The Shadow and Light keeper - Buffy fanfic

Chapter 26

"Spike..." I begin, my voice barely a whisper.

"You were not supposed to find out like this," he replies, his gaze intense, holding a weight that feels almost tangible.

"So, I'm right. You got your soul back," I say, trying to process the enormity of it.

He turns to me, the candlelight casting shadows across his face, one half cloaked in darkness, a mystery I long to unravel. I step closer, but he retreats, confusion flickering between us. He hesitates, caught in a struggle between leaving and staying. Yet when our eyes lock, he remains. Slowly, he sinks onto the edge of the bed, and I sit cross-legged in front of him.

"How... how is that possible?" I ask, my curiosity mingling with a hint of trepidation.

"An ancient Mexican tribe taught me how to do it. Bit of a rough ride, that. Not really keen on chatting about it, love."

Silence blankets the room as understanding washes over me. I've glimpsed those moments in my visions, enough to know they're painful. If he's not ready to share, I'm not sure I want to hear more. I shake my head slightly, then frown.

"Is that... is that why you left?"

"Not originally, no," he says, glancing out the window, his gaze distant. "I didn't know how to deal with what you do to me. All that anger, anxiety, and... bloody fear..."

He shakes his head, and I don't push further. Instead, I observe him, noticing his discomfort as he scans the room like a caged animal. I think I understand why.

I stand and open the door. "Come on," I urge, nodding for him to follow. Together, we step outside and settle on the porch steps. He pulls out a cigarette, and I do the same. He turns to light mine.

"Cigarettes will end up killing you," he murmurs.

"The only thing they'll do is yellow my teeth," I reply with a bitter smile. "Haven't you heard the news? I'm immortal. Trapped in the body of a twenty-two-year-old forever."

"What? How...?" he asks, bewildered.

"Luke explained it to me. The day an angel's powers manifest is the same day their body stops aging. Forever."

He looks at me, tenderness shining in his eyes, and a pang of regret hits me for not realizing what happens to him sooner. I shake my head again, dismissing those thoughts, and shift the topic.

"I saw you trying to escape that room earlier. I understand. We don't have the best memories there."

"I had the most difficult night of my life in that room," he admits, looking down, shame creeping into his tone.

I turn to him, knowing I can't look away. He struggles to maintain eye contact, fiddling with his lighter, spinning it until it becomes a blur.

"When I saw you open that door that night, I felt things I hadn't felt in a bloody century. I was scared-not for myself, mind you, but for you. And that fear came with this raging anger, something I didn't know how to handle. I felt completely lost, like I didn't know who I was anymore. After that, I just stuck around, helping you... watching you sleep. I sat there for hours, my hand hovering near your face, thinking you might... bloody hell, I watched you sleep for hours. I didn't know how to cope with those emotions. I wasn't meant to feel any of this."

"Spike..." I whisper, my heart aching.

"And then Willow whisks you off to the hospital. Just like that, there was no one left for me to protect. You were gone, and I didn't know how to fill the emptiness it caused. I was lost. So, I dealt with it the only way I know how. I suffered for it, but it was just physical really."

"I know you did it because you thought you were protecting me," I say softly.

"No, I didn't do it for you," he retorts, his voice sharp and icy. "I did it for me. To stop feeling all that rubbish. Every time that bruised face of yours popped into my head, I felt like a bloody weakling. I hated it. So I pounded him again and again, even though it hurt me, because I had to be the monster I've been for over a century. I couldn't stand the weakness. But then, in that crypt, it hit me just how badly I screwed up. I robbed you of your vengeance. You lost that because of me, and it tore me apart. So, I bolted. Didn't know if I'd ever come back. Just wanted to be anywhere but near you."

It's awful, selfish, and horrible. But I understand. I reach out and place a hand on his cheek, but he pulls away.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness. I don't deserve a bloody thing from you. And I didn't come back to take anything. I came because I want to make amends for the wrongs I've done. After wandering for days, drowning my sorrows, reminiscing about the good old days when I could indulge in all the wickedness I crave, I stumble upon a tribe. They see a spark in me-a tiny flicker, barely glowing, deep in my mind."

"A... spark?" I ask, confusion lacing my voice.

"A piece of a soul," he breathes. "The tribe leader said it came from you. From that night."

"I... I don't understand," I stammer, overwhelmed.

He locks eyes with me, and I feel the weight of his words settle in.

"A small spark is born in me because of you. At first, I hated you for it. But then I thought about our conversation. About how being a monster stopped me from being the man you need. So I asked the tribe to help me restore my soul completely. They took me to a demon's lair, and he gave me my soul back in exchange for a night of labor. That's what you saw in your vision."

"I..."

"Mia," he interrupts softly.

For the first time, he takes my hand in his. His touch is both chilling and electrifying.

"I didn't get my soul back to snatch your happiness, or to ask for anything from you. My mind torments me with all the terrible things I've done, and I don't think I'll ever be at peace with myself. But I want to make amends. I know that as your ally-and hopefully, as your friend-I can start to do that."

Spike gently strokes my hand, tracing soft circles on the back with a tenderness I never knew he had. How much has getting his soul back changed him?

Then he stands, his long coat brushing the ground as he straightens. He turns to me, and time seems to freeze. He offers a smile unlike any I've ever seen.

"All I want, Mia, is your forgiveness. Just hopin' that one day, I'll be worthy of it."