Fixated

The End of All
 
 

    I've been having nightmares lately. I call them nightmares because it simplifies everything and eases my conscience, but I'm not sure I can decide whether I like these dreams or not. Let me tell you what they're about, and I think you'll understand what I mean.

    They're about Spike. Spike, Spike, Spike, Spike. Of all creatures on earth, Spike.

    Have you ever noticed that when you repeat a word enough times, it starts to lose its meaning? And then it gains a new one. Have you ever thought about how much of a dog's name Spike is? Thinking of a dog named Spike, the image of a German Sheperd with puppy eyes pops up in my mind. True, German Sheperds can be pretty dangerous, but the one in my mind isn't.

    And that's the entire problem with Spike -- the vampire, not the dog. I don't see him as a threat anymore. He's tried to kill me the Goddess knows how many times, and yet I can't consider him dangerous anymore. I tend to forget that the chip is probably the only thing standing between me and my death by his hands. Or by his fangs, really.

    I see him as a man now. He's nothing like Angel, apart from the whole vampire part. Angel loves to wrap himself up in that tortured vampire image. Angel won't let himself reach his so-called redemption, because Angel is deliberately placing himself on a different level than men.

    Spike isn't like that. All he wants, and all he's ever really wanted, is to be accepted. As a master vampire, he used to gain acceptance through violence. Now that he's chipped, we're the only thing he has left. He knows, in some dark and cryptic way, that the only way we can accept him is if we see him as a man.

    So that's what he's trying to be. A man. He's trying so hard that sometimes I do see him as such. But he can't ever know that, just like he can't know about the dreams, because it would be the end of all.

    These dreams feel so real. Most of the time we're in the sun, and he's not burning. His face shows such childish joy -- I bet he didn't enjoy it that much with the ring. Too intent on killing Buffy. But in my dreams, he looks as if every single cell of his body were beaming up with happiness.

    And he looks at me with these gorgeous blue eyes of his, he looks at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. And right when I feel confused enough, he leans in and kisses me, and I don't push him away. Oh, no. I even kiss him back. And I love the way our lips are crushed together, and the way his tongue plays with mine, and the way his hands encircle my waist. And I love the sight of the sun shining in his blue eyes, and the odour of leather and tobacco, and the sound of the soft moans he makes when I put my hands up in his hair, and the feeling of my heart pounding in my chest, and the taste of his blood as he pierces his own tongue.

    That's usually when I wake up, during the blood embrace, as I call it. He pierces his tongue on one of his canines, and I go on kissing him and swallowing his blood while he is in game face. And then he withdraws and bites me in the neck, and after he breaks my flesh the pain is gone, and the feeling of his drinking my blood fills me with pleasure.

    I don't know what happens after that, because I wake up. As if my brain refused to find out what my subconscious has in store next. Maybe it's a blessing, not to know.

    I do know one thing about those dreams. I know that they started after we exchanged blood. It was meant to save us all, but maybe there was another purpose. I keep hearing his words: 'Red did it for me.' Maybe I wanted to know what I had missed that day when he came in my room, the day we discovered about the chip.

    Then I have been fairly punished. He haunts my days and nights now. I cannot sleep without dreaming of him. Every time I think of Tara or see her, kiss her, hug her, make love to her, I can't prevent myself from thinking that having those dreams is not fair towards her, and that I am betraying her, by not telling her about them. And every time I see him, I can't stop blushing, every instant of the dreams comes vividly back to my mind, and my heart and soul are desperate to tell someone about it, by my mind prevents it.

    Nobody knows, and nobody must know. For otherwise, it would be the end of all.

----------

    I wake up from yet another nightmare involving Spike, sun, lust and blood. I can hear my ragged and rapid breath and feel my heart racing, and already I know Tara's eyes are on me, begging me to open up to her. But I can't. However much I would love to tell you, Tara honey, I can't.

    I turn to her and her worried eyes are indeed on me, begging and pleading for something I can't give her.

"Are you alright?" she asks me, putting a hand on one of my shoulders and squeezing it.

"Just a nightmare." I smile faintly, trying quite successfully to prevent my eyes from watering. I've become pretty good at acting by now; the dreams have been haunting me for a few weeks.

    I get up, escaping her touch and the sight of her accusing eyes. I can avoid their sight, but I still feel them on me, all the time, and it's almost unbearable. I go to my closet, find something to wear, anything, and quickly change.

