Till the end of the world.
Even now, with the world quite literally going to hell, Spike noticed a thousand inconsequential details. It wasn't something he did consciously, yet at that moment he realized the depth of his quirk. It wasn't anything new – he'd always been one to grasp at the precious little beauty in the world. Even when he was the undisputed 'Big Bad', he'd taken in the tiny, intimate details of the world around him. A flick of William that had never truly died – the great ponce.
So here he stood, on the skyscraper built by crazies. The metal creaked, his body adjusting naturally for the slight sway of the flimsy structure. His duster flapped ever so slightly - hardly in the guns blazing fashion he might have liked, but it would have to do. The sky was clear – the stars decidedly out of place for the chaos that reigned below. Below...
There wasn't time to look. Buffy was down there somewhere, going at it fist and... stake with the bitch Glory. Whelp and his bird were most likely doing something, though who really knew what. He'd seen the watcher still in the fight, and Willow as well – without her he wouldn't be where he was now. Up here. Away from the battle. Away from her...
Because he had a mission. A mission that was now not ten feet away.
“Spike!”
Spike didn't respond. There wasn't time to comfort Dawn, to tell her everything would be alright – that he was there to save the day. Because he wasn't. Because it wouldn't be. He saw a glint of steel in the hand of the demon, the moon's soft light betraying the instrument that would bring untold horror upon the earth.
“You're the guy. I'll be with you in a min-”
Doc never finished his thought. In the fraction of a second it had taken Spike to clear the top of the structure, to note the stars and the moon and the fury of the fight below, to hear Dawn's cry for help – laced with equal parts terror and hope, to look upon the blade that would bleed her dry, Spike crossed the gap, and without a final thought, hurled himself and his opponent over the edge.
Dawn screamed. In the cacophony from the mêlée below, nobody heard.
Spike gripped the reptilian demon with all his strength. It would all be over very soon. Doc was a slippery bugger – Couldn't a fella stay dead when you killed him? - but he wouldn't be walking away from the fall anytime soon. Maybe he'd survive... maybe not. Didn't really matter – Dawn was safe, and it wouldn't be long before Buffy would find the two damaged but immortal demons, and Doc wouldn't have a chance.
The ground rapidly came closer and closer. Doc was struggling, his long tongue lashing out into Spike's face. Instead of loosening his grip, letting go – Spike did the one thing his kind had been bred to do. He bit.
A moment later, he regretted it. The blood was oily and toxic smelling, burning his mouth and tongue. Fighting the urge, he bit harder. Bastard tried to kill the Bit... Bastard tried to kill the Bit...
And then, as soon as it had begun, it was over. He never actually felt the fall – just heard a loud whump roaring in his ears, followed by a sickening crunching sound that seemed to come from the inside. His eyes were closed – though if by choice or force he was unsure – and in an instant, every inch of him was screaming in pain. He had never known such pain – not from Angelus, not from Glory. It transcended everything he knew about the subject – which was more than he'd care to admit, despite doling out his own fair share over the years.
Oh. Bugger, he thought stupidly. A new pain made its way through the shattered bones and battered flesh. A pain made all the more intense by the fear it inspired. His eyes flew open, staring cross eyed at the spike that now impaled his chest. Wood. Course it would be.
As Buffy reached the top of the tower, a small cloud of dust settled over the body of Dawn's would-be murderer.
-------------------------------------------------------------
“Dawn!” Buffy's voice cut through the stillness. The younger Summers girl turned around, and the expression on her face shattered the relief that Buffy had felt when she saw her sister unharmed. “Dawnie – it's ok.” A pause. “Where's Spike?”
Tears began to flow freely down Dawn's cheeks. “He... it's my fault Buffy. Oh God! I killed him Buffy,” she sobbed, quickly approaching hysteria. Buffy closed the distance, pulling her sister in, allowing Dawn to cling. She was trembling violently, though human contact seemed to pull her back into the realms of sanity.
“He jumped,” she whispered, as if afraid to give the words credence by saying them aloud. “There was a demon who said he would make me bleed. He had a knife Buffy and then... and then Spike.” She paused, the tower suddenly swaying violently beneath them. “Spike saved me – he threw them both over the side.”
Buffy herself was going through a roller coaster of emotions. The high of battle was beginning to crash, and she was suddenly assaulted by a multitude of feelings. Relief primarily – Dawn was safe, alive. As far as she knew, so were her friends. She had survived. The world wasn't going to end. Fear – at how close they had come to that. A nagging sensation of horror at what she would have done had it come down to it. If she had been forced to choose between her sister and the world. She had told Giles without a trace of doubt that she would not murder the last of her blood, and she stood by that even now. Still...
