This beatiful banner was made by Sylvia (nmcil). :)


Author's note: Beta'd by three amazing ladies Dawn, Mabel and Lis... thank you!!!

Huge thanks to all those who are reading and reviewing, I appreciate every single one of your reviews!!! :)


Chapter 21


“Buffy?” called the voice again.


Numbness born out of shock spread through her body as the familiarity squeezed around her like an iron band. With her back to the person she never expected to see again, the emotions within culminated at a dizzying speed. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. There wasn’t anything she could do but stand there frozen and aching with expectation.


A warm hand touched her shoulder, and her knees nearly buckled under the implications. Too terrified to turn around and face what was probably just a figment of her imagination, Buffy whispered, “Mom?”


Suddenly, there were arms around her as she was turned around, her face buried in hair that smelled of lavender and home.


“God, Buffy… where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you for months.”


Joyce squeezed her shoulders and stared at her as if she couldn’t believe this was real. Buffy wasn’t sure it was either.


“I thought you were-” Joyce started to say, then cut herself off, physically unable to say the word. To even admit the possibility of thinking her only child might have been dead.


Buffy couldn’t say anything, couldn’t comprehend the turn her life had taken, throwing things out of perspective just as she was finally starting to find her way to live again. Looking at her mother, she noticed for the first time how old she looked; the deepened lines around her mouth and eyes making Buffy ache inside. The irretrievable passage of time and absence must have been just as hard for her mother as it had been for her.


Joyce was talking to her, but Buffy couldn’t focus on the meaning of words when she didn’t even know what she should feel. It seemed impossible to settle on just one emotion. But it didn’t matter because a reply wasn’t needed, as Buffy found herself in a familiar embrace once again, her own arms hanging limply on her sides.


******


Spike cursed as he gracelessly stumbled his way through the house, moving and dressing at the same time. He could feel Buffy’s distress running through his veins, her rampant emotions swirling inside him as well, as he snatched a blanket from the couch, throwing it over his head.


The sun was high in the sky when he opened the front door, hiding in the shadows, assessing the best way to get to the sewers without bursting into flames before he got there.


Even as Spike planned on screaming his head off at Buffy’s stupidity and recklessness, leaving the house when he couldn’t get to her, he had to admit he was terrified of not being able to help her.


The door slammed close and his hands burned and started to blister, the smoke rising off his skin before he dropped into the nearest manhole.


'What was she thinking, scampering off in the middle of the bloody afternoon without telling me a rot? Stupid bint’s gonna kill me… I hope she’s okay!'


Spike stopped and closed his eyes, focusing on the pull of his demon towards its mate, the irresistible attraction of her light drawing him towards her. Dirty water sloshed around his boots, rats scurrying away from his approaching feet as Spike made his way through the tunnels and heaved himself out of a manhole, the blanket over his head as he sought the refuge of the nearest shadow.


******


“I’m going to get you home,” Joyce whispered into her ear, her voice thick with unshed tears as she stroked Buffy’s hair.


Home? How did her mother know where she lived? Home… Spike would be so worried if she didn’t come back soon.


“I… yeah, I have to go… home,” Buffy said, looking around in confusion. “Spike will be worried-”


“What happened to you? Where were you all the time?” Joyce grasped her shoulders, her expression a mixture of exasperation, hope, and grief.


“I… can’t,” Buffy answered. Not like this. Not now. Maybe she never would. Hurting her mother with the knowledge of what she’d been through was the last thing Buffy wanted.


“And who’s this… Spike?” Joyce asked, the name rolling off her tongue with disdain.


Buffy was quiet. Her mother would never understand what he meant to her, had done for her, struggling with the monster within to be a better man. Not when the supernatural world was still something to be hidden behind excuses and with the fear of being locked up in a madhouse ever present.


“Is he the reason you left? Did you run away with a boy? How could you do this to me? To your father? Do you have any idea what we’ve been through, trying to find you, thinking you were… How could you, Buffy?” Her eyes were accusing and hurt as she let go of Buffy’s shoulders.


Was it worth it to keep her mother in the dark, to bear her disdain for something Buffy hadn’t even done?


One look at her, and Buffy knew that the truth would destroy her. Knowing that her daughter had been raped time and time again, stripped of her innocence and pride. If lying meant lessening her mother’s pain, then that was what she had to do.


“I’m sorry, mom,” Buffy whispered as she took a step back and away from the sight of the false truth dawning in her mother’s eyes.


“How could you?” Joyce asked, as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Do you hate me that much? Is it because we sent you to the institute? You needed help! All that talk about vampires-”


“I don’t hate you! Don’t you see? I’ve just-”


“You what? Decided to break my heart and just run off? I know I haven’t always been the best mother, but… the least you could have done was call me and let me know that you were alive.”


Buffy squeezed her eyes closed, a wave of nausea washing over her after she’d seen the expression on her mother’s face. The disappointment. She couldn’t tell her even though the white lies stained her hands, needing so much to be the child that could let all the barriers down and let her mother hold her as she wept.


