Drama/Action/Romance/Crossover

Post Chosen in the Buffy Verse.
Pretty up to date in the DC Universe.

All Characters Belong to their respected owners, which unfortunately isn’t me. Unless it’s an original character, but I don’t have any in this story….yet.

Note: I'd like to thank Squirl and Redwulf50 for their help on this story.

He didn’t think death would be like this. It was just an eternal black void. Miles of black nothingness that never changes no-matter how far you walk. He thought there would be fire bearing down on his back as chains of ice bound his wrists while he stood knee deep in burning oil. In his wildest dreams it would be a place bathed in light where he would be at peace, where he would be…warm and loved.

He isn’t sure how long he’s been here, months possibly years. He knows that not to be an exaggeration. It has been months, he’s been counting. At first he occupied his time, humming. Singing. Screaming. Yelling. Sobbing. His voice never echoed inside the void, something he found so disconcerting that he eventually stopped talking. He hasn’t heard the sound of his own voice in months. All he does is think and count. Count the seconds away as he thinks over the last 120 years.

Spike wearily sighed as he brought his knees to his chest, hugging them to himself. ‘Another day’ he thought to himself as he finished counting the last second of the previous day. Another day of feeling nothing but a numb ache through out his body. The ache of the dead undead. Spike snorted at the idea.

Spike rested his head on his knees and closed his eyes. Letting the images that always appear when he closes his eyes wash over him. No images of mayhem or murder, people laying at his feet with their throats ripped out, blood black as midnight in the moon light. No he never felt guilt for the things he did when he had no soul. Never felt the need to burden his soul with things it didn’t participate in. No the images were of simple things.

Joyce giving him a cup of hot chocolate. Willow comforting him even though he was threatening to stick a bottle in her face. Dawn with wide and fascinated blue eyes listening to his gory exploits with Drusilla. Drusilla sliding a fingernail down his chest, cutting the flesh and watching the beads of crimson life form and pour out. Him watching her lovingly as she sensuously trailed her tongue over the cut. His mother listening to his awful poetry and genuinely finding it beautiful. The way Buffy’s hair gleamed in the sunlight. It was worse remembering these things then seeing the blood. If all he saw was guilt and opened his eyes then he could welcome the darkness. All he sees is love just to open his eyes and realize there is nothing but darkness.

Deep in the soles of Spike’s feet he could feel a tingle building up. At first it was a little nagging tingle but soon turned into a nagging sting. The sting started to build faster and faster.

“Well this is new.” Spike’s voice hoarse from months of non use rang out.

“Ow.” He stated as the sting start to become an unbearable force, it felt like millions of flaming needles were exploding in his feet.

“Ow, ow, ow AHHHH.” He began to scream as the pain started to rapidly spread throughout his body. His muscles felt like they were being ripped apart, and needles were traveling through his veins. His bones felt like they instantly decaying and swears he feels fire dancing beneath his skin.

His screams become more agonizing as he withers on the voids floor. He flaps around wildly no longer thinking about what makes since and what doesn’t, just hoping, praying, wishing, the pain to leave.

A bright white light starts to emit from his chest, his skin begins to crack as the light busts through. With one last scream –

“NOOOOOO!” Spike in all regards exploded with pure white light, creating an illumines wave spreading like wildfire through out the void.

All was silent in Spike’s mind has the pain subsided, as he slowly gained consciousness he kept his eyes closed, afraid of what he might see. Spike’s mind almost didn’t register that he was floating down, that he could feel a chilled wind against his body. When he landed he could feel the concrete beneath him, he could hear the sounds of life, cars moving, steps beings made, and to his utter astonishment…he could feel his heart beating.

Spike kept his eyes closed at first, afraid to open them and wake up in darkness once again. When he heard two sets of feet silently making their way over to his body he realized he needed to get mobile. He quickly opened his eyes and saw two blurry images quickly making their way to him.

One was in a two-toned blue suit and a small mask covering his eyes, his hair was jet black. Spike couldn’t make much out details, but could see that he was fit and on guard. The other was in all black, a heavy looking cape draped over the man like a shroud. He wore a mask that covered his entire head and had two sharp points on both sides of it. He was an experienced fighter with a slightly brooding attitude.

Spike jumped up and kicked the one in blue squarely in the chest, sending him several feet back and crashing into some crates. He heard a muffled yell, it sounded like “Nightwing!” But Spike wasn’t sure, he was sure however that the one in all black was pissed and heading for him fast.

