Chapter Three: Cold Comfort
Disclaimer: I stole music, but only out of deep respect. Something In The Air by David Bowie is most assuredly NOT MINE!!
Spike halted outside Buffy's bedroom door, not knowing whether to go in or not. He leaned against the wall, hearing soft music float from her room. He would be there if she needed him. The music flowed around him, soft and full of pain.
Your coat and hat are gone
I really can't look at your little empty shelf.
A ragged teddy bear
It feels like we never had a chance.
Don't look me in the eye!
The singers voice was ragged, as though he'd been crying. Spike shook his head, wondering where the Slayer had found such a song in the first place. She'd seemed so happy with Riley. What would prompt her to listen to such a sad song in the first place? He stared at her door, willing it to open, willing
himself to go in. Neither happened.
"Fuck this," He muttered, intending on leaving. Spike wondered why he had come in the first place. He wasn't the type to get off on this kind of pain; he preferred physical pain to emotional.
"Yes, I have a thing for her," Spike thought "so why did I have to go hurt her like this? Maybe it would've been better if I just let Harm' keep spreading her rumors. Not many vamps can stand a ghoul much less create one. Riley and that bitch he was feeding off would've been dead in short order. But then, she would have loved him in death. If he dies, she needs to know that he died a monster and not a victim. It would weigh on her too much, otherwise. She always blames herself."
Spike stared at Buffy's bedroom door, listening to the muted sounds of her sobs. He tried again to enter, but found her could not force himself to open the door.
"Bloody hell!" He cursed in his mind. "I did her a favor, but she's never gonna see it that way. I did my part. Time to go home."
We lay in each other's arms
But the room is just an empty space
I guess we lived it out
Something in the air
We smile too fast and we can't think of a thing to say.
Spike had only taken a few steps down the hallway when the sound of Buffy's door opening stopped him in his tracks. He didn't turn around.
"Spike?" She whispered, her voice cracked and raw.
He felt her small hand rest tentatively on his shoulder and turned around. His breath caught at her tragic beauty. She looked so pale, so small and fragile. Spike wondered if this was how she had looked when Angel left her. His demon awoke at her pain and encouraged Spike to make it grow. He ignored
it.
"Yeah, pet?" Spike's response was soft and comforting. He reached out and wiped a tear from Buffy's cheek.
She smiled shyly. "Come in?" She asked, stepping back into her bedroom. "I...I don't really want to be alone." She confessed as he followed her in.
Spike let his eyes roam around her room, taking in it's cleanliness, it's girlish overtones. He noticed a well-used stuffed pig sitting on her dresser. Buffy picked it up and sat on her bed, hugging the pig close to her. Spike glanced around for a chair, noticing an empty CD-case sitting near her stereo. Giving up on the chair, he shrugged out of his duster and took a seat across from her on the bed. The music continued to pour out of the stereo, adding a heart-wrenching sadness to the cheery atmosphere of
Buffy's room.
Lived with the best times
Left with the worst
I've danced with you too long
Nothing left to say....
Let's take what we can
I know you'll hold your head up high
We've raged for the last time,
A place of no return....
And there's something in the air;
Something in my eye
I've danced with you too long.
The silence between them stretched tight. Spike shifted, trying to think of something to talk about. Something that would make her laugh or at least smile.
"So...." He began, glancing up at Buffy's faraway expression as she gripped her stuffed pig. Spike didn't get to finish his thought, as Buffy suddenly looked at the floor her hair covering her face as she sobbed, clutching her stuffed pig tightly to her chest. "Pet, don't cry...don't..." Spike murmured, moving closer to Buffy that he might put his arm around her as he had done a few nights earlier when she had been crying for her mother. After a few moments, her sobs abated and she calmed down.
"Spike, I..." Buffy began, thinking of a way to apologize, a way to explain.
"Don't, luv. It's ok." Spike cut her off.
"Is it all true?" Buffy raised her head and looked Spike in the eye as she asked her question. Her eyes were rimed in red and unshed tears made her vision watery, but her eyes never wavered, the resolve in them demanding the truth.
Spike sighed deeply, wishing the truth wasn't true. "Yes, luv, it is. I'm sorry."
"Oh, god." Buffy choked out, thinking of the time she had tasted Dracula's blood more than Riley's predicament.
"What?" Spike asked, knowing there was more here than her sorrow over
Riley.
"I...I...." Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath and forced herself to tell Spike what had transpired between her and Dracula while she was under his thrall. "I tasted Dracula's blood."
Spike blinked, shocked and not knowing what to say.
