Buffy/Spike fanfiction[5/19/03] Post season 6 (All characters belong to
Whedon and ME)
STAY, UNTIL THE SUN RISES: AT LAST
For nearly two months, Spike roamed the planet aimlessly as though he were floating through some sort of surreal dream--or nightmare, where his present fused with his crimes of past to create a new reality for him. But in his soul, among the alien madness and the tears he'd shed as he'd cower in filthy alleyways or temporarily douse them out with alcohol in dim-lit, smoky bars, something had nudged him, told him he was ready to return to Sunnydale.
And there he sat, on the stone bench outside his crypt; his senses already acclimated to the muffled energy of the sealed hellmouth. The clothes he wore were dirty and wrinkled, hiding the visible scars and bruises, most of them self inflicted and fresh. He let his head go limp; hoping the nocturnal sounds filling the night would keep his unseen pain of the terrible images in his mind at bay. When tears threatened behind his eyes, he wondered why again he decided to come back here.
From far behind, that's how Buffy saw him; his head low, back to her, and shoulders slumped as if too tired to fight gravity. The sight of him stopped her at mid-stride, then she stared keenly to make sure her mind wasn't playing another one of its cruel jokes on her. Dawn followed in tow, but she didn't notice Buffy had stopped, and ran into her shoulder.
"Buffy?" She wasn't able to read what was on her face, something along the lines of disbelief. When she didn't answer, Dawn turned her attention straight ahead where Buffy had hers. She didn't hesitate once she registered in was Spike sitting there sadly. Before Buffy could stop her, Dawn was already walking towards him with a determined purpose in her gait.
Buffy stood at a safe distance from Spike, and watched Dawn as she crossed her arms and spoke to him with enough fire in her voice to burn. "So, decided to show your face around here again, huh, Spike?"
He had protected Dawn--or tried to as much as he possible could, and without question would do so again in a finger snap because she wasn't just Buffy's little sister, but he also cares about her. It hurt that she has such ill will against him, but he felt it well deserved. He turned his chin. "Nibblet," he merely said over his shoulder.
"Dawn," she said through gritted teeth as he rose to face them. "Don't call me that ever..." Something in them gentled when they saw all of him. "Again," Dawn finished, dropping her arms at her sides, not so confident anymore.
He looked haggard and disturbed as though he crawled around the earth twice on his hands and knees. His hair was a mass of brown and mess, and what remained of his peroxide blond was faded behind his head and in the tips that fell over his forehead. There were some healing cuts over his face and his knuckles were bruised and calloused. The green army jacket he wore was too big for him, or maybe, Buffy thought, he had just lost a lot of weight. But it was his eyes that seized her the most. They were hollow around the edges and that glittery blue seemed to tremble. He'd been crying.
His voice was raspy and thick. "Whatever you say. Dawn." He forced a weak smile, then looked at her sister. He wanted to collapse. "Hello, Buffy."
"Spike." Her reply was neutral.
Dawn couldn't help concern weigh on her, but no matter how thin and weary he seemed, she straightened and re-crossed her arms, remembering he was still the one who almost raped her sister. She side stepped, blocking his gaze from Buffy. "No." Defiance was regained, and this time she wouldn't lose her grip. "No, back off."
He lowered his chin in understanding as Buffy intervened. "Dawn."
"You touch her, I'm not afraid to stake you. I'll do you in right now. I already slayed me three vamps in the last hour and I'm hyped up for more."
"Be my guest. I won't stop you." The hopeless tone in his voice caught Buffy.
She stepped up; put her hand on Dawn's arm. "Dawn, c'mon. Leave him alone."
Being dragged by the arm, Dawn continued her taunts from over her shoulder. "You're lucky she stopped me."
"Dawn. C'mon." She looked back once and saw Spike turn towards the door of his crypt and bang his head against it. "Hold on. You stay here."
Dawn knitted her brows in confusion. "What? Why?"
Buffy's gaze was still curiously fixed on Spike as he stumbled into the crypt. "I'm going to find out what's up with him."
"No, Buffy." She fumbled for an excuse. "What if I get attacked?"
"It's pretty slow tonight," her voice trailed off. "If anything does happen, scream and remember what I taught you."
"Well, I don't remember. Can't you..." She gave up, "show me," she said to the air.
Buffy heard crashing in his crypt, and the closer she got with each wary step, it grew louder. She now stood in the doorway, a spill of moonlight on the floor before her, and scanned cautiously for him. "Spike?"
