Subject: [SpikesSalvation] Friends and Strangers- Chapter 19
Date: Wed, 12 Nov 2003 16:46:39 -0800 (PST)
From: Jerusha Hancock <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com
To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com


April 11

Giles came to stand next to Buffy in the doorway of her living
room. He followed her eyes to the still figure on her couch.
"How is he?"

Buffy shook her head, fighting off tears. "Not good. Whatever
those things put on their blades is pretty effective on
vampires." She turned to look at her Watcher. "I don't think he
has much longer." She wrapped her arms around herself. "It just
doesn't seem right." They stood there in silence, and then Buffy
asked, "How's Rachel?"

Giles' grim visage lightened a bit. "She'll be fine. Her
heartbeat is steady. It looks like exhaustion. Maybe some sort
of burn out. But she'll be alright." He studied the dying
vampire. "How will she handle this?"

Buffy shook her head. "I'm not sure. Willow thinks she's in love
with him, which I could see. She's strong, but--" She stopped
when she noticed Spike moving. "I should sit with him. He
shouldn't have to be alone."

The Slayer stepped lightly over to the couch. They had lain him
on his side, and she sat on the floor to face him. His eyes
fluttered open, and his blue eyes, clouded with pain, met hers.
"Looks like the end of the line, eh, Slayer? Guess you'll be rid
of me for good this time."

"I never wanted to get rid of you, Spike," Buffy said quietly,
and when his look turned sardonic, she rolled her eyes slightly.
"Okay, so maybe 'never' is a little strong, but I haven't wanted
you gone in a long time." She reached over and tenderly brushed
a tendril of hair from his forehead. "It wasn't supposed to
happen like this."

He closed his eyes as a wave of pain overtook him, and then
shook his head slightly. "No. This is for the best, Buffy.
When-" he gritted his teeth. "When Rachel went and asked the
powers for information the first time, they said someone was
going to get hurt. Better it happen to me than to anyone else."

Buffy stared at him, her eyes turning angry. "You knew this was
going to happen? And you didn't say anything?"

He chuckled weakly. "Nothing you could do about it, luv. We
didn't know who or when, just that somebody might get hurt. You
know the problem with predictions and prophecies. They're always
too vague to do anybody any good."

Buffy bit her lip. He'd saved Xander's hide, a fact that they
were all well aware of, and had willingly sacrificed for someone
he didn't even really care for that much. "Spike, I have
something to tell you."

"Little late to confess undying love, Slayer," he said,
smirking.

Buffy restrained the urge to slap him. "I just wanted to say--I
forgive you, Spike. And I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for
the way I treated you, and I wish things could have been
different."

He stared at her in shock, and then an expression of peace
washed over his face. For a moment, he looked like a boy again,
years' worth of anguish washed away with those few words. When
Buffy saw it, she could only wish she'd been able to give him
that peace months ago, when she'd first discovered that she had
forgiven him. "Ta, luv," he whispered. "Means more to me than
you know." His eyes drifted shut, and he sank back into sleep.

