Beware. This chapter contains graphic imagery. Those of you having read my story ‘Mastery’ know my meaning.
Chapter 7
*****Flash*****
Buffy arrived in the newest memory just in time to see William bent over and retching blood in the corner of an alley. She wrinkled her nose in surprise. After a few moments he leaned up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. The air he gave off was different than that of the previous memories, in which he’d been uptight and naïve. This William, with his disheveled hair and suspenders, was darker. He’d been a vampire for several months at least; he was getting the hang of the whole predator vibe. More Spike.
Buffy frowned. If he was getting to be a tough guy, why was he throwing up in a side street? She was betting it wasn’t because he ate something that disagreed with him.
Laughter echoed between the narrow walls. Great, another Angelus memory. Buffy and the still-fledgling vampire turned in the direction of the sound. She could just make out Angelus kneeling in the dim recesses of the alley. He was on top of a victim. It was a young girl, struggling faintly against him, her weak fists barely tapping the sides of his face. He had one of his hands across her mouth, preventing her from screaming. Blood stained his mouth, and her neck bled profusely. He’d begun feeding but paused for some reason. Maybe he just wanted to see what she’d do if he…
He wasn’t straddling her. He was between her legs. Her skirt was torn and bloody. His other hand was buried inside her clothing. His hips rocked against her.
He was raping her.
Buffy wanted to look away, but she was frozen in shock. Buffy stared as Angelus ground his hand on top of the hidden spot between his victim’s legs. The girl went rigid, obviously from orgasm. Angelus followed shortly after. Then he smiled down at the young woman who’d gone limp beneath him, unable to fight anymore. Her face was pained, mortified, and overwhelmed. She was still bleeding badly. After a few moments her eyes dulled, and she exhaled a final time.
Angelus watched, avidly drinking in the sight. Then he laughed. “Such a softheart, Willy, to be losin’ your supper during one of our lessons.”
Buffy thought back to when he’d had William on the ground in the last memory. He’d said he’d be the fledgling’s teacher. She’d assumed that meant Angelus would show him how to stalk his prey and survive over time. Buffy hadn’t suspected that this was the kind of lesson William would be given.
Apparently he didn’t approve either. “My name is Spike,” he said, trying for bravado. The scene he’d just witnessed had left him too shaky to be convincing, though. He straightened himself up and tried to sneer in his ‘sire’s’ direction. He’d begun to use the harsher accent Buffy associated with him. “And I don’t see the bloody point to this mess. A clean feed’s better. They may be food, but they don’t have to be…that.” He gestured vaguely to the corpse. “You could at least have put her out of her misery.”
Angelus shook his head in an irritated and superior way. He stood slowly, not bothering to fix his clothing. “Willy, Willy, Willy. You jus don’ understan’ do yea? It’s not about what they deserve. You’re still thinkin’ of ‘em as people. You must know that’s odd for a creature of the night such as yerself?”
William gave a very Spike-like smirk as Angelus approached him. “So? What’s it matter? I’m still in control of my destiny, even if I’m not so hard up that I have to dip it in my dinner.”
Angelus gave him an indulgent smile, standing uncomfortably close to him. “Now boy, this isn’t about gratification. I’ve told you that, but as usual ye weren’t listenin’. It’s about power.” He grabbed William by the shoulders, spun him, and forced him into the wall. He crushed the smaller vampire, preventing a struggle with his much larger body. “Power. Mine, over my art.” He leaned forward to whisper in William’s ear. “And in this case, lad, that’d be you.”
Buffy jumped as Angelus jerked free William’s suspenders and shoved down his pants. William fought back, but it was too late. He couldn’t escape from the position he was in. Buffy’s hands strayed up to cover her mouth as she realized where this was leading. Angelus was talking again. “See boy, first you give ‘em a taste of what you have planned. Gets their blood goin’ and the fear up. Can smell it on you now,” he sniffed.
