Come Back to Me
by Spikesdeb
Chapter 22
“What? What's begun? Already – where? Cordy?” Fred halted on her way out of the door and spun back to face her friend, the Power's envoy.
Cordy’s blank white eyes reverted to their usual hue and she straightened her skirt and sat down.
“The trials,” she said coolly. “They’ve started.”
Puzzled looks shot round the group as they all waited expectantly for more information; it didn’t arrive.
“And...?”
"What? That's all I know; really! Whatever form the trials are taking, they have begun."
"Well how long are they going to last?"
Wes tilted his head, rubbing his stubbled chin as he posed the question. He was completely at sea now, having been unable to unearth the slightest inkling of what was happening, past what they already knew. He’d been counting on Cordy to enlighten them but it seemed that she wasn’t being very forthcoming.
"I've really no idea, guys. I’m just the messenger, trust me – you know as much as I do. Hell, how long have I been out of the loop for god’s sake? I’m doing my best here!” she protested. “But since the trials have actually begun, I do have a teeny tiny suggestion."
"And that is?" Gunn, ever the practical lawyer guy lately, had a pad open and pen poised for instructions.
"You're gonna need a church or sacred ground where you can perform the ritual. Oh, and a particular dagger – du Lac or something…also the form of words to chant. Sorry – I guess I should’ve mentioned that part before."
Wes blinked at her., just a few things, then. Thankfully, he was in the one place in LA where he could actually pick up the phone and come up with the goods.
"No problem, Cordelia. I'll be back in twenty minutes."
+ + + + +
In the bowels of the city, a shape coalesced in the dim light then solidified. Her long dress was scarlet and black, and of antique style. Her heart-shaped face was pale next to her jet black hair and golden eyes flicked across the dank walls as she smoothed her skirts and accustomed herself to her surroundings.
A sewer.
Wasn't the first time she'd found herself in a sewer but she'd never actually materialised in one before. The last thing she could remember was reclining on a satin couch, the remains of her meal cooling at her feet as she lay back and dreamed of days gone by. Of Angelus, her sire. Of Darla, her sometime friend and latterly her childe.
And of Spike.
Sweet Willie. Though the last time she'd seen him, he'd been pitiful – couldn’t even bite. She’d tempted him to feed with a freshly-killed girl and believed he would be hers once more. But no – that nasty little Slayer had stuck her nose in where it had no business and he’d turned on his princess, rejecting her cool embrace for the sickeningly warm arms of that stupid creature. It had stung; if anyone was to do the rejecting it should have been her, and he should have been grateful for every kick and bite she gave him as punishment. But he'd gone his own way and she hadn't seen him since.
Of course, she knew about the destruction of Sunnydale and the demise of the First Evil. She'd even sensed Spike's second death and had mourned his passing with some verses of dreadful poetry to accompany the traditional keening and shredding of clothes.
But she'd survived, as she'd survived Darla's death at Angelus' hand and before that his abandonment of them for the powers of good - not to mention her sire's setting fire to her and Darla. Daddy was very clever, always creative in his torture. She missed him.
Drusilla tensed. She could sense Angelus here, felt him near her and surrounding her and mixing up her head. And was that Spike flitting in and out of her consciousness? But he was surely gone forever. She was so confused, alone in the dark without Miss Edith.
Daintily gathering her skirts in her hands, she moved along the tunnels, her feet sloshing the filthy water and disturbing rats and bugs.
“Where’s my daddy?” she muttered. “Daddy always makes it right.”
+ + + + +
Angel stirred in his physical and magical restraints, his eyes opening and struggling to focus. He struggled to sit up, groggy and disorientated, his head throbbing. And he was ravenous. He felt like he hadn't eaten for a week.
Faith nudged Gunn, the two of them and Cordy the only ones left now that Wes had gone to his office and Fred had left to get Spike.
"The boss is waking up."
Gunn chuckled, a sour sound. "Don't know who the fuck he is, but he's not the boss of me. I don't know him at all."
Angel's voice croaked across the space between him and the wary warriors. "I am your worst nightmare, friend. And once I’m free, I'll remind you how to show me proper respect."
Gunn's angry reply was cut off by a more strident voice.
"Yeah, well. That might be a while, mate. Kinda like the look you’re sporting right now; you know, bound and helpless. Reminds me of days long past. Course, it was usually me in the chains but still – memories."
"Spike."
