Journey to Destiny - Chapter 6
Dec. 9th, 2003 02:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
psubratAuthor: 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. This story is based upon the alternate universe I created in Reset.
Summary: Giles seeks assistance from an unlikely source to remove the chip from Spike’s brain....
Timeframe: Immediately following "Inside the Maelstrom"
Spike sat quietly on the couch with the ice pack to his forehead, eyes closed; hoping that whomever Giles was calling would be able to help him. There was no way he could continue with life as a human if he still had this government chip in his head. How was he supposed to defend himself against those who wanted to kill him? Not that he was going to go looking for trouble, but he knew himself well enough to realize that trouble always seemed to find him – no matter what. It had to be his magnetic personality. The thought brought a smile to his lips, which immediately brought more pain. For a second there, he’d forgotten about the wounds that Giles had inflicted while punishing him for his transgression towards Buffy. Slowly, he began to assess the damage to his body. There were definitely a few broken ribs, maybe a couple of cracked ones as well, and he was pretty sure his nose was broken too. Ah, well, par for the course. He deserved every bit.
"Spike?" Giles asked as he stood hesitantly next to the couch. He had done more harm to the former vampire than he had realized. Guilt swept through him again.
"Yeah?" Spike replied quietly.
"Is-Is there anything I can get you?"
"Water," he stated, and then after a second added, "Please."
Giles went to the kitchen, returning shortly with more ice and a cold glass of water. "Why don’t you let me have a look at those wounds? They should be taken care of before they become infected."
"The only thing I want fixed is this damn chip in my head. Who’d you call?"
"Really, Spike," Giles responded, avoiding the question. "You should let me help. Infection can be a deadly business for humans."
"I don’t care," Spike growled back. "I just want this chip out of my head. And don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject. Who’d you call?"
"A friend."
Spike took the ice pack off his head and turned to cautiously eye the Watcher. "A friend? Why doesn’t that comfort me any?"
"He’ll be here shortly to look you over," Giles stated, once again avoiding Spike’s questions. "He may be able to help with the chip." If anyone would be able to help Spike, it would be this man – he had a long history in dealing with unknown medical issues.
"Right. So I’ll just sit here like a good little git and wait for your Council member friend to arrive. Yeah, that’s right," Spike said with very little inflection in his voice. "I heard your little conversation. I may not be a vampire, but I can still hear."
Giles frowned. He had kept his voice low while he talked on the phone. There was no way that a human Spike could have heard anything other than hushed tones. Unless, of course, he was correct about what Spike had become. No matter, he’d have to wait until the chip was removed to confirm his thoughts. For now, he’d have to keep a close eye on him.
"I don’t need a bloody babysitter," Spike growled.
"How...?" Giles asked incredulously.
"You have that look," Spike replied as he tried to bring the glass of water to his cracked lips. "Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. The one that you usually give Buffy when she’s ready to go off guns blazing instead of thinking things through."
"I never knew you paid such close attention to detail."
"You’d be surprised about what I know and how much I’ve paid attention over the last few years. I could blackmail all you Scoobies if I wanted to," he stated with a weary sigh. "But I don’t. It would be wrong and Buffy would..." he trailed off, a far away look on his face. Snapping out of it almost immediately, he changed the subject. "So when’s this bloke coming?"
"He should be here any minute now," Giles responded as a knock came at the door. "Right on time, as always..." He walked across the lounge room to the hall, checked who the visitor was through the eyehole and then slowly opened the door to allow the man into his home. "Please, come in," he said, gesturing the man inside with his hand and making a quick visual sweep of the outside hallway.
"Thank you so much for coming over so quickly. Before I take you to see him, I must ask for your word that what you see here stays between us."
The elderly gentleman frowned, but nodded his reply. "As you wish, Rupert. I take it then, that you would like to keep the Council out of this?"
"For now," Giles replied, taking off his glasses to clean them. "I need to do some investigating before I involve them."
"Very well then. Where’s the patient?"
"Right through here," Giles answered as he led the way back into the lounge room. He stopped at the edge of the room, allowing the elderly man to walk inside.
Spike heard the exchange and thought he recognized the voice, despite the hushed tones. It had a certain familiarity to it but he couldn’t quite place it, his thoughts were too muddled. "I’d get up to greet you properly but I’m a bit indisposed at the moment," he quipped as he turned his head to try to see the person standing next to Giles. It took a few moments for his eyes to focus due to his injuries, but then recognition set in, horror and dread filled him. He tried to scramble off the sofa. What was Giles thinking?