As the dark figure jumped at him, Spike using his opponents momentum against him grabbed the lapels of his cape and flung the dark figure over his head, sending him crashing into a wall. He didn’t have time for a brawl, he could barely see or hear. He looked around wildly like an animal trapped in cage, trying to find some way out of the warehouse. For reasons unknown to him he felt a force drive him in the direction of the wall.

Spike sprinted towards the brick wall, unsure why he thinks this is a good idea, but he’s had worse plans in the past. Spike closed his eyes and leapt at the wall, going right through it and into the cold rainy night.

He started to gasp and leaned against the wall. He was taking in deep breaths as he rested temporarily.

“Need…to remember…to… breath.” He said in-between his short gasps.

Spike stared down the alley, his vision only slightly clearing up and ran into the darkness of the city.

‘Always back to darkness.’ He thought, even the voice in his mind sounded drained.

Back inside the warehouse…
Nightwing winced slightly as he stood up, brushing the pieces of wood and saw bust off his suit. His hand began to rub the part of his chest where he was kicked.

“Guy’s strong.” He stated matter-of-factly.

Batman moved over to his sons side, his eyes quickly scanning over Nightwing for injuries, his face an ever stoic mask.

“He should be…he used to be a vampire.” He stated solemnly.

“Vampire? Well wish I could say that’s new. Wait – what do you mean used to be?” Dick Grayson aka Nightwing asked confusedly.

“I mean the last I heard of William the bloody, he died closing one of the mouths of hell to save the world, and the last time I checked, Vampires can’t dissolve into walls.”

“So he’s a good guy? Then why attack us?” Nightwing asked.

“He looked scared like he didn’t know what was going on, maybe he doesn’t.” Batman said as he strode towards the back entrance of the warehouse. Nightwing quickly following.

“You think he really came back from the dead…or is it something else?” Nightwing wondered.

Without looking back Batman answered, “Let’s find out.” He pulled something out of his utility belt and pressed a button. The shields on the batmobile deactivated and the rooftop door opened up. Batman quickly jumped in and started his vehicle. Nightwing followed suit getting into his car – the Nightbird.

Batman turned on his car’s computer.

“Oracle.” His voice called.

“Yeah Bruce?” Barbara Gorden aka Oracle responded.

“Get me everything you can on the death of Spike, aka William the Bloody.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

Batman turned off his computer and drove off to find the recently resurrected former vampire.

In the Nightbird…
Nightwing turned on his com link.

“Hey Barbara.” He stated her name a bit nervously.

“Yes Dick?” Babs as others affectionately called her responded in a no non-sense tone.

“Do you think that maybe…we…ah..could go on a Date tomorrow, night?” The usually clam Dick Grayson anxiously asked.

“I thought I told you we are on a break.” She said coolly, but you can hear the frustration building.

“Well yeah I kn-“ he was cut off by a sudden explosion.

The nightbird flipped through the air half of the car aflame and ripped up. Past the wild flames you can see the unconscious Nightwing, his face covered in soot, his suit also aflame.

The spinning ball of fire and metal finally crashed into a body of water, a huge lake that is located next to the warehouse district. It made a rip-roaring splash that put out all the flames. The nightbird with Nightwing in it began to sink.

In the middle of the street you can see Nightwings com link.

“Dick? What Happened? Dick tell me what’s going on!” Barbara’s panicked voice emitted from the com link.

“DICK!” She screamed one last time before a gray and scaly foot smashed it. The foot began to twist side to side, further destroying the com link. A missile launcher dropped down next to his feet.

We travel up the body of the mysterious figure; we see that he’s wearing torn and dirty jeans. As we continue up we see he’s wearing no shirt, his skin rough and gray with a texture resembling Alligator skin. We finally see the figure in his glory; his shoulders slouched as he holds wolfish grin on his face. It was Killer Croc.

His hands began to imitate the explosion as his deep voice rang out, “Boom.”

TBC…

Spike was almost hypnotized by his own breathing as he ran down the wet alleyway. Plop, plop, plop – the noise of his boots colliding with the damp Gotham street echoed. His running slowed down as he took a chance to catch his breath and get a grip of his surroundings.

Catch his breath, God it was amazing to him that he even had to catch his breath. 120 years since he needed to breathe, of course he never really stopped breathing. He always kept breathing so people wouldn’t get suspicious. But for the first time in years he needed to breath.

