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Summary: In an attempt to get over her grief for Spike, Buffy has cut herself off from her past life, and anything that reminds her of the vampire that's still in her heart.  But when a news story brings her attention to the battle in LA, the Slayer finds herself once again facing old betrayals and old faces.  Returning to LA she finds even newer betrayals and the possible death of her most secret hope.


Faded Hope

by bitchee

Chapter 8



Earlier…

Buffy was frustrated; she had searched for Willow without luck. She had seen a number of the girls she remembered from London and even bumped into a former potential from Sunnydale whose name she could not remember.

None of them seemed to know where Willow was.


Buffy hated hospitals at the best of times, but being here amongst all the injured girls was a little too close to the memories of her last battle, and the aching loss she’d felt as she waited in that other hospital a year ago.

As she checked the lobby for the third time, she wondered if Andrew was in LA or if he had stayed behind with Giles.

Contrary to popular belief she was not stupid, she knew that Dawn was right about the memory tampering. She was even willing to believe that someone had set it up to look like she was not where she actually was. What she didn’t want to examine too closely was Spike’s reaction to her presence. He had seemed all too willing to believe that she was with someone else, and it hadn’t seemed to bother him.

He had obviously been back for a while, and had not attempted to find her, or if he had, he’d dropped it the moment he’d been told about her supposed romance with the Immortal. And who the Hell calls themselves the Immortal anyhow? As If I’d date a guy that went by a title. She snorted. At least Angel and Spike had actual names.


While looking for Willow, Buffy had done some serious thinking.

When she and Dawn had discussed it earlier, it had seemed only logical that Willow would be behind the magic that had kept them so out of the loop. Nevertheless, after running it through her mind, she kept coming back to Andrew and his obvious involvement.

For one, there was no reason she could think of that would make Willow mess with her that way. No matter how many ways she looked at it, she knew in her heart that Willow had learnt her lesson with the loss of Tara.
Besides which, Willow wouldn’t pick Andrew to do her bidding, and as near as she could tell he was the only real contact she had had with the others for at least six months.

Not even on her worst day would Willow have asked Andrew to help. She barely tolerated the little nerd at the best of times, and when he had followed them to London, her impatience with the former trio member had been more than clear.

Then there was the fact that the whole thing smacked of a level of melodrama and senselessness that was just not Willow’s style.

Ok, Willow had done some really lame stuff in the past, hers and Spike’s engagement being a prime example, but those spells were either mistakes or her backfiring attempts at helping.

Willow knew as well as anyone else how she’d felt when she lost Spike. Just before she’d left London, they had gone to a pub one night, sat, and talked for hours about the people they had lost.

Apart from Dawn, Willow was the one person in the world that had no reason to keep her away from the Scoobie’s.

She had wanted Buffy to stay in London, not move halfway across the world, it didn’t make sense that she would do a spell to make sure that Buffy didn’t have any contact with her.

No, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed to her like one of the stupid schemes that the trio had had come up with during their repeatedly lame attempts to get rid of her. And Andrew had as good as admitted that he was the one to come up with some of their more benign plans.

She smacked herself in the forehead. God, maybe she should rethink the whole stupid thing. Of course it wasn’t Willow that had done it. Talk about missing the obvious. Willow was the one that was allergic to pecans; it made no sense that she’d ask for that recipe if it was her that was behind the spell. However, Andrew wouldn’t know that, and he she remembered, had a real fondness for nutty baked goodness.

When I get my hands on that little twerp, I’m so gonna kill him. “Grrrr” growling audibly, she startled a young nurse as she passed her on the way out.

He is so so dead. I can’t believe he thought he’d get away with this. Who the hell does he think he’s messing with.


Buffy spent the cab ride back to the Hyperion entertaining herself with the many and varied ways she was going to kill the watcher wannabe. But not before, she decided, she’d managed to torture the details of his stupid evil plan out of him.

Of course, all of her entertaining thoughts were just a way of diverting her brain from the thing that was really bothering her…Spike and his less than welcoming behavior.

Denial was her friend, and its pal avoidance was currently her best friend. So she’d just concentrate on the whole Andrew pending death thing and think about that thing she wasn’t ready to face, later.


As the cab stopped outside the Hyperion, Buffy was interested to note that the alley that had so recently been sight of a bloody and demon infested battle was now strangely empty. There wasn’t a demon corpse to be seen.

Hmm, looks like Willows here somewhere.
Right, speak to Wills first, kill Andrew later.

Curiously happy that her impending conversation with Spike was going to be delayed even longer, Buffy headed into the Hyperion to look for the witch.


Unbeknownst to Buffy and luckily for Andrew.
He and Willow had left only minutes before the slayers second arrival.

Willow, seeing that Angel was as close to killing a human as the souled vampire could get, took pity on him, and dragged the annoying pain in her ass off to get food.

Not that I care if the little shit gets eaten, she thought with a snigger, I just don’t want to have to deal with vampiric indigestion. Angels, way grumpy enough already.

Keeping her amused thoughts to herself, Willow pasted on her most interested smile, promptly tuning out the Andrew babble as they walked to a nearby diner.



