No one knows what it's like to be the bad man, to be the sad man... behind blue eyes...

Spike stayed huddled in his corner for... he didn’t know how long. He just sat there, hoping and praying that she would come back to him soon. That she would come back to him as she was supposed to be. He was going crazy, and the waiting was making him even crazier.

He hadn't moved, he hadn't slept. He just waited, staring, never blinking or moving his eyes from hers. All the while, listening to the words the First had been whispering to him as he stared at her lifeless body.

Her eyes were open, staring at him as her body lay amidst the dust of the other vampires. She would be furious with him.

She will never forgive him. She will hate him.

She will dust him.

And no one knows what it's like to be hated, to be fated to telling only lies...

“Do you know what you have done?” the First asked him, disguising itself as the woman he loved. Spike refused to take his eyes off the real Buffy, but listened to the First's words closely. “Do you know how badly you’ve screwed up?”

Spike took a deep breath, is voice wavering as he spoke the single word. “Yes.”

The First laughed, holding its hand to its stomach. “Do you think she will believe you when she wakes? That it wasn't really you? A recently souled vampire―with no proof of that fact―was mind controlled into siring her by your ghost. But wait! That's the sticky part, now isn't it, Spike? I didn't ask you to turn her. The blame for that is all. On. You."

“She will believe me. She will understand,” he whispered, saying it over and over again like a mantra. He could be dreaming, couldn't he? He had to be. He would never hurt Buffy. Not like this.

He loved her the way she was; human. Beautifully human, life pumping through her body in the form of the red liquid he lived on. Yes, there was always that part of his mind that told him to take her. To taste her. To make her his. But he never thought he would actually do it, he would never let himself act on it. But then it happened. While he was under mind control, no less, but it still happened.

He’d turned Buffy. His Golden Goddess was now a vampire, her life, power and courage had been snuffed out by his own actions.

It was all his fault. He should have gotten himself out of it, shook it off somehow. He should have ignored the First and its taunting, its singing. He should have…

There was no point in the ‘should haves’ and ‘would haves’, because he couldn’t change the past. What’s done was done.

But my dreams they aren't as empty as my conscience seems to be. I have hours, only lonely...

“Maybe she’ll understand. Maybe she will...” Spike whimpered, resigning himself to his fate.

“She'll awake soon, and we can test that little theory out. You see,” the First morphed into Angel and bent down so he was face to face with Spike. “She doesn't love you. She will dust you as though you were nothing.”

‘Angel’ stood up, running a hand down a lapel of his jacket, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles. “You're looking at the man—or rather, vampire—that she does love. If it had been me who had turned her... Well, let's just say... the road you’re about to go down wouldn't be the road she'd put me on.” Angel smirked then winked at him, disappearing with a strange yellowish-green light.

Spike continued looking at the fallen Slayer, wondering how many more hours he would be sitting here, waiting for her to wake up. “Come on, come on, Buffy. Wake up,” he muttered.

He hadn’t planned to turn her when he’d entered the cellar with her yesterday. He was just going to show her the bodies, stake them then go home so she could figure something out to fix him. However, it had other plans. The First showed up, singing that little song in his ear and he couldn’t control himself. He just went ballistic.

~FLASHBACK~

Buffy had finished dusting the fledglings, wiping the dust off her hands on her pant legs.

“Spike,” she barked, causing the shaken vampire to jump, shortly coming out of his personal guilt trip.

Then it happened. Buffy was walking toward him, a disappointed look in her eye and the First began to sing. That stupid little song that always made him lose his mind.

He jumped up and Buffy stopped, staring at him in a mixture of confusion and fear. “What're you doing?” she asked, taking a tentative step back.

My love is vengeance that's never free...

He ignored her as he advanced, his demon visage sliding into place. “Why don't you love me like I love you?”

“Spike? You… you don't want to do this...” Buffy said calmly, continuing her retreat from him.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice muffled by his fangs. “I'm tired of you treating me like the dirt you walk on. How many times have I proved myself to you? How many times have I saved you or Dawn, or even Xander? I did it so you would love me.”

He had backed her up into a corner. He took the last step toward her, their bodies flush against each other. He could smell the fear mixed with her arousal, intoxicating and musky. He started to grind himself against her, his hands slowly sliding up her sides. “I blame you, luv.”

No one knows what it’s like to feel these feelings like I do, and I blame you!

Buffy's breath hitched in her throat, but held her body perfectly still. She was stuck. She didn't want to hurt him, but she didn't want to lose her life either. If she could keep the conversation going, maybe she could calm him down. “Why do you blame me, Spike?” she asked, her voice soft and soothing.

A soft smile spread across his face as his hand lifted up and ghosted down the side of her face. “Because...” he replied, his smile slowly vanishing. He grabbed her by the back of her neck, hauling her body forward until his mouth hovered beside her ear. “You never let me feel anythin' but your hatred...”

He left the sentence open and ambiguous as his fangs sank into the soft skin of her neck. He took long pulls, crushing her between the wall and his body as she squirmed, whimpering his name.

