Chapter 13 - Remedy or Warning
She hadn’t patrolled, but she hadn’t moved into the Hyperion, either. It was a somewhat-happy medium that had remained an unspoken point between the two of them.
At least until Spike left again.
“You know I can‘t stay long…”
“I know,” she whispered, unable to meet his gaze.
It was the day after his rough treatment of her that he’d said those words. For the entire day, he had been the man that Buffy knew and loved. Gentle, caring, considerate of her.
But even with his attention so focused on her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d felt like a wounded animal with a predator who was prepared to kill her. The loss of blood had weakened her for several hours until her body did what it was designed to do and began to rapidly heal her injuries. It wasn’t Slayer healing, but it was the next best thing.
That had been five days ago.
Spike had called her everyday, telling her anything she wanted to know, which wasn’t much. Buffy was beyond the feeling of discovering what he and her father were up to in Sunnydale. Maybe it was maturity. Maybe it was the fact that she knew Spike actually would tell her if she were to ask. Or maybe she just didn’t give a damn.
“I have to go,” he whispered, his gaze far away and unfocused. “I want to tell you…”
“Don’t,” Buffy whispered, shaking her head. “I don’t think I want to know anymore.”
“Why?” Spike asked, turning to look at her.
Because I don’t know if I can handle it right now, she thought, turning away from him. “Because if it was something I needed to know, you would have told me a long time ago,” she replied, knowing that she hadn’t even touched on the real reason for his keeping a secret from her but also knowing that she was giving him a firm way out when he needed one the most. Turning toward him, she tried to keep the accusation from her gaze as the memories of the night before came back to her. “You’ll tell me when it’s over. I trust you…”
The rest of her statement had gone unfinished, leaving both of them to stand across from each other in an uncomfortable silence. Something that Buffy hadn’t experienced with Spike since she was a teenager living in Sunnydale.
The rest of it still seemed to hang in the air, surrounding her, even as she walked through her neighborhood, watching the sunset.
“I trust you… to keep me safe.”
She’d wanted to say it. She’d wanted to tell him that she loved him and needed him and knew that he would do anything to protect her. She wanted to clear her conscience before he walked out the door. She wanted to confess everything that she was feeling, every confusing emotion that left her feeling sick and gutted and desperate for a connection with something that only vaguely resembled what he was to her. She’d wanted to tell him everything.
And then her pain had sliced through her neck at the tiniest movement from her, and she was reminded that he wasn’t a man she felt she could trust. Not when they were so close to the time when he had hurt her.
No, she knew she couldn’t confess what was really bothering her. Not at that time. Maybe when they got some distance from the moment that was still too bright in her mind, she would be able to tell him every thought and feeling that she was having, but not then.
The memory of his fangs savaging her neck should have suppressed any future need to be bitten. It should have been a resolute way for her to turn her back on what was happening to her and make her feel like a real person again.
But it hadn’t.
Once she was, more or less, healed, the feeling seemed to increase, making her increasingly nauseas until she was ready to find some home remedies to attempt relief.
She’d sat in her kitchen for an hour that afternoon, staring at the butcher knife that she was idly twisting through her fingers. The tiny nicks and cuts on her skin didn’t faze her as she slowly twirled the blade, imagining if it would be a feeling that was anywhere close to what she experienced at the feeling of razor sharp incisors.
She had blinked rapidly in a moment of clarity, dropping the knife when she actually noticed the size of it.
Shaken by what she had even contemplated doing to herself, Buffy had practically stumbled out of the house, feeling the sweat beading up on her forehead as she gulped at the fresh air, wishing for an instant cure to what she was doing to herself.
The sun was still high enough that she knew she wasn’t in danger of seeking out the true relief that she craved. Deciding on a slow walk through her neighborhood had seemed like a moderately smart thing to do.
The Hyperion was looking better as each day wore on. She didn’t know what Cordelia could do to help her, but she was the closest thing to a mother that Buffy had and the need for some kind of companionship was too strong to ignore.
Studying the sky for a moment, Buffy took a deep breath as she made a decision. Turning in the direction of the hotel, she walked as quickly as she could, knowing that she would never make it before dark but hoping all the same.
Leaving the more suburban neighborhoods, Buffy cut through the back alleys, taking a route that she and Spike had patrolled before, knowing that it was the fastest way to her destination.
Walking down a familiar alleyway, Buffy closed her eyes when the signatures of dozens of vampires seemed to slam into her. Relaxing slightly when she realized it was coming in the direction of the demon bar located further in the shadows, Buffy slowly made her way to the other end of the alley, ignoring the overwhelming desire to follow the path to instant gratification.
“Hard to resist, isn’t it?”
Whirling around at the sound of the voice, Buffy watched warily as a man approached her from the shadows.
“And what would that be?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she sized him up. He looked almost as if he could be a harmless, middle-aged man with his kind eyes and grizzled beard. But there was something else, something that Buffy knew lay below the surface. A power… a need for something.
“They call to you, don’t they?” he replied, gesturing toward the vampire bar. “The cravings you have to endure.”
Buffy nearly closed her eyes as his gravelly voice seemed to entrance her with a security she wasn’t used to feeling from a stranger.
“Who are you?”
The man’s lips quirked up as he took another step toward her. “Someone who wants to help you. Who wants to see you at peace.”
Buffy’s eyes widened when she remembered the feeling of being watched, as if something was always in the shadows, studying her. “You’ve been following me.”
“I had to see if you were worthy.”
“For what?” she asked through clenched teeth, her spine stiffening when he took yet another step toward her.
“For this,” he replied, holding out a vial of green liquid.
Buffy didn’t make a move to take it from him, her eyes slowly traveling from the vial to the man’s eyes and back again. “I’m not supposed to take things from strangers,” she said with a sardonic smile.
“You want something to alleviate the guilt, don’t you?” he asked, his hand never wavering as he offered her the liquid. “To know that there is something in your life that you can have control over again.”
Buffy nearly swayed toward the offering as his words washed over her, nearly calming the need she was having by just being close to whatever substance it was. “What is it?” she asked in a breathless voice, hoping she didn’t sound as eager to try the potential form of relief.
“Something that will make the pain go away.”
Looking into the man’s eyes, Buffy stared at him for a long moment, the temptation growing as she inhaled sharply. “For how long?”
“A few hours.”
“Why are you trying to help me?”
“You’re a warrior,” he replied, watching her carefully. “Someone chosen to fight the very things I hate most. To see you addicted to them has become almost sickening.”
Buffy stared at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend how this stranger could see something in herself that Spike couldn’t even see.
“Take it,” he continued, walking toward her. “Inject a small dose when the craving is at its worst.”
Hesitantly stretching her arm out, Buffy nearly shuddered as the vial was dropped into her palm. Staring at it for a moment, she tried to control her breathing. “What is it?”
Looking up, she was surprised to see the man’s back as he disappeared down the alley. Trembling as the vampires that were only a few doors away seemed to overpower her from a distance, Buffy closed her fist around it, taking a deep breath before looking up at the shape of the man in the distance.
“At least tell me your name!” she called out, watching as he didn’t even pause at the sound of her voice.
“My name is of no importance.”
Thanks so much to: kim, shelly, Mali, Priscilla, PhotographyNut, SarahandJamesFanatic, Cordykitten, RP, Lyndsy & Crystal Pegasus for reviewing!
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry about not having any updates - I've had an amazing lack of computer/internet the last couple of months. Reviews would be very much appreciated, since I think interest is waning in this fic (I hope to have another chapter very soon!)