Bring Me To Life – A Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel Crossover Event

Part 28 Breathe


I
Played the fool today
And I
Can see us vanishing into the crowd
Longing for home again
But home
Is a feeling I buried in you

I'm alright
I'm alright
It only hurts when I breathe

-"Breathe", Greenwheel


Hyperion Hotel, L.A. – Spike's Room

15 Minutes Later


She probably should have left after the sound of the first object slamming outside Spike's hotel room door.

She definitely should have left after the other 50 audible crashes, furious expletives and unrelenting sounds of his fists crashing against the door followed.

It would have been the smart thing to do. The wise thing.

But, then again, Faith never had made a living out of doing "the wise thing." If she had, she wouldn't have two bodies on her and have lost three years of her life to prison.

She had followed him back after that nasty little scene in the library about 15 minutes ago. Why, she didn't really know. After all, Faith was the first to admit that she wasn't the most qualified person in the world to soothe another soul in need. And a few years back when she was talking a walk on the dark side, she might have even found the kind of pain she saw on Spike's face when Buffy effectively ripped out his heart, shredded it to mulch and used it to fertilize the lawn roses of hers and Angel's great love—yeah, she realized how corny that sounded in her head, too—hell, Faith might have even found it funny.

But that was then, and this was now. And seeing the pure hurt in Spike's eyes, the way he looked so deflated, so crushed, made her feel bad for him. And it kind of…hurt her a little, too. Seeing Spike, funny, brash, boastful, snarky, well-meaning, knows-his-way-around-a-good-fucking-kiss Spike so down caused something to stir restlessly in her, and it wouldn't stop until she could at least get a moment to talk to him, to see if he was okay…if there was anything she could do to make it better.

Partly, it was because Faith felt responsible somehow. Her mocking of Buffy's "Three-Ringed Circus of Love and Pain" with Angel and Spike jumping through the flaming hoops for her affections led to Buffy's words punching enough holes in Spike's heart to make it look like Swiss cheese. And while part of her was glad that at least Buffy was finally honest with herself and with both men about where her true feelings lay, she never wanted Spike to get hurt over it. And certainly not because Faith egged Buffy on about her indecisiveness toward her romantic affairs. But whether she liked it or not, Spike did get hurt. Badly. And she couldn't help but to think that this was partly her fault. And ever a repent-y soul now, Faith felt obliged to go and make sure that she could help play damage control in the hopes of healing Spike's emotional wounds.

She doubted it would help, though; hell, after giving Spike that ultimatum a little while ago, she should have been staying as far away from him as possible. Let him sort things out. Faith didn't want to mess up his mind anymore than Buffy had for God knows how long. It was like she told her blonde Chosen rival before the big throwdown in the library; she didn't play games for kicks. Not when it comes to someone's feelings…and especially not when those feelings were tied up with her own.

And yet, here she was, standing outside Spike's partially closed door like some damn puppy, waiting for Spike to get the rage and anger and pent up fury out of his system. She almost chuckled as she thought of what her past, twisted, violence-prone self would have thought if she could see herself now. Probably would have thought I was pathetic. But then again, I wasn't exactly playing with a full deck back in the day, either.

Her musings ceased as she heard the noises largely stop inside the room, though there was still an audible rustling sound that she couldn't make out on the bed. Deciding that it wasn't nearly violent-sounding enough for her to worry about getting hit with something by mistake, she picked that moment to make her presence known.

Slightly pushing the open door further back, Faith caught sight of what could be best described as a morose scowl on Spike's face. The right corner of her full lips turned slightly in sympathy as she saw him stare down vacantly at the mess of clothing on his bed, his arms supporting his upper half as he leaned on the bed. Around him, it looked like a twister had visited the room. Vases, books, and chairs where thrown everywhere. Pieces of shattered pottery and splintered table legs were littering every which corner of the room. A bed lamp lay shattered on the opposite side of the room.

Seeing as he had yet to acknowledge her presence, Faith decided to take the first step. "Hey," she said somewhat softly, offering a faint, sympathetic smile. "So, uh, trying your hand at redecorating, are ya?"

