Take your time
I'm not scared.
Make me everything you need me to be
So the judgment seems fair.
Don't waste your time
~Evanescence, Made of Stone~

Days later, he was almost completely healed. His physical wounds, mind. His mental ones would never heal. But, they could be masked.

He had spent most of those last days drinking himself into a stupor, trying to fill the hole in his heart that Buffy left. In all those days, she hadn't shown up once. Figures, he mentally scoffed, that she wouldn't show unless I had somethin' she wanted. Well, he was done with her. Completely, and totally done. And he wouldn't cave, no matter how many times he wanted to. No matter how much his heart yearned for her touch. He wouldn't give in. And if she ever came back to him for some cold comfort? Well, he'd turn her down! He refused to be her whipping boy any longer.

His strength was tested greatly on her birthday. He wanted more than anything to go to her, to see her, but he persisted, and stayed in his crypt, having to physically lock himself to the wall to stop from going to her. But he made it through, and as he stood today, three days after her birthday, and almost two weeks after the incident in the alley, he felt proud of himself. He was finally his own Vamp, no woman to tie him down. And who knew? Maybe he'd eventually leave Sunnydale for good, shutting the door on this life. Sure, he'd never be able to feed again, what with the chip and all, but he could live on his own, fighting demons. Maybe he'd even go down to LA, and annoy the Poof some. He smiled lightly at that thought.

Just then, his door was knocked down, an irate Slayer marching inside, the sunlight shining inside the crypt almost burning him.

"Hey!" He shouted.

She just marched up to him, and kissed him squarely on the lips, pushing him roughly against the wall, her hands slipping up his shirt. He automatically kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

A few moments passed, where she had managed to take his shirt off, before he came to his senses, and pushed her back, panting unnecessarily, glaring at her slightly. She just looked back at him with angry, slightly confused eyes. Oh, didn't expect me to push you away, now did ya? He thought, mentally snorting.

"Got an itch ya need scratched, do ya Slayer?" He asked bitterly, glaring at her still.

"What? What are you talking about?" She asked, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"Get out." He said coldly.

"What?!" She exclaimed, confused.

He scoffed. "What, you think I'll just be here every time you want? Well, hate to say it to ya Slayer, but that's not how it works anymore. I'm through being your whippin' boy."

"Spike, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm sayin', you no longer control me. An' I want you gone. I realized something, when you left me for dust in that alley. I realized you didn' care, not one bit. Otherwise, you'd see if I was alright, wouldn't ya? But you didn'. You left me to care for myself. Didn' care if I'd dust when the sun rose, or if I was okay from the beatin' you gave me. Ya just didn' care. And ya know what?" He paused slightly, glaring fully at the perplexed slayer, "I find I just don' care either. Goodbye Buffy. You can find your own way out." With that, he turned, and went down to the lower level of his crypt, leaving the confused Slayer to herself.

What the hell just happened? She thought, as she left the crypt, feeling dazed. Had Spike just… turned her down? Could he do that? There she was, wanting to relieve the tension she'd felt ever since Riley came back with his perfect wife, Sam, and he'd turned her down. Huh.

It took her several minutes of walking aimlessly for it to finally sink in. Spike had just turned her down! That-that didn't happen! He didn't reject her, she rejected him! He couldn't just reject her, he loved her! Right?

The more she thought, the angrier she got. He turned her down. She just couldn't believe it. He'll be back. She thought. Spike always was incredibly weak, especially when it came to her. He'll be crawling back, just you see. And when he does, we'll see if I forgive him. I may just make him grovel for a while. She thought wickedly, grinning lightly. Oh, this'd be fun.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

It didn't work out like that. It was weeks later, after stint as a 'normal girl' in an asylum, that she finally realized he wasn't coming back. And, to her horror, she found herself missing him. She, missing him! It's official, the world has gone insane. First Spike rejected her, and now she missed him. What's next Giles decides to stop reading, and run off to be a circus clown?

So that was how she found herself storming through Restfield cemetery, ready to give that idiotic vampire a piece of her mind.

As she kicked the door in, she was overcome with nostalgia, making her even angrier. She shouldn't be nostalgic! She shook her head, and stormed into the crypt, not seeing Spike in the upper level, and so she dropped down to the lower level, and marched up to the bed, yanking back the covers, revealing a naked Spike, whose blue eyes had just opened, and were now set blearily on her. Blushing, she took a step back, and stammered an apology, forgetting her anger for a second.

