Victims of Fate by ya_lublyu_tebya

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Chapter 17: Rupture

They were both silent for long minutes, until finally she spoke up.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” he murmured, “Knew what to expect.”

They fell silent again and she sighed, wishing things with her friends weren’t so weird after everything with Angel.

“I like the wolf. He’s got class.”

She turned to him in surprise, dragged out of her thoughts.

“How do you know he’s a werewolf?”

“Could smell it on him. Must be hard on Red. Boyfriend turns into a monster once a month.”

“At least he turns back though,” she whispered sadly, “And he doesn’t get a chance to hurt anybody.”

“How so?”

“We lock him up during the full moon.”

He gave a snort that might have been amusement and she turned to him in surprise again.

“Sorry,” he murmured, “S’just… you know locking him up doesn’t change what he is, right?”

“It stops him from hurting people.”

“Maybe. But one day… Never mind.”

She was tempted to push him to continue, but she was almost convinced she didn’t want to know what he was thinking, judging by the dark shadow in his expression.



They reached one of the large cemeteries about ten minutes later and she was instantly on the lookout. She could feel the urge to fight spreading through her, setting every nerve ending alight, bringing her to life. And all the time, the constant sharp prickle at the back of her neck, warning her of Spike’s presence at her back. Not that he constituted much of a threat anymore – but it was nice to know her Slayer awareness was on top form. If only there was an actual threat to deal with though…

After fifteen minutes, she was starting to get impatient and she suggested they move on to another cemetery.

“You really love this,” Spike commented and she stopped in surprise.

“I don’t love it, I just… this is what I do. It’s my job.”

“Tell me you wouldn’t be overjoyed if a vamp appeared right now.”

“Well, yeah, but just because I’m bored, not because I like violence.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her but she was so pleased to see him back to some of his old mannerisms that she almost forgot what he seemed to be doubting.

“Let’s go,” she commented with a smile and a roll of her eyes and they headed for the large gates.

Just before they reached the exit though, she suddenly noticed Spike straighten up, vampire senses seemingly picking up on something she hadn’t noticed yet. He decided not to share though and she frowned, turning back to the path – and almost colliding with a figure stood in the gate. She came to an abrupt stop and gasped, eyes flying to brown ones before she quickly shut down her expressions, arms crossing across her chest.

“Angel.”

“Buffy,” he breathed, dark eyes fixed on her for a long moment before he glanced at Spike, “Spike, nice to see you up and about.”



“Don’t get too excited, eh, old man,” Spike retorted, the smirk she hadn’t seen in so long spreading across his face, “After all, wouldn’t want that pesky curse to kick in, would we?”

“Your pesky curse as well now, Spike.”

“Well, yeah,” he murmured, subdued.

“If you’re finished, boys,” she stated pointedly, turning back to Angel, “What do you want?”

“I know you said to stay away but I… I had to see you, Buffy. I needed to talk to you… maybe explain-“

“How you gonna explain it away then, Peaches?” Spike piped up, “Fit of passion?”

She was almost glad that riling up his grandsire restored some of Spike’s former liveliness, but still wasn’t sure it was great, for any of them. Angel didn’t look overly happy and she was sure he had been practising that displeased scowl on her, only to test out the finished product on Spike.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Well, I’d like an explanation myself,” Spike remarked, eyes just flicking to hers with a hint of uncertainty before he squared up to his grandsire again, “After all, I was the one you were trying to off.”

“Spike, I swear-“ Angel bit out, taking a step forward, fist clenched.

“Don’t even think about it, Peaches,” Spike snarled, “I’m compos mentis now so you try anything, you’re going to regret it, trust me. About time I got you back for all the crap you gave me when I was in that chair!”

She could clearly see that what had been harmless taunting was turning into something serious – could spot the signs on both vampires’ faces – and she stepped in between them, placing a hand on Spike’s chest.

“Spike.”



He eased off with a nod and took a step back as she turned to Angel.

“So talk… and make it quick.”

“Can we go somewhere private?” he asked quietly, gaze flicking to his grandchilde.

“Anything you’ve got to say, you can say in front of Spike.”

His expression was a mixture of suppressed anger and surprise but she refused to budge, arms crossed tightly across her chest. His expression softened into that look she knew so well and she felt her heart jump involuntarily.

“I’m leaving.”

There was a full minute of silence before she finally got herself together.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” she whispered, hating how weak her voice sounded.

“I’m leaving Sunnydale,” he repeated softly, eyes darting behind her and back to hers again, “I can’t stay, Buffy.”

“You… I don’t understand,” she murmured, fighting the tears that seemed all too ready to flow nowadays.

“I’ve been thinking about it non-stop since… I have to, Buffy. For… for us. For you. You said you didn’t want to see me-”

“I didn’t mean you had to leave town!” she protested shakily, her voice thick with emotion, “I just meant… I just needed space.”

“You need someone… someone real. Someone who can be with you properly.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” she murmured, one hand going to her pounding head.

“It’s for the best.”



She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak – trapped in the awful realisation that her life was falling apart right in front of her eyes.

“Buffy.”

Angel had stepped forward and gently took her arm but she shook him off, his movement drawing her out of her daze.

“How could you?” she whispered heartbrokenly and she saw his face twist with guilt.

“Buffy-“

He went to reach for her again but she evaded his grip, turning away from him.

“Just leave me alone.”

He hesitated and she could feel his eyes on her but she refused to meet his gaze.

“I’ll let you know when I’m going,” he murmured softly but she made no response and she finally heard him move away.

She stood there in stunned silence, one shaking hand coming to cover her mouth, eyes closed to force back the tears. She jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder – she had forgotten about Spike’s presence – but when she looked up and met his compassionate gaze, she sagged. He caught her before she could hit the floor and held her tightly as she sobbed bitterly, her heart shattering in that moment.

She was only marginally aware as he wrapped an arm around her waist and began to guide her out of the cemetery and back home. She couldn’t stop the tears – you’d think she’d have run out by now – and she buried her head against his shoulder as they made their way slowly across town.



She only realised where she was when they entered her house and she straightened, listening intently for her mother. She couldn’t bear facing her right now.

“Come on,” Spike coaxed softly, hand at her elbow, “She’s asleep.”

With his supporting hand at her elbow, she tiptoed up the stairs, her hand shaking as she braced herself against the banister. She opened the door to her room wearily and sank onto the edge of the bed. She had thought the idea of not seeing Angel for a few days – maybe weeks – was painful enough, but this, this was whole new heights of pain. He was leaving her… She didn’t realise she had spoken out loud, or that Spike was still by her side, until he answered softly.

“He’s an idiot,” he murmured, on his knees as he slipped off her boots. He straightened and coaxed her jacket from her shoulders.

“Come on, lie down and try to get some sleep.”

“How can I sleep when…”

“I know,” he soothed, placing her jacket on a chair and returning to her side, gently guiding her under the covers, “Just try though. Save it till the morning, yeah?”

His voice was softer than ever, his hand caressing her hair as she curled up, tears still trailing down her cheeks. Spike went to move but she caught his arm, halting him.

“Stay with me. Please.”

He nodded and shifted onto the bed, propped up awkwardly against the headboard beside her.

“It hurts,” she choked out painfully.

“I know,” he whispered, his hand continuing its soft caress.

Sniffling miserably, she shuffled over until she could rest her head against him, needing the comfort of a gentle touch. He wrapped one arm around her tightly, holding her against him as she cried herself to sleep.

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