Forever Again

by SpikesKat

 

Chapter 9

Spike left Buffy and the cheerleader sitting beside a sleeping Dawn and went in search of his grandsire. He was just passing by the Science lab when the door opened and he was nearly run over by an emerging Fred.

“Spike! Hey!”

“What’s the rush, pet?”

“I’ve…well, I’ve been doing some analysis and things aren’t really—”

“Sorry... Love to stay and chat, but don’t really have the time right now. Gotta find Angel and—”

“Oh…That’s…erm…well, I know it was probably a long shot anyway with Dawn, but I didn’t…I mean, I wanted to feel useful…”

Spike waited patiently for the girl to get to the point. Hurting her feelings wasn’t going to do either of them any good.

“It’s this sarcophagus. It arrived the other day…just before Dawn showed up, as a matter of fact. And it seemed like too much of a coincidence…”

Spike brushed past her and marched into the lab before she could finish. He made a complete circuit of the stone object, peering at the markings and stones intently.

“Where did it come from?” he asked brusquely.

“I don’t know.”

“Who sent it?”

“I don’t know…”

Fred forced herself not to flinch when the vampire’s gaze left the sarcophagus and zeroed in on her.

“Look. I’m sure this thing has nothing to do with what’s affecting Dawn. But, well… It’s just a feeling I've got, ya know. And Dawn? She was fine before it showed up…and now…”

“…she’s not. Thanks, pet. I’ll let Angel know. You keep working and tell me if you find out something, yeah?”

“O-okay.”

Spike smiled at the girl before hurrying from the room. He, too, was one to follow his instincts…and right now they were screaming at him that Fred might have stumbled onto something.

“Sire, the li’l scientist thinks…oh…,” Spike started as he let himself into Angel’s office.

Both Lorne and Angel were standing in the room, the elder vampire’s face carefully blank as he looked up at Spike’s entrance.

“Hey,” Spike called out a greeting as he closed the door and walked over to where the two stood by the desk.

“Hey there, sweetcheeks. Big guy here was about to spill about what the doctors know.”

Spike turned to face Angel and blanched at the elder’s expression. “What? What is it?” he demanded abruptly.

“Spike…it’s…” Angel sighed heavily, unsure how to begin.

“Jus’ tell me already.”

“Whatever it is…it’s…it’s not good, I’m afraid. It’s a parasite of some sort. It’s slowly hollowing out Dawn’s organs.”

“No,” Spike whispered, while beside him, the green demon gasped. “It can’t… Buffy…. she’ll…this’ll kill her, Sire. We can’t let this happen. The Niblet…she’s better than this.”

Angel walked over to stand in front of Spike and wrapped his arms around him in a comforting embrace. Too distraught over the news, the blond-headed vamp allowed the show of affection of his elder, taking a moment to bask in his strength and support.

“We’ll beat this thing, Childe. Whatever it takes, we’ll beat it.”

Spike pulled away abruptly, suddenly remembering the sarcophagus.

“Fred. She said this thing showed up in her office. Doesn’t really believe it’s the cause, but…well…” He started pacing, the movement automatic whenever he became agitated. “’s a sarcophagus. Says it just showed up the other day in her lab. They can’t get a read on it, and there’s no paper trail leading back to how it got there.”

“Why wasn’t I told?” Angel interrupted.

“Dunno. Maybe she didn’t think it was important. Hell, it may not even be related. But, it’s too much of a bloody coincidence to pass it off, yeah? Told her to keep lookin’ into it, then I came up here.”

“Um, Angel-cakes? Not to change the subject and everything, but you said it was a parasite, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“Well, seems to me, our petite little senior partners’ Judas might know a thing or two about that,” Lorne hazarded to say.

“I’ll bloody well kill her,” Spike growled, his eyes narrowing in remembrance.

“I was looking to work the streets, and we've got Lindsey’s address. For all we know, he's probably sitting there laughing. And if there's muscle work to do...”

“Let's make it twice as fast,” Spike added.

“And baby makes three…in case anybody feels like singing.”

~*~*~*~*~

“Just like the ‘Three Li’l Bears,’” Spike commented from the open doorway, inadvertently waking Eve.

“Angel!” Eve gasped, sitting up abruptly and drawing the covers up to her neck. “What—”

“It’s simple, Eve,” Angel announced, stepping just inside the room. “I’m gonna ask you a question. If I feel like you’re lying, I’m going to let Spike here take a bite out of you.”

Spike’s demon burst forth, the gleam of his fangs causing the woman to shrink back in horror, cowering beneath the comforter.

“The Slayer’s sister is dying. Some type of mystical parasite. And we all know how much you love your parasites, now don’t we?”

“Parasite?” Eve stammered confusion marring her features.

“Spike,” Angel commented nonchalantly. “I don’t think Eve wants to play.”

