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1character2025-11-09 09:56 am
veronyxk84) wrote in 1character2025-11-09 09:56 am
Bereft (50 Sentences: Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
Character: Spike
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Theme set: Delta
Rating: PG-13/Teen and Up
Warnings: Spike-typical coarse language, grieving
A/N: Set between S5 and S6 of BtVS; the sentences represent short journal entries that Spike could have written within that span of time.
#01 – Blend
I’ve been joining the Scoobies on patrol, trying to help the best I can, because that’s what I’d do if you were still here; but you aren’t and I can’t be bothered to blend in more than I bloody need.
#02 – Stain
In my waking hours guilt clings to the hollow place where my conscience used to be, like a stain that won’t go away, no matter how long and hard you scrub at it; my own hands are stained with her blood… not for killing her, but because I failed to save her.
#03 – Island
When I’m given a choice, I pick Dawn-sitting over patrolling with the Scoobies; she always falls asleep on the couch, as if she’s dreading the idea of going upstairs where Buffy’s empty bedroom now sits like a deserted island… surrounded by silence, haunted by memories.
#04 – Apple
As I take out the trash, I notice a bunch of apple slices: all turned brown, all intact; Willow has reprogrammed the sodding bot and added a few housekeeping skills, like prepping healthy snacks for Dawn… no bloody wonder she felt like throwing it all away.
#05 – Paper
Today’s paper reported another alleged incident with barbeque forks in the neighborhood; I’m starting to wonder if the citizens of Sunnydale are all brain dead or just living in deep denial under a bloody rock.
#06 – Relax
I thought that getting into a brawl with some wanker from the local demon community would help me relax, like it always used to… but I’m wound tighter than a bloody crossbow string; I’m haunted by flashing images of her: her smile, her fall, her lifeless body.
#07 – Leaves
The leaves dance in the night breeze, full of life, and I still hate that the world keeps spinning without her in it.
#08 – Proof
Her tombstone stands in the hidden clearing, a stone-cold proof of her untimely departure from this world; I saw her body too, watched her friends carry it away… yet every time I lay my eyes on that tombstone, I feel the urge to defy its meaning.
#09 – Ugly
Even a seasoned monster like me feels hollowed out when grief rears its ugly head and immortality suddenly feels like a curse for the first time in decades.
#10 – Book
I try to do things by the book, try to remember how she would like them done; it’s bloody hard, but it’s the least I can do to honor her legacy.
#11 – Brood
I am not the brooding type; it’s a bloody cliché and something that Angel has already been mastering for over a century—so when the ghost of her memory won’t let me sleep, I just drown my sorrow in the nearest bottle of booze.
#12 – Mesh
The sodding Scoobies and I will never mesh; I could never really stand them anyway and Buffy is—was—the only reason why I tolerated their presence; now I stick around for Dawn—I’ve got a promise to keep.
#13 – Soft
The dirt covering her grave still looks soft and freshly turned; only a few lonely blades of grass are marking the passing of the weeks.
#14 – Shelf
Last night I thought of nicking a picture of Buffy to place it on the shelf above my telly—but then I thought better of it, and I placed a lit candle there; she wouldn’t approve of me nicking anything of hers, even if it were for nobler reasons than the ones I had before.
#15 – Alone
One would think that loneliness and immortality go hand in hand by definition, but it’s not always like that; and I’ve been alone before, but this is bloody different—like the silence comes to swallow me whole.
#16 – Fall
Every night I still dream of her fall, and every night I make up a new way to save her; but it’s all still just a bloody dream that shatters when reality creeps in.
#17 – Knot
There’s a knot in my gut every time I catch Dawn wiping her tears away, trying to hide her pain; she’s been brought to life as a teenager less than a year ago only to watch her beloved mum and sister die—she might have been timeless supernatural energy once, but she’s just a bereaved kid now.
#18 – Crowd
The Bronze is packed and people are dancing their troubles away; I wish I could join them, but I doubt it’d help—even in a crowd, I feel like a ghost.
#19 – Denial
Some nights I wander through Sunnydale’s cemeteries alone, after the mandatory patrol with the Scoobies—and a part of me still expects to see her pop out from behind a crypt… denial’s a cruel companion.
#20 – Train
I had to chase a fledgling all the way to Sunnydale’s train station tonight, and for a second, I wished I could catch the next ride, leave everything behind… but I’ve still got a promise to keep.
#21 – Fur
I noticed that Dawn’s collection of stuffed animals has grown, it features Mr. Gordo now—Buffy’s favorite stuffed pig; she’ll wear out his short fake fur by clutching it like an armor in her sleep.
#22 – Chrome
Lately I’ve been spending way too much time detailing my car, but concentrating on polishing its chrome accents helps me keep my thoughts of her at bay… most of the time.
