Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and I do not claim to own them.

A/N: Written for Fag End's Halloween 2014 Zombie Uprising challenge for the prompt "The Tell-tale Heart."

She almost doesn't tell Tara.

She hides her wrist from her at first, her hand over the bruise that's mostly just imagination.

When she sits across from her later, Tara on the sofa and her in the chair, she holds her wrist again. Her fingers land against her pulse point by what she thinks of as an accident, though that may not be the entire truth.

There's a simple answer about all of this. Really. What Spike is doing is wrong. Evil. And he can hurt her. And that's his bad.

She wants to lie. To let Tara be right. She's fine. She's Buffy. She's still all here and all together and not broken, not hurting, not wrong. Everything about what's happening disgusts her.

That last part isn't a lie, actually.

The handcuffs, and the collapsing building, and hearing him tell her he loves her, and the alley behind the Doublemeat Palace, and staring down at her friends while his fingers… and then…

It's all so disgusting, so pathetic, so awful and fucked up and miserable and wrong.

But under her touch her heatbeat quickens, thumps. And the guilt bubbles up and fills her until her tears spill from her eyes because she knows, and she can't hide from it. It's there. No matter what Tara thinks.

She's wrong too.