Chapter 20: Blood Red
Siggy screamed and yanked back hard away from Tucker’s grasp. The fingers around her wrist were like steel, though, and she only succeeded in wrenching her own arm painfully. She bit out a gasp and aimed the heel of her boot at his kneecap. Hard.
He crumpled in response, and she took the fortunate opportunity given her to pull free and run. A howl of rage followed her desperate flight around the corner, and before she knew what was happening, she was tackled hard from behind. She hit the ground with an “oof!”, and the weight of the man of her back knocked the air from her lungs with bruising intensity.
“Thought you could get away from me that easily, bitch?” Tucker’s voice sounded cold and inhuman in her ear. “Think you’re smarter than me, better than me?” The blade of a hunting knife gleamed in the soft moonlight, and he pressed the tip right at the back of her neck, ready to sever her life if she struggled further.
Siggy froze, wide-eyed with fear for the first time in her life. There was absolutely nothing she could do to stop him without condemning herself. A horrifying feeling of helplessness swept over her just and his lips leaned over to whisper right into her ear once more.
“You’re mine, bitch.”
And, at that moment, Buffy and Spike rounded the corner, saw Tucker holding Siggy violently down, and all hell broke loose.
Before Buffy even had time to register what was happening, Spike leapt forward with a roar, features shifting to cruel demonic planes in the moonlight, and with clawed fingers he ripped Tucker’s body off of Siggy’s.
Tucker crashed back against the wall, shattering the small end table he’d landed against, and slumped to the ground half-dazed. When he looked up, his eyes were clear of the haze of the Haunting once more, but the knife remained firmly grasped in his hand.
It was all over in an instant. Spike leapt at him faster than the eye could see, and just as Buffy lunged forward in protest, she heard the sickening snap of bones breaking. Tucker fell to a lifeless heap on the dark blue carpeting, and Spike was instantly back at Siggy’s side, cradling her sobbing body against him.
Buffy watched dumbstruck, the horrible facts presenting themselves to her one by one. Tucker was dead. Spike had killed him. Tucker was human. Spike’s chip hadn’t fired. Spike’s chip hadn’t worked. She, the Vampire Slayer, had just watched a Vampire kill an innocent human.
Out of years of habit, she caught hold of the stake in her pocket and pulled it out, her knuckles white on the polished wood. It was her job – her duty – to slay Spike now, and she could feel her heart breaking in her chest.
He was still huddled over Siggy, unaware of the moral quagmire the Slayer was trying desperately to swim her way out of. His face was still that of a demon, nuzzling her neck softly, one fang carefully knicking the place where he’d marked her as family and drawing one drop of blood from her skin as a reaffirmation of his vows.
“Never let anyone ‘urt you,” he whispered raggedly, holding her sobbing body as tightly as he could without hurting her. “Always here for you, pet, always.”
Siggy clung to him, burying her head against the comforting coolness of his chest, her fingers fisting in the thick leather of his jacket. Waves of relief continued to sweep over her that he had been there, that it was all over now, that she was safe.
“Shh, that’s it, luv.” he cooed to her softly, one clawed hand stroking her hair affectionately before he looked up for the first time and saw the weapon in Buffy’s hand. Instantly, he froze at the sight, confusion in his golden eyes.
“H-He’s dead,” Buffy felt the sudden need to defend herself. “You killed him.” She looked at the vampire in full game face clutching a mortal woman to him and tried to find it alarming or dangerous, but deep inside her she knew that it wasn’t. Spike may have been able to kill, but even with his fangs mere inches from a human throat, Siggy was in no danger.
Spike’s eyes hardened in realization. “Yeah, I killed ‘im,” he agreed in a low growl. “Would do it again in a second, too.”
“I-It was the H-Haunting.” Buffy tried to keep the stutter from her voice, but it was impossible what with her world falling out from under her. Never in a million years had she dared consider that she’d find Spike again only to have to stake him. “It wasn’t his fault.” This last statement was pleading, as if begging him to understand that what he had done was wrong, begging him to be something he wasn’t, to miraculously have a soul after all.
“He hurt one ‘f my girls,” Spike insisted vehemently, his words reassuring Siggy while confronting Buffy. “No one hurts my girls an’ lives.”
Buffy felt her heart shatter at his words. With a visibly shaking hand, she raised her stake and.
“No, please.”
