BTVS Oneshot: The Comforting Time Has Come
Oct. 2nd, 2011 05:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jesterladyficSuddenly realized I'd never posted this.
Title: The Comforting Time Has Come
by Jesterlady
Rating: PG
Summary: Spike tries to understand Cassie's cryptic words to him in Help.
Disclaimer: I don't own BTVS. The title is by John Bunyan. The beginning and ending lines are from the show.
The Comforting TIme Has Come
She'll tell you. Someday, she'll tell you.
It took awhile for the words to sink in. After all, he'd been half mad when he'd heard them. He had to spend several more weeks in the basement and another couple in Xander's apartment before he could comprehend them. And even then he didn't know.
It wasn't that hard to figure out who 'she' was. There were only ever four women in his long life that could simply be called 'she.' Two of them were dead - vengeance demon possibilities aside - and so he doubted they'd ever have anything else to tell him. One of them was completely insane and probably bent on killing him. And the other, the one, well, who knew what kind of things she'd want to tell him.
After he'd figured out who she was, he tried to figure out what it might be. It was a far harder thing to conjure. There wasn't simple math involved. He was still just trying to have coherent thoughts, to beat back the nightmares, to not think about blood and pain and fists flying, to not want and want all at the same time. He had momentary flashes of sympathy for Angel, but they quickly vanished, flooded out by irritation. Perhaps those thoughts more than anything cleared his mind.
If he thought about all the things the Slayer could tell him and what he might want her to tell him and what she might need to tell him, it was a dizzying array of things. Maybe someday there'd be a plague about to devour all of mankind and she'd have to tell him something horrible about how to cure it. Maybe she'd finally decide he was useless and have to tell him she was going to put a stake through his heart. Maybe she'd finally get back with his grandsire forever and want to tell him personally.
Of course, he was just avoiding the inevitable with these musings. He knew what he wanted her to tell him, what the little psychic girl must have meant. There wouldn't be any point to her telling him anything else. It took him awhile to avoid the self-deluding thoughts entirely and focus in on the point. The idea that Buffy could - would - ever tell him those three words. The most ridiculous phrase on the planet. The one he wanted to hear more than anything.
Then again, maybe the girl was off her rocker worse than he had been. Or maybe her gift had been blinded by the pain and fear and confusion. Now that he had been to Africa and fully faced who he was and what he'd done - there didn't seem to be any way that someone as shining as the Slayer could ever hope to accept him. Yes, it couldn't be true. Not even the remembrance of how much she'd loved Angel could sway his thoughts on that subject.
Until she told him how she believed in him, how she thought he could be a better man. It was so simple then. Those words redirected his energies and his actions followed and he plotted his life course by them. So, maybe, just maybe, it was possible. But he doubted it. He probably wouldn't live through this fight, though he was determined that she would. And if they did, there were always other dangers and other worries and then there were her bloody friends and the poof himself. It wouldn't end happily.
Still, he couldn't stop himself from hoping and from being a bleeding ponce about it - if only to himself. And since he couldn't seem to stop himself from those happy thoughts, he had to figure out how he would respond. Yes, he knew he spent way too much time thinking and being stupid about this.
So, how would his girl finally tell him she loved him? After all they'd been through, all the fights and rage and hatred and betrayal and disdain. He could go on forever listing all the badness. But there had been the passion and the excitement and the quietness and the companionship and the understanding and the partnership as well. All the things he would categorize as good had been non-vocal and simply implied while all the rest were shouted from the rooftops at every opportunity and spelled out.
He didn't think she could make herself say it out of pity or loss or weakness. He didn't think she'd ever say it unless she truly meant it. To do less would be to betray a sacred calling and fail all the goodness of her soul. And he knew she was incapable of that, no matter the tarnishes that had striven to mar her. So, if she said it, she'd mean it. How perfectly...indescribable.
She'd be forced to it though. Even if she came to be aware of it before the moment - it would have to be because something was happening. Something earth-shaking, apocalypse now, people dying. And if he was dying and she said to it him then because she only finally realized it, or because she hadn't been able to before then or because she wanted to ease his death with the truth, then he knew what his response would have to be.
Complete and utter denial. Oh, it might be the coward's way out, but it was the only way for her to truly live. To renounce the love psychically fore-given for her to feel and truly be the amazing woman he knew she was. But...that was only if he was dying. If he was still not-breathing, that was another story entirely. But in the words given to him by Cassie, he knew how it would be. He'd spent months figuring it out and no one knew the Slayer better than him. He was grateful for the foreknowledge. It gave him a gift to give to her.
I love you.
No you don't, but thanks for saying it.
Title: The Comforting Time Has Come
by Jesterlady
Rating: PG
Summary: Spike tries to understand Cassie's cryptic words to him in Help.
