Chapter Text
Buffy had finally just been about to go to bed when her phone rang. She saw it was Xander calling and a wave of annoyance ran over her. Because she knew what he was calling about. She began pulling her jacket on as she answered it, not bothering to change out of her pajamas.
“We have a problem,” Xander said.
“Figured,” she replied. “What kind of problem?”
“A Spike problem,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, thank you, I actually figured that one out for myself. Care to be more specific?”
“He’s still crazy, Buff,” he said. “I told you this was a bad idea.”
“What’s he doing?” she asked.
“Oh, you know,” he said. “Staring in front of my refrigerator and not opening it. Shouting at invisible people. Punching himself occasionally. I don’t think he can hear me, though, much less see me. It’s like I’m not even here.”
“I’m on my way,” she said. “Even though I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do. Has he tried to leave?”
“No, hasn’t even looked at the front door. I really doubt escape would be on his mind, anyway. He’s the one who told you he had nowhere else to go.”
“Yeah,” Buffy whispered, trying to push the thought out of her head of how small and vulnerable he’d looked when he said that. That was what had led to this idea in the first place, and she knew if Spike couldn’t snap out of it he would be an even bigger burden on Xander than he already was.
She’d hoped he had snapped out of it. She’d come back to get him at night, and that part had been easy, because she’d just asked him to come with her and he’d stood up and followed her without a word. And once outside he immediately seemed much more relaxed and surer of himself. Buffy told him he’d be staying with Xander, but he had to promise to get along and do what he was asked.
He’d looked her right in the eyes and very quietly told her he would. And she’d believed him. He was polite to Dawn and Xander when they arrived to pick them up, and it wasn’t until they were turning onto Xander’s street that he’d let out a cry and shied away from the empty seat next to him, begging…someone not to touch him.
But Buffy had managed to calm him then, even though she’d been sitting on the other side of him and was alarmed at his sudden closeness. She pushed that away and told him to look at her, and he did, in confusion, but recognition seemed to replace that, and, still very quietly, he told her he was sorry.
That had been several hours ago, and so Buffy had been letting herself hope that he was doing fine. But now, knocking on Xander’s door, she didn’t know why she’d let herself think he would magically get over it just like that.
Xander opened it and tilted his head, inviting her in. She took a breath and followed him, with her eyes almost instantly falling on the vampire crouching in the middle of the room, pressing his palms to his eyes and muttering “She won’t understand, she won’t understand…”
“Spike,” she said.
He glanced up and instantly straightened up. “No,” he said. “This isn’t…you’re not supposed to be here.”
“Wow,” Xander said. “Acknowledges you just like that. What am I, chopped liver?”
“Yeah, well I’d like to be asleep by now,” Buffy said. “But apparently you’re having difficulty adjusting.”
“No I’m not,” Spike said. “Adjusting very nicely, getting along, minding my manners, just like you asked…” He moved over to the refrigerator and sagged against it. “Just like you asked,” he whispered. “I do what you ask, Buffy, I have to do what you ask. Please, ask me anything.”
“Okay, then I’m asking you too…” But Buffy knew the rest of that sentence would be a mistake even before she’d started it. This wasn’t the time to be harsh with him. “I’m asking you to tell me what’s wrong,” she said, in a gentler tone.
He laughed, a maniacal laugh that she found was starting to feel very familiar. “Wrong,” he scoffed. “What isn’t wrong? Everything’s wrong. You, me, Xander.”
“You flatter me by remembering my unworthy name, Spike,” Xander said.
“Xander,” Buffy said warningly. She looked back at Spike. “But this is different,” she said. “This is new. And I don’t know where you were or how you got…your soul, but I’m guessing it had something to do with this.”
Spike turned his head, still leaning on the fridge, to look at her. “It hurts,” he said softly.
She nodded. “I know.”
He gave a shuddering sigh and pushed himself up. He wandered over to the corner and slid down it, before burying his face in his hands. “No you don’t,” he moaned. “You can’t know, you’ve never…lost it, and it wasn’t supposed to be like this, it was supposed to…and now it’s here and I don’t know why it’s telling me things or why she comes to me or what I’m supposed to do now, and I just want it gone, Buffy, I just want it out, I just want him to leave me alone…” he trailed off and began sobbing, leaving Buffy feeling slightly whiplashed from the constant changing of pronouns.
