An Echo of the Wicca’s Irreverence
ooc: Erm... I assume this will happen before the night she goes to Spike's room? Tell me if ya wanted it edited!
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The past few days were mostly used to ajust to their new enviroment, Spike was having a difficult time hovering about the same rooms with Angel, and Angel seemed to have the same difficulties.It had been a while since he fed off Arisa now, and he could feel the potent energies fading, though at the same time he felt stronger then ever during the moments he was sane enough to recognise his strength had increased.
Arisa had gone off to the bathroom and Spike was in his room which was a door or three down from Arisa, he wasn't sure since he hasn't slept yet, hovering down on the first floor continuously until an hour before. He had a warm mug of blood in his hand while he sat on the bed, readying for the stamoch acks that were sure to follow when he drank animal blood, still amazed his body was continuing to reject the weak and foul replacement for the rich human blood he had lived upon for such a great deal of time.
It was late, everyone was out aside from a few guests with demonic problems who were being housed here until the Slayer and Angel could help them out. The putrid taste of the warm blood that was sipped from the cup brought the first spark of life back to Spike as he spat it out in revulsion and then dropped the mug on his side table, almost chocking on the small amount he had swollowed in disgust.
Rushing into his small ensuit he rinsed out the foul taste with some cool water from the tap, coughing again as he felt so ill from the sickly feel of what the animal blood had made wash over him. The queasiness eased slightly as he splashed water over his face, though he had the urge to keep rinsing his mouth until all taste was removed. A stinging sensation sliced across his wrist, the bright blue eyes staring at his hand as he slipped it under the water with a slightly confused look. When he looked into the empty mirror though, the walls behind him were smeared in red writing, the shock caused him to spin about instantly, the walls clean and unmarked, their reflection the same.
The sudden burst of screams from Arisa's nearby room rose a sense of panic in the unstable vampire who was out of his room and in Arisa's just a split moment later, one of the few signs he has shown towards becoming Arisa's Guardian during her stay here, watching over her and protecting her as best he could.
TBC: Arisa - Didn't want to post him seeing her so you can set the scen and all! I think it was either 'Bored now, Wonna play?' or something else Willow-ish.. Put whatever though, I don't mind! I trust ya!
Arisa had been doing her best to let Angel and the other occupants carry on as if she wasn’t there for the past few days, attempting to be as little a burden as possible and spending most of the day either talking Spike or the other residence, or attempting to help out with the cleaning and cooking. The nights were still spent uneasily, even knowing that her vampiric guardian was only a room down, hell only knew what could approach her in her sleep…though it wasn’t as if she was truly capable of actually sleeping till far into the early morning. All of the recent events had left her more than a little shaken, so she had forced herself to stay in the safe confines of the building at night, though even without running loose in the city she still found herself wide awake long past the stroke of twelve, further exploring the hotel. She slept instead late into the mornings or took naps during the day, the same schedule the nocturnal mutant had used almost all her life.
She spent a few moments as she stepped into the bathroom sniffing the clean smell that seemed to linger bathroom, tail swaying contentedly behind her. She had spent most of the day, or at least what of it she had been awake for, talking with Spike, which always seemed to take her mind off of things and put her much more at ease. She had paused their conversation to slip off for a shower, something she was very much grateful to have on hand. During her stay on the streets she had had one hell of a time trying to find somewhere to wash up while still wanting to get no where near people, she had used a cold, and probably not very clean fountain in the backyard of some rich humans, and a lake in the middle of a golf course, both at night to avoid being seen.
The small sound of metal tapping together became the only sound to accompany her breathing as she undid her studded belt, carefully stepping her bare feet out of her newly washed jeans. Her feet moved back to the cool tile surface, hands tossing the pants up onto the bathroom counter lightly.
