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Fic: Infinitas Infinitio Infinitus (3/5)
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters/Pairing: Buffy/Spike, Angel, Dawn
Genre: Romance, Angst
Timeline: post-"Not Fade Away"
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Learning to live is a lot harder than learning to die. And just when Buffy masters one, she learns she's a novice at the other.
Installment: Chapter 3 of 5
Chapter one here. Chapter two here.
Chapter Three
He glances toward the dining room for the twenty-seventh time in the last eighteen minutes. Christ, he hates that insidious jealousy that still claws at his insides. He knows Buffy doesn’t want Angel anymore: she chose him, even after the Foreheaded One became human and could finally offer her a normal life. He knows neither one of them feel that way about each other anymore, and even if they did, they would never act on it.
He knows that, but he is who he is. Insecurities hidden as deep as he can, but always there. Always ready to ambush him and wrestle him into a stranglehold.
God, he wants to burst in there and steal his wife away.
A hand falls onto his shoulder, and he jumps.
“Relax. I just passed to ‘get some more ice.’” Dawn slides up beside him and shakes her glass. The sound of the ice sloshing back and forth in the scotch seems as loud as the crash of ocean waves. “They’re just talking.”
He looks away, scowls, growls, “I know that.”
“Yeah, you know it. But your stupid inferiority complex doesn’t know it.” She shoves the glass into his hand, and the ring on his finger clinks against the glass. “Drink up, moron brother-in-law of mine.”
Obedient as always—Dawn’s the only one he’s ever obeyed without question—he downs the scotch in one gulp and hands the glass back to her.
“So, what did you do?”
“What?”
“Buffy’s crying. She only ever cries over you now. Or when someone dies.”
He feels a jerk on his coat sleeve, and it isn’t till he looks down and sees that Dawn has grabbed hold of it that he realizes he’d started off toward Buffy.
“Whoa. Slow down, lover boy. If she wants you to comfort her, she’ll let you know.”
His hands clench into fists. “I can’t—“
She sets the glass down on a nearby table, and her fingers start prying his fists apart. “Yeah. You can. Sit.”
She not-too-gently pushes him down onto the nearby couch—one that’s certainly as old as he is; he remembers that kind of discomfort that only the Victorians were capable of from his human days—and plops down beside him, dropping her heels on the floor and curling her legs beneath her. “I was kidding about it being about you. I wouldn’t have if I’d known you would take it so seriously. So she’s finally facing the fact that she’s not aging, isn’t she?”
His head whips around, and he gapes at her. “How the bloody hell did you—“
She laughs, and the sound reminds him of Joyce. “Spike, when will you figure out that I’m smarter than you? And that the two of you can’t hide anything from me?”
It’s true. She always notices, and he should really have stopped being surprised by now.
He looks down at his hand and spins the ring on his left ring finger. “I don’t know what to say to her, how to help. But she won’t even let me try! Goes runnin’ off first thing this morning, won’t even talk to me here, holes up all cozy-like with bloody Angel.” Then, so low he doesn’t expect her to hear: “Says I’m not enough.”
But she’s Dawn. So of course she hears. “Oh, Spike. Of course you’re not.”
He doesn’t even try to hide his wince of pain from her. What would be the point? She sees right through him.
“Spike.” She scoots closer, pulling his arm around her, lays her head on his shoulder. So proprietary, even now, just like she was as a girl. “She’s not like you. You love us, and you’re going to be torn up when you lose us—especially me—but as long as you have Buffy, you’ll be able to be happy. But she’s not like that. You’ve said it yourself, over and over: her friends and family make her different. She’s human, Spike. You’re never going to be the whole of her world, and you shouldn’t be. It isn’t healthy to wrap up everything you are in one single person—even if you know that person is never going to leave. And if she did do that, not care about anyone else, make everything only about you, she wouldn’t be Buffy anymore.” She slips her hand into his.
“I know,” he whispers. “I know that.”
