Good evening, All,
Well, here is chapter twenty-two, and it's actually on time. Due to my schedule, this is probably a two chapter week (the second one coming out this weekend), however, maybe I will surprise myself!
Before you read this, *please* note that this is a *heavy* angst chapter. Possibly the heaviest I have written. It was difficult to write and I tried to be as sensitive as I could in presenting it, however, it's integral to the story. Please understand that before you read on.
Also, please note that this is *not* the end of the story. I will *not* be leaving you in such a dark place. So, *please* hold the hate mail until we get out to the other side. I promise you will be rewarded. I promise you a happy ending.
That being said, I am interested in your take on this. Please give me feedback, keeping in mind that this is only a small part of the whole. Only a very small part.
Again, always a happy ending. Don't fret.
In the meantime, I would break out the chocolate, the tissues and a bottle of tequila.
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: The End of the Innocence (Chapter Twenty-Two of The One)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG -13/R (violence and adult content)
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.
Feedback: Yes, please
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)
Summary: Spike tries to quell the rising beast within Buffy, but she can no longer fight it. One act, one sacrifice, may save her. May bring her back from the edge. But will it be enough and will it be in time? *Heavy Angst Warning*
The End of the Innocence
Spike led her carefully into their room, feeling the beast just below the surface. He'd forgotten what it felt like that close to skin. That nauseating, swirling feeling right before it takes control. It had taken years, but he had driven it so deep inside that it only came when he let it. Only swirled to the surface when he fought or when he rutted with his mate. And even then, only when he called on it.
Her eyes were large and lost, fighting it with the goodness inherent in her. Inherent in him. He could feel that light now. Feel it burning him from the inside, spreading through his veins like white fire. Now he understood. Now he knew why it had taken her so long to accept him. Accept her feelings for him. It was against the light. That burning, consuming flame in her veins was in direct opposition to that cold creature that swirled in his. He felt that now. She had learned to temper the light as he had tempered the beast. Allowing them to become One. He had to learn how she did it. He had to teach her how to do it for herself.
"S'alright, Pet. Not leaving you. We'll manage," Spike whispered, gently removing the blanket from her shoulders. "Want a bath before you go to sleep?"
She nodded, hoping it would calm her. Calm *it*. That thing that wanted to take her over. "What...what's in the mug?"
Spike sighed, leading her towards the bathroom. Slowly, he turned on the tap, adding her favourite vanilla bubble bath. It was like a nightly ritual. It settled them both. "Blood, Pet."
She squinched her nose. "I thought you didn't want blood."
He sighed again, not wanting to do this. To explain it. "I don't," he answered crisply. "Had a peanut butter sandwich before I rescued you from the living room."
The sound of peanut butter made her stomach growl and flip at the same time. She was hungry, but not for that. Change the subject, she thought as she began to slowly undress. "Rescue me from what?"
His eyes flickered in the dim light and he lit a candle on the counter. Spike wasn't used to not having perfect night vision. Not with a clear night and crystal moonlight peeking in the window. "Yourself, Love," Spike answered softly.
Buffy blinked. "What.what did I do?"
"Nothing, Pet," he soothed, taking over for her trembling hands and finishing unfastening the buttons on her shirt. "But you were about to."
He could see her eyes glisten with unshed tears in the candle light as he slid the shirt from her shoulders. "What? What was I about to do?"
Spike closed his eyes and breathed. Had to be honest. She had to know how important it was to control it. "Your sis."
"What about Dawn?" Buffy snapped defensively, grabbing his wrist as his hands came away with her tattered bra. Guess he had still had a little demon of his own during their tryst in the crypt.
"Buffy," Spike breathed, working her jeans down her legs. "She had a wound on her arm. Opening a portal for Anya, I'd wager. I'll talk to Red about that tomorrow. You were scenting her."
Buffy blinked, her eyes growing impossibly larger and more afraid. "I was what?"
"Scenting her," Spike explained, turning around and turning off the water. He helped her to the edge of the tub and held her steady as she climbed in. "Looking for a meal."
