This part is being written after "Bargaining," and "After Life". I had started writing this after the 2 hour show, but didn´t get it done so now I am finishing up after making a few minor changes after seeing "After Life" so that things mesh a little more than what I had started. I have no VCR so most of this is all from memory and impressions, and a bit from the shooting script. The first part can be found at In The Heart Of Darkness—http://fangslover.0catch.com./Reanimation1.htm Feedback firstname.lastname@example.org
Usual disclaimers apply.
With the death of their leader, and a good chunk of their membership, the demon horde that had invaded Sunnydale decided to leave for easier pickings after the survivors told their fellows that the Slayer was really back, and ‘not´ a robot. Some friendly persuasion from Spike also helped as he went around town, and did clean up work on the remnants of the bikers. Though most of his death dealing was out of frustration because he couldn´t find Dawn after she had run off from him when they had found the bot dismembered in a parking lot. He fought his way to the Magic Box in hopes that the girl had had enough sense to stay low and head for the shop.
When he did make it there on his new bike, he was surprised to see that the shop had not been broken into. Every other shop had been vandalized, or destroyed, but miraculously not the refuge of the Scoobie gang. Probably because the shop was warded to the hilt inside, and out against demons, gods, or other nasties. He was surprised to find the door unlocked, but no one inside.
"Watcher? Witches? Demon-girl? Harris? Anyone home?" he yelled standing in the middle of the store, looking around perplexed, and hearing nothing, not even a heartbeat.
But they had been there earlier, Maybe a hour or so before. He could tell by the lingering scents in the air. Except there was an animal blood smell mixed in with the faint odors he was picking up with his scenes along with traces of heavy duty magicks. It was ‘deer´—"what the hell?" he asked himself. "What did deer blood have to do with all this??"
Then the magick traces were even stronger than what Willow had been using recently, and those were extremely potent and dangerous enough. "What the fuck had they all been doing? And where was the bloody Watcher? And why was he being kept out of the loop again?" he asked outloud angrily, still looking around, and trying to get a handle on what the others had been doing. Whatever it was it was clear that the Watcher wasn´t in on it anymore than he was. His scent was fainter than the others, older, many hours older. Something was very off now.
And Dawn was still out there somewhere. He debated between staying, and waiting for the others, or continue his search. He decided to search, and try to find the girl. Maybe he´d run into her on the way. Some soddin´ baby-sitter he was. And if anything happened to her, he didn´t know what he´d do. He´d gladly meet the sunrise if the girl he had come to love as his own had been injured or hurt. He still couldn´t figure out why she had took off the way she had.
Last he recalled seeing her do was that she was bending over the bot, and the bot had been talking with her. He still couldn´t stand to get to near the thing. It was just too bloody painful to deal with. The other night when he had brought up his body, and how sexy he was had done a real number to his head. Will was supposed to have gotten all that garbage out of the bot´s system. He guessed she had missed some stuff—still it didn´t make it any easier to handle hearing the bot say that, and remind him all too painfully of his mistakes and failings with Buffy and that Buffy would never have said that anyway to him even if she was alive. She was gone, and he was dealing with it as best he could, but seeing, and having to work with the robot made it that much harder to bear.
He hadn´t been paying either of them that much attention as even if it was just a robot, watching it die was like watching Buffy die—again, so he had stayed away trying to see if any of the robots parts were salvageable. He had noted the thing talking to the kid, and figured it was telling Dawn goodbye for good. He was going to be there for the Nibblet when she broke down, but until then he´d give her space. But the next thing he knew she was hightailing it down the road moving so fast he was shocked, and could only yell at her.
Seeing that she didn´t hear him, or was ignoring him for some reason he had to go follow her. It took a minute to get the bike going, but by that time she had disappeared. Riding along the streets, he couldn´t catch her scent on the wind which further frustrated him. He had to keep looking until he found her, otherwise the Scoobies would have his hide. He couldn´t figure out where any of them were.
He drove around, and checked at Harris´ place, no one was there, or had been there for a while since that morning. The same with the Watcher´s place. Since the witches had moved into Buffy´s house to take care of Dawn, he headed there hoping somehow everyone had made it safely there. He drove by the Magic Box one more time. No one had been back since he had been in so he headed towards the house.