Buffy didn't notice, she continued to pour out her story words tumbling over themselves in her haste. "He had me...under his spell. I tried not too, but I couldn't help myself. He wanted me to feel my power, to know myself as a Slayer. He spoke about this darkness inside of me, one similar to his. When I
tasted his blood, I felt myself...as a Slayer. His spell was broken and we fought." Buffy began to shake from the horror of her thoughts. "Does this...does this make me....?" She couldn't finish her question and instead tightly squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, waiting for Spike to answer.
Spike thought for a moment, considering how Buffy had behaved since she had tasted the blood of Dracula before answering. "No, luv. You're not a ghoul, you're not like him at all."
Relieve shot through Buffy. Her eyes flew open, she smiled brightly and suddenly she was in Spike's arms, hugging him tightly. Shock etched itself upon Spike's face again that night. He hugged her back briefly before she pulled away, a small frown creasing her features.
"Why?" she asked, wondering if Spike was lying.
"Well....'cause." He answered, receiving a hard punch in the arm. "Ow! Fuck, Slayer give me a minute, ok?"
"A minute for what? Were you lying to me?" Tears fell unheeded down Buffy's face as she glared at her allied enemy.
"No!" Spike hurriedly replied. "You just gotta give me a sec to figure out why. I don't really know."
"Oh." Buffy grabbed the remote to her stereo and turned off the music while waiting for Spike to figure out what prevented her from losing her humanity and becoming a ghoul.
"Maybe it's cause you're the Slayer?" Spike mused aloud. " Immune to Vampiric blood or something like that. Or maybe its cause it was such a little bit and you haven't had any more? Riley's been at this for weeks, you know."
"Weeks?" Buffy gasped, shocked.
"Um..." Spike nervously ran is hand through his hair. He hadn't meant to let Buffy in on that fact. "Yeah. Sorry. I only just found out tonight."
"But he's inhuman now and I'm ok." Buffy said.
"Oh, yeah. You're fine. No worries." Spike assured Buffy, not wanting her to cry again.
Buffy sighed deeply, feeling an endless black hole where her heart used to be.
"But why, Spike?" She asked, needing to know what would drive Riley away from her and into the embrace of a Vampire. "What would make him want this?"
"Different reasons." Spike avoided making eye contact with Buffy as he spoke, unwilling to tell her the truth. "It was probably the Initiative that did it. Who knows what kind of weird experiments they did on him?" He smiled wryly "Maybe they even started feeding him the blood, to see what it would do to him. I know they took enough of it out of me for 'tests' when I was in there. They probably fed it all to him."
"You're lying, Spike." Buffy spoke flatly, deeply injured that Spike would lie to her about this. She had begun to trust him, begun to allow herself to trust and depend upon this vampire. "You know something. Something more than 'it's the Initiative's fault'."
Spike looked her in the eye and opened his mouth as though to answer her. Suddenly, he stood up, grabbing his jacket. Buffy looked up at him in pain and confusion.
"Listen, Slayer..." Spike began, putting his duster on to avoid eye contact with the shattered girl sitting so close to him, "I came here to let you know about Captain America's little perversion. I did you a favor. That doesn't mean I have to play twenty-questions." He couldn't tell her the truth. Anything but the truth. Knowing Riley did it for her, to become a part of her world more than his suddenly joe-normal status could afford would kill her. And keeping the truth from her, although hurting her less in the long run -but she didn't know that- was killing Spike. "Figure out the how's and why's on your own. I don't know what makes people do what they do. I'm a Vampire, not a bloody psychiatrist." He stared down at her pained expression for a moment, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. Spike blinked and shook his head slightly, as though banishing a thought. He swiftly turned around and strode out of her room, shutting the door behind him.
The sound of a heart-wrenching sob made him pause outside her door. He leaned against the wall, where a short time ago he had waited to be let in, listening to Buffy cry. Suddenly, her sobs were accented with the sounds of glass breaking. He started when the coppery scent of blood reached his nostrils.
"They never tell the truth." He heard her cry out before the sound of something delicate breaking. The heady scent of Buffy's powerful blood came stronger. Spike swallowed heavily.
"And they always leave." Something else was smashed.
"That's the only truth you need." He felt rather than heard her slide to the floor in defeat, and sobs again tore at her frail body. "Damn you, Spike!" She cried out to the sound of shattering glass. The scent of her blood in the air was strong. He knew she wasn't really injured, he prayed she wasn't really injured. Spike couldn't make himself walk back in to check on her, to apologize, as he knew he should. He was hungry, and the scent of the ambrosia that was Slayer's blood made him slip into game-face without
even realizing it. He was about to leave, to run downstairs and a pack of the emergency blood Buffy kept in the fridge, when his sharp hearing caught her mutter an addition to the litany she had begun to recite earlier. "They never tell the truth.... and they'll always leave.... but not before you love them."
