Title: The Powers That Be Must Be Crazy
Summary: Ever wonder how Spike went from lovesick poet to ruthless killer? Neither did the Scooby Gang, that is, until someone says something they're likely to regret for the rest of their lives.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not yours... unless you're Joss.
Spoilers: Season 7 BtVS/ Season 4 AtS.
Feedback: It makes me smile. Please, it's what keeps me going in the writing business.
Author's Note: Now, this was originally planned as a sequel to "If I See One More Apocalypse," but after writing for a
while, I realized that it could marvelously as a fic on its own. This one takes place in a different time (*during* Season
7/AtS S4) with all the characters in character. Tara, this time, is gone; Giles is in England; Xander and Anya aren't; Anya's a
demon; and Spike's whacked out of his gourd.
*****
Chapter One: The Ramblings of an Ex-Poet
*****
"It's pathetic, really, how the mighty fall from grace. Even more so considering how hard they worked to become mighty in the first place.
"They've never seen how I came to be, how I became who I am, and how hard I really fell to be what I am now. Not that they care; they never did. Never will. Never will.
"Will. Will... William. They've never seen who he was, how he rose from the ashes of a broken heart. Not that they care. Nope... They don't care. Not one bit. They'll spend the rest of their days just knowing Spike. What he did while he was in Sunnydale.
"They don't care how I came to be. Who I was. They see me a broken shell of something once great and glorious."
Silence. "You're right. I never let them see him. Hidden, always hidden. For good reason. Reputations are powerful things to maintain."
More silence, longer this time. "No. No. That can't be." The silence returned. "You're lying!" Silence. "Impossible. How?" The room hushed as the answer was given. "Of course. Wishes are powerful things, you know. Can transport you through time and space, allow you to see things never imagined before when put in the right hands.
"The wish-maker's hands were my undoing; my rebirth. In death brings life, in life brings death. Mother used to tell me that in her lullabies. Haunting lullabies, they were. Haunting when I was young, still learning.
"She taught me everything. They don't know that either. They never liked her, never wanted to." The silence returned, only to be replied to by a chuckle. "Like mother, like son, they always say.
"If what you're saying is true, then they'll know soon enough. But they won't want to. Not right away, anyway. But they'll learn. Only when they become a team will they know.
"The course of time never did run smooth." With that cliché, Spike's speech was over and a feeling of clarity filled his mind once more.
"Spike?"
The bleached vampire appeared from the shadows into Dawn's range of view.
"Who are you talking to?"
"No one," he replied a little too quickly. "I was talking to no one."
Dawn gave him a crooked smile, much like his own. "And I'm supposed to believe a crazy vampire out of the goodness of my heart?"
"If you want to." Spike looked hard into the young Summers eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be up there learning and not down here teasing lunatic vampires?"
"It's 3:15, Spike. School's been out for fifteen minutes, now."
Spike crossed his arms and looked down on the teen. "Back in my day," the vampire lectured in an accent he hadn't spoken in since Queen Victoria's reign, "children went home after school and didn't loiter around school grounds."
Dawn laughed at what she thought was an impersonation of a stuffy British guy. "At least I have a home away from school grounds."
"Touchè, Lady Summers," he continued in his Victorian dialect. "Now depart before you begin a battle you're likely to lose." The accent dropped. "I mean it. Go home. This school is built on the Hellmouth and bad things have, and are still, lurking."
"Touchè, Sir William," Dawn mimicked, then did an about face and headed up the stairs toward the door. And as she began to turn the knob-
"Dawn?"
"Yeah?"
"How much of my rambling *did* you hear? Just curious, is all."
She re-imitated Spike's infamous lopsided grin. "'If what you're saying is true, then they'll know soon enough. But they won't want to. Not right away, anyway. But they'll learn. Only when they become a team will they know.'" She paused for the dramatic effect it would create. "'The course of time never did run smooth.'" And, as suddenly as she had entered, the basement door clicked shut.
That silence returned, but this time no answer lay in it. It was just silence. Blank empty silence. Except for the voices in his head, but they would never go away.
Without knowing what he was doing, he did the grin Dawn admired him for and shook his head sympathetically.
"Poor kid doesn't know what's coming."
