CHAPTER 1: “Crushed”








Run away


I'm living with a hole inside


A piece of me that I have yet to find


The edge of reason lies uneven


Turn me off, feel the blood so cold


Like a product that was bought in salt


Asking me for the impossible





~Lost it all, Avenged Sevenfold~











There were many things Buffy Summers could be doing right now.





Patrolling, for starters. They couldn’t be too careful with Glory around; after all she wasn’t just a skanky demon with a bad perm and a lopsided ass, but a skanky god with a bad perm and a lopsided ass. With leper hobbits as minions. And she wanted Dawn. Poor little Dawnie who had nothing to do with it, apart from being a former ball of green energy with raging hormones and a lot of potential power to open portals.





And then there was her mom, who had just recovered from brain surgery and now had to worry about some crazy chick trying to take her younger daughter away. Add that to the failure that was her love life and you have a not-so-happy Buffy.





So, yes, there were a lot of things she should be doing right now, but instead she was chained to a wall listening to a vampire ranting about his feelings. His feelings for her .





Yep, life couldn’t get crazier.





Oh, wait, it could. Drusilla was here too, also tied and providing occasional insane comments.





And Spike was still talking.





“You can't tell me that there isn't anything there between you and me. I know you feel something.”





He looked so hopeful and vulnerable —vulnerable? Spike vulnerable? What the hell? — that Buffy almost—almost, but not quite—felt guilty because of the way she was treating him. She had no choice but to be hurtful; after all, Spike had to get it into that thick head of his that there was no way, absolutely NO WAY in hell she was ever going to look at him as boyfriend material. Probably.





Anyway, she had to discourage his attentions because — hello, unsouled vampire— things could get pretty out of hand if he continued to believe he was ever going to have a chance with her.





“It's called revulsion. And whatever you think you're feeling, it’s not love. You can't love without a soul.”





Ha, take that and smoke it, vampire! No one could compete with Buffy-logic.





Drusilla choose just that moment to be uncharacteristically the voice of reason and refute the irrefutable Buffy-logic.





“Oh, we can, you know. We can love quite well. If not wisely.” At that, she smiled at her childe, pity shining in her eyes.





Spike didn’t even notice, seemingly deep in thought, a frown on his face. Buffy expected him to say something to try to make her change her mind and was taken aback by his unaccustomed silence.She took his silence as an invitation to continue lashing out at him.





“See? You have nothing to say to that. You know you’re a soulless disgusting thing and that you will never, and I mean NEVER, have even the smallest chance to—”





“Is that it then?”





Huh? What’s he talking about? Oops, he looks pissed. Great plan, Buffy, make the unstable and potentially dangerous vampire who has you at his mercy angry. Very smart move, really.





“What are you talking about?”





For a second, he just looked straight at her eyes, nostrils flaring, a muscle jumping in his cheek, the very image of barely concealed fury.





“I said, is that it then?” At her blank stare, he rolled his eyes, a movement reminiscent of Buffy herself, and elaborated. “The soul. Are you saying that’s the only thing that makes someone capable of love? Why do you think I stayed with Dru for over a century? It wasn’t because of her conversation skills, let me tell you”. He started pointing at Drusilla, still looking straight into Buffy’s hazel eyes. “That is the face of my salvation. Before Dru, I was nothing. A speck. But when she bit me, she delivered me from mediocrity. For over a century we cut a swath through the continents, shared a bed, drank from the same vein...” Spike started getting lost in the memories, now looking at Drusilla with obvious tenderness, obvious even to someone who lived in denial as much as Buffy.





“A hundred years, and she never stopped surprising me… Never stopped taking me to new depths. I was a lucky bloke, to touch such a black beauty. Lucky just to stand in her light… and you say that wasn’t love?”





Right now, Buffy was really confused. She’d always known Spike truly loved Drusilla. You had to be blind not to see the affection and tenderness, the way Drusilla was his entire world back when he first came to Sunnydale. But she couldn’t really accept that because…if Spike was capable of love, well, that thought raised too many questions. If Spike can love without a soul why didn’t Angelus without one? Or worst yet, why couldn’t souled Angel love me enough to stay? Her mouth, it seemed, was on autopilot, her mind clutching to the teachings of her watcher and the Council.





“Of course that wasn’t love. You can’t love, there’s nothing good or pure in you.” God! Broken record, much? She was sounding reiterative even to her own ears.





“So, is a soul what makes vampires beneath humans? Is that what makes me worse than every sodding soulful serial killer or rapist in the whole bloody world? The fact that I changed doesn’t matter?” Now he looked beyond pissed, ready to rip somebody’s head off. Probably hers.





And still, Buffy couldn’t help herself and snorted. “But you haven’t changed. The chip is the only thing that keeps you from going into a killing spree, and you only kill demons to get your spot of violence. That’s not changing, that’s just adapting and biding your time until the chip is out.”





Buffy paled. He had murder in his eye and although the chip would probably incapacitate him before he could make a movement against her, nothing was stopping him from untying Drusilla and letting her have his way with a helpless slayer.





Suddenly Spike’s entire demeanor changed.





“Well, then.” He took a small key out of his pocket and, before Buffy’s astonished face, unlocked the manacles that kept her wrists bound to the wall. She was just too shocked to react and stake him as soon as she was free, and didn’t even try when he turned his back on her, untying Drusilla.





As soon as the loony vampiress was no longer tied to the pole in the middle of the room, she gave Spike a look full of longing and sadness as she disappeared behind a crack in the wall.





Buffy stood frozen, too shocked to talk, let alone move. Spike was leaning against the dirt wall, his head hung and desolation written all over his face.





“Spike—“





“No, just…Buffy, just leave.”





