The Devastating Truth

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“How are you feeling?” she asked her mother the next evening as she sat at her bedside, her eyes running worriedly over the bandage on her head.

“I’m just fine, Buffy. A little woozy from the anaesthetic still, but they said it was a success.”

“Good,” she answered softly, squeezing her mother’s hand in hers as she forced a weak smile, “When can you come home?”

“Maybe the day after tomorrow.”

“That’s good,” Buffy whispered with another smile, “I’ll tidy the house up real good for when you come back.”

Her mother was silent for a moment and then squeezed Buffy’s hand gently.

“Are you okay? You look tired.”

“I’m fine, Mom. Just worried about you.”



“We should spend the day together when I’m better. Just you and me.”

“Sounds good.”

They both fell silent and Buffy turned her gaze to the window, looking out into the darkness as her mind went round and round in circles.

“Is it time for you to patrol?” her mother asked, drawing her attention back to the room.

“Pretty much. I haven’t done much slaying lately,” she replied, thinking of her violent, painful breakdown the last time she had been out patrolling. Which unerringly led to thoughts of Spike and the comfort of his embrace. She shook her head and turned back to her mother.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Good night, Buffy.”

“Night, Mom.”



After leaving the hospital, she wandered the streets in a random pattern, hoping to happen upon some demon. The streets were eerily quiet though, leaving her to get lost in her thoughts. When she looked around her, she realised she was close to the Bronze and when she looked closer, she realised she was on West Street. Spike’s words flew through her mind:

You ever get the urge, go to West Street. Alley just past the butcher’s. Big house on the right. You’ll see what Captain Cardboard’s really like.

Following her feet blindly, she moved along the street, spotting the butcher’s shop and taking the next right into a dark alley. A man stumbled past her, seemingly drunk, and she frowned as she moved further into the darkness, searching for some sign of what she was supposed to find in this dark, rat-infested street. She spotted what must be the house Spike meant and approached it slowly, her Slayer sense going wild as she got close to the door.

The house was full of vampires and she pulled a stake out of her waistband, clutching it tightly as she moved closer. She paused at the door and listened for a moment, before pushing open the door and moving into a dimly-lit room. Her first reaction was to grimace at the sweet smell of blood, permeating the whole room- and then she spotted the man it appeared to be coming from. He looked far from in pain though- and far from dying too.



With a frown, she looked around again, really taking in the mixture of vampires and humans around her. Few of the vampires had registered her presence and those that did ignored her and went back to what they were doing- feeding. It looked like feeding anyway, but as she struggled to comprehend what she was seeing, deep down she knew this was a whole world away from feeding. There was a cry but even as she spun to search out the source of it, she recognised it as a cry of pleasure rather than pain.

Sickened, she stumbled backwards, hitting the door and tripping out into the street again, taking deep breaths as she tried to calm herself. All the while her head was chanting: No, no, no. Holding a hand to her mouth, she stumbled further away from the house, her mind swarmed with images of what she had seen in the few short moments she had been in there. She shook her head, trying to drive them away and trying to deny what they meant as her feet led her out of the alleyway and down the street. The next thing she knew, she was in Restfield and she could see Spike’s crypt.



She knocked on the door timidly and slowly pushed it open, moving into the dark crypt and looking around for the vampire.

“Spike?” she called out weakly, moving further into the crypt.

There was no answer but she spotted flickering candlelight in the lower part and climbed down the ladder. She turned to find the vampire asleep, spread out on the large bed, his head nestled on a pile of cushions. She took a moment to just watch him, smiling slightly despite her inner turmoil. He must have felt her watching him though because he stirred and opened his eyes, looking at her in confusion.

“Buffy? Love?”

Her eyes met his and she almost broke down at the softness in his expression but instead she looked to her feet as she took a calming breath.

“How many times?” she whispered shakily, trying to hold herself together.

“Buffy?” he asked, his tone full of confusion as she forced her eyes to his.

He sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, watching her with concern.

“What’s going on?”

