Chapter 1 – Not Talking at All


Spike pushed the wheels of the wheelchair, rolling himself out of his room and away from the moaning from the next room from his grand-sire and his princess. He cringed at the sound as his eyes began to sting. He shut them tightly, shaking his head as he took in a deep unneeded breath before continuing to another room which he had claimed only a couple hours before. His minions were moving his possessions into the room. He sighed as he rolled into the room. Angelus had originally planned to put the slayer in the room once he had acquired her but Spike thought the room would be much useful to him then the slayer. Plus, the bitch could then listen to her lover go at it night after night instead of him.

He had decided that the slayer was the cause for all his problems. For putting him in the wheelchair and bringing his grand-sire back insane. Spike loved his grand-sire really – at times. Angelus had been the father he had never had when he was a boy, teaching him the ropes and ways of the vampire. Angelus had been his friend and then he went and played with a gypsy and had a cursed placed upon him. Spike had wanted to help his grand-sire, had tried to help him by bringing him pigs for food when Darla had left him to starve. And then Angel left one night and Spike hadn’t seen him until he returned to Sunnydale only a few weeks earlier.

Spike sighed, yelling at the minions to leave. He was sure he could hear them snickering as they left which caused specks of gold to flash into his eyes. He closed his eyes for the hundredth time that day to get control of himself before her grabbed the bedpost to hoist himself up and out of the wheelchair. He held onto the post, willing his legs not to give out as he tried to walk to the other side of the bed for therapy. He held the post, leaning against it for support. Three more steps and he would be done and he could rest. He took another unneeded breath and began to take another step only to have his legs give out from underneath him. He crumpled to the ground as tears began to leak out of his eyes. He brushed them away angrily, growling as he popped another blister on his face from being burned. At least that was healing quickly unlike his legs. He sighed, grabbing the bed post and pulling himself onto the bed. He sighed again, breathing heavily as he laid on the bed. The sun would be setting in an hour and he knew that within the next ten hours, the slayer would be chained away in his old room to be tortured. Bitch deserves it, he thought to himself but he looked towards his door with a wary glance and a heavy heart of what was to come.

---

Buffy sat silently on a tombstone as she played with her stake. She thought back to the week previously when she had been possessed by the ghost of a fifty’s high school boy who had killed his teacher who he was having an affair with. She thought back to Angel – no Angelus – who had been possessed by the teacher who in turn forgave him for killing her. She didn’t understand why the teacher forgave the guy but it didn’t matter anymore because they were gone, onto another plane of existence but that’s not what was stuck in her head. No, it was the feel of Angel- Angelus’s lips upon her own. The feel of his arms wrapped around her again. Her head was stuck on the face that she felt at home in that instant when the two spirits had left their bodies and all that was left was his lips upon hers in a light caress. And just as fast as the feeling of being home, safe, came, it was gone. And she was left to cry out her frustrations as Angelus fled. She hadn’t seen him since.

While it brought some rest in her hectic life, she knew it would only be a matter of time before he would reenter her life and bring chaos with it. She didn’t know if she could handle it, didn’t know if she would be able to deal with having to kill him. She knew she wasn’t ready and she doubt she would ever be but what could she do? She knew what she had to do. She had to push everything of Buffy behind and become the slayer. That was all she could do.

A soft humming filled her ears and she sat up. A familiar tingle traveled up her spine, telling her that a vampire was close – too close for her comfort. She slowly got up from the tombstone, gripping her stake tightly as she turned to find Drusilla holding a glass doll in her hands, stroking the dolls dark hair. “Ms. Edith tells me you’ve been a bad little girl. Ms. Edith tells me that you put a little spell on daddy to make him love you again.” Drusilla laughed as Buffy began to slowly back away from her. “You know, daddy is quiet cross with you. You. Should. Watch. Your. Back.” With each last word, Drusilla took one step closer to Buffy causing the slayer to back up into a hard chest. She turned around to find Angelus, grinning down at her in his vampire visage.

“Hey baby, miss me?” he growled before knocking her out with a punch to her face. He then picked her up and looked down at her, his other hand tracing her lips. “And to think I let myself fall in love with you,” he whispered before looking up at Drusilla. “Come on; let’s get back on the mansion so we can have fun.” Drusilla smiled, nodding as they both walked back towards the mansion with an unconscious slayer in their possession.

---

Spike’s eyes snapped open when he felt her presence. They did it. They captured the slayer. He could hear Drusilla cooing to Angelus, could hear the beating of the slayers heart. He sighed, closing his eyes only to have to open them when Angelus kicked the door open. “Oh, sorry, didn’t know you had taken up residency in this room,” Angelus stated sarcastic with an evil grin. Spike growled, pulling the wheelchair over.

