Timeline: After the Gift, Season Five Finale
Disclaimer: Much to my regret, I do not own any of these characters. Especially Spike. If I did, why would I let him out of the house?
Thanks: ToAmethyst Soul, because without her constant pressure, I would have never signed on to Fanfiction.net and published this story.
One More Thing: This was written as a short story assignment two hours before it was due, so I will be back to add on more. That's it! Read on:
He could hear himself talking, stepping closer to her: "Come on, Slayer. You know you want to dance." Buffy, looking down on him: "Not you, Spike. It would never be you. You're beneath me." Looking up at him: "You're the only one who is strong enough to protect them." Himself, at the crypt: "I love you." Buffy, again, at her house: "What part of my punching you in the face did you not understand? Stay away from me, my friends, and my family." Giles, at the magic shop: "Whatever this is, Spike, get over it." Buffy, in the RV: "We need him! He's the only one besides me who has any chance of going up against Glory!" Buffy's face filled with sudden understanding: "Come in, Spike." The Doc, advancing towards him: "I don't smell a soul on you. Why are you trying to save her?" "I made a promise to her lady" "Well, I'll be sure to give the lady your regrets." Dawn's fear-filled eyes as Spike was pushed of the 30-story tower. Buffy's crumpled body , devoid of any heartbeat.
Images kept flickering through Spike's brain. "Buffy...." he gasped, his voice filled with pain. He killed her. Simple as that. But instead of the cocky arrogance that was Spike, he only felt sorrow and despair. There was no hope. If he had kept his promise, Buffy wouldn't have died. The woman he loved would still be alive. But she wasn't and it was all his fault.
Spike shot up, awakened by noises coming from upstairs. It took him a minute to remember where he was. He was in the Slayer's house, protecting Dawn till her father could be reached and inform of the circumstances. There was that noise again. He jumped off the couch, and all but ran up the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms.
"Dawn? Dawn, pet, where are you?" Spike jogged down the length of the hallway, stopping at the young girl's door and slowly pushing it open. "Niblet?"
His breath caught in his throat as saw her. She was hunched over on the twin bed, sobs racking her frail body. Her unkept hair hung in greasy strands, almost, but not quite, hiding her blotchy skin and hazel eyes rubbed red and raw in grief. Spike sucked in an unneeded breath and crossed the room in 2 strides. He sat down on the bed, pulling the crying child close to him. Dawn turned instantaneously, burying her face in his shoulder.
"I....miss her....soo....much!" Dawn gasped. Spike felt like his heart was breaking again, and found himself unable to stop the tears running down his own face as she continued. "I loved her more than anything, and neither she nor my mom coming back...ever!"
Spike flinched as he remembered all the pain he had felt when Joyce died, added to the excruciating pain caused by Buffy's demise.
"Here," he prompted, picked her up and deposited her in his lap, with her head resting on his chest. "That's right, Little Bit, cry it out," Spike murmured into her hair, rocking her as one would a baby. "Cry it out..." he repeated, more to himself rather than Dawn this time. He continued rocking her until the sobs subsided, cooing soft, comforting words even as his own insides felt twisted in grief.
When Dawn stopped crying, Spike used his thumb and forefinger to lift her chin, guiding her pain-filled face to look him in the eyes as he began to speak.
"I loved Buffy, more than all the world. Drusilla, my Black Queen, was exactly that; black and dark and distorted compared to the goodness and light that surrounded your sister. Buffy was the sunshine that I thought I'd never feel again. She would have never loved me in return, but she accepted me for who I was, and for that I will continue to love her for all eternity. Literally. She sacrificed herself so that you could live, we all could live, in a world with love. And I, for one, am not going to have that sacrifice be made in vain. I swore to Buffy I would protect you till the end of the world, and that's exactly what I plan to do.
"I wish I could tell you that the hurt and pain will go away, but I can't. I can tell you though, that it will lesson over time, and you will find happiness again. I'm not going to delude you from the truth. Even with all the happiness you have waiting for you, there will be moments of pain, of despair so great it threatens to swallow you whole. But I promise you , Dawn, I will always be here to help you. I will never leave you. And as long as we have each other, we have everything." He let out a (unneeded) sigh. "Okay?"
"Thank you, Spike," she whispered, then got to her feet. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she muttered, "You wanna, uh, get something to eat?"
"Sure, pet," he chuckled, and started to stand. Dawn regarded him for a moment.
"It wasn't your fault, you know."
Spike stared at her, his eyes flashing pain, then gave her a small, sad smile.
"I keep telling myself that up here," he replied, tapping the side of his head, "but I still can't convince myself here," moving his fingers over his unbeating heart, "and I don't think I ever will.
"Now, what about that food?" he said, trying again to lighten the atmosphere.
It worked, and Dawn started naming off the leftovers in the fridge as they walked out of her room and down the stairs. Spike tuned her out as he thought about the long, impromptu speech he just made. Niblet was right. It wasn't his fault. But that wasn't going to stop him from trying to atone. He was going to fight the good fight, helping the scoobies slay all the nasties. Maybe the Slayer was watching him right now from heaven. Geez, how the bloody poof would be laughing his fangs off if he could hear Spike right now. But in light of all that had happened, that thought didn't anger Spike as much as he thought it would.
Because there was now hope for the future, instead of only overwhelming despair.
