A Future Awry

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy or Spike or any part of what has come to be known as the Whedon-verse. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own it. No one said I can't play with it though.

The chapter title "Please Don't Leave Me" and its included lyrics are borrowed from the song by Pink by the same name.

Chapter Six: Please Don't Leave Me

Buffy sat at a breakfast nook in someone's house nursing a hangover. The kind she wasn't supposed to get, being a vampire and all. She stared dubiously at the crystal goblet that sat in front of her, its crimson contents beckoning her. A pale hand reached out and wrapped itself around the crystal stem, dragging the glass towards her. It was human. She could tell by the smell; by the way it made her fangs itch and her mouth water. She closed her eyes and tossed back the contents of the glass. Five weeks ago she would have refused to let human blood pass through her lips. Five weeks had never felt like such a long time.

"Buffy!" A shrill voice cried behind her, enough to set off another headache, except that the blood was already coursing through her system, making her feel… unbelievable. Which was why she kept drinking the stuff. Then enough champagne to make her forget that she was becoming everything she'd once hated. A vampire, drinking human blood, feeding from a willing victim. Ah yes, that was why she had a hangover. For a vampire, drinking enough that you forget your first live feed is… well, nearly impossible. Buffy had managed. For a few hours.

"Buffy! Aren't you going to bed?"

"I've already been asleep."

She could hear whoever was behind her, Tasha, or Tina, or something-with-a-t, frowning behind her. "Vampires are supposed to sleep all day. Not just until," a pause, probably checking the time, "9 am. What did you get? Like two hours?"

"Three." Buffy played the with stem of the blood-stained glass. "But I feel fine now."

"Uh huh. Well, fine, have it your way." A second pause. "By the way, Luke is looking for you. Said to tell you he had a great time the other night. Was wondering why he didn't see you around last night."

Buffy sat stock still as her host left the room before she let her head collapse into her hands. Luke. Dinner Luke. As in, was dinner, Luke. She felt nauseous. She pawed her way through the stack of glossy fashion magazines and gossip rags that littered the table. She let her hand settle on this month's copy of People. Time to see what all her new "friends" were up to. It wasn't that she didn't want to go home. To see Rebecca. To go back to their company. It was just that… for the first time in a long time she had felt accepted. Not since her pre-Slayer days had she felt this way. Part of the cool crowd, glamorous and wanted and loved. And the hot guys drooling all over her? That had been nice. And then Luke. And then… but that had ended badly, hadn't it? Neck meet fangs. Fangs meet neck.

Buffy shivered. It wasn't even as if she had attacked him. He'd asked her to do it. His earnest eyes and Southern drawl drawing her in, talking her into exploring all that she was. How was he supposed to know she was going to hate herself for it later? Hate that she was always, ever after, going to want it again, even as the thought made her cringe, made her feel sick, made her feel like she had finally hit bottom. Made her feel like Giles hadn't been wrong… she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Buffy, you need to drink." Rebecca's voice was soft, pleading. "Please?"

"I'm a monster. And I'm not drinking that." She sat curled into a ball on her sofa. "Why do you even care? It's not like I'm your problem."

"But you kinda are, sweetie." The demon set the mug down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch, just far enough that the sparks she constantly shed wouldn't reach Buffy's cool skin. "See, I lost the stone. And I'm the reason you rushed off to grab it, however inadvertently. And…" the demon fell silent.

"And?" Buffy prompted.

"And in some ways you remind me of me." Rebecca admitted. "You're a demon, but not completely. You lost the one you loved enough to cause the change. You… you don't have anyone else."

Buffy frowned petulantly, "I do have someone else. I have multiple someones. I'm just… not ready to tell them about this yet."

Rebecca smiled sadly at her, sparks flying from the corners of her dark blue-tinted lips. "Whatever you say, sweetie. But please, drink. If you don't… you'll waste away long before you figure out how to tell them anything."

Buffy grudgingly reached for the mug, just as her doorbell rang. Buffy's gaze whipped to the front door, just a few feet form where she sat. "Who… why…" she sputtered.

"Should I…" the demon trailed off as Buffy stood slowly, drawn towards the door as if by magic.

"Yeah." Buffy said softly. "It's my Watcher."

"I'll be in the spare room, sweetie." Rebecca murmured as she closed the door to the spare bedroom behind her.

"Giles?" She whispered, as she opened her front door. "What brings you all the way out here?" She was aiming for bright and chipper, but her voice instead came out soft and beseeching.

"Buffy!" he announced, wrapping his arms around her in a hug that Buffy could only return awkwardly, "I realized it has been several months since any of us last checked in and I wanted to see if you had had about enough of the calm life for a time." He paused as he pulled away, "My goodness, Buffy, you are looking pale. Are you getting out enough?"

Buffy smiled helplessly. "That's something I kinda need to talk to you about, Giles," she trailed off as he strode into the apartment, setting down a suitcase just inches from where her untouched mug sat on the coffee table.

"Oh, are you having some tea?" he began, his eyes falling on the mug, his voice dropping as he took in the colour of its contents. "Buffy," he began slowly, "Why is there a mug of blood on your table?"

"Well that's what I need to…" Buffy was cut off by a sudden crash in the guest room.

