Return to Sender, Part 6 Author: Elsa Frohman Rating: PG-13 Spoilers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is over, done, kaput. Summary: Bringing Spike back from the beyond, version 238.
She was still, her breathing all but imperceptible. How long
since she'd stirred? Weeks? Days? So hard to judge time when
so much had changed. Everything had changed -- except her.
She was frozen in amber, caught somewhere else, leaving only
this shell behind.
Angel sat in the semi-darkened room holding her hand. It was
warm, there was a faint pulse, but that was the only indication
that he was touching living flesh. He'd touched many a dead
hand that had more life in it than this.
"Lorne had an opening tonight," he said softly. "I suppose I
should have gone, but ... You would have gone, wouldn't you?
You'd have insisted, and dragged me along with you. We'd
have gone together. Don't feel much like going out now..."
She was so pale. She was never pale. She loved the sun. She
had at least a dozen bikinis. She liked thong sandals, straw
purses, oversized sunglasses and gauze cover-ups.
"You'd like my new office," he said. "Big windows. I'm
keeping the curtains closed most of the time now. Still not
comfortable with the sun on me. But when you come back, I
swear I'll keep them open all the time."
"She's still beautiful..."
Angel looked up. He'd heard the other come in, naturally. And
he'd known who it was. Funny, his scent was still recognizable,
even if he was alive now. No, it wasn't funny at all.
"Go away, Spike."
"Not until we talk."
"I don't feel like dealing with you right now."
"Tough."
"OK, talk. Just don't expect me to listen."
"Don't know why you'd start now."
Angel's head came up, and he shot Spike a poisonous look.
"You know what pisses me off about you?"
"No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me."
"You got it all. Everything I was working for. Everything I
wanted. And as soon as you did, you tossed her aside."
"Oh, did I?"
"You know what I mean. She's suffering. She's grieving. And
you could stop it. But you're through with that toy now. Ready
for the next. You don't give a damn!"
Spike was silent for a moment. He came to the side of
Cordelia's bed opposite Angel.
"I think you're confused, mate."
"I'm not confused. You make me sick."
"It's not as simple as all that, old man. I got my reasons."
"So? You're the one who wants to talk. Why? Why are you
letting Buffy grieve when you could make her happy?"
Spike took a deep breath. "She might be happy for a little
while, but..."
"What is it, Spike? You trying to be the noble martyr and step
aside for me? You expect me to believe that?"
A short, bitter laugh escaped Spike. "Sorry, mate. If that was it,
I wouldn't step aside. Not on your unlife. Head-to-head, I got
you beat six ways to Sunday."
"Oh, right. You'd be so good for her..."
"Better'n you, mate. Damn sight better."
"OK, then why? Enlighten me, Spike. Tell me why you have
everything you claimed you wanted in your grasp, and you're
walking away."
Spike looked down at Cordelia for a long moment. "She was
always so particular about her hair. You should have a
hairdresser in for her. She'd hate it if she knew you were
looking at her with it all straight and growing out without a
proper cut."
"This isn't about Cordy, and you know it. You barely knew
Cordy!"
"That's true, but I know what was important to her."
"You know nothing! She grew up, Spike. She wasn't that vain,
self-absorbed little girl anymore. She cared about people."
"Yeah... I believe you. But she's still Cordelia..."
"Don't change the subject. Why won't you let Buffy know
you're back?"
"That's my business, mate."
Spike turned to leave, but Angel was up and blocking his way
in a heartbeat.
"You're not leaving until you answer the question."
"Don't be so sure that my heartbeat means you can push me
around, Peaches," Spike said with a snarl.
"You want to have it out? 'Cause if that's what you want, I'm
ready."
Spike took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. "No, I
don't want to fight with you. I really don't. No point to it."
"Answer the question!"
They stared, eye-to-eye, until Spike turned away.
"How long's it been since the apocalypse?" he asked quietly.
"This one? About a week and a half, give or take a day, I
guess."
