Title: Memories
Author: Grizzled Rose
Disclaimer: All characters and etc. Belong to well not me, but their respected parties.
Summary: Someone's been having a bad time, and on a special night some ghost's come to visit. This take's place a few days after season 6's As You Were. (I know it's a little late)
A/N: This isn't really a re-write, more of a redo of the story I started some time ago, and now have started to write again. If I get feedback I am more then willing to continue on with this one. For now there are 4 chapters and the 5th is being worked on. Thanks
GR
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It had been a terrible couple of days, and Spike was just feed up with it all. It all had started when solider-boy had reappeared in Sunnyhell, dropping by and not only crushing all that he had worked on with Buffy but also destroying the whole lower level of his crypt. Granted, when things came to Buffy they were never simple. At least she was beginning to trust him, and not only with the Bit, granted the relationship that they 'had' was far from what he wanted. Still, it was better then this. He'd been thrown back to square one, not only square one but also further back then that. Now she believed that he was some sort of smuggler. Granted he did make a deal with a demon to watch over his bloody eggs for some spare cash, but it's not like he could just go out and get a real job. Spike shuddered at the thought. He had to find some way to buy himself blood and smokes, not only that but he had been slipping $20's around the Summer's house for some time now. How was he to know what the hell those eggs were for, let alone when or how they hatched? Then Captain Cardboard just jumped to the idea that he was this 'Doc' character, like he would ever use that cover name. For sure not after the whole Glory episode last year.
'ARRGGG' Spike mentally screamed at himself. 'I have to stop bloody well going on about Buffy' He was slowly beating himself up over the whole break up from that next afternoon. At first it was the Slayer's same old song and dance, but that last word that fell from her lips. William. She was not just leaving the soulless monster she was using, but what ever of the man that was left within Spike was included in her little speech. The pain that ripped through his chest was worst then any physical wound that he had received in the last 75 years. He flung the empty whiskey bottle that had lain in his hands across the crypt, and blocked every thing but the sound of the smashing glass out of his mind. His vampire hearing picking up even the clink of the glass shard's bouncing of the surrounding surfaces. Spike reached down into the small cardboard box that sat next to his chair and grabbed a new bottle out and wasted no time in opening it and starting in. He quickly pushed his mind past Buffy and her little speech, onto the next bloody event. Not only had Buffy left him, the lower half of the crypt was blown up, and then the demon returned looking for his eggs.
Spike had explained to the git, that he was never given proper instructions on the care of the eggs and it wasn't his fault that the damned things hatched. Or even that the government's 'Special Force' was on the look out for them. So of course not only did Spike refuse to return the demon's money but asked for the second half as well. This led to a very angry demon the size of a small mountain. Spike had taken a very bad beating at its hands, but he gave what he got and in the end he was the one still standing. He had taken a lot of beatings before and this didn't come close to quiet a few of them, tortured by a Hell God, and being the Slayer's personal punching bag was enough to toughen the vampire up. Still it was going to take a few days for some of the bruising to fully heal, and he still didn't get the second part of the payment. Then again he really didn't come through with his part of the deal any way.
Now he sat in his crypt slowly drowning away his pain, both physical and mental. He was alone, half drunk, in pain and what made it all worst? It was his birthday. Not the anniversary of his turning but the day that this creature was brought into the world screaming in protest. Even then surrounded by blood and pain, and hurting the woman closest to him. That wasn't his fault though; all babies are brought into the world like that. But he wasn't in the mood to think like that tonight. Born this day back in 1857 in his father's house in London, the first born child to this 'new money' family. How many life times ago that truly was, so that almost none of that world remained, what little did remain mostly resided in history books and museums. Spike couldn't get settled in his chair, he didn't want to think of these things, to remember those events, but he couldn't help himself either. Growing up in London society, not really excepted, but tolerated because of their wealth. Back in those days the 'new money' and 'old money' crowds didn't mix well, but neither would even dare to mingle with the 'commoners' so they tolerated each other as best as they could. His father had taken the family business and brought it up from a small local shop to one of the most respected bookshops in all of London. Making a lot of money for the family in the process, but it was a very time consuming job to keep the family in such high standards.
