Chapter 5: Split in Two
“Hope dangles on a string/Like slow-spinning redemption/Winding in and winding out/The shine of it has caught my eye/…And I am captivated/I am vindicated/I am selfish/I am wrong/I am right, I swear I’m right/I swear I knew it all along/And I am flawed/But I am cleaning up so well/And I’m seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself…” ~Dashboard Confessional, “Vindicated”
Spike wasn’t one to think much about heaven or hell, though he did have his moments. There were occasions when he wondered if a human could be held accountable for the actions of the vampire that he was, no matter how much guilt he actually felt. He still struggled with nightmares, with guilt, with a deep fear of his own mortality, not least because he had no idea what might happen to him after death. William had been a good man, and Spike liked to think he was a good man presently, but there was at least a hundred years of mayhem and murder separating those two time periods.
Whatever his concerns with heaven and hell might be, Spike was certain of purgatory’s existence. He was equally sure that it could be found in Xander Harris’s basement apartment.
As bad as it was for Harris, it was terribly uncomfortable for the others-trying to ignore something that was horribly wrong was always difficult. Drunk, argumentative parents, ceiling tile dust floating down, terrible smells-the combination made for a very purgatory-like experience.
Buffy was more engrossed in her textbook than in the movie, and Spike couldn’t exactly blame her. Badly dubbed Kung Fu wasn’t the most riveting of material, though he couldn’t help but have some fun silently critiquing the fight scenes.
“Hey, Buff, why don’t you give the studying a rest?” Xander asked, looking over at the Slayer. “You’re missing some quality entertainment.”
Spike raised an eyebrow when he realized that Buffy hadn’t even heard. “You know, luv,” he said conversationally, “Anya an’ I have been talkin’ an’ we’re thinkin’ of havin’ an orgy with the four of us after the film.”
That got her attention. “Spike! You were not!”
He laughed. “Sorry, Buffy, but we were thinkin’ you’ve been buried in dry an’ dusty tomes for too long.”
Buffy rolled her eyes at him, even as Anya said, “That might be fun, but I don’t like sharing Xander.”
“Good thing,” Xander said, giving Spike a dirty look. “You’ll give her bad ideas,” he mouthed, clearly enough for the ex-vampire to catch his drift.
“Well, I guess I’ve had enough of gore and violence with the Crusades. Oh, fighting,” Buffy said, setting aside the heavy book. There was a moment of quiet as everyone focused on the movie, and then Buffy snorted. “Look, see, that’s all wrong. First you take out the big guy and then you go for the little ones.”
Spike grunted his agreement. “Think he should’ve used a flyin’ kick there.”
“No kidding!” Buffy exclaimed. “Oh! See, now he does the flying kick.”
“After he gets his ass thrown around,” Spike added.
Xander gave the both of them dirty looks. “Okay, for those of us not experts in the field of hand to hand combat, can we just watch the show?”
“Hey, you would complain if we were watching an army movie and they were saluting all backwards,” Buffy replied, but she settled back down against the couch, squarely between Spike’s knees.
Spike couldn’t resist playing with the loose ends of her hair where it came out of her clip, and she sighed in contentment as he began to rub her temples. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike watched as Xander cast a considering look in his direction and then proceeded to try and rub Anya’s temples.
“Xander!” Anya protested, moving her head away. “I just did my hair.”
Xander pulled his hands back sheepishly, and Spike cleared his throat meaningfully, looking down at Anya’s shoulders. It took the younger man a moment, but he finally got the hint and began to rub the ex-demon’s shoulders. Anya rewarded him with a sigh that was the twin of Buffy’s.
It wasn’t long afterwards when the older Harrises got home, their drunken brawling easily heard though the slowly disintegrating ceiling tiles. In situations like these, Spike wondered if it was just the newly human who had trouble responding. Did you ignore it, or offer comfort, or even possibly suggest that it was amazing that Xander had turned out quite as well as he had? Buffy wasn’t saying anything, and Anya was just renewing her sympathetic grip on her boyfriend’s leg, so Spike decided it would be better if he kept his mouth shut too. They all went back to watching the movie, but a pall had been cast over the gathering.
Spike couldn’t help but pull Xander aside at the end of the evening as he and Buffy were leaving, however. “You know, Harris,” he began awkwardly.
“Just forget it,” Xander said, his eyes holding something close to shame.
