The Kindred Series by DizzyB
 
 
Chapter #1 - Prologue - Status Quo?
 

Kindred Series


Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨





Prologue
Status Quo?







Buffy took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and pushed open the door to the building that haunted her dreams of late. Unfortunately, this was not a dream and apparently there was no relief in waking up. This was the Sunnydale Asylum where Willow had spent the past 5 months in a more or less catatonic state. Although her brain activity was consistently higher than an average catatonic state would entail, her physical activity more closely resembled that of a comatose patient. The doctors, who had at first been very optimistic that Willow would make a full recovery in a matter of days, were at a loss what else to do at this point. For that matter though, Buffy had no idea what to do either.

By all rights, Willow should be in jail. Willow had taken a human life, after all. But then again, did she really want to go down the path of what should be? That road leads to thoughts of death…my death specifically, which I’ve already experienced in great detail… Painful choices, sacrifice, nothingness, peace – at long last, then resurrection, re-birth to a world of pain and horror, confusion, disorientation, a sense of loss and not belonging, numbness, despair, some really bad choices, more pain – not just mine, but others’ this time, and finally accepting that I was indeed back for good and deciding to embrace life again? Buffy shook her head to clear away those thoughts. Been there, bought the T-shirt, decided it didn’t fit after all. She’d finally gotten her life back together – kind of – and she didn’t really want to go back to that place again – with all the sadness and gloom and bad thoughts. Yuck, much!

So, she headed down the hallway to Willow’s room like she had done so for the past few months – three or four times every week. Along the way, she stopped by Dr. Lanningham’s office for an update. Nothing had changed. Willow was still non-responsive to all external stimuli. She was still being fed intravenously. Brain activity was slowly diminishing and this was their biggest concern at the moment. They were running out of ideas, new things to try. Perhaps if Buffy could tell them anything else about what had contributed to Willow’s current situation…anything that might give them some insight into how to help her? The doctor looked hopefully at Buffy, but was not surprised when the diminutive blond waif in front of him shook her head regretfully and headed down the hallway to visit her friend, who was – for all intents and purposes – lost to this world, with no real chance at recovery that the doctor could see.

Buffy wished she could tell the doctors what had really happened to Willow, and if it would have helped…she would do so in a heartbeat. But the doctors would only look at her like she was crazy, dismiss the facts as being nonsense, and probably admit her to a private room with padded walls. Not that she could blame them really. What did you do with a magick junkie who had overdosed one too many times, gone on the wagon, and then experienced a tragic personal loss which fomented a bender that had nearly brought about the apocalypse, and who was finally stopped only by the love of a childhood friend and a strong dose of true magick? Afterward, Willow had cried in Xander’s arms for hours until she finally passed out from sheer exhaustion. Xander had carried Willow to the Magic Box in the end, not knowing where else to turn. The shop was a wreck after the battle, so they had all ended up at Buffy’s house on Revello Drive. Willow had slept straight through for the next 3 days, while the rest of the Scoobies and Giles tried to straighten out the mess she had left behind. Andrew and Jonathan had left town. The damage to the police station and the raising of the temple were both blamed on the earthquake that conveniently left the rest of Sunnydale untouched. So, the police ended up being a non-issue. Warren had been totally immolated in the forest. No body, no evidence, therefore no crime – at least to the Sunnydale police, that is. Amazing how they could just ignore facts and rationalize things away.

Tara was dead. Warren was dead. Andrew and Jonathan were gone. Everyone else was okay and accounted for. Not everyone… No, don’t go there. Don’t think about him. Not right now. Focus on Willow. Only Willow was left to deal with…but who would handle that and how had still not been resolved during those first few days after the battle. None of them had really wanted to turn Willow over to the police, so the lack of charges had been a bit of a relief. Contacting the Watcher’s Council was definitely not the most appealing option. Those guys could be truly ruthless, and although Willow needed to be dealt with firmly and held accountable for the things she had done, she also deserved some compassion for the tragic circumstances that had brought about her complete breakdown. The Council had no interest in compassion. They would have viewed Willow as a threat to be neutralized and studied. No possibility of redemption or rehabilitation down that path. No, sirree. Giles had warned them right from the start that there was no guarantee that Willow could be rehabilitated or restored to her former self. Then Willow had woken up, but she had been totally unresponsive. They had taken her to the hospital, fearing dehydration among other things. The days there had become weeks. Doctors were consulted, tests were run, and in the end Willow had been remanded to long-term care at the asylum. And there she had remained all this time…not getting any better…slowly wasting away.

Half an hour later, Buffy emerged from Willow’s room, her face drawn and pinched. She managed to hold back the tears until she got outside the building. So intent was she on escape that she failed to notice the shadowy figure that slipped into Willow’s room surreptitiously closing the door. He was only in the room for a few minutes – just long enough to ascertain that something was very wrong with the girl he fondly referred to as “Red.” He emerged from her room wondering what the hell had been going on around here, shook his head and went in search of a nurse who could fill him in on the details of Willow’s condition.


 
 
Chapter #2 - Ch 1 - Emotions Unveiled
 


Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨





Chapter One
Emotions Unveiled






Giles looked up as a shadow fell across the text he was reading. Buffy sat down across from him and returned his questioning stare with a sad shake of her head. He sighed and looked down at the tabletop covered with texts and scrolls, most of which had yet to be deciphered. Buffy knew even before she asked that Giles had not made any more progress than she had toward curing Willow, but she asked anyway. Giles shook his head and they sat there in silence for several minutes. Anya stuck her head in to let Giles know she was stepping out to pick up lunch. “Did you want to join us, Buffy? We’re eating Szechuan today.” Buffy demurred and Anya headed out with a smile and a wave. Sure hope Giles comes up with a cure for Willow soon. We just re-opened not too long ago and it can’t be good for business for customers to walk in and see those two mopey-butts minding the shop. Anya decided to pick up the pace a little bit so she could get back sooner.

Buffy stared at her hands for several minutes before addressing Giles again. “Giles, I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me, okay?” He nodded and she went on in a rush. “Do we really have any hope left of curing Willow?” There was such despair in her voice that Giles looked at her sharply. Buffy looked down and took a moment to compose her thoughts before continuing. “When you first started this research, you were looking for a way to block Willow from being able to access powerful magick like that again to prevent her from hurting herself or anyone else. Then she ended up in the hospital and you broadened the search to include anything that might restore her awareness. It’s been 5 months now and you haven’t found anything even remotely close to what we’re looking for. Meanwhile, Willow is laying in that hospital wasting away bit by bit. She’s practically a skeleton now. She’s lost so much weight. Her face is all drawn and sunken in, and her hair is dry and brittle. Her skin is pale and waxy and sometimes I swear she isn’t breathing. When I look into those unseeing eyes of hers, I find myself thinking she’s already dead, you know.”

Buffy paused to take a deep breath before continuing. Giles was watching her closely and listening intently to everything she said. “The first time I saw Willow after Xander stopped her from…you know…I was so angry at her. Then when she woke up and wouldn’t respond to us, I became concerned about her health – both emotionally and physically. Before the doctors transferred her to the asylum, I was never alone when I saw her. I was always with you or Dawn or Xander or even one of her doctors. But since I started visiting her at the asylum, it’s just been me and her – no one else to act as a buffer. The doctors all tell me to talk to her, because we don’t know what she can hear.” She paused for another moment and Giles calmly waited for her to continue. He knew this wasn’t easy for her. Buffy had never opened up easily and other than Xander, Buffy was the most affected by what Willow did and the aftermath of her actions. Unlike Xander though, Buffy hadn’t talked to any of them about her feelings. She still kept too much inside her, although he had to admit that she was making advances in that area. He reached over and covered her clasped hands with one of his own. She smiled gratefully at him, took a deep breath and resumed her tale.

“The first time I went to see her at the asylum, I wasn’t able to say anything more than hello to her. Other than that I just sat there and stared at her. I was still so angry with her. And for the longest time I couldn’t even admit that to myself – that I was angry and hurt by what she did. I kept thinking that I needed to be a good friend and try to be there for her, but all this stuff was billowing up inside of me. And one day it just burst out while I was visiting her. I started yelling at her and I really let it all out. I didn’t hold anything back at all. When I was done, I cried and cried, but I felt better – kind of hollowed out though. She never responded during this – no facial twitches or anything at all to indicate she heard me, but I felt like she did. After that, anger was gone and only love and concern were left. Since then I’ve been visiting her on a regular basis, so I know that she’s been getting worse because I see the changes when I go to visit her. The pity I used to feel when I looked at her has been replaced by pain at what I see…pain because what used to be is no more...and I fear never will be again.”

Giles started to speak when this pause drew out, but stopped himself. Better to let her get this out in her own way and in her own time. The minutes stretched out and still Buffy did not speak. She seemed to be steeling herself up for what came next. Finally she looked up with tears in her eyes and said, “I think Willow is dying, Giles.” That statement released the tears she had been holding back and they flowed freely. Buffy buried her face in her hands until Giles was suddenly holding her tight against him, and she buried her face in his chest instead letting her grief out. Neither or them noticed the silent figure watching them from the rebuilt training room. He had come in the back door a few minutes before that and had heard enough to catch the gist of what had been going on. He moved with stealth and grace as he backed further into the shadows where no one would notice him. Few would have seen him passing them by, so quiet was he. It was no wonder that he went unnoticed by the two figures indulging their grief and pain. He stood behind the training room door and listened, as Buffy continued to sob brokenly. Finally the sobs tapered off somewhat and he could hear her blowing her nose.

After going through several tissues, she smiled apologetically at Giles who waved her off and they sat back down at the table. Giles pulled his chair closer in case another cry should be in order and motioned for her to continue when she was ready. That small but thoughtful gesture almost sent Buffy into another gale of tears, but she managed to reign herself in again. She needed to compose herself enough to finish what she had started out to say. It took a few minutes of deep breathing, but she was finally able to continue.

“Okay. Ever since I let go of all my anger toward Willow, I’ve always been able to sense her during my visits. Not so much in her actual body or personality or anything – more like an energy or a presence in the room with me – like a small current of electricity in the air – the kind that sets all the little hairs on your arm on end. Well, I started thinking that maybe she was going to get better after that, but nothing changed in her condition. Then these past few times I’ve been there…I can tell a difference.” She paused briefly.

“What kind of difference, Buffy?” Giles asked gently.

“You know when you’re in the car driving and you’re listening to the radio, how the station starts to fade as you move farther out of range? Well, that’s a bit what this is like – the signal is starting to fade. I can barely feel her when I’m there. And her eyes are changing, too.”

“Changing? What do you mean by changing? And be precise.” Giles tone was almost sharp and Buffy looked up in surprise at that.

“Uh. They’re kind of fading, too. The color seems lighter, paler almost, and her pupils seem smaller somehow. Why, Giles? Does that mean something?” Buffy questioned anxiously, not really sure she wanted to hear an answer to that.

Giles was quiet for a moment. Then he looked directly at Buffy and replied, “I honestly don’t know, Buffy. This may be perfectly normal for someone in Willow’s physical state to experience. It might be a side effect of the events a few months ago. I don’t know, but I promise you that we’ll find out. I haven’t given up hope on Willow’s recovery yet and I don’t want you to do so either. Understood?”

Buffy hesitated a moment, then looked up with a wan smile and nodded. “Can I borrow the phone, Giles? I want to call the bank and see if I can make an appointment with the loan officer about the house.”

Giles looked concerned upon hearing this, but he chose not to pry at the moment. He knew she would tell him her financial woes when she was ready and not before, but by then they might be too far gone for him to help. His slayer was fiercely proud and independent, and it wasn’t easy for her to ask for help. But he didn’t want Buffy and Dawn out on the streets before she was willing to speak up and feared that possibility. Admitting that out loud in front of him was something, and he decided to take that as a sign she would be open to talking about it. For now though, he simply nodded and let Buffy make her call.

After she hung up the phone, he asked if everything was okay financially. Buffy started to nod dismissively as she usually did, but then sat down and shared with him instead. “Dawn and I are getting by okay, but money is still very tight. I’ve been at the Doublemeat Palace for several months now, so I thought I might try to re-finance the house. Everyone’s always going on about how great interest rates are right now, and I thought that if I can reduce that bill some it would make things a lot easier on us. And don’t look at me like that, Giles. I don’t want to take your hard-earned money, so don’t even offer, okay?”

“Buffy, you know I only want to help. I appreciate that you want to do this on your own, but you know I’m here if you need anything, right?”

“I know, Giles. And thank you. That means a lot to me. On another topic totally though, would it be all right if we skipped training this afternoon? The loan officer can meet with me tomorrow and I have to work tonight. That gives me just enough time to get the papers together that I’ll need and still spend some time with Dawn before I have to change for work. I promise I’ll put in an extra hour training tomorrow after my meeting with the money man. Pleeease, Giles.” Buffy wheedled with a hint of a real smile.

Giles smiled himself in reply. He never could resist her when she cajoled him like that. “Of course, Buffy. How is Dawn doing these days? Still making the daily sojourn to Spike’s crypt?”

The figure in the training room straightened up at those words. Although his hearing was excellent – better than most, in fact – he leaned closer. He didn’t want to miss a word of this.

“Yeah. Dawn doesn’t give up very easily, I’m afraid. She stops by every day after school and goes by on weekends also. I think she’s grown really fond of Clem. They watch Jeopardy together now.” Giles had to smile at that unlikely image. “But I know she’s disappointed every time that she stops by and Spike isn’t there. She’s convinced that Spike’ll be back any day now. So sure of it that she’s been taping Passions for him, just in case he hasn’t been able to catch it where ever he is. You ought to see the stack of tapes she has for him. I don’t think she’s missed a single episode.” Buffy smiled ruefully to herself. “I’d like to say that Dawn’s being unrealistic, but if that’s so, then how come I also stop by there every night while I’m on patrol?”

Giles looked at Buffy understandingly, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye just yet. After a pause, she continued.

“At first, I told myself that I was doing it for Dawn. Then it was because Clem was staying there and he’s so gentle and there are still demons stopping by occasionally who want to fight Spike. Clem would never survive that. So, I told myself that he needed me to stop by and check on him. But the other night, this ugly old demon stopped by while I was there and started saying all these things about how Spike was never coming back and he was claiming both the crypt and the cemetery as his own. I got so angry that I couldn’t see straight. I reacted without even thinking about it. Took that demon out in the blink of an eye.” She shook her head remembering. “And not because he was a threat. Oh, no. I took him out because he had the nerve to say that Spike was never coming back. That’s why I killed him. What the hell is wrong with me anyway?” she demanded looking totally bewildered.

“Buffy, has it ever occurred to you that maybe you miss Spike? Now, before you say anything, hear me out. When I went back to England earlier this year, I spent a great deal of time journaling about my stint as your Watcher and not just a few of the extraordinary things we’ve encountered these past few years. And we have definitely seen many things that are unexplainable, that shouldn’t be, wouldn’t you agree?” Buffy nodded, wondering where he was going with this. “Anyway, of all the unusual things we’ve seen, all the impossible occurrences, etcetera… the strangest anomaly of all, the one thing I found it impossible to explain away, the one I struggled hardest to understand, and couldn’t… was Spike.” Buffy looked up in complete shock at that statement.

“Don’t look so amazed, Buffy. Think about it. Here you have a soulless vampire who has fed off the blood of innocent humans for over 100 years. During this time he also remained loyal to his sire, Drusilla, and cared for her when she was ill. He comes to Sunnydale where as you know Angelus made an appearance after Drusilla had been healed. Betrayed by his love and his grandsire, he turned to you for an unlikely alliance to stop them from ending the world. He leaves vowing never to return. By a strange twist of fortune, he does return and has a chip implanted in his head that prevents him from harming humans, effectively neutering him. In desperation, he turns to his natural enemy – the Slayer and her friends – for help and begins to form another alliance of sorts. Now, I know that he definitely strayed back and forth for a while there, switching sides on more than one occasion, giving us all reason to doubt his motives, but in the end…he proved himself worthy of at least a small modicum of trust. Unfortunately, his feelings for you came to light and he handled that situation in what can only be deemed as a less than acceptable manner. We all reacted with the assumption that he had done everything up to that point with the ulterior motive of getting in your good graces. And quite possibly we were correct… but there’s also the distinct possibility that we misjudged him, I think.”

Giles paused a moment to let his words sink in. Buffy hadn’t said anything yet, but she appeared to be listening closely. Giles wanted to make sure she was paying attention before he continued. It was time that she dealt with this issue and Giles felt that this could be very important to her future. To all of their futures, for that matter, but he doubted any of them had even the tiniest suspicion of that yet. But then again, he had only started to suspect the truth himself a short time ago. The scroll he had discovered in London had raised all sorts of interesting questions and possible answers, but before he had a chance to really pursue the matter, the crisis with Willow had come up and he had returned immediately to live full-time in Sunnydale till it was resolved at least. But he had managed to bring that scroll and several others with him, and was still trying to unravel that mystery in what little spare time he had. Giles wrenched his thoughts away from that subject and back to the matter at hand.

Buffy was waiting expectantly for Giles to continue, as was the unseen figure staring through a tiny crack in the training room door. He was waiting with bated breath to see where this would lead. With a start, he realized that he’d been holding his breath and released it suddenly. He was still getting used to that, although it had been several months since the transformation. It was strange the twists his life – or unlife, as the case may be – had taken recently. A bloke could go mad trying to sort it all out. Sometimes he thought he had done just that. He suddenly realized that his mind had wandered while Giles had started speaking again. He focused on the pair out in the shop. He didn’t want to miss any of this.

“…and the torture he endured at Glory’s hands. The tears he shed when you died. The devotion with which he looked after Dawn while you were…gone.” Giles still hated to say she had been dead. He paused again to gather his own thoughts and emotions, then continued. “Not just intense emotional displays though… everyday attributes, also. An affinity for soap operas… attachments to people, places, activities… Vampires have their own society, their own lifestyle, their own set of rules to live by. Spike has defied those rules, those norms time and again now. I don’t think all of those things can just be attributed to Spike having a chip in his head. Nor can they be credited solely to his feelings for you. I think it is safe to assume that Spike defies all known norms. I know this topic might make you a bit uncomfortable, Buffy, but I want to discuss your relationship with Spike for a bit.”

Buffy blushed and looked down. The man in the training room clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug into the palms of his hands and drew blood. He noticed neither the pain nor the blood. He was too intent on what was being said in the other room.

Giles chose his next words carefully, knowing what a delicate matter this was. “Buffy, Xander told me what Spike tried to do before he left.” Neither the blonde girl in front of him nor the man behind the training room door was able to breathe for a minute. Both were frozen by painful memories best left undisturbed. “Now, I don’t mean to pry here, but I think it’s necessary. Was this characteristic of your relationship with Spike while I was in England?” A pause. No answer. “Because I have a hard time picturing that being the case. I know Spike had a bit of an obsession with you. I know he once chained you up in a misdirected attempt to convince you of his affection. And I’m well aware that violence is a way of life for all vampires. But you are the Slayer and well able to defend yourself in any situation. To the best of my knowledge, Spike never crossed that line with you before I left – never tried to force himself on you… unless that is, there’s something you’ve neglected to tell me, hmmm?”

Buffy’s response was immediate this time. “No. Nothing like that.” She hesitated briefly, then sighed and started speaking in a low voice. “Giles… I was the one who initiated a physical relationship with Spike. The first time I kissed him, it shocked us both. And the next time I saw him after that, he didn’t try anything at all. He just wanted to talk to me about what had happened between us. Of course, I wouldn’t hear of it and turned him away. Then I kissed him again and denied it afterward. I’m sure he was getting frustrated with me, but he still didn’t try to do anything but talk to me about what was going on. Then I attacked him one night when he made me mad. We fought like we haven’t fought in forever – turns out his chip didn’t work on me anymore and he could fight back. We literally brought the house down around us, but he never tried to bite me or kill me. Well, um, er, I guess there’s no easy way to say this next part. I jumped his bones.” Giles was suddenly very busy polishing his glasses, but she knew he was listening to her closely. “I initiated sexual contact between us, and he was… I don’t have the words to describe his reaction to that. He was in total shock that I would share myself with him. No one has ever looked at me with such a look of adoration and love and awe before. No one.” Buffy paused to take a breath and gather herself before going on. “We spent the night together and it was incredible.” More glasses polishing. That made Buffy smirk a bit. Giles was so easy to fluster sometimes. “Anyway, the next morning I ruined it all. He made some smart-ass typical Spike comment and I flipped out on him. God, I was horrible. I told him he was nothing to me. That he was just convenient and nothing more. That this meant nothing at all. He was hurt, but responded with anger and said some nasty things back to me. But that was it. He didn’t strike out at me physically or anything. And I left, promising myself that nothing would ever happen again. Of course, it did happen again, many more times. But I was the one who initiated everything at first. Even after we had started sleeping together, Spike still waited on me. He didn’t try to force anything and he kept quiet about it when he could have gone bragging to Xander or someone and made my life hell.”

