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Fic: Teenage Dirtbag

Discussion in 'Introduction To The Watcher Diaries' started by sosa lola, Nov 19, 2015.

  1. Ethan Reigns

    Ethan Reigns Scooby

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    Sineya
    This keeps getting more focused. Can't wait for more!

    BTW the inner editor in me says your line: "I can never bare it." should be "I can never bear it." Bare = uncovered. Bear = carry a load.
     
    sosa lola: Thank you
    sosa lola likes this.
  2. sosa lola

    sosa lola Scooby

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    Thank you for correcting that typo. And I always appreciate your inner editor! So keep catching those typos.

    This word is my biggest nightmare. I never get it right. I always think of a bear - the animal - when I write bear, so I quickly switch to bare.
     
  3. cryptwarmer

    cryptwarmer I'm in charge of morale!

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    Black Thorn
    These two chapters are such a powerful, believable inner turning. William embracing his life, and by doing so, himself, and the humanity he never quite left behind.

    I love the way he sees the dynamics in the group and how they affect each member, Willow being taken advantage of, not intentionally, but it taking its toll just the same.

    Xander feeling bad about the rejection letters, but also scared by the acceptance and him losing his role with Buffy and the expense etc.

    William allowing himself to care and realizing he can, and that he likes it, even though it's awkward and painful and takes work.

    There is so much here that is satisfying to read and think on. Worth the wait! Thanks so much for sharing this story.

    I know I will get even more out of these updates when I re read them again in a day or two. I always like to do that and let them sink in deeper.
     
  4. sosa lola

    sosa lola Scooby

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    Thank you! I was so glad to provide two chapters this time. Part 17 was actually the original Part 16 but I felt there needed to be a chapter before it. Also, I rewrote Part 17 because the original one had Vamp Willow, until I realized that Anya wouldn't be around to ask Willow to get her pendant. Xander broke it and Anya wouldn't know that.

    I like the little character touches. My sister - bigger Spander fan than I but she's never into the fandom stuff, just likes reading fanfic - helped me with the changes that'll happen in a verse where Spike never existed, also with a Scooby gang who has a teenage Giles among them. A teenage Giles who is Xander's best friend, I'd say William would try to help Xander in his studies and encourage him to apply to more colleges that he'll have a chance to get into.


    Thank you! But if you wanna reread it, I'd suggest you read it from Ao3 because all the typos Ethan Reigns caught are fixed there.
     
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  5. cryptwarmer

    cryptwarmer I'm in charge of morale!

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    Black Thorn
    Teen Giles!
    --- Double Post Merged, Jun 28, 2016 ---
    A writer friend recently gave me such a yummy idea...to put myself into a fic with the characters. I'm not sure I have the nerve (though...I've done things nearly as crazy) but I would SO love to be in high school with the Scoobies or try to get Giles to ask me to a dance!
     
    sosa lola: The most adorkable stuffy bookworm!
  6. sosa lola

    sosa lola Scooby

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    Part 18




    The air is drenched with excitement because Manchester United are playing Chelsea tonight.

    It’s FA Cup replay match! Rupert displays his enthusiasm with two stacks of beer.

    “Beer?” I stare at the couple of six-packs and then at the man rushing back to the living room with a plate of hot dog sandwiches.

    “This one does call for extreme measures.” Rupert parks his bum on the couch and wipes the mustard off of his United shirt. “Last match was an utter disappointment.”

    United drew a sodding nil-nil with Chelsea in the FA Cup quarter-final at Old Trafford. “Too bad about Dennis Viollet.” Last game kicked off just hours after the man’s death was announced. Cancer is a bitch.

    “The news of his death couldn’t have come at a worse time,” he mutters dryly. Off my look, he quickly amends, “May his soul rest in peace.”

    “He was a real corker.” His finest match was broadcast on the telly back in the fifties. Dru and I had fed on a rich family who owned a television set the night before the match. We spent the entire day cheering Man U. Viollet had scored four goals there, and Dru insisted on meeting him. I didn’t want that to happen because I knew she was going to suck him dry. We ended up meeting the man and his family in the early nineties.

    “His daughter Rachel was a right little sort,” I muse with a nostalgic air.

    “What?” Rupert frowns at me, raising the volume up for the lineup.

    “Tennis player. She’s a fine tennis player.” He’s still looks at a loss. “I need the loo.”

    In the bathroom, I’m stopped in my tracks by the sight of Xander smearing his hair with gel. The dipstick is using my hair gel, though to be fair, it’s the only one in the flat. Laughter explodes out of my mouth, eying his pathetic Clark Gable hairdo.

    He plants his hands on his hips, pursing his lips in irritation. “So I take it, you don’t like it.”

    “Frankly, my dear, you look like an arsehole” – I wipe the tears off my eyes – “What in sodding hell are you doing?”

    “Not sticking around during “footy” time. Learned that lesson.” He starts washing his hands, having a gander at his slick hair, not sure why it evoked laughter. “Just thought I’d look cool cruising for chicks at the Bronze tonight.”

    “Not with your hair looking like it hasn’t been washed.” I open the tub and scowl at what’s left inside. “Here’s a tip; don’t use it all at once.” I eye his helmet head critically. “Let’s see if I can salvage this mess.”

    I pull him down a bit and run my fingers through the thick locks of gel. It isn’t dry yet. He parted his hair right above the temple – that has got to go.

    Xander heaves a disenchanted sigh. “When did you start being so suave? I was the cool one before, you know.”

    I grab a comb and start fixing what can be fixed. “Harris, a cool bloke doesn’t call himself cool.”

    “C’mon, I’m taller,” – he points at his bending knees – “My face was always acne-free. And between us both, I’m the lady killer. Hence, cool one.”

    I resume combing his greasy hair back. “Lady killer?”

    “I got Cordelia. Who did you get?”

    “Let’s clear up one thing here; if I wasn’t bent as a nine-bob note, every bird on campus and their mother would be worshipping the ground I walk on.”

    “Right.” He grabs the sink to steady himself. “I bet you could never get Buffy to notice you.”

    “Please, she’d be the first one in line.”

    “In your dreams.”

    “There.” I take a step back and nod at a mess well saved. “Go knock them dead, tiger.”

    “You too.” He grins at his reflection in the mirror. “Chuck up that beer, clap and yell, “Hut, Hut, Hike!””

    I stare at him. “Never talk sports, Xander.”

    He grins sheepishly. “That was something Dad used to say. Guess it doesn’t work with soccer.”

    “Football,” I correct determinedly.

    “Yeah, whatever.”



    ~*~*~*~*~





    My spirits are high and I’m bloody chuffed. Man U won the match! We’re celebrating in the Bronze, or at least I am. Those bleeding Scoobies couldn’t care less.

    The Bronze is packed because a ‘hot band’ as Buffy puts it is playing tonight. Children getting their swerve on the dance floor, moving with the beat, all hot and heavy. Willow and Oz march up to our table with heavy breaths after what seems to be an hour of dancing.

