Title: The Spectre Of Dead Things
Author: Luisa
Email: luisa_barros@hotmail.com
Rating: PG
Description: Third part of the Devastation trilogy.
Dedication: To Jennifer once again, because she's my first publisher and I love her. ;-)
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all.
Note: Not that itīs vital, but think S3.

I.


Life goes on. Even when you're not sure how...Willow's eyes followed people's movements, she could hear them speak, watch dark clouds hovering in the sky. Her body still worked and her mind still harbored thoughts that kept haunting her like the spectre of things dead. She got out of bed every morning and took a deep breath that got her through the day and was slowly exhaled late in the evening. Another day...she was a day older. Not that it made any difference...she didn't feel wiser nor happier. Her suffering didn't diminish one bit with the passing of a day. She'd learnt to live with it and she was grateful that it didn't make her cry because tears were useless.

Her work was coming along well, she kept getting As in everything there was to excel at and she managed to fool Xander and Buffy with her flimsy smiles and abrupt changes of subject. Xander had been suspicious for a while but he refused to barge in on her privacy, so he never talked about that day. He didn't know what had happened afterwards.

Sunnydale was the perfect place to be afraid in. Her hometown was a hole of horror. People went around with their eyes closed, refusing to see the writing on the wall. Demonic shadows were ignored, unexplained deaths went unmentioned. The newspaper was a sham. It reported the lies of the police, the lies of the Mayor and the lies of the eyewitnesses. Sunnydale bought it and swallowed it, not commenting on the taste. A town adrift in its own stupidity...

To Willow this had become more apparent in the course of things. She'd learned to notice the disguises and the masks and rip them off inside her mind. She'd been appalled at Sunnydale's excuses at first, but it soon dawned on her that it was all part of a cold-blooded plot to hide facts. What terrifies you doesn't exist if you don't mention it.

Talk about it and it'll come back and get you, like a monster under your bed.

The thing was, the monster in Willow's life refused to be smothered. It wouldn't be ignored, it wouldn't go unmentioned. At least not by her. She was forced to mention it to herself every other day, as if someone were viciously dragging it out of her. And as the words materialized somewhere in her head, so did the fear and the shame. They were as real and as solid as any object in her house. Feed them and they'll grow bigger than you.

So she kept going out with her friends, living by herself while her parents were away, letting appearances remain intact. She trembled in her bed at night and asked the darkness for mercy, only to realize it was all her own doing. < It doesn't have to be like this... > But her pride wouldn't let her back down. She'd lead a normal life if it killed her. It was likely that it would.


II.


Alone again and it was already dark. It was a pleasant night to be out on. Gentle breeze, the scent of flowers and grass, the stars blinking at her from the stately, infinite heavens...Willow could still feel it...the feeling of pain that comes with being keenly aware of the world's beauty. She felt like she was the only ugly thing in the universe and the impression ran through her soul, almost like his fangs had...Willow suddenly stopped and closed her eyes. She wished with all her heart that Buffy were next to her, chatting happily on some innocent topic...making her laugh. She had left her friend at the school, being reprimanded by Mr. Kramer on her inability to concentrate. Buffy had looked helpless and bored and while Mr. Kramer's back was turned to her, she'd placed a stake and a tiny bottle of holy water into Willow's hands. "Walk fast and be careful.", she whispered. To Willow this meant that her friend wanted her to go home. She knew Buffy didn't like being lectured when others were around to hear it, so she nodded and left, unable to confess that she didnīt want to be alone.

It enraged Willow that she should be afraid on an evening like this. It was barely six o'clock, the sun had just set and all was quiet. Her feelings should've been light-hearted and soothing. Instead they were violent and hurtful. She was burning inside with she knew not what. Anger, revulsion, fear, sorrow... Her feet didn't walk fast enough while her mind speeded unwaveringly, making her dizzy.

She didn't notice that she was being followed. By someone not particularly careful in making his presence unfelt. Someone who suddenly lunged at her as she was about to cross the road. A heavy frame fell on her, knocking the breath out of her lungs. No cry was uttered because she lacked air. Pain hit her as her body slammed on the ground, bruising and scratching itself.

A greedy voice grated her ears. "So you're the redhead Spike's been having fun with..."

The sentence had her swiftly turn her head and look into a pair of glittery black eyes that seemed about to swallow her whole. A hungry minion, probably tired of being bossed around...should she plead with him? What was the point? She could feel herself becoming self-destructive and the feeling thrilled her. A reckless smile graced her lips as she gazed into the minion's eager features. She laughed a little in a childlike way.

"Go ahead." Her voice was quiet and toneless and so was her heart.

Life was a gift that she was returning. It didn't matter to her one way or the other. Her soul was still with indifference and her body frozen up. Wide green eyes left the vampire's face and travelled to the sky. She wanted to be up there with the stars, one among many...and he was taking too long. She'd cry if he didn't hurry up, so she turned her gaze towards him and arched her eyebrows tauntingly.

"Well?" The minion looked dumbfounded for a second. She seemed unearthly. As if from another dimension. The impression left him paralysed, making it hard for his instincts to focus on what he wanted to do. His face reluctantly shifted to that of a monster. Willow didn't even blink. Melancholy flooded her skin, making it glow whitely in the dusky afternoon. She was prepared to leave but it hurt to have time to think about it. Xander's smiling face flashed through her mind, making her eyes glisten with tears. She loved him, she always had.

