Journey to Destiny - Prologue
Dec. 3rd, 2003 12:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
psubratThis fic is about Spike's journey in the Resetverse. It's a prequel of sorts to "New Beginnings" but it also occurs in time with it. Basically, it fills in the gaps that "Reset" and "New Beginnings" leaves out.
Author: PSUbrat
Rating: PG-13 Some language and violence
Disclaimer and spoiler warning: All characters, except Geoffrey, Garrick and Bronwyn, belong to Joss Whedon and whomever else he sells them to...I’m just borrowing them for a while. Also, the character of Aroghetto Baldassare is the creation of Ebony Silvers; I’m just borrowing him too. This story is based upon the alternate universe I created in Reset. Some dialogue and scenes borrowed from "Seeing Red", written by Steven DeKnight, "Villains" by Marti Noxon and "Grave" written by David Fury.
Summary: Feeling guilt and remorse for trying to force himself on Buffy, Spike rushes off to Africa in search of his soul...
Timeframe: Immediately following Spike’s scene with Clem in "Seeing Red"
Spike sat on his motorcycle and looked down into the valley at the lights of Sunnydale. Thoughts of what had happened at Buffy’s house, specifically in the bathroom, plagued his mind. Flashes of him begging her to love him and to let him love her, made him want to scream out into the night. How could he have done that to her, to the woman he supposedly loved more than unlife itself? Anger began to build in the pit of his stomach. He was a vampire, damnit! He shouldn’t be feeling this way, struggling with...what exactly was it? Guilt? Now why should an evil, soulless thing such as himself, have feelings of guilt? He was still evil and soulless, right? Immediately he began an internal checklist. Thirst for blood, check. Fangs and bumps, check. Feelings of joy and contentment at thoughts of chaos and mayhem, check. So all that made him a monster; at least in theory, was still there. Then why did he feel this way?
Returning his attention back to the lights of the town down below, he took one last drag off his cigarette and narrowed his eyes. "Get nice and comfy, Slayer. I'll be back. And when I do...things are gonna change." He had no idea of how they would change, but they would definitely change. They had to. He just couldn’t go on like this, caught in between. Not a man and not a monster. It was going to end. Tossing his cigarette to the ground and gunning the engine, he took off into the night, destination, Sunnydale Airport.
The ride to the airport had been silent, except for the constant hum of the bike’s engine. It had been him, the night and his thoughts, which had turned out to not be his most brilliant idea. It had all been enough to drive him batty. He hated himself, more than he could say or wanted to admit. By the time he pulled the bike into a parking space, he was ready to find a sharp piece of wood and end his own existence. That’s when he realized that something was definitely wrong with him. He wished to hell he knew what it was so that he could stop it.
It was good that the arrangements for his flight had been made earlier, before he had totally lost his mind. He and Clem had called in a few favors from their poker buddies using the story that he had tried to kill the Slayer’s sister and now needed to get out of town and as far away as possible, quickly. The tale had worked, the demon community none the wiser as to his true reason for going to Africa.
As he entered the terminal, he looked around for Sirius, the shape-shifting demon who could take human form. By day Sirius was a Nantreler demon and by night he was a baggage handler at the Sunnydale Airport. Bloody brilliant!
He spotted the demon standing by the doors to the tarmac, its eyes darting this way and that, probably scanning the room looking for him. Putting on his best menacing face, he strode towards Sirius, trying to swagger as he did in the old days after a particularly satisfying kill. That had gotten the demon’s attention. Good.
"You Spike?" Sirius asked, folding his arms across his chest and looking Spike over, a bit frightened at the prospect of being in the company of William the Bloody.
"That’s right. You Sirius?"
"Yep."
"Right then. Let’s get moving, shall we? Wouldn’t want to miss my flight; especially with the Slayer hot on my trail and all."
"Did you really try to kill her kid sister?"
"What can I say?" Spike grinned wickedly. "I was hungry."
Sirius laughed and clapped him on the back. "Man, you are so dead if she catches you. Follow me," he stated, tilting his head towards the door. "I’ve got your transportation all lined up."
