A/N: I thank the people who are sticking around/waiting impatiently or patiently for my updates – sorry for the long waits! Ashlee gets credit for Spike’s line denoted by *
Breakdown so far: Spike’s side = Illyria, Wesley, Darla, Lorne, Gunn, Harmony, Faith, Cordelia, and Buffy. Angel’s side = Drusilla, Lindsay, Riley, Connor, Lilah, Eve, Doyle. (10-8 after Angelus’ current loss)
~*~*~*~
Spike woke when he reached over and found nothing. Briefly, his mind questioned whether it had been reality or imagination. Through squinted eyes, he saw the imprint her body had left next to him and the concaved shape in the pillow where her head had been, but the sheets were cold.
It was no surprise. Spike had expected her to run - the fire he had seen in her eyes told him so. He was amused, like he had expected he would be, but somehow, the amused laugh in his head turned…a bit…bitter.
That memory flashed through his head, the one he thought he had long gotten over, and he clenched his jaw to suppress it. Stretching his neck in tense motions, he flung the covers off his body and jumped to his feet. He hoped a shower would relax him, because she did not want to see him aggravated. It would only be worse for her that way.
~
She stared at the mirror…again. It seemed she was always staring at herself in the mirror lately. Her expression had long since lost the pep she used to possess.
~
“Fucking find the bastard and arrest him already, damn it!” Hank yelled into the phone before slamming it down harshly.
Buffy was lying face down on her bed. She had been there all afternoon. As a matter of fact, she hardly moved from that spot in the past few days, ever since it happened. She heard her father’s final yell and a loud slam. But she knew the concern in his voice wasn’t because he was wracked with a broken heart over Joyce – it was because he hated the idea that someone thought they could mess with what was his. Joyce, after all, was his wife, and a respectable one in the eyes of his colleagues.
Buffy couldn’t even remember when they had stopped loving each other. Their demeanors grew curt and formal. Only with her children did Joyce turn into the warm heart she really was. They never divorced; they stayed together for the sake of the family, the ‘children,’ and for the sake of Hank’s reputation.
“Buffy!” her father’s angry yell came closer. He was marching up the stairs. She remained unmoving, ignoring him. He flung the door open, and ordered, “Get up.”
“Why,” she asked quietly with disinterest.
“Because you’ve been locked up in here for three days! You’ve missed school and your stupid counselors keep calling here! This isn’t some excuse to freeload, Buffy!” Hank lectured in a stern voice.
Her eyes widened incredulously. She shifted so that she could look at Hank with a hurt and angry expression. “Freeload?? How can you say that?” she ground out in a trembling voice. “Mom is dead,” the known statement questioned his ridiculous accusation.
Not liking her accusatory tone, Hank raised his voice, “And whose fault is that, Buffy??”
Silence permeated the room as Buffy took in his words. Her face contorted into an expression of pain as her heart broke. It was exactly what she had been dreading to hear for the past three days. The thing was, she believed it – she believed it was her fault. And now her own father just threw it in her face.
She choked out a sob and started to rush to her feet. Hank’s expression faltered for a minute – almost regretting what he had said, but as Buffy pushed past him to run out the door, he demanded, “Where are you going?”
Buffy didn’t respond, tears running down her face. She just ran down the stairs and out of her house as her screaming father’s voice faded, but his accusatory question was already burned into her mind.
When she finally reached Willow’s house, the tears were long gone. Her best friend saw her and Buffy didn’t have to say anything – she just ran into Willow’s embrace. Willow waited for Buffy to cry on her shoulder, but it never came. Willow pulled back with a worried look, and saw, in Buffy’s eyes, a trace of emptiness that wasn’t there before.
~
The days after that were too much to bear, to the point that it had gutted her, wiped her emotions away.
Until now. They had made her feel fear once again, the kind she only ever had when her mother’s life flashed before her eyes. She felt contempt and bitterness towards them, towards him, and Buffy realized it wasn’t just because of what they had done to her, but also because she preferred the numbness, and he stole it from her.
Was she sick? Demented? Was there something wrong with her? How could she have reacted like that? To him? Her face twisted in anguish as the shame flooded through her body. She willed the memories away, but she kept remembering the way her body responded, and she felt like throwing up again.
