AGAINST DESTINY

Chapter Two : Higher And Higher

Spike sauntered into the cemetery with wings on his feet. He was free of Buffy. Whatever love he felt for the Slayer was gone. No more torture, no more pain, and no more Buffy to screw around with his head.

Tonight was the start of a good life, to make things right again, to make things the way they were suppose to be. To celebrate his freedom, the peroxide blond had planned on going to Willy's, get drunk, and maybe pound a few demons. He was going to give himself one thing he hadn't for a long time; one good day.

Suddenly, a zombified arm shot out of the damp ground and grabbed Spike's right leg.

"Bloody Hell!!" the Vampire yelled, surprised, and shook his leg to relinquish himself.

Another zombie arm came out of the earth and took hold of Spike's left leg.

The peroxide blond looked down to see what had grabbed him. "What in the bleeding Hell is this?!" he growled, annoyed and irritated at being restrained. He then looked up and saw a whole mob of zombies with railroad spikes sticking out of their heads. The mob consisted of men, women, children, and the elderly. Their faces looked vindictive, full of vengeance, hatred, and contempt. "Zombies..." he whispered.

"Burn!" a male zombie dressed in a suit hissed.

"Die!"

"Go to Hell!!"

Spike took a nervous breath though he tried to look calm. "Hey, hold on now," he said and wracked his brain for something to say. "You lot WOULDN'T want to eat my brain. You see... ah, vampire brains are REALLY bad for zombies, they are. VERY high in cholesterol. Not healthy. You should go for human brains instead. Heard of the Nerd Trio? You lot should pay them a visit. Blokes got, big, fat, juicy, intelligent brains! You..."

"SILENCE!!" a zombified, old man roared and stepped forward.

Spike recognized him as the leader and scrunched up his nose as the old man smelled like a combination of rotten meat and the dirty, uncleaned toilets at Willy's. "Heard of a bath, mate?" he asked, despite his vulnerable position.

The rotten corpse in front of him said nothing and took out a stake. "You should burn in Hell."

"Hey now, let's play nice and put the stake away, old chap," Spike told him in a warning tone. "Don't want anyone to get hurt, do we?"

"Hurt," the old man echoed and chuckled bitterly. "You deserve to hurt... for all eternity..." He raised the stake and plunged it at his heart. "Die!"

"NOOO!!" Spike cried out as he sat up from his stone sarcophagus, his makeshift bed at the moment until his burnt one was replaced. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "No..." he rasped.

He then looked around and found himself still in his crypt, which was a good sign. He put one hand over his heart to feel for any punctures, wounds, or cuts. None. Another good sign, a VERY good sign. Spike slumped forward and cradled his head in his hands.

"God... it seemed so real..." he whispered hoarsely. He hadn't had any dreams about zombies since... well, forever. For the past year and half, his dreams only consisted of himself and Buffy. "Well, at least, it wasn't about Buffy. That's a good start, innit? Even if it was about zombies," he thought.

Spike lay back down with a sigh. From his internal vampiric clock, it was three in the afternoon. He could still get a few hours of sleep till sunset. But after the nightmare, sleep was the last thing in his to-do-list. The Vampire stood up and got dressed as he always slept naked. Just soon after he tied the laces of his combat boots, the door flew open and came in the Slayer.

"Need anything, Slayer?" he asked casually.

Buffy paused and examined him for a second. Spike felt different somehow like he changed. But what he changed into exactly, she didn't know. She gazed into his piercing, sapphire blue eyes in hopes of finding answers. His eyes didn't satisfy her. The blue orbs were almost void of any emotions or feelings. There wasn't any love there, only hints of disdain and contempt.

"Slayer, you just going to look at me all day or what?" he asked, annoyed and impatient.

Buffy snapped out of her thoughts. "Warren, Andrew, and Jonathan," she stuttered.

"Yeah?" he prodded with an arched, scarred eyebrow.

The blonde woman finally managed to compose herself. "I... uh... was just thinking if you've heard anything from them. No exploding evil lint or bank robberies as of late. I was just wondering if you've heard any rumours about them or something like that."

"Don't know a bloody thing," Spike shrugged and stalked toward the door. He made a gesture with his hand for her to leave. His fingertips caught a few rays of sunlight though it went unnoticed.

Buffy felt like she got hit by a truckload of bricks on the face. "Spike being quiet and reserved? Spike being cold? Spike kicking ME out of his crypt? What has this Spike done to MY Spike? Wait. Stop. Rewind. There is no 'my Spike'. Whatever we had was finished..." she babbled on in her head.