    When I'm done I turn back to her. I wasn't prepared to see that. Silent tears are running down her cheeks. And I wish I could comfort her, but it's impossible, because she's crying because of me, and I can't tell her what she needs to hear.

"Talk to me," she begs, clutching her hands together.

    I lower my gaze, ashamed, torn, and determinate. "I can't." I know this is killing her as much as it's killing me, but I don't have the strength nor the honesty to tell her. I can't face the consequences.

    Before she can answer or burst into loud sobs or improvise a truth spell on me, though that's highly unlikely, I turn around, grab my bag and leave. Yes, I am a coward. But how am I supposed to admit that in a strange perverted way, I'm attracted to Spike?

    Oh, Goddess. I am attracted to Spike.

------------

    I walk into the Magic Box, praying that Anya will be the only one there. I'd have to bear her incessant chatter, unless she's counting her money again, but I know she wouldn't object to my checking out some spells in Giles' books. She and I have reached a truce. Now I need to find out what caused this obsession. I know it has to do with the exchange of blood, but that's all.

    I have to find something to explain this obsession.

"Willow."

    I turn to the counter, where Giles stands, his eyebrows lifted in slight surprise.

"What are you doing here this early?"

    Think, Rosenberg, think. I look at my watch, notice it's only 8:30. Think harder girl. You're supposed to be the smart one. Come on.

"I think I forgot one of my books here." I smile weakly, hoping he'll believe me. He looks suspiciously at me, and I wonder why he'd believe such an obvious lie.

"Fair enough. Be my guest, look around."

    I supress a sigh as I nod and smile again, then pretend to look around for my book. "Isn't Anya working this morning?" Small talk isn't that great an idea, 'cause you know you'll begin to babble and end up telling him everything. Good going, Willow.

"No, she, umm, phoned me earlier, and Xander has a day off. They are therefore... busy."

    I smile broadly. As much as I hate having to admit it, Xander needed an ex-demon just like Anya. I go back to the business at hand. "She may have put it upstairs, don't you think?" I talk with my back to him, unable to look him in the eye right now.

"Yes, maybe." He replies absentmindedly, so I turn around and see he is intently examining some receipt.

"I'll go have a look."

"Of course."

    No need to tell me twice. I hurry up the ladder, kneel in front of the shelves and start looking for a specific book. I know Giles has it, I just don't know where. Ha! Here it is. The Aurelius Chronicles. A book full of info on relationships and spells involving vampires and humans. Aurelius is the order to which Spike belongs.

"Did you find it?"

    I put it quickly in my bag and look down to the floor. Giles stands there expectantly, hands in his pockets, unsuspicious of my lie, of my betrayal. "Yep, I did." I turn around and hurry down the ladder. "Thanks. I have to go now." I smile before walking away.

    As I reach the door, I hear him call my name. "Willow?" I turn around, slowly, fearing what I will see, fearing what I will hear. He has taken his glasses away, his brow furrowed. "Are you alright? I'm afraid that perhaps I haven't been there for you lately."

    I will not cry. I will not. Noone has meant that question while asking it for such a long time, apart from Tara. Tara. I cannot afford to tell Giles. Although he would probably be the only one really helpful. "No, I'm ok, really. Don't worry about me."

    He bends his head, cleans his glasses, puts them back on and looks up. "Good. I'll see you later then."

"Sure. See ya."

    And I walk out.

    The sun's shining, the wind's softly blowing. And Giles asked me if I was alright not because he'd noticed something was off, not because he'd seen through me. He asked me because he felt he wasn't doing what he was supposed to do. He asked me so that he'd feel better.

    Maybe I did develop acting skills.

-----------------

   Sometimes, often, you think you've hit the lowest. And then something else happens.

    I've been reading the Aurelius Chronicles for a few hours now. I haven't found anything about my obsession, and yet I don't feel these hours were wasted away. Something wrong is happening.

    I read about Sire and Childe, and I began to understand what happened between Spike and Angelus, and Spike and Angel. I began to grasp what the concept of family meant to vampires. Something grand, and important, full of emotions, domination and hate, love and submission. Sire and Childe share ties which overcome human links.

    Then I read about mates. Humans and vampires in love. Really in love. Not just passionate 'I want to turn you' love. More of a sweet and tender 'I'll be there 'til you die' love. Apparently this sort of love isn't appreciated by most vampires, they think it's a weakness. Only more refined vampires know it. More refined, and more dangerous.

    I read about the mating ritual too. A bonding much more demanding and definite than our human marriage. Two mates will truly be together until death do they apart. I say two mates, but this rite is also more open-minded. The number of mates is not restricted.

