Collide

By: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-15

Disclaimer: The standard "I don't own; please don't sue."

Archive: Anywhere that already has my stuff; anywhere else just ask.

Summary: What if that house-demolishing in Smashed was a metaphor with a different meaning than the writers gave it? What if that night marked a release of a different sort? Goes seriously AU immediately after Smashed, and makes reference to my short story, "The Promise I'm Keeping," written for summer_of_spike.

Chapter 3: Who We Choose

"When the rain comes it seems that everyone has gone away/When the night falls you wonder if you shouldn't find someplace/To run and hide/Escape the pain/But hiding's such a lonely thing to do...When the rain comes you blame it on the things that you have done/ When the storm fades you know that rain must fall on everyone/Rest awhile/It'll be alright/ No one loves you like I do/I can't stop the rain from falling down on you again/I can't stop the rain/But I will hold you 'til it goes away" ~Third Day, "When the Rain Comes"

"You doin' okay, Bit?" Spike asked as he walked her home.

Dawn shrugged. "I guess. What was that about, Spike? Why would Willow go there?"

Spike sighed. There were some lessons he'd never wanted Dawn to be forced to learn. "Red's havin' some trouble, luv."

"Is it like being on drugs?" Dawn asked. Willow would have been the one person that she was absolutely sure would never do anything like that.

Spike shook his head. "She might think that."

"But you don't?" Dawn pressed.

He hesitated and then shook his head. "What do I know? I'm just a vampire."

"You spent all summer with us, Spike," Dawn pointed out. "You know what's going on."

"The witch is very interested in controlling things," Spike finally said, offering it as an observation. "She's got a need to control everythin' around her, an' the other side of things is that everyone likes to give up a bit of control now an' then."

"So she went to Rack so she didn't have control even though that's what she wants?" Dawn frowned. "Does that mean magic is bad? Because Tara—"

"Tara's a good sort," Spike interrupted. "She knows what she's doin' an' she doesn't cross boundaries better left alone."

"Oh." Dawn kicked at a rock in their path. "Spike? That guy, Rack? Is he going to come after me?"

"Not if he knows what's good for him," the vampire growled. "I'll make him wish he'd never been born if he lays one finger on you."

Dawn touched his arm. "Spike?"

"Yeah, luv?" he asked, looking over at her.

"How come I never see you anymore?"

Spike opened his mouth to reply, and then stopped, obviously thinking better of what he was about to say. "Your sister doesn't think it's so good if you see a lot of me, Bit. I'm not a good influence on you."

"Like Willow is?" Dawn challenged. "She's living in our house."

"Dawn—"

"I miss you."

They had seen each other nearly every day while Buffy had been gone. Dawn had known that no matter what everyone else was doing—no matter who was too busy for her—Spike would be there. She missed being able to count on his presence.

"Couldn't I sneak out or something?" she pleaded. "Like when we watched the meteor shower? I could even ask Buffy. Or we could talk to Tara. I bet she'd let us hang out over at her place. Please, Spike."

Spike hesitated. Spending more time with Dawn meant spending less time with Buffy. Besides, if the Slayer got pissed off about him "corrupting" her little sister, it could bring their relationship to a close, such as it was.

But Dawn was looking at him with those huge eyes of hers, the same way she'd looked at him over the summer when she wanted something from him he didn't want to give. Dawn had stuck by him, and Spike wanted to keep his promise.

He'd been remiss in his duties. Buffy had told him to stay away, and he'd followed her orders. Spike had been so focused on the Slayer that he'd lost sight of the girl who really did love him.

"I think sneakin' out would pretty much prove how bad an influence I am," Spike said regretfully. "But we'll work somethin' out, yeah? I'll talk to your sister, an' if that doesn't work, we'll go to Glinda. She might be willin' to give us a hand."

"Really?" Dawn asked, knowing that she probably sounded pathetic. As if to prove how not-pathetic she was, she added, "Not that I need somebody around all the time, because I don't. I mean, I'm old enough to take care of myself now."

Spike, who knew all too well how much Dawn liked having someone around, and how lonely things could get when no one seemed to want your presence, just smiled. "Still, it never hurts to have some company, does it?"

