Chapter 8 Dear Buffy
Present Day
Spike sat at his desk in the small, dingy apartment that he shared with the band members and their new manager. It was one of the rare moments when everyone was out or asleep except him and he had the peace and quiet that he needed to get his thoughts together.
And at the moment, his thoughts were on the one girl who had changed his life. The girl that he had hurt. His heart ached for her and he fought a losing battle with the tears that were brimming his eyes.
He fumbled around the desk drawers until he found what he wanted – the unused black journal that she had bought for him as a good-bye present. Before he went and decided to be a complete ass. He opened it to the first page and wrote the date - September 2.
His hands paused when he reached the first line and he chewed at the edge of his pen.
Dear Buffy,
He had to get it out… his reasoning, his thoughts. He wanted to tell her everything, but he knew he never would. Settling for what he considered as the next best thing, he wrote her a letter in his journal. A letter that he knew he would never send.
Dear Buffy,
You hate me right now. I deserve it. I’ve been a right git and I deserve whatever hatred and despise you can send my way. You know… I lied when I said I didn’t love you. Truth is, love,… you’re my world. You’ve always been. It wasn’t about being your first – as you seem to think it was.
Thing about it is that I can’t tell you why I did what I did. You wouldn’t understand. Hell, I don’t think I even understand. But it was for the best. It was because you deserve the best. This might hurt right now, but in the end, you’ll be better. You’ll have better.
Maybe I should start at the beginning. But where is the beginning? When we first met? When I first realized that I loved you? Is it the night we made our love complete? I’ll start the day after.
Waking up in your arms was a bloody revelation. I wanted to ask you to marry me right then and there. I had so many dreams… you, me, two and a half children in a house with a white picket fence. But you’re only fifteen so I thought I would wait for another two or three years.
It all went to hell that night when the band went to meet the manager…
Flashback – Betrayal
Spike entered the crowded bar with Oz and Angel. The instant the stale, musky scent of smoke and alcohol reached his nose, he felt that something was off. All he wanted was to see his girlfriend and hold her. But, first things were first and right now, they were off to meet their new manager. In ‘Willy’s Bar’, the sleaziest, dirtiest bar in town.
“You can get anything at this place,” Angel grinned as they walked past the line of stools already filled with drunk men. He gawked at a waitress that crossed the restaurant in front of him wearing fishnets, garters, a piece of cloth she called a skirt, and a shirt that barely covered her essentials. “Holy shit”
“Reign it in, Peaches,” Spike slapped his back and looked around for a place to say. “Your cheerleader might not like you slobbering over yourself for some naked chit at a bar.” Angel closed his mouth as he was reminded of his girlfriend, Cordelia.
“Just because some of us are whipped, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t have eyes,” he retorted, but kept his wandering eyes off the waitresses.
“Over there,” Oz pointed out an empty booth and they made their way over. Halfway there, Spike spotted the crooked sign pointing out the men’s room.
“Order me a bloomin’ onion,” he told his friends, nodding in the direction of the sign, “I have to use the loo.” Angel and Oz nodded and sat down without him while he started towards the bathrooms.
The bathroom had a repugnant odor and was dirtier than anything Spike had ever seen in his life. The mirror was grimy to the point where the reflection was lost and the sinks looked more likely to spread bacteria than to wash it off. He felt like retching over the floor at the smell and sheer grossness of the place. He was about to unzip his pants to relieve himself when he suddenly felt himself jerked backwards by the arms.
His cry was muffled by a forceful hand and he was dragged out of the bathroom. The bar was too full of slimy people for anyone to take notice when a boy was being manhandled by two large men in uniform black, wearing sunglasses in a dimmed building. Spike felt himself being forced into a barstool and tried flailing his arms and legs to no avail.
“You’re not being kidnapped, boy,” one of the men snarled, “so shut the hell up and nobody need be hurt.”
Spike stopped moving and when the men were certain that he wouldn’t try to do anything bold and stupid, they loosened their hold and sat in barstools on both sides him. He looked around, confused.
“What the hell is this?” he snapped, feeling too brave for his own good. They remained silent, ignoring him, and watching the bar with hawk’s eyes. Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him that made every single hair on his body stand on end.
