Aftermath

She hadn't seen Spike all day, he had refused company. She had entered what was now to be his room numerous times, and each time she had yearned for a response, anything, but Spike was always in the same position, on his side, the covers wrapped around him like a protective cocoon and with his face cast in shadow. She would just leave the blood on the nearby end table and leave the room again. One reassurance was that at least the blood was being drunk; even if Spike seemed to have truly left her with his broken body and soul.

Slowly, she knocked on the door. She received no answer, just like she had received no answer throughout the day, but determined not to let him wallow in self-pity or let the surrounding darkness consume him whole, she strode purposefully in. Spike was still in bed, still on his side, and still looking away from her. Buffy felt her frayed nerves begin to snap.

"Spike. We need to talk." Spike didn't move; he barely blinked. Buffy gulped down the fear that had shot up her throat and walked up to him. She looked deep into his azure eyes, and found they were blank. A lifeless blue that seemed to stare into nothing, they were the eyes of a dead man. Buffy couldn't stop a sob from escaping as she gently trailed a finger down his silky skin. It seemed like that one sob undid her, as more sobs escaped with it, before she knew it pure anguish just gripped hold of her and her knees gave away beneath her. Buffy brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to bring at least an illusion of comfort.

There was a time, not long ago, when she would have rejoiced at Spike's current condition, but as Buffy's throat began to tear at her agonized cries, she realized those times were truly at an end. Slowly, painfully slowly, hesitant cold hands rested on her shoulders; gently they applied pressure as Spike rose from his bed and lowered himself to the ground.

As strongly as he could in his weakened state, he pulled Buffy into his arms, and pulled her against his chest, ignoring his body's protesting pain. At the moment he couldn't care less for what happened to him, nothing mattered but the fact that his blonde goddess was crying her heart out, crying all those awful cries for him. He was the cause of them, and that knowledge was worse than any physical pain. Buffy reacted instinctively, burrowing her face into the soft chest and letting him carry her body weight.

As she began feeling better, she remembered just who she was leaning so closely and heavily into…Buffy leapt back, as if burnt. Spike tried to contain the hurt that stabbed his heart at her actions, but as his face remained impassive; his blue eyes betrayed him, showing all his hurt and pain. "You're hurt Spike. I didn't...I didn't want to make things worse." Spike shook his head at her. "You don't have to make excuses Buffy; I can't blame you for being skittish." Buffy frowned at his choice of words, apparently, chosen to describe her behaviour. "That's not a word I would choose to describe it. I don't have the words."

"Me neither; I can't change it, can't use I'm sorry...All I can say is, Buffy, I've changed."

Buffy looked at him, suddenly very coldly, the conversation not a place she wanted to be. It was strange, this weakened Spike seemed like a new person; intentionally she had removed him from his attempt rape, like it had been done by a different person, but Spike's speech had just united himself and the incident in Buffy's mind. It wasn't a welcomed development. "I believe you; I just don't know what you've turned into. I know you Spike, I know when there's something you're not telling me and you're hiding something."

Spike's face hardened, his face cold, but his eyes betrayed him yet again. It was an odd mixture of anger and self-hatred. Buffy found she had to look away.

Quite suddenly, Spike's form wasn't next to her anymore. She stood and watched as Spike shakily reached for his clothes. Buffy's anger immediately left, and was replaced with deep concern, concern for him; concern that if he left now he wouldn't survive. "Spike, don't go." Spike looked at her, torn. Her words had added to the damage, but it was clear to her that she had also helped heal some of them. It clearly showed that he really didn't want to leave, but a bigger part of him, his pride, won the inner battle and he rose to his full height defiantly. "I think I've overstayed my welcome." Buffy did the first thing that came to mind; she grasped his wrist and slammed him into the closest wall.

Spike let out a low growl as pain rocked up his bare back. Buffy brought herself face to face with him, authority shining determinedly in her green eyes. "You're not well, you go now and you'll be killed. You stay. You have to stay till...till you're better." Spike looked at her curiously then; she could practically feel his blue eyes boring holes into her skull.

"Why are you helping me?"

"You saved Dawn."

Spike's eyes blazed with more life than they had since Buffy had first seen him since his return to Sunnydale; but that life was fuelled by anger and hurt. "I don't want or need your molly coddling Slayer." Buffy looked strongly at him and pressed him more tightly against the wall, her body pinning him there. "It's not coddling." Spike looked at her very calculating then and Buffy abruptly backed away, her face flushed. "Now put your clothes back and get back to bed; I'll get you more blood." Spike just stood there, seemingly stunned and calmly watched her leave.

Buffy rested against the door, her heart-beat drumming furiously, after everything she couldn't believe Spike could still do this to her. How he could turn her on. He made her so mad she wanted to throttle him one moment and then have him kiss her senseless the next!

As she descended the stairs, she briefly hoped Spike hadn't smelt her arousal. Spike's infatuation was not something she could deal with right now.

Spike groaned as he gently lowered himself on to his soft bed. He had smelt it, heavy and potent, the smell of a Slayer's arousal. After everything, she was still attracted to him; after everything he had done, she still held feelings for him. As Buffy remerged he found that he had to show her; show her some of the guilt that was weighing him down. "I don't deserve this Buffy." Buffy looked at him, this was quite a different Spike than the one she had left; whilst getting the blood she had felt that she had gotten the old Spike back, but now, the guilt that was glistening in front of her served as a reminder of just how broken he was. She looked at him critically for a moment, taking into consideration his wildly wavy dark rooted hair. Must buy bleach, she mentally noted.

"After all I've done…all the pain." Tears began to slide down his face and Buffy suddenly found herself owning up to her own behaviour. "It was my fault Spike. I treated you like...like I was superior; like I was better than you were. I acted like I had a right to do those things to you...to hurt you, use you. Spike I hurt you. I told you no all the time but I let you continue; how were you to know when I truly meant it? It was my fault as much as yours. I'm sorry Spike."

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think and Review, have a merry Xmas!

Regards

Lisi the slayer