One More Time
Disclaimer: Don't own anything more that damn bunny still hopping on my head.
Summary: Spike finds shelter.
Reviews: Yes, please. Response to the first effort on this little fic was awesome. Thank you! Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!
A/N: WayWard Childe, my partner and muse contributed a lot to this chapter with his suggestions and rewrites. Thanks!
Everyone: Don't forget to go read WayWard Childe's awesome fic 'Blood Knights In Gotham' over in the Buffy Crossovers. I think it's incredibly inspired.
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Spike raised his head, his sapphire eyes watering in the brightness of the light that was rapidly fading around him. Remaining still for long minutes, he blinked until the light fully dissipated. The full moon made it easy to see the devastated landscape surrounding him. His mind raced as he tried to process what he was seeing. Standing up to his full height, he turned slowly around to scan the area. The damage was as far as he could see.
"Hell." He repeated. That was the only explanation. He was in Hell. He tilted his head back and studied the sky, tracking the progress of the moon as it moved slowly across the starry expanse. There were several hours left before sunrise.
Rage filled his lean body. He could think of no good reason for why he was back. He'd given up everything to save the world and now he was back in it as if his efforts had been a waste. He kicked a piece of concrete sticking up out of the debris, dislodging it and sending it flying into the eerie gloom. Resignedly he began walking, knowing he had to get out of the open area before sunrise.
'They could have at least wiped my memory.' He thought bitterly as he trudged toward the cliffs he knew had several caves he could hide in for the day. He wondered what he was supposed to do for sustenance.
'Bloody gits. Hello. Vampire here. Needs blood.' He cast a hate-filled glare upwards as he mechanically walked along the road that led to the coast five miles away. He searched his pockets hoping that everything he'd had with him when he dusted had been returned with him. A sigh slipped out when he found a slightly battered pack of cigarettes and his cherished silver lighter. The influx of nicotine did little to settle his anger but gave him something to focus on while he walked. Further searching of the many pockets turned up a well-worn wallet that he'd never seen before. His vampiric vision allowed him to inspect the contents. A driver's license, three credit cards each bearing the same name as the license, – he wasn't going to worry about paying those bills – and a wad of cash in various denominations were revealed. He glared upwards again, attempting to convey that it wasn't enough compensation. He stuffed the wallet back in the pocket it had come from.
A sigh of near relief whispered out when he finally spotted the caves. He gazed around, once more wondering what he was supposed to feed on. As if in answer to the question a fawn wandered across his path. His soul rebelled for several seconds before his hunger overrode it and he leapt with preternatural speed to catch the young deer. He stopped well short of killing it, leaving it weakened but alive in the undergrowth. He listened and inhaled, checking for predators that could pose a danger to the deer. He'd rather kill it himself than to leave it helpless against another threat. Detecting no other living creatures around, he shrugged and entered a likely cave to hole up during the coming day.
The floor of the cave was sandy and dry, providing a relatively comfortable place to sleep the daylight hours away. Shrugging out of his duster, he folded it up for a makeshift pillow. Exhaustion swept over him as he laid down. 'Slept in worse places, I suppose.' He thought as he adjusted his duster turned pillow. 'But I shouldn't have to now.' He thought bitterly, his eyelids getting heavy and blinking sluggishly. 'Shouldn't be back, I earned my peace...' His words were spoken quietly in his own head just as his eyes closed and he dove into the darkness of sleep.
Sunset….
Age-old instincts woke the master vampire from his day-long sleep. He stood, stretched, shrugging his shoulders and popping his neck. A grimace crossed his handsome face as he began to brush sand from his clothing. He shook the duster free of the grainy particles and swirled it on. Standing next to the cave entrance, he tried to remember what town was closest to the ruined Hell Mouth.
With a mental coin-flip, he headed for the small town he vaguely recalled as being only thirty miles away. He just hoped there was a butcher that kept early hours so he could get some supplies before finding a convenient motel to hide out in until he could figure out what to do next.
It was a long lonely walk but finally a few lights twinkled in the distance. He trudged wearily along the road hoping the motel would be on the outskirts of the city limits. Another half hour of walking put him in the parking lot of a popular motel chain known for its inexpensive prices and hard mattresses. He gave a passing thought to going further into town to locate the butcher but the warning tingle of sunrise shivered through his body.
Spike stalked into the lobby and slammed his hand down on the night bell. A middle-aged man with a slight beer belly and wrinkled shirt wandered sleepily in from the back room. Irritated that his early morning no customer nap had been disturbed, the clerk glared at the blond leaning on the counter.
