TITLE: Written in Blood
EMAIL: ophelia_rd@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: Joss, not I.
DISTRIBUTION: Let me know where it's going
RATING: M
PART: 2/?
FEEDBACK: Yes please!!!
VISIT ME: http://au.oocities.com/dra_gon_fly_er/
Written in Blood
"But why?"
With an exhausted sigh Riley buried his face in the heels of his hands.
He couldn't remember how many times she'd been trying to drill into him - all he knew was that he was sick of her asking questions, especially questions he couldn't answer, questions he didn't dare to answer to himself.
The first couple of times he'd even tried to explain, tried to put in terms he hoped she would understand. Unfortunately he had to learn, that she wasn't really interested in anything he wanted to say.
She had made up her mind the very second she'd set eyes on his marked and scared figure.
Why?
One look in her eyes and he'd known that she wasn't interested in the truth. It almost seemed to him as though she felt that if only she mulled things over often enough her mind would eventually come up with some kind of logical explanation that would allow her to slight his obvious betrayal.
Two days had passed since she had come to his rescue.
Two days had passed since she had forced her way back into his life.
Two days had passed since he had last seen Drusilla.
Two days had passed since he had last felt whole and alive.
He could still feel her hovering at the edge of his mind, however, the strange bond they were sharing was fading by the hour.
How many times had he mentally cried out?
How many times had he mentally pleaded her to come back for him?
How many times had he mentally begged her no to leave her in the eager yet somewhat ignorant care of the slayer?
Funny, until now he hadn't even realized he'd started to think of her as the slayer.
All the love and devotion he had felt for her at some stage had fled his soul.
It almost felt as though something inside of him had died - not so much when she'd walked out on him some 5 odd months ago, then too, of course, the pain had crushed and broken his spirit and heart, but surprisingly the feeling, or should he rather say un-feeling, had started the very moment she'd forced him to abandon Drusilla.
Drusilla!!!
DUSILLA!!!
D R U S I L L A ! ! !
She had to feel something for him.
Why else would she have bothered to arrange for her mortal enemy to rescue him?
Why else would she have bothered to shield him from their unholy connection?
Oh yeah, he could see her point.
A vampire and a clingy and weak, ex wannabe slayer...
Sometimes he didn't recognize himself.
He was disgusted with what he had allowed that blonde kid to do to him.
He had loved her with all his hear, with all his soul and with everything that was him.
He had given himself to her - totally and without holding back - only to have his gift turned against him and used to manipulate and hurt him in the worst possible ways.
Sure thing he could never compare to her angel.
He didn't have, never would have, his dark, enigmatic aura, or his appropriate fashion sense, or his beautiful, pale features...
Yes, he was so nothing like him - like a sweaty hot mid-summer day couldn't hold its own with the proud, jet black beauty of the night. Where the night was full of mysteries and wonder the unmerciful light of the sun ruffled what rather remained undisturbed and exposed what rather remained in the dark.
"Riley?"
The slayer's harsh voice cut through his depressive downwards spiral of thoughts.
Her hazel eyes were boring into his skull and by the way her delicate brows had joined in one straight line Riley assumed it wasn't the first time she had tried to get through to him.
He acknowledged her gaze with a weak shrug and immediately lowered his eyes.
He didn't want to talk to her, he didn't want to explain to her how he got the bites.
And most important, he didn't want her to find out about Drusilla.
So far the vampiress leading her into the abandoned old warehouse was nothing but a coincident and he would be damned if he told her different, maybe even put Dru's life at stake in the process.
"God-damn it, Riley!
He most definitely snapped out of whatever daydream or nightmare his mind had been preoccupied with.
"Slay-eh-Buffy?"
He had to force himself to call her by her given name.
Her eyes clearly stated how big a liability he had become to her and judging from her hard, impatient look, he knew he was only seconds away from being seriously tongue-lashed.
He sighed - what the heck...
Avoiding to directly meet her eyes Riley gazed at some invisible point behind her back and concentrated on tuning out her sure to come lecture.
Nothing he did, had done, or had planned to do made sense to him anymore.
All his dreams and future plans all of a sudden didn't seemed to be worth the effort.
He was pathetic.
A nothing, a failure not even Drusilla could have beard having around.
With this perfectly clear - there was only one thing left for him to do...
***
This was getting ridiculous.
How was she supposed to take care about him, if he didn't open up to her.
What was she supposed to make of the circumstances she'd stumbled across him?
Lingering in an abandoned old ware house, with vampire bites all over his body?
Even now, after two days trying to get re-accustomed to him, Buffy barely recognized Riley Finn. The person she was dealing with couldn't have been more different to the Riley Finn she had been dating for almost one year.
He had always been so strong, so independent and strong.
How could he possibly have lost all of this in that short a time?
Alright, maybe she hadn't been able to love him the way he'd wished for himself to be loved - the way she's loved Angel and ever so slowly started to feel towards Spike - but still, she'd always admired his strength, his ability to remain cool and undetached...
However, the person sitting in front of her now, in his defensive, tense manner - with his slightly bend shoulders and empty brown eyes - he was nothing but a shell, somebody she wouldn't have spared a second look, since there wasn't a single cell about him that didn't scream failure.
What the fuck was this all about?
She didn't have the time to pamper his batty and twisted male ego.
Why couldn't he just tell her who'd done this to him, so she could go and dust the damn wankers? It was getting on her nerves and to be perfectly honest watching her ex withering like this sorta gave her the wiggins plus it really unnerved Spike that "Captain America" had wormed his way back into her life.
