**Angels Will Run and Hide**
Summary: After Spike leaves Sunnydale in Seeing Red (S6), he never goes back. Now, years later, as Buffy is about to die on her deathbed, he comes to visit her one more time. Angst/Drama. B/S.
Disclaimer: I own everything! (Waves hands around in drunken slur, half- finished bottle in one hand.) Joss Whedon can kiss my ass! (Someone slaps her for the sake of God, and she snaps back.) Uh, Joss is an evil, genious God. He owns everything, dammit, even naked, nummy Spikes. Ohhh, naked Spikes . . .someone slap me again . . .
A/n: I don't really have much to say. Just please read and review. Oh yeah, means thoughts, and * means flashback.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I'm tired of unhappy ever after endings. I'm tired of make believe heroes. I'm tired of waking up here. I'm tired of wanting you."
~*~*~*
*
"Love isn't brains people, it's blood."
*
It was dimmer now, the light fading as the clock wound down. She was calm, and she knew that she was not afraid. Her life had been lived fully, but was missing pieces, missing things that would have truly made her happy. But happiness was never a priority for her, only that those around her were happy, and loved her, mattered. Love had been lost and people betrayed, but her life had been normal. That's all he had ever wanted for her, after all, if her life couldn't be with him.
He strode in with his usual cocky gait, hair still bleached white, black duster still intact and billowing behind him, just like a superhero. Or maybe the villain, the Big Bad that he always was. His eyes were still deep as the ocean and full of predatory shine, seeking her out and pinning her to him even after all of those years. Cheekbones still sharp slashes in pale cheeks, holding the image of the Greek god that he was, and always would be until the day he turned to ashes. But most of all, he still gave her the same look of love, the same look of utter adoration that she tried to avoid years ago.
What a fool she had been.
She just looked at him, lying on her white bed, a shadow of the brilliance she used to be. To him, still beautiful, hair still almost golden in it's white state and eyes still bright and full of emotion, though surrounded in wrinkles. He wanted to touch her and taste her again, to have her one last time before he lost her forever, left him broken again. But she was to weak, her bones to fragile, and she didn't have an ounce of her Slayer strength left. So he let her be, tried to be content with one last look at the woman he had loved, and always would, for the rest of eternity.
*
"I can't do this anymore, pet."
"Then don't."
*
She didn't speak yet, just looked at him, conveying her emotions with one glance. The love and pain, the sadness and guilt, the bitterness and regret. And he just stared back, taking a seat beside her bed, cocking his head to one side as he took her in, memorized every plane and dip, every new line and mark. He longed to ask her what she had done, if she had been happy, but he didn't want to make her hurt again, to open fresh wounds. It was she who broke the thick silence, her voice a mere breath that was swallowed up in the empty room.
"I was happy, Spike. I got married, had the white picket fence, and was loved. It was everything I had ever wanted."
She spoke as though it was fact, but her eyes held secrets, broken dreams and shattered hearts. Still he didn't speak, though his own heart felt full to the bursting point, the sadness threatening to overtake him. He loved her more then he could bear, but left because she didn't feel the same. It had simply been that. After all these years, he wanted to know what her life had become, to know if she was happy without him.
"I had everything I wanted except for you, Spike."
Buffy looked at him, tears welling up, but still he did not say a word. She didn't expect him too, didn't want him to mar this final time she had with him, that she had craved for since he left. She needed to tell him everything, needed him to see that she regretted her whole life, except the time with him. Through her last years, she had known that he would come back once more for her. It seemed appropriate that he would be the one to see her die, after all, to be the one that saw her fall, her demise.
*
"Why, Slayer?"
"Because."
*
He tried not to feel the throbbing pain, but one look at the dying old woman in front of him was enough for his chest to constrict. His whole existence from that time with her had been a blur of cheap booze and even cheaper woman, all the while knowing he could never go back. He was a hopeless creature that stalked empty streets, seeing what he could never have. Even Dru had left him, staked by some nameless human that Spike had sought revenge on and killed. Life was pointless without his Buffy or his Dru, but it was only her he cared for at that point.
"After you left, we were all shocked yes, but relieved for the most part. You changed us Spike, with your strange behavior and weird morals. None of us would admit it, but we missed you. So when you left, we could pretend that everything was normal again."