More breaking. More shatters.
"Go away." He strained beyond the dark.
"Spike? Where have you been?"
"Gone."
"Yeah. I got that." Her movements careful, she walked forward. Furniture was turned over, broken pieces scattered.
"I should've never come back. I thought I could. I thought I could face you again. What was I bloody thinking!" He ended by flinging something glass to the wall.
He surfaced from the shadows, and she saw he'd taken off his jacket, revealing badly marred and bruised skin. Slashes tore his arms and burn marks peeled. "What happened to you? Your arms..." She reached to touch them, but flinched when he grabbed the nearest table and tossed it across the room.
"Go away Buffy. Just get the hell away." He brought his head to his hands, turned his back and wept away from her.
"Spike. Spike! I'm not leaving until you tell me what happened to you." Her voice was solid as she pulled at him, but he broke free of her grasp as he staggered to the wall. "Stop it!" Yanking at his shoulder, he turned so that his back was against the wall. She was close enough now to see the color of his bruises and the depth of the cuts in the silver light, close enough to wonder what other horrors lie under his black shirt where it was once a playground for her mouth. "Spike." Her breath brushed the back of his hands.
"He made it look so easy." He said weeping, muffled and wet through his hands. "I don't know how Angel did it. It hurts. What I did...What I did to you...To all those..." He slid his hands down his face, as shock paralyzed her. At the realization, she shoved herself away from the wall as though she was burned, backed up in panic almost tripping over furniture. When her balance steadied, she stared in awe and confusion through blur of her tear sprouting eyes. "Buffy, it was for you." Palms up, he lifted his arms, then dropped them as he sagged lower to the shadowed floor, sobbing.
"Your...soul," she managed through quivering lips. Her heart sank into its own shadows when a tear drop over flowed and tracked her face. Her breath slowed and the only clear though in her mind was to run. And she did.
"Hey. What happened?" Dawn said as Buffy rushed past her.
"We're going home."
"What happened with Spike?" Dawn struggled to keep up with her speed. "Buffy?"
But Buffy ignored her as tried to get away from the sobbing.
**********
Pacing into the house, Buffy headed directly to the living room knowing Dawn would close the front door after them. Dawn called out to her sister, but Buffy was already lost in thought, staring blankly at the unlit fireplace, watching everything Spike has ever been to her flash in her mind. From the enemy, to the stalker, the warrior, the lover. The attacker. And always, always the vampire who she had relentlessly persecuted. But somewhere between the swinging of fists and the caressing of fingers, he had been someone who understood parts of herself that was blind even to her.
Both their actions would not go unrecognized. He had a soul now, and from the haunted eyes and the mauled body, he had suffered to acquire it. No longer able to grapple with guilt and longing, she shut her eyes and surrendered to it. "I'm going back."
"Why? What for?" Dawn asked while following Buffy to the coat rack.
"I'll fill you in later. Now, you're just gonna have to trust me."
Dawn blocked herself between Buffy and the door and crossed her arms. She wouldn't back down and be closed off from her sister again. "I'll trust you if you tell me."
"Ok," she huffed out in a complying breath. "You know how Spike and I used to..." She couldn't find the appropriate words.
"...have crazy, off the wall monkey sex? Yeah, you told me."
"It wasn't..." She shook her head at the interpretation and continued. "Fine. Well, that was wrong. I should've never treated him that way."
"What do you mean? What about when he wanted to rape you?"
She ignored the memory that shivered through her. "What I did to him all those months was just as bad. I used him, I-I took advantage of him because I believed his feelings weren't real."
"How do you know they are now? You said it yourself, he's a vamp..."
"He has a soul," Buffy interrupted as Dawn's face shifted and paled; her chest swelling with remorse and rendering her speechless. "Yeah, I said the same thing. And it was for me Dawn." Tears glazed her eyes. "He did it for me. I have to go back." She cleared her throat, wiped a tear with the back of her hand. "I need to see if he'll be alright. Not just for him, but for me too."
"Ok." Dawn simply said and ran passed her up to her room. Buffy let her go and turned the knob. "Buffy." She turned and saw Dawn standing at the top of the staircase fiddling with her fingers. "There's some pigs blood in the back of the refrigerator. It's not fresh, but if you heat it up, I think it could be ok."
Buffy managed a wry smile as she looked proudly and appreciative at her little sister. "I think so too."
