Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Spike/Drusilla, Spike/Buffy
Challenge/Prompt: nekid_spike: Moods of Spike
Word Count: 1,568
Date Written: 28 April 2017
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
"Our Spikey's getting moody." She well remembers teasing him with those words, crooning at him and laughing when his eyes flashed like blue lightning. She used to love his eyes. She loved every part of him really. There was just so much she never understood until it was too late.
It's no wonder he had mood swings back in those days. He'd go so easily from being happy to brooding to being ferocious, but he'd had so much on his shoulders that she, back then, had never understood. They had gone from a family of four to a family of two, and although they'd looked to add to their family, they'd never found the right people to change over to become their "pets". Maybe she should have turned that little Slayer instead of killing her, but Kendra's will had been so strong and her blood so sweet.
No, Buffy was really the one she should have turned. If she'd turned her daddy's pet Slayer, she would have kept both Spikey and her daddy, -- but then the little bitch would probably still have relegated her to second best. There was something about that Slayer that just seemed to keep any other woman from measuring up. Whatever it was, her Spikey had certainly been hit by it in spades.
Everybody had warned her about the Slayer. Her daddy's behavior had warned her. Spikey's own behavior had warned her. He'd gone from doting on her, calling her his Princess, acting like she was the most valuable treasure in all the kingdoms to barely noticing her and, when he had, often being annoyed by her. Even the stars, the moon, and Miss Edith had warned Drusilla about the changes in his moods, but she hadn't wanted to listen.
She hadn't wanted to listen, and she was the one who had screwed everything up. She had left him. She had broken his heart, thinking, like any good doll, he would come crawling back to her to have her patch him up, but her plan hadn't worked. He had gone back to Sunnydale and quickly fallen underneath that damn Slayer's spell.
She wonders, not for the first time, what magical hold it is Buffy holds over the men in her life and if she can break it. She knows she can break her. The only reason why they had defeated her the last time was because she couldn't properly fight her beloved William, but if she could catch the Slayer alone -- But that was exactly the problem, wasn't it? Her daddy had told her that long ago: it wasn't so much the Slayer herself that was the problem. One Slayer could be dealt with. But this Slayer had friends, loved ones, had her Spikey . . .
Drusilla sighs, falling back into her bed and pulling Miss Edith closer. It's useless to rise again tonight. The nights hold nothing for her now even when the stars sweep across the midnight sky. She sleeps her days away; she wishes she could sleep her nights away as easily. Without her William, without her sweet Prince, there's nothing in this world to hold her interest for very long.
And yet, she was the one who sent him away. He had broken, she's certain of that much. He had started to break long before she'd ran away with that Chaos Demon. She had seen the telltale signs. She had borne his frustration. She had teased him endlessly, picked at him mercilessly, and never realized until it was too late just what exactly she was losing when she drove him away from her.
Her favorite dolly had broken, but he had gone another to patch him up. He had loved her, but she had driven him away. He had doted on him, cared for her, put her on a pedestal from which, of course, she'd had to eventually fall. She had been his dark Princess, and he had been her ever-doting, ever-loyal Knight until she had broken him.
She longs with all her heart to go back to those nights. He had treated her like a real Princess, cherishing her and doting upon her far beyond how any man before or after him had treated her. He had taken the reins of their kingdom when they had lost their parents, and although he had done all the work, he had given her all the glory. She could have ruled if she had only been patient with him.
She had ruled. Maybe it had only been a kingdom of two -- three or four, if one counted Miss Edith and whatever henchmen they'd had working for them at the various times, millions, if one counted the stars that still whisper to her nightly although she wishes they would shut up --, but she had ruled. He would have done anything for her. He had even planned to kill the Slayer for her and give her head upon a silver tray, and he would have done that too, she now has no doubts, if she hadn't been fool enough to drive him straight into that Slayer's arms.
The night wind whispers. "What did you say?" Drusilla hisses, her dark eyes flashing on pitch black. Miss Edith repeats the words of the foolish breeze. Drusilla hisses again, snaps her doll's head off, and throws her against the far well.
"Don't cry to me!" she commands her, fully aware that they are now the only two who still persist in her lonely kingdom. "You speak ill of my Prince! You got what you deserved!" Indeed! How dare she tell her that her William would have ran away from her and into the Slayer's arms regardless of whatever she had or had not done! It was such a lie! She was the one who had sent him into the bitch's arms! She was the one who had ended their love and caused her own, beautiful kingdom to crumble in tragedy!
"He loves her," the stars whisper in their sing-song voice. "He loves her, not you! He loves her! Theirs is a love written in us long before your ancestors were ever thought of! He loves her, not you! He loves her!"
"No! No! NO!" Drusilla rocks in her empty bed of black sheets upon whose silky strands she can still smell her beloved, cherished William, the man who would have given her the whole world if she'd only been patient and waited. "NO!" she cries, tearing at her own ears and jet black hair. "NO! IT'S ALL LIES!" Tears stream down her face as she rocks and rocks and rocks.
Daylight is beginning to break outside her castle's walls when she hears Miss Edith's cries through her own. She bolts from her bed that was once theirs and picks her doll up from the floor. She remembers the first time her sweet Spike had patched her doll together and given her back to her after a particularly gruesome fight with their parents. He had treated her so kindly, even cared for her dolly -- and she had torn him apart as surely as she had torn her own dolly in two.
She was the one responsible, not him, just as she'd been responsible for all those changes in his moods about which she'd once teased him. He'd had so much on his shoulders back then. He had been trying to capture the world not because he wanted her but because he wanted to give it to her. Drusilla's sobs echo in the still house abandoned by humanity that had twice before been a home. He would have given her everything if she had only waited, if she had only understood --
But instead she'd broken him, and she herself had broken again in return. "All the King's horses and all the King's men can't put Humpty Dumpy together again." He used to read her such fun tales, even creating hilarious tales of his own creation when he hadn't been able to find a fairy tale book to read to her. "All the King's horses and all the King's men can't patch together an egg again -- nor make a heart whole." She rocks back and forth, holding Miss Edith and weeping. "All the King's horses and all the King's men can't put us back together again."
And it was all because of what she had done. He had loved her truly, given her all he could, and she had broken his heart. She had broken his heart, driven him into the Slayer's arms, and broken her own heart in the process, and now, much like Miss Edith, she'll never be whole again. If he was to come back, perhaps his love would be enough this time to make her whole. Perhaps, but he's not coming back ever. He's not going to love her ever again. And this is how her kingdom falls.
Drusilla cries, weeps, screams, and howls. She shakes, rocking back and forth on the cold, stone floor until at last sleep claims her. The next night she wakes again to a kingdom without her beloved Prince, without her sweet Spikey, and once more she spends an eternity alone in a single night, calling for her Prince, screaming and howling his name and her own misery, and weeping the tears that never stop, the endless tears of a dark Princess' broken heart.