Running Up That Hill
He sat starring at the stone like every other night, “Every night I save you,” echoing through his head. His beautiful slayer, cold alone under the earth where she should never be; she was fire and should have been consumed by fire but they refused. The tears trailed down his face unnoticed as he sets a bunch of violets at the base of the stone. She should have still been here alive and well, happy, but it was not so. He was left, not even alive just left to keep his promise and to continue on loving her. Once again Spike prayed.
~~~
The smell of violets enhanced with slayer blood didn’t hit him until she was half way down the stairs. She’s still the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, tilting his head he looks into her eyes and sees they aren’t as bright as they used to be. Watching her lift her hands to her shirt he understands what she had to do, where the smell of blood is from.
“What did you do?” He hears Dawn squeak a reply but doesn’t focus on the words, “Her hands.”
More mumbled words are exchanged before he leads her into the living room, sitting across from her he just stares at her hands before glancing at her face when she questions how long she’s been gone.
“Hundred forty-seven days yesterday. Uh ... hundred forty-eight today,” cracking a smile for her benefit, “'Cept today doesn't count, does it?” Needing to know how bad off she is he continues, “How long was it for you... where you were?”
Her answer of “longer” was precious to him, just the sound of her voice, that reassurance to go with the physical contact that she is here with him made it easier to believe. Gazing at her with adoration he didn’t sense the brood rush up the porch and through the door until he heard the yelling. Knowing that if he stayed conflict would arise he slipped out the door.
He would still keep watch over this new stone where she would lay, but at least this time he would be able to hear her heartbeat and the breath move in and out of her body. Each night would continue the same, violets and prayers.
~~~
Watching from the sidelines, listening to her sing he felt her pain and saw her begin to spin. Stepping forward he was pulled into the song with her, “The pain that you feel, only can heal by living. You have to go on living so one of us is living.”
Watching the tears form in her eyes before she pushed them back caused him to feel more torn than ever. He wanted her hear but couldn’t stand to see her so sad. His arms still firmly planted on her shoulders he looked directly into her eyes trying to convey all his love in that one look. More violets were lain out and more prayer said that night over any other before.
~~~
She had passed out, she never willingly stayed here to sleep, she came felt and left, never wanting to feel his love. However, when she was like this he would paint his love onto her, through feather light touches and breathe. Through whisper words and looks of longing, he conveyed all his love.
His fingers tracing small patterns on the small of her back where he wished to touch in public, to show how she belonged to him. He inhaled the smell of her hair, the salty sweat smell of hours of his lovemaking and her fucking mixed with to his surprise and delight violets. He whispered his love into the space between her shoulder blades trying to feed them through to her heart while his breath blew gentle against her. Tracing words on love onto spin and arms, he gazed at her closed eyes wishing just once that they open and reflect back a fraction of what he felt for her. For her to open her eyes and stay right where she was with him and his love. He continued with the violets and prayers.
~~~
He wasn’t supposed to die, they were supposed to be able to get their happily ever after. That’s why they never worked with anyone else because they were meant for each other. He was different, he always came back even after she beat him, screamed at him and rejected his love, he never left. Then finally, when she returned his love he left, not because she waited too long but because he loved her too much, he loved her enough to give her a life in exchange for his.
She prayed for the first time ever. She never prayed not about Angel, Mom, Glory or the First. She prayed for him and her. She prayed for him to know that without him there in those first days with his love she wouldn’t have survived. She prayed for him to know that every time he touched her with his love when he thought she was asleep, she was awake and fighting her heart rate and breathe the whole time to not give herself away. She prayed for him to know that she was never fucking him, she was always making love whether she would admit it or not. She prayed.
She stares at the stone like every other night, “Every night I save you,” echoes through her mind. Her beautiful, alabaster lover, so full of passion it burned him up. All that was left was the stone, which was how it should be. Silent tears trailed down her face as she laid her first batch of violets at the base of the stone. He should be here at her side, laughing, living, dancing. Instead, she is left to do her duty without him by her side; she must go through the motions to keep the hundreds of thousands of slayers safe and to keep loving him. Once again, Buffy prayed.
End
P.S. This is my first posted spuffy fic ever so reviews would be greatly appreciated. Any constructive critisism you have let me know. Also I normally only write fics on request, for example this one was written at the request of a friend. Thank you for reading and I hope to hear what you think.
Selina
Author's Chapter Notes:
I did take some lines from season seven and tried not to go off canon to much but used my imagination for the things that we did not see.
Please listen to this song while reading this fic, it is what inspired me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uaqPtPqdgI&feature=related
Please listen to this song while reading this fic, it is what inspired me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uaqPtPqdgI&feature=related