Oh, geez... Faith winced at how bad her little joke sounded, even to her. Comedy definitely wasn't going to be a daytime gig for her.

His response was quick, hard and terse. "Really not a good time, Slayer."

She expected that. There would have been a time where that would have been all the hint that Faith needed for her to throw up her hands and give up, leaving him to his own devices. But times were different now, and instead of bailing, she merely let a sigh escape her lips and tried again.

"Right. Sorry 'bout that," she offered, apologetically. "I…well, things got kinda crazy back there, what, with you and Angel throwing down and everything, and then Bu…uh, but, I figured you could use a friendly ear to vent to, or…something."

Christ, I suck at this, she realized. If her lame attempt to cover up using Buffy's name so soon to a clearly angry Spike didn't suck so bad, then her equally lame finish to her offering of help was even worse.

But Faith wasn't ready to mail it in so easily. She came here with the mind to talk with Spike about what happened, and she wasn't about to give it up until she could say "Mission: Accomplished." She just wished that she was better with this kind of thing, reaching out to people in need. She didn't have Angel's skill for it, or Willow's knack for projecting sincerity and empathy. Hell, right now, she would have almost settled for Andrew's flair for pointless yammering; at least he eventually got to a point.

Faith didn't have any of that. She was blunt, direct and to the point; others might deem her as "thoughtless" for it. But hell, she figured, at this point, what did she have to lose? At least she'd be able to say she tried something afterwards.

She took a deep breath, and just tried to get to the point. "Spike, I…look, I'm not good usually with this kind of thing, so I'm just gonna say it. I'm sorry it went down like that back there with B. That was a rough deal. And…well, honestly, it was pretty fucked up. I know you're probably pissed right now, and hurting, I get that. And you're in the right to be, but..." she sighed, trying to find the words even as Spike started to move around, randomly grabbing discarded clothes and a few personal items and tossing them on the bed.

Thinking nothing of it at first, she continued, "…but I think in the end, you'll be better off. The cards are all out on the table now. Yeah, you got dealt a bad hand, but at least won't be stuck wasting your time on something that was only going to end up even more messed up than it already was and was messing you up with it. Angel and B, they've got the big 'Starcrossed Lovers' thing going, everyone knows that. And the fact that Buffy kept stringing you along as long as she has while she knew that it was Angel she wanted deep down was a pretty douchebag move on her part."

She began speaking in earnest, just giving him the truth, which was the best that she could offer. "And believe me, this isn't me trying to make a play for you right now when you're low, or trying to get some kind of pity sex out of it. This is just me being honest. I'm just sayin' that I…I know that it doesn't feel like it now, but there's nowhere to go but up from here. Yeah, I mean, it sucks now, but there's gonna be a point sometime, someday soon, where you can look back at this, and say…What the fuck is this?"

The crass question came after Faith took a look…a real look…at what Spike was doing. Somehow, she had failed to see the black duffel bag that was at the corner of his bed, until he started randomly tossing things into it, packing furiously, each object flung in with disdain, as if his toothbrush had insulted his mother or something.

When he didn't answer her, she stalked over to the edge of the bed, her eyes boring into him, demanding an answer. "Spike? Hey, I'm talking to you!"

She grabbed his arm roughly, turning his attention to her. As her angry dark chocolate irises met his simmering blue eyes, Faith felt something jump at the intensity that she found there in the taller man's depths. Dangerous and passionate. Wild and untamed. She always did have a weakness for bad boys, and Spike had practically invented the concept, as her stirring hormones could now attest. Her body was sending mixed messages, unsure if she wanted to get in a defensive crouch and get ready for combat, or to throw him to the ground, rip off the few remains of his tattered shirt and see just how wild and untamed he could be.

Get a grip, damn it, Faith thought to himself angrily, as Spike stared at her for one painfully long moment. The last thing this guy needs right now is for you to put the moves on his ass! He needs a friend, not for us to do the beast with two backs...