She looked at him from the deep pool of bubbles, blinking, her heart racing in her chest. "I wanted to. eat my sister?"
Spike had to chuckle, if for no other reason than to release the tension. "No, Pet. But you were attracted to the blood. Craved it. Unfortunately, need it," he continued, lifting the mug back up. "You have to drink it, Pet. "
Her head wagged side to side, the tears being forced out by movement alone. "No, Spike. I. I can't drink blood. I.I won't."
"You have to, Love," Spike whispered, kneeling by the tub. "If you don't, the demon will keep searching for its next meal. I don't fancy it either. Not especially around the lot of you. Knowing you think it makes me less. less of a man." His face was solemn, his own fear just behind his eyes, making them glitter in the pale candle light. He knew that he'd always be seen as different, if not by her than by the rest. Even the other demons that inhabited their circle of friends. He was the only obvious one. The only one that had to consume the essence of life to survive.
Buffy's heart grew heavy in her chest. Understanding *him*. Understanding. "Spike, I don't."
"There was a time when you did," Spike answered, his own eyes filling. He had to be strong. Don't let her down. Don't let her see your weaknesses. Not now. "But I understand, with your blood in my veins, your light, Pet, why. Why you saw it that way."
She looked at his blue eyes swimming up from pooled tears. "You think I'm a monster because of my own blood? My. Slayer?"
Spike shook his head as vehemently as he could with bruises aching at the base of his skull. "No, Love. You're not a monster. But I can see why you thought I was."
"You're not, baby," Buffy whispered, her damp hand brushing his cheek with unending tenderness. He held her hand there a moment, closing his eyes, feeling her. Clinging to her.
"Neither are you, Pet," Spike whispered, lifting the mug to her. "Please," he said, nodding at the contents.
She hesitated a moment, taking the still warm mug from his hands. "I don't know if I can."
Spike nodded, pushing himself to his feet. "I'll leave you alone, Pet. Don't have to do it in front of me. Don't have to let anyone see it. Just have to do it."
Buffy jumped in the tub, fear clenching around her heart like a vice. "Spike, don't go. Please don't leave me. I feel. I feel like I can't.I can't control it when you're not here. I can barely when you are."
Her voice was shaky. Desperate. Her hand shot out to grab his, dropping the mug to the floor, letting it shatter against the tile in a spray of crimson. His eyes shot to her, feeling the beast rising inside of her. Rising. Taking her light. "Pet, no," Spike whispered, pulling off his t- shirt, the tears beginning to drizzle down his cheeks in silver trails. "Please, fight it."
Her body shook and her eyes closed, hands clenching at the sides of the tub. She was breathing slowly, trying to push it down. She was losing. He was losing her. Spike slid out of his jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor with her clothes and shoes, and climbed in with her. If he could hold her, bind her, do *something* to keep her anchored to him, maybe she wouldn't fade away. Spike knew she could fight any Vampire, any one on the planet, and win. But this one was inside of her. Buffy was lost as to how to fight. How to win. How to survive.
"Buffy?" Spike asked, facing her in the tub, his knees bent, his feet on either side of her hips. She just sat still, eyes shut, breathing. He took her chin in his hand, pulling her closer so her legs slid on top of his. "Buffy, Love?"
Her eyes flickered open and they were golden, glowing back at him like a wild animal, her own green fighting to swim to the surface. She was losing. "Spike?" Buffy whimpered. Her voice. It was her voice with the monster's eyes. It shattered his soul. Their soul.
Her nose twitched in the air.
The blood.
She smelled the blood on the floor. It was bringing the demon out of her. Making her insane for food. For that which kept her, kept them, alive.
"It's all right, Love," Spike whispered, pulling her closer. Human tears dripped from her inhuman eyes and his heart broke, watching her change. Watching her fight. Watching her lose. They never lost. Never. But now.
