Spike’s Obsession by Athenewolfe

Chapter #1 - Obsession - Drabble 1 of 3

Obsession Author’s note: Season six - after Spike realizes his chip doesn’t work. ******** Blood ran down her body, coating it slick and wet; the aroma filling the air. She was a work of art - his art, his work – pain, suffering, compulsion, and obsession. He hadn’t wanted it this way. He had wanted her as she was; his golden goddess, walking in the sun and bringing him into the light. But she refused to listen, refused to hear him. Ignored his constant declarations of love and devotion. They said she was his obsession… but what did they know of love? If she would have accepted him- accepted his love- they could have avoided this. He would have given anything for her, yet she rejected him still. Now she was broken. Beautiful, still, bloody, her eyes glazed over, her heartbeat faded. He would have given her anything. Raising his bleeding wrist he started the cycle again. “Drink my love. Drink and be mine for eternity.”

Chapter #2 - Spike's Madness Drabble 2 of 3

The Spark He laughed, a desperate sound, harsh and hollow. Why did the spark burn? Burned so brightly it hurt, he needed to dig it out, must get it out. Laughing, crying, begging, bleeding, make the pain go away. Solace found in the arms of the sun. He ran to her, always chasing, always following. His love, his light, his Buffy. Love, devotion, mustn’t hurt the girl. But he had. The world was harsh, the light shone, he was darkness, he must save the girl. The sparks hurt, the light hurts; she didn’t want to be here. He would save her, comfort her into the night. He kissed her, caressed her as she fought. She loved him, even with the spark but she didn’t understand. He had to save her, but he couldn’t. Not with his spark, not with her own. Blood pumping out, draining her resistance; losing the spark, pain fades. She would arise, his light; protected for another day.

Chapter #3 - A Demon's Love - Drabble 3 of 3

Desperation, obsessions, broken, beautiful, blood. She was his, only his. The Master, Angelus, Dracula – no one else mattered. They may have had a taste, a sampling of her precious blood but he had done what no other could. She would be his childe, his mate. She would be his. And it would be love.