Part III: Rapprochement
Chapter 13: July 2005
“Come to me now/Lay your hands over me/Even if it is a lie/Say it will be alright/And I shall believe/I’m broken in two/And I know you’re on to me/That I only come home/When I’m so all alone/But I do believe/That not everything is gonna be the way/You think it ought to be/It seems like every time I try to make it right/It all comes down on me/Please say honestly you won’t give up on me/And I shall believe/And I shall believe/Open the door/
And show me your face tonight/I know it’s true/No one heals me like you/And you hold the key/Never again/would I turn away from you/I’m so heavy tonight/But your love is alright/
And I do believe.” ~Sheryl Crow, “I Shall Believe”
“Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask.” Spike looked over at his companion. They had borrowed Nika’s car for this little outing, and were supposed to be staking out the warehouse across the way. While they were both keeping watch, the vampire could tell that Wesley’s full attention wasn’t on the job at hand. In fact, he had a pretty good idea of where the other man’s head was and what question he wanted to ask. The temptation to play with him was overwhelming.
Spike never claimed not to be still a little evil.
“What are your feelings for Danika?” Wesley’s retreat into formality told Spike all he needed to know about the ex-Watcher’s feelings. Not to mention the fact that his heart-rate sped up and his breath caught every time he saw her, and he had a nasty habit of getting all stiff every time Spike showed her some affection, or vice versa.
The only thing restraining Spike from dragging Wesley along on an emotional wild goose chase was the fact that he knew Nika fancied the man—for whatever reason. She’d never forgive him if something he said made Wesley give up before the games had even begun. “I love her,” Spike said sincerely. “But not the way you’re comin’ to.”
Wesley looked over at him sharply. “What are you talking about?”
“You, ya git.” Spike lifted an eyebrow, daring him to deny it. “You’ve been makin’ moon eyes at Nika for months now.”
He opened his mouth to refute it and found he couldn’t. “You noticed?” he asked weakly.
Spike smirked. “Mate, ‘m a vampire. Not hard to notice when a bloke’s got it bad for a girl. An’ in case you’re wonderin’, she fancies you.”
Wesley shook his head. “But you and she—”
“Where are you gettin’ that?” Spike demanded. “We’ve both told you how it is with us. We wouldn’t lie to you ’bout somethin’ like that.”
Spike heard the other man sigh deeply. “It’s just—” ‘History,’ Spike thought, mentally finishing the sentence. They all carried their own baggage, their own scars. Wesley was no exception to the rule. From what he’d let drop, and from the run-in they’d had with his old friends, Wesley was trying hard to outrun his own demons, and he wasn’t always successful.
“She wouldn’t want me,” Wesley finally said. It was said as if it was the gospel truth, and Spike nearly winced. He’d been there, done that, and didn’t want to go back.
The vampire sighed deeply. “Wesley, are you listenin’ to me at all? Told you she fancied you.”
Wesley shook his head. “Danika’s not the type of woman who would ‘fancy’ a rogue demon hunter.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “She would want a man who could give her what she needs.”
“And that would be me?” Spike asked incredulously. “Wesley, the woman wants to get married an’ have babies. I can’t give her that.”
“And I can?” Wesley countered. “Spike, I doubt I’ll make it to forty. Nika deserves someone who can give her more time than that.”
Spike frowned. “Why don’t you get out of this business, mate? Marry, settle down, have kiddies—all those things you humans are supposed to want.”
Now Wesley’s laughter was bitter. “All I ever wanted was to matter, to belong somewhere. I had it all, and then I threw it away.”
Spike was tempted to smack him. The ex-Watcher was just being a stupid ponce now, but at the same time, Spike couldn’t actually blame him. After all, you didn’t see him going after Buffy, trying to make things right. “If I have anythin’ to say about it, you’re goin’ to live to a ripe old age. So stop bein’ such a git an’ ask her out already.”
Wesley turned his head to look out the windshield again. He was obviously not interested in continuing this discussion. Spike growled slightly. “Wesley—”
“Look.” Spike’s eyes went to where Wesley was pointing, and he saw a couple of the vampires they were looking for dragging in a meal. The two of them had been hired to clean up a warehouse before it was renovated. The entire district was being gutted in order to turn it into a series of clubs and restaurants.
The plan—Wesley’s, of course—was to stake out the warehouse first to get an idea of how many vampires were nesting there. So far, they’d seen at least five, but there was a good chance of running into a lot more. Unfortunately, with the arrival of a human victim, the plan got scrapped, and they were duty-bound to go in.
