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Author's Chapter Notes:
Life's been rather busy, but here's a new update anyway! :) Hope you'll enjoy, lovely readers.

Beta'd by All4Spike.
Chapter 18

It was Christmas Eve.

Rupert had called as expected, even pitted Joyce at him in hopes it would play on Spike’s heart strings. It did but he had been determined to refuse. After all, nothing could top sitting alone on the couch in the empty living room and staring at the distant ceiling. So far he had counted 578 black dots.

“Merry fucking…” He snorted and shifted his gaze away from the ceiling so he could take a sip from his half empty glass of whiskey. Flames in the fireplace crackled, wind wheezed outside, struggling to be let in through the cracks around the old windows.

It was almost funny.

People said good things happened at Christmas. Bloody wishes coming true and all, right? Yeah, not him. It was around Christmas that Drusilla had disappeared out of his life as well. Since then, he’d avoided the holidays like a vampire avoided holy water.

He could hardly remember what it had been like before. It felt like someone else’s life entirely. When he’d been a child, eager and excited for old Saint Nick to wheedle his way down their chimney and bring him toys. Always a good boy, William had been. Sitting and listening, minding his elders. Being good had got him a fat load of nothing, hadn’t it?

Spike drank again, squeezing his eyes shut at the burn sliding down his throat.

Someone knocked on the back door.

His eyes snapped open as he held his breath, every muscle in his body tensing. The only person that ever came around was Buffy and he was fairly certain she was at home. Without making a sound, Spike carefully put the glass on the table and pulled a dagger out of his boot. He’d never even go to sleep without his boots on. He never knew when he’d be forced to run or fight to survive another day.

Silently, he slowly rose to his feet and stealthily moved to the window next to the door, brushing aside the curtain enough to allow him a peek outside.

The shadows shifted and danced but revealed nothing.

The tingle of awareness tickled his spine and he knew then. Someone or something was out there but they weren’t looking to have a nice chat with him. The air around him thickened with malicious intent, that vague presence he’d long ago learned to interpret as danger.

Spike opened the door.

Light steps, a flowery dress shimmering around slim calves met his gaze right before the rest of her body emerged from the shadows as if she was shedding a light coat. His own fingers trembled so hard he almost lost the grip on his weapon.

And then that face. The face that haunted him every single night as he tried and failed to find rest.

“William,” she said, the big blue eyes staring at him from the face that hadn’t changed since the day he last saw her. Since the day she destroyed the last part of him that was good and innocent.

The girl stopped, halted by the barrier. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

“How did you find me?” he forced off his lips, refraining from checking the tattoo over his heart. He knew for a fact it was still there.

“That’s a no then.” Her eyes flickered to the dagger he was gripping and she had the nerve to look amused. “Surely you wouldn’t hurt your own sister?”

“You’re not my sister.” He tightened his fingers to assure himself he could. That dagger was like a deadly extension of his arm.

“Aren’t I?” Her dirty blonde hair tumbled to her waist. She didn’t look a day over thirteen. She was like a photograph come to life but the darkness in her eyes betrayed her true self. It showed just how dead she was inside. He wouldn’t be fooled ever again. “I remember teaching you how to swim. Do you remember that? You almost drowned once. I saved you then. I swam towards you and gave you my safety jacket. And you’d kill me now?”

Her eyes gleamed with hurt he knew was fake. She was an abomination. A monster. He’d repeat it like a mantra if he had to.

“You’d kill me if I gave you half a chance,” he said, cold air sweeping in through the open doorway.

“Don’t you know you’re a part of me? I could never kill you, Will. I could torture you, but I could never kill you.”

He let out a humourless laugh. “That’s sibling love right there.”

Eline’s eyes clouded with confusion and he had to grit his teeth against her familiarity. Not his sister. Just a monster.

“But it is, you know. You hurt the ones you love. Isn’t that what Mum used to say?”

Anger burst inside him. “Don’t you dare speak of her!”

She floated even closer, rested her palms on the invisible barrier as she looked up at him. “You’re angry with me.”

Was she serious? Did she have any idea just how much it hurt just to look at her? How he had to force himself not to drop the dagger? To stop himself from inviting her in? “Sod off. If you don’t, I’ll cut your head off.”

“Why don’t you show me what you got then?” Eline backed away and crooked one slim finger in challenge.

With a growl and no regard for the danger, he stepped over the threshold. If she tried anything, he knew how to fight dirty.

“You shouldn’t have come here. I’ve changed.”

“Let’s test that theory,” she said and before he could blink she was in front of him, clutching his wrist with strength even he would struggle to overpower. She yanked his hand up and rested the blade against her slender throat. Spike clamped his teeth together to repress the nausea bubbling in his stomach.

“You haven’t changed at all, William.”

Just do it. Do it and have it over with.

“You killed Dru,” he said, unable to still the rage brewing in his gut.

“Do it then.” She pressed the blade closer to her flesh, drawing blood. Insanity flared up in her eyes, the dilated pupils chasing off the blue. “Do it!”

Spike pressed deeper, swallowing back the bile and breathing harshly through his nose. “You killed her.”

