BTVS Drabble: I Reconciled the Violence in Your Heart
I Reconciled the Violence in Your Heart
By: Megan
Ship: Buffy/Spike
Prompt: The four times Buffy doesn't tell Spike she loves him, and the one time she does.
For Rita, who requested it.
“I do remember what I said. The promise. To protect her. If I'd done that ... even if I didn't make it, you wouldn't've had to jump. I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course. But after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again, do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways ...Every night I save you.”
And Buffy, despite her best efforts not to, is at a loss for words. The only ones she can think to formulate are three small syllables, ones that she hasn’t said in years. Although, the definitions that sprung from them she has felt continually for others; care, compassion, affection. The only feeling that she has ever cared to associate with them is pain. Signaled by a sharp sting in her stomach, because that is what all of her relationships have ever seem to wrought. And, despite the fact that the creature before her was supposed to be the embodiment of everything she dedicated her life to destroy, despite the allusion that he was supposed to be less then a man, he had saved the lives of her friends countless times, stood by her side for all those years, and never backed out. He never put his hand on the doorknob of her life and pushed it open, to leave. So, as she looks at Spike in that moment, those syllables form in her throat, and threaten to spill out, before Buffy reminds herself that if she attempted to utter them now, they would have no mass or meaning.
“No, you don't. I've tried to make it clear to you, but you won't see it. Something happened to me. The way I feel... about you... It's different. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself it isn't. It's real.”
“I think it is… for you.”
She thought that ever since she came back from whatever dimension she may have inhabited, that she had blown the chance of better days. And right then, that thought still stood strong, because she was well aware that she had made a mess of everything. She had used him, for gratification, for a brief instant of happiness, well aware of his genuine feelings for her, which she continued to rebuke over and over again. And she wonders if she ever actually reciprocated. The sad part is, is that she can’t figure out, although she is well aware of the truth that she has kept shunning, several words that could have been said in that moment, but Buffy knows that if they were it would have been out of regret and pity.
“A knife, now, is it? What'll...what'll that... you? You can't hurt me. You're? You're just a bloody figment, you are. You're just... you. Oh.”
When she sees him there, bruised and bloody and nearly dead… she discovers that it is worse. It is worse than what she thought, then is he had simply been… gone. Because she can’t help the bees seeming to swarm in her throat, the hot tears invading her eyes, the sobs threatening to escape her mouth, and the shaking had not subsided. And holding the knife in her hand as steadily as she possibly can, she sets him free as he realizes that she is real, not a figment created by the First Evil to torture him. Buffy knows that the sight of him vulnerable and hurt and broken is worse than anything she has ever faced, because it is the exact opposite of how she sometimes sees him and as he wants to be seen; fearless and invincible. The words run their course through her brain, and she does say them, repeating them over and over in her head, but for now silence is the best option.
“Spike is the strongest warrior we have. We are going to need him if we're going to come out of this thing alive. You try anything again, he'll kill you. More importantly, I'll let him.”
Or, more succinctly put, “You nearly killed the man I love.”
In those agonizing seconds of her run to the shed, everything flashed in front of her, every moment of her and him. Whether it was the first time they met with the casual Hey, I’m going to kill you, to the countless times of hateful banter, to the point that they become reluctant allies, and to the instance where they sunk into the deep pit of being madly in love with one another… actually Buffy could never pinpoint that moment in time. She knows that Spike sunk before she ever did, however. She demeaned him, held grudges towards him, labeled him as beneath her. And Buffy wonders how many years she wasted on preconceived notions and anger. And she wonders how many more times she’ll waste the moment, to tell him, to let him know that he is not, and was never alone in this. Because she knows that sooner or later, he’ll be gone. It was just a matter of if she could ever tell him so that she could live with herself after.
“I love you.”
And there it was. Simple and affirmative. In that moment that she knew that she would undoubtedly loose him, finally served as a catalyst to free those syllables from her lips. Despite her relentless tries to make sense of everything, the tangled web of lies and dreams, and the breaking of bounds, she reconciled the violence in his heart, and he hers. And, catching a last glimpse of Spike to take with her out of the pit of hell, Buffy decided that she could live with that.
So, this is my first time ever writing this ship, and I was extremely worried about how it would turn out, but overall I think I am happy with it. I have always been very hesitant to ever even consider tackling Buffy and Spike, considering that they are my favorite television couple. I hope everyone who read it enjoyed it, and that I actually did these great characters justice, please review.
