Chapter 30: Normal Again (1)
A/N: As for Hell’s Bells, I kept stuff that fits, and changed the rest to suit my (story’s) needs. Reading the script of the episode might help if you haven’t seen it or have forgotten about it, as I didn’t write the evil Trio scenes here.
Sighing, Buffy crossed the last address off her list. It had seemed like a good idea, really, to go hunting for the three annoying nerds. It should have taken her mind off demons and vampires, and particularly off Spike. But it wasn’t working. First, the hunt was boring. The list Willow had made three weeks ago of newly rented places had yielded no result so far. It probably was too old by now. Second, Spike was lurking around. Her Slayer senses were telling her that a vampire had been following her almost since she left the house. Yet, every time she turned or tried to see him, she couldn’t find him. She wouldn’t call out for him. He was the one who had left in anger. He was the one who had called her a bitch. He would be the one to come to her, and not the other way around.
Trying to focus on her present mission, Buffy found the last house she had to check. She doubted this last address would turn out to be the one. It was a nice residential street, cute houses lined up on their little grass patches. She came close to the window, peering in. It was completely empty. Whoever had rented this had never moved in, or already moved out.
Decided to be thorough despite the blatant uselessness of it all, Buffy walked to the back of the house to check on an eventual van. Tilting her head, she stopped mid stride, and listened carefully. A hiss came from the shadows, followed by a tall and nasty looking demon. Exactly what she had wanted to avoid for the night. Slowly, they started circling around each other. Buffy noted dimly that she had never seen one of these red eyed, translucent skinned demons. Always something new on the Hellmouth.
“Um, you didn’t by any chance just eat a bunch of nerds, did you?”
Before she had finished her question, the demon was swinging at her. Ducking was simple, and so was pushing the thing back down the alley. She was just telling herself how easy her slaying duties had become since she had been turned, when the demon surprised her, grabbing her by the arm and plunging a long, needle-like stinger in her flesh. She shook him off, staggering. She had to close her eyes for a second to stop the world from spinning around her. When she opened them again, the demon was gone. And so was the alley.
Cursing, Spike threw the cigarette to the floor and ran to Buffy. She had been doing just fine, kicking the demon’s ugly behind in that graceful dance of hers. And suddenly, she had just stopped fighting and let the demon run away. That was a few seconds ago, and she was still in the same spot, looking completely out of this world.
In a few strides he was by her side, passing a hand in front of her unfocused eyes. The smell of blood caught his attention, and he found the puncture in her arm, from which oozed a small trickle. Mixed to the blood’s scent was something else, something he had never smelled before. He could only guess that it was what had put her in that catatonic state. For a second, it reminded him how she had completely blacked out a year before, when Glory had managed to take Dawn. It had been torture to see her completely unresponsive then. It was even worse now.
He tried to shake her, gently at first, then more forcefully, but with no reaction. Not knowing what else to do, he scooped her up in his arms and started walking away. The bloody Witch would surely blame it on him, but at least she might be able to help. After a few steps however, she jerked into his arms and came back to her senses. She looked up at him, a frown creasing her forehead.
“Spike? What happened?”
He repressed a sigh at hearing her talk and held her tighter, but didn’t slow his step.
“You tell me, luv. You just stood there staring at nothing. That bleeding demon could have killed you.”
That is, he could have if he had known she was a vampire. Come to think of it, he had not even tried, just running away when she stopped fighting. Weird.
“Put me down. I can walk.”
Keeping his doubts unvoiced, he complied, ready to catch her if needed.
“So what happened?”
She shook her head as if to clear her ideas, and touched her arm where she was bleeding.
“The demon stung me. And then I was. somewhere else.”
Watching the far away look on her face, he lit a cigarette and dragged on it heavily.
“Where were you, luv?”
She blinked several times and looked at him. “It doesn’t matter. That was just an hallucination. I’m fine now.”
As if to prove her words, she started walking away. She stopped after a few steps, looking back to him, not saying anything. With a muted curse, he joined her and escorted her home. She didn’t suggest that he came in. He didn’t ask. They parted without a word, both still hurt by what had happened earlier that day. Both too proud to make the first step.
Reasonably sure that she was going to be fine, he visited a couple of cemeteries before returning to his crypt, slaying a few fledglings on his way. Pure habit. Less work for her. That’s when he realized he hadn’t asked her why she had been patrolling in residential neighborhoods instead of her usual hunting places.