Seeing the look of panic on Spike’s face, Giles tried to calm him. "Spike, it’s alright. He’s not who you think."
"Bloody hell, Watcher!" Spike yelled, cringing in pain as he tripped over his feet in a desperate attempt to stand up and face the visitor. That man, that thing, was capable of horrid things. "Have you gone completely mad?"
"Spike, do calm down, please. You’re just harming yourself more by jumping around..."
"Save it! You know who he is, right? You know what he did to Bit. How...How could you?" Spike paused, pulling himself together as the anger started to take over. He lunged for the elderly man, intending to kill him once and for all this time, to finally do what he should have done that night - the night Buffy died because of his inability to fulfill his promise to her, to protect Dawn. However, before he could cross the room, pain soared through his brain, sending him into convulsions and rendering him unconscious on the floor.
Spike slowly opened his eyes, blinking rapidly against the purplish light that swathed the room he was laid up in. It was probably from the setting sun. He would have checked the window to confirm this, but the pain in his head throbbed. For now he’d have to just assume he was right. Groggily, he tried to sit up, every part of his body screamed out in protest of this action. He groaned. This had to be the worst day of his life and he’d know, he’d lived a long time and nothing even came close to this one. Closing his eyes again, he suddenly remembered the last face he had seen before passing out.
"He’s coming around," a voice from the darkness stated in hushed tones.
Spike’s eyes snapped open, recognizing the voice in an instant. "Bloody hell!" He screamed as he tried to untangle himself from the bed sheets, but a strong, familiar hand held him in place.
"Spike, please lie still. You’ve just had major surgery," Giles soothed, pushing the former vampire back against the pillow.
"What? What did you let that monster do to me?" Spike growled, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth against the pain in his head.
"This monster," the voice calmly stated from the darkness, "is not who you think... Besides, I just saved your life. You may want to thank me."
Confusion spread over Spike’s face as he took his eyes off his savior and turned them to Giles. "Tell me you didn’t let him touch me!"
"I did, and he saved your life. You’d do well to say thank you. He was the only person capable of removing the chip. Yes, Spike," Giles began after Spike’s eyes widened in surprise. "After all this time, the chip is finally gone."
Spike furrowed his brow. "I don’t understand..."
"Of course you don’t," the man answered, stepping out of the shadows so that Spike could see him clearly. "Let me introduce myself. I’m Gerald Granger, but you may call me Doc."
Spike eyed the man’s hand warily, checking first with Giles before he continued. Once Giles nodded, he reached out and shook Doc’s hands. "I’d like a bit of an explanation if you don’t mind."
"Certainly. I have nothing to hide. Rupert here has explained that you encountered the shape-shifting demon that took on my form in Sunnydale a year ago. Yes, that was quite an awful experience for me. Very disturbing... You see, I traveled to America on behalf of the Council to observe Glorificus and to keep an eye on the Slayer’s sister. Before I knew what had happened, I was attacked and left for dead. Apparently, the demon took my form and set about taking over my life. Had the police not found me and taken me to the hospital, I’m afraid, my friend, you’d have been dead before the night was out."
"So that thing that cut Bit and threw me off the tower, it wasn’t you, but something that looked like you?" Spike asked; trying to wrap his mind around all that was being thrown at him. His chip was gone and the man who had saved him was not the creature that had caused him to fail the Slayer. Suddenly, he felt like the room was spinning.
"It’s all true, Spike. I’ve known Gerald since my youth. He’s quite well known in the Council and his reputation is above reproach. I never ran into the demon that left him for dead until Buffy flung him from the tower. It was then that I realized what had happened to Gerald. Up until that point, all that we knew was that he had been attacked and left in a coma. No one knew why."
"Why didn’t you tell any of us?" Spike asked. It all made a bit of sense in a wacky kind of way when he thought about it, but thinking made his head hurt more. He felt like his head was in a vice and someone was turning the screw.
"There was nothing to tell," Giles replied, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "There was no reason to go into any explanations. Buffy was gone, the creature was dead and Glory had been defeated. Gerald eventually recovered, was released from the hospital and returned to England to continue on with his work for the Council, no one the wiser."
"And what is it that you do for the Council?" Spike questioned Doc. He was sure that he had been told all there was to tell about the situation, but something still didn’t sit right with him.
