Buffy the Vampire Slayer Preferences + imagines/one shots

Spike Imagine - Cry

Spike's POV

I'm using y/n lol cus i can't think of any character names :0

From the moment she walks through the door, I know something is wrong. 

Don't ask me how I know, I suppose it's a vampire thing.

Or a me thing. I can sense things when it comes to her.

I watch her from the bar as she approaches Tara, Willow, Anya and Xander, dragging her feet a little with her shoulders slightly slumped. She straightens up when they spot her, and she offers a half-smile in their direction. I take a sip of my whiskey that a girl across the bar brought me. 

She comes over now, blonde hair swishing behind her.

"Hey."

"Hey."

She frowns when I take a beat to look at her. 

"You're really..." she begins, but she reeks of alcohol and pot and I hope she'll get home safe because she wouldn't be coming back to mine in any circumstance. 

"Sorry, love. You're wasted, I'm a vampire, this would never work." I get up and without a glance backwards, I climb up the stairs, two at a time, until I can see The Bronze in its entirety. From the balcony, I watch Y/N make an excuse and sit to the side while her friends take to the dance floor. I'm not surprised they haven't noticed she's not okay, but I'm still disappointed for her sake.

It seems like more and more often she comes to me with her problems. I'll never complain (why would I?) but it's a shame to say the least - having friends but not being able to talk to them when it matters... I remember a life like that. More like two lifetimes but now I'm alone. I don't know which is worse. 

After a while, she comes up the stairs and slides into one of the black booths with the squishy leather seats. There aren't many people up here but she doesn't catch me watching her because she's in a world of her own. 

"A penny for your thoughts, pet?" 

My chest tightens when I see I've startled her - she jumps and her mouth opens, then closes. She sighs, gesturing vaguely for me to sit down opposite her, which makes a smile tug on my lips before I remember why I'm here.

She doesn't speak for a long while and I consider leaving her with her thoughts, before she sighs and meets my eyes.

"How come, when I'm miserable, you always seem to turn up?"

I can only clench my jaw at her words. I don't tell her that I'm the only one of her friends that notices when she's low, or that I'm the only one of them that bothers to check on her once in a while. Instead, I shrug and respond, "I don't know, pet."

My thoughts race with what could be wrong. Last time it was Cordelia not calling on her birthday. The time before that, it was insufferable period cramps and before that, it was persistent nightmares. I pray the problem isn't as upsetting as the way those nightmares affected her, but I can't know until she opens up.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

Her nose twitches and her chin trembles. I find myself wanting to stop the inevitable, a sad pull in my chest telling me to do anything to stop her crying, but I can't. Fat tears rolls down her cheeks as she whispers, "It's Tommy. Tommy's dead."

Despite knowing this girl more than anyone on the planet (that's living, at least), the name Tommy only rings a vague bell. Is he a distant uncle, an old friend...? 

"He - he," she hiccups, "He was found on the side of the road, all battered and bleeding. His nose wasn't even that cute little pink anymore. Dad had to put him out of his misery. It was the saddest thing I've ever seen."