Something about that place always drew him back in the end. No matter how hard he resisted, no matter how hard he told himself that was the last hell he wanted to visit, he couldn't keep himself from going back. At first he thought the familiar sights might give him some comfort, some sense of home, but the moment he passed that damned "Welcome To Sunnydale" sign, his head screamed out, and he flinched at the rush of memories that bore down on him with painful vividness.
The wheel of the stolen car was wrenched out of his hands, and he felt the vehicle lurch to the side. He grabbed at the wheel as he regained his senses, and pulled it back onto the road before he smashed into the guardrail like he had in Santa Fe. Mumbling under his breath, he hunched forwards, squinting through tired eyes at the yellow lines on the road before him.
"Gotta pay attention, mate," he told himself softly, as he pulled up to a street and parked between two SUVs.
He ditched the car there, grabbing the already worn jean jacket he'd managed to buy in LA. He glared at the thing in distaste, realizing that he looked totally unlike himself. Tattered blue jeans, grey t-shirt, that ugly jacket. The only thing he'd managed to save of his own were his prized Docs. He took a moment to glance fondly at them.
Sliding the cursed garment on his bony frame, he began the long trek to the graveyard he'd called his own territory for so long.
In his condition, weary, starving, and still slightly injured from a bar fight the previous night, it took him over an hour. The old grounds greeted him like an old friend- one you loved but couldn't help to hate.
"Home sweet home," he muttered.
He fumbled with shaky hands at the pockets of his jacket, searching for a pack of cigarettes, and cursed when he found none. He angrily kicked at a headstone, but didn't have the strength to topple it. He pulled out his lighter, glaring at the grave marker, and flicked the Zippo open.
*FLASH*
A woman and her child, screaming as flames enveloped their house, growing nearer to the corner they were hidden in.
"You should've come out when I asked," Spike said jovially, tossing down the rest of the liquor in the brown bottle he held. Sniffing at the smell of burning skin, he shrugged and tossed the matchbook down indifferently.
*FLASH*
He blinked twice, caught off guard by that vision, and roared angrily, stuffing his lighter in his pocket.
These memories had been coming for so long that he'd gotten tired of crying like a bloody wanker and finally started getting angry. They were an annoyance, and he was tired of seeing the pain he'd inflicted.
He blinked again and stared at his hand in surprise, realizing that it hurt for some reason. The fist was bloodied and already bruising. Making a face, he looked down and saw a chunk of cement missing from the headstone. There was a pile of stone on the grass, covered with grey dust.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath.
"Over here!" a voice shouted suddenly. "I'm staking this time!"
Spike recognized that voice. He groaned angrily, putting two and two together. The sisters had heard his cry of rage and assumed someone was in trouble. Great. Just bloody great.
He hopped onto a large headstone, sighing in defeat, and waiting for them to rush into view.
"Dawn, wait up!" Buffy's voice said as the two crashed through the foliage to Spike's front, in true slayer fashion.
She crashed headfirst into her taller sister when Dawn stopped in her tracks, staring at the man on the stone.
"S-Spike?" Dawn whispered in disbelief.
"The cavalry's here!" Spike shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "Never fear, we're saved! The world is righted again!"
His arms fell limply to his sides as the two girls stared.
"Spike?" Buffy said finally. "Is that you?"
He laughed a short gruff laugh that had no humor in it. "I dunno, Slayer, I really don't know."
Dawn took a step forward, and threw off the arm Buffy held out to stop her.
"Spike," she said, and he was surprised to hear gladness in her voice.
Imagine that…gladness to see him. HIM.
"H'lo, Dawn," he said finally, warily.
"I thought you were dead!" she screamed angrily, shoving him backwards, her stake falling to the ground.
He fell off the grave, landing hard on his back, and when he got to his knees he was tackled again. Only this time, instead of being shoved, he was being embraced. Arms tightly wrapped around him, holding on tightly, making sure he couldn't pull away.
His arms still lay at his side, his eyes dull, not registering the surprise. Slowly, though, he lifted heavy limbs and encircled the thin girl, gripping her just as strong.
