Disclaimer: The characters and all that belong to Joss Whedon, not me. Thanks again to Sanity Fair for the lightning fast beta work.
 
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Chapter 16 – Dreamtime
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The next two weeks went by with the others hardly seeing Buffy. Riley saw her at breakfast, sometimes at dinner. She moved into the spare bedroom with little discussion and proceeded to bury herself in books. While he was at work she made endless trips to the library to borrow more books and to use the computers. She knew it was hopeless and pointless, but it was a way to escape this reality for hours at a time.
 
She read everything there was to read about bank clerks in England in the 1800’s. She read all about Mayfair, what sort of people lived there, anything she could find. When she filled one notebook with notes on her research, she bought another. In a separate notebook, carefully hidden, she kept a journal of sorts where she wrote down everything she knew about Spike and William. Every memory she had, every memory they had shared during their brief time as claimed mates; all of it went down in page after page of scrawled notes.
 
Then came the day when she found him. After three solid days at the library looking through genealogical websites she finally found William Henry Pratt, born 1852 to George and Anne Pratt of Marsten Terrace, Mayfair. He had been christened in the Anglican Church and had graduated from Cambridge University. His mother had died in 1885, his father in 1870. It was curious to her how some things, such as his father’s date of death, were the same in both timelines. His sister had been named Emmeline, but other than her birth date, 1853, nothing more was known about her. What she failed to find was any record of him after 1885. She hunted for ages trying to find out what had happened after his mother had died. She searched for extended family, only to find that his father had been an only son and his mother’s siblings had predeceased her. He apparently had no one other than his mother in the world. Where did you go, Spike? Did you sell the house? Leave London and travel the world? Find a girl and get married? What happened? She finally closed the browser with a sigh and gathered her things to walk home.
 
The warm California sun did little to improve her mood as she walked. She barely remembered what Spike had looked like in the sunlight, during that fight over the Gem of Amara. She had been far too busy defending herself and trying to wrestle the ring off his hand to notice what the sun had looked like shining in his white-blonde hair and his cobalt eyes. Try as she might the details of that day escaped her and it saddened her. What had he looked like as a boy? As a young college student? These questions were unanswerable. Maybe Cambridge had yearbooks. I should try that angle next time.
 
She was still pondering the best way to get a hold of Cambridge yearbooks from the 1800’s when she walked in the house, so it took her a moment to notice the voices coming from the living room. Riley stepped into the hall, and she said, “Riley? What are you doing home so early?” Then she looked beyond him and saw Giles, Willow, Tara, Jenny, Xander, and Anya arranged around the living room. With a sigh and an eye roll she said, “Oh. Intervention time is it? And here I thought you had all gotten the message about leaving me in peace.” She started toward the stairs.
 
Riley got in front of her. “Buffy, please, just hear us out, okay? We’re just…”
 
“Worried about me. You guys are a broken record. But I don’t particularly feel like I need to be worried about right now.”
 
“We would be most obliged if you would just give us fifteen minutes of your time,” Giles said, with a tone that brooked no argument.
 
Buffy gave in with another sigh. Let them have their say and then they’ll go away, she told herself. Sitting down on the only empty chair she said, “All right. What do you want?”
 
The others glanced around at each other briefly before Giles took charge. “You have been avoiding all of us for nearly two weeks now. We would like to know what your status is.”
 
“Pretty much the same. I don’t really remember much since freshman year in college. There are bits and pieces here and there, but that’s it.”
 
“But why are you avoiding us?” Willow asked plaintively. “I mean don’t you want to fix this?”
 
Buffy shrugged. “You’ve checked me for magic residues and tried to realign my aura or whatever. Doesn’t seem to have worked. Maybe it will just get better over time.”
 
“But what if it doesn’t?” Riley asked. “Are you really going to want to live with holes in your memory forever?”
 
“We miss you,” Tara put in. “It’s like you don’t want any of us around anymore.”
 
