmouth again. Or at least find out what these Shade things are up to. There is no way I can let Sunnydale slide back into its old familiar routines again.”
Elsa sat on the sofa and plucked at the edge of her apron. She was smaller than Clem but just as wrinkly. Her eyes were soft and wise when she glanced at Buffy.
“So you’re not going to L.A. with Spike?”
“No. It’s ridiculous. All of a sudden he needs to know who he is, why he can’t remember. The fact that he’s needed here isn’t important to him. So, he can go. I’ll be just as well off without him.”
Elsa picked up a little toy car that was lying on the floor and ran it gently across the sofa seat.
“When I first met Clem,” she said, seemingly not paying any attention to what Buffy was saying, “I used to get really tired of hearing about his friend Spike. That’s all he ever seemed to talk about - Spike said, Spike did, you should have seen what happened when Spike and Buffy fought this demon or this monster, on and on and on.”
Buffy sighed. “Ouch! Boring! Poor you.”
Elsa smiled gently. “Oh no, not boring. Just that I was angry. I imagined Clem thought he was second best in some way, not as exciting, as brave, as clever, as evil as Spike .”
Buffy winced. “That’s rubbish. Clem’s always been marvellous. Kind, helpful, a true friend. OK, not so much with the evil, but hey, I like him just as he is. Spike would have done anything for him, and he would now - even though he can’t remember being his friend in the past!”
“Oh I know, Buffy. So does Clem. Because you see, I was wrong. Clem never believed he was second best to Spike. I honestly think the idea never entered his head. He was his friend, and that was that. It was me who had the problem with it.”
Buffy was curious. “What happened?”
“I’d never met Spike. I was living in Arizona with my parents and Clem would come and visit. He’d drive up in that little red car and we’d go off into the desert and camp out under the stars. That’s where Tosh was made.”
“Oh!” Buffy bit back the hundreds of question she wanted to ask. Such as, why could demons have children but not vampires? And why had she never seen any little demons before in all her years on the Hellmouth. “So Clem went to Arizona when he left Sunnydale when the First was about to put in an appearance?”
Elsa nodded, her ears waving. “I had Tosh on the very day you and Spike closed the Hellmouth and Spike died. I thought Clem was going to go mad.”
The little car jerked out of her fingers and crashed to the floor, rolling away under a chair.
Buffy frowned. She’d been so busy coping with her own grief, trying to pick up the pieces of a life that made no sense without him, that she’d given very little thought to how Spike’s best friend must have felt.
“Yes, he was joyful at Tosh’s arrival but devastated that Spike had gone. I was jealous. I admit it now. Clem knows how I felt. We don’t have secrets from each other.”
Buffy laughed sadly. “Wish I could say the same about Spike and me. Our whole relationship has been one big secret.”
Elsa sighed. “Well, I was jealous of a dead vampire. Not my finest hour as a wife, I must admit. For a few months life was difficult. I didn’t know how to make Clem feel better. I refused to talk about it. I felt that he should move on with his life, stop looking back, agonising over how he should have stayed in Sunnydale and helped you and Spike fight the First.”
Buffy looked up, her green eyes sharp. “What? But Elsa, nothing would have been any different, except Clem might have perished. Spike would still have used the amulet and died.”
Elsa nodded. “Eventually he seemed to accept that and for a while we rubbed along together, looking after Tosh and making a new life for ourselves. But deep down, I knew we were just papering over the cracks and in the long run, neither of us was going to be happy.”
“So what happened?”
Elsa stood up and began sorting some washing ready for ironing. Buffy curled herself up in the big armchair. She was so comfortable. It was relaxing listening to Elsa. She reminded Buffy of another homely girl, with long amber hair and a soft voice that sounded like melting honey.
“Clem wasn’t sleeping well. Tossing and turning, night after night. Finally I got him to tell me that he’d been having the same dream - a vision of the New Sunnydale. As if it was calling to him, insisting that he return. He wanted to leave at once.”
“Some power wanted him here? Because of Spike?”
Elsa nodded, her ears waving vigorously. “That’s what I think now, but then,of course, I just thought he was being over dramatic, imagining it all. I told him to go, if that was what he wanted, but I had a duty to Tosh and my parents and that had to come first before some silly dream.”
