Family of Eternity
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
10,313
Reviews:
35
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
10,313
Reviews:
35
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 2
Thank you for the reviews...
Chapter 2
Spike opened his eyes slowly, his neck killing him. He tried to lift his arm to figure out what the hell was going on and realized he was too weak. Frowning, his eyes searched the darkness for a clue as to where he was. After a few moments of pondering he realized he was tucked into the gutter of the sidewalk. And he wrinkled his nose as he realized his back was wet. /Perfect./
As Spike lay on his back, ever so slowly his memories resurfaced, giving him surround sound flashbacks of those vampires draining him. Wave after wave of anger and nausea flowed through him. No one had ever done this to him before, not even his bastard of a grandsire Angel. /Angelus...bloody hell...if that ponce finds out I’m staking myself./
He lay drained of any energy, helpless. Not new to the experience and certainly not in the last few months, it merely left him bitter. He could feel his death rapidly approaching with the coming dawn. It put him at ease. He knew he was repressing something from his memory that, once free, would shatter him. /All right, Spike my boy...you’ve lasted more’n a century but s’pose everyone’s gotta die some time./
He detected a figure walking by him for what he presumed was a morning jog but found he didn’t really care. His body was cradled in the gutter not terribly far from the bumper of a car, keeping him relatively out of sight. And there was no way in hell he was calling for yet another human’s help. It was just as well. The last thing he needed was for his remaining moments in this world to be filled with taunts or pity.
Faintly he thought he heard his name being called but he couldn’t be sure. Spike closed his eyes, ready for his fate but it wasn’t meant to be. He opened his eyes in shock as Joyce Summers reached under his arms and started to pull. That’s when he realized who the morning jogger had to have been. The first hint of sunrise sent little rays of light dancing in the air. Spike hissed as the light glanced off him and he started to smoke. He suddenly decided he didn’t want to die.
Joyce put her back into it, managing to pull him indoors just as the sun peeked out. Falling to the ground with Spike in her arms, she kicked the door closed. She shook her head, her hand squeezing his shoulder. She was the mother of a vampire slayer so she knew how very close to dying he had just come. She was panting heavily as she held onto him, “You’re lucky I was going to the gallery early.”
Spike didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his luck so he decided on neither. A sudden flash of her dead body at his feet made him flinch. Shaking in silent hysteria, he covered his face with his hands for a moment, hoping to wipe this nightmare out of his mind. He had no idea what the hell that was but it was only increasing his fear both of her and of himself. Joyce looked down at him, frowning at his trembling, ”Spike...what’s wrong?” His throat closed up and he shook his head, keeping his eyes averted. She frowned a little, “Are you hurt?” He shook his head a little again, still not looking at her, “Spike look at me.”
His eyes squeezed shut, a tear escaping him. Her motherly feelings for this boyish demon kicked in and she held him close. She noticed the way he jumped from the firm touch and cradled him instead of squeezing. Then she started to move, back and forth in a comforting rocking motion. His body continued to shake within the safety of her arms. He looked up at her as his memories started to flood him. Wanting to sob was not an option so he closed his eyes again and concentrated on her. Biting the inside of his cheek, a faint amount of what little blood he had left trickled down his throat. Her actions were as soothing as the blood, so soothing that he stilled as he drifted off to a hopefully healing sleep. /Oh God help me mum...please.../
Joyce looked down at him, watching him closely as he stilled into slumber. He was so pale and she wasn’t sure if there was something wrong or if he was drunk. In either case, blood would help and she was fresh out. Only when she was sure he was unconscious did she release him. Letting him slump onto the floor, she climbed to her feet and went to the phone.
A wave of dizziness hit her and she leaned against the wall, her eyes closed. Flinching at the growing headache, she rubbed her temples and tried to force away the wave of nausea that always seemed to follow. It had been happening a lot lately but she had no idea why. Gaining her equilibrium back, she walked slowly to the phone on the wall. Dialing a number from her address book, a nasal voice answered on the fourth ring, “The Alibi...Willie speaking...”
“Yes, this is Mrs. Summers...”
“Hey there, doll face...”
