Chapter 18: Give Me Strength
“Sitting in the rain alone/looking at a place that’s gone/boarded up my memories/but something’s drawn me here again and I/I cannot leave the past alone/Hoped that I would never find/all the shit I left behind …I don’t want to hear the things/you say you know all you’ve redeemed/’cause I can’t change what’s come before/build myself some better dreams…Give me strength to find the road that’s lost in me/Give me time to heal and build myself a dream/Give me eyes to see the world surrounding me/Give me strength to be only me.” ~Over the Rhine , “Give Me Strength
Fred had no idea where she was going, only that she needed to leave. She needed space to deal with the memories that had suddenly flooded the empty spaces in her mind. She needed to know if she could deal with it all.
Not that she actually had a choice.
It was all there now. Wesley’s betrayal, her harsh words spoken in his hospital room, the way she’d used him. The way they had all used him.
He had told her that he’d loved her for a long time, but she wondered if remembering wouldn’t change that, because she was certain that his love wouldn’t have survived that horrible year.
Although, there had been that kiss in the midst of all the trouble with Angelus, even if their feelings had been horribly confused.
But he’d liked Lilah. Maybe even loved her, and Fred knew that she and Lilah had nothing in common. How could Wesley like the both of them?
She ended up walking the beach, watching the waves break against the sand, men and women in their bathing suits, children building sandcastles. There were college students, either on break or escaping from campus for the day.
Fred remembered doing the same thing herself on occasion. She and some of the other students in the physics lab would come to the beach for a few hours. They had talked about particle theory and quantum mechanics even as the sun beat down on them from overhead.
That fragile innocence had been destroyed in Pylea.
What strength she’d regained seemed ready to snap under the weight of her newly returned memories.
The craziest part of all of it was that Fred still loved him. She had loved Wesley even when she stood in his hospital room, telling him never to come back to the Hyperion. Maybe she hadn’t loved him as anything more than a friend, but the seeds had been there.
She should have known. She should have realized how he felt about her. The clues were all there, now that she looked back on that time with clear eyes. She had stood in his hospital room, looking at the pale figure in the bed, and she had broken him.
And then she’d gone to him for help, and he had done everything she asked.
He’d killed his father for her. Somehow she knew he would have done so even if he’d remembered everything. That was just Wesley.
Fred somehow knew that what had happened between her and Gunn, what had gone on with Connor and Jasmine and all the rest, didn’t matter to Wesley even now. He had helped her kill Professor Seidel. Gunn had been the one to snap the man’s neck, but Wesley had shown her what to do, what spell to use to open the right portal. He’d told her how she would feel afterwards, and then he’d wished her luck.
He’d kissed her in Angel’s office, and the way he had looked at her—
Fred sat down on the sand with a bump as the weight came crashing down again, the weight of all that had come before, and she suddenly hated Angel.
She hated him because maybe they all might have gone on to rebuild what they’d once had, and maybe they could have rebuilt it better if they had had their memories intact. They knew the horrible truth of what they were all capable of being and doing. They knew each other better than anyone in the world could know them because they had seen the worst and the best, the secrets that hid beneath their masks.
Now, everything they thought they had was revealed as false, because they didn’t know, not really. She had loved a mask, never knowing what lay underneath.
The real problem was that she loved the man, too. She loved Wesley, even with the gaps in her memory filled. Fred just didn’t understand how he could love her.
~~~~~
“They won’t remember, will they?” Connor asked as they stood awkwardly in Cordelia’s room. At her puzzled look, he explained, “My parents. They won’t remember me now that the spell is broken.”
Cordelia sighed. “I don’t know. You could go by and find out.”
Connor shook his head. “I have the memories, you know. I remember what it was like to grow up in a normal home, with regular parents, and it’s all a lie.”
“It’s not a complete lie,” Cordelia said softly.
“How can you say that?” Connor demanded, his voice rising. “How could he do this to me?”
“It’s not a lie because it’s what he wanted for you.” They both knew she was referring to Angel. “He loved you enough to give you up. I know that probably doesn’t make sense, but—”
“I get it.” It was almost a whisper, and a fat tear trickled down his cheek. “I remember that, too. You know what the craziest part of it all is?”
Cordelia sat down next to him on the bed and put an arm around his shoulders. “What’s that?”
“This last year was real. That was me. I didn’t—before, I didn’t know who I was, but I do now. At least, I know who I want to be. I liked who I was,” he added wistfully.
Cordelia was quiet. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t.” They hadn’t talked about the rest of it. She hadn’t yet spoken of the fact that she had slept with him—even if it was only her body. “I loved you,” Connor said quietly. “I guess I still do, but not—I understand now.”
“What do you understand?” she asked softly.
The boy shrugged. “I get that you’re like my mom, and that makes it kind of gross, you know?” He looked off into the distance. “I know what it’s supposed to feel like now. I know it’s supposed to be—different than it was. I’ve had—”
“You’ve had a mother,” Cordelia said.