When he felt her pulse slow, he retracted his fangs, slipping into his human guise as he tongued the twin puncture holes. “If you’d have just tried to love me...” he whispered, groaning as he used the blade of a table-saw beside them to slice his wrist open.

He brought his bloody wrist up and held it to her lips, making sure a good amount of his oozing blood went down her throat. “Tried even a little, tiny bit, I wouldn't resent you as much as I do now.”

He felt her mouth suckling at the gash in his skin, pulling the blood into her mouth with the last bit of strength she had.

No one bites back as hard on their anger. None of my pain and woe can show through

“You never allowed me to feel what I was feeling, to voice it. I had to hold everythin' in, bite every word of affection I wanted to tell you.”

He swiftly picked her up, listening to the last beats of her heart as he added his third slayer to his list of kills. She was staring up at him still, her eyes glassy and her lips slowly turning blue. He stared down at her in mock affection, belying every ounce of hatred his demon held against her at the moment.

“Now, you will be one of my kind, pet. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I will feel you. Know everywhere you go, everywhere you have been. I own you, now. You're mine.”

He kissed her forehead as she took her last breath.

As if someone had flipped a switch, he was himself again, the purest form of his demon squashed back down and the soul and chip emerged.

He stared down at the body of his beautiful slayer and he gasped in shock, horror and disgust. He dropped her, letting go of her as if she were a cross and grimaced at the hollow thud her body made as she hit the dirt floor.

He couldn't take his eyes off her as he stumbled backwards, back into the corner he was in before his memory lapsed.

~END FLASHBACK

The tears fell freely from his eyes, the guilt and despair rolling off him in waves.

He couldn't help it. He killed her. He drank from her like she was a stranger, treating her with about as much respect too. He felt horrible.

It was only fair that she would end his life. Dust him and laugh as he crumbled. There was no way he could deserve her love now.

No one knows what it's like to be mistreated, to be defeated behind blue eyes...

His head sank into his hands and he sobbed his grief with everything that he could muster. The new soul that inhabited his body along with the demon warred with each other, his demon feeling joy as his soul felt sorrow.

No one knows how to say that they're sorry, and don't worry, I'm not telling lies.

But my dreams they aren't as empty as my conscience seems to be. I have hours, only lonely. My love is vengeance that's never free.

No one knows what it's like to be the bad man, to be the sad man behind blue eyes...

TBC

She would be awake soon... She would open her beautiful eyes and look around, take in the surroundings, hear all the commotion with her newly heightened hearing and take her first unneeded breath. God, she was so going to hate him.



He had turned her into the one thing she feared to become, but the worst part of it was that a part of him was happy about it, ecstatic even. He was bubbling with joy over the fact that he now had the chance to be with her forever, his love for her stretching beyond eternity.



He snorted. 'Yeah, be with her forever. That's exactly what she will want,', he thought, turning his face away from her for the first time in hours. He couldn't stand to see her like this, so... limp and unmoving. He was used to seeing her so vibrant, so full of life. He took that from her. He took everything from her.



She would more than likely stake him because she had no ties to him. Aside from the childe/sire connection, she had nothing to hold her to him. There were no records, that he knew of, of a Slayer being turned before this. There was no knowledge of how much a Slayer would retain of their former selves after they have crossed over to the demon world. It was possible that Buffy would still be Buffy, but with bloodlust. If she were still just Buffy, provided she keeps her soul, she would have no problems staking him and walking back to her life with the Scoobies and the potentials, he was certain of it.



“You claimed her too.” The First said in the form of Darla, suddenly popping herself into existence directly in front of him, effectively blocking his view of Buffy.



When Spike looked up incredulously, obviously not knowing of what 'claim' Darla was talking about, she continued, “You know, the claim you placed on her while you drained her...”she dragged out and rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips as she waited, giving him the chance to process.



Spike scoffed as he leaned to the side so he was able to fix his gaze on Buffy once again. “Reading my thoughts now, too?” he asked, his eyes never leaving his childe.



“Don't you know it, Willie.” Darla giggled as she knelt down to his eye level, once again blocking his view of Buffy. “I can do whatever I want with you, and you're powerless to stop me.”



Spike puffed out his chest, trying to look more defiant, even though he was weakened, defeated. “I won' let you control me anymore,” he replied with what he thought to be certainty.



“So, if I told you to go and stake her, right now, you wouldn't?”



Spike's eyes widened in shock, but he shook his head, motioning ‘No‘, desperately trying to convince himself that wouldn‘t be possible. He knew The First could still control him, no matter what he thought, and it terrified him that it could make something like staking Buffy possible.



“Oh, really?” Darla said, then shook her head as she laughed manically, before she started to hum the song that triggered his obedience.



Spike's hands shot up to his ears, covering them as he closed his eyes and started to hum his own tune, trying to drown out her voice.



He could still hear her in his mind, so he hummed louder, shaking his head. It didn't matter though, he could feel the anger inside of him building. The loss of control and hatred had sunk in, filling every fiber of his being.