“If you couldn’t exactly remember what your relationship was with people, you’d probably want to be alone too, don’t you think?” The others had no answer. “Look, I don’t hate you, and I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. But I’m fine on my own right now. If I’m not suffering, why are you so upset?”
 
“But you are suffering,” Riley insisted. “You think I don’t notice, but I do. You always look like you’ve been crying when you get up in the morning, or when you come back from patrol. You won’t let me patrol with you. You won’t talk to me about what you’re going through…”
 
Buffy interrupted him. “It sounds like you’re more concerned about your feelings than mine,” she said, a bit coldly. “If I wanted or needed to tell you my feelings, I would.”
 
“Perhaps you don’t think you need to, but keeping everything inside is unwise,” Giles intoned. “Solving this problem is going to take a group effort.”
 
“Right now, the Slayer job is being taken care of, and I’m not asking anything from you. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
 
“Buffy, you’re not just the Slayer. You’re our friend,” Xander said.
 
Buffy shook her head, looking down at the floor. Nothing she said was going to sink into the heads of these well meaning but nosy friends of hers. “What do you want from me?” she said finally. The sooner the intervention of the day is over, the sooner I can get back to my research. She realized that the research was well on its way to being an obsession, but it was an obsession that was keeping her sane and she had no plans to give it up any time soon.
 
Giles and Jenny exchanged glances. “Jenny would like to try a spell from her family’s ancient traditions. It is meant to allow a person to journey deeply into his or her own mind. We think the clues to your… condition are there. If you can somehow remember how this happened, then we can find a remedy.”
 
And it probably won’t do anything more than the other spells did, because the problem isn’t what you think it is. “What are the consequences if this goes wrong?”
 
“Consequences?” Jenny asked, puzzled.
 
“There’s always consequences,” she said, feeling a pang as she remembered Spike shouting those words at her friends after she returned from the dead. Then as now she wasn’t being honest with them, but she truly didn’t think explaining the real situation would help.
 
Still a little taken aback at the blunt response, Jenny answered slowly, “Well, I suppose you could pass out, if the feelings got too intense or have a difficult time awakening. Other than that, I’m not aware of any consequences.”
 
Buffy pondered that for a few moments. Then she fixed Giles and Jenny with a determined gaze. “I’ll let you try whatever you have in mind. But if this doesn’t work, I want your word that you’re going to back off. No more interventions and no more spells unless I ask.”
 
Riley jumped back into the conversation. “I don’t get it! It’s like you don’t want to remember! What the hell?”
 
“I just don’t want to be poked and prodded and treated like I’m helpless, all right?” she shouted. “I’m sorry you feel cheated out of a wife, and I’m sorry I’m not doing everything everyone wants all the time. But last time I checked none of you actually own me!”
 
“Riley, calm down and be quiet,” Giles rapped out. He took a deep breath and polished his glasses as he addressed Buffy. “I won’t promise to stop researching the source of this problem. But I will give you my word that we will give you some space if you let us try this. Will that satisfy you?”
 
“Fine.” Buffy was far from satisfied. She knew that there was no way on God’s green earth that Giles was going to let this go, but she grew very tired of fighting these people. “What do you want me to do now?”
 
“We’ll need to prepare a few things,” Jenny explained. “Will you come to the Magic Box in about an hour?”
 
“Whatever,” Buffy muttered, stalking off to the back porch without another word.
 
The others looked around awkwardly before gathering themselves to leave. Riley closed the door behind them, turning to lean heavily against it. He ran both hands through his hair in a gesture of utter frustration before standing up, taking a deep breath, and heading after Buffy. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.
 
“Suit yourself,” Buffy replied. She was sitting with her arms folded on her knees, staring out into the yard. She barely registered the creak of the steps as Riley sat down. Her mind was far away, remembering a night when she had been sitting here, scared for her mom, and her mortal enemy had comforted her. He had every right to want to kill her after she had pumped him for information then treated him like dirt, throwing money at him with contempt. Instead he had patted her back and sat with her in silent support. Why didn’t I see what he was then? Why didn’t I give him a chance? Maybe things would have gone so much differently if we had been together instead of me spending all my time trying to avoid him.
 