Buffy laughed bitterly at her last comment. “Except that my life was already a living hell and it had nothing to do with Spike. He was the only thing that made it better. Not that I ever told him that. Oh, no. I couldn’t say anything nice to him. Couldn’t be nice to the evil soulless monster, could I? ‘Cause what kind of person did that make me that I wanted to sleep with a bloodsucking fiend? I never saw him as Spike, the man. He was always Spike, the soulless beast. And I never missed an opportunity to remind him of this fact. I’d go to him and get what I wanted and then I’d take my leave of him, reminding him once again that he wasn’t worthy of me. I shut him out of my life, Dawn’s life, patrolling, everything I could. Kept him as my dark hidden secret.”

Buffy stared off moodily for a few moments and sighed again. “And he took it, Giles. Whatever I dished out, he took. And I dished out a lot. And I know he’s a vampire and can take a lot, but you don’t know how it was, Giles.” A pause to gather her nerve. “There was one night that I thought I had killed a girl. It wasn’t true. Turned out to be a setup by the evil nerd trio, but we didn’t know that then. Spike tried to help me out by hiding the body. When I went to the police station to turn myself in, I was overwhelmed by guilt and so many other emotions. Spike was there and tried to stop me from going in. Do you know how he tried to stop me? By blocking my path and talking to me. He even asked me to explain it to him when I said that he didn’t get it. And do you know how I responded to that? I beat the shit out of him, that’s how. And I don’t mean that we sparred or fought. I mean that I beat him senseless. I took out all of my self-hatred and loathing on him. I let him have everything and then some. And he took it all. He just lay there and willingly let me beat him up. Figured if it helped me out, then it was worth it. After I beat him unconscious, I walked away and left him lying there in that alley to greet the sun. Even after I found out I hadn’t killed that girl, I still didn’t go back and check on him. I just went home and went to bed. To this day I don’t know how he got home that night.” Giles looked at her compassionately throughout this confession, and that gave her the courage to keep going.

“No matter what I did, Spike never got violent with me. After that initial fight where he found out he could hit me, he never did it again. He didn’t once try to bite me when we were, uh, involved intimately. Oh, sure, he said a lot of stuff. Made lewd, suggestive comments at every possible opportunity. And he was always trying to get me to admit that I loved him, but that was it. He did reach a point where he started coming round and initiating sex, but I was a very willing partner in all that.”

“After I finally ended things with Spike, he was hurt and angry. Riley had just been in town and we had destroyed his crypt. Blew up the entire bottom level. And not like I even offered to help him clean up. I totally trashed his house and that was fine, because I’m the Slayer and what I do is right and he’s a vampire and what he does is wrong. And maybe he did deserve it because of those stupid demon eggs that were down there, but I still don’t even know if he really knew what they were or what he was doing with them. Anyway, that’s not important. The point is that he was hurt and angry and rejected and humiliated… and he still didn’t do anything. He didn’t try to get even with me by hurting me physically or telling anything to my friends.” Another pause to gaze around the room and down at the table before them. “You know, I told him to move on and find someone else. But I was so upset when he ended up sleeping with Anya. I felt so hurt, so betrayed. Stupid, huh?” Buffy smiled a bit self-deprecatingly at that.

“All along he kept telling me that I had feelings for him, but I pushed him away every time. Kept denying the possibility of any feelings at all. I said some pretty cold things to him right before he ended up in bed with Anya. I hurt him worse than even I realized. I wounded him, Giles. Still he didn’t try to do anything to hurt me at all. He didn’t go to Anya for sex. He went there for a spell to stop himself from feeling so miserable over me. From what I gathered later on, there was a great deal of alcohol and misery-induced reminiscing involved before they ever got physical. And I have no one to blame for any of that but myself. Spike is loyal and if I hadn’t pushed him away, he never would have wandered. I really don’t think he would have slept with her or anyone else regardless of how much alcohol was involved if it hadn’t been for the other factors.” The figure in the training room shook his head grimly at that statement and silently mouthed “No” as a lone tear trickled down his cheek.

“Anyway I have to take my share of the blame for how things ended between us, you see. Because I certainly didn’t handle things well from the get-go. I knew he was in love with me and I toyed with his feelings by getting sexually involved with him when I didn’t feel the same way.” A deep sigh and a shake of the head. “When he came over that night, it was to apologize for what had happened with Anya. He was sorry that he had hurt me.” A hollow laugh. “Can you believe that? I never once even thought about apologizing to the evil vampire for anything I did to him, but the same supposedly soulless fiend comes to me to apologize because something that he had every right to do had hurt me.” Another pause to reflect on this amazing fact again. Another bitter sigh. “But I wouldn’t listen. I handled it like I handle everything else. I shut him out. He was trying to reach out to me and I refused to even hear him out. I don’t think he meant to force himself on me, Giles. I know he didn’t. Things got out of hand between us and it escalated. And when I was saying no…well, I’d said no so many times before when it actually meant yes… I don’t excuse what he did. It was still wrong, but I had played with his emotions like a yoyo…and the string snapped this time. I don’t think he even heard me telling him to stop. I don’t think he realized that I was crying. When I kicked him off of me, there was the look on his face that I’ll never forget…a combination of sudden realization, rising horror, a profound sense of shock, and nausea at the thought of what he’d been trying to do to me. He seemed to be so hurt by the awareness of what he’d tried to do. Of course, I couldn’t allow myself to see that and accept it back then. Oh, no. Not Buffy. Little Miss Perfect can’t acknowledge any good in the evil vampire at all. I was so full of righteous anger. I kicked him out – out of my house, out of my life, and apparently out of town. No one’s seen him since that night and I don’t think he’s going to return this time. Why would he after the way I treated him? Would you come back to that?”

Buffy stopped talking as she realized this was the most she’d ever shared about her pseudo-relationship with Spike up until now, and with her surrogate father no less. She looked at Giles, trying to gauge his reaction. His expression was not what she expected. Not the total disapproval that all the Scoobies had given her upon learning that she’d been involved with Spike. No disgust or disappointment in her now exposed shameful behavior toward Spike. Nor were there any of the other reactions she had been subjected to afterward. No relief that Spike was gone and this was over, could be swept away and ignored now – like Xander. No obvious hope that he would return any day and they could work things out somehow – like Dawn. She didn’t even see any signs of the hysterical laughter that had characterized Giles’ initial reaction to her involvement with Spike. Instead, he looked understanding, sympathetic, non-judjmental and loving. He smiled at her compassionately and opened his arms to embrace her in a fatherly hug.

After a few moments, they separated and Buffy reached for a tissue to wipe away the tears of relief at his reaction to her revelations. “Buffy, I didn’t know the details, but I rather suspected that it wasn’t as black and white as Xander had made it out to be. I appreciate you being open with me. I know that wasn’t easy for you. Was this the first time you’ve admitted all that to anyone?” A nod of confirmation. “Well, I appreciate your trust and will respect your confidence. But I encourage you to seriously consider telling the others. It might help them to understand your actions, and also your reactions to them better.” Buffy shook her head to show that she understood, but didn’t look too thrilled at the idea of telling the others. Oh, well. One step at a time. “Buffy, It’s hard for me to be objective where you are concerned. You realize that you’re like a daughter to me, and I don’t think that you’ll ever meet anyone that I think is good enough for you.” Giles smiled fondly at Buffy and squeezed her hand. That comment warranted a genuine smile filled with warmth and gratitude.

“When you compound that with what Spike is…well, it would be difficult at best. But when you look at who Spike is and what he has done, then you have to be willing to consider the possibility at least. Buffy, I do believe that Spike’s feelings for you are real. Realize though that he would always be at war with his own nature. I’m not surprised that your relationship crossed over into violence. What I am surprised by is that it was the human and not the vampire that initiated most of that violence. No judgment here, mind you, just an observation. What is even more surprising is that if I understand you correctly, Spike was both ashamed and most likely guilt-ridden afterward, and that is not common behavior in any vampire – let alone one without a soul. The behavior modification chip monitors Spike’s actions only to a point and it does not control or direct his emotions and motivations. That comes from another place, and since he does not have a soul, then we must assume that the demon is the controlling factor. So, although he may love you totally and truly, he will always be at war with himself to a degree. His love for you might actually win out over his vampiric nature – with or without the chip even – but the battle would always be going on inside him. He would have to fight it every single day. Then again, what I just said in no way explains his affection and concern for Dawn, his loyalty to your memory or any of the other peculiarities that make up Spike. I hope you can appreciate why I have been unable to rationalize or explain away Spike and his actions.”

“I get that.” Buffy said ruefully. “I really do. He always was such a contradiction. Even teenage slayer me could see that. I used to wonder how someone dead over a century could enjoy life more than anyone I knew. Or how he could be so in love with Drusilla. Lots of things I never got about Spike. Probably never will. Unfortunately, I don’t know that I’ll get a chance to find out for myself. I know he’s got a demon to deal with, but he tried and I never gave him any credit for it at all. I have a soul, but I’m the one who acted like a monster. I’d like to at least get a chance to tell him I’m sorry. Share with him some of what I’ve told you today. But I don’t think that’s going to happen. He’s gone and I don’t think he’s coming back this time. Sometimes I wonder if he left because of me or in spite of me…or if it really matters either way if he’s not coming back.”

“Buffy, I’ve no doubt whatsoever that Spike will eventually return. He seems to be drawn here. The question you should be asking yourself is not if he’ll return, but rather how you will react when he does. For, Buffy, my dear girl, it’s obvious to me that you have some very strong and unresolved feelings toward Spike… And there’s nothing wrong with that, you know.” Two heads jerked up in amazement at that statement, although one reaction went unnoticed by any save a fly buzzing around the training room.

“Giles, what are you saying?” Buffy asked in no small state of shock. “Do you approve of me having a relationship with Spike?”

“Umm, not exactly. I don’t totally disapprove either though. Buffy, I’ve come to realize many things this past year. You are like a daughter to me, and I want you to be happy. However, you’re also the Slayer and slayers don’t normally live very long, so your safety is as important to me as your happiness. I came to realize a long time ago that your friends and family, the relationships you’ve formed with others is what has kept you going…made you strong…helped you grow…made you who you are. If Spike is a part of that, then I accept it. You will never have a conventional lifestyle by virtue of your calling. Why should I think you would have a conventional relationship? If you are going to be involved with anyone, then I’d like it to be someone who can help you, protect you, look after you, and truly love you. Spike just might fit that bill better than most.”

Buffy just stared at Giles, totally blown away by what he was saying. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find any words.

Giles smiled at her and continued. “I’m not trying to faust anyone on you. Nor am I encouraging you to pursue anything. However, you could have turned to anyone last year if all you wanted was a physical affair. You chose Spike, knowing exactly who and what he is. Even before that, you trusted him with Dawn’s care and she means more to you than anyone else. What does that say about your feelings for him, eh?” Buffy swallowed hard, totally at a loss. Giles smiled at her reassuringly.

“You don’t have to deal with this now, but you will eventually have to and I believe it will be sooner rather than later. A soulless vampire should not be capable of the emotions that Spike has shown on more than one occasion. It goes against the very essence of what a vampire is. Yet he has somehow transcended that nature. When Spike returns, regardless of how you feel about him Buffy, I do honestly believe that it would behoove all of us to help him on his journey.”

“What do you mean by that, Giles?”

“I mean that rather than looking for any signs that he’s up to his old tricks, rather than suspecting him of always having ulterior motives, rather than looking down on him… Perhaps we should help Spike to start over. Give him a clean slate and see what he does with it. Encourage him. Support him. I doubt he’s ever had that before – as a human or a vampire. What I’m saying, Buffy, is that I believe Spike is redeemable and I would be remiss if I wasn’t willing to assist him along the way. I actually think he started down that path quite some time ago and none of us could see it…or wanted to see it, for that matter. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Buffy, and I’ll respect your feelings in this matter also, but I’d like to help Spike when we see him again. What do you say?”

Buffy didn’t speak for what seemed like an eternity to the man with the racing pulse who stood behind the training room door. When she finally did speak, it was in a tightly controlled voice that belied the depth of emotion behind her words.

“When I fell in love with Angel, you all thought I was crazy. When he lost his soul and turned evil again, I still loved him. That didn’t go away. Having to kill him was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. It nearly destroyed me. So many people I’ve loved have left me in one fashion or another – my dad, Angel, Riley, my mom, even you. None of them came back, except for you. Spike was just there at first, always underfoot. I guess I got used to having him around after a while…he sort of grew on me. You’re right about me entrusting him with Dawn – and that was over the rest of you even – and not just because he was strong and could protect her. I knew he would die before he’d allow anyone to hurt her…or me either, for that matter. I was – and still am – attracted to him on many levels. We’ve had a passionate and intense relationship for years – whether it was love, hate or even somewhere in-between. I can’t deny the intensity of what’s there. I told him I didn’t trust him, but that wasn’t it. I told him he didn’t have a soul, but that wasn’t it. I told him I didn’t love him, but that wasn’t it either.” Her voice was both breaking and rising at the same time, and she stopped short to collect herself.

Giles said nothing, waiting patiently for her to go on. The man behind the door stood as still as a statue, hardly breathing as he also waited for her to continue. Although many things had changed for him in the past few months and his priorities were quite different these days, nothing else mattered at this particular moment except what Buffy would say next.

“I couldn’t allow myself to love him, Giles, because I couldn’t bear the thought that something might happen where I would have to stake him. I couldn’t kill someone else I loved again. I don’t think I could come back from that again. So I couldn’t love him. I couldn’t risk it. No matter how I felt about him – how I still feel about him. I can’t go through that again.” And with that, Buffy broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably. Giles held her, waiting for the storm to abate.

In the training room, the man whose hopes and fears had been pinned on what he’d just heard stood still in utter shock and amazement. He’d never suspected – not even once. How blind can I be? Don’t go there, mate. Start reviewing your own stupidity and you’ll be here all night. Time to leave before you get caught back here. This is not how you want to meet up with any of them again.

He took one last peek through the crack in the door and shook his head in disbelief again. He’d go see Giles in a day or two, but he had some business to tend to first. He strode purposefully to the back door with a small smile on his face – the first real smile in months. The man who no longer knew what to call himself – the man formerly known as Spike…William the Bloody… Wlliam Atherton III…walked out the back door and stepped into the sunlight.



¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨




 
 
Chapter #3 - Ch 2 - The Fairy Godfather
 



Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨





Chapter Two
The Fairy Godfather





Buffy was in the kitchen fixing dinner when Dawn came in. “Something actually smells good in here, Buffy. What are you making?” Buffy offered a wooden spoon for a taste. Dawn cautiously tasted the sauce and looked up in surprise. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister, the non-cook?”

“Very funny, Dawn. I guess that snide remark means this recipe tastes better than the others I’ve tried.”

“Seriously, Buffy,” Dawn laughed “this is great. What is it?”

“Beef stroganoff. The secret is in the sour cream. It was Mom’s recipe, but she stopped making it after Dad left. It was his favorite.” Buffy trailed off momentarily. When she looked up again, Dawn was staring at her with a quizzical expression. “It’s nothing, Dawnie. Really. Just old memories…made me misty-eyed for a moment. This is just about ready. You want to set the table and pour drinks while I finish up here? You can tell me all about your day.”

Dawn launched into a detailed narrative of the latest exploits of some of the kids at school. Buffy was only half listening until Dawn reached the part of her day where she went to visit Spike, or rather Clem at Spike’s crypt.

“So, how is Clem today? Any news, I mean anything new going on over there?” Buffy finished lamely.

“Not really.” Dawn replied noncommittally, careful to keep her face turned so Buffy wouldn’t see her expression. But she must have caught something in her tone of voice that tipped her off, because Buffy’s head snapped up and she stared wide-eyed at Dawn. “Come on, Dawn. Spill.” Darn those slayer senses. It’s hard enough keeping something from your sister anyway, but when your sister is the Slayer, well just forget it. Oh, well…

“Buffy, really, it’s nothing. Well, okay it’s a couple of nothings but it’s really nothing.” Noticing her sister’s aggravated expression that was definitely expanding by the moment, Dawn hurried to explain. “Okay, see, I stopped by to see Clem, but he wasn’t there. I noticed a pack of smokes on the arm of the chair and Clem doesn’t smoke. Then, I was coming through town on my way home and I saw this man who looked just like Spike walking down the street. Well, Spike with brown curly hair, that is. Then I looked in the hall closet when I got home and his leather duster isn’t there anymore like it’s been for the past 5 months. And I know none of those things are really anything by themselves, but put together…” Dawn trailed off at the pained expression on Buffy’s face.

“Sorry, Dawn.” She said quietly. “I should have told you, but I just didn’t think about it. I took Spike’s coat and gave it to Clem last night when I was on patrol. I’m sure the cigarettes probably fell out of the coat pocket on the chair or something. And that couldn’t have been Spike you saw in town if he was in direct sunlight. Not that I can imagine him actually getting a new do, but unless this guy was under a smoking blanket…I think we can safely assume it wasn’t him.” Buffy smiled weakly. “I know you want to see him again, honey.” she said gently as she served up their dinner. “But we have to be realistic about this, okay.”

“I know, Buffy. And realistically speaking, he’s been gone for 5 months now and he may never come back… But I don’t believe that. This is Spike we’re talking about. He loves us – you, me. I’m pretty sure he considers Sunnyhell home. And I doubt he’d ever admit it, but I think he’s fond of the rest of the Scoobies too. I know you two didn’t exactly part on good terms, but I know he’ll come back one of these days.”

“Perhaps.” It was Buffy’s turn to respond noncommittally and try to hide her expression. “Now eat before it gets cold.”

“Buffy.” After several minutes of silence.

“Yeah, Dawn.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why now? Why did you take Spike’s leather coat to the crypt after all this time?”

No answer for a moment. Then in a low voice, “Because it was his and it was important to him. He never went anywhere without it.” Buffy trailed off again for a moment. This is my day for hard questions apparently. “Because if Spike does come back, I want him to have it. And I don’t want him to have to come here to get it.” An almost inaudible “Oh.” from Dawn was all the response that followed that statement.

“No, Dawn. That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean that I don’t want Spike coming to the house. I just meant that I don’t want him coming here because of the coat. I’d rather he came to see, er, us, you and me, you see.” Buffy blushed and fiddled with her food. And Dawn smiled to herself because she did indeed see.


¨¨¨¨¨



Across town, Spike was staring at that same leather duster with a mixture of revulsion, surprise, and fascination. Revulsion at what it represented from his past. Surprise that he hadn’t thought of the blasted duster before now when it used to be like a 2nd skin to him. And fascination at what he had found inside the jacket pocket. Bugger. What was that? Clem’s talking and I have no idea what about. Best pay attention.

In fact, Clem wasn’t making a whole lot of sense at the moment, but he didn’t particularly care. He had been truly overjoyed to discover Spike was back and was trying to fill him in on a million things at once. He was saying something about that bloke, Rack, being dead. Bloody good. That chap was bad news. Pity I didn’t take him out myself earlier. Maybe I could have helped avoid some trouble later on. Oh, well. What’s done is done. Time to focus on what comes next.

“Clem, buddy, listen... I can’t stay long. I just stopped by to pick up a few things I need and then I’ll be on my way again.” Seeing the surprised and disappointed look on Clem’s face, he decided a bit of an explanation was in order, but just a bit. He was in a hurry, damn it. “Listen, Clem. No one can know I’m back, okay? Not anyone at all, especially not the Little Bit. Dawn’d go straight to Buffy and I’m just not ready for that yet. See? I’ve got some business to tend to and it just might turn out to be very important. I’m not sure yet, but it’s got to come first, okay?”

“All right, Spike. I won’t tell anyone you’re back, but why can’t you stay here? I can cover for you.”

