Disclaimer: I own nothing. No Buffy, no Spike, no nothing.
A/N: I'm not very good with insane conversation, so please bear with me!
*****
She was running faster than she ever had and her feet felt like they were about to fall off. She had walked so far from the church and it seemed to be taking her twice as long to run back over the path she had taken so many times. Countless times, even. Each for the same reason. Fight, run, slay, live. This time it was different, she was here for him.
The picture of him draped over the cross, his body limp and helpless, little clouds of smoke rising from his body was imprinted in her mind. Only seconds went by when she didn't think about it, and it seemed that everytime her mind traveled back to him her feet, of their own volition, moved faster.
She closed her eyes and let the oxygen heavily flow in and out of her body as she leaned against the church. Her breathing became slower, less panicked, and her hand grasped the cold handle attached to the church door. She pushed the door open not in a fit of anger or fear, but slowly so not to disturb the vampire who she had quickly left. She looked around as she stepped over the threshold. Her heart seemed to skip two beats when she noticed . . . that there was nothing. No one. Her mind quickly began to reel and she shoved back the tears forming in her eyes. She walked down the aisle, slowly at first, but faster and faster with each step she took. The broken pews at the front of the church passed by in a blur as she reached the cross where Spike's body once lay. Her eyes moved from corner to corner of the church, and still . . . no Spike.
She shuffled her feet and felt small grains pry at the bottom of her shoe. Her eyes grew wide and she looked down to find what she already knew was there . . . dust.
She placed her hand over her mouth, her eyes still wide and not blinking. She felt frozen. She squeezed her hand together and felt her cold fingertips press against her palm. A tear slowly rolled down the crevices of her face, followed by another. Her face was now cold but she couldn't bring herself to move. This was it. There was no more,
nothing left. There was nothing now to do. She left him because *she* couldn't handle it, *she* was ready to process the information. If only *she* had been more willing, then maybe he'd still be---
Buffy moved from her place as she heard the clank of something hard, solid, hit the floor, and felt the object hit her foot . . . a stake? She looked around but couldn't didn't find anyone.
"Bad man was watching. Very, very bad man."
Buffy gasped as the pale figure rose in front of her. He looked beaten, tired. Blisters, bruises, cuts, and burns were sprawled patternlessly over his chest. She blinked a few times, and even though he looked so torn and broken, she couldn't help but smile. Not a big smile, of course, but one that showed her relief to the fact that he was alive, or undead . . . still. She wiped it away quickly and concentrated on the vampire in front of her.
"What man?" She asked, her voice, even to herself, seemed stern and cold. She watched Spike hesitate and she moved towards him. She asked him again, but this time her voice was more soft.
"Spike, what man?"
"Bad man. Wanted to hurt the girl. Wanted to hurt you . . . " He paused for a second and brought his eyes up to meet hers. She looked scared. He looked down again and muttered softly, " . . . like I hurt you."
Buffy was taken back by his words, but quickly recovered.
"Spike---"
"I hurt him, though, I did. Before you, before anyone could reach. They all told me not too. Wasn't part of the plan, wasn't time yet. All were yelling, but I did it. I think they're mad at me, but I think I'm better. Maybe. Am I better? No. A-are you mad at me?" Spike looked up at Buffy, his eyes pleading. Her hand came towards him, softly touching his cheek. Spike fliched and moved back a bit, Buffy followed.
"You're better. You worked for it Spike and you're better." She moved her hand from his face down to his chest, over his heart. Spike pulled away from her. He shrunk down to the floor, his knees pressed against his chest and his head resting againt a pew.
"Work hard. William worked hard. He was a good boy. Not like me, not like that man. Evil. He was me. They're all me. All like me, all the same. Singing the same song. It's all to kill. Same song."
"Vampire." Buffy whispered. "Spike, no. He wasn't a man." A beat."He was a beast, an animal."
"Animal," Spike repeated to himself, "like me. Cold, dark, evil, all evil. Animals hurt people, not on purpose. And they're sorry and I'---"
"Spike, no. He didn't have a soul." Buffy paused for a minute and crouched down next to him. She placed a hand above his ear and slowly began to stroke his hair. "You do." She stated firmly.
Not acknowledging what Buffy had said, Spike continued. "It's all a game. Has been, will be. Nobody ever wins, not until the end. It's coming, the end. All over. Not gonna win," he looked up at Buffy,"you don't have the right cards."
"Spike, w-what are you talking about?" Buffy asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.
"I'm done. Finished. Tired." Spike said as he burried his head.
Buffy stood quickly. As far as she knew it was no use. "Fine. I understand." Buffy took a few steps but turned back towards Spike.
"Are you coming?"
*****
AN: Is it alright? Want more? Reviews are welcome. Infact, they are requested!
