A/N: Betad by dawnofme and Mabel Marsters. Thank you!

And thank you everyone that is kind enough to let me know you like. You guys are the best! :)





Look at how pretty the banner is! Xaphania made it.


Chapter 35


Spike let the woman’s wrist slip out of his grasp and rose to his feet. From the horrified look on Buffy’s face he knew he should feel guilty about his actions. But how could he? Feeding from humans was a part of his very essence. It wasn’t just about blood. It was the hunt. The power he’d had over their life or death.


The rain continued falling down.


His vampire mask melted away and he stepped forward, aching to touch her, to make her understand. She ignored him, her eyes landing on the woman behind him, her eyes cold.


“Buffy…”


“Don’t. Not now.” She bypassed him and knelt down next to the woman, searching through the woman’s purse to find a phone. When she did, she flipped it open and called an ambulance.


“Please,” he whispered.


After she hung up, he reached out and touched her shoulder, but she shrugged him off.


“Spike, I had a really really bad day, so please just… let me process this.”


“Why are you so mad at me? I didn’t kill her, she’s still alive,” his voice trailed off. “Why won’t you look at me?”


She glanced up then, her face closed off to any emotions, but he knew her—probably better than anyone else—and saw what she tried so hard to hide. Betrayal. But why? He let the woman live, he did the best he could.


“I can’t believe you did this. I can’t believe that I was about to tell you… Would you have killed her if I didn’t happen to come by?”


“No! I would never… I know you wouldn’t like it.”


“So that’s the only reason, right? Because I wouldn’t like it? Do you even realize how wrong that is?”


“But I didn’t kill her! Do you know how hard it is to not do that? Can you even imagine how difficult it is to stop?” He was getting angry now, because anger was better than the hurt he could feel creeping up his chest and digging deep. “You know what I am! You saw me drink—”


“From a mug! I just… I don’t know if I can deal with this right now.”


Drinking bagged blood long term never really occurred to him because the demon inside demanded more, and he wasn’t sure he had enough self control to not lose his temper and go on a killing spree. It wasn’t enough to quell the deeply ingrained urges, and he couldn’t simply switch them off and stop. It was an addiction he couldn’t cure.


The sirens of an approaching ambulance tore through the thickening tension between them. Buffy stood up, avoiding his eyes. The raindrops fell down more frequently now, but not enough to wash away his sins.


“You better go. They shouldn’t see you here… not with blood on your face.”


He wiped at his chin then tried one last time to make her see. “Buffy, please… I-”


“Just go, Spike.”


“Will you come to see me so we can talk about it?” He hated how weak his voice was, but what he hated even more was that he’d managed to hurt Buffy.


She stared at him, her eyes shining with tears even the rain couldn’t conceal before she turned away. “I don’t know.”


The sirens stopped, and he could hear the approaching steps of paramedics. He sent her one last pleading glance that she didn’t see, and ran. All the way to his apartment, he could feel his heart breaking.


*******


Spike only got as far as the couch in the living room before he collapsed in front of it, pressing his face into the cushions to muffle his scream. The way she looked at him was forever burned into his retinas, would always haunt him when he closed his eyes.


If only he could turn back time and be the man she wanted him to be. The man she could love because his hands hadn’t been stained by blood of those she was sworn to protect.


'She hates me. My Buffy hates me, and now I lost the only friend I’ve ever had.'


He was nothing without her.


With far too much effort, Spike picked himself up and headed to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and cupped his hands under the stream before splashing his face with the cold water. It trickled down his skin, staining the white porcelain with the proof of his monstrosity.


He lifted his gaze and stared at the mirror in front of his face. The face that wasn’t reflected there.


*******


He had no idea how long he’d been aimlessly wandering around the apartment, small knick-knacks and empty alcohol bottles falling victim to his frustration and hurt as he hurled them against the floor or a wall. But it was in the exact same second when he stepped onto a shattered piece of glass with his bare foot that the bell rang.


In his haste to hop to the intercom, Spike almost tripped over his own feet. As he pushed the button to let the person in, he tried to ignore the way his tongue felt like alcohol soaked cotton in his mouth.


All too soon, someone was knocking on his door and he flung it open, staggering in the process. Before he could fall flat on his ass, the visitor grasped his forearm and steadied him.


Spike lifted his bloodshot gaze to take in her face.


“Can I come in?” Buffy asked, and he stepped aside to give her room to get by.


He closed the door behind, all the while trying to suppress the urge to cry and beg.


“Buffy...” he started with a shaking voice and closed his fingers around her upper arm to turn her towards him.


“I wanted to talk, but now I’m starting to think it was a bad idea.”


“Don’t go!”


Buffy took a glimpse of his face, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears, and she couldn’t do anything else but stay. Seeing him like that had shocked her. Spike was a vampire, she knew that, but witnessing the extent of the demon within was something entirely different. He wasn’t just William with an incurable disease or just the demon with William’s memories. He was both. And if she couldn’t accept everything he was, then it wouldn’t be fair to either of them.


“Okay, I won’t. But only because we need to figure this out.”


He let out a relieved breath, as if she’d just lifted the weight of the world off his shoulders with one decision. Empty liquor bottles littered the floor, one clanking against another as her foot bumped into it. She studied Spike’s face, finally noticing his drunken state.


