A Barely Breathing Story: Chapter Seven

[jesterladyfic]

Chapter Seven: Buffy and Being Like a Superhero or Something

Buffy tries to patrol that night, she really does. Unfortunately, a graveyard is a really hard place to avoid a vampire.

Why is she avoiding the vampire that makes her feel the closest thing to heaven she’s known since she came back? Oh, all the usual reasons. She has been too impulsive, she isn’t being fair to him, doesn’t know how to live. It’s getting old, even to her. She recalls the exact words she said to him and feels a little annoyed with herself.

I want this to be real. Only you can make me feel.

And that kiss…she swears it should have won some sort of award. She literally can’t stop thinking about it and how alive it made her feel. And about the vamp who had given it to her. He’s obviously running out of whatever patience he’s mustered up for her and that kiss just fueled the fire. It wasn’t their first kiss by any means, but it was…she jerks back out of thinking about it again.

She’s not patrolling anymore because she’d spotted Spike fighting off some sort of shark demon and fled the scene after making sure he’d be all right.

Now she’s at Xander’s apartment and wishes she were back in the cemetery. They’re all treating her like glass since her big confessional number and she spares a brief thought to summoning Sweets herself so she can kill him. Everyone shifts guiltily whenever they look at her and they talk in whispers. Okay, so it’s not so different from when they thought she’d been in hell, but at least then she knew she wasn’t causing them all massive resurrection spell guilt.

And they all deal with it in different ways, Willow, for instance, offering to make her forget about heaven entirely. Buffy’s saved from having to protect her memories by Tara jumping in to defend magic’s honor or something like that. She doesn’t really know the mechanics, all she knows is that she’s on Tara’s side and now they’re fighting big time, and she scrambles for the bedroom with Xander and Anya so they can avoid the scene that has to inevitably follow. Except that’s pretty impossible with the doors the way they are and it’s really hard to think up distracting conversational topics when you’re a) her, and, b) when something like that is going on in the living room.

“You did it the way you're doing everything,” Tara’s voice rises. “When things get rough, you- you don't even consider the options. You just...you just do a spell. It's not good for you, Willow. And it's not what magic is for.”

“But I-I just wanna help people.”

“Maybe that's how it started, but...you're helping yourself now, fixing things to your liking. Including me.”

“Tara, no!”

There’s a beat of silence and then Tara speaks with tears in her voice.

“I don't think this is gonna work.”

Buffy exchanges looks with Xander and Anya and they all hold their breath. Willow starts pleading and eventually promises to not use magic for a week. Buffy doesn’t think that’s really likely, but she hopes so for Willow’s sake.

Still, the night is pretty much shot and she feels awkward enough so she makes her excuses and heads back to the Magic Shop where she can maybe work out some of the awful feelings running through her veins. She doubts it.

Giles is in the back room and she has about one minute of thinking he might be able to help before he sits her down and stomps on that theory. He tells her that he’s leaving to go back to England.

She doesn’t think that’s such a good idea. Because she might not know what to do and she might be traumatized and she might be tempted to lean on Spike more than Giles these days, but she always feels in the back of her mind that Giles can somehow fix what’s wrong with her life.

“You have to be strong. I'm-I'm trying to-“

“Trying to, to what? Desert me? Abandon me? I can't do this without you.”

“You can. That's why I'm going. As long as I stay you'll always turn to me if there's something that comes up that you feel that you can't handle, and I'll step in because-because...because I can't bear to see you suffer.”

“Me too. Hate suffering. Had about as much of it as I can take.”

He looks sad but she’s not rational enough to see that right now. She just sees another back going away from her.

“I've taught you all I can about being a Slayer, and your mother taught you what you needed to know about life. You-you're not going to trust that until you're forced to stand alone.”

She laughs derisively.

“I see. I see that you simply want to be rid of the responsibility of Buffy-watch. She’s not performing well, so we better just walk away and start over somewhere else.”

“Buffy…that’s not-“

“You’re a Watcher through and through, aren’t you?”

“To be fair you didn’t exactly rely on me very much before you…er, died. You were rather invested in another relationship.”

“Spike believes in me. I don’t know what that means for us now, but he would never just walk away.”

“I wish I could share your sentiments.”

“If you don’t trust him not to leave, why are you? Like you left when I was dead and left my sister who’d been put in your care!”

“Tara could take far better care of her than I. I-I took care of everything that I could.”

“Like your plane tickets. Then and now.”

“Buffy, I've thought this over...and over. I believe it's the right thing to do.”

“You're wrong.”

She leaves because in another minute she’s going to pull a Cruciamentum and throw something at him. And this time she won’t miss.

