Remember Me

"Do you think, ever, at all?" Angel roared as Buffy's fell limply
against Spike.
Spike picked her up, cradled her in his arms and gazed at her
lovingly. He pulled her close against his chest and started to walk
away, making it clear to Angel that he was ignoring him.
"What you just did made it worse for her! Not to mention that we now
have an unconscious Buffy on our hands. Do you know how quickly
Lindsey and Quentin will come after her now? Do you have any idea
what you've done to us?"
Spike spun, still clutching Buffy tightly against him. "I did what I
had to do! I'm not going to let those fucking bastards use and abuse
her any longer. She's my girl and I'm taking her home!" He shouted so
loud, Angel was sure they could hear them back in Newport.
"You just fucked with her mind even more is what you did! You could
have waited. You shouldn't have come out looking--"
"Wait? For what? For more plans? Something needed to be done
Angelus! We'd wait for bloody ever and never get her back with the
way you and Giles were handling things. The longer we wait, the
longer their claws sink into her and the more we lose her. I'm not
willing to WAIT any longer. I want my girl back and by God, I'm going
to have her back."
"And what happens when she wakes up and she still hates you? What
happens when she wakes up and her mind can't make sense of what's
happened to her? You don't know what Quentin did to her--"
"He TOOK her, that's what he did. He took what wasn't his and hurt
her. He took her from us, Angelus. We came here to get her back and
that's what I did. I got her back."
"You got her back all right Spike. But at what price?"
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you weren't happy I've got her
right here in my arms. Look at her, Angel. Look at our girl."
Angel stopped and looked at her as Spike adjusted her so that Angel
could get a better look at her. Angel's shoulder's slumped and his
expression softened as tears pooled in the corner of his eyes. Buffy.
His Buffy. His Salvation. Their Salvation. Shaking, he reached out
and moved some hair away from her beautiful, pale face. She looked so
skinny, so tired, so worn. He wanted nothing more than to have her
back. He wanted nothing more than to take her home, take care of her,
love her, nurse her back to health and ease her manipulated mind. He
knew, however, that it wasn't that easy. That it was going to be hard
on her, on them. Their battle was not over yet. It had just begun.
Again.
In silence both vampires made their way back to Giles's.