And with that, Buffy was free from whatever strange spell that had kept her unmoving, and did the only thing he could think of: she punched him in the nose and ran. She ran towards Revello Drive, and didn’t stop until she was in her room, safe from vampires with a split personality disorder and the way they complicated things.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~





Three days later, Spike was pacing. Pacing and drinking himself to numbness, of course. He had been doing so since Buffy left his crypt after his disastrous declaration. He knew it was wrong to force her to listen, but what else could he have done? The irritating bint wouldn’t listen any other way. Yes, at the moment he had thought it was his only option, but now he was feeling confused and… guilty? It was really difficult to think when there were two beings inside his head pushing each other for domination.





His demon was furious, of course, enraged even, and demanded the punishment of the slayer who dared to think he was beneath her, that they were beneath her.





But Spike was not your average vampire, he was more than just a demon inside the shell of a man, like the Council of Wankers insisted on believing; he was a man too, or at least, he used to be one – and a real nancy-boy at that—but retained much of his personality after his turning. And the man in him, the part that was still ‘William the bloody awful poet’ wanted nothing more than to grovel at the slayer’s feet until she decided to have pity of him.





After too much pacing, too much drinking, and truly too much inner debate, he finally reached a decision, a final conclusion. Nothing was going to stop him now.





In a few days, maybe weeks, he was going to be what he had been, and the slayer was going to realize how wrong she was to think he was beneath her. He slipped his beloved duster on and stormed into the night.





He knew what needed to be done.





tbc...

CHAPTER 2: “Great Big White World”



“Not long ago you'd find the answers were so crystal clear

Within a day you found yourself living in constant fear

Can you look at yourself now? Can you look at yourself?

You can’t win this fight”



~Welcome to the family, Avenged Sevenfold~







“I have to ask, were you this fashion-challenged when you were alive or did your family really hate you?” Buffy ducked the fist the fledging she was currently fighting tried to hit her with and continued her one way conversation while repeatedly kneeing his stomach. “ ‘Cos, you know, dressing your relative’s body with an orange suit? Not feeling the love, here.”



The vampire however, who was clearly loosing strength, continued focused on the fight and ignored her hard-thought puns.



The fledging growled while trying to block Buffy’s stream of punches, no longer attacking, now merely defensive. Unfortunately for him, this only helped to enrage the, until now, almost amused Slayer; transforming her punches into vicious kicks.



“Oh, so this is all I got? What does a girl need to do to find a good spot of violence?” the Slayer almost growled, frustration fuelling her anger.



“Ughhh…” By this time, the vampire was barely conscious.



“Are you going to just sit there?” The only answer was the familiar sound of a vampire disintegrating when she buried the stake in his chest as he was struggling so get up.



“Didn’t think so.”



The truth was, Buffy was starting to lose it, she was always on edge these days. Though things with Glory were kind of dead (not in the literal sense, of course), they were always looking over their shoulders, expecting an attack; to think that Glory might give up was too good to be true. The waiting was getting on her nerves. Not being able to do anything but hope the hellgod didn’t find Dawn’s real identity in time made her feel frustrated. And helpless. And that was a feeling she really didn’t like.



So she patrolled, and hoped to unleash her frustration on a good fight, but so far that lone fledging with the lame clothes was the only thing she found.



Geez, you would think a town with twelve cemeteries would be crawling with vampires. This is the Hellmouth, for God’s sake!



Unfortunately, the fact that there was an apocalypse around the corner tended to make all the regular baddies uneasy, as if they sensed it somehow, so they weren’t as active as normal and preferred to keep a low profile.



And no demons to slay made the slayer really cranky. After all she wasn’t asking much, was she? Just a bit of violence before bed to distract her from the mess that was her life. And all she got was a lame fight with a fledging that lasted three minutes tops.



Not like with Spike, I bet he could go all night. Fighting, that is.



And there it was her traitorous mind making her think things she didn’t want to think about.



Spike.



She hadn’t seen him since the ‘tie-you-up-and-make-you-listen incident’ two weeks ago and it was starting to bug her. It wasn’t that she was worried or anything, but he always seemed to be around and now he was nowhere to be found. Of course, she hadn’t actually gone looking for him, for all she knew he could be in his crypt, drinking the day away and thinking about brand new ways to annoy her.



Sure, no worries here. And definitely no more thinking of the bleached menace.



Well, it was easier said than done.



As soon as she entered the front door of her house, her mother called to her from the kitchen. “Buffy, is that you?”



“Yeah,” Buffy said with a huff as she sat in the kitchen counter next to Joyce.



“How come you are back so early? Usually you patrol until much later, it’s barely midnight.”



“Well, the cemeteries were dead – no pun intended. I only slayed a fledging in Restfield.”



Joyce perked up at that, “oh, isn’t there where Spike lives? How is he? I haven’t seen him in weeks.”



Buffy paled. So much for not thinking about him. “Well, I haven’t seen him either. Since…you know, when he told me that he….well, you know.”



“Buffy, you know I was worried about him having feelings for you and how things could get out of hand but, honestly, don’t you think maybe you should have been gentler with him?”



Buffy couldn’t believe her ears. Was her mother implying that Spike was the victim here?



“Mom! He. Tied. Me. Up. And you said I should have been gentler?” she cried out, not understanding what Joyce was implying.



“Honey, I’m just saying that obviously you hurt his feelings and I don’t think that’s a wise thing to do. We need all the help we can get right now. I mean, you haven’t seen him in a while, maybe he left town?”



Buffy froze. Surely he hadn’t left Sunnydale? Of course she knew he might be hurt, but well, it was Spike . He never left. After all, how many times had she told him to skip town? But now she didn’t want him to leave. Even after everything he’d done and said two weeks ago, she was still counting on him to be there to protect Dawn when the time came. He was the only one besides her who would have a chance against Glory, so it was completely normal for her to rely on him.



He was just convenient; it wasn’t like she trusted him or anything, right?



Yeah, keep telling yourself that.