Turning away, he continued to stuff his belongings into the bag. "It's called packing, luv. Figured you'd understand the concept after all the traveling you told me you've done over the years."

"I know what it is, smartass," Faith snapped, snatching the folded shirt in his hand away. "Now answer the damn question. What. The Fuck. Is This?"

"It's my shirt. Now, give that back," he demanded, angrily.

"Not until you tell me what the hell you think you're doing," Faith replied, un-intimidated as she stared back just as hard as he did.

"Fine. It's called 'needing some bloody space.' That what you wanted to here, then?" he ground out. "No way am I sticking around for breakfast to see Buffy and Captain Caveman Brow snogging or acting out their little soap opera, not after what happened back there. Not after all the shit I put meself through for her, and believe me, I've bent over as far backwards as I can for that bird for too damn long. Well, piss on that rut. I'm taking what little spine I've got left that hasn't broken on her account"

"and leaving?" Faith shot back, accusatorily. "The world's about three weeks from getting flash-fried by The First, and you're bailing on everyone because Miss Priss decided she doesn't want to play 'Hide the Stake' with you anymore? Are you freakin' serious? What the hell, Spike?"

"Oy, let's get something straight right now," Spike growled, his face only inches from hers. "You don't get to pull the high and mighty act with me, Slayer. Even if I did go for that bloody prattle, you don't know me. You don't get to judge me!"

"You're right. I don't know you. And with my record, I can't judge you either. But where I come from, there's a word for someone who runs away from a fight right when they're needed the most. It's called 'coward,'" Faith retorted, not backing down in the slightest. "Well, actually, I prefer 'chicken-shit,' but 'coward' pretty much covers it."

"You could call me 'Sally,' for all I bloody well care, luv, but it doesn't change a damn thing," Spike snorted, snatching the shirt out of her hands and throwing it into the duffel bag. "If this is my last three weeks on Earth, then I'm not hangin' around here for that oversized ape to rub my face in the fact that he won, and have salt poured on the wound. I'd rather go off to a nice, loud bar, get nice, loud and drunk and fall into a nice li'l 'I don't give a piss' state of mind about anything else."

"Does that include Dawn?" Faith replied angrily, noting that her words had an immediately sobering effect on the angry blond vampire. "Are you gonna stop giving a crap about her, too, Sally? You just got back on her good side, so, what, you're just gonna bail on her now while she's trying to figure out her shiny new superpowers in this shit-storm of an apocalypse, because you're pissed off at Big Sis? Well, if you can live with that, then hey, good for you, Spike."

Faith's tone became more sarcastic, cutting even. "Take care of good ol' Number One, and the hell with everyone else. And don't worry about Dawn, I'm sure she'll be fine. I mean, it's not like the poor kid isn't used to losing someone she loves by this point, right?"

And I can't ask for things to be still again

No I can't ask for you

To offer the world through your eyes

The Slayer's words brought up a swell of emotion in Spike's chest as he pictured Dawn's sweet, pretty face, the way her big blue eyes had shone with admiration when she had first started coming around his crypt, looking up at him with a kind of rock star-like worship. Like he was Guns 'N Roses, the Sex Pistols and Barney the Dinosaur wrapped into one. And then, when he pictured her reaction if she heard that he had simply left, disappeared into the night without so much as a 'See you around, Nibblet...'

It had taken him a while to earn his place back onto her "favorite people list" after that mess with Buffy last year. Of all the people in the Scooby Gang, Dawn was the one person aside from Buffy that he truly cared for; she was the little sister that he never had. She was the only one who had ever looked at him, treated him like a person, and not a wild, dangerous animal that was not to be trusted. She was…precious to him.

And he knew that she was scared. Despite her enthusiasm about these fabulous new powers, he could see fear, doubt in her eyes over the responsibility she now had, all the training she now had to do in a hurry, and in secret, with Faith, Spike, Connor and Darla, all while dealing with a pending apocalypse just around the bend. Dawn needed him around, he knew that. Now, perhaps, more than ever; if he abandoned her now, what kind of "big brother" would that make him?