She paused to eye her reflection in the mirror; her underwear was a plain black, personalized with a hole in the back for her tail, and the shirt she wore was the spare she had tucked into her backpack with her supplies, a dark purple shirt with black letters stating, “I Leave Bite Marks.” Phoebe had thought it was fitting for her little feral sister, and bought it for her as a random present, around the middle of Arisa‘s stay with her mother. Her eyes pulled away from her reflection for a moment to pull off her shirt, a black bra resting underneath. Her gaze moved again to flicker over her half-dressed form, examining herself curiously. Her hips were smaller than she remembered them, and it appeared that the small amount of pudge she had gained from living off of fast food at the brotherhood had disappeared during her homeless time. The black undergarments complimented her figure nicely next to the smooth blue of her skin and fur…though of course it wasn’t like anyone ever saw them, but it didn’t really matter.
“I should starve on the streets more often…”
The mutter left her light blue lips with a slight hint of bitter amusement, remembering quite clearly the constant hunger involved with living off of naught but two small meals for a week, she was having trouble now that she had real food again adjusting her stomach back to fit a decent amount of food. Her eyes flickered up to stare back at their jade reflection briefly, and lingering for a confused moment. They looked different somehow…her face looked the same, with the same soft features and hair framing it, but her eyes looked…
She turned away from the mirror, moving rather uneasily to tug the shower curtain gently aside, her hand reaching in to turn on the shower to let the water warm up. She was just being paranoid...but she couldn’t shake the feeling she got when she looked into her own eyes. Something was there that wasn’t a minute ago, something that was not supposed to be there…
She reached up and ruffled her brownish hair lightly, the tips of the long strands falling back down to tickle her bare back and shoulders, arrow-ended tail flicking rather irritably behind her. She tried to shift her thoughts over to how Spike was just a room or two down, how she was safe here, sniffing gingerly at the air to assure herself there was no one else‘s scent in the room…but she couldn’t shake off her instincts. She was on edge, something was wrong.
Suddenly she felt her arms fall limp, her face tilting up to look ahead with surprise, her breath catching in her throat. It was as if a warm sensation had began to trickle over her, starting at the tips of her fingers and toes, and washing over her, gently lulling all thoughts in her mind into a dormant sleep…
A blank, forest jade gaze lowered down to her right hand, her arm tensing briefly, forcing her bone claws to pierce their way out again. A small bit of pain trickled up her arm, but she didn’t really register it, her knuckles now welling up blood where her bone claws had pierced. The tiny bit of liquid trailed down the palm of her hand to drip in small droplets to the floor.
She felt a much stronger pain rush over her as she began to run the tip of a claw from her right fist firmly over her left wrist, moving under her command, yet without any thought on her part. The veins near the surface of her arm tore open with ease, blood instantly beginning to pour from the wound like a fountain. The thick liquid seemed to engulf her arm, trailing down onto her mostly bare figure to soak into the small rug beneath her feet.
Slowly her right hand loosened, and her claws pulled back into her forearm. With a strange steadiness she felt herself reach over to the blood spilling from her arm, dipping two fingers gingerly into the crimson. Her bare feet carried her over to the white wall opposite the mirror, and her fingers began to brush along the surface of the wall, twisting and turning, and then parting to move back to her wrist again. Then back to the wall, then back to her wrist, wall, wrist, wall, wrist. It was like a dance, a harmless, little dance…
Suddenly her fingers parted from the wall again, but this time to rest at her side, and her eyes slipped momentarily shut as she felt something flicker alive inside her again. A cold kind of feeling seemed to run over her, this time fading from her and leaving through her hands and feet. Thoughts slowly struck back up inside her head, her mind and senses stretching awake.
The first thing she noticed was the same presence she had felt before, but much stronger…there was something so familiar in it, yet something so different. She paused for a moment, thinking a rather torpid prosses in her strange sedated state…it was Willow, that was who it was…yet she wasn’t truly here, the presence was vague and misty, and not all together…
The scent of blood pulled Arisa’s attention from the Wicca’s link, the strong, familiar smell undoing the clean scent the room had held. Her eyes blinked open in confusion, her tail twitching uneasily behind her. Something was wrong.
Something crimson swam before her as her eyes took a moment to come back into focus, and she squinted for a moment to make it out. As her world moved back together into something recognizable, she watched the red blur move together to form lines and curves…and words.