Anyway, even if she trusted Spike, no matter what, he was still a soulless monster. And that line of thought brought her back to what Spike had said that night.



* “Are you saying a soul is the only thing that makes someone capable of love? Why do you think I stayed with Dru for over a century?” *



Why, indeed? If she was being honest, it was pretty clear that Spike, without a soul, could and did feel for Drusilla, but what did that mean? Were all demons sentient beings or was it just Spike? Angelus clearly didn’t feel anything for anyone besides himself so, maybe, just maybe Spike deserved the benefit of the doubt. Things didn’t seem to be black and white anymore; instead, grey areas seemed to appear, defying the teachings of the Council. Everything was confusing, but maybe it was just that he was different.



Her musings were interrupted when a glaring Dawn came into the kitchen (from where she had been eavesdropping, of course) and stood before her.



“So you finally made him leave town? The only person who didn’t treat me like a freak and you had to be a bitch to him!”



“Dawn, language!”Joyce gasped.



“Well, it’s not like it isn’t true,” the teenager answered, flicking her hair.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~





Buffy didn´t know why she was doing this; she just needed to know if he really had left or not. So there she was, roaming Restfield cemetery hours after her usual patrol time. When she reached his crypt however, she was overcome with sudden nervousness.



What if he really is here and I make a fool of myself?



She stood there for what seemed like hours, but in reality were just minutes. Finally she took a deep breath and kicked open the door (after all, it was what she always did and she couldn’t just fall out of character).



As soon as she was inside of the crypt she knew something was wrong. Spike wasn’t there slumped over the easy chair watching TV as always, but of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t in town, seeing as how it was still nighttime and he could go wherever he pleased. Well, sunlight didn’t usually stop him, either. No, everything seemed normal, no signs of a fight or anything (except for a couple of smashed bottles by the door, no doubt destroyed in a fit of temper) but she had the feeling that the crypt had been empty for a while.



Still, she started looking for something out of place and went to check the small fridge on the corner of the room. There were only a half empty bottle of beer and two bags of pig’s blood. It was easy to notice that they were both spoiled. She had her answer now; nobody had been living in the crypt for the last weeks.



Spike was gone.





tbc...

CHAPTER 3: "Mutilation Is The Most Sincere Form Of Flattery"


I see through you

The fear that's in your eyes

A good friend once told me we are memory

Without them we equal nothing

And all I can see is the place I wanna be

Timeless my life was so free

Leaves at my feet, blown to the ground

their echoes are reaching my ears

Nights coming fast, suns going down - confused

I don't know the answers but neither do you

~Remenissions, Avenged Sevenfold~



Spike took a deep unnecessary breath and stepped past the entrance to the cave.

After just a few steps, he faltered and looked around at the almost complete darkness surrounding him. This was it; judging by the startled cries of the villagers when they saw him heading this way, something nasty lived around here. Finally, he had found the place where the demon he was looking for was settled, according to what he heard so long ago. A demon in Africa who grants wishes to every creature he deems worthy. When he overheard the conversation taking place in the corner table of that seedy pub in Prague, he almost fell off his stool, laughing. After all, what would a demon ('specially a vampire) need a wish for? If you wanted something, you just took it; that was how thinks worked for them.

Want. Take. Have.

Oh, but now he understood. He understood the pain of wanting something you couldn't possibly have, and the consuming need that drives you to do everything you can do in order to get a chance.

He understood, in a moment of perfect clarity while Buffy babbled about how he was a disgusting monster, that he wouldn't have an opportunity with her. Ever.

Or at least, for as long as he continued to be a soulless demon. So here he was, about to ask for restoration, and the truth was, he was scared. Was he ready for this? Hell, yeah. He would always be love's bitch.

What he didn't understand was why Buffy would think a soul would change anything. It didn't do any good to Angelus, after all. The Poof was still the same bastard who used to beat him to submission when he was a fledging; the only difference was, with the soul, Angelus was restrained.

And she said the chip made him like a serial killer in prison.

For Spike, the only thing the soul did was make Angelus feel all the guilt of his past actions, thus forcing him to draw a line between his former self and the new and improved ‘Angel'; making him create that other version of himself, the brooding and brow furrowing Captain Forehead, a vampire seeking redemption. God, how lame was that?

Great, now he was starting to sound like her.

Mentally shaking himself, Spike continued into the cave, flicking his lighter open and staring at the strange images adorning the walls. Pictures of people's faces in pain, bodies with blood pouring out of them. A black figure holding out an arm towards another figure, which was red and dripping blood.

Lovely.

A breeze blew out the lighter, so flicking it closed, Spike continued into the cave; he could sense something moving back there.

Sure enough, as soon as he stepped into the darkest part of the cave, a deep gravelly voice echoed from behind him, "You seek me, vampire?"

Deciding to go for the ‘I-couldn't-care-less' attitude, he adopted a relaxed position and looked at the general direction the voice had come from. "You do the finger paintings? Nice work."

"Answer me." He could barely make the shape of the demon standing in the corner, the only thing clearly visible were his glowing green eyes.

"Yeah. I seek you."

"Something about a woman. The slayer"

Wish granting and mind reader. Go figure.

With barely concealed anger, Spike nodded. "Thinks she's better than me. Ever since I got this bleeding chip in my head, things ain't been right. Everything's gone to hell."

"And you want to be returned to your former self."

"Yeah." At that, the demon started laughing evilly.

"What?" snapped Spike, clearly annoyed.

"Look what she's reduced you to."

Spike stared at the floor, clearly ashamed. "It's this bloody chip-"

"You were a legendary dark warrior, and you let yourself be castrated." Spike's head whipped round to look at the demon in astonishment, fury shining in his eyes. "And you have the audacity to crawl in here and demand restoration?"

"I'm still a warrior."

"You're a pathetic excuse for a demon."

Now more than angry, Spike lashed out, "Yeah? I'll show you pathetic. Give me your best shot."

