Previously
on Grey Lines:
Spike and
Xander quickly recommence their usual banter. Dawn wakes up alone, neither
Author’s
Notes:
1) Once more I have a song suggestion. This one
is easy and I’m pretty sure you all have it, at least if you are obsessed with
Sarah Mclachlan like I am. It’s “Do what
you have to do” and it’s one of my favourites songs by Sarah, along with, “Full of Grace”, “Good Enough” and “Witness” and “Fear” and I really have to shut up now.
Anyway, for this chapter you’ll just need “Do what you have to do”.
2) The title of this chapter is from a song
by, guess who! That’s it! Obviously, by Sarah Mclachlan.
3) This is, unfortunately, the last chapter,
so make sure you enjoy it. ;)
Chapter
XXII – Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
What
ravages of spirit
conjured this temptuous rage
created you a monster
broken by the rules of love
Her mind whorled and looped
down a dark spiralled path, deeper and deeper into the uncharted points of her
consciousness, when a soft whisper in the distance seemed to ground her, seemed
to stop the inevitable tumble towards lunacy. It sounded like her name…
and
fate has lead you through it
you do what you have to do
and fate has led you through it
you do what you have to do ...
Slowly, a dim light appeared
to seep into her jangled mind. As her eyes adjusted to the new feel of the room
she dragged her head across the pillow she clutched between her fingers,
looking up to find him.
and
I have the sense to recognize that
I don't know how to let you go
He came back, but then
again, he always did. He had, for the last tortuous hours, appeared to her in
her clouded mind while she slept, in her dazed world while she dreamt, in that
cold and dark room when she woke. He was always there. He would always be. He
would come to her, without a word to comfort her in her blinding grief.
every
moment marked
with apparitions of your soul
She knew he wasn’t real, she
knew he was gone, but she didn’t care. She would take anything, she’d cling to
any memory, any resemblance, any words, any sound or breath, any spectrum of
light in her long decent into insanity. She knew the figure that stood before
her was an illusion, a ghost in her mind which would fade away the second her
fingers brushed over him, but she didn’t care, all she wanted was one last
shred of hope to dull the pain that made it almost unbearable to breathe.
I'm
ever swiftly moving
trying to escape this desire
the yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
*********************************************************************************
“Buffy?” He breathed once more, getting no
answer.
Unhurriedly,
he took a step toward a table to his left. In few seconds he had the kerosene
lamp burning and a soft fiery orange spread up the walls, down across the
floor, over the silky sheets to finally bathe the curled up creature laying on
the bed. Slowly, she began to stir, her hands remained tied up around her legs
as her knees moved away from her chest, her neck craned up to expose the
ghostly pale complexion of her marred face. She squinted as she tried to focus
her tired sight on the figure standing next to the lamp. Deep dark bags
encircled her eyes and it became clear to him that she had spent the last two days
crying.
“Spike?”
she whispered with a faltering voice.
He gave her
a soft nod and a smile spread across her face. With some effort she sat up, her
arms hugging her knees, bringing them against her chest once more. She tilted
her head slightly, the sweet smile never leaving her lips as her eyes stared
straight into his.
the
yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
A shy smile crossed his face
as he noticed the familiar black leather that spread over her shoulders and
down her back. Slowly, he took a step towards her and her eyes instantly grew
wide. As he took another she suddenly crawled back, to the farthest corner of
the bed, curling up into a little ball.
“Buffy?” he
asked confused at the strange emotion that splayed across her widened
eyes – fear.
She looked
like a frightened mouse, cornered by a large cat, sitting there, hugging
herself; her large glassy eyes never leaving him.
but I have the sense to recognize
that I don't know how
to let you go
“Buffy,
it’s me.” He tried to reassure her, taking another step towards her. In a blink
of an eye she was standing, clutching the leather coat around her frail figure;
the large bed standing between the two of them.
He stared
at her with wide eyes.
“Buffy,
it’s me… Spike.” He whispered with a faltering voice.
“I know.”
Was her short reply.
“What
wrong?” his voice echoed over the tall damp walls of the crypt.
Her answer
to his question was a shadow of a smile. As the silence grew between them he
decided to take another step and she immediately moved away from him.
“Don’t…”
she breathed as her eyebrows moved closer to one another in a painful frown.
I
don't know how
to let you go
“Buffy, what’s going-“ he stopped in mid sentence as she lifted an arm towards him,
trying to keep the distance between them.
“Don’t
com-don’t come near me.” The words cut their way up her throat as she spoke.
“W-why?
What’s wrong?” he asked confused.
She tilted
her head and smiled at him.
“I miss
you.” She whispered with a flushed face. The tears quickly trailed down her
cheeks and a trembling hand came to brush them away before they reached her
chin.
“Buffy…” he
breathed coming around the bed to reach for her.