Doc studied his patient closely, sensing Spike’s distrust. That was fine. The feeling was mutual at the moment. Never in a million years did he think he’d be in the presence of William the Bloody. It was both fascinating and slightly intimidating. On one hand, he wanted to sit on the bed and examine the man and on the other hand, he wanted to stay as far away from the former vampire as possible. He did neither, but smiled instead. "I do a little of this and a little of that," he finally replied after weighing his response carefully.
"I see," Spike responded, irritation in his voice. "So in other words, what you do is on a need to know basis and I don’t need to know."
Doc’s wrinkled face broke out into a wide grin. "I like him, Rupert. He has spunk."
Giles snorted. "Yes, that he definitely does have, and then some." He stood and nodded his head towards the door to signal for Doc to follow him to the lounge room. "Spike, I want you to get some rest now. I have a Council meeting to attend. Gerald will be staying with you until my return. Do try to behave yourself."
Spike put his hand to his chest, mouth agape in mock indignation.
Giles rolled his eyes. "Yes, you... You may be human now, but you still have your vampire traits - namely your attitude. Don’t act so put out. You could still be a menace, you know."
"Whatever, Watcher," Spike replied tersely, closing his eyes and settling into a comfortable position. He could get used to the way the mattress surrounded his body and the way the duvet wrapped around him like a glove. The pillows were the softest he had ever felt in his life. Yes, he certainly could get used to being human again if it meant he could sleep this comfortably. He’d found paradise, or the other side of it anyway. No more crypts for him, no sir!
"Right," Giles replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I won’t be long, maybe a couple of hours at the most." He paused at the door and turned around to take one last look at the man in his guest room. In that short amount of time, Spike had fallen back to sleep, more than likely out of sheer exhaustion.
The sun shone brightly over Spike’s head as he walked through the sand. The desert’s vastness lay out before him in endless swirls and dunes. He looked around in confusion. Wasn’t he just in Giles guestroom curled up in the lap of luxury? What was this place and why was he here? Holding his hand up to shield his eyes, he squinted to see what, if anything, might be on the horizon. Nothing caught his eye. He was alone. Utterly and completely alone. He sighed, shoulders slumped and head bowed. He just wanted to be back in that bed again.
It felt as though he had been wandering through the desert for hours, dressed only in faded jeans, yet his feet didn’t burn nor was he hot from the sun. It was all very strange. "Has to be a dream," he muttered to himself as he continued walking - to where he had no clue.
"Is that what you think, vampire? That this be nothing but a dream?"
Spike stopped, spun around and squinted his eyes to make sure his mind wasn’t deceiving him. "Zareb?"
"Yes, vampire, it is I," the man responded with a nod.
"Why are you in my dream?" Spike asked with a frown.
Zareb smiled but said nothing.
"Cat got your tongue, does it? Don’t know why I’d be dreaming ‘bout you, mate, but it’s still good to see you." When his friend still said nothing, he began to feel uneasy. Just then the wind began whipping around him, sending sand into his eyes. When he brushed the sand away and reopened them, he found himself in the middle of a very large crowd of people, all staring at him, looking sad and weary.
"Who are these people?" Spike whispered to Zareb, an eerie feeling of foreboding settled in his stomach. He knew who they were; he just wanted confirmation.
"Do you not know those whose deaths you have caused?" Zareb asked him.
Nausea swept through him and his legs felt like rubber. He looked around the crowd, trying to avoid eye contact until he looked down and saw a little girl. She was around the age of four and dressed in a pretty little white skirt set, trimmed in pink lace. Her brown curly hair had been done up in ponytails. She was the perfect picture of innocence. Immediately he recognized her. She had been among the family he and Dru had killed in Prague, the one that had sparked the mob that had attacked them.
He fell to his knees in front of her. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch her cheek, noticing at the same time that her eyes were the deepest shade of brown he had ever seen. She would have been quite beautiful, if she had been allowed to grow up, but now she would never have that opportunity. Nor would she marry and have children. She would never know the joy of falling in love. No, she would never have any of these things, because of him. He had taken her life. Him. His fault.
An overwhelming sense of pain and loss filled him. Guilt in its purest form. His arm dropped to his side as he began to weep for her. The weight of his actions came crashing down on him. The weeping turned to sobbing as the pain he had caused her and the countless others who surrounded him, washed over him and through him. It burned him from within, his very being felt as if it were on fire.
The little girl stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Spike, leaning her head on his as his body shook with each new sob.
One by one, each victim walked up to Spike to touch him, to allow him the understanding that he was being forgiven.
"William," a soft, feminine voice spoke. "William, open your eyes, dear."
