After the tears came sleep. Spike slept through the perfect day into the perfect evening before he woke again. Hera and Oz still sitting by his side. He couldn't even summon up the energy needed to be rude to them. Spike still felt exhausted, but more, worse than that, he felt deeply, deeply embarrassed. He had failed to stake himself for a second time, and far worse than anything else - he had cried before the mutt and a Goddess of all creatures. There was no doubt in his mind that the lady who called herself Hera and Queen was indeed the Goddess Hera. And before her William the Bloody had wept very real tears for his very real pain and profound shame. Why didn't they let him die?
"Why didn't you let me die?" Spike whispered his question to the ceiling rather than either of his companions. He couldn't face either of them, or the future. As for the past, he wanted to draw a veil over it all and never look behind it ever again. Failing that, he wished he had been allowed to die. If he could have wished a stake in his heart as he lay there, he would have. He continued to lie there, looking steadfastly ceilingward, wishing with all his might. Nothing happened. His heart continued to not beat, to be steadfastly stake free. He continued to exist, certainly he would never call it living ever again.
"You have a destiny, child, a very large role in the coming end game." Hera held onto Spike's left hand with both of hers, patting it softly, stroking his long fingers. Touching him with such delicacy that part of him hoped she would never let go.
"A destiny? As what? My insane sire's punch bag? Buffy's chew toy? Is that all my life and death amount to? A means to let my..." He barked out a short bitter laugh. "Fuck, but I almost called them my friends. That's rich, isn't it? Friends, them, me?" Finally he looked at her, meeting her eyes squarely, letting her see his pain in all its dark glory. "Why should I bother to fulfil such a destiny, huh? Did your Fates tell you that too? Did they?"
Hera was bathed in the agony of Spike's hidden soul, beyond responding for the moment, swamped by his feelings, the effect made all the worse by her continuing to hold him. She did not let go however. She held all the tighter. It was left to Oz to try and respond to Spike's pain driven questions. Words were not normally his strong suit, but his words were at least mostly always honest. So long as he didn't mention Tibet. That notion made him smile briefly, warmly, finding hope he spoke.
"Our destiny is not to be either of their kick toys. You and me are going to be partners, the werewolf and the vampire. Warriors for the Powers that Were and Will Be Again. You and I, us together, we're going into direct competition with Angel and his team of demon killers. They kill the demons to the favour of humans, always, well almost always anyway. You and I will be like bounty hunters, balancing the forces that drive the world. Bringing the guilty humans and demons alike to the... place..." He made a vague gesture with his hands obviously searching for an unfamiliar term.
"The Areiopagus Demonicus, as some of the others call it. The demon court is its real title." Hera smiled at Oz and turned once more to face Spike. Taking up the narrative from the point Oz stopped. "You see, child, it had been agreed between us and those that came after that all matters between our excluded children and humans would be adjudged fairly. Until belief in our powers returned sufficiently we could do nothing but watch. Watch as they betrayed and ignore every promise they ever made to us. Now, however, we can and will act. All those lying..." She stopped talking, fumed quietly for a few moments, looked at Spike in an almost frustrated silence.
"Bastards, gits, scum, fuck witted mammal lovers?" Spike offered her a few emotive alternative terms of reference to choose from. He saw a fire burn in Hera's eyes at each pro-offered choice. He heard the stifled snort of laughter from Oz too, although he didn't turn to look at the young werewolf. He couldn't, Hera's rage was such a thing of beauty he could not look away. So pure and clearly defined, it was powerful, almost hypnotic to a creature born out of rage and violence.
"All of them!" Hera snarled. "They lied, they didn't keep a single promise to maintain the balance with the children they wouldn't let us take with us into exile. No, on the contrary they hunted them down, killing them. Unbalancing the world, removing the natural predator that hunted on the foolish, the week, the unfit to survive mortals. Just as the strong mortals preyed on them. Two sides of a balance, but they tipped it in favour of the mortals, letting them breed and spread like a disease. Driving the demons into deep hiding. Not it's time we redressed that imbalance." Again Hera fell silent.
"And you want Oz, a relatively inexperienced werewolf, and me, a pregnant vampire of all things, to redress this balance? Look, I'm having enough trouble believing I'm not dead, like dusted dead. That's twice I've failed at it now! And... and now you say that I'm pregnant, me, a bloke, a male vampire, a man that died in 1873, knocked up, up the duff, ensprogged by... by..." He couldn't say it, it turned his gut so much he rolled over and threw up onto the smooth, polished, expensive looking marble floor.
With a wave of her hand the mess was gone. With another wave of her hand a goblet of still warm blood appeared in her hand.
"Here, drink this. And didn't it ever occur to you that you might have been saved from dusting yourself for some higher reason?" She handed the goblet over, once Oz had Spike sitting upright.
With shaking hands the vampire took the blood and gulped down a long draft of the warm, sweetly bitter fluid. At the taste of it, his eyes flew open and he slowly lowered the goblet, careful to not spill a drop. It was not pig, cow or any other domesticated animals blood. Nor was it human blood. It was rich, powerful, beyond any word he could envision. It had to be Gods blood. If Hera had been telling him the truth and the ancient Greek Gods were the true Gods of all demons natural to this dimension, then his Gods had given up their blood to feed him. Him! They valued him, he was worth something to someone after all. To the Gods.
"Oh, God.." Spike whispered.
"Most assuredly not, that lying old fart wouldn't give up a molecule to save anyone, let alone his blood for a child. Granted he only had the one, allegedly, but I always thought that story far too much like Herakles' life story to be true personally. Only Herakles enjoyed sex more." Hera grinned impishly as she responded to Spike's involuntary comment.
