Descent
by
C. Woodhaven
Part Eighteen
Dawn passed through the barrier, expecting it to be painful, but it was like walking through thick smoke or fog. She felt only the slightest hint of something brush against her skin and then she was through. It rippled behind her, invisible to everyone else.
Immediately, she drew back into the shadows, trying to get her bearings and stay out of everyone’s way. Not an easy task.
The scene was chaotic. She’d had no idea that this much had been going on beneath her feet.
Buffy was pounding on Glory with a huge hammer; Willow and Tara were using magic to fight Glory’s minions. Giles, Xander and Anya were doing everything they could to help the fight.
The last place she checked was to the top of the tower, really not wanting to look up. But she had to make sure.
Even though she thought she knew what to expect, it jolted her. She remembered being so cold and terrified, standing on the flimsy platform, wondering if she was going to die.
Dawn could feel the other portal…her lock…ripen and swell. It wasn’t surprising that she felt it so strongly; she’d piggybacked her portal spell upon it. Dimensional rifts held incredible power, the only problem was it was hard to pinpoint when or where they would be.
Unless, of course, you already knew exactly where and when one would be.
Dawn needed to poke a hole in the fabric of time to access it, something that could only be done tonight, one year after the portal was supposed to open. Well, technically, she could have fast-forwarded time to the year before but she was just a glowing ball of energy then and couldn’t have cared less.
Buffy tossed her hammer aside and was running toward the tower in a blur of blonde. The sudden movement broke Dawn out of her reverie.
Dawn scanned the melee, making sure no one she knew would notice her. When she was certain she’d be unobserved, she made her way over to the place Buffy vacated.
Ben was lying there in a bloody heap.
When he saw her, he did a pained double-take, looking to the tower, and then back. “How?”
“Does it matter?” Dawn felt like she was outside herself.
Ben coughed in pain, clenching his hands tightly in the dirt and rubble. “It’s coming.”
Dawn heard the call as well, so much louder now as time drew near for the portal to open. “I know.”
Ben coughed again. “Then you know why I have to do this.”
She barely scrambled out of the way as Ben lunged toward her, attempting to stab her with the shard of broken glass he’d found. He missed the mark and then fell back, panting.
“Crap!” Dawn stared at him through the curtain of her hair. “Freeze,” she whispered and he stilled at once, panic in his eyes.
Dawn brushed her disheveled hair from her face with a shaky hand. At his panicked expression, she said, “It’s a binding spell.”
She shuffled back to where she had been, kneeling beside him. She slipped a small cloth bundle out of her pocket and began to sprinkle the contents over his body. The acrid tang of burnt herbs wafted up, and she tried hard not to sneeze. “I tried to tell myself that I’m doing this because I have no choice. Like I could explain to you why this was okay,” Dawn laughed bitterly and raised her head forcing herself to look him in the eye.
“The thing is, it’s not okay, and I’m going to do it anyway.”
Ben’s panic changed to full blown terror as she pulled out Spike’s knife and thumbed the catch, exposing the blade. She imagined he mouthed, "Don’t."
“I used to wonder if being the key to something evil made me evil…” A tear slipped down her face, because she now had the answer to that question. “I’m sorry.”
~*~*~*~*~
“Spike,” Buffy snarled through gritted teeth. The slayer looked pale and feral in the flickering light of the gateway to the temporal rift Dawn had created.
“Glad to see you still remember me.”
“Let me go.” She struggled, twisting in his grasp.
Spike grinned nastily, releasing her arms. “Suit yourself.”
As soon as she was free, Buffy lunged forward into the opening, crying out in pain as she struck an invisible barrier and rebounded back.
Spike was on her once again, pinning her arms harshly behind her a second time.
“Only way to get an invite is to cast the spell,” Spike chided, and then chuckled. “Can’t say that wasn’t fun to watch, though. Turnabout’s fair play and all that rot.”
“I don’t have time for this, Spike.” Buffy growled in frustration. “Willow’s gone nuts and Giles is hopped upon some coven’s magic.”
“That’s the problem with you, Summers. You never think about your sister. She’s not a person to you; she’s a thing that you feel responsible for. It’s why she left.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Buffy spat. “I love her. You don’t even know what love is.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know: evil soulless dead thing.” Spike repeated in a bored tone. Not like he hadn’t heard it from her a thousand times. “Just ‘cause Angelus didn’t have a place in his dead heart for you doesn’t mean I can’t love Dawn.”
“What you have is not love.” Buffy said, disgustedly. “It’s sick and twisted, but it’s not love.”
