AN: I know this is an over done theme but I had to. This idea has been plauging me.
Summary: Semi AU. Spike gets his soul back and Buffy & Scoobies don't care. They still hate him etc. He can't think of anything to do and since we all know him to be suicidal, he decides to take after dear old Grandpa and let himself burn in the sun. A guy out for a late night drive finds him and they talk. Told from guy's POV.
Come My Soul To Bliss, As I Speak True
Now, I know I live California, and I know California is famed for it's amazing amount of sunlight, but some people just go to far. This was before I knew the five w's about him, but still, it's not everyday you see someone lying out on the ground at two in the morning in a remote valley lookout staring into space. He didn't look like he was sleeping or anything, just waiting patiently for the sun to come up.
This town is messed up though and when you grow up here the first thing your taught is don't go wandering off alone at night and never, ever talk to strangers, but this was one strangers story I had to hear. I walked up to him. He was sitting there on a hill facing the valley. Black worn jeans, black shirt, chipped nails with black nail polish coming off, and bleached white hair. Ahh, a punk. Those guys were always ending up in Sunnydale along with the unnatural amount of Goths.
"Waiting for the sun?" I asked as I sat down next to him. He looked passive but angry, as though I had defied him by asking him if he intended to stay there for four more hours. He didn't move a muscle. He just sat there, an unmoving figure in the night.
I waited for his reply but none came, so I sat there in silence with him. It was nice actually, listening to Californian nightlife, rethinking life and what not. We just sat there for about two hours, till he spoke with a sort of deep North Watford accent. It was just one word, one question. But damn! I wish I had asked myself this early in life.
"Why?"
I looked out and shrugged.
"I really don't know."
He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a cig. He let one hang out on his mouth in a 'I'm-too- cool-for-you' sort of way, but not on purpose, sort of looked like automatic. He pulled out a lighter and lit it. He offered me a cig. I took it and put it in the flame just before it went out. He took a long drag and didn't exhale. He then slowly blew it out though his mouth and repeated over and over and over again.
I watched with interest. He had said one word and I was instantly infatuated with the man. He was cool, evil(Like I said, I didn't know at the time, just guessed), suave, and sexy(Lets put it this way, my girlfriend will not be going within a hundred feet of him). He pulled back his head and blew a stream of smoke straight up.
"I don't see why you bloody humans love the things so much," He turned to me "It burn in you as well? It feel like someone is trying to burn you out from the inside?"
Well, this was new. Didn't really know what to say really. He had referred to humans as though he was different and I was obliged to agree with him. He was different. Definitely not human.
"Does what burn?"
"The soul man, the fucking soul. You mortals always writing poetry about it and praising it to be a work of God. If it's so dammed wonderful them why does it burn?"
He looked as though he was so confused with life that he couldn't take it anymore. And a soul? I wasn't even sure they existed till this moment. I always though it was the invention of Yeats or Joyce or someone like that who felt they needed a reason to love or hate or feel guilty.
"What exactly are you?"
For some reason this seemed to amuse him. He throw back his head a laughed. It was a cold laugh though. One you would expect a murder to use.
"Let's see now, shall we? What thing," He said 'thing' like one would talk about an object of great loathing "is a creature of the night that lives off people's life force, doesn't have a soul and is immortal?"
"Ahh" this all made sense now. He was a vampire. I should have been shocked, terrified and have run away screaming, but in truth, I would have been much more surprised if he said he was a human.
"Yeah. Exactly."
"I thought souls were supposed to be a good thing."
"So did I. And to you it most likely is. For me though." another murder's laugh "It's a living hell." He pulled out his lighter again. He was on his third cig.
"You know what I hate most about it" I glanced at him. He wasn't talking to me. I knew it and he did as well, "The guilt. The feeling that you shouldn't have just done that. I don't mind the deep loving or loathing really. I knew what the loving was like, so the loathing couldn't have been that different. I don't mind the other qualities either, but it's the guilt. It's the reason you mortals have one, the reason you don't live in huge palaces, the reason you don't kill and eat what and whom ever you want."
I nodded. He didn't see but that didn't matter, I knew what he was talking about. I hated that feeling as well.