"Oh, Spike," Buffy said, leaning her head against the couch. She
reached over for his hand and laced her fingers with his.

~~~~~

Rachel stepped shakily down the stairs of the Summers' home.
She'd woken to find herself in Buffy's bed, and could feel the
tug on her consciousness. "Not long," she'd realized as soon as
she woke. "He doesn't have long."

Taking a deep breath, she took the last stair and moved towards
the living room, intent upon her goal. A hand on her arm
startled her, and she looked at Giles in surprise. "You should
be resting," he said sternly.

Rachel shook her head stubbornly. "Spike's dying. I have to see
him."


The Watcher seemed a bit taken aback that she knew, but her
blunt words caused him to retreat slightly. "Of course."

With the careful movements of an invalid, Rachel walked over to
the couch where Spike lay, Buffy still seated next to him.
Rachel put a tentative hand on the other girl's arm. "Would you
mind--could I have some time alone with him?"

Buffy looked up and saw the pain in her eyes. She knew that kind
of pain too well herself. "Yeah, sure," she said
sympathetically. "He's in and out of it, though."

Rachel nodded. "That's fine." Buffy gripped her shoulder kindly
as she left and joined Giles in the doorway.

"Come on," Rachel heard Buffy say as she led the older man into
the kitchen. The girl sat down next to the couch in the same
place Buffy had been. With a gentle hand, Rachel placed her hand
on Spike's face. She didn't have much strength left, but she had
enough to give him a little relief, she thought. She pushed the
pain back and watched as his eyes opened.

As she looked at him, she knew what she had to do. There was no
longer a question in her mind. What was a life worth? A life was
worth everything. His life was worth everything. "I want to give
you a gift, William," she whispered.

His eyes widened as he took in her meaning. "You can't, Rachel.
Not for me. I'm not worth it."

"If you're worth my love, then you're worth my gift," she
replied. "But it means you'll be human. My gift brings life
where there's death. You'll be alive again. Do you want it?"

Spike understood that she was giving him the choice. She
wouldn't force it upon him. "You make the decision, luv," he
said hoarsely. "I know you'll make the right one."

She nodded in reply and shut her eyes, concentrating. This time
she came as a supplicant for the last time, and so she called
from where she sat. She let her despair echo forth from her
mind, and soon a blue light began to fill the room. It washed
over the pair, over the walls and the furniture until it filled
every corner. Spike felt nothing but a sense of peace as it
brightened and glowed in concentrated form right in front of
Rachel. It transformed itself into a pillar, and then took on
the shape of a woman. A woman he recognized from his dream.
Rachel was speaking next to him, "I come to you as a supplicant
today."

"I have heard your supplication, and I know your desire. Is this
truly what you wish?" Spike thought her voice was like bells,
and while he heard all her words clearly, it wasn't until many
years later that he completely understood all of what she'd
said.

"It is. I have made my decision." Her voice was full of a
terrible joy, the joy of making the right decision even though
it would cost her dearly.

"And you know that his heart is not yours?"

Rachel shut her eyes. "I love him enough to let him go. I want
him to be happy."

A sense of joy filled the room so clearly that Spike thought he
might weep with the exquisite pain of it. "Very well. You would
have been the best of us, my daughter." She turned to Spike.
"Will you accept her sacrifice? You will be no more, and no less
than any other man. You will live out your days as a human and
will die and become as dust. You will grow old. Is this a fate
acceptable to you?"

"We all die," he said. "I will accept her gift."

She smiled at him. "Then I wish you peace and a long life,
William." And with this, she placed one hand on her daughter's
head and one hand on his chest. His chest tingled and then
burned, he burned from the top of his head right down to his
toes. He felt it in every cell of his body, but it was a
glorious sort of pain, as though he were becoming new, as though
he were being reborn, regenerated. And in a flash, it was over,
and the woman was gone, her last words lingering in his ear.
"Take care of my baby, William. Be well."

~~~~~

"How is he?" Xander asked as Buffy and Giles walked into the
kitchen.

Buffy rubbed a hand over weary eyes. "Not good. I don't think
he's got much longer. Rachel's with him now, though."

Xander's eyes were haunted by the knowledge that Spike was dying
because of him. Such a feeling was never comfortable. "How's
Rachel?"

Giles began cleaning his glasses on his handkerchief. "She's
weak, but she'll recover." There was silence in the kitchen, the
painful feeling of waiting for someone to die. Anya reached over
and took Xander's hand, silent for once. Dawn stood over at the
counter, leaning against Willow, her arms wrapped tightly
against herself. She had just gotten used to Spike being around
again, and now he was leaving permanently. With an abruptness
unique to teenagers, she pulled away from Willow and headed
towards the living room.

"Dawn," Buffy called, going after her. She thought it only fair
to give Rachel some time along with the dying vampire, but she
stopped next to her sister at the doorway. Which was glowing a
faint bluish color. "Giles? I think you'd better come see this."

Giles appeared shortly, as did the rest of the gang, and they
all stared at the brightly glowing blue light in the other room.
The Watcher put out his hand to touch it, and found it harmless
but quite impenetrable. "We're not going to get in, Buffy," he
said as she put up a hand to push through.

In front of their amazed eyes, the figure of a woman appeared,
and it seemed as though she was talking to Spike and Rachel,
though they could not hear what she was saying. Then, she put
her hands on both of them, and the light became an arc between
the vampire and the girl, glowing so brightly that they had to
shield their faces. When they opened their eyes again, the
living room was empty except for Spike and Rachel, who both
seemed to be unconscious. Buffy was the first to move, kneeling
by Rachel's side. "Rachel?"

The girl's eyes opened immediately. "Spike? Is he breathing?"

