Death Wish

by SpikesKat

Great minds have purposes, little minds have— 

“Wishes” was the word that sprang immediately to Spike’s mind, and he shook his head frowning. 

“More like a death wish,” he sighed, shoulders drooping as the Slayer slipped out the front door unnoticed by anyone but him. 

But then, that would mean the Slayer had a little mind. Though, seeing her now – post Heaven – he couldn’t say he was wrong. She’d never been possessed of a great mind, leaving that for the likes of the watcher and her witch friend, but she’d definitely had a purpose. 

Now her mind was occupied with death, with ways of accomplishing it without outright killing herself. Twice now, he’d had to intervene, literally ripping the heads off her opponents just before they’d had their one good day. 

The hell of it was, he couldn’t rightly blame her. 

Her friends had done her a disservice, yanking her from a well-deserved rest because they couldn’t deal with her absence from their lives. 

He hadn’t been dealing either, but he wouldn’t have sacrificed the Slayer’s happiness for his own gain. He loved her too much. 

Sticking to the shadows, he trailed behind her, ready to step in if needed. If she was aware of his presence, she gave no indication as she walked through town, finally entering a cemetery not far from the college campus. 

His eyes widened when she flung open a crypt door and, calmly as you pleased, walked into a vampire nest. 

“Buffy!” he shouted and raced after her. 

He wasn’t far behind, but given her lackluster fighting attempts these last few days and the number of vampires inside, it wouldn’t take but a handful of seconds for it to be over. 

Time seemed to stand still when he entered the crypt. Two vampires had the Slayer in their grasp and another four surrounded them. The one in front of her was bending down, ready to sink his fangs into her neck. 

He never got the opportunity. 

There was something to be said for berserker rage. 

He pushed his way through the circle and had staked the leader before anyone had time to react. The Slayer stumbled and he flung her away, barely registering her oomph of pain as her body collided with the wall. The first vampire that started in her direction was the next one that died. Then it was a matter of picking them off one by one, fighting with fists and fangs until he ended it with a stake to the heart – not stopping until the room was filled with their dust. 

Only then did he turn towards the Slayer. 

She was slumped against the wall, unconscious. 

He hurried forward and scooped her up into his arms. The smell of her blood was heavy in the air, coming from a wound on the back of her head. 

A wound he had given her. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Spike was sitting under a tree on a hill overlooking Sunnydale when the Slayer finally woke. 

“I’m tired, Spike,” she whispered. 

“I know, luv.” There were tears in his eyes. 

“You hurt me.” 

No accusation, just an observation. 

“Yes.” 

“You could—” 

She didn’t say it, but he knew what she meant. 

“Yes.” It was little more than an exhalation of breath, the beginnings of a sob. 

“Please, Spike.” 

Spike closed his eyes and silently wept. Clutching the Slayer tightly to his chest, he nodded. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Giles was the one that found her, having performed the locator spell himself. She looked peaceful in death, stretched out beneath the tree – and if he wasn’t mistaken, covered with Spike’s dusty leather coat.

The End

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