Never Alone Again

Chapter 7

With the Slayer held in his arms, Spike moved off after Daniel.  His pace was slow, unhurried, as if it didn’t matter to him that mini-explosions were occurring all around him.  What did it really matter if he escaped anyway?  The Slayer was dead, her lifeless body draped over his arms, her arms and legs dangling uselessly as he walked onward. 

Daniel glanced back over his shoulder at the morose vampire.  He’d like to tell him that the Slayer wasn’t really dead.  That she couldn’t really die anymore – thanks to Sheila.  But, first he had to get them to safety.  The timed charges he and his other imprisoned brethren had set were going off, working at the support structures of the Order’s stronghold.  They needed to get out of there… and fast! 

“Come on!” 

The vampire continued his ambling gait, oblivious to him, and everything else going on. 

“Dammit, Spike!  She’s not dead.  But if you keep this up, you will be.  Now let’s go.”   

Unfortunately, an explosion sounded, and none of Daniel’s yelled explanation was heard by the vampire.  Disgusted, he stalked back towards Spike, wasting precious time to explain things to him. 

“Spike.  Look at me.  Buffy. Is. Not. Dead.  Her body is in stasis.  She can’t—” 

Spike’s head jerked up.  Anger.  Hope.  Fear.  It was all there in his eyes for Daniel to see. 

“Now… before you rip my head off… I couldn’t tell you.  Hell, would you just come on before this building caves in on us. I promise, I’ll explain what I can…only…once we’re on the outside.  Now, come on!” 

Daniel turned on his heel and took off running.  He hazarded a glance of his shoulder and was pleased to see the vampire right behind him.  They raced through the servant’s passageway as the deafening explosions got louder and louder.  Some of the walls were starting to buckle and chunks of stone fell to the ground in front of them.  The pair easily vaulted the rubble blocking their escape route.  Cries of panic were coming from up ahead, the servants desperate to escape before they were buried alive.  Daniel and Spike quickly gained on the group and wormed their way through the throng until Daniel found the secret passage he was looking for. 

He pushed a hidden lever and gestured for Spike to precede him through the entrance, then followed behind.  He didn’t bother resealing the door, the others milling behind him in a panic could follow if they wanted.  The short passage led to sleeping quarters once assigned to the male Q’lathnyack demons.  The two raced down the length of the chamber and out through another door into a main lobby.   

The ceiling was starting to cave, but neither paid it any mind as they bolted across the room towards the door that would lead them to safety. 

~*~ 

Buffy’s eyes snapped open.  Disoriented, she tried to figure out where she was.  Her whole body hurt, and the constant jarring wasn’t helping matters.  She moaned in pain and felt herself start to free-fall as whatever had been holding her loosened its grip.  But the sensation was gone a second later, her body cradled protectively once more. 

Still drained, she relaxed against the hard wall of the person carrying her, her cheek lying flush against some soft, unrecognizable material.  She inhaled deeply before sleep pulled her back towards its restorative slumber, oddly comforted by the faint trace of cigarette smoke that teased her nostrils.  As her body relaxed once more, her mind conjured up an image of her protector. 

Spike. 

~*~ 

Spike’s grip on the Slayer tightened when he heard his name whispered from her lips.  Knowing that he had to be hurting her, he forced himself to relax his stranglehold as he hurried across the room and escaped outside.  The cool night air washed over his senses, the distant screams of others still clamoring to get out of the crumbling building floated on the slight breeze; he glanced up and down the Order’s crumbling stronghold to see others fleeing to safety. 

“This way,” Daniel urged, guiding them around the structure’s perimeter towards three trucks and a fairly large group gathering near them.   

Spike paused upon spying the other demons, but Daniel’s assurance that they were friends got him moving once again.  He felt their eyes on him and watched warily as they shifted their gaze between him and the Slayer – his body instinctively tensed in preparation. 

“Everyone, this is Spike…and the Slayer.” 

The demons began quietly murmuring amongst themselves, and Spike picked up faint traces of, “It’s him,” and, “He’s the one.” 

A stray arrow came out of nowhere and imbedded itself in the hood of one of the vehicles, effectively silencing the group.  Spike ducked, shielding Buffy as he went.  The males of the bunch separated to race after the sniper.  The woman and children – that Spike just now noticed – plastered themselves against the surface of the trucks and instantly “disappeared.” 

