Improvising Atonement, 6/?
Dec. 21st, 2007 01:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sevendeadlyfunPairing: None this chapter (Spike, Giles)
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: A vampire with a soul comes to Sunnydale to help The Slayer. Can a demon ever atone?
A/N: Beta'd by the wonderfulnoandwhere who really is always available and can I mention how much I love that? 1:00 a.m. EST here and whatever time it is in her neck of the woods and she's got it back to me in twenty minutes. What a champ! Oh, also written for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tamingthemuse prompt 74-nowhere.
Spike stood on the stone steps of the school, staring thoughtfully at the rows of glass and steel doors. The stones clung to the heat they’d soaked up during the sunny California day, the warmth rising up and flowing over his chilled body. He’d been here before. Another time, another place, but still on the outside and trying desperately to be heard.
“Missing the pleasures of the schoolroom?” a soft voice asked.
He flinched, a swift shudder that might pass unnoticed by anyone except her. She knew him, knew his weaknesses. Blood called to blood, souls not withstanding, and she would play on that as she always had before.
“Always something new to be learned,” he replied without turning around. He didn’t need to see her. Her face, delicate and fine as porcelain, was engraved in his memory.
“He’ll be here, you know,” Darla informed him. “Sooner or later, he’ll be here. What will you do then, William? Run and hide behind the humans? Do you think they’ll protect you from him once they know what you truly are? What, darling, not who; a vicious animal to be put down for the good of humanity.”
“Yeah,” Spike agreed. “ ‘M all that and more besides. ‘S what I was made, innit? And no, I won’t be hiding. Angelus wants me, he’ll be able to find me.”
“He’ll want you,” she assured him. “We want you. Always family, William. You can’t run from that.”
“I’m not running,” he murmured, but she was gone. Slipping off into the night that was their refuge and their playground. Theirs and not just hers, because he was no less damned than Darla.
Spike squared his shoulders and strode into the building, following the various signs that pointed around corners and down corridors towards the library. Walking in, the smells of parchment and leather washed over him, familiar old friends. The Watcher was here, his heartbeat an endless tidal rush overlaying the stillness.
“I’ve been re-reading the old diaries.” The Watcher’s words, cold and precise, hit Spike like a slap. “I study them, you know. So much that Buffy must know, must be able to do, in order to fulfill her destiny.”
Spike stood frozen, not daring to move. The other man stood across the room, a small book in one hand and a crossbow in the other. Spike trained his eyes on the wooden bolt, ready to jump. He didn’t want to hurt the Watcher, but he wasn’t about to go down quietly either.
“William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers,” Giles enunciated. “I must say, I never thought I’d meet such a notorious vampire. It’s interesting, your story. There’s quite a debate over your origins. Tell me, please, who is your Sire? Some sources claim Drusilla, others insist that you are the…progeny of none other than Angelus himself.”
“Not quite feeling like sharing at the moment,” Spike ground out. “Death threats don’t make for the most convivial atmosphere, mate.”
Giles narrowed his eyes, but didn’t lower the crossbow. He spoke again, the words clipped.
“You have killed two Slayers. However, I find no record of you feeding on humans after the death of Xin Rong in 1900,” Giles mused. “Yet you killed Nikki Wood. I must confess a certain….curiosity.”
“It…I was cursed,” Spike began falteringly. “Well, blessed actually, considering the source. Bloody hell! This is hard. I’m not…I don’t mean you any harm, Watcher. Not gonna kill you or your Slayer ‘less I’m forced to.”
“Forced to,” Giles repeated softly.
“Yeah,” Spike said. “The second Slayer, Nikki? I tried to explain, to help. She just attacked. I tried to incapacitate her, but it was her or me.”
“And this relates to your ‘blessing’ how?” Giles demanded, eyes hardening at the mention of the New York Slayer’s death.
“The first Slayer in China,” Spike told him, voice wavering. “After I…after, her Watcher or someone, I don’t know, told her mother. Priestess by the name of Xin Zhen at the temple in Tianjin. It was bloody murder in the streets those days, Boxer Rebellion in a fever pitch. Shot raining down…” Spike stopped, lost in the memory.
The fires burned non-stop through the night. No one put them out because they were fighting or fleeing, looking for sanctuary in a world turned upside down. It had been a demon paradise, evil let loose to do its will. Soldiers raping and slaughtering with glee, acting out an inhuman hate.
Spike shook his head, forcing those memories into the back of his mind. He could still feel the blood, sparking with life and power as it slid down his throat. Could still hear the screams of the women, the groans of the dying, the retort of the rifles. Nowhere to run, no one who could save you, might makes bloody right in action.
“She came to me,” Spike continued, not meeting the gaze that threatened to impale him. “Xin Zhen. She slipped out of the dark one night, walked up to me like it was a tea party instead of hell come to Earth. Told me that Guanyin offered mercy to all.
“I laughed,” Spike murmured. “Laughed and told her that mercy was for the weak. She smiled and said that everyone is weak.”
He could hear her voice even now, the words coming back to him as clearly as if she stood next to him every day. Her dark, dark eyes had drawn him in, swirling pools that refused to reflect his image. Staring into her and listening as the weakness invaded his body, making him something new.
‘Everyone is weak. You do not understand and this makes you weaker still. The mercy you did not have for my daughter I will give back to you. Find your strength in that.’
“She gave me…” Spike broke off, uncertain how to proceed. It sounded so ridiculous, even inside his own head. How could it sound like anything but a lie to this man? “She gave me back my soul.”