As his vision cleared he noticed two things. One he couldn’t see that well in the dark anymore, but he had a feeling he could see better than most people. Things used to be so clear even in the dark, but now the shadows have dimmed on him. Making it where he can only see clear outlines. Two he was in Gotham City. He should know he’s in Gotham; it was after all one of his and Dru’s favorite hangouts in the 50’s. They spent a decade in the bleak city adding to the mayhem and destruction that already accompanied it. Of course he always preferred Bludhaven, now there was a city for demons.

But he remembers Gotham the most. The fight that Spike is most proud of in his entire unlife happened here. If you asked Angel he would say that Spike’s favorite fight was with the first Slayer he killed, but Angel doesn’t know as much as he likes to think. If you asked Buffy she would say that Spike’s favorite fights were with her, but alas even his love is wrong.

Now the fight that almost took his life just over 50 years ago happened here, when he went one on one with the Green Lantern, Alan Scott. He and Dru were trying to find a crystal that would bring the Master out of his mystical prison, and it was reported to have been sent to a museum in Gotham. Now Spike never did like Ol’ Bat Face, but he also couldn’t resist his dark princess, she wanted to free him so he wanted to free him too. When he tried to steal the crystal he was confronted by Green Lantern and the fight was on.

The fight took two hours only to end in a tie and the destruction of the crystal. He remembered when he discovered that Alan’s ring didn’t work on wood, he grabbed a 2 by 4 and started deflecting Alan’s energy beams. In that situation Spike knew that the further away he was from The Green Lantern the more he himself was at a disadvantage. He needed to get close and stay close. Soon enough he got the chance, getting up, close and personal with the Green Lantern. He then proceeded to beat Alan Scott senseless with the 2 by 4. One more minute and Alan’s brain matter would have been splattered against the floor, but he pulled off a lucky shot and sent Spike flying.

The Battle continued like that for a while, Spike’s speed and 2 by 4 helped him dodge the blasts and Alan’s very painful realization that he can’t let Spike get close again kept him even more alert then usual.

After the crystal was destroyed Spike stopped the battle, declaring that he’d be back another day. He then practically skipped back to his lair, his adrenaline was peaked. He just stood one on one with one of the best Super heroes in the world, and tied. A member of the JSA, the protector of Gotham back then, and he tied. When he got back to the lair he celebrated, and for the first time dominated Drusilla in all aspects of their relationship, something that turned her on immensely – she always did like being dominated. They feasted on children and screwed for an entire week.

Spike shook his head of the memory, slightly bothered that the idea of he and Dru didn’t bring on feelings of disgust or longing. He remembered in Sunnydale when he first got his soul he was always bothered with conflicting emotions. His demon was always lusting towards blood, itching for a death, while his calm and peaceful poet's soul looked down on such things, it wanted Spike to stop and sit down, read a nice book of poetry and ignore the atrocities of the battle with the first.

The demon’s gone that much he knew, but if he was to guess he’d say he wasn’t entirely human either. Passing through walls like a bloody ghost of all things, yet he’s leaning up against a wall right now, shivering in the cold night.

Spike closed his eyes wearily, but then opened them quickly, not yet ready to be in nothing but darkness again. Spike began to wonder – ‘My demon is gone, does that mean I’m William?’ His face became a mask of concentration. The months in perpetual darkness gave him a long time to think on his life and his choices. Things he could have done better, smarter, faster, once again beating himself up for not being good enough.

‘Never bloody good enough.’ He thought bitterly, Spike was never good enough, not good enough to love, not good enough of a warrior, not a good childe just a mistake always a mistake. These thoughts started to bring Spike to a rage, but he soon calmed down. When trapped in months of solitude, you learn to be patient – at least he learned to be patient with himself.

‘Don’t get me started on Nancy boy William.’ He thought. So weak and quiet, never spoke up or defended himself, not rich enough, not smooth enough, beneath others.

Spike shook his head, ‘But I’m not William am I? I have his soul but does that make me him? If I’m not William…am I Spike?’ His questions began to race through his mind.

‘Let’s see,’ Spike raised his hand, which was loosely balled into a fist. ‘I still like Manchester United, I still like hot wings and beer,’ His fingers started to pop up as he counted his list off. ‘T.S. Eillot, my mother, Buffy, Joyce.’ As he counts the list off he finds that he is still likes and loves the same things. Yet he isn’t meek like William, or craves the things that Spike craves.

He tilted his head forward and rested on his hands, a tired sigh escaped his lips.

