Part 6
Spike was dreaming. It was a dream he had almost every
night. A dream he knew would never happen...
It was day. The birds were singing. The wind was blowing
gently, like a quiet whisper. He was in the park. He was
with Buffy. They were together. Happy. And he was alive,
human... Another thing that would never happen. He, a
human, and Buffy, the woman he loved, were at the park,
watching the children play. Like a normal couple. He
desperately wanted this but would never in a million years
let anyone know that. He'd rather drink holy water.
Neither said anything. They just sat together on the park
bench, holding hands. It was perfect.
But the perfection was shattered. Pain laced through his
body. Spike jerked awake. He gasped and grabbed his head.
He felt someone run their hands through his hair. He opened
his eyes. Buffy stayed. She stayed with him. When the pain
disappeared, he looked at her. All the hatred and disgust he
usually saw in her eyes were replaced with concern and
something else he couldn't name. What was that? Love? But
he knew that couldn't be it. Buffy could never love him.
He was a monster. A thing.
"How are you?" she asked quietly.
"Peachy," he grimaced. His head was still hurting.
Buffy glanced over at the window.
"Hmm. Sun's setting. I should do a quick sweep."
Spike nodded, moving off her.
"Will you be alright?" she asked.
"Yeah, you go ahead. I'll be find."
She nodded and headed for the door.
"You stayed with me all day?" Spike asked, a touch of
surprise in his voice.
Buffy shrugged, "Yeah."
"Thank you," Spike said, touched very deeply by her actions.
Could it be? he asked himself.
She smiled before slipping out the door. Spike watched her
leave before settling back into the bed, alone. Alone with
his thoughts. He sighed. Oh, what's a poor, dying, paraplegic
vampire to do, he thought. He didn't quite fancy lying around,
waiting for either Buffy to return or another attack to occur.
He sighed again. And then he remembered. His journal. The
one he asked Buffy to get him. Luckily, retrieving it didn't
require getting out of the bed. Buffy was kind enough to place
his things well within his reach.
He held the well-worn leather-bound journal in his hands.
It was as old as he was. Something that belonged to William
all those years ago. Something William treasured. The last
gift he received from his grandmother before she passed away.
It was one of the few things that Spike kept with him when
he became a vampire. William had used the journal to write
down his thoughts and poetry. Just as Spike did now.
Inside the journal, there was a century plus long gap between
William's last entry and Spike's first. Spike, when he was
newly vamped, was afraid to write in it. What would Angelus
have done if he caught him? Though Spike would never admit
it, he respected Angelus, even feared him at times. When
Angelus became Angel and disappeared and after Darla left,
Spike still didn't write in it. Why? He didn't know. He
only began to write in it after he fell in love with Buffy.
She revived the poet in him. She alone brought out William,
the man Spike thought was lost forever. He was pleased to
discover his poetry writing had improved with time. Might
never win any literary awards, but not laughable anymore.
So, Spike picked up his pen and let the words flow...
*****
A monster untamed
So long ago
Without remorse
Without love
A monster now tame
By electric spider-webbing
A monster now lost
With nowhere to turn
A monster in love
With his mortal enemy
A monster despised
Treated with disdain
A monster changed
Though no one can see
Past the monster
Of yesteryear
A monster dying
Without salvation
Without hope
A monster in fear.
Wow, I'm some peice of work, huh? A vampire who, instead of
despising the White Hats, is helping them. A vampire who,
instead of killing the Slayer, is loving her. And now I'm
dying. Thanks to this little peice of technology the government
was so eager to ram up my skull. And you know what the best
part is? Before I'm dust, I get to enjoy all kinds of torture.
Let's see, first there is the mind-splitting migraines. Now
that's been joined by paralysis. Yep, William the Bloody can
no longer walk...as if the first time wasn't bad enough.
I hate this. I hate being so weak. I hate not being able
to take care of myself. I hate the sympathetic looks I get
from the Scoobies. Now that I'm dying, it seems I'm tolerable
company. It hurts. It hurts to know that everything I've
done over the last two years had been in vain. I guess they
can't see past the monster, the demon.
But what hurts the most is the way Buffy' s been acting
towards me. Now that I'm dying she behaving as though she
likes me. And I find myself playing the game of 'what-if.'
What if she showed the interest she's showing me now before
all this? How different would things be? What if I didn't
stay in Sunnydale? Where would I be during all this? In
some abandoned building, just waiting to die? What if I
never got the chip in my brain? Would I just be some random
pile of dust somewhere? Would I be in love with Buffy?