By: Megan
Ship: Buffy/Spike
Prompt: The four times Buffy doesn't tell Spike she loves him, and the one time she does.
For Rita, who requested it.
“I do remember what I said. The promise. To protect her. If I'd done that ... even if I didn't make it, you wouldn't've had to jump. I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course. But after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again, do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways ...Every night I save you.”
And Buffy, despite her best efforts not to, is at a loss for words. The only ones she can think to formulate are three small syllables, ones that she hasn’t said in years. Although, the definitions that sprung from them she has felt continually for others; care, compassion, affection. The only feeling that she has ever cared to associate with them is pain. Signaled by a sharp sting in her stomach, because that is what all of her relationships have ever seem to wrought. And, despite the fact that the creature before her was supposed to be the embodiment of everything she dedicated her life to destroy, despite the allusion that he was supposed to be less then a man, he had saved the lives of her friends countless times, stood by her side for all those years, and never backed out. He never put his hand on the doorknob of her life and pushed it open, to leave. So, as she looks at Spike in that moment, those syllables form in her throat, and threaten to spill out, before Buffy reminds herself that if she attempted to utter them now, they would have no mass or meaning.
“No, you don't. I've tried to make it clear to you, but you won't see it. Something happened to me. The way I feel... about you... It's different. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself it isn't. It's real.”
“I think it is… for you.”
She thought that ever since she came back from whatever dimension she may have inhabited, that she had blown the chance of better days. And right then, that thought still stood strong, because she was well aware that she had made a mess of everything. She had used him, for gratification, for a brief instant of happiness, well aware of his genuine feelings for her, which she continued to rebuke over and over again. And she wonders if she ever actually reciprocated. The sad part is, is that she can’t figure out, although she is well aware of the truth that she has kept shunning, several words that could have been said in that moment, but Buffy knows that if they were it would have been out of regret and pity.
“A knife, now, is it? What'll...what'll that... you? You can't hurt me. You're? You're just a bloody figment, you are. You're just... you. Oh.”
When she sees him there, bruised and bloody and nearly dead… she discovers that it is worse. It is worse than what she thought, then is he had simply been… gone. Because she can’t help the bees seeming to swarm in her throat, the hot tears invading her eyes, the sobs threatening to escape her mouth, and the shaking had not subsided. And holding the knife in her hand as steadily as she possibly can, she sets him free as he realizes that she is real, not a figment created by the First Evil to torture him. Buffy knows that the sight of him vulnerable and hurt and broken is worse than anything she has ever faced, because it is the exact opposite of how she sometimes sees him and as he wants to be seen; fearless and invincible. The words run their course through her brain, and she does say them, repeating them over and over in her head, but for now silence is the best option.
“Spike is the strongest warrior we have. We are going to need him if we're going to come out of this thing alive. You try anything again, he'll kill you. More importantly, I'll let him.”
Or, more succinctly put, “You nearly killed the man I love.”
In those agonizing seconds of her run to the shed, everything flashed in front of her, every moment of her and him. Whether it was the first time they met with the casual Hey, I’m going to kill you, to the countless times of hateful banter, to the point that they become reluctant allies, and to the instance where they sunk into the deep pit of being madly in love with one another… actually Buffy could never pinpoint that moment in time. She knows that Spike sunk before she ever did, however. She demeaned him, held grudges towards him, labeled him as beneath her. And Buffy wonders how many years she wasted on preconceived notions and anger. And she wonders how many more times she’ll waste the moment, to tell him, to let him know that he is not, and was never alone in this. Because she knows that sooner or later, he’ll be gone. It was just a matter of if she could ever tell him so that she could live with herself after.
“I love you.”
And there it was. Simple and affirmative. In that moment that she knew that she would undoubtedly loose him, finally served as a catalyst to free those syllables from her lips. Despite her relentless tries to make sense of everything, the tangled web of lies and dreams, and the breaking of bounds, she reconciled the violence in his heart, and he hers. And, catching a last glimpse of Spike to take with her out of the pit of hell, Buffy decided that she could live with that.
So, this is my first time ever writing this ship, and I was extremely worried about how it would turn out, but overall I think I am happy with it. I have always been very hesitant to ever even consider tackling Buffy and Spike, considering that they are my favorite television couple. I hope everyone who read it enjoyed it, and that I actually did these great characters justice, please review.