“Whatever,” Spike snorted. “Call it what you want, I know her better than you and I care for her. But don't take my word for it, have a look for yourself.”
Buffy shifted her attention to the doorway or whatever in front of her. The view changed, seeming to follow Dawn wherever she went. And right now she was kneeling beside…Ben?
Dread stole over Buffy. “What's she doing?”
“You ever wonder what it would cost to live forever?” Spike whispered casually. “Thing like that isn’t easy, even as a vamp you gotta give up your soul.”
“So?” Buffy impatiently turned her head to the side trying to glare at Spike. “What’s your point?”
“Point is, slayer, you want to keep your soul, you gotta find another way.” Spike pointed his chin toward the scene unfolding in front of them. “You don’t want to miss the show, now do you?”
Buffy turned back to the doorway, frowning. They were talking, but the words were muffled, like a TV with the volume down too low; it was difficult to pick out specific words.
“Dawn, whatever you’re doing, you can stop now, before it’s too late! I’m sorry for what I did! Please come back,” Buffy shouted as loud as she could, struggling against the vampire’s grip with all her might. But Spike clamped down harder, as if he’d expected this.
“Doubt she can hear you. But listen to her; you might learn something about what love is to a demon, Slayer,” Spike gloated. “And maybe you'll learn why you couldn’t keep Angelus.”
She saw the glint of silver in Dawn’s hand, and suddenly felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Spike’s words finally sunk in: You ever wonder what it would cost to live forever?
“Oh no!” Buffy said in a horrified whisper.
“Watch her as she bleeds the god that tried to kill her. Course, can’t kill a god. But you can kill a human. Same body, same blood.”
Horrified, Buffy strained and heard her sister’s voice, tinny, but perfectly audible. “I’m sorry.”
~*~*~*~*~
Dawn had been obsessed with memorizing the words to the spell, reading it over and over until every word was familiar. She’d been terrified of forgetting one, or using the wrong inflection. Funny thing was, she suddenly realized now that the words really didn’t matter. What mattered was the blood. It made sense, in a horrible way, now, why vampires ate it.
She hesitated only the briefest second before pressing the blade down and drawing it across his throat in one smooth motion. At first, she thought it hadn’t worked, there had been no resistance. Nausea ripped through her gut at the thought that she would have to do this again. Her hand shook as she raised the knife a second time, halting in mid-air when a choked wheezing sound issued from Ben and the skin parted.
Then there was blood…so much blood. Ben’s life gushed out of the wound in his neck like a fountain. It spurted; striking her face and soaking her in crimson immediately. Dawn gagged and dropped the knife in shock, unprepared for the geyser.
There was so much of it. Dawn shot to her feet, bolting away; bile rising in her throat.
The front of her shirt was soaked, almost dripping. And then it was dripping…spreading as the blood took on a life of its own, covering her body.
Cold…it was so cold.
Horrified, Dawn closed her eyes and mouth as it spread up her neck, to her face. She held her breath as it tried to worm its way in through her nostrils and pursed her lips even tighter.
Sparks flashed behind her closed eyelids and her lungs screamed for air. She grunted with effort trying to keep it out, but the tide was too strong and she succumbed.
She inhaled deeply, blood clogging her nose. Involuntarily, Dawn opened her mouth, sucking in deep mouthfuls of oxygen, and with it came the blood. Her skin soaked it in, like a sponge, as she was suffocated in cold.
Dawn shuddered and convulsed under the onslaught of the darkest magick.
Images of torture, suffering and death filled her vision until, thankfully, they blurred together into incoherent flashes of light and darkness and Dawn passed out.
~*~*~*~*~
Spike hadn’t exactly agonized over what he needed to do to the slayer to fulfill his bargain with Anya, but it had been gnawing at him. He figured an opportunity would present itself, and it had.
When Buffy appeared out of thin air as Dawn opened the portal, he seized his chance. With the slayer’s terminal case of righteous indignation, it seemed like the perfect punishment to make her watch her sister take the life of another.
The misery pouring from her was deliciously sweet. But he wondered now if that was enough to make the vengeance demon happy? He’d agreed to make Buffy suffer for the rest of her life. Granted, that was likely only a few years, but still. Probably wouldn’t hurt to up the ante, just a bit: to seal the deal, so to speak.
He knew just the thing too. A little trick he’d learned from Dracula.
