Fall From Heaven

Spike was wrapped in a warm, white light, cradled like a new-born baby. He knew he was safe, loved, wanted, but he had no memories of who or what he was.

Lazily, he floated through white, puffy clouds. He realized that he had no body. Am I supposed to have one? he thought to himself. No! Better not think about it, he silently chastised. His attention was distracted by a grouping of lights. He moved closer and closer, never quite making it to the grouping. Frustration gripped him as he tried to concentrate on getting to the lights. Nothing that he did moved him closer, instead he moved further and further away.

Suddenly, he fell. The warm white light still followed him, wrapping him in comfort, but he was suddenly frightened. He began to fall faster and the light around him started to fade.

Pain.

Loneliness.

Lost.

Cold.

Despair.

He should be somewhere, but didn’t know where or how to get there. Spwas was being pulled toward something, down to… what? Images began to appear to him. Small glimpses of what was. Evil, hideous acts plagued him. Spike was so cold, so very cold.

A name came to him. “Buffy! Buffy! he cried to himself. Thoughts were interrupted as pain gripped him again. The white warm light that had cradled him was just a memory now.

Spike’s descent slowed down again. Memories flooded his mind. Terrible, horrible events floated to the front of his awareness. I did these things, he remembered. I hurt people. Memories of blinding sunlight, burning-pain, love, happiness, death and release swirled around him.

How?

Where was he, heaven, hell, limbo, trapped in a lamp? It didn’t matter, did it? If I did those things that I had been shown, shouldn’t I be tortured for eternity?

“Spike!” A voice called to him as he drifted downward. The voice was familiar, but he ignored it, afraid that it might be the First Evil.

Buffy distracted him from the voice. Not that she was there with him, but he was allowed glimpsf hef her life. He watched as Buffy skipped stones on the beach with Little Bit and Xander. The next out-take, Buffy was sitting in an outdoor café in broad daylight talking and laughing with Willow. Then finally he was shown Buffy happily training a new slayer on the proper use of a cross bow. He didn’t know who he was or who she was, but he was content knowing she was smiling, happy and alive. That’s what mattered, nothing else.

Spike stopped moving downward. A young familiar woman dressed in a blue silk gown drifted near him. Her golden locks flowed comfortably past her shoulders. He felt an unhappy connection with her, remembering her from the collection of reflections of what may have been his past.

“Hello, my dear, sweet William.”

“Who are you?” he asked, frightened, not wanting to know the answer.

“Don’t be frightened, dear boy.”

“Do I know you?” He asked, uncertain.

“Yes.”

“It’s all about family, William. It’s all about family.” The woman disappeared and he fell again. At least I have a name now. That was good, he told himself.

Again he was plagued by the horrors that four people committed, no, monsters, he corrected himself.

Tearing pain ripped through him again.

“I.AM.WILLIAM.” he screeched, knowing that no one could hear him.

A loud heartbeat passed around him. It drummed out a steady, flowing rhythm. Many voices buzzed and echoed around him.

“It’s always about blood. Burning in you. It’s about family. Family, Spike, it’s always about family. William. Family. Blood.”

Suddenly the heartbeat and voices stopped. Peaceful images came to him.

Buffy walked in the park, in direct sunlight, holding hands with Dawn. She was smiling, always smiling. He knew who she was; she was his center, his heat, his soul.

The woman came back to him.

“Are you ready?” she asked with sorrow in her voice.

“Ready for what?”

Burning pain ripped through him again, as cold wrapped around him.

“You don’t understand,” the voice said sadly.

“How can I understand, if I don’t know?” Spike asked sarcastically.

“Remember who and what you are, sweet William.”

“NO!” he screamed out, as memories flowed back into him. Horror filled him.

“I couldn’t!... No!... I am not!” he wept.

Spike landed on firm ground, but everything was black. He looked down at his body; it was there, clothed in a black t-shirt and black pants. He touched his face to see if he was real, but could not feel it. The woman in blue silk came back to him.

“You are not flesh yet. Give it time.”

“Why am I here?” he asked, unsure.

“You died.”

“I kind of figured that! Why am I here with you, Darla?” Spike asked quietly, knowing that he was not going to like what she had to say.

“You’re not finished.”

“Finished what?”

“Angel needs you!” Darla said urgently.

“Poofter needs no one. Got his soul and is alive, you know.” he said defensively.

“He made a deal.”

“Don’t care, what he did.”

“William, he needs you. He is lost. Everything has been taken away from him. His destiny, his love, his child, his would-be love, and possibly his soul.” She came closer to Spike and touched his face gently. Spike stepped back.

“If you're concerned about him, why don’t you go to him?” he asked as he pushed her hand away.

“Because I can’t, William.”

“Don’t call me that. William’s no more, pet. Always favored Spike.” he said with uncertain reservation. After all it didn’t matter both William and Spike are dead , he reminded himself.

“Okay, Spike, I can’t go to him,” She said calmly.

“Darla, I’m dead. Just like you. Dead, dusted, burned by a trinket, made the world safe for blooming onions and beer.” He tried to walk away but was confronted by her again.

“You’re not done yet!”

“Yes I am!” Spike declared.

He fell again, blazing pain ripping through him. Images of Angelus came to him as he fell.

“Bloody hell!”

He landed again. This time it hurt.

His body was trembling, cold. It was too dark to see, but he didn’t have to to to know that he was on firm ground. He was back on earth, ripped out of heaven.

He felt hands touch him as he tried to right himself. Another set of hands eased under his elbow, helping him up. Spike’s eyes began to focus. A large window exposed the room to daylight.

A warm blanket was quickly wrapped around him, as he noticed that he was naked. He laughed as he stepped back. A man came to into view, a man that Spike knew all too well; the man had haunted his peace in heaven and was the reason why he was back.

Spike’s eyes came into focus as he looked up into Angel’s brown eyes. In that moment Spike understood why he was here. Angel, his family, needed him. Dazed, he looked down at his body, then slowly around the room. Adjusting himself to his surroundings, he moved over to the open window and looked out into the daylight. He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. Tall building stretched across the landscape. The light neither hurt his eyes, nor burned him like it should have. He stood shivering in the warm light.

“It’s okay, Spike. Can you speak?” Angel asked as he stood beside him.

Spike didn’t respond to him as he stood looking out the window. Buffy, forgive me, Angel needs me, he said sadly to himself. Slowly he regained his composure, and turned and faced Angel.

“What’s this deal you made, peaches?” he asked snarkily. When he saw a look of surprise on Angel’s face he added; “and I’ll need some sodding clothes, can’t be prancing around naked now, can I?”