Every Little Bit Hurts
By: Schehrezade
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Extreme Language,
Character Death, Rape/Attempted, Sexual Situations, Violence
Feedback: Craved in the most unbecoming manner: Schehrezade_1@hotmail.com
Be warned I have gone a very different route
with a couple of characters infact Megan commented I was making her
hate one of them and was excited as usually Tara is a sympathetic
character. But in this fic her lover is a vampire and she feels that
they were all abandoned by Buffy, alone and vunerable to attack so she
is reacting to that - I hope it works.
Chapter 6
"Are you sure we're in the right place?" Buffy hissed at Spike, her
eyes never leaving the violent tableau they had stumbled over.
"If this isn't the Hellmouth, then I'll eat the Desoto," Spike rumbled.
"Nice moves though, wonder who the hell...bloody hell, is that the
whelp?"
Buffy did a classic double take at the size of one of her best friend's
kicking the ass of a demon without barely breaking a sweat. "When did
Xander get all with the fighty goodness?" She stared in shock as Xander
exchanged a brief quip with one of the black clad men and then with an
unrelenting overhand swing, cut off the two heads of his opponent.
"Whoa, that was kinda impressive. Usually Xander is the one on the
ground being stomped on by the demon, not the one with the nifty axey
movage."
"Oi, stop ogling the git – you're mine, remember?" Spike reached over
and pinched her firmly on the backside, a lopsided grin curling his
full lips. For once in his unlife he felt confident of his woman's
affections and surprised himself by being able to tease her.
Buffy pressed herself against his side, and batted her lashes at him.
"I know, honey, but a girl can be all with the surprised – cos the last
time I saw Xander, he was starting to lose the battle of the twinkie
inhalation."
Spike dropped a feather soft kiss on her temple, secretly relieved that
she was relaxed enough to play. All the way up, the two of them had
been wrapped in moments of silence and worry about what they would have
to confront on their return. Spike's main concern was the new position
in his slayer's life and whether or not her sanctimonious friends would
accept it. Buffy, he knew, was filled with grief and fear over
returning to the place where her family had died and left her alone and
bereft.
"Have to admit the bugger's slimmed down and toughened up." Spike
watched as Xander spun gracefully to face a new opponent. He made a
move to go join him, only to be stopped by a firm hand.
"Wait, I wanna see what they do together," Buffy whispered and pulled
him back into the shadows of the trees. The two blonds watched as the
four men fought together, slicing and dicing anything that came near.
"Not bad. Never thought I'd say that but the boy's a good fighter.
Can't work out who the other blokes are though."
Buffy's eyes narrowed as on of them turned and bellowed out a warning
to Xander. "Watcher boys," she muttered.
"Do what?" Spike tilted his head and sniffed the air, his ears
straining to hear their voices. "Ruddy hell..."
"Yeah, that too. Check out the guy over there. Is that who I think it
is?" Buffy pointed at the ferrety looking man seated in the black
armoured car by the cemetery entrance, clutching tensely at the
steering wheel.
"Right. Now I know that we've slipped into the Twilight zone. That's
m'barkeep!" Spike stared in utter shock at Willy as he twitched
apprehensively in the van. His head whipped round as he felt Buffy curl
in on herself. "None of that missy, not putting up with the guilts."
"Look, though...if I hadn't, if we hadn't..."
"Left?" A familiar voice interrupted Buffy. The two of them whirled
around, hands fisted and raised defensively.
"Peace." Tara waved a hand and theirs laxly dropped to their sides.
"Hey, Buffy." She managed to force a crooked smile onto her face and
give the stationary slayer a small wave. "Spike." Tara folded her hands
together and nodded at the unusually silent vampire. A sense of
gravitas filled the cold night air.
"Tara?" Buffy stared at the grim faced Wiccan in shock. Gone were the
floaty dippy hippy skirts and shirts. Instead she was dressed in jeans
and a thick charcoal grey polo necked sweater, her long hair pulled
back in a tight bun and her gaze firm and assessing.