An annoyed look on his face, he picked up his pants, and put them on, glaring at her.

"What the hell do you want?" He asked, his voice gravely from sleep.

That reignited her anger, and so she spat at him, "You've been avoiding me."

"Just realizin' this luv? So clear my presence in your life has made a big impact." He said bitterly.

"You don't get to do that! You don't get to just ignore me, as if you're better than me!"

"Is that right? Well, that's jus' too bad, since I am."

He felt a fist connect with his nose, breaking it once again. Growling, he pushed her against his wall, his game face coming out to play.

"You wanna do that again? Beat me, until I can't even stand? Until I'm layin', bleedin' on the ground?" He spit bitterly at her, his golden eyes filled with hatred, making her shiver lightly in fear. She'd never been afraid of him before, but right now, he looked ready to kill her. And with her "molecular suntan", he could. But she pushed back that ridiculous fear. She was the Slayer, and if he tried anything, she'd just finally stake him. She ignored the empty feeling she got at that thought, and just glared at him.

"Do you even feel bad for it? Or does it just not matter to you? Just like everything else that has to do with me."

"Why would I feel bad for it? It's not like you matter. You're just a thing." She spat at him automatically, caught up in her anger. She nearly missed the wounded look on his face, but she saw it just as he turned his face away. He pushed himself away from her, his back shaking lightly in what looked like either repressed anger, or repressed sobs.

"Then get out. If I mean so little to you, jus' leave me alone." He whispered in a broken voice. As he turned to face her, she was shocked to see it was the latter. She instantly felt horrible, having been the one to make this once proud vampire break down in tears. She took a step towards him.

"Spike…" She began hesitantly, before he interrupted her.

"What? Shocked to see the soulless, evil vampire in tears? Shocked that I actually have feelings for you to hurt? Well, let me tell you, I have feelings. And all you've ever done is hurt them. You step all over me, you always have. An' I'm sick of it. You wanted me to try harder to not love you? Well, congratu-fucking-lations. You got your wish. I don't love you anymore." He said in his broken, bitter voice, before turning away from her.

She just stared at his back in shock.

"Spike…" She tried, but jumped in shock when a half full bottle of something flew past her head, staring as Spike turned back to face her, his face vamped out, and furious.

"Get the fucking hell out!" He roared, and she had no other choice but to do as he said. And as she did, one thought resonated in her head.

He's not going to come crawling back.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

As soon as she left, he sat back down on the bed, and put his head in his hands. How many times would she stomp on his heart? No matter what he said, he still loved her, but with the help of Mister Daniels, that love was slowly diminishing.

But that didn't make it hurt less. Nor did it stop the embarrassment of having been caught crying. He was a sodding Master Vampire for Christ's sake! He shouldn't be crying in front of anyone, least of all Buffy.

The one good thing about her visit was that it cemented in his mind his reasoning for giving up on her. She wouldn't love him. It was delusional of him to think otherwise. It may make his heart hurt, but this was for the better. It'd save him heartache in the future. Getting up, he put on his shirt, and started to pack all his belongings in a bag. He couldn't stay here, not if he wanted to move on. He needed a clean slate, and to get that, he had to leave. Everywhere he went reminded him of her, and that just wouldn't do. So, slinging his full bag over his shoulder, he took one final look around the crypt that had been his home for the past three years, and said a final goodbye.

Once outside, he took a deep, unneeded breath. He could go anywhere he wanted. Away from Buffy and her crew. Not a one he'd miss. Well, except the Bit, she was one of the only ones who treated him kindly. He'd miss her. On the walk to his car, he debated whether he should say goodbye to her, but ultimately decided against it. Knowing her, she'd make him decide not to leave after all, and he needed this.

Inside his Desoto, he wondered where he should go, before deciding on LA to bug Peaches. That'd be fun. And so, putting the keys into the ignition, he pulled away, and headed off to LA, to start his unlife anew. Where he'd go after he got bored of LA, he wasn't sure. Maybe he'd seek out this demon he'd heard of, that could grant wishes. Maybe he could get rid of this love he had for the Slayer, once and for all. Well, wherever he went, it beat being here.

As he passed the leaving Sunnydale sign, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. For the first time in a while, he felt free, away from the burden that was unrequited love. Deep inside, he knew that no matter how far away he went, he'd always love her, always crave her as much as he craved blood, but it would weaken with time. He'd always remember her, even when she didn't remember him. And that was alright with him.