"Daughter of Darkness"
Author: Ashlee
Contact: ashlee_999@hotmail.com
Notes: This story will be very dark and very NC17
Longing to Hold You
"Buffy, where are you going?"
Turning toward Cordelia, Buffy stopped for a moment, wondering if she should tell her the truth.
"I need to get out of here for a little while, Cordy. Or… a long while, actually."
"Nuh uh," the older woman replied, shaking her head. "Your father was very specific about the not leaving of you."
"Yeah? Well, Spike was pretty specific when he told me a lot of things, too. Doesn't mean I'm going to listen to him right now."
"Where are you going?" Cordy asked, knowing that she couldn't stop the powerful girl from leaving.
"Home," she murmured, walking out the door before Cordelia had a chance to reply.
Feeling the air hit her face, Buffy turned her eyes up to the moonlit sky, letting the tears spill down her cheeks again. She was surprised she'd been able to hold in her emotions in the amount of time she'd talked to Cordelia.
Running a hand along her neck, she shuddered at the feel of the healing wounds. For the first time, she felt revolted. Damaged.
Without Spike around, they seemed to represent everything she was against instead of everything she loved. Closing her eyes, Buffy tried to stretch out her senses Unable to get an accurate feeling from him, she could sense that he was okay. That was enough for now.
Spike paced through the hotel room, feeling his anxiety growing as the sun began to set. He'd been cooped up in an eighteen by eighteen cell – known as the Sun Spot Motel for hours and he felt as if he was going insane.
He felt horrible about the way he'd left things with Buffy, knowing that she deserved better treatment from him. Sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment, he nervously shook his leg, biting his lip as he stared at his cell phone.
She hadn't called.
He knew that she didn't have any reason to – he was the one who had been in the wrong – but his anxiety was growing from not being able to feel her. To touch her. To hear her voice.
Grabbing the phone, Spike quickly dialed the number, standing up to pace when he heard the woman's voice on the other line.
"Cordelia, can I talk to Buffy?"
"She's not here, Spike."
Turning toward the window, he tried to calm himself with the knowledge that it was daylight outside. Buffy could take care of herself. "Do you know when she'll be back?"
"She left early this morning," Cordy said, obviously nervous about telling him anything.
"How… early?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
"Before sunrise."
"Bloody buggerin' hell!"
"Spike, calm down-"
"She knows-"
"If you say she knows better, I will personally come find you and kick your ass. Buffy is a smart girl, she can handle things, and she wanted to go home. It's not like I can keep her here. Maybe you should've thought about that before you went running off to God knows where."
"Cordelia, it's not my-"
"I know, Spike," she said, her irritation growing.
Spike stopped, staring unseeingly at the wall in front of him. "You know?"
"That Angel's past is about to jump up and bite him in the ass? Yeah. I'm not stupid."
"That you're not," he agreed with an amused smile.
"I think you should tell Buffy," she said, knowing that her suggestion wouldn't go over well. "She's a big girl, she can handle it."
"I had nothing to do with it, Cordy," he said tiredly. "This is Angel's-"
"Spike."
The tone of her voice sent a slight shiver of fear along his spine. Briefly taking the phone away from his ear to look at it, Spike shook his head, wondering how a woman could scare a vampire.
"Look… if this isn't finished soon… I'll think about," he said, taking a deep breath. "I'll tell her what I can."
"Good. Because, Spike? She deserves to be with someone who's honest with her."
"I've never lied to her, Cordelia," he replied with an edge to his voice.
"Close enough," she said, hanging up the phone.
Spike attempted to calm himself as he stared at the phone. Yelling at Buffy definitely wouldn't put him back in her good graces, especially considering she had the right to leave the hotel anytime she wanted. Slowly dialing the phone, he cleared his throat, waiting for her to answer.
"Hello?"
"Hey, baby," he whispered, sitting down on the edge of the bed, feeling relieved by simply hearing her voice. Waiting for her response, Spike sighed when he didn't hear a reply. "So, it's the silent treatment, then, is it?"
"No," Buffy said, slowly walking over to the dresser, feeling her anger fade slightly as she listened to the comforting sound his voice. "I guess I'm just tired."
"Did you get any sleep?"
"Without you here?" Buffy replied, not bothering to answer him, knowing that she'd gotten her point across.
"You need to rest, pet," he said.
Buffy didn't say anything, looking up to see her reflection staring back at her.
"I shouldn't've left the way I did," he said quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he waited for her undoubtedly angry reply. Frowning when there was none, Spike sat up a little straighter. "Love?"
"I'm here," she said quietly, staring at her gaunt reflection in the mirror, shocked at the person she saw.
"You alright?"
