Me: BUFFY FANFICTION!
Love these characters. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
The Aftermath Of Prague
To say their adventures in Prague were a disaster would be the understatement of the century. There had been a big celebration happening- a parade, a holiday, Spike didn't know nor cared- but it had been the perfect excuse to slip amongst crowds unnoticed and feed as much as they liked. If anything, the planned excursion was more tame than most of their outings. He honestly wasn't sure how or when it went wrong. All he knew was that Drusilla didn't meet him where they agreed and suddenly the happy celebration of the locals had taken a violent turn.
Even now, miles outside the city, in a large house they had taken refuge in after disposing of the servants who had been expecting their master to return, Spike could still smell the smoke. He could hear the shouts, the prayers, and feel the tiny drops of Holy Water people were sprinkling around and on themselves.
Maybe it had been a matter of timing. Perhaps other vampires had had the same thought as them, feeding during such a busy time, and the locals caught on. Maybe it was the mischief of some other creatures wanting to cause trouble for vampires. Spike hadn't waited around to find out. All he did was tear through the crowds in search of Dru, wanting to grab her and get the hell out of there.
He eventually did, though getting her off the impromptu pyre that had been set up took longer than he'd have liked.
It hadn't helped matters that most other vampires had run off, and so he and Dru were the only main events. Getting her untied from the stake and trying to fight through the crowds was harder than it should've been. He and Dru had fought armies twice as large as the crowd singlehandedly, so why had it been so hard? It took him a while to know; Dru had been injured.
''It burns just as much on the inside as it does on the outside.'' They had poured Holy Water down her throat, she was still coughing it up for two days afterwards. Dru and several other vampires had been dragged to the hills, where even though the sun was setting it was still enough to burn. Then when the sun wasn't enough, they were dragged to the square, crosses and garlic cloves pushed into their skins as the fires were prepared.
Spike hadn't realized at the time, but the clumps of dust scattering the streets had to be the remains of several vampires. How did the locals know they were there? How prepared had they been to do so much damage in so little time?
He shook his head. It didn't matter. What did was planning their next move, definitely getting to a new country, if not a new continent. They never should have left America. God, this was supposed to be fun…
Spike turned from the window. They were in one of the house's bedrooms- the only one with a west facing window- and Drusilla was laying on the bed. She was very still, a different type of still than Spike was used to. Usually she was swaying about, talking about her visions and other nonsense. But since finding refuge here, she had barely moved or spoken. ''What is it, pet?''
''Where are the bells?'' She tried to raise her head to look at him better. ''I can't hear them. Where are the bells?''
A sinking feeling filled Spike. ''Back in the city, love,'' he explained again. They had been having this conversation for over a week now, ever since coming here to this house. ''Remember? We're in the countryside now.''
Dru shook her head. ''Not those bells. The other bells. I can't hear them. Bethany always listens for the bells, cause that means John's going to come up walking-'' she stopped, taking a noticeable breath; her throat was still scared from the Holy Water.
''I'm sure Bethany can listen for her own bells.'' When Dru brought up one of her dead sisters, that was a sure sign she was far from okay. Especially one of her older sisters. It was a good day when all she mentioned was Miss Edith, her doll named for her youngest. ''The sun's going down, pet,'' Spike changed the subject. ''How about we find something to eat? I think there's another servant hiding around here somewhere. How about we go and hunt it down?''
Dru had that far away look in her eye, and Spike knew she wasn't listening to him, but to whatever whispers that were in her own head. She had shown no interest in hunting at all. She wouldn't eat if he didn't dribble some blood in her mouth when she was too weak to fight him on it. She was getting worse everyday, and he didn't know what to do.
At first he hadn't believed she was that injured. They were vampires, they healed quickly. But those locals must've done something more than just the Holy Water and the fire and the crosses and garlic. Something that made so many vampires flee without fighting back, something that made so many die so fast. Something that was slowly killing Dru.
Killing Dru. She was dying. Spike was pretty sure he hadn't felt fear in many decades, but the idea of his Drusilla not being here anymore made him reacquainted with the sensation. He had tried to make her better, brought her blood, tried to coax her into getting out of bed, bribing her with fresh kills and new dolls, but she wouldn't budge. She couldn't budge. She could do nothing those first few days but lay in bed, sleeping most of the day and night away, or else staring into space, mumbling about things unseen to everyone but her.
Spike ran a hand through his hair. How was he going to get them out of this country? Could he even get her to travel? Would she survive any sort of journey at this point? How long where they safe here?
''Yes?'' His voice was harsher then he meant. He had a thousand thoughts in his mind, a hundred problems to work through, and he never did well with interruption.
There was that stab of fear again. They were vampires. They didn't get cold. They were always cold to the touch, but they never felt it. What did they do to you, pet? What did they do?
''Spike…'' her voice was even weaker now, if that were possible. ''Come hold me.''
It took him a moment to wipe the worry off his face and make his way over to her. She had already thrown half the heavy comforter she was laying on over herself. Spike threw it back and gently lifted her legs up, fixing the blanket so she was more comfortable. He sat next to her, his arm around her as she laid back against him. ''Better, love?''