What little of his father he did get to see never got along with the boy. There was resentment on William's side, and disappointment on his fathers. He wanted his eldest son to learn the ways of the business world to up hold the family's new name, and pull his head out of the clouds of poems and stories. In those last few years things between the two had gotten to the point of physical blows, in which poor William had no chance. His father decided if 'common sense' wouldn't work with the boy, maybe he could knock some sense into him and back in those days that type of behavior was more or less encouraged. That is where the future Spike learned that if he could change it, he would never be weak again. Even now thinking of the way his father had treated him in those days, got is borrowed blood boiling. He found himself growling at the ghost in his head. As fast as the anger and hurt that thoughts of his father began, they left him, as the slow slide further into his drunken replay of memories continued.
The picture of his mother filled his head. How he loved his mum even to this day he still did, and nothing any one could tell him would change his mind about that fact. He had proven time and again that this 'soulless monster' could love as much as he could hate. The more his thoughts lingered on his own mum, the more Joyce popped in and out of his thoughts. She always did remind him of his own mum. Looking back on the two special women he could see more and more that the two shared. Both women loved and protected their children, and shared a caring nature. Their ability to not judge by reputation, but more so by the actions that were presented to them. It was all too much for him. Tears welled in his eyes. Mum.
Spike didn't know how long he sat there and cried into his balled up fist, trying to push the tears back with all his strength. He was no longer William, but that doesn't mean that a man. A vampire still didn't feel the need for his mother some times. Or still need to grief for the lost of her. He fought himself a little longer until he was drained and worn by all the thinking of the past, and though he felt a pull at his dead, unbeating heart he pushed the thoughts of his mum away locking them back up in the back of his mind. He wanted nothing more then to pass out in a thoughtless drunken state, but one more ghost had to haunt him before this day was done. Not the ghost of his past love's, or even of the jeering faces of those that turned him away from his mortal coil. It was the baby blue eyes of his younger sister, Victoria.
The way her smile could brighten up the cloudy London days as he would read to her from the classic writers of the day. The two children were together every day until society decided that they were no longer children. That it was time for William to begin his schooling and leave those happier days behind him. Victoria followed a few years after him, needing to learn the ways of managing a household. She was his only one true friend in the world until another young woman 120 years later, and in all reality that is one of the first things that drew him to Dawn. It wasn't that she would have made a tasty treat, but that she reminded him of his own little sister. Not that he didn't love Dawn, it was just something going for her in the beginning. His own sister had that same fire about her that would draw you in like a moth, but wouldn't burn. She was strong and fragile at the same time.
That last line stuck in Spikes head. Mum, Joyce, Dawn, Victoria, and even Buffy all the women in his life that he truly loved had that one trait. Strong and fragile. Each in their own way of course, but if you looked at the big picture it was there. He had to admit it was a trait that Spike did admire in these women, coming from a time when women were raised to be but a reed in the wind. To follow ones husband's wishes and take is words as law. In modern times women with this stronger will are not hard to find, but to find them with such a balance in their strengths and weakness. Spike chuckled to himself for the first time in the last couple of days, 'Must be something in a woman's blood that she passes on to her daughters' he thought thinking of the Summer's women and the women in his family as well.
Spike slowly relaxed allowing the whiskey to run its course in his system and finial pull the vampire into the blackness of unconsciousness. The thoughts and memories slowly melting away into the furthest reaches of his mind. Closing his eyes and accepting the darkness, Spike leaned as far back in his chair that he could. As he drifted off to sleep he quietly began humming a soft tune, only beginning to sing its mumbled words as sleep over took his worn mind.
"Happy Birthday to me, Happy Bloody Birthday to me."
