Annihilated
Chapter
2 of “The Evolution of Spike”
By Chani
“How long has he been here?”
Spike heard her voice. The sound was enough to bring him back to consciousness again. He tried to lift his head so he could see her, but it was too bloody heavy and fell back down, banging on the hard table.
“…and showed up last night. It looked like someone worked him over. I felt sorry for him and let him sleep here, but he drank my entire whiskey inventory before I got here tonight. Twelve bottles!! He has to…”
This time the voice was male. While the man continued complaining, Spike focused on trying to remember how he had gotten wherever he was. It started coming back to him in small bits. Drinking. Heading to a bar that the Scooby Gang didn’t frequent. Encountering a couple of demons on the way there and starting a fight. Finally making it to the bar. The bartender. That was the owner of the whining voice. Spike knew he could talk his way out of this if he could just manage to get up.
His head lolled around on his arm and he groaned. No words would form on his lips. He was just so bloody tired.
“…pay his tab,” he heard the female voice saying. “And I’ll get him out of here. Okay?”
Buffy. It had to be Buffy. He grunted and forced his head up enough to drop his chin on his arm. All he could see is two blurry figures in front of him. Correction, the midsections of two blurry figures.
“…and I don’t think it’s wise for you to take some strange man home with you, especially considering where we live. This isn’t some harmless stray. He could be dangerous.”
Stupid git. He was really beginning to hate this man. Too bad he couldn’t just –
“…too drunk to hurt anyone. I’ll be fine, besides...”
Of course she’d be fine. The slayer could take care of herself.
After some more babbling from her, he felt her hands on his shoulders. Small. Warm. So warm. Wonderful.
“…walk? Just lean on me, okay?”
Somehow he managed to get out of the booth he was in and stand up. He threw his arm around her and tried not to lean too much on her small frame, mostly out of pride. The big bad could walk by himself. He realized too late that he had said the last part aloud.
“…bad what? The big bad wolf?”
Funny. Make fun of Spike while he’s down. How typical of the slayer.
But she got quiet as they stumbled out of the bar. No banter. No snide comments. Just a couple of groans at having to support a good portion of his weight.
He kept trying to look at her. To see the face that he longed to kiss again. But even when he managed to fight the heaviness of his eyelids, everything was so blurry. Too blurry to see. So he just tried to enjoy the fact that both of her arms were wrapped around his waist, their warmth seeping into his skin. He had to revel in the fact that his face was so close to her that he could take in the scent of her hair, her skin...all of it. The sensation of having her so close to him was incredible…but something wasn’t quite right. He just couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
“…got to get in now. C’mon, big bad. You first.”
He almost smiled at the fact that she used his nickname tenderly, and started to comment on it, but she was pushing him into something. A cab. That was it. Either that or a police car. He sunk down into the soft seat and sighed. So tired. He needed to sleep again. But she was there. He felt her get in next to him and heard her give the driver an address. Yes, it was a cab.
The world was spinning. He didn’t realize it until much later, but the motion of the car didn’t mix so well with the massive amounts of alcohol he had consumed. A wave of nausea went through him. He fought the urge to vomit and turned his head toward the window.
“…be okay. Just relax…”
He felt her hands on him again, pulling him into a horizontal position. She kept on tugging on him until he was on his left side, his head in her lap. His hands instinctively went to her waist and he moved his face closer to her. His stomach calmed as she softly stroked his hair, and all of his muscles relaxed. The only thought his mind could form was that he must be on his way to heaven. It was just like she had described it. He felt warm. And loved. But he couldn’t see a bloody thing.
A smile slowly spread on his face as he stopped fighting his body’s desperate need to sleep and sank further into her embrace. He was happy. Drunk and probably dying, but happy. But there was one thing he wanted to say before he gave in to the darkness. One feeling he had to share. It was a slurred mumble, but he finally got it out.
“I…love you…Buffy…”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, his body totally relaxed. A peaceful feeling washed over him.
And everything went black.