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Dreams to Dust by maharini
 
Prologue
 
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Disclaimer: Don't own it. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters and ideas are the property of Joss Whedon. This is just for fun.

Notes: This is based off of challenge 234 at the bloodshedverse. Lyrics: Everything by Lifehouse.

Dreams to Dust

Prologue

Find Me Here
Speak To Me
I want to feel you
I need to hear you
You are the light
That's leading me
To the place where I find peace again.
“Everything” - by Lifehouse



Spike clenched his jaw as he made his way through the thick, never ending forest. His movements were slow as he carefully walked through the tangle of wood that made up the trees and forest floor. It wouldn’t do him much good to be dusted by a stray branch in the heart.


Bleeding waste.


He must have a death wish.


He didn’t much care either. That night, he had gone to bed in a rage of fury after Drusilla had left the bedroom singing praises about her precious Daddy. The hand through the wall hadn’t been much help. He could do well with diving heart first onto to a stake rather than listen to her piddle on about the large foreheaded poof. Bloody annoying that, having to listen to her adore another man. All he did for her, all the love he had given her and she still barely gave him a second glance.


Besides he abandoned them. Spike and Dru didn’t need Angelus, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve the likes of them.


Not that it changed anything. A hundred plus years of devoting his entire existence to his sire, his Dark Princess, and she still didn’t seem to care even a tiny smidge about him. It was bloody unfair is what it was. Not even a sodding thank you, just a nice song about Angelus and how precious he is.


He was sick of being love’s bitch. Sick of giving her his heart only to have it shoved in his face every possible second. He had nothing left to give her, she had stomped on it too many times. He was through, exhausted.


Spike snapped a branch sticking out in the middle of the almost non-existent path. This forest of a maze was infuriating him, and mixing that said frustration with his anger for Drusilla was doing nothing for his mood. He imagined the wood to be a nice, juicy neck. Perhaps Angelus being snapped into a big pile of dust, a pleasant thought if there ever was one.


He was in a really sour mood.


The fact that he hadn’t a clue where he was, wasn’t helping. Nor was this death trap disguised as a forest.


He stopped and took the time to sniff the air, using his enhanced senses to detect anything that might be some sort of clue. The scent hit his nose almost instantly. The smell of tears and vanilla.


It provided a goal, and his frustration slowly turned into curiosity as his feet led him to where he wanted to go. He felt something tugging at his stomach, pulling him forward in the direction he needed to go. It was strong, he was surprised that he hadn’t felt it before. The demon clawed at his chest. It meant only one thing.


He moved faster.


He had nothing left to lose, and almost everything to gain.


***


He had pushed and shoved, the branches snapping against him with little effort. Seconds turned to minutes but finally Spike found himself at the edge of the thick line of trees, and at the start of a grassy circle, trees lining the outside, dandelions popping up in random places. In the middle kneeled a girl.


He had reached his goal. A tiny slip of a girl who couldn’t be more than sixteen, shaking as she cried away her fears and inner demons. She was beautiful.


And she was in pain.


He couldn’t not go to her.


“What’s wrong, luv?”


Spike pushed her hair behind her ear before quickly snapping his hand back as he realized what he was doing. As much as he wanted to keep his Big Bad persona, he wanted more to comfort the girl in front of him. A human, a girl that he didn’t know. Bleedin’ dream. He was losing his touch, he was. Should be ripping her to shreds and basking in her blood as it poured past his lips. He shouldn’t have to think about it, it was simply a part of his nature. But instead his hand moved to rub comforting circles on her back, in an effort to calm her.


All had gone to hell.


Not that it mattered. He didn’t care. He’d do what he wanted and when, sod everything else.


The pull was strong.


He moved to put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to his chest. She was warm. It felt good against his skin.


Spike barely heard her whispered, “Everything,” it had been spoken so softly.


***

Her long golden locks were sprawled everywhere, damp with sweat and tears. The sweet vanilla scent of her shampoo tickled his nose as he buried his nose in her hair. It was the nicest thing he had ever had the pleasure of smelling.


Her skin was soft and warm against his cold skin. It had been years since he had felt warmth like this. He realized he missed it. Missed it dearly.


He gently caressed her arms as he whispered soothing words in her ears. She was beginning to calm, her breath was beginning to even. This was something he was used to, comforting the girl. He had spent many a nights holding Drusilla just like this as she moaned about this and that. Dru and her bloody visions.


This felt different though. With Drusilla it had been an obligation. She was his sire, responsible for creating him, how could he not help her. Spike had wanted her affection, wanted her to know, to see, how much he cared for her, what he was willing to do. And in turn he had hoped that she would give to him as much as he knew he could give to her.


She never did.


But with this girl, with this golden girl, it wasn’t like that. He needed to comfort her, needed to help her. She was hurting, and as she hurt, a part of him did as well. It was wrong, but it was what he felt.


***


At long last her tears had finally come to a stop, and he felt the ache slowly fade away. Pressing a kiss to her smooth forehead, he asked, “All better?”


“You’re cold,” she complained in a whisper. Spike shivered at the obvious reminder of what he was and of what he was doing.


“I am.”


It wasn’t long before he felt her tense in his arms. It was agony watching the emotions play out across her face. First confusion, then realization, fear, and finally anger. He dropped his arms to his sides when she decided to jump suddenly to her feet. There was no point in a struggle, he was in no mood to fight her.


He couldn’t fight her.


“You’re one of them,” she accused. Her voice was a mixture of anger and fear. “A vampire.”


She spat the word with such hatred and anger that Spike truly despised the creature that he was. For a brief moment, anyway. “Know ‘bout us then?”


“I’m the Slayer,” she said haughtily, hands at hips and acting all high and mighty. It was cute. “I kill your kind.”


Of all the things, he just had to run himself into a Slayer, comfort her, and enjoy it. That there ruined his reputation as Slayer of Slayers. “Is that right?” He replied with a sneer. “Gonna kill me then?”


He never lunged. He knew she was the Slayer and he didn’t even bother to take the first punch. The bloody thought never even crossed his mind. He just sat back, ready to defend himself if need be. It was so unlike him, he was the act first, think later type of guy. It was fighting like this that could get him killed. Recklessness, almost like he was a sodding fledgling and not a master vampire.


He was just asking for a dusting.


“Yes. Yes. Of course.” She stuttered her way through as she regained her focus. She aimed a punch at his head that he easily ducked. Then another and another. One miss after miss.


She had no fucking clue what she was doing. It was like she had never thrown a punch in her life. Caught up in the fight, he didn’t hesitate to tell her exactly that.


“Didn’t really get a chance to.”


A Slayer. Never trained, and by the look of the cry fest earlier, she had just been called. An easy kill. It was his chance to bag his third Slayer.


And yet he didn’t.


Instead the next words that came out of his mouth surprised both him and her. “Then I’m just the vamp ta teach you.”


It was official. The world was coming to an end.
 
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