full 3/4 1/2   skin light dark       
 
Rebellion by Thianna
 
19 - Your Fault
 
<<     >>
 
Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain.

**

Chapter 19 - Your Fault

Spike woke up to a warm hand on his forehead and the smell of blood and vanilla in the air. He opened his eyes slowly, pulling himself up to a sitting position. The bruises and cuts were long gone but his ribs still needed a little more time to completely heal.

“Hey sleepyhead.” she said as she unceremoniously shoved a large mug of blood in front of him.

He sniffed it tentatively and smiled when he smelt human instead of pig. “Thanks, love. Uhm ... not to be ungrateful but how have you been getting this stuff?"

"I got some help from Willy."

"Don't tell me you've been going there on your own."

"No need to worry. I went during the day. Now go drink up."

“That doesn’t mean … “

“Drink!” she commanded.

She watched him silently as he happily consumed the drink, his face shifting as he licked the rim of the mug clean. He let the blood warm him, his eyes closed savoring the taste on his tongue. He felt the wind move slightly near his face, feeling her fingers reach out to caress the ridges on his brow, trailing a path down his cheek to his lips. She brushed her index finger against his lower lip, pooling what little blood was left there onto her finger. Spike opened his yellow eyes in wonder as to what she was doing when he saw her look at her finger mesmerized then put the blood on her tongue. He felt a shiver run through him as his eyes focused on the blood that she painted on her tongue. He didn’t even notice that he growled until Buffy looked at him embarrassed at being caught.

She stood up quickly, obviously flustered “Just curious,” she said trying to sound casual.

He watched her intently, following her with his gaze as she busied herself tidying up his room.

It had been a little over a week now since the incident outside the Bronze. They didn’t seem to say much to each other lately and Spike hated not knowing what was going on in her mind. But it wasn’t her fault really. He had been a stupid git as she nursed him.


(...flashback ...)

He was angry and irritated. Angelus was right. He had lost Dru forever. He had hurt her. He had hurt his Dark Princess. He had bared his claws and fangs in anger, struck her and spat in her face and he did it to get to Buffy. He felt a brief moment of joy having Dru beside him, holding him up as she planted sweet kisses on his face, but then she whispered riddles in his ear.

“You smell of sunshine, but sunshine burns. William has been a naughty boy and Miss Edith doesn’t like naughty boys. Daddy says we can play again, but you smell like sunshine. Can we play William? Can we play when Daddy’s away?”

He could smell it, Angelus looming all around him with Dru beside him and Darla a few paces from him. He could smell his grandsire on his beloved and it sickened him. He pushed her away, not wanting the scent mocking him. But everywhere he turned he was there. He saw Buffy fall and struggle against his grandsire and without thinking, his demon burst forth again, clawing at those in his way to get to Buffy.

When Buffy offered herself to him that night, he hissed at her and threw her against the wall, the smell of his grandsire evident. She left his room without a word but he could hear the silent sobs as she drifted off to sleep in her room.

For the next few days, the events at the Bronze would replay in his mind and he cursed himself for being so foolish. Dru was lost to him and he hated himself for it. He shouldn’t have left, should have swallowed his pride and waited for her to return to him. He should have left Buffy or turned her not take care of her and protect her. It was all her fault, her blood. She is the Slayer, he should have killed her. And because of her, the Bronze happened and now Dru’s gone.

That conclusion ran over and over in his head so much so that when Buffy would come each night to check up on him, to bring him blood he would growl at her. He would take the blood she offered gingerly gulping it down quickly without a word. When she’d come nearer to see how he was healing, he’d push her aside, barring fangs and hissing angrily. Until one night he refused the mug she offered him and as she set it on the bedside table, he grabbed her hair and pulled her roughly on the bed. The look of shock on her face fed his demon as it came out. But the shock soon faded and he saw concern and pity in her eyes. He didn’t want that. Why did she feel so much for him? He backhanded her cheek, ignoring the pain as his still mending ribs shifted. She wasn’t suppose to care. She was suppose to fear him, hate him, anything but care. Only Dru cared, only Dru gave … could give him that look and he hated it.

