Spike takes a step forward, moving further into the light of the cellar. Buffy takes a step back
"Spike?"
He shakes his head. The yellow in his eyes deepens, glinting like two pieces of catseye.
"Where's William?"
William's busy.
His lips move but something about his voice seems to bypass her ears completely, setting up home in an uncomfortably low point of her spine. She hardens her jaw, hand balling into a fist.
"Did you kill him?"
A low chuckle escapes past the fangs in his mouth.
I'm not in the business of cutting off pieces of myself.
He moves fully into the light, the harsh brightness casting the ridges of his brow into sharp contrast.
"I saw what you did to him."
He did it to himself.
Buffy eyes the benches that line the wall. There's pieces of broken furniture that would do in a pinch but whatever is standing in front of her would block her path before she could reach it.
"You're lying."
He's trying to tear us down the middle. Got a little bit of a spark and thought he could set us on fire with it. But it's burning us both.
Buffy moves a little closer to the bench, but he doesn't move to intercept her, just watches carefully.
"What are you really?"
...I'm the third.
"The third? Third what?"
The third piece.
"Of Spike?"
The son.
"And William?"
Our Holy Ghost. Of sorts.
His lips pull back in a sneer, showing teeth as sharp as scalpels. The dim light in the cellar buries his eyes almost in shadow, etching his features into a cackling skull. He moves towards her, suddenly closer than she expected, gripping her forearms in his hands, bringing his face closer to hers. Out of reflex she pulls out and punches him hard in the mouth, following it with a second. He doesn't flinch, only grins, taking another punch to the eye. She kicks him hard into the pillar and his legs buckle underneath him, blood oozing from a cut on his lip.
"Go back where you came from."
It's too late for that.
She closes the distances and lands another punch to his face, swelling an eye shut with the blow.
"Go. Back."
It's too late. We're breaking apart.
"What do you mean breaking apart?"
The spark can't settle like this. He wipes the blood off his lip, smearing it further down his chin. To want only half of something... it won't settle.
"Enough riddles. Say whatever it is you're trying to say."
He grips her wrist then, leaving smears of blood on her skin.
It's all or nothing, Buffy.
She tries to pull her wrist back but he's holding tight.
Love isn't something you do by halves, pet. You can't chose the pieces you want, and caste out the pieces you don't.
"Don't call me Pet. I'm not your pet, whatever the hell you are."
But you are his?
She twists her wrist out of his grasp and steps back away from him. Watches as he struggles up against the pillar.
He steps into the light and it catches the yellow in his eyes, shining like fire.
You wanted a man with a bit of darkness in him. Don't you understand what that means?
"That's not what I want."
Lies get us nowhere, Buffy. You're drawn to me, as I am to you. To deny it now will only prolong William's suffering. And he is suffering.
Buffy grips him by the throat and squeezes, slamming him back hard into the pillar.
"That makes it very simple for me. You're hurting him, I hurt you."
You're already hurting us plenty, luv.
There's an honestly to his voice that breaks her resolve just a little. Even with his demon on show there's a softness in his eyes. Something pleading with her. She loosens her grip on his neck but doesn't take her hand away.
"Say I believe you. Say if after everything I saw you do I believe you, and trust me when I say that's a very big if. Tell me how I stop it."
It's all... or nothing. Love the man, love his soul... and love the monster.
Buffy's eyes widen as comprehension dawns, she snatches her hand away from him like she's been burned.
"I could never-" she trips over the hurt in his eyes. Dangerous eyes. Eyes she thought could only be full of hate. Eyes of a killer. "You're a monster. I can't love that."
We're all monsters in some way, sweetheart. You think just because you don't change on the outside that it's not there inside you. I've seen your wrath, and your rage. So what's different, here and now? Who's really a monster; the animal struggling to change it's nature for love, or the Slayer who beats it down for trying?
"What you did to William... you tore him to pieces... I saw it. All of it. I can't-"
And he's burning me to death. It's agony. I can hear it, the fire, it's raging inside me. Burning everything, pulling me apart.
He reaches for her hand but she backs away. He snatches her wrist, pulling her towards him.
"Dont- don't touch me!" She tries to yank her arm out of his grasp but he holds on, lifting her hand up to his face. "Stop it!" He brushes her fingers over the ridge of his forehead, forcing her fingers over the scar in his eyebrow. With his demon on show the scar elongates, a long ripple up and over his brow. She stops struggling, meeting his eye. He moves her fingers down to his chest, pushing her fingers down into the puncture wound over his heart.
I might be a monster, but I'm him too, Buffy. I was there with you when your mother was sick. When Dawn needed me I kept her safe. If you say I can't have you the way they do I'll still be there for her. I'll still be here for you. That won't change, even if I'm only a monster in your eyes. You've fractured us into pieces but it changes nothing.
Buffy's heart skips for a second, pulling her mind back away from the memories of her mother, but it's too late. They burn like smoke in her eyes, shutting her throat. Tears well up, unbidden. But what catches her off guard is the need, desperate need, to see Spike's face. Kind blue eyes helping her fight this feeling. The yellow of his demon's eyes makes a mockery of the blue of his. Like small shards of sky...
