Cross posted to open_on_sunday and my regular journal.
BtVS – Season 5 – The Gift - Buffy
As soon as she’d reached her room, Buffy collapsed, clutching at her chest. The pain was excruciating.
She couldn’t catch her breath; couldn’t call out to Spike, downstairs. Ha! she thought in a moment between gripping pains. She wouldn’t have to worry about Glory after all – she’d die of a heart attack, first.
A bark of a laugh escaped her… easing some of the tension coiled in her body. Remarkably, the pain lessened. Her head cleared and the Slayer took over once more.
She stood, gathering her weapons and her courage. She had a sister and a world to save.
BtVS – Season 2 – What’s My Line? - Spike/Dru
Spike sat on the bed beside his Dark Princess, smoothing strands of her lackluster hair behind her ears as she slept. He was no longer able to view her through the veil of adoration. Her illness left her complexion paler than her usual porcelain shade, and vibrant plum flowers bloomed at the slightest touch of her skin.
He was almost jealous that something else was marking his beloved.
Tomorrow they’d perform the ritual sacrificing their erstwhile Sire, and then he and Dru would rule.
Watch out, Sunnyhell… the Big Bad’s in town. He’d chop the Slayer into messes as promised.
BtVS – Early Season 7 – Spike
In My Own Little Corner
Quiet. So quiet. He hears them skitter and skritch all around. If he stays still long enough, their furry little bodies climb over him as just another piece of detritus. Sometimes their feet tickle. And if it’s been a long time between feeding on one of the walking flea traps, he can almost imagine the soft brush of fur against his cheek to be something else… someone else.
The brush of her hair as she rode him hard and put him away wet. The waft of her breath as she collapsed, sated.
He nuzzles into the warmth on his shoulder.
BtVS – Season 5 – Pre-The Body - Joyce, Buffy, Dawn
Joyce supposed she should be grateful. She’d finally begun to understand her eldest daughter’s life and calling. Realizing that Buffy was not a juvenile delinquent or insane allowed them a closeness that few mothers and daughters shared these days. When your child faced death on a nightly basis from vampires or prophecies, you came to terms with things like poor grades or wardrobe choices.
It was just a little ironic that she, herself was facing one thing Buffy couldn’t fight: a brain tumor. Even complete removal wouldn’t guarantee a full recovery. If only it were a tumor demon, she sighed.
If somebody would only invent a comfortable waiting room chair, Buffy swore she would give up shopping for shoes for an entire year. One more minute sitting in those horrid orange plastic deathtraps would do what countless demons and vampires have failed: they cripple her.
The thought of surgeons digging around in her mother’s skull was making her nauseous. A foreign body sending out tendrils of doom, entwining itself in her brain and dripping its poison into her system, every bit as insidious as the chip in Spike’s brain.
Sitting and waiting, Buffy felt like a failure for doing nothing.
’It’s not real. It’s not real,’ Dawn repeated over and over in her head. This was her Mom; the one person who was supposed to always be there and take care of her. Mom couldn’t be sick.
It’s not enough that Buffy was such a ratfink. The Slayer – big whoop-di-do. What’s so special about dusting vampires? As long as she left Spike alone, ‘cause for a Big Bad, he was pretty cool. And he treated her like a real person… not just a Buffy appendage.
Mom had to be all right. Anything else was too awful to even think about.
BtVS – Season 5 – The Body - Anya
Anya couldn’t stop crying. That Willow was so mean! Let her spend eleven hundred years as a demon and try to remember everything about being mortal.
Joyce was dead. That much she understood. But why did she have to die? She was a good woman who loved her daughters and her daughters’ friends. She liked to dance. She laughed at Xander’s jokes. Joyce had never hurt anyone, at least not on purpose, unlike Anya. Did that mean she would die from a brain tumor, too? It wasn’t fair.
Death had to be invented by demons. It was just too… inhumane.