Pairing: W/T (implied), W/S (implied
Summary: Angst, baby.
Disclaimer: Joss owns the characters, 3 Doors Down owns “when i’m gone”
Feedback: Please?
A/N: This story may not be very good, but i needed to write it, for myself.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Part: 1~
Willow stared morosely at the ritual knife in her hand. The knife was not meant to do what she used it for... but it was sharp. And it helped. The magick she could feel inside the blade cut more smoothly than any kitchen knife would ever do.
//There's another world inside of me that you
may never see.
There's secrets in this life that I can't hide.//
Her arm was crisscrossed with lines of blood from her own doing. She couldn’t seem to find anything else to ease the pain, but this. This physical expression of what she felt. She was cut up inside... ugly, bleeding... dead. Tara’s death had caused a domino effect. First, the magick. Now this. She wouldn’t allow herself the escape of a magickally induced emptiness. Tara wouldn’t have wanted that.
*But would she have wanted this?* a voice in Willow’s head called. Sighing, she wiped up the congealed blood off of her pale skin, and went to find something suitable to hide the cuts on her arm. She had to be at Giles’ soon. Technically, she should have been there over an hour ago.
Somehow she had found herself sitting on the bed where they’d made love, the knife in her hand. She’d never meant to cut herself, but she had. And the physical pain of the act helped to dull her inner anguish. It couldn’t erase the pain, but it dulled it.
//Somewhere in this darkness there's a life that
I can't find.
Maybe it's too far away or maybe I'm just blind,
maybe I'm just blind.//
~*~
“Zhorbank demons? Sounds pathetic to me,” Spike muttered, reaching across the redhead to grab another book. She sat engrossed in the book before him, and he inhaled sharply at the scent of blood. Dry blood... her blood.
“Pet,” he whispered. “Why do I smell blood?”
Willow’s eyes grew large at the sound of his whisper. “W-What?”
“Blood. I smell it. And it’s yours.”
“Uh... I... cut myself shaving?” Willow was never a very good liar.
“Come outside with me. We need to talk.”
“No.”
“Yes. Or do you want me to tell your little friends about the smell of dried blood?” Spike’s voice was a low growl.
Buffy’s voice cut the conversation off abruptly, “I think I found something else, guys. It says here that the Zhorbank demon cannot be killed in combat, as it’s body is regenerative. But that... it’s power source is an outside object. Usually a lesser demon who...”
Giles took the book from the Slayer, skimming the material. “Yes well, perhaps y-you and Spike should patrol. See if you find anything to confirm this.”
Spike cursed to himself. He didn’t want to tell the Scoobies about Willow, but he needed to know why she smelled like blood.
“Spike can check Willie’s and some of the crypts around there, I’ll do a routine patrol and stop by the Bronze. Maybe he’s hunting there,” Buffy threw her jacket over her shoulders, grabbing a crossbow. “Come on, Spike.”
With one last look at the pale redhead, Spike stalked out the door.
~*~
//So hold me when I'm here right me when I'm wrong.
Hold me when I'm scared and love me when I'm
gone.
Everything I am and everything in me
Wants to be the one you wanted me to be.
I'll never let you down even if I could.
I'd give up everything if only for your good.//
~Part: 2~
//So hold me when I'm here right me when I'm wrong.
Hold me when I'm scared and love me when I'm
gone.
Everything I am and everything in me
Wants to be the one you wanted me to be.
I'll never let you down even if I could.
I'd give up everything if only for your good.//
~*~
Willow knew Spike was near. She could feel him. She didn’t dare take out the knife again, or expose her wounds. Instead she sat stiffly at her computer, editing a Psyche paper on depression. How ironic.
//So hold me when I'm here right me when I'm wrong.
You can hold me when I'm scared but you won't
always be there,
So love me when I'm gone, love me when I'm gone//
As she was typing her injured arm bumped the desk, and she gasped quietly. Looking quickly out the window she headed into Buffy’s bathroom, looking at her arm. One of the deeper cuts had re-opened, and was bleeding. Sighing, she began to clean and dress the wounds. It just wouldn't do if anyone found out about them-- they’d start looking at her like *that* again. Like she was fragile, and insane. The same way they’d looked at her when she’d first given up magick.
Opening the bathroom door she quickly shut it once more. Spike was leaning against her bedroom door.
*Oh goddess, what do I do?* Willow thought to herself, knowing that answers would not be forthcoming. Her gods would look down on her for this weakness. They hadn’t spoken to her since she tried to end the world. It was lonely.
“Open up, red, or I’ll open the door for you.” Spike’s voice penetrated her thoughts.
Sighing, she opened the door and faced him. “What?”
//When your education x-ray cannot see under my skin.//
“What’s wrong with you, Willow?” Spike asked, his eyes cloudy and unreadable.
“Nothing. Any luck with the demon?” Willow tried changing the subject.
“That’s a lie. But yes, the demon has been killed,” Spike grabbed one of Willow’s wrists. “Don’t lie to me, red.”