Would I have killed her? What if I never came back to
Sunnydale? Where would I be? Would I have my own assemblage
of minions and together we plan massacres and the like? Oh,
here's one: What if Dru never turned me into a vampire?
I've thought about it. About what might have happened if I
never went into that stable after being horribly rejected by
Cecily. Would I have slowly picked up the tattered pieces of
my heart and move on? What things would I have accomplished?
Would I have finally gotten married to a woman I loved who
returned that affection and would I have been a father? You
know, I've always wanted kids. Loved them. Still do. But,
now, that's out of the question. An impossibility. I wonder
if I would have lived a long healthy life.
But I can wonder and dream all I want. It won't change things.
I'm dying. And I'm afraid. Yeah, that's right. I guess
immortality does that. Make you terrified of death. I've
lived 121 years without having to fear my death. And now,
death's knocking on my door and I'm afraid to open that door.
When I die, I'll never see Buffy again, or Niblet, or, hell,
the Scoobies... I'll even miss Xander the whelp. I don't want
to die.
*****
Spike put his pen and journal up just as the door opened.
Dawn came in with a deck of cards in her hand.
Spike smiled for her sake, "Hey, Lil' Bit."
She sat on the bed, "Thought you might like some company."
"You though right."
Dawn smiled, "So, game of rummy?"
Buffy surveyed the cemetery. No demons visible, but that
didn't mean they weren't hiding. So she meandered through
the sea of tombstones in plain view, beckoning the vampires
and demons to come out and play with her deceitfully vulnerable
and weak appearance. And it worked. No fewer than ten steps
and she was faced with a group of four vampires. A walk in
the park. She reached for her stake, hidden in the waistband
of the back of her jeans.
"Hey, guys," she said, pulling the stake out and letting its
presence be known.
"Slayer," one said.
Buffy feigned disappointment, "Aww, you know who I am? Now
you've spoiled the surprise." She shrugged, "Oh, well." She
bounded at them, launching into a fury of punches and kicks.
Three of the vamps were quickly staked and now it was one on
one.
The remaining vamp sneered, "This oughta be fun."
Before Buffy could launch an attack against him, the vampire
was tackled to the ground by an unknown person and staked.
The unknown attacker stood up, revealing his identity.
Buffy dropped her stake to her side, "What the *hell* are
you doing?"
Riley smiled, "I'm helping you."
She sighed, "I don't need your help."
"Do you always patrol alone?"
Usually I'm with Spike, she thought, Okay, maybe it was more
like he was following her around but who's really bothering
with the details, right? "No. Not always."
"But it's dangerous for you to patrol by yourself. You could
get hurt or worse."
God, does he ever give up? "Riley, I'm the Slayer. I don't
need your or anyone else's protection."
She started to walk off, but Riley stayed at her heels,
earning an eye roll and a sigh.
"I stopped by Spike's crypt earlier today. He wasn't there,"
Riley stated.
Buffy stopped walking and looked at him, "Why were you even
at Spike's? Last I checked, you two weren't exactly buddy-
buddy."
Riley shrugged, "That's between him and me. So any ideas
where he is?"
Buffy shrugged, pretending not to care, "I don't know. I
don't keep tabs on him. He's his own vamp; doesn't need
anyone to look after him."
"Buffy, where is he?"
"Have you been listening? I don't know where he is. Don't
care."
"Buffy, you suck at lying."
Her eyes widened, "Duck."
"What?"
She shoved him to the ground, "Duck." She rammed her stake
into the heart of the unsuspecting vampire who was standing
behind Riley. After that was done, she returned her attention
to Riley, who was returning to his feet.
"Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go home now."
She turned to go, but Riley grabbed her arm.
"But we're not through talking," Riley insisted.
She looked at his hand on her forearm then up to his face.
Riley recognized that look she was giving him and quickly
let go. "Sorry."
Buffy sighed.
Riley spoke, "Why won't you tell me where he is?"
"What should I? So you can ram a stake up his chest, or
what?"
"Maybe. You can't seem to do it."
Buffy glared at him, "A lot has changed since you went away,
including Spike."
"Oh, please. He's a vampire; he can't change."
Buffy was tired of this, "Whatever. I'm leaving now. I'll
see you later."
She left and, this time, Riley didn't follow.
Buffy unlocked the door and entered her house, dropping the
keys on the little table near the door. No one greeted her.
Hmm, Will and Tara must be out, she thought.
She went upstairs to her bedroom. Spike was sitting up
against the headboard asleep and Dawn had her head on his
shoulder, also asleep. Buffy smiled at the sight before her
and closed the door, letting the two rest. She went back
downstairs and into the kitchen. Might as well get something
to eat.
End Part 6
TBC...