While Buffy was still reeling from what she’d seen, he pushed her forward into the barrier. By the time she’d rebounded back, confused and hurt, he’d sliced his arm deeply with a sharp nail. Slayer wouldn’t drink willingly so there had to be enough blood that she’d swallow.
She was confused and hurt, so it wasn’t hard to pin her wrists back with one hand while he pressed the wound to her lips.
Buffy gagged and sputtered, but Spike held her fast. Wasn’t like this was the first time he’d forced his blood into someone’s gullet. She shuddered when she was finally forced to swallow. “You wanted to know what I’ve done to her – have a peek.”
Buffy nearly retched as the cold, wet penny flavor flooded her mouth.
This was so much more than when she’d drunk from Dracula. Sights sounds colors smells…it was overwhelming.
|
“No, it’s too much, I can’t. I can’t,” Dawn begged, struggling. Her arms were tied behind her back and she was kneeling, mostly naked on the bed. |
Spike was smugly proud; Buffy crumpled under the weight of the memories, sagging in his arms. Shame he couldn’t bag his third. He’d missed out on tasting Nikki. Century was a long time to go without.
Spike ran his tongue over now jagged teeth, growling low in his chest. Wasn’t fair to deny a vamp his nature. He’d keep his word, but Dawn owed him for this. He smiled, thinking of all the delicious ways to make her pay up.
His ruminations were interrupted by a tinny cry. His fangs retracted and he looked up sharply. Dawn was in trouble.
“Oh god, Spike, Help!”
She looked frantic, like she didn’t think she could make it back through. He dropped the dead-weight of the slayer; she’d be out of it for a little while, anyway.
Stepping to the edge of the gateway, Spike shouted, “It’s time to come home, Kitten. You did your bit.”
Looked like it took everything she had to wrench herself away and back through the portal. He pressed his hand to the barrier, trying to meet her half-way and then staggered back, stunned by the sudden blow to the back of his head.
“Okay, that was even more disgusting the second time around.” Buffy grimaced and wiped her mouth.
~*~*~*~*~
When Dawn came back to herself, the world was shaking crazily beneath her feet. People were screaming and scrambling out of the way. She absently noted that there wasn’t a speck of blood on her anywhere.
The vibrations in the earth increased and rubble began to rain down around her.
Dawn ducked out of the way of the debris under a rickety lean-to building. Bile rose in her throat as she spotted Ben’s hand. Willow had told her that he’d been crushed by falling rock. Without examining what she was doing, Dawn whispered and waved her hand, sweeping the evidence of her crime under piles of brick and stone.
She told herself it wasn’t like she was changing anything, but somehow that thought didn’t bring her comfort.
The ground gave a mighty heave and Dawn stumbled. She needed to get back to the doorway; it would be closing any minute.
She had just waded into very edge of the mist-cloud of magic, when she heard a shrill cry from above, Dawn instinctively looked up. Terror seized her as she reverted back to that terrible night; she’d had nightmares about it for months afterwards.
Instead of proceeding through the swiftly shrinking gateway, she froze, unable to take her eyes away from the figure on the tower. From herself.
Dawn watched as the struggling silhouette worked her arms free, remembering the relief. But it was too late.
The tower began to rock and sway and it didn’t take long for the decrepit scaffolding to buckle as the structure was compromised. Metal shuddered and whined as the earth shook beneath it, tilting crazily as supports and crossbeams started crumpling.
Her worst nightmare made real. Dawn found it hard to separate herself from the girl on the platform. Even without this agonizing play-by-play, she remembered with shocking clarity tumbling and falling; scrabbling to hang on to the edge of the platform by the tips of her fingers.
Another great surge from the earth, and she’d lost her precarious grip.
Without thinking, Dawn lifted her hand and sent a burst of magic to cushion her younger self’s fall. She knew a second too late that it was the wrong thing to do.
The portal to Glory’s world siphoned the magic, freezing the three of them in time. The lock used the stream of magic as a tether, singing songs to them of agony, suffering and death. The Dawn part of her was revolted but the other part, this new thing she’d taken into herself, wanted to go home.
Then, the moment was over. The wind rushed in her ears and Dawn could feel the gateway closing around her, but still she couldn’t force herself to leave.
As her younger self started her descent again, still cushioned by Dawn’s spell, there was a voice in her head:
Help! Mom, Mommy, Buffy. Oh god, somebody, please help me! I’m gonna die.
The fear pouring out of her former self slammed Dawn. With horror, she realized the lock was drawing them closer together. Time seemed to be stretching like taffy.
“Spike,” Dawn wheezed, barely feeling her lips move. It was a monumental effort to push air through them.
