Not one bleedin’ clue as to what I think I’m trying to do here. C’mon, Spike, get it together. You can do this. Humph. Never in my worst nightmares thought I’d be my own soddin’ cheerleader. All right then, close your eyes, breathe deep, rest a moment, open the eyes, and focus. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah… Finished off nearly a fifth of Jack Daniels so far today. Think I might almost be ready to deal with the subject of Buffy now. Cor. This is hard. I don’t think I can do this. I feel physically ill every time I let my thoughts start down this path. But I have to do this. I need to do this. I can’t keep putting it off. It was easy enough to do when I was lying unconscious on the floor of that cave, or wandering half delirious through the jungle, or even when I was still recuperating, but I can’t avoid this forever. I’ve never backed down from a fight or a challenge before, but this is different. I’ve never been this scared before in my life or unlife... Because I need to confront my demon(s) – real and imagined – about Buffy and what happened before I left – all of it, too, not just that night at her house. Because I can’t go back and face her until I face myself, and I’m afraid of what I’m going to see when I do. I’m afraid of what I’ll feel. I’m afraid of what I’ll want. Bugger it. I’m just plain afraid, and that’s an emotion I haven’t felt in a long time. Fear for others – hell, yeah… like when Niblet was up on that tower, or when Buffy threatened to stake Dru our first time in Sunnyhell. But fear for myself – no. So, how do I overcome that?
‘Kay, I’m back now. Had to take a break and grab a fag. Got me another bottle of JD to keep me company for this. Mitchell had the bottle ready for me when I walked back to the house. I swear he knows what I’m thinkin’ sometimes. How is that possible? No matter, but I actually managed a genuine smile of gratitude for both him and Ruth as he handed over the Jack and she walked over with a fresh pack of fags and an ashtray for me. I’ll have to think of something nice to do for them. I’m really going to miss them when I leave here. And I will have to leave… not right away, but soon enough. I can’t hide out here forever. But I have to deal with this first before I can even think about the future. So, let’s get on with it, then. Time to face fears, Spike, m’ boy.
Okay. I’ve been staring at my bloody drink for the past 20 minutes now and I can’t see anything except a pair of hazel eyes looking at me with pain and betrayal. And I’m frozen from the inside out as my mind and heart twist and churn for being the cause of her pain. How am I supposed to work through this if I can’t even think rationally? Maybe I should try to work up to that point in time and deal with other things first? Hmmm. That might not be such a bad idea. Face things in the order they happened. I can do that. Go back to when I first met Buffy. Yeah, that’s it… Nope, that won’t work. Still seein’ those pained eyes staring back at me in shock at what I’d done, what I’d tried to do. No, don’t go there. Not yet, anyway. Okay, where can I start that’ll work up to this gradually without packing that emotional wallop? Not with Buffy or any of her friends or family… I know, I’ll start with Slayers. That makes sense, right? Buffy’s a Slayer, but I’ve known – or rather killed – other Slayers and I can think about them clearly enough. Yeah, that’s it. I’ll start with my first Slayer and work into this slowly but surely. Good plan, mate. ‘Course we all know how my plans usually work out. Bugger it! I’ve got to start somewhere if I’m ever gonna get through this and this is as good a place as any. So, here goes nothing.
Let’s see. I first heard about Slayers from Angelus. He was trying to scare me to keep me from acting out and bein’ all impetuous-like. Hah! Even then he was a big ponce – tryin’ to act like ‘e was an artist or somethin’ with his kills. Yeah, right. Artists create. Angelus did nothing but destroy everything ‘e touched. He destroyed Dru. He tried to destroy me, but I wouldn’t let him. He tried to force me to be like him and when I wasn’t, he’d punish me. His punishments were brutal, (never have forgotten the excruciating mental and physical pain I experienced at his hands), but I wasn’t about to let him beat me down. I’d cowtow for a while and let him think he had control, but then I’d do something to remind him that I was my own man, not his trained dog. Drove him crazy, I did. He didn’t care too much for me right from the get-go, but he tolerated me because Dru wanted me around and I cared for her, took care of her… that was something ol’ Angelus never could do, never wanted to do. He made her crazy all right, but he left me to pick up the pieces when she’d fall apart…which she did on a pretty regular basis. Between her memories of what he’d done to her (and to her family), her visions, and his torture (although he got her to the point where she enjoyed that, craved it even)… she was pretty much around the bend by the time she turned me. And when I woke up after bein’ turned, all I knew was that this dark, beautiful woman was my sire and I owed her everything. So I tried to give her everything…everything that I could anyway - everything that he’d let me give her. He owned Dru and he never let me forget it, did he? He was her sire and he used her anyway it pleased him and then he’d let me come in and care for her…clean up her wounds, wash away the blood, calm her tremors… whatever she needed… I was the one who gave her those things, not him. And that kept me alive more times than not during those first few years.
I was useful to Angelus as a nursemaid for Dru, so he kept me around. But he didn’t like me and he didn’t care for how I conducted myself one whit. I’d go out lookin’ for a fight instead of a kill. I’d usually get both in the end, but I sure enjoyed the violence leadin’ up to the kill just as much as actually feedin’ and that’s what he just didn’t get. He enjoyed torturing his victims – physically and emotionally, but he always made sure he was in a dominant position first. He was never in any sort of danger from his victims. He made sure of that. Now me… I thrived on the challenge. Pit myself against a worthy foe and see who comes out on top! Oh, yeah. Bloody great, too. Every time I did that, the kill was glorious – the thrill of victory would sweeten the blood till it tasted like a fine wine. I reveled in that feeling. Made me feel like I was king of the world. Took me to new heights. Well, seemed like heights back then. Guess it’s more like depths now. Don’t really know. Rememberin’ the fights, the challenges, the obstacles, the victories – those still appeal to me. Guess that’s the fighter in me that can appreciate those things. But the end result – the kills…makes me sick to think about now. Hell, I was just bein’ a vampire. Kill humans and drink their blood. That’s what vampires do. Not like I ever asked to be a vampire anyway. Just mindin’ my own business when Dru found me and turned me. I should have lived a normal life, married some chit, raised a gaggle of kids in merry ol’ London. ‘Stead I died a rather foppish man at a very early age and came back a demon intent on rejecting everything from my former life. Changed my name, my dress, my way of talking… established my own killing methods and fighting style… tried to prove I was my own man to Angelus and Dru and Darla (that bitch). Never could stand her. Had mixed feelings about both Dru and Angelus on more than one occasion. He was the only male model I had for a number of years after becoming a vampire, after all. And she, well, she was my Dark Goddess. I worshipped her for years. I’ve both loved and hated each of them in my own fashion. But I never wavered on my feelings for Darla. She was a stone-cold bitch and I’ve always hated her. ‘Course she hated me, too. Fine with me, ‘cept that she was Angelus’ sire and I bore the brunt of her hatred through his unusually cruel methods. Wonder how much of his treatment of me was him and how much was her? Oh, well. Too late to wonder about that. Too long ago to make a difference now. Motives wouldn’t change the outcome of actions, now would they? Well, would they? Because if they don’t, then why am I even botherin’ to think through my own motives and actions. Bleedin’ waste of time in that case. Won’t make a difference to what I done. Bloody hell!
Okay. Deep breath. Calm down. Maybe thinkin’ of Angelus wasn’t such a good idea. Or Dru. Or Darla either for that matter. Too many strong emotions tied up with that lot. Start over again and get back on track. Where was I now? Oh, yeah. Angelus was the first one to tell me about Slayers. He was tryin’ to scare me into behavin’ and lyin’ low ‘cause we got run out of a town due to some of my “activities”… hah! Boy did that one backfire on him. Instead of scaring me, it intrigued me. The idea of this one girl with speed and strength to match that of a vampire, trained in the ways of fighting and killing us…that was just too much for me to resist. She would be the ultimate opponent – better than other humans, stronger, more resilient – and I just had to see if I could triumph over her. What a way to prove myself…to all of them… and to me, too. Not even Angelus had ever beaten a Slayer. So, I started searching for her. Everywhere we went, I’d ask questions, try to find out more about her and her abilities, try to find out where she was. I was obsessed with finding her. I started training harder myself, learning more and testing my skills, wanting to make certain I was as strong as possible when I encountered her. And I had no doubts that I would eventually find her. I was convinced of that inevitability, and I wanted to be ready when it came to pass.
