Chapter Two – Escape
For a while they were traveling in silence, so intensely glad to have dodged a bullet that they couldn’t express themselves clearly with words. They had escaped the facility’s goons, and avoided being dragged back. Buffy knew that she should be worried about where they were. She should be worried about travelling with Spike. She should be worried about whether or not her friends were abducted too. But nothing was registering. Nothing was happening, the questions where there in her head swirling away and yet they refused to demand answers. She was also furious. She was a warrior and next to her was another warrior and they had been reduced standing still as statues afraid they would be taken back to that place.
“I hate them.”
Spike looked at her. Neither of them needed any clarification as to who Buffy meant when she said "them." There was too much venom in her tone to mean anyone else. Spike decided not to make it worse, best to just change the subject.
“How long has it been since you’ve eaten, slayer?”
That thought made Buffy pause. She had no idea. Everything that had happened to them in the last two days had suddenly caught up with her. Her stomach burbled.
She shrugged.
“What does it matter, Spike?”
Spike said nothing he just dropped to the ground, grabbed a few things and handed them to her.
“Mushrooms.” He said simply. “Don’t know how they’ll taste, but they aren’t poisonous. Some blackberries as well, in the thicket over there.”
Buffy was about to scoff when she caught sight of the toadstool Spike was holding in his hand her stomach rumbled again and she remembered how hungry she was. It wasn’t even a split second of hesitation.
Spike actually cracked a wan sort of smile as she ate the mushrooms and turned her attention to the small wild berry thicket on the side.
“We need to find civilization, Spike.” She said.
“We’re heading back toward that barn we passed.” He replied. “They’re speaking English. Accents point to somewhere in the north of England. It’s not a huge country we’re bound to hit a town somewhere. ”
“Comforting.”
“You’re being sarcastic. That’s a good sign.”
Neither of them pointed out that Spike was make a huge assumption that they were in England. They could be anywhere; they could be in Canada with huge swaths of empty land contending with hired guns from England to give them a false sense of security. Better to believe they were somewhere only a few dozen miles from a bed and maybe some food. That was the last they spoke before they reached the barn that had hidden in before Buffy looked at the hay longingly but knew better than to try and hide out in there again. They walked for what seemed like hours, careful to splash through streams and brooks despite the cold in case that place had dogs. They didn’t waste time talking or thinking. Neither of them wanted to face the precarious situation they were in, but neither of them could shake the niggling feeling that they were on a shorter leash than they thought.
“How did they find us?”
Spike stopped and looked at her.
“What do you mean, slayer?” he asked. “We can’t have run very far. We’re probably in some sort of parameter.”
Buffy was about to ask him what the hell he meant by parameter when suddenly she froze.
“Spike?!”
Spike turned to her.
“Slayer?”
She couldn’t say anything she just looked down, gesturing to the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life.
“Tar.” She said. “Tar! Tar means a road!”
Spike quickly snapped to the side a grin spreading across his face. He squinted at the horizon, his preternatural senses clued him in to a slight glimmer just out of sight. His vampire instincts informed him that dawn was still a few hours away.
“Lights.” He said excitedly. “We must be closer to civilization than we thought. Bloody fuckin’ brilliant.”
Without thinking he grabbed her and they were running. Down the road which eventually lead to establishments and sidewalks. Buffy had never been happier to see establishments and sidewalks in her life. Every light seemed to be brighter than it was supposed to be. It was nice and deserted too but at this point she didn’t care. She was too busy realizing just how hungry and how desperate she was to get some sleep. Everything else faded into the background.
In the days and weeks that followed, no matter how many times she revisited that night, Buffy would never remember what had happened or how they had managed to stumble into the bed and breakfast or inn or whatever it was they had found to crash in mere minutes before dawn. All she remembered was that after days she was had food in her belly and a warm bed to sleep on.
*****
She was disjointed. What they had done to her had made her separate herself from her body. It was cold and wrong and horrific. Hell, she was sure had got to be better than this.
She lay on the cold pallet, glad they had left her in the sweats she had been patrolling in. It was a strange comfort knowing that the clothes she was wearing were her own.
She was waiting. Waiting for the only thing that kept her sane.
It always came, whenever the probing the violations got worse, he always came it was made better.
That was what she thought of when they pushed back on the steel bed and yanked open her legs.
Somewhere to the left of her head she heard the snap of latex gloves. She shut her eyes and traveled back to the last time she felt the rightness. Her one comfort in this place.
