Title: Monster
Author: BlueLight
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
Blurb: Spike flees from Buffy but encounters a monster from his past, himself. Final Chapter. Get out your hankies. Gonna make somebody cry. A final epiphany for Evil Spike.
Acknowledgement: Thanks to LadyStarlight for her advise and editing.
Distribution: Fine, just let me know where.
Reviews, constructive criticism requested.
Feedback: Please. So I learn what works and what doesn't.
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The Man
He closed the distance to the open door. Inside the streetlight filtered in through high windows, each pane painted a slightly different color, making a mosaic chipped in burgundy, red, pink, and white. The ceiling was three stories up, catwalks below it. The floor was littered with old pallets, rusting 55-gallon drums, a toppled pyramid of ripped and half rotten mattresses and, the common detritus of urban decay, broken bottles. The roof was half open to the sky and shallow puddles covered the concrete floor, ripples still moving where a running figure had disturbed them.
He picked up a couple of drums and used them to block the door. He searched for openings in the structure's gray stone walls. The walls were damp. Some sections were faintly green with moss, some covered in black mold and some, under old pipes or supports, swirled with patterns of rust. Rusty pipes, rusty supports, rusty barrels, rusty walls. The building was bleeding iron oxide. He found three other entrances but their doors were still solid and locked. No way out for her there. Now it was just him and her. He was hobbled but he could still hurt. Indirectly at least. He summoned all the anger he hadn't allow himself to feel toward Buffy, all the bitterness in his heart, all the memories of the pain she had put him through and rolled them around in his mind like an emotional fireball, searing his thoughts into pure malice. Then turned that malice toward something he didn't love. Toward a blond animal hiding in the dark.
"Allie, allie, oxen free.." he sang softly, letting his cries echo off the stone walls. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," he crooned.
He walked across the water, letting his feet pop the puddle with each step. Still calling to her he crossed to the far end of the building, where he could hear her hidden heartbeat accelerate, where he could smell her fear and how she had peed herself while hiding.
"Fee, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of a …" He stopped. Thinking of the last time he had said those words. When he had been trying to kill Buffy at her high school. Still barely knowing her. Already, well, wanting to kill her, but attracted to her and forcing down thoughts of having his hands on her. Again the twist in his heart, just thinking about her, wanting her so much, anyway she wanted it. Forget the sex. If she would just talk to him. Let him patrol with her. Hang about. God, anything, Anything, ANYTHING to convince her he wasn't a monster. Anything.
The girl suddenly shot out from behind a row of drums. He half snatched at her but missed and she fled past him, took a leap and landed on the sagging, metal staircase running up the side of the wall, up to the roof. She made it up about ten feet before the stairs started to collapse, one riser after another coming loose as the girl scrambled higher.
In the dim light he saw a young blond girl struggling for her life against a monster who meant to take it. So many times he'd seen another blond girl doing the same. This one wasn't strong and fearless. This one had only terror and her panicked desire to live driving her on. But still, they were the same. This one was a substitute for Buffy. And this one was about to fall and die.
The girl struggled to hold on to the slowly collapsing structure. Already the bottom had broken away and clanged loudly into the concrete below it. There was no way down for her. He made a move toward her but the falling metal was too much like the organ whose collapse had left him crippled for so long. She clawed up it desperately, hanging on the rusty steps, moving toward the opening in the roof. She grabbed its edge just as the rest of the stairway lurched away from her, settling about ten feet down, precariously teetering on a few rusted supports. When she lost her grip she would be impaled on its rusty skeleton and ride it down to her death.
She hung from the opening, her hands slipping.
He watched. Buffy said he couldn't feel. But he did feel. He felt love for Buffy. And Dawn. He hurt when they hurt. Buffy was the center of his universe. Had been the center. Now he was abandoned, cast back into a dark world where he didn't fit anymore. Where, truth be told, he didn't want to fit anymore. He wanted to feel. And he did. He felt sorrow for this girl. Thinking of how broken she would be when her hands let go and she fell and hit the metal and concrete beneath her. Like Buffy fell and lay broken and dead on a pile of rocks.
He ran away from that sight, back to where the roof gaped open to the sky, then gathering all his demon strength, jumped, caught the edge and pulled himself up. Ran as fast as he could to the opening where the girl dangled, slipping away, and reached down for her. Looking up she saw his face and approaching hand. She gasped and let go. He pushed his body half down through the hole and grabbed her as she fell, pulled her up through the opening, up on the roof, then fell back with her on top of him.