And now, this. Up many stories above the carnage below on the amusement ride from hell, Spike had supposedly done this... this thing. This absolutely earth shattering thing. She'd trusted him – she realized that. Wouldn't have given him the responsibility of taking care of Dawn if she'd had any doubt – but this? This went too far beyond crazed, love-obsessed vampire. Later. First, get Dawn of the Hell God equivalent to Tower of Terror, and then find out about the Fanged Wonder.
“Dawnie, we have to go. We have to get back down to the bottom. It's not safe up here.” Buffy spoke as calmly as she could, her grip tightening as the tower moved once more, more violently. At this point, the younger girl was reduced to babbling.
“He's gone, he's gone. I tried to see him, but I didn't. I didn't see him. Oh God! Buffy! What do we do?”
The tower swayed again, accompanied by a telling clang as bits of the structure began to fall apart completely.
“Dawn, he's fine!” Buffy shouted out, her voice curt with the need to get off what amounted to a very unstable key-slaying altar. Taking in the look of hurt that blossomed on Dawn's face, she hastened to explain – anything to get them off the tower.
“He's immortal Dawnie – he'll be down there.” Inspiration. “But he might be hurt – he'll need our help. We need to get down there, now. We can't help anyone up here, alright?” Dawn nodded, and now, for the first time, she allowed herself to embrace the relief that had been kept at bay since Dawn's announcement.
The five minutes to get down the tower were the most terrifying of the evening. The fight itself had been a thing of action – she had not had time to feel. Fear, elation – none of it had mattered. Now though, the fear that it might all be in vain, that she or Dawn might have come all this way, to fall victim to several tons of soon-to-collapse-completely metal was to bitter for words. When they finally touched ground and moved out of immediate range of falling debris, Buffy realized for the first time just how much had been taken out of her. She wanted to sleep. Sleep like the dead... or undead, given the sun that was threatening to break over the horizon very soon.
“Buffy... thank goodness, the pair of you are alright.” Giles limped over, battered, bruised, and bleeding – but still standing. Grimacing slightly, he pulled the two girls into an awkward hug, before regaining a composed stoicism. “After all this, it would be prudent not to assume anything. However... it's over. You did it.”
Buffy closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. She and Giles would have words about what had happened earlier. That was something she couldn't just let slide. But for now... dammit, he was Giles. “Yeah, we did.” She offered him a weak smile. “Guess this is the part where we all live happily ever after, huh?”
Giles let out a bark of a laugh – more out of the euphoria of survival than at the attempt of humor. “Yes... I suppose it is...” he trailed off, unsure what to say.
Willow and Tara were sitting on the ground together, leaning against one another. Even a quick glance revealed the lucidity in Tara's eyes, and Buffy felt another weight remove itself from here shoulders. Xander was walking towards her, Anya leaning heavily upon him for support.
“Team Scooby, one. Psycho Hell Lady, none.” Xander said with a tight grin. “If we're all here in not-quite-tiptop-fashion, I think I'm gonna get in our totally inconspicuous flower covered van and get Ahn to the hospital. Anyone else need to come with.”
Buffy shook her head, missing the look that passed between Xander and Giles. “It might best if you took everyone. None of us our unscathed, and when this... moment... comes crashing down, we might consider ourselves fortunate to have taken such precautions.”
Xander nodded, for once understanding the hidden meaning in the watcher's words as he looked over towards the fallen body that had once been inhabited by Glory. “No problem G-man, I'll just round up the posse and we'll be on our way. That alright with you Buff?”
“Yeah. I'm fine – really – just tired. But Dawn's pretty upset, about...”
Oh! Spike!
The moment she cringed with guilt at utterly forgetting a member of the team who had done something so unthinkingly selfless just a few minutes ago, a piercing scream pierced the air.
“Dawn!” Buffy looked around, panicked. There, not far from Xander's improvised battering ram, stood Dawn, next to the crushed body of a demon. Without thinking, Buffy ran to her sister's side, terrified that the body would jump up and run off with her sister, the whole evening fought in vain. It didn't happen, and as Buffy approached, she doubted it would ever happen again – from this demon anyway. His body was utterly crushed, its head hanging awkwardly, all signs indicating a broken neck. It's tongue lolled from the body, almost comical in its length, if not for the still bubbling yellow blood that poured out of it. Near it's tip was a great tear, flesh hanging off emitting a soft hiss.
Dawn was screaming now, incoherent. She fell down upon her knees, small fists pounding at the smashed flesh of the demon. For a minute, Buffy simply watched, the others slowly gathering around her. Dawn stopped, utterly exhausted, She fell back onto the ground, her legs finally giving out completely. “He's gone Buffy. He's really gone. He killed him... I killed him.” Lost, terrified eyes looked up at her, utterly unsure of what to do next. “What can we do Buffy, he's gone.”
