Disclaimer: Joss owns it all.
A/N: An angsty Spike piece I wrote at about 11:30 on a school night. Don't be too harsh.


I. Am. So. Bloody. Tired.

My eyes feel like they've got bags of lead tied to 'em; I can barely get my arms and legs to respond to my brain. I haven't slept in three days and I don't see sleep anywhere in my immediate future, either. As much as I'd love to just close my eyes and be off with it, I can't. I can't because then I dream, and dreaming is more painful than sleep depravation.



It's always the same sodding thing, my dream is. Me and Buffy-- it's always about that bitch these days-- are back in the old abandoned house, shagging like animals. There's all the sweating and the moaning and the kissing and the talking dirty and the scratching and the nipping. Exactly like it *really* was. Except this time, in the midst of it all, she stops moving and looks at me. Just stops and stares at me with those God damn teal daggers she calls her eyes. I'm confused. Have I hurt her? "What's wrong, pet?" I ask. She smiles a little. "Nothing's wrong, Spike," she says. I frown. "Then why did you stop--" She silences me with a kiss, a gentle one, not like the mouth-crushing ones we'd been exchanging a second earlier. "I love you, Spike. I love you." I'm shocked. The Slayer just said the three words I *never* expected to ever again have directed at me by anyone, much less her, the girl who's destiny is to kill me and my kind. "Well, Buffy, ou know I love you you, too. I--" A cool finger on my lips. "Shhhh." Silence. She traces a path down my neck with that same finger before speaking again. "I love you. But you'll never really have me." And before I can ask her what she means, she slips into game face and sinks her teeth deep into my flesh. I scream, the pain is agonizing. And just when I feel the last of my conciousness start to slip away, she explodes into dust beneath me and I land hard on the ground. A piece of splintered wood shoots into me, missing my heart by a fraction of a centimeter.

The worst part is, I always wake up crying.



I don't know what it is about the Slayer. She makes me cry much more than I care to admit. I'm bloody well drowning in my love for her, but I'm too tired to swim. Sometimes I just wish she'd die so I could stop loving her. I could move on and find myself a girl who would return my feelings without kicking my ass everytime she got in a mood. Then I could be without all this sodding baggage and angst. I could be happy.

But I remember that even when she *was* dead I loved her more than I could bear. Hell, the only thing keeping me from staking myself was my promise to watch after the Nibblet. Even when she was dead, she consumed my unlife.

So I guess there's no escaping it. The only way I'll ever be sated is if Buffy returns my love. Death couldn't touch it. Hate couldn't touch it. Christ, not even fucking her six times in one night could touch it. It's a plague, it is, like my sodding chip but a million times worse. I'm the Slayer's whipping bitch.



Damnit, I'm out of bourbon. I'm depressed, exhausted, and now without a way to forget about both of those things. I have officially hit rock bottom.

See what she does to me? This is all Buffy's fault. All her bleeding fault. She makes my unlife an absolute unliving hell. I hate her with every fiber in my body. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her.

God, I love that woman.

END