Disclaimer: I stole music, but only out of deep respect. Something In The Air by David Bowie is most assuredly NOT MINE!!
Spike halted outside Buffy's bedroom door, not knowing whether to go in or not. He leaned against the wall, hearing soft music float from her room. He would be there if she needed him. The music flowed around him, soft and full of pain.
Your coat and hat are gone
I really can't look at your little empty shelf.
A ragged teddy bear
It feels like we never had a chance.
Don't look me in the eye!
The singers voice was ragged, as though he'd been crying. Spike shook his head, wondering where the Slayer had found such a song in the first place. She'd seemed so happy with Riley. What would prompt her to listen to such a sad song in the first place? He stared at her door, willing it to open, willing
himself to go in. Neither happened.
"Fuck this," He muttered, intending on leaving. Spike wondered why he had come in the first place. He wasn't the type to get off on this kind of pain; he preferred physical pain to emotional.
"Yes, I have a thing for her," Spike thought "so why did I have to go hurt her like this? Maybe it would've been better if I just let Harm' keep spreading her rumors. Not many vamps can stand a ghoul much less create one. Riley and that bitch he was feeding off would've been dead in short order. But then, she would have loved him in death. If he dies, she needs to know that he died a monster and not a victim. It would weigh on her too much, otherwise. She always blames herself."
Spike stared at Buffy's bedroom door, listening to the muted sounds of her sobs. He tried again to enter, but found her could not force himself to open the door.
"Bloody hell!" He cursed in his mind. "I did her a favor, but she's never gonna see it that way. I did my part. Time to go home."
We lay in each other's arms
But the room is just an empty space
I guess we lived it out
Something in the air
We smile too fast and we can't think of a thing to say.
Spike had only taken a few steps down the hallway when the sound of Buffy's door opening stopped him in his tracks. He didn't turn around.
"Spike?" She whispered, her voice cracked and raw.
He felt her small hand rest tentatively on his shoulder and turned around. His breath caught at her tragic beauty. She looked so pale, so small and fragile. Spike wondered if this was how she had looked when Angel left her. His demon awoke at her pain and encouraged Spike to make it grow. He ignored
it.
"Yeah, pet?" Spike's response was soft and comforting. He reached out and wiped a tear from Buffy's cheek.
She smiled shyly. "Come in?" She asked, stepping back into her bedroom. "I...I don't really want to be alone." She confessed as he followed her in.
Spike let his eyes roam around her room, taking in it's cleanliness, it's girlish overtones. He noticed a well-used stuffed pig sitting on her dresser. Buffy picked it up and sat on her bed, hugging the pig close to her. Spike glanced around for a chair, noticing an empty CD-case sitting near her stereo. Giving up on the chair, he shrugged out of his duster and took a seat across from her on the bed. The music continued to pour out of the stereo, adding a heart-wrenching sadness to the cheery atmosphere of
Buffy's room.
Lived with the best times
Left with the worst
I've danced with you too long
Nothing left to say....
Let's take what we can
I know you'll hold your head up high
We've raged for the last time,
A place of no return....
And there's something in the air;
Something in my eye
I've danced with you too long.
The silence between them stretched tight. Spike shifted, trying to think of something to talk about. Something that would make her laugh or at least smile.
"So...." He began, glancing up at Buffy's faraway expression as she gripped her stuffed pig. Spike didn't get to finish his thought, as Buffy suddenly looked at the floor her hair covering her face as she sobbed, clutching her stuffed pig tightly to her chest. "Pet, don't cry...don't..." Spike murmured, moving closer to Buffy that he might put his arm around her as he had done a few nights earlier when she had been crying for her mother. After a few moments, her sobs abated and she calmed down.
"Spike, I..." Buffy began, thinking of a way to apologize, a way to explain.
"Don't, luv. It's ok." Spike cut her off.
"Is it all true?" Buffy raised her head and looked Spike in the eye as she asked her question. Her eyes were rimed in red and unshed tears made her vision watery, but her eyes never wavered, the resolve in them demanding the truth.
Spike sighed deeply, wishing the truth wasn't true. "Yes, luv, it is. I'm sorry."
"Oh, god." Buffy choked out, thinking of the time she had tasted Dracula's blood more than Riley's predicament.
"What?" Spike asked, knowing there was more here than her sorrow over
Riley.
"I...I...." Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath and forced herself to tell Spike what had transpired between her and Dracula while she was under his thrall. "I tasted Dracula's blood."
Spike blinked, shocked and not knowing what to say.
