Confronting Darkness

The rain whipped her face, stinging its cold flesh. She was running hard, her trainers were soaked through and she could feel the wetness clinging to her toes. Water filled her eyes, obscuring her vision and finally forcing her to stop.

“This is turning out to be one bad day.” She grumbled.

Buffy stood still in the centre of the cemetery, wiping water from her eyes as she scouted the horizon. The demon she had been chasing was nowhere to be seen.

Wind caused her wet hair to whip her cheeks like a cat-o-nine-tails and she struggled to peel it away and smooth it back. It was now nothing more than a tangled mess, a few blocks back it had been perfect.

She’d had been walking to the cinema with her friends, sharing Willow’s umbrella and enjoying a sense of normality, a day off from her Slayer duties, or so she thought. As they turned into the main street, Xander had been knocked to the floor by a Polgarra demon and Buffy had immediately sprung into action. A few kicks later and she was pounding the asphalt in pursuit.

Back in the cemetery, Buffy had her eyes closed, listening hard for anything other than heavy raindrops slapping the ground. She opened her eyes and looked at the earth. Slick wet mud with tufts of grass. Little splashes where the rain finally ended its journey from the heavens.

Raising her eyes to the sky, she watched the wind sweeping the rain in droves, bending it to its will. Her warm breath turned opaque in the air and caught the wind. Her skin was turning to gooseflesh and as she touched it, she felt cold like her grave.

A noise, a distant slap on the mud, drew her attention back to the world. Slipping her stake from her waistband, she turned rapidly to face the intruder, raising the pointed piece of wood at the ready.

Spike instinctively jumped back a step and looked at her cautiously; she was like a drowned rat. He’d been walking home with his groceries when she’d blurred past him, not even registering his presence. His first impulse had been to shout abuse over being ignored but then she had been hot on the heels of a demon at the time so he let it slide.

Now, here she was in front of him, enjoying the sensation of her own cold wet flesh. He’d watched her rub her hands along her arms and as she lowered her weapon, she did so again.

Receiving a look from her that clearly said ‘what do you want?’ Spike knew that he’d interrupted her thoughts but not her hunt.

He risked a step closer to where she stood and tilted his head to look at her. She looked flustered by his gaze and her brows knit into a tiny frown as she played with her stake.

Buffy pouted and stomped her foot--muddying her trainers even more. She sighed out in frustration. First, the demon had rudely interrupted her night out and now Spike was giving her the silent ardour treatment. It was more than she could stand right now.

Spike knew she was in the kind of mood that had a dusty ending for him written all over it and decided it was wisest to leave her alone. He turned away from her and started to walk.

“You’re leaving?” Buffy was surprised. She had wanted him to go but hadn’t expected him to. Spike always helped her when they chanced to meet but tonight he wasn’t and it chilled her to the bone. Even he was turning his back on her.

He just turned to face her and pointed to his crypt where it was situated only a hundred yards away, and then began walking towards it again.

Buffy stood there, cold and alone, more alone than she’d felt in a long time. If she followed him it would look like she was seeking his company but the reality was that she could really use it right now. The rain was fogging her senses and she knew his would be practically crystal clear.

Deep inside her the Buffy side told her it was more than that. Spike had all the right answers to her questions, knew what she needed before she did and knew how to make her feel. The Slayer in her told her to take it and run with it, use him to make herself feel, but her more human side kept saying it was wrong, self-destructive and would be the death of what little her and Spike had shared.

For all her destiny that led her to be eternally alone, the chosen one, even when surrounded by friends, Buffy had learnt that they were important. She needed people to help her, support her and back her up in fights, and that included Spike.

Looking up from watching the rain displacing mud, she saw him standing in the doorway of his crypt. He blew smoke in her direction as his free hand tapped against his thigh, drawing her attention to the towel he held there.

Always knows what you want…

Buffy brushed the water from her face and felt on edge. She badly needed to feel but not at the expense of hurting both herself and Spike—it was too great a price to pay.