"I don't know what to do," Buffy sobbed, wrapping her hands around his neck tenderly. Her body was still hers, but it was taking her over, inch by inch. Had to drive it down. Had to make it stop.
"Come to me, Pet," Spike said quietly, fighting his own panic and pulling her until she sat butterfly in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist, his low around her hips. "Stay with me," he whispered, beginning to rock her, locking them together. Trying to connect them again. Find their balance. She moved against him, her sobs ringing out against the cold tile. He stroked her back as they moved, whispering to her. Trying to calm her. Tethering her to him.
"Spike," she breathed, her wet cheek pressed to his. "Spike, I'm so. I can't.."
"It's all right," he reassured, bringing her face back to his, still rocking her. He stared in her eyes. "You have to drive it down. Have to satisfy it for now."
Her voice trembled, her thighs clenching around his waist. The bath water swayed gently with them, splashing onto the floor. "How?"
His eyes caught hers in a gentle stare and softened, willing her to come back. Willing her emerald eyes to stare back at him in their intimate embrace. But only the beast stared back. "You need to eat."
"I spilled it," she stuttered, her voice all panic and fear. "I spilled the blood."
He cradled her cheeks in his palms, searching her pretty face, not sure she'd ever recover from this even if he did get her back, but he had to try. Had to push it back. Her light. Her blood. It was in him. Maybe if he could give it back. Share it. Maybe he could save her from this horror. "Love," he breathed, drawing her face to the curve of his neck as a mother brings a newborn to her breast.
Her head darted up, staring at him with wild and incredulous eyes. "Spike, I."
"Pet," he whispered, kissing her damp cheeks. He could kiss her face all day and never get all of her tears. "You have to. Drink."
"I. I can't," Buffy whispered, her face contorted in disgust and terror, tears streaming down in icy rivers.
"You must, love," Spike answered. "You have to satisfy it until you learn to control it or until we switch it back. You need to take back some of yourself. You don't, you put them in danger," he whispered, nodding at the door. "You don't satisfy your hunger, how can you know who you will be drawn to next? Your sis again? Emma? Will?"
Her eyes grew wider with horror and her body shook on top of his. "Spike," she whispered desperately, "I can't."
"Shh, Pet," he comforted, drawing her chest flush with his, letting her cool, wet cheek rub against his. "Shh."
He kissed a trail down her cheek, her jaw, her neck, finding the big pulse just below the skin. Slowly, he bit down on her with blunt, human teeth, letting his jaw work as if he were drinking her, feeding.
Her body followed suit. Spike could feel her tears strike his skin just before her lips, both soft and cold and trembling. He held her back, stroked her, forgave her before she found the pulse. Hoped she would forgive herself.
The feel of her mouth clamping down on him made him want to yell for mercy. She hadn't formed true fangs, so it wasn't a neat puncture. She literally ripped, tore, the skin away with her teeth, opening his neck to the air and her mouth. Spike did everything he could to quell the rising scream as he suckled her neck, trying to ease her mind. Prove that she was no different than him. But her mouth tore at him, her body rocking at a frantic pace on his, drinking him, taking him, using him.
Tears slid down his face, tumbling down her back like silver rivers. It wasn't the pain. It was the fear. The fear he'd never have her back. Not now. Still, he loved her. Still, he wanted her with every fiber of his being. Even as the beast took his blood and his body as if they were nothing but a possession. It wasn't her. It wasn't Buffy tearing his throat out and taking his body. It was him. It was his own demon. It was everything that he'd hated and the only part of him that made her truly, deathly afraid.
And now it was in her.
The light slid away from him like a cool, black satin curtain being tossed over his fire. The satin brushed his face and the feeling of her squeezed around his body moving furiously, the feeling of his own blood pumping out of his veins in the same frantic rhythm, moved away. Spike slid under the dark curtain, whispering while he still could.
"Buffy." His voice seemed choked and foreign, as if it hadn't even come from him. "Buffy, you have to stop. Love," he whispered.
And he slid underneath the veil of darkness.