Spike did as he was told, not because he had been ordered to do so, but because he recognized the voice. "Mother?" He choked out. He felt as if he might hyperventilate in her presence.
"Yes, William, it’s me." She opened her arms, beckoning him to her.
He ran to her, stumbling as he went. When he reached her, he threw himself into her embrace. "Mother," he gasped. "I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry."
"I know, dear, I know," she soothed. "All’s forgiven, my son."
"No! You mustn’t forgive me! None of you should!" He cried. "What I did, it’s...unforgivable."
"Shhh," she said, rubbing his back and planting a kiss on his forehead in a motherly fashion. "You only did what came naturally to the demon inside, killing to survive. William, dear, no one here blames the human for what the demon did."
"That doesn’t make it right! I killed you, mother! Your own son took your life."
"William, look at me!" She demanded. "Something was left of your humanity when you were turned, so much so that the demon did something that others wouldn’t have done or even considered doing. It wanted to take away my pain, to ease an old woman’s suffering. There was no malice in it, William, none at all."
"But I had to stake you..."
"You staked a demon, William, not me. Unlike you, when I was turned, no shred of humanity remained in my body. You were special, William." She pulled back from the embrace and cupped his chin in her hand. "You’ve always been special, dear. And you still are."
Spike shook his head. "No! I’m an awful thing, mother. I killed for the joy and pleasure of it. How do you explain my glee when I murdered those two slayers?" He asked, pointing to the two young women off to the side. Even they had come forward to forgive him. "I savored every moment of their deaths."
"William, you are quite important to this world. I knew that the moment I bore you. Accept the fact that you have been forgiven - yes, even by the slayers. They knew what you were and they knew the risks that came with their title. But never forget these faces, my son. Never forget. Otherwise, it will all be for naught. Do you understand?"
"No," Spike responded, too overwhelmed by it all. "I can’t..."
"William, I am your mother and I have spoken," she stated sternly. "Do not make me angry." She drew him back into her arms and whispered into his ear, "I love you, William. Nothing will ever change that."
Spike began sobbing again, trying desperately to repeat the words back to her. Finally, he gathered himself enough to tell her how much he loved her as well.
Zareb allowed the reunion to continue for a few more moments, giving Spike the time he needed to try to come to terms with his past transgressions and the forgiveness he was receiving. However, it would take more time than they had at the present. More than likely, Spike would be grappling with this event for months, if not years to come. Finally, Anne stepped away from her son and disappeared with the others into the ether. Zareb walked over to his friend and placed a hand on the shaking man’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. When Spike finally looked up through red swollen eyes, he spoke to him in a soothing voice.
"There is yet one more you must face, vampire, but her forgiveness you will not receive this day."
"Who?" Spike asked, wiping away the stray tears that stained his face. "Where is she?"
"There," Zareb answered, pointing to a lone gravestone that sat at the mouth of a cave.
At a snail's pace Spike walked over to the grave and bent down to read the words.
Buffy Anne Summers
His knees buckled and he fell to the ground for the second time in this dream. He reached out and traced the letters. "She’s...again?" He managed to finally get out.
"No. She is not. This is here because you feel that you caused her death. It will not disappear until you understand that you could have done nothing to stop it."
"But I am to blame," Spike howled. "I couldn’t keep my promise..."
"There are things in this world that cannot be undone, no matter what you do to try to stop them. Some things just are."
Spike glared at his friend. "You have no idea what you’re talking about."
"I know more than you think, vampire. Believe me when I say that everything occurred as it should have."
"She shouldn’t have died!" He roared, standing up and turning on his friend in one fluid motion, struggling against the anger that was rising to the surface. "It was my fault and then what I did to her..."
"These things were all prophesized. It was all meant to be. You do not understand now, but you must, in order to fulfill your destiny."
"My destiny?" He demanded with a scowl. "You and mother and your destiny. You’ve got the wrong guy. Maybe you need to go visit Peaches’ dreams for a while."
Zareb laughed heartily. "Angel is not who he is believed to be. The truth will come out soon and all will be revealed."
"What are you rambling on about? What do you means Peaches isn’t who everyone thinks? Hey! Don’t walk away from me when I’m asking you questions!"
"I am done here, vampire. Remember all that you have seen and heard, the future of this world depends upon it," he stated, walking away and fading into the air.
"Bloody hell!" Spike growled as he ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. He then turned and looked back at Buffy’s headstone, feeling his stomach tighten and the tears sting his eyes. "I know you can’t hear me, Luv, but I need to say it just the same..."
Go to chapter seven...