Right now, she would bravely go to him for a few moments sanctuary from the rain. He would smile inwardly that she had come to him but she knew that he wouldn’t make a show. He didn’t go in for that anymore. The few times she’d come to him for help, or someone to talk to, he hadn’t made a fuss of it—he’d just invited her into his world for a while and given her a place to hide away from her own.

As she approached, he slipped back inside and Buffy followed. On entering his crypt she smiled at him where he was holding the door open in his usual manner, half gentleman and half predator. Come into my lair said the vampire to the Slayer.

Once she was in, he let the heavy door slam shut and walked off across the room.

“Sit anywhere.” He called out from the recesses of his makeshift home.

When he came back, he noticed she’d chosen to sit in his favourite armchair. Handing her a towel, he came to rest opposite her, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees and his hands hung limply in front of him.

“Polgarra.” Spike stated in a matter of fact manner. “Pretty dumb, thought you would have had no problem with it.”

“Rain.” Buffy dried her hair carefully then noticed Spike was staring at her shirt—it was clinging to her flesh.

“So I see.” He raised an eyebrow at her and grinned.

Buffy brought the towel down and covered herself. She sat hesitant and quiet for a few moments and then looked up at the blond vampire as he continued to stare at her. She tried to think of something to say, something that would break the silence and get the conversation flowing so she wouldn’t feel as awkward. She smiled as she caught Spike’s eye.

“Don’t suppose you would lend me your senses for the night? The rain’s playing havoc with mine and there’s no way I’ll be able to track the demon…without you.”

Spike perked up on hearing that—she couldn’t hunt the demon without him. She needed him.

He thought about it for a moment, looking himself over and realising that he wouldn’t get any wetter than he already was. Nodding slightly, he watched her smile and then walked over to his fridge, taking down the bottle of bourbon that was sitting on top of it and pulling the cork out with his teeth. Taking a swig, he offered it to Buffy and waited patiently while she tried to make her mind up.

Buffy stared at the half empty bottle, trying to come to a decision as to whether she wanted a drink or not. She was freezing cold and the idea of a nice stiff drink to warm her through was terribly appealing. Before she could think of an argument against taking the drink that Spike was offering her, her hand was grasping the bottle and she was knocking back the whisky. She grimaced as it burned her throat, instantly heating her through and chasing the chill from her bones. Closing her eyes, she held onto the bottle firmly and started slightly as Spike took it from her.

“Thanks.” She mumbled to her knees as Spike smirked and took another long swig from the bottle.

“Bloody freezing out there, didn’t want you catching cold.” He smiled at her as he replaced the cork and put the bottle back on the fridge. “We going then?”

“Now?” Buffy asked, not hiding how stunned she was over how quickly he wanted to go after the demon. She’d thought that now he had her in his crypt he’d be reluctant to let her leave, especially when it involved going out into a stormy night like tonight.

Spike just shrugged. It wasn’t that he wanted to go out, he’d do anything to just to spend the evening in his crypt with Buffy, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“Figured you might want to get the demon, love.” He frowned for a moment and then started towards the door. There was no point in waiting until they were both dry before going out to hunt down the Polgarra. Stopping by the weapons chest, he took out his axe and then looked over his shoulder at Buffy.

She hadn’t moved.

“Something wrong?” He asked and she seemed to rouse herself from her thoughts.

“No, not at all.” Buffy stood quickly and sniffed, wiping her nose on the back of her hand as she tried to stop herself from sneezing. Walking towards Spike, she twirled her stake and resisted pulling a face over having to go back out into the rain.

“Let’s move then.” Spike held the door open for her and watched her walk past, her shoulders hunching up as the wind and rain hit her again.

Buffy pulled her little jacket closer around herself as she battled through the elements. She frowned as the water dripped of her eyebrows and into her eyes, marring her vision as she tried to search out the demon. She cast a glance at Spike as he came up beside her, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and a friendly smile on his face as they stood together in the pouring rain.

“Nice weather for it.” Spike smirked and felt a little warmer inside as she smiled involuntarily.

She hadn’t smiled much recently. It was nice to see that twinkle in her eye and the curve of her lips for a few seconds before she shut it down again.