Riley watched her intently. The sadness radiated off her in waves, but she would accept no comfort from him or anyone. It made no sense to him. Even if she didn’t remember their marriage, surely she should recognize him as an ally of sorts. “Buffy?” he said, as the silence threatened to stretch out until the next day.
 
“Huh? What?” Buffy sat up, startled. She had truly nearly forgotten he was there.
 
“Why won’t you let me in?” he asked plaintively. “I mean I know you don’t remember the details of our relationship. But I’d think you’d recognize that I’m your friend at the very least.”
 
Buffy stared out into the yard, trying to formulate an answer. “I know you mean well, Riley. I do,” she began. “I just feel a lot stronger than you seem to think I am. I’m more afraid that you guys are going to call out the men in the white coats than I am of not regaining my memory.”
 
Riley’s mouth dropped open. “Do you really think we’d… lock you up somehow? Because we thought you were crazy?”
 
“Well don’t you?” Buffy retorted, turning to look at him. “You’re constantly on the phone whispering with the others. Slayer hearing, remember? Every time I look the slightest bit down you’re pushing my meds at me, you’re all determined to try any spell that might have a fragment of a hope of helping, even though I’ve asked you slow down again and again – is it any wonder I’m not jumping up and down to share my innermost thoughts with you?”
 
“So what am I supposed to do then?” Riley roared, getting up to pace the yard. “Just relegate myself to roommate and occasional cook and watch my wife retreat into her own world?”
 
“Yes, for now!” Buffy replied. “If we’ve been together for all this time, why are you freaking out over two weeks of me not being myself?” Riley opened and closed his mouth a few times, but didn’t have a good answer. With a voice tinged with pity Buffy continued, “Look, I know how hard this is for you. I know this must be awkward and… annoying and all that stuff. Just don’t take it personally, okay?”
 
Riley seemed slightly mollified by her answer and sat back down. “I’m sorry. You’re having troubles and I’m… I’m imposing mine on yours. I’m sorry.”
 
She reached out and put a hand on his arm. “Please, just relax. I don’t hate you or anything. I just… I need to work through this in my own time and in my own way. Can you please, please accept that?”
 
“I guess so,” Riley replied grudgingly. “I just feel helpless, you know?”
 
“So do I,” Buffy answered truthfully. She was at the mercy of whatever forces were shoving her around, and she felt it keenly. But all she needed was to bide her time until a solution presented itself to her. Consoling Riley seemed to be a necessary act at the time. She patted his arm once more sympathetically before getting up herself. “Come on. We should get ready to go to the Magic Box and see what they’ve whipped up there.” She went inside to get her jacket with Riley trailing behind her.
 
The drive was silent as most of their drives had been since this whole mess had started. Buffy stared out the window, her mind automatically picking out places she had shared with her sister, her mother, Spike, Angel – all those people who were gone, or had never existed in this time. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying again. Why did you have to sacrifice Dawn for all this? What did she ever do to anyone? She wondered for the thousandth time whether this was someone’s sick idea of a reward. Here you are Slayer. You’ve got the normal guy, a degree, a job, no responsibility for a teenage sister, no complicating vampire relationships, and all your friends are alive around you. She had to admit that without all the other baggage it wouldn’t be a terrible life. But it seemed so hollow, like a stage setting, compared to the messy highs and lows of her first life.
 
They pulled up in front of the Magic Box and went inside, despite the “Closed for Inventory” sign on the front door – the usual sign that they didn’t want to be interrupted. The rest of the gang was there, sitting around the table or leaning against the counter. Jenny stood up and greeted them when they came in. “Hello, Buffy. Are you ready?”
 
Buffy shrugged. “Sure, I guess. Just tell me what I need to do.”
 