    “Watch out you two,” Buffy comments at the couple trying to catch their breaths, “One more dance and the Bronze will be bursting into flames.”

    “Think we’ve exhausted our fun dosage for tonight.” Willow looks at us in confusion. “Why aren’t you guys boogying?”

    “I’m waiting for Angel.” Buffy leans forwards to take a sip from her fizzy drink. “He said he’ll be here.”

    Willow attempts to smirk, but it comes out like a quirked beam. “You and Angel are getting steamy again?”

    Buffy shakes her head in alarm. “No. No steamy-ness in the works. We’re keeping things on the innocent side.” A dopey grin takes over her face. “He’s taking me to see a movie tomorrow night.”

    Willow returns her grin with a bigger one. Xander and I share an unamused look. Oz just looks.

    “Hey, you ditched the Nazi hair?” Cordelia approaches our table, looking more glamorous than usual. Willow can take tips from that glossy smirk.

    “And I see you’ve out-whored yourself tonight.” Xander looks her up and down in disdain. Her dress is snuggly but not a bit revealing.

    She rolls her eyes. “Gee, your creativity doesn’t exceed the whore jokes. A guy with your IQ should have a low voice, too.”

    “Guess you haven’t heard, but I did get into a college.” He straightens up in his seat, all smug and important. “A very fine one at that.”

    Everyone turns their attention back to Cordelia. The endless battle of wits between these two is our main source of amusement.

    “That’s super.” Cordelia’s eyes widen with anything but impressed. “Hope it was on a scholarship ‘cause your mom’s cashier job won’t cover the expenses.”

    Xander stares at her, trying to think up a comeback but taking too long. She gives a victory nod and struts away. He sits back with a sigh. “Man, why can’t she leave me alone?”

    “Because you were an unfaithful two-timing pillock,” I provide helpfully. Buffy stifles her giggles.

    “Yeah, but that was months ago.” He indicates at the snogging love birds at our table. “Oz isn’t throwing cheap shots at Willow.”

    “Here’s a wild idea; why don’t you apologize?” Xander scoffs. “Maybe she’ll stop pulling your plonker.” He chooses to gulp his Coke. I look at Buffy, and she shakes her head.

    The band starts playing a new song; a ballad this time. High schoolers interlock and sway to the slow rhythm. I spot Willow casting mooneyes at Wolf Boy. He takes her hand and helps her up to her feet.

    She stops in her place, eyes on the dance floor. “Oh, guys, check out Larry.”

    Clad in head to toe black, Larry is resting his head on another boy’s shoulder. They dip within the beat, bodies moving leisurely against each other.

    “His date looks steamy.” Buffy acknowledges in approval.

    Willow glances at me with worry. I reassure her with a swift smile.

    “Oh, my steamy date is here.” Buffy leaves her seat and heads for the Bronze entrance where Angel stands like a fish out of water.

    Willow and Oz have already joined the twirling couples when I notice Xander staring at something on the floor. The glistening blade of a pocket knife under the empty table next to ours. It captures the boy’s penetrating gaze and enthralls him.

    Breath caught in my throat, I feel the club settling into immobility and silence. Everything seizes to exist and sounds blur into a constant din.

    He gets up. He walks towards it. I hear nothing but my heartbeat drumming in my ears. Don’t put it in your pocket. Don’t put it in your pocket. Rupert had just complimented him this morning. He told me I was right; that Xander didn’t need professional help.

    The boy kneels to draw the knife from under the table. Don’t put it in your pocket. Don’t put it in your pocket.

    He stares at it, his thumb as if feeling the sharp edge of the blade, and I’m about to do my nut.

    “Has anyone lost a pocket knife?” Xander holds it up, eyes search about the club for the owner. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Good boy.

    “Thanks, man, that’s mine.” Larry’s lean and charming date runs up to Xander. Buffy’s right. He does look steamy with his sandy blonde mop of hair and ocean blue eyes. If you go for that kind of Nancy.

    Larry approaches with a shy shuffle. “Hey, Xander.”

    “Hey, man.”

    He looks between me and Harris. “I didn’t see you on the dance floor.”

    “I’m not in the mood for a solo-groove, which I’m very famous for. Just need to find a hot babe who’ll agree to shake booties all night long.”

    “A hot babe?” Larry furrows his eyebrows.

    I rush into the scene and drape an arm around Larry’s beefy shoulders, leading him to our table and away from Xander. “Boy hasn’t left the closet.”

    “Still?” Larry exclaims in shock.

    Shrugging, I take a fleeting look at Sandy now showing Xander the brand of his knife. “So, got yourself a new bo?”

    “Yeah.” Larry gazes at the boy as well. “Does it make you jealous?”

    I twirl towards him. “What?”

    “Tellus,” he modifies. “A Roman goddess. Pete reminds me of… her,” the last word comes out in a painful groan.

    I give an understanding head tilt. “He does have a mother Earth quality to him.”

    “Okay, then, I’ll just… leave.” Ducking his head in embarrassment, he tries to escape towards his boy.

    “Larry,” I call after the poor lad. Of all the people I messed with, he had it worst, and he’s not half bad. “I’m glad to see you happy.”

    He gives a broad grin. “Thanks.” His grin softens and his eyes glint in sincerity. “Hope Xander gets the stick out of his ass and realize he’s missing out on something special.”

    I have no response to that. Just glance at the numpty in question; an ear to ear beam and spouting some geeky tosh to Larry’s interested boyfriend. It does put a smile on my lips. Face it, Spike, you like the git, warts and all.


    ~*~*~*~
     
  7. Ethan Reigns

    Ethan Reigns Scooby

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    Sineya
    Another great episode! This looks like it is moving a bit quicker now. The great thing is, it is moving faster but I still can't see where you are taking it, so the suspense mounts!

    My inner editor / wet blanket says that "everything seizes to exist" should be "everything ceases to exist".
     
  8. sosa lola

    sosa lola Scooby

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    Thank you, editor!!

    It's gonna move a bit fast because the ending is near. There will be some twists along the way that you won't expect.
    --- Double Post Merged, Jul 4, 2016 ---
    It is a bit tricky. Self-insert characters don't usually work well. And end up being Mary Sues. But it'd be fun seeing the character depicted as a real person with imperfections. Now don't hog Giles, we must share. :D
     
  9. cryptwarmer

    cryptwarmer I'm in charge of morale!

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    Black Thorn
    Well....how about this. You have Spike from a different dimension zapped into this one in a different Williams place, so maybe I should zap me into the Buffy dimension taking one of their places? I would be a SO much better boyfriend to Buffy than Riley! :p
     
    sosa lola: So, you'll take Riley's place? Do you know anything about military? 'Cause Walsh knows her Riley well. :D
  10. sosa lola

    sosa lola Scooby

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    Part 18



    [​IMG]
    Made by Tickyboxes






    The air is drenched with excitement because Manchester United are playing Chelsea tonight.