She turned her head away from him, not letting him see the hot salty tears stream down her worn face. Her heart was breaking in two, but still she fought for this precious moment of redemption, this final time of pure love that didn't need to be hidden, didn't need to be denied, didn't need to be broken. Love that was meant all along, yet was covered in doubt. A person's greatest foe is their denial. And throughout Buffy's life she had swallowed denial with a vengeance.
*Ring around the rosie*
He bit his lip, worrying the skin with blunt teeth. He needed to tell her, needed her to know, but her pain was already to a fever pitch. Somehow her spirit had been crushed again, and Spike wept inside for the fact he hadn't been there to help her up again. He wanted to kill the wanker she had married, to turn back time so he could make it all right again, but it was to late. It was to late for everything.
"I met him in L.A. on another trip to see Angel."
She turned her face back to Spike, voice horse with her tears. Spike nodded slowly, having spoken with Angel just yesterday. His Sire had been the one to call Spike, to let him know that Buffy was soon going to leave this Earth, not to be brought back. Spike had bitterly wept for hours, and hurried over across two states to be here. His life had ended with that call, yet still he had made it to the hospital in time to see his dying love was more.
"He was a great person to everyone except me. Almost a replica of Riley, except he was rich and foolish, and didn't know about my Slaying. Somehow, I kept it a secret. Or maybe he just didn't care enough to look deeper into my habitual night tendencies, my blood soaked clothes, or my freakish air." Buffy bit out bitterly, laughing harshly. Spike held back a cringe and at the same time a snarl.
"I didn't love him. How could I? You ruined me for anyone else. But still I stayed with him, even though Angel said I was a fool."
She paused again, sniffling softly. Spike almost smirked, thinking of his strong relationship with his Sire. After Spike had left Sunnydale, he and Angel had repaired broken bonds, and were close again. Angel knew of Spike's love for Buffy, and had tried to subtly make her see it. But she was blind, and listened to no one except her biased logic.
*
"If I left would you even care?"
"Never."
*
Spike shifted in his chair, savoring the faint scent of vanilla and power, a scent he had always associated with Buffy. It was rich and intoxicating, and it made him want to die.
"So I married him. We never had kids. He didn't like them."
She paused again, and finally Spike said something. Leaning forward on his knees, he looked deep in her sad, tired eyes and asked her the thing addling his mind for decades.
"What happened to Nibblet?"
Buffy looked at him and she almost died right then and there. Her thin eyebrows raised and her eyes gushed forth tears, her mouth tight so that the screams would be locked away forever, unheard and unbidden by anyone but her.
"Oh God, Spike. Five years after you left, while she was away at college, she was bit by a vampire. A vampire that claimed he loved her, though he had no soul. He killed her, drained her dry, and disappeared. Everything in me went with her, Spike, and I was never the same."
Spike sat in shock, reeling with the revelation. His blue eyes were wide, mouth slightly open. Buffy couldn't bear to look at the sight anymore, so she flicked her gaze upward toward the stained ceiling. She knew that he must be beating himself up for not being there, for not staking the filthy little shit himself. Buffy knew that feeling, because she had felt it for years after, and still to this day.
*
"Do you love me, kitten?"
"I could never love you."
*
"The rest of the gang fell apart. Anya became a Demon again, and left because she couldn't stay with Xander. And Willow, Willow was broken after Tara died by a freak accident, a gunshot wound to the heart. She had to get help, because she went crazy, and was put in a mental asylum. I haven't seen her since that day."
Buffy sighed, a sigh filled with history and pain, and a broken heart that had never mended. Spike stayed silent, but knew that he would have to tell her. So he decided that it would be now, so she could understand her life hadn't been wasted, that he had wanted her to have some semblance of normal. He just wished that she had been happy, because it would have erased his own pain and longing.
*Pocket full of posie*
"Pet, I've something to tell you."
She looked back at him, frowning at his serious, brooding look. It was eerily Angel-like, and it almost scared her. She couldn't handle another shock, especially one to do with Spike.
"I've got a soul, kitten. I got it ever since the year I left you. "
Buffy gasped, her eyes huge, tears trickling down unnoticed. He grabbed her frail hand and held it tight while she absorbed the information. Soon she found her bearings and she nodded sadly.
