Domestic Shadows
By SinisterChic & MsQuey
A/N: This story follows cannon up until our hero's final battle with the First. From there on, for the sake of this fic, the plot line is completely AU except for the fact that the Scoobies and Potentials still kick the First's evil ass and Sunnydale collapses in on itself. Just forget that Spike ever died . . . or that he ended up at sodding Wolfram & Hart with that poof Angel. (Sorry, channeling Spike. evil eyebrow grin)
Disclaimer: Neither SinisterChic nor MsQuey own any of the original characters of BtVS. They intend no copyright infringement and humbly ask that those that do own them do not sue them . . . You wouldn't get much anyway. They do however claim ownership to any and all original characters introduced within this story.
(This chapter written by SinisterChic)
Chapter 2
Buffy lay awake and listened to the quiet of the house. She was afraid to go to sleep because she didn't want to wake up and discover 'he' had gone for good. She both longed and dreaded for the sound of his return home. Home? No. Home was a place someone belonged. And he would, if only he'd let himself. But ever since the battle with The First, Spike had become distantly aloof. He avoided Dawn almost altogether, and herself . . . The sweet smiles that passed before them those last few months in Sunnydale were gone. He never even looked at her anymore. It was as if he had shut down. As if he really hadn't made it out of the hellmouth. Not all of him, anyway. She wondered if that was how she had been after crawling out of her grave: a walking zombie. Okay, maybe that was exaggerating a bit. Spike wasn't a zombie, he was just so . . . not Spike. It wasn't until their spat that night that the big bad persona had finally come back out to play.
'You wish I were dead!'
She shut her eyes. Oh, how he was wrong about that. Ever since arriving in Maine nightmares had plagued her slumber. They transported her back to the school. She saw the light stream out of Spike, but instead of throwing off the necklace in the nick of time he was set on staying to the bitter end. She protested, begging him to come with her. He told her no, that he needed to do the clean up. She refused to go without him. Then before her eyes, he began to disintegrate into blackened ash. She reached out, as if she could somehow hold him together, but it was in vain. The dream always caused her to wake up screaming. She'd have to get out of bed and make her way down to the basement door. She'd reach out and press her palm above the knob. Her slayer senses could always feel him, and it soothed her fears. Soon she wouldn't be able to do that. She'd have no way to distinguish dream from reality. No proof that he was all right.
There had to be a way to persuade him to stay. She knew one guaranteed way but she knew she wasn't ready for that. Would she ever be ready for that?
The good thing about fighting demons was that there was no tomorrow. She only had to worry about the present because the future might not even come. Now she had to face it. People expected her to know what she wanted. Are you going back to college? Do you really want to make being a councilor your career? You can get married and have kids now, Buffy. She had strived for years for this. To have choices. But actually being given freedom, she didn't know what to do with it.
One thing was certain, however. Buffy wasn't ready for Spike not to be there. She felt whole around him- even with his moodiness as of late. He was part of her home, her family, him and Dawn. Xander, Willow, and Giles were part of her family as well, but they seemed light-years away. They called and talked, but their bond-ness had vanished. When something happened in her life, to tell them was an afterthought. Her first inclination is to confide in Spike. No matter which road she chose she knew that she desired him to walk down it with her. He supported her and gave her strength like no other. He was such a huge chunk of her life. If he left sure she'd manage. She had learned to be strong from her slayer duties. But . . . it would be hard.
She needed Spike. But it wasn't just him bundled in a package, other things accompanied him. He fit in with the night. He had to have his rough and tumble before bedtime. Wherever he lived there would be bags of pigs blood in the fridge. He'd leave dirty, red stained mugs in the sink. He'd sneak cigarettes out on the porch, and the smoky scent would linger on the leather duster that seemed glued to his form. She needed Spike, but she also needed normal. Those two were unmixy things.
Sure there was a way to make him stay for good. . . But she just couldn't bring herself to do it. To say it.
Buffy rolled over and brought the comforter closer to her chin. She felt cold. She wished Spike was there to hold her. She missed that. He might be a vampire, without any temperature, but he somehow had always filled her with warmth.
The girl was having trouble keeping up with the brisk pace, because of her short legs. She had to keep up. If she didn't . . . She clung to her mother's hand tighter.
"Mommy, where are we going?" the little girl asked.
The woman slowed down slightly. She turned toward her daughter. Her breathing came rapidly. "Rebecca, I'm not sure." Her soft brown eyes became wet.
Rebecca reached upward. The woman knelt down, wrapping her arms around the five-year-old. She held the girl tightly, the act reciprocated.
"I'm so scared, Mommy," Rebecca cried. She buried her head in her mother's chest.
The woman stroked Rebecca's brown hair. "Me too, baby. Me too."
"Will. . . Will they get us, like they got Daddy?" the child questioned.
