Et Lux In Tenebris Lucet (And the Light Shineth in the Darkness) by Enigmaticblue

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Chapter 10: A Harsh Reality

Buffy woke before dawn the next morning, slipping out of bed to make sure the curtains were closed. Spike slept on, the look on his face peaceful. Contented. She lay down next to him again, facing his still figure. A soft smile stole across her features and she reached out to smooth a stray curl. She wasn't sure what had happened last night, but it had been nice to be with someone, to have another body in her bed, never mind the fact that he wasn't warm.

She rolled over so her back faced him and let him slip his arm around her waist and pull her in close as he still slept. There was safety here in his arms, safety in the arms of the man who had loved her more than unlife.

Another couple hours and Buffy rose, leaving Spike to sleep. She grabbed his shirt on the way out the door, deciding that she would throw it in the laundry while she was at it. She was on her way to the basement when she met Dawn in the kitchen. "Buffy, Spike's missing," she said breathlessly. "You don't think—"

"He's not missing, Dawnie," Buffy replied quietly.

"But—"

Buffy put a hand on her sister's arm to calm her. "He's upstairs. I managed to get him to get cleaned up last night and I thought it would be easier if he didn't have to go down two flights of stairs."

"Oh." Dawn seemed to ponder this revelation for a minute and then understanding hit. "Oh. He stayed with you? You let him?" And then an amazed look crossed her face. "You mean you were—? Last night? Really?"

Buffy made a helpless gesture with her hands. "We didn't, you know. Which you shouldn't know, because it's absolutely none of your business. But no. We both slept. That's it."

Dawn looked almost disappointed. "Are you guys going out now? Because I think it would be totally cool."

"Nice to know someone does," Buffy muttered. Sighed. "No, Dawn, it doesn't mean we're going out. But we're friends." She looked up to see Tara standing in the doorway. "I have to go to the Magic Box later if you want to go with. If you need anything."

"I do actually," Tara said, smiling. "Thanks. Was last night good?" Her voice was cautious, as was her question.

Buffy suddenly smiled. "It was. It was relaxing."

"Buffy?" Spike's voice floated into the kitchen, with him not far behind. "Do you know where my—" He trailed off as he realized she wasn't alone. "Uh..."

She held up his shirt. "I was going to throw it in the washer along with the rest of your stuff. Do you have anything else you want washed?"

Wordlessly, he shook his head, looking from Dawn to Tara, as though not quite sure what he was and was not allowed to say. Buffy rolled her eyes expressively. "They know where you slept last night," she said.

"Oh," was his stunning reply. "Can we talk?"

She nodded, motioning for him to follow her down to the basement. "Sure. I need to start a load anyway."

He followed her carefully, bare arms and chest rippling with the effort of moving down the stairs. Buffy turned as she reached the bottom and watched appreciatively. 'Bad boy, maybe, but, damn,' she thought, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "What was last night, Slayer?" he asked, coming up behind her as she shoved his sheets into the washing machine and started the water.

"Last night was nice," she replied carefully. She still wasn't sure what last night was.

"Nice?" he asked incredulously, his head cocked to one side. "Last night was about as close to heaven as I'm likely to get, and all you can say is that it was nice?"

She turned to face him. "I'm not trying to make like it wasn't a big deal, Spike."

"Could have fooled me," he replied, anger seeping into his voice. "Don't play around with me, Buffy, and if that was just pity, you can save it."

"It wasn't about pity," she replied. Then hesitated, and said more honestly, "Okay, so maybe there was some pity involved. But when I said I needed you, I wasn't lying. I just want to keep you here, and I don't know how to do it. I don't know what to say to get you to believe that I don't want you to leave."

"Buffy," he began patiently, "whatever I was able to do for you before, it's over. I can't give you anything."

She reached out and touched his hand. "You tell me the truth," she replied. "And you love me."

He stared at her, unbelieving. "What happened to the song and dance about evil demons can't love?"

"Why did you help me against Glory?" she asked.

"Because I love you," he said in such a way that told her she was a stupid git for asking.

"Exactly." She smiled at him. "I've had a while to get to know you, Spike. I'm not saying that I love you back or that I will someday even, but you're my friend, and I keep my friends alive."

