Chapter 1
Authors Notes: Please please please review, this is my first ever fanfic. I won't make a second chapter unless I get reviews. SO PLEASE!!! Sorry if it seems really depressing right now, I promise it'll pick up.
*~* But well you can't refuse
and you just can't choose
what she's gonna do
I said you can't refuse
and you just can't choose
what she's gonna do Well scratch scratch
She's clawing at the door
Oh no I can't stick anymore
Crack crack
I feel so sore
I never should have asked for
Black leather black leather
Black leather black leather *~* Spike stumbled drunkenly on his way home from Willy's. Finding himself laying facedown with his feet in the air, he mumbled into the dirt "Sodding tombstone, bloody fuckin' Slayer..." He spat out a blade of grass as he slowly, laboriously pulled himself to his knees.
Glaring at the offensive tombstone, his face suddenly went from furrowed with anger to ridden with guilt. "Sorry Joyce, sorry mum, so sorry..." He brushed off the tombstone that spelled out the name 'Joyce Summers' in cold, impersonal letters. Kneeling in front of the tombstone, Spike said, "I know you hate that language Joyce. I promise on my...my... oh hell-I mean, ah bloody hell. I'll try to swear less. Yeh, that'll do. Ain't got nothin' to promise on, that's for sure, no honor, no bible, probly burn anyway, no soul..." Leaning on the tombstone for support, and fully intending to leave, he found himself just looking down upon the cold stone. "That's what she wants, a soul..."
"She's in me now mum. Running through my veins, bloody shrieking with glee 'bout the havoc she is wreckin' on me, on my soddin' sanity. Heh, still a poet." Spike chuckled. "Anyway she's got it so hard now, with that Glory bitch on her tail, and you gone. Sorry bout that by the way, you being gone and all." He slowly, again with the aid of the tombstone sat again, cross-legged this time in a more comfortable position.
He sighed, and then realized what he was doing. The sky and the night were shocked when he burst into full laughter, since they were the only ones bearing witness. Still giggling, he continued. "Sorry bout that, just bloody funny I'm talking to a fucking tombstone. You Summers women are that way, yeh know? Suppose you do..." Spike swiveled around and leaned against the tombstone, his black-clad legs spread in front of him. "Bit too. You raised 'em right Joyce, no matter what you think. And you did raise Dawn, 'm sure of it, even if she is a bloody key or whatever the hell she is. She's still a girl, your girl. You did a bloody good job, enough for a evil, bloodsuckin', soulless, big bad, good-for-nothin'..."
Spike's rambling slowly drifted off, as he stared unfocused into the night. "A good-for-nothin' me to love 'em anyway." Suddenly sober, as it the alcohol had fled from his veins in the presence of such a lady, dead or no. "Night Joyce." Spike said, before he slouched off into the night. )()()()()( A couple of yards away, a little blue-eyes key crouched behind a tombstone, her mouth covered by her pale hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. Apparently the ability to eavesdrop quite well ran in the family.
Sniffling, assured that the vampire was gone, she stood and brushed off her jeans. Slowly, she turned and walked in the opposite direction, her hands shoved sullenly in her pockets. Buffy would be wondering where she was. No, not where SHE was, Buffy would wonder where the Key was. She walked down the concrete street, the streetlights leaving pools of dirty yellow, staining the pure black ground. She turned onto Revello drive, and saw that the tiny house in which seemed so empty now had no lights on. So maybe Buffy hadn't missed her. Dawn slowly opened the door, wincing slightly when it creaked. Carefully, she closed and locked it, not like that would do anything against a hell god. Jesus, she thought to herself, normal girls didn't live in constant fear. Quickly, she sprang up the steps. About to disappear into the darkness and sometimes suffocating sanctities of her room, she stopped when she heard a small whimper come from the other room. Her brow furrowing in confusing, she walked to Buffy's room and slowly opened the door.
Buffy lay there, thrashing and writhing, her sheets tangled about her legs. Tears stained her pillow and ran down her cheeks in streams of glitter. Dawn hesitated, reading somewhere that you don't interrupt nightmares. Or maybe you do...shit, how could I forget, Dawn berated herself. She didn't move, but listened when she heard Buffy begin to speak.