She didn’t even know how long she had been here.
This was worse than usual, the probes were always cold but this time they held a distinct ominous chill. And once they invaded her far enough they turned on the machine that had previously been an inconsequential whine in the background. It had been there from the start, she had payed no mind to it. Now it began to whirr and whistle and then Buffy felt the electric charge pulse though her body engulfing her in so much pain her concentration slipped and she screamed.
“well, that turns out nicely.” A sinister voice said. “Let’s up the dosage shall we?”
Buffy felt very muscle in her body tense in anticipation of the crippling pain when suddenly she was fine.
She was okay.
Like the devil himself was showing her the worst hell had to offer and was about to toss her to the dogs but he had overcompensated. It was like falling into cool healing water. And she could just float and not have to worry or be scared of anything.
Protected.
*****
Buffy jerked awake. She was greeted by the floral slightly cabbage-y wall paper. She was at the edge of her bed. On hand flung over the side and she was-
Buffy blinked.
She was clutching Spike’s hand in hers and tightly as she could.
The vampire was laying out sprawled on a floral duvet comforter on the floor, his head resting on a pillow he grabbed from the bed. Spike’s sharp features were softened by sleep and he looked almost boyish. Buffy gently tried to detangle her hand from the vampire’s but Spike whimpered and reached for her again. When he couldn’t find her hand he turned and mumbled something in his sleep suddenly restless. He sounded agitated, scared almost.
He had been there as well. He had been in the facility. Everything they had done to her, they had done to him. Buffy shuddered and took his hand again, almost instantly the vampire quieted.
She wondered at what pointin her dream the terror had abated, just the knowledge of an ally, calmed her immeasurably. It must be doing the same to him. She squeezed his hand and tried to go back to sleep.
There were no more nightmares.
She snapped awake suddenly. It was still dark out Spike was tossing and turning in his sleep, muttering and moaning. Being the slayer meant Buffy had always been a light sleeper, but the constant paranoia of the last few days made it even more difficult to really get any peaceful rest Spike’s fitful episodes had put all her senses into overdrive.
The unnerving thing, however, was that Buffy, now no longer tired, had begun to realize she had no real recollection of the last few hours. Everything was a blur from finding themselves near a town to her head hitting the pillow Buffy had no idea where Spike had dragged them—but she wasn’t hungry and there was an unfamiliar coat and two pairs of shoes in the corner. She vaguely remembered walking into a church rooting thought their lost and found, but couldn’t remember what they had come up with.
The other thing was the vampire, himself. Buffy tried to tell herself that because they were in this together and Spike seemed to know what he was doing, but she was worried about him. He hadn't even made a peep about sleeping arrangements. She had known Spike for years, she had even gotten used to his presence among her friends, while unwanted and usually resented, He had managed to insinuate himself. And he hadn't made a single crack about sharing the bed. He mumbled around thing just needing the comforter and curled up on the floor. It was a smaller ball than she had expected. Spike had always been wiry, but now he looked worse than she had ever seen him. He was wearing ratty cotton pyjamas that upon closer inspection now she realized were his usual uniform of black jeans and a black t-shirt, just ones that hung off his frame. Spike had always been wiry but now he looked almost skeletal, there were purple circle under his eyes and his cheekbones were so prominent Buffy thought she could probably use them as shelves. She wondered when the last time he had fed was or how long he could go without any blood.
Ignoring any misgiving she shook him awake. He sprung up in fighting stance so quickly she nearly got walloped in the face.
“Slayer, what the fuck?” He demanded.
“When was the last time you fed, Spike?”
Spike arched an eyebrow at her.
“What?”
“Blood, Spike.” Buffy repeated. “When was the last time you had any blood.”
“Why? Are you offering?”
To his complete surprise Buffy thrust her wrist under his nose. “Drink slowly or else I’ll stake you.”
Spike's first instinct was to question her. He couldn't wrap his mind around the slayer offering him her wrist with such total disregard for what it was she was offering him. But his hesitation lasted less than the time it took for him to process what she was doing. He didn't think of his dream back in Sunnydale, he didn't think about the fact that Buffy was the slayer, the chosen one. He couldn't make himself think about anything except how much he needed to drink.
