Misery
Disclaimer: They're all too sad to own right now.
Summary: If I tell you, I'll start to cry.
Reviews: Yes, please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!
A/N: Again, many thanks to WayWard Childe for the help and encouragement. Dude, you rule.
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The next few weeks were emotionally devastating to Spike. He spent his days sleeping restlessly before going out at night and slaying viciously. He demonstrated his enhanced vampire skills for Wesley and Giles with sarcasm and insolence. He listened to conversations taking place in the furthest reaches of the old hotel. He jumped from the roof and back again. He raced against Angel's car, arriving at the hotel long before his sire. He sunbathed for hours to prove he was truly immune to its formerly deadly rays. After a week he called a halt to any further exhibitions of his abilities. Telling the former watchers they had enough information about him, he refused to cooperate any more.
Jake had taken his paintings and returned to his mountain. Spike thought that he missed the artist most of all. The artist had been the best friend Spike had ever had. Susan had gone back to work at the gallery. She and Wesley saw each other frequently. As much as he'd wanted to, Spike couldn't let himself stick around to talk to her. If he let one in the others would follow and that would lead to his heart getting stomped on even more, so he held those he loved most at arms length, hurting them and himself more than he thought could ever be possible.
Buffy and Dawn had moved back to their apartment. Dawn had closed herself off from her sister and everyone else with the exception of Jake. She had reluctantly returned to school after Buffy had convinced the principal that there had been a family emergency to excuse her absences. Spike knew from overhearing Susan talking to Wes that Jake and Dawn were dating. Jake's protectiveness of the teenager during the entire ordeal had endeared him to the slayer to the point that she overlooked the age difference.
Krista had other patients she needed to see but made it a habit to stop by every few days to check on everyone. She knew the strain was tremendous but for once was clueless about how to help. She'd never run into this type of situation before and was stumped for a solution.
Willow, Giles, Xander and Faith had decided to stay around for a while, taking a much-needed vacation from the stresses of rebuilding the Watchers Council. Another overheard conversation revealed that the redheaded witch had split with her girlfriend, Kennedy. Something that Spike was secretly relieved to hear, as he'd never liked the young dark-haired potential. He'd thought she was spoiled and obnoxious.
Spike had observed that Faith and Xander seemed to be spending a lot of time together. He'd thought it was probably a good thing. Xander had tried to talk to him during the first couple of days but Spike had frozen him out. The young vampire understood that the male Scooby hadn't been part of the 'manipulate Spike into staying' conversation but found it easier to just reject everyone.
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It had been an especially difficult patrol. Spike wearily closed and locked the door to his room and peeled off his duster. He dropped it carelessly onto a chair and kicked off his boots. Wandering into the bathroom, he turned the shower on and tiredly waited for the water to heat. Stripping out of his black t-shirt and black jeans, he stumbled into the steam-filled cubicle and let the scalding water pound on his aching head. Loneliness speared through his heart.
The slender blond turned slowly in the shower until the water was pounding on the back of his neck, easing the tension that seemed to have taken up permanent residence. He put both hands on the wall and leaned his forehead between them, closing his eyes. He bit his lip in a vain attempt to stop the inevitable. This happened every time he showered. He knew it was the only place he could do it and Angel wouldn't know. Once the tears began, they would flow until he was lying on the floor exhausted and the water rained down on him in icy rivulets. Then, and only then, could he drag himself to bed and fall into a restless sleep for far too few hours. He wasn't aware that his Sire stood outside his room every time the shower began and listened in an agony of helpless guilt to his Childe's pain and despair being sobbed out in the confines of the tiny shower stall.
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With a groan, Spike rolled over and tried to identify the sound that had woken him. A slight tapping on his door came again. Shoving the covers aside he sat up and glanced at the clock on his dresser. He'd only been asleep for two hours. Irritation surged through his too thin body as he snatched his jeans up from the floor and shoved his legs through them. He flung the door open.
"What the Bloody Hell do you want?" He growled.
Gunn held up his hands in defense. "Easy. I'm only the messenger. Angel wants you downstairs."
"What for?" Spike asked, digging his cigarettes from his pocket.
