Welcome to Hell

Warning: Very AU and very dark

Author’s note: What the hell is canon anyway? If there is any resemblance to canon then I am going to run away and hide. Assume you know nothing. FYI: I blame Rae for this. Dedications: To Rae for inspiration and Tam for being an amazing beta. Quick shout out to Zoe for the wonderful feedback.

Season One, Welcome to Hell

Buffy looked in the mirror. She looked … normal. Like an everyday teenage girl. She was tired of this game, though. Pretending to be normal; pretending that burning down the gym hadn’t been necessary. Knowing that the deaths of her Watcher and later Pike had been her fault; if she would have been a little bit faster, a little bit more *aware*, she could have saved them.

Merrick didn’t haunt her as much. He was the one who had brought this destiny to her. He had taught her how to be a vampire slayer. It was only fitting that his death would reflect his life. She grieved for him. But he chose his own destiny.

Pike though; thoughts of him ripped through her soul. They rode away from the high school that night on his bike. They were conquering heroes. Saving the world from the deadly vampires that roamed through the night.

No one had told them that there were other demons out there. Or that a Slayer’s duties were constant. That as her reputation grew the demons of the night, both vampires and non-vampires, would seek her out. That her very nature; the blood that filled her veins, would call them to her. She was the ultimate target and those she cared about would always be in danger.

Less then a week after the gym burned down the two had celebrated their latest slaying victory. The two of them had spent a romantic night in the park. They lit the night with candles and made love until dawn.

Two weeks later he was killed. They had been attacked while walking home from the movies. It had been an early show and the sunset wasn’t due for a few more hours. Demons, vampires; neither was on their mind. It was over quickly. One moment they were walking to Pike’s new apartment. The next moment he was dead, and she was fighting a seven foot monster.

Overnight she changed.

Logically she knew it was not her fault. She hadn’t wanted her destiny. She hadn’t asked for his help. He knew the risks. But her heart knew the truth. He would never have gotten involved in the fight if he hadn’t fallen in love with her. He would have moved on, survived and lived his life.

If it wasn’t for her *destiny* then Pike would be alive.

No, that wasn’t true. If the stupid Council had prepared her, if they would have bothered to train her, then she would have known what to expect. If they would have sent a replacement for Merrick, then she would have known; known that being the Slayer meant a life of loneliness, dead friends and dead lovers. She would have separated herself from Pike and saved his life.

As it was, her life had driven her father off, her friends abandoned her, and it killed her only lover. Her life was *Chosen* - to be short, cruel and bloody. She felt out of control.

Her only thoughts were of the pain and the blood. Her only control was of her slaying and her body. She was a weapon and yet she liked to bleed. Her life was full of blood and yet it was comforting. At least the blood was something she understood. Her life would be short.

And yet she still had to start a new school today.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Buffy fought because that was what she did best. She didn’t care that this new Watcher had shown up, or that he rambled on about destiny. What did he know about a Slayer’s life? He *watched* while she lived. Night after night, first in L.A. then here; She came, she saw, she staked. That was her life; the pain and the blood.

Where was this Watcher when she was fighting in L.A? Where was he when Pike was killed? Where was the Council then? Heck, where was the Council before this all started? Why couldn’t they have come and explained? Why didn’t they help her before her family fell apart and her lover dead?

The Council didn’t care about her, they only wanted a tool. A Barbie Doll of their very own; they should have thought about that sooner. Her life, her body, her blood was her own. She would be damned if they would try to control her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sounds of fighting drew her attention. Stepping into the alley she watched as two powerful beings fought a deadly dance. The taller man was handsome. He was the type she would have fallen for before Pike. His hair was a bit odd, kind of poufy in spots, but he looked rather comforting. The type of man you could cuddle up to and fill secure.

The younger man was smaller. He was lean and looked like he’d stepped out of an old punk rock video. He radiated with power and sensuality. Looking at him, she lost all thought; barely noticing that both men had slipped into game face.

This person, no this creature, seemed almost divine in his power. He would never be comforting. No, his power was much more then that. He would be a protector, a fighter and a lover. Never a father-figure, but always there. He would never leave and never abandon his love.

She knew that. It was as if the Slayer core of her screamed out to make this man hers. His blood was calling to her. Her blood screamed for him. Yet she knew that somehow it was wrong. Not because the Watcher would throw a fit, or because she had been chosen to fight these creatures. But because she would have to relinquish some of her control.

