Post by shred on Jan 16, 2007 1:10:44 GMT 10
Title: "Bleed"
Setting: Season 7
Rating: PG (for self-mutilation)
Beta: None so beware of spelling and grammar mistakes!
Author's Notes: BtVS does not belong to me, yada, yada, yada. You know the drill.
The cold hard floor was making my butt hurt and I shifted slightly to get into a more comfortable and painless position. I drew my knees up to my chest and hugged them close. The cold of the room seeped into the thin clothing that I wore and bit my flesh. Though the cold didn’t bother me as much, I still rubbed my upper arms, hoping to generate some warmth.
It helped – only a little.
I didn’t know where he came from exactly. I opened my eyes after a restless night of sleep and saw him standing here, his head cocked to one side, a smirk on his lips. I recognized him immediately. He was, after all, not someone who I would have forgotten so easily.
He was the reason why I hated my very being at this moment.
At first I thought he was the same person who took on the appearance of Dru and Buffy many times before. But something about him made him different.
So what is he?
Spike stood at the door, his head cocked to one side, watching me. His white blond hair was sticking up on ends and he had his arms folded across his ripped, black tank top. His bright blue eyes were hard and unyielding as he searched my face. He was waiting for me to answer him but I didn’t know what to say to make the situation better.
“I’m sorry,” I finally uttered.
“I’m sure you are,” he snapped. “A ten year old kid with a brain half the size of yours can do this!” He started pacing before me, anger clearly evident in the long strides that he took.
“I know,” I whispered. “I was just afraid.”
“Of what?” Spike scoffed.
“The pain. I didn’t want it to hurt.”
Spike shook his head in disbelief. “You are afraid of pain? Don’t you remember the time when you thrived on it? You use to kill, torture and rape women, men and children and now? You reek! Reek of love, of humanity, of a soul!”
I lowered my head, feeling ashamed that I couldn’t accomplish what he told me to do. The air around me moved and I guessed Spike was approaching me. I felt him crouched down before me. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.
Spike growled. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have known better than to let you go near her. You should have left when you had the chance! You shouldn’t have been such a fool for love.”
I looked up at him. His face was contorted into an expression of anguish and disgust. My stomach turned at his expression. Something about him looking at me like that was making me sick.
I started hated him. With every fiber in my body, I hated him. I hated what he did to those people, to those children, to the two slayers. I hated him for making me hate myself. I wish I could end it all. All those voices, those memories. I don’t deserve to be on this earth.
Spike shook his head and sighed. “No worries, mate. We still got time. We’ll try it again.”
I sniffed and nodded. Spike reached for his back pocket and produced a small pocket knife. I frowned, wondering where he got it from. The last time I saw that knife it was in the tight grip of my clutches. How did it get into his pocket without me knowing about it?
He handed me the blunt side of the knife and I reached out gingerly, almost afraid that it would bite. My fingers gazed the handle, the cold of Spike’s palm still lingered on it. I wrapped my fingers tightly around handle, feeling the familiarity of it. I pulled it away from Spike and studied the sharp blade. It glinted under the dim lighting of the room.
“Don’t just stare at it,” Spike scowled before getting to his feet.
My attention went back to the task at hand. I rolled up my left sleeve and exposed my wrist. I studied the point of contact, trying to picture the blood oozing out through the blue and red veins visible underneath my skin. I brought the blade to my wrist and pressed the sharp edge on it. The blade bit my skin, then my flesh.
I hissed, taking a sharp intake of mock breath, as a fiery pain shot down my whole arm. Bright, red blood took its time to pool around the blade. Within seconds, my arm went numb, the pain subsiding to a throb. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed the blade even deeper. I could feel more blood seeping out from the wound and falling onto the cold floor. If I listened carefully, I could almost hear the splatter of blood as it hit the concrete ground.
I drew the blade across my skin, tearing the flesh even wider. I bit my lower lip to prevent myself from crying out in pain. I didn’t want to attract any attention.