“Let’s go.” Buffy nodded in the direction she’d last seen the Polgarra heading and began walking.

The ground was slippery underfoot, the wind was making the rain hit them both directly in the face and she was silently thankful when they reached the trees that lined the edge of the cemetery and it gave them a little shelter from the elements.

Spike kept up with her the whole time she stalked through the headstones. He could see she was freezing, her body was so tense and her shoulders so hunched up as she tried to protect herself against the weather. For a moment, he considered offering her his jacket but then he thought the better of it. They had been getting along better over the past few weeks but there was no way she was going to accept that much kindness from him.

At least, not yet.

He watched her as she idly played with her stake as she scanned their surroundings. As she looked up at him with large green questioning eyes, he did as she was silently instructing him to and extended his senses in order to locate the demon.

At first there was nothing on his radar, but after a few seconds of searching a faint signature registered and it wasn’t human. Pointing in the direction that led towards Buffy’s home, he wondered if once they’d killed the demon she would leave immediately. He was a fool for thinking she’d want to spend time with him but he couldn’t help himself.

He’d not questioned her once about why she’d come to him so many times over the past few weeks. Something about the quiet manner in which she came into his crypt every other night made him believe that there was more to it than just patrolling. She came to talk, she came to sit with him and then she always panicked and ran away.

Spike raised his eyes to the sky as the rain began to let off, and in the distance, he could see breaks in the heavy storm clouds. Taking the lead, he continued to track the demon for Buffy while keeping part of his senses trained on her.

He always kept his senses trained on her these days. It was as though he feared that if he didn’t, she’d slip away again or something would happen to her like it did last time he had failed to look after her.

Buffy watched the raindrops as they ran down Spike’s leather coated back and sighed. She didn’t know what she expected from him anymore. Since coming back, he’d been the only one who understood her and let her be herself. She knew his feelings for her, knew what he could offer her and she was growing so desperate to feel that she was almost ready to take it all like her Slayer side wanted.

But there was still the part of her, of her heart, that couldn’t do that to him, even though he was a vampire. He was beneath her.

Or was he?

She shook her head to clear it of those kinds of thoughts and looked down at her stake. There were only two solutions to her pain as far as she could see. She either found a way to get back in touch with her feelings, and everything that was worthy in the world, or she ended it all.

Wouldn’t she go to hell if she committed suicide?

“You’re quiet.” Spike stated as he dropped back a few steps and fell into line with her.

“Sorry.” Buffy mumbled the apology and slipped her stake back into her pocket.

Spike frowned at the way she had been staring at her weapon. He’d seen those looks on her face a lot recently and they made his stomach squirm each time. He wasn’t blind, he could see that she wasn’t happy and that she needed someone to give her a reason to live.

She’d been done. She’d been happy. She’d been in heaven.

Now she was in hell.

Someone had to show her how to live.

Maybe, just maybe, that someone could be him.

“You look like you need a little cheering up.” He commented and she shrugged.

“I’m okay.”

“Most people who say that aren’t okay, you know. Come on, Buffy, why don’t we just call this whole thing off and go talk?”

Buffy stopped dead and gave him an incredulous look. “What?”

Was he really suggesting that they go back to his crypt and talk about why she wasn’t feeling okay? Did she just hear him right?

“I mean…I don’t like seeing you this way.”

“What way, Spike?” She frowned.

He could tell by the way she’d said his name that he was standing on thin ice and he wasn’t in the mood for fighting with her. It was too damn cold and he was too damn soaked to be going down that route.

“Forget it.” He waved his hand dismissively and started walking again.

Buffy glared at his back and then began following him.

“You really need someone to make you happy, or a bloody good kiss.” Spike muttered and then flinched as he heard her stop walking.

He knew what she’d look like if he turned around, knew the anger that would be shining in her eyes and knew that her stake would no longer be hidden in her pocket.

