Envisaged
Chapter 9 of
“The Evolution of Spike”
By Chani
“Go to hell, Spike.”
The words were said calmly, but the blonde vampire found himself on the ground, holding his nose yet again. At least, for once, she hadn’t broken it. Despite that, it still hurt like hell. That’s what he got for trying to help the slayer. He should’ve learned that by now. However, he wasn’t doing this for her…or for himself. This was about something—someone—more important. “Luv, you don’t understand how she feels. She’s scared—”
She dragged him up from the ground and shook him. “Which part of ‘stay out of my life’ don’t you understand?? And that goes double for my sister.”
He’d had enough of her crap. “Niblet came to me, slayer. No one else’ll listen to her.” His eyes pleaded with her to listen. “I haven’t done right by her either, but no more. She’s hurtin’ and scared.”
“I’m sure she was…when she came to see you. And who could blame her?” Her voice was as cold as her eyes. “Anyone would be afraid around an evil, soulless thing.”
That hurt, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of
seeing it. “You wanna believe it’s me
she’s scared of, go ahead and try to convince yourself. I
guess it’s easier than facin’ the fact that her fear comes from livin’ with an
out of control witch.”
She tackled him as
he was finishing his last sentence, giving him a hard right to the jaw. “Willow’s a good person!! You have no right—”
“I never said she
wasn’t!” he yelled, trying to hold her hands still. “But right now, she’s dangerous.
Dawn told me what happened the other night…how she had to walk home by
herself from the other side of town.” He groaned when she got one hand away and
struck him in the ribs, but he grabbed it quickly to stop another attack. “She coulda been hurt, slayer. A big nasty could’ve gotten her, or
something worse. All because Red
couldn’t—”
“She couldn’t help
it! She’s addicted to magick! Drawn to it against her will. I have to help her…help her say ‘no’ to it.”
She looked like a trapped animal. No
rhyme or reason. Just desperation. It made him wonder if she was talking about
the witch—or herself. “She’d never hurt
Dawn intentionally. She’s my best
friend! She and Xander are all I’ve
got…”
Spike felt the
fight drain out of him, and all he wanted to do was get away from her. “Yeah, I guess that is how you’d see it.” He pushed her off of him, then scrambled up and
walked away without saying a word.
“Where’re you going? We’re not done with this yet and—”
“If you aren’t
gonna listen, there’s no point in me wastin’ my breath.”
He could feel her
eyes on his back as he disappeared into the darkness. Staring daggers at him, no doubt. She didn’t like being walked away from, especially by the vampire
who was supposed to be her willing slave.
Well, that was just
too damned bad.
What a night.
Every star in the
sky seemed to be shining brighter than usual through the clear sky. The mixture of the starlight with the light
from the full moon gave everything a beautiful silvery glow. The waves, which were unnaturally gentle,
reflected the glow and made it even brighter outside. It was one of those rare nights that people could see in the dark
with absolutely no artificial light at all.
Spike closed his
eyes, letting the cool ocean breeze wash over him. The tension he felt earlier eased. This was one of the few places where he could relax and unwind. The beach was always deserted this time of
the night, mainly because most of the people in Sunnydale knew better than to
wander around at two o’clock in the morning.
Lying back on the
sand, he sighed. There were nights when
he came here and thought about staying to watch the sun rise, usually when
things were going particularly bad.
Death would be a simple solution to the misery he seemed destined to
endure. At least that’s what he would
think at the time, until something—some part of him that refused to give
up—made him get up and seek refuge from the approaching light. Sometimes he wondered if it was some part of
William left in him that did it, gave him the incentive to save himself. To survive.
But how could that be possible when William had been such a spineless
wimp? There could be no answer to that
question until he got the answer to another one—a much more difficult one.
He’d argued the
point with himself numerous times.
Which one took more strength?
Ending it all…or trudging along, even when the pain was unbearable? Was it a sign of weakness to give up a fight
that couldn’t be won? Or was the real
failing giving up? He didn’t know, and
he wasn’t sure he ever would.
A high-pitched
noise rung in his ears, drowning out his thoughts. He sat up, ready to fight whatever he had to, but there was nothing
there. Except that sound. A sound he recognized. Laughing.
And all of a
sudden, there she was. The slayer. He hadn’t sensed her at all, which disturbed
him. Usually he could feel her presence
like most people felt cold weather in the air.
Yet there she was…dressed in black…all black, her hair pulled back tight
on her head. Her hair was shorter, a
lot shorter. Head thrown back, laughing
earnestly…at him.
“Slayer, what the
bleeding hell are you—” He stopped abruptly when he was suddenly surrounded. By her.
They were all her.
Fifteen, twenty, he wasn’t sure.
All he knew was there was too many of them and they were all laughing,
moving toward him.
Not one of them had
the warm eyes of the girl he had fallen for.
Instead, they were cold.
Hard.
They were on him
before he knew it, holding him down.
The light grew dim…the soft silvery light he had gone there to
enjoy. They were taking it, absorbing
it. He struggled against them, but
there were too many of them. Too many
slayers. Too many Buffys. Stealing everything he needed. Everything he wanted. Raw unadulterated terror filled him when
looked up at the sky and realized they were taking the stars, the moon. Absorbing them, just like the light.
He screamed,
begging her—them—to stop. Stop taking
his light. But they wouldn’t
listen. They were darker. Cruel.
Even with all the light they had stolen. His light.
He screamed
again. At their fingers. Tearing at him. Tearing his clothes.
Quickly, mercilessly. When the
clothes were gone, he felt his skin rip under their fingers. They were ripping it right off of him, blood
flowing everywhere, staining the white sand beneath him. The pain was unbearable. He couldn’t fight them, couldn’t defend
himself. His eyes rose to the sky, but
it was completely black now. Nothing
left. At all. They had stolen it all.
Sorrow and grief
took him, tears started flowing against his will. They just laughed harder.
He looked at one of them, begging to know why she was doing this. To someone who loved her. She spat on him…in his face. Her hand went to his chest, nails digging
into what little skin was left. With
one quick motion, she managed to accomplish her purpose, not caring about the
crunching of the bones under her fingers.
Not caring what she had done to him.
The triumph in her eyes was undeniable.
She smiled and held it in front of him.
Her trophy.
His heart.
How he was still
able to watch, he didn’t know, but he wished out loud that he couldn’t. The worst part was that he was incapable of
turning away, even when she tore into it with her teeth.
“No!” he
screamed. His chest heaving, he found
himself sitting up in his bed. It was a
dream. Just a dream. His head dropped into his hand. He was soaked in sweat. Cold sweat.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had ever sweated. Had it even happened since he’d been a
vampire?
“God, observant
much?”
His head jerked up
and around at the sound of her voice, cringing. Definitely not the person he wanted to see at that moment,
especially not sitting on the bed with him.
The Slayer.