Poetry

Poetry

Willow sighed; Spike was sitting curled in the corner of the couch, sulking because she'd healed his cuts and bruises.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

Spike pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and threw it at her. Willow picked it up, smoothed it out and began reading. "This is really good, kinda dark, but good" she said a few minutes later. "Did you write it?"

Spike laughed, but Willow could see tears shining in his eyes. "No, William the Bloody Awful Poet did not write that. Spike wrote it."

"Okay," Willow said in a tone reserved for dealing with crazies.

Spike closed his eyes as he exhaled slowly. "Before I couldn't write, I only devalued the paper by putting pen to it. But you learn something about emotions and words in better than a century of existing. I tried to pretend Spike and William were different people. That I wasn't responsible for what the demon had done, because it wasn't me. But it infects everything I am. There is no separate Spike and William, there's only me, and all those things I remember… I did them. The demon is still me, I can't keep him out."

"Is that why your getting yourself hurt?" Willow asked.

"Not at first, at first I was proud of not fighting back. Proved I was William, not Spike, that's what I thought. It was a lie. I'm still Spike, I'll always be Spike. He needs to be punished. His crimes were against humans so…" Spike grinned weirdly. "They're punishing him… me, for existing. They just don't know it."

"But you weren't responsible, well… your soul wasn't anyways, it wasn't there," Willow said. "And you can use the demon to help, like Angel does, but not if you're all messed up."

Spike plucked the poem out of Willow's hands and read it again. "Do you know what I would have given to be able to write like this when I was human?" he asked.

Willow waited quietly for him to continue.

"A lot," Spike said. "But no where near as much as it actually cost."

"Ahhh, Buffy, could you leave the shades down?" Willow asked. "I kind of put Spike up in the basement last night."

"Fine, whatever," Buffy sighed. "Just have him gone at sundown."

"I was thinking about making it a long term arrangement," Willow said hesitantly. At the look on Buffy's face she rushed on. "Why not? He's depressed. The soul thing is hitting him harder than ever. I'm worried he's going to really hurt himself if things keep going the way they have been. If he's spending the days here we can keep a better eye on him. Plus I think it will be good for him to be around friends more. And… And I'd think you'd be the first person to want to help him, because of, you know… Angel."

"How does Angel have anything to do with Spike?" Buffy demanded.

"Because Angel had to go through all this too. That's what he said," Willow began. "Only he had to do it on his own. It makes me feel kind of guilty, which doesn't make any sense, cause hello, my grandparents weren't even born a hundred years ago and only one great grandparent, who was three when Angel got cursed, so me doing anything back then, not really an option. But still someone should have helped Angel and a hundred years from now I don't want some other witch sitting around thinking, 'Gee why didn't anyone help Spike when he needed it. They must have all been totally heartless back then'."

"Laying it on a little thick Wills?" Buffy asked. Then she relented. "He can stay. Just don't expect me to be all proactive about this. Involvement with one souled vampire was my limit, okay. Fate doesn't like vampires and vampire slayers getting fluffy feeling for each other, I'm not about to tick it off again. I don't need anymore heartbreak."

"You didn't hear?" Willow asked. "Spike's soul is permanent. Angel got both their curses fixed."

"Look, that isn't the point," Buffy replied. "It's not like I'm interested in getting groiny with Spike anyway, I just meant…"

"Meant what?" Willow asked when Buffy trailed off into silence. "Cause it sounds like you've thought about exactly that."