Pairing – Spike(William)/Buffy
Rating – NC-17 – Child abuse – Sexual situations.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: All human/AU – William is the new kid at Sunnydale High. Buffy is the cheerleader that watches him from afar and notices that not all is well in William's world. Can she help him?
Author note: Ok, this is my first foray into all human Spuffy and to say that I'm nervous would be a gross understatement.
I know, I know, I haven't finished 'Coming Through', and I will finish it… I promise… but this story clomped into my brain and set up shop and it's been making me its bitch for the last month or so. I'm twenty chapters in and I promised myself that I wouldn't post until it was complete, but I caved. I wanted to see if anybody is actually going to read it… so… here it is. Please let me know what you think.
Chapter 1 – Done For
Buffy watched him walk quickly down the hallway, limping slightly with his hands jammed deep into his pockets and his head down, his messy mop of long, curly hair covering most of his face. His worn jeans were torn in several places and his ratty, long-sleeved, black turtleneck sweater was at least three sizes too big and seemed to be trying to swallow him whole. His scuffed and battered black boots had a set of dog tags woven through the laces on the left one, and they bounced and twinkled as they caught the light from the overhead fluorescents.
She'd been watching Spike a lot lately… well… actually she'd been watching him since he started at Sunnydale High early last year. When he first showed up he was William – an almost exact replica… well… a younger version anyway… of Mr. Giles, Librarian turned Principal. He wore tweed suits and glasses, his longish hair was always neat and tidy, and he spoke with a genteel accent that had all the girls practically swooning at his feet. The killer cheekbones and sparkling blue eyes certainly didn't hurt, either.
Of course, the bullying had started almost immediately. The first thing to go was the tweed suits. William started wearing black jeans and t-shirts emblazoned with the names of old punk bands that Buffy had never heard of. The second thing to go was the cultured, softly spoken accent. His speech became rougher and edgier, sprinkled liberally with strange and funny sounding British curse words that made Buffy giggle to herself whenever she heard them. The third thing to go was his glasses on the day before Christmas break. Those were crushed beneath a top of the line, ridiculously expensive, sports celebrity branded sneaker encasing the foot of one Riley Finn, quarterback of the school's State Championship football team. William never wore his glasses after that and Buffy never found out if he'd decided to get contacts or if he'd just never got his glasses replaced.
After his glasses were crushed, the fourth and final thing went away. His identity. He came back from Christmas break wearing a long, black, leather duster and started calling himself Spike. He refused to write anything but Spike on any of his assignments and wouldn't answer at all to William, even if you were standing right next to him and shouting it into his ear at the top of your lungs. All in all, the transformation didn't take long. He'd arrived at Sunnydale High in late October, and by early January, William was gone and Spike was there.
Buffy had watched him from afar but could never work up the courage to actually speak to him. Maybe she could have if he'd stayed William, but Spike scared her just a little. He was rough and abrasive and had stopped being the victim of bullies. He still got into lots of fights, but he was the aggressor, or at least that's how he made it seem. He was always sporting bruises and scrapes and one of his eyes was usually black and puffy, so come to think about it… that probably ruled out the whole he got contacts thing. He'd always brag about what he called 'the rough and tumble' and, according to Spike, the other guy or guys always looked worse than he did when the fight was over. Nobody that Buffy knew of had ever actually seen any of these fights, or the people that Spike had supposedly pounded into bone meal, but by St. Patrick's Day, even without any actual proof of his prowess, Spike was the Big Bad, one of the most feared boys at school. Nobody messed with him, not even the ginormous linebackers on the football team.
Buffy didn't see him at all over the summer; it was like he just dropped off the face of the planet. And when school started just over two months ago, the changes in Spike were drastic. Gone was the duster, along with the bluster and swagger. He no longer bragged about fighting even though he still sported bruises most of the time. He only wore shirts that covered him completely, often several sizes too big, like he was wearing clothes that belonged to someone else. He stopped being loud and brash, only speaking when spoken to, and he kept his eyes cast down, like he was trying to be invisible. Buffy still noticed him, but it seemed that almost everyone else didn't.
He'd managed to stay off pretty much everyone's radar for the first month of school until he had his first encounter with this year's football team. It had been like a segment of some wild animal documentary. The lead predator suddenly freezes and stares at the herd, easily picking out the weakest member… the one most likely to go down without a fight. Prey sighted, the predator waits for it to wander away from the safety of the herd then slinks closer, signaling to the subordinate members of its pack, and they spring as one, taking the prey to the ground in a flurry of snapping teeth and slashing claws. The teeth and claws may not have actually been present, but by the time the offensive line was done, Spike looked like he'd been attacked by a pack of starving hyenas. The Big Bad was officially slain. He was gone from school for just over a week, and when he got back, the bullying returned to the pre-Christmas levels of last year.
The jocks are relentless, but Buffy tried to distract them whenever she saw Spike trying to slip down the hallway un-noticed. She was usually successful and he got away unscathed, but she couldn't keep an eye on every meathead on the team, so Spike still got pummeled on a regular basis.
She watched Spike out of the corner of her eye as he scooted past a gaggle of freshman girls crowded around a locker, drooling over a picture of the hottie of the week. He lifted his head, flipping his hair out of his face, and her heart started beating faster at the sight of those to-die-for cheekbones and blue topaz eyes. Those eyes caught hers for just a second and her heart missed a beat even though they were flat and expressionless. She started to smile and he ducked his head, his hair flopping back over his face.