To be contd...
Well, here is chapter twenty-two, and it's actually on time. Due to my schedule, this is probably a two chapter week (the second one coming out this weekend), however, maybe I will surprise myself!
Before you read this, *please* note that this is a *heavy* angst chapter. Possibly the heaviest I have written. It was difficult to write and I tried to be as sensitive as I could in presenting it, however, it's integral to the story. Please understand that before you read on.
Also, please note that this is *not* the end of the story. I will *not* be leaving you in such a dark place. So, *please* hold the hate mail until we get out to the other side. I promise you will be rewarded. I promise you a happy ending.
That being said, I am interested in your take on this. Please give me feedback, keeping in mind that this is only a small part of the whole. Only a very small part.
Again, always a happy ending. Don't fret.
In the meantime, I would break out the chocolate, the tissues and a bottle of tequila.
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: The End of the Innocence (Chapter Twenty-Two of The One)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG -13/R (violence and adult content)
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.
Feedback: Yes, please
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)
Summary: Spike tries to quell the rising beast within Buffy, but she can no longer fight it. One act, one sacrifice, may save her. May bring her back from the edge. But will it be enough and will it be in time? *Heavy Angst Warning*
The End of the Innocence
Spike led her carefully into their room, feeling the beast just below the surface. He'd forgotten what it felt like that close to skin. That nauseating, swirling feeling right before it takes control. It had taken years, but he had driven it so deep inside that it only came when he let it. Only swirled to the surface when he fought or when he rutted with his mate. And even then, only when he called on it.
Her eyes were large and lost, fighting it with the goodness inherent in her. Inherent in him. He could feel that light now. Feel it burning him from the inside, spreading through his veins like white fire. Now he understood. Now he knew why it had taken her so long to accept him. Accept her feelings for him. It was against the light. That burning, consuming flame in her veins was in direct opposition to that cold creature that swirled in his. He felt that now. She had learned to temper the light as he had tempered the beast. Allowing them to become One. He had to learn how she did it. He had to teach her how to do it for herself.
"S'alright, Pet. Not leaving you. We'll manage," Spike whispered, gently removing the blanket from her shoulders. "Want a bath before you go to sleep?"
She nodded, hoping it would calm her. Calm *it*. That thing that wanted to take her over. "What...what's in the mug?"
Spike sighed, leading her towards the bathroom. Slowly, he turned on the tap, adding her favourite vanilla bubble bath. It was like a nightly ritual. It settled them both. "Blood, Pet."
She squinched her nose. "I thought you didn't want blood."
He sighed again, not wanting to do this. To explain it. "I don't," he answered crisply. "Had a peanut butter sandwich before I rescued you from the living room."
The sound of peanut butter made her stomach growl and flip at the same time. She was hungry, but not for that. Change the subject, she thought as she began to slowly undress. "Rescue me from what?"
His eyes flickered in the dim light and he lit a candle on the counter. Spike wasn't used to not having perfect night vision. Not with a clear night and crystal moonlight peeking in the window. "Yourself, Love," Spike answered softly.
Buffy blinked. "What.what did I do?"
"Nothing, Pet," he soothed, taking over for her trembling hands and finishing unfastening the buttons on her shirt. "But you were about to."
He could see her eyes glisten with unshed tears in the candle light as he slid the shirt from her shoulders. "What? What was I about to do?"
Spike closed his eyes and breathed. Had to be honest. She had to know how important it was to control it. "Your sis."
"What about Dawn?" Buffy snapped defensively, grabbing his wrist as his hands came away with her tattered bra. Guess he had still had a little demon of his own during their tryst in the crypt.
"Buffy," Spike breathed, working her jeans down her legs. "She had a wound on her arm. Opening a portal for Anya, I'd wager. I'll talk to Red about that tomorrow. You were scenting her."
Buffy blinked, her eyes growing impossibly larger and more afraid. "I was what?"
"Scenting her," Spike explained, turning around and turning off the water. He helped her to the edge of the tub and held her steady as she climbed in. "Looking for a meal."
