Day 49
I'm patrolling on my own more and more these days. The Scooby's keep having their little meetings and apparently can't be bothered with the work. Strangely enough though, I'm actually patrolling tonight with Watcher. He's been fairly quiet these forty nine days since Buffy...left us. We do our rounds in silence, not having much luck when I finally break the silence. "Rupert", I say, "maybe we should try the Bronze, or some of the dives near the docks. There's always some matter of beastie waiting about."
"Very, well. We'll go down to the Bronze, then swing by the docks. But then we are finished. I have several bottles of scotch waiting for me, and I shant disappoint them." Well now, Watcher's gone crawling to the bottle eh? I know that song pretty well. Done it myself on more than one occasion.
"Scotch, huh? Single malt?"
"Of course. I am civilized, you know."
"Uh huh. Civilized, eh? What's so civilized about drowning your sorrows in booze? 'Cause I'd think you'd be tougher than that." Oh, that sets him off, next thing I know, he's grabbed hold of me, jerking me off the street and slamming me up against an alley wall. He's in my face now, seething with rage. Didn't take much to get him going. This should be fun, if a little painful.
"You shut your gob, you pathetic thing! Don't you dare tell me how to deal with my pain! What do you know of pain?! What do you know of suffering?! What do you-" I cut him off at that, breaking his grip on me with quick strikes to his forearms. Giles stumbles back in pain as the chip in my head sings me a painful little ditty. I shake off the sparks behind my eyes as my own personal electric kool-aid acid test wears off. Giles is glaring at me still, but now he keeps his distance. Smart man, remembering that I am still more than capable of violence. I'm not a punching bag.
"Now that we've gotten past the obligatory strutting and penis comparisons, shall we talk? Or would you like to see how much I can hurt you before this sodding chip turns my brains into porridge?" Oh, he's blanching now. Let's work with that. "Remember this, Rupert. I tolerate the lot of you for Buffy's sake and for Dawn's. Nothing else! So don't think you can treat me like a dog, you get me! I don't need you near as much as you need me!"
"Y-yes, Spike. O-of c-c-course you're right. I apologize. I-I-I've just been on edge, as of late. It's just...difficult, you understand? Intellectually, I know that a Watcher always outlasts their Slayer, but..."
"You're still never ready for it. You ask yourself 'How did I cock this up? What horrible mistake did I make that called for her to give her life so that I may live?'. That sound 'bout right, Watcher?"
"Yes, Spike. Th-that's it exactly. How can you..."
"I ask those same questions every day I'm forced to walk this world knowin' that she's gone." I walk away from Giles, headed for the Bronze. He jogs up behind me.
"Spike, where are you going?"
"To finish up this round of patrollin', then get some shut eye. Comin'?" He falls in step by my side. And we walk, in silence...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Patrol actually got a little eventful after me and Watcher's little talk. A small crew of vamps were tryin' to take advantage of Buffy's 'vacation' and tried to round up a seven course meal at the Bronze. Tried. Of the five of them, I staked three of the wankers, while Watcher went 'Ripper' on the other two. He's not bad in a fight, if he's riled up good and proper. I walked with him back to his flat, where he handed me a bottle of single malt. 'To help us both remember, rather than forget', he said. Whatever. All I know is that I've got me a nice bottle of booze, and I didn't even have to steal it. I drank from it as I strolled through Sunnyhell, not in a big rush to get anywhere. 'Course, this means that before I know it, I'm standing under that ever faithful tree in the front lawn of 1630 Revello Drive. The lights are all out, so I know they're all asleep in there. I climb up the tree right quick and check on Nibblet. She's resting peacefully, for a change. That's good, she doesn't normally get a good night's rest anymore. I don't want to disturb her, so I take my leave and head for the crypt.