He studied her for a moment, as though discerning whether or not she was telling the truth. "Really?"

"Yeah," she said. "And as a friend, do me a favor and keep an eye on the laundry? We're researching a frost-monster at the shop today and I should probably get over there."

"A who?" he asked, frowning.

"A frost-monster, or something," she replied. "Didn't you hear about the museum thingy?"

"Luv, I've been down in the basement for the last week, sleeping. When would I have heard anything?" The little smirk on his face told her that he seemed to be recovering his sense of humor.

She quickly explained about the security guard at the museum and watched as the look on his face got more and more amused. "Look, Slayer, I know you've told yourself that this was a diamond-stealing frost-monster, but first of all, there is no such thing. Secondly, unless that diamond had mystical properties of some sort, chances are it got stolen by some of the more mundane human element." When she looked as though she were about to protest, he went on. "Demons are all about mayhem and apocalypses, Buffy, not big rocks. Trust me."

"Then what would you suggest, Mr. Smarty-Pants?" she asked sarcastically.

He considered for a minute and then said, "I'd ask Harris who makes a freeze-ray."

"You think Xander had something to do with it?"

He rolled his eyes. "That's not what I said. Just ask him, see what he says. If he gives you a blank stare, then you can tell him I finally went off my nut."

"Fine." She turned to go, and then looked back at him. "I'll see you later."

"See you then, luv."

Buffy and Tara walked to the Magic Box together, fully expecting to find the rest of the Scoobies waiting for them. "So Willow's doing okay?" Tara asked cautiously, not sure how she felt about seeing the other witch again.

"I think so," the Slayer replied, though there was a note of hesitation in her voice. "I think you were right, though. Her attitude the other day about the magic was giving me the wiggins. And she de-ratted Amy."

"She changed Amy back?" Tara asked. "How?"

"That was a little vague," Buffy replied. They reached the shop and entered to find only Anya and Xander waiting. "Where's Willow?" she asked.

The two glanced at each other and Xander shook his head. "Willow called. She and Amy were out really late last night. I don't know what they were doing, but Will said she was feeling pretty rough."

Tara and Buffy exchanged looks. "I think we might have to talk to Willow," Buffy said reluctantly. "I don't really want to, but I have a bad feeling about this."

Xander winced slightly, but Anya piped up with her usual blunt comments. "Well, it's about time someone does."

"Willow's really responsible, Anya," Buffy said, not wanting the ex-demon to criticize her friend.

