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Chapter 11 - Fears
It wasn’t often that Giles felt the weight of his
years; he prided himself on being in a fine shape, due in a large part
to his regular training sessions with Buffy. However, that night, he
was reminded quite abruptly that not only had he long ago left his
twenties, but he also was not a Slayer.
Joyce was staying in the hospital and Buffy had asked the gang to take
over patrol for the night so that she could spend more time with her.
It wasn’t an exceptional occurrence in itself; Giles had patrolled with
Willow and Xander often enough in the past to grant Buffy a night off.
But it had rarely gone as badly as now, with the two men pinned to a
crypt’s wall by a female vamp who had more muscles than the two of them
combined. Willow came through, however, and staked the vampiress from
behind with a giddy cry of exultation.
Immediately, laughter and clapping resounded behind Willow, and the
three of them faced the approaching vampire. Spike looked thoroughly
entertained even as he picked up Giles’ glasses from the ground and
returned them to him.
“Well done, Red,” he praised Willow. “Excellent slaying technique. Been watching Buffy closely, have you?”
Sputtering and blushing, Willow punched Spike’s arm – or rather tried
to; she lost her balance halfway through her swing and without Spike
and Xander’s intervention would have become better acquainted with the
ground.
“Not so good marks for the gentlemen, though,” the exasperating blond
continued, his voice mock-scolding now. “I’m beginning to see why all
Slayers are girls.”
Giles sighed heavily and rolled his eyes at the teasing, while Xander
shook his finger at Spike but did not actually come up with a retort.
“At least we were fighting,” Giles pointed out coolly. “Not watching like other people who shall remain unnamed.”
“Or playing no-show like some others,” Willow added.
Spike shrugged and pulled his cigarettes from his duster, quickly lighting one.
“Would have helped if you had needed me,” he said. “Which you didn’t.
As for Buffy, don’t you know she’s at the hospital with her mum?”
“Of course we know,” Xander replied. “That’s why we’re doing this,
isn’t it? Will was not-naming a certain Riley Finn who had promised
he’d be here.”
Spike’s brow furrowed at the mention of Riley, as it always did, but he did not push the subject.
“And why are you here anyway?” Willow questioned abruptly, poking a finger at the vampire’s chest. “Why aren’t you with Buffy?”
For an instant, there was a curious mix of feelings on Spike’s
features, clear annoyance as he glared at the offending finger,
surprise, and almost, Giles thought he saw, pleasure, at Willow’s
words. What could he find so extraordinary in what she had said? Giles
understood when he heard Spike’s falsely gruff answer.
“Summers girls’ night, didn’t want to impose my presence. Plus I supposed you lot would need a hand.”
How long had it been, since Spike had begun patrolling with them? How
long since they had started accepting him as one of the gang? How long
since they had even accepted his relationship with Buffy? Was it still
so hard for him to understand that they had truly welcomed him into the
group? Giles didn’t know what else they could do to prove it to the
stubborn man. And suddenly, he felt even older as he realized that even
Spike, with his hundred plus years of existence, was still behaving
like the other young people, hiding insecurities behind tough manners.
Just as he arrived to Joyce’s room, the three Summers ladies were
preparing to check out, and after a kiss and a hug, Buffy explained
that they were taking her mother home until it was time for the
surgery. He volunteered as a chauffeur, earning a pout from Buffy at
the implied comment about her driving skills, and causing Dawn to
chuckle almost all the way from the hospital to Revello Drive. No one
felt like laughing anymore however once they got out of the car.
“Don’t touch me!” Joyce shrieked. “You vile demon! Corrupting
everything you touch, killing everyone you pretend to love! You should
be burned at the stake!”
Startled and more than a little hurt, Spike let go of Joyce’s arm where
he had been supporting her to guide her to the house. She had uttered a
couple of puzzling statements earlier, but this was different. It
was clearly directed at him, and the words had a ring of truth to them.
“She doesn’t mean it,” Buffy said quickly with an apologetic half-smile. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying…”
“What did I say?”