“Too dangerous, mate. Too many folks know this is my place and might see me here. I need to be able to come and go unseen for a while yet. And if you move out, someone might put two and two together and go looking for me elsewhere. If you’re here and I’m not, then anyone looking in just assumes that nothing’s changed and I haven’t returned yet. So, I need you to keep staying here for now, okay? And don’t breathe a word of this to anyone. You’ll be safe here. Buffy and her gang will keep an eye out for you. And I’ll leave you a way to get in touch with me as soon as I get settled, just in case you need anything.”

“Sure, Spike, but you are back for good, right? You’re going to move back in here after you take care of all this business of yours, right?” Clem looked at his friend expectantly.

Spike hesitated. “I don’t know yet, Clem. That depends on a lot of things, but I promise that you haven’t seen the last of me.” And he gathered up his things and headed for the door. Clem’s parting question stopped him in his tracks.

“Don’t you want your coat?”

“Burn it.” Came the terse replay and then he was gone again leaving behind a puzzled Clem.

After he had gotten everything set up in his new place, Spike looked around and admired his handiwork. The place looked downright homey and no one would ever think to look for him here. So, he was safe for the moment. Time to rest. It had been a long day. But before he drifted off to sleep, he pulled out the envelope addressed to him in Buffy’s handwriting. He had found it in the leather jacket, and had been shocked to see it. It was with no small amount of trepidation that he opened the letter inside and began to read.

“Dear William:

As I write this, I have no idea where you are, when – if ever – you might read this, or if you’re even still alive. I feel in my heart that you are alive and I hope with all my heart that you do return one day so I can talk to you. I have so much to say, and I’m not going to try to put it all down in this letter.

A lot has happened since you’ve been gone that made me realize how unfair I was to you when you were here. You did so much for me and Dawn and I never really acknowledged it. I don’t think I even thanked you for anything, except once, maybe twice. I looked down on you and took you for granted, and I judged you…for past actions, for future wrongs I thought you would eventually commit, and just for being a vampire. I was so intently focused on what you are, that I refused to see who you are. I refused to acknowledge the man inside you who had reached out to me so many times.

Please forgive me for denying that you could be anything more than what I defined you as. You tried to talk to me so many times and I never listened. Perhaps if I had then things would have turned out differently. I don’t know what could have been between us, and I don’t know what could still be for us, or if there even is an “us” to consider. Maybe you don’t want me anymore. Maybe I’ve screwed things up so badly that you’re not coming back. But I hope that I’m wrong about that. I hope you do come back. I want to see you again, talk to you, try to figure this out…together. If you’re willing to hear me out, please come by the house any time. You always have an invitation.

Buffy”


He fell asleep with a peaceful, contented expression on his face despite the tear stained tracks on his cheeks, clutching the letter fiercely to his breast even in sleep.

¨¨¨¨¨



“Giles! Giles! I can’t believe it!” Buffy shouted excitedly as she ran into the Magic Box. Both Giles and Anya looked up in amazement. No one had seen Buffy this excited since before her mother had died. She actually looked truly happy about something for a change.

They had been going over some books at the round table when Buffy burst in. Giles straightened up self-consciously, suddenly aware of how close he was to Anya and how good her hair smelled.

Buffy’s eyes were glowing warmly as she stared at them expectantly. “I just can’t believe you did that for me and Dawn. We’ll never be able to thank you enough or to repay you.” Buffy gushed. Giles simply stared at her, and Buffy noticed the blank expressions on both their faces. Anya’s she expected, but not Giles. Nor did she expect him to say what she heard next.

“Buffy, I’m glad you’re happy about something, but I haven’t the foggiest notion what you’re talking about.”

“You mean you didn’t pay off the house for me?”

Giles almost fell over at this news. “Umm, no. When did this happen? How did this happen?”

“Well, you tell me.” Buffy replied. “I went to the bank today to meet with the loan officer. I’m talking to him about the possibility of refinancing the house when he pulls up my account. He then proceeds to tell me the loan has a zero balance and I should expect the cancelled mortgage to arrive within 30 days. When I told him that must be a mistake, he checked their records and the loan was paid off at their branch. The girl at the counter said a brown-haired man with glasses and an accent paid it off in cash yesterday afternoon. I just assumed that was you. Who else would it be?”

Giles mouth opened and closed several times before any noise came out. “I am positively flummoxed. I have no idea who would have done that for you. It wasn’t me, though. I don’t have that kind of money laying around…especially in cash. Although I would love to be able to take credit for making you so happy and relieving you of such a burden, I can’t. I have no idea what’s going on here.”

Buffy looked puzzled, but smiled again and quipped, “Maybe the Powers That Be granted me a Fairy Godfather to make my wishes come true, because that’s not the only good thing that happened today. I got a call this morning from the police. And not the ‘uh, oh, you’re in trouble now’ kind of call for a change. They want to offer some self-defense classes at the community center, on campus and at a few other places. Someone recommended me as a potential instructor. I met with them this morning and gave them a demonstration of what I can do – toned down a bit, of course and sans the wooden stake. They offered me a job on the spot. Can you believe that? I’ll be teaching basic courses 3-4 times a week and possibly an intermediate class as well. And I’ll make way more money than I do now. I can quit the Doublemeat Palace. Yay, me!!”

“Buffy, that’s terrific. That means you won’t come home smelling like grease anymore. Of course, now you’ll be sweaty instead when you leave work, but at least the odor will be yours and not manufactured.” Anya observed brightly not noticing Buffy’s expression.

Giles decided this might be a good time to jump back into this conversation. “Buffy, I am very pleased for you on both counts, but I’m also curious to know who your mysterious benefactor is. Do you know who recommended you for this job…if it might be the same individual that paid off your house?”

“Nope.” Buffy cheerfully replied. “I asked, but no one seemed to know for sure. I’m seriously thinking the Fairy Godfather angle might not be so far-fetched after all. Either way, that’s two major burdens lifted off of me. I feel like I’ve been given a new lease on life. I want to celebrate. Let’s have a party. That is what people still do to express glee, isn’t it?” Buffy twirled around and around while she was talking.

Seeing the stunned expressions around her, she stopped to regain her balance. “I know, I know. It’s been a while since I’ve wanted to express any glee. But maybe, just maybe, all that’s going to change. Maybe that Fairy Godfather can help out in some other areas, too. I just know that I feel hopeful again and happy for the first time in ages. I need to work off some of this energy. I’ll be in the training room.” And she pranced off leaving Giles and Anya staring after her.

Buffy was as good as her word. They celebrated that very night with an impromptu get-together at the Summers house. The tone was upbeat for a change, which was nice. Everyone was excited for Dawn and Buffy about the house being paid off. Buffy was practically giddy about the new job. Dawn kept touching the furniture and exclaiming that it was actually all theirs. Everyone toasted Buffy’s “Fairy Godfather” and no one mentioned the significant changes that had occurred in the Scooby dynamics this past year or the absence of certain members of the group. Anya and Xander were civil, if not warm, to each other. This was a night to celebrate, and for the first time in months, they had a good time being together as a group.

Spike watched from the shadows outside Buffy’s house. He didn’t stay long…just a brief while so he could witness the joy on his Niblet’s face and the relief and happiness on Buffy’s face. That was all the thanks he felt was needed. After a few minutes, he strode off into the darkness smiling to himself. If I ever decide to tell Buffy about this, she’ll have to come up with a better title than Fairy Godfather. Like I’m a poofter, or something. ‘Course she doesn’t know it’s me, but the comparison is still somewhat demeaning none-the-less…















 
 
Chapter #4 - Ch 3 - Speak of the Devil
 



Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨




Chapter Three
Speak of the Devil





Giles was a bit late getting to the Magic Box the next day. It wasn’t easy getting up after so little sleep and quite a bit of celebrating. He didn’t notice that anything was amiss at first, but then he heard a noise in the training room. He knew it wasn’t Anya since he’d given her the morning off. She deserved it. What a hard worker that girl is, and so bright and talented. Lovely actually… Where was I again? Oh, yes. No one else had keys to the place, so that meant an intruder. Giles picked up a sword from the display case and cautiously edged toward the door. Perhaps he could take whoever it was off-guard. Silently he nudged the door open and stared at the quietly retreating figure before him. The lithe brown-haired man in jeans and a t-shirt wasn’t carrying anything and didn’t appear to have any merchandise hidden on his person. Since the money was put up in the safe each night or taken to the bank night drop, Giles was a bit confused by what the would-be thief might have actually taken or wanted to take. So caught up in his own musings, he didn’t actually say anything until the intruder had opened the back door to leave. As sunlight washed over him, illuminating his frame, Giles recovered his wits and took a few steps into the room. “I say, chap. Mind telling me why you broke into my shop?”

The man immediately stopped and turned around, but didn’t say anything right away. The glare from outside prevented Giles from actually seeing the man’s face, but when he spoke, there was no doubt who it was standing before him. “Hallo, Rupert. I had just given up on you. Late night?”

Giles lowered the sword and stared in amazement as Spike shut the back door and walked toward him. Neither spoke for a moment. Giles was trying to process too many things at once to speak, and Spike was giving him time to adjust. Giles let the facts register one at a time – Spike standing in front of him, same cockney accent (would recognize that voice anywhere), brown hair and curly at that, not baking in the sunlight (actually looks like he has a tan), wearing glasses, not being sarcastic or nasty for a change. This is just too much to compute, system overload possible. I need a cup of tea. Spike smiled, genuinely enjoying the expressions and emotions flitting across Giles’ face.

“I made us a spot o’ tea earlier, but I didn’t realize you’d be so late today or I would have waited.” He smiled ruefully and indicated they should sit down. “I know you’ve got lots of questions and so do I, but first I have to know if you’re expecting any of the other Scoobies any time soon. I’m not ready to see them just yet.

Giles shook his head and struggled to find words as Spike poured them each a cup of tea. “No. Xander is at work. I gave Anya the morning off. She’ll be in after lunch though. And Buffy was taking Dawn shopping today. Some sort of high school dance coming up. I’m certain they won’t be coming up for air any time soon.” He sipped the tea and smiled appreciatively. Nothing like a proper cuppa. Who knew this berk could make one?

Spike noticed and grinned. Raising his cup in mock salute, they drank silently for a moment. Then Spike shook his head. “All right then, to business. First, can we talk back here? I want to keep a low profile.”

“Yes, I can see the front door from here.”

“Good. I don’t know exactly where to start, but I need to let you know that I was in here the other day and overheard you and Buffy. I was trying to get a handle on what had happened while I was gone. I saw Buffy and followed her to the Sunnydale Asylum where I found out about Red. I was a bit wigged out by what I learned there, so I came here next. I came in through the back. You should really think about changing that lock, by the way. Anyone can just walk right in.” Spike smirked slightly. “When I arrived, Buffy was already here, and you two were talking about Willow, so I listened. Then you started talking about me, and I couldn’t leave without hearing that. I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but I couldn’t help myself.” He paused a moment. “Anyway, I wanted you to know that I heard what you said about me and I appreciate it. Truly. It means a lot to me.” Another pause. “Oh, and I wanted to apologize for eavesdropping…and breaking in, too.” he added hastily.

Giles had to laugh at Spike apologizing for a little B&E and eavesdropping given his past. Spike looked surprised at first, then joined him. After a few moments, the both got serious again. Giles spoke first. “Why don’t we talk about what you’ve missed here first. I have a feeling those questions may be easier to answer. How much do you know?”

“Enough to put most of it together. That chap Warren apparently shot and killed Tara, and that sent Willow off the deep end. She was juiced up on the dark magic, tore up the town, killed Warren, apparently wrecked the Magic Box (although it looks pretty sharp now – good repair job), tried to kill Warren’s two little cronies in crime, tried to end the world and had a mental meltdown of some kind. Now I don’t have a problem with her killing that bloody dealer, Rack. He was bad news and not really human anyway. And Warren probably got what was coming to him in the end. But Red’s in real bad shape and it isn’t just from her trip to the dark side. Something else is responsible for the current state she’s in. Somethin’ ugly that’s not going to leave easily or quietly. We’re goin’ to have a fight on our hands if we want to get her back whole.”

“Spike, back up a bit. I didn’t follow you round that last bend. What do you know about Willow’s condition that I don’t?”

“Are you familiar with this symbol?” he pulled a drawing out of his pants pocket. “It’s a brand.” he continued as Giles studied the paper. “Certain demons will brand humans in their service. Marks them as chattel, you know, keeps the competition away from what’s yours, helps you locate them more easily when you want their services. Works a bit like a tracking device. Similar to a vampire’s mark, but different. Where the brand is placed is highly significant. Brands on the back and shoulders are most common because they can be easily covered. You get my drift?”

Giles nodded, starting to realize where this was leading. “You found this symbol on Willow, didn’t you?” Spike nodded gravely. “Aye. This one is easy to miss unless you happen to be looking for it. This is etched into the skin on the back of her neck just above the nape. Hard to see through that mop of red hair, but it’s definitely there. Giles, the only time the brand is placed there is when the person in question is being used as a vessel to carry or hide something. I’m not familiar enough with that specific symbol to know exactly what we’re dealing with here, but I know this is serious. It’s been content to stay hidden – all wrapped up in Willow for some time now – probably since her attempt to end the world. So, you can bet it’s something particularly nasty.”

“Of course,” Giles said. “Why didn’t I think of this before now? Willow was channeling some pretty powerful forces at the end before she shut down. She was emotional, unstable, and completely open to the dark magicks. There’s no telling what could have decided to hitch a ride with her when things started flowing. I’ll get started researching this symbol right away. Thank you for showing this to me, Spike.” Spike nodded in return.

“Whatever it turns out to be, Giles, I’ll help you defeat it for Willow’s sake, but I want your solemn word that you won’t share anything about my involvement in this with Buffy and the others. They don’t need to know what role I played or that I’m even here yet.”

“Well, all right, I’ll keep your secret on the condition that you tell me why you’re so adamant about not seeing or talking to the others. Xander I can certainly understand, but you heard what Buffy had to say the other day. You know she wants to see you and you must realize how much Dawn has missed you. Why don’t you want to see the two of them?”

“It’s too complicated to fully explain, but I’ll try to do it justice. You know what went down between me and Buffy right before I left town. I won’t pretend that I’m proud of that, because I’m not – at all. However, that night was a turning point for me. I was wracked by guilt afterward and I didn’t understand what I was feeling or why. I knew I was trapped somewhere between two states of being – man and monster…good and evil, so to speak. I had tried to be a good man, but I couldn’t. I kept messing things up royally, and when I did manage to do something right, then my motives were questioned. I couldn’t be a man, but how could I be a monster either? The damn chip wouldn’t let me go back to my old ways. I decided that I had to make a choice and change things for myself or die trying. I couldn’t live like that anymore. So, I left…” Spike trailed off as he relived that moment of decision.

“Where did you go?” Giles asked curiously and then proceeded to lose all color whatsoever when he heard the answer. He gaped at Spike in absolute amazement.

“So, you faced the tests and passed, or you wouldn’t be sitting here now.” Giles stated. Spike nodded while looking Giles straight in the eye. “And afterward the demon granted your request.” Another nod. No flinching. Still maintaining eye contact. “Dare I ask what that was?” Spike smiled and said simply, “My soul. It restored my soul.” The words hung poignantly in the air between them. Neither spoke for several minutes, both pondering the magnitude of that statement.

Finally Giles spoke again. “What happened next, Spike?”

“I don’t remember the next few days all that clearly, to be honest. He gave me what I asked for all right, and it hurt like hell. Felt like he’d seared my skin off, then put it back on but stitched it back a little too tight. I was disoriented, dazed…I wandered for some time. Ended up in a jungle somewhere. Woke up at midday in the middle of a clearing with the sunlight streaming down on me. I was still a bit out of it at that point and it was a while before I even realized that I sunlight wasn’t affecting me. Once that sank in, it gave me reason to pause. I just enjoyed the feel of the sun beating down on me for some time. As I sat there, I realized that I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I was human again! I felt drunk as all these dizzying realizations swept over me. I laughed out loud and shouted in fierce joy. I was still there chuckling to myself (not sure how much later – could have been days) when this couple found me. Are you familiar with Mitchell and Ruth Crispin?” Off Giles surprised nod and sharp look, “Yeah, they said you’d remember them well enough. Guess I’m not the only one with a story to tell, eh?”

“Well, apparently they had gotten wind of something odd happening and they were actually out searching for me. I didn’t realize that at the time. I thought they were just some local missionary types doing a good deed. They gave me some food and water and helped me to my feet. I was a little bit unsteady at first, so they supported me while we walked. I was feeling a tad better and had just opened my mouth to ask them what day it was, when a vicious jungle cat attacked us. I reacted without even thinking. I vamped out and dispatched the cat in short work. I didn’t feed on it and I had no desire to do so, but I was some kind of shocked when I realized that I had on my gameface. I got a bit wigged by this, I guess. I, uh, basically passed out – heat stroke, dehydration, shock, maybe a combination of all of them.” Giles was surprised to see that Spike was actually blushing at this point.

“Anyway, the Crispins carried me back to their camp and tended to me there. I woke up a couple of days later in a cool room lying on a bed and actually needing the sheets because it was chilly. Took me a bit of time before I realized it hadn’t been a dream. Pinched myself hard, felt my pulse, stuff like that. Was pleased as punch by all that too, let me tell you. Then I bloody well remembered vamping out and I got up after that to see what was what. Got dressed and walked out into the living room. The Crispins were sitting down to dinner and I just stopped and stared at them. I had no idea at all what to say to them, but they both smiled at me all warm and welcoming. Then Ruth, she says, ‘William. It’s good to see you up. Do you feel like joining us for dinner?’ Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather when she said my name.” Spike smiled fondly at that memory. “That was without a doubt the best meal of my life or unlife. They made me feel so welcome and accepted. They answered all my questions as best they could, filled me in on what they knew and just talked to me like I was a regular Joe. No one’s ever treated me like that before – like an equal – not even when I was alive. I finally had to stop them and ask them why they were being so nice to me. Hadn’t I vamped out in front of them before? They assured me that I had indeed done that, but that they had examined me and I was most definitely alive now. Even though I had noticed the pulse and temperature myself, it was nice to have some positive confirmation. Then Mitchell asked me if I needed some blood and I realized I really didn’t need or want it. We calculated up the days and it had been 8 days since I’d last had blood prior to going in that cave. I didn’t know what to make of that, but I felt fine. The Crispins offered to let me stay with them… Said they’d try to help me get to the bottom of things.”

Spike paused and Giles was struck by the fondness he obviously had for Ruth and Mitchell, and while Giles could certainly understand anyone being attached to two such warm and loving people…Spike’s reaction was especially poignant. Poor bastard. He must have been craving acceptance so bad all along. Glad he found that even if he did have to go halfway around the world and through hell to do so. With a small start, Giles reconnected with the conversation as he realized that Spike had started speaking again while he was musing.

“…spent nearly 3 months with Ruth and Mitchell. They tested my reflexes, my blood, my strength, anything that might help to explain what was going on with me. Didn’t get too many scientific answers, I’m afraid. Figured I might need to seek my answers elsewhere. The Crispins were great, gave me money to buy a ticket out of there and loaned me their horse to get to town so I could buy the ticket. Ruth asked me to pick up some things for her at the trading post. So I left one morning to make arrangements for my departure. Was gone the greater part of the day…didn’t get back till well after dark. I was both excited and nervous about leaving…felt like I was about to start out on a journey that would surely change my life even more so than this last one. But I knew that I would miss Mitchell and Ruth. They treated me like family and I loved ‘em for it, Giles. I was thinking about this on my way back and trying to come up with an appreciative gesture that would let them know what they meant to me. Considered and rejected loads of ideas…nothing was good enough. Finally hit on something that I thought would please both of them. Felt right proud of myself for that. Smiled like a blithering idiot the rest of the way back.” Spike paused remembering, and his face turned up in a painful grimace as he continued bitterly. “Should have known the bloody Powers weren’t done screwing with me just yet.”

