Hi every body! I would like to dedicate this to my friend AD. Oh and Joss W. owns all the charters. It takes place about 100 years from now. It's about Spike and well, Yeah. Oh. Please review!
"Oh God no! I don't deserve to die like this! Some body! Help me!" The woman stood huddled in an alley with tears streaming down her face and sobs racking her body until it seemed she would fall over. She was alone in the Alley
Her clothes were old fashioned. A tube top and jeans with flip-flops. Something like they'd worn in the early part of the century. Almost one hundred years ago.
A man stood against the wall on a street adjacent to the alley. His bleached hair resting against the harsh old bricks of the old Sunnydale bank. Her screams blending with the loud din of times gone by.
He had not been to this part of California in years. But now as he listened to her scream and plead to no one, he could not figure out why but his mind drifted back over time to a time when he had been in love with a girl who was destined to hate him and when he had been in love with LIFE. (whatever that met to a vampire) Those were the glory days. A time he could never go back to.
Time rolls on and on for all time and only the creatures of the night rolled with it. In the past twenty years alone there had been four slayers. He could not remember how old Buffy was when she died (the last time) but he knew that no other slayer had lived that long since.
They had all been good in their own rite but none of them were Buffy. None of them broke all the rules to do it her way. When she died, Spike just left. Left Sunnydale. Left California. Left the country. He traveled to England where he was born and began to keep to himself. A major change from earlier centuries when he strove to stand out.
Two of the slayers had heard about him and sought him out but he had little patience for them and without hurting them, he locked them in a cellar like thing in his crypt to die of starvation.
Likewise many fellow vampires sought him out to kill him and they met much quicker ends by means of stakes. Spike had little patience for anything that moved.
He saw the world as something that he was witness to but could not touch or interfere. like the time as a child when he and his friends went skating on the pond. his mother didn't want him to go but he went anyhow.
The ice was still thin and they were racing across the ice and William was ahead when he heard a shout from behind him. the sound of ice cracking and the splash as Jake Tarence fell under. The shouts of the others boys and Jake's sister on the bank screaming. The next few minutes were a blur.
Spike remembered standing there looking at Jake's face beneath the ice. The other boy was thrashing around trying to get up but had been pushed away from the opening where he'd fallen in by the force of the water. Jake's eyes locked with William's for one instant before they closed.
That was how Spike felt now. Unable to move or free himself. He looked at the world from under the ice. Unable and unwilling to let go of the past. He wanted only to be back to then. When he had the closest thing to friends he'd ever had.
But now as he stood against the wall listening to the woman scream and yell unto the unforgiving nothingness that Spike knew so well, he thought about what had brought him back to this small little town so close to what he once knew as love.
He'd had a dream. For the first time in almost 100 years. He dreamed that he was standing on a cliff. He was human and ready to die. He was trying to force himself to jump but suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. And then another and then another. He turned around and there standing behind him was every one. Giles. Dawn. Willow. Tara. Xander. Buffy. Every one. It would not have seemed so strange to him if he hadn't been thinking of going into the sunlight. To feel it burst upon his skin for the first time in almost three hundred years.
And so he'd come back. The town had grown up and now everything he remembered was either gone or a museum telling young little twits about the history of their town which none of them cared about. What did it matter to them that they lived in one of strangest most certifiably haunted towns in the country? Nothing. they went to the graveyard or the magic shop to see ghost and get a cheap thrill but no one really cared. No one.
Few vampires lived in Sunnydale anymore. The few who did were young and never made it long. Spike felt like he was lost in a world of machines and such.
But the woman. Here in Old Town Sunnydale. She was afraid of something. Something real. "No! Please. I can't die like this. Oh God! I can't go like THIS!" Her cries echoing off the walls and causing the light in a museum curator's home to go on across the street.
Spike turned to go see if he could shut the woman up. He turned the corner and watched her every controlled movement. So strong and yet she seemed so frail. She was young. Or had been. As he approached her he relized what he was looking at. He WAS alone in the alley. This was a ghost. Faith.
His mind stretched back to another time when he watched as a demon had come from the shadows and attacked her. Spike remembered it was around the same time he got that damned chip out of his head. He began to beat her. She was caught unawares and unable to defend herself. Something had reduced her to these tears that Spike had thought very uncharacteristic. But still the demon had pushed on. Hitting her and repaying her for all her past sins. As if he was a god.
Spike turned and fled the alley. He ran until he reached Buffy's old house. or what was left of it. All that reminded was the chimney and the front steps upon which Spike now sat. To think and wait for the sun. Maybe it was time for him to join them. Every single one.