She hadn’t been a child for a long time.


“I-” Buffy gazed at her mother, feeling the invisible wall separating them like a tangible force. “Can we just… can we just start over?”


Joyce hesitated, obviously trying to smother her temper as she leveled Buffy with a look she knew better than to oppose. “I want to meet him,” she said resolutely, then softened her tone. “I’m here for a week, and then I have to get back to LA. I’m staying at a colleague’s place… she found some antiquities for my gallery that I’ve been seeking for a long time-”


Buffy watched her mother close the distance between them and hug her, whispering into her ear, “You can come whenever you like. Or at least call me.” She pushed an address card into Buffy’s hand, closing her fingers around it before she squeezed them and let her daughter go.


One last glance, and Buffy’s feet were pounding against the pavement, ignoring the grocery bag hindering her movement as she ran down the street as if hellhounds were chasing after her, wearing face of the past Buffy couldn’t deal with. No matter how fast she ran, the image of her mother’s hurt expression was engraved into her retinas. She let out a yelp when a hand snatched her from the side, dragging her into the shadows of an alleyway.


******


Spike felt Buffy getting closer and when he spotted her running past him, he didn’t hesitate to yank her into the shadows. Their bodies collided and they fell to the concrete as Spike lost his balance.


“Wha-” Buffy started to say, but the rest faded away when Spike rolled her under him and sank his teeth into her neck.


The pain flashed through her veins, but it was gone in a moment, leaving her breathless and too aware of Spike’s jumbled feelings as she held onto his arms. A cool tongue licked at the twin puncture marks as growls vibrated against her skin.


She watched him lift his face to stare down at her, blue eyes flickering yellow, muscles tense. “What the bloody hell did you do that for?”


“I-”


“Do you have any sodding idea how dangerous it is? I know you’re the Slayer, but anything could have happened to you, and when I felt you… the sun’s up, Buffy! If something happened to you, I couldn’t-”


He turned his face away, squeezing his eyes shut to force away the tears threatening to spill over. He’d never been more terrified in his existence and it scared him to think he might have lost her. It made him even more angry.


“I can’t lose you!” he said roughly, and glanced down at her when he felt her tremble.


A sob escaped her throat, and she looked so lost that all anger abruptly faded away like a cloud of smoke.


“I c-can’t seem to do anything r-right!” Buffy managed to say before she collapsed into heaving sobs and flowing tears that tore at Spike’s heart with frightening intensity.


“God, I’m such a wanker. I’m sorry, luv. Please don’t cry… I can’t stand it.” Spike rose, tugging Buffy along with him as he enveloped her in a tight embrace, pressing apologetic kisses into her hair.


“I screw e-everything up,” she said.


His demon finally at peace, having Buffy close and touching her, allowed Spike to clear his head. When the scent of her reached his nostrils, he growled.


“Are you hurt?” He asked, scanning her over with frantic gaze. “I can smell your blood.”


“I’m not hurt… I-”


“What?” Spike inspected her, seeking a cut or a bruise concealed by her clothes.


“I… didn’t you read the note?”


“Note? What note? Bloody hell, Buffy… just tell me where you’re hurt so I can help you!” He fought the urge to shake her.


“It’s… umm, I got my period this morning and there were no… so I went to buy tampons.” She gestured at the bag on the pavement, which she dropped after Spike had tackled her.


“Oh,” Spike said sheepishly, and rubbed at the back of his neck.


Buffy squirmed and picked up the bag. “Spike?”


“Yeah?”


“I really need to go home.” She grimaced and glanced into the sunlit street.


“Right. Umm… But we’re going via sewers. They stink like… well, shit, but there’s no way around it. No way in hell I’m leaving you to go alone.”


“Okay.” Buffy walked into the street and lifted the lid of the manhole, dropping in after Spike dived in, blanket smoldering.


******


“You’re saying you met your mum? Just like that?”


They lounged comfortably on the couch, Buffy’s head resting in Spike’s lap as he stroked her hair with his fingers.


“Yeah, it was… strange. I was so happy to see her, you know? But at the same time I… I don’t know. It scared me.”


“It figures.”


“It does?” Buffy asked, perplexed.


“Well, yeah. Seeing your mum like that, it brought all the past memories back to the surface and what not. I figure you’re not ready to deal with telling her yet, and going to a shrink which I’m sure she’d make you.”


“I don’t want to go. I have you to talk to.”


Spike glanced down at her. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to help, luv.”


“You already did. More than anyone ever could. I could never talk to a stranger about the things I’ve told you. And even if I could, what’s the point when I’d just have to lie about what really happened,” Buffy said, closing her eyes at the feel of Spike’s capable fingers massaging her scalp.


“Yeah, I reckon the shrink would think you’re off your rocker if you mentioned demons.”


“And if I told them I was being… raped… and abused, for money. Well-”


“They’d end up bringing police into it too,” Spike finished.