The hoarse whisper froze Buffy in her tracks, and she noticed that Siggy had turned to face her for the first time, eyes still stained with tears and one hand curled protectively over Spike’s heart.
“He saved my life,” she pleaded.
Buffy watched Spike’s expression turn tender once more as he nuzzled Siggy’s hair comfortingly, and her world slipped out from her once again. But not because she had to kill Spike anymore. Because she could choose not to kill Spike. She felt dizzy from the implications, unfamiliar notions flitting through her head that he had, in his own way, done the right thing, done good.
With a clatter, Buffy’s stake fell to the floor, and then she ran and ran and ran.
* * *
An over-dramatic sigh, and Veronica landed gracefully on the settee in the recreation room. “Are things as deathly dull here tonight, as well?” she asked in a bored drawl, lighting up a cigarette and caressing the filter with her crimson red lips as she took a deep drag.
Xel and Lena’s continuous argument froze for a second at the unexpected arrival of the third party, and Xel hastily straightened his jacket before shooting a leer Veronica’s way.
She gave him a small smile in response and coolly blew out a smoke ring.
Lena scowled at the interplay. “I would’ve thought a slow night would be a good thing,” she pointed out primly. “Or do you want to be attacked?”
Veronica rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say I wanted the Haunting to provide us with entertainment, little girl. I merely suggested we find something to break the horrible monotony of being trapped out in the middle of nowhere.”
Xel shot her a bright smile and pointedly sat on the settee right beside her. “You had something in mind, perhaps?” he suggested in his best seductive voice.
She gave him a coy smile in response. “Maybe.”
Lena bristled visibly, and her antennae shook with rage. “Well then, why don’t you go off and do whatever it is you have planned by yourself,” she hissed in a jealous rage. “We’re,” she grabbed Xel’s hand for emphasis, “turning in for the night.”
“We’re.what?” Xel demanded, irritated now that she was ordering him around.
“We’re going to bed,” she informed him angrily.
“No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are!” She shoved him pointedly in the direction of the door.
“Ow, woman!” he exclaimed, now being dragged along by one antennae behind her. “Didn’t you ever learn any manners? Haven’t you ever-?”
The door slammed shut behind the departing couple, leaving Veronica alone in the recreation room.
She let out a weary sigh. “Well, this place is a bust,” she decided before getting up with a sudden decision. “I wonder where that gorgeous vampire’s gotten off to.”
* * *
It had been a simple matter for Spike to wrap his duster around Siggy, lift her up into his arms, and carry her back to his room. Shivers had overtaken her just as they’d entered the common room, and Spike had rushed her to his bed without even bothering to find Dawn first. Siggy had calmed some when she’d been buried under the covers and warm once more, and he’d soothingly stroked her hair to calm her down.
After ten or so minutes, she finally managed to look up at him and smile. “You must think me such a.how you say?.wimp?” she ventured.
“Not at all, luv,” he assured her, sitting on the edge of the bed and smiling softly now that the shivers had left her body. Somewhere between the hallway and his room, his features had morphed back into human form. “Think you’re right brave for survivin’ that nutcase. Had the common sense to cry out for help an’ everythin’.”
“I was lucky you were nearby,” Siggy agreed with a shudder. “The recreation room is so far off. I doubt the others even heard.”
“Yeah, well, vamp hearing, y’know,” he assured her, well aware that she was troubled by this near miss. “Would’ve heard you anyway.”
She accepted that at face value and gave him an appreciative smile. “Thank you,” she said softly.
He looked embarrassed at that. “No need, luv. Not like ‘m a hero or anythin’. Just can’t let anyone touch my family, y’know?”
Siggy smiled and inwardly rolled her eyes. “If you say so,” she let him live with his delusions.
“Should prob’ly see to gettin’ rid of that wanker I left back in hallway,” he commented, half to himself. “Be a nasty trip to anyone who comes across ‘im.”
“Spike.” She caught his wrist before he could flee. “I do not wish to be alone,” she pleaded softly. “At least until I fall asleep?”
With a resigned sigh, he dragged the armchair in the corner over to the bed and plopped himself down. “Bloody women orderin’ me around all the time like ‘m some kinda pansy.” he grumbled under his breath good-naturedly. He couldn’t really begrudge her this request, though. How often had he been desperate for Dawn’s comfort and reassurance at night? It suddenly struck him as odd that he hadn’t had one of his little breakdowns since their first arrival at the inn.
