By Ren
Disclaimer: A dancing hamster stopped by my house yesterday and told me I didn't own BTVS or any characters. Shocking, isn't it?
Rating: PG-13 to R
Spoilers: Set in Season 6 after Gone, but Buffy is still in that "I'm-not-really alive" stage. A bit AU.
Summary: A deadly virus affects Sunnydale, both humans and demons. There is an antidote, but not enough to go around. One must give up and die...
Part 1- Depths of Death
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You know the day destroys
the night
Night divides the day
Tried to run
Tried to hide
-Break on Through
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A wave of white-blonde hair fell across the vampire's smooth forehead as he peered closely at the 6 tubes of blood. Antidote blood. Not food-blood. They referred it as " virus cure." Of course, it didn't promise anything, only a chance to survive.
Almost two weeks ago, most of southern California had been infected with this virus, which everyone called "bacteria." Only cure= genetic blood. The virus formed sores in their blood, growing each and everyday. Everyone was scared. Many took the antidote and survived, with few side affects. Many didn't and died. The scoobies waited. Even Spike began to show symptoms.
The government had given them the cure. After that, they just took off and ran, scared out of their wits. They were foolish and selfish. Seven of them, six doses of blood.
Spike growled. He hated the government. He hated everything about them, especially the Initiative. The vampire didn't really care if he got to live or not, but he suspected Buffy needed him more than anything else, so he lived, or well...unlived. For her.
The thing that angered him the most was Buffy. He wasn't mad at her. He was mad at what was happening to her. Here was his slayer, just starting to recover from being resurrected and her life was again threatened. Spike would trade places with her just to make the pain go away. He couldn't stand to watch her be so sad. For a moment, he glanced at her, sitting on the steps inside the Magic Shop, starring blankly ahead.
And Spike felt his heart to out to her. She was so lost and he wanted to help her and love her, if only she would let him in.
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I think that you know what
to do, yeah
I'm sure that you know what to do
You're lost little girl
You're lost little girl
You're lost
-The Doors
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A dust cloud had settled on the man's already dirty shoes. He didn't bother cleaning it. His 7 year-old son stood next to him, clinging to his hand, fearfully, of what was out there. He didn't want to die and the man couldn't blame him. The boy whimpered softly as they sat on the hood of their old blue truck, the only one left at the gas station.
The man took out a cigarette and puffed it slowly, savoring the taste it left on his tongue. They chose not to take the blood. They chose not to live. It was all for the better.
God created everything to have it's purpose and this was it. After all, if they did survive, life would still be Hell. They would still be living in the Old Town, living on welfare and a termite-infested apartment. This was daily life for them, and for everyone else. The boy never wanted to go but it didn't leave him a choice.
The man use to work at the old gas station. Everyday and night he watched the cars go by, never stopping at his place to fill up. Over time, he got bored of his job. Then one day, he got a call from the boy's mother. She sent money. So he quit his job and the two moved away. But they came back, only to find their little town of Sunnydale infested with the bacteria.
From far away, Buffy watched the two figures. No matter how long she looked, how hard she looked, she left nothing. The man and the boy never sensed her presence and she was glad. She just wanted some peace and quiet to rest and think. Often, she wondered why they came back. She supposed she did live better than some. She had a home, a sister, food, money, a roof over her head...and friends.
To Buffy, everything was fuzzy and confusing. She didn't understand life. If it was all pain and tears, why did they live it? What was her purpose? Let the world suffer, it'll never end.
It hurt.
To lose everything and have it come back, but just slightly out of reach. Buffy couldn't even cry. What was the point? No one would hear her. Except Spike.
In fairy-tales it never hurt. Love was perfect. People were happy. Only dreams, Buff. She reminded herself. Only dreams.
What she had with Angel, it was real. What she has with Spike...She could only hope it was real.
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At first it was natural to just kick out the Big Bad, but both Dawn and Buffy protested. Soon after, Willow, Tara, and Anya wanted to keep him too. Xander wasn't too pleased. Anya said she could hire Spike to watch her money, except she wouldn't actually pay him.
They all agreed on one thing: no one wanted to die. When Anya mentioned this, all eyes turned towards Buffy. They glanced nervously at her, waiting for her reaction. But she did what she always did; nothing. Buffy sat with her chin cupped in her hands, totally oblivious to her surroundings and her little groupie.
Upon calling Giles, he suggested they head to England right away, maybe he could find a cure for them. Willow, being the smart one, figured the virus was contiguous, and couldn't risk spreading it. They thrashed that idea. Giles went crazy with worry, but Buffy told him it would be all right and he calmed down. Just a bit.
Willow tried using magic to duplicate the blood, so there was enough, but Tara cut in, reminding her not to use magic and the blood would be wasted if it went wrong. Besides, she doubted it would work. Magic wasn't the answer to everything.