They lay there a minute. The girl gasping, her heart thumping like a jackhammer.
He looked up at the sky. The clouds had blown away the moon looked a pure bright white. He wondered what Buffy was looking at right then.
The girl rolled off him and into a crouching position, casting her eyes around, looking for a way out. She dragged herself up tiredly and backed away.
He could read her face. There was nothing on the roof but them. And no way for her to get off the roof. At least not alive.
He stood up. Put his foot through a rotten section and almost went down through the roof to the concrete below. He carefully moved away from the hole, noticing how soft and unstable the boards beneath his feet were. He needed to get her down. Get them both down. He could jump and he could catch her if she would jump into his arm. If he could get her to trust him.
He put his hands up in a "calm down" motion. Tried to talk to her.
"Easy, luv. Stay still. Whole roof's rotten. Just stay still."
She continued to back away from him. Her arms wrapped around herself. Her face streaked with tears, her uniform torn and dirty, her stockings in shreds, one shoe gone, probably caught on the rusted metal below.
"Don't mean you any harm. Couldn't hurt you if I wanted to. Got this chip in my head. Can't hurt anyone. Can't hurt you."
She continued to back away. He tried to get closer, to catch her, so he could get her down to safety.
"Stay still. I promise I won't hurt you. I won't hurt anyone. I don't want to anymore. I'm a better man. I'm not a monster anymore. I promi…"
She suddenly disappeared with a cry that ended too soon with a soft thud. There was only a hole where she had been.
Spike didn't look down. He didn't want to see. He'd seen a girl broken in a fall before. He went down on his knees and cried. Cried for all the things he had done in his life, all the hurt and harm he had done and this was just one more thing. He cried for all he had killed. And, to be true, he also cried for himself knowing he would never have Buffy, that she could never love him because he was a monster, and cried because he was a monster. Evil unchanging.
Finally dawn neared and he leapt from the roof, went back to his car and drove, where he didn't care.
And Anne who had been Lily who had been Chantarelle lay on the pile of wet mattresses that had broken her fall, listening to him go and waiting quietly for the sun.
***************************************************
FeedBack: Reviews or constructive criticism requested. Hell if you hated it and found it unreadable I need to know that too. Or how do I get better.
Author: BlueLight
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
Blurb: Spike flees from Buffy but encounters a monster from his past, himself. Final Chapter. Get out your hankies. Gonna make somebody cry. A final epiphany for Evil Spike.
Acknowledgement: Thanks to LadyStarlight for her advise and editing.
Distribution: Fine, just let me know where.
Reviews, constructive criticism requested.
Feedback: Please. So I learn what works and what doesn't.
*******************************************
The Man
He closed the distance to the open door. Inside the streetlight filtered in through high windows, each pane painted a slightly different color, making a mosaic chipped in burgundy, red, pink, and white. The ceiling was three stories up, catwalks below it. The floor was littered with old pallets, rusting 55-gallon drums, a toppled pyramid of ripped and half rotten mattresses and, the common detritus of urban decay, broken bottles. The roof was half open to the sky and shallow puddles covered the concrete floor, ripples still moving where a running figure had disturbed them.
He picked up a couple of drums and used them to block the door. He searched for openings in the structure's gray stone walls. The walls were damp. Some sections were faintly green with moss, some covered in black mold and some, under old pipes or supports, swirled with patterns of rust. Rusty pipes, rusty supports, rusty barrels, rusty walls. The building was bleeding iron oxide. He found three other entrances but their doors were still solid and locked. No way out for her there. Now it was just him and her. He was hobbled but he could still hurt. Indirectly at least. He summoned all the anger he hadn't allow himself to feel toward Buffy, all the bitterness in his heart, all the memories of the pain she had put him through and rolled them around in his mind like an emotional fireball, searing his thoughts into pure malice. Then turned that malice toward something he didn't love. Toward a blond animal hiding in the dark.
"Allie, allie, oxen free.." he sang softly, letting his cries echo off the stone walls. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," he crooned.
He walked across the water, letting his feet pop the puddle with each step. Still calling to her he crossed to the far end of the building, where he could hear her hidden heartbeat accelerate, where he could smell her fear and how she had peed herself while hiding.
"Fee, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of a …" He stopped. Thinking of the last time he had said those words. When he had been trying to kill Buffy at her high school. Still barely knowing her. Already, well, wanting to kill her, but attracted to her and forcing down thoughts of having his hands on her. Again the twist in his heart, just thinking about her, wanting her so much, anyway she wanted it. Forget the sex. If she would just talk to him. Let him patrol with her. Hang about. God, anything, Anything, ANYTHING to convince her he wasn't a monster. Anything.
