Dear John's -- part 3 of The Island of Galleno (Only a man who has felt ultimate despair is capable of feeling ultimate bliss.)
by Isabelle
Rating: R (for cursing, mild nudity, adult situations and violence)
Disclaimers: BTVS belong to Joss Whedon, ME, and UPN they are being used for entertainment, I don't own them. The Count of Monte Cristo belongs to Alexandre Dumas--Spike's journey was taken from the idea of the book and is used in the skeleton of the Series. Lyrics belong to the Cranberries, Now That You're Gone.
Summary: The moment that Spike finally has Buffy he is vamp-napped by Riley and a new officer, Jack Marshall and sent to the Island of Galleno off the Moroccan coast where allthe leftovers of the Initiative are being placed. Buffy frantically looks for Spike but gets news that he was 'accidentally killed' by Jack, who decides to make Sunnydale his residence. The whole thing is Spike trying to get back to Sunnydale and Buffy thinking he's dead. It's filled with exotic places, tons of Original Characters, mysticism, enchantment, magic and love. It takes him years to find out who he is before he can find the one he loves.
Spoilers: Set after Normal Again, Season 6
Feedback: bih80reviews@yahoo.com
Archiving: Carnal Sins, DeathMarkedLove, and Only Time--all others please ask.
A/N: I need adventure so here it is. This is an angsty story. But like Joss said once, trust the story not the storyteller. This is B/S fiction, I write nor read any other. I decided on the no sex rule since we have plenty of Smut to cover the sex part *g*. Special thanks to Heller for the Beta.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hold on to love, that is what I do
Now that I've found you
And from above, everything's stinking
They're not around you
And in the night I could be helpless
I could be lonely slipping without you
Spike smiled at the demon who was re-counting the tale of his capture and they all laughed and remembered--killing the army soldiers was a constant plague in their minds.
The fire was warm in the night, the ale was strong and the blood was human--he didn't ask from were they got it from.
Varro turned to Spike and nodded. "So... William the Bloody... never though they'd catch you."
Spike burped and nodded. "Yeah... me neither." He looked around at the company of men, demons and vampires living harmoniously. "No one eats anyone?"
Varro laughed. "We're all we've got, sometimes we get a bad grape and we dispose of it--who's to condemn us? We make our own laws--there's nothing else keeping us straight but El Pulpo Azul."
"What blue lines?" Spike asked, pouring himself more drink as he laid back on the warm sand.
"The blue fence," Varro pointed to the sea. "Look."
Spike turned his gaze and followed his. Sure enough, there is was. In the mists of the black sea a thin shimmering blue line circled the island.
"They call it El Pulpo Azul because back in the seventies this one vampire was caught, went by the name of Parchie, he was intent on escaping the island. Something about his love being out there," Varro said and laughed. Spike's eyes clouded. "But when he rowed his boat past the blue line he was zapped immediately... like an Octopus' tentacle... he went dust immediately... pulpo azul mean blue octopus." Varro looked at him. "Don' even try to escape, friend--whatever is living past these shores is not worth death."
Spike regarded him for a moment. Then decided to stand up. "Thanks for the ale and the blood, mate... I'll be going back to my place now."
"We have places in town, you know... and you can walk during the daylight, like I said the island is protected by black magic--you won't simmer," Varro offered.
"I simmered a few days ago when I first arrived," Spike told him.
Varro nodded. "It takes a few hours before the spell to cover you--you should have no problem now, come with us."
Spike shook his head. "I have some things there that are priceless... I'll check out the town tomorrow morning."
Varro nodded and extended his hand. "Tomorrow, then."
Spike nodded in return and walked away from the campfire and to his cave.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The mashed potatoes were paying the price of the frustration the slayer felt.
Mash... mush...squish...grunt...
"Umm...Buffy?"
The Slayer jumped and sighed when she saw it was Dawn.
"Don't sneak up on a potato smashing Slayer... the masher is very dangerous... not pointy but mashable."
