Prologue - The Fall
Disclaimer/Author's Note: None of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters or the Angel characters belong to me, the Order of Taraka Guild itself belongs like the rest to Joss Whendon; I like soooo many fanfic authors before are borrowing them for my own evil diabolical use *WEG*, though I do have something far better in mind then ole Jossy-boy, who imho has gone toooo far on the Spike bashing, and not far enough on the Willow bashing. Now I realize that there are Willow-fans out there and all, but I just do not like the whole magic addicted Willow that is there now. Anyways on with the fic, ohh just so you all know, I have Angel as Spike's sire, not Dru.
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He just couldn't take it anymore, not the heartache, the grief, the sadness, the betrayal, the loneliness, and certainty not the rejection. Spike just could not take another rejection; he was no one's whipping boy, no one's. Not Angelus's, not Darla's, no one's! *Not anymore, not after I spent years makin' sure that would never 'appen again* He thought to himself as he stood there underneath the window and watched as Buffy Summers; the person who had made him feel human, the person who had once treated him like a man once shut him out of her life again.
First it had been Cecily, who had looked down on him because of his social stature and because of his shy, stuttering nature. Then it had been Drusilla who had left both because he'd gone too soft to be the demon she had wanted, and because of the person who he now was in love with; the person who thought he was too much of a demon for her likes.
Above all it made Spike angry, angry and hurt, a pain coursing through him worse then the torture he'd received from Glory, and almost worse then the pain of losing Buffy. It galled him to think how women could just put him down, how they could just deem him ... beneath them, how they could make him feel less then a person.
"No more" he hissed to himself, "no more 'eartache, no more bleedin' judgments 'bout 'ow I feel an' 'ow wrong it is" he said to himself as he turned and left before the sun could rise and turn him to nothing more then a pile of ash, unwanted and unloved by most everyone, well save for Dawn, and three others ... But those others he had to remind himself, were not here, nor would he probably see or talk to them again, unless it was phone or computer.
Oddly enough it wasn't just the rejection that hurt Spike, it was the ache, the pain he felt, the knowledge that he would always be alone, never good enough for anyone, never able to be truly evil as his sire Angelus had been, never able to be totally with Buffy and her friends, and never able to be with his family, both his undead and real family.
And so Spike cried, tears falling, tears breaking the ground as he, the once proud and haughty vampire focused on the pain of never fitting in for very long; of never being wanted. Everywhere he looked he saw happy families, lovers, vampire gangs feeding, demons prowling yet this time he did nothing to stop them, did nothing to intervene. His hatred for the race that had made him feel like the wanker that he was growing by leaps and bounds.
Dimly the platinum blonde vampire recalled entering his crypt just as the sun broke, he looked all around him then angrily wiped the blood-tears from his face as he descended the ladder to the cavern below. He smiled bitterly as he looked at the wine rack to his left, the various bottles that littered the cavern, the pool table that Harris had helped him build (after Dawn had insisted that Spike have something to do aside from watching the telly), the television set upstairs next to his bed, the two refrigerators that Spike had stolen, the computer which he had also lifted from the same technology and appliance store, and finally the four desk tables that surrounded the computer, the desk it was on, and the chair in front of it.
He smiled a little at the thought of Dawn caring enough to help him do a bit of shopping for his crypt and for nagging Xander into building that pool table, Dawn if anything was the only friend he had here, now that Joyce was gone, and who knew how long that would last; especially given the way Buffy had shut him out. Idly he once again wondered if staking himself or going out to see the sunlight for the last time was the best thing, Dawn would be the only here that would miss him, especially now that Buffy had decided to hide from how she felt again.
"It'd kill Dawn" he mused sadly, knowing that if anything Dawn deserved better then what fate, God, the powers or whomever the wanker or chit was that ran the whole order, and despite the rest of it, Spike had always thought that it wasn't the powers or fate that did run the show.
