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Recently, Spike had started to think that the old clock on the mantel in Ethan’s den was his enemy. The relentless tick tock of the clock seemed to mock him. Time was passing him by and he was uselessly drinking away his days.

For the past few days something had been eating away at his gut. It was a feeling that he couldn’t comprehend because it wasn’t something he had to confront a lot. He knew that it wasn’t guilt…exactly. But it felt a little like guilt.

He’d only ever really felt this way once before when he found his…found her in the bathtub that day…cold and clammy.

God, that was a memory he needed to erase.

Spike took another swig from the bottle, gulping down the dregs before tossing it onto the ground. He slipped down onto the couch and fell back with a hefty sigh.

No matter how much he drank, he couldn’t seem to get his brain to stop racing in overdrive. It was like being tormented with no way out.

The image of a blonde girl who had used that exact phrase to him flashed in front of his eyes and he screwed them tightly shut.

Buffy was the last person he wanted to think about right now.

He’d seen the fear and sadness in her eyes when she’d gotten dragged away by his father’s goons and no matter how often he tried to erase it, it seemed emblazoned on his psyche. The most worrying thing was that instead of easing, the pain of that memory seemed to intensify with every passing day. It was actually surpassing his thoughts about Drusilla.

She looked like a lamb being taken to the slaughter. That’s exactly what she was in reality. He was pretty sure that by the time Gwen had finished with her, she would be unrecognizable from the spunky, sassy teenager he’d spent a very strange night with. If his father had been telling the truth about her ‘progress’ at the brothel then it was very possible she was already an animated shell of her former self.

Realizing that he was out of booze, he growled quietly and pulled himself to his feet. He couldn’t actually believe that he’d already managed to empty the liquor cabinet in only a few days. Maybe he was drinking more than he realized.

Trying to keep himself steady he staggered out of the room heading for the basement where he kept a virtually unlimited supply of alcohol.

Spike allowed himself a small nostalgic smile as he recalled some of the crazy evenings the supply in that room had fuelled during his teenage years. They had actually been some of his only good memories of growing up. He let himself indulgently recall the time he and Drusilla fucked on a crate of imported malt whiskey before proceeding to drink half of its contents.

Good times.

He was padding along the first floor corridor and heading for the basement steps when a high pitched whine stopped him in his tracks. For a moment he thought his might have imagined it but when it was followed by a baritone moan he knew exactly what it was.

There was no way that Spike Rayne wouldn’t recognize the distinctive sounds of sex, not with all the experience he’d had of it. He realized it was coming from one of the unused rooms on that floor.

A small smile played on his face as he wondered who it was. There weren’t many girls around the mansion, so he figured it was probably one of Gwen’s girls. Some of Ethan’s minions were gifted a girl or two from time to time when his father was feeling particularly generous.

Shuffling forward, he felt compelled to investigate a little more. Not to mention he hadn’t gotten his dick wet in a while and the loud pleasured moans were making not so Little Spike stand to attention.

And wasn’t it a stroke of luck that there was a small crack of light where the door wasn’t totally shut? Making sure that he was still concealed in the shadows of the hallway, Spike peeked through the space.

He couldn’t deny that deep down he had a perverted side and if people were stupid enough to leave their door open when they were making whoopee, then Spike wasn’t going to miss the chance to get a free show.

However, what he saw wasn’t something he could ever have anticipated. It was abhorrent and horrific and the moment his eyes caught sight of it, he truly wanted to die.

His breath hitched in his chest as the image fully penetrated his paralyzed brain.

Ethan and Drusilla. Together.

He wanted to vomit or kill someone. Maybe both at the same time. His heart was in his stomach and his chest felt like it was filled with concrete.

This wasn’t right! It couldn’t be Drusilla. She was in Ireland with Angelus as far as he knew. He screwed his eyes firmly shut and shook his head before prizing them open and taking another look. Unfortunately the image was exactly the same. He would recognize his ex-lover anywhere so he knew he wasn’t mistaken.

