Title: Guilt
Author: Athenewolfe
Warnings: Character Death, violence
Rating: R
Character: Spike/Willow
Word Count: 630
Table: Prompt 029 Guilt 50 Dark Fics
Author's Notes: Written for good__evil utilizing my prompt table; thank you to Ariel for glancing over. Attempt 2 at Spillow
Summary: Season Seven Chipped but soulful Spike and a distraught Willow engage in a destructive relationship. Partly inspired by Dean Koontz Door to December
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Guilt.
They used each other: to forget, to punish, and to feel. They were each other’s dirty little secret: both ashamed of what they felt, in denial of what could be. Their reasons may have been different, but the guilt felt the same.
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To Spike she represented Fire: the Slayer’s little friend, the first to understand his anger at feeling helpless, how the pain threatened to overwhelm oneself, how your own actions can drive you mad with grief.
It started out simple, with her comforting him. Commiserating with him over the pain, over the regret, and led to someplace darker. If anyone ever found out what they were doing…. What he could do… they would dust him.
It had been an accident; the magics had changed her after Tara died. The darkness that flowed through her veins was enough of a change that the chip refused to register her as human.
You would have thought he would take advantage of that. But he didn’t, not with his soul. Not at first.
But despite their beliefs that a shiny soul would make everything right they forgot one fact. A soul didn’t guarantee someone would do what was right, just that they would feel bad about doing wrong.
Willow taunted him, baited him, and goaded him into striking her. She flew into rages when he would refuse; she would strike until he hit her back in self defense.
His eyes closed, he pictured it: losing himself in the sound of his fist striking her, his demon escaping: beating her, taking her, tasting her. He always apologized after, kissing each bruise he left: making the pain even more exquisite with his lips and tongue. As he probed each bruise she would come, relishing in the pain and the feeling of submission.
He couldn’t figure out why she taunted him. Why she craved his demon, especially now that he had his soul.
She was killing him. He was in love with the Slayer. His golden goddess and it would destroy her if she knew. He shouldn’t touch the witch. He shouldn’t feel for her.
It was killing him. And yet he desired even more.
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To Willow he represented Freedom. She knew what she was doing was wrong. She knew that Buffy loved him: just as much as she had loved Tara. It would destroy her best friend and tear apart their family.
But he was her freedom. She knew she would find her blessed relief at his hands. He may have a soul, but he would always be a demon. One day, his anger, his passion, his delicious bite would go too far. On that day he would drain her. Take her away from this life, from her crippling guilt forever.
She would be free, her soul released in death. It didn’t even matter if he turned her as long as her pain would end.
Until then she would push. Forever taunting, feeling his lips on her bruises, delighting in each pain-filled moment he gave her. Always wondering if this would be the time, the moment he would go too far.
He filled a need in her she thought was long dead.
He would kill her, but until then she could feel alive.
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Spike lowered her body onto the bed. He couldn’t believe he drained her. It was an accident. The demon reacted to her taunts, to the blood in the air from her lip. He hadn’t meant to.
Soul and demon cried out in pain. He lowered her body onto the bed, silent tears coursing down his face.
He made his way down the stairs, and looked around a home that would no longer welcome him. Grief racked his body; he opened the door and silently walked out into the day.