A/N #1: "Vision" is defined as: the ability to see, a mental picture, something seen in a dream or trance, and something or somebody beautiful. "Stranger" is defined as: a newcomer, an outsider, a visitor, and an unfamiliar person. Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks to ShinodaBear for encouragement and various Spike-bribing techniques. (You know what I mean.)
A/N #2: Okay, I know I've deviated from the narration style used in Chapters 1 & 2. I did this on purpose and there is a reason. This isn't Spike's POV exactly, or at least, these aren't Spike's stream-of-consciousness thoughts. We'll get back to that in a bit.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never gonna be mine. Not making a profit here either.
Visions of Strangers- Part 1
Spike was screaming. He knew he was screaming as he hacked and stabbed and sliced at anything that got close to him. Funny how he couldn't hear himself, though. His ears were filled with cotton. Only thin, meaningless sounds reached him. They made no sense. None of it made any sodding sense.
He could see Gunn's body from the corner of his eye. There were two things snarling and pulling at bits of the body that shouldn't ever be seen on the outside of it. He wanted to rip through those horrible beasts and spread their insides out, bathe in their blood. When he did, he would howl his victory to the heavens. Let Charlie-boy know he'd been avenged. He had his own neck to save first, though.
It was all he could do to hold his own. No matter how many he killed, they… just… kept… coming. He was standing on misshapen, nightmarish bodies piled at least five feet high, but the only things he could see from his lofty perch were more demons as they swarmed up towards him over their fallen brethren. He didn't know where Angel had gone or Illyria. He only hoped they were still with him. Somewhere.
Spike shifted his weight to meet the club of… something… black-purple and glaring with far too many wild orange eyes. A shock ran through him and he was suddenly falling sideways down the pile of bodies. He twisted and rolled, desperately trying to stay out of reach of claws and weapons. When he finally stopped, flat on his back, he looked up to see Illyria standing over him. She grabbed an arm and a leg and tossed him high above the screaming, twisting horde.
He stared up at the night sky and watched a cloud creep over the moon as he sailed along. He spread his arms, palms up in supplication, and rode the wind. Would he just keep floating? Maybe he was already dust. Maybe he'd ghosted again and was just floating through the ether. Years passed as he watched the clouds cover the moon while drifting high above the war below.
He didn't know when he'd landed. There was no jarring blow, no painful impact. He was flying through the air and then… he wasn't. When he finally realized that he was on solid ground again, he got up and started running back towards the fight, now so far away from him. He had to get back in there. They needed him.
As he got closer, he saw Illyria's legs cut out from under her and knew there was no way he could get to her in time. He tried though, he tried so hard. No matter how fast he ran it just wasn't enough. Her arms were pulled from her body and Spike could hear the sound of tearing over her screams.
He swerved around her attackers and ran on, dodging clawing fingers and gaping maws. He had caught a scent; a scent he would know anywhere. He staggered to a halt and watched in awe as Angel ran his sword through the breast of the dragon. It reared back on its hind legs and flared its iridescent wings once more before it came toppling down and Angel was buried under who knew how many tons of dragon flesh.
Spike leapt forward and shoved his hands frantically under the corpse. His questing fingers found gore-matted hair and he dug in and pulled. He had Angel halfway out when he noticed that the night had fallen silence. When he looked up, all the demons were standing in an unmoving ring around him. They watchedquietly as Spike tugged and yanked at Angel's body.
"You were too late, vampire. You have failed." It was Illyria, whole and unharmed. But he had seen her death, hadn't he? He wanted to ask her for help but her eyes were frozen and calculating. Any emotion she might once have possessed was absent as she watched him.
"Couldn't save me. Couldn't save her. What makes you think you can save him?" Gunn? Gunn was standing, arms crossed, beside Illyria. He had never seen Charlie look at him like that, like he was… evil, unclean, unwanted, beneath him.
"I can save him. He's not dust yet. I can save him." And he would if he could just… get... Angel… out.
"Your struggle serves no purpose. His heart does not beat. He does not breathe. His carcass is only useful as nourishment for the green." Illyria walked over and nudged the fallen dragon aside with her foot and Angel suddenly came flying free.
"He's a vampire, you blue bint. Heart's not supposed to beat." Spike laid Angel out and checked him over for injuries. Angel's skin was warm and flushed and there wasn't a mark on him except for a tiny drop of blood on his lips.
"It beats if you're human, or were for about two seconds before you were buried under a dragon." Spike froze. That voice… it… wasn't possible.
"Not happy to see me?" It was Angel. But Angel was…
Gone.
The body that he had been kneeling next to was gone. Illyria, Gunn, and the demon horde, they were all gone. Now there was only the man standing before him wearing Angel's face.
"You, you're not dead. They died but… and then they weren't dead either." This didn't make any sense. No sense at all.
"Wrong, Willie, my boy. We're all dead here." The Angel-thing began to circle Spike with a lazy pace, stalking him. "Never fast enough, never strong enough, never good enough. Honestly, I don't know why I kept you around as long as I did." The Angel-thing stopped in front of him and suddenly Spike was on his back with a boot pressed into his chest.
"This isn't real. None of this. Just a bloody dream." Of course it was. It hadn't happened like this.
"Maybe, maybe not. Who's to say?" And it was Angelus' mocking smile that taunted him. "Maybe this was your chance to make it right, Willie." The boot left his chest and Angelus was circling him again.
"You could have saved the day, been the big hero. Maybe gotten the girl, for once." Spike blinked and, just like that, Angelus was crouched down next to him with Spike's chin in his hand. "Hey, maybe they would've even given youa parade." Spike wrapped his hands around Angelus' wrist. He jerked and struggled but was unable to prythe fingers off his chin.
"Of course, it's much more likely that this is Hell. And guess who you get to share eternity with?" Angelussmiled at Spike fondly."I asked for you special. Wouldn't want my favorite boy to be lonely."
"Piss off." It wasn't the smartest thing to do, and his gut cramped up even as he said it, but with Angelus you couldn't show weakness. He'd torture Spike either way but at least he wouldn't get as much enjoyment out of it.
"Oh, that hurt." Angelus raised his other hand and pressed it to his chest with a little moue of disappointment. "I come all this way and this is the reception I get?"
Angelus stood up and, with Spike's chin in his hand, Spike had no choice but to follow. As soon as he felt the ground underneath his feet, Spike started punching and kicking. The blows connected, Spike could feel them hit, but Angelus paid him no attention at all.
"Someone has forgotten his place. Someone needs to be taught a lesson. Don't worry though, Daddy's here. I'll teach you everything you need to know." Angelus pulled Spike in close to him and whispered in his ear. "Now, just for old times' sake… scream for me."
ooo