Buffy stared at his back again, feeling disturbed by what he’d said and unsure of what to say. Since coming back, she’d been open with him about things but she hadn’t been that open. She wanted to be happy. She wanted to be loved. But as far as she could see, there was no one here that wanted to really do that for her. Everyone was handling her with kid gloves, they were all looking at her like she was a ticking time bomb and they were scared she’d go off if they made an attempt to help her.

As Spike turned to look at her, she could see the apology in his eyes but instead of taking it, she pushed past him and quickened her pace until she was practically jogging.

“It didn’t sound like that when I thought it.” Spike growled in unison with the thunder grumbling overhead. He was getting soaked, he was cold, and the last thing he needed right now was an angry Slayer on his hands.

“You thought it? You thought it?” Buffy turned on him with a look of disbelief then carried on walking.

“I was just saying, love, that’s all.”

“And what were you trying to say, Spike? Because you made yourself pretty clear to me.” Buffy wrinkled her nose into a frown and continued storming along towards the cemetery gates. It seemed like every time she came to him it would end with them fighting, and the more they fought the worse she felt inside.

“Just that you need to kick back and think about life a little.”

“Oh, I’m fine with life. I’m full of the damn stuff. See how happy I am? Although according to the things you’ve said to me over the past few weeks… I don’t play well with others, I’m alone, I can’t keep a boyfriend happy and I myself am unhappy. The only company I have is an insecure toothless vampire.” Buffy stopped still and spat the last part out at him.

“Listen, pet, we’ve already established that I’m not as toothless as you thought I was, so don’t give me that little speech.” Spike grasped her firmly by the shoulders but she shook herself free.

“God, I do need a life if you’re the only company I have. I need something to make me happy.” Buffy felt her reserve crumbling the longer she stood looking at Spike. Shaking her head, she carried on walking into the woody path on the perimeter of the cemetery.

“I know a vampire that could make you happy.” Spike dropped to walking a few feet behind her so she couldn’t stake him.

“I don’t think Angel and me work anym… oh. Oh!” Buffy was wide-eyed and listening closely to Spike walking behind her, her heart pounding wildly against her chest as she thought about the implications of what he’d said. “You don’t really love me, you just think you do, it’s a twisted obsession.”

Spike caught her arm and span her around. Holding her tightly by the shoulders, he pushed her out onto the path under a streetlight.

“Look in my eyes and tell me I don’t love you.” Spike’s face softened as he looked at her, his eyes narrowed and he raised his brows slightly.

Buffy averted her eyes and kept telling herself that he didn’t love her. Vampires can’t love and she certainly didn’t believe what Drusilla had said. But Spike and Drusilla had been in love, she’d seen it so many times when they were together, they’d cared for each other and looked after each other more than her and Angel ever had.

And now Spike loved her.

Spike shook her with impatience and she blinked. Bringing her eyes up to meet his, she inwardly cursed herself the second they fixed on each other. It was clearly written across the softened lines of his face. The gentle look in his eyes spoke volumes to her and she lost the power to deny the fact that he loved her. It was all there in his eyes, the pain and the suffering of being repeatedly knocked down by the one he loved. She felt terrible inside, wretched, as though she was the evil one and he was the little lamb about to be devoured by the wolf.

She was the soulless one.

“Sorry.” Buffy backed away from him and covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

She felt less than human. Even a vampire was feeling emotions that were currently unattainable to her. She hurriedly tried to think over who had said that people needed a soul to love, or even a heart. No one had ever sat her down and said ‘if it doesn’t have a soul it can’t love’ when she was little. It was only when Angel came on the scene and the whole vampire slaying started that she had been repeatedly told that. Maybe it was just a scare tactic to make her slay them easier, knowing they don’t feel emotions. Spike had always clearly been emotional, all of them, anger, hate, love, passion, fear and even remorse.

Speaking of remorse.

“Buffy.” He caught her arm and forced her to stop.

She kept her face turned away from him so he wouldn’t see the impact he was having on her and waited for him to speak.

“I’m sorry, love.” He murmured the words so softly that she found herself keeping still as he stepped towards her and gently ran his fingers down her hair. “I just don’t want to see you throw in the towel, that’s all. I missed you when you were gone. I don’t think I could face that again.”