‘That’s just bloody great!’  

Another arrow whizzed through the air, aimed towards Spike since he was the only visible target remaining.  He dodged it and raced around to the other side of the vehicle, using it as a shield.  Spike hated the uncertainty of kneeling there behind the truck, allowing others to see to the threat to both him and the Slayer, but there was no way he was going to leave her right now to take care of the matter himself.  The minutes seemed to tick by interminably before he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.  He rose up until the top of his head peeked over the front hood and breathed a sigh of relief at the Q’lathnyacks return. 

“It’s alright,” Daniel called out as he neared, and one by one, the women and children separated themselves from the trucks and became visible once more. 

“Are you alright,” the demon asked as he stopped before Spike. 

“Yeah…friends of yours?” he asked, referring to the dead assassins that had been targeting them.

Daniel snorted.   

“Not anymore.  Come on.  Let’s get you inside the truck before the sun rises and turns you into a crispy critter.  There’s blankets and pillows inside for the Slayer.” 

“About that…” 

“Later.” 

Spike’s eyes narrowed menacingly, but he held back a growl and got in the truck.  There’d be plenty of time to get the answers he wanted.  And he would get them too, even if he had to sit on Daniel to make the demon talk. 

“Come on, luv.  Let’s get you settled, yeah?” he murmured to the sleeping girl in his arms. 

He walked around to the back of the truck and jumped up into the bed.  Others were already huddled in clusters inside, but Spike could see that a place had been made for him.  With his body slightly hunched over so that his head didn’t scrape against the canvas top, he gingerly stepped over bodies and made his way towards the pallet that had been created for the Slayer. 

Spike set Buffy down on the piled blankets, his senses in tune to pick up her slightest whimper of pain.  He grabbed one of the folded blankets next to him and covered her from neck to feet, so that only her head was visible.  Then, paying the others no mind, he stretched out behind her and drew her back into his arms.  She didn’t let out so much as a peep, just slept on, oblivious to those that stared. 

Sleep for Spike was another matter entirely.  He didn’t completely trust the demons sandwiched in the back of the truck with him and the Slayer, even though the majority of them were women and children.  He tuned his mind out to their soft, hesitant smiles, his defenses on high alert in case they should try and catch him off guard. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

They traveled the length of the daylight hours, and though Spike could feel the pull of sleep, his exhausted body lulled by the ambling rhythm of the truck, he dared not rest.  The last time he’d not remained vigilant, the Slayer had been badly hurt; he’d not have a repeat occurrence if it was in his power to do so. 

Not when he’d just been given the gift of her return. 

No, he maintained his stoic expression for the others crammed in the back of the truck, keeping them at a distance with his defensive manner.  Growling reflexively if one of the demons near him shifted too close.  Surprisingly, they took his manner in stride, offering a smile in apology and giving him the space he felt he needed. 

The vehicles finally rolled to a stop sometime after dusk.  The women and children, their faces worn and tired throughout the seemingly endless journey, came alive as they rose to clamor out of the bed of the truck.   

Spike sat up and gathered the Slayer close.  At the edge of the truck, he paused to glance at the surrounding scenery.  They’d been steadily climbing the last hour and he took in the sloping hills they’d traveled over to reach the small mountain range.  A few campfires were being lit by some of the male Q’lathnyacks and Spike noticed the caves that the women were leading the children towards. 

He hopped off the back of the truck and was relieved when he saw a familiar face approaching.  True, not one of the Q’lathnyacks had bothered him, but he was still on edge. 

“What’s this?” he asked as Daniel drew near. 

“Home.  We Q’lathnyacks were a simply species before being enslaved by the Order.  We’ve lived in these mountains for eons.  You and the Slayer will be safe here.  You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” 

“Safe?  Sure, I took out that bastard Sylam, but there are others…” 

“It’s being taken care of.” 

Spike nodded.  After what their race had endured, he didn’t doubt the males would be out seeking a bit of retribution. 

“Come on.  I’ll show you where you can sleep.” 