A/N: I'm not very good with insane conversation, so please bear with me!
*****
She was running faster than she ever had and her feet felt like they were about to fall off. She had walked so far from the church and it seemed to be taking her twice as long to run back over the path she had taken so many times. Countless times, even. Each for the same reason. Fight, run, slay, live. This time it was different, she was here for him.
The picture of him draped over the cross, his body limp and helpless, little clouds of smoke rising from his body was imprinted in her mind. Only seconds went by when she didn't think about it, and it seemed that everytime her mind traveled back to him her feet, of their own volition, moved faster.
She closed her eyes and let the oxygen heavily flow in and out of her body as she leaned against the church. Her breathing became slower, less panicked, and her hand grasped the cold handle attached to the church door. She pushed the door open not in a fit of anger or fear, but slowly so not to disturb the vampire who she had quickly left. She looked around as she stepped over the threshold. Her heart seemed to skip two beats when she noticed . . . that there was nothing. No one. Her mind quickly began to reel and she shoved back the tears forming in her eyes. She walked down the aisle, slowly at first, but faster and faster with each step she took. The broken pews at the front of the church passed by in a blur as she reached the cross where Spike's body once lay. Her eyes moved from corner to corner of the church, and still . . . no Spike.
She shuffled her feet and felt small grains pry at the bottom of her shoe. Her eyes grew wide and she looked down to find what she already knew was there . . . dust.
She placed her hand over her mouth, her eyes still wide and not blinking. She felt frozen. She squeezed her hand together and felt her cold fingertips press against her palm. A tear slowly rolled down the crevices of her face, followed by another. Her face was now cold but she couldn't bring herself to move. This was it. There was no more,
nothing left. There was nothing now to do. She left him because *she* couldn't handle it, *she* was ready to process the information. If only *she* had been more willing, then maybe he'd still be---
Buffy moved from her place as she heard the clank of something hard, solid, hit the floor, and felt the object hit her foot . . . a stake? She looked around but couldn't didn't find anyone.
"Bad man was watching. Very, very bad man."
Buffy gasped as the pale figure rose in front of her. He looked beaten, tired. Blisters, bruises, cuts, and burns were sprawled patternlessly over his chest. She blinked a few times, and even though he looked so torn and broken, she couldn't help but smile. Not a big smile, of course, but one that showed her relief to the fact that he was alive, or undead . . . still. She wiped it away quickly and concentrated on the vampire in front of her.
"What man?" She asked, her voice, even to herself, seemed stern and cold. She watched Spike hesitate and she moved towards him. She asked him again, but this time her voice was more soft.
"Spike, what man?"
"Bad man. Wanted to hurt the girl. Wanted to hurt you . . . " He paused for a second and brought his eyes up to meet hers. She looked scared. He looked down again and muttered softly, " . . . like I hurt you."
Buffy was taken back by his words, but quickly recovered.
"Spike---"
"I hurt him, though, I did. Before you, before anyone could reach. They all told me not too. Wasn't part of the plan, wasn't time yet. All were yelling, but I did it. I think they're mad at me, but I think I'm better. Maybe. Am I better? No. A-are you mad at me?" Spike looked up at Buffy, his eyes pleading. Her hand came towards him, softly touching his cheek. Spike fliched and moved back a bit, Buffy followed.
"You're better. You worked for it Spike and you're better." She moved her hand from his face down to his chest, over his heart. Spike pulled away from her. He shrunk down to the floor, his knees pressed against his chest and his head resting againt a pew.
"Work hard. William worked hard. He was a good boy. Not like me, not like that man. Evil. He was me. They're all me. All like me, all the same. Singing the same song. It's all to kill. Same song."
"Vampire." Buffy whispered. "Spike, no. He wasn't a man." A beat."He was a beast, an animal."
"Animal," Spike repeated to himself, "like me. Cold, dark, evil, all evil. Animals hurt people, not on purpose. And they're sorry and I'---"
"Spike, no. He didn't have a soul." Buffy paused for a minute and crouched down next to him. She placed a hand above his ear and slowly began to stroke his hair. "You do." She stated firmly.
Not acknowledging what Buffy had said, Spike continued. "It's all a game. Has been, will be. Nobody ever wins, not until the end. It's coming, the end. All over. Not gonna win," he looked up at Buffy,"you don't have the right cards."
"Spike, w-what are you talking about?" Buffy asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.
"I'm done. Finished. Tired." Spike said as he burried his head.
Buffy stood quickly. As far as she knew it was no use. "Fine. I understand." Buffy took a few steps but turned back towards Spike.
"Are you coming?"
*****
AN: Is it alright? Want more? Reviews are welcome. Infact, they are requested!