The Funeral
I own none of these characters. That's Joss Whedon's pleasure. I just had a story to tell. Let me know what you think, the positives and the negatives. It's only way i'll learn.
It was a cold night, especially for a May evening. He had been out every night for the past week, and tonight was no different. Spike was looking down into the graveyard from atop a tomb. For a Californian town, Sunnydale had a lot of gothic crypts. It was one of the main reasons he had been attracted to the place.
That, and the hellmouth.
But he had never imagined that he would be hunting vampires, let alone that he would ever split from Dru. But that was a long time ago. Before the American government had shoved a chip into his brain. Imagine, William 'The Bloody' unable to hurt humans.
Spike sighed. 'Bloody yanks' he thought to himself.
He looked down to the ground. A hand was sticking out of the ground. Spike allowed his mouth to curl up into his trademark smirk.
He could still hurt demons though. And tonight he felt like dishing out a little hurt.
The vampire pulled himself out of the ground.
He looked around.
He was hungry.
He felt so full of energy, of new life, yet so hollow and empty.
He couldn't remember much, just a girl. They had been dancing, then they had a drink, and then she bit into him. She must have spiked his drink he had been thinking. There was no way he would have drank her blood if he had been in his right mind. But he had. And now he was covered in dirt, looking up into a half crescent moon.
The night was his. Soon all the people who had crossed him would know their place. They would regret the things they had done to him. He would taste their blood. He would right the wrongs they had done.
He would start by removing the arrow that was in his chest.
"Wait a minute-" he started.
Spike threw a punch across his jaw. He looked down at his crossbow.
"Knew I should have practised," He hissed under his breath.
The vampire got back up and jumped at Spike, who side stepped the pounce, leaving the vamp in a pile on the floor.
"C'mon mate, you're dealing with the big bad here. Not gonna be caught out by a ponce like you, am I?" Spike taunted the new-sired vamp.
The demon got back up.
He looked at Spike. He clenched his hands, and looked into the eyes of the platinum blonde vampire. And he swivelled on his heel and ran.
Spike's jaw dropped slightly at this. He half choked a laugh.
"Bloody fine example of a vampire he is, I think not" Spike grabbed a stake from his leather coat.
Grabbing the point he aimed at the fleeing vampire. After a second, Spike launched the small piece of wood, and watched with a sense of satisfaction as the vamp exploded into dust.
Spike smiled, pleased with what he had accomplished. Then his suddenly it hit him. Buffy was dead. And with that a tear spilt from his eyes. Buffy was dead, and no matter how many vampires he killed he couldn't change that. No one could.
Spike walked slowly towards the cemetery entrance. He looked at the graves as he passed them. Buffy would be here soon.
Tomorrow.
It wasn't fair. The slayer was decent, pure, and all things that nice little girls are made off. But she was also strong. Free willed. It was what Spike liked about her. It was what made her stand out from others.
He had only loved one other person. That was Dru. And she was mad. The technical term was 'Loopy'. He had only loved one real person in his life. And she was dead. Which was ironic, as it wasn't until two hundred years into Spike's death that he ever loved anyone. But she would never have returned his affection.
He knew that.
She loved the heroic prats.
Angel and Riley. Spike could be just a good a man as them. He just didn't want to be. Not if Buffy wasn't in the world. He was only patrolling because he said he would keep Dawn safe. The others didn't understand why Spike was helping. They just knew he was, and didn't ask questions.
Giles, Xander and Willow tried to ignore him. They tried to pretend it wouldn't matter if he just disappeared. Only Tara and Dawn ever acknowledged that he was helping. He didn't care about whether they liked him or not, as long as Dawn was safe.
As he walked he realized he had made it to the town centre. The magic box looked to be closed. The lights were off, which was unusual. Giles tended to stay as late as he could, in order to avoid Spike at Dawn's house.
Dawn's house.