“And of course there are gonna be moments she won’t be able to look at you. Other than looking at herself in the mirror, you’ve gotta be the one thing that most reminds her of the way time in her life doesn’t flow the way it’s supposed to. I mean—when you’re standing next to Giles? He’s like a fourth of your age, and you look so young and he’s getting old and will only get older. Of course that’s going to hurt her to see.”
“I don’t ever want to hurt her.”
“She knows that. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t.”
“I never thought anyone’d ever look at eternal life as anything but a gift.”
Dawn cranes her neck to look at him. “Are you really surprised? This is Buffy. Jumping off the tower, clawing her way out of her grave, deep depression about being alive…any of this ringing a bell? Besides, it’s not like she’s really going to live forever.”
Something in his stomach jumps.
“I mean, even with all the other Slayers dealing with the apocalypses—and can I just say, ‘It’s about time’? It’s ridiculous the amount of those Buffy’s had to face; it’s about time someone else takes on the big stuff—even with how good she is—“
“None better. Not ever,” he cuts in.
“Even with you watching her back and all of us with our mojo and our books, sooner or later, something’ll get her.”
But you can kill a hundred. A thousand. A thousand thousand and the armies of Hell besides. And all we need... is for one of us, just one, sooner or later, to have the thing we’re all hoping for.
And that would be what?
One. Good. Day.
He doesn’t realize he’s growling low in his throat till she tugs on his hair. “Hey. Game face away now. You don’t want to scare the kiddies.”
He forces himself to fall into the old familiar rhythms of teasing. “Those hooligans? They’re more fearless than any of the rest of us. Probably scare off anything wicked that this way comes with all their noise.” But he shakes his head, slipping back into human face again.
“But you know I’m right.”
He doesn’t even pretend to misunderstand her. “Yeah. I know she won’t…not forever. But she could last a good long time.” She will last a good long time.
“And a good long time is going to be a lot longer than is natural for anyone else. A lot longer than she wants to keep going. You know that.”
He buries his face in her hair. She’s changed shampoos dozens of times since he’s known her, but he can still discern her scent underneath, the one that sends him back to those days when Buffy was dead and Dawn was his only comfort in the world.
“What do I do?” He barely murmurs the words, but again, she hears. He was counting on that.
“You just stay. Let her leave if she has to, spend time with other people. Because you know she’s always coming back to you. Just listen when she talks and hold her when she cries.”
“I do that already.” He hates when he sounds this petulant, but he can’t help it.
“Right. You do. You’re the most impatient person I’ve ever met, and yet, somehow, you’re the only one I can imagine putting up with all of Buffy’s baggage.”
“She puts up with my baggage, too,” he points out, always eager to defend his love.
“Which is why you’re perfect for each other. I’m sure she does the same sorts of things for you when your soul pinches, right?”
It’s true. All the tenderness he’d wanted from her during the Sunnydale days, the kind she’d convinced herself she wasn’t capable of giving…she’s rich with it now, offering it freely, there to whisper soft words while he weeps at night when the nightmares just. Won’t. Stop.
This is what we do, she whispers.
And it is.
“She hurt me today.” Again, he says the words so quietly that it’s almost like he hasn’t said them at all. Because he feels a pang of guilt for talking about these things with anyone who isn’t them, even if it is Dawn.
“I know. I could tell when you walked in.”
“She hasn’t…she hasn’t done anything like that in a really long time. I didn’t expect it.”
“And that made it hurt all the worse.”
“Yeah.”
She tugs his head down to her shoulder, and he’s reminded again of the longest summer of his life—or un—when he only let himself weep when Dawn was there.
“At first, no one thought you two would make it.” Her tone is different now, like she’s telling a story to her children, like she should have started off with Once upon a time. “You’d both hurt each other so much, and, as far as the rest of us could see, you seemed to bring out the worst in each other.” He starts to protest, but she tugs on his hair to keep him quiet. “We thought that because you were so private; we never saw what went on with you the last year in Sunnydale. We never knew that you started growing up.”
He snorts at that, at the idea of this little girl—he still so often thinks of her that way, though she appears to be more of a woman now than Buffy—watching them “grow up.” But he knows she’s right.