"You'd never endure the trials required to grant your request."

"Do your worst. But when I win ... I want what I came here for. "

The demon just stared at him, His breathing the only sound in the cave, but saying nothing.

"Bitch is gonna see a change." He whispered, staring at the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Spike stood alone in pitch blackness, his shirt discarded on the floor, moving around anxiously, like a caged panther.

The demon's voice reverberated again, "You understand, then?"

Spike sneered, "Yeah yeah - it's not like you haven't been clear about it, oh great mysterious one. This is a test. I don't get what I want unless I pass said test. That about the size and shape?"

"Yes."

"And since you got your pad decked out gladiator style, and no number two pencils have been provided - I guess we're not starting with the written."

The demon didn't say anything.

"Well?" Not hearing a response, Spike turned around, only to find that the demon wasn't there anymore. In his place stood a very large fellow, who seemed to be made entirely of muscles.

Spike seized him up. "Ah. Here we go, then. Just me and the walking action figure. I'm venturing this would be the Kill-or-be-killed type situation, then?"

The demon spoke again from the shadows, "To the death."

Spike, grinning, squared off with Muscleman. "Right. Here we are now. Entertain us."

Suddenly, Muscleman grinned evilly and his fists erupted into flame, providing an eerie light that illuminated the two combatants in the darkness of the cave.

Spike stared at this obvious advantage his adversary had, and gulped, "Oh son of a b-"

He was interrupted by a flaming fist hitting him in the side of his head so hard, that he spun and hit the dirt. He scrambled, scuttling back.

Muscleman moved again, and faster than someone so big should move, slammed his fist into Spike's face again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Spike scrambled back to his feet after snapping Muscleman's neck. It hadn't been easy, for a moment there he thought he was going to add to the dust in that cave, at the hands of the Action Man on steroids.

It was over now. Grinning triumphantly, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and faced the demon. "Looks like the local boy loses."

"So it would appear."

"Good on me, then. So? I get what I came for? I passed, right?"

"Indeed. You have passed...the first stage of the test."

"Right, then I... wait..." he turned to look at the demon, "first stage?"

The only answer was a long silence.

"Bugger."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Spike was lying motionless on the dirt floor. He was badly beaten, but alive. Well, undead. He had finally passed all the tests and was ready to get his reward.

"You have endured the required trials."

"Bloody right, I have." With great effort, a bleeding and bruised Spike rolled to the side and pushed himself back to his knees, facing the demon. "So you'll give me what I want. Make me what I was. So Buffy can get what she deserves."

"Very well." The demon took a step forward so he was in the dimly lit part of the cave. "We will return..." he placed a hand in Spike's chest, finishing the sentence, "your soul."

Spike's eyes glowed orange as he threw his head back, screaming in agony. For what seemed like an eternity, the only thing he knew was pain.


TBC...

CHAPTER 4: “ I Want To Kill You Like They Do In The Movies ”

Take the time just to listen
When the voices screaming are much too loud
Take a look in the distance
Try and see it all

~Buried alive , Avenged Sevenfold~




He wasn’t sure how long he remained lying on the dirt floor, shaking with pain and confusion his newly received soul had caused. At first there was the physical pain of the invasion, but after a few moments (hours, days maybe?) it became a dull ache in the back of his mind. It was then that he noticed the first effects of the soul connecting with his self. While his demon tried to rebel at the intrusion, there was a part of him that welcomed the soul like a long lost friend.

In these few moments of clarity, he experienced a feeling of completeness he had never felt before. And then all hell broke loose.

Because there were voices.

So many voices of so many people he didn’t even remember. Voices without faces swirling around him, blaming him for so many different transgressions and demanding retribution for things he had done. Worst of all he heard, saw, and felt every single death he had caused; heard every single neck cracking, saw every single fear-filled gaze, tasted every single last drop of blood.

He felt guilt, a gut wrenching sensation like nothing he had ever felt, and it was too much.

He didn’t know how or when he grabbed his duster and crawled out of the cave, how he went back to civilization, nor how he managed to sneak inside a cargo ship. The only thing his brain was capable of processing was that he needed to get back. To get back home. To get back to her.

While he got closer and closer to North America, his sanity began to slip away from him. Once the voices and the pain got too strong, the man in him, his human side, surrendered and hid behind the demon, trusting it to protect them from the guilt. When he finally reached the American coast, there was nothing left of his former self. He had no name, no memory; he was just a feral demon following his instincts.

And his instincts were guiding him to one place: Sunnydale.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


It had been three really long weeks.

Buffy sat on the back porch and sighed. Glory hadn’t shown up, but they knew the day of the ritual was drawing near. Time was short and they didn’t have a plan, except killing Dawn, and that was so not happening. They needed something more, a better plan, more weapons, and stronger people protecting Dawn…

And Spike had left town. She was completely sure of that. The night after finding his crypt abandoned, she decided to go looking for him. The first stop was, obviously, Willie’s. Even after punching the bartender a few times, he still insisted he hadn’t seen Spike and had no idea where to find him. After a few more punches, she decided to believe him. She perked up when she saw Clem, a loose skinned demon that she had seen hanging around Spike’s place a couple of times. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much more information either.

“Look, Slayer, I really had no idea where he is but, please, don’t slay me for telling you that, okay? If Spike hasn’t been by his crypt in weeks, and I can tell you he didn’t came to play kitten poker one single time either, it’s possible he skipped town altogether. God knows he would be better far from here, let me tell you.”

It was pretty clear he had left, but she couldn’t help but wonder why. Sure, she had rejected and punched him, but it wasn’t like him to just leave at the first sign of trouble. It wasn’t like this was the first time she had gone for his nose, either. But there was something different this time.

Now she knew he loved her.

Not long ago she had finally reached the conclusion that Spike, somehow, was different from the other vampires.

