Just The Truth: A Push From A Sister
by inlovewithangel
She lay in bed, her sleep-tangled blonde hair spread out over the pillow. Her eyes were opened, but they didn’t really see. They weren’t looking at the sunlight that flooded the bedroom, or its light blue walls, or the pictures of friends and family that were laid out across the mantle piece. She was just staring ahead, in those moments right after arriving into the wakeful world, when your mind just takes you away.
In those moments, it’s hard to guard against painful memories. The doors that one closes and locks right after reaching full consciousness are threateningly open.
Dark eyes, dark hair, strong hands, cool lips—cool lips meeting her own…
With that, Buffy jerked fully awake and sat up. She sighed and drew her knees to her chest. This wasn’t unusual—it was how she started every one of her Roman mornings. Dawn was in the kitchen cooking breakfast while Buffy lay in bed thinking of the souled vamp.
It had been a month since Angel’s suicide mission where he nearly got everyone killed. Thank God for the Coven’s seers, otherwise Buffy wouldn’t have known to be in that alleyway behind the large hotel with an army of Slayers and the strongest Wicca in the world. The leagues of demons and dragons had been defeated. It was hardly the most difficult battle Buffy had fought, but it had given her a migraine nonetheless.
After it was finished, and they were in the hotel, Buffy had wanted to tell him. She’d wanted to say: That’s it, I’m done, I’m baked. She’d wanted to explain to him about so many things. She’d wanted to confide to him about betrayals and feelings that went back years. She’d wanted to be honest. Truly honest about her desires, her needs. Something she hadn’t been for years.
She’d done it with Spike. She’d sat down the blonde and hugged him, and looked into those piercing blue eyes that see through her to her very core and she’d told him how happy she was that he was back. She’d said more, even, than that. She’d finally laid it all out for him. No hinting at things, no implications. Just the truth.
Her speech had gone something like this: “You’ve known how to read me better than anyone in this world. Even when I was a junior in high school and we circled each other outside the Bronze, and you told me you were going to kill me—you knew me. You knew what I feared, what I wanted. You knew what I was. Somehow, you’ve always known. You’re not human, but you understand so much about humanity, and, God, I love you for that. I used you for a long time, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Spike. And then you got a soul, and there were so many feelings that were unresolved. Lust, and desire… and love. I watched you giving your life for the world, and I had a sword wound that went through me, but nothing hurt as much as your words. ‘No you don’t, but thanks for saying it.’ I don’t say those three words without meaning them. And I did mean them Spike. And I can still say them and have them be true: I love you. But…”
That was when she faltered. She just stared into his eyes full of love and respect for her, and she thought about how easy it would be to fall into his arms. How much more convenient it would be to not deal with his Sire. She considered it for more than a few seconds. But she shook it off. There was no way she could do it. Not to the man that sat in front of her. “But, I wouldn’t feel right about telling you that you were the only one in my heart. Because you’re not. You’re there, Spike, and you always will be. But… he… fits. I… belong… with him, Spike. And, I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. God, I am so sorry.” She sobbed. She watched him drop her hands. She watched him give a short nod and start to push himself off the couch. But then, he stopped, and laid a gentle kiss against her lips.
“Seventy six trombones, pet,” he said, smiling sadly.
Buffy was puzzled, at first, as he got up and left. She stared at his back as he walked away, and tried to make sense of his words. And then it came back to her. “The day you suss out what you do want, there’ll probably be a parade. Seventy six bloody trombones.” Buffy smiled through her tears. What she wanted. It was so clear, now.
She stood, feeling slightly unsteady on her feet. She felt as if she was about to faint. Be it from the exhausting fight, or the fear of love, Buffy grew dizzy.
She managed to collect herself enough to climb the stairs, resting her weight against the banister. She knocked lightly against the door of the room he was in. She didn’t wait for an answer. She turned the knob and went in.
He sat by Gunn’s sleeping form. His elbows rested on his knees, and his fingers were laced together and he laid his face against his hands. His eyes lingered on the body of his friend, but Buffy knew his thoughts were on the colleagues, the lovers, and the partners who weren’t with him today. The half demon that Angel credited with starting his journey for redemption, Doyle. The woman that he had loved and trusted, Cordelia. The girl that he had wanted so desperately to protect, to grow up and become the brilliant physicist he had always known she was, Fred. The man who he had despised, then loved, mocked, then trusted. The man that was possibly the most tortured soul he knew besides himself—Wesley.
“Buffy,” he had said quietly, turning his attention to her.
Buffy had looked at him through her hazel eyes, teary with compassion, and wanted to tell him everything. But instead, she went over to him and kissed him on the cheek and said, “It’ll be okay.” She sat with him and held his hand, and he cried, like heroes only can when they’re with another hero, but she didn’t tell him. Hours later, she left, and he didn’t know how ready she was.
And now she was back in her little apartment. She was back with her little sister, and back to the frequent calls of her real father and her best friends. Back to the relaxing life she had set up for herself.
He was doing fine, or so he had told her the week before. He, Gunn, Spike and Illyria were settled back into the Hyperion, and were starting over. Angel Investigations, he said, (now called by a different name because Spike wouldn’t let him get away with that) was once again up and running.
