Days
Author: Mkatsi
Rating: PG, some disturbing images, self harm.
Pairings: Semi Spike/Xander, mentions Spike/Angel.
Feedback: Yes Please
Disclaimer: The boy's aint mine nor is the Song.
Distribution: Please ask and let me know where it's going.
Summary: Living in Xanders apartment is both a blessing and a curse when you've been newly souled. Songfic inspired by Bowie's 'Days'
Brief disclaimer and thanks to David Bowie for (hopefully) not suing me for use of his wonderful lyrics (i love you sir, you are my god)
Days. It had been mere days since they had 'rescued' Spike from that basement but to Xander, the insane vamps volunteered roomie, it seemed like eons. Eons of tossing and turning at night trying so hard not to listen to that- that noise, to the almost constant murmur to the people that only Spike could see, to his victims, or the first, or to himself...and then to the pitiful sobbing that always followed- and it was hard, it was against Xander's nature to just sit back and not do anything to help a person in pain- but then Spike wasn't a person was he? He was a monster- a murderer, a fiend, an attempted rapist- but Xander couldn't help thinking, he knew even, that that was what was going though Spike's mind, or though his souls anyway- but it didn't change the fact that he was dangerous- people with souls did all those evil things anyway, and Spike was already accustomed to that way of life, so why trust him now? Buffy did- Xander did not.
Spike sat, his figure was hunched in a corner, back to the wall, the only way he felt remotely safe these days, the voices swarming around him. And he was alone. Always alone, ever since- but he couldn't think about that, not that he ever really did'nt, it was always in the back of his mind- the very thing that both ruined his life, and in a way saved it. His soul, William's soul- the soul. It didn't matter how he phrased it, it never sounded right, but it was almost killing him, yet he felt like he was a better person for having it. Not a better man, he couldn't call himself a man, not after everything, yet he felt so much worse, because half of having a soul was conscience wasn't it? Or that's how humans like to see it he tells himself, that's how they see it…just a conscience to destroy him through memories.
It was a good thing he knew that, it was just that when he was huddled and screaming at himself inside and out, he couldn't remember why- sure he'd done bad things, and, recently, one very bad thing but he'd felt for it then, so why get a soul- for that thing, the thing that ruined everything he had here-
That's why idiot because you had things and you murdered it with your- actions. Because it can never happen again- death would be too kind…
He'd had an almost happy life, he was almost part of a group, almost been helpful, almost had a place, almost had friends- no, that was gone, Xander showed that in every step- every glance and every breath.
Now it was all of it gone, and he was alone, again- and it was- too much. He. Wanted. Help. He. Wanted. Comfort. He Wanted.
Hold me tight
Keep me cool
Going mad
Don't know what to do
He didn't deserve it, he knew that, he'd been told, by him- by it, but that
didn't stop the racking, tearing longing that ate him from the inside out,
corrupting his mind and every waking thought that didn't tell him he didn't
deserve it- and it made it so much worse, sensing, feeling, knowing, that Xander,
his once-upon-a-time-almost-would-be-friend, the only guy he knew with a heart that
was really truely selfless and not to mention bigger than a Glorof Demon's:- was there, just one room away, seething with hatred for him, wishing just as much as the vampire was that he didn't exist or that he would feel pain fitting to that he had caused.
Do I need a friend?
Well, I need one now
Spike thought, thought back to all the times Xander had said he wished the vampire dead or gone, then how many times the boy [man - more man than you'll ever be] had thrown himself into the fray of some battle just to save Spike from a attack from behind – and no, the irony wasn't lost on the vampire.
All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you
For all the times Spike had called Xander names, all the times he'd called him pathetic, and watched by and laughed as the human fought to save his friends, had he meant it? Can he have missed such rash bravery, the only one of the gang with out the super-powers and the real heart of it? Yes, he'd missed it, or seen it and passed it off as useless. William cried. Spike broke down just a little more for all the things he'd done, and for all the things he'd missed and not done.
All I've done
I've done for me
All you gave
You gave for free
I gave nothing in return
And there's little left of me
Couldn't, couldn't take it, had he told Xander he was sorry? Had he shown him? He'd avoided him,yes, screamed at the people standing beside him, but no he couldn't recall talking to Xander, was that because the human was avoiding him? He could'nt remember that either- and before he knew what he was doing, there suddenly wasn't the small comfort of cold wall pressed firmly against his back and his stiff joints were screaming and he was out of his door, the dim lights of the living room almost horribly blinding to his tired, sore eyes, and he was standing outside that door, and Xander had to know he was there but he wasn't turning him away so he had to take the chance before he went mad- or went completely over the edge anyway…
In red-eyed pain I'm knocking on your door again
My crazy brain in tangles
Pleading for your gentle voice
Those storms keep pounding through my head and heart
I pray you'll soothe my sorry soul
And then some how there is a drift of air and he's staring briefly into serious deep eyes, before he has to drop the gaze, he's not brave enough to hold it, but it was long enough he thinks, he's shown, he hopes; William's eyes. And he's falling and there are arms, or at least he thinks they're arms, hopes they are. Whatever it is, he feels safer, its better than the walls, and the dark, and the voices are struggling against the tide of almost-calm, and he's there, almost there for a moment, and he'll last- just a little longer.
All the days of my life All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you