Sorrow's Own Joys by Enigmaticblue

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Chapter 12: Blood of Life

Buffy paced behind Willow as the witch leaned over the map of Sunnydale, setting up the spell. "Are you sure you're up for this, Willow?" Giles asked. "If the warlock should sense your presence, he could reverse the effect you're attempting."

"I know, Giles," Willow muttered, leaning back, having finished the set up for the spell. "But we have to try." She jerked her head toward the anxious Slayer, and Giles sighed. It was starting again. Buffy got a new boyfriend, boyfriend got into trouble, Buffy went a little crazy trying to save him.

"Buffy, I'm sure Spike will be fine," Giles said, trying to reassure her.

Dawn looked up from her position in the armchair. "Are you going to be able to find him, Buffy?"

"Of course, Dawnie," Buffy said firmly. "No one gets away with hurting my boyfriend."

Willow began her chanting, and Buffy came to stand next to her sister. "It's going to be fine," she promised.

When she had spoken the words of the spell, Willow cast the dust over the map, and it fell in glittering fragments. There was a moment of stillness when Buffy was certain that it hadn't worked, until all the dust motes literally shot to one location, glowing with a steady pulse.

"He's there," Willow said, satisfaction a thick coating over her words.

Buffy smiled, the ice in her expression matching the tone in  Willow's voice. "Then let's do some damage."

~~~~~

Lyndon was still having a grand old time watching Spike moan and mutter under the curse when he felt a prodding at his defenses. Frowning, he turned just in time to see the Slayer and two of her friends come strolling into his large cave. "You're early," he said, feeling a flash of alarm, and then dismissing it just as quickly. The boy might carry a crossbow, but it would do him no good, and the witch was alone.

"What can I say?" Buffy replied, a little smile on her lips. "I hate to be late." She had to say she didn't find the warlock very impressive. He was a small, mousy man, with no distinguishing characteristics at all. It would have been easy to ignore him in a crowd, except that he was dressed in long, black robes with all manner of silver symbols embroidered on the velvet. They were pretentious in the extreme.

"Have you come to save your precious vampire?" Buffy willed herself not to flinch at the sight of Spike. The warlock was looking entirely too smug for someone whose ass she was very shortly going to kick.

The Slayer's eyes narrowed. "You know I'm going to kill you, right?" she asked conversationally. "I mean, it's one thing to come after me, but nobody gets to mess with my boyfriend."

"Your boyfriend?" the warlock responded, his tone oily. "Such an interesting word for a human to use for a vampire, especially if that human is the Slayer." He shook his head. "Or maybe they should start calling you the 'Vampire Layer.'"

"Okay, you know that joke was old the first time I heard it," Buffy nearly snarled. "Can't you people get some new puns? Really!"

The warlock shrugged. "Enough. I'm tired of this. I think it's time we ended it."

"I agree. I've been wanting to kick your ass for a while now," Buffy replied, flexing her hands.

The warlock smiled. "No, my dear, I think it's time for you to die."

"You're going to have to deal with us too," Xander spoke up, stepping forward in what he hoped was a menacing manner.

"Oh?" The warlock flicked his fingers and the boy began to choke, suddenly unable to breathe.

Willow desperately murmured a counter-spell, hoping to loosen the magician's grip on Xander's throat. She was relatively successful, since her friend took a deep, gasping breath, but it was taking all of her strength to shield the three of them from magical attacks.

"Willow, get him out of here," Buffy ordered.

Willow looked alarmed. "Buffy!"

"I'll be fine," the Slayer insisted, seeing the glint of madness in the warlock's eyes. He was crazy, and he wasn't afraid to die in his attempt to kill all of them. "Get Xander out of here."

Willow did (mostly) as she was told, pulling the young man to the mouth of the cave, continuing to put up as much of a shield as she could manage. At least Buffy would have some protection from magical attacks.

"And now you're alone, Slayer," Lyndon said, smiling.

Buffy ignored him. "What did you do to Spike?"

"Isn't it interesting?" the warlock glanced back at the vampire, admiring his handiwork. "I used a different curse, of course. There's really no point in not engaging your creativity while you work. This one takes the worst fears and makes the person—or vampire, in this case—relive them over and over again. It's been interesting to hear what his greatest fear might be. Did you know almost all of them center around you? Your rejection, your death, it doesn't matter. Both seem to cause equal amounts of panic."

"Let him go," Buffy commanded. Now that the warlock had mentioned it, she could just make out Spike's voice, asking that she not leave, begging her to wake up, calling out her name and Dawn's.

Now Lyndon laughed heartily. "You don't understand, my dear Slayer. It's not my will that is keeping your vampire locked inside his mind; it's his own weakness. Were he a stronger man, for lack of a better word, he could break himself out of this, but he's delightfully insecure."

Buffy took a step forward, and the warlock waved his hand again, causing the air to thicken around her so that she suddenly couldn't move, nor could she breathe very well. "I had thought about killing you in front of him, but now I think I shall leave the vampire where he is. It's just so immensely satisfying. After I open the Hellmouth, perhaps I shall display him on my wall."

She struggled against the wall in front of her, feeling it give slightly, but not enough. Willow wasn't having much success in breaking the warlock's power, but then they had thought to attack him physically and with magic at the same time. Without anyone else to provide a distraction, Willow was left to fight the warlock from a distance with her will alone.

Buffy realized with a sinking feeling that she was stuck, and the warlock was looking more and more satisfied with himself. He pulled a gleaming knife out from his robe. "Say goodnight, Slayer."

She did the only thing she could think of doing. "Spike! Spike, you have to fight this. I know you can. Wake up! I'm not going to leave you! I promise. But if you don't get your ass in gear, this scumbag might end up killing me."

Lyndon's grin grew wider, the knife drew closer, and Spike still wasn't moving.

