SOUL by Konnie
A/N: this is the revised version. Unless someone comes with a list of things to change, it doesn't get any better than this; at least until I don't have anything else to work on. The timeline is slightly off. This is because it was written during early season seven (those were the episodes I was watching at the time), but with spoilers for the late s7. It's a mess, I know.
Enjoy!
The dark. that's where he belonged. Soul or not soul. That's where he had
retreated to after Willow broke the news to him. She didn't want to tell
him, he'd heard it in her voice. He wished she hadn't. But apparently Buffy
thought he should know; that maybe he could help.
Why would he?
What he wanted was to break something. More like stake someone.
"A soul," he muttered between gritted teeth, "The bastard got himself a
soul."
He wasn't really sure why it made him so mad. By the looks of it, Spike's
soul didn't come with a "happiness" closure. Willow mentioned he'd earned it.
Fought for it, even. So, yeah, that bugged him. But that couldn't be it. He wasn't *that*
petty. Yet the thought of Spike's soul not being a curse made him angry beyond
reason.
"Son of a bitch."
What was it with him and his "family", anyway? Darla he could understand,
sort of. She'd been his sire, his partner and his lover. Drusilla, well... He
felt mostly guilt towards her, and she was his childe. But Spike?
He'd always made him furious, bothered him deep down in his gut. Yeah,
sure, bleach-boy was utterly annoying, there was no denying that. But that
wasn't it.
Ever since Angelus' days, Spike had rose a kind of rage in him he didn't
even have for the worst of his enemies.
"You know why that is, Angelus?" came a female voice from behind him. One
he knew all too well, and would have made his blood run cold if it hadn't
been a little too late for that.
Angel spun around, eyes big as saucers, lost for words as he stared at the
blond, icy woman.
"Well, that's rude. I don't even get a hello?" she mocked him. "Anyway, I
just had to tell you, you know? Seeing how blind you are regarding that joke of
a vampire might have been fun the first century or so, now it's just dull."
Angel wanted to say something, to ask why and how she was there, but he only
managed one word.
"Darla..."
"Yes, dear. The one and only." She smiled wistfully. "I've missed
you....Well, not *you*" she motioned with her hands with a disgusted look. "Not what
you've become, but what you truly are. We were so good together. But you had to
turn Drusilla. I could have accepted her. She was, I don't know, amusing. But
then you had to let her turn him. What were you thinking, anyway? Wasn't it
obvious? That she'd pick a soul as pure as hers had been, to turn? There's a reason
why we vampires are selective. It's not demonic bigotry." Angel shook his
head. He didn't quite know what she meant, but he wasn't liking the road she was
taking.
"What are you talking about? Whoever Spike was before he was turned, he's
not him anymore. Or at least he wasn't. His soul..." Darla cut him off, laughing.
"Oh, Angel, don't be so dense," she patronized him. "What is a *soul*
anyway?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean exactly what I've said. Humans, they have souls, and they can be
as evil as we are, if not worse. Our soul is certainly not our spirit. When we're
turned, we don't become zombies. We remain the same, in a way. Our essence
remains intact."
"No, it doesn't, we...don't." Angel said sternly. "We become vicious,
heartless."
"Because we want to. Because we can. We know the difference between right
and wrong, we just don't care. And if you are honest with yourself, you'll
admit you didn't care *before* you were turned." she said knowingly, and Angel
lowered his gaze. "Remember James and Elizabeth, Angel? Remember how much you loathed them because the loved each other?" Angel nodded. He remembered, alright. "Let me tell you something, Angel. Vampires only choose two types of human to
turn. The most common ones are the sheep. The kind of people who don't question
their existence and just go with the flow. James didn't bother you as much as
Spike does, because he was that kind of man. I'm surprised he lived as long as
he did. Those are usually slayer's bate. Then they're people like us. Who've
forgotten they have a soul even before they loose it. Turning us is just the little
push on the wrong direction. And then there's Spike. I'm not even sure if
there's another one like him. Dru doesn't count. You took that away from her."
Angel winced. "But Spike...William, he was so full of love and compassion. He
was so pure. Too good even for your average human. And you could see it, couldn't
you? Right from the start. From the day he asked us if he could turn his
mother. You saw he was different, didn't you?"
"No!" Angel cried frustrated. "He wasn't any different from me. He's
killed as many people, he's as evil as I...as I was."
"Yes, he was a killer, because we were killers. And as much as he'd like
to deny it, William was never meant to be alone. We were his family. At the time
he was turned, he was hurt. He acted out of a sense revenge. Funny how he managed
to make a reputation out of a few aristocrats. The boy certainly likes to
brag. But he wasn't vicious. He'd always preferred a rival rather than a victim.
