Readjustment 14/15
If I ever start posting an unfinished story again someone hit me very hard, please. I am toiling through the last chapter now. It's a bit of an uphill battle. Mainly because RL isn't affording me much time. Still, can see the end from here.
In the meantime, here is 14. Thanks, as always, to the incomparable incandragon without whome this would be much less readable.
By the end of a week, Spike’s wounds healed enough for him to get around. His movements remained a bit stiff, but not enough to keep him from flying. The battle raging between his demon and his soul promised to go on longer.
Spike felt like a civil war rampaged inside his skull. The soul reminded Spike of every misdeed and why it was wrong. So appallingly, gut wrenchingly wrong. The demon didn’t appreciate guilt thrust upon it for being a demon. The demon particularly resented Spike putting the soul in the driver’s seat. Seeing as Spike had gone through this whole, extremely painful, process just to have the soul’s guidance in daily life, that issue was non-negotiable.
He caught sleep in cat naps, his dreams tended to cause him to wake up screaming. Over one hundred years of not caring about anything except catering to Drusilla’s needs and whims gave a fertile playground for guilt-soaked nights. Dru had a fondness for children and Spike had procured them for her, beautiful girls in beautiful dresses, living dolls for Dru’s macabre tea parties. He and Dru went through orphanages the way Angelus went through nunneries. At the time, all he’d seen was Dru’s delight in the gifts, twirling the tots around in glee, disemboweling them to read their entrails, crooning lullabies the whole time.
Now he could see the children. Huge, frightened eyes turned to him, pleading for hope, uncomprehending that fate handed them over for slaughter. All of them short-lived playthings for his dark princess. He remembered laughing as they struggled or whimpered in fear; finding amusement in their pathetic attempts to escape. He often woke to dry heaving, grateful his appetite was spotty at the moment.
Then there were the kills he couldn’t even partially blame on Dru. It began with his torture of the poor fools who flung their petty insults at him, mocking his awful poetry. At the time he’d felt fully justified. There followed a seemingly endless parade of young men and women who took him for a friend or possible lover only to find ugly death the second they were alone with him. Even worse were the victims he felt obliged to torture for hours or days, just to prove he wasn’t soft to other demons. The bitter irony of those memories burned. He hadn’t even enjoyed those deaths at the time. He’d just never developed much of a taste for torture. Unless you had reason to hate someone it was a tedious waste of time and perfectly good blood.
Between the battle waging in his skull and the lack of real sleep, Spike felt like he was going mad.
Miriam kept plying him with blood and talking to him. She pulled out of him the less blood-soaked of his memories of his long life. Even when he tried to push her away, feeling unworthy of human company, she stayed and talked to him, teasing him out of his darker contemplations.
Miriam served as a reminder of the good that came with having his soul back, reminded him that it existed to do more than torment him. Her compassion and empathy kept him from going completely round the twist. She got him talking about the one thing the demon and soul both agreed on, his family. Dozens of stories of Dawn, the witches, Joyce, Anya, Buffy, Rupert and most of all Xander fell from his lips at her urging.
Those stories and the feelings they engendered highlighted one of the other advantages of possessing a soul. He loved them before, he remained certain of that, but it paled compared to how he loved them now. Sometimes the feelings bubbled up so strongly that he thought his chest would burst with them. Even his love for Dru intensified, tempered by pain at the atrocities they committed together, but burning brightly just the same. At times the joy pulsed so powerfully it overwhelmed the remorse and pain over his past sins. Other times he feared the twin sensations might rip him apart.
The daily phone calls back home were a lifeline. Everyone wanted a few minutes to assure themselves he remained undead. Each one of them shattered his delusion of being unwanted in their own way. Dawn insisted she was flunking history and English without him, Willow babbled incoherently, but it was a pleasure to hear, Tara told him she looked forward to reading his aura anew when he got home, Rupert spluttered and stuttered as if the words he wanted to say crowded his mouth too full for expression. He did finally manage to thank Spike for the Scotch and promised to wait for his return to crack it open.
