Chapter Five


Author's note: Sorry for the delay! Real life got a bit hectic. I'm hoping to have a few updates this week to make up for it. A big thanks to all those reviewing and to everyone reading.


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She hardly left her room for the rest of the morning, worriedly watching over Spike and wishing for his speedy recovery. He slept often but fitfully, waking several times with a cry and startling her. He would then lie there with his eyes closed, not talking but not sleeping either. It was in these moments when she wished she could reach out for him, when she found herself worrying about him the most.

The silence made her edgy and finally, it came to a point where she could bear it no longer.

“Spike, talk to me,” she whispered desperately, watching him with pained eyes as he slowly opened his eyes and turned his head towards her. He smiled weakly and then his expression filled with pain and he dropped his gaze from hers. Some impulse pushed her to her feet and she moved to his side, perching on the bed. He watched her with wide eyes but did not move as she settled beside him.

“What should I say?” he murmured softly, eyes fluttering closed.

“Anything,” she replied, unable to stop herself from reaching out and resting her hand on his shoulder. He jumped at her touch but soon relaxed, letting out a long deep breath and closing his eyes.

“M’scared,” he got out, so quietly she almost missed it.

“Scared of what?”

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes once more, avoiding her gaze and staring at the ceiling instead.

“Scared that this isn’t real.”



She paused for a moment and then she moved her hand from his shoulder, tracing it down his arm and twining her fingers in his.

“Does this feel real?”

He swallowed hard and turned to look at her, blue eyes swimming with emotion.

“Yes.”

She tugged on his hand and brought it to her face, pressing the back of his hand against her cheek.

“And this?”

He closed his eyes and nodded, his fingers brushing her skin.

“I’m here. I’m real. You don’t need to be scared.”

He let out a choked laugh and opened his eyes again, fixing his gaze on the ceiling.

“God, I sound like a ponce.”

She smiled sadly and tightened her fingers around his, moving her cheek against his hand.

“You’ve been through a lot,” she whispered.

He turned those bright eyes on her again, holding her gaze for a long moment before he spoke.

“So’ve you.”

“I’m not the one who got used as a plaything for the First’s baddies.”

“I’ll heal.”

She smiled weakly and reluctantly drew his hand away from her cheek.

“I know. I’ll make sure of it.”



He was silent for a long time after that and once again she thought he had fallen asleep, but he spoke up soon after.

“Why are you doing this?”

He turned to face her, eyes searching hers as if for his answer.

“I need my best fighter back.”

“But why… why you, Buffy? You could have anyone look after me. Could even leave me in the basement to heal… not here.”

He looked around her room, seemingly taking in every little detail.

“I wouldn’t do that,” she said quietly, drawing his attention back to her.

He studied her in silence for a long moment and then spoke again.

“Why not? Why the special attention, Buffy?”

Growing uncomfortable with his delving, she quickly got to her feet, turning her back on him.

“I just want you better, Spike,” she answered, “I should get you some more blood.”

She was already at the door but his reply stopped her in her tracks.

“Why are you so afraid of your feelings?”

“I’m not-“

“You can’t bear feeling anything remotely… soft… for me.”

“That’s not true.”

“That right?” he challenged, prompting a sigh from her.



She turned to him, leaning against the door and daring to meet his piercing gaze.

“I’m worried about you,” she started hesitantly, “I can’t… I can’t bear seeing you like this. I… I care about you, you know that.”

He said nothing but held her gaze until she grew uncomfortable and had to look away.

“I need you back, Spike.”

Before he could say anything, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

“I need you watching my back again. I need to know I’ve got you at my side.”

“Getting all sentimental on me, Slayer,” he murmured quietly, regarding her with tenderness.

She crossed her arms across her chest and looked to the floor, her emotions welling up even as she tried to suppress them.

“I missed you,” she got out, her eyes still fixed on the floor.

“Was only a few days,” Spike joked weakly, “Sure you had your hands full with the Slayerettes-“

“I don’t mean these last few days.”

She jerked her head up and met his gaze, her gaze teary as she dared to share her secret with him.

“I mean… this summer. I missed you when you were gone.”

“Buffy-“

“I tried not to. I tried to… I wanted to hate you, after…” she trailed off, her emotions catching up with her, “But I couldn’t. And all I could think was that if I’d really listened to what you were trying to tell me that night-“

“Buffy,” he called, his voice almost a growl, drawing her teary gaze to his, “Don’t.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Spike. I know that now.”

“No,” he bit out, shifting with a wince into a sitting position, “Don’ make excuses for me.”

“I’m not. I’m just…”


She took a deep breath and forced her leaden feet forward, moving over to the bed and sinking onto it, her eyes never leaving his.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out.

“What?! Buffy?”

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I’m sorry that I-”

“No,” Spike interrupted, grabbing her wrist and regarding her angrily before softening, “You haven’t got anything to be sorry for.”

“Spike-“

“No, Buffy,” he said, his firm tone surprising in his current state of weakness.

At a stalemate, she fell silent, watching him with sad eyes, her fingers curling around his. His eyes fluttered shut but his grip tightened on her hand, letting her know he was still awake.

“I wanted to kill you.”

He had spoken so quietly that she almost missed it, but as soon as she processed his words, her eyes went wide with surprise. As if sensing it, he opened his eyes and looked at her again, his eyes swimming with pain.

“When I left, I was determined to find a way to get the chip out. I was… I was fed up of being stuck between two worlds. Can’t be a man, can’t be a vampire,” he murmured, repeating the hateful words she had once flung at him.

“Spike-“

“I wanted to kill you more than ever,” he whispered harshly, his eyes locking with hers.



A long silence descended over them, until finally she broke it.

“And then?” she whispered shakily.

“And then I ended up with a soul.”

Her heart lurched with something like disappointment as she realised his soul had been a mistake, an unhappy accident in his pursuit of something else. She went to pull away from him, but he caught her arm, stopping her.

“Understand though, Buffy. I thought I wanted to kill you.”

“I got that message,” she replied, trying hard to keep herself calm.

“I didn’t though. Not really. At least not deep down, where it mattered… where that demon looked to see what I really wanted.”

She reluctantly slid her gaze back to him, searching his eyes for the truth.

“I was hurting so badly, Buffy. So I got angry… but deep down, I was still hurting. I still wanted to make it better… to make it so you…”

He trailed off and she swallowed back the lump in her throat, tears threatening to spill over as she looked at him.

“You should have just stayed,” she whispered after a long pause, her voice thick with emotion.

His eyes went wide with surprise and when he tightened his fingers around hers, she squeezed back gently. His eyes fell shut again weakly, but as he drifted into another fitful doze, his fingers stayed locked around hers.