The Power Of Poetry.
Spoilers- S7 Lessons.
Disclaimer- just borrowing from Joss, all will be returned with minimal scaring. Poem is by Emily Dickinson.
Note- the piece of poetry that Spike recites is taken from cut lines from Beneath You.
Note2- Many thanks go to GreyMatter, who so kindly read over this and made a few suggestions.
xxx
Dawn Summers sat in her English class and sighed. She was bored. Again. She guessed that when a person faced all the horrors she had and faced death on several occasions it made the death-obsessed poetry of Emily Dickinson seem a little silly.
That's not to say Dawn didn't like it. She did on an aesthetical level. The woman knew how to string words together.
"'For I have but the power to kill,
Without the power to die-'
Now what do we think Emily Dickinson means here? Anyone?"
'Well,' Dawn thought, 'it sounds like a vampire. Not a fledging, cause those die really easily. But an old one, like Angel or… Spike.'
Dawn sighed. Spike wasn't really someone she wanted to be thinking about right now. On one hand, he was the vampire that told her stories, helped her get the ingredients for the spell to resurrect her mother, protected her from Glory and was there for her after Buffy died. But on the other hand, he was also the vampire that tried to rape her sister.
There was no two ways about it. Spike, after all, was a vampire. He was a soulless monster. Not that that excused what he did, or almost did.
But once upon a time he had been her friend.
Dawn shook her head. This was not the place for this debate. Her English teacher was one of the few that had been nice to her. It seemed that Buffy's reputation had preceded her and most of her teachers were watching Dawn like they expected her to break out into bursts of violence at any moment.
Dawn cleared her throat and turned her focus back to the teacher.
"And so-"
That was as far as he got before the door burst open and a large, hairy thing barged into the room.
The teacher paled and backed against the wall. He wasn't paid enough to deal with this. Students screamed and scrambled out of their seats, pushing their way to the back of the room.
Dawn remained in her seat. "Oh, crap."
The thing turned it's beady eyes to her. "Key!" It hissed between needlepoint teeth.
"Oh double crap." Dawn's hand snuck into her bag and gripped the stake that she had taken to storing there. She slid out of her chair and faced the thing, swallowing convulsively. Dawn gripped the stake tighter, splinters digging into her palm. She looked down at it quickly. Maybe she should see Xander about getting it sanded down, splinters can cause an infection, you know.
Arching it's back the thing roared and took a bounding step towards her.
Dawn moved her foot back, slipping into a fighting stance. She was desperately trying to remember everything Buffy had taught her.
Before the thing could get too close, close enough to loom over her, a platinum blonde figure tackled it away from her.
Dawn blinked. "Spike?"
Spike stumbled to his feet, seemingly unaware of the smoke that was billowing off him- it being a sunny day and Sunnydale High having invested in the extra large windows. Spike ran a shaky hand across his nose, the movement opening his black button down shirt to reveal a torso littered with gouges and scratches. Particularly over his heart. Frowning, Spike muttered to himself and stomped over to the thing. He hauled it up and punched it. Again, and again, until it was bleeding.
Spike's arm caught on fire, finally forcing him to recognize his surroundings. For a moment he met Dawn's eyes.
"Dawnie."
But then the pain was too much. With a roar Spike grabbed the thing and threw it through the open door, sending it crashing into a row of lockers. Spike followed, the hallways dark enough to protect him. Without paying much attention he smothered the fire.
Once Dawn regained feeling in her limbs she hurried after them. One brave soul had crept after her and slammed the door shut behind her. Dawn turned and gulped as she heard the lock click.
"Cowards," she murmured. "Think they'd never seen a demon before."
The thing struggled to it's feet, blood dripping down it's face and onto the floor. "Need… the… key. Give… it… to… me."
Spike smirked. "Can't do that, mate." The smirk slipped and something akin to desperation entered his eyes. "Have to protect the little sister. Have to keep her safe. I promised. Promised the girl." Spike's head moved jerkily. "Can't get hurt this time. I promised. She'll be angry."
The thing grunted. "Then… I… take."
"Over my prone corpse."
The fight was over before it could begin. Before the thing could blink, Spike was hovering over it and had placed a hand on either side of it's head, wrenching it hard to the side. The body dropped to the ground.
Spike looked up and met Dawn's steely gaze. He looked away; shoulders slumped.
"Why did you do it?"
"I don't like seeing you hurt."
"That's not what I meant." Dawn crossed her arms defiantly. "I thought you loved her."
"Did, do, can't help but not." Tears filled his eyes and he pawed at his open shirt. "It burns, it hurts. Why didn't he tell me?"
Spike started to scratch at his skin. "The screams. I can still hear them. And they talk. Always talk. Whisper bad things in my ear. But I won't… I won't. CAN'T!"
He stumbled over to the wall and slid down. With tear-filled eyes he looked up at her. "I'm a monster. Done bad things." He broke off with a sob. "It hurts. It hurts."
Spike started to rock backwards and forwards, so wrapped up in his own pain that he was oblivious to his surrounds
Dawn sighed, conflicted. He had just saved her life, again. If he was hurt she should try to do something, right?
Dawn kneeled in front of him and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. His head snapped up.
"Where are you hurt?" Dawn asked this gently, right now he didn't seem like a monster, he was more like a frightened child crying for his mother in the dark of the night.
Spike pushed his shirt aside and placed a hand over his still heart. "Hurts."
Dawn pulled his hand away and gasped at the deep scratches that criss-crossed the skin. "Spike, what did this to you?"
"Vampire. William." His voice turned singsong. "William the bloody awful poet/ Skipping down the lane/ Good boy, bad boy/ All the sodding same." His voice broke into another sob.
Horror dawned on her face. "Spike, did you do this to yourself?"
Spike nodded quickly, shamefully. "Can't stop it from hurting. Angel never said. Not about the pain. Have to get it out. Make it better. Can't ache if it's not there." Spike hit his head against the wall. "No, no, no, no, no. Need it. Got it for her. For the girl. And now… And now…"
"Wait. What?" Suddenly Dawn's eyes widened. She grasped Spike's chin and tilted it up. She searched his blue, pain-filled eyes. Spike tried to jerk away but her fingers tightened painfully.
"Oh my god. Spike. You have a soul."
He sobbed.
"You can feel everything." Dawn paused. "Who did this to you? Was it Willow?"
Spike shook his head. "Demon in Africa. I went. There was a cave. Three trials. Then pain."
Spike's hand found hers and brought it up between them. It was only then that she realized she still held the stake.
"End it. End it, please."
Dawn stumbled back. "I can't. Don't ask me to do that."
"Please, Niblet, please. It hurts. I can't stand it."
The bell rang. Dawn jumped.
A multitude of doors opened and students flooded the hall. Several people distractedly stepped over the body of the thing that tried to kill Dawn.
"The props department for the school play is getting better. This thing almost looks life-like."
"I don't know. The fur looks so fake."
Panic seized Dawn and she pushed her way into the crowd, trying to get to Spike through the sea of students. It was difficult, the crowd was carrying her away from him, but with Summers determination she continued pushing her way through.
"Spike! Spike!"
With a final push and a glare she reached the opposite wall. But she was too late.
Spike had disappeared.
A tear slid down Dawn's face.
A whisper was barely heard over the excited shouts. "Spike?"
xxx
End