Daniel led the vampire through the labyrinth of passageways tucked inside the mountain and Spike had to wonder at the other demon’s uncanny sense of direction.  Hell, the only way he’d be able to get out of there was by employing his sensitive nose – and even that wasn’t a given to his success.  The convoluted tunnels were a natural defense in their own right, and caused Spike to wonder how they’d been caught in the first place.  He asked as much of the demon. 

“Just unlucky, I guess.”  His tone of voice made it clear that the subject was a touchy matter, and Spike let it drop. 

“Here,” Daniel pointed, gesturing to an arched doorway.  A bolt of cloth had been hastily strung to provide them some privacy.  Daniel lifted the curtain and waved them in.  Inside, he noticed that one of his people had brought in a pallet and placed it against the far wall like he’d requested.  “If you need anything else, let me know.” 

Daniel moved to leave the two alone, but Spike stopped his hasty exit. 

“Oh no you don’t.  You’re gonna tell me what the hell just went on back there,” he growled at the departing demon.  He still held the Slayer in his arms, but it would be a simple matter of setting her down and going after Daniel if the demon tried to leave.  Spike thought he’d damn well been patient enough.  He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.  “And don’t even think about disappearin’, cuz right about now, I’ll grab the nearest brat ‘n—” 

Daniel turned around and looked incredulous at the vampire.  He knew it was a bluff; deep down in his heart, he knew.  But, taking in Spike’s demeanor you’d never be able to tell. 

“You don’t have to threaten—” 

Spike cut him off.   

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get some answers.” 

Daniel sighed and walked further into the room and sat on the floor – the room had yet to be supplied with any other furniture.  His actions seemed to set the vampire at ease, and he laid the Slayer down on the pallet and sat down next to her. 

“It was Sheila’s doing,” he began, eyes fixed on the wall and not on Spike. 

“The healer?” 

“She’s no ordinary healer.  You have to understand she’s… A vampire killed her parents.  One of the Order’s assassins.  See…Sylam had learned of a special healer.  One that could heal mortal wounds.  But not only that.  She had a special gift.  A gift that he’d do anything to possess.  Immortality.”  He whispered the last.  His eyes closed in memory of that fateful day.  Of the girl that had drawn his blood as she’d fought to break free of his grip and return to her parents.  “I couldn’t save her parents and neither could she.  They were already dead, but she didn’t know that at the time.  I managed to spirit her away and keep her hidden from the Order.  She was only five, Spike.  A five-year-old girl that knew nothing of the evils of men or demons, forced, like me, to live in exile.” 

Daniel opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the vampire. 

“I knew she was capable of healing your Slayer, but I wasn’t sure if she would do it.  She’s grown into a mature young woman, but the hate is still there.  I was counting on her hate for Sylam to override her repugnance at helping a vampire.” 

“It worked,” the soft, melodic voice sounded from the doorway. 

Spike was off his butt and crouched protectively in front of the Slayer before Daniel could gain his feet and gasp out Sheila’s name.  He growled as the witch started into the room, fearful that she’d come to undo the magic that had been done to the Slayer. 

“Sheila!  What are you doing here?  How—” 

“Do you honestly think I didn’t know of your home, Daniel?  All those secret trips you made up here?” 

Daniel flushed slightly at her censure.   

“I was going to come get you once I had everyone settled.” 

“I got tired of waiting.  Besides, I wanted to meet the vampire that freed me from my self-imposed prison.”  She turned away from the Q’lathnyack demon to look down at the vampire guarding the sleeping girl.   

“You told me, and I saw the marks firsthand, but I wouldn’t have believed it without seeing for myself,” she commented to Daniel, her narrowed gaze never leaving the dark-haired vampire.  “You can stop, you know.  I’m not going to hurt her.  And, I can’t take back what I’ve done, even if I wanted to, so you’ve nothing to fear there.” 

“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe you,” Spike snarked back, staring hard at the cloaked figure standing beside the Q’lathnyack demon. 

“It’s true,” Daniel added.  “It’s why—” 

“It’s why I healed her.  If you thought her death would release you from your claim, you’re wrong.  You’re stuck with her now,” she sneered. “Forever.” 

If the witch thought that was going to upset him, she was in for a long wait.  A smile came unbidden to his lips, causing her to frown, but he’d already turned away from the two and gazed down at the slumbering Slayer so didn’t see.  

“He loves her,” Daniel murmured to the astonished girl at his side.   