Longing for home again
But home
Is a feeling I buried in you

But after what just happened back there, after Buffy ripped out his heart for the umpteenth time, and perhaps the last time, how was he just supposed to put it behind him? How was he supposed to ignore the aching in his chest whenever he saw her, or the burning fury whenever he saw Angel sink his claws into her or the stinging feel of humiliation knowing that she chose his poncy Grandsire over him…even after he gave up everything he was for her, changed nearly everything about himself all for her love?

Only to be cast off like a leper the very moment that the man who left her nearly four years ago crawled back into her life, taking everything for himself the way he always had even in the old days, like he was so damned special…

Growling, Spike's anger rose as he flung a nearby flower pot that had thus far remained unscathed and hurled it against the wall, the pottery angrily exploding into jagged shards all over the floor.

Whirling, he turned on Faith, his eyes hard and blue, the bluest shade she's ever seen. Naked and furious and toiling with swirls of emotion, and again, she wasn't sure whether she should be scared, primed for a fight, or turned on to the max. He looked like he was about ready to blow, and Faith was right in the middle of the lava slide…until his shoulders just sagged and he deflated, shaking his head in bitter defeat.

I'm alright
I'm alright
It only hurts when I breathe
I'm alright
I'm alright
It only hurts when I breathe

"I just…" he began, struggling to find the words, his raised up hands dropping at his sides again, before his right hand grabs the back of his head in frustration.

"I just need a moment to myself, can't I get just a stinkin' moment to myself, for once?" His question becomes harder, angrier. "Can't I just have a second to get my thoughts together without people shoving me into walls, punching me in the face and jumping me? Can a bloke get a moment to think with some peace and quiet for just a minute? Is that too much to ask, huh?"

Caught between feeling pity for his obvious confusion and anger for getting what felt like the brushoff, Faith shook her head, ready to give up. "Just…forget it. I'm outta here, alright? I know, I shouldn't have even come in the first place..."

Disappointment settling in her chest, Faith turned to go when she felt a cool hand on her right arm. "Wait."

Turning back, she sees those baby blues of Spike staring back at her, locked right with her eyes. Not her breasts, not her ass, not anything else. They were drilling deep into her own eyes, boring into her in a way that somehow felt more intimate than any 10 mindless casual sex-capades that she could think of.

And off the contact, the way his cool fingers grip softly, but firmly on the warm flesh of her bicep, Faith is caught again between the instinct to slap his arm away and tell him not to touch her, that he hadn't earned that right yet, and a need to reach out, pull him towards her and see just how far this inexplicable pull between them could carry them, here and now, the shards of broken furniture and shattered lamp pieces be damned.

My window through which
Nothing hides
And everything sings

She could feel herself shaking a little, unused to the way he was looking at her, eyes fill with need, but need of a different kind. Not the need to fuck, but an earnest kind of need that both intrigued and scared the crap out of her at the same time.

Her voice was raspy, low, but with just the faintest hint of a tremor. "What?" she asked gently, but a little afraid.

She wished that she could make out the intention behind those stark, revealing blue eyes that seemed to peer into the very depths of her, but she hadn't a clue…until a gasp escaped her lips when he draws her close by her trim waist.

I'm counting the signs
And cursing the miles in between

She only had a moment to stare up in surprise at the taller vampire and a little awe at how blue that shade in Spike's eyes really were before all thoughts are cut off when his lips slide over hers and his mouth crushes against hers in a searing liplock.

At first, her eyes widen and a muffled cry of surprise comes from her mouth, the dark-haired Slayer too surprised to resist. But as his cool lips continue their soft and yet firm pressure on her own, and as her eyes slowly fluttered closed, she felt something inside her melt and all thoughts of resistance slowly faded. The last thing she wanted to do at that moment was resist, as she let his fingers slip into her long, dark hair, her body relaxing a little in his embrace as her free hand slipped up around his neck.

