Title: Worth Dying For
Author: Jessa (jessa_88@hotmail.com)
Disclaimer: The character's aren't mine. The story is. Spoilers: up to 'The Body'
Distribution: my site, Trish's site, anyone else just email me and tell me where it's going
Feedback: Yes yes yes! I thrive on it.
Acknowledgements: Dedicated to Trish for being such an awesome help in beta-ing and just because she's awesome ;)

~*~ Worth Dying For By: Jessa ~*~


The man with soul of dead
who walks in darkness
shall risk all for love's sake
and be born again -
into light


Part 1

Spike had lain awake all night. The fact that he usually slept during the day seemed irrelevant because he didn't sleep then either. Whenever he closed his eyes the Slayer plagued his dreams. Although he could never, even in his deepest sleep, see her beautiful face as a plague. It didn't matter anyway. She was with him when his eyes were open too, but at least his daydreams were easier to control. That's why he chose to lay awake tormented or blessed, depending on his mood, by the face of the Slayer, trying not to imagine how silky warm her skin would feel contrasted to his.

She was the perfect combination of softness and strength. She always smelled of ripe strawberries, except for on Sundays when she used a special Lavender conditioner that left her golden locks especially silky beneath his hands. At least he imagined them that way, when really he'd only gotten quick sniffs and an occasional brush against his arm. But somehow even that was enough to leave him breathless, had he needed air to breathe. She was his beautiful Slayer. She ?

"Drat!" he exclaimed trying to lose the mental images. He really had to stop going off on these mental rants all the time.

Crawling from his bed Spike looked around at the bleakness of his crypt. Immediately his mind drifted to what it would be like to bring the Slayer here. She'd come in after patrol complaining of her aching muscles and he'd offer her a massage, using his well sculpted hands to knead away the tension. He could almost feel the softness of her skin beneath his hands ?

'I should have just tried to sleep,' Spike thought in disdain as he paced around his crypt. 'At least I can blame the dreams on hormones.' Distracted by his thoughts Spike tripped over something and his normally graceful form went flying face first into the floor.

"Bloody hell--" he groaned lifting a hand to his head and growling in a very non-human way. He picked himself off the ground, all the while muttering obscenities about how the Slayer had not only taken his dignity she'd taken his poise. Then he looked around for the cause of his momentary pain in order to let out his frustrations at the Slayer situation on it. Glancing down Spike saw a large piece of wood, one of the remains of his shrine to the very source of his frustration. He growled again, this time because it brought to mind her most recent and painful rejection.

Spike knew as well as anyone that his obsession with the Slayer was unhealthy. It wasn't that he was so much neurotically fixated on her, he had just grown very restless. He admitted now that he'd had feelings for the Slayer from the moment he laid eyes on her but in the past he could always push them aside by killing everything in sight or using his supposed desire to kill her as an excuse for his thoughts. Now, the bloody chip had left him with no choice but to face up to his feelings and once he had, with nothing but demons to take out his aggressions on, the obsession formed of it's own will. Drawing pictures of her, sneaking into her house, spending hours outside her window. It gave him something to focus on, it gave him a purpose. It wasn't just an obsession to him. He really did love the Slayer, as much as, if not more than, Druscilla. He had been equally transfixed by his Black Beauty, it was just his nature, both human and demon, to do so.

However, it was getting harder and harder for Spike to keep living, or he supposed, unliving in Sunnyhell. The Slayer was really the only thing keeping him alive. So he was selfish. So he stayed here because he needed to know that there really was a point to it all. That there was still something here for him.

Even if it was just another version of hell.


Part Two



Back to Fanfiction