A/n – thank you everyone for the reviews ahh, I'm so sorry about the careless spelling mistakes, I go over my fics many times because I'm terrible at grammer and spelling, but I guess that's why I don't always notice the obvious. Hope that my mistakes don't ruin the fic, spelling is my weak point but I'm always trying to improve. :)

Chapter 7

"Nobody gets to kill the slayer but me!" Spike roared.

He grabbed Buffy and shook her roughly. "Wake up luv!" But she remained limp and lifeless.

Spike sat back down and clenched his fists, closing his eyes. He listened and he could hear her heart still beating, a very faint thump, thump. But who knew what the demon had done to her? Buffy might never wake up.

She was sitting in a field of flowers. Flowers of every colour, shape, and size. They brushed softly against her skin and filled the air with sweet perfume. Buffy sighed dreamily and lay down, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin.

Suddenly her face burst into flames.

She couldn't scream and she couldn't move. Just as soon as it happened, it was gone. Bringing her hands to her face she felt the skin there. Smooth and undamaged. What the hell was going on?

Buffy yelped in pain when she felt something biting into her leg. Looking down she saw a beautiful flower. With teeth. Human teeth. And it was biting down hard into her soft skin.

For a moment all she could do was stare. The flower was normal again. Was she imagining things? Buffy tried to think rationally ok I've either completely lost my mind or something is trying to make me go insane.I won't let it

Then she noticed what she was wearing.

It was probably once a very beautiful white dress. But now, it was caked with blood and dirt and torn and ripped into jagged pieces. In some parts the fabric stuck to her skin like glue, melting into her. In other parts blood oozed from the thousands of tiny cuts, which littered her body.

Too scared and shocked to scream, Buffy looked around at the colourful flowers, the green grass and the sun shining happily down. She listened and she thought she could hear the soft sound of a piano playing somewhere in the distance.

The slayer had never been so frightened in her life. She listened some more – what was that sound? Like a whispering . . . no, now it was like a thousand people chatting . . . all saying the same thing . . . faster and faster, over and over and over . . .

"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy!"

All of the flowers had grown teeth. Not fangs, not demon teeth, human teeth. And they were all saying her name, her name as they advanced on her and began to bite . . .

Buffy screamed and screamed.

Spike calmly scooped the slayer up and set her on the bed, covering her lightly with a blanket. Then he let out a strangled scream and smashed his fist into the wall.

Sitting calmly back down on a chair next to her, he admitted that there was no doubt he had begun to develop strong feelings for the slayer. He looked at her lifeless form and expressionless face. What is going on in her mind? He wondered, but wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

This was wrong. It was far worse if she, the slayer didn't actually die, but never woke up.

She was falling. Falling and falling down a deep, black hole. She tried to grab onto something – anything but her hands opened and closed uselessly, grasping only air. She became desperate, going crazy, knowing she had to make the falling stop!

She tried to see, but the blackness so dark, swarmed around her, clouding her eyes, smothering her. All blackness and then:

Flash.

Red fire streaking across her eyes.

Flash.

Blackness.

Flash.

Vampires coming towards her, thousands and thousands of them, mouths open, fangs glistening with blood.

Flash.

Blackness.

Flash.

Turning into a vampire and eating all her friends. Willow, Xander, Giles, her mum.

Flash.

Red dots, balls of fire, flying towards her and inside each was the face of one of the many demons she had slain.

Flash.

Blackness again. And then . . .

Her hands grabbed something.

She couldn't see what it was but it felt like a metal bar. She hung from it, clinging, desperate not to fall further into the black abyss.

And then the emotions came. She felt them hitting her, one by one. First they where nice emotions, love, happiness . . . but as soon as they came they were torn away and replaced by anger, hate, fear, loneliness. They kept coming and it was worse than any physical torment.

She barely noticed as her body was being stretched. Her lungs collapsed, but she didn't die. She knew that after this she would find herself somewhere even more horrible, her lungs fine, body undamaged and ready for a fresh round of torture.

Buffy did however, notice when her skin began to peel off.

Slowly.

It started at the tips of her fingers and gradually, horrendously, continued downwards.

She would have screamed but her mouth had peeled off as well leaving a flat stretch of muscle where it used to be.

What would he do if she never woke up? Spike was now thinking. Would he just leave, go somewhere far, far away and never come back? Would he bring her back to Sunnydale, to her Scooby friends and let them stake him for letting Erimoir do this to her? Or would he go back, grab Dru from Angelus and run away with her, forgetting everything that ever happened between the slayer and him?

Angel. It was his entire fault! Spike stood up and kicked the chair sending it flying across the room and splintering into pieces when it hit the wall.

No. It was his fault. If he hadn't gone to get weapons out of the car, if he hadn't left her alone if her hadn't. . .

Maybe it would have been better to let Erimoir get rid of her completely. It would be a lot easier to forget her if her body wasn't still here.

But Spike could never forget this slayer. The past week he had spent with her, even though they argued and fought, it had been the best week of his undead life. He'd never felt so…normal, so free.

He wanted her. He wanted her to be his.

This was the worst torment. Buffy was watching different scenes play before her of herself, and she could feel all the pain and emotions as if it were really happing.

A young Buffy with blond pigtails skipped happily to the boy in the playground. The other Buffy, looking in, couldn't see his face, it was fuzzy but he felt familiar.

Little Buffy held out a flower to him, looking up adoringly. "I Love you!" She exclaimed. The boy laughed and snatched the flower, crushing it brutally in his hand. He then dropped it on the ground and spat at it in disgust before walking away with his mob of friends in a flurry of arrogant laughter, leaving little Buffy crying and alone.

Flash.


Now she couldn't see anything but she could hear herself and someone else having a conversation.

"I have to go."

"But why? I need you."

"I'm leaving, I want to."

"But . . . but I love you."

"That's not enough to make me stay."

Flash.

Buffy woke up alone in a house. She got up and walked through each room. No one was there. The house was empty and silent, but outside she could hear birds singing and children laughing. The house was dark but she could see a glow around the windows and knew it was sunny outside . . .

She didn't like it here, in the dark. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to feel the sun on her skin, she wanted the light!

Buffy ran around to the front door but it wouldn't open, she couldn't kick it open, and the windows were made of slayer proof glass. Everything was locked, sealed.

The house wouldn't let her escape.

She was trapped inside. Alone for eternity.

Flash.

"Mmm." She murmured and rolled over in the bed to wrap her arms around her lover. Her hands grasped air. Her eyes opened and she called out his name.

And then he was there.

She flung herself at him, kissing him, but he pushed her away in annoyance. "I thought you would be gone by now."

She was speechless. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to speak. The man's face was still fuzzy – who was he? He spoke impatiently, "I have other things to do ok? I'll call you."

She knew he wouldn't. "But, but last night we . . . you told me you loved me."

"For god's sake Buffy! Grow up! It was just in the heat of the moment! Do you always act like this?" As he talked his face slowly became clearer.

She felt anger welling inside.

Angel.

"I hate you!" Buffy screamed.

Spike stroked her hair. "Slayer . . . can you hear me?" he tried. "Slayer . . . Buffy?"

Spike breathed in sharply when he saw a single tear slip down her cheek.

"Buffy . . .?"

This time her eyes snapped open.

"Spike?"