Dawn gave him a relieved smile. "No, it never does."

~~~~~

Buffy stared at Willow, not recognizing the woman who stood in front of her. What had happened to change them both so drastically? Okay, so maybe she'd died and then been resurrected, but what was Willow's excuse?

"You took Dawn into that place," Buffy stated. "You could have gotten her killed."

Willow scoffed. "Don't be so melodramatic, Buffy. Dawn was fine. It didn't hurt her to wait."

"She shouldn't have had to wait for you to get your fix!" Buffy shot back. "You had no right to take her there. It was dangerous." She shook her head. "I'm not going to get into this with you, Will, not while you're still high—or whatever it is you are."

"I'm feeling good," Willow replied. "And I know what I'm doing. You don't have any right to tell me what I should be doing, Buffy. You can't even keep track of Dawn."

Buffy stepped back, hurt. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're doing a real good parenting job when you're never around, and Dawn can go off and nearly get herself turned," Willow replied. "I don't see how you have any room to talk when you're the one who can't seem to keep it together, Buf."

"And whose fault is that?" Buffy shot back, hurt and angry, and ready to fight. If Willow wanted the gloves to come off, the Slayer was willing to give her a fight. "I don't think I have to remind you that you're the one who brought me back, Willow."

"I thought you were in hell!"

"You didn't think!" Buffy said, the anger she'd been suppressing coming out in a flood. "I died to save the world, and you didn't even hold a séance to make sure I was in need of saving. No, you decided you wanted me back, and you went ahead and made it happen. The big, powerful Willow, saving her friend from a fate worse than death. Well, I liked being dead, and most days I wish I was back there."

"I was trying to help you!" Willow shouted.

Buffy snarled, "No, you weren't. You just wanted to make things easier on yourself. It's not so easy being the Slayer, is it?"

The fight probably would have gotten worse if they hadn't heard the roar of a monster right about then. The beast Willow had inadvertently called up came galloping towards them, looking ready to rip them both to shreds.

"What is that thing?" Buffy demanded.

Willow shook her head, her anger receding in the face of her fear. "I don't know! I saw it in my vision, and—"

"You brought it here," Buffy interrupted.

And then the monster was upon them.

~~~~~

Xander watched as Anya flipped through the pages of her bridal magazine. "I just don't understand why Buffy hasn't shown up today. I thought we were supposed to be researching the frozen security guard."

"Maybe she had other things to do, Xander," Anya replied, a little tired of his constant out-loud thinking about where Buffy might be.

Xander frowned. "What other things? She's the Slayer. It's the Slayer's job to take care of things like this."

"If you're so concerned, why don't you call?" she suggested, turning a page. She still hadn't managed to find suitable bridesmaids dresses, or pick out a color. Anya was fairly sure that the dresses needed to be ugly, since that would prevent anyone from outshining her on the big day.

Xander shrugged. "I did. No one's answering the phone."

"Then maybe you should go over there," Anya said. If Xander went to check on Buffy not only would he put his mind to rest, but he would also get out of her hair so she could start making some decisions. Then maybe by the time he got home, he'd actually be able to focus on giving her orgasms.

He hesitated. "But what if they come here?"

"Then I'll be here, and I'll help," Anya said patiently. Xander was beginning to get on her last nerve. She really did love him, but sometimes he irritated her to no end.

"Well, okay," Xander said, leaving the shop slowly. Buffy had said that she was going to come by earlier, he was sure of it. Xander was worried about the Slayer. It wasn't something he could put his finger on, exactly. Buffy simply hadn't been the same since she'd been resurrected.

Xander felt more than a twinge of guilt at that thought. Who could blame her for being a little off? If he'd been in heaven and then got dragged back to the Hellmouth, he would probably feel the same way.

He just wasn't sure what to do for her. Xander wanted to offer her his support, but with Anya and her wedding preparations, plus the demands of his job, he didn't have nearly as much time for her as he had back in high school.

Besides, what was he supposed to say to her? "Sorry we pulled you out of heaven, Buf. We had no idea."