This time when Buffy entered the hotel, she was cautious. Focusing her mind like Giles had taught her she let her slayer senses out. She easily pinpointed the presence of Angel, he, if her memory was correct, was most likely in the kitchen, towards the back of the hotel.

Not sensing anyone else in the rooms on this level she decided she would venture upstairs and see if Willow or Andrew were there.

Of course, the moment she entered the hall at the top of the stairs she immediately sensed Spike.

Ok, no problem, I’ll just take a quick look around and if I happen to bump into him I’ll…
Her thoughts slid to an abrupt halt, the sound of raised voices coming from the room she had just passed, setting off alarm bells.

Sheesh Dawnie, loud much. she thought with annoyance. Way to go little sister, could you piss him off anymore?

Rolling her eyes at her sisters’ obvious love of drama, Buffy sidled up to the doorway.
Careful to keep her presence concealed from its occupants she held her breath as she listened to their argument.

“Fuck you, Spike. You broke her heart that day. She’s barely been living since Sunnydale and you’re fucking here with that two faced bit”…

Buffy’s expression tightened with Dawns accusation, her sisters’ words cutting deep into the avoidance thing she had going.

Spike’s reaction a moment later made her jump, and as what he was saying sank in, she started to shake.

Oh God he really didn’t believe me. He thinks I was lying to him in the Hellmouth.

Buffy found herself stifling tears as his pain and bitterness washed over her.

Spike hated her; it was there in his voice. It wasn’t the anger that convinced her, it was the total absolute certainty she heard in his tone.

Worse, Spike had died believing she’d used him and thrown him away with less care than she showed for one of her stakes. A tool to be used and discarded without thought when it was no longer useful.

The tears did come as she heard Dawn’s defense and Spikes immediate denial.

However, she was sure she felt her heart break at Dawn’s soft admittance; that she could see, what Buffy herself had tried her best to deny to herself and everyone else.

Spike had told her that she was the one, that night in the abandoned house, but it had taken his impending death to make Buffy face the truth of her own feelings.

He had been her one, long before the soul. The only one, in all the ways that mattered, that could truly match her. Dawn had known… she had seen it right from the start.

Now it was too late, he didn’t love her anymore. Her blindness to her own feelings had finally managed to do what no words ever had.

How many times had she kicked and punched him, denied what he said she felt, told him she hated him, only to have him refuse to believe her words or actions.
It was only after the soul that he’d really doubted her. The soul he had gone and gotten for her.

Even those last days in Sunnydale when he had recovered his belief in himself, he had remained distanced from her in a way she hadn’t wanted to confront at the time.

God she’d been so stupid and thoughtless. He’d stayed for her, and loved her from a distance, and she had taken it as her due. She had all but thrown herself at Angel and he’d stood by her anyway. Of course, when she’d told him the truth, down in the Hellmouth, he hadn’t believed her. Why would he.

And now, looking at it from his perspective she couldn’t blame him.
As far as he knew, she was off living life in Italy with some guy she’d met only months after his death. Hell, I would hate me too.

Buffy’s lip trembled. Trying not to sob openly, as the man whom she loved more than life did his best to comfort her sister, she covered her mouth with her hands and slumped back against the wall.

Using words that only underlined her loss, he tried to deny what Buffy knew too late was nothing less than the truth.

Spike had been all she’d seen. The one thing that had given her focus, when all she had wanted to do was crawl into her bed and ignore what her friends and watcher wanted.

Dawn was right, she had loved him, and it had been obvious to every person in the house, except the two that mattered.

And now he had finally faced what he believed to be the truth, and moved on.

Spike, admitting it aloud to Dawn only showed her just how much damage she’d done to the man, who she now realized; she’d most likely lost for good.

Maybe he should be with Faith, she’d probably treat him better that I ever did.

She stood for a moment, hands still over her face, as she tried to picture a world where the man she loved, lived his happily ever after with a woman that wasn’t her.

She imagined them fighting together, and inevitably, with each other, she imagined all his soft looks directed towards the other slayer. She thought about Spike touching Faith, making love to Faith… telling Faith he loved her…

“Grrrr” No fucking way… over my thrice dead body.

Just the thought of Spike saying those words to anyone who wasn’t her, let alone Faith, made her stomach turn. It also had the interesting side affect of pissing off her inner Slayer.

Stupid damn vampire, never believed me all the times I told him I didn’t love him, and when I finally tell him I do… “Ill give him, no you don’t”. she grumbled to herself.
Ok then, time to turn the tables on stalker boy. I’ll just do what he did, I’ll get in his face and keep telling him he loves me... until he admits it.

Nodding decisively she glared at the partially open door.

There is no way I’m gonna give him up that easily. So what if he hates me. With Spike, that pretty much amounts to foreplay. Hell, if he won’t listen, Ill just have to move on to the first base part of things.

She rolled her eyes even as she smirked at her thoughts. Yep, punching some sense into him sounds like a plan.

Ok Buff first step… tell Dawn she was right. Second step convince vampire. Rinse and repeat.

It had taken only seconds for her inner ramble to run its course, and Spike, being in comfort Dawn mode, hadn’t yet sensed her.

Buffy was briefly tempted to stay silent and see what else might be said, but she wasn’t sure her inner resolve was up to hearing anymore painful truths. So taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, and took the first step.