"I'm not sure, man. But I think it has something to do with the package that arrived a few minutes ago." Gunn told him, carefully looking over the blond vampire as he'd been instructed to do. Cordelia had ordered him to assess Spike's physical condition and tell her if Spike had been eating enough. It was easy enough to do since Spike had turned away to light the cigarette. So the perusal had gone unnoticed.
"Fine." Spike grabbed up a shirt and pulled it carelessly over his head. "Let's go."
Gunn stepped back and gave the blond room to shut and lock the door before leading the way back down to the lobby.
Spike was not happy to see that most of them were there. A large package leaned against what used to be the reception desk. Angel picked it up and set it on the desk.
"This came for you." He told Spike.
Spike merely glared at his Sire and took hold of the paper. Angel backed away; he'd learned early on not to stand too near the younger vampire. The last time he'd gotten too close, Spike had used his speed to lash out and had dislocated Angel's shoulder. They watched as Spike ripped the paper way from the box.
He pulled the tape and opened the top of the large rectangular container. Grasping the top, he pulled the contents free. A gasp echoed through the room. Jake had sent Spike a painting.
A scene from Spike's last day on the mountain was displayed in living color. Spike and Dawn were outside in the bright sunlight. Snow-covered trees surrounded the couple. Bare-chested and barefoot, he had his hands on her waist as he lifted her up into the air. Her hands were planted firmly on his shoulders as she dangled above him. Joy covered both faces as they gazed at each other. It was a lovely painting. There was an envelope attached. Spike didn't bother to look it.
Giles happened to be facing Spike as he uncovered the painting. He was the only one to see the expression in the dark blue eyes before the shutters slammed down, locking away any emotion. It had flickered through so swiftly that the elder watcher wasn't sure he'd even seen it. The thought crossed his mind that no one could possibly survive very long living with pain as intense as Spike's seemed to be.
Spike set the painting down on the floor. Turning away from it, he gestured with indifference.
"Give it to Dawn." He spoke flatly, emotionlessly. The fact that he did not use a nickname was not lost on the onlookers.
"Aren't you going to read the letter?" Fred asked.
"You read it." With those cold words, the blond vampire turned his back on the group and walked back up the stairs.
Willow went over and picked up the painting. The tiny tag on the corner simply read: 'Reunited.'
Wesley watched Angel as he walked slowly into his office and gently closed the door. The younger Englishman sighed. "This can not continue."
Fred tentatively pulled the envelope from the frame. She turned it over. "I don't think I should read this." She looked at Wesley.
He shook his head. "Save it. We'll give it to him later."
Cordelia folded her arms across her chest. "If this doesn't change soon, I'm staking the both of them."
Gunn nodded and raised his hand. "I'll help."
Wesley gave a slight smile. "As attractive as the notion is, I don't think it's the solution to our problem. And given that Spike can hear everything we say when he wants to, I want to be elsewhere when we discuss this." He looked at his friends and family. His blue eyes met the gaze of each in turn. Giles, Willow, Fred, Gunn, Faith, Xander and Cordelia all nodded at him. They were united in their goal. They had to resolve the problem and convince Spike that he was more valuable to them than he thought.
Wesley raised his voice slightly, looking toward Angel's office. "I need some coffee, will you watch the phones? Thanks." He motioned for everyone to follow him as he left the old hotel. They made their way to the little café Wes and Susan had gone to the day they met. Wesley called Susan while on the way and asked her to meet them there.
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Spike gave up on trying to sleep. The painting haunted him. The happiness depicted on the canvas saddened him. 'Reunited'. He snorted in derision. Happiness was just a delusion. With a snarl, he redressed and shoved his feet into his boots. Grabbing his duster, he slammed out of his room, making sure the door is locked and made his way down the back stairs. He left the hotel without seeing anyone and headed straight for Caritas. A quick stop for cigarettes and he was ready for a day of drinking.
Lorne popped two more aspirin into his mouth and chugged back the icy ginger ale he'd switched to as his headache increased. The source of his headache was ensconced in the most secluded booth located in the back of the club. Spike was working his way through a bottle of Jack Daniels; having decided that the imported beer he normally ordered was too tame for the mood he was in.
The Pylean retreated to his office and made a phone call.
