Fanfiction: On Souls
Title: On Souls
Author: bendingwind
Notes: [Buffy the Vampire Slayer | T/PG-13 | 1054 words | swearing, canon character death]
Characters: Spike, Buffy/Spike
Summary: Spike on Buffy, what she meant, and the matter of souls, during the summer when Buffy was dead. Oneshot for my word challenge.
S’like lookin’ in two directions, see? On the one hand, I’ve got Drusilla. Supposed to be the love of my life and all. They were mockin’ me, sayin’ nasty things about my poety-it was pretty bad, give it a hundred years and then look back-and Drusilla found me. She understood. She saw what I was inside, how much higher I was than the idiots who liked to jest over my poetry. Reckon that’s why she turned me-saw I was better’n them, fixed me up so no one could argue with that. Brought out the best of me.
Dru gave me everything I ever wanted, made me powerful, strong, all the things I used to write about. Made me who I am. I love her, honest to God.
Sometimes I want to cry, when I think that maybe I just love her because she led me to Buffy.
Girl’s got gorgeous hair, what can I say?
Had gorgeous hair. Buffy had gorgeous hair. She’s dead now, see? Jumped off some inexplicable construction tower to save a little sister that didn’t even exist. Ought to be angrier about that, but I’m not. Instead, I admire her.
Stupid, isn’t it?
Guess it makes sense that she’d die laughing in my face, figuratively speaking. I wasn’t ever good enough for her. Only stopped killing ‘cause I had to, stupid chip in my head, making my brain hurt. A soul courtesy of technology. Of course she wouldn’t look twice at me. Stupid robot didn’t help-that wasn’t one of my better ideas, come to think of it. Helpful now, when we’ve got to pretend Buffy’s alive to keep Dawn safe-keep the whole city, safe, really, makes you wonder how hard Buffy worked when she was…-and so far no one has noticed that it’s just a stupid robot that says stupid things.
This one thinks I framed the world. Sometimes I can’t tell if my heart’s breaking or mending when she says all that. Nice to hear it, you know, like something out of a dream. But see, the thing about dreaming, is that you’ve got to wake up. Never liked sleeping as much as I do now, back before she was gone.
Jumped off a fucking tower.
Funny, that. Had to jump off because of her blood. Her and Dawn, the only two people in the world with the blood that could save the world, and so of course she jumped, to protect her little sister. I always wanted her blood, first ‘cause she was a slayer, then ‘cause she was… Buffy. Buffy with her stupid name and stupid hair, Buffy who defeated and ridiculed and shamed me. Loved her anyway, didn’t I?
Guess that makes me the stupid one.
But we keep on going. Hunting demons, monsters, vampires… silly, isn’t it? But killing is killing and I’ll take what I can get. It always did make me feel better, the sensation of slick warm blood on my hands, in my teeth. Not even my chip can change that, so I’ll take what I can get. Killing makes it easier to forget her, just for a second. Makes it easier to move on. Only for a little while, just a bit of forgetting, but like I said-I’ll take what I can get. Better be at peace for an hour a night than never at all.
Dunno if my real dreams, the ones that come when I’m sleeping, are better than the daydreams. The daydreams are mostly gone now, because it’s impossible to choose to dream once the subject of your dream is gone forever, least for me. But the dreams at night… those never go away. Night after night, I’m strong enough, fast enough, and Dawn’s blood never falls and Buffy never jumps. All about blood. Always about blood. In my dreams blood rains down around me, beautiful scarlet blood, and I want to cry because there should never have been any need for her blood in the salvation of the world. Should’ve stopped that black-eyed creep from cutting Dawn in the first place, should’ve never let her go up there, should’ve… done so many things. Everything should have been different. She should be here, watching the telly with Dawn, not me. She should be here, hunting down evil, as only she can, not me. S’always me, though. Getting ruined by love. Love’s eternal bitch, living a too-long life slaving away after some woman or other.
Worst part is, I don’t even mind.
And that part is completely absurd, yeah? Don’t even have a real soul but all I do is fall madly in love. I wonder how much of a man is in his soul, eh? Because, any way you look at it, I’m only just barely different from how I was when I was a man. Less cowardice, less of a conscience, but otherwise not much changed. Pisses me off, that. If I’m going to hell when I die, I’d like to be a bit less of a slave on way, yeah? Makes me want to throw things.
Wouldn’t be a good idea, that, not with Dawn in the room. She thinks I’m coping okay. I’d rather she kept on thinking that, because sometimes I think I’m the only thing holding her together. Willow and Xander and Anya-they loved Buffy, but she wasn’t the center of their world, not the way she was for me and Dawnie. She didn’t mean everything to them, the way she does to us. She wasn’t the only thing they were still hanging on for.
We haven’t got an anchor, the little sister and I, without her around. So we’re just clinging blindly to each other and hoping that we don’t fall to pieces. Hoping that, maybe, with time, we might just heal. Just a little. Never completely, but just that little bit.
I’d like to say I’m haunted by my own demons without her around, but that sounds stupid. Not just a bit melodramatic, but, you know…. well, I’m a demon. So it’s hard to say I’m haunted by my own demons, because what would a demon have with internal demons? We aren’t supposed to have souls.
So what lets me love her with all my being, then, if I haven’t got a soul?
A/N: Wanted to try a piece with no dialogue but a lot of characterization, so I settled on a Spike monologue set during the summer when Buffy was dead. Just 'cause it's easiest to imagine him monologuing during that time for me. :3 Inspired by the word "anopsia", in yet another very round-about manner of thinking that I have no intention of explaining. I love BtVS, but this is actually the first time I've written fanfic for it. D:
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created all characters and situations involved. This is fanfiction, and I am not making any profit from writing and/or posting it.
