(A/N: Major thanks to Andrea for beta-ing this chap and thanks to everyone for reviewing me :D Btw, check out my site! See my profile for the addy and I'll love you forever if you visit it and tag me ;) )

Chapter 4: Revelation of Agony

Spike sat back on his chair slowly, swallowing hard on yet another bit of information about his past. In front of him, an ancient book was widely spread open, and an illustration of a familiar face was starring back at him. Neat writing informed him that he had killed two slayers. One was during the Boxer Rebellion in China and the other was in 1977, New York.

He let the data sink in, trying his best to grasp it. How could he kill slayers and fall for one? He thought she must be special. The moment he laid his eyes on her, he knew she wasn't any ordinary woman. She was a slayer, the strongest slayer, or so he had been told. Yet he had fallen for her despite the fact that he was supposed to eliminate her.

His gut twisted and he wanted to heave. Something was odd. Something had not been right between them. She said they had been happy. Had they? Was she telling the truth?

"Spike?" He snapped his head toward the quiet voice by the door. Pursing his lips together, he stayed quiet as Buffy approached him. She stood in front of him, leaning slightly against the desk, eyes filled with concern.


"You okay?" Spike only nodded. Looking down the open book, she acknowledged that he had been reading about himself when he had been once a bad ass, a well-known master vampire. Buffy looked back to him. He didn't look happy. "Do- Do you want to leave now?"

"Sure."

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The journey to the Hyperion Hotel was filled with uneasy silence. Buffy tried to make conversation, tried to brighten Spike's mood, but he simply responded with one or two syllables. She still could not surmise the reason of his behavior. Sure, he had read about those slayers he had murdered. So what was the big deal about that? It was in the past and he had changed. She had changed.

Buffy snapped herself out of her train of thought when she finally noticed that the car was no longer moving. Spike stepped out of the car and strode inside the hotel, leaving Buffy to follow behind.

"Spike!" She grabbed his arm; her patience was growing thin at his sudden quietness. "What's wrong? You've been awfully quiet ever since we left Angel's office."

"I'm fine, really. Nothing to worry about."  He jerked his arm away from her and pushed himself into the lobby. Just before he was about to place his foot on the first step of the staircase, he whirled around, causing Buffy to step back a little. "Buffy, were we happy? Before...when we were together, were we happy?"

"I-I've told you, haven't I?" She forced her tone to be as even as possible. She was aware he would someday question it again; she could see the doubt in his eyes.

"Are you telling me the truth? Don't lie, Buffy. I know you're not telling me everything. How-" He paused as he took a deep breath, attempting to contain his emotion, to push his confusion to the back of his mind. "How could you be happy with me? How could you be happy, knowing that I'd killed your kind?" He whispered his questions, eyes held so much desperation for the truth, for the whole truth, even if it would kill him for knowing it.

Buffy pursed her lips together, her jaws visibly ticked, and she was at a loss for words. Please don't ask me that. Not now. Not today. Not again. "You changed. You became a better man. You had been the one I trusted. And you'd always been there for me." She dared herself to look into his blue pools, fearing that he would find the hidden lies, the untold truth behind her eyes.

Spike's gaze lingered on hers for a moment before he finally nodded weakly. He looked tired, so many questions he wanted to ask and not a single one of them had a satisfying answer.

"You better get some rest. You look tired." Buffy suggested as she touched his elbow, ready to lead him to his room. She was taken aback when he pulled away and started ascending the staircase.

"You don't have to guide me. I'm not an infant." His voice had suddenly turned cold and startled her even more. Why was he being like this? One minute, he was a confused man, desperate for answers; then the next, he became cold and bitter. Her breath almost hitched up into a sob as she felt a gash scratching her heart in the middle. She forced a smile to surface even though he never turned around to see it.

"I'll get you some water then." Spike didn't answer, so she took it as an approval and walked toward the lobby counter.

As he reached the middle of the staircase, a pang of pain jolted inside Spike's head and started spreading like bacteria. Spike clutched his head in his hands, almost tempted to yank his hair to cease the pain. "No…not again. Oh god, not again." He mumbled.  His body slumped down and he struggled to lean against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot; he felt they were going to pop out. So, he attempted to close his eyes instead, hoping the pounding in his head would stop any minute.