Sobbing took over the woman's body. She trembled at the fresh memory of her husband's death.
"Don't cry." Rebecca whispered. She hated to see her mommy sad.
The woman shook her head. She dried her eyes. "Not your fault, Becca. And no, the mean men won't get us."
Rebecca kept quiet. She knew her mother was lying. They weren't men at all, they were monsters. They wanted to kill them, and they were close. She could feel them.
Ever since Rebecca could remember she had seen monsters. Many young children claimed that goblins lived under their bed or hid in the closet. This was different. Rebecca saw things no child should have to witness. She saw teeth and claws rip people apart. Her parents and the child psychiatrist told her it wasn't real, that it was all in her imagination. Rebecca wasn't a dumb kid. Unicorns and fairy tales were fantasy. Just because what she saw wasn't happening right in front of her face didn't mean it wasn't happening somewhere else.
Then the monsters came for a visit. She not only saw them, but she could smell the foul stench of them. One even breathed on her. Her parents couldn't deny the truth of her visions any longer. Her father even died protecting his little girl from the very things he had been set on not believing.
Rebecca raised her head. Her eyes were huge as if she sensed something. "We need to run!" she shouted.
The mother swooped up her daughter and ran. She looked up at the night sky and whispered a prayer for God to save Rebecca. Not for herself, she was unimportant.
"We need to go faster!" Rebecca demanded. She clung to the woman in fright.
Out of the shadows, leapt a dark form. He came into view. Glowing golden eyes lit up from his grotesque face. He snarled at them.
The woman put Rebecca down, moving in front of her. She was ready to protect the girl until death if need be. The woman reached into her pocket and drew out a cross. She held it toward the vampire. He laughed, and kicked it out of her hand.
A panicked expression whitewashed the woman's face. Seeing her weakness, he grabbed her shoulders. She struggled in his clutch, but he was far stronger. He jerked her roughly and leaned down. His fangs sunk deep into her throat, sucking the red liquid that ran through her veins. The coppery blood slid into his mouth, and he drank it up hungrily.
Rebecca let out a piercing scream. The demon was draining her mother and there was nothing she could do.
Spike walked down the deserted street, lost in his thoughts. He was trying to decide where to go now that he decided to skip town. He figured he should go as far away from his slayer as possible. There was no temptation to come back that way. He'd be out of her life for good. The best thing for the both of them. All they did was muck of each other's existence.
Maybe he'd try Australia. In all his years he'd never set foot on the continent. He could imagine himself wrestling a giant crocodile. He licked his lower lip in excitement while he pantomimed what he'd do to a beasty like that.
He was jarred out of his reverie when a scream pierced his ears. On automatic, he ran toward the sound. He ended up in a dark alley. His night vision took in a vampire draining a woman.
"I don't think so, mate," he called out.
Spike pried the vampire off the woman. She fell to the ground in a heap. The vampire looked up at him and growled from having his meal interrupted. He sent a punch Spike's way.
To the vampire's amazement, the hero's features shifted. Spike's face became that of his own kind.
"You're William the Bloody!" the vampire accused.
Spike grinned. "Yeah, heard of me I take it."
"You fight your own kind, you're disgusting!" the vamp spat.
"Didn't know my fandom had hit this coast. Too bad you won't be around long enough for an autograph."
Spike took hold of the vampire's neck. In one clean movement he twisted it off. There was a snap of bone, then a burst of ashes.
He was about ready to leave, he had done his job. But then he heard the sobs, and he made the mistake of glancing back. The little girl hugged her still mother. She raised her head. Wetness gleamed on her cheeks. "She's dead," she stated.
Spike was frozen. He should leave, not his problem. Except, something nagged at him, preventing him to. Damnit, that sodding soul was quite the bother sometimes.
Spike gave in, stepping over to the little girl. "You got anyone to go home to, bit?" he questioned. He lowered to one knee.
She shook her head. "No, they got daddy before."
God, why did his chest swell? He was William the Bloody, slaughterer of hundreds, executioner of two slayers; and here he was, feeling for a child. Oh, who was he kidding? He had always had a soft-shot for the young ones. Even when he was a 'human' blood-sucker, he never hunted them. Dru wanted to, but he steered her away from the idea. Told her the bigger, the more feed.
The child pointed to the sky. "It will be light soon."
That was when Spike realized his game-face still showed. He put his human mask back on.
He studied the girl with curiosity. "Why you not scared of me? I'm the same as that pile of dust over there?" he said. He pointed to the remains of the vampire he'd slain.
Rebecca stood up from her crouch. "No, you aren't, you're different. I saw you in my dreams."
Sorrowfully, Spike replied," You're wrong. I'm a demon just like him. I've done terrible things. Far worse than he ever did."
"You aren't. I saw you protect me," she stated.
"Bloody hell!" Spike exclaimed.