Giles heart wrenched painfully at that – both for the obvious pain reflected in Spike’s demeanor and for the ominous portent it suggested for his friends. After a long moment, Spike began speaking again quietly. “When I was about a mile out from the homestead, the scent hit me. I could smell blood, carnage…death. I pushed that horse as fast as it could go, but it was already too late long before I got there. They were both dead and I couldn’t save them.” His voice sounded hollow at that failure and Giles patiently waited him out. He would have time to mourn the dead later, but Spike was alive and here and needed him now. When he continued a moment later, his voice gained intensity. “It was demons. Nasty little band of Tertutio demons. Buggers like to torture their victims before killing them. Well they bloody well got their come-uppance that night.” Spike paused again and Giles had no doubt that the Crispins’ deaths had been well avenged and not one of those demons had lived to tell the tale. He regretted briefly that he hadn’t been there to help Spike. When he spoke again, Spike’s voice was thick with emotion. “I sat with their bodies until the sun rose. Told them how much I appreciated them, loved them even. When the sun came up, I prepared their bodies for a funeral pyre. Thought about burying them, seemed more respectful, but was afraid some wild critter would dig them up. Didn’t want their bodies defiled like that. Spent the day going through the house, sorting their stuff to see if they had anything written down about things to be sorted out to people or whatnot. Gathered up some books for you. Packed my stuff up and got ready to head back into town to catch that train. It was while looking for a change of clothes that I found a letter addressed to me. It was from the Crispins, said how much they thought of me…said they fancied me like a son.” Pause to gather emotions. “Said a bunch of other things that got me all choked up. Also had a key to a locker at the train station. The note said for me to take everything that was in the locker. Said they didn’t need it and wanted me to have it. I didn’t know what to make of that, but figured it was worth checking out when I got to town.”

“Ended up oversleeping the next day. Didn’t realize how tired out I was by the ordeal. Barely had time to grab the duffel bag inside the locker and catch my train. Almost didn’t make it. But finally I settled into a private car with some food and drink, and had a moment to myself to open that bag.” He paused for so long that Giles felt the tension building until Spike opened his mouth and came out with… “It was full of money, Giles. Stacks and stacks of bills – enough to satisfy Anya even!” They shared a small laugh at that comment. “I counted out just under a million dollars and then I was crying again like some misty-eyed nancy-boy poofter. Not because of the money, but because of these wonderful people who thought enough of me to give it to me. They wrote that note and gave me that money just because they wanted to do so. They loved me that much. I was overwhelmed by them...their capacity for love and their generosity. I still am.” he finished quietly.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Finally Giles spoke up again. “My calculations bring you up to about 3 weeks ago. What did you do after that?”

“I had a few stops to make before coming here…some debts that needed repaying now that I had the means to do so. I got in town a few days ago and I’ve been trying to get a handle on everything since then. So far, you and Clem are the only ones who know I’m back, and that’s how I’d like it to stay for now.”

Giles nodded, not really listening but making a deductive leap in reasoning in a totally different area. “You’re the one who paid off Buffy’s house!” he suddenly exclaimed. Spike smiled almost shyly and nodded assent. “Did you also have anything to do with her new job?” Another nod. Giles stared at Spike amazed. “And why is it exactly that you don’t want her to know this?”

“Several reasons.” Pause. Deep breath. “First, I don’t want her thinking I’m trying to buy off her or Dawn. Second, I just want her to be happy. I don’t need the credit as long as the job gets done, if you know what I mean. Third, a lot has happened between us and I don’t know where we stand. I do want to find that out – more than anything. But first I have to figure out who and what I am. Until then, I have nothing to offer her. Fourth, some odd things came up in the Crispins’ tests and I don’t know what that means. Since the Powers That Be enjoy bollixing up my life so much, there’s no telling what comes next. I’ll be damned if I allow either Dawn or Buffy to be put into any danger because of me. I have to know they’ll be safe being around me. And, lastly, Red is one of Buffy’s best friends. Let’s fix that first…” his voice trailed off as his thoughts coalesced.

Giles looked at him understandingly and Spike found the courage to continue. “I don’t want to screw this up again, Giles. I love her, but I’ve made a real mess of things in the past. If I screw up again, that’s it. Game over. End of story. I know that… I’m not ready to face making that possibility a reality just yet.”

Giles was totally amazed by the extraordinary things Spike had just shared with him. And there was still more to come, if he was right about his suspicions. “Very well, Spike. I respect what you’ve shared with me today. Thank you for that confidence. I will honor it, I assure you. Ruth and Mitchell were incredible individuals and I’ve no doubt they meant it when they wanted you to have that money. They never had any kids and I don’t think you should feel guilty they chose to give it to you. And don’t focus on thinking you failed them. They easily could have been killed at any time prior to or after you arrived there. They knew the dangers when they chose to settle there. I’ve no doubt you would have defended them valiantly had you been there. But don’t waste time feeling guilty for something you had no control over, okay?” Spike nodded gratefully, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I want to talk to you about these physical changes some more, Spike. I may be able to shed some light for you. But I need to check out a few things first, and I need to look into this symbol if we’re going to help out Willow. Anya should be in shortly, so it might be best it we took a break here and reconvened tonight at my flat.”

Spike nodded in agreement and they both stood. “Giles, just one more thing if you don’t mind.” He hesitated and looked anywhere but at Giles. Finally he looked up and said “I don’t think that it suits me just yet, but the I know that the other doesn’t fit me anymore. So, I think I’d prefer to be called William now.”

“Of course.” Giles said. “Then let me be the first to welcome you home, William.” And he extended the hand of friendship quite literally.








 
 
Chapter #5 - Ch 4 - Reeling in the Aftermath
 





Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
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Chapter Four
Reeling in the Aftermath





Hazy images and sensations crowded her mind, each fighting for dominance, confusing and overwhelming her. Feeling Spike everywhere she went for the past 3 weeks – being unable to shake the sense of his presence, but finding no sign of any evidence to support the notion that he was there. Catching sight of a brown-haired man so like him it made her heart hurt, but losing sight of him a few moments later in the crowded shopping plaza. Going through the days in a blur of motion – staying busy at work and enjoying the new job, but distracted by the conviction that she was missing something…apparently unable to trust her own instincts. Sensing Angel the other night, but calling the Hyperion in L.A. and learning he was there, but not available. Getting the call from the hospital that Willow had disappeared in the middle of the night. Guys dressed as scaly red lizards spotted around town that same night. A locator spell, roll call and a collection of weapons, explanation from Giles about what might be brewing, fear of possibly losing her best friend all over again, seeing the reality of an impending ritual with Willow as the unknowing sacrifice, poised on the brink…waiting…waiting…then what? Were these memories, fears, reality, nightmares, what? The images refused to coalesce into anything resembling sense, swirling over and around themselves till she didn’t know where she was or what day it was. Stubbornly she fought to the surface, trying to break free of the miasma of confusion surrounding her mind.

“G-man. Hey, G-man. I think she’s coming to.” The young brunette called to his older companion, a note of relief evident in his voice.

“Very well, Xander. Why don’t you get her something to drink and possibly some aspirin? I think she may have hit her head when she fainted.”

“On top of it, G-man.”

“Do stop calling me that, Xander. Buffy. Buffy, can you hear me? Don’t try to move. You took a pretty sharp blow to the head tonight.”

Buffy slowly opened her eyes, feeling the ceiling come rushing down to meet her. Struggling against the nausea induced by that sensation, she tried to sit up. A firm hand gently pushed her back down though and a familiar voice told her to stay still. Who was that? Oh, yeah…Giles. Okay, why is Giles trying to get me to stay still? And why does my head hurt? What happened to me? What do I remember? Let’s see…I remember…

“Dawn! Where’s Dawn? Something happened to her? Is she here? Is she okay?” And with that breathless string of questions, Buffy popped upright on the couch. As soon as she did, she was rewarded with a renewed pounding in her head and gratefully accepted the glass of water and aspirin that someone was handing her. No one said anything for a moment as she swallowed the pills and rested her head in her hands. Slowly Buffy lifted her head back up and glanced around, taking in her surroundings. She was sitting on the couch in Xander’s apartment, and Giles and Xander were there…both looking at her with rather odd and somewhat anxious expressions.

Giles was the first to speak. “Buffy, I’m sure you have a lot of questions and I will gladly answer all of them for you to the best of my ability. But it’s quite a long story and I’d really like to only have to go through it once. So, I’d appreciate it if we could hold the majority of your questions till the others arrive.” He held up one hand firmly in anticipation of her indignant response. “I will tell you what happened tonight up to a point, but I won’t go into the full explanation until we’re all here. For now, I will say that Dawn is safe. Fair enough?” Buffy had closed her eyes again, so she missed Xander’s side-long glance at Giles when Dawn was mentioned, but for once Xander wisely kept his mouth shut.

“I guess so.” Buffy replied listlessly. She recognized that expression on Giles’ face and knew she wasn’t going to win any arguments with him just then. Besides which, her head hurt way too much to fight right now. As a matter of fact, lying back down on the couch and going to sleep sounded like a really good idea right now. She struggled to focus on what Giles was saying.

“All right then. What do you recall happening tonight?” Giles asked that question for two reasons. First, Buffy had hit her head pretty hard when she passed out, and he wanted to test her responses and reassure himself that she was okay. Second, he really didn’t want to repeat himself unless he absolutely had to, and there was no sense telling her stuff she already knew and irritating her now. She was sure to blow up when she heard the whole story anyway. Might as well avoid that for as long as possible.

“Umm. I remember…” Okay, Buffy. Think. Ignore the pounding in your head. It will go away…eventually. Concentrate. What do you remember? “Some creepy demon guys kidnapped Willow and we ended up in to that field where it looked like they were getting ready to do some kind of ritual. We separated and positioned ourselves as you suggested so we would be most effective. You told us that in order to save Willow, we had to let them free the demon that was using her as a holding vessel, so we waited. And then we attacked at your signal. I didn’t see everything that happened because I was too busy fighting, but it looked like everyone was holding their own okay. Then I heard this absolutely horrendous noise, and that mist that had been hovering over Willow suddenly turned into what has to be one of the ugliest demons I’ve ever seen in a horse drawn chariot of some kind. Umm. I saw the demon crack a whip and those flying horse thingies pulled him higher up in the air. I think they circled us once or twice and then… Okay. This is where I get fuzzy and I guess I must have tripped and hit my head or something. Because I could have sworn that the demon guy came racing back down all of a sudden and grabbed Dawn and headed toward some portal that opened up in the sky. But that couldn’t have happened, right? And I’m sure that Angel didn’t actually jump out of nowhere to tackle me to the ground to keep me from getting to Dawn, because he wouldn’t do that. And I just know that I didn’t see Spike leap onto that chariot right before the portal closed, because Spike so does not have curly brown hair! So, I know I must have imagined all that because there is no way that Angel and Spike would be anywhere near each other without one of them killing the other, and you told me Dawn is safe. So I’m thinking I really must have hit my head hard. And how did I hit my head anyway? Did I trip or did some demon whack me when I wasn’t looking?”

When no one spoke for a few minutes, Buffy finally opened her eyes again and looked at the identical somber expressions on both Giles’ and Xander’ faces. She wrinkled her brow in confusion, which quickly gave way to a frown as she realized that neither one of them was looking her in the eye and they still hadn’t answered any of her questions. She felt her insides clutch up as she realized that something was very wrong here. “Guys,” she said softly, “Please tell me what’s going on. I’m starting to get scared here.”

Giles sighed deeply and sat down next to her on the couch, taking one of her hands in his. Uh, oh. Giles is initiating physical contact when I’m not already crying. Warning! Something must be very wrong here if he’s doing that. Loud alarm bells and flashing lights were starting to go off in Buffy’s brain and she fought to stay focused on what he was saying.

“Buffy. You didn’t imagine any of what you saw tonight. It basically happened like you said. Angel and Spike were both there – working together as it just so happens. The demon that was released from Willow did take Dawn. Angel tackled you to keep you from reaching them in order to keep you safe. And yes, Dawn did go through the portal, but she is okay. That’s why Spike was there – to protect and save her. And I promise you on my life that she is safe. He will protect her and have her back home soon. You managed to shake loose Angel’s hold on you just about the time the portal closed. You fainted and hit your head. Angel and Anya took Willow back to the hospital to get her checked out. Xander and I brought you to his apartment. You’ve been unconscious for nearly 2 hours now. Anya called to say that Willow lost some blood, but not too much. She was awake for a few moments before they gave her a sedative, and she spoke briefly to Angel. She seemed a bit disoriented, but she was coherent enough for him to realize that she remembers. She’s being kept overnight for observation, but I plan to get her released tomorrow, if possible. Angel and Anya are on their way here now and should arrive any minute. Once they get here, Angel and I will tell you what we know and hopefully we’ll be able to answer all of your questions.”

He tried to gauge Buffy’s reaction to all this by her facial expressions, but she just stared at him blankly like he wasn’t even there. She was obviously having trouble processing this information. I guess Spike was correct when he thought she might not be able to handle this. I do hope she doesn’t go catatonic again though.

Buffy blinked twice in rapid succession, but gave no other indication that she was there or that she even heard what he was saying to her. Outside she was deceptively calm, but on the inside she was churning. Dawn! Spike! Angel! Why did that demon take her? Why would Angel stop me from saving her? Why would Spike show up now after all this time? Why were he and Angel working together? They hate each other. And why were they exactly in the right spots for Angel to tackle me and Spike to get to Dawn? How did they know where to be for that? Giles! He told each of us where to position ourselves. He must have told them, too. And how can Giles say that Dawn is okay? Dawn! Spike!?! Dawn! She shook her head trying to clear away the fog in her brain from these circling thoughts. She needed to think coherently so she could understand what was going on here and what she had to do to fix it. She opened her mouth to speak when there was a knock at the door. They all looked up, and Xander hurried to let Angel and Anya in.

When she saw Angel walk in, it suddenly clicked with Buffy that Angel really was here. And that meant that Spike was really here too, or rather he had been. Apparently he and Dawn were now in some other dimension, and she had no idea where. There was no way all this was a coincidence. And that totally pissed her off that she had once again been left in the dark while others had not. Someone knew what was going on here and she wasn’t about to let anyone leave till she had some answers. Buffy was focused now. Anger helped that way. She pulled her hand away from Giles’ and stood up slowly. She looked around the room at the others, leveling each one with her best glare, and crossed her arms defiantly across her chest. When she finally spoke, it was slow and deliberate. “I want to know what’s going on here. I want to know where Dawn is, and what happened tonight. I want to know what Spike and Angel were doing there to begin with, and why Angel thought it necessary to stop me from saving my sister. But mostly, Giles, I want to know why you apparently knew all about this in advance and didn’t see fit to tell me.”

She spat out the last sentence bitterly, betrayal evident in her tone. Xander and Anya both looked at Giles with mild shock, but Angel only shook his head and sat down. He had figured this would be her reaction all along, but he had gone along with Spike’s plan, and still thought it was for the best. He wanted to speak up in Giles’ defense, but he knew it would be his turn to be in the hot seat soon enough when Buffy heard what he had to say. For now he was just relieved it was Giles that her ire was directed toward.

Giles didn’t look away from Buffy as she continued to glare at him. He met her eyes directly and took a deep breath. He had also known this was coming, and although Spike was definitely going to have to face far worse battles in the near future…Giles rather envied him not having to face Buffy’s wrath at this precise moment. With a wry smile, Giles gestured toward the couch. “Buffy, you have every right to be upset. You are correct. I did know what would happen tonight and I do wish that it could have been prevented. I handled it as I thought best with the knowledge I had. If you choose to hate me for that, then such is your prerogative. However, I would appreciate it if you would sit down and listen to all the facts for once before jumping to erroneous conclusions of your own making as you have a tendency to do. Once you’ve heard all we have to say, then make your decision on how you feel toward me, and I will accept that.”

Everyone in the room looked at Giles in surprise when he delivered that last bit in a cool and authoritative voice. Buffy’s mouth dropped open in disbelief, but she snapped it shut again and sat down abruptly. She stared at Giles – really seeing him for the first time in a long time. This man was the father figure she had never had. He had been her Watcher, her mentor, and her friend. But he was also someone she respected and had for a long time now. He never spoke to her like that unless it was warranted. He deserved for her to at least hear what he had to say with an open mind. She struggled briefly with her own anger, worry, and indignation before giving in. She took a deep breath and spoke again. “I’m sorry if I sounded a tad hateful just now. I’m in a bit of shock at what’s happened tonight. I’m worried about Dawn, and I’m scared of what I’m about to hear. I guess I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, but I felt betrayed when I realized that you knew ahead of time what would happen tonight. I will listen to what you have to say before I make up my mind about anything, but I don’t hate you, Giles. And if you tell me that Dawn is safe, then I believe you. So, why don’t you go ahead and fill me in on what’s been going on.” Buffy spoke firmly but softly and looked Giles in the eye while she was speaking so he would know she meant it. She was still upset, but she had lost too much precious time in the recent past with the people closest to her by assuming things or leaving things unspoken. She wasn’t about to make that mistake again. So, she reached over and squeezed his hand quickly before sitting back. Giles returned her hand squeeze, took another deep breath and then began to share a rather fantastic tale.









 
 
Chapter #6 - Ch 5 - The Tale (as told by Giles)
 

Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨





Chapter Five
The Tale (as told by Giles)





“I need to give you a bit of background first. So, please allow me to start by telling you about a friend of mine named Mitchell Crispin. We grew up together and he was always like a brother to me in more ways than one. He’s probably responsible for saving my life, since he’s the one who got me back on the relatively sane track when Eyghon was more or less in control of my life. He helped me to overcome the dark forces that were trying to overtake me. Mitchell didn’t tread down the same path that Ethan Rayne and I followed. As a matter of fact, when he saw where we were headed, he devoted his time and study to learning how to combat those forces, realizing what we would be facing in the future. He was a true friend and one of the strongest, most incredible people I have ever had the privilege of knowing. When I say strong, I am referring to an inner strength that few possess. And when I say incredible, it’s because he was one of the most compassionate, insightful individuals that has ever walked the planet. The only person who can even begin to compare to him was his wife, Ruth. Anyone lucky enough to have befriended this couple, knows that they would move heaven and earth - and hell, too, if necessary - to help you. And there are few individuals indeed in whom they were unable to find some quality that made them worthy of that assistance. They both seemed to have a way of looking inside someone’s soul and knowing exactly what was going on. And they usually knew exactly how to best help with whatever that individual needed. It didn’t hurt that Ruth was a seer and often had psychic visions regarding the individuals they came into contact with. I bring all this up to give you a basis with which to understand my perspective. Absolutely anything – fact or opinion - that has ever come from either of them is something to which I give high regard and consider to be both reliable and accurate information.”

“You might recall that I made a short trip back to England about two months ago. At that time, I mentioned some business I needed to tend to. What I didn’t tell you was that the trip was prompted by a letter from Mitchell that had been forwarded to me. In that letter, I was surprised to see that Mitchell had used a secret code that we had relied on as kids to say what we needed to say without anyone else having a clue what we were talking about. I knew he wouldn’t have fallen back on that unless there was good reason to do so. After translating our code, I read that he and Ruth had recently had a visitor that they believed would fulfill certain prophecies referred to in the Tantric Scrolls. Now, Mitchell and Ruth were living in the jungles of Africa, cut off from the outside world except by regular mail, which is quite slow. The letter that I received from them had been sent nearly a month and a half prior to that. So, in order to know what was going on, I needed to get to England to see the prophecies they were referring to. The Tantric Scrolls were lost ages ago, but the Watcher’s Council has some partial copies of an old journal made by a monk prior to the scrolls’ disappearance in the late Middle Ages. Mitchell indicated in his letter that the prophecies he referred to had been recorded in those journals. The Tantric Scrolls were either hidden or destroyed (supposedly the latter) because the information contained was alleged to be devastating to any individual that read them. They are basically infallible prophecies laid forth from an unconfirmed source. Legend has it that they came to be back in the beginning of time prior to the advent of evil and were given by an unspecified goddess to aid in the coming battles which she foresaw. There has never been any proof of this, however. It is simply accepted canon in knowledgeable circles that if a prophecy is, in fact, written in the Tantric Scrolls, then it is a certainty that it will come to pass. Understand what I’m saying here, because this is essential to our particular situation. We’ve had experience with prophecies before, and we’ve seen where they can be averted or changed due to the actions we take. This is simply not the case with Tantric Scroll prophecies. They cannot be altered. If you were aware of one of these prophecies and tried to change things, events you changed would somehow transpire to bring about the exact results that you were trying to avoid. This is why the knowledge of what was in these scrolls was considered to be so dangerous. It’s why the scrolls were supposedly destroyed in the first place, although some believe they were actually hidden instead.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment as they considered this. Then Xander asked the question that was on everyone’s minds. “If the scrolls are that dangerous, then why was the information even given to begin with? Wouldn’t they have been better off not knowing at all?”