"Slayer," he said coldly. "I've got things to do. I've got a life outside of helping you."

Buffy fell out of lala land and landed back on reality. "Oh," was her only response. She felt her knees go weak and her heart race for reasons she couldn't explain to herself. Spike just dismissed her like she was a nobody. Spike seemed different. She wanted to know what was wrong with him but the icy expression he had on his face stopped her. "He's just probably all bad moody because of last night," she tried to convince herself mentally. With all the effort and strength she could muster, she marched out of his crypt without another word.

Spike watched her leave and finally realized he had stuck his fingertips out in the sunlight for the past few minutes. With some panic, he snatched his fingers away and examined them for any damage. They were burn and sizzle free. A frown crossed his features. "What the bloody Hell?" he muttered under his breath.

Tentatively, he reached out into the light and nothing happened. "Hmm..." Feeling more confident and brave now, he stepped out of his crypt and into the broad daylight. For a moment, he shielded his sapphire blue eyes from the blinding rays of the sun and allowed them to adjust. It felt awkward leaving the safety and comfort of the shadows and being out in the light. The graveyard seemed so different like it was another place. It didn't scream 'Death' or 'beware of demons' like it always did as soon as night fell.

His heart pounded heavily against his chest as if he expected himself to catch flames at any moment. Wait. Pounding. He could hear his heart pounding and blood rush through his veins with his vampire hearing.

"What the... how? Why? How?" Spike stuttered and went back to his crypt abruptly.

Spike paced around while his mind tried to come up with answers for his questions. "Okay... I don't burn under the sunlight, got a pulse... and... and, oh God, I feel warm!! And this only happened after the spell... THE SPELL!!!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

He stopped at his tracks and punched the wall. "I'm a bleeding mortal human!! NO WAY!! I can't be a fu..." He gave the wall a kick this time. He hated being human or the thought of him being human. It reminded him of William. William was a loser who wrote bloody awful poetry. William was a nobody who everybody picked on. William was a geek who couldn't score with any woman. William was WEAK. He didn't want to remember William and the painful memories that came with him. They were all better off buried and untouched.

He loved being a vampire. He loved being Spike. Spike was a Master vampire who could do more than write poetry. Spike killed two Slayers and struck fear into most demons' hearts. Spike was a woman magnet at any bar or club. Spike was strong and was a celebrity in the demon community.

"Magicks!! Bloody, sodding, bleeding MAGICKS!!" he roared and punched the wall again. "Bloody mojo did more than it was suppose to. I should've known better... bugger." Spike sat down with his back against the wall. He let out a heavy sigh and laughed bitterly. Human. He hated the thought of becoming one. It reminded him of his painful memories. On the bright side, he didn't love Buffy anymore and his vampire powers still seemed to be intact.

An idea then struck him. He willed for his demon visage to come out but it didn't. Another sigh came with frustrated growling afterward. Whatever spell he had casted on himself was a double edged sword. Or maybe it just backfired. It didn't really matter what happened because he was going to have a nice little chat with Anya... except she would ask too much questions. He didn't want any of the Scoobies to find out what he had done to himself. They would ridicule him for it like they always did whenever they had the chance, like the time they discovered he had been chipped.

What he needed was outside help... from the demon world. But the only demon he knew that was experienced with Magicks was Doc and he was rotting in Hell with Glory and her band of ugly minions.

"There has to be a demon that could help me. Clem should know someone," he told himself assuredly and let stress and frustration blanket him with sleep.

***

Spike left his crypt as soon as darkness loomed over Sunnydale. He stalked across the graveyard with predatory grace while his black leather trench coat swayed in the breeze with each step he took. A cocky smirk crept onto his lips as he heard scampering noises around him. "That's right, baby, be afraid... very afraid," he thought sinisterly. Whatever demons were around him could pick up his anger and were avoiding him like the plague.

Spike was very well known in the demon community with his mass murderings in the past century and having killed two Slayers. Though most demons considered him a traitor for siding with Buffy, most of them still feared him for he was still a force to be reckoned with and even more so in a very bad mood. Rule number one; don't mess with the Big Bad, just don't. However, there were still those who were foolish enough to try and challenge him... kill the Slayer of Slayers and become famous. But whatever idiots that tried to kill him in the past always ended up dead themselves.

The peroxide blond Vampire or Ex-Vampire rather finally reached Willy's and entered the bar. He went straight to the back room and found Clem with his poker buddies.

"Hey there, Spike!" Clem greeted with a friendly smile.

"Clem," Spike nodded curtly.