Drusilla was on her knees like a bitch on the cold hard ground letting Ethan pound into her. She writhed and howled under his father’s ministrations.

Her moans were so familiar to him.

Too familiar.

How many times had he made her moan like that himself?

Ethan pulled out of Drusilla, his hard cock jutting upward and bobbing against his stomach. Spike felt sick to his very stomach as he watch Drusilla spin around and take it into her mouth, big eyes peering up at Ethan for some kind of compliment.

“Yeah,” moaned Ethan. “Suck it, you little bitch.”

She eagerly complied with his commands. But that clearly wasn’t enough for Ethan. He wanted more. Grabbing her by the back of her head, he held her in place as he thrust his dick into her throat, ignoring her gags.

Before he came, he pulled out of her throat and shoved her roughly backward. Her tiny naked breasts jiggled with the sudden movement and she giggled and sighed.

Spike knew he should just walk away but something kept him frozen to the spot. He briefly wondered if he’d died and watching this for eternity was his hellish punishment. He just didn’t understand what he was seeing. His father was fucking the only woman he’d ever loved.

How could he possibly do that to him?

For a second he considered grabbing a shotgun and killing them both. He could blow their heads off and bathe in their blood. Or even better, he could kill his father and take Drusilla back to be his own.

Of course that wouldn’t work. Because she would just cheat on him again.

He frowned. Didn’t she tell him that she was leaving him for Angelus? Was it a lie or was she fucking his father and his cousin?

While Spike had been lost in his thoughts, Ethan had fully secured Drusilla to the piping behind her. Her arms were securely cuffed and her legs were spread open and tied to some metal poles opposite her.

She looked so vulnerable that, in spite of his anger, Spike felt compelled to rush in and save her.

Surely if he did that then he would be her hero?

Except that deep down he knew he wouldn’t. Drusilla was a masochist. She loved the pain and most of the time she got off on it. That was one of the reasons why she had always been so enamored with Angelus.

Angelus was just as much of a sadist as Ethan was.

In truth Spike didn’t want to watch her being so violently abused. He wanted to close his eyes as Ethan brought a leather strap down on her porcelain skin, raising angry red welts. He wanted to look away from the gruesome spectacle unfolding on the other side of the door.

But he couldn’t. So for what seemed like an eternity he watched the horror of the woman he loved being abused by the man who spawned him.

After several minutes, Drusilla climaxed violently as the final stroke of the belt smacked sharply against her folds.

Finally Spike was able to look away. It was over. But inside he felt like he was over. Everything he believed in had died in that moment.

The impulsive part of Spike wanted to rush in there and pound Ethan’s face into hamburger meat. However a voice, one that actually sounded strangely like a hybrid of his mother and…Buffy, warned him that would get him nowhere.

Ethan wasn’t afraid of a little violence. In fact he often relished a fight, usually ensuring by some underhanded means that his opponent would lose. And Spike knew that with all Ethan’s meatheads littering the mansion there was no way he could take him.

No, what Spike really needed was a good plan to wreak revenge on his father.

But first he needed to get drunker than he’d ever been before.

After raiding Ethan’s alcohol stash in the basement, Spike headed back upstairs to sit alone in the room that used to be his bedroom. It was strange being in there now. After the peculiar night he spent in there with Buffy, the room was filled with memories of the petite blonde now.

A sad smile flickered over his face as he saw her golden button sitting on the dresser. It looked so lonely.

Almost as lonely as he was.

Although he didn’t have many memories of the blonde, the ones he did have had superseded his old memories of the times he played in there with Drusilla throughout his adolescence.

And that was a huge part of what was eating away at him right now.

It wasn’t just that Drusilla had dumped him and betrayed him. No, that was only half of the problem. The worst part was that the brunette beauty had defined his adolescence and early adulthood and without her he didn’t even know how to be a man.

He didn’t know who he was anymore.

Maybe that was why he couldn’t stop thinking about Buffy. He identified with the young girl to some extent. They were both ruined souls lost adrift on a sea of pain and loneliness.