“Yea, well I have so please leave and take your lover with you,” he growled out. Angelus laughed before walking into the room.

“I actually have a better plan.” He turned to Drusilla with a smile. “Go get the chains; our lovely slayer is going to spend some time with our crippled vampire.”

“You are joking, right? Good one Angelus, take your bloody prize and please leave me in peace.” Drusilla returned with chains, giggling as she began to set them up. Soon, chains were hanging off the wall, onto the bed next to Spike who watched in horror as they chained the slayer up next to him. “You’re fucking kidding me,” he mumbled as Drusilla placed a small chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Have fun with her my dark knight. Enjoy your gift. Slayers blood will make up strong again, drink up,” she laughed before running out of the room. Angelus smiled closing the door behind him.

“Have fun!” he called through the door as Spike heard the click of the lock. He was locked inside his room with the slayer chained up next to him. He growled angrily, grabbing the nearest thing and throwing it at the door. The noise caused the slayer next to him to stir.

“Don’t wake up now, you stupid bint,” he growled as he pulled himself into his wheelchair. Soon enough, the slayer let out a small moan as her brows creased together in pain. “Please, let this all be a horrible nightmare,” he breathed as the slayers eyes began to open and take in the surroundings.

---

Buffy opened her eyes to look up at a stone ceiling. She felt cold metal surrounding her wrist and the feeling that she wasn’t alone seemed to swallow her whole. She looked over to find the bleached blond vampire sitting in his wheelchair, half of his face burnt, looking at her as if she was Satan himself. She sat herself up on the bed and looked at him.

Spike had to look away from the intense gaze she was giving him. She could only see the smooth side of his face, his burn and scars hidden from view in the shadows. Pain etched across his features as he grabbed hold of the bed post from the second time that day. He hoisted himself up, his back to her as he stood. He needed to get out of the blasted chair. He needed to heal faster. He couldn’t bear her staring at him as he sat in that blasted chair. “Stop starring, you silly bint,” he growled. Buffy quickly looked away as Spike relaxed his shoulders somewhat. He slowly limped over to the door to retrieve the book he had thrown. He was going to need something to do pretty soon and he was sure it wouldn’t involve that blasted wheelchair. He caught himself on the doorknob as his legs began to give, using his other hand to balance himself on the dresser which was placed next to the door. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he held himself up on the dresser.

“Does it hurt?” Buffy asked her voice so soft no human would have heard it. Spike stood up straight, before glaring at her, gold flecks flashing in his cold blue eyes.

“No,” he growled. “It doesn’t.” She glared back at him.

“If I had a stake-“

“Well you don’t. Right now, you are chained up with no weapon, helpless; in a room with a master vampire who would be happy to drain you dry.” She scoffed, turning away.

“More like a crippled vampire who can’t even walk.” He turned towards her, anger and rage fueling him as he took sloppy quick steps towards her, reaching the bed just in time before his legs gave out for the second time that day. “Besides, you won’t touch me. I could still hurt you, even if I’m chained to a wall and weaponless. And you know it.” Spike lashed out, back handing her across the face. She pressed her hand to her cheek, feeling it burn against her cool hand.

“You should learn quickly not to retaliate or annoy a vampire when you are at their mercy. Remember, Angelus won’t be nearly as merciful as I am and if you want to live longer, I suggest not talking at all.”


TBC

What They Want


They seemed to get louder as each minute passed by which caused Spike to cringe at each yell Drusilla made while Buffy flinched at each yell Angelus made. He could hear her sobbing quietly next to him but he made no move to comfort her. He leaned against the headboard with his book, Ulysses, in hand, trying as hard as he could to block out the sounds being emitted from outside the door. The smell of fresh blood caused his fangs to elongate, causing him to bite his lip. He licked away the blood, cringing at the cold taste of it. He looked over at Buffy to find that she had fallen to sleep and the pillow soaked with her tears.

He sighed, closing his eyes as he placed his book on the nightstand next to the bed. The blood was getting to him, causing his thirst to grow. He looked over at Buffy, shaking his head as he pushed the thought of drinking from her away from out of his mind. He would just be giving into what they wanted and he didn’t want to give Angelus that pleasure. Hell no. Unless the bint offered it to him, which he highly doubted would ever happen, he wasn’t going to take one drop from her.

The sun would be rising in a few minutes and Buffy’s mother would wake to not finding her in bed in the morning. He looked over at the slayer again and with a sigh, looked away. He pulled off his boots, socks, and shirt, placing them on the floor next to the bed. He then turned off the lamp in the room. It was finally quiet meaning that Angelus and Drusilla had worn themselves out. He slipped between the covers, like Buffy had done earlier, and closed his eyes, hoping for one night of a dream instead of a nightmare.