Dawn looked at her like she had lost her mind. "Okay... so, what did the doctor tell you?"
Buffy went back to mashing.
Mash... mush...squish...grunt...
"I take it was bad news, then?"
She was not going to cry, not going to cry, not going to cry.... Salty tears were good for the potatoes... she didn't have to add salt now... if she could only convince anyone to eat them.
Okay... the snot was definitely not good for them.
She sobbed on top of the potatoes.
Dawn cringed and patted her arm.
"I'm pregnant!"
Dawn stood stock still. "What?"
A hiccupping sob and a snort. Not very lady like--but neither was her recipe.
"The doctor... I'm two months pregnant..." she looked at her little sister. "I've only been with Spike and we never... you know... his whammies are tail less... or at least they were."
Dawn gaped at her. "Oh god..."
Buffy hiccupped. "I know! And now..." Sob "He's gone and he doesn't know about... " Sob "I'll be all..."
"You're not alone, Buffy," Dawn told her, hugging her sister. "We're all here for you... I won't tell anyone... about you know, who the father is."
Buffy just let her sister hold her for a while. "Thank you, Dawnie..."
Dawn pulled back and smiled at her, tucking her tear soaked hair behind her ear. "You'll be great... I'll help out, I swear I will, Buffy---I'll be better."
Buffy gave her a pained smile.
They were interrupted by a hard knock on the front door. Buffy gave Dawn a masher. "Mash--I'll answer the door."
Dawn glared at the potatoes and cringed. She was so not eating those. Gross!
Buffy took a deep breath and calmed herself. She could do this--she could play the part. She opened the door and smiled.
Until she saw who it was. "Oh god..."
The man smiled. "Not the name I usually go by--Jack is just fine with me."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun was coming. He could feel it in his skin, in his pores in his taste buds. It was like an incoming storm that threatened to take reality away. And he welcomed it. He wanted it all destroyed until he danced in the nothingness.
It surprised him even more that he found the way to his cave easily. Like a path he had grown from the back of his mind--hiding in the subconscious. He knew his tree--the one that had shielded the no longer fatal sun.
So this was his life. And island filled with robbers, demons and vampires, all brought here to be taken away from society--a place of solace. His own Alcatraz.
"Pale night to be walking alone, don't you think?"
Spike jumped. His senses were diminishing, he wondered if it had to do with the magic that surrounded the place, he was never so slow.
He look at the intruder. The same red-headed man he had seen before he was knocked out. The same man who had heard his rant.
"And you are?" he wasted no time.
The man smiled yet didn't extend his hand like most the other inhabitants had. "Archibald DeLuca.... most everyone calls me Archie."
Spike smirked. "Is that a joke?"
Archie didn't laugh. "I know who you are, William the Bloody--I've read about you."
"Read about me?" Spike looked around. "Where, the local library made out of vines?"
Archie didn't move. "You'd be surprised how close to fact that is." He turned and motioned for Spike to follow him. "William St.John Tanther, born in 1854 in the town of Hereford, England to Marie Louise Tanther and William Albert St.John. Was turned in 1880, in London while at a social gathering. Turned by Drusilla, childe of Angelus of the bloodline of Aurelius--otherwise known as The Master." he looked back at Spike. "How am I doing so far?"
Spike growled at the man... no, at the vampire. "I always had a thing against turning librarians."
"You mean turning watchers."
Spike stared at the man. "You're a watcher."
"I was," Archie said as he stopped in front of his cottage made out of bamboo and palm leaves. "I was turned in 1645... one of the old ones."
Spike laughed. "It's rare for a vampire to get that old."
Archie looked at him. "The wise ones stay away from the demon world--it will only get them killed."
They entered his small home. Spike was in awe, the place was nicely furnished and a warm fire warmed the room from a makeshift chimney made out of concrete. And there were books. Tons of them. Books filled the five shelves he had, books were piled up in corners and in the middle of the floor, books on top of the two small tables and on top of the three small chairs. Books everywhere.