“We’ve got it all set up in the training room. Come with me.” Buffy followed Jenny, with Willow and Tara trailing behind. A ring of candles had been set up, with an earthenware pot in the center. “Sit in the center, all right?” Buffy complied, looking around her doubtfully. Jenny bent and started some spicy sweet incense burning in the pot, while the witches lit the candles one after another. Tara handed Jenny a small bag full of what seemed to be some sort of spices, and Jenny proceeded to make a ring of the strong scented powder around the ring of candles, chanting in an unknown tongue the entire time. When she finished she called the others in and they stood in a circle outside the rest of the set-up, holding hands. “Close your eyes,” Jenny instructed and Buffy did, breathing deeply. “Good spirits, guide our sister. May our wills strengthen hers to look into her mind and find what she seeks.” She then started humming a single low tone, and the others joined in, matching her tone and making a continuous low tone.
 
Wonder how long they’ll keep this up, Buffy thought. Then suddenly she found herself feeling heavy. As more of the incense and the humming sunk deeper and deeper into her senses she found that she was no longer aware of the room, the floor beneath her, the heat of the candles. She felt like she was floating down a dark corridor, and there seemed to be a door at the end of it. Her dream-self hesitated for a moment then opened the door.
 
She stepped through into a stone floored space, flooded with colored light. She looked around and realized she was in the same church she had dreamed about when she dreamed about…
 
“Hello, love.”
 
She spun around and there he was. “Spike?” She walked toward him sure he would vanish like the figment of her imagination she knew him to be. But he grew nearer and nearer without disappearing, and suddenly she was in his arms. His lips crashed down on hers and the smell of incense turned to the smell of cigarettes and leather as he pulled her close. She clutched at him desperately, one hand tangled in his hair, the other fanned out over his leather-clad back, feeling his muscles move under his old duster. She had no idea why this felt so real but she didn’t care. If this was a hallucination she was going to stay here and hallucinate until she died of starvation or something.
 
After a long, long time they broke the kiss and looked at each other, gasping. “You’ve been crying, love,” Spike commented as he stroked her cheek.
 
“How do you know?” she asked, running her hands over his face, memorizing every feature again. It was like being at the last oasis in a desert, not knowing when or if she would ever find water again.
 
“I live in here,” he answered, leaning into her touch. “Well, that’s not quite correct. There’s this… imprint of my soul, my essence, which became part of you when we claimed each other.”
 
“How is it you feel so real?” She closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest, sighing in utter contentment as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
 
“Guess we’re both in your mind.” He rested his head on hers, nuzzling her golden hair. “We’re as real as anything can be here.”
 
That explanation made as much sense as could be had, at least in Buffy’s opinion. “I miss you so much.”
 
“I know.”
 
“I almost…” She burned with shame as she thought of how she had nearly thrown all this away rather than face the days without him.
 
His arms tightened around her. “Now, now. Don’t worry about all that. I believe I remember a few times where I begged you to dust me so I could be done with all the First’s bullshit. We all have dark times, pet.”
 
Buffy pulled away to look at him. “Where are you? I mean, what happened after we dusted Darla?”
 
Spike sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I went back to merry ol’ Victorian England. Got to be William H. Pratt all over again.”
 
“At least you were alive somewhere, sometime,” Buffy said, kissing him gently. “I don’t think I could bear it if you were gone for good.”
 
Spike kissed her again, slow and sweet. When they pulled back again he continued, “It’s different for William this time.”
 
“How so?”
 
Spike searched for words. “You’re there, inside him, like I’m inside you. And you remember Spike. Gives him a little more confidence than he had. Still a hopeless dreamer, our William, but he dreams about you. Not that his conscious mind knows who you are, or all that happened. But you’re in there, and it helps.” He looked at her searchingly. “How is it for you here, my love?”
 
“Awful.” She rested her head on him once more. “Dawn’s dead.”
 
“I’m so sorry, love. God, I’m so sorry.”
 
“No one could save her this time.” She buried her face in his shirt, taking comfort in the contours of his chest. “At least I didn’t die this time though.”
 
“That’s something, I guess.”
 
