Chapter 44: Forgiveness
A/N: Long time between updates, but I’m motivated to finish this. And my deleted chapters (thanks to the hard drive crash) are partially recovered, so I’m working on filling the gaps.
Unbetaed, because I just want to get it posted, so if there are any glaring spelling errors etc, please send me a PM so I can fix them.
Thanks to: VickyT, Havena, dmf109, mii22y, SpikeStratz and Dactylgirl for reviewing the last chapter.
It didn’t take Spike long to find her, the nurse who’d tried to see to him early caught one look at him and pointed to the room she was in. There was no hesitation, no waiting at her door. He was afraid. Afraid that when he walked in she wouldn’t be alright as he’d been told. Afraid that she wouldn’t want to see him. And if she truly was ok, and awake… he was afraid of what she would have to say to him.
But nothing was going to halt him from being by her side. He had to see her himself, before he would truly believe she was ok. As he strode toward her door he took a deep breath, to bolster his courage, and walked in.
The first thing he noticed was how pale she still was. So, so pale. All the ire and bluster from talking with Angel faded at the sight of how fragile she appeared.
“Oh, Buffy,” he breathed, his voice catching with emotion.
She looked so small, curled up on her side with blankets wrapped all around her like she was an infant. Her head rested on her pillows, arms clutched before her. Her eyes were shut, her thick dark lashes a stain against the paleness of her skin.
He moved closer, quietly, not wanting to wake her.
Spike reached her hospital bed, by her side, mere inches from her, and he froze. She was breathing. She was breathing. And a tiny part of him relaxed, the hope inside him bloomed.
He moved closer still his hand reaching to touch her hair. His hand shook and he withdrew, closed his fist and brought it to his side. He didn’t have the right to touch her.
A sigh escaped his lips and he dropped to a crouch, the energy and adrenaline that had kept him going to long escaping him. He dropped his head to the edge of the mattress, closing his eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “So, so sorry.”
The grief he’d kept at bay finally broke free, and the tears began to flow. A steady flow, which quickly became a torrent, as his shoulders began to shake from the force of his anguish.
“Please, please forgive me.”
~*~*~
Buffy knew the instant Spike had entered her room. It was like she could sense him, knew his presence—even with her eyes closed—because there was no doubt in her mind that it was him.
He moved so quietly, could practically feel his stare boring into her and she fought the urge to open her eyes. She’d been tired, yes, but she’d asked for him. Asked Willow to bring him back to see her. Time had passed, a long time—or so it seemed to her—and when he didn’t show she figured he wasn’t going to, so she closed her eyes to ward of the tears at his rejection. She was exhausted, completely and utterly, emotionally and physically, and wanted nothing more than sleep. But the doctors didn’t want her to sleep; they were worried about a concussion. So rest, but not sleep.
So she’d closed her eyes.
Buffy could feel him moving closer, knew he was close by the presence of chlorine even without that innate feeling of Spike she felt. He was so close now, close enough she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Her breath caught in her throat for a second, and she waited. Waited to see what he would do.
He withdrew, she felt it.
Then suddenly there was a pressure on the edge of her bed, a small dip of weight being rested on its edge.
Buffy finally opened her eyes, only to see herself looking at the top of Spike’s head.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “So, so sorry.”
Once more her breath caught in her throat. He sounded so lost, so broken. And then she saw his shoulders shaking and realised he was crying. Spike was crying for her, and her own eyes began to mist.
“Please, please forgive me.”
“Oh Spike,” she murmured, lifting her hand to his head.
~*~*~
Spike gasped, his head snapping up instantaneously. “Buffy?”
His eyes found hers and for a moment he didn’t believe what he was seeing. She was awake.
She’s awake!
“Buffy!”
Without thought he cupped her cheeks and crushed his lips to hers. Spike kissed her, filling it with all of the anguish and remorse and love and despair inside of him, pouring it all out. As quickly as it began it stopped, and he began peppering kisses all over her face, her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, her brow.
“Oh, thank god.”
Lips met lips again and this time he felt her kiss him back. And that’s when he tore away, and his quiet sobs of anguish became not-so-quiet sobs of relief.
“Spike,” Buffy murmured, her brow furrowed with concern. “Spike, what’s wrong?”
“’t’s all my fault,” he breathed. “I’m so incredibly sorry.”