‘Time To Play Pet’
The words lay smeared over the surface of the wall, the blood, her blood, glittering in the light.
As reality sunk in a scream escaped her lips, and she felt herself stumble backwards in a frantic attempt to get away from the wall, tripping over the edge of the shower and collapsing in a heap on the tile, frightened tears beginning to well up in her eyes. The still cold water pouring from the shower-head cascaded over her violently shaking figure, spreading the blood flowing from her wrist over her and carrying it in a thick stream to the drain.
She stared at her red, shaking hands in shock, looking around the room franticly to see if anyone was there. Spike stepped into the room just as her gaze moved back down to her hands, sobs hiding the sound of his arrival from her.
She forced her terrified eyes closed, pulling her knees up against her and cradling her bloody arm against her rapidly pumping chest, her tail wrapping tightly around her waist. Painfully clear images of what she had done flashed through her head, watching herself write on the wall; accompanied ominously by a soft giggling. Willow was toying with her, and she was doing one hell of a job.
..Unlock your heart, drop your guard.. you can't reject the whole world..
Re: An Echo of the Wicca’s Irreverence
The shock of what he saw was nearly over powering, it made no sense, the fear he had slipped into one of his insane senseless little worlds of fantasy gripped him for a moment. He couldn't lose his mind again, couldn't let his emotions drag him into the world of make believe and past memories that he was so used to running away into when things got hard. Maybe if no one needed him any more he wouldn't care, but Arisa needed him, even if it was just to talk, but the scent of fresh blood, potent, strong, nearly intocixating just to sniff it in the air as it reminded him of the overwhelming sensations that that smell caused.
The first thing he did was turn off the water that was raining down onto her, then almost panickly grabbed at one of the towels, instatly returning by her side and trying to calm her down with soft words of assurance while he wrapped the fluffy cream towel about her front. Carefully he had placed his knees on either side of her, just because he was dead didn't mean that he couldn't be hurt if she decided to start thrashing about and kick him in the right places.
A distraction disturbed any thought of Spike asking her what was wrong, staring at the location where he had earlier picked up the scent of blood drifting from. It had taken them a whole day to be able to revert Spike back to his human form, and even then it had been because he had fallen asleep and subconsiously was released from the wolf body he had been trapped in. Angel hadn't been too fond of Spike wandering about the Hotel on all fours in his wolf form, and wasn't happy when the lingering side effects remained for the following day where he would run up the stairs on all fours or do something that hinted he was still recovering from his animalistic transformation - being insane when it happened with the over powering effects of Arisa's blood it had completely thrown him out of wack mentally with all these changes going on inside him.
The good thing about having Arisa's company meant that he was fighting harder in order to keep himself in the proper healthy condition needed to take care of her. But even so the instant to start slamming his fists into the wall that had been tainted with bloody words was nearly too strong a desire. There was an angry growl quietly echoing about in his throat as he struggled to calm the urge to rip those words rip from the wall. How dare she, he knew who it was, she was mocking him, he calls people he cares for 'Pet', now Willow was playing with Arisa's mind, like how Dru played with his, if he let it go on it'd just get worse, Arisa doesn't deserved to suffer like he had.
"Hol'on Nibblet," Gently Spike's arms pulled her closer towards him, scooping her up carefully and picking her up so that he could take her out of here. " 's ok now, no one will hurt you while yer with me." He'd get her clothes later, or call for one of the others to come and get them for him so he didn't have to leave Arisa's side.
Sure Willow started copying her sire in by using petnames for people, but she usually used them for people she was hurting, victims she was teasing, food she was just playing with. The knowledge only caused more outragous anger to swell up in the back of his mind, but right now Arisa was all that mattered. He'd take her to his room, he'd make sure she was alright and then, only then, once he knew she was better, would he even start to think about how to deal with Willow's bond to Arisa. Because it was more then just the screaming that had frightened Spike when he first heard her, with their own bond between each other he can feel her pain, the sting nothing compared to most of the torment Spike has been though, but that didn't mean he wasn't scared over the reason why she had been hurt. It was all too possible for one of their demonic guests to try and snack on her, he's already cought one of them trailing her scent curiously, luckily for Arisa she happens to be under the care of one of the few most powerful vampires in these parts - not that Spike was aware just how strong he had become.