“Not really,” she continued sadly. “I guess I had a nervous breakdown. Everyone treats me like I’m nuts. Plus I seem to be married to Riley.”
 
“That wanker?” Spike scoffed. “If I existed in this world I’d kick his ass to the curb for you.”
 
“See that’s the problem. I’m the only one who knows it used to be different. Anya’s alive, Tara’s alive, and Jenny’s alive and married to Giles. How do you tell them, ‘Hey, I know you’re happy and all, but I wish you were all dead so that I could have my sister and my man back’?” Her voice broke a bit, and Spike kissed her hair and comforted her.
 
“I know, love. I know.” They held each other in the darkness of Buffy’s mind with nothing more to say.
 
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In the training room of the Magic Box, the Scoobies were getting worried.
 
Once Buffy had slumped into her trance they had been able to release each other’s hands and Giles had gently eased her onto the ground. “What happens now?” Xander had asked.
 
“Hopefully, she will find the root cause of her trouble,” Jenny answered. “When she finds what she’s looking for, she’ll wake up.” They were now three hours into it however, and Buffy showed no sign of waking. She looked peaceful, and a smile played faintly around her lips, as if she was experiencing something pleasant.
 
Riley on the other hand was pacing with increasing vigor. “What is taking her so long? What could be the matter? Is it supposed to take this long?”
 
“This ritual hasn’t been performed in hundreds of years, Riley,” Giles explained patiently. “We just have to give her time.”
 
“But what if she doesn’t wake up?” Riley cried. “What if you made a mistake?”
 
Tara spoke up. “If it makes you feel any better, her aura is very calm and content right now. She seems happier than she has been since she woke up with no memories. I think we should give it some more time.”
 
“Well, I need to go home,” Anya said, hauling her pregnant self off the couch. “Xander, I need you to take me home and do some of that ‘special’ prenatal massage.”
 
“Anya!” Xander turned purple at her suggestive tone, said goodbye to the others, and hustled Anya out the door.
 
“Is anyone else hungry?” Willow asked. “I could order a pizza while we wait.”
 
Riley didn’t answer, but Giles and Jenny agreed, and it was done. Riley just kept staring at Buffy, wondering what was going on in her mind.
 
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At that moment, Buffy was still holding what felt very much like Spike in this strange country of her mind. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this life,” she said, nestling into his shoulder. “It seems so wrong. Is this really what I wanted? Because normal? Ends up being really, really…”
 
“Dull? Stultifying? Unsatisfying?” Spike supplied as she struggled for words.
 
“All of the above,” she answered. “You always tried to tell me that, and I never listened.”
 
“Hindsight’s always 20/20, pet.”
 
“Yeah.” After a few more moments, a thought occurred to her. “What happened to William? In the end?”
 
Spike hesitated. “It’s a difficult question to answer. In one reality he became me. We messed with things, and he died in obscurity alone in rural England. But who knows if that’s the final story or not?”
 
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“That’s it! We’ve got to wake her up. This is going nowhere!” Pizza had arrived and been consumed, and still Buffy was unconscious, and Riley was pulling his hair out in frustration.
 
“Perhaps we should consider bringing her out of the trance,” Giles said to Jenny. “She may be having difficulty in extracting herself from particularly painful memories.”
 
“You may be right,” sighed Jenny. “But we can’t just shake her awake. We need to bring her out gradually.” Jenny and Willow started gathering supplies for the wakening spell while the others watched anxiously.
 
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“They’re going to be coming for you in a minute, pet,” Spike said, breaking another long, searching kiss. “Time’s almost up.”
 
“No!” Buffy cried, clutching him close. “No! I won’t go. I can’t leave here to go back to that.”
 
Spike pulled back and cupped her face, wiping away her tears gently with his thumbs. “Now you listen to me. Time’s a lot like a river, yeah? It flows on, it branches, rejoins itself, but the riverbed is always there. If you just wade back upstream, you can find what you’re looking for, no matter how far you’ve traveled. Remember that.” He kissed her again, but Buffy could feel him start to feel less and less substantial.
 