“As I said, the scrolls were given to aid in the battle against evil. They were entrusted to specific individuals known as Guardians of the Light. Not much is known about these Guardians other than that they were beings of great strength – both physically and mentally – who were able to both read and comprehend the meaning of what was laid forth in the scrolls, and then apply it to the world, fighting the good fight, so to speak. A great evil arose in the early Middle Ages and the last of the Guardians was destroyed at that time. After that, the Tantric Scrolls passed on to mortal men who could not handle the knowledge housed there. Anyone who tried to read them…well…if they were actually able to understand what they were reading…was quickly overwhelmed with the knowledge and responsibility, and most of them went insane. Those who didn’t lose their minds took their own lives rather than live with the certainty of what was to come, knowing they could do nothing to prevent it.” The others stared at Giles in horror at this. He shook his head and continued. “There were a lot of terrible things happening at that time and most of the monks who were guarding the Scrolls thought that the end of the world was fast approaching. They were unable to use the Scrolls themselves. So, they decided that it would be better to destroy the Scrolls than to risk having them fall into evil hands. This is where the legends differ. Some say they were successful in their efforts to destroy the Scrolls. Others say it was impossible to destroy them and they were hidden away. Over the years many supposed locations have been sought out as believed resting places of these Scrolls. No one has ever actually found them. On occasion though, a snippet of a prophecy has shown up that was taken from the Scrolls prior to their loss. Every single one of them has come true…without exception. You have to understand that no one – not even the vilest of demons – would claim that a prophecy was from the Tantric Scrolls unless it actually was. You see, the Scrolls were blessed - or cursed - depending on your point of view. Anyone who can read the Scrolls and interpret them may do so if they choose. However, anyone who attempts to misrepresent that information will meet with an immediate and violent demise. There are several documented instances of this occurring over time. These Scrolls are absolute Truth and that truth will not be defiled in any way, shape or form.”

“But then how could something evil read the Scrolls or use that knowledge?” Xander queried.

“You have to understand, Xander. Truth is truth. I’m not referring to being honest here. Truth is neither good nor evil. It simply is…fact, reality, truth. It cannot be denied. So, anyone can be aware of the truths in the Scrolls, but they cannot attempt to change their essence. If you were to learn of one of these prophecies or truths and try to change the course of fate, your efforts would be thwarted, but you would not be punished. If you, however, tried to mislead someone else by lying about or altering what one of these truths says, you would pay for it with your very existence. Because these truths are unalterable and will not be denied.”

“But I don’t understand. Why would you be punished for trying to lie about one of those prophecies but not for trying to change it?”

Giles sighed. Really, Xander, must you ask? “Let me try to explain it by way of an example. Suppose that you learned that you have an incurable deadly disease and will die in 6 months. You might seek out treatment to try to change this – surgery, medicine, whatever – in an attempt to live. You might change your eating and exercise habits, your entire way of life, to prolong your life. But in the end, the disease will kill you, no matter what you do. Now, suppose that this disease has self-awareness, so to speak, and knows that you are attentive to its presence. It is aware that you are trying to cope with that presence and does not prevent you from doing so. However, you then choose to lie to the people in your life about this disease. You have now denied its very existence and it will not allow this. In return, it increases its development exponentially and kills you in a matter of minutes rather than months. That is a very poor analogy, but it’s the best I can do at this time. Simply put, these Scrolls are affected with an awareness of their own accuracy and genuineness and they strive to preserve and protect that integrity at all times. They simply will not and cannot be misused or misrepresented in any way, shape or form. To attempt to do so is sheer folly. So, for Mitchell to even refer to the Tantric Scroll prophecies in the obscure method he did, speaks volumes of the depth of his belief. And in answer to your next question…Mitchell was still alive after writing that letter. And although he has since passed away, it was not in any manner related to the Scrolls. So, I have to assume that he was correct in what he stated in his letter about his visitor fulfilling those prophecies.”

“When I got to England, I was able to locate the journals easily enough. When the Council first obtained them, a lot of effort was put into their analysis. They were determined to be the ravings of a madman in the end, because they made no real sense that anyone could see. Various phrases and words that were legible but in no order that made any sense, combined with words made entirely of consonants that could not be discerned through any known tongue. In effect, ramblings and ravings. That actually lent a certain credence to the claim of authenticity since the monk who recorded them could very easily have been driven mad by his knowledge of what was in the Scrolls. However, no one could ever find any rhyme or reason to the ramblings in the journal, so it was concluded that the prophecies were not recorded there, and the journals were retained as a curio of sorts. When I journeyed there, I let no one know what I was really after. I simply made copies of the journals and returned them to their appropriate places on the shelves. I didn’t even read them until I returned here. When I did, I couldn’t make hide nor hair of them at first. Then I recalled that Mitchell had written to me in our old code and that got me thinking. I tried applying that code to the journals…”

“And you were able to translate them.” Xander broke in excitedly. He was actually enjoying this tale. He felt like a kid at story time.

Giles shot him a look that shut him up pretty quickly. “No, Xander, our code did not work. In fact, it gave me a miserable headache to even try. But I thought I might be on to something, so I played with it for a while. My efforts were to no avail though. And I was starting to get a little bit anxious. You see, I had begun to have my own theories of what was going on here. When Mitchell and I were growing up, one thing that we dearly loved to do was theorize about the meanings of different vague prophecies or legends that might come to pass. One of my favorites that we discussed frequently was that of The Warrior. The legend of the Warrior has been around for ages now and is generally accepted as myth, but Mitchell had always hinted that he believed it to be fact and possibly even Tantric. He spent a great deal of time researching to that effect, and that was the first thing that crossed my mind when I read Mitchell’s letter. There are other things we have discussed previously that might have been a prophecy he would have referred to in passing, but only for The Warrior would he have included the reference to the Tantric Scrolls.” Giles raised his hand to stop Xander from asking the question that he knew was coming. “And before you ask, let me tell you a bit about The Warrior.”

“There are many different tales associated with The Warrior, but although they vary on many aspects…there are certain threads that run true with any retelling of this tale in any culture. And when I say culture here, I am referring to different species. The Warrior is a well-known figure in many worlds and many races…including demons.” Angel nodded his assent here and Giles continued. “The Warrior is a male with considerable intellect and strength who walks between worlds. He is acknowledged by both demons and non-demons, being able to relate to both equally. He is self-sacrificing for the good of others. He is also virtually undefeatable in battle regardless of the odds. No one knows exactly who or what he is or when his time will be, but it has always been accepted that he would emerge at a time of great need to defeat a great evil. The rest of the details are where things get vague and vary from race to race. Most cultures like to tell this tale, hoping that the warrior will rise up out of their own race to bring them honor. Of course, he also makes a great role model for the little ones.”

“While I was waiting on Mitchell’s response to my letter, I started researching every reference I could find into The Warrior – no matter how vague or unbelievable it might be. What I read totally threw me. Since then, my suspicions have been confirmed that the visitor Mitchell mentioned in his letter was Spike. And since then I have seen and spoken with Spike and validated what I had previously gleaned from Mitchell’s letter. There is now no doubt in my mind that Spike is, in fact, The Warrior of legend.”

Giles then proceeded to relate the details he knew about how Mitchell and Ruth had found Spike and what had transpired while he stayed with them up until his departure. Other than Giles and Angel, no one else in the room had heard any of this before, so it was a rather shocked group that learned of Spike’s trip to Africa and the trials he underwent to earn his soul. Spike had not given either Giles or Angel the full details of his particular tests, but Giles told everyone how incredibly dangerous and impossible it was to pass the tests given by a Keralt demon and how most individuals that undertook such a venture were never heard from again. Everyone was amazed as they processed this news. Even Xander was quiet. He, for one, was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the idea that Spike had willingly sought out a soul, fought for it and actually succeeded. Anya was a bit in awe of Spike’s fortitude in attempting such a venture. She alone knew first-hand of the Keralt demons and Giles’ description barely did justice. She had a pretty good idea of how difficult the trials Spike had gone through really were and she was amazed that he had survived, let alone succeeded. Angel had heard the tale already, but he was still amazed that his wayward childe had gone and willingly sought out what had been forced on Angel kicking and screaming. He’d never had any real idea of how strong Spike’s character was until recently. He wondered if any of them had ever guessed at the truth before now. He seriously doubted it. After all, Spike might wear his heart on his sleeve, but who could possibly know went on in his mind.








 
 
Chapter #7 - Ch 6 - First Glance
 




Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨





Chapter Six
Spike’s Journal – First Glance






Day 8

Figured I’d start keeping a bloody journal. Turning into a right ponce, I am. Might just help me sort out my thoughts though. I could definitely use some help in that area right about now. Probably won’t help, but it might… just maybe… so let’s give it a whirl, now shall we, ducks? And just who was I talking to with that comment, I wonder. Get a grip, Spike. You’re starting to lose it. Lose what exactly? My head? My heart? My life? My soul? Lost part of my mind when the blasted soldiers put that bloody chip in my head. Lost the rest of it when I realized I was in love with the damn slayer. Lost my heart to her the first time I saw her, though it took a long time before I realized that. Lost my life too many years ago to worry about it now. Lost my soul at the same time… ‘course that’s not the case any more now, is it? And that’s why I’m sitting here in broad daylight swinging in a hammock in the middle of the bleedin’ jungles of Africa enjoying the friggin’ sun of all things. My life or un-life or whatever it is I’m living now just gets stranger and stranger as the days go by.

Has it only been a week since I left good ol’ Sunnyhell? I guess so… feels longer though. So much has changed in such a short time. I left out in a blaze of glory on my bike whizzing down the highway and then on a cargo plane flying fast and furious on my way to a new destiny. Cripes! Am I a fool or what? Don’t go there – already know the answer to that one. Thought I knew what I was doing… what I was getting myself into… but I hadn’t a clue, not really. Plan was simple enough – head out here, face the Keralt demon and his bloody challenges, beat him, and get what I wanted… a soul. Never thought about getting one before… never wanted one. Never wanted to be like that nancyboy sire of mine with his never-ending brood/mope routine. Stupid git spent a century doing just that and only that before he decided to stop feeling sorry for hisself and move on. Then what’s ‘e do? He goes and becomes a lapdog for the Slayer, of all people! What a bloody poof. Made me sick to my stomach to see what he had become the first time I ran into him in Sunnyhell after all those years. ‘Course, I still remembered Angelus as I knew ‘im before those damn gypsies went and cursed ‘im. Got to hand it to those gypsies though – damn fine way of getting revenge if you ask me. Got to admire whoever thought that one up. Pretty funny too when you get right down to it – a vampire with a soul! Who’d a thought of such a thing? Who’d of wanted to? Certainly not me. Creeped me out the first time I realized what they’d done to ol’ Angelus. And yet, here I am – gone and made myself into the very thing I both laughed at and cringed at the thought of for years – a bloody wanker with a soul just like the great poof. Only in my case, I sought it out. I bloody asked for this, fought for it even, and I don’t know what to do with it now that I have it. Oh, the irony there is definitely causing someone somewhere many laughs at my expense, I’m sure. The Powers That Be are getting their jollies this time – a great big cosmic joke, that’s what I’ve become.

Oh, well. Never been one to run away from the truth of who or what I am, no matter what it might be or how uncomfortable it makes me. Now the poof – that’s not his style at all. He never liked to deal with anything messy, which is probably why he avoided dealing with me on numerous occasions, because I tend to be a bit messy at times. If he were here, he’d be in a dark room over at the house brooding in a corner… wouldn’t eat for days, wouldn’t smile, wouldn’t talk. He’d just sit there and sulk for days on end. He’d probably drive even Ruth and Mitchell crazy and I’m beginning to think nothing can get under their skin… but I’d wager that the great poof’s never-ending brood-fest just might do it. Glad I’m not him, ‘cause I’m starting to be downright fond of both Ruth and Mitchell. Couldn’t ask for nicer, more gracious hosts than the two of them. Smart, too – both of them. Figured out what I was – more or less – right away and dealt with it. Since then, they’ve been trying to help me sort things out… which is why I’m swinging in a hammock with a glass of Scotch and a pack of fags to keep me company while I think. No brooding in dark rooms for me. No sirree. I spend my days out here thinking and then the three of us sit down and talk things out at night. It’s been helping somewhat…I think. The talking, that is. Maybe if the poof would’ve had someone like them to talk to… who knows how he might have dealt with things instead. Then again, what if I didn’t have them… how would I be handling things right now? That’s a right scary thought to consider that I might have become just like the nance m’self. Scary? More like sickening. Best move on to another train of thought ‘cause this one is about to derail and the impending crash is more than I can handle right now.

I always tackle things head-on and try to figure it out or beat it down, depending on what I’m facing. That’s my way. Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I don’t, but I’ve always been one for taking action. Only this time… I have no idea what action to take… not yet anyway. But I’ll figure it out eventually… I hope.


Day 9

Had that dream again last night. That’s 3 nights running now. Wonder what that means. Most of my dreams since I left the cave have been either memories or fears, and both are starting to make me dread closing my eyes. I don’t know which is worse, really. The memories are all so clear – things I did in the past – some a long time ago and some recently – all of them horrible things and most of which I delighted in at the time. Those dreams – those memories - are like looking at myself in a movie. I can see my emotions so clearly in the expressions on my face, the glint in my eyes, the delighted way I move as I cause carnage and destruction everywhere I go. I kill and torture and feed and maim and blood flows fast and furious as I learn to be a vampire, try to impress my grandsire, try to make a name for myself, try to make Dru happy, try to take care of her, try to earn her love… When I see these memories in my dreams, I’m both sickened and fascinated by them… fascinated at what I’ve seen and done and how I’ve changed over the years… sickened by the pain I’ve caused, the deaths I’m responsible for. Guess that’s the soul talking there. Never bothered to feel guilty about what I’d done until recently. Just being a vampire, you know, and that’s what vampires do. With Angelus as a Sire, you learned early on exactly what was expected of you. So, I decided that if I was going to be a vampire, I was going to go at it with the same gusto I always do things with…and I did. And I was a damn good vampire. Well, not good – bad actually, but great at the same time. Wicked and evil and wonderful – that was me. When did how I view that change? Is that really the soul? Didn’t I feel differently before now? Not about the past maybe, but about other things? Yeah, I can think of a couple of things that I felt guilty about before I ever got this bloody soul. Don’t go there, Spike, m’ boy. Not yet. Not ready to deal with that right now. Soon, but not right now. Back to the dreams, then. That’s a better topic, innit?

When it’s not memories, then it’s fears. All my worst fears come true in my mind. And so bloody clear that it hurts to look at them. Didn’t realize I had all those fears till these dreams started and wasn’t too happy at all to discover them. They were there just under the surface, waiting to pop up and grab my attention. And now that I’ve noticed them, it’s getting harder and harder to ignore them. They’re not all the same; mind you… these fears are more varied than I ever thought they’d be. Got one heck of an imagination, I do. But they all have one thing in common – they cause me so much emotional torment that I feel the pain physically even after I wake up. They scare me awake literally and then I’m sitting up in bed in my little room in Ruth & Mitchell’s place and I’m gasping for breath and my heart is racing and body is pouring sweat and I can still see those images in front of me and I want to gouge out my eyes so that I can get rid of them. But that wouldn’t work, would it? So, how do I get past them?

The memories I can handle – more or less. I can’t undo the things I’ve done and I won’t spend a whole bloody century sulking like the ponce. Be buggered if I’ll sink to that level. I can honestly say that I am sorry for all of it now – and that’s a lot to be sorry for – but if all I do is mope, then what good am I? Why even bother to have a soul if I’m not going to do anything with it? So, I can take what I’ve learned in the past century plus about causing pain and turn that knowledge around to help prevent or cure others’ pain. I can try to make a difference for the right side this time. That’s a noble viewpoint, isn’t it? Now I’m starting to sound like the poof – help the helpless and all that. Time for another glass of Scotch, I b’lieve. I don’t mean that I want to be a namby-pamby or anything… it’s just that I feel like I understand others’ pain now and that maybe my understanding can somehow help them. Oh, yeah! It’s most definitely time for another glass of Scotch, before I start spouting euphemisms and such all over the place. That’d be a sight for whoever is sitting in the cosmic crux laughing at my plight at this point. Don’t want to give them that satisfaction, so I’ll just drink my Scotch and keep my trap shut.

‘Course the fears are another story totally. Don’t have a clue how to deal with them or how to make them go away. Maybe they’re here to stay for good. Maybe they’re part of my punishment for the things I’ve done – eternal torment and all that. Well, okay, maybe I deserve to be eternally tormented and I can admit that with some grace after all. But really, some of those fears are just taking things too far. Some of them are probably justified and I guess I’ll learn how to live with them. I brought them on myself after all. Especially the ones involving Buffy, but anything that hurts the Niblet is just taking things a bit too far. That’s the one that terrifies me the most. That’s the dream that’s run through my fevered mind the past 3 nights running now and it’s about to drive me over the edge. I don’t even understand what it is that I’m afraid of in this dream. I can’t identify exactly what’s happening, but I know Lil Bit is in trouble and I can’t get to her in time and that terrifies me. If anything happened to her, I don’t know what I’d do. Last time I failed to protect her, failed to keep her safe… Doc cut her up there on that tower and that damn portal opened and Buffy had to jump and she died… Don’t want to think along those lines. That’s still a real bad time in my mind, even if she is alive now. I still remember what it was like when she was dead. I don’t think this dream is connected to any memories of that particular failure of mine in that sense though, because I don’t feel that anyone is in danger in this dream at all except Dawn. Not Buffy and not any of the other Scoobies… just Niblet. But she’s more important than anyone else to me. It’s funny, but I just realized that it’s true. Dawn is more important to me than anyone else. More important than even Buffy is and that’s saying a lot. I wonder why that is. Have to think about that one some more and figure that thought out. But one thing’s for sure… I’m gonna have to find a way to beat that dream back before it drives me mad.


Day 10

Well, think I figured it out last night – why Dawn’s so important to me, that is. Ruth’s actually the one who got me on track to the heart of the matter. Got to love that woman with her common sense and big heart. She’s got more wisdom in her from just plain living and observing than many a learned man I’ve ever met, and that’s saying a lot. At dinner last night, I shared my revelation from yesterday with them. I was a bit ‘wigged’ as the girls would say when I realized that Dawn was more important to me than Buffy even. I mean, I’m totally in love with Buffy and have wanted nothing more than to make her happy for the past 2 years now. ‘Course I wasn’t very successful there, was I? Don’t follow that line o’ thought just yet. Not ready to go there, are you? No, didn’t think so at all. Big ponce – really tackling it head on, aren’t you. All action, you are. Yeah, right. Okay, okay, enough already. Self-deprecating humor aside, you know you need to deal with what happened between you and Buffy before you left and you can’t put it off forever. You need to confront it and make some serious decisions about what comes next. You can’t stay out here and hide in the jungle forever. You’re right, I do and I will, but not today. Today is about Dawn. I’ll deal with Buffy tomorrow… or maybe the next day… but soon, very soon.

So, Dawn… she’s a right special girl, she is. Even if she wasn’t the sodding Key, I’d still think that. She took me by surprise, she did. I’d just figured out that I had feelings for the Slayer when the Little Bit took to hanging out at my crypt. At first, that stroked my ego a bit. Here was a pretty slip of a girl looking up at me with admiring blue eyes, eager to hear my stories of past glories… no matter how gruesome they might be. Now Buffy, she wouldn’t have approved of me telling the Niblet those tales, no way, no how… but somehow I didn’t care all that much at the time. Not when I was looking at those huge blue eyes and that pleading puppy-dog expression of hers. Couldn’t of resisted anything she asked for even if I wanted to. And if she wanted to hear her own live version of “Tales from the Crypt”… then I was happy to oblige. Cripes! She had me wrapped around her little finger even back then, but I couldn’t see it. At the time, I was just enjoying the company and trying to use her as an angle to get Buffy’s attention. But Dawn was worming her way into my heart even back then and I didn’t even realize it. Couldn’t see it till it was almost too late. Almost lost my connection to the Bit, I did, and that hurt me more than I cared to admit at the time.

