AN: another plot bunny and I'm so sorry there's no care for grammar or tenses.
All dialogue is said by Spike.
Set during Season 5 Episode 10 and before.
Also, I do not think this is all Spike is, but read the summary below
~He's never wanted the lesser deal and now this is what he thinks he's become~
He hates the vampire he's become as he sighs against the tree bark. He watches her boyfriend leave the house. This time he doesn't follow. He knows where the traitor is going. He stares up at her window.
He hates it, he hates her, he hates himself.
And then he's at the door, blond hair glowing in the moonlight as he pushes it open and glides silently to her room and wakes her up.
"Like I give a bloody damn," he finds himself spitting, forcing indifference and laughter into his voice. Thought behind his blinking eyelids, he sees her, every inch of her body.
And the look on her face when she sees later that night matches the ache in his chest where he thought he'd never feel his heart again.
"I just thought you should know."
And she walks. He stares after her.
He hates it all. Fuck the world. Inside, a fight is breaking out. And inside his heart is breaking in half. Inside she makes his heart break and mend again and again and he hates it.
He drinks alone at a bar and this time it doesn't matter which bar so long as the vodka keeps coming. It's vodka because beer doesn't do it.
Because he needs to feel fire in his veins that she doesn't make him feel because she makes him feel warm inside like a candle. Like the sun he can never feel on him again.
Because she doesn't want to make him feel fire in his veins because she doesn't know the fire he holds in his heart for her.
He loves her more than ever but the only thing that matters now is the drink in his hand as he sips and then chugs and guzzles until his vision starts to spot and is nose runs.
He still feels her boyfriend fake kill him, still feels the sharp burn in his chest where his feelings for her reside.
"You're not the long haul guy and you know it."
He spits at her boyfriend and then sits.
He yells at the mannequin and can have full conversations because he knows what he would say and he slams the wood with the chocolate box and he is yelling at him all over again. This all flashes through his head that pounds to the beat of the music.
Now he is cringing over his empty vodka and orders tequila and gin and scotch and bourbon and rum and whiskey but the bar tender says he's ordering him a cab.
"Get me my bloody drink."
And he stands and slams the bar tender's head down against the marble and mortals yell at him and he stops.
He hates it because he knows he is lesser and he knows he has the better deal, deep in his chest he knows he has the better deal.
And he hates it because he has never wanted the weaker deal more than he does now.
He drinks alone again.
Except this hurts more than Dru and any girl before.
In his head he remembers planning their wedding and his tongue running along hers and their bodies pressed together and the thick binders full of flowery things and ribbons and bobbins and the other rhymes.
He remembers not cherishing those moments under the spell and he remembers the first dream where he kissed her for real and she begged for him and the next where passion met love and they came together and sweaty cheeks and warm lips and breaths met and all of the world collides and stops when he thinks about this.
The walk to the train tracks is quiet and he wishes there were demons to crush under his thumb because he feels drunkenly infinite.
He sits there by the side, strength rippling through his free arm until he pries a railroad spike from the ground.
He holds it flat in his hand and then squeezes the end until it pushes through the flesh and he drops it.
He hates the vampire he's become with his hand closed around a cup filled with booze that sets his body on fire because she doesn't want to.
