Lovers' Meeting/Journey's End
Title Lovers' Meeting/Journey's End
Author Brutti ma buoni
Words 1000
Rating R
Warnings Distinctly Spike/Dru at times. Character deaths (some are Wishverse canon). Blood.
Prompt Drizzlydaze's Wishverse first meeting fic
Setting Wishverse AU - but not I think the same AU drizzlydaze was writing - unless you want it to be!
Spike hates the word Master. Makes him all shuddery-unhappy with his lot. Makes him want to rise up, overthrow, make it fucking clear that no one's in charge of Spike but Spike.
But there's very little he can do against the risen Heinrich Nest and his army of blood-heavy minions. Not till he's got his hands on Drusilla's sire and her cure, that is, and it takes him the best part of six months of bent-knee begging before he's allowed to 'play with the puppy'.
Even then, they won't let him kill Angelus outright, though the whiney bugger would at least be amusing then. Nope, old Heinrich-not-Master's got himself new playmates, and the redhead's positively flavour of the month, so Spikey doesn't get his choice of how this goes.
(Doesn't get many of his choices, to be honest. Pretty fucking sick of being a minion. It’s not his natural role.)
But it's worth it for Drusilla. So he tells himself, as he tends her fragile pallor. Totally worth it. Worth every spirit-crushing second of bowing his head, taking the crap that's dealt out. Till she's free and fixed and… Fixated.
Not on Spike. Nope. Drusilla, turns out, likes her guys with fruit-punch mouths and Master status.
Fuck.
So Spike's in a resoundingly filthy mood the day the factory is opened. The sort of mood that calls for rebellion.
Convenient, to find himself in the midst of a Slayer-led attack on the Master, then.
The Slayer's looking rough. Big scar he doesn't remember, cutting up her pretty lips. Big dark circles round her eyes, not all liner - suits her well enough, but it's not a healthy sign. Still, she's moving pretty well at the start, not reliant on that souled twat she's got alongside. Also, nice hair, and that vest shows off her arm definition.
Gratified, Spike watches Angelus dust, and the Master's face crinkle - insofar as it can crinkle more - in outrage at the mess this is making of his precious ceremony. But Slayer's not going to win, not with her lieutenants just some kids, plus a pile of dust.
Spike grabs a makeshift stake and starts laying about him. The first puff of dust, and the second, and the third - sweet sounds and smells of death. Oh yeah. He's still got it.
It should go against the grain to play on the Slayer's side, but, fuck it, it's fun. And it's not like vampires go in for blood oaths and eternal fidelity. (Dru certainly didn't. So what does anything matter?) It's not the first load of poxy vamps that he's dusted for the sake of making a point and salving his ego. Plus: healthy exercise. Can't let yourself get soft, dead though you may be. Not like he cares if the humans live. It's just Spike letting Spike out of his mental cage, after too fucking long.
But Spike's brain never stops, even while his body gets on with the pleasurably familiar business of undead slaughter. Coz there's no way this is going to end the way the Slayer hopes. (Assuming she does hope to survive and win, because she looks about beat to Spike.) There just isn't enough firepower on her side, and even though Spike would love to claim he can down fourscore and ten of your best vamp fighters, in the end he knows with pressure of numbers, they'll have to fall back.
Red dies, and her little boyfriend. That's nice. If Spike hadn't just slain a good handful of the Master's other favourites, he reckons he'd be slipping neatly up the pecking order right now. But, as it is, he's gonna need a backup plan.
He can't get near enough to fight Nest himself. But the Slayer gets there. Spike watches, slightly horrified, as she doesn’t get the better of the Master. She's done, he can see it even before Nest gives that fatal jerk to her pretty head. Bollocks. He'll never kill her now. Seems unfitting. Also, it leaves Spike with some immediate, not to say pressing, problems.
Well. Spike could run (or try). Or, and this frankly seems a little more likely, he could die, as the minions close in. But the Slayer's fall cleared just enough of a pathway for Spike to get through. He's trampling her corpse to do it, but he reckons she'd understand and approve. Got to make her sacrifice worthwhile.
His 'stake' is a couple of feet long, and with the anger of betrayal, frustration and loss, Spike shoves it through Nest's leathery chest.
There's a little confusion, then. What with Nest not really dusting like your average vamp, and the minions having some long moments of existential uncertainty about whose minions they are now. But Spike's managed many a gang before now and he establishes who's the boss pretty quick. Gets them out of the factory - feels far too much like the old Master's territory now, and he ponders whether a nice cleansing fire mightn't be the answer.
He's wandering the antiseptic space, feeling a little rumbly and in need of snack food, when he realises some is still available.
She absolutely should be dead. If not outright from the broken neck, then suffocated by her near-total paralysis. But that's Slayers for you. Fucking hard to kill. She's waiting for him open-eyed, like she knew he'd be the one to get her in the end. She knows his rep, sure enough. And she knows he wanted this.
He thinks he sees consent in her eyes. She doesn't want to live, even if maybe someday Slayer healing could get her back and walking. Like he thought before, she's done.
But, a moment of startled realisation, Spike doesn't want her to be done. He'll miss her.
Luckily, there's an obvious solution. He rips into her neck, soft golden skin no protection against his fangs. Sweet, she is, and powerful. Blood the old-fashioned way, and all the richer for it.
He frees his mouth, reluctantly, as her heartbeat slows. Opens a vein in his wrist and feeds it to her. "Take it. Take it and live. It's a better world, my way."
She swallows shallowly, he drinks deep, and she dies.