And eventually it did. I found her in China. We were there for the Boxer Rebellion. Bloody time it was. No pun intended there. Blood literally flowed through the streets of the city. The four of us had a splendid time. No one noticed our killing amongst all the death and destruction that was all around. Total chaos. Bloody beautiful chaos. And at the very height of it all, I found her…the Slayer. My heart soared when I realized who she was and I laughed. I think that surprised her – me laughing. Most vampires make threats, attack or run away. Not me. I just laughed and jumped into the fight confident that I was ready to face her. She may have been taken aback by my behavior, but she didn’t let it throw her off her game at all. She leapt into the fray with me, both of us knowing that one of us would not walk away. It was absolutely magnificent – that fight. Never felt more alive since I’d been turned, and probably before then, too. People were screaming in the streets. I could hear them, but I tuned them out. Nothing mattered but the fight. The buildings around us were burning. I could see the flames, but the fire of our battle burned brighter by far and I was mesmerized by it. I can still see every move we each made as we danced that night. And truly that dance touched me, burned me from the inside out, changed me. It was over all too soon. I triumphed, killed my first Slayer and sampled her blood. I didn’t drain her though. Didn’t seem right to do that – not honorable for such a worthy opponent, if you will. But I did taste her blood – the spoils of war to the victor and all that rot. Her blood burned – seared my throat, my entire being. Dru came in just after that. I was still high from the rush of the fight, the victory and the slayer’s blood and I took her right there on the spot. It was passionate and fierce and it felt so right at the time. And when we walked out of that burning building, I was a new man. I had a new air of confidence and it showed. Even ol’ Angelus saw that. I could see it in his eyes. He even admitted that I was “one of them now” and that struck me. I finally belonged somewhere. I finally fit in. And all it took to accomplish that was the death of a girl. One girl… One girl who had challenged me like no other. One girl that I could face as a true equal, a worthy opponent. But it didn’t satisfy me. I wanted more. I wanted to feel that high again. Not the kill, although that was good. I wanted to feel the thrill of that glorious fight again. To be matched against such a worthy foe was what I desired more than anything else. I just knew that nothing else would ever again satisfy me like that had. I wanted to face that one girl, the Slayer, over and over, again and again and again.
It wasn’t long after that our “little family” split up. We ended up in Romania and we all know what happened to Angelus there. Bleedin’ prick went and got himself cursed with a soul. I had mixed feelings about that back then. I hated what had been done to him. It was a vile and cruel thing to do to a vampire. And I hated the gypsies for catching him and doing that to him. It made my skin crawl when I realized what they had done. But mostly though, I just hated HIM – because he walked out on us afterward. Yeah, he was a prick, that grandsire of mine, and I couldn’t stand his guts most of the time… But he was also my family and it hurt when he left. Darla left that same night, and I have to say that I was not at all sorry to see her go. Wouldn’t have expected anything less from her. I actually did a little jig when I realized she was truly gone. But first I got good and drunk over Angelus deserting us. Me drunk in the living room of our house listening to Darla pack and Dru wail... That’s what I remember about that night. Angelus left. Darla walked away without looking back at the two of us. Dru fell apart. And I was left to pick up the pieces…like always. Which I eventually did, but first I had to deal with what had happened. Because Angelus hadn’t just left, now had he? Oh, no. First he had to come see us. Wish he’d never done that, even now. ‘Cause if he’d just disappeared, then we could have believed he’d been dusted or something. But no, he has to come see us and let us know he’s got a soul. But he doesn’t say anything, does he? No apologies and no explanations. No, he just stands there and stares at us all quiet-like, until Darla realizes what’s happened and freaks out, ordering him to get out of her sight as she walks off. Then he looks at me and Dru like the sight of us repulsed him, before he walks away too. Now that I’ve got m’ own soul back, I can honestly say that it probably did make him sick to look at us. To look on the two of us and know what we were, what we’d done, what we would continue to do…and know that he was responsible for all of it – Dru’s insanity, my murderous tendencies, the violence, the bloodshed, the immortality – must have been more than his bleedin’ conscience could stomach at the time. (On a side note here, sure am glad I never made any Childer. Hard enough carryin’ m’ own sins without having to shoulder the burden of someone else’s transgressions.) But I didn’t see it that way back then. All I saw was him walkin’ out on us, desertin’ us. And it hurt – the way he looked at us, the abandonment – and I hated him for hurtin’ me ‘n’ Dru like that. I swore that night I’d never let him hurt me again. ‘Course that was one more promise I couldn’t keep. Don’t go there. You don’t want to think about Dru and soddin’ Acathla and bloody wheelchairs. Not now. Keep on track, mate. Deep breath… So, what happened after Angelus left? Oh, yeah… I got drunk and spent some time stewin’ in m’ own juices, and when I was done thinkin’… well, I got Dru and we left. I didn’t look back for several reasons… Because I hated him more for leavin’ us than for anything else he’d ever done to me or Dru. Because you don’t walk out on family. Because in the end, Angelus brought what happened on himself by killin’ that gypsy chit, and I decided that if someone had to suffer like that…well, better him than me. Besides the prick had a lot of payback comin’ his way, and when I thought about some of what he’d done to me in the past, I started to smile thinking of the pain he’d be feelin’ now. So, I forbade Dru from ever talkin’ about him again, promised her I’d take care of her always and we left Romania and never returned to that cursed place. (Too bad I couldn’t learn my lesson well enough about cursed places with that incident. Maybe then I would have had enough sense to stay away from Sunnyhell after my first misadventure there. Then again, maybe not.)
I don’t even want to think about all the people Dru and I killed over the next few decades. We cut a bloody swath across the European continent and I never regretted a moment of it until now. But now’s not the time for that guilt… that can come later. And it will come…like it already has…again and again and again. Can’t say that havin’ a soul is exactly a fun thing at this point. Now’s not the time for those thoughts though. Right now’s the time to think of Slayers. Yeah, right…Slayers. After killing my first Slayer, I hungered for another fight like that first one. I thirsted for it. I desired it like nothing else. I’d already become a Master Vampire in my own right and had built up quite a reputation, but it didn’t satisfy me. I knew I wouldn’t be truly satisfied until I had bagged another Slayer, so I kept searching. I found her in New York on the subway in 1977. This fight was even better than the first. This Slayer was a graceful dancer and our moves were beautifully choreographed. Whereas before I had admired the first Slayer’s moves looking for an opening to make the killing strike… this time I drew the dance out as long as I could just admiring her. Feinting, spinning, kicking, we fought for time untold – minutes really, but it felt like hours – in that subway car. We were the only two creatures there. No one else to admire the beauty of our dance, the splendor that was our fight. In the end, I killed her. I snapped her neck. She almost had me for a moment there, but then I gained the upper hand and it was over. I had killed my 2nd Slayer and no one could touch me now. I didn’t taste this one though. Didn’t taste the powerful and rare elixir that is Slayer’s blood. This one was a different sort of combatant than the first slayer I’d faced. Don’t get me wrong – they were both warriors and worthy opponents. However, whereas the first one was all form and movement, this one was all about style and flow – more like unto me, and I guess I felt a kinship of sorts with her. I gazed at her beautiful fierce face for a moment – so peaceful in death, and I knew I couldn’t drink from her. It wouldn’t have been sporting to have marred her neck like that, and I do have a sense of honor about some things, so I didn’t do it. But I still needed something to remember our dance by. So, I took her leather duster and made it my own. Wore that thing everywhere for the next twenty some odd years. Until just a couple of weeks ago, it was like a 2nd skin to me. I left it at her house that night when I ran out the door. Now, I don’t know if I can ever put it on again.
Okay, time for another fag and some more JD. Good thing I’m not exactly “normal” with a regular human constitution. I’d have spent more than half of my time in the bathroom either relieving myself or throwing up from all this liquor on an empty stomach. ‘Course I’m not half as drunk as I’d like to be to sort all this out. The subject matter I’m dealing with apparently has the miraculous ability to sober me up. How ‘bout that? Oi, now. Ruth just yelled out to let me know that dinner’s ready. I can’t believe I’ve been out here all bloody day and this is as far as I’ve gotten. This might take me longer ‘n I thought originally. But I’ll work through this if it kills me… well kills me again, that is. I’m beginning to think it just might at that.
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
‘Kay. Where was I? Oh, yeah. After New York, Dru and I left the states and went back to England for a spell. Had a right pleasant time there as I recall. Then we headed back to Europe and spent the next few years traveling. ‘S funny, but I don’t remember being driven to find another Slayer during that time. Not that my appetite for the fight had been sated or anything. Just wasn’t as interested in that as I was in spending time with Dru back then. In retrospect, it’s almost like a part of me sensed that my days with her were numbered and drawing to a close. Didn’t actually know that back then, of course. Thought our love was truly eternal. We’d spent nearly 100 years together – just me and her - no Darla and no Angelus – by the time we encountered another Slayer. Certainly never thought she’d be our undoing, but she was – her and Angelus. When we came to the Hellmouth, I was looking for a cure for Dru after that damn mob in Prague had nearly killed her. I hadn’t left Dru’s side in months – always tending to her needs, doing anything I could to lift her spirits and distract us both from her failing health. I was so incredibly scared of losing her, but I was afraid that the illness would take her from me. I ‘d never have imagined how it really ended up going down. I’d never have wanted to.
I wasn’t particularly looking for any trouble when we got there, but I was itching for a good fight. I felt like a caged beast, and in a way I was. Imagine my surprise and joy to learn that the Slayer lived in Sunnydale. I felt alive in a way I hadn’t in years as I started dreaming of my next Slayer. I could taste it and it was a wonderful feeling. I’ve never felt more optimistic than I did when we first arrived in Sunnydale. Here was the place where dreams would come true – the restoration of Dru’s health and my 3rd Slayer. Unlife was wonderful. I couldn’t have been more mistaken.
