BLEEDING

by - Caitlin

TITLE	BLEEDING
AUTHOR	Caitlin
PARTS	1/2
DISCLAIMER	Characters by Joss Whedon, etc.
SUMMARY	Spike tries to run from what's happening to him and what's happened, but things never work out that way and who said living and feeling like a human was ever easy? Spike POV throughout.
RATING	PG-13 Language and angsty thoughts.
SPOILERS	Up to including The Gift (Yup one of those)
FEEDBACK	Much appreciated, I used to write some fic but don't really any more because well, basically, I suck. Huh, really shouldn't tell you that when you're about to read this should I? Oh well, too late.

Have you ever been in love? Horrible ain't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. Make you bleed. You build up all these defenses, you build this whole sodding suit of armor so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life... You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. And in my case she didn't want it. But they do something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, or in my case punch me one too many times, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages people. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'Get away,' or 'I hate you,' (At least they were always simple phrases to us) turn into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a mind-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Bloody hell I hate love.

But near the end I almost loved it again, loved being it's bitch because sometimes you can love someone and they can never return your love. And you have to be all right with that, and I was. But that was only because she was still here.

Red tried to explain it to me, when her and Harris dragged me back to my crypt. After the battle Will wouldn't leave for a bit 'cause she was certain that I was gonna throw myself in the sunlight. For some reason, that I can't figure out quite yet, that would be bad, I'll have to get back to her on that one.

'Course if I was gonna do that I would have done it back at that *place* and even if I still wanted to she wouldn't have been able to stop me - chip or no chip. The one thing in the world I wanted then was to be alone. No. The one thing I wanted right then was to see her again. Bloody hell even to feel her fist in my face, cracking my teeth into the flesh of my cheek. I wanted that taste again that I came to assosciate with her. That tangy metallic spice of sweat and blood.

Blood, is that how I'll remember her? By the stuff that killed her, and the only thing that keeps me alive? Blood, it's always sodding blood. It's what made her look at me in disgust and it's what, when I finally got a fucking crumb, took her the hell away.

So she stood there as I slumped against the tomb, trying to keep myself upright otherwise she'd never leave me alone. I'd already managed to convince them I was fine, collapsing would have me condemned to a night at Giles'.

And when I finally gained the energy to look up, she was *still* standing there, edging backwards and forwards. I think it was good for her. Gave her something else to think about, something else to do. Me? I 'aven't got a life, not really, 'aven't got no sodding distractions. 'Cept her and look what happened there?

'I'm not gonna do it,'

She looked at me, biting a pale and bluish lip, 'Come on Spike, like I believe that. Like I wasn't gonna go after Glory you mean?'

''Least you had someone to beat the crap out of,' I slurred, 'That hell bint is dead now, no one for a decent spot of payback, you know what I mean?'

'Yeah,' She gave me a look, 'I know what you mean,'

And she did, she really did and for some reason instead of telling her to piss off I found myself trying to speak through bloodied lips. 'Haven't ever felt like this before,' found myself muttering, and hissing as I tried to move around.

'Like what?' Think she might have looked surprised then.

'Like someone's ripped my insides out, like I'm not me anymore."

'I think,' Heard her edging away to the door, 'You're supposed to feel that way,'

And then, satisfied I wasn't going to turn chargrilled any time soon, she was gone.

Supposed to feel this way? Supposed to feel this bloody way?! Oh yeah and then I remembered with a cynical laugh, the awful condition that is humanity which I'd been foolishly trying to find again. Not because I was trying to make her love me, but because I was trying to be someone she could love.

I remembered what my mother told me, huddled up on her death bed over a hundred sodding years ago, "A heart can never reach a peak of truth, William, until it breaks." Well what the hell is that meant to mean mother dearest? That you feel nothing until you are nothing? And that real suffering is what makes you alive? Well I'm beat. Give me back the inexperience, keep the heat, let me trade it for some sodding deliverance. There's nothing great about heart ache. There's nothing I want to learn from all this pain. From all this bleeding. I'd rather not feel love than to have to feel this way. Like I'm dying.

