Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: Feedback would be greatly appreciated; I want to know if I'm hitting the right tone with this story.


Nightmares


He tossed and turned in the large bed, sweat beading on his forehead as blood ran rampant through his dreams. A strained whimper escaped his throat as he found he couldn't escape the terror in his head.

He was chasing a figure down an alleyway, his footsteps silent on the wet ground. He jumped over a dumpster and grabbed a fire escape, flipping his body lightly through the air as he landed gracefully in front of his prey, grinning at her. His victim yelped and slipped, breaking a heel of her expensive looking shoes and landing on her backside in a puddle, her glamorous dress ruined by the fall. She'd scraped her arm somewhere along the way and he allowed the heady scent of her blood to curl around him and invade his senses.

The girl shrieked as he bent down, running a cold digit up her bare leg. She shivered and tears ran down her face. He smirked widely, a grotesque image on his twisted features. Licking a fang, he savoured the smell of her fear adding to the delicious aroma of her blood. It made his entire body scream in hunger and his hand gripped her leg, pulling her to him. She squealed and kicked out, twisting onto her stomach in the puddle in an effort to get away from him. He pulled her towards him, strong hands pulling her closer. She was crying in earnest now as he pinned her to the floor, running his left hand up her back and pulling her hair to the side.

Seconds later, her warm blood was sliding down his throat and her struggles lessened as he drained her life away. He exhaled deeply through his nose as he drank the last few drops of her life, dropped her head into the puddle as she died under his fangs. Then he stood up and adjusted his jeans, wiping the blood from his mouth and sparing her a cursory glance as he stepped over the body.

A voice from the end of the alleyway made him smile as he approached.

'My William…what a beautiful mess you've made.'

Spike bolted upright with a yell, breathing heavily and feeling sick to his stomach. He looked around, taking in his surroundings, sighing in relief as he saw he was still in the hotel room, a soft lamplight bathing the room around him. He wasn't in an alleyway, the culprit for a particularly brutal murder. And that woman…she must be Drusilla.

Why in the hell he'd asked Angel to tell him more about his past, he'd never know. All it had done was create more questions and give him a hell of a nightmare. He was too worried to go back to sleep now. A walk seemed more in order. The hotel was pretty big. He could probably have a wander without disturbing anyone.

He pulled on his jeans and a shirt and headed for the door, slipping out quietly. A quick look around the lowly lit corridor confirmed it was silent. He didn't know what the time was – there was no clock in his room. There was clock in the lobby, and whilst he'd hazard a guess that it was around three or four in the morning, he wanted to be sure. He only guessed it was that late as there were no slayers wandering around. There was a chance that Faith would be downstairs, but he didn't mind the attractive brunette.

An uncomfortable knot formed in his stomach as Buffy's name floated through his subconscious. From everything Xander had told him, he knew he had loved the girl enough to die for her. And the feeling he got whenever he thought of her name reinforced the information that he had been given. He'd seen pictures and knew it would take a very strong man not to love this woman.

He just wished that he could remember the moments with her. That he could put it straight in his mind.

The ongoing argument between Faith and the others about telling Buffy he was alive did not help. He didn't know what to do about it. He had sensed the vibe from Angel that his and Buffy's relationship had not impressed many people and given his past, he couldn't blame them. But surely she was grown up enough to make her own decisions. Saving the world on a nightly basis must give you some sense of responsibility for your own life surely?

He shook his head and tiptoed along the corridor and down the two flights of stairs to the lobby. It was silent down here too, and he clocked the time as 03:45am. He headed for the kitchen and fixed himself a glass of milk, before heading to the garden. It was cool and crisp outside in the LA night, and he found a bench and sat down, sipping at his milk whilst admiring the jasmine blooming beside him. It filled the air with a delicious scent, but for some reason he longed to smell vanilla.

'Couldn't sleep?' A voice made him jumped and he spilt cold milk in his lap, making his jeans cling to his legs uncomfortably. He frowned and looked over at the smirking source of the voice; Xander stood in the shadows of a tree. He stepped forward and took a seat next to the other as he cleaned up the mess. When he'd wiped off his jeans, he ran a hand through his dark blonde locks.

'No. Nightmares.'

'Yeah. I don't sleep much anymore. Dream of…her too much.'

'What was she like?' Spike asked, sipping at the milk again. 'You mentioned her a couple of times but you never said what she was like.'

Xander was silent for a moment, but not uncomfortably so; a small smile graced his lips. 'She was beautiful. Sometimes blonde, sometimes brown, sometimes a red head and sometimes a demon. But always beautiful. She was very forward, she never really had much in the way of tact. But to be honest, every time she said something in public that she probably should have kept to herself, well, I just loved her all the more. She made me laugh. She lit something inside me that I thought could never come back to life.'