His eyes snapped open and he suddenly stopped humming. His hands moved from his ears as a slow, evil smile spread across his face. Darla took a step to the side to allow him a clear visual of Buffy.



Standing up quickly, Spike grabbed the wooden shovel handle that the Slayer was using as a stake before and he walked the five steps it took to get to her motionless body. He raised the makeshift stake up, aiming for Buffy's heart as his demon started to hum along with the tune that continued behind him. He brought the stake down swiftly, but the First hollered for him to stop, so he did, only centimeters from her heart. He stayed completely still, his breathing heavy and his eyes trained on the spot where his childe's un-beating heart was.



Darla chuckled and snapped her fingers, successfully releasing him from submission. “She is about to wake up,” she said before she blinked out of existence.



Spike shook his head out of the daze he was in and gasped, fully aware of the stake that was now poised over Buffy's heart. He threw it away with a roar, then slumped to the floor, picking her head up to rest on his lap. “Come on now, luv. Wake up,” he whispered, lightly rocking them back and forth.



As if she heard him, she suddenly woke up. Her eyes snapped open and she quickly jumped to her feet. Her eyes darted around, not remembering where she was or how she'd gotten there. All she could remember was...



“Spike?” she whimpered and turned around, searching for him, but was unable to locate him.



Suddenly, she felt someone clinging to her legs, nuzzling against her thigh and sobbing words of apology. She placed her hands on his shoulders. She had difficulty sorting out all of the emotions she was feeling, but the one emotion that stood out perfectly was the uncontrollable rage that was bubbling up inside of her chest, trying to claw its way out.



She savagely pushed him away, turning around once again so she wouldn’t have to look at him. She walked towards the farthest wall and reached out for it, placing her palms on the cool, scratchy surface to support her body. She turned her back to the wall and leaned against the brick and started to shake. What was going on with her? Why did she feel this way, and why the hell wasn't she breathing?



That fact only added to her disorientation, but freaked her out the most. She took a deep breath and winced as she felt her lungs expand for the first time in what felt like weeks. She coughed and rubbed her chest, trying to soothe the shooting pain, but it didn't help. She slowed her breathing down to short jerky gasps and threw her head back, harshly connecting with the wall behind her. She didn't care though, she squeezed her eyes closed and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.



She couldn’t figure it out, didn’t know what to do, couldn’t speak. She tried to calm herself down enough to be able to deal with everything. When she felt calm enough, she looked up as it all flooded back to her. That night-following Spike into the basement, fighting the vamps... Spike biting her.



He turned her. He said rude and hurtful things to her before he drained her dry, turning her into one of him. She felt rage rip through her, finally working it's way through her entire body. She lowered her head so she could look at him. When her eyes finally landed on his, she was angry for a matter of two measly seconds, when it suddenly disappeared, like someone pushed a button and released all the pressure in her body. How could she be angry at that face?



Spike was still sitting in the same place she had awoken in, his knees bent up to his chest and his arms now around himself instead of clinging to her legs. He was slightly rocking back and forth as he stared up at her, tears slowly sliding down his cheeks. He looked so broken, so defeated.



She felt a strong need to comfort him, to console him, to just make him feel better any way possible. She took a shaky step toward him as if she was being mindlessly pulled, but she tried to squash that feeling down. This was Spike, for Christ's sake! She wasn't supposed to have warm fuzzies toward him!



She tried for a moment to cover her feelings for him with anger, but it wasn't working. All she wanted to do was scream to the high heavens that he was hers and there was nothing anyone could do about it.



She felt her face shift, changing into her vampire visage. She leaned forward and let out a deep roar, causing Spike to flinch. When she finished, she just stood there, watching as a slow, shy smile started to spread over Spike's face. He knew that the vampiric roar wasn't out of anger, but of affection and staking one's territory.



She felt the need to show possesion over him, but didn’t understand what that meant.



Her head was spinning, everything going out of focus, as she fought the urge to bend down and bite him.

Her basic instincts telling her that would strengthen the childe/sire bond, but she wasn’t ready for that just yet.



Instead, she ran, ignoring the pleading calls from behind her, telling her to stop.





TBC

The cool night air was pushing against her, rushing through her hair as she ran away from Spike. Running away from everything that she needed behind her. She ran with no destination in mind, with no certain place she was headed; the only thing on her mind was to run.



Her chest was starting to hurt from her deep, unnecessary breathing, so she stopped her gasps of air, ignoring the subconscious message to breath. The need to breathe was something of the past. Oxygen wasn't something she needed anymore, so she was confused as to why she still felt the urge to do so. Instead of pondering it for too long, she wrote it off as only a habit from her human life.



She ran across a street, into traffic, dodging the cars with her lightning fast reflexes that were enhanced slightly from being turned.

'Rushing, racing and running in circles; moving so fast that I'm forgetting my purpose. The blur of the traffic is sending me spinning…'



She knew it would be best if she stopped, take time to deal with her turning, but ignoring something like this was what she was good at. Running and hiding from things she didn't understand and the feelings that she felt was something she felt comfortable with doing.



