Title: Consumed
By: Leather
Series: None
Pairing: Spike/Dru, hints of Dru/Angelus(but not in the nice way)
Rating: R
Archive: Sure. Email me the link so I can see what you did with it ok?
Summary: As punishment for refusing to tell Darla a vision, Angel decides to take matters in his own hand. Dru tries to figure out love.
Author's Note: First Spike/Drusilla story. I wanted to give my try in it, and it's told in Dru's Point of view. Really short, but
enjoy! ;)
Xena@compuage.com
Consumed
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I lay on the sheet, whimpering in fright. But oh no, Daddy doesn't pay much attention to that does he? He is looming over me,
face set angry Lil' lines over his features. Like a mad, rabid puppy dog. Grrr.
"You're a bad girl Drusilla." I hear him say. At times, I can will myself to shut off everything, so I can't feel all the pain. I do that,
and the fairies take me away. They cover me up with their wings of gossamer and take me to soft fluffy clouds where nothing
ever hurts me again.
"No." I protest softly, shaking my head. "I was good."
"You didn't tell Darla what you saw in your vision, so you were bad."
Hmm. Grandmum. She wouldn't have liked that vision much I'm afraid. Grandmum never liked anything I could see. But she
wanted me for the power, the bright stinging power.....
I whimper, pleading with Angelus but he has no heed. I feel myself being shackled to the bed, feel the whip bite down on my
flesh. I close my eyes, delving into that other me, the one he....
Loves?
No.
Consumes.
Yes, fitting word. He consumes me, my little Angel, with his twisted darkness that bites me like long teeth in the night. Like my
own when they come out to play. Cut here cut there. Consumed by his fieriness. But I don't blame him.
And when it's over, I'm shaking, throat raw from screaming, body raw from the whip marks. I lay on the white sheets stained
with blood, the blood he made me bleed...and I feel hands on my body.
Soft hands.
Hands of love. But how can hands love so well? I hear him whisper my name, those hands sliding up and down my body, careful
of the whip marks. "Oh Drusilla." He whispers. I look up into clear blue eyes--not brown ones--blue ones. The pain has eased,
and now he's the one who looks to be in pain.
My boy. My little Spike.
"William." I whimper, holding my arms out to him. He doesn't even correct me for saying his name wrong. He just embraces me,
his lips so cold against me. This the Funny thing about love I suppose. About being consumed by it.
Angel consumes me.
I consume Spike.
I wonder, who will he consume?
END.