**********
It was deathly quiet when she walked into his crypt carrying a bag slung over her shoulder. The place looked abandoned, but she knew he was there and noticed his leg jutting out from the side of the sarcophagus. She emptied the contents from her bag on to a ledge, pulling out a thermos, a first aid kit and candles with matches. "It's better if you'd have just kept away," he said through the dark silence.
He heard the heels of her shoes click louder towards him. She lowered and offered him a warm cup of blood. "Dawn thought you could use this." The smell livened his senses.
"Dawn? So she doesn't want me left for dead in the California sun. Not that I would blame her." He gulped down the blood, the chugging sound floating into the air.
"No one wants you dead." She went to retrieve a first aid kit, pulling out gauze and alcohol.
"That so? Hey! Wha-what are you doing?" He started to scrambled away from her when she crouched in front of him and dabbed a burning cloth to his wounds.
"Relax, relax." She put the cloth down and touched a hand to his wrist in a gesture of peace. "I'm only trying to help you."
He banged his forehead to the concrete and shivered as though he feared the monster in his closet escaped. "I don't deserve it! You need to leave." He convinced himself he didn't, so much that when she looked upon him with sympathetic eyes or gentle touches, it was torture for him all over again.
She inched closer to him, tears tracking his face glittered in the slant of moonlight. "Yes." She whispered, "you do." He brought his shaky gaze to hers and out of all the emotions he couldn't name passing in those green eyes, he saw apology. "Let me help you." She swept soft fingers to his forehead. Wordless, he gathered himself up, her at his side to keep him from swaying. He eased on to the sarcophagus, the scent of vanilla drifting into his senses. "Lie down and get some sleep. You're home now," she said as she patted the pillow under his head and unfurled the blanket left by Clem from his stay here.
He stared up at her. "Am I?"
"Yeah," she said absently while reaching for the first aid kit, not knowing how much her simple comment valued to him. "And when you wake up, tell me everything."
He watched her mend and examine the cuts on his arms. "It could be after morning."
Her eyes flicked to his. "I'll wait." Then his body went lax under her hands, and wandered into a deep sleep where nightmares plagued him. But she had stayed with him through the screams, even after the sun rose.
**********
(I'm sooo disappointed in myself. I think for now I'm just going to stick with short ficlets. Thanks so much for reading!!)
STAY, UNTIL THE SUN RISES: AT LAST
For nearly two months, Spike roamed the planet aimlessly as though he were floating through some sort of surreal dream--or nightmare, where his present fused with his crimes of past to create a new reality for him. But in his soul, among the alien madness and the tears he'd shed as he'd cower in filthy alleyways or temporarily douse them out with alcohol in dim-lit, smoky bars, something had nudged him, told him he was ready to return to Sunnydale.
And there he sat, on the stone bench outside his crypt; his senses already acclimated to the muffled energy of the sealed hellmouth. The clothes he wore were dirty and wrinkled, hiding the visible scars and bruises, most of them self inflicted and fresh. He let his head go limp; hoping the nocturnal sounds filling the night would keep his unseen pain of the terrible images in his mind at bay. When tears threatened behind his eyes, he wondered why again he decided to come back here.
From far behind, that's how Buffy saw him; his head low, back to her, and shoulders slumped as if too tired to fight gravity. The sight of him stopped her at mid-stride, then she stared keenly to make sure her mind wasn't playing another one of its cruel jokes on her. Dawn followed in tow, but she didn't notice Buffy had stopped, and ran into her shoulder.
"Buffy?" She wasn't able to read what was on her face, something along the lines of disbelief. When she didn't answer, Dawn turned her attention straight ahead where Buffy had hers. She didn't hesitate once she registered in was Spike sitting there sadly. Before Buffy could stop her, Dawn was already walking towards him with a determined purpose in her gait.
Buffy stood at a safe distance from Spike, and watched Dawn as she crossed her arms and spoke to him with enough fire in her voice to burn. "So, decided to show your face around here again, huh, Spike?"
He had protected Dawn--or tried to as much as he possible could, and without question would do so again in a finger snap because she wasn't just Buffy's little sister, but he also cares about her. It hurt that she has such ill will against him, but he felt it well deserved. He turned his chin. "Nibblet," he merely said over his shoulder.
"Dawn," she said through gritted teeth as he rose to face them. "Don't call me that ever..." Something in them gentled when they saw all of him. "Again," Dawn finished, dropping her arms at her sides, not so confident anymore.