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. This story is based upon the alternate universe I created in Reset.
Summary: Giles seeks assistance from an unlikely source to remove the chip from Spike’s brain....
Timeframe: Immediately following "Inside the Maelstrom"
- 6 -
The Other Side of Paradise
The Other Side of Paradise
Spike sat quietly on the couch with the ice pack to his forehead, eyes closed; hoping that whomever Giles was calling would be able to help him. There was no way he could continue with life as a human if he still had this government chip in his head. How was he supposed to defend himself against those who wanted to kill him? Not that he was going to go looking for trouble, but he knew himself well enough to realize that trouble always seemed to find him – no matter what. It had to be his magnetic personality. The thought brought a smile to his lips, which immediately brought more pain. For a second there, he’d forgotten about the wounds that Giles had inflicted while punishing him for his transgression towards Buffy. Slowly, he began to assess the damage to his body. There were definitely a few broken ribs, maybe a couple of cracked ones as well, and he was pretty sure his nose was broken too. Ah, well, par for the course. He deserved every bit.
"Spike?" Giles asked as he stood hesitantly next to the couch. He had done more harm to the former vampire than he had realized. Guilt swept through him again.
"Yeah?" Spike replied quietly.
"Is-Is there anything I can get you?"
"Water," he stated, and then after a second added, "Please."
Giles went to the kitchen, returning shortly with more ice and a cold glass of water. "Why don’t you let me have a look at those wounds? They should be taken care of before they become infected."
"The only thing I want fixed is this damn chip in my head. Who’d you call?"
"Really, Spike," Giles responded, avoiding the question. "You should let me help. Infection can be a deadly business for humans."
"I don’t care," Spike growled back. "I just want this chip out of my head. And don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject. Who’d you call?"
"A friend."
Spike took the ice pack off his head and turned to cautiously eye the Watcher. "A friend? Why doesn’t that comfort me any?"
"He’ll be here shortly to look you over," Giles stated, once again avoiding Spike’s questions. "He may be able to help with the chip." If anyone would be able to help Spike, it would be this man – he had a long history in dealing with unknown medical issues.
"Right. So I’ll just sit here like a good little git and wait for your Council member friend to arrive. Yeah, that’s right," Spike said with very little inflection in his voice. "I heard your little conversation. I may not be a vampire, but I can still hear."
Giles frowned. He had kept his voice low while he talked on the phone. There was no way that a human Spike could have heard anything other than hushed tones. Unless, of course, he was correct about what Spike had become. No matter, he’d have to wait until the chip was removed to confirm his thoughts. For now, he’d have to keep a close eye on him.
"I don’t need a bloody babysitter," Spike growled.
"How...?" Giles asked incredulously.
"You have that look," Spike replied as he tried to bring the glass of water to his cracked lips. "Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. The one that you usually give Buffy when she’s ready to go off guns blazing instead of thinking things through."
"I never knew you paid such close attention to detail."
"You’d be surprised about what I know and how much I’ve paid attention over the last few years. I could blackmail all you Scoobies if I wanted to," he stated with a weary sigh. "But I don’t. It would be wrong and Buffy would..." he trailed off, a far away look on his face. Snapping out of it almost immediately, he changed the subject. "So when’s this bloke coming?"
"He should be here any minute now," Giles responded as a knock came at the door. "Right on time, as always..." He walked across the lounge room to the hall, checked who the visitor was through the eyehole and then slowly opened the door to allow the man into his home. "Please, come in," he said, gesturing the man inside with his hand and making a quick visual sweep of the outside hallway.
"Thank you so much for coming over so quickly. Before I take you to see him, I must ask for your word that what you see here stays between us."
The elderly gentleman frowned, but nodded his reply. "As you wish, Rupert. I take it then, that you would like to keep the Council out of this?"
"For now," Giles replied, taking off his glasses to clean them. "I need to do some investigating before I involve them."
"Very well then. Where’s the patient?"
"Right through here," Giles answered as he led the way back into the lounge room. He stopped at the edge of the room, allowing the elderly man to walk inside.
Spike heard the exchange and thought he recognized the voice, despite the hushed tones. It had a certain familiarity to it but he couldn’t quite place it, his thoughts were too muddled. "I’d get up to greet you properly but I’m a bit indisposed at the moment," he quipped as he turned his head to try to see the person standing next to Giles. It took a few moments for his eyes to focus due to his injuries, but then recognition set in, horror and dread filled him. He tried to scramble off the sofa. What was Giles thinking?
