Between Darkness and Light, Part 16

I walk slowly back toward the mansion, sad and scared. Sad because I must leave my friends and everyone who ever cared for me, and scared because I must now get Spike to leave without telling him the real reason why. Let's see... I could tell him that Sunnydale's boring and I want to go find Buffy so I can kill a slayer, too. No, he doesn't know that Buffy's gone, and if I tell him, he'll definitely go, but then either he or I will have to kill her, and I don't want that. Or maybe I could say that Sunnydale's too dangerous for me right now, and I need to go somewhere without a slayer so I can adjust to the whole "being a vampire" thing. Who am I kidding? After all my protestations that I'm strong enough to go out on my own and take care of myself, I expect him to accept that I've decided I'm too weak to survive here? That's not very likely. What can I tell him?

I look around and find that I am already at the mansion. Great. Well, at least I have the rest of the week to figure something out. Maybe the dolls will tell me something useful. I turn the corner and walk down the short hall to my room. The door is slightly ajar. I thought I'd pushed it closed when I left. I guess not. I'll have to be more careful next time. Not that there will ever be a next time. It's a good thing Spike decided to ignore me for a week. He'd surely notice that. I cross the room to the small closet now full of the clothes Spike bought for me. The dress I now wear is wrinkled and dirty from lying on the floor all day. I pull out another, this one a long and flowing sheath of midnight blue.

"Did you enjoy your outing, pet?" I turn and freeze, the dress slipping through my fingers and falling to the floor. Spike sat watching me from the vanity chair.

"I... uh... I thought you were going to leave me alone for a week."

"I was. But one of the boys saw you leaving without me, and he thought it was a bit unusual that someone as young as you, especially since I've been so protective of you, would not only go out without me, but also without anyone else."

"Oh. How mad are you, Spike?" I can finally move again, and I turn and look at the floor of the closet.

"Willow, what have I told you about looking away when I talk to you?"

"Sorry," I mumble as I face him and force myself to hold his gaze. He stands and slowly walks toward me.

"Why did you leave?"

"I... I'm sorry, Spike, I didn't want to, but - "

"Yes, you did."

"What?"

"You did want to leave. That's why I told you to stay. Now tell me the truth. Why did you want to leave?"

"Well, I was going to stay like you asked, but I had to get away from the dolls. They were talking to one another and saying all sorts of horrible things about me. They said they were going to hurt me and then we would all have cakes and tea."

"The dolls were talking to you about having cakes and tea?"

"Uh-huh. And that I'm not your princess yet, but I will be after they hurt me." Spike turns abruptly and stalks over to the doll shelf. He stands there with his back to me for a moment before whipping around to face me again, his demon face showing.

"So that's it, huh? You're not my Princess now, are you? And you were the one that didn't want to be compared to Dru. What, didn't get enough attention that way? I told you I didn't want another Drusilla. But I guess you don't really care, do you?" He crosses the room in long strides and I find myself backing away from him. I feel the wall at my back and stop, but he continues closing the distance between us and wraps his hand around my throat, pushing me more firmly against the wall. "Tell me, did you really not remember those days, or was that another of your tricks? It seems that you miraculously recovered when you got the attention you craved."

"Spike," I gasp at his ever-tightening grip, "please…"

"Please what, Willow? Please give you the attention you want? Please let you do as you wish? What is it you want, Willow?"

"Please, Spike. You're hurting me."

"My words hurt, do they? Not as much as yours hurt me. She was my princess, and more. You'll never be her. I didn't want you to be. Why, Willow? Why do you want to hurt me like this?"

"Spike," I plead through my pain, "your hand… it hurts."

"Wha…?" The pain in my voice causes him to notice what he is doing to me. The demonic visage fades and he lets go of me. I stumble to the floor and gently rub the finger-shaped welts marring my neck. He reaches for me, and I instinctively back away, but the wall stops me. He continues, and I hiss in pain and fear as his fingertips brush the injured skin. "Oh, Willow. I'm so sorry," He whispers. I can only stare back with hurt in my eyes.