A/N: To GalaxyGirl, when I said Dawn growled I didn't mean like an angry dog, or vampire for that matter, might growl. I meant it as she groaned in frustration. :P Guess I should've used my thesaurus. Read and review if you want me to keep going, peoples. :D
Wallowing in self pity wasn't something Spike was used to, but at that point it seemed like a good idea.
'What the hell was I thinking?' he asked himself, shaking his head. 'I'd show up and say "hey honey, got a soul" and everything would be perfect? I never should have come back here. I've hurt them enough.'
He was curled up in the corner again, head hanging limply against his chest, fresh tears in his eyes.
'Look at me,' he berated. 'I'm worse than Peaches. I'm worse than I was with that sodding chip!'
He didn't even bother to lift his head as the door banged open under Buffy's powerful kick. 'Big sis to the rescue.'
"Spike," she seethed. "Get up."
He looked up then, at the face of the woman he hated more than anything he's ever known, the woman he loved more than his entire pathetic existence, and his heart ached at the sight.
She was there in all her glory, angry and ready to fight, Buffy at her best.
He hauled himself up, using the stone wall for support, facing her. "Let's get his over with, then."
Anger put aside for the moment, Buffy looked at his sorry state curiously, wondering what had happened to him, where he'd been. She squared her jaw, pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. "Care to explain or should I just get right to the killing of you?"
He stared at her for a moment, wanting to take in her beauty one last time. "Get on with the slaying, Slayer. It's what you're best at."
She lunged at him with her fist, slamming it into his jaw.
He stood there without making any move to block it, the force enough to knock his weak body against the wall. He pushed himself upright again, bleeding from the corner of his mouth. With blank eyes he stared at her.
Feeling creeped out, she hit him again, sending him to the ground on his knees.
Why wasn't he fighting back?
"If this is your idea of a turn on, Spike, I'm making this slow and painful!" she said angrily.
He looked up again, staring with those haunting eyes.
"Fight, dammit!" she told him, hauling him up by the arm.
He pulled his arm away, turning his back on her. "If you're going to do it, do it, Slayer."
Confused, she brought the stake up, then let her arm drop to her side. "What?"
He spun around. "Do it already!"
"No," she said, furrowing her brow. "Not until you tell me why you want me to."
"Just do it, already," he pleaded. "Please!"
She was genuinely stumped. "If this is a game--"
Lighting fast he grabbed her arm and put the stake to his heart, pressing it into the tender flesh. "There, half done. All you have to do is finish it."
Her eyes practically bugged out of her head. She tried to pull away but his grip tightened.
"Finish it," he whispered, begging.
She kicked out, her leg connecting with his shin. It was enough to make him stumble backward, release her.
He sunk to the floor. "Get away, Slayer."
"You don't get to tell me what to do, Spike," she told him. "You don't have that right."
He looked mournfully at her. "Just go. I'm asking. Will you please just go?"
"No! You threaten to kill my sister and I'm supposed to just leave?" she said incredulously.
"You won't kill me, you won't leave, what are you here for?" he demanded softly.
"Well I WAS here to kill you," she said. "Before you wigged out and actually wanted me to. That takes all the fun out of it."
He wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his head in them.
Officially weirded out, and now a bit concerned (not to mention mad at herself for feeling the latter) Buffy put the stake in her belt. "Spike…?"
"Make me what I was," he scoffed. "Bloody idiot, I am."
"What are you talking about?" she said in frustration.
At that moment Dawn came running through the door, skidding into her sister, knocking her down. "No!"
Buffy untangled herself from her sisters limbs and got to her knees. "Dawn, geez."
"Geez?" Dawn cried. "You were gonna kill him, I had to stop you!"
"Why?" Spike spoke up softly.
"Why what?" both Dawn and Buffy asked.
"Why did you have to stop her? Why did you have to come here?" his voice got louder with every question. "If you won't kill me, why won't you get the hell out of here!?"
He clenced his hands into fists.
Dawn got to her feet. "Spike, what's wrong?"
"How can you still care?" he asked her desperately.
"What?" she asked in reply, frowning.
"After everything I've done," he said. "You still care…"
"Okay," Buffy said. "this is really freaking me out. Who are you and what have you done with Spike?"
"Spike's dead," he chortled ruefully. "Long live William the Bloody Poofter. Better yet, long die. Only that doesn't exactly make sense, does it?"
Dawn eyed Buffy. "Did he hit his head or is he just wasted?"
"I'd say the last one is more likely," Buffy answered.
"Right," Dawn said. She grabbed Spike's arm, hauling him to his feet as Buffy had done before. "Come on, let's get you some coffee."
He pulled his arm away, stepping back with a dry laugh. "Something's wrong with Spike, he must be drunk. That's all I am, a useless drunken bloody monster."
"I've never seen him get all mopey and depressed when he's drunk," Buffy said. "but I guess there's a time for everything."
"I'm not drunk," he told them defensively.
"God," Dawn remarked. "He's having mad mood swings. Guess guy PMS really does exist. Wait…would that work for a vampire?"
"Argh!" Spike yelled, stalking past the two of them. He held open the door of the crypt. "Get out already! I can't be around you!"
"Why?" Dawn asked, ever the curious girl.
"I might hurt you," he mumbled to the ground. "I've done it enough times already."
"Whoa," Buffy commented. "You must be drunk, Spike."
"Yeah, that's it, Slayer," he said. "I'm totally sloshed. Now get away. I might say something I'll regret."
"When you're sober," she said as she and Dawn left. "I'm coming back. And I am SO gonna kick your ass."
"Maybe I'll get lucky and you'll kill me," Spike muttered as they left.
He watched them walk away.
"Or maybe I'll do it myself."
He damned those voices.
The ones that made him feel such love and remorse. Such hatred and such pain.
