***
 

Her neck was aching, a dull throb that pounded with every beat of her heart, and Spike's arms were crushing her.  Moving slightly she tried to relieve the unrelenting pressure, but to no avail.  Sighing she closed her eyes only to be filled with the vivid images of a wild and animalistic Spike, barely in control.  He'd hurt her, frightened her and marked her.  And now apparently he wasn't going to let her go.  She was certain he was awake, usually he would kiss her, tease her or play with her, but there was nothing, just an emptiness and confinement. With the small amount of movement his crushing hold afforded her, she ran her fingers lightly across the cool flesh of his arms, trying to soften their hold.

As her fingers moved against him she glanced about the massive and richly decorated room.  Decadent and deviant was the best way to describe it.  Willow had no doubt that it had been Angelus' room.  She had never ventured further than the main area and Angel's old room when she had been in the mansion.  The upper level was completely foreign to her, until now.  It frightened her that Spike had lost so much control and felt the need for his terrifying display of dominance here, in this room.  She couldn't even begin to comprehend what was going on with him at the moment.

"Spike?" she asked softly, hoping for some type of response.  She got none.  Closing her eyes she swallowed, silently begging him to say something, to do something.  She couldn't stand it anymore. "I have to go."

Her voice was barely a whisper but it seemed to shatter the silence of the room.  She waited for him to say no, for him to demand she stay with him ~ she wanted him too.  She knew he was in pain and even if he couldn't tell her why, she needed to know that he wanted her, needed her.

Spike grunted, pulled his arms away from her and rolled over.  She was free to go, free to leave him.  For a brief moment she thought she was going to cry, instead she pushed herself up and off the massive bed moving down to where their abandoned clothes lay scattered about.  Grabbing her jeans she pulled them on and shoved her feet into her shoes. She reached down to pick up her shirt only to snatch her hand away from it, like it was poison.  It was nothing more than a torn rag.  He'd torn it from her in his brutal display of affection.  Affection...such a strange word to use really.  Did he care for her, or was she just some sort of substitute for Drusilla?  Last night she must have been a poor substitute because he obviously didn't want her there, he couldn't even stand talking to her.  Upset she sat down on the end of the bed, cradling her aching neck and trying not to cry.  He didn't want her there, he was so cold and distant ~ all she wanted to do was go, but she couldn't leave because he'd destroyed her clothes.

"Take mine," his voice shattered her thoughts.  She turned slightly and glanced at him.  He was lying on his stomach, eyes closed, head buried in a pillow. Tearing her eyes away from his still form she reached down and snatched up his black t-shirt. Standing up she dragged it down over her head and started to head for the bedroom door.  Pausing she partially turned her head, not willing to look at him.

"I'll...I guess...I'll see you later," she mumbled, desperate for him to say something, for him to do something.  There was no response.  Swallowing back the tears she made a mad dash for the stairs and was halfway to the front door before his voice stopped her.

"Willow," it was a soft growl, she turned around slowly.  He was standing at the top of the stairs clad in his jeans the fly only partially done up.

"Yes?" she murmured, desperately wanting him to ask her to stay, tell her everything was fine or would be fine.  She just wanted him to hold her and tell her that he needed her as much as she was finding she needed him.  Most of all she wanted him to tell her why, why last night had happened.  She begged him silently, her eyes full of longing.

"Will you..." he paused and clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing gold as he glanced about the mansion.  "Come back here...tonight."

She nodded mutely. He didn't want her to stay that was obvious to her.  Crossing her arms she turned on her heel and left the mansion.  Her mind numb and blank as she started the trek back to campus, one thing repeating, the thought that he didn't want her anymore.

"FUCK!" screamed Spike, clutching his head and walking down the stairs. All he wanted to do was ask her to stay, not to leave him alone in this place, with his memories, his pain, his hatred.  But he couldn't.  He just let her walk away, leave him, just like...

He'd fucked everything up.  Bought her here, tried to beat his personal demons by almost beating her.  He knew he'd hurt her. His head, the whole time he'd been savagely fucking her, taking out his frustrations, was killing him. Not enough to make him stop though, it was that fine line between pleasure and pain.  Pain, it had blinded him when he'd bitten her, a final act of brutality in his need to dominate her.  And what had she done?  She'd soothed him, calmed him down, comforted him.  He'd been so close to really wanting to hurt her, see her blood cover his hands, beat her ~ it scared him.  He hated himself.