Once they reached the hanger bay, Spike let out a low whistle at the site of his transportation, a sleek Gulf Stream jet. "Nice."
"Borrowed it from my brother-in-law, Aroghetto Baldassare. He’s a vampire too, pretty wealthy one in New Orleans, master or something like that. Anyway, he assured me the pilot was trustworthy and could take you anywhere you wanted in the world."
"Thanks mate."
"Sure thing," Sirius replied as he opened the door to the jet. "Good luck to you."
Spike nodded and climbed aboard the plane. Once inside, he found his way to a plush chair and sat down, the weight of his actions finally crashing down on him. He closed his eyes and gripped the arms of the chair to keep from sobbing. Suddenly the sound of the engines coming to life filled his ears. It sounded more like a purr than a roar, even with his sensitive hearing.
"Mr. Spike?" The pilot asked as he walked into the cabin.
"That’d be me," he answered, eyes still closed.
"I’m Rayford, your pilot. I’ve been briefed on your special circumstances. There are just a few things I need to tell you before we proceed. First, you don’t have to worry about the windows. No need to pull the shades or worry about falling asleep with them open. They have been specially treated so that you won’t be burned when the sun comes out. Second, fridge is fully stocked with blood, once I have this bird on autopilot, I can come back and warm you up a cup or two. You look like you could use some."
Nice, he could almost get used to this kind of life style. "Thanks mate, but no need for you to do that. Can do it myself. Thanks for the info on the windows though. Was a bit worried that I might be a pile of ash before we reach our destination."
"We’ll have to refuel at some point but for your convenience, I have it worked out to be in Africa when night falls." Rayford turned and began to make his way towards the cockpit. "I’ll contact the tower and we’ll be on our way in just a few minutes, sir."
"Great," Spike replied, closing his eyes again.
The ride had been smooth and Spike had been grateful for the company that Ray provided once he turned on the autopilot. They had talked about anything and everything so that he couldn’t dwell on the things he was running from. After a few hours, Ray left the cabin to let him get some sleep, but truth be told, none was to be had. Voices in his head screamed out at him as the pictures of what he had done in the bathroom flashed through his mind again and again. It was too bad the windows were tinted.
True to his word, Ray put the plane down in Africa exactly at nightfall. Spike thanked him for his help and then disembarked. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he set off towards the small village that Clem had given him directions for, both hope and self-loathing filling him at the same time.
On the outskirts of the village was a hostel. It was somewhat dilapidated, the paint fading from too many hours in the bright sun, but he decided to get a room before continuing. At the front desk, he picked up a key. After having to threaten the desk clerk with death, he got directions to the demon’s lair and quickly went to his room to change. He decided to leave his belongings in the closet. He didn’t have anything of value, just a few shirts, so he figured if anyone wanted his things, they were more than welcome to have them, especially since he may not make it back.
Taking a deep breath, he walked out into the night and started on his journey.
The moon was full and cast brilliant white light down on the land below, helping Spike to see exactly where it was he was going. Not that he really needed the light since he had his vampiric sight, but it didn’t hurt, just in case. The sound of drums and pipe music reached his ears as he entered the village. If his heart could beat, it definitely would have broken his chest by this point. The anticipation of what was to come, what he would be facing in the next few hours was starting to overwhelm him. It wasn’t going to be easy, he knew that, but this had to be done. Things had to change.
He walked through the village, between grass huts, his stride determined and purposeful. He passed women sitting around a fire talking while other villagers milled in the background, eyes on him. Dozens of pairs of eyes on him, watching him; knowing where he was going, what he was doing. He could tell they knew. It wasn’t every night that a vampire walked around these parts in search of a demon. Didn’t matter though... They didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered right now was getting to that demon and changing everything.
The man from the front desk of the hostel caught up with him and began speaking to him, his voice urgent and pleading.
"Not asking for permission, mate," Spike replied indifferently as he continued to walk, more determined than before, despite the pleas from the clerk becoming more urgent.
