Notes: The chance of me making this more than a one-shot depends on the reviews I get. Personally, I think that's the last thing I need to do right now. I have 7 WIPs, an awards site, an art site, a fic site, and two virtual series I help out with. I may or may not do it. Let's leave it that. This fic was semi-inspired by reading We Are All Hollow Men by ShinodaBear.
And Then A Whimper
They say that the world will end with a whimper, not a bang. He thinks he can believe they, whoever They happen to be. He figures They have to be important. How can they not be important when the only thing everyone calls them is They?
Oh, William, come to me. I will care for you, and then you will care for me. Forever.
Of course, mother.
They don't matter. Nothing does. The world's ending, and it's not some big battle of all evil versus all good. It's a normal day. A day where people woke up, had breakfast and went to work. A day when they went throughout their day, not knowing that they wouldn't live to see tomorrow.
Where did the mummy go?
She didn't work out. Let's go, please.
But was the world really ending in ten minutes? He'd thought that it was, but he felt as if his world had already ended. He'd survived everything, lived only to see the inevitable arrive ten months later. What was the fucking point?
How many times do I have to tell you it's Spike, mate.
His life was a mess. From the beginning. He'd lived for other people. First, he'd lived for his mother. He was supposed to take care of her. His father had told him that was his responsibility, and William had taken it seriously, he had followed through every hour of every day…until he'd met Drusilla.
And I wonder... what possible catastrophe came crashing down from heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears?
He'd lost himself within Drusilla. She'd been his entire world for more than a century. His creator, his lover. The one woman he thought he'd had forever with. He'd picked up the pieces, taken care of her, because of what she'd meant to him. And she'd been so bloody whimsical. And then he lost her. He'd lost her, because somewhere along the line he'd let her go and found someone else.
You're the one who keeps bringing her up! I haven't said a word about the bloody Slayer since we left California. She's on the other side of the planet, Dru!
But you're lying! I can still see her floating all around you, laughing. Why? Why won't you push her away?
Someone good. Someone white hat. Buffy.
Dru, let's celebrate.
Two down, one to go. But she never will, will she? You'll never let her.
He'd fallen for Buffy in the midst of hating her. He'd loved her, because he'd been surrounded by her, needed to be. He couldn't think straight without her there. Just…right there, near him. And he'd had her. For a while, he'd had her. She'd let him in, let him fill her, let him have some part of her…but he never had all of her. He never will.
I love you.
No, you don't. But thanks for saying it.
Close one door and open a new one, right? In the span of one year, he left behind the love he'd filled his heart with for Buffy…and he'd fallen in love again. With the hero of the piece once more. He fell in love with Angel, despite how much he wanted to spectacularly hate the bastard.
There is one thing about you…
Really?
Yeah, I never told anybody about this, but I—I liked your poems.
You like Barry Manilow.
But Spike never really had him. Angel was always moving, always going, and Spike didn't keep up as much as he wanted to. But he came damn close. After it was all said and done, he'd gotten that one sweet chaste kiss, more than enough for a lifetime. And then Angel was gone. Not disappeared gone. Dead gone. He'd been there one minute, giving Spike just a taste of seven minutes in heaven, and then he was gone. A baton had been passed on-the vision one. But Spike didn't want it. Couldn't.
You should be watching your back instead of trying to get a shag.
I would, but you're distracting. And the dragon's dead. Should get points for that.
Angel, just watch your--
He'd sat there, in the alley that suddenly reeked of death and pain, until he was in danger of being ended by the sun. He doesn't remember getting up though, because he knows he didn't want to. God, or whoever, knew he didn't want to. He wanted to burn away again. And she'd shown. Like a bat out of hell. His unwanted savior. Illyria.
I feel concern for your well being. Should I?
She'd protected him for as long as she deemed it possible. And he'd taught her about humanity, about life. The world. But he was miserable, and she knew it, and she could only offer herself. So, he lost himself in her. He lost himself deep inside her in nights where he felt alone, and she let him. And he'd found somewhere he wanted to stay forever. But it couldn't last. It never did.
I am telling you to run. Don't you understand?
Illyria-
I have found love. With you. I cannot let you be harmed. Go!
He'd left Illyria, fighting not for her own existence, but for his. Somehow in the seven months they'd spent in each other's company, he'd melted an ice berg previously frozen, and she cared. She cared enough to be selfless. It almost made him wish he loved her back. Almost.
You look like you lost your best friend.
Lost more than that. Push off.
He'd spent three months by himself, wondering where she was. Illyria. He knew she survived. Power like hers can't be brought down, contained. It's too much for that. So he knew she was okay. He didn't know where, but he found a bit of comfort in the fact that she most likely wanted to find him. And she would, but they wouldn't be together. Because she'd left. And because the world was going to end infive minutes. But not literally.
Spike.
Dawn.
You're alive.
Yeah. About that…don't tell Buffy.
Why?
Because It doesn't matter anymore. Nothing does.
Sweet, innocent Dawn. He'd changed her. She didn't tell Buffy, but she wouldn't let him leave. They spent the last two of the three months together, him still wondering about Illyria, even as Dawn gave everything of herself to him. Dawn was still in love with him, and, almost like Illyria, she wanted to please him. She wanted to make him happy, okay. He almost let himself fall in love with her. Dawn. Almost let himself go to find peace and comfort buried inside her, to find warmth in her kiss. It didn't work.
Spike! Spike, wake up! It's a nightmare!
No.
Huh? Then what is it?
The world's going to end. And no one's going to be able to stop it.
She left a week ago, she and her sister still trying. They would keep trying, because Summers women never gave up. They were just like their mother. Strong. Buffy didn't try to find him. Dawn wanted him to come with her. He couldn't. He wanted to see how it ended. How it all went down.
I wish to take you into another world with me. Survive this one and return for the aftermath.
I can't, Blue. Sorry.
Illyria found him, an hour ago. But he wouldn't leave with her. He couldn't. They all thought it was supernatural. The way the world ended. He could see Willow practicing spells and Giles reading book, as Buffy trained slayers to fight. They couldn't fight this. It was undefeatable. Because it wasn't magic. It wasn't demons. There's one minute left.
Is it wrong that I will hope for your survival?
Not at all. I do too. But-
You have to see how it ends. I understand now…I...love you.
I know.
No one knew it was coming but the government. They'd spent the past week, hiding it from the media. But their computers were failing. And not just in the states; all around the world. From his spot on the cliff in his nightmare, he watches the stray, uncontrolled atomic bomb explode. At the other points of the world, the bombs explode too. He doesn't see them, but he knows from the vision he'd had that they do. And no one notices, ironically. Not only are there people dying from the instant the bomb hits the earth, but there's pure radiation leaking out into the air. And no one will notice, but the governments No one will notice until tomorrow. Tomorrow, someone's not going to wake up. Tomorrow, someone's going to keel over in the street. By the end of tomorrow, most will be dead. And it'll continue to escalate over the week. Even Dawn, even Buffy. All the do gooders that you'd think would survive. It's kind of anti-climatic when you think about it.
So, this is the way the world ends. Sounds like a party.
But, he'll be here after the end. Vampires don't need to breathe, and he's been forcing himself not to, maybe practicing just in case-how the hell does he know if radiation affects a vampire, since the nightmare. Illyria's going to return to this plane soon, and it'll be him and her, and whoever else manages to survive, as everything restarts. But it won't be the same. It never will. Never again. So, he thinks that maybe They are just a little off. Even if They are all-powerful and non-name having. Maybe it doesn't really end with just a whimper.
Maybe there's a bang, and then a whimper.
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