Buffy’s eyes widened further when Spike wrapped his arms around her, burying his face against her side, his shoulders quaking ever so lightly.
“I’m sorry Buffy.”
“Shhhh,” Buffy soothed, rubbing her across his back. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“It’s all my fault.”
And that’s when Buffy fully realised the reason for his outburst. Spike blamed himself for what happened to her. No, not just blamed, it was more than that. It was as if he’d charged, tried and convicted himself that’s how palpable his guilt and his grief was. But she couldn’t let him shoulder that, not when she felt she was just as responsible.
“It’s okay, Spike,” she said confidently. “I’m okay. It’s not your fault.”
“YES it is!” Spike declared. “How could you even—”
“If I hadn’t been in the way then—”
“No,” Spike interrupted vehemently. “I should’ve had more sense, shouldn’t have pushed Angel in the first place.”
Buffy wanted to argue, but he was right. It was with realising that she remembered the hurtful things he’d said. She moved her hand from his back, closed her eyes.
Sensing the shift in her mood Spike sat up, hands cupping her face once more. “Open your eyes, baby, please.”
The pet name was a twist in her heart, and Buffy inhaled sharply before relenting.
Spike saw the hurt shimmering in her eyes, and brushed her tears away. It hurt him, physically hurt him, to see her in pain. Even worse, knowing that he was the reason she was hurt in the first place. “You have to know, Buffy, you have to understand how sorry I am. I never, never meant to hurt you. You have to believe me.”
Buffy’s response was a whisper. “I do. I know that.”
When she withdrew from his touch and turned her head it was like a stab in the heart. “But you can’t forgive me,” he whispered. A twisted chuckle broke his lips. “Why should you? I could have killed you.”
That brought her attention back to him, whether he intended it or not. “Stop it, Spike.” Her voice was firm, unmoving. “You didn’t—”
“I put your life in danger!” Spike protested. He stood up and began pacing the room, running a hand repeatedly through his hair. “You could’ve died.”
“But I didn’t,” Buffy pointed out. “And it was an accident.”
Spike shook his head again, and this time Buffy got mad. He could be so stubborn, so thick headed!
“Are you telling me you intended for me to fall into the pool when you pushed Angel?”
“NO!” Spike beseeched. He was at her side immediate, her hand clasped in his. “No, you have to believe me, I never, never meant to hurt you.”
“I do,” Buffy said slowly, gently. “So you see… it was an accident.”
He couldn’t deny her logic, though he wanted to rebel even still. Instead he apologised, again, over and over, until Buffy practically told him to shut up.
“It’s ok, Spike. It’s ok. I forgive you.” She made sure her eyes met his when she said it again, hoping he would believe her. “I forgive you, Spike.”
Buffy watched closely for his reaction. At first he just stared at her, kind of blankly, as if her words didn’t quite sink in. She saw the instant it sunk in and his face began to crumble. Fresh tears pooled and then flooded from his eyes, as he buried his face against her again. The sobs shook his body to the core, his whole body shaking from the force of his anguish. Buffy wrapped her arms around him tightly, trying to calm him.
Spike inhaled a deep, shaky breath, and let go of some of his guilt as he exhaled. He lifted himself from her side, meeting her eyes as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”
Buffy was quiet for a moment, as his words sunk in. He was speaking in present tense, as if they were still together.
It was with a heavy heart she whispered, “We’re not together anymore, Spike.”
His reaction was instant, eyes closing against the truth of her words. “I know.”
It was surprising how that made her feel, hearing him confirm how they weren’t together. When they’d broken up he’d argued fiercely, tried to make her listen to him, tried to get her to open up. And now he was just giving in? Was he so resigned?
Her heart ached to hear him say that. To hear the defeat in his voice. Maybe… No. No, it would never work.
There were too many obstacles, much larger threatening obstacles, between them, for it to ever work between them. There was the issue that Spike didn’t really trust her, and that was one thing Buffy couldn’t just ignore. Maybe…
She’d been through this all before, this doubt. When she realised she cared for Spike and was worried about getting her heart broken. She wondered about his mercurial nature, wondered about how he could switch from being the sweetest guy she knew to the biggest jackass when he felt threatened, and she’d wondered if he was worth it. And at the time she’d decided he was.
What had changed?
When it came down to it, nothing. She still cared for him, still loved him. And she didn’t want to stop loving him. Yes, he’d hurt her feelings. But he’d also treated her with more love and respect than she’d ever known. She’d known what she was getting into when she starting dating him.
