Hi.
I'm new to Buffy fic, and for those of you who are familiar with my Enterprise and The Dead Zone Fic, I'm really sorry! I know I need to continue on with those two fics, but I've been disappointed in Enterprise lately, and The Dead Zone season premiere isn't until January. Basically, I've lost the impetus to continue until good things start happening with the shows. I think I need to be obsessed with a show before I can write about it happily.
Consequently, this bit of BTVS fic has come to be. I'm completely obsessed with the show, and since we have to wait until January 7th to find out what happens to poor Spike, I decided to write a short piece of Spike angst to tie me over. I'm not sure if I will write more, but January 7th seems so far away, and that might make me want to continue this fic.
BTVS fic is a bit intimidating for me to write since there are so many good fics out there and since the writing on the show is quite impressive. Consequently, I apologize for any inconsistencies in character, plot, or grammar. If you have any comments, feel free to leave feedback, but no flames (please!).
Enjoy,
Emrys
Beyond Pain
Rated PG Part 1/1?
Spike was beyond voicing his pain. In fact, if he were able to form a coherent thought, he would have described himself as feeling a bit dusty. He wasn't aware of it, but sometimes, when she came to play with her new toy, he actually begged for the stake that would turn him completely to dust. His lips would form the silent words that issued up from his fractured larynx, but since they were whispered noiselessly during the worst parts of his torture, he was never conscious of them.
The single point of his current existence, the only thing on which he was permitted to focus, was her presence. He could no longer see clearly, but he knew she and her ferocious vampire pet were near when the cavern took on a black and slippery feel. And now, he could hear only out of one of his ears (the eardrum of the other had been shattered long ago), but somehow she made certain that he could listen to her clearly. After all, what fun would it be for her if it were impossible for her plaything to hear her taunts?
He hated her but wasn't allowed to feel that emotion. The old Spike, the one who was before this encounter of blood and pain and dust would have jeered this egotistical thing. He would have laughed at the typical devices she used to try winning her minion back over. Why did she think fear and pain would persuade him when Buffy had said that she believed in him? How could fear compare to those words spoken by the one person of his entire mortal and immortal lives that he treasured the most?
Buffy. Spike didn't know it, but his cracked and bloodless lips drew into a faint smile at the thought of her. Buffy. When he had first fallen in love with her, he had thought it would be effortless to win the Slayer over. But that wasn't the case, and in fact he had done almost everything in the wrong way. He knew that now. Now that he had a soul. Soul-less he had found everything easy, and if it wasn't easy, a kick, a punch or a clever word usually allowed him his way. For a brief while, he thought that he had easily gained the love of the Slayer, but now he knew better. Love was not easy. For a creature bred of evil such as himself, it took work to gain the trust and respect of the Slayer. And without those two gifts, love was an impossibility. He knew that now, now that it was too late.
He felt the air thicken into that all-too-familiar black and slippery texture, and he realized that he had been thinking coherently for just a few seconds. It didn't like that. When it sensed that his thoughts had turned to Buffy, it always came and its games began again. He tried to concentrate on his hatred of it as its blurry form neared his face, but he knew his hate would break easily when it started its torture again. He was just too weak. He thought he saw it smile, and then he closed his eyes.
Spike was beyond voicing his pain.
***
Buffy followed the network of rooms and wondered if she had taken a wrong turn. How was she ever going to find Spike when the chambers of the school basement were so interconnected and complicated? She turned to look behind her, and saw nothing but blackness. Some small, child-like part of her had hoped that she would see the lights and safety of Xander's car when she turned around, and she grimaced at the hysteric nature of her thoughts.
She was afraid. So afraid that it was taking the limit of her will to keep inching forward and not to turn and run back to the illusions of security that were waiting nervously for her in Xander's car. The only time she felt safe now was when she was in the presence of her friends, and though she knew it was a false security, the distraction they provided from the constant stress of fear and anger was a welcome one.
Spike. She had to find him. She had to get him out of this place; this place that was dripping with evil and blackness and fear. She picked up her pace a bit in order to hurry the process along and was rewarded when the dim light of her flashlight struck the flickering edge of torchlight. The space ahead was occupied.
