[Reviews - 190]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 4358 times

- Text Size +




Chapter 6 – In Pain


Spike stood out in the garden, smoking a cigarette, while he stared up at the
moon. He felt Buffy behind him but didn’t let himself turn to look at her.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, pet?” Spike replied, exhaling a large puff of smoke.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Spike nervously licked his lips before looking over his shoulder. She was
standing in the doorway, hugging her arms around her thin body as she
watched him timidly. “No, luv…you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Buffy bit her lip before taking a few steps toward him. “You don’t like me
very much, do you?” she asked quietly.

Spike smiled slightly as he looked at the ground. “I like you just fine,
Buffy.”

“It’s just…after I sang for Lorne…”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, pet,” he said softly, finally looking
over at her. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Can I help?”

“No,” he said quietly, looking away. It hurt too much to see her. He could
remember everything about that night. From the fake sparring, to the kiss
that wasn’t, to her shoving him to the ground. But then, he also remembered
Buffy letting him comfort her. Everything seemed to be a whirlwind in his
mind, and the one thing he always wanted was standing here beside him, but
she didn’t even know who he was...or who she was. He wasn’t even sure if he
wanted her to remember. She’d probably just kick him in the head and yell
at him for getting too close to her again.

Buffy stood quietly for several minutes before turning and walking back
inside. She knew that despite whatever he said, Spike was irritated with
her- she just didn’t know why. With a heavy sigh, she made her way upstairs
to her bedroom. She already felt at home in the hotel, but she was scared
to get too comfortable. Cordy had nearly bought out the mall, getting them
both new clothes, and everyone else always made an effort to check on her,
but Buffy knew that being happy wasn’t a permanent fixture in her life.

Sitting down on her bed, Buffy picked up the picture on her nightstand of
her and her parents. It was taken a few months before they died, and they
all looked so happy. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she stared
at the photo. She hadn’t cried since the funeral, feeling it was a sign of
weakness. She didn’t like to be weak in any circumstance. Even when her
foster father was beating her up, she never gave him the satisfaction of
crying. Now, one tear was turning into more as she remembered the events of
the past few months. She felt tired, drained to the point of not wanting to
do anything anymore.

Buffy had her GED, but she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life.
She felt lost and alone, despite the people that she was surrounded with.
Buffy slowly put the picture back on the nightstand before curling up in
the middle of her bed and bringing her hands up to cover her face as the
tears kept spilling down her cheeks. She quietly sobbed into her hands,
wishing that all the pain would go away, even though she knew it was
worthless to waste her time making such foolish wishes.

* * * * *

Spike slowly walked back to his bedroom when he heard her. His vampire
senses could hear every tiny sob that she was obviously trying to keep
concealed. For a minute, he fought the urge to go in there. This was
Buffy- she would get over whatever was bothering her. Then, at the same
time, this was a girl that he didn’t know as Buffy. She had the looks, the
memories, but inside, she didn’t seem to be that similar to the woman he once
loved. Spike tried to refuse the feelings that her sobs were causing, but
he felt too protective of her to let her be hurting.

Ignoring the voice that was warning him not to get too close, Spike quietly
opened the door and slipped in her room. He didn’t bother knocking, knowing
that she needed someone, and she would try and act like everything was okay,
if given the time.

He stared at the tiny girl for a moment. Her back was to him and shaking
slightly with the force of her crying. Taking a deep unneeded breath, Spike
laid down on the bed and gathered her into his arms. He wasn’t sure what he
was expecting, maybe for her to shove him away or yell at him. He even
expected her to jump at the feel of a virtual stranger getting so close to
her. What he didn’t expect was for her to roll over and bury her face in
his chest.

Spike stayed quiet through her tears, not sure how to comfort her except for
being there. Her tiny hands clutched at his shirt as she slowly began to
calm down.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern.

“I just miss them so much,” she whispered.

“Your parents?”

Buffy nodded, never raising her eyes to his, as she sniffled, trying to get
some semblance of control back.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled quietly.

“It’s okay, luv.”

Buffy slowly pulled away, looking at him through bloodshot eyes. “Will you
stay?”

“I don’t think that’s such a-“

“Just until I fall asleep. Please?”

Spike considered it for a minute before nodding. “Alright then.”

Buffy gave him a grateful smile before closing her eyes and moving closer to
him. Spike closed his eyes as well, not noticing when she went to sleep.

* * * * *

“Death is your art. You make it with your hands, day after day. That final
gasp. That look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know: What's it like?
Where does it lead you? And now you see, that's the secret. Not the punch
you didn't throw, or the kicks you didn't land. Every Slayer... has a death
wish. Even you.”


Buffy sat up in bed, gasping for air, her hand clutching at her chest.

“What is it, luv? What’s wrong?” Spike asked as he woke up.

Getting her breathing under control, Buffy slowly turned to him. “What’s a
Slayer?”

She watched as Spike froze, his eyes widening slightly at the question.
“Why do you want to know?”

“I was dreaming about it. Something about Slayers and death.”

Spike glanced down, trying to figure out what to tell her, before looking up
and meeting her eyes again. “A Slayer kills vampires, pet.”

”How would I know what they are or what they’re even called?”

Spike nervously licked his lips before answering, “You’re not ready to
know.”

“How do you know? When will I be ready?”

Spike stayed quiet, not looking at her. He couldn’t tell her who she was,
or used to be- she’d think he was crazy. Spike suddenly looked up at her,
meeting her eyes. “Why did you think I would know about Slayers?”

He saw her nervously pull at a thread from the comforter. “It was your
voice,” she said quietly. “I think you were talking to me. Something about
‘death is your art’, and ‘every slayer has a death wish.’

Spike’s jaw clenched as he rose from the bed. “And the other night? When
you dreamed about Angel being a vampire- was that me telling you?”

Buffy stayed silent as she nodded.

“Right then,” Spike said, backing toward the door. “I think…maybe you
should talk to Wes in the morning. I’ll see you later.”

“Spike, wait! What does it-“

She watched as the door shut behind him, more confused now than when she
woke up.

Spike quickly made his way to his room, nearly slamming the door behind him.

“Her memories are coming back,” he murmured to himself, running a hand
through his hair. “Stay away from her, Spike,” he muttered in a warning
tone. “You’ll get close, just to lose her again. She won’t choose you,
mate. You’ve known that for years.”





You must login (register) to review.