Buffy closed her eyes and heaved a sigh.

He was so tender, more tender than Angel had ever been with her and he understood her so well. Stepping backwards, she felt her stomach flip with nerves as she backed into him and her hand searched for his.

Spike’s eyes widened as he felt her cold fingers slip into his and he gave her a soft smile as she turned her head and looked over her shoulder at him, right into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, too.” Buffy spoke the words with quiet trepidation and felt her heart beating sickeningly hard against her chest. “Can we…like you said?”

“Talk?” He watched her nod and smiled. “Sure.”

Not relinquishing his grip on her hand so she couldn’t change her mind, Spike led her back to his crypt. The rain was beginning to stop, and the sky was rapidly clearing. He knew that they would need to go out and hunt the Polgarra later, but right now she was the only thing that mattered.

He had to save her from her demons.

He had to show her how to live again.


Buffy offered him a shy smile as he held the door to his crypt open for her and she walked through into the grey expanse of his home.

Spike shut the door and then looked around the crypt like she was. It was hardly a comforting looking safe place like the kind she needed in order to get all the dark thoughts out of herself and open up to him.

Grabbing the bottle of whisky, he took hold of her hand again, ignoring the way she started slightly on feeling his fingers wrapping around hers.

“Want to go some place a little more comfortable?” He asked her softly, keeping his voice as gentle as possible and forcing all emotion from it. The last thing he needed was her getting the idea that he was coming on to her. As much as he wanted her, all he wanted to do right now was put her back on her feet again so she could be the strong woman he used to know.

Buffy didn’t know what to say so she simply nodded.

She let her eyes roam blankly around the crypt as he led her to the far end and then frowned as his hand left hers. She realised they had stopped in front of a hole in the floor and that he was climbing down a rickety wooden ladder that was the makeshift stairs to his basement.

Not knowing what to expect, she followed him wordlessly and then felt oddly warm inside as he took hold of her hand again. She couldn’t tell whether he was just making the most of her allowing him to touch her, or whether he was doing it to comfort her. Either way, she liked the way his skin felt against hers, and the way it made her feel safe.

She’d not felt this safe in a long time.

She’d never believed she’d find this comforting sensation in his crypt, with his hand locked firmly with hers, but here she was, experiencing it. It made her smile slightly as she looked down at his long fingers where they were entwined with hers and she watched the soothing motion of his thumb as it brushed lightly against hers.

There was something sedating about the way he did that, the slow tender motion of his thumb against hers, the feather light touch that let her know he cared.

She got the same warm feeling in the pit of her stomach when he gave her that head tilt of his, or pushed a strand of hair out of her face.

It was the little things he did that made the most impact on her.

The times when he wasn’t even thinking, wasn’t trying to make her love him.

She smiled properly this time.

Spike turned to find a serene smile curving her lips and he watched it disappear as he took his hand away from hers. For a second, he wanted to take hold of her hand again in the hopes that her smile would return, but the moment was gone and he let it slip away.

Buffy noticed her new surroundings for the first time and realised that Spike hadn’t been lying when he’d said they could go somewhere more comfortable.

Her eyes traversed the large room, its floor covered by several oriental rugs and the queen sized bed sitting nestled in amongst chests of drawers and small cabinets. The bed was laid with plush covers and finished with pillows that were fluffier than her own. She smiled at the lamps that were scattered around the place, adding a touch of elegance to what could only be described as his boudoir.

Spike’s eyes widened slightly as she sat down on the bed, slipping her shoes off and arranging herself in a comfortable Indian style position. She gave him an expectant look and he decided to join her.

As Spike moved, Buffy realised there was other furniture in the room, namely two large couches and it was clear he had expected her to choose to sit on them, rather than the bed. Not wanting to look like she hadn’t seen the sofas, she decided to stay on the bed and act as though she’d intentionally sat there.

“Want a drink?” Spike offered her the bottle. “Might help.”

