Family of Eternity
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
10,316
Reviews:
35
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
10,316
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 5
Chapter 5
Spike became aware of his surroundings, not recognizing where he was. His hands were flexing, wanting to reach for someone but he had no idea who. As he looked around the empty room he started to panic. The door was closed and the lights were off, the window also covered. It was as dark as a tomb and it felt like one to him. One of his nightmares involved a tomb and a vengeful Drusilla. He pulled the top comforter closer, realizing it smelled of something familiar and comforting. It smelled like her.
It took a minute, his fractured mind trying to piece together what was real and what wasn’t. She’d fed him. She’d held him and tried to make it all better. But why had she left him? Why did she abandon him again? Except that wasn’t right and he knew it. She’d never abandoned him, only in his nightmares. In the real world she’d kept every pledge and every alliance with him. If he could step away from his fears he’d know he was quickly losing it. Unfortunately, he was stuck in the middle and he was drowning. In desperation he latched onto his most recent memories of her.
He could clearly remember how she had held onto him protectively. The way she made this almost inaudible murmuring sound against his ear. He’d felt safe in her presence and he felt the intense need to find that safety again. His mind flashed to his memories and feelings of terror enveloped him. She wasn’t here. Couldn’t even sense her anywhere in the house.
Feeling on edge, he threw on his duster like a shield, but this time it wasn’t enough. Grinding his teeth, his eyes searched until he found what might do the trick. He wrapped the comforter around him as he stood. Using his nose, he cautiously sniffed out who was in the house, discovering Joyce not far away. The two scents weren’t the same, just as the two women were practically polar opposites of one another. But right now Joyce would simply have to do. Closing his eyes and swallowing, he tentatively ventured out of the room and curled up at the door that had the elder Summers’ scent.
He couldn’t get any closer. He didn’t dare disturb the other woman with his disgraceful fear and cowardliness. He truly was pathetic little William now. With a whimper he buried his head in the comforter, curling into as small a ball as possible and soon drifted back into troubled sleep.
***
“Master!” Chaos sighed softly, more than feeling his age on a daily basis. Especially whenever he took a new fledge under his wing. Jason was eager, bright, and idolized him. Sometimes it made him sick. Nevertheless, he hid his feelings behind a stoic mask and turned piercing black eyes on the young vampire.
“What is it, Jason?”
The blond vampire bowed his head a bit, out of respect and slight fear. This was the true master of their kind. The leader of all leaders and he was his right hand. Well, more like a left foot but still an important part of his day to day existence. This was a demon who could kill him on a whim, nothing more, “We’re here. We’re pulling up to the port.”
Sighing for the millionth time, “Indeed. And since dawn approaches it will be some time before we can leave, correct?”
The little minion looked down, “Yes, sire.”
“Then we should sleep and wait for the nighttime, which would be more appropriate to leave under.”
The blond vampire nodded and slunk away, embarrassed for not having thought of that. Besides it’s not like the master couldn’t have looked through his small port window to see that they were docking into the ports of Los Angeles.
***
Buffy sighed wearily to herself, dusting off her jacket and quietly closing the door behind her. She’d promised her mom she’d stay the night but she still had patrolling before she could turn in. Locking the door behind her, she quietly trudged up the stairs and stopped short, blinking in surprise before tilting her head just a fraction. A tangled mess of bleach-blond hair was peaking out of a small ball of her quilt next to her mom’s door.
Shaking her head a little to herself, kneeling down and gently carding through the locks, “Spike?” A soft grumble was her only response. Lip quirking just a little, “Wake up sleepy head or I’ll dunk you in the bathtub.”
Blue eyes peaked out at her, “That’s not nice, pet.”
Eyebrow raising, “I never said I was nice, now did I?”
His lower lip dropped out just a bit in a pout, comforter pooling around him as he crossed his
arms, “You don’t have to be mean about it.”
Sighing just a little, “I’m tired, white fang, now are you sleeping in a bed or staying in the hall?”
He frowned at her, annoyance and hurt warring in his eyes, “I’ll stay here.”
Buffy closed her eyes and tilted her head back, “Spike I’m not in the mood for your shit right now-...”