Spike shook his head. “I was just sayin’-you ever want to get out of here for an evening, I’ve got a couch you can crash on. Just in case, yeah?”
Xander gave him a half-smile. “Thanks, man. I appreciate the thought.”
They both knew that it was an empty gesture-Xander wasn’t going to take Spike up on his offer any time in the near (or distant) future. The gesture had been made, however, and the thought behind it was appreciated. It was an acknowledgement of an embarrassing situation without an attempt to shame.
“Yeah, well, ‘ve been in worse livin’ situations,” Spike said off-handedly. “You need a different one, you know where to find me.”
Xander nodded. “Yeah, though I think I’m going to look for my own place. It’s time to get out of here.”
~~~~~
Buffy stopped by to see him during his lunch break at the gallery to let him know how Xander’s apartment search had gone. Spike winced in sympathy as she described Xander’s outfit, the reaction of the agent, and his disagreement with Anya. “Don’t blame either one of them,” Spike said regretfully. “That basement is pretty god-awful.”
She’d nodded, her own sympathy clear on her face. “I feel bad, but there really isn’t anything we can do about it.”
“No, I reckon Harris’ll have to get it figured out on his own,” Spike agreed. The Slayer called a couple hours later to ask him to come by the Magic Box after he was done at the gallery. “Giles was attacked,” she explained. “We’re going to try and hunt the demon down tonight if you’re up for it.”
“I’m always up for it, Slayer,” he said, managing to leer with his voice alone.
She giggled on the other end, then tried to sound disapproving. “Spike! I really hope my mother isn’t anywhere around.”
As Joyce had just appeared in the doorway of the office, Spike thought it was best if he was honest. “She’s just behind me, luv.”
“Spike!” Now Buffy did sound completely disapproving. “What time am I going to see you?”
“Around sixish,” he assured her, hanging up the phone.
Joyce raised an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know?”
“Some demon came after Giles. The Slayer just wanted to be sure I was willin’ to go hunting with her tonight,” Spike said easily.
She smiled slightly, deciding to let him off the hook. “Is Rupert okay?”
“Think so,” Spike replied. “Buffy didn’t say he’d been hurt, so I imagine he’s just fine.” He lifted an eloquent eyebrow. “Why? You want to run over there and check on him?”
Joyce drew herself up. “No. I don’t think there’s a need for that. I’m sure Rupert and I will see each other soon enough.” At the mischievous look on Spike’s face, she frowned. “And no comments, William.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, mum,” he promised, grinning, though his expression quickly faded to one of concern as Joyce winced. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “It’s just a headache, probably brought on by my squabbling daughters.”
Spike stood, taking her by the arms and gently steering her towards his chair. “Joyce, I don’t normally pull rank like this, but I think you should see the doc. ‘ve been around a while.”
When she looked like she was about to protest, he put up his hand. “For me? Please?”
The coaxing expression he wore was irresistible, and Spike knew it. He watched as Joyce crumbled. “I’ll make an appointment to see the doctor.”
“Ta,” he said simply. “Now, why don’t you have a nice rest back here an’ I’ll take care of the front for a while?”
~~~~~
“So what are we doin’ here again?” Spike asked dubiously as they wandered through the junkyard.
Xander swung the baseball bat he was carrying at the air. “Giles said that this Toth-guy had a certain olfactory presence.”
“Didn’t realize you got that close, Rupert,” Spike commented.
“Yes, well, you missed my dramatic reenactment,” was his dry response. “I did manage to chase him off with a statue of a fertility goddess.”
Willow smiled. “Yeah, Oofdar has some good heft to her.”
“Goddess of childbearing?” Spike mused. “Yeah, nice wide hips.”
Buffy smacked him across the chest. “Quit it.”
He grinned. “Well, it’s true.”
She gave him a mock dirty look. “So where is this Toth, Giles?”
“Is he a big guy, skin all hangin’ off, with glowing teeth?” Spike asked conversationally, looking off into the distance.
“Why, yes,” Giles replied.
“Then he’s comin’ this way,” Spike commented.
Everyone turned to look. Toth was still about ten yards away, but Buffy wasn’t taking any chances. “Okay, everyone just back up.”
“Slayer!” Toth called, pointing his stick and firing.
Everyone scattered as the shot hit a pile of junk, sending shards flying. “Bloody hell!” Spike cursed, as a piece of glass cut his cheek.