She looked at him from the deep pool of bubbles, blinking, her heart racing in her chest. "I wanted to. eat my sister?"
Spike had to chuckle, if for no other reason than to release the tension. "No, Pet. But you were attracted to the blood. Craved it. Unfortunately, need it," he continued, lifting the mug back up. "You have to drink it, Pet. "
Her head wagged side to side, the tears being forced out by movement alone. "No, Spike. I. I can't drink blood. I.I won't."
"You have to, Love," Spike whispered, kneeling by the tub. "If you don't, the demon will keep searching for its next meal. I don't fancy it either. Not especially around the lot of you. Knowing you think it makes me less. less of a man." His face was solemn, his own fear just behind his eyes, making them glitter in the pale candle light. He knew that he'd always be seen as different, if not by her than by the rest. Even the other demons that inhabited their circle of friends. He was the only obvious one. The only one that had to consume the essence of life to survive.
Buffy's heart grew heavy in her chest. Understanding *him*. Understanding. "Spike, I don't."
"There was a time when you did," Spike answered, his own eyes filling. He had to be strong. Don't let her down. Don't let her see your weaknesses. Not now. "But I understand, with your blood in my veins, your light, Pet, why. Why you saw it that way."
She looked at his blue eyes swimming up from pooled tears. "You think I'm a monster because of my own blood? My. Slayer?"
Spike shook his head as vehemently as he could with bruises aching at the base of his skull. "No, Love. You're not a monster. But I can see why you thought I was."
"You're not, baby," Buffy whispered, her damp hand brushing his cheek with unending tenderness. He held her hand there a moment, closing his eyes, feeling her. Clinging to her.
"Neither are you, Pet," Spike whispered, lifting the mug to her. "Please," he said, nodding at the contents.
She hesitated a moment, taking the still warm mug from his hands. "I don't know if I can."
Spike nodded, pushing himself to his feet. "I'll leave you alone, Pet. Don't have to do it in front of me. Don't have to let anyone see it. Just have to do it."
Buffy jumped in the tub, fear clenching around her heart like a vice. "Spike, don't go. Please don't leave me. I feel. I feel like I can't.I can't control it when you're not here. I can barely when you are."
Her voice was shaky. Desperate. Her hand shot out to grab his, dropping the mug to the floor, letting it shatter against the tile in a spray of crimson. His eyes shot to her, feeling the beast rising inside of her. Rising. Taking her light. "Pet, no," Spike whispered, pulling off his t- shirt, the tears beginning to drizzle down his cheeks in silver trails. "Please, fight it."
Her body shook and her eyes closed, hands clenching at the sides of the tub. She was breathing slowly, trying to push it down. She was losing. He was losing her. Spike slid out of his jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor with her clothes and shoes, and climbed in with her. If he could hold her, bind her, do *something* to keep her anchored to him, maybe she wouldn't fade away. Spike knew she could fight any Vampire, any one on the planet, and win. But this one was inside of her. Buffy was lost as to how to fight. How to win. How to survive.
"Buffy?" Spike asked, facing her in the tub, his knees bent, his feet on either side of her hips. She just sat still, eyes shut, breathing. He took her chin in his hand, pulling her closer so her legs slid on top of his. "Buffy, Love?"
Her eyes flickered open and they were golden, glowing back at him like a wild animal, her own green fighting to swim to the surface. She was losing. "Spike?" Buffy whimpered. Her voice. It was her voice with the monster's eyes. It shattered his soul. Their soul.
Her nose twitched in the air.
The blood.
She smelled the blood on the floor. It was bringing the demon out of her. Making her insane for food. For that which kept her, kept them, alive.
"It's all right, Love," Spike whispered, pulling her closer. Human tears dripped from her inhuman eyes and his heart broke, watching her change. Watching her fight. Watching her lose. They never lost. Never. But now.