"You weren't kidding when you said about the library," Spike said.
Archie nodded and took some books off a chair to make room for Spike. "Yes, yes, I take care to keep my mind alive."
"How did you acquire so many things?" Spike asked and he sat down and picked up The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
"Shipments are brought in at the new moon... they throw boxes from planes. No one ever wants the books," he smiled. "They always want the beer."
Spike snorted and set the book down. "How long have you been here?"
Archive scratched his whitish beard and looked pensive. "I believe it was 1948 when I was captured. I was sent to the island around 1951... been here ever since."
Spike gaped at him. "You've been 'ere fifty years?"
The red head nodded sadly. "Learning of the outside world by scraps of newspaper and newcomers like you."
Spike could've screamed. He had to get out of this place and soon... he might look like this forever... but Buffy wasn't immortal. She could die and he wouldn't be there for her or nibblet... who would take care of them now?"
"Well I'm getting off this place as soon as I can... got people waiting back at home."
Archie smiled. "Yes, the Slayer, right?"
Spike stood up abruptly. "Where did you hear that?"
Archie didn't even blink--he was not scared nor impressed. "Word gets around in the demon world--you should know that."
Spike calmed a bit but began to pace. "I have to get back... she needs me."
Archie studied him for a while. "Life can be so ironic sometimes. Here you are, Spike--slayer of Slayers falling in love with a Slayer." He smiled and stood up to pour himself a drink, offering one to Spike. Spike nodded and took the whiskey.
"Yeah... ironic, ain't it?" Spike gulped his venom and handed the primitive cup back to the man. "So... how did your Slayer die?"
Archie flinched and sipped his drink. "We were traveling to Versailles... our carriage was attacked by private assassins... hired by the King. She fought bravely, I along with her. But I was old by then... perpetual 54, old for that time. She was shot three times by muskets. I was shot too trying to save her..." another sip as the eerie shadows danced across his face provided by the dying fire. "The death of a Slayer is a very powerful thing... there's a shift in nature almost. One dies another one is called. There's energy and power in the air while nature laments her death." He looked at Spike. "You should know... you caused it twice."
Spike looked down, it was like trying to look at Giles while telling him he was sleeping with Buffy--his surrogate daughter. "They had a death wish," he whispered.
"They might have... but we'll never now, will we?" Archie asked and smiled. "But why feel bad, William? There's no soul in you..."
Spike looked at him. "Do you have a soul?"
"Nope... I lost it the night I got myself piss drunk after Celia died... a rat vampire turned me, left me in the streets... I've been on my own since then," Archie swallowed the rest of his drink.
They remained quiet for a while, both lost in their own pasts, both remembering a Slayer they loved.
"Funny... it took me getting turned to find out the truths that this world hides. What the Council hides," Archie told Spike as he picked up a book from the floor, read the title 'The Prince' and chuckled.
"What does the Council hide?" Spike asked, looking uninterested.
Archie walked to him and handed him the book and smiled. "I could teach you... I could teach you many things."
Spike looked at the man before him. "I don't think so, mate--you might not mind living 'ere with your books and your philosophies but I have people that are waiting for me to get back. I *need* to get back home."
Archie chuckled and walked away. "There's the door... try to find a way home... if you fail my door is always open, friend."
Spike nodded in thanks for the whiskey and the chat and left him to read his Machiavelli.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And in the day, everything's complex
There's nothing simple when
I'm not around you
But I miss you, when you're gone
That is what I do, hey baby, baby
"You know... when you're feeling better... I would love to take you out for coffee..."
Buffy's head snapped up to meet Jack's. "Coffee?"
Jack bit his lower lip and looked down. "It's too early, I'm sorry."
Buffy studied him. His hair was dark brown--almost black and it was shaved short--army style. His blue eyes were dark and sincere and his smile just blew her away.
"It is early... too soon for me... but I don't mind later--if I'm feeling better," she said cautiously. He smiled radiantly at her.