Giles makes his big announcement the next morning. They’re all gathered in her own personal little shop of horrors but they’re waiting for Willow and Xander.

They come in holding the door open for Logan and Veronica. Willow’s wearing Logan’s coat.

“Thanks for the coat, it’s cold out there,” she tells him.

“No worries,” he tells her. “Even if you run off with it I can just get another one.”

Veronica rolls her eyes and greets everyone.

“We didn’t know you were back in town,” Tara tells Logan warmly.

“Announcement: I’m moving in.”

“Announcement: we’ve got room,” Buffy says bitterly and Logan looks sharply at her.

She turns away from his gaze because he’s learned to read her a little too well.

“Anyway…we just wanted to know if we could get some help moving him in. He wanted to hire people but I told him this is not the college way,” Veronica says and Buffy notes how happy she looks.

“I’ve never exactly been known to do things the normal way,” Logan says, leaning up against the counter beside Willow as if anxious to protect his jacket.

Veronica pushes past him to sit beside Xander.

“Like ask for help.”

“What’s that?” he asks, smirk firmly in place.

Buffy loves their banter, she truly does, but all there is inside her right now is a big hole.

Giles stands up and looks like he’s going to be all pompous and then the door bursts open and Spike rushes in, smoking. He’s wearing…a hideous brown suit and the most ridiculous hat Buffy’s ever seen. She spares one brief second wishing for a camera.

“Nice to have you join us,” Giles says, looking irritated.

“I need sanctuary,” Spike says drolly, hopping up on the counter under Anya’s disapproving gaze.

“What else is new?” Xander asks.

Spike looks over at her and she can’t look away from his gaze. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look anything. He just looks at her and she hates that feeling where it feels like he knows every single one of her private thoughts. What he’ll do with them she doesn’t know.

But Giles speaks up again and tells everyone he’s leaving. Cue general consternation and outrage. Yeah, Buffy knows the feeling. But she’s done dealing with it.

“I can't do this,” she says and walks past everyone towards the door.

“Buffy, listen,” Willow says and Buffy stops. “I know this must be awful for you, and I-I'm sorry, I-I'm so sorry for...”

“Sorry. Everybody's sorry. I know that you guys are just trying to help...but it's just- it's too much. And-and I-I can't take it anymore.” She looks down and tries to hold back her tears. “If you guys...if you guys understood how it felt...how it feels. It's like I'm dying, it-“

But she never gets to say anything more about how it feels because there’s a sudden spark of light in her vision and then she’s weightless and full of black emptiness and she can feel the floor beneath her where there should be no floor and then…

She wakes up in a strange room and she has no idea where it is. Come to think of it, she doesn’t know who she is either. And that’s strange. That’s more than strange, it’s wrong. But it somehow feels better than before. Whatever before was.

There are a bunch of people around her and a teenage girl beside her starts freaking out and she reaches to calm her down, almost on reflex.

A middle-aged man starts talking about calming down and some guy is freaking out about being in a lab somewhere. The hot blonde guy in the awful suit is making fun of everyone. One of the blonde girls is watching everything with an incredibly sharp eye and the redhead is busy trying to avoid looking at the guy she apparently woke up next to.

It’s a bit chaotic and she has the urge to laugh but she’s too worried about why she doesn’t remember anything to do so.

“We'll all get our memory back, and it'll all be right as rain,” the older man is saying.

“Oh, listen to Mary Poppins,” Blonde Guy says. “He's got his crust all stiff and upper with that nancy-boy accent. You Englishmen are always so...” He pauses. “Bloody hell!” He starts ticking off words she doesn’t understand off his fingers. “Sodding, blimey, shagging, knickers, oh bollocks, I'm English!”

“Welcome to the nancy tribe,” says Old Guy with Glasses.

“You don't suppose you and I...we're not related, are we?”

“There is a ruggedly handsome resemblance,” says the blonde girl sitting rather close to Old Guy who smiles at the compliment and inspects Blonde Guy.

“And you do inspire a, um...particular feeling of...familiarity and...disappointment. Older brother?”

“Father,” Blonde Guy scoffs. “Oh, how I must hate you.”

“What did I do?”

“There's always something, and what's with the trollop?” he says, pointing to Blonde Girl in Purple.

Which she obviously resents and rightly so except Blonde Girl finds a ring on her finger and they all assume there’s some May/December romance going on which, ew.

She’s more concerned about finding out who she is, thank you very much.

Other Blonde Girl finally speaks up and informs everyone that they should look for some form of identification on their persons and that’s the first sensible thing any of them have said.