She was crying, he could feel the tears on his cheek as she pulled her head back to look at him.
"I thought you were dead," she sniffed.
He stood up, lifting her with him, and pushed her arms back to her sides.
"I am."
She looked confused.
Buffy stepped forward then, and grabbed Dawn's hand for support. Whether it was for her or for her sister remained to be seen.
"Spike," she said gently, lip trembling despite her will to be strong.
"Buffy," he regarded her.
"If you're dead, how are you talking to us?" Dawn broke in, crying. "You are not dead!"
He grabbed her other hand and pressed it to his chest. "Silence speaks louder than words."
She pulled her hand back, frowning.
"You're scaring her," Buffy said, staring at him.
"Look at where she lives," he said with a shrug. "It's nothing new."
*FLASH*
"Fear," Angelus said, sniffing the blood pouring from the woman's neck. "Always makes the kill sweeter."
Spike caught the half dead woman in his arms. She stirred.
"Please," she mumbled, her last words. "Please don't…"
He sank his fangs into her tender neck.
*FLASH*
"Spike?"
It was Buffy, sounding concerned. He chortled inwardly. Concerned, pff. That would happen.
He turned to her nevertheless. "Huh?"
"Where were you just then?" she asked with raised brows.
"Total space out," Dawn confirmed.
He shook his head. "What do you two want?"
"Want?" Buffy asked, now even more confused.
"Yeah, want," he repeated.
"N-nothing," Dawn said. "Are you okay, Spike?"
*FLASH*
"I think you'll enjoy this," he said sadistically, positioning the piece of wood just right. "Really, loads of fun…"
*FLASH*
He shook his head again. "What?"
Both of them were staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. He even looked over to make sure he hadn't, and burst into laughter when he realized how ridiculous he was being.
Great, now they looked shocked.
*FLASH*
He looked at Spike in shock as he realized what was about to happen.
"N-no!"
"Don't resist so much," he said softly. "It doesn't hurt so much…once your dead."
*FLASH*
He needed a few seconds to grasp the fact that he'd said that aloud, but needed only one to take off as fast as he could, leaving them behind.
Now if he could only outrun the screams.
The wheel of the stolen car was wrenched out of his hands, and he felt the vehicle lurch to the side. He grabbed at the wheel as he regained his senses, and pulled it back onto the road before he smashed into the guardrail like he had in Santa Fe. Mumbling under his breath, he hunched forwards, squinting through tired eyes at the yellow lines on the road before him.
"Gotta pay attention, mate," he told himself softly, as he pulled up to a street and parked between two SUVs.
He ditched the car there, grabbing the already worn jean jacket he'd managed to buy in LA. He glared at the thing in distaste, realizing that he looked totally unlike himself. Tattered blue jeans, grey t-shirt, that ugly jacket. The only thing he'd managed to save of his own were his prized Docs. He took a moment to glance fondly at them.
Sliding the cursed garment on his bony frame, he began the long trek to the graveyard he'd called his own territory for so long.
In his condition, weary, starving, and still slightly injured from a bar fight the previous night, it took him over an hour. The old grounds greeted him like an old friend- one you loved but couldn't help to hate.
"Home sweet home," he muttered.
He fumbled with shaky hands at the pockets of his jacket, searching for a pack of cigarettes, and cursed when he found none. He angrily kicked at a headstone, but didn't have the strength to topple it. He pulled out his lighter, glaring at the grave marker, and flicked the Zippo open.
*FLASH*
A woman and her child, screaming as flames enveloped their house, growing nearer to the corner they were hidden in.
"You should've come out when I asked," Spike said jovially, tossing down the rest of the liquor in the brown bottle he held. Sniffing at the smell of burning skin, he shrugged and tossed the matchbook down indifferently.
*FLASH*
He blinked twice, caught off guard by that vision, and roared angrily, stuffing his lighter in his pocket.
These memories had been coming for so long that he'd gotten tired of crying like a bloody wanker and finally started getting angry. They were an annoyance, and he was tired of seeing the pain he'd inflicted.