How could Spike, of all the vampires in the world, turn her? Why did Spike turn her? Was his goal to break her trust completely? Did he want to break her trust like this? She couldn't comprehend why he had suddenly changed so drastically last night. She knew it wasn’t because he hated her; Spike loved her, he told her, showed her even, enough times for her to believe that. So why had he all of a sudden gotten so angry with her that he felt the need to do the worst thing imaginable—turn her.

She was so caught up in her thoughts—stuff she had previously chosen not to think about—she didn't realize where she was headed before it was too late.



There she stood in the front lawn of her house, her eyes flitting between the dark rooms and silently thanking every god there was that everyone was sleeping. She couldn’t go back to them, they couldn’t see her like this, at least not yet. They wouldn’t accept her like this, not unless she had a soul.



Was it possible that she retained her soul?



'Getting nowhere..'



No longer feeling the need to run, she walked away as she focused on the important question; did she retain her soul? She didn’t feel the desire to hurt her friends or family, but did that mean she had her soul? As much as she didn’t want to hurt her friends or family, she did feel the need to hunt-to feed-to kill. Spike was right that it wasn‘t just the hunger for blood, it was the need and want.



The feeling was so strong, but she did her best to ignore it, even as a couple came walking toward her. They were laughing, smiling, obviously having a good time, and that angered her. They didn’t deserve to be so happy when she was so miserable!



Her natural instincts kicked in as she found herself walking toward them, stalking them, thinking of numerous ways she could kill the both of them. She wanted to squash their happiness, destroy their lives like hers had been.



When she was close enough, she crossed her arms over her chest and cleared her throat to gain their attention. When they looked to her she asked, “Having a good evening?” As she spoke, she looked at the girl closely. She looked familiar to Buffy.



“Buffy? Buffy Summers?” the girl asked. “Ohmigod, do you remember me?” When Buffy shook her head implying ‘no‘, the girl continued. “I'm Nancy, remember? Nancy from your English class? I sat in front of you...”



Ah yes, the girl Buffy stole answers from that time she was able to read minds. “Right! Nancy, hi! It's been so long!” Buffy said, trying to sound cheery and friendly. With her smile never wavering, she continued, “I'm going to kill you now.”



Nancy's face fell into a look of shock and confusion. “Wha...What?”



Buffy’s only answer was a quick twist of the boy’s neck, killing him. She pulled Nancy toward her by her frizzy blonde hair. “He was cute, too bad I killed him so fast, could have had a little fun with him.” Buffy laughed before she slid her fangs into the other girls neck.



Nancy whimpered and cried out, scratching at Buffy's back as the blood was being pulled out of her in large gulps.



Just as she heard Nancy's heart start to slow, Buffy violently pulled her fangs from her neck. “It was nice seeing you again. Was it as nice for you?” She asked sarcastically.



She let the body slide out of her arms to land on the ground with a thud. She never thought of how satisfying that sound could be for a vampire, until she heard it for herself. She wiped her mouth of the blood that had gushed out while feeding, pulling her hand away from her mouth she stared at her blood soaked fingers. She could feel the warmth from the blood still as it glistened under the glow of the streetlight above.



'My head and my heart are colliding, chaotic. Pace of the world, I just wish I could stop it. Try to appear like I've got it together. I'm falling apart...'



She looked down at the two bodies and gasped, shaken from her instinctual daze. She took a step back to further herself from the destruction.



“No...”she whispered, her eyes never leaving the lifeless bodies. “No...”



She started to shake her head in denial, trying to dislodge the memory of the smell of fear, the taste of the girls blood and the feeling of triumph over killing the both of them. She brought shaky hands up and clutched them to her chest, the guilt and sadness almost overtaking her. She could no longer look at the corpses anymore, she had to get away.



Once again, she ran.

　

'Save me...'

　

With tears running down her cheeks, Buffy kept running, picking up speed with every second that passed.



What was happening to her?



She needed Spike, needed him to tell her what was going on and how to deal with every feeling that was going through her. He would know, right? Being a vampire for a century and a half would give you some insight on how to deal with everything. She knew that he could show her everything she needed to know as a vampire, but her pride wouldn’t let her go to him.



'Somebody take my hand, and lead me. Slow me down...'



She didn't stop running until she reached the border of Sunnydale. She looked up to come face to face with the ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ sign. The sight caused her to laugh at the irony. There was no way she could leave Spike, her family, her friends, her life.



She stood there, torn between freedom and her slayer duties.



Odd that the thought came to her, she was a vampire, so why did she want to slay her own kind? Maybe that was the official fact that proved she still had her soul. It could be that the only reason she killed so easily was because she had newly risen and the urge was uncontrollable, but Spike could teach her, if she could only bring herself to go to him.



That could be wishful thinking though, she felt evil and soulless. God, she was so confused...