The first time I saw the Slayer…Buffy…she was at the Bronze dancing with her mates. After the Annoying One informed me of the Slayer’s presence, I’d immediately set out to locate her and begin my surveillance. I wanted to draw this one out a bit. The other two had been rushed – find and confront, seek and destroy, fight and kill. I wanted to savor this one. So, I set up a test of sorts to see what I’d be up against. She was amazing even back then. She was sexy and beautiful, fiery and tough, witty and innovative. I think that the first moment when I saw her dancing was the beginning of my undoing, but I didn’t realize it then. She was swaying to the beat of the music and I couldn’t help but notice how erotic her movements were. I was attracted to her, of course, but that just heightened my anticipation for the upcoming battle, upped the stakes a bit if you will. Just caught that pun, unintended though it was. I’ve definitely been hanging around the Slayer too long. She’s rubbing off on me. She’s the one who makes all the quippy remarks, not me. I’m sarcastic blunt guy spouting truth no one wants to hear, not offbeat humor guy trying to get a laugh. Oh, well. Sue me. Anyway, she fought the minion I’d set up in the alley while I watched from the shadows. And it was a pleasure watching her fight. She had style and grace and I was twitching with excitement, salivating at the thought of fighting her myself. Our fight would be a deciding moment in my unlife. I just knew it. And it was… but not like I thought it would be. I stepped out of the shadows after she staked the minion, clapping loudly – and that threw her for a moment. She didn’t know who I was or what to make of me. I swaggered and blustered and told her I was going to kill her on Saturday. Got to give her credit though. If I scared her that night, she never showed it. And I left the alley looking forward to our next encounter, no doubt more so than she was.
Of course, patience never was one of my strengths. I showed up at her school during some Parent Teacher event a couple of nights before St. Vigeous, confident of my impending success. But fate had some surprises in store for me that night. First, Angelus shows up pretending to be happy to see me. I hear a noise and turn around, and there he is dragging some teenage wanker by the neck and heading my way. He’s vamped out and he smiles and acts all happy to see me, so I play along, clapping him on the back and everything. He makes out like the soul-having bit keeps the Slayer off his case, and then even goes so far as to offer me the neck of the kid he’s holding. It would be years before I’d realize it was Harris he had a hold of that night, and I still have to honestly wonder if he wouldn’t have let me bite him. He’s always hated the whelp, after all, soul or no soul. But I digress, as usual. I make as if to bite the kid and punch Angelus in the face instead. And let me tell you, that felt good. Even now, with my soul, I have to say that I truly enjoyed punching that bastard that night. Lying, bleedin’ ponce that he is… he actually thought I’d buy that tripe. Thought I’d swallow up the swill he was tryin’ to serve. Thought he could fool me like I was some fledgling. Apparently he didn’t know who I was anymore, who he was dealing with now. I was a Master Vampire, the Slayer of Slayers, William the Bloody, Spike, and I was my own man…one who hadn’t had to answer to him for many years and hadn’t missed that a bit. Was he in for a surprise or what? I told him off. Don’t remember what all I said to him that night, ‘cept that I let him know I could see right through him from the get-go. I do remember one thing I said though, now that I think about it. I told him “Demons don’t change.” Kind of ironic, now that I think of it.
Anyway, I set the minions loose on the poof and the whelp. They took off out the front door and I headed back into the school, looking for the Slayer. I found her and we exchanged a few barbs, sizing each other up – both of us self-assured and fearless. And we fought…such an invigorating fight. Even now I can remember every punch, every kick, every blow of that first fight I had with Buffy. It was exhilarating. And I almost won that night, too. I had her. I managed to get the upper hand, pinned her down and went in for the kill. I was so caught up in my victory that I never even saw the axe coming my way. Next thing I know, I’m sliding across the hallway clutching my head and there’s the Slayer’s mom glaring down at me, clutching that axe and telling me to get the hell away from her daughter. Never have I been more disgusted than I was at that moment. Bleedin’ women. ‘Course, now I look back on that moment with fondness. First time I ever saw Joyce and she impressed the hell out of me. Didn’t know what or who I was, wasn’t but a mortal woman, but she wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her child. Fiercest creature alive is a mother protecting her cubs – everyone knows that about animals, but I’d forgotten it was true about humans too...until Joyce reminded me, that is. And I knew I was licked that night. Knew I had no choice but to run away if I wanted to continue our fight…our dance…another day. So, I left. I went back to the lair to lick my wounds with Dru. Once I got there, I had to deal with the Annoyin’ One who was disgusted with my “rash” behavior. So, I fried the small fry…threw him in a cage and hoisted him up into the sunlight. Okay, okay. That pun was deliberate. I have been hanging out with the Scoobies too much. Damn. Anyway, I remember telling Dru that this was something different and unexpected – a Slayer with friends and family. Who would’ve thought? Not me. Slayers are alone – just them and their Watchers – always have been and should have continued to be as far as I was concerned. But Buffy didn’t do what was expected of her from Day One. Maybe that was what intrigued me most about her back then. Because I’ve never done what was expected of me either. Delighted in breaking the rules, I did. Kindred spirits we are. Alike in so many ways.
Unfortunately, the similarities we ended up sharing that year were not pleasant. We faced off many times and neither of us could seem to vanquish the other. That was frustrating – to both of us, I think. After all, I’ve beaten two Slayers, but I couldn’t beat her. And she’s beaten the Master (and he was one tough old bastard, too), but she couldn’t beat me. We were equally matched in too many ways and our differences balanced out to where neither of us could ever quite get the upper hand and keep it. And Angel was always around – the poncy wanker – always helpin’ the Slayer, getting’ in the way of my plans when she wasn’t, and always remindin’ me of the past and stirrin’ up my hatred of him, but also enflaming my longing for the family I’d lost when he left. Then, everything went to hell – literally. I got Dru cured, but ended up in a wheelchair for my troubles. Other than the fact that I was going stir-crazy sitting in that chair, it wasn’t too bad at first. Dru was strong again, stronger than I remembered her being…must have been that sire’s blood. Holds magical properties for vampires, it does. She took care of me like I had taken care of her for all those months. Even though she was crazy as a loon, she didn’t once forget to feed me or bathe me or dress me. And she was so loving and sweet to me – more so than she’d ever been before – that it almost made me forget about my useless legs. We stayed in Sunnydale for no other reason than to allow my legs time to heal. I couldn’t drive like that, and I’ll be damned if Dru or any other woman will ever drive my DeSoto. I’ve got lots of good memories wrapped up in that car and I’ll not have some fool female behind the wheel messing with my baby. Well, that and I wanted another shot at the Slayer after my legs healed. In the meantime, I was content to let Dru tend to me and plan her outlandish schemes of revenge...like the Judge, for example. Now I know it was beyond insane to put that bastard back together again and I never would have attempted it, but my beautiful black goddess wanted it and I wasn’t about to deny her anything. So, we had all the pieces gathered together at the warehouse and we put the bugger back together again. What’s the first thing the bloke does? After telling me and Dru we stink of humanity ‘cause we share affection, that is? I surely made certain he knew Dru and I were the ones to thank for bringin’ him back after he made that comment, let me tell you. If he hadn’t been in pieces for so long already, I don’t believe it would have mattered to him. He would have fried us both just as soon as looked at us. As it was, he toasted poor Dalton instead. And I liked Dalton, damn it. He was right amusing to have around, useful too with the translations, and he’d traveled a long way with me and Dru. I was sorry to see him go. Not Dru though. She just laughed at what the Judge had done and asked for more like a kid in a candy store. For one very brief moment, I wondered if she would have done the same if I’d been the one flambéed just then. Shook that off as soon as it crossed my mind. Just my own insecurities acting up there. Stemming from feeling helpless because of being in that bloody wheelchair, no doubt. Sure, Spike. Tell me another. Fool yourself some more. But no time to think of that then, because who walks in just then but Captain Forehead himself! And bugger me if I wasn’t actually pleased to see the ponce. At first I thought it was Angel and I’d get to see the Judge light him up like a Roman candle, which was rather a pleasant prospect. Then the Judge puts his ugly blue mitt on Angel’s chest and pronounces him to be “pure” and I realize that somehow, some way, this is Angelus returnin’ to the fold like the prodigal son. And I was actually happy about it - for a brief time anyway. Thought I was getting’ my family back. ‘Course, I also thought it’d be different this time around – new roles and all, given the years of separation and what I’d accomplished during that time compared to him. I had no idea he’d gotten even crazier ‘n Dru during that time. Don’t let anyone else ever kid you about that, mate. The Angelus that showed up that day wasn’t the Angelus I’d known before. I have some theories of my own about why that is, but I won’t get into that right now. Today I’m dealing with the Slayer… er, at least I’m workin’ up to doin’ so in a roundabout sort of fashion. Suffice it to say that this Angelus was a raving lunatic and an obsessive bastard. And I didn’t see it right off that night, but I surely would in the days and nights and months to follow.