Spike actually preferred it that way. Fists and fangs—nothing but the fight. Wesley wasn’t going to be happy, however. “Guess it’s plan B then, mate.”
Wesley frowned, disgruntled. “I suppose. If we don’t move quickly, all we’ll find is a dead body.”
“Just what I was thinkin’,” Spike replied cheerfully. “Let’s go.” He followed Wesley towards the warehouse, noting with approval the crossbow and battle ax that he carried in either hand. The ex-Watcher would also have stakes in wrist-sheathes, so he was well-armed, and ready for whatever they might find. The vampire would never admit it, but Spike worried about Wesley, especially in situations such as this one.
It was entirely possible for either one of them to suffer a mortal wound any time they went into battle. Wesley, of course, was much more vulnerable than he was. Anything that might kill Spike—save for sunlight and holy water—would work on the human as well, as well as a number of other things. Spike honestly couldn’t remember worrying about a comrade like he did Wesley. Buffy and Dawn were the only humans he had ever cared about, and they were different. (There was Nika, of course, but she didn’t go into battle with him.)
Spike had never thought to find another man he would follow unquestioningly into a fight. After the Slayer, he’d never thought to find someone he trusted implicitly.
The first few minutes of the fight went well enough. There were a half dozen vampires in the large open room, and Wesley dusted two of them immediately with a couple well-placed crossbow bolts. Spike took the head off another one and sent the pointed end of the shaft through another’s chest.
It should have been four down and two to go at that point, but another five vamps came from the catwalk that lined the walls above them. Four of them flanked Spike, and he grinned with the thrill of it. He spun the ax in his hands, showing off a little bit. “Come an’ get it, boys,” he invited.
They advanced on him, and at least two of them were older and a bit smarter about the fight than the ones he’d already dusted. That bit didn’t faze him at all; in fact, Spike preferred his opponents to have a bit of bite to them. It wasn’t any fun otherwise.
At one point Spike had nearly given up hope that he’d ever be able to fight like he used to. He was certain that having a bum leg made him somewhat less of a warrior. Fighting with Wesley had changed all that, since he was responsible for someone else besides himself, and someone else was responsible for him. Having someone to watch his back had freed him to rediscover the joy of the fight.
Up until now, he hadn’t realized that having another person there could inspire terror as well.
Spike dusted his last vampire and turned to check on Wesley, only to find that the other man was down, hand pressed to his stomach. There was already a dark red stain spreading out from under his fingers, and the last vampire standing was going in for the kill, fangs bared.
He didn’t even pause to think—the stake flew from his hand, piercing the vampire’s heart and sending dust floating down over the fallen man. Spike spared a glance for the young man the vampires had grabbed. “Get out of here,” he growled. When the boy stayed frozen, petrified by fear and uncertainty, Spike flashed some fang, yellow eyes glowing in the dim room. “Move. Now.”
This time the boy didn’t wait to be told twice, taking off as fast as he could, hand pressed over the wound in his neck. He was moving swiftly enough so that Spike knew he’d most likely be okay. He was more concerned for Wesley.
Spike knelt by his side, peering at the wound with an expert eye. “‘s bad, Wesley,” he said quietly. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
“No hospital,” Wesley replied hoarsely, but firmly.
Spike shook his head. “But you need—”
“No hospital,” Wesley said, more strongly still. He pushed himself into a sitting position, grunting a little with the pain. “I’m sick to death of hospitals.”
Spike sighed and chewed his lip briefly. “Fine. Nika then. Lucky for you she’s a dab hand at this sort of thing. Not to mention the fact that we have the car tonight.” Pulling off his leather jacket, he took his shirt off, applying pressure to the wound. Once Spike was certain that the man could keep up the pressure, he put his jacket back on over his t-shirt.
He lifted Wesley easily, supporting the other man’s weight even as he guided the both of them out to the car. Making sure Wesley was safely buckled into the passenger side, Spike started up the car and headed for Nika’s house.
It was a good thirty minutes before they got there, Wesley getting paler by the minute. Spike nearly turned the car around and headed for the hospital a couple times, but each time Wesley simply gritted his teeth a little more and insisted that he not even think about it. The vampire didn’t question his insistence, though he did think it a little strange.
When they pulled up in front of Nika’s house, Spike helped the ex-Watcher out, supporting him up to the door. He got Wesley inside and sat him on the couch, going over to Nika’s bedroom door and knocking, a little of the urgency he was feeling coming through in the sound.
Her door opened immediately. She was in her pajamas with her hair loose over her shoulders, obviously getting ready for bed. One look at Spike’s face was all she needed to know it was serious. “What is it?”