'Sometimes I fear that I might disappear. In the blur of fast forward I falter again. Forgetting to breathe, I need to sleep. I'm getting nowhere...'



She looked around for somewhere to sit, to rest, to just shut everything out.



'Tired of rushing, racing and running. I'm falling apart...'



In the distance she saw a secluded cave, walked over to the entrance and gingerly made her way inside. She hoped there was nothing in there because she wasn’t in any condition to fight. She had too many emotions buzzing through her head to fight properly. She was too distracted.



'Slow me down...'



When she reached the end of the cave unharmed, she collapsed to the ground, sobbing her grief onto the ground. She couldn't live this way. She had to stop it.



'Just show me. I need you to slow me down...'



She searched her pockets, hoping she had her stake. When she came up empty handed she was very disappointed. There was nothing she could use to end her life. Her demon was relieved at the fact, but her Slayer side was screaming in pain, in heartbreak.



There was one thing however, the sun would surely end her life. As she closed her eyes she silently vowed that she would walk into the morning sunlight. She tried desperately to block out the feelings that were continuously running through her since her turning. It would be so nice if she could go into the catatonic state she was in when Dawn was taken.



Oh God... Dawn...



'The noise of the world is getting me caught up. Chasing the clock and I wish I could stop it.'



Buffy was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize Spike had entered the cave and was now clutching her to his chest as he cooed into her ear softly. Her initial thought was to run, but she was so tired of running. She wanted to feel comforted the way only he was able to. She wanted to feel normal again, to feel anything but the total confusion, fear and anger.



Buffy pulled him closer until he was spooning against her back, his arms wrapped around her protectively and comfortingly. She rolled around and buried her face in his chest as she finally let all of her pain and confusion go so she could rest in the arms of her sire.



'Just need to breathe, somebody please, slow me down...'





TBC

Buffy felt herself slowly come out of her slumber, the feeling of cocoon warmth covering her because of a blanket that was placed over her. She stretched herself out until she felt her joints pop and her muscles loosen, readying herself for the day. Before Buffy opened her eyes, she thought about the extremely bizarre dream she had that night. Like Spike would ever turn her! He knew, very well, that to become a vampire would be her worst fear come true. She clawed her way out of her grave fairly recently, another fear she had. Spike wouldn’t dream of making her live through another fear from her 'I don’t ever wanna’ list. She giggled softly before she covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. Spike was one of the only people she could trust completely. She was confident that he would never hurt her.



Buffy rolled over, cuddled into the pillow beside her, continuing her thoughts of Spike. The more she thought of him, the more she appreciated all of the things he had done for her over the last few years. He took a beating from Glory to protect Dawn, kept his promise of protecting Dawn even after Buffy’s death, and let her use him to feel something other than the numbness that consumed her after her resurrection. Which okay, was horrible to do, and even as she protested what they had wasn‘t real, she knew it hurt him to know she didn’t return his feelings. Then he made the ultimate sacrifice, the ultimate gesture; he got his soul for her. He got it because of the massive guilt he had for attempting to do what no man, vampire, or otherwise, should do to a woman. What really mattered though, is that he did get it. Plus, all the little things he did along the way added up, too.



Spike loved her, unconditionally. There was no way Buffy could deny that. At first she thought that he believed he loved her, but really it was only a sick obsession. However, he’d proven time and time again that he more than believed it, he felt it, he truly loved her. Her stubbornness however, continued to find excuses; he couldn’t be a vampire, could barely pass as human, so what better way then to want to be accepted, if only grudgingly, by anyone—including the people that he once tried to kill. He would forever be the black sheep, even if anyone other than Buffy ever truly accepted him. She figured, it was better to be considered a black sheep than have nothing at all. Because if the chips were ever down, Buffy knew that Spike would turn to her, if not the entire Scooby gang. He did sort of find a place to belong within the gang, but that didn’t mean he had to continue to think he loved her, did it?



The more she thought about everything, the more it all became confusing and jumbled in her mind. There were so many ways that she could fight it, so many ways that she could deny his feelings for her. But she refused to do so anymore. She wanted to admit to her love for him. She would probably always love Angel, after all, who could forget their first love? Angel left her though, when things got rough, without attempting to find a loophole to his curse, maybe anchoring it, he just left instead. If Spike knew about the tribe in Africa that could give him his soul back, then it was possible Angel did as well. He could have fought to make his soul permanent, but he didn’t. He up and left with hardly a warning.



Then there was Riley to think about. When she was with him, it was never love. She cared for him, felt for him, but it was never love. She enjoyed his company, but she highly doubted the relationship would have lasted much longer; she couldn’t pretend for much longer. If the whole “Vampire Hooker” thing never happened, the relationship still would have ended, just not as badly. The fact that Riley did that though, bruised her ego and a gave her a severe complex, more than it broke her heart. Just like Angel though, he left when it could have been possible to let their relationship float for just a bit longer. He left even though she was there to try to stop him.