Spike finally slowed his pace after entering the cave. The interior of the cave was pitch black so he flicked on his lighter. Using the soft light of the flame, he scanned the walls, taking notice of the paintings and images that adorned them. Most of them depicted peoples’ faces in pain; red paint splattered everywhere signifying blood, lots of blood. It was ghastly. He could feel his resolve soften at the sight of them. As he stopped to consider a separate painting of a black figure holding out an arm with blood dripping from it, a strong breeze blew through the cave, extinguishing his flame.
Suddenly, a harsh voice spoke out into the darkness. "You seek me, vampire?"
Spike couldn’t make out any distinguishing characteristics of the demon before him, except for the glowing eyes. "You do the finger paintings?" He snarked, trying desperately to hide the fact that he had become nervous. "Nice work."
"Answer me."
Spike rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, I seek you." This thing was going to be one annoying git, he could tell already.
"Something about a woman. The Slayer."
"Thinks she’s better than me," he stated, nodding his head as anger began to boil inside of him again. "Ever since I got this bleeding chip in my head, things ain’t been right. Everything’s gone to hell."
"And you want me to return your soul?"
"Yeah," Spike replied, his courage returning with the anger.
The demon began to laugh evilly.
"What?" Spike demanded, barely keeping his anger in check.
"Look what she has reduced you to."
"It’s this bloody chip..."
"It’s more than your chip. You were a legendary dark warrior, and you let yourself be castrated. And you have the audacity to crawl in here and demand restoration?"
"I’m still a warrior."
"You’re a pathetic excuse for a demon!"
"Yeah?" Spike growled, taking a step forward. "I’ll show you pathetic. Give me your best shot!"
"You’d never endure the trials required to grant your request."
"Do your worst. But when I win...I want what I came here for."
The demon eyed him but said nothing in response.
"Bitch is gonna see a change."
Still glaring at Spike, the demon took a step forward. "Fine, Vampire. But you will only get what you ask for once you have completed the trials. Once you have completed one trial, the next will be that more difficult."
"Right."
"You understand then?"
"Yeah, yeah," Spike replied, somewhat eager to get on with the whole thing. "It’s not like you haven’t been clear about it, oh great mysterious one. This is a test. I don’t get what I want unless I pass said test. That about the size and shape?"
"Yes."
"And since your pad is decked out gladiator-style, and no number two pencils have been provided, I guess we’re not starting with the written."
A very large, muscular man appeared from the darkness.
"Oh, here we go then. Just me and the walking action figure. I’m venturing this would be kill-or-be-killed type of situation then?"
"To the death," the demon replied harshly.
"Right," Spike stated as he turned to face his opponent. "Here we are now. Entertain us."
The man held up his fists and smacked his arms together. Suddenly, both hands burst into flames.
"Oh, son of a bi..." Spike said, trailing off after the man punched him in the face. He sagged to his knees with the impact. Another punch and he was on his bottom, scrambling backwards. What had he gotten himself into?
After several hours, or days, Spike wasn’t sure anymore, he lifted the latest creature above his head, received its powers and threw it against the cave wall with a thunderous yell.
"Right. Now. I’ve beaten your tests. You said this was the last one. You bloody well better give me what I came here for."
The demon stood looking at Spike. "You have endured the required trials and have done well, vampire."
"Bloody right, I have!"
"But I cannot give you that which you already have."
Enraged, Spike’s hand shot out and took the demon by the throat. "You said if I beat your tests I could have whatever I bloody well wanted..." Suddenly he realized what the thing had said. He dropped it as if there was a fire in his hand.
Again, the demon stated, "I cannot give you that which you already have."
"Yeah, yeah. I get it you stupid git. So where does that leave me?"
"You have passed the tests. You may have whatever you wish."
"Anything?" Spike asked looking intently at the creature.
"Anything."
"Fine then. You know what I want. Make me what I was so Buffy can get what she deserves."
