Chapter 17: Absence of Fear
“Inside my skin there is this space/It twists and turns/It bleeds and aches/Inside my heart there’s an empty room/It’s waiting for lightning/It’s waiting for you/And I am wanting/ And I am needing you here/Inside the absence of fear…there is this hunger/This restlessness inside of me/And it knows that you’re no stranger/you’re my gravity/My hands will adore you through all darkness aim/They will lay you out in moonlight/And reinvent your name/For I am wanting you/And I am needing you here…” ~Jewel, “Absence of Fear”
“Someone should talk to her.”
Anya stared at Xander. “And I suppose that someone is you?”
“I am her best friend, Anya,” he replied. “This is Willow we’re talking about. If she knew what happened, she’d want to help. She’d be the first one here.”
“She’s the reason Dawn’s in trouble in the first place,” Anya replied. “Buffy doesn’t want her involved.”
“Buffy’s still mad that Willow did the resurrection spell.” Xander’s jaw was set stubbornly. “I’m sure Willow will—”
“Curse Spike again?” Anya suggested sweetly. “Or maybe she’ll do a spell on Buffy to make her feel better. Or possibly do a spell on us so we’ll be happy again. No, Xander. You aren’t talking to her.”
“You can’t stop me.” He stood. ” Willow loves Dawn.”
“And if you love Dawn or Buffy, you’ll sit down and wait for them,” she said firmly. “Buffy said she didn’t want Willow involved. We need to respect her wishes.”
Xander sat back down, Anya’s words beginning to penetrate his brain, which was still not operating up to full capacity. He was torn. Xander just couldn’t believe that Willow meant any real harm. At the same time, if what Anya was telling him was true, it didn’t matter what Willow ‘s intentions had been. Dawn could be seriously hurt or killed—Buffy too.
However he might feel about the curse she’d apparently placed on Spike, Anya was right. If Buffy didn’t want Willow involved in the rescue attempt, she shouldn’t be involved.
Xander looked over at her. “What happened, An ?”
He probably wouldn’t have asked her that question if he hadn’t been a lot hung over and horribly tired. Anya wasn’t the person he turned to for answers to those sorts of questions. She was the only one present, the only one he could ask under the circumstances. Xander was beginning to wonder if she wasn’t the only person he had left.
Only, he didn’t really have Anya anymore, either.
Anya looked at him, compassion in her eyes. She still loved him. Call her crazy, but she did. On the other hand, Anya wasn’t so sure that she was going to marry him at this point. Xander wasn’t ready for her.
Maybe she wasn’t quite ready for him, either.
“I don’t know, Xander.”
There was really nothing more to say, and so they sat and waited in an uncomfortable silence.
~~~~~
Buffy would have preferred to throw Rack out the window. She’d been able to spare a moment to look at Dawn, but no more than that. She wanted Rack. She wanted his head on a pike, to be precise.
Tara had been right, though. Rack was a coward. He saw her coming and jumped, the glass in the window shattering before he even hit it, the door to the waiting room banging shut behind them, as if he thought he could lock Dawn in. As if he thought he had even a chance of surviving this confrontation. One thing was for sure—he didn’t want to face the Slayer.
Well, Buffy would just have to chase him down.
She didn’t stop to wait for Tara , figuring that the other girl would do her best to keep up. It was pure luck on her part that Rack chose the wrong alley to run down, finding a dead end, rather than the escape route he’d been hoping for. Buffy skidded to a stop in front of him, and Rack raised his hands, green energy beginning to glow. “Good thing I had a chance to get charged up.”
Buffy dropped when she saw the ball of energy come at her, gasping as the heat made her skin prickle. She launched herself at him from the ground, head-butting Rack in the stomach. She could hear the breath leaving his body, and she followed up her advantage with a fist to his face, knocking him down.
Rack recovered too quickly—much more quickly than a human should have been able to ¾ his laughter echoing in her ears and grating on her nerves. “Your sister was so sweet,” he gloated. “So pure. Best thing I’ve tasted in years.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Buffy said, her anger rising. “I’m going to hurt you so bad—”
Tara ‘s shouted warning had Buffy throwing herself to one side, and Rack’s bolt of energy zinged harmlessly by. The Slayer could hear Tara chanting something in the background, but she wasn’t paying much attention to that. She could see Rack bring his hands up again, but this time the energy seemed to fizzle, and Buffy rushed him, throwing him head-first into the alley wall.
The crack of bone told her everything she needed to know.
Buffy just wished Rack hadn’t died so quickly.
~~~~~
Spike sat with Dawn on the couch, rocking her slowly. He’d done this for Drusilla, when the visions got bad, so it wasn’t as though he didn’t have experience with this sort of thing. It tore at him, though, to see Dawn so broken. She kept crying, asking him not to tell anyone. Spike had no idea what she was referring to—what she didn’t want told.