Thoughts that were not hers continued to echo in her head.
Her heart started to pound. If she didn’t do anything, their consciousness, their essence, would be pulled into the portal – plunging not one, but two keys into the lock. If that happened, the gateway would open or shatter. Not much difference as either way, the world would end.
Spike, Dawn thought, She had to get to Spike. Spike would save her.
With monumental effort, Dawn inhaled a lungful of air, thick as molasses from the magick surrounding her. “Oh god, Spike, Help!”
His muffled response traveled immediately though the river of time, giving her strength. “It’s time to come home, Kitten. You did your bit.”
Dawn wrenched the cushioning spell back into herself. She felt the walls of the doorway brush against her as it continued to collapse and she scrambled backwards to her own time.
The last thing she saw before the portal closed was herself lying on the ground with her arm bent at an unnatural angle.
~*~*~*~*~
When Dawn emerged from the portal, she was still shaky and off balance. She hadn’t expected to walk into even more chaos than where she’d left.
With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she realized Buffy had arrived. Her sister and Spike were fighting; both of them were hurling insults, fists and anything else that they could get their hands on. Honestly, the two of them were like a broken record.
Dawn leaned against a pile of rubble trying to catch her breath. She felt strange, definitely not herself. A wave of dizziness crashed over and she clenched a brick in her hand, crushing it, but she didn’t notice.
“You okay, Kitten?” Spike called, as he ducked to avoid a chunk of concrete Buffy lobbed at his head.
Dawn’s lips turned up in a small smile. She hadn’t thought either one noticed she was there, she should have known better. “Yeah, I’ll be fine as soon as the world settles down.”
“Too bad you won’t be here to see it for yourself, Spike,” Buffy said coldly. She drew back her arm.
Dawn’s heart stopped as she watched a stake fly through the air in slow motion, directly at Spike’s unprotected chest.
“No,” Dawn shouted, pushing herself from the pile of rubble.
Buffy knew that the stake would find its way home as soon as she’d thrown it. She couldn’t help but feel satisfied that she’d finally put an end to the blond menace. Then she blinked and the picture changed. “Oh god, no! Dawnie!”
Spike heard the whistle as the stake flew through the air and felt a thud as the slayer shouted something. Looked like this was it then.
Took half a second to realize what he felt was much larger then a stake. And when he looked down, he realized why. “Dawn?”
Fire burned in her chest and Dawn crumpled to the ground.
She craned her neck painfully as her hand came up, touching the piece of wood protruding from her chest.
Buffy and Spike were there, crowding her, but darkness was already creeping in around her vision. Dawn saw their lips moving, but couldn’t hear them. This wasn’t supposed to happen; she was supposed to live forever.
“Get…it…out...” she wheezed, clawing at the stake.
She felt Buffy grab it, or maybe Spike, and then the hole in her chest exploded with pain.
Can’t breathe… Dawn thought. Oh god…I can’t breathe.
~*~*~*~*~
“Well, what do you think?” D’Hoffryn asked, as they watched through the viewing portal in ArashMahar. “It was fairly unimaginative.”
“True,” Anya replied disdainfully. “But it’s not like you can’t expect a vampire to have any style.”
“Letting the girl die would be much more suitable vengeance. Don’t you think?” He prodded, tapping his chin with a claw.
“No.” Anya shook her head.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going soft on me, are you, Anyanka?”
Anya tugged at her necklace, and her gaze hardened. “Of course not. She’s much more likely to get sympathy from her friends if she actually killed her sister. But if she lives and Buffy lets her walk away, they’ll be much less likely to forgive her.”
“Good point. Good point,” D’Hoffryn nodded. “Well, then, if you’re satisfied that the vampire fulfilled his end of the bargain?”
Anya nodded slowly. “I am.”
“You are aware that a spell of this magnitude can not be undone. Miss Summer’s metamorphosis will be complete and irrevocable.” At Anya’s nod, D’hoffryn sighed and waved his hand. “Done.”
~*~*~*~*~
Suddenly, her airways cleared and Dawn inhaled sharply. A rippling sensation crawled across her chest as the bones, muscle and tissue knit together inside her. It made her nauseous, but that came and went as quickly as her wound. All that was left was a blood-encrusted tear in her shirt.
Buffy and Spike were bickering nastily above her, oblivious to the change.
“Stop,” Dawn whispered as their argument began to heat up. When both of them ignored her, she spoke louder. “Stop.”
They both froze, looking down at her.