The demon walked over to Spike and put its hand on the vampire’s chest. Everything began to glow. "Bloody hell!" Spike shouted and then passed out.
Go to chapter one...
Author: PSUbrat
Rating: PG-13 Some language and violence
Disclaimer and spoiler warning: All characters, except Geoffrey, Garrick and Bronwyn, belong to Joss Whedon and whomever else he sells them to...I’m just borrowing them for a while. Also, the character of Aroghetto Baldassare is the creation of Ebony Silvers; I’m just borrowing him too. This story is based upon the alternate universe I created in Reset. Some dialogue and scenes borrowed from "Seeing Red", written by Steven DeKnight, "Villains" by Marti Noxon and "Grave" written by David Fury.
Summary: Feeling guilt and remorse for trying to force himself on Buffy, Spike rushes off to Africa in search of his soul...
Timeframe: Immediately following Spike’s scene with Clem in "Seeing Red"
Prologue
The Journey Begins
The Journey Begins
Spike sat on his motorcycle and looked down into the valley at the lights of Sunnydale. Thoughts of what had happened at Buffy’s house, specifically in the bathroom, plagued his mind. Flashes of him begging her to love him and to let him love her, made him want to scream out into the night. How could he have done that to her, to the woman he supposedly loved more than unlife itself? Anger began to build in the pit of his stomach. He was a vampire, damnit! He shouldn’t be feeling this way, struggling with...what exactly was it? Guilt? Now why should an evil, soulless thing such as himself, have feelings of guilt? He was still evil and soulless, right? Immediately he began an internal checklist. Thirst for blood, check. Fangs and bumps, check. Feelings of joy and contentment at thoughts of chaos and mayhem, check. So all that made him a monster; at least in theory, was still there. Then why did he feel this way?
Returning his attention back to the lights of the town down below, he took one last drag off his cigarette and narrowed his eyes. "Get nice and comfy, Slayer. I'll be back. And when I do...things are gonna change." He had no idea of how they would change, but they would definitely change. They had to. He just couldn’t go on like this, caught in between. Not a man and not a monster. It was going to end. Tossing his cigarette to the ground and gunning the engine, he took off into the night, destination, Sunnydale Airport.
******
The ride to the airport had been silent, except for the constant hum of the bike’s engine. It had been him, the night and his thoughts, which had turned out to not be his most brilliant idea. It had all been enough to drive him batty. He hated himself, more than he could say or wanted to admit. By the time he pulled the bike into a parking space, he was ready to find a sharp piece of wood and end his own existence. That’s when he realized that something was definitely wrong with him. He wished to hell he knew what it was so that he could stop it.
It was good that the arrangements for his flight had been made earlier, before he had totally lost his mind. He and Clem had called in a few favors from their poker buddies using the story that he had tried to kill the Slayer’s sister and now needed to get out of town and as far away as possible, quickly. The tale had worked, the demon community none the wiser as to his true reason for going to Africa.
As he entered the terminal, he looked around for Sirius, the shape-shifting demon who could take human form. By day Sirius was a Nantreler demon and by night he was a baggage handler at the Sunnydale Airport. Bloody brilliant!
He spotted the demon standing by the doors to the tarmac, its eyes darting this way and that, probably scanning the room looking for him. Putting on his best menacing face, he strode towards Sirius, trying to swagger as he did in the old days after a particularly satisfying kill. That had gotten the demon’s attention. Good.
"You Spike?" Sirius asked, folding his arms across his chest and looking Spike over, a bit frightened at the prospect of being in the company of William the Bloody.
"That’s right. You Sirius?"
"Yep."
"Right then. Let’s get moving, shall we? Wouldn’t want to miss my flight; especially with the Slayer hot on my trail and all."
"Did you really try to kill her kid sister?"
"What can I say?" Spike grinned wickedly. "I was hungry."
Sirius laughed and clapped him on the back. "Man, you are so dead if she catches you. Follow me," he stated, tilting his head towards the door. "I’ve got your transportation all lined up."