Angelus shifted to game face and sank his fangs into William’s jugular. William shrieked and struggled to no avail. “Then you take a nice sample of what’s inside their veins. Don’t want ‘em to have a chance to get away. You want ‘em weak, but you want ‘em to struggle. No fun if they don’t fight back.” He smashed William’s face into the wall. Buffy saw blood running down the brick.
William scowled in pain, his nose broken. “Fuck you, Angelus.”
Angelus shook his head. “No, no, boy, other way around.” Then he adjusted his hips.
Buffy turned her back to the scene, unable to keep watching. But the sounds were just as bad. She could hear Angelus grunting as he pushed inside William. She could hear William whimpering as his skin tore. Then there was the sound of flesh being slammed into the unforgiving brick wall. More grunts of satisfaction from Angelus. Moans from William. And then a horrible, sickening crunch and scream that Angelus quickly stifled.
Buffy heard William slide to the floor of the alley. Heard Angelus straighten his own clothing and take a few steps back. “Guess your hips weren’t made for this. Good thing you’ll heal. You’re a right good fuck, boy. I’ll be remembrin’ that, if you manage to make it home afore dawn.” He began to walk away.
“Sire…” William rasped. “Please don’t…leave me here.”
Angelus laughed again, hard and loud. “Consider it a test of what you’re made of. You pass, and you keep your existence another day. If not…well, then I’ll take good care of Dru.” Buffy heard his footsteps leave the alley and quickly fade.
Bracing herself, she cast a glance at the pile that was William, prone on the ground. His face had been scraped down to the bone from rubbing against the brick. His pants were around his knees. His front was facing the wall, and his shirt tail covered almost everything, but she could see the blood flowing from his rear. Immediately she wanted to throw up. But none of this was real, even if it had happened just this way. She didn’t even have a body here to vomit with.
It was worse when William began to move. His face contorted in pain, eyes streaming, and his limbs shaking furiously, he pulled his pants back on. They could barely be got back up his cracked hips, but he managed somehow. He collapsed, panting after that small victory. Sniffling, he pushed himself to his knees. He tried to pull himself up onto his feet, but keened in pain as the move applied pressure to his broken bones and fell back to the ground.
He didn’t try to stand a second time. Instead he pulled himself along the through the dirt. Buffy just stood, still in shock, as he dug his fingers into the ground. He drug himself forward, inch by inch. He paused to rest for a few moments at the mouth of the alley. He spotted a lamp post a few feet away, and crawled to it. He used it to pull himself upright, grimacing and crying quietly all the while.
Buffy walked with him as he took each agonizing step toward wherever it was he was calling home. She looked at the sky. It was early morning. She supposed he didn’t have long before the sun came up. That thought scared her, even though she knew he must have made it somehow if he was still alive. But that didn’t stop her from worrying for him.
She breathed a sigh of relief when a cab rounded the corner and William hailed it. The driver gave him a strange look, seeing as he was covered in blood and earth, but looked the other way when William offered double the normal price. Injured and weak, he barely managed to pull himself inside the carriage. Buffy frowned as the cab pulled away from her. William would be going back to Angelus. That’s where Dru was. He’d never leave her. Buffy would have liked to believe that he wouldn’t have to deal with the bastard that did that to him.
She’d been right. Humanity was the difference between William and Angelus. William liked being a vampire because it gave him freedom from what he was as a human. He wanted control over himself and liked being able to scare people. But he’d still wanted to play fair. Spike, the vampire William had grown into, still did. Sorta. At least with Spike there was a certain kind of honesty. He was proud of being a predator, but at the same time she knew that if he’d ever beaten her, he would have been kind enough to just kill her. Those were the rules.
Angelus, on the other hand. He couldn’t care less about fair. There wasn’t a scrap of sympathy or understanding in him. Did a soul really make that much difference? Or was the Angel she knew just a shell to hide the monster. How close to the surface was the soulless vampire? She’d known what he was, but somehow seeing it happen made it much more real. And he’d managed to hide exactly how brutal he’d been from her until he did lose his soul. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted to know.