''Much.'' She gave that trilling laugh of her's, the one he loved so much, but it was weaker than it should have been. ''I don't like the cold.''
''I don't expect many do.''
''The cold is biting. It nips off little fingers and toes. You have to wear your muffler in the cold, or your nose will fall right off and you'll step on it like an icicle.''
Spike nodded slowly. ''I'll keep that in mind.''
There was silence once more as Spike ran his fingers through her hair and the setting sun's rays found cracks in the curtain to shine through. The rest of the room was dim darkness.
Dru pulled herself closer to him. ''Hell is cold,'' she began conversationally.
''You think? I always thought of it as more fire and brimstone.''
''Oh no, he said it's cold,'' she said with certainty, ''it's cold, and evil people are frozen in ice blocks and left beneath the lake, frozen until Judgement Day. Do you think I'll keep my nose?''
''What are you talking about?''
''When I go to Hell.''
''Go to Hell?'' Spike looked at her with confusion. ''Dearest, why are you talking about going to Hell?''
''When I die.''
''You're not going to die!'' He sat up suddenly to shout at her better. ''Who said anything about dying? Many things can happen, Dru, but you dying is not one of them. You're bloody well not going to die, do you understand? Do you?''
Tears flew out of her eyes. ''Don't yell at dearest,'' she sobbed. ''Dearest is already damned. Why curse at Satan? He's already under the lake. What's the point of making it worse? God can't hear you. He can't hear you.''
Spike stared at her as she sobbed about more things he didn't understand. ''Alright, alright, that's enough,'' he said quietly as she began pulling at her hair. ''That's enough. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? I just don't want to hear you talk like that, okay? I need you. I'd be lost without you, you know that. So don't talk like that, pet. Okay?'' He slowly pulled her hands away from her face as she shook her head. ''That's my girl. That's my princess.''
He pulled her closer and kissed her head. She fell back against him, her outburst sapping the little strength she had had. She was breathing heavily again, and her eyes kept fluttering as he went back to stroking her hair. She whimpered in discomfort. ''Shh,'' he soothed. ''Sleep, pet.''
''The sun's rising,'' she whispered.
Spike watched the orange rays of the setting sun behind the curtain. ''Yes,'' he lied. ''That means it's time for sleep.''
She went quiet again. ''Tell us a story.''
Spike watched her face as he softly began. ''Once upon a time-'' he saw her weak smile; she loved stories that began that way. ''There was a boy who didn't belong anywhere. Not in the city, not in the village-''
''-Not in the amusement parks?''
''They didn't have amusement parks back then, love. And if they did, he wouldn't't have belonged there either. He belonged nowhere. No one wanted him, no one needed him. They told him lies and used him to their ends as they wished. He was nothing.''
''Is this a sad story?''
''All stories are sad stories until you get to the middle bit. Now, this boy was all alone, belonging nowhere, until one day he got into a lot of trouble. So much trouble, that he was sure it would be easier to die than get out of it.''
''He thought so. Until he realized he wasn't alone in his trouble. There was a beautiful girl in trouble with him, and she had an idea that would help them both.''
''Was she a princess?'' Dru's voice was a mumble. Her eyes were shut. ''She should be a princess.''
''She was a princess,'' he agreed. ''And she saved him.''
''By making him belong.'' He traced his fingers along her arm. ''By making him like her.'' Dru smiled. ''Does that sound like a bad person to you?''
Dru didn't respond. She was finally asleep. How long this peaceful state would last, Spike couldn't say. Hopefully long enough to give her some strength to make the journey out of this country.
He stayed next to her, fearful of making the smallest moment and disturbing her. She wouldn't die, he wouldn't allow that. She had saved him all those years ago by giving him his undead existence. He could finally now repay the favor by saving her.
The sun finally finished setting and the room was now in total and blissful darkness. Even in her sleep, Dru was breathing, the sound unnatural for her and truly, not right in general; her breathes came short and fast, a testament to her scared mouth and throat from the Holy Water.
Spike laid his head against the headboard and made himself close his eyes. They were both nocturnal, but as long as Dru was resting, so would he. That way he could make the most of the travel time in the coming days.
Even with his eyes closed, his mind was racing, thinking about all the different scenarios and obstacles they needed to face to get out of the country. America made the most sense to get to; the Watcher council operated in England, and from what he'd gleaned from various sources in passing the past few weeks, something really had their knickers in a twist. Europe was too dangerous to seek a cure for Dru in. Wasn't there a Hellmouth in America? That made the most sense; a perfect source of power. That's where they needed to go.
As he drifted off to sleep, his mind became less occupied with the enormous task of traipsing across the world, and more focused on when Dru was back to full health, and all the beautiful chaos they would cause. Oh, how he couldn't wait.
Me: Obsessed with these two. As you might be able to tell, I have many head cannons about Spike before he came a vampire, some of them very different from the cannons version.
I hope you enjoyed this story! If you have time, please leave a review and tell me what you think! I hope to write more Buffy Stories, but the Writing Fairy will have to decide whether or not that will happen *shrugs*