Chapter 7
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: A vampire with a soul comes to Sunnydale to help The Slayer. Can a demon ever atone?
A/N: Beta'd by the wonderful
noandwhere who really is always available and can I mention how much I love that? 1:00 a.m. EST here and whatever time it is in her neck of the woods and she's got it back to me in twenty minutes. What a champ! Oh, also written for tamingthemuse prompt 74-nowhere. Spike stood on the stone steps of the school, staring thoughtfully at the rows of glass and steel doors. The stones clung to the heat they’d soaked up during the sunny California day, the warmth rising up and flowing over his chilled body. He’d been here before. Another time, another place, but still on the outside and trying desperately to be heard.
“Missing the pleasures of the schoolroom?” a soft voice asked.
He flinched, a swift shudder that might pass unnoticed by anyone except her. She knew him, knew his weaknesses. Blood called to blood, souls not withstanding, and she would play on that as she always had before.
“Always something new to be learned,” he replied without turning around. He didn’t need to see her. Her face, delicate and fine as porcelain, was engraved in his memory.
“He’ll be here, you know,” Darla informed him. “Sooner or later, he’ll be here. What will you do then, William? Run and hide behind the humans? Do you think they’ll protect you from him once they know what you truly are? What, darling, not who; a vicious animal to be put down for the good of humanity.”
“Yeah,” Spike agreed. “ ‘M all that and more besides. ‘S what I was made, innit? And no, I won’t be hiding. Angelus wants me, he’ll be able to find me.”
“He’ll want you,” she assured him. “We want you. Always family, William. You can’t run from that.”
“I’m not running,” he murmured, but she was gone. Slipping off into the night that was their refuge and their playground. Theirs and not just hers, because he was no less damned than Darla.
Spike squared his shoulders and strode into the building, following the various signs that pointed around corners and down corridors towards the library. Walking in, the smells of parchment and leather washed over him, familiar old friends. The Watcher was here, his heartbeat an endless tidal rush overlaying the stillness.
“I’ve been re-reading the old diaries.” The Watcher’s words, cold and precise, hit Spike like a slap. “I study them, you know. So much that Buffy must know, must be able to do, in order to fulfill her destiny.”
Spike stood frozen, not daring to move. The other man stood across the room, a small book in one hand and a crossbow in the other. Spike trained his eyes on the wooden bolt, ready to jump. He didn’t want to hurt the Watcher, but he wasn’t about to go down quietly either.
“William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers,” Giles enunciated. “I must say, I never thought I’d meet such a notorious vampire. It’s interesting, your story. There’s quite a debate over your origins. Tell me, please, who is your Sire? Some sources claim Drusilla, others insist that you are the…progeny of none other than Angelus himself.”
“Not quite feeling like sharing at the moment,” Spike ground out. “Death threats don’t make for the most convivial atmosphere, mate.”
Giles narrowed his eyes, but didn’t lower the crossbow. He spoke again, the words clipped.
“You have killed two Slayers. However, I find no record of you feeding on humans after the death of Xin Rong in 1900,” Giles mused. “Yet you killed Nikki Wood. I must confess a certain….curiosity.”
“It…I was cursed,” Spike began falteringly. “Well, blessed actually, considering the source. Bloody hell! This is hard. I’m not…I don’t mean you any harm, Watcher. Not gonna kill you or your Slayer ‘less I’m forced to.”
“Forced to,” Giles repeated softly.
“Yeah,” Spike said. “The second Slayer, Nikki? I tried to explain, to help. She just attacked. I tried to incapacitate her, but it was her or me.”
“And this relates to your ‘blessing’ how?” Giles demanded, eyes hardening at the mention of the New York Slayer’s death.
“The first Slayer in China,” Spike told him, voice wavering. “After I…after, her Watcher or someone, I don’t know, told her mother. Priestess by the name of Xin Zhen at the temple in Tianjin. It was bloody murder in the streets those days, Boxer Rebellion in a fever pitch. Shot raining down…” Spike stopped, lost in the memory.
The fires burned non-stop through the night. No one put them out because they were fighting or fleeing, looking for sanctuary in a world turned upside down. It had been a demon paradise, evil let loose to do its will. Soldiers raping and slaughtering with glee, acting out an inhuman hate.
Spike shook his head, forcing those memories into the back of his mind. He could still feel the blood, sparking with life and power as it slid down his throat. Could still hear the screams of the women, the groans of the dying, the retort of the rifles. Nowhere to run, no one who could save you, might makes bloody right in action.
“She came to me,” Spike continued, not meeting the gaze that threatened to impale him. “Xin Zhen. She slipped out of the dark one night, walked up to me like it was a tea party instead of hell come to Earth. Told me that Guanyin offered mercy to all.
“I laughed,” Spike murmured. “Laughed and told her that mercy was for the weak. She smiled and said that everyone is weak.”
He could hear her voice even now, the words coming back to him as clearly as if she stood next to him every day. Her dark, dark eyes had drawn him in, swirling pools that refused to reflect his image. Staring into her and listening as the weakness invaded his body, making him something new.
‘Everyone is weak. You do not understand and this makes you weaker still. The mercy you did not have for my daughter I will give back to you. Find your strength in that.’
“She gave me…” Spike broke off, uncertain how to proceed. It sounded so ridiculous, even inside his own head. How could it sound like anything but a lie to this man? “She gave me back my soul.”
Chapter 7