"I'm fine," she said weakly, running a hand along the hollow of her cheek.
"You don't sound fine," he said, sitting up a little straighter. "What is it? Is something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," Buffy said with a sigh, turning off the lamp on the dresser and walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. "I already told you, I'm just tired."
"Baby, please stay at the hotel," he said, running a hand through his hair.
"What? Like Cordelia is going to protect me if the next Big Bad comes calling while you and Dad are off playing Mighty Mouse?"
"What if you need to protect her?" he replied, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
Buffy stayed quiet, knowing there was some truth to that statement. "I'll think about it," she said softly after a long moment of silence.
"I love you," he whispered, putting every ounce of emotion into his voice. He felt as if his heart was splintering when she didn't respond immediately.
"I know you do," she said softly, taking a deep breath. "Where are you, Spike?"
Staying quiet for a moment, Spike felt his exhaustion turn into frustration. Hating Angel for dragging him into this situation, hating Angelus for causing it in the first place, hating himself for letting it happen.
"Are you cheating on me?" she whispered in a strained voice.
"What? No! No, baby, I love you. I would never do that."
Buffy relaxed slightly, knowing that he was telling her the truth - knowing that she shouldn't have asked him in the first place. She trusted him. She trusted him with her life. And apparently so did her father.
"Please tell me where you are," she said, hoping to at least get that much information from him.
"Sunnydale," he finally replied in a tired voice. "We're in Sunnydale. In that fleabag motel off the freeway."
Buffy stayed quiet, not wanting to start another fight with him.
"I want you here with me," Spike said after a minute. "I do. You believe that, don't you?"
Feeling tears burn her eyes, Buffy sniffled slightly as she nodded, realizing he couldn't see her. "I believe you," she said in a choked voice.
"Hasn't even been a day and I feel like I'm going out of my mind without you," he said, standing up and walking around the empty room. "How did I last when you left for a year?"
"You weren't in love with me," she said solemnly, remembering one of the darkest periods of her life as she flashed back to her memories of living alone in Las Vegas.
"Says you," he replied, his voice taking on a playful quality that made her smile.
"How long will you be gone?" Buffy asked, tugging at a loose string on the quilt.
"I hope not too long," he said, taking a deep breath.
"What's 'not too long'?" she asked, keeping her tone soft. "A week? Two? Three?"
Spike seemed to consider his answer for a long moment. "This might take longer than a few weeks," he said, leaning against the wall. "But if I'm gone for two weeks, I'll come see you… alright?"
Buffy hastily wiped her eyes as her emotions seemed to set her on edge. "I miss you," she whispered. "I want you home."
Spike closed his eyes, concentrating for a moment before feeling her through the claim. The sadness that he felt from her was nearly overwhelming him. Knowing that he was the cause of it, he tried to comfort her, letting her know how much he loved her. He knew he wasn't having much success when he heard her try to muffle a sob. The sound nearly had him running back to L.A. to get to her. "Sod it," he muttered, clenching his teeth. "I don't care what your da' says- if we don't finish this soon, I'll tell you everything."
Buffy sat in shock for a moment, unsure if she'd heard him right. "You mean that?" she asked in disbelief.
"I don't want you to ever think you don't have a reason to trust me, love."
Buffy stayed quiet for a long moment. "Thank you."
Feverish Feelings
Buffy rolled over in her bed, trying to keep from shivering as she snuggled deeper into the thick down comforter. In spite of the warmth that seeped through the room, she couldn't stop her teeth from chattering, trying to get her trembling body under control.
Opening her eyes after a moment, she tried to focus on something in the room, hating that her vision was blurry and distorted. "What's wrong with me?" she whispered, breathing deeply.
It had been a full day and a half since she'd last talked to Spike. He hadn't called since, but knowing that he was carefully closing off his emotions to her so that she wouldn't know much about what he and her father were doing, Buffy didn't expect him to realize how sick she was.
The tears started again without warning. She'd woken up that morning feeling weakened and disoriented. Assuming that she'd somehow gotten the flu, she had decided to stay in bed. Then the tears had started.
Great, sobbing, heart-wrenching tears. She had no idea where they came from or why her body felt the need to release so much anguish, but she found that she couldn't stop the tears, even when she tried.
At times, an almost delusional feeling would come over her, sending her into mild panics that had her clawing at the bed sheets.
She went from rage to depression in a matter of moments.
Buffy knew she was feverish – she wasn't sure of her exact temperature, but she told herself not to worry about it. She was immortal, after all – how much harm could a little thing like the flu do to her?
Getting a rare moment of clarity where she felt nothing – no heat, no cold, no anger, no sadness – Buffy slowly sat up in bed. Her first thought was to call Spike, but she quickly dismissed the idea. He would call her soon enough and there was no need to worry him about her being sick.
If she could only get to the hotel, she knew she would feel better. Cordelia was there, as well as Wesley and Fred – she wouldn't be alone.
Slowly pushing herself out of bed, she pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to control the wave of nausea that coursed through her at the sudden movement. Groaning at the weakening feelings that were coursing through her, she took a deep breath, hoping that she would be able to make it to the hotel.
Carefully dressing in her favorite pair of jeans, a tank top, and a warm sweater over it – hoping to take care of her hot and cold chills, depending on which one she had – Buffy slowly made her way out of the room, walking toward the stairs. Gripping the banister, she managed to slowly work her way down the stairs, breathing a sigh of relief when she reached the bottom, her hand immediately clamping over her mouth, trying to curb the sickening feeling that coursed through her.
Opening the front door, she grabbed a stake and tucked it into her jeans, closing her eyes when the soothing evening air hit her face.
"Just get to the Hyperion," she told herself, feeling a little better now that she wasn't confined to the house but hoping that she arrived at the hotel a little faster than she normally would on foot.
Wishful thinking.
Over two hours later, Buffy frequently had to stop to rest, hating that a simple slow walk could wind her when she was used to much more strenuous tasks. Ridiculing herself for not bringing money for a cab.
"Well, what do we have here?"
The cocky tone combined with the predator she sensed almost could've convinced Buffy that Spike was back and teasing her the way he usually did when he found her somewhere he didn't expect her to be.
But this voice didn't have the accent or the familiarity of the man she loved.
Slowly turning around, Buffy clenched her jaw when she saw the vampire behind her, moderately relieved when she felt the adrenaline automatically course through her body, causing her to nearly sag in relief that she might be able to defend herself.
Out of reflex, her first reaction was to grab the stake out of her waistband and taunt the vampire in front of her. But knowing that her reactions would be slower, her muscles weaker due to her lack of food and rest, Buffy knew that she would have to try a different tactic with this one. If she was to whip out her stake at this point, she wouldn't be surprised if it was swiftly knocked out of her hand.
"You have a girl who wants to go home," she retorted, pretending to play the part of the helpless female, knowing that he wouldn't be expecting her to know what he truly was, simply thinking that she'd stumbled across a man in a darkened alley.
"No, I don't think I'll let you do that."
Buffy watched as the man continued to walk toward her, shivering when she let him get closer to her than normal, hoping her reflexes were fast enough to get the stake into his heart without him realizing what she was doing. She gasped when she felt her arms grabbed in a vice-like grip, inwardly kicking himself for letting him get that close.
Instinctively knowing when his face shifted, Buffy cried out, struggling in his arms, her weakened body making her feel more vulnerable than she'd felt in years.
"N-no!" she cried, her heartbeat skyrocketing when she felt the fangs at her jugular, her mouth opening in a silent scream at the slicing feeling.
Struggling to breathe when she felt herself shoved away, her hand quickly covered the puncture wounds on her neck. She felt rejuvenated, stronger. Seeing the shocked look on the vampire's face, she nearly rolled her eyes, wondering how he could've missed the scars that layered the skin of her throat before sinking his teeth in.
Obviously he knew that she'd been claimed by a vampire much stronger than he was, and Buffy reveled in the terrified look on his face. "Yeah," she said with a smile, finally reaching for her stake, twirling it between her fingers. "You really should be more careful and check over your food before you sink your teeth in."
Not bothering to listen to whatever response might have come out of his mouth, Buffy threw the stake, sending it rotating through the air before landing squarely in the heart of the vampire. Watching with a smug look as he exploded into dust a few moments later, she closed her eyes, feeling the blood slipping through her fingertips, continuing on to trickle down her neck.
Buffy felt chilled at the knowledge that her fever was gone. Her body was as strong as it had always been. Looking behind her as if she could turn away from the obvious answers to her unasked questions, Buffy closed her eyes.
The fever, the cold chills, the hot flashes, the trembling – everything that could've been attributed to the fact that she had the flu. But there was one little problem. In twenty years, she'd never had the flu. Never had a cold, never had a fever – never been sick.
Her hand never moved from her throat as she touched the source of relief from her pain earlier. The bite that had been inflicted on her – the bite that she hadn't wanted, hadn't asked for – had automatically restored her health, seemingly healing her from her earlier pain. A solitary tear slipped down her cheek at the realization.
She hadn't been sick. She'd been having withdrawal symptoms.
Her whispered word seemed to carry through the alley as she stared disbelievingly at an unfocused place on the ground. "Fuck."
To be continued...