Rating: PG13
Pairing: none
Summary: Spike. Angst. Um...just read.
A/N: My first fic. It's a short one.
Feedback: Yes please. Be honest and gentle.
E-mail: jtzidanic@webtv.net
Distribution: If you like it, you can have it.
Disclaimer: The characters are Joss's. I just like to play with them.
Thanks: A big thank you to the Angels who pulled me out of my dank, dark closet. I owe you.
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~Part: 1~
Spike's POV
I stare at him as he lies on the cold ground, bleeding, forgotten, death hovering near. I can smell it you know? Death. Almost as strong as the smell of his blood. My demon screams inside of me, urging me to take, to taste.
The others, more worried about the Slayer - their "oh so great Chosen One" - have yet to take notice. Why would they? Compared to her, what is he? Nothing.
I think of all the times he threw himself head-first into danger, always their protector. Nothing meant more to him than keeping them safe, and of course saving the world.
Stupid white hat. Idiot. Look at you now.
I watch as the essence of his life runs from the open wound in his stomach. The poison from the demon we just fought, infecting him, keeping his blood from clotting.
If he doesn't get help soon, he will perish. I could help. But do I want to? Do I care? Why should I? I'm just another soulless demon. Incapable of caring, of feeling. Beneath him.
Would he help me?
Pfft. Yeah, right! Wouldn't stake my unlife on it. Stupid git. If anyone is beneath anyone, he is beneath me.
His hair, once brown and shiney, is now caked with blood and gore. His dark complexion, getting paler by the second.
Shouldn't be long now.
I glance in the direction of the others. Still fussing over the Slayer. The way she's whining about her stupid blouse being ruined, I guess she'll live.
Shame that.
His eyes haven't opened. He hasn't moved at all. Is he even aware that I am here? Maybe wondering if I'm going to help him or just walk away. Leave him lying here to die alone. Like the ones he thought cared. Thought were his friends.
If they don't care, why should I? Not like he was risking his hide for me. Not like he ever would.
Would he?
Funny, I would expect them to treat me like this. Not him. Although, not like they checked to see if I was still around either. But I am use to being forgotten. Left behind.
History there. Not going to think about that.
I remember the first time he saw me after I arrived in Sunnyhell. The look in his eyes. Disgust. Loathing. Like I was something he had just found stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
Couldn't scrape me off fast enough. Certainly would never have thought to touch me. Get close to me. Oh, no. Couldn't sully himself. Wanted nothing more than to see the Slayer stake me. Wipe me from existance so he'd never have to look at me again.
Oh, look at that. They're leaving. Helping the Slayer to the car. Looks like she hurt her leg. Hopping on one foot. Leaning on the Watcher and the Witch. Guess they are taking her to the hospital.
Heh. Maybe I'll get lucky and she'll get one of those staff infections hospitals are so famous for.
They still haven't remembered him though. Haven't thought to look for him or check to see if he was alright. To act like they cared or gave a damn.
So why should I?
I remember what it was like after I escaped from the Initiative. The feelings of fear and helplessness.
Things I haven't felt since the day I dug myself from my grave and was embraced in my Sire's strong arms. Since hearing whispered in my ear, that I would never feel those feelings again. But I did.
Oh yeah, I did.
Having to go to my mortal enemy and her band of merry misfits for help. For protection. Me, the Big Bad. Needing to be protected.
I can imagine what went through his mind when the Watcher and Slayer decided to keep me around. I can hear him telling Her Royal Sluttyness that I couldn't be believed. Couldn't be trusted. That the best thing for everyone would be for her to stake me. That she didn't need me. Not with him there to help her. Watch her back.
*Snicker* "Who was suppose to be watching yours Hero?"
His eyes start to flutter. His lips start to twitch. I can see his fingers move a little. Hmm. Must of heard me. Not quite as gone as I thought he was. Always was stronger than I gave him credit for.
Guess he would have to be. Always fighting the good fight. Having survived this long. Fighting because he cares.
But I don't. Not about them. Not about him.
Do I?
His eyes flutter again and then open. At first, they're glassy, faraway. They slowly start to clear, focus, hone in on me.
I think to myself - yeah, good, that's right. Look at me. See me. I'm the only one here. The only one that stuck around. The only one who can help.
But why should I? Why should I help? Why should I care?
And then I hear it. The answer to all my questions, just falls from his lips, as if it were the meaning of life itself.
And it is. Mine.
"Childe."
And I know why I am here. I know why I am the one to stay, to help.
"Sire", I say before slicing my wrist with my fangs and lowering it to his lips.
Because I do. I care.
~ Fin ~