Disclaimer: Nope, don't own none of it.
Three months prior…Spike's mind began to grind into motion even before his eyes opened. In those few moments that he lay in the darkness of his own consciousness, memories of the last few days swam before him as if a movie was being fast-forwarded through his head.
Flash. The bathroom. Buffy's bathroom. His passion for her twisting inside him as he towered over her. Her surprise turning to frustration…her frustration turning to fear. Fear of him…Oh God…
Flash. He ran from her house, Buffy's frightened expression ripping at his insides. The look of betrayal in her eyes worse than any physical blow she'd dealt him. Soulless monster…
Flash. He packed what little he had, the pain of what he had just attempted to do still crashing mercilessly against him like waves. Oh God, Buffy… I'm so fucking sorry! He knew it was no use. He'd proven his true nature. She was right about him all along. His head spun as he kick-started the motorcycle, vowing that she would get what she deserved in the end, though even he didn't know for sure what he meant by that. A large part of him believing that the best thing to do would simply be to continue on down through the desert until the sun rose and put an end to it once and for all; an even larger part too devastated to even think further into the future than that night. Likely enough the Scoobies had found her by now and were hot on his trail with a sharp piece of wood and a healthy lust for retribution. He didn't blame them. One way or another, this night would be the end of him… What do you have left to live for? The only one who could tolerate the sight of you at all was her… it was always her…
Flash. He aimlessly careened down the highway outside of Sunnydale for what seemed like ages (or mere minutes?) until his motorcycle began running out of gas. The sunrise wasn't going to be for a while yet. Not that he cared… his unlife was the last thing on his mind.
Flash. He pulled in to a gas station, his emotions having run him ragged, leaving him hollow and numb, moving as if in a trance as he filled up his tank. Worthless… worthless… not a man, just a worthless monster…
Flash. A tap on his shoulder was followed shortly by the feeling of knuckles connecting with his jaw, disorienting him. The searing pain of a needle made him cry out as it was unexpectedly jabbed into the soft flesh of his side… And voices…male… one especially familiar, though it was hard to place…
That's when the world collapsed around him as hit the cold ground and knew no more.
Spike's eyes shot open, but the nightmare had just begun.