Note: I don’t know if vampires show up in pictures in Buffy or not so bear with me.
Buffy locked all her doors and windows, she could see him, taste him, feel him, and hear every thing he whispered into her ear as he ripped her body into pieces. She wanted someone talk to, anyone, but she couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone to call Willow and admit to letting herself get raped.
Grabbing her photo album she took every picture of Angel she had in her possession and ripped them into jagged strips. She threw the pictures into the fireplace, as she watched the pictures curling as they burst into flame she hated herself.
If she haden’t slept with Angel this wouldn’t have happened, Jenny would be alive…and so would she.
She replayed every moment in her head, did she really fight back? Could she have gotten away? Did she want it? What if she’d made him think she wanted it, that she wanted him. Could she actually want Angel back so much that she’d have sex with a soulless demon? Her fingers grasped the cross that Angel had given her, overwhelmed by pain and guilt she wept.
Spike ran to find Buffy, he couldn’t help it, there was something about this slayer that was different, with the other slayers it had been fight, kill, drink, repeat, but with her, all the rules changed. Pounding on the door Spike was received by a broken slayer, her hand shook as she held her stake.
Seeing who it was Spike expected to tell him to leave, punch him, or scream bloody murder, instead she whispered, “Come in.”
Stepping into the slayers house Spike watched Buffy push her golden locks of hair away from her neck as she instructed him coolly, “Do it, Angel already killed me, make it permanent.”
Shocked, Spike covered her neck back up with her hair, and then put his hands on her arms and replied, “No.”
“What’s wrong with you? You’re a vampire, kill me! Please,” she cried as she fell on the floor sobbing. She didn’t understand, he couldn’t kill he like this, when she was so hollow, a shell of the slip of a girl that repeatedly kicked his ass, he’d never known anyone he’d killed. There hadn’t been one time that he’d killed someone and cared, felt pain as his fangs ripped into their bloodstream, never cried when he threw a rag doll of a body behind a grimy dumpster but at the thought of killing this girl when she wanted it, hell was asking for it was inconceivable.
Spike held her to him and let her cry on his shoulder, “He raped me.”
“’s okay love,” Spike tried to comfort the girl who had taken over his world until all he thought about was her, killing her but still her.
“You asked how my days end,” Buffy finally said her water filled eyes staring into his,
“It ends with me crying myself to sleep.”
At that moment Spike thought she was so beautiful, her eyes shining, her hair soft and smooth, so he leaned towards her instinctively and kissed her hard.
It scared her how right it felt to be kissing Spike, but she pulled away, “No, I can’t, leave!”
Buffy ran out the door before he could get another word in.
She had felt so safe with Spike; his cool hands on her arms had sent shivers up her spine. She couldn’t get hurt again. She had to have walls around her, protecting her; if she didn’t let anyone in she couldn’t be hurt.
Before she realized where she was she walked into the warehouse, her fear turned to anger when she saw Angelus.
“Back for more?” Angelus mocked, before she could run.
“That’s not going to work anymore. I hate you, but I don’t want to kill you, I want you to be tortured with guilt every waking moment, and not with a soul either. I want you to pay, not Angel,” Buffy darkly told him.
“Were one and the same,” Angelus whispered into her ear.
”Liar,” Buffy walked over to him, “Angel wouldn’t let me do this,” she told him punching his jaw.
“You’ll never be able to kill me,” Angelus called to her retreating form, blood pouring from his mouth.
“Going to Hell would be bliss compared to what I want to do to you,” Buffy turned around her eyes narrowed at him, “For what you did to me.”
Holding her stake up Buffy stabbed Angelus threw his arm he bent over in pain, “Next time I won’t miss.” She couldn’t kill him just then, she thought she was ready, but now she knew it was all a lie.
She couldn’t go home, Spike might still be there, couldn’t go on patrol he’d probably be there too. So she sat on a park bench where she and her mind had their usual conversation about how being the slayer sucked.
“At least normal girls can file charges against their rapists, if I tried Angelus would just kill the judge, probably the jury too for fun,” Buffy thought laughing bitterly at it.
“If I told Mom she’d insist on pressing charges, then I’d have to tell her I’m the slayer and I really don’t want to have plates thrown at me.”
“I should tell Giles when he’s relaxed, maybe when he’s drinking tea, otherwise he might get all revengey like he did when Jenny died. My friends will feel sorry for me; Cordelia might even shut up for once lost in pity for me.” For the millionth time Buffy wished she wasn’t the slayer.
Her thoughts of slayer suckage were interrupted by Spike thoughts, how he wouldn’t bite her, how he stayed with her, and the most disturbing, how he made her feel. Of course Spike wasn’t in the cemetery or her house he was watching her.
Spike was having his own inner conversation, except his was more disturbing then hers. His demon was furious at him for 1. Not killing the slayer 2. Comforting the slayer and worst of all 3. Kissing her! But the man of him thought differently, he didn’t want to kill her he’d rather kiss her!
“No,” he scolded himself.
“I have Drusilla.”
“Yeah right.”
“I’ll show you! I’ll kill the stupid bint right now!”
“One I am you, two you couldn’t kill her even if you wanted to, which you don’t.”
“Do to!”
“Do not!”
“Do to!”
“This could go on forever so I-you will get to the point, you are attracted to her in a lust way, and not blood lust!.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“Do not.”
“Do too; see your doing it again!”
“Bloody hell! I wish I’d shut up!”
Lets just say things in Spike’s world had got on very complicated.
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