The Mezzanine (deird1) wrote in still_grrr,
The Mezzanine

118 fic - Illusion

Title: Illusion
Author: deird1
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1350
Prompt: 118 (Spike, season 7)
Character: Spike


Mad mad William is mad
entirely gone to the fairies with nothing left standing, poor boy poor poor William is going going gone to ground underground is hiding – can I hide? or will they find me? hiding hiding in the dark, all alone in the dark it's gone the light is gone but here here here inside mixed in, there's nothing left but up and down and some way to tell the two apart
not apart any longer
it's all been pushed together, screaming all the screaming screaming sobbing crying oh please God make it stop
Someone's been a bad, bad boy.
No. Not me.
It couldn't have been, but it was, it was, oh please, I can't stay here. Tell me it isn't true.
Not today, me, now, ever, what have I become?

Darla smiled. “So innocent still, my darling child. When will you ever understand?” She stood, and walked slowly across the basement, reciting: “The vampire is a noble creature, capable of much love. And much more interesting evil. He is inventive, cruel, malicious, exciting… and really in need of a new hairstyle. Don't you ever look in a mirror?”

Aren't you dead? I thought you were. Of course, dead, you're dead, we're all dead, but dust and dead aren't all wrapped up tight anymore. Wrapped up, wrapped up just like Christmas. Such very pretty trees, and lights! and laughter, turkey, carols, what is the matter with me?
Get a grip, moron.

He sits, head in hands, and rocks – barely noticing the water dripping onto the floor from a busted pipe.
It's not all that important, really, just a few drips. Dripping away, they drip, drip, drip drips are dropping til the water fills up everywhere, everything, flooding us out, and there's-
He moves away from the puddle, muttering.

Dark. Night. No – basement. Underneath. Hiding. Wrong. Bad. Vampire. Bad vampire. No biscuit. Bad. Evil. Different. Different from the others. New. Spark. Engine. Girl. Plan. Girl. Different. New. Plan. Spark. Plan. Girl.
Does he really think she'll forgive him?
Well, that was the whole point, wasn't it? The reason, the reason why, she was always the reason. The very- the most- the only- the loveliest- and he will always love her. Except he hadn’t he didn’t he couldn’t it all flew away and all there was left is hurt and hate and nothing! nothing to do, nothing left he did it destroyed her all to nothing to death destruction and betrayal and his fault always his fault

“You really are an idiot.” Angel was leaning against the wall, arms folded, and that same infuriating smirk on his face. “You really thought you could change? Fix it all, create a new Spike for the new millennium, and maybe she’d actually love you? In your dreams.”

Dreams. So many dreams. Dreams, hopes, ambitions, all together. Built up in a pile, so nice, so beautiful. But they never stay. They all come tumbling down. They break. They fall and break like china, china, can’t speak chinese, Slayer, sorry. Have to kill you instead – and Angel’s still talking. Why’s he talking? time to listen.
Spike looks up and yes, Angel’s still there.

“Truth is, Spikey, you’re exactly what you’ve always been. A monster. I ought to know – after all, I made you. You’re mine.”

I’m mine? No, yours, his – third person, singular, possessive, that’s the way. His, hers, its, no apostrophe, that means it is as in it is a cat or it is a fireplace or it is a monstrous vampire crouching in a basement with blood all over his hands blood everywhere so much blood
Tastes delicious, doesn’t it? Blood is life…
No! No, I can’t. I won’t. Not anymore, I’m different, I’m going to be new.

“Oh, baby, no. You don’t get to choose – you don’t get to change.” She knelt down in front of him, and it was her, Red’s girlfriend. “You’re evil, disgusting, repellent…” She smiled, and continued gently, “It’s okay, I don’t mind. After all, it’s not your fault.”

Not my fault. No-one’s fault. Poor Spike is all alone and faultless, little, lost, innocent… no. Innocence is pure, good, shining, and entirely the wrong concept
wrong as anything ever was
all of it so wrong
and she’s not really here
she’s trying to trick me
That makes no sense. How can she trick you if she’s not here?

He shuts his eyes tightly so that he can’t see, and crouches in the corner, banging his head against the wall in the hope that she’ll stop being there.

Not real, nothing – all of it, so much nothing, nothing but
pain torture death laughter glee
oh God what have I done?
I can’t
I did
I could be more
I could choose

“Well, yes, you could.” Tara’s voice, soft and sweet, kept talking so beguilingly. “You could choose to die – that might work. It’s always an option. But really, why would you?”

Poor William. Poor, poor William. Poor…

“The fact is, evil is fun. Violence is fun.” Her face rippled and became… a man. From Boston or somewhere else, he’d never got his name. “Admit it – didn’t you have fun ripping my throat out?” His eyes were so near. “Remember my smell – my taste? You enjoyed that kill so much. And part of you still does.”

the grab, the snapping bones, the screams, the fear, the wonderful stinking fear, the thrill, the rush, better than the rides at Disneyland with the rollercoasters and the singing dolls and the spinning cups spinning spinning cups spinning round and round and round

“Pain. Anger. Violence. Hate. It’s everything …which is good, because it’s all you get.” He laughed, and moved away.

Upside down.
It’s all back to front, inside out, and I enjoyed it.
No. Not this. Please. Why am I…

“Oh, Spike. You’re pathetic.”

He looks up – and Joyce was standing there, looking disappointed.
She shook her head. “You keep running around trying so hard, and all the time avoiding the real question. And it’s all so simple, when you get right down to it.”

Wow, he’s really got a thing about mothers, doesn’t he?

Yes. Simple. So very simple. Good and evil – pick a side. Eeny, meeny, miney…

“It’s easier than that.” A little girl was sitting on a pipe nearby, swinging her legs back and forth. She grinned at him. “Easy-peasy. You’re evil. And that’s that.”

I’m evil. And that’s that. Evil evil evil evil evil
What? No. That’s not – is it?
…and what do they mean I’ve got a thing about mothers?
evil evil evilly evil evillest

“You can’t help it. What you are is what you ever will be. It’s out of your control.”

No. No, that’s-
I didn’t-
That was before, when up and down meant the same thing, before it-
I took control. I changed it. I made it all-

“No, silly.” She smirked at him, and started walking over, tauntingly. He just watches. “You didn’t change anything. You can’t. You have no power.”

But I changed. I became

“You’re silly, and weak…”

I won.

“…and feeble, and small…”

I was new.

“…and quite ridiculous…”

Her eyes – so taunting and cruel.
Her skin, so white and fresh.
her neck so appealing

“…you’re nothing. Not anymore.”

she’s lying! lying wrong lying I can I did I will I have power

“You?” She laughed. “You don’t even have the power to hurt me. Can’t kill anymore.”


“Can’t hurt anymore.”


“Can’t drink anymore.”


“You can’t do anything.”


FangsAngerHunger He snarls and grabs her to crush and kill and feed and DESTROY HE CAN HE WILL HE IS

…she melts away.
Nothing. Nothing there. Nothing at all.

And he…

He almost…

You were going to kill her.

oh God

Angel raised an eyebrow. “See? The same old Spike. You never learn.”

never-ever-ever… but no! I must! I will.
I will become something more.
I will be what she needs.

I will be what I should be.

Buffy laughed at him. “No,” she said. “You won’t.”

Tags: 118, deird1, fic
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