The Joy of Christmas
Title: The Joy of Christmas
Author: Skytteflickan88
Characters: Spike
Genre: angst
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mentions of death and torture
Spoilers: BtVS Season 5 (Out Of My Mind)
Beta-reader: hunk_nightthing [I edited a lot after I got this beta’d, so I should probably have gotten it re-beta’d. Oh well.]
Status: Completed.
Word count: 729
Summary: Spike is not loving the holiday.
Author’s note: Created for Noel of Spike. I use the commonly accepted name Pratt as Spike's last name. It was used in the possibly-canon comic Spike: Asylum, which makes it official enough for me.
_________________________________
Spike was walking down Main Street, on his way home. It was the night before Christmas, but the vampire was not jolly.
Spike didn’t like Christmas at all. He used to, when he was alive, and still known as William Pratt. True, the early celebrations of his human youth had been filled with pain and fear, as his father, William Sr, had been an abusive drunk. Both he and his mother, Anne, had spent the holidays putting on a brave face, trying to get through in one piece. The rest of their relatives stayed away, celebrating in their own homes, not wanting to get caught in the middle. But Spike had begun to love the holiday once his father died. It was a time of joy and cheer for him and his mother. He had loved opening his gifts, even as an adult, but he had loved giving gifts to his mother even more.
However, after he had become a vampire, sired his mother, and later staked her, things... changed.
No matter how many families he slaughtered around this time every year he was always distraught by the memories of what had been. Not even finding the cruelest fathers, stalking, torturing and hanging them in town squares made him happy.
Drusilla always complained about Spike’s moods and quickly got tired off him, leaving for another exciting city without him a few days before Christmas until his mood wore off sometime in February, when she'd come back for him.
He didn’t mind that she left. Especially since he sometimes saw her gaze wistfully herself at happy families around the holiday. Spike imagined he could see a sliver of sanity slip through the clouds of her mind. These moments were usually followed by Drusilla obsessing over memories of her “Daddy”, and making plans of what she wanted to do to those happy families (which she often followed through). But Spike thinks he saw it.
The girl she used to be.
Those were the only times he cursed Angelus for breaking and re-creating that innocent girl he never got the chance to meet. The rest of the year Spike and Drusilla were two hungry monsters, out for fun and blood, creatures of the dark which never looked back, that were happy destiny and sadistic desires had brought them together. But around this time of the year, they remembered. And Spike wondered about the girl she had once been. And if his mother would have approved of that girl
These are thoughts he rarely let himself think. But now Spike doesn’t have Drusilla or feeding to distract him. Not even Harmony was around to shag. Even the demons of Sunnydale were getting scarcer, since both Buffy and Spike were killing them now, which meant Spike hadn't been able to find one to fight for days.
So it was a gloomy Spike that carried a bag with blood and whiskey to his crypt. But when he opened the door he was met by a surprise. There was a … tree, in one of the corners of the crypt? Spike wasn’t sure the thing lived up to the name. It was clearly meant to be a Christmas tree, but it was too small, broken and trashed to deserve the title. He noticed the tape around the branches, as if someone had attempted to straighten them out, so they didn’t droop as much.
Spike walked closer, expecting a trap or ambush, but nothing happened.
The blond suddenly noticed an Angel at the top. This made him immediately want to set the hideous thing on fire, but as he came closer, he saw that the Angel had blood smeared on it’s face and body, and a small wooden stake glued to its chest.
The chuckling vampire relaxed some, set the bag down at the floor and threw himself into his armchair and contemplated the tree.
He wondered who could have done this. The air reeked of the scent of the humans, but it always did. Buffy and her friends and family always found reasons to come here, for information, for a punching bag or for some of them, company. Spike decided not to go closer to the tree, since he would then be able to tell who had done this by the scent that must linger on the tree.
Spike knew it was hopeless, stupid even, to think Buffy would have done this. But he wanted to believe. So he didn’t open the wrapped gift that was lying under the tree. Instead he opened the first bottle of scotch of the night and put on the TV.
The end.
________________________
Author’s end note:
You choose who gave Spike the tree and the gift. But I like to think it was Dawn who decided to spend her entire month’s allowance on a tree and small gift to the vampire she was sure would receive none. But maybe it was Willow, or Tara, that wanted to be nice, but didn’t have much money to spend either. Or maybe, just maybe, it was Buffy.