    It’s FA Cup replay match! Rupert displays his enthusiasm with two stacks of beer.

    “Beer?” I stare at the couple of six-packs and then at the man rushing back to the living room with a plate of hot dog sandwiches.

    “This one does call for extreme measures.” Rupert parks his bum on the couch and wipes the mustard off of his United shirt. “Last match was an utter disappointment.”

    United drew a sodding nil-nil with Chelsea in the FA Cup quarter-final at Old Trafford. “Too bad about Dennis Viollet.” Last game kicked off just hours after the man’s death was announced. Cancer is a bitch.

    “The news of his death couldn’t have come at a worse time,” he mutters dryly. Off my look, he quickly amends, “May his soul rest in peace.”

    “He was a real corker.” His finest match was broadcast on the telly back in the fifties. Dru and I had fed on a rich family who owned a television set the night before the match. We spent the entire day cheering Man U. Viollet had scored four goals there, and Dru insisted on meeting him. I didn’t want that to happen because I knew she was going to suck him dry. We ended up meeting the man and his family in the early nineties.

    “His daughter Rachel was a right little sort,” I muse with a nostalgic air.

    “What?” Rupert frowns at me, raising the volume up for the lineup.

    “Tennis player. She’s a fine tennis player.” He’s still looks at a loss. “I need the loo.”

    In the bathroom, I’m stopped in my tracks by the sight of Xander smearing his hair with gel. The dipstick is using my hair gel, though to be fair, it’s the only one in the flat. Laughter explodes out of my mouth, eying his pathetic Clark Gable hairdo.

    He plants his hands on his hips, pursing his lips in irritation. “So I take it, you don’t like it.”

    “Frankly, my dear, you look like an arsehole” – I wipe the tears off my eyes – “What in sodding hell are you doing?”

    “Not sticking around during “footy” time. Learned that lesson.” He starts washing his hands, having a gander at his slick hair, not sure why it evoked laughter. “Just thought I’d look cool cruising for chicks at the Bronze tonight.”

    “Not with your hair looking like it hasn’t been washed.” I open the tub and scowl at what’s left inside. “Here’s a tip; don’t use it all at once.” I eye his helmet head critically. “Let’s see if I can salvage this mess.”

    I pull him down a bit and run my fingers through the thick locks of gel. It isn’t dry yet. He parted his hair right above the temple – that has got to go.

    Xander heaves a disenchanted sigh. “When did you start being so suave? I was the cool one before, you know.”

    I grab a comb and start fixing what can be fixed. “Harris, a cool bloke doesn’t call himself cool.”

    “C’mon, I’m taller,” – he points at his bending knees – “My face was always acne-free. And between us both, I’m the lady killer. Hence, cool one.”

    I resume combing his greasy hair back. “Lady killer?”

    “I got Cordelia. Who did you get?”

    “Let’s clear up one thing here; if I wasn’t bent as a nine-bob note, every bird on campus and their mother would be worshipping the ground I walk on.”

    “Right.” He grabs the sink to steady himself. “I bet you could never get Buffy to notice you.”

    “Please, she’d be the first one in line.”

    “In your dreams.”

    “There.” I take a step back and nod at a mess well saved. “Go knock them dead, tiger.”

    “You too.” He grins at his reflection in the mirror. “Chuck up that beer, clap and yell, “Hut, Hut, Hike!””

    I stare at him. “Never talk sports, Xander.”

    He grins sheepishly. “That was something Dad used to say. Guess it doesn’t work with soccer.”

    “Football,” I correct determinedly.

    “Yeah, whatever.”



    ~*~*~*~*~





    My spirits are high and I’m bloody chuffed. Man U won the match! We’re celebrating in the Bronze, or at least I am. Those bleeding Scoobies couldn’t care less.

    The Bronze is packed because a ‘hot band’ as Buffy puts it is playing tonight. Children getting their swerve on the dance floor, moving with the beat, all hot and heavy. Willow and Oz march up to our table with heavy breaths after what seems to be an hour of dancing.

    “Watch out you two,” Buffy comments at the couple trying to catch their breaths, “One more dance and the Bronze will be bursting into flames.”

    “Think we’ve exhausted our fun dosage for tonight.” Willow looks at us in confusion. “Why aren’t you guys boogying?”

    “I’m waiting for Angel.” Buffy leans forwards to take a sip from her fizzy drink. “He said he’ll be here.”

    Willow attempts to smirk, but it comes out like a quirked beam. “You and Angel are getting steamy again?”

    Buffy shakes her head in alarm. “No. No steamy-ness in the works. We’re keeping things on the innocent side.” A dopey grin takes over her face. “He’s taking me to see a movie tomorrow night.”

    Willow returns her grin with a bigger one. Xander and I share an unamused look. Oz just looks.

    “Hey, you ditched the Nazi hair?” Cordelia approaches our table, looking more glamorous than usual. Willow can take tips from that glossy smirk.

    “And I see you’ve out-whored yourself tonight.” Xander looks her up and down in disdain. Her dress is snuggly but not a bit revealing.

    She rolls her eyes. “Gee, your creativity doesn’t exceed the whore jokes. A guy with your IQ should have a low voice, too.”

    “Guess you haven’t heard, but I did get into a college.” He straightens up in his seat, all smug and important. “A very fine one at that.”

    Everyone turns their attention back to Cordelia. The endless battle of wits between these two is our main source of amusement.

    “That’s super.” Cordelia’s eyes widen with anything but impressed. “Hope it was on a scholarship ‘cause your mom’s cashier job won’t cover the expenses.”

    Xander stares at her, trying to think up a comeback but taking too long. She gives a victory nod and struts away. He sits back with a sigh. “Man, why can’t she leave me alone?”

    “Because you were an unfaithful two-timing pillock,” I provide helpfully. Buffy stifles her giggles.

    “Yeah, but that was months ago.” He indicates at the snogging love birds at our table. “Oz isn’t throwing cheap shots at Willow.”

    “Here’s a wild idea; why don’t you apologize?” Xander scoffs. “Maybe she’ll stop pulling your plonker.” He chooses to gulp his Coke. I look at Buffy, and she shakes her head.

    The band starts playing a new song; a ballad this time. High schoolers interlock and sway to the slow rhythm. I spot Willow casting mooneyes at Wolf Boy. He takes her hand and helps her up to her feet.

    She stops in her place, eyes on the dance floor. “Oh, guys, check out Larry.”

    Clad in head to toe black, Larry is resting his head on another boy’s shoulder. They dip within the beat, bodies moving leisurely against each other.

    “His date looks steamy.” Buffy acknowledges in approval.

    Willow glances at me with worry. I reassure her with a swift smile.