He nodded, relieved that she understood, that he didn’t have to explain further. “Yeah, that.”
“Connor,” she began, pausing as she tried to find the right words. Cordelia was used to speaking her mind, letting her thoughts pop out of her mouth. This boy was too fragile, and too precious for that. She wanted to find the right thing to say for his sake. “Last year was really bad,” she finally said. “You know I wasn’t really me, right?”
He nodded, and she continued. “I can promise you that I won’t lie to you, and I can promise that we’ll be here for you, all of us, no matter how things work out with your parents.”
“Thanks,” he replied hoarsely. Connor stared down at his hands. “I think I want to stay in school. That was real.”
“Yes, it was,” Cordelia agreed.
Connor took a deep breath. “I want to see my—Angel, too. I need to talk to him.”
“Okay. I’ll set it up,” she promised.
Connor nodded. “And if something happens with my folks, can I come back here?”
“Always.”
And she held him as he mourned his fake parents, in a fake life, that still felt more real to him than any of his newly restored memories.
~~~~~
Spike broke the lock on the door easily. Wesley would make him repair it later, but he didn’t care. The ex-Watcher needed to not be alone right now, and since Fred had dashed off, it seemed like he was nominated.
“I locked the door for a reason, you know,” Wesley said, his voice cold.
Spike lifted an eyebrow and sat down, sprawling comfortably. “It was a stupid reason.”
“This isn’t about you,” Wesley said. “You have no idea—”
“You betrayed him,” Spike said evenly. “I know. You told me.”
“No, you don’t—”
“Then they betrayed you and left you out in the cold,” Spike continued inexorably. “That loneliness ate at you so bad you thought you’d go crazy.” Wesley remained silent. Spike figured he was probably on the right track. “You lost everything that ever meant anything to you, and Angel took that away. He took everything that might have made a difference, and now that all those memories are back, you’re pretty damn sure that it’s going to destroy everything you’ve been working towards. When you leave this office, it’s all gonna fall apart.”
Wesley sat down behind the desk. “How do you do that?” he asked wearily.
“Think about who I lived with,” Spike replied. “You’d better know how to read subtext around Angelus and Dru or they’ll eat you alive. Trust me.”
He buried his head in his hands. “Did Fred leave?”
“Yeah, she did, but probably not for the reasons you’re thinking,” Spike replied. “She loves you, Wesley.”
“You don’t know that,” he replied. “You don’t know what she said, or—how could she?”
“What?”
“How could she love me after what I did?”
Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath. “I don’t know.”
Wesley shot him a hurt look. “Thank you so much.”
“How could I love Buffy after she left me to dust in an alley?” Spike continued, as though he was simply continuing the discussion. As though it had some relevance. “How could Buffy still love me after I tried to rape her? You tell me.”
Wesley was staring at him. “I didn’t—”
“It’s not something either of us are particularly proud of,” Spike replied quietly. “Why would we spread it around?”
He rose, going to the cupboard where he knew the ex-Watcher kept his alcohol. “This is what’s goin’ to happen,” Spike said, almost cheerfully. “I’m going to get you drunk, then you’re going to sleep. Tomorrow, you’ll wake up with a hangover, and then you’ll hunt Fred down and tell her that knowing everything that went on doesn’t make a difference to you. If she’s anything like the girl I think I know, she’ll tell you the same, and you’ll shag like a couple of rabbits while Buffy and I make sure that whoever’s after Connor gets what’s comin’ to him.”
Wesley stared at the proffered glass. “Spike—”
“‘s a good plan.”
Wesley slammed back the shot and watched as Spike refilled the glass. “I like that plan.”
~~~~~
The knock on the door startled Connor. He looked up to see Dawn. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he replied.
“How are you?”
“Okay,” he replied. “I think it’s going to be okay. Where did you guys go?”
“I went to get something to eat with Buffy and Willow , since I have to fly back tomorrow.” At his crestfallen expression, Dawn added, “But I’m coming back as soon as school’s over, and then I’m staying here.” She sat down on the bed. “I wanted to tell you that we stopped by the hospital.”
Connor shut his eyes. “Did you—”
“I’m so sorry.” Dawn didn’t tell him that she’d disguised herself as a hospital volunteer so she could chat up his mother. Or that when asked about her kids, the only child she remembered having was a daughter.
“I figured. I didn’t think—”
“I don’t think anyone really did,” she said. “I know how you feel.” His eyes shot open, and anger flashed hot sparks at her. “No, really, because I’m fake too.”
Connor stared at her. “What are you talking about?” he asked in a flat tone.
“I mean, I didn’t actually exist until I was fourteen, and everything I remember before that was because some monks made it up.” Dawn smiled at him. “I was really mad when I found out.”