Buffy thought she was delirious. "Honey, vampires don't
breathe," she said gently, knowing that he wasn't dead because
he wasn't dust. Ignoring her, Rachel scrambled up weakly and
lurched to Spike's side. With a quick motion, she flipped him
over on his back and thumped him twice on the chest, hard. Buffy
reached out to grasp her arm to restrain her, thinking she'd
gone crazy for sure. But before the Slayer's astonished eyes,
Spike drew in a deep gasping breath of air.

The next few minutes were a tableau of stunned silence. It
seemed the only one able to move was Spike, who was not only
completely healed, but seemed to be completely insensible to the
fact that he was alive and wasn't supposed to be. His first
priority was Rachel, who had lapsed back into unconsciousness
after seeing and hearing him breathe. He frantically checked her
pulse, relieved to find it steady and strong under his fingers.
Xander's strong hand gripped his shoulder, and Spike looked up
in surprise. "Let's get her upstairs, to Buffy's bed." The
carpenter smiled a bit. "She's a bit incoherent right now, but I
don't think she'll mind."

Spike looked at the others, and could see the questions forming
in their minds. He knew that it wouldn't be long before they all
came out in a flood. "Later," he said to the group in general.
"I need to take care of Rachel first."

He lifted her easily, unsure if it was because she weighed so
little or if her mum had left him with a little more strength
than was common to men in general. Moving up the stairs, he left
the little group behind, Xander at his heels, and laid her in
Buffy's bed. Giles, who seemed to have regained most of his
composure, followed after, and quickly checked her over. "She
seems to be fine, Spike," he said quietly. "She was exhausted
before she did whatever she did to you, so I would imagine this
is merely temporary until she regains her strength."

Spike nodded. "I should stay with her," he said, and was
surprised once again to find Xander's hand on his arm.

"I'll sit with her," the other man said quietly. "You should get
something to eat before you fall over, and the others will have
questions. She probably won't wake up for a while anyway."

The former vampire nodded reluctantly, and allowed Giles to take
him by the arm and lead him out of the room. The next hour or so
consisted of a series of rapid-fire questions, which Spike
answered as best he could, and eating a couple peanut butter and
jelly sandwiches. They weren't his favorite, but Xander had been
right. He'd been hungry enough to eat just about anything,
except, perhaps, for blood. He was beginning to understand all
over again why humans looked so disgusted at the thought.

Once the bigger questions had been answered, however, Spike made
his escape upstairs to Rachel's bedside. Part of him was afraid
that whatever she'd done for him, the gift she'd given him, had
damaged her forever. So he sat with her, wanting nothing more
than for her to wake so that he could--thank her? Were thanks
enough? What did one say to the person who not only saved your
life, but gave it to you? With these questions in his mind, he
finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning.

~~~~~~

Buffy saw him stretched out along the side of the bed, one
long-boned arm thrown across Rachel's knees. It was strange as
she watched him breathe, his chest moving up and down, a pink
flush in his cheeks where none had been before. He would always
be fair, she could tell, but he had the blush of life on his
face now, where before he had been pale as death.

And he was young. With a shock, she realized that the being they
had seen, Rachel's mother, had returned him to the age he was
when he was turned, probably no more than twenty-four or five.
Biologically speaking, at least, he was her age, and that, too,
was odd to think of, because he'd always struck her as being
old, just as Angel had, the weight of years on them both.

He stirred and looked up at her, smiling, and for a moment he
was both a friend and a stranger. She had known the vampire; did
she know the man at all? Then he looked at the steaming mug in
her hands and cocked one scarred eyebrow, and suddenly he was
simply Spike again. "Please tell me that's not blood, luv."

"It's not," she said smiling. "Coffee, actually." She handed it
to him and watched as he breathed in the scent of it. "I thought
you might need it."


"Well, you were right about that. Didn't sleep so well last
night," he admitted, and she realized that his eyes were
bloodshot and there were dark circles underneath.

Buffy looked at him and then asked suddenly, "Have you looked
outside yet?"

Spike cocked his head to the side and gave her a puzzled smile.
"No. Why?"

Without responding, Buffy went to her window and pulled the
blinds, allowing sunlight to stream inside. No one had thought
to take him outdoors yesterday while it was still light, but
Buffy had recognized that he had not yet experienced the full
force of his humanity. He jumped back slightly, mostly out of
habit, and then stepped closer to the window, allowing the light
to fall over him fully. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"You should go outside, maybe take a walk. It really is a
beautiful day."

Spike looked at her, the strangest look on his face, as though
he were trying not to cry, and then he looked over at Rachel's
sleeping figure. Buffy gave him a little shove. "Go. I'll sit
with her. Just enjoy it. You didn't get much of a chance
yesterday."

"Thanks, luv," he replied, almost in a daze. "S'pose I will."