"Angel." Spike spoke softly, his voice rising slightly at the end of his grandsire's name in a mocking tone. He stepped into the room to stand before the bound vampire, Buffy's hand gripped in his own. She was hurting him, so tightly were her fingers entwined with his, and her heart was racing. He hadn't wanted her to come, had tried to persuade her to stay with Dawn, but instead she'd seized Fred by the shoulders and sat her down in the chair next to Dawn's bed. Fred tried to protest but at the glint in Buffy's eyes she'd backed down and avoided looking at Spike. It was impossible to argue with a determined Slayer.
So Buffy was clamped to his side and not likely to leave him anytime soon. He could live with that. Since she'd arrived in Dawn's room and sworn that she wouldn't let him leave her, he'd allowed himself to believe in a happy ending; he'd slay the monster, or rather, in this case, save the bloody monster – again – and get the girls. Buffy’s faith in him was enough to give him hope and he'd take all he could get of that, thank you very much.
Chains clinked as Angel got to his feet and swayed, his undecided friends taking an unconscious step backwards despite Willow's magical barrier.
Angel chuckled, a snide, dead sound. "You're right to be afraid. Whatever was I thinking letting you tame me like that? Well, happy to say that's all done with now. What's next?"
"I am."
Spike moved closer, Buffy beside him. "I'm your worst nightmare, Angel. You like this feeling of freedom, don't you? This not giving a toss for anything but number one. I get that - but would you just listen to yourself! Poor old Bela Lugosi must be turning in his grave. I’ve heard better lines in crappy B-movies. What’s happened to all the Oh-woe-is-me bloody boohooing? You’ve been wallowing in it ever since you got your miserable soul stuffed back in. But now that doesn’t seem able to hold you back and true to form you’re reverting to the same sick bastard you always were. You were cursed with the soul for a reason – to make you suffer. Well guess what, Peaches, I'm here to make sure it sticks."
Angel growled, Buffy moving to stand protectively in front of her lover.
"No, love. This is mine to do. Go on now, let me. Please."
Buffy turned to him, flinging her arms around him and hugging him to her. She whispered against his chest, Spike barely catching her words but understanding her anyway. He raised her face and kissed her deeply, smiling into her eyes as he pulled away.
"Mine" she stated, eyes defiant.
"Yours."
The moment was broken by Angel chortling, "Oh pass the sick bag will you - there’ll be violins next. William the Bloody, what’s become of you? Do you really think she's worth a second go? Can you imagine being tied to that airhead for eternity? Good luck with that one, Willyboy."
Buffy turned to face Angel, but as she looked at him the fury melted away. He was truly pathetic. And why the hell the Powers wanted him to be saved was beyond her. Had he always been so manipulative and full of himself? Try as she might, she could see nothing of the Angel she'd loved with all her young heart so long ago. She pitied him and despised him in equal measure.
She took a step closer, releasing Spike's hand and fixing Angel with cold, green eyes.
"Spike's right. You do deserve to suffer. I'll back off from this one because the Powers need a champion and nobody deserves that title more than Spike. But know this; I’m not going to forget what you've done to Dawn, and to me. And to Spike. So when this little party’s over, you'd better hope you end up a long, long way away from me because I promise you if either Spike or Dawn are taken from me, I will make you pay, soul or no soul. Understand?"
"Oooh, promises, promises. Here’s hoping you make it hurt in all the right places, Buffy, 'cause I’m positive you must have learned some tricks since you know when! Gotta tell you, kiddo, that was like amateur night at the massage parlour."
"Oh, whatever. Cordy – let’s get on with it. I'm getting a little trigger happy and I'm not sure how much longer I can put up with that." She thumbed over her shoulder at the restrained Angel and stomped away to stand in front of Cordelia.
"The trials have already begun, Buffy."
"What's that? When did that happen, what are they playing at?" Spike strode towards her, puzzled and irritated. That was typical... just like the Fuckers That Be to mess with a body without them even knowing.
Cordy’s eyes closed, her lids fluttering as she communed with the Powers. She smiled before she spoke. "It seems that your first trial was to want to continue your existence, Spike. You left this room willing to die; now it seems you've chosen to live. You've passed the first trial."
Spike grinned. "Well that was a piece of piss! What's next? Walking in a straight line?"
Suddenly alarms blared throughout the building, the sound uncomfortable to everybody but agony to the vamps. Wolfram and Hart had been breached by an unknown vampire.
Wesley burst through the doors, followed swiftly by Giles and Willow who shut the door behind her and leaned against it.