When I chained Buffy up in my crypt that time (and, yes, I do know how stupid that was) to get her to listen to me and everyone got mad at me, the one that surprised me was the Bit. I expected it from the others and couldn’t say I was surprised by the animosity there at all. It was always under the surface anyway between us – me and the Scoobies, that is. It shocked me when Buffy had the Wiccas do the dis-invite spell on her house to keep me out. I mean, she’d never done that before… even when I was still the Big Bad and we were mortal enemies. I’d had a free pass to her house for a couple of years by then and I’d just taken it for granted that it’d always be there. That was the first inkling I had that I’d crossed a line and gone way too far with things. Truly didn’t occur to me before that. Heck, Dru liked being chained up. Matter of fact, so did all the women I’d been with up ‘till that point. Didn’t really think it would bother the Slayer all that much. I just figured Buffy’d get over it and beat on me like she always did… We’d get back to normal soon enough and then I could talk to her, get her to listen to me, try to get her to see what I was talking about. But then I went to the Magic Shoppe the next day and the Bit didn’t want to talk to me. It shocked me, wounded me even. Made me realize that my actions had hurt her. Never meant to hurt her at all. Don’t think I ever really apologized to her for that. Then again, can’t say I was into apologizin’ back in those days. Have to remedy that when I see her again. Got lots of things to apologize for, no two ways about that, but need to be honest with myself here and say that the Bit deserves an apology for the way I let her down…used her and took her for granted back then. She was my friend and I didn’t even see it. Too busy trying to find an angle to get to Buffy and looked right past the only friend I’ve truly had in a long time.

She is, you know… my friend. Can’t say I had all that many friends when I was a human. Right ponce I was back then… didn’t really fit in anywhere, all wrapped up in my poetry and dreams. I had my family, of course – my mum and my little sis. Then Dru turned me and I had a new family, of sorts – dysfunctional as we were, we were still family… but friends, no I think definitely not. Dru was my Black Goddess, but not my friend. Darla was just a major bitch. Never did like her one bit. Angelus, my grandsire, was the father figure whose approval I could never get. Angel was the great big poof I couldn’t stand - whining on and on about with his bleedin’ soul and all. And when Angelus came back the 2nd time, it wasn’t the same. He was a right selfish bastard intent on destroying everyone and everything, including me. Most definitely not a friend in any sense of the word. I’ve had plenty of minions over the years, but minions don’t count as friends. They’re servants, nothing more. I never made any Childer. Never claimed anyone. Never had anyone I wanted to be tied to like that, not even Dru. Hmm, never thought about that before. Wonder why I didn’t ever claim Dru? I could have, but I never even asked. (Then again, maybe I didn’t ask ‘cause I was afraid she’d say no. Always knew her “daddy” was first in her heart no matter what I did, so that might be closer to the truth.) For the longest time after Darla and Angelus left us, we only had each other and that was enough, or so I thought. Anyway, she was there, so I didn’t have to be lonely, but I never realized that anything was missing. I didn’t realize that I was lonely even back then. Funny that I’m just now getting that.

There’ve been people and vampires I’ve liked over the years… Dalton, for example. He was right entertaining to have around, getting all excited over his books and research like he did. I actually enjoyed his company for the most part. The Judge made short work of him though. While he wasn’t the one I would have offered up to the Judge for that, Dru didn’t have a problem with it and I never denied her anything, now did I? I have to admit I was sorry to see him go, but he wasn’t exactly a friend, now was he? More like a travel companion. Who else? Tessa. Now that’s a name that brings back strange and wonderful memories, but I can’t say she’s a friend, can I? I don’t know what she is to me exactly. Wonder why I thought of her anyway? Haven’t thought of her in years. Come to think of it, that’s odd. Odd, indeed, and way too complicated to go into right now. Before that, there was…her. But that’s a painful subject even now, so I won’t go there. Besides, she was much more than a friend. So, who else?

Joyce, of course! Now Joyce was definitely my friend and probably the first person I honestly liked in a long time. Admired her from the first time I met her, I did. How many people, let alone women, would smack a dangerous vampire upside the head with an axe and threaten them with bodily harm? Really! It’s funny now that I think about it. Wasn’t all that funny to me at the time. Ready to up the count and bag my 3rd slayer, going in for the kill, and suddenly I’m nursing a splitting headache and staring up at this woman with an axe hovering over me yelling at me to get the hell away from her daughter. Me, William the Bloody, defeated by the angry mother of a 16-year-old girl. Right funny, that is. Guess the Cosmic Forces have been laughing at my expense for some time now. I sure wasn’t laughing back then, but I am now. A loud belly laugh that makes me feel good for the first time in ages. And then I’m putting down this bloody journal and laughing till the tears stream down my face. Ruth and Mitchell are looking out the window at me and they probably think I’ve gone round the bend, but I wave to let them know I’m all right and they smile. And I keep laughing till it dies down to chuckles and then… I remember Joyce and I smile as the memories flow. The Slayer telling her mom that she and I are in a band. Me sitting in her living room while the Slayer’s on the phone the day we made our alliance against Angelus. Joyce asking me if we’ve met before and me telling her she threatened me with an axe once. Her expression at that little revelation. That gets me laughing again. Wonder what she thought about all that, what the Slayer told her about me. Guess I’ll never know. Me coming back to Sunnyhell, drunk and out of my mind with grief over Dru leaving me. Joyce giving me hot chocolate with little marshmallows. She knew what I was when she turned around in her kitchen that night and saw me standing in the doorway. She didn’t scream or look frightened. She just smiled at me and said “Hello, Spike. Would you like some hot chocolate?” Simple words, but they touched me like nothing else. Reminded me of my own mum, she did. So sweet and concerned…for me. Listening to me talk about Dru. Not judging or anything, just listening. Accepting me for who I was, what I was.

What a woman she was. Went to visit her a couple times in the hospital when the others weren’t around. Never told anyone about that. She was asleep most times I was there and I’d just sit by her bed and watch over her, talk to her while she slept. Don’t know if she knew I was there most times, but once she woke up and looked right at me and smiled. What a smile – like a ray of sunshine, it was. She squeezed my hand and looked at me with nothing but love and acceptance in her eyes. Neither one of us said anything, but she slept peacefully that night and I’d like to think it was because she knew I was there. Probably not, but it’s one of my more treasured fantasies, so I’m going to hang on to it. We never talked about it, but that was okay with me. She was so warm and friendly to me when she got better and got back home, that I almost felt like I was a part of their family – to her, at least. Really bothers me that I didn’t get a chance to apologize to Joyce for chaining up Buffy that time. Guess that act disrespected her and I didn’t mean to. Suddenly I’m dis-invited from their house – shut out – and I know Buffy’s told her everything and I just know that she’s disappointed in me. And I wanted to go talk to her and explain. If anyone would have listened to my side, it would have been Joyce. And even though it was her daughter I did that to, I still think she would have been willing to listen and even try to understand why I did what I did. But I waited too long to go see her, because I was ashamed of what she must think of me, and then she went and died. Hurt me more than I expected to learn she was gone. Still hurts me to realize that, even now - both that she’s gone and that I let her down, that is. Such a good person… gone for eternity. That’s just not right that someone like me gets to stick around for so long and someone like Joyce gets taken so early. Don’t rightly understand why that is, but Joyce is one of the reasons why I’ve got to try to do better by people in general now. Try to make up for the fact that I’m here and she’s gone. Got a lot to make up for, I know, but that one strikes me harder than a lot of the others. Because it’s Joyce, and that’s saying a lot.

But I digress, as usual. It’s really a wonder that I ever managed to make any plans and carry them out, the way I jump around in my thoughts. Guess that shrink I ate that one time wasn’t too far off when he told me I had ADHD. Surprised me when he interrupted my attack to diagnose me. Surprised me enough to stop and listen to him and his recommendations, but then I got bored listening and ate him anyway. Oh, well. Chalk up one more thing to make amends for. So, what was I trying to get back to anyway… Oh, yeah. Dawn. My Little Bit. I let her down and I owe her an apology for that when I see her. But I didn’t just let her down that one time, now did I? Oh, no. I’ve let her down a lot, haven’t I? Didn’t value her friendship and used her as a way to get to Buffy. Didn’t save her up on the tower. Didn’t stop that bastard Doc from cutting her. Didn’t save her sister from jumping afterward. Didn’t hold myself together too well emotionally after Buffy was gone. Didn’t give her near enough of what she needed to make up for Buffy’s absence. Don’t know that I could have done that back then, but I should have tried harder than I did. But I was a wreck, wasn’t I? Yeah, I was just barely holding on during those days, and it wasn’t much better when they brought her back, was it? No, I was so torn up over her being back and being in so much pain herself, that I couldn’t take it, could I? Not just Buffy’s pain though… my own over being betrayed by the Scoobies.

Don’t know that it really classified as a betrayal, but it sure felt like it at the time. Spent the whole summer with them, patrolling, looking after Dawn, helping in any way I could. And not once did any of them tell me what they were planning on doing... that they were going to try to bring her back. Never had a clue that they were even considering it, and it wasn’t like they made this decision overnight, now was it? No, they thought about it, planned it, prepared for it over several months. And they shut me out of it totally. Shouldn’t be too upset about that, now should I? After all they didn’t tell Giles or Dawn and that puts me in mighty fine company, doesn’t it? Still… They didn’t tell Giles because he wouldn’t have let them go through with it. They didn’t tell Dawn because they didn’t want to get her hopes up only to let her down again. So, why didn’t they tell me? After all, I had tried to help the Bit get her mother back earlier that year, hadn’t I? Yeah, went to that place with her to get the spell ingredients, and they must know that. Came back from the dead myself, I did, and they know that too. So, what kept them from telling me? Did they think I learned my lesson with Dawn’s attempt to bring Joyce back? Did they think I would be opposed to the act itself on principal like Giles? Did they want to spare me any pain like Dawn? Did they not want to hear what I thought about it? Me being dead and all does present a rather unique perspective. Might have hit a bit too close to home for them to hear what I would have had to say.

Or was it what I told Harris that night? That Willow knew something might go wrong. She knew she was messing with some very powerful forces and that it might not work, or that it might not go exactly right if it did work. If she brought something evil back that had to be destroyed and any part of it was Buffy, would I have let her destroy it? No, I couldn’t have let that happen. I couldn’t lose her again. That’s what I told Harris that night… that I’d figured it out and that was why Willow shut me out. Like to believe that…I really would…but the truth is that even if Willow was running the show and she chose to shut me out… well the others went along with it too, and that’s what really hurts. Harris would have gone along with Willow, and he wouldn’t have wanted my input on anything to do with Buffy anyway. Anya would have supported Harris on just about anything back then and Tara would have gone along with Willow, but I wonder if any of them even thought about including me, if it was a discussion, or if I was just dismissed immediately. Guess I shouldn’t have expected anything more from them, but I did. I really did. I thought that maybe I had earned some trust, some consideration from them after everything I’d done, been through… guess I was just dreaming.

I was good enough to save their arses night after night on patrol, good enough to watch over the Bit when no one else could, good enough to give them information on whatever evil I could, good enough for all that, but nothing else. Not good enough to talk to about such a big decision, not good enough to consider my feelings or thoughts as being important, not good enough to hang around Buffy once she came back. Harris made that pretty clear the first night, didn’t he now? I was outside, leaning against what I like to think of as my tree, crying… shaking with shock and sobbing, actually… when the whelp and demon girl left the house. What’s the first thing he says to me? “Hope you’re not going to start your obsession with Buffy again now that she’s back.” That’s what he thought I was doing… that was his immediate assumption when he saw me outside. Not that I was overwhelmed with emotion myself, or in so much shock that I had to lean against something because it was all I could do to stand, but that I was instead reverting back to an old behavior – one that’s repulsive even to me, one I haven’t even thought of in a long time, one I thought I’d proved to them I was beyond. But no, apparently those past months, my efforts, my time, my devotion to them – all of them, not just the Bit – while Buffy was gone, were all for naught. As far as Harris was concerned, I was still just an “evil, soulless thing” as he is so fond of reminding me. Something changed in me the moment I realized that. It was like swallowing a bitter pill that wouldn’t quite go down. It lodged somewhere and I never really got rid of it afterward, now did I? Never really trusted Red or the whelp or any of the others after that. Didn’t have much use for them after they shoved me aside like that. Didn’t affect how I viewed the Watcher or the Bit, ‘cause they weren’t part of all that either. But I really didn’t have much to do with the others after that – didn’t trust them. Kind of ironic, that is, since they didn’t trust me either.

Maybe I should have talked to someone about that, tried to mend fences, so to speak… maybe things would have turned out better there. After all, it wasn’t like I had a lot of friends – just some poker buddies and the Scoobies and Dawn. Wasn’t ever that close to any of my poker buddies, although I’ve gotten to know Clem pretty well these past few months and he’s a bit of all right to me. But the Scoobies… well everything pretty much went to hell in a handbasket after that, now, didn’t it? Giles went back to England, Willow got all wrapped up in her magic, Tara broke up with her and drifted off a bit on her own from what I gather, the whelp and the demon girl were all wrapped up in planning their wedding, Buffy was all wrapped up in trying to adjust to being back (and not doing a very good job of it either, I might add), and I got all wrapped up in Buffy. So where did that leave Dawn? Alone, that’s where. I can just kick myself now for not seeing it sooner. When I walked away from Harris the night Buffy came back, I put up a wall between myself and the Scoobies… more to keep myself from getting hurt by them again than anything else, but a wall none-the-less. I stopped hanging out around them, stopped dropping by just to visit, and started projecting the attitude again. Problem was, I left Niblet on the wrong side of the wall.

Hurts to admit it, but yeah, I did. Before Buffy and I got involved intimately. Even before Buffy told me about them pulling her out of Heaven and how much she was hurting over that. Before any of that, I got so wrapped up in my own pain, that I shut out Niblet’s pain. Didn’t even think of her and how she must be feeling. ‘Course she was happy that Buffy was back, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling overwhelmed herself or that she wasn’t scared and needin’ me. And I saw how Buffy was acting and all I thought about was being there for her, and how she was needin’ me and wantin’ my company, for a change. Never once thought about how her actions were affecting Dawn. How blind and self-involved can I possibly be? What kind of friend am I anyway? Not a very good one at all apparently. That kid is like my own sister, the one I lost when I got turned. She means that much to me and I love her. I really do. And it’s a good kind of love - pure and unselfish…that’s something I haven’t felt in a very long time for anyone. I haven’t wanted anything from Dawn other than her friendship in over a year, and she gave me that and more… looked up to me, respected me, trusted me when no one else would. And how do I repay her? By turning my back on her just like everyone else. By getting so wrapped up in her sister that I stopped really seeing her.

Part of me wants to make excuses and say that when Buffy came back I just assumed it would all go back to like it was before and that’s why I stopped looking in on her. But that’s a really pathetic excuse and it’s a lie and I know it. I can’t lie to myself or to her. I owe her an apology – several in fact. But this one is the one that’s going to be the hardest, I think. Because I hurt her, my Lil Bit, by turning my back on her when she needed me to see her. ‘Course she started knicking things. Taught her how to do that myself, didn’t I? So, I should have been the one to see what she was doing, but I didn’t. How many times since Buffy came back have I spent one-on-one time with Dawn? Just me stopping by the house to visit her, or her swinging by my crypt after school to hang with me? I can’t recall a single bleedin’ time, now that I think about it. God, it makes me sick to my stomach to realize that. And she knew I’d shut her out, too, or she wouldn’t have stopped dropping by, now would she? After all, she never listened to Buffy’s threats to stay away from me in the past, not even when I was actually still tryin’ to be all ‘evil’… even then she still came by all the time to chat or just hang with me. Over the summer when Buffy was… gone… she still came by regularly. Couldn’t have kept her away if I tried. So, when did that stop? When did she and I grow apart. Have to take the blame for that. I’m the one who put up the wall that effectively kept her out along with the others. Cor! Hate that I did that to her and didn’t even realize it. She was alone. Totally alone. Think I’d be more sensitive to that seein’ as how I’ve been alone myself for so long now. But no, I was too wrapped up in Big Sis and tryin’ to get in her pants all the time and tryin’ to get her to admit her feelin’s for me and tryin’ to convince her and myself that what we had was more than it was. So wrapped up that I couldn’t even see the Niblet’s pain. Hate m’self for that. Gonna owe her one big apology for that when I get back. Have to apologize for ignorin’ her, turnin’ my back on her, shuttin’ her out when she needed me, and just bein’ a jackass in general, I guess.

She’s my one true friend, you know. Buffy never was my friend. She has been my enemy, my ally, my nemesis, the foe I couldn’t conquer, the bane of my existence, the thorn in my side, the girl who haunted my thoughts and dreams, my obsession, my love, and my lover… but never my friend. And that makes me sad, because it makes me realize more than anything else that although we had passion and fire and heat, we didn’t really have anything at all… because she was never my friend. And I guess that - truthfully - I wasn’t hers either. Can’t think about that right now. Way too painful. Come back to that tomorrow after some more alcohol to fortify me. But that’s why Dawn is so important to me – even more so than Buffy – even if I am just now recognizing it. She is my one true friend, and I can’t put enough significance on that. So whatever else I end up doing when I leave here, I have to make things right with Niblet and I have to protect her… from what I don’t know yet… but I will. Because that dream I’ve been having means something bad. I don’t know what that is yet, but rest assured I will find out, and I will protect my Lil Bit from any and all danger at whatever cost to myself. I swear that.









 
 
Chapter #8 - Ch 7 - Initial Reactions
 


Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






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BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
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Chapter Seven
Initial Reactions






Buffy was completely shell-shocked by all she’d heard tonight. She had more or less accepted that Spike was gone for good even though Dawn had been insisting for months that he would be back. She knew better though…all the men in her life left eventually. Why should he be any different? And given the nature of their last encounter… She had been angry with him, but it had still surprised her when Clem had told her Spike had left town. She had assumed it was to get away from her and what had happened in her bathroom that night, and she didn’t really blame him for wanting to put some space between them, although they could have used his help in dealing with Willow… She had actually appreciated the gesture, in retrospect. She had not really wanted to be around him right then and she was glad he had given her some space, but she had also assumed he would return eventually and they would deal with what had happened. When days had turned into weeks and then months, she had been forced to re-evaluate that position…among other things. Now, learning where he’d gone and why after leaving Sunnydale…well this was just totally blowing her away. She was already well on her way to wigging out after seeing Dawn disappear through that portal earlier, but this would definitely clinch it for her. Okay. I’m having trouble breathing here. My head hurts and my heart hurts and it hurts to breathe. I wonder if this is what a panic attack feels like. Because I am definitely wanting to panic over here. Breathe, Buffy. Deep breaths. Air in, air out. That’s it. You can do this. Really, just because it feels like all the air’s been sucked out of the room at the moment, that doesn’t mean you can’t breathe.