Seeing the look of panic on Spike’s face, Giles tried to calm him. "Spike, it’s alright. He’s not who you think."
"Bloody hell, Watcher!" Spike yelled, cringing in pain as he tripped over his feet in a desperate attempt to stand up and face the visitor. That man, that thing, was capable of horrid things. "Have you gone completely mad?"
"Spike, do calm down, please. You’re just harming yourself more by jumping around..."
"Save it! You know who he is, right? You know what he did to Bit. How...How could you?" Spike paused, pulling himself together as the anger started to take over. He lunged for the elderly man, intending to kill him once and for all this time, to finally do what he should have done that night - the night Buffy died because of his inability to fulfill his promise to her, to protect Dawn. However, before he could cross the room, pain soared through his brain, sending him into convulsions and rendering him unconscious on the floor.
******
Spike slowly opened his eyes, blinking rapidly against the purplish light that swathed the room he was laid up in. It was probably from the setting sun. He would have checked the window to confirm this, but the pain in his head throbbed. For now he’d have to just assume he was right. Groggily, he tried to sit up, every part of his body screamed out in protest of this action. He groaned. This had to be the worst day of his life and he’d know, he’d lived a long time and nothing even came close to this one. Closing his eyes again, he suddenly remembered the last face he had seen before passing out.
"He’s coming around," a voice from the darkness stated in hushed tones.
Spike’s eyes snapped open, recognizing the voice in an instant. "Bloody hell!" He screamed as he tried to untangle himself from the bed sheets, but a strong, familiar hand held him in place.
"Spike, please lie still. You’ve just had major surgery," Giles soothed, pushing the former vampire back against the pillow.
"What? What did you let that monster do to me?" Spike growled, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth against the pain in his head.
"This monster," the voice calmly stated from the darkness, "is not who you think... Besides, I just saved your life. You may want to thank me."
Confusion spread over Spike’s face as he took his eyes off his savior and turned them to Giles. "Tell me you didn’t let him touch me!"
"I did, and he saved your life. You’d do well to say thank you. He was the only person capable of removing the chip. Yes, Spike," Giles began after Spike’s eyes widened in surprise. "After all this time, the chip is finally gone."
Spike furrowed his brow. "I don’t understand..."
"Of course you don’t," the man answered, stepping out of the shadows so that Spike could see him clearly. "Let me introduce myself. I’m Gerald Granger, but you may call me Doc."
Spike eyed the man’s hand warily, checking first with Giles before he continued. Once Giles nodded, he reached out and shook Doc’s hands. "I’d like a bit of an explanation if you don’t mind."
"Certainly. I have nothing to hide. Rupert here has explained that you encountered the shape-shifting demon that took on my form in Sunnydale a year ago. Yes, that was quite an awful experience for me. Very disturbing... You see, I traveled to America on behalf of the Council to observe Glorificus and to keep an eye on the Slayer’s sister. Before I knew what had happened, I was attacked and left for dead. Apparently, the demon took my form and set about taking over my life. Had the police not found me and taken me to the hospital, I’m afraid, my friend, you’d have been dead before the night was out."
"So that thing that cut Bit and threw me off the tower, it wasn’t you, but something that looked like you?" Spike asked; trying to wrap his mind around all that was being thrown at him. His chip was gone and the man who had saved him was not the creature that had caused him to fail the Slayer. Suddenly, he felt like the room was spinning.
"It’s all true, Spike. I’ve known Gerald since my youth. He’s quite well known in the Council and his reputation is above reproach. I never ran into the demon that left him for dead until Buffy flung him from the tower. It was then that I realized what had happened to Gerald. Up until that point, all that we knew was that he had been attacked and left in a coma. No one knew why."
"Why didn’t you tell any of us?" Spike asked. It all made a bit of sense in a wacky kind of way when he thought about it, but thinking made his head hurt more. He felt like his head was in a vice and someone was turning the screw.
"There was nothing to tell," Giles replied, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "There was no reason to go into any explanations. Buffy was gone, the creature was dead and Glory had been defeated. Gerald eventually recovered, was released from the hospital and returned to England to continue on with his work for the Council, no one the wiser."
"And what is it that you do for the Council?" Spike questioned Doc. He was sure that he had been told all there was to tell about the situation, but something still didn’t sit right with him.