"It's the responsible ones that are the worst," Anya replied. "They get a taste of that power and then there's no stopping them." No one had anything to say to that.

~~~~~

Tara entered the house quietly, all the ingredients for the spell she needed in hand. Xander and Anya had been pretty certain that Willow wouldn't be in, and so she had stayed to help research for a while, though Anya insisted that it was pointless, and even Buffy had admitted Spike hadn't thought they would get anywhere. The house was silent, and she went into the kitchen to find a note from Dawn. Willow had called and they were going to go see a movie together.

The witch smiled. She knew that Dawn had missed Willow coming around, and she felt partly responsible for that. But the empty house was a perfect opportunity to do the spell without interruption.

She headed down to the basement, walking quietly. "Spike?"

"Down here, pet," he replied. There were several piles of neatly folded laundry on top of the dryer and in the basket, but his bed was still bare, the sheets sitting in a pile on top. He smiled sheepishly, seeing the look on her face. "Didn't think I'd manage the bed," he explained. "Did get the rest of it folded though."

"I'm not surprised," Tara replied gently. "You could probably do about anything you really wanted to. Did you know Dawn left with Willow?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Must have been while I was catching a bit of sleep," he admitted. "Don't know that I would have let her go had I known."

"You can't keep Willow from seeing Dawn, Spike, whatever her problems might be."

He shrugged. "Maybe, but I might have told her to come over here where I could keep an eye on the both of them."

Tara shook her head, deciding it was useless to argue with him. "Are you ready for this?" she asked.

He was silent, regarding her solemnly. "Ready as I'll ever be," he finally said.

It was a simple spell, as spells go. Grind the ingredients up into a powder while saying the incantation. Sprinkle said powder over Spike, who was stretched out on his bed. Whisper the next portion of the incantation, while slipping into a trance. Open eyes to see what had been revealed.

The mist lay over him, showing a warm yellow over his torso, arms, and head, and a sickly green over his legs. That was expected: yellow for healthy, green for not-so-healthy. What was not so expected was the pulsing green light at the base of his spine where the break must have happened, and the pulsing point of green light right over his head. Where his chip was located.

She blinked, unsure of what she was seeing. But understanding dawned, and she whispered the words that would disperse the spell. "It's done," she said softly.

Spike opened his eyes, feeling as though he'd just been woken from a nap. "What's the verdict, Glinda?" he asked with false cheer. "Will I walk again?" The uncertain look on her face made his own grin falter. "What did you see, Tara?"

"Everything was pretty much as expected, Spike," she began slowly.

He growled in frustration. "Just spit it out."

"I think the chip might have something to do with you not healing." Silence reigned, and she began again. "You might still be okay. I mean, it might just take more time for your body to find a way around it, but right now I think the chip might be blocking the nerves from repairing themselves somehow. It's hard to say."

He sat staring at her, a stunned look on his face. "I'm not going to walk again."

"We don't know that," she said gently. Then, honestly, "Possibly not. As long as the chip is there."

He wanted to get up and pace around the room. He wanted to smash something, to kill something, to do some violence. None of that was going to happen. Not now, maybe not ever. "Right, like I could," he replied. "Like Buffy would let me."

"Do you want me to tell her what I found out?" Tara asked softly. "She knew I was going to do the spell."

He looked away. "Yeah, thanks. Don't think I could say it, you know?" Spike looked at her, and to her amazement she saw a new kind of flame in his eyes. "Don't worry about me trying to dust myself, luv," he said. "Haven't let this stupid chip stop me yet."

She gave him a genuine smile. "I never expected anything else."

~~~~~

Tara was in bed when Buffy came home late, disgusted with the lack of progress in the research department. On the other hand, Xander had actually looked thoughtful when she told him what Spike had said to ask. "Super villains make freeze rays," he had said almost immediately. "But why would Spike think—" He stopped and rethought it. "I know it's absurd, but some of this stuff, the disappearing demons, exploding lint, freeze rays, it is kind of like stuff that would come out of a comic book."

Buffy shook her head. "I don't know, Xander. On the other hand, it's probably a better idea than what we've come up with so far. But we're not getting anywhere, and I'm tired. Let's call it a night."

When she entered the house, it was dark except for a light in the kitchen. Spike was drinking from a mug and munching on chips. "Hey, look at you," Buffy said with a smile. "All up and around."

"Got bored listenin' to the dryer spin," he admitted. "And I was hungry."

"That'll teach you not to starve yourself," she teased.

He grinned. "Yeah, next time I get that depressed I'll just get you lot to wait on me till I feel better."

"Next time, I'll see if a good punch in the nose won't cure you," she threatened him, her tone playful. Then she froze, realizing that this was the first time in a long time she'd threatened him with bodily harm. "Spike, I'm—"

"Don't," he said softly. "Means you're not treatin' me like I could break any second."

Buffy saw the note Dawn left on the fridge. "She went out with Willow?"

He grimaced. "Sorry, luv. I probably would have suggested she do somethin' else, but she left while I was sleeping."

"No, it's not your fault," Buffy replied. "It's just—with the way Willow's been acting lately..."

"Preachin' to the choir here." Glancing over at the clock, he said, "It's late. Why don't you call? See if they're in. Maybe the Bit decided to spend the night."

Buffy shook her head. "Dawn would have called." But she went to the phone anyway. After she didn't get an answer, she began to get more than a little concerned. "It's not like Willow to keep Dawn out so late," Buffy said quietly, looking at the clock again. It was after 11, and Willow knew better than to keep her sister out without even calling. "Even if they did go to a movie, they probably should have been home by now."

"You going to go look for them?" Spike asked.

She nodded slowly. "Maybe it's stupid, but I'm getting one of those bad feelings people talk about right before everything hits the fan."

"I'll go with you," he replied, and then put a hand to her lips as she started to protest. "I can track the both of them, Buffy," Spike said quietly. "My nose isn't broken. Trail'll be fresh still."