"Great!" he stood and fumbled through his pockets. "Here..." he pulled out a small card. "This is my base... call me when you'd like... I'll gladly take you to the newest chick flick."
Buffy smiled, a bit watery and took his card. "Ok, then."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(2 weeks later)
He slammed his fists against the stone of his cave. Rage boiled within him as his plan number one hundred forty three had collapsed.
He slid down, not caring if the stone cut into his back and scrapped him. She was looking at him from across the cave. She was smiling as if telling him 'keep trying you'll find a way."
He wanted to sleep--in sleeping he was with her and she was with him. And all was ok. In his dreams he was whole and he wondered if he could live off blood and dreams. Like a lunatic in a cave.
The allegory of the cave... was he still seeing societal shadows? Mirrored by his own making and powered by his own desires?
He groaned. The poet and thinker was coming out. If he could just place all those energies and concentrate them on finding a way out of the magic he could make it home.
He felt someone approach the outside and stilled, grabbing a large wooden plank to defend himself.
He relaxed when he heard the drunken voices of the men, laughing and singing and they ran to the beach... late night swimming.
He sighed.
Gathering his few belongings he packed them into his small bag and started into the forest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy sat on her bed, all ready for her first day at work on this new job she had acquired. Assistant manager at the local branch of Sport's store.
She looked at the innocent little paper that was staring at her from on top of her dresser.
Jack's number.
She felt a familiar pain stir within her belly. Out of instinct she placed her hand on her slightly rounded belly and rubbed it in circles.
"It's ok, baby... mommy will take care of everything..." tears slipped from her eyes. Her baby... her and Spike's baby.
Spike was dead now. Nothing he could do for her and their child.
"I want you to know, baby--that no matter what happens your daddy and me loved each other very much..." she almost whispered to the little child growing inside of her. "No matter what."
With that she stood up and grabbed the piece of paper, walking it to the phone next to her bed. She took a deep breath and dialed the number.
A sleepy voice sounded after the third ring. "Hello?"
"Uhmm... hi! I'm looking for Jack Marshall...is he in?"
There was some fumbling in the other line and a clearing of the throat. "Yeah. Marshall here."
"Jack?" she asked, unsure.
"Buffy?"
She smiled. "Hey... listen, remember how you said to call you when I was feeling better?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's hard to carry on,
That is what I do, hey baby
Give it up... Hold on to my hands
I feel I'm sinking, sinking without you
Archie was finishing up his last cup of coffee, reading over the latest newspaper bits that came in in yesterday's shipment when his door was swung open.
He looked up, knowing who it was.
"Changed your mind, I see," the older vampire asked Spike. Spike set down his belongings on what he had claimed as his chair and looked at Archie.
"Where do I start?"
The red head cleaned out his cup and the small metal plate he considered his faucet.
"Go out tonight and get me one hundred and fifty coconuts... from the palm trees, none of the ones that have hit the ground."
Spike gaped at him. "A hundred and fifty? Are you mad? I'll be dripping blood all over the place."
"Lesson the first. Take the pain and turn it into anger." he lit his pipe. "Anger makes you a better warrior."
"I'm already a warrior," Spike stated.
Archie laughed. "Because you can throw a few punches and be resourceful at the same time doesn't make you brilliant." he looked at Spike. "Take off your shirt and shoes. Remain in your pants and start getting them... otherwise--there's the door."
Spike glared at him for a moment and decided he had nothing better to do. He pulled off his shirt and kicked off his boots and walked out.
"You have until 8AM to get them all in," Archie looked at his watch. "That gives you 9 hours... I'd hurry if I were you."
Spike growled and ran out into the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His whole body was in fire as he climbed what seemed like the hundredth palm tree that early morning. But the look of the coming dawn it was almost 5AM.
He grasped the tree trunk harder ignoring how it connected with his already raw skin and how he was painting the trunks blood red.
He was almost there but the blood was making him slip. He tried to grasp it but his fingers hurt too much he just let himself drop to the ground hoping that a stake would be waiting for him there.