Why the fuck had he even come here?  Angelus, that's why.  All he could think of when he pulled up in front of the mansion was Angelus.  Angelus ignoring him, ridiculing him, taking Dru from him, but mostly ignoring him.  Anger, hatred, frustration and pain had flooded him.  He wanted nothing more than to exert himself, show that he was stronger, that he was the one in charge, that he was his own master and Willow had been there.  So he had taken her without regard, dominating her and marking her.  He'd fucked up.

He stopped his blind wanderings and looked about the room he had walked into to.  It was the room that he'd occupied while he was weak and disabled, the same room that Angel had slept in after he came back from hell.  Although cold and murky, it still wreaked of his sire.  Spike glanced about.  How many times had he been confined in this room, trapped by his disability, forced to endure Angelus?  Too many for his liking.  It still held the same bed, the same curtains, same barren emptiness and loneliness that he had suffered and he wondered at Angel's actions taking the same room.  Perhaps he didn't want to be reminded of the deviance and decadence of the upper level.  Anger grew in him; memories flooded him of Angelus, of Angel, of Dru and his little redhead...all in this mansion.  Pain, lust, love, hatred, fear, loathing it was like a kaleidoscope of emotions, spiralling and twisting, wrapping and warping him.

Suddenly he morphed, the demon coming to the fore, as he realised that was it.  This house, this room represented everything he was when he was weak and helpless ~ he hated it, but he was strong now, he would beat it.  He wasn't that Spike anymore, anger, hatred and frustration screamed through his body and he picked up the chair smashing it against the wall, shattering it and causing a great chunk of plaster to fall from the wall.  Storming over to the wardrobe he threw the doors open and started to destroy the clothes that Angel had left there in his rush to leave Sunnydale.  Carefully and meticulously he worked his way through that room destroying and annihilating anything and everything.

Some two hours later there was nothing left but piles of shredded material, shattered furniture and rubble.  Spike was kneeling in the middle of the destruction, his hands bleeding, his pale chest covered in cuts and abrasion, his hair in disarray and his head bowed.

"You can go to hell Angelus," he spat vehemently at the chaos he had created.  "I'll be happy here and you can't fuck it up this time."

And so his thoughts turned and took a new direction, one that included a redheaded witch who was across town sitting in her psychology lecture.

***

Willow listened, what were they talking about?  What was Buffy asking her?  She couldn't hear anything...things were muted and distorted.  Buffy's voice sounded a million miles away while the lecturer seemed to boom.  When she'd gotten back she'd grabbed her things and taken a shower, hot and scalding, hissing as the water pounded onto her bruised skin.  Fingerprints lined her hips and she was pretty sure that she'd pulled a muscle in her leg.  And of course there was her neck, a rough, deep and angry bite.  It wasn't neat mark, his fangs had torn her flesh as she had tried to soothe him.  As she rolled her head she wondered if he had actually punctured a muscle, it was so sore and tender.  She scrubbed herself from head to foot, trying to erase the memories, trying to ease the pain with hot water.  It didn't work.

Now as she sat in psych, dressed in a high-necked shirt, she stared blindly at the lecturer and wondered about Spike.  He was a demon, she knew that, but that didn't explain last night.  He'd been like a man possessed, filled with a desperate need, a need to prove something and he'd used her to do so.

Could it have been Dru?  Was it really that?  His entire vampire life had been spent with her, was Willow fooling herself to think that she was anything but a distraction until he found a way to get Dru back? Willow frowned and shook her head.  No it was more than just Dru.  It had to be.  Also he'd bitten her, he'd pushed himself beyond that comfort zone and bitten her, marked her.  Surely that meant something, it was a way of showing possession in the vampire world. Then why did it make her feel so bad?  She felt like it meant nothing to him, that he was disgusted that he'd even gone to the trouble of doing it this morning.  Maybe he didn't really want her.  She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. He didn't want her.  That's what she had felt when she left the mansion, it's what she felt now, he didn't want her.

