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The Way We Used To Be

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  • The Way We Used To Be

    Written by: Yosso
    Title: The Way We Used To Be
    Rating: PG-13
    Beta: Mabus
    Setting: During Dirty Girls just before the battle.
    Characters: Spike, Dawn.
    Note: This fic switches between Spike and Dawn's POVs.


    The stairs creaked with frustration as the girl walked down them, failing in her attempt to be delicate.

    "Dawn get the weapons?" she sighed in imitation, mimicking her sister. "Dawn do this, Dawn do that? Geez I'm not the one with the slayer strength here." She took a sigh, progressing on down the stairs. "If I stab myself I'm gonna sue," she rambled on, bouncing lightly down the staircase, reaching the depths of the basement below.

    She stopped. Her skin burned. The air sparked.

    "Hi," she breathed, contorting her gripping tension into casual indifference.

    Spike looked up, the punching bag was swaying drunkenly from its recent beating.

    "Afternoon, niblet."

    "Don't call me that," she retorted back, unable to conceal the venom in her voice. She was looking at the very thing that hurt her sister most and she fumed, seethed inside, an unknown anger roaring inside her again.

    "I'm sorry," the vampire apologised.

    "I just came down here to get some weapons."

    "For the big ol' charge of the light brigade? But with no death that is?or I hope not."

    "Yeah?" Dawn responded delicately, quickly gathering together a variety of weapons into a box, closely examining each and every one, squeezing the smooth handle to a particularly broad axe. She could feel his eyes on her, watching. His cold gaze scraping. A tight discomfort gripped her. She couldn't bear to be in the same room as him - and alone.

    "Look about last week when I hit you-"

    "It's not about that, Spike," Dawn interjected, more aggressively. "It's not."


    "You know why." A silence thudded down ? thick, impenetrable. Dawn turned gathering as many weapons as she could into a basket, heading upstairs. She needed to get away. She had to get away.


    "Spike look, I have weapons. Stay away," the girl warned.

    "I know there's nothing I can say that'll make things better-"

    "You tried to rape my sister."

    That was it. The words were out. Spilled out.

    "You're right," Dawn spat viciously, glaring. "There is nothing you can say."

    Dawn hoped Spike could feel any wounds he had ripping open, a torturous past flooding out. She hoped on the inside he was screaming in anguish, agony. Screaming, wailing. Though on the outside at least, Dawn saw him wince. That was something.

    "I should have known better, what you were. A monster," Dawn continued relentlessly, it was spurting out everywhere, all of it. It would never stop. "I always thought you were the coolest, brave. But now I can't even look at you."

    She pummeled into the creature beneath her, wanting to crush him, quell him, he had hurt her so much.

    He had hurt us.

    He could not go unpunished for this, an intense desire, need to hurt, injure, main, destroy took her.

    How could he have done that?


    The memory still plagued Spike. The cries? The shouts? The screams? The power? The hunger?

    He could feel her form under him, struggling, writhing. He held her, eyes wide with thirst and craving. He snarled over her, holding her ? he would never let go. She screamed under him. She screamed. She wanted it to stop, but he wouldn't let it. He was going to take what he wanted, he was going to devour her, feel what he wanted to feel. Make her love him.

    How could he have done that?

    Dawn glared down at him. Her eyes like fire, burning with anger, betrayal - pain. He had caused that. He. She continued to hurl her fury at him, she was hurting him and a part of him didn't care.

    Maybe he deserved this, maybe his pain wasn't enough. Maybe he deserved more. No, there was no maybe about it, he did deserve it. He took another glance up to Dawn's scolding eyes. And fear struck him, hard. She pounded him down further and further, every syllable a bruise, every word a brutal slash.

    "What's done, is done," Spike sighed, the fierce memories laboured his words as he attempted to harden himself, rip this spark out of him, cut away this guilt. He didn't want to feel like this, he never really did.


    "You completely destroyed my trust," Dawn continued on, releasing her frustration in a gush of rage. As these words exploded from her, crashing into him, the image of the thing beneath him slowly changed as she vented and released. Releasing her inner pain she slowly saw something different. The darkness unveiled. This was new. "I can never trust you, after what you did."

    "I know."

    "But she does."

    Spike looked up, it looked like the noise, the confusion, the mayhem that clouded his head, was slowly clearing. Dawn could see his eyes gradually brighten, the pain growing duller.

    "She trusts you, she knows you. Buffy? she can see something in you. She knows you've changed. You're not the monster that hurt my sister, you're not the thing that scarred her anymore. I suddenly get that. He's gone and she sees that. I trust her ? so I trust you."

    The wounding cold started to seep away, the tension started to ease. Dawn saw him differently, completely. She couldn't stay like this forever, tense, bitter towards him. Things had to get better and she would make it so. He wasn't the wild thing she despised anymore.


    "Spike don't," the woman commanded. "Please. I've said what I have to say."

    "Thank you."

    Dawn nodded, noticing the absence of the compressing tension. "Could we ever go back to the way we used to be?" he asked.


    Spike saw the woman that towered over him, she was majestic, powerful. He ached to break away the past, the pain he had struck into it, the darkness engraved. It couldn't happen, he couldn't turn back time. Though he could try.


    Dawn looked into Spike, she could see the sincerity, the honesty, the longing gazing back at her, underneath that sea of magnificent blue. He wasn't a monster. She wanted to go back, she wanted the thrill, the fun to return. The way they used to be.

    Would they ever go back? Could they?

    "Maybe?" she whispered softly.

    Just maybe?

    The End.
    Last edited by Yosso; 28-08-07, 02:24 PM.