[identity profile] clawofcat.livejournal.com in [community profile] seasonal_spuffy
The fic that I've been working on for this round is still in development, but I didn't want to leave you all hanging without content, so here's a small offering. I hope to have my other fic finished for the Free For All.

Title: Convergence
Author: ClawofCat
Timing: S7
Rating: PG-13
Words: 603
Summary: Set during "Lessons," we learn more about Spike, the soul, and his perceptions about Buffy when sanity was slippery at best.

A/N: Thanks to [profile] only_passenger for being my last minute sounding board on this ficlet. You're my hero.

 

“I dreamed of killing you. I think they were dreams. So weak. You make me weak. Thinking of you, holding myself and spilling useless buckets of salt over your… ending.” ~ Spike in "Beneath You."

 ***

 

Within the fever dreams he sees a girl. Slight and proud, her knowing smile and grace is as natural as the killing blows she delivers. He sees himself, too, serrated teeth on cocksure display when they circle each other for their formal introduction. His victory was always to hold her heart in his hands, a literal desire turned figurative. It was never his to have until now though. Her blows connect, but are ineffective; her puns a sad cover for her inexperience. He crows when the stumble comes and she sinks into his embrace, a tragic mimic of the lovesick Bot, except there is no steel and silicone when he steals the prize that was never his for the taking. The stem of her neck wilts with the force of the tear as he bites and sucks and drains. Her body slumps, hits the ruddy school tile and keeps falling, arms spread, flying into the blue matrix of energy where it is dashed and jerked and beaten.

 

The guilt of the jump still hammers loud and clear, hammers like he hammered her in the days weeks when the ambiguity of her no’s and yes’s were clearest. Rejection is all she knows and all she gives.

 

“Beneath him,” the thing cries inside of his head.

 

“Beneath her,” he cries on the alley pavement. He doesn’t hesitate with the gun this time. Big bad, big weapon and he blows a hole through her, the drop of her body on the porch like the crack of her back on the tub. The hole in her chest gurgles when she cries no, pushing at him as he forces himself in. Hand on her heart, teeth in her neck, cock in her cunt, he makes her see the real him. But she shakes her head and casts her heart away, a writhing fish out of water skidding across the floor. Only a soul can have her throat, her heart, her sex. Only a soul, only a man. It’s what she deserves, what he fights for, fights against. His devilish doppelganger won’t let him forget, and taunts taunts taunts.     

 

The nights when the burning rages, he cuts deep into his breast, so both their chests are empty. He looks for the piece that will fit. They don’t match anymore, but he remembers when they did – her hand and his, bloody-knuckled and raw, an homage to the pain of a life returned. The nights when he saved her are washed out and blurred now; all he can see are the nights he kills her, slower faster quicker, when he didn’t feel anything, nothing clean inside, dead. Thing. Soulless.

 

The school basement groans, metal doors ring and her scent breaks through the din of misery. Sin or solace? What will she bring? Nowhere to hide, needs a costume, but there is nothing but the threadbare shirt, the honesty of his mutilated flesh. She took him battered and beaten once, forgave with a kiss, saw and knew his sacrifice. A blue fairy, his Buffy, is needed to declare his actions real.

 

When she stares at him, her shirt white like the day of the jump, he registers the shock and fear. He knows this look, seen it many times. It’s just one of the innumerable faces he dreams of in the dark.

 

“Spike? Are you real?” she whispers with the disbelief he felt when she stood on those stairs, fresh and new and broken.

 

The shard of hope dies and he knows now the futility. His manic laugh shakes him and she flinches.

 

Not real. Just flesh.

 

Flesh to her, solid through.
 

2009-10-30 05:24 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] rebcake.livejournal.com
This is so densely written, so full of substance, that I hardly know where to begin.

How about: His victory was always to hold her heart in his hands, a literal desire turned figurative. contrasted with [she] casts her heart away, a writhing fish out of water skidding across the floor.

There's so much going on in just those two lines, about the tenuous grasp he has on his desires (kiss or kill), his memory, and his sanity, among other things. Excellent.

serrated teeth on cocksure display when they circle each other for their formal introduction

I love the touch of victoriana in the midst of monstrous posturing. The reference to Buffy as the Blue Fairy (Are you real?) is wonderful, as well.

Beautifully done, affecting and powerful. Thanks for putting it out there.

(Deadlines: mother to amazing work.)

2009-10-30 06:33 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] urania-calliope.livejournal.com
That gave me shivers. Wonderful words.

2009-10-30 09:23 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] amyxaphania.livejournal.com
I'll echo [livejournal.com profile] urania_calliope - this gave me shivers. Great little fic.

2009-10-30 20:07 (UTC)
ext_7259: (Duster_by_awmp)
- Posted by [identity profile] moscow-watcher.livejournal.com
So wonderfully chilling, so intense and heartbreaking.

Flow-of-conscience pieces are the hardest to write, especially when a writer deals with Spike, who is one of the most controvercial characters in TV history. But you do it brilliantly, delving into his psyche and crystallizing his very essense - the poet, the sacred beast, the ultimate myth, the embodiment of a male duality - and the man behind these concepts.

Stellar. Just stellar.

2009-10-31 21:38 (UTC)
ext_7259: (Default)
- Posted by [identity profile] moscow-watcher.livejournal.com
They've always been some of the easiest for me, actually. It's functional storytelling that I've often had difficulty with (and what's been the hold up on the SS fic I've been working on). I was quite strapped for time, so I reverted to default mode - something I knew I could on short notice and it's this tight, lyrical, image-heavy prose. It feels very organic to me, like snapshots. It's how people think and remember - in pieces - so writing like this feels like a natural extension of a person's internal state. Does that make sense?