Spike was dreaming. It was a dream he had almost every
night. A dream he knew would never happen...
It was day. The birds were singing. The wind was blowing
gently, like a quiet whisper. He was in the park. He was
with Buffy. They were together. Happy. And he was alive,
human... Another thing that would never happen. He, a
human, and Buffy, the woman he loved, were at the park,
watching the children play. Like a normal couple. He
desperately wanted this but would never in a million years
let anyone know that. He'd rather drink holy water.
Neither said anything. They just sat together on the park
bench, holding hands. It was perfect.
But the perfection was shattered. Pain laced through his
body. Spike jerked awake. He gasped and grabbed his head.
He felt someone run their hands through his hair. He opened
his eyes. Buffy stayed. She stayed with him. When the pain
disappeared, he looked at her. All the hatred and disgust he
usually saw in her eyes were replaced with concern and
something else he couldn't name. What was that? Love? But
he knew that couldn't be it. Buffy could never love him.
He was a monster. A thing.
"How are you?" she asked quietly.
"Peachy," he grimaced. His head was still hurting.
Buffy glanced over at the window.
"Hmm. Sun's setting. I should do a quick sweep."
Spike nodded, moving off her.
"Will you be alright?" she asked.
"Yeah, you go ahead. I'll be find."
She nodded and headed for the door.
"You stayed with me all day?" Spike asked, a touch of
surprise in his voice.
Buffy shrugged, "Yeah."
"Thank you," Spike said, touched very deeply by her actions.
Could it be? he asked himself.
She smiled before slipping out the door. Spike watched her
leave before settling back into the bed, alone. Alone with
his thoughts. He sighed. Oh, what's a poor, dying, paraplegic
vampire to do, he thought. He didn't quite fancy lying around,
waiting for either Buffy to return or another attack to occur.
He sighed again. And then he remembered. His journal. The
one he asked Buffy to get him. Luckily, retrieving it didn't
require getting out of the bed. Buffy was kind enough to place
his things well within his reach.
He held the well-worn leather-bound journal in his hands.
It was as old as he was. Something that belonged to William
all those years ago. Something William treasured. The last
gift he received from his grandmother before she passed away.
It was one of the few things that Spike kept with him when
he became a vampire. William had used the journal to write
down his thoughts and poetry. Just as Spike did now.
Inside the journal, there was a century plus long gap between
William's last entry and Spike's first. Spike, when he was
newly vamped, was afraid to write in it. What would Angelus
have done if he caught him? Though Spike would never admit
it, he respected Angelus, even feared him at times. When
Angelus became Angel and disappeared and after Darla left,
Spike still didn't write in it. Why? He didn't know. He
only began to write in it after he fell in love with Buffy.
She revived the poet in him. She alone brought out William,
the man Spike thought was lost forever. He was pleased to
discover his poetry writing had improved with time. Might
never win any literary awards, but not laughable anymore.
So, Spike picked up his pen and let the words flow...
*****
A monster untamed
So long ago
Without remorse
Without love
A monster now tame
By electric spider-webbing
A monster now lost
With nowhere to turn
A monster in love
With his mortal enemy
A monster despised
Treated with disdain
A monster changed
Though no one can see
Past the monster
Of yesteryear
A monster dying
Without salvation
Without hope
A monster in fear.
Wow, I'm some peice of work, huh? A vampire who, instead of
despising the White Hats, is helping them. A vampire who,
instead of killing the Slayer, is loving her. And now I'm
dying. Thanks to this little peice of technology the government
was so eager to ram up my skull. And you know what the best
part is? Before I'm dust, I get to enjoy all kinds of torture.
Let's see, first there is the mind-splitting migraines. Now
that's been joined by paralysis. Yep, William the Bloody can
no longer walk...as if the first time wasn't bad enough.
I hate this. I hate being so weak. I hate not being able
to take care of myself. I hate the sympathetic looks I get
from the Scoobies. Now that I'm dying, it seems I'm tolerable
company. It hurts. It hurts to know that everything I've
done over the last two years had been in vain. I guess they
can't see past the monster, the demon.
But what hurts the most is the way Buffy' s been acting
towards me. Now that I'm dying she behaving as though she
likes me. And I find myself playing the game of 'what-if.'
What if she showed the interest she's showing me now before
all this? How different would things be? What if I didn't
stay in Sunnydale? Where would I be during all this? In
some abandoned building, just waiting to die? What if I
never got the chip in my brain? Would I just be some random
pile of dust somewhere? Would I be in love with Buffy?
