Ashes to Ashes, 9/30
Dec. 29th, 2007 12:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sevendeadlyfunPairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Grief and a kind of madness take Spike and Xander places they aren't sure they want to go....
A/N: Written for my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
psych_30 table prompt # 29-obsession and tamingthemuse prompt # 75-hush...
Previous Chapters
Xander flopped backwards on to the bed, landing in a graceless sprawl. He stared up at the mirror above the bed, meeting his own eyes. He looked tired, he noted clinically. Tired and strung out, a junkie in need of a fix. How the hell did no one notice he was coming apart at the seams?
The same way he didn’t notice their breakdowns, he supposed. Willow face was drawn, careworn in a way it hadn’t been before…before. Tara, sweet quiet Tara, seemed damn near invisible some days, hiding herself behind that curtain of hair and almost willing herself out of their sight. Dawn was wound tight, flying apart at the smallest thing. He’d watched her collapse when they ran out of milk a few days ago and he hadn’t said a word. He just picked her up and hugged her until she stopped shaking. They were all coming apart and it was just easier not to mention it.
“Easier,” his reflection spoke. “Yeah, it’s so much easier to watch a little girl collapse. After all, she’s not your burden. Nope, just a fictional sister of a dead friend. Not real at all.”
“Shut up,” he responded tiredly. “I get my snark quotient met by Spike and Anya. I so don’t need this from you.”
“Shut up,” his reflection mocked him, voice high and whiny. “I just want ignore everything because I am Mighty Xander, Lord of Denial. I’ll pretend Buffy’s not dead and Spike isn’t all I think about. You pathetic wimp. No wonder you want to fuck Spike, instead of Anya. There should be at least one set of balls in the bed.”
“SHUT UP,’ Xander screamed. “JUST SHUT UP! I can’t think when you’re yapping. Sweet Holy Hannah, you’re constantly carping and you wonder why I freeze up? It’s always something with you, isn’t it?”
His breath coming in harsh pants, Xander looked around for his axe. He’d shut that bastard up, once and for all. His hands wrapped around the weapon, raising it above his head. The mirror shattered under his blow, glass raining down around him as he heard Buffy’s voice wail, “Xander! No!”
He dropped the axe, falling to his knees amid the broken glass. He picked up the nearest piece, feeling it prick his skin. He’d done it. He’d killed her. In trying to stop the noise, he’d cut Buffy down.
“Buffy,” he whispered. “Buffy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. Please…I’m sorry.”
“Hush,” a soft voice said. “Hush. Nothing here that can’t be fixed.”
“Spike,” Xander said frantically. “She’s here, Spike. In the mirror. She’s here and I hurt her and I need your help.”
“She’s not here, mate,” Spike told him gently. “She never was.”
Xander shook his head. Spike didn’t know. He hadn’t seen her, but if they could put it all back together the way it was, he’d see her and he’d know.
“She was here,” Xander insisted. “She was right here. I couldn’t see her before because I was too busy being angry. But, if we can put the mirror back together, she’ll be okay.”
Spike pulled him close, cradling him. Xander sagged backwards into Spike’s embrace, watching as the broken pieces of glass began to melt. He saw the little bits of Buffy in the mirror fade away to nothing.
“It was my fault,” he told Spike sadly. “There was so much going on. All the noise and I didn’t mean it. I tried to save her.”
“Yeah, “ Spike agreed. “You tried to save her. But, Xander, she was never here.”
“She was here,” he argued. “She was here all along and I didn’t know it. She was here. She was here. She was right here…”
“No.” Spike shook his head. “She wasn’t. Shadows and dust is all. Only what you can touch is real, Xander. Never could touch her, could you?”
“I could,” Xander disagreed. “I touched her. All the time.”
“Did you touch her,” Spike asked quietly. “Or did she touch you?”
The floor rippled, jostling Xander and shaking him free of Spike’s embrace. As he rolled away, Xander kept his eyes on Spike. He refused to blink, terrified that Spike would disappear like Buffy.
“Xander!”
He startled awake, bleary eyes focusing on Anya. She loomed over him, her face a mixture of concern and irritation. He shot a glance upwards towards the mirror she’d had him install. For some reason, he’d expected it to be broken. He shook away the fog of sleep, little wisps of a dream he couldn’t quite remember.
“I’m okay, Ahn,” he reassured her. “Just a bad dream. Nothing important.”
“Are you sure,” she pressed him. “You were screaming. Loudly.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Think I’ll shower and go see Spike. Maybe a little patrol’ll do me some good.”
Chapter 10
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Grief and a kind of madness take Spike and Xander places they aren't sure they want to go....
A/N: Written for my
psych_30 table prompt # 29-obsession and tamingthemuse prompt # 75-hush...Previous Chapters
Xander flopped backwards on to the bed, landing in a graceless sprawl. He stared up at the mirror above the bed, meeting his own eyes. He looked tired, he noted clinically. Tired and strung out, a junkie in need of a fix. How the hell did no one notice he was coming apart at the seams?
