Title: Past Glory Author: Sandy Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Spike/Buffy Spoilers: S5 up to Tough Love, AU after that although elements of S6 will appear throughout the story. Disclaimer: Alas, not mine, I just borrow them occasionally Feedback: Gives me the warm fuzzies A/N: For the purposes of this story, the Knights of Byzamtium, although suspecting that the Slayer is protecting the Key are not aware that Dawn is the Key. Chapter 34 Buffy nibbled at her bottom lip as she stared at the telephone. Should she call Angel? What would she tell him? Well, she could just tell him what she'd told everyone else – that she didn't know what had happened to Spike. Would Angel be able to tell she was lying? Probably. Taking a deep breath she decided she really didn't care and lifting the receiver, dialed. Days had passed. Spike remained in his coma and Buffy was sick with worry. He'd taken in no nourishment since the previous Friday evening and Spike was beginning to take on the sunken look he'd had when he'd first come to them after being chipped. She'd tried to get him to drink by holding a small glass of blood up to his lips, hoping the smell and taste of the blood would trigger an automatic response, but the blood had simply poured out of his mouth again. The line on the other end had just started ringing when Buffy heard a loud cry of distress coming from upstairs. Slamming down the receiver to race up the stairs, she never even heard the masculine voice say, "Angel Investigations." Spike was sitting up in bed, a look of pure anguish on his face, when Buffy burst into the room. "Spike, you're awake! Oh, thank god." She went to gather him into her arms when he bolted from the bed and hurled himself against the wall, quailing away from her. "Stay away from me!" Buffy halted, confused and hurt by his words. "Spike, it's me, Buffy." Holding out her hand in the same way one would reassure a frightened child, she slowly approached him. He recoiled from her outstretched hand, huddling in on himself and away from her. "Stay away from me! I don't want to hurt you." Buffy stopped, alarmed by his words. "You wouldn't hurt me, Spike. I know that." "I did," he choked, tears forming in his eyes. "I did hurt you. I hurt all of you." "No you haven't, she said in a confused voice. "I promise you, everyone's okay." She took a couple more steps closer to him. "You can see I'm okay, right?" Spike swallowed and then closed his eyes pressing the heels of his hands against his temples as a wave of pain flashed through his head. His knees buckled and he started to slide weakly down the wall. Buffy was beside him immediately, wrapping a supporting arm around his waist and lifting him up. "Come on, Spike. You need to get back to bed." Gently guiding him, she led him back to the bed and helped him in, propping pillows up against his back for support. He opened pain-filled eyes and asked, "What's wrong with me, Buffy? Why does my head hurt so much?" "We'll talk about that later. Right now, you need something to eat. You haven't eaten in almost a week." Going to the door of the bedroom she called out, "Dawn!" Spike's head whipped around to stare at her, wincing when pain lanced through his brain. "Dawn's all right? I didn't hurt her? I didn't... didn't drink her?" Buffy glanced back at Spike in shock. "God no, Spike. You'd pull your fangs out of your head with your own hands before you'd bite Dawn." Spike slumped in relief against his pillow. He was vaguely aware of Buffy talking, of Dawn's excited voice begging to see him, of Buffy's quiet but firm voice asking the girl to bring him blood, but it was all background noise to his own internal chant of, "I didn't kill her. I didn't kill her." Buffy returned to the bed and sat down on the mattress next to him. Taking one of his hands in hers she said, "Dawn's going to bring you some blood. You'll feel better once you've eaten." Spike simply nodded wearily, closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headboard. Buffy eyed him worriedly. She was becoming afraid that he was about to sink back into his coma when a knock sounded at the door and he immediately opened his eyes. Going to the door, she opened it only wide enough to take the tray Dawn held. "No," she told her sister, "you can see him later. He's kinda disoriented right now. Let him eat and when he's feeling better, you can come in, okay?" Shutting the door she placed the tray on the bedside table and lifted one mug of warm blood. Holding it to Spike's lips, she watched carefully to make sure he drank every drop. When he was finished, she fed him the next mug and then the next. By the time he'd finished eating, he looked much better. The sunken look was lessening, his eyes no longer looked glazed and they'd lost some of the pain and confusion they'd held only moments before. When his eyelids began to flutter, Buffy knew that this time it would be sleep and not a coma that he slipped into. *** He slept for several hours and when he awoke to a darkened bedroom, he felt stronger. The pain in his head had lessened to a dull headache, but he felt a deep gnawing hunger in his belly. He recognized the feeling and a bolt of fear shot through him. Getting out of bed, he located his clothes and quickly dressed. Exiting the bedroom, he descended the steps. Glancing into the living room, he