Xander, on the other hand, was breathing just fine. No problems in that department. He was, however, still having trouble wrapping his mind around the concept that Spike had willingly sought out and fought for his soul…and had actually succeeded. Son of a bitch. Can you believe that? Who’d of thunk? If he didn’t think Buffy might have smacked him, he would have either whistled or burst out laughing hysterically when Giles had revealed this little fact to them earlier. He had thought better of it though, and since thinking before speaking was so rare for him…he’d actually listened to that voice telling him to keep his trap shut. Judging by the expression on Buffy’s face, he was guessing that had definitely been the wise thing to do. The subject of Spike had been taboo since a particularly explosive argument in the Summer’s kitchen back in June… an argument that had left him reeling from some of the things Buffy had said that day. He had learned things he had no desire to ever know. But, what had kept him respecting her wishes and not bad-mouthing Spike anymore since then was the small fact that what she hadn’t said scared him even more than what she had said. With this little revelation, he was terrified that all his deepest fears would now be confirmed. Jiminy Cricket. You know, I really wish that Spike had never come into our lives at all, and for oh so many reasons – not the least of which is that he slept with Anya! Yeah, sure he did… after he had been dumped and had his heart broken by Buffy and after you left Anya at the altar and crushed her hopes and dreams. Oh, but let’s not forget that there were large amounts of alcohol involved. Well, then there’s the fact that Spike tried to rape Buffy…although Buffy flat out told me that their relationship up till then had lead him to that point. What did she mean by that anyway? Oh, come on, Xander. You know better than that. Moment of truth and all that nonsense - or rot, as Spike would say. Buffy solves all her problems with her fists. If she can’t fix it with violence, then she doesn’t know how to handle it. She’s only been like that ever since you’ve known her, so what do you honestly think she meant? Do you really think she and Spike were all hearts and flowers when no one was around? Not likely. They’ve always fought in every possible way – physically, verbally... So, why wouldn’t that carry over into the bedroom? Okay, so not going there. Really not ready to deal with all this. It’s enough to comprehend that Spike went and got himself a soul willingly… Uh, huh. And just what exactly do you think it took for a vampire to want his soul back – especially one who had seen what Angel went through (which always sounded pretty nasty even if he did deserve it)? If you say it was because of his obsession with Buffy, well that really doesn’t fly too well since she was already sleeping with him without a soul. If you say it was because of what he tried to do to Buffy, then you have to admit that he must have felt guilty about it, and since when in hell do demons feel guilt? If you say it was just a passing fancy, well not even Spike is that crazy and he’s certainly not stupid no matter what you’ve implied in the past. So, what does that leave…and can you admit it? Go ahead, give it a go. And what if it was because he wanted to be worthy of Buffy? Well, you couldn’t even commit to a few decades – give or take – of married life with the woman you love, while this soulless demon could commit to an eternity of guilt and torment for the woman he loves. So what does that say about him and what does that say about you? Xander sighed and rubbed his forehead. He really hated that insidious little mocking voice in his head and he decided he’d be very happy if it would just shut up and let him lapse back into the ignorant bliss he had spent years enjoying. He suspected, however, that those days were long gone – perhaps even back before Willow tried to destroy the world with those black eyes and that veiny face (still featured prominently in his nightmares on a recurring basis) or before Buffy started sleeping with a soulless demon (Well, that doesn’t exactly fit him anymore, now does it? Oh, shut up already!) or before he had left his fiancé weeping at the altar or even back before they had brought Buffy back from the dead – oh, yeah, those days of ignorance and innocence were definitely long gone. He sighed again and wondered what the others were thinking about.

Giles was simply reviewing the facts that he’d shared with the others to see if he’d overlooked anything important. There were still a few points they had to cover before things would be sufficiently explained and they could move on, and he was not particularly looking forward to some of what he still had to share with his young charges, but at least Angel got to take over the tale for a bit now. That would give him a chance to regroup and marshal his defenses, because the evening was not about to get any more pleasant when the full truth came out. He breathed deeply a few times and tried to relax his tired bones. Cracking his knuckles, he glanced up and around at the others gauging their reactions thus far. Angel of course had been in the know also and was not surprised by any of what he’d heard. Anya was taking it all in stride, but she usually did. Quite pragmatic – that girl is, although that’s not technically correct since she is a vengeance demon again. I’m going to have to talk to her about that one of these days, come to think of it. Buffy was very quiet and had obviously been shocked by what she’d heard so far tonight, but she seemed to be handling it pretty well at the moment. That, of course, won’t last for long when she hears the rest of this sordid affair. But, that will come in due time, I suppose. Despite his run of annoying questions earlier when he wouldn’t let Giles properly tell the tale of the Tantric Scrolls, Xander was now being surprisingly quiet on the subject of Spike. I wonder what’s going on there. Buffy must have said something before now to shut him up…or perhaps Dawn. She was always fond of Spike and I’m pretty sure she would have continued to defend him to Xander no matter what he said. Oh, well, I’m just glad not to have to deal with his narrow-minded, pig-headed nonsense tonight. Be thankful for small favors, Ripper, and don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Of course, this is the Hellmouth, so I can only imagine what that horse would look like! Giles snorted softly at his own nonsensical train of thought and wished for a very large glass of scotch.

Anya had already processed what Giles had shared with them so far. The bit about Spike going after his soul didn’t particularly surprise her. He was nothing, if not determined. So, why wouldn’t he do that if he thought it would solve his romantic problems or whatever. Just one more example of someone who operated more on emotion and passion than on logic and reason. She personally had always prided herself on being far more practical than anything else. Of course the rest of the news wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t the revelation to her that it was to the others. As a former – and now once again – vengeance demon, she had heard of the Tantric Scrolls on more than one occasion. She knew with deadly certainty just how serious this topic was – having seen more than one individual meet an untimely and violent demise by invoking the mystical properties protecting the Tantric Prophecies. She had no intention of missing any of what was said this evening in regards to that subject and she was ready to teleport out of there in a heartbeat if it looked like Giles was going to implode for speaking any untruths. Although it would be a shame if he did implode or was otherwise maimed. He’s not bad looking at all for an older man…actually he’s rather rugged now that I’m really looking at him. And he’s quite a good kisser as I recall. Even though we were only briefly engaged after that one spell of Willow’s, I remember feeling very safe with him – secure, even. I’ll bet he’d be like that in reality, too. Bet he wouldn’t have left me at the altar like Xander did. Hmm. That may be worth investigating. A relationship with Giles is a rather intriguing prospect – quite a bit of potential, possibly large payoffs. Now, how do I go about getting to know him better? Anya’s quick mind got immediately to work figuring out the intricacies of this rather stimulating challenge and she didn’t spare another thought for Spike, Dawn or any of the others until Angel started speaking.

Angel had already heard what Giles had shared with the others and he knew what was coming next, so he didn’t need to take the time to adjust to any new facts, so to speak. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to the rest of the evening, because he had a pretty good idea of what Buffy’s reaction would be and he didn’t doubt that he’d shoulder the brunt of it, even more so than Giles, for a number of reasons having to do with his past with both Spike and Buffy. However, he knew what he needed to say and he was prepared for it. He wasn’t too concerned about what Xander or Anya was thinking at the moment. He didn’t know Anya beyond their brief interaction at the hospital earlier this evening and he had never cared what Xander thought about pretty much anything at all. He already knew how Giles felt, so that was a given for him at this point. However, he was well-versed enough in dealing with humans to realize that they needed this time to process what they’d learned so far. If they didn’t take time to at least begin to work through this now, it would make the rest of the evening that much harder for them to cope with in the long run. And he was well over a quarter of a century now, so he could be patient and wait for them to be ready to move on. So, he kept an eye on each of them, but especially on Buffy, waiting for the body language signs that would let him know it was time to move ahead with the rest of the story. In the meantime, he allowed his mind to dwell on Spike as it had been doing for the past few weeks. Beyond what any of the others here could possibly imagine, he had the clearest comprehension of what Spike had done, and it overwhelmed him on a daily basis. None of them could possibly conceive what it meant to be a vampire and live that kind of life for decades on end. To be so free to take what you wanted when you wanted and not to be governed by morals or ethics or any human laws or codes was something that had to be experienced to be appreciated. To willingly give up this freedom for any reason whatsoever was more than Angel could conceive. He had not sought out his soul. Rather it had been violently thrust upon him as punishment by the gypsies in Romania. Eternal torment for his sins against mankind. He would have gladly staked himself at any point in time, but the soul would not allow it. So, instead he wallowed in guilt and self-loathing, not really living – just barely existing. If it hadn’t been for Whistler’s intervention, he knew without a doubt that he’d still be living in alleys and eating rats to survive. He had to be shown the way before he could make a decision to become a better person and try to atone for his sins. Spike, on the other hand, made the decision to change – first by getting the soul and second by deciding to work to become more than what he was – and then he was shown the way. And that’s what got Angel the most out of this whole mess. Spike had seen what had become of Angelus after the soul was restored and had looked upon him with scorn and loathing. No way would Spike want to become like that – not for any reason. However, he had willingly chosen to seek out his soul, knowing what the battle would be like and that the journey afterward would be hard and never-ending. Angel knew about the events in Buffy’s bathroom that had jump-started Spike’s quest for his soul. Spike had told him everything when he had shown up in LA a month ago…and what a night that had been…full of all sorts of interesting revelations – on both sides…but that was neither here nor there. The fact was that Angel did not think that it was solely guilt that had driven Spike to get the soul. First of all, since when did any soulless demon feel guilt – especially one like Spike? Second, you don’t make a decision like that overnight, even if you are brash and reckless and tend to act on emotion rather than logic. Not even Spike was crazy enough to do that on a whim. He might do a lot of stupid things without thinking them through, but Angel had no doubt that when he decided to get his soul back, Spike knew exactly what he was doing.









 
 
Chapter #9 - Ch 8 - A Clear Vision
 




Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






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BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
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Chapter Eight
Spike’s Journal – A Clear Vision






Day 11

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.











 
 
Chapter #10 - Ch 9 - Blurred Reflections
 



Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨





Chapter Nine
Spike’s Journal – Blurred Reflections







Day 12

‘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.









 
 
Chapter #11 - Ch 10 - Hindsight is 20/20
 




Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨





Chapter Ten
Spike’s Journal – Hindsight is 20/20






Day 13

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.








 
 
Chapter #12 - Ch 11 - Angel’s “Tale Spin”
 


Kindred Series


Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
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Chapter Eleven
Angel's "Tale" Spin









Angel was making the most interesting expressions, and Xander was completely fascinated. He had long ago decided that Angel only possessed two facial expressions – one of which caused him to look constipated. But tonight he was displaying a whole range of emotions that Xander had never imagined possible. Everything from fierce to concerned to amused to serious to pained. Currently he looked like he could easily pop a blood vessel, and Xander was just wondering if that was even possible with borrowed blood, when he was interrupted by a heavy sigh from Angel. Apparently he was going to try AGAIN to tell his share of what had been going on the past couple of months. Xander wondered how far he’d make it this time before one of them interrupted him with another question, and he was weighing the pros and cons of being that person. He had almost decided it would be worth it if he could see another one of those hysterical expressions cross Angel’s face, but he happened to look over and notice how stressed out Buffy looked and thought better of it. With a put-upon sigh, he decided to let Angel talk this time and get his jollies torturing Brood Boy another day.

Angel sighed heavily as his attempt to explain to the others what had been happening over the past few weeks was again interrupted. It seemed that he was only allowed to get out a few words before someone jumped in with a question or statement. The first hadn’t been totally unexpected. As soon as he said that “Will” had come to see him… Xander had butted in to ask who Will was. Fair question with an easy explanation. It took mere moments to explain that Spike had requested that he be referred to as Will and that he was simply honoring that request. That should have been a satisfactory explanation and he should have been able to continue his story. Instead, Buffy had turned to Giles demanding to know why he had constantly referred to Spike rather than Will earlier. Giles’ explanation that it was for simplicity sake to avoid these very questions seemed to pacify and Angel was allowed to continue. Again – a straightforward explanation. You would think that these children would have allowed me to move forward with my story after that, but, NO. Let me get a few more words out trying to get back on track and Anya interrupts me this time. And although I totally did not understand her references to the manliness of different misnomers and sexual appeal, I was already annoyed at being interrupted. Fortunately Giles took pity and got them to pay attention and listen. That lasted only moments before Buffy rebelliously muttered “no way in the world that Spike or Will or whoever would go to Angel for help rather than me.” At that point, Angel had been totally fed up with all of them and had snapped that as Will or Spike or whatever name you preferred had come to him for help, then maybe they could be bothered to listen to him for a change. With a thoroughly disgruntled expression and a barely muffled snort, Buffy motioned Angel to continue.

Finally. Now where was I? Oh, yeah, Will came to see me… “Will came to me for assistance for several reasons. One, he didn’t want anyone else in Sunnydale involved at this point other than Giles. Two, he knew I’d understand about the soul and be able to help him. Three, he wanted a chance to talk to me and mend some fences. Four, he wanted my help with what he knew was coming. Now, out of those four reasons, the first is self-explanatory and the middle two are private and not up for discussion AT ALL.” Angel paused for a moment to stare hard at each person to make certain they didn’t push him on the issue of privacy. No way in hell was he sharing any of that with anyone there, particularly Xander Harris.

Satisfied that they got his point, he continued. “The only part that really matters is what he shared with me about what was coming. First of all, understand that the main reason he returned to Sunnydale had to do with Dawn’s safety. Will knew that the rest of you were as likely to spit on him as anything else. He knew that although no one would welcome his return, he would have to face the consequences of past actions when he saw each 1of you, particularly you Buffy. And he had planned to do so in due time, but his first priority was Dawn. He had been having dreams over the summer that had him convinced that she was in danger. When he got back to Sunnydale, the first thing he did was trail Buffy which led him to the knowledge that Willow was in an asylum.”

Buffy started briefly at this fact and lost the pissed-off expression she had been wearing for the past few minutes. I had no idea that Spike was following me, never felt any tinglies…wonder why not? Oh, Angel is speaking, better pay attention before he gets mad again. Hmmph.

“When Spike saw Willow, he knew something was seriously wrong, particularly when he discovered she had been marked with a symbol which branded her as a vessel or chalice of some kind. When he brought this to Giles’ attention and they further researched it, they learned that the symbol was the mark of D’Alirtk. This was alarming because of the prophecies Giles unearthed regarding D’Alirtk and the opening of a particular dimensional doorway. I’ll let Giles give you the full history later if you want it. For now, suffice it to say that this was a very bad situation. D’Alirtk entered our dimension when Willow was channeling powers she never should have messed with, but she opened herself and he took advantage of this. When the power flow was cut off, he was still in non-corporeal form and was able to possess Willow’s body and mind, which is why she succumbed to catatonia. D’Alirtk had been using her as a vessel to sustain himself and grow stronger for several months by the time this marking was finally discovered. Willow’s life force was nearly drained by the time his followers performed the ritual to release and restore him tonight. And before any of you interrupt me again to ask, let me tell you that the only way to ensure Willow’s survival was to allow the ritual to proceed. Any other action might have successfully destroyed D’Alirtk, but at the cost of Willow’s life.”

“By the time Will came to L.A. to see me, he and Giles already knew that they would have to allow D’Alirtk to be released and gain corporeal form in order to save Willow. However, they had also learned that D’Alirtk was a powerful being in his own right. He had been imprisoned for centuries and took advantage of the disruption caused by Willow’s power surge to escape. He’s not part of our world and all signs indicated that he would attempt to return to his own dimension once he was corporeal again.”

Buffy interrupted him in a flat voice, “And that’s where Dawn came in, right? This Alert guy needed Dawn to open a door to his dimension, just like Glory did.” Her voice started to rise as her anger grew. “And I suppose you guys have a good explanation for why you let her be taken instead of letting me kill the bad guy, because that option sure makes sense to me. It is what I do, you know, kill demons and other bad types. Why…”

Angel spoke up quickly and cut her off before she could work up any more anger. “Buffy, let me finish, okay?” He waited for her sullen nod before continuing. Damn Spike anyway. He should be the one having to explain this and take the brunt of her ire, not me. “D’Alirtk did need Dawn to open the doorway that would led him return to his own dimension. Unlike Glory’s ritual though, he just needed to tap into her energy to do this, not her blood. Understand that D’Alirtk had been building up his energy for months now. If not handled properly the energy released from Willow would be potent enough to cause the equivalent of several nuclear explosions. What good would it have been to save Willow if we sacrificed ourselves and half the West Coast in the process? D’Alirtk needed to maintain a connection with Dawn to make the successful transition from our dimension to his own, but he had no need to harm her or keep her after that. We knew it wouldn’t kill her to open the door; however, it would kill all of us if we didn’t. So, all we had to do was figure out a way to ensure Dawn’s safety and her return home. And that is where Will came in to play. We had to time things perfectly to make sure he was able to join D’Alirtk just before the portal opened, so he’d be along for the ride. I hope you understand that’s why I tackled you, Buffy, to make sure everything went according to plan…”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as the Slayer was suddenly blazing forth and right in his face. “According to plan! I’ll give you according to plan. How about I plan the many ways I can hurt you? Or how about I plan not to trust you when it comes to issues of your sister’s safety? Oh, wait, that’s right, you don’t have a sister. So, how the hell would you understand how important Dawn is to me? Or how angry I am that you three would dare to make all these decisions without consulting me at all. I swear, Angel, I am not going to forgive you for this anytime soon. And that goes for you too, Giles.” And she whirled to direct her ire at her mentor. “How many times have we had these same arguments about other people deciding things for my own good? Both of you should have gotten the picture by now that I want to be kept in the loop – particularly where my family, my only family I might add, is concerned. I guess I shouldn’t be overly surprised that neither of you can get it through your thick heads to trust me with knowing what’s going on. But Spike has never presumed to do that before now. I would have expected him to tell me the truth no matter what was going on between us at the time. Did he just go along with your decision not to include me or was he a willing part of this conspiracy?”

A wary look passed between Angel and Giles that was not missed by the enraged Slayer who glared at both of them waiting for her answer. It was Giles who sighed and responded. “Actually Buffy, it was Spike’s idea not to tell you.” He hastened to get the rest of his explanation out as her jaw audibly dropped open. “There were several reasons why he didn’t want to tell you ranging from wanting to spare you a repeat of last year with Glory to being concerned that you wouldn’t trust him to keep Dawn safe.” He spoke louder to be heard over Buffy’s sputtered exclamations of outrage. “He had several valid points why ‘keeping you out of the loop’ was a wise measure to take. Speaking for myself though, the reason I decided to go along with that decision was because Spike wanted it that way. Seeing as he was the one making the sacrifice, I felt it only right that he deserved that consideration.” By the last he was shouting to be heard, but dead quiet fell in the room when Buffy softly repeated, “Sacrifice?” Oh, shit. Angel braced for the explosion that was sure to follow.

Giles took a moment to clean his glasses and calm down. Knowing that Buffy’s eyes were glued to him, he looked up and met her gaze fully. “Buffy, something happened during the course of discovery that we haven’t told you about yet. We were researching possible leads on the origin of the symbol marking Willow. There was a stack of books and papers on the table when Spike suddenly exclaimed that he’d found it. Much to my amazement, I saw he was reading from my copy of the monk’s journal and he wasn’t having any trouble doing so. One of traditionally agreed-upon characteristic of the Warrior is that he would be able to read Tantric prophecy just as the Guardians could. Well, that cinched it for me that Spike was indeed the Warrior. He spent days translating the rest of the journal so we’d have all the pertinent information. What we learned was most disturbing. It was foretold that the great demon D’Alirtk would escape his inter-dimensional imprisonment when the balance of power and energy was disrupted in favor of dark forces. That he would lie dormant until his faithful followers awakened him and that he would then harness the power of the Key to return to his dimension. The prophecy was quite clear that any attempts to circumvent that sequence would result in disaster for all. The Key would not perish in the journey but would be prevented from returning until the following Harvest Moon. Only the intervention and protection of the Warrior would ensure her safe return at that time, but at great personal cost. The prophecy was quite clear that the Warrior would leave our dimension, but would not return with the Key. As you can imagine, this was all quite encouraging news except for the part about the Warrior not returning. Well, never mind the fact that this was a Tantric Prophecy that could not be avoided, Spike wouldn’t even consider trying to change things when the plan for Dawn’s ensured safety was laid out so clearly in front of us. So, when he asked Angel and I not to reveal his presence to anyone for the time being, we readily agreed. We will be able to perform the ritual during the Harvest Moon in five weeks that will allow Dawn to return home via portal. Spike made certain that we had the necessary translations prior to leaving, and he will keep Dawn safe until then, no matter the cost. His sacrifice is really quite admirable and we should not tarnish that by bemoaning his willing choice to sacrifice himself for Dawn’s sake.”

There was absolute silence as Giles finished talking. Angel had been expecting an explosion. Giles was expecting tears. Xander expected more angry words. Anya expected denial. What none of them expected was for Buffy to simply get up and walk out of the apartment without a word to any of them. As the door closed, it occurred to both Giles and Angel that sometimes silence spoke more loudly than any noise could.






TBC

 
 
Chapter #13 - Ch 12 - Through the Glass Darkly
 



Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨





Chapter Twelve
Through the Glass Darkly







Day 67

…It’s all about choices, innit? Decisions we make that bloody well affect the way our lives or un-lives, as the case may be, turn out. We all have reasons for the soddin’ decisions we make, even if we’re not totally aware of them at the time. But there’s a reason you choose the chicken cacciatore over the shrimp scampi. Maybe it’s because you were in the mood for chicken that night, maybe you’re allergic to shellfish, whatever – still a reason for your choice. I doubt anyone’s aware enough to realize the reasons behind all the bloody decisions we make each day. Lots o’ decisions made on instinct or emotion, no real thought behind them. Usually it’s just the big decisions that we worry about, reason out, dwell on, and rationalize. And even then you usually can’t see the truth behind those reasons until much farther down the road. Most of us don’t want to know the truth…we’d rather hide behind the reasons we’ve told ourselves, even when we know that we’re well and buggered already.