“My prince has finally arrived!” a dark, sultry voice floated in his direction, and he turned around to face a pale woman with dark hair and a coy smile. She was dressed in black and red lace and she seemed to tear him apart with her eyes.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked her, cocking his head. The morbidly beautiful woman was alluring and she excited him in a way he never knew. “Who are you?”
“Naughty,” she gave him a short slap to his shoulder, “trying to win the princess with sticks and stones when she wants lollipops and daffodils.” Spike decided she was insane and uncomfortably looked around for an escape route. The dark woman paid him no mind and continued with her charade, “But fear not, my dear William. The princess will have you, yet.”
Spike looked at her in surprise when he heard his name coming from her blood red lips. “What do you want with me?”
“None of that, Miss Edith wont have it,” she snapped and turned to the bartender. She smiled sweetly, “Fix your special drink for the pretty prince.” She pulled the stool closer to Spike’s and sat in it, purposefully brushing his knees with hers. At the contact, Spike felt the hair on the back of his neck rise in warning and he gulped. He tried looking for Angel and Oz but they weren’t in his line of sight.
“The prince wants to make it big, does he not?” she covered his hand with her cold one. “Playing triangles and tambourines, making pretty notes here and there. You want to be the star and I will be the one who takes you there. Mummy will take care of you and make you magnificent!”
Spike pulled his hand away and scratched his head, not sure what she was talking about. With a slow flip of her hair, she kept going, “I am Drusilla and I will be the one to manage your music group.” Oh… now that’s who she is! … Oh, balls. Spike wasn’t sure whether to cringe or make nice with the manager. When he heard that the manager’s name was Drusilla… he didn’t actually expect a vampire wannabe to show up by his side.
“Oh, um, hello,” he faltered. The bartender placed their drinks in front of them and Spike eyed his tall glass suspiciously. Drusilla raised her glass in a toast and he followed suit.
“To a bright, beautiful future dear William,” she drank and watched him carefully as he timidly swallow his own beverage. “That’s a good boy.”
After the first sip, he immediately felt dizzy. Bad… bad bad bad bad bad His brain sent him on overdrive and shouted at him to stop drinking and walk away… walk away and not look back.
“Ungh,” he groaned as the rush in his head blurred everything around him. He heard Drusilla in the distance, encouraging him to down another mouthful and he did without question. STOP. But he couldn’t stop. The more he drank, the more his body would refuse his mind and as each second passed, he felt increasingly detached to the world and any concrete surrounding.
He dimly felt himself being pulled up from the stool and led across the bar. His body followed the person leading him blindly and he wondered what was going on. Drowsy and disoriented, he slowly fell into the pitch blackness that was beckoning him and suddenly looking oh so pleasant.
…………
Something smelled funny. His nose twitched as it caught onto a scent that was strangely familiar. Slowly, his senses began to alert themselves and the first thing he noticed when his eyes popped open was that he was in a strange room. The only thing he could see without moving his body was the red ceiling, red walls, and cracked ceiling fan. Where… what? He attempted to turn his head and his aching neck shouted a protest. Then, he noticed that an arm was draped around his bare stomach. Smiling, he turned around, ignoring the pains in his neck, to look at the blonde sleeping next to him. To look at the… brunette who was… not sleeping next to him, he realized. Bloody hell…
Everything in his body screamed to get away from the despicable body and he leapt from the bed as quick as he can, falling onto the hard floor naked. The dark haired woman slowly sat up in the bed and smiled wickedly at him.
“Get away from me,” he shouted, crawling backwards when she moved towards him.
“That’s not what you told me last night,” she smirked, letting the sheet fall from her bare torso. Suddenly, Spike felt a sharp pain course through his brain and blurry images took over his mind. Images and memories that he didn’t want to see and didn’t want to remember… Drusilla, arching under him. Drusilla, screaming out his name. Drusilla, licking her way south from his navel, Drusilla… Drusilla… Drusilla.
“What the fuck did you do to me!?” he grabbed his head, trying to shake the images from his brain.