Would I have killed her? What if I never came back to
Sunnydale? Where would I be? Would I have my own assemblage
of minions and together we plan massacres and the like? Oh,
here's one: What if Dru never turned me into a vampire?
I've thought about it. About what might have happened if I
never went into that stable after being horribly rejected by
Cecily. Would I have slowly picked up the tattered pieces of
my heart and move on? What things would I have accomplished?
Would I have finally gotten married to a woman I loved who
returned that affection and would I have been a father? You
know, I've always wanted kids. Loved them. Still do. But,
now, that's out of the question. An impossibility. I wonder
if I would have lived a long healthy life.
But I can wonder and dream all I want. It won't change things.
I'm dying. And I'm afraid. Yeah, that's right. I guess
immortality does that. Make you terrified of death. I've
lived 121 years without having to fear my death. And now,
death's knocking on my door and I'm afraid to open that door.
When I die, I'll never see Buffy again, or Niblet, or, hell,
the Scoobies... I'll even miss Xander the whelp. I don't want
to die.
*****
Spike put his pen and journal up just as the door opened.
Dawn came in with a deck of cards in her hand.
Spike smiled for her sake, "Hey, Lil' Bit."
She sat on the bed, "Thought you might like some company."
"You though right."
Dawn smiled, "So, game of rummy?"
Buffy surveyed the cemetery. No demons visible, but that
didn't mean they weren't hiding. So she meandered through
the sea of tombstones in plain view, beckoning the vampires
and demons to come out and play with her deceitfully vulnerable
and weak appearance. And it worked. No fewer than ten steps
and she was faced with a group of four vampires. A walk in
the park. She reached for her stake, hidden in the waistband
of the back of her jeans.
"Hey, guys," she said, pulling the stake out and letting its
presence be known.
"Slayer," one said.
Buffy feigned disappointment, "Aww, you know who I am? Now
you've spoiled the surprise." She shrugged, "Oh, well." She
bounded at them, launching into a fury of punches and kicks.
Three of the vamps were quickly staked and now it was one on
one.
The remaining vamp sneered, "This oughta be fun."
Before Buffy could launch an attack against him, the vampire
was tackled to the ground by an unknown person and staked.
The unknown attacker stood up, revealing his identity.
Buffy dropped her stake to her side, "What the *hell* are
you doing?"
Riley smiled, "I'm helping you."
She sighed, "I don't need your help."
"Do you always patrol alone?"
Usually I'm with Spike, she thought, Okay, maybe it was more
like he was following her around but who's really bothering
with the details, right? "No. Not always."
"But it's dangerous for you to patrol by yourself. You could
get hurt or worse."
God, does he ever give up? "Riley, I'm the Slayer. I don't
need your or anyone else's protection."
She started to walk off, but Riley stayed at her heels,
earning an eye roll and a sigh.
"I stopped by Spike's crypt earlier today. He wasn't there,"
Riley stated.
Buffy stopped walking and looked at him, "Why were you even
at Spike's? Last I checked, you two weren't exactly buddy-
buddy."
Riley shrugged, "That's between him and me. So any ideas
where he is?"
Buffy shrugged, pretending not to care, "I don't know. I
don't keep tabs on him. He's his own vamp; doesn't need
anyone to look after him."
"Buffy, where is he?"
"Have you been listening? I don't know where he is. Don't
care."
"Buffy, you suck at lying."
Her eyes widened, "Duck."
"What?"
She shoved him to the ground, "Duck." She rammed her stake
into the heart of the unsuspecting vampire who was standing
behind Riley. After that was done, she returned her attention
to Riley, who was returning to his feet.
"Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go home now."
She turned to go, but Riley grabbed her arm.
"But we're not through talking," Riley insisted.
She looked at his hand on her forearm then up to his face.
Riley recognized that look she was giving him and quickly
let go. "Sorry."
Buffy sighed.
Riley spoke, "Why won't you tell me where he is?"
"What should I? So you can ram a stake up his chest, or
what?"
"Maybe. You can't seem to do it."
Buffy glared at him, "A lot has changed since you went away,
including Spike."
"Oh, please. He's a vampire; he can't change."
Buffy was tired of this, "Whatever. I'm leaving now. I'll
see you later."
She left and, this time, Riley didn't follow.
Buffy unlocked the door and entered her house, dropping the
keys on the little table near the door. No one greeted her.
Hmm, Will and Tara must be out, she thought.
She went upstairs to her bedroom. Spike was sitting up
against the headboard asleep and Dawn had her head on his
shoulder, also asleep. Buffy smiled at the sight before her
and closed the door, letting the two rest. She went back
downstairs and into the kitchen. Might as well get something
to eat.
End Part 6
TBC...