For some reason, he had more control over his demon and it was obvious he could feel deep emotions; he used to love Drusilla, after all. So that was why she was beginning to believe that maybe he loved her and, well, it was nice to think that someone could have feelings of such a depth for her. Even if she didn’t love him back.

Although she had to be blind not to notice how hot he was and—

She wasn’t going there, in fact, she wasn’t even thinking about him anymore. Yep, not thinking about the hot vampire anymore.

Yeah, whatever you say. You know you want him—

Shut up, subconscious.

Ah, denial is a nice place to live.

After three weeks of intense thinking and way too much prompting by her mother and sister, she had decided to give him a chance. Not in the romantic sense, of course, but to give him an opportunity to show how he had changed and maybe someday become allies or even friends. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could give at the moment and, anyway, it didn’t matter because he had left. Just like every other man in her life.

Not like he was a man or anything, but still… With a deep sigh, Buffy stood and walked back into the house.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Unbeknownst to the now sleeping slayer, a feral creature was barging into town. The vampire didn’t recognize anything around him; the streets, the buildings, they didn’t hold any significance to him. He moved around blindly, keeping himself hidden in shadows, apparently looking for something.

Suddenly he stopped, sniffing. There was something he recognized; it wasn’t even a smell, it was the echo of a smell. A memory so deeply imbedded in his brain that even in his addled state he could remember a wisp of it.

Vampires. Family.

Following the memory or the scent, he found an old mansion and went inside. He looked for a place dark enough for him to hide and wait. For what? He didn’t know.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Two days later, the Slayer was walking back from her nightly patrol, when her ‘spidey’ sense went off.

She stopped in her tracks, it wasn’t the usual ‘vampire!’ feeling she got when patrolling. It felt as if there was a master vampire nearby and something else, she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Deciding to investigate a bit before going home, she followed her slayer senses until she was standing before the old mansion on Crawford Street. The very same mansion Angelus had ‘purchased’ three years ago.

Pushing the memories of Angel to the back of her mind, she went inside and continued looking for the mystery.

She found the source of the vampire tingles from behind a closed door on the second floor. As soon as she entered, she spotted a figure huddled between the bed and the dresser, trembling and looking miserable.

She was about to dust the pathetic looking vampire, when she recognized the platinum hair and the duster wrapped around him.

She couldn’t help herself and gasped, “Spike.”

At the sound he raised his head and looked at her realizing he wasn’t alone in the room. As she met his eyes, she took a step back in surprise. It wasn’t that he was in game face; it was that the yellow eyes that stared at her were cold and held no recognition in them.

She realized her mistake in entering the mansion when a feral vampire tackled her to the floor and buried his fangs in her neck.


TBC...

CHAPTER 5: ”If I Was Your Vampire”

I'm alone in here
No more feelings
Killed my fears
Don't ask
you'll never know
you're left behind and I'll be exposed

~Desecrate Through Reverance, Avenged Sevenfold~



She expected the pain.

It surely had hurt a lot when the Master had bitten her; she didn’t remember Dracula’s bite very well and when Angel bit her…well, he’d almost drained her, and though it had been a mildly sensual experience, it certainly had hurt like hell.

So yes, she expected the pain. What she didn’t expect was for the vampire attacking her to be almost…gentle. While he bit deep, he didn’t try to rip into her throat and she was surprised to feel, after the initial stab of pain, something different. The sucking motion of his mouth around the wound seemed to send incredible pleasure spreading through her veins. It was a euphoric sensation, and for a second, Buffy wondered if this was the usual when a vampire wasn’t trying to kill you. No wonder Riley went to get bitten by vampire hos.

It only lasted a second though, as Spike retracted his fangs after barely two mouthfuls.

She couldn’t believe what was happening. Spike was lying on top of her body, his face buried in her neck while he licked the holes he had left there until they stopped oozing blood.

She was startled when he started to purr.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


She didn’t know how long she remained laying on the floor, too stunned to move. Spike hadn’t moved either, content to stay on top of her nuzzling her neck and purring like a kitten.

Huh, who knew vampires purred?, she mentally giggled,I’m not going to let Spike live this down; as soon as he is back to normal—

Well, that was another problem; she had no idea why Spike was behaving like this so there was no way to know how to bring him back to normal—or as normal as a chipped vampire could be.

She tried to wriggle from her position between Spike and the floor but the vampire wouldn’t allow that, tightening his hold on her waist, growling in her ear. The intent was clear: it was a warning.

Ooookay, not moving then.

With nothing more than time on her hands, her mind started to wander. What could have possibly happened to Spike? He’d been fine when she left him in the crypt, extremely pissed off, but fine. Then he went MIA for three weeks while her mother and sister blamed her, and now he was back but all growly.

Wait…he’s all fangy and growly…like Angel when he came back from hell.

So, feral vampire then. But he wasn’t trying to attack her or anything (except for biting her, that is) while Angel had kept trying to attack her until he snapped out of it. What would it take for Spike to be back to what he used to be? Time? She didn’t have much of that, so she tried reasoning with him.

“Spike? Can you hear me?”

He raised his head and looked at her directly in the eye, cocking his head to one side, as if trying to figure out what she meant.

Sighing, she tried again, her voice calm and even so as not to startle him.“Spike, do you know who I am? Buffy?” She hoped her name would bring forth some recognition, but still his eyes showed nothing more than bewilderment. Surprising how she could see that although he was wearing his demon visage.

Okay, plan B.

She renewed her struggles in order to escape the vampire’s embrace, only this time, gently pushing at his chest until he rolled onto his back, unfortunately he was still griping her waist, so she ended up sprawled over his chest.

Well, at least I’m on top now.

Buffy started stroking his brow in order to relax him and, surprisingly, it worked. He began to lean into the caress, tilting his head like a cat would. She was mesmerized by the movements and sounds he was making. Who would have thought that Spike would react this way to tenderness?

Not like she was being tender or anything.