“Love?  What kind of vampire is he?” she asked, confusion evident on her features. 

“I don’t know, Sheila.  But, it was how he was finally able to bring down the Order.  Now come.  Let leave these two alone and let me introduce you to the others.” 

The two quickly departed, pulling the curtain in front of the entrance as they walked out.

~*~ 

Spike reached out his hand, allowing his fingers to ghost over Buffy’s face.  His anxiety as to the Slayer’s fate eased and he could feel his body start to shut down – recognizing the haven for what it was.  After the past week of being on edge, the anguish that had been Buffy’s death, and the energy-draining battle with Sylam afterwards…only to be followed up by spending the entire day on constant alert as he watched over her, Spike was ready to sink to the pallet beside the Slayer and sleep for a solid forty-eight hours.  He told himself he couldn’t, though. That he needed to stay awake and keep an eye on her. 

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t hold her while he did that. 

He shrugged out of his duster and lay down behind her so that his back was against the wall.  Careful, so as no to wake her, he pulled her back against his chest allowing her head to rest upon his arm.  Her breathy sigh warmed someplace inside him he’d thought had withered and died with the death of his sire.  She seemed to melt into him, like she knew exactly who held her.  He nuzzled her hair and bestowed a kiss to her neck, causing her to moan slightly in her sleep.  And he stopped, lest he wake her. 

Daniel hadn’t said how long she’d need to regain her strength, and he didn’t want to rush her recovery.  They had all the time in the world, now.  He rested his head on the pillow and kept his eyes trained on the door, determined to look after her until she’d woken. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Buffy’s hunger pulled her from a deep slumber…that, and a desperate need to relieve herself.  Laying there, her eyes still closed, she had to smile at the vampire behind her.  Both of his arms were wrapped around her, and for added measure, he’d thrown one of his legs over hers.  There was no way she was getting up without waking him. 

Well, she thought that, until she turned in his arms and he didn’t flinch.  She knew he wasn’t faking either.  His body was deathly still, a state only achieved when the vamp was in deep slumber.  Any other time and his restless energy would give him away.   

She brushed her lips against his, and frowned when he didn’t move.  He must be really tired if he hadn’t even stirred.  The demands of her bladder made themselves known again – she really had to go.  Reluctantly, she pulled away and got to her feet.  She could hear the sounds of activity coming from the other side of the curtain.  Her inbred warning system lay quiet.  Whatever was on the other side wasn’t a danger to her, or Spike.  That, plus the fact that he’d fallen asleep in their presence, persuaded her to step outside their room. 

Men, women, and children were rushing around in what appeared to be some type of cave.  Lighted torches were placed about the open area providing much-needed light.  No one seemed to pay her any mind as she ventured further from Spike.  Yet, she’d taken only a handful of steps when she felt a hand on her shoulder.  She jerked around, her body in attack mode, and gasped when she saw the familiar face of the Q’lathnyack demon. 

“Daniel!  You scared me half to death!” 

“Uh, sorry.”  He looked a bit sheepish, and she smiled to soften her outburst.  “Was there something you needed?” 

Her stomach chose that moment to make her hunger known. 

“Hungry?” he asked.  “You have been out of it for quite some time.” 

“Some food would be nice, but a bathroom would be better.  Though, by the looks of things, I’m going to be squatting in some corner, huh?” 

Daniel grinned.  “We’re not as archaic as we seem.  Our people have been—” 

“Daniel?  Bathroom.  Now.” 

Daniel stopped one of the women as she made to pass.  “Mela, can you show Buffy to the women’s rooms.” 

“Certainly.  If you’ll follow me?” 

The secluded room she was led to wasn’t the Ritz by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn’t a hole in the ground either.  Grateful, she hurried away from the demon and took care of her needs.  When she reemerged a few minutes later, the woman was still there. 

“Would you like a bath as well?” 

“A bath?  You’re kidding right?  I’d kill for a bath right now!” 

The woman backed up a few spaces, an expression of horror on her face. 

“No, no, no!” Buffy rushed to assure her.  “It’s a…I wouldn’t really…I’m just surprised you have a means…” 

She could see the confusion on her face, and Buffy grumbled to herself,  “Way to stick your foot into your mouth, Buffy.” 

The woman giggled and Buffy smiled. 

