Summary: Spike stops a warlock's spell, inadvertantly getting himself into deep trouble. Will Buffy be able to accept the changes in him? And what are they going to do about Glory?
Rating: PG-13
"What's up, Buffy?" Willow asked, just a tad too casually as she sat down next to her best friend.
"Not much," the Slayer replied carefully. She honestly wasn't sure how to describe the events of the last couple days. Her entire world had seemed to change overnight.
Willow looked at her. "Do you see this face?" she asked seriously. "This is my resolve face, Buf. What's up?"
Buffy laughed a little. "I can't resist the resolve face!" she protested.
"No one can," Willow replied. "So spill."
Buffy hesitated, and then said, "I took Spike to the Bronze the other night to get some information out of him. You know how Xander was wondering why he'd take on a warlock in the first place?" When Willow nodded, she continued, "Well, he told me why. He said he was in love with me."
Willow's eyes went wide with shock. She hadn't been expecting that. "He actually said that?" she asked incredulously.
Buffy shook her head. "Huh uh. I kind of sensed something and I called him on it. And then he threatened to leave, so I told him that our conversation had never happened. Spike's exact words were, 'I don't want to see you dead anymore.'"
"Oh." Willow considered that for a minute, and then asked, "What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing," Buffy replied quietly. "I wasn't even sure I wanted to tell anybody. It's not that I like him or anything, Will, but he's different sometimes. When he's not being incredibly annoying, he's almost nice to be with." She shook her head. "I just don't get him."
Willow frowned. "Has he changed? I mean, with the whole torture thing and all, it seemed like it was pretty likely he was going to go crazy or something, and if he hasn't, maybe it changed him another way."
"I don't know," Buffy admitted. "But as long as he doesn't go all psycho-stalker on me, it's not necessarily a bad thing for him to be hanging around. He's basically told me he's not going to let anything happen to Mom or Dawn."
Willow shrugged. "Well, Angel was helpful. When he had his soul anyway. Are you going to tell Giles?"
Buffy shook her head emphatically. "He'll flip. And Spike doesn't deserve the wrath of Giles right now." She quickly told Willow what she and Spike had managed to discover on their trip to the train station. "If he didn't want to help, he wouldn't have told me it was Drusilla," Buffy said. "I think we should stick to telling Giles that and let the rest of it go. It'll work itself out eventually."
Giles frowned. "I don't know what to tell you about tracking Drusilla down." Classes were over for the day, and she and Willow had headed over to the Magic Box immediately to let the Watcher know what Buffy had discovered. "Spike might be able to do that, considering that he's her childe, but if he wasn't willing to, I don't see where that leaves us. I'm not sure we have another way to trace her."
"I think he would have if I asked him," Buffy said slowly. "He basically asked me not to ask him to, and I agreed. It wouldn't be fair to him, and he might not be able to keep himself from helping her."
Giles nodded, giving Buffy a measuring look. He didn't think he'd ever heard the words "fair" and "Spike" in the same sentence before. "Speaking of Spike, I think you should know what I've discovered about the-wounds on his chest." The Watcher pulled out a notebook where he'd made a replica of the carving that had been done on the vampire. "As I suspected, the marks were not random, but were rather words. A curse, to be precise."
Willow leaned over the notebook to take a closer look. "A part of the ritual? The Blood of the Victims?"
Giles shook his head. "No. The ritual itself calls for nothing of the sort. If you were to do this kind of thing to a human, they most likely would soon die from blood loss and shock, negating the efficacy of the ritual. It says, 'Unbearable torment from harm done as long as this mark lasts.'" He pulled off his glasses and began to clean them. "That's a translation, and a paraphrase. The actual language doesn't use articles, so they aren't there, of course..." He trailed off as he saw the bored look on Buffy's face. "Yes, well, it seems as though this curse was to begin as soon as the ritual was interrupted. You initiated it by pulling Spike off the wall, in fact, Buffy."
Buffy made an alarmed face. "I didn't mean to."
"No, of course not," Giles said impatiently. "There was no way you could avoid it, in this case."
"But what does it mean, Giles?" Willow asked. "Spike doesn't seem to be going crazy or anything with unbearable torment. What would that mean for a vampire?"
Giles didn't reply, but only looked carefully at the two girls, waiting for them to come up with their own explanation. He had no proof, but there was no denying that the wording was very interesting indeed. "His soul?" Buffy suddenly whispered. "Angel was supposed to suffer unbearable torment with his soul."
Willow's eyes went wide. "Oh boy." She looked at Giles in alarm. "Is he going to lose it? Can he lose it?"
Giles shook his head. "Vampires do not scar easily, but they can be scarred, as far as I know. It's a very good possibility that if Spike did get his soul returned to him, or cursed on him, it will never be removed."
Buffy shook her head. "I can't believe he wouldn't tell me."
"Perhaps he didn't know," Giles suggested. "Or perhaps the curse itself means something else; it is difficult to say. You might want to ask him."
The Slayer nodded slowly. "I think that's exactly what I want to do."
~~~~~
Spike woke from the nightmare with a gasp. He sat up, pulling his knees to his chest and putting his head down. This one had been particularly bad, filled with images of him killing. And every time he saw the face of his victim, it was Buffy's face.