But not for long.
***
Author Brutti ma buoni
Words 1000
Rating R
Warnings Distinctly Spike/Dru at times. Character deaths (some are Wishverse canon). Blood.
Prompt Drizzlydaze's Wishverse first meeting fic
Setting Wishverse AU - but not I think the same AU drizzlydaze was writing - unless you want it to be!
Spike hates the word Master. Makes him all shuddery-unhappy with his lot. Makes him want to rise up, overthrow, make it fucking clear that no one's in charge of Spike but Spike.
But there's very little he can do against the risen Heinrich Nest and his army of blood-heavy minions. Not till he's got his hands on Drusilla's sire and her cure, that is, and it takes him the best part of six months of bent-knee begging before he's allowed to 'play with the puppy'.
Even then, they won't let him kill Angelus outright, though the whiney bugger would at least be amusing then. Nope, old Heinrich-not-Master's got himself new playmates, and the redhead's positively flavour of the month, so Spikey doesn't get his choice of how this goes.
(Doesn't get many of his choices, to be honest. Pretty fucking sick of being a minion. It’s not his natural role.)
But it's worth it for Drusilla. So he tells himself, as he tends her fragile pallor. Totally worth it. Worth every spirit-crushing second of bowing his head, taking the crap that's dealt out. Till she's free and fixed and… Fixated.
Not on Spike. Nope. Drusilla, turns out, likes her guys with fruit-punch mouths and Master status.
Fuck.
So Spike's in a resoundingly filthy mood the day the factory is opened. The sort of mood that calls for rebellion.
Convenient, to find himself in the midst of a Slayer-led attack on the Master, then.
The Slayer's looking rough. Big scar he doesn't remember, cutting up her pretty lips. Big dark circles round her eyes, not all liner - suits her well enough, but it's not a healthy sign. Still, she's moving pretty well at the start, not reliant on that souled twat she's got alongside. Also, nice hair, and that vest shows off her arm definition.
Gratified, Spike watches Angelus dust, and the Master's face crinkle - insofar as it can crinkle more - in outrage at the mess this is making of his precious ceremony. But Slayer's not going to win, not with her lieutenants just some kids, plus a pile of dust.
Spike grabs a makeshift stake and starts laying about him. The first puff of dust, and the second, and the third - sweet sounds and smells of death. Oh yeah. He's still got it.
It should go against the grain to play on the Slayer's side, but, fuck it, it's fun. And it's not like vampires go in for blood oaths and eternal fidelity. (Dru certainly didn't. So what does anything matter?) It's not the first load of poxy vamps that he's dusted for the sake of making a point and salving his ego. Plus: healthy exercise. Can't let yourself get soft, dead though you may be. Not like he cares if the humans live. It's just Spike letting Spike out of his mental cage, after too fucking long.
But Spike's brain never stops, even while his body gets on with the pleasurably familiar business of undead slaughter. Coz there's no way this is going to end the way the Slayer hopes. (Assuming she does hope to survive and win, because she looks about beat to Spike.) There just isn't enough firepower on her side, and even though Spike would love to claim he can down fourscore and ten of your best vamp fighters, in the end he knows with pressure of numbers, they'll have to fall back.
Red dies, and her little boyfriend. That's nice. If Spike hadn't just slain a good handful of the Master's other favourites, he reckons he'd be slipping neatly up the pecking order right now. But, as it is, he's gonna need a backup plan.
He can't get near enough to fight Nest himself. But the Slayer gets there. Spike watches, slightly horrified, as she doesn’t get the better of the Master. She's done, he can see it even before Nest gives that fatal jerk to her pretty head. Bollocks. He'll never kill her now. Seems unfitting. Also, it leaves Spike with some immediate, not to say pressing, problems.
Well. Spike could run (or try). Or, and this frankly seems a little more likely, he could die, as the minions close in. But the Slayer's fall cleared just enough of a pathway for Spike to get through. He's trampling her corpse to do it, but he reckons she'd understand and approve. Got to make her sacrifice worthwhile.
His 'stake' is a couple of feet long, and with the anger of betrayal, frustration and loss, Spike shoves it through Nest's leathery chest.
There's a little confusion, then. What with Nest not really dusting like your average vamp, and the minions having some long moments of existential uncertainty about whose minions they are now. But Spike's managed many a gang before now and he establishes who's the boss pretty quick. Gets them out of the factory - feels far too much like the old Master's territory now, and he ponders whether a nice cleansing fire mightn't be the answer.
He's wandering the antiseptic space, feeling a little rumbly and in need of snack food, when he realises some is still available.
She absolutely should be dead. If not outright from the broken neck, then suffocated by her near-total paralysis. But that's Slayers for you. Fucking hard to kill. She's waiting for him open-eyed, like she knew he'd be the one to get her in the end. She knows his rep, sure enough. And she knows he wanted this.
He thinks he sees consent in her eyes. She doesn't want to live, even if maybe someday Slayer healing could get her back and walking. Like he thought before, she's done.
But, a moment of startled realisation, Spike doesn't want her to be done. He'll miss her.
Luckily, there's an obvious solution. He rips into her neck, soft golden skin no protection against his fangs. Sweet, she is, and powerful. Blood the old-fashioned way, and all the richer for it.
He frees his mouth, reluctantly, as her heartbeat slows. Opens a vein in his wrist and feeds it to her. "Take it. Take it and live. It's a better world, my way."
She swallows shallowly, he drinks deep, and she dies.
But not for long.
***