That was really where the guilt came in—when he started to think about how they might have found out, what they might have done to prevent it from happening.

And there was the kicker. Xander didn't want to prevent it. He wanted Buffy around, and yet every time he saw her, he couldn't help but feel guilty. Which just led to more avoidance, which led to yet more guilt.

It was a vicious cycle.

The lights were on in the house when Xander arrived, although he was more than a little surprised when Spike opened the door. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Where's Buffy?"

"She's taking care of Red," Spike replied. "What are you doing here?"

"Buffy was supposed to come to the Magic Box this afternoon," Xander replied, hostility lacing his tone. "And what do you mean she's taking care of Willow? What happened?"

"Willow almost got me killed," Dawn said, coming out of the living room. "I think Buffy was going to yell at her."

"Niblet," Spike said, his tone a gentle warning.

Dawn's face took on a mulish expression. "What? It's true."

"We don't know that."

"Wait," Xander said, stopping the incipient bickering. "What are you talking about?"

"Willow took me to see an evil sorcerer—" Dawn began, but Spike cut her off with a look.

"Red's gotten herself into some trouble." Spike sighed. "Look, you want to wait for the Slayer, you can."

Xander glared at him. "Sure. I'll wait for Buffy, and you can leave."

"'m not leavin'," Spike returned. "She asked me to wait for her."

"She doesn't need you around, Spike."

"No?" Spike asked. "Who was it that saved her from burning to death, Harris?"

"You're a dead weight, Spike." Xander's anger and guilt, as well as his vague fear of the changes he saw in his friend were focused on Spike. The vampire made such a handy target, after all.

"Xander, that's enough."

Buffy's quiet voice had him turning. "What happened, Buffy?"

She had a scrape down one cheek, and she looked tired. "Willow conjured up a monster that nearly killed both of us," she replied. "It wasn't pretty."

"Where's Red?" Spike asked.

"Right behind me." Buffy turned, and sure enough Willow came in the doorway behind her. She didn't speak, instead going right towards the stairs and heading up.

"Willow?" Xander called, worried when she didn't turn around. He looked at the Slayer. "Buffy, what happened?"

"I told you what happened, Xander," Buffy replied quietly. "Willow's going to be moving out."

"What? You're kicking Willow out?" Xander asked, incredulous. The Buffy he knew would never have kicked any of her friends out. He just didn't understand what was happening.

Buffy took a deep breath. The epiphany from the other night—whatever it had really meant—was standing her in good stead. It had been easier than she'd thought it would be to insist that Willow find her own place. She wasn't the one who had asked the girl to move in anyway. Yes, Buffy understood that Willow had done it to help out, but she wasn't paying rent, and her presence wasn't necessary any more.

Buffy had died to protect Dawn. She wasn't going to allow anything or anyone to cheapen that sacrifice. If she had to be in this world, she'd make certain that Dawn was around too.

"Willow made her choice when she put Dawn in danger." Buffy's voice was even, perfectly modulated. She'd moved past angry to numb at this point. "She can't stay here anymore."

"Where is she going to go?" Xander asked in disbelief.

"I don't know," she replied. "I imagine you can ask her tomorrow. I think I'm going to go to bed, though. It's late."

Xander stood stock still, unsure of what he ought to do next. He didn't get it. Willow had put Dawn in danger? She'd conjured up a monster that almost killed Buffy? Buffy was kicking her out?

"You're going to have to come by tomorrow, Xander," Buffy repeated, ushering him out the door, past Spike who was trying—rather unsuccessfully—to hide a smirk.

"What about him?" Xander asked, gesturing at the vampire.

Buffy just shook her head. "He and I need to talk." She gently pushed Xander out the door and shut it before he could protest again, sagging against it wearily.

"Better get to bed, Niblet," Spike said.

Her eyes went wide. "Spike! But—"

"Bed."

That one word had her moving. Buffy envied him his easy command. Dawn knew when she couldn't get away with pushing him further, but her sister seemed determined to question Buffy at every turn.

"You're hurt," Spike murmured, tilting her head so he could get a better look at the abrasion on her cheek.