~~~~~

At some point in the middle of the nightmare, Spike could hear the Slayer's voice, separate from her words. He could see her face saying, "You're beneath me," in a dirty alley. At the same time, he could hear another echo, from another time and place, "I see the man I'm falling in love with."

Spike wasn't quite sure which was real—was the nice Buffy the right one, or was the cruel Buffy the right one? He heard snatches of conversation, just beyond him, like hearing people talking while you're still half-asleep. Buffy's voice seemed to reach his ears with a new clarity. "I've been wanting to kick your ass for a while now."

The nightmares receded, and Spike focused on what was going on just past his awareness. He heard Buffy say his name, and then, "Let him go."

She was here. She had to be here. The vampire could feel the manacles around his wrists, and he tugged hard, feeling them give slightly. He pulled harder, the muscles and skin on his arms and chest screaming in protest. The pain seemed to clear his mind further, and he could see the warlock standing in front of his Slayer, a knife in his hand. The nightmares threatened to overwhelm him again, and for a moment he was tempted to give in and quit fighting. Ignoring his own doubts and insecurities, he focused on Buffy and on getting to her in time.

The magician took another step towards Buffy, and Spike could hear her calling to him, urging him to break free. The resultant wave of panic that surged through him gave him strength. With one powerful yank, Spike pulled the chains out of the wall. The noise distracted the warlock, causing him to turn and face a very angry vampire. "Nobody messes with my girl," he growled, and with one swift movement, Spike snapped his neck.

"Spike—" He heard Buffy's voice, but it seemed to come from very far away, and he felt as though he were falling.

