"The only chance you had with me was when I was unconscious."
Buffy spoke slowly, making sure even he could understand her as she stared deeply into the vampire's eyes.
And the vampire did get it. 'So this is it,' he had thought to himself. 'This is all I get.'
The vampire part of him – his monster – knew that this would have been the end result. The girl, Buffy, was much too pure, much too golden and good for hands sullied by a century's worth of blood and tears. A girl such as she would never give him the light of day for the sole fact that he had no soul.
And that was supposed to be the way the world worked. Her reply shouldn't have surprised him.
Or anger him.
Or hurt him on a level that made him lose his world completely.
It was the human part of Spike that crumbled into ashes that day, even though his body remained flesh and bone intact. The human part of him had held on to the hope that perhaps she could accept him for the man he was and ignore the demon in him, just as he embraced her completely, woman and slayer she was. He wanted to be the man who could make her believe in love again and make her realize that here was her prince.
Or at least give him the chance to try.
But for her, the world was still black and white in this case. Of all the gray she had experienced, she still thought him a monster. No more, no less.
William gave up the fight, let her know that she was right, once again. He would take up his fate to be a man she could never care for. He would assume the role of shadow – "obedient" follower of the one who held his undead heart in her hands and belittle himself to watching.
Because that was all she ever let him do.