She hesitated and then nodded. She hadn't planned on doing a lot of running, and Spike could move pretty fast once he got going on those crutches. "Fine," she said. "But if you get yourself dusted, I'm going to find a way to resurrect you just so I can beat the crap out of you."

She and Spike went to Willow's dorm first, thinking that they might be there. While they didn't see either of the two girls they were looking for, they did find someone else. "Amy?" Buffy said, surprised to find the former rat digging around Willow's drawers.

"Buffy. Hi. I gotta go," Amy tried to slide past her, but Spike blocked the way.

"What are you doing here?" Buffy asked. "And where's Willow?"

"Willow?" the girl asked with a nervous laugh. "I have no idea. Probably just out, I'm sure."

Buffy noticed she was hanging on to various items, and she began pulling them out of her grasp. "What is all this stuff? And what are you doing with it?"

"Willow knows," Amy protested, trying to snatch it back. "I need it."

"You need kitchen herbs, right," Buffy replied dryly, looking at her suspiciously.

"She's on something, Slayer," Spike said softly. "Either that, or she's comin' down." He glared menacingly at the girl. "Better tell her what you know."

Buffy followed his glare by slamming Amy up against the wall. "What did you and Willow get into?" she asked, her tone dangerous.

"Look, don't blame me. Willow was already way into it. I just introduced her to Rack—"

"Rack?" Spike asked angrily. "You stupid bint, messin' around with dangerous people like that. Lucky you didn't get your brain wiped." Buffy looked at him questioningly and his face hardened. "Lose the rat, luv. We've got bigger fish to fry."

Buffy herded Amy out the door and followed Spike as he swung himself away from campus and off towards the darker part of town. "You know this Rack?" Buffy asked.

"Know of him," he said grimly. "He's a warlock, and bad news. If Willow's mixed up with his lot, it's bad. Really bad."

"How do we find him?"

"Can't, unless you're a witch." He grinned at her. "Or a Big Bad. Place moves around a lot, and it's cloaked. Gotta know where to look and how to find it. My guess is if I manage to pick up the Bit's scent, it might lead us right to his doorstep."

Buffy frowned. "Willow wouldn't take my sister—"

"Rack's a drug dealer, Buffy," Spike said quietly, not meeting her eyes. "You saw Amy. If Willow wanted it bad enough, she'd do just about anything."

Spike was as good as his word. He easily managed to pick up their scents once they got to a less trafficked area. "My own bloodhound," Buffy murmured.

He ignored her, concentrating on the task at hand. "Should be close," he muttered. "Feel it. I don't—" A scream interrupted them, and they both looked in the direction it came from.

"That sounded like Dawn," Buffy said, horrified, and started running.

There was no way Spike could keep up with her, and he knew it. But he moved along as quickly as he could anyway, hoping that he'd actually be able to do something once he got there. Dawn was a crumpled form on the ground when he arrived, and Willow looked to be unconscious in a wrecked car. Buffy was fighting some sort of monster, and she was holding her own even if she wasn't winning. Spike couldn't do anything for the Slayer, but he managed to get down on the ground next to her sister.

"Let me see that arm, luv," he coaxed tenderly. "Come on."

Dawn whimpered, shaking her head. "No. No, it hurts."

"Know it does, Bit," he said, keeping an eye on Buffy and the demon, who had suddenly burst into flame.

Buffy was by Dawn's side in an instant. "Come on, Dawnie. I need to see your arm." Between the two of them, they managed to figure out that it was probably a fracture and the next stop should be the emergency room. Buffy helped her sister up, while Spike struggled to his feet, and all three of them left, leaving Willow weeping and calling after them.

When the witch tried to apologize to Dawn, and the girl slapped her across the face, Buffy exchanged a silent look with the vampire. "I'll take care of her," he said, and watched as the Slayer went back to help her friend. "Come on, Niblet. It's a bit of a walk, but you're tough."

Buffy and Xander met them at the hospital about an hour later, just as the doctor was putting the finishing touches on Dawn's cast. "How is she?" Buffy asked Spike softly when he swung himself out to meet them.

"Fractured wrist. She'll heal in time." But the look in his eyes suggested that the fracture was the least of her wounds. Worse was the betrayal of a friend.