“Wesley. He’s hurt.” Spike leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “I wanted to take him to the hospital, but he wouldn’t go. Dunno why.”
Nika followed him out the door, giving Wesley the once-over, and jerking her head at Spike. “Get him into my room. We’ll work on him in there.”
Spike hauled Wesley off the couch as gently as he could manage, supporting the other man into the bedroom and onto the bed. “Spike, get his jacket and shirt off, please,” Nika called from the kitchen where she was digging out first aid supplies.
The vampire didn’t even hesitate. He helped Wesley slip his jacket off, the human letting out a small groan of pain. Other than that Wesley wasn’t making any noise, focusing most of his energies on staying conscious. “Bloody hell,” Spike muttered as he got the ex-Watcher’s shirt off, finally able to see the full extent of the wound.
The man was lucky that vampire had been trying for a slice. Spike didn’t think he would have survived a stab wound to the gut. And only a few millimeters deeper and Wesley’s insides would have been outside. Spike felt his own stomach clench; they had almost lost him.
He looked up as Nika entered the room, plastic tub in hand. Spike could see her blanch slightly, and he’d never seen her pale at the sight of an injury before. She came over to the bed, plastering a smile on her face. “Looks like you got yourself banged up pretty good, cariad.”
“Wasn’t fast enough,” Wesley said, beginning to feel faint from pain and blood loss.
Nika smiled wryly. “Well, let that be a lesson to you then.” As his eyes drooped shut, she gently tapped him on the cheek. “Sorry, Wesley. I need you to stay with me for a minute. Got something for you to drink first, then you can go to sleep, okay?”
Spike helped her support him as she poured her “special” tea down his throat, as much as possible. “Anything I can do?” he asked softly as Wesley slipped into unconsciousness.
Nika nodded, her lips tight. Now that she didn’t have to pretend for Wesley’s sake, the worry on her face was clear to see. “I need to disinfect the wound, and then I’ll need you to help me hold it shut so I can stitch it up.” Her gray eyes met his, and he could read the fear there. “Why didn’t you take him to the hospital, Spike?”
Spike would have flushed in shame if vampires could. “I—he didn’t want to go. Wasn’t sure how bad it was, an’ I thought you could take care of it.”
“I can,” she replied. “But next time I might not be able to. I’ll talk to Wesley about this too, Spike, but I want you to promise me you’ll follow your instincts next time. I don’t care what Wesley Wyndam-Pryce thinks he wants.”
Spike nodded, feeling chastened, and Nika reached over to put a hand on his wrist. “It’s okay. I can take care of him, but I need you to go wash your hands really well.”
While Nika waited for Spike to return, she started using the sterile gauze pads to mop up the wound. The bleeding was sluggish now as the clotting factor did its work. She used another of her nain‘s remedies to disinfect the wound. By that point, Spike was back in the room, clean hands held out tentatively in front of him.
“Good,” Nika said, glancing over at him. “Now I need you to pinch here.” With the vampire’s help, she sewed up the long gash with tiny, precise stitches. After what seemed like hours, Nika finally trimmed the thread, spread a salve along the cut, then taped a sterile dressing over it. She raised her head to see Spike looking at her, exhaustion in his eyes. It always amazed her how much he seemed to care about those around him when it shouldn’t have mattered at all that a man had almost died.
“Come on, Spike,” she said gently, pulling him out of the room. Even though the vampire was covered in blood, he still wore his human guise, and Nika was impressed by his control. The bloodlust should have been unbearable. “You okay?”
He nodded. “‘m sorry, Nika.” His blue eyes were dark with residual fear and guilt. “I never meant to let ‘im get hurt so bad. Wasn’t supposed to go down that way.”
“I know, sweetheart,” she said, guiding him over to the couch and sitting down next to him. “It wasn’t your fault, Spike.”
She could see his jaw tense, a muscle jumping in an uneven rhythm. “Told him I wouldn’t let anything happen to him.” Spike stared at her. “Nika, ‘m sorry. I wanted to keep him safe for you.”
Nika bit her lip, letting the realization that she could have lost Wesley sink in. “Oh, Spike…”
“Shh,” Spike said, drawing her into his arms, feeling her begin to tremble. He accepted his responsibility in the evening’s events. He should have been more careful with Wesley. The ex-Watcher was more fragile than he’d even realized. He would have to watch more carefully in the future, because he’d meant what he said. Spike knew how Nika was beginning to feel about the man, and he vowed that she would not lose another person she loved.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Nika whispered into Spike’s chest. “If I lost either one of you, I think it would kill me.”