He passed several cop, cars and ambulances as well as fire trucks. He was amused in a grim way that the cops were finally out, along with the other civil authorities—now that there wasn´t anything for them do except cleanup work. And just seeing the damage as he rode through the streets made him upset that the damned idiots had hid like they always did when ever the supernatural nasties reared their heads for a bit of fun and mayhem. Everyone had gotten complacent since Buffy had been around to do damage control, and with the bot and the Scoobies taking up the slack the police hadn´t known any difference. It was going to get even grimmer now since he knew by just looking at the robot torn to pieces on the ground that it was beyond any quick repair jobs by Willow. Now what were they going to do? And not just because of the bot´s slaying part.
What was little bit going to do with no Buffy presence in their house? The witches could only do so much, and Willow still hadn´t been able to prefect her ‘glamour´ spell to fool people yet except for brief periods of time. It was only a matter of time until the proverbial shit hit the fan for all of them, but the real victim in all of this was going to be the Nibblet. He might just have to grab her, and do a run away from Sunnyhell just to keep her safe. That might be the only choice left to keep the girl safe, and to keep his promise to Buffy which he would keep—if he could find the soddin´ idiot girl. Ohh, they were going to have a bloody long talk when he did find her.
So far he had been going along with Will, and the Watcher to try the bot, and to act like everything was normal. Hell, they´d even buried Buffy where they thought no one would come across her grave in the woods outside of town. But it boiled down to he was dealing with bloody kids who thought they knew what they were doing. Let´s face it, none of the lot was even twenty-one yet, outside of the Watcher. The man had been bloody useless because of his grief, and had gone along with anything Willow came up with for the whole bunch of them to do. Though Spike had been damned surprised that the Watcher hadn´t tried to get legal custody of the girl. The only answer he had gotten on that score was that no one wanted to make waves, or let the authorities know anything had changed. So he had shut his mouth, and stayed out of all the major decision making as much as he could.
The witches had moved into to Joyce´s old bedroom, and made themselves at home. It seemed the only logical thing to do. Dawn couldn´t live by herself, and the neighbors knew Joyce was dead, and were used to seeing Buffy´s friends in, and out all the time. Dawn had explained to anyone that asked that the girls had moved in to help with the bills, and because they had the space anyway, and it was cheaper than them living on campus at the dorms. Somehow Willow was able to cover Buffy´s being gone with social services, and Mr. Summers who finally decided to call two months after Buffy´s death, and he began sending checks to help out with a slight magical push from Willow. She didn´t tell the group she had used a glamour of sorts to change her voice and had pretended to be Buffy to her father. It had worked and that was all Willow cared about, results. Once the bot was up and running its appearance wandering around the town completed the illusion that all was fine in the Summer´s household.
Spike did show up every day, and check on Dawn, and watched her when the others were out if she wasn´t over at one of her friend´s homes instead. He even had a spot in the basement under the stairs to crash if he got caught at the house after sunrise, and couldn´t make it back to his crypt. He had been fully accepted into the group, more than he had realized. And it had felt bloody good to be accepted finally as an equal among them.
Though lately they had all been odd, talking in cryptic tones then shutting up whenever he, Giles, or Dawn were around, and more heavily distracted, worried even than usual too. There was something up but he could figure out what yet. Then there was all this talk about Giles leaving. The Watcher was going to sell out to Anya who had not only managed to take her salary then double, triple, and he wasn´t sure what else with investments and stock trading online. Demon girl was a bloody genius when it came to money because of her of not having any with to equated to being helpless, powerless in the human world.
Snapping his thoughts back to the present, Spike did note that the tower that the fight with Glory had been on had collasped. Good, it had been a bloody painful reminder of his failure, and their loss. He saw it collapsing in his rearview mirror as he left the center of town heading for Buffy´s. He stopped the bike, and watched the rest of the structure fall from a couple of blocks away, and debated whether to go check it out, or go on. For a couple of seconds he felt that maybe the Nibblet might have gone there, but then he shook off the thoughts because he couldn´t come up with a good reason for her to do so. That was the last place any of them wanted to be around. Still he kept feeling her in that direction, so he turned the bike around, and went to check it out.
He pulled up, and stopped, sniffing the air outside of the fence. There was a scent there of her, but it was faint. But she had been here after all. And there was another scent as well, odd, yet familiar, but not quite right. Not demon, though not entirely human either, almost in an odd way like Buffy smelled but that couldn´t be right. She was dead, gone, buried. Still the strange, yet familiar scent bothered him, and worried him. He got off the bike, and started looking around the site just be sure Dawn wasn´t still here, or injured. What his senses told him was not good. She had been here, and she had been on the damned thing as it was collapsing, but somehow had managed to land safety along with the other unknown person with her. Then the two had left. He followed for several blocks on foot then lost them. He cussed as he walked back to his bike, and revved it up. It looked like she was either heading home, or to the magic Box and he was running out of soddin´ time. On the horizon the eastern sky was beginning to lighten. He had to find the girl and know she was safe even if he did burn up looking for her. He headed for the house and prayed she was there safe and sound.