Xander, oh Xander lavished words on him that they had both been too concerned with maintaining a manly image to speak. Spike fell into his words like a warm blanket and gave back every poncy syllable until he was forced to make salacious comments of the things he wished to do to Xander upon his return just to save a little face. It had been a long dry spell for them both after all.
Only the realization that the phone bill could break them allowed him to ring off at all.
Still, without Miriam, bearing that first week would have destroyed him. After the third time he awoke screaming from his futile attempt to sleep, she brought him a talisman.
“You can only use this if someone you trust watches over you. It will impart dreamless sleep. You may put it on but another must remove it. While you wear it you will not awake, even in sunlight,” she cautioned.
Spike ran his fingers over the bright beads. “Not sure I deserve restful sleep.”
Miriam made an unladylike noise and clasped his hand. “You must work through your memories, sort out the mess up there.” She tapped his forehead with one calloused finger. Somehow, Spike didn’t mind her mocking him so much. “But you must sleep or you will go crazy. Wait too long, you begin to see things that aren’t there.”
Spike could all too well imagine the hallucinations he would have. He squeezed her hand. “Would you watch out for me?” he asked, holding the talisman out to her.
Her bright smile nearly blinded him. “Of course,” she said, as if he was silly for having to ask. She slipped the thong over his neck and whispered, “Sleep well” with a kiss to his cheek before he slipped into unconsciousness.
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The plane ride home was pure torture. The anticipated guilt over flying first class on a dead drug dealer’s money failed to materialize, but sleep proved impossible. He couldn’t use the talisman without risking immolation by an innocently raised window shade. Without it, his screaming and flailing as the inevitable nightmares took hold promised to draw unwelcome attention. So he watched the drivel programming, listened to music, read a book he picked up at the airport and basically fought sleep, haunted by the gnawing fear that, despite their many reassurances, he wouldn’t be welcome back home.
By the time he hit Sunnydale, he hadn’t slept in close to three days and he felt wrung out. Xander waited for him in the baggage claim and Spike found himself frozen to the spot when he saw him. His exhausted brain refused to formulate a proper response to him. Fortunately, Xander suffered from no such impediment. He strode across the intervening space, took Spike’s face between his large, oh so warm palms and kissed him thoroughly. Spike fell into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Xander automatically. Unmindful of the bustle around them, they surfaced an unknowable amount of time later.
“God, I missed you,” Xander whispered, keeping a hand on Spike as if he feared Spike might disappear. He closed his eyes briefly and blew out a breath. “So, we should get your luggage.”
“This is it, Luv,” Spike said, hefting his duffle. “I’m good to go.”
Xander began towing him toward the exit. “I’m parked in the garage, we can be there in two minutes.”
Spike wondered if Xander’s eagerness proceeded from a desire to get him somewhere private or because he looked ready to keel over. He got his answer a moment later when Xander asked, “When’s the last time you slept?”
“Miriam made sure I got a full eight hours before I left for the airport. Couldn’t afford it after that,” Spike confessed, pushing himself to catch up with Xander rather than dragging behind.
Xander appeared to be doing some mental calculations then stared at Spike in dismay. “You must be dead on your feet.”
“Wouldn’t say no to a good kip,” Spike allowed with a small smile. Their bed at home would be a very welcome sight. “But I know I’ve got a round of welcome backs to go through before we get to that. Please tell me you didn‘t plan a welcome home party.”
“No party that I’m aware of. Don’t worry, I’ll run interference for you,” Xander offered. They arrived at the truck and Xander seemed reluctant to let go so they could both climb in. Spike didn’t begrudge him the hesitation. Since the last time he thought he’d seen Xander he’d disappeared into thin air, caution seemed entirely reasonable, so did the sigh of relief Xander let out when they were both in the cab of the truck.
Xander turned to face him without starting the engine “Listen, there are some things I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry with everything you were facing, but I think you should know before we get home.”
Spike didn’t like the sound of that. Just what catastrophe had Xander thought Spike shouldn’t worry about?