They all dig in their pockets but she doesn’t find anything and finds that a bit suspicious, as well as annoying, especially since everyone else is hitting pay dirt.

Freaking Out About Experiments Guy informs everyone that his name is Alexander Harris and he seems to think Other Blonde Girl is his girlfriend since they woke up snuggling.

Other Blonde Girl tells him her name is Veronica Mars and that they’re on a temporary break-up until she gets her memory back, thank you very much.

Redhead Girl’s Boy starts laughing at that.

“No one wants to go the guilt-free sex route?”

“What’s your name, jackass?” Veronica asks him and he digs in his pockets.

“I knew she was into me; sorry, honey,” he informs the redhead who inches away from him a bit. “Logan Echolls from the bright town of Neptune, CA,” he tells them all.

“That’s where I’m from too,” Veronica says, looking at him askance.

“You think we’re best pals?” he asks her.

“I think I probably avoid you,” she says, looking him up and down with disdain.

He just laughs at her and turns back to the redhead.

“And who’s the stunning girl I woke up with?”

“Willow Rosenberg,” she says in a small voice. “A weird name and a guy’s jacket being all that I appear to possess.”

“I believe that’s mine,” Logan says, inspecting the label.

“Oh,” she says and she doesn’t sound relieved.

A third blonde girl pokes her hand up and announces her name is Tara Maclay.

Engaged Blonde Girl has found her name in the cash register which she appears to instinctively know how to use. It’s Anya Jenkins and she owns the shop with Rupert Giles who turns out to be Old Guy.

“Rupert,” Blonde Guy scoffs.

Rupert glares at him.

“Anyway, what do I call you?”

“Um...” He looks at his jacket, twisting around in all sorts of interesting ways to try and read the labels. “ 'Made with loving care for Randy.' Randy Giles?” he yells, pushing Rupert hard enough to hurt, though the other man just rolls back and adapts. “Why not just call me Horny Giles, or Desperate for a Shag Giles? I knew there was a reason I hated you!”

“Randy's...a family name, undoubtedly.”

The teenage girl beside her has been quietly freaking out this whole time so she puts her arm around her and sees her necklace.

“Your name is Dawn,” she reassures her.

“Or Umad,” the girl jokes quietly and she feels a strange spike of affection for her.

Except now everyone’s staring at her expecting her to pull some kind of identity out of the air and she doesn’t have one.

“I think I’ll name myself,” she says. “I feel like a…Joan.”

“Joan?” says Randy in derision.

“Yes, Randy?” she says pointedly and he shuts up.

She likes what that does to his face. When he’s not talking non-stop he’s kind of cute. Scratch that, he’s more than cute. He’s practically perfect. Those cheekbones and when he stretches the suit doesn’t hide the gorgeous form that must be underneath it and…

She really can’t focus on this right now. She’s sort of an amnesiac in a magic shop full of occult stuff.

Does she believe in that kind of stuff? Apparently.

Veronica and Rupert are arguing about whether they should go to the hospital or try some sort of spell and she can’t believe he’s even suggesting that.

“Hey!” she yells. “Look, even if magic stuff is all real, we don’t know how to use it. We should go to the hospital.”

“Who made Joan the boss?” Randy says, but he looks like he agrees with her.

They start to leave and she opens the door and a monster shows up in front of her.

Ten simultaneous screams split the air and she slams the door again and locks it.

“We want Spike!” come some yells from outside.

“What’s a ‘spike?’ ” Logan asks, looking at them all suspiciously.

“I don’t know,” Randy says, “but we should just give it to them.”

“Nobody’s giving anything until we know what to do.”

“Is there a back door to this place?” Veronica asks.

She and Joan look at each other.

“Find it, bar it,” Joan says.

There’s a shattering noise and glass explodes everywhere. The monsters, the real-life vampires! come running in and head straight for Randy.

He attempts to struggle and knocks over a shelf sending stuff flying everywhere. Logan and Alex are attempting to pull the vampires off Randy and Veronica has gotten Anya to help her pull a large bookcase in front of the back door. A vampire manages to get in before they can close it and Joan watches in astonishment as Veronica lands a nice kick on the vamp’s neck, knocking him back outside. Anya and Tara push the bookcase in front of the door again.

A long wooden stake rolls on the floor toward her and Joan instinctively grasps it.

“Hey! Stay away from Randy!” she yells, grabbing a vampire’s collar and hurling him backward, out the window.

She swings the stake forward on a second vampire without much thought. The vampire explodes into dust and they all stare in complete amazement. Including her.

“Whoa!” Dawn says.

“What did you just do?” Willow asks.