---

Buffy awoke mid-afternoon to her stomach growling and an arm draped across her waist. She could feel hot breath fanning across her neck, which confused her greatly as vampires didn’t have to breathe. She could feel him nuzzling her shoulder as his arm tightened around her. She pulled at her chains, hoping to pull them out but found she could not. She sighed, closing her eyes as she inhaled. It was bad enough she was chained to a wall, but to have a vampire, one that wasn’t even souled, clinging onto her just seemed to make things worse. She hadn’t said a word since he slapped her earlier that night.

A clatter outside sounded, causing the vampire behind her to tense for a moment. Another clatter sounded, louder than the last and she could tell Spike was awake by the way he was growling against her neck. She laid still, her eyes closed, as the vampire pulled away. “I know you’re awake Buffy. Your stomach woke me up long before that clatter did,” he growled, obviously annoyed although he seemed more annoyed at the noise outside than at her for which she was grateful. She looked over to find him pulling his shirt on, covering the scars that littered his back from her prying eyes. He pulled the wheelchair over and pulled himself into it. He then wheeled himself over to the door and banged out of it. “Who’s out there!” he growled.

“It’s me, Mouth,” a voice called. Buffy looked at him in confusion.

“Fledging,” he replied to her look. “Mouth, get fruit and water and some blood too.”

“Yes, Mr. Spike,” the voice called again as his retreating footsteps sounded. Spike wheeled back over to the bed.

“Mouth’s kind of my servant, helps me move around the house. Only one smart enough to listen to me too. Once I’m out of this bloody chair, I’m gonna kill half of the minions here before Angelus can stop me. Kill the bastard too.”

“I thought you liked Angelus, him being your grand-sire and all,” she stated as she played with the shackles around her wrist.

“I did. He was my mentor. More of a sire than a grand-sire in reality. He was like the father I never had. But of course, you had to go and give him back to us more fucked up than before. Also, I wouldn’t be in this bloody chair if it weren’t for you!” he groaned as he pulled himself back onto the bed. “I could be out of this chair. I could be walking around.” He stopped sighing. What was the use in talking about it? It was done, she had crippled him, and there was nothing he could do about it. “Doesn’t matter. Mouth is getting us food. I have some books if you’re bored to keep you entertained,” he stated, rolling the wheelchair over to his trunk.

“Do you think I could get these off?” Buffy asked, holding out her wrists that were bound with shackles. He sighed, rolling over to her side of the bed before grabbing hold of the chains.

“I think I could get this off if both of us pulled on it. My legs might suck but I’ve still got strength in my arms. Promise me one thing though.”

“What?” she asked with a roll of her eyes. All she wanted was to get out of the chains and away from the vampire in front of her.

“Help me walk again,” he stated simply. She seemed to think about for a good minute before nodding her head. A smirk graced his lips as he gripped the chains while Buffy did the same. “Alright then, one, two, three, pull!” Both pulled, using their upper body weight as they did. Sure enough, the chains gave way and snapped out of the wall, flinging Buffy back on the bed while Spike stayed happily seated in his chair, unmoved by the jolt. He smiled, watching as she got up from the bed and grabbed a knife that had been sitting atop the dresser, picking her shackles. Soon, the shackles and chains fell to the ground with a clatter and the slayer was holding her wrists in her hands, rubbing the sore red flesh.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile, picking up the chains and placing them on the trunk. “Now, let’s get you walking so I can get out of here and go home.”

---

Spike yelled for the tenth time as he fell into the slayers arms, his legs giving out underneath him yet again. He was angry; frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get across the room without collapsing into the slayers arm like some weakling. “Talk about dead weight,” Buffy mumbled as she pulled Spike onto his feet, only to have him slip out of her arms and crumple to the floor. He growled as Buffy sat down next to him, her back leaning up against the bed.

“Shut up,” he growled as he grabbed the sheets of the bed, moving to pull himself up and try again. Buffy looked up at him, shaking her head.

“You should stop. You keep going at it, you’re going to strain yourself and become weaker than before. You need rest.” Buffy wiped the sweat off her forehead, grimacing at it before rubbing her hand on her jeans. “And I need a shower and new clothes. I feel all sticky,” she stated, sticking her tongue out.

“I’m not weak. A master vampire is never weak,” Spike growled, settling himself on the bed. He flopped backwards, wrinkling his nose at the smell of her sweat. “And you do need a shower. There’s a bathroom through that door right there. The water’s cold but you’ll be clean. As for new clothes, I don’t know what you can do.” Buffy stood, nodding as she walked over to the dresser, opening one of the drawers and rifling through Spike’s clothes. “Oi! What do you think you’re doing?” Spike growled as he sat up, leaning back on his elbows.