'She sounds like quite the lady.'

'You thought so too at one point.' Xander chuckled. 'I was so angry at the time. But truthfully, I can understand how you couldn't resist her. And in a totally non-gay way, I can see how she couldn't resist you. I can admit you were aesthetically pleasing. Man to man of course.' Spike looked bewildered.

'Me and…your girl?' He tutted. 'I was a dick.'

'You were drunk and hurting. I did worse to her. Left her at the altar. Never did make it up to her.' Xander felt a familiar pain in his chest, the pain of a thousand regrets he had where it came to the former vengeance demon. 'She was so full of life. Her smile could light up a room. She loved such odd things. She was big into capitalism. And terrified of bunnies.' He sighed again. Doing that a lot lately. 'I miss her so much.' He whispered, feeling a tear leak from his empty eye socket. Spike cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable. Then, to Xander's surprise, he felt a hand pat him gently on the back.

'For what it's worth, mate, I'm sorry.' He removed his hand as Xander smiled softly. 'I wish I could remember more of what I'm sorry for. But I am.'

'Thanks Spike. Surprisingly…it means a lot.'

Neither of them spoke again.


The punching bag was the only outlet he could find to take his frustration out on. Faith had gone out on a scouting mission, and Xander had gone to do some grocery shopping with Willow and a couple of the younger girls. The other slayers avoided him like the plague and as far as he could tell, Angel was busy working at an evil law firm. Which confused him. But he wasn't going to overload his brain with any more information that necessary.

It was frustrating him a lot, knowing that he could accept all he'd been told so readily but not remember it clearly himself. The nightmares had continued when he'd attempted to get more rest after his chat with Xander. He'd dreamt of another girl; this one actually fought him back. She'd had an afro and a gorgeous leather coat that he'd eventually stripped off of her dead carcass after breaking her neck.

He shuddered at the memory of it. And then punched the bag harder.

Willow had been working spells on him all morning and she'd eventually hit a brick wall. Nothing mystical was holding his memories back, and during a phone call with Giles, she'd decided that the only thing holding his memories back was him and he'd only remember when he truly wanted to remember.

Problem was, with the nightmares and Angel's glaringly unedited version of pre-good Spike, he didn't think he'd ever truly want to remember who he had been.

Except…he wanted to remember Buffy. He wanted to remember the emotion and reasons why every time he pictured her face or thought her name, his stomach tied up into a thousand knots and butterflies. He was planning on asking Xander more about their relationship later on, but was nervous about asking after finding out exactly how much of a dick he'd been to the brunette over the years.

It wasn't like Xander hadn't explained that they'd done just as bad to him. The one eyed man had admitted that he had treated Spike in a less than charming fashion over the years, but the fact that he could wipe everything they had done to each other out of his mind to help the former vampire gave Spike no end of admiration for the man. He still couldn't quite fathom it.

He punched the bag once more and then grabbed it to hold it still, leaning his head against it. He sighed, feeling his stomach growling and telling him he was hungry. He pushed off of the bag and wiped his brow, bending to pick up his t-shirt. As he put it on, the sweat he'd worked up saturated it and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. He'd have to locate a clean shirt and a shower soon.

As he headed up the stairs to the lobby, the front doors opened and Willow trudged in, followed by two young slayers, their arms all full of brown grocery bags. Xander followed a few seconds later, his solitary eye looking wearily ahead. Spike nodded at him and then noticed the two girls had stopped chattering and were staring open mouthed at him. Willow giggled as Spike frowned.

'What?'

'Nice pecs.' One of the girls whispered hoarsely and he looked down, seeing that the sweat had made his white t-shirt practically see-through and his abdomen and all its minute details were on public display. He groaned and bolted for the stairs, leaving an amused Xander and three giggling women behind him.

Thirty minutes later he came downstairs with a black t-shirt on and freshly showered. The girls had disappeared but he could hear the sound of training in the basement and so decided that would off limits for the rest of the day. Willow was resting on the front desk and she smiled as he approached.

'You hungry?' She asked and he nodded. 'Xander is in the kitchen. I spoke to Giles again.' Spike paused, waiting for her to continue. She smiled that little shy smile of hers at him. 'He said he couldn't find anything to do with your resurrection in any prophecies. Said maybe it was just your reward for what you did. That the Powers maybe decided you needed another chance. It's definitely not the Shanshu, the one Angel was concerned about.' Spike had no idea what the Shanshu was and didn't really care either. 'So it looks like you're off the mystical hook. It's just a case of wait and see.'

'Thanks Red.' He smiled and walked off, not noticing the shocked look on Willow's face. She'd never told him his nickname for her.

Xander was busy stuffing a large turkey when he walked into the kitchen. He glanced up when Spike walked in and offered a smile of a greeting.

