Chapter 25
January 12, 2006
I needed to hear what Giles said about my father. I really did. It had more effect than when my mom said it, or when Spike called him an asshole, and when even I called him an asshole. I feel like I’ve been waiting for someone aside from the usual suspects to tell me it wasn’t me; it was him. Judith hinted at it, she knew, but she couldn’t exactly say anything.
I feel like Giles planted a seed with his words, and the more I hear them, the more I play them over and over, the more they’ll grow and wrap around my mind like a vine until I’m covered. Until I believe.
********
“Fred, Christ, I’m sorry to be bothering you,” Spike said into his phone. Sitting on his bed in his hotel room, he sat hunched over, cradling his phone to his ear.
“Spike? What’s happening? Where are you?”
“I’m in Boston.”
“Massachusetts?” she sounded stunned.
“Yeah, I caught the first flight out. Buffy, she called, she checked herself into a mental health facility.”
“Oh my,” Fred gasped.
“Yeah, she was thinking about dying and suicide. Fred, I saw her today and she told me. She told me she loved me.”
“And?”
“I told her I loved her, too. She accused me of transferring my feelings for Joyce to her. Then the goddamned nurse came in, and then security, and I had to go.”
“You sound frantic.”
“I am!”
“Spike, calm down. Buffy is in a safe place. How about you, hmm?”
“I’m fine, I’m not thinking crazy thoughts if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m sorry to be calling like this, but I just don’t know what to do. Fred, how do I help her? What if she won’t see me after today? You know I even contemplated checking myself in if it meant I could be there with her.”
“Wow,” Fred gasped.
“What?”
“You really love her…it’s just amazing how much. I didn’t think that kind of love was possible in this day and age. People are so jaded and cynical these days, it’s a rarity you find the kind of love you feel for Buffy.”
Spike sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. “What do I do?”
“Patience and time, Spike, that’s what she needs right now. In the meantime, you need to take care of you. You will be of no help to her if you don’t take care of yourself.”
Spike started to cry. “I just want this nightmare to be over. I’m wishing all sorts of things I shouldn’t be wishing!”
“Like what?”
“I can’t say— they’re horrible!”
“Spike, wishes are just that, wishes. It doesn’t hurt anyone to make a wish.”
“What about that saying, ‘Be careful what you wish for’?”
“And how many times do people actually get what they wish for?”
“True. I wish…”
“Go on.”
“I wish I’d met Buffy first,” he whispered. “I wish I’d known her first. I know I would have loved her, I know it.”
“Perhaps you would have, but it wasn’t the right time for either of you.”
“I don’t fucking care, Fred!” Spike shouted.
“Spike, you can’t change the past or the choices that were made. The fact is, you simply did not know Buffy then. You met her mother first and you did love her, no?”
“I did,” Spike whispered, “In my own way.”
“Spike, you had no way of knowing what would happen. Listen, you want to help Buffy and yourself? Then stop this merry-go-round of self-pity and stop with the ‘should haves’, the ‘could haves’, and the ‘might haves’. All they are going to do is make things worse. What’s done is done and you had no way of knowing. I imagine Buffy is feeling pretty lousy enough right now, the last thing she needs is you bashing on yourself as well. That will only serve to set her back further. If you want to move forward, then accept that yes; you do love Buffy now, yes; she is your ex-wife’s daughter, but no; it is not wrong. Just different. A tad unconventional, but not sick. For heaven’s sake, you’re only eight years apart.”
Taking a shuddering breath, Spike fought to gather control of himself. Settling back against the bed headboard, he wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded. “You’re right,” he said, “You’re right. I’m not going to help either of us if I don’t get it together.”
“You do want to work things out with her, right? You want to be with her, right?”
“I do,” Spike gushed, “I want to be free to love her. I want that so much.”
“Concentrate on that. Think on the future. Buffy needs that now, and so do you.”
Spike took another deep breath, “Yes, you’re right. Thank you.”
“I’m here if you need to talk, Spike, you know that.”
“You might regret telling me that,” he chuckled lightly.
“I haven’t yet, so I doubt I will. What will you do now?”
“I’m going to get some room service, watch some TV, and turn in. I’m feeling pretty exhausted. Tomorrow, I’m going to stop by and see her… or should I wait a day?”
“What do you want to do?”
“See her tomorrow.”
“Then see her tomorrow,” Fred said simply.
“I just hope she lets me,” Spike murmured.
********
“Your stepfather is here.”
Buffy looked up from her notebook to find Bea with a disapproving and annoyed frown on her pudgy features. Buffy set her pen down and stared at Bea, trying to decide what to do.
“Can you not call him that?” Buffy said, biding herself some time while she pondered if she should see him or not.
Bea stood tall. “Isn’t that what he is?”
“Not really. It’s complicated. He’s only eight years older.”
“Look, do you want to see him or not?”
Inhaling, Buffy shook her head. “Not today,” she said, exhaling.
Bea shrugged and walked out of the room and Buffy stared down at her notebook. I will see him. Just not today, she told herself to keep the tears at bay. Picking up her pen, she went back to working on her letter to her mother.
*********
Bundled up, Buffy followed Giles out of the building for their session. As soon as the chill of the air hit her, she felt better. She was out in the world and it wasn’t as scary anymore. It felt good. Course, she was also still in the confines of the hospital, and a chain link fence closed them off from “out there”, so she was out in the world, and yet not. She was in a space outside of reality, just like those magic circles she read about in her Wiccan books.
Lifting her head up to the sky, she smiled and shut her eyes. It was a gray day, as most days in Boston were during the winter, but it felt wonderful anyway. Taking deep breaths, Buffy was oblivious to Giles until he cleared his throat.
She looked at him sheepishly, “Sorry.”
He smiled, “Don’t be. Feels good to be out, no?”
Buffy nodded profusely, “It really does. I feel the negativity inside me just melting away.”
“Good,” Giles smiled and handed her a black Sharpie.
“Okay,” she said, discombobulated.
Giles chuckled and dug in his pocket. “That probably makes no sense without these,” and he produced an assortment of colored balloons and string.
“Yeah, it’s all making sense to me now. Totally,” Buffy said dryly. “What are we doing?”
“You, what are you doing.”
“Okay, what am I doing?”
“You’re going to blow up these balloons and write on them with that Sharpie what you wish to get rid of. Then, we’re going to tie string on them, and release them. One of them though, one you select special, stands for your mother. I want you to read your letter, and then tie it to that balloon you choose for her and release it. Tomorrow, we’ll do the same for your father.”
Buffy gulped and took a deep breath.
“You think you can do it?” Giles asked.
“I can. I just might slobber all over the place.”
Giles smiled, “That’s fine. I’ve seen you, uh, slobber before.”
Buffy giggled and sat down on the park bench just behind Giles. “All right, she said, looking up at him and holding out her hand. “Let’s get to work.”