29. Finding
Forgiveness
"I can't believe the
nerve of him!" Dawn fumed, pacing furiously through the living room,
her arms folded across her chest in front of her, too angry to stop
moving. "Who does he think he is? Like he's just gonna waltz in here
after what he did and we're gonna be like, 'Oh, okay, Xander, it's all
good! Never mind that the last time we saw you, you acted like a total
psychotic freak'!" She paused in her rant to look up at her sister and
her friend, to gauge their level of agreement with her rant.
Spike was just standing there, quietly, looking at Buffy. It was nearly
impossible to read the troubled expression in his stormy blue eyes. He
didn't really seem angry; in fact, as usual, most of his attention
seemed to be focused on Buffy, and how *she* was reacting to the little
scene.
Buffy didn't say anything, either. Her eyes were full of tears, and a
deep sorrow, reflecting the sense of loss she felt over the whole
affair. Xander's friendship had meant so much to her for so long. It
was terribly painful to think of it ending now. Still, she felt she had
no choice but to stand her ground. Xander had made his choice when he
had lied to her, tricked her in order to hurt someone she loved. You
couldn't just come back from that with no more than an "I'm sorry".
Without a word she walked into the kitchen, understanding her sister's
need to vent, but still finding that hearing it only upset her more.
She could find no satisfaction in denying Xander the forgiveness he
sought. But at this point, she had to think of Spike's needs first, and
she was certain that receiving Xander back with open arms would be
terribly foolish.
First of all, she felt that it would give Spike the impression that she
felt like what Xander had done was no big deal, and that could serve to
reinforce the ideas he was struggling with that abuse and mistreatment
was his due, what he should expect.
Secondly, as much as she wanted to believe that Xander had had a true
change of heart, she knew from experience that opinions as strong as
Xander's had been did not change overnight – not without some major
event to trigger such a change. Even if Xander never again tried to
physically harm Spike, she was fairly certain that it would only be to
stay on her good side.
Xander's obviously intense hatred for Spike alone was enough to have a
negative impact on his recovery, even if Xander attempted to veil it
for her benefit. Spike was too perceptive to miss it, no matter how
good Xander's deception. And she simply could not allow anything more
to add to Spike's insecurity and self-doubt. Right now he needed
nothing but love and support.
"Well, that was...awkward, wasn't it, love?" his soft voice spoke behind
her as he entered the kitchen, full of concern, and a little
trepidation. He was testing the waters, cautious and unsure of her mood
after her confrontation with Xander.
She did not turn from where she stood at the counter, bracing herself
against it with her hands. "That's putting it lightly," she nodded
wearily as she responded in a dark tone.
He moved closer to her, slowly, not wanting to overstep his bounds, and
a bit unsure as to where exactly those bounds were. He had begun to
feel much safer and more comfortable with her, especially after last
night, but he still had a tendency to feel nervous when faced with
anyone in a volatile sort of mood.
"Buffy," he began quietly, placing a gentle hand on her arm, and she
turned to face him, the hard angry set of her jaw and glint in her eyes
softening at the apprehensive look on his face. She forced a little
smile in an attempt to put him at ease, though she knew he could see
right through it, and just looked up at him expectantly, waiting for
him to go on.
"I think – I think he meant it, love," he said softly, looking at the
floor as he spoke, but then hesitantly looking up to meet her eyes, to
see her reaction to his words.
Buffy's eyes widened in surprise. That Spike, of all people -- the
*victim* in the whole scenario, was coming to Xander's defense – was
amazing to her. She somehow thought that it should have made her feel
more forgiving toward Xander – if Spike could forgive him when he was
the one who had been wronged, how could she hold it against him?
But it didn't. Instead, it just made her resent Xander's behavior even
more, to see Spike's kindness toward him, in contrast to the cruelty
Xander had displayed.
"Yeah, so did I. The first time," she sighed. "Right before he..." She
stopped, shaking her head angrily before bursting out, "My God, every
time I think about what he did, I just want to...to..." She shook her head
again, at a loss for words.
Spike shuddered at the memory. In the moment of the incident, Xander
had terrified him. He had been certain that the boy was going to
inflict brutal suffering on him with the chip controller; he could
clearly remember the image of Xander's furious, hate-filled eyes
focused on him as he spouted out insults and threats.
The boy who had been at the door a few minutes before – well, he was
hardly the same person.
"I know, Buffy," he replied quietly, knowing that Buffy's anger, much
greater than his own at this point, would not allow her to see the
truth that was clear to him – not just yet. "But...if he really wants to
make it right..."
Buffy shook her head again, emphatic. "I'm not...I'm not ready to forgive
him, Spike," she admitted. "I think – I think I need to just be angry a
little while longer."
He was quiet for a moment, taking in her words. Then he added with a
soft surety, "That's what you *want*, pet. What you *need* just might
be something else entirely."