"You going to play?" the floppy eared one asked.

"Count me out. Say, heard of any demon warlock come into town?" the Ex-Vampire inquired.

Clem pondered for a moment. "Yeah... only one. I think I might have seen him drinking here when I came in. Heard he's young but real good though. Don't know what kind of demon he is but he looks human and get this; he wears a lot of black."

"Really?" Spike grinned. "Well, I'm going to go and find this bloke. Thanks for the info, mate." With that, he turned around and went to the lounge room. Through the crowd of demons, he saw the person he had been searching for. He stood still for awhile and studied the young man to see if he could take him if he chose to be uncooperative.

The young man sat alone in a table at a corner while he played a game of solitaire. He wore a long, black leather duster that went past his knees. Underneath the duster was a thin, black hooded sweater, with the hood stuck out and hung over the coat instead of tucked under it. He wore a pair of black, baggy pants and a pair of black running shoes. His half inch short, raven black hair was tousled though a few bangs hung over his forehead. He had dark brown eyes, which seemed void of any emotions and feelings at the moment. The young man seemed to be five foot ten tall with a lean body frame and a European complexion.

While Spike had been studying the warlock, two vampires, game faces on, had approached the young man and seemed to be arguing over something now.

"Look, kid, we'll drain you dry if you don't perform that spell for us," the first vampire threatened.

The young man took a small gulp from his bottle of Smirnoff Ice and stood up. Quickly, he slugged the first one on the face and sent him flying to the wall. "One, I'm NOT a 'kid', I'm eighteen and my name is Darius." Darius turned to the second vampire. "And two, I don't do spells for free." His dark brown eyes flashed black for a second and before the vampire knew it, an invisible force threw him across the room.

Darius shook his head while he shoved his deck of cards into one of his duster's inside pockets, having the feeling that his night had been ruined. He left the bar through the back door and went into the alley. The young man tensed as he sensed a presence behind him and turned around to find Spike grinning and clapping his hands.

"Great show back there, mate." Spike smirked evilly and stalked forward.

"What do you want?" Darius asked in a casual tone and crossed his arms over his chest.

Spike was now in front of him and put his hands in the front pockets of his coat. "Need you to check a mojo for me."

"It'll cost you..."

"Nothing!" Spike cut him off when he grabbed his neck and slammed him against the wall. To his surprise, Darius didn't struggle against his grip and his eyes were calm. There was no fear or uneasiness, just nothingness, which annoyed the Ex-Vampire a bit. He loved it when he struck fear into someone, it made things more fun.

"So, what kind of spell is it?" Darius spoke up.

Spike put him down. "Follow me. Can't do this here." He gave him an icy and menacing glare. "Try to hightail it and you'll find yourself in a whole world of pain," he warned and started forward.

Darius frowned at the peroxide blond and followed him back to his crypt.

***

Buffy Summers sat down on her sofa while she watched 'Friends' on TV but not really watching it as her mind was somewhere else. She didn't even notice Dawn enter the house through the front door.

"Buffy! I'm home!!" Dawn called out and found her big sister on the couch. "Oh, there you are." The brunette bounced happily into the living room and took a seat next to her. She noticed the dazed look on Buffy's face and waved her hand in front of her. "Hello? Anyone there? Earth to Buffy?"

The Slayer was finally aware of the Key's presence. "Um, Dawn, hey." She smiled, a bit sheepishly.

"Hey yourself." Dawn smiled back.

"How did your school project with Janice go?" Buffy asked.

"It went good. We got about half of it done," Dawn answered with a shrug. "How about you? How was your afternoon? You've been pretty out of it since I got home from school."

"Oh, I-I'm just tired... y-you know, it's just one of THOSE days," Buffy replied with faked laughter.

"Uh-huh," Dawn nodded and pretended to believe her. She had to find out what was wrong with her big sister, it was her job after all, that and to annoy her by wearing her clothes without permission. She had an idea. "Hey Buffy, I get out of school early tomorrow... so you mind if I hang around Spike? You and Willow won't be here when I get home." Dawn noticed Buffy tense up at the mention of Spike's name. "I'm sooo smart AND evil," she squealed in her head and smiled.

"S-Spike?" Buffy stammered.

"Yeah. Haven't seen him for awhile. He's my friend, you know." Her smile widened. "So, can I go to Spike's, pleeeaaassee? I'll be home before sunset," she pleaded sweetly and with matching puppy dog eyes.

A look of discomfort crossed Buffy's features upon hearing Spike's name again. "S-sure. You can go. But I'm coming to get you if you're not home by five."