That's why he got so obsessed with the slayer. And you hated it. How loyal he
was, even thought we would have left him to die any day. How much he loved Dru, and
all that he was willing to do for her. You knew it was a matter of time before
his nature got the better of him and he returned to the light. And the little
humanity you had left was jealous of him. You still are." Angel laughed
humourlessly.
"Jealous?! Have you lost your mind? He's pathetic! He's a neutered vampire
with a bad attitude!"
"He's free. He feels and loves completely, incorruptly. He has never let
anyone label him, not even as a bad guy. He saw the whole
"turning-into-a-vampire" thing as a chance to stop being walked over by everyone. He did become a "bad" guy, of course, but the good was still in him. He was still free to make that choice. He only needed a reason, not a soul."
Angel was enraged. He knew she was right; not that he was willing to admit
it, not even to himself. But it still angered him more than he was before.
"So the soul doesn't matter?! All the pain and guilt I feel is a figment
of my imagination?!"
Darla looked at him, pitifully.
"The soul put you in touch with your humanity. When you were human, you
ignored it. But after more than a hundred years without one, you couldn't help but
to notice it once you had it back. It made you see yourself in your victims.
Feel what they felt. Spike already saw humans as equals; he doesn't have that
dilemma."
"Then why is he crazy now if it's not guilt?! Huh? Tell me!" he spat,
ready to punch her in the face, and kill her yet again.
"That, dear, I can't tell you." She smiled and the darkness in her
expression sent shivers down Angel's back. Then it hit him.
"You are not Darla, are you?" he said in a whisper.
"Sure I am. Who else could I be?" she said sarcastically. Angel stared at
her for a few moments, his mind working at a thousand miles an hour.
"I know you, don't I?" he asked finally, frowning.
She ignored his question and sighed.
"I have to go now. Send my love to our son. He's growing up to be such a
nice boy." the coldness in her voice startled him, but he still needed to know
something.
"Wait...I wanna ask you something." he asked hastily. She faked surprise.
"What is it, dear?"
"What was his reason? Why did he got his soul back?" her smile widened,
and he knew he wasn't going to like the answer.
"He felt guilty after hurting someone he loves. In all honesty, he was
looking for a way to kill her. She did use him as a whore, after all. But he
changed his mind mid way."
"Who?" he asked, fearing the answer he thought he already knew.
"The slayer, of course. There's another girl I'm starting to like. She and
her friends were quite a surprise. I don't trust them to be useful for long,
though."
Angel had only blinked, and she was gone. The rage inside him was
threatening to make him lose his mind. Or maybe it had already done it. He wasn't so
sure.
He stormed out of his room, bumping into Fred.
"Angel!" she laughed nervously. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"
"To see an old friend," he muttered without even looking at her.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"He said you'd come. You said you'd come. Or was it me? It lets me know
things, lets me know how I have to pay. You'll do your job. You know what I am,
what I've done..."
The blonde vampire kept mumbling to himself, curled up in a ball on a dark
corner of the school basement. Angel stared down at him silently. He
clenched his stake tighter, taking a deep, unnecessary breath to steady himself.
Maybe it had been the drive, or the pathetic sight in front of him, but he wasn't
so sure about doing this anymore. He wished for a moment he'd told someone he was
coming. At least that would have stopped him for sure.
"Spike..." he said in a low voice.
"I hurt you too, didn't I? 'Course I did. I always hurt the ones I care
about. Should have warned me though, peaches. Should've told me about the voices;
about the burn. It always burns."
"Spike..." he repeated a little louder, but the other vampire didn't look
at him.
"Shut up!!" Spike yelled, making Angel jump "I'm not like him! I'm not!"
Angel sighed. It might have sounded like an insult coming from Spike's mouth. He
knew he was talking about him. But the pained expression and the shame on
Spike's face was all he needed to forget about his intentions on that basement.
"No, you're not like me, William," he said softly. Spike finally looked at
him.
"Not William. Not a man. A monster. I hurt her, I hurt you, I hurt me, I
hurt."
Angel kneeled down next to him. He realised now he'd been played. That
he'd almost gone through with killing Spike solely out of a century old
inferiority complex. He also knew that Darla, or whoever that was, had neglected to
mention another characteristic that came with having a soul. He could grow; learn
from his mistakes.
He placed a hand on Spike's shoulder, comforting him.
"William, you're a good man. Don't listen to the voices. You'll be ok."
Spike stared at him and Angel saw the sanity returning to his eyes for a
brief moment.
"Thank you," he whispered, and as fast as he'd regained his mind, he'd
lost it. "But she'll never forgive me, she shouldn't. I hurt her. I hurt the
girl..."
Angel sighed again and stood up, leaving his grandchilde to his ramblings.
He only hoped Buffy would see what he'd seen. That she'd realise she was
Spike's soul. And that she'd use her own soul and stopped being "useful".