"No...no-please, just not...no!" Buffy cried, whimpering and curling into a ball before jerking again. "Mommy..." Dawn's breath caught in her chest when she barely heard the uttered whisper. "No please, don't hurt her...Mommy! Oh god, Dawnie..." Dawn's breath completely stopped then, but she didn't notice as she watching in fascinated horror. "Dawnie, oh god stop don't hurt her...Dawnie I'll rescue you...no, Willow! Xander, oh god your eyes...the blood!" Dawn was now crying to, silent sobs shaking her small body. "Giles...Daddy no they can't...she can't!!! Spike! No, not him, anything..." Dawn just stood there, shocking, and ran in just as Buffy screamed.
)()()()()(
Buffy was so lost. Everywhere was bleeding, and hurting and...Dawn! Buffy suddenly was awakened, by a soothing green light stroking her sore head. "Its okay Buffy, shhhhh, its all a dream..." Buffy looked into her sister's eyes, and wondered when they became green. Finally, she was completely awake, and breathing slow, and she remembered.
"Oh God Dawnie, Glory had Mom and Xander and Giles, and Xander had no eyes, and her scabby bitches, they-they raped you and-and Willow and oh God she took her whole hand and stuck it in his chest..." Buffy babbled frantically, her eyes shooting all around the room, all her Slayer adrenaline pumping through her body.
"Its okay Buffy, its okay you're here, we're safe..." Dawn said again, slowing and Buffy's heartbeat slowed again. "Who did Glory stick her hand into Buffy?" Dawn finally asked, her mind still racing from the hell that Buffy described. If it was this wretched for her, just thinking about those horrible things, then how must it have been for Buffy, who had been there mind and soul?
"It-it was Spike..." Buffy finally whispered, confusion and sobs shaking her body. She couldn't handle any more of these dreams, her body was a Slayers but her mind was just a girls. Finally, she fell asleep with her head in Dawns lap, leaving her kind-of sister to think.
Authors Notes: Please please please review, this is my first ever fanfic. I won't make a second chapter unless I get reviews. SO PLEASE!!! Sorry if it seems really depressing right now, I promise it'll pick up.
*~* But well you can't refuse
and you just can't choose
what she's gonna do
I said you can't refuse
and you just can't choose
what she's gonna do Well scratch scratch
She's clawing at the door
Oh no I can't stick anymore
Crack crack
I feel so sore
I never should have asked for
Black leather black leather
Black leather black leather *~* Spike stumbled drunkenly on his way home from Willy's. Finding himself laying facedown with his feet in the air, he mumbled into the dirt "Sodding tombstone, bloody fuckin' Slayer..." He spat out a blade of grass as he slowly, laboriously pulled himself to his knees.
Glaring at the offensive tombstone, his face suddenly went from furrowed with anger to ridden with guilt. "Sorry Joyce, sorry mum, so sorry..." He brushed off the tombstone that spelled out the name 'Joyce Summers' in cold, impersonal letters. Kneeling in front of the tombstone, Spike said, "I know you hate that language Joyce. I promise on my...my... oh hell-I mean, ah bloody hell. I'll try to swear less. Yeh, that'll do. Ain't got nothin' to promise on, that's for sure, no honor, no bible, probly burn anyway, no soul..." Leaning on the tombstone for support, and fully intending to leave, he found himself just looking down upon the cold stone. "That's what she wants, a soul..."
"She's in me now mum. Running through my veins, bloody shrieking with glee 'bout the havoc she is wreckin' on me, on my soddin' sanity. Heh, still a poet." Spike chuckled. "Anyway she's got it so hard now, with that Glory bitch on her tail, and you gone. Sorry bout that by the way, you being gone and all." He slowly, again with the aid of the tombstone sat again, cross-legged this time in a more comfortable position.