Her body began to shake, and her face showed her resistance as she fought the oncoming tears. It would be so easy to just let go and let the anguish slide down her face, but she fought it. She started to convulse for air, gripping the edges of the counter.
The sound of a door opening loudly jolted her upright, and she snapped out of it, quickly wiping the barely-shed tear away from the corner of her eye. Her heart started jumping as she braced herself for whoever had come into her room. ‘Please don’t be him,’ she thought inwardly, but logic seemed to tell her that it was unlikely since he would make someone bring her to him.
“Let’s go!” a familiar voice barked at her.
The bathroom door flung open to reveal Cordelia, looking impatient. She dropped a large bag on the ground and threw a bundle of clothing in her hands at Buffy. “Get dressed,” she ordered.
Buffy caught the bundle, and looked down at it in confusion. She pulled the clothing apart to see what it was. Her jaw gaped open as she stared at the outfit. “Leather?!” she asked in disbelief. They wanted her to dress like them. “I’ll look whorish!”
Cordelia looked insulted, put her hands on her hips, and demanded, “Are you saying I look like a whore?”
Buffy looked her up and down. Leather catsuit. “Whore? No. Dominatrix? Yes.”
Cordelia gave her a tight smile, “As long as it’s dominating.” With that, she slammed the bathroom door shut violently. “And hurry up!” she yelled as she folded her arms in impatience.
~
Buffy closed her eyes in disgust. She felt cheap. Cordelia had made her put on loads of make-up, especially to cover up the nasty bruise on her face from Darla’s punch. She felt Cordelia’s grip tighten around her arm and her eyes shot open as she was being pulled out of the room.
“W-where are we going?” Buffy said, slightly panicked.
“Training for Dummies 101,” Cordelia replied, still looking ahead as she pulled Buffy down the hallway.
Buffy halted and resisted her pull, “What?! What training??” She was in outright panic as a thought flitted through her mind. ‘Dear God, please don’t let it be that kind of training,’ she inwardly begged. The thought of a nasty group of men taking their turn at her made her want to keel over. If her shame and disgust was pushed that far, she’d rather just end it.
“You’re going to learn how to fight,” Cordelia replied.
Buffy was shocked. Her mind did a double take. “I’m going to learn how to fight?” she asked disbelievingly, mouth gaping open. ‘Like fight fight? Would they be stupid enough to teach a captive to fight?’
Cordelia let her cold demeanor slip for a second, and she gave Buffy a mischievous smile. “It’s the best part. You’re going to learn how to kick some ass.”
Cordelia resumed her task of dragging her down the hall, not giving her a chance to ask more. Buffy didn’t really understand it yet. Confused thoughts whirled around in her mind, but something had sparked at those words. Hope.
~
Cordelia dragged them down a flight of stairs that Buffy had never even noticed. A chill went through her as she thought about the fact that they were going even deeper underground. Just how far did this place go? She realized that she didn’t even know where they were at all.
“Where are we?” Buffy asked hesitantly, referring to their destination.
“The training room is just down here. It’s where everyone comes together to fight and train.”
She could hear the loud jeers and chants inside, and the image of Angelus and Spike fighting flashed through her mind. Suddenly, the idea of training didn’t sound so great anymore. Cordelia opened the door, and the shouts became louder. With a worried brow and a rapidly beating heart, she reluctantly let Cordelia pull her in. She observed the group of people standing in a circle around two guys.
“Are you kidding me, sunshine?” Lorne taunted as he circled Doyle. “That all you got?”
Doyle gave him a tight glare before lunging forward, jumping up slightly, and smashing his fist down onto Lorne’s jaw. Lorne’s head snapped back abruptly from the harsh blow, and people on Angelus’ side taunted at their upper hand.