“What did you do?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
She shrugged. “I cut myself to see if I was real. I figured if I bled, I had to be real, right?”
Strangely enough, that made perfect sense to Connor. “And then?”
“And then my sister told me that I was a Summers , and Mom basically said the same, so it didn’t matter if I wasn’t real, because we chose each other.”
“What are you saying?” Connor asked.
Dawn gave him a look that suggested he was being intentionally obtuse. “I’m saying that you’re not fake . That you’ve got a real family here that want you, and that counts for a lot.”
Connor looked at her. “What happened to your mom?”
“She died,” Dawn said simply. “So it’s just me and Buffy. Well, there’s Spike too. He’s family.”
“I’m sorry,” Connor replied.
Dawn nodded. “Yeah, I know. Everyone always is. Do you want to go out?”
“What?”
“Do you want to go out?”
“Like on a date?” he asked, sounding so bewildered that Dawn took pity on him.
“Or as friends. I don’t care. I just figured you’d want to get out of here.”
“I do.” Connor realized that he needed out. He needed something else, too. He needed a good fight, the opportunity to stretch muscles that hadn’t been used for months. That could wait, though. First, he needed to escape for a little while. “You want to go see a movie?”
“Sure,” Dawn replied. “I’ll even let you pick.”
~~~~~
Fred entered the office just as Spike was spreading a blanket over Wesley. “Is he asleep?”
“Not so much asleep as unconscious,” Spike replied, straightening. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Fred stopped, realizing that it was true. She was fine. “I think we’ll be fine, too.”
Spike smiled at her. “I know you will be, Pixie. You got a lot of fight in you.”
“Enough to fight for him,” she agreed. “Have you talked to Cordelia?”
The vampire shook his head. “No. What’s she got to say?”
“She’s taking Connor to see Angel tomorrow.” Fred hesitated. “Buffy, Willow and Dawn went to see Connor’s parents. They don’t remember him anymore. It’s like he never existed in their minds. No one is sure where the last year went, but—”
“I imagine it went where everything else goes when you see something that doesn’t make any sense,” Spike replied. “Ask the Slayer. We saw it all the time in Sunnydale. You could vamp right in front of someone, and they’d write it off as a gang member on PCP.”
“Yeah,” Fred agreed. “We’ve seen it before too.” She walked over to where Wesley lay, touching his stubbled cheek fondly. “Do you think he’ll be okay, Spike?”
Spike hesitated. “If I were in your shoes, pet, I’d be here when he wakes up.”
Fred understood what he meant without any elaboration. If she was here, it might give him the reassurance that he needed. “I’ll be here.”
Spike smiled at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Spike?”
“Yeah, pet?”
“Thanks. For staying with him.”
Spike looked at the sleeping man. “Not a problem.”
~~~~~
Buffy woke as Spike entered their room. She had fallen asleep while waiting for him to come up. Sitting up, she watched as he stripped and then crawled under the covers, unsurprised when he immediately reached for her.
They just held each other, legs and arms tangled so that it was difficult to tell where one began and the other ended.
“I have to say that it’s really nice not to be in the middle of the drama for once.”
Spike chuckled. “Can’t disagree with you, luv.”
Buffy sighed, pressing her lips to his bare chest, beginning to nibble at his skin. “I mean, for once we’re not the ones doing the whole big dramatic scene, you know?”
“I know,” he said, sighing under her ministrations. “Also nice to know that there isn’t anything like that hanging between us. One thing we can say, we’ve never really been dishonest with each other.”
Buffy looked up to meet his eyes. “Actually, that’s not true.”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talkin’ about?” he asked suspiciously.
“I loved you when I was telling you I didn’t,” she replied.
Spike snorted. “Well, yeah. I knew that already, pet.”
Buffy glared at him. “Hey! I’m trying to be honest here, buster.”
“Buffy-luv, I knew. Something in me knew, even if I couldn’t quite bring myself to believe it.” Spike smirked at her. “Your lips might lie, but your eyes can’t. You’re a horrible liar, Slayer.”
“Tell that to my mother,” Buffy said in a hurt tone. “I lied about being the Slayer for years, and she never found out.”
“No, she thought you were a trouble-maker,” he corrected her. “She had no clue about the Slayer part, but she was mostly right about the other.”
“I was not a trouble-maker,” Buffy retorted, gasping as Spike’s mouth began to work its way south. “Trouble found me.”
“Right.” He didn’t stop. Spike’s lips and tongue were working their magic, and Buffy lost the thread of their conversation entirely. “Point is, we’re honest with each other now,” Spike said, taking a momentary break.
“Don’t stop,” she commanded. “And, yes, very honest. Can we get back to the point now?”
“What is the point?” Spike teased.
Buffy mock-glared at him. “That I love you and you love me, and you need to get back to what you’re doing.”
“Whatever my lady wants,” he replied, and set about doing just that.