Destiny: A Tale of Love and Sorrow

Chapter 14: Never to be Loved

Disclaimer: Hey, how you guys doing? Thanks for your reviews and thanks for your much needed support. Without you guys, this story would remain incomplete in the mind of this naval author. After this story(around 20 chapters), I will finish Slayer: Hybrid or do an AU Season 5, 6, or 7. Not really sure. But it will include lots of Spuffy. Thanks again. And I don't own the characters, sadly. Damn you Joss Whedon.

Giles' House

Willow and Xander arrived after a huge make out session in the bushes. Sadly, that was the important thing that they had to do during the Scooby meeting. The couple were both afraid to express themselves through touch and all they could do was make out. Xander wanted to continue as well as Willow, but both were to scared of rejection to make a move. As they stepped through the threshold of Giles' house, they saw the owner on the floor, passed out, looking like a broken rag doll.

"Damn. We should have been here." Willow said, walking up to the immobile body. "Giles, wake up." She said, a little scared, afraid for the old man's life. He did not move.

Xander walked up to the body. "Giles." He said desperately, now afraid as well. Yet Giles didn't move. Xander gave Giles a good kick to the ribs and Giles coughed, slowly stirring. "Good, we're making progress." Xander said, repeating the tactic with another sharp kick to Giles's ribs. Giles rolled over to the side, clutching his ribs. Before Xander could kick him again, Giles spoke.

"Do that again, and I'm kicking you in the balls Mr. Harris." He exclaimed, wheezing like he just ran the 45 mile marathon after smoking two cartons of cigarettes a day.

"My bad Giles. I just thought you needed a helping…foot, a helping foot." Xander said, and Willow nearly lost her composer. The way he innocently made them laugh without trying or even wanting too. So many things she liked about him. Giles stood to his feet and kicked Xander in the balls, who fell over like a log.

"Hey." Willow said outraged. "You said you wouldn't kick him." She added angrily.

"He kicked me twice in the ribs, I've only kicked him once, I'm saving him another one for later." He said briskly, pushing his glasses up against his face. Xander stood up a couple seconds later, but not recovered, not nearly.

"That was low G. Real low."

"Pretty low, it was underneath the belt." Giles said.

"God it hurts." Xander said, clutching his balls, hoping his hands could heal him like Jesus did to the sick.

"Don't ask me to kiss it. I'm a Brit, but I'm not gay." He said, really defensively.

"And the difference would be exactly?" Xander asked.

"A kick to the balls boy." Giles said, kicking him right in the family jewels.

Xander fell over once again , but this time Giles had extending his hand, not his foot.

"Stop kicking me in the balls you…" Xander was silenced as Giles' foot started coming up again. "It's starting to tickle." He giggled fakely, and Giles was severly tempted, but instead withheld from kicking Xander in the balls.

"What happened?" Willow asked speaking up for once.

"Oh right, Spike came here, beat me and Buffy up and took her away." Xander said. Giles sighed wearily. Lord only knew what trouble the Summers girl could be in out there.

"Thanks for your usefulness Giles." Xander said snarkly.

"You two were the ones who missed out on the meeting cause you were too busy snogging and who knows what else." Giles snapped.

"We were studying." Willow said.

"Studying a book or each other's parts." Giles said boldly.

"That's none of your business Giles." Willow retorted.

"It is my business when my Slayer is about to die cause he best friends were too busy playing doctor!" Giles replied, his full of rage and anger, and with that he grabbed a stake and some holy water and was on his way to find his Slayer and to kill Spike.

The Mansion

With lightning fast speed Spike swung his fist and caught the oncoming vampire in the face. The force of it was so hard, it jerked Darla's neck back. Had she been a human instead of a Master Vampire, her head would of come clean off. Unable to retaliate after that blow, Spike kicked her across the jaw, sending her crashing into a table. Darla stood up, baring her fangs at him and Spike walked up to her, unafraid.

He did not fear anything anymore. There was nothing to fear, except letting Buffy die. That was all he feared, for he loved her more than his unexistence. He hadn't known her that long, but she gave him so much compared to the nothing that he received from Drusilla in a century. Buffy Summers, a.k.a. Slayer was compassionate and caring, yet deadly when she needed to be. She would die for her friends and perhaps that was her greatest weakness. But to Spike, Buffy was a flawless creature, that no man should have for perfection should not be ruined by the likes of an evil, soulless, vampire.

Perhaps that's why he fought hard to defend her as he gave Darla another vicious punch to the face, only to have her return one to him. The force of the blow sent him staggering back, reminiscent of a drunk. She charged at him and tackled him, caving in the wall behind him. He was bruised up on the outside and on the inside. He tried to fight her off, but Spike had pissed her off. She gave him a sharp boot to the mouth. "Come on Spike, we had so much fun." Darla said, ripping off his shirt. She raked her nails down his chest drawing blood.

Buffy was seething wanting nothing more than to stake the unholy bitch, but she was helpless, bounded down by her metal restraints.

Angered at his great grandsire, he retaliated with a foot to her jaw, sending her temporarily away from him. He aimed a hard kick to her head, but she ducked it, grabbing a knife. She feinted and he fell for it, the blade slicing through his abdomen and lodging in his entrails. "Fuck." He managed to get out, his voice weak.

