Reflections and Decisions
A One-Shot Effort
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or Angel. Both series belong to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt,
and 20th Century Fox.
A/N: This is a one shot set after the seventh season of Buffy and the fifth season of
Angel. This is a letter from Spike reflecting on everything that's happened. It's a bit out of
character, but not much.
To Whom It May Concern:
I'm the bad boy. The one every bloody living or un-living creature on this Earth loves to.
hate. Look at Buffy. She loved me one day, hated me the next. Willow hates me, as do Xander,
Giles, and Angel. The only one I can seem to constantly get along with is Dawn, the Slayer's
little sis. Loved ones are of the past. Mom's dead, and the life I knew is no longer. It hurts my
heart, though I no longer have one, to write this. Nevertheless, write I bloody must. Being a
vampire with a bloody soul isn't as good as you would think, since after the, what, seventh end-
of-the-world-type-of-thing, Buffy got back together with soddin' soldier boy. I went to Africa
and got my soul, went through all sorts of grueling tests, and died to save the world. All for
Buffy. And what do I get in return? BLOODY LIES, THAT'S WHAT! Before I 'died,' she said
she loved me. If she loved me so much than why? WHY BLOODY SOLDIER BOY? I'm
honestly thinking about leaving. Yeah. Leaving. 'Course, last time I tried to do that the bloody
Powers That Be brought me back. For what? To suffer because the woman I love chose
someone else over me? Even after all that I did for her she LIED. Maybe she was lying all along,
I don't know. Whatever the case, I might just stick a stake through my dead, unbeating heart.
I long for the days when I could lay in bed and just listen to my heart beat. If I was
stressed, this would calm me down. I could sit and listen to the constant thump thump thump
of my heart. And I would reflect. About whatever stressing event had happened to me. Then,
that fateful day: I was in a bar, drinking gin out of a bottle, and this guy came up to me and
asked if I had a lady. I said no. At that time, my reputation was horrible. Mostly because of my
bloody awful poetry. No girl would want to court me, let alone marry me. Stifling a laugh, the
guy asked if I wanted to court a proper lady. Sure, I'd said. After inviting me to his dwelling,
he'd led me there. It was nice, for 18th century Rome. Inside, there was the raven-haired fair-
skinned lady, it was love at first sight. Then she offered me a world filled with love, fun, and
laughter, something hard to find in those days. I told her I would do anything for her. She
revealed her true, demonic game face. I still was fixed in my decision.
Then, an obscene force took over, and I drank her blood. That was how it all
happened. Then the four of us vampires, Darla, Drusilla, Angelus, and I roamed the world,
wreaking havoc on everything. Angel got his soul, Darla dusted at the hands of the former two
hundred years later. Everything changed then. I fell in love with Buffy and died for her.
I can't leave though. It would be weak. I've got to go away, though. Someplace
silent, peaceful, and quiet. If you're reading this, it means I'm gone. Don't worry or wonder. I
may have been staked, I may be in Africa. Maybe I'll hook up with Dru. Whatever the case, do
not grieve.
Spike
AKA William the Bloody
