Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Challenge/Prompt: nekid_spike Themed Drabbles and Icons: Bite
Warning(s): Cannon Character Death
Word Count: 910
Date Written: 18 November 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
“THIS ISN’T A ROMANCE NOVEL!” Spike bellowed.
Dawn faced him calmly. “I know it’s not,” she replied, her face turned up toward him. “Life isn’t a romance novel. It isn’t anywhere near as happy. I’m not just asking for me, Spike. I’m asking for you.”
He paused in his rage and stared at her. “Do you really think,” she asked him sincerely, “I want you to be alone after Buffy and I, and everybody else too, have passed? No one deserves to be alone, Spike. You’ve been here for me ever since she died the first time. I would have never lived this long without you, especially since I didn’t want to live without her and I wasn’t supposed to be alive to begin with.”
“Don’t make yourself spend eternity alone, Spike. Turn me. If the other Vamps can do it, you can do it too, and you have way more right and skill than any of the rest of them.”
He knew she had a valid point. He had often considered what his life would become when he had buried his last human friend. Hell, he’d never thought he’d have friends to begin with -- he hadn’t even had them when he’d been a human himself --, but he did. It was his friends who kept him going, primarily Buffy and Dawn. Losing Buffy had almost killed him before; it would have if he hadn’t had Dawn to take care of. To think of losing her . . . It was odd, but it filled him with even more pain than the knowledge that he would again lose Buffy one day.
Humans weren’t meant to live forever; he was going to watch them all turn gray and old and die one day. She was right: he was going to be alone one day. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, though, because he certainly wasn’t risking turning her into a monster. He’d seen what turning someone could do with his own mum. He would never, ever do it again, especially now that he had a soul.
“No,” he said softly, finally. He turned, the tails of his coat flapping around his legs, and started to stalk out of the crypt.
She raced after him and grabbed his arm from behind. “Spike -- “
He turned sharply onto her, his fangs protruding and his eyes flashing yellow with rage. “Don’t you think I’d like to have you with me forever, bit?! I would like nothing more than to spend eternity with you and your big sis, but I’ve seen what turning someone does. You have no idea what you’re asking.”
“I’m asking,” she said, her stubbornness, as always, matching his own, “for you to let me live with you, to let me stay with you forever.”
He stared into her eyes, his own blazing with raw, intense emotions. “No,” he finally said again, ripping his arm free from her hold. “I won’t turn you into a monster, Dawn.”
Her bottom lip trembled. He turned away. “The puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna work this time, luv. I’m saying ‘no’ for your own good.”
“Whatever happened to letting me decide what’s for my own good?”
He dared to glance back at her. “If you think me biting you is for your own good . . . “ He shook his head. “You’re off your bloody rocker, Dawnie.”
“No -- “ she started to protest, but in a flash, he was gone. Turning her was the one thing for which she could ask him that he would never, ever grant. She’d known it before she’d ever asked him, but she’d had to try. After all, he might live for the rest of eternity, after he buried them, alone, but when she died, when this human flesh wrapped around her was no more, she was headed back out to the cosmos. She was headed back out to spend her own eternity alone, and where she’d been, what she’d been, would last ever longer than the Earth, even longer than a Vampire’s Immortal life span.
She sank down onto the table behind her and buried her face in her hands. They were both screwed. They would spend eternity alone, and Spike was right in a way: There was nothing that could be done about it, because the one thing he could do to help, he wasn’t willing to do. She couldn’t blame him, though; she knew where he was coming from. He’d told her about his mother long ago, shortly after she’d lost her own, human mother.
She wiped tears from her eyes. She’d been scared at that time that she would one day live so long she would forget Joyce, but that was another thing that would never happen. She would never forget her mother, her sister, or Spike. She’d never forget their little family. Even if she survived for eons after the Earth was nothing more than dust, she would never forget them.
She remembered how he’d told her once that as long as they remembered the dead, they were never truly gone. She would remember them forever. They would live forever in her memories, and if stars talked, she would tell the constellations about them. They would never die -- she sobbed --, but she would be better off dead than she’d be alone for centuries in outer space again. He was definitely right: life was no romance novel. It was a tragedy, and she was stuck surviving it, no matter what she wanted.