Saved
by Nmissi
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one. Especially not Spike. If I did, what makes you think I'd share him with you?
Summary: An answer to Andy00's "Spike Redeemed" challenge, wherein one is to write a redemption scene where Spike is NOT doing good to get into Buffy's good graces.
It was all over now, but for the screaming. The boy had been easy. "Daft
bugger. 'E practically offed himself. S'nice when they do my job for me."
Poor stupid git. Xander was never the sharpest knife in the drawer.
The old man, he'd been harder. Spike had tussled with him quite a bit, before it was through. He had a hole in his gut and teethmarks in the top of his head to show for it. "Wily, for a librarian." But then, he wasn't called ‘Ripper’ for his delicate stitchery.
The Lover Wiccas had begged for their lives, and for each other’s. They'd
tried to sway him to mercy and compassion. He was not taken in by their
duplicity. Even as they wept, he could smell the scent of their lover all over
them. He'd done it right quick, in consideration for past kindnesses. He kissed
them goodbye before he killed them.
Anyanka had pretended to be on his side, had offered to throw in with him. She
did not fool him, either. "I'm newly widowed, and in need of
consoling," she'd said brightly. So he'd taken her in his arms and sent her
to her husband.
The Slayer had been hardest. He had her scent long before he saw her. She
smelled like everything he'd ever loved. She smelled like home. And when she put
her arms around him and told him she'd missed him, his heart broke.
The screaming started when she was dust on his clothes, when her remains mingled with the rest of them. It was all in his head - he knew it. But the screaming went on anyway. He thought perhaps it might have been his own - the voice was familiar. But it made it hard to hear, and so he didn't answer Angelus right away.
"Why did you do it? *Answer me*, damn you. Why?"
Spike studied his father's face, the face of his nightmares. He'd seen this look
before, and it boded ill. He might kill him this time. And he did not care.
"Listen, you dickless piece of shit. What did you mean to accomplish? What,
were you jealous you couldn't do it yourself? All pissy because you're impotent
now?"
Angelus slapped him across the face, hard. It was nothing new, and certainly not
the worst the night could bring.
"Or was it more personal than that? Feeling left out, William?" His
sire whispered seductively into his ear. "A little sibling rivalry going
on? Perhaps you need a firm hand to remind you of your place in this
family." The screaming was a crescendo now, and Angelus' tirade was mostly
an annoyance. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered now. It didn't matter what
Angelus did now. He'd saved them, all of them.
"Why, William?"
He raised his battered head before his tormentor, and smiled.
"Because I loved them."
The screaming stopped, and his ashes scattered.
The End