What was surprising him that he hadn´t heard a telepathic peep out of Willow, or the other witch all night. Usually they checked in a lot with him during a night. What he sensed on her end was a deliberate block like she was trying to not contact him for some reason. He tried calling her in his head, but there was nothing. A big black nothing like a wall. But it wasn´t a bad wall. He just couldn´t make out anything going on behind it. He´d worry later what that meant as he wove his bike around still burning cars, and wreckage on the normal quiet streets of Sunnydale.
Across town Dawn, and Buffy had made their way slowly back to Buffy´s house also avoiding the local cops. Dawn had seen Spike looking for her, but she had deliberately hid herself, and Buffy, being not ready to deal with him because she knew she was going to be in deep trouble, and Buffy wasn´t barely dealing with her. Gradually, Buffy was getting back her memories, and awareness, though her sight, and hearing were still bad.
Finally they arrived at their house which hadn´t suffered the fate of the other houses in the neighborhood. But Buffy stood numbly outside looking up at it not recognizing it..
"Home?" Buffy asked Dawn still confused when they came up the walkway.
"Yeah, this is our home, Buffy, don´t you remember?" the girl asked.
Buffy shook her head, "No. I—can´t remember," she replied sadly as they got on the porch.
"Come on, it´s safe," Dawn reassured her leading her inside.
"You changed things," Buffy said looking around, noticing. "Things are different." Buffy frowns when she sees the dinning room and the computer equipment set up on the end of the table.
"Yeah, a little. Willow and Tara moved in to take care of me," Dawn explained as she followed the exploring Buffy from room to room, worrying about her unhappy expression, and lack of enthusiasm for anything as well as catching the angry undertones when she did speak, or comment on anything. It was clear to Buffy that Willow and Tara had made themselves very much at home in ‘her´ home.
Buffy allowed Dawn to take her upstairs, and helped her change out of her funeral outfit. Obediently, Buffy took a shower, and got the dirt washed off her still numb feeling body, and out of her longer hair, but she felt far from clean. She moved robot like still, having to be helped, or prodded into doing things like putting her clothes on, drying, and fixing her hair. Like a zombie she stood while Dawn dressed her, all the while staring, unseeing, her vision focused elsewhere while her face, and eyes radiated with a mixture of anger, and deep sorrow that her sister couldn´t figure out. Only Dawn´s joy in having her back, and her comforting words seem to bring Buffy back to her present surroundings, and dissipate her grim mood.
Dawn finally noticed Buffy´s hands, and tried to look at them, but Buffy quickly hid them behind her back, ashamed. It was clear that the young woman didn´t want to be fussed over anymore, or have to explain them, but they do need to be taken care of. Dawn is about ready to when a sudden loud noise from downstairs startles and frightens both of them, and they realize it is the sound of the front door opening. Buffy goes into defensive mode immediately, all her senses on alert to deal with the intruder. Then they hear Spike yelling angrily asking Dawn if she is home.
"I´m up here, Spike!" Dawn yells back, and runs down the stairs to go meet him before he charges up, and scares the already skittish Buffy.
Standing at the bottom of the stairs ready to go up, Spike says, "Thank God! You scared me to death—or more to death. I could tear your head off and drink from your brain stem for what you did!" he rants up at her not understanding why she is smiling.
Dawn comes down the steps knowing she fully deserves his anger big time for her stunt of taking off without a word to him, but she can explain. "Spike, look who´s here," Dawn said simply with a slight smile, looking back over her shoulder, and moving aside so Spike can see Buffy.
"So it´s the bot. I´ve seen her already. What about it…," and his words trail off as he looks more closely, and almost passes out when he realizes it´s not the bot, but is the real Buffy—alive.
"It´s Buffy, Spike. She´s back," Dawn says happily.
He stares up at Buffy speechless for once looking her over. Already he can tell she is human, not a vampire, but there is still something off that he can´t put his finger on yet. She looks so sad, and lost, and not a little angry too, but not at him, he realizes, but more like she´s not real happy to be back. Though that confuses him as he is so happy to see her, but he senses that happy is not what she needs, calm is, no pressure, so he holds his joy back waiting to see what she wants to do. He can only look at her in awe, and hope that this isn´t a dream. But she´s back, really back, alive, breathing, blood pumping through her veins, and then he catches the scent of her blood, and he focuses on the source. Then his mind snaps to awareness of how she had to brought back.