“Are black jeans and t-shirts all you have?” Buffy asked, her brows creasing into a frown.

“No. In the trunk over there are some old shirts from the 1800s. You could wear one of those I suppose,” he stated, glaring. Buffy closed the drawer, walking over to the trunk and popping it open. She looked at the objects in the trunk, old keepsakes from days long past. She lightly ran her fingertips over a leather bound book, pulling it out and opening it to a random page.

Spike eyes her back, watching as she rifled through the old trunk. When he heard the crack of a book opening, he sat up fully. “What do you think you’re doing, Slayer?” he growled angrily as she quickly dropped the book on the floor and faced him. His eyes widened in shock as he found that she had been looking at his old book of poems. Flecks of gold sparkled in his eyes as he held his hand out. “Give me that.” She nodded, handing the book to him, which he snatched from her quickly. “Get the shirt and take the shower.” She nodded, quickly pulling the shirt out of the trunk, slamming the top shut, and rushing to the bathroom to escape his heavy gaze.

When she closed the door behind her, Spike let out a loud sigh, flopping back on the bed, the book clutched tightly in his fingers. He heard the shower start and her small yelp of surprise at how cold it was.

He scooted up the bed until his back was resting against the headboard as he then flipped open the book. His eyes scanned the neat scrawl, his eyes narrowing into slits and his frown deepening with every word that he read. Memories of harsh words and cruel laughter flooded his mind, reminding him of the world he had left behind. He slammed the book shut, closing his eyes as he took deep unneeded breaths. He didn’t want to remember. He never wanted to remember. He then pulled open the drawer of the side table and placed the book in, closing it before lying back in bed and closing his eyes.

---

Buffy ran her fingers through her wet head, trying to rid it of some of the tangles, as she looked at herself in the dirt-plastered mirror in front of her. The shirt that she wore hung down to her knees, the sleeves longer as it seemed to swallow her whole. She wished she had some pants and new underwear but realized that in the situation she was in, she was lucky that Spike gave her the shirt in the first place.

She sighed, closing her eyes before she reentered the room where she found Spike laying on the bed with his eyes closed and the book hidden from sight. She softly padded her way across the room, coming to sit on the opposite side of the bed.

Spike opened his eyes to find her sitting with her back to him. The shirt clung to her wet body as her hair fell down in messy clumps. She smelt like him, which made sense since she most likely used his soap and shampoo. “Feel all clean now, princess?” he drawled as he returned his gaze to the ceiling above him.

He felt her shift on the bed, now looking at him as she nodded silently. “Who’s W.C?” she asked. Spike sighed, closing his eyes before opening them again and looking at her.

“No one. He’s dead.” Buffy nodded, looking away before looking back at Spike, staring at him. Spike sighed, knowing she wouldn’t stop staring until she got a straight answer. “William Crawford. That was his name. Now, no more questions and get some sleep. You’re going to need it later on tonight when Dru and the poofster start going at it again.” Buffy nodded, slipping under the covers, turning away from him.

“Goodnight, Spike,” she whispered, closing her eyes. Spike looked at her surprised, listening as her breathing slowed and her heart fell into a steady rhythm. A smile graced his lips as he did the same and curled up behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist. She turned in her sleep, her head resting against his chest.

“Goodnight, Buffy,” he whispered before falling asleep with her.


TBC

Chapter 3 – Masquerade


Soft, gentle touches, innocent. She felt the cold rough skin of his hands brush her hair back, hair, which was now dry and tangled. She was content to pretend to be asleep, to let the vampire in front of her groom her and be gentle. She knew it was a side of him she would never witness if she was awake. She knew he was dangerous but also knew he was different from any other vampire she had ever encountered before. Not that she would admit to it aloud. But right now, as tired and heavy as she felt, she didn’t care.

Spike sat in bed, his back leaning against the headboard while Buffy’s head rested against his chest. His fingers swept through her hair, freeing it of its tangles slowly and gently. He could hear her breathing return to its normal rhythm and her heart speed up a little. She was awake but seemed content to let him pet her as she laid happily snuggled next to him.

Wrong. That’s was it was. What they were doing was wrong and should have made him want to puke out whatever guts he still had left. His demon screamed at him to kill her then, when she seemed to trust him so much. There she was, so easy to devour and conquer whole. He was sure he could even turn her if he wanted.