She looked up at him, a little surprised by the direct accuracy of the
comment. A slow smile spread across her lips as she looked into his
eyes. She shouldn't have been surprised, she realized. Spike had always
seen right through the mind games she played with herself – long before
she had, most times.
"Well...you know how I am about getting what I want," she shrugged, her
tone flippant, aiming for casual. She knew he was right; she didn't
want to admit it outright just yet, though; because that might mean she
would have to act on it.
He laughed softly. "Got a point, love," he conceded, not pushing any
further at the moment. It might take a little more time than he had
spent to get her to do what he knew she needed to do.
She laughed with him, moving away from the counter and slowly forward
into his arms, leaning her head against his chest, relishing the strong
support of his body that she had missed so badly. Her laughter died out
and she let out a weary sigh, leaning against him almost unconsciously,
needing his support so badly at the moment.
So many times over the past few months she had been faced with one
difficult situation or another, and in weariness or confusion longed
for him to be there, just to hold her and make her feel safe. Even over
the past couple of weeks, as glad as she was to have him back and as
willing as she was to do whatever he needed to help him recover, she
had still missed the Spike who had been her tower of strength, whether
she wanted to admit she needed him at the time or not.
Now, he wrapped his arms around her gently, pulling her close to him,
as always sensing her need and responding to it. In a clear contrast to
most of the events since his return, he moved one hand up to cup the
back of her head, his fingers slowly moving in a comforting motion
through her hair, as he murmured into her hair, "It's all right, love.
It's gonna be all right."
"I just don't know what to do," she whispered. "Xander's been my friend
for so long. We've literally been through hell together." She looked up
into his eyes suddenly, her gaze deep and searching, as she went on
passionately, "But you mean everything to me, Spike. There's no one in
the world more important to me than you...except maybe Dawn," she
conceded with a little tilt of her head. "And even that's a little hard
to say at the moment."
She allowed herself a small, sheepish smile before going on, her
expression becoming serious again, "To think that he did that ...that he
deliberately put you through that...whether he meant to actually *do*
anything or not...I just can't get past it."
He said nothing, just continued to hold her, looking down and just past
her with a thoughtful expression on his face. "I know it's hard, love,"
he allowed softly. "But I think that until you do...it's going to keep on
eating you up inside until you can't stand it."
"Probably so," Buffy sighed sadly. Her lips formed a depressed pout as
she looked away from him, frowning, and added, "Guess I'm doomed."
"Far from it, pet," he chuckled softly, placing a soft kiss on her
forehead.
She looked back up at him, the starry-eyed expression of having just
rediscovered a great love in her eyes. "I love you," she whispered,
leaning up to kiss him.
The almost awestruck look in his eyes was his response, as at the
moment he seemed too amazed at the good fortune that had befallen him
to even formulate a response.
"Well," he finally said, clearing his throat and looking away a little
with a slightly uncomfortable laugh; the moment had gotten a bit
intense. "I suppose I'd better look in on the Niblet...see if she's out
of murderous-rampage mode yet."
"I highly doubt it," Buffy muttered darkly, thinking that her sister's
rage toward Xander had made hers seem like mere annoyance. Buffy
honestly believed that if it was in Dawn's power to do Xander serious
physical harm, she probably would.
Spike slowly disentangled himself from her arms and headed toward the
doorway to the living room, as Buffy began idly, listlessly
straightening up the kitchen. At the door, Spike stopped for a moment
with a little half-turn toward her.
She glanced up and saw him standing there, waiting, trying to compose
his words, and paused, looking up at him with expectancy.
"There was a time, I'm sure, love," he pointed out quietly, "when you
thought you'd never forgive *me*, either." If he was feeling the usual
shame at the thought of his past actions, his voice did not betray it.
It was calm and even, and his words were brief but poignant. The simple
truth in them smote her heart.
She had been able to finally forgive Spike...when she had come to
understand how much she truly cared for him – how much her relationship
with him really meant to her.
How much did her relationship with Xander mean to her?
She froze; she couldn't find the breath to speak, as he went on slowly
toward the stairs.
When Spike followed Buffy into the kitchen, Dawn just sat there on the
couch fuming for a few moments, allowing her rage at her former friend
to run rampant through her thoughts. How dare he even show his face
here after what he'd done? And to ask them – to ask *Spike* -- to
forgive him! He didn't deserve forgiveness! He deserved...
Her thoughts had suddenly taken a different turn, as she remembered
what she had not when she had seen Xander at the door.
Her vengeance wish.
Her eyes widened. She had distinctly heard Anya speak the word, "Done."
right after she had made the wish. She knew that the vengeance demon
had to have carried it out. Quickly she rose from the couch and went
upstairs to the quiet privacy of her room.
As soon as she had closed the door behind her, she sat on her bed and
began to focus on Anya, trying to get her to show up. Anya had told her
just to call...but Dawn realized ruefully that she wasn't sure exactly
how.
