Songfic
By: RougeCrayon!
Set in season six after "As You Were"
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"It's over Spike. That's the end." Buffy said, trying to hold in the tears of relief, and sadness that threatened to flow. Buffy had finally decided.
"It can't be..." He tried to defend himself but she jumped.
"It is. It was never there to begin with! You are just a soul-less, 'thing' who I used. But I'm done. It's over." She finished. Disgusted at herself for putting him down so low. But she knew she had to, for him to get the picture.
-
She put him out
Like the burning end of a midnight cigarette.
She broke his heart
He spent his whole life trying to forget.
-----
"I-I wont b-believe y-you. I WON'T!" He yelled at her.
"Well, start! Face it Spike, you're beneath me." She finished quietly. She hit a nerve. Hanging her head low, she silently asked forgiveness. He turned his face to hide his misery.
"B-beneath you?" He asked, stunned. Tears were threatening to spill in his eyes now. "Fine" He managed to get out, shaking his hands as if he was giving up, he walked away, faking confidence and superiority, and as soon as he was out of sight. She broke down.
Walking back to his crypt, he put on a strong and fearful facade. But inside his unbeating heart wretched. He slammed his door open and stomped inside, pulling out his bottle of whiskey.
"Hello Jack!" He said miserably. "We meet again." And he started drinking. He wasn't even sober after that. He would come to Scooby meetings and the bronze drunk already. He always had an extra bottle of whiskey on him. The Scooby's knew that there was something going on with him, but Buffy always dismissed everything, saying he was fine.
Spike knew his drinking was out of control. But he didn't care. He liked like this. It numbed the pain. But no matter how drunk he would get, Buffy was always there. Her face. Her lips. Her body. Her voice. Her smell. Her gasps. Everything that made up the strong blonde he craved so much.
-
They watched him drink his pain away A little at a time. But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind. -
One night he gave up. He stopped drinking blood. The only thing going through his system was the horrible taste of straight-up whiskey. No ice. No chasers. Eventually he got weaker and weaker, becoming paralyzed and weak. Before he lost all feeling he wrote a note.
"Guy's have you noticed the lack of Spike lately?" Willow questioned the gang one day.
"Wills, have you noticed...who cares?" Xander shot back bitterly.
"W-willow's r-right guys. H-he's h-helped us alot." Tara defended.
"I'd have to agree." Giles put in. "He's normally hanging around following Buffy everywhere. Have you seen him?" He asked her.
"Me? No why would think I would." She answered all too quickly.
"You usually patrol with him. Maybe you should check in on him." Giles suggested.
"Fine, but he's probably alright." Buffy shrugged off the retching feeling she was getting because of the mention of the bleached blonde.
That night in patrol, at around midnight, she swung around to Spike's. Kicking in his door, like she's done so many times before. "Spike?" She called into the echo-y crypt. There was no answer. She went down to his bedroom, and when she saw him, she turned and threw-up. "Spike?" She cried. He was nothing but skin and bones. Empty bottles were surrounding him, at all sides. Then she saw the note.
--- Until the night... He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger. And finally drank away her memory. Life is short, but this time is was bigger then the strength he had to get up off his knees. They found him with his face down in the pillow. With a note that said I'll love her till I die. And they buried him beneath the willow. While the Angel's sang a whiskey lullaby. -
Crying, she flipped him over. His face was no longer the sculpted thing it had once been. It was now shriveled and incomplete. His eyes were glazed over and lifeless, and nothing in him moved. "Spike, say something!" She begged. It was her fault this was happening to him. She had to know he was alright.
"Finish" He managed the sound to come out, straining his voice. With pain and sorrow, she cried harder.
"I'm sorry." She whispered and drove the wooden stake quickly through his broken heart. His body became dust and she leaned on where he should have been and cried. She cried for hours.
(The next morning.) Buffy walked into the magic box with her purple bags under her eyes, and a stress ridden face. They all noticed at once.
"What happened?" Willow asked her. "Is it Spike?" Hiding her grief she answered.
"He's dead." She said. "Or gone. I found dust in his crypt and he wasn't there." Tara hung her head. Giles cleaned off his glasses.
"Did he kill himself when he finally got a clue, and Buff's not gonna go for him?" Xander quipped earning glares.
"B-but w-what if he d-did?" Tara asked.
They all grew silent. That night, Buffy went to Spikes crypt again. She sat on his now vacant bed, when she noticed a half bottle of whiskey sitting on the floor. She leant over and picked it up.
"Hello Jack." She choked out. Opening the cap, she took a sip, then a gulp. She drank the rest of the bottle, until she was stumbling home. Every night she bought more, drinking. This went on for a long time.
--- The rumours flew. But nobody knew how much she blamed herself. For years and years, she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath. -
It became a nightly thing, and though the Scooby's noticed, they never mentioned anything, afraid to bring anything up. Afraid of her sorrow. Eventually she started drinking during the day. But the sinking feeling in her stomach would not go away.
-
She finally drank her pain away a little at a time
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind
until the night.
-
She was tired of everything. Tired of the way her friends looked at her. Tired of the way everything was turning out. She hated the fact that nobody understood anything.
And she was tired of hearing silence instead of the drawling voice of Spike. Of being bored instead of bickering.
One night she decided to give up. Her friends didn't need her. The world didn't need her. They took her away from heaven. Spike took her away from hell. And they took away Spike. There was nothing left. So she took out a fresh bottle of whiskey and a bottle of Tylenol for the constant headache that was ringing through her ears.
(The next morning) "Buffy?" Willow called upstairs to her friend. "Buffy are you home?" Slowly walking up the stairs, Willow was frightened at the lack of response. "Buffy!" She yelled. Still no response came. Slowly opening the door, Willow was relieved to see that she was indeed at home, just fast asleep.
Only Willow found the lack of breathing a little bit distressful.
"Buffy? Answer me!" She cried. Tears started streaming from her face, as she ran over to Buffy wishing it wasn't true. She was face down, not breathing. Willow pushed with all her might to bring her face up, and when Buffy turned, something fell to the floor slowly.
Timidly, Willow bent down and found a picture.
"Spike?" She asked no one. "No! She can't be." Then she saw the bottle, with a small amount or drips left, the bottle of Tylenol, the picture of Spike from the watchers diary. She killed herself. Willow collapsed onto the floor and holding her knees, she cried.
-
She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away is memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees
We found her with her face down in the pillow
Clinging to his picture for dear life.
---
Two weeks later, the Scooby gang stood side by side at the cemetery that Buffy so often frequented. Only this wasn't at night, and Buffy was no longer alive. Willow made sure to bury her near Spikes remains, and she is still the only one who knows about the picture.
They all stood together in the shade of the willow tree. And they said goodbye to a loved and needed friend.
-
We laid her next to him beneath the willow
While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby
La la la la la la la, la la la la la la la.
La la la la la la la, la la la la la la la.
-
Fin.
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