Kirsi
Angel
Joined: 09 Jan 2007
Posts: 35
Location: Finland
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 Posted: Wed Jan 10, 2007 3:28 pm Post subject: A Flame in the Night (BtVS/Spuffy) |
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I am a huge Spuffy fan as those who know me probably are aware of. Writing this fic was actually very emotional, Spuffy means so much to me. I have always wanted some kind of resolution for Buffy and Spike, so I created my own.
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Thursday
Spike is alive. I found out yesterday when Andrew accidentally blurted it out in the most casual and unexpected manner. He has been alive for all this time, and I had no idea. I felt no foreboding, no ghastly premonition at all. Once again he has managed to shatter my peace of mind like nobody else ever has, and his memory has brought so much pain back with it.
It would be easier not to know, but I still can't make myself to just wish that Andrew had stayed quiet. I'm angry at him for not telling me sooner. I don't know what to do with this information. It's like a red-hot bug-bite I can't help but scratch. An itch I can't scratch, how appropriate. Spike would be amused, no doubt about that. And to make matters worse, he's with Angel now. I can't trust Angel anymore based on things I have heard, no matter how much it hurts me to admit that. Does this mean I can't trust Spike either?
Why hasn't he come to me? It's so difficult to believe that he has actually stayed away this time. I wanted him gone, or dead, for a long time. But now that he hasn't come to me, I feel offended and abandoned. Is it my vanity speaking, or do I really miss his presence? What would I tell him, if he did come? Does he not care anymore? It feels silly to even think something like that.
He was always following me like a persistent, distorted shadow. I didn't want his presence, but I was never able to dust him for good either. I wonder why. It couldn't have been for affection or fondness, that's for sure. And not for any kind of mysterious connection either. He was just there, like an irritating bug I couldn't force myself to get rid of. Maybe I felt sorry for him somehow. He was rather pathetic, after all, with his chip and pig-headed Big Bad posture.
But he was also the one who saw through me, the one I couldn't deceive. For a long time I hated him for that – among other things. It made me feel dirty and tainted, and I didn't want a lousy vampire to read me like an open book. But in the end he became the only one I truly trusted, often even against my better judgement. Now I miss his ability to see me as I really am, without masks or disguise. But if he was here with me now, would I be able to tell him that, or would I reject him like I always did?
I can see his face even now, the way it was the last time I saw him. I am so proud of him for what he did. He was not a monster anymore, but not a man either, and I still wasn't quite sure if it was alright to love him. His last words to me were a rejection. Did he truly believe I was lying? How could he? Didn't he feel the same flame burning as I did, didn't he feel me like I finally felt him? It may have been the wrong moment, but it was the last one I had, and I had to be honest to him and to myself. But he made it a lie, and I detest him for it, now that he's alive and I can hate him again without feeling guilty.
Friday
Did I believe I was truly free, or was I just fooling myself through these months? The time I have spent here seems somehow wasted now. I haven't been free since I was called all those years ago, and now I'm not sure if I can find a way to separate my feelings for Spike from my burden and destiny.
I tried hard to forget and let go. For a while I even thought it was possible. I smiled when the Hellmouth was closed, and I managed to believe I had left most of the specters haunting me there – him among them. I mourned for him, of course, how could I not to? But at the same time all I wanted to do was forget and start my life over, now that I was no longer alone with my responsibility. Everyone thought I was more than justified to move on without looking back, and they were right of course. I have earned my chance to rest and let go after all that time as the sole protector of humankind.
But it wasn't simple like that. After the relief and flush of victory came self-doubt and exhaustion. There is no way to turn back time. All that has happened has left its mark on me, and sometimes I feel the scars are too deep to heal even with time and oblivion. The Shadow Men were willing to plant the seeds of even greater darkness in me to help me face what I was about to encounter. I did not need their help, but sometimes I wonder whether I already had that darkness in me or if they succeeded at the very end. I shared my burden with all those girls, but I don't feel that much lighter now. No matter how hard I try.
Did I do wrong by using Willow to make the change and shift the balance? Did I curse those girls to the same darkness I feel inside of me? I know Faith feels it too, but perhaps it became a little less grave and sombre when we decided to share it? I thought so then, and for a while it really felt that way. But now I don't know anymore.The more I think about it, the more absurd the thought of my freedom seems. First I was a prisoner of slayerhood. Now I'm a prisoner of false normality.
Maybe it's just me. Maybe I did come back wrong, like Spike once told me. Maybe I've been wrong all the time, and this darkness has nothing to do with being a slayer but being me, Buffy Summers. Sometimes when I look at the mirror, I feel so incredibly old and tired, like every battle and fight is written clearly on my face. It feels strange how no one else can see them, but I guess they are only invisible lines and wrinkles. I wonder if Spike would be able to see them?
Sunday
I dreamt of Spike last night. He made love to me in that dream. I could feel his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin, and he looked older than the last time we met. There was terrible sadness in his eyes and his body was bruised and injured, and he was in pain. Yet at the same time his touch was more tender and lighter than it ever used to be, and his breath drew invisible lines with hidden messages over my flushed skin. I was so happy and content, and we felt safe with each other. But when I woke up, I was crying.
I don't want to dream about him, not now. I don't want to feel the desire again because it belongs to the part of my life I'd rather forget. Touching him used to be like touching pure fire, and there was a time when all I wanted to do was burn with him. His darkness was a perfect match for mine, and so was his body with it's sharp angles and pronounced muscles. I used him, that is true, but it was never simple like that. And in the end I ended up hating myself for almost loving a monster. I always thought he was the obsessed one, but now I'm starting to doubt that.