“That’s right, you pathetic poof,” I heard Spike say. “Let it bleed. Let it bleed until there’s only the demon left.”
The blade lost contact with my skin and my eyes fluttered opened. My gaze fell to my wrist and I couldn’t take my eyes away from the gaping wound. Never in my entire undead life did I see so much blood coming out from me. Yes, I did bleed but not like this.
I bled for Dru. I bled for Angelus. I bled for Buffy.
But never for myself.
I looked up and saw Spike gazing down on me. He blue eyes twinkled with…something. Something that I couldn’t identify. Was it pride? Satisfaction?
“Did your soul bleed out yet?” he asked, his tone almost nonchalant. “Do you feel less of a man and more of a demon? A demon like me?
“I –”
“You don’t deserve to be on this earth,” Spike spat. “You ashamed me.”
“I can change,” I said.
Spike laughed bitterly. “Change? You can’t even hurt yourself! What makes you think you can change and be the demon you were in the past? Look at you – hiding in the corner like a bloody rat. You’re nothing but a pathetic weakling.” Spike narrowed his eyes and snarled at me. “You will never change. You would be like this until a Slayer finally puts a stake in your dead heart.”
“What the hell is going on here?!”
My eyes snapped towards the other side of the room at the sound of the new voice. Buffy came striding angrily towards me. She came up to me and grabbed my injured hand. Her eyes widen in shock when she saw the already healing wound.
“What did you do?” she asked sternly.
I cracked a smile, my eyes shifting to Spike. “Can’t you see, pet? I made me bleed.”
“Are you crazy?” she asked, dropping my hand. She looked around the room for a moment before spotting a rag on one of the boxes. She grabbed it and squatted beside me. “Harming yourself is not going to make you better, Spike. It’s just going to make you even more crazy cause this is such a stupid and crazy thing to do.”
She roughly took my wounded hand into hers and started wrapping the cut with the old rag. She finished it up with a tight knot. “This should do it. Just…don’t do it again.” She nodded towards the knife that I had in my other hand. “Where did you get the blade from anyway?”
My eyes dropped to the makeshift bandage. I watched as a bright red, round spot started forming on the white cloth. The spot got bigger and bigger, turning the color from stark white to blood red. Shouldn’t I stop bleeding now?
“Got it from Spike,” I finally replied, not taking my eyes off the bandage.
“Yeah I bet,” Buffy muttered. She pulled the blade away from my hand, snapped it shut and pocketed it.
“He told me that I should bleed,” I continued, “so that my soul can come out.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Spike,” Buffy sighed.
I heard movement and looked up to see Spike coming up behind Buffy. He tilted his head and smirked. “She’s beautiful. I can see why you like her.”
“Stay away from her,” I cried out. I backed away from Buffy, trying to stand.
“Spike? What’s wrong?” Buffy asked, her face etched with concern.
“Don’t you touch her!” I screamed as Spike reached out a hand, his fingers almost grazing the top of her blond head.
“Spike, calm down.” Buffy grabbed my good hand and pulled me back to the floor. I flopped down to the cold concrete but didn’t try to stand again. I glared at Spike.
“Tell me,” Spike started, “is she a screamer? Does she beg for mercy when you crave that pretty little face out? Does she bleed like those women you’ve violated?"
“Touch her and I’ll rip you apart!” I growled, fighting the urge to bring on my game face. Buffy blinked at me before glancing over her shoulder. She faced me again.
“Spike, what do you see?”
Spike crouched down so close to Buffy that I was sure she could feel him. She didn’t. Instead she kept her eyes on me, searching for an answer to her question.
Spike sniffed her hair and smiled. “Hmm...if I met her back in New York, I would have had a hell of a time playing with her.” He looked at Buffy, a lusty smile on his face. “Do you like to play, love?” He laughed. Spike looked back at me with a thoughtful expression. “You know, I was never the ‘play with my food’ kind of vampire. That was Angelus’ specialty. I like to get into a good fight first before draining her dry. But...this one’s a beauty. I don’t mind toying with her first."