"Willow?" Riley was calling her.  She opened her eyes and looked at him.  He looked concerned.  "Are you okay?  You look like you're about to pass out."

"Actually, I think I might go...if that's okay?" she whispered, students were staring at her, murmurs had started when the TA had quietly made his way up the edge of the theatre to talk to the pale redhead.

"Sure. Buffy, you can take notes," he stated looking at the blonde and gracing her with a smile.  "Can't you?"

Buffy nodded and smiled, her hand reaching out to Willow as she gathered her books.  "Get some rest, I'll pick up the assignments and everything."

"Thanks," murmured Willow, letting Riley help her and lead her up to the back entrance of the lecture theatre, away from the ongoing lecture.

"Are you really okay?" Riley asked once they were outside.  Willow looked up at him, he was too tall for his own good at times.

"Yeah, I'm fine...I'll be okay," she nodded her head.  That's what she'd said to everyone when Oz left.  I'm fine...I'll be okay.  Was that going to happen again?  Was Spike going to leave as well?  Her stomach lurched and she felt dizzy.  Riley's hand shot out and steadied her.

"Okay, you're not fine.  Let's go," he took her bag and led her away, down to one of the campus' more secluded and quiet cafés.  Sitting her down he left her briefly to fetch them some coffee.  "So what's going on?"

Willow stared at him blankly for a moment before giving him a half smile and shaking her head.  "I don't know."

Then she giggled.  It seemed ridiculous.  She was talking to a guy who was indirectly responsible for her and Spike getting together.  She couldn't very well say 'oh well my vampire boyfriend, who nobody knows I'm seeing, just went completely psycho on me last night and now can't stand the sight of me...and he's going to leave...' No, she doubted that Riley would understand that.  She smiled sadly and took an interest in her coffee.

"It's nothing that anyone can help me with, Riley," she said softly, her fingers delicately tracing the rim of her coffee mug, pale and smooth like Spike's skin.

"You feel like that now, Willow.  But..." he paused for a moment, looking at the tired redhead before him.  "You know you have friends who care about you, about what you are going through.  If it's about Oz leaving..."

Willow grimaced.  Everyone thought it was about Oz leaving.  Maybe it was. She was terrified that Spike was going to leave...but it was different...wasn't it?

"Why do people always leave anyway?" she asked offhandedly.  Riley shrugged.

"I don't know.  Sometimes it's easier to run away than face your problems," he caught Willow's eye and smiled.  "It takes a strong person to actually stand up to their demons, Willow, to conquer them."

***

Spike paced.  The sun had been down for an hour now and there was no sign of Willow.  Where the fuck was she?  Again he made a general sweep of the ground floor of the mansion.  He'd spent the remainder of the day lurking and puzzling through the various rooms of the house, ideas and thoughts running rampant in his mind, and the desperate need for a sledgehammer.  He'd tidied up the main foyer and living area, sweeping it out, clearing away the debris that had accumulated.  Upstairs he had changed the sheets in their room, and made plans to move the furniture...plans he needed to discuss with Willow.  But she wasn't there.

"Oh bloody hell," he swore spinning about and punching the air.  "Where the fuck are you?"

He knew she had classes until four, but that was hours ago.  She should have been there by now.  He paced the room again, his boots leading him up to the shattered remnants of the front door, and glanced out into the shadows of the night.  There was no sign of her.  Frustrated he walked down the front steps and got on the bike.

***

"Can you give me a lift somewhere?" Willow asked Riley.  They'd been sitting, drinking various beverages and talking about nothing and everything for hours now.  It was one of those comfortable non-sharing chats that she used to have with her friends all the time, now they seemed too busy with other things.  Buffy with Riley, Xander with Anya, Giles with...well let's face it she'd never sat around talking nonsense to Giles so he didn't count.  It had been nice and Riley was charming and intelligent, offering his opinion and taking a genuine interest in hers.  It had also given her time to think and she didn't realise it was so late.

"Sure, where to?"

"Crawford Street."

***

Spike gunned the motorcycle, making its engine roar.  He'd really fucked up.  He should have just asked her to stay ~ he knew she didn't need an explanation, if he had asked she would've stayed and he'd still have her.  But did he?  No.  He was starting to hate himself for letting her just walk away this morning.  She wasn't in her dorm, or at Giles, he'd briefly called in to say he was moving out.

"Why?" asked Giles somewhat taken back by the loss of his vampire roommate.

"Well I can't stand you checking my ass out every five minutes," he'd said sarcastically.  "It makes me feel all violated."

And she wasn't at her parents' house, they were as usual out of town and the whole place was securely locked up.  So that left him riding about the streets, considering his options.  There weren't a lot.  He didn't like this, not knowing where she was ~ she belonged to him and she should be by his side.  If that made him selfish...too bad, it was how he felt.  She was his and he wanted her, needed her and he had come so close to destroying her last night.  Suddenly the thought struck him...had he destroyed her?  That would explain why she hadn't shown up, why he couldn't find her now.  His thoughts were distracted as the front wheel of the motorcycle hit a loose patch of gravel and skidded.  The bike slid down onto its side, trapping Spike under its massive weight, sparks flew as metal dragged across the road.  Finally it came to a complete halt with Spike still pinned by one leg under the bike.  Grimacing he shifted his weight, checking to see if he'd done any damage.  He could feel gravel rash along his calf and thigh, his jeans were definitely torn on one leg, apart from that he was fine.

"This is just fucking great," he screamed violently kicking out at the heavy bike with his free leg sending it spiralling up into the night air and falling a few feet away from him.  He rolled over to his back and banged his head against the road.  "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

He repeated the word with every bang of his head.  How could he be so fucking stupid?  So wrapped up in his own needs and torment that he'd merely brushed Willow aside without a second thought.  He'd bitten her for fucks sake, marked her, claimed her.  It was meant to be something special and tender, instead he'd cheapen it into some pathetic show of dominance to make himself feel better.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he screamed at the night.  Standing up he stalked over to the bike and got back on.

***

Willow made her way upstairs.  Something was different, her shoes didn't make any sound on the floor, no crunching as she walked.  Slowly she walked into the master bedroom, the bed had been remade and there was no sign of Spike.

"Oh god," she muttered, suddenly feeling sick.  Silently she crawled onto the huge bed and curled up into a ball, rocking herself.  He'd left.

***

Spike glanced down at the tiny pair of gloves he held in his hand, so small and fragile.  Just like Willow.  And he held her fragile future in his hands just as easily as he held the gloves, and he could destroy it just as easily...if he hadn't already.

"Anything else tonight?" asked the sales assistant, a typical biker girl blonde wearing all Harley Davidson clothes.  Spike glanced up and looked at the piles of clothes she held.  A few leather jackets, pants and helmets.  Everything that Spike would need to make sure that Willow would be safe riding on the bike.  The last things were these gloves, gloves that would protect her hands, hands that in a way protected him.

"Yeah, these," he stated quietly adding the fine black leather gloves to her burden.  He strolled up to the cashier and pulled out a great wad of money ready to pay for it all.  He'd take it back to the mansion before he'd go out and look for her again.

***

As soon as he walked through the door, he could sense her, smell her, hear her heart beat echo through the empty mansion.  He sighed, relief flooding him, she'd come back to him.  Slowly he made his way up the staircase and to their bedroom, pausing in the doorway to take in her sleeping form.  She was too pale, too tired. He was selfish, wanting her all the time, he was too demanding ~ he sometimes forgot she was really only a young girl.  Carefully he shrugged out of his duster, tossed it aside and removed his boots.  Inch by inch he crawled up the bed over her sleeping form, his arms and legs encircling her. Lowering his head he brushed his lips across hers, a soft tender kiss.  She shifted slightly, gradually waking up.  Spike smiled and brushed his lips over the ragged bite mark he'd left, licking at it, trying to soothe the angry red mark.

"Spike?" Willow murmured opening her eyes, her hands wandering to stroke his hair and arm.  He shifted above her, lowering himself to her body, and resting his head against her breasts, revelling in her warmth while his arms wrapped about her.

"Forgive me?" it was a question that was barely audible, but it spoke volumes to Willow.  Tears that she had held back all day welled up in her eyes, silently falling onto her sleep-flushed cheeks.  Her arms snaked about him, holding him to her.  Together they held each other, purging the pain and confusion that had plagued them.
 

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