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Author: Grizzled Rose
Disclaimer: All characters and etc. Belong to well not me, but their respected parties.
Summary: Someone's been having a bad time, and on a special night some ghost's come to visit. This take's place a few days after season 6's As You Were. (I know it's a little late)
A/N: This isn't really a re-write, more of a redo of the story I started some time ago, and now have started to write again. If I get feedback I am more then willing to continue on with this one. For now there are 4 chapters and the 5th is being worked on. Thanks
GR
@@@
It had been a terrible couple of days, and Spike was just feed up with it all. It all had started when solider-boy had reappeared in Sunnyhell, dropping by and not only crushing all that he had worked on with Buffy but also destroying the whole lower level of his crypt. Granted, when things came to Buffy they were never simple. At least she was beginning to trust him, and not only with the Bit, granted the relationship that they 'had' was far from what he wanted. Still, it was better then this. He'd been thrown back to square one, not only square one but also further back then that. Now she believed that he was some sort of smuggler. Granted he did make a deal with a demon to watch over his bloody eggs for some spare cash, but it's not like he could just go out and get a real job. Spike shuddered at the thought. He had to find some way to buy himself blood and smokes, not only that but he had been slipping $20's around the Summer's house for some time now. How was he to know what the hell those eggs were for, let alone when or how they hatched? Then Captain Cardboard just jumped to the idea that he was this 'Doc' character, like he would ever use that cover name. For sure not after the whole Glory episode last year.
'ARRGGG' Spike mentally screamed at himself. 'I have to stop bloody well going on about Buffy' He was slowly beating himself up over the whole break up from that next afternoon. At first it was the Slayer's same old song and dance, but that last word that fell from her lips. William. She was not just leaving the soulless monster she was using, but what ever of the man that was left within Spike was included in her little speech. The pain that ripped through his chest was worst then any physical wound that he had received in the last 75 years. He flung the empty whiskey bottle that had lain in his hands across the crypt, and blocked every thing but the sound of the smashing glass out of his mind. His vampire hearing picking up even the clink of the glass shard's bouncing of the surrounding surfaces. Spike reached down into the small cardboard box that sat next to his chair and grabbed a new bottle out and wasted no time in opening it and starting in. He quickly pushed his mind past Buffy and her little speech, onto the next bloody event. Not only had Buffy left him, the lower half of the crypt was blown up, and then the demon returned looking for his eggs.
Spike had explained to the git, that he was never given proper instructions on the care of the eggs and it wasn't his fault that the damned things hatched. Or even that the government's 'Special Force' was on the look out for them. So of course not only did Spike refuse to return the demon's money but asked for the second half as well. This led to a very angry demon the size of a small mountain. Spike had taken a very bad beating at its hands, but he gave what he got and in the end he was the one still standing. He had taken a lot of beatings before and this didn't come close to quiet a few of them, tortured by a Hell God, and being the Slayer's personal punching bag was enough to toughen the vampire up. Still it was going to take a few days for some of the bruising to fully heal, and he still didn't get the second part of the payment. Then again he really didn't come through with his part of the deal any way.
Now he sat in his crypt slowly drowning away his pain, both physical and mental. He was alone, half drunk, in pain and what made it all worst? It was his birthday. Not the anniversary of his turning but the day that this creature was brought into the world screaming in protest. Even then surrounded by blood and pain, and hurting the woman closest to him. That wasn't his fault though; all babies are brought into the world like that. But he wasn't in the mood to think like that tonight. Born this day back in 1857 in his father's house in London, the first born child to this 'new money' family. How many life times ago that truly was, so that almost none of that world remained, what little did remain mostly resided in history books and museums. Spike couldn't get settled in his chair, he didn't want to think of these things, to remember those events, but he couldn't help himself either. Growing up in London society, not really excepted, but tolerated because of their wealth. Back in those days the 'new money' and 'old money' crowds didn't mix well, but neither would even dare to mingle with the 'commoners' so they tolerated each other as best as they could. His father had taken the family business and brought it up from a small local shop to one of the most respected bookshops in all of London. Making a lot of money for the family in the process, but it was a very time consuming job to keep the family in such high standards.