“Spike? You okay?” Buffy called, glancing over at him worriedly.
He wiped away a smear of blood. “‘m fine,” he growled, his eyes widening as he saw Toth readying another blast. “Buffy!”
Spike leaped to intercept the bolt of light at the same time as Xander, and it hit them simultaneously, sending both of them sprawling in the garbage. Buffy was at Spike’s side in an instant. “Are you okay?”
“‘m fine,” he muttered, pushing himself off the ground with some effort and brushing himself off. “Looks like Xander got the worst of it.”
Giles and Willow were pulling the other man to his feet. “I’m good,” Xander insisted, his voice hitching as he tried to catch his breath. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”
“We’d better get you home,” Giles said. “Buffy, if you want to be sure Spike makes it back, I can take care of Xander.”
“That would be great, Giles. I’ll see you tomorrow, Will,” Buffy replied, slipping one arm around Spike’s waist. He seemed to be walking fairly well under his own power, but the sight of him flying through the air had scared her. There were still times when she forgot how fragile Spike really was as a human. Sure, he had a heartbeat, but he was still so capable that it shocked her to realize how easily she could lose him.
They walked in silence for a while before Buffy spoke. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“‘m fine, luv,” he assured her. “Bit banged up, but not horribly so.”
Buffy made a face. “Well, you still have that bruise from that linebacker-vampire, and now you’ve been tossed around a junkyard. You need to be more careful, Spike.”
“And is that concern I hear, Slayer?” he teased. “Someone might get the wrong impression that you’re actually in love with me.”
“I am, you dork,” she said rolling her eyes. “How many times do you have to hear it?”
Spike’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, it’s not that I need to hear it, luv. I want you to show me.”
Buffy’s eyes widened. She and Spike had a very healthy sex life. It was good, and at times even amazing, but she couldn’t remember hearing quite this tone in his voice before. He sounded-different. “And just what would I need to do to show you?”
Spike’s whispered suggestion was decidedly erotic and more graphic than she’d even thought he knew. Granted, he had been a vampire, but still-It looked like it was going to be an interesting evening.
They managed to make it to Spike’s apartment without any indecent exposure, although they might have been arrested for roving hands, if that was a crime. No sooner was she inside, however, than Spike had her up against the wall, plundering her mouth.
Buffy had never thought “plundering” was a phrase that you could use outside romance novels, but this was definitely plundering, and his hands were going places that had her very hot and bothered, and he was whispering things that enflamed her further.
“Spike-“
“I want you.” It was said in almost a growl, and Buffy wanted him too. There was a raw hunger in his eyes that would have been frightening in its intensity except that she felt it too. It was all “want, take, have” and it was okay because he was her boyfriend. She could take this-she could take him, and Buffy knew Spike was feeling the same way.
“Want you too,” she replied, already breathing heavily, her hands beginning to fumble at his clothes.
They never made it to the bed that night.
~~~~~
Spike had watched them leave, held captive by his fear and indecision. He could see himself; he could see Xander. But he and Xander were still there amid the garbage, and Buffy should have taken him along. She should have known.
Why didn’t she know that he wasn’t with her?
It was him, he was sure of it. Sure of it. He was incomplete; he was halved. He was overwhelmed by guilt and fear and-oh, no, please, God, no-he was dying. He was going to die.
Xander could die.
With that thought, Spike hunched closer to the other man’s still form and settled down to watch over him. He couldn’t do much right, but he could do this. He could watch over Buffy’s friend. That was his job. He could hold himself together for that long.
Spike just wasn’t sure that he could hold himself together for much longer than that.
~~~~~
Xander woke up slowly with a stench in his nostrils. “Anya? Did you try using the hot plate again?”
When he didn’t get a response, he blinked, realizing that it was much too bright for his basement apartment. In fact, he wasn’t in his basement, or his bed, but rather was in the junkyard, surrounded by-
“He’s awake. Told you he’d wake up. Knew he’d be okay. Protected him.” A whimper. “Blood won’t come off.”
Xander knew that voice. He struggled into a sitting position slowly and looked over to find Spike sitting close by, huddled into a ball. “Hey, Spike? What are we still doing in the junkyard?”
“They left with us last night.” Spike kept his eyes on his hands, where he was picking at the skin, making it bleed.
