A/N: Wow, this took a really long time to type up. Several sections of
this chapter are the sole conception and property of Mariann, who
helped me beta this story in the first place. She was gracious enough
to let me use it, and I will warn you that the material is slightly
disturbing and graphic and completely AU.
Spike's jaw was open so wide, it was practically resting on his chest. The shock ran that deep. When he'd left that day, almost three years ago, he'd had not idea what had gone down after he'd gone. When the world hadn't been sucked into hell, he assumed that Buffy had found a way to stop Angelus. In any scenario he'd come up with, they'd never ended with Buffy sending a re-souled Angel to hell. No wonder the Slayer had trouble trusting men. After a trauma like that, who could really open themselves up to someone else?
Suddenly, Spike felt a pang of sympathy laced with understanding for Buffy's most recent ex. Captain Cardboard was not his favorite person, and would probably never be, but he understood why he'd done what he'd done. He didn't condone Finn's actions with the vampire trolls, or his splitting town on Buffy, and Spike knew that if he had ever had any kind of shot with the girl, he would never even dreamed of screwing it up.
Glancing at the diary entry again, he re-read the last couple of lines, especially the last one.
"It's over."
Those two words conveyed Buffy's hopelessness. The Slayer had left town, her tail between her legs, fresh from an argument with her mother and a confrontation with Angel. Spike never knew that she'd left town either. It was one of those things that her friends never brought up, mostly because they'd have to admit that her leaving had probably pissed them off.
Spike started flipping pages in the diary, skimming pieces of entries. He tried not to comment out loud at some of the passages, in fear of waking Dawn. When he read about what Giles and the Council of Wankers had subjected Buffy to on her eighteenth birthday, Spike got so angry he vamped out and growled loudly. He was lucky that Dawn was a heavy sleeper. He skimmed farther a head, pausing to read the entry where he'd discovered his chip. She spared him no insult. He grinned. That was his girl all right. Well, he could dream, anyway.
He kept reading, flipping ahead when the entries seemed boring or mundane, and he paused at the start of the entry dated a couple of months ago.
Dear Diary,
Another typical night in Sunnydale. Vampires, patrol, Bronze. My mom had a semi-good day, and with Giles to look after her and Dawn for a few hours, I set out to do my job. Getting out of the house didn't help though. I can't seem to shake the dream I had last night. I've never been so frightened in my whole life. I'm so wigged, every little noise has made me jump today. I'll never forget the screaming...
My mom screamed as she awoke to find a creature standing over her with a solemn but deadly expression on his face. She screamed for me again, and again, but I never appeared. My mom thrashed in her bed as she tried to disentangle herself from the covers. She was unable, weak from the tumor. The creature continued to stare at her with a mouth full of fangs. His arms came down and pinned her wrists above her head, all the while she screamed for me. I was the only one who could save her, but I still didn't come.
Annoyed with my mom's constant screaming, the vampire backhanded her across the face. Her lip split from the force of the blow. A grin crossed his face as she cried out in pain and terror. It was then that I realized I had made a deal with creature, and that the reason I saw all this is because I was watching it from the doorway of her room. I turned my back, as if not seeing it would make it go away. My mom screamed once more before a second blow silenced her. She stared at the ceiling in a daze, to weak to move or make a sound. With fangs razor sharp and hungry, the vampire leaned over her and drained all but a little bit of the blood running through her vains.
"It was her idea." He whispered, gesturing to me. My mother's head turned slowly and she stared blankly in my direction, a sob sounding from her bleeding throat. He grinned again as he lifted her wrist to his mouth and tore open the vein. He opened her mouth and laid his wrist against upon her lips, chuckling with he felt my mother's lips put pressure on the wound and begin to drink eternity from his veins.
How I saw all this with my back turned was beyond me, but the image is ingrained into my mind. As the flow of blood from his wrist slowed, my mother exhaled violently and collapsed, her body cooling as death swept over her. He surveyed his handiwork, before turning to me with her blood coating his lips and teeth. As he walked towards me, desire spread through my limbs.
"You wanted this." He mocked, rocking back on his heels. In the blink of an eye, he whirled me around. I stared at him, his face and teeth dripping with my mother's blood. I glanced at my mother's body on the bed and grinned. I looked up at Spike, and pulled his head towards mine.
Sticking my tongue out, I slowly began lapping at what was left of my mother's blood on his face. Once his face was clean, I ravished his mouth with my tongue, trying to get every last precious drop of her blood. He grinned like a mad man as I broke the kiss.
"Your turn." He said, as he lowered his face quickly and struck at my neck with his fangs. I wrapped my legs around him, and tried to pull him deeper...
That was when I woke up. I'm surprised my screaming didn't wake mom or Dawn. I'm trying to deal with the fact that this may not have been a dream, but a prophecy. I so wigged, I can't even tell Giles. I'm stuck, trying to prevent something that may or may not happen. Worst of all, I have to deal with what to say to Spike. The image of his fangs buried in my mother's throat is imprinted on my retina.
