| A month after The Initiative placed the chip in his head, Spike began to have the dream. It was one side-effect of the chip that he was much too embarrassed to complain about. He felt perfectly justified in ranting about his inability to bite, hit or otherwise damage the human population to anyone who’d listen. But this other thing, this recurring dream, and what he’d do afterwards when he’d awaken, was just plain perverted as far as he was concerned. He’d kill himself before he’d tell anyone. Wasn’t it enough that they thought him a fool? Made him the brunt of their Scooby jokes? Still, hidden away in a secret niche of his crypt he kept the evidence. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t destroy it. A few times, the fleeting thought crossed his mind that maybe he should plunk down a few bucks and visit a psychiatrist to have his dreams and actions analyzed; but he couldn’t bear to risk the humiliation that would surely follow: “Mr. Spike, is it?” “Yeah.” Staring at the floor. Looking at her clipboard. “You’ve got a problem?” Yeah.” “Recurring nightmare?” “Oh, God, yes.” Adjusts bifocals and smiles. “Why don’t you describe it detail.” “Bad.” “You know you’re going to have to be a little more forthcoming in order for this therapy to work.” “Don’t need therapy. Just tell me what the damn dream means.” “In order for me to do that, Mr. Spike, you’ll have to tell me what the dream was.” “Oh.” Gazes nervously around. “You won’t tell anybody, right?” “Right.” Bluffs.“’Cause I’ll have to kill you if you do.” “Right.” Nervously fiddling with her cell phone. Deep, unnecessary breath. “I’m in a park.” A look of anguish. “There’s flowers.” “And do these flowers frighten you?” Puffs out chest and growls. “What do you think?!” “I’m sorry, please continue.” “I’m happy. Long pause. “She’s there.” Looks depressed. “She?” “Not naming names.” “Alright, let me summarize. You’re in a park, surrounded by flowers. There’s a beautiful woman. You’re happy.” “Didn’t say anything ‘bout the woman being beautiful.” “Ok, there’s a woman, period. Is it someone you know?” “Well, yeah. What do you think I am? A raging psychotic writing love poems to a woman I don’t know?” “Oh. Poems”. Gets an embarrassed look on her face. “Is that what happens when you wake up?” Growls. “How old did you say you were?” Mumbles. “One hundred thirty-six.” “I see”. Scribbles furiously on her clipboard. “Let’s discuss you being ‘happy’. Is that stressful for you?” “Damn unnatural. I told you I was a vampire.” “Perhaps it’s another persona emerging from your subconscious.” Looks pained. “Can’t I stuff it back?” “These things can’t be ‘stuffed’ you know. There’s always consequences.” FIN dark dreams fic |
| From Beneath You It Devours Spike - Season Four |
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