What little of his father he did get to see never got along with the boy. There was resentment on William's side, and disappointment on his fathers. He wanted his eldest son to learn the ways of the business world to up hold the family's new name, and pull his head out of the clouds of poems and stories. In those last few years things between the two had gotten to the point of physical blows, in which poor William had no chance. His father decided if 'common sense' wouldn't work with the boy, maybe he could knock some sense into him and back in those days that type of behavior was more or less encouraged. That is where the future Spike learned that if he could change it, he would never be weak again. Even now thinking of the way his father had treated him in those days, got is borrowed blood boiling. He found himself growling at the ghost in his head. As fast as the anger and hurt that thoughts of his father began, they left him, as the slow slide further into his drunken replay of memories continued.
The picture of his mother filled his head. How he loved his mum even to this day he still did, and nothing any one could tell him would change his mind about that fact. He had proven time and again that this 'soulless monster' could love as much as he could hate. The more his thoughts lingered on his own mum, the more Joyce popped in and out of his thoughts. She always did remind him of his own mum. Looking back on the two special women he could see more and more that the two shared. Both women loved and protected their children, and shared a caring nature. Their ability to not judge by reputation, but more so by the actions that were presented to them. It was all too much for him. Tears welled in his eyes. Mum.
Spike didn't know how long he sat there and cried into his balled up fist, trying to push the tears back with all his strength. He was no longer William, but that doesn't mean that a man. A vampire still didn't feel the need for his mother some times. Or still need to grief for the lost of her. He fought himself a little longer until he was drained and worn by all the thinking of the past, and though he felt a pull at his dead, unbeating heart he pushed the thoughts of his mum away locking them back up in the back of his mind. He wanted nothing more then to pass out in a thoughtless drunken state, but one more ghost had to haunt him before this day was done. Not the ghost of his past love's, or even of the jeering faces of those that turned him away from his mortal coil. It was the baby blue eyes of his younger sister, Victoria.
The way her smile could brighten up the cloudy London days as he would read to her from the classic writers of the day. The two children were together every day until society decided that they were no longer children. That it was time for William to begin his schooling and leave those happier days behind him. Victoria followed a few years after him, needing to learn the ways of managing a household. She was his only one true friend in the world until another young woman 120 years later, and in all reality that is one of the first things that drew him to Dawn. It wasn't that she would have made a tasty treat, but that she reminded him of his own little sister. Not that he didn't love Dawn, it was just something going for her in the beginning. His own sister had that same fire about her that would draw you in like a moth, but wouldn't burn. She was strong and fragile at the same time.
That last line stuck in Spikes head. Mum, Joyce, Dawn, Victoria, and even Buffy all the women in his life that he truly loved had that one trait. Strong and fragile. Each in their own way of course, but if you looked at the big picture it was there. He had to admit it was a trait that Spike did admire in these women, coming from a time when women were raised to be but a reed in the wind. To follow ones husband's wishes and take is words as law. In modern times women with this stronger will are not hard to find, but to find them with such a balance in their strengths and weakness. Spike chuckled to himself for the first time in the last couple of days, 'Must be something in a woman's blood that she passes on to her daughters' he thought thinking of the Summer's women and the women in his family as well.
Spike slowly relaxed allowing the whiskey to run its course in his system and finial pull the vampire into the blackness of unconsciousness. The thoughts and memories slowly melting away into the furthest reaches of his mind. Closing his eyes and accepting the darkness, Spike leaned as far back in his chair that he could. As he drifted off to sleep he quietly began humming a soft tune, only beginning to sing its mumbled words as sleep over took his worn mind.
"Happy Birthday to me, Happy Bloody Birthday to me."
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