Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, etc. own everything. I own nothing.
Summary: Post "The Gift" Dawn died instead of Buffy, so Buffy leaves town with Spike, following through on her statement about quitting if Dawn died. His POV while on the road.
Down the Road
It's been a month, and here we are, two emotionally crippled beings. Of course, she's still living, where I am not. I can see her back rise and fall with each breath she takes as she relives the nightmare that is her life. She's dreaming of course, but it's always the same. I know, because she tells me.
Without words she tells me every day. When I come back from the club, she grabs me as I walk in and I know that it's happened again. I know, because the only way for her to forget, even for a moment, is to be with me.
I'm a complete wanker for letting her use me. I'm also a prick for the fact that I'm using her too, although she'll never know it. I need to forget just as much as she does. And in her body, I do, for just a brief space in time. Bloody hell, I'm sounding like William.
Dawn liked William. I used to tell her stories of life as William. Once I even let her get a small glimpse of what he'd been like when I let her read some of his poetry. I never told her that it was actually mine. I can just see her face lighting up as she thinks about what her sister will say when she learns that Spike writes poetry. That never happened though. And now it never would.
That night, I nearly killed the whelp for what he did. It took Red and the Watcher to pull me off of him, despite the fact that the sodding chip was turning my brain to mush and I had several broken bones. I was told to go, that they would take care of Buffy and the others. I guess they did. I wouldn't know, because for once I actually listened to them and went back to my crypt. All I wanted that night was some good scotch and oblivion. What I never expected was for the Slayer to show up three hours later, a duffel back slung over her shoulder.
I remember trying to hide the fact that I had been crying. I cried for Dawn, who had been like a sister to me. I cried for all the things she wouldn't experience and how it wasn't fair that a good soul like her was taken from the earth, while I, the Big Bad, was left to roam it.
At first I wasn't sure why she was there. It wasn't like she thought I cared about anyone but myself. But then I understood. I saw it in those stunning hazel eyes that haunted every bloody dream I had. She was leaving and she wanted me to go with her.
I remember asking her why. What she said floored me. "You almost died for her. I trust you because of that." And, despite my grief, I felt happy at hearing her words. So here we are, in Seattle for the moment. We've been on the run ever since leaving Sunnyhell, working odd jobs as we go.
Even though I love her, one day I know it will end. I'll wake up and she'll be gone. The road and I are just a temporary fix, something to help her cope. When her grieving is over and she comes to her senses, she will go back to the town that destroyed her, back to the job that she was destined to do. And I will go on, not looking back, but not looking forward either, because when she leaves, my heart will go with her, and I will continue down the road.