He rose from his nest of blankets with a sigh and pulled on a pair of jeans, deciding to forgo the shirt for the present. Tracing a careful finger over the almost-healed scars on his chest, he winced. Spike knew, of course, what it was supposed to be for, and he hadn't lied to Giles when he'd said they represented pain. There was good reason for the warlock not to return; he didn't need to. Killing Spike would not prolong the torture, and that had been his goal, to make the torment last for as long as possible. Spike was fairly certain the warlock had known the story of Angel, because that was basically what he had been duplicating, except that the torment for Spike would never end. He wouldn't be able to get rid of the curse, not unless he wanted to skin his chest. Not a pleasant thought.
A small noise from downstairs alerted him to the fact that he seemed to have a guest. Spike grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it over his head as he navigated the rickety stairwell. "What are you doing here?"
Dawn looked up guiltily. "I wanted to be sure you were okay."
"I'm fine, Snack Size," he said. "So what are you doing here?"
The girl shrugged unhappily. "I didn't really want to go home or to the Magic Box, you know? They still look at me funny sometimes." She glanced up at him. "I feel real when I'm with you."
Spike looked at her hard for a second and then shrugged, relaxing. "Soon's it gets dark, I'll walk you home, Bit. Just because Glory hasn't shown her face for a while, no sense in taking stupid risks." And then he smiled. "And I'd bet you'd taste real enough, pet. You smell real, and I always trust my nose."
Dawn followed him as he went into the dilapidated kitchen. "You actually get electricity in here?" she asked, watching as he pulled a bag of blood out of the small fridge.
"Wouldn't have moved in if I couldn't. Have to have my telly, don't I?" Spike looked over at Dawn suspiciously. "Who knows you're here, Bit?"
Suddenly looking guilty, she stared at the floor. "No one. But they won't be expecting me for a while yet. It'll be fine, Spike."
"Better be," he muttered.
They spent the afternoon playing gin rummy, while Dawn filled him in on the goings on at the Summers' house, and talked about the boy she liked. Spike found himself feeling a real fondness for the girl, beyond the fact that she was related to Buffy. Dawn was spunky; she had a mouth on her like no other, and she treated him as much like a real person as he treated her. As soon as the sun set, he found himself walking her home, and he glanced over at her as they neared Revello Drive. "Look, Niblet, you need a place to go, you can come over. But let somebody know, alright? Last thing I need is your sister coming after my head."
"Thanks, Spike," Dawn said, and then scampered off home as Spike went back to his, hopefully for a few hours of sleep if he could manage it.
Unfortunately, sleep didn't seem to be on the menu for him. As soon as he entered the old house, he could sense someone else's presence, and there was only one person in all the world who had that particular scent. "Hello, Dru," he said flatly.
"My Spike," she purred, coming out of the shadows. "I missed you."
"Too bad," he murmured, lighting a cigarette. "Maybe you shouldn't have left."
Dru came up to him, trailing one limp hand along his shoulder blades. "Poor Spike. Dog can't bite."
Spike turned and snarled at her. "Dog won't bite, Dru, as you probably already know." He stalked over to the door. "Slayer's goin' to kill you for the train, pet. My advice is to get out of town before I'm forced to give her a hand." Then he left. If he wasn't going to get any sleep, he was going to get something to drink.
~~~~~
Buffy knocked on Spike's front door. She wasn't sure why she was knocking; she never had before. But it just seemed more impolite to burst in on somebody's house than it did a crypt, she supposed.
There was no response to her knock, and she tried the door, not surprised when it swung open. "Spike?" she called as she entered. "You here?" Sighing she turned and looked over the room. He still didn't have any furniture, but it seemed he'd made use of her mom's blankets to cover the windows. Buffy was tempted to sit around and wait for him to come home, but there was no telling when he'd return. Best just to leave and maybe he'd turn up later in the evening.
The Slayer turned back towards the front door when something warned her of a presence behind her. She hadn't even got all the way turned around when the cattle prod hit her in the back, and she stiffened and fell to the floor, unconscious, dimly hearing Drusilla's insane laughter.
~~~~~
Spike had three beers under his belt, and they weren't even taking the edge off. He half-wondered if that curse had something to do with it; couldn't experience unending torment if you were shit-faced, now could you? He tossed another couple bills on the bar and took the proffered bottle, deciding that this one was going to be his last. If he really wanted to get drunk, he needed more serious liquor to do it.
"Spike!" The vampire turned to see the red-headed witch waving at him. He frowned, and went over to where she was sitting with her girlfriend. "Hey," she greeted him. "What's up?"
"Not much," he admitted, trying not to think about the fact that he'd left Drusilla back at his house. He should be trying to find the Slayer to let her know. He'd promised after all. "Where's Buffy?"
Willow frowned. "You haven't seen her? She wanted to talk to you. She said she was going to meet you at your place."
Spike shook his head. "No, I had to walk the Little Bit home, and then-" He broke off abruptly as he realized exactly what Willow was saying. There was every possibility that he had just missed Buffy, which meant that she would have been left alone with Dru. "Bloody hell," he swore, setting his bottle down on the table and taking off, not even bothering to try to explain.