Growling softly, “I’m not asking you to.” He snarled to himself and climbed to his feet, nearly thundering down the stairs and throwing open the door before freezing in his tracks. He couldn’t explain why but he found the thought of setting even one foot outside terrifying beyond the description. His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed, eyes closing as he came to the realization that at least for now he was trapped here. He slumped against the door frame in defeat, leaning against his forearm and sighing softly.
Strong yet surprisingly gentle hands moved him over to one side and shut the door, locking it before guiding him by the elbow silently back up the stairs and down to the second bedroom, scooping up the discarded comforter on their way. He went docilely, beaten. He was helpless before, now he was hopeless. Those same hands peeled off his coat, folding it over a chair before pressing a hand to the small of his back to steer him to the bed, “Look, Spike, we both get on each other’s nerves most of the time but I’m not trying to start a fight with you.”
Sitting down, head slumped, “I know, I’m too pathetic for that.”
Buffy knelt down, hands platonically on his knees and peering up at him, “Hey...you’re not pathetic.
You’re hurting in a big way and I get that. Maybe if you talked to me about it I could help.”
Whispering softly, “Just you bein’ here is helping, luv.”
A tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lip as she helped him shuck off his boots, “I’ll take that as a big compliment.”
Sea blue eyes flickering to her own hazel ones, “It was.”
Feeling more at ease in his company, “Right or left side. Invalids choice.”
Shooting her a glare, toning it down when he caught the teasing tilt of her mouth, “Right side.”
Ruffling his hair, “You got it.”
Grumbling and curling up in the mattress, “Stop messin’ up my hair.”
Snickering, changing in the closet before padding across the carpet and curling up on the left
side, “It’s already ruined pal. I can’t make it any worse.”
Sticking out his tongue because right now he felt a little childish, “Bitch.”
Snorting, “Don’t like it then leave, fangless.”
Curling into a tight ball, “Can’t. M’not safe out there.”
Scooting over and running a hand over his head, “You’re safe here. Promise.”
Mumbling, leaning into her touch, “...safe with you...”
Nodding, wrapping an arm around him in unspoken protection, “Yeah...you are.”
Spike became aware of his surroundings, not recognizing where he was. His hands were flexing, wanting to reach for someone but he had no idea who. As he looked around the empty room he started to panic. The door was closed and the lights were off, the window also covered. It was as dark as a tomb and it felt like one to him. One of his nightmares involved a tomb and a vengeful Drusilla. He pulled the top comforter closer, realizing it smelled of something familiar and comforting. It smelled like her.
It took a minute, his fractured mind trying to piece together what was real and what wasn’t. She’d fed him. She’d held him and tried to make it all better. But why had she left him? Why did she abandon him again? Except that wasn’t right and he knew it. She’d never abandoned him, only in his nightmares. In the real world she’d kept every pledge and every alliance with him. If he could step away from his fears he’d know he was quickly losing it. Unfortunately, he was stuck in the middle and he was drowning. In desperation he latched onto his most recent memories of her.
He could clearly remember how she had held onto him protectively. The way she made this almost inaudible murmuring sound against his ear. He’d felt safe in her presence and he felt the intense need to find that safety again. His mind flashed to his memories and feelings of terror enveloped him. She wasn’t here. Couldn’t even sense her anywhere in the house.
Feeling on edge, he threw on his duster like a shield, but this time it wasn’t enough. Grinding his teeth, his eyes searched until he found what might do the trick. He wrapped the comforter around him as he stood. Using his nose, he cautiously sniffed out who was in the house, discovering Joyce not far away. The two scents weren’t the same, just as the two women were practically polar opposites of one another. But right now Joyce would simply have to do. Closing his eyes and swallowing, he tentatively ventured out of the room and curled up at the door that had the elder Summers’ scent.
He couldn’t get any closer. He didn’t dare disturb the other woman with his disgraceful fear and cowardliness. He truly was pathetic little William now. With a whimper he buried his head in the comforter, curling into as small a ball as possible and soon drifted back into troubled sleep.
