Title: Impossible
Author: Gyrus
Disclaimer: BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER and its characters are the creations of Joss Whedon and the property of Fox Television. That includes Spike, so get your mitts off him, ladies.
Rating: PG, for language.
Summary: Spike considers Buffy's words to him in "After Life".


I wish she hadn't told me.

On the one hand, yeah, it's great that she thought she could tell me something she couldn't tell the others. She knows I won't judge her, or pity her, or go running to any of her little Scoobies and pass the word. I s'pose that's the advantage of having a friend who thinks all your other friends are wankers.

'Course, on the other hand, maybe she only told me because I DON'T matter to her. Maybe she just had to get it out somehow, and I was just the nearest place to unload. Giles is on the other side of the pond, and she can't very well drop a big, emotional dumbbell like that on the Niblet. Maybe I'm just the one whose feelings Buffy doesn't worry about hurting.

The reason doesn't matter, I suppose. It hurts anyway.

Not that it isn't interesting to find out there's a Heaven. You do good in life, and when you die, God takes you into His arms for a big, eternal snuggle. Fan-bloody-tastic.

So how many vampires d'ya think go there?

Not a one, I'd reckon. 'Cept maybe Angel, one of these days, when someone finally gives the big poofter a hardwood thoracotomy.

Point is, I'M not likely to end up there. And while I don't fancy a cuddle with the Powers That Annoy, I'm also not keen on spending eternity in a completely different universe from hers.

Assuming, of course, that I'm not already having my afterlife. Oh, THERE'S a nasty bit of uncertainty, that maybe there's just a big dusty nothing waiting for me at the end of this. Anticlimactic, that'd be.

But none of that is really what gets me. What gets me is this:

Used to be, when something went wrong in her life, I could do something. I could fight alongside her, or watch out for Little Sis, or even just listen, y'know? It wasn't usually much, but it was something. I could make a difference. Make her feel a little better, a little safer, take one little weight off her shoulders.

What can I do now?

How can I make her feel better? She's been given the greatest reward there is. She's known perfect love, peace, wholeness, and all that. What could I say to her or give her or do for her that could even come close to that? What happiness could I bring her, even for a moment, that would seem like anything besides a shadow, a...a mockery, of what she used to have?

She is in pain every minute of every day. And there is nothing I can ever do to make it better. Hell, I can't even kill her and send her back.

That's what hurts so much - knowing that I'm so bleeding helpless to do anything for her.

It would be easier if I didn't know. I could just go on trying to cheer her up, keep blundering ahead with kind words and stolen flowers and bent-up boxes of chocolate. They wouldn't help, of course, but I wouldn't know that. I could just dream the impossible dream, never knowing about the 'impossible' part.

But I s'pose I'm going to try anyway, aren't I?

Look at me. I'm a walking corpse with no soul in love with a mystical warrior who's back from the dead. I live in a town that every creature you can imagine, some creatures you can't imagine, and even a god or two have come to visit.

Who am I to say what's impossible?