If he was given an obstacle he knew he wouldn’t handled the situation like either entity. He wasn’t yet sure how he’d handle it, but he knows that it wouldn’t be the same. So the question that we all pondered when such situations become our life escaped his lips.

“Who am I?”

He then heard an explosion and the screech of metal being ripped apart. His head jerking in the direction of the sound and before he could even think, his feet were taking him to it’s source.

Spike soon found himself exiting the alleyway and standing in front of a large lake. He continued on to the noise. Up ahead of Spike he sees a car slowly sinking into the water and a large gray beast dropping a missile launcher on to the ground.

“Ugly Bugger.” Spike muttered to himself before sprinting towards the Alligator like creature.

“Boom.” He heard the beast say, just moments before he leapt into the air.

“Hey!” Spike said in mid-air to get Croc’s attention.

Croc turned to Spike’s leaping figure and before he could say anything he found Spike’s fist planted right in his mouth.

“Bloody Boom!” Spike shouted as Killer Croc fell to the ground.

Spike shook his hand slightly, ‘Wankers got tough skin.’ He thought to himself. Spike knew he wasn’t as strong as he once was, but after 120 years of fighting slayers, rival demons, and angry mobs even without the demons strength he’s a fine specimen of human fitness, above the level of any average Olympic athlete.

The hulking man-monster stood up, wiping the blood away from his mouth.

“Gonna enjoy breaking you, stick man.” Killer Croc snarled.

Spike rolled his eyes, “No wonder Buffy doesn’t take bad guys seriously anymore.” He speaks calmly as Killer Croc charges.

Spike side steps Killer Croc and spins hitting Killer Croc in the back of the head sending him once again down to the ground. Most people don’t think that Spike’s trained in any fighting style, that he only learned what he learned in bar fights and a demons natural instincts.

You don’t kill two slayers on bar fighting skills and you don’t travel the world without learning a few things before eating your sensei.

Killer Croc jumped up and charged Spike again. Spike side stepped him once more something Killer Croc was expecting, but it was a fake and Spike went the other direction, kneeing him in the groin. He then landed a solid elbow on the back of Croc’s neck, before spinning around and slamming Croc’s head into the ground repeatedly. He flipped Croc over and started to pummel the metahuman in the face. His punches fast and rigorous, hitting their marks before he could respond.

Croc finally bucked Spike off of him and sent him flying towards the docks. Spike tucked and rolled roughly before springing himself up. He was about to charge Killer Croc, just before he spoke up.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Stick man?” Killer Croc said as he winced to stand up.

Spike pretended to think about it, “Let’s see…did I forget to kick your ass? Nope? Well then, I’m right as rain.” Spike said before he advance.

“How about the boy at the bottom of the lake.” Killer Croc smirked when he saw Spike halt his steps.

“Thought so.” Was the last thing Killer Croc said before running in the other direction.

Spike took a step forward to chase him, but stopped and looked back at the lake with fear and confusion in his eyes. He looked back towards the directions of the missing villain, and once again back towards the lake.

It was no contest to Spike; he knew what he had to do.

Spike turned towards the water and ran towards it diving in.

The first thing spike thought as water engulfed him was ‘Bloody buggering hell it’s cold!’ The second thing he thought was, ‘I can’t let this person’s death be on my hands.’ He briefly wondered why it mattered so much to him, and why he was leaping off like some hero.

‘Is this what William would be after seeing all that I’ve seen. Would his poofy idealistic nature take a turn for changing the world himself? If William weren’t so damn weak, would he have jumped into an ice-cold lake to save some wanker he didn’t know?’

Spike continued swimming downward, he could see the car at the bottom of the lake, with the guy he kicked in chest trapped inside. As Spike got closer he realized who it was, Nightwing the original Robin. Which means…

‘I threw Batman into a bloody wall. Well that’s…just…great.’ He thought as he reached the car.

The metal was twisted in front of Nightwing. Spike tried his best to pull the metal apart, but even with Vampire strength, the fused metal would have been too strong. Spike looked at his hands for a moment and then at the metal stopping him from meeting his goal. Spike concentrated as hard as he could and put his hands on the metal, when they phased through he smiled in relief. He put his arms around Nightwing and hoped to hell this would work. Spike pulled on Nightwing and pulled him through the metal like moving through solid objects was a normal everyday thing. Spike pulled Nightwing up and began to swim to the surface.

His head popped out of the water and he began to gasp for breath, he could see his breath clearly as his teeth began to chatter. Spike pulled himself and Nightwing out of the water and laid him on the dock.