Disclaimer: I don't own BTVS. The title is by John Bunyan. The beginning and ending lines are from the show.
The Comforting TIme Has Come
She'll tell you. Someday, she'll tell you.
It took awhile for the words to sink in. After all, he'd been half mad when he'd heard them. He had to spend several more weeks in the basement and another couple in Xander's apartment before he could comprehend them. And even then he didn't know.
It wasn't that hard to figure out who 'she' was. There were only ever four women in his long life that could simply be called 'she.' Two of them were dead - vengeance demon possibilities aside - and so he doubted they'd ever have anything else to tell him. One of them was completely insane and probably bent on killing him. And the other, the one, well, who knew what kind of things she'd want to tell him.
After he'd figured out who she was, he tried to figure out what it might be. It was a far harder thing to conjure. There wasn't simple math involved. He was still just trying to have coherent thoughts, to beat back the nightmares, to not think about blood and pain and fists flying, to not want and want all at the same time. He had momentary flashes of sympathy for Angel, but they quickly vanished, flooded out by irritation. Perhaps those thoughts more than anything cleared his mind.
If he thought about all the things the Slayer could tell him and what he might want her to tell him and what she might need to tell him, it was a dizzying array of things. Maybe someday there'd be a plague about to devour all of mankind and she'd have to tell him something horrible about how to cure it. Maybe she'd finally decide he was useless and have to tell him she was going to put a stake through his heart. Maybe she'd finally get back with his grandsire forever and want to tell him personally.
Of course, he was just avoiding the inevitable with these musings. He knew what he wanted her to tell him, what the little psychic girl must have meant. There wouldn't be any point to her telling him anything else. It took him awhile to avoid the self-deluding thoughts entirely and focus in on the point. The idea that Buffy could - would - ever tell him those three words. The most ridiculous phrase on the planet. The one he wanted to hear more than anything.
Then again, maybe the girl was off her rocker worse than he had been. Or maybe her gift had been blinded by the pain and fear and confusion. Now that he had been to Africa and fully faced who he was and what he'd done - there didn't seem to be any way that someone as shining as the Slayer could ever hope to accept him. Yes, it couldn't be true. Not even the remembrance of how much she'd loved Angel could sway his thoughts on that subject.
Until she told him how she believed in him, how she thought he could be a better man. It was so simple then. Those words redirected his energies and his actions followed and he plotted his life course by them. So, maybe, just maybe, it was possible. But he doubted it. He probably wouldn't live through this fight, though he was determined that she would. And if they did, there were always other dangers and other worries and then there were her bloody friends and the poof himself. It wouldn't end happily.
Still, he couldn't stop himself from hoping and from being a bleeding ponce about it - if only to himself. And since he couldn't seem to stop himself from those happy thoughts, he had to figure out how he would respond. Yes, he knew he spent way too much time thinking and being stupid about this.
So, how would his girl finally tell him she loved him? After all they'd been through, all the fights and rage and hatred and betrayal and disdain. He could go on forever listing all the badness. But there had been the passion and the excitement and the quietness and the companionship and the understanding and the partnership as well. All the things he would categorize as good had been non-vocal and simply implied while all the rest were shouted from the rooftops at every opportunity and spelled out.
He didn't think she could make herself say it out of pity or loss or weakness. He didn't think she'd ever say it unless she truly meant it. To do less would be to betray a sacred calling and fail all the goodness of her soul. And he knew she was incapable of that, no matter the tarnishes that had striven to mar her. So, if she said it, she'd mean it. How perfectly...indescribable.
She'd be forced to it though. Even if she came to be aware of it before the moment - it would have to be because something was happening. Something earth-shaking, apocalypse now, people dying. And if he was dying and she said to it him then because she only finally realized it, or because she hadn't been able to before then or because she wanted to ease his death with the truth, then he knew what his response would have to be.
Complete and utter denial. Oh, it might be the coward's way out, but it was the only way for her to truly live. To renounce the love psychically fore-given for her to feel and truly be the amazing woman he knew she was. But...that was only if he was dying. If he was still not-breathing, that was another story entirely. But in the words given to him by Cassie, he knew how it would be. He'd spent months figuring it out and no one knew the Slayer better than him. He was grateful for the foreknowledge. It gave him a gift to give to her.
I love you.
No you don't, but thanks for saying it.
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no subject
Date: 2011-12-18 03:52 am (UTC)That why I think he never really tried to find her when he came back. Let's face it Spike is persistent, if he really thought she loved him nothing would have stopped him. Not even being a ghost.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-18 05:19 am (UTC)Oh, Buffy. How silly you are sometimes.
Thanks for commenting.