"Glinda?" Spike stared at her, his sharp gaze missing nothing. Grief
and anger emanated from her in waves, it's strength calling to his
demon for vengeance on her behalf. Her usually soft face was shadowed
with lines of anger and the grief within, and it changed her complexion
to something hovering between all out fury and pure misery. His mouth
softened and his eyes took on a gentle look Reaching out, he tried to
grasp hold of her hand and failed as she tucked them into her pockets.
"What happened, pet?"
"Buffy? Oh my god! Buffy?" Xander's voice interrupted the uneasy
tableau. "I missed you, are you okay?" Before any of the blonds could
move or say anything, Xander wrapped his arms around Buffy and spun her
around in the air laughing. "You have no idea how good it is to see
you...even you, fangless."
Weatherby, Collins and Smith appeared behind the embracing friends, all
of them holstering weapons. None of them removing their sharp eyes from
the vampire flanking the Slayer and her friends, Collins kept a stake
clutched loosely in his fingers, alert and ready to move.
"Surprised you came back. The boss told us you'd earned the right to
retire." Weatherby nodded at Buffy, who was now back on her feet and
staring curiously at the three of them.
A faint line appeared between her eyes. "I know you guys from
somewhere."
"Should do. You chucked me through a skylight-- you and the other
Slayer." Smith rubbed the back of his head in rueful memory.
"Look, I think we need to take this indoors, and we better retrieve the
shivering ninny before he legs it with my motor." Weatherby gestured
with his chin towards the van and walked off without a backward glance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh I knew it! Buffy, you're alive!" Anya threw herself
enthusiastically into the stunned slayer's arms.
The three men moved around The Magic Box with an air of familiarity
that was adding to Buffy and Spike's confusion. Too little had been
said on the drive back. Even Willy had been unusually recalcitrant; the
newcomers, picking up on the unsaid subtext, had kept quiet and waited.
The journey had been filled with silence and many glances being
exchanged by them all. Buffy's already stressed nerves were strung even
tighter by the time Willy dropped them off and scurried off into the
night.
Buffy patted Anya on the back awkwardly, unused to being hugged by the
ex-demoness and not too sure how to handle the sobbing armful of Anya
that she was currently sporting. Xander moved over and gently extracted
Anya. He curled an arm around her and led the still weeping girl over
to the table and sat her down. His deep voice was soft and reassuring
as he talked to her, calming her down, his hands busy stroking her hair
and face in smooth even strokes.
"I say, this is a turn up for the books!" A new voice filled the
silence. Buffy and Spike's heads shot up to the balcony and in unison
their brows arched in surprise. The newcomer could be nothing but a
watcher, dressed in a tweed suit and with long curly black hair tied
back in a messy ponytail at the base of her neck. Curious brown eyes
peered over a pair of half moon reading glasses as the woman slowly
made her way down the metal ladder, a pronounced limp becoming apparent
as she made her way down to the shop floor. When she reached the floor,
her hand reached out and grasped the cane leaning against the ladder
and she limped slowly towards Buffy and Spike.
"Hello. I'm Gemma, you are Buffy and I believe you're William the
Bloody, aka Spike." The young woman thrust out her hand and smiled
broadly. "What a delight to meet you both." She took Spike's hand and
shook it vigorously and then in turn took Buffy's, repeating her
enthusiastic handshaking. "I really have heard so very much about you
both. Did you know you're both standard reading for all Watchers In
Training."
Buffy edged closer to Spike, unconsciously wanting to protect him from
the limping watcher. She could sense the others moving around and
settling into established routines. Anya had returned to her side and
clinging to her hands, her engagement ring cutting into Buffy's flesh.
'Whoa! Engagement ring?'
