William the Bloody (Spike) (bloody_billy) wrote in salemscenes, @ 2016-06-27 16:10:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | buffy summers (littlebufferin) |
Who: Spike and Buffy
When: Monday Afternoon
Where: Spike's room
What: Meeting again, for the first time.
Rating: TBD
None of this world made any damn sense, and Spike actually found himself almost missing the simplicity of the hell dimension. At least there the rules were set in stone and blood. Survive, kill, and keep on moving. Yet in Salem there was no set of rules to really follow; no rhyme or reason for most of the shite that went on. The witches pulled the strings and the people danced to the unheard tune. But Spike was tired of the bloody dance. A month and a day. That was how long the bleach blond vamp had been stuck inside Salem. Well that and the whole hundred years he had spent trapped in hell. Still, with that waking nightmare aside, in that month his whole world had been flipped upside down. Before this place sank it's claws into him Spike had been the Big Bad. Killing, stealing, fighting...all of it done with reckless glee. Now though, now the master vampire could barely muster the urge to get out of bed. Oh his body was already well on the mend, those vicious scars acquired in hell already slowly fading from his flesh. But the emotional damage had been severe, to say the least, and losing Buffy for a second time nearly shattered him whole.
He had considered walking out into the sun the morning he woke to find her gone. However there were still people in town that needed real help. With Angelus on the loose, and Faith the only Slayer, well he couldn't bring himself to dust just yet. Maybe after he helped her stem the tide, help her end the threat that his grandsire posed...but till then he knew he had to stick around. Granted no one said he had to be sober though. So for a day and a night he drowned his sorrows, emptying another bottle of whiskey and leaving on the floor of his bedroom where all the other empty bottles and beer cans were found. He hated the simple fact that it took so much to get drunk, and hated the fact that alcohol induced numbness never lasted very long.
Sooner or later he'd have to go out and restock his supply, but for the present he had been content to just lay there in the cool darkness of his bedroom. An eye drifted over to his phone from time to time. Keeping a half blurred glimpse at the screen, if only to ensure that nothing dire needed his attention. It was her message though that stirred him from his inebriated repose, and hope filled his unbeating heart. To see her alive and well in Salem should have been great news, but all that hope washed away when Spike realized that she was not the same woman he had come to fall in love with. Despair replaced all trace of hope, yet even in his bleakest moment the vamp couldn't deny Buffy the request to see him. After giving her his room number he struggled to get out of bed, but all he finally managed to do was sit up and slip on a pair of his black jeans. With a sigh William finally moved at last, unlocking the front door before returning to crash upon his own bed. Too emotionally exhausted, and more than a little drunk, he just laid there and waited. Some part of him now hoping that this new Slayer would just dust him and let Spike find some tiny measure of peace at last.