"That's not the worse part of it though. The worst part is that you can do something like that. You can kill someone and feel nothing except satisfaction but later in the day, in the night, a flame shoots though you. It eats away at your inner being and never lets you forget it. You cry, you weep, you cut, and you try desperately to get it out but it never goes away. And that person. That singular person, haunts you for the rest of your life. It drives you mad"
I saw his trouble now. Vampires need to kill, to suck the blood of the living, but he couldn't. He couldn't do it without feeling the pain of remorse and guilt. He couldn't kill and it was slowly killing him. He suddenly turned to me.
"What's your name?"
"Alex, Alex Carlyle"
"Alex. I killed a boy named Alex once. He couldn't have been younger than you, about 20 or so, back in 1910." He took a long drag off a cig "You want to know what I did to him?"
Actually, I didn't. He wasn't scaring me, just being a little too morbid for my tastes, but I wasn't going to tell him that. He needed to vent, so I let him.
"I drained him just enough so he was weak and couldn't scream or run. Then I took a railroad spike and drove it though his hands and feet. But slowly, so he could feel it, and I took pleasure in that. I enjoyed myself. Then I tied the boy's hands behind his back, attached a rope to them, and pulled him up in a church. Do you know what that does to someone? It slowly dislocates their shoulders and twists their nerves and bones so, even if he had survived, he would have never been able to use his arms again. And the worst part. I laughed and waited in the shadows till someone found him. Dru and I waited and laughed at him and cursed him and made his last few hours worst than a hell dimension."
I nodded looking into space. That boy must have thought this man was the devil himself, come to haunt him for some low sin he had committed. He must have spent that last few hours of his life repenting ever sin he had ever committed, every little thing he'd done, hoping that if he had said his hail Mary's enough so this devil would let him go, but it never happened. The Alex in another time had been tortured and thought it was his fault. I was deeply disturbed by this revelation. My face must have shown it.
"Sorry. It's just what I was, what I am. Except not anymore. Now I'm at the bottom of the food chain, a complete reversal. Just feels weird, you know. Having a complete reversal of me. Strange isn't it? How one sentence can change your life."
I snorted. I knew the feeling. Every student does. I had a feeling though he wasn't going to tell me about a failed test.
"What was that?"
He grinned and looked over at me.
"I want to save the world"
"Doesn't seem very life ending to me."
"Well, lets see. After I said that, Angelus disappeared for the length of a bible in a hell dimension, Dru left me, I got a bloody chip in my head, I fall in love with my mortal enemy and we have loveless sex for about a year till I try to rape her and I go to Africa and a get a soul, which, it turns out doesn't make you perfect, it makes you insane so I come back expecting even the slightest amount of compassion but no, I'm a worthless blood sucking fiend who doesn't deserve the sympathy of his non-existent friends much less the Slayer.
The poor guy. One had to feel bad for him. I looked at my watch. 5:00 am. Daylight in an hour.
"Ouch"
"Yeah, but judging on my life over these past six years, a hell can't be much worse than this. So, I'm leaving. Saying goodbye for good. Never coming back. No matter what the damned Slayer says"
He stood up and walked to the end of the cliff and threw is cig down.
"So in answer, yes, you are waiting for the sun to come up."
He walked back over and looked down on my sitting form and smiled. Not exactly a sane smile but not one of those I'm-going-to-tell-you-insane-death-stories smile either.
"You waited here for four hours sitting in silence and listening to me rant on and on just to figure out why I was here?"
I thought about it and yes, he was right. I did sit here to figure out what he was doing here. I looked up.
"Yeah. I did. And judging on the time you better get inside soon. The sun should be coming up in about twenty minutes."
He nodded and started walking towards his motorcycle. He climbed on and revved it up. He was just about to shoot off but he stopped and looked around and waved.
"Thanks" he called out, just about to leave.
"What's you name?" I needed to know. Without a name, one doesn't have a identity.
"Spike." As I guessed. This name was chocked full of identity and personality. I watched him disappear and thought about it, both our questions were answered. And I now know a lot more than I did before coming around that bend. I know why we were told never to go out at night and why we couldn't talk to strangers. Why there are so many Punks and Goths living in a town with a grand total of one bar. Why I feel guilt and pain and love and hate. And now I know. I know why. Because of one word, of one sentence. That's why. And as I thought about it, I finally decided to wait for the sun in his place.
Finis
AN: You like. It's all soul having but not. There's not much brooding and I am now in love with my new creation of Alex Carlyle. Perhaps he shall reappear. Okay, well please, please, please, for the love of Samwise R&R. Thanks a bunch.