If it was God who was running the show, Spike had to wonder what the bloke's ultimate plan was regarding himself, Buffy, Dawn, Angel, Dru and the rest. "An' the nibblet doesn't deserve anymore pain" he said as he switched on the cd player that Dawn had helped him steal and the Sex Pistols Song "Anarchy in the UK" began to play, the sound blaring through the speakers while Spike scrolled down the list, turned down the volume a bit, and then put in the song "I'm not your Steppin' Stone"
"Yea', tha's 'ow I am right 'bout now" he muttered darkly as he withdrew a cigarette, then his silver lighter and finally lite up. "Wish the feelin' could just up an' go away" he said while getting a bottle of Jack Daniel's out and then taking a long stiff drink from the bottle, the contents burning a hole down his dead gullet. "An' all 'cause I'm a slave to some stupid emotions which keep me comin' back for more punishment!" he hissed angrily as he sat down, the tears streaming down his face as he fell into a bitter and angst-filled sleep, one in which he was reminded that the dream he had with Buffy would never come true, no matter how many times he tried to tell her.
***************
She slept alone, still tossing and turning as the images of her night with Spike flooded her mind, of how hurt he had seemed when she had made her comments, only to have them thrown back in her face by the very same person she had been stupid enough to sleep with.
"Yeah that's me, a big world of stupidity," Buffy said as she woke up briefly and looked outside to see Spike walking away from her house, his walk and head held down, as if in defeat and sadness. "Ohh like that's going to make me feel sorry for him!" she snorted as she went back to bed. *He'd be doing me a favor if he staked himself* she thought to herself and tried to get back to sleep, angry at Spike and herself for making her feel the way she felt about him.
"Why couldn't he just leave or move on?" she asked herself inwardly, looking wildly at the garlic and crosses that surrounded her room, and the one in her hands. Despite all her planning, both items didn't offer her much in the way of comfort.
Nor did the words she'd spoken, all it did was make her feel like she had made a mistake, and that was something Buffy was tired of doing. "And plus he doesn't love me, no matter what he says!" she said to herself, trying to get her mind off Spike, and the accident that had been Willow's fault. "How could I have been sooo stupid and blind?" she asked herself as she thought back and tried to look for signs that Willow had started becoming addicted to magic.
Other then Spike telling her about the warlock known as Rack and her finding Dawn and Willow injured and about to be killed by an unknown demon there was a huge blank on that part. There was also the detail that Willow's lover Tara had apparently left because of how out of control Willow had become, and that Willow had convinced Xander, Anya, and Tara to use dark magics to tear Buffy out of heaven itself, and back into her dead body.
Inwardly she shuddered at the thought of being forced to tear herself out of her own grave, fearing that she had been turned into a vampire, fearing that she would be trapped in her own coffin. Where had she and her friends gone wrong? She thought to herself, *when did we fall? Where did we go wrong? * She pondered as she tossed again in her sleep.
As if in a whisper the answer came ... Glory, Glorificus, the beast, she who could not be named. The hellgoddess had almost killed her sister and all of her friends, Tara had been brainsucked, Spike had been tortured, Xander and the others had been forced to see her fall apart when Glory had taken control of the body she and Ben had been sharing and then had kidnapped Dawn.
Even after she had snapped out of it, things had gone bad, first her friends had to face Glory's minions; Spike had been knocked to the ground while trying to save Dawn, Dawn had been slashed by a demon named Doc and then after Buffy had killed Doc, the portal had opened ... and she had jumped in order to save the world.
Spike ... she tried to rid herself of the thoughts of the bleached blond vampire but to no avail, he was there inside her thoughts and ... her feelings. And she, Buffy hated it, she hated how she could have feelings of need, want and ... one she didn't want to think about involving William the Bloody in anyway.
"I am soo not falling for him," she said as she went to sleep, trying to banish her traitorous thoughts altogether...
**************
Spike looked at the bottle before him then threw it into a wall, "nothin' ever bloody well goes right in this soddin' excuse for a town" he snarled angrily before tears began to fall from his eyes again, he hated what Buffy had done to him, and he hated himself for feeling the way he did.
It was almost as if he was cursed to be rejected by women for his entire existence, and that thought did not sit well with William the Bloody, nor did the way the Slayer had rejected him, and above all it didn't sit well with him that he knew that Angelus if he did the same things would have been forgiven no matter what.
"Time I stop bein' a wanker an' leave this bloody town an' all the 'icks that live 'ere," he said to himself as sleep claimed his weary bones, and his thoughts turned to Buffy once more, and tears came once again to the once proud vampire's eyes...