"Anya!" she exclaimed and held up the ex-demoness's hand to let Spike
see the small diamond glittering. A bolt of excitement shot through her
and Buffy turned her wide smiling eyes to Xander. "Oh Xander, lookat
you all growed up!"
"I know, it is the perfect ring. Xander wants to marry me. Can you
believe it? Me!" she squealed excitedly.
Before Buffy could do more than hug Xander and Anya, the three silent
men returned and sat down at the circular table, joining a quiet Tara
and Gemma. Both women were watching the dynamics between the two
blonds. Neither of them had missed the scarring on the erstwhile
slayer's neck, or the way the
two of them interacted.
It was Buffy's innocent question that shifted the moment of glee to a
more sober note. "Where's Willow?" With those two words everything
shifted and the mood darkened. Anya's shoulders shot up defensively;
Xander's face took on a pallid cast and Tara's eyes flashed angrily.
"Wondered when you would notice," she muttered under her breath. The
angry Wicca only calming down slightly when Xander placed a gentle hand
on her rigid shoulder.
"I think you may want to be seated. A lot has happened since you left."
Gemma gestured to the empty seats.
"So it'd appear," Spike muttered. His sharp eyes missed nothing. The
air of tension that now filled the room was setting his hackles on edge
and he pulled Buffy to his side. "What the hell is going on?"
"Willow...Wills..." Xander looked down at his hand, and realised he was
clutching Tara's shoulder, trying to anchor himself. He didn't want to
tell Buffy what had happened to their best friend. He knew part of her
would blame herself for what had happened and that was wrong. She
wasn't to blame. Buffy had lost everything and there was no way he was
going to add to her misery and nor was anyone else. He ruefully
acknowledged to himself that a few months ago he'd have been very
different, bitching at her for her choices and for abandoning them to
their own fate. But what a difference a month or two makes. He could
see Buffy for who she really was, much like Spike did. A young girl who
had shouldered the weight of the world on her slender frame for far
longer than anyone should. She had finally been able to escape and
there was no way he was going to damage her fragile psyche. He loved
her too much for that.
"The young girl was turned by a vampire," Weatherby interjected. He
realised that it was better that a stranger handled this announcement,
the Slayer's friends were barely able to mention the girl's name, let
alone attempt to dust her. He and the others had agreed that when they
got a chance, one of them would do it. That way there would be no
recriminations or wavering; she was a feral demon and not the girl that
these people were mourning. He had his orders from Travers—maintain the
balance on the Hellmouth and if the Slayer was to return, work with her
and not against her. Well she was back and he was guessing for some
reason other than a nice visit to have a cuppa and catch up on the
latest traumas that the core group had suffered.
Spike wrapped an arm around Buffy's hunched shaking shoulders; she had
curled in on herself despite his hopes. He stared over at Tara's
implacable face, a frown cutting across his brows. "When?"
"Same day as...well...Dawnie," Anya whispered sadly.
"What?" Buffy's head shot up. A wild look filled her tear soaked eyes
as she scanned the faces opposite her. Her brain shut down as images of
Dawn's last few minutes flashed through her mind. She had slowly put
herself back together after that horrific day and now it was all coming
back to haunt her with a vengeance that was winding, leaving her
clutching at her chest for a moment
"As far as we can tell, she was turned in the morgue. She went to check
on you and Dawn and never came back." Tara's voice was measured and
filled with a suppressed rage. "Where were you? Why didn't she find
you? What happened in there? We found Dawn, but then you were gone. The
house was sold and then nothing."
"But there were no vamps in there. Spike and I got rid of the one
who...who..."Buffy ignored Tara's demanding questions, a small part of
her frazzled mind noting that her friend's stutter was long gone. All
of them had been changed that day - and not for the better. Buffy hung
her head in despair; she felt Anya's thin fingers drop onto her leg and
give her a reassuring squeeze, offering silent support and comfort.