I won’t go into all the details of those months that I lived in the wheelchair, watching helplessly as Angelus stole Dru right out from under me, while tormentin’ the Slayer and her friends with all his mind games. I’d watched him play those games with other victims in the past, so it shouldn’t have bothered me. But it did. I knew even then that something wasn’t right about him. He was too obsessed with Buffy. Not that I have room to talk there, but everything he did was so extreme and had a maniacal edge. I thought it would pass, just chalked it up to the bugger having been caged up for so long, but it didn’t pass. I guess that’s why Acathla didn’t come as all that much of a surprise to me in the end. Angelus trying to steal Dru, now that I kind of expected. He’d always just taken what he wanted in the past, and Dru was his Childe after all. I knew he’d try to take her again. I just never thought she’d want him. Never thought she’d go back to him. Not after he left us. Not after the way I treated her. I gave her everything he never did, never could. Love, tenderness, adoration… I worshipped her, my dark goddess. And the bitch dropped me like a hot potato for her “daddy” who treated her like an animal, using her any way it pleased him to do so, torturing her, pleasuring her, paining her… paining me. And god, it hurt. It hurt so much to watch her fall all over herself whenever he was around. She didn’t betray me right away when he came back, but it didn’t take long at all, now did it? Can’t believe that it still hurts so much after all this time, but it does. She chose him over me. I hated him for that more than I’d ever hated anyone before. I wanted to hate her too, but I couldn’t. I still loved her too much. I tried to pretend for a while, because I was still stuck in that wheelchair and couldn’t do anything much about it. So, I tried to pretend that it wasn’t happening, but I couldn’t keep up the charade. My legs may have been broken, but my eyes and ears and mind worked just fine. I knew what was going on, what he was doing with her behind my back. And it wasn’t long before he was flaunting it in front of me. And she didn’t even have the grace to be ashamed of her betrayal. She’d just smile and look pleased that “the boys were fighting over her”… Stupid, bloody bint.
Really, it was that whole bit with Dru that did in Angelus in the end, and sealed my fate too. The Slayer would have come after him eventually… even if Acathla hadn’t made it crucial at the time. I wouldn’t have ever gone along with that whole “ending of the world” bit no matter what. I meant it when I told the Slayer that I like this world. Always have – mortal or immortal – always will. But I don’t know if I would have been able to go against Angelus like that. I’d defied him before, of course, but this was out and out betrayal. I formed an alliance with the Slayer and waged war on my grandsire on his turf. And that’s something you just don’t do in vampire culture. You don’t betray family. Even after he’d deserted us in the past, I still don’t know if I could have stood against him if he hadn’t taken Dru away from me. I probably would have just drugged Dru and run off with her. She was thrilled with the idea of waking up that bloody stone demon. Crazy bint. So I definitely would have had to have knocked her out in order to drag her sorry arse out of there. But Angelus had to go and steal her away from me, so it became personal. It was about revenge at the end. I told the Slayer the night I went to her that I was talking about putting Angel in the bloody ground and I meant it. At that point, he meant nothing to me. I had never hated anyone more in my life or un-life, and I truly hope I never have reason to hate anyone like that again. My hatred was thoroughly justified, though. He brought that on himself. I’ve never regretted going against him that day. Yeah, I got to help save the world (big whup), and I got Dru away from him and back with me where she belonged (yeah, like that would last). But the absolute highlight of that day for me by far was - and always will be - the sheer pleasure of beating Angelus over the head with that tire iron. Nothing has ever felt as good as that did. Not even my battles with the Slayers. Those were fair fights with mortal enemies, but none of them had ever hurt me personally. Angelus was personal – very personal. And I thoroughly enjoyed beating the shit out of him. If Dru hadn’t attacked me when she saw what I was doing to her precious daddy, I would have killed him… eventually. I would have prolonged the pleasure by taking out my anger and hatred on him at least a little bit longer, but then I would have killed him. Saved the Slayer the trouble, Acathla never would have opened, and I would have had the extreme pleasure of sending Angelus straight to hell myself. But instead I had to deal with Dru. I actually had to knock her out in order to take her out of the fray. Once she was out cold, I picked her up and left. I looked over just once before I walked away, and saw Angelus ready to run the Slayer through with his sword. I realized then that he was really going to kill her. And I just shrugged it off and continued on my way. Figured it wasn’t my problem. Held up my end of the deal with the Slayer, after all. I backed her up when she made her move like she wanted. And I got what I wanted – Dru and me a free pass out of town. Had no idea at the time just what that ‘free’ pass would actually end up costing me.
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
At this rate, I might still be here with the Crispins come Christmas. Took me all day yesterday, 2 bottles of JD, 3 packs of fags, and more nausea than I’ve felt since I was human…and all I managed to cover was up through Acathla. The problem with all of this is that the memories are just too much, and each memory triggers another. Things I’d forgotten years ago keep popping into my head – victim’s faces, how much I enjoyed killing, bloodlust… and the screams. The screams are the worst of it. I can hear them all the time now…not just in my dreams or my memories any more…they’re a part of my waking awareness. Like they’re just bordering on my consciousness at all times…like hearing an echo that won’t die away. And it’s not just one scream, now is it? Oh, no. They’re plenty of them to choose from…so many…so very many. I know I deserve this, I really do. I certainly never felt any remorse back then, so it’s all stored up for me to overdose on now. And I know I brought this on myself, both by my past actions and my choice to get a bleedin’ soul… but I had no idea how hard this would be. Unlike the poof, I was a decent bloke before I got turned. I was a right poncy wanker, no doubt, full of poetry and the beauty of life. And I was a right stupid git at that, becoming so enamoured of Cecily that I left myself wide-open emotionally for attack the night she rejected me, never even considered the possible dangers…not once…but still, I was a good man. I tried to be a good person, to treat others right, and I was a gentleman… unlike Peaches who was a drunken whoring lout all along. Realizing what I became afterward… after I was turned… and that I reveled in every bit of it… it’s just making me sick is the only way to put it.
Vampires don’t get sick…I know that, but humans do. And I definitely seemed to have picked up that particularly disgusting function very well. I’ve thrown up at least once every day and most nights too…when the memories get especially brutal. Must be my nerves doin’ all that, I reckon. I was a bit of a nervous man when I was human – in social settings, anyway. I can remember how upset my stomach would get at times. This is a hundred – no, a thousand times worse. At this rate, I’m going to be a complete wreck long before I sort this all out. Find me cowerin’ in darkened rooms staring at the walls or somethin’… kind of like I was doing last night. Humph! I just might be able to give Ol’ Broody a run for his money after all if I don’t pick up the pace a bit on workin’ through things. Not that I’m broodin’, mind you. I’m still in the serious reflection mode… contemplatin’ where I’ve been, what I’ve done, what comes next. Oh, bloody hell. Who am I tryin’ to kid? What I’ve spent the past few days doin’ can’t be classified as anything other than brooding. First I’m a stupid ponce who falls for an uppity bitch who totally snubs me and leaves me feelin’ like my world just shattered. Then I run out into the dead of night and end up gettin’ myself killed and manage to throw away the decent life I actually had over a bleedin’ woman. I wake up as a vampire and totally reject everything I ever believed in so I can re-make myself… prove myself to my new ‘family’ who’re a real messed-up lot. I spend a century crazy in love with a nut job who leaves me for the wanker who left us years before. I go against my kind and my nature to make an alliance with my mortal enemy to save the bloody world and get back the woman I love who so obviously didn’t love me. After humiliatin’ myself countless times tryin’ to get her back and keep her for good, I get myself kidnapped by freakin’ soldiers who take away my bite. So now I’m helpless – a vampire who can’t feed. How much more pathetic can I get? I’ll tell you how much… I go to my enemies for charity, I end up helpin’ the do-gooders in their battle against my own kind, then I fall in love with the bleedin’ Slayer of all people, and now I’ve gone and gotten myself a soul, and I’m broodin’ just like the big poof. Well, that just takes the cake, don’t it? All I need is a bottle of hair gel to attain that oh-so-poofy look he has going, and I can officially become my wanker of a grandsire. My life, umm unlife, er re-life (?) that is, has really just become too pathetic for words. I just know someone up there is laughin’ at me about all this. Hope the buggers are good ‘n amused. Can’t say I am, although I have to admit that I can see a certain irony in this whole situation. Well, enough of the pity party. Put the rest aside for now, Will, m’ boy. Let’s see if I can’t manage to work through some more of my humiliatin’ existence today. So, where’d I leave off last? Oh, yeah, Acathla. Y’ know, he was one ugly bugger now that I think about it. That stone statue was the definition of fugly. Probably even worse in livin’ color. Don’t know why I thought of that. It just struck me. Get back on track, mate. Focus now.