"SPIKE!" Buffy screamed, tears running down her face as she watched him fall to the ground.

Spike stared at his great grandsire, his eyes wide with disbelief. She had bested him again. "No." He moaned, the pain coursing through him like slow venom. I can't believe it, he thought, chastising himself for losing to Darla. It ain't over till I'm bloody dusted…

Darla grabbed a battle axe and held it Spike's face. He was unafraid of death, even though he knew what was coming. He released his vampire visage and looked at Buffy, tears in his eyes. She screamed his name for what seemed an eternity. Darla straddled the weakened vampire, thrusting her sex into him. Blinded by tears and fury he swung at her only to be blocked and punched hard in the face.

"Chill out Spike." Darla said, kissing the blood off his chest.

"Get off me you filthy bitch." He managed to get out.

The hard slap resonated through the room.

"So disrespectful… insolent William. No wonder you were never loved, who could love you, you're beneath everyone, even me." She said, and he was racked with sobs that could not be helped but tear through his throat and lips. How easily she could bring out the worst memories in him. "Nobody wants you Willy. Not even God who you used to love. No one. Not even God can save you." Darla said, punching him and breaking his nose.

Blood squirted out. Yet it didn't hurt, because the hurt he was consumed with hurt more than anything else. He knew she was right, and that's what hurt.

"You didn't even deserve Drusilla, you big sissy. You're such a momma's boy. Do you know how long you cried after dusting that old bitch?" She asked him.

Tears blurred his vision.

"You cried for weeks. You cried so much you couldn't even get it up for Dru." She kicked him hard across the ribs, and she heard Buffy cry in the back. "How much use would you have been for the Slayer Spike. Crying about everything. She can't stand you. She could never love you." Darla said bitterly.

"That's not true." Buffy exclaimed, broken down but the utmost painful agony that had ripped through her heart, and she wasn't the one truly suffering. Spike was. How could she talked to him like that? How could she destroy what was left of his heart?

Her words tore through him, more painful than the purest of souls in his heart. Angel cried a lot about how sorry he was, but nothing was more painful than listen to Darla make fun of him. How carelessly she tossed those words out and destroyed his very being. She had tortured him many nights, but never as painful as this…

London, England

December 1880

He had been forced to stake his mother. His very own mother. The woman that gave birth to him, who allowed him to live life, as pitiful as it was. But he had loved his mother, more than anything, more than God. Especially now that he was a vampire. But all he had wanted was to cure her, make her better so she would never suffer again, and he had fucked up.

He had fucked up just like he had fucked his life. He had allowed the higher ups in society deliver emotional blows that had left him emotionally crippled. And the only person who had been there for him was nothing more than a memory and a swirl of ashes. Because he had fucked up. All he wanted to do was love her forever. She was his mum, and he couldn't think anyone else but Drusilla that he would of liked to spend it with. But it was not meant to be because she was dust now. Memories bounded tight to his mind to remind him of her everyday. His memories were like a mantra, often repeated, so he could marvel at his mother's internal beauty. Before the demon changed her.

The demon had made her come on to him and he had staked her, ramming her cane into her heart as he did to Drusilla, alone in their bedroom. And now she was gone, forever, suffering in hell because he freaked out. Cause he fucked up.

"What are you crying bout now Willy." Darla asked, shoving him out of her way. He scowled and looked away from her.

"Still crying about your mommy? Get over it. You're a vamp, you don't feel, you can't love. So stop trying. You're evil." She said.

He had tried to cover up his ears, and ignore what she said.

"You're mum was an ancient old bitch anyway." She said spitefully, and now he was blinded by tears, grabbing the first thing closest to him; a stake.

"What are you gonna do? Stake me? Like you did to you miserable bitch of a mom?" She asked tauntingly.

He dropped the stake. It was futile. He gave no resistance to her mockery, because he was emotionally crippled, unable to stand up on his feet. Instable as he was, he could not fight back. It was pointless, sod that he was just a fledgeling. But one day, he'd get Darla for saying that about his mum.

Present

He refused to vamp. If he would dust and see the Lord, he wanted God to see him like this, not like some ugly freak. Darla held the axe above him, ready to swing down.

"It didn't have to be like this." Darla said, a sad expression on her face.

"NO." Buffy yelled, unable to do anything.

"And what, let you keep raping me, taking what's not yours." He was nearly screaming, tears hazing his vision like a driver in a rainstorm.

"Didn't you like the head I gave you?" She asked, swing the axe down. Buffy screamed one more time, and it was enough to cause Spike to roll out of the way and grab a sword from her weapons chest. She swung her axe again and he pivoted around her, swinging the katana.

The blade sliced through her neck.

"I don't like head. Bitch." Darla's head fell off and instantly vaporized into dust, swirling around his figure.

Someone tossed Angel's body into the room. Bloodied to a pulp, he remained unconscious. "It's time to begin." Someone said.

The Senior Partners had arrived.

AN: Love the ending to this chapter, especially the irony of Darla's death. Asking Spike if he liked head, and seconds later, losing hers. Nice…. Hey keep up the reviews and Jesus will love you, as well as this navy author.