His feet hit the ground in a fast-paced rhythm as he used his vampiric speed to his advantage. How could he have just left Dru there? He should have run her out of town himself, made sure she left. The house was silent when he got there, with no signs of life at all, but he knew better. Spike could still scent both Buffy and Dru, and knowing his sire, she would have already found the cellar.
Spike clattered down the ladder-like stairs, not bothering with a sneak attack. Dru had probably sensed him as soon as he came through the front door anyway. And sure enough, there was his sire, squatting in front of Buffy who was just starting to come around. The Slayer's hands had been tied behind her back, and she was leaning, half-conscious against the wall. Spike wasn't sure he was going to be able to get to Dru before she took a chunk out of Buffy's neck, her teeth were that close.
"Get away from her," Spike growled.
Dru sniggered, not a very nice sound really. "My Spike came back to play."
He trembled where he stood, wanting to pull her away from Buffy, but not sure how to do it without getting the Slayer hurt. "I'm not yours. I'm not anyone's." He felt his own face shift. "Back off, Dru, before I do something we'll both regret."
She narrowed green-gold eyes at him. "Nasty bits of wire and plastic," she pouted. "It's the heart that counts, luv. You could kill if you wanted to. You should come back to Mummy."
Spike smiled coldly. "That's just the thing, pet. Don't want to. But you already knew that, didn't you?" Surreptitiously, he reached into his duster pocket for the stake he knew was there. He didn't want to kill her, but he might have to if she didn't get away from Buffy. "Face it, Dru. If you hadn't left me, none of this would have happened. We were happy in Brazil, before you took up with that Chaos demon." He let vent some of the bitterness he still felt over that deal. "A Chaos demon! With the slime, and the horns."
"I shouldn't have let you leave," Drusilla purred quietly. "My brave knight. But I'll get rid of the Slayer, dancing all 'round your head."
And with that she was very ready to plunge her teeth into Buffy's neck, even as the Slayer opened her mouth to tell him to do something constructive about his ex. Spike could see the fear in the Slayer's eyes, and it was all the impetus he needed to do what had to be done. With a cry of rage, he thrust the stake into his sire's unprotected back and pushed her body aside. He knew he'd missed the heart. Barely. "Told you, I'm not yours anymore. Tired of playin' everybody else's bloody games."
Spike waited until Drusilla rose, swaying with pain. "Get out," he gritted between clenched teeth. "I mean it, Dru. That's the last time I tell you and the last time I miss. You come back, you won't even get a warning from me."
She left then, as he knew she would. Drusilla had a healthy sense of self-preservation, for all her madness. She knew he was serious, and she knew he'd changed, even if no one else seemed to have realized it.
Once she'd gone, he knelt down next to the Slayer, trying to get his fingers around the rope to undo the knots. Fingers that were suddenly clumsy with reaction and grief. "Bloody hell," he whispered furiously as he tried and failed to undo the knots once again.
"Do you have a knife?" Buffy asked, slightly amused at his frustration and anger.
He nodded. "I'll be right back, luv." Spike's eyes suddenly met hers. "You alright?" When she nodded at him, he left to get the promised knife in order to cut her bonds. A couple minutes later and she was free, already heading up the ladder.
"Coming?" she called behind her, and she heard the heavy creak of wood as Spike's boots hit the stairs. She turned to look at him as he followed her up and shut the door to the cellar behind him. "You okay?" she asked softly.
"'m fine," he managed. "You should get home."
"Spike-"
"'m fine!" he cried angrily. "Sod off, Slayer! I told Dru I'm tired of bein' everybody else's Spike. I'm sick of bein' love's bitch. What the hell do I get in return?"
Buffy stared at him. He was angry and in pain, and most of it was because of her. At least, partially. Spike had gone after the warlock for her, and gotten cursed for his troubles. He'd come very close to killing his sire for her tonight. And she did the only thing she could think of doing. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Spike struggled, but only for a moment. Then he relaxed and buried his face in her hair. "Dammit," he muttered.
Buffy stifled a giggle. It really wasn't funny, but he was such a drama queen sometimes. "Thank you," she murmured into his chest.
He heaved a sigh. "'s okay," Spike replied, tired. "I knew she was here; I was goin' to try findin' you."
"It's all right," Buffy said. "Really. No harm done." She pulled back and looked at him, grabbing his chin when he wouldn't meet her eyes. "Look at me," she commanded. "I know a little about what that cost you. So thanks."
Spike pulled away and went to sit down, sliding down the wall until he hit the floor. "It was time. Dru needed to realize I wasn't comin' back, an' that was the only way to get through to her."
Buffy sat down next to him, their arms barely touching in a companionable distance. "Whatever happens after this, Spike, I won't forget what you did for me tonight." She looked over and met his eyes. "We're friends."
He cocked his head to the side, brows drawn together in a puzzled frown, as though testing to see whether or not she was telling the truth. "Seriously?"
"Seriously." They sat there until the sun rose, and Spike drifted off to sleep. Buffy left then, but not until she'd found a blanket to put over him and another to pillow his head.
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