    “Oh, my steamy date is here.” Buffy leaves her seat and heads for the Bronze entrance where Angel stands like a fish out of water.

    Willow and Oz have already joined the twirling couples when I notice Xander staring at something on the floor. The glistening blade of a pocket knife under the empty table next to ours. It captures the boy’s penetrating gaze and enthralls him.

    Breath caught in my throat, I feel the club settling into immobility and silence. Everything ceases to exist and sounds blur into a constant din.

    He gets up. He walks towards it. I hear nothing but my heartbeat drumming in my ears. Don’t put it in your pocket. Don’t put it in your pocket. Rupert had just complimented him this morning. He told me I was right; that Xander didn’t need professional help.

    The boy kneels to draw the knife from under the table. Don’t put it in your pocket. Don’t put it in your pocket.

    He stares at it, his thumb as if feeling the sharp edge of the blade, and I’m about to do my nut.

    “Has anyone lost a pocket knife?” Xander holds it up, eyes search about the club for the owner. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Good boy.

    “Thanks, man, that’s mine.” Larry’s lean and charming date runs up to Xander. Buffy’s right. He does look steamy with his sandy blonde mop of hair and ocean blue eyes. If you go for that kind of Nancy.

    Larry approaches with a shy shuffle. “Hey, Xander.”

    “Hey, man.”

    He looks between me and Harris. “I didn’t see you on the dance floor.”

    “I’m not in the mood for a solo-groove, which I’m very famous for. Just need to find a hot babe who’ll agree to shake booties all night long.”

    “A hot babe?” Larry furrows his eyebrows.

    I rush into the scene and drape an arm around Larry’s beefy shoulders, leading him to our table and away from Xander. “Boy hasn’t left the closet.”

    “Still?” Larry exclaims in shock.

    Shrugging, I take a fleeting look at Sandy now showing Xander the brand of his knife. “So, got yourself a new bo?”

    “Yeah.” Larry gazes at the boy as well. “Does it make you jealous?”

    I twirl towards him. “What?”

    “Tellus,” he modifies. “A Roman goddess. Pete reminds me of… her,” the last word comes out in a painful groan.

    I give an understanding head tilt. “He does have a mother Earth quality to him.”

    “Okay, then, I’ll just… leave.” Ducking his head in embarrassment, he tries to escape towards his boy.

    “Larry,” I call after the poor lad. Of all the people I messed with, he had it worst, and he’s not half bad. “I’m glad to see you happy.”

    He gives a broad grin. “Thanks.” His grin softens and his eyes glint in sincerity. “Hope Xander gets the stick out of his ass and realize he’s missing out on something special.”

    I have no response to that. Just glance at the numpty in question; an ear to ear beam and spouting some geeky tosh to Larry’s interested boyfriend. It does put a smile on my lips. Face it, Spike, you like the git, warts and all.


    ~*~*~*~


    Reposting with the correction. Also, Part 19 will be posted tomorrow. :)
     
  11. sosa lola

    sosa lola Scooby

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    Part 19




    Where the hell did he go?

    Striding down the deserted streets of some depraved neighborhood, scanning every corner for a gangling, monkey-eared twit with a death wish. I can’t believe Rupert allowed him to run off on his own like that. He knows the kid is a loose cannon. I shouldn’t have volunteered to look for the basket case slayer in the first place. This is what I get for doing something nice for Buffy. She can’t stand the sight of that chit, not when she seems to be chatting up her humdrum boyfriend, and as a rule I had to be all noble and sacrificing.

    If I’d been there, I’d have dragged the wanker by his Dumbo ear to join Oz and the others at the Halls of Records. I know he didn’t want to be saddled up in a van with Cordelia and her new object of interest. Must sting seeing her flirt with the uptight watcher.

    A sudden chill sweeps through me when hearing a low growl nearby. I reach for my stake and approach carefully. That’s what I need; being an early vampire snack all thanks to bleeding Harris. I spot a lanky vampire looming over what appears to be an unconscious body.

    Of course, it’s Xander! That miserable prick has lost his marbles!

    Lanky there turns around and sees me, must have picked up on my quickening heartbeats. He looks between me and Xander, and then flashes his glistening fangs at me. Either Xander is dead or Mr. Fangface wants two fresh supplies of blood for dinner tonight, and Xander isn’t going anywhere.

    He strikes. I lurch backwards. He’s too thin. I think I can take him. Except that he’s pinning me to the ground now. Still can’t get a handle of my weak and slow limbs. All that time slacking off in the library, should have put it to good use and had a training or two with Buffy.

    He shows off his really white fangs. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I spit on him!

    He recoils in disgust and it gives me enough time to pull myself from under him. With a firm grip on my stake, I thrust it right through his heart. I don’t wait for him to burst into dust, instead I scuttle over towards Xander.

    His chest rises and falls, so he’s not dead. He’s just sleeping, I realize with a sweltering desire to paste him. We were doing so well. He’s finally at a stage where he can use a knife to cut a Sunday roast without getting that wistful glint in his eyes.

    I grab him by the shoulders and start shaking him hard. “Rise and shine, you sad git.”

    He stirs awake. “William?”

    I catch myself from beating him to a bloody pulp. “How could you do this? After everything we did for you!

    He winces, his fingers reaching for his jaw. Eyes squeezed shut. “Slow down. I’m having a case of numbness all over my face.”

    I pull him up by the collar and look him down. “You were gonna have a case of dead if I wasn’t here!”

    “Dead?” he repeats faintly, wincing some more, then his eyes fly open, “Did you fight Angel?”

    “What’s Angel got to do with it?”

    “He’s back. In the really bad sense.” He pushes my hands away and tries to sit straight, his hand rubbing his jaw. “You didn’t see him?”

    “No.” So, Xander wasn’t trying to have himself killed. Angel did this to him? Angel lost his sodding soul?

    “Then what were you yelling ab…?” he pauses, anger gusting in his eyes. “You thought I was lying here on purpose?”

    I brush my hand over my gelled head bashfully. “I’m sorry. I was too pissed off I didn’t think.” I help him up and notice the anger in his eyes has diminished.

    “I’d be really offended if there wasn’t a crisis more important right now. Guess who’s Angel’s new playmate?”

    “Faith?” I guess with wide eyes.

    He nods.

    We stare at each other in alarm then start running back to the school.



    ~*~*~*~*~



    My feelings right now can be summed up by Wesley’s indignant rant.

    “Well, I for one protest.” Wesley meets Rupert at the library stairs, face flushed with incensed anger. “You pitted Slayer against Slayer in a dangerous charade that could've gotten them both killed, without informing me!”

    Without informing any of us. My glare travels from a gloomy Buffy sitting in front of me at the research table to Rupert and his infuriating indifferent stare directed at a brassed off Wesley. The way Buffy couldn’t stand the sight of Faith earlier should have been my clue. Setting up a whole secret scheme to expose Faith as a fraud and kick her off her double-agent routine on Team Good without telling us? Did they think we’d blab to Faith? Maybe Wesley would have ratted on them to the council, but the rest of us – the bloody Scooby Gang – deserved better!

