Title: A Mother's Wrath
Author: Tycho
Contact: tychocelchu@optusnet.com.au
Series: BtVS
Chapter: Four- The Most Important Thing
Rating: PG-13
Code: - B/S
Summary: An AU of the Glory Saga. The Monks create someone closer than a sister.
Timeframe: Takes place during "Doomed"
Archive: You betcha. Just lemme know.
Disclaimer: Whedon owns all.
* * * *
Joyce frowned as she tried to decide if answering the door had been a good idea. On the front step stood a person who had entered her home only twice. The first time had left her confused, angry and heartbroken, although it had been no fault of his own.
The second time, a little over a year ago, she had offered him cocoa and a figurative shoulder to cry on. Then he'd been 'escorted' from the premises. Apparently he was evil.
And now he was here again, with a concerned look on his face and the echo of bewilderment in his crystal blue eyes.
"Hello, Spike."
-------------------
Riley sat on the bed, trying to shoot hoops with mixed success. His life
had gone from reasonably simple/lightly complicated to, well, chaos with some
extra complications thrown in just for fun.
-Knock-Knock
----------------
A smile ghosted the vampire's lips. "'Allo Joyce. Could.....could I come in? Need to talk to you 'bout somethin'." Spike saw the Slayer's mother hesitate. "If I was going to hurt you, I wouldn't need to ask. The Slayer never uninvited me. 'Sides. Can't 'urt 'umans anymore."
Joyce's curiosity was piqued, and for some reason she'd always felt that she could trust him. "Come in, Spike." She stepped to allow him through. As he passed she asked, "Does Buffy know you're in town?"
"Heh. Yeah. You could say that."
------------------
"Come in."
A blonde head appeared through the gap between the door and the jam. Buffy
slowly walked in. "You never called. So I didn't know..."
At least Riley hadn't hit her with the ball. "Oh, hey - I'm sorry. I'm just
- I'm a dead man. - Secret. Highly. - Or it's supposed to be. And - and then you
find out. I can deal. You're special. But last night with your friends was a
disaster. I mean, could I've been less convincing? I was trained
to be sneaky and stuff, and I'm like - Hi! Paintball - just passing by! I should
have just given them my security code and rank!"
Buffy: "You have a security code and rank?"
----------------
The scene in the living room of 1630 Revello Drive mirrored the one of two years ago almost exactly. Except Joyce wasn't holding a tumbler filled with scotch, and her daughter wasn't in the kitchen.
Finally Spike ended the awkward silence. "How much has Buff told you about me? My bloodline?"
"Not much. I know that you're Angel's Childe? Is that the right term?"
"That's it. Dear old Dad. But he's not the founder of our line. That right belongs to a particularly vicious bastard called Aurelius. That's our bloodline. Our family name, if you will."
"Sounds a bit like the Bible really, from Aurelius came the Master."
"I've heard Buffy talk of him. I, He's dead isn't he? I mean dust?"
"And 'is bones ground to dust. The Slayer did that 'erself." Spike frowned, this next part might difficult for Joyce to accept. "But not before 'e killed her."
Joyce gasped. "I, I had no idea. I mean I knew that she'd.... She didn't tell me."
"Same as she keeps a lot to herself. 'S the way she is. Jus' wants to protect you I s'pose." Spike patted her knee in reassurance. "But Xander revived her, bringing about that whole second Slayer bit."
Joyce seemed to relax some at those words. "Remind me to thank Xander next time I see him."
"Sure, pet. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Bible. Aurelius sired the Master, who sired Darla, who sired Angelus, who sired Drusilla, who sired me." Spike stopped there, as Joyce seemed to be remembering something.
"I know that name. Darla. Oh, yes. The girl who was here that time I was hurt." Joyce's eyes widened in fear as she realized what her injury had actually been. "She fed from me! She's not, not still?"
"Among the walking dead? No. Peaches dusted 'er that night."
"Oh, thank goodness."
"Never did like 'er. The point of all this is, well, you know how with human families, children will make the same mistakes their parents did? Son of a wife beater an' all that?"
Joyce nodded.
"Well, vamps are no different. We tend to follow patterns. I took the trouble once to look back over the family tree once. Aurelius had been cast out by his family for becoming Christian, so 'e killed 'em all. Right down to the last second cousin."
"The Master fed on 'is family at the behest of 'is sire, and Darla? Well, she was the black sheep of the family. 'Er profession you understand. Really frowned upon among the colonists, if you get my meanin'."
"Angelus was no different. Disowned by 'is father, so 'e terrorizes the 'ole village. Then kills everyone who 'ad ever meant anythin' to 'im."
Joyce was horrified, and she showed it in her face and the tone of her voice. "I knew he'd done some horrible things but, his family? That's, ....." Joyce couldn't find the necessary word. She shook her head as if to clear it of the horrors she'd just heard. "Why are you telling me all this?"
"So you can understand something. Please, just let me finish. I know it's hard to hear, and the next bit is the worst, but please, hear me out."
Spike looked down at his shoes, as if he were ashamed, something that Joyce did not attribute to being a normal feeling for the undead. What she was hearing from him was shocking, and eye-opening. Both Giles and Buffy had told her that vampires were evil, but until now she hadn't truly realized just what that meant. Now she did. Family was the sole thing in Joyce's life really worth anything. To hear that Spike's .... ancestors, for lack of a better term, had destroyed that, was....
Joyce's head snapped up from contemplating her twisting hands and she stared at the platinum blonde vampire sitting across from her. *Please don't tell me he....* It was too horrible a thought to finish. That someone she had liked since their first, well second, meeting could ..... do that, was .....
Entirely possible.
Spike began to speak again. "Angelus gave rise to over half a dozen Childer, all of who carried on the 'tradition' with glee. Hell, one even made a career out of it. Stupid twit." He looked up at Joyce. "Then there was Dru. She didn't kill her family. Angelus did it for 'er. Whether she would have if given the choice will never be known. I'd like to think not."
Once again Spike looked at his shoes. "That's where I came into the picture. First few years, Dru was my everything. Sire, lover, hunt-partner, teacher. Wasn't 'til I heard about the Slayers that I asked Angelus to teach me everything 'e knew. 'E'd seen me destroy the lives o' those I hated in life, and assumed that I'd done my family in the same way."
He looked Joyce directly in the eye. "He was wrong."
-------------------
The camp was in chaos. Outside the dark caravan, Drusilla was having the time of her life terrorizing gypsies, at least one caravan was one fire and the horses were probably in the next valley by now. Darla was nearby shrieking and demanding something from the clan's leader. Spike didn't really care what. He was far more interested in the contents of the caravan.
He could hear five of them. Three were children, probably little things with those big dark innocent gypsy eyes. Dru liked eyes, and Spike grinned in anticipation of the reward he would get for his gift. There was also a young woman, virgin by the smell of her, and an older woman with grey at her temples.
The old woman puzzled him. She wasn't afraid. He reached for the pack of matches he kept in his coat and lit the nearby lamp. By the soft light of the oil soaked wick, he could finally see the occupants of the caravan clearly. He'd been right. Two young boys and a little girl. A doe eyed girl who couldn't be older than sixteen. And the older woman, about sixty years old, but the woman she'd been twenty years ago could still be seen, and Spike took a step backward in shock.
"Hello, William."
Spike blinked in surprise and let his face slip back into its human features. "Mum?"
-----------------
"No. Did I just say..?" Riley sank down on the end of his bed and
sighed. "This is so not good. Everybody knows about me. I'm finished. It's
the end of the world."
Buffy walked up to him and said with a smile, "No, it's not." She leant down and kissed him.