Chapter 13
Giles pushed open the crypt’s door, nodding in greeting to Xander, who had been standing on guard near the entrance. The young man looked warily for Drusilla, and not seeing her glanced at Giles, his eyes questioning. “She’s outside,” he replied to Xander’s unvoiced query. “Guarding the demon.”
“It isn’t dead?” Xander asked, confused.
Giles shook his head wearily. “No. Unconscious. We may not be able to remove the venom if it’s dead. We’ll dispatch it after Spike’s awake.” He set his crossbow atop the nearest sarcophagus before leaning heavily against the stone.
Willow and Tara had moved Spike’s coffee table to one side, setting their cauldron and tripod up in its place. A small magic fire, fueled only by will, heated the steaming contents of the pot while Tara stirred carefully. Three strokes clockwise, three strokes counterclockwise, and then again. Willow had been watching, but rose and came to stand near the two men. “Are you okay, Giles? You look kinda tired. And dusty,” she added, looking over his disheveled clothes.
He snorted. “Yes, well, the the glarghk guhl kashma’nik as a species are not known for giving in without a substantial fight, even against a master vampire and a well-armed human.” He flexed his left hand, the knuckles of which were bruised. “I assure you, Willow, that I’m fine. Just, as you say, tired. And perhaps a bit sore.”
Xander frowned, but didn’t comment. “Okay. So what now?”
“We extract a sample of the venom and complete the antidote,” Giles replied. “How soon will you be ready to include the venom in the potion?”
Willow thought for a moment. “Well, it’s got another…say, sixty strokes before we can add the final ingredient, and then it needs to brew for half an hour.”
Giles nodded. “Then in an hour we’d best be prepared for a ripe bit of chaos. Drusilla believes Spike is going to leave Sunnydale with her when she goes. I sincerely doubt that he will, given their recent history.”
“You think she’ll go crazy?” Xander half-smiled when Giles and Willow raised their eyebrows. “I mean, crazier than she already is?”
Giles shook his head. “I haven’t the faintest idea what we’re in for.”
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*****Flash*****
Spike was running from the Initiative. It sounded simple enough, but Buffy had never considered what exactly fleeing from them involved. Hiding out in a crypt maybe, or racing through the sewers. The scenario she was watching play out now, in Spike’s head, consisted of a string of memories taken from different places and different days that bled together into one long nightmare.
They hunted him furiously. It amazed Buffy that a single vampire, even one as special as Spike, would entice them into such a long and fruitless chase. But then of course Dr. Maggie Walsh didn’t want one of her precious experiments, like Spike’s chip, to get away.
And so for a week he evaded capture.
First he tried to get his car from a cave on the outskirts of Sunnydale. The soldiers patrolled that area, though, and he had to fall back. He cased the bus terminal, the train station, even a rental car agency in his desperation to find a way out of Sunnydale. Always the presence of soldiers, monitoring the town they’d secretly claimed.
Leaving wasn’t possible, so he concentrated on staying clear of the soldiers. Spike couldn’t stay still for more than a couple hours at a time, because they were always following. He could hide in a cellar for a little while, or a cavern, but could never rest for long. An hour’s sleep and then he was moving again, night and day pursued. He could move faster at night, because he didn’t have to spread a blanket over his head for the sun, but it was never fast enough to lose the commandos.
Buffy watched him try to break into a butcher’s shop one night, since he’d obviously accepted that he couldn’t feed from humans. But the Initiative had counted on that. They were there waiting as Spike broke the glass. He ran fast for a creature that hadn’t eaten in days, too scared to let his weakness affect his speed. When the commandos were far enough behind he collapsed on the nearest patch of grass, dry heaving from the exertion. Nothing came up. Then he stood and continued to trudge forward.
On another occasion, Spike stumbled on uneven ground, falling and skinning his palms, but unable to pause for more than a moment. He picked himself up and licked morosely at the blood as it welled up through the cuts. Buffy could hear his short, low growls as he tasted his own blood, the first he’d sampled in a long while.
He went back to Harmony and begged. That went well. Not. She chased him away with a stake. Buffy couldn’t bring herself to say Harmony was unjustified after what Spike had put her through, but...he was literally starving.
As the days had passed he’d grown paler, his skin turning grey. His red eyes pleaded for sympathy, dark circles highlighting his lack of rest. His clothing hung loose on his frame as he clutched his duster to him to block out the cold. Pitiable. Like that statue they talked about in art classes. Spike needed help. That was how he came to stand on Giles’s doorstep and beg admittance.
*****Flash*****
Spike walked out of a bar on Seventh Street, swaying ever so slightly. He wasn't exactly drunk, just less than sober. He paused just outside the door, looking around for possible threats, Buffy figured. The street before him was deserted, though, so he pulled his coat close around him and headed in the general direction of Restfield Cemetery. If he was living at the Alpert Crypt, then this had to be after Giles got turned into a Fyarl. She couldn’t place the time more exactly than that.
Huh. She’d half expected memories from his time among the Scoobies. Being chained in the bathtub at Giles’s, being forced by Willow’s spell to kiss his worst enemy. The big baby must not have hated it as much he let on. And after all, Buffy wasn’t that bad of a kisser. Actually, she was relieved that as unkind as they had sometimes been to the poor vampire, they hadn’t ranked among these wretched experiences.