He sighed, and then realized what he was doing. The sky and the night were shocked when he burst into full laughter, since they were the only ones bearing witness. Still giggling, he continued. "Sorry bout that, just bloody funny I'm talking to a fucking tombstone. You Summers women are that way, yeh know? Suppose you do..." Spike swiveled around and leaned against the tombstone, his black-clad legs spread in front of him. "Bit too. You raised 'em right Joyce, no matter what you think. And you did raise Dawn, 'm sure of it, even if she is a bloody key or whatever the hell she is. She's still a girl, your girl. You did a bloody good job, enough for a evil, bloodsuckin', soulless, big bad, good-for-nothin'..."
Spike's rambling slowly drifted off, as he stared unfocused into the night. "A good-for-nothin' me to love 'em anyway." Suddenly sober, as it the alcohol had fled from his veins in the presence of such a lady, dead or no. "Night Joyce." Spike said, before he slouched off into the night. )()()()()( A couple of yards away, a little blue-eyes key crouched behind a tombstone, her mouth covered by her pale hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. Apparently the ability to eavesdrop quite well ran in the family.
Sniffling, assured that the vampire was gone, she stood and brushed off her jeans. Slowly, she turned and walked in the opposite direction, her hands shoved sullenly in her pockets. Buffy would be wondering where she was. No, not where SHE was, Buffy would wonder where the Key was. She walked down the concrete street, the streetlights leaving pools of dirty yellow, staining the pure black ground. She turned onto Revello drive, and saw that the tiny house in which seemed so empty now had no lights on. So maybe Buffy hadn't missed her. Dawn slowly opened the door, wincing slightly when it creaked. Carefully, she closed and locked it, not like that would do anything against a hell god. Jesus, she thought to herself, normal girls didn't live in constant fear. Quickly, she sprang up the steps. About to disappear into the darkness and sometimes suffocating sanctities of her room, she stopped when she heard a small whimper come from the other room. Her brow furrowing in confusing, she walked to Buffy's room and slowly opened the door.
Buffy lay there, thrashing and writhing, her sheets tangled about her legs. Tears stained her pillow and ran down her cheeks in streams of glitter. Dawn hesitated, reading somewhere that you don't interrupt nightmares. Or maybe you do...shit, how could I forget, Dawn berated herself. She didn't move, but listened when she heard Buffy begin to speak.
"No...no-please, just not...no!" Buffy cried, whimpering and curling into a ball before jerking again. "Mommy..." Dawn's breath caught in her chest when she barely heard the uttered whisper. "No please, don't hurt her...Mommy! Oh god, Dawnie..." Dawn's breath completely stopped then, but she didn't notice as she watching in fascinated horror. "Dawnie, oh god stop don't hurt her...Dawnie I'll rescue you...no, Willow! Xander, oh god your eyes...the blood!" Dawn was now crying to, silent sobs shaking her small body. "Giles...Daddy no they can't...she can't!!! Spike! No, not him, anything..." Dawn just stood there, shocking, and ran in just as Buffy screamed.
)()()()()(
Buffy was so lost. Everywhere was bleeding, and hurting and...Dawn! Buffy suddenly was awakened, by a soothing green light stroking her sore head. "Its okay Buffy, shhhhh, its all a dream..." Buffy looked into her sister's eyes, and wondered when they became green. Finally, she was completely awake, and breathing slow, and she remembered.
"Oh God Dawnie, Glory had Mom and Xander and Giles, and Xander had no eyes, and her scabby bitches, they-they raped you and-and Willow and oh God she took her whole hand and stuck it in his chest..." Buffy babbled frantically, her eyes shooting all around the room, all her Slayer adrenaline pumping through her body.
"Its okay Buffy, its okay you're here, we're safe..." Dawn said again, slowing and Buffy's heartbeat slowed again. "Who did Glory stick her hand into Buffy?" Dawn finally asked, her mind still racing from the hell that Buffy described. If it was this wretched for her, just thinking about those horrible things, then how must it have been for Buffy, who had been there mind and soul?
"It-it was Spike..." Buffy finally whispered, confusion and sobs shaking her body. She couldn't handle any more of these dreams, her body was a Slayers but her mind was just a girls. Finally, she fell asleep with her head in Dawns lap, leaving her kind-of sister to think.
