Back and forth, never stopping...


"Spike…please come with us…you need to feed." The plea came from the redhead in the door-way.

*back and forth, back and forth…*

"I know that you're hurting…we all are…but she wouldn't want this…Spike..?"

*back and forth, back and forth, never stopping…*

Willow took two steps forward and reached out, fingertips brushing the blond vampires shoulder. He immidiatly flinged away, a strangeled noise rumbeling in his throath. Willow qucikly pulled her hand away.

'Well, at least that made him stop that rocking back and forward' Willow thought.

Then she heard him mumble something. "What?"

"I said…go…a…way…leave me alone!" he repeated, a little louder this time.

"But Spike…"

"LEAVE ME ALONE! GET OUT OF HERE, GET OUT!" he yelled in a throathy voice, tears blinking in his eyes. He grabbed the TV and threw it at the wall, shattering it into a million pieces.

Willow stumbled out of the dark crypt and took off running.


------------------------------------------------------------


Spike gasped, the sudden attack of rage consuming him. In a fresh blur of tears, he saw the witch run out of the door and into the night.

It had been 3 days. 3 days, 5 hours, 34 minutes and 20 seconds since it happened. Since the world…his world…had ended. He felt an overwhelming need to heave.

He reached out to grab the sofa, supporting himself. He sunk down to the floor with a thump, his legs betraying him. He leaned back against the sofa, his head connecting with the soft material.
And for the thousand time, his brain re-called the scene that would be forever carved into his mind.

Her broken, bruised body in the pile of wood and garbage. The nausea-ating smell of burnt flesh. And the blood. Oh God, there'd been so much blood…the scent of it still sorrounding him…consuming him.

He was still wrapped up in misery when he heard the door slowly swing open. He didn't look up.

"I…told…you…to…stay…AWAY!" he growled, hugging his knees. "Leave me alone, for christs sake"

"Spike…" the intruder whispered. He stiffened. But he still didn't look up.

He was quiet. She was quiet..

"You're not real" he finally stated firmly, hugging his knees thighter.

"Spike…look up…I'm real…I'm back!" she said, her tone taunting and loving.

He slowly lifted his head, looking up. It was her. It was actually her.

"Buffy..?" he tried. She slowly nodded at him and smiled broadly.

He was just about to jump up and hug her senseless, when reality came crashing down at him…again.

"You're not real…you're dead" he mumbled, slowly shaking his head. He could see the broad smile on her face slowly disappearing.

"Spike, I'm not dead…it's me…please…you have to believe me!" she pleaded, slowly sinking to her knees.

"No little lady, what you ARE…" he pointed one finger at her accusingly "..is a figment if my imagination"

"Am not"

"Are too"

She slowly moved closer. "No I'm not" she said again with a smug smile.

"No?"

"No"

Spike began to doubt his sanity. Have I gone mad? Did I finally crack up?

Then he spoke again "Yes you are. And if I reach out and touch you no, you'll dissapear. Don't try to deny it!"

"Spike…" she said in a low, husky voice "…touch me. I need you to touch me"

"No." He growled.

"Yes…do it…I won't disappear. Spike, please" she pleaded, her big hazel orbs staring into his blue ones.

At first, he didn't move. Then slowly and carefully he reached out. Then stopped again.

"Is that a promise?" he asked.

"It's a promise"

Then he reached all the way. His fist catching nothing but thin air. He just sat there with his arm stretched out, staring at the spot where she'd been just seconds before.

Then he sunk back to his original position. He hugged his knees thight again..and began to move.

*back and forth, back and forth, never stopping…*


End.


© MysLii 2001