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Images, thoughts, recollections...all of them kept filling Spike's
mind, while they continued their journey. He felt they were
getting closer to the centre.
His instinct, his mind, screamed at him, urging him to run away
from that tunnel before it was too late.
< It * is* late, you wanker...you're in it...you'll stop
heta7tanatos or die trying >
If what was happening was anywhere near the level of horror that
he had faced when had stopped the first heta7tanatos, he knew
things were going to get ugly really fast.
He kept seeing those images...he could still smell the stench of
all the demons he had killed...the stench of blood and bile...
And the pain...the sorrow...that as thick as a blanket had
enveloped him.
He wondered whether Buffy was going to be strong enough. They both
were chosen ones, but they were alone.
Too alone.
They hadn’t met any demons or vampires since the fist attack.
Spike didn’t even want to know the reason for that quiet.
He had a very bad feeling about it, a gut feeling which kept him
on the edge.
Something big was going to happen. He could feel the hope Willow
was feeling, could almost see her eyes brighten with that gleam he
had learned to love since he had met her.
He could feel her regret. He could feel her pain and how she was
pushing it aside in order to survive.
He wondered what Buffy was feeling; he needed to know whether she
was going to be strong enough.
“You never told me, when you realized you were in love with the
Watcher…” he suddenly said while they were walking.
Buffy stopped and looked at him frowning, “Well…you didn’t tell me
when you realized you were in love with Willow…by the way what’s
the what with Willow and you?”
“Answer my question, Slayer…” he muttered, while lighting a
cigarette.
“I don’t know Spike…it was like seeing things for the first
time…it was a moment of absolute clarity. For the first time
everything in my life made sense….my calling, who I was…, I felt
in that moment that I would have accepted whatever life threw at
me as long as he was by my side….” She paused, blinking back
tears.
She could still feel Giles…his grief and hope… the love he felt
for her and his despair. She wondered what Spike hadn’t told her,
yet about what was going to happen.
She had a strange, overwhelming gut feeling. That apparent calm
was frightening. She looked at Spike realizing he was feeling the
same things.
She shrugged and asked, “Are they gonna do something very soon,
aren’t they?”
“We are close…the closer we get the worst it will get…it won’t be
….”
His words were interrupted by music. They both stopped
walking and looked at each other, the gallery was slowly
being light by a golden, candle-like light
“What’s going on? What is it a violin?” Buffy asked.
Spike, though, wasn’t listening. If he had had a heart it would
have stopped beating, hearing that music.
He shook his head, while the music grew with intensity and took
some steps forward, leaving Buffy behind him. He didn’t realize he
was running until the sight in front of him stopped him.
It was his room. The room in his household. He hadn’t seen it for
more than two centuries, yet he recalled it perfectly, just like
he perfectly remembered the woman who was playing the violin in
his bedroom.
“Mother?” He said in a nasal voice.
He knew that the woman who had just turned and looked at him
wasn’t really his mother, but it all seemed so real, the colours,
smells, details…all seemed so real.
The woman stopped playing and looked at him. She smiled at him
then softly said, “Oh, William, darling…I did not expect you to
come home so soon from the Compound…you do look quite tired…and
what did they do to your hair?”
“I…” Spike was at a loss for words, whatever had created that
illusion had done an incredibly good job.
The creature that looked like his mother smiled at him, and
started playing the violin again.
The last time he had seen his mother, it had been in that very
room, she had been playing the violin. He had looked at her for
long minutes before saying good-bye to her. He hadn’t told her he
had accepted to be one of the Eletti.
A few days later she had been informed of his “death”. For years,
he had recalled that day, while the music she had been playing had
mercilessly echoed in his mind.
“This can’t be true…” he whispered, tempted to let his demon
taking over …but he suspected that was what the creator of that
elaborate illusion wanted, so he didn’t give in to the temptation.
He took some steps forward and said louder, “You are not real…”
The woman stopped playing and looked at him. She looked exactly
like his mother; there was even the same sadness in her grey-blue
eyes.
Spike swallowed and repeated, “You are not real…”
“I am…because I am still real in your heart, William” the creature
softly said.
“Sod Off!” he growled.
“Make me…being a hero is such a bitch, isn’t it, traitor?” The
creature that looked like his mother spat.
Spike took another step forward hissing, “Don’t use her face…”
“Which one do you prefer, William?” the creature said, approaching
him. The colours seemed to fade, losing intensity and the creature
as well was slowly changing shape…
“Do you like this?”
Spike looked around, and couldn’t help the Goosebumps which
covered his face. He didn’t even know vampires could have
Goosebumps.
That was the torture chamber. Angelus’ torture chamber…and the
woman which was in front of him was Emilie, the first Slayer he
had killed.
“Is that better for you?” the young woman asked in her French
accent. On her body there were the marks of Angelus’ tortures,
marks so deep that even with Slayer’s powers had taken long to
heal. He recalled that some of them hadn’t completely healed when
he had killed her.
“Killing me almost killed you as well, isn’t it traitor?” the
young woman asked, picking her long, chestnut hair in a bun
“Should I be impressed by this show?” he asked, exuding a
confidence he didn’t feel. “These are just tricks, mate…she died…I
killed her…so unless you want to bore me to death, find another
way to screw with my head, because I Am Not Impressed, Drusilla on
a bad day was better than you”
“Are you sure?” the creature asked in a sing song voice, slowly
morphing into Drusilla face. Her hair was damp, and so were
her face and neck, with rain and blood. “You fell in love with me
the moment you saw me for the first time, my Spike…I felt it….”
Spike all but started when he felt rain falling over him.