Renovation's coming along nicely. Soon enough, it'll be quite posh. Not that I'm ever going to have anyone over to share it with, but hey? Why not live in style? The bed looks positively inviting as I collapse upon it, the scotch in my system workin' its will. I try to get comfortable before sleep overtakes me, but I'm so drunk right now, it doesn't really matter...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, I'm at Doc's with Harris. My hands are slightly burnt, but I've retrieved the box Doc was so desperate to destroy. Harris has just stabbed the wanker through the chest, coating himself in blue goo. Must be Doc's blood. Ugh, it smells horrible, like rancid meat. He's getting up to follow me out, asking what's in the box. I tell him, "Somethin' worth dyin' for". He gets that, but just leaves the git as is. Uh-uh, not bloody likely. "Harris, you lack brain, cut that pillock's heart out before he gets back up."
"Huh? No! Gross! You do it!"
"Sissy." I take the sword and stab Doc through the chest again. His eyes bulge open, like he wasn't expectin' this. Damn idiot, haven't you been paying attention to my other dreams? I do this every other time. So I use the sword like a giant scalpel and spread his rib cage open. I reach in and yank out the wanker's heart. Would you look at that? It's still beating. That's an easy fix. I drop it on the ground and smash it under my boot. Then I pick up what's left and, oh c'mon Doc, you know the rest don't you, throw it into the fire. As has happened before, he disintegrates.
Fast forward. Glory and the bot are going at it, and the rest of us, minus Red and Harris, rush the bad guy gaggle. There's a fair amount of scabbies in the mix, which gives me stuff I can kill. Oh yeah, love that bit. The crowd has broken up into a series of small brawls. The scabbies are going after Watcher and Anya now, leaving me with the nut jobs, who are painfully human. This is why we got driven back in the first place, 'cause I couldn't fend off these poor gits in the first place, what with the chip and all. Oh, and now Buffy is getting it on with the Hell Skank. Bot's all busted up. We're still getting pushed back and that's bad news for us white hats. Just 'cause Doc's a non issue doesn't mean that one of the scabbies won't make a run for it and do the job himself. I have to get through this-
Got an idea. I'm remembering what Dru said to me, last I saw her. She talked about not believin' in science. Maybe she was on to something there. Her insane rambling always used to make sense to me, so let me think a bit...maybe it's just a matter of, oh what's that word again, compartmentalizing the pain. Kinda like those Tibetan monks who walk on burning coals without scorchin' their feet. They know that the pain is there, but they don't allow it to affect them. It's all about the willpower. And hey, if there's anything I got, it's willpower. How else could I survive the way I do? So, I fall back a bit, to get away from the freaks and I try to focus on something besides the pain from the chip. Nasty deeds of violence from times past? No, reminds me of what I lost when I got this stinking thing jammed up in my brain. No good there. Reciting Shakespeare in my head? No, I'm too scatterbrained. Wouldn't be able to keep it up. There's only one thing I know that'll keep me focused. My promise. I'd die to protect Dawn, so what's with a few thousand volts, right? Yeah, that'll do. I got a mission to complete, loath as I am to coin Captain Cardboard phrases, so I'd best get to it. Can't keep a lady waitin', right? Bad form, that.
So I charge forward again, keepin' Sweet Bit's face in my mind, her big blue eyes all teary and red. The first nut job gets in my way and, WHAM! To the moon he goes, courtesy of Ol' Spike's right fist. The chip's going off. I can feel it, but the pain's not affecting me. It's like I know it's there, but it's in another room, like an alarm clock. I'm clobberin' crazies left and right, clearin' a path to the stairwell. Must have started raining or something, 'cause I hear little pitter patters hitting my coat. Not very many though, must only be a drizzle.
I'm flying up the stairs now, ignoring the little raindrops and that annoying fly that's buzzing around me just out of sight. I'm taking steps two at a time, moving faster than even Buffy could on a good day. I reach the scaffold and sure enough, there's some old scabbie up there, saying something about Doc bein' late. Can't really make it out with all this buzzing. Wish that damned bug would sod off. I'm up on the thing in an instant, tossing him off the side like I was taking out the garbage and reach Dawn. She's got this look of horror on her face. Don't get why, considering I just saved her. Oh, well. Best get her down.