“Uh...I....I don't know.” She starts to smile. “But it was cool!”

“The boss ain't gonna like this! I'll be back. And I won't be alone!” the other vamp says and runs out the now splintered front door.

Randy shuts and locks it behind him and pulls the security grate down over the broken window.

She’s never felt so good in all her twenty-odd minutes of life. This feels absolutely right.

“I think I know why Joan's the boss. I'm like a superhero or something!”
Everyone’s looking at her now and she doesn’t mind. She feels like she can do this. She gathers everyone around.

“Okay. I've got a plan. They seem to want Randy. And I seem to be pretty strong. Wicked strong. So, you guys go through the sewers to get to the hospital, and Randy and I'll give the monsters a run for their money.”

“That's your plan?” Randy asks incredulously.

“Yes.”

“Right,” he says agreeably.

“I’m going with you,” Veronica says determinedly.

Joan nods.

“I saw you kick that vamp. I think that will work.”

“And who’s supposed to protect us in the sewers?” Logan asks.

“Grow some cajones,” Veronica tells him.

“Oh, they’re grown,” he tells her, winking at her.

In the meantime Anya refuses to leave the shop and Rupert decides to stay with her and maybe try some spells. Joan figures it might work.

“We need to go. Ready, Randy?”

“Ready, Joan.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Veronica mutters, moving in behind them.

“Um, son,” Rupert says. Randy stops. “Come here. Um, please.”

“Um...”

“Yes, um...”

Randy stands awkwardly next to Rupert and they sort of hug and then Randy straightens up quickly and it’s all a little bit hilarious.

“Right.”

“Good, then.”

They rush out, the three of them, and she feels an adrenaline rush. She shoulders a vamp out of the way and hears a clattering behind her. Veronica’s just ducked under a vamp’s outreached arms and they watch as another vamp flies through the air propelled by Randy’s arm.

“Hey, I’m a superhero too!” he yells and turns around.

Veronica freezes and Joan screams.

His face is distorted, fangs and yellow eyes gleaming. He’s a vampire.

They look at each other and then run away.

“What are we going to do?” Veronica asks as they run.

“I don’t know,” Joan says back.

She feels a hand on her arm and punches behind her, knocking him down and he pulls her down with him. She ends up straddling him with a stake to his heart.

“Bloody hell, what are you doing?” Randy asks.

She looks back at him and then realizes that he really doesn’t know.

“You don't know who you are.”

“Right, none of us do, and we're being chased by-“

“You're a vampire!” Veronica tells him.

He snaps his head over to look at her.

“How can you say- I – me - a vampire? No.”

“Check the lumpies. And the teeth.”

He feels his face and horror crosses it. A really weird combination and she has to resist the urge to laugh. Strangely enough, even now, she’s not feeling scared. Kind of happy. Kind of interested.

“I kill your kind,” she says in an attempt to remain cool.

“And I bite yours. So how come I don't wanna bite you? And why am I fighting other vampires?” She doesn’t know. She looks at Veronica, who shrugs. “I must be a noble vampire. A good guy. On a mission of redemption. I help the hopeless. I'm a vampire with a soul.”

Joan can’t process that even a little bit. She’s new to the supernatural, okay? And this particular vampire is causing all sorts of conflicting thoughts.

“A vampire with a soul? How lame is that?” she finally says.

Because it is.

He moves underneath her and she suddenly realizes just exactly where she’s sitting. She hastily gets off him and Veronica shoots her a knowing glance.

“I'm a hero really,” he says, apparently not even noticing. “I mean, to be cast such an ugly lot in life and then to rise above it. To seek out better, nobler things. It's inspirational, isn't it? And the two of us…” he says, stepping close to Joan, invading a lot of personal space. She doesn’t like it, nope, not even a little bit. Stupid, sped-up heartbeat. “…natural enemies, thrown together to stand against the forces of darkness. Utter trust. No thought of me biting you, no thought of you staking me.”

“Depends on how long you keep on yapping,” Veronica says and Joan might agree just a little bit, if he wasn’t standing so close and her being unable to step away due to some vampire power thing.

Then the other vampires come again and she’s got to fight a bit.

Which is good. Very distracting and good. She has a feeling she wants to be distracted and fighting. Turns out Randy fights pretty well too and Veronica holds her own even if she and Randy have to protect her a bit.

Then there’s a jolt in the air and Buffy slams back into herself with all the force of a kamikaze jet and just as much devastation.

“Bloody hell!” she hears again from behind her.

“What the hell?” comes Veronica’s voice.

Buffy can’t think. She sits on the ground stunned from more than just the vampire’s fist to her jaw.

