[mad muses] july 2.2.3 - johnathan brook - what you don't know
You'll never see me coming
You'll never know my name
Try to remember, try to forget
But you'll never be the same
==========
Nobody asked him to stay, he just did. It made the most sense, being that he didn’t actually need sleep or food or any of that nonsense. Once Baileigh stormed into the waiting room cursing in both English and Spanish, and once he’d calmed her down enough to explain that Nahuel was behind the shooting, Spike hadn’t left the hospital. It was easy enough to avoid the sun, hospitals weren’t very welcoming to daylight so long as he stayed out of the lobby.
There was always someone in Hank’s room as well. She was always with Joe or Claire or Bee or the Bartletts, and Spike was always with them…except when he was in the ER like he was now, gazing longingly at an accident victim bleeding in the corridor. Guiltily, he imagined the bloke was already dead, and what was a taste of cold meat among friends, right? After all, Cain worked in the damn hospital…
The smell shook him from his daydream. He’d come across it before, on Bee during her last jaunt through the bastard’s club. Sex and rot, and it was close.
Afternoon snacks forgotten, Spike straightened and looked around, body tense and senses primed for a fight. More than Hank’s life was at stake here, his pride was on the line. He could still hardly believe he’d missed the bugger before, and it rankled.
“You seem upset, amigo.”
Spinning around on his heel, Spike’s hand lifted reflexively to wrap around the other man’s throat.
“Give me one bloody reason not to snap your neck right now, mate.”
“Because I come in peace.” Nahuel insisted, gesturing with a bouquet of roses in hand. After a moment, the liquid smile died and the arrogant features froze icy cold. “And my worshippers are numerous. Numerous, extremely loyal…”
And very young. It didn’t need to be said…since first uncovering the cult he was fostering locally, with a solid foundation in the local high school, the Slayers had not yet been able to break his hold on the oversexed teenage population he fed from. Spike wouldn’t have put it past him to have followers in position to strike unless he gave them the heads up. Doctors, nurses…candy stripers and volunteers under the age of eighteen…
Snarling, Spike released him and stepped back, fighting with all his might not to change and blow his own cover.
“Turn around. Walk away.” He spat quietly. “There’s more than just me in this building you have to worry about.”
“Mmmm…that is what I’m counting on, William.” Nahuel purred, breathing deeply from the blooms in hand. “Did you know that red roses mean passionate love, my friend?”
“Piss off. Whatever bloody spooks you got ‘round here, you’ll die twice over if you lay a finger on the Callahan girl. You pissed her bloke off something awful.”
Nahuel laughed, grating and arousing Spike at the same time. Oversexed…at the moment he was just that with Mia in town, and the rat bastard was capitalizing on it.
“You are too funny, amigo…can you tell me, how is it that you know this?”
Something about his playful remark made his blood run colder, above and beyond the ever present threat. “What’re you on about?”
“Henrietta…she’s lovely, si, and in love, which is a culinary delight like no other…but what makes you think that she was the one I wanted that night?”
Spike froze.
“A gun against a Slayer?” he drawled, clucking his tongue. “Overkill even in an unfair fight. You don’t think perhaps there was something I wanted more than one trifling soul-mated Slayer?”
“What--”
“Ensouled vampires are quite rare, amigo, and willing ones rarer still. I have heard tell that at the end of days, the one who will rule the spheres is the one who can balance chaos with the pure and unfettered heart of the walking dead. Now, if you were me…and you once were…how would a man secure the loyalties of such a heart that would not come willingly?...”
Points of light flared in Spike’s head, points he fought at once to squash. He didn’t know if Nahuel could read thoughts, but he wasn’t going to stick around long enough to risk it.
Wordlessly, he turned and ran at full speed. There were too many options and not enough time, but the biggest bullseye was the one he had to get to first…
Hank was the wall he had to climb. He didn’t want the kid, he wanted her bloody fucking driver.
Nahuel was after Spike, and he was going through Amelia to get him.