Buffy nodded as her throat began to tighten as she thought about what she was here to do. She’d never been any good at speaking to people about her feelings. Her mother had spent hundreds of dollars trying to get her to talk to a therapist after the school incident in Los Angeles, but she hadn’t made any progress. She just clammed up when someone asked her to talk about herself, and now she was going to tell Spike.

Knocking back a healthy mouthful of the alcohol, she hoped it would loosen her tongue and would give her the confidence to speak.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Spike. When she thought about it, she realised that he was high on her list of trustworthy people. It wasn’t just that no one would believe him anyway, it was that she knew he wouldn’t tell anyone in the first place. Anything she said to him would be locked away and cherished by him.

As she remembered what she’d said to him earlier, she felt terrible inside. She had lashed out at him because of her own lack of feeling, wanting to make him feel like he didn’t have any emotions just so she would feel better about herself.

It was so wrong that she didn’t even know how to go about rectifying it. He had probably forgiven her after she acquiesced to the fact that he did love her. She hadn’t believed what she’d said—she’d just done it to spite him.

She knew he loved her, he didn’t need to say the words for her to see that.

Swallowing another mouthful of the whisky, she handed it back to him and tried to shuffle into a more comfortable position.

Spike slipped his boots off and tried not to think about how wet they were making his bed. Swigging the whisky as a show of solidarity to Buffy, he placed it back on the side and waited for her to speak.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, he realised that she needed a little help. He could see the conflict in her eyes, and in her body language. Every time she’d come to him so far, he’d always been the one to get the conversation rolling and then she ran with it.

“Outside, in the rain, when I bumped into you… what were you thinking?”

She looked confused.

“I watched you running your fingers over your skin. Did you like how cold it was, or did it scare you?”

Buffy pushed her hair behind her ear and ducked her head as she thought about what he’d said. She hadn’t really thought about what she’d done at the time, but now that he’d pointed it out she couldn’t avoid it.

She had been lost in her own world, feeling the chill of her skin and thinking.

“It reminded me… made me think of being…” She felt her throat tighten as she tried to push the word out. She hated thinking about what had happened, and how long she’d been gone.

“Dead?” Spike said for her and furrowed his brows slightly as she nodded solemnly. “It’s okay to say the word, love. I know it hurts but it might help. It might help you confront it.”

Buffy nodded, feeling suddenly like she was nothing more than a small girl and that Spike was some kind of teacher. Someone who was trying to help her learn to deal with what had happened to her. When she’d spoken to him in the past, she’d felt better for telling him things about being in heaven and now it was time to get the darkness out of her so it didn’t consume her like it was threatening to.

“Dead.” She whispered the word and slowly raised her eyes to meet his.

Spike brushed his fingers lightly against her cheek and offered her a comforting smile. “Know that feeling well, only… I didn’t get to wake up.”

Buffy frowned at what he’d said and then realised that he was only being honest. He was a dead man walking, a reanimated corpse that housed a demon and a man at the same time. She couldn’t imagine the conflict that reigned inside him sometimes, especially when his feelings for her fought their way to the surface. She’d seen the internal battle in his eyes sometimes, and it was a rare occasion that the demon won over the human side.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth and she recalled what he’d said earlier. He wasn’t as toothless as he used to be. In fact, around her at least, he was back to being the vampire he’d been when she’d first met him, but at the same time he wasn’t. He was more man than demon now, he was in love with her and in Spike that brought out loyalty and a mean protective streak.

That’s why she knew he wouldn’t tell anyone, and that’s why she trusted that he just wanted to help her confront the darkness inside of her.

She smiled internally as she thought about the fact that now he could kill her, he just wanted to protect her. Everything seemed so much simpler now that she knew she was dealing with a fully functioning vampire again. For some reason, it made his feelings for her seem more real. They weren’t because of the chip. They weren’t because he couldn’t kill her. She’d believed him last year when he’d told her that he didn’t want these feelings.

He couldn’t help them, just like she couldn’t help hers.

Love wasn’t something you found, it was something that found you.

And it always found you the second you stopped looking for it.

