snogged: ([BtVS] Willow)
[personal profile] snogged
Title: The Killer In Me (the Tough Love Remix)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and many other corporations own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t. Please don’t sue.
Pairing: Willow, Spike
Rating/Warnings: FRT-13/PG-13, character death
Word Count: 1905
Summary: What if Willow had killed Glory in Season 5’s “Tough Love?”
Setting: BtVS, Season 5, AU of “Tough Love.” There are some lines taken directly from the episode.
Beta Crew: The amazing [livejournal.com profile] velvetwhip. All other mistakes are mine.

Author’s Note: Written for the Which Willow Challenge 2015. Many thanks to [livejournal.com profile] dragonydreams for running this challenge year after year. It’s definitely a favorite of mine.

588314_angelus2hot
Story Banner by [livejournal.com profile] angelus2hot



”When, Buffy? When is? When you feel like it? When it's someone you love like Tara? When it's Dawn, is that it Buffy?”

“No. When we have a chance. We'll fight her when we have a chance. You wouldn’t last ten minutes, Willow. She’s a God.”


Willow was on the move, headed straight for the Magic Box. Buffy’s words from the hospital buzzed around her mind like gnats in need of a good swatting.

Every cell in her brain understood that Buffy wanted her to be logic-Willow. Buffy wanted her to be the girl that chose books and research over compulsory violence.

Every cell in her heart, however, was screaming for vengeance, for revenge. Glory had to pay for what she did to Tara. Glory had stolen the light, the warmth, and the passionate fire from her girl’s eyes, from her girl’s mind. In one swift movement, Glory had destroyed the world – Willow’s world – and she hated that her best friend was ignoring the apocalypse that was building right under their very noses.

What if it had been Angel?

Long ago, Buffy would have laid down the wrath of the Slayer if anyone tried to hurt the love of her life. Heck, when Faith had shot Angel with the poisoned arrow before their high school graduation, Buffy had raced straight to Faith’s apartment with the full intention of kicking her skanky bum five ways from Tuesday.

Buffy should have been the friend she could count on most for support.

Buffy should be there with her, armed and ready to take down the hell-bitch.

Willow paused, glancing up at the blazingly bright California sun.

What if it was Dawn?

What if Spike had been tortured long enough and hard enough to painfully whisper her name?

Willow imagined that if the coin was flipped, Buffy would be the one feeling the strength that mothers experienced when their babies are being crushed by vehicles. She would not only be the Slayer, she would be freaking unstoppable.

Buffy had to understand why this was necessary.
Buffy had to understand why Willow couldn’t flinch, couldn’t back down from the challenge.

Glory was a God?

Willow was a witch. She had access to the elements, to the darkness. She had reached out to the spirits of the interregnum and returned a vampire’s soul. She had used Hebron’s binding to help destroy the Sisterhood of the Jhe. She had been courted by the great vengeance demon, D’Hoffryn, and she had turned him down!

She was not weak.

She was not the sidekick.

She was going to make Glory pay for what she had done to Tara and no one was going to stop her.

She grabbed the book “Darkest Magick” off the shelf in the restricted section and pilfered the axe from one of the many places that Buffy stored her weapons.

The book flew open, the pages unveiling themselves to her.

Glory was a god?

Ha! Willow had her own roster of gods and goddesses upon whom she could call. She could already feel their power creeping into her skin thru her fingertips.

Kali. Hera. Kronos. Tonic.

Glory was a god?

Not today. Not after this.

Like the Greek and Roman gods before her, Glory was going to feel what it meant to disappear from the memories of Earth’s people. She was going to feel the pain that hugged Willow’s heart like a vice. She was going to be obliterated.

Glory was going to die.

~8~

“Air like nectar, thick like onyx. Cassiel by your second star….”

Willow’s eyes burned black, her body feeling equally light and heavy, as she floated into Glory’s lavish condo. Levitating a human was definitely not as simple as levitating a pencil.

She took a deep breath, channeling her resolve and her conviction.

She was not going to back down.

No matter what.

Glory stood there in her pretty little dress and crazy six-inch heels with a smirk curling the corners of her lips.

“It’s the lover. How cute is that.”

“Hold mine victim, as in tar!”

Willow screamed the words at the top of her lungs, feeling possessed by the gods, the darkness, that controlled her. Whatever she was doing was working. Glory wasn’t moving!

She could do this.

She could destroy her.

Willow unleashed another wave of power and Glory screamed....

A boy screamed….

Raw and masculine.

Willow blinked twice. No, that wasn’t right. Glory had a high-pitched squeal. It was supposed to sound more like Cordelia’s and not Xander’s. Oh goddess, maybe the magic was making her loopy? Making her hallucinate?

“Concentrate, Rosenberg,” Willow muttered. “She’s messing with you.”

She glanced up and saw the full-length mirror on the other side of the room. She urged it to shatter and she heard Glory’s amused snicker followed by another scream.

Another male scream.

Something wasn’t right.

“No!”

Willow looked back down at Glory, expecting to see giant glass shards sticking out of the woman’s skin. But she wasn’t looking at a woman.

She was looking at Ben.

The hospital intern who had helped Joyce before she lost her life to that darn tumor.

The hospital intern who was currently bleeding profusely from multiple entry wounds.

She didn’t understand. Where did Glory go? How had she disappeared so quickly? There was supposed to be more goading, more sneers. Willow had expected to feel the same rush of victory she had the day she staked her first vampire.

