Pairing: W/S
Rating: Pg-13
Distribution: Red’s Soulmates, my site Fatal Mistakes (www.angelfire.com/vamp/fatalmistakes); anyone want, just ask.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything, not even Spike, but a girl can wish.
Spoilers: Season 6, after Willow’s overdose on magic and Tara leaves her.
Summary: Willow feels lost and finds comfort from an unexpected source.
Author’s Notes: Spike and Buffy never hooked up, because just thinking about it gives me nightmares. He still has the chip of course. The song used is by Beverly Craven and can be found on her album “Mixed Emotions”.
Feedback: Yes, please. See, I’m asking nicely…
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Willow watched the small group converse inside the Magic Box, a look of longing and sadness crossing her face. She wasn’t welcome there, she knew that. Ever since she almost got Dawn killed she had become a pariah among her former friends. To them, she wasn’t their Willow anymore. She was a user, a junkie, worthless. Someone to be looked down upon, despised. She supposed they were right, in a way. She wasn’t her biggest fan at the moment. She couldn’t blame them for not wanting to see her. She could barely stand to look at her own reflection in the mirror.
She didn’t recognize herself anymore. She would peer into the glass and frown. The face before her was so worn out, so tired. The person staring back at her looked old, and so very despondent. How could her life come to this? She was the responsible one, book gal. Maybe that was it, the good ones always go bad…eventually. And their fall is so much more devastating. She felt lost and cold. More than anything she needed the support of her friends, but she would get none. They were angry with her, not that she could blame them. With one last look inside, the shaking redhead turned her back on the store, unable to watch them so happy together. She should be there, but that wasn’t possible.
They didn’t want her there, and to be truthful she didn’t think she could stomach the glares that would surely be sent her way. Even Xander, her dearest friend, couldn’t stand to be in her presence, that hurt more than anything. So she headed home. She briefly considered going back to the Summer’s home, but inevitably she would have to deal with them there and she was afraid of the confrontation. There was only one place left, to her parent’s home. She never called it her house, it was never hers. She really didn’t have a place to call home, but right now, all she needed was a place to rest her head. Maybe if she’d lay down the trembling would stop.
The witch cursed herself for even stepping out into the night. She was still wiped out, she had no business being out of bed. But she was becoming stir crazy, she needed the fresh air. But now she wished she had just fought her desire. She was only adding to her pain. During her walk back home, one picture played constantly through her mind. All of them, Buffy absently twirling a stake in her right hand as she listened to Xander make some stupid joke. Anya with her arm around her fiancé’s waist, Dawn sitting at the table in the center of the store, thumbing through her history book, Tara seated awkwardly beside the teen, and Spike leaned back in his chair, feet up on the table, saying nothing but a thoughtful look on his face. They didn’t need her, so she’d do them a favor. She get her things from Buffy’s house some other time, she just wanted to rest. She smiled sadly, they probably wouldn’t even know she had left. But that was okay, she would be fine on her own.
It's easier here on the outside
Telling her what we'd do
If they put us in her position
If we were stood in her shoes
But destiny's already written
And she has to learn to survive
So leave her to make those decisions
And take back control of her life
Spike didn’t know why he bothered to come to their boring little Scooby meeting. He wasn’t a damn Scooby and he had no desire to be. But sadly he had nothing better to do and making fun of Xapper and Slutty would make for a relatively entertaining evening. He glanced around the room with a look of shame. Red wasn’t here.
No big surprise there. She was in no condition to do pointless research. What he couldn’t believe is that people who had the nerve to call themselves her friends had left her alone. She was sick, horribly so, couldn’t keep anything down, was running a high fever, and had a bad case of the shakes. Someone should have stayed behind, who knows what could happen to the witch while she was alone. She could be crying out in pain, in need of help at that very moment, and they wouldn’t know. He wasn’t sure they would even care.
He spared a glare at the twitchy blonde witch that sat a few feet away from him. She claimed to love the redhead and then she left her when she needed her the most. Some loyalty there. They all should have been ashamed of themselves. He remembered when he and the Slayer had stumbled upon the witch and Niblet, after they had gotten in the car wreck and fought that demon. That fragile girl was begging and pleading for someone to listen, to forgive her. She realized how badly she had screwed up and what she could have done, who she could have hurt. But did they help her? No, all she got for her troubles was a slap in the face from Dawn and disgust from the Slayer. Even then, crawling on her knees, tears streaming down her face, they didn’t spare her a second glance. Shamefully he admitted that he did nothing as well. But he was a demon, he never claimed to like the chit, not like the rest of them. Their reactions had to cut her deeper than his.