Apparently it was rather simple, because within moments Anya
materialized in front of her.
"What's up, Dawnie?" she asked immediately. "Ready for your second
vengeance wish?"
"Not quite. Almost," Dawn answered impatiently. "First I wanna know
about the first one."
Anya suddenly looked very uncomfortable, looking away, not meeting
Dawn's eyes. "Not much to tell. You wished for Xander to understand
what Spike went through. He does now. That's about it."
"It can't be that simple," Dawn shook her head, crossing her arms and
standing up to face Anya. "*How* could he possibly understand?"
The anger in her trembling voice made Anya wonder. "What brought this
sudden curiosity on?" she asked her. "That was days ago. And you're
just now asking me how it went?"
"Well," Dawn felt defensive for no good reason. "a lot's been going on.
They did the healing spell for Spike, and he got really sick, and he
just started feeling better today..." She paused before admitting, "And
Xander showed up here today. Wanting to *apologize*!" She practically
spat out the last word in contempt. "And..." she shrugged
self-consciously. "I guess...it just made me wonder."
Anya didn't respond for a moment. Finally she answered, her voice quiet
and expressionless with her effort to hold back the emotions the
memories of the last few days brought out in her.
"I made him go through it. What Spike went through. I made him see
it...as if he was really there...as if it happened to *him*."
Dawn was struck speechless for a moment. "You can *do* that?" she
finally replied in amazement.
Anya nodded. "It was very...real...for him. And I think...I think he really
understands now," she struggled to get the words out in a trembling
voice, the knowledge of what the man she loved had gone through, and at
her hands, still painful for her.
"He couldn't," Dawn denied it, shaking her head, unwilling to release
her anger. "There's no way..." Suddenly, her eyes widened as a terrible
thought occurred to her and she looked up at Anya in accusation. "Did
you show him...?" she stopped, unable to even bring herself to speak the
shameful words.
Anya knew immediately what she was talking about and quickly responded
with an emphatic shake of her head. "No. I promised Spike I wouldn't
tell anyone. You only know because you overheard us. I wouldn't do that
to him." She paused, looking down, her voice softer when she continued,
"I wouldn't do that to *Xander*."
After a moment's silence, she went on with certainty, "But everything
else. The torture...everything...he went through it, Dawn. It wasn't *like*
he was really there...he *was* there."
Dawn had no words as she considered what Anya had told her. If that was
true...if Xander had *really* experienced what Spike had experienced, as
if it were really happening to him...then maybe his apology had been
sincere after all. Maybe he was truly sorry this time.
She could feel herself automatically hardening, resisting the impulse
toward compassion for the person who had hurt her best friend so badly.
Did it matter if he was truly sorry? Did his suffering mean that he
deserved forgiveness?
"Thanks, Anya," she said automatically, suddenly wanting to be alone...to
think all this through. "I just...wanted to know."
Anya didn't say anything for a moment. When she finally spoke, she
changed the subject. "How much longer do you think it's gonna take?"
she asked, a note of impatience in her voice. "I mean...whatever you want
to do...let's get it done...so I can stop worrying about what way Buffy is
going to kill me when she finds out I've put you in danger."
"Not much longer, Anya," Dawn assured her. "I've got everything planned
out, exactly how I want it to go. There's just a couple more things I
have to do first. Then I'll be ready." She stopped, but Anya kept
looking at her in anticipation, as if she expected more of an answer
than that.
"Another couple days...at the most," Dawn sighed, impatient herself.
She was finding that she did not have the connections or worldly
knowledge that her sister had. Setting up something like what she had
in mind was more difficult than she had thought, and it was taking
longer.
But now, she was sure that she was almost ready to carry out her
vengeance on Warren.
Very soon, he would pay for the devastation he had wrought on the
closest friend she had ever had. The single kick in the face she had
managed to deliver the day they had rescued Spike would seem like a
love tap to the little psychopath once she got done with him.
They heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and with a little nod,
Anya vanished from sight. A moment later, there was a quiet knock on
her door.
"Come in," she called, and Spike opened the door.
He entered with a tentative smile at her, and she felt her angry mood
softening at the sight of him. But just because the feeling of anger
faded a bit on the surface did not mean it was not still smoldering
away deep inside her.
Spike seemed to be doing so much better, just since this morning, she
noticed, pleased. He was beginning to regain his confidence, his
security, and seem more like his old self.
But there was still that quiet solemnness, that hesitancy that was so
unlike him. The scars Warren had left on him went far beyond the
physical ones – though those were many as well. Dawn thought bitterly
that it would take a lot longer than a week or two for Spike to find
complete healing, to feel truly safe.
Well, she was going to help along the process. When she was done,
Warren would no longer pose even the slightest threat to Spike or
anyone else, and he would know it beyond all doubt.
She returned his smile warmly, thinking to herself as she beckoned him
on into her room.
*Soon, Spike...I'll make that little creep wish he'd never touched
you...soon.*