Muse: Spike
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Words: 772
You'll never know my name
Try to remember, try to forget
But you'll never be the same
==========
Nobody asked him to stay, he just did. It made the most sense, being that he didn’t actually need sleep or food or any of that nonsense. Once Baileigh stormed into the waiting room cursing in both English and Spanish, and once he’d calmed her down enough to explain that Nahuel was behind the shooting, Spike hadn’t left the hospital. It was easy enough to avoid the sun, hospitals weren’t very welcoming to daylight so long as he stayed out of the lobby.
There was always someone in Hank’s room as well. She was always with Joe or Claire or Bee or the Bartletts, and Spike was always with them…except when he was in the ER like he was now, gazing longingly at an accident victim bleeding in the corridor. Guiltily, he imagined the bloke was already dead, and what was a taste of cold meat among friends, right? After all, Cain worked in the damn hospital…
The smell shook him from his daydream. He’d come across it before, on Bee during her last jaunt through the bastard’s club. Sex and rot, and it was close.
Afternoon snacks forgotten, Spike straightened and looked around, body tense and senses primed for a fight. More than Hank’s life was at stake here, his pride was on the line. He could still hardly believe he’d missed the bugger before, and it rankled.
“You seem upset, amigo.”
Spinning around on his heel, Spike’s hand lifted reflexively to wrap around the other man’s throat.
“Give me one bloody reason not to snap your neck right now, mate.”
“Because I come in peace.” Nahuel insisted, gesturing with a bouquet of roses in hand. After a moment, the liquid smile died and the arrogant features froze icy cold. “And my worshippers are numerous. Numerous, extremely loyal…”
And very young. It didn’t need to be said…since first uncovering the cult he was fostering locally, with a solid foundation in the local high school, the Slayers had not yet been able to break his hold on the oversexed teenage population he fed from. Spike wouldn’t have put it past him to have followers in position to strike unless he gave them the heads up. Doctors, nurses…candy stripers and volunteers under the age of eighteen…
Snarling, Spike released him and stepped back, fighting with all his might not to change and blow his own cover.
“Turn around. Walk away.” He spat quietly. “There’s more than just me in this building you have to worry about.”
“Mmmm…that is what I’m counting on, William.” Nahuel purred, breathing deeply from the blooms in hand. “Did you know that red roses mean passionate love, my friend?”
“Piss off. Whatever bloody spooks you got ‘round here, you’ll die twice over if you lay a finger on the Callahan girl. You pissed her bloke off something awful.”
Nahuel laughed, grating and arousing Spike at the same time. Oversexed…at the moment he was just that with Mia in town, and the rat bastard was capitalizing on it.
“You are too funny, amigo…can you tell me, how is it that you know this?”
Something about his playful remark made his blood run colder, above and beyond the ever present threat. “What’re you on about?”
“Henrietta…she’s lovely, si, and in love, which is a culinary delight like no other…but what makes you think that she was the one I wanted that night?”
Spike froze.
“A gun against a Slayer?” he drawled, clucking his tongue. “Overkill even in an unfair fight. You don’t think perhaps there was something I wanted more than one trifling soul-mated Slayer?”
“What--”
“Ensouled vampires are quite rare, amigo, and willing ones rarer still. I have heard tell that at the end of days, the one who will rule the spheres is the one who can balance chaos with the pure and unfettered heart of the walking dead. Now, if you were me…and you once were…how would a man secure the loyalties of such a heart that would not come willingly?...”
Points of light flared in Spike’s head, points he fought at once to squash. He didn’t know if Nahuel could read thoughts, but he wasn’t going to stick around long enough to risk it.
Wordlessly, he turned and ran at full speed. There were too many options and not enough time, but the biggest bullseye was the one he had to get to first…
Hank was the wall he had to climb. He didn’t want the kid, he wanted her bloody fucking driver.
Nahuel was after Spike, and he was going through Amelia to get him.
Muse: Spike
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Words: 772