"Oh, Gods and Goddesses then." The vampire tried again, he had to be feeling better, his sarcastic tendencies were showing itself once more.
"Better." Hera cautioned, letting him know she was allowing the sarcasm pass this once. "Now, have you understood what we've been saying?"
"I think so. You want me, him and me, us like, to go out and kick ass for your cause. Save the innocents, bring the bad guys to justice, your justice. As in your actual demons court and fair trial justice. And generally work against... him!" The goblet held such interest at that moment, it was far better than thinking about him. The name he didn't want to think of, let alone say. He drank the last of the blood these Gods had given him. Savouring the very last trace of its flavour as he swallowed it down.
"That about covers it. Of course there are practical details to work out and what not. But you've got the essential parts of things down pat." Hera retook a hold of Spike's hand, waving the now empty goblet away. "One of those details is the baby you are now carrying. We didn't actually count that into our plans. We suspect one of the other players got wind of our plans and tried to counter our emergence into the field of play. We have been directing your life and destiny from the side lines for a while now, getting you into position to allow you to make the transition from random killer to one of our champions. Hey, they've got two, we want two. It's only fair after all. The chip in your head was part of our over all plan. We had to get you thinking of the inhabitants of the world, human and demons alike, as something other than things to eat or fight. And you were doing so well too, until you fell for that Herakles clone with breasts and a vampire fixation." Hera snarled again. It managed to sound both lady like and definitely unlady like at one and the same time. Spike was impressed. Angered at their interference but still bloody annoyed with their high handed attitude to his future however. Then the truth of her words sunk in and he stared at her quite blankly for a heartbeat, if he had a heartbeat to measure time against. As he opened his mouth to speak his eyes flooded with emotion, not happiness and joy either.
"You had them put that bloody fuckin' piece of shit chip in m'bleedin' head? You lot were behind the fuckin' Initiative? And you're supposed t'be on our bleedin' side? Why?" The angered vampire was trembling with the rage that Hera's confession triggered.
"As I said, to teach you. To show you there are other things in the world besides destruction and mayhem and violence. You have learned to get yourself out of situations without using your fists. Granted you tended to use the slayers fists, but you learned that there are always options. You learned that killing isn't enough. It has causes and effects. And when the cause is you killing demons just to be killing someone then the effect is you get hit back by all the rest of the demons. I'd say you learned that lesson rather well. Wouldn't you?" Hera drew her shoulders back and sat a little straighter in her chair, it was obvious she hadn't expected Spike to react quite as negatively as he had.
"Fuckin' hell woman, what the fuck were you playing at? Teachin' me! Fuckin' Sesame Street for the undead? Teachin' me! Teachin' me? Christ on fuckin' skewer, you coulda' just givin' m'the fuckin' book. I can read you know! Have done since I went t'the fuckin' university, an' before!" Spike glowed in his rage. Hera and Oz finally sat back and shared a strained but happy smile; an angry vampire was normally a non suicidal vampire.
"Sometimes the lesson is lost in the translation." Hera held out her hand, fist curled downwards. "Here." She shook the hand getting Spike's attention and the automatic hand in response to her offering him something. Curiosity wasn't something created solely to orchestrate the demise of cats. It had long been the best means for Gods, or indeed Goddesses, to get the humans in the world to sit up and pay better attention.
Spike opened his hand and a small black chip fell into it.
He could say nothing. For once the bleach blond vampire was entirely speechless. All he could do was sit there and stare at the little lump of plastic and metal that had caused him so much damn grief and pain.
"Granted this does mean you can fight humans, you can defend yourself, even initiate a fight if you need to. But try and drink from one, without their express permission, and you're going to find out that that chip was really your very best friend, ever!" The Goddess' voice left him in no doubt that she was telling the truth. He slowly looked from the chip to her, unsure of what he wanted to ask. "It's simple, William Mansfield, you work for us, we see to your every need. Our blood will more than just quell your hunger. You need less, it does more. You get to..." she seemed to pause to consider the best choice of words to go with, "Kick butt, knock heads, wallop the opposition. And generally mess with him and her and their precious one sided game plans."
The very idea of a Goddess using such an obscure term as wallop had Spike clutching his belly as he laughed. He roared with laughter until the tears threatened to return once more. And he totally failed to respond to her use of his real name. At least it meant she didn't have to explain to the vampire how come Oz didn't react at all to her mentioning it. He finally gasped for breath to speak and asked the werewolf the question uppermost in his mind, locking eyes with the younger man.
"I take it you're up for this then?"
"Yup!" Oz replied, sounding inordinately keen on the idea.
"Why?" Spike questioned him some more, laughter all gone, deadly serious.
"Because I am what I am all because someone messed with the balance a thousand years ago, or more. Because I don't want it to happen to others, if we can help it. You've learned to control the beast within, with out the stupid curse and the thou shall not be happy tag! Why can't other demon's. I've learned. They've taught me to master the beast, a thing Buffy and them said couldn't be done. They lied, they destroyed me and Willow, so I want to fight back." Oz fell silent, remembering the manner in which he discovered the woman he had loved and struggled for now loved another. She hadn't even had the courage or honesty to tell him. He had had to smell the truth from another.
"Tibet eh?" Spike teased.
"Tibet." Oz laughed, softly.
"About me being pregnant..." He didn't know quite what question he wanted to ask, but saw that Hera understood him better than he understood himself.
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