Title: Alison
Author: Lore
Rating: gen
Summary: Spike is confronted with his actions in Smashed
Disclaimer: Don't own, please don't sue
"Alison.
Her name was Alison. Alison Martin.
I first met her about four years ago at the birthday party of a
friend. She was so beautiful. Standing there in the light for all to
see.
I went to her and she looked up and offered me her hand. I placed a
kiss on it and introduced myself.
She was 24 years old.
She'd been a student at UC Sunnydale for the past three. I kept
telling her to pick a real major, but she refused, to busy switching
topics, enjoying life.
So kind and gentle she was, watching over me, forgiving me.
I don't have a nice past. I did things I regret. But she forgave me.
She forgave all of it and gave me a chance.
She liked horses. Took me riding once, I did it for her sake.
Her name was Alison. She was my love.
The happiest moment in my life was when she said yes when I asked her
to marry me. We were going to have a winter wedding, tying the knot
just before christmas. She'd bought her dress months ago. It's still
hanging on a hook in her old room at her parents place.
She spent the last two months of her life hiding out in that room, to
terrified to step a foot outside. Cold to the world, cold to
everything.
Her name was Alison. Her tombstone reads Beloved Daughter.
Oh God I miss her.
I found her you know, I thought she was sleeping at first. I went to
her, kissed her on the head. That's when I noticed how cold she was.
How blue her skin looked. There were pills standing on the
coffeetable in front of her.
She killed herself.
She hated herself after what you did to her.
Yes you. You damn bastard. I know it was you.
A bleach blond Brittish Billie Idol lookalike.
She told me, the last time she actually spoke.
How you attacked her, you didn't even listen to her, you kept on
about someone else. She didn't matter? Did she?
She was just noone, just a nobody.
Well the hell she was.
She was Alison Martin, the woman I loved and you killed her.
No, you're right, you didn't kill her, not literally, but you
destroyed her. You took away everything that meant something to her.
Her confidence, her likes, her dislikes.
No, shut up, move and I kill you.
She liked walking out late, going home on foot, she liked seeing the
stars above her, enjoying the fresh air. She used to love that song
Dancing in the rain. She used to put it on again and again. And then
when it rained she'd started doing that dance, making me do it with
her. We'd end up laughing, almost rolling on the ground.
She couldn't be like that no more. Not after you attacked her. Not
after you took the wonder of the night away from her.
She used to love the night, you made it a scary place.
She never left her room after that, to scared to go out, haunted by
nightmares of the demon who'd come for her. That's how you made her
see you, as a demon.
Silent! I'm talking.
And her name is Alison, not chit or bitch or ...
Her name is ... was Alison.
She was my Alison.
I don't want to know why you did it, why should I give a damn. I just
want you to pay.
It wasn't nothing!
Just cause you didn't harm her, cause you couldn't kill her, do you
think that made it better? She suffered every remaining day of her
life, fearing, dreading the outside world, terrified you'd come after
her again.
How dare you stand there and look at me like that, just holding that
cigarette, trying to look cool.
She's not just a number, not just a mealticket.
Her name was Alison.
Don't you move, I'll shoot you. I swear I will ... I'll...
I'm pulling the trigger, don't you dare come closer. Stay back you
bastard! One more move and you'll be the one dead. Lying there,
unbreathing like her.
I don't care what you are. I just want ...
I don't want to be like you, a killer. I want her back.
I just want her back.
Stay away, please, don't make me kill you.
I don't want to cry, I don't care if you're sorry. I don't give a
damn, I just want her back.
Why did she have to die."
Spike stared at the wreck of a men kneeled in front of him, broken
apart by a loss he'd caused. The pain of a woman that he'd been to
blind to see.
He really did want to feel sorry, but like the bloke said, it didn't
make a difference now. He knew that what he'd done had been wrong,
but she wasn't ... he didn't even know the bitch. He hadn't
needed ... wanted to know her. He'd just wanted to kill, to be able
to kill to be powerful again.
Apologizing didn't mean a thing.
Guilt wouldn't make an inch of difference.
He stared at the boy and pulled a card out of his pocket. It held a
number and an adress. The place was some special kind of demon
clinic. They'd be able to help him get rid of the chip. Make him
powerful again. Make him himself again.
He slowly shredded the damn thing.
It wasn't worth it.