THE END.-
A/N: this is the revised version. Unless someone comes with a list of things to change, it doesn't get any better than this; at least until I don't have anything else to work on. The timeline is slightly off. This is because it was written during early season seven (those were the episodes I was watching at the time), but with spoilers for the late s7. It's a mess, I know.
Enjoy!
The dark. that's where he belonged. Soul or not soul. That's where he had
retreated to after Willow broke the news to him. She didn't want to tell
him, he'd heard it in her voice. He wished she hadn't. But apparently Buffy
thought he should know; that maybe he could help.
Why would he?
What he wanted was to break something. More like stake someone.
"A soul," he muttered between gritted teeth, "The bastard got himself a
soul."
He wasn't really sure why it made him so mad. By the looks of it, Spike's
soul didn't come with a "happiness" closure. Willow mentioned he'd earned it.
Fought for it, even. So, yeah, that bugged him. But that couldn't be it. He wasn't *that*
petty. Yet the thought of Spike's soul not being a curse made him angry beyond
reason.
"Son of a bitch."
What was it with him and his "family", anyway? Darla he could understand,
sort of. She'd been his sire, his partner and his lover. Drusilla, well... He
felt mostly guilt towards her, and she was his childe. But Spike?
He'd always made him furious, bothered him deep down in his gut. Yeah,
sure, bleach-boy was utterly annoying, there was no denying that. But that
wasn't it.
Ever since Angelus' days, Spike had rose a kind of rage in him he didn't
even have for the worst of his enemies.
"You know why that is, Angelus?" came a female voice from behind him. One
he knew all too well, and would have made his blood run cold if it hadn't
been a little too late for that.
Angel spun around, eyes big as saucers, lost for words as he stared at the
blond, icy woman.
"Well, that's rude. I don't even get a hello?" she mocked him. "Anyway, I
just had to tell you, you know? Seeing how blind you are regarding that joke of
a vampire might have been fun the first century or so, now it's just dull."
Angel wanted to say something, to ask why and how she was there, but he only
managed one word.
"Darla..."
"Yes, dear. The one and only." She smiled wistfully. "I've missed
you....Well, not *you*" she motioned with her hands with a disgusted look. "Not what
you've become, but what you truly are. We were so good together. But you had to
turn Drusilla. I could have accepted her. She was, I don't know, amusing. But
then you had to let her turn him. What were you thinking, anyway? Wasn't it
obvious? That she'd pick a soul as pure as hers had been, to turn? There's a reason
why we vampires are selective. It's not demonic bigotry." Angel shook his
head. He didn't quite know what she meant, but he wasn't liking the road she was
taking.
"What are you talking about? Whoever Spike was before he was turned, he's
not him anymore. Or at least he wasn't. His soul..." Darla cut him off, laughing.
"Oh, Angel, don't be so dense," she patronized him. "What is a *soul*
anyway?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean exactly what I've said. Humans, they have souls, and they can be
as evil as we are, if not worse. Our soul is certainly not our spirit. When we're
turned, we don't become zombies. We remain the same, in a way. Our essence
remains intact."
"No, it doesn't, we...don't." Angel said sternly. "We become vicious,
heartless."
"Because we want to. Because we can. We know the difference between right
and wrong, we just don't care. And if you are honest with yourself, you'll
admit you didn't care *before* you were turned." she said knowingly, and Angel
lowered his gaze. "Remember James and Elizabeth, Angel? Remember how much you loathed them because the loved each other?" Angel nodded. He remembered, alright. "Let me tell you something, Angel. Vampires only choose two types of human to
turn. The most common ones are the sheep. The kind of people who don't question
their existence and just go with the flow. James didn't bother you as much as
Spike does, because he was that kind of man. I'm surprised he lived as long as
he did. Those are usually slayer's bate. Then they're people like us. Who've
forgotten they have a soul even before they loose it. Turning us is just the little
push on the wrong direction. And then there's Spike. I'm not even sure if
there's another one like him. Dru doesn't count. You took that away from her."
Angel winced. "But Spike...William, he was so full of love and compassion. He
was so pure. Too good even for your average human. And you could see it, couldn't
you? Right from the start. From the day he asked us if he could turn his
mother. You saw he was different, didn't you?"
"No!" Angel cried frustrated. "He wasn't any different from me. He's
killed as many people, he's as evil as I...as I was."
"Yes, he was a killer, because we were killers. And as much as he'd like
to deny it, William was never meant to be alone. We were his family. At the time
he was turned, he was hurt. He acted out of a sense revenge. Funny how he managed
to make a reputation out of a few aristocrats. The boy certainly likes to
brag. But he wasn't vicious. He'd always preferred a rival rather than a victim.
