Scars: Share Time
by littlewiccan
“Buffy?” Spike said. He was shocked to see hear standing in front of him.
“Hey,” she said with a small smile, “Well, just wanted to see if you were up and you are so I guess I’ll be leaving now.” She began to turn away but he spoke and stopped her.
“You couldn’t sleep either, love?” he asked as leaned on the frame of his door.
“No….I had a nightmare. What about you?”
“Same, more or less. It was about Dru.”
“You never told me….” She said her voice trailing off.
“I know there’s a lot I haven’t told you. But I guess there’s a lot you haven’t told me.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
“No and yes; I’m not sure,” he answered, truthfully, “So how do you like the new look?” He twirled around to give her a better look, stopping in front of her.
“I like it.”
“Good.”
“So now what?”
“Don’t know. You’re welcome to stay and talk if you like,” he said indicating his room.
“I’d like that.”
**************
“So do you really expect me to call you Spike?” Buffy asked as they sat on his bed and got comfortable. They were sitting with their legs crossed, facing each other.
“Yeah, Why? What’s wrong with it?”
Buffy just shrugged, “Sounds like a dog’s name.”
“Oh and Buffy is very classy.” In response Buffy chucked a pillow at him and they both began to laugh.
When it got quite again Buffy asked the question that had been bothering her for awhile now, “Who’s Dru?”
“Drusilla, my older sister.”
“I didn’t know you….”
“She died; suicide, took a whole bottle of pills about a month after my mum died. I found her but I was too late.”
“I’m sorry. I had a sister, well almost but my mom had a miscarriage.”
“I’m guessing there’s more to it then that.”
“It was my dad he hit her really hard one day, when she was pregnant she fell down the stairs and Dawn was gone.”
“Dawn?”
“That’s what they were going to name her. What happened to your dad?”
“He left when I was 9 and I haven’t seen him since. Why are you so mad at Giles?”
“Because he never stopped it.”
“How could he. He didn’t know.”
“If he hadn’t left; maybe he would have noticed.”
“He left to help us. My mom she was really sick and he came to help take care of us and her.”
“I didn’t know………….How’d you get the scar on you eyebrow?”
“I got mugged,” he laughed.
“You’re kidding. You were okay though right?”
“No, I’m not. It wasn’t one my finer moments. I was fine though. The robber was probably disappointed though all I had on me was a bus token and 5 dollars.” Buffy laughed.
“Did he hurt you a lot?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that how you got the scar?” Spike asked indicating the scar on Buffy’s neck.
“It was the last time he hurt me,” she said, sadly yet with a small smile because it was a symbol that it was all over. He was never going to hurt her again.
“What happened?”
********************
As Buffy began to recount what had happened the night she had gotten her scar, all the events came back to her:
Hank had come home in an inexplicable rage that day.
*“It was like he had just snapped,” Buffy said as the imaged played in her mind, “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.”*
“Get in here now!” he yelled as he walked in to the living room. Joyce entered first because she was closest she had been in the kitchen, making dinner.
*“She was making my favorite,” Buffy intoned as she relayed the story.*
“What’s wrong?” Joyce asked.
“What’s wrong?! Where is she?!” he yelled, “Buffy! Buffy!”
Buffy ran down stairs, “What?”
“Don’t you listen? I was calling you.”
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“You’re sorry. I’ll make you sorry,” he said as he brought his hand back sending Buffy careening into a small table and causing her to hit the vase that was there. It hit her next and broke, cutting her neck.
“Don’t you think I know what you did?” Hank yelled as he went to go hit her again but Joyce intervened, “Don’t you dare,” she said in a stern but calm voice as she stepped in front Buffy to shield her.
In response Hank hit Joyce so hard it caused her to fall against the door frame on which she hit the back of her head.
“Mom!’ Buffy cried as Joyce slowly slumped down to the floor, leaving a trail of blood on the wall behind her from the wound on the back of her head. Buffy rushed over to her but she was unconscious.
“How could you?” Buffy yelled as she turned on her father and threw a book at him, stopping him for a moment as she ran to call 911.
“Come back here,” he yelled as he ran after her into the kitchen, where she had gone.
He grabbed her foot and pulled her down onto the floor on her stomach and he began to pull her towards him. Buffy tuned over so she was facing him and she kicked him hard, causing him to let go and grimace in pain. Thus giving her enough time to run out of the house and to her neighbors were she called the police.
“Come back here!” Hank yelled after her as he watched her run down the street.
*”So I called the police and told them what happened,” Buffy told Spike.*
Buffy stood on her porch watching the scene in front of her as the lights of the cop cars and the ambulance passed over her face. She watched as her father was handcuffed, read his rights, and put in a police car and she watched as the ambulance took her mother away rushing her to the hospital.
“And that’s pretty much it and also why I’m here?”
“What happened to your mum?”
“She’s in a coma.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It’s not yours either.”
“Excuse me.”
“I said it’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself….”
“How do you know I blame myself?!”
“I can tell, the way you said everything…”
“Maybe because it *is* me fault. If it wasn’t for me she wouldn’t be in the hospital.”
“That’s not true.
“Oh, give it up like you don’t blame yourself everyday for your dad leaving or your sister’s death. Stop playing this game. We’ve both been playing it way too long.”
“And what game would that be?”
“The one where you hide everything from everyone- all the pain; where you never let anyone in and you never let them see you cry because you don’t want to seem weak,” she said beginning to break down.
“Buffy,” he said softly.
“I’m so tired of keeping everything in,” she says beginning to cry, “William I’m so tired.”
He begins to comfort, cradling her in his arms, “I know,” he says, “I know. Me too.”
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