Title:   Shadows of Dreams Part 6
Author:   Anastasia (charlie1@acay.com.au)
Rating:  NC-17 (violence only, no sex ~ hate me?)
Disclaimer:  We have established that I don't own any of them, unfortunately Joss does, I just play with them for public humiliation.
Feedback:  Is so necessary for this story ~ I don't think anyone likes it.
Notes:  Okay, this is a weird bit...and I do love Spike but this is kind of needed for the story.  Has some violence, I wouldn't class it as a lot, but some might find it offensive.  My poor little boy blue...forgive me?

               ***

"Great," murmured Spike flicking through Angel's record collection.  "This is just fan-bloody-tastic.  I have to come to LA and play soddin'
nursemaid to Nancyboy's little pet while he's off on his dark-knight save the world crusade.  Wanker hasn't even got any half decent music...not too mention a TV...bloody hell, why the fuck am I here?"

He knew exactly why, Angel had called him and told him to get his arse there before 8pm, no explanation was given other than it was what his sire wanted.  Spike sat down on the floor cross-legged in front of the collection of LP's and frowned, he had come after a few protests on his half and several threats on Angel's part that he was quite sure his sire would carry out.  Reluctantly Giles, after speaking with Angel again, had handed over the keys of the Citroen and Spike's manic driving ability ensured that he was soon standing in front of his sire being lectured.

"Some things never change," Spike growled as he started to pull the aged LP's from their dust jackets and piled them up to his right while the covers were similarly piled to his left.  Picking up the next album he groaned and rolled his eyes.  "Ode to Joy, it's enough to make you heave...."

The first person he'd seen was Cordelia, smirking he had delivered his usual double edge compliment insult only to have Angel shoot out from the shadows of the office and beat him into a submissive position, one knee firmly lodged in the small of his back while the other rested on his neck. Needless to say Spike had offered a somewhat flat apology to the brunette before being hauled off the floor and shoved into his sire's office. There, through thinly veiled threats he had explained why Spike was in LA and that if he wanted to continue any sort of existence he would keep his mouth shut and ensure that Willow would be looked after during his absence.  Spike considered his options, which he really didn't have, and reluctantly agreed.

As they made their way downstairs Angel had explained her needs and his concerns.  Spike hadn't paid any particular attention.  He was here and he would stay and look after her until the great poof came back...it didn't mean he had to care.  So after an hour of listening to Angel drone on and on about what she needed he was finally freed of his sire's oppressive presence and given the final threat of a long and painful death should anything happen to her.  That was just over two hours ago and now he was bored.

"Mozart..." Spike slipped the record out of its sleeve and put it with the rest in the piles and picked up the next.  "Bach..." he repeated the process and paused, turning his head slightly and cocking an eyebrow.  Willow was whimpering and had kicked the quilt back.  Spike shrugged and picked up the next album.  "Beethoven...bloody hell, 'I'm such a deep and artistic guy hear me brood'...pathetic."

Another whimper from the bedroom drew his attention away from the ever-increasing piles of records and covers.  Muttering obscenities about having his fun interrupted he pushed himself off the floor and sauntered toward the room, leaning against the doorframe watching as the redhead tossed on the bed, a fine sheen of sweat covering her.

"Sweet dreams little one?" he smirked crossing his arms as he continued to watch.  It had been so long since he had had the pleasure of hearing a human whimper or scream or anything, he was just going to sit back and enjoy it for a while.  Bugger Angel's insistence that she should be woken or comforted when she dreamt - it wasn't going to hurt her.

               ***

The fingernails were torn, ripped from the beds, blood cried from the tattered cuticles.  The hands were pressed against a stone floor, resting in stagnant pools of blood.  Dark damp hair hung in the eyes.  She didn't know if it was naturally dark or if it was darkened by blood, the stench of which filled the air.  Suddenly the body moved, pushing on those torn and tattered hands, the blood squishing beneath the palms.  As the body pushed upwards, straining to get off that bloody stone floor, the flesh of the back felt as if it was on fire.  The arms and legs trembled, trying to support the weight of the tortured body, and a booted foot smashed into the side of the head pushing it back down to the floor.

"You just don't learn, do you my little boy blue?"  The pressure of the boot was lifted and fingers ripped at the hair, lifting the head up from the floor.