She took a breath and bit her lip to stop it from trembling as she took a step closer to him.

“How many times have you seen Riley go to that place?”



The crypt was deadly silent for the space of a moment and she saw realisation dawn in the vampire’s expression, his eyes softening as he reached out a hand towards her. She stumbled forward and dropped to the bed beside him, burying her head against him as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Oh, Buffy,” he whispered, “I should never have said anything.”

A sob escaped her and he held her tighter, his hand stroking against her back.

“I’m so sorry, love.”

She shook her head, clinging to him tightly as she raised her eyes to his.

“It’s not your fault,” she got out, “I just...God, how could I be so stupid?”

He pulled her back against him as a sob burst from her and held her tightly, shushing her gently.

“I knew he was...but I never imagined...God.”

“Shhh. He’s an idiot.”

She coughed out a laugh and sagged against him, breathing in the familiar scent of Spike. She raised her head and met his soft gaze.

“This changes everything,” she whispered.

“Buffy?” he breathed.

Instead of answering, she leant forward and kissed him, losing herself in the taste of him, in the gentle touch of his lips, the soft caress of his hand. He pulled back though, studying her intently.

“Buffy, what are you-“

She cut him off with a finger to the lips, her eyes wide and brimming with tears as she looked at him.

“I love you. Do you hear me? I love you,” she got out, the last words choked on a sob as she struggled to rein in her emotions.

“Oh, Buffy,” he breathed, leaning forward and kissing her again, his hand against her cheek, holding her close. He parted from her, his eyes shining as they scanned hers, his fingers brushing over her skin.

“I love you,” he murmured in awe, leaning back in and kissing her again.



She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she got lost in the feel of him, the taste of him. She had been aching for this closeness again ever since she had walked out of his crypt after their one night together and now that she had given in, she was overwhelmed. He kept pulling back and looking at her as if she would disappear and she smiled softly, tearfully, her hand pressed to his cheek.

“I love you,” she repeated, drawing him close again.

He guided her gently back on the bed and she tightened her arms around him, kissing him hungrily as his hand trailed down her side.

“God, Buffy,” he breathed, pulling away and burying his head in her neck, “I love you. My sweet, precious girl.”

He pressed a kiss to her neck over his mark and she arched against him, gasping with the sensation that flooded through her.

“Spike, please,” she breathed, clutching him tightly.

He pulled back again, his hand rising to caress her cheek as he looked down at her with eyes wide with awe.

“Buffy...” he breathed, his thumb brushing over her lip, “I tried to stop feeling this way, you know. But every time I looked at you...”

“I know,” she whispered, “I felt it too.”

He leaned down and kissed her harder then, his body pressed against hers as she clung to him like a drowning woman.



She woke with a start but relaxed again as she felt the reassuring weight of Spike’s arm over her waist. She turned over and looked at him, her eyes tracing the lines of his face, softened in sleep. Her heart felt like it would burst just looking at him and her fingers moved to her neck, tracing the already-healing bite on her neck. Her hand moved then to him, her fingers grazing the small mark on his neck. Her mark. She felt him stir then and blue eyes fixed on her, swimming with love and desire.

“Buffy.”

She smiled softly and leant over to kiss him gently, her fingers still resting on his neck. She parted from him and buried her head against his chest, smiling again as his arms wrapped around her as he rested his mouth against her hair.

“You’re still here.”

“I always want to be here,” she whispered, her fingers tracing a pattern on his chest.

“It won’t be easy,” he murmured and she tensed for a moment before relaxing with the soft caress of his hand at her back.

“I know. But I can’t...I can’t pretend anymore.”

His arms tightened around her and he pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Me neither, love. It’s killing me.”

She nodded against him and raised her head, drowning in his expressive eyes.

“I’m scared,” she whispered, “Is that crazy?”

“Not after everything you’ve been through,” he answered, brushing a hand over her hair, “But I want you to know...I’m here. Always.”

“I know,” she murmured with a smile, leaning up to kiss him again as her fingers came to rest over her mark once more.