But every morning: Dark eyes, dark hair, strong hands, cool lips—cool lips meeting her own…The thoughts wouldn’t leave her alone, but she didn’t even know how to go about telling him.
“Buffy?” Dawn called, as she pushed open her older sisters door. “You okay?”
Buffy grinned. “‘Course, Dawnie, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you have Angel face,” Dawn said in explanation.
Buffy sighed and looked away from her sister’s insightful eyes and turned to the window. “Yeah.”
“You should talk to him, Buffy.” Dawn drew her legs under herself, and sat with Buffy on her bed, Indian Style.
Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know, Dawn. It’s pretty complicated.”
Dawn mirrored her sister’s gesture. “Most things are.”
“Do you think I’m just scared, Dawnie?” The twenty three year old champion asked the seventeen year old high school student.
“Yes,” she told her simply.
Buffy looked away again, and then nodded. “I guess so. I guess I’m scared.” Her eyes flicked back to the brunette. “Why am I scared? Why am I so scared?”
“Because,” Dawn began, “Because being in love is hard. Being in love means searching deep into yourself and tapping into pain. It means letting someone in, letting someone find out all your darkest secrets. It means honesty.” Dawn gave a small smile and scooted backwards so that she sat beside her sister. “You’re kinda a complicated person, Buff. I don’t know if you’ve noticed.”
Buffy frowned. “Huh?”
“I mean, you were the leader for so long, Buffy. You were the one that had to be strong, had to be the hero. It’s hard to show yourself—even to the one you love—when you’re in that position. But now…” Dawn trailed off, meeting her sister’s eyes with her own.
“Now?”
“You don’t have to be the leader. You don’t have to be strong all the time. And that’s… scary for you.” Dawn reached over and put a blonde lock behind her sister’s ear. “Right?”
Buffy’s lips were pursed and her eyebrows were knitted together as she nodded. Dawn knew she was trying to hold back tears.
“Come here,” Dawn whispered, as she opened her arms and collected her sister into them. She stroked her hair, and, after a little while, said, “You’re going to LA, Buffy.”
Buffy jerked away, eyes red from crying. “What? Dawn, I—”
“Buffy, there’s really no arguing about this.” Dawn kissed her on the cheek and jumped up from the bed, crossing to Buffy’s closet and flinging open the door. She bent down, digging for something until she finally pulled out a small suitcase.
The noise it made as she unzipped it made Buffy feel like someone was ripping open her heart. “Dawn, I can’t leave now, Giles—”
“Giles is fine,” Dawn interrupted. “Giles is a grownup.”
“Willow—”
“Has Kennedy,” Dawn reminded her, transferring neatly folded clothes from the chest of drawers to the suitcase that now lay open on the hardwood floor.
Buffy frowned, her eyes shifting rapidly, signifying that her brain was moving horrifyingly quickly, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why she should not take the transcontinental flight. She looked up finally. “I have to stay with you—”
“Faith,” Dawn spoke up.
Buffy snorted. “What about her?”
Dawn stopped and sighed. “Is coming here. To look after me.” She rolled her eyes. “Even though I’m old enough to stay by myself.”
“I really don’t trust her—”
“Xander will be with her. You know how tight they are now.” Dawn resumed her older sister’s packing. “Your flight is at nine tonight so you’re going to want to—”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Buffy stopped her, finally jumping up and turning to her little sister. “My flight? You booked me a flight? And you didn’t tell me?”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “Buffy, I’m sorry, but this obsessing had to stop. No more excuses. No more lies.” Dawn turned around and pulled something out of Buffy’s underwear drawer. “LA,” she said firmly, handing Buffy a ticket.
“One way?” Buffy questioned, opening the blue United envelope and reading the data on the slip of paper.
“We don’t know how long you will be staying,” Dawn said.
Buffy eyed her but nodded. Then she said, “But—”
“No more ‘buts’ Buffy,” Dawn said quietly. She sighed and approached the bed, sitting down and looking at her sister. “I know Angel and your relationship is difficult, Buff. I know that he brings up a lot of unwanted memories. I know. But, you love him. He loves you. It’s time to let the past go. It’s time to move on.”
“Dawn,” Buffy almost pleaded. “You don’t understand, I can’t… When we were together...”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Pain, heartbreak, betrayal… I know. I’ve heard it all before.” Dawn stood up again. “Let it go. You have to let it go.”
“But, Dawn… he’s had so many horrible things happen to him, and I—”
Dawn stared at Buffy like she was crazy. “Buffy, you were freaking ripped out of heaven! Your mom died! Tara died! You’ve had plenty of FREAKING horrible things happen to you.” Dawn was breathing hard as she stood above her sister. “Maybe it’s time for you to start considering the fact that together, there will be less horrible things,” she added, more quietly.
Buffy just looked at her sister, an unsure expression on her face. She fingered the ticket. "What do I say to him?" she asked.
"Just the truth, Buffy. Just the truth."
This story archived at: The Slayer\'s Fanfic Archive
The Slayer\\\\\\\\'s FanFic Archive - http://www.slayerfanfic.com/viewstory.php?sid=4319