It could also be because she was the polar opposite of his cheating bitch ex-girlfriend.

Spike smelled her before he saw her. The smell of animalic musk and crushed red roses filled the air as she stood in the doorway, reminding him of their times together.

Spike wasn’t sure those memories were so great anymore now that they were tainted with the image of his father fucking her.

Her long sheer white gown gave her a ghostlike quality and even the sight of her sent a shiver down his spine.

“What do you want, Dru?” he asked sharply, not even bothering to look up from his drink.

She laughed, her giggles tinkling like chimes on the wind. “I saw you, Spike. Daddy didn’t see you though. Tut tut, he’d be so cross if he knew you were watching. Or maybe he’d like it!”

“He’d only like it if it made me suffer,” muttered Spike, sparking up a cigarette. The burn felt good in his chest and he exhaled the smoke heavily, tasting its bitterness on his tongue.

“What a naughty boy,” Drusilla sing-songed, gliding into the room like a fallen angel. “Did you enjoy the show, my Spike?”

“Just get the bloody hell out of here,” he warned her, not wanting to look at her face. He knew that if he looked at her, he’d either forgive her or beat her to a bloody pulp and right now he didn’t have the energy for either of those things.

“I don’t want to leave my sweet prince when he’s angry at me,” Drusilla pouted.

“Not yours though anymore, am I? Just like you were never mine.” He gulped down several mouthfuls of whiskey from the half empty bottle. “You belong to someone else, don’t you, pet? Seems like you’d rather shag my bloody father than stay with me.”

“I have to take my pleasures.”

“I thought that overly foreheaded ponce, Angelus, was doing that for you.”

Drusilla giggled and tugged at her long skirt. She looked so childlike and yet so darkly sinister. It was a very strange combination. “Yes, my Daddy has always been my very first love. He doesn’t mind a broken dolly. He likes to play with his Dark Princess quite often. But your daddy made me his princess as well a long time ago, silly boy. I like it best when they share me.” Her eyes glazed as her mind was filled with memories of her skinny body sandwiched between the two men, ivory skin glistening with sweat.

She believed they’d trained her to be a good little slut for them so she let them take her any way they pleased.

“So you’ve been shagging my father all this time?” Spike asked and her eyes whipped back to his face. “All this bloody time?”

Drusilla let out a whine that might have been a laugh or a moan. He couldn’t tell which. “Ethan’s a bad dog, Spike.” She clasped her crotch with bony fingers and began to rub herself through the thin material of her gown. “I need him because he gives me what I need. Angelus is so often busy with Mummy and you…well you can’t do that for me.”

Spike lifted his downcast eyes to her sly face. She was smirking at him as if she’d said something smart. Rage rose up in him and the bottle went flying out of his hand, hitting the wall with a loud crash. Drusilla didn’t flinch as they were sprayed with glass and booze. Instead she just laughed, moaning as her fingers continued to work on her most intimate area.

Spike ignored her lewd behavior, too irate and disgusted to be remotely turned on by her actions. “Why do you want them and not me, love? I would have been anything that you needed,” he swore. “I would have changed for you if that’s what you needed. If you wanted me to be badder then I would have done it. For you, Dru.”

“Silly William, destined for the sunshine,” Drusilla cackled. Spike winced at the use of his real name. Even though it was the name that his mother had given to him, he hated it. “It doesn’t matter what you do. Do you really think I’d ever choose you over Ethan or Angelus?”

“I thought we were in love.”

“Maybe you were.” Drusilla released her crotch and flung her arms out twirling wildly to music that only she could hear.

“And you…you didn’t love me? That’s a soddin’ lie!”

“It’s not a lie, William.” Drusilla stopped her movement abruptly, their face only inches apart. He could smell the whiskey on her breath when she chuckled. “Don’t you see? I never loved you. You were just my little toy. Both our daddies are more fun than you could ever be.”

He raised furious eyes to her. “You think shagging that bleeding wanker is more fun than letting me love you?”