So… after I walked away and left the Slayer to fend for herself with Angelus, I took Dru and headed to South America. I thought we could just put Sunnyhell behind us and start over. I thought she’d forget about him and I’d have her all to myself again. I always was a fool when it came to love. Guess nothin’ much has changed in the past century there. I’m still a fool for the woman I love and I’m still buildin’ up hopes based on fantasy. A fantasy is all it ever was for me to think things would be okay with Dru after we got away from that place… away from him. She couldn’t forgive me for sidin’ with the Slayer and betrayin’ her and her daddy like that. And she couldn’t let go of the memory of her precious Angel. I think she actually liked the 2nd version of Angelus better ‘n the first ‘cause he was as crazy as she was that time around, maybe even crazier. Huh, imagine that. I tried everything I could to woo her back and for a time I thought I was actually going to succeed. Hah! Like any of my bleedin’ plans ever succeed. Or at least since I first set foot in Sunnyhell, they haven’t anyway. Before then I pretty much got what I wanted when I wanted it, come to think of it. I knew I dubbed that place “Sunnyhell” for a reason other than it being on the Hellmouth. That place has been my personal hell in more ways than one. And it’s followed me since I left there, tainted everything else with its poisonous touch. Like me ‘n Dru.
That was over the day Angelus came back. I should have seen it then. Maybe I did, but I sure couldn’t admit it to myself. I tried everything I could to hold on to her. Gave her all kinds of presents and everything I thought she could possibly want. Not one bleedin’ thing worked. And it was killing me - seein’ her flirt like I wasn’t even there. It was bad enough her swoonin’ over that bugger, Angelus. At least there was some kind of a history there, Childe/Sire bond, whatever. I could come up with something to rationalize it away if I thought hard enough. This was just plain non-discriminatin’ and highly insultin’ to me. She’d flirt with whoever and whatever caught her eye… just to spite me. I knew she was doin’ it deliberately to get back at me for that alliance with the bloody Slayer, but I really thought that all she was doin’ was flirtin’ with those others. Never thought she’d actually act on it and put out. Then I caught her with that Chaos Demon, and my insides twisted up and clutched at me. I couldn’t believe it when I realized she had been spreadin’ her legs for that disgustin’ sod. So, I reacted in my usual suave and mature manner. I flipped out on her totally. Pulled her off that slimy demon. Screamed at her in the middle of a public street in Brazil. Gave her an ultimatum, I did. Told her that I didn’t have to put up with that and I was leavin’ if she didn’t stop. And she let me go. That hurt more than anything else. She didn’t try to stop me at all. She just let me go. Like I told Joyce, she didn’t even care enough to chop off my head… kill me proper. No, she’d rather leave me to suffer. I remained in quite a drunken haze for some time after that, as I recall.
Got so drunk I actually headed back to Sunnyhell. Still not sure why I did that. Wasn’t anyone or anythin’ there I wanted to see. Just a bunch of memories of some buggered-up times. Still deludin’ m’self with fantasies, I guess, though. ‘Cause the first place I headed after I got in town was the factory. Spent some time cryin’ over what we had, what we lost, how we’d been happy there. Never mind that Dru was still quite ill the greater part of time we spent there or that the Slayer was repeatedly kicking my arse back then or that I was subsequently confined to a wheelchair. Damn it anyway. At least there were no doubts in my head of her affection for me back then. Could still believe she truly loved me and only me at that time. Even if I was foolin’ myself back then, well… at least I didn’t know it. Faulty logic, I know, comin’ from someone who’s always confrontin’ others with unpleasant truths. Sometimes though, you just want to believe the lies ‘cause they provide some form of comfort. ‘Cause sometimes the truth is too cold to handle, even for the undead. So, I relived those memories of our ‘happy times’ before the Slayer and Angelus ruined everything. Well, really he ruined everything, but I had to blame her for bringin’ him back, now didn’t I? That train of thought eventually led me to the next stop on my trip of 1,000+ painful memories and I ended up at the mansion on Crawford Street. And what do I see there? Angel lookin’ right at home sittin’ by the fireplace with a book! Made my stomach turn to see him lookin’ all comfortable and content when I was in so much pain. Gave me one more reason to hate him. Wanted to kill him. Not exactly anythin’ new there. Might’ve actually tried to do it that night too, ‘cept that I was so drunk and bleary-eyed I could hardly stand. Ended up trippin’ over somethin’ or other in the garden and passin’ out, I did. Woke up the next morning with my head pounding and my hand on fire. Now that thoroughly pissed me off. I have never in my entire existence as a vampire failed to get under proper cover before the sun comes up. I am foolhardy at times – some might say – and I’ve certainly taken my fair share of risks that put me in mortal danger o’ bein’ dusted, but I had never been suicidal. I could have easily burnt up that mornin’ if the walls hadn’t been so high as to control the angle of the sun’s light. And that just ticked me off no end…even more than the fact that the flesh on my hand was smoldering and my head was throbbing, I was pissed off that Angel was sittin’ all cozy in his bleedin’ mansion while I could have died in that blasted garden. And would he have cared? Not bloody likely. Probably would’ve danced a jig to learn of my demise. Certainly know I would have danced on his grave with much mirth and merriment if the situation were reversed. Back then I can honestly say I would have chosen his death over anyone else’s - the Slayer’s even, and that’s saying a lot - especially if it was by my hand. ‘Course… he’d still be my first choice now, even with the soul. Good to know some things don’t change.
Anyway, back then I just wanted to do something, anything, to make him hurt like I was hurting. And death would have been way too quick and not nearly painful enough. I wanted him to really suffer. So, I headed through the sewers to some magic shop downtown to see if I couldn’t get him a suitably horrible curse. Come to think of it, that was the same magic shop that Giles ended up buying a few years later. Talk about a small world. I was looking for something hideously appropriate for that wanker – leprosy or boils or some such rot – when Red came in looking for ingredients for a spell. Listening to her and the shopkeeper talk gave me the idea to have her cast a love spell to get Dru back. Once I latched on to that idea, I forgot all about the Grand Poofster. All I could think about was getting Dru to love me again. Like most of my ideas since I first arrived in Sunnyhell, this one was a total bust. Nothing went right. Went to kidnap the witch and ended up having to bring that whelp along for insurance. That was downright annoyin’ too, seein’ as how I had to knock him out first and then he was nothing but dead weight to lug along. And the bugger actually had the nerve to bleed on my leather duster. Took me forever to get that out. Red agreed to cast the spell for me after I scared her a little. That was actually a right bit o’ fun. Red’s got spunk, she does. She was scared I’d bite her, but she stood up to me anyway. Right amusin’ to be honest. ‘Course she needed some spell book that was at the Slayer’s house, of all places, and that was one place I had most definitely not planned on going. On the bright side, I got to see Joyce, and she won a permanent spot on my top 10 list of Classiest Women Ever that night, let me tell you.
When I showed up at her kitchen door, she wasn’t even afraid. She knew what I was all right, but she didn’t see the monster. She saw the man…the man who was in pain. She greeted me, made me hot chocolate, and listened to me go on about Dru. Don’t think anyone’s ever listened to me like Joyce did – not before then and certainly not since then. But Angelus had to show up and seein’ the stupid git scared Joyce. Got to say that I did enjoy the fact that I was inside and he was no longer invited apparently. Enjoyed taunting him with that, I did. For all of two minutes, anyway. Then the Slayer showed up and ruined my fun, invited the ponce in and threatened to stake me like she always did. (Still does, actually. That’s another thing that never seems to change.) Not like I would have done anything to hurt Joyce. Angelus – oh, most definitely - but not Joyce. She treated me decent and that deserved the same consideration in return from me. Right before the Slayer showed up, I briefly considered going outside to whale on Angelus for a bit so I wouldn’t mess up Joyce’s kitchen. I respected her too much for that. But I was having fun taunting him. Anyway, when the Slayer showed up, she accused me (correctly) of having taken her friends. So, we all 3 left together – me, the Slayer, and the Poof – but only out of necessity. I wouldn’t tell her where her friends were till after I got my spell cast and she wasn’t about to let me out of her sight till she knew they were safe. Turned out the ponce was all soul-havin’ again, so he tagged along, all noble-like and looking out for the Slayer. Right! Like she needed him lookin’ out for her. She’s so much stronger than he is on any given day of the week. I didn’t find out till later on that night that he wasn’t up to full strength. Somethin’ about havin’ come back from Hell recently or some such rot. If I’d known that earlier, I just might have whupped his arse after all. Now that would have been immensely satisfying. ‘Course, I still have the satisfaction of knowing that the bloody bastard spent years in a Hell dimension being tortured. Can’t believe they let him go. Now what kind of git gets hisself kicked out of Hell? That’s where they torture and torment for all eternity. But no, they sent him back after only 200 measly years of suffering. Didn’t understand that at all for the longest time. Later found out that the Slayer sent Angel to Hell – not Angelus. Well, that certainly explained a right good bit. Only Angel could be so tiresome, so self-righteous, and so annoying that not even Hell demons would want him around. They were probably ready to end their own existence by the time they got rid of him. Too bad that not even 200 years in Hell could remove the corncob that’s permanently shoved up his arse. Wonder what it’d take? Most definitely a topic that requires some serious narcotics in addition to much, much alcohol before pondering. Not up to that at the moment. So, back to the real topic at hand – my disastrous trip to Sunnyhell.