Spike ran a finger over the healed spot on her chest, disbelieving. “You okay, Kitten?”
“Don’t call her that!” Buffy shouted hysterically. “She’s not a pet. She has a name!”
“Yeah, Spike, I’m fine.” Dawn sat up, realizing that it was true. “And Buffy, I kind of like it when he calls me that. It’s okay.”
It was kind of funny that both Buffy and Spike insisted on helping her to her feet. Neither one of them wanted to relinquish their holds on her as she stood up.
“Guy’s I’m fine. I don’t need the escort,” Dawn said impatiently. “Let go.”
Reluctantly, they did so.
The three of them stood in silence for a few moments.
“And this is in no way awkward.” Dawn finally said.
“I don’t know what to say.” Buffy replied softly. “You’re here, and apparently some kind of evil uber-witch. That seems to be going around lately.”
Dawn frowned at this, but before she could ask what Buffy meant, Spike spoke. “She’s not evil, slayer. Bit tarnished around the edges, but not evil.”
“Ohh how sweet. You’re like Bonnie and Clyde.” Buffy said sarcastically, and then her tone hardened. “That didn’t end well either.”
“Buffy.” Dawn turned to face her sister, trying to read the expression on her face. She wasn’t sure she could.
“Jealous that you’re doomed to spend the rest of your life alone, slayer?” Spike taunted.
“Go, Spike. This is between us.” Dawn said quietly.
“I’m not leaving you alone with her.” Spike shook his head.
“Yes, you are,” Dawn said firmly. “I have to do this.”
Spike studied her for a long minute, and then relented. “Fine, I’ll wait at the car. But she touches you and she’s dead.”
“Thank you.”
Spike smirked. “Don’t thank me yet, Kitten. You’re gonna owe me big for this.”
Dawn couldn’t help the excited flutter in her belly. “I know,” she breathed.
Spike’s smirk widened and he tipped an imaginary hat, before he strode off toward the car. “Ta, Slayer. Can’t say it’s been fun.”
“So…Buffy,” Dawn said nervously. “How are ….things?”
“He’s a killer, Dawn.” Buffy said without preamble, and for the first time Dawn heard the concern in her voice. It wasn’t like she was repeating a well known fact. She sounded sad and afraid.
“I know.” The weight Dawn carried on her soul felt like it doubled. “But I love him.”
“How can you let him do those things to you?” Buffy asked in a small voice. “He beats you, Dawn.”
Dawn paled at this. “What did he tell you?”
“He showed me. I saw everything…or whatever I saw was too much.” Revulsion flashed across her face.
Dawn’s stomach clenched. “I’m sorry that he showed you… whatever you saw. ”
“You killed someone, Dawn. I watched you kill someone,” Buffy said softly. “How can you just act like that’s okay?”
“God, Buffy, it’s not okay!” Dawn cried. “But I didn’t have a choice.”
Buffy crossed her arms in front of her chest. “There’s always a choice.”
Dawn snorted. “Yeah, I guess we could live like you and Angel. You guys are soo much happier. Thanks but no thanks.”
“People aren’t dying so we could be together,” Buffy countered. “I’d say that’s a win for the good guys.”
“I don’t want to fight you, Buffy,” Dawn said, tiredly. “I hated the person you became after mom died, but I’m tired of being angry at you. So you messed up? So did I. Things could have been better between us, but they weren’t. But none of that matters anymore. We are who we are.
And I know it’s too much to hope for you to understand, but I love Spike, and he loves me.”
“I can’t just let you walk away,” Buffy replied stubbornly.
“Yes, you can,” Dawn said. “You have a duty, a calling. Me? All I have is Spike. You need to stay here…save the world.
“I need to be with him.”
“Dawn…” Buffy began, but Dawn cut her off.
“I love you, Buffy,” Dawn said earnestly, “But I have to go.”
“This is not at all how I pictured seeing you.” Buffy said sadly.
“You thought you’d save me from the big bad vampire?” Dawn supplied. "And then I'd come back to live with you and everything would be the way it was."
Buffy laughed softly, but it was a mournful sound. “Something like that.”
"I'm not normal, Buffy, and I never will be," Dawn offered Buffy the best explanation she could. “I can’t say that someday you’ll understand, because I don’t think you ever will, but I’m happy.”
There didn’t seem to be anything left to say.
“Where were you before you came here?”
“What?” Buffy asked, surprised at the change in topics. “At the Magic Box. Willow…it doesn’t matter.”