There was no stake. He was just lying flat on his back, staring out into the night sky.
Why was he doing this again?
Oh, right cause the dimwit was making him... not really making him... what was it he said.
Place all your pain into anger.
Who did he hate? Really hate?
Soldier boy. Peaches. The Initiative.
I'll take care of your girl, buddy, she won't need a thing.
If he so much as dared touch Buffy...
It was like hollow, faceless hate. Pure hate and agony. He hated that this had happened to him and he hated those that had placed him here. It was like a new breed of demon was growing in his chest. The type that calculated his attacks ... the deadlier kind. It was no longer his senses driving him to do things--it was the death within him. That masquerade that he wore 24/7. It was the anger in him--the need to get back at everyone who had done this to him. From the time he was captured by the Initiative until now. Only one good thing had come out of this. Buffy loved him... at least she loved the man he used to be... the man he would no longer be.
He jumped to his feat and started climbing the palm tree. With every scrape there was more hate with every stinging of raw skin he could kill more. He was feeling an indescribably power run through his veins and with all the strength left in him he grabbed the root where the four coconuts dangled from and pulled at it ignoring the tearing of his skin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was 8:05 when all 150 coconuts were placed before Archie's hut.
Archie was sitting in his rocking chair smoking his pipe when Spike brought the last 4. His chest was almost raw and so were his hands and feet. But he stood proud as he threw the last of the coconuts.
"Done," he said and Archie could hear the pain in his voice.
"It's 8:05... I said before 8:00 AM."
Spike growled.
"Lesson the second. You must control your temper, in that you will control your demon."
Spike growled again.
Archie sighed and handed him a cup full of warm blood. "I can see this is going to be your hard subject."
Spike gulped back the blood quickly and greedily and now wiped his mouth as he glared at Archie. "What is the purpose of this bloody stupid exercise?"
Archie shrugged and smiled. "Nothing, really--just wanted fresh coconuts--I make the most incredible coconut cake."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And to my mind, everything's stinking
Stinking without you
And in the night I could be helpless
I could be lonely, slipping without you
(2 months later)
"Blue cheese dressing, right?" Jack asked her, forcing her out of her dreamland.
She smiled at him. "Yeah... you remembered."
He gave her the dressing packed to smother her Wendy's salad with. She was eating that along with chili and two burgers and a large fries.
"Are you sure you can eat all of that?" he asked cautiously--she could be moody at times, all contributed to her pregnancy.
Buffy stuffed 3 fries in her mouth along with a dripping tomato and made a 'yum' sound along with closing her eyes.
Jack cringed. "Are you sure that's safe for the baby?"
Buffy smiled down at her rounded belly. She was almost five months. "He loves it." She had never told Jack who the father was, being in the Initiative he knew that vampires couldn't reproduce. So she had told him, along with all her friends that it had been a one night stand.
Only Dawn and Tara knew who the father was. Anyone else was a crowd.
"So..." Jack began as he took a hearty bite off his burger. "Thought yet of what to name it."
Buffy paled and suddenly the chili with blue cheese dressing wasn't so appetizing. "Hummm.... I was thinking of William..."
Jack's mouth hung opened. "After the vampire?"
Buffy fumed and stood abruptly from the outside table. Jack sighed and went after, grabbing her arm and making her look at him.
She was crying. He bit his lip. "I'm sorry--that was uncalled for... you can name him anything you'd like."
Buffy looked up at Jack... he had become a friend... a good friend. A confidant. "I miss him so much at times..."
Jack said nothing more and pulled her into his arms.
Unlike Spike he was not cold or thin.
Jack was taller, not as tall as Riley or Angel but tall enough for her head to rest on his chest not his shoulder. The chest that held a beating heart.
He just held her for a while until she pulled away from him a bit... her eyes meeting his slightly full lips.
They were pink and looked warm.
Without thinking about it she leaned in and kissed him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TBC....