"Wesley, I need you to do something about Angelkin's most gorgeous Childe. The vibes he's putting out are giving yours truly a migraine. The silent screaming he's doing is deafening my perfect pitch ears." Lorne pressed an ice pack to his temple as he talked to his friend.
In the café, Wesley smiled at his companions. "It seems we have another accomplice." He told them. He spoke into his phone. "Lorne, the rest of us are discussing that very problem. Would you like to join us?"
Later….
Giles debated with himself over whether or not he should share what he'd seen with the others. He decided that the knowledge could be used to plan a course of action. He cleared his throat for attention.
"I saw something earlier that I believe you all should be aware of." Rupert began softly. "I saw Spike's eyes when he opened the painting." He took a sip of tea to remove the lump in his throat that had appeared at the memory.
Cordelia, seated to his right, put a hand on his arm. "Giles? What did you see?" She asked gently.
"I don't think I've ever seen that much pain in anyone's eyes before. It was like seeing someone's soul ripped in two right before you. I don't understand how he's surviving it." Giles told his stunned companions.
Lorne nodded. "He's going to deconstruct if something's not done soon. No one can be in that much emotional agony for very long."
Cordy added what she knew. "Angel says that he cries in the shower. It's the only place he'll show any feeling because he doesn't think anyone knows." She was aware that she was telling something Angel had asked her to keep secret but they were getting desperate. Spike would be lost to them if they didn't act fast. Everyone grew silent at the thought of the powerful master vampire in so much emotional pain.
"Can't Krista help?" Fred asked.
"He won't talk to her and since he knows she has to see his eyes, he won't even look at her." Xander explained. "We have to shock him. Being patient isn't going to work anymore. It's gotten us nowhere."
Susan leaned her head on Wesley's shoulder. "If I had known this would happen…"
Wes kissed the top of her head. "Shhhh. It will be all right. I promise." He whispered into her hair.
Faith reached under the table and clasped Xander's hand. "He's scary on patrol. Vicious. Controlled. He kills so coldly. And silent. He's so quiet. I've never seen anything like it. It scares me."
Gunn draped his arm around Fred's shoulder. "He's losing weight too. I checked him out like you wanted me to, Cordy. I gotta tell you. It didn't feel right looking at a vamp that close." The others laughed a little at his levity.
They discussed the problem until the café closed for the day. They moved to Wesley's apartment to continue trying to find a solution. A way to get Spike back from the precipice he was teetering on.
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It wasn't working. The old tried and true method of forgetfulness was just not working this time and Spike was getting desperate. The knot of pain that had been growing in his chest since he pulled the painting from the box was becoming unbearable. He left a hefty tip on the table to make up for his surly attitude towards the waitress and departed the club.
He used his enhanced speed to get back to the hotel and paused before entering. He opened the front door and sighed as he confirmed visually that he would be alone. He wasn't sure where the elder vampire was but couldn't bring himself to care. Spike caught sight of the painting still leaning against the desk. He approached it slowly and knelt down in front of it. His sapphire eyes lingered longingly on Dawn's image…until it blurred. Shaking, slender fingers inched toward the painted face of the laughing teenager, clenching into a fist just short of touching. Spike closed his eyes and bent his head, trying desperately to regain control. Almost panting in his attempt to stop his emotional breakdown, he leapt up and nearly flew up the stairs to get to his room.
Slamming the door, he locked it and leaned against it. He slid down and rested his forehead on his knees. Still breathing unnecessarily hard, he tried to banish all thoughts from his mind. If he concentrated hard enough he could achieve the blankness of mind he'd gotten so good at when he was in the Sunnydale High basement so very long ago. His mind felt just that shattered sometimes. Slowly sliding over, he laid down on the floor and squeezed his eyes closed. Keeping his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, he wished with all his unbeating heart for sleep. Afraid to move, too mentally wounded to think, he just stayed where he was wishing he had never been brought back.
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At Wesley's apartment, Susan answered her ringing cell phone. "Hi, Jake. Where are you?"
She looked up at her companions. "Jake is at Dawn's and he wanted to know if the painting knocked any sense into Spike."
She turned back to the call. "No, he told them to give it to Dawn….Really? Okay, love you. Talk to you tomorrow."
Susan closed her phone and turned to the others. "Jake has a plan." She announced.