“You’ve come so far. It’s like you’ve matured right in front of our eyes. When you told me you’d decided you wouldn’t ever hit each other except when you were sparring, even though you both could take it and hitting isn’t for you like it is with other people, I knew you could really get there. And you have.
“But, Spike, she’s still Buffy. She may be all grown-up Buffy now, but her first instinct is still to run, to leave before she gets left. And she isn’t one for really talking about her emotions. That isn’t right, and it’s not okay, but it is her.”
“I thought she was really gone.”
“She was wrong, Spike. But the way she looked at you when you came in tonight…I think she knows that.”
They lapse into silence again, and he strains his ears, fancying he’ll be able to hear whatever it is Buffy and Brooding are talking about.
Connor appears in the door, looks first to his wife, and gives her that strange little half-smile that reminds Spike so much of Angel, despite the fact that the young man doesn’t look anything like his dad. Then he turns his attention to Spike. “Um, Buffy’s gone out.”
Spike is on his feet within seconds. “Where?” he barks.
“Dad said she said something about killing something.”
Continued here.
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Dawn is so wise as she talks to Spike; cause Buffy is still Buffy.
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Thanks so much! I'm so glad you enjoyed it!
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Thanks for reviewing!
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But you can kill a hundred. A thousand. A thousand thousand and the armies of Hell besides. And all we need... is for one of us, just one, sooner or later, to have the thing we’re all hoping for.
And that would be what?
One. Good. Day.
Poor Spike, he's been worrying about Buffy before but now...
And I love your Dawn, she's the wise one in the family.
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And I love your Dawn, she's the wise one in the family.
Thank you so much. I love writing her.
Thank you so much for reviewing. I appreciate it more than I can say.
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youngwoman, but when you write her, no matter what, you still manage to maintain that great Dawn-ness and that's just magnificent.The concept of this story is fascinating, and all of the characters are wonderfully captured, but yay(!) Dawn.
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Thanks so much for taking the time to review. It really means a lot to me.
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Your prose is beautiful and totally enjoyable, and the main idea of this is just...excellent, really. Your characterization is more than great as well, Buffy, Spike, Angel, Dawn... It's 20 years in the future, and yet, it's totally believable!
In other words, I can't wait for more! :D Awesome story, thank you for sharing :))
*Elialys*
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It's 20 years in the future, and yet, it's totally believable! That's one of the best compliments I could imagine. Thank you so much!
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“Spike, when will you figure out that I’m smarter than you?
I love your Dawn so much!
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Oh, wise Dawn, telling Spike what he needs to hear. She's pretty great, isn't she?
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Lovely Dawn and Spike moment. I am delighted they have resumed their close friendship. I missed that.
Excellent update.
Kathleen
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And I always missed the Spike/Dawn relationship after the beginning of S6, too, so I always have a tendency to want to plug it into whatever I'm writing. ;)
Thanks so much!
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:) Looking forward to the next part! Please don't keep us waiting too long ;)
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Sorry it's been taking me so long--I had very little internet access last week. Hopefully I can get the next chapter up tonight. *crosses fingers*
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I was actually looking through your other fics, and....wow! You are a wonderful writer for starters and you have these awesome crossovers and stories between pretty much every single show I'm currently in love with (Supernatural, FNL, and Gossip Girl to name a few).
Would you mind if I friend you? :) I love having BtVS fans on my flist as well. Thanks!
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Thank you so much! You're too kind. I'm really glad you enjoyed what you read, and definitely, let's be friends.
[EDIT] Sorry--for some reason I thought you'd written some stuff I've read, but I guess maybe not? That's so weird that I thought that.
Fic: Infinitas Infinitio Infinitus (3/5)
The talk helped Spike - at last I hope it did.
Now I hope Buffy won't do something stupid - like getting too careless.
Re: Fic: Infinitas Infinitio Infinitus (3/5)
Now I hope Buffy won't do something stupid - like getting too careless. Yeah, me, too.
Thanks, as always, for reviewing!