She doesn't need saving
She's not given up yet
All she needs is our faith to replace her regret
And help her forget
So give her some time to grow stronger
And let her decide what to do
She's been through so many changes
And right now she's still confused
But when she's discovered the answers
She doesn't feel so afraid
She'll have the power of wisdom
And no-one can take that away
The bleach blonde felt a familiar presence and turned his head to the front of the shop. No one entered the store but a flash of red caught his eye. He didn’t know why she was out of bed, he didn’t even know how she had the strength to walk, but there was Red. And she looked miserable.
He distinctly remembered a time when seeing such a devastated look in a person’s eyes made him smile, but now he only managed to frown. She was looking in on her friends, feeling every bit the outsider, pain radiating from her tiny body. She wanted to join them, he could tell. He understood why, these people were her only family. But she knew she wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms so she stayed away.
She was swaying dangerously, shaking and not from the cold. He tapped down his sudden urge to stand and walk purposely out of the store and to her side. He felt this unfamiliar need to be there for her, to do what he could to make her better. He knew Willow, the strong, fiery witch who could ignore her fear as she stood up to him. This wasn’t Willow. This one was weak and scared. He wanted Red back, the one he knew. The one he respected.
She doesn't need saving
She's not given up yet
All she needs is our faith to replace her regret
And help her forget
The past and the pain
And try to start over again
Cos she knows
Where she wants to go
So leave her alone
Trust her to find her own way
Willow left soon after he spotted her, probably going home. He remained in his chair, debating the merits of leaving the boring research party to find the witch. Hearing Xapper crack yet another, what he considered witty, one-liner, he decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He stood abruptly, almost knocking his chair over in the process. The noise drew the attention of the others and he gave no goodbye as he strode across the room and out the door. Buffy merely shrugged at his actions and returned to her conversation with Xander and Tara. She didn’t really care what Spike did, and if he wanted to leave she wasn’t about to argue with him.
The slayer sighed as she looked to the vacant chair beside Tara, ignoring the chatter around her. She would be lying if she said she didn’t miss Willow. But no one could be around the redhead right now. Dawn was still a bit frightened and a lot angry, Buffy had her own share of anger. Xander was just disappointed, as was Tara. And Anya didn’t seem very surprised, apparently she saw this coming. It would have been nice if she had warned somebody. They all wanted their Willow back, they just weren’t sure if that was possible anymore.
She doesn't need saving she doesn't need
She's not given up yet
All she needs is our faith to replace her regret
She doesn't need saving she doesn't need
She's not given up yet
All she needs is our faith to replace her regret
And help her forget
She doesn't need saving
He stood outside the Summer’s house, lighting a cigarette and tearing his gaze away from the barren home. No lights flickered, no heartbeats sounded, Willow’s scent barely tinted the breeze. It was quite obvious she wasn’t here, hadn’t come back at all since she had left.
Spike threw the butt to the ground, smashing the remainder underneath his boot as he turned around and headed in the opposite direction. He knew he could find her, if he had to he could go back to the Magic Box and track her scent from there. But he doubted he would have to resort to such measures. Unknown to the Slayer’s gang, he knew where they all lived. He always did. There was only one other place the redhead could be. She had long since moved out of the dorms and Buffy’s house had become home while the slayer was gone all those months before. If she wasn’t there, then she had to be at her parent’s.
He wished she had never bothered to bring the blonde bint back. That may sound callous, but it was true. They had been in need of serious help back then, especially once word got out that the slayer was a goner, but things would have been much better in the end if they hadn’t meddled with nature. Fate has a way to come back and bite you in the ass.
While he may have fancied himself in love with the blonde, her death allowed him time to really think. He didn’t love her, he knew that now. That year had to have been the most screwed up and horrifying one of his entire unlife, starting all with that bloody chip. He admitted to having a reluctant respect for the girl, she was good at her job after all, but that was it. They weren’t friends and he had no desire for that or anything more. She didn’t want him and he sure as hell didn’t want her either.