He looked haggard and disturbed as though he crawled around the earth twice on his hands and knees. His hair was a mass of brown and mess, and what remained of his peroxide blond was faded behind his head and in the tips that fell over his forehead. There were some healing cuts over his face and his knuckles were bruised and calloused. The green army jacket he wore was too big for him, or maybe, Buffy thought, he had just lost a lot of weight. But it was his eyes that seized her the most. They were hollow around the edges and that glittery blue seemed to tremble. He'd been crying.
His voice was raspy and thick. "Whatever you say. Dawn." He forced a weak smile, then looked at her sister. He wanted to collapse. "Hello, Buffy."
"Spike." Her reply was neutral.
Dawn couldn't help concern weigh on her, but no matter how thin and weary he seemed, she straightened and re-crossed her arms, remembering he was still the one who almost raped her sister. She side stepped, blocking his gaze from Buffy. "No." Defiance was regained, and this time she wouldn't lose her grip. "No, back off."
He lowered his chin in understanding as Buffy intervened. "Dawn."
"You touch her, I'm not afraid to stake you. I'll do you in right now. I already slayed me three vamps in the last hour and I'm hyped up for more."
"Be my guest. I won't stop you." The hopeless tone in his voice caught Buffy.
She stepped up; put her hand on Dawn's arm. "Dawn, c'mon. Leave him alone."
Being dragged by the arm, Dawn continued her taunts from over her shoulder. "You're lucky she stopped me."
"Dawn. C'mon." She looked back once and saw Spike turn towards the door of his crypt and bang his head against it. "Hold on. You stay here."
Dawn knitted her brows in confusion. "What? Why?"
Buffy's gaze was still curiously fixed on Spike as he stumbled into the crypt. "I'm going to find out what's up with him."
"No, Buffy." She fumbled for an excuse. "What if I get attacked?"
"It's pretty slow tonight," her voice trailed off. "If anything does happen, scream and remember what I taught you."
"Well, I don't remember. Can't you..." She gave up, "show me," she said to the air.
Buffy heard crashing in his crypt, and the closer she got with each wary step, it grew louder. She now stood in the doorway, a spill of moonlight on the floor before her, and scanned cautiously for him. "Spike?"
More breaking. More shatters.
"Go away." He strained beyond the dark.
"Spike? Where have you been?"
"Gone."
"Yeah. I got that." Her movements careful, she walked forward. Furniture was turned over, broken pieces scattered.
"I should've never come back. I thought I could. I thought I could face you again. What was I bloody thinking!" He ended by flinging something glass to the wall.
He surfaced from the shadows, and she saw he'd taken off his jacket, revealing badly marred and bruised skin. Slashes tore his arms and burn marks peeled. "What happened to you? Your arms..." She reached to touch them, but flinched when he grabbed the nearest table and tossed it across the room.
"Go away Buffy. Just get the hell away." He brought his head to his hands, turned his back and wept away from her.
"Spike. Spike! I'm not leaving until you tell me what happened to you." Her voice was solid as she pulled at him, but he broke free of her grasp as he staggered to the wall. "Stop it!" Yanking at his shoulder, he turned so that his back was against the wall. She was close enough now to see the color of his bruises and the depth of the cuts in the silver light, close enough to wonder what other horrors lie under his black shirt where it was once a playground for her mouth. "Spike." Her breath brushed the back of his hands.
"He made it look so easy." He said weeping, muffled and wet through his hands. "I don't know how Angel did it. It hurts. What I did...What I did to you...To all those..." He slid his hands down his face, as shock paralyzed her. At the realization, she shoved herself away from the wall as though she was burned, backed up in panic almost tripping over furniture. When her balance steadied, she stared in awe and confusion through blur of her tear sprouting eyes. "Buffy, it was for you." Palms up, he lifted his arms, then dropped them as he sagged lower to the shadowed floor, sobbing.
"Your...soul," she managed through quivering lips. Her heart sank into its own shadows when a tear drop over flowed and tracked her face. Her breath slowed and the only clear though in her mind was to run. And she did.
"Hey. What happened?" Dawn said as Buffy rushed past her.
"We're going home."
"What happened with Spike?" Dawn struggled to keep up with her speed. "Buffy?"
But Buffy ignored her as tried to get away from the sobbing.
