Buffy woke to the dull aching of sore muscles and limbs, her body protesting at having fallen asleep in an awkward position all night. With a groan, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tried to stretch out her arms and legs, but found her movements hindered.
Spike was spooned against her back, one arm protectively splayed across her stomach, his fingertips just touching the scars on her hip.
Scars that no longer ached or burned.
"Weird."
He must have heard her mutter or felt her stirring because he too was starting to rouse and by the way his brows furrowed together it was clear that he wasn't happy about being awake in the early hours of the morning. He let out a low growl and pulled her close, humming an almost purr into her ear as he nuzzled into her neck.
Tingles shot through her body that sent a flood of goosebumps across her skin in their wake as flashes of the events that had transpired the evening before assaulted her mind.
With a tentative and shaky hand Buffy reached for her neck, eyes wide and in shock as her fingers met with tender skin, letting out a wince of pain in response. She glanced at her hand after pulling it back and saw the dried smudges of blood on her fingers, knowing that Spike had made his mark on her flesh. Rolling in his embrace she saw bite marks on his neck and licked her lips involuntarily, not tasting anything copper in her mouth, but knowing from the bruising around his wound that it was her teeth that had done the biting.
Bewilderment struck Buffy as she slowly sat up further and looked around the torn and tattered room.
The sheets they had slept on were left mostly in shreds, ripped and torn and half hanging off of the bed, falling to the floor. The candles that had once been carefully placed on ledges and sills were left thrown about the floor and had obviously dripped onto the walls after being knocked over at some point during the night as candle-wax spilled everywhere.
Buffy didn't remember doing any of that.
As she sat up in the bed further, almost fully out of Spike's embrace, she noticed that her chest and arms were covered in dried blood and that a matching set of scratch marks marred not only her skin, but Spike's as well.
Buffy narrowed her eyes to focus on the end of the bed. She wasn't too sure, but looking at the posts that held the bed together she was quite positive that there were two hand prints in blood around them. The bloodied prints looked too small to be Spikes and after taking a second look at her own fingers she realised that those gripped marks had been made by her. Her bloodied hands had held onto those posts some point during the night.
What happened last night?
Flashes of skin and yellow eyes, Spike's eyes, came to the surface and were gone just as quickly as they had come. Spike was sitting up now, having heard her heart racing and felt the distress rolling off of her in waves as it flooded to him through their bond.
"You alright, luv?"
Buffy was staring at her dried bloodied hands as she shook her head 'no' before giving him another once over. His chest was a scratched up mess, neck bruised and bloodied form where she had clearly bitten him. Spike looked like he had just survived a vicious fight. Barely.
"Buffy-" He reached out a tentative hand and took her shaky hands within his own calm cool ones.
"What happened last night?" Watering and confused green eyes met his clear blue gaze. "What did I do to you?"
"Last nigh' was-"
"I d-don't remember." Buffy's voice shook as she spoke, her eyes wide as she snatched her hands from Spike's and made a move to wrap the remnants of a bed sheet around her naked from.
She hadn't meant to hurt him with her words and something deep inside her let out a small pang of guilt forcing her to make eye contact with him to ease his pain. Spike glanced away quickly trying to not let her words affect him, but it was no use. They were a mated pair now and nothing could stop the knowing of the other when their mate was in pain or distress.
"Amazing." Spike whispered, smiling towards her softly and feeling that a small part of her was quite insecure. "You were amazing."
Buffy blushed at his words and looked away, pulling the sheet around her shoulders as she stood and walked towards the now burnt-out fireplace.
"I-I don't remember-" she paused, closing her eyes as images rushed to the surface. "I mean, I remember s-some things, but I don't-" Buffy clenched her fists together in frustration. "I don't understand what's happening to me. I remember doing I-It."
"I would have hoped I wasn' that forgettable, luv." Spike's remark made her blush as she stumbled over her words.
"W-what I don't remember is doing all of this." Her eyes scanned the destroyed room from the bloodied bed posts and overthrown candles all the way down to the torn sheets that Spike had pulled up to cover his waist with. "I don't remember doing any of that to you. I d-don't remember hurting you so badly."
Tears had formed in her eyes and Spike could feel the fear and guilt coming through their connection and frowned at why she was feeling that way.
"You didn' hurt me, luv. If anything I enjoyed it."
"But you're black and blue with bruises and-" Buffy pointed to the marks covering his skin and then glanced down at her bloodied hands in slight fear of her own strengths.
"Vampire here, pet."
Don't remind me.
Buffy closed her eyes against the harsh reminder to her current situation and the affects on her life that it would forever make. She brushed the stray hairs from her face and began pacing the room, Spike watching her intently as she moved.
"Why can't I remember?"
Spike didn't say a word as she walked back and forth muttering under her breath, her brows constantly creasing together as she tried to piece together her fractured memories from the night before. She wasn't in shock or having a panic attack that much Spike knew for certain. What he was feeling through their connection, however, felt more like a dazed confusion.
"I've never been with anyone so-" Spike's eyes shone as he gazed at her, speaking to break the silence and keep her focused on something. He took a deep and unnecessary breath as he reminisced on the evening. "Primal."
Primal...
"Primal?"
Buffy stopped dead in her tracks, repeating his words and stared widely at Spike, not knowing how much fear that word instilled in her. There was no possible way that he could have known how much power that word held and how using it to describe the evening before scared her so much. Flashes of parchments read from her childhood came to the forefront of her mind that had Buffy glancing around the room for her garments.