Disclaimer/Author's Note: None of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters or the Angel characters belong to me, the Order of Taraka Guild itself belongs like the rest to Joss Whendon; I like soooo many fanfic authors before are borrowing them for my own evil diabolical use *WEG*, though I do have something far better in mind then ole Jossy-boy, who imho has gone toooo far on the Spike bashing, and not far enough on the Willow bashing. Now I realize that there are Willow-fans out there and all, but I just do not like the whole magic addicted Willow that is there now. Anyways on with the fic, ohh just so you all know, I have Angel as Spike's sire, not Dru.
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He just couldn't take it anymore, not the heartache, the grief, the sadness, the betrayal, the loneliness, and certainty not the rejection. Spike just could not take another rejection; he was no one's whipping boy, no one's. Not Angelus's, not Darla's, no one's! *Not anymore, not after I spent years makin' sure that would never 'appen again* He thought to himself as he stood there underneath the window and watched as Buffy Summers; the person who had made him feel human, the person who had once treated him like a man once shut him out of her life again.
First it had been Cecily, who had looked down on him because of his social stature and because of his shy, stuttering nature. Then it had been Drusilla who had left both because he'd gone too soft to be the demon she had wanted, and because of the person who he now was in love with; the person who thought he was too much of a demon for her likes.
Above all it made Spike angry, angry and hurt, a pain coursing through him worse then the torture he'd received from Glory, and almost worse then the pain of losing Buffy. It galled him to think how women could just put him down, how they could just deem him ... beneath them, how they could make him feel less then a person.
"No more" he hissed to himself, "no more 'eartache, no more bleedin' judgments 'bout 'ow I feel an' 'ow wrong it is" he said to himself as he turned and left before the sun could rise and turn him to nothing more then a pile of ash, unwanted and unloved by most everyone, well save for Dawn, and three others ... But those others he had to remind himself, were not here, nor would he probably see or talk to them again, unless it was phone or computer.
Oddly enough it wasn't just the rejection that hurt Spike, it was the ache, the pain he felt, the knowledge that he would always be alone, never good enough for anyone, never able to be truly evil as his sire Angelus had been, never able to be totally with Buffy and her friends, and never able to be with his family, both his undead and real family.
And so Spike cried, tears falling, tears breaking the ground as he, the once proud and haughty vampire focused on the pain of never fitting in for very long; of never being wanted. Everywhere he looked he saw happy families, lovers, vampire gangs feeding, demons prowling yet this time he did nothing to stop them, did nothing to intervene. His hatred for the race that had made him feel like the wanker that he was growing by leaps and bounds.
Dimly the platinum blonde vampire recalled entering his crypt just as the sun broke, he looked all around him then angrily wiped the blood-tears from his face as he descended the ladder to the cavern below. He smiled bitterly as he looked at the wine rack to his left, the various bottles that littered the cavern, the pool table that Harris had helped him build (after Dawn had insisted that Spike have something to do aside from watching the telly), the television set upstairs next to his bed, the two refrigerators that Spike had stolen, the computer which he had also lifted from the same technology and appliance store, and finally the four desk tables that surrounded the computer, the desk it was on, and the chair in front of it.
He smiled a little at the thought of Dawn caring enough to help him do a bit of shopping for his crypt and for nagging Xander into building that pool table, Dawn if anything was the only friend he had here, now that Joyce was gone, and who knew how long that would last; especially given the way Buffy had shut him out. Idly he once again wondered if staking himself or going out to see the sunlight for the last time was the best thing, Dawn would be the only here that would miss him, especially now that Buffy had decided to hide from how she felt again.
"It'd kill Dawn" he mused sadly, knowing that if anything Dawn deserved better then what fate, God, the powers or whomever the wanker or chit was that ran the whole order, and despite the rest of it, Spike had always thought that it wasn't the powers or fate that did run the show.