Xander had no clue what the ex-vampire’s problem was, but he pulled Spike’s hands away, preventing him from doing anymore damage to himself. “Spike, stop it. There isn’t any blood.”
There wasn’t. As far as Xander could see, Spike was unhurt, at least physically. Obviously, not all was right with him mentally, though. “It’s all over,” the ex-vampire muttered. “Never come out. Never get clean.” He started scrubbing at his hands again, and again Xander stopped him.
“Okay, Spike, focus. Last night, what happened?”
A little sense seemed to come back into his eyes. “Buffy-an’ the others-they left with us. I stayed because you were hurt.”
“What do you mean they left with ‘us’?” Xander asked. “We’re right here.”
Spike shook his head. “We left with them.”
Xander sighed. He wasn’t going to get anywhere this way. Something traumatic had happened, and Spike wasn’t making any sense at all. “Okay. I guess we need to find Buffy then. She’s definitely going to want to know her boyfriend spent the night in the dump.”
Spike shook his head violently. “No! I can’t-can’t see Buffy. N-not like this.”
“Spike,” Xander began, then gave up with a sigh. It was apparent that the other man was trying his best to pull himself together because he didn’t want Buffy notified. In some ways, Xander could relate. There were definitely times when he preferred to get himself out of trouble, rather than going to Buffy for help. “Do you have your keys?”
Spike patted his pockets then shook his head silently. Xander could tell that he was hanging on for dear life, and if he were honest, he wasn’t doing that much better. It was hard to believe that the gang would go off and leave them in the dump. More confusing was Spike’s insistence that they hadn’t. It just didn’t make any sense.
“Look, why don’t we go back to my place? We’ll get cleaned up, I’ll find something for you to wear, and then we can go find Buffy,” Xander suggested. “Maybe you’ll feel better.”
Spike nodded, and they set off for Xander’s apartment. Of course, once they got there, Xander could see immediately what Spike had meant about the others leaving “with them.” The worst of it was that his double looked better than he usually did. “Spike? Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
Spike obediently peeked through the window. “That’s the one of you they left with last night.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Xander muttered. “But that’s not me. I’m me.” He sat back on his heels. “Okay, we can’t stay here. I’ve got to call Buffy.” He watched as Spike’s expression twisted into one of-fear? “Spike, Buffy’s not going to be mad at us. She’s the Slayer. She’ll fix it.”
Spike didn’t look very happy. “She took the other me home.”
“Jumping Jehosaphat.” Xander realized Spike was right. Spike’s double probably already had his clutches in the Slayer. In fact, if she saw this Spike, she might hurt him, and Xander was certain that this Spike was not up to taking any punishment right now. “I’ll call Willow.”
Spike shook his head. “C-call T-t-tara.”
Xander frowned. He didn’t know Willow’s girlfriend well enough to ask her to bail him out of a bind, but Spike did have a point. Tara had been one of the ones to recognize that Buffy and Faith had switched bodies the previous year, and Willow was his oldest friend. If anyone knew which one of him was the real one, she would.
That really was his plan-call Willow, have her call Tara, and explain the situation. Then, just as he was making the call, his double walked by, and Xander badly wanted to know what his evil twin had planned. “Hello?”
Willow’s voice on the other end of the line had him dithering. To follow, or not to follow? He glanced over at Spike, who was quietly scrubbing at his hands again, muttering about blood. Making a quick decision, Xander spoke into the phone. “Willow, it’s me. I’m outside the Espresso Pump with Spike, and he’s in a bad way. You need to grab Tara and come get him.”
“Xander?” Willow sounded confused. “Wait, what are you talking about? Where are you?”
“I’ve got to take care of something,” he said vaguely. “But Spike needs you.” He hung up the handset and turned to Spike. “Hey, Spike? Stay here, okay? Willow and Tara are going to come pick you up. I’ve gotta go.”
A flare of alarm went up in Spike’s eyes. “W-where?”
“I’ve gotta follow him,” Xander said desperately, looking over his shoulder at the rapidly disappearing doppelganger. It looked like he was heading towards the construction site, and Xander just had to know what was going on. “Please just stay here. I’ll catch up with you later!” he called as he jogged off, squelching the feeling of guilt. Willow would take care of this damaged Spike. She and Tara would know what to do much better than he did. He just had to figure out where his double was going.
He sighed. Yeah, like that made sense.