His mind had gone numb of all the crazy implications, of everything he would have been thinking if he had had blood anytime in the last week. But now all he could do was shift his features and concentrate on piercing the paper thin skin on her wrist. He anticipated her flinch trying to keep her as comfortable as possible. But the moment the blood touched his tongue it too everything in him to keep himself drink delicately.
They drugged blood and he had wanted to keep his mind sharp and wait for his opening. Spike had escaped many a tight spot before, and focusing on a solution, on what he could do had guided him through it.
And when it had come he had gone looking for her. Her scent was everywhere. He had wondered idly if her scent had been used to distract him. To keep him from running. But how could they have known that Spike would never leave her behind?
A single mouthful of her blood did such wonders, he could feel his mind start to relax, start to take him out of his survival haze. He was very aware suddenly of who he was drinking from. Her eyes were shut and she had a blissed out look on her face. He needed to stop and bring them back. He pulled away and laved the wound closed.
She looked at the clear puncture holes in confusion. SHe looked dazed and needed to shake herself out of it.
“What?”
“Its just, every other time I’ve been bitten its—” she paused. “More grr argh.”
This surprised Spike, but he couldn't make himself go into the implications of that.
“Not about to go 10 rounds with a slayer. Not in my state.” Was all he said and then he made himself comfortable on the floor and went black to sleep.
When she woke again, Spike was gone.
Instantly Buffy felt her heart constrict with panic.
“Slayer?”
Spike. She could breathe again.
“Slayer, are you awake?” Spike asked as he closed the door of their room.
“Spike?” Buffy said, grateful that her voice didn’t come out as a croak from all the constricting going on round her insides. “Where did you go?”
“Had stuff to sort.” He replied cryptically. “Reckon I’ve sussed out how they found us last night.”
That woke her.
“What?”
“I was thinking about how and why they let us go. A slayer and an Aurelius vampire are not exactly a common bloody commodity.”
As he was talking he grabbed her hand and straightened it out, his fingers pressed random bits on the inside of her elbow.
“When those bloody wankers the Initiative set up Shop in Sunnyhell they got me with a tracker dart.” He paused at a particular spot on her arm. A knife appeared out of nowhere, Buffy blanched at that and began to struggle.
“Spike?”
Not taking his eyes off her arm, Spike answered. “Its imbedded under your skin now don’t move.”
Despite her reservations Buffy stilled. She felt a sharp pain and then Spike was licking her arm to close the incision. Then went to the bathroom Buffy had a moment to reflect on how strange that moment was. The strangest of which was there was an empty space where her inner Buffy was supposed to be squicky about something. The fact that it was Spike or that he was a vampire that she had just let casually cut her open should really bother her, she was the slayer after all. The flush sound from the bathroom snapped her out of it. Contemplation bad. She thought.
“We’re in Newcastle, pet,” Spike informed her. He seemed blissfully unaware of the weird turmoil about the lack of turmoil going on inside Buffy. “Not exactly a good bustling court to get lost in. I’ve got us a car to get to London Suss out a next step from there.”
Buffy just watched him as he went around the room as if looking for other bits or bobs that might be listening. He was asking her questions she realized.
“-I said, are you hungry?”
Hungry. Yes.
She nodded.
“You quite alright, Buffy?”
Buffy hadn’t realized she was holding back tears, but she was. And once she acknowledged their presence they were not going to go back into hiding. Tears dribbled out of her eyes and she wiped them away quickly.
Spike sighed. He was at a loss at what to do He figured she had been taking the whole thing too well. The whole thing was going to catch up to her at some point. Thankfully a few tears was all Buffy allowed herself. He watched her go from desolate to angry really quickly. The same kind of angry he had felt since the survival mode died down.
“Fuck this.” She muttered. “Are you sure you got everything? Do you think they tracked us here?”
“Don’t think so.” Spike answered. “Else we’d already be half way back to that bloody hell hole. I’m not sure if it was some sort of technology fuck all or divine intervention but I’m not about to wax philosophical to the Powers that be about that. I got us a car we need to get as far away as I can bloody well manage. Then we find a place to get lost of a while.”
Buffy shot him a questioning glance. She decided not to ask how Spike “got them a car” She found the only thing that worried her was that if he had flashed his game face the people who had them might be able to track them.
“In the car, slayer, we can talk in there.” He said shrugging into a brown coat that looked nothing like his usual duster. He tossed Buffy a shopping bag from a store she didn’t recognize. “Get some togs on we’re leaving in five minutes.”
