Buffy the Vampire Slayer Preferences + imagines/one shots

Dark Willow Imagine (ft. Spike + Dawn)

She kicked me for good measure, straight in the gut. More blood spilled past my lips.

"Now, as always, I've got to do the hard work myself. Thank you for nothing."

And with that, she disappeared, leaving me alone and bleeding in my tiny apartment that smelt like copper and sweat. I mustered up all my strength and pulled myself off the floor. My head throbbed as I dialled Buffy's number on my landline - she picked up on the first ring. 

"Willow... she's... going after... Jonathon."

"We thought so. Wait, was she there? That happened? Y/N, did she hurt you?"

I hung up, just as I felt myself slipping out of consciousness. I hit my head on something hard as I collapsed on the floor again. 

-----

I awoke to a hammering at my door, followed by a man frantically shouting my name. 

I whimpered - someone was shaking me. Small hands wrapped tight around my shoulders, shaking me desperately. She was whimpering too. 

I coughed and looked helplessly at the sticky, red blood that fell on my shirt. The girl made a choked noise and my wits returned - it was Dawn. 

"Invite me in! Y/N! Invite me in, dammit!"

I looked up and saw Spike standing in the doorway. My door was swung all the way open but he stood helplessly before the threshold. Of course. 

"Come in." I said. 

Faster than lightening, Spike scooped Dawn up and - with more care than one should act with in this situation - took her into my bathroom. He was telling her something I couldn't hear but I felt terrible. I must have scared her so much. My stomach churned. 

Spike darted out of the room a few seconds later, making sure to shut the door behind him. He shut my front door too before dropping down to my level. 

"What did she do?" he asked quietly. He didn't expect an answer, it was clear whatever she had done wasn't good. "Can you walk?"

I nodded, the memory of what had happened aching more than my actual body. With his assistance, we made it over to the sofa. My eyes widened as I saw the mess of blood on my cream carpet. How much had I lost? 

"Did all that come from my mouth?" I said aloud, not really meaning to. Spike took a second to register what I was asking.

"Your head, too." he replied. I reached up with a shaking hand but Spike grabbed it before I could feel whatever wound was bleeding on my head. He lessened his grip as he lowered our hands. "Not a good idea, pet. It's not pretty."

"Where is it?" Was all I thought to ask. Would it need stitches? I did not want stitches. 

"Across your forehead. Will you stay here and stay still while I get some bandages?"

"Above the microwave." I told him. 

He left but I didn't even have time to gather my thoughts because he returned so quickly. I closed my eyes because the look of worry on Spike's face was making me feel a million times worse. 

"Is she okay?" A hoarse, squeaky voice called from the bathroom. My heart felt like it had been put in a blender. 

"I'm ok, Dawn! We - we won't be long." My throat burned as I said it, but I tried to make my voice as level and reassuring as possible. 

"Ok!" she shouted back. I opened my eyes and shared a sad, guilty glance with Spike. He must have hated as much as me that Dawn had to be the one to come in first because he physically couldn't without my invitation. I'm glad that he immediately removed her from the room when he came in. That poor girl has been through enough trauma to last three lifetimes.  

I had to be strong for her.

Spike, with practised and gentle hands, wrapped up whatever cut was on my forehead. I'm still unsure what I hit it on. I presumed that meant no stitches, although I had to get some later than night. Dried blood stained my cheeks, chin and neck - Spike got a damp tea-towel from the kitchen. The white was soon not visible in the red and white plaid pattern. I shook like a leaf the entire time. 

He tossed the bandages and towel onto my coffee table. I started to cry as he took my hands in his. They continued to shake. I was embarrassed, despite myself, and wanted to snatch them away.

"She can't hurt you now."

It was a lie. She could have come back at any moment and done anything - we would've been powerless to stop her. But I let myself believe it.

"Did Dawn really find Tara's body?"

Spike sucked in a breath he didn't need. "Yes."

My throat felt sticky. My cheeks were wet. The flow of tears didn't grow more intense, but they didn't stop either. 

"I don't want her to see me like this. No more than she already has."

It was the least I could do. 

"You don't look as... frightening anymore." he said quietly. 

I wanted to keep crying. I wanted to melt into my sofa and let the grief wash over me but I couldn't. 

"Get me a tissue." Spike nodded, stood, and found some from God knows where. He mopped up my face and we sat in silence until the redness in my eyes had reduced. Until my nose wasn't scarlet and my cheeks were as dry as my mouth. 

Spike cupped one of my cheeks with his hand. It was a moment I will never forget. It was something so... comforting. He cupped my cheek with a cold hand, dried blood caked into the lines of his palm. He brushed a thumb over my cheek with a softness I didn't think he possessed. 

We washed our hands before we let Dawn come in. We covered the stained carpet with newspaper and Spike replaced the bandage around my head with a fresh one. I placed the phone - which had been dangling off the table - back in its holder. 

It was obvious she'd been crying but nobody acknowledged it. When she came out, she beelined for me and wrapped me up in a gentle hug, as if she may break me. It did.

"I'm okay, Dawnie." I whispered. She pulled back, kissed my cheek, blinked a few times.

"I couldn't lose you and Tara in the same day." she hugged me again and it took every ounce of strength in me to not break down in tears again. I glanced at Spike over her shoulder and I had never noticed how protective and caring his gaze was when he looked at Dawn. 

"Dawn," his voice was thick as he broke the silence, "Y/N, do you want to stay here? Or go back to my place?"

I wanted to go to his crypt. Leave what happened here behind me and unpack it another day. Clean my carpet and pick up the remains of the mirror that littered the floor another day.

It wasn't up to me. I looked at Dawn. 

She took my hand. 

"Let's go."

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