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Author's Chapter Notes:
R&R please! Remember to read part 2 as well :) Have a good weekend everyone!
Pain.

Darkness.

(I can’t see.)

Things tight, binding, cutting into skin.

(I can’t move.)

Struggling, heat.

(My face)

Voices now, talking, getting louder, a bright light, pain.

(HELP ME!)

Alec lurched up out of bed, screaming. Willow and Giles grabbed for his left arm, as blades erupted out of the skin of his right arm, which was lashed down just for this reason.

“Alec!” Giles yelled, trying to get his wounded son under control. Alec looked up at him with his one eye through the mask of bandages.

“Shhh!” Willow tried to soothe, stroking his forehead though there was precious little skin left uncovered by gauze.

A tear, a snap and the bonds surrounding Alec’s right arm were torn free. He lurched up, waving the bladed appendage at them, eyes wide yet not seeing, still locked in whatever nightmare he had woken from. The pair backed away hurriedly as Faith rushed into the room.

“D!” she cried out. Like a terrified animal, Alec lurched out of bed attempting to stand. His legs folded under him like wilted flowers. Vainly he tried to steady himself on a wooden table. His bladed arm dug into it knocking it over and spilling a bowl of water and a mirror to the stone floor. All shattered, spraying him with cold water, he fell hard upon the broken glass, cutting himself.

“Alec,” Willow whispered kneeling next to him, careful to avoid the bladed arm, now embedded solidly into the broken remains of the table as Alec looked at himself for the first time in the jagged shards of mirror strewn upon the floor

Nearly his entire face was bandaged, both of his eyes were swollen, one had been ruptured; even now his sclera was a bloody red. His nose had been badly broken and was swathed in bandages. He had several stitches in his face; his jaw was swollen and purple, also bandaged. The effect made his face look like it had been broken into several pieces and then hastily stitched back together.

Trembling, he touched his mutilated face with his fingers, then pulled away as he noticed that he was smearing blood on his soiled bandages. He looked down at his hand and saw a single glittering piece of glass protruding from his palm. The blades retracting from his right arm as his fear and terror gave way to something else, he slowly pulled the glass shard from his palm, grimacing. For a moment he held the piece of red glass before his eyes, his friends and family exchanging worried looks. Numbly the glass fell from his shaking fingers and landed upon the pile of shards, splattering blood upon them. Alec looked down at them and now saw his broken face, tainted with his own blood reflected a thousand times.

Staring right up at him.

And with a low rising wail, Alec slumped as his spirit broke in horror at what the last 24 hours had done to him. Willow grabbed him before he impaled his face upon the pile of broken glass and held him as he sobbed bitterly.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured rocking him back and forth. Giles and Faith stepped forth to help him to their feet. Alec’s powerless legs could not support him but they managed to get him back on the cot, Willow kissing his face gently. Alec whimpered and tried to cover his face in shame with his bloody hands. Willow gently pushed them aside as Faith took his bloody hand and cleaned and redressed it. Alec looked away, tears running down his face, though no longer weeping, staring at nothing. Willow gently turned his head to face her,

“Hey, stay with me,” she whispered, “Please? I need you here,” She could only just meet his gaze; it was the look of one who had lost all will to live. For someone who had been as strong and vital as her lover, it was devastating to see. Faith finished with Alec’s hand and Willow took it from her, cradling it and placing a kiss on a patch of bare skin,

“I love you,” she whispered. Alec didn’t blink, his expression remained broken, but his hand did tighten around hers just slightly. Willow smiled as Giles rested a hand on his son’s shoulder,

“Son…” he whispered. Alec didn’t react but his heavily bandaged head turned slightly against the pillow toward his father’s voice. Giles took that as a good sign and squeezed his son’s shoulder.

Faith smiled at Alec, “Hey D, welcome back to the land of the living,” she quipped. Alec turned towards the sound, the only sign that he acknowledged anyone had spoken to him. Willow looked up at the two of them,

“Let everyone know he’s awake but tell them he needs his rest. How’s Buffy doing?” she asked Giles. Giles stuck his hands in his jeans and turned his head,

“She seems to be recovering well,” he replied carefully, “Though she too needs a goodly amount of rest,” Buffy had regained consciousness a few days ago, “She’s sleeping now, Spike’s with her,” he finished. Willow nodded and turned to Faith,

“How Ange-?” Suddenly, Willow gasped as Alec’s hand tightened painfully around hers. His breathing became rapid; his eyes opened wide in fear as a low moan of fear and pain came spilling out of his mouth. Willow’s heart leapt into her throat even as she pushed aside the pain in her hand, willing herself to squeeze back.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him. With agonizing slowness, Alec turned his mutilated face towards Faith. Faith exchanged a confused and panicked look with Giles before answering quickly,

“He’s fine!” she blurted out hurriedly, “We had to dig out a hell of a lot of lead out of his gut but he’s okay!” Willow turned in understanding to face Alec. His face remained pale and taunt for a moment, but then Faith’s words sank in and he relaxed. His death grip upon Willow’s hand relaxed and though her first instinct was to pull away and cradle her wounded appendage, Willow merely held her lover’s hand, giving no indication as to being injured in the least.