No I don't feel sad anymore pet. I'm back again, staring at this pathetic pile of rubble which is your real grave. Not that mound of dirt. This is where you did it, this is where you bloody gave up. You're a sodding wimp do you know that? We could have....we could have found another way, I'm sure we-

But you, you did all this. Just you being here around me - God I can still smell her on my skin - has made me this way. There's no turning back. But you don't even have the courtesy to stay and see it through to the end. You left me, you just sodding left me. And your sister, what the hell is she gonna do now? And leaving me to protect her? Oh that's bloody marvellous that is pet, I couldn't do it when you were here what the hell makes you think I can do it now?

Now, when all I can think about is the smile from your mouth. The touch from your hands. The feel of you next to me. The sound of your voice. Just a few of the things I'd give anything for just to have you back. If I still had my soul I'd sell it to the sodding devil for you love. I'd risk the whole thing to just feel you one last time. Just that brief flicker of your lips, the glimmer of a smile on your lips, no matter how small, I would do anything. God you coward I hate you, I bleeding hate you.

I need to break something, these rocks, these rocks that I throw about the place, did they hurt? Were you still alive when you fell on them, could you feel them all jutt into the slope of your back? Did your skin bleed, did your bones break? Did it hurt pet? Oh please tell me it didn't hurt.

Look at this place, it's a sodding wreck. All I did was stumble into that post and the whole fucking thing collapsed. It's just a fricking construction site, a shoddy construction site where brickies try to earn a dollar. But it beat you pet, bloody well beat you. I thought you were stronger than anything. Thought you'd always be around to kick my ass. But you're not. Where the hell are you huh? You bloody coward, where the hell are you?

Well I'll tell you where the hell I am, I'm not here.

* * * * *

I think this one is his, if I remember rightly. God even the door is boring. I can hear some shuffling about from inside, rustle of papers, some thudding. Bloody hell a smash, what *is* he doing in there? And then some cursing.

Well, I'm impressed, I didn't even know the Watcher knew what that meant. Finally the door opens. Bleeding hell, he looks a wreck, but then I guess I'm not looking all that sharp myself. He fumbles with his glasses for a bit, and adjusts his eyes before he finally realises who it is.

'Spike,'

Is that disappointment in his voice? Does the same thing happen to him as well? Does he sometimes run into crowds thinking he's spotted you and then start shaking someone who wasn't you? Sometimes I look around for you Slayer and think you'll be there, waiting and looking for me, either for some help or to kick my ass, but you're not.....you never are.

'Don't worry it's not a social visit,' Gotta stop myself from laughing for a minute when he looks relieved. 'Just thought I should let someone know,'

He scrunches up his face and rubs the back of his neck, it's only six in the evening. Sundown. But it looks like he's been sleeping all day. Take a swallow and look off into the distance, just wanting this to be over with. Don't know why I'm here anyway, s'not like I need his sodding permission or anything.

'Let someone know what?'

'I'm leaving town s'all thought it would be,' try to think of the word, 'Impolite,' I settle for, Impolite? Jeez, when did I ever care? '-Not to let one of you lot know.'

He nods. That's it. Well what the hell did I expect? A farewell party? Get a grip mate. I turn to go but his words stop me in my tracks.

'And Dawn?'

'What about her?'

He's looking a little bit more respectable now. Hair all combed back, that sleepiness gone from his face. He looks a little bit more watcherlike. It's better.

'Does she know you're leaving? Have you told her Spike?'

'Well, I, I haven't-'

'I thought so,' He takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

'Hey!' I reply indignantly, that snarky comment for some reason getting to me. 'What the hell do you mean by that?' Feel myself getting angry at that. What the hell is he trying to say ? It's not like I owe her anything anyway. The nibblet's not my responsibility.

And anyway, she's better off without me.

He takes the glasses off, and looks up at me. He's so haggard looking but he's still got that power thing about him that I discovered a few months ago back in the Magic Box, when he warned me away from Buffy. God, what I'd give to go back to then.

'I think you know what I mean Spike,' he replies evenly.

'Well what can I say mate? I'm having a special ed day, care to elaborate?'

The Watcher sighs, 'Dawn, for reasons beyond my comprehension, Dawn,' he looks right at me, God I hate it when people do that, 'Worships the ground you walk on Spike, and you haven't had the decency or the compassion to even go see her. To let her come see you. And now you're just leaving? Well forgive me if I suddenly begin to regret having ever thought you'd changed,'

'Now wait here a minute.' I bring out a hand to stop the door he was beginning to close, 'I have bloody well changed, and that's the reason that I'm not going to see her alright? If you stopped automatically assuming the sodding worse you could see that!'