He'd almost gotten to the relative safety of his first class of the day when it happened… the thing that would change both of their lives forever. Liam 'Angel' O'Connor dropped his arm from around Buffy's shoulders and stepped out from the throng of football players and cheerleaders clumped together in front of the trophy case. Buffy reached out, trying to snag his arm, but she was too late and her fingertips only brushed the smooth leather sleeve of his letterman's jacket. Angel slid up behind Spike and snagged his ragged knapsack, jerking it backwards. Spike followed it, his head snapping up and his eyes wide and frightened as he slammed into the floor at Angel's feet, his head bouncing off the toe of Angel's shoe. Angel's booming laughter could be heard the entire length of the hallway as he leaned down and sneered. "Whoops."
"Leave him alone!" Buffy stepped up in front of Angel, placing one foot on either side of the boy lying on the floor, and planted her small hands on Angel's broad chest then shoved with all her might. Angel's expression of surprise resulted in a chorus of snorts and snickers from the gathered crowd as the tiny cheerleader actually caused the hulking linebacker to stumble back a few steps. Buffy's ankle brushed against warm, bare skin and she looked down at Spike, then twisted and looked behind her, eyes widening when they landed on his stomach. His too-big shirt had ridden up and left exposed a patchwork of bruises and welts… some faded, some fresh… all across his abdomen and crawling up his ribcage to disappear under the fabric.
"Jesus, Buff! What's your deal? Do you even know this loser?" Angel started to step forward, intending to take his girlfriend's arm and lead her away from the crowd to talk somewhere private, but her cold glare stopped him in his tracks.
"My deal is I'm done, Angel. Done. You're never going to change, are you? You keep promising me that you won't pick on people anymore… that you won't play dickhead jock like the rest of the Neanderthals on the team… over and over you promise! And like an idiot, I believe you, and then what happens? You 'accidentally' bump Xander down the stairs and he breaks his arm! You promise again that you'll stop. Then you break Oz's bass! Do you have any idea how expensive those are and how long he's going to have to work to replace it? No. You don't. You don't give a shit, do you? And again you promise. Then just yesterday you were picking on Willow! You've made her life a living hell, Angel, she's terrified of you." Buffy pointed down at Spike. "And now you attack William! He wasn't doing anything to you! He was just walking along minding his own business!"
Angel stepped back and glanced at the large crowd gathered around the supremely pissed off cheerleader standing protectively over the supine form of Spike. He'd tugged his shirt down, covering the bruises, and was just lying there, staring up at the fierce girl standing over him with her arms crossed over her chest. The glare that radiated from her face would be enough to make even the biggest and the baddest rethink their plan, but Angel had never been what you would call the sharpest tool in the shed, so he stepped forward again and reached for her arm. "Let's go somewhere else and talk. Okay, Buffy? Give me one more chance?"
Buffy shook off his hand with a growl of disgust. "Don't touch me! We're done, Angel! You're out of chances! Now take your flunkies and sycophants and go do whatever it is you do when you're not being a complete asshat!"
A deep, cultured, British voice floated over the crowd of students, "That would seem a wise course of action, Mr. O'Connor. Leave this area immediately and report to my office, I have a few things I would like to discuss with you. The rest of you… disperse."
Considering the number of students gathered around, it really didn't take very long for them to disappear, leaving Spike, Buffy, and Mr. Giles alone in the suddenly deserted hallway. Mr. Giles stepped forward and leaned down to look at Spike. "Are you alright, Mr. Pratt? Do you require medical assistance?"
Spike shook his head and murmured, "No, sir. I'm fine."
Mr. Giles straightened up and looked at Buffy, still standing protectively over Spike. "Miss Summers, could you be a dear and assist Mr. Pratt? I have a miscreant in my office that needs attending to and I would like to have a few words with you as well, when you're finished."
Buffy nodded, "Sure, Mr. Giles." He dipped his head then turned and walked quickly down the hallway, pulling his glasses off and polishing them as he neared his office. Buffy looked back down at Spike and held out her hand. "Here, Spike, let me help you up."
Spike… who up until this point has been just laying there, completely gob smacked by the fact that the most beautiful girl in school even knew who he was… finally realized that her legs were spread wide as she straddled his chest. And she was wearing a cheerleading skirt. His face burned into a deep crimson as his eyes traveled up her shapely, tanned leg and screeched to a halt at the bit of cloth clinging to her…
Her snapping fingers drew his eyes up to her amused face. "Spike? I'm up here." She stepped to one side and reached down for his hand, wrapping her fingers tightly around it, and effortlessly pulled him to his feet.
Spike took his hand back, flexing his fingers, "Strong little thing, aren't you?"
She shrugged. "I work out." He smirked and adjusted the knapsack that was dangling forlornly by one strap. The other one was torn completely loose and was lying on the floor near their feet. She bent down and picked it up then held it out to him. "This goes to your bag, can you fix it?"
Spike slipped the remaining strap off his shoulder and pulled the bag around to his front, inspecting the damage. "Doesn't look like it. Think the strap is done for." He took the broken strap and stuffed it into the bag then shouldered it again and shrugged, "It's alright. It'll do. Uh… thanks." She smiled brightly and his breath caught in his throat and his heart started thumping so loudly in his chest that he missed her reply. He shook his head and smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, luv. What was that?"
She was still smiling… at him… she was smiling at him… and he had to force himself to focus on the words coming out of her mouth. "I said no problem and then I asked you what happened. Did Angel or one of the other football cretins do this?" She laid her hand gently on his stomach.
He looked down at her small hand on his stomach, the heat from it burning through his thick shirt, and hid his shame-filled face behind his hair. "Uh… no. It's nothin'. Uh… look… I should go. Thanks again… Buffy."
She dropped her hand as he backed up a step, then turned and walked the remaining ten feet to his classroom door. He peeked through the window as he opened the door, then ducked inside, pushing the door shut quietly behind him. She looked down at her hand, still tingling from touching him, and with a loud sigh, made her way to the office.
Ok, there's the first chapter. Please let me know what you think… *Holds breath and bites lip.*