~Prologue~
Buffy was running, running so fast she thought her heart was going to burst right out of her chest, but yet she didn’t slow down. Because she was running against time, and she had to keep going, had to get back to her lover before it was too late. One single thought kept running through her head over and over again, repeating itself like a mantra; ‘please don’t let me be too late, please let me make it, I’m coming, baby, just hold on…’
Finally spotting the large white building that had been her home for the last two years, Buffy almost sobbed with relief of finally being there, and when she reached the front porch, she rushed inside, taking the stairs two steps at a time, until she was standing outside the door that led into the apartment. Almost tearing the door off its hinges, she finally managed to get inside and flew through the rooms in search for her lover.
The apartment was dark and quiet, and for a moment she thought that no one was home, that the place was empty. The hope was starting to fill her, he hadn’t been home after all, she had been worrying for nothing, he was safe. Then she opened the door that led into the bedroom. Turning the light on, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright light, and she blinked a couple of times to get them to adjust faster. Then she screamed.
She’d seen blood before, but not like this, not this much. It was everywhere, and there he was in the middle of it, face down on the floor, covered in his own blood, and she couldn’t stop screaming. She was afraid of going closer, knowing that the second she would touch him it would all be over, she had been too late after all. Coherent thoughts had long since ceased to run through her mind, and all she could do now was drop to her knees beside the fallen man on the floor, the only man she would ever love, the love of her life, her soul mate.
Buffy didn’t cry, because crying would make it all real, crying would be the same as admitting to herself that he was dead and she refused to do that, because he wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be. Instead she pulled his cold, lifeless body into her arms, shaking him and screaming his name, begging him to wake up, begging him to come back to her, to not be gone. But of course he didn’t answer, didn’t open his beautiful, blue eyes and tell her to stop yelling, didn’t tell her that he was all right, because he couldn’t, and he would never be able to tell her anything again.
So she kept screaming, hysterically, furiously pounding her small fists on his bleeding chest, ignoring the still flowing blood that was now covering her as well. She couldn’t stop, because if she stopped screaming, she would have to face the fact that he was gone, and that would kill her as well. Eventually she had screamed herself hoarse, but yet she kept whispering his name, pleading for a miracle that wouldn’t happen.
When the police and the paramedics finally arrived, she had withdrawn into her own private world where he was still alive and safe, where they were still happily together and no one could ever touch them, all the time still whispering his name. One of the paramedics knelt beside her, trying to get her attention. He leaned closer to hear what she was whispering.
Buffy just sat there on the floor, rocking his body back and forth, unaware of the people around her. If she never stopped saying his name he would come back to her, he would realize that she couldn’t go on living without him, and wake up. So that was what she did, over and over again, just kept begging for him to return to her. ‘Wake up, baby. Baby, wake up, please, William, wake up!’
~three years later~
Spike parked his car; a black 1958 DeSoto, in the parking lot behind the Sunnydale Mall, and got out. He pulled out a packet of cigarettes and his old zippo lighter from the pocket of his leather duster, and lighted one of the cigarettes with a sigh. So, this was it? The town was so… small. Having lived his entire life so far in London, a small town like this felt almost suffocating. But he had decided to start a new life, and if doing so meant that he would have to get as far away from his old life as possible, than so be it. Still it felt weird, being this far away from home and not knowing a single soul, except for his uncle who he hadn’t seen for years.
He supposed he should consider himself lucky, he had already been promised a job and a place to stay, although the job itself seemed a bit… odd. His uncle; Rupert Giles, owned a magic shop here in town called ‘The Magic Box’. Spike didn’t believe in magic and stuff like that, in fact, he thought the whole idea of opening a magic shop in the first place seemed rather stupid, but who was he to complain? After all, it wasn’t likely that he would get a job somewhere else, with his past record. He realized he should just be grateful for the opportunity and keep his opinion about magic to himself.
He spotted the shop right away; it was hard to miss with the large sign saying ‘The Magic Box’ right above the entrance. Right, this was it, no turning back. Taking a final drag on his cigarette, he tossed it to the ground and walked up to the front door. Although he would have denied it to anyone who would have dared to suggest so, he was a bit nervous. This was his last chance, he couldn’t screw this up. If he did, if he couldn’t live up to his uncle’s expectations, then what would he do? He couldn’t exactly go back to where he came from now, could he? So, he took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
TBC
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I got the idea for this story a couple of months ago, but decided to ignore it and focus on my other stories. But well, what can I say? Here it is. It's a bit different from my other stories, I think. And I have no idea if you're gonna like it. This first chapter is all I have so far, and I will keep writing on Saving You until it's finished. But I'm curious to find out if anyone will be interested in this story, so I decided to post what I have. Like it or hate it, please let me know what you think! A huge thanks to Tammy for betaing! :)