Buffy and Cordelia went unnoticed, since everyone was so wrapped up in the fight, except for a pair of blue eyes, standing far off to the side of the large gym-like room. He took in her appearance - her black leather pants were skin tight. The black plunging tank gave him a nice view of her breasts, pushed up involuntarily by the constraining leather. His gaze wandered up her body, and he felt familiar feelings of lust. His eyes settled on her face, and his brow creased in surprise. Her eyes were lined with black, her hair slicked with gel into straight strands, her glossy-red lips glistened. She looked like a completely different person, until he saw her cringe at a deafening crack of a bone. The look of vulnerability in her eyes was still there.
Buffy cringed as the two men’s fists seem to crack against the other’s skin. It was a brutal display, just like yesterday, and there was no holding back. She prayed that this wasn’t the ‘training’ part she had to endure.
Standing in the front row of the crowd in the circle, Eve crossed her arms and yelled with an annoyed look, “Oh c’mon, this is so boring! Bleed, damn it!”
Next to her, Lindsay scoffed. “Sometimes I forget how lady-like you are,” he said with sarcastic smile. Eve looked up at him with a coy smirk. Across the circle, Darla was glaring involuntarily at the two of them, her foot mindlessly tapping rapidly.
“Down, girl,” Faith joked to the blonde. Darla’s lips tightened into a line as she turned away to focus back on the match.
Buffy was watching the match, until she realized Cordelia no longer had a hold on her. She seemed to have a very concerned look on her face, and Buffy wondered for whom, considering the brunette had just recently changed sides.
Buffy inched her way back, trying to remain discrete and unnoticed.
Her heart pounded loudly. They were right in front of her – at any moment they could turn around, but they seemed oblivious – enthralled - so she took her chances. Taking another tentative step back, she turned on her heels to run, but smacked right into a hard chest.
It was him. She started thrashing and yelling as his grip came to tighten around her arms. “Let me go!” she yelled uselessly. When she tried to kick him, he grabbed her thigh in a bruising grip and squeezed until he knew there would be finger marks, letting her know how much he could make it hurt. She cried out in pain, and he leaned into her ear to whisper, “I don’t like it when people run from me.”
She shut her eyes, trying to imagine him away. And then she noticed that the sounds had stopped. Behind her, they had stopped fighting. Spike looked up to see they had all halted to observe them, Lorne and Doyle panting as they wiped away their own blood. Spike was practically holding Buffy up, keeping her from collapsing, and he quickly and roughly shoved her into Illyria, who had already approached them.
“Start training!” Spike yelled to his crew, and Angelus’ side looked to Angelus, who was off to the side, in question.
He agreed, saying, “I was getting bored anyway.” His people disbursed around the room to gather their things.
Illyria was holding Buffy, wrenching her arms behind her back in a tight grip. Spike focused back on her, stalking up to her with a predatory look. He knew they were watching.
“So, luv, how far did you get?” Spike asked, putting on an amused look as he hooked his fingers under her chin and lifted it. She looked up at him defiantly and didn’t answer, merely glared at him, refusing to waver under his gaze. He stared at her intensely, almost challenging her. Then, for a split second, a brief indescribable expression flickered as his eyes discovered the puffy part of her cheek, a dull brown color that stood out from the rest of her skin. As quickly as the look came, it was gone.
“She got as far as the warehouse,” Darla replied with a smile, walking up to them.
Spike smirked, “Not very far then.”
“Not far away enough from you, apparently,” Angelus spoke up, as he approached Spike with an amused look. “Some things never change, do they?”
Spike’s expression darkened as he glared at Angelus. Buffy wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but the look and demeanor that came over Spike actually scared her, and her defiant façade faltered. Spike put on a challenging and arrogant smirk, “What’s the matter? Feelin’ like a defeated git?”
“Considering I’m still 4 for 3, you shouldn’t be so cocky,” Angelus replied with a smile of his own. “Or maybe, if you had been a little more cocky, your little Barbie wouldn’t have tried to run away.”
Cordelia cast a glance in Buffy’s direction, wanting to see her reaction to the exchange, and to send her a warning look. Buffy looked increasingly panicked. Her heart was beating rapidly, and the tension in the air was thick. In the corner of her eye, she saw Cordelia looking at her, and she glanced back to see a warning look that she didn’t quite understand.