'You okay mate?' Spike looked down at the turkey and the fight the other man was apparently engaged in. 'Should you be doing that with an altered depth perception?'

'I got used to it. This turkey may possibly be evil.' Xander replied, forcefully stuffing the turkey with a fistful of sage and sausage meat. Spike winced.

'I don't think it deserves that treatment even if it is evil.' He said, moving to the fridge and grabbing the carton of orange juice in the side door. He grabbed a glass and poured himself a glass, sipping from it and pulling a face at the cold. 'So you're on dinner duty?'

'Yeah. You wanna give me a hand?' Xander asked, pointing to the vegetables lined up on the kitchen counter. 'Those need chopping.'

'No problem.' The former vampire put down his glass and moved over to the counter, grabbing a knife and setting to work. For a few moments there was only the sound of chopping and the mutilation of a dead turkey to be heard, until Spike stopped for a second. 'I don't know how to ask…could you tell me more? About Buffy? About us?'

Xander stopped and looked over at Spike. 'I guess I could. What did you want to know?'

Spike shrugged. 'Everything. Maybe something will jog my memory.' Xander nodded.

'Willow said that she'd spoken to Giles. A waiting game huh? That sucks.' He sighed and shoved another handful in the carcass before grunting in approval and washing his hands in the sink. 'I'm not sure where to start. You hated each other in the beginning. You were all "I'm gonna kill you" and she was all "Spike needs to die". Then after Angel went schizo, you and her made a truce to take him down. You weren't good, far from it. You were only doing it for Drusilla as far as I am aware.'

'My ex. Yeah. She's been in a few of my nightmares.' Spike took out his frustration on a carrot, sending a chunk flying across the counter and bouncing off the side of the fridge. He retrieved it as Xander chuckled.

'Yeah. The crazy one.' He paused for a second. 'Then you came back, drunk and that was the kidnapping incident I told you about before. Then you left, again, and when you came back it was with full intent to kill Buffy.'

'But I never succeeded.' Spike said, focusing on the vegetables he was massacring.

'You still tried to foil us at every turn. But if you ask me, you could never kill Buffy because you were too evenly matched. I guess it was inevitable you'd fall for her. Your relationship was always soured. We didn't help.' Xander grimaced. 'We didn't help at all. You did some stupid things, don't get me wrong. But the pinpoint of your change, that was when you protected Dawn. You got yourself tortured for her.'

'Glory.' Spike whispered, freezing with the knife in mid air.

'Huh?' Xander asked.

'Glory. I remember the name. I don't know anything else. Was she trouble?'

Xander nodded grimly. 'She was. Buffy died in the end.' Spike looked tormented by this. 'You stayed, fought by us all summer whilst she was gone. Protected Dawn. Protected all of us. And we were still jerks to you.' The brunette paused. 'I should have looked past my prejudice. You didn't have to stay. You never had to look after Dawn. But you did. All because you loved a dead woman. God, I was such a jerk!' He slammed his fist down and the tray he'd selected for the turkey bounced on the side. Spike jumped and slipped with the knife, cutting his finger. He hissed as blood dripped on the side, but the cut healed almost instantly, leaving pinkish skin in its wake.

The other man didn't notice, too wrapped up in his self-flagellation. 'When she came back…if only we'd noticed. If only we'd been better to you, to both of you. Expecting her to take everything up straight away, not giving her the support we knew she need. Maybe it would have turned out differently. You wouldn't have been driven to…' He stopped, wondering if he should divulge that particular incident.

'Driven to what?' Spike asked. Xander didn't reply. Spike put the knife down and turned to his companion. 'Driven to what, Xander? Don't keep it from me.'

'You and Buffy, things were violent between you. From what I understand, from what she's told me…you weren't entirely to blame. She said it herself that she'd given you so many mixed signals over the months you were together, it was as much her fault as it was yours.' He bit his lip.

'Xander. Tell. Me.' Spike ground out, clenching his fists together.

'You tried to…you nearly…but you didn't…' Xander couldn't force the words out. Two years before he would have told the vampire Spike straight, and told him exactly what he'd thought at the time. But now, after everything, after all the chats with Buffy, after seeing how Spike changed in that last year, he couldn't. But from the crushed look on Spike's face, he could tell the man got what he was trying to say. His mouth opened and shut, no words coming out, no words he could say in response. 'But that was what drove you to that final change. You got your soul for her. And whilst it took time to mend the rift between you, in the end, she loved you Spike. She told me herself. She still loves you now.'

'She shouldn't.' Spike whispered. 'Cos it seems to me that I'm still a monster.'

'Spike..' Xander reached out a hand to him, but the former vamp brushed it off and left the room. The one eyed brunette stood alone, wondering how in the hell he could fix this.