“Craig!”
Buffy whirled around, eyes frantically covering the area, trying to find her son.
“Oh, God! Craig where are you?”
Maurice stepped closer to her. “The woods can be deceiving. Are you su—”
“Yes! I left him here! He was leaning against that tree.” She pointed to the spot next to its broad trunk.
Closing her eyes, panic rose in her chest. She’d lost everyone. Cam, Spike and now Craig. For a moment, she thought she was going to pass out, but then there was a loud crack and a tumble of leaves, followed by a low grunt. Her eyes flew open and there just eight feet away was Craig, looking paler than ever and struggling to escape the clutches of the branches surrounding him.
“Hi, Mom.”
He said it so calmly, that the panic inside Buffy coalesced into laughter as she hurried over to him.
“Are you all right? You could have been killed!”
Finally struggling to his feet, Craig said, “I’m okay.” He flexed his limbs to make sure. “Just a few bruises.” He smiled lopsidedly at her and winced as she pulled him into her embrace.
“What the hell were you doing in the tree?”
“Uh…Mom, you’re going to crack my ribs.”
“Sorry.” She let him go and smiled as she reached up to take a couple of leaves from his hair.
“I heard the bike and thought it might be…” He paused when he glanced at Maurice.
“It’s all right, son. Your mother’s told me everything. I’m here to help.”
Craig raised an eyebrow at Buffy. They didn’t usually get outsiders in on family stuff. The last case in point being Jerry and look where that had gotten them all.
“The Initiative had been to Windayle looking for us. Maurice found me when I got supplies and offered to help.”
Not sure that he was entirely satisfied with his mom’s explanation, he let it go for now. “Will that thing carry us all? I don’t want to hang about here too long.”
“It will,” said Maurice. “I’ve got a cottage that’s a good bit more secluded than the house. That’s where we’re heading. It’ll take at least an hour and that’s as the crow flies. If we took the roads it would be more like two.”
Craig stumbled a little as he stepped forward, but waved off any assistance. “I’m okay. Just got a headache.”
“Have you vomited again?”
“No, Mom. Quit worrying about me, okay?”
She stood on tiptoe and to his embarrassment, kissed his cheek. “I love you, honey.”
“Yeah, love you too. Now can we go?”
When they got to the quad bike, he eyed the bag on the rack. “Don’t suppose there’s any food in there is there? I’m starving.”
“Not too much wrong with you, lad, if you’re thinking about your stomach. If you unzip the front left pocket, there’s a chocolate bar or two. That should put you on,” said Maurice, smiling at him.
“Thanks. Um…Mom, do you want one?” he asked when he pulled them out.
“No. I’m fine for now. You have them.”
The journey to the cottage was silent. The roar of the engine made conversation impossible. By the time they got to the cottage, Buffy’s arms ached from holding on and Craig looked exhausted.
A light on the outside wall of the cottage illuminated their way up the path. When Buffy and Craig got off the bike, Maurice took it to the left and stowed it safely in a small garage.
“Come on. Let’s get inside,” said Maurice, ushering them through the backdoor.
“Maurice, there you are. I was getting worried.” Dora stepped into view and stopped short when she saw he had company. “Oh!”
“They need help,” Maurice said, crossing the room and squeezing her hand.
“Why?” Dora pulled her hand free and glanced at Buffy. “I’m sorry, it’s nothing personal.” She faced her husband. “It’s not our fight.”
“We can’t just turn our backs on them, Dora.”
“Er…I think I need to si—” Craig’s eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the ground.
“Oh, dear Lord!” Dora rushed to him. “You didn’t say he was hurt!”
She eased him into the recovery position with Buffy’s help and then asked, “What happened to him? We need to get an ambulance.”
“We were run off the road in the car. He was knocked out for a while. But—”
“Maurice! Call nine, nine, nine! A head injury?” She fixed Buffy with a hard stare. “How long ago was this?”
Fighting back tears, Buffy said, “This morning.” She stroked Craig’s face and his eyes fluttered open.
Dora turned to Maurice. “For God’s sake, man! Don’t just stand there. Phone for that ambulance.”
“No,” mumbled Craig, trying to sit up. “No ambulance.”
Placing a firm hand on his shoulder, Dora said, “Now you just stay where you are.” She glanced at Buffy. “I still think that he needs to be checked out.”
“Mom, please. I don’t want…”
“Shh, honey,” Buffy soothed. There was steel in her expression when she looked at Dora. “No ambulance. Not just yet.”
Dora shook her head. “But—”
“Please, Mrs. Carmichael. I’m okay. I just felt a bit weird when the warmth hit me.” Shrugging off both women’s hands, Craig sat up. “I just can’t be stuck in hospital when I don’t know what’s happening to Cam.”
“Cam?” Dora glanced at her husband and then Buffy. “So what exactly is going on?”
