Spike pushed the wheels of the wheelchair, rolling himself out of his room and away from the moaning from the next room from his grand-sire and his princess. He cringed at the sound as his eyes began to sting. He shut them tightly, shaking his head as he took in a deep unneeded breath before continuing to another room which he had claimed only a couple hours before. His minions were moving his possessions into the room. He sighed as he rolled into the room. Angelus had originally planned to put the slayer in the room once he had acquired her but Spike thought the room would be much useful to him then the slayer. Plus, the bitch could then listen to her lover go at it night after night instead of him.
He had decided that the slayer was the cause for all his problems. For putting him in the wheelchair and bringing his grand-sire back insane. Spike loved his grand-sire really – at times. Angelus had been the father he had never had when he was a boy, teaching him the ropes and ways of the vampire. Angelus had been his friend and then he went and played with a gypsy and had a cursed placed upon him. Spike had wanted to help his grand-sire, had tried to help him by bringing him pigs for food when Darla had left him to starve. And then Angel left one night and Spike hadn’t seen him until he returned to Sunnydale only a few weeks earlier.
Spike sighed, yelling at the minions to leave. He was sure he could hear them snickering as they left which caused specks of gold to flash into his eyes. He closed his eyes for the hundredth time that day to get control of himself before her grabbed the bedpost to hoist himself up and out of the wheelchair. He held onto the post, willing his legs not to give out as he tried to walk to the other side of the bed for therapy. He held the post, leaning against it for support. Three more steps and he would be done and he could rest. He took another unneeded breath and began to take another step only to have his legs give out from underneath him. He crumpled to the ground as tears began to leak out of his eyes. He brushed them away angrily, growling as he popped another blister on his face from being burned. At least that was healing quickly unlike his legs. He sighed, grabbing the bed post and pulling himself onto the bed. He sighed again, breathing heavily as he laid on the bed. The sun would be setting in an hour and he knew that within the next ten hours, the slayer would be chained away in his old room to be tortured. Bitch deserves it, he thought to himself but he looked towards his door with a wary glance and a heavy heart of what was to come.
Buffy sat silently on a tombstone as she played with her stake. She thought back to the week previously when she had been possessed by the ghost of a fifty’s high school boy who had killed his teacher who he was having an affair with. She thought back to Angel – no Angelus – who had been possessed by the teacher who in turn forgave him for killing her. She didn’t understand why the teacher forgave the guy but it didn’t matter anymore because they were gone, onto another plane of existence but that’s not what was stuck in her head. No, it was the feel of Angel- Angelus’s lips upon her own. The feel of his arms wrapped around her again. Her head was stuck on the face that she felt at home in that instant when the two spirits had left their bodies and all that was left was his lips upon hers in a light caress. And just as fast as the feeling of being home, safe, came, it was gone. And she was left to cry out her frustrations as Angelus fled. She hadn’t seen him since.
While it brought some rest in her hectic life, she knew it would only be a matter of time before he would reenter her life and bring chaos with it. She didn’t know if she could handle it, didn’t know if she would be able to deal with having to kill him. She knew she wasn’t ready and she doubt she would ever be but what could she do? She knew what she had to do. She had to push everything of Buffy behind and become the slayer. That was all she could do.
A soft humming filled her ears and she sat up. A familiar tingle traveled up her spine, telling her that a vampire was close – too close for her comfort. She slowly got up from the tombstone, gripping her stake tightly as she turned to find Drusilla holding a glass doll in her hands, stroking the dolls dark hair. “Ms. Edith tells me you’ve been a bad little girl. Ms. Edith tells me that you put a little spell on daddy to make him love you again.” Drusilla laughed as Buffy began to slowly back away from her. “You know, daddy is quiet cross with you. You. Should. Watch. Your. Back.” With each last word, Drusilla took one step closer to Buffy causing the slayer to back up into a hard chest. She turned around to find Angelus, grinning down at her in his vampire visage.