"I don't know what to do," Buffy sobbed, wrapping her hands around his neck tenderly. Her body was still hers, but it was taking her over, inch by inch. Had to drive it down. Had to make it stop.
"Come to me, Pet," Spike said quietly, fighting his own panic and pulling her until she sat butterfly in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist, his low around her hips. "Stay with me," he whispered, beginning to rock her, locking them together. Trying to connect them again. Find their balance. She moved against him, her sobs ringing out against the cold tile. He stroked her back as they moved, whispering to her. Trying to calm her. Tethering her to him.
"Spike," she breathed, her wet cheek pressed to his. "Spike, I'm so. I can't.."
"It's all right," he reassured, bringing her face back to his, still rocking her. He stared in her eyes. "You have to drive it down. Have to satisfy it for now."
Her voice trembled, her thighs clenching around his waist. The bath water swayed gently with them, splashing onto the floor. "How?"
His eyes caught hers in a gentle stare and softened, willing her to come back. Willing her emerald eyes to stare back at him in their intimate embrace. But only the beast stared back. "You need to eat."
"I spilled it," she stuttered, her voice all panic and fear. "I spilled the blood."
He cradled her cheeks in his palms, searching her pretty face, not sure she'd ever recover from this even if he did get her back, but he had to try. Had to push it back. Her light. Her blood. It was in him. Maybe if he could give it back. Share it. Maybe he could save her from this horror. "Love," he breathed, drawing her face to the curve of his neck as a mother brings a newborn to her breast.
Her head darted up, staring at him with wild and incredulous eyes. "Spike, I."
"Pet," he whispered, kissing her damp cheeks. He could kiss her face all day and never get all of her tears. "You have to. Drink."
"I. I can't," Buffy whispered, her face contorted in disgust and terror, tears streaming down in icy rivers.
"You must, love," Spike answered. "You have to satisfy it until you learn to control it or until we switch it back. You need to take back some of yourself. You don't, you put them in danger," he whispered, nodding at the door. "You don't satisfy your hunger, how can you know who you will be drawn to next? Your sis again? Emma? Will?"
Her eyes grew wider with horror and her body shook on top of his. "Spike," she whispered desperately, "I can't."
"Shh, Pet," he comforted, drawing her chest flush with his, letting her cool, wet cheek rub against his. "Shh."
He kissed a trail down her cheek, her jaw, her neck, finding the big pulse just below the skin. Slowly, he bit down on her with blunt, human teeth, letting his jaw work as if he were drinking her, feeding.
Her body followed suit. Spike could feel her tears strike his skin just before her lips, both soft and cold and trembling. He held her back, stroked her, forgave her before she found the pulse. Hoped she would forgive herself.
The feel of her mouth clamping down on him made him want to yell for mercy. She hadn't formed true fangs, so it wasn't a neat puncture. She literally ripped, tore, the skin away with her teeth, opening his neck to the air and her mouth. Spike did everything he could to quell the rising scream as he suckled her neck, trying to ease her mind. Prove that she was no different than him. But her mouth tore at him, her body rocking at a frantic pace on his, drinking him, taking him, using him.
Tears slid down his face, tumbling down her back like silver rivers. It wasn't the pain. It was the fear. The fear he'd never have her back. Not now. Still, he loved her. Still, he wanted her with every fiber of his being. Even as the beast took his blood and his body as if they were nothing but a possession. It wasn't her. It wasn't Buffy tearing his throat out and taking his body. It was him. It was his own demon. It was everything that he'd hated and the only part of him that made her truly, deathly afraid.
And now it was in her.
The light slid away from him like a cool, black satin curtain being tossed over his fire. The satin brushed his face and the feeling of her squeezed around his body moving furiously, the feeling of his own blood pumping out of his veins in the same frantic rhythm, moved away. Spike slid under the dark curtain, whispering while he still could.
"Buffy." His voice seemed choked and foreign, as if it hadn't even come from him. "Buffy, you have to stop. Love," he whispered.
And he slid underneath the veil of darkness.
To be contd...