Chapter 12: Hurt
“Bloody hell!”
As he jerked away from Manon’s approaching lips, Spike fell off his precarious perch on the edge of the bench, landing hard on his back, stunned for a second as much by her words as by the unexpected fall. Immediately, she was bending over him, worry present in her clouded eyes.
“Are you hurt?” she asked quietly, the threatening tears clear in her voice.
Mumbling that he was fine, he got to his feet. He had a sudden urge to leave the kid where she was and run away, but that just wouldn’t do. He had to put an end to this. He had to… God… he was the one who had always ended with his heart broken until now, doing it to someone else made him sick.
“I love Buffy,” he said bluntly.
“But you died for me”, she protested weakly. “It has to mean something.”
He stood right in front of her, trying not to flinch at the quiet tears that rolled down her cheeks, and put all his conviction into his words as he said:
“All it means is that I hated being human so much that it was easy to give it up. It saved you, great. But it saved me too. It wasn’t the selfless heroic act you think it was, Manon. It was me thinking of myself first. Don’t see more in it than there is.”
Her lips moved, but for a second no sound came out, until finally a whisper rose.
“You said you’d take care of me. Before the battle. And then you helped me fight. And you carried me out and you broke the pendant and you saved me and now you say all of this means nothing?”
Her eyes were pleading, and it hurt, because he knew he had been in her place before, begging for crumbs.
“It means you are a nice kid and I don’t want to see you die,” he replied softly. “Just like I don’t want to see any of the Scoobies die.”
“No more?”
“No more.”
Her eyes closed and he could see she was trying to stop her tears. He supposed she could have used some physical comfort, even just a hand on her shoulder, but doing that would just give her hope while he had tried to be clear there was none. He turned his back to her and walked a few steps away, giving her a minimum of privacy to compose herself. A cigarette was lit and between his lips without a conscious thought of even pulling his packet and lighter from his pocket. How could he have been so blind? The blushes with no reason. The always too fast heartbeat. The occasional stammering. The way she watched him when she thought he wouldn’t notice. He should have guessed what was going on right away, and put an end to it before it even started. But he had seen nothing. He had acted with her like he did with Dawn, falling again easily into the big brother role, and she had mistaken that for more. At least now he understood why she had slipped between him and the demon that had almost killed her. She had been ready to die for him, because she was in love with him. No wonder she had believed that him giving his life for her meant the same.
“Spike…”
He faced her again, glad to see that the tears had dried, wondering what she was going to say now.
“I’ll never mention this again,” she murmured, her gaze avoiding his. “And I hope you won’t either. But just once… can you… I’d like…”
“You’d like what?” he asked warily.
She took a deep breath, and her chocolate eyes rose from the spot they had been contemplating on the ground and found his gaze.
“Embrasse-moi,” she whispered. “Juste une fois. Rien de plus.”
Slowly, he shook his head. She wanted a kiss, just one, but there was no way in hell he could do that. Because he loved Buffy with all the soul he didn’t have anymore. And because if he did, Manon might think there was more for her to get from him.
The tears were back in her eyes, though not spilling yet. Unwittingly, he took a step toward her, then another, until his legs were touching the bench. There was the barest glint of hope on her features as she tilted her face up, and her eyelids fluttered closed. Pressing a gentle hand to the back of her head, he pushed down just a little, and brushed his lips on her forehead. He moved back a couple of steps, and for a second she didn’t stir. Then her eyes opened, each freeing a tear that she wiped from her cheeks immediately. Smiling sadly, she nodded and got to her feet. She retraced their way out of the park, going straight to where they had left the car, and he followed her, hands thrust deep in his pockets, wondering whether it was always painful even on this side of the rejection.
*****
As soon as she got in the car, Buffy felt that something was wrong. She caught a glimpse of Manon, and her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had cried. Spike was uncharacteristically silent as he drove them back to Revello, nodding as she told him about her final but obviously preoccupied by something. Just a couple of blocks from home, Manon spoke, and there was a slight wavering in her voice.
“Do you think maybe I could live somewhere else until Andrea comes back? With you two around me all the time I’m so used to the warning that I can barely tell when another vampire is close.”
Before Buffy could say a word, Spike was agreeing, promising to call the Sccobies and get one of the other two couples to put her up. One more clue, Buffy thought, that something had happened while she was at school. But what? Had they fought? Had they argued about something? What could they argue about, anyway? Buffy had noticed that the younger Slayer had a major crush on Spike, though he seemed clueless. She wasn’t much concerned about it, knowing very well that Spike was completely hers. And then, even Dawn had had a crush on him when she was younger. She had gotten over it, and so would Manon, as soon as she realized she didn’t have a chance.
As soon as they arrived home, Spike made a beeline to the phone. Within three minutes, he had convinced the Witches, as he called Willow and Tara, to get the spare bedroom of their apartment ready for a houseguest. From where she sat on the counter, Buffy observed as he told Manon she could go there immediately if she wanted. The girl accepted the offer, and a few minutes later she was at the door with her packed suitcase. Spike insisted that Buffy come along for the ride, and she guessed he didn’t want to be alone with Manon. Spike afraid of a Slayer? That was a first. She couldn’t wait to get him alone to know what was going on exactly.
*****
From what would now be her room, Manon could hear the vampires and witches chatting in the living room of the apartment, but she wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying. Instead, she tried to focus exclusively on the so important task of unpacking her suitcase, and think of nothing else. But soon she was done, and fresh memories invaded her mind. She had made a complete fool of herself. How she could have believed even for one instant that Spike had any feelings for her, she had no idea. And the worst thing was that he had been so nice about it. If he had laughed, mocked her, it might have hurt more at the moment, but it might also have helped her get over him. His kindness just made it all more difficult.
Sitting on the bed, face in her hands and sobbing quietly, she heard a soft knock on the door. Quickly wiping her cheeks the best she could, but knowing it wasn’t much use anyway, she only hoped it wasn’t him behind the door, or she might just die of shame and pain. It wasn’t. Tara stepped in, holding a couple of fluffy pillows, her soft smile disappearing as she looked at Manon.
“Are you alright, dear?” she asked quietly.
Manon nodded, but fresh tears rolling on her face proved that she was far from alright. Tara came closer and sat on the bed next to her, placing the pillows behind them. A soothing hand came to stroke Manon’s back lightly, and the young Slayer just stopped trying to hold back the tears and sobs.
“It will be fine,” the older woman assured in a comforting voice. “Whatever it is, it will be fine, you’ll see.”