**********
Pacing into the house, Buffy headed directly to the living room knowing Dawn would close the front door after them. Dawn called out to her sister, but Buffy was already lost in thought, staring blankly at the unlit fireplace, watching everything Spike has ever been to her flash in her mind. From the enemy, to the stalker, the warrior, the lover. The attacker. And always, always the vampire who she had relentlessly persecuted. But somewhere between the swinging of fists and the caressing of fingers, he had been someone who understood parts of herself that was blind even to her.
Both their actions would not go unrecognized. He had a soul now, and from the haunted eyes and the mauled body, he had suffered to acquire it. No longer able to grapple with guilt and longing, she shut her eyes and surrendered to it. "I'm going back."
"Why? What for?" Dawn asked while following Buffy to the coat rack.
"I'll fill you in later. Now, you're just gonna have to trust me."
Dawn blocked herself between Buffy and the door and crossed her arms. She wouldn't back down and be closed off from her sister again. "I'll trust you if you tell me."
"Ok," she huffed out in a complying breath. "You know how Spike and I used to..." She couldn't find the appropriate words.
"...have crazy, off the wall monkey sex? Yeah, you told me."
"It wasn't..." She shook her head at the interpretation and continued. "Fine. Well, that was wrong. I should've never treated him that way."
"What do you mean? What about when he wanted to rape you?"
She ignored the memory that shivered through her. "What I did to him all those months was just as bad. I used him, I-I took advantage of him because I believed his feelings weren't real."
"How do you know they are now? You said it yourself, he's a vamp..."
"He has a soul," Buffy interrupted as Dawn's face shifted and paled; her chest swelling with remorse and rendering her speechless. "Yeah, I said the same thing. And it was for me Dawn." Tears glazed her eyes. "He did it for me. I have to go back." She cleared her throat, wiped a tear with the back of her hand. "I need to see if he'll be alright. Not just for him, but for me too."
"Ok." Dawn simply said and ran passed her up to her room. Buffy let her go and turned the knob. "Buffy." She turned and saw Dawn standing at the top of the staircase fiddling with her fingers. "There's some pigs blood in the back of the refrigerator. It's not fresh, but if you heat it up, I think it could be ok."
Buffy managed a wry smile as she looked proudly and appreciative at her little sister. "I think so too."
**********
It was deathly quiet when she walked into his crypt carrying a bag slung over her shoulder. The place looked abandoned, but she knew he was there and noticed his leg jutting out from the side of the sarcophagus. She emptied the contents from her bag on to a ledge, pulling out a thermos, a first aid kit and candles with matches. "It's better if you'd have just kept away," he said through the dark silence.
He heard the heels of her shoes click louder towards him. She lowered and offered him a warm cup of blood. "Dawn thought you could use this." The smell livened his senses.
"Dawn? So she doesn't want me left for dead in the California sun. Not that I would blame her." He gulped down the blood, the chugging sound floating into the air.
"No one wants you dead." She went to retrieve a first aid kit, pulling out gauze and alcohol.
"That so? Hey! Wha-what are you doing?" He started to scrambled away from her when she crouched in front of him and dabbed a burning cloth to his wounds.
"Relax, relax." She put the cloth down and touched a hand to his wrist in a gesture of peace. "I'm only trying to help you."
He banged his forehead to the concrete and shivered as though he feared the monster in his closet escaped. "I don't deserve it! You need to leave." He convinced himself he didn't, so much that when she looked upon him with sympathetic eyes or gentle touches, it was torture for him all over again.
She inched closer to him, tears tracking his face glittered in the slant of moonlight. "Yes." She whispered, "you do." He brought his shaky gaze to hers and out of all the emotions he couldn't name passing in those green eyes, he saw apology. "Let me help you." She swept soft fingers to his forehead. Wordless, he gathered himself up, her at his side to keep him from swaying. He eased on to the sarcophagus, the scent of vanilla drifting into his senses. "Lie down and get some sleep. You're home now," she said as she patted the pillow under his head and unfurled the blanket left by Clem from his stay here.
He stared up at her. "Am I?"
"Yeah," she said absently while reaching for the first aid kit, not knowing how much her simple comment valued to him. "And when you wake up, tell me everything."
He watched her mend and examine the cuts on his arms. "It could be after morning."
Her eyes flicked to his. "I'll wait." Then his body went lax under her hands, and wandered into a deep sleep where nightmares plagued him. But she had stayed with him through the screams, even after the sun rose.
**********
(I'm sooo disappointed in myself. I think for now I'm just going to stick with short ficlets. Thanks so much for reading!!)