Giles, ever alert, started towards the guest room door. "Buffy, you needn't hide…" he opened the door. And gasped. Rebecca stared back at him with her flashing yellow eyes, sparks jumping from her black skin. She gave him a small wave. "Buffy!" Giles exclaimed, "You have an intruder!" Seemingly out of nowhere, he pulled out a dagger and seemed about to rush the demon, when Buffy felt herself leap into action, her reflexes doubly quick with her vampiric boost.

"No!" She cried, landing in a crouch between Rebecca and her Watcher. She stared up at him, a growl on her lips, even as she realized her failure (not so unusual) to keep her composure.

"Buffy," his gasp was heart-wrenching. And Buffy realized in an instant just how things looked. Her fangs pricked at her lower lips and she could feel the ridges in her forehead. And she was defending a demon.

She straightened sheepishly, "Sorry… I… still working on the controlling… thing…" she gazed at Giles, tears in her eyes even as she failed to shake her game face.

"Oh Buffy," his eyes were glistening, as he clasped his hands before him, his face a portrait of heartbreak. "I've failed you," he whispered.

"No, no," Buffy hurried to add, "It's really not like that. It's not even so bad…" She struggled so hard to get out the words; he needed to know she had a soul. This was important. But when he looked at her like that… like his world had ended…

He opened his arms and Buffy immediately hugged him tightly. "Please, Giles, it's not…"

"I'm so sorry, Buffy," he murmured into her shoulder.

Suddenly it was Rebecca's voice, a soft electronica cry, that accompanied widened eyes. "No!" She reached out to push Buffy out of the way and instead tackled Giles head on, her body almost invisible behind the surge of electricity that radiated outwards, as Buffy crumpled to the floor gasping.

"Giles," Buffy whispered hoarsely, even as her hands fluttered around her chest. "Is he ok?" She asked Rebecca, who stared between the still figure of the man and the collapsed and bleeding figure of her adopted project.

"He staked you." The statement was almost lyrical when spoken by her.

"He tried," Buffy nodded, a sob wracking her body, "Please tell me he's ok."

"He's out," Rebecca observed, "But he's breathing. Just an electric shock." She shook her head with frightened awe. "And you…"

"Just help me get this out," the blonde murmured as she stood slowly and stumbled to Rebecca's side. "He missed my heart by a mile. He was crying… his hand shook…" she trailed off, her eyes focused on his still form. "We're going to have to leave before he wakes up."

He had never followed her. She had never heard from Willow or Xander. Or any of the Potentials-turned-Slayers she had trained. She had called Slayer HQ and Faith had answered. Her usual snark losing its venom and vigour as soon as she heard Buffy's voice on the line. "Don't bother, B," Her voice was hard, but emptier than Buffy remembered, as if her heart wasn't in this attack, "Giles told us how you attacked him. Just stick with the invisibility and we won't come after you." The dial tone summed up the message. Only Dawn had never abandoned her.

No one had ever even tried to hear her end of the story. No one had stopped by. She couldn't blame them. She would have done the same. She grabbed the magazine and wandered through the mansion she was staying at this weekend. Settling into a cozy leather armchair, music softly wafting in on the air, Buffy let the magazine flop open where it would.

I don't know if I can yell any louder
How many time I've kicked you outta here?
Or said something insulting?

Listlessly she flipped through pages outlining this month's hot colour and the latest Hollywood flirtation. She hummed along to the radio, absentmindedly.

I can be so mean when I wanna be
I am capable of really anything
I can cut you into pieces
But my heart is broken

"I'm so bloody bored," she murmured between verses, ignoring her slip. She tried so hard, especially these days, not to think of him; not to use his words. Knowing that she'd been in the limelight for weeks, and he'd never tried to find her. Even though she obviously knew he was alive now. It made her itch to punch his nose. He deserved it this time.

How did I become so obnoxious?
What is it with you that makes me act like this?
I've never been this nasty

She was just about ready to toss the magazine away, her frustration rising as she struggled to ignore the fact that she was still upset about Spike, even after all these years. And then she turned the page. And he was staring up at her. And it felt like a punch to her stomach. His perfect smirk, the tiny scar cutting across his eyebrow, the cheekbones that looked sharpest in the shadows.


Can't you tell that this is all just a contest?
The one that wins will be the one that hits the hardest
But baby I don't mean it
I mean it, I promise

Without intention, her fingers were tracing his features. Had it really been nearly a decade since she had seen his face? Touched it? All because he couldn't be bothered to let her know that he was alive… The words of the song on the radio washed over her as the person listening to it in the other room turned the volume up.


I forgot to say out loud how beautiful you really are to me
I cannot be without, you're my perfect little punching bag
And I need you, I'm sorry

"Oh god," Buffy whispered softly, her head falling into her hands as she curled into a tightened ball. "What did I do?" Images of every interview, every photograph, every man she'd smiled at, every image captured on film. She'd gone and repeated the past. By all appearances, she didn't need him. Why would he have come to find her? He probably hated her.

And his picture stared up at her, his smirk immortalized on film, sold on newsstands. Property of anyone in the USA. And suddenly the ache inside of her reached its crescendo and the sobs ripped their way straight from her soul. He was the one she had needed, wanted, missed, all these years. Why had she wanted revenge when she saw him? Why not just go to him and confront him? And now… now she was more broken then she ever had been alive. What was there even left of her to want at this point? She stifled a sob as the song came to its end.


Baby, please, please don't leave me