TITLE: Tenacious of Life

AUTHOR: Erykah Miszti

EMAIL: erykah@sweet-poison.net

WEBSITE: http://www.sweet-poison.net/

SUMMARY: A bit of a writing experiment. A 'what if' kind of a tale concerning Spike. What if what we know is true but only the smallest part of the story?

SPOILERS: Up to Season five.. sort of Alternative universe and yet somehow not. *frown*

RATING: R

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to Joss. I just get bored sometimes and need to play with other people's toys.

~~~~~

The people are fading away,

As I slip into colours then ten shades of grey,

If I don't last this one tell them when I've gone,

That playing with you was incredible fun.

'Ten Shades of Grey' by Terrorvision

~~~~~

London, 1880

He had to make her understand the truth he couldn't tell her.

"I know I'm a bad poet but I'm a good man and all I ask is that... that you try to see me.."

But she couldn't see. All she saw was the surface.. just like they all did. Just like they were all supposed to. Knowing that was the truth didn't stop his heart from breaking. His disguise was too good for her to see past.

"I do see you. That's the problem. You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me. "

William watched helplessly as Cecily got up and left. He was desperate to go after her and tell her the truth.. she'd want him if she knew the truth...

"Will..?" A soft, familiar voice came from behind him and William hastily blinked the tears out of his eyes.

"What is it, Michael?" His voice cracked with unshed tears and he coughed to cover his embarrassment, then turned to face his little brother.

The younger man's face was serious, pained and bleak. Just two years his junior, the similarity between the two men was marked.. the unruly hair (darker in the case of the younger brother), the slim build, the prominent cheekbones.. but the eyes made the difference between them. Endless, open blue for the eldest but deep, dark chocolate for the youngest.

"Your presence is required." Michael stated flatly.

"Right now?" William demanded. "This is not the best.."

"The Council's already met and they've agreed your plan." Michael told him. "They want it done tonight."

William paled and looked towards where Cecily stood on the other side of the room.

"Tonight.." He whispered desperately giving his pain full reign for a moment, then his face hardened bitterly. "Tonight's just fine."

#####

"There they are."

Michael told him softly from the shadows on the other side of the darkened alleyway. He pointed off in the direction of three elegantly dressed people lingering on the steps of a house illuminated in the murky glow of the gaslights.

William peered around the edge of the wall at the people. His face was still set into the hard and resolved mask he'd settled upon earlier in the evening. This was it. He began to move out of the alleyway but his brother placed a strong hand on his shoulder suddenly and stopped him.

"Are really you sure you want to do this, Will?" Michael's voice was rough and pained. Tears sparkled in his eyes. "It's not too late to not do this!"

William smiled and placed a reassuring hand onto his brother's shoulder, looking down into his open and honest face.

"I love you, little brother.. I am doing the right thing." He told him steadily, more steadily than he really felt.

"But Will.." He blurted.

"More people will die if I don't." William cut in firmly.

"There's no guarantee that they wont just kill you outright!" The younger man was letting his feelings get the better of him and that wouldn't do at all.

"Then someone else will have to take my place and try again." He stated calmly. "We're all just tools, Michael. A secret force against the darkness.."

"We're supposed to Watch!" Michael blurted. "Not get involved! The Slayer.."

"The Slayer.." William interjected firmly. ".. is dead, Michael. Dead and buried and quite incredibly dead. Until they find the next Slayer we are at the mercy of Them! And everyday they take a step closer to destroying us.." His fear was evident but so was his resolve.

They stared at each other for a long, tense moment before Michael turned away and hung his head.

"I don't see why it has to be you!" He complained.

"Because I'm the only one with nothing to lose." William stated softly.

"You have us, Will! We need you!" He cried.

"No Michael." He smiled sadly. "You're the one needed here now. This is my chance to make a difference, to be something.. instead of that fool I've played for so long that I don't know where he ends and I begin anymore."

"I wish they could know how wonderful you really are, Will.. the things you've done.. the sacrifice you're making."

"They never can." He swallowed hard and then snorted bitterly. "Let William Travers die unloved and unremembered." He pulled the sheets with his poems written on out of his pocket and glared at them. "Who's going to care about there being one less bloody awful poet in this world?!"

He scrunched up the poems viciously and looked back at his brother.

"Is everything prepared?" He asked.

"Yes." Michael replied, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. "Miss Melody has the spell all ready for when it's needed."

"Good." He nodded then took his brother's shoulders in his hands and looked into his eyes squarely. "If it doesn't work.. if.." He swallowed hard. "If I don't get my soul back.. then you know what you'll have to do.."

Michael licked his lips and nodded firmly, blinking back tears.

"No pity, Michael." He stated. "You wont be able to give an inch. You wont be fighting me.. not killing me... without a soul, it will be just the thing that killed me."

Michael nodded more vigorously, understanding but not liking. William smiled grimly and let go.

"And, if it does work, then we'll have the information and the means we need to do good.. it will all be worth it.. and there's always.."

"I know, the prophecies of Aberjian." Michael interjected. "The vampire with a soul.. do you really believe in that, Will?"

"No. It's a load of bloody nonsense."

William drew a phial of liquid from inside his coat and dabbed the fake moisture at his eyes, then he thought of Cecily's rejection and real tears came as well. She was all he'd ever really wanted. All the reward he'd asked for. She was the one beautiful, irridescent, perfect thing in the world of monsters and demons that he'd been born into. He'd never had a choice except fighting for the sake of a world that couldn't care less about him. Lying to hide it's existence. Born into a secret he could not reveal and could not turn away from. Unimportant in the end though. Just another one of the Watchers. But he was going to be important, even if Cecily would never know about it. He had nothing left to lose. He was beneath her but he would not always be. This would make him enough. One day she would get to see the real him which had lurked beneath the mask of necessity.

"How do I look..?" He asked Michael, having suitably wetted up his eyes and messed up his appearance. "Do I look like a good meal for a vampire?"

Michael laughed involuntarily. "They'd be foolish if they didn't want to eat you, brother."

"Good." He set his expression and faced the end of the alleyway again. The vampires hadn't moved. They were arguing amongst themselves. "Angelus and Darla." William spat out the names in disgust.

"Drusilla's the weak spot." Michael reminded him. "You want to get her attention if you want to get into the group."

The brothers exchanged a look, which out of the blue became a quick and forceful hug. William pulled back determinedly and took a deep breath before running out into the street, crying, clutching his tattered pages of poetry and tearing them up as he went.

Michael watched as William ran directly into the path of the vampires.

"Watch where you're going!" He heard his brother bark as he 'accidentally' dropped his papers. He lingered long enough picking them up for the unholy trio to take note of him and then continued on his way. The mad vampire Drusilla followed him off into the night.

"My god!" Michael whispered in horror.

#####

China, 1900

Two men meet in a shadow-dappled alleyway behind an intricately wrought building. Somewhere nearby water flows. Further out, there is screaming and fire streaking the sky into patterns of red and orange.

"The Slayer's dead." Says one in a tone that could tired or just bored.

"Good job." Replies the other enthuisastically.

"That's the last job I do for you, Travers. It's over now."

"Don't be like that, Will." The man absents fingers the scarred flesh of his jawline. "It was necessary."

"Spike."

The first 'man' walks away.

"You're still my brother, William.." The second man calls out.

But the man continues to walk away without saying another word.

"William..!"

#####

TBC...