DISCLAIMER: The Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters are the property of Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon, and Fox Studios. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2002 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.
No Superman
by Djinn
I am no superman
I have no answers for you
I am no hero, oh that's for sure
But I do know one thing
Where you are is where I belong
I do know where you go is where I want to be
— Where Are You Going, Dave Matthews Band
"Just take it
slow," Buffy whispered. Her voice was everything that Spike had imagined
during the long torturous hours in the cave. It was the voice that had kept him
sane, that had kept his dreams a haven.
"You came for me."
"Of course, I came for
you." Her tone didn't invite further comment. She helped him through the
tunnel. He could barely see where they were going; his eyes would soon swell completely
shut. When they reached a larger chamber, she stopped in the entranceway and
eased him against the wall, waiting to see if could stand unsupported. "We're
getting out of here," she said, pointing up.
Spike could just make out a
hole above his head. A rope ladder hung down from it. She thinks I'm too weak
to shinny up a rope, he thought. As he moved and pain erupted from every part
of his body, he realized she was probably right.
She helped him to the rope
ladder and as he leaned on her, he heard her take a sharp gasp of breath. He
realized she was in pain too and tried to not lean too heavily on her. He saw
her wince as she helped him climb. This ladder wasn't just for him: she needed
as much of a break as he did. "You're hurt," he whispered.
"Not as badly as you
are." She looked up at him. "Not as badly as I might have been if
beheading hadn't worked on the Turok-Han."
"I knew you'd kill that
sodding bastard."
"Yeah, I beat it." Her
voice trailed off as she heaved him the final way out of the hole, into a dirt
lot, then pulled herself out slowly.
He noticed that it seemed to
take a lot for her to push herself to her feet. She turned and Spike followed
her gaze. He could barely make out Xander standing next to a very large cement
truck.
"I don't want anything
else working in those chambers, Xan." She pulled Spike to his feet gently,
then moved him away from the hole.
Xander maneuvered a large
spout over the opening to the cave. He hit a control on the back of the truck,
and wet cement began to fill the hole.
Spike started to laugh, but
the laugh turned into a groan as the movement pulled already wrenched muscles
in his chest. "That'll get her attention," he said softly.
"Oh, we'll do more than
just get her attention." He'd never heard Buffy's voice more resolved.
Xander looked over, and Spike
tensed, ready for the verbal attack that he knew was sure to come.
"Glad to see you're
okay," Xander said, and something in his voice captured Spike's attention.
He sounded different. Grown up. It was unsettling. "Are you still under
that thing's control?" Xander asked.
Spike had the feeling that
Xander wouldn't have a problem staking him if he said yes. Or if he said no,
and lied. He told the truth, wanted to tell the truth. It was to his credit,
after all. "She couldn't break me. And she lost her power over me the more
she tried."
"Yeah, the First Evil's
big with the talking," Xander agreed as he turned off the hose. He walked
up to the cab, talking to someone inside. Then the truck began to move, pulling
away. A few seconds later another truck backed into the lot. Xander motioned it
back to the hole, then pulled down the spout and started the cement flowing
again. It took five truck-loads to completely fill the hole. "You weren't
wrong about those dimensions, Buff."
She barely smiled, just stood
in silence as he closed off the First's lair. "She won't be using that
place again." She put Spike's arm back over her shoulder and started to
walk wearily in the direction of the house.
"Wouldn't you rather
ride, Buff?" Xander said softly.
She stopped, didn't look up
at Xander or at Spike as she turned around and began to trudge to the truck. "Ride.
Yes. Good."
She was exhausted, Spike
realized. Hurt and tired beyond reason. The last time he'd seen her like this
had been during the fight with Glory. She'd pushed and pushed and then...she'd
died. He blinked rapidly, trying not to remember the grief he'd felt when he'd
seen her body crash to the ground. She had bounced when she hit the concrete
blocks. He hadn't thought of that since she'd come back. Hadn't heard the sound
of her soft body connecting with hard stone since she'd been resurrected. "No,"
he groaned.
She stopped instantly. "Spike?"
He forced himself to stand on
his own. Swallowed the pain that nearly overwhelmed him as he took a step
without her help, then another. He had to fight to keep his balance. But he
would not add to her pain. That wasn't why he'd come back. Not why he'd won his
soul. "Come on, Slayer. Night's not getting any younger." His voice
was a pale imitation of his normal cocky tone, but he saw her smile, the little
half-smile where only one side of her lip curled up.
As he took another step
toward where Xander waited, he saw Buffy nod, and he felt as if she'd just
found him worthy...as if he'd finally passed some test.
It took a long time to walk
to the truck. She made it long before he did, but she waited silently for him
to catch up, leaning up against the open door of the truck.
His voice was low, so that
only she could hear him as he said, "You believed in me." He crawled
up into the cab.
"I still do," she
said just as softly, pushing him up slightly when his strength faltered. Then
she hauled herself up next to him.