All he could do was hold her and rock her, making promises that he didn’t know could be kept.
He still wasn’t sure what Rack had done to her. He could guess, of course. Rack was a power leech, so it was likely that he’d sucked up some of the power that was still inherent in Dawn’s blood from her being the Key. The difference between Dawn and Rack’s usual clientele was that his customers gave him tacit permission to take their power in exchange for the high he gave them. It was black stuff—nasty stuff.
Rack’s clients asked for it, but Dawn was an innocent.
Spike had done virtually the same thing to girls just like Dawn. He’d taken without asking, had stolen their innocence and left death in his wake. Of course, Spike didn’t often leave them alive to tell the tale, but those girls had left people behind. People like him, and Buffy, who would be devastated if anything happened to Dawn.
This was why vampires weren’t meant to spend time with humans, to make friends with them, to become close to them. It forced him to think about them as something other than food—something other than prey.
There was no going back now. Spike knew he’d changed. When he’d been testing the chip out—after it had stopped working on Buffy—when he’d cornered that girl in the alley, Spike hadn’t really wanted to hurt her. He’d wanted the blood. He had wanted the taste, had craved the hot rush, the sense of power—but he hadn’t wanted her dead.
It had been a relief when the chip prevented him from harming the girl.
Now, though, Spike knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—go back to what he had been . It wasn’t because of his love for Buffy, or because she’d dust him. It was because he hated the way he felt, holding Dawn in his arms, helpless to do anything other than utter meaningless words of comfort.
It was because the way Spike felt right then—he might wish it on his worst enemy, but not a stranger.
Humans weren’t just happy meals on legs anymore. Spike wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.
Dawn’s sobs were slowing into deep, hitching breaths, her hands still clutching his t-shirt. “Is he dead?”
“Your sister was goin ‘ to do the job,” he replied softly. “An’ if she doesn’t, I swear to you I’ll take him out, even if it kills me.”
“He wasn’t going to let me go,” she whispered. “He was just going to keep—”
“Hush now,” Spike soothed. “You know we wouldn’t have let that happen. Should have been there sooner, Dawn. ‘ m sorry. Failed again, and—”
“No.” Dawn met his eyes for the first time. “You saved me. You always do. You always keep your promises, Spike.”
“You know it.” Spike stroked her hair out of her face. “I will always come for you.”
And he held her until she finally fell asleep.
~~~~~
The body was easy enough to dispose of. Buffy simply hauled Rack’s still form back to the house, depositing it in the waiting room. She hoped that the cops wouldn’t look too hard into his death. Of course, given the fact that it was Sunnydale, the Slayer knew that the cops didn’t often scrutinize strange deaths, and no one was likely raise a fuss about Rack.
Unless it was one of his junkies, but they probably wouldn’t carry much weight.
“Are you okay, Buffy?” Tara asked quietly, once they were well away from the now-visible house.
Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know. I—I don’t know what he did to Dawn, and I don’t know if he would have come after her again. I feel like I had to do it, but—”
“You did what you had to do,” Tara assured her. “Rack—the world is probably better off without him.”
“He was still human,” Buffy murmured. “I never thought—” She fell silent. “I have to get back to the house, make sure Dawn is okay.”
They were across from the Magic Box, and Buffy looked across the street through the lit window. She could see Xander and Anya moving around inside, and she wondered if they’d made up yet. “I’ll let them know how everything turned out,” Tara said. “Do you want me to come by tomorrow?”
“That would be great,” Buffy replied. “I’d really appreciate it.”
Tara hugged her, feeling Buffy’s arms tighten around her. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” When Buffy pulled back, her eyes met Tara ‘s, and the understanding that she saw in the other girl’s eyes allowed the Slayer to smile, however briefly.
Buffy hurried home, feeling a flash of terror when she entered the house, not seeing or hearing either Spike or Dawn right away. What if something had gotten to Spike while he was getting Dawn home?
A noise from the second floor caught her attention, and Buffy went upstairs. Spike was sitting on the edge of Dawn’s bed, watching the sleeping girl with haunted eyes.
“Spike?”
His head came up and he looked over at her. Buffy belatedly remembered that she wouldn’t be able to hear him, as she entered the bedroom, and leaned over her sister. She could see the marks of tears on Dawn’s face, and Buffy touched her cheek. Being careful not to wake her, Buffy removed the necklace, then put it on.
She held her hand out to him. After a moment’s hesitation, Spike took her hand, following her out of the room and into Buffy’s bedroom. “Did you have any trouble?”
He shook his head. “No. I kept out of sight as much as possible on the way back here.”
“How is she?” Buffy asked.