"It'll be gone by tomorrow," Buffy said dismissively. "I'm fine."

His thumb stroked the skin just below, sending a tingle to her belly. "You alright?"

She knew what he was asking, and Buffy didn't know how to answer him. She wasn't alright. Buffy wasn't sure she'd ever be okay again. "Not really, but I guess there's nothing we can do about that, is there?"

She'd said "we." Spike wondered if that was as significant as it felt to him. "Oh, I don't know about that." He ran a hand down her hair. "Did you really want to talk?"

"No," she admitted. "But I thought you probably wanted to." Buffy turned to go into the kitchen, knowing that Spike would be close behind. "You were being crass, Spike."

Spike grimaced. "Yeah, well, what do you expect from me, Slayer? I'm a vampire."

"I don't buy that," Buffy shot back.

His eyebrows went up. "Excuse me?"

"Not about the vampire part," Buffy said impatiently, waving a hand to dismiss that idea. "I meant the other part. It's not like you're that way all the time."

"So you want me to change for you, is that it?" Spike asked, anger creeping into his tone. "Bloody hell, Buffy! I'm trying!"

"I know you are!" She shot back, frustrated that she couldn't get her point across. "And, no, I don't want you to change. I just wish..." Buffy trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"You wish what?" Spike asked, modulating his tone with difficulty. It helped to remember that she'd asked him to see Dawn safely home, and that she had asked him to stay even though Xander had been forced to leave.

She sighed. "Look, Spike, I would have said the same thing to any guy I was with who made a comment like that. It wasn't really about you. If you say crass things, I'll probably tell you not to be such a jerk."

Spike rolled his eyes, although he had to concede her point. "Does that mean I get to tell you when you're bein' a bitch?"

Buffy opened her mouth to make an angry reply, and then stopped. It was a fair question, even though she didn't want to give him the right answer. "What if I said no?" she asked hopefully.

He gave her a dirty look, although there was humor there as well. "Then I'd have to say you're being your usual holier-than-thou self."

"And then I'd have to come back with something really witty, but my brain is too tired for that tonight."

They were both smiling reluctantly at this point, and the tension had all but dissipated. Spike nodded. "Then I'll leave you to your bed, pet."

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For tonight."

Spike wasn't quite sure what part of the night Buffy was referring to since they'd gone from shagging in the cemetery to rescuing Dawn, but he didn't feel like asking. Maybe it was enough that she'd actually shown some gratitude for a change.

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you around."

Buffy watched as he let himself out her back door, biting back the urge to recall him. She wanted him to stay, to sleep with her, to tell her that she hadn't made the wrong decision. Her resolution had been so clear—it still was, in a way. Willow couldn't stay, not after the memory spell she had performed, and not after tonight's escapade. This was the right choice.

But why did it feel so wrong?

~~~~~

Willow laid in the darkness and seethed. Why couldn't Buffy understand that she had simply made a mistake? So she shouldn't have taken Dawn to Rack's. That had been bad. She hadn't been thinking straight.

Really, going to Rack's in the first place had been a bad decision. Taking the magical charge that he offered was the lazy way out. It was a rush, but it also meant that she had lost control. That's all that had happened. If she had been in control, Willow never would have summoned up that monster, and she certainly never would have put Dawn in danger.

And maybe she had taken Dawn to Rack's, but she had been there the whole time. Willow never would have let Dawn get hurt.

Now she had to scramble to find housing near campus. Buffy had given her a week to leave, and she'd intimated that she was being generous. Right. Generous would have been to forgive and forget, just like they always did for her.

She would have to talk to Xander tomorrow, make him understand what had really happened. He would be on her side, once she explained. He would see that she hadn't meant any harm.

Willow wondered what was going on between Spike and Buffy, and if that spark she'd seen between them had anything to do with Buffy's decision. This could be Spike's way of breaking the gang up again. He'd done it before, after all.

If that were what was going on, she'd fix it. Willow would fix him so he couldn't hurt Buffy or Dawn, or turn them against their friends.

She just had to figure out the perfect solution first.