Spike leaned his head on the
back of the cab and heard Xander say to the driver, "Let's go,
Lenny."
"Rough night,
boss," Lenny said.
"You don't know the half
of it," Xander said.
Spike could feel Buffy's leg
against his; there was no help for it in the crowded cab. Her warmth soothed
him.
"I'm going to need your
help," she said quietly. "You're going to have to heal fast."
"We can have a
race," he said, touching his eye gently. It was completely closed but it
didn't hurt as much as it had.
"I'll win," she
said, no doubt in her voice. He wondered what had happened to make her so much
stronger, so much more determined. Was it just that she didn't care any more?
"We've got a bunch of girls
to get ready," she continued, "potential slayers. And most of them
haven't had any training."
"Sounds
interesting," he said.
"I guess. It's crowded
in the house. The basement is a training room now."
Nowhere for him to sleep, in
other words. "I'll find a corner somewhere," he said softly.
"The couch is
mine," Xander muttered.
"We'll work it
out," she said finally. "Sleep is the least of our problems."
"You need sleep, Buffy. I
can smell how tired you are."
"I'll be fine."
"She won't listen to any
of us," Xander said, resignation in his voice. This was an old argument
apparently.
"I'm fine, Xander,"
Buffy said.
"Right," he said,
trailing off in a way that made it clear he didn't agree.
She needs to rest. Spike nearly jumped as he heard Joyce's voice, close
to his ear, as if she was sitting behind him, which would have been impossible
in the single cab. Get her to sleep. Or she'll be too tired.
For a second, Spike wondered
if it was the voice of the First, following him back to Buffy's. Then he felt a
sense of presence, as Joyce touched him on his shoulder. The pain from where
the joint had been dislocated during one of the many torture sessions stopped
when Joyce touched him. This wasn't the First. That thing hadn't been able to
touch him.
Joyce's voice got closer,
lower. Take care of her, Spike.
"I will. I
promise," he answered, only barely aware he had said it out loud.
"Huh?" Xander said.
"Nice to see he's back to being crazy talks-to-himself guy."
Spike was actually relieved
to have nasty Xander back. Made the world seem normal again. And survivable. He
ignored Xander and turned to Buffy. "You have to sleep to heal."
"There's no time."
"We have to make
time," he reached out and found her cheek more by instinct than sight. "Look
at me, Buffy. I need some rest or I'm no good to you. Just a few hours. No
interruptions. No disturbances. You need the same. Or you'll be no good to
anyone."
"He's not wrong,"
Xander chimed in.
"I'll be no good to
anyone if I can't figure out how we're going to beat this thing yet. I have to
think, have to plan."
He shook his head. "Let
someone else plan. Just for a while."
"I can't."
He dropped his hand. Tried to
let Joyce know he'd tried but she wasn't going to sleep. He heard Buffy yawn
and wondered how long before she became too tired to think. Too tired to
prevent that crucial mistake he'd told her about so long ago. The First was
going to have herself a real good day, if that happened.
But Buffy wouldn't go down
alone. Not this time. No matter what happened, no matter how the final battle
came, he'd be by her side. And they'd win together.
Or he'd die for her and she'd
win.
Or they'd die together.
Spike found that it didn't
much matter to him anymore. His path was unknown, but his place was clear. It
would be by her side.
He wouldn't have to dream
about saving her. Not this time. She wouldn't leave him behind again. He'd help
her win the fight. Or he'd die trying.
He laughed then. The movement
didn't hurt as much as it had earlier. I'll take care of her, Joyce, he
promised again. I'm not much, but whatever I am, it's at her disposal.
An unlikely champion. Certainly no superman. Just a man that wanted to make a
difference. A vampire that wanted to make the Slayer's life easier.
Like Angel. God, the big doof would be laughing at him about now, Spike thought as
he relaxed against the cab. He quit fighting sleep, let his overtaxed muscles
and nerves relax.
Angel was standing in front
of him, laughing. Then he turned into Dru. "Did you think you could
escape?"
Before Spike could answer,
Joyce appeared and said, "Get out." She had a huge sword in her
hands, and she lifted it then turned it and slammed the point into the ground
between Dru and Spike. She began to glow, shining as brightly as the sun that
meant death to Spike. He closed his eyes.
But it didn't hurt his eyes,
didn't burn him. He opened his eyes in time to see Dru morph into Buffy, then
something else, something that wasn't human.
"You're no
champion," it screamed at him, as it turned back into Dru, who promptly
exploded into dust.
"You killed it."
"Only here, in your
dreams. It's the only place I can keep you safe so you can protect Buffy when
the time comes. Sleep now. No one will hurt you, while I'm here."
"I'll protect her,"
he said as solemly as he could.
"I know you will." She
touched him.
All thought deserted him, as
Spike fell into a healing, dreamless, and utterly safe sleep.
FIN