Well, that stops now for me. I’m bloody shot of hiding behind half-truths and excuses and rationalizations. I’ve made a lot of bad decisions and in the end I can honestly say that regardless of the reason, the truth behind that was my own selfishness. I chose to let Dru turn me – didn’t even try to fight it. Sure she was stronger ‘n me and I probably wouldn’t have gotten away, but I didn’t even try because I bloody well wanted what she was offering. I didn’t know exactly what that was, but to me it meant acceptance, by a beautiful woman no less, and I selfishly grabbed hold, not once stopping to consider any possible consequences. Killing Slayers – that was all about glory and reputation and proving myself to Angelus, Dru and even Darla. Again a conscious choice made for selfish reasons. Performing the ritual to heal Dru with Angel’s blood – sure I loved her and didn’t want her to suffer, but that ritual was so I wouldn’t lose her and be alone. Selfish choices, every one, made based on what I wanted. Giles made me an offer once… He suggested that maybe my chip was a chance from the Powers that I could use to make a difference. I could have considered this or at least listened to him, but I didn’t want to be bothered because I was too selfish to consider using m’ time to help others. Even killin’ demons and patrolling have been to satisfy m’ demon’s need for violence. I never thought about any people might ‘ve been saved cause a demon was no longer a threat to ‘em.

I don’t think I’ve made any decisions since I was turned that were based on unselfish motivation until the past year or so, and even then the only ones I can in good conscience claim as mostly unselfish are those related directly to either Joyce or Niblet in some way or t’other. Any decisions made regarding Buffy may have been decent on occasion, but there was always a thought in the back of m’ head about how it would affect me. Didn’t want her datin’ no one but me, didn’t want her dyin’ and leavin’ me, didn’t want her usin’ me for sex – wanted love, but was still willin’ to settle for sex so long as I was getting’ somethin’ out of it. Bloody hell, but I make myself sick. Problem with all this is if I choose to just wallow in these realizations and mistakes from my past, then I’m still bein’ selfish. Focused inward and all that rot. Never mind that I’d be thoroughly buggered right now if I hadn’t taken the time to work through some of this. It’s been over 2 months and it’s about time I started thinkin’ about movin’ on.

I’ll sure hate to leave Ruth & Mitchell though… Although that’s kind of selfish of me too, isn’t it? Because they’ve been so good to me, and no one’s ever treated me as well as they have, and I’ve felt safe here, and I’ll miss them. Arghh!! I’ll go bug-shaggin’ crazy if I don’t stop thinkin’ like this. It’s got to be okay to be selfish sometimes! And I think I’m okay with bein’ selfish in this case, because I genuinely like these people. They’re the kind of people that I could learn somethin’ from. They’re good people and generous by nature, givin’ to poor sods like m’self that don’t deserve another chance. Well, they gave me that ‘n’ more. Time for me to show them that I wasn’t a waste of time and effort. Time for me to show everyone what I’ve learned and how I’ve changed.


Day 69

…Been talkin’ to Ruth ‘n’ Mitchell ‘bout leavin’ and what comes next for me. I can’t ignore the dreams, which are comin’ almost every night now. I know in my heart that Dawn is in danger, so Sunnydale is my destination. But I’ve got a few stops to make first, some scores to clear before I c’n get on with m’ life. Mitchell promised to get me whatever I needed in the way of supplies for my trip, and also that he and Ruth would be thinkin’ of me and prayin’ for me as I face the days ahead. Wonder who they pray to? Never really asked ‘em about it, never thought about it before now. With all they know and all they’ve been exposed to, do they prefer the Christian God, the Powers That Be, or some other unknown deity? Do prayers go into a void in the ether if they’re not directed at a potent entity? Maybe it doesn’t matter who you pray to as long as you’ve got faith. Maybe none of it matters, but I’m suddenly thinkin’ about this and wonderin’ who I could pray to for help. ‘Cause I’m gonna need all the bloody help I can get. But who answers the prayers of the likes of me?


Day 78

Well, it’s almost time to leave the place that’s become my home these past couple months. Ruth & Mitchell are family to me now, and as such they told me there’d always be a spot for me with them. That’s a heart warmin’ thought, that is. I don’t want to leave, but I know I need to do so. I’ve been havin’ an odd dream the past few nights and it’s always the same. A woman is beckoning me to follow her down a dimly lit path, and although I can’t see the way clearly, I know that she can and she won’t lead me astray. Her face is hidden in shadow when she looks back at me, but she is familiar. I know her from somewhere, but I can’t place it. And I can’t catch up with her no matter how fast I run. But still I catch glimpses of her ahead of me on the trail and still she beckons me to continue on the path I’m treading. Is this metaphorical? Perhaps prophetical? Nonsensical, maybe? I don’t know, but each night I have this dream. And each day I awaken a little bit more ready to leave, a little bit more ready to face what comes next. So, maybe it’s just my subconscious at work in this dream… But I can’t shake the feelin’ that there’s somethin’ familiar about this woman in my dream. If I could just bloody well figure it out, I think I’d have some answers…


Day 92

Ruth and Mitchell are dead! That hurts me more ‘n I can say. It’s been over a week since I returned from a trip to town to find their bodies savaged by those Tertutio demon buggers. I wasn’t there to protect them and they’re gone now. And sure I had no bloody way in the world of knowin’ what would happen when I went to buy m’ train ticket. Could just ‘s easily ‘ve happened after I left. I know that, but knowin’ it doesn’t make me feel any better. How can somethin’ so horrible happen to such wonderful people? They were tortured, for cripes sake. No dignity in that and certainly no mercy from those soddin buggers. Wish I had some more of ‘em to kill right now. I’m angrier than I c’n recall ever bein’ before. I get so mad at the injustice. Funny, innit? Me talkin’ about injustice. Given my history, that’s a bit of a lark. ‘Kay, calm down. That hysterical giggle drew some attention from the nearest passengers on the plane. I don’t need anyone askin’ me if everythin’s okay right now. My answer just might blow their mind. Great, just great. Now I’ve got mental images of explodin’ heads and I’m wonderin’ if that would have enough force to bust a window and depressurize the cabin. Be a shame to die in a crash on m’ first flight sittin’ in a seat lookin’ out the window at the sun. Bloody hell, but I’m miserable right now. Maybe some J.D. would help. He’s never failed me before now. Where’s that stewardess or flight attendant or whatever they’re called these days…

I have actual food for thought, and that’s much tastier ‘n the crap they serve on these flights. Seriously, this woman in the aisle across from me started talkin’ somewhere after the 4th shot of Jack and I guess I’d had enough to hold a conversation, p’rhaps not too coherently, but still. Anyway, she turned out to be a shrink and got me to tell ‘er about losin’ my friends. And then I started talkin’ ‘bout my feelin’s like some nancy-boy! There are some aspects of havin’ a soul that make me sick for reasons entirely separate from the guilt. Loss of any machismo I ever had in moments like these…definitely at the top of that list! So, anyway, Shrinkin’ Violet there tells me that I’m grievin’ and proceeds to explain the stages of grief to me. Never knew about those ‘fore now. ‘Parently I’m hoverin’ around Anger, with still a touch of Denial. Don’t know about this Bargaining business though. Not too sure I take any truck with that. Can’t get ‘em back, burned the bodies m’self, so what kind of bargains am I supposed to try ‘n’ make? And who has time to be Depressed? I’ve got things to accomplish and loved ones – er, one, anyway – to save. Lil Bit’s safety trumps any emotions I need to sort through still. So sod this psychobabble bullshit. Ill just have to jump straight to the Acceptance portion of this so-called process. Thanks to Ruth and Mitchell, I’m stronger ‘cause of them. I’m not sure I’m a better man yet, but I want to be and I’m workin’ toward that. And I’m better prepared to handle things. But I still feel very alone now that they’re gone. Oh, bloody bugger me upside down and six ways from Sunday! Isolation went hand-in-hand with the Denial stage. Maybe there’s somethin’ to this grief process after all. Where’d Shrinkin’ Violet get to? I need another drink and maybe some tips on how to deal with this.


Day 110

Haven’t had much time to write lately. Got back to the States and returned to Sunnyhell to find things gone to pot. Found an unlikely ally in ol’ Rupert and we’ve had our hands full figurin’ out what’s happenin’ with Red. Couldn’t get much worse than what we learned. Seems a shame to gain life and immediately lose it. It looks like it’s comin’ up on the end for me. Or at least the end of my time in this dimension. ‘Cordin’ to that prophecy, I’m not gonna return from this little junket. Maybe, maybe not. Don’t rightly care s’long as Niblet gets home okay. Don’t know why I won’t be able to return, prophecy doesn’t say. Giles surely believes it’s true though, so I guess I should, too. Maybe I’ll die. Maybe I’ll end up getting’ sucked into some hellhole for eternity. Don’t really have time to worry ‘bout it right now. Too busy getting things in order before the ritual. Me ‘n’ Giles ‘n’ the Magnificent Poof have been over the plan countless times, but if we don’t get this right then we’re well and buggered, and I can’t let that happen. Maybe I’d best go over it again.






Angel, if you’re readin’ my journal, you’re not just a Poofter, you’re also a bloody insufferable Wanker for doin’ so. Stop usin’ all that hair gel and your forehead won’t stick out so much. (And promise to take care of m’ girls after I’m gone, ‘kay?)

And if anyone else is readin’ this, please don’t think too badly of me in the end. I’m just a flawed man who’s made too many mistakes to count. Hopefully forgiveness exists somewhere for the likes of me. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.





TBC
 
 
Chapter #14 - Ch 13 - Now I See Clearly
 




Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨





Chapter Thirteen
Now I See Clearly





‘Stop usin’ all that hair gel and your forehead won’t stick out so much.’ Buffy snorted out loud while reading that line even as a lone tear coursed down her cheek and landed on the open page of Spike’s journal. Silently she shut the journal and laid it reverently to the side. Closing her eyes, she leaned wearily on the bed behind her. She had been holed up in the mansion for three days reading Spike’s journal. She had left twice to patrol when the need to work off her frustrated restless energy struck. Other than that, she had not stirred from this spot even to eat, as evidenced by the untouched sandwiches Angel had brought.

Normally Buffy had a healthy enough appetite, but that had totally diminished in the past two weeks since Spike and Dawn’s disappearance and the subsequent shocking revelations. For the first week or so afterward Buffy had avoided all of them. She had patrolled unceasingly, coming home only to shower, change or sleep when the others were away. She had no desire to “talk about her feelings” with any of them. Why don’t my friends understand after all this time? There were only two choices in this case for me – shut down or break down. I couldn’t afford to fall apart again. I did that back when Glory took Dawn and look what happened. They may not understand Action Buffy, but she gets the job done. Emotional Buffy on the other hand is pretty much useless in these types of situations. Spike would have understood that. Why can’t they? So she had simply kept away from them. They so didn’t get it and she didn’t have the words to make them see that she was coping in her own way. At least she thought she was until Angel had caught up with her on patrol a few days ago.

She was prepared to hear Angel lecture her. She was prepared to hear all about how she was ignoring her friends who only wanted to help. She was prepared to hear him tell her about Willow. And she was even prepared to fight Angel. She was actually looking forward to the opportunity to kick his ass for leaving her out of the loop again. But he robbed her of that chance by being totally non-confrontational, an unusual occurrence at best. Angel had approached her while she was fighting a fledge, but he hadn’t tried to interrupt her fight. He had simply waited by a tombstone out of the way until she was done. Then he had walked up to her and handed her a key, which had taken her totally by surprise. What the hell? Angel had started to walk away while she was still staring nonplussed at the key, but then he’d stopped and quietly told her that it was the key to the mansion where Spike had been staying and he thought she might like to check it out. She probably would have told him off for daring to think for her again, but she’d been so absorbed in staring at the key that literally might hold some answers for her that she’d not even noticed when he’d disappeared. Buffy wasn’t sure how long she stood there before reality came back into focus for her, but eventually she’d started walking and ended up at the mansion. Not a place that held good memories for her, Buffy had taken a deep breath before walking inside and looking around. A quick search had turned up which room was Spike’s and it had taken her only moments to spot the journal. It took less time than that to decide to read it.

So here she sat three days later trying to process all that she’d read. Spike’s words had taken her on an emotional roller coaster that she was not prepared for at all. She had laughed and cried and gotten angry (both at him and on his behalf). He had covered so much and there was so much history that she hadn’t known before. A noticeable gap in the book was the time last year when they had been together. It looked like those pages had been torn out, and on the next page there was a cryptic note that had really thrown her. Reading Spike’s innermost thoughts was actually kind of scary. He felt things so deeply and with a passion that frightened her for its intensity. How could he live like that and not go crazy? She could barely function when she allowed herself to explore emotions on anything more than a surface level. It was too overwhelming. And that’s really how she felt right now – kind of overwhelmed.

Buffy wasn’t very good with feelings and emotions – everyone knew that. And that was just her own – trying to consider someone else’s feelings was more than difficult for her…it was totally draining. Which is why she fell fast asleep after only a few minutes of reflection. Angel found her still leaning against the wall hours later. She looked uncomfortable, so he moved her to the bed and covered her up before leaving again. He figured she needed this time to deal with things, and he really hoped that she was dealing.

Buffy awoke early the next morning feeling energized and full of purpose. Sitting up – alert and wide-awake, she stared thoughtfully at the journal on the nightstand. Reading that had been a real eye-opener for her. Really seeing Spike…seeing herself and the others through his eyes…amazing what you could miss even when you were right there. Not that his viewpoint was necessarily better than hers, but it mattered. And she was suddenly struck by the realization that things could be viewed differently without one perspective being “wrong or right” and that was like a major insight for her. Buffy felt something shift inside of her with that train of thought and decided to let it continue on its current course. She continued to muse as she got up and cleaned up the food that Angel had left out for her. She wrestled with a particularly difficult to let go of bias as she gave the room the once-over and decided to take the journal with her. As she walked out the door of the mansion, she let go of the black & white view she had held close to her heart for years now – since Angelus, really. Taking a deep breath of morning air, she stood on the porch and watched the sunrise on a new day. With new purpose in her step, Buffy strode away from the scene of former heartbreak and walked into her new life. Determined to try to be more open to other views in the future. Determined to explore emotions on more than a surface level. Determined to get back both her sister and the blond who she now realized she’d never gotten to know in the past. Because she wanted him back, she wanted another chance, she wanted to start over.






The night of the Harvest Moon had seemed like it was very far away when Buffy had first approached Giles and the others with every intention of finding a way to get Spike back along with Dawn. The time had dragged on during the unbearably dull hours of research once Giles had finally agreed that there was no harm in trying to get Spike back. He hadn’t wanted to agree, but when Buffy had stubbornly reminded him that he had said that Tantric Prophecy wouldn’t punish you for trying to prevent or change something. Also, the prophecy didn’t say why the Warrior couldn’t return. Maybe he was fighting or trapped by something on the other side of the portal and that was why only Dawn could come back through. Well, why couldn’t they create two portals? One for Dawn to come back alone and a second for her to go through and return with Spike afterward. That wouldn’t go against the prophecy, would it? Giles had looked pole-axed at that – both because Buffy had recalled his words and repeated them back to him almost verbatim, and also because he had no good argument for her suggestions. So, the gang – including Willow who was still weak and very quiet, but determined to help – set about trying to find a way to allow Spike to return. The ritual itself was very simple and tied into Dawn’s essence to locate her and open the portal. The same language could be used to create another portal that would tie into the Warrior’s essence and return Spike separately. It was a more cheerful Scooby Gang that noted the look of relief and happiness on Buffy’s face when they determined it was possible to get Spike back intact. Giles was still concerned about the prophecy and warned her not to get her hopes up too high just in case they’d misinterpreted something, but Buffy would not be deterred in her optimism. She was going to get both her sister and her erstwhile lover back.

It had seemed like the Harvest Moon would never arrive. Now it was here and they were set up for the ritual, just waiting on Giles to let them know when to start. Finally he signaled it was time and everyone took their places. Willow was not participating in the ritual, so Anya would be assisting Giles with the actual ceremony. Willow and Xander were waiting with water, blankets and bandages since they didn’t know what condition Dawn or Spike would be in when they came through. Angel was armed with a broadsword in case anything unfriendly came through also. And Buffy was practically bouncing on her toes with nervous energy as she stood at the farthest point from the center of the sacred circle while still remaining inside. They had determined that it made the most sense to open both portals at once. That had been Giles’ brainchild, as they had no idea how time moved wherever Dawn and Spike were. Since they would be in the same place at the same time, that one moment was their best bet for getting to Spike when they knew he’d still likely be alive and whole.

As the words echoed and the candles flared, a gust of wind lifted Buffy’s hair off her shoulders and she shivered. The flames flickered, but the candles did not go out. Instead they blazed higher and brighter than any candle should as twin circles of light suddenly appeared in the middle of the sacred circle. Buffy was amazed that she could not only see clearly through both portals into the other world, but she could hear sounds also. A fierce cry alerted her to their presence, and spotting what had to be Spike in battle with something she couldn’t identify and what looked like Dawn just past him, Buffy took off at a run for her portal. And proceeded to bounce off an invisible barrier of some sort at the point of entry. Confused, she got back up, and tried to jump into the other portal instead…only to be met with the same results. Buffy’s anguished cry echoed through the night as everyone there stared at the portals waiting to see what would happen next.

Neither Dawn nor Spike seemed to be aware of the portals hovering behind them at first. They were both focused on the hand-to-hand combat Spike was engaged in currently. Slowly each of the Scoobies realized that beyond Dawn and Spike and back a few paces was a whole army also focused on the outcome of this fight. Buffy felt sick as she now knew without a doubt why the Warrior didn’t return – surely that army was more than any one man could fight alone. She wanted to throw up or scream, but all she could do was stare at the tableau unfolding through the portal.

Spike and his opponent continued to battle it out until a change in position allowed him to see the portals. He immediately yelled for Dawn, telling her it was time. Dawn shook her head and didn’t even bother to look over. Spike’s movements became more erratic as he continued to shout at Dawn to leave. She did look at the portal this time, and seemed surprised by it, or perhaps by the fact that there were two of them. Buffy wondered vaguely if they could see her on this side. But instead of running over and escaping, Dawn stood her ground just outside the perimeter of the fight. Spike looked almost panicked by now as he screamed that she had to leave NOW. Buffy could hear her sister’s yell “Not without you!” just before Spike risked a shocked look at Dawn. It cost him. He lost his footing and his opponent moved in for the kill, catching Spike’s weapon with his own and wrenching it out of his grasp. No one could look away as they saw the battle axe swing up in a high arc and come slicing down toward Spike. Only he was suddenly covered by Dawn who was shielding him from the blow. The last sight was the blade whistling toward her face and her mouth moving saying something, and then both portals suddenly winked out of existence.

The absolute silence that followed was ended abruptly by Buffy’s hysterical screams. Giles made it to her side just before she collapsed. He realized that the connections with both Dawn and Spike had been snapped ending the portals, and he feared they had just seen first-hand why that had happened. But he didn’t understand it at all. Tantric prophecy had been clear about the Key returning, but not the Warrior. He was at a loss to explain what had just happened and had no idea what to say to console his Slayer and was grateful that she was currently unconscious. The others were just standing around in various stages of shock – Willow was crying, Anya looked surprised and sad, Xander looked like he had been punched in the gut, and Angel looked as confused as Giles felt. Their eyes met briefly exchanging a message. What the hell just happened?

A loud crackle of energy off to the side drew their attention. A bright blue light flashed, blinding everyone. When it cleared, they could see two people – a man lying prone on the ground and a young woman bent over him. She raised her head and tear-stained cheeks came into sight. Anguished blue eyes radiated immense pain as Dawn screamed for help. Angel made it to her side first and could see immediately that Dawn was not hurt. Not a drop of blood anywhere. He could see that the man was similarly untouched. Dropping to the ground, he saw that the man was Spike and he was still alive. Just what the hell was going on here?





End of Book One

Book Two coming soon