#23 – Heart
The harshest lesson I’ve learned these past few weeks is that you don’t need to have a beating heart for it to break… undead unbeating hearts break just fine.
#24 – Intention
They say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions… I guess it’s true, because I intended to keep Dawn safe but I failed her—I failed both of them—and now I’m in hell; the world without her in it will be my personal hell forever.
#25 – Push
We don’t talk of Buffy that much, Dawn and I, but she’s still the glue keeping us together; she’s there when Dawn pushes me to lay off drinking so much; she’s there I push Dawn to go out and see her friends, enjoy the summer—it’s what Buffy would want for her.
#26 – Look
Looks can be deceiving; the sodding bot is strutting around wearing Buffy’s look and her clothes, and so far it’s been good enough to fool the local demon population… but I was the fool when I thought a bloody robot could ever replace her.
#27 – Weight
The weight of her absence grows heavier every day, as does the weight of my guilt knowing how much I failed her.
#28 – Spider
A spider in the corner of the ceiling’s been spinning its web for days—sometimes I just lie awake, watching it, letting the meaningless time pass me by.
#29 – Robe
Dawn and Willow had a huge fight today when the Little Bit found out that Red had picked up Buffy’s robe and washed it with her laundry; she’d seen Dawn using it and thought it was a nice gesture… she should have known better.
#30 – Umbrella
Rain hit Sunnydale hard tonight—seemed like a good moment to visit Buffy’s grave… no umbrella, just me and my own tears.
#31 – Surface
If it weren’t for my promise to keep Dawn safe, I wouldn’t bother staying here; but I keep it all beneath the surface—rage, regret, the way reading her name engraved on that cold gravestone still wrecks me.
#32 – Idea
I had the barmy idea to write her a poem tonight—I recited it at her grave and then I burned it.
#33 – Diamond
Sometimes I look up at the stars and search for the brightest one… I imagine that’s how she looks up there, a shining diamond embracing everything with her light—effulgent.
#34 – Blind
I was blind when I thought I’d be deserving of her affection… I know that now and I wish I’d spent more time enjoying her presence instead of always finding new ways to antagonize her.
#35 – Flow
Days and nights and weeks and months have been passing in the constant flow of time—I still think that time should have stopped when her heart stopped beating.
#36 – Movement
Even with the relentless passing of time, some days hurt like the first and every movement I make feels like I’m walking through molasses—each step heavier than the previous one, without her.
#37 – More
I’d give more than my unlife to bring her back, because she’s worth so much more; if I could go back and trade places with her, I would—but I can’t.
#38 – Honey
I heard Tara say that she made tea with honey for Dawn last night because it helps with nightmares; I know the witch means well, but no amount of honey in the world could rid Dawn of her nightmares.
#39 – Weather
The weather turned tonight, with the changing of the season—summer is officially over now according to the calendar, but for me it was already over when she exhaled her last breath.
#40 – Blue
The sky is still blue, the sun is still shining… and she is still gone; I’ve been counting the days, one by one, scratching them on the wall like inmates do: a hundred and forty days today—might as well be years.
#41 – Double
They’re still using the bot as a Buffy double, and I hate every second that thing gets to walk around wearing her face; but I know I only have myself to blame—for building the sodding robot, and for failing to keep Dawn safe when it truly mattered.
#42 – Braid
I’m afraid that Dawn might be getting used to the cold comfort of having the bot around; last night she had the bot braid her hair—like both Buffy and Joyce used to do—and I learned that was a new program recently installed by Willow, per Dawn’s request.
#43 – Thread
These days everyone seems to be hanging on by thread—thin, frayed, tense—and I can’t put my finger on it, but I swear there’s a strange vibe in the air.
#44 – Angles
One thing I learned from the bloody Hellions that are raiding Sunnydale, is that word got out that the Slayer is a robot—now it’s only a matter of time before hoards of demons start swarming in from all angles.
#45 – Daydream
For a moment it felt like a daydream, to watch her walk down the stairs; I almost didn’t let myself believe it until her scent eventually hit my nostrils, so unmistakably hers—Buffy.
#46 – Nightmare
I can’t decide whether this is where my nightmare ends or where hers begins; ripped out of Heaven, clawing her way out of her own grave… she’s back for real, but at what cost?
#47 – Honor
I made her a promise, once again, and once again I'm going to honor said promise; if it were for me, I’d tell her sodding friends exactly what they did to her when they brought her back… but it’s not my story to tell, so I won’t.
#48 – Palm
Her palm brushed mine tonight—barely a touch as I handed her the stake during patrol, but it lit me up like fire.
#49 – Screen
I look away from my TV screen when I hear the crypt door creak open; I know it’s her, because she’s been coming here almost every night—she just sits with me in silence, listening to my ramblings.