***
“Master!” Chaos sighed softly, more than feeling his age on a daily basis. Especially whenever he took a new fledge under his wing. Jason was eager, bright, and idolized him. Sometimes it made him sick. Nevertheless, he hid his feelings behind a stoic mask and turned piercing black eyes on the young vampire.
“What is it, Jason?”
The blond vampire bowed his head a bit, out of respect and slight fear. This was the true master of their kind. The leader of all leaders and he was his right hand. Well, more like a left foot but still an important part of his day to day existence. This was a demon who could kill him on a whim, nothing more, “We’re here. We’re pulling up to the port.”
Sighing for the millionth time, “Indeed. And since dawn approaches it will be some time before we can leave, correct?”
The little minion looked down, “Yes, sire.”
“Then we should sleep and wait for the nighttime, which would be more appropriate to leave under.”
The blond vampire nodded and slunk away, embarrassed for not having thought of that. Besides it’s not like the master couldn’t have looked through his small port window to see that they were docking into the ports of Los Angeles.
***
Buffy sighed wearily to herself, dusting off her jacket and quietly closing the door behind her. She’d promised her mom she’d stay the night but she still had patrolling before she could turn in. Locking the door behind her, she quietly trudged up the stairs and stopped short, blinking in surprise before tilting her head just a fraction. A tangled mess of bleach-blond hair was peaking out of a small ball of her quilt next to her mom’s door.
Shaking her head a little to herself, kneeling down and gently carding through the locks, “Spike?” A soft grumble was her only response. Lip quirking just a little, “Wake up sleepy head or I’ll dunk you in the bathtub.”
Blue eyes peaked out at her, “That’s not nice, pet.”
Eyebrow raising, “I never said I was nice, now did I?”
His lower lip dropped out just a bit in a pout, comforter pooling around him as he crossed his
arms, “You don’t have to be mean about it.”
Sighing just a little, “I’m tired, white fang, now are you sleeping in a bed or staying in the hall?”
He frowned at her, annoyance and hurt warring in his eyes, “I’ll stay here.”
Buffy closed her eyes and tilted her head back, “Spike I’m not in the mood for your shit right now-...”
Growling softly, “I’m not asking you to.” He snarled to himself and climbed to his feet, nearly thundering down the stairs and throwing open the door before freezing in his tracks. He couldn’t explain why but he found the thought of setting even one foot outside terrifying beyond the description. His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed, eyes closing as he came to the realization that at least for now he was trapped here. He slumped against the door frame in defeat, leaning against his forearm and sighing softly.
Strong yet surprisingly gentle hands moved him over to one side and shut the door, locking it before guiding him by the elbow silently back up the stairs and down to the second bedroom, scooping up the discarded comforter on their way. He went docilely, beaten. He was helpless before, now he was hopeless. Those same hands peeled off his coat, folding it over a chair before pressing a hand to the small of his back to steer him to the bed, “Look, Spike, we both get on each other’s nerves most of the time but I’m not trying to start a fight with you.”
Sitting down, head slumped, “I know, I’m too pathetic for that.”
Buffy knelt down, hands platonically on his knees and peering up at him, “Hey...you’re not pathetic.
You’re hurting in a big way and I get that. Maybe if you talked to me about it I could help.”
Whispering softly, “Just you bein’ here is helping, luv.”
A tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lip as she helped him shuck off his boots, “I’ll take that as a big compliment.”
Sea blue eyes flickering to her own hazel ones, “It was.”
Feeling more at ease in his company, “Right or left side. Invalids choice.”
Shooting her a glare, toning it down when he caught the teasing tilt of her mouth, “Right side.”
Ruffling his hair, “You got it.”
Grumbling and curling up in the mattress, “Stop messin’ up my hair.”
Snickering, changing in the closet before padding across the carpet and curling up on the left
side, “It’s already ruined pal. I can’t make it any worse.”
Sticking out his tongue because right now he felt a little childish, “Bitch.”
Snorting, “Don’t like it then leave, fangless.”
Curling into a tight ball, “Can’t. M’not safe out there.”
Scooting over and running a hand over his head, “You’re safe here. Promise.”
Mumbling, leaning into her touch, “...safe with you...”
Nodding, wrapping an arm around him in unspoken protection, “Yeah...you are.”