Summary: Semi AU. Spike gets his soul back and Buffy & Scoobies don't care. They still hate him etc. He can't think of anything to do and since we all know him to be suicidal, he decides to take after dear old Grandpa and let himself burn in the sun. A guy out for a late night drive finds him and they talk. Told from guy's POV.
Come My Soul To Bliss, As I Speak True
Now, I know I live California, and I know California is famed for it's amazing amount of sunlight, but some people just go to far. This was before I knew the five w's about him, but still, it's not everyday you see someone lying out on the ground at two in the morning in a remote valley lookout staring into space. He didn't look like he was sleeping or anything, just waiting patiently for the sun to come up.
This town is messed up though and when you grow up here the first thing your taught is don't go wandering off alone at night and never, ever talk to strangers, but this was one strangers story I had to hear. I walked up to him. He was sitting there on a hill facing the valley. Black worn jeans, black shirt, chipped nails with black nail polish coming off, and bleached white hair. Ahh, a punk. Those guys were always ending up in Sunnydale along with the unnatural amount of Goths.
"Waiting for the sun?" I asked as I sat down next to him. He looked passive but angry, as though I had defied him by asking him if he intended to stay there for four more hours. He didn't move a muscle. He just sat there, an unmoving figure in the night.
I waited for his reply but none came, so I sat there in silence with him. It was nice actually, listening to Californian nightlife, rethinking life and what not. We just sat there for about two hours, till he spoke with a sort of deep North Watford accent. It was just one word, one question. But damn! I wish I had asked myself this early in life.
"Why?"
I looked out and shrugged.
"I really don't know."
He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a cig. He let one hang out on his mouth in a 'I'm-too- cool-for-you' sort of way, but not on purpose, sort of looked like automatic. He pulled out a lighter and lit it. He offered me a cig. I took it and put it in the flame just before it went out. He took a long drag and didn't exhale. He then slowly blew it out though his mouth and repeated over and over and over again.
I watched with interest. He had said one word and I was instantly infatuated with the man. He was cool, evil(Like I said, I didn't know at the time, just guessed), suave, and sexy(Lets put it this way, my girlfriend will not be going within a hundred feet of him). He pulled back his head and blew a stream of smoke straight up.
"I don't see why you bloody humans love the things so much," He turned to me "It burn in you as well? It feel like someone is trying to burn you out from the inside?"
Well, this was new. Didn't really know what to say really. He had referred to humans as though he was different and I was obliged to agree with him. He was different. Definitely not human.
"Does what burn?"
"The soul man, the fucking soul. You mortals always writing poetry about it and praising it to be a work of God. If it's so dammed wonderful them why does it burn?"
He looked as though he was so confused with life that he couldn't take it anymore. And a soul? I wasn't even sure they existed till this moment. I always though it was the invention of Yeats or Joyce or someone like that who felt they needed a reason to love or hate or feel guilty.
"What exactly are you?"
For some reason this seemed to amuse him. He throw back his head a laughed. It was a cold laugh though. One you would expect a murder to use.
"Let's see now, shall we? What thing," He said 'thing' like one would talk about an object of great loathing "is a creature of the night that lives off people's life force, doesn't have a soul and is immortal?"
"Ahh" this all made sense now. He was a vampire. I should have been shocked, terrified and have run away screaming, but in truth, I would have been much more surprised if he said he was a human.
"Yeah. Exactly."
"I thought souls were supposed to be a good thing."
"So did I. And to you it most likely is. For me though." another murder's laugh "It's a living hell." He pulled out his lighter again. He was on his third cig.
"You know what I hate most about it" I glanced at him. He wasn't talking to me. I knew it and he did as well, "The guilt. The feeling that you shouldn't have just done that. I don't mind the deep loving or loathing really. I knew what the loving was like, so the loathing couldn't have been that different. I don't mind the other qualities either, but it's the guilt. It's the reason you mortals have one, the reason you don't live in huge palaces, the reason you don't kill and eat what and whom ever you want."
I nodded. He didn't see but that didn't matter, I knew what he was talking about. I hated that feeling as well.