Nope, no tenderness here. This is just a strategy to get him to let go of me so I can go home.

Still, she kept caressing his face long after his arms were no longer around her and he was asleep on the floor, tiredness seeming to have caught up with him.

Now that she had the chance to really look at him, she was startled to notice how bad he looked. His skin was deathly pale (more than usual), his lips were cracked, and he had dark circles under his eyes. Though she had never seen him shirtless, she always guessed he had nice body, lean but well-built and, thanks to Willow’s ‘my will be done’ spell, she was well accustomed with his muscular chest. Now he looked just skinny, his usually skin tight tee hanging in tatters around his frame. In fact, he looked exactly like when he had shown up on Giles’s doorstep with the chip freshly implanted begging for help. Only worse.

When was the last time he’d fed? She remembered what Spike said on Thanksgiving about starved vampires being ‘like famine pictures from those dusty countries, only not half as funny’. Could vampires possibly dust from starvation?

Where is Giles when I need him?

While she was sitting there staring at him, Spike began to fidget in his sleep, one hand moving to his chest. Buffy griped his wrist when she realized he was clawing at the place over his heart. She could see through the rips in his T-shirt that there were half healed scars already there. Determined to figure out what was happening, she ripped his T-shirt open and gasped at the sight.

There were multiple gashes over his heart, as if he were trying to claw it out. His chest and stomach were covered in bruises of multiple sizes and different stages of healing, and he had a nasty looking burn near his right shoulder. She was sure he had some broken ribs, because she could see the ends poking through his skin. He looked as if someone had beaten him up and then he couldn’t heal because of starvation.

When he whimpered, still asleep, she threw caution to the wind and gathered him in her arms, cradling his body against her chest until he calmed down again.

After the vampire temporarily settled, Buffy ran around the adjoining rooms until she found a wooden chest with some sturdy looking chains and manacles inside. Going back to the room where Spike was curled on the floor, she locked one manacle around his bare ankle—where are his boots?—and the other around a ring attached to the wall.

Feeling confident that the feral vampire wasn’t going to escape anytime soon, Buffy walked out the door into the early morning air, striding towards her house.

It wasn’t until she was climbing the steps to the front porch, that she realized something that made her stop with her hand reaching for the doorknob.

Spike bit her. And the chip didn’t go off.

She was so screwed.


TBC...

CHAPTER 6: "I Don't Like The Drugs (But The Drugs Like Me)"




Norm life baby "I'm just a sample of a soul made to look just like a human being."

~I Don't Like The Drugs (But The Drugs Like Me), Marilyn Manson~




Insistent knocking on her bedroom door jarred her from a dreamless sleep. Groaning, Buffy turned and covered her head with the pillow, determined to block the sounds that were trying to wake her up from the first full-night sleep she'd had in weeks. The knocking wasn't going anywhere though, and soon her mother's worried filled words reached her ears.

"Buffy, honey, are you OK? It's past noon already and you're still in bed. Are you feeling under the weather?"

With another groan, she dragged herself from bed and went to open the door to an anxious mother.

"I'm fine, mom, really. Just feeling tired I guess."

Joyce frowned and looked more worried for the minute. "Are you saying something's making you weak? Like when Mr. Giles set you up for that barbaric ritual when you turned 18?"

Buffy sighed, her mother could be such a nag sometimes, "No, mom. No ritual and, definitely, no watcher betrayal. It's just usual tiredness."

Joyce fixed her daughter with her patented ‘I'm the mom and I know better' stare. "Well, that's the thing. Buffy, you never get tired, or at least not so much that you have to sleep until noon. Now, are you going to tell me what's making the Slayer so weak?"

Um, a vampire munching at my neck, maybe?

Well, but that wasn't so bad, was it?

She huffed at her traitorous mind yet again making her consider things she didn't want to think about. If she was being honest, she could tell that the bite wasn't so serious; after all, Spike only took a few mouthfuls and anyway, the mark would be healed by tomorrow. The comatose sleeping was probably because of the emotional turmoil of last night and her own concern over the uncertainty of Dawn's situation. The fact that Spike was a feral vampire now was the cherry on top of her worry-sundae.

Should she keep Spike's situation a secret, then? That didn't seem like a good idea; after all, sooner or later everyone was going to find out about the feral vampire chained to a wall inside the mansion, and if she had kept it from them, they would think she was protecting another vampire yet again. And she wasn't, was she?

Oh, shit. Of course she was.

Buffy looked at her mother standing by the door, tapping a foot impatiently and decided to confide in, at least, one person.

"OK, let's go downstairs and I'll try to explain, all right?"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Half an hour later, the two eldest Summers women sat at the kitchen counter, a cup of hot cocoa in front of each of them.

"So, let me see if I got it right; Spike was strangely calm when you had just essentially broken his heart, then he disappeared for a few weeks, and now he's back but in some kind of feral state, badly beaten and he doesn't recognize you. Right?"

Buffy nodded, staring at her steaming chocolate. "And he bit me, so his chip's not working."

Joyce looked pensive, "I see... well that explains a lot of things." She rose from the stool and went to wash the cup in the sink.

The Slayer just frowned, staring at her mother. "Huh? No, that doesn't explain anything. No explanations, that's the problem...umm what do you mean?"

Joyce sighed and sat again in front of her daughter. "Well, you see, after Spike and you had that ‘talk' he came here and we chatted," she ignored Buffy's outraged ‘mom!' and continued with her tale, "and he told me everything that happened at the crypt and that he had a plan of sorts. He said he was going to make you ‘see how much he changed' or something along those lines, and that he needed to go for a while but that he would come back. So I'm thinking that he somehow got rid of his chip, something went wrong and that's why he's out of it right now." Joyce finished, clearly proud of herself. "That doesn't explain why he isn't feeding, though."