"Longer for me. Time doesn't move the same on the other
planes."
"I know..."
"Yeah, you did a hundred years in a hell dimension -- I forgot.
Thing is, where I was ... it wasn't hell."
Angel continued to glare at him.
"Part of being where I was, is you get to see how some things
turn out. You can see the beginnings and endings, the cycles
and eddies in lives. You can know that the people you care
about are going to make it through, find their place, fill their
destinies."
"You know Buffy's future?"
"A lot of it."
"You know you're not supposed to be part of it..."
"Not exactly. Futures aren't like that. Just possibilities. There
are hundreds and thousands of ways things could turn out. But
I do know that she's got a good life ahead of her. She's going to
know love -- real love, given and received. There will be
family, and friends, and accomplishment, and loss. It's a future
worth having.
"But the man who's going to make her happy -- it isn't me..."
Angel opened his mouth to speak, but Spike stopped him.
"And it isn't you. But you knew that already."
"I suppose I did," Angel said quietly. "But that doesn't tell me
why you won't let her know you came through -- let her stop
grieving."
"She'll stop grieving. Time heals ..."
"She's going to find out, sooner or later. You know that, don't
you?"
"Yeah, I know that," Spike said with a sad smile. "And she's
going to be so angry with me -- good thing I've got some extra
strength..."
"You should get it over with. It'll only be worse later."
Spike laughed bitterly and shook his head. "No... if you think I
could go to her now, and still walk away... I guess you have a
better opinion of my self-control than I do.
"No, she'd see me. And she'd be grateful for all I did...
everything I did for her and because of her. She'd think she
owes me something -- and she doesn't. I ended up with more
than I could have hoped for.
"But if she was standing here in front of me, next thing you'd
know I'd be moving to Cleveland..."
Angel turned his back. "So that's it. A martyr complex."
"Call it what you like. No difference to me."
"What do you want from me? A welcome-home hug? You're
back. You get to annoy me for another lifetime. Oh, joy..."
"Don't need anything from you, Peaches. I just thought I ought
to pay my respects."
"Good. Respects paid. Now clear off..."
Spike didn't move to leave. "One more thing. Your people --
they've been very good to me. It made a lot of difference... I
can't help but wonder... if there had been somebody who could
have done for Buffy what they've done for me... things could
have been so different."
"They're good people," Angel said. "But you'd better tell them
that, not me. I had nothing to do with it."
"No? I'd say you had a lot to do with it..."
"Just go, Spike. I don't need this... you're the same as you've
always been. Drifting... letting things happen. You don't have a
clue to why you're back, do you?"
Spike chuckled. "Actually, I do."
"Oh? Why then?"
"I could have stayed where I was. It was warm there, and light,
and I felt loved, safe and comfortable. I could have stayed. But
I had a choice..."
Angel frowned. "I should have guessed. You've had a taste of
being the hero now. Got to sacrifice yourself to save the world.
Now you're dying to do it again. You're back to find yourself
another apocalypse to stop."
"Not even close, mate. Not by a long sight."
"OK, what is it then."
Spike paused to gather his thoughts.
"I've had a taste of being the hero, that's right. But, you know,
when people say you're a hero, a lot of the time, they mean
you've died a good death.
"I've done that, for sure. And it's a trip. But that's not what I'm
looking for now. I've died well -- but I have yet to live well."
"That's all? You want to live well?"
"You should try it sometime, mate."
Spike turned to go.
"You're going to need a job," Angel said quietly.
"I'll find something..."
"No, somewhere in the universe it's written down that
somebody has to make my life unbearable -- it might as well be
you."
"Not sure I want to sign on. I've heard about Wolfram & Hart
contracts..."
"We'll take you on as day labor. It might be useful to have
someone on call who isn't bound by the standard contract."
"If you say so, Peaches."
Angel gritted his teeth. "Yeah, I say so. One more thing,
Spike..."
"Yeah?"
"If you keep calling me Peaches, I'm going to tear your head
off..."