Joyce rolled her eyes, “Not now...I need a favor.”
She was familiar with the barkeep, bringing Spike blood on occasion when the vampire had no money left or no ability to get it. Unknown to her daughter, she’d kept in contact with the blond after his last drunken visit. When he’d visited her with a chip in his head, Joyce had secretly welcomed him and talked with him often.
When she’d heard about his betrayal with Adam, she’d gone over to his crypt and given him a stern scolding. But then she’d sat down and talked with him, listening to him complain about his inability not only to kill, but to protect himself. She again made the offer of letting him stay in the basement but once again he passed on it. Her daughter being one of the reasons. Speaking of which. She glanced from his prone form to the stairs.
There was no way she’d ever be strong enough to carry him. Shaking her head, Joyce cleared her thoughts of the past and dialed a different number, waiting until the line connected, “Buffy...I need your help...”
***
Buffy took a deep breath, walking slowly to her house. On the one hand she was bordering on furious that her mom had dragged Spike into her house. On the other hand, she had a good mind to smack him upside the head for doing whatever he had done to wind up on the sidewalk in the first place. And secretly, a small part of her was relieved that he was alright.
That dream kept running through her mind again and again. She wasn’t so sure it had been a dream at all. Maybe it was like, a slayer dream or something. Not that she was ever going to tell Giles about it. Her watcher or whatever he was would have an apocalyptic fit. But there had to be a reason for it. Just like there had to be a logical explanation for the growing fuzzies she was feeling for Spike. /Come on, girl. Take a good look at that ass and tell me you need another reason./
“Have to get his coat off to see his ass, first.”
She’d mumbled the comment but her slayer side that always sounded remarkably like Faith was quick to fire one back. /Yeah, right. You’ve been up close when fighting. You’ve seen him without his coat when you got to manhandle him into Giles’ tub...stop being coy and say it!/
Growling to herself, “Okay, he has a fantastic ass. Happy now?”
“S-sure.” Buffy blinked and returned to reality, realizing she had just blurted that out at a passerby. Blushing two shades of red, she hurried on her way.
/Girl, you’ve got it ba-ad./
Chapter 2
Spike opened his eyes slowly, his neck killing him. He tried to lift his arm to figure out what the hell was going on and realized he was too weak. Frowning, his eyes searched the darkness for a clue as to where he was. After a few moments of pondering he realized he was tucked into the gutter of the sidewalk. And he wrinkled his nose as he realized his back was wet. /Perfect./
As Spike lay on his back, ever so slowly his memories resurfaced, giving him surround sound flashbacks of those vampires draining him. Wave after wave of anger and nausea flowed through him. No one had ever done this to him before, not even his bastard of a grandsire Angel. /Angelus...bloody hell...if that ponce finds out I’m staking myself./
He lay drained of any energy, helpless. Not new to the experience and certainly not in the last few months, it merely left him bitter. He could feel his death rapidly approaching with the coming dawn. It put him at ease. He knew he was repressing something from his memory that, once free, would shatter him. /All right, Spike my boy...you’ve lasted more’n a century but s’pose everyone’s gotta die some time./
He detected a figure walking by him for what he presumed was a morning jog but found he didn’t really care. His body was cradled in the gutter not terribly far from the bumper of a car, keeping him relatively out of sight. And there was no way in hell he was calling for yet another human’s help. It was just as well. The last thing he needed was for his remaining moments in this world to be filled with taunts or pity.
Faintly he thought he heard his name being called but he couldn’t be sure. Spike closed his eyes, ready for his fate but it wasn’t meant to be. He opened his eyes in shock as Joyce Summers reached under his arms and started to pull. That’s when he realized who the morning jogger had to have been. The first hint of sunrise sent little rays of light dancing in the air. Spike hissed as the light glanced off him and he started to smoke. He suddenly decided he didn’t want to die.
Joyce put her back into it, managing to pull him indoors just as the sun peeked out. Falling to the ground with Spike in her arms, she kicked the door closed. She shook her head, her hand squeezing his shoulder. She was the mother of a vampire slayer so she knew how very close to dying he had just come. She was panting heavily as she held onto him, “You’re lucky I was going to the gallery early.”
