Chapter 1
Africa
Spike pushed the tent flap and stepped through the opening. The black sky was littered with bright stars, allowing even a mere mortal to walk the desert safely. Hearing his knee joint crack, he stopped. Time to remove all the kinks from his beaten body. Slowly, his body cracked from head to toe, his bones and cartilage happy to realign. The villagers whispered and hid in their tents as his demon emerged, happy with the scent on fear permeating the warm air. Nodding towards the shaman that helped heal him, the vampire stepped past the tent and into the shadows. It was time to leave.
The journey wasn’t as hellacious as he thought it would be, wasn’t as bad as what he already endured. Slowly, he made the journey from the tiny village in the middle of the desert back to the coast. Africa was ripe with demons, allowing him safe journey during the sun’s hours, hiding in caves and villages. His deep bruises and grotesque wounds disguised his identity for the most part. His hair no longer perfectly bleached but now only blond-tipped with dark roots. No hair gel available to tame his wild curls, he was stuck with his two-toned, riotous hair falling on his forehead and into his line of sight.
Slowly, but surely, his body continued to mend from the traumatic trials it was put through as he traveled. The blood of camel was disgusting. It tasted like sand and smelled of dung. He feasted on a rare goat from time to time, but was regulated to camel for the most part. The human villages held no pull for him, never again. Whispers of past atrocities filtered in his brain, haunting the man that was no longer.
No longer
No longer human, no longer demon.
That demon fucked him royally with the soul. He wanted to become the man Buffy deserved, give it to her good. Show her that the Big Bad still lived and that love could never tame him. The plan was simple a’la Angelus. Take away the support system. The Watcher first. He’d tie the obnoxious countryman in the tub and carefully drain him. Slowly. Next came the whelp. The disgusting whelp that never said a nice thing about him. He’d make the twerp watch his friends all die. The two witches. Regrettable, he’d have to take Glinda, the only one worth saving for the greater good. Red was no problem. She was in the same category as the whelp. Nothing but obstacles, riding the coattails of the Slayer. He didn’t want to harm Dawn. He’d get her to come to him, maybe turn her if he had to. He knew that the girl wouldn’t be the same, but to have Buffy…Buffy. She’d come willingly if he had her sister. And, she would pay for her insolence. Pay dearly, she would. Her blood would be the price for her crimes.
No, no… that wasn’t right. No harming her. Don’t hurt the girl. Oh, God, he hurt the girl. Her eyes haunted him, accusing him. Swirling greens and browns clouded with hate. The scent of her tears weighed heavily on his senses. Her cries echoed in his ears. The taste, her touch… burned.
He burned from the inside. Sharp pains struck along his heart, his soul. He had a soul. His soul. The soul of a poet he thought dead. No longer prose of love and beauty danced in his head. Violence and blood over took his psyche. Hatred and pain painting the canvas of his brain, obliterating his memory of light and love.
Thu-ump
Thu-ump
Humans were near. Their pumping of their blood echoed in his ears, the scent of their heated bodies called to him. Turning his head away, Spike lit the last of his cigarettes. Soon he’d have to head towards civilization to get his tobacco fix. Maybe he’d roll his own again; he would be able to stay away from humans if he could get a good supply of papers and leaves. Wouldn’t have to worry about being spiced with a different kind of leaf and his demon taking over in the haze creating irreversible damage.
His demon could no longer rule; that was apparent. The demon’s wants were no longer his concern. It was buried beneath the rubble of pain. He could feel it though, digging through and shifting around just under the surface. Angry at the destruction of his freedom. No longer just neutered by silicon and electricity, but now by a conscience that would never leave. A reminder of his selfish and weak days.
He didn’t belong in the demon society; that ship had sailed a long time ago. The lure of humans revolted him now, their blood no better than day old horse shit. He belonged no where and he was no one without her.
~*~*~
“Thank you for coming along, you didn’t have to.” Buffy hugged Clem, the wrinkled demon.
Awkwardly patting her on the back, he stepped away. “No problem, Slayer. I told you I would have your back.” His kind smile almost ruined by his sharp teeth.
“I didn’t think you meant all the way to Africa.”
