Days in the Sun
January 6th, 2018 - History (3)
The negotiations had been short and to the point. Will and Lisa had promised not to ever try to read the black journals again, and Spike knew he could believe their oath, because neither ever promised anything they didn’t sincerely mean. In exchange, he had agreed to answer any question they could come up with about his vampire past. Not that he particularly wanted to talk to them about that, but it was certainly a better solution than letting them read his journals, and much better than letting them wonder and piece together horror stories from the little they already knew.
On the date and time agreed, as Jay was spending the evening and night at the Witches’ place, the rest of the family gathered in the dining room, the kids on one side of the table, their parents facing them.
For some reason, Spike couldn’t shake the idea that he was on the point of being judged, and it was leaving a very unpleasant taste in his mouth. Judged by his own children. For the first time in a long, very long time, he was nervous as he wondered what the sentence would be. He had regretted very few things he had done since he had been turned, but right now, as the kids were about to start throwing questions at him, he suddenly wished he didn’t have so many things in his past that humans would find objectionable.
As they all settled around the table, Buffy could easily see the kids’ excitement. They had always been discouraged, so far at least, to talk about anything relating to vampires or demons, mostly for fear that they would let slip something out in the wrong company. But now, they were free to ask to their hearts’ content. Any question about his vampire days, Spike had somewhat grudgingly agreed. That was certainly why he was so nervous. She doubted the two teens could notice it, but to her it was obvious. Slight lines at the corners of his eyes. The barest touch of flickering gold in the too dark blue of his gaze. The almost unnoticeable pinch of his lips. The way he was playing mindlessly with a pen. This was one of these times she knew he would have given the soul he didn’t have for a cigarette.
“So, I’m starting,” Lisa said brightly, checking her list of questions in front of her. “Are you really one hundred and sixty four?”
There was a slight pause, and as she cast a glance at Spike Buffy could see that this was not at all what he had expected. He relaxed slightly.
“Nope. I’m only one hundred and thirty seven at last count. But that’s already pretty old for a vamp, especially one living so close to the Slayer.”
He winked at Buffy at he said so, and she shook her head, grinning at his cocky attitude.
“But the book said you were made a vampire in 1880,” Lisa insisted, “and that you were twenty six, so…”
“These twenty six years don’t count, luv,” Spike interrupted gently.
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “That’s just the way it works.”
“OK, my turn,” William jumped in before his sister could continue on that path. “When did you stop killing people?”
The pen in Spike’s hands bent to the point that Buffy thought it was going to snap, but the vampire got a hold on himself. An easy question first, then straight to the core of the matter.
“When was I forced to stop killing or when did I choose to stop killing?” he asked with a deceptively calm tone.
“Uh… both? And who forced you to stop, anyway?”
Will threw a furtive glance at Buffy, and it was clear what he thought the answer to his question would be.
“In 1999, a bunch of soldiers shoved a microchip in my brain that prevented me from hurting any human. ‘Couldn’t even think of hurting anyone without getting a headache. I got rid of it in 2001 and that’s when I made the choice by myself.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise your mother would have had to kill me. And I couldn’t do that to her.”
Smiling softly, Buffy took one of her husband’s hands in hers and held it tight. He looked at her sideways for a few seconds, giving her something that was half a smirk, half a loving smile.
“Is that when you two broke up?” Lisa asked, pensive. “When you got the chip out?”
Again, Buffy and Spike shared a look, this time a puzzled one.
“We never broke up,” Spike answered at last.
“But it says in the book that mom had left you when you started writing and that your chip was just out,” Lisa said matter of factly.
She hadn’t even finished reading the first volume before it got too hard for her, but Lisa certainly seemed to remember well what she had read.
“I left London,” Buffy intervened for the first time in the conversation, “because I was afraid your father would start killing to feed and I knew I couldn’t have made myself stop him. And of course he did the exact opposite thing I expected.”
He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb running lightly over her skin. These particular demons between them had been slain long ago.
“Did you two ever fight? I mean, as in trying to kill each other?” Will asked suddenly.
Spike let out a short chuckle, and Buffy couldn’t help grinning.
“A few times,” the vampire said at last, clearly amused.