Siggy lay on her side facing him for quite some time, puzzling out the mysteries of the universe in his expressive features. When she finally spoke, it was barely a whisper. “I do not regret that you killed him.”
Spike started at that, having half drifted off himself. “What’s that, pet?”
“That Tucker,” she explained. “The man who attacked me. I am glad that he is gone.”
“Did it for you, luv,” he assured her.
“I know,” she agreed with a wistful smile. “You are a good man, I think,” she commented before closing her eyes.
Spike opened his mouth to protest, but she already seemed to be falling asleep and he didn’t want to wake her. With a sigh, he shut his own eyes and tried not to remember the look of horror on Buffy’s face back in the hallway.
Should’ve known better, he chided himself. Should’ve known the only reason she was interested in me was because she thought I was some kind of neutered pet. Learned that lesson the hard way last time, didn’t I? Well, it’s not happening again. I’m not letting her fool me again.
And, surprisingly, despite his mental agitation, he fell asleep as well, spread out awkwardly over the usually uncomfortable armchair.
* * *
Veronica knocked pointedly on the door to Dawn and Spike’s suite and once again got no answer. A scowl crossed her features as she tried to imagine where he could possibly be at this hour of the morning. She sent a pointed glare in the direction of the door to Buffy’s room.
“Bitch-slut,” she muttered under her breath before reluctantly stalking back to her room.
She turned the corner and.
“Aiee!” she screeched in terrified surprise at the sight before her. She quickly ran over to the body and felt for a pulse. “Fuck.” Tucker was dead. With a weary sigh, she went to go wake up Ms. Danvers and have the police stop by to pick up yet another corpse.
* * *
Buffy had had a horrible time trying to get to sleep that night. Half of her wanted to dash out of her room and go find Spike so that she could stake him, and the other half of her wanted to dash out of her room and go find Spike so that she could kiss him and tell him that it was all right. It wasn’t often that her Buffy side and Slayer side seemed to give her multiple personality disorder, but this was one of those very confusing times.
As a result, she’d locked herself in her room and refused to go out lest she do something she would regret later. But that hadn’t kept her from tossing and turning all night, trying to decipher the man who’d given her the sweetest, most tender kiss she’d ever known one minute and had snapped a man’s neck the next. The sounds of soft conversation through the wall to Spike’s room didn’t help anything, especially since that odd jealousy was back at the closeness between Spike and Siggy.
And, when she finally did drift off to sleep, she dreamed.
“Christ, Buffy!” Spike exclaimed in ecstasy, hands rattling the chains that bound him to the bed as he thrust up deep inside her.
She let out a moan of her own, throwing her head back and riding him as hard and fast as she could. Her fingers raked deep into the bare chest beneath her, drawing blood and pain that just drove her on faster. Her eyes remained riveted on the dirt ceiling above, mind intentionally blocking out the knowledge that she was in a crypt, fucking a dead man.
It was easier when she looked away from him like this. She could make him whatever she wanted – just a long, thick cock and a hard body meant solely to pleasure her, to be used and discarded by her.
Her climax shook her to her very core as he struck the sweet spot within her over and over again. A cry of raw pleasure and then she collapsed on top of him, her hips still gyrating against his swollen erection erotically.
“God, Buffy, I love you,” his ragged voice whimpered against her sweat-soaked hair. “I love you so much. L-Let me go, pet. I need to touch you, make you feel so good.” It was as much of a plea as he would ever give her.
Buffy froze at his words, and her hand shot out in response, catching rough hold of his neck and squeezing. He gasped in pain, but as he didn’t need oxygen, the effect of choking to death was lost. She could compress his trachea, however, prevent him from talking, from saying such sweet things to her.
“You’re nothing to me,” she bit out cruelly, rising up off of him. “You know that, right, Spike? You’re worthless. A filthy, soulless monster. You could never love.”
She looked down at him with disdain, disgusted by the naked longing and devotion in his eyes. God, how could he still love her after all this? Didn’t he get that he was just her cheap whore? That she was using him for a little fun?
“You’re pathetic,” she practically spat out, the nails of her free hand slicing his beautifully sculptured cheekbones. Trails of red flowed down the wounds, and at all that moment all she wanted was to mar his beauty in every way, to punish him from being fool enough to love a monster like her.
He caught the danger in her eyes and struggled helplessly against his bonds, but the chains held fast. Ha, that’ll teach him to trust me, the nasty thought flitted through Buffy’s mind.