"It was primal, animalistic in a way. Can't say I've ever had anyone challenge me like tha' before, but in the end I think we both did a bit of yielding." Spike raised one eyebrow suggestively.
"No..."
"Pretty sure my memory is working better than yours at the moment, pet." He smirked and seemed to slink back onto his elbows on the bed, watching in amusement as Buffy rushed about the room lifting up her torn clothing from the floor and grimacing when she saw that it was unwearable.
"Dammit!" Throwing her sleeping garment to the floor, Buffy ignored Spike as he spoke and continued her search for something to wear that wasn't a blood stained torn sheet. Through their bond she could feel Spike's amusement at watching her as well as his contentment. He was happy.
"Don't know your own strength yet, luv. There were a few moments last night that had me at a loss and when you looked at me with those eyes." Spike let out a groan at the memory. "Well-"
"Eyes? W-what eyes?" Buffy paused at the wooden drawers she had just pulled open, thankful that she had found Spike's collection of shirts.
"Golden sparkling eyes." Spike smiled and met her gaze, half wishing for that sparkle to shine back at him like it had the night before. Upon seeing the look that fell across Buffy's face though had Spike sitting upright, concern rushing forward in a slight panic. He didn't like that look one bit.
"G-gold flecks? Like the flickering of sunlight?" Buffy whispered her question in fear, already knowing the answer he was going to give. She was sure her face was a mask of white, all the blood having rushed to her gut at what his spoken words meant.
"That's one way to describe it, yeah."
No!
Grabbing at whichever shirt she could reach first, Buffy pulled the garment over her head, letting it fall to her thighs before running from the room.
"Buffy!"
She didn't spare a glance behind her as she ran through the halls and down a flight of stairs, trying her best to remember the way she had been taken to the library where she had first met Giles. Where her father's parchments currently were.
Spike jumped up from the bed as soon as her bare legs had rushed from the room. He found his pants on the floor and quickly pulled them on, not bothering with his boots or a shirt before he too swiftly ran from the room after her.
He followed the sound of her footfalls on the stone floor and listened as she ran down a flight of stairs before rounding a corner and thrusting open the doors to the library.
"Where is it?"
Spike heard Buffy's frantic whispered plea as the shuffling of parchments followed suit.
"Dear God! What on earth happened to you my dear? Are you hurt?"
"Where is it?"
Spike came into the room to see Giles standing from his chair with shock written all over his face as Tara slowly came out of her sleeping state, slowly pulling herself up from leaning on the desk. He heard the gasp that escaped her lips and the horrified look she sent his way when he stepped further into the room.
"Buffy are you quite alright, dear?" Giles reached to touch her shoulder and she shied away from him, not wanting to be touched.
"W-what did you do to her?" Tara was staring at the dried blood that covered Buffy's arms and legs, the shirt she wore doing little to cover the results of their mating.
"I didn't hurt the girl, luv-"
"She looks bloody well beaten by the looks of it!" Giles snapped, cutting off Spike and Tara before either could continue. Buffy's frantic search continued as she sifted through the parchments at a rushed pace, glancing at each page for mere seconds before discarding them. Her heart was racing and it had Spike on edge.
"I know it's here I've seen it-"
"What are you looking for, dear?"
"Before...." Buffy trailed off as her fingers grasped the page she had been searching for. It was a small parchment completely written in Latin and had a drawing attached to it. A drawing of a woman with scars on her face, lying down with blood spilling from a deep wound to her stomach.
"What is it?" Spike stepped forward and was frozen at the defeated and fearful voice that responded to his question.
"This is what you have just condemned me to." The page slipped from Buffy's fingers and fell to the desk as tears filled her eyes. Her hands began to shake leaving Spike frozen in place at the feelings he was getting through their bond.
Death.
Buffy believed that he had just condemned her to death.
"C-come on let's give you a bath." Tara stuttered, tentatively stepping forward to slide her hand around Buffy's elbow gently and lead her from the room. Giles pulled the glasses from his face with one hand as the other picked up the fallen parchment. Spike made a move to reach out to Buffy as she and Tara passed him, but was silenced with a his.
"Don't touch me!"
"Buffy-"
"Perhaps it's best if you leave the girl alone for the moment."
Giles was firm with his words and Spike knew deep down that he should listen. Their bond was still new, fractured and week. It would strengthen in time and with each day, but he couldn't help feeling the pang of pain she felt, wanting nothing more than to be nearer to her to help ease her worries and fears.
"Fine." He ground out and watched Tara lead a sniffling Buffy from the room. When the doors shut behind them he turned to face Giles, who was staring at the parchment intently.
"Are you worried that by Spike c-claiming Buffy that it will effect the prophecy."
"I'm worried that by Spike claiming Buffy he will inevitably start the prophecy. I don't know how much good can come from this, but we don't have any other choice."
"Oh!'
"Oh indeed."
"Giles? What is it?"
Giles stared at the image of the wounded and bleeding woman and then at the rest of the parchments on his desk. Parchments and scrolls that had once been sorted into three respective piles that now lie strewn across his desk haphazardly and in no order.
"Go and clean yourself up and then we'll talk."
"I don-"
"I can't look at you while you're covered in the girl's blood!"
"Right." Spike nodded and backed away from his friend who appeared to be quite shaken and made a beeline for the door. As the doors closed behind him he heard Giles voice whisper a defeated sigh.
"What have we done?"
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Chapter End Notes:
I bet you're all full of questions now!!