Comics!Fic: Denouement

[gryfndor_godess]

Title: Denouement
Rating: PG
Summary: Willow’s not the best person to comfort Buffy, but she knows who is.  Takes place immediately after issue #4 and actually isn’t precluded by #5.  The first line of the fic is from the #4, which was written by Andrew Chambliss.
Word Count: 7,100
Author’s Note: I started this pretentiously titled fic (not pretentiously titled on purpose; I just couldn't think of anything; "Aftermath" and "Solace" seemed too bland) not long after the issue actually came out but struggled with it for a while and was only able to finish it today.  The impetus for it was that I was disgruntled with the writers for not having Buffy think of Spike before leaving the warehouse with Willow, and I wanted to flesh out Spike’s reasons for leaving without talking to her because I wasn’t entirely satisfied with his characterization.  This is my take on what could have transpired after the issue.
            This was also supposed to the first chapter in a much, much, much longer fic; namely, a Spike/Buffy/Dowling love triangle fic.  For now, this stands as a one-shot.  I have a skeletal plot of the rest of it and still like it, so I may write it some point, but now that #5 is out and it would be thoroughly AU, I make no promises.

ETA: Apparently 7,000 words is too long for LJ to handle.  *sigh*  Most annoyingly this is in two parts, but it's just one fic.  This first part is about 2,300 words.

“Your magic, Will...we'll figure it out.  I promise.”

After all of Buffy's poor decision-making in the war against Twilight, the words should have been hollow comfort at best and arrogantly offensive at worst, but to Willow's surprise, a feeling of genuine relief spread through her.  Not to the tips of her fingers and toes, maybe, but enough to momentarily dull the twin sensations of emptiness and want that she had been forced to accept as a normal part of life after the Seed's destruction, like a chronic illness that couldn't be cured.  There was just something about Buffy and promises; no matter how disillusioned you were about her leadership in other respects, you knew her promises were sincere; she wanted to help you, and she truly believed she could find a solution, even when you were ready to give up.  For the first time in months, Willow felt a flicker of hope.

“Thanks, Buffy.”

The pleased smile she received in return was just shy enough to make Willow feel bad for how avoid-y she'd been lately.  Maybe tonight could be a fresh start all around.

“Ready to go home?”  Willow opened her door as she spoke.

“Yeah- wait!  Where's-”  Buffy looked back toward the flashing blue and red lights, which were as numerous and obnoxious as they'd been when Willow arrived.  Except for the ambulance, none of the emergency vehicles looked ready to depart anytime soon.

"What's wrong?"

"I have to talk to Spike before we leave."  Willow guessed that the fleeting look Buffy sent her was meant to be apologetic, but the blonde was darting back toward the warehouse too quickly for it to be very effective.  Guilt surged through Willow again as she followed; she hadn't thought about Spike's welfare after the fight.  She was so used to him being there on the periphery, lurking whether he was wanted or not, that the question of his safety just hadn’t occurred to her.  It felt strange to care- and yet, there was an undeniable flutter of anxiety in her stomach as she scanned the lot and didn't see him.

Buffy looked a lot more than merely a-flutter as she bit her lower lip and stared wildly in every direction.  Her knuckles were clenched white around the blanket the police had given her.

"Slayer."

Buffy and Willow both jumped as a demon emerged from the shadows of a police car.  Instinctively, Willow reached inside for the power to defend herself in case the demon were an enemy- and as usual, her legs grew shaky and her insides swirled nauseatingly when she remembered that power wasn't there.

"You came with Spike," said Buffy.  Upon hearing that the demon was an ally, Willow gave a slight, automatic shudder of relief; she hated it.

The demon inclined its head in acknowledgment.  With its ridged forehead, knotted black hair, and reddish-brown skin, he reminded Willow of a Klingon from Star Trek.

"I am Eldre Koh," said the demon.  "I am in your debt, Slayer, and am here to aid you in any way I am able."

"In my debt?"  Buffy blinked.  "I don't suppose we could switch that debt to my school loan collector and you could pay him off instead?"

It was the demon's turn to blink.

Buffy sighed.  "Sorry.  Traumatic experience.  Makes me inappropriately jokey.  Only way to cope.  Um.  Why are you in my debt?"

“Because you destroyed the Seed.”

Willow tensed.

"I was imprisoned in this realm by my enemies' magic.  The destruction of the Seed allowed me to escape.  As you are responsible, I am in your debt."

“Oh,” said Buffy, in a small voice, and Willow wondered if she was thinking the same thing: more unexpected fallout.  Was it really a good thing this demon had escaped?  His retelling would obviously be a little biased.

“Um.  Okay.  Thanks for coming tonight,” said Buffy.  "How did you end up with Spike?"’