She
instantly jumped back, fear pooling into her eyes, turning them into ebony
crystal.
“Don’t
touch me.” She almost shouted at him.
“I-I don’t
understand.” He stuttered.
“Please…
Just stay there… Please….” Her shivering fingers brushed over her face and
settled on her swollen lips as she spoke.
Silence
filtered between them, filling the room, heightening their emotions, the only
sound coming from the flickering flame in the kerosene lamp.
a glowing ember
burning hot
burning slow
deep within I'm shaken by the violence
of existing for only you
“It-it
hurts too much when you leave…” she finally broke the stillness with a whisper.
“I just hu-“ the words got caught in her throat, but she pushed them out “hurt…
so much…”
“Luv…”
“Don’t… I
just want to look at you before you leave.” Her lips came together and she
forced a smile out of them.
“I’m not
going to leave you.” He tried to explain.
“Yes, you
will.” She replied, the vaporous smile never leaving her lips, the painful
frown still settling over her eyebrows.
“No, I
won’t.” he insisted, taking a few steps, causing her to back away against the
damp wall.
“Please…”
her eyes begged him as her tired body glided down the cold stone till she
reached the frozen floor. “…don’t.”
Spike
stopped dead in his track as he saw the fear growing in her, the darkness consuming
her once green iris. He had never seen her so frightened and it killed him to
think he was the cause of it. The tight knot in his stomach advanced up to his
throat until it became unbearable.
“Please…don’t…
please.” She whispered her mantra, from her cornered spot.
The black
look in her pleading eyes, the way her fingers dug into her dishevelled hair
while she lightly tapped her feet together reminded him of the time, a few
months before, when she had been poisoned into thinking her world wasn’t real.
Slowly, he kneeled in front of her, fighting the urge to just take her in his
arms and hold her until it all faded away.
“Luv…” he
whispered, outstretching his arm in her direction. Sure enough, she threw her
body against the wall with a loud thud, crawling into a little ball; the
blackness taking over her eyes once more.
“Please…”
she supplicated.
“Wha-“ he
swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. “What’s wrong?
What happen?”
She didn’t
answer, remaining frozen, glued to the wall.
“Luv,
please… you’re scaring me… please… just tell me.” He begged her to no avail.
“Buffy…” he tried to reach for her one last time, but seeing her frightened
reaction he immediately recoiled his intruding hand.
They
remained in silence for a while and gradually her body seemed to relax and the
smile crawled over her lips once more.
“I don’t
want you to leave...” She mouthed. “But I know I can’t be with you.”
I know I can't be with you
I do what I have to do
I know I can't be with you
I do what I have to do
“Why?” he asked with exasperation in his voice.
“Because
you’re not real.” She answered simply and the smile crumbled; the tears now
free to roam over her flushed cheeks.
His eyes
widened at her response.
“Of course
I’m real.” He forced a grin over his lips but she shook her head.
“No. No,
you’re not. You’ll just leave like you always do… and-and” she clutched her
hands over the leather, bringing it against her chest. “it’ll just hurt too
much a-and I don’t think I can take it.”
“Buffy…
Look at me. It’s me. I’m real. You know I am. Please…” the desperation was
clear in his voice as she continued to shake her head in a repetitive and
monotonous way. “Buffy… Listen… Buffy…” he called and called but had no answer
beyond the infuriating motion of denial. “Buffy!” he finally shouted as anger
spilled into him, forgetting the rules and reaching for her, grabbing her by
her arms and shaking her into consciousness.
“No. Don’t
touch me!!” she screamed off the top of her lungs, struggling to push him away,
but she was too weak to fight. “Just leave me ALONE!”
“Buffy,
look at me!” he ordered with a thundering roar, as she continued to kick and
shout, pushing and pulling in every direction with blind anger.
“LET ME
GO!” she panted furiously.
“LOOK AT
ME!!” he growled.
Suddenly,
for a second, their eyes found each other, locking their gaze as he forced her
to look up.
“It’s me!
I’m NOT a hallucination! I’m NOT going anywhere!” As he spoke he noticed the
change in her glassy eyes, realisation seemed to dawn in them, pushing away the
black; the bluish-green taking over its rightful place as she stared up at him
wide eyed. “It’s me…” he breathed softly.
and I have sense to recognize but
I don't know how to let you go
I don't know how to let you go
I don't know how to let you go
“Spike?”
she looked at him as if she had just seen him for the first time that day. Her
eyes overflowed with fresh tears as her arms wrapped around his neck, nearly
braking it in the process.
His sour
and open wounds protested against the sudden attack sending potent electric
signals to his spine, causing the pain to spread across his body, but he seemed
oblivious to it as he held onto her, sitting on the frozen floor.
