Darkening of the Light
Chapter Twelve
xmlns:w="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:word"
xmlns:st1="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"
xmlns="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40">
As the sun set
outside the crypt, Buffy woke, stretching languidly against Spike. After they'd
left Kendra at the library, Spike had dragged her back home, where he'd shown
her just how much of an aphrodisiac Slayer's blood truly was.
She still ached, and
yet, it had been the best night of her life.
Buffy looked up to
see Spike smiling down at her, and she smiled back. "Good evening,
kitten," he said, his voice rumbling through her and making her tremble.
Buffy stretched
against him again, smiling as she felt him react to the closeness of her body.
"Last night was amazing," she told him as she ran her finger down his
chest.
"You won't
get any argument from me there," Spike replied with a smile.
"You finally
got your third Slayer. Feeling proud of yourself?"
"Yeah, I
am," Spike replied honestly. "Though I have found
something better than killing a Slayer."
"Oh?"
Spike's eyes
darkened with lust as he rolled her over and pinned her body beneath his.
He thrust into her
hard, making Buffy cry out in ecstasy.
*** *** ***
Willow sat in her
room, everything ready for the spell. The magic shop in Sunnydale had just
happened to have one crucial, yet rare item for the curse—an Orb of
it must've been fate that it was waiting there for her.
Her hands trembled
as she picked up the piece of paper she'd printed off with Jenny Calendar's
translation.
"Are you sure
we shouldn't tell Giles about this? I feel like he should be here to like, I
don't know, supervise or something," Cordelia said from beside
"No, I don't
want to get his hopes up in case it doesn't work,"
the incense, okay?"
S
try to tell her she shouldn't be invoking these sorts of powers. Willow knew
she could do this…
She had to do this…
"I also don't
see why we're even doing this in this first place," Cordelia continued.
"I mean, she killed Xander. Shouldn't we just sta…"
Willow turned
towards Cordelia, a look flashing in her eyes that made the brunette grow
immediately, uncharacteristically silent. "That wasn't Buffy. That was the
demon who took over her body. We have to make her Buffy again."
"Uh, one
question," Oz said from
raising slightly as the other gripped a large, old book. "I don't know
Latin. Is that going to be a problem?"
"You don't
have to understand it, you just have to read it,"
this. Buffy needs our help now."
The
room grew silent for a moment before Oz's intoned, "
breath, steeling herself. "Not dead, nor of the living.
Spirits of the interregnum, I call…"
*** *** ***
Buffy
savored the taste and feel of the warm blood as it slid down her throat,
Their
meal for the night was sandwiched between her and Spike as they fed from
lover.
The
girl made one final sound, something between a sigh and a whimper as her heart
came to a stop. Buffy lapped at her neck, enjoying the last drops of blood.
Then, it hit her…
She
cried out, stumbling backwards and to the ground. Something went through her
and she shook, unbearable pain surging in her.
She
gasped, blinked, watched as Spike dropped the girl, and the body seemed to hit the
ground of the dirty alley in slow motion.
Spike
was calling her name, but it barely registered in Buffy's mind. Her gaze was
fixated on the body, on the unblinking, dead eyes.
The girl was dead. She had killed her.
Buffy
jumped up, scrambling to get away as she felt suddenly trapped. Revulsion
filled her, the horror at what she'd done foremost in her mind.
And
not just this girl… There had been others. Some faceless,
some not.
Kendra.
Xander.
Oh god, she'd killed her best friend…
She
looked up at Spike, saw the concern in his eyes, yet all she could think of was
the atrocities they'd committed together. He reached for her, and Buffy pulled
away.
She
couldn't take this; it was too much.
She
ran.
Her
legs moved with inhuman speed as she ran blindly through the night, no thoughts
as to where she was going. The waves of disgust moving over her threatened to
bring her down and she stumbled, only to right herself and keep going.
Suddenly,
she was brought to a stop, strong arms holding her in place. She struggled yet
couldn't escape, and finally, she slumped, still. Tears rolled down her cheeks,
and she shook as she cried.
Spike
turned her in his arms, holding her against his chest, trying his best to
soothe her. Sobs wracked her tiny frame, and he was at a loss to figure out
what was wrong with her.
"Buffy?
Talk to me, sweetheart. Please…"
She
said nothing, even when he begged her a second time,
then a third. Finally, Spike scooped her
up, cradling her body against his chest as he walked back towards their crypt.
Spike
brought her to their bed, lying her down before he joined her, holding her
close to him. The only sounds she made were soft, choked sobs, and he tightened
his embrace, worry filling him.
*** *** ***
"Okay,
now that was freaky."
Oz
gave Cordelia a quick glance before he turned his attention back to
you sure you're okay? That got pretty weird there for a bit."
"I'm
fine,"
labored breaths. "It was…" She blinked and looked up at Oz. "I
felt something go through me, some ancient power. It worked. I know it did. I
can feel it."
"So
what do we do now?" Oz asked her, taking her hand.