“Nothing that you didn’t want, my lovely prince,” she laughed. “You begged me and I gave you what you wanted. You told me to take you under my arm and lead you to the darkness and away from the horrid sunshine and I did. I made you mine.”
“What?! No!” he scrambled to his feet. “I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours. God… Buffy… Oh… What did you do… what did you make me… ” he felt like throwing up. “Fuck!”
“Don’t say her name,” Drusilla sharply commanded, flying across the room to stand in front of William. “Go to the table over there and look in the envelope.”
Spike gave her a look of pure disgust and loathing and stalked over to the table to pick up a large, brown envelope. Slowly, he pulled out what seemed to be photographs… His yell of fury was drowned in his throat from the shock of the images he had just pulled out. Hard, tangible images. Not the blurry and vague kinds that were in his mind, but hard, clear, detailed, incredibly gruesome pictures. Pictures that he wanted to burn. The first one he saw was of Drusilla on top of him, head thrown back in ecstatic pleasure. Quickly, he flipped it and he saw another one of Drusilla lying back on the bed with his tongue deep inside her heat. He threw the picture to the ground… and the one after it,… and the one after that. The faster he flipped and threw, the blurrier his eyes grew. Picture after picture of the erotic positions they were in flew past his head and landed on the floor until he reached the last one. This one made his insides flip and his veins run cold. He was taking Drusilla from the behind and in her hands was a white sheet of paper with words written in red lipstick… “Hi, Buffy.”
Letting out a mangled cry, he tore it in half… quarters… eighths… until he couldn’t tear it anymore.
“By all means, destroy them,” Drusilla looked on half-amused with a smug smile on her lips. “I have the negatives.”
“You think a cheap trick like this will get in between me and Buffy?” he snarled. “You insane bitch…”
“I don’t think so. I have a proposition for you that you’d be wise to accept.”
“Not bloody likely.”
“You must end things with the sunshine girl. Or I give her the pictures. And believe me when I say that those aren’t the only ones. My photographers can get very… close up… if you understand what I am saying.”
“Buffy loves me,” he stated, flatly. “I’ll tell her you had me drugged and this will all be over.”
“You’d think that,” she scoffed. “It plants doubt. She’ll need to recover and I really don’t think she will be able to, my dear.”
“She loves me.”
“What does she know about love?” Drusilla took a step towards him and he backed up. “What can a fifteen year old girl possibly know about love? Passion? Tell me, does she satisfy you?”
“Of course she does. She’s everything I want, everything I need.”
“That’s not what you said yesterday.”
“Sod what I said yesterday.”
“She’s young, my William,” Drusilla sadly shook her head. “She doesn’t know the way of the world and who are you to show it to her? Do you think you are what she wants?”
“I know I’m what she wants… I love her. She loves me.” he insisted. But her words worked. She had planted something in him… something dark and vile. Doubt.
“You’re what she wants… “ Drusilla gave him a cruel laugh. “Yet you’re so faithful to her and run to another woman after only one drink… not even an entire drink.”
“You put something in there! I knew there was something wrong with it!”
“Yet you drank from it anyways?”
“Shut up. Just stop. I’m leaving now. I’m explaining everything to her. You can go to hell.”
“You leave now and your band can say goodbye to a future. You’re a dark cloud, your girlfriend is the sun. She has a future that doesn’t involve you. One month away and she’ll forget you and wish she never knew you.”
The words slapped Spike in the face. Drusilla caught the look and went on.
“Imagine someone sending you those pictures. Imagine Buffy as me and you as some other man. She comes home and tells you she was drugged… she really didn’t mean it. One drink with one man and this happens. How do you feel?”
“I’d kill – “
“And it will hit her ten times worse. Because she is young. She’s innocent… she has her life. She hasn’t seen anything yet… has never been betrayed and cheated on. Are you going to break her? Are you going to let down your friends, who have wanted this big break since they picked up an instrument? Is that what you really want, William?”
He fell back on the bed and put his hands in his head. Too tired to fight, he gave in to the tempting words. Let her be happy. Let her live. Go be a rock star. Famous.
