34. Confrontation
While her mother was downstairs
sitting on the
kitchen floor, comforting the one she had unintentionally yet cruelly
victimized, Buffy lay facedown, sideways across her bed, her face
buried in her crossed arms in front of her, sobbing quietly.
It did not occur to her just then to wonder at the oddity of that fact
– that her mother was so concerned about the traumatized vampire, and
so angry with her for traumatizing him. Really, all her mother had
observed was a single blow – really not that unusual of an action for a
Slayer to take toward a vampire. True, her mother knew that Spike could
not fight back – but she was under the impression that it was for
entirely different reasons than it actually was.
If Buffy had been thinking clearly, her mother's behavior would have
clued her in to the fact that there was more to the situation than she
was aware of – given her some hint of the friendship that had been kept
a secret from her to this point. But, in her own guilt and shame over
her violence and cruelty toward Spike, she subconsciously *expected*
the accusation, the anger, she had received from her mother.
She was not surprised by the horrified reaction her violence had
received – as she was horrified by it herself.
It still all felt so surreal, so distant and strange to her – and yet
at the same time, painfully real and intimate. She remembered clearly
every single word she had spoken, every cruel way in which she had hurt
Spike, during the moments when she had not been in control of herself –
and the most frightening part was that in a way, she had the odd sense
that it *had* been her doing and saying those vicious things to the
defenseless vampire, that she had rendered helpless by the thoughtless,
reckless action of claiming him as her own.
Her own *mate*.
God, that single concept alone was still mind-boggling!
As if matters were not complicated enough, in addition to the powerful
possessive rage that compelled her to keep Spike under her control – to
prove any time her claim was even slightly challenged, that he was
undeniably *hers* -- there was the tender side of the bond that joined
them as mates, the link that made her want to protect and cherish him
above all others. She was utterly horrified every time when she would
come to herself in the wake of a violent attack on the vampire,
resolving that no matter what, it *would not* happen again.
And yet it did – over and over again.
And her guilt was intensified not only by her normal sense of morality,
but by the manufactured feelings that she now had for Spike, due to the
mating claim that bound them.
They *were* manufactured feelings – right? Only there because of the
claim?
Like everything else in her life at the moment – Buffy simply did not
know. She was confused and afraid, and felt more alone than she had
ever felt in her life. Her fear and pride, and the strange force within
her had all worked together to keep her silent about the true nature of
her dilemma when she had had the chance to reveal it to her Watcher and
friends.
Now, no one but her really knew the extent of her fear, her confusion
and helplessness in the situation she was trapped in – and now even her
own mother saw not what she was going through, but what she was *doing*
-- and was disgusted by it.
She just lay there, crying softly, facedown on her bed, the picture of
despairing, dejected misery.
Or, the picture of over-dramatic self-pity, as it appeared to Dawn,
standing in the doorway of her sister's bedroom, casting a narrow
shadow over Buffy's prone form.
"Quit feeling sorry for yourself," she snapped in a voice that trembled
with derisive anger. "You're not the one who just got the crap knocked
out of him for no good reason!"
"I *feel* like I did," Buffy mumbled without raising her head.
Dawn smiled sweetly. "Well if you *had* -- there would have been a
*very* good reason," she assured her.
Buffy looked up at her sister blankly, showing no reaction to her snide
remark, wondering vaguely why Dawn was so angry with her. She knew that
it was the struggle between her and Spike, just before she had hit him,
that had drawn Dawn downstairs to see what was going on – so all the
girl could possibly have seen was the same typical Slayer behavior her
mother had seen – that single punch.
Of course, Buffy remembered suddenly, the very thing that had set off
the possessive force within her was the revelation that Spike had
confided in Dawn about what had been going on between them. So perhaps
Dawn had a bit more of a reason to be upset with her than she had
thought at first. She wondered suddenly why Spike would have confided
in the teenager about the very adult situation he had found himself in.
Something was trying to fight its way through her fog of depression and
despair, a fact trying to make itself known to her, as she began to
wonder, finally, about the strangely easy, casual manner Spike seemed
to have with her family. But the truth was, at the moment, she did not
even feel like she had the energy to try to figure it out.
She could not even bring herself to care.
"Go away, Dawn," she muttered, her voice muffled as she lowered her
head back down into the comforting cradle of her arms. "I don't feel
like talking about this right now."
Dawn's eyes widened in disbelief at her sister's dismissive words – and
then narrowed again in an angry challenge. "Well, that's just too bad!
Because you're *going* to talk about this, whether you like it or not!"
she declared as she stormed into her sister's room, her arms crossed
over her chest in a gesture of determination.
"Dawn – just leave it," Buffy insisted in a tone of weary, overwhelmed
impatience, raising her head but not opening her eyes to face her
sister. "You don't have the first clue about what's going on. You don't
know anything about this, so please just go away and leave me alone."
"Spike told me..."
"I don't care *what* Spike told you," Buffy snapped, suddenly looking
up at Dawn with tears that could not mask the defensive irritation in
her eyes. "You have no idea what I'm going through right now!"
"Yeah. I can imagine," Dawn said dryly, her arms slowly uncrossing and
her hands going to her hips as she gave her sister a disgusted looked
before commenting calmly and clearly, "It must be such a nasty bitch to
be – well – a nasty *bitch*."
Buffy's jaw dropped, and her eyes widened in disbelief at her sister's
shocking words. She was not used to hearing Dawn use that kind of
language, anyway – and to hear it in the midst of such a heated
personal accusation – she was struck speechless for a very long moment.
And as she stared into her sister's cold, furious eyes, Buffy realized
two things.
