He let her run, letting her escape time and time again. Her face turned to him in horror when she finally slipped and saw him standing in front of her. Sweat dropped from her cheeks combining itself with the scent of fear.

"Please."

But he just got closer, licking the sweat from her nose, tasting the teardrops from her chin. She tried to crawl out of the way, he grabbed her, pulling her in what looked like an embrace. Her neck pulsed and he didn't hesitate as he bit in.

And she still lay there, too weakened to move, yet still alive. Still alive as he pulled up her skirt, still strong enough to scream as he took her. And he smiled as her screams filled the room, knowing that the only ones who'd hear her wouldn't give a damn.


***********

He woke up crying. Holding his hands to his ears, desperate not to listen, but it didn't stop him from hearing the crying, the pleading. Spike leaned back against the wall, his head resting against the cold stone. The kids' voices rang through the room, a mixture of pitter patter, constant chatter, and heartbeats ranging from normal to fast. He could smell them, the entire time, some of them had their monthlies, he pretended not to know, but it was hard to ignore. The smell of it, the blood rushing down. And none of it for him.

He winced at the thought, at even the idea. Maybe he should be chained up, let Buffy make sure that he wouldn't do anything, but she'd hidden the chains, refusing to let him know where they were. He had to get out of here. But could he? No one stopped him as he left, no one stopped him as he wandered through town. No one followed him either. Did she trust him, or were they just too busy to worry about one errant vampire?

Night was over before he knew it and as he opened the door of the Summer's home, everyone was already sleeping. He quickly moved past them, down into the basement. He smiled as he noticed Dawn sleeping in his cot. She merely woke up for a second as he tucked her in and lay down on the ground. His head resting against the wall as he stared at the ceiling. Free, unleashed and hopelessly in love. God Buffy, how could you ever trust me.

He didn't dare sleep.

*****


They found the body the next morning, it was lying on the couch where the woman had lived, her nice dress had been ripped open. Terror still on the poor girl's face. Just one fatal wound, neck rupture as the official files would say it. Vampires as they all knew, but noone would admit.

Blond, beautiful and dead.

The third in a week.

Just a few more names in the obituaries.

*****


The boy was screaming, hard, loud, begging for him not to... begging for him to end it. He could feel the blood trickle onto him as he took the small body. He let go for a second, just to smell it before rushing in again.

He didn't finish until the boy's screaming had faded into sobbing. All his bluster faded away, leaving nothing but a scared child. It was only then that he bit in, swallowing the fear.

******

Spike stood over the sink, scrubbing wildly. He couldn't see himself in the mirror, but if he could, he was sure that his whole blody was stained with blood. He tried to get the stink out, but it wouldn't help; no matter how hard he rubbed, he could still smell it. His own blood poured out from the wounds he'd opened, but even that wouldn't cleanse him.

"Spike are you..." She stopped in mid-sentence, staring at him. He froze, she wasn't supposed to see this. "Oh God Spike what are you doing." He didn't even fight as she ripped the sponge from his hands, holding him. He didn't want to, knew he wasn't worth it, but she pulled him in her arms anyway. Blood was getting on her white sweater, but she didn't seem to mind.

"What's going on?" Harris sounded suitably enraged when he found them like that. Spike wished he could grab for a towel, anything to hide his shame. He was half-naked, way too close to Buffy and Harris would be right to hate him for that. But Buffy still didn't let go.

"It's alright, Xander."

Harris glared once more before turning his back on them without a word. Spike slid out of Buffy's arms, dropping down on the floor. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go; she was supposed to hate him. "I keep dreaming of killing," he finally whispered.


"Nightmares."

"I wish. I wish it were nightmares, but that's the worst of it. I keep enjoying them. I know I should hate myself, and I do. I hate hurting them, hearing them. But part of me just loves the pain, the screams. Oh God Buffy. I'm nothing but a monster."

She didn't answer, just kneeled down next to him, holding his hand. She didn't have to say a word, just her being there. He flinched as she touched him with a wet towel, cleaning him up. If only it were that easy.

She'd given him some clothes, helped him get dressed and went downstairs. Even though she'd asked, he hadn't followed her, just stuck on the stairs. He couldn't help listening, but facing them would be too much.

"We should just stake him." At least the bleeding carpenter was predictable as always. Now if only she'd listen to him.

"No!!" Silence followed her outcry. "He doesn't want to harm anyone Xander. He's having nightmares, the least we can do is help him with them."

"Sure, like he was just harmless when the First used him the last time. Buffy... I know he's changed, but what if the First has him killing again. The least we should do is chain him up, make sure he isn't..."

"No!"

"Buffy." Giles would bring her to her senses, he had to.

"I trust him. Spike won't harm anyone. I'm sure of it."

He could hear her walking up the stairs, giving him one look before continuing to her room. He stared down at the group downstairs. The Potentials, the Scoobies, and the Watcher. He finally managed to get himself to walk downstairs. Their stares felt like whiplashes burning in his skin following him down as he moved to the basement. One small whisper. "Please lock the door." Giles nodded and followed him. It wouldn't be much, but it'd give them at least a few seconds before he'd break through it.

*****

Blood, bathing in it. Their eyes, pulling them out and carrying them in his pockets, his hands drenched in blood.

Spike woke up screaming, staring at the blood on his hands. What had he done?

tbc