Walking into his room, the door still open from when he bolted out earlier, his foot nudged it closed before moving over to his large bed, most of the beds in the hotel were large since it wasn't often likely for people to go to a hotel on their own, even if they did they often found 'companions' for the night. As he tenderly placed her down, his knee rested on the bed and nudged the covers aside a little so when he took the towel away he could cover her damp form with the cozy blanket. Once she was laying down, he focused on wrapping her wrist with the slightly wet towel, then tugged the blanket up over her body, his hands returning to holding her wrapped arm and resting it over her stomach.
He's never had any contact with children before, well once there was that little girl who Angelus 'owned', she was a wild human, not kept in the cages in the human encampment, but Angelus had wanted to use her as an example to the human rebels and had placed the 6 year old up on a cross beside the road. Spike found her and released her, it was one of the many things that Spike had started to do that went against his sires orders, it was before he sired Willow but after the other worlds Initiative had captured him and was starting to be forced to see humans as something else other then meals to play with.
One when he was human he wanted to find someone special and have children with them, even told his mother then he wouldn't mind to hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet. A small part of him worried that he might somehow treat them as his father had treated him, but he tried not to think about it. When he was turned he lost any chance of finding out what kind of father he would have been and shortly after that out of a sense of love and devotion he had turned his mother and unlike Spike, she lost all her compassion and emotions, full of bitterness, hate and selfish desires. So not only had he lost the chance of any future family, he lost the only family he had left one she died in struggle when his mother tried to force herself onto him with a lustful desire instead of a motherly love.
But even though he was taking care of her, taking up the role of responsibility in her care, since she was also taking care of him his mind couldn't resgister her as a helpless child in need of a parental figure, even though in truth she was just that, to him, it felt like a little sister that he had to protect and defend and he knew that she would do the same thing for him if he ever needed her help. Maybe he did sometimes act like a parent towards her, a clueless foster father at best though, but that's what even big brothers can seem like when they take care of their younger sisters. Making sure she had the proper food growing humans needed to help keep themsevles heathy and in good smart working condition, not to mention spoiling her with chocolates and whatever other little treats he picked up.
He'd buy already cooked things, or things they could heat up in the microwave, but he didn't like putting food she will eat in there since they warm up their mugs of blood in there. Already he's planning on getting her clothes, but she would have to go with him since he doens't know anything about sinces, he wasn't exactly one that went shopping for clothing considering in his dimension Angelus barely tolerated letting Spike wear trousers. It was just another way of torturing Spike, since only 'humans' or worthy demons would be allowed to wear clothes, and since most of the time Spike was in a sever state of insanity from the constant brutal and savage treatment he was put under, it meant it was easier for Angelus's words to hurt him more, making him feel like nothing but a worthless animal, needing clothes merely as a costum to hide his true nature. That's why he spend the first few days walking about Xavier's school when he arrived to this reality without a shirt, Storm eventually gave him new clothes but his mentallity towards them took months to change, still seeing them only as 'costums' to disguise what he really was.
"You're ok now.. don't worry 'bout anythin', we'll deal with it, all o'us." After all, he killed Willow once, he can kill her again, right? He was going to convince himself he could, she deared to harm Arisa, his Arisa, the sense of Arisa being his property lingered in the animalistic parts of his personality and behaviour, but he didn't consiously register that fact, simply a subconsious desire to protect his territory, causing an aggressive attitude towards anyone that hurts her as a threatening result of them stumbling onto his property and damaging it or trying to take it away from him, he would fight till his death to keep what was his.
The link they shared with each other probably betrayed the anger well hidden in his calm exterior, the brutal passion to rip the vampiric wicca apart even if he had to storm into the heart of the demonic agency she was staying at and face Belthazor himself, a part demon that was more powerful then even Spike himself - at their encounter in the Initiative he had effortlessly pinned Spike into submission.
Re: An Echo of the Wicca’s Irreverence
It was all surreal, too terrifying to be true. She wanted to scream for help, to cry out for those who might save her, but only quick paced breath escaped her lips; the chaos and horror within her unable to be echoed outside of her mind, the bleeding feral frozen by fear.
The thick red liquid was everywhere, it‘s scent almost painfully strong.
The feral cradled her crimson-painted arm up close against her chest, the blood spilling from her wrist over her shaking form. Her bare legs were both tucked close against her, head held in rigidly in close to her wound, forehead pressed to her knees. Even her tail curled closely around her waist, as if in one final attempt to guard her from something she would never be safe from.
But she had no protection, because the one she wanted most to be safe from was where she would never be able to block her out, in her mind. She had never dreamed when she lay weakly near the Wicca on the hotel room floor, burying herself in the vampress’s words and gentle scent, that the witch’s bite would be so fatal. She had said she would protect Arisa, keep her safe from the bad, mean puppies, those dogs that toyed with her…
But the last thing Arisa was was safe, and it seemed all roles had been reversed. Right now those ‘bad puppies’ Willow had offered her protection against, were those who she would have given anything to have come protect her from Willow now.
Her figure shook almost violently in the swirling concoction of clear and ruby liquid that moved in a thick stream down the drain, the freezing water beating down on the terrified girl. Her shaking was not just from the icy temperature of the water, it was blinding fear, her chest rising and falling rapidly in sobs.
Slowly she could feel her wrist stitching itself shut once more, though it would have never been visible under the thick cascade of blood that had been pouring from the vital veins. This wasn’t the first time her wrist wept crimson, nor the first time it was by Arisa’s own hand.
She could not look up, could not bare to face that wall, though it wasn‘t as if she could have moved even if she wanted to. Images continued to pour through her mind without her consent, making it all the more difficult to block out the fresh, tainted memory of what she herself had done a few minutes ago.
Arisa was so tangled in her fear that she didn’t notice the sudden vacancy of freezing water over her, nor did she notice Spike’s presence at all until she felt the texture of a fluffy towel being wrapped gently around her.
The immobilization that had came over her was gone, and she felt herself lashing out in blind panic, a snarl twisting her tear-stained features.
Her tail was the first to lash out at the shocked vampire, followed shortly by a fist that was wrenched out from it’s place behind the towel. But both were slowed to just thud against him lightly as she realized who it was, moist eyes wide with surprise.
She paid little attention to his quiet growl, or the anger she could feel radiating from him, much more intent on the relief flooding through her at his protection as his arms gently scooped her relatively small, slender form up.
"Hol'on Nibblet,"
His reassuring words where unable to penetrate the much stronger, and not nearly as gentle thoughts wreaking havoc on her already battered grasp on sanity, but the sound of his voice was still a powerful comfort, even if she hadn’t a clue what he had said.
Her terror-stricken form clung as close to him as possible, right arm still cradling her bloody left, tail curling around his wrist; reassuring herself that he would not pull away from her.
" 's ok now, no one will hurt you while yer with me."
These words had more meaning than the others, their vague meaning echoing around in her mind lightly. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. But she didn’t really need his words to know that, she could feel the protectiveness radiating from him, along with his outrage at Willow.
Slowly he carried the feral’s drenched, shaking frame down the hall, water and blood from her nearly bare body running down over his front and leaving a rather conspicuous trail to his room on the hall's floor.
As he nudged the door to his room closed gently with his foot, the scent that lingered strongly in the room, Spike’s scent, washed over Arisa, causing another large chunk of her fear to fade away. His bed smelled even more strongly of him, and as she was set down and the warm sheets were pulled up over her, a sense of relief allowed her to finally start to breath normally again, her quick sobbing gasps steadily slowing.
Slight panic returned to her now open eyes as he pulled the towel away, afraid he was leaving, but her to relief his hands returned quickly to wrap the moist towl around her nearly healed wrist, the thick crimson bleeding through the fluffy white towel, and staining it permanently.
His hands remained on her arm as he set it down over her chest, her tail squirming out from underneath her to wrap gently around his forearm.
"You're ok now.. don't worry 'bout anythin', we'll deal with it, all o'us."
She leaned back without responce, letting her muscles loosen and lay back rather weakly against the soft bed, as long as her tail still wrapped around his wrist made sure she knew he was there, she could close her eyes, it would be ok..
Her focus slipped away from the physical onto their link...She could feel his subconscious inclination to thinking of her as his property, but instead of the usual annoyance she would have gotten had anyone tried to treat her as if they owned her, this time she was grateful for it. At the moment it only reinforced the concept that he would protect her, that nothing was going to happen to her while he was here.
If he would just get rid of Willow, then Arisa would be safe, finally safe. Her jade eyes remained fixed on Spike as the fingers of her free hand wandered up to trace over two slight indents on her neck, dirty fingers streaking bloody skid marks on the clean skin. The two vertical marks were light, though enough to be seen through her short, light blue fur if inspected carefully enough. Those were two out of four of the only wounds she had, or would probably ever get, that would never completely heal, eternal scars made by the Wicca’s magic.
Spike’s bite marks lingered in much the same way a few inches away from the witch's, more to the center on the side of her neck where as Willows were father back, the vampire always biting in the same spot and only deepening the dark, vertical scars, showing that Arisa had been bitten much more by him than Willow. If someone had not known she had been claimed by two different vampires, it would appear to first glance that there was only one pair of darkly scared markings. He always bit in the same place as the first time, avoiding the taste of the vampress' lingering magic on Arisa’s skin, but now he probably would have taken the chance to rip the lighter scars right off of the metamorph’s neck...
Her hand pressed tightly over the marks, a guilty feeling rising rapidly up inside her. She had let Willow bite her, had invited this curse. Was that why he was angry? Her eyes widened, she could feel the animalistic urge to kill in his very breathing, and her muscles began to tence, Spike’s anger at the vampress now distorting in Arisa’s mind to anger at her.
Fear rose up inside her again, eyes widening at the vampire who now seemed to loom dangerously over her. He was going to hurt her, she could feel the furry inside of him, he wanted to tear flesh, tear it right to shreds. She felt her tail slither back from around his forearm where it had clung before, the rest of her attempting to shrink back away from him as her breathing and pulse picked up again, a slight whimper escaping her wet lips as another wave of terror took over her.
Her grasp on reality was fading, the mental deterioration only fed by her bloodloss. The effects were showing through as she franticly attempted to jerk her arm free of his gentle hands, curling the now healed limb in to hide her face in her blood-soaked hands as she writhed out of his reach to the far end of the bed, leaving watered down blood in her wake across the previously clean sheets.
Her focus took an unnaturally quick shift to the moisture that wet her hands, all thoughts of the vampire suddenly forgotten, just as quickly as that of the Wicca had been. She was crying, and her tears began to seem like the greatest danger of all as her red palms tried desperately to shove them off of her cheeks. Suddenly it seemed to be all their fault, the fault of those crystalline drops, deadly bane! If she didn’t cry, she wouldn’t be in such pain, she wouldn't be afraid.
Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears, and she could almost feel her weak pulse attempting to push blood through her body. The feral's shaking voice struck up in a quiet, pleading whisper between gasps, lowering her hands to stare down at her crimson painted, tear stained fingertips,
“Let me scream…let me bleed…"
Red marks appeared on her cheeks as she began to claw with mounting panic at her moist face with her nails, her tail abruptly lashing around her figure, blood flying from it's slick surface to land in small dropplets around the room. Her voice shook, rising from a nearly inaudiable whisper to almost a scream,
Re: An Echo of the Wicca’s Irreverence
Sorry for the rushedness...I had thirty minutes to do a post for ya before I left for this net place!
There was a change now, he had seen more then his share of frightened young girls, the tension in her body, the fear inside of her, he could smell it, sense it, feel it in the rhythms of her pulsing heart. Dropping his eyes with confusion down to her tail as it uncoiled and slipped away, then staring at her as the furred girl shrank away from his presence.
