Title: A Blood Red Sun
Author: Pattyanne
Summary: Follows 'All That Love
Went To Waste'. Spike returns to the
scene of his demise.

"I started a joke
That started the whole world crying
But I didn't see
That the joke was on me..."

He had missed driving a car.

The motorcycle he'd used for transportation
a thousand years ago had been fun, there was no
denying it.

Eating up miles of road, going like the proverbial "bat
out of hell" with the wind in his face had made him feel
like he ruled the world and everything in it.

It was freedom, with just a little something missing.

But being in a car...especially one as powerful as this
one...was special. Knowing that he had liberated it
from Angel was icing on his cake.

She was a far cry from the last car he'd driven. His
De Soto had been a fairly sweet ride, but driving this
baby was like flying.

A Viper GTS. Only 360 of them ever made. A V10,
with 450 horses of fuel injected muscle, she went
from 0-60 in 4.0 seconds, and her speed topped out
at 192 miles per fucking hour!

The sound system wasn't exactly shabby either.

An Alpine AM-FM/stereo radio/cassette/CD player
with no less than five...count 'em, FIVE...speakers.

All of which he had cranked to the max, needing it
loud to drown out his thoughts.

He had to do it, because every single non-connected
thought he had...was only about her; a girl he'd never
see again.

"I started to cry
Which started the whole world laughing
Oh, if I'd only seen
That the joke was on me.."

He'd had no intention of driving to Sunnydale. His plans,
sketchy as they were, had been to point the car south
and head towards Mexico, a place he had fond memories

But his foot had seemed to have developed a mind of
it's own when he got to the interstate, and somehow he
found himself going north instead.

There wasn't one good reason for it. The town was no
longer there, and neither was Buffy. From what he'd been
able to piece together, Sunnydale had become the worlds
largest vacant lot. Not so much as a bit of shrubbery had
survived the city's decimation.

And the slayer? Apparently she was having a grand
old time roaming around the world. Last reported sight-
ing: Rome. The Eternal City. Not much vampire action
there, thanks to an overload of religion. No vamp wants
to hang in a place where there's a buggering crucifix
on every wall.

Did she think of him, ever? Maybe in the last few
seconds of consciousness before falling asleep...did
she remember him?

Did she mourn for him...just a little?

Had she cried at all?

After all, savior of the world here. Went out in a fucking
blaze of glory. And it should have stayed that way, dammit!
He hadn't asked to be brought back, hadn't expected it. He'd
actually been at some strange sort of peace with his decision
to act as a conduit between the sun and that fuck load of

Of course, everything after that was a big long blank. He
couldn't remember a thing between that last blast of
bone shattering agony as his body spontaneously combusted,
and the moment he'd opened his eyes and found himself
sitting on the floor of the Los Angeles Public Library.

Weird place for a resurrection.

Once he'd gotten his wits together and made it out
the door into the early evening air, he'd realized that he
didn't have the first clue what to do or where to go. The only
person he knew in LA was Angel, and there was no fucking
way he was going to go THERE for help.

An empty belly had quickly changed his mind.

The great poof had been no happier to see him than
he himself had been. He'd extracted the story of what had
occurred in Sunnydale from his tight lipped fumble prick of a
grand-sire, one small kernel of information at a time. Three
days later, he'd helped himself to his wheels and left Los
Angeles in the dust, with no intention of ever coming

"I looked at the skies
Running my hands over my eyes
And I fell out of bed, hurting my head
From things that I'd said.."

The crater loomed before him way before he was
expecting it, forcing him to hit the brakes hard.

Fucking Hell....they hadn't been exaggerating.

It was gone.

Like it had never existed in the first place.

Sliding the transmission into 'Park', he switched off
the engine and stepped out of the car. The sun was
far enough down in the sky not to bother him. It was a
bloated orange ball tonight, it's surrounding sky streaked
with slashes of color that looked like blood.

Well...he sure as hell hadn't been expecting this. He'd
thought maybe it would look as though a high magnitude
earthquake had shaken the little town to pieces, leaving
behind broken bits of buildings...the smashed up detritus
of people's lives.

Instead...it had been wiped clean off the face of the earth.

Standing on the very edge, he tried to map it out in his
mind. If this was the city limit line, then just two or three
miles straight in would bring him to the cemetery he'd
called home for four years. Hang a sharp left, go another
five blocks, and you'd find Revello Drive.

Fifth house on the right...was where she had lived.

The last place he himself had lived, for a very short time.

Had she cried for him?

Maybe. A little.

Did she miss him?

Most likely, not.

Life had gone on for her, and he was happy that it had.

He wasn't about to interfere with it.

"Till I finally died
Which started the whole world living.."

"I love you."

"No. You don't. But, thanks for saying it."

She had cried. Then. When it became painfully clear
that he wasn't going to be able to leave with her. Her
lovely green eyes were full of tears, and her pretty
face was so sad.

Despite all his bravado, he'd been honestly scared of
what was about to happen. So, she had been kind. Not
her usual mien.

He'd deserved to burn in hell for eternity. No matter that
he had helped avert two apocalyptic events, and completely
stopped a third one. That wasn't enough to balance his

So why was he standing here now?


Could somebody please answer THAT fucking question?

"Oh, if I'd only seen
That the joke was on me.."

No one had an answer for him. It was all just another
stupid fuck up. Someone...somewhere...was asleep at
the switch.

He didn't deserve a 'Get Out Of Hell Free' card.

Of course....Angel hadn't deserved one either. And
some of the things his grand-sire had done made HIM
look like Mary Bloody Poppins.

But Angel had been forgiven. By everyone.

By Buffy.

The slayer. His slayer. His love.

Oh, shit....no! He was NOT gonna fucking cry!

Not any more.

He was done with tears. In the end...they were pretty
goddamn useless.

So....why were they standing in his eyes, threatening
to spill down his cheeks.

The orange sun looked....blurry. Lower in the sky. Al-
most gone from sight.

There was no warmth. It didn't hurt to look at it.

But it was blurry.

"I looked at the skies
Running my hands over my eyes
And I fell out of bed, hurting my head
From things that I'd said..."

Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he held his
head in his hands.

This was no time to be emotional. He was here for
a reason, and emotion had no place in it.

One hundred and twenty-three years ago, he had
died...then been reborn.

He had killed...and maimed...and tortured. Too many
people to count.

Striding through the nights, like some kind of king of the
fucking world, he'd torn innocents to pieces. Slaughtered
entire families...shattered and destroyed lives as carelessly
as a child might break a toy.

He had done these things....and he had laughed.

And the only saving grace he'd ever been able to find...was

But, in the end, even she hadn't been enough.

"I love you, Buffy. I love you."

Sighing, he rose to his feet. After taking one last look
at the crater, he crawled onto the hood of the Viper and
lay on his back, his arms extended straight out.

There wasn't a piece of wood anywhere to be seen.

He'd have to wait for the sun.

"Till I finally died
Which started the whole world living

Oh, if I'd only seen
That the joke....was on me."

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