Author: Kat Lee
For:feliciacraft, who requested "Spike/Buffy reunite after his return to W&H" -- in a manner other than what we actually saw on the show
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel
Character/Pairing: Spike/Buffy, past Angel/Buffy
Word Count: 1,214
Date Written: 31 July 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
At first, she looked at the floor, at her shoes, at the walls, at anything other than him once the others had left them alone. Finally, he heard her take a deep breath, saw her strong shoulders tense, and knew she was summoning her courage. What he didn’t know and couldn’t even guess at was that facing him in this moment took more bravery from her than facing the First, the Master, or any of her other, numerous foes in the past. A broken heart was much worse than broken bones or even, it seemed at times, an ended life.
Finally, she brushed some of her lovely, shimmering blonde hair, hair that he well remembered combing his fingers through and pressing his lips against, out of her face and looked up at him. She seemed shy, not at all the brave fighter with whom he’d fallen in love back in Sunnydale. “Did they take you out of Heaven too?” she whispered, her heartbreak clear in her voice.
Spike gazed steadily at her. He had dreamed of this moment so many times; yet now that he and she were here, that they were together again after they’d both thought he was dying, there seemed no way that it could end right, no way that it could even come close to his dreams, the good ones any way, not the nightmares. He met her gaze and answered honestly, “The closest I’ve ever known to Heaven, pet, was when you lied and told me you loved me.”
The surprise on her face tore even more at his heart. She opened her mouth, then shut it again. He could hear her heart racing, feel her blood pounding, and he wondered if she had been about to try to deny that it had all been a lie. He knew she didn’t love him. She couldn’t love him. He may have sacrificed what they’d thought at the time was his very being for her world, but he still didn’t deserve her love. He couldn’t, no matter what he did, what he offered, or what he gave up. He’d finally come to understand that after everything that had happened with the end of Sunnydale.
He’d given his life, such as it was, and he hadn’t regretted it, but although he’d been given what seemed to be another chance at getting things right, he knew the right thing was not to bog her down any more than he already had. He loved her. He always would. But she would never love him, no matter how hard she tried to pretend otherwise. He wasn’t worthy of her love. He’d never be worthy of a love of such a wonderful, good woman.
“Maybe,” she said, and she paused to take a deep breath and lick her lips. He wanted so desperately to kiss those sweet, delicious lips of hers, but even if he could, nothing good could come of it -- not for her. “Maybe we could try again?” she suggested softly.
Spike gazed at her, emotions swimming in his blue eyes. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he wanted to confess, so much he wanted to do to her. He’d dreamed of it every moment since the last time he’d seen her, and every moment even before for years. He’d dreamed of it, and although it was what all his best dreams were centered upon, only nightmares could come of it for her. She deserved better than him.
She always had, but now he was finally man enough to let her go. He remembered the old adage that if you loved something and let it go, if it loved you too, it would come back. Drusilla had done so several times over the centuries, but in the end, she hadn’t loved him. She hadn’t been capable, he’d since realized, of truly loving. Genuine love was something that very few Vampires experienced; in fact, he’d only ever known of two who had. Buffy wouldn’t come back to him, not again, but that was the way it should be. He couldn’t offer her anything that was worthy of her love; he certainly never could be, no matter what he ever gave. He’d given her everything he possessed already after all, and he still wasn’t worthy of her love. He never would be.
His eyes locked with hers, Spike moved forward across the room. Buffy tilted her head up and smiled nervously at him. She expected him to kiss her. Perhaps this would be even harder if he’d been able to make physical contact. He wanted nothing more than to ravish her lips and body, after all, with everything that he had, but the simple truth was that he could not touch her. Maybe his incorporeal state was for the best; it certainly left no question in his mind that this was the right thing to do.
He reached out, yearning to touch, aching to be able to tell her he loved her. His hand went to cup her cheek, and his fingers passed right through her flesh. She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Spike?!” she cried out in alarm.
“We can’t,” he spoke the words with apparent ease though everything in him warred against letting her go. He was surrendering his last chance at the most precious thing he’d ever known, the very person for whom he’d given his life and regained his soul. “You deserve better than me anyway, luv,” he said. He dropped his hand back to his side and turned around, giving her his leatherclad back before she could spy the betraying tears in his eyes.
“Spike!” He knew from the strangled sound of her voice that she was crying now. He didn’t dare look back or else he’d become a simpering wimp. She didn’t need that from him. She didn’t need him, not any longer. What she needed him to do was to walk away, so that was what he did, walking straight through the wall on the opposite side of the room.
He kept walking, passing through wall after wall and barely noticing where he was going. Somehow he ended up in the same room with Angel, who looked up at him from where he sat on his bed, clutching an image he sketched of the woman they both loved with all their hearts and all their souls, for whatever they were worth. He turned, prepared to flee, expecting Angel to taunt him. After all, he’d certainly ripped him to verbal shreds enough times over being a simp where Buffy was concerned.
“Now you understand.” The compassion and sorrow in Angel’s voice stopped Spike from walking through yet another wall. “We let her go, because we love her. We let her go, no matter how much it pains us, because it’s the right thing to do. For her,” he added as if it wasn’t already heartbreakingly obvious.
Spike nodded and choked down his own tears. Keeping his back to the man who had been his enemy, his sire’s sire, his friend, his family, even his lover, and now his boss, such as it was, he agreed, “Always for her.” That was true enough. Everything they did was for her, and he knew now, it always would be.