The same way he didn’t notice their breakdowns, he supposed. Willow face was drawn, careworn in a way it hadn’t been before…before. Tara, sweet quiet Tara, seemed damn near invisible some days, hiding herself behind that curtain of hair and almost willing herself out of their sight. Dawn was wound tight, flying apart at the smallest thing. He’d watched her collapse when they ran out of milk a few days ago and he hadn’t said a word. He just picked her up and hugged her until she stopped shaking. They were all coming apart and it was just easier not to mention it.
“Easier,” his reflection spoke. “Yeah, it’s so much easier to watch a little girl collapse. After all, she’s not your burden. Nope, just a fictional sister of a dead friend. Not real at all.”
“Shut up,” he responded tiredly. “I get my snark quotient met by Spike and Anya. I so don’t need this from you.”
“Shut up,” his reflection mocked him, voice high and whiny. “I just want ignore everything because I am Mighty Xander, Lord of Denial. I’ll pretend Buffy’s not dead and Spike isn’t all I think about. You pathetic wimp. No wonder you want to fuck Spike, instead of Anya. There should be at least one set of balls in the bed.”
“SHUT UP,’ Xander screamed. “JUST SHUT UP! I can’t think when you’re yapping. Sweet Holy Hannah, you’re constantly carping and you wonder why I freeze up? It’s always something with you, isn’t it?”
His breath coming in harsh pants, Xander looked around for his axe. He’d shut that bastard up, once and for all. His hands wrapped around the weapon, raising it above his head. The mirror shattered under his blow, glass raining down around him as he heard Buffy’s voice wail, “Xander! No!”
He dropped the axe, falling to his knees amid the broken glass. He picked up the nearest piece, feeling it prick his skin. He’d done it. He’d killed her. In trying to stop the noise, he’d cut Buffy down.
“Buffy,” he whispered. “Buffy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. Please…I’m sorry.”
“Hush,” a soft voice said. “Hush. Nothing here that can’t be fixed.”
“Spike,” Xander said frantically. “She’s here, Spike. In the mirror. She’s here and I hurt her and I need your help.”
“She’s not here, mate,” Spike told him gently. “She never was.”
Xander shook his head. Spike didn’t know. He hadn’t seen her, but if they could put it all back together the way it was, he’d see her and he’d know.
“She was here,” Xander insisted. “She was right here. I couldn’t see her before because I was too busy being angry. But, if we can put the mirror back together, she’ll be okay.”
Spike pulled him close, cradling him. Xander sagged backwards into Spike’s embrace, watching as the broken pieces of glass began to melt. He saw the little bits of Buffy in the mirror fade away to nothing.
“It was my fault,” he told Spike sadly. “There was so much going on. All the noise and I didn’t mean it. I tried to save her.”
“Yeah, “ Spike agreed. “You tried to save her. But, Xander, she was never here.”
“She was here,” he argued. “She was here all along and I didn’t know it. She was here. She was here. She was right here…”
“No.” Spike shook his head. “She wasn’t. Shadows and dust is all. Only what you can touch is real, Xander. Never could touch her, could you?”
“I could,” Xander disagreed. “I touched her. All the time.”
“Did you touch her,” Spike asked quietly. “Or did she touch you?”
The floor rippled, jostling Xander and shaking him free of Spike’s embrace. As he rolled away, Xander kept his eyes on Spike. He refused to blink, terrified that Spike would disappear like Buffy.
“Xander!”
He startled awake, bleary eyes focusing on Anya. She loomed over him, her face a mixture of concern and irritation. He shot a glance upwards towards the mirror she’d had him install. For some reason, he’d expected it to be broken. He shook away the fog of sleep, little wisps of a dream he couldn’t quite remember.
“I’m okay, Ahn,” he reassured her. “Just a bad dream. Nothing important.”
“Are you sure,” she pressed him. “You were screaming. Loudly.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Think I’ll shower and go see Spike. Maybe a little patrol’ll do me some good.”
Chapter 10
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2007-12-29 07:57 am (UTC)*Mwah*
no subject
on 2008-01-03 02:44 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-29 09:50 am (UTC)No wonder you want to fuck Spike, instead of Anya. There should be at least one set of balls in the bed.
So good. *dies then dances with glee*
I can't decide if I want Spike to manipulate him or to heal him... Oh, the possibilities!
no subject
on 2008-01-03 02:46 pm (UTC)Glad you liked it!
no subject
on 2007-12-30 12:56 am (UTC)Think I’ll shower and go see Spike. Maybe a little patrol’ll do me some good.
Maybe a little Spike will do him even more good. His denial is tearing him apart.
no subject
on 2008-01-03 02:47 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-01-04 03:33 am (UTC)Isn't is a shame that so often what's bad for you feels so damn good?
no subject
on 2007-12-30 11:12 pm (UTC)I don't know whether to ask for more of this, or "Improvising Atonement"...
G
no subject
on 2008-01-03 02:47 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-23 03:58 pm (UTC)Hope you don't mind me commenting on each chapter - it's a habit and you don't have to respond to them because I know it can get annoying to have a zillion random not-too-insightful comments to respond to.
no subject
on 2008-09-23 04:26 pm (UTC)And I don't mind all the comments at all. I'm totes a comment whore. Now I might not respond to all of them. BUT! I am incredibly glad that you're enjoying the story and also glad to see you back!
So about the Spike/Drusilla/Connor story you secretly didn't know you wanted to write for me... :P