Acting normal through this weekend with all the turbulence in my mind was an effort I don't care to repeat any time soon. I went out with The Immortal; I danced and I laughed and I let him take me to bed. But all the time I felt hollow and distracted. It's over between us, no matter what I decide to do about Spike. I don't think Immortal will mind that much, and it doesn't even sting to admit that. There was never love between us. I used him to forget and to move on, but it wasn't a real effort. All those years I only wanted to be a normal girl, have a normal life with a normal boyfriend. And what do I do when I finally have a chance for that? Date an Immortal?
Dawn and Andrew are worried about me, and their concern feels smothering. They don't understand. Dawn is worried I will leave and and go after Spike. Andrew is secretly hoping for that very same thing. Will he ever grow past his childlike illusions of heroes and love stories larger than life? Will Dawn ever feel safe again? She has been so happy here, far away from Sunnydale and the ghosts of our past lives. To tell her it doesn't seem to work out would break her heart, and she doesn't deserve that. Not anymore, not now, not like this.
I knew this would happen. First a bug-bite, now an irritating rash. Will he never stop intruding my life? Will I ever stop inviting him in? And if I find myself searching for him, what will I tell Angel? That I'll always love him, but this time I didn't return because of him?
Monday
The troops have been alarmed. I received a phone call from Giles today, and it didn't go well. He's in England now, following his plan to constitute a training academy for Slayers and Watchers. I'm all for the idea – and I had hoped it would keep him too busy to meddle with my life, to be honest. I'm tired of other people telling me how to live my life and who to be. I know they love me and want the best for me, but they simply don't understand.
“I have lost all my patience with you and your vampiric lovers, Buffy”, Giles said to me. “Frankly, I thought you'd grown past that phase already. No good will ever come out of that relationship. He has caused you nothing but grief and trouble. He's not worth it, Buffy. You need to let it go.”
The voice of reason, he called himself, and I didn't have the energy to quarrel with him. I didn't tell him how I have already packed and unpacked my bags a dozen time since last Wednesday night. Sometimes it amazes me how blind my friends can be. I have no doubt that soon enough I will get anxious phone calls from Willow and Xander as well, telling me to forget Spike and not let him hurt me again.
Hurt me? What about the pain I caused him while trying desperately to feel? I used him and I degraded him just to feel better about myself. He just took it all, and never stopped loving me, soulless or not. He never left by my side, no matter how hard I pushed him away. Yes, he hurt me as well, but I have forgiven him a long time ago. I only wish it would be as easy to forgive myself. I acted like a monster, and it was not because of him. It was because of the darkness and desperation in me, and that is something my friends refuse to see even today.
Maybe it scares them to think of me as something less noble and less heroic, but a creature molded from some ancient demonic entity. I love my friends, I always will, but the closeness and connection we once shared just isn't there anymore. It's impossible to mend the rift between us before it's even acknowledged. Much easier to just go on as it is and keep the facade up. Sunnydale might be just a hole in the desert now, but it has left us all scarred.
I feel nervous and frustrated. I can't please my friends and my family, but I can't please myself either. I think of Spike all the time, and it feels like I'm sleep-walking through these days. All the time there's this nagging sensation that I should be with him, that it's my place and I should just stop fighting against it. But I have fought so long and so hard that it's not easy to give up, especially since I feel like I'm letting down the ones who love me by even considering it.
Wednesday
Another disturbing dream, but this time I think I know what it means and what I need to do.
I was in the desert in my dream, and the First Slayer was there with me. It's been a long while since the last time she visited me, and I thought the sands of time had finally swallowed her from me. But I was wrong, she's still circling around me, both watching over and threatening. The desert was dark, it was a moonless night, and I was sitting in front of the same fire as all those years ago when Giles took me there the first time. I felt lost and lonely, and I could hear the coyotes howling in the night. The flames of the camp-fire did not warm me at all, I was so cold, and the First Slayer spoke to me.
“You have lost the fire, haven't you?” she said to me with a voice I didn't recognize. “Remember how I told you about it, about love brighter than the flames. I told you not to reject it, I told you to face the pain and face the love. And now you have lost them both. It is dark around you and a terrible danger threatens the one who bears the spark. But it is not too late, not if you accept my gift.”
And she handed a small stone to me, black as the night around us, smooth and cool like the desert air. I took the stone, and as soon as I touched it, it burst into flames and my hand was on fire. I felt no pain nor fear, it was a familiar flame and I thought I saw Spike's face through the fire, and then a dragon high up in the sky. Spike was in pain, and he was scared, but when I tried to reach for him, the flame died and I woke up.
My heart was beating so fast, I was soaking wet with cold sweat and trembling all over. The sheets were wrapped around my legs like poisonous snakes, and I had to get up to be able to breath again. But for the first time since I heard about Spike's resurrection, I was sure what to do.
I will go to him. I need to be with him, I want to be with him. I don't care if it's wise or not. I have been living in denial and half-truths long enough. I know Spike is in danger, and I'm not going to let him die on me a second time so soon. I am going to find him and tell him how much he means to me, and this time I will make sure he understands it. What happens then – I don't know. But at least I have been honest with him and with myself.
There is never going to be an ordinary life for me, I know that in my heart. There will always be darkness around me, and inside of me. But the darkness is not only about despair and death: There is also a fire, a flame and a love. And this time I will not try to elude it. I will face it, and if I burn, so shall it be. I am going to find him and tell him I love him, believe in him and that he's the one I want to be with. It took me a long time to figure that out, and I'm still not totally comfortable with the idea. But I don't want to loose him again, and I don't want to wander in darkness and coldness just because I'm too stubborn and proud to follow my heart and instincts.
I only hope I'm not too late.
The End
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