She nodded. "Xander's going to drive us back to the house, and then I'm going to stay with Willow. She shouldn't be alone tonight." Buffy hesitated. "Would you stay with Dawn tonight, Spike?"

"You know you don't have to ask," he replied, his eyes intense.

"I know." She went into the small, curtained-off cubicle, leaving Xander and Spike to wait outside.

The two men shared a long look, and then Xander spoke softly. "Buffy told me what happened tonight. It was good work, finding them."

Spike shrugged uncomfortably. "It wasn't anything."

"It was good work," Xander repeated, and Spike ducked his head. If vampires were able to blush, he'd have been bright red.

"Thanks." And then Buffy came out with Dawn and a pharmacy prescription, and their moment was interrupted.

When they got back to the Summers' residence, Tara met them at the door, mothering Dawn with her soothing voice, the younger girl nearly stumbling up the stairs in her fatigue.

Tara stood and watched Spike follow her up, to make sure she made it alright, and then held Buffy back with a hand on her arm. "I need to talk to you."

"I'm staying with Willow tonight," she said. "Can it wait?"

The witch nodded. "Maybe I could meet you at the Magic Box tomorrow?" she suggested. "It's about the spell I did with Spike earlier. He wanted me to be the one to tell you the results, and it might be better if I explained away from the house."

Buffy didn't need to ask if it was bad news. "How bad is it?"

The other woman hesitated, and then said softly. "It's bad, but it's a little more complex than that. How about I meet you in the afternoon sometime? Maybe around 4?"

Buffy nodded. She wasn't sure how to feel about Tara's announcement. Bad news or not, Spike had certainly seemed a lot more like his old self this evening, a lot less depressed. He was eating without having to be prodded, and he was certainly more active. So she didn't think it could be too bad, but the witch's face told her otherwise, and she wondered how many more blows she could take in a 24 hour period. Not only was her best friend a magic addict, but her new best friend might have something seriously wrong with him of the non-fixable variety. It was too much.

At the shop, late in the afternoon the next day, Buffy's heart sank as she heard Tara's verdict. After spending all night with a witch going through withdrawal, this was the last thing she wanted to hear. "Are you sure it's the chip?" she asked.

"Pretty sure," Tara replied, an apologetic look on her face. "The evidence seemed clear."

Xander shook his head. "Poor guy. I feel kind of sorry for him. I mean, now he's stuck like that. It's not like we would let him, but it's not even possible. There's no way we could contact the Initiative to get the chip out."

"I don't know, Xander," Buffy said slowly. "I think I might be able to get in touch with Riley if I really needed to."

He looked alarmed. "But you wouldn't. The chip is the only thing holding him back, Buffy. I get that it sucks to be him, but we're not gonna let a murderer loose just because his legs won't work."

Tara broke in unexpectedly. "I'm not sure that's our choice to make. It's Spike's body."

Xander shook his head. This was unreal; they were actually talking about helping Spike get that chip out of his head. "And what's to stop him from killing all of us?" he demanded.

"What stopped him from letting us all get killed by Glory?" Buffy asked quietly, her mind made up. "Look, whatever Spike's reaction to getting that thing out might be, he wouldn't hurt any of us. Assuming we actually managed to do it, I think he would leave town if I asked him to, and I can't worry about what goes on outside Sunnydale." She stared Xander in the eye. "Besides, Tara's right. It's his body, his decision."

Xander shook his head, unwilling to admit that the two girls might be right. If there was anything he understood, it was that vampires were bad. In the end, it didn't really matter if said vampire had a soul, a chip, or some other sort of leash, because they were evil. And if you let them, they would kill you and everyone you loved.

But even he had to admit that Spike had changed, and he really did seem to feel something for Buffy and Dawn. Evil undead he might be, but Spike had done a lot for all of them, and they probably at least owed him the courtesy of letting him decide his own fate. Besides, Xander didn't think that Buffy'd be able to contact Riley or convince him to take the chip out of Spike's head. Riley hated the vampire more than Xander ever had, and that was saying something. "All right, Buf. Your call. But I still think even giving him the option is a bad idea."