He folds his arms over his chest, 'See what Spike? Enlighten me,'

Find myself staring at the ground. Mighty interesting place this step, that strange cobbling type of paving. Don't get that in a lot of places. Hell I don't need to answer him. But I do, roll my eyes, but still don't look up. Don't know what that is, is it indifference? Or is it shame?

'She's better off without me Watcher, we both know that. Bloody hell you were telling Buffy that for long enough.'

'I was, and sorry to disappoint you Spike but you're still not my best friend quite yet-'

I can't help but let a snort of laughter through and cut him off, 'Glad to hear it mate,'

With a glare he continues- '*But* what I do know is that Dawn needs you, she's lost everyone who's dear to her and she believes that you blame her for Buffy's death,' He says the last bit quickly.

'You what?' That grabs my attention, 'That's bleeding ridiculous,'

'Maybe. But Dawn doesn't see it that way and your actions have hardly proved otherwise,'

Oh yeah, duck my head again and shuffle, that's shame.

'I didn't know,' I mumble.

'No, I don't doubt that, but now that you do know I'd like to think I wasn't wrong in all my newly formed opinions of you and that you'll do something about it. Now if you'll excuse me I've just knocked over a most expensive mint vase and I want to see if it's still salvageable,'

Typical British. Oh yeah, I'm British too. But not typical mind.

The door shuts and I find myself just staring at the grain for a while, mapping out the inconsistencies and where the wood is hollow, where it's smooth and worn. Where did she touch this door? Where was it that she knocked when she came round to Giles' place. Was it there, where the pattern slides together and the grain becomes darker. Was it there, that slight imprint, that slight groove in the surface. Does this door still carry her memory, does it still smell of her. Bleeding hell if Giles came out to find me sniffing his door, he'd have thought I'd finally lost it.

So where do I go now huh? Where do we all go?

With these new found complications to add to the rest of the mess of my existence I turn, not quite sure what I'm going to do next, but before I can even think about that my thoughts are interrupted.

"Spike!" I turn around, the Watcher's followed me into the garden. Half stumbling down the steps. God I didn't even hear him coming. That weariness, I realise as he comes closer, has been replaced by something else. His eyes are wide and his breaths are coming up short. I feel my eyes narrow.

'What?' I pause, 'What is it? What's wrong?'

'It's Dawn,' He replies breathlessly, 'She's gone missing.'

* * * * *

It's raining now. She picked a helluva night to go AWOL on us. I can barely see a thing through all the grime that lingers in the air, or hear anything with that incessant pelting of raindrops above me. How do they expect me to find her in this? I'm searching my mind, trying to think of places she could be. But what the hell do I know about where teenage girls go running away to when they've lost all their family in the world? When they're completely alone.

Although, I can understand the trashing your house part, at least that keeps Giles occupied, talking to the police whilst the rest of us search. So with that common ground, I do put myself in her shoes for a second, and I find that really I'm still *in* my own shoes. So what do I want?

I want to get away. That's what I want. As far as possible. Nowhere will ever be far enough.

So I'm cruising the highways, all possible routes out of Sunnydale. She hasn't got any money so I don't think that she got the bus, but Harris and his other half are checking out bus shelters just in case. Which leaves me searching for a little girl, trying to hitch a lift out of this town of nightmares. A girl who probably hates me for abandoning her, when I promised I'd protect her. Till the end of the world. Well it was the end of my world, does that count? No I expect not, and I can't help thumping the steering wheel and almost screaming at myself. I'm such a bloody idiot. But I just want this fucking feeling out of me. This gnawing at my insides, this never relenting burning in my head. Is that so wrong?

Does anybody else know what the hell this feels like, I wonder. Like eyes that watch you as you walk, measuring your every move. You know they're out there, somewhere, and the thought is not comforting. And you speed up, you slow down, stop, go but it doesn't matter because whatever the hell you do they're still there, watching and waiting. Sometimes a slight rustle will grab my attention, a whisper from somewhere and I'll spin - only to find nothing. But they *are* there. I move on and the whispering begins again. Again I stop, with the same result and it won't matter what I do, running, fleeing, screaming, it won't matter. They'll always be there. What is that I wonder? What do you call that feeling? I want to know, I really do. At least I think so.