Anyway, the three of us made our way back to that magic shop to get the ingredients the little witch needed for the spell. We got what the supplies and I had the opportunity to impart some of my infinite wisdom to the Slayer and the Poof, not that they appreciated it, mind you. But what did the two of them ever know about love… or friendship, for that matter? Tryin’ to tell themselves and everyone else they were just friends. Bollocks. Saw right through them in 2 seconds flat, and didn’t hesitate to pop that balloon. Seein’ Angel’s expression fall made it worthwhile, too. In retrospect, think I might have hurt the Slayer with m’ words that night, but I wasn’t overly concerned with that at the time. Just wanted to get in what licks I could and be on my merry way as soon as possible. I actually got everything I needed for the spell when we were waylaid by a band of insolent minions. Some wanker wanted to make sure I didn’t cause him any grief, make sure I got the message and got out of Dodge pronto. Bugger that. I’d never backed down from a fight and I wasn’t about to start then, ‘specially not considerin’ that a few of those punks were former minions of mine. Humph. Talk about misplaced loyalty. ‘Course the odds were slightly against me, so a well-timed reminder to the Slayer regarding the safety of her friends ensured her support, and the Poof just had to look good in front of her, so he joined in the fray too. Now that was one fun fight. Honestly have to say that the Slayer, the ponce and I made a damn good fighting team. Not that I wanted to be on their team or anything like that, but we did fight well together. We had all fought against each other individually and side-by-side enough in the past that we knew what to expect. The three of us together were like a well-oiled fightin’ machine. Not quite, but almost as beautiful a dance as me and my Slayers put on. Had a good bit o’ fun that night. And it served to clear my mind. Sod the spells, sod the drunken whining and most definitely sod the moping. I was going to be a man of action again and do what it took to get Dru back. Made up my mind straight out about that and left that damn town feelin’ better than I had in ages.
And my plan was actually successful for a change. I found Dru, chained her up, and won her back. And for a time I was happy. Thought my luck had finally turned around again. No more Angel, no more Slayer, no more Sunnyhell. Just me and Dru livin’ the good unlife. That was the way of things for a while anyway. Then the other shoe dropped, and kicked me in the gut… in the head…and in the heart. She cheated on me again! This time she hooked up with a Fungus Demon! Nasty bugger! Don’t know why she had to humiliate me by finding the most disgusting creatures she could to flaunt herself with, but she did. Then she had the nerve to say it was my fault because I was ‘all covered’ up by the Slayer. The Slayer! I honestly didn’t know what she was talking about. I tried to tell her so. I tried to tell her that’s why I left Sunnyhell and forgot about my dreams of killing my 3rd Slayer – for her, all for her. She wouldn’t have any of it though. Kept telling me that I ‘tasted like ashes’ and she had to move on. So, I moved on, too, or at least I tried to anyway. Didn’t waste a bunch of time getting drunk this go-round. Already been down that path and knew where that ended up. Decided to take some action this time. That’s what I’m good at, after all. ‘Course all my paths apparently lead to Sunnyhell, because that’s where I ended up… AGAIN! Really wasn’t intendin’ on it, last place on earth that I wanted to go actually, but ostensibly the cosmic forces conspired to get me back there. Want to find the Gem of Amara? Guess what? It’s in Sunnyhell. Want to kill another Slayer and cement your reputation as The Big Bad for all eternity? Guess what? You’ll find her in Sunnyhell. Want to hook up with some bimbo you can shag senseless and not care for at all? You’ll literally trip over her in – guess where? pause for response – Sunnyhell, of course. So, I have come to the conclusion that the Powers That Be want me in Sunnyhell if for no other reason than that no where else on earth have I been repeatedly embarrassed, humiliated, and had my butt kicked beyond belief and still been stupid enough to keep coming back for more, than in good ol’ Sunnyhell, USA. Stupid soddin’ hellmouth.
Object lesson #1 – the Gem of Amara. Truly a noble goal for any vampire. And a very smart angle for me, I might add. Used my head for a change. Dru thought I was covered over and all around with the Slayer. Bugger that. I’d show her. Prove her wrong. Put off killing the little chit for way too long anyway, I had. Too many truces with the mortal enemy. Not the natural order of things at all. This time it would be different. No matter what I’d tried before, something always happened to give her an edge. Didn’t matter what it was…something always got in the way of me killing her. This time I wouldn’t fail, but given my track record… the only way I could figure to ensure that was to get hold of the Gem of Amara. I’d always suspected it really did exist. Old Dalton had been convinced of it and with all the texts he read, I figured he would have been the one to know for sure. With that little token, I would be invincible. No way the Slayer could defeat me if I had that in my corner. So, I took the time and the trouble to seek out its location. Ran in to Angel of all blokes in the process. By this time, he was livin’ in L.A. The City of Angels… no irony there. None at all. He could have gone anywhere when he left Sunnyhell and that’s where he chooses to settle! What a bleedin’ nance. Always got to make a statement no matter what he’s doing. As usual, encountering him left a foul taste in my mouth. With that bitter tang coursing through me, I cruised into Sunnyhell determined to find the Gem of Amara so I could whip the Slayer’s scrawny little arse from one end of town to the other and back again.
Might have actually been successful this time around if I wasn’t thinkin’ with the wrong head again. That’s gotten me into almost as much trouble as bein’ in love has. Somethin’ about women – sex or love – just seems to spell out my doom no matter where I am, who she is, or whether I’m dead or alive at the time. Could have stayed focused on my plan. Could have found the Gem and surprised the Slayer when her guard was down, but no! Things just don’t work out that way for me, do they? ‘Course not. ‘Stead I go and find this vapid little vampiress, Harmony, and hook up with her. She just never shut up and I wasn’t ever interested in a single thing that chit had to say. Stupid little bint, but a lot of fun in the sack. And that’s what I wanted at the time – meaningless sex. After the heartbreak that was Dru, I wasn’t looking for another relationship. I just wanted someone to shag, and Harmony fit the bill nicely. Looking back, I can honestly say that I could have been a hell of a lot nicer to her if I’d even barely tried. She was a right annoyin’ little bimbo, no doubt there, but she didn’t deserve half the shit I gave her. Used her, that’s what I did and didn’t care one bit at the time. Kind of feel guilty about that now. I know I said and did a lot of things that hurt her feelings that first go-round. The 2nd time we hooked up briefly, she knew exactly what she was getting herself into and it was mutual. We were just using each other at that point. But the 1st time she was with me… well, she thought she was getting a boyfriend and I just wanted a good lay. Not that I ever lied to her or claimed to be her boyfriend in any way, shape or form. I didn’t promise her anything and I never told her I loved her. In point of fact, I made it quite clear that I didn’t care one whit whether she stayed or left. But I hurt her none-the-less, and I know it. Can’t pretend that if I was standin’ next to her right now that she wouldn’t get on my nerves just as much as always with her meaningless chatter and her inane logic, but I’d like to think I might not be as mean to her as I’ve been in the past. Might actually try to be nice to her and not hurt her feelings all the time. Argh. I really am becoming a poof… just like my wanker grandsire. I just wanted to get a soul – not become the poofster junior!
Anyway, more on the soul later. Let me lead up to that, ‘cause I think this is actually working. I’m feelin’ more inclined to deal with certain issues by coverin’ things what led up to ‘em in the proper order. Know I’ve been ramblin’ ‘n goin’ off on tangents ‘n all, but that’s me. That’s how I think. And it’s not like anyone’s ever gonna read this other ‘n me, so what do I care if anyone else can follow along or not? Now where was I? Oh yeah – obtaining the Gem of Amara. Like I said, if I hadn’t hooked up with Harm, my plan might have actually worked. I was focused on my goal till then, diggin’ and minin’ in the tunnels night and day till I located the proper crypt. But then I allowed myself to be distracted by Harm’s whinin’ about wantin’ to go out and how I hadn’t taken her to bloody Paris yet and how she didn’t want to be cooped up and on and on and on. It just never stopped and I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to do something to shut her up and sex was only a temporary fix. Besides I could use a break, I reasoned. So I agreed to take her to some soddin’ party. And that’s where we ran into the Slayer – literally ran into her, that is. She was with some co-ed toff. Could tell he was no good the moment I laid eyes on him. Know his type, I do. Apparently she didn’t though. More on that later. Anyway Harm and I took off in a right hurry and the Slayer followed us outside. We fought briefly - with no clear victor, as usual. Then the bitch brought up Dru. Had the nerve to ask if she’d dumped me again. Didn’t matter if it was true. Wasn’t none of her business anyway. Wasn’t like I had brought up Angel. Then bloody Harm had to go and confirm the little bint’s suspicions. I decided to beat a hasty retreat before she actually managed to do something that would hurt me. But, no, Harm has to open her big mouth and sound off about how we were gonna find the Gem of Amara and how she wouldn’t be laughin’ then. I tried to get her out of there right away, but the damage was done. The Slayer knew about the damn gem now. So much for the element of surprise.