Spike had a tight smile, making his cheekbones look more prominent. Feeling all eyes in the room on him, he smirked and retorted, "Ever consider, Angelus, that I was a little TOO cocky? It's a lot for any woman to adjust to. Sometimes scares 'em off...of course, you never had that problem...did you?"* He lifted his brow.
“You’re full of it, Spike. And one day, it’s going to bite you in the ass,” Angelus replied snidely.
“As long as you’re no where near my ass.”
Angelus rolled his eyes and turned to leave. “Let’s go!” His side of the gang began to gather their things and follow him out, not without sending scowls to Spike’s side.
“Get back to training!” Spike roared angrily to the rest. He stalked over to Buffy, whose arms were being held behind her back by Illyria. He shot her an angry glare and yanked her by the arm, dragging her over to the other side of the room. His tight grip on her arm made her cry out once in pain and she stumbled to keep up with his rapid pace. He flung her over to the thin mats and she landed with her palms holding her up.
“Harmony!” Cordelia ordered, assuming Buffy’s training partner would be the least experienced.
“No. Illyria can train her,” Spike answered in a cold voice.
Cordelia looked surprised and Harmony stopped in her steps.
Illyria gave Spike a slightly raised brow, questioning his choice. “She can’t handle it, not even if I go easy on her.”
“Do it. That’s what training is for, right?” His sarcastic tone was matched with an unwavering expression and he ignored the look of pure dread on Buffy’s face.
Buffy understood Cordelia’s warning now. She had made him look bad, and that meant he was going to make it tough for her. She struggled with what to say, not wanting to resort to pleading, “I-I…”
“Oh, don’t worry, Princess,” he said in a patronizing voice, and then his face hardened, “We’ll teach you.”
“Get up,” Illyria’s unfeeling voice ordered. Buffy got up on shaky legs, heart pounding loudly as Illyria stared at her with ice blue eyes and circled her.
Spike stood slightly off to the side, arms crossed and wearing an amused grin. “Lesson the first: When you fight, there’s no cat fighting allowed. Throw a punch.”
Buffy blinked and looked hesitant, but Spike gave her an intense look, “Unless you want Illyria to start.”
Buffy took a deep breath before she balled her hand into a fist and tried to smash it toward Illyria’s face as hard as she could. Illyria dodged without effort and grabbed Buffy’s arm, twisting it around so that Buffy’s back was facing her front, causing her to cry out again. Illyria shoved her forward roughly, and she fell harshly to the thin mat which felt like it might as well have been the cold cement floor. The crowd laughed at the pitiful attempt.
Spike didn’t laugh along with them, but remained serious. “Get up.” He walked over to her, and saw the frustrated and embarrassed tears welling up in her eyes, and heard the slight whimper. He yanked her up by the arm and glared. “Lesson the second: you never give up.” He let her go and stepped back, as she glared at him with contempt.
He was right about something. You never give up. Feeling a little rush of adrenaline run through her, she straightened herself to face Illyria. If she was going down, she was going down trying.
“Lunge at her,” Spike said to Buffy. “Dodge whatever you can.”
Buffy focused her energy, and clenched her fists tightly. She tried to funnel all of her anger at him towards Illyria. She ran forward and let loose, sending out a flurry of punches, as hard as she could. Illyria easily dodged and blocked all of them, and then let one punch of her own.
Buffy’s head snapped back from the force and she screamed, falling to the floor again.
He heard the sound of Illyria’s fist connecting with Buffy’s face, and inwardly winced. On the outside, he remained his cocky self. “Oi! Watch the face! I’m the one that has to look at her at night!” Spike exclaimed comically, and then grinned as the gang laughed.
Buffy glared at him as she clutched her cheek, wishing she could punch his lights out. Buffy struggled to her feet, pain still shooting through her face. She was breathing heavily, eyes stormy with rage and desperation.
“You’re not putting your body into it,” Darla commented with an amused smile and her arms crossed.
“You have no power behind your throws,” Illyria stated.
“I haven’t had years of training,” Buffy snapped back. The others laughed at the contempt in her voice. She looked completely out of her element, and even the leather outfit and make-up couldn’t fool anyone.
“Awww, she’s like a little angry cheerleader,” Faith patronized.