"Fair enough. Thanks Buffy!" Dawn sat closer to her and gave her a hug.

Buffy leaned into her sister's embrace. It was so comforting, just what she needed after Spike completely threw her out of his crypt. Just then, the front door opened and Willow came in.

"Hey Willow," the Summers girls greeted.

"Hey guys," the Witch replied. "Oh, and I brought dinner, Chinese." She held out a plastic bag with take-out boxes in it.

"Oooh. Haven't had Chinese for awhile. Did you get fried rice? The one that's all brown with itty bitty pieces of ham and peas?" Dawn asked.

"You bet. So let's make with the eating," Willow grinned.

Buffy got up. "You two go ahead. I'm going to go outside... to... patrol, yeah, patrol."

Dawn laughed inwardly. "She's sooo going to see Spike tonight," she thought.

Willow looked confused. "Do you want to wait for us? We could help you. W-we could be bait to draw out vampires or something and then you can go kill them."

Buffy quickly shook her head. "N-no! I-I can handle it. Just make sure you save some for me, okay?" With that said, she went to her room to wear slaying clothes and grab some stakes.

Buffy felt guilty for leaving her friends just like that. But she just HAD to see Spike and figure out what was wrong with him or what was different about him. Why did it bother her so much that Spike was so cold to her was unknown. Why was she doing what she was doing went unanswered. There was one thing she was sure of though; the cold, emotionless, and disdainful look that the Vampire had given her earlier was discomforting and made her uneasy.

The two of them had been on pretty civil terms since the break up. So why would Spike look at her with contempt now? After all, she only accused him of spying on her with a camera and that can't be the reason for his behaviour, can it? She suddenly felt the need to apologize to him and tell him it was Warren and his friends all along.

The tiny blonde woman finally got dressed for her 'patrol' and shoved a few stakes into her pockets. Satisfied with herself and feeling fully armed, Buffy left her house and headed for the cemetery.

***

"Uh... nice place," Darius said awkwardly as Spike allowed him into his crypt. They had been pretty quiet since they left the alley and felt the need to break the silence.

Spike stalked toward the TV and grabbed the little blue card that lay on top of it. He chucked the card at Darius nonchalantly. "That's the spell I used on myself. Read it. Tell me what it does."

Darius caught it and read the incantation under his breath. "Two things. One, this looks like a love spell of some sort." He noticed the what-are-you-talking-about look on Spike's face when he mentioned 'love spell'. "I know because it involves Eros, the God of Love."

The blond tried to look calm and casual. "Know EXACTLY what it does?"

"Um, sort of... no. It's in Al Bhed and I can't read the language." Darius tossed the card back to him.

"Don't care what language it's in!! Just reverse the mojo and you can walk out of here!!" Spike snarled.

"Fine," Darius sighed and reached inside his trench coat. He took out a bottle with blue powder in it. He removed the cap and marked a circle on the floor.

Spike strode toward the eighteen year old and stood opposite of him.

The black haired teenager pulled out two green leaves with silver markings from his pocket and set them at the middle of the ring. "Got a lighter?"

The Ex-Vampire nodded and set the leaves on fire.

When the leaves created a steady line of blue smoke, Darius chanted, "Let the spell be ended!" As soon as he mentioned 'ended', the small pile of burnt material made sizzling noises and blue sparks flew out of the smoke. "Watch out!! It's going to explode!!"

The two black clad men jumped away before the spell made a small explosion. Smoke soon covered the crypt and breathing became an issue. The leather wearing duo rushed toward the door and stood outside to let the smoke clear out.

"What the bloody Hell happened?!" Spike demanded.

"It didn't work!! The spell you used probably can't be reversed," Darius supplied with a cough. "Just what kind of love spell was it anyway?"

"Tell anyone about this and I swear I'll rip your arms off!!" Spike growled and said in a lower tone, "it was a numbing spell."

"Numbing spell? Where are the ingredients? Knowing what the incantation is and with the ingredients, I might come up with a counter spell."

"Gone. Used it all up. Bloody mojo was suppose to make me stop loving her..." the Ex-Vampire trailed off.

The young man urged him to go on. "Yeah?"

"It worked. But did more than that. Sunlight doesn't burn, got heart beats, the whole humanity bit."

"Maybe you said a word wrong... but it's kind of hopeless knowing which one with you and me not being able to read Al Bhed and all. Or maybe you used too much ingredients. Spells do go boom when you use too much stuff, you know. It could also be because you're a vampire. A lot of love spells are intended for humans. Even then, they're not one hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed. Shouldn't really mess with things like emotions, memories, or things like that," Darius explained.