Giles knew of course. He was up waiting. He wasn't stupid. He'd
heard the thud of the window slamming when Angel had successfully
crawled out of it. He was actually surprised that Spike hadn't gone
after her sooner. He was a restless, desperate bundle of energy and
he had already guessed that Spike was going to be the one to
ultimately get her back.
He hadn't bothered going after them, knowing he would only be in
the way. He stayed behind instead and paced. He prayed too. Prayed to
the Gods for protection for the three of them. They needed it more
than anything right now. When he finally caught sight of them coming
up to the house, he merely opened the door, not surprised to see
Buffy in Spike's arms. Spike had a dazed look on his face while Angel
held one of sorrow.
Poor Angel. He always did carry the weight of the world on his
shoulders. He was always the one that worried about the consequence
of every action. It was no doubt he was in turmoil now. He also
guessed that Spike would soon be in turmoil when he realized that
kidnapping Buffy back--no matter how justified--would yeild further
destructive results.
No wonder the two argued so much. Spike acted on his impulses, Angel
restrained them. Together, they butt heads. Buffy, he already
guessed, was the one to ease that rift. She created sense for them
and made it possible for the two to co-exist together and referee
them. She was able to communicate to them, for them, to each other,
when they failed to express themselves in ways that didn't involve
shouting and fists.
He'd observed their barely restrained resentment and anger toward
each other, but, he'd also seen them come together and support each
other. If they could just learn to be more in sync with one another
instead of constantly being on the defense, Giles knew they would
make more of a formidable team. And right now, they needed that.
Buffy might be their glue, but they needed to find other means of
sticking together. From what Angel had told him thier past had
separated them and Buffy had united them. From what Giles could
see. . . their past united them as well. Without the aid of Buffy,
but with the aid of one part trust and one part acceptance, the two
could put aside any underlying issues that had been lying doormant
since they'd made the joint decision to share Buffy and be the
brothers he knew they could be. Perhaps they didn't know it, not with
the commotion, the anger, the sadness and the confusion, but they
wanted it too. They needed it.
Angel met Giles's concerned eyes as they entered the house and Giles
immediately set to work on gathering chains and locks to restrain
Buffy. Spike placed her on his bed, laying her down gently as if he
were afraid that she would break. He took her hand in his and
carressed it. He gave Giles a warning glare when Giles shackled Buffy
to the bed, making sure to get her ankles as well as her wrists.
"Hasn't she been restrained enough," Spike whispered rhetorically.
Giles didn't reply, but rather gazed down at the lifeless body on
the bed and ached for the poor girl. What more was going to happen to
the poor girl? He got his answer when he noticed the blood trickling
from her neck. He recieved his answer.
"Do you know what you've done?" Giles whispered on barely contained
rage.
"I did what I had to do."
"You've just hurt her more," Giles told him simply.
"She can feel me now. She can feel US."
"The memories Quentin created are not wiped clean now, Spike. They
are still there. She'll be confused, hurt, angry and she'll blame you
for more than she already does."
"She'll come back to me."
"If she doesn't kill you first."
"Who's side are you on?" Spike burst out.
Giles looked down at the small girl on his guest bed. "Hers."
Spike faced him, expressionless, "funny that. So am I."
"I suppose remembering something is better than remembering nothing
at all," Angel spoke up. Giles looked at his old friend. Knee jerk
reaction from him, he guessed. Just like siblings: They could fight
all they wanted, but once someone else attacked, it was a different
story altogether.
Spike's face told Giles he was not expecting Angel to back him
up. "Bout time I got some respect."
Angel shot daggers at him. Operation Defend Spike gone in a flash.
Good job Spike, opening your mouth. "You're an arrogant fool. You
brought hell to our doorstep."
Spike shook his head, "hell was brought the day she was taken."
Angel remained silent and turned back to Buffy. Giles knew he agreed.
Angel sat down on her side and just stared at her. Spike followed
suit on the other side. Giles watched the three of them and wondered
what the hell they were going to do now.

"Buffy? You still asleep?" Lindsey asked quietly as he entered her
bedroom. He was set and ready to take her out for a hearty breakfast,
followed by some "retail therapy" and then, well, he'd let Buffy
choose. She needed a day off, needed a day to just be a girl. Not a
Slayer, not a motherless daughter, not anything but a girl. Lindsey
hoped that was possible. He had high hopes after last night that it
was.
He stopped when he saw her on the bed, completely covered. He
grinned as an image of him next to her in that bed one day flitted
through his mind. In time, he thought and moved forward. He sat down
on the bed next to her and placed his hand on her arm. His grin
started to fade. Buffy was not squishy like that. She didn't dent
when touched. A cool draft from his left caused him to snap his gaze
toward the wide gaping open window. He flung back the covers and
found pillows. Letting out a restrained, frustrated cry, he bounded
to the window and found a heap of sheets tied together on the ground.
He managed to run through the gamut of emotions in a second: Rage,
betrayal, worry and fear. He settled on a healthy mix of rage and
fear. She went out looking for them last night. Not only that, but
she LIED to him. She PLAYED him. Stalking towards the door, Lindsey
settled on a course of action. First, he'd clean up the mess she'd
left behind, then, he was going to find her. He ignored the nagging
voice in the back of his mind that told him his time had officially
run out, and focused instead on the desire to show her, once he did
find her, who the boss was once and for all.

Spike rubbed his eyes, gathering his bearings slowly. The events of
the previous night rushed back and he popped open his eyes. He had
obviously fallen asleep next to Buffy. He looked over to see Angel
had done the same. Wondering how Buffy was doing in the light of day,
he craned his neck to see his answer. She was staring at him, her
expression devoid of emotion. He saw emptiness, no spark, no life,
nothing. His dead heart clenched at the sight.
"What did you do to me?" She whispered.