Spike frowned as he saw her smile and then found himself smiling along with her. He didn’t want to break into her thoughts by asking what she was thinking, he just wanted to bask in how good it felt to see her finally smiling for real again.

Sipping the bottle of whisky, he watched her small hand as it wrapped around the glass, taking it from his mouth and bringing it to her own.

“What’s wrong, Buffy?” His tone was gentle as he kept his eyes fixed on her. “Tell me.”

There was a hint of desperation in his voice that Buffy couldn’t miss and it made her feel for him. He was having to watch her as she moved through life like a zombie, not telling anyone what was wrong with her. She had barriers up that were stronger than Fort Knox and she wasn’t letting anyone in. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel if she was in his shoes, if she was watching someone she loved deeply getting ready to throw in the towel on life.

She felt her chest tighten as she settled on those words. She didn’t want to give in on life, she didn’t want to die, not again. She wanted to live more than anything, wanted to feel so badly that she was willing to do anything in order to achieve it. She’d thought about hurting herself, thought about going to see Angel just to see if he evoked anything in her. She’d thought about using Spike.

She was so lost.

“Help me.” She whispered the words to her knees as she curled up and then closed her eyes as silence ensued.

Spike frowned at first and then moved towards her, cupping her cheek with his hand and feeling her trembling against him. Wrapping his arms around her, he breathed in deeply as she settled her head against his neck and then closed his eyes as she moved closer to him.

Buffy felt sick to the stomach with nerves as she uncurled slightly and grasped his t-shirt with her fingers. She wanted to cry until she felt ill, wanted to bury herself in his embrace and lose herself in how comforting it felt. She’d lost so much in such a short space of time, had faced so much danger and seen so much pain. She felt as though she was drowning in it all. Her mother, her own death, seeing how upset everyone was to lose her, seeing how upset Spike was, and then being ripped from heaven just as she’d grown accustomed to being there.

The moment she’d seen him, the second he’d walked back into her life, she had realised that nothing between them could ever be the same.

And she didn’t want it to be.

He’d been the safe port in the storm, the one who had offered her a quiet place to hide away from the world, and the one who had given her comfort without saying a word.

“I’ll help you, love.” Spike whispered the words to her as he cradled her in his arms, holding her gently so he didn’t risk hurting her.

Buffy sniffed back the tears and smiled slightly as she realised that tonight was the first time she’d cried since coming back. The only trouble was she didn’t know how to stop crying now that she’d started.

Closing her eyes, she frowned as a wave of sleepiness hit her. She’d not been able to sleep at night since coming back. The few times she had manage to drift off, she’d awoken sharply from nightmares of being trapped in her coffin again and digging herself out before she suffocated.

“Spike?” Buffy said the word quietly into his chest as he held onto her.

“Mmm, love?” The sound of her voice roused him from his reverie of how nice it felt to have her in his arms.

Buffy pulled back slightly and looked up at him with a lost expression, her lower lip trembling as she succumbed to all the wretched thoughts that were spinning around her head.

“What’s wrong with me?”

He felt the words hit him hard in the chest and he wished he could chase away everything that was making her feel as though there was something wrong with her.

“Nothing.” He said honestly and watched her nose wrinkle as she frowned.

“There’s got to be something wrong. I feel…I don’t feel, Spike. I don’t feel. I’m heartless, soulless…” She bit her lip as his brows contracted into a frown. She hadn’t meant for it to sound as though she was saying he couldn’t feel, it had just come out like that. “Why can’t I feel? I want to, Spike…I want to be me again, not this shell, this person that everyone has to push into feeling.”

“Who told you that you don’t feel?” Spike picked up on the hidden meaning behind her words. It wasn’t that she felt she didn’t feel anything, it was that someone had told her she didn’t, and she’d foolishly believed them.

Buffy was silent for a moment and then whispered. “Willow.”

“Well she’s bloody wrong as usual, isn’t she?”

“She is?” Her brows rose in curiosity.

“You feel, you just think you don’t.”

“I do?”

