Mad Season

TITLE: Mad Season (Part Seven of Red's Fire)
AUTHOR: Tienco (tienco@msn.com)
COUPLE: Willow/Spike
RATING: R
DISTRIBUTION: My site and Jinni's site. All others please ask. (Jai too, cause she's gonna post it. :))
DISCLAIMER: All belongs to Joss Whedon. Gosh, I wish I were Joss. I'd have such a good time with Spike. . .and Angel. . .and Xander. . .and Graham. . . and Lindsey. . .throw Willow and Faith in there and it's a party!! MatchBox 20 owns 'Mad Season.'(quoted loosely throughout the fic)
FEEDBACK: Of *course*. Makes me write more.
SPOILERS: Mentions stuff that happens at the end of Season Four.
SUMMARY: Willow gets angry, and decides to do something about it. . .
NOTES: The two of us (Jinni and Tienco) are planning to write several more of these fics, in Willow and Spike's POV, all based on MatchBox 20 songs, cause, well, there are so many that are perfect to this relationship we've created.
NOTES 2: This takes place during their sophomore year. Everything else you will be able to pick up from the storyline.
DEDICATION: For Jinni. Thank *god* she's back from vacation. . .but she doesn't feel good. :( Hope you feel better, sweetie.

** ** **

I woke up with a slight groan. My body ached, my vision was hazy, and I was against something hard and cold. "Ug," I said softly, turning. I yelped slightly, moving away from his still form. It was Spike, of course. He was dead asleep. And when I say dead, I mean literally.

I leaned towards him, pushing his chest slightly. No normal raising and falling of the chest, no breathing, nothing. He wasn't cold, like a normal dead body - it's truly sad that I'm 20 years old and have seen more dead bodies than most people do in their entire lives, yet something else to thank Buffy Summers for - but he was cool.

I was a necrophiliac.

That bothered me. It really did. I mean, I guess technically, I wasn't, since he was an animated corpse, but. . .

I shivered, slipping out of bed. I had to get away from him, from his cool body and long fingers, from that blonde hair and those blue eyes, the lashes fluttering against his cheeks, from the small kisses he placed on the hollow of my throat, from the fangs that sunk so desperately into my skin. . .

I was suffocating.

He wanted me. All of me. He wanted everything I am, everything I was, everything I ever will be. And I had given him permission to have it, all for Xander's life.

My goddess, what have I done?

I feel stupid. . .but I know it won't last for long. I've been guessing. . .I could've been guessing wrong. . .Buffy doesn't know me now. I thought she should, she should know what I've done for her, what I've been through - for her. If she could have used her brain to comprehend that. . .I wouldn't be in this situation now. I wouldn't be struggling in pain to make it to the bathroom, I wouldn't be about to cry.

This whole mad season has got me down.

I made it to the bathroom and gasped at my reflection. I was pale, my skin was tight. I had bloodshot eyes framed with black circles. I had a slight cut on my lip from kissing Spike in gameface, and I had those two prominent holes in my neck.

I leaned forward, studying them. They were deep. . .oh goddess. . .I hoped they weren't deep enough to where he claimed me. . .but I was sure they were.

Spike never did anything half assed.

So now I belonged to him, body, heart and soul. I didn't back down on my promises, and I promised him my heart and soul last night. He owned my body, and every demon in Sunnydale would know it.

Somehow, that didn't comfort me.

I'd been changing. . .thought it was funny how no one knew. We didn't talk about the little things that we did without.

I started to sob.

"Pet?"

I looked up at him, standing there at the door, actually looking like he gave a damn. I knew he didn't. I was just something for him to control, something he could shape into the idea of the perfect mate. He didn't give a damn about me. . .about who I really was. He wanted the darkness, but he didn't care for the fluffy part of my soul, and I knew that.

And yet. . .seeing him stand there, leaning against the door, arms crossed over his pale lean chest, jeans riding low on his hips. . .it calmed me somewhat. It was comforting watching him, as if he was the beginning and the end, and everything in between. He was the storm, and my shelter to said storm.

"So why ya gotta stand there, looking like the answer now? It seems to me, you'd come around. . .I need you now. Do you think you can cope? You figured me out, Spike, I'm lost and I'm hopeless. . .bleeding and broken. Though I've never spoken. . .I come undone in this mad season."

Confusion passed over his face. "Red?"

"I feel stupid, but I think I've been catchin' on. I feel ugly, but I know I still turn you on. . ." I turned slightly, tears streaming down my face. "So are you gonna stand there, are you gonna help me out? You need to be together now. . .I need you now, Spike. Goddess, I need you."

He reached out to me and pulled me to him just as I was about to collapse. I buried my face in his neck, sobbing. He held me, but he wasn't as comforting as a non-demon type would have been. He wasn't as comforting as. . .Xander would have been.

I sobbed harder. "Now I'm crying. . .isn't that what you want? I'm trying to live my life on my own, but I won't. At times, I do believe I'm strong. . ." I look up at him. "But do you know what I've done, in this mad season?"

His blue eyes flickered with curiosity. "What's that, pet?" he asked softly.

"I've walked away from needing Buffy. . .to needing you," I whispered into his pale skin.

*~*~*~*

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