If it was God who was running the show, Spike had to wonder what the bloke's ultimate plan was regarding himself, Buffy, Dawn, Angel, Dru and the rest. "An' the nibblet doesn't deserve anymore pain" he said as he switched on the cd player that Dawn had helped him steal and the Sex Pistols Song "Anarchy in the UK" began to play, the sound blaring through the speakers while Spike scrolled down the list, turned down the volume a bit, and then put in the song "I'm not your Steppin' Stone"
"Yea', tha's 'ow I am right 'bout now" he muttered darkly as he withdrew a cigarette, then his silver lighter and finally lite up. "Wish the feelin' could just up an' go away" he said while getting a bottle of Jack Daniel's out and then taking a long stiff drink from the bottle, the contents burning a hole down his dead gullet. "An' all 'cause I'm a slave to some stupid emotions which keep me comin' back for more punishment!" he hissed angrily as he sat down, the tears streaming down his face as he fell into a bitter and angst-filled sleep, one in which he was reminded that the dream he had with Buffy would never come true, no matter how many times he tried to tell her.
***************
She slept alone, still tossing and turning as the images of her night with Spike flooded her mind, of how hurt he had seemed when she had made her comments, only to have them thrown back in her face by the very same person she had been stupid enough to sleep with.
"Yeah that's me, a big world of stupidity," Buffy said as she woke up briefly and looked outside to see Spike walking away from her house, his walk and head held down, as if in defeat and sadness. "Ohh like that's going to make me feel sorry for him!" she snorted as she went back to bed. *He'd be doing me a favor if he staked himself* she thought to herself and tried to get back to sleep, angry at Spike and herself for making her feel the way she felt about him.
"Why couldn't he just leave or move on?" she asked herself inwardly, looking wildly at the garlic and crosses that surrounded her room, and the one in her hands. Despite all her planning, both items didn't offer her much in the way of comfort.
Nor did the words she'd spoken, all it did was make her feel like she had made a mistake, and that was something Buffy was tired of doing. "And plus he doesn't love me, no matter what he says!" she said to herself, trying to get her mind off Spike, and the accident that had been Willow's fault. "How could I have been sooo stupid and blind?" she asked herself as she thought back and tried to look for signs that Willow had started becoming addicted to magic.
Other then Spike telling her about the warlock known as Rack and her finding Dawn and Willow injured and about to be killed by an unknown demon there was a huge blank on that part. There was also the detail that Willow's lover Tara had apparently left because of how out of control Willow had become, and that Willow had convinced Xander, Anya, and Tara to use dark magics to tear Buffy out of heaven itself, and back into her dead body.
Inwardly she shuddered at the thought of being forced to tear herself out of her own grave, fearing that she had been turned into a vampire, fearing that she would be trapped in her own coffin. Where had she and her friends gone wrong? She thought to herself, *when did we fall? Where did we go wrong? * She pondered as she tossed again in her sleep.
As if in a whisper the answer came ... Glory, Glorificus, the beast, she who could not be named. The hellgoddess had almost killed her sister and all of her friends, Tara had been brainsucked, Spike had been tortured, Xander and the others had been forced to see her fall apart when Glory had taken control of the body she and Ben had been sharing and then had kidnapped Dawn.
Even after she had snapped out of it, things had gone bad, first her friends had to face Glory's minions; Spike had been knocked to the ground while trying to save Dawn, Dawn had been slashed by a demon named Doc and then after Buffy had killed Doc, the portal had opened ... and she had jumped in order to save the world.
Spike ... she tried to rid herself of the thoughts of the bleached blond vampire but to no avail, he was there inside her thoughts and ... her feelings. And she, Buffy hated it, she hated how she could have feelings of need, want and ... one she didn't want to think about involving William the Bloody in anyway.
"I am soo not falling for him," she said as she went to sleep, trying to banish her traitorous thoughts altogether...
**************
Spike looked at the bottle before him then threw it into a wall, "nothin' ever bloody well goes right in this soddin' excuse for a town" he snarled angrily before tears began to fall from his eyes again, he hated what Buffy had done to him, and he hated himself for feeling the way he did.
It was almost as if he was cursed to be rejected by women for his entire existence, and that thought did not sit well with William the Bloody, nor did the way the Slayer had rejected him, and above all it didn't sit well with him that he knew that Angelus if he did the same things would have been forgiven no matter what.
"Time I stop bein' a wanker an' leave this bloody town an' all the 'icks that live 'ere," he said to himself as sleep claimed his weary bones, and his thoughts turned to Buffy once more, and tears came once again to the once proud vampire's eyes...