With agonizing slowness, her hand trailed down his smooth, bare chest until her palm lay over his unbeating heart. “Do I have your heart?” she whispered with a wicked smile. “Do you give it to me?”
He nodded numbly, throat still too constricted to speak.
“Then you won’t need it anymore,” she hissed before her hand dug down into his flesh, and he cried out in pain, and.
Suddenly, it felt as though she had whirled into the Buffy body she’d been watching all along. She froze in horror at the blood on her hands from where her evil doppelganger had just tried to rip out his heart. Tears filled her eyes as she stared down at the body of the man she loved, lifeless and still beneath her.
“S-Spike?” she whimpered softly, fingers that had been ripping him apart only second ago now caressing him gently, pleading for him to be all right.
He didn’t stir, and certain knowledge filled her mind that in this hell his body wouldn’t crumble to dust even though he was dead, just to torture her with the remains of what she’d done.
“Please, Spike,” she sobbed softly, pressing dozens of soft kisses across his face, his lips.
Her hands found the chains that had bound him and snapped them with one flick of her wrists. Still, he remained limp and lifeless beneath her.
“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded. “It’s me now, Spike. It’s really me. I’ll never hurt you, baby, never. God, I love you so much. Do you hear me, Spike?” She was growing hysterical now as it began to sink in that he was truly gone. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
She fell atop his body, clinging desperately to the empty corpse.
“Love you, love you.”
Love you.
“No!” With a horrified scream, Buffy bolted upright in bed, sheets drenched with sweat. “No, no, no.” she pleaded with the darkness. “It didn’t happen like that! It didn’t! I.”
Fresh sobs shook her body at the memory. She’d just fled, that was all. Freaked out completely at his admission and had run as fast as she could, leaving him there bound and helpless, unable to stop her. That, in itself, was horrible enough to her now.
“No, not Spike.” The feel of his dead, unanimated body beneath still felt so real, so horrifying. “Please, god, no.”
She sniffled and looked up and for the first time noticed the red light surrounding her, dancing off the walls in merriment at her pain.
“Y-You bastard!” she screamed at the Haunting in infuriated outrage. “How could you-?” She trailed off and wiped the tears from her eyes as a grim determination took over her. “Do you worst,” she informed it with cool malice. “You’ll never turn me against him again. Never. I love him more than anything, you.ugly stage lighting effect!”
The red light bounced away from her at that, as if stunned by her violent opposition to its emotional manipulations. It turned a sickly green around the edges for a second before vanishing in a swirl of light.
And, alone at last, Buffy finally let herself cry her eyes out. Needless to say, she didn’t sleep again that night.
* * *
Just as the sun peeked over the horizon, Rick let out a languid sigh and clutched the woman beside him even closer to his body. His drowsy mind registered only a feeling of unexpected contentment for a minute before he finally remembered where he was and who he was with. A smile crossed his lips when he finally opened his crimson eyes to see the brunette head tucked into the curve of his shoulder.
Dawn looked so beautiful when she slept, innocent and angelic, but the fiery determination that had first drawn him to her was still visible within that beauty, a part of it. Lazily, he turned his attention to her aura, basking in the soft green glow that circled them both when they lay close like this.
And then noticing the eerie red light that seemed to be leaking in through the cracks in room. He started in surprise and alarm, and Dawn moaned in her sleep at his motion, wrapping a possessive arm around his waist. He froze when he realized they were surrounded by the light now, but then a curious thing happened.
The light seemed to want to move in closer – undoubtedly, to possess them. But as Rick watched, the red glow bounced harmlessly off of the green glow that surrounded Dawn, turning a sickening olive color at every point of collision. After only a few seconds effort, the Haunting gave up and fled from the room once more.
Rick blinked.
“Mmm, ‘morning.”
The satisfied murmur against his chest turned his attention from the unusual phenomenon and back to the woman in his arms. “Good morning,” he agreed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
Dawn smiled softly and tangled her limbs comfortably with his. “Guess this means last night was more than a good dream, huh?” she commented.
“Much more,” he assured her with a conviction that no one would have been able to deny.
Dawn gave him a radiant smile and pulled him in for a deep kiss, savoring the feel of his lips against hers, the sweet taste of his tongue. “God, I never do this,” she said with a sigh, breaking the contact of their lips and resting her forehead against his.
“What?” he asked curiously, one hand tracing the full swell of her breast beneath the sheet.