But a small voice in the back of his mind wouldn’t let him. That small voice which hadn’t spoke at all until now. That small voice which kept his demon in check and him happy to leave her be. But it was still wrong. A vampire was not supposed to be grooming a slayer. A vampire was supposed to drain her dry and bathe in her blood. Yet for some unknown reason, this vampire did not.

His head perked up at the sound of footsteps making their way towards their room. “Time to get up, Slayer. It seems we have company.” Buffy’s eyes opened as she sat up and looked at him, confused. He had known she was awake this whole time?”

Before she could ask, the clicking sound of the door being unlocked sounded through the room. Spike swung his legs off the bed and hopped into the wheelchair as the door opened and their stood Angelus. Buffy pulled the covers to her chest, holding her knees up to her while Spike growled and rolled towards him. “I see you haven’t drained her dry yet. I wonder why. You could be stronger by now and yet the slayer lives. Have you at least taken a taste? And by that, I don’t just mean blood,” he drawled, a wicked grin forming on his lips.

“Fuck you Angelus,” Spike growled. He would’ve given anything right then and there to be able to stand and kick the gel boy’s sorry little ass.

“Not now, Spike. Maybe later. I’m a little worn out. That Drusilla can go all night, but you know that, don’t you?” Angelus taunted, as Spike clutched at the handles. “You know that thing that she does, where she kind of hooks her legs behind her head so you can pound further into her? Or when she,” Angelus began but Spike threw himself at the stronger vampire, lucky to land a punch in the vamp’s face. But Angelus easily flung Spike back, sending the younger vampire across the room.

Buffy scrambled across the bed, rushing to Spike where she cradled the broken vampire in her arms. Spike growled, glaring at the old vampire as he tried to push himself up off the ground. “No, Spike. You can’t. You’re too weak. He’ll kill you,” Buffy stated, holding him back.
“Listen to the girl, Spike. She’s smart. I will kill you.” Buffy glared at Angelus, standing up to meet his gaze.

“And I will kill you.” A malicious grin spread across Spike’s face at the thought of Angelus dying but Angelus laughed it off. Buffy glared at him angrily, her fists clenching and unclenching.

“You can’t kill me, Buffy. Because I know you. You love me and if there’s a chance that you could get me souled again, you’ll take it. You’ll never be able to kill me, Buffy.” Buffy looked away from him, her eyes closed. “I knew it. Anyways, I’m not here to verbally assault you. I’m here for something else.” He walked over to the opposite side of the bed, finding the chains on the ground and the whole in the wall. “I see you got out of the chains.”

Spike pulled himself into his chair with Buffy’s help. Both watched Angelus wearily as he looked over the room before his gaze settled on Buffy again. “I also see you have new clothes. Very flattering. I’ve seen that shirt before.” His gaze turned to Spike and he grinned. “You have a thing for girls wearing your clothes, Spikey?”

“Get what you want and go,” Spike growled, flecks of gold glittering in his eyes which had narrowed into sharp slits. Angelus laughed, nodding as he walked over and grabbed Buffy’s wrists.

“Right then, you’ll have her back later on. Dru wants to play dolly with her and I want to play a little myself.” Buffy’s knee shot up, hitting him in the groin. He dropped her wrist, his hands instantly coming to cover his crotch, leaving his body defenseless. Her hand balled into a fist which connected with Angelus’s face, flinging him back into the door. She walked over to him, pulling him up as she situated herself on top of him, beginning to pound into his face in earnest.

“You are not him! You are nothing. You could never be Angel. Don’t you ever compare yourself to him. You are nothing! Nothing! I hate you! You killed him! You bastard!” Spike rolled over to her, grabbing her and pulling her off his grand-sire.

“Calm down slayer! You have to stop now!” he growled as he wrapped his arms around her to confine her arms. She struggled against him before she finally gave up hope and stopped.

Angelus sat up, chuckling insanely as he licked away the blood which ran from a cut on his lip. His face was nothing but a bloody pulp from the beating he had taken from her. But he loved it. He loved the fact that he could turn her into a crazed monster, much like himself. “Use that rage and hate Buffy. You’ll be on the fast track to becoming like me,” Angelus laughed as he stood up. “Aw, did I break her?” he taunted as he watched Buffy shake in his grandchilde’s arms.

“You had your fun Angelus, save what you had planned for another day,” Spike stated, tired and sore. Angelus laughed as he turned to leave.

“Oh sweet William. You’re falling in love again,” he sang, before closing the door behind him and locking it, not seeing the death glare that Spike had sent him.

---

The day passed with nothing but silence between the two as they laid in bed, Spike writing and Buffy reading a book which she had found in the trunk earlier on. They were content with the other’s presence and did not talk about what had happened earlier with Angelus, both ready to forget it happily.

