Thanks to Beth at BAPS for inspiring this
fic. Thanks to Joss Whedon for writing a thought-provoking show.
Thanks to James Marsters for being a fabulous actor.
Spike watched her dance. She was
so young, so succulent. Yeah. She'd make a nice trophy, a pretty
corpse. Unconsciously his tongue touched his top lip. Just
wait. Wait 'til Saturday.
Spike watched her slay. Vampire dust
filled the air. So powerful. Mmmm. This was going to
be fun. He brought his hands together, applauding her performance.
"Nice work, love."
"Who are you?"
"You'll find out on Saturday."
"What happens on Saturday?"
"I kill you."
Spike never kept his promises.
Spike watched her die. Well, not
exactly. He was there though. And he killed her. But
it wasn't a Saturday.
Buffy's lips pressed to Spike's.
His body ached. His heart ached. He felt like a guilty boy.
Guilt. Interesting emotion, that. "And my robot?"
"The robot is gone. The robot was gross
and obscene . . . What you did for me and Dawn . . . that was real.
I won't forget it."
Spike watched her leave. He did nothing.
Absolutely bloody nothing. She's gone and he did nothing.
Spike woke up and felt the burning of his
leg, a leg he'd purposely placed so the sun would hit it. Better
than a fucking alarm clock. Another dawn. But no Buffy.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Spike took a swig of whiskey. Whiskey
was his drink of choice now, even more than blood. Drinking blood
made him remember what he was. Drinking whiskey made him forget.
He felt the substance burn its way down his esophagus and wished it were
real fire. He'd been consumed once. Buffy had done that.
Now there was just an empty shell. A shell he wished he could burn
and leave as ashes. But he was too much of a wanker. Spike
took another swig of whiskey and watched the second hand on the new watch
he'd bought. He'd never thought about time before. Now he wanted
to watch every passing second of the eternity that was his miserable life.
It gave him a masochistic pleasure to consider the second hand, dragging
itself along. He wanted to feel every second of pain. He wanted
to live every second of his failure.
"I'm counting on you, Spike. To protect
her."
"'Til the end of the world. Even
if that happens to be tonight."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Spike roused himself from his drunken stupor.
Time to go kill stuff. Had he been able to look in a mirror he would
have seen his face, gaunt and pale from lack of blood. He was starving
himself. His hair, which he had meticulously bleached every two weeks,
was a shaggy blonde-brown mess. He no longer had his duster.
He had buried that with Buffy. He didn't want it anymore.
Spike emerged from his crypt and silently
prayed to whatever deity he knew didn't exist that he wouldn't see one
of the Scoobies. After their last meeting, Spike hoped they'd gotten
the message. He didn't want to have anything to do with them.
He didn't want anything to do with anything. He just wanted to kill.
And he soon got his wish. A vampire
emerged from the earth below him, grabbing his ankle. Crunch.
Spike's boot connected with its head. Spike stood back and waited
for the vamp to recover. The creature rushed him. Spike's fist
connected with his jaw. He felt it break beneath his knuckles.
The monster went down. Spike kicked it. And kicked it again.
And again. And again. The vampire's head finally detached itself
from its body and flew across the cemetery until it hit a gravestone with
a wet thud. The vampire turned to dust. Spike was satisfied.
Time for a drink.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Spike entered the Bronze. Humans
everywhere. He could hear their blood rushing through their veins.
It sang to him. He was so hungry and yet the thought of drinking
from any one of them was nauseating.
"Guinness, mate."
"Spike you're not gonna cause any trouble
in here tonight. If you do, we're gonna ban you."
Spike took a sip of his drink and smiled
wryly. "I'll be good. I'm always good."
Ten drinks later Spike was in the alleyway
behind the Bronze. This was the alley where he'd seen Buffy fight.
Twack. The frat boy's fist connected with his jaw.
"What did you say about my girlfriend?"
Spike licked the blood from his lip and
smiled. "I said she was a whore. She offered to shag me you
know."
"Liar." Frat boy slammed his meaty
fist into Spike's eye socket. Spike felt his eye swelling already.
Another black eye . . .
Frat boy's fist connected again, splitting
his lip. And again, bruising his cheek.
Spike rushed him, fists flying. As
the chip activated, the pain was searing. Just what he wanted.
Spike lay in the alleyway, bleeding and
unconscious. Just what he wanted.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Spike?"
"Spike?"
A hand touched his shoulder. "Spike,
wake up."
"Buffy?" he murmured. "Luv?"
Willow's eyes filled with tears.
"No Spike. It's me and Dawn."
"Go away." His eyes shut in his swollen
and deformed face.
"No."
He raised himself up from the stone floor
and looked Willow in the eye menacingly. "You don't want to be here."
"Spike, you have to . . ."
Spike pushed Willow away, causing her to
fall in a misshapen heap. He clutched his head as the blinding pain
punished him.
Willow's eyes turned dark. "That's
enough you selfish bastard." Her spell sent Spike slamming into the
wall of his crypt.
"Willow, no!" Dawn went to Spike's
side. "Don't you see? That's what he wants." Gently she
grasped his hand. "Spike. Buffy told us to take care of each
other."
Spike could feel the sob well up in the
back of his throat. "Buffy also made me promise to protect you.
Look what a brilliant job I did of that."
Dawn smiled as the tears streamed down
her cheeks. "Well you're kind of sucking at it right now. I
haven't seen you for weeks. How can you protect me when you're not
even around?"
"Nibblet, I . . ."
Willow interrupted. "Spike, listen.
What happened was horrible. But remember what guilt did to Buffy?
She believed she'd killed Dawnie and she went all coma-girl on us.
We need you."
Spike's shoulders slumped. The silence
stretched on for many moments. When he finally responded, his voice
was a whisper. "Buffy made me feel like a man, but we all know what
I really am."
"What is that Spike?" Willow asked.
Spike heard her pulse increase as she waited
for his answer, saw the life rushing through the artery in her neck.
"A monster."
"Oh God." Dawn pulled Spike into
her arms. "No Spike. It's not true."
Spike completely dissolved into tears.
"Yes . . . yes it bloody well is." He looked at Willow. "I
was the one who introduced Dawn to Doc. And then he showed up and
I couldn't stop him. It's all my fault."
Willow sighed. "Dawn told me about
your little resurrection adventure. You might have been misguided,
but you were only trying to help."
"But that's the problem Will. I don't
have anything to guide me anymore. Buffy showed me what was right
and even when she was around I bollocksed it up. She was my bleeding
soul. Now she's gone . . ."
Dawn squeezed Spike's hand excitedly.
"But Spike, that's why we've come to see you. We think we've figured
out a way to bring her back, and we can't do it without you."
"Huh?"
END PART ONE