"Oh God no! I don't deserve to die like this! Some body! Help me!" The woman stood huddled in an alley with tears streaming down her face and sobs racking her body until it seemed she would fall over. She was alone in the Alley
Her clothes were old fashioned. A tube top and jeans with flip-flops. Something like they'd worn in the early part of the century. Almost one hundred years ago.
A man stood against the wall on a street adjacent to the alley. His bleached hair resting against the harsh old bricks of the old Sunnydale bank. Her screams blending with the loud din of times gone by.
He had not been to this part of California in years. But now as he listened to her scream and plead to no one, he could not figure out why but his mind drifted back over time to a time when he had been in love with a girl who was destined to hate him and when he had been in love with LIFE. (whatever that met to a vampire) Those were the glory days. A time he could never go back to.
Time rolls on and on for all time and only the creatures of the night rolled with it. In the past twenty years alone there had been four slayers. He could not remember how old Buffy was when she died (the last time) but he knew that no other slayer had lived that long since.
They had all been good in their own rite but none of them were Buffy. None of them broke all the rules to do it her way. When she died, Spike just left. Left Sunnydale. Left California. Left the country. He traveled to England where he was born and began to keep to himself. A major change from earlier centuries when he strove to stand out.
Two of the slayers had heard about him and sought him out but he had little patience for them and without hurting them, he locked them in a cellar like thing in his crypt to die of starvation.
Likewise many fellow vampires sought him out to kill him and they met much quicker ends by means of stakes. Spike had little patience for anything that moved.
He saw the world as something that he was witness to but could not touch or interfere. like the time as a child when he and his friends went skating on the pond. his mother didn't want him to go but he went anyhow.
The ice was still thin and they were racing across the ice and William was ahead when he heard a shout from behind him. the sound of ice cracking and the splash as Jake Tarence fell under. The shouts of the others boys and Jake's sister on the bank screaming. The next few minutes were a blur.
Spike remembered standing there looking at Jake's face beneath the ice. The other boy was thrashing around trying to get up but had been pushed away from the opening where he'd fallen in by the force of the water. Jake's eyes locked with William's for one instant before they closed.
That was how Spike felt now. Unable to move or free himself. He looked at the world from under the ice. Unable and unwilling to let go of the past. He wanted only to be back to then. When he had the closest thing to friends he'd ever had.
But now as he stood against the wall listening to the woman scream and yell unto the unforgiving nothingness that Spike knew so well, he thought about what had brought him back to this small little town so close to what he once knew as love.
He'd had a dream. For the first time in almost 100 years. He dreamed that he was standing on a cliff. He was human and ready to die. He was trying to force himself to jump but suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. And then another and then another. He turned around and there standing behind him was every one. Giles. Dawn. Willow. Tara. Xander. Buffy. Every one. It would not have seemed so strange to him if he hadn't been thinking of going into the sunlight. To feel it burst upon his skin for the first time in almost three hundred years.
And so he'd come back. The town had grown up and now everything he remembered was either gone or a museum telling young little twits about the history of their town which none of them cared about. What did it matter to them that they lived in one of strangest most certifiably haunted towns in the country? Nothing. they went to the graveyard or the magic shop to see ghost and get a cheap thrill but no one really cared. No one.
Few vampires lived in Sunnydale anymore. The few who did were young and never made it long. Spike felt like he was lost in a world of machines and such.
But the woman. Here in Old Town Sunnydale. She was afraid of something. Something real. "No! Please. I can't die like this. Oh God! I can't go like THIS!" Her cries echoing off the walls and causing the light in a museum curator's home to go on across the street.
Spike turned to go see if he could shut the woman up. He turned the corner and watched her every controlled movement. So strong and yet she seemed so frail. She was young. Or had been. As he approached her he relized what he was looking at. He WAS alone in the alley. This was a ghost. Faith.
His mind stretched back to another time when he watched as a demon had come from the shadows and attacked her. Spike remembered it was around the same time he got that damned chip out of his head. He began to beat her. She was caught unawares and unable to defend herself. Something had reduced her to these tears that Spike had thought very uncharacteristic. But still the demon had pushed on. Hitting her and repaying her for all her past sins. As if he was a god.
Spike turned and fled the alley. He ran until he reached Buffy's old house. or what was left of it. All that reminded was the chimney and the front steps upon which Spike now sat. To think and wait for the sun. Maybe it was time for him to join them. Every single one.