    I read about spells, rituals I had never heard of, which can only be performed by mates. I read about legends, myths of famous mates, all evil. As if there were no way for the human to influence the vampire, as if only evil could be learnt.

    I read about vampire thirst, vampire stamina, vampire needs, leisure activities, phobias. I read about turnings, how the demon creeps in and fights the soul away. I read about all the master vampires in the order of Aurelius. The Master was there, as well as Darla, Angelus and Spike. I read about them, learnt of atrocities I wish I could have never pictured.

    And something wrong is happening.

    There was a time when I sympathised with Spike, the way I sympathise with everyone. Now I do not merely feel sorry for him. I'm also growing to like him, as an actual being. He's a monster! But I think I understand what he's going through. And comprehension doesn't mean hate.

    Comprehension means love.

--------

    I've spent my day at the public library. Noone has come here to find me, and it's a small blessing. I know I should have gone back to Tara. But I had to read the Chronicles, and then I didn't have courage enough to go back. I know I am losing her, but telling her the truth would result in the same thing, only quicker.

    Dusk is a few minutes away. I should go now. Half my day has been spent thinking. Thinking wrong thoughts, feeling wrong things. Not doing anything. Not finding anything.

    I gather my stuff, get up and leave.

    A few minutes later, I come to the Magic Box. I push the door open and walk in, not knowing what to expect. They're sitting at the table or standing around it, and now they're all looking at me. They all have the same worried frown. And realisation hits me. They know. They know about the book.

    Tara's here too. Her eyes are red and puffy, it's obvious she's been crying again. Why is all this happening to me? Oh, right, because I let myself be drunk by a gorgeous vampire.

    Speaking of which, Spike's just entered the room by the backdoor. He looks up, surprised at the obvious tension. "Did someone die?" He almost sounds hopeful, but I for one know he isn't.

    Some of them have turned their gaze away from me, to him. But Giles is still looking at me when he asks softly: "Why did you steal that book, Willow?"

"Hey! I didn't steal anything! I just borrowed it."

"And when exactly were you planning to tell me I had lent it to you?"

    Ok. Maybe it sort of looks like I stole it, but I was gonna give it back. Their faces all look so grave and serious. And Dawn isn't here, obviously. My problems and I aren't something a little girl should be confronted with.

    Spike is leaning against the door to the training room. An unlit cigarette is hanging at the corner of his lips, crooked in an amused smirk. Now more than ever, I'm struck by his beauty, the thin features of his face, the scar on his left, lifted eyebrow, the sexy grin, and oh Goddess I really need a therapy.

"I'm sorry, Giles, but I wanted to read it and I knew you wouldn't let me -"

"We're worried about you," the Slayer interrupts me. She's worried about me? How come that didn't strike me earlier? Oh, I know, maybe because they didn't notice, not any of them, that I wasn't doing well.

    Tara noticed. She was the only one. I face her.

"Tara, honey -"

"Don't," she says. Why isn't anyone letting me finish a single sentence? "If you wanna o-open up, now is the t-time. If you don't," she turns her watery eyes away from me, "we're through."

    Ok, that didn't come exactly out of the blue, but still. At least, despite my shock, I know exactly what I have to answer. Tears are spilling from my eyes, my throat is hurting and I know my voice will shake. "Then we're through."

    I want to run away from them. They look so taken aback, what did they expect? That I would lose her by telling her the truth? I'm losing her while protecting her. Sometimes what seems like cruelty is indeed a blessing. I wanna run away.

    But she does so, before me. She springs to her feet and leaves. All their eyes follow her, except Spike's and mine. We stare at each other. His gaze feels like it's piercing me, physically piercing my skin. His gaze hurts, because I love it. It's undecipherable, always so cold.

"What was the book, Red?"

    And I cannot lie to him, not while all the strength I have in me is focused on not letting my obsession take over my body and mind completely. "The Aurelius Chronicles."

    A satisfied grin spreads on his lips, as if he'd just received the confirmation that he was looking for. Goddess, he knows. How could he not know? He's a vampire, with vampire smell and... oh, Goddess.

    I turn away. I hear them all calling after me, but I don't listen. I walk away, clutching my bag to me. The book's still in it.

    They're all calling after me. My last chance of redemption, Angel would have said. But I want no redemption. I only need Spike. His lips, his hands, his eyes, his body, all mine. I need him like I never needed anyone before, and I can't have him.

    So I just walk away.

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