Breath of Relief
By Annie
Disclaimer: Never been, never will be mine. Spoilers: Showtime Summary: Spike's belief is well-founded. Rated: R Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
She
hot prick of pain as the tip of the dagger traces the already-open pattern on his chest
will
flutter of swollen eyelids in frustrated resignation as he feels the trail of the precious blood making its' way down his abdomen to disappear into the already-stained black denim beneath
come
unexpected coil of heat in his groin at the double meaning of the word he had not really meant in THAT context right now
for
blaze of fire on his skin as the razor-sharp steel sketches yet another symbol on the tortured parchment that is his skin
me.
flare of rebellion in his soggy mind, as he starts the mantra over again inside
She will come for me.
Sometime later, chance for that rebellion he has been feeling, as he brings his legs up to powerfully snap the neck of the demon bearing down on him for yet another sketching session. Strong, determined snap of the ropes tying his arms back, and brief, victorious struggle with another demon before he finds himself on his way, out into the cave, and there she is.
She came for me
flowing exultantly through his mind and he searches her face futilely
Just a dream, a fantasy of love born of desperation. He is still captive against the rough stone.
She will come for me.
He blinks, and she is there. He doesn't trust this, doesn't trust anything anymore, can't rely on any of his senses. Just because it looks like it, sounds like it and even smells like it, it isn't Salvation coming for him. Not yet.
It speaks. "Poor Spike. He still thinks I believe in him."
i do
"Be realistic. I don't even believe in myself."
i have enough belief for two
"At least, not enough to risk my skin to save your ass. Not enough to face that." It looks in the direction of the Hell-born thing they had bled him to raise.
He tries again to reach for her mind. He hasn't been able to find her since the end of the drowning incident, but he thinks desperately that with the vision of her right here, right in front of him, maybe he can. The First would not be stupid enough to allow it, he despairs, when he fails once more.
It still speaks to him. "I'm sorry, Spike. You need to accept this."
never
"You know it would never have worked out. It's time to let go."
time to hang on, find his mantra again
his lips are moving of their own accord
"So we can both move on. I promise, soon it will all be." Its' voice drifts off, looking more intently, leaning closer to hear.
"She will come, she will come for me, she will come for me, she will come for me.."
It comes even nearer, impossibly close. "No, I won't"
yes, she will
The mantra goes on and on in his head and on his lips, until he passes out in utter exhaustion.
Someone he doesn't know this time, except as the identity-stealing nightmare who seems to own him now, body and new-born soul.
"Well, alone again," It gloats, and she is back. The not-she. "I just love having you to myself." It approaches with malice in Its' eyes and Spike shuts himself down against the force of the thoughts projected at him, Its' promise of more shattering pain yet to come.
she will come for me
And still later, yet again, and Spike wonders if it's still today, or if it's tomorrow or next week or next year. Another touch of rebellion, born of the anger and fear inside.
He looks at It blearily through his painfully swollen eyes.
It stands there, weapon in hand, most likely looking for an untouched inch of skin to turn into a canvas.
good luck finding one
"A knife now, is it?"
he sounds so much braver than he feels
and now It can suddenly touch weapons - bloody great, that is
she will come
I can endure, because she will come
It stays silent, not mocking this time, just looking gravely.
"Well..well, you can't hurt me."
much more without killing me for good
"You're just a bloody figment, you are. You're just."
moving toward him and if he had breath it would be stopped in his chest in anticipation of the intense pain he knows is coming
arms moving up in front of him, and It silently uses the knife to slice through the leather binding him
steps back, and he looks, and It's looking back at him, into him. not it.
She.
really real she and he holds onto her and just looks and he can see
words she can't force herself to speak, walled up behind her eyes and clearly heard in his mind
I had to come for you.
leaning against her with a half-sob, half-breath of relief and she releases his eyes and takes him, leads him and the mantra in his brain is laid to rest
She came for me.
By Annie
Disclaimer: Never been, never will be mine. Spoilers: Showtime Summary: Spike's belief is well-founded. Rated: R Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
She
hot prick of pain as the tip of the dagger traces the already-open pattern on his chest
will
flutter of swollen eyelids in frustrated resignation as he feels the trail of the precious blood making its' way down his abdomen to disappear into the already-stained black denim beneath
come
unexpected coil of heat in his groin at the double meaning of the word he had not really meant in THAT context right now
for
blaze of fire on his skin as the razor-sharp steel sketches yet another symbol on the tortured parchment that is his skin
me.
flare of rebellion in his soggy mind, as he starts the mantra over again inside
She will come for me.
Sometime later, chance for that rebellion he has been feeling, as he brings his legs up to powerfully snap the neck of the demon bearing down on him for yet another sketching session. Strong, determined snap of the ropes tying his arms back, and brief, victorious struggle with another demon before he finds himself on his way, out into the cave, and there she is.
She came for me
flowing exultantly through his mind and he searches her face futilely
Just a dream, a fantasy of love born of desperation. He is still captive against the rough stone.
She will come for me.
He blinks, and she is there. He doesn't trust this, doesn't trust anything anymore, can't rely on any of his senses. Just because it looks like it, sounds like it and even smells like it, it isn't Salvation coming for him. Not yet.
It speaks. "Poor Spike. He still thinks I believe in him."
i do
"Be realistic. I don't even believe in myself."
i have enough belief for two
"At least, not enough to risk my skin to save your ass. Not enough to face that." It looks in the direction of the Hell-born thing they had bled him to raise.
He tries again to reach for her mind. He hasn't been able to find her since the end of the drowning incident, but he thinks desperately that with the vision of her right here, right in front of him, maybe he can. The First would not be stupid enough to allow it, he despairs, when he fails once more.
It still speaks to him. "I'm sorry, Spike. You need to accept this."
never
"You know it would never have worked out. It's time to let go."
time to hang on, find his mantra again
his lips are moving of their own accord
"So we can both move on. I promise, soon it will all be." Its' voice drifts off, looking more intently, leaning closer to hear.
"She will come, she will come for me, she will come for me, she will come for me.."
It comes even nearer, impossibly close. "No, I won't"
yes, she will
The mantra goes on and on in his head and on his lips, until he passes out in utter exhaustion.
Someone he doesn't know this time, except as the identity-stealing nightmare who seems to own him now, body and new-born soul.
"Well, alone again," It gloats, and she is back. The not-she. "I just love having you to myself." It approaches with malice in Its' eyes and Spike shuts himself down against the force of the thoughts projected at him, Its' promise of more shattering pain yet to come.
she will come for me
And still later, yet again, and Spike wonders if it's still today, or if it's tomorrow or next week or next year. Another touch of rebellion, born of the anger and fear inside.
He looks at It blearily through his painfully swollen eyes.
It stands there, weapon in hand, most likely looking for an untouched inch of skin to turn into a canvas.
good luck finding one
"A knife now, is it?"
he sounds so much braver than he feels
and now It can suddenly touch weapons - bloody great, that is
she will come
I can endure, because she will come
It stays silent, not mocking this time, just looking gravely.
"Well..well, you can't hurt me."
much more without killing me for good
"You're just a bloody figment, you are. You're just."
moving toward him and if he had breath it would be stopped in his chest in anticipation of the intense pain he knows is coming
arms moving up in front of him, and It silently uses the knife to slice through the leather binding him
steps back, and he looks, and It's looking back at him, into him. not it.
She.
really real she and he holds onto her and just looks and he can see
words she can't force herself to speak, walled up behind her eyes and clearly heard in his mind
I had to come for you.
leaning against her with a half-sob, half-breath of relief and she releases his eyes and takes him, leads him and the mantra in his brain is laid to rest
She came for me.