So why is that she let doubt eat away at her confidence in their relationship?
Why did she let her father—the threat of her father—come between them?
Trust?
Yes, trust was an issue. But trust could be built.
Angel was right, she should tell him, everything. He deserved to know the truth. It was then that Buffy realised that Spike wasn’t the only one who hadn’t given their relationship a real chance. Spike with his jealousy, her with her belief he wouldn’t stick around. Maybe, maybe if she opened up and told him, explained why she ended things, why she was talking with Angel at the pool, then maybe Spike would understand. If he realised he had no reason to be jealous then maybe he would trust her. Maybe they would have a chance. That maybe gave her the courage she needed to tell him everything.
Only Spike didn’t give her the chance, choosing that precise moment to make a confession of his own. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Spike—”
“I don’t,” he continued. “The way I treated you when we first met. Things I said. It took seein’ you with someone else for me to realise how bloody perfect you are.”
Spike’s forehead scrunched with disbelief. “How stupid is that?”
Buffy tried again. “Listen, Spike—”
“Please Buffy, let me speak. There’s some things I have to… things I need to say,” Spike begged, talking over her again. When Buffy nodded he continued.
“You were right. I didn’t trust you, I didn’t give us a chance.” He hung his head. “You’re nothin’, nothing like Drusilla, or Harmony or any of the girls I’ve dated in the past.”
Buffy flinched without realising.
“So why couldn’t I trust you?” Spike asked.
Spike wasn’t the only one who wanted to know, and Buffy found herself holding her breath. The things he was saying were so eerily close to what she’d been thinking.
“Well, now I know.”
Well….? Buffy’s mind shouted, and she bit her lip to stop herself from repeated the thought out loud.
“It’s because I’ve realised I’m not good enough for you. Never was. You deserve so much, and I’m not the right guy to provide it. We’re not right for each other.” And god if that didn’t hurt to say. Spike swallowed back the insistent urge to take it all back. He’d said once she made him want to be a better man. And she did. But Buffy deserved more than a work in progress.
Buffy had been struck dumb, utterly and completely. She was literally without words. He didn’t just say what she thought he said, did he?
“It never would’ve worked,” Spike continued, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He was thinking of what was best for Buffy, putting her above his own selfish wants. And he knew, without a sliver of doubt, that she deserved more than he could give. “Today proved as much.”
Buffy blinked, slowly, still not believing what she was hearing. Spike thought they wouldn’t have worked because he wasn’t good enough for her? What?
“What?”
Spike stared longingly at Buffy, watching the confusion the marred her brow slowly smooth out as she—no doubt—came to the same understanding. Like she’d said when she had ended things… it was for the best.
How he ever thought he’d be worthy of her he didn’t know. The things he said today and the way he acted were proof enough of his unworthiness. Spike didn’t know how she could even stand to look at him.
He’d keep the promise he made to himself. He’d find a solution to the problem with her father. But he’d stay away.
He owed her that much.
And just as he’d resolved himself to his decision he knew he couldn’t leave, not yet. Not when he had more to say, and without thinking the words bubbled from his mouth.
“I love you, Buffy.”
Buffy gasped, her eyes filling with tears again.
Spike felt his heart wrench at the sight of tears in her eyes. He didn’t want to make her cry, and if he stayed much longer he knew that’s exactly what he’d do. “If you only believe one thing I say, listen to one thing, you have to believe that I love you. More than anything.”
“Spike…”
“That’s why I’m walkin’ away,” Spike interrupted. “Like you asked me to. I’m doin’ what’s best.”
Buffy visibly flinched when he threw her words in her face. It wasn’t said with malice, just simple truth, and she knew he meant what he said.
He was really letting her go.
Buffy was completely and utterly bewildered. She didn’t want Spike to go, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted less. But he shocked her so much with his confession of love followed so closely by a finite statement they were over. She couldn’t get her mouth to work, to say the words she needed to say to convince him they could have a future. She still had her piece to say!
The door to her room opened, and Spike immediately put distance between them.
It was her mom.
Spike cleared his throat, realising he should probably leave before he was forced. The conversation with Mrs Summers earlier had alerted him to the fact she was well aware of the circumstances of their break-up, and the last thing he wanted to do was antagonise her further.
“Be well Buffy,” Spike farewelled.
And then he left.