‘Shit! He’s not breathing.’ Spike looked down at his hands as he came to a harsh realization. A hundred and twenty years of living and the only thing he could was take life away. He had no idea how to perform CPR. He had no idea how to save someone.

Warehouse district, other side of the district…
Batman was driving the batmobile down the streets, keeping his eyes open for the possibly resurrected vampire. Everything was quiet, not much crime tonight, which was unusual, but it was still early.

Suddenly the batmobiles computer flipped with the panicked voice of Oracle practically screaming.

“Batman!”

“What’s wrong!” Batman’s voice replied sharply. He’s doesn’t hear Barbara like this unless it involves…

“It’s Nightwing!.”

‘Dick!’ Batman’s face belied his emotions as it always does and forced his voice to stay calm. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I was talking to him and then I heard an explosion. The com link was still active and I tried to reach him, but then it just went out. Batman…it sounded like someone destroyed it. I heard it crunch before it went out.”

“Oracle, where was he!” His voice stern and commanding, the voice he uses on his ‘children’ when he needs them to listen, the voice that they always listen to.

“Exact opposite direction, boss.” Her voice was cool and calm after hearing Bruce’s commanding voice.

The tires on the batmobile screeched as Batman sharply turned it and he put the petal to the metal as he drove down the road. His thoughts turned to Jason like they always did when these situations happen. The son he lost, the son he couldn’t save. ‘Not Dick…I can’t let him die. Ever.’ Batman’s voice in his mind stern, as if commanding himself.

“I will not fail you, son.” His words quiet as he drove faster, forgetting that the link was still on. Oracle heard his soft words, worry etched on her face, but hope in her heart.

The Batmobile zoomed down the street, dust and random bits of garbage people have thrown out their window whirling around the vehicle as it goes down the road.

Batman quickly slammed his foot on the break as the saw the site before him. In the middle of the road was a discarded missile launcher and over near the docks was Spike! Pummeling Killer Croc.

Batman opened up the roof and leaped out of the car running towards the two fighters. He saw Croc buck Spike off of him, but Spike just rolled and sprung up to his feet.

‘He’s good.’ Batman observed, as he got closer.

Killer Croc said something to Spike that Batman couldn’t hear and then took off in a different direction. Batman’s first instinct was to chase after Croc, just like Spike’s, but just like him he stopped.

He kept his eyes on the former vampire wondering what the cause of indecision was about, and to his wonderment Spike took off towards the lake and dove into the water.

‘Is he crazy? It’s freezing!’ He thought to himself as he got closer, never stopping his stride.

As he got close to the Missile launcher he noticed something next to it.

Batman bent down to inspect what it was. It was Nightwing's smashed com link.

Batman sharply looked towards the lake and fear began to sink into the man who causes fear.

“Nightwing.” His words were but a whisper before he got up and sprinted towards the water. He was about ten feet away when he saw Spike pop out of the water, bringing his son with him. He ran and watched as Spike placed his son on the dock, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

As Batman got there Spike looked up with sad and burdened blue eyes.

“I don’t know CPR.” He croaked.

Batman quickly understood and began to perform CPR on his son.

‘One, Two, three, breath.’ He counted in his head has he pumped his hands over Nightwings chest. He holds Dick’s nose and tries to force air into his lungs.

One, two, three – he tries again

One, Two, three, he forces air into him again

“Dammnit Nightwing, breathe!” He said one last time before pumping his hands and forcing air down his son’s throat. As he pulled up he saw Nightwing spit up water and take huge gasps of air.

‘Thank God.’ Batman said in his mind, his face still betraying his emotions, it was stoic as usual.

Batman looked up and around, searching for Spike, but he was nowhere to be seen. He looked at the spot next to Nightwing where Spike was before, his eyes focusing on the spot.

Batman looked away from the spot and gathered Dick into his arms taking him over to the Batmobile, and gently placing him inside it. He got in and turned the computer back on.

“Oracle, we’re coming home.”

“How is he?” Her voice quiet.

“He’s burned a little on the left side of his body and almost drowned. Spike pulled him out of the water.” Batman started the car and began the drive to the batcave.

“Spike?” Her voice questioning.

“Yes, Spike. I want you to start researching everything you can about his death. We’ll be home soon.” His tone was no nonsense as pre usual.

“Sure thing, Bo-” He cut off the computer and chose to drive in silence, occasionally glancing at his son, and not for the first time, regretting bringing him into this life.