She felt something spark and crackle inside her, like an old fuse come to life as she lost herself in the feel of Spike's lips. For a moment, she wonders if Buffy was crazy to have let a guy like this who could do the kinds of things he can do with his mouth slip away…

Longing for home again
But home
Is a feeling I buried in you

But the mere thought of Buffy's name was enough to snap her back to her senses.

"Spike," she tries, coming up for air but drowning in the long, heated kisses his cool mouth was lavishing her lips with. Struggling to find her voice, she squirms as she tries to get the words out between his kisses. "Wait…wait, stop…Stop!"

With one concentrated effort, she pushed hard against his chest with both hands and sent him flying back into the other side of the room with the force she used. Crying out in pain, Spike winced, clutching his tender back as the ache of his injuries from his fight with Angel began to make their painful presence felt.

For a moment, Faith's eyes widened in concern, instinct telling her to go to him before she forces herself to stay rooted where she was. Distance was the whole point of throwing him into a wall, after all.

"OW! Bloody hell, woman, what's gotten into you?" he questioned, genuine confusion on his face. Was there some kind of boundary that he had stepped over, even though she seemed to be very inviting just a few moments before?

"Me? What about you?" she demands, throwing her hands up in the air, angry and confused and admittedly, pretty horny right now. "You tell me you want me to go, then you shove your tongue down my mouth? What the hell was that just now?"

He takes a moment, searching his own feelings for some semblance of an answer, for what drove him to do what he just did. "I thought…I thought we were having a moment."

She stares at him, bewildered. "What? What did you…why were you…I mean…why?"

He stared back, as if he expected her to understand. Giving up off the confusion on her pretty face, he clumsily explained, "I just thought…I mean, isn't this what you wanted?"

She gaped at him. "You think I wanted to be your pity fuck after B just dumped you? Are you serious right now?" She spat out the words 'pity fuck' with disdain, like they were garbage on her tongue as she glared at him furiously. "I told you before, Spike. I'm not into that. I'm nobody's rebound girl."

He got angry, indignant. Being dumped by one Slayer was bad enough for tonight, but two? He could only take so much. "You didn't seem to have your high moral standing earlier tonight when you had your hands all over my knickers, did ya?"

"Because I thought you wanted to be with me, asshole!" she snapped, angrily. "If I had known you still had Buffy on that bleached brain of yours, I would have stayed home and babysat the Wonder Kids."

"What the hell bloody difference does it make?" he asked, frustrated. "Buffy's made her choice, luv"

"So, I'm, what, your consolation prize? Is that it?" Faith snapped, angry and offended. "Can't be with the love of your life, but you'll settle for the first thing with tits that looks at you pretty?"

"I didn't say that!" Spike growled, getting angry. "Damn it all, if you could let me stick my two cents in without tearing my head off for a second"

"Spike," she cuts him off, exasperated and exhausted. It's late, she was tired, and all of this was just too damn confusing to deal with in the middle of the night and after the night she had.

I'm alright
I'm alright
It only hurts when I breathe
I'm alright
I'm alright
It only hurts when I breathe

She brushed a stray lock of wild hair from her face, and the gesture held Spike's captivated gaze as he measured her up, her expressive brown eyes looking down for a moment as she searched for the right words before she looked back up at him, full, inviting lips pursed together before she spoke.

"Look…you want me to be honest with you? Fine….I want you. Not gonna deny that. But I sure as hell don't want you like this. I've lived the last couple of years of my life freezing in Buffy's shadow when it comes to slaying. But I'm sure as hell not gonna finish second to her with any guy I'm with. I'm done playing runner up to Miss friggin' Perfect. So, if it's a cheap fuck that you're looking for to make you stay, then you might as well pack up your shit and not let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

"But…" she pauses again, her expression going softer as she locks eyes with Spike. "If you're gonna stay, stay for the right reasons. Stay for Dawn, for Darla, hell, even for Andrew. Stay to save the world. Stay because we need you here, or because it's the right thing to do, stay for…"

Me, the thought crossed her mind involuntarily, almost cruelly. Stay because you want me. Just me. Only me. She knew deep down that he's not over Buffy, hell, he might never get over her; but as much of a Slayer that Faith was, she was also a woman, and even after all the disappointments in her life, she found herself daring to hope.