“Good bye, Buffy.” Dawn teleported Buffy back to where she came from.
~*~*~*~*~
“You ready?” Dawn asked, joining Spike at the car.
Spike crushed his smoke with his boot. “More than. Know where we can get a room not far from here.”
Spike opened the passenger door so she could slide in, before he walked around the back of the car. Just before he opened the driver’s door, he saw a familiar glint of steel to his left. Curious, he went to investigate.
The thing was filthy, pitted and rusty from age and exposure to the elements, but he recognized it instantly. It was his razor, the one he’d given Dawn. He thought about picking it up, but it was obviously not salvageable. Best to leave it alone, now that it had served its purpose.
Part of him couldn’t believe she’d done it, even though he’d watched. His fangs itched to get a taste of her, too.
“You two sorted out then?” Spike asked as he slid the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life.
Dawn rolled her eyes. “You were like fifty feet away, Spike. It’s not like you didn’t hear us.”
As they pulled out of the lot, Spike said, begrudgingly. “Just concerned about you, s’all. You had a rough go of it tonight.”
The weight of what she’d done crashed over her. “I almost didn’t make it back,” she whispered.
“Saw that, but you pulled through. I’m proud of you.”
“Are you?” Dawn asked in a small voice.
“Yeah, I am.” Spike reached over and took her hand.
And somehow, that was enough.
The End
Epilogue
The motel door closed behind Dawn and Spike growled.
She turned to look at him, surprised. Her heart started to pound in her chest as she saw the hungry gleam in his eyes.
“Wait, let me say this,” Dawn said nervously, even as he backed her into the nearest wall. “I don’t want you to mold me anymore, or whatever it was that you were doing. You have to be happy with me for who I am.”
Spike tilted his head, his amber eyes raking over every inch of her. He didn’t speak, but placed his fingers through the ugly, blood-encrusted hole in her shirt. He reduced the shirt to shreds in the blink of an eye and then his hand slipped down her belly to press her mark.
Dawn’s head hit the wall and her eyes rolled back into her head. Her panties were flooded with moisture as her pussy opened up for him and her clit swelled painfully fast. “Not fair!” she protested, panting.
His lips found her neck and he whispered, “Not talking anymore,” as he unbuttoned her pants and slid them and her panties off in a single, swift move. “Turn around.”
Dawn shivered at his tone, turning on the spot, her heart thudding in anticipation.
She heard the buttons pop on his jeans and the slide of fabric as he pushed them down. Then his cool hands were on her hips, and he shifted behind her until she felt the thick head of his cock at her entrance.
“Not gonna take this slow.” It was the only warning she got before he pressed forward, sliding inside her.
Dawn clawed at the cheap tan paint on the wall, trying to hang on as he thrust into her savagely.
Suddenly, he growled in frustration, pulling out of her and spinning her around. “Bed!”
She stumbled blindly for the bed and lay down, facing him. He frantically tore his clothes off and was on her, inside her, before she could catch her breath.
Her legs came up, wrapping tightly around his hips, and she grabbed his shoulders as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Even though she knew he couldn’t really hurt her, Dawn felt a shiver of fear as his fangs brushed her neck.
She screamed as his teeth pierced her flesh, but even through the first wave of pain, his hand was between her legs touching plucking stroking her, turning the agony into so much ecstasy she thought would pass out from it. Or maybe that was the blood loss…she didn’t care. He made her feel so freaking good, and he loved her and they were going to be together forever.
~*~*~*~*~
Was funny that she wanted to discuss his corruption of her morals; he almost laughed.
All he wanted to do was reassure himself that she was here, whole and his.
Now that the masking spell was lifted, Spike realized what he’d been missing with Dawn. Used to be, when he was close, he could scent her some and hear her heartbeat. Not what he got from a normal human, it was dampened…hollow somehow. Was enough to suss out what she was thinking and feeling, but the further she got away, the harder it was. And once she was out of sight, forget it.
With it gone, Dawn offered a banquet of additional scents and sounds and Spike intended to explore every one.
The taste of her blood exploded on his tongue. First blood. Well, second, if you counted when he’d tasted what flowed from the breaking of her maidenhead.
But there was something primal about drinking from the fount of her neck as he’d dreamed of doing for so long. Her blood was so much darker now than when he’d tasted her first spill; less of the slayer in it. And the power, he didn’t think she had any idea what she’d taken into herself. Better that she didn’t, though. Not at first.