Joyce’s confused look reassured Spike somehow that she truly hadn’t meant the hurtful words.
“Nothing,” he tried to soothe her. “Let’s get you inside.”
Leaving Buffy to support her mother, he went ahead and opened the door,
turning on the lights until Joyce protested that it was too bright.
Dawn reached for his hand, as she entered after her sister and mother,
and gave it a slight squeeze. She seemed as upset by Joyce’s temporary
bouts of insanity as he was, and he squeezed her hand back, trying to
reassure her a little.
After she had put Joyce in bed, Buffy returned downstairs. She looked
tired already, and Spike couldn’t help but wonder how well taking care
of Joyce at home until the operation was going to work.
“Want me to leave?” he suggested even though that was the last thing he wanted.
She shook her head. “Stay with us? At least for a little while?”
The three of them ended up on the sofa, Buffy’s head on Spike’s
shoulder and Dawn’s on Buffy’s arm as they watched an old movie
together. For a little while, it could have been easy to forget that
everything wasn’t fine in the world; but Joyce wandering downstairs,
clearly unaware of what she was doing or saying, put an end to that
quiet feeling. It was Buffy’s turn to be on the receiving end of a
hurtful tongue, and soon after that, Dawn’s. Spike ached for each of
them, especially Dawn who seemed the most wounded. He and Buffy tried
to talk to her and make it clear that Joyce hadn’t mean what she had
said, but it didn’t make anything easier. What worried him the most
though was that Buffy was taking all of it without hardly ever
flinching. She was hiding too much pain, and while he understood why
she did, he doubted it was good for her, or any of them.
Her mother was finally in bed, but even from the kitchen Buffy could
hear her senseless babble. Things were getting worse, there was no way
to deny it, and she was beginning to regret bringing Joyce home. It had
felt like a very good idea at the time, but more and more Buffy
wondered if she would be able to take care of her. Not only that, but
she had to think of Dawn.
Their mother’s ramblings had spooked the teen earlier, and Spike was
still upstairs with her, playing cards in an attempt to distract her.
Hearing that it wasn’t the first time these kinds of words had been
uttered to her sister had upset Buffy too. What if somehow Joyce had
realized that Dawn wasn’t her daughter? What if she said it clearly
enough that Dawn understood and…
Refusing to let that train of thought continue, Buffy pushed away from
the kitchen counter she had been leaning on and set herself in motion.
Not thinking seemed like the best thing she could do. There was too
much going on, and little she could do about any of it for the moment,
be it Joyce’s illness or Glory’s efforts to find Dawn. Flicking the
radio on to drown her mother’s voice, she concentrated on washing the
dishes. The feel of water felt nice on her hand, soothing. Yet somehow,
it seemed to bring forth more water, now trickling on her cheeks. She
couldn’t have given one reason for her tears, had she been asked.
Instead, she could have given a dozen.
“Let it out, pet. Let it all out.”
The words were no louder than a whisper in the crook of her neck as
Spike pressed against her back and encircled her with his arms. Louder
sobs shook her body, and Buffy turned around to muffle them against his
chest.
He stroked her hair with a gentle hand, stroked her soul with even
gentler words. It felt safe at last to let go of everything she had
been bottling up, all the fear she couldn’t quell and the demons she
couldn’t slay. She cried and cried, until there were no tears left in
her and her sobbing finally subsided. She remained in Spike’s arms even
then, wanting to thank him but afraid that talking now would give way
to another round of tears. Instead, she held him a little closer, and
he seemed to understand because he murmured, “Love you too”, and that
was all she needed to hear. They continued to hold on to each other,
the only sound now her still ragged but gradually calming breathing.
A frantic shout from Dawn broke the silence, and all hell seemed to break loose.
