A/N: I upped the rating for this chapter, because Spike's a potty-mouth and drops the F-bomb.

Chapter 15: Letting It Out

Buffy sat by the grave, leaning against a nearby tombstone, waiting for the vampire to rise. Sure enough, she heard scratching and digging noises from below, and a figure began to emerge from the dirt. Grabbing her stake, Buffy jumped up and assumed a fighting position. She hesitated for a moment when she saw the vampire. Except for the lumpy brow and the fangs, she could have been somebody’s grandmother. Well, somebody’s evil grandmother.

Buffy resisted the voice in her head that said she shouldn’t hit the elderly and yelled, “Hey, Granny, over here!” As the old woman turned her amber eyes toward the Slayer, Buffy lunged in with the stake. Lightning fast, the woman caught her wrist and held it away from her chest. With a kick to the vampire’s stomach, Buffy freed herself and backed up a few steps.

“Pretty quick for someone your age,” she said, landing another kick to the old woman’s head, knocking her back into a tombstone. “But hey, only the good die young.” One more punch in the face and a stake to the heart, and Buffy was talking to dust. She took a deep breath, pocketed her stake, and headed out for one last loop around the cemetery before heading home.

She was in Spike’s cemetery, and without even noticing where she was going, she found herself, as usual, standing in front of his crypt. She hesitated for a moment, then decided to go in. She eased the door open and crept inside.

“Spike?” Buffy said into almost complete darkness. Usually, Spike had a torch or at least a candle burning. “Spike?” There was no answer to her call.

“Guess he’s not here,” she mumbled to herself, and the thought briefly crossed her mind that she was disappointed. Just as quickly, she discarded it. What did it matter if Spike was here? He was just a drinking buddy, and she didn’t think she should be doing that anymore.

She quickly made to leave, but paused in the entrance, one hand on the door handle. He always seemed to make her feel better somehow. His words, his touch, just his mere presence made her feel stronger, more alive. She turned again to look into the darkness and considered waiting for him. No, that was silly, she decided, and marched back out into the night. She shouldn’t be relying on cold comfort from the evil undead. With a sense of determination that felt more than a little forced, she started away from the crypt.

Buffy hadn’t taken more than five steps before she saw Spike heading towards her. Upon seeing her, the vampire grinned, his tongue sticking out slightly between his teeth. “Looking for me, love?”

Buffy shook her head. “Just on my way home.” She tried to brush past him, but he blocked her path.

“Running off in a bit of a hurry, Slayer. You must have wanted something.” He was testing her. There was only one thing she wanted lately when she came around his place, and after last night, he really didn’t think there ought to be any more of that. “Either that or you’re snooping around my place.”

“I wasn’t snooping.”

“Yeah?” Spike arched his scarred eyebrow. “Popped by for a visit, then?”

“Moment of weakness. But I decided I didn’t need you.”

Spike’s eyes glinted. “I always need you.” His voice was low and husky, and Buffy couldn’t have overlooked the sexual insinuation if she’d tried. Rolling her eyes, she again made a move to leave, but he caught her arm.

Mentally, Spike kicked himself. Fuck, but he was a jerk sometimes. An asshole on autopilot. The insults and lewd comments just rolled off his tongue before he could bite them back, even though he knew that wasn’t what she needed right now.

His eyes softened, as if to retract his suggestive comment. “What is it, love?”

Buffy sighed. “I needed to talk to someone.”

“Someone? Or me?”

“You’re the only one who’s talking to me at the moment,” she said with a shrug.

Spike nodded sympathetically and led her into the crypt. “Quite a bombshell you dropped on them last night. Sure it takes some getting used to. So how bad is it?” he asked, lighting candles as he went.

“Bad. Giles is furious, but I think he can’t decide whether he’s more mad at Willow for bringing me back, or at me for not telling the truth sooner.”

Spike turned to face her, flickering candlelight reflected in his eyes. “It was stupid, what Red did.”

Buffy’s face contorted in confusion.

“Not that I’m not glad you’re here, pet. But the mojo she’s messing with… It could’ve been bad.” Suddenly he was at her side, having covered the distance between them with a vampire’s speed and grace, his hand cradling her face with infinite tenderness. “If you – if you’d’ve come back… wrong, I’d…” His voice hitched and his eyes darkened with unspoken possibilities. He shook his head and let his hand fall to his side, backing away from her slowly. He bent down and lifted the trapdoor in the floor, gesturing for Buffy to climb down.

When he reached the bottom after her, she said, “Well, if it makes you feel better, all four of them are feeling majorly guilty now, especially Will.”

It didn’t make him feel better at all, and he wondered if the lack of schadenfreude meant that he really was starting to become less evil. “And Niblet?” he asked, leading Buffy towards the plush sofa.

“She’s upset, I think because everyone else is upset.” She sighed and looked away from him. “But I think she understands now.”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “Understands what?”

“Why I’ve been acting the way I have.” She sank down on the sofa and wrapped her arms around her body. “Why I’ve been such a terrible sister.”

Spike shook his head. Gripping her shoulders, he forced her to look at him. “You’re not a terrible sister. You did the most incredible thing a sister could do for another.”

Buffy stared at the floor in order to avoid his penetrating gaze, studying the patterns on the Oriental rugs he'd put down to cover the dirty cement beneath. “But since I’ve been back…”

“It takes time, love. You’re in nine kinds of pain and you don’t even know it.” He began to gently stroke her hair, his fingers weaving in and out of her blonde locks, as tears involuntarily started to well up in her eyes. “I don’t expect you to be a hundred percent right away. But you just go on living, and the pain goes away, little by little.”

“Sometimes I just feel numb.” Buffy curled herself up tightly into a ball. “Like nothing in this life matters. But at the same time, it’s like I’m dying inside, slowly, and I don’t want to feel that much pain anymore.”

Spike’s heart broke for her. “C’mere,” he beckoned, holding out his arms. He didn’t actually expect her to – she was much too obstinate and stoic for that – but she surprised him by collapsing against him as a shuddering sob escaped from her. “It’s okay, you can cry.”

She did, weeping against his chest without speaking, while he held her.