"Yeah, no nasties in there. I would've sensed it," Spike interrupted
before Buffy said the words. He hated them and refused to hear them
fall from her lips, not again. Was bad enough having to come back to
the scene of her sister's death, but his girl was finally healing and
he didn't want her to say it again. Not after all those weeks of her
screaming and crying for her sister and mother. The horrors of the
nightmares falling from her lips as she clutched at him, terror
haunting her red rimmed eyes as she let the words tumble from her
mouth. He had not wanted to come, but as soon as they had realised that
the green-eyed bastard was not dust, there had been no choice. He had
to be destroyed for what he'd done to the Bit and now for Red. "Never
thought he'd have the same talent as Drac..."
Spike looked at Tara and before he could say anything she stood
abruptly, her chair falling backwards with a loud crash. Xander leapt
out of the way with a yelp. Tara looked over at Buffy and then stared
at Spike without a hint of the compassionate girl he'd punched on the
nose only a short while ago. "I have to go, I can't stay here. Buffy,
I'm sorry. I...I...I'll see you tomorrow?" With that she vanished in a
flicker of an eye. All that remained was a smell of burnt cordite.
Spike's scarred brow shot up at her display of power. "Seems like
Glinda's got a mite bit more going on in the mojo department these
days," he commented laconically, slouching back in his chair and
looping his thumbs in his belt buckle. He noticed the three Watcher
boys exchange a glance and lean forward almost in unison. Their
military training apparent in the deftness of their moves and their
almost symbiotic behaviour.
"She's been working with Anya and I, strengthing herself. She's come on
in leaps and bounds since that day." Gemma fiddled with her cane and
met Spike's eyes unflinchingly. "We've all needed to be on guard since
he began to make waves around here." Absently she rubbed her leg,
trying to ease the stiffness. "He's strong and unpredictable and unlike
any other demon I have ever come across or read about."
"He gotta a name?" Spike focused on the woman, taking in her soft
features. There was something about her, but he couldn't quite put his
finger on it yet.
"Not that we know of. No one knows where he came from, how old he is or
even how he managed to get all the power at his beck and call. It's
very frustrating."
"He hides behind his minions; has a habit of turning ones with some
power be it magical or martial. We've been on damage control since we
got here. He's a savvy bastard." Smith ran his fingers through his
thinning hair tiredly.
Buffy sat there frozen, guilt filling her. If she hadn't left, Willow
wouldn't be dead. It was all her fault. She was cursed; death was her
gift to all that knew her. Only one who was safe around her was Spike--
and that was because he was already dead. Her face turned white as her
mind tried to accept that her redheaded friend was gone, now replaced
with a repellent demon. They'd all had first hand experience with vamp
Willow in the past and Buffy was praying this incarnation was not as
feral. She couldn't say anything; instead, she clutched onto Spike's
hand and stared blindly ahead.
"Don't get it. I killed the bastard." Spike rubbed his chin as he
unwillingly recalled the events of that day. He reached over and took
Buffy's shaking hand and squeezed it, trying to reassure her.
"Well, he must have something to bring him back. He's an odd bugger is
all we can work out," Collins commented, his hands busy sharpening the
stiletto dagger on a whetstone he'd retrieved from the training room.
"Nothing like any other vamp we've ever come across before."
"How so?" Spike's rough voice took on a more polished edge as he
snapped out the question. Both he and Buffy dreaded the answer; they
already knew what was coming.
"Well he has very funny looking eyes, a brilliant emerald green," Gemma
explained. She reached for a folder and began to pull out reams of
paper and a series of pictures taken from the security videos at the
shop. "This is all I have so far. We managed to get images only the
other day. He seems to be a very reclusive type, relying on minions to
do his work and hunting. With that, she handed them over to Spike.
He took one look and began to curse. Spike placed the graining images
of the vampire infront of Buffy. He hadn't wanted to accept the
information that the others had given him, but there was irrefutable
proof in black and white.