Buffy looked over at Anya who shrugged non-commitally. "I know what Xander says about demons not changing, but I've met plenty of demons, and I've known a few who've changed. Maybe not vampires," she admitted. "But I've seen enough to know it might be possible."

Tara nodded. "I think it might be more than possible. Spike's been changing slowly for a long time now, but there's definitely been a shift in his aura." She looked over at Buffy. "He seemed pretty certain that you wouldn't let him get the chip out, though."

Buffy stared at the bookshelves, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "He has good reason to think that. But I've made deals with him in the past, and he's never let me down." She smiled suddenly. "He always comes back, but he keeps his end of the bargain."

Spike was sitting on the back porch, smoking, when he sensed Buffy's presence behind him. "Tara told you."

"How's Dawn?"

Spike sighed. It was like her to avoid a painful subject by switching to something a little more mundane. "She's fine. Her arm still hurts though, so I made her a bite to eat and had her take one of those little white pills. She's sleeping."

"Thanks for staying with her last night."

Spike had stayed with her until she'd fallen asleep, and then had spent the night in Buffy's room, close by in case she needed him for anything. Tara had told the Slayer he reminded her of a mother hen with a wounded chick, a comparison she had a feeling he wouldn't appreciate. But Buffy had never thought of him as a mother hen; maybe more of a guard dog: fiercely protective and loyal.

"You know you only have to ask, luv," he replied, blowing a smoke ring experimentally.

Buffy couldn't avoid the subject any longer, she knew. "Tara told us."

"Don't feel bad," he said before she could go on. "Still wouldn't have had it any other way."

"I know," she replied, somehow certain that it was the absolute truth. "What if we could get the chip out?"

He stared at her in shock. She sat next to him, only a few inches away, looking unflinchingly into the eyes of the vampire she'd just suggested she would set free. "Not possible," he stated flatly.

"It might be." She looked away from the intensity of his eyes. "If I could contact Riley... It's not a given, Spike, but I'd be willing to try."

"You're saying you're going to?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm saying it's up to you," she said.

He dropped his head, looked at the cigarette he held, now burned down to the filter. He flicked it away out into the yard and lit another to cover his confusion. "What's the deal then?"

"If you want me to try to contact the Initiative, I will. If the chip comes out, you leave Sunnydale, and I mean for good this time." Buffy's jaw clenched at the thought of never seeing him again. "I know you wouldn't hurt me or any of the rest of us, but I don't want to have to stake you. What you do outside this town is up to you."

"And if I say no? If I don't want the chip out?" he asked.

Buffy was surprised at the question. She'd thought it would be a no-brainer for him, no other options necessary. "If you say no," she said slowly, "then our deal still stands. You have a place here for as long as you need one."

Spike wasn't sure she was serious, or if she knew what she was saying. Someday, he was certain, she'd meet some nice bloke and want to get married and have kiddies of her own. On that day, he would no longer be welcome. On that day, should he still be crippled, he would meet the sun.

But the decision was a no-brainer, though it was not easy for the reason Buffy thought it would be. "You can take all the time you want to decide, Spike," she said, rising to leave. "Just let me know."

"I don't need any time, Buffy." Slowly, clumsily, he stood and straightened, dignity lying like a mantle over his shoulders. "Chip stays."

"Are you sure?" she asked, almost breathless with the shock of it.

"Yeah," he said, and before she could question why, he answered. "I don't leave, Buffy, not the people I love. For your information, I don't think I'd go back to killing. It's not who I am anymore, but I understand why you'd ask me to leave. And I'd go, because I don't hurt you. Never you."

He smiled, and the look in his eyes was infinitely tender. "I'd rather be a cripple and stay by your side, helping when I can, than be whole and too far away to make any difference at all."

The sacrifice of his choice took her breath away. There had been no one in the past who would choose to be helpless, choose to give up everything to be close. Even Angel, as much as they had loved one another, had not stayed, knowing the sacrifice they would both make. Perhaps he had been right, but his leaving had still brought pain. This only brought a certain quiet joy, knowing that there was one person in all the world who would remain with her.

She lifted one hand and ran it along the side of his face, cupping his cheek as he closed his eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" he asked, surprised that she would say it. Surprised that his choice, which took no burden from her, had made her grateful.

"For staying," she said, kissing him chastely on the lips before going inside.

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