Drusilla snickered. “Spike!” she whined. “You shouldn’t speak in such a mean way about your Daddy.”

“I’ll speak about the git in whatever way I bloody well want. Now answer the buggering question.”

“Don’t be cross at me.” Drusilla pouted like small child, her mischievously twinkling eyes belying the regret tinting her voice. “I was never yours. Angelus is my maker and Ethan is my keeper. You’re…nothing. Just a silly toy with delusions of grandeur.”

“But…”

“They stole my innocence like a thief in the night. Creep, creep, creep through the beautiful meadows. Pick, pick, pick the pretty flowers. And I’m glad! Do you hear me?”

“I hear you but I don’t understand you. You’re not making a soddin’ lick of sense, woman! Why can’t you give me what I gave to you? Why…why couldn’t you love me?” Tears were falling freely down his face now but Drusilla’s own expression hardened at the sight.

“I didn’t want to give you anything. I rescued you from a life of mediocrity. Do you remember what you were before I made you mine, William?” Her eyes glinted with annoyance. She truly believed the boy should learn his place. Maybe a whipping from his father would teach him a good lesson.

“I remember what I was but I took care of you,” he mumbled. “I gave you my soul!”

She cackled, throwing her head back. “Your soul is as worthless as you are.”

Her face was contorted into an expression that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but insanity. The woman had always been a little unhinged, but right now Spike was convinced she’d lost the plot.

Once upon a time that would have made him want to care for her, take her into his arms and show her how much he loved her. Her carefully chosen cruel jibes wouldn’t have made a difference to him. He would have overlooked them and wrapped her in his embrace until the episode passed them by.

But not now.

He was done with being Drusilla’s whipping boy. The woman had held his heart in the palm of his hand and all she’d done was squeezed it until the delicate organ shattered into jagged shards. He wanted her out of his life.

“Get out!” he hissed. “Get out now and I won’t kill you.”

Drusilla giggled. “You could never kill me, Spike. You don’t have it in you. You’re too…good.” Drusilla spit out the last word as if it was poison. She walked over to him, her body swaying hypnotically as she moved. “You’ll never live up to Ethan. There’s so much goodness in you, buried in your big red heart, and it disgusts me.”

“Shut up!” growled Spike, holding his head between his hands as a barrage of thoughts battered his consciousness. “I’m the Big Bad!”

“You’re not even a little bad, Spike,” laughed Drusilla, the derision extremely evident in her voice. “You’re pathetic. You’ll never hold a candle to your father, my darling. But don’t worry. It’s not so bad always being second best.”

He roared and slammed his hand into the fragile plaster of the wall, embedding his fist deeply inside. In actual fact he wished that he could do the same to Ethan’s and Drusilla’s faces.

Drusilla laughed loudly as she watched him pull his bleeding hand to his chest, cradling the appendage tenderly.

“You’re so soft,” she commented. “Your Daddy has never been that soft, Spike.”

“Shut up,” he hissed.

“Oh, I intend to. I’m leaving now and I won’t be back.” She paused and flashed him a lopsided smile. “Well, I won’t be back to see you anyway. My Ethan is waiting for me and I want to have some fun with him for a while.” She clamped her palms over her small breasts. “I want to feel him inside me. Mmm, how good he feels, flesh to flesh, skin to skin.”

Spike wanted to shut his ears to the taunts but he couldn’t. He felt vulnerable and open being forced to be subjected to this.

A sudden question flashed through his mind.

Was this the way Buffy had felt when he tried to…force himself on her? Had she felt like she was at the whim and mercy of someone else in the same way he felt that he was at Drusilla’s mercy?

The very thought made him shudder with genuine guilt and regret, both of which had been astoundingly unfamiliar emotions to the Brit until a little blonde pixie had worked her way into his mind.

Drusilla’s swaying form yanked him out of his musings and back to the cold harshness of reality. “Goodbye, my William.”

His lips couldn’t form the words to bid her goodbye. Not that he wished her anything good, anyway. She was a nasty cheating bitch. They say love is akin to hate but it was amazing how fast love could twist itself into hatred.

