Work Text:
Sequal to 'Only Human' found at http://www.livejournal.com/users/wildannuette/7087.html#cutid1
Disclaimer: I own nothing and nobody depite wishing upon many stars
It's nothing he wants anyone to know especially not any of them; he can't let them find out what's really bothering him, what he really misses and what he tortures himself every day with. They won't understand hell they won't even care. Bloody Peaches would find it hilarious and would use every possible opportunity to rub it in.
Spike paces up and down corridors ignoring looks as he passes through walls and meetings, too deep in his own thoughts to care what's going on around him.
He hadn't expected this, still wasn't expecting what he knew was coming, that's why he'd said things and that's why there were things he hadn't said. He laughs bitterly to himself pulling out his last cigarette. He looks regretfully at it and chucks the packet away, not much use to him now he'd only had the one left when he'd sucked dusted and sucked into the amulet. Whether it was sods law or just a bizarre twist of fate, the packet had reformed inside his jacket when he had.
The irony is that Spike craves the cigarette but he can't light it up, just like he can't touch the other thing he craves.
He longs to inhale deeply, to enjoy the feel of the polluted air in his lungs, to actually be able to feel something, anything physical. He can hit his own body, hurt himself, strip off and what not but he can't touch anything else, hell half the time he can barely stay in one place before something tries to drag him down. He closes his eyes. Something he doesn't want to think about, something that wants to turn him inside out and play with his insides, something that knows his deepest darkest regrets and can't wait to taunt him with them.
He curses as his fingers involuntarily crush the cigarette and he drops it to the floor sucking the tobacco off his fingers and relishing the slightly similar flavour. It reminds him of home, of Sunnydale the place he thought he'd had something, the place that was now destroyed. Lost, along with the man he loves. He laughs bitterly ignoring the strange looks and heads down to the basement of the building to think. He likes the quiet down there, likes to be alone. His lips twist in a bitter parody of a smile.
Wouldn't Peaches just find that hilarious that he, William the Bloody, likes to skulk around the basements brooding. He probably thought Spike enjoyed being a ghost, enjoyed taunting his sire, probably even thought Spike was in love with him.
Spike has to admit he likes to annoy Angel, no he takes that back. He likes to severely piss off the git. Anything and every way he can find to send the other vampire into a full-scale hissy fit is good by him. But love? He growls slightly, the idiot didn't know anything about that. He'd never loved Angelus; feared him and respected him when he was a fledge, yes.
But loved?
His mouth curved in a smirk. He'd rather have his eyes gouged out and skin stripped off then even consider loving Angel, souled or not souled.
He stops pacing and sits down staring into the darkness, the nothing of the basement. It sort of reminds him of himself. He curses vehemently, had he known what would happen, had he thought for a minute he would come back he would never have done it. Never added the final twist of the knife. He clenches his fists, feeling his nails digging into his palms.
He's taken the cowards' way out hasn't he? He constantly made out he loved someone else and hid his true feelings from Xander, he'd wanted to just let the man go, stop needing him, loving him.
But he can't let him go, he's trapped in his very own purgatory; unable to touch, unable to go to Xander, to explain and try and get him back. Even if Xander knew he was back he would never come for him.
It has to be the biggest joke of all, some power had to be sitting up there laughing their arse off at Spikes luck.
Not only had he gone out of his way to make it clear to Xander he wouldn't love him but he'd pretended he loved Angel whom he was now tied to, the worst possible person for him to be stuck with. It wasn't like Angel was seriously going to help him become corporeal again; his little gang seemed more willing to help. The poof hadn't even bothered to tell his so-called friend Spike was souled and died his final death saving the world.
Why?
Because the great twat thought Spike was in love with Buffy and he wasn't going to do anything to help Spike in case Spike went after her. He never considered that it was only a brief infatuation, no. He'd never thought maybe the tale of 'Spikes love' was embellished slightly to get the brooding idiots attention and jealousy roaring, no and obviously the bloody slayer never bothered to tell him he was shagging Xander. All he thought was Spike had played with what was his and the soul business didn't help either.
Spike grins remembering the look of indignation on his sires' face when he heard he wasn't the only one with a soul, it was quality. His grin slowly fades and his fingers reclench, nails digging back into the palms.
Spike knew that if Angel ever finds out that he loves Xander despite his 'desperate to redeem soul' the first thing his sire will do is find Xander and try to shag him into the next century. Not because the wanker actually likes the boy or wants him in anyway, he'd do it out of spite, just to shove Spikes face in it even more and even the score. Just like he did years before, when Spike was almost paralysed. Angelus would take Dru, sometimes in front of Spike and make her love 'her daddy' more then her childe.
The great poof could deny it but he had more of a selective soul then a curse, now more then ever and he'd been furious with Spike, more Angelus then Angel.