“Look,” Clem stuttered, “no one else was around and you needed someone to watch your back. I’m sorry I can’t go any further.” The unspoken implication that Spike asked him to watch for her while he was gone laid heavy in the air.
Buffy nodded and stepped away, the authorities in Casablanca’s airport were watching the human and the demon interact with avid curiosity. Why a Slayer would be openly comfortable with a demon was beyond them, it was a strange sight. Unfortunately the ride she arranged the rest of the way was not demon-friendly, leaving Clem alone in a strange land.
“I better go.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry that you came all this way and we can’t find a way for us both to go.” He helped her through customs and kept her company on the plane. Truly, he was there for her when no one else was willing.
“Hey, it’s all right, Slayer. I’ve always wanted to know what Moroccan’s use for snacks. Do you think they have Ghoriba in the Seven Eleven… do they even have a Seven Eleven?”
Laughing, Buffy grabbed her satchel and headed to the jeep that would be her ride down into Algeria. Thanks to Giles’ connections, she’s to meet a caravan that would bring her through the Sahara Desert.
How the heck did she get here? Buffy thought. Dawn.
Actually, it wasn’t Dawn’s fault that she was kidnapped halfway across the Earth by a crazed ex-Hell God back from the great beyond. It was Buffy’s. No, strike that. It was Willow’s fault. And if she was assigning blame Tara, Anya and Xander had to be included. This mess started over a year ago when they decided to rip her from heaven and insert her into this hell. Magic always has consequences. At first, they thought the consequence of bringing her back to life was Thaumogenesis demon, a hitchhiker from the other world. Creating life where no life existed caused an imbalance, creating a ghost-like demon haunting the gang and ultimately trying to take back Buffy’s life so it could exist.
If that were the only consequence!
It took a while to come to terms from last year. It started with Spike being able to cause harm to her. Tara claimed her whole being was ‘sunburned’ but it was more than that. Death had a way of changing everything. It awoke a part of the Slayer DNA, changing her into something more than human. Something less than human? Semantics when everything was boiled down. She was different, her soul was different and everything around her was different.
No one suspected that evil was lurking right under their noses before it was too late. Buffy’s reanimation brought about the possibility of brining Glory back. Her demonic minions scurried underground for months, caring for a broken Glorificus. Only this time, Glory didn’t have a curse of being part human… she was all bitch, all the time.
The opening of the new high school on the same site of the old high school should have been a clue that not everything was right in Sunnydale. Strange things started to happen. The creepy principal kept showing up places the two sisters were. Dawn swore she was being stalked by some unknown shadow. Nothing was adding up. Then it happened. Glory made her presence known and took Dawn.
It shouldn’t have surprised Buffy that the gang was no longer behind her. Willow was in magic rehab with Giles in England, Xander was still trying to figure out what to do with his life and Anya was a Vengeance Demon once again. With Tara dead and too many apocalypses under their belt, the whole Scooby Gang disbanded, leaving Buffy to deal with Dawn and her disappearance alone.
Enter Clem. Looking back, Buffy didn’t know when he became more than a friendly demon and became a friend. At first, Buffy went to the crypt almost everyday looking for Spike only to find him. He was a good listener, she found out. Allowing her to talk out her frustrations with the missing vampire, her feelings and her healing. Months later, she went to crypt to see Clem. He helped her deal with her issues of being back, of dealing with being a single parent, yet still a sister, to Dawn. Through those months she searched her soul for answers as to why Spike tried what he tried.
In the end, she can’t lay total blame at the vampire’s feet. She forgot his nature, his past, underestimated his capability and pushed him beyond his limits. What choice did she give a desperate man? She pushed and pushed him, abusing his loyalty by twisting his feelings into some sick perversion of a relationship. She called all the shots, telling him when, where and how long, never considering his feelings only to rip it away with no real reason. She hid him like a dirty secret, using his body while he tried to give her what she wanted...what she needed. He was the only person that bothered to pay attention to her, and she threw him away like he meant nothing.
And, now he's gone. He disappeared that fateful night, abandoning his crypt and meager belongings. Clem tried to reassure her and Dawn, claiming he needed time, but she knew better. He left her, just like all the others. Her misdeeds and insufficiencies weren't such a secret this time around; she knew what she did, what she drove their relationship to.
TBC......