“Do you still love your black queen, Spike?” the creature asked.
It approached him, slowly circling him.
“Are you finished? Is this supposed to scare me? Upset me?” he
asked, happy of how calm and collected he looked.
The creature seemed to hear his fears because it slowly changed
shape, it was Willow's bright green eyes who looked at him and her
voice who said, “There is a way to stop the fear, the pain…you can
use it, Spike…”
“I think I’m just going to go, pillock….” Spike hissed.
“I wouldn’t be too sure, you are alone, now…” the voice said.
“Nope, he isn’t, dumbass!”
Spike turned toward the voice behind his shoulders.
It was Buffy.
Never Spike had been so happy to see her. He had put both of them
on stake when he had followed the music.
He could have kicked himself for how stupidly he had fallen for
that trap, yet he grinned at Buffy before saying, “The tosser here
is trying to kill me, boring me out of my skull”
“Is it succeeding?” Buffy asked getting close to him.
They were side by side, now, they were both facing the creature,
identical cocky grins on their faces.
“Nah…I’m having fun, actually” he said winking at the creature.
He was hoping against hope it couldn’t read his real feelings: he
was scared and angry at himself and mostly worried for Willow and
Giles.
The creature didn’t seem to realize that, though. The air around
them seemed to fill with electricity, while the creature slowly
faded, losing its human shape.
A whirlwind suddenly formed in the gallery, surrounding them,
bringing with it an almost unbearable stench of decay.
Spike looked at Buffy, she was pale, but the cocky grin hadn’t
left her face. He could hear how fast her heart was beating, and
how quickly the blood seemed to flow in her veins, yet she seemed
the very picture of coolness.
“It looks like we pissed it off, too bad…” she said, turning to
look at him.
Spike smiled at her, wondering why he had ever doubted of her
abilities. He should have known better. He shrugged and said,
“Yeah, it looks like…how insensitive of us, uh?”
Do you think you have won?
A guttural voice asked from seemingly nowhere.
Both Buffy and Spike looked around before looking at each other.
That voice evoked something powerful, something they couldn’t help
fearing, they could read that fear into each other’s eyes, but
they both relied on each other, not to let it win.
They’ll suffer because of your impudence!
“Hurt them and you’ll suffer much, much
more than them, you son of a bitch!” Spike hissed.
As you wish, traitor….but they’ll wish to die when I’m
through with them!
The whirlwind stopped, leaving them in the darkness.
The silence in the gallery was deafening, as heavy as a stone, it
was Buffy who broke it, asking, “What are we gonna do?”
“Keep walking….” He said in a low voice, then in an almost
inaudible whisper he added, “Keep hoping”
~~*~~*~~*~~
Slowly…oh so slowly his fingertips grazed the soft skin of her
thighs, with a feather-like caress. Willow shivered, arching her
head, meeting his mouth for a kiss.
His lips were soft and full. His mouth was ravishing hers.
The pleasure, hot, was slowly building between her legs.
He seemed to sense her arousal, or perhaps he had just smelled it,
because he positioned to her entrance, tracing the outlines of her
labia with a finger, while his other hand was in her hair, keeping
her face close to his.
He entered her hot, wet channel. She shuddered, feeling her
arousal growing, becoming almost too intense, almost painful. He
didn’t move.
He just looked at her.
He hadn’t morphed in his game face, through. She could feel his
erection throbbing inside of her.
The look in his eyes was gentle; gentler than she ever remember
being, his hand left her hair and grazed her face.
She arched her back, against him, silently urging him to move.
“Please” she whispered.
“I can’t be the answer to your dreams, Willow…there’s no happily
ever after for us…”
She shook her head while tears filled her eyes, “I don’t
care…please…Spike…”
“What do you want?” he asked starting to move slowly inside of
her
“You…I just…want you…” she panted, moving against him, gripping
his shoulders, marvelling once again at how soft his skin was, how
perfect it felt to be in his arms.
“I…” he started.
She shushed him with a kiss, breaking it when a wave of pleasure
hit her, taking her breath away.
Their movements grew with intensity.
She didn’t remember how it had started this time. One moment they
had been alone, talking, on Giles’ terrace, and a moment later,
they had been kissing, holding on each other, while the first
stars lit the sapphire blue sky.
She knew that he was going to die. She knew that even for that day
they hadn’t found means to stop what was happening.
She hadn’t been ready to let him go.
She wasn’t ready.
She would never be.
Pleasure, was engulfing them. They locked eyes. She tried in those
moments to express her feelings through her eyes. Saying things
aloud made everything even more powerful.
She arched her head, scratching his shoulders when she climaxed,
followed by him.
Their sex was always quick, almost painful in its intensity. It
was ironic how, although she had been repeating the same day for
what it seemed ages, she thought there wasn’t time for slow
lovemaking.
“I'll try to remember” he whispered against her breast, kissing
the soft skin of her nipple.
“It doesn’t matter…” she whispered back.
She caressed his hair and closed her eyes, while Spike pulled her
closer to him. The night was so quiet; it was so hard to believe
that in a few hours her world was going to crumble upon her….
Although Spike’s heart wasn’t beating, although she intellectually
knew he was dead, he seemed so alive…so full of love for life and
its treasures.
What could she do to stop his death? She nuzzled her face against
his neck and whispered against his cool skin, “I just wish there
was more time”
Spike’s only response was a kiss on the top of her head. The
vampire pulled her closer to him and whispered, “I'll try to make
things different, this time…”
Willow shook her head and whispered, “Just hold me tight for a
while….just…”
<Make me feel alive…> she thought, but couldn’t tell him.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
< Time…time is the key…>
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