"We don’t know for sure he went back home.” Buffy sounded more confident than she really was.
“Where else would he go?” Spike shrugged.
She bit her lip. “You think I should go over there?”
“And do what, exactly? Just stand there and cheer Rowan on?” Spike was quiet for a moment. “Seriously, pet. Don’t want you anywhere near that bloody basement.”
Buffy sighed. “Spike, I can take care of myself. Slayer, remember?” He mumbled something she couldn’t quite make out. “What?”
He raised his head. “Said you’re also my girl. Don’t want you to get hurt.”
Her face softened. “I know. Look, I see your point. But I just feel like I should be doing something. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m still upset with Rowan. If he’d just been honest with us from the beginning, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Still, a part of me can’t help but feel bad for him.”
“I get it, luv, believe me. Feel a bit bad for the bloke myself. But...” Spike’s voice trailed off and he sat straight up with a frown.
“What’s wrong?” Buffy gave him an alarmed look, immediately pushing all thoughts about Rowan to the back of her mind.
Spike didn’t answer at first. Instead he tensed up, appearing to be lost in deep concentration. Then he blinked a couple of times before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Nothing.”
His sudden mood swing told her otherwise, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Spike?”
“Said it’s nothing.” His irritation was obvious as he slumped back against the cushion. For a brief moment, he thought he had been able to make out a blur of colors, but it was gone so fast that he decided it had to be his mind playing tricks on him. To his great frustration and disappointment, the world was still black.
Buffy watched him doubtfully, not really buying his insignificance, but reluctantly accepted that he wasn’t going to elaborate. Spike could be every bit as stubborn as her when he had his mind set on it, and she had yet to decide if that was a good thing or not. “Okay. Forget I asked.”
“Have you tried calling Rowan?” Spike asked after a moment’s silence, clearly wanting to change the subject.
She shook her head. “Angel said he would, so I didn’t see any point.” Hesitating for a moment, she then picked up the phone. Quickly dialing Rowan’s number, she waited as the signals went through. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Buffy rolled her eyes. “Here, take this. See if he’ll pick up.”
Shoving the cellphone towards Spike’s face, Buffy started to get up, only to stop dead in her tracks when he instinctively flinched back. The phone dropped to the floor and her eyes widened. Spike had become completely still. “Buffy? Did you...? What did you just do?”
“I...” The unknown visitor at the door completely forgotten, Buffy stared at Spike in astonishment. She slowly raised her hand and waved it hesitantly in front of his eyes. “Can you see me?” The knocking started again, but she ignored it.
Spike’s eyes narrowed, as if trying to focus, and he blinked again. He couldn’t recognize any details, but he was clearly aware of something moving in front of him. “Not exactly. Just...” He hesitated. “Think maybe I’m starting to.”
“Oh my God! Really?” Buffy let out a squeal and threw her arms around him. Then she pulled back, her eyes desperately searching his. “Can you see me now?” She was unable to keep the eagerness and excitement out of her voice.
Frowning, Spike reached out a hand towards her face, smiling as he immediately managed to cup her cheek without poking her eye out. “There you are, luv.” Things were still too blurry for him to be sure of what he was seeing, but the colorful splotches were definitely an improvement to the total darkness he had been surrounded by for the last couple of days.
Buffy was practically bouncing up and down. “Spike, this is amazing! I’m sure it’ll just be a matter of time before your sight is back.” A thought occurred to her and her smile widened. “Hey, I know! Take some more of my blood and we’ll see what happens.”
“Are you daft?!” Spike let out a snort of exasperation. “Forget it! I bloody bit you less than ten minutes ago. Not gonna bleed you dry as a sodding experiment, and that’s end of discussion.”
She pouted, but didn’t push the matter any further. Deep down, she realized she couldn’t let Spike keep feeding from her as frequently as he had been lately. Not that she didn’t enjoy it, most likely almost as much as he did, but it wouldn’t do to let him get too addicted to human blood.
