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Basics: Buffy died and came back. Basically season 6 plot, but ya know…not. Spike's fucking Buffy, but he's not in it for the love. Dawn knows about the sex. She's also been messing around with drugs, cutting, and sex.
Chapter 8
"Now, you're going to shut the fuck up" he stated to hush her stupid words. He held his hands up and backed away.
"And you're going to answer every bloody question I ask."
Her body trembled as she stared at Matt, unconscious and bloody. His pants were now down around his knees. She felt sorry for him. Why did Spike have to be so god damn stupid!
Who the hell does he think he is, she thinks. He wasn't her protector, not anymore. Not since before Buffy died. After she died he forgot her and wallowed in his own pain. Not that he should have just forgotten about himself and pay attention to her, but a nice "It's not your fault" lie would have been nice. But that was a before-Spike thing.
She almost laughed at what she was saying. It's how they tell time now, she thought. Before Buffy's death. After Buffy's death. During Buffy's death. It seemed like time didn't have any meaning anymore. That just these occurrences in time soaked it all up; it all concentrated on the slayer. So days flew by after Buffy came back, which contrasted how time stood still before she came back. But no one really talked about before she died. So before-Spike was prohibited in the Scoobie ear distance.
She shook her head, trying to get the off handed thoughts out of her brain. She looked at Spike, who stared straight at her. His eyes were stale and hard, narrowed at her in disgust.
"Yes" she asked, hardening herself. He didn't have the right to do this. He had no fucking right. He lost it the first time he touched her sister.
And he's burning her through. But she's giving the same intensive look at him. It makes him falter a bit, but he doesn't let on. She looks like she has something on him. Like she's got black mail and it's hanging over his head. Though her eyes cold and hard, he noticed how they were too light and too cloudy and too dilated.
"What are you on" he asks, his voice forceful. She gave him a quirk of the lips and her eyes twinkled a bit.
"None of your fucking business" she comments while walking away. Her voice wasn't as cold as her eyes; it almost held a challenging note to it. Her ass swayed as she walked, her boot heels clicking. He was almost hypnotized by the sound, but quickly got over it and caught up with her.
He grabbed her lower arm, twirling her around straight into his chest. She let out a little groan of pain as he manhandled the mysterious five-inch cuts that were on her arm. She took her arm out of his possession, placing it back by her side.
"Don't you touch me" she said. Clean. Cut. Precise. Just like her cuts.
"I can do whatever I damned well pleased." His face was smug. A smirk graced his lips and Dawn wish she had enough strength to wipe it right off of him.
He took his hand and slapped her across the face, proving that he, in fact, could do whatever he wanted. He grinned his teeth together as he felt the aftershock of the chip. Dawn's cheek was bright red and it contrasted greatly with her pale, sickly skin. She didn't move or comfort her cheek. She stood icily still as she looked at him with hallowed eyes.
He didn't like that she wasn't affected. He decided to rile her up.
"Surprised the chip even went off. Thought it didn't work on the dead."
She didn't blink. Didn't stumble. Didn't have a look of shock on her face. She didn't even take in a breath. She kept staring at him.
He shifted under her glance, not liking the way she was glaring at him. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be yelling and screaming and telling her how stupid she was for doing something so outrageous. But she had somehow turned the tables. She had the upper hand. And it idly hit his brain that she always had the upper hand. Ever since Buffy died and came back.
He wondered how it happened. How it really got that far. How she got so old in a matter of months. She had everything in her control. She knew how to push buttons. And she just tapped his.
She saw his working brain and walked away. Because it was all about not wanting to get fixed now. She got too far off her blood and chemicals to just be stopped by a pathetic, neutered vampire. If she got caught, everything would come pouring down. There would be no more long nights with Matt, no more smoking a bowl on the roof, no more razors to her skin, and especially, no more skipping school.
But he chased after her once she got to the main road. He was tired of this. She was always running and he was always going after her. What happened if he wasn't chasing her? What would she have then?
Peace?
Death?
"Why didn't you tell me" his voice was strangled because he knew he had lost. He had lost long ago, but he just never knew it.
"Tell you what" Her voice cracked as if she hadn't talked in a long time. If she played stupid, it would be easier. She could easily dismiss all the facts that made her dirty and poisoned.
"Everything. Bloody everything." And he steps in front of her, not leaving her an inch to escape.
"You're stupid. Did you know that? Do you fucking know that" he screamed, his brokenness placed behind him. "You're human Dawn. You're not soddin' invincible." And he was doing exactly what he wanted to do. He was screaming at her, telling her how it's wrong, why it's bad. Telling her that life is fucking precious and why can't we all just get along. Because he was the prince of fucking morality now.
"I'm not exactly human now, am I" she said as she imagined being green and swirly and floating and air and not knowing anything, but knowing everything because she was older than life itself. Because she was older than him.
She could kill better than him. Because she could kill her sister.
"That's not the point and you know it. You can't play God. What you did-have done..."
And she breathes. In and out. In and out. Because that's all she can do. Because she listens to his words and they play on her like never before. Because they actually mean something. But not enough. She feels a burning in her stomach and her body goes numb, but nothing more. And it makes her feel even more defected. Because even though Spike's yelling at her for being such a failure, she feels nothing.
She wonders if this is really happening. And it's the first time she ever thinks that maybe she died on that tower that night and this was just her hell. Because people like her didn't go to heaven. She was too dirty for a place like that. Though said death is the only water that can wash away these sins, those sins didn't even compare to hers.
"And if you want to fuck up, then do it on your own bloody time." And she notices that she missed everything he was saying. But it didn't really matter since his words didn't do a thing to her in the first place. But the fuck-up stung and hit her in the chest, just enough for her heart to skip one beat.
And he heard it.
And he takes his fingers and, with feather light pressure, stroked her hand. Sliding his hand underneath her shirt sleeve, he pushed it gradually up to above her elbow. Her breath catches in her throat and she can't breathe at all. This is too much for her. Too exposing. Sure, words didn't hurt because they were just words. They didn't mean anything. But actions did. And besides, no one has ever seen her scars. This was a big deal.
He takes in air as he sees them. All the scars. The old cuts. The new. And he cradles the arm in his hand, and slowly peels back the make shift bandage that she applied earlier. Blood had seeped through and soiled the gauze, which was probably from him grabbing her. His dead heart hurts when he sees the five-inch long wound. He takes his finger and traces the outside of it. The motion causes her to stiffen and tense.
And she closes down once again.
"Oh Dawn."
So, there is chapter 8. Probably only a couple more chapters to go. I have to discuss everything that's been going on with Dawn, her resentment towards Spike about his and Buffy's sexcapades. And also do that Used song. And I was going to do it in a suicide scene, but the whole sucidie just didn't make sense. So now I have to work it all in, but it's all good.
I hope you liked this chapter for it was very, very hard to work on. Reviews are loved, by the way.
Oh, I wrote a cute little Spawn fliclet called The Taste of Ink and it's all based on that song by The Used.Just thought I should keep all the spawn-lovers updated.
Thanks again for all the wonderfully nice reviews.