Spike's jaw was open so wide, it was practically resting on his chest. The shock ran that deep. When he'd left that day, almost three years ago, he'd had not idea what had gone down after he'd gone. When the world hadn't been sucked into hell, he assumed that Buffy had found a way to stop Angelus. In any scenario he'd come up with, they'd never ended with Buffy sending a re-souled Angel to hell. No wonder the Slayer had trouble trusting men. After a trauma like that, who could really open themselves up to someone else?
Suddenly, Spike felt a pang of sympathy laced with understanding for Buffy's most recent ex. Captain Cardboard was not his favorite person, and would probably never be, but he understood why he'd done what he'd done. He didn't condone Finn's actions with the vampire trolls, or his splitting town on Buffy, and Spike knew that if he had ever had any kind of shot with the girl, he would never even dreamed of screwing it up.
Glancing at the diary entry again, he re-read the last couple of lines, especially the last one.
"It's over."
Those two words conveyed Buffy's hopelessness. The Slayer had left town, her tail between her legs, fresh from an argument with her mother and a confrontation with Angel. Spike never knew that she'd left town either. It was one of those things that her friends never brought up, mostly because they'd have to admit that her leaving had probably pissed them off.
Spike started flipping pages in the diary, skimming pieces of entries. He tried not to comment out loud at some of the passages, in fear of waking Dawn. When he read about what Giles and the Council of Wankers had subjected Buffy to on her eighteenth birthday, Spike got so angry he vamped out and growled loudly. He was lucky that Dawn was a heavy sleeper. He skimmed farther a head, pausing to read the entry where he'd discovered his chip. She spared him no insult. He grinned. That was his girl all right. Well, he could dream, anyway.
He kept reading, flipping ahead when the entries seemed boring or mundane, and he paused at the start of the entry dated a couple of months ago.
Dear Diary,
Another typical night in Sunnydale. Vampires, patrol, Bronze. My mom had a semi-good day, and with Giles to look after her and Dawn for a few hours, I set out to do my job. Getting out of the house didn't help though. I can't seem to shake the dream I had last night. I've never been so frightened in my whole life. I'm so wigged, every little noise has made me jump today. I'll never forget the screaming...
My mom screamed as she awoke to find a creature standing over her with a solemn but deadly expression on his face. She screamed for me again, and again, but I never appeared. My mom thrashed in her bed as she tried to disentangle herself from the covers. She was unable, weak from the tumor. The creature continued to stare at her with a mouth full of fangs. His arms came down and pinned her wrists above her head, all the while she screamed for me. I was the only one who could save her, but I still didn't come.
Annoyed with my mom's constant screaming, the vampire backhanded her across the face. Her lip split from the force of the blow. A grin crossed his face as she cried out in pain and terror. It was then that I realized I had made a deal with creature, and that the reason I saw all this is because I was watching it from the doorway of her room. I turned my back, as if not seeing it would make it go away. My mom screamed once more before a second blow silenced her. She stared at the ceiling in a daze, to weak to move or make a sound. With fangs razor sharp and hungry, the vampire leaned over her and drained all but a little bit of the blood running through her vains.
"It was her idea." He whispered, gesturing to me. My mother's head turned slowly and she stared blankly in my direction, a sob sounding from her bleeding throat. He grinned again as he lifted her wrist to his mouth and tore open the vein. He opened her mouth and laid his wrist against upon her lips, chuckling with he felt my mother's lips put pressure on the wound and begin to drink eternity from his veins.
How I saw all this with my back turned was beyond me, but the image is ingrained into my mind. As the flow of blood from his wrist slowed, my mother exhaled violently and collapsed, her body cooling as death swept over her. He surveyed his handiwork, before turning to me with her blood coating his lips and teeth. As he walked towards me, desire spread through my limbs.
"You wanted this." He mocked, rocking back on his heels. In the blink of an eye, he whirled me around. I stared at him, his face and teeth dripping with my mother's blood. I glanced at my mother's body on the bed and grinned. I looked up at Spike, and pulled his head towards mine.
Sticking my tongue out, I slowly began lapping at what was left of my mother's blood on his face. Once his face was clean, I ravished his mouth with my tongue, trying to get every last precious drop of her blood. He grinned like a mad man as I broke the kiss.
"Your turn." He said, as he lowered his face quickly and struck at my neck with his fangs. I wrapped my legs around him, and tried to pull him deeper...
That was when I woke up. I'm surprised my screaming didn't wake mom or Dawn. I'm trying to deal with the fact that this may not have been a dream, but a prophecy. I so wigged, I can't even tell Giles. I'm stuck, trying to prevent something that may or may not happen. Worst of all, I have to deal with what to say to Spike. The image of his fangs buried in my mother's throat is imprinted on my retina.