Suddenly,
her hands were all over his back, his shoulders, his neck, his chest, as if
trying to test their consistency. When she was satisfied with the result she
stared up at him, with a childlike astonishment ruling over her green eyes. Her
lips soon smashed against his in an urgent and powerful kiss, while her hands
roamed over his shoulders drawing erratic shapes across his chest. Her
trembling fingers didn’t bother with finding the buttons of his white shirt,
choosing to rip the strong fabric instead.
As their
tongues battled for dominance in an incoherent dance, so did their hands. Pulling
and pushing at every last fibber of clothing until all that was left on the
floor was a mosaic of colours and textures serving as a soft bed for their
hungry exposed bodies.
His fingers
dug their way into her abundant locks of hair while his mouth traced the
contours of her jaw down to her collarbone with furious passion, leaving a
trail of red spots to attest to his passage. Urgent moans and desperate cries
crawled up the walls filling the crypt as they entangled themselves in a primal
rite of flesh and skin.
Thoughts
whorled in her mind, leaving her in a dreamy haze where all she could feel was
the soft brush of his fingers across her warm skin, the perfect match of his
weight over hers… the sweep of his tongue over her exposed neck.
With a
swift move of her thighs she rolled over him and he found himself lost in a
maze of golden locks, which fell from her framed face to brush over his cheeks,
his neck and his shoulders, encapsulating them, creating a world of their own -
a shadowy world of yellows, pallid oranges and fiery reds.
A free
giggle escaped her parted lips as his tongue found its way to her ear, tickling
it incessantly.
“S-stop…”
she managed to say between chuckled laughs.
Mercifully,
he released the imprisoned bit of flesh and she sighed in relief; a smile still
over her lips to match his own. She looked down on him and found him staring up
at her with wide blue eyes. Amazement swam in them and she wondered how he
managed to always look at her that way – as if it was the first time he was seeing
her, the first time he touched her, the first time he kissed her. They remained
silent as their gazes locked, the only sound disturbing the stillness being the
harsh pants that she drew from her lungs. Slowly, she let her hips fall over
his and it was his turn to let out a sharp gasp as he felt her warmth
enveloping him, taking him in.
Suddenly,
her eyelids seemed too heavy and she let them slide down over her eyes as she
arched her back to its full extent. Sluggishly, she began to move. Her hips gliding
up, down and back up it a slow, tantalizingly soft pace, tormenting him as the
pressure built between their bodies.
Her thighs
gripped his with brutal strength, pulling him in and pushing him out in the
next instant in a disconcerting ritual, until it became impossible to resist
the urge that spread through her body. The energy that brew between her legs
suddenly spilled through her entire body, bringing to life every single
particle in its path. Her head craned up as she let out a muffled scream, feeling
her muscles contract and relax at a frightening pace.
He watched
her, amazed, as she arched back, her naked wet form ruling over him as he felt
her squeeze him with powerful force, her nails digging at his side and then he
was following her, fumbling towards ecstasy. They moved in unison, clawing at
each other as the energy between them consumed them, until there was nothing
left; just limp flesh and bone. Exhausted, she collapsed over him; her sweat
spilling over his chest.
Minutes
went by and they refused to move, refused to break the spell that seemed to
bind them motionlessly to each other. Gradually, the strength returned to their
tired bodies and he felt her stir on top of him, her soft skin kissing his.
“Umm…” she
moaned with a content smile, pushing her sagged, dishevelled mass of blond hair
away from her face.
Her hands
rested over his marble chest and she propped her chin over them to stare at
him. He lay still, his eyes closed as if he slept.
“Spike?…”
she called him with a whisper and he slowly forced his eyelids to open and
looked at her.
“Yeah, luv…”
“Don’t ever
do that again.” She asked him.
“Do what?”
“I’m the
hero here. If someone’s dying, it’s gonna be me.”
“Hey. I had
to live with knowing you were dead for 147 days, I thought you could stand it
for two.” He said cocking his eyebrow when she slapped him across the chest.
“Don’t.
Ever. Do that again.” She demanded with a dead serious look on her. “I nearly
went insane, thinking…”
He stared
at her, seeing how hard it was for her to remember what she’d gone through.
With a soft reassuring voice he whispered. “I know.” His hand came to cradle
her face and she leaned into his strong fingers as he continued. “Scared me
half to death back there. Thought I’d lost you, luv.”
She smiled
sweetly at him, pushing his impertinent curls away from his face. With some
effort she moved up his chest and bushed her lips over his, ever so lightly,
travelling down the path marked by his sharp jawbone until she reached his ear.
“I love
you.” She breathed and he felt a chill run across his chest, threatening to
take over his entire body.
“I love you
too.” He whispered as she laid her head over his shoulder.
After a few
minutes of silence, she propped up her chin over her hands once more and
quipped:
“Spike?”
“Yeah?” he
mumbled half asleep.
“Where the
hell did you get those clothes?”
He chuckled
back a laughter as he opened his eyes to meet her deep frown.
~The End~