Tara’s eyes fell on Willow as soon as she came out of the classroom. Saying a quick goodbye to a classmate, she walked toward the fidgeting redhead, smiling shyly.
“Hi Willow. How are you?”
“Hi Tara. I’m just fine. You?”
“Good.”
They observed each other in silence for a few seconds, the tension becoming almost palpable. They had made small talk at the wedding, and even danced together. Just one dance, and with reasonable distance between them. Still, it had been nice.
“You wanna go for coffee?” Willow asked finally, a light of hope shining in her eyes.
“I’d love to,” Tara answered with a smile.
The coffee turned into two, and two hours later they were still talking.
“Oh remember what I told you about Angel’s call?”
Tara nodded, taking a sip.
“He was right,” the redhead continued. “I confronted Spike about using the Sire thing to control Buffy, and he totally denied it, but I know he was lying.”
Frowning, Tara tilted her head. For some weird reason, she kind of liked Spike. Not much, but a little. Knowing what she knew about him and Buffy, she had trouble believing he would do anything to hurt her in any way. Even turning her had been about loving her.
“How are you so sure?”
“He forced Buffy to. well, sleep with him. That’s actually a rape now that I think about it.”
Her eyes widened a little in shock, and she carried on.
“And he also made her invite him to live in the house. Of course after I accused him of controlling her he just ran away, so no Spike in Revello.”
Tara felt very uncomfortable. She had the feeling that he hadn’t forced Buffy to do anything, as he hadn’t forced her before.
“What did Buffy say about it?” she asked.
Willow shook her head sadly. “She says she’s making her decisions herself. She doesn’t even realize he’s manipulating her.”
“What if. What if she is really deciding for herself?”
Tara watched over her cup the incredulous gaze Willow gave her. She wished she could tell her about Buffy’s little secret. But it wasn’t her place to reveal it.
“Tara, it’s Spike!”
“And? He’s been helping her for how long? And even when she wasn’t around he was still helping us. He’s changed. Maybe she has changed too.”
Willow’s mouth opened and closed several times without producing a sound. Tara smiled inwardly, knowing that she had opened a door for Buffy, should she choose to use it.
“If she does have feelings for him, it’s her choice and we have no word to say about it. Right?”
Finally stepping out of her torpor, Willow nodded. “Of course. No judging. But only if it’s really her choice. I still think he is using her.”
Having won half her battle, Tara changed the subject. She had no proof to offer Willow to convince her that Spike wouldn’t try to control the woman he loved. It was only a gut feeling. Yet she knew she was right. She only hoped Buffy would come clear to her friend.
It was the middle of the afternoon and Buffy was washing dishes. She had burned the pancakes earlier that morning, and the pan looked completely ruined. Still, it was her mother’s favorite pan for making pancakes, and she wouldn’t just give up on it. As she rinsed the sponge once more, she felt a vague of dizziness run through her, and closed her eyes instinctively. When she opened them again, the sponge was held by a nurse. She was in the same hospital room she had hallucinated about the night before. She stared at the nurse, not understanding what was going on.
“Be a good girl now Buffy. It’s time for your bath.”
At the same time as the woman touched her, she was back to her kitchen. Dawn was next to her, her hand on her shoulder.
“Hey Buffy, you’re trying to take a bath?”
Snapping out of her trance, Buffy blinked several times, glancing at Dawn’s concerned face before realizing that the sink was full of water and that her arms were in it up to the elbows. She turned off the tap, grabbing a paper towel to dry herself.
“You look weird,” Dawn said, slightly worried. “Are you ok?”
It took a few seconds for the words to make sense.
“I’m fine.”
Then something else registered.
“You’re not mad at me any more?”
The teen’s lips set out in a pout and she crossed her arms.
“Yes I am still mad. But Spike said you got hurt last night and that you were acting funny. Looks like you still are. You sure you feel good?”
Buffy’s first thought that it was nice that her sister cared for her like that. Then she realized what she had said, and frowned.
“When did you see Spike? Grounded, remember? No visiting of his crypt.”
Dawn threw her arms up and walked away, scowling.
“Grow up, Buffy. He’s my friend. I won’t stop seeing him just because you two had a fight.”
A long time after she had climbed up the stairs, Buffy was still staring at the spot where she had disappeared from her view.