“Hey baby, miss me?” he growled before knocking her out with a punch to her face. He then picked her up and looked down at her, his other hand tracing her lips. “And to think I let myself fall in love with you,” he whispered before looking up at Drusilla. “Come on; let’s get back on the mansion so we can have fun.” Drusilla smiled, nodding as they both walked back towards the mansion with an unconscious slayer in their possession.
Spike’s eyes snapped open when he felt her presence. They did it. They captured the slayer. He could hear Drusilla cooing to Angelus, could hear the beating of the slayers heart. He sighed, closing his eyes only to have to open them when Angelus kicked the door open. “Oh, sorry, didn’t know you had taken up residency in this room,” Angelus stated sarcastic with an evil grin. Spike growled, pulling the wheelchair over.
“Yea, well I have so please leave and take your lover with you,” he growled out. Angelus laughed before walking into the room.
“I actually have a better plan.” He turned to Drusilla with a smile. “Go get the chains; our lovely slayer is going to spend some time with our crippled vampire.”
“You are joking, right? Good one Angelus, take your bloody prize and please leave me in peace.” Drusilla returned with chains, giggling as she began to set them up. Soon, chains were hanging off the wall, onto the bed next to Spike who watched in horror as they chained the slayer up next to him. “You’re fucking kidding me,” he mumbled as Drusilla placed a small chaste kiss on his cheek.
“Have fun with her my dark knight. Enjoy your gift. Slayers blood will make up strong again, drink up,” she laughed before running out of the room. Angelus smiled closing the door behind him.
“Have fun!” he called through the door as Spike heard the click of the lock. He was locked inside his room with the slayer chained up next to him. He growled angrily, grabbing the nearest thing and throwing it at the door. The noise caused the slayer next to him to stir.
“Don’t wake up now, you stupid bint,” he growled as he pulled himself into his wheelchair. Soon enough, the slayer let out a small moan as her brows creased together in pain. “Please, let this all be a horrible nightmare,” he breathed as the slayers eyes began to open and take in the surroundings.
Buffy opened her eyes to look up at a stone ceiling. She felt cold metal surrounding her wrist and the feeling that she wasn’t alone seemed to swallow her whole. She looked over to find the bleached blond vampire sitting in his wheelchair, half of his face burnt, looking at her as if she was Satan himself. She sat herself up on the bed and looked at him.
Spike had to look away from the intense gaze she was giving him. She could only see the smooth side of his face, his burn and scars hidden from view in the shadows. Pain etched across his features as he grabbed hold of the bed post from the second time that day. He hoisted himself up, his back to her as he stood. He needed to get out of the blasted chair. He needed to heal faster. He couldn’t bear her staring at him as he sat in that blasted chair. “Stop starring, you silly bint,” he growled. Buffy quickly looked away as Spike relaxed his shoulders somewhat. He slowly limped over to the door to retrieve the book he had thrown. He was going to need something to do pretty soon and he was sure it wouldn’t involve that blasted wheelchair. He caught himself on the doorknob as his legs began to give, using his other hand to balance himself on the dresser which was placed next to the door. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he held himself up on the dresser.
“Does it hurt?” Buffy asked her voice so soft no human would have heard it. Spike stood up straight, before glaring at her, gold flecks flashing in his cold blue eyes.
“No,” he growled. “It doesn’t.” She glared back at him.
“If I had a stake-“
“Well you don’t. Right now, you are chained up with no weapon, helpless; in a room with a master vampire who would be happy to drain you dry.” She scoffed, turning away.
“More like a crippled vampire who can’t even walk.” He turned towards her, anger and rage fueling him as he took sloppy quick steps towards her, reaching the bed just in time before his legs gave out for the second time that day. “Besides, you won’t touch me. I could still hurt you, even if I’m chained to a wall and weaponless. And you know it.” Spike lashed out, back handing her across the face. She pressed her hand to her cheek, feeling it burn against her cool hand.
“You should learn quickly not to retaliate or annoy a vampire when you are at their mercy. Remember, Angelus won’t be nearly as merciful as I am and if you want to live longer, I suggest not talking at all.”