As if he would have gone after Buffy anyway, he'd got over that long before anything had happened with Xander and the slayer knew he loved Xan. Hell she was the reason he'd started playing the 'I love Angelus' card, to throw Xander off. Stupid bint had started bitching to him, warning him he was turning Xander into something, making him less human. She seemed to think even with the soul Spike was less then Angel, more demon then man. She seemed to conveniently forget how many times he'd saved them without a soul especially as it was more then Angel had.
Spike had been very tempted to tell her how much humanity he'd still had in him when he was turned, how instead of killing the ones he'd loved he'd turned them despite disastrous consequences. He'd also been very tempted to tell her how Angelus had spent countless days and nights beating the humanity out of him and trying to twist him almost making him crazy, the way he had Dru.
Spike knew he could love and he knows he had more humanity in him even before the soul, then normal vampires do. But he also knew that in the slayers warped way she was doing what was best. He hadn't believed it at the time but a few nights later it was all come together.
"You're dead Spike. You're nothing, just a poison he needs to get out of his system."
Had been her parting words to him on the subject; he had fought alongside her afterwards and even saved her a few times but he's never forgotten those words. Just like he's never forgotten what made them real.
He turns his hands over, unclenching his fists as he feels the wetness trickling through his fingers and stares at the blood. He wasn't even sure it was possible for ghosts to bleed, then again he hadn't believed he'd still be in love...
He swallows hard his eyes stinging slightly. He's never denied nor pretended to be anything other then what he is. He knows he's dead, knows he can never give Xander anything remotely normal by being with him. But he loves Xander and he knew Xander loved him back, which's why he had to do it.
He sinks to the floor; after everything he and Xander had been through he'd lied to his boyfriend, his lover, his Con- he breaks off the thought and curses. He has to stop thinking so much like a demon, wanting, taking, and keeping. Demons were very possessive and protective of what's theirs and towards the end before all hell broke lose Spike had started to lose himself to it. To something he hadn't felt since the first time he'd been with Dru.
He'd and still wants to protect Xander from anything and everything, to make sure nothing ever touches or hurts him again but Spike knows deep down he's let him down there, by lying to him and leaving him. He's not even sure how Xanders doing, he hears brief snippets from Angel but it's not enough to be reassured that his boys not gone back on his word, not started destroying himself again.
He laughs bitterly, not that any of the Scoobies ever noticed anyway, Xanders probably already well into it by now too depressed and sucked under to get out. They never noticed before why would they now. It still infuriates him, still makes the part of him that's pure demon, rage and demand retribution.
When they were together it wasn't until Xander stopped rebuking him for his comments that he realised the boy was becoming more hardened, less like himself, less white hat.
He sighs, he hadn't thought much of it, it had made him a little uneasy but the changes did Xander good, made him stronger. It hadn't been until the night Xander had been released from hospital after he'd lost his eye. He'd been so bitter and angry, more sarcastic and darker then Spike had ever seen him before and he knew it was because of him. Even Buffy had thrown it back in his face when he went after her to reassure her.
Those had been his words not Xanders, through thick and thin despite everything they'd lost before, her Xander-shaped friend had never acted like that, so cold and unfeeling.
He shakes his head, he shouldn't had listened to her but that night when he'd gone back to Xanders apartment they'd argued. Shouted, yelled and fought and ended up having the most rough, wild and fantastic sex they'd ever had before.
Spike shakes his head; he can remember the instant it happened, the instant Buffy words truly hit him. As they both came he'd been filled with a vicious need to have Xander and mark him as 'his' and his face had changed, he'd felt his fangs immediately jut out and his face tighten and he'd stared into Xanders eyes and then gone to bite him, to claim him.
Xander had stared up at him, his feelings clear for Spike to see and without a trace of fear he'd inclined his neck, baring it for Spike.
And Spike had frozen, the slayers words coming screaming back "You're poison to him"
He punches the wall, almost falling over as his hand passes straight through it, he inhales deeply biting off a snarl at his traitorous body and stalks away from the offending wall.
What else could he have done after that, if he didn't stop it then it would have been too late. Xander could never have had a normal life, would have become cold and different to the Xander Spike loves and would have ended up losing his friends.
He'd had to lie, he hadn't wanted Xander to become twisted and wrong. He knew he had nothing to give Xander He still didn't want that but now all he could think about was getting him back, something inside of him hoped that maybe by saving the world he'd be good enough for Xander, good enough not to change him into something else. He hadn't saved the world for the slayer or Angelus or any of them.
He did it for Xander, so Xander will get the chance to live. Something Spike can never do because he's just dead inside, except for the huge gaping hole where his heart was. It may be unbeating but it twists and hurts and there's nothing Spike can do about it but sit and wish for an end to it all. To no longer be in hell.
To not be in love or to be dust, maybe even both, it's all he wants now.