Spike remembered Willow's screwed up memory spell. 'Randy Giles' was something that would stay with him for awhile. The peroxide blond felt like kicking himself right at that moment. He knew Magicks was dangerous. He should have known there would be consequences.

Darius noticed the look of regret on Spike. "If I could, I'd turn you back into a vampire. But I'm not really into those kinds of Magicks. I specialize in spells that summon demons. I'm a Demoner. What are you going to do now? Are you going to let someone sire you?"

"No," he said simply. Spike knew for a fact that he wouldn't go back begging to a vampire to be sired. It would be too humiliating on his part. He could just see it as if it was written on the front page of the newspaper; Spike, William the Bloody, gone human from a screwed up numbing spell.

The Demoner said nothing and gave Spike somewhat of a sympathetic look. He just allowed him to absorb the news that the spell couldn't be reversed.

"Why must everything I do go wrong?!! Nothing ever goes the way I want it to. Why?!!" he asked himself mentally and felt like the most miserable creature in the planet.

"It's because you deserved it!"

"You deserve to die!!"

"Go to Hell!"

"Burn for all eternity!!"

Spike closed his eyes and covered his ears as voices in his mind mocked and teased him. "What in the bleeding Hell is happening to me?!"

"Tell my mother I'm sorry."

"It wasn't enough that you almost drained me... but you had to shove a railroad spike into my head!!"

"My baby, oh God!! What have you done to her?!!"

"Please let me go!! Please..."

The voices soon came with images. Images of the people he killed, how he killed them, and how much mercy they begged for before they met their deaths. Guilt and remorse followed afterward and threatened to drive him into the brink of insanity. Spike sank on the ground on his knees and shook his head in an attempt to clear it. "No! No!! NOO!!!" he screamed.

Darius took a step back. "Spike?"

"Can't let them win... can't let them do this to me..." Spike felt like his whole body weighed a ton, heavy with guilt. It felt like it was in flames and he couldn't put it out. He let out a choked sob as his soul, his conscience, hit him hard with remorse and regret for the destruction and havoc he had caused in the past. It was all too much to take that Spike expected himself to explode at any moment.

"Spike? What's wrong?" Darius questioned with a frown.

"Can't let them win... can't let them take me to Hell..." he repeated the phrases in his head again and again to comfort himself. The pain subsided a bit. Spike concentrated harder and focused his thoughts on something else. "Think 'Passions... think 'Passions'..." he chanted and the guilt, remorse, voices, and images vanished. Spike stood up and let out a sigh of relief. 'They' were gone for the moment but he knew that 'they' would be back. Nothing was ever easy for him, ever. He had to keep his mind occupied so his thoughts won't drift back to 'them'. He needed something to keep himself busy. The peroxide blond turned around and ran into the shadows.

"What was happening to him?" Darius whispered to himself and went after him.

"Need a spot of violence. Nothing beats a good fight," Spike told himself and soon stopped when he felt a familiar presence around him. He saw Buffy stepped out of a bush and now walk toward him.

"Spike, hey, funny meeting you here," Buffy started while she shifted her weight from foot to foot anxiously. "You see, ah, um, I-I was looking for you and had something... important! Yeah, important, to tell you. It's about... about..." She suddenly looked away as she lost track of the speech she had mentally prepared on her way to the cemetery.

"What is it, Slayer? Got places to be, you know?" Spike asked impatiently. He silently thanked himself that he managed to look and sound casual, cocky, and cold. The spell may have cursed him with a soul and humanity but at least it still served its original purpose. Yay.

Buffy almost flinched at the tone of his voice. "It's about the camera. I was wrong about it. It was Warren's. I-I'm sorry," she told him quickly.

"Apology accepted," he nodded. He then started forward and went past Buffy.

"Spike?" Buffy called out tentatively.

He turned around to face her. "Yeah?"

"Y-you seem different somehow. Not new hair style kind of different or new clothes kind of different but the feely kind of type. Y-you feel different. W-what did you do?" she babbled on.

Spike contemplated what to say. He couldn't choose between; "Guess what, Slayer? I don't love you anymore. Did a mojo on myself, I did. And, ah, oh, I'm a human now too." or "Hey there, if it wasn't for Dawn, I'd chop your head off and mount it on my wall because, you know, I don't love you."

"Spike, tell me. I need to know," she said, her voice almost commanding and persistent.

Spike smirked evilly. "Little Slayer wants to know what's different? Well then... guess it's now or never."