Disclaimer: Don't own it. Not mine...nope nope nope.
A/N: This is short, but I'm hoping the chapters it leads to will be longer. Things are going to get a little hairy for the next few chapters.
The first thing that came to Spike when he regained consciousness was pain. It was everywhere, it invaded him, it sunk into every pore. He did his best to move, but was unable to do so before the pain caused his stomach to force its contents out. Vomiting out the mess of reddish bile all over himself was his first clue. Vampires, he managed to think through the haze of pain, don't vomit. That was when he noticed it was warm.
Forcing one eye as far open as he could, the brightness blinded him. The sun was shining and he was still in one piece. He was not flittering in the wind resembling the contents of an ashtray. Spike felt a strange sensation in his chest. His heart was beating…not just beating…pounding. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. It was a strange feeling to breath, after a century and more of not doing it. He groaned.
Spike closed his eye, and felt hot tears flow down his cheek. He was alive, really and truly alive. Angel was dust in the wind, and Spike had received his gift. Angel's Shanshu. Spike screamed as loud as he could. He screamed out his pain and his rage and his grief at the loss of his sire and the friends he had made in Los Angeles.
It didn't occur to Spike that screaming was a bad idea until he heard the footsteps. Footsteps coming closer and closer to him. Spike tried to still his breathing but, after so many years of not doing it, didn't have the best control. He was disoriented by the beating of his heart. Spike also felt something he hadn't felt in almost a century. Real human fear. Fear of death. Then he began to panic.
As he felt something lift off of him, his panic increased to the point that all he could hear was the frantic beating of his own heart. Someone, or something grabbed him and began dragging him away. Spike tried to fight, but the pain that shock had pushed away came rushing back when he tried to move. Then there were cool hands on his face, stroking his cheek lightly. "Calm down," he heard a woman say, "you'll only hurt yourself more."
Begrudgingly, Spike admitted to himself that she was right. So he calmed. He slowed his breathing and his heartbeat followed. There were hands all over him now, examining his injuries and roughly bandaging him. Spike felt himself be lifted onto a stretcher and then there was a sharp prick of pain in his wrist.
After that, everything faded away.
Review...please? hopeful grin