Xander gripped his wrist and ran his other hand lightly up and down the inside of his arm. “It’s nothing catastrophic,” Xander said as if he could read Spike’s mind. “But Robin is part of the team now and I don’t want you taken by surprise if you see him.”
For several long seconds Spike tried to figure out who Robin was, the answer seemed so improbable he couldn’t grasp it at first. “Wood?”
“Yeah, I kinda thought you’d react that way,” Xander replied, redoubling his efforts to soothe Spike. “He and Faith ran into each other on patrol. And, well, they kind of hit it off. They both have that animal magnetism thing going for them, I guess. Actually, he’s not such a bad guy when you get to know him, calls Faith on a lot of her bullshit …” Xander trailed off when he noticed Spike’s glare. “Okay, the point is, he and Faith are out tonight so you shouldn’t have to see him right off the bat. I just wanted to give you fair warning.”
Xander stared earnestly into Spike’s eyes while grasping his upper arms. “It’s been made very clear to him that he is not to threaten you in any way. That still stands, Spike. That will always stand.”
Spike sighed as he took this information in, his feelings about Wood were far too complicated to contemplate on so little sleep. Xander’s expression made it very clear that at his word Wood got thrown out on his arse. Soon enough he could assess the situation for himself. “Can always use another strong fighter,” he allowed.
Xander kissed him like he simply couldn’t help himself and Spike, not in the least adverse to this, pulled him close to do a bit of return ravishing. They were both panting when they pulled apart.
Xander shook himself to regain focus. “One more bit of important news and we’re headed home,” he assured. “Both Faith and Robin know Buffy is dead. It just wasn’t possible to keep it from them long term.”
Spike nodded his acceptance of this truth and Xander looked relieved. “They don’t know about Dawn and it’s staying that way.” Spike got the impression there had been a rather intense Scooby meeting about that and couldn’t help a lopsided smile. “Right,” Xander visibly forced himself to disengage and turn to face front. “That’s everything, time to head home.”
Spike allowed himself to relax back into the seat. “So, Wood doing right by you lot?”
“Even better, he’s good for Faith. He doesn’t have old baggage with her so he can say things the rest of us can’t.” Xander’s fond smile won Wood a few more brownie points in Spike’s estimation.
Spike laid his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, enjoying the gentle motion of the truck. He struggled not to give in to exhaustion, he needed to brace himself for the reunion at home. Intellectually, he knew everyone was happy to have him home, they’d all assured him of that over the phone. He still couldn’t help the fluttery feeling in his stomach when he anticipated his reception.
“So, Miriam’s a pretty special lady, isn’t she?” Xander asked casually.
Spike smiled thinking of Miriam’s warm smile and gentle hands. “She held me together after the trials. Don’t know what I would have done without her; gone crazy, I suspect.”
“She pretty?”
“Beautiful. And her laugh is like music.” Spike rolled his head toward Xander as the tone of his voice finally processed. One look at Xander practically grinding his teeth and his head snapped up and he turned to face Xander. “You’re jealous!” he shouted, incredulous.
Xander’s practically growled out. “It should have been me there holding you together.”
Spike reached out to cup Xander’s cheek. “You were there. Every step of the way. Sometimes I needed Miriam to remind me of that fact. She pestered me for stories of all of you when I started getting lost in the nightmares, made me remember people loved me. That you still loved me. If you think you have a rival, you’re dafter than I took you for.” Somehow, Xander’s jealousy eased some of the worry in his gut.
Xander kept his eyes on the road but he leaned into the touch, snaking one hand up to cover Spike’s and hold him there. “I just felt so helpless,” he confessed.
“I know,” Spike sympathized. “But I’m glad you weren’t there. Thought I was going to die and the only comfort I had was knowing you were safe.” Spike figured he could tell Xander the details of the trials later, much later, when he felt more awake.
Without meaning to, Spike dozed the rest of the ride home. Xander shook his shoulder gently. “We’re home.”
Spike took a deep breath and climbed out of the truck. There must have been a sentry at the window because he hadn’t managed to shut the door when he found his arms full of excited teenager. “You’re home, you’re home!” she chanted. She lifted her face from where she had it buried in his chest to level a glare at him. “You can’t ever do that again, understand?”