The first was that somehow, Dawn knew a lot more about the situation
than she had assumed. And the second – was that she *cared* a lot more
than Buffy ever would have guessed.
"Just how much did Spike tell you?" she asked, her voice barely over a
whisper, and full of a suspicion – and a fear – that only seemed to
intensify the anger in her sister's eyes.
"Why do you wanna know?" she demanded in a trembling, accusing tone.
"So you know how hard to hit him later?"
Buffy flinched, although that had been the furthest thing from her
mind. "Dawn," she whispered, shaking her head, unable to meet her
sister's eyes. "That's – that's not fair. If he told you anything – he
must have told you that I didn't mean to..."
"He told me," Dawn interrupted, a bitter note to her voice as she
recalled how her friend had defended his abuser. "He was sure to make
it very clear that it wasn't your fault. That you didn't *mean* to hurt
him." She paused, her teeth worrying her lip for a moment as she
considered her next words. Finally she went on, "I'm just not clear on
which part he was talking about. The part where you smacked him down in
the kitchen a few minutes ago – or where you beat him up in an alley
last night..."
She paused, her hard, piercing glare forcing her older sister to meet
her eyes as she concluded coldly, "Or the part where you decided to
make him your *slave*, when he was already helpless – just because you
*could*. Did you *mean* to do that, Buffy?"
"I made a mistake, okay?" Buffy burst out, her voice shaking and on the
verge of losing control, as she stood up, turning her back on her
sister and walking toward the window, trying to put a little distance
between herself and the painful truth her young sister was stating, her
arms crossed over her stomach defensively. "I made a big, stupid
mistake...but I'm paying for it..."
"*Spike's* paying for it..." Dawn corrected.
"*I'm* paying for it, too!" Buffy nearly shouted, whirling around to
face her sister again, eyes blazing with frustrated pain and anger.
"You don't have any idea how – how scary this is! How scared I am and
how confused and lost and – and..." She struggled for control, turning
away again as a wave of tears rose up in her throat and her eyes, and
she finished in a lost, lonely whisper.
"...how bad this hurts."
Both girls were silent for a long moment. Buffy was trying desperately
to regain control of her emotions, and Dawn was unsure of how to
respond. She had seen Buffy only as the bad guy in this situation, the
person who was hurting her best friend – but there was no denying the
sheer agony of emotion in her sister's voice, her expression, as she
studied her unexpectedly vulnerable face, her tear-filled eyes and
trembling mouth.
"No one has any idea," Buffy whispered finally, shaking her head, a
desolate, aching despair in her voice.
After a long moment, Dawn spoke in a much gentler voice than she had
used with her sister thus far. "That's not exactly true," she reminded
her pointedly.
Buffy looked up at her, surprised by her words. When she said nothing
else, Buffy looked away again, taking in what she had just said,
remembering with a pang of guilt that Spike certainly understood what
she was going through – and yet, he probably felt every bit as alone as
she did. She wondered suddenly if she had been going about this whole
thing all wrong.
Why should either of them have to be so alone in this hurtful situation?
Since discovering the dangerous alter ego that she had developed as a
result of the claim, she had been struggling with how to act around
Spike, what was the appropriate way to treat him. Besides that one
tender encounter they had shared the night before, she had spent most
of the time she had had when she had been in control, avoiding him,
trying desperately to keep from hurting him.
But was she hurting him simply by staying away?
Whether she liked it or not, she had irrevocably bound him to her.
Their connection to each other was something that was not going to go
away, no matter how badly she wished it would. She wondered suddenly,
if perhaps her avoidance and failed attempts to distance herself from
him were only making things worse.
The claim was eternal; he needed her desperately, and she hated to
admit it, but she needed him, too. And yet, she realized with an aching
empty feeling inside – in a way, she hardly knew him. They had spent
most of the time that they had known each other trying to kill each
other – or at least professing to – and since he had become unable to
hurt her, she had hardly spoken to him except to tell him to shut up.
She frowned, troubled and thoughtful.
Eternity was a long time to spend with a stranger.
*Maybe it's about time I actually started getting to *know* Spike – my
mate,* she realized in an unexpected moment of clarity.
"Buffy?"
Dawn's quiet, questioning voice drew her back to the moment, and she
looked up at her sister with startled eyes.
"You have to find a way to stop this, Buffy. You can't keep doing this
to him," the younger girl insisted. There was more compassion in her
voice for her sister now – but her tone was still unyielding. She
refused to just stand by and watch as Buffy destroyed her friend,
little by little.
"I know that," Buffy agreed in a whisper, her eyes downcast. "Giles is
working on..."
"Breaking the bond, I know," Dawn finished for her. "But – I don't
really get the impression that the bond is the only thing going on
here, do you? And what good does it do if he breaks the claim – if
while he's working on it, you end up killing Spike?"
Buffy cringed at the voicing of the very real fear that had been in the
back of her mind. A few months ago, "killing Spike" would not have
seemed like such a terrible idea to her. They *were* mortal enemies,
after all. But now, the very thought struck a cold sense of terror deep
into her heart.
It stunned her, the power of the feelings for him that flooded her at
the thought of losing him – ironically, at her own hand. A protective
affection filled her, and her eyes widened in surprise at the power of
the emotion.
*That's not going to happen,* she thought with a fresh determination.
If she had to abase herself, had to admit everything, before her
friends and her Watcher – no matter what she had to do, she was not
going to *let* that happen.
"That's not going to happen." Her mother's voice from the doorway,
speaking her thoughts, startled both girls before Buffy could respond
aloud to her sister's question.
As Joyce stepped through the door into Buffy's room, her arms crossed
over her chest and a determined set to her lips, she added firmly, "I'm
not going to let it."