Sighing, she shakes her head and brushes off that thought before she finds Spike's gaze again. "Stay because you want to, I guess is what I'm tryin' to say."

A beat, before she started again. "Look, can you at least stay until after breakfast tomorrow? Think about it for the night? And after that, if you still wanna bail, then fine, I get it, I won't stop you. But just…sleep on it for the night. As a favor to me?"

Spike rubbed a tired hand across his face. Damn it, that was not at all what he had in mind. He certainly didn't want to hang out here long enough to look at Buffy, not after that mess in the library. He felt too embarrassed, too angry. And if Angel crossed his line of vision, Spike was sure there would be blood. But there was the Nibblet to consider; Dawn would never forgive him if he just took off without saying a word.

And then…there was Faith. It wasn't Buffy who was coming down here to check on his wounded soul after she basically threw scalding oil over it; no, that was Faith.

Faith, who wouldn't let him leave so easily. Who, despite this palpable attraction between them, wouldn't accept a roll in the hay with him borne out of anger and heartbreak and pain, which, he had to admit, made him respect the hell out of her for that. Who was bargaining with him using those deep, expressive mocha-shaded orbs of hers that drew him in inexplicably to at least stay the night and think things over instead of fly outta the Pouf's hotel like a bat out of hell.

With a breathless sigh and a shake of his head, Spike relented. "Alright, luv, have it your way. But no guarantees after breakfast. I've got a lot to think about," he muttered, resigned to staying the night.

It was almost worth it, he found himself thinking, when he saw the right corner of Faith's lips twitch in what appeared to be a smile fighting to find its way to her face.

"Thanks," she said, honestly.

He gives a small smirk, but it ends up becoming a genuine, albeit tiny, smile. "No problem," he drawls, before he takes a look around the blown up crap around his room. "Aaand now I've gotta mess around here to deal with."

She smiled, but hesitated for a moment, as if pondering whether the next thing she was about to ask was a good idea. "You need help picking it up?"

When I breathe
It only hurts when I breathe
When I breathe
It only hurts when I breathe...

There's more to that question than what's beneath the surface, they both know that. And for a moment, he was sorely tempted to take her up on that offer…but he didn't want to dwell on that…not right now. That was a question for him to ponder over sleep. There was a lot he had to think about over sleep.

"Nah, it's Angel's problem, I reckon. His hotel, and all. I'll send him the bill."

Faith chuckled, despite herself, as she shook her head at Spike's flippant attitude. "Well, if you change your mind about cleaning it up, you know where to find me."

"Yeah, luv," the British undead smiled at her genuinely, barely starting to put all the heartache behind him. "I know."


TBC


Next: When a heated moment of passion between Buffy and Angel goes awry, the results could spell doom for their slowly rebuilding romance. And will a bold move by The First and its allies mean some deadly results for our heroes?


A/N: Hey, guys! I'm baaaack! Sorry about the long...really long...wait. Things have been kinda hectic over the last year. Got a new job which is extraordinarily demanding, and despite my original intentions, I got sucked into writing a new and really big fic story (moral of the day, kids, when you write a one-shot, make sure it's ONLY a one-shot, no matter how much people beg and clamor for more. lol)

Compared to what I normally write, this is a pretty short chapter, but I was trying to grease the wheels and start anew again, because I really missed writing this story, it's my baby :) lol And it set more of a tone between the way I wanted Faith and Spike's feelings for each other to go down in the next few chapters. You can thank the new "Angel and Faith" comics for the burst of inspiration that made me want to write this quick chapter; gave me the feel for how Spike and Faith could interact, and the ideas for how to press them further along as they figure out what they mean to each other. But love is never an easy road in the Buffyverse, and things are only going to get harder, especially in the next few chapters to come...for everyone.

Well, gtg. Read, review, like me on Facebook and follow me on Twitter and hopefully, I'll be back soon with the next chapter. Until then, stay thirsty, my friends. :)

-Jean-theGuardian