"Change your face."
He shakes his head.
Not this time. No more hiding, Buffy. No more denial.
"Please... Please change. I need him."
"I'm here with you." His voice changes, smoothing out, but his face doesn't. "It's just one piece," he moves her hands up onto his face, "let go of the shame and accept it."
She tries to pull her hands away but he's holding her firmly by the wrist.
"Let me go... please just let me go..." the tears break and she starts sobbing great heaving sobs, fat thick tears rolling down her cheeks. "Spike please... please..." She's crying so hard the sound stops coming and it's just a awful shaking silence. Her legs go out from underneath her, and Spike gets an arm around her side lowering them both onto the floor. He pulls her into him and she heaves great hiccuping gulps against him, slumping across his legs. He moves his arms under hers and pulls her up, holding her against him, stroking her back as she gasps through her tears.
"Hurts... it hurts so much... it hurts so much."
"I know. I know it does."
"I should've saved her... it was my fault... I couldn't- couldn't save her... I tried and it was too late... my fault..." He crushes her against him, rocking her back and forth.
"You know that's not true, luv. Its just the grief talking."
"Want her back so bad... I didn't know it could hurt like this..."
God, don't I know it. I won't tell you it'll hurt forever. It never stops hurting, pet.
He bites back his own tears, propping her up with his legs so she doesn't have to hold herself up, cradling her like a doll.
After a long time her heaving coughing gulps turn to weeping, then to silence. They sit on the floor holding onto each other, arms around waists. Her head hasn't moved from his shoulder and he feels her breathing start to slow down, still shivering from the tears, but levelling out.
When he feels like she's settled he lowers her down off his shoulder, holding her up against his legs. Her face has turned pale, and the skin on her cheeks looks sore from the tears. He wipes the last of them out from under her eyes. She sighs deeply.
"Tired girl."
She closes her eyes and nods, letting him cup her face in his hand, pulling away a strand of hair that's matted to her skin.
He pulls her into his lap, holding her by the back and legs and stands up from the floor like she weighs nothing. As he carries her up the stairs out of the cellar he can feel her start to soften against him, tense muscles letting go a little at a time. She rests her head against his shoulder and he hugs her tighter.
In her bedroom he sets her down just inside the door but doesn't move further in. She furrows her brow in an unasked question.
"I don't want to presume. I know I'm still a monster to you. Must be hard to distance yourself from that when I look like this."
She stands to one side, the dark of the hallway blending with the dark of her bedroom, lit only by the faint glow coming from the streetlight outside.
"I'm inviting you in."
His heart lurches a little. She doesn't take her eyes away from his face.
He moves inside, closing the door behind them.
She steps out of her jeans but leaves her tshirt on and slips in between the covers of the bed, leaving room for him. He pulls his shirt off and over his head, feeling the dampness on the fabric from her tears graze his face. He keeps his jeans on and slips in beside her, settling down next to her, careful not to touch her.
She rolls onto her side so she's facing him. She traces the mountainous ridges of his brow with her fingers, feeling the hard skin beneath them. Her fingers move down his cheek, caressing his lips with her thumb. She gently pushes his top lip up a little exposing his fangs, and runs the tip of her thumb across them. It's like running a knife across her skin, they're so sharp. One wrong move and her skin would rip open on the blade-like edges of his teeth.
"Are you going to bite?" She asks, half joking, but not fully.
He shakes his head carefully, pulling back a little from her fingers.
"Not with this set, luv. I'll bite you with my blunt teeth the way you like it, but hurting you like that would hurt me too much. I can't bear it."
She's still for a while.
"Will you be like this in the morning?"
"No. I'm just a nighttime visitor."
"Every night?"
"I don't know."
Headlights from a car passing outside briefly light up the room and Buffy winces at the yellowness of his eyes, the shine on his teeth.
What am I doing? I've gone out of my mind.
He sees it in her face and pulls back further away from her, a momentary flash of agony passing through his features.
Can a monster really hurt like that? That look... is real, isn't it? It's not a trap, no one's that good an actor. He might be a monster but he's built differently from the rest of them. Those words... standing on heartbreak... living every day with that. No one in that much pain could really be soulless surely...
She moves closer to him, breathing him in. She levers herself up on an elbow so she's staring down at him.
"If I..." she trails off, running a thumb across his bottom lip. "If I...," he pulls her hand away from his mouth, raises his head to hers and incredibly carefully kisses her, a soft cautious kiss. He feels her try and press into it harder and pulls back away from it so his fangs don't cut her lips, keeping it gentle, barely there at all.
He pulls her down next to him, rolling her into his embrace. He feels her hips come up to meet him a little and he stills them with a hand, breaking the kiss.
"Go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll be here properly in the morning."
She sighs a little, then curls up into him, hand still on his cheek, index finger running across his ridges.
"...Are you here with me?"
"Yes," he moves his head to kiss her wrist, holding her in his arms, "always."