"I don't want to, I know..." she whispered, her voice small and tired.
"I don't get it. We dusted this bastard. How the bloody hell did this
happen?" Spike growled. "Where the ruddy hell is the Watcher and what
are all you lot doing here?"
"Giles, well...umm, he's indisposed." Gemma flushed bright red.
"I called Travers and asked for help," Xander whispered. He was worried
that Buffy might view his actions as a betrayal, but he'd been tired
and desperate and fighting what he had feared to be a losing battle.
There was no way he was losing anyone else, so he'd bitten the bullet,
stolen Giles's phonebook and called the Council.
To this day he was still in shock over how easily Travers let them all
off. The older man had basically admitted that Buffy wasn't the
official Slayer, Faith was, and that he'd let Buffy fight Faith's
battles as there had been no one else. He'd sent over the Three
Stooges, the same ones who'd tried to 'retrieve' Faith and he'd been
ready to hate them. Instead they'd knuckled down and helped out. The
best result had been Gemma. She'd seamlessly moved into their lives,
becoming their friend and confidant.
"The old tosser's a drunk and a liability," Collins interjected.
"Nearly got Tara and Anya killed a few months ago on patrol. So we
suggested he take a short sabbatical."
"Giles's drinks?" was all Buffy managed before she burst into tears.
"Where is he?" Spike pinned the thin man with a glare. He knew that the
Watcher was the only thing that Buffy had left of an adult influence
and to hear he had feet of clay and nearly killed two of her friends
because of his boozing was not good. On top of losing her sister, mum
and now Willow, she
was being told her Watcher was a booze hound. He was aching to pick her
up, get into the Desoto and bugger off home. Gritting his teeth, the
irate vampire pulled Buffy out of Anya's arms and onto his lap.
"Any other good news?" he asked sarcastically. Part of him acknowledged
he was being a flippant arse, but an even smaller part was hoping that
the watcher bird was going to announce the Hellmouth had sealed itself
and that all was well in the world. Running a soothing hand down
Buffy's tense back, soothing her, Spike blotted her tears with his free
hand. So far their first night was a bundle of laughs and they still
hadn't gone to visit the graves. They were all so damaged and he didn't
want Buffy to be pulled down by any of them. Not after the months away
from here and watching her slowly come back to life. Gradually becoming
the girl he suspected she had been before that fateful day on the steps
of her old school in Los Angeles. And he liked it, he loved all of her,
but to see that carefree smile flitter across her pouting lips in the
last few weeks had been utter bliss. Yet here she was in tears shaking
in his arms, back on the Hellmouth and having the soul sucked out of
her by a series of events that no one could've prevented. But he must
also see the seriousness of what is going on. He has to think of the
others left behind, because leaving and them dying would kill her and
that would never bring back the Buffy he loved.
"Well, Willow isn't that powerful a vampire as far as we can tell. She
seems to be quite weak and is rarely seen out hunting." Gemma sighed
and rested her chin on her cane in a move that was practised. Her brown
hair was rumpled and escaping from its tie, the faint lines around her
mouth and eyes deepened showing her tiredness.
"Good lord. Is that Buffy? I thought she'd buggered off." A slurred
voice drew their attention to the front of the shop and Giles stood
swaying dramatically in the doorway, blood dripping from a cut on his
forehead. "S'cuse me, I just popped in to find a hankie. I appear to be
leaking." With that he collapsed in a heap on the floor.
"Oh a ruddy perfect end to the reunion from hell!" Spike growled.
To Be Continued...
A/N Phew the last of the poll is now done and all chapters promised now
posted! Next week have an extra treat lined up so you will have to
check in here as I will have something special to post along with
another chapter of Something Wicked! Busy bunny aren't I?
Would love to know what you all thought of the above chapter as it was
fun to write and I'm worried about the reunion also what do you thinks
of Gemma? Did you expect CoW boys? Let me know if you liked - thank you