I loosen her bonds and help her down the stairs. Buffy's just finished off Glory, who's reverted back to Ben. Giles will be headed over soon, no doubt, to show the boy what the man is really capable of. The scabbies are all either dead or scattered, as are the nut jobs. The Scoobies all circle around me and Dawn, similar looks of fear and horror on their faces. The Slayer too. Maybe it's 'cause I was able to hurt all those crazies. I should say something, tell them about how I just really focused and forgot all about the chip-
Oh, God! The pain! I collapse in a heap, vomiting blood, my blood, as my body shakes into convulsions! I bring a hand up to my nose, then my eyes and ears. Every orifice on my head is oozing blood. That's what the drops were, my blood dripping out of my body as the chip did its grisly work. The distant buzzing, I realize now that it was the chip, shocking my brain. It never turned off. It's going off even now, louder and more painful than ever. Then I figure it out. Fail safe. Push it too hard and the chip locks into the on position. It's never gonna turn off. I'm frying before their eyes.
I'm going to die.
The shakes are starting to get worse as my brain begins to liquefy. At best, I'd be a vegetable, unable to move or speak or do anything for myself. Never. That's not the way for a guy like me. As best as I can, I roll over to face Buffy, who's kneeling beside me, holding my hand. She's crying those bittersweet tears. You know, like the ones you shed when you've won, but at too high a cost? Well, asking me, I don't think the cost was all that high, just one soulless thing. "Buffy?", I barely manage to whisper.
"Y-yes, Spike?"
"I t-t-told you once, th-th-there's d-d-d-death, a-a-a-and Gl'ry, an' s'd 'll else, right?" God, I can barely talk. It just hurts too much.
"I remember."
"N'd you t' do s'mthin f'r me, luv."
"Anything. Just name it."
"I wanna see th' sun one l'st time, but don't let it burn me. Make...it...quick."
"NO! We can fix you, Spike! We can make you better! There's got to be another way, right?!" She looks at Giles, who no doubt just got finished killing old Benjy, and he shakes his head. He knows there's nothing to do but put the dog down. Anything else would be...cruel.
"There's nothing we can do for him, Buffy, except release him from his pain", Giles says quietly.
"I don't accept that!", she screams, tears streaming down her face.
"Ya got to, luv", I croak out, "B'lieve me, it's b'tter th's way." She looks into my bloody eyes and nods slowly. She hefts me up into her arms and brings me out into a clear area, facing east. Despite everything going on inside me, I can smell the sunrise. It's just below the horizon. I can see, with sudden clarity, the orange glow on the skyline as that big ball of light just slides up into the sky. It's so beautiful, just as I remember it was. So golden and intoxicating, just like Buffy. Oh, that a creature as low as I, can behold such radiant beauty.
My skin starts to smoke as I look up at the face of my salvation, a twenty year old girl. A girl who would never be free, so long as she lived this life. A girl who, just by being herself, had maybe redeemed this demon, so that he may soar with angels again. I strangle out a few more words, guttural noises really. "It's time, Slayer." She nods her head again, and without saying a word or even looking down, she swings her arm around my chest, embedding a stake in my heart. My eyesight fades as I utter my final words, "I love you"...Then everything is black.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
My eyes snap open as I bolt up into a seated position. My head's pounding and I begin to scream as tears race down my cheeks. Could I have really been that brave? Could I have been that heroic, to sacrifice myself so easily? Would that have even worked? And, if it did, is there a fail safe in the chip that would do just what I dreamed it would do? Don't care about the last question, it's really a matter of semantics, but the other questions truly frighten me. Could I sacrifice myself for Dawn? Would I really lay down my existence, so that she could live? Could I do it for Buffy? My mind wants to say yes, without a shadow of doubt, but the truth is, I never want it to come down to it.
I am afraid of what the answers might truly be...