    “I'm telling the Council!” Wesley confirms my theory on why he was cut out of the decision-making process right on the spot. He proceeds to storm out of the library, when Rupert’s calm voice stops him.

    “I think you should.”

    Wesley looks at him in confusion.

    “We have a rogue Slayer on our hands,” Rupert goes on. “I can't think of anything more dangerous.”

    “At least now we know,” Buffy mumbles sadly, staring at her lap.

    Rupert gives a shrug, moving to the research table with his glasses dangling from his fingers. He sits on the edge of the table next a cross-legged Willow. “And we know a little bit more about the Ascension.”

    “Graduation day. There's a big scary un-fun,” Willow says with a shudder. A dreadful silence takes over the room; the Mayor will be transforming into an embodiment of a pure demon on the day of our high school graduation. Only the Hellmouth can attain such a grand send off.

    Willow smiles sympathetically at a silent Buffy. “At least Angel's not bad, though. That's good, right?”

    Buffy manages a half-arsed smile in return.

    “Yes, I feel so much better knowing that he broke my face in a good way,” Xander retorts, pointing at the area Angel punched. “It's a good bruise.”

    “He was only acting, Xander,” Buffy defends the ponce with a hint of annoyance. “It was just an act.”

    The muscle in my jaw ticks. “Just a bloody act that could have caused him his life.”

    “William?” Buffy whispers, stung.

    “Don’t give me those woeful eyes,” I bark, too fed up with her sappy attitude. Who bloody cares that her wanker of a boyfriend tongued another bint? “Do you have any idea what kind of danger your bloody boyfriend put him through?” I catch Xander out of the corner of my eye. That look of disbelieved shock tugs at my heart.

    “William, that’s enough!” Right, Rupert, God forbid one of us hurts the delicate feelings of your precious pet slayer.

    “Why didn’t you tell us about your plan? Afraid we were gonna muck things up?”

    “No.” Buffy shakes her head. “We just thought it’ll be dangerous…”

    “Don’t feed me shite about keeping us safe,” I snap at her, satisfied when she flinches. “One of us almost got killed because you kept us in the dark.”

    A surge of anger races over me, it’s bad enough we weren’t trusted to be in on their secret plan, but to have them make up excuses about how it was for our on good?

    “I almost killed Angel.”

    “I stopped you,” she shoots back.

    “You could’ve been late. I could’ve killed him.”

    “That would never happen. Not on my watch.”

    “Hey, guys,” Willow holds up her hands meekly, glancing between me and Buffy, “There’s no point in this. Angel is fine.”

    I direct my livid gaze at her. “Tell me you weren’t pissed they didn’t include you.”

    “I wasn’t pissed,” Willow objects. “Just slightly offended.” Buffy looks butthurt at that. “But what’s important is that everything worked out in the end, right?” Willow quickly amends. She’s even worse than Rupert in the arts of pampering the slayer.

    It’s bloody dogging me off! I can feel the anger and tension coil up another notch. I push my chair back and start for the door.

    “Where are you going?” Rupert rushes after me and grabs my arm before I pass Wesley, who is not even close to the door.

    “Let go!”

    He rolls his eyes. “Oh for God’s sake, William, stop being such a drama queen.”

    “Oh, that ship has already sailed.” I try to free my arm. “Now let me storm out!”

    “I’ll give you a ride home,” he suggests impatiently.

    “Doesn’t really work that way, now does it?”

    “Hey, that’s my line. I’ve been quoted.” Willow perks up. Everyone looks at her oddly and then she mumbles, “Guess it’s not the time to be chirpy about that.”

    I finally manage to rip my arm out Rupert’s grasp and make my exist. Everything was going so well, was part of a team, considered myself substantial, except I was nothing but an effing sidekick.

    I used to run the show, back when it was just me and Dru, was the big shot. I won’t settle for being treated like another Xander.



    ~*~*~*~*~



    “William, what are you doing here?” Angel asks in surprise, seated in the middle of the dark among lit candles and recently used shackles. The mansion is dead silent, a striking contrast to the fight show that happened last night.

    I glance at the torture instruments scattered on the floor. “So, I take it you’re not evil?”

    He looks away. “It was just acting.”

    “Right.” That tortured, ‘Look at me I’m suffering’ ploy won’t work on me. “And leaving Xander unconscious on the pavement was part of it.”

    He looks confused at first. When it lands, he doesn’t even pretend to look guilty. “I had to do it. Or else Faith wouldn’t have bought it.”

    “A vampire almost fed on him.”

    That does get his attention. For a mere second. “If I really lost my soul, Xander wouldn’t have lived to see another day.”

    “So you knocked him out,” I point out, miffed.

    He inhales an impatient breath. “If I didn’t, Faith would have done something worse.”

    “You could have at least left him conscious.”

    “I had to act fast. There was no time to think of what’s best for his wellbeing.” He does look guilty. Those dull sad eyes reflect that. “I know he’s your friend. It wasn’t in my intentions to have him killed.”

    He sounds sincere enough. I don’t push the issue. Instead I look around the mansion, trying to find a trace or a glimpse of something that belonged to me or Dru. It’s the same mansion, but different. Dry and plain. No indication that we were residing here just a year ago. William’s poems revealed how last year played out in this reality, and Dru’s name was never mentioned.

    “I admire your courage to come here after…” Angel’s voice trails off with an awkward head scratch. “Your father still hasn’t.”

    “I was part of the rescue mission that came bursting in here last night.”

    “Yeah, but now you’re here alone.” He does his low key menacing approach unintentionally. He stops; apparently noticing how my heartbeat sped up. “And it’s all for… Xander Harris,” the last words are said in the most revolted tone.

    I smile in spite of myself at his congested face. “There’s something else.”

    His face smoothes into a look of curiosity.

    “Drusilla.”

    The name startles him. “How do you know about her?”

    “Watcher records,” I lie, examining one of the handcuffs on the table. “So, uh, does she have a companion or is she a loner?”

    He doesn’t answer. I look up at him, alarmed. “You weren’t her companion, were you?” I shake my head. “Of course you weren’t. That soul of yours set you apart from all of us.”

    “Us?” He lifts up his eyebrows in confusion.

    “Where’s Drusilla now?” I chuck the handcuffs and they knock another pair with a clink. “Don’t tell me you don’t keep track of her? She’s on her own. No one there to help. You should know where she is.”

    He moves closer, his face suspicious and muddled. “Why are you interested?”

    “She fascinates me.” I look away, hiding the fear clouding my face, afraid that he’s on to me.

    “I hate to disappoint you, but… Drusilla is gone.”

    I spin around, unable to comprehend what I just heard. “Gone?”