"What did you do?" Spike accuses Dawn angrily.
She looks confused, hurt. "Me? I didn´t do a thing? I just found her. I don´t know how she got back," she tells him truthfully.
Then he sees Buffy´s torn up hands which she tries to hide behind her back again. His eyes open in shocked alarm, then in grim understanding of why her hands are that way. There is a momentary flash of anger, but not at her, but for whoever did this to her, and what she had had to go through to dig her way out of her grave. They lock eyes, and he knows exactly what happened, and how very shaken she is by the experience. There will be hell to pay for this, and he´s got a good idea of who might be responsible. "She clawed her way out the coffin," he tells Dawn whose eyes widen in shock and horror for Buffy.
Buffy nods, "That's what I...had to do," she says her eyes meeting his briefly before she looks down again ashamed.
He looks at her, understanding, and for a moment he's smiling. But then he shakes it off. "Come, luv, let´s get you taken care of," he says as she slowly comes the final few steps down the stairs.
Spike starts to touch her, to guide her to the dining room to find a place to sit, but then stops short of actually touching her. He wants to so badly, but he´s also afraid, and scared to. That if he does touch she´s either bolt, or she won´t be real after all. And once he does finally hold her he´ll never want to let her go again, and he´ll break down and cry, and that would freak her out more, he´s afraid. She lets him take her hands, and they sit down in the chairs by the dining room table.
"Go get the mercurochrome, and the bandages," Spike tells Dawn, and she runs to do it. Once she is on her way Spike turns back to Buffy, very conscious of the fact that she is still letting him hold her small warm hands in his. "It is really you," he says finally, meeting her pain filled eyes.
"Yeah, I guess," she replies with an indifferent shrug, her voice still flat sounding as she lowers her eyes uncomfortably.
"I didn´t know. I had nothing to do with this," he tells her feeling her tremble.
"I know. You would have been there if you had known…to stop this…from happening."
"Probably. Or if I couldn´t have…been there to help you…so you wouldn´t have had to do this," he said fighting back his tears as he tenderly holds up her hands. "Buff, I am so sorry…you had to go through this…being living and all. I was a vampire…and it was bloody bad enough."
"Now we have something in common," she sighs bitterly. Her expression is hollow, still haunted by the terrors she has gone through since awakening.
"That´s not anything what I would want us to have in common. You could have bloody died all over again, and no one would have known. If you hadn´t had your slayer strength… . I don´t want to even think what could have happened," he choked back his tears, not wanting to start sobbing in front of her.
"I woke up in the dark…no air…hard to breathe, and then I knew. I knew, Spike…I was alive again and I had been dead. I remember dying…jumping into the light…the pain…then it was gone…and…." She swallowed, getting too emotional from her memories, not wanting to go on, and tell him the rest. "They brought me back…why? I—I didn´t want this," she confessed, trying to control her inner anger.
Spike does understand her more than he wants to. He sighs inwardly wanting to say something supportive, but he can´t, not really. He had awoken changed, and powerful from the weakling he had been. Whereas she was physically unchanged, but more damaged, he sensed mentally, and emotionally, than she had been. "I don´t know, luv. We all missed you, but I didn´t know they were going to do this. It´s wrong."
Buffy wants to agree with him, but hesitates to say so because he, like Dawn, is so happy she´s back. She never really noticed how much what he was feeling could be seen in the depths of his startling blue eyes. He still loved her. He hadn´t stopped caring with her death. She is his focus, his reason for being, along with her sister. They are his world. But his love, and happiness are making her uncomfortable, and she lowers her eyes away from his intense scrutiny. "How long?" Buffy asks him, trying to verve the subject away a little from the rightness, or wrongness of her resurrection..
"One hundred and forty-seven days, it would have been one hundred, and forty-eight today," he told her. "How long as it been for you?"
"Longer," she says torn between wanting, and not wanting to say more when the gang bursts in loudly and noisely looking for both Dawn, and Buffy.
