Title: Driving
By: rainyday
Rating: PG-13 (some language, maybe)
Feedback: would be lovely!
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the one & only Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox, etc. Don't sue me, cause I ain't got no money.
Distribution: You want it? It's yours, just let me know where.
Summary: Spike on the road, thinking about the events of "Seeing Red".
Note: This story was partially inspired by the PJ Harvey song, "Driving". Lyrics at end of story.
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Black night, black road, stretching out for miles before me. I'm just driving, pushing the bike faster, harder, racing toward what, I'm not sure. Racing away is more like it, I guess. I am hypnotized by the road, the yellow line consuming my focus, because if I lose sight of that, I'll remember, Her voice, no her scream. Tears trickling down that perfect face. The horror in her eyes. The betrayal. Never, in all my long, long, life unlife, I suppose, had I ever caused that much horror in the eyes of my victim. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I had turned the woman I love into my victim. The yellow line, focus on the yellow line.
Sun rising soon. Must find somewhere to hide from it's deadly light. Light. She used to be so full of light, before everything- Angel, Riley, Joyce, Glory, her death and subsequent mockery of a resurrectionbefore me. It used to burn me, that light of hers. Wanted to snuff it out for so long, then all I wanted was to bask in it. By the time I got close enough, it was all but faded. Funny how my potentially imminent death from sunlight leads me to thoughts of her, but then again, she is never far from my thoughts. Who am I kidding? She is my thoughts. Definite lightening of the sky now. There is a part of me that is saying don't bother to find shelter from the sun. Just let it take you, you bloody wanker, you deserve to be immolated for what you've done. And that part of me is right, of course. But I'm too weak, have always been too weak. So, up ahead, I see and pull into some anonymous highway motel. Check in and rush to the room. Make sure the curtains are well closed. Bed. Bed good. Sleep now. Sleep will make it go away, for a little while.
"NO", "Please, please stop, please Spike, don't"! Sound of feet and hands hitting the floor, fabric pulling away. Madness and terror in the harsh overhead light. Tears and anguish, pure anguish rising like smoke from the cold bathroom tile.
With a jolt, I sit up in bed. In my dreams too, huh? Nightmares to be sure. Ah, no rest for the wicked. Getting up to grab a fag, I peer out the window. Still some sun left. About another hour or so, before I can get back on the road into the wild unknown. What am I doing? I wonder. For the millionth time since leaving Sunnydale, (guess it's been a week? 2? Time has no meaning. I guess immortality and almost raping your lover will do that to you), I wonder if I should have bloody listened to Clem. He's a hell of a mate, to be sure, but maybe I should have thought this whole "kooky shaman" idea through a bit. Bloody hell! Who am I kidding? I have been and probably will always be an impatient, impulsive prat. Grab the world by the balls is my motto. Honestly, what else can I do at this point? It seems to be the only way. I have to do something. Drastic times, and all that.
For the first time in over a century, I am truly afraid. Afraid of what the future holds for me. Don't think I ever gave it all that much thought before. Again, immortality sort of makes the future a moot point. I am also afraid of what I'm going to do, what I'll be able to do. The nice thing about being a soulless demon, well in the pre-chip, pre- all consuming love of the slayer days, was the lack of free will. Sure, all vamps like to think that they are exercising their free will to cause mayhem, destruction and a healthy dose of death, but they're not really. The demon sets up shop in the body, and that's pretty much that. It does the only thing it knows how to do- it kills. No free will in that. But me? Will it happen to me again once this blasted chip is out of my head, assuming of course I live through whatever this shaman is going to put me through? Or am I too far gone? Too far away from the demon I was, and god knows I feel light years away from the man I was. I am terrified that I will lose the will to choose. To choose to be bad, to choose to be good. And god knows I'm scared shitless to think that I will, finally, be able to really choose which it's going to be.
I have changed. I know that I have. The question is how much. And is it enough? I would have said yes in a heartbeat.pause to consider the irony in so much of my language a few weeks ago, before that night. That night that I was more of a demon than ever. For over a century I cut a swath across Europe, and several other continents, of blood and carnage, and pure, unmitigated terror, and never had I forced myself on a woman that way. Never hurt someone I loved. Sad that. William the Bloody never lost his ability to love or hurt, apparently. Chip, no chip, love and pain, always hand in bloody hand in my reality.
No more introspection. Not very good at sustaining it for very long. Not like my ponce of a grand-sire- could sit and think for days, even sans soul and stupid hair. I just have to get back on my bike, and keep on driving. Face the future like a man, or a demon, whatever, take your pick. I'll have to soon. Take my pick, I mean.
So what's it going to be William? Man or demon? I suppose I'll know when I get there.
"Tell him I'm driving, it's alright
Turning on this wheel, turning on headlights
A hundred different bibles by my side
In my white gown, I go flying down
Oh my eyes, it cannot be
He said "NO", it cannot be
All that time, it cannot be
Easy said, it cannot be
The ghosts fly their asses off tonight
I'm just driving, till it dies
Tell him I'm driving, it's alright
You tell him that I had a skin full
You tell him that I couldn't sit still
Imagine your whole self is filled with light
Your voice ringing out
Through the whole fucking town
Oh my eyes, it cannot be
He said "NO", it cannot be
All that time, it cannot be
Oh my eyes, it cannot be
You tell him I'm driving"