In a flash, Spike was beside the bed, his hand wrapped around Eve’s throat and pinning her back against the mattress. He loomed over her, licking his lips in preparation of a light snack.

“Tell me about the sarcophagus, Bitch, or I’ll tear apart your li’l neck and bloody well enjoy every minute of it,” Spike growled.

“Sa-Sarcophagus? I t-thought you said it was a p-parasite,” Eve gasped out, struggling for breath around the hand constricting steadily about her throat. Spike’s amber eyes narrowed on the woman. He could feel the fear pouring off her in waves, and a part of him believed her.

“A sarcophagus showed up in the lab the other day without warning. No papers. No explanation,” Spike informed her. “Li’l Texan can’t make heads or tails of it. Predates anything we have on record.”

“T-tell Wesley to look in the source books…for texts long forgotten. The oldest scrolls. D-deeper w-well.”

Eve fainted then, the lack of oxygen too much for her body to handle. Spike released his grip, watching her lungs expand as her body automatically gulped in much needed air. His human mask slid back into place as he turned towards Angel.

“Think she’s telling’ the truth?”

“Know of only one way to find out,” Angel ground out, turning abruptly to storm from the room. “And if not--” His voice trailed off, and Spike smiled, quick on his heels. Lorne followed at a much slower pace, unsure about the dark edge to both vampires.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike pushed his way inside Dawn’s hospital room, his face carefully blank. The monitors were obnoxiously loud in his ears, the steady beep mocking as it mimicked his ‘Bit’s heartbeat. Buffy glanced up at his approach and he could see her wavering, the hope that before had been shining bright in her hazel eyes a mere flicker of a dying flame.

“Spike?” she whimpered, rising from her chair and hurling herself into his arms.

His arms slid about her back, drawing her close, his grip almost punishing in its intensity. The rumble from his chest was automatic, anything to soothe his Slayer. His mate.

“Have you…” Her voice trailed off, the question dying on her lips.

“Let’s go outside for a minute, luv.” He felt her nod against his chest, and he stepped back, guiding her towards the door and out into the hallway.

Spike sat her down on one of the chairs, then knelt down in front of her. He told her everything they’d managed to garner from the source books. About Illyria. And how it was using Dawn to make it possible to return to this world. He told her about the Deeper Well, a burial ground for demons, gods.

“Gotta go to England,” he told her. “Rupes and the other…they think we can stop this thing…what it’s doing to the ‘Bit.”

“How--”

“Don’t rightly know. The younger watcher thinks that the guardian of the Well can draw her back, stop what’s bein’ done here.”

“But Dawnie, I can’t…I can’t leave her here.”

“Not askin’ ya to, pet. Me an’ Angel will handle this. Rupert too. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Buffy’s fingers tightened on Spike’s, torn. Part of her wanted to go with him, put a stop to this; her place was by his side, after all, and she wanted to be a part of the destruction he and Angel would wreak upon the Well. The other half felt that to leave her sister’s side would sign her death warrant. She couldn’t leave Dawn here, alone, strangers her only companion as the life was slowly being sucked out of her. She wrapped her arms about his neck as Spike stood, hugging him tight. Panic and vengeance warred within her, making her body shake in his arms. Hands tightened about his back, desperate to draw him closer. She could feel herself slipping, giving into dispair. Tears formed behind closed eyelids to fall onto pale cheeks and beyond…

“Spike,” she whimpered. The demon rumbled within, clawing to be free, sensing the other's weakening stance. Her fingers dug into the supple leather gracing his frame. “Spike,” she whimpered again.

His fangs tore into her neck, hard and unyielding. Buffy mewled at the unexpected pain even as she arched into it, the demon within taking comfort in the brutality of it, the implacable will he extolled over her as her sire. It began to calm in the face of his blatant ownership, cowering from his mastery over her. Yet, oddly comforted by the reassurance of its place in the line, childe yielding sire - as had been done for ages. She could feel her body relaxing and nestled against him. Felt the demon retreat, until it was just Buffy.

Only then did he lift his head, staring down at her with amber-colored eyes that seemed to delve deep within her soul. His mouth was smeared with her blood, blood he refused to wipe clean. He growled at her, and Buffy couldn’t help but look at him with a bit of hurt in her eyes. Her hand lifted unconsciously towards the marks on her neck, trying to feel the damage done there. Another growl stayed her action.

“Leave it,” he growled, his voice low. Sire’s voice.

She stood there, unmoving. Her body frozen in place at his barked command. Her mind whirling with the reasons for his behavior. His next words gave her her answer.

“It’ll mend on its own or I’ll know the reason why…I’ll be back in twenty-four hours.”

He stormed off without a kiss goodbye - if you discounted the bite - without bothering to look back. A master vampire confident his childe would do as he commanded. Buffy smiled then, grateful. And sent up a silent prayer that he’d cowered her demon enough until his return.