Buffy felt the heat stain her cheeks. There was that word again. “But duty’s important,” she insisted. “That’s why I can’t go to L.A. with Spike. I’m needed here.”
Elsa was silent for a while, busily ironing one of Clem’s shirts with the vast sleeves. “I’m sure you are. When you’ve got a single purpose in life, it makes you feel good about yourself. As far as I was concerned, I was Tosh’s mother, that was my role; I was important. No one could do that but me.”
Buffy bit her lip. “You’re saying I think I’m all important? I don’t, Elsa! But I know what I can do to help.”
Elsa looked up from the ironing. “All I’m saying is that I muddled up my ‘duty’ in my head. I forgot my duty to Clem. I’m his wife and my place is at his side. The second he left for Sunnydale, I realised I was wrong. I packed up my things and Tosh and got my Dad to drive us here.”
“But it’s so dangerous. What about Tosh? Weren’t you scared for him?”
Elsa picked up the iron and for a second, Buffy could see her wielding the axe against the octipider. “Tosh is a demon, Buffy. Never forget that. He might be a little boy, but he loves the fighting, the killing. What’s the old saying - tigers breed true.”
Buffy fell silent. She wasn’t Spike’s wife; she only wished she was. But deep in her heart she knew that in some ways Elsa was right. She had always been intensely proud of being the only Slayer, even if it had stopped her having a normal life.
When the other Slayers had appeared, she‘d been thrilled in lots of ways, but there had always been that little niggle of resentment that she had lost her role in life.
She knew that this was a time when she had to be honest with herself. Hadn’t she felt a thrill of excitement when she realised the Hellmouth had opened again and that she was here, on the spot, to deal with it?
“Go and talk to him before he leaves,” Elsa said suddenly. “I knew I could follow Clem, but if Spike goes and you don’t know where he’ll be or what will happen, will you ever forgive yourself? Will doing your duty be worth it?”
* * * * * *
Spike was standing in the shadows where the mall was being built. He was still angry at Buffy. Why couldn’t she see that he had to find out why he couldn’t remember her properly, that he needed to know who he was, what he was?
Clem’s little red car came bucketing up the rough track and screeched to a halt. The demon jumped out, loaded down with grocery bags.
“Hi, Spike! How you doing?”
“I need the car.”
“Wow. Well, OK, where you going?”
“L.A.”
“Buffy, too?”
“No! Slayer’s busy being Superwoman, killing Shades, closing Hellmouths.”
Clem’s wrinkled face contorted into a huge frown as he struggled with various brown bags to stop them slipping to the ground. Spike reached out impatiently and took two.
“Thanks! I’ve got blood in there for you from the butcher. Well, it’s what she’s always done, isn’t it. Would be hard to walk away.”
Spike’s face was bleak. “I want to find out why I lost my memory. Who I am. What I am.”
“So you’re leaving her to cope on her own?”
Spike raised an eyebrow at the demon’s tone. It was the first time he’d heard Clem sound disapproving. It was a weird sensation. Even though he didn’t remember the bloke, he accepted that they’d been good mates at some time and he had a feeling that Clem had always agreed with him on everything.
“She doesn’t need me.”
Clem stared at him and shook his head, ears waving wildly. “Spike, if you believe that, then that bang on your head must have done more damage than destroy your memories. Buffy’s always needed you and you’ve always needed her. ”
“I need to know who I am!” Spike repeated stubbornly.
“Well,” Clem said cheerfully, “I suppose you do, but whoever you are, you’re not going to change, are you? If you go now, find out who you are and come back and find Buffy dead, will it be worth it?”
He turned, leaving Spike standing in the dark blue shadows, his blue eyes guarded and troubled. Then the vampire realised he was still holding two brown bags, one of which was dripping ominously.
He turned and walked hurriedly back towards Clem’s rooms. Perhaps if he could just see Buffy, speak to her.
He rounded a rough concrete post, and almost bumped into the Slayer who’d been running to find him. The bags went flying as his hands went out to catch her and, without thinking, he pulled her close and held her as tightly as he could. For seconds she stayed motionless, then her arms wound round his neck and her grasp became as fierce as his own.
to be continued
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Author's Chapter Notes:
We are rapidly approaching crunch time. At the bottom of all their problems lies the question of Slayer versus Vampire.