1st in the Virtue Series

**WARNING**
CONTAINS VIOLENCE MENTAL INSTABILITY AND ANGST
A Spike/Xander H/C fic. Spoilers for Season six crazy Spike.



Virtue Series


by
Trixx



Hope

I was alone.  Alone for the entire world to see, or not see if they chose to ignore me.  I became one with the mouth of hell, it called to me, moved me, directed me, pulled me ten ways from Sunday until all that was and is, was its presence in my mind.  

I know that I deserved every instance of insanity it visited upon me, and I know with all my being, that I donít deserve to be saved.  I am evil, bad, wrong, unnatural, and this is the unlife I am condemned to live.  Buried beneath the wreckage of a tattered life, mistakes I so easily made, the regrets that swamp me, overwhelm me, make me.  They make me what I am now.  This thing that I have become, unnatural.

I cry.  The tears course down my cheeks in silent misery and no one is near enough to see, no one is near enough to listen, to feel what Iím feeling.  Alone so alone in the dark, yet not alone, as the voices whisper to me, call to me, telling me, telling me of things to come, and I just want them to stop, I want to be alone in the darkness, alone in my tears, my pain, my misery, its mine.  MINE, and they canít have it, they canít share it, I wonít let them, I deserve to be alone in my misery, in my silent contemplation on my unlifeís atrocities, the things Iíve done, the people IíveÖ killed, I deserve to drown in their memories, in their ghosts, I deserve to be haunted.  I can sit here and rock, back and forth in the dirt.  I donít feel the cold, I donít.  I feel the ache more so, this ache deep inside me, I tried to get rid of it, tried to claw it out of me, claw it, rip it, shred it, but I canít, they whisper that this is who I am, this is me in all my pathetic glory.

Glory.  It all started with Glory.  If she hadnít tried to hurt the Nibblet, Buffy hadnít died, been resurrected, been wrong, I wouldnít have become unnatural, wouldnít be, I should have died in her place, it was my place to die, she was the good one, the purest being that I had ever seen in my meager existence, pure in the perfect harmony of good and evil, she tread the line with ease, between darkness and light, she tread the line with ease and comfort, while I sit here and rock back and forth upon it, never sure which way Iím going to teeter, whether I should just give up and fall, let myself fall into the endless abyss that awaits me, it would be so much easier, than suffering.  Suffering, alone in the bleakness that surrounds me, they call to me, pulling me in, crying for release, for peace, the peace that Iíve long denied them, my ghosts, my past, they haunt me, every time I close my eyes, every time IÖ every time I think of her, what I didÖ the purity I tried to captureÖ take, violateÖ Iím teetering on the edge, I want to fall, to just let goÖ but he wonít let me.

He never lets me.  Iím alone with the voices, in the voices, drawn to the mouth of hell, and he finds me every time.  Drags me back from the edgeÖ into his arms, into him, and I donít want to fall anymore.  I donít want to be teetering on this precipice about to fall.  I want to be the Man he thinks I can be.  I cry as he holds me, as he guides me back to our apartment, holding me, carrying me when I begin to shake too much to stand, and he doesnít say a word.  He carries me through the darkened streets without as much as a whisper of sound.  

Once home, he cleans my face, washes the tears and grime away, he lays me gently in bed, and he climbs in behind me, holding me, cradling me to his heartbeat.  Iím lulled by it.  It makes the voices go away, his heartbeat is too loud, I canít hear them over him.  Itís always him, pulling me away from that edge, he makes me feel safe, and secureÖ loved.  Iíd forgotten what its like to feel loved.  I can smell him in my dreams.  He smells like home, like love, like forgiveness, he smells like hope.

I close my eyes, as the peace of his presence steals over me, closing my eyes, I find the solitude Iíve been seeking when he isnít here, and I sleep.  In his arms, safe, secureÖ loved, surrounded byÖ hope.




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