Fear rose up inside her again, eyes widening at the vampire who now seemed to loom dangerously over her. He was going to hurt her, she could feel the furry inside of him, he wanted to tear flesh, tear it right to shreds. She felt her tail slither back from around his forearm where it had clung before, the rest of her attempting to shrink back away from him as her breathing and pulse picked up again, a slight whimper escaping her wet lips as another wave of terror took over her. Losing contact with her left Spike staring, arms poised still as if expecting her to reach back out and take them again. She’s never been afraid of him before, never stared at him or acted like she feared him or what he could do…
Now she was crying, hiding away her face, the best way to describe Spike’s expression would probably be pained anguish. A helplessness that he struggled to try and find a remedy for, but how could he help her, look at her, curling up as far away from him as possible.
"Let me scream…let me bleed…" An alert panic swelled instantly inside Spike as he watched her lash at her face, "just don't...don't let me..CRY!" Jerking his head slightly to the side at the scream which exploded from her lungs and bombarded his sensitive hearing without warming. He didn’t care any more, let her fear him, he wasn’t going to let her hurt herself though! He might frighten her more by getting near her, but as far as he felt, he had no other choice.
" ‘Risa!" In an instant his hands where clasped over hers and his body before her, the speed of his movements where for the moment unseen as his hands safely nudged her body back. Wrapping her form in the blanket, both for warmth but also to stop her from hurting herself further, making sure to take hold of her free hands and crossing them over her chest gently. His weight enough to pin her down onto the bed and yet not his entire load so not to hurt or crushed her, knees on either side of her hips helping keep her in place.
Holding onto her wrists and making sure not to enable her claws to cut herself if they should slip out, Spike found himself lost in a frightful panic despite trying to remain calm. It always happens, he always settles down somewhere and finds someone and then they always leave or hurt him, or fear him, or want nothing to do with him, whatever the reason, they have all left.
"Shh.." It was so soft, gentle, his face drifted low to her hands. The vampire was still growing use to the fact she didn’t need to see his face to know what he was feeling, hiding the fright in his eyes was pointless with her. "There are people who long t’cry Nibblet," Suddenly everything was so complicated, so difficult to decide, what if he couldn’t protect her? What if keeping her with him was too selfish and just harming her more. What if he was doing it all wrong? What if he wasn’t saying what she needed to hear?
"But they can’t, coz they let’emselves become so hollow an’ empty so callous an’ cold," A tender firmness in his fingers as Spike’s face nuzzled against her cheek a moment later, one of his hands slipping away to rest over her forehead as caring fingers stroked her fringe. "Emptiness is a pain in itself lil’pet, an unbearable nothingness that consumes all, leaving nothing, nothing that can be hurt, no heart, no soul, nothin’ but an empty, lonely solitude which surrounds and devours us…" As he began to speak his face had slowly pulled away from its resting place against the side of hers and looked more sorrowfully down at her eyes.
"I know we can stop the pain if we will it all away, but don’t ‘Risa, don’t trap it all inside o’you, I know it hurts," There was a stressed concern in his voice, then he shut his eyes as he added with a distress clear in his voice and expression, "God how I know it hurts!" The vibrant eyes opened once more and resumed staring down at her, his voice becoming softer and full of assurance "But there are moment’s luv, so many beautiful moments tha’ make all’is worth fightin’ for. Tha’s all life is I think, jus’ moments, precious and few and far between, bu’ they’re there, and ya’ll always remember’em, an’ they’ll always keep you strong, even in th’darkest an’ coldest o’places." His voice dropped to a whisper, his own words merely fragments of scribbles in the back of his mind, thoughts left unspoken and beliefs never admitted out loud, a poet’s wishful words, their hopeful cries so long buried and ignored by a negative mind.
"Don’ be ashamed to cry luv, it means there’s something inside o’you, something that cares, which is hurtin’, which needs to be tended to, sometimes all you need to do to make the pain go away is find a nice pair o’arms to cuddle into, someone who’ll hold you while you cry," He didn’t realize he was doing his natural habit of captivation, calming her instinctively his splendid and ancient gaze, "An’ then… your pain will turn into one o’those precious moments ya’ll never forget"
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