“Yeah. It’s not like they would just let it go if I told anyone I was being prostituted,” Buffy said bitterly. “Please, Spike… promise me, you won’t tell anyone!”


“Sure I won’t. It’s your call, kitten.” Spike glanced at the muted television, watching a lioness hunt its prey. “Never trusted those psychiatric gits anyway. Bad childhood seems to be the reason for everything these days.”


“I don’t think I can ever tell her… it would hurt her to know. More that it hurts me to keep the secret-” Spike could feel her anxiety. There was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t press her.


“And I… I don’t want to go to the mental hospital again.” Her voice was so quiet Spike barely caught it, but when he did, his demon wanted to claw its way on the surface and exact revenge.


“What do you mean?” he asked, deceptively calm, even though there was no hiding what he felt. Not from her.


“It was… when I became the Slayer… I was so scared, you know? I tried to tell them… my parents. I tried to tell them, to explain why everything went so downhill. My grades, my behavior. I told them what I was, but they didn’t believe me… thought I was going crazy so they sent me… to the clinic. I learned to fake it, said I just made it up so they would let me go. They did after few weeks, but… I still have nightmares sometimes. About being there.”


Spike clenched his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm and not go on a warpath. She wouldn’t like it if he hurt her parents even though they deserved it in his mind. Nobody went around hurting his slayer and got away with it.


“What did you tell your mum today?” he asked, pushing the murderous thoughts aside.


“She assumed I ran off with a boy, so I kind of left her in it. She’ll forgive me one day… won’t she?”


“’Course she will,” he assured her, scratching her back lightly. “Besides, I am a real handsome boy. Really, luv. Who could blame you?” Spike smirked and Buffy smiled.


They watched television for a while, Buffy monopolizing the remote and switching through the channels at a dizzying speed.


“How can you even know what’s on the telly when you barely see a second of it?” Spike asked.


“It’s a thing,” Buffy answered, smiling against his thigh.


“How’s your belly? Still hurts?”


“Would you bring me another cup of hot chocolate if I said yes?” Buffy asked, focusing her wide hopeful gaze on him.


Spike chuckled. “Whatever my princess wants.” He extricated himself from beneath her and went to the kitchen. “Want some marshmallows in it?” he called.


“Yes, please!”


He came back a few minutes later, cup of steaming chocolate in his hand, and Buffy licked her lips, eagerly sitting up and snatching it from him.


“Mmmm… yummy,” she moaned in bliss after the first sip and grinned at Spike.


He plopped down next to her, throwing his arm around her shoulders as she snuggled to his side. “Not as yummy as you,” Spike said in his teasing, sexy voice and she blushed.


“Pig,” she said good-naturedly.


“Never said I wasn’t.” Spike inhaled and let out a tortured groaned. “Bloody hell, the smell of you is driving me insane.”


“I smell?”


Spike eyes focused on her pout, unable to resist as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers in a languid kiss, his tongue dipping into her mouth to steal away the taste of Buffy merging with chocolate.


“Delicious,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to taste you.”


“You just did,” she panted against his mouth.


“I want to have a taste of a different sort.” He gazed intensely into her eyes, licking his lips as he glanced at her nether regions. Buffy’s eyes widened as she caught on his meaning.


“But… it’s so gross!”


“Vamp here. Nothing more delicious than your blood mixed with your juices.” Spike sucked her earlobe into his mouth, tugging at it with his blunt teeth.


Buffy’s mind rushed, trying to come up with a topic that would distract him from this particular plan, though the waves of his lust combined with hers lapping at her insides made it difficult.


There was something she wanted to discuss with him… something important. Blood. Injuries. That was it!


“Spike!”


“Hmmm?” he rasped into her ear, making Buffy shiver and almost stealing her thoughts away.


She distanced herself from his wandering hands and kissable lips, trying to control her own quick breath. “There’s something I needed to ask you.”


“Can’t it wait?” Spike pouted, trying to scoot closer to her, but encountering the palm of her hand on his chest preventing him from doing so. He frowned.


“You’re very distractive… ummm, you promised to tell me about the bruises.”


Spike’s whole demeanor changed in a blink of an eye, his emotions shutting off, matching the guarded look in his eyes.


“I know you’re not just plain fighting. I need to know… I worry about you! And you promised to tell me the truth. Or was it just to shut me up before we slept together?”


“That’s not it and you know it.”


She knew, but if there was a way to make Spike talk; there was no better way than to make him lose control than to make him angry. She waited.


“Bloody hell… I’m doing it for you, alright? I’m hunting down and killing every one of the sods that have touched you! Demons, humans… I don’t’ bloody care! I’m killing all of them, and I’m not gonna stop until the last one bites the dust, no matter what you say.”


“What?” Buffy asked, a lone tear spilling down her cheek.


TBC

Author's note: My course work is piling on, and essays are due in a couple of weeks, so I hope I'll be able to keep up the weekly updates. Reviews always help me write. *winks*