Buffy knelt beside dawn, scooping up her sister. As Dawn clung desperately to her for the second time in almost as many minutes, Buffy felt something small and hard press into her shoulder. “Dawnie... what do you have?”
Dawn pulled away slightly, just enough to allow a fraction of space between the two. Slowly, she reopened her fist, though kept her hand close to her body, ready to close it again, to protect it, at a moment's notice. In her hand lay a small, silver lighter. Spike's.
Buffy involuntarily looked back down at the demon. And suddenly she saw it. Not enough – not enough to be his entirety, not enough to capture the true essence that had been Spike, both pre and post chip – that raw energy that had been so uniquely him in all its total pain in the ass glory. But it was enough that there was no denying what she saw. Showered over the dead demon was unmistakably the ashy grey dust of a vampire...dusted.
Till the end of the world.
-------------------------------------------------------------
For the first time in over a century, he felt warmth. At first, he simply accepted – not sparing thought to what this sudden sensation meant. He didn't want to question it. It was... pleasant, for want of a better word. Not as pleasant as say, shagging the slayer would have been, or even that poor bint Harmony, but there was nothing wrong with a bloke taking pleasure in something that wasn't sex or booze... provided he didn't do it so often people took him for a ponce. And bloody hell, he'd earned it.
Then it intensified. And not in a 'moving on from foreplay to the real action' way either. No this was change of the 'I've asked nicely once, now I'm going to aim for the nose' variety. Clearly, someone was pissed off. Warily, Spike opened his eyes, alerting himself to any potential danger out there.
He saw... nothing. Nothing at all. As a vampire, any light source was more than sufficient for his superior vision. For total blackness – he hadn't experienced anything like it since his turning, the awful sensation of climbing out of one's grave. It was not the stuff pleasant memories were made from.
Right well, he'd taken guff from a Hell God, Angelus and his whore, Drusilla at her worst moments, and Buffy at her bitchiest. He'd offed two slayers, and despite having spent the last year utterly pussy whipped, he could honestly say he'd done it with a smile on his face, and that they'd been two of the best bloody experiences of his life.
“Right then, whoever you are,” he said, injecting as much nonchalance into his voice as he could muster, “Let's get on with it then. This you're idea of punishment, giving me a body temperature?” Spike smirked, “Gotta tell you mate, at this rate I'm expecting your next move to be pouring me out a nice hot cuppa. Might have to torture myself, just to keep things interesting.”
“Silence Vampire. Your attempts to hide your fear are as laughable as they are unnecessary.”
The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. It was ageless, faceless... seemed to bounce around inside his head.
“Name's not Dorothy mate, not about to jump to it just because you say so. Why don't you be a good little scary faceless being and give a bloke a clue as to what the hell is going on?”
“You will not be warned a third time. Silence Vampire. Await your judgment.”
For the first time, fear began to truly ebb into his veins. Upon... awakening, for want of a better word, into this place, he had pushed the image of Dawn and Buffy from his mind, determined to solve his current predicament before turning his thoughts back to his girls. And they were. His Girls. Might not know it yet, but that wasn't his fault --.
Now was not the time for distractions. He remembered jumping, remembered the fall... remembered the unholy pain. And ever since he'd shouted into the void, he'd had a tiny inkling of where he might be. But now – to hear that word, judgment – he felt his blood slowly turn to ice, despite the continued intensity of the heat around him.
But despite it all, he was never one to sit and wait. He lived by the blood, died by the blood. Twice now, apparently. And who the hell were they... whoever they were... to judge him. What gave them the bloody right?
“So that's what this is about then, eh? Let's see if ol' Spike's got all his paperwork in order. Hate to disappoint, but I'm afraid it's not as simple as that.” Unnervingly, the voice did not respond. Sod it all, times like this were what the expression 'all or nothing' was made for. “Fine then, riddle me this then. Just who the hell are you. And what in the name of all things unholy gives you the bloody right?”
The thrice damned voice chuckled. The audacity. This wasn't a laughing matter.
“You are a strange one, vampire,” it replied with unsuppressed mockery. “By far, one of the more interesting specimens to come before us. What to do with you, what to do... As to why we have earned the right, perhaps you'd best see for yourself.”
In an instant, the darkness disappeared, though the heat continued to threaten to burn him alive. Spike found himself standing suddenly in his crypt, even the smallest detail in its correct place. The candles however, were unnerving – shining with an unnaturally strong light, so much so that he may as well have been in the open sunlight, a thought that caused an involuntary flinch. And there, standing before him, was... himself.
Toss.
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!