I'm patrolling on my own more and more these days. The Scooby's keep having their little meetings and apparently can't be bothered with the work. Strangely enough though, I'm actually patrolling tonight with Watcher. He's been fairly quiet these forty nine days since Buffy...left us. We do our rounds in silence, not having much luck when I finally break the silence. "Rupert", I say, "maybe we should try the Bronze, or some of the dives near the docks. There's always some matter of beastie waiting about."
"Very, well. We'll go down to the Bronze, then swing by the docks. But then we are finished. I have several bottles of scotch waiting for me, and I shant disappoint them." Well now, Watcher's gone crawling to the bottle eh? I know that song pretty well. Done it myself on more than one occasion.
"Scotch, huh? Single malt?"
"Of course. I am civilized, you know."
"Uh huh. Civilized, eh? What's so civilized about drowning your sorrows in booze? 'Cause I'd think you'd be tougher than that." Oh, that sets him off, next thing I know, he's grabbed hold of me, jerking me off the street and slamming me up against an alley wall. He's in my face now, seething with rage. Didn't take much to get him going. This should be fun, if a little painful.
"You shut your gob, you pathetic thing! Don't you dare tell me how to deal with my pain! What do you know of pain?! What do you know of suffering?! What do you-" I cut him off at that, breaking his grip on me with quick strikes to his forearms. Giles stumbles back in pain as the chip in my head sings me a painful little ditty. I shake off the sparks behind my eyes as my own personal electric kool-aid acid test wears off. Giles is glaring at me still, but now he keeps his distance. Smart man, remembering that I am still more than capable of violence. I'm not a punching bag.
"Now that we've gotten past the obligatory strutting and penis comparisons, shall we talk? Or would you like to see how much I can hurt you before this sodding chip turns my brains into porridge?" Oh, he's blanching now. Let's work with that. "Remember this, Rupert. I tolerate the lot of you for Buffy's sake and for Dawn's. Nothing else! So don't think you can treat me like a dog, you get me! I don't need you near as much as you need me!"
"Y-yes, Spike. O-of c-c-course you're right. I apologize. I-I-I've just been on edge, as of late. It's just...difficult, you understand? Intellectually, I know that a Watcher always outlasts their Slayer, but..."
"You're still never ready for it. You ask yourself 'How did I cock this up? What horrible mistake did I make that called for her to give her life so that I may live?'. That sound 'bout right, Watcher?"
"Yes, Spike. Th-that's it exactly. How can you..."
"I ask those same questions every day I'm forced to walk this world knowin' that she's gone." I walk away from Giles, headed for the Bronze. He jogs up behind me.
"Spike, where are you going?"
"To finish up this round of patrollin', then get some shut eye. Comin'?" He falls in step by my side. And we walk, in silence...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Patrol actually got a little eventful after me and Watcher's little talk. A small crew of vamps were tryin' to take advantage of Buffy's 'vacation' and tried to round up a seven course meal at the Bronze. Tried. Of the five of them, I staked three of the wankers, while Watcher went 'Ripper' on the other two. He's not bad in a fight, if he's riled up good and proper. I walked with him back to his flat, where he handed me a bottle of single malt. 'To help us both remember, rather than forget', he said. Whatever. All I know is that I've got me a nice bottle of booze, and I didn't even have to steal it. I drank from it as I strolled through Sunnyhell, not in a big rush to get anywhere. 'Course, this means that before I know it, I'm standing under that ever faithful tree in the front lawn of 1630 Revello Drive. The lights are all out, so I know they're all asleep in there. I climb up the tree right quick and check on Nibblet. She's resting peacefully, for a change. That's good, she doesn't normally get a good night's rest anymore. I don't want to disturb her, so I take my leave and head for the crypt.