Buffy shook her head. "I don't think that's it. Maybe he did try to have his chip removed, but something else must have happened. A surgery gone wrong wouldn't make a vampire revert to a feral state; at least, I don't think so. I should ask Giles, I guess." She paused at that. "Only I shouldn't because he would, you know, stake him."

Joyce looked horrified. "Oh Buffy, but Mr. Giles wouldn't do that, would he?" At her daughter's expression, she backpedalled. "Well, you can't let him do that."

The slayer looked at her mother and tried to ease her fears. "Don't worry, mom. I won't let him kill a defenseless creature."

Instead of being appeased, Joyce looked annoyed. "I don't expect you to spare his life because he is defenseless! I expect you to do it because he is a nice young man and-"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You do know there's at least three things wrong in that sentence, right?"

Joyce just narrowed her eyes and continued, "... a nice young man and I raised you better that that, didn't I?"

Buffy was opening her mouth to answer, when she was interrupted by her sister running down the stairs until she was standing next to the door, denim jacket already on.

"So, are we going or what?" the teen asked, arms crossed and hip cocked to the side.

Buffy frowned, while Joyce just smiled knowingly. "Going where, Dawn?"

The Key smiled and said perkily, "To the butcher to get some blood and then to see Spike, of course."

Joyce laughed at her younger daughter's antics. "You were eavesdropping again, weren't you?"

"Yep."

Buffy sighed and looked annoyed at her mother and sister."I can see there's nothing I can say to make you stay here, so we're going-" Dawn let out a piercing squeal, the kind only teenagers can manage, "but you're both staying in the car until I'm sure Spike's restrained. He's still a very dangerous, unchipped, feral vampire, you know."

Dawn muttered something along the lines of "yeah, whatever" and went outside. Buffy turned to face her mother, a puzzled expression on her face. "Mom, if you knew all this time that Spike was out of town for a while, why did you make me look for him?"

Joyce looked at the Slayer, smiling wickedly. "Well, young lady, it was your fault he left in the first place." And with that, she went to get the car, leaving a fuming slayer behind.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


As soon as she entered the room carrying several packets of blood, the vampire's head whipped around, and he started to softly growl at her.

Uh, I should have known he would be pissed after being left here chained.

She walked across the room until she was near him, but still out of reach, and sat on the floor. Spike sniffed and seemed to recognize her scent, for his growls stopped and he went back to whimpering.

I wonder if he's already healing and he recognizes my scent from before or just from last night. And the whole vampire sniffing thing, ewwww.

She held a blood bag out until he snatched it, looking suspicious.

"It's pig's blood, you big baby. Come on. You need it to heal."

He sniffed at the blood -again with the disgusting sniffing thing- and, making a disgusted face, threw it against the opposite wall, where it splattered, blood dripping down the wall.

"Great, look what you did. Do you think pig's blood is free or something? I had to pay for it, you know." Buffy paused when she noticed the vampire staring hungrily at her neck.

"No way, buster. This neck is completely off limits! It's pig's blood for you."

She didn't realize how fast he could move, even being so weak, so she found herself pressed to the floor, with a vampire drinking happily from her neck. Again.

She rolled her eyes, this was getting old really fast. And wait, there was a vampire at her neck ¿how wrong was that?

Her body tensed, preparing to throw him off when Spike retracted his fangs and licked the wound closed. Pushing at his shoulders, the Slayer managed to turn him onto his back and, straddling his waist, whipped out a stake from her back pocket.

"That's it! I should just stake you and get over it. You can't keep using me as a pincushion and as soon as everything is back to normal-"

"Buffy, is everything alright?" Her mother's worried voice sounded from the doorway, where she was standing next to Dawn and staring at the visible bite mark on Buffy's neck.

Buffy scrambled back to her feet and walked to her mother. "Mom, what are you doing here? I told you to wait in the car! Anyway, I'm fine, but I wouldn't say no to some OJ. Let's go back home, OK?"

Both women were oblivious to the teenager now sitting close to the whimpering vampire. Too close. When she reached a hand to touch his face, a growl erupted from his throat, making Buffy and Joyce turn back to watch horrified what was happening inside the room.

"Dawn, don't!"


TBC...

CHAPTER 7: “They Said That Hell's Not Hot”


Caught up in this madness too blind to see
Woke animal feelings in me
Took over my sense and I lost control
I'll taste your blood tonight

~Scream, Avenged Sevenfold~




Both women were oblivious to the teenager now sitting close to the whimpering vampire. Too close. When she reached a hand to touch his face, a growl erupted from his throat, making Buffy and Joyce turn back to watch, horrified at what was happening inside the room.
“Dawn, don’t!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Buffy knew she wouldn’t reach them in time; Spike would rip her little sister’s throat out before she had a chance to raise her stake. Still, she tried and ran towards them, so intent on her task that she failed to notice that Spike wasn’t biting Dawn. I fact, he was hugging her waist while she rocked the distraught vampire from side to side and petted his head.

Buffy stopped in her tracks. He was purring again. He purred for everyone, it seemed.

Wow, jealous much?

At least now he seemed to recognize people without biting first. Did that mean that his mind was already healing? Maybe time was all he needed.

Dawn raised her head and looked at her sister from her position kneeling on the floor. “Buffy, we have to help him.”

“I know, Dawnie,” She looked at the distraught vampire hugging her sister, “I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Two hours later, Buffy was lying on her bed, staring at a crack in the ceiling and unable to sleep. There were too many things or her mind to even think about sleeping. She knew that Dawn was right and that they had to help Spike recover, but she didn’t know what to do in order to help him. The only one who knew what had happened to him was Spike himself, and he wasn’t very communicative at the moment. If she wanted answers, she would have to go to the man who seemed to know everything. Her watcher.