I actually found the crypt where the gem was located shortly after that. Happy day indeed, but Harm kept gratin’ on my nerves while I was lookin’ for it… goin’ on and on with her nonsense about Paris… so much so that I staked her. Or rather I tried to, but she had put on the Gem of Amara without realizin’ it and the stake had no effect on her. Needless to say I ripped that ring right off her finger (and I certainly wasn’t gentle about that), told Harm to get lost, and went lookin’ for the Slayer. Found her in the quad at the college makin’ a fool o’ herself over that same tosser I’d seen her with couple of nights before. Had myself a front seat to her humiliation. Heard the whole thing, I did. When the Slayer found him, the wanker was busy puttin’ the moves on some other chit…feedin’ her a line of bull that’d be hard to miss unless you’re a stupid bint. Apparently the Slayer had fallen for it hook, line and sinker though, ‘cause she walks up to him askin’ him what’s goin’ on. Why hasn’t he called her? Why’s he talkin’ to this other girl? Did she do somethin’ wrong? That last one really got to me. Made me sick to my stomach. Bad enough to fall for a line and have a one-night stand without recognizin’ it for what it is. Not that I’ve got a problem with one nighters. If both parties are willin’ it can be a lot of fun. ‘Course I haven’t engaged in too many of those m’self. More of a one-woman man, I am. And the one time I did indulge recently, there was hell to pay…literally. But I’m not ready to deal with that just yet. Get back on track, mate. Plenty of time for that stuff later. Not like you’re going anywhere just yet.
Right then, where was I? Oh, yeah. So, I’m watchin’ the Slayer debase herself - grovelin’ before this tosser who wasn’t worth her time to spit on him, let alone sleep with him. And it pissed me off, though I didn’t pay it much attention right then. At the time, I simply waited for her to get done makin’ a fool of herself. And, oh, she did a grand job of it, too. Practically beggin’ him to call her. Questioning him if all she was to him was fun. And don’t forget askin’ him if she’d done something wrong! I wanted to shake her and yell at her that he’s the one with the problem, ya stupid bloody bint – not you! What’s wrong with women that they can’t see through men when they pull that crap? Didn’t realize how insecure the Slayer was till that day. ‘Course I also didn’t care all that much back then how she felt. Just cared about how I felt. I was thoroughly pissed at what I’d just witnessed. How dare she give herself over to a tosser like that and then make a fool o’ herself over him? She was better ‘n that. She was the damn Slayer, for cryin’ out loud. And no way should she be wastin’ herself on blokes like that tosser or the poof either, for that matter.
Should have recognized my anger for what it actually was – jealousy. Even back then my feelings for her were giving me trouble, and I didn’t even see it. ‘Stead, I chalked up my ire at her as pent-up frustration over having waited so long to kill her and then bein’ delayed by something as stupid and trivial as what I’d just had to witness. So, in my usual tactful manner, I attacked her – both physically and verbally. Punched her in the face and insulted her over what I’d just seen and heard. That got her attention all right. Dried up those tears right fast. She sat on the ground lookin’ up at me in the sunlight and it clicked that I’d found the Gem of Amara. If she hadn’t known about it in advance, she might have retained that cloud of shock a little longer, givin’ me more of an edge. But once it registered, she went into Slayer mode and the fight was on. It wasn’t up to par with our past fights, though. It was obvious that her game was still a bit off due to that run-in with the college prat. She was totally on the defensive – no fiery attack or witty little quips or snide insults. She wasn’t puttin’ her all into it and that annoyed me no end. How dare she deny me my just due because of some worthless wanker? I’d been waitin’ years to kill her, and I’d be damned if I’d do it without a proper fight. So, I opened my mouth and started tauntin’ her. Figured if I could piss her off enough, she’d go on the offensive and give me a real fight…an honest battle…the fight I deserved as her mortal enemy, unequaled peer, and the one challenge she had yet to best…as I had yet to best her. Well, I succeeded in pissing her off all right. Took it a bit too far, as usual. Wasn’t enough to tell her how she’d fallen for that sod’s line and that she had to be stupid to do so. Wasn’t enough to imply she was easy, although I knew better. No. I couldn’t stop there, could I? Had to bring up the poof, didn’t I? And that threw her over the edge. She flat out attacked me with a rage I had never seen in her before or since. A primal force she was that day. It was actually quite breathtaking to behold. Unfortunately it also meant I was out-matched. She kicked my arse quite magnificently. Then she took the ring away from me! That was downright humiliatin’ as hell. Bad enough to get my arse whupped when I was supposed to be invincible. Worse than that is to have the weapon of invincibility stolen so I don’t even get a chance for a bloody re-match. Worse still is havin’ to run for a sewer when your skin is startin’ to smoke after the bloody Slayer steals said weapon. Even worse still is knowin’ you may never again get another chance like that. But the worst of all is havin’ that hunch prove to be correct. ‘Course, I wouldn’t discover all that till much later. At the time, that was just a passing thought that I disregarded as being irrelevant. I left town for a bit after that. Headed up to Los Angeles figurin’ the Slayer would give the Gem of Amara to her bloody knight in shinin’ armor. Figured right, too, I did. What I didn’t figure on is that the ponce would be stupid enough to destroy the gem rather than use it himself. Wouldn’t hold on to it even to help him out on his “holy quest” to redeem his worthless arse. What a tosser. So, that was a wasted trip, except for the small but enjoyable fact that I got to torture that information out of Angel. And as I have indicated already – several times in fact – nothing in my life or un-life has ever given me as much pleasure as bringing pain to Angel to repay him for all the pain he’s caused me over the years.
After my unsuccessful jaunt to L.A., I returned to Sunnyhell. And this brings me to Object Lesson #2 – the Initiative. Only in Sunnyhell would it be even remotely possible that the U.S. military would set up a huge government lab underneath a bleedin’ fraternity house whose sole purpose is to capture demons and experiment on ‘em. And only in Sunnyhell is it in the cards that I – Spike, William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers, and Master Vampire Extraordinaire – would be captured by this same outfit my very first night back in town. Hadn’t even been to check out my old lair yet when I got zapped by some bolt of electricity and knocked out. Woke up in a glass cage – trapped like an animal. I was some kind of angry when I touched that glass and got zapped for my efforts. Realized I wasn’t getting out any time soon and that didn’t set too well with me at all. Pissed me off a fair piece when the bloke in the next cell – ‘cause I really was in jail, now wasn’t I? – tells me not to drink the bagged blood that just fell out of the ceiling like manna from heaven ‘cause it’s drugged. I’m starving, but what choice do I have? Then he tells me he was runnin’ from the Slayer when he got caught. That made me furious. I had actually stopped to observe her fightin’ some stupid fledgling, when I got captured. I figured she had somethin’ to do with me bein’ caught too. And that just wasn’t right. I deserved to be challenged on the battlefield like a worthy opponent – not shot from behind with enough juice to knock out an elephant and then locked in a cage like a rat. Where was the honor in that, I ask you? After I’d calmed down a bit, the wheels in my mind started turning. I may be rash at times, but I’m not stupid. I knew that in order to get out of that place, I’d have to fake them out and get ‘em to release me from that cage. So, I played like I was unconscious when they came for me. Let them get me up on the table even, before I made my move. Didn’t know what hit ‘em at first. Enjoyed seein’ the looks of surprise and fear in their eyes, I did. But it was touch ‘n go for a minute there. If I hadn’t let that other bloke out of his cage, I can’t say I would have made it out of there in one piece. But he served his purpose as both a tour guide and a decoy, so I could make good my escape.
Never been so glad to see the sky as I was that night. I didn’t waste time lookin’ at the stars though. No telling where those soldier boys might be or if they were lookin’ for me right then. So I beat it out of there post-haste and made for my old lair. Couldn’t believe it when I walked in and Harm was still there. Figured she would have split after I’d tried to stake her a while back. But she hadn’t. And then she actually had the nerve to try and stake me! I was so taken aback that she almost got me, too, but I managed to sweet talk her. Then I took off after the Slayer. I wasn’t wastin’ any time planning or plotting or thinking this time. The injustice of being captured and treated like a guinea pig was weighing heavily on me and I wanted nothing more than to make her pay for what I’d been forced to suffer through. ‘Course, at that time, I had not a clue as to what they’d actually done to me or how much more sufferin’ was yet to come my way. I was just focused on finding the Slayer and dishing out some greatly deserved retribution for my most recent disgrace. Locating the little chit proved easy enough, but when I got to her dorm room, the only one there was Red. Meant I had to wait for the Slayer, but also meant I got to have me a little snack before-hand…or possibly a little bit of fun. I mentioned before that Red had impressed me with her spunk. I meant that, and because of that, I offered her a choice – be dinner or be turned. Didn’t think she’d opt for bein’ turned, but you never know, and Red probably would have made one interestin’ vampire. ‘Course I never got a chance to find out, because that was my first encounter with Intiative technology at its finest. When I went to bite the little witch, this blinding wave of pain swept through my head practically paralyzing me. I howled out loud at the indignity, the frustration, the pain and the utter degradation of this happening to me… me of all people, er vampires. I deserved better ‘n that, but I didn’t realize then what was actually happening. Thought it was me. Never even considered that the soldier boys had done somethin’ to mess with my mind. Never thought anyone could be that cruel – not even the government. Should have known better.