Willow bit her lip as she felt his grip tighten on her wounds. He looked at her arm in comprehension, before dragging her into the bedroom. Pulling up her sleeve and removing the bandages, he hissed. This wasn’t like the red he knew, or thought he knew. She was strong, full of fire, full of life. Ever since her witch had died she’d never been the same.
“Is it because of the witch?” he looked up into her glassy eyes. She looked about ready to break down.
//I won't tell you a damn thing that I could not tell my friends.//
“What makes you think I’d trust you with my secrets? I don’t even trust Buffy with them!” She frowned, lip trembling. Her voice didn’t shake, to her credit.
“Call me a poof, but I don’t like seeing this side of you. You’re strong-- so much stronger than this. The magick- I understand why you did that. I would’ve. But this? If you needed help, you’ve got people around you who care more about you than you’ll ever know. How do you think Buffy would feel to know that you have lost touch with her so much that you can’t even talk to her? Or Xander, who you’ve known since you were in pigtails?” The last was said with a bit of irony, as Willow’s hair was in pigtails.
“Spike, it’s not... it’s not that simple. I just couldn’t bear for them to--” Willow’s voice broke and she turned from him.
“Pet, I’m not very good at this... but I can listen. I might not understand exactly, and I don’t do this often... but I’ve been hurt before too.” Spike turned the redhead towards him once again, looking deeply into her pain-filled green eyes.
“I know you have, Spike. And look what you did... you got drunk, and threatened people. I’m just threatening myself now. Isn’t that better than putting other people at risk for me?”
//Now roaming through this darkness I'm alive
but I'm alone.
Part of me is fighting this but part of me is
gone.//
Spike pulled the redhead into his arms.
//So hold me when I'm here right me when I'm wrong.
Hold me when I'm scared and love me when I'm
gone.//
~Part: 3~
Three weeks had passed since Spike had caught Willow cutting herself. In that time she’d only relapsed once, but she still picked the scabs... just to bleed. They’d formed a tentative friendship, and she’d begun to truly let him in. At night he slept beside her, she said it helped her feel less alone. She liked knowing that he was there when she needed him.
Spike closed his eyes as the hot water from the shower cascaded down his back. When had he turned into such a poof? He couldn’t remember. But with Willow... he didn’t want to see her fire die out. It had been much too bright.
He didn’t understand the feelings he had for this little slip of a girl. Something about her got to him, though. Got to William. Underneath his cool, detached manner lay a man who’d somehow managed to escape death. The demon couldn’t suppress his human side fully, and had one day just given up. Demon and man had mutual respect for eachother. If Spike admitted it to himself, it wasn’t just the man who liked Red. The demon wanted her too. Not as a friend, or someone to help-- but as a lover, maybe even a mate. As someone to rule beside him, the master he knew he‘d never be again.
Turning the water off, Spike towelled himself off before heading into Willow’s bedroom. Seeing that she was asleep, he changed and climbed into bed behind her. A soft smile came to his lips as she turned over in her sleep to wrap her arms around him. She needed him.
//Everything I am and everything in me.
Wants to be the one you wanted me to be,//
~Part: 4~
Willow looked down at her hands nervously. Spike sat patiently next to her. Looking at her with his deep, concerned, azure eyes.
“Spike, I’m really scared. I don’t know what’s going on inside of me, but all I know is... when your gone I don’t know if I can help from cutting myself again. But it’s okay when you’re around me. It’s like, I’m not so alone. I don’t want you to leave. Ever. And... I’m confused. You’ve never been this nice to me, or-- or to any of my friends. I don’t want to care about you, trust you, when I don’t even know why you take the time.”
“Pet, I don’t quite understand why I want to take care of you. Or why I feel an urge to earn your trust. But I do. I care about you, much as I’m shamed to admit it. Both the demon and the man in me care for you. In different ways, but-- I don’t want to leave you. You’ve got this amazing fire in you, and it was dying out. It broke me to see that. I’ll do anything to stop it.”
//I’ll never let you down even if I could.
I'd give up everything if only for your good.//
~*~
Willow woke up to an empty bed. Where was Spike? She panicked. What if he’d been lying, didn’t want to see her cry-- but was uncomfortable with everything she’d told him. Thank the goddess she didn’t reveal that she thought she may be falling in love with him. Willow’s thoughts were interrupted when Spike entered the room, and in her head all was quiet.
He came bearing gifts, scrambled eggs and toast. And orange juice.
“You okay, ducks?” he smiled down at Willow, who looked so happy to see him he almost wanted to cry.
“Spike. I think I love you,” she breathed.
//So hold me when I'm here right me when I'm wrong
You can hold me when I'm scared, you won't always
be there,
So love me when I'm gone.
(Maybe I'm just blind)//
Spike’s jaw dropped along with the glass of orange juice. He managed to keep his grip on the plate, but not without difficulty. He was floored. What? Did she just say... she did. And now her eyes began to fill with salty tears at his lack of reaction. Setting the plate down he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.
“I think I could love you, too. But let’s help you heal before we go down that road. Is that okay?”
“I think that’s fine,” she smiled a watery smile up at him. “One thing, though. Promise me that you’ll never leave me?”
“I promise.”
--End--