"Riley, I need you to talk to me! - You hear me? I need you to tell exactly me what happened the night I got you out of that storage room!"
He didn't even tried to meet her eyes.
Something definitely was wrong, Riley never used to act like this around her.
Sure, he had been bitten, but so had she and she had never allowed it to affect her in that profound a way - this was so not good! From the way he was acting she was pretty much convinced that he was hiding something from her, but why would he voluntarily protect an HST? And how did Drusilla fit in the picture?
Not that he'd ever mentioned her name, but something about the way he'd looked at her, the way he had mouthed her name, or her eyes had lit up and the relief that she could have sworn had been washing over him for the tiniest fracture of a second.
Oh yeah, there was one thing she knew definitely and for sure!
She had to get through to him, so she could appropriately deal with the whole, god-damned, fucked-up situation. After that there'd be only one thing left for her to do - get rid of this thing that once had been Finn, since seeing him like this was only serving one purpose - disgusting her and making her sick.
***
There wasn't much she could do.
Not with Riley staying at the slayer's.
Especially not since she, Drusilla herself, had arranged for him to be at the very place.
Far away from any threatening vampires - alright not really far away, with the blonde twit being the slayer - but at save and sound as she could have wished him to be.
However...
How come, she didn't feel better?
More victorious?
More relieved?
Calmer?
And how come, she could sense the boy growing weaker and more desperate by the minute?
No matter how hard she tried to block out his annoying pleas for her to come back, and no matter how often she told herself leaving him with the slayer had been the right thing to do, the vampiress ever so slowly started to wonder what the heck her blonde nemesis and her faithful sidekicks were doing to the kid. Especially since the only vibes she'd been able to pick up had been more desperate and more depressed than anything she had ever sensed before.
Something was wrong.
Something definitely was wrong.
The dark vampiress drew in a deep unneeded breath, there was no way for her to simply walk up on Goldilocks and demand her to justify her inconsiderate behavior.
She sighed, there really wasn't all that much she could do about her boy's current situation - right?
***
"That's it, I'm so done this bloody rotten baby-sitting ordeal!!!" The peroxide blonde vampire growled under his breath, busy wearing a hole in the living room carpet.
It had been close to three weeks by now, since what the Summers-Atherton household referred to as the Drusilla-Incident.
Three weeks since Captain Beefsteak had returned to Sunnydale and upset the fortunately not so frail order and every-day routine Buffy and Spike had created for the Niblet and themselves.
Three weeks and still they wouldn't have a clue as to why Dru would have lead Buffy straight to the whereabouts of GI Joe and that his ducks had done just that, Spike never doubted.
At first Buffy had been convinced that it must have happened on accident, after all how could the dark vampiress have known about Riley hiding out at the very ware house and even more important why would she care enough for the mortal to go and get the slayer to come to his rescue? However, the longer they'd discussed the story the more she'd come to accept his point, especially since he'd come up with a matching set of fang marks his sire had put on him some 130-odd years in the past.
Spike shuddered by the mere thought of the kid's marked and scarred body. And he didn't even want to think about the mental state the boy had to be in, lucky him, it had been a good, long time since he'd last seen a person remotely close to their much despised house guest's spiritual shape.
It didn't really explain why Drusilla had taken pity on the boy and arranged for Buffy to find him, however, to him it explained one thing; she cared - his sire sincerely cared about the young man.
But still, in all that three weeks there hadn't been a day that he hadn't cursed the PTB's ill sense of humor.
In the beginning he'd been worried sick about the effects Riley's reappearance would have on his relationship with Buffy, because despite his usual though-guy-talk at times he still felt rather unsure about his position in his blonde goddess' life.
Particularly, because she'd been somewhat ecstatic about tank-head's return - at least as far as the first 24 hours had been concerned. She'd told him that she wanted Riley and her to be friends, the way they'd be friends way before their disastrous relationship.
24 hours of watching the git had changed her noble mind rather quickly. Riley had changed, Spike had smelled it the moment she'd dragged the boy across their threshold. His usual aura of innocence and kindness had been nowhere to be found.
She had tried so hard - they all had - offering friendship and understanding, still they had been declined. Oh, not openly and in a violent manner, but subtle and with, in Buffy's case, painful indifference.
Alright, maybe such behavior was normal after the terrors Captain America had been put through, but three weeks should be plenty to snap out of it - right?
Maybe she should have left him to die, what good di it do them to force him to live if the blond idiot so obviously wanted to die?
He didn't eat or drink on his own account, nor did he change clothes or take a shower; or brush his teeth, or comb his hair without Buffy explicitly telling him so, let alone clip his finger and toe nails or go to the loo.
Their nerves lay blank and despite his as involuntarily as unwanted pity for their infantile house guest Spike was fighting the increasing urge to wag the git on the head and tell him to get a grip.
He knew, Buffy would have his balls on a stick if he acted on this impulse, still, a guy could dream...
A steep frown scurried across his smooth forehead, as he watched the sleeping boy pant and struggle in his dreams.
His face was just as pale as the vampire's and he'd lost a good 15 pounds since Buffy had moved him into her mom's room.
This wasn't good.
They all knew it, but didn't know what to do.
But something had to be done - and since Riley wouldn't spill..., Spike all of a sudden felt the overwhelming urge to pay his respect to his sire!
more to come