Author: bendingwind
Notes: [Buffy the Vampire Slayer | T/PG-13 | 1054 words | swearing, canon character death]
Characters: Spike, Buffy/Spike
Summary: Spike on Buffy, what she meant, and the matter of souls, during the summer when Buffy was dead. Oneshot for my word challenge.
S’like lookin’ in two directions, see? On the one hand, I’ve got Drusilla. Supposed to be the love of my life and all. They were mockin’ me, sayin’ nasty things about my poety-it was pretty bad, give it a hundred years and then look back-and Drusilla found me. She understood. She saw what I was inside, how much higher I was than the idiots who liked to jest over my poetry. Reckon that’s why she turned me-saw I was better’n them, fixed me up so no one could argue with that. Brought out the best of me.
Dru gave me everything I ever wanted, made me powerful, strong, all the things I used to write about. Made me who I am. I love her, honest to God.
Sometimes I want to cry, when I think that maybe I just love her because she led me to Buffy.
Girl’s got gorgeous hair, what can I say?
Had gorgeous hair. Buffy had gorgeous hair. She’s dead now, see? Jumped off some inexplicable construction tower to save a little sister that didn’t even exist. Ought to be angrier about that, but I’m not. Instead, I admire her.
Stupid, isn’t it?
Guess it makes sense that she’d die laughing in my face, figuratively speaking. I wasn’t ever good enough for her. Only stopped killing ‘cause I had to, stupid chip in my head, making my brain hurt. A soul courtesy of technology. Of course she wouldn’t look twice at me. Stupid robot didn’t help-that wasn’t one of my better ideas, come to think of it. Helpful now, when we’ve got to pretend Buffy’s alive to keep Dawn safe-keep the whole city, safe, really, makes you wonder how hard Buffy worked when she was…-and so far no one has noticed that it’s just a stupid robot that says stupid things.
This one thinks I framed the world. Sometimes I can’t tell if my heart’s breaking or mending when she says all that. Nice to hear it, you know, like something out of a dream. But see, the thing about dreaming, is that you’ve got to wake up. Never liked sleeping as much as I do now, back before she was gone.
Jumped off a fucking tower.
Funny, that. Had to jump off because of her blood. Her and Dawn, the only two people in the world with the blood that could save the world, and so of course she jumped, to protect her little sister. I always wanted her blood, first ‘cause she was a slayer, then ‘cause she was… Buffy. Buffy with her stupid name and stupid hair, Buffy who defeated and ridiculed and shamed me. Loved her anyway, didn’t I?
Guess that makes me the stupid one.
But we keep on going. Hunting demons, monsters, vampires… silly, isn’t it? But killing is killing and I’ll take what I can get. It always did make me feel better, the sensation of slick warm blood on my hands, in my teeth. Not even my chip can change that, so I’ll take what I can get. Killing makes it easier to forget her, just for a second. Makes it easier to move on. Only for a little while, just a bit of forgetting, but like I said-I’ll take what I can get. Better be at peace for an hour a night than never at all.
Dunno if my real dreams, the ones that come when I’m sleeping, are better than the daydreams. The daydreams are mostly gone now, because it’s impossible to choose to dream once the subject of your dream is gone forever, least for me. But the dreams at night… those never go away. Night after night, I’m strong enough, fast enough, and Dawn’s blood never falls and Buffy never jumps. All about blood. Always about blood. In my dreams blood rains down around me, beautiful scarlet blood, and I want to cry because there should never have been any need for her blood in the salvation of the world. Should’ve stopped that black-eyed creep from cutting Dawn in the first place, should’ve never let her go up there, should’ve… done so many things. Everything should have been different. She should be here, watching the telly with Dawn, not me. She should be here, hunting down evil, as only she can, not me. S’always me, though. Getting ruined by love. Love’s eternal bitch, living a too-long life slaving away after some woman or other.
Worst part is, I don’t even mind.
And that part is completely absurd, yeah? Don’t even have a real soul but all I do is fall madly in love. I wonder how much of a man is in his soul, eh? Because, any way you look at it, I’m only just barely different from how I was when I was a man. Less cowardice, less of a conscience, but otherwise not much changed. Pisses me off, that. If I’m going to hell when I die, I’d like to be a bit less of a slave on way, yeah? Makes me want to throw things.
Wouldn’t be a good idea, that, not with Dawn in the room. She thinks I’m coping okay. I’d rather she kept on thinking that, because sometimes I think I’m the only thing holding her together. Willow and Xander and Anya-they loved Buffy, but she wasn’t the center of their world, not the way she was for me and Dawnie. She didn’t mean everything to them, the way she does to us. She wasn’t the only thing they were still hanging on for.
We haven’t got an anchor, the little sister and I, without her around. So we’re just clinging blindly to each other and hoping that we don’t fall to pieces. Hoping that, maybe, with time, we might just heal. Just a little. Never completely, but just that little bit.
I’d like to say I’m haunted by my own demons without her around, but that sounds stupid. Not just a bit melodramatic, but, you know…. well, I’m a demon. So it’s hard to say I’m haunted by my own demons, because what would a demon have with internal demons? We aren’t supposed to have souls.
So what lets me love her with all my being, then, if I haven’t got a soul?
A/N: Wanted to try a piece with no dialogue but a lot of characterization, so I settled on a Spike monologue set during the summer when Buffy was dead. Just 'cause it's easiest to imagine him monologuing during that time for me. :3 Inspired by the word "anopsia", in yet another very round-about manner of thinking that I have no intention of explaining. I love BtVS, but this is actually the first time I've written fanfic for it. D:
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created all characters and situations involved. This is fanfiction, and I am not making any profit from writing and/or posting it.