Spike shook his head. “Dunno, Buffy. Whatever he did…”
“What did he do?” Buffy demanded.
“Couldn’t get a clear answer on that. She just—she was hysterical for a while, cryin ‘ and such. When she finally calmed down a bit, she went to sleep. Figured it was for the best.”
“It probably was,” Buffy agreed.
“Is he dead?” Spike asked, his eyes blazing. “If he’s not—”
“He’s dead.” Buffy turned away, walking over to the window. “I wanted to kill him, Spike, but—it was mostly an accident, you know?”
“Yeah. Happens that way in the middle of a fight sometimes.”
Buffy could sense him standing just behind her, but there was a distance there that wasn’t just physical. “I told my mom I would take care of her, Spike. I should have done something. I knew that Rack might—”
Spike grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Wasn’t your fault, Buffy. I told you I’d protect her. I—”
“This wasn’t your fault, Spike. You can’t be with her all the time.”
“Neither can you,” he replied, angrily.
Buffy pulled his head down, kissing him roughly, feeling his hands begin to jerk her shirt up. She pushed him away, ignoring his muffled protest, shoving him back towards the bed. Buffy was on top of him immediately, impatiently pushing his t-shirt up.
Spike ignored her fumbling hands, pausing to pull it off in one smooth motion, then doing the same for hers. The rest of their clothing followed in short order, their hands and mouths desperate, rough.
It was over quickly, but Buffy still clutched at him, unwilling to let him go. His hands ran soothing circles over her back. They were both silent, the darkness of the bedroom a warm cocoon.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know.” Buffy sighed. “I know,” she repeated. “What am I going to do about Willow , Spike?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“Because you’re the one she hurt.”
Spike grimaced. “I’d say that’d be Dawn. I’ll be fine.”
“You also have good ideas on occasion,” Buffy said.
“Just on occasion?”
“I’m not going to answer that.”
The silence that fell was almost comforting. “I don’t know, luv. I’d suggest doin ‘ something to get through to her. Make her leave us alone.”
“Maybe Giles will help,” Buffy said. “He’s supposed to call Anya back with the translation for that ritual.”
Spike snorted. “More like he’s goin ‘ to tell me to go to hell.”
“Then you can translate it,” Buffy suggested sweetly.
“You do realize he’s goin ‘ to be on the next flight over, don’t you?”
Buffy pressed a kiss to his chest, which was warm with borrowed heat. “Then I’ll tell him what I’ve told everyone else up ’til now.”
“And that is?”
“That you’re mine.”
There was a long pause. “What about you, Buffy? Are you my girl?”
She raised her head to meet his eyes. “Yeah, Spike. I’m your girl.”
~~~~~
Tara entered the shop, watching as both Xander and Anya swung to face her. She found it odd that she was the one with news, the one who had been off on the mission. Usually, it was Willow and Xander providing Buffy’s backup, with Spike as the muscle. This time, Tara had been the one to be in the middle of the action.
It had been scary, but she felt a sense of accomplishment that lifted her spirits. She’d managed to keep Rack from summoning more power so Buffy could engage him.
“How is Dawn?” Anya asked immediately.
“I’m not sure,” Tara admitted. “Buffy and I took care of Rack, and Spike got Dawn home. I’m supposed to go by tomorrow.”
“Buffy’s okay, then?” Xander asked.
Tara nodded. “She’s fine.”
“What’s going on with Willow , Tara ?” Xander demanded. “Has anyone spoken to her?”
“I have,” Tara said quietly. “She’s not ready to listen to reason.”
“About Spike?” Xander asked. “Why should she? Buffy’s—”
“Buffy is making the best choice she knows how to make,” Tara stated firmly. “I think he’s changed.”
Xander grimaced. “You can say that because Spike never tried to kill you.”
“He hasn’t tried to kill any of us for a long time,” Anya said sharply. “And let me remind you that I was all set to kill you for Cordelia.”
That shut Xander up fairly quickly.
The phone rang, cutting off the rest of the conversation. Anya picked it up, greeting Giles by name. “Spike and Buffy got her out of there,” she replied to his immediate question. “I don’t know. We haven’t seen them yet.” She paused. “Xander can pick you up. See you tomorrow.”
“Giles is coming back?” Xander asked once Anya hung up the phone.
Anya nodded. “He’ll be here tomorrow, with the translation for the spell.”
“That’s good.” Tara sighed. “This whole thing is getting old.”
“I still don’t see why not hearing Spike could be a bad thing,” Xander muttered.
“Well, next time Spike tells you to duck before some huge vampire brains you, I’ll make sure he keeps his mouth shut,” Anya said sweetly, referring to a particular episode from the summer.
Tara had to hide a smug grin.