"So much was lost, Spike."
"I know, baby."
"I needed you, even though I could never admit it."
"I know that, too."
Buffy drew in a shaky breath, and he brushed away a silken lock of hair from her forehead. Volumes were communicated with one glance, love and pain and forgiveness and apologies, all of it was said silently. Spike just wished that it didn't have to be right before he lost it all again, before he was plunged into despair once more.
*
"I hate you Spike."
"And I'm all you've got."
*
"I love you, Spike."
Buffy said it softly, and he smiled at her, a smile filed with hate and love and pain and utter desolation. It broke her heart. His eyes were soft and blurry in her thinning vision, but she could see the regret there. It hurt her to know that she had caused it all, that she had been the one to shatter their hearts and cause the rift. But she had been naïve and stubborn. Now she was granted with everything she had wanted, but would never be able to appreciate it, or enjoy it. Her time was coming soon, and he would be lost again.
"I'm so sorry Spike."
"I am too, baby."
They sat together in painful silence, knowing that their minutes were counted. Buffy was seeing black spots at the edge of her vision, and Spike could hear the slowing beat of her heart. It was minutes until all their fire and passion was lost, minutes until love would once again be forgotten, once again denied access. It was cruel and disgusting and it was all too familiar. Their love had been cursed from the start. You see, Buffy and Angel were soul mates, but were never meant to be. Spike was meant to love her, but never meant to have her.
*
"It's over, luv."
"It can't be over because it never even started."
*
"I love you Buffy. I always have, through all these years."
Buffy nodded, and Spike stood up to brush a soft kiss of her lips. She sighed in pleasure, finally happy and purely content. But Spike was in aching pain, although he was helpless to fight it. He couldn't save her this time. Couldn't stop the blackness from taking her form him, this time. She would leave without a trace.
"I danced with you in my dreams, luv. Every night I did, and every night to come I will. My heart will be yours forever, Buffy. Forever and ever, until I meet you again someday. Never doubt that I'll come for you."
Buffy smiled, shutting her eyes for the last time, imprinting his face on her memory, tattooing him to her mind. Her breathing slowed, and a lone tear escaped from Spike's pained eyes.
**There's a chair in my head, in which I used to sit, Took a pencil and I wrote, my most private thoughts on it.**
A life full of lies. A life that could have been joyful and happy, but was instead built upon denial and hate. All because of me. All because of destiny. Slayer and Vampire. Lovers and enemies. We hate each other, and we love each other. We fought and we made love, yet it wasn't enough for me. And now, when it finally is, I can't accept it.
With a final whisper of "Good-bye Spike. I've always loved you," she was gone. In a whoosh of tears and a silent scream of death she left him, slipped out of his fingertips, and he died too. He let go of her hand and shook his head, wishing that it wasn't true. Her youthful eyes haunted him, that smile that he had loved, her shiny hair glinting in the moonlight. All gone. All gone.
* "Leave, Spike."
"I could leave, but then where would you be?"
*
*
"You're a monster. You kill and cause pain. Nothing more."
"But you're the one who loves me."
*
*
"Why do you hurt me, Spike?"
"I hurt you because I love you."
*
Spike stood in the death room alone, beside her bed. His mind was spinning, his heart felt like it was beating right through his chest, his soul as though it was being ripped out of him. He couldn't take it, didn't want too, didn't want the pain and anguish. Putting pale hands to his blonde head, he fell to his knees.
Slayer. Graveyard, fighting. Fighting me. Fucking me. You're a demon. Blonde hair in the moonlight. So bloody beautiful. Crypt. Bronze. Witch. Spell, and we're getting married. I love you. Hates me. Hot and fiery. She's dead. Didn't save her. Sister likes me. Dawn. Beneath her. Sunset. Stakes and holy water. Hell gods and werewolves. All I want is to love you.
~*~*
With a final cry, the lean blonde vampire pulled a sharp wooden stake out of his duster pocket, and he plunged it into his chest, straight into his dead heart. With one last anguished look to the dead women on the bed, he whispered, "I love you, Slayer." And then he crumbled into a million pieces, his blue eyes the last to turn to dust. With a clatter the stake fell to the floor, and it was all silent, except for one haunting whisper.