Renovation's coming along nicely. Soon enough, it'll be quite posh. Not that I'm ever going to have anyone over to share it with, but hey? Why not live in style? The bed looks positively inviting as I collapse upon it, the scotch in my system workin' its will. I try to get comfortable before sleep overtakes me, but I'm so drunk right now, it doesn't really matter...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, I'm at Doc's with Harris. My hands are slightly burnt, but I've retrieved the box Doc was so desperate to destroy. Harris has just stabbed the wanker through the chest, coating himself in blue goo. Must be Doc's blood. Ugh, it smells horrible, like rancid meat. He's getting up to follow me out, asking what's in the box. I tell him, "Somethin' worth dyin' for". He gets that, but just leaves the git as is. Uh-uh, not bloody likely. "Harris, you lack brain, cut that pillock's heart out before he gets back up."
"Huh? No! Gross! You do it!"
"Sissy." I take the sword and stab Doc through the chest again. His eyes bulge open, like he wasn't expectin' this. Damn idiot, haven't you been paying attention to my other dreams? I do this every other time. So I use the sword like a giant scalpel and spread his rib cage open. I reach in and yank out the wanker's heart. Would you look at that? It's still beating. That's an easy fix. I drop it on the ground and smash it under my boot. Then I pick up what's left and, oh c'mon Doc, you know the rest don't you, throw it into the fire. As has happened before, he disintegrates.
Fast forward. Glory and the bot are going at it, and the rest of us, minus Red and Harris, rush the bad guy gaggle. There's a fair amount of scabbies in the mix, which gives me stuff I can kill. Oh yeah, love that bit. The crowd has broken up into a series of small brawls. The scabbies are going after Watcher and Anya now, leaving me with the nut jobs, who are painfully human. This is why we got driven back in the first place, 'cause I couldn't fend off these poor gits in the first place, what with the chip and all. Oh, and now Buffy is getting it on with the Hell Skank. Bot's all busted up. We're still getting pushed back and that's bad news for us white hats. Just 'cause Doc's a non issue doesn't mean that one of the scabbies won't make a run for it and do the job himself. I have to get through this-
Got an idea. I'm remembering what Dru said to me, last I saw her. She talked about not believin' in science. Maybe she was on to something there. Her insane rambling always used to make sense to me, so let me think a bit...maybe it's just a matter of, oh what's that word again, compartmentalizing the pain. Kinda like those Tibetan monks who walk on burning coals without scorchin' their feet. They know that the pain is there, but they don't allow it to affect them. It's all about the willpower. And hey, if there's anything I got, it's willpower. How else could I survive the way I do? So, I fall back a bit, to get away from the freaks and I try to focus on something besides the pain from the chip. Nasty deeds of violence from times past? No, reminds me of what I lost when I got this stinking thing jammed up in my brain. No good there. Reciting Shakespeare in my head? No, I'm too scatterbrained. Wouldn't be able to keep it up. There's only one thing I know that'll keep me focused. My promise. I'd die to protect Dawn, so what's with a few thousand volts, right? Yeah, that'll do. I got a mission to complete, loath as I am to coin Captain Cardboard phrases, so I'd best get to it. Can't keep a lady waitin', right? Bad form, that.
So I charge forward again, keepin' Sweet Bit's face in my mind, her big blue eyes all teary and red. The first nut job gets in my way and, WHAM! To the moon he goes, courtesy of Ol' Spike's right fist. The chip's going off. I can feel it, but the pain's not affecting me. It's like I know it's there, but it's in another room, like an alarm clock. I'm clobberin' crazies left and right, clearin' a path to the stairwell. Must have started raining or something, 'cause I hear little pitter patters hitting my coat. Not very many though, must only be a drizzle.
I'm flying up the stairs now, ignoring the little raindrops and that annoying fly that's buzzing around me just out of sight. I'm taking steps two at a time, moving faster than even Buffy could on a good day. I reach the scaffold and sure enough, there's some old scabbie up there, saying something about Doc bein' late. Can't really make it out with all this buzzing. Wish that damned bug would sod off. I'm up on the thing in an instant, tossing him off the side like I was taking out the garbage and reach Dawn. She's got this look of horror on her face. Don't get why, considering I just saved her. Oh, well. Best get her down.