~~~~~

He walked under the sun as a man for the first time in over a
century, feeling as though he'd been set free. Spike had been a
poet, once upon a time, and beauty called to him like a siren.
For years, he had drunk in the beauty of the night, the silver
of moonlight and the warm, rich scents of night-blooming
flowers. Contented with that, he had scorned the day, convinced
it had nothing better to offer him. But now, smelling the
freshly cut grass and the perfume of roses, feeling the gold of
sunlight and seeing the patterns of light and shade, feeling
unafraid that the next moment could be his last should the cloud
move or the wind blow the trees; there was beauty here as well.
He saw children playing in the park, shrieking in their play,
and he felt a sudden stab of joy, that he would not be the
bogeyman in their nightmares on this night, nor any in the
future.

Spike spent the day walking the streets of Sunnydale, through
the parks, around near the high school and finally to his crypt.
Looking around briefly, he began to throw things into his
duffel: clothes, books, a few odds and ends. Some of his


He sensed them before he saw them. They were fledglings, most
likely, walking loudly enough to wake the dead under their feet,
and there were four.  He felt a thrill of fear and a rush of
adrenaline, and the stake was in his hand before he knew he'd
grabbed it. With a shout of laughter, he realized that his limbs
had forgotten none of their old magic, that all the knowledge
and skill he'd gained in a century of living was still intact,
and that he'd been left at least some fraction of his former
strength. It was over in moments, and he found himself grinning
foolishly at the dust already dispersing on the wind. Slinging
his duffel back over his shoulder, he went along his way,
whistling a merry little tune.

~~~~~

Buffy heard the front door open, and knew who it was even before
she heard his voice. "I'm in here, Spike," she called from the
kitchen.

"How'd you know it was me, pet?" he asked, more cheerful than
she'd ever seen him before. Or at least more cheerful than she'd
seen him since he'd gotten the chip in his head.

"I'd know those footsteps anywhere," she replied, turning to
greet him "How was your walk? You were gone a while."

He shrugged slightly and leaned up against the island. "Got
caught up in the day." He smiled, and it was an odd smile for
him, no trace of a smirk to it. "Haven't felt like that in
years." He looked at her sharply, and the familiar Spike was
back. "How's Rachel?"

"Giles is driving her home. She woke up a couple hours ago,
pretty much back to normal, though maybe a little weak. She was
happy you were outside enjoying the day." Buffy studied him for
a moment. "How does it feel, Spike? To be human, I mean."

He ran a hand over and through his hair. "Doesn't feel all that
different really, except it's like all the pieces of me fit now.
Like I'm not fighting against myself anymore. Don't know if
that's a lot of bollocks or not, but that's what it seems like."
Spike smirked. "Though I will tell you it's going to be a bit of
bother to get used to some of this other stuff you humans take
for granted. Eating all the time, needin' to use the loo at a
moment's notice. Could have lived without that, I'll tell you."

"You humans, huh?" Buffy challenged slyly. "Shouldn't it be us
humans now?" She punched him playfully in the arm, and he looked
at her with blue eyes that seemed to go on forever. She froze.
Seeing her reaction to the look in his eyes, he backed off just
slightly.

"Sorry, Buffy," he said. "I thought--maybe--" He broke off
midsentence just as the front door opened.

"Buffy?" Giles' voice came floating through the house, and Spike
turned to look at her, determination in his eyes.

"I'll be right back, luv," he said. "I need to talk to Giles
about some things."

When he'd left the room, Buffy leaned back against the counter,
wondering if she was just being stupid. All she'd have to do was
say the word, and he'd stick around forever. Her biggest excuse
for not wanting him to stay was gone, very neatly done away with
by Rachel's waving of the magic wand. But she was scared. She'd
been in love before, and it hadn't felt like this; and even
though she trusted him with her life, there were still years of
baggage between the two of them. Somehow she just couldn't bring
herself to say the words, and while half of her heart told her
she was doing the right thing, the other half told her she was
being a complete idiot. She listened to the first half, as she
always had where it concerned Spike.

Buffy heard the front door open and close, and she found herself
facing Giles. "He's leaving, isn't he?" she asked quietly.

Giles nodded. "He feels that it would be best. I've encouraged
him to talk to the Council. His knowledge will be invaluable to
us, and it's been quite a while since he's been to England. I'm
to call the Council tonight, and they should have the paperwork
ready in a few days. We'll both leave then."

"Oh." Buffy was far from happy, though there had been times when
she thought she'd dance for joy when she heard Spike was leaving
for good.

"Why don't you come to England this summer?" Giles suggested.
"It would do you good to get away from here, travel a bit. You
haven't been able to do much of that at all."

She shook her head. "I've got duties here, responsibilities. I
can't just leave."

He smiled. "Actually, I spent quite some time talking to Rachel
about that. Apparently, the moving between dimensions and all
that broke some kind of code. To balance things out, Rachel was
allowed to place a seal on the Hellmouth. She admitted she
didn't know how long it would last, but seemed to think it might
be as long as a generation, though that in itself is a vague
description." Giles reached over to touch her hand. "The point
is, you won't be tied here any longer, unless you choose to
stay. Sunnydale will probably continue to have its problems, but
no worse than any other town in this country."

"You really mean it?" Buffy asked, incredulously.

"Yes. I should think both you and Dawn would have a marvelous
time."

Buffy considered for another second. "All right. England, here I
come."

Giles rolled his eyes, lips twitching a bit. "What have I done?"

