A hint of a suggestion of slash here and a hint of the relationship that shall not be named... but mainly this is about Spike after he got his soul.

White city

Author: Lilithangel

Email: <mailto:abchainey@xtra.co.nz>abchainey@xtra.co.nz

Website: <http://www.livejournal.com/users/lilithbint>www.livejournal.com/users/lilithbint

Fandom: BtVS

Character: Spike

Genre: angst, character study

Warnings/Ratings: suitable for all readers.

Disclaimer: If he were mine he would not cry so much.

Summary: How did Spike get back from Africa after getting his soul? I am assuming it was mainly by boat so in response to the taming_the_muse prompt Mecca; here is part of his journey.A/N: this piece deliberately wanders as I attempted to capture Spike's mental state after getting his soul and starting to deal with the guilt. I took my ideas about the city from this site <http://www.sacredsites.com/middle_east/saudi_arabia/mecca.html>http://www.sacredsites.com/middle_east/saudi_arabia/mecca.html


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The boat brought me to this place of dust and prayers. It wasn't where I planned to go, but the boat insisted on sailing here pushed on by the belief of the faithful.

I envy them that direction. I had direction but she died and what came back couldn't guide me anymore. My dead flesh could not give her bearing and we got lost in each other.

Hurt the girl... hurt all the girls. Couldn't be what she wanted didn't know how. Thought I knew what to do but it hurts so bad.

She couldn't love me but she loved him. So I'm eating rats like he did, feeling the ache like he did. Would she love me now or will he always be the one, for both of us?

It must burn him too why didn't he tell me it would burn?

Would have stayed on the boat but they sent the rat catcher in to find the source of the scrabbling. Belief is stronger in this dry world so they weren't just looking for rats.

I walked through the dust to the city. No hotter than where I came from but still it itches through my skin.

White city, old city seeped in history and more blood than I could ever shed. Jumble of new and ancient pressed up close, but still enough space for one more rat.

Should not be here, unbeliever and unclean. They would execute me if they found me, but I am red dust to their eyes, just another rat. Covered in white to hide me I slip through the darkness listening, looking for another step in my journey west. Another boat returning the faithful to their earthly realm to take this sinner home.

Calls to prayer chase me back into the darker shadows as thousands of feet move closer and closer to their god.

My god left me long ago; I don't think their god would be any more forgiving. Would she forgive me if I asked? Would he?

So many people so much blood pumping flesh calling to be defiled. Hurt the girl, have to pay for that.

Circles of the devoted, if I touch their holy stone will I burn? Would their god see my sin and strip away the skin to free the spark from this unholy flesh?

Would she dig it out and let me rest? Forgive me mother for I have sinned.

But I can't rest the spark won't let me. Scrabbling like a rat inside my mind showing up my dirty secrets, and William's bad, bad thoughts.

I wished them dead and I was killed but did not die. I tore them into tiny pieces pinned them to the earth with sharp, sharp pain. Took another name but it was still bad William who did those things.

Pain in my head and a burning inside I whisper my apologies to the rats again. I wouldn't kill you if I didn't have to. You deserve to live as much as any of us. Fight against the darkness even if it does say sorry when it kills you.

The call pulls me west to where she is and where my god is. Dust will be my end and dust calls me. So I'm sorry little rat that I must take your life, but she has dominion over mine despite all that happened. If I am to be red dust then she must decide. Your blood will bring me back to her, so thank you and goodbye.