Burnt Love

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Joss Whedon is the man beyond the characters.

Thanks to: Michelle, as always.

Classification: Drusilla/Spike

Author's Notes: Just needed to write a little story. My charactisation of Spike and Dru ain't so great since they're showing season 2 first this fall. Yes, we're slow in Sweden. Lol...

Summary: Drusilla hates Spike for taking away her Angel. She pushes the right button and he tries to kill her.

The curtains draped across the windows shone in a yellowish light. Behind them, the murderous sunlight ruled over the world. It kept creatures of the darkness hiding inside dark chilly places, sleeping and waiting for the night to give them access to the world outside, so that they may rule with the dark over the pitiful humans.

In a somber hotel room two vampires had sought peace and shelter from the daylight. At this moment the male vampire sat on the bed leaning his back against the bedstead while his fingers played with the lit cigarette he held. The bluish smoke seemed to have a life of its own, as it crept in the air around him, entering his parted lips and stinging his tired eyes. He hadn't slept for days and it was killing him. His entire being seemed to hurt.

A scream ripped into his mind, tearing into his heart with large claws, causing his hand to shake, as he stubbed out his cigarette. He raised his eyes, looking to the the door that lead to the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, but he couldn't see his little princess. He knew she was there; she had crept into the small room, hours ago, crying and wailing, refusing to let him touch her.

"Dru, baby?" He called out to her, hesitantly and worried. A humming was his only answer, and the blonde vampire swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, walking towards the bathroom. He put a hand against the white door and gave it a little push so he could step into the small room.

Drusilla was sitting on the dirty floor, between the bathtub and the toilet, and her lover wondered how she managed to fit in so little space.

"Spike?" She whispered, her voice sounding empty.

"Yes, darling." He spoke, crouching down in front of her. He reached out and touched her cold upper arm.

"Hurt me? Hurt your princess?" She begged, crawling out of her little nest and clinging to him. Spike bit his lips to keep from gasping and screaming out his sorrowful refusal. He couldn't do this. . .again.

He held her tight, stroking her soft brown hair while she sobbed, biting into his leather-clad shoulder. Spike could almost feel her fangs cutting through the leather and into his skin.

"Ssh, pet. Everything's going to be all right." He lied.

"*You* took him away from me! You stole *my* daddy! You took away *my* pain!" She wailed, her nails scratching his cheek, leaving a crimson line. Spike stared, heartbroken, into her insane brown eyes and captured her face in his hands, trying so hard to see the real Drusilla behind the insanity. See the love that had been so long denied him.

He saw nothing.

Her fist crashed into his face, sending him to his back on the filthy pink rug. He felt her straddle him, her fists striking him over and over again. Spike held his arms over his head, protecting his face, hoping she would eventually stop. But she didn't. Just continued and build his rage. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"I love *my* Angel! Not you! Never ever you!! Angel! Angel! Angel!"

Spike felt his face transform at her chanting and growled. A growl so deep and so filled with hatred that he thought it could shatter walls. He saw the surprised look on her face when he let his arms fall to his side and stared at her with his golden demon eyes.

The promise of pain made her smile, but he could also taste her fear in the air.

She feared she had gone too far this time.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Spike growled and watched her look down at him with big innocent eyes, unmoving. He backhanded her, sending her to his left, and watched as she bump her head against the bathtub. She moaned and pouted, waiting for him to comfort her and tell her how sorry he was and that he would never ever hurt his princess again. But the arms never embraced her, and the soothing words never reached her ears. Instead a hand sought its way through her hair, dragging her out of the bathroom.

"You want to see our bloody Sire again, sweets?" He asked her coldly, dragging her over to the door. Drusilla tried desperately to scratch and bite him before she resorted to begging.

"My pet, no! You love me! I know you do! You must love your princess! No one else loves princess." She cried, feeling the grip in her hair tighten. Blinded by his tears and his pain, Spike pulled the door open and shoved his screaming woman out into the deadly sunshine. He slammed the door shut behind her, listening to her screams. Tears ran in floods down his face as he listened to her dying.

He could live without her.

He was that strong.

He didn't need to wake up by her side, feel her soft cold skin under his fingers. He didn't need...

Oh Jesus Christ!

Spike yanked the door open, running out into the sunlight, not caring that his body started to burn, smoke and crisp. He saw her almost withered body and yelled her name, "Drusilla!!!"

He took her into his arms and ran back into the hotel room, slamming the door shut behind him. He rushed into the bathroom, stepped into the bathtub with her and put on the shower. After making sure he wasn't burning anymore he watched as the water hit his beloved's burnt skin, causing pieces of it fall off her bones. Her lovely hair was gone.

Drusilla looked at him, her eyes the only thing that had managed to remain the same. Spike cried; she looked like a burnt corpse.

"Oh, God, baby! Will you ever be able to forgive me?" He sobbed, holding her in his arms.

"You hurt me." She whispered and he froze. "I love you now."

The End

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