Spike ran his hand down her hair in a soothing motion. “No, it wouldn’t,” he contradicted. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known, luv. You’d be alright in the end.”
“Why is this always the way it is?” Nika asked, her voice dangerously close to tears. “Why do I always seem to lose the people I love?”
Spike murmured soft words of encouragement, meaningless phrases meant to comfort as she started to cry. “You’re not goin’ to lose either one of us,” he promised. “I swear to you, I’ll keep him safe if I have to stick him in the trunk next time.”
“And what about you, Spike?” Nika demanded. “You’re important to me too.”
Spike shook his head. “I’m just a vampire, luv. Definitely expendable.”
“You’re not expendable,” Nika said, sounding angry. “And you’re not just anything. You got Wesley out alive tonight, Spike. That means a lot.”
Spike smiled, but his eyes were dark with doubt. “I shouldn’t have let him get hurt in the first place.”
Nika pulled back. “You both know the risks you take every time you go out. It’s as much his fault as yours, if you want to lay blame that badly.” She touched his cheek fondly. “You should get cleaned up. Go watch TV or go to bed. I’ll take care of Wesley.”
“Come an’ get me if you need me?”
“Of course.” Nika watched him head for the basement, his posture a picture of tension. Spike took his self-imposed responsibilities so very seriously. She went back to her bedroom, sitting down on the bed next to Wesley’s still form. Spike had seen what she hadn’t wanted to admit, even to herself. She was beginning to fall head over heels for the ex-Watcher.
Nika reached out to stroke his cheek, running a hand over his hair. Ever since he had helped her deliver the Lidraki baby, she had found herself watching him every chance she got. It was odd. With Danny, it had very much been love at first sight, and their love had grown and changed as they had. With Wesley, it had been a slow progression until she couldn’t quite say when it was she’d first started loving him. One day he had been her friend, and a man she admired. The next day she was watching him as a potential mate.
How she felt about him was unimportant, however. Nika wasn’t sure she could deal with losing another lover. Up until this moment, she had half-thought to approach Wesley with her feelings if he didn’t make a move, and now she wasn’t so sure. She had to be certain she could live with losing him, live with the danger he was constantly putting himself in.
She had thought she would be angry with him for getting hurt, and she was—a little. More than anger, however, she found herself simply grateful that she would have more time with him, even if she didn’t do anything with the opportunity.
Stretching out on the bed next to him, Nika moved closer, allowing herself to trace patterns on his bare chest. Tomorrow they would be back to business as usual. Tomorrow she would pretend that she wasn’t falling in love with him. Tonight she would allow herself to fantasize that this might all be hers someday.
~~~~~
Wesley woke slowly, in an unfamiliar place, his head feeling fuzzy. For a brief moment he wondered if he hadn’t had a few drinks too many with Spike and ended up on his couch.
The warm body next to him disabused him of that notion rather rapidly.
He shifted slightly, feeling the stitches in his stomach pull as he moved, and Wesley stifled a groan. Moving as carefully as possible, he turned to see Nika sleeping next to him, her dark hair fanned across the pillow where it wasn’t hanging in her face. Hesitantly, he reached out to brush a strand away from her mouth. For a moment, Wesley allowed himself to revel in her beauty, but when her eyes fluttered open, he withdrew his hand, watching as she stirred slowly.
“Wesley? How are you feeling?” Nika asked, her voice still slurred from sleep, her gray eyes focusing on him with difficulty.
He managed a smile. “Better than I was last night, I believe.” The events of the previous evening were beginning to come back to him. He remembered that Spike had been terribly worried for him, and had brought him back to Nika’s place when he had refused to go to a hospital. In retrospect, the hospital would have been the wiser choice, but he was sick of spending days in hospital beds. After his last trip there, Wesley had sworn to himself that he’d have to be on the brink of death before going back.
Judging from the look in Nika’s eyes this morning, that brink had been all too close.
Wesley made a decision in that moment. The words he’d spoken to Spike earlier, saying that he would most likely be dead before forty, had taken on an almost prophetic quality. It was highly unlikely that he would die in his own bed at a ripe old age. Even if Nika fancied him, as Spike had insisted, there was no way he could ask her to be with him. He couldn’t put her through another loss. His passing would hurt her because she cared for him; that was her nature. He didn’t have to ask her to love him though. Eventually she’d move on, find some man who was safer.
Wesley could see in her eyes the same look that had been in Virginia’s before she had broken up with him. This time he would avoid that scene by not entering into the relationship in the first place. “I’m glad you could patch me up,” he said lightly. “I hate hospitals.”