"Jeez - what is it?" Faith asked, already searching for a stake. "What's the racket about?"
Wesley's face was grim as he came to a halt in front of Angel, the vampire's eyes lighting with recognition as he sensed who'd set off the alarm. Wes spoke the name aloud.
"Drusilla."
Spike swore, the words drowned out by Angel's delighted laughter as he crooned in triumph. "Oh, sweet Drusilla, angel of my lifetime – answers to all answers I can find...!"
+ + + + +
Drusilla crouched, vamped and hissing, surrounded by the dead and wounded who'd dared try to stop her. She'd made her way up from the sewers, following the tug of familial blood that drew her unerringly, and had entered through a basement access. Once she crossed the threshold, sirens rent the air and felled her to her knees, pain piercing her head. She was on the floor then when the first blow came but she blocked the stake as it descended and slashed the guard's throat, spinning to face her other attacker. He soon joined his companion in death, his neck snapped as the sound of running feet had her preparing for another onslaught.
All in all, she'd taken down ten men and was fending off more when the mystics arrived and cast a spell to knock her out. They were reluctant to do anything more until they'd checked with Angel, their second sight revealing the mark of his lineage on her. Beckoning more reluctant security personnel forward to bind the unconscious vampire, the mystics scurried off to scry and cast magicks before Angel could descend on them demanding answers.
+ + + + +
"Drusilla? That loon? What's that about?" Faith did a passable imitation of Dawn Summers in petulant teen mode, hands on hips and eyes wild. "Well, we go find her and stake her – problem solved."
Buffy dared a glimpse at Spike's face, steeling herself to see a lingering affection for his lover of over one hundred years. But there was nothing; maybe a smidgeon of pity and some sober reflection. But no love. That was hers alone. She let her breath out slowly, unaware that she'd been holding it. Spike tilted his head and smiled at her, knowing full well what she was thinking.
The days when Drusilla had been his entire world were long gone, and he'd never regretted for one minute choosing Buffy over her, despite the kickings and fights he'd gone through to get her. She was worth that, she was worth everything.
Wes, Giles and Faith were discussing how to deal with Drusilla, Angel offering snide comments and taunts as he listened. It seemed that she'd just entered via the basement and Wesley had been notified as per standing orders when any unauthorised demons or mystical beings entered the premises. He'd dispatched the mystics and extra security with instructions to report directly to him and then gone in search of Giles before heading back to the group. Willow had caught up with them as they were hurrying back and he'd soon brought her up to speed.
Buffy didn't want to be the one to stake Drusilla. Didn't want to cause Spike even a single moment of pain by slaying his sire. She'd leave that to Faith.
"Buffy? Are you okay?" Willow tapped her shoulder to get her attention as she was oblivious to everything but Spike's deep blue eyes fixed on hers from across the room.
"Oh, yes – I'm fine. We'll just get on with the trials and let Faith take care of Drusilla. Although, she's picked the wrong moment for a family get-together. -- do you think maybe she's heard that Spike's back and she's come for him?"
She tried to sound nonchalant but Willow picked up on her slight uncertainty. "Well, she's in for a big disappointment then, isn’t she? He loves you, Buffy."
"Yeah – I know. It's just – they were together for so long. And she's never gonna get old and wrinkly like I will… and she'll understand what he feels when he..."
"Buffy! Don’t doubt him; he’ll never leave you for anyone – never mind Drusilla.” Willow smiled at her and gave her a brief hug before searching out her former schoolmate. “Now what’s next? Cordy, what's the next trial?"
Biting her lip, Cordelia swallowed hard before she answered. "Drusilla is."
"What the fuck?" Spike gave up pretending that he wasn't eavesdropping on Buffy and her buddies and strode over to the three girls. "Dru's the next trial? What does that mean?"
All eyes were now turned towards Spike as he stood, shoulders hunched angrily. Cordelia backed off, hands out in supplication. "Whoa, there. I'm just telling you what I'm being told. The Powers have sent Drusilla to engage you in the next trial. Other than that, I'm in the dark. The rest is up to you."
While everybody was still agog at the new revelations, there was a crackle of discharged power and Spike disappeared. Cordy's unearthly voice echoed in the silence.
"The second trial has begun."
Moments later, Wesley's pager went off and he reached for the nearest phone to dial his section. He spoke hurriedly, replacing the receiver and bowing his head before turning to answer questions.
"Drusilla's disappeared too."
Buffy stared at the place where Spike had been seconds ago and sank to her knees.