Doc studied his patient closely, sensing Spike’s distrust. That was fine. The feeling was mutual at the moment. Never in a million years did he think he’d be in the presence of William the Bloody. It was both fascinating and slightly intimidating. On one hand, he wanted to sit on the bed and examine the man and on the other hand, he wanted to stay as far away from the former vampire as possible. He did neither, but smiled instead. "I do a little of this and a little of that," he finally replied after weighing his response carefully.
"I see," Spike responded, irritation in his voice. "So in other words, what you do is on a need to know basis and I don’t need to know."
Doc’s wrinkled face broke out into a wide grin. "I like him, Rupert. He has spunk."
Giles snorted. "Yes, that he definitely does have, and then some." He stood and nodded his head towards the door to signal for Doc to follow him to the lounge room. "Spike, I want you to get some rest now. I have a Council meeting to attend. Gerald will be staying with you until my return. Do try to behave yourself."
Spike put his hand to his chest, mouth agape in mock indignation.
Giles rolled his eyes. "Yes, you... You may be human now, but you still have your vampire traits - namely your attitude. Don’t act so put out. You could still be a menace, you know."
"Whatever, Watcher," Spike replied tersely, closing his eyes and settling into a comfortable position. He could get used to the way the mattress surrounded his body and the way the duvet wrapped around him like a glove. The pillows were the softest he had ever felt in his life. Yes, he certainly could get used to being human again if it meant he could sleep this comfortably. He’d found paradise, or the other side of it anyway. No more crypts for him, no sir!
"Right," Giles replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I won’t be long, maybe a couple of hours at the most." He paused at the door and turned around to take one last look at the man in his guest room. In that short amount of time, Spike had fallen back to sleep, more than likely out of sheer exhaustion.
******
The sun shone brightly over Spike’s head as he walked through the sand. The desert’s vastness lay out before him in endless swirls and dunes. He looked around in confusion. Wasn’t he just in Giles guestroom curled up in the lap of luxury? What was this place and why was he here? Holding his hand up to shield his eyes, he squinted to see what, if anything, might be on the horizon. Nothing caught his eye. He was alone. Utterly and completely alone. He sighed, shoulders slumped and head bowed. He just wanted to be back in that bed again.
It felt as though he had been wandering through the desert for hours, dressed only in faded jeans, yet his feet didn’t burn nor was he hot from the sun. It was all very strange. "Has to be a dream," he muttered to himself as he continued walking - to where he had no clue.
"Is that what you think, vampire? That this be nothing but a dream?"
Spike stopped, spun around and squinted his eyes to make sure his mind wasn’t deceiving him. "Zareb?"
"Yes, vampire, it is I," the man responded with a nod.
"Why are you in my dream?" Spike asked with a frown.
Zareb smiled but said nothing.
"Cat got your tongue, does it? Don’t know why I’d be dreaming ‘bout you, mate, but it’s still good to see you." When his friend still said nothing, he began to feel uneasy. Just then the wind began whipping around him, sending sand into his eyes. When he brushed the sand away and reopened them, he found himself in the middle of a very large crowd of people, all staring at him, looking sad and weary.
"Who are these people?" Spike whispered to Zareb, an eerie feeling of foreboding settled in his stomach. He knew who they were; he just wanted confirmation.
"Do you not know those whose deaths you have caused?" Zareb asked him.
Nausea swept through him and his legs felt like rubber. He looked around the crowd, trying to avoid eye contact until he looked down and saw a little girl. She was around the age of four and dressed in a pretty little white skirt set, trimmed in pink lace. Her brown curly hair had been done up in ponytails. She was the perfect picture of innocence. Immediately he recognized her. She had been among the family he and Dru had killed in Prague, the one that had sparked the mob that had attacked them.
He fell to his knees in front of her. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch her cheek, noticing at the same time that her eyes were the deepest shade of brown he had ever seen. She would have been quite beautiful, if she had been allowed to grow up, but now she would never have that opportunity. Nor would she marry and have children. She would never know the joy of falling in love. No, she would never have any of these things, because of him. He had taken her life. Him. His fault.
An overwhelming sense of pain and loss filled him. Guilt in its purest form. His arm dropped to his side as he began to weep for her. The weight of his actions came crashing down on him. The weeping turned to sobbing as the pain he had caused her and the countless others who surrounded him, washed over him and through him. It burned him from within, his very being felt as if it were on fire.
The little girl stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Spike, leaning her head on his as his body shook with each new sob.
One by one, each victim walked up to Spike to touch him, to allow him the understanding that he was being forgiven.
"William," a soft, feminine voice spoke. "William, open your eyes, dear."