Joan was so much easier.

It’s all rushing back. Death, heaven, Spike, Giles leaving, Dawn.

Hell is the right word.

Spike recovers first and slays the vampires, sending dust everywhere and then the shark demon she saw before comes up to him.

“You're an odd duck, Mister Spike. Fighting your own kind...palling around with a Slayer. And, whoa, that suit! Chutzpah must be your middle name.” He chuckles weakly. “Uh, hey, look, um...about our little debt problem, it's okay, I don't need the kittens.”

Spike grabs him and holds him menacingly.

“You'll get paid. I'm no welsher.”

No, he just cheats at kitten poker.

The demon runs for his life but she barely notices cause she’s just on the ground, readjusting. Again.

He offers her a hand up and she looks at him for a full five minutes before she takes it, letting it go as soon as she can, and then running back to the Magic Box.

They find the others all back to themselves. Giles and Anya aren’t looking at each other and Xander looks rather pleased with himself but Tara is crying and Willow looks devastated.

At that point Buffy thinks she deserves to be. She knows Willow did this. She knows it.

Giles leaves that night. Buffy doesn’t say goodbye to him.

And then Tara moves out while Dawn cries and refuses to talk to anyone. A rather subdued Veronica and Logan take Tara back to Veronica’s dorm where she’s going to live for the time being. Willow’s disappeared.

Xander takes a suddenly randy (Hey! Amnesiac Buffy learned a new word today) Anya home with a red, but pleased look on his face.

Buffy wanders a bit. She should be home with Dawn, but she’s too upset. Instead she goes to the Bronze. Hail, the almighty Bronze, ever there in times of trouble.

She’s there for a long time just thinking and she doesn’t come to any conclusions. The problem is she knows she can’t come to most of them by herself.

She’s alone, but she does have someone who wants to be there for her and she wants him to be there for her. She just doesn’t know if she can be there for him.

“You think any harder you’ll pop,” Spike says from behind her.

She sighs and looks away from him and then girds herself.

“We should talk,” she says and leads him upstairs to where it’s less noisy.

He looks nervous and she doesn’t blame him.

“Sorry for being avoid-y,” she says. “It’s been a tough week.”

“Tough few months,” he tells her.

“Right,” she says with a smile. “Point is, I just don’t know who I am anymore. And you know that better than anyone. And what we had before was…it was nice, but I’m not that girl anymore.”

“You’re never not you,” he says with a hint of a smile. “You’re changed, you’re in pain, but you’re still you. It doesn’t mean we have to pick up where we left off…”

“But you want to.”

It’s a fact.

“Slayer-“ he starts and then groans. “Buffy, I love you. Made no bones about that for a long time now. But it’s never been about me. I’m never gonna stop loving you even when you’re dust. Might be you never feel the same way despite what we had before. Still, I’m not gonna stop being there for you. Never gonna leave.”

“That’s the problem!” she says. “You don’t go. You just stay and be perfect and that’s the most infuriating thing ever.”

“A bit ironic too,” he points out.

“Irony to be had for all,” she agrees. “Because you’re a vampire and you shouldn’t be this wonderful and Giles should be and I shouldn’t care about whether or not I hurt you. But I do. I’m dealing with so much right now and I can’t be fair to you.”

“Bollocks,” he says. “Look, you’re going through hell but you and me isn’t about that. Gut instinct, first reaction, what do you want?”

“You,” she says and looks him bravely in the eyes.

“Done,” he says, but he doesn’t make any moves.

“Can you live with that?” she asks, speaking about more than their words.

“Haven’t lived with anything for a long time, love,” he says. “I think I’m good.”

“You’re just as full of crap as I am,” she tells him, but she’s moved closer and she’s put her arms around his neck.

“Gotta love me anyway,” he says, smiling a bit.

“Spike…” she says, feeling bad.

“Not looking for a declaration of sorts,” he says firmly, forcing her chin up to look at him. “We’ll take this slow. You set the pace. I just get to be here.”

“Tell me,” she says finally. “Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“Only if you promise to do the same.”

“I’m gonna hurt no matter what you do,” she says. “But thank you.”

And then she gives in before he can say anything else and the kissing starts and she feels a little bit better. She wants to devour who he is and keep him inside of her because he can dull the pain and the dead man has the spark of life in him and she knows…deep in her gut…that he will never leave her.

It may not be right or simple but it’s better than before, kissing Spike, feeling Spike, knowing Spike, letting Spike love her, giving him what she can.

She pulls apart from him for one second, resting her forehead against his, catching her breath, then dives back in, trying her hardest to draw everything she can from him.

She can’t regret it.