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The Hardest Thing in the World by Eowyn315
 
Truth
 
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Chapter 12: Truth

“Something’s wrong with her!” Willow’s voice trembled with a fierce desperation that spoke of the depth of her emotion and inner struggle. “I know something’s wrong, but she won’t tell me!”

“So you just thought you’d truth spell it out of her, is that it?” He kept his voice down, so as not to be heard by the two in the living room, but he didn’t bother to mask the fury he felt. How dare this arrogant little girl presume to manipulate her best friend into revealing what she felt it important to keep secret?

Willow’s silence was all he needed to confirm his suspicions.

She glanced down at the carpet, looking every bit the frightened, timid little girl she’d been when he first came to Sunnydale. “She’s been so different, since we brought her back. So… distant. I need her to talk to me.”

“You ever think about what she needs?”

Her head snapped up accusingly. “She’s my best friend.”

“Then maybe you ought to show her a bit more respect.”

Willow sank down on the bed, drawing deep breaths and blinking back tears. “I’m just so scared, Spike. Scared there’s something wrong and it’s my fault.”

He sighed, fighting the conflicting urges within him. He wanted to yell, It is your fault! But he knew that would only make matters worse, and to do so would be breaking Buffy’s trust as surely as the witch’s truth spell would. He wanted to tell her everything, about heaven, about Buffy’s depression, about her nightly dance with death when she patrolled. It killed him inside to see the people she was closest to being pushed away, being so ignorant to her true state of mind, when what she really needed was to be loved and supported and made to want to live again. Without her friends, the burden fell entirely to him, and he felt absurdly inadequate for such a task.

But he could never, never break his promise to her.

He also felt an alien desire to comfort the girl. He could sense her sincere intentions through the fear and the defensiveness, and buggered if he hadn’t been there plenty of times himself. Completely wrong-headed, but trying to do the right thing. She really was trying to help her friend, the only way she knew how.

Someone really needed to teach Red some lessons about the proper uses of magic.

But that wouldn’t be him, and it wouldn’t be tonight. He shook his head, at a loss. “She’ll tell you when she’s ready.” Then his gaze connected with hers, and he held her eyes and said, “And if I find you’ve done anything to – I’ll rip your throat out.”

There was no malice in his voice, just brutal honesty and the fiercest loyalty to the woman he loved. Willow nodded hesitantly, rising from the bed and wiping unshed tears from her eyes. Wearily, Spike said, “Come on, Red. Slayer’s waiting for you birds down at the magic shop.”

He left the room without another word and collected Dawn, who barely had time to call her goodbyes over her shoulder before she was running to catch up with Spike.

“Okay,” she asked him as they walked towards home. “What happened in there?”

“Will and Tara helping you with your homework?” he responded, blatantly ignoring her question.

“…Yeah.”

“What’d you learn?”

“How to levitate things.”

Spike turned toward her, a hint of anger in his eyes. “You shouldn’t be messing with that kind of mojo. It could be dangerous.”

She made a face at his apparent overreaction. “It’s okay, Spike. I wasn’t any good at it anyway. I couldn’t even lift the pencil.”

*****

Spike was asleep on the couch when Buffy came home, a fire poker clenched in one hand. As soon as she walked in the door, he leapt off the sofa, waving the fire poker in her direction. “One more step and I’ll beat you to death!”

Buffy stifled a giggle and flipped the lights on. “It’s me, Spike.”

He lowered his weapon. “I knew that,” he replied, his bravado masking his sheepishness. “Was just… showing you I was ready, is all.”

“Ready for what?”

“Anything.” He placed the fire poker back in its proper place. “That’s me. Spike – ready for anything.”

Buffy shook her head and smiled. “You didn’t have to stay. I’m sure Dawn’s fine. Vampires can’t come in unless invited.”

“Yeah, well, demons can,” he huffed. He didn’t want to admit that his main reason for staying was so that he could see Buffy again that night.

“You can go home now, Spike.” The smile was still on her face. God, he loved that smile, and it had been all too rare lately. Maybe a new Big Bad was just what she needed to get her mind off of other things.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

“For the millionth time, I’m fine.”

“Let me see.”

Buffy obediently stood still as he placed one hand on her chin and the other cradling the back of her head, and turned her head so he could see the wound. There was only a small cut, but the entire area was black and blue, and dried blood had caked in her hair around her temple.

“I could clean it up for you.”

Buffy pulled her head out of his grasp. “Eww!”

“What? Oh, come on! I didn’t mean –” Spike shook his head. “What d’you think I am?”

“A vampire.”

“I meant,” he said through gritted teeth, “I could wash it, you know? With water, and disinfectant, or whatever.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. Is Dawn in bed?” Buffy gestured upstairs to where her sister should be sleeping.

“That she is. I’ll leave you to her.” Spike turned and headed for the door, when something occurred to him. He was sure she would’ve mentioned it if anything had happened, but he needed to make sure. “Hey, you, uh, figure things out tonight? Any big… revelations?”

Buffy stopped on her way up the stairs. “No.”

He breathed a sigh – of relief, though she didn’t know to take it as such. Guess Red had some survival instinct after all. “You will,” he said, nodding to her, and then he was gone. Buffy just shook her head as she headed upstairs.
 
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