It didn't seem right to refer to that place as Dawn's. But it was now. Spike looked up and saw a man grab a girl and take her down the nearest alley.
'Not tonight', he thought to himself. Spike grabbed his stake and bolted to the alley. 'Not another girl'. As he got there the girl ran past him.
Spike stopped. That hadn't happened before. The damsel had never rescued herself. More often than not they were wearing stilettos, and brightly coloured cloths. It was why Spike loved humans. They thought that they were the biggest kid in the playground. They thought they were the strongest. They were the stupidest, Spike thought. They killed each other all the time, as if they didn't have enough enemies. And it made Spike laugh all the more that he was their protector now.
Spike had never wanted the human race to die or anything. Vampires liked to talk big, but that's what it was talk. Occasionally you get the big thinker, the one who has a real desire to actually do it, to actually destroy the human race. Angelus was one, the Master too.
But Spike liked this world. He liked Manchester United. He liked T.V., especially 'Passions'. He just plain liked what they came up with. He was the model consumer. Anything they could think of, Spike would evidently like. For a rebel, he was amazingly adept at conforming. But it still seemed stupid to him that he was the man to defend this town from his fellow demon kind. Or the biggest joke that God could come up with.
'Let's have some fun with Spike' was what they were saying he imagined. Didn't matter if he was their little plaything. He wasn't doing this for them. He was doing it for her.
Spike stopped his train of thought and looked down the alley. He saw two men fighting. They both smelt like vampires. The he recognised one of the scents. And he saw a face he hadn't in a few years. And he wished that he hadn't today.
Any other day, just not today. Or tomorrow actually.
"Angel!" he growled in a low voice.
Angel turned to him, as he was finished dusting the vamp.
"Spike!" he said in an equally low but angry voice.
Spike looked at his grand sire. The man he hated for being a ponce first of all, and secondly because every girl he loved, or remotely cared for, eventually ended up with him, or had been his first. Buffy had loved the spiky haired git. But she had died with him, fighting side by side with him, not Angel, but Spike. That made Spike feel proud.
"What you doing here?" Spike asked the Vampire.
"Don't see how it's any of your business William"
"Well, this here is my town now, mate. And seeing as your on my patch, I'm making it my business" the platinum blonde vampire told him.
"Didn't know they were giving eunuchs town's nowadays"
Spike glared at him.
"I can still hurt you, you poncy haired prat"
"Bring it on Spike" he spat the name rather than say it.
Spike could see the same look in Angel's face that he had been feeling. Guilt and remorse all jumbled into one feeling. That was the only thing that stopped Spike jumping in right there and then.
"You're here for her aren't you," Spike stated, rather than ask.
"Don't you dare Spike. You're not fit to talk about her." Angel noticed the stake in Spikes hand. "Why were you coming down here? Looking for trouble? Heard I was back in town?"
"None of your business mate. I'll be on my way, you can be on yours" Spike turned to walk away.
"You really think this is how it's gonna end Spike? You're more stupid than I thought"
Spike stopped in his tracks. Not out of fear. Anger. "No, Angel. Not today. Not now. After she's in the ground, after she's gone, then I'll beat you. But not before."
Angel looked at Spike, surprised at what he had just heard from a man he considered to be almost as evil as he had been, back in the day.
"You love her Spike? Is that what this is?" Angel asked, almost angry at what he was saying.
"More than you did obviously" Spike answered.
Angel's eyes widened.
"You son of a bitch. How dare you. I loveed Buffy. I do. More than you ever could. You don't have a soul Spike you can't feel anything!"
"Is that what you tell yourself now, Angelus. You know as well as I do that we feel." Spike tilted his head with the last sentence, trying to hide the fact that he was near tears. "And at least I was by her side fighting in the end, where were you? We're not fighting now. I'm not letting you get over it. You can't blame me for you not being here. You're not taking it out on me. You got issues go find another demon to take it out on"
Spike turned to leave, but stopped and faced Angel. "Or better yet, look in the mirror" And with that Spike left, walking away into the darkness of the night.