Spike didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his luck so he decided on neither. A sudden flash of her dead body at his feet made him flinch. Shaking in silent hysteria, he covered his face with his hands for a moment, hoping to wipe this nightmare out of his mind. He had no idea what the hell that was but it was only increasing his fear both of her and of himself. Joyce looked down at him, frowning at his trembling, ”Spike...what’s wrong?” His throat closed up and he shook his head, keeping his eyes averted. She frowned a little, “Are you hurt?” He shook his head a little again, still not looking at her, “Spike look at me.”
His eyes squeezed shut, a tear escaping him. Her motherly feelings for this boyish demon kicked in and she held him close. She noticed the way he jumped from the firm touch and cradled him instead of squeezing. Then she started to move, back and forth in a comforting rocking motion. His body continued to shake within the safety of her arms. He looked up at her as his memories started to flood him. Wanting to sob was not an option so he closed his eyes again and concentrated on her. Biting the inside of his cheek, a faint amount of what little blood he had left trickled down his throat. Her actions were as soothing as the blood, so soothing that he stilled as he drifted off to a hopefully healing sleep. /Oh God help me mum...please.../
Joyce looked down at him, watching him closely as he stilled into slumber. He was so pale and she wasn’t sure if there was something wrong or if he was drunk. In either case, blood would help and she was fresh out. Only when she was sure he was unconscious did she release him. Letting him slump onto the floor, she climbed to her feet and went to the phone.
A wave of dizziness hit her and she leaned against the wall, her eyes closed. Flinching at the growing headache, she rubbed her temples and tried to force away the wave of nausea that always seemed to follow. It had been happening a lot lately but she had no idea why. Gaining her equilibrium back, she walked slowly to the phone on the wall. Dialing a number from her address book, a nasal voice answered on the fourth ring, “The Alibi...Willie speaking...”
“Yes, this is Mrs. Summers...”
“Hey there, doll face...”
Joyce rolled her eyes, “Not now...I need a favor.”
She was familiar with the barkeep, bringing Spike blood on occasion when the vampire had no money left or no ability to get it. Unknown to her daughter, she’d kept in contact with the blond after his last drunken visit. When he’d visited her with a chip in his head, Joyce had secretly welcomed him and talked with him often.
When she’d heard about his betrayal with Adam, she’d gone over to his crypt and given him a stern scolding. But then she’d sat down and talked with him, listening to him complain about his inability not only to kill, but to protect himself. She again made the offer of letting him stay in the basement but once again he passed on it. Her daughter being one of the reasons. Speaking of which. She glanced from his prone form to the stairs.
There was no way she’d ever be strong enough to carry him. Shaking her head, Joyce cleared her thoughts of the past and dialed a different number, waiting until the line connected, “Buffy...I need your help...”
***
Buffy took a deep breath, walking slowly to her house. On the one hand she was bordering on furious that her mom had dragged Spike into her house. On the other hand, she had a good mind to smack him upside the head for doing whatever he had done to wind up on the sidewalk in the first place. And secretly, a small part of her was relieved that he was alright.
That dream kept running through her mind again and again. She wasn’t so sure it had been a dream at all. Maybe it was like, a slayer dream or something. Not that she was ever going to tell Giles about it. Her watcher or whatever he was would have an apocalyptic fit. But there had to be a reason for it. Just like there had to be a logical explanation for the growing fuzzies she was feeling for Spike. /Come on, girl. Take a good look at that ass and tell me you need another reason./
“Have to get his coat off to see his ass, first.”
She’d mumbled the comment but her slayer side that always sounded remarkably like Faith was quick to fire one back. /Yeah, right. You’ve been up close when fighting. You’ve seen him without his coat when you got to manhandle him into Giles’ tub...stop being coy and say it!/
Growling to herself, “Okay, he has a fantastic ass. Happy now?”
“S-sure.” Buffy blinked and returned to reality, realizing she had just blurted that out at a passerby. Blushing two shades of red, she hurried on her way.
/Girl, you’ve got it ba-ad./