Buffy flipped the page of the book, nearing the end of the sad love story. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she pictured what was happening in the book in her mind’s eye. Spike noticed the sniffles coming from her and looked over, noting she was reading Gaston Leroux’s Phantom of the Opera. He smiled, rolling his eyes as he returned to his random writing. A few minutes later, Buffy had closed the book gently, wiping her eyes.

“How was the book?” Spike asked casually as Buffy looked over at him.

“It was so sad! How could she leave Erik for that prat Raoul? It’s wrong. She should have gotten together with Erik,” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It wouldn’t have worked. Erik was a monster, a murderer, deformed, and different. Christine would have lived in darkness for the rest of her life because he could not go out into the light. She would have spent the rest of her life living in the sewers of Paris under a burnt out Opera House. And what if they had kids? Their children would have suffered the same affliction as their disfigured father. They would never have had a normal life.” He smiled as he looked over at her. “Besides, even though Erik loved her greatly, he did the right thing in letting her go. He let her have the life he could never give her. Also, if it didn’t end the way it did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now would we?” Buffy sighed, nodding as she looked down at the book, tracing the lettering with gentle fingers. “Or does this book hit too close to home? You being Christine and a vampire we all know and hate being Erik.” Buffy shook her head, looking him straight in the eye.

“Angel is not at all like Erik. Erik is passionate, gentle yet harsh, vulnerable yet strong. He’s a contrast of everything. A mask to hide what he is inside, just like his face only it’s the opposite. With the mask, he was showing beauty to hide a monster. But with his acting, he was showing a beast to hide a gentle man. No, he reminds me of another vampire I know,” she whispered the last statement, quickly turning her head away from his heated gaze.

“And who is the other vampire that you know?” Spike asked, knowing full well that she was describing him, hitting so close to home that it hurt.

“You,” she whispered, so soft that no human would have heard her. Good thing Spike wasn’t human. Spike nodded.

“How am I like him?”

“You can be so cruel and harsh at one moment, making me want to rip your head off and then at other times, you can be so gentle, it’s like you’re a completely different person.” She stared at him intently, watching his expression carefully which remained blank while his eyes held a flicker of something else. “And you wear a mask everyday. You hide behind a human face but you’re a demon underneath it.”

“And you, Slayer, hide behind fake smiles and make up when in reality, you would give anything to just have one moment where you can cry to your heart’s content. You tell pretty little lies to your mum and friends so they don’t worry about you when you’re really dying inside. And while you are trying to keep them warm and cozy, you hate them because they can’t see that each second, a little more of you dies. You hate them because they don’t carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. You hate them because they don’t really have to worry about whether or not they’ll be alive the next day. You hate them because they can sleep at night while you toss and turn because of the nightmares you have. They have their whole life right before them and you; you only have a few more years if you’re lucky.” Buffy sat quietly, wishing he would stop. It seemed as if he was reading into her soul, as if he could open her up and see everything that she thought about. “And what’s worse is you hate yourself for hating them. You berate yourself for wishing that they were the ones fighting every night instead of you. You kill a part of yourself everyday and you pray that you’ll find peace. You have a death wish.”

“Is that a bad thing?” she asked.

“Everyone has a death wish, it’s just sad to see it so soon in you,” he stated. She nodded, placing the book on the bedside table before blowing out the candle. She then climbed under the covers and looked at Spike. He nodded, a smile gracing his lips as he did the same with his book and pen, blowing out his own candle before stripping himself of his shirt, shoes, and socks. He climbed under the covers and pulled her into his arms. “Tonight, just sleep and dream of something better than this life.”


TBC

Chapter 4 – Man Behind a Monster


“I think I can do it without your help now,” Spike stated as he stood up, his legs feeling stronger than he could remember. He looked up at her and smiled. Buffy nodded, as she looked at him, noting that his face had healed nicely, leaving his skin perfect and pale.

“I’ll just stay near you, just in case, okay?” Spike chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. Go stand over by the door and wait for me. Maybe I’ll try to run,” he grinned, raising his eyebrows in excitement. They had been working on his legs for over a week, successfully keeping it secret from Angelus and Drusilla who liked to drop in unexpectedly to see if he had given into temptation and sucked her dry. He admitted there were times when she slept that he did think of sinking his teeth into her succulent neck but he never did.

He stood by the bathroom door, taking a deep breath as he began to walk over to her. A smile grew on her lips as she noted he was getting his old strut back, looking very much like the master vampire she had known before the whole church incident. She only hoped that he wouldn’t kill anyone anymore. She liked to think that she had made a new friend in Spike but she was still afraid to fully trust him, knowing at any moment he would go back to wanting to kill her. It would just be Angel all over again only at least if it did happen, she wouldn’t fall as hard as before.