Spike smiled at how incredulous she looked. She was sitting up now, staring at him with wide questioning eyes as though he was about the reveal the answer to all her problems, as though he was going to save her.

“How do you feel right now?” He asked her and she frowned so hard that he swore he could see her trying to get a hold on her emotions.

Buffy looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Scared.”

“Well, that’s a feeling isn’t it? You’re frightened that you don’t feel, which in itself is a feeling. You were bloody angry with me earlier, and you were crying your little heart out just a moment ago. You do feel, Buffy, you’re just easing back into life, that’s all. There’s no need to rush.” Spike ran his fingers lightly over her hair and smiled as her brows smoothed, her face lighting up as she half smiled at him.

“When you put it that way…” She continued to smile for a moment and then her face darkened again. “But… I only feel like this when I’m…”

Spike noted the way she’d cut herself off mid-sentence and finished it for her. “With me? Figured that out, too. Maybe it’s because I don’t go round forcing you to feel, or trying to make you the Buffy you used to be. Maybe it’s because I’m just happy to have you back.”

Buffy swigged the bottle of whisky again as she thought about everything he’d said. It was ridiculously simple now that he’d pointed it all out to her and she wondered why she couldn’t see it for herself. Had her friends blinded her so much by fussing over her and treating her as though she wasn’t normal?

Spike had just been there for her, had kept her company and let her find her own way, just occasionally giving her a nudge in the right direction.

For once in all the time that she’d known him, he’d done the right thing.

Placing the bottle on the floor beside the bed, she looked at Spike for a moment and then curled up against him. She closed her eyes as he responded exactly like she was hoping he would, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on top of her head.

“You alright?” He let his cheek press against her hair and closed his eyes as she drew a deep breath and sighed it out.

“I will be.” She said as he lightly brushed her arm with his hand, soothing her and smoothing out all the negative thoughts that had been stuck in her head. “Just keep doing that, and I will be.”

Spike smiled and continued the motion of his hand against her skin. He sighed out through his nose as she tried to get closer to him and he wondered just when she’d dropped the barrier and let him into her heart.

It dawned on him that it had happened before she came back, it had happened before she’d died. She’d been stood on the stairs just before the final fight and he’d seen it in her eyes as he looked up at her.

She’d seen him, and he’d seen her.

Really seen her.

“There’s a demon on the loose.” Buffy mumbled against his chest as she began to feel sleepy.

“There’s always a demon on the loose.” Spike answered her as he felt her beginning to drift away.

“We should go get it.”

“I’ll get it.” Spike smiled at the fact she’d said ‘we’ and then went to move.

“No, stay…” She murmured and Spike realised that he’d have to settle for slaying one demon tonight, the one inside his girl.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, baby?” He felt a little nervous on calling her that but it soon disappeared as she nuzzled his neck.

“Don’t let go.”

Spike held her a little tighter. “Never.”

“Spike?” She smiled against his chest.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Tell me you love me.”

He sighed and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I love you.”

Buffy pulled back a little and looked into his eyes, fighting away all the fear and the sickening nerves in her stomach as she wrestled with the words she wanted to say.

“Spike?” She whispered as he cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes on hers.

“Yeah, Buffy?” He watched her eyes narrow with her smile as she looked at him.

“Kiss me.”

Spike tugged her gently towards him and slowly brought his mouth down to hers, letting his lips brush against her soft ones and closing his eyes as she began to kiss him back.

Buffy felt warm inside, a volcano of heat making her stomach flip and bubble as his arms wrapped tight around her, holding her as close to him as he could get her and kissing her deeply. She closed her eyes and lost herself in him as the world around them drifted into the background.

For the first time since coming back, she felt alive.

It wasn’t his words that had stirred this feeling, or the fact that she’d faced the first of her demons and won.

It wasn’t his kiss that made her feel this way.

It was because she knew that no matter what happened he would always be there for her, would always be the one to hold her and look after her, and she could always be open with him.

It was because she wasn’t alone anymore, because they were together.

And most of all, it was because he would always love her, unconditionally.

Just like she loved him.


~*~ End ~*~

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