Once they reached the hanger bay, Spike let out a low whistle at the site of his transportation, a sleek Gulf Stream jet. "Nice."
"Borrowed it from my brother-in-law, Aroghetto Baldassare. He’s a vampire too, pretty wealthy one in New Orleans, master or something like that. Anyway, he assured me the pilot was trustworthy and could take you anywhere you wanted in the world."
"Thanks mate."
"Sure thing," Sirius replied as he opened the door to the jet. "Good luck to you."
Spike nodded and climbed aboard the plane. Once inside, he found his way to a plush chair and sat down, the weight of his actions finally crashing down on him. He closed his eyes and gripped the arms of the chair to keep from sobbing. Suddenly the sound of the engines coming to life filled his ears. It sounded more like a purr than a roar, even with his sensitive hearing.
"Mr. Spike?" The pilot asked as he walked into the cabin.
"That’d be me," he answered, eyes still closed.
"I’m Rayford, your pilot. I’ve been briefed on your special circumstances. There are just a few things I need to tell you before we proceed. First, you don’t have to worry about the windows. No need to pull the shades or worry about falling asleep with them open. They have been specially treated so that you won’t be burned when the sun comes out. Second, fridge is fully stocked with blood, once I have this bird on autopilot, I can come back and warm you up a cup or two. You look like you could use some."
Nice, he could almost get used to this kind of life style. "Thanks mate, but no need for you to do that. Can do it myself. Thanks for the info on the windows though. Was a bit worried that I might be a pile of ash before we reach our destination."
"We’ll have to refuel at some point but for your convenience, I have it worked out to be in Africa when night falls." Rayford turned and began to make his way towards the cockpit. "I’ll contact the tower and we’ll be on our way in just a few minutes, sir."
"Great," Spike replied, closing his eyes again.
******
The ride had been smooth and Spike had been grateful for the company that Ray provided once he turned on the autopilot. They had talked about anything and everything so that he couldn’t dwell on the things he was running from. After a few hours, Ray left the cabin to let him get some sleep, but truth be told, none was to be had. Voices in his head screamed out at him as the pictures of what he had done in the bathroom flashed through his mind again and again. It was too bad the windows were tinted.
True to his word, Ray put the plane down in Africa exactly at nightfall. Spike thanked him for his help and then disembarked. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he set off towards the small village that Clem had given him directions for, both hope and self-loathing filling him at the same time.
On the outskirts of the village was a hostel. It was somewhat dilapidated, the paint fading from too many hours in the bright sun, but he decided to get a room before continuing. At the front desk, he picked up a key. After having to threaten the desk clerk with death, he got directions to the demon’s lair and quickly went to his room to change. He decided to leave his belongings in the closet. He didn’t have anything of value, just a few shirts, so he figured if anyone wanted his things, they were more than welcome to have them, especially since he may not make it back.
Taking a deep breath, he walked out into the night and started on his journey.
*******
The moon was full and cast brilliant white light down on the land below, helping Spike to see exactly where it was he was going. Not that he really needed the light since he had his vampiric sight, but it didn’t hurt, just in case. The sound of drums and pipe music reached his ears as he entered the village. If his heart could beat, it definitely would have broken his chest by this point. The anticipation of what was to come, what he would be facing in the next few hours was starting to overwhelm him. It wasn’t going to be easy, he knew that, but this had to be done. Things had to change.
He walked through the village, between grass huts, his stride determined and purposeful. He passed women sitting around a fire talking while other villagers milled in the background, eyes on him. Dozens of pairs of eyes on him, watching him; knowing where he was going, what he was doing. He could tell they knew. It wasn’t every night that a vampire walked around these parts in search of a demon. Didn’t matter though... They didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered right now was getting to that demon and changing everything.
The man from the front desk of the hostel caught up with him and began speaking to him, his voice urgent and pleading.
"Not asking for permission, mate," Spike replied indifferently as he continued to walk, more determined than before, despite the pleas from the clerk becoming more urgent.