was relieved to see all four girls alive and well, just as Buffy had assured him. It was Dawn who saw him first and she was off the couch and running to him in the space of a heartbeat. Flinging herself into his arms she hugged him and then pulling back, she punched him in the arm. He jerked away from her, automatically rubbing his arm although in truth the girl hadn't hurt him. "You big jerk," Dawn scolded. "You had us all worried sick. What happened to you?" Spike opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. Glancing at Buffy who sat tensely watching him, he said, "I-I'm not sure, Niblet. I'm not focusin' too clearly yet." Buffy stood up and walked over to him. "You hungry?" she asked. At his nod, she led the way into the kitchen. As he sat on a stool at the island, she said, "We've got fresh blood on hand. Willow stopped by the butcher's shop for me." Reaching into the refrigerator, she pulled out the container and then froze when he asked, "Buffy, what happened to me?" Buffy carefully kept her head turned away as she poured the blood into his mug and put it into the microwave to heat up. "What do you remember?" "Not much. I remember Xander going down and then you. I went for Warren and the chip went off and then I just remember pain. I think I remember waking up and Warren saying somethin' about my chip, but it's not clear. You said I was in a coma?" Buffy nodded as she removed the mug when the microwave beeped and handed it to him. When he merely held the mug and looked at her, she said, "You've been unconscious for almost a week. We've all been very worried about you." He lowered his eyes and lifted the mug to his lips. After drinking down the contents, he said, "Guess the chip really fried my brain this time." Watching Buffy as she refilled his mug, he said, "I had...dreams, I guess. Nightmares really." He closed his eyes at the memory and when he reopened them, they held a haunted look. "They seemed so real." Swallowing painfully, he continued, "I dreamed I killed you all. Everyone. You, Dawn, the witches, Xander and his demon girl." Lifting the mug with slightly shaking hands, he drained it quickly. As he lowered the mug he said with a wry smile, "Never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad I have that chip. Won't have to worry about that particular nightmare comin' true." Buffy took the empty mug from him. "You want some more?" At his nod, she filled it once again and stuck it in the microwave to heat. She stayed turned away from him, watching the mug spin on the turntable as if it were the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen. Spike frowned. He was getting avoidy Buffy vibes and her silence worried him. "Love?" Buffy sighed as she once again removed the mug and handed it to him. She'd considered for a few moments not telling him the truth, but she knew he needed to know. "You don't have the chip anymore, Spike. That Andrew kid summoned a demon. Willow said it was a Pockla. Anyway, it reached into your brain and pulled out the chip. That's why your head aches so much." Spike's hand jerked, spilling blood over the rim of the mug. "It's gone?" Buffy nodded, watching him intently. Spike sat in stunned silence. He lowered his eyes and realizing that he still held the mug, brought it to his lips and emptied it. His burning hunger was finally appeased at least. Lowering the empty mug, he said quietly, "What are we going to do about it? You gonna have Willow witch it back in?" "Can't. It's been destroyed." His eyes shot up to look into hers. "How?" "One of the nerd boys stepped on it on their way out of Dodge. We couldn't have used it anyway because Warren had altered its programming." "You let Warren go?" "No. The Pockla took him with it back to its own dimension. According to Willow, he'll wish I'd killed him instead." "Good." Spike stood up, walked over to the sink and rinsed out his mug. "I have to leave, Buffy," he said, not looking at her. Buffy shook her head. "I want you to stay here until you're completely better." Spike turned to face her. "Not just leave the house, Buffy. Leave Sunnydale." Buffy stiffened. "Why?" "Why?" Spike asked incredulously. "Buffy, I'm loose now. There's nothing stopping me from hurting you or the others. Just like in my vision." "You didn't have a vision, Spike," Buffy insisted, "You said it yourself. You had a nightmare. Nightmares aren't real. And as for nothing stopping you, you have yourself stopping you." Spike closed his eyes as he tried to think of the words to make her understand. "Buffy, love, listen to me," he pleaded. "Everything that happened in my vision felt real. It wasn't just a dream or a nightmare. I could taste the blood; smell the fear. It was real." "It wasn't real, Spike. We're all here. Alive." Grabbing his hand, she drew it to her chest and placed his palm against her breast. "Can you feel my heartbeat, Spike?" Spike closed his eyes as he felt her young, strong, healthy heart thumping against his hand. "You were in a coma," Buffy said to him softly. She reached up with her free hand and pulled his head down until their foreheads were touching. "You had an hallucination. A pretty horrible one, yes, but it wasn't real." Spike closed his eyes again, trying to gather his thoughts. "It seemed so real. Something...had me, controlled me. Used me to kill you all. Played with my