Lucky you! In my case, it's the opposite. I often get weird plotty "what if" ideas as I rewatch the show, and some of them easily transform into fic storylines. But delving into characters' psyche is incredibly hard to me. I tried, unsuccessfully, several times, and, finally accepted my inadequacy. And I have deep respect and admiration of writers who can glimpse into characters' souls.

2009-10-31 07:33 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] rebcake.livejournal.com
the embodiment of a male duality

Excellent point about Spike being the perfect embodiment of that thing about men, that they are marvelous and loving and attractive, but that they are far too often capable of killing the women they love. *shiver*

2009-10-30 20:58 (UTC)
shapinglight: (Crazy Spike)
- Posted by [personal profile] shapinglight
Eh dear! Poor Spike. I think you got to the heart of his madness here.

2009-10-30 21:50 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] petzipellepingo.livejournal.com
Sin or solace? What will she bring? Nowhere to hide, needs a costume, but there is nothing but the threadbare shirt, the honesty of his mutilated flesh. She took him battered and beaten once, forgave with a kiss, saw and knew his sacrifice. A blue fairy, his Buffy, is needed to declare his actions real.


Poor crazy, mixed up Spike; so broken and alone. You've done a great job showing just how tragic he was.

2009-10-30 21:56 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] evilawyer.livejournal.com
Very powerful.

2009-10-31 02:55 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] jen-nsync-landl.livejournal.com
Chilling and absolutely plausible as early S7 reality.

It’s just one of the innumerable faces he dreams of in the dark.

Love that line as the accompaniment for that first moment between them.

Well done.

2009-10-31 04:35 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] twilightschild9.livejournal.com
Amazing little piece. It flows like a dream, beautiful and scattered everywhere.

"He doesn’t hesitate with the gun this time. Big bad, big weapon and he blows a hole through her, the drop of her body on the porch like the crack of her back on the tub. The hole in her chest gurgles when she cries no, pushing at him as he forces himself in. Hand on her heart, teeth in her neck, cock in her cunt, he makes her see the real him." - I love the way you make him see himself. There was no getting around this part, just like there's no getting around the bathroom scene.

You're amazing, and I'm glad I got to see more of your writing.

2009-10-31 15:24 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] penny-lane-42.livejournal.com
Oh, wow. This reads like poetry, in that every single word is perfectly chosen and absolutely necessary. I usually try to pick out lines that especially appeal to me, but I can't do that here, because each one has so much meaning and symbolism and texture. And the emotion is just heartwrenching. This is beautiful.

2009-10-31 18:55 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] timeofchange.livejournal.com
I need to save this one to read again. Such beautiful language for such painful imagery.

2009-11-01 16:39 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] zanthinegirl.livejournal.com
Wow, really powerful writing. SO much packed into a such a small space-- CLearly I'm going to have to come back to it again.

Just gorgeous.

2009-11-01 22:43 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] riccadonna.livejournal.com
It's so hurtful, I almost wanted to skip lines.
A very creepy, touching trip in Spike's mind.

2009-11-02 18:43 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] brunettepet.livejournal.com
Excellent capture if the inner workings of newly souled Spike's fractured mind. His mental follow through to all those chances at killing Buffy nicely bookend his dreams of saving the slayer after her sacrifice. It is his love of her, his quest to grab her elusive, slippery heart, that has led him to this tortured place, so it's no wonder he dreams of ending her before the torture can begin.

This slips into canon beautifully, and you leave me feeling Spike's deep conflict and pain. Excellent job.

2009-11-06 18:13 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] louise39.livejournal.com
Only a soul can have her throat, her heart, her sex. Only a soul, only a man.
Oh, but this soul of Spike is forcing him to face some intense and harsh truths. Love how this semi-mad Spike careens between memories and wishes until his 'blue fairy' comes and hope dies.

Each phrase, each word paints such pain and chaos. This was difficult to read because you make Spike's suffering so real and immediate.

Intense and breathtaking.


2009-11-07 02:26 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] manoah.livejournal.com
My. Very intense. Powerful. You string your words together so well.

Thank you for sharing.

2009-11-11 00:07 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] slaymesoftly.livejournal.com
I hope I reviewed this on SS. I know I read it there, so I guess I did. In any case, I think this is some of the best work you've done. It's powerful, affecting and captures Spike at that point in his life beautifully.

2009-11-12 02:40 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] slaymesoftly.livejournal.com
Hmmm, well, I guess that explains why I couldn't remember what I said about it the first time. :) You should be happy with it.

2009-11-11 06:23 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] kseenaa.livejournal.com
That was amazing. Absolutely amazing. There is a sense in the madness, isn't there? *smiles sadly*

2009-11-11 17:06 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] hello-spikey.livejournal.com
*shivers*

Dark and poetical, dear. Don't know really what else to say - you capture the complexity of the moment in unflinching detail. Brava!

2009-11-11 22:29 (UTC)
next_to_normal: (Spike smoking)
- Posted by [personal profile] next_to_normal
Thanks for the reminder - I've still got about 30 tabs open, but I finally made it back to this one. :)

You're definitely right that this is the type of fic you do best. I love the parallels drawn between the dreams of killing her and the real-life times he's let her down. And all around, a very good depiction of Crazy!Spike, which is hard to do.

2009-11-16 16:14 (UTC)
next_to_normal: (Default)
- Posted by [personal profile] next_to_normal
OMG sooo slow! And sadly, I'm not finding very many that I enjoyed, which is disappointing, to slog through tons of recs and not find many good ones.

2009-12-06 21:59 (UTC)
- Posted by [identity profile] all-choseny.livejournal.com
Excellent look into Spike's agony. Most of the time I read fic's that focus on Buffy's pain and confusion regarding their relationship. And although Spike put up an excellent facade most of the time, it was painful and confusing for him too.

This piece really punctuated that for me.

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