But she couldn’t tell him that she had no idea what he was talking about, so instead she walked over and sat down in front of him. She reached her hand out, but she’d only brushed his skin when he gave a sharp gasp and jerked his head away.
“Hey,” she whispered. “It’s just me.”
He was silent for a moment and said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You can’t hurt me, Spike,” she said. “I’m the Slayer, remember?” She was pretty sure he wouldn’t buy that lie, but she felt the need to say it anyway.
“But I did,” he said in a low voice.
Buffy heard Xander make a noise in his throat and start walking towards them, but she raised her hand and held it behind her in warning.
“Well,” she said. “I mean you have tried to kill me plenty of times before, and it’s not like you were—” She was cut off by him giving an anguished cry. “Okay, yeah, bad move, probably shouldn’t have brought up the whole mortal enemies thing,” she said. “But Spike, I’ve hurt you and tried to kill you too, you know. Let’s just call it even, okay?” She was sounding too flippant and she knew it, but that was another lie she hoped he’d swallow.
“Don’t let me hurt you,” he said softly.
“I won’t,” she said firmly. “What, you think I can’t handle myself?” He looked up at her and gave an almost smile, and she grinned in return. “That’s what I thought,” she said. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easily, William. So, come on, you gonna spend the whole night out here, or what? I’m sure your closet is very nice.”
His face instantly darkened, and he began shaking his head. “No,” he said. “No, that’s where…it followed me in there. It made me come out. It told me…”
“Nothing is there, Spike,” Buffy said. “No one is making you do anything.”
“You won’t understand,” he said, starting to tremble. “He said you won’t understand, said you can’t understand.” He buried his face in his hands again and began murmuring so quickly that Buffy couldn’t make out the words, even though she was pretty sure she wouldn’t understand him anyway.
“Buffy,” Xander said, and she reluctantly looked at him. “It’s fine. You were right, whatever’s wrong with him, he’s not about to murder me in my sleep, even if he is hearing voices in his head. You can go home, I’m okay just leaving him there.”
Buffy turned back to Spike, and was again struck with how small and vulnerable he looked. He’d never looked that way before she’d found him in the basement, and now this too was getting familiar. But clearly she wasn’t able to get through to him, and she was about to stand up when she heard something clearly in the babble.
“I don’t know how to find you, Buffy.”
She had no idea what he could mean by that, and she also had no idea why it hit her so hard. But without thinking about it, she moved up next to him. “You asked me to help you be quiet,” she said. “You remember that?”
“You said you made it worse,” he mumbled.
“Maybe I do,” she said. “But I’m willing to try anyway.” She gently pulled him down until his head was lying in her lap. He offered no resistance, but he stopped talking and began silently crying instead. He lay completely still, and she began running her hand over his hair. She’d been doing it for several minutes before she suddenly realized that she’d been zoning out, and looked up to find Xander watching her.
“If you’re about to pass a load of judgement on me you can save it,” she said coldly.
“I’m not,” he said gently. “I just didn’t know you could…do that.”
“What, you think I’ve never had a guy fall asleep in my arms before?”
“Not that. I didn’t know you could…reach him. Know what to say to him. He’s insane and he’s obsessed with you and you’re still jumpy and suspicious of him, and yet you were able to pull out the warm fuzzies just because he needed you to.” He walked over and crouched in front of her. “And hey, I’m the one who called you here, so I must have expected something like this. But, Buffy, you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“He won’t hurt me anymore,” she said stiffly.
“I get that,” he said. “But that’s not the point, is it? Because he did it, it was done, and even he understands that in his looney twisted demon brain. It was a huge deal, and it’s something some people would never forgive.”
“I know,” she said. “But I…” she swallowed. “I do. I do forgive him.” She looked down at the sleeping vampire in her lap. “You hear that, Spike?” she whispered. “I forgive you.”