Spike did as he was told, not because he had been ordered to do so, but because he recognized the voice. "Mother?" He choked out. He felt as if he might hyperventilate in her presence.
"Yes, William, it’s me." She opened her arms, beckoning him to her.
He ran to her, stumbling as he went. When he reached her, he threw himself into her embrace. "Mother," he gasped. "I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry."
"I know, dear, I know," she soothed. "All’s forgiven, my son."
"No! You mustn’t forgive me! None of you should!" He cried. "What I did, it’s...unforgivable."
"Shhh," she said, rubbing his back and planting a kiss on his forehead in a motherly fashion. "You only did what came naturally to the demon inside, killing to survive. William, dear, no one here blames the human for what the demon did."
"That doesn’t make it right! I killed you, mother! Your own son took your life."
"William, look at me!" She demanded. "Something was left of your humanity when you were turned, so much so that the demon did something that others wouldn’t have done or even considered doing. It wanted to take away my pain, to ease an old woman’s suffering. There was no malice in it, William, none at all."
"But I had to stake you..."
"You staked a demon, William, not me. Unlike you, when I was turned, no shred of humanity remained in my body. You were special, William." She pulled back from the embrace and cupped his chin in her hand. "You’ve always been special, dear. And you still are."
Spike shook his head. "No! I’m an awful thing, mother. I killed for the joy and pleasure of it. How do you explain my glee when I murdered those two slayers?" He asked, pointing to the two young women off to the side. Even they had come forward to forgive him. "I savored every moment of their deaths."
"William, you are quite important to this world. I knew that the moment I bore you. Accept the fact that you have been forgiven - yes, even by the slayers. They knew what you were and they knew the risks that came with their title. But never forget these faces, my son. Never forget. Otherwise, it will all be for naught. Do you understand?"
"No," Spike responded, too overwhelmed by it all. "I can’t..."
"William, I am your mother and I have spoken," she stated sternly. "Do not make me angry." She drew him back into her arms and whispered into his ear, "I love you, William. Nothing will ever change that."
Spike began sobbing again, trying desperately to repeat the words back to her. Finally, he gathered himself enough to tell her how much he loved her as well.
Zareb allowed the reunion to continue for a few more moments, giving Spike the time he needed to try to come to terms with his past transgressions and the forgiveness he was receiving. However, it would take more time than they had at the present. More than likely, Spike would be grappling with this event for months, if not years to come. Finally, Anne stepped away from her son and disappeared with the others into the ether. Zareb walked over to his friend and placed a hand on the shaking man’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. When Spike finally looked up through red swollen eyes, he spoke to him in a soothing voice.
"There is yet one more you must face, vampire, but her forgiveness you will not receive this day."
"Who?" Spike asked, wiping away the stray tears that stained his face. "Where is she?"
"There," Zareb answered, pointing to a lone gravestone that sat at the mouth of a cave.
At a snail's pace Spike walked over to the grave and bent down to read the words.
Buffy Anne Summers
His knees buckled and he fell to the ground for the second time in this dream. He reached out and traced the letters. "She’s...again?" He managed to finally get out.
"No. She is not. This is here because you feel that you caused her death. It will not disappear until you understand that you could have done nothing to stop it."
"But I am to blame," Spike howled. "I couldn’t keep my promise..."
"There are things in this world that cannot be undone, no matter what you do to try to stop them. Some things just are."
Spike glared at his friend. "You have no idea what you’re talking about."
"I know more than you think, vampire. Believe me when I say that everything occurred as it should have."
"She shouldn’t have died!" He roared, standing up and turning on his friend in one fluid motion, struggling against the anger that was rising to the surface. "It was my fault and then what I did to her..."
"These things were all prophesized. It was all meant to be. You do not understand now, but you must, in order to fulfill your destiny."
"My destiny?" He demanded with a scowl. "You and mother and your destiny. You’ve got the wrong guy. Maybe you need to go visit Peaches’ dreams for a while."
Zareb laughed heartily. "Angel is not who he is believed to be. The truth will come out soon and all will be revealed."
"What are you rambling on about? What do you means Peaches isn’t who everyone thinks? Hey! Don’t walk away from me when I’m asking you questions!"
"I am done here, vampire. Remember all that you have seen and heard, the future of this world depends upon it," he stated, walking away and fading into the air.
"Bloody hell!" Spike growled as he ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. He then turned and looked back at Buffy’s headstone, feeling his stomach tighten and the tears sting his eyes. "I know you can’t hear me, Luv, but I need to say it just the same..."
Go to chapter seven...