The next minutes were a blur as Buffy rushed up the stairs, Spike only
half a step behind her. They fought the creature that had invaded the
house, luring it downstairs and away from Dawn and Joyce. They fumbled
a little at first, they weren’t used to fighting together in such
narrow spaces, but eventually the creature was dead, and Buffy was
huddled against Spike again. Just for a second, she told herself. A
second of comfort and then she would go check on her mom and Dawn,
although from what she had briefly seen upstairs they seemed fine.
She was still in Spike’s arms when the front door brusquely flew open
to give way to Riley and half a dozen commandos. She could feel Spike
tense at the sight of what appeared to be the Initiative, second
edition, and she suddenly was the one offering comfort to her upset
lover.
Two days later, the damn bug from outer space was nothing but a bad memory and Joyce was back in the hospital, awaiting surgery.
She talked to Dawn first, and when she came out of the room, the Bit
was smiling despite the tears in her eyes. She and Buffy hugged, then
it was Buffy’s turn to talk to her mum, and somehow Dawn transferred
the hug to me. I wished I could have reassured her and told her
everything would be fine. But after our talk about lying to
protect other people, I didn’t feel like I had a right to pretend I
knew any better than she did. Buffy stayed in there a few minutes; I
could hear their voices on the edge of my consciousness, and I would
only have needed to focus to understand what they were saying, but I
did not invade their privacy.
To my surprise, when Buffy came out she said Joyce wanted to talk to
me. I’ll admit I entered that room not exactly in the best state of
mind, unsure as to what to expect. Even knowing that Joyce hadn’t been
herself when she had said those things about me, I found it hard to
forget them, because they resonated too deeply with things I had
thought or worried about myself. I wondered if she was going to
apologize for them.
Rather than to appear to be fidgeting, I kept my hands balled inside my
pockets as I approached her bed, and gave her a hesitant smile that she
returned instantly.
“Spike. I’m glad you’re here.”
Unsure what to answer, I made some kind of noise that could pass for an agreement.
“I mean, not here, here,” she added, frowning to herself. “Although,
yes, I’m glad for that too. Buffy does everything she can to look
strong but I know her, I know she appreciates your support. And so do
I.”
Still nothing to say. It wasn’t the time or the place for me to express my wish that Buffy would lean more on me than she did.
“I have a request for you,” she continued after a brief pause, and her
seriousness made me guess that this was what she had wanted to see me
for.
“Anything,” I replied, and meant it. She smiled.
“I’m sure I don’t need to ask you but… If something bad happens to me, will you please take care of my girls?”
I wanted to scold her for even thinking about it, but like with Dawn
earlier, I couldn’t. None of us knew what would happen, and yes, it
might be bad.
“You know I will,” I assured her. “But I do hope you’ll be back to full
form soon and swinging an axe at me so that I’ll stay away from your
daughter.”
My attempt at humor fell flat as sorrow filled Joyce’s eyes.
“I am sorry,” she murmured.
“Joyce…”
“No, let me say this. Almost two years ago I tried to push you out of
Buffy’s life because I thought… I thought she deserved better than you.
I thought she’d be happier with someone normal. I believe now that I
was wrong, and I am thankful that you didn’t listen to me. She’s happy
with you, Spike. Keep her happy.”
Again, there wasn’t much I could say to that. I grinned like an idiot
and thanked her. Somehow, her approval meant a lot to me. So much for
the Big Bad, heh?
I almost told her, then, how I had lost my soul. Almost told her how
much her affection, with the Bit’s and Buffy’s, meant to me. But a
nurse entered and the moment was lost. It’s one of my biggest regrets,
never having told her.
They took her away, and the waiting started. The whole gang was there,
even Riley; I played nice and ignored him like he ignored me. Although
there was something off about him, a lingering scent of blood that
would be explained soon enough.
We waited for what felt like an eternity, and finally heard the good
news; the surgery had gone perfectly and Joyce was tumor free.
We didn’t know it at the time, of course, but that didn’t mean she was saved.
Next Chapter ~ Heaven's Key index ~ Spuffy Menu
The characters and names used in these stories do not belong to me. All copyrights remain with Fox and Mutant Enemy. No profit is made from this fanfiction.