Spike finally slowed his pace after entering the cave. The interior of the cave was pitch black so he flicked on his lighter. Using the soft light of the flame, he scanned the walls, taking notice of the paintings and images that adorned them. Most of them depicted peoples’ faces in pain; red paint splattered everywhere signifying blood, lots of blood. It was ghastly. He could feel his resolve soften at the sight of them. As he stopped to consider a separate painting of a black figure holding out an arm with blood dripping from it, a strong breeze blew through the cave, extinguishing his flame.
Suddenly, a harsh voice spoke out into the darkness. "You seek me, vampire?"
Spike couldn’t make out any distinguishing characteristics of the demon before him, except for the glowing eyes. "You do the finger paintings?" He snarked, trying desperately to hide the fact that he had become nervous. "Nice work."
"Answer me."
Spike rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, I seek you." This thing was going to be one annoying git, he could tell already.
"Something about a woman. The Slayer."
"Thinks she’s better than me," he stated, nodding his head as anger began to boil inside of him again. "Ever since I got this bleeding chip in my head, things ain’t been right. Everything’s gone to hell."
"And you want me to return your soul?"
"Yeah," Spike replied, his courage returning with the anger.
The demon began to laugh evilly.
"What?" Spike demanded, barely keeping his anger in check.
"Look what she has reduced you to."
"It’s this bloody chip..."
"It’s more than your chip. You were a legendary dark warrior, and you let yourself be castrated. And you have the audacity to crawl in here and demand restoration?"
"I’m still a warrior."
"You’re a pathetic excuse for a demon!"
"Yeah?" Spike growled, taking a step forward. "I’ll show you pathetic. Give me your best shot!"
"You’d never endure the trials required to grant your request."
"Do your worst. But when I win...I want what I came here for."
The demon eyed him but said nothing in response.
"Bitch is gonna see a change."
Still glaring at Spike, the demon took a step forward. "Fine, Vampire. But you will only get what you ask for once you have completed the trials. Once you have completed one trial, the next will be that more difficult."
"Right."
"You understand then?"
"Yeah, yeah," Spike replied, somewhat eager to get on with the whole thing. "It’s not like you haven’t been clear about it, oh great mysterious one. This is a test. I don’t get what I want unless I pass said test. That about the size and shape?"
"Yes."
"And since your pad is decked out gladiator-style, and no number two pencils have been provided, I guess we’re not starting with the written."
A very large, muscular man appeared from the darkness.
"Oh, here we go then. Just me and the walking action figure. I’m venturing this would be kill-or-be-killed type of situation then?"
"To the death," the demon replied harshly.
"Right," Spike stated as he turned to face his opponent. "Here we are now. Entertain us."
The man held up his fists and smacked his arms together. Suddenly, both hands burst into flames.
"Oh, son of a bi..." Spike said, trailing off after the man punched him in the face. He sagged to his knees with the impact. Another punch and he was on his bottom, scrambling backwards. What had he gotten himself into?
******
After several hours, or days, Spike wasn’t sure anymore, he lifted the latest creature above his head, received its powers and threw it against the cave wall with a thunderous yell.
"Right. Now. I’ve beaten your tests. You said this was the last one. You bloody well better give me what I came here for."
The demon stood looking at Spike. "You have endured the required trials and have done well, vampire."
"Bloody right, I have!"
"But I cannot give you that which you already have."
Enraged, Spike’s hand shot out and took the demon by the throat. "You said if I beat your tests I could have whatever I bloody well wanted..." Suddenly he realized what the thing had said. He dropped it as if there was a fire in his hand.
Again, the demon stated, "I cannot give you that which you already have."
"Yeah, yeah. I get it you stupid git. So where does that leave me?"
"You have passed the tests. You may have whatever you wish."
"Anything?" Spike asked looking intently at the creature.
"Anything."
"Fine then. You know what I want. Make me what I was so Buffy can get what she deserves."
The demon walked over to Spike and put its hand on the vampire’s chest. Everything began to glow. "Bloody hell!" Spike shouted and then passed out.
Go to chapter one...