He leaned in and nuzzled her neck, shaking, and her hands itched to rake through his hair. Instead she stepped back. They needed to talk but the way he stared at her, the corners of his eyes tightened with hurt, rooted her to the spot.


“You hate me,” he whispered and collapsed to his knees.


Before she could say anything in reply, his arms banded around her thighs and he buried his face in her stomach. How could he make everything all right again?


“I’m s-sorry. So sorry.”


Buffy knelt down next to him and pulled him closer into her embrace. “I don’t hate you. I… I couldn’t.”


His eyes widened barely contained hope as he trembled and buried his face into her shoulder, his hold on her tightening.


“Stay here tonight?”


She shouldn’t. It was a really bad idea. She should be angry and disgusted, finally realizing the things he was capable of. And if it weren’t for the neat puncture marks on the woman’s wrist instead of tears in her throat, she might have believed he only stopped because she stumbled across him. But even then, would she be able to deny what she felt for him?


Spike gazed up at her with eyes full of hope.


“Maybe… Just for a little while.”


He nodded and let out a relieved breath.


She pressed her cheek against his and her gaze landed on his upturned feet. As soon as she glimpsed the blood seeping from around the embedded pieces of glass, she gasped and leaned away.


“What’s wrong?”


“Your feet are bleeding. Can’t I leave you for one second without you getting into trouble?”


Spike furrowed his brows and sat back, looking at the cuts. “I forgot.”


She sighed and took his hand before she stood up. When his feet encountered the floor, he winced but followed her precariously into the living room.


“Sit,” Buffy said.


He did.


“Where’s the bathroom?”


Spike pointed to the left. In a couple of minutes Buffy was kneeling before him and lifting his foot to pull the pieces of glass out She could feel his stare burning into her, probably wondering what she was doing. If only she knew as she prompted him to sink his feet into the basin full of warm water.


So many differences between them, so many reasons why this shouldn’t be happening but still, Buffy watched the water tint with pink before she lifted his feet up and encased them in a soft towel.


“You didn’t have to do that,” he said.


She shrugged, uncomfortable to be under such a close scrutiny, the open expression of his face. “I know, but…”


“Does this mean you… forgive me?”


She stood up and sat next to him but left a distance so she could focus. Then she directed her stare at him. “I don’t know. Maybe. You’re just so… I don’t know where I stand with you. One moment you’re all sweet and exactly like my William, and then you’re-”


“A monster.”


She shook her head and said in a soft voice, “No, you’re not. You’re just different. I know you’re still William at the core, but you’ve changed. So have I. And I don’t know how we fit into each other’s lives… what with being natural enemies.”


“You’re scared.”


“No!” She sighed. “Yes. A little.”


“You don’t have to be, Buffy. I screwed up, but I won’t again. Just tell me what it is what you want from me. You want me to stop feeding? I’ll do that. I’d do anything to… I’d do anything. Whatever it takes.”


“If I asked you to stop feeding on people, you’d do that?”


“Yeah. I’m not saying it’ll be easy. Bloody hard actually, but if that’s what you want…”


“But you don’t want to.”


“I want you. And if that means making a sacrifice, then that’s all I need to know.”


“But you can’t just… you can’t build your existence around me. I don’t want you to make this decision and then one day… poof, you’ll come to hate me for it.”


Spike chuckled bitterly. “Luv, I could never hate you. Things would be so much easier if I could.”


“Well, you can’t always have everything.”


“You’re my everything. Don’t you get it?”


Buffy glanced away from him and stared at her hands folded in her lap instead.


“I’m sorry if that scares you,” he said.


“Spike… tell me, if I was dead, if I’d hadn’t survived or if I died tomorro-”


“No! Don’t even say it.” His eyes were bright with torment as he shakily inhaled.


Buffy tried to ignore it even though her own heart lurched in her chest and went on. “If I wasn’t here… would you stop feeding from people?”


“I wish I could say no, but… I don’t know. I’d try not to, for your sake, but sometimes the urge is stronger than me. I do have control over my demon, don’t get me wrong, but I’m still a young vampire. Old ones have better control over themselves... not that they use it, usually.”


“I know I can’t understand, but… maybe you could explain it to me. I want to understand. I need to.”


Spike collapsed against the back of the couch and rubbed at his eyes. “It’s like… it’s like an itch that keeps nagging and nagging until you scratch it. An impulse. It’s not just about feeding. It’s about the power, the control, feeling them struggle as I… the demon inside me feeds off it.”


Buffy thought about the way she felt when she was slaying. The rush. The lust for the demons’ blood. And then she imagined what it would be like if she just… stopped. If she kept the Slayer part in her locked away with the key dangling in front of her face.


“If you… if I said you could feed-” His head jerked up as he stared at her incredulously, and she forced herself to finish her thought. “But only from the bad guys and you could not kill them… would you do it?”


“Buffy… my God. Are you sure? I don’t want you to regret it. Yeah, of course I’d do it. But I could get used to bagged blood, I really could, if you wanted me to.”


“I don’t want to change who you are. Loving someone means accepting who they are, the good and the bad.”


As soon as the word ‘loving’ passed her lips, his eyes widened.


*******


On the other side of the town, Faith gasped and jerked awake. Blinding pain rushed through her veins and concentrated right in her heart before black dots swarmed her vision. The machine monitoring her vitals beeped as the straight red line appeared on the screen.


Faith’s heart had stopped.


TBC


A/N: I really should stop being so mean. All I can say is, trust me.