“It must have gotten beyond hairy in that cop-house,” Faith murmured. Willow cradled Alec’s broken face sadly taking in his vacant stare of empty despair,

“Yes, it was,” she replied quietly. Alec leaned his head into her touch slightly but his eyes never blinked and never warmed.

“So how is he?” Spike asked Faith a few minutes later. Faith looked over at him,

“He had his face pulverized, he was tortured beyond recognition and now he’s crippled. How would YOU be?” she replied testily. Spike shot her an ugly look,

“I don’t know, let me remember what it was like to have a bloody pipe organ dropped on me and be forced to spend months in a wheelchair while your mooching son of a bitch grandsire makes moves on my girl before I answer,” he snarled back. Faith’s eyes widened,

“Who dropped a pipe organ on you?” she asked amazed.

“Guilty,” Buffy put forth, meekly raising her hand, “But in my defense he was evil at the time. He was trying to kill Angel,”

“Not like the great poof didn’t deserve it,” Spike replied.

“He, ANGEL, never hit on your lady of the straitjacket; it wasn’t until he became Angelus that that happened,”

“Yeah, and let’s all remember who’s responsible for THAT too!” Spike snapped. Buffy flinched, remembering her role in Angel’s degradation into Angelus all those years ago. Spike saw the look on her still bruised and slightly battered face and sighed, reaching out to cup her cheek tenderly,

“I’m sorry love, I still have a bloody hangover from that spell Red threw and I’m a little strung out from fun at the 56th precinct,” he explained apologetically; Buffy blinked back the hurt from her face, smiled bravely and took Spike’s hand in hers squeezing it.

“You’re a bad, rude man,” Buffy quipped quietly. Spike chuckled and kissed her,

“So it’s been said, baby,” he replied, gently chucking her chin. Buffy smiled and turned to everyone else.

They were all assembled in Buffy’s bedroom. Buffy was still in bed, sitting propped up with pillows and leaning against the wall, a few bandages still on her face and arm, which was currently in a sling pressed against her chest. Spike was sitting next to her and occasionally offering restful support. Everyone else, except Angel, Willow and Alec were arrayed around the room, either in chairs, sitting on the floor or leaning against the wall.

“I think we need to get out of here,” Xander put forth, he turned to Giles, “Can your new girlfriend put us up for a few?” he asked wryly. Giles coughed and glared at him, shaking his head,

“I don’t think Alec can be safely moved yet, his wounds are still quite sensitive. The fact that his healing factor has not yet healed them suggests that there was extensive internal damage. He was, quite literally, nearly beaten to death,” Giles’ fist became white knuckled and his jaw clenched so tightly the sound of porcelain grinding against each other filled the room as he thought of what his son had been put through.

“Giles. Chill. I’m tweaking too, but we need to get our heads clear,” Buffy said sternly,

“You didn’t’ see him fresh out of there Buffy,” Dawn replied quietly looking up at her sister, “You don’t know,” Buffy glared at her,

“No, I didn’t, but I saw him get pummeled in the Nightmare Realm and take a bullet so I think that I’m allowed to talk about it,” she replied harshly, “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re the only one who’s pissed.” Dawn said nothing for a while then nodded,

“Sorry,” she replied sullenly going back to stare at the floor. Buffy sighed as Giles cleared his throat and nodded,

“Buffy’s right. Rage won’t help us now. What we need to do is figure out what’s next in acquiring the Worldless Psalm and the blood of the Neverborn and dealing with the Hellmouth,”

“Okay, so how do we do that?” Xander asked, “Our only lead was the Rabbi and he’s come down with a slight case of missing his face,” he commented. Anya frowned,

“Wasn’t Satara the one who recommended the rabbi in the first place?” She asked. Spike’s head jerked up and he sent a look to Faith, who was sending the same one back to him,

“Think she set us up?” he asked quietly.