Nika thought she had seen a flash of something in his eyes, as though he’d come to some sort of a conclusion. She wanted to ask, but she wasn’t sure where to begin. The last man she had dated was Danny, and that had been nearly fifteen years before. She had no idea how to approach dating as a grown woman.
It didn’t matter, she told herself firmly. It didn’t matter because this relationship wasn’t going anywhere. She had no desire to lose another lover to the arms of death. If Wesley wasn’t in love with her, so much the better, since she wouldn’t have to say no to him.
She honestly didn’t think she could say no.
“You can stay here for as long as you need,” she assured him, and then smiled wickedly, pushing aside the loneliness and fear and worry. Wesley was her very good friend, and that’s what was important. “Of course, you may think the hospital was the lesser of two evils. They want you to leave as quickly as possible. I’m going to sit on you until you’re better, if I have to.”
Their eyes met, and an understanding passed between them. Wesley knew she was pulling back slightly, and he understood. Nika knew he understood, and she was willing to pretend her love for him was of the platonic variety. For now they would both pretend, neither willing to risk the comfort of friendship for something greater.
~~~~~
Spike sat on his bed, still in his blood-covered clothing. He had almost lost Wesley tonight, and that sense of teetering on the brink brought back memories.
Memories he would have rather pretended didn’t exist.
Failure was not a new companion, of course. There had been his failure as a human being in general, his failure as a vampire to be as evil as Angelus. He had failed to keep Drusilla and failed to kill his third Slayer. But right now he was remembering an early morning on a shaky tower, the sick realization that Doc was going to cut Dawn, and the utter despair when he realized that Buffy had paid for his mistake with her life.
Oh, Spike knew that Dawn hadn’t blamed him. He didn’t even think that Buffy had truly believed him to be responsible for her death, but he felt it all the same. If vampires weren’t supposed to feel guilt, Spike couldn’t put a name to this emotion that coursed through him, that had sent him the daydreams every day that she was gone—147 ways to make things right. He’d said the 148th day didn’t count, but that wasn’t precisely true, as he’d already thought of a new way to save her by the time he saw her coming down the stairs that night.
Tonight he felt the failure again, running over and over in his head how he might have prevented Wesley from getting hurt. Spike knew he should have stayed closer, shouldn’t have gotten so caught up in the fight. These humans were so frail…
Of its own accord, his hand wandered over to the drawer in the bedside table, pulling out a thick stack of letters. Nika and Wesley knew about them—how could they not, when he was constantly crowing about Dawn’t successes, like a proud older brother? They were his security blanket, though, and Spike was willing to bet that neither of his friends knew that there were days when only flimsy pieces of paper stood between him and despondency.
Spike still liked to hold on to the illusion that something remained of the Big Bad.
He pulled out the letter from the top of the pile, wanting to find some way to wash the taste of guilt and failure out of his mouth. Dawn had comforted him by her presence that infinitely long summer, just as he had comforted her with his. Now, over the distance, she comforted him with her words, though Spike was sure she didn’t know it.
June 21, 2005
Hey Spike,
It’s so cool, you’re never going to believe it. I got in to UCLA! I know you told me not to worry about you, to go wherever I wanted, but they’re practically paying me to go there, so I have a really good excuse. Plus, I’ll be close to you again, and that will be nice.
My sister is driving me crazy. I think she believed I was going to stay in town for college and live at home to save money. Half the time she’s totally absorbed in her own life and the other half of the time she’s asking me if I wouldn’t want to stay here instead. I really don’t get her sometimes. I’m ready to be out of this town though, and this way I won’t be completely alone in the big city.
That’s about it. I’ve got to get to work. I need some new parts for the truck, so there will be no slacking. Love you,
Dawn
Spike swallowed as he put the letter away. He’d already responded, congratulating her on her scholarship, but he hadn’t invited her to see him. He wasn’t quite sure that it was a good idea. Thinking back, he could understand why Buffy didn’t want Dawn to hang around him. He was a bad influence, and he was a vampire as well. On the other hand, he ached to see her again in a way that was unfamiliar.
Missing Dawn was a pain that held no regret, no real hurt. Save for that night on the tower, he’d done his best by her, and she by him. Their love was one of little complication or complexity. It might not be easily understood by others, but it was real.
Spike went backwards through the pile, reading the stack letter by letter, reminding himself that something good might come out of failure, that it didn’t have to mean the end of things. And when he finally fell asleep, it was with a sheet of girlish stationary clutched tightly in his hand.