"We
wait for Buffy to come home,"
"With her soul back, she'll be herself again, and she'll come back."
She blinked, the world seeming to spin. "Though right now, I think I need
a little rest…"
tip over, but Oz caught her and picked her up. "Easy
now. Let's get you to bed."
As Oz
tucked
couldn't shake the feeling things weren't going to be as simple now as his
girlfriend seemed to believe.
*** *** ***
Buffy
didn't know how long she'd lain there. She'd stared blankly ahead, the horrors
she'd inflicted over the past few weeks playing over and over again in her
mind.
She
was a murderer, a monster.
It
hadn't taken her long to realize why she felt the way she did now. She had a
soul. Someone must've found a way to recreate the curse that had been placed on
Angel and used it on her.
She couldn't keep going like this.
she knew she'd been happy with what she was. It horrified her to realize that
now, but what was done was done. She was a vampire, and she could never go back
to being human ever again.
If she had to be a vampire, Buffy
didn't want to it to be like this…
She
turned to Spike, startling him. "Do you love me?" she asked him, her
eyes wild.
His
brow furrowed in confusion. "Buffy? Of course I love you, pet. I…"
"So
this is real? What we have? We…we can have real love?"
"Yes.
Why…"
Buffy
silenced him with a hard kiss, her fingers already working to undo his belt and
pop the buttons of his jeans. Spike broke away from her mouth, stilling her
hands with his own. "Luv, you're frightening me. Tell me what's wrong.
Please…"
"We
have to have sex," Buffy replied as she pulled her hands away from his and
finished freeing his cock. He groaned, hardening as she began to stroke him,
though his mind was racing.
"Buffy…"
Spike tried again, only to break off with another groan as Buffy pushed him
onto his back and straddled his waist, quickly hiking up her skirt so she could
take him inside.
She
set a punishing rhythm, and Spike held on to her hips, unable to do anything
but give in to the pleasure of her body.
"
on top of him. "Make me come. Please, I need…please…"
With
a growl, Spike flipped them over, pounding into Buffy hard enough to make bed
shake and creak. Buffy cried out, grabbing his shoulders as she pitched her
hips up to meet his thrusts, rubbing her pelvis against his in a desperate need
for friction.
Buffy
mewled in frustration, her orgasm seeming just out of reach. She couldn't
concentrate, couldn't push back the guilt eating away at her, and she closed
her eyes and shook her head in a desperate attempt to force it back.
Spike
felt her growing tense beneath him, and he propped himself up on one arm so he
could reach between their bodies with the other to find her clit. He rubbed
quick circles against it, knowing exactly what always managed to set her off.
He
didn't fail this time. The pleasure overwhelmed her, and Buffy succumbed to it,
calling Spike's name in the height of physical ecstasy. She felt Spike release
inside of her body, and she held on to him, waiting for the soul to leave her
again.
It
didn't.
Spike
pulled out of her and rolled to the side, and still, the guilt raged inside of
her, seeming to grow now with the knowledge she'd tried to rid herself of it.
She started to panic, but then, she remembered something: it didn't leave
immediately with Angel, either.
There'd
been time afterwards, for cuddling and soft whispers. She'd fallen asleep in
his arms before the soul had gone away at all. Perhaps there was a delay, time
needed for the curse to break.
She
lay there beside Spike in the damp cold of the crypt and waited. She'd done
what she was supposed to do; the soul should be leaving now.
Only
it didn't.
Time
passed and still, the soul stayed fast. Despair threatened to overtake her as
she realized it wasn't going to go. Sex with Spike hadn't given her that moment
of true happiness, which Buffy knew could only mean one thing.
What
they had wasn't really love.
Never
before had she felt so alone, so empty. She was dead, trapped inside the cold
body of a corpse. The guilt of the sins she'd committed threatened to break her
newly-restored soul, and now, she no longer even had the one true comfort she'd
thought she'd be afforded after her turning.
She
turned to Spike, her heart breaking as she realized what she'd thought had been
between them couldn't be real. It was some sort of sick infatuation between
demons—nothing more. He was looking at her now with what must be false concern
in his eyes, not more than the echo of a human emotion.
Spike didn't love her.
She
jumped from the bed and ran into the shadows of the crypt, where she collapsed,
unable to stop herself from crying again. Spike got up, fixing his jeans before
he went to her, kneeling down so he could place his hand on her shoulder.
"Buffy?
Pet, what is this? What's wrong?"
"Don't
touch me," Buffy snapped, pulling away from him. "Don't ever touch me
again!"
Spike
recoiled. "Buffy? What…?"
"Leave
me alone."
At a
loss, Spike backed away, going over to the edge of the bed where he sat and
watched her, wishing he knew how to make whatever was wrong with her better.
It broke his heart to see her cry.
*** *** ***
Yes,
here comes the angst. Hopefully, you'll be willing to stick with me. If you're
not, don't yell at me.
Please
review.