The girl suddenly shot out from behind a row of drums. He half snatched at her but missed and she fled past him, took a leap and landed on the sagging, metal staircase running up the side of the wall, up to the roof. She made it up about ten feet before the stairs started to collapse, one riser after another coming loose as the girl scrambled higher.
In the dim light he saw a young blond girl struggling for her life against a monster who meant to take it. So many times he'd seen another blond girl doing the same. This one wasn't strong and fearless. This one had only terror and her panicked desire to live driving her on. But still, they were the same. This one was a substitute for Buffy. And this one was about to fall and die.
The girl struggled to hold on to the slowly collapsing structure. Already the bottom had broken away and clanged loudly into the concrete below it. There was no way down for her. He made a move toward her but the falling metal was too much like the organ whose collapse had left him crippled for so long. She clawed up it desperately, hanging on the rusty steps, moving toward the opening in the roof. She grabbed its edge just as the rest of the stairway lurched away from her, settling about ten feet down, precariously teetering on a few rusted supports. When she lost her grip she would be impaled on its rusty skeleton and ride it down to her death.
She hung from the opening, her hands slipping.
He watched. Buffy said he couldn't feel. But he did feel. He felt love for Buffy. And Dawn. He hurt when they hurt. Buffy was the center of his universe. Had been the center. Now he was abandoned, cast back into a dark world where he didn't fit anymore. Where, truth be told, he didn't want to fit anymore. He wanted to feel. And he did. He felt sorrow for this girl. Thinking of how broken she would be when her hands let go and she fell and hit the metal and concrete beneath her. Like Buffy fell and lay broken and dead on a pile of rocks.
He ran away from that sight, back to where the roof gaped open to the sky, then gathering all his demon strength, jumped, caught the edge and pulled himself up. Ran as fast as he could to the opening where the girl dangled, slipping away, and reached down for her. Looking up she saw his face and approaching hand. She gasped and let go. He pushed his body half down through the hole and grabbed her as she fell, pulled her up through the opening, up on the roof, then fell back with her on top of him.
They lay there a minute. The girl gasping, her heart thumping like a jackhammer.
He looked up at the sky. The clouds had blown away the moon looked a pure bright white. He wondered what Buffy was looking at right then.
The girl rolled off him and into a crouching position, casting her eyes around, looking for a way out. She dragged herself up tiredly and backed away.
He could read her face. There was nothing on the roof but them. And no way for her to get off the roof. At least not alive.
He stood up. Put his foot through a rotten section and almost went down through the roof to the concrete below. He carefully moved away from the hole, noticing how soft and unstable the boards beneath his feet were. He needed to get her down. Get them both down. He could jump and he could catch her if she would jump into his arm. If he could get her to trust him.
He put his hands up in a "calm down" motion. Tried to talk to her.
"Easy, luv. Stay still. Whole roof's rotten. Just stay still."
She continued to back away from him. Her arms wrapped around herself. Her face streaked with tears, her uniform torn and dirty, her stockings in shreds, one shoe gone, probably caught on the rusted metal below.
"Don't mean you any harm. Couldn't hurt you if I wanted to. Got this chip in my head. Can't hurt anyone. Can't hurt you."
She continued to back away. He tried to get closer, to catch her, so he could get her down to safety.
"Stay still. I promise I won't hurt you. I won't hurt anyone. I don't want to anymore. I'm a better man. I'm not a monster anymore. I promi…"
She suddenly disappeared with a cry that ended too soon with a soft thud. There was only a hole where she had been.
Spike didn't look down. He didn't want to see. He'd seen a girl broken in a fall before. He went down on his knees and cried. Cried for all the things he had done in his life, all the hurt and harm he had done and this was just one more thing. He cried for all he had killed. And, to be true, he also cried for himself knowing he would never have Buffy, that she could never love him because he was a monster, and cried because he was a monster. Evil unchanging.
Finally dawn neared and he leapt from the roof, went back to his car and drove, where he didn't care.
And Anne who had been Lily who had been Chantarelle lay on the pile of wet mattresses that had broken her fall, listening to him go and waiting quietly for the sun.
***************************************************
FeedBack: Reviews or constructive criticism requested. Hell if you hated it and found it unreadable I need to know that too. Or how do I get better.