Spike watched as the Batmobile drove away, a spot on the middle of the dock seemed to shimmer and he appeared, never actually leaving Nightwing’s side as his Batman preformed CPR.

Spike sighed and looked down then up at the illuminated city.

“Long bloody night.”

TBC…

Bruce places his mask on its holder inside the vault. He went back on his patrol after dropping Dick off at the mansion, letting the caring hands of Alfred and Leslie show his son the compassion and medical care he needs. Bruce closes his eyes briefly as he thought about the injuries Dick took on. Bruce knew of course that Dick’s had worse than the small burns he acquired before the Nightbird was submerged in the icy water. The burns were the least of Bruce’s worries.

Bruce emerged out of the vault and into the empty batcave. Barbara was up in Dick’s old room by his side while Alfred and Leslie took care of him. They’ve yet to update him on his condition beyond the small amount of first-degree burns he has on his left side. From what Alfred told him, the burns were minor and wouldn’t scar. All Bruce had to do to know his son’s current condition was go up the stairs and into the house and see.

Bruce strode over to the Batcave's computer, determined to pick up Oracle’s research before she went to Dick’s side. His eyes began to shift back and forth quickly as he read and absorbed the details written by the Justice league.

Dick Grayson’s room at the mansion…

Dick Grayson was shivering almost violently as he lay in his old bed; covers surrounded him in attempt to keep him warm. He was conscious but his eyes weren’t lucid at all. The young wheelchair bound redhead sitting by his bed looked at him with worry clear in her blue eyes.

Dick tried to shove the covers off him, but Barbara forced them back up.

“We need to keep you warm, Dick.” Barbara told him a bit forcefully.

“Don’t need them.” His words were slightly slurred.

Barbara sighed, “So damn stubborn.”

“Aren’t you all, Miss Barbara?” Alfred said with a warm smile from the doorway, a tray with two cups of tea sitting on it, steam rising from the cups.

Barbara couldn’t help but return his smile as he walked towards her.

“Are you implying something, Alfred?” Barbara replied with a mischievous glint in her eyes, accepting the offer of tea with a quiet “Thank you”.

“Oh why heavens no! I would never do such a thing.” Alfred said as he sat the tray down.

“How’s our patient?” The batfamily's butler and confidant inquired.

Barbara’s face lost its smile and she returned her eyes to Dick.

“The same.” She answered back.

Alfred placed a comforting hand on Babs’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.

“Master Dick will be just fine by morning, Miss Barbara. He is a tough one.”

“Tough or not I don’t like to see him like this.”

Alfred’s face grew grim. “Nor do I, Miss Barbara. Nor do I.”

Batcave…

Bruce Wayne continued to read the report and it’s details.

An ancient evil going by the name of “The First Evil.” Was attempting to raise an army of Turok-han, also known as the vampires that vampires fear. Buffy Anne Summers at the time one of only two Slayers had received a gift from Liam O’Conner, also known as Angelus before he received his soul, and known as Angel now with his soul. Note: He has now taken over the L.A. Branch of Wolfram and hart, the inter-dimensional demonic law firm, and maybe considered a threat. Buffy Anne Summers received the Puragtio de pressinus –

Bruce sat back as he read the words. ‘Purgatio de pessinus?’

“The Cleansing of evil?” Bruce Wayne whispered to himself, before sitting forward again to continue reading.

-An ancient holy weapon that channels the wearer’s soul into a beam of pure light, destroying everything and anything it considers evil in its path. The following day, Buffy Anne Summers led a small army of potential Slayers, Civilians, and one vampire, a Spike aka William the bloody who at the time also had a soul, directly into the Hellmouth to wage war with the army. During the battle Spike wore the Purgatio de Pressinus, and he began to channel his human soul. A beam of light erupted from his chest and annihilated the turok-han army. It went on to destroy the Hellmouth, although Spike himself had a chance to escape before the Hellmouth was destroyed, he decided to stay and finish it off completely. The crystal it’s self also destroyed Spike, presumably because of the vampire demon residing in his body.

- Superman

A picture of Spike from 1979 was seen attaching the page. He had torn jeans, and frosted bleach blond hair; his shirt was ripped and had several pins going through it. He wore a sneer on his face just as well as the duster around his shoulders.

Bruce sat back once again, “Hello Alfred.” He stated calmly.

We pull back to see Alfred has been standing right behind Bruce Wayne, staring at the picture. The tray that he carried upstairs was in his hand, the other cup of now not so steaming hot tea was on it.

