Sometimes the madness drew back, as it did now, allowing him to think at least semi-rationally. Even that was a struggle, though, and he fought to remember what she'd said.
There was danger, or evil, or both. And a girl was in trouble, and Buffy… Spike let out an aggravated sound, burying his fingers in his hair. What had she said?
His mind refused to work linearly, but one thought kept beating at him. Buffy needed him. It was as if she'd cast a calling spell over him, and he had to find her or he'd explode. He found himself at the door without even telling himself to get off the floor, and hesitated only an instant. He opened the door and stepped outside. He had to find her.
He was hesitant at first, but became a little more courageous as he continued on to her. It was better, here, with a purpose. As long as he was going to her, he was alright. He wasn't good, but he was better. She made him better, just by her connection with him. He grew a little hope, even. He felt a semblance of normality returning. If he could see her, help her, maybe he could escape the people that haunted him.
Somehow, he could regain his mind, if nothing else, and it was all tied to her. She was the only thing he could focus on, and he clung to it like a drowning man. If he could focus, he could think, and it was frightening when he couldn't even do that for the mad whirling of his mind. But with the thought of Buffy, his mind… didn't clear, but there were no longer a million things attacking him at once. Only a few dozen.
He had to find her. She needed him. He could remember that thought. He let his mind wander over her in relief, now that that mind wasn't immediately swallowed up by madness. He loved her so much. He was never happier than in her company. He frowned as a new emotion surfaced in his mind. There hadn't been anything but guilt and sorrow for ages now, it seemed. It was annoyance, now, and hurt. He remembered that he hadn't always been perfectly happy with her. When she had been sleeping with him, then rejecting him, he'd been upset. He'd actually told her to go away a few times. It was just… he frowned again, secretly pleased that he could think again. Why was it so hard for her to say? He'd come to terms with the fact that he loved her. It hadn't been easy, but he'd accepted it, professed it. Why was it so hard for her? He couldn't accept that she didn't really love him. She'd come back too many times for that to be true. Why couldn't she say it? Would she ever?
He'd lived – well, not really, but – for so long without hearing it, it wasn't urgent anymore. But he had to hear it sometime. Just some reassurance that she would one day acknowledge him, and her feelings in return. He had to hear it. Some day.
He was getting close. He could smell her. God, she smelled good. That was one thing he could always do, was find her. He could always find his love. Always.
And you know what happens after that. What did you think? This started out as rambling, and ended up as, well, longer rambling. Could you follow? Reviews, please! I need to know! Thanks; this one was fun. Nice to have no plot, just some good character fun.