Angel continued to stare at where Spike had been for what seemed like an eternity. It had been around five years since Angel first met Buffy. Face to face at least. He had seen her before. Whistler had shown her to him. She had made him want to seek redemption. A young girl had made the most feared Vampire in recent history want to be good. If that wasn't a Hollywood movie waiting to happen, then Angel didn't know what was.
He had come to Sunnydale because Willow had insisted. And then Wesley and Cordelia had insisted that they come. Gunn had stayed back at the hotel with Fred and Lorne, trying to help the girl adjust to life in the 'city of angels'. Angel hadn't felt comfortable leaving them, but they didn't feel it was appropriate to come to a funeral of a girl they had never met. He understood how they felt.
He had known Buffy, he had been with Buffy, loved her and he still didn't feel comfortable attending her burial. This was the girl he loved, the girl who had, literally, taken his soul. And she was dead. Buffy Summers was dead. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.
He hadn't been to the house yet. He couldn't face the others. No matter what Angel told himself, Spike was right. He should have been there with Buffy at the end. That's what heroes did. They blamed themselves. And while Angel was the last person to admit he was a hero, he was something more than that when it came to Buffy.
They were soul mates. And if Buffy was dead, Angel wanted to be too. Part of him wanted Spike to start trouble. He wanted the feeling of emptiness to go away. He had been with this feeling for nearly a century the last time, and he didn't want to have to experience that feeling again.
Buffy was his reason for atoning, for being a better person. Without her what was the point. He didn't give a damn about the shanshu prophecy. What good was being human if he couldn't be with the girl that he had loved?
Xander was reading a comic. 'The death of superman'. Willow was looking at a spell book. 'The art of transmogrification'. Willow and Xander were trying hard to ignore each other.
They were sitting apart, Xander sprawled on the couch, Willow at the dining room table. Every few pages Xander would look up, to see the back of his best friends head.
They hadn't talked, really talked for the last few days, since before she left for L.A. She had got back two days ago. It was hard to believe that one of 'The musketeers' was dead, Xander thought to himself.
He caught a laugh, a soft awkward laugh, from Willow.
"There were four musketeers dumby," she said out loud.
Xander got a shocked look on his face. 'Oh God, she's in my head. We're doing that again. Don't think of sex, don't think of sex' Xander thought to himself as he closed his eyes.
"Xander!" Willow exclaimed. "Buffy was right, that is all you think of"
Xander suddenly stopped the comic routine.
She had said Buffy.
She had said her name.
"When did you start reading mind's Will?" Xander asked, in an attempt to change the subject.
"I learnt how to do it ages ago. When the mayor was around. Don't change the subject"
Xander looked at her. She had turned her chair to face her best friend.
"Will, I can't. She's gone. She's dead" Xander tried to hold his tone, but there was a slight waver in his voice. He turned his gaze back to the comic. He wasn't reading it, but he didn't want to look at Willow.
"We've dealt with death before Xander" she tried to keep him talking. She had to keep him talking.
"I don't want to talk about it Will it's not important"
"Not important? We're burying our friend tomorrow Xander. We're going to put Buffy in the ground" She was quite fierce with her tone, almost attacking Xander.
"Willow, don't-" Before Xander could finish Willow cut him off.
"Don't what Xander? Don't talk about it? Don't let any emotion show? What Xander, don't what? It's Buffy we're talking about"
"That's the point Will. It's never been one of us before" this time Xander didn't even try to hide his emotions. His voice crackled and his eyes watered.
Willow got up and moved to him.
"I know I'm meant to keep strong, I know we're meant to stay firm for Dawn, but I can't Will"
He buried his head into Willow, who cradled his head rubbing his back softly.
"God help me, part of me wishes she had died instead" Willow looked sadly at Xander, and rocked him as he cried.