It was the Slayer’s fault, changing him, making him protect her. He sank his fangs roughly into her neck. He wanted to drain her. He wanted to punish her for making him feel. He bit deeper and pulled on her blood but then he felt her arms around him. He could feel her wince in pain, and her muscles tensing underneath him, but she cooed in his ear.

“It’s alright Spike. I know it hurts.” she said soothingly and it enraged him.

He retracted his fangs from her neck and glared at her with angry yellow eyes. She moved her left hand to caress his face gently and he growled loudly, fangs snapping for her wrist to make her stop touching him. She moved her hand but his fang scrapped the side of her palm. She closed her eyes as the cut registered in her brain. He growled again then lowered his head and bit her ferociously in a different spot.

“Shhh.” she said now, her right hand was playing with the curls in his hair. “Shhh. ... Let it go Spike. I’m here.” she said planting a soft kiss on his ear. “ I’m here, please get better.”

Why? Why did she care so much? A part of him wanted to listen to her, to savor the taste of her blood on his tongue and melt in her warming embrace. But his demon was angry at this woman that was changing him … seducing him … breaking him. It would be easy to kill her. He was already so close, but the feel of her fingers on his neck told him that this was different from the others he had killed.

There was no fear, no anger, no resignation that death was knocking nor was there that sigh of relief that her torment as a Slayer would be over. He knew of a Slayer’s death wish and he’d seen Buffy have one before she was called. This wasn’t it. As she moved to plant a soft kiss on his forehead, the demon inside him withdrew. Whether it was because it was satisfied with her blood or curious with her actions, he didn’t know. He pulled back and with deep blue eyes saw the damage he had inflicted.

She laid quietly on the bed, the sheets a mess and smeared in certain places with her blood. Her blond hair in curls, fanned out seductively where she lay as her chest heaved up and down and she looked at him with her green eyes. She was beautiful and something inside him ached for attempting to destroy it. He bent down to lick her wounds closed and as he looked upon her again, she smiled up at him, squeezing his hand gently before getting on her feet. She placed one hand on his forehead, gently letting a few fingers play with his curls then she left the room. She said nothing and she didn’t have to. He saw it all in her eyes.

He thought for sure that she would hate him now. Or worse, maybe lose the trust they had unknowingly built between them. But her eyes said it all. She cared for him still. He lashed out at her in anger and it didn't matter.

He looked at the spot where she had been, her scent and blood still fresh in his mind and he hated himself.

(...end of flashback ...)



And here they were. Neither brought up the incident that happened not too long ago. Spike felt ashamed of what he had done, though he never fully understood why. His demon didn’t care. She was the reason for his torment and he wanted to lash out at her. But a part of him answered to her gentle words and kisses Illusions he told her so many times, so why did he care that he hurt her?

“How’s the wanker?”, he said trying to break the silence in the room.

She turned to face him, plopping down on a chair and sighing, “More books, more lectures, more blah,” she said sticking her tongue out. “Between his lectures on demon body parts and the zoo, I think I have too much anatomy swimming in my brain.” Buffy got a job in the Sunnydale Zoo. It was the perfect match. She started at the bottom of course, but a little episode with some of the jungle cats got her a better position feeding the pussycats who seemed to like her, after she showed them who was boss of course.

Spike resisted the urge to follow up her last comment with an innuendo. He let his eyes wander to the thick curtains that held back the sunlight since he wasn’t really sure what else to say. It would be dark soon and he was aching to get out of bed.

“What time you going on patrol tonight?” he asked casually.

“Why, you planning on sneaking out and following me again?” she said slyly.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Need something to kill. You’ve got me cooped up. ‘sides…” he said a little softly “had to be sure you were safe.”

Buffy stood up, her hands on her hips and shaking her head. “You’re talking to the Slayer here. I can take care of myself.”

Spike raised his eyebrow in disagreement. “Slayers get killed love, I should know I killed two.”

“Yeah yeah… I’ve heard the bragging before. I’ll get cleaned up and change.” She turned towards the door, then glanced back at him wrinkling her nose. “If you’re coming, you should shower, seriously. I didn't need my Slayer senses to figure out you were following me last night.”

Spike shot her an evil stare as she headed down the hallway giggling.


***
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews so far. Fluffy stuff will be coming soon.
 
<<     >>