memories so that I didn't remember us or Dawn. I didn't know who Tara or Anya were." "Spike, it was probably just...just your brain adjusting to the chip being gone. Taking you back to the time before you got caught and chipped by The Initiative. But when you woke up, you remembered everything, didn't you? You remembered you love me, right?" her voice was shaking slightly. He pulled her to him and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him, deepening the kiss. When they broke apart, Spike said, "I just don't ever want to take the chance of hurting any of you. If whatever I saw really was a vision and not just a dream, I need to go." "Stop calling it a vision, Spike," Buffy snapped impatiently. Pulling away from him, she said, "You're not a seer. It was only a stupid nightmare and you don't need to leave town just because you had a bad dream!" "Buffy, would you please listen to me? I don't want to leave. I'm just trying to protect you and everyone else. If I'm unstable, or if somethin's trying to use me, I don't want to be within a hundred miles of any of you." "So you're saying that instead of killing me and my friends, I should let you leave town so you can kill complete strangers?" "I didn't see myself killing strangers, Buffy. I saw myself killing you." "You know what I think?" she asked angrily. "I think you're using this nightmare thingy as an excuse so that you can leave. I think now that the chip is out you want to be free to hunt again." Tears formed in her eyes. "I think that everything you said to me about being more than a monster was just a lie. It think it was just something you said so you could get into my pants." Spike stared at her in shock, which quickly turned to anger. Turning away from her, he stalked from the kitchen. "Where do you think you're going," Buffy called after him. Hurrying to catch up to him, she was surprised when he headed straight to her weapon's chest, opened it up and took out a stake. Storming back over to her, he lifting her hand and slapped the stake into it. "If you believe that any part of what you just said is true, then use that, Buffy. Because god knows, I'd rather be dust than hurt you or go back on one single promise I made you." Completely oblivious to their audience, they stared at each other. "You are not leaving me," Buffy said flatly. "I don't want to leave you," he said again, his voice changing from angry to agonized. "I love you more than anything else in this world, Buffy. But I won't take the chance of hurting you or the others. Buffy tossed the stake onto the coffee table, took his head in her hands and drew his face down to hers for a tender kiss. "I love you too, you big dope. And I know with everything in me that you won't hurt anyone. You had nightmares because you had a brain injury. That's all they were." Kissing him again, she said, "We're safe as houses with you." He was looking at her with a completely besotted look on his face. Smiling shyly, he said, "That's the first time you've used the words, love." She smiled back at him. "I know. I mean them though." "Say them again." "I love you." "Say them again." "Please don't," a disgusted teenaged voice interrupted. "Geez, you guys are really sickening, you know that?" Surprised that someone else was around, they turned to look at their audience. Buffy blushed and pulled back a little from Spike. "Uh, sorry, guys." Making a show of checking her watch, she said, "Oh look, time for patrol. You ready, Willow?" "Sure," Willow said. She'd been watching the couple with great interest ever since they came into the living room. Turning back to Spike, Buffy said, "You probably should go back to bed if you've had enough to eat. I'll be home in a couple hours, okay?" "Sure, love. I'll be waiting for you." His look left her little doubt what he'd be waiting for. Blushing again, she quickly gathered her weapons and left with Willow. Dawn yawned and said, "Well, now that today's thrilling episode of "The Young and the Lame" is over, I think I'll go to bed too. Goodnight, guys." "Night, Niblet." "Goodnight, Dawnie," Tara echoed. Spike nodded to Tara and followed Dawn up the stairs. As soon as he entered the bedroom, a feeling of exhaustion overwhelmed him. He stumbled to the bed and fell face down across the mattress. He was instantly asleep. *** He awakened to find himself in an unfamiliar bedroom. A piercing pain lanced through his head and his belly growled with need. Rising catlike from the bed, he shifted into game face and stood listening, scenting the air. He was alone in the room, but the air was heavy with a scent that teased at his brain. Walking soundlessly to the door, he eased it opened. He could hear the faint sounds of movement on the floor below but all was quiet around him. Stealthily leaving the room, he made his way silently down the hall until he came to a closed door. Slowly turning the doorknob, he opened the door to find an unoccupied room. Again, scents almost familiar assailed his nostrils. Shaking his head in frustration at the elusive memory, he closed the door again and moved further down the hall to another door. This time when he opened the door, he found the room occupied. A young, dark-haired girl slept deeply on her virginal cot. A predatory smile crossed his face. Slipping inside the room, he carefully shut the door tightly behind him. tbc...