And he felt it twisting right there in his chest.

Even through the red haze of his fury Spike knew that wasn’t Drusilla who should shoulder the blame alone for her indiscretions. He knew from snippets of lucid conversation that he’d shared with Drusilla over the years, that her childhood had been peppered with abuse, mostly from her step-father, Angelus, and it had driven her to the brink of insanity.

Angelus was a distant cousin of Spike’s and one of Ireland’s most notorious sex traders. He took his sadistic side from the Rayne legacy and the dark haired pimp enjoyed it to the very maximum. His relationship with Drusilla’s mother, Darla, had given him access to the young girl. In time she’d become a broken mess.

But Spike had loved her anyway.

Spike always believed that he had enough inside of him to repair the woman someday. He truly thought that he could rebuild her, but now he knew that was just a pathetic daydream and it would never come to pass.

Instead of letting him help her, she’d clearly preferred to turn to someone else.

Ethan.

As a father, Ethan should have treated his son well, tried to be a good person. And instead his father enjoyed tormenting everyone including his son. He’d done one of the worst things that one man can do to another. In fact, to Spike there was no greater betrayal than what Ethan had done to him.

It was hard to believe that the affair had been going on all this time. But it made the pieces fall into place now. His mind drifted back to all the times that Drusilla had gone missing for days. Most times Spike assumed that she’d been with Angelus but sometimes the other man denied having seen her. Spike assumed he was lying but…well everything fit now. She’d been with Ethan. This thing must have been going on for years.

Ironic as Ethan never seemed to care for the girl at all.

The fact that it was Ethan made everything hurt a little more though. It was like rubbing salt into an already gaping wound.

Angelus had always maintained some kind of hold over Drusilla and although it pained him Spike had come to accept that. Her stepfather ruined her and she belonged to the other man in her twisted mind. He could twist her around his fingers like a piece of string and although it hurt Spike he’d come to accept it. It didn’t make the fact that he’d walked in on the pair of them in bed together any easier to stomach. The image of the dark haired oaf rocking on top of his girl was emblazoned on his brain.

But it still didn’t sting with betrayal in the same way that seeing Drusilla with his father had done.

While he might not be able to fathom it, it was obvious that Angelus would always own a large part of Drusilla’s heart and Spike didn’t expect the other man to relinquish it. It wasn’t as if the dark haired trader had any real loyalty to Spike that would make him want to do such a selfless act.

Not like a father was supposed to.

A parent’s love and loyalty toward their child was supposed to be second to none.

And yet…apparently things didn’t work that way in the Rayne universe.

He wasn’t going to let this pass him by without getting retribution. The younger Rayne was determined to bring down his father. But for once he would bide his time.

Hadn’t the older Rayne always instilled in him that revenge was best when served cold?

But doing alone would be tricky. Spike knew he needed help of some kind if he was going to be successful in toppling his father from his malevolent pedestal. It wouldn’t be difficult to find someone to help him. After all, his father had collected his fair share of enemies over the years.

In fact he was spoiled with choice as to who he should choose.

An image flashed into his brain of a spunky little blonde who would enjoy revenge on Ethan just as much as he would. He recalled the look in her eyes when Ethan ordered her to be taken away to Gwendolyn’s brothel and that only cemented his resolution that she would assist him.

He couldn’t exactly be friends with a perky little cheerleader like Buffy, but they had a common enemy now. The enemy of my enemy and all that… And if she could help him bring down Ethan, which he didn’t doubt that a sassy, resourceful young girl like her could accomplish, then he needed her.

He didn’t even stop to question any other ulterior motives that he might have had. And he definitely would never admit that half the reason he wanted to let Buffy in on his plans was because he wanted to free her from that horrible brothel.

The only worry in getting her out was that he didn’t know what kind of state he would find her in when he actually got there. She’d been gone for almost a whole week and in a place like that a week might as well have been a lifetime.

But he would worry about that later, once he had her back.

It was time to go get the girl.





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