For a moment they just stared at each other. Then Buffy felt her eyes well with tears again and she couldn’t help but glance around once more. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to force herself to relax.
Nothing happened. Nothing happened. Nothing happened.
But something had happened, and she didn’t succeed to lie to herself. When she opened her eyes again, Spike’s eyes were fixed on her neck. Quickly she put a hand against the wound, realizing that blood was still oozing from it. Fumbling a little, she reached into the pocket of her jacket in search of something to press against the bleeding.
“I’m sorry,” Spike said again, glancing down with visible effort.
Buffy stilled. “I really don’t know what to say.”
She hadn’t found anything useful in any of her pockets and considered ripping her shirt; she really didn’t feel like being the open snack bar of the cemetrery. Spike took a step closer, running a hand through his hair.
”I can,” he said, “If you want me to... I mean, neither of us seems to have a first-aid kit in our pocket so...”
What did he mean? She got the answer a second later when he stepped closer, so close she could feel his breath in her face. He met her gaze briefly, then his mouth descended to her neck again.
“What’re you doing?!” Roughly, she pushed him away, and he stumbled a little, but at the same time a big grin spread over his lips. She ignored him and reached up to touch her wound, only to find that it had ceased to bleed.
“Closing the wound,” Spike answered, still grinning like an idiot.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“You pushed me away.”
Shutting her eyes tightly, she dragged both hands through her hair. When she looked up again a concerned frown was lining his forehead.
“I wouldn’t harm you,” he said, an almost desperate tone in his voice.
She looked away, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.
“I...” Carefully, he lay a hand on her shoulder. “Love, we should talk.”
They ended up on the back porch of the Slayer’s house. The short walk there had been made in a choking silence, but he had almost been able to see the wheels running in her head. Now her hammering heartbeat was echoing in his ears as he sat beside her.
It had been a pure instinct. He’d been ready to do whatever in his power to assure her he wouldn’t hurt her. The look on her face after he’d closed the wound had petrified him. He was surprised that she hadn’t fled headalong.
“Slayer.”
The sound of his voice made her flinch. Christ, what if he couldn’t convince her that he wouldn’t hurt her? Angelus’ smirking face flashed before him. He had to convince her.
Before he had time to say anything he heard her draw in a deep breath and then she turned towards him completely.
When her eyes met his he didn’t see the fear he’d expected. In its place was pure confusion. It made him swallow back whatever he had thought to say.
“What did he do to you?”
There was no hesitation in her voice as she asked. Instead a slight look of determination mixed itself with the confusion and she held his gaze.
When she had asked it was suddenly obvious that this would be her question. Of course, what else? Spike glanced away. After her seeing those memories it would have been more odd if she hadn’t said anything. God, wasn’t this hilarious?! Even if he decided not to tell her anything, it probably wouldn’t be long until she put two and two together. He shifted in his seat, then stood and took a couple of steps away.
Next moment he spun around again. “Alright, you want the grand story of my life?” he said, looking her straight in the eye, “Angelus was my Sire. Drusilla was the supposed love of my unlife. Angelus disliked me violently. I went away. The end.”
The Slayer blinked. “If Drusilla was the love of your life, why did you leave because he didn’t like you?”
“Because I wasn’t the love of her life.” Spikce chuckled bitterly.”She belonged to her precious daddy.”
“Daddy?” The girl grimaced. “That’s gross.”
“Her Sire. My Sire. Angelus.”
“Oh.” She blinked anew. “Why do I think you just skipped through a bunch of important stuff?”
Spike sighed deeply and sank down beside her again, burying his face in his hands.
Perhaps telling about his life would help her trust him. Perhaps it would help her to understand she wasn’t the only one who had suffered by Angelus’ hands. Perhaps it would convince her that he wouldn’t harm her.
“You want the long version, Slayer?” Spike asked, raising his head, “The one with all the pretty details?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation, not even a blink.
Digging into his pocket, he fished up a cigarette and put it between his lips. His hand trembled a little when he lit it. “Right. I was turned in 1880, but guess you knew that.” He breathed out the smoke and grinned a little at her confirming nod. “I would’ve bet the Watcher fed you the basics. Dru was the one who did the actual turning, but she’s too insane to take on a Childe.”
“So he...?” The Slayer trailed off, but still kept her eyes on him. There was something strangely comforting about it.
“Yeah,” Spike said, taking another drag, “Angelus took the Sire role upon himself. Not happily though and since I’m not exactly a follower...” He offered a crooked smile.
”When, will you get this through your thick skull Willie?!”
A deep chuckle rumbled through Spike’s chest and he received another kick in the ribs, making him clutch his stomach. It didn’t stop the laughter though and Angelus growled.
“You think this is funny, Spike?!” The bigger vampire grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him up. “What is it that’s so damn funny?!”
“You!” Spike managed to gasp forth, not even attempting to stop. “Worrying about sodding humans!”
A roar, then he flew across the room, hitting a table. Next moment his Sire was upon him, straddling his chest and holding him down. Spike felt the blood trickle down his cheek.
“Mostly it ended with torture, and many times...” Spike ended the sentence with a shake of his head.
