Hellbound
Spike: Bloody sad ghost I turned out.
Fred: I've told you before you're not a ghost.
Spike: Chipper. Give us a hug.
Fred: You know what I mean. You're more than a common spectral disturbance. I've never seen anything like you.
Spike: Bet you say that to all the spirits.
Fred: Is everything... are you...
Spike: Feeling the tug of eternal damnation? Maybe that's why I can't tough anything. Using all my mentalies just to keep from slipping into hell.
Fred: I've been working on a theory. Well, more of a hunch, actually, but I think I'm getting close.
Spike: To making me a real boy again?
Fred: Heh. As real as a vampire with a soul can be.
Spike: And what in the King's English does that mean to the dearly almost departed?
Fred: We accepted the offer to take over the LA branch of an evil, multi-dimensional law firm because we thought we could make a difference. Use the resources of Wolfram & Hart to do something decent.
Angel: And how does that have anything to do with Spike?
Fred: He just saved the world. Vampire with a soul fighting for the good of humanity. Ring anything? He's just like you, a champion.
Angel: God, I really hate that word.
Angel: I just want you to be careful, Fred, beacuse I know how charming Spike can be.
Eve: He is quite the dish, with those eyes...
Fred: And the hair and the cheeks and what do you think I am, stupid? I know he's been playing me with the looks and the smiles. I'm not some idiot schoolgirl with a crush.
Angel: Then what is it?
Fred: It's about doing what's right. Remember?
Angel: Your department. Your call. Just don't be disappointed if it doesn't work. Some people can't be saved.
Spike: Never a fetching mad scientist about when you need one.
Spike: Vampire ghost here, ya sod. Bloody well invented afraid of the dark... Bugger this. I'm not playing follow the blinking light for the rest of th... All right. Lured me here with the creepshow. Now what?
Spike: Just thought we could hang is all. Couple of vampires from the old days doing our... hangy thing.
Angel: You're starting to feel it, aren't you? How close you are now... to hell?
Spike: Fred told me all about your great, shining prophecy. Pile up all your good deeds and get the big brass ring handed to you like everything else.
Angel: Except for one small catch. The prophecy's a bunch of bull. They all are. Nothing's written in stone or fated to happen, Spike. You save the world, you end up running an evil law firm.
Spike: Or playing Casper with one foot in the fryer.
Angel: You think any of it matters? The things we did? The lives we destroyed. That's all that's ever gonna count. So, yeah, surprise. You're going to hell. We both are.
Spike: Then why even bother? Try to do the right thing, make a difference...
Angel: What else are we gonna do?
Spike: So that's it, then. I really am going to burn.
Angel: Welcome to the club.
Spike: Never much for small talk, were you? Always too busy trying to perfect that brooding block of wood mystique. God, I love that.
Angel: Not as much as I loved your nonstop yammering.
Spike: The way you always had to be the big swingy, swaggerin around, barkin orders...
Angel: Never listening...
Spike: Always interrupting...
Angel: And your hair. What color do they call that, radioactive?
Spike: Never much cared for you, Liam, even when you were evil.
Angel: Cared for you less.
Spike: Fine.
Angel: Good... There was one thing about you...
Spike: Really?
Angel: Yeah, I never told anybody this, but I liked your poems.
Spike: You like Barry Manilow.
Voice: She can't help you now, William. No one can.
Spike: Is this the part where I say, 'who's there?' And something creepy happens?... Thought so.
Wes: Spike has been unintentionally disappearing more and more frequently.
Gunn: Give him 20 minutes. He'll be popping up next to you in the bathroom, making cracks about you... Am I the only one he does that to?
Fred: You don't know what Spike's dealing with, where he goes when he disappears. He told me. It's hell... He's slipping into hell.
Gunn: Kinda figured.
Wes: Of course.
Gunn: Where else would he be headed?
Spike: Had to be the basement.
Glass Ghost Woman: Reaper's gonna take you.
Spike: The reaper? Tall, grim fellow with a scythe? Is that what all this boogie boogie's been about?
Spike: Come one. Just... reach out.
Wes: 'Representatives from Wolfram & Hart were looking to build a new branch in what would eventually become Los Angeles. Unfortunately a Spanish mission was already resting on the site their seers recommended.' They needed an appropriate sacrifice to deconsecrate the grounds.
Fred: So this place is built on the blood of a mass murdering psychopath?
Wes: It would appear so.
Pavayne/Reaper: Vampire soul.. watch it struggle. More fun than the others.
Spike: Go to hell.
Pavayne: Your journey, not mine.
Pavayne: Still thinking like meat and bone. None, here boy. In this place... all rules are mine. Reality bends. My desire. The way it was meant to...
Spike: Bending reality? I didn't just fade away. It was you. That's why they can't see me anymore.
Pavayne: Parlor tricks. To amuse... like your blood... Oh, yes. Nothing here without the will. Your voice... your body...
Glass Ghost Woman: Clothes you think you wear...
Pavayne: William the Bloody. Scourge and destroyer. But scratch the surface...
Armless Ghost Woman: Little nancy, still crying for his mother.
Pavayne: Know all your hiddens, dirty red things you've done. Then fell in love. Won himself a soul. No more dirty things. Thinks himself special.
Glass Ghost Woman: Thinks it matters.
Hanging Ghost Man: Hell still waits.
Pavayne: Knows he deserves it, like all the others.
Pavayne: Hell always hungers for the wicked, boy, and it's feeding time.
Angel: The white room?
Gunn: Why do you think they call it that? And how are we still in the building, when we're standing in a place that technically doesn't exist.
Angel: Last conduit took the form of the creepy little girl. No telling what the new one's decided to look like.
Gunn: Actually, it's not that bad... if you like cats.
Angel: I'm kind of a dog person.
Gunn: Ix-nay on the og-day.
Pavayne: Look... hell knows you're ready, plump and ripe. Beginning to understand, aren't you? The soul that blesses you... damns you to suffer forever.
Spike: You're right. I do deserve to go to hell. But not today.
Pavayne: You dare!
Spike: Quite a bit, mate. Reality bends to desire. That was it, right? That's why I could touch Fred, write your name in the glass. All I had to do was want it bad enough... And guess what I want to do now, you prissy son of a bitch!
Spike: Not so much fun when we hit back, is it?
Pavayne: Starting to be.
Angel: It talks? I didn't hear it talk.
Gunn: Maybe you weren't listening right.
Pavayne: This won't do. This won't do at all.
Pavayne: Decisions. The girl... hehe... or the flesh. There's no time for both.
Fred: Just proves what I've been telling everybody.
Spike: That I'm a handsome devil who brightens he place up?
Fred: That you're worth saving.
Spike: I guess there's worse things... than being a ghost.
Eve: If there's anything Wolfram & Hart excels at, it's keeping their unmentionables unmentioned.
Angel: Congratulations. You get to live forever, unable to move, to touch, or to feel... or to affect anything in the world around you. But don't worry I had em give you a window... Welcome to hell.