Changing Lives by Mabel Marsters

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Chapter 58

Author's Notes: Thakns to Carol for her beta work!!

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Spike was feeling so sick with nerves that it made his stage fright seem like nothing. He’d gotten to Buffy’s house fifteen minutes early and then panicked about it and so had wandered along the streets killing time, which hadn’t helped his state of mind one little bit.

He felt like he had this one chance to try to convince Buffy to forgive him and if he failed then that would be it. Game over. His heart lurched at the thought of never holding her again; hell, she’d probably never even smile at him again.

Spike looked at his watch for about the twentieth time in the last few minutes. Finally it was eleven o’clock. He stopped hovering near the house and walked up to the front door. He took a deep breath and then knocked on it with his left hand. After a minute, which had seemed like an hour, Buffy opened the door.

“Come in,” she said, no hint of a smile present.

Spike swallowed hard. “Buffy,” he croaked as he walked in.

He followed her into the lounge room and didn’t miss the fact that she sat in one of the armchairs, giving him no way of sitting next to her. He sat on the couch in the hope that she might eventually come over to him. He glanced up at her face and she fixed him with a hard stare.

“You said you wanted to talk so…talk,” said Buffy, coldly.

Spike dropped his eyes. He just didn’t know where to start. Now that he was actually here with Buffy waiting he didn’t know what to say. He risked another peep at her; she was looking pretty impatient.

“God, this is hard.”

He stood up. He felt too hot and so stripped off his duster and then walked over to the window and looked outside. With his back to her he found the courage to speak.

“Um…I didn’t decide to be James, I just ended up not telling them that I wasn’t.”

“Look Spike…er…Willi.”

“Spike.” He cut off her words.

“Okay, ‘Spike’. If you’re going to be cryptic about it you can get out now.”

He spun around to face her, afraid that he’d lost his chance before he’d even begun.

“Please Buffy…this is hard. I’m not trying to be cryptic or anything.” He was dismayed to hear a bit of a tremor in his voice.

When she didn’t say anything, he carried on.

“Wot I never told any of you when I came back…”

“Apart from the truth, do you mean?” snapped Buffy.

He visibly flinched at her words and she felt a pang of compassion for him.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, “I’ll be quiet now.”

He nodded.

“I never told any of you that when I came around in the hospital after the crash I couldn’t remember who I was. I didn’t remember anything at all, not even the colour of my eyes.”

Buffy gasped and stared at him, but he’d gone back to gazing out of the window.

“I was unconscious for four days. Rupert had been with me for three days before I woke up. They’d identified me as James because I’d been wearing his coat, which had a travel pass with a photograph in its pocket.”

His eyes fell upon his duster lying on the couch before turning away once more.

“I was really bashed about. I’d gotten the wound around my eye and my nose was a bit bent out of shape and swollen.”

He hadn’t really realised how much the scar and his crooked nose had changed his appearance until he’d seen the photographs from England.

“I didn’t know I wasn’t James for three weeks,” he said quietly.

“Oh my God,” said Buffy, forgetting her promise to keep quiet, “But what about your accent?” It was one of the things she loved about him and hated the fact that it was fake.

Spike turned to face her. “Me and James had messed around trying to trick people that we were each other since we looked so much alike. I ended up copying everybody’s accent and it had sort of just stuck a bit, even before the crash. I suppose I thought it was cool to sound like James and Rich. I’d dislocated my jaw and could barely speak to start with anyway. Then Rich started to visit and I just fell into copying him with out thinking about it. It just feels normal now.”

Buffy was now fascinated by what he was saying and, encouraged by the look on her face, Spike sat back down opposite her.

“My memories came back the first day I was out of the hospital. Seeing my mom’s writing in the copy of Pride and Prejudice was the trigger. I didn’t just remember who I was, I…” He blinked a couple of times and swallowed hard. “I remembered who I’d lost too.” He glanced up at her, his blue eyes full of pain. “I was going to tell Rupert the next day. I just couldn’t face it that night. Then he told me that he’d taken the job at Sunnydale High and that we were coming back here. He told me of the memorial service being planned for when we arrived. All I could think of was how everybody, Angel especially, would react when I was revealed to be alive after all. I know yer can’t understand wot I was feeling but for the first time in years I’d not been bullied.” Spike looked at his feet, his face colouring slightly. “And I didn’t feel afraid of everything. I panicked. I guess I was a coward too.”

He got up and walked around the room, feeling ashamed of what he’d done. It sounded so stupid when he’d said it aloud.

“Did you think about me? What I’d be feeling?” asked Buffy.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said, avoiding her eyes, “I thought you didn’t like me. You’d never called.”

“I couldn’t. You saw how the number was smudged.” Buffy reminded him.

“I didn’t know that then, though, did I?” He glanced at her. “As far as I knew back then, wot Davey had told me was right. That you and Angel had just played me.”

He saw her open her mouth to protest but carried on before she could.

“Look at it from my point of view, Buffy. Why would a beautiful girl like you be interested in soddin’ William? In me? I’d loved you from the moment I first saw you. Until a week before I left for England you’d barely said two words to me. It was much easier to believe that you’d played a trick than to think that you actually liked me. By the time I realised how upset you’d been about William, it was too late for me to do anything.”

“Why do you keep doing that?” asked Buffy sharply.

“Doin’ wot?”

“Talking about William as if he isn’t you?”

“I suppose because I’m not ‘William’ any more and I don’t just mean because I’m not using the name. Rich sussed me out and wrote me a letter saying that he reckoned that William had died in the crash too. In a way he was right - I’m not the same person as I was before it.”

He sat down again and this time when he met her gaze he held it.

“I don’t blame you for being mad at me, Buffy, but I never meant to deceive you. I never thought we’d be together and once we were it was too late to tell you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was terrified of losing you.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “And now I have. But I never lied about my feelings for you, Buffy. I love you, I always have and I always will.”

He stood up again, unable to stay still.

“So now you know. Thanks for letting me come today.” He picked up his duster. “I’d better go then.” He held his breath, praying that Buffy would ask him to stay, but his heart fell to his boots at her words.

“Yeah, perhaps you'd better," she replied. "Why doesn't he want to stay? Why did I say that?"

“Don’t cry, Christ, don’t let her see you cry.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

He hurried to the door and let himself out. As he closed it he feared that he’d never step inside the house again.

To be continued….

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