“How...” It was a meagre whisper and Spike turned to see her biting her bottom lip with a strange look in her eyes.
“How what, love?”
“How can you talk about it like that?” she asked, “Some torture...”
“You have to remember that I’m a vampire, love. Pain is a natural way for Sires to keep their Childes in line, even if mine was unusually... Violence and blood, it’s all a part of the vamp package.”
“Are you saying you... got off on him hurting you?”
Spike tapped his fingers against his thigh, raising his cigarette to his lips only to find it had turned into a column of ash. Without a second glance he threw it to the ground.
“You remember when Angelus threw holy water on us... me?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Yes,” she whispered and he could almost see the memory flashing through her mind.
“We,” He shook his head. “I. I didn’t like that, did I?”
“No.”
“Anyway, the torture wasn’t so bad if you compare it to his and Dru’s...” He wet his lips and forced a smirk. “At times I really did believe she loved me, even though I knew I was only second best. She would do anything for Angelus and I mean anything,” he let out a bitter laugh, “We had our good times, even the three of us, but in the end... it was all about him. Dru may have loved me sometimes... in her own crazy way... but to her – he was the one.”
She was dressed in red tonight, lying on the table with her hair spread like a fan around her head. Spike smirked, placing a hand on her stomach. A small smile spread on her lips and her fingers curled around his.
“Daddy promised me a hunt tonight, my Spike,” she said.
Abruptly Spike pulled his hand back, but she didn’t even seem to notice. Her eyes was sparkling as she turned her head towards him. “He promised me this sweetest little girl I saw last night,” she said dreamly.
“Why do you always, bloody always have to go on about him!”
“I do not.” She pouted and made a low, cooing sound. “My Spike doesn’t like being the second.”
“Bleedin’ right I don’t! What the hell do you...”
He didn’t complete the sentence. Pointless. This was all pointless.
If he closed his eyes and thought of Drusilla nowadays, he always associated her with Angelus. The smell of his Sire had always lingered on her.
“So she really did do that?” the Slayer asked in a quiet voice, “Go from... his bed to yours.”
“I can’t count the times. In the beginning I was patient, I thought if I was just good enough she’d stop going to Angelus. But, well, let’s just say that never happened.”
“Did this just go on for years? With him torturing you and your girlfriend cheating on you?” She sounded sickened.
“Pretty much,” he murmured, before clearing his throat, “She was my saviour, I couldn’t stop hoping she’d leave him eventually.” Crazy; how foolish he had been. “Anyway, I did leave several times – once I was gone a couple of years – but I always came back.”
And Drusilla welcomed him with open arms and even if Angelus didn’t pat him on the back and greeted him with a huge smile, he never forced him away. It had been that feeling of belonging that had made him go back, Spike had realized afterwards. That desperate longing for not being alone. The Slayer didn’t need to know that though.
“So...” the girl said, “What made you decide to leave for good?”
“I and Angelus got into a massive fight.”
The bigger vampire picked him up and threw him into the wall. Gasping, Spike fell to the ground. The sound of giggling echoed around the place.
“Not so tough now, are you?” Angelus grabbed him by the lapels of his duster and lifted him up. “Pretty coat you’ve got here, Willie. Tell me, did you ask the Slayer to give it to you?”
“It went on for hours, ending with him draining me.”
Spike closed his eyes again. Drusilla’s laughter still rang in his ears when he thought back to that day.
“I’m not sure what happened,” he said, “Before that I had promised myself that this was it.”
He still remembered when he’d killed that Slayer in China. The way the vampiress’ eyes had glittered as she saw what he’d done. She’d been happy with him. If just for a couple of hours. Maybe taking out a second would finally give him her love. Even as Spike thought the thought, he almost laughed. Like that would ever happen. Dru belonged to her precious daddy, he knew that. But it simply wasn’t in him to give up easily. Nor was it in him to be alone. He supposed that was the real reason for why he’d stayed with them for so long.
Last try.
There was a Slayer in this town.
“The last try. And it was.”
He’d thought he’d done all right. So why was he lying on the ground with pain burning in his body? Some part of him had honestly thought she’d take him back. Deep inside though, he was a realist and he knew that he shouldn’t be surprised at how it had worked out.
Groaning, he sat up, flinching at the pain every move caused. His memory was a little fuzzy, but he could still see her face clear in front of him; tittering as Angelus’ voice washed over him. “Did you think bagging another Slayer would make you one of us?” A leer. “William, William, you’ll never learn.”
Oh yes, he would. He had.
Spike forced himself to stand, despite his shaking and protesting legs. Half walking, half stumbling, he crossed the room and picked up his duster from the floor. A symbol of power. Of freedom.
“I walked out of the house and never returned,” Spike said.
He didn’t look up at her, just listened to her steady heartbeat and soft breathing. For long seconds heavy silence filled the air.
“That’s it, Slayer,” he said at last, shifting a little, “The whole pretty tale in a shortened version.”
“That’s...”
She just stared at him for a moment, then she suddenly reached out and placed a hand on his knee. “Thank you. For telling me.”
“You’re welcome.”
TBC