Spike looked so small, clutching his leather duster to him and wandering down the empty street. Only, it suddenly wasn't as empty as it had been. Three guys had exited the club after Spike. They were all a bit over six feet tall and kind of burly. The first had a shaved head and four earrings in one earlobe, the second had a pierced chin and a clashing orange t-shirt and green jeans, and the final member of the trio looked like King Kong. Really. The man was seriously hairy.
They were more than just your common everyday pick pockets. Buffy could tell murderers from muggers any day. It came from hanging out in so many dark places. These guys were dangerous. Their shadows fell long and ominous in the low glow from the streetlights.
They didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere. They stood on the sidewalk, laughing at something one of them had said and smoking. Then Baldy, who appeared to be the leader, looked in the direction Spike had taken a few moments before. Spike was only about two blocks away, his back to them. Baldy looked to his two friends and nodded in Spike's direction. They seemed to reach some silent agreement and headed after the blonde.
Oh God. The chip. Spike was chipped. These idiots were going to catch up to him and he wouldn’t be able to stop them from doing whatever the hell they wanted.
Spike didn’t seem to notice their approach, more proof that he’d been drinking. When he finally looked over his shoulder Buffy saw his instant comprehension of the situation he was in. It came with a flash of fear so brief that most people wouldn’t have noticed it, but then she’d gotten accustomed to reading Spike’s face. The face which now became closed, with hooded, arrogant eyes, and smile of self-confidence and disdain in place. A mask was now his primary protection.
He released his duster to flow around his body, changing his shadow and his impact in the process. He didn't stop walking, but went with a firmer stride. His whole persona switched from pitiable to something threatening and powerful. An intelligent gang wouldn't have targeted him, since he appeared to be nothing like prey. He was pure predator.
It was good defense, and in fact the only defense he could put forward with the chip.
But it was ignored. The three stooges continued to close in on him, fanning out to cut off his escape routes. They got to within ten feet of him before Spike began to run. The bald leader shouted "Where you goin' Billy Idol?" as he and his three followers sped up their pursuit. Spike streaked down the road, far outstripping them in his flight toward the end of the block.
He leaped out into the road straight into the path of an oncoming car. The driver swerved, hitting him a glancing blow before speeding off. Spike overbalanced, hit the ground, then scrambled up to try and escape, but his stalkers had caught up with him.
Kong tackled him from behind, skinning Spike's cheek on the asphalt below them. Spike fought back on instinct, landing a solid blow to Kong's shoulder that only succeeded in triggering the chip. Spike moaned and went rigid, temporarily paralyzed. Kong and the jerk in the orange shirt grabbed him under his shoulders and drug him off the street. They pulled him to his feet then threw him back first at the wall of the building beside them.
Baldy, who ran like a five year old girl, finally came up. He grabbed Spike's hair at the top of his head, slamming his skull back into the bricks. Buffy could see a red stain spreading out from the point of impact. Baldy began jamming his hands in Spike's duster pockets. He found Spike's cash and a packet of cigarettes, stashing both in his own coat. "Fuck. You're pathetic, aren't, you Billy? Won't even fight back."
"Maybe he likes it!" Snickered the orange shirt.
"Yeah," Kong laughed, "Look at those clothes. He's a fag."
"That right, Billy?" Baldy asked with a sneer. "You into us? Let's see." He grabbed Spike's crotch roughly.
Spike snarled and vamped out, trying to scare them. Kong and the orange shirt flinched as Baldy jumped back. With the other man's support gone Spike couldn't seem to stand and slide down the wall into a crouch on the sidewalk.
"What the hell?" Orange shirt yelled.
"It's a trick!" Baldy shouted as he pulled a gun that had been well-concealed in the small of his back to aim at Spike's head. "Stop whatever the fuck that shit is or I'll blow your head off!" He cocked his gun.
Buffy had never seen a vamp who'd been shot through the head. She wasn't sure what kind of damage a bullet would do, let alone how much pain it would cause. Spike must not have felt it worth the risk of a bullet, and slowly his game face melted away.
Baldy lowered the gun a fraction and in an angry, disbelieving voice demanded, "You like playin' games, Billy? What are you, you freak?"
"Please," Spike said quietly, his eyes screwed shut.
"Please?" Kong asked with a laugh.
"You've got my cash. Please, just take it and go." He winced, eyes still closed, as though it pained him to ask. It hurt Buffy to watch him forced to beg this scum. To cower before humans he wouldn't have bothered to eat a few years ago. She was going to beat the crap out of these idiots if she ever found them. She'd never felt tempted to seriously harm a human being before seeing them.
"Yeah," Baldy snorted, "we'll leave." then he fired. Three shots hit Spike in the chest. His eyes snapped open and he howled in pain. Then seizing his only chance, he slumped over, feigning death.
His assailants laughed to themselves, having, like all denial-ridden citizens in Sunnydale, discarded the notion that they'd met a vampire. They did leave, but not before Kong kicked Spike in the stomach as a farewell. Spike didn't flinch, probably expecting it.
He didn't move after they left, just stayed lying on his side while tears spilled out of his eyes and blood trickled slowly from his chest.
"Stop this Spike. I know you're in here somewhere." Buffy said tiredly. "Stop torturing yourself like this."
Buffy couldn’t take much more of this emotional abuse. Watching and unable to stop Spike's robbery and molestation by three of the people her job said to protect did nothing to ease her mind. But she'd nearly reached the present she'd come from. There couldn't be more than one or two more memories between her and Spike. Could there? Or did this just go on and on and on...
*****
Not to worry, we’ll be exiting Spike’s head within the next two chapters. Please let me know what you thought! Thank you to Linda, my beta.
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