“It was never about you,” she said. “She was a psychic Angelus sent me to get. You were never supposed to be there.”

He threw the dagger away with a roar, slicing a shallow cut across Eline’s throat as he did. Even seeing her lick the blood off her fingers, all he wanted to do was find a cloth and press it against her wound.

“Why are you here?” he screamed and closed his hands into fists. “How did you find me?”

“I’ll always know where to find you. You’re my twin. You’re a part of me.” The blood on her hand stained the pale skin of her chest when she pressed her palm above her heart. “Our DNA is almost identical and no concealing spell could hide you from me.”

“Lucky me,” he said bitterly. “So you decided to pay me a family visit then? Thought we’d have a good laugh and reminisce? Maybe have a cup of hot cocoa?”

She shot him a glare. “You hate me. I get it. No need to be sarcastic.” She stared over his shoulder, her eyes gleaming wistfully. “Invite me in?”

“No.” He might be rash but he sure as hell hadn’t lost all his marbles yet.

“He turned her, you know,” she said without any trace of emotion. As though she was merely talking about weather. She turned her back on him and surveyed the woods. “Dru.”

Spike froze. “What?”

“We kept her alive for about two years, chained in the basement. Angelus wasn’t sure if she’d lose her mojo if he turned her, but she got ill so he risked it. Looks like she’s still psychic after all. Psychic and batty.”

Cold sweat broke out on his skin. Two years. She’d been alive two years.

Spike moved to the fallen dagger. “You’ve got hell of a nerve coming here. I’ve killed vamps much older than you, sis.” He bent down and picked up the dagger. “But I never hated any of them nearly as much.”

With deadly accuracy he sent it hurling towards her just as she turned around to face him. It embedded in her chest, her face twisted in pain. He wanted to crash to his knees and cry, beg her to forgive him but instead he stood his ground and watched as she drew it out of her chest with a breathless whimper.

“This won’t kill me.”

“No, it won’t. But I bet it hurts a hell of a lot.”

“I told you. You always hurt the ones you love, William.” Her lips stretched into a cold smile then as she dropped the dagger. “I’ll see you soon.”

The night swallowed her and with a blink, Eline was gone.

*******

10 Years Before

William had found the best gift for her. Even if money was tight, he’d been saving every penny so he could buy Dru the necklace she’d admired every time they passed the jewelry shop on Oxford Street. It was made of tiny butterflies and she liked it because it reminded her of freedom.

The velvet case had been weighing down his pocket for a few days now. As he walked back to their flat his fingers itched to pull it out and finally show it to her. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face.

The sun set much sooner these days and he had a bit of a trouble fitting the key into the lock. Except he didn’t have to because the door was already ajar.

Although his gut heaved with awareness that something had to be wrong, he shook it off. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a loud click.

Inside, soft music wafted from the radio.

“You’re back,” Dru said as she appeared at his side.

William breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry it took me so long. Everyone’s gone stark raving mad shopping for last minutes presents.” He grinned. “Good for us though. I’ve nicked enough to buy food for a week.”

Dru kissed his cheek, excitement gleaming in her eyes. “We’ve got a guest. She says she knows you.”

William frowned, his heart beat speeding up. “What?”

“William?” came a voice from behind him and William almost tripped over his feet in the hurry to spin around.

It was her. God, it was really her, in flesh and blood and looking exactly the same as he remembered her. “Eline, I thought…” he whispered roughly, taking in her wide, almost surprised gaze. Without a second thought, he closed the distance between them with a few quick strides, his arms enfolding her smaller frame. She smelled the same. Like lilies and caramel she always loved to sneak behind their mother’s back. “I thought you were… you’re alive.”

Her hands clutched at his back, the chilliness of her flesh seeping into his own. He pulled back and rubbed at her bare arms, wondering why she’d wear something so thin in December. “You must be freezing. Come on, let me warm you up. Make you some tea.”

He’d never noticed the calculation simmering in those deep eyes, never questioned the unnatural pallor or the essence of danger clinging to her skin. How could he when his heart was soaring at the knowledge his sister was alive?

“She looks just like you,” Drusilla said dreamily before her brows drew together in a deep frown. “It’s like looking in a mirror… but it’s been broken, William.” Drusilla’s voice quivered with sudden fear. “The shards are dripping with blood.”

The sound of kettle crashing to the floor rang in his ears. All he saw was the bones of Eline’s face shifting to reveal a demon as she rushed at him and landed a debilitating blow to the side of his head.

Blackness spilled into his vision, like a bottle of ink tipping over.

The first thing he felt when he stirred awake was pain. Dull throbbing within his skull and the protest of his spine from having lain on the cold floor for what felt like hours. When William opened his eyes, the sun was blazing through the windows. Beneath his cheek, the blood on the floor had turned to dried specks of brown.

Sweat beaded on his brow as he coughed, his arms too weak to support himself as he knelt up, his stomach heaving in protest. It took him a few moments to realise the sound assaulting his ears was Christmas carols coming from the radio rather than actual people.

There was no one there but him.

TBC


Chapter End Notes:
A purely Spuffy chapter coming up next. And I think it's going to be rather fun! ;)



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