History Repeats Itself In The Cruelest Of Ways
Who: Spike & Xander
When: Early Morning
Where: Spike's room and outside
What: Spike wakes up the morning after, to find Buffy has been taken by the hotel
Spike didn’t know what had caused him to jerk awake. The internal clock that remained from his time as a card carrying member of the undead told him that it was very late, or really very early and he must have only fallen asleep less than an hour before. And with as late as he had been up the night before, he thought with a sleepy smirk, even he needed a couple more hours of sleep before he would consider waking Buffy up for another go.
So, seeing no reason to stay awake, he rolled over extending his arm reaching out for Buffy, wanting nothing more to tuck her back into his side and to fall back asleep. However, the second he reached out and found nothing but rapidly cooling sheets, his heart sank to the bottom of his stomach and without question, he knew.
Buffy was gone.
He didn’t need to open his eyes to confirm it, but that didn’t stop him. It also didn’t stop him from glancing towards the bathroom where the door was open and the light was off. And the fact that her clothes and shoes were still scattered around the room, and her key to his room was sitting on the nightstand on her side of the bed was another indication that she simply hadn’t stepped out for a moment and would be coming back any time now.
He took her pillow and held it to his naked chest, burying his face in the cotton, doing his best to absorb all the heat and scent she had left behind. He let out a mirthless chuckle as the thought of how many times he had done this very same thing before back in Sunnyhell when she had flown out his crypt with a punch to the nose or a kick to the head before the afterglow had even fully worn off. The humorless laugh quickly grew in intensity until it became a full out deep belly laugh. It wasn’t that he truly found his current circumstances amusing, but it was the laugh of a man driven to hysterics by the irony of the Greek Tragedy that was his life.
“That bint did it to me again,” he managed to choke out between his sobbing laughter.
He actually thought this time was going to be different, he really should have known better. He knew she didn’t do it on purpose any more than he did last time, but that wasn’t exactly a comforting thought at this point. The facts where that the hotel had taken her, and he had no idea when or even if she was coming back. It wasn’t even like back on the Hellmouth when she had told him she didn’t want him around. There was no tree to stand under her window at night and he couldn’t tail her on patrol to make sure she was okay. No, she was gone completely, just like that summer. It was his worst nightmare come to life… again.
He threw the covers back and quickly pulled on some clothes, he needed to get out. He didn’t know where he was going but he couldn’t stay there. He couldn’t be surrounded by the room where he had just spent one of the best nights of his life. He couldn’t stay in the space where they had shared so much. He practically ran through the hotel, as if the hounds of hell were snapping at his heels. He had to get out. He burst through the double doors at the entrance of the hotel and into the pouring rain not giving two whits to the fact that he was quickly soaked to the bone.
“Why?! Why did you take her?!” he shouted, addressing whatever the PTB was in this place. “What are you trying to prove!? You gormless sodding wankers, keep fucking with us, but you can’t show us who you are!! You bloody cowards!” he raged kicking at clods of wet sand, picking up large chunks and hurling them at the side of the building. “Sniveling, spineless tossers! Come on! Come out here and deal with me! Right here, right now!” He waited a moment for someone, something, to take up his challenge.
“ARRAGH!” he screamed to the sky, a cry of pure frustration.
“Please,” he pleaded with whoever or whatever could hear him, “just give her back!” he fell to his knees and buried her head in his hands. “I need her.”
When: Early Morning
Where: Spike's room and outside
What: Spike wakes up the morning after, to find Buffy has been taken by the hotel
Spike didn’t know what had caused him to jerk awake. The internal clock that remained from his time as a card carrying member of the undead told him that it was very late, or really very early and he must have only fallen asleep less than an hour before. And with as late as he had been up the night before, he thought with a sleepy smirk, even he needed a couple more hours of sleep before he would consider waking Buffy up for another go.
So, seeing no reason to stay awake, he rolled over extending his arm reaching out for Buffy, wanting nothing more to tuck her back into his side and to fall back asleep. However, the second he reached out and found nothing but rapidly cooling sheets, his heart sank to the bottom of his stomach and without question, he knew.
Buffy was gone.
He didn’t need to open his eyes to confirm it, but that didn’t stop him. It also didn’t stop him from glancing towards the bathroom where the door was open and the light was off. And the fact that her clothes and shoes were still scattered around the room, and her key to his room was sitting on the nightstand on her side of the bed was another indication that she simply hadn’t stepped out for a moment and would be coming back any time now.
He took her pillow and held it to his naked chest, burying his face in the cotton, doing his best to absorb all the heat and scent she had left behind. He let out a mirthless chuckle as the thought of how many times he had done this very same thing before back in Sunnyhell when she had flown out his crypt with a punch to the nose or a kick to the head before the afterglow had even fully worn off. The humorless laugh quickly grew in intensity until it became a full out deep belly laugh. It wasn’t that he truly found his current circumstances amusing, but it was the laugh of a man driven to hysterics by the irony of the Greek Tragedy that was his life.
“That bint did it to me again,” he managed to choke out between his sobbing laughter.
He actually thought this time was going to be different, he really should have known better. He knew she didn’t do it on purpose any more than he did last time, but that wasn’t exactly a comforting thought at this point. The facts where that the hotel had taken her, and he had no idea when or even if she was coming back. It wasn’t even like back on the Hellmouth when she had told him she didn’t want him around. There was no tree to stand under her window at night and he couldn’t tail her on patrol to make sure she was okay. No, she was gone completely, just like that summer. It was his worst nightmare come to life… again.
He threw the covers back and quickly pulled on some clothes, he needed to get out. He didn’t know where he was going but he couldn’t stay there. He couldn’t be surrounded by the room where he had just spent one of the best nights of his life. He couldn’t stay in the space where they had shared so much. He practically ran through the hotel, as if the hounds of hell were snapping at his heels. He had to get out. He burst through the double doors at the entrance of the hotel and into the pouring rain not giving two whits to the fact that he was quickly soaked to the bone.
“Why?! Why did you take her?!” he shouted, addressing whatever the PTB was in this place. “What are you trying to prove!? You gormless sodding wankers, keep fucking with us, but you can’t show us who you are!! You bloody cowards!” he raged kicking at clods of wet sand, picking up large chunks and hurling them at the side of the building. “Sniveling, spineless tossers! Come on! Come out here and deal with me! Right here, right now!” He waited a moment for someone, something, to take up his challenge.
“ARRAGH!” he screamed to the sky, a cry of pure frustration.
“Please,” he pleaded with whoever or whatever could hear him, “just give her back!” he fell to his knees and buried her head in his hands. “I need her.”