*Ashes, ashes, we all fall down*
~FINIS~
Summary: After Spike leaves Sunnydale in Seeing Red (S6), he never goes back. Now, years later, as Buffy is about to die on her deathbed, he comes to visit her one more time. Angst/Drama. B/S.
Disclaimer: I own everything! (Waves hands around in drunken slur, half- finished bottle in one hand.) Joss Whedon can kiss my ass! (Someone slaps her for the sake of God, and she snaps back.) Uh, Joss is an evil, genious God. He owns everything, dammit, even naked, nummy Spikes. Ohhh, naked Spikes . . .someone slap me again . . .
A/n: I don't really have much to say. Just please read and review. Oh yeah, means thoughts, and * means flashback.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I'm tired of unhappy ever after endings. I'm tired of make believe heroes. I'm tired of waking up here. I'm tired of wanting you."
~*~*~*
*
"Love isn't brains people, it's blood."
*
It was dimmer now, the light fading as the clock wound down. She was calm, and she knew that she was not afraid. Her life had been lived fully, but was missing pieces, missing things that would have truly made her happy. But happiness was never a priority for her, only that those around her were happy, and loved her, mattered. Love had been lost and people betrayed, but her life had been normal. That's all he had ever wanted for her, after all, if her life couldn't be with him.
He strode in with his usual cocky gait, hair still bleached white, black duster still intact and billowing behind him, just like a superhero. Or maybe the villain, the Big Bad that he always was. His eyes were still deep as the ocean and full of predatory shine, seeking her out and pinning her to him even after all of those years. Cheekbones still sharp slashes in pale cheeks, holding the image of the Greek god that he was, and always would be until the day he turned to ashes. But most of all, he still gave her the same look of love, the same look of utter adoration that she tried to avoid years ago.
What a fool she had been.
She just looked at him, lying on her white bed, a shadow of the brilliance she used to be. To him, still beautiful, hair still almost golden in it's white state and eyes still bright and full of emotion, though surrounded in wrinkles. He wanted to touch her and taste her again, to have her one last time before he lost her forever, left him broken again. But she was to weak, her bones to fragile, and she didn't have an ounce of her Slayer strength left. So he let her be, tried to be content with one last look at the woman he had loved, and always would, for the rest of eternity.
*
"I can't do this anymore, pet."
"Then don't."
*
She didn't speak yet, just looked at him, conveying her emotions with one glance. The love and pain, the sadness and guilt, the bitterness and regret. And he just stared back, taking a seat beside her bed, cocking his head to one side as he took her in, memorized every plane and dip, every new line and mark. He longed to ask her what she had done, if she had been happy, but he didn't want to make her hurt again, to open fresh wounds. It was she who broke the thick silence, her voice a mere breath that was swallowed up in the empty room.
"I was happy, Spike. I got married, had the white picket fence, and was loved. It was everything I had ever wanted."
She spoke as though it was fact, but her eyes held secrets, broken dreams and shattered hearts. Still he didn't speak, though his own heart felt full to the bursting point, the sadness threatening to overtake him. He loved her more then he could bear, but left because she didn't feel the same. It had simply been that. After all these years, he wanted to know what her life had become, to know if she was happy without him.
"I had everything I wanted except for you, Spike."
Buffy looked at him, tears welling up, but still he did not say a word. She didn't expect him too, didn't want him to mar this final time she had with him, that she had craved for since he left. She needed to tell him everything, needed him to see that she regretted her whole life, except the time with him. Through her last years, she had known that he would come back once more for her. It seemed appropriate that he would be the one to see her die, after all, to be the one that saw her fall, her demise.
*
"Why, Slayer?"
"Because."
*
He tried not to feel the throbbing pain, but one look at the dying old woman in front of him was enough for his chest to constrict. His whole existence from that time with her had been a blur of cheap booze and even cheaper woman, all the while knowing he could never go back. He was a hopeless creature that stalked empty streets, seeing what he could never have. Even Dru had left him, staked by some nameless human that Spike had sought revenge on and killed. Life was pointless without his Buffy or his Dru, but it was only her he cared for at that point.
"After you left, we were all shocked yes, but relieved for the most part. You changed us Spike, with your strange behavior and weird morals. None of us would admit it, but we missed you. So when you left, we could pretend that everything was normal again."