I loosen her bonds and help her down the stairs. Buffy's just finished off Glory, who's reverted back to Ben. Giles will be headed over soon, no doubt, to show the boy what the man is really capable of. The scabbies are all either dead or scattered, as are the nut jobs. The Scoobies all circle around me and Dawn, similar looks of fear and horror on their faces. The Slayer too. Maybe it's 'cause I was able to hurt all those crazies. I should say something, tell them about how I just really focused and forgot all about the chip-
Oh, God! The pain! I collapse in a heap, vomiting blood, my blood, as my body shakes into convulsions! I bring a hand up to my nose, then my eyes and ears. Every orifice on my head is oozing blood. That's what the drops were, my blood dripping out of my body as the chip did its grisly work. The distant buzzing, I realize now that it was the chip, shocking my brain. It never turned off. It's going off even now, louder and more painful than ever. Then I figure it out. Fail safe. Push it too hard and the chip locks into the on position. It's never gonna turn off. I'm frying before their eyes.
I'm going to die.
The shakes are starting to get worse as my brain begins to liquefy. At best, I'd be a vegetable, unable to move or speak or do anything for myself. Never. That's not the way for a guy like me. As best as I can, I roll over to face Buffy, who's kneeling beside me, holding my hand. She's crying those bittersweet tears. You know, like the ones you shed when you've won, but at too high a cost? Well, asking me, I don't think the cost was all that high, just one soulless thing. "Buffy?", I barely manage to whisper.
"Y-yes, Spike?"
"I t-t-told you once, th-th-there's d-d-d-death, a-a-a-and Gl'ry, an' s'd 'll else, right?" God, I can barely talk. It just hurts too much.
"I remember."
"N'd you t' do s'mthin f'r me, luv."
"Anything. Just name it."
"I wanna see th' sun one l'st time, but don't let it burn me. Make...it...quick."
"NO! We can fix you, Spike! We can make you better! There's got to be another way, right?!" She looks at Giles, who no doubt just got finished killing old Benjy, and he shakes his head. He knows there's nothing to do but put the dog down. Anything else would be...cruel.
"There's nothing we can do for him, Buffy, except release him from his pain", Giles says quietly.
"I don't accept that!", she screams, tears streaming down her face.
"Ya got to, luv", I croak out, "B'lieve me, it's b'tter th's way." She looks into my bloody eyes and nods slowly. She hefts me up into her arms and brings me out into a clear area, facing east. Despite everything going on inside me, I can smell the sunrise. It's just below the horizon. I can see, with sudden clarity, the orange glow on the skyline as that big ball of light just slides up into the sky. It's so beautiful, just as I remember it was. So golden and intoxicating, just like Buffy. Oh, that a creature as low as I, can behold such radiant beauty.
My skin starts to smoke as I look up at the face of my salvation, a twenty year old girl. A girl who would never be free, so long as she lived this life. A girl who, just by being herself, had maybe redeemed this demon, so that he may soar with angels again. I strangle out a few more words, guttural noises really. "It's time, Slayer." She nods her head again, and without saying a word or even looking down, she swings her arm around my chest, embedding a stake in my heart. My eyesight fades as I utter my final words, "I love you"...Then everything is black.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
My eyes snap open as I bolt up into a seated position. My head's pounding and I begin to scream as tears race down my cheeks. Could I have really been that brave? Could I have been that heroic, to sacrifice myself so easily? Would that have even worked? And, if it did, is there a fail safe in the chip that would do just what I dreamed it would do? Don't care about the last question, it's really a matter of semantics, but the other questions truly frighten me. Could I sacrifice myself for Dawn? Would I really lay down my existence, so that she could live? Could I do it for Buffy? My mind wants to say yes, without a shadow of doubt, but the truth is, I never want it to come down to it.
I am afraid of what the answers might truly be...