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This is the end, Beautiful
friend
This is the end, My only friend, the end
It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end
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The only light in the dark underground crypt came from the silent telly. Spike had it on mute, for he did not want to hear it. He didn't even want to watch it, but he thought he would calm him a bit, so he did. And it didn't.
All the anger he felt from the world. All the fury he felt from God. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever been so wasted.
Buffy was a happy happy girl, but then she was taken away. She still fought like always, super slayer strength, super slayer speed.
Why?
Because it takes the hurt away.
Why?
Because it hurts. Bad.
That wasn't what Spike looked for. He longed to have the old slayer back. The one who had cheeky comments, the one who was sarcastic and quick to think. He stood up and walked halfway to his door, but chickened out and instead, leaned against the wall, breathing heavily even thought he didn't need to.
What has he turned into? A little love and he's ruined. But love was a powerful emotion to be toyed with. Spike knew that now. He wished he hadn't. Love sucks. He couldn't even leave the fucking place, because then, he'd infect the rest of the world and then Buffy would hate him forever.
When he was first turned, Spike thought nothing of being in love, truly in love, but now that he was, he regretted. The vamp also had to admit love saved him. He longed to be alive. To breathe. To feel. She made him want to live.
"There's a difference between staying alive and living." Buffy whispered to him at last.
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Part 2-Voices In The Rain
Those last words were true, very true. Indeed, it was how Spike has always felt about her...well, he was undead, but he was up and moving. It has been a full week. Many in Sunnydale have recovered...and many died. Spike wasn't the only who had the obvious feeling Buffy was the one who wanted to die. Without her, there would be enough antidote for everybody else. But no, he couldn't think that way. He wasn't even alive without Buffy. If she were to die, he wanted to die along with her.
Currently, she was asleep in the other room. Spike had the infinite longing to see her.
He stood by the doorway of her room, watching her sleep, her chest rising. She was alive. And she was going to live. He would be damned if she didn't realize that in time.
They had what, maybe 4 days left before the virus took place and killed them
all? Spike knew. He would be the one to die. He just knew.
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Where do we go from here?
Where do we go from here?
She never slept. She just told the others she was going to sleep to get them off her back. The pressure was bad enough. And then there was the thought on everybody's mind: "Miss Buffy wants to die so she can go to heaven, na-na-na-na-nana..." She couldn't shut them out. She just wanted them to stop.
Buffy pressed against the soft pillow, trying to squeeze out the tears that were bottled up inside. At least, it would make her feel better.
They didn't come. And she couldn't force them.
Instead of visualizing her final death, Spike came into view. What did she want from him? Perhaps he was the answer. He was the only one she could ever be around without wanting to scream her head off. What would he think of her? He, the messed up vampire who's always been there for her. As if on command, he appeared outside her door. Of course, he still thought she was asleep. Let him think that.
Buffy heard him quietly take a chair next to her bed and sit down. He stayed like that in silence for almost an hour. She thought about waking up and talking to him, demanding to know why he was here, but mostly, she just wanted to find out why.
She was beginning to think she had to wait forever when he started to speak.
"Hey." He didn't say anything after that. Not for a long time.
That's what he started off with. Lame, Buffy thought. He even spoke quietly. Like he was nervous. She heard him gulp. Was she suppose to wake up now? Should she?
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"Listen, I can't say I understand what you're going through, though I wish I could. But, Buffy...stay strong." Spike paused. What else should he say? It's not she could hear him, she was asleep. Still, he wanted her to know.
"I love you. We all love you. God, Buffy, for the sake of the world and me, live. Please." He wouldn't break down. "I don't know what you want, slayer. I'm no Angel." He chuckled at the last joke. She seemed to have heard him. Was it his imagination or did her mouth move? Maybe she was trying to talk.
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It was torture. Lying there listening to Spike confess how much he loved her and needed her. All this talk about love. Buffy wished she could throw up. What good did love ever do? All it did was hurt her more and more. God, she longed for him. She wanted to hold him and tell him she needed him badly and she wanted to be with him. But she couldn't.
She wished for once they could forget about the world, and dance together in the rain, and get sick, and be together. Just once. Then everything would crash down on them like they always do.
No, I don't love him.
Buffy couldn't say that she did. Truth is, since Angel, she didn't know what love was.
I feel for him.
Now that was true. She did. She felt a lot. She felt inside his soulless being. She felt his love and his comfort and it brought relief.
Silently, Buffy started to cry.
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Spike realized she had been awake the entire time. He was almost embarrassed, but caught himself. He loved her too much. He loved her too much to care.
When she started to cry, he knew he hit a rough spot. Shaking, he climbed onto the bed and held her.
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TBC...