“Just.hop into bed like this,” she clarified. “I hope you don’t think it’s a habit of mine.”
“It has never happened to me before, either,” he assured her, breathing in the coconut scent of her hair and savoring it.
“But last night was.”
“Special,” he finished for her.
“Yeah,” she agreed with a shy smile that melted his heart.
“I have never felt like this about anyone else,” he informed her softly. “I have never dared let anyone get so.”
“Close,” Dawn agreed, dizzy from the tacit understanding that seemed to be passing between them.
“Close,” he concurred, leaning in to steal another passionate kiss from her lips.
Soft murmurs escaped both their throats as they mingled lazily in the sheets together. Only Dawn’s colossal yawn finally broke them apart. A short burst of laughter escaped the pair of them before they hazarded to sit up in bed.
“I’m thinking.breakfast?” Dawn suggested, stretching her aching – but, oh, so satisfied – muscles.
“Breakfast,” he agreed with a smile.
However, when they finally emerged from their room, fully dressed once more, the last thing they expected was to find World War III breaking out in their common room.
Dawn answered the desperate pounding on the door to admit a shaking Buffy who dashed into the room without even asking to be let in.
“Spike,” Buffy pleaded anxiously, “tell me he’s still all right!”
“Uh.” Dawn froze, confused and still half asleep.
Buffy dashed right past her and into Spike’s room, squealing a little sigh of relief when she saw him sleeping safe and sound – and rather uncomfortably – in the armchair. “Oh, thank god.”
Dawn and Rick had rushed in after her, her alarm catching on, and now stood even more bewildered in the doorway. “Uh, what happened last night?” Dawn ventured hesitantly, just as the sudden presence of the audience caused Spike to awake with a lion-sized yawn, fangs half-extending in the process.
He blinked, noticed everyone, and cried out “Bloody hell!” in surprise.
His cry in turn woke Siggy, who awoke with her own start, and the circus was truly ready to begin.
“What on earth-?!”
“I dreamed you were dead!”
“Did something happen.?”
“What’s everyone doing here?”
“What’s that smell?”
“It’s none of your business!”
“Oi! You slept with demon boy, there!”
Spike’s exclamation won out over all others, of course, and everyone turned to where Dawn and Rick – who, now that they thought about it really shouldn’t have been there at that hour of the morning – stood guiltily in the doorway.
“You did?” Siggy sounded excited at the gossip.
Spike’s nostrils were flaring with rage. “Tell me you didn’t,” he demanded in a low growl, eyes narrowed.
Dawn set her shoulders squarely. “I’m not going to lie,” she said confidently. “Especially since it would be completely pointless, given that you can smell the truth.”
With a malicious intent in his step, Spike prowled towards the nervous young man in the doorway, eyes flashing a dangerous gold.
“And I absolutely forbid you to take this out on Rick!” Dawn shot out angrily. One index finger caught Spike squarely in the chest, and the vehemence behind it pushed him backwards. “I’m an adult, and I can make my own choices, and you have no right to bully him around out of some outdated notion that you’re defending my honor.”
Spike’s eyes softened back to blue, and he opened his mouth to protest. “I wasn’t-“
“We all know you were,” Dawn cut him off in full fury mode now. “Well, I’m sick of it. I don’t want to hear another word on the subject.”
“I just-“
“Not. Another. Word,” she breathed through clenched teeth.
He gulped and nodded, a wounded look in his eyes.
Dawn softened at that, and she pulled him in for a quick hug. “You know I love you,” she assured him, pushing his head down to rest on her shoulder, “and I know you’re just trying to look out for me, but I need you to just let this go.” She let him go with a soft smile and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Please?” she begged, with big, round, green eyes. “For me?”
A sigh and then another nod. “Manipulative bitch,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “Know I can’t resist the Bambi Eyes.”
Dawn flashed him a radiant smile and placed another soft kiss on his cheek. “Love ya,” she assured him before turning to the rest of the room. “Now, maybe can we discuss what’s going on at breakfast?”
A loud knock broke the still of the suite, and Rick rushed over to answer it. He started in surprise when Veronica practically collapsed into his arms.
“Horrible!” she gasped in disbelief.
“What?” Everyone crowded around her.
“The hotel staff has all fled!” she exclaimed melodramatically. “There’s no more room service!“
Everyone just blinked.
“Oh, and Tucker’s dead, too,” she added, almost as an afterthought.