I couldn’t take it anymore. Slapping my hands to my ears, I tried my very best to block out his voice. I squeezed my eyes shut and started muttering, hoping to drown him out. “I’ll never be you, I’ll never be you, I’ll never be you, I’ll never be you...”
“Spike? Stop that. Spike!”
Something hard slapped across my face. I blinked at the impact and looked at Buffy, a scowl on her beautiful face.
“You have to snap out of this,” she said. “It’s not going to do you any good.”
Without warning, I grabbed Buffy’s arm, causing her to gasp. “He wants me to bloody hurt you! I can never be that man again cause all he would do is hurt you and make you bleed. Don’t you understand that, pet?”
“Spike...Let me go. You’re scaring me.”
Spike growled, standing up. He shook his head in bewilderment as he moved away from Buffy. “Oh please kill me now!”
“I won’t hurt you,” I told Buffy weakly, firmly.
Buffy pulled away from my grip and stood up. She avoided his gaze. “Yeah? Well, you did.” She hesitated before saying, “I’ll try to come back later to see how you are doing.” Casting one last look of pity towards me, Buffy turned on her heels and left the dingy basement.
“Don’t you think things could be so much different if you just killed her?” Spike said as he watched her leave. “You and Dru would still be together and maybe you would be running this dive you call Sunnydale.”
I’ll protect her, make sure that that won’t happen. I’ll make sure she and Dawn and her friends are safe.
“Won’t it be fun? To be that monster again?”
I shook my head violently. “No! I’m not going to be like you.”
“But it’s so easy to be me again. All you have to do is bleed.”
No, no, no! I’ll never be you!
I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that I won’t be that monster again. I’ll die before that happens.
And if I have to, I’ll bleed.
Setting: Season 7
Rating: PG (for self-mutilation)
Beta: None so beware of spelling and grammar mistakes!
Author's Notes: BtVS does not belong to me, yada, yada, yada. You know the drill.
~*~
The cold hard floor was making my butt hurt and I shifted slightly to get into a more comfortable and painless position. I drew my knees up to my chest and hugged them close. The cold of the room seeped into the thin clothing that I wore and bit my flesh. Though the cold didn’t bother me as much, I still rubbed my upper arms, hoping to generate some warmth.
It helped – only a little.
I didn’t know where he came from exactly. I opened my eyes after a restless night of sleep and saw him standing here, his head cocked to one side, a smirk on his lips. I recognized him immediately. He was, after all, not someone who I would have forgotten so easily.
He was the reason why I hated my very being at this moment.
At first I thought he was the same person who took on the appearance of Dru and Buffy many times before. But something about him made him different.
So what is he?
Spike stood at the door, his head cocked to one side, watching me. His white blond hair was sticking up on ends and he had his arms folded across his ripped, black tank top. His bright blue eyes were hard and unyielding as he searched my face. He was waiting for me to answer him but I didn’t know what to say to make the situation better.
“I’m sorry,” I finally uttered.
“I’m sure you are,” he snapped. “A ten year old kid with a brain half the size of yours can do this!” He started pacing before me, anger clearly evident in the long strides that he took.
“I know,” I whispered. “I was just afraid.”
“Of what?” Spike scoffed.
“The pain. I didn’t want it to hurt.”
Spike shook his head in disbelief. “You are afraid of pain? Don’t you remember the time when you thrived on it? You use to kill, torture and rape women, men and children and now? You reek! Reek of love, of humanity, of a soul!”
I lowered my head, feeling ashamed that I couldn’t accomplish what he told me to do. The air around me moved and I guessed Spike was approaching me. I felt him crouched down before me. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.