"Single, interior if you have it, ground floor if you don't." Spike requested flatly. "Need one with a refrigerator, if the rooms don't come with one I want you to find me one." The steady sapphire gaze told the human there would be no arguing with the demand.
"The refrigerator will cost you extra and I have one ground floor room left." The clerk shoved a form and a pen across the counter.
"I want weekly rates. I don't know how long I'm staying." Spike stated as he wrote, making up most of the information. To be spiteful, he put down Buffy's old home address.
Flipping the registration slip around, the clerk scowled. "Sunnydale doesn't have any addresses anymore. Whole town went down under an earthquake a year ago." He pushed the form back. "I need a current address."
"Is that what they called it?" Spike muttered, then he winced. "It's been a year?"
At the clerk's curious glance, Spike continued. "I don't have a more current address, been a bit…. dislocated since then." He pulled the wallet out and slid a credit card across, along with a fifty dollar bill. "It's not like I have anything to leave now is it?" He indicated his lack of luggage.
The man picked up the card warily. "Is this stolen?"
"Why don't you run it and see?" Spike suggested.
The human came back in seconds. "It's good. Now, Mr…." Spike interrupted him.
"I go by Spike. What's your name?" The vampire leaned forward just a little.
"I'm Chuck." The clerk gulped.
"Now then, Chuck. I have a few requirements." Spike smiled at the human's sudden nervousness. "I sleep during the day so I don't want any maid service, ever. I will let you know when I need clean sheets and the maid can just leave the clean towels on the floor on a tray outside my door. I'll need to know where the nearest bar is, the hours it keeps and the closest butcher shop along with their business hours as well. Just remember all that and I'm sure we'll get along just fine.
Chuck was no fool. He'd seen some of the more unusual types coming from Sunnydale the year before. There had been more than one customer with similar requirements and he'd felt fortunate that none of them had decided he would make a tasty snack. This man gave off a different vibe than the others had, he seemed more… human, less likely to attack. Running a motel so close to Sunnydale, he was used to the rumors that there was more than meets the eye when it came to things that went bump in the night. He had always hesitated to put a name to it but over time he'd come to accept that his motel had a reputation of being 'demon friendly'. He just never admitted aloud that such things existed, which was probably in his best interest anyway. He reached into a drawer for a list of businesses that had been drawn up for just such customers.
"You should be able to find what you need at these places." He said.
Spike's scarred eyebrow rose in surprise as he scanned the list. "Well, well." He murmured. "Dealt with the more… unusual type of clientele then, have you?"
"On occasion." Chuck admitted. "Not so much recently as I did in the past year. Business kinda turned more towards the run of the mill tourist types. For a while before that though, it was almost like an exodus. What with so many people leaving Sunnydale. Did they know the earthquake was coming or was it something else?"
Spike smirked slightly. "Something else would just about describe it." He glanced out the window at the pinkening sky. "Time to turn in, where's my room located?" He listened to the directions and nodded, pocketing his credit card and the list as he left.
He noted with approval that the room had a southern exposure, ensuring that the sun would not shine directly onto the door or the window. He draped the duster across a chair. He dropped the key on top of the dresser and, from habit, hit the power switch on the television. He adjusted the volume and turned it to a news channel. He left it to drone on while he went into the small bathroom to start the shower. He frowned when he realized he'd have to wear the same clothes again. With a sigh, he decided a shopping trip was definitely in order.
The water was scalding on his back, easing the aches and pains from all the walking he'd had to do. Now that he'd stopped, the reality of his situation was sinking in. Frustrated anger rose up, choking him in its intensity. He leaned against the shower wall letting the warmth wash over him as the steam rose to fog the small room. A voice echoed through his thoughts.
"The world needs you. One more time."
Denial slammed through him as his fist pounded on the wall. He was done damn it! Exhaustion flowed through his lean body. He washed slowly as he got rid of the grimy, sandy feel of the cave. His hand glided the soapy washcloth over his taunt and tired muscles. The solid feeling of his body was a sensation he'd missed. His hand slid lower and he quickly began a search for empty pleasure; some resemblance of the warm peaceful forever that was now an eternity out of his grasp. He bit his lip as the fast release caused a familiar but long denied warm buzz to travel through his body; only to have it followed by self loathing emptiness. Spike got out of the shower quickly.
Drying off as he walked back into the bedroom. He dropped the towel on the floor and fell onto the bed, pulling a pillow over his head to dull the sound of those words. 'One more time.' Shaking his head beneath the pillow and mumbling his reply to those awful bloody words, "Sod you. Sod you and the rest of the world." The tears were close, but the hatred was closer.