“Let’s get the lad up off the floor and sit more comfortably. I think this story needs to be told over some hot soup,” said Maurice, offering Craig his hand.
Craig took it and let him help him stand up. Aware of Dora’s gaze, he smiled at her. “I really am okay. Feel a bit embarrassed at fainting.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She turned to Maurice. “Get them settled in the living room. I’ll be through with some soup as soon as it’s heated.”
“Thank you,” said Buffy, gratefully.
“Don’t thank me yet,” cautioned Dora. “I haven’t heard your story yet.”
“Dora!” said Maurice.
“It’s okay. She’s right. You need to hear the full story and if you don’t want to be a part of it, that’s fine. We’ll leave as soon as we can,” said Buffy. “We appreciate what you’ve done so far and some food would be great.”
Leaving Dora and Maurice glaring at each other, Buffy and a still wobbly, Craig went to sit by the blazing log fire.
“You really should go to hospital,” said Buffy, softly.
Keeping his eyes on the fire, Craig said, “Mom, I’ve spent too long in hospitals. I don’t want to go. I’ll be okay.” He glanced at her. “I need to be with you when you go to get Cam. It’s my fau—”
“The important thing is to get him back. I’ll decide which of you to yell at when we’re all together again.”
Craig smiled weakly at her. “Do you think he’s okay?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
Maurice and Dora entered the room, carrying trays laden with large bowls of steaming vegetable soup, crusty bread rolls and a teapot and cups.
“Here. We’ll eat and talk afterwards,” said Dora, firmly.
To Buffy’s relief, Craig’s colour visibly improved as he ate. She helped Dora to take the dishes away and when they were all settled in front of the fire, she began to tell them what had happened so far.
She told them of her life as a slayer, how Spike came to live with them, how he was taken from them, and of Cam’s hunt to find him. Dora gasped when she learned that the Initiative had kidnapped him and shipped him from the US to England.
Buffy knew that the woman would help them when she told of Jerry’s probable murder. By the time she’d finished, Craig had fallen asleep and was snoring softly.
“I apologise for my words when you arrived. I just—”
“You were protecting your family,” said Buffy. “I understand that. And I am sorry that we stumbled into your life and disrupted it like we have.”
“I think we all need to get some sleep,” said Dora. “Maurice, can you put the camp bed up in the spare room.” She looked over at Buffy. “The cottage has only two bedrooms and I think that Craig needs to be woken several times during the night, to make sure that his head injury isn’t getting worse. If you can’t rouse him, wake us and dial the emergency services.”
“Thank you, Dora. For everything.”
Dora followed Maurice out of the room to help make the bed up and Buffy shook Craig to wake him.
“Come on, sleepyhead, time to go to bed.”
Craig yawned and blinked blearily at her. “Oh, sorry. I fell asleep.”
“How are you feeling?”
His grin lightened her heart. “Like I was in a car wreck and fell out of a freaking tree. Doh!”
“How did you even get up there?” Buffy laughed softly.
“You don’t want to know. With the concussion and my arm, it wasn’t easy.”
The mention of his injured arm cut her to the quick. She’d never forgive herself for the fact that he got hurt.
Seeing the sadness in her eyes, Craig stood up, crossed the room to her and knelt at her feet.
“Mom. Everything is going to be all right.”
She had no idea how she stopped herself from crying when he said that. Her beautiful son, maimed and his dreams in tatters. His brother missing and could be dead.
“I know it will.” She kissed his forehead. “Let’s get some sleep and then we can decide on our plan in the morning.”
Together they climbed the steep narrow staircase to where the Carmichael’s had just finished preparing their beds. The four said their goodnights and retired for the night.
*~*~*~*
Cameron opened his eyes with a groan. He felt like he’d been asleep for a week. Pushing himself upright, he grinned as he realised that his condition wasn’t as bad as it had been. Staring optimistically at his legs, his smile dimmed when all he could do was very slightly wiggle his toes. The wheelchair was close to his bed and for the first time, it had some clothes on it. A pair of loose fitting pants and a button down shirt. He was sweating with effort by the time he’d managed to thread his uncooperative legs into them, but the fact that his arms were strong enough to do it had him smiling again.
Unsure what to do about the catheter on his penis, he simply disconnected the tube, pleased that there was no urine being expressed at the time, and then threaded it through the fly in his pants before reconnecting it. He’d just done up the buttons on his shirt when the nurses arrived.
“Morning,” he said brightly.
“Someone is feeling better,” said the dark haired one.
“Yeah. I slept like a log and my arms are much stronger. I can even wiggle my toes. Look.”
The nurse squinted as she tried to see the almost imperceptible movement. She resisted telling him that he ought to keep quiet about that, as she knew that the professor wouldn’t allow him to walk.
“Do you want me to show you how to get into your chair safely?”
“Please. It’ll be so much better being able to do it myself.”
