CHAPTER 1: “Crushed”
Run away
I'm living with a hole inside
A piece of me that I have yet to find
The edge of reason lies uneven
Turn me off, feel the blood so cold
Like a product that was bought in salt
Asking me for the impossible
~Lost it all, Avenged Sevenfold~
There were many things Buffy Summers could be doing right now.
Patrolling, for starters. They couldn’t be too careful with Glory around; after all she wasn’t just a skanky demon with a bad perm and a lopsided ass, but a skanky god with a bad perm and a lopsided ass. With leper hobbits as minions. And she wanted Dawn. Poor little Dawnie who had nothing to do with it, apart from being a former ball of green energy with raging hormones and a lot of potential power to open portals.
And then there was her mom, who had just recovered from brain surgery and now had to worry about some crazy chick trying to take her younger daughter away. Add that to the failure that was her love life and you have a not-so-happy Buffy.
So, yes, there were a lot of things she should be doing right now, but instead she was chained to a wall listening to a vampire ranting about his feelings. His feelings for her .
Yep, life couldn’t get crazier.
Oh, wait, it could. Drusilla was here too, also tied and providing occasional insane comments.
And Spike was still talking.
“You can't tell me that there isn't anything there between you and me. I know you feel something.”
He looked so hopeful and vulnerable —vulnerable? Spike vulnerable? What the hell? — that Buffy almost—almost, but not quite—felt guilty because of the way she was treating him. She had no choice but to be hurtful; after all, Spike had to get it into that thick head of his that there was no way, absolutely NO WAY in hell she was ever going to look at him as boyfriend material. Probably.
Anyway, she had to discourage his attentions because — hello, unsouled vampire— things could get pretty out of hand if he continued to believe he was ever going to have a chance with her.
“It's called revulsion. And whatever you think you're feeling, it’s not love. You can't love without a soul.”
Ha, take that and smoke it, vampire! No one could compete with Buffy-logic.
Drusilla choose just that moment to be uncharacteristically the voice of reason and refute the irrefutable Buffy-logic.
“Oh, we can, you know. We can love quite well. If not wisely.” At that, she smiled at her childe, pity shining in her eyes.
Spike didn’t even notice, seemingly deep in thought, a frown on his face. Buffy expected him to say something to try to make her change her mind and was taken aback by his unaccustomed silence.She took his silence as an invitation to continue lashing out at him.
“See? You have nothing to say to that. You know you’re a soulless disgusting thing and that you will never, and I mean NEVER, have even the smallest chance to—”
“Is that it then?”
Huh? What’s he talking about? Oops, he looks pissed. Great plan, Buffy, make the unstable and potentially dangerous vampire who has you at his mercy angry. Very smart move, really.
“What are you talking about?”
For a second, he just looked straight at her eyes, nostrils flaring, a muscle jumping in his cheek, the very image of barely concealed fury.
“I said, is that it then?” At her blank stare, he rolled his eyes, a movement reminiscent of Buffy herself, and elaborated. “The soul. Are you saying that’s the only thing that makes someone capable of love? Why do you think I stayed with Dru for over a century? It wasn’t because of her conversation skills, let me tell you”. He started pointing at Drusilla, still looking straight into Buffy’s hazel eyes. “That is the face of my salvation. Before Dru, I was nothing. A speck. But when she bit me, she delivered me from mediocrity. For over a century we cut a swath through the continents, shared a bed, drank from the same vein...” Spike started getting lost in the memories, now looking at Drusilla with obvious tenderness, obvious even to someone who lived in denial as much as Buffy.
“A hundred years, and she never stopped surprising me… Never stopped taking me to new depths. I was a lucky bloke, to touch such a black beauty. Lucky just to stand in her light… and you say that wasn’t love?”
Right now, Buffy was really confused. She’d always known Spike truly loved Drusilla. You had to be blind not to see the affection and tenderness, the way Drusilla was his entire world back when he first came to Sunnydale. But she couldn’t really accept that because…if Spike was capable of love, well, that thought raised too many questions. If Spike can love without a soul why didn’t Angelus without one? Or worst yet, why couldn’t souled Angel love me enough to stay? Her mouth, it seemed, was on autopilot, her mind clutching to the teachings of her watcher and the Council.
“Of course that wasn’t love. You can’t love, there’s nothing good or pure in you.” God! Broken record, much? She was sounding reiterative even to her own ears.
“So, is a soul what makes vampires beneath humans? Is that what makes me worse than every sodding soulful serial killer or rapist in the whole bloody world? The fact that I changed doesn’t matter?” Now he looked beyond pissed, ready to rip somebody’s head off. Probably hers.
And still, Buffy couldn’t help herself and snorted. “But you haven’t changed. The chip is the only thing that keeps you from going into a killing spree, and you only kill demons to get your spot of violence. That’s not changing, that’s just adapting and biding your time until the chip is out.”
Buffy paled. He had murder in his eye and although the chip would probably incapacitate him before he could make a movement against her, nothing was stopping him from untying Drusilla and letting her have his way with a helpless slayer.
Suddenly Spike’s entire demeanor changed.
“Well, then.” He took a small key out of his pocket and, before Buffy’s astonished face, unlocked the manacles that kept her wrists bound to the wall. She was just too shocked to react and stake him as soon as she was free, and didn’t even try when he turned his back on her, untying Drusilla.
As soon as the loony vampiress was no longer tied to the pole in the middle of the room, she gave Spike a look full of longing and sadness as she disappeared behind a crack in the wall.
Buffy stood frozen, too shocked to talk, let alone move. Spike was leaning against the dirt wall, his head hung and desolation written all over his face.
“Spike—“
“No, just…Buffy, just leave.”
And with that, Buffy was free from whatever strange spell that had kept her unmoving, and did the only thing he could think of: she punched him in the nose and ran. She ran towards Revello Drive, and didn’t stop until she was in her room, safe from vampires with a split personality disorder and the way they complicated things.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Three days later, Spike was pacing. Pacing and drinking himself to numbness, of course. He had been doing so since Buffy left his crypt after his disastrous declaration. He knew it was wrong to force her to listen, but what else could he have done? The irritating bint wouldn’t listen any other way. Yes, at the moment he had thought it was his only option, but now he was feeling confused and… guilty? It was really difficult to think when there were two beings inside his head pushing each other for domination.
His demon was furious, of course, enraged even, and demanded the punishment of the slayer who dared to think he was beneath her, that they were beneath her.
But Spike was not your average vampire, he was more than just a demon inside the shell of a man, like the Council of Wankers insisted on believing; he was a man too, or at least, he used to be one – and a real nancy-boy at that—but retained much of his personality after his turning. And the man in him, the part that was still ‘William the bloody awful poet’ wanted nothing more than to grovel at the slayer’s feet until she decided to have pity of him.
After too much pacing, too much drinking, and truly too much inner debate, he finally reached a decision, a final conclusion. Nothing was going to stop him now.
In a few days, maybe weeks, he was going to be what he had been, and the slayer was going to realize how wrong she was to think he was beneath her. He slipped his beloved duster on and stormed into the night.
He knew what needed to be done.
tbc...
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!