Even after the show with the slayer and her stake, part of him wanted to find out just how immortal she really was. He wanted to drink every drop from her, drain her dry. Partially because he was a damn greedy demon, but also just to make sure that she’d survive. He wanted to watch her pull herself from the jaws of the death he offered.
Her heart was beating erratically now and she was moaning continuously. His hand worked faster, trying to push her over the edge.
She tightened her grip on his shoulders, so close now…he could taste the change in her blood. Was too much, he couldn’t wait, he spilled inside her.
Dawn wasn’t far behind. She cried his name as she came, and he had a moment of bliss as the sweet heady flavor of her release flavored her blood. Then his shoulders exploded in pain as she crushed the bones.
Spike bellowed, wrenching his teeth from her neck. He wasn’t careful, tearing skin and muscle before he collapsed on top of her.
“Are you okay?” she asked sleepily, her words slurring slightly.
“Yeah, love, fine,” Spike panted. Her blood was powerful stuff; he could feel it working its magic knitting the broken bones back together.
Dawn’s breathing deepened as she slipped off to sleep.
Carefully, he pried his eyes open. He marveled at the pale expanse of Dawn’s throat; unmarked except for a few streaks of crimson.
He kissed the spot where he’d marked her, whispering, “Love you, Kitten.”
“Mmm. Love you, too, Spike,” Dawn murmured, shifting in her sleep. “Night.”
~*~*~*~*~
Three years later…
“Hey, Buffy.” Dawn called softly across the Via. It was strange seeing her sister after all this time. She looked a little more wary around the eyes, but otherwise was exactly as Dawn remembered her.
“Dawn?” Buffy whipped her head around. “What are you doing in Rome?”
“Oh, you know, seeing the sights.” Dawn waved her hand vaguely. In truth, she’d called Angel and he had told her where Buffy was living. She and Spike maintained an unusual friendship with the vampire since Dawn had helped save his friend, Fred, from being consumed by a hell god. Now that she was here, though, Dawn wasn’t certain this was a good idea. She took a step toward Buffy and then stopped, unsure.
“Okay, not even vamps need an invite to come across the street,” Buffy said with a wry grin.
Hugging her sister was like coming home, but Dawn couldn’t help the small stab of guilt at Buffy’s wince. It was like a neon sign that things would never be the same between them.
“So...looks like immortality is treating you okay.” Buffy absently rubbed her arms where Dawn had squeezed her too tightly.
“Yeah, you know, it’s good. I mean, so far no one’s bowed down and started groveling at my feet…” Dawn trailed off with a smile.
“Not even Spike?”
“I wish…” Dawn snorted.
“Nice jacket,” Buffy admired the snug fitting black leather, eyeing the rabbit-fur cuffs and collar. “It is real?”
“I sleep with a vampire and you want to know if I have an issue with fur?” Dawn looked at her, bemused.
“Yeah, well?” Buffy shrugged uncomfortably, and all the good humor faded from her eyes. “Does he still kill?”
“I try to get him to drink from me as much as possible, but…” Dawn hesitated as her sister’s face paled. “He’s a demon, Buffy. I can’t change that.”
“Why are you here?”
“I was hoping…maybe…” Dawn struggled for the right words, and gave up. “I miss you.”
“God, I miss you too. So much has happened: The Hellmouth closed; Xander died, and came back; I’m not the only slayer anymore,” Buffy admitted. “But still, there’s a gaping hole in my life where I used to have a sister.”
“I know; me too.” Dawn bit her lip, and then plunged ahead with the question that had driven her to find Buffy. She was terrified of hearing the worst, but she had to at least try. “Look, Spike and I…it’s not like we have to go anywhere. We could stay, maybe help you or something. Honestly, he grumbles, but Spike will fight anything and I could help with the magic…”
“You don’t know how many time’s I’ve wished I could forgive and forget. Just move on…you know?” Anguish was etched in every line of Buffy’s face. “But I can’t.”
“But maybe you could get to know me again. The real me, not just your kid sister,” Dawn added desperately. “All that stuff in your head, it’s the monks. What memories they thought I should grow up with. It’s not real.”
“It’s real to me…” Buffy said earnestly.
And although she’d known that this was going to be Buffy’s answer, she was still unprepared for the stab of pain that tore through her heart. Dawn slipped her hand into her pocket, gripping the cylinder she’d placed there.
“I love you, Buffy,” Dawn said mournfully. “You’ll always be my big sister.”
Tears shimmered in Buffy’s eyes. “Oh, Dawn. I love you, too. I just can’t condone what you did. I’m sorry.”
