Title: Alters Not
Author: silverthorned
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, creator.
Category: Spike/Buffy
Summary: Has Spike changed?
Note: I wrote this long before "Smashed."
*
"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds..."
Sonnet 116, William Shakespeare.
*
In the silent night, he knows.
It is a knowledge that is slowly destroying him, and he welcomes
it with no reservations, the cocky, sure leer on his face.
'Bring it on, baby. Kill me.'
He has been death for two, but with the third he knows he'll
never win. So he faces her with false bravado, pure bluster,
hoping she won't see what he is.
A changed man.
If she saw it, if she acknowledged it for one instant, what he
has tried to hide for years would be known, that despite the
years of carnage, he has not changed at all. His basic nature
has been lost and disregarded in expectation of no inhibitions,
of blood and remorselessness.
'Look at me, I'm not who you think I am.'
He only seems altered in their eyes, not his own. He cannot deny
or hide from what has always been there.
He finds himself straddling two worlds, a creature of the night,
fighting for the light that he can never feel. Unable to be
human, unable to be vampire.
So he falters, and tries to reach out, to embrace the only thing
that makes him feel alive, and the only thing that could possibly
be his death.
He knows he loves her.
He knows she does not love him.
He's lived long enough, seen enough to understand nothing has
changed. Once again he loves something out of reach and he
wonders why he can't learn, why he can't escape what he really
is.
William, not Spike.
'I'm dead, you know. You've killed me, Slayer. Slaughtered all
my evil, made me good.'
End.
Author: silverthorned
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, creator.
Category: Spike/Buffy
Summary: Has Spike changed?
Note: I wrote this long before "Smashed."
*
"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds..."
Sonnet 116, William Shakespeare.
*
In the silent night, he knows.
It is a knowledge that is slowly destroying him, and he welcomes
it with no reservations, the cocky, sure leer on his face.
'Bring it on, baby. Kill me.'
He has been death for two, but with the third he knows he'll
never win. So he faces her with false bravado, pure bluster,
hoping she won't see what he is.
A changed man.
If she saw it, if she acknowledged it for one instant, what he
has tried to hide for years would be known, that despite the
years of carnage, he has not changed at all. His basic nature
has been lost and disregarded in expectation of no inhibitions,
of blood and remorselessness.
'Look at me, I'm not who you think I am.'
He only seems altered in their eyes, not his own. He cannot deny
or hide from what has always been there.
He finds himself straddling two worlds, a creature of the night,
fighting for the light that he can never feel. Unable to be
human, unable to be vampire.
So he falters, and tries to reach out, to embrace the only thing
that makes him feel alive, and the only thing that could possibly
be his death.
He knows he loves her.
He knows she does not love him.
He's lived long enough, seen enough to understand nothing has
changed. Once again he loves something out of reach and he
wonders why he can't learn, why he can't escape what he really
is.
William, not Spike.
'I'm dead, you know. You've killed me, Slayer. Slaughtered all
my evil, made me good.'
End.