Spike smiled when he finally reached her pulling her into a hug. “Thanks, Slayer. I owe you big for this.” He pulled away, shoving his hands in his pockets as she stared at him, something in her eyes that he couldn’t seem to read. “I should go take a shower, I reek.” Buffy giggled, nodding as she smiled at him. He had been begging for a shower but knew he couldn’t do it himself and Buffy refused the offer to bathe him. He smiled, walking over to the bathroom, after grabbing a towel from his trunk. He turned back as he reached the door and looked at her. “Care to join me, Slayer?” he asked, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively at her.

“No. A world of no! I’ll just read a book while you take your shower, alone.” Spike walked back over to her, a smile on his face as she sat down on the bed. He crawled towards her, a wicked smile splayed across his lips.

“Come on, Slayer, you know you want to,” he whispered huskily in her ear, his lips lightly grazing her jaw as his hands traveled her body. Her breathing quickened as she closed her eyes. “Give in to me; let me have you, let me pleasure you.” His lips trailed a line of kisses down her jaw to her neck where he found her pulse point and sucked on it lightly, not wanting to frighten her and make her think that he would bite her. Her hand wound in his hair, massaging his scalp while small pants escaped her mouth, warming his cheek.

Buffy closed her eyes, mewing at his ministrations as he sucked at her neck. “Give into the darkness, be with me.” Her eyes snapped open and she pushed him away, jumping off the bed, leaving him confused and somewhat hurt. He began to get up from the bed to see what had happened but she put her arm out pointing at him.

“Don’t come near me, just stay there on the bed.” He didn’t listen, getting up and walking over to her, reaching out to touch her. “Spike, don’t. I can’t do this. Not again.”

“What do you mean again?” he asked, touching her arm gently as she looked up at him with watery eyes. “Angel.” He stated, his lips setting in a thin line. “I’m not him. I’m nothing like him. I won’t go evil on you or do anything he’s done to you.”

“How do you know that?” Buffy cried out, glaring up at him.

“Because I’m already evil. You already know what I do. It won’t be a surprise to you. I can promise you that I won’t hurt your friends, or your family, or you. But you can’t change what I am Buffy. Nothing can change what I am. I need blood to survive and I’m not about to jump on the animal blood bandwagon.” Buffy pulled away from him.

“I can’t be with someone that kills let alone a vampire! What was I thinking? I’m sworn to kill you! I can’t do this.” Spike pulled her back in his arms roughly, holding her to him as she struggled against him.

“You were thinking that you saw something other than a monster. You were right in that Erik was like me. Like him, I am a monster because that is what this world has condemned me to. Like Erik, I can only live in the dark. But also like Erik, I am a man. With time, you’ll learn to see me as a man.” He turned her around, forcing him to look up at him as he shifted to his demon form. “This is what I am Buffy. Can you handle this? You could handle it before with Angel. How am I so different? Why can’t you see a man in me like you saw with him? Is it because I lack a soul? A vampire doesn’t need a soul to love completely or to be good. We can do it all on our own. Angelus doesn’t believe that vampires can love or be good. But he’s wrong and you know it.” He sighed, closing his eyes as his face shifted back to its original form, his grip on her loosening. “There’s one huge difference between Erik and I. I am not so willing to let what I love and what I want go. But, also unlike him, I’m going to give you a choice. Will you be like Christine and leave me for the safety and comfort of a world that a human can give you or will you do as you said, and be with me, in the dark and see a man behind a monster?”

TBC

Chapter 5 – Angelus’s Torture Chamber


Before Buffy could answer, the door was unlocked and thrown open, showing a very angry Angelus. A small evil grin graced his lips as he looked at Buffy, who was in Spike’s arms and Spike who was standing – not in a wheelchair. “So, this is what you’ve been doing in your spare time, huh? She’s been helping you walk again. That’s why you won’t drain her. You have too much pride, gotta do it all by yourself, right Spikey?” Spike growled, shielding Buffy from Angelus’s menacing stare.

“Fuck off Angelus.” Angelus laughed, catching the glint in Spike’s eyes as they both stood, staring each other in the eye, two master vampires very much ready for a fight with the other.

“It’s my turn to play, Spike. You know the concept of sharing, yes?”

“She’s not a bloody toy!” Spike yelled angrily, his body tense, his fists clenching and unclenching, begging to throw a punch at the older vampire.

“Really? A human not a toy? Spike, I believe you were the first to call them a toy back when we scoured Europe,” Angelus taunted, a malicious grin still firmly in place.