Lastly, there was Spike. Her very own, extremely obnoxious vampire, who unlike the other men, would stop at nothing to prove his undying love for her. Of course she was disgusted at first, wanted nothing to do with him, but in reality, that was just a front she put on. Even from the first time she laid eyes on him, in the alleyway, she thought he was brutally hot and all kinds of sexy. Then when she fought him for the first time, she knew he was one hell of a fighter, maybe her match even. With all that, she still couldn’t get past the fact that he was a soulless vampire. That was the fly in the ointment for her. Once he got chipped and he stuck around, did those all those things to help her, he started to grow on her. She got to know the man behind the demon. The part of William that Spike retained after his turning. The more she saw that man, the more she came to like him; the man and demon.



He still had moments, in which, Buffy wanted nothing more than to dust him, forget about him completely. However, no matter how many times he annoyed her to the point of thinking that, she would never be able to go through with it. A few years ago she would have been able to swiftly lift her stake, poised and ready, a quip on her lips to threaten him into doing whatever she wanted. Now, she couldn‘t even bear the thought of him not being in her life. Spike was her rock, a support, and in a way, he was her safety blanket. He made her feel safe, warm…sane.



Oh, and lets not forget the fact that he is really, really good in bed.



Buffy giggled again as she cuddled deeper into her pillow.



“Mornin’, Buffy,” came a small, shy voice from across the room.



Her eyes shot open, and she found Spike looking at her, as if he were a young boy, standing in front of his parents, willing to take whatever punishment they decided to give him. “Spike! What’re you doing in my—“



“I’m sorry, Buffy. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t make it stop, couldn’t do anything but listen to the words. That song... that bloody song...” he whimpered, holding one hand to his head, the other over his heart. “I didn’t mean to, I really didn’t, Buffy. Forgive me, please.”



Buffy was off the bed, to the other side of the room, by his side in a second, unaware that she had vamped out along the way. All she knew was that she had to stop the stake, that had suddenly appeared in his hand, and was plunging toward his chest.



“What the hell are you doing?!” she snarled, her words slightly muffled around her fangs. She’d barely made it to him in time. The stake had just pierced his skin, only needing a little further to turn him to dust. Not wanting to push him any further, she softened her voice, conveying how worried she was. “Why would you stake yourself?”



His eyes searched hers, as if looking for an answer she couldn’t possibly know. However, what he said next floored her.



“Don’t you remember, Buffy? What happened last night?”



It took a second to register, but when it did, it was as if he had poured a bucket of ice water over her head. She gasped as she stumbled back, the motel bed hitting the back of her legs. With nowhere to go, but down, she plopped down on the cushiony surface.



It was real. The nightmare she had was real, and there was nothing she could do about it. She was a vampire. And Spike was her Sire.



Everything came to her, all at once, assaulting her memory with every excruciating detail of her turning. The smell of her own blood, his nasty words, the feel of his teeth tearing at her flesh, her blood gushing out of her and into his mouth, the taste of his blood, as he forced the liquid down her throat. She remembered the last gasp of air she took, her heart stop beating, her body becoming cold.



“No,” she groaned, standing up and starting to pace. “It isn’t true. You wouldn’t do this to me. You know... you knew that... I don’t want this!”



Spike went over to her, grabbing her shoulders and turning her to face him. “That’s right, Buffy! I wouldn’t do this to you, remember that, yeah? There was someone else there, The First, it was singing, putting nasty thoughts in my noggin, telling me to take you, to taste you. I wouldn’t have done it, I swear! I just.. I couldn’t—“



“That doesn’t change the fact that it happened, Spike!” she all but screamed, pushing his hands off of her, hating the feel of his hands on her. “You still did it, regardless of who or what was there!”



“Please, Buffy, you have to—“



“I don’t have to do anything, Spike. You turned me. You took my life away from me! My family, my friends” She paused, trying to keep her emotions down enough to continue. “What are they going to think? You made me into the one thing, that I was destined to destroy, every night since I was fifteen!”



Spike watched her as she continued to pace, tears flowing freely as she tried to suss out her situation. He didn’t think it was possible, but he felt worse now than he had last night. Now that she was cognitive enough to realize what had happened to her, she was only confirming his previous thoughts. She hated him. Whatever progress he’d made in the way of having a chance with her was blown to hell. There was no way she would ever forgive him, and he couldn’t bring himself to blame her.



“I’m sorry, Buffy. I’ll just... I’m going to go,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” Spike turned to walk out of the motel room, his shoulders slumped in defeat.



Buffy froze, then suddenly spun around to see him walking away from her, leaving her. She didn’t understand what was going on with her. A part of her wanted him to leave, wanted to shout, ‘Good riddance!’ to his retreating back. However, the other part...the new part of her that she now realized, was completely and utterly in love with him, and wasn't afraid to show it, wanted him to stay.



That part wanted him to be with her always, wanted to find comfort in his embrace, try to figure out where to go from here, how to make things better. She didn’t want to be alone anymore.



She wanted her Sire.