Buffy didn't notice, she continued to pour out her story words tumbling over themselves in her haste. "He had me...under his spell. I tried not too, but I couldn't help myself. He wanted me to feel my power, to know myself as a Slayer. He spoke about this darkness inside of me, one similar to his. When I
tasted his blood, I felt myself...as a Slayer. His spell was broken and we fought." Buffy began to shake from the horror of her thoughts. "Does this...does this make me....?" She couldn't finish her question and instead tightly squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, waiting for Spike to answer.
Spike thought for a moment, considering how Buffy had behaved since she had tasted the blood of Dracula before answering. "No, luv. You're not a ghoul, you're not like him at all."
Relieve shot through Buffy. Her eyes flew open, she smiled brightly and suddenly she was in Spike's arms, hugging him tightly. Shock etched itself upon Spike's face again that night. He hugged her back briefly before she pulled away, a small frown creasing her features.
"Why?" she asked, wondering if Spike was lying.
"Well....'cause." He answered, receiving a hard punch in the arm. "Ow! Fuck, Slayer give me a minute, ok?"
"A minute for what? Were you lying to me?" Tears fell unheeded down Buffy's face as she glared at her allied enemy.
"No!" Spike hurriedly replied. "You just gotta give me a sec to figure out why. I don't really know."
"Oh." Buffy grabbed the remote to her stereo and turned off the music while waiting for Spike to figure out what prevented her from losing her humanity and becoming a ghoul.
"Maybe it's cause you're the Slayer?" Spike mused aloud. " Immune to Vampiric blood or something like that. Or maybe its cause it was such a little bit and you haven't had any more? Riley's been at this for weeks, you know."
"Weeks?" Buffy gasped, shocked.
"Um..." Spike nervously ran is hand through his hair. He hadn't meant to let Buffy in on that fact. "Yeah. Sorry. I only just found out tonight."
"But he's inhuman now and I'm ok." Buffy said.
"Oh, yeah. You're fine. No worries." Spike assured Buffy, not wanting her to cry again.
Buffy sighed deeply, feeling an endless black hole where her heart used to be.
"But why, Spike?" She asked, needing to know what would drive Riley away from her and into the embrace of a Vampire. "What would make him want this?"
"Different reasons." Spike avoided making eye contact with Buffy as he spoke, unwilling to tell her the truth. "It was probably the Initiative that did it. Who knows what kind of weird experiments they did on him?" He smiled wryly "Maybe they even started feeding him the blood, to see what it would do to him. I know they took enough of it out of me for 'tests' when I was in there. They probably fed it all to him."
"You're lying, Spike." Buffy spoke flatly, deeply injured that Spike would lie to her about this. She had begun to trust him, begun to allow herself to trust and depend upon this vampire. "You know something. Something more than 'it's the Initiative's fault'."
Spike looked her in the eye and opened his mouth as though to answer her. Suddenly, he stood up, grabbing his jacket. Buffy looked up at him in pain and confusion.
"Listen, Slayer..." Spike began, putting his duster on to avoid eye contact with the shattered girl sitting so close to him, "I came here to let you know about Captain America's little perversion. I did you a favor. That doesn't mean I have to play twenty-questions." He couldn't tell her the truth. Anything but the truth. Knowing Riley did it for her, to become a part of her world more than his suddenly joe-normal status could afford would kill her. And keeping the truth from her, although hurting her less in the long run -but she didn't know that- was killing Spike. "Figure out the how's and why's on your own. I don't know what makes people do what they do. I'm a Vampire, not a bloody psychiatrist." He stared down at her pained expression for a moment, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. Spike blinked and shook his head slightly, as though banishing a thought. He swiftly turned around and strode out of her room, shutting the door behind him.
The sound of a heart-wrenching sob made him pause outside her door. He leaned against the wall, where a short time ago he had waited to be let in, listening to Buffy cry. Suddenly, her sobs were accented with the sounds of glass breaking. He started when the coppery scent of blood reached his nostrils.
"They never tell the truth." He heard her cry out before the sound of something delicate breaking. The heady scent of Buffy's powerful blood came stronger. Spike swallowed heavily.
"And they always leave." Something else was smashed.
"That's the only truth you need." He felt rather than heard her slide to the floor in defeat, and sobs again tore at her frail body. "Damn you, Spike!" She cried out to the sound of shattering glass. The scent of her blood in the air was strong. He knew she wasn't really injured, he prayed she wasn't really injured. Spike couldn't make himself walk back in to check on her, to apologize, as he knew he should. He was hungry, and the scent of the ambrosia that was Slayer's blood made him slip into game-face without
even realizing it. He was about to leave, to run downstairs and a pack of the emergency blood Buffy kept in the fridge, when his sharp hearing caught her mutter an addition to the litany she had begun to recite earlier. "They never tell the truth.... and they'll always leave.... but not before you love them."