A New Start

Chapter One - Alive

By Crow Skywalker


Disclaimer – Don't own BtVS or its characters. They belong to Joss.

Author's Notes – I started writing this after I saw the last episode of BtVS, and I finally finished the first chapter. I'm currently working on a lot of fics, so I don't know how often this fic will be updated, but I do hope to update it and finish it. But anyway, R&R, and I hope you enjoy! :)

Pairings/Warnings – Rated R for language and sexual themes. Spike/Buffy. You've been warned.

Summary – Set after "Chosen". The Powers have given Spike a second chance at life and love.


She stood before him, tears running down her pale cheeks as she watched him through watering eyes. She was beautiful, the light shining on her face made her glow. She was some kind of goddess – an angel, sent down from heaven for him to love. His angel.

"I love you." She whispered.

He smiled, looking at the woman he loved for the last time. He was about to sacrifice himself to save the world – to save her. "No you don't. But thanks for saying it."

His eyes snapped open, and he immediately closed them again in the harsh light. The bright white room hurt his eyes, so he kept them shut, listening to his surroundings. Where was he? What happened? The only noise he could hear was the steady beep of a machine not too far away.

"Where am I?" He asked out loud with a shaky voice, opening his eyes and shielding them as he looked around. He almost jumped as someone answered, cursing his senses. He had thought he was alone – he had not smelled or heard anyone else in the room.

"Hospital." The voice answered simply, and the room once again fell into silence, except for the beeping of the machine. Spike turned his head to look in the direction of the noise, a look of annoyance upon his face. It was a heartbeat monitor, set up to his left showing the steady heartbeat of someone…

"Haven't felt that in a while, have you?" Came the same voice, and Spike wondered just who was talking to him "You having a heartbeat and everything, I mean."

Spike almost snorted at that idea. Him have a heartbeat? That was impossible. – he was dead, long dead too. Vampires didn't have heartbeats.

"Who are you?" He finally asked.

"The name's Whistler." The voice replied, and Spike finally spotted the source of the voice. A man stood at the foot of his bed, leaning against the railing. "You might not have heard of me.."

Spike suddenly remembered something Angelus had told him a long, long time ago. "Angel.."

"Ah, well, maybe you have heard of me after all!" The man said, standing now and walking around the room. "That makes explaining things a bit more easier for me."

"Explaining?" Spike mumbled, finally growing tired of the harsh whiteness of the room and closing his eyes.

"Well I'm sure you've noticed by now that you're alive," Whistler went on to say, "And by alive I mean a living, breathing human."

Human? Spike snorted at that. He was a vampire! What was this guy going on about?

The blinds to the nearby window shot open, and Spike immediately sat up and tried to move away from the sunlight that was pouring in. He was used to his vampire reflexes, it had saved him from becoming a pile of dust many times. However, this time he was hooked up to too many things and couldn't get away…and it seemed like the skin that should be smoldering in the light…wasn't.

"You're not a vampire anymore." Said Whistler, letting go of the string he had pulled to open the blinds, but Spike paid no attention to him. He was staring at the sunlight that should have been burning him. "Sit back down, Spike. I still have more explaining to do."

"You bloody well do!" Answered Spike, laying back down on the hospital bed, which was now covered in sunlight. He stared at the sheets. This was all very strange to him, like a dream.

Whistler laughed. "This isn't a dream, kiddo. This is real."

Spike looked up, glaring at the other man. "For fuck's sake, stay out of my head!" He warned him.

Whistler raised both hands. "Okay, okay. I have better things to do then read your perverted little mind, don't worry." He moved around the bed, taking a seat next to the heartbeat monitor, but not before studying the green line. "Everything went as it was supposed to – Buffy killed Caleb, went down into the Hellmouth, the potential Slayers got their powers – this was all foreseen. However, what wasn't foreseen was you, with that amulet."

He paused, looking back at Spike. "It was Angel's gift, you know. He was supposed to be the one wearing that amulet when the time came. It was a gift from the Powers for helping all the people he's saved, and for redeeming himself. The Powers have been watching him for a long time, and they decided to award him. They gave him the amulet."

