Previously in "Sum": A freak accident has split Buffy into two not-so-equal pieces. The Scoobies are trying to find a way to fix things, while Spike's been busy getting familiarized with Buffy and Slayer. All is quiet. Too quiet . . .
Chapter 10 Breakdown
Spike sat alone on the back porch, watching the stars come
out and trying to make sense of the past twenty-four hours.
He was having a hard time accepting it, but it had seemed all afternoon as
though the Buffys were fighting over him. Nothing overt. Looks cast in the
other’s direction. A possessive hand laid on his arm or shoulder. Slayer had
used him more than usual in demonstrations for the girls while Buffy watched,
unable to participate. Buffy had brought him his blood at dinner, surprising the
Slayer with her mouth full.
He had to keep reminding himself that it didn’t mean anything. Red would slap
them back together any time and, if he wasn’t a big pile of dust, he’d go back
to being cellar dweller and training dummy, just the way it should be.
It shouldn’t feel so damn good that they both wanted him
“Hey.”
He looked over his shoulder to see Buffy leaning against the railing behind him.
“Evenin’, pet. Where’s your other half?”
She came over and sat next to him, folding her hands in front of her. “She went
up to lay down for a bit before patrol. Said she wasn’t feeling one hundred
percent.”
“I’d imagine being split in two would do that to a girl.”
She shrugged. “I feel fine.”
“Didn’t have as strenuous a day as she did.”
“It had its moments.” She smiled knowingly.
He couldn’t help but smile back. “That it did, pet. That it did.”
She started picking at a fingernail. “Are you going to go patrolling with her
tonight?”
“If she wants me to.” He needed a cigarette. And a large quantity of alcohol.
“What if I need you to stay here? With me?”
He looked at her incredulously. “You’re a bleedin’ menace, the both of you, you
know that? If I was smart, I’d get the hell away from here until this whole
thing’s sorted out.”
“Good thing for us you’re a dummy.” She wrapped her arms around him and rested
her cheek on his chest.
He sighed and put his arm around her. “Yeah, that’s me, the village idiot.” He
dropped a light kiss on the top of her head.
They sat like that for a while, quietly watching the moon creep over the hedge
as he gently ran her hair through his fingers. She looked up at him, her eyes
soft in the growing moonlight. “Spike . . .”
A wail of agony shattered the calm.
Buffy’s eyes were huge. “That’s her! I feel . . .”
“Go.” He pushed her towards the door, surging up to the roof in two strides
before she’d entered the house. Instinct started him toward her old window where
he had watched her so many nights before he remembered the room change and
turned toward Joyce’s old window. The sash lifted easily and he slid inside.
She lay on the bed, writhing in pain. He gathered her into his arms, still warm
from holding Buffy. “Shh, shh, s’okay, ‘m here now.” He rocked her, cooing
gently and stroking her hair.
“Hurts,” she moaned, agony making her voice tremble. “Like I’m coming apart.
God, make it stop!” She struggled against him in her pain.
Buffy raced in the door to stop next to the bed. “What is it?” she asked, taking
her twin’s free hand.
Slayer calmed almost instantly.
“What’s going on?” Xander panted as he, Willow and Dawn appeared in the doorway.
“She’s hurting,” Buffy said, never taking her eyes off Slayer, stroking her hand
gently. “I can feel it. Like a trembling all over.”
Dawn ducked out and came back a moment later with the polar fleece throw from
her room. “Here,” she offered it to Buffy.
Buffy released Slayer’s hand to shake out the blanket. As soon as she stepped
away, Slayer began whimpering in pain again. “Shh,” Buffy murmured, smoothing
her hair to calm her.
“Buffy, come here,” Willow asked, her voice concerned.
“But . . .”
“Just for a minute.”
She looked back at the bed in worry, but crossed over to her friend.
Slayer let out another cry, reaching out blindly.
Willow gave Buffy a push back. “Go back.”
She flew back to the bed, climbing up to spoon against Slayer. Spike loosened
his grip, letting Buffy gather her suffering twin in her own arms to caress her
hand and shoulder soothingly.
“Spike.” Harris and Dawn had slipped into the hall, and Willow gestured for him
to follow.
“Be right back.” He kissed them both on the forehead before sliding out of the
bed.
He closed the door gently behind him. “You know what’s going on, Red?”
“I think so,” she said hesitantly.
Xander picked up on her vibe. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“I don’t really know. I think her physical body is starting to break down.
There’s not enough matter to keep her solid. You saw how she calmed down when
Buffy touched her?” They all nodded. “Her energy field is helping to stabilize
the Slayer’s, slowing the deterioration. It’s like their auras are merging,
tricking Slayer’s body into thinking she’s whole. But it’s only a matter of time
. . .”
Dawn’s face clearly showed her worry. “Maybe it’s time we got some help.”
Willow looked frustrated. “Giles is the only one I know who has any experience
with this, and we won’t be able to reach him for days. I’ll send an email to
Miranda with the coven; maybe they can come up with a way to stabilize her.
Until then, we keep the two of them together and keep on the research. We have
to find something soon.”
“I’ll go let ‘em know.” Spike started to open the door. “Send some books up.
I’ll go through ‘em and keep an eye on the twins.”
Willow nodded and Dawn turned towards the stairs. “I’ll get them.”
He ignored the look of distrust he got from Xander and went back into the
bedroom.
Slayer had dozed off in Buffy’s arms, curled up like a small child while Buffy
stroked her arm gently. Spike sat next to them. “She okay?”
“Better. The pain’s quiet now.”
“Cuz of you.”
“Me?”
Very softly he explained Willow’s photocopy theory and the balancing effect of
Buffy’s presence. She listened and nodded her understanding.
“So probably the more contact, the better?” she asked when he finished.
He shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt. But you can let her guide you. She seems to know
what she needs.”
Dawn slipped in quietly to leave a stack of books in the armchair by the window.
She stopped at the foot of the bed on her way out. “Willow wrote some
instructions. They’re in the top book. I think she gave you most of the foreign
language stuff.”
He smiled slightly. “Thank you, Dawn.”
She shrugged, watching her sister (sisters?) in the bed, fear plain in her eyes.
“Dawnie, they’re gonna be okay. Willow will take care of them. You’ll see.”
She met his gaze, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Buffy’s always okay, right?”
“Right.”
Her face softened. “Thanks.” And she disappeared out the door.
He shook his head. That was the most words she had said to him since she’d
threatened him three months before.
Maybe this whole situation was helping him on that front, too.
He turned back to Buffy. “You okay? Need anything?” She shook her head. “’kay
then. I’m gonna sit over here and do Red’s research. You need anything, just say
the word.”
“I will. And Spike?” she said as he moved away.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks from me, too.”
He cupped her cheek. “My pleasure, pet.”
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