He felt as if Buffy's stake had gone straight through the heart, and not only an inch or less.
He wished it had.
Wallowing in self pity wasn't something Spike was used to, but at that point it seemed like a good idea.
'What the hell was I thinking?' he asked himself, shaking his head. 'I'd show up and say "hey honey, got a soul" and everything would be perfect? I never should have come back here. I've hurt them enough.'
He was curled up in the corner again, head hanging limply against his chest, fresh tears in his eyes.
'Look at me,' he berated. 'I'm worse than Peaches. I'm worse than I was with that sodding chip!'
He didn't even bother to lift his head as the door banged open under Buffy's powerful kick. 'Big sis to the rescue.'
"Spike," she seethed. "Get up."
He looked up then, at the face of the woman he hated more than anything he's ever known, the woman he loved more than his entire pathetic existence, and his heart ached at the sight.
She was there in all her glory, angry and ready to fight, Buffy at her best.
He hauled himself up, using the stone wall for support, facing her. "Let's get his over with, then."
Anger put aside for the moment, Buffy looked at his sorry state curiously, wondering what had happened to him, where he'd been. She squared her jaw, pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. "Care to explain or should I just get right to the killing of you?"
He stared at her for a moment, wanting to take in her beauty one last time. "Get on with the slaying, Slayer. It's what you're best at."
She lunged at him with her fist, slamming it into his jaw.
He stood there without making any move to block it, the force enough to knock his weak body against the wall. He pushed himself upright again, bleeding from the corner of his mouth. With blank eyes he stared at her.
Feeling creeped out, she hit him again, sending him to the ground on his knees.
Why wasn't he fighting back?
"If this is your idea of a turn on, Spike, I'm making this slow and painful!" she said angrily.
He looked up again, staring with those haunting eyes.
"Fight, dammit!" she told him, hauling him up by the arm.
He pulled his arm away, turning his back on her. "If you're going to do it, do it, Slayer."
Confused, she brought the stake up, then let her arm drop to her side. "What?"
He spun around. "Do it already!"
"No," she said, furrowing her brow. "Not until you tell me why you want me to."
"Just do it, already," he pleaded. "Please!"
She was genuinely stumped. "If this is a game--"
Lighting fast he grabbed her arm and put the stake to his heart, pressing it into the tender flesh. "There, half done. All you have to do is finish it."
Her eyes practically bugged out of her head. She tried to pull away but his grip tightened.
"Finish it," he whispered, begging.
She kicked out, her leg connecting with his shin. It was enough to make him stumble backward, release her.
He sunk to the floor. "Get away, Slayer."
"You don't get to tell me what to do, Spike," she told him. "You don't have that right."
He looked mournfully at her. "Just go. I'm asking. Will you please just go?"
"No! You threaten to kill my sister and I'm supposed to just leave?" she said incredulously.
"You won't kill me, you won't leave, what are you here for?" he demanded softly.
"Well I WAS here to kill you," she said. "Before you wigged out and actually wanted me to. That takes all the fun out of it."
He wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his head in them.
Officially weirded out, and now a bit concerned (not to mention mad at herself for feeling the latter) Buffy put the stake in her belt. "Spike…?"
"Make me what I was," he scoffed. "Bloody idiot, I am."
"What are you talking about?" she said in frustration.
At that moment Dawn came running through the door, skidding into her sister, knocking her down. "No!"
Buffy untangled herself from her sisters limbs and got to her knees. "Dawn, geez."
"Geez?" Dawn cried. "You were gonna kill him, I had to stop you!"
"Why?" Spike spoke up softly.
"Why what?" both Dawn and Buffy asked.
"Why did you have to stop her? Why did you have to come here?" his voice got louder with every question. "If you won't kill me, why won't you get the hell out of here!?"
He clenced his hands into fists.
Dawn got to her feet. "Spike, what's wrong?"
"How can you still care?" he asked her desperately.
"What?" she asked in reply, frowning.
"After everything I've done," he said. "You still care…"
"Okay," Buffy said. "this is really freaking me out. Who are you and what have you done with Spike?"
"Spike's dead," he chortled ruefully. "Long live William the Bloody Poofter. Better yet, long die. Only that doesn't exactly make sense, does it?"
Dawn eyed Buffy. "Did he hit his head or is he just wasted?"
"I'd say the last one is more likely," Buffy answered.
"Right," Dawn said. She grabbed Spike's arm, hauling him to his feet as Buffy had done before. "Come on, let's get you some coffee."
He pulled his arm away, stepping back with a dry laugh. "Something's wrong with Spike, he must be drunk. That's all I am, a useless drunken bloody monster."
"I've never seen him get all mopey and depressed when he's drunk," Buffy said. "but I guess there's a time for everything."
"I'm not drunk," he told them defensively.
"God," Dawn remarked. "He's having mad mood swings. Guess guy PMS really does exist. Wait…would that work for a vampire?"
"Argh!" Spike yelled, stalking past the two of them. He held open the door of the crypt. "Get out already! I can't be around you!"
"Why?" Dawn asked, ever the curious girl.
"I might hurt you," he mumbled to the ground. "I've done it enough times already."
"Whoa," Buffy commented. "You must be drunk, Spike."
"Yeah, that's it, Slayer," he said. "I'm totally sloshed. Now get away. I might say something I'll regret."
"When you're sober," she said as she and Dawn left. "I'm coming back. And I am SO gonna kick your ass."
"Maybe I'll get lucky and you'll kill me," Spike muttered as they left.
He watched them walk away.
"Or maybe I'll do it myself."
He damned those voices.
The ones that made him feel such love and remorse. Such hatred and such pain.
He felt as if Buffy's stake had gone straight through the heart, and not only an inch or less.
He wished it had.