“She doesn’t love you. She thinks she does. But she doesn’t. She’s too bright for you who belong in the dark… with me. Tell me, William. What do you want?”
“For her… to be happy,” he whispered. Drusilla knelt in front of him and lifted his chin.
“Then let her go.”
He nodded, numbly. He didn’t want to let her go, but he was too sore to try,… to worn out to hold out.
“Tell me what to do,” he looked into the dark beauty’s eyes. She slowly smiled and crushed her lips to his. He didn’t kiss her back but he didn’t pull back. He just stayed still and let things happen to him. He lacked the strength to care.
“Do everything I tell you to do, and you’ll be perfect,” she cooed in his ear. “Don’t worry… Mummy will take care of you.”
…………
It was the evening of the same day and Spike found himself walking by the beach, watching the silent tide wash away the shore. His heart was heavy and his eyes were dry. He had cried so much that there was nothing left. In a few minutes, he would have to see Buffy. Tell her what Drusilla had told him to tell her. Do what Drusilla had told him to do. Let her go.
Memories flooded into his brain… the happy ones. The ones where Buffy was giggling, clinging onto his arm as if it were her lifeline. Memories of her gazing up at him with a ridiculously wide smile upon her face – happier than life itself. Memories when he was in her arms and they had clung to each other like it would be the last time. Suddenly, less than pleasant memories also invaded his brain. Memories of her crying after a fight. Her telling him to never talk to her again, never touch her again. Memories of the cutting words they had said to each other in anger throughout the past year. Memories of the pain that hurt more than any type of physical pain possible. Drusilla was right. They had fought more than they had loved, snapped at each other more than they had kissed, cut more than they had caressed and healed.
This was the right thing to do. He got into his Desoto and slowly drove to Revello Drive. Slowly drove to say goodbye to the only good thing that had ever been brought to him.
…………
Present Day
“What is this!” A voice snapped him out of his reverie and Spike jumped. His seemingly schizophrenic ‘girlfriend’ materialized behind him and snatched up the book from his hands. In a high, mocking voice, she read aloud “Dear Buffy… oh my, Dear Buffy! Really, William, you’re starting to go soft.”
“What do you want, Dru,” he glowered at her, “I did everything you told me to do. Publicly announced us and all that rot. What else do you want?”
“Oh, nothing else at the moment,” she clapped her hands, gleefully, “You have been such a good boy, William. My prince will be rewarded.” She took a small bag of white powder from her pocket and held it out to Spike.
“Keep your damn drugs,” he pushed her hand away and walked passed her to the door. Grabbing his leather duster, he slammed the door behind him and walked down the hall, into the elevator, and out of the apartment building.
He breathed deeply at the cool, crisp night air and looked up into the sky. The crescent moon cast a silvery gleam on the tops of the cars and the stars blinked at him from above. The orange glow of a streetlamp flickered then went dead, leaving him alone with the moon. It was shining sadly down at him, broken and crying.
He walked down the deserted sidewalk, hands stuffed in the pockets of his duster, and watched the white wisps leave his mouth as he breathed out in the uncharacteristic cool of the Los Angeles night. The cars driving by became a steady rhythm as he continued to walk aimlessly.
He didn’t notice when it started to rain.
…………
A few hours away in a town called Sunnydale, a girl opened her back door and stepped out into her backyard. The yelling voices of her parents were drowned out as she closed the door on them and hugged herself with both arms. It was raining, but she didn’t care. She lifted her head and let the water drip down her face, blending in with and washing away her tears.
…………
Both hearts were beaten so badly that they now felt numb and were impervious to any of the harsh realities and tribulations that the world had yet to bring them.
END PART ONE
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This ends part 1. It was really hard to write.
Don't worry, this is rock bottom. Only gets better from here! There's going to be 2 more parts to this story. Part 2 is going to be set a few years later, during reconstruction. Happy stuff. Part 3 is a surprise. :)
thanks for reviewing guys!!
Don't worry, this is rock bottom. Only gets better from here! There's going to be 2 more parts to this story. Part 2 is going to be set a few years later, during reconstruction. Happy stuff. Part 3 is a surprise. :)
thanks for reviewing guys!!