"What does any of this have to do with me?" Spike snapped, obviously annoyed. He hated Angel, and he certainly didn't want to talk about the poofter's reward for being Mr. Nice Guy.

"It has everything to do with you," Whistler told him, sitting back in his chair, "Because in the end, you got Angel's reward. You got your humanity, your life back."

"So you're telling me, Angel was supposed to be sitting in this bed right now, all warm and not dead?" Spike asked.

Whistler nodded, and Spike raised an eyebrow. "Sucks to be him then. Lost what he supposedly deserved to someone who certainly didn't deserve it."

"Well that's the thing," Whistler went on to say, "You did deserve it, in a way."

Spike was giving him a confused 'what the hell are you talking about?' look now, and he had to laugh. "The Powers have been watching you for a long time now, Spike. They've watched how you've changed over the years. Not only did you start doing good things, but you did it on your own free will. You didn't have a soul like Angel does, and you could have easily gotten that chip taken out of your head. You chose to do those things, the demon still inside you, even before the soul. The Powers were greatly impressed."

"When they realized that it was you who was going to wear the amulet, they could have easily taken the reward back. They could have left you as a pile of dust among the sand that what used to be Sunnydale. But they saw that you were ready to sacrifice yourself for the greater good, and they saw how you gave your life so that others could live. They decided that you deserved your reward, just as much as Angel did." Whistler finished, and silence fell between them.

"I'm…really alive?" Spike asked, lifting a hand to his heart and feeling the steady beat. It was all really kind of hard to believe – he'd been dead for centuries, and he didn't remember what it was like to be a living, breathing human.

From beside him, Whistler nodded. "You've got a second chance now, what do you plan to do with it?"

Spike shook his head, coming out of his daze. "I don't know." He looked up at the other man, "Is Sunnydale really gone?"

"Nothing left but a pile of rubble." He confirmed.

"Is everyone..?"

Whistler smirked. "They all made it out okay, don't worry. They're safe, currently staying in some hotels outside of L.A, I believe."

"Buf –"

Whistler cut him off, "She's fine too. A little shaken, but she made it out just in time, thanks to you."

Spiked sighed in relief, which felt weird considering he'd never really had to breathe before.

"This is going to have to take some getting used to." He admitted.

"I'd say." Grinned Whistler.

"Do they know –"

"No, they don't know you're alive." Whistler told him, "They think you're nothing but a pile of ashes. Won't they be surprised?"

Spike nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. This was his chance to start over, to do things differently. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to face the others just yet. He had to get used to being alive, and he had things to do before he finally let himself known. "Don't –"

"I won't tell them, don't worry." Whistler finished for him with a knowing smile, and Spike frowned at the other man.

"Didn't I tell you to stop picking in my bloody head?"

"Sorry, it was just really tempting." Whistler grinned.

"Yeah, well stop it!" He snapped, pulling the sheets away from him as he tried to sit up.

"Or what? You'll bite me?" The grin on Whistler's face widened, and Spike rolled his eyes. "So, kiddo, what's your first move?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I plan on getting the hell out of this hospital and away from you!" Answered Spike, ripping the tubes and things that were attached to him off as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"So you plan on walking out of here in your hospital nightgown and roaming the streets, huh?" Whistler stood now, watching as Spike stood on shaky legs and glared at him. Whistler smirked, "Didn't think about that one, did you?"

Spike looked down, finally noticing that he was indeed dressed in the blue clothes that hospital patients normally wore. "Bloody hell! Where are my clothes?"

"Torn to shreds, I'd imagine." Answered Whistler, and he grinned wildly. "But if you ask real nice, I might buy you some new clothes and allow you to stay at my place."

Spike looked at the other man as if he were crazy.

"What?" He asked, and then shrugged, "Fine, wander around the streets like that. But just remember, you're not a vampire anymore, and it gets pretty chilly at night." He made to leave, and Spike stopped him.

Sighing, Spike gave in. "Fine." He looked Whistler up and down in distaste, "But I'm picking out my own clothes."

"Hey!" Whistler looked slightly offended, "Nothing wrong with the clothes I wear!"

Spike snorted. "Yeah, right."

To Be Continued…