Buffy slipped out of bed and stumbled to her feet. She could feel fatigue grinding into her bones. The adrenaline of the last three days must be getting to her. She did her best to ignore it and dug into the bag Spike tossed at her. She got her act together as best she could and then followed Spike outside.
The car was small and black, Spike was already in it and waiting. As soon as she slipped in the door he jerked his head towards a jeep that pulled up in the drive way, supposedly full of ‘tourists.’ Each one had the hardened look of a mercenary or soldier and was hiding discreet weapons. Before Buffy could panic Spike pulled out of the driveway, and sped off.
“Don’t comment, pet, we’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”
Buffy had had no time to even get her seat belt on. She hurriedly did up the harness and then twisted in her seat to look at what they were leaving behind. The ‘tourists’ didn’t seem fazed that the car had sped off.
“Spike…”
“We were too bloody close.” Spike said keeping his eyes on the road. “told you I could feel ‘em breathing down my neck.”
“Close?! Close would be if we read about it in a newspaper tomorrow. That was not close. I can feel the skin of my teeth ringing from that.”
“And yet here we are all fine and dandy. And that’s all that matters, innit?”
Buffy crossed her arms and righted herself on the seat.
“Yeah sure if this was a fifties movie and we still used those words.” She mumbled with a scowl.
“Terrified to quipping in oh point three seconds.” Spike replied without missing a beat. “That’s got to be some sort of record.”
“Not so terrified.” She said petulantly, under her folded arms, her stomach burbled. “And not so dandy.”
Spike smirked and shook his head, still keeping his eyes forward.
“Thought that might be a problem.” He said. He reached behind him to grab a Tesco’s bag. He tossed to her.
“Orange juice? Sandwiches?”
“Did I mention the long ride ahead of us?”
“Wasn’t going to complain.” Buffy said, ignoring the snort of disbelief. “Was just going to ask who you are and what you did with Spike.”
Spike didn’t grace her comment with a reply and just rolled his eyes. Despite the attitude, Spike was scared. He could feel the raw cold grip of it close around his stomach. That was a very close call, but he was accustomed to close calls. The Slayer, it seemed was not. She sat in the car eating her food quietly processing the events of the last few days. He wished that he had something to distract her with, that very process could damage her more than he would like to think. Bugger. They were going to have to face it sometime. He only hoped the slayer could cope. He didn’t want another broken and deranged Dru on his hands.
Next to him Buffy was desperately trying to deal with all of the things that had just happened of the last few days. They had poked her and tracked her like she was some kind of animal. They were going to get a special can of whoop ass when she came after them. There was no doubt in Buffy’s mind that she was going to come after them. She knew it like she knew that the vamp next to her was Spike and that he was going to help her. Slayer instinct had kicked in more than once over the ordeal and Slayer instinct was fucking angry.
Her tummy rumbled, no more mister nice guy.
Slayer instinct was also evidently, hungry. She felt like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. She almost instantly drained the juice and tore into the sandwiches. She glanced at Spike to see him concentrating on the road. He didn’t make a sarcastic comment, didn’t even succumb to road rage. Buffy looked down at the food and realized, Spike hadn’t eaten anything since he had taken a tiny amount from her.
“Spike, what about you?”
He turned to her and arched an eyebrow.
“What’re you eating?” she clarified.
Spike’s mouth twitched.
“Nicked some blood over in town. They had a little clinic with an emergency supply.” Spike said simply, he glared at her daring her to comment. “And before you get all slayer on me, Needed some of the human type, if we’re going to get away from the maniacs who like to play mister potato head.”
Buffy considered it for a long moment and then nodded.
“Thanks for the food, Spike.”
The vampire nodded.
“We need each other right now, slayer, trust and back up and all.”
They sped down the motor way, Buffy just realized how fast they were going.
“Isn’t there some sort of speed limit, Spike?”
The grim look on the vampire’s face vanished for a bit replaced with the sardonic smile she was a lot more used to.
Buffy sighed.
“What is it with guys and cars?” she said. “I mean, they just put you back to your childhoods- your-”
When Spike turned to her to ask what the bloody hell she meant, she was already asleep. Spike shook his head. A few hundred meters away he caught sight of a road sign announcing how long until they reach London.
He contemplated bashing into it, but remembered the low profile they needed to cultivate.
“Home sweet home.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
These first few chapters are going to come pretty quickly while I mustered the courage to post these, but I don't usually update this quickly. just a warning.