"That's not the worse part of it though. The worst part is that you can do something like that. You can kill someone and feel nothing except satisfaction but later in the day, in the night, a flame shoots though you. It eats away at your inner being and never lets you forget it. You cry, you weep, you cut, and you try desperately to get it out but it never goes away. And that person. That singular person, haunts you for the rest of your life. It drives you mad"
I saw his trouble now. Vampires need to kill, to suck the blood of the living, but he couldn't. He couldn't do it without feeling the pain of remorse and guilt. He couldn't kill and it was slowly killing him. He suddenly turned to me.
"What's your name?"
"Alex, Alex Carlyle"
"Alex. I killed a boy named Alex once. He couldn't have been younger than you, about 20 or so, back in 1910." He took a long drag off a cig "You want to know what I did to him?"
Actually, I didn't. He wasn't scaring me, just being a little too morbid for my tastes, but I wasn't going to tell him that. He needed to vent, so I let him.
"I drained him just enough so he was weak and couldn't scream or run. Then I took a railroad spike and drove it though his hands and feet. But slowly, so he could feel it, and I took pleasure in that. I enjoyed myself. Then I tied the boy's hands behind his back, attached a rope to them, and pulled him up in a church. Do you know what that does to someone? It slowly dislocates their shoulders and twists their nerves and bones so, even if he had survived, he would have never been able to use his arms again. And the worst part. I laughed and waited in the shadows till someone found him. Dru and I waited and laughed at him and cursed him and made his last few hours worst than a hell dimension."
I nodded looking into space. That boy must have thought this man was the devil himself, come to haunt him for some low sin he had committed. He must have spent that last few hours of his life repenting ever sin he had ever committed, every little thing he'd done, hoping that if he had said his hail Mary's enough so this devil would let him go, but it never happened. The Alex in another time had been tortured and thought it was his fault. I was deeply disturbed by this revelation. My face must have shown it.
"Sorry. It's just what I was, what I am. Except not anymore. Now I'm at the bottom of the food chain, a complete reversal. Just feels weird, you know. Having a complete reversal of me. Strange isn't it? How one sentence can change your life."
I snorted. I knew the feeling. Every student does. I had a feeling though he wasn't going to tell me about a failed test.
"What was that?"
He grinned and looked over at me.
"I want to save the world"
"Doesn't seem very life ending to me."
"Well, lets see. After I said that, Angelus disappeared for the length of a bible in a hell dimension, Dru left me, I got a bloody chip in my head, I fall in love with my mortal enemy and we have loveless sex for about a year till I try to rape her and I go to Africa and a get a soul, which, it turns out doesn't make you perfect, it makes you insane so I come back expecting even the slightest amount of compassion but no, I'm a worthless blood sucking fiend who doesn't deserve the sympathy of his non-existent friends much less the Slayer.
The poor guy. One had to feel bad for him. I looked at my watch. 5:00 am. Daylight in an hour.
"Ouch"
"Yeah, but judging on my life over these past six years, a hell can't be much worse than this. So, I'm leaving. Saying goodbye for good. Never coming back. No matter what the damned Slayer says"
He stood up and walked to the end of the cliff and threw is cig down.
"So in answer, yes, you are waiting for the sun to come up."
He walked back over and looked down on my sitting form and smiled. Not exactly a sane smile but not one of those I'm-going-to-tell-you-insane-death-stories smile either.
"You waited here for four hours sitting in silence and listening to me rant on and on just to figure out why I was here?"
I thought about it and yes, he was right. I did sit here to figure out what he was doing here. I looked up.
"Yeah. I did. And judging on the time you better get inside soon. The sun should be coming up in about twenty minutes."
He nodded and started walking towards his motorcycle. He climbed on and revved it up. He was just about to shoot off but he stopped and looked around and waved.
"Thanks" he called out, just about to leave.
"What's you name?" I needed to know. Without a name, one doesn't have a identity.
"Spike." As I guessed. This name was chocked full of identity and personality. I watched him disappear and thought about it, both our questions were answered. And I now know a lot more than I did before coming around that bend. I know why we were told never to go out at night and why we couldn't talk to strangers. Why there are so many Punks and Goths living in a town with a grand total of one bar. Why I feel guilt and pain and love and hate. And now I know. I know why. Because of one word, of one sentence. That's why. And as I thought about it, I finally decided to wait for the sun in his place.
Finis
AN: You like. It's all soul having but not. There's not much brooding and I am now in love with my new creation of Alex Carlyle. Perhaps he shall reappear. Okay, well please, please, please, for the love of Samwise R&R. Thanks a bunch.