That scared her. She needed the pain to remember that she was alive. Her life, her body, her blood; It had become her mantra.

Yet his face: this man, this demon - she had dreamed about him. Delicious dreams that had flooded her with guilt upon awakening. Dreaming of him as she mourned for Pike.

She dreamed of his killing her. Of fighting and of dancing.

She dreamed of this creature fighting her, in graveyards and parks. Over and over again, she had fought him. Sometimes she won and he escaped; other times he won and drained her blood. But not only did she dream these dreams, she remembered fighting him. It was her, but not really her. The dreams had taken place somewhere in Asia, and in a subway. She had fought, she had lost, and he snapped her neck. These dreams were all about her, yet they never were. He was a stranger, yet in every life, he had killed her.

She should be afraid. But she wasn’t.

And here he was.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Buffy felt herself grow aroused as the two men continued to fight. They were beautiful together; poetry in motion. As they lunged and countered, exchanging blows she was captivated. The blond vampire seemed to be enjoying the fight, while the brunette seemed to be very unhappy. The blond was the man in her dreams, and she looked for him no matter where she was patrolling. He was here, he was beautiful, and he was death.

She knew she should run, but she couldn’t move. She hadn’t seen anyone before who enjoyed the fight as much as she did. Pike had fought because of his love; Merrick because of his job. She fought because it was her destiny, yes. But the only time she felt alive and felt in control was when she was slaying. The adrenaline would fill her and her worries would fade away. When she was slaying, the world was hers. Her life, her body, her blood.

As she continued to watch the men, she realized that they were shouting at each other. The blond ranted on about how Angelus had taken his Dru from him. How his dark princess had went out to search for her Daddy and gotten caught in the sunshine. How it was Angelus’s fault that he had been alone for decades.

Buffy didn’t really care about their argument. She just wanted to fight. She hoped the blond would win. He would be a worthy opponent. Even if he was her last.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The blond began to get the upper hand. He was vicious in his blows, yet graceful. Buffy stepped forward in anticipation of the fight’s ending. She couldn’t deny the arousal. The men were beautiful. A throaty moan escaped her as the blond sunk another round house kick.

Both men froze at the sound of her moan and amber eyes were trained upon her. Using that brief distraction, the brunette turned and fled into the night.

Buffy’s breath caught in her throat.

The blond vampire advanced on her motionless figure. He was still in game face and she found him beautiful. Was it the way he fought, or the dreams that predicted her release? He had been created to fight her, destined to win. She repeated her mantra, *my life, my body, my blood*.

“Well, well, well… what do we have here cutie?”

Buffy was mesmerized as the blond slipped into his human disguise. She couldn’t stop staring. While fighting he was beautiful; but as a human…. She couldn’t breath. She raised a hand to trace his face, staring all the while into his beautiful eyes.

Without thinking, she repeated her mantra out loud. “My life, my body, my blood.”

“Really,” the vampire purred. “how interesting.”

Continuing to stare, Buffy whispered, “What is your name?”

Reaching out, the blond pulled her closer. “Name’s Spike.”

Spike shifted into game face and nuzzled her neck. “You smell lovely. All arousal and blood; and I haven’t even bit into you yet. Don’t you want to dance, Slayer?”

And so it started. Fists and fangs. The fight was beautiful, deadly and passionate. The warriors danced. It was glorious; a roundhouse kick to the head; a precise punch to the nose.

Spike laughed with the joy of the fight. Buffy aroused at the slaying. She was hungry, she was horny, and she was wet. For the first time in months she felt alive. Joy filled her. Anticipation coursed through her veins. She forgot the pain that was constant. The desire for control that caused her to cut herself. To control the only things she could: her life, her body, her blood.

And before she could counter the last blow Spike was upon her, his razor like fangs sinking into her neck. She moaned as her body conformed to his. She knew she should struggle, she knew she should run away. The urge to take back control was running rampant. But she was to far gone. The fangs in her neck were enticing. The giving up of control enthralling: it was her life, it was her body and it was her blood. And she was giving up the control.

It was as in her dreams. She was dying.

As her heartbeat began to fade, Spike held up his bloody wrist. “Drink, Slayer, and we’ll have ourselves some fun.”

Fini
Stay tuned for the sequel – Season One, Prophecy Vamp * A Twist of Prophecy Girl...

Disclaimer: As if I would have Spike anywhere other then my bed if I owned the rights.