“Good evening Master Bruce. I brought you some tea.” Alfred’s friendly British accent wafted through the batcave.

“Thank you, Alfred.” Bruce’s voice far away as he took the cup into his hands, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Is this the chap who pulled young Master Dick out of the lake?” Alfred asked.

“Yes.” Came Bruce’s short reply.

“Hmm I’ll have to remember to give him a hot cuppa if we ever meet.” Alfred thought out loud.

Bruce didn’t say anything to that, but only drank from his cup. He soon rose out of his chair.

“I’m going to retire for the evening, goodnight Alfred.” Bruce said without turning around and headed for the house.

“Are you going to stop by Master Dick’s room? He’s ill you know, Hypothermia. He’ll be better by morning of course it’s only a moderate case…but it would be good of you to be there.” Alfred attentively added the last part.

“No I don’t think so Alfred. He has Barbara by his side, and he’ll be fine.” With that Bruce continued on.

“Of course he’ll be fine, sir!” Alfred’s voice elevated slightly.

“But I must ask of you, Master Bruce. Do you think I would not have a hand in raising a good man?” Alfred continued on.

Bruce turned around and narrowed his eyes in suspicion at Alfred.

“I’d say that that you’d make sure they were good, even if they didn’t believe it to be true.” Bruce replied almost briskly, wondering what Alfred was getting at.

Alfred walked over to Bruce and laid a hand on his shoulder, “Then I say, where would a good man be when his son has taken ill.” Alfred squared his shoulders and looked Bruce right in the eyes.

Bruce was amazed at the fact that Alfred could still make him feel like the little boy who would take cookies out of the cookie jar when he thought Alfred wasn’t watching. Bruce soon came to realize that Alfred was always watching. He then thought of times when he was sick and Alfred was always there by his bedside, reading him stories going above the call and duty of Butler.

“He’d be with his son.” Came Bruce’s quiet reply.

“He would, wouldn’t he?” Alfred replied with a bit of a smile.

Bruce nodded to Alfred, “Goodnight Alfred.”

Alfred nodded back and watched Bruce disappear into the house.

“Goodnight, son.” Alfred quietly said and turned to clean the area up.

“Good Lord I taught them all better house keeping skills then this.” He reprehended them in his own company as he put things in order.

Master Dick’s old room…

Bruce entered the room, seeing his son shaking on the bed and Barbara lovingly tending to him. Her eyes shot up when he entered.

“I thought you’d be Tim or Cass.”

“They’ll be in later, their patrols are running a bit late. Run in with some bank robbers.” Bruce informed her.

Barbara nodded and returned her attention to Dick.

Bruce walked over to the other side of the bed and pulled up a chair.

Barbara looked over at him curiously.

“Do you want me to leave?” She asked.

Bruce shook his head and then formed one of his classic half smiles. “Even if I did, would you?”

Barbara smiled back, “No, I wouldn’t.”

Bruce just nodded and sat down in his chair, taking his seat by his son’s side.

A dark neighborhood in Gotham…

The neighborhood seemed dank and desolate, the streets and buildings covered in grime, some of the buildings were empty, deserted with boarded up doors and windows. Random bits of trash were strung out amongst the street; graffiti of random gangs were sprayed on everything, street signs, dumpsters and even a few of the parked cars.

Now a Gotham street was not the place to be at night alone, especially if you’re a pretty girl. Granted better to be in Gotham at night then Bludhaven, but being alone in one city of the damned was just bad as being alone in another.

Just like tonight as a lone woman was walking down a Gotham street, she’s about five foot four with long and wavy chestnut brown hair, a single purple streak beautifully blended in on the right side of her head. She wore tight hip hugger jeans and a black tank top, with a black leather purse hanging loosely from her hands.

Kelly Sanders was no stranger to the streets of Gotham, despite her aura of casual ignorance of her grimy surroundings, she was raised in Gotham her whole life and even owns a bar in Bludhaven of all places. She’s taken several self-defense classes only accenting what she’s learned on the streets and from her big brothers. So when a thug jumped out in front of her, she wasn’t too worried, it was the other four guys that worried her.

“Well aren’t you a cute little thing?” Thug number one said with a sneer.

Kelly took a defensive stance, “Wish I could say the same thing, although I’m sure “little thing” is accurate enough.” The other four thugs started laughing.

“Damn Ricky you going to let this slut talk about you like that?” Thug number 2 asked as he chuckled.