Anyway, my night just went downhill from there. Tried to shake off what had happened and attempted to bite her again. Same result. And then again. By now I was both furious and depressed at the same time. What was happening to me? I was a bloody master vampire and only 126 years old. Red was kind of sweet that night now that I think about it. She actually tried to comfort me and excused my ‘inability to perform’ for lack of a better term. That’s right humorous now that I look back on it. Me tryin’ to kill her and her tryin’ to make me feel better ‘cause I couldn’t. That actually warrants a well-earned chuckle or two. ‘Course, at the time, I wasn’t in the mood to be molly-coddled and I blew off her well-meant attempts at comfort. Guess I need to thank her for that when I get back. We actually had a conversation of sorts that night and she was the first human I think I’d actually related to other than Joyce since I’d been turned. I didn’t lend too much credence to that though at the time and it didn’t last too long, because the little witch came to her senses belatedly and bashed me over the head with a lamp tryin’ to escape. Took me off-guard, it did. I ran after her, a bit peeved now and not lookin’ to lose a potential hostage in dealin’ with the Slayer. I caught up with her about the same time the lights went out and we hit the door and went tumblin’ out in the hallway. And who should be waitin’ for us out there but the soldier boys!?! Unlife, mine anyways, is quite unfair at times and this was definitely one of those times. I forgot about Red and lashed out with my fists at the soldiers. I just wanted to get out of there before they captured me and took me back to that damn lab again. I couldn’t even punch one of them without that same agonizing blast of pain shootin’ through my blasted skull again. They got the drop on me and I was thinkin’ that I was done for though I was still strugglin’ …barely. Then the Slayer shows up and proceeds to kick their arses up one end of the hallway and down the other. Never thought I’d see the day when I’d be glad to see her, but I didn’t stick around to voice my thanks. (That’s someone else I owe thanks to when I get back. Damn. This is going to get tiresome real fast if my bloody conscience wants me to go and thank everyone who’s ever helped me. Then again, not too many folks have ever wanted to help me out that I recall, so that shouldn’t take too long after all.) I got the hell out of there as fast as I could, still sporting a splittin’ headache that all the Tylenol in the world wouldn’t cure.
Didn’t see the Slayer for another couple of weeks after that, and I have to say those were some of the worst days of my very long unlife. I wandered around town with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I couldn’t feed. Every time I tried, the pain set in and knocked me on my can. I had figured out that something was done to me back at the lab, but I had no idea what or why they would do that. Why bother to keep someone alive if you were only settin’ ‘em up to starve to death? Didn’t make any sense. Surely they weren’t planning on letting me go. Were they planning on watchin’ me waste away – see how long it took and what it looked like? That’s unbearably cruel to even contemplate. Makes my skin crawl even now to think about that possibility. Not even Angelus, who truly enjoyed torture, would have done that to someone. I will forever be grateful to whoever answers the prayers of the likes of me that I didn’t have to stay there and find out. Back then, though, I was practically delirious with hunger. Never been as desperate for help before in my whole time as a vampire as I was then. I wasn’t desperate when I went to Buffy to stop Angelus from openin’ Acathla. I was determined, but not desperate. This time when I went to her and her pals for help, I was nothing but desperate…and maybe just a wee bit furious that I had been forced to stoop and ask for her help. And maybe more than a bit peeved at the damnable folks who would see fit to take away a vampire’s bite. And possibly just a bit aggravated with the cosmic forces who decreed I would be that vampire. But mostly I was just wretchedly desperate. I was so hungry I thought I might pass out before I got to the Watcher’s house that day. But I made it there in one piece, more or less, and they let me in…after I threw out a couple of tidbits about the commandos and what they’d done to me, that is. Got to give them credit for not trusting me right off the bat. Former truces aside, I wouldn’t have trusted any of them if they’d showed up on my front doorstep either.
I’m not in the habit of takin’ charity, mind you. Knickin’ stuff is one thing, but havin’ to accept charity is totally another. But I swallowed my pride back then, and put up with their lot o’ nonsense. Put up with bein’ chained in a tub, drinkin’ pigs blood from a novelty mug. (And “Kiss the Librarian”… Who bought that stupid thing I’d like to know? And who’d own up to it?) Have to admit that I was grateful they took me in, all mortification aside. But I wasn’t about to let on too much to that fact. Never hear the end of it from the bleedin’ Slayer, now would I? I think not. Thus began a brief (but seemingly endless) time of me bein’ shuffled about from the Watcher’s tub to his living room to Harris’ basement (which was undoubtedly one of the most degradin’ experiences of my very long unlife). No one should ever have to look at Harris in his boxers. Made me lose my appetite, it did. Then he had the nerve to expect me to be some kind of conscripted laborer or something. Spike, do the laundry. Spike, fix the leaky pipe. Oh, yeah, and Spike… pick up the place while you’re at it. Right miserable I was at that point. Harris made it perfectly clear to me that I was no longer a force to be feared. I just about cried that day when I realized that he was right. I was worthless…pathetic…a vampire who couldn’t feed…just a waste of space. I had lost Dru, had lost my ability to eat or fight, had to depend on the kindness of others to survive. I had no reason left to live. I came to this rather disturbin’ deduction as I was actually doin’ the laundry and tryin’ to fix the leaky pipe in Harris’ basement. I’m no bleedin’ plumber. What was that all about anyway? I couldn’t even do laundry. Shrunk my outfit and had to wear some of Harris’ nancy-boy clothes. Took one look at myself in that get-up and knew I couldn’t live like that. So, I decided to stake myself. Rigged up a stake all proper-like and after a few fittin’ words of farewell, I threw myself on it prepared to go out for good. ‘Stead the stupid table I’d propped the stake against gave out under my weight and I ended up in a tumble on the floor. Wouldn’t you know that Red and the Whelp would walk back in right then and witness me in that most pathetic state? Again Red made with the sympathy, wantin’ to help me and stop me from stakin’ myself. (Damn. Have I ever once thanked that girl for bein’ a friend to me? Guess I’m just as ungrateful as I think the whole lot of Scoobies are…well, other than Dawn, of course. Lil’ Bit always thanks me.) The whelp actually offered to do it for me, acted offended that I didn’t wait for him even. Like I’d lower myself to that. I should have gone out in a blaze of glory on the battlefield pitted against a worthy opponent – not tryin’ to stake myself in some loser’s basement apartment. Actually, it was Harris’ offer that got me movin’ again and stopped any silly notions of endin’ it all. Was not about to give him or the Poof or the Slayer or any of my other enemies the satisfaction of me goin’ out in shame like that.
So, I swallowed my humiliation (not any pride left at that point that I could find) and left to go see about a possible apocalypse with the two of them. Was kind of hopin’ it might really happen this time and end my miserable existence, when I actually got some good news for a change. I kind of got dragged into the fight against my will at some point and this demon was just whalin’ on me. I got fed up and struck back, decidin’ it was worth the pain. Guess what? No, pain! Oh, happy day. I could fight again. Granted I could only fight demons – not humans – but I could fight. Smiled for the first time in weeks at that and launched into the fray with a joyful laugh. Don’t believe any of the Scoobies had the slightest idea what that discovery meant to me. Probably still don’t and never will. They have no idea what violence means to a demon. They just don’t comprehend what it’s like to have something inside you that craves violence and has to be fed. If you don’t feed the demon, if you don’t satisfy that hunger, then it starts to feed on itself eventually…on you. That’s what happened to Angelus, you know. That idiot Angel knew all about the demon, but once he got his soul he started acting stupid. What’s wrong with him anyway? You can’t just pretend the demon isn’t there, because he is. You can’t think you can lock him in a cage and just throw away the key and forget about him. Because he isn’t going anywhere. He’s still going to be there when you come back. And the longer you leave him unattended, the madder he’s going to be. Angel left his demon locked up for nearly 100 years, and he was mad as a hatter when he got out. No way was I intendin’ to end up like that wanker. So, this discovery that I could indulge my ‘violent tendencies’ was truly joyous news. Violent tendencies! Humph. Stupid soddin’ humans have no clue. Think the violence is a choice. It’s not. It’s a requirement to feed the demon – just like blood. It’s necessary to live and do more than just survive. Anyway, enough of the ignorance of humans on that subject. Not like I’m particularly inclined to re-educate them on that matter anyway. But to me, the realization that I could hurt demons – fight, defend myself, attack, whatever – that was the best news I’d had since I’d found the Gem of Amara a couple of months back and we all know how that turned out. So, suffice it to say I was thrilled with this bit of news. There didn’t appear to be any loopholes to my salvation and I was ready to embrace it. That knowledge gave me the motivation to get back out on my own and I gladly moved out of Harris’ basement. I set up shop in a sweet little crypt I found with sewer access so I could get around easily during the day. It was a bit of a fixer-upper to be sure, but it was mine and it felt good to be my own man again. And on that positive note, I think I’ll wrap up for today and go join Michell & Ruth for dinner.
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