Buffy jumps back from him afraid, and as the gang comes rushing towards her in mass. Spike jumps up away from her, unsure what to do, but not before seeing how lost, and frightened she is. Her eyes beg him to stay, but he can´t as her well meaning friends thrust themselves forcibly in between them. Crowding around her, crowding him out, they are all talking at once, the intensity of their emotions deafening in the once quiet room. He cannot help her. He cannot protect her. He has failed again in his mind. Dawn looks to him for help as Buffy´s friends hover anxiously around the cowed girl sitting on the chair on seeming display. But he has already turned away unable to face them either. Wrapped in his own mixture of pain, rage, and bitter happiness, he bolts out the door into the night once again the outsider, no longer part of those he had just began to consider friends himself.
Since Buffy is too shaken, and Spike has left without a word, Dawn yells at Buffy´s four friends, "Back Off! Leave Her Alone!" They look back at the teenage girl in shock for a moment, but then go right back to trying to talk to Buffy.
"What did you do?" Dawn yells at Willow her voice trembling with emotion.
Willow looks back at her surprised at her anger. "It was a spell."
Dawn is spooked. "Is she all right?" she asks.
Anya breaks in to ask "what it was like where Buffy was?"
Buffy can't talk about it, and looks at Anya appalled that she´d even ask, and cringes back in her chair away from them all.
Xander to break the growing tension in the room wants to get her something. "Pizza!"
Everybody likes that idea, and they start clamoring again.
Dawn tells them again to "back off!" her tone saying she means it now.
Willow says "yes, they need to be quiet and let Buffy tell them what she needs."
They all look at Buffy anxious and worried. Buffy says, "I just need to sleep."
"Yeah," Anya says, "Jet lag from hell is...jet lag from hell."
Buffy goes upstairs.
Willow, trying to be reassuring, tells everyone that," Buffy is fine, just fine. She used to go to bed all the time!" she says.
Xander and Anya leave. Anya thinks something went wrong and that Buffy isn't "right."
They find Spike leaning against
his tree, his back to them. His eyes are closed, and he looks haggard.
He's holding very still, as though he's afraid to move. When he hears them,
though, he wipes away
tears so they won't see he's been crying.
Xander says, "I hope you're not going to start your little obsession now that she's around again."
Spike grabs him and slams him against the tree. The chip doesn't zap him though Xander´s eyes widen in shock from Spike being able to do it. Either it's stopped working, or he didn't intend to hurt Xander.
"You didn't tell me," he says, his voice ragged. "You brought her back and -you didn't tell me!!"
"Well, now you know," Xander says, snidely.
Spike looks at him. The hurt is rolling off him in waves. "I worked beside you -all summer---."
Xander seems to get how much this means to Spike. "We didn't tell you," he says, sincerely trying to explain now. "It was just... We didn't, okay?"
Spike lets him go, roughly.
"Listen," he says, "I figured it out." Spike is beyond upset, as he tries
to put the situation into words that the thick kid can understand. here.
"Maybe you haven't, but I have. Willow ‘knew´ there was a chance
that she'd come back...wrong. So wrong that you'd..." He breaks
off, his voice cracking. "So wrong that she'd have to get rid of what came back. And I wouldn't let her." He gestures toward the house. "Any part of that was Buffy, and I wouldn't let her. ‘That's´ why she shut me out." Spike rationalizes.
Xander is appalled. "What are you talking about? Willow wouldn't do that!"
Spike steps back. "Ohhhhh, wouldn't she?" he asks. How blind is this kid? He wonders looking at him and sees that unfortunately the kid is, especially when it comes to magick he trust Willow completely as do the others he realizes. And the blonde witch hasn´t been quite right or that questioning of things since she had her brain sucked by Glory and restored by Willow. Even the ex-demon should have known better than to do this and he casts a glance at her and sees she did know, but wasn´t going to say anything. God, this is a stupid lot, he thinks in disgust. And where is the soddin Watcher when you need him? Knowing that Giles is going to ream Willow out right and proper when he does hear what has happened. The witch is going to see Ripper up close.
"Look," Xander says, taking the offensive so he doesn't have to think about this, "you're just covering. Look me in the eye and tell me that when you saw Buffy it wasn't the happiest moment of your entire existence."
Spike looks at him for a long moment, but doesn't say anything. He turns, heads for his new bike parked at the curb. "That's the thing about magic," he says, not looking at Xander. "There's always consequences. ALWAYS." He roars off on the bike wanting to get away from these idiot children, but unhappy to leave Buffy to their ‘tender´ care.
