Title: Inside the Pain (2 of?) By PNS Notes: Takes place during Smashed. The consequences of Buffy and Spike’s Trieste has the Slayer losing what was the only humanity she had left… Spike Before you condemn me you have to know I’m lonely too. And you can’t condemn her. She’s not herself. She’s empty, her filling pummeled out of her as she clawed up from the grave. We fight and we kiss. That’s how it is with me and women. And especially Buffy. You build up so much tension fighting. It has to be released somehow. I got through to her with the realization. She wasn’t right. That’s what kept her from getting better. And Giles hadn’t known. No one did. Only me. And I felt wretched. They broke their toy and then put it back together with an arm sticking out of the back or something of the like. So that’s why it happened. Because she was too broken to be fixed. She gave into the pain and gave herself to me. I wish I could say for good’s sake I didn’t want a broken Buffy. But she was Buffy nonetheless. Not a robot and I wanted her anyhow. I had her inside of me. Against a wall in a building we demolished. Our relationship was pain and destruction. Nothing good could come of it. But we didn’t care. She kissed me like she wanted to swallow me and have something inside of her. Anything. Even something dead. I let her. I gave into her needs. Not her wants. Her wants lay with a real man with a real future somewhere unknown. When it was done she grabbed a cigarette from the pocket of my jacket and smoked it, coughing all the while. I watched her. What else could I do? Tell her it would ruin her health? So would dying but she didn’t care. Did that anyway. I don’t have a soul who why the bloody hell does it feel like I do? Why am I ripped up inside with love for her? What is this? I don’t get it. Buffy He could hit me. I’m sure it doesn’t register as much with him as it does with me. Because he wasn’t the one who wasn’t right. He was fine. His chip was fine. I knew it. I tried to pretend it wasn’t working but I knew. I had known all along. I just hadn’t said it out loud. So here I am. I did it with Spike. And I don’t care. I had a momentary catharsis. Now it’s over. I’m smoking a nasty little cigarette. Does he realize that saying it out loud make me lose the last part of myself that cared about anything? Let me finally blame them and be mad? Madder than I tried to pretend I wasn’t. He’s looking at me. His hair is mussed and he looks stunned. I must look as cold as ice. That’s how I feel. The fire is gone. For good. I should have followed that demon to his hell dimension. That way we could be demons together. I don’t wanna be a demon with Spike. He cares. I don’t. Suddenly looking at him repulses me. He’s a wimpy little do gooder only in it for some sex with me. He got what he wanted. Why isn’t he being himself again? Why can’t he be Spike? And Willow be Willow. Why can’t we go back to the way it was before. He reaches out for me. He wants to help me. He doesn’t see it. Doesn’t notice that I’m lost from his touch. I’m lost from anything. Now I’m walking. Leaving. He’s following.