Disclaimer: Much to my regret, I do not own any of these characters. Especially Spike. If I did, why would I let him out of the house?
Thanks: ToAmethyst Soul, because without her constant pressure, I would have never signed on to Fanfiction.net and published this story.
One More Thing: This was written as a short story assignment two hours before it was due, so I will be back to add on more. That's it! Read on:
He could hear himself talking, stepping closer to her: "Come on, Slayer. You know you want to dance." Buffy, looking down on him: "Not you, Spike. It would never be you. You're beneath me." Looking up at him: "You're the only one who is strong enough to protect them." Himself, at the crypt: "I love you." Buffy, again, at her house: "What part of my punching you in the face did you not understand? Stay away from me, my friends, and my family." Giles, at the magic shop: "Whatever this is, Spike, get over it." Buffy, in the RV: "We need him! He's the only one besides me who has any chance of going up against Glory!" Buffy's face filled with sudden understanding: "Come in, Spike." The Doc, advancing towards him: "I don't smell a soul on you. Why are you trying to save her?" "I made a promise to her lady" "Well, I'll be sure to give the lady your regrets." Dawn's fear-filled eyes as Spike was pushed of the 30-story tower. Buffy's crumpled body , devoid of any heartbeat.
Images kept flickering through Spike's brain. "Buffy...." he gasped, his voice filled with pain. He killed her. Simple as that. But instead of the cocky arrogance that was Spike, he only felt sorrow and despair. There was no hope. If he had kept his promise, Buffy wouldn't have died. The woman he loved would still be alive. But she wasn't and it was all his fault.
Spike shot up, awakened by noises coming from upstairs. It took him a minute to remember where he was. He was in the Slayer's house, protecting Dawn till her father could be reached and inform of the circumstances. There was that noise again. He jumped off the couch, and all but ran up the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms.
"Dawn? Dawn, pet, where are you?" Spike jogged down the length of the hallway, stopping at the young girl's door and slowly pushing it open. "Niblet?"
His breath caught in his throat as saw her. She was hunched over on the twin bed, sobs racking her frail body. Her unkept hair hung in greasy strands, almost, but not quite, hiding her blotchy skin and hazel eyes rubbed red and raw in grief. Spike sucked in an unneeded breath and crossed the room in 2 strides. He sat down on the bed, pulling the crying child close to him. Dawn turned instantaneously, burying her face in his shoulder.
"I....miss her....soo....much!" Dawn gasped. Spike felt like his heart was breaking again, and found himself unable to stop the tears running down his own face as she continued. "I loved her more than anything, and neither she nor my mom coming back...ever!"
Spike flinched as he remembered all the pain he had felt when Joyce died, added to the excruciating pain caused by Buffy's demise.
"Here," he prompted, picked her up and deposited her in his lap, with her head resting on his chest. "That's right, Little Bit, cry it out," Spike murmured into her hair, rocking her as one would a baby. "Cry it out..." he repeated, more to himself rather than Dawn this time. He continued rocking her until the sobs subsided, cooing soft, comforting words even as his own insides felt twisted in grief.
When Dawn stopped crying, Spike used his thumb and forefinger to lift her chin, guiding her pain-filled face to look him in the eyes as he began to speak.
"I loved Buffy, more than all the world. Drusilla, my Black Queen, was exactly that; black and dark and distorted compared to the goodness and light that surrounded your sister. Buffy was the sunshine that I thought I'd never feel again. She would have never loved me in return, but she accepted me for who I was, and for that I will continue to love her for all eternity. Literally. She sacrificed herself so that you could live, we all could live, in a world with love. And I, for one, am not going to have that sacrifice be made in vain. I swore to Buffy I would protect you till the end of the world, and that's exactly what I plan to do.
"I wish I could tell you that the hurt and pain will go away, but I can't. I can tell you though, that it will lesson over time, and you will find happiness again. I'm not going to delude you from the truth. Even with all the happiness you have waiting for you, there will be moments of pain, of despair so great it threatens to swallow you whole. But I promise you , Dawn, I will always be here to help you. I will never leave you. And as long as we have each other, we have everything." He let out a (unneeded) sigh. "Okay?"
"Thank you, Spike," she whispered, then got to her feet. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she muttered, "You wanna, uh, get something to eat?"
"Sure, pet," he chuckled, and started to stand. Dawn regarded him for a moment.
"It wasn't your fault, you know."
Spike stared at her, his eyes flashing pain, then gave her a small, sad smile.
"I keep telling myself that up here," he replied, tapping the side of his head, "but I still can't convince myself here," moving his fingers over his unbeating heart, "and I don't think I ever will.
"Now, what about that food?" he said, trying again to lighten the atmosphere.
It worked, and Dawn started naming off the leftovers in the fridge as they walked out of her room and down the stairs. Spike tuned her out as he thought about the long, impromptu speech he just made. Niblet was right. It wasn't his fault. But that wasn't going to stop him from trying to atone. He was going to fight the good fight, helping the scoobies slay all the nasties. Maybe the Slayer was watching him right now from heaven. Geez, how the bloody poof would be laughing his fangs off if he could hear Spike right now. But in light of all that had happened, that thought didn't anger Spike as much as he thought it would.
Because there was now hope for the future, instead of only overwhelming despair.