“I think it’s safe to say I’m home to stay, Dawn,” he told her, stroking her hair back from where it had fallen in her face. It felt wonderful to have her close again, she’d shot up another couple inches during his absence.
Willow and Tara made it a group hug a moment later. The front lawn seemed a poor place for a proper reunion. Xander apparently agreed. He laid a proprietary hand on Spike’s shoulder to steer him toward the front door while shooing the girls away. “Let’s take this inside ladies,” Xander advised while herding them all into the house.
The girls quizzed him on how he felt, offered him food and blood faster than he could answer their queries. Xander proved excellent at running interference. He sent Dawn off to heat Spike some blood, after two days on planes and in airports Spike admitted he was peckish. Willow and Tara he commissioned to bring out the snacks and drinks that waited in the kitchen. Aside from the giggling coming from the kitchen, the house got much quieter.
Rupert took the opportunity to step forward and clasp Spike’s hand. “Welcome home, Spike,” he said with a broad grin and a manly clap on the back. “We’ve missed you.”
Spike flailed for the proper thing to say and found himself settling on. “Thank you for looking out for them, and the research and such.“
“Wait,“ Xander stopped, clearly unhappy. “You helped him track down this demon?“
Spike thought it wise to intervene before Xander got too stroppy. “I would have gone anyway, Rupert made sure I had the information I needed. Might not have survived without it.”
“Yes, well,” Rupert’s eyes signaled appreciation for the diversion, and he continued on with a quick subject change. “Faith is staying with Robin tonight so you shouldn’t have to deal with anyone but us before tomorrow at the earliest.
Spike nodded his gratitude. Sounded like they all called Wood “Robin” around here now. Seemed likely he needed to adjust his feelings toward the man.
The girls bustled back in bearing food and blood. The warm blood they plied him with felt good sliding down his throat. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was.
“Do you want some more?” Willow asked brightly. “We stocked up.”
He scanned the people surrounding him and broke a little inside. He found himself nearly gasping for breath as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Hiding his face, Spike tried to keep from openly weeping like a big girl’s blouse. The assault of everyone’s love, approval and care overwhelmed him. The intensity of emotions still caught him by surprise. His defenses low from exhaustion, he failed to process it all.
He heard Xander trying to calm everyone down, even as he moved to sit next to Spike on the couch. Spike breathed in his scent, the feel of his arm around him and wrested control back. He set the mug down as he stood. “Sorry everyone,” he apologized. “Just a bit overtired. Expect I‘ll be better after some sleep.”
“All right folks,” Xander’s voice chimed in, his arm firmly wrapped around Spike‘s shoulders. “I know you’re all glad he’s home, but I think it’s time I took my vamp to bed.” Then Xander gently, but firmly, steered him toward the basement. Everyone made understanding noises and Spike let himself be maneuvered into the kitchen to the basement stairs.
Spike looked for differences as he descended the stairs. Xander tinkered with their living space constantly, shelves, cabinets, weapon racks springing up regularly. The place sported no new additions. “The place looks the same,” Spike commented, counting on Xander to know what he meant.
“I don’t spend a lot of time down here,” Xander responded sheepishly. “Without you around it just wasn’t fun.”
Spike caught Xander in an affectionate headlock. “If I weren’t done in I’d say let’s rechristen the place.”
He dropped his duffle by the side of the bed and began taking off his boots. The knots seemed to tangle no matter how he pulled at them.
“You really are tired,” Xander observed, as he dropped to his knees and took over the removal of Spike’s boots. Spike managed his own shirt but let Xander help him with the rest. Spike pulled out his talisman and contemplated it.
“Not sure you want to use it?” Xander asked, clearly reading his mind.
“I use this I’m out, like my brain is switched off. I’d like to be aware, know I’m home.” He looked up at Xander, beseechingly. “Feel your arms around me.”
Xander took the talisman from him and placed it carefully on the nightstand. Then he began divesting himself of his own clothes. “How about we see if I can keep the nightmares at bay?”