Angelus didn’t even begin to consider other people in what he did. Everything was for his own pleasure and his own reasons. But Angel was different. At least that’s what she used to believe. He’d killed his sire for Buffy’s sake. He’d broken one of the most horrible vampire taboos. And that was with a soul. She couldn’t see Spike ever harming Dru, for any reason, and he didn’t have a soul.
Angel hadn’t loved Darla anymore. Sure, they were on the outs, but they’d been together for a hundred and fifty years, once. If he had killed her for Buffy’s sake, when she’d only known him a couple months, how deeply was he capable of loving? How much had he loved Buffy? He left her after only a few years. For her own good. Not that she’d ever really bought that. He just thought it would be easier on both of them. He was right, but he could have come out and said that.
Part of her just wanted to say the hell with it. Leave. But if Spike could survive all this, then she could survive watching it. She was getting angry with him for forcing her to see all this shit. To see Angel as he was, to rob her of the chance to love him in the future. To know how much better Spike could be without a soul than Angel. Ruining what few ideals she had left.
________________________________________________________________________
Giles stood leaning against the right-hand sarcophagus. Xander was across from him, sitting on the other. Both of them were watching the figure sitting in the middle of the sofa, her back toward them. She was watching someone on the telly pound steak on a cutting board. Giles smiled mirthlessly. No doubt Drusilla found the little trails of blood the meat left on the counter fascinating. At least it kept her quiet.
Xander shifted uncomfortably. “How much longer do you think it will be before the girls get back?”
A shake of the head was Giles’s reply. “I’m uncertain. I imagine they are still searching for the right ingredients.”
Xander’s eyes flicked to Drusilla and back. In a quieter voice, he asked, “And what are we gonna do about Elvira? Should we…you know…” he made a staking motion with his hand.
“She’s dangerous; we don’t want to provoke her anymore than necessary.” He glanced at the female vampire again. “I doubt Spike would appreciate waking up covered in his sire’s ash.”
Xander snorted. “Since when do we go with what Spike wants? Just because he starts dressing like a human being doesn’t mean he suddenly is one. He’s useful, even entertaining sometimes, but come on. He’s gonna get staked as soon as the chip’s gone.”
A sigh escaped Giles. The boy had a tendency to be bloody tiring. “Right now, our concern is the present. And in the present, Spike is voluntarily helping us fight a hell god. Buffy feels, and I agree, that he is a necessary evil.”
“Can we at least tell him to stop hanging around Buffy? It bugs me the way he’s so interested in her lately.” Xander’s hand encountered something soft resting on top of the stone. He pulled it toward him; it was the brown jacket Spike had been wearing the other night at the Bronze.
A frown creased Giles’s face. “What do you mean ‘hanging around Buffy’?”
Xander shrugged. “He shows up whenever she’s on patrol, and even when we’re at the Bronze. He was wearing that-” he tossed Giles the jacket, “-and blue jeans when we were out last night. I came back from the bar and he was sitting at Buffy’s table, bugging her. Then he stole my change and left.”
Giles fingered a tear on the front of the jacket, one that corresponded to the location of Spike’s injury. He must have been injured the previous evening while wearing it. He wondered vaguely what possible goal Spike could have had in suddenly changing an image he’d maintained for the last decade. Xander had said ‘dressing like a human being’. Perhaps Spike wanted to be seen as such. But by whom? Buffy? Whatever for. “Tell me more about this interest of Spike in Buffy, Xander.”
“You remember when the troll attacked? I got to playing pool with him in the Bronze beforehand, and it was all ‘What does the slayer think of this?’ and ‘What does the slayer think of that?’…”
*****
Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much to Karyn/kargrif for the lovely banner! See first chapter for it!
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