Will’s features were suddenly very somber, and Buffy stopped smiling just as Spike added, very serious now:
“That was before we fell in love. Vampire, Slayer, that was what we were supposed to do. Dance until one of us fell. Except that even then neither of us ever wanted to finish the kill. But there were a few close calls, on both sides.”
Slowly, William nodded. “It’s kinda weird to know your parents tried to kill each other,” he said quietly. “Did you ever meet another Slayer before mom?”
“Hey, it’s my turn,” Lisa protested half-heartedly, giving her brother a nasty glare. “I’ll let it pass only because I want to know also.”
“Two,” Spike said blankly.
“Two?” Will repeated.
“I met two Slayers before Buffy.”
“And what happened?” Lisa asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
Spike tilted his head slightly as he considered the two teens for a few seconds.
“What do you think happened?” he said finally. “I killed them.”
Silence fell on the room, and as Spike’s hold on her hand tightened imperceptibly, Buffy couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in her children’s heads. They knew vampires killed. They had known before today that Spike had killed, long before they were born. Did it make any difference that among his victims were two Slayers? Was it different because she was a Slayer herself?
“Slayers die,” Buffy felt compelled to intrude. “These two would have died at another vamp’s hands if not at Spike’s. And he has tried to make up for it.”
A brief frown passed on Spike’s face, as it always did when it was question of making up for his killing years. Just a second more of silence, and Lisa resumed the questioning.
“What happened to Drusilla?”
A muscle twitched in Spike’s jaw, the only sign that the question touched him, as he replied in a perfectly neutral voice that she was dead.
“Who was that?” William asked, puzzled.
“Someone I loved for a long time.”
Spike’s eyes flickered to Buffy, and she gave him a weak smile, hoping he could find some support in it. There was a short pause, the two kids seemingly catching that the subject wasn’t exactly safe, until the next question came.
“How did you meet mom?”
Spike wasn’t reacting, and after giving him a quick glance Buffy answered.
“At the Bronze. Your father watched me stake a vamp and then announced he would be back to kill me later. And the same week he crashed parents’ night at my school. Didn’t make such a good first impression on your grandma.”
That brought a fluttering smile to his lips, as he seemed to snap out of his thoughts.
“Joyce loved me,” he said smugly with a smirk directed at Buffy. “She was just like you, hit first, talk later.”
It was a struggle for Buffy not to smack him for that, but she realized it would just prove his point. But he would pay later.
“What about your parents?” Will asked Spike, oblivious to the play between Buffy and him. “What were they like?”
The tension that had seemed to melt was suddenly back full force as Spike directed a sharp gaze at his son.
“That’s not part of the game,” he said, his voice a tad too harsh. “I said I’d answer any question about my vampire life, nothing else.”
“Why not?” Lisa objected, just as her brother protested too.
“My human life has no link whatsoever with who I am now,” he explained, the tension in his voice barely contained. “Ask something else.”
“But why can’t we ask about your parents?” Will pleaded, visibly annoyed. “They were our grandparents too and we don’t even know their names. Why can’t you...”
Will’s voice trailed off as Spike stood abruptly, letting go of Buffy’s hand in the process.
“Henry and Anne,” he said in a completely inexpressive voice. “And since you can’t play by the rules, I guess the game is over.”
With that, he strode out, never glancing back. Soon, a door could be heard banging shut, and Buffy was startled by the sound just as much as her children. What the hell had just happened? One second, everything was going just fine, and the next he was off in a furious mood. All that for two names? She had asked about his human life, a few times, and never got a straight answer out of him, but he had never thrown a tantrum about it. She wasn’t sure whether to go to him or not. He certainly had seemed like he needed some time to cool off, and she didn’t want to give him the impression that she was pressuring him. On the other hand, she hated to leave him alone when he was so upset.
Spike didn’t bother with tape and started pounding on the punching bag seconds after he had reached the basement. Mindlessly, he abused the device, unaware of the moment his knuckles started bleeding, pouring into the repetitive blows too much restrained energy, tension and pain. He hated having left the table and the three humans so abruptly, but it had all suddenly become too much to bear. There were many, many things they could have asked about his past, many questions he would have answered even knowing they wouldn’t enjoy his replies. Why couldn’t they respect the one restriction he had set?
And why was the pain still so fresh after so many years?
The characters and names used in these stories do not belong to me. All copyrights remain with Fox and Mutant Enemy. No profit is made from this fanfiction.