Thug number one (Ricky) growled and swung at Kelly, only to miss when she dodged it. She returned his punch with a swift kick to the groin and a small jab to his throat.

Ricky coughed and stumbled back holding his groin.

“Bitch.” He snarled as good as any demon. He looked up at his friends, “Grab her.”

Two of the thugs grabbed Kelly from behind and held her down, she instantly began to struggle but their grips were two strong.

“And it was just getting good.” Came a cockney accent from the shadows of the alleyway.

All the thugs and Kelly turned to where they thought the voice came from only to see nothing but darkness.

“Pitiful really.” The voice continued on around them seemingly to be everywhere and nowhere.

“No one like’s a challenge anymore, always going for the easy target. Ganging up on an unarmed girl. Pathetic.” The voice kept moving around them.

“Who are you? Show yourself!” Ricky yelled as he looked around the shadows.

“Cowards.” The voice continued on. “You never go after the easy target, you go after the one you might not beat. So when you do-”

Spike phases through the wall of an abandoned building and clobbers Ricky in the face, “-you know you accomplished something!”

The two thugs let go of Kelly and began charging towards Spike. Spike drops down as they speedily approach sweeping their legs out from beneath them. Both of the thugs fly into the brownstone steps of the nearby apartment complex.

Another thug comes running up behind Spike with a chain in his hand wilding swinging. Spike turns around and grabs the chain out of the thug’s hand, and then twists his arm behind him in an arm lock. He applies more pressure to the thugs arm, causing him to scream in protest and pain, while he wraps the chain around his knuckles. Spike then rears back and slams his chained wrapped fist into the thugs twisted elbow, causing it to snap. Spike let’s the thug drop to the ground screaming in pain as tears stream down his face.

The last thug starts running towards Spike yelling and screaming like a banshee as he raises a lead pipe in the air. He swings the pipe wildly at Spike, but Spike just grabs it and head butts the thug. With the pipe in his hand Spike steps back and spin kicks the thug in the face. The thug spins in a 360-degree circle spitting out two teeth and a stream of blood before landing on the ground unconscious.

Ricky the first thug rose from the ground, his hand cupping his already bruising face.

“Who are you!” He yelled at Spike.

Spike thought about it for a moment, unsure of how to answer.

Spike shrugged, “Hoping to find out, mate.” He said before spinning the lead pipe in his hand and bashing the thug in the head.

Spike just dropped the lead pipe and looked around. The thugs were laid out groaning as they held their broken bones. Spike smirked a satisfied smirk, before walking on down the grimy street.

Kelly shakily picked up her purse and looked around. She’s never been so close to something bad happening, oh she’s been robbed before and mugged, but she had a feeling that these thugs weren’t going to stop at that. But then this stranger with golden white hair, sharp cheek bones, and lively blue eyes came to her rescue.

Kelly nervously tucked her hair behind her ear as she watched the now silent figure walk away.

“Thank you.” She called out.

“Whatever.” Spike replied as he gave a little bit of a wave of his hand, as to indicate that he acknowledge her gratitude.

Kelly frowned in frustration at his attitude, but unwilling to let it go, the need to return a favor for a favor pushed her on.

“Do you have a place to stay?” Kelly asked.

Spike turned around and leered at her slightly with a raised eyebrow.

It took a couple seconds for her to get what his look was implying before she blushed and backtracked.

“I- I have a couch is all and you're in wet clothes, and you know I’m just trying to be polite, you perv.”

Spike smirked at her and shook his head, he looked around and the truth was, where was he going to go? He’s been back for two hours and that’s a little hard for him to believe, and ever since he’s been back it’s been non-stop fighting. A place to rest sounds great to him right about now.

“Sure, pet. I could use a place to stay for the night.”

Kelly smiled and nodded her head in the opposite direction he’s walking.

Spike walked over to her and they started off towards her apartment complex.

“So what’s your name, Mr. Hero man?”

Spike had to think about it; once again the question that’s been plaguing him tonight has come back in a different form. Was he Spike, William, or none of the above?

“It shouldn’t be that hard of a question really.” Kelly said amused.

Spike shook himself out of his line of thinking and stared at the young girl by his side. He then said the first thing that popped out his mind.

“Randy. My name’s Randy.”

“Kelly.” She replied and extended her hand.

Spike/Randy stared down at it for a moment, an indescribable look on his face. He slowly took the hand into his own and began to shake.

Kelly smiled at him, “Come on, Randy. Let’s go home.”

Tbc…