But that had nothing to do with his earlier wish. Willow may have meant well, may have thought that Buffy was suffering unbelievable torments in some hell dimension and thought she was only doing good by resurrecting her. But you know what they say. The road to Hell is paved with good intensions. She delved into some serious dark mojo and opened the gateway to her destruction. What bothered him was that he could have helped her. Her friends may be oblivious, but he was well aware of the dangerous line she was walking and he did nothing to stop her from falling. Truthfully, she had him a bit fascinated. The budding darkness in her, something that had always been there, hidden but there, had him enthralled. He was a demon, after all, evil through and through. He had no soul, no conscience, so he didn’t really need an excuse for why he did nothing. But nonetheless, he was a little angry with himself. He had no idea it was going to get this bad.
He found himself outside her modest home and he began to question himself. She wouldn’t want him there. She didn’t want anybody’s pity, besides they weren’t even friends. She probably thought he hated her. He didn’t, hadn’t in quite sometime.
It would surely surprise the hell out of her to know that ever since that love spell mess a few years back she had been on his mind. Even when he fancied himself falling for other girls, she was always there in the back of his mind. He had even offered to turn her. She probably didn’t think much of that, but that was a telling gesture on his part. He could see himself spending an eternity with that one.
But that was all of no consequence right now. Taking a deep, unneeded breath the blonde stepped forward, not even bothering with the front door. She would no doubt be in bed and lacked the energy to make her way to the door. He easily vaulted himself onto her balcony, landing in a cat-like crouch before her French doors.
Her curtains were pulled back slightly and he was able to see her form across her bed. She was sweating profusely, tossing and turning uncomfortably as she twisted in the sheets. He took hesitant steps to her doors, knocking gently on the glass and awaited a response. The groggy redhead couldn’t even bring herself to sit up, instead only turned her head in the direction of the noise. Her brow furrowed when she caught sight of Spike standing there, a pensive expression across his handsome face. She realized he was waiting for an invitation, he had never been inside her house before. She called out a weak ‘come in’ before closing her eyes again, hating the uncontrollable tremors that made their way through her body.
She heard the door click behind him as he moved to walk inside. She was curious as to why he was here, but said nothing, she was too tired. When a couple minutes had passed and he remained silent, she forced herself to look up, craning her neck to glance in front of her. He was standing at the foot of her bed, his eyes concerned as he stared at her. She strained to ask him what he wanted but he shushed her immediately.
“Don’t force it, pet,” he advised as he tentatively sat next to her on her mattress, pushing back her sweat slicked hair from her face. She still looked so confused and he had to smile. That was the first emotion other than despair he had seen on her face in days.
“Was worried about you, Red,” he told her, his voice teasingly reprimanding. “Your sodding friends should be here, taking care of you,” he added gruffly. She chuckled sadly, the sound hollow to his ears.
“It’s my fault,” she managed, unable to look him in the eye. “I’m not anyone’s responsibility. Don’t wanna be a charity case…plus they hate me.”
“They don’t hate you, love,” he groaned as he helped her rearrange her covers so she could rest more comfortably. “You gave them a good scare. ‘Bout time if you ask me,” he said with a slight grin.
“Why are you here?” she finally asked as her heavy eyes fluttered closed.
“Because I was sitting in that bloody shop tonight listening to those gits prattle on and on and, believe me or not,” he sighed as he watched her fight to sleep, “It’s not the same without you…” She felt the bed shift as he moved to stand, seeing that she might be able to sleep. Her eyes shot open in a panic and looked to him pleadingly.
“You’re not gonna leave?” she whispered, her voice sounding very much like a little girl’s. It struck him how much she reminded him of Drusilla at that very moment. “Please don’t go,” she begged sorrowfully. “I’m so tired of being alone.”
He took one look at her and shrugged off his duster before kicking off his boots and joining her once more. She curled around him as he lay next to her, his coolness soothing her feverish body. His arm slipped around her to hold her loosely.
“Don’t worry Willow,” he murmured, shocking her by using her real name. “You’re not alone anymore. I’ll get you better, I promise.” He knew he probably sounded like a right ponce, but he was sucker for being needed, and this girl needed him desperately.
She allowed herself to relax for the first time in weeks, his pledge comforting her. He made her feel safe for some reason. She had no idea what prompted him to pay her a visit, but she was admittedly relieved to finally have some company, someone to care for her. Her last thought before succumbing to much needed sleep was what weird parallel world she had she fallen into where her friends scorned her and her former enemy was playing nurse? But she wasn’t about to question his presence. She knew she could get better, especially now that she had someone who wanted to help her. She wasn’t sure she could do this alone. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to, not anymore.
The End