Titled: Stories of the Damned
Author: MeruMarsters
Summary: Spike/Willow fic, dramatic, angsty, and overall, a story of love. Kind of AU. Set right after "Smashed." after the prologue. Everything just sort of takes it's own course. Just go along with it and see what happens.
Disclaimer: I have no claim over any aspect of Buffy the Vampire Slayer whatsoever. BTVS is owned and copyrighted by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, et al. You get it. I'm merely a fan.
Feedback: Please. All happy little praises and constructive critisism will be noted and appreciated. All spiteful, and may I mention lame and really pointless flames will he sent to the poof in L.A. to be filed. Then, sent to a random hell demension that will be chosen by a pair of dice. Spooky, all knowing dice.
A/N: -sigh- Just go along with it.
I can see him. Really see him, not just what they think he is. I can see it. I can see what he did for her, I can see how it's destroying him. He doesn't deserve it. He. Doesn't. Fucking. Deserve it. I breaks me to look at him, to look at what he's done to rectify his past. And now I see what I never did before. He really is a lost soul, pun not intended. I always thought he was so determined, so put together, so very solid. And now, now with that terrible sadness in his eyes, I know he's just like me. So fucking lost, so fucking driven down by so many fucking expectations, so many fucking words that cut deeper than a blow ever could. So many.
He still loves Buffy, if not in the same way as before. He'll always love her. He'll always love Dru. It can't be helped. When he loves, he loves with all of his heart, or all that he has at least. There will always be those parts he can't have back. But he loves with all he possesses, that much is so very true. He can see what she did, she how used him. He understands now, even more than before. Even more than he did when he did this. He understands it really was her. The old Spike wouldn't have cared. The old Spike would have kept trying. The old Spike wouldn't have listened to her.
The old Spike was murdered in a fucking cave in Africa trying to get what he so desperately thought he needed.
The old Spike tried so hard.
This Spike is something completely different. He's not William. William died a long time ago. I think I would have liked William, from what Spike used to tell me about him. Those weeks that seem so very far away. That single night in which I fell in love with him.
Tara had left me with my addictions and my regrets. Buffy had left Spike with a broken heart and a soot-blackened crypt. These are the stories no one ever heard. These are the stories of me and Spike. My name is Willow Rosenburg, and these are the Stories of the Damned.