    “She was killed by an inquisitor in Prague,” his voice low with sorrow and regret. The way he said it, underwhelming, disappointing… should be more grief-stricken, more distressed.

    “William?”

    Air is sucked out of the room, and I’m stunned and numbed all over. Drusilla is dead. Murdered. Killed. Gone.

    Because I wasn’t there.

    She was alone. Spike wasn’t there to rescue her and take her to Sunnydale to be cured. I still remember her in that debilitated and frail condition. She needed me to save her. And I wasn’t there.

    A heavy lump sticks in my throat, tortures me, but not as much as the growing nausea in my chest.

    “Are you okay?” Hanging in Angel’s arms, I just realize I slipped. I don’t slip. I don’t pass out from hearing bad news. I’m not that much of a pathetic poof. I’m… just a bloody human.

    “Did you know Drusilla?” Angel asks, his voice thick with curiosity and apprehension.

    I don’t answer him. I just run. Just want to escape the mansion, Angel, any reminder of her.

    I come crashing against someone, both collapsing on the stairs. Xander’s face greets me with a nervous grin. “Um, hey.”

    I push him away and carry on running.


    ~*~*~*~


    The door opens with a hushed click. The shadow of a figure expands on the bed.

    “You were spying on me,” I accuse Xander with a voice stripped out of emotion.

    He turns on the light and sits next to me on the bed. “I was scared you were going to kill Angel on my behalf. You were pretty upset back in the library.” He pats my knee gently. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered. Just don’t wanna be the cause of something that’ll hurt Buffy. Already did my share of that.”

    Numb with grief and disbelief, I keep staring at his hand on my knee, silent and unresponsive.

    “William, who’s this Drusilla, really?” There’s a hint of incredulity in his voice. “I mean, she was a vampire?”

    I’m in a world where Drusilla isn’t around. A world where my non-existence as a vampire cost her her life. I was trying to get her back. Gone through all the trouble of abducting the slayer’s little friends to bring her back to me. Instead I lost her forever.

    “I’m trying not to wig out here,” Xander witters on. “One of my friends already did the nasty with a vampire, so it’s not a first, but at least Angel has a soul.”

    I blink out of the numbness, turning my head to look at his upset gaze. “You don’t think a vampire without a soul can fall in love?” Disappointment rips through my grief, an un intended insult that tears my human soul in half.

    Eye contact not wavering. “I’ve never seen one.”

    His face so close, breath on my skin, noses almost touching. I jerk away, snatching my glasses with one hand and wiping the moist off my face with the other. These ridiculous feelings, this growing content with everything, the longing to belong… the familiar and comfortable smell of home… being under someone else’s care, having a group of people who want me around them, who care what I say and what I do…

    Not being included in Buffy’s plan hurt. It just tore through all the happiness and satisfaction of every beautiful thing I experienced as… William.

    They think I’m someone else and treat me as such. I’m being me, but they don’t know that. None of them know Spike. I want to be Spike. I want to live here as Spike. It’s what’s haunting me for a while. Not being able to live as Spike in a world where he doesn’t exist.

    Now Drusilla isn’t here. Can’t see her anymore. Will probably forget what she looks like. Dark hair and eyes, just like Xander’s… they invite you in, fill you with trust, love…

    “Xander, there’s something I’ve been hiding… I really need to tell someone…”

    “Man, you’re giving me the wiggins. What is it?”

    I turn to face him and cross my legs, looking straight into his eyes through my hazy vision. “Don’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you now.”

    He imitates me on the spot. “I won’t. I promise.”

    I inhale a deep breath, considering this for one last time. It’d be easier… if at least one of them knew.

    “William, what’s wrong?” his voice filled with fear and anxiety.

    I open my eyes, his worried expression foggy and unclear.

    “Here’s the thing, I’m not William.”





    ~*~*~*~*~
     
  12. Ethan Reigns

    Ethan Reigns Scooby

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    Sineya
    Now this is getting exciting!

    Back to my inner editor: "Just a bloody act that could have caused him his life" should be "Just a bloody act that could have cost him his life".
     
  13. sosa lola

    sosa lola Scooby

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    I was so sure there were no typoes in this one :D Thank you so much for catching them!
     
  14. cryptwarmer

    cryptwarmer I'm in charge of morale!

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    Black Thorn
    Gah....my heart has stopped! Talk about leaving us hanging...AND, I admit, my heart broke and the air got sucked out of my lungs along with William at the news of Dru's death. :(

    the last chapter ended all sweet, with William being nice to Larry, and NOW...you pull a Joss and all is discontent, strife among the ranks, heart ache, accusations and...the pregnant pause...until the next episode....
     
    sosa lola likes this.
  15. sosa lola

    sosa lola Scooby

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    Aww! Thank you! I feel like I'm floating! Dru dying in Prague was the first thing I wrote among the changes that will occur if Spike never existed. You gotta feel for poor Spike here. That's just horrible.
     
  16. cryptwarmer

    cryptwarmer I'm in charge of morale!

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    Black Thorn
    I never realized how much I liked Dru until I read a few fics where she gets gone. I always feel like I've been punched in the gut and I want to run over and hug Spike. Then I guess that some part of me must like Dru after all, or at least I realize there would be a giant hole in the verse AND in Spike, where she used to be
     
  17. sosa lola

    sosa lola Scooby

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    Part 20



    The utensils clank against the plates and fill in the anger fueled silence taking over the room. I glance from a slouching Xander stuffing his mouth with food to Rupert taking a stiff sip from his glass. The air is throttling with tension, which isn’t really foreign given my history in this reality, but it was never this quiet.

    I didn’t know Rupert was back from school until I caught a whiff of roast meat. He didn’t have the heart to make a proper meal since he literally cooked meat and two veg. No words were exchanged since his arrival. It isn’t natural. People yammered constantly here.

    I look down at my untouched plate, my knife and fork hanging over the mountain-shaped mashed potatoes. “Did you, uh, find anything new about the mayor’s forthcoming ascension?” My attempt to break the silence emerges feeble and hesitant.

    “So you’re speaking to me now?” Rupert’s tone is as flat as his gaze.

    I roll my eyes. “Don’t be a bloody child.”

    “Because that’s your forte.”

    I stare at his raised eyebrow. My outburst in the library was damn justified. “I don’t like being lied to.”

    Something clatters on the floor. Xander picks up his fork. “Sorry. I tend to drop things when I hear the sound of hypocrisy.” He fixes his pointed stare on me. I ignore him.

    “We didn’t lie to you, William,” Rupert says carefully. “We simply kept the truth from everybody.”

    “Sounds the same to me. Doesn’t it, William?” Xander’s sour grin disappears as he crunches down a mouthful of uncooked carrots.

    Our matching leveled stares fly over Rupert’s head. “We were dealing with a very crucial situation,” he waffles on. “Buffy thought the smaller the number of those involved the safer for everybody. And I happen to agree.”