That's why he got so obsessed with the slayer. And you hated it. How loyal he
was, even thought we would have left him to die any day. How much he loved Dru, and
all that he was willing to do for her. You knew it was a matter of time before
his nature got the better of him and he returned to the light. And the little
humanity you had left was jealous of him. You still are." Angel laughed
humourlessly.
"Jealous?! Have you lost your mind? He's pathetic! He's a neutered vampire
with a bad attitude!"
"He's free. He feels and loves completely, incorruptly. He has never let
anyone label him, not even as a bad guy. He saw the whole
"turning-into-a-vampire" thing as a chance to stop being walked over by everyone. He did become a "bad" guy, of course, but the good was still in him. He was still free to make that choice. He only needed a reason, not a soul."
Angel was enraged. He knew she was right; not that he was willing to admit
it, not even to himself. But it still angered him more than he was before.
"So the soul doesn't matter?! All the pain and guilt I feel is a figment
of my imagination?!"
Darla looked at him, pitifully.
"The soul put you in touch with your humanity. When you were human, you
ignored it. But after more than a hundred years without one, you couldn't help but
to notice it once you had it back. It made you see yourself in your victims.
Feel what they felt. Spike already saw humans as equals; he doesn't have that
dilemma."
"Then why is he crazy now if it's not guilt?! Huh? Tell me!" he spat,
ready to punch her in the face, and kill her yet again.
"That, dear, I can't tell you." She smiled and the darkness in her
expression sent shivers down Angel's back. Then it hit him.
"You are not Darla, are you?" he said in a whisper.
"Sure I am. Who else could I be?" she said sarcastically. Angel stared at
her for a few moments, his mind working at a thousand miles an hour.
"I know you, don't I?" he asked finally, frowning.
She ignored his question and sighed.
"I have to go now. Send my love to our son. He's growing up to be such a
nice boy." the coldness in her voice startled him, but he still needed to know
something.
"Wait...I wanna ask you something." he asked hastily. She faked surprise.
"What is it, dear?"
"What was his reason? Why did he got his soul back?" her smile widened,
and he knew he wasn't going to like the answer.
"He felt guilty after hurting someone he loves. In all honesty, he was
looking for a way to kill her. She did use him as a whore, after all. But he
changed his mind mid way."
"Who?" he asked, fearing the answer he thought he already knew.
"The slayer, of course. There's another girl I'm starting to like. She and
her friends were quite a surprise. I don't trust them to be useful for long,
though."
Angel had only blinked, and she was gone. The rage inside him was
threatening to make him lose his mind. Or maybe it had already done it. He wasn't so
sure.
He stormed out of his room, bumping into Fred.
"Angel!" she laughed nervously. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"
"To see an old friend," he muttered without even looking at her.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"He said you'd come. You said you'd come. Or was it me? It lets me know
things, lets me know how I have to pay. You'll do your job. You know what I am,
what I've done..."
The blonde vampire kept mumbling to himself, curled up in a ball on a dark
corner of the school basement. Angel stared down at him silently. He
clenched his stake tighter, taking a deep, unnecessary breath to steady himself.
Maybe it had been the drive, or the pathetic sight in front of him, but he wasn't
so sure about doing this anymore. He wished for a moment he'd told someone he was
coming. At least that would have stopped him for sure.
"Spike..." he said in a low voice.
"I hurt you too, didn't I? 'Course I did. I always hurt the ones I care
about. Should have warned me though, peaches. Should've told me about the voices;
about the burn. It always burns."
"Spike..." he repeated a little louder, but the other vampire didn't look
at him.
"Shut up!!" Spike yelled, making Angel jump "I'm not like him! I'm not!"
Angel sighed. It might have sounded like an insult coming from Spike's mouth. He
knew he was talking about him. But the pained expression and the shame on
Spike's face was all he needed to forget about his intentions on that basement.
"No, you're not like me, William," he said softly. Spike finally looked at
him.
"Not William. Not a man. A monster. I hurt her, I hurt you, I hurt me, I
hurt."
Angel kneeled down next to him. He realised now he'd been played. That
he'd almost gone through with killing Spike solely out of a century old
inferiority complex. He also knew that Darla, or whoever that was, had neglected to
mention another characteristic that came with having a soul. He could grow; learn
from his mistakes.
He placed a hand on Spike's shoulder, comforting him.
"William, you're a good man. Don't listen to the voices. You'll be ok."
Spike stared at him and Angel saw the sanity returning to his eyes for a
brief moment.
"Thank you," he whispered, and as fast as he'd regained his mind, he'd
lost it. "But she'll never forgive me, she shouldn't. I hurt her. I hurt the
girl..."
Angel sighed again and stood up, leaving his grandchilde to his ramblings.
He only hoped Buffy would see what he'd seen. That she'd realise she was
Spike's soul. And that she'd use her own soul and stopped being "useful".
THE END.-