“Spike,wait,” she said, never moving from her spot. When he turned toward her, hope and sadness swirled in his blue eyes. She knew in that moment, he was hurting just as much as she was. “What am I going to do without you?”



Within seconds, Buffy was wrapped up in Spike’s embrace, beside him on the bed, both holding onto the other as if their un-lives depended on it.



They stayed that way, both crying tears of uncertainty until they drifted off to sleep.



The First stood at the foot of the bed, watching the two blonde vampires nestled together, both breathing simultaneously, as if they were one being. “Well, damn,” the First said, clapping it’s hands loudly, causing Spike to wake up with a start. Buffy fidgeted a bit, then rolled over onto her other side, continuing her rest.



“Boy, was I wrong.”



“What the bloody hell do you want?” Spike snarled, his anger forcing his demon to the forefront. Although the form of Angel was standing in front of him, he knew it was the First. “Haven’t you done enough already?”



“Tsk, tsk,” The first, disguised as Angel said, waving a single finger at him. “Don’t want to piss me off, do ya’ boy?”



Spike’s face smoothed over, letting the demon slip away as he tried to rein in his anger. “What do you want?” he asked again, trying to sound less rude. It was right; he didn’t want to do anything to make the situation worse.



“I wanted to drop by, see how Buffy was handling the change. But obviously...” The First walked over to the sleeping Buffy, ghosting a handover her forehead as if to push her hair off her face. “She’s adjusting better than I thought she would.”



“No, she isn’t. She is just confused. The link to me, as her Sire, is the only thing keeping her from killing me, at least I think.” Spike said, barely able to keep himself from lunging at the form in front of him. He knew it was no use, he’d just pass through it, but he had had about enough of being it’s bloody lapdog.



“That’s a bit of alright, I guess,” it said, as it walked away from Buffy, letting Spike calm down a bit. It walked back to the foot of the bed as it morphed into Nikki Wood, the second Slayer he killed in New York. The sudden sting of guilt made Spike cringe, but he quickly pushed it to the side. “You see, there is something I over-looked in my plan. At first, I wanted you to turn her, then she’d kill you, then kill herself, unable to force herself to live as the one thing she hates the most. Then, to my surprise, I found out this juicy little piece of information that will make this so much more satisfying.”



Spike raised an eyebrow, eying the late Slayer with confusion. “An’ what’s that?”



“Uh-uhn. Not so fast, William. Not gonna give my secrets away that easily! Let’s just say...”Nikki tilted her head, as if trying to pick her words to be as cryptic as possible. “Something that wants her dead—just as bad as I do—is on its way, and you’re going to be just as powerless to stop it.”



TBC

Spike pondered what The First, in the form of Nikki Wood, had just said, as it vanished from the shabby motel room. Who or what, was on it’s way? He needed to prepare himself to defend his Childe, his Mate. It angered him that he couldn‘t. He wouldn‘t know what the threat was until the thing showed it‘s face.

There were numerous possibilities, that came to mind. It could be Angelus, but no, it puzzled him that he could have been awoken. The only way, he knew of, was a perfect moment of happiness to bring him out. As far as he knew, Buffy was the only one able to do that. Spike was certain that she hadn’t been to see Angel in a while. Also, if he had become his more evil self, Spike would have felt the change through the blood line.

That settled the possibility of him being the threat. It wasn’t and couldn’t be Angelus.

There was the possibility of Buffy’s friends, her family. Anything was possible with that lot. He was certain that Dawn and Anya wouldn’t do anything to harm Buffy; it was the others that posed a threat, The Whelp, Red, and The Watcher. Spike knew, very well, what they thought about vampires. They’re evil, soulless, need to be killed. The Watcher could be the biggest threat of them all. The council probably put an ‘In case of Slayer turned Vampire’ survival booklet in the job description manual. The Watcher could put it into effect the moment he found out about Buffy’s turning.

Then again, Buffy and Rupert have a relationship, that a daughter and father would have. That, and The Watcher knows there is more than just black and white in the demon world. The council, however, they seem to have an ‘If it isn’t human or animal, kill it’ mentality that…

The Council! That had to be it!

Quickly rolling over, he started to shake Buffy, trying to pull her out of her sleep.

“Buffy, pet, come on. Wake up for me, please?” he whispered, knowing full well, she could hear him perfectly. “I need to talk to you about something very important.”

“It couldn't wait until I woke up, myself?” Buffy asked as she rolled over to glare at Spike. “I don't wanna talk…wanna sleep.”

“You can sleep, just after we discuss this. We need to get moving, I don't know how much time we have.”

“Okay, what's the what? You're scaring me.”

“Well, while you were sleeping, I had a little visit from the First,” he said with so much venom in the sound of his voice, she was sure that the First felt a sting. “It said that its original plan to turn you so that you kill me, then kill yourself isn't panning out, so now it has something better planned.”

Buffy looked at him as if he had two heads, but nodded for him to continue. “It said, ‘Something that wants her dead—just as bad as I do—is on its way, and you’re going to be just as powerless to stop it'.”