Happiness was in her reach whenever he was around. Xander was free but he didn't know it. Sheīd never got the chance to tell him. She never would now. Buffy. Her dearest breakable friend...she'd miss her terribly and she knew Buffy'd miss her. The Slayer needed her in a way that no one else did. She relied upon Willow to keep her normal, feet firmly on the ground and Willow was leaving her lost in a world of jagged ruins. Tears escaped her eyes and fell on the sidewalk. Silent crying.

The minion finally finished morphing and moved towards the kill. His fangs broke the skin and buried themselves on her throat, but he didn't have time to devour. His weight was suddenly gone from off her body. As Willow opened her eyes, she saw a dark, leather-clad figure brutally shove it against a fence, causing it to break. Another monster...a familiar one, this time.

Holding her hand to the holes in her neck, she felt hot blood ooze out of them. She sat up slowly and distractedly looked at her hand covered in the fluid, feeling cold. She stared at the two fighting vampires. One of them was losing and it wasn't Spike. The vampire was taking his revenge on the luckless minion. In the most violent way possible. Punching and kicking until the victim almost disintegrated under his feet. He was possessed with something mad that wouldn't let him call it a night.

Willow couldn't bear to watch. She silently got up and stumbled away. Her head hurt and she couldn't see where she was going. Legs were covered in dust and scratches, blood swelling up from them. She had to stop several times and breathe. The sounds of destruction poured into her ears. After a while she had to shut her mind against them.

As she unseeingly crossed a street, she didn't notice a car turning the corner and speeding towards her. Four boys sat in it, bottles of beer in their hands. The driver was being persuaded to have some, but he impatiently slapped away an arm that kept hovering in front of his face and turned his head to shout something angry at his friend.

Headlights came flooding her way and she stopped. Was it a dream...would she wake up as the car hit her body? She never found out. One sudden shove and she felt herself land on the other side of the street followed by a figure who wavered a little but remained standing. She was safe.


III.


Silence was all that could be heard. No birds, no wind, no people. Willow was sitting up again, more dead than alive. Her whole frame trembled with reaction to what had happened. She didn't look up not even when she felt a hand slide on her head and press it to a leather-clad knee. The hand was moving, hesitantly stroking her hair as if unsure of what it was doing. She gradually calmed down, letting her head rest against his knee and closing her eyes. When the hand stopped, she opened them again. Spike was sitting next to her, coolly smoking a cigarette. Blue smoke floated between them as the breath of some unseen spirit. Willow gazed at it, open once more to appealing images. She didn't feel a pair of eyes fixed on her cheek and almost didn't react when ice-cold fingers touched her on the throat.

"That bloody son of a bitch..."

The words startled Willow and she quickly drew her eyes to him in a frightened reaction. He was frowning at her neck, steering his fingers over the gash. She winced and he calmly withdrew his hand.

"You're gonna need something.", he said. Her mind flew to their last meeting and dwelt there in morbid fascination.

"Red!" Sharply, he called her back to the present. Dazed green eyes stared at him until he spoke again. "It's over, pet. You're alive. And your neck needs seeing to."

He was stating the facts as clearly as possible, voice emotionless. She suddenly felt herself smiling, but it wasn't a happy smile.

"Are you afraid I'll bleed to death?"

He took a drag from the cigarette and looked at her, something dark in his eyes.

"Aren't you?"

This made glance up at the stars.

"No." Her voice didn't waver. Willow smoothed the hair back from her face and wrapped her arms around her front.

"I am.", he firmly tossed back and at that instant she knew he could barely believe himself.

"Why? It didn't bother you much the first time! I'm just a meal...leftovers, actually, since you've already had your fill!" Bitterness flooded her tone like a surface of ice.

"I haven't." He was dismissing her. Her eyes flew to his face in sheer disbelief.

"What?" Anger.

"You heard me." A faint tinge of aggressiveness crept into his voice.

"Yes, but I don't believe you and I never will."

"You donīt have a choice...pet." The term was stressed. In warning.

"Because you still want my blood?!?" Her voice rose in helpless desperation.

"Because I still want you, alive and whole." He got up and grabbed her wrist. As they walked towards Willow's house, Spike suddenly reached inside his duster and took out a flask, giving it to her. "Drink this."

The idea didn't appeal to Willow. She gave him a hostile look.

"What is it? Someone's blood?"

"Scotch.", he snapped back, glaring at her. The chit was pushing it.

Willow grimaced and took a sip from the bottle, choking on the metallic liquid. Coughing a few times, she handed it back to him. He was studying her. Again. She needed to divert the scrutiny somehow. "Your taste in drinks leaves a lot to be desired...", she said slowly. His lips twisted in a half-hearted smirk.

"So does my taste in women, according to some." She looked away.

"The minion didn't think so." His face changed, becoming as dark as thunder. He clutched her wrist more tightly, forcing her to look at him.

"Forget about him. He's dust."

This silenced her. As they approached the house, the truth finally hit her. Willow gazed at Spikeīs clear-cut profile under the streetlights. He wasnīt going anywhere...she was alone. With him.

THE END