Buffy’s anger and frustration only grew and she glared at the brunette. And then an idea came to mind. Looking up, she wondered if she could pull off a stupid move like that. She would probably fail and look like an idiot, but the other option was to keep getting beat up anyway.
She ran forward at full speed and jumped into the air, bringing her right leg up into a swift kick, hoping it would hit Illyria before she could block. The crowd looked surprised at her sudden move, but Illyria grabbed Buffy’s legs and flipped her up, sending her up into the air and landing with a cruel ‘thump!’ onto the thin mat. Buffy screamed as the pain shot through her back.
Spike looked slightly baffled by her attempt and his brows furrowed as she fell to the ground viciously.
Illyria said to Buffy’s prone form, “Better, but not nearly good enough.”
“Alright, that’s enough for today,” Spike said, his expression back to emotionless. “Back to your own routines.” People began to disburse their training partners, and Spike walked up to Cordelia, who was approaching Buffy. She was lying on the floor with her eyes closed in pain and her hand clutching her back.
Even though Cordelia had a hunch, she gave Spike a curious look. “Why didn’t you let her train with Harmony?”
Spike didn’t answer her question, but merely said, “Get her some ice and bring her to my room later.” He glanced at Buffy on the ground one last time, before he turned and walked away.
~
Buffy was lying stomach down on her bed, back bare and face turned to the side. To her surprise, her back hadn’t bruised, but it sure hurt like hell. She had another bruise on her face which was now swollen from all the abuse, and marks where Spike had gripped her thigh.
Cordelia came into the room, bringing a new ice pack. Without much sympathy in her voice, she asked, “How is your back feeling?”
“Like I fell onto a cold cement floor,” Buffy answered sarcastically.
“Well actually, you got flipped, but whatever you prefer,” she moved to take the melted ice pack off of Buffy’s back, and put the new one on, causing her to flinch at the coldness.
After the cold became soothing to the pain, Buffy said quietly, “Is this what I should expect everyday?”
“Pretty much,” she answered. “It could be worse.”
Buffy laughed bitterly, “How?”
Cordelia’s voice was serious, “Trust me. It could definitely be worse.”
Buffy frowned, trying to search Cordelia’s eyes for the implied meaning behind her words, and then she remembered that the same thing had probably happened to her…except with Angelus instead of Spike. Buffy didn’t answer, not really knowing what to say.
“Anyway,” Cordelia clapped her hands together, and her energetically snarky demeanor was back. “If you’re done bitching about your back, I’ll be on my way to more important matters.”
She turned to leave but stopped, forgetting something. “Oh yea, I got you some pills.”
Buffy furrowed her brows, “What kind of pills?”
“Some pain killers for your back, and some birth control pills,” she replied, throwing them onto the bed beside Buffy.
Her stomach churned at the thought behind the gesture, and a bitter look took over her expression. “Gee, thanks,” she said sarcastically.
“Don’t thank me, thank Spike.” With that, she was out the door before Buffy could react.
Anger bubbled up inside her – not only had she been physically torn down, in more ways than one, she had been humiliated and objectified. She hated that they were able – that he was able – to make her feel this much – angry, hurt, shame. The numbness was easier, and she wanted it back.
Buffy closed her eyes, and tried not to think about what would happen later when it came time to be taken to Spike.
~*~*~*~
A/N: I’m well aware of how much of an ASS Spike is right now (GANG leader).
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I thank the people who are sticking around/waiting impatiently or patiently for my updates – sorry for the long waits! Ashlee gets credit for Spike’s line denoted by *
Breakdown so far: Spike’s side = Illyria, Wesley, Darla, Lorne, Gunn, Harmony, Faith, Cordelia, and Buffy. Angel’s side = Drusilla, Lindsay, Riley, Connor, Lilah, Eve, Doyle. (10-8 after Angelus’ current loss)
Breakdown so far: Spike’s side = Illyria, Wesley, Darla, Lorne, Gunn, Harmony, Faith, Cordelia, and Buffy. Angel’s side = Drusilla, Lindsay, Riley, Connor, Lilah, Eve, Doyle. (10-8 after Angelus’ current loss)