    Xander’s nostrils flare, apparently realizing I’m not going to break eye contact. “Think I’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight.”

    “Is something the matter?” Rupert puts down his knife and fork, finally getting a clue.

    “Nothing’s the matter and nobody is sleeping on the couch.” Xander’s nostrils flare once more at my dry tone.

    The tension envelops the room with the same insufferable silence par the faint sounds of clinking tableware. Simmers of anger and hurt twirling in those hazel eyes, darkening their color with a fusion of emotions.

    Xander breaks the staring match and pushes his plate away. “I’m calling it a night.”

    “You haven’t finished your dinner.” Rupert eyes the food on the plate with concern. Usually, it’s licked clean after every meal.

    “I’m not hungry.” Xander waves him off and walks down the hall to the bedroom.

    Rupert lets out a tired sigh. “Did you two fight?”

    “We’ll work it out.”

    He glances at my uneaten food and doesn’t look reassured.




    ~*~*~*~*~




    Pushing the ajar door open all the way, I find Xander unfolding his mattress next to my bed in jerky motions. He’s got a chip on his shoulder ever since I told him the truth about who I am. He didn’t believe me at first. Laughed it off and waited for the ‘Psyche’ that never came. When it finally sunk in that I’m not his William, his only words were, “So it wasn’t a prank?”

    I didn’t understand at first, but now staring at my bed, I recall when I first woke up in it. Xander by my side, Rupert dashing in with hot chocolate, I told them who I was, they didn’t believe me. Xander thought it was a prank. Rupert grounded me for that.

    Xander grabs his pillow when he finally notices my presence. He peers at me over his shoulder with a grimace. “Look, my brain cells don’t function well until I recharge. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

    “Your brain cells are fine,” I drawl, leaning against the doorframe.

    He tosses his pillow on the mattress and glares at me. “You’re not William.”

    “I am William.”

    “But you go by Spike.”

    “Well…”

    “And you’re a vampire.”

    “In the other world, yes.”

    There’s a pause. Like he’s considering if he should ask the next question. “You tried to kill Buffy?” It was carefully asked. He’s bracing himself for the truth he knows he won’t like.

    “Comes with the package,” I answer with difficulty.

    He inhales, eyes determined, the answer sealing the deal. “See, I don’t socialize with those who tried to murder my best friend.”

    He flings himself on the mattress and covers his face with the blanket. When things get tough, Xander runs away. But not Spike. I pull away the blanket and grab him by the collar, looking right into his brassed off eyes. “I’ve been fighting by your side for months now.”

    He pries my hands off his collar. “You took over my friend’s body.”

    “Against my will. It was a curse.”

    I didn’t want any of this. That bitch brought me here. I was perfectly satisfied with who I was, a sad vampire whose girl preferred to shag a disgusting slimy demon over him. I didn’t care for the pep talks nor the warm food and its addictive odor nor the history classes and weighing in on historic facts from experience nor being one of the White Hats and the fulfillment of contributing to the good fight. None of that did a thing for me before. Right now, I’m counting the days to fly to England with my father and take a look at Oxford. I get excited for the Bronze nights with the Scooby club like some bloody teenager.

    ‘Cause I am a teenager. I knew it would happen eventually. William will take over. Spike will cease to exist.

    “Where’s William now?” Xander’s leveled voice doesn’t match the burning fury in his eyes. They’re almost black with anger.

    “I don’t know.” I feel the shame lurking within me. I’ve never stopped to think about what happened to William. Is it possible that he ended up trapped in my body? A vampire? He did nothing to deserve it. But then again, vengeance demons are never concerned with what’s fair. As long as they punish someone, everyone else be damned.

    Xander sits straight and shoves me away. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell us the truth from the beginning?”

    “I told you the truth. You thought I was crazy.” I try to keep my voice low. He can tell, ‘cause his gaze darts to the door.

    “I’m telling Giles.” He jumps to his feet.

    “No.” I pull him down and cover his mouth. My eyes pleading for him to shut it! I spy a folded sock under the desk and think of shoving it in his mouth to keep him quiet.

    I’m shaking, fear thudding through me. I’m about to lose everything. All that for a bloody impulsive moment. Why the hell did I tell him? Why the hell did I muck up everything?

    “Please. Don’t,” I say, desperately. I remove my trembling hand off his mouth, keeping my temper down, though my guts are twisting with nausea and dread.

    He stares at me, studying the fear in my features, the anger still burned in his eyes. “So, what do you want me to do? Lie to my friends?”

    “Why not? Won't be the first time.” Didn’t want to go there, but I’m too distressed to think of alternatives.

    He looks gutted. “That’s different.”

    “It’s always different when it’s you, innit?”

    “The world was ending! Who knew if Willow could pull it off! I had to…” He stops when he notices the confusion in my face.

    “What are you talking about?”

    He narrows his eyes at me. “What are you talking about?”

    “The self-harming.”

    “Oh.”

    I should press him to clarify, turn the tables on him. But the cold thud of fear in my chest isn’t helping me think straight. I want to explain, have him on my side, have at least one person who I can talk to as myself. “Xander, I just needed to tell someone…”

    “Why me? Why now?” The deer caught in headlights look is replaced with anger.

    I open my mouth about to explain, but the words are stuck in my throat. Would he understand how much Dru’s death meant to me? How lonely it was to pretend to be someone I’m not?

    When I don’t answer him, he gets up and wanders aimlessly about the room. He stops by the framed pictures, eying William intensely. I watch him walk over towards the closet, examine the clothes inside, how different they are from what his William used to wear. He turns around and his gaze locks with the notebook on the desk.

    “So those poems, it was him?”

    I give a timid nod.

    “So, when I’m around you, there are no naughty thoughts a-brewing?”

    I attempt a small smile when I shake my head. He doesn’t return it.

    “I don’t think I can sleep in the same room with you tonight.” He fetches his pillow and blanket and hovers a bit by the door. “I need to clear my thoughts. Thought clear-age is due.” He stares at me briefly before he leaves.



    ~*~*~*~*~



    My eyes snap open to darkness. Did Xander tell? Shouldn’t have let him out of my room where he could come across Rupert and let the sodding cat out of the bag. He’s an effin' gob shite. He won’t zip his yap. Heart racing, toxic fear rising up in me, I try to calm myself down. Remind myself that if Rupert knew, he’d be on my case, trying to get rid of me for the real deal.

    Something squeezes deep inside, the thought of them wanting him and not me. What a sad pathetic loser you became, Spike. Angelus would laugh his arse off. Big bad vampire, slayer of slayers, crying his guts out for a human family. I rub the sodding tears off my face with the dry side of the pillow, inhaling the air into my dry throat.

