Victims of Fate by ya_lublyu_tebya

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Chapter 4: Nightmare

The mansion was swathed in darkness and silence as she went in, listening intently, expecting to hear that keening again. But Spike was silent for now and she took it as a blessing, hoping that he had been able to sleep. She went through to the large open living room and placed the bags of blood down on the table, giving herself time to prepare to face the vampires again.

Suddenly, a figure moved in the darkness though and she jumped back, startled, expecting Drusilla but finding Angel instead.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said softly.

“Try not to sneak up on me then,” she answered just as softly, smiling at him.

She so wanted to be angry but now, seeing him, her heart and her body simply reacted for her, smiling and singing for joy with his nearness.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, “I brought blood for you both.”

“I’m fine.”

She smiled and he moved further into the room, seemingly lost in thought.

“How’s Spike?” she asked carefully and he frowned, turning towards her and unconsciously rubbing his arm.

“Not much better. I left him alone.”

“You… what? Why?”

“He lashed out at me as soon as you left,” he explained softly.

“Oh,” she got out, “I guess… maybe it’s because you’re his family and… I don’t know. Bad reminder or something.”

“Maybe.”



They fell silent and she sought for something to say, but soon gave up. There were still lots of things they needed to talk about, but she just wasn’t ready to do it yet. She sighed and grabbed one of the bags from the table.

“I should check on Spike. Bring him some blood.”

“Don’t!” Angel blurted out and she frowned, turning to him in surprise.

“I’m sure he’s hungry-“

“And I’m sure blood’s the last thing he’ll want to see right now, Buffy.”

“Oh.”

That stilled her. She hadn’t thought about it at all but of course Spike wouldn’t exactly be blood-happy right now. She shook her head and with a sigh, replaced the bag on the table, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“I didn’t think.”

She jumped when Angel was suddenly right in front of her but relaxed when his hands came to rest on her arms, caressing them gently.

“It’s okay. You just want to help, I know.”

She nodded and leant forward, resting her head against his chest and breathing in his scent. She couldn’t help letting out a yawn and closed her eyes briefly as his hand stroked over her hair. God, she had missed having him hold her.

“You need to rest. It’s been a long night.”

“The longest,” she replied, raising her head and giving him a wry smile.

He smiled and squeezed her arms gently.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and get some sleep?”

“Sounds like a really good plan,” she murmured sleepily, unable to stop another yawn, “I’ll just check on Spike quickly and then I’m bed-girl.”

She moved from Angel’s embrace but he caught her arm, halting her and drawing her back to him.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” he murmured, dark eyes holding hers.

“I know,” she whispered, reaching up and kissing him softly.



She forced herself away and with another small smile, turned and made her way out of the room. She climbed the stairs and made her way along the corridor to the room Spike was in – his room, in fact. She reached the door and quietly opened it, hoping not to wake him if he finally had some peace.

As the door opened though, it revealed to her a horrific sight: Spike was standing in the centre of the room, bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window and staring blindly at his hands as they began to burn. Without a second’s hesitation, she threw herself at him with a cry, tackling him to the floor. She pinned him to the floor, even though he made no move to struggle, and tried to get her heart’s pounding under control. She was shaking as she closed her eyes, fighting to prevent her tears.

She knew exactly what he had been trying to do and if she was really honest, she wasn’t completely surprised with the state he was in. If Angel hadn’t left him though… Her worry blended with her anger, only making her shake even more – until she realised it wasn’t just her shaking. She looked up at the vampire to find him trembling as silent tears traced down those high cheekbones.

“Make it… make it stop,” he muttered helplessly, eyes wide and pained, boring straight into her.

She scrambled off him and helped him to sit, instinctively holding him to her, her hand passing over his hair.

“I can’t,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He began to sob in earnest then, every anguished cry tugging at her, bringing tears to her eyes.

“Please don’t do that again,” she begged hoarsely, wrapping her arms around him tightly.



She didn’t know if it was a reaction to her words or not, but the next minute, he shoved her away and retreated to his corner, curled up in ball again, hands twisted in his hair as he hid his face against his knees.

“Hurts… hurts… can you hear them? All the time… I can’t get them to stop.”

She wiped at her eyes helplessly, forcing herself to her feet and turning her back on him as she rushed to close the curtains. She stood there a long time, hands clutching the fabric, fighting her emotions. She was so tired, so exhausted and worried and she wasn’t made for this. Could barely look after herself, let alone a crazed and anguished vampire.

But she had made him a silent promise, from that first moment, and she couldn’t walk away now. She would help him even if it killed her. And she couldn’t help thinking that – annoying as he had been – she kind of missed the old Spike: the cocky, arrogant Spike who would taunt her and fight her. She glanced over her shoulder at him and her heart went out to him again: he was barely half the man he had once been.

She finally forced herself away from the window and sat in a large chair beside it, curling her legs up underneath her and draping her jacket over her. Exhausted as she was, even Spike’s low moaning couldn’t keep her awake and almost as soon as she rested her head against her knees, she was fast asleep, her dreams plagued with sounds of pain and torture.



She woke some time later to a hoarse cry and she raised her head sleepily, eyes adjusting to the dimness of the room and picking out Spike’s sprawled figure in one corner. He was sleeping, finally, but judging by the cries and his expression, even his sleep was full of pain. He cried out again and she stretched her sore body out before moving over to him and crouching beside him. His whole face was contorted in agony and she ran a hand over his face before grabbing his hand as he lashed out at nothing.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she whispered, squeezing his hand gently in hers – wary not to aggravate the still-healing burns but hoping it might comfort him in some small way.

His nightmare continued for at least another ten minutes before he finally fell into a quieter sleep, punctuated only occasionally but a soft moan. She dared not move in case she woke him and so propped herself against the wall beside him, her hand still holding his tightly. She tried helplessly to stay awake, fighting constantly against her eyelids, but finally they fluttered shut and she slept again.

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