As he speeds towards his crypt he knows they have no idea what they have done to their friend, and if they do they are covering in heavy denial. What he can´t understand is why weren´t the soddin´ lot there to help her? What the same hell happened? They did the spell, why didn´t they realize that Buffy would be in her coffin still if they brought her back? Why hadn´t dug her out? And what kind of spell was it? He had smelt the deer´s blood on Willow along with demon´s, and her own along with the tang of ancient magicks.
He would bet that the Rupert had no idea what Willow had been up to. How long had they been planning this-- months? And he and Rupert hadn´t caught on at all? God, he really was losing his touch. Usually he knew before anyone what the Scoobies were up to. But yeah, the Witch had kept him, and the Watcher pretty distracted all summer long fighting demons, and keeping track of Dawn.
But Buffy was alive! He had to keep telling himself. He had felt her warm flesh, felt her pulse, and smelt the tang of her blood on the air. He had heard her breath, seen her chest rise and fall, and she had talked. But her eyes—her eyes were haunted, lost. She was in deep pain from her experiences whether it was from where she had been, or from the trauma of awaking inside a coffin alive after being dead, and knowing she had died too.
He remembered his own awakening in his coffin. That kind of thing never left you—you´re awakening. Waking up in the dark, alone---the absolute quiet all around you except for your movements. Then you began to hear the worms crawling through the ground around you trying to find their way in to where you lay helpless and frightened. Then you hear the muffled sounds from far, far above. It dawns on you where you are and how you must have got there. But you died. And this isn´t heaven, and you´re not too sure if this is hell either. You´re awake, and aware when you shouldn´t be. You begin to hyperventilate in panic then realize that you don´t have to breath, but you´re still freaking all the same. You frantically begin tearing at the satin not two inches above you, and reach the hard wooden surface that is the lid of the coffin you´re in. Your fingernails scrap against it, digging deep furrows, and you feel your fingers that have become frantic claws, and your sore knuckles beginning to bleed. The smell your own blood in the close confines of the space you are trapped in sets off a hunger you didn´t know you had within you, and adds fuel to your growing rage and fear. You pound, smash your fists against the wood, and you hear the wood begin to split, and crack, the sounds deafening to your sensitive ears. Then you´re through as your fist finally goes all the way through the top, and dirt falls down upon you in a thick, cold, musty avalanche covering your eyes, filling your mouth, and you try to scream, and can´t because it´s covering you, choking you. This makes you more frantic to escape, and you make the opening larger, and fight the tide of dirt pouring in on you, surrounding you in its clammy embrace, making it hard to move, but you fight with the strength born out of your fears of being forever trapped in this small, stygian space. Somehow you squeeze out of the hole you have made while digging upward through the dirt that mercifully hasn´t yet become hard packed by rain or times passage. You feel like a worm, a mole as you dig with bleeding, dirty hands ever upward to what you hope is the surface, to the open sky, to freedom. You break through after what seems like endless hours as time has lost all meaning because you are so focused on your goal. Your strength almost exhausted you climb out of the hole you have made and lay weakly on the ground to stare into the blessed sight of a full moon in a velvet sky. Behind you hear delighted feminine giggling, and an answering masculine rumble and you turn to meet your new family who welcome you into your new unexpected life.
So where had her friends been? Where had been those who supposedly cared, and loved her? "God, Buffy, how could they have done that to you?" he cried, fighting his tears, and pain for her as he parked his bike next to the crypt, and got off already feeling the prickling on the just risen sun on his back. He opened the crypt door, and pushing the bike inside, and put it by one side of the door. Leaving it out would be an invitation for someone to steal it thinking it was abandoned. He closed the door, not bothering to lock it. Staggering wearily over to his chair he collapsed, and reached for the bottle of Jack he had left sitting on the floor by the end table. He took two long slugs of it ignoring the burning of the liquor as it went down. He needed the pain, welcomed it.
Spike didn´t bother to turn the television on. He didn´t want the noise, or its insipid cheeriness to disturb his raging thoughts as he got himself thoroughly plastered until he was finally able to pass out, and for a time forget everything. But the thought that his golden angel had been returned to him, and this time he wasn´t going to screw up this chance they had both been given kept him awake. He decided that whatever she needed he would gladly give her. Whether it was space, time, anything just as long as she was happy, and well. But he also knew that her being over this was going to be a long time coming. They really didn´t know the sheer horror of her experience, and he suspected that she wouldn´t tell them what she really had gone through unless they pushed her. And that mattered was she was back. She was alive! His love was really alive, and with that thought a sad smile came to his mouth, and he did finally go to sleep to dream of her, and how he hoped it would be between them.
End Part 2.
Angel Animated Gifts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
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