She turned her head away from him, not letting him see the hot salty tears stream down her worn face. Her heart was breaking in two, but still she fought for this precious moment of redemption, this final time of pure love that didn't need to be hidden, didn't need to be denied, didn't need to be broken. Love that was meant all along, yet was covered in doubt. A person's greatest foe is their denial. And throughout Buffy's life she had swallowed denial with a vengeance.
*Ring around the rosie*
He bit his lip, worrying the skin with blunt teeth. He needed to tell her, needed her to know, but her pain was already to a fever pitch. Somehow her spirit had been crushed again, and Spike wept inside for the fact he hadn't been there to help her up again. He wanted to kill the wanker she had married, to turn back time so he could make it all right again, but it was to late. It was to late for everything.
"I met him in L.A. on another trip to see Angel."
She turned her face back to Spike, voice horse with her tears. Spike nodded slowly, having spoken with Angel just yesterday. His Sire had been the one to call Spike, to let him know that Buffy was soon going to leave this Earth, not to be brought back. Spike had bitterly wept for hours, and hurried over across two states to be here. His life had ended with that call, yet still he had made it to the hospital in time to see his dying love was more.
"He was a great person to everyone except me. Almost a replica of Riley, except he was rich and foolish, and didn't know about my Slaying. Somehow, I kept it a secret. Or maybe he just didn't care enough to look deeper into my habitual night tendencies, my blood soaked clothes, or my freakish air." Buffy bit out bitterly, laughing harshly. Spike held back a cringe and at the same time a snarl.
"I didn't love him. How could I? You ruined me for anyone else. But still I stayed with him, even though Angel said I was a fool."
She paused again, sniffling softly. Spike almost smirked, thinking of his strong relationship with his Sire. After Spike had left Sunnydale, he and Angel had repaired broken bonds, and were close again. Angel knew of Spike's love for Buffy, and had tried to subtly make her see it. But she was blind, and listened to no one except her biased logic.
*
"If I left would you even care?"
"Never."
*
Spike shifted in his chair, savoring the faint scent of vanilla and power, a scent he had always associated with Buffy. It was rich and intoxicating, and it made him want to die.
"So I married him. We never had kids. He didn't like them."
She paused again, and finally Spike said something. Leaning forward on his knees, he looked deep in her sad, tired eyes and asked her the thing addling his mind for decades.
"What happened to Nibblet?"
Buffy looked at him and she almost died right then and there. Her thin eyebrows raised and her eyes gushed forth tears, her mouth tight so that the screams would be locked away forever, unheard and unbidden by anyone but her.
"Oh God, Spike. Five years after you left, while she was away at college, she was bit by a vampire. A vampire that claimed he loved her, though he had no soul. He killed her, drained her dry, and disappeared. Everything in me went with her, Spike, and I was never the same."
Spike sat in shock, reeling with the revelation. His blue eyes were wide, mouth slightly open. Buffy couldn't bear to look at the sight anymore, so she flicked her gaze upward toward the stained ceiling. She knew that he must be beating himself up for not being there, for not staking the filthy little shit himself. Buffy knew that feeling, because she had felt it for years after, and still to this day.
*
"Do you love me, kitten?"
"I could never love you."
*
"The rest of the gang fell apart. Anya became a Demon again, and left because she couldn't stay with Xander. And Willow, Willow was broken after Tara died by a freak accident, a gunshot wound to the heart. She had to get help, because she went crazy, and was put in a mental asylum. I haven't seen her since that day."
Buffy sighed, a sigh filled with history and pain, and a broken heart that had never mended. Spike stayed silent, but knew that he would have to tell her. So he decided that it would be now, so she could understand her life hadn't been wasted, that he had wanted her to have some semblance of normal. He just wished that she had been happy, because it would have erased his own pain and longing.
*Pocket full of posie*
"Pet, I've something to tell you."
She looked back at him, frowning at his serious, brooding look. It was eerily Angel-like, and it almost scared her. She couldn't handle another shock, especially one to do with Spike.
"I've got a soul, kitten. I got it ever since the year I left you. "
Buffy gasped, her eyes huge, tears trickling down unnoticed. He grabbed her frail hand and held it tight while she absorbed the information. Soon she found her bearings and she nodded sadly.