Spike growled. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have known better than to let you go near her. You should have left when you had the chance! You shouldn’t have been such a fool for love.”
I looked up at him. His face was contorted into an expression of anguish and disgust. My stomach turned at his expression. Something about him looking at me like that was making me sick.
I started hated him. With every fiber in my body, I hated him. I hated what he did to those people, to those children, to the two slayers. I hated him for making me hate myself. I wish I could end it all. All those voices, those memories. I don’t deserve to be on this earth.
Spike shook his head and sighed. “No worries, mate. We still got time. We’ll try it again.”
I sniffed and nodded. Spike reached for his back pocket and produced a small pocket knife. I frowned, wondering where he got it from. The last time I saw that knife it was in the tight grip of my clutches. How did it get into his pocket without me knowing about it?
He handed me the blunt side of the knife and I reached out gingerly, almost afraid that it would bite. My fingers gazed the handle, the cold of Spike’s palm still lingered on it. I wrapped my fingers tightly around handle, feeling the familiarity of it. I pulled it away from Spike and studied the sharp blade. It glinted under the dim lighting of the room.
“Don’t just stare at it,” Spike scowled before getting to his feet.
My attention went back to the task at hand. I rolled up my left sleeve and exposed my wrist. I studied the point of contact, trying to picture the blood oozing out through the blue and red veins visible underneath my skin. I brought the blade to my wrist and pressed the sharp edge on it. The blade bit my skin, then my flesh.
I hissed, taking a sharp intake of mock breath, as a fiery pain shot down my whole arm. Bright, red blood took its time to pool around the blade. Within seconds, my arm went numb, the pain subsiding to a throb. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed the blade even deeper. I could feel more blood seeping out from the wound and falling onto the cold floor. If I listened carefully, I could almost hear the splatter of blood as it hit the concrete ground.
I drew the blade across my skin, tearing the flesh even wider. I bit my lower lip to prevent myself from crying out in pain. I didn’t want to attract any attention.
“That’s right, you pathetic poof,” I heard Spike say. “Let it bleed. Let it bleed until there’s only the demon left.”
The blade lost contact with my skin and my eyes fluttered opened. My gaze fell to my wrist and I couldn’t take my eyes away from the gaping wound. Never in my entire undead life did I see so much blood coming out from me. Yes, I did bleed but not like this.
I bled for Dru. I bled for Angelus. I bled for Buffy.
But never for myself.
I looked up and saw Spike gazing down on me. He blue eyes twinkled with…something. Something that I couldn’t identify. Was it pride? Satisfaction?
“Did your soul bleed out yet?” he asked, his tone almost nonchalant. “Do you feel less of a man and more of a demon? A demon like me?
“I –”
“You don’t deserve to be on this earth,” Spike spat. “You ashamed me.”
“I can change,” I said.
Spike laughed bitterly. “Change? You can’t even hurt yourself! What makes you think you can change and be the demon you were in the past? Look at you – hiding in the corner like a bloody rat. You’re nothing but a pathetic weakling.” Spike narrowed his eyes and snarled at me. “You will never change. You would be like this until a Slayer finally puts a stake in your dead heart.”
“What the hell is going on here?!”
My eyes snapped towards the other side of the room at the sound of the new voice. Buffy came striding angrily towards me. She came up to me and grabbed my injured hand. Her eyes widen in shock when she saw the already healing wound.
“What did you do?” she asked sternly.
I cracked a smile, my eyes shifting to Spike. “Can’t you see, pet? I made me bleed.”
“Are you crazy?” she asked, dropping my hand. She looked around the room for a moment before spotting a rag on one of the boxes. She grabbed it and squatted beside me. “Harming yourself is not going to make you better, Spike. It’s just going to make you even more crazy cause this is such a stupid and crazy thing to do.”
She roughly took my wounded hand into hers and started wrapping the cut with the old rag. She finished it up with a tight knot. “This should do it. Just…don’t do it again.” She nodded towards the knife that I had in my other hand. “Where did you get the blade from anyway?”