“Only one way to find out,” she replied. Spike sighed,

“And after giving the performance of my unlife. No appreciation for talent,” he sighed. Giles held up a hand,

“Satara was recommended to us by Marlena. I for one refuse to believe that Marlena would send us to someone who would lead us into a trap,” he stated sternly. Spike glared over at him,

“This glowing endorsement wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you and she played “hide the tweed” a while back, would it?” he snorted. Giles’s face darkened more and he advanced on the vampire. Spike started to get up, ready for war when Buffy pulled him back down to the bed.

“Spike, enough,” Buffy warned. Spike gestured angrily at Giles,

“How are we supposed to trust this woman? What, because Captain Librarian here and she had a nice silver-haired snog, that makes this woman some kind of saint?”

“I trust her Spike. Do you trust me?” Buffy asked sternly. Spike stopped, then sighed and sat back down on the bed, muttering darkly. Giving Spike another reproachful look, Buffy turned to Giles,

“Giles I don’t think Marlena would steer us wrong, but Spike has a point. Satara may have Keyser Soze’d her. At any rate it’s worth following up. Maybe there’s something at that temple that can help us. A diary, journal of the Rabbi before he had his face removed; something that can help us.”

“And who gets to run this charming little errand? Shadow Boy was the only one of us who could both fight worth a damn and had half a brain towards the heebie jeebie stuff,” Spike put in dourly.

“I’ll go,” Giles said quietly. Spike looked at him agog.

“With that flesh thing still wandering out there, probably right now making new friends…literally and then driving them murderously insane?” He asked, stunned. Giles nodded,

“That’s right,” the Watcher replied calmly. Spike looked at him, then exhaled, chuckling, shaking his head,

“I take it back, forget the tweed. Balls of British steel indeed,” he quipped lightly before getting to his feet, “But don’t be thinking you’re the only one Mother Britannia so generously endowed. I’m in,” he finished. There were wry chuckles around the room,

“Steel huh?” Faith asked. Spike winked,

“That’s right, let lesser men and the French settle for brass,”

“God save the queen,” Xander cracked quietly. A few more quiet laughs, more to relieve the stress and despair pushing in on them all rather than from actual humor as Spike shrugged on his duster,

“Right then, let’s go perpetrate a felony,” he grinned enthusiastically, “or does breaking into temple count as sacrilege?’

“Spike, you may trust me when I say, your every act constitutes both,” Giles informed tiredly. Spike grinned and clapped the man on the shoulder,

“Thanks mate, I love you too,” he laughed. Giles groaned as Faith spoke up,

“Yo G, are you going to need some muscle?” she asked. Giles shook his head,

“With Angel, Alec and Buffy all on the mend, we need you to stay here just in case…”

“In case DeGanon tries to kill us all,” Spike finished. Faith grimaced and nodded,

“Hardcore. Got it,” she declared. Privately Faith wondered really how badly she’d need to stay here when they had a murderously powerful witch available. She kept these musings and fears though to herself for the moment.

“Guys? No heroics,” Buffy warned them, “You see anyone with a face like Silly Putty, get the hell out of there,” Giles nodded as Spike grinned,

“Luv, if I see anyone with a face like Silly Putty, I’ll know I’m on Madison Avenue, and I plan on shopping.”

“Ah the joys of Botox, life without facial expressions,” Xander chuckled as he gestured at Spike, “Maybe they can recommend a good nip/tuck clinic, get rid of those unsightly forehead ridges,”

More laughter as Spike made the classic obscene hand gesture. Xander put a hand over his heart,

“Spike, wherever did you learn such a thing?”

“Remember those nuns you cut off on the freeway? They were doing it while howling expletives at you,” Spike answered.

“Oh yeah,” Xander nodded in mock realizations, “I’d forgotten,”

“Honey, I spent a thousand years as a demon and even I wasn’t about to forget some of the words those old women were using,” Anya put in, kissing his cheek. More laughter as Spike held us hands,

“Yes yes, I’m a master of comedy. Time to go be brave,”

“Be careful,” Buffy said quietly. Spike nodded, peering out the door into the seemingly empty hallway in the gypsy stronghold.

“Yeah, you too luv,” he replied meaningfully. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,”

Giles frowned, “I didn’t know you had read Sun Tzu, Spike.” Spike shook his head,

“Naw mate. Vito Corleone,” Spike chuckled. Giles sighed,

“Yes. Of course. Why read the book when a movie is so much less high-impact,” Spike chortled.

“Damn right,” he replied before turning serious pointing at Buffy,

“Watch out for Romani bearing knives,”

“Watch out for fleshdancers bearing…hands. Okay that didn’t work,” Buffy sputtered, “just-“

“Be careful, I got it pet,” Spike flashed thumbs-up and headed out.





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