“No, please, stay,” she pleaded. “Please, I love you!”
 
“Love you too, Buffy Summers,” he replied. He released her and backed slowly away. “I’ll always be waiting for you.”
 
There was a sensation of being pulled backward, like flashing lights passing her in a dark tunnel. “Spike!” she screamed. Then she was sitting up, wide-eyed on the mat in the training room at the Magic Box, surrounded by anxious eyes.
 
“Buffy, are you all right?” Riley asked, kneeling at her side. He put his hand on her shoulder to steady her and reached out to stroke her face.
 
“Get away!” she shrieked, leaping to her feet. She looked wildly around at all of them and at the charm that Jenny had used to bring her out of the trance. “Why? Why did you bring me back?”
 
The others looked puzzled and hurt. “We were worried that you were somehow trapped in your own mind,” Jenny explained. “You were out for hours and hours.”
 
“I was happy where I was! Why can’t you people just leave me alone?” Tears of desperation and rage welled in her eyes as she clenched her fists. She had been holding Spike. His voice and his presence had seemed so real, so perfect and soothing and it was almost physically painful to be pulled back to deal with Riley and the others.
 
“Buffy, who or what is Spike?” Giles asked.
 
“What do you mean?” Buffy answered cautiously, her heart racing a bit. What did I say while I was out?
 
“You called out ‘Spike’ when you were waking up.”
 
“I don’t… I don’t know,” she stammered.
 
“What did you see? Did you remember anything?” Willow asked.
 
Thinking quickly, Buffy said, “My mom was alive, and Dawn was alive, and we were happy. That’s what I remember. Now I’m back here and they’re gone again.” And so is Spike. But as this thought arose, his words echoed in her head. I’ll always be waiting for you.
 
“But you don’t remember anything else?” Jenny asked. “You didn’t see anything about how this happened?”
 
Buffy wasn’t listening. Her mind was fixating on what Spike had said. He’s in his own time. He’ll always be in his own time. I can find him there. I just have to go back upstream. The others stared at her as she knit her brows, wondering how she could accomplish that. “Buffy? Are you all right?” Tara asked.
 
“What? Huh?” Buffy shook herself. “Never mind. It didn’t work. But I’m okay with it. I’ll figure it out as I go.” She headed toward the door.
 
“Stop!” Riley cried, grabbing her arm. “You’re doing it again! You keep just walking out, not talking to us, not telling us what’s going on! You’re not telling us everything. Why?”
 
Buffy closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. “I have some ideas. I don’t want to share them, on the grounds that you’re all going to think I’m nuts.”
 
“But we’re not…” Riley protested.
 
“Trust me. From what I’ve seen so far, you’re going to think I’ve gone off the deep end again.”
 
“Do you trust us so little?” Giles asked quietly, but with evident hurt in his voice.
 
“Have you given me a lot of reason to trust you?” Buffy asked in return. When they didn’t answer she continued, “I’m not trying to hurt any of you. I want to pursue my ideas, just like you have, and I don’t want anyone interfering until I see if they’re going to pan out. If they don’t, no harm done.”
 
“But you can’t just walk around with no memories of the last few years!” Riley exclaimed, exasperated.
 
“I can, and I will. I’m sorry if this bothers you, but it’s what needs to happen. If you can’t deal, I’ll move out or something.”
 
“Move out?” Riley was incredulous. “You want to move out?”
 
“I know you didn’t ask for this. It’s not fair to kick you out of what you think is your house. If this is going to be a problem, I’ll find an apartment.” Buffy meant every word. The house had been her home, but with no Dawn, no Joyce, and no Spike, it felt empty and foreign.
 
Giles stepped in to defuse the situation. “I don’t think either of you should do anything rash right now. We will leave things as they stand for the moment, but I would like to hear more about your ideas soon.”
 
“I’ll give you a report when I know something definite,” Buffy lied. She headed once more for the door with Riley following her, fuming. His presence barely registered. She knew what she had to do, and the problem was now how to do it.
 
TBC