And if she was going to tell him, she might as well tell the gang, too. After all she wasn’t keeping secrets from her friends, mainly because she didn’t want them to think this was like when Angel returned from Hell. Because it wasn’t. She didn’t care for this vampire, for starters; she was only trying to help him because she needed him back to his former self. Now that he was back, she wasn’t so sure if giving him a chance to prove himself as a possible friend was a good idea. His feral state only helped her see him as what he was: a vampire. A purely evil and disgusting creature; she would have to be crazy in order to trust Spike.

Only, she did trust him, or at least she trusted him enough to accept his help with protecting her sister. If only out of the feeling of respect between two warriors, she knew he would protect Dawn; after all, he made a truce with her in order to save the world once. She knew that, if he promised to help again, he would keep that promise no matter what.

He might be a vampire, but he always did what he said he was going to do; always upfront about his plans, ever since that first time they met. His honest “I kill you” in answer to her question about what would happen on Saturday was a perfect example of his transparence.
So maybe it wasn’t such a crazy thing to trust Spike a little. Boy, she was confused.

Buffy sighed and turned around so she was facing the window. Tomorrow, she thought, research party. I’ll tell the gang everything, and with their help I’ll find out how to help Spike. And if Giles seem to be stake-happy? Well, it’s just Spike, after all.

Ignoring the inner voice disagreeing with her and the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of her stomach, she closed her eyes, determined to get some sleep before the meeting in just a few hours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The bell above the door in the Magic Box jingled, announcing her entrance. Anya looked up from her place behind the counter, fixing on her most sunny smile. “Welcome to the Magic Box, today we have some great deals and…oh it’s you. I mean, hello, Buffy, please sit down and try not to scare my customers away.” She smiled at Xander, obviously pleased with herself. “See, Xander? I can be nice.”

He just rolled his eyes and turned to greet the Slayer. “Hey, Buffster. How are things going?”

She sat on the only chair left at the table, smiling at the group gathered there. “Hi, guys. Actually, I have something to research.”

Willow’s perked up at that, “Ooh, research party! Not that we aren’t researching now, with the Glory thing, but, well, we haven’t found anything new, and, well, what do you need?”

Giles looked up from his book, taking off his glasses.”Yes, Buffy. What do you need our help for? A demon, perhaps?”

She looked at her Watcher, nervously wringing her hands. “Umm not exactly, well it’s…I’m not sure what happened and…” spit it out, already! “Spike is back.”

Giles looked confused at his charge. “I was not aware of his having left.”

“He left some weeks ago and I don’t know where he went, but my mom made me look for him and I couldn’t find him and now he’s back.”

Xander raised his hand, smiling uncertainly. “Umm Buff? What does the Bleached Menace have to do with anything?”

She sighed. Let’s get this over with. “Ok, I’m going to start at the beginning. You remember how a few weeks ago Spike tied me up and told me that he loved me?” She waited for the expected reactions of her best friend and her Watcher before continuing. Sure enough, Xander mumbled something angrily and Giles started cleaning his glasses. “So after that, he left and was gone for a few weeks, but he came back the other day. The thing is, I don’t know what happened to him, but he was badly beaten and he wasn’t… he’s not himself. I don’t know how, but he seemed to be all feral and growly; at first he didn’t even recognized me, but after he bit me…oops?” She cringed, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

“He what? You let him bit you?” Xander said, always quick to jump to conclusions.

“Oh, my god! His chip’s not working!” Willow gasped, looking worriedly at Tara.

“Well, that surely changes things. I hope you realize that you need to do your duty. Now that he is no longer restrained by an electronic device in his head, he is dangerous and unstable. He needs to be terminated.” Giles kept rubbing his glasses, waiting for the Slayer to agree with his decision.

Buffy looked at all the faces staring at her, her voice wavering. “Umm I’m not going to kill him. Guys, he’s the only one, besides me, strong enough to protect Dawn against Glory. We have to help him.”

Giles stared at her, but his face showed nothing. “Buffy, I sincerely hope you’re not developing any kind of sympathetic feelings towards Spike. We may need him to fight Glory, but you can’t let that fact keep you from performing your duty as the Slayer.”

“What? No, no feelings. I just need him to help me against Glory, but he’s not with the helpfulness right now, being feral and all. And he’s not that dangerous, I mean, yes, his chip is not working, and he bit me, but, after tasting my blood he seemed to recognize me and Dawn.”

Xander gasped, “So he bit you and you didn’t dust him? And why was Dawn there? Are you completely out of your mind?”

Willow looked at her childhood friend, nodding her agreement. “Xander’s right. Buffy, you should have dusted him. He could have hurt Dawn! And why didn’t you tell us sooner? We’re your friends.”

Xander sneered, “That’s right, Buff. How long have you been hiding a vampire instead of dusting him? Uh?”

A fist slamming down the table startled them all. “Enough!” The Watcher looked at all the faces staring at him before setting his eyes on his charge. “Buffy, you’re not thinking clearly. Giving an out of control vampire access to your neck is a questionable movement, at best. You can’t use your blood as a remedy to heal vampires every time you feel like it!”

“What are you implying? I only did that once! To help Angel, and this is not the same at all. I’m not using my blood to heal Spike! And…wait does that mean that slayer blood can help him?”

“Well, I can’t be certain about that, but slayer blood is known to be a very potent remedy for vampires…but that doesn’t mean you have to feel obligated to give him your blood. Please, tell us what happened so we can reach an agreement on whether you should dust Spike or not.”

Xander mumbled under his breath, “Or we could just agree on dusting Captain Peroxide and be done with it.”

Buffy huffed and proceeded to tell the whole tale.

Two hours later they weren’t any nearer to deciding what to do with Spike, but it didn’t matter. Whether her friends decided to help her or not, she had some answers now. Apparently, something had happened to Spike that hurt him either physically or mentally so badly that his personality retreated behind the demon for protection. Now she knew the only possible remedy was slayer blood. She started walking to the mansion with a spring in her step.

She had a vampire to help.


TBC...