“I know. I knew that when I came here, but…I had to try.” Dawn felt the tears well up in her eyes and was unable to will them away. She felt them spill over and stain her cheeks. “Now you don’t have to.”
Dawn’s hair began to blow away from her face and Buffy looked alarmed as her eyes turned black. “Dawn, what?”
“Forget,” Dawn whispered.
Buffy stumbled as she was buffeted by the wave of magic. Dawn was barely able to catch her before she fell to the ground.
Buffy looked up at Dawn, dazed for a moment, before embarrassment flooded her. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, Miss. Um….Mi dispiace… Signorina?” Buffy stammered in her best Italian.
“No, it’s okay.” Dawn waved her hand.
“Oh thank god you speak English. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” Buffy frowned down at the ground. “I must have tripped.”
“I’m fine. Must be an evil sidewalk.”
“You think?” Buffy peered at it again, and then shook her head. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay…Except you don’t look like you’re okay. You look like you’ve been crying.”
“No, I’m fine.” Dawn wiped absently at her cheeks. “It’s just…There was a death in the family. My s-sister.”
“I can’t imagine how horrible that must be,” Buffy confided. “I’m an only child. But my mom died a couple of years ago. It was awful.”
Dawn barely choked off a sob. She had to get out of here. “Listen, if you’re alright, I need to head home.”
“Yeah, sure.” Buffy stepped back. “Listen, be careful on the streets at night. They aren’t safe.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
~*~*~*~*~
Dawn shut the door to their suite behind her. Spike was out on the balcony, overlooking the Tiber, leaning casually on the railing.
“How’d it go?” Spike flicked his smoke out into the river, exhaling with a sigh. “We off to fight evil with Bitchy and the cartoon kiddies?”
“No, you don’t need to worry about that anymore.” Dawn said quietly, pulling the vial out of her pocket, holding it up for Spike. The insides sparkled with an eerie green light. Spike could feel the slight tingle of magic.
The vampire eyed the contents, bewildered. “What’s that, Kitten?”
“She was miserable, I had to do something,” Dawn replied, her tone strained. “I…These are her memories. Of me.”
She looked like she was going to say more, but then her hands started to shake. Spike caught her before her knees buckled.
He leaned against the railing, trying to soothe her as she sobbed into his shoulder. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll get through this.”
“I don’t have a sis-sister…” she hiccoughed and then pulled back suddenly, wiping her face. She looked down at the vial in her hand, and then drew back her arm, intending to throw it into the river.
Alarmed, Spike’s hand closed over hers. “I’ll take care of it, love.”
“I can’t….I don’t want them around.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he repeated.
Dawn relinquished the vial gratefully. “Thank you, Spike.”
“I’ll always take care of you, Dawn.”
“Forever?”
“Always.” Spike’s hand was a blur; Dawn could barely trace the arc the vial took in the darkness. Then there was a splash, and the water rippled beneath a streetlamp.
She let out a wheeze as the finality of what she’d just done closed around her heart. The pain in her chest was trying to claw its way out. “I need…”
“Know what you need, Kitten,” he said gently, propelling her toward their room. “Want you naked and lying on your belly when I get in there.”
Once he was certain she was in the room, doing what he’d asked, Spike slipped the vial he’d palmed into his duster pocket. Wasn’t like Dawn was in her proper mindset right now. Tomorrow night he’d rent a safety deposit box or something and store the thing in there for her. Just in case.
Course, while he was out, he’d have to remember to steal a new lighter.
Devotion
Pairing : Spike/Dawn
Rating : PG
Warnings : None
Summary: In the future when Buffy's dying and Dawn finds out that Spikes has Buffy's memories.Forladyvirgo1956
Dawn gnawed at her thumbnail – something she hadn’t done since she was a kid. Or maybe she’d never done it. She dropped her hand and began pacing… stupid monks and their stupid fake memories.
Helpless frustration tore at her. Tears welled in her eyes and she angrily wiped them.
Angel had called…Buffy was dying. Not even a mile away but it might as well have been the moon. It was killing her to stay away.
Spike closed the door behind him, back from his errand. He held out a small box.
“Here. Open it.” Dawn couldn’t read his tone.
Apprehensively, she lifted the lid. The small space was bathed in eerie green light.
“You kept them.” Dawn’s heart began to pound, tentative fingers stroked the vial. “I…thank you.”
Spike shoved his hands into his pockets, jerking his head toward the door. “Go on.”
How could anyone believe a demon couldn’t love?
| Back | Index |
| Feed the Author |