"So much was lost, Spike."
"I know, baby."
"I needed you, even though I could never admit it."
"I know that, too."
Buffy drew in a shaky breath, and he brushed away a silken lock of hair from her forehead. Volumes were communicated with one glance, love and pain and forgiveness and apologies, all of it was said silently. Spike just wished that it didn't have to be right before he lost it all again, before he was plunged into despair once more.
*
"I hate you Spike."
"And I'm all you've got."
*
"I love you, Spike."
Buffy said it softly, and he smiled at her, a smile filed with hate and love and pain and utter desolation. It broke her heart. His eyes were soft and blurry in her thinning vision, but she could see the regret there. It hurt her to know that she had caused it all, that she had been the one to shatter their hearts and cause the rift. But she had been naïve and stubborn. Now she was granted with everything she had wanted, but would never be able to appreciate it, or enjoy it. Her time was coming soon, and he would be lost again.
"I'm so sorry Spike."
"I am too, baby."
They sat together in painful silence, knowing that their minutes were counted. Buffy was seeing black spots at the edge of her vision, and Spike could hear the slowing beat of her heart. It was minutes until all their fire and passion was lost, minutes until love would once again be forgotten, once again denied access. It was cruel and disgusting and it was all too familiar. Their love had been cursed from the start. You see, Buffy and Angel were soul mates, but were never meant to be. Spike was meant to love her, but never meant to have her.
*
"It's over, luv."
"It can't be over because it never even started."
*
"I love you Buffy. I always have, through all these years."
Buffy nodded, and Spike stood up to brush a soft kiss of her lips. She sighed in pleasure, finally happy and purely content. But Spike was in aching pain, although he was helpless to fight it. He couldn't save her this time. Couldn't stop the blackness from taking her form him, this time. She would leave without a trace.
"I danced with you in my dreams, luv. Every night I did, and every night to come I will. My heart will be yours forever, Buffy. Forever and ever, until I meet you again someday. Never doubt that I'll come for you."
Buffy smiled, shutting her eyes for the last time, imprinting his face on her memory, tattooing him to her mind. Her breathing slowed, and a lone tear escaped from Spike's pained eyes.
**There's a chair in my head, in which I used to sit, Took a pencil and I wrote, my most private thoughts on it.**
A life full of lies. A life that could have been joyful and happy, but was instead built upon denial and hate. All because of me. All because of destiny. Slayer and Vampire. Lovers and enemies. We hate each other, and we love each other. We fought and we made love, yet it wasn't enough for me. And now, when it finally is, I can't accept it.
With a final whisper of "Good-bye Spike. I've always loved you," she was gone. In a whoosh of tears and a silent scream of death she left him, slipped out of his fingertips, and he died too. He let go of her hand and shook his head, wishing that it wasn't true. Her youthful eyes haunted him, that smile that he had loved, her shiny hair glinting in the moonlight. All gone. All gone.
* "Leave, Spike."
"I could leave, but then where would you be?"
*
*
"You're a monster. You kill and cause pain. Nothing more."
"But you're the one who loves me."
*
*
"Why do you hurt me, Spike?"
"I hurt you because I love you."
*
Spike stood in the death room alone, beside her bed. His mind was spinning, his heart felt like it was beating right through his chest, his soul as though it was being ripped out of him. He couldn't take it, didn't want too, didn't want the pain and anguish. Putting pale hands to his blonde head, he fell to his knees.
Slayer. Graveyard, fighting. Fighting me. Fucking me. You're a demon. Blonde hair in the moonlight. So bloody beautiful. Crypt. Bronze. Witch. Spell, and we're getting married. I love you. Hates me. Hot and fiery. She's dead. Didn't save her. Sister likes me. Dawn. Beneath her. Sunset. Stakes and holy water. Hell gods and werewolves. All I want is to love you.
~*~*
With a final cry, the lean blonde vampire pulled a sharp wooden stake out of his duster pocket, and he plunged it into his chest, straight into his dead heart. With one last anguished look to the dead women on the bed, he whispered, "I love you, Slayer." And then he crumbled into a million pieces, his blue eyes the last to turn to dust. With a clatter the stake fell to the floor, and it was all silent, except for one haunting whisper.
*Ashes, ashes, we all fall down*
~FINIS~