A/N: I'm not even close to finished answering reviews from the last chapter, but I'm going away for another ten days with no internet access, so here's the next chapter before I leave for Ireland. The last two are coming when I return! Also, "Closure" is up for a Reader's Choice Award at Rogue Poet if you'd like to give me something nice to come back to. :)

*****

Chapter 22

“You understand why this can’t go to trial,” Professor Walsh said, her voice firm yet sympathetic. “Don’t you?”

Buffy swallowed hard, her throat constricting painfully. She shifted in the hard wooden chair, unable to meet the gaze of the woman seated on the other side of the desk. “I, uh…”

“The Initiative is a top secret military operation. We simply cannot allow any mention of it to be brought up in a trial,” she explained. “None of our security footage is admissible as evidence, nor can Agent Miller testify to the experimental drug that was used to… incapacitate you.”

“So, I guess mentioning that the guy who raped me also tried to sic a whole pack of demons on me is out, too, huh?”

“Absolutely,” Walsh agreed, ignoring Buffy’s flat tone of voice. “And without that, it’s merely your word against his. No attorney would bring a case to trial with so little evidence. I’m sorry, but a court-martial just isn’t possible, not without revealing highly classified information.”

“So – so what happens, then?” My rapist just gets off scot-free? she finished bitterly, although she would never be so bold as to say it aloud in front of Professor Walsh.

“Agent Gates will be demoted, of course, and transferred out of the Initiative. He’ll be reassigned to regular combat duty and stationed overseas.”

Buffy held back a scoff, nodding politely instead. “And I just… go on with my life?” she asked, tears welling up, unbidden. “Pretend this never happened?”

“The Initiative would be more than willing to provide any sort of medical care you require,” Walsh said. “Physical or psychological.”

“No, thank you,” she replied tersely. “I’ve seen the Initiative’s definition of ‘medical care’ and I’m not interested.”

Walsh raised an eyebrow. “You mean Hostile 17? Agent Finn informed me of your… relationship.” She said the last word as though it left a bad taste in her mouth.

It didn’t have much better associations for Buffy. “That’s none of your business,” she snapped. “Just remember that I know all of your classified secrets now, and if you ever come near me and mine again, I’m not afraid to tell the world what it is you’re doing down there.”

“Do you honestly think anyone would believe you?”

“Do you really want to find out?”

“I think we’re done here,” Professor Walsh said, folding her arms across her chest.

“I think we are.” Doing her best to conceal her shaky legs, Buffy rose and walked out of the room with as much dignity as she could muster.

Out in the hall, she passed Riley, still moving slowly due to his injuries. “Hey, Buffy,” he said, trying to sound cheerful, though he couldn’t hide the sadness that now clung to him like a second skin.

“Don’t,” she replied, brushing him off as she continued on her way. “Just don’t.”

“Buffy, I’m sorry,” his voice echoed after her.

She paused, and without turning around, she said, “Yeah. Me, too.”

*****

Dr. Marshall had mentioned the group counseling sessions more than once during Buffy’s one-on-ones, but she’d always shied away from the idea, thinking that talking about her rape in front of a group of strangers was the last thing she wanted to do. But after her encounter with Cindy, and everything that had happened over the last few days, Buffy felt more willing to give it a chance.

She glanced one last time at the slip of paper in her hand before heading into one of the campus center’s meeting rooms. She found all the chairs arranged in a circle, but hardly anyone was sitting in them. There were several girls milling around, chatting in small groups, some laughing genially, others talking in hushed, serious tones.

She almost backed out without announcing her arrival, but Cindy turned and spotted her, her face lighting up when she recognized Buffy. “Hey!” she said, coming over to escort Buffy into the room. “I’m so glad you came. Let me introduce you to some folks.”

“Oh, no, that’s –” she started, but Cindy was already rattling off names, and Buffy pasted on a fake smile, shaking their hands though she wouldn’t remember a single person’s name later on.

Slightly overwhelmed, Buffy drifted toward the circle of chairs, taking a seat next to a quiet, unassuming girl whose head was bowed so that her dark blonde hair fell forward, hiding her face. The girl looked about as interested in talking as Buffy was, so she figured it was a pretty safe bet for not making conversation.

She was startled when the girl looked up at her curiously. “You’re B-Buffy, right?” she stammered, having been listening in while Cindy made introductions. “Are you W-Willow’s friend Buffy?”

“Yeah,” she said, a surprised smile forming. “Not too many Buffys on campus, I guess. You know Willow?”

The girl averted her gaze, as though she were embarrassed by something. “W-we do m-m-magic sometimes.” Glancing back at Buffy, she added, “I’m Tara.”

There wasn’t much time for chitchat before the group counseling officially began, and the women took their seats in the circle. Buffy felt a sense of relief when Dr. Marshall joined them, immediately more comfortable that someone she trusted was running the session. Upon spotting her in the group, her counselor gave her a reassuring smile, equally pleased to see her.

Buffy didn’t share much of her own situation, but just sitting and listening to the other students speak made her realize why Rebecca had been encouraging her to attend. The others’ stories managed to drive home the fact that she wasn’t alone, in a way that just hearing the words from her counselor hadn’t.

When the meeting broke up, Buffy turned back to Tara. Just as she’d suspected, the shy girl hadn’t spoken up during the meeting, either. “So, did Willow tell you, y’know… about me?” she asked.

