Haunted me all day. Angst breeds angst.
This was written upon hearing spoilers for Seeing Red - I mistook the spoiler to be that Spike would rape Buffy.
“I don’t smoke. You know that.”
His cigarette dangles from his lips. “My lighter. In your front pocket.”
She reaches in. There it is, hard pressed against her body. She pulls it out and flips it open, cupping it as the flame ignites, lighting the contours of his face.
“Why don’t you do this for yourself?” she asks. He shrugs, sucking the smoke into his lungs. She tugs at his arms, trying to free them from his pockets. He resists, but she is stronger, and she pulls them free. His arms end in bloody, bandaged stumps. “What have you done, Spike?” she asks. Louder. “What have you done?”
“If thine right hand offend thee, love,” he answers.
“Oh, god,” she cries, “Ohgodohgodohgodohgod...”
Still crying as she wakes, “Ohgodohgodohgod...” She takes deep breaths, trying to stop. “Oh. God.”
She is alone. Not, she fears, as alone as he is.