Not to mention the fact that she was starting to enjoy the rush she felt when he was biting her a little too much. From now on, she decided, it would probably be for the best to save those moments for rare occasions. Suddenly she found herself wondering how Spike would react, should she ask him to bite her every once in a while without drawing blood. Maybe in bed...
She was snapped out of her thoughts by the sound of Angel’s voice from the other side of the door. “Buffy? Spike? I know you guys are in there. Open up!”
“Oh, bloody hell! Now what?” Spike growled.
“Okay, that’s it. We’re so leaving town when all this is over,” Buffy exclaimed, annoyed as well. She headed for the door, leaving Spike to wonder whether she was serious, or if it was just a figure of speak. He could think of nothing he would like more than him and Buffy leaving LA to start over someplace else, preferably as far away as possible.
As Buffy opened the door and reluctantly took a step back to allow Angel to enter, Spike stood up and greeted the other vampire with a mock salute. Angel ignored him and stepped further into the room. “I can’t get hold of Rowan. I have a bad feeling about this.”
Buffy threw an alarmed look in Spike’s direction. He just shrugged. She turned back to Angel with a sigh. “So, what do you suggest we’d do?”
~ ~ ~
The first thing Rowan became aware of when he started coming to was the merciless pounding in his head. Then he found that he was lying on his side on the cold stone floor, and let out a groan of pain. Struggling to sit up, he found that he was unable to move his body from the waist and down, and his eyes widened in panic.
Having no idea how long he had been out, he looked around the room wildly, trying to comprehend what was going on. He recalled crashing into the wall and immediately realized he must have hit his back really hard, silently praying it wasn’t broken, that he was merely temporarily paralyzed. Because he would rather be dead than having to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.
Wait a minute. He should be dead by now. So why wasn’t he? Why hadn’t Morou just killed him while he was unconscious? Rowan felt like his head was spinning. It just didn’t make any sense. The beast had said so himself; there would be other servants. Morou had no use for him anymore, so there was really no reason to keep him alive. Right?
“Good, you are awake,” Morou stated from the other side of the room, slowly making his way over. He stopped just a few feet away, watching Rowan with interest.
“Just fucking kill me already,” Rowan muttered in defeat. As a cruel grin spread on the demon’s face, he knew he wouldn’t get away that easily. Still, he wouldn’t allow himself to succumb to the fear threatening to well up inside him. He wouldn’t give Morou that satisfaction.
“Don’t worry. You will not leave this room alive. But Morou will not kill you yet.” Morou crouched down next to him.
Rowan felt a lump in his throat as realization was dawning on him, and he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Of course Morou was going to torture him first. After all, that was what the bastard did. He played with his victims. And by the look of things, Rowan had become the demon’s new toy. The irony of it all wasn’t lost on him.
Glancing towards the entrance, he had to roll his eyes at the sight of the bag, still blocking the door. Morou could have easily removed it, but had obviously not bothered. And why would he? It wasn’t like Rowan would be going anywhere.
Never taking his eyes away from the beast in front of him, Rowan took a deep breath. Since his legs would still not obey him, it was only with great difficulty that he managed to drag himself backwards until his back hit the wall behind him, and was able to remain in a sitting position.
Morou watched his struggling with amusement, showing no sign of attacking. Rowan suspected that the demon – unlike him – had all the time in the world, and didn’t see any reason to rush things. Now he knew exactly how the other demons had felt down here, waiting for their lives to end. He swallowed hard.
That was when he felt it. A small, cold object. Rowan didn’t dare to look at it, in fear that Morou would notice. But that was okay, he didn’t have to. Because he instantly knew what it was. Suddenly, things didn’t seem totally hopeless anymore. Not that he was going to make it out of here alive. That was out of the question. But now, there was a small chance he would be able to take Morou down with him.
TBC
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I seem to be losing readers again, which makes me a little sad. Hope at least some of you are still with me, since we are getting close to the end. Thanks to PhotographyNut, guest, cordykitten and IamGhost for reviewing the last chapter, and to Mabel Marsters for betaing.