He blinked again and stared at his hand in surprise, realizing that it hurt for some reason. The fist was bloodied and already bruising. Making a face, he looked down and saw a chunk of cement missing from the headstone. There was a pile of stone on the grass, covered with grey dust.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath.
"Over here!" a voice shouted suddenly. "I'm staking this time!"
Spike recognized that voice. He groaned angrily, putting two and two together. The sisters had heard his cry of rage and assumed someone was in trouble. Great. Just bloody great.
He hopped onto a large headstone, sighing in defeat, and waiting for them to rush into view.
"Dawn, wait up!" Buffy's voice said as the two crashed through the foliage to Spike's front, in true slayer fashion.
She crashed headfirst into her taller sister when Dawn stopped in her tracks, staring at the man on the stone.
"S-Spike?" Dawn whispered in disbelief.
"The cavalry's here!" Spike shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "Never fear, we're saved! The world is righted again!"
His arms fell limply to his sides as the two girls stared.
"Spike?" Buffy said finally. "Is that you?"
He laughed a short gruff laugh that had no humor in it. "I dunno, Slayer, I really don't know."
Dawn took a step forward, and threw off the arm Buffy held out to stop her.
"Spike," she said, and he was surprised to hear gladness in her voice.
Imagine that…gladness to see him. HIM.
"H'lo, Dawn," he said finally, warily.
"I thought you were dead!" she screamed angrily, shoving him backwards, her stake falling to the ground.
He fell off the grave, landing hard on his back, and when he got to his knees he was tackled again. Only this time, instead of being shoved, he was being embraced. Arms tightly wrapped around him, holding on tightly, making sure he couldn't pull away.
His arms still lay at his side, his eyes dull, not registering the surprise. Slowly, though, he lifted heavy limbs and encircled the thin girl, gripping her just as strong.
She was crying, he could feel the tears on his cheek as she pulled her head back to look at him.
"I thought you were dead," she sniffed.
He stood up, lifting her with him, and pushed her arms back to her sides.
"I am."
She looked confused.
Buffy stepped forward then, and grabbed Dawn's hand for support. Whether it was for her or for her sister remained to be seen.
"Spike," she said gently, lip trembling despite her will to be strong.
"Buffy," he regarded her.
"If you're dead, how are you talking to us?" Dawn broke in, crying. "You are not dead!"
He grabbed her other hand and pressed it to his chest. "Silence speaks louder than words."
She pulled her hand back, frowning.
"You're scaring her," Buffy said, staring at him.
"Look at where she lives," he said with a shrug. "It's nothing new."
*FLASH*
"Fear," Angelus said, sniffing the blood pouring from the woman's neck. "Always makes the kill sweeter."
Spike caught the half dead woman in his arms. She stirred.
"Please," she mumbled, her last words. "Please don't…"
He sank his fangs into her tender neck.
*FLASH*
"Spike?"
It was Buffy, sounding concerned. He chortled inwardly. Concerned, pff. That would happen.
He turned to her nevertheless. "Huh?"
"Where were you just then?" she asked with raised brows.
"Total space out," Dawn confirmed.
He shook his head. "What do you two want?"
"Want?" Buffy asked, now even more confused.
"Yeah, want," he repeated.
"N-nothing," Dawn said. "Are you okay, Spike?"
*FLASH*
"I think you'll enjoy this," he said sadistically, positioning the piece of wood just right. "Really, loads of fun…"
*FLASH*
He shook his head again. "What?"
Both of them were staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. He even looked over to make sure he hadn't, and burst into laughter when he realized how ridiculous he was being.
Great, now they looked shocked.
*FLASH*
He looked at Spike in shock as he realized what was about to happen.
"N-no!"
"Don't resist so much," he said softly. "It doesn't hurt so much…once your dead."
*FLASH*
He needed a few seconds to grasp the fact that he'd said that aloud, but needed only one to take off as fast as he could, leaving them behind.
Now if he could only outrun the screams.