#50 – Warmth
The weather is much colder now, but there’s warmth in my hollow heart now that she is back.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Theme set: Delta
Rating: PG-13/Teen and Up
Warnings: Spike-typical coarse language, grieving
A/N: Set between S5 and S6 of BtVS; the sentences represent short journal entries that Spike could have written within that span of time.
#01 – Blend
I’ve been joining the Scoobies on patrol, trying to help the best I can, because that’s what I’d do if you were still here; but you aren’t and I can’t be bothered to blend in more than I bloody need.
#02 – Stain
In my waking hours guilt clings to the hollow place where my conscience used to be, like a stain that won’t go away, no matter how long and hard you scrub at it; my own hands are stained with her blood… not for killing her, but because I failed to save her.
#03 – Island
When I’m given a choice, I pick Dawn-sitting over patrolling with the Scoobies; she always falls asleep on the couch, as if she’s dreading the idea of going upstairs where Buffy’s empty bedroom now sits like a deserted island… surrounded by silence, haunted by memories.
#04 – Apple
As I take out the trash, I notice a bunch of apple slices: all turned brown, all intact; Willow has reprogrammed the sodding bot and added a few housekeeping skills, like prepping healthy snacks for Dawn… no bloody wonder she felt like throwing it all away.
#05 – Paper
Today’s paper reported another alleged incident with barbeque forks in the neighborhood; I’m starting to wonder if the citizens of Sunnydale are all brain dead or just living in deep denial under a bloody rock.
#06 – Relax
I thought that getting into a brawl with some wanker from the local demon community would help me relax, like it always used to… but I’m wound tighter than a bloody crossbow string; I’m haunted by flashing images of her: her smile, her fall, her lifeless body.
#07 – Leaves
The leaves dance in the night breeze, full of life, and I still hate that the world keeps spinning without her in it.
#08 – Proof
Her tombstone stands in the hidden clearing, a stone-cold proof of her untimely departure from this world; I saw her body too, watched her friends carry it away… yet every time I lay my eyes on that tombstone, I feel the urge to defy its meaning.
#09 – Ugly
Even a seasoned monster like me feels hollowed out when grief rears its ugly head and immortality suddenly feels like a curse for the first time in decades.
#10 – Book
I try to do things by the book, try to remember how she would like them done; it’s bloody hard, but it’s the least I can do to honor her legacy.
#11 – Brood
I am not the brooding type; it’s a bloody cliché and something that Angel has already been mastering for over a century—so when the ghost of her memory won’t let me sleep, I just drown my sorrow in the nearest bottle of booze.
#12 – Mesh
The sodding Scoobies and I will never mesh; I could never really stand them anyway and Buffy is—was—the only reason why I tolerated their presence; now I stick around for Dawn—I’ve got a promise to keep.
#13 – Soft
The dirt covering her grave still looks soft and freshly turned; only a few lonely blades of grass are marking the passing of the weeks.
#14 – Shelf
Last night I thought of nicking a picture of Buffy to place it on the shelf above my telly—but then I thought better of it, and I placed a lit candle there; she wouldn’t approve of me nicking anything of hers, even if it were for nobler reasons than the ones I had before.
#15 – Alone
One would think that loneliness and immortality go hand in hand by definition, but it’s not always like that; and I’ve been alone before, but this is bloody different—like the silence comes to swallow me whole.
#16 – Fall
Every night I still dream of her fall, and every night I make up a new way to save her; but it’s all still just a bloody dream that shatters when reality creeps in.
#17 – Knot
There’s a knot in my gut every time I catch Dawn wiping her tears away, trying to hide her pain; she’s been brought to life as a teenager less than a year ago only to watch her beloved mum and sister die—she might have been timeless supernatural energy once, but she’s just a bereaved kid now.
#18 – Crowd
The Bronze is packed and people are dancing their troubles away; I wish I could join them, but I doubt it’d help—even in a crowd, I feel like a ghost.
#19 – Denial
Some nights I wander through Sunnydale’s cemeteries alone, after the mandatory patrol with the Scoobies—and a part of me still expects to see her pop out from behind a crypt… denial’s a cruel companion.
#20 – Train
I had to chase a fledgling all the way to Sunnydale’s train station tonight, and for a second, I wished I could catch the next ride, leave everything behind… but I’ve still got a promise to keep.
#21 – Fur
I noticed that Dawn’s collection of stuffed animals has grown, it features Mr. Gordo now—Buffy’s favorite stuffed pig; she’ll wear out his short fake fur by clutching it like an armor in her sleep.
#22 – Chrome
Lately I’ve been spending way too much time detailing my car, but concentrating on polishing its chrome accents helps me keep my thoughts of her at bay… most of the time.
#23 – Heart
The harshest lesson I’ve learned these past few weeks is that you don’t need to have a beating heart for it to break… undead unbeating hearts break just fine.