“That was back when you were sane and not as nuts as Drusilla,” Spike spat. Angelus growled angrily, taking a menacing step towards them. “Hit a soft spot, didn’t I? Well you are! Remember when you first got your soul? Right now, you’re more insane than you were then!” Angelus took a few more steps, his fist rounding to punch Spike but he easily blocked it. Spike grasped the bigger hand, crushing it with his own, twisting Angelus’s arm. He smiled when he heard the satisfying crack. He had broken Angelus’s arm; the same Angelus who was now standing there, staring at his arm and then back at Spike. Fresh new rage was burning inside him as he moved to attack Spike. “This is your chance Buffy! Get out of here!” Spike yelled as he began to battle with grand-sire.

Buffy stared at him for a moment not understanding, but when Spike looked at her a second time, she nodded, rushing out of the room while the vampires fought. “Don’t run too far, Slayer!” Angelus’s voice called but Buffy didn’t listen as she dodged the vampire flunkies coming at her. She jammed the palm of her hand up one vampire’s nose, tripping another in her way and jumping over a third. A fourth charged at her stomach, which she quickly sidestepped, grabbing the vamp’s hair in the process and yanking him backwards to the floor.

She could still hear Spike and Angelus fighting, shouting puns at each other. Most of the other fledging vampires had run away, all afraid of the Slayer’s wrath. She saw one in front of her she recognized–Mouth. The vampire looked at her with wide eyes as she grabbed him, pulling him along with her. “Get me out of here or I’ll kill you.” Mouth nodded, grabbing her hand and pulling her down another hallway.

“The puppy with light hair has escaped!” she heard Drusilla shriek as she passed the crazed vampire. Mouth looked back at Drusilla, smiling when he found she wasn’t following them. He then pulled her down another hallway where light cascaded into the room.

“This is as far as I dare go being sun retarded and all. There’s a door at the far end. It leads into one of the cemeteries. You have four hours till sundown. Make sure the rest of the scoobies are with you. You can be sure Angelus will come after you,” Mouth stated, smiling at the Slayer. Buffy nodded, offering a quick thanks before sprinting the rest of the way out and into the safety of the sun without so much as a backward glance.

*

Mouth walked back toward Spike’s room, only to find Angelus dragging the younger vampire out of his room. Angelus grinned, blood streaking down his face as he threw Spike at Mouth, who dutifully picked up his friend. “Next time, think before you act out, Spike or I’ll do worse than break your legs. But you still have punishment to serve.”

“Why?” Spike growled.

“You cost me a slayer, Spike! That’s why!” Angelus growled. “Mouth, take him to the chamber. I’ll deal with him later, after I’ve healed. Not one drop of blood for him, or you’ll be joining him, got it?” Angelus growled, glaring at Mouth who only nodded. Angelus turned to leave but soon heard Spike chuckling.

“You’re gonna have one pissed off slayer and her friends on your hands and I’m gonna love watching her kick your insane ass back to hell.” Angelus turned back and stared at Spike with a smile.

“I’ve been to hell Spike. It’s not so bad.”

*

Mouth tried not to damage Spike any further when he dropped him into the chamber beneath the main room of the mansion. When he heard a dull thud, he stuck his head down into the dark whole, his face shifting into his demon visage to see better. “Are you ok, Spike?” A groan answered him, unhappy and tired. “I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t worry. I’ll get the Slayer to save you. I promise!” At hearing this Spike spoke.

“No! Tell her to stay away. Tell her she has to stay away. Tell her she needs to rest up for the fight that’s gonna come because she has to beat his ass for me!” Spike groaned as he looked above him, seeing only the outline of Mouth’s nodding head. “Just keep her away, keep her safe.” There was a moment of silence before Mouth spoke.

“You really do like her, don’t you?” Mouth asked. He was answered with a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

*

Later, Spike awoke to a blinding light, filling the room. He opened his eyes to see mirrors surrounding him, covering the walls. To his left stood a giant iron tree, with leaves painted on and hanging on one of the iron branches a Punjab lasso. It was an exact replica of the torture chamber in India to which the Sultana sent people to death. No water. Bright light. Scorching heat. And you went mad. Spike closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening his eyes. He looked around knowing that somewhere in the panel of one of the many mirrors, a small nick would be found, which if he pressed it, would spring the panel open and he could escape. All he had to do was find the nick.

He stripped himself of his clothes, knowing it would soon become too hot to function with them on. He looked at his legs and tried to stand up. He chuckled when he found he could stand and walk around fine. The bastard hadn’t done a thing to his legs; at least not as much damage as he thought. After walking around the room a few times, he grabbed his shirt and dropped it in front of one window, marking his starting point. Then, he got to work.


TBC