Buffy snuck a quick look inside the room, and felt such a strong wave of relief that she almost had to sit down. Spike was there, and he was alone. The only way this would work was if he was alone, because she was currently out-manned and overpowered by the strange primitive vampire that had neatly kicked her ass a week ago. She rushed into the cavern, grateful for her luck. It would be all right now, now that she had found Spike. He would help her, and by doing so her strength would be enough. It was fine now. It really was going to be..
Buffy involuntarily cried out when she saw the mess that had once been the perfect form of her vampire. Spike's was a body ravaged with lumps where broken bones tried, sometimes successfully, to push through his skin. When she noticed that he had few bruises, and that his skin was so pale that it was practically translucent, she realized that his blood had been completely drained, a condition serious for any vampire. But more alarming than any of these was the fine powdering of dust that covered his entire body. She wasn't sure what that meant, but she knew that it couldn't be good.
She moved forward, and knelt in front of his damaged face.
"Spike?"
***
Spike was conscious enough to see the blurry form in front of him, and if he had been able to, he would have gritted his teeth in the anticipation of another bout of anguish.
Stop treating me as if you were some moronic cat, and I your next tasty treat he willed with ferocity, and was proud of the clarity of his thought as well as its cajoling nature.
And then the torture started again and he was incapable of thought once more.
*** Buffy hoisted Spike's broken body into her arms and another wave of fear rushed through her as she acknowledged the lack of his weight. She considered hoisting him over her shoulders so that at least one of her arms would be free, but when his dust tumbled onto her boots she put the thought away. If she wasn't careful with this strangely fragile Spike, he would disintegrate in her arms. Not even after his bout with Glory had she seen the caustic vampire so near death. But she had already determined that Spike would recover even if it took every last thread of her own strength. All of this, every bit of torture he had experienced had been in some way connected to her. And although she was terrified for the souled vampire, and although guilt was pricking the corners of her consciousness, she also felt great pride for this creature who still managed to surprise her in his attempts at bettering himself. He had managed to withstand unimaginable trials in order to remain constant to her and to his own choices. For that, he deserved her pride, and even her respect; regardless of how he had behaved in the past.
She shifted Spike's body into a more secure position, and walked cautiously out of the room.
"Come on, Spike. We're going home."
I'm new to Buffy fic, and for those of you who are familiar with my Enterprise and The Dead Zone Fic, I'm really sorry! I know I need to continue on with those two fics, but I've been disappointed in Enterprise lately, and The Dead Zone season premiere isn't until January. Basically, I've lost the impetus to continue until good things start happening with the shows. I think I need to be obsessed with a show before I can write about it happily.
Consequently, this bit of BTVS fic has come to be. I'm completely obsessed with the show, and since we have to wait until January 7th to find out what happens to poor Spike, I decided to write a short piece of Spike angst to tie me over. I'm not sure if I will write more, but January 7th seems so far away, and that might make me want to continue this fic.
BTVS fic is a bit intimidating for me to write since there are so many good fics out there and since the writing on the show is quite impressive. Consequently, I apologize for any inconsistencies in character, plot, or grammar. If you have any comments, feel free to leave feedback, but no flames (please!).
Enjoy,
Emrys
Beyond Pain
Rated PG Part 1/1?
Spike was beyond voicing his pain. In fact, if he were able to form a coherent thought, he would have described himself as feeling a bit dusty. He wasn't aware of it, but sometimes, when she came to play with her new toy, he actually begged for the stake that would turn him completely to dust. His lips would form the silent words that issued up from his fractured larynx, but since they were whispered noiselessly during the worst parts of his torture, he was never conscious of them.
The single point of his current existence, the only thing on which he was permitted to focus, was her presence. He could no longer see clearly, but he knew she and her ferocious vampire pet were near when the cavern took on a black and slippery feel. And now, he could hear only out of one of his ears (the eardrum of the other had been shattered long ago), but somehow she made certain that he could listen to her clearly. After all, what fun would it be for her if it were impossible for her plaything to hear her taunts?
He hated her but wasn't allowed to feel that emotion. The old Spike, the one who was before this encounter of blood and pain and dust would have jeered this egotistical thing. He would have laughed at the typical devices she used to try winning her minion back over. Why did she think fear and pain would persuade him when Buffy had said that she believed in him? How could fear compare to those words spoken by the one person of his entire mortal and immortal lives that he treasured the most?
