Obligations.

When I was human, a quarter of a millennia - or so - ago, I shirked my obligations to my family. It wasn’t that I was expected to do anything horrible or anything, there was no prearranged marriage, or being sent to the monastery or anything like that. I was just expected to act like a decent young man, take a wife, have children, run my fathers business until he died and it became mine.

Obviously that isn’t what happened. I didn’t want to be the man my father hoped I would be. Instead, I set out to ruin not only myself, but my fathers good name as well just by being unfortunate enough to have spawned me. I stole, I lied, I spent every waking hour drinking, brawling and keeping the company of tavern whores.

That’s what attracted Darla’s attention. If I had only lived up to my obligations, I would have never become a vampire, I would never have slaughtered countless thousands of innocent people, and I would not be responsible for the creation of three other master vampires, two of which are still alive - or undead - whatever.

As Angelus, I had obligations as well. I’m ashamed to say that as the demon I lived up to my obligations, I taught my childer to hunt, to kill, to toy with their prey. I made sure that they could survive on their own, even my mad, lovely Drusilla. She was insane, but she was far stronger than she looked and her visions told her about impending danger.

When I received my soul, I fled. I left my sire and my childer, in short I fled my obligations once again. I could not look at them and see what I had made - a family. A family that respected me, listened to me, and reveled in my love of excess. They did not judge me for how many I killed or how much I drank, they loved me. But with my soul intact, I could not be the hunter that I was, I would appear weak to them. So I shirked my obligations and fled.

That was a century ago, give or take a few years. I lived on the fringes of humanity, stuck to myself mostly. I fed off of rats and other animals. I ignored the world around me, ignored the people in trouble who I could have helped if I were inclined to do so. But I wasn’t. I felt no obligation to these people.

Then Whistler found me. He showed me a lovely young girl sitting in the sunlight and told me she would die with out my help. Suddenly I wanted to help her, to save her. Funny that, a vampire wanting to help the slayer. But I did. I felt something for her that I hadn’t felt in a very long time. An obligation.

Because I loved her, I lost my soul and became Angelus again. My childer were there to greet me again, my sweet Drusilla welcomed me with opened arms, William - Spike as he likes to call himself now - did not. He resented me for abandoning them, for not fulfilling my obligations. He said the soul didn’t matter to him, that he would have helped me, that he would have loved me anyway. But not now. It was too late for that now.

He resented my presence, my William did. He hated that Dru spent her days in my bed now that I was returned to her. He hated that he was crippled and I didn’t help him. I wasn’t obligated to, he wasn’t my Wil anymore. My Wil was sweet, loving, and tender - when we were alone at least. He was a vicious hunter, had a thirst for violence and blood. He was everything I wanted as a demon. But this Spike, he was rude, harsh, arrogant, he hated me, he couldn’t hunt, he was stuck in a wheelchair for God’s sake. I had no pity for him.

He got even. William was always crafty, Spike it seemed was as well. He made a deal with Buffy to stop my evil plan. May I interject here that I am very thankful he did? Well, I am. He double-crossed me, took Drusilla and left Buffy to run a sword through me - after Willow had restored my soul.

Centuries in hell and I still felt an obligation to Buffy. I still loved her. I came back for her but things were strained between us now. We could never have what we wanted but we tried to fool ourselves that what we did have was enough. It wasn’t. And eventually I proved true to form and I shirked my obligations to her and I left town.

LA has been good for me. I’ve made friends with both new people and old. My first friend, Doyle, passed away while saving my life. I miss him terribly but his sacrifice saved a lot of people, and good demons. He understood being obligated. He didn’t run away when the chips were down. For that - and a lot of other things - he’s a better man than I will ever be.

Now, I have a chance to atone. Wil needs me. He went and got himself a soul. I don’t know why, Buffy never told me. She just said to come and get him, that he needed help and I was the only one who could help him. I feel like I have an obligation to him now. I alone understand the pain he is going through, the horrors he must bear witness to every time he closes his eyes.

I stand outside Xander Harris’ apartment door and wonder how my childe ended up living here. I don’t understand it, Harris has no obligation to help Spike. Hell the boy hates vampires in general, so why is he allowing one to live with him? Spike may have a soul but so do I and I know I would never be invited to live here with him. Not that I would want to.

The door opens and I see my childe. He looks well. I’m confused. At this point, I was a mess. I hadn’t eaten in weeks, could barely sleep, couldn’t tell reality from fantasy. Xander watches me carefully, eventually he invites me in. I go to my Wil immediately, I assume he’s putting on a brave front so as not to look weak in front of the human.

When I get close enough, I smell it. Xander’s scent permeates my childe. Underneath that is the faintest trace of blood, Spike’s blood. My eyes bleed to yellow and I growl as I rip my childe’s shirt off. Lash marks. Some of them fresh, others are older. I’m stunned when Xander places himself between me and my now shaking childe. Spike clings to Xander and buries his face in his neck. Xander just glares at me and tells me not to touch Spike again… or else.

It makes a strange kind of sense to me now. Spike is handling this because of Xander. Because Xander gives him the pain he needs, but also the protection. I wonder how much easier my time would have been if I had had someone to do that for me? Would my William have given me the absolution that Xander gives Spike?

I turn to leave. I’m not wanted here, nor am I needed. I have no further obligations to Spike. He belongs to Xander now. They have both made their choices, I just hope they know what they’re getting into. With Buffy around, it won’t be easy, for either of them.