    So, what if they want him? They’ll send me back to my rightful place. It’s all I wanted. It’s why I snuck out to the Magic Box, why I wanted to summon the mottled bitch. Dru would be alive. I’ll work on getting her back. We’ll rule the world together, killing, mutilating…

    I heave a long, long sigh. None of that sounds thrilling anymore, not as thrilling as something mundane like going to class tomorrow. It’s this human shell with its human emotions and its human desires. I won’t want any of it when I’m a vampire again.

    I push myself up and put on my glasses, yearning for a glass of water to quench the thirst. I wouldn’t need water if I was still a vampire. See? No need to fret. Let Xander blow the gaff and have done with it. I’d be rid of them all, rid of this prison, rid of school, rid of… Sunday roast and warm porridge.

    It’ll never taste as good if I’m a vampire.

    A faint moan flows from the bathroom. I stop in my tracks, a horrible feeling in my gut and a huge wallop of fear hits me. Numbed with dread, I feel myself floating like a white ghost towards the sound. Faint sniffles send a wave of panic through my spine.

    White spotless bathroom except for the puddle of blood staining the tile between Xander’s bare feet. Xander on the bathroom floor, head leaning against the toilet seat, a deep gash along his extended forearm, shaking with silent sobs.

    Bollocks! Bollocks! Sodding hell! Frantically wrapping a towel tightly around his wrist and twirling my head about for a rope… a shoelace… something it to tie the towel with… put more pressure to the wound…

    “Rupert! Rupert!”

    It starts bleeding through the towel, so I pull the toilet paper so hard it starts rolling. I wrap it around the towel, noticing it’s as useless as tits on a bull and fling it away. I jump towards the silver rail next to the washbasin and snatch another towel. I wrap it around the blood soaked towel and apply more pressure.

    The way Xander’s body shivers so hard with sobs disturbs me. I help him lie down, his head knocking the plunger to the floor.

    Rupert suddenly storms in, sans glasses and his robe barely tied. He swiftly rushes to the medicine cabinet for a first aid kit. I fall back on my bum, leaving the rest to him.

    I’m crying. My teeth chattering and my body trembling, can hardly see the neglected bloodied knife on the floor through the tears. Tears for Xander, and more for myself. He did it because I told him. He was doing so well. This time is worse than the one I found him in the bathroom at his house.

    It’s because I told him, the thought dawns on me like a splash of freezing water.




    ~*~*~*~*~




    Feeling like I was chewed on and spit out by hell itself, I sit on the chair in my bedroom, huddled up into myself and staring at an equally silent Xander on my bed. His eyes stare up blankly at the ceiling, his arm neatly wrapped up and cleaned from trails of blood.

    Rupert, sitting next to him on the bed, rubs gently on his good arm. “I would let your skip school tomorrow if Snyder didn’t schedule that book fair.” He scowls when he mentions the little principal. “Try to get some rest. We still have a few hours before sunrise.”

    I turn my head to the mirror; eyes puffed up, nose as red as blood, and tear steaks have dried on my cheeks.

    “I’ll prepare something warm for you to drink.” I hear the sound of the door opening and closing, but can’t muster the courage to look at Xander. Don’t want to be in the same room with him. Don’t want to hear him say it. Can’t imagine what it would do to me.

    “We have to get William back.” His voice hollow and hushed. “You understand that, right?”

    My lips press against each other as I stare at my bloodshed eyes in the mirror.

    “I’m willing to keep quiet, but you gotta help me get him back. This isn’t fair to him. Not to Giles. Not to any of us.”

    The room turns chilly, and my face pales before me just as frozen ice rips into my heart and tear at it.



    ~*~*~*~*~



    First pupil to arrive in math class. The teacher appears surprised but doesn’t comment. I fiercely will myself to keep my composure. I handled it fine this morning and in the car. It was hard with Xander being there in his knowing silence and Rupert being fatherly and unaware. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to implode.

    Chatter drifts to my ears, floats around me with the sound of chairs being scraped back. I open my eyes and Buffy is standing in front of me. Her hands clutching her books and her face is uncertain.

    “Hey,” she pipes up awkwardly.

    I give her a shaky nod.

    “Look, about yesterday…” She bites on her lower lip. “Are we cool?”

    What’s she talking about? It takes me a second to grasp what she means. The fight at the library. Bleeding hell, who cares about that?

    “Water under the bridge.”

    Her grin sheds some light on the darkness inside me. Who would have thought? The smile of the Slayer healing a wound in William the Bloody’s heart.

    Then Xander walks in.

    He stares at me with an indecipherable expression. He even dares to sit on the empty seat behind me, witnessing every tremble, the slump of my shoulders.

    The room becomes smaller and it gets harder to breathe. I feel his eyes on my back, boring a hole in there and witnessing the real namby-pamby inside.

    I can’t comprehend how it happened. I just find myself dashing out of the classroom, racing down the halls and collapsing on the toilet inside the bathroom stall. It’s insufferable, those feelings coiling inside. Drained, sad, lonely and painfully heartsick with depression. It hurts. It damn hurts.

    “Spike?”

    I suck in a shuddering breath.

    Xander knocks on stall’s door. “Spike, is that you?”

    Never thought I’d hate hearing that name again. The sound of it on his lips makes me cringe. I realize I forgot to lock the stall just as he pushes the door open.

    I swallow a thick lump in my throat when his gaze lands on the mess on my face. Anger mingled with humiliation rises up within me. I’m completely off my bird. Can’t think. Can’t breathe. And for what?

    I push past the boy to the sinks, trying to retain a shred of my dignity.

    “Spike?”

    I turn on the water and splash it on my face. Let’s wash away the sad arse tinglies rumbling inside.

    Xander’s hand clasps my shoulder and squeezes.

    “I don’t want you gone.”

    The softly spoken words make me stop. They sounded as sincere as the look on his face. I release a sigh, holding his hand on my shoulder with my own and lowering it down.

    “What do you expect? If he’s here, I won’t be.”

    “We’ll find a way.”

    I shake my head and walk out of the bathroom. I need a moment away from him. A moment to give my bloody heart a chance to patch itself up, to regain assurance.

    He doesn’t want me gone. Does it mean a thing?

    Back in class, he sits next to me, a small smile of assurance.

    Apparently it does.
     
  18. Ethan Reigns

    Ethan Reigns Scooby

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    Sineya
    Excellent! I don't read anyone else's fanfic, just yours, because you are a master of it. And I didn't even see any typos.
     
  19. sosa lola

    sosa lola Scooby

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    Wohoo! I finally did it! Yes! :cool:

    I am honored that my fanfic is the only one you are reading. There are much better writers out there. So yay and thank you! ;)
     
  20. cryptwarmer

    cryptwarmer I'm in charge of morale!

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    Black Thorn
    This is totally tearing my heart out in every direction. wow...I just want to give everyone a hug. Joss has nothing on you when it comes to ramping up the angst, but what I DO know is you will give us a much more satisfying conclusion and do your characters a better service.

    This one is making me tear up. I have experience with cutting...sigh