Buffy. Spike didn't know it, but his cracked and bloodless lips drew into a faint smile at the thought of her. Buffy. When he had first fallen in love with her, he had thought it would be effortless to win the Slayer over. But that wasn't the case, and in fact he had done almost everything in the wrong way. He knew that now. Now that he had a soul. Soul-less he had found everything easy, and if it wasn't easy, a kick, a punch or a clever word usually allowed him his way. For a brief while, he thought that he had easily gained the love of the Slayer, but now he knew better. Love was not easy. For a creature bred of evil such as himself, it took work to gain the trust and respect of the Slayer. And without those two gifts, love was an impossibility. He knew that now, now that it was too late.
He felt the air thicken into that all-too-familiar black and slippery texture, and he realized that he had been thinking coherently for just a few seconds. It didn't like that. When it sensed that his thoughts had turned to Buffy, it always came and its games began again. He tried to concentrate on his hatred of it as its blurry form neared his face, but he knew his hate would break easily when it started its torture again. He was just too weak. He thought he saw it smile, and then he closed his eyes.
Spike was beyond voicing his pain.
***
Buffy followed the network of rooms and wondered if she had taken a wrong turn. How was she ever going to find Spike when the chambers of the school basement were so interconnected and complicated? She turned to look behind her, and saw nothing but blackness. Some small, child-like part of her had hoped that she would see the lights and safety of Xander's car when she turned around, and she grimaced at the hysteric nature of her thoughts.
She was afraid. So afraid that it was taking the limit of her will to keep inching forward and not to turn and run back to the illusions of security that were waiting nervously for her in Xander's car. The only time she felt safe now was when she was in the presence of her friends, and though she knew it was a false security, the distraction they provided from the constant stress of fear and anger was a welcome one.
Spike. She had to find him. She had to get him out of this place; this place that was dripping with evil and blackness and fear. She picked up her pace a bit in order to hurry the process along and was rewarded when the dim light of her flashlight struck the flickering edge of torchlight. The space ahead was occupied.
Buffy snuck a quick look inside the room, and felt such a strong wave of relief that she almost had to sit down. Spike was there, and he was alone. The only way this would work was if he was alone, because she was currently out-manned and overpowered by the strange primitive vampire that had neatly kicked her ass a week ago. She rushed into the cavern, grateful for her luck. It would be all right now, now that she had found Spike. He would help her, and by doing so her strength would be enough. It was fine now. It really was going to be..
Buffy involuntarily cried out when she saw the mess that had once been the perfect form of her vampire. Spike's was a body ravaged with lumps where broken bones tried, sometimes successfully, to push through his skin. When she noticed that he had few bruises, and that his skin was so pale that it was practically translucent, she realized that his blood had been completely drained, a condition serious for any vampire. But more alarming than any of these was the fine powdering of dust that covered his entire body. She wasn't sure what that meant, but she knew that it couldn't be good.
She moved forward, and knelt in front of his damaged face.
"Spike?"
***
Spike was conscious enough to see the blurry form in front of him, and if he had been able to, he would have gritted his teeth in the anticipation of another bout of anguish.
Stop treating me as if you were some moronic cat, and I your next tasty treat he willed with ferocity, and was proud of the clarity of his thought as well as its cajoling nature.
And then the torture started again and he was incapable of thought once more.
*** Buffy hoisted Spike's broken body into her arms and another wave of fear rushed through her as she acknowledged the lack of his weight. She considered hoisting him over her shoulders so that at least one of her arms would be free, but when his dust tumbled onto her boots she put the thought away. If she wasn't careful with this strangely fragile Spike, he would disintegrate in her arms. Not even after his bout with Glory had she seen the caustic vampire so near death. But she had already determined that Spike would recover even if it took every last thread of her own strength. All of this, every bit of torture he had experienced had been in some way connected to her. And although she was terrified for the souled vampire, and although guilt was pricking the corners of her consciousness, she also felt great pride for this creature who still managed to surprise her in his attempts at bettering himself. He had managed to withstand unimaginable trials in order to remain constant to her and to his own choices. For that, he deserved her pride, and even her respect; regardless of how he had behaved in the past.
She shifted Spike's body into a more secure position, and walked cautiously out of the room.
"Come on, Spike. We're going home."