Author: Skytteflickan88
Characters: Spike
Genre: angst
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mentions of death and torture
Spoilers: BtVS Season 5 (Out Of My Mind)
Beta-reader: hunk_nightthing [I edited a lot after I got this beta’d, so I should probably have gotten it re-beta’d. Oh well.]
Status: Completed.
Word count: 729
Summary: Spike is not loving the holiday.
Author’s note: Created for Noel of Spike. I use the commonly accepted name Pratt as Spike's last name. It was used in the possibly-canon comic Spike: Asylum, which makes it official enough for me.
_________________________________
Spike was walking down Main Street, on his way home. It was the night before Christmas, but the vampire was not jolly.
Spike didn’t like Christmas at all. He used to, when he was alive, and still known as William Pratt. True, the early celebrations of his human youth had been filled with pain and fear, as his father, William Sr, had been an abusive drunk. Both he and his mother, Anne, had spent the holidays putting on a brave face, trying to get through in one piece. The rest of their relatives stayed away, celebrating in their own homes, not wanting to get caught in the middle. But Spike had begun to love the holiday once his father died. It was a time of joy and cheer for him and his mother. He had loved opening his gifts, even as an adult, but he had loved giving gifts to his mother even more.
However, after he had become a vampire, sired his mother, and later staked her, things... changed.
No matter how many families he slaughtered around this time every year he was always distraught by the memories of what had been. Not even finding the cruelest fathers, stalking, torturing and hanging them in town squares made him happy.
Drusilla always complained about Spike’s moods and quickly got tired off him, leaving for another exciting city without him a few days before Christmas until his mood wore off sometime in February, when she'd come back for him.
He didn’t mind that she left. Especially since he sometimes saw her gaze wistfully herself at happy families around the holiday. Spike imagined he could see a sliver of sanity slip through the clouds of her mind. These moments were usually followed by Drusilla obsessing over memories of her “Daddy”, and making plans of what she wanted to do to those happy families (which she often followed through). But Spike thinks he saw it.
The girl she used to be.
Those were the only times he cursed Angelus for breaking and re-creating that innocent girl he never got the chance to meet. The rest of the year Spike and Drusilla were two hungry monsters, out for fun and blood, creatures of the dark which never looked back, that were happy destiny and sadistic desires had brought them together. But around this time of the year, they remembered. And Spike wondered about the girl she had once been. And if his mother would have approved of that girl
These are thoughts he rarely let himself think. But now Spike doesn’t have Drusilla or feeding to distract him. Not even Harmony was around to shag. Even the demons of Sunnydale were getting scarcer, since both Buffy and Spike were killing them now, which meant Spike hadn't been able to find one to fight for days.
So it was a gloomy Spike that carried a bag with blood and whiskey to his crypt. But when he opened the door he was met by a surprise. There was a … tree, in one of the corners of the crypt? Spike wasn’t sure the thing lived up to the name. It was clearly meant to be a Christmas tree, but it was too small, broken and trashed to deserve the title. He noticed the tape around the branches, as if someone had attempted to straighten them out, so they didn’t droop as much.
Spike walked closer, expecting a trap or ambush, but nothing happened.
The blond suddenly noticed an Angel at the top. This made him immediately want to set the hideous thing on fire, but as he came closer, he saw that the Angel had blood smeared on it’s face and body, and a small wooden stake glued to its chest.
The chuckling vampire relaxed some, set the bag down at the floor and threw himself into his armchair and contemplated the tree.
He wondered who could have done this. The air reeked of the scent of the humans, but it always did. Buffy and her friends and family always found reasons to come here, for information, for a punching bag or for some of them, company. Spike decided not to go closer to the tree, since he would then be able to tell who had done this by the scent that must linger on the tree.
Spike knew it was hopeless, stupid even, to think Buffy would have done this. But he wanted to believe. So he didn’t open the wrapped gift that was lying under the tree. Instead he opened the first bottle of scotch of the night and put on the TV.
The end.
________________________
Author’s end note:
You choose who gave Spike the tree and the gift. But I like to think it was Dawn who decided to spend her entire month’s allowance on a tree and small gift to the vampire she was sure would receive none. But maybe it was Willow, or Tara, that wanted to be nice, but didn’t have much money to spend either. Or maybe, just maybe, it was Buffy.