My eyes dropped to the makeshift bandage. I watched as a bright red, round spot started forming on the white cloth. The spot got bigger and bigger, turning the color from stark white to blood red. Shouldn’t I stop bleeding now?
“Got it from Spike,” I finally replied, not taking my eyes off the bandage.
“Yeah I bet,” Buffy muttered. She pulled the blade away from my hand, snapped it shut and pocketed it.
“He told me that I should bleed,” I continued, “so that my soul can come out.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Spike,” Buffy sighed.
I heard movement and looked up to see Spike coming up behind Buffy. He tilted his head and smirked. “She’s beautiful. I can see why you like her.”
“Stay away from her,” I cried out. I backed away from Buffy, trying to stand.
“Spike? What’s wrong?” Buffy asked, her face etched with concern.
“Don’t you touch her!” I screamed as Spike reached out a hand, his fingers almost grazing the top of her blond head.
“Spike, calm down.” Buffy grabbed my good hand and pulled me back to the floor. I flopped down to the cold concrete but didn’t try to stand again. I glared at Spike.
“Tell me,” Spike started, “is she a screamer? Does she beg for mercy when you crave that pretty little face out? Does she bleed like those women you’ve violated?"
“Touch her and I’ll rip you apart!” I growled, fighting the urge to bring on my game face. Buffy blinked at me before glancing over her shoulder. She faced me again.
“Spike, what do you see?”
Spike crouched down so close to Buffy that I was sure she could feel him. She didn’t. Instead she kept her eyes on me, searching for an answer to her question.
Spike sniffed her hair and smiled. “Hmm...if I met her back in New York, I would have had a hell of a time playing with her.” He looked at Buffy, a lusty smile on his face. “Do you like to play, love?” He laughed. Spike looked back at me with a thoughtful expression. “You know, I was never the ‘play with my food’ kind of vampire. That was Angelus’ specialty. I like to get into a good fight first before draining her dry. But...this one’s a beauty. I don’t mind toying with her first."
I couldn’t take it anymore. Slapping my hands to my ears, I tried my very best to block out his voice. I squeezed my eyes shut and started muttering, hoping to drown him out. “I’ll never be you, I’ll never be you, I’ll never be you, I’ll never be you...”
“Spike? Stop that. Spike!”
Something hard slapped across my face. I blinked at the impact and looked at Buffy, a scowl on her beautiful face.
“You have to snap out of this,” she said. “It’s not going to do you any good.”
Without warning, I grabbed Buffy’s arm, causing her to gasp. “He wants me to bloody hurt you! I can never be that man again cause all he would do is hurt you and make you bleed. Don’t you understand that, pet?”
“Spike...Let me go. You’re scaring me.”
Spike growled, standing up. He shook his head in bewilderment as he moved away from Buffy. “Oh please kill me now!”
“I won’t hurt you,” I told Buffy weakly, firmly.
Buffy pulled away from my grip and stood up. She avoided his gaze. “Yeah? Well, you did.” She hesitated before saying, “I’ll try to come back later to see how you are doing.” Casting one last look of pity towards me, Buffy turned on her heels and left the dingy basement.
“Don’t you think things could be so much different if you just killed her?” Spike said as he watched her leave. “You and Dru would still be together and maybe you would be running this dive you call Sunnydale.”
I’ll protect her, make sure that that won’t happen. I’ll make sure she and Dawn and her friends are safe.
“Won’t it be fun? To be that monster again?”
I shook my head violently. “No! I’m not going to be like you.”
“But it’s so easy to be me again. All you have to do is bleed.”
No, no, no! I’ll never be you!
I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that I won’t be that monster again. I’ll die before that happens.
And if I have to, I’ll bleed.
~*~
Your feedback means a lot especially since Spike isn't my favourite character! 
I'm glad to know he came out alright. ;D