“He found me in my abode,” said the demon.  “He believed I was your enemy.  I told him about the Siphon, and we came to warn you.”  His gaze left them to sweep the surrounding hubbub, and he said, without a trace of irony.  “We were not in time.”

"Mmm hmm," said Buffy, in the noncommittal sort of way that Willow recognized as meaning she was confused and trying to figure out what to do next.

“Well, I, uh, appreciate you trying.  Do you know where Spike is?"

“He has departed," said Eldre.

Buffy gasped.

“Has," said Willow quickly.  “Not 'is'!  Right?  Has?  You mean he left?”

“Yes.  He ran that way.”  He pointed behind himself.  Buffy stepped around him and squinted, as though if she looked hard enough she could make Spike's platinum head materialize out of the shadows.

“Is he all right?” asked Willow.  “Why did he leave?”

"I did not understand his reasons," said Eldre.  "They were illogical and irrational."

Buffy frowned, and Willow they were thinking the same thing: a demon from a very different culture might not understand something that would make perfect sense to a human.

"Well, what were they?" asked Buffy reasonably.  "Maybe they'll make sense to us."

The demon hesitated.  Its eyes narrowed on Buffy in a way that wasn't threatening but still made Willow feel uncomfortable- like they were being judged.

"He wished to leave you to your normal existence,” said Eldre slowly.

Buffy glanced at Willow with one eyebrow raised.  “Has Spike met me?”

“He probably meant the police,” said Willow.  “He knew you'd have to deal with the cops who have been after you.  Maybe he didn't want to get in your way or for them to ask him any awkward questions.”

Buffy shrugged.  “Makes sense, I guess.”  From the yearning, wistful expression in her eyes, Willow knew that she would have preferred Spike to stick around, though.  Buffy pulled out her phone.  She tapped a few buttons before pausing to look at Eldre.

“Uh...do you need anything from me right now?  Cause I appreciate your offer, but I don't have anything I need help with right now.  Not that that might not change in a few days,” she added hastily.  “Or in two seconds.  If you're going to stick around...”

Eldre inclined his head again, and this time it looked like a formal bow.  “I will remain in the vicinity for as long as your require my services.  The Siphon is not yet disposed of.”  He bared his teeth in a way that made Willow very glad he was their ally.

“What do you know about him?” she asked.

“He is the enemy of all with mystical energy.  He rips it from them and absorbs it as his own.  The oldest demons fear him.”

Willow couldn’t suppress a shiver.  “And…?”

“Do you know where he comes from or how to de-power him?” asked Buffy.

“My knowledge is limited,” said Eldre.  “I have been in containment for many eons.  I do not know of his weaknesses, if he has any.”

Buffy sighed.  “Great.”  She looked at the ambulance, which had been closed.  Her fists clenched at her side.

“How much do we trust the police to keep that guy behind bars?” asked Willow.

Buffy's shoulders slumped.  “We don't.  But I don't know what we can do about it now.”

“I will follow the Siphon,” offered Eldre.  “And do my best to prevent him from escaping the custody of these...police?”

He enunciated the last word carefully, and Willow nodded encouragingly.  Buffy was looking at her phone again.

“Thank you,” she said, glancing up.  “I really appreciate that.  Um, if you need to contact me...”

“I know where you live,” said Eldre.

Willow and Buffy automatically exchanged another look.

"Well, that's not at all creepy," said Buffy faintly.

"I will find you," said Eldre.  "Or your vampire."

Pink patches bloomed in Buffy's cheeks.  "He's not my vampire," she said.

But if you asked Willow, that was something Buffy couldn't sound sincere about.

Buffy's fingers clicked across her keypad the whole walk back to Willow's car.

“Texting Spike?” asked Willow.

“Mmm hmm.

“Is he all right?”

Buffy chewed on her lip and stared intently down at her screen.  "He says he is.  He's kind of being monosyllabic, though."

“Spike's not being talkative?” said Willow as she turned the key in the ignition.  “Something is wrong with him!”

Buffy didn't laugh.

Willow swiveled in her seat to reverse.  “Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

Buffy finally looked up from her phone.  “Really?  You mean it?”

Willow felt another wave of guilt, this time mingled with pity.  Buffy sounded like such a lost, hopeful little girl.  “Of course I do.  I mean, I wouldn't say it if I didn't.  I don't have a second bedroom, but the couch is comfy.  In case you don't want to be alone right now or don't feel like dealing with the roommates tonight.”

Buffy sighed again.  “Yeah, they're probably not too happy with having a fugitive for a roomie, and that's one explanation I might need Dowling to back me up on.”  She smiled at Willow.  “Yes, please.  I'd really like to stay with you.”

A smile of her own tugged at Willow's lips.  “Sounds good.”