She shuddered. This drug-induced perkiness was downright creepy. “Okay. You need to get the chair like this.” She pushed it into position. “Make sure you have the brake on, then put your hand on the arms and lift yourself on.”
With a grunt of effort, Cam made it smoothly. He smiled up at her. “Hey, I don’t need those straps on my chest anymore.”
The blonde spoke for the first time. “I need to check your lines, now. Just need to make sure you haven’t dislodged them.”
“Okay.” Cam stared at her boldly as she opened his flies. “Wonder if this’ll start working again? Maybe if you play with it some?”
“Enough of that talk!” snapped the nurse, rolling her eyes at her colleague.
Whatever shit they gave them in the fluids, seemed to make them all act the same – assholes! She decided that she preferred the scared to death, miserable kid he’d been yesterday. At least now that he was more mobile, they wouldn’t need to be around him so much.
“You know, I could rip it clean off and you’d never feel a thing?” she said as she unceremoniously shoved it back into his pants and zipped the fly halfway.
To her satisfaction, Cam paled a little and dropped eye contact. The line in his neck vein was fine, protected as it still was by the collar. She reactivated it after she’d checked it.
“Mark will be here for you soon.”
With that, the two nurses walked out of the room. Cam pushed himself to the door but to his dismay found that he couldn’t reach the button to open it. He amused himself by pushing himself around the small room, relishing the fact that he was mobile again. Glancing at his legs, he found that he didn’t really care if he never got any better. This was fine. He knew he’d be useful.
Mark arrived and stared at the boy. “Heard you were mouthing off at the nurses. I don’t want to hear that again.”
“It was only a bit of fun – hell, they play with my dick more than I do.” Cam grinned. “Are we going now, or what?”
“Christ, you and Gunn are a right pair...” muttered Mark. “Can you push yourself today, or do you need me to?” he said more loudly.
“I can do it.”
To prove his point Cam whizzed past Mark and headed out into the corridor, evidently remembering the way to go. Mark shook his head and followed him.
Five minutes later they were in Maggie’s office.
*~*~*~*
Spike curled up into a ball and moaned piteously. The pain in his head was coming back. He raised his head just enough to see the remains of the human he’d killed earlier. He wasn’t sure how long ago it was, all he knew was that when he had killed the pain had gone away.
Now it was back.
He couldn’t stay still. Roaring with pain and frustration, he leapt to his feet and began to attack the mirrored wall, knowing that it would do no good, but unable to keep from doing it.
After a time, with blood pouring from where he’d split his head open after repeatedly head-butting the wall, he turned his attention back to the dismembered corpse. He wasn’t really hungry, but when he’d fed the pain had gone away. Dropping to all fours, he rummaged about trying to find something to appease the pain. He’d eaten the spleen, heart and liver, so he snapped one of the leg bones in half and sucked at the marrow.
Nothing changed.
With a scream, he threw the limb to the far corner, and then resumed his attack on the walls, stopping only when the combination of agony and exhaustion put him on his knees.
The door slid open.
Spike raised his head and bared his fangs, a low feral growl rumbling in his throat.
“No! Oh, please God! No!”
Gibson’s eyes showed rings of white around his irises in his terror at the sight of the naked and bloodstained vampire, and his lips moved rapidly as he whispered a prayer.
Spike lunged for the naked human, but the guard was quicker and a well aimed stream of Holy Water from a powerful water pistol, hit Spike in the face, causing him to cry out and retreat to the back of the cell.
Another guard pushed Gibson in as the first kept him covered. This time instead of letting the man go, he was strung up by his bound wrists from a hook in the ceiling.
“Hurry up, Jordan,” said the guard holding the pistol. “Get him secured and let’s get out of here.” He turned to Spike. “Word to the wise, Seventeen. The longer he lives and hurts – the longer you’re pain free.”
“Does it even know what you’re saying?” said Jordan, making for the door.
“Who knows, but it’ll save us a few bodies if it susses it out quickly.”
Spike rose slowly to his feet, staring from the guards to the bound man and back again.
“Enjoy your dinner.” The pistol toting guard sneered. “Hey, Jordan, see how he likes this.”
Laughing he pointed the pistol at Spike, but the pain clouded the vampire’s judgement and he didn’t duck away. Not until the Holy Water hit his abdomen and dripped down his body. With a howl, he lunged for the door, but Jordan had slammed it shut as soon as the other guard stepped out and Spike hit the door hard enough to make him see stars.
Gibson continued his litany of prayer, but when Spike tilted his head and regarded him as steam still rose from where the water had sizzled, he could no longer form words.
As Spike stepped closer and smirked, tongue caressing the upper left fang, the naked man lost control of his bodily functions. Spike leapt back as urine splashed at his feet, fearing it would sting and burn like the other liquid had. Tentatively he dipped a toe in it and when nothing happened, he moved in closer. The pain in his head already easing as it was fed by the terror of his soon to be victim.
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