Buffy shook her head, trying to empty her thoughts, so she could process the new information. She already had so much thrust upon her, that she hadn’t even had time to come to terms with being a vampire, and now she had a reminder that the First wants her dead and gone.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me!” she groaned, collapsing back onto her pillow.
The part of her that was still a Slayer kicked into high gear, putting all of the bad things that happened in the last couple days behind her, so she would be able to deal with the important task at hand. “Okay, then. What do you think could be coming?”

“I don't rightly know,” Spike answered. “I'm thinking possibly the Council.”

Buffy shook her head. “It can't be. I would think it would be them too, but I saw Giles yesterday, before I went looking for you. He told us that the Council was blown up, most likely by the first. All that was left behind was a few books and papers. No one survived except the few Watchers that were taking care of the Potentials. And even they are being attacked by the Bringers. Very few of them are still alive.”

“Well, that changes everything then, doesn't it.” Spike said in disbelief.

“You're telling me,” she replied and shrugged. She'd always had the Council in the back of her head, wondering when they were going to do something to jeopardize her life. Now that they were gone, she didn't have to look over her shoulder any more. It was a big difference. “So, what are we going to do?” she asked.

“I don't really know, but we need a plan to break all of this new information to your Watcher. He needs to know, so we can set a plan of attack into motion. I won't let anything happen to you, I prom—”

“Don't,” Buffy whispered, cutting him off. “Don't say that word to me. That word is no longer in my vocabulary, understand? Let's just...come up with a plan so we can get through this.”

“Buffy...you have to—”

“Don't you dare tell me what I have to do,” she commanded, holding back the unshed tears in her eyes the best she could. “You have no say, Spike. First, we deal with The First and the new danger, then we can figure out what to do about what has happened between us. I just... need some time.”

Spike frowned, but nodded, not wanting to upset her any further.

“How do we break the news to the Scoobies? We need to tell them about what has happened to you, so you‘re able to get back into your house.”

“We lie.” Buffy said simply.

“What?” he said incredulously. “What do you mean, we lie?”

“We tell them that you found me already turned, you dusted him, End. Of. Story.“

Spike nodded before he looked at his feet at the end of the bed as thoughts floated around in his head. “Why are you trying to protect me?” He asked, refusing to look at Buffy.

Buffy cupped the side of his cheek, gently pulling his face toward hers so they made eye contact. “Because you're my Sire. I need you, and if they knew....they'd... I can't lose you. Not now. Not after everything that's happened. I need you now more than ever. They can't know, Spike. They just can't.”

Spike felt the full weight of the situation settle on his shoulders, knowing that they wouldn’t be here, in this particular situation, if it wasn't for him. He wanted to kill the First. He wanted to rip it's head off and bathe in it's blood. He didn't care who’s face it wore at the time, he just wanted it dead and gone. If only he could rewind the clock, take everything that he'd done to Buffy back, do things properly from the beginning, do what was right for the both of them. Things would be different now, Buffy would be human again, like she deserves.

If he were in a perfect world, he would have been able to ignore the First, to shut out that stupid song that made him obey it's every command. Then he would have saved Buffy, made sure everything was how she wanted it to be. Now she was stuck as a vampire, with no clear outcome of how her life would turn out from now on. She deserved what was right for her, and no matter how much Spike loved that he didn't have to fear for her life every time she went out to slay, because she was impervious to a lot more than she was when her heart was beating. He also loved the fact that she would live for a very, very long time; he no longer had to prepare himself for the day she left this world, leaving him and her mark on the world behind. She didn't want any of this, though. Spike wanted her to have everything she wanted, and now she never could. It killed him that he took that away from her.

All he had now was forever; forever to make a change, to make a new start with her. He would also make certain that no one would harm her, in her fight to keep the world safe.

He felt his feelings solidify, as said girl in question nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck, trying to get as close to him as possible. He inhaled her scent as he reveled in the fact that she hadn't killed him, when suddenly he smelled something familiar to him. The smell of blood, fear and death. She was drenched in it, and he found himself wondering how he hadn't noticed it before. Buffy had killed, committed the ultimate Slayer crime, and it shocked him that she was acting as if it had never happened.

Spike whimpered, the weight of his actions weighing him down even further. If he had never turned her, a person would still be alive, living their life as oblivious as a Sunnydale citizen would be of the dangers that lurked in the night, and Buffy would have never known what it felt like to take a human life.

“Spike?” Buffy asked, looking up at him with concern. “What's wrong?”

“I'm sorry, love.” he whispered, turning to his side, pulling Buffy with him so he was able to cuddle with her. “I'm so sorry.”

“Spike... It's okay. We will get through this. I know we will. We just have to--”

“No, Buffy, you don't understand. I did the worst possible thing to you. Something I swore I'd never do, and it all happened so fast.”

“I know, William. I forgive you,” she lied, for both of their benefits. She lied to him and to herself, hoping to subdue the hurt they were both feeling.

“It's all going to be alright.”

TBC