Buffy returned to her phone and remained absorbed with it during the whole ride home, even though she didn’t actually seem to be texting much and it only chimed a few times to indicate she had received a message.  One call came through, and she flipped the phone open so fast the ringer hadn’t even had a chance to finish once.  Her hopeful smile dimmed as she said, “Oh, Dawnie, hi…”

Ordinarily Willow would have been annoyed by Buffy’s preoccupation, but tonight it was understandable- more than understandable.  Willow didn’t even want to think about how horrible it must have been to watch the life drain from her- whatever Spike was to her- and not be able to do anything about it.

When Willow unlocked the door and they entered the apartment, Buffy was temporarily distracted and gazed around with interest at the new decorations and personal touches- such as geometric prints Willow had bought on impulse and a clashing floral shag rug, also an impulse buy, that wasn’t her taste but reminded her of Tara- that were steadily making the one-bedroom unit feel more like a home.  Willow felt another pang when she considered how infrequent Buffy’s visits had been in the past several months.

Buffy’s faint smile fell suddenly as she paused in front of the end table next to the couch.  Willow stepped to the side to see past her.  On the table was a framed photo of Xander, Willow, and Dawn.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Willow blurted.  “Or eat?”  Maybe Buffy needed to replenish her blood sugar or something like that after having her powers drained.

Buffy inhaled.  “Um.  Water?  Please?”

She hugged herself with one arm, maintaining a death grip on her phone, while Willow filled a glass from the filtered pitcher.

“Did Spike say why he left so quickly?” asked Willow as Buffy drained her glass.  She felt inordinately grateful to have such a convenient topic for filling silence.  Feeling eager to talk about Spike- weird.

Buffy made a face.  “He said he needed blood.”  She glanced at her water.  “Which I guess makes sense.”  She sighed.  “I wish he had said good-bye, though.  I didn’t get to thank him for coming.”  She frowned abruptly.  “Or call him ten kinds of idiot for rushing in when he apparently knew what Severin was capable of.”

Willow’s eyebrow shot up.  “You would have rushed in to save him if your positions were reversed.”

Buffy’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.  She fish-mouthed for a moment before giving a small, self-conscious snort and looking away.

Still, Willow was half-tempted to text Spike herself and call him ten kinds of idiot- though for an entirely different reason.

“You can see him tomorrow sometime, right?”

“I guess,” said Buffy in a rather morose sort of way.

After a few seconds of silence, Willow said briskly, “All right, well let’s get you set up in here.”  She went into her bedroom and took off the comforter and her second pillow for Buffy to use.  She hadn’t had a reason or the extra money to buy spare linens, but the couch was comfy, and she herself could manage with her sheet and a sweatshirt and pants for the night.

“You’re sure this is okay?” asked Buffy, eying the comforter and pillow as Willow put them on the couch.

“Positive.”

“Thank you.”  Buffy sank down onto the middle cushion, looking as weary as Willow could remember seeing her at any point during the past few years of war.  She really looked like she should be tucked into bed.

“I don’t have an extra toothbrush,” said Willow apologetically.

Buffy actually smiled.  “I think my teeth will survive the night.”

“Yeah.”  Willow shifted weight.  “Is there anything else I can get for you?  Do you want to talk about anything?”

“No,” said Buffy, but as the blonde glanced yet again at her phone, Willow knew that wasn’t precisely the correct answer.

“Okay.  Wake me if you do,” said Willow.  “Good night.”

After finishing her necessities in the bathroom and seeing that Buffy was staring glumly at the ceiling instead of sleeping, Willow pulled out her own phone in her bedroom.

She found Spike in her contact list and texted:

You should come over.  She’s worried and really wants to talk to you.

Willow hesitated and then typed:

I don’t know how to make her feel better.

She added her address and then four more words:

I invite you in.

She sent the message.  There.  At this point that was the best way she could help Buffy.  If Buffy wouldn’t be content or consoled until she talked to Spike in person and reassured herself that he was safe, then Spike would just have to get his butt over here and give her that opportunity.

He could tuck her in while he was at it.

As Willow climbed into bed, she wondered when she had become comfortable with that thought.

* * *

Part 2          

Comments

[eilowyn.livejournal.com]

Yay! Comics fic! I swear the fanfic that'll come out of this storyline is the main reason why I'm not flipping out over Buffy's pregnancy (though I did have a good flip out at about 3AM).

I'm liking how Koh is gaining a personality of his own - we don't have much to go on, but what you do with it makes sense. I love your choice of having Willow's brain narrate the story - have it from Willow's perspective - because it answers so many questions people have that the comics just aren't long enough to answer.

[gryfndor-godess.livejournal.com]

:D Thank you! I'm really glad you like Willow's POV! It was a fun challenge to write someone who's not Buffy or Spike for once, and it was really comforting to write Buffy/Willow friendship, as that's something I've missed since, oh, probably S4.