“A bath would be perfect.  You wouldn’t, by chance, have a change of clothes, would you?” 

“I think I could find something, yes.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Buffy spent the next thirty minutes in the hot water springs hidden deeper within the room.  The water had taken a minute to get used to, but the heat felt good on her aching body.  As she’d soaked, her mind had gone over everything that had happened at the Order’s stronghold.  She remembered being run through with the sword, and had felt herself going cold as her life had slowly slipped away.  She remembered looking up into Spike’s eyes, seeing the disbelief and anguish in them as he’d caught her. 

The next thing she’d remembered was waking up in his arms earlier. 

She’d looked down at her chest and there’d been no evidence of a wound.  It was like it had never happened. 

When Mela came back with a change of clothes and a towel, Buffy forced herself to get out of the water.  She dried off quickly and slipped into the borrowed clothes.  Her stomach made its need for food known a moment later, growling loud enough that everyone within the cave probably heard it.  She draped her towel over a rock and walked out of the women’s room.  

People were still busy milling around, trying to bring order to the place.  Though the cave was obviously inhabited, given the condition of the place, it had been awhile since anyone had lived there.  The men were carting out broken and irreparable items; the women were busy cleaning and…Buffy breathed in deeply…cooking.  Her mouth started to water at the scent and she hurried in the direction she thought it was coming from.   

In another room, several pitted fires were covered with assorted meats.  Her eyes glazed over at all the food in front of her. 

“Here.  Have a piece of fruit,” Daniel offered as he walked up beside her.  “Should tide you over until some of the other stuff’s finished cooking.  Where’s Spike?” 

Buffy took the fruit out of his hand and seemed to devour it in a few bites.  She was still hungry, but the juicy treat had taken the edge off her hunger.  “Still sleeping… what happened?” she asked around a mouthful of food. 

“He didn’t tell you?” 

“No.”  She swallowed the last bite down.  “He must be really tired.  Did he…did he kill him?  Sylam?” 

“Yeah.  Then I, along with a few others, set charges to the building and reduced it to a pile of rubble.  The Order’s been decimated.  Thanks to you two.” 

“Well, I didn’t do much.  If I remember right, I was skewered with a sword.  So, why is it that I’m not dead?” 

“That would be my doing.” 

Buffy turned around to see a woman walking towards them.  She was about ten years her senior and stood a head taller, but the woman’s unlined face wasn’t what gave her away.  It was her eyes.  The unnatural green shade couldn’t hide the pain and suffering she’d endured. 

“I know you,” Buffy replied. 

“I’m surprised you remember,” Sheila commented.  “You were in a lot of pain and barely alive when you were brought to me.” 

“You’re the one that fixed me.  After…after the…” 

“The whip?  Yes.  That was me.  But fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, I don’t just heal people.” 

“Sheila’s not just a healer, Buffy.  She gifts them with immortality,” Daniel explained. 

“So what?  I’m like, never going to die?” 

“Never going to get old.  Never going to die.  Though your body feels like hell when someone tries.  But, each time it gets better.  The healing comes faster,” Sheila confirmed. 

“It was how Spike was able to defeat Sylam,” Daniel told her.  “He had to believe you’d died in order to defeat him.” 

“He did?” 

“She didn’t know?” Sheila asked Daniel. 

“Know?” Buffy asked.  “Know what?  Obviously I didn’t if I’m asking.”  Her gaze flicked from one to the other, waiting for an answer. 

“He tried to protect her,” Sheila murmured. 

“I told you this already, Sheila,” Daniel commented wryly. 

“Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?” 

“Spike could only defeat Sylam if he gave up everything to obtain his goal.  You were his everything, Slayer.  When you…died…Buffy, you were the last tangible thing he had on this earth.  After Spike finally killed him and walked back to you?  He was broken.  He knelt down by your side and pulled you into his lap.  He was going to just stay there and let the walls come down on him as he wallowed in his grief.” 

Buffy couldn’t listen to any more.  Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears and she turned and raced back to the room she and Spike shared.   

He loved her.  Her stubborn, brash, evil, and thoroughly sexy vampire loved her.  She wasn’t sure about their plans for the future – where they’d go, what they’d do.  All she did know was that she wasn’t letting him out of her sight.

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