~~~~~

Spike went to Rachel's house, knowing that she had a bed for him
and that he had little time to spend with her before he would
have to leave. He let himself in with his key, and lay his
duffel next to the couch. All was quiet, and there weren't any
lights on, so he figured Rachel was in bed already. Realizing he
was a bit grimy, and that it had been entirely too long since
his last shower, he grabbed a change of clothes and stepped into
the bathroom. Having gotten himself cleaned up, Spike went to
bed and slept both deeply and dreamlessly.

The next morning, he rose and dressed, suddenly anxious about
seeing Rachel. He came out of his room reluctantly and made his
way to the dining room. She stood at the stove in her old
pajamas, fixing what looked to be eggs on the range. "There's
coffee in the pot if you'd like," she offered.

"Thank you," he said, and he wasn't talking about the coffee.

She stiffened. "It was my choice, Spike," she said quietly. "You
don't have to thank me."

"It's tradition when someone saves your life, duchess," he
replied.

"Well, we're even now, then." Her voice was almost harsh, and he
laid a tentative hand on her shoulder.

"Rachel? Is everything all right?"

"Are you really happy, Spike? Is this what you wanted or was I
just being selfish?"

Her questions stunned him. "First of all, luv, I don't think you
have a selfish bone in your body. And second, no this wasn't
what I wanted because it wasn't something I thought I'd ever
have. But I don't mind. 'Sides, your mum left me with a bit of
my old strength. It's not like I'm a complete poof."

That got a startled giggle, and she turned to hug him. "You
couldn't be a poof if you tried, Spike."

"And you?" he asked. "You lost your gift, didn't you?"

She smiled. "Yeah, or at least it's a lot weaker. More like it
was when it was first coming on. General feelings of knowing if
I can trust someone or not, pretty much along the lines of a
hunch. Mom left something for me, too. Can you feel it?"

Spike frowned, concentrating, and realized what she was talking
about. The connection between the two of them was still intact,
and just as strong as it had ever been. "Guess you'll still be
able to find me, duchess."

"Guess so." She turned back to check on the eggs she'd left in
the pan. Spike decided to tell her before he lost all courage
and ran out of time.

"I'm leaving," he said.

"I know." She went about the business of putting their
breakfasts on plates.

"Going to London with Giles to see the bloody Council of
Wankers. I'm not coming back to Sunnydale." He knew she
understood, but he could feel her disappointment.


"I know." She put both plates on the table, not meeting his
eyes.

"Duchess," he said, catching her arm and turning her to face him
in the tight space between the table and kitchen. "I'm sorry."

"I know that too, Spike." There were tears shining in her eyes,
but she stubbornly refused to let them fall. "I never thought
you would stay."

He smiled at her, trying to make a joke of it. "Well, if you're
ever in London, look me up, luv. You'll be welcome any time."

"Well, if you're ever in Sunnydale, same goes," she said. They
looked into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity,
and Spike saw a shadow falling over her. Before he could speak
of it, she asked some question about his walk of the day before,
and turned their minds to other matters. Like so many things
about her, it only made sense years later.

---------------------------------