~*~*~*~*~

“I should have stayed behind,” Spike muttered as he stood in front of Angel. They’d been in the air for hours, with him mumbling under his breath pacing back and forth in the aisle, until Angel, in a fit of rage, had towered over Spike, halting his progress, and demanded he tell them what was bothering him.

“What is it?” Giles demanded. “Is it--”

Angel glared at the Head Watcher over his shoulder for a moment, causing Giles to frown. But, he closed his mouth and let Spike talk.

“She’s so close to the edge, Sire,” he told Angel, happy, for once, to get his concerns off his chest. “I…I bit her. Hard.”

Angel frowned, but nodded. “Did it work?”

“Dunno.” Spike replied.

“Did what work?” Giles asked at the same time.

The elder vampire turned back towards Giles, perturbed at being interrupted yet again. Giles was leaning forward in his chair, watching them intently as they stood in the aisle.

“Sit down, Will,” Angel grumbled. Spike did like he asked without complaint, surprising the permanent brood off his face for a moment. Angel plopped into the chair beside him. Both vampires regarded Giles, trying to determine how much to tell the watcher.

“Spike has been rather… umm…” The elder vamp struggled to think of a word to describe Spike’s sex life with Buffy and not embarrass either himself or the watcher; Spike, he knew, wouldn’t care either way.

“Bloody hell, Peaches! Gettin' miss-ish in yer old age? It’s like this, Rupes. Buffy’s vampire demon is getting stronger, and it’s only playin’ nice because I’ve exerted myself as her sire. She almost lost it again when I told her I was flyin’ over here to see about this bleedin’ well. I bit her. Harsh like, ‘n told her to leave it till I got back.”

Seeing the watcher’s aghast expression, Angel explained. “It gave her demon something to concentrate on. The threat…” He turned to Spike. “…and I’m assuming you made one.” At Spike’s abrupt nod, he continued. “The threat will hopefully keep her demon concentrated on that task, and fearful of disobeying her sire.”

“Her condition has been deteriorating, and you’re only just now telling me?” Giles demanded.

“’m dealin’ with it,” Spike barked back, leaning forward in his chair.

“Right bloody lot ’o good that’s doin’!”

Spike did his best to maintain his glare with his fellow Englishman, really, he did. But, his lips twitched, causing the watcher’s own to lift as well. Then they both were laughing, causing Angel to wonder when the punch line had been delivered.

“Right bloody lot ‘o good that’s doin’,” Spike mimicked, sending both men into another round of laughter.

“Wanker.”

“Git.”

Angel just rolled his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation.

~*~*~*~*~

“I say. Do you think now’s the time to be holding hands?” Giles split his gaze between the two vampires and the demons boring down on them as they exited from a door in the truck of the huge tree.

“Might want to stand behind me, Rupes,” Spike called out.

The demons were just seconds away, and Giles jumped behind the blond-headed vampire as the line - he’d only just noticed - held between the two was pulled taut. He gazed in slack-jawed amazement as two demons were beheaded right before his eyes, neither vampire sparing the decapitated corpses a glance as, just made for their discarded weapons flung some distance from the bodies. It was a good thing too, because they were suddenly set upon by more. Giles tried to stay out of the way of the fight, backpedaling when a pair of combatants drew near.

The hard grip on his shoulder nearly shocked the life out of him. Slowly, he swiveled his head around, cringing at what he might find.

“Is that all? We haven’t even started!” Angel shouted in the distance, having slain the last demon in the field.

“I’d say that’s enough,” the man holding him announced. Though he’d not raised his voice, it was easily heard.

“Let ’im go, you bloody pillock, or I’ll slash you to bits and smile while I do it,” Spike growled, his eyes narrowed on the man standing behind Giles.

“Friends of yours?” the man asked of the watcher.

“Er… Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

“Drogyn.” Angel's voice was low. The barked greeting causing the man standing behind Giles to nod his head in acknowledgment.

“Angel.”

“You’re the keeper of the Well.” It was not a question.

“I don’t care who he is, but if he doesn’t take his hands off the watcher there, he’s gonna find them gone missing.” Spike extended the sword held in his hand, pointing it in Drogyn’s direction.

“It’s all right, Will,” Angel told him, even as Drogyn released his hold on Giles.

“You’re here about Illyria.”

“Yes,” Angel replied.

“Follow me then.” Drogyn turned around and started toward the huge tree, and the entrance to the Deeper Well.

“How--” Spike began.

Angel shook his head, cautioning the younger vamp to silence, and followed after the Well’s guardian. Spike bit off a retort and fell into step behind Angel, Giles close on his heels.

As they began their descent, Drogyn told the three about Illyria, and how her sarcophagus had disappeared a month past.

