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Author's Chapter Notes:
Ok so the lovely people over at Logo were playing an awful lot of Buffy and I watched all 5 episodes. So Intervention was played and all was lost.
Part 1

I hang painfully in the room I’m being held prisoner in. My arms are starting to hurt from being chained above my head but I don’t dare show weakness. I have a burning hole in my chest and various other cuts along my body.

The blond freak is walking towards me again. Suddenly she stops, her hands are on her head and she’s yelling for the voices to stop. I’m scared but I refuse to show it.

I’m Spike, William the Bloody for christ’s sake. I take no shit and give it back twice as hard. Weakness is not an option for me.

Torture is not something new to me. Angelus is still the reigning king in that area. He taught me more about the subject than I care to admit. Bleeding git.

She’s asking me who the key is and getting angrier by the second because I answer her with smartass comments. No way in hell am I giving up Dawn. Not to anyone and certainly not to this “God.”

I tell her the key is Bob Barker. Laughable? Sure. Does it make her even crazier? Abso-fucking-lutely. My demon laughs at the look of pure rage on her face.

My body hurts like everything is on fire and my eyes are almost completely swollen shut. There is a shard of glass in my cheek and still I won’t give her what she wants. I still goad and laugh at Glory.

I taunt her telling her she is the God of bad home perms and that the slayer is going to kick her lop-sided ass. Her eyes flash red and she stomps towards me. She’s so easy to rile up, I giggle to myself even as I brace for her fury.

I’d rather die than get the Niblet hurt.

I’d rather die than hurt Buffy...my Slayer.

Glory is getting more pissed at me and still I stand on my own two feet and insult her.

The hit comes before I realize it and I’m sailing through the air, my back slamming through the wooden door and me on the floor against the wall. I’m lucky that none of the wood pierced anything interesting and with a groan I’m up and making my way down the hall. I get to elevator as the doors close. I frantically pry them open and shove my brutalized form through, landing with a groan of anguish on the top of the moving elevator.

I open the hatch and fling my body in the actual elevator car. I can hear Glory’s minions racing down the stairs to catch me. They seem far away but I know the painstakingly close.

All I want to do is crawl into the sewers and tend to my wounds but I know that won’t happen. I have to fight. With strength that I don’t realize my battered body still has I manage to stand and smirk as the doors open.

The minions are there already and are advancing.

“Slayer!”

It’s not til I hear the minions yelling out that I slump against the wall. Blond hair flying she is fighting, minions being flung about.

My savior is here.


Part 2

I’m drifting in and out of consciousness as Giles and Xander carry me to my crypt. I feel like I’m on a cloud ... floating along. Walking through the smelly sewers so I don’t burn. I don’t even have the strength to jeer at them or threaten them.

They didn’t complain when they were told to take me home. Not a sigh ... not a sharp retort. They are holding me carefully, afraid to cause more damage to my already abused body. That strikes me as a little odd but I ignore it.

I can hear them talking, only getting snippets of their conversation before the blackness takes me again.

“I don’ t think he told her.”

“He is so thrashed.”

“She tortured him.”

“And still he didn’t give her up.”

“Remarkable.”

“Unbelievable.”

I can almost hear Giles cleaning his glasses. Bloody Englishman.

I’m laid out on my sarcophagus and I can feel their eyes on me. Emotions rolling off the men in waves. I don’t acknowledge it, I’m too hurt to think about anything else. I must have passed out again because the next thing I know is the door creaking open and Buffy is there.

Well the bot anyways.

I’m kinda shocked she is here. I know everyone saw her, that the bot spoke with them. And they aren’t stupid...they know why I had her built.

If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with, right? Or have a life-like robot replica made. God I want to smirk and it bloody hurts so much. I stop trying, it’s just useless.

I didn’t think for a second that they would return her to me. I can almost hear the obscene things the slayer has to say about my toy. I can almost taste her anger ... feel her disappointment.

The bot's bouncing towards me, a smile on her face.

I want to cringe at the excitement and the love on her face and in her voice.

“Spike! You’re covered in sexy wounds.”

“Yeah, “I moan. “I feel real sexy.”

I pull myself up into a sitting position. It’s difficult but I try not to show how much pain I am in. The bot is asking me why I let Glory hurt me. My brain is a jumble of different things to say.

Why did I?

Because I love Buffy.

Because I love Dawn.

Because I’d rather Glory kill me than hurt either of them. My life... my unlife is expendable but theirs... no they mean more to me than that.

Buffy means more.

I’d rather me hurt or dead than ever cause Buffy to feel pain.

I don't realize I've said this all out loud when I hear her feet shuffling.

The bot is moving towards me and plants a soft kiss against my bruised lips.

I lean into it, craving the comfort, needing it desperately when I notice something is different.

Something is off.

It’s not the bot, it’s Buffy.


Chapter End Notes:
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