Spike knew no more.

~~~~~

Dawn poked her head into Buffy's bedroom cautiously. It had been five days now, and Spike still wasn't awake. Buffy and the others had come back from their mission carrying the vampire in grim silence. Willow and Xander had explained what happened, while Buffy cared for Spike's various wounds. After more than a day of watching over an unconscious Spike, the Slayer had gone to Giles to see if he knew if the curse might still be in effect.

Giles had confessed to not knowing if he would ever wake up. The combination of curses that had been used on him in such a short period of time could potentially leave him comatose. Just the fact that he had been able to break free of the warlock's control at all was something of a miracle, but he might have used all his resources for that one effort.

After three days, Buffy had no choice but to go back to work, leaving Dawn or one of the others to watch over the unconscious vampire. When she wasn't at work, however, she could be found sitting by Spike's side, staring at him, willing him to open his eyes. There really wasn't much else she could do.

"How is he?" Dawn asked softly.

Buffy looked over at her sister, dark circles under her eyes. She'd tried to sleep, but it hadn't come easy. "About the same. I keep thinking he's going to open his eyes and tell me—I don't know. Tell me he saved my life or something, gloat over it, you know. I'd give just about anything to hear him make one of his annoying comments right now."

Dawn came over to stand by her sister, putting a hand on her shoulder. "He's going to be okay, Buffy. I mean, when has Spike ever given up?"

Buffy tried for a smile and almost made it. "I know. That's what I keep telling myself. Spike doesn't leave, even when you want him to, so he's got to be okay."

"I know," Dawn said. "I wish we had an antidote or something for whatever that scumbag did to Spike's brain."

"Me too," Buffy said, and then stopped. The only vampire poison she knew of had an antidote—the blood of the Slayer. Slayer blood was supposed to be something of a cure-all for vampires, surely this time it would help. At least, it could hardly hurt.

"Dawn, could you do me a favor?" Buffy asked quietly.

Dawn looked over at her sister with a frown. "Sure, Buffy. What is it?"

"I want you to make sure no one comes in here for a while." Buffy met her sister's blue eyes, a level of seriousness in her gaze that Dawn rarely saw.

Dawn hesitated, and then nodded. "I'll make sure."

"Good." Buffy gave her sister a hug, and then saw her to the door, shutting it firmly behind her. Turning back to the bed, she looked at Spike's still figure. They had been feeding him by pouring blood down his throat at regular intervals. Not a fun process. For her plan to work, Buffy would just have to hope that Spike's vampire instincts would take over when he smelled Slayer blood.

Buffy went to her weapons' chest and pulled out a small dagger, testing the edge with her thumb. Coming back over to sit next to Spike, the Slayer took a deep breath and ran the blade over her wrist, watching the thin, red line well up. As gently as possible, Buffy forced his mouth open and placed the wound over his mouth, letting her blood drip.

For a long time, the Slayer was afraid that nothing was going to happen. Blood was filling his mouth, but there was no change in his face, and he wasn't swallowing. Buffy ran a hand over his bruised cheek. "Come on, Spike. Please. Just drink."

As if her encouragement was all he needed, Spike's adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. Slowly, his face changed, the demon coming out, and Buffy could feel his fangs latching onto her wrist with almost exquisite pain.

Spike took several deep pulls before his eyes fluttered open, yellow meeting green. He disengaged almost immediately, his features melting back into his human face. "Buffy?"

"That's right," she replied softly, stroking his hair. "How are you feeling?"

"Everythin' hurts," he complained, then frowned. "Did—did I—Buffy, 'm sorry, I didn't—"

"Hush," she commanded. "I wanted you to. You've been out for a few days, and I didn't know how else to bring you back."

Spike blinked, then said weakly, "You let me drink from you?" In his slightly fuzzy state, it seemed preposterous. It was the ultimate offering, and in the wake of the curse, constantly hearing Buffy's voice saying, "You're beneath me," it was incredible. Too good to be true.  And yet the aftertaste of her lingered.

"I think 'encouraged' is probably a better word there." Buffy smiled. She could see his eyes clearing, and the bruising on his face, which had been slowly getting better, was now noticeably improved. "You're better then? What happened?"

Sheepish was really the only word to describe the look on his face. "Thought I could get the drop on the bugger and kill him. I hadn't gone but ten feet out my door an' he got the drop on me. Don't remember much else. Woke up briefly in that cave before he put the whammy on me. An' then I—I heard you sayin' you were fallin' in love with me, and I guess I just broke myself out of it."

Buffy smiled smugly. "And that idiot thought you were weak. As if." The humor left her face and she fixed him with a glare. "But Spike, if you ever, ever pull anything like that again, I will personally stake your ass."

He gave her an apologetic smile. Spike had meant to bring her the warlock's head on a platter, not have her rescue him from torture and certain death. "I really am sorry, luv. Never wanted to worry you, just wanted to put a stop to his comin' after us."

"I know," she said. "And since you didn't die—again—I'm going to let it go." Buffy laid down next to him, grabbing one of his hands since there wasn't a non-tender spot on his chest she could fling an arm over. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," he assured her. Sleep was now far away, which made sense as he'd been unconscious for a while now. "'m not goin' anywhere."

Buffy snuggled next to him. "I've been thinking," she said sleepily.

"Hard work?"

"Stop it!" she said, resisting the urge to slap him. "I was thinking that it might be nice if you were here. A lot more."

"I already am here," Spike said. "And I'm here a lot, actually."

Buffy laughed. "No, I mean it would be nice if you were here all the time. It would be good if you kept your house, of course, for when we wanted to be alone."

Spike frowned. "You mean, comin' to live here?"

"Yeah. You could have a drawer and everything." Buffy's eyes drooped slightly. "I don't know, Spike. I've lost so many people that I love, either because they leave me or because they die. At first I thought I could run away from it, but now I just want to make the most of what I do have."

"And that includes me does it?" Spike was still having some trouble with this scene. Mere days ago, the Slayer had been avoiding him like the plague, and now she wanted him to come and live with her?

"Doesn't it?" Buffy asked. She roused herself enough to kiss him, proving to him with her actions that she meant what she said.

Spike pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes, trying to see the truth behind her words. "I don't want you to feel pressured," Buffy said quietly, seeing the uncertainty in his face. "But I'd like to have you around."

He considered it for a moment. "Tell you what, luv," he finally said. "I'll take you up on that offer of a drawer, but we'll play the rest of it by ear. See what happens. Might not be what you want."

Buffy smiled, and rolled her eyes. "Spike, you are what I want." She yawned widely. "But right now, I think I want to sleep."

"Then sleep, luv," he replied. "'m goin' to be right here."

Spike watched as she dozed off, thinking about what he wanted for her, and for them. Thinking about what it would mean to live under the Slayer's roof, to be with Dawn. To be a family. He realized that his worst fears had gone unrealized, that they had been dispelled with Buffy's words, and her offer, even though he didn't think he would take her up on it just yet. Not yet, but soon.

Spike thought back to the beginning of all of it, to the depths of despair that he had walked, and he knew it wasn't over. There would continue to be adjustments, and sadness, and fear. It was inevitable; it was a part of life. And it was all worth it.

He ran a hand over Buffy's hair, and whispered, "Losing through you what seemed myself, I find selves unimaginably mine; beyond sorrow's own joys and hoping's very fears yours is the light by which my spirit's born: yours is the darkness of my soul's return—you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars."

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