“It’s been missing over a month and you’re just now noticing? What kind of crap--” The incredulous tone wasn’t lost on the guardian.

“Spike,” Angel growled in warning, cutting him off. “He does have a point though,” he added, turning to Drogyn. “The man I remember couldn’t be stolen from so easily.”

“The tomb wasn’t stolen, it disappeared. And, as for my not noticing…” He gestured over the railing and towards the hole. Thousands upon thousands of sarcophagi were imbedded in the circular wall that extended as far as the eye could see. “…my charges are not few.”

“How far down?” Angel asked.

“All the way to the other side,” Drogyn replied.

“But it was brought to us. I don’t understand--” Angel told him.

“Illyria was a great power. So great, in fact, that its acolytes still roam the Earth.”

“I’ll soddin’ well dismember every last one of ‘em.”

“As much as I’ve enjoyed this history lesson, it doesn’t tell us how to get this…this Illyria out of Dawn and back into her sarcophagus,” Giles finally interrupted.

“She’s been freed?” Drogyn demanded, pinning the watcher with a look.

“I think we’ve covered that, yeah. Why the bloody hell do you think we’re here?”

“Spike,” Angel growled again in warning.

“No! We’ve catered to ‘im long enough. It’s time for some answers. Time’s a’wastin’ and I’ll not have the ‘Bit die because Drogy-boy’s got his knickers in a twist.”

Drogyn sighed. “The power to draw back Illyria lies in there. It requires a champion who has traveled from where it lies to where it belongs.”

“And we look like what?”

“Champions,” Drogyn answered. If Spike thought the comment odd, he didn’t answer. “I didn't know it was free. If we bring the sarcophagus back to the Well, it will draw Illyria out of your… ’Bit... and into every single person between here and there. It will become the mystical equivalent of airborne. It will claw into every soul in its path to keep from being trapped. Entire cities…tens maybe hundreds of thousands will die in agony if you save her.”

“No,” Spike whispered, aghast.

“Oh, dear lord.”

“I don’t care,” Angel told the guardian, surprising his two companions.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy stared at the monitors, listened as the steady beep got slower and slower. She knew her sister was dying. The stench of death assaulted her nostrils, making her want to rage at whatever was doing this to Dawn. She could feel the gaping wound on her neck. Concentrated on the pain to keep her focused.

Dawn’s eyes opened suddenly, and Buffy was out of the chair in an instant, sitting on the side of the bed and drawing her sister up into her arms.

“Buffy?” The voice was faint, and if she’d not had enhanced hearing, Buffy doubted she would have heard her.

“I’m here, Dawnie,” she whispered, choking back a sob while gently rocking her sister in her arm. “I’m here.”

“Don’t… don’t leave…Cold…”

Her voice trailed off, and her body began to spasm. The force of it knocked Buffy off the side of the bed, to land with a thud on the floor. The machines were whining as Dawn’s vitals skyrocketed, then plummeted…then shot back up again. The rails on either side of the bed jangled loudly as Dawn’s body continued to convulse.

Buffy rushed back to her sister, screaming for help. For somebody to come and make it stop. The noise. Her sister’s fit. All of it. She climbed back up on the bed, trying to calm Dawn, whispering words of love and encouragement. Commanding her to hang on, that Spike and Angel would fix everything.

The blow, when it came this time, sent Buffy hurtling towards the far wall. She shook her head, dazed, climbing unsteadily to her feet. Her gaze narrowed on the empty mattress, and she threw off the dizziness pervading her body to rush towards the empty bed.

The lack of heartbeat, the smell of nothingness, went unheeded by the Slayer. She skirted the foot of the bed, and took in the scene upon the floor. Her sister lay unmoving, her body nothing more than a gray stone slab in the shape of her sister. She watched with dispassionate eyes as life was slowly poured back into the body, the skin taking on a bluish hue as Illyria made itself at home. It stood, completely disregarding her presence, its eyes taking in the new vessel, its means of existing in this world.

The thing bearing Dawn’s face smirked then, it’s head cocked to one side.

“This’ll do.”

And Buffy saw red.

Then nothing, as the vampire demon completely obliterated her presence, shoving her so deep inside herself, she didn’t notice a thing as she tore out of the room, her face a mask of demonic rage. Didn’t taste the sweet human blood of the first person she encountered - a nurse - when she tore into her neck and drank her fill. Didn’t hear the whimsical laughter, scent the smell of family as it drew near, beckoning her out into the night.

To feed.

To wreak havoc upon the City of Angels.

She was too far gone, in a vegetative state at the loss of her sister.

~*~*~*~*~

Angel caught Spike as he let out an anguished cry and nearly collapsed to the ground.

“Spike!” the elder vamp called out. “Will! What is it? What’s happened?”

“Buffy…oh god no…we’re too late.”

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