The second his eyelids fluttered closed, he regretted his decision more than anything. It wasn't the blank space that he had expected to see in his mind. It was gruesome. Hundreds of people lay motionlessly on the ground, fire blazing angrily, eating up the buildings around them. Children crying, women begging for mercy; men running cowardly, trying to save themselves. Who had done this?  He wondered.  It was only then that his silent question was answered as he saw four figures walking calmly, in spite of the chaos surrounding them. There were two people he recognized. But, the most shocking fact was that he was one of them. And he was laughing, gleefully as he strolled down the street and then swept the raven-haired girl beside him off her feet, kissing her with passion as if they had just won a battle. He was still laughing; laughing in celebration.

Oh god, did I do this? Killing hundreds of innocent people. Slaying them as if they were just wild animals. Spike couldn't bear listening to himself laughing over those dead bodies. The laugh was cruel, sadistic, brutal…inhuman. "No, that wasn't me. What had I done? That's not right. It can't be. It- arrghh!" Spike screamed when his foot tripped him, there was nothing for him to hold on to stop his body from rolling down the steps. As he finally met with the ground floor, he hit his head hard on the metal bar that was a part of decoration on the double doors. A fresh wound open on one corner of his forehead and blood started trickling down the side of his face.

"Spike! Oh my god!" Buffy shrieked, rushing towards him. "Are you okay?" She cradled him in her arms while he was still holding his head in agony.

"Make it stop, Buffy! Make this stop! Please..." He begged, burying his head onto her lap.

"Shhh...it's okay. I'm here. Everything will be fine." She assured him, as her hand gently stroked his curls. Buffy waited for a few minutes until he calmed down. "Come on. Let's get your wound cleaned up." She pulled away slightly before she wrapped her arm around him, helping him to stand on his feet.

As they entered the closest bathroom, near Angel's private office, Buffy sat him down on the closed toilet and then searched for a small towel and alcohol. She was too occupied looking for them that she didn't notice Spike had stood with his eyes wandering around the floor of the bathroom, focusing on the area around the bathtub. 

The shadow of male figure started surfacing, sprawling over a woman. She seemed to be squirming beneath him, struggling to be free while the man attempted to stop her effort.

Spike stared down numbly at the area next to the bathtub, where those shadows appeared before his eyes. Slowly, he began to recognize the couple on the floor, yet he tried to deny who they were. Those couldn't be...

"Please, please, Spike, please..."

"You'll feel it again, Buffy..."

"Please don't do this..."

"I'm gonna make you feel it."

Like a hard blow on his stomach, he flew across the bathroom. The sting of his fresh wound had been forgotten, now replaced by the gashes on his heart. It felt like some animal claws shredded his newfound beating heart with cruelty, leaving him to depend on his lungs for last minute breaths.

He clutched his chest; he couldn't breathe, choking out as he tried to respire. Buffy snapped her head to him. "Spike?" She wanted to approach him, but for every step she took towards him, he took one back, until he was to the point where his back was trapped against the wall.  Instead, Buffy followed his horrified gaze, which led to the spot near the tub.

Memories of two summers ago came flooding back. It was painful. It was traumatizing. It was tormenting. The way they hurt each other, physically and emotionally. She had tried to forget that, almost had forgotten about it. And almost succeeded forgiving herself for it, already forgiving him for it.

"It's okay, Spike. It's in the past. It doesn't matter anymore." Buffy took a tentative step towards him. She flinched when he moved further away from her with wild shakes of his head. His eyes...oh, his eyes that held so much fright, so much anguish. Unshed tears glistened each eye with the sorrow that had risen from the bitter memory. The way he looked, so lost, so confused. She had only seen that kind of look when she found out he had a soul for the first time.

"No...it IS NOT okay. It will never be okay. I'm a bad man, Buffy. I'm a VERY bad man. I'd never make you happy. We'd never been happy. We never would."

"No, Spike! You don't understand..." Her words rang faintly in his ears as Spike brushed past her, running from the bathroom and slamming the front door with a loud bang.

Buffy crumbled onto the floor at the entrance of the bathroom. Her emotional ache had taken up all of the energy that she would have used to run after him. She covered her face with shaky hands, droplets of tears slipping between her fingers as she choked on her sobs.

to be continued.