“J-just that you’re f-f-friends,” Tara hurriedly assured her. “Nothing about…” She trailed off, glancing around the room pointedly.

Buffy nodded. “She didn’t mention you, either.”

“She doesn’t know.” Tara trained her eyes on her lap, shifting with discomfort. “W-when I was younger, m-my brother would, um…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

She glanced up with a grateful smile. “D-do you want to walk back together?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

*****

Once Buffy informed Willow of their now-mutual friend, Willow immediately suggested that Tara be invited to “hang with the gang,” which was how they, along with Xander and Anya, ended up at the Bronze that Friday night.

“So, Tara,” Xander said. “You’re a witch, huh?”

She nodded shyly.

“She’s really powerful,” Willow chimed in. “It’s kind of amazing.”

“I’m really not,” Tara protested with an embarrassed smile. “I’ve just been p-practicing longer is all.”

“And you two do spells together?” Xander asked.

“Is it sexy?” Anya blurted out, before they could respond. When Buffy and Xander looked at her strangely, she added, “What? Sometimes it can be sexy.”

With raised eyebrows, all three turned back to the witches, who were both now blushing. “Of course it’s not,” Willow managed, while Tara stammered helplessly.

Buffy leaned over and stage-whispered, “Xander, you’re drooling,” prompting Anya to smack him.

“Hey, how’s the pizza delivery business, Xander?” Willow asked, in a deliberate attempt to change the subject. It turned out to be unnecessary, though, as everyone on the other side of the table had suddenly focused their attention on something behind her. She turned around to look, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “What? What is it?”

“Peroxide menace, straight ahead,” Xander replied, his expression darkening as his eyes followed the vampire, who was making his way through the crowd on the other side of the dance floor.

“I don’t understand,” Tara said, looking at the others, confused. “W-what’s –?”

“Spike,” Willow explained, able to point him out now that she knew what she was looking for. “He’s Buffy’s…” She paused, searching for the right word.

“Ex,” Buffy supplied, her face shuttered to hide her emotions. Tara got the distinct impression there was more to it than that, especially given the other girl’s presence in the support group, but she didn’t push the issue.

“So, what’s the protocol here, Buff?” Xander asked. “You want us to help you kick his ass, or what?”

“No, I – I’ll talk to him.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Willow pressed. “We can just go somewhere else if you want. That new place that opened near campus –”

“I’m fine, Will.” Cutting off any further discussion, Buffy pushed away from the table and got to her feet. Steeling herself for confrontation, she walked purposefully over to where he was lurking in the shadows on the edge of the crowd. Unlike the last time she’d seen him, he made no attempt to talk to her or get her attention until she was standing in front of him.

“Spike.”

“Hi,” he said, ducking his head, but not before she caught sight of the bruises on his face.

“What happened to you?” she asked, concerned despite herself, though she managed to restrain the urge to reach out and tip his chin up to get a better look.

“Nothing. Just a demon.”

“Must have really pissed him off.” She’d seen him take down demons twice his size, so anything that could do that to Spike must have been either really huge or really angry.

“He’s not the only one.” He took a deep breath, but before he could launch into another round of apologies, Buffy help up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t. Not here.”

“Can we go somewhere, then? Please, Buffy, I just need you to hear me out.”

She glanced back at her friends, all of them pretending like they were engaged in conversation while secretly watching her out of the corners of their eyes. “Fine. Come on.”

They cut through the crowd to the back hallway, past the bathrooms to the door that led out into the alley. Once they were outside, Buffy folded her arms protectively across her chest and waited for him to speak.

“I know what I did was wrong,” he began, pacing back and forth in front of her. “Okay? All of it. Shouldn’t have let anything happen between us while you were drugged, shouldn’t have left you there for some prick to find, shouldn’t have lied about it afterwards, shouldn’t have let you find out the way you did. I know that, Buffy. I know I did everything wrong, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, and I’ll do anything –”

“It was because of you,” Buffy said quietly, so low he almost didn’t hear it over his own desperate pleas.

“What?”

“Forrest came up there to kill you, because he saw us together. But you were already gone, so instead he…” She broke off, choking back emotion.

Spike visibly deflated at her words, a horrified expression creeping over his face. “Oh, God, Buffy, I never –” He raked a hand through his hair, pacing even more furiously than before. He’d escaped out the window to save his own hide, but it had never occurred to him that someone might go after Buffy instead. “If I’d known, I swear I’d’ve let him stake me before I let anything happen to you.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“But you got him, yeah?” he asked, as it finally sunk in that she’d given him a name. “You know who it was, and you got him, right?”

She nodded. She got him, for all the good it had done.

“That’s – that’s good, right? It’s over now,” he said, trying to sound optimistic. “You can get on with your life and all.”

She just turned away from him. She’d thought she was getting on with her life, thought she was starting to heal – with him – only to have it all destroyed by his lie.

“Buffy, please, don’t – don’t walk away.” He rushed to stand in front of her, cupping her cheek and guiding her gaze up to meet his. “I love you.”

Her eyes began to water, and she was taken aback at how much his admission affected her. Her chest tightened painfully, a longing ache so deep it felt as though her insides had been hollowed out.

“Can you forgive me?” he asked softly.

She closed her eyes, her lower lip trembling as she drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

“No.”