#24 – Intention
They say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions… I guess it’s true, because I intended to keep Dawn safe but I failed her—I failed both of them—and now I’m in hell; the world without her in it will be my personal hell forever.
#25 – Push
We don’t talk of Buffy that much, Dawn and I, but she’s still the glue keeping us together; she’s there when Dawn pushes me to lay off drinking so much; she’s there I push Dawn to go out and see her friends, enjoy the summer—it’s what Buffy would want for her.
#26 – Look
Looks can be deceiving; the sodding bot is strutting around wearing Buffy’s look and her clothes, and so far it’s been good enough to fool the local demon population… but I was the fool when I thought a bloody robot could ever replace her.
#27 – Weight
The weight of her absence grows heavier every day, as does the weight of my guilt knowing how much I failed her.
#28 – Spider
A spider in the corner of the ceiling’s been spinning its web for days—sometimes I just lie awake, watching it, letting the meaningless time pass me by.
#29 – Robe
Dawn and Willow had a huge fight today when the Little Bit found out that Red had picked up Buffy’s robe and washed it with her laundry; she’d seen Dawn using it and thought it was a nice gesture… she should have known better.
#30 – Umbrella
Rain hit Sunnydale hard tonight—seemed like a good moment to visit Buffy’s grave… no umbrella, just me and my own tears.
#31 – Surface
If it weren’t for my promise to keep Dawn safe, I wouldn’t bother staying here; but I keep it all beneath the surface—rage, regret, the way reading her name engraved on that cold gravestone still wrecks me.
#32 – Idea
I had the barmy idea to write her a poem tonight—I recited it at her grave and then I burned it.
#33 – Diamond
Sometimes I look up at the stars and search for the brightest one… I imagine that’s how she looks up there, a shining diamond embracing everything with her light—effulgent.
#34 – Blind
I was blind when I thought I’d be deserving of her affection… I know that now and I wish I’d spent more time enjoying her presence instead of always finding new ways to antagonize her.
#35 – Flow
Days and nights and weeks and months have been passing in the constant flow of time—I still think that time should have stopped when her heart stopped beating.
#36 – Movement
Even with the relentless passing of time, some days hurt like the first and every movement I make feels like I’m walking through molasses—each step heavier than the previous one, without her.
#37 – More
I’d give more than my unlife to bring her back, because she’s worth so much more; if I could go back and trade places with her, I would—but I can’t.
#38 – Honey
I heard Tara say that she made tea with honey for Dawn last night because it helps with nightmares; I know the witch means well, but no amount of honey in the world could rid Dawn of her nightmares.
#39 – Weather
The weather turned tonight, with the changing of the season—summer is officially over now according to the calendar, but for me it was already over when she exhaled her last breath.
#40 – Blue
The sky is still blue, the sun is still shining… and she is still gone; I’ve been counting the days, one by one, scratching them on the wall like inmates do: a hundred and forty days today—might as well be years.
#41 – Double
They’re still using the bot as a Buffy double, and I hate every second that thing gets to walk around wearing her face; but I know I only have myself to blame—for building the sodding robot, and for failing to keep Dawn safe when it truly mattered.
#42 – Braid
I’m afraid that Dawn might be getting used to the cold comfort of having the bot around; last night she had the bot braid her hair—like both Buffy and Joyce used to do—and I learned that was a new program recently installed by Willow, per Dawn’s request.
#43 – Thread
These days everyone seems to be hanging on by thread—thin, frayed, tense—and I can’t put my finger on it, but I swear there’s a strange vibe in the air.
#44 – Angles
One thing I learned from the bloody Hellions that are raiding Sunnydale, is that word got out that the Slayer is a robot—now it’s only a matter of time before hoards of demons start swarming in from all angles.
#45 – Daydream
For a moment it felt like a daydream, to watch her walk down the stairs; I almost didn’t let myself believe it until her scent eventually hit my nostrils, so unmistakably hers—Buffy.
#46 – Nightmare
I can’t decide whether this is where my nightmare ends or where hers begins; ripped out of Heaven, clawing her way out of her own grave… she’s back for real, but at what cost?
#47 – Honor
I made her a promise, once again, and once again I'm going to honor said promise; if it were for me, I’d tell her sodding friends exactly what they did to her when they brought her back… but it’s not my story to tell, so I won’t.
#48 – Palm
Her palm brushed mine tonight—barely a touch as I handed her the stake during patrol, but it lit me up like fire.
#49 – Screen
I look away from my TV screen when I hear the crypt door creak open; I know it’s her, because she’s been coming here almost every night—she just sits with me in silence, listening to my ramblings.
#50 – Warmth
The weather is much colder now, but there’s warmth in my hollow heart now that she is back.