Summary: Spoilers for "The Gift" and S6. Spike manages to save Dawn, but pays a terribly high price. Will he be able to find meaning in his suffering?
Author's Notes: The title and some of the philosophy behind this story comes from Viktor Frankl's book Man's Search for Meaning, a must-read if you haven't already. In any case, it's basically about the importance of finding meaning in our suffering, since that's the only way we can avoid giving into despair. On a side-note, not everything in this story may be physically possible. But I didn't have Spike to experiment on, so you'll just have to take it as a plot device and leave it at that. As always, thanks and love to my beta, Heather.
Rating: PG-13
1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 :: 11 :: 12 :: 13 :: 14 :: 15 :: 16 :: 17 :: 18 :: 19 :: 20 :: 21 :: 22 ::
Author's Notes: So here it is: the epilogue and the end of the story I'm sure you've all been waiting for. As you'll notice, there are two possible endings. As I was writing this story, I found myself completely certain of Spike, but not so much of Buffy. Would she let him stay, or would she ask him to go? And as I considered, I came up with two distinctly different possibilities. Anyway, take your pick as to which one you like better. I'm still not sure.
He had stayed in the basement for two weeks, and Buffy had let him. They were doing their best to avoid one another, mostly because the future was too much to deal with at this point. She had never thought that even the idea of Spike leaving permanently would hurt this much, and yet she had steeled herself to do her duty. She'd sent one boyfriend to hell, after all. Letting another one leave town should be a piece of cake.
But it wasn't, and so she'd avoided him, if only to put that much more distance between them before he was well enough to leave, so that when the time came she could actually let him go.
Everyone knew about the chip being out, but Giles had been too busy with Willow to say anything about it, and Xander had kept his mouth shut as well, understanding that Spike didn't deserve a stake after all he had done for them, and accepting that he wouldn't hurt Buffy and the rest of the gang at least. He was still feeling a little iffy about the rest of the population, however. Willow, of course, wasn't thinking about Spike at all, even if she had realized that removing the chip was tantamount to another murder, give or take a thousand-assuming Spike went back to feeding. So they knew he was going to leave, or that Buffy was going to run him out of town. And Buffy knew they expected it, which was just one more reason to stick to her guns.
The time came too soon, and Buffy came in after patrol three weeks after the averted apocalypse to find Spike waiting for her in the living room. She knew immediately what was going on, since the crutches were nowhere in sight. And she watched as he stood and walked towards her. He still wasn't completely healed, she could tell. His left leg dragged just a little, and after months with no practice, his steps were somewhat uncertain, the swagger gone.
They were silent, his eyes never leaving hers. At least until that pesky left foot caught on the carpet, causing him to stumble and nearly fall. But Buffy's reflexes were honed after months of living with him, and she caught him before he could hit the ground.
Buffy froze as she realized that Spike's mouth was about a centimeter away from her neck, and he would be able to take a bite out of her before she could do anything about it. She should have shoved him away as soon as she realized, but instead she tilted her head in an open temptation, her senses screaming. And she felt his cool lips kiss her neck, right over the scars left by Angel and the Master.
Slowly, he righted himself and smiled at her. "I've already said my goodbyes to the Niblet," he said softly. "Told her you weren't to blame, but she's swearin' it'll be a blue moon before she talks to you again. You'll want to give her some time."
"Spike-"
"You'll say goodbye to the rest of the bunch for me," he went on, as though he hadn't heard her. "Make sure you take Harris down a peg or two for me before he gets too cocky with all the world-savin'."
Spike knew what he was doing. He was leaving before she had to ask him to go, because he didn't hurt Buffy, and this had been part of the deal. Spike kept his promises, always.
Buffy watched him in a fog, part of her paralyzed, and the other part screaming at her to tell him to stay, to forbid him to walk out that door. She'd grown used to him, and he was leaving. And then his hand was on the knob, and he was turning the handle, and the door was open, and his duffel was slung over his shoulder (where had that come from), and-
"You can't eat anybody," she blurted out. Spike froze, not turning around. "If you decide to stay, you can't eat anybody, and I mean it, Spike."
He turned to look at her incredulously. "And no going back to your crypt, because I really don't want to have to visit you there."
"Buffy?"
"And no wet towels on the floor either," she said, tears threatening. "Because you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself now, so there's no excuse."
"Luv?"
"And you can't leave," she said. "If you stay, there will be no leaving. And if you do, I swear I will hunt you down, and there won't be enough left of you to fit in an ashtray. So this is your last chance, because if you stay then you're not leaving ever."
Spike swallowed and shut the door, putting down the duffel. "Any more rules I should know about, pet?" he asked with an uncertain smile.
"Kiss me."
And he did. And this time the kiss was long and hard and demanding. Desperate and hungry. There was nothing left unsaid in this kiss, and it held the promise of more, infinitely more to come. "Why?" he breathed, when Buffy had to come up for air.
"Because I think you can do it," she replied. "And because I love you."
He grinned, and proceeded to show her just how good he was at following her rules.
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