But that wasn’t what she was experiencing at all.

What had she done?

Oh goddess, what had she done?

Willow inhaled sharply and dropped to her knees, feeling the magic drain from her body, leaving her in a state of exhaustion as she curled up against Ben’s twitching form.

“I’m sorry,” Willow whispered, wet, hot tears glistening on her cheeks.

Blood gurgled inside Ben’s mouth as his body shuddered. “Glor…Gl…Go….”

“Don’t speak,” Willow urged. “I need to get you help. I need to call 911. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. Okay? See this?” She pointed at her lips, but there was no discernible expression. “It’s my resolve face. It’s my….”

“Glor…” Ben tried again, spitting up blood. It stained his lips and dripped down his chin. Willow felt the lump in her throat grow two times in size. She had killed someone.

She had killed a man.

Was this her punishment for being a lesbian? For getting mad when Tara accused her of going back to Boy’s Town.

She didn’t mean it. She didn’t mean it.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

“Ben.”

“Glory.”

“What?”

Willow tried to lift her head towards the voice, but every attempt to move her body felt like she was trying to bend steel. Impossible.

Her surprise visitor dropped to his knees beside her and pulled her body off of Ben’s and into his lap instead. Willow didn’t fight him. She let the cool leather of his coat caress her cheek.

“You didn’t kill him, Red. I mean, you did, but Ben was a vessel. He shared his body with Glory.”

Willow’s sobs slowed to a whimper and she allowed Spike to shift her body so that they could make eye contact. “I don’t…understand. Glory’s gone. She escaped and…and…Ben…I don’t know…but he’s here and I killed him. Oh…oh…I…I’m the worst. I’m the worst of the worst. Buffy is…Buffy is…going to….”

“It’s a spell, Red. You’re human so you’re not supposed to see it, but I’m a vampire so…yeah. That body has Glory trapped inside of it. The Slayer’ll be pleased as punch that you put an end to the menace, even if she thought you were a bit stupid.”

“I know,” Willow replied. “I…wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t being rational.”

“Bollocks,” Spike said, resting his fingers tips on her head. “I told her she was the dumb one. Thinking she could talk you down from this. Thought that girl knew what love was all about. Thought she knew what it was like to be love’s bitch after her rounds with Nancy Hairgel and Captain Cardboard.”

An unexpected giggle slipped past Willow’s lips as Spike gently started stroking her hair. She had to admit that he did have a talent for creative epithets.

“Why did you come, Spike?” Willow asked, hesitantly. “It’s not like you owe me anything. I never got your chip out, even though you threatened me and stuff. Plus, I made you almost get married to Buffy.”

Spike shrugged. “I’ve been where you are, Red. I’ve been in the Beast’s lair. I’ve been beaten down and beaten up by fists, by fury, and by love. I left the Slayer with her baby sis and made my way out here. Figured you might need back-up, but now that I’m here, I can be the friend that helps you move the body.”

A fresh batch of tears threatened to fall from Willow’s eyes.

“I’m a monster.”

Spike made a “pfft” sound with his lips and lifted Willow’s head off his lap. He cradled her in his arms like a baby, laying her head against his chest – right over the place where his heart used to beat.

“That’s bloody nonsense. You want to know what a monster looks like? Just stare into my eyes for a bit. I’m the killer here. Not you. You’re a powerful witch, yeah? But you’re still the innocent girl I locked in my cellar. You’re still the girl who cares, who fights for the ones that she loves. Glinda and anyone else who matters would be lucky to have you love them.”

Willow inhaled sharply and looked into Spike’s eyes. They were crystal blue and seemed to go on for days. She could tell they carried a whole world of mysteries and secrets. Moments that had spanned eternities of immortal life.

“I’m glad you came,” Willow replied.

“Me too.”

Spike stared at her a moment longer than he probably should have and Willow’s breath hitched. She could see the twitch in his neck – a micro-expression that seemed to be assessing if there was something more to the situation. She braced herself in his arms as his head lowered, his lips brushing against hers like a painter putting the first stroke onto the canvas just to test out the color. Make sure it was the right one.

She didn’t speak.

It felt nice.

It shouldn’t feel nice. It should feel like a fluke, but this wasn’t Xander. This wasn’t Oz. This wasn’t the definition of going back to Boy’s Town, even if Spike was most definitely a boy. Even if she had felt him stirring against her head back in that moment when her head had been nestled in his lap.

This wasn’t cheating. This was comfort.

They weren’t going to be carried away by a torrent of passion and madness.

They just needed this moment of connection. This reminder that human life was so short and so delicate.

Spike kissed her again, but this time he brushed his lips against her forehead.

“You’re going to be okay, Red. The Big Bad is dead. The Niblet is safe. We’re all going to be okay. Okay?”

Willow nodded, not entirely sure she believed him. There were still problems to solve – like fixing Tara’s mind and making sure the threat to Dawn’s life was actually gone now that Glory was out of picture.

Still, in this moment at least, everything felt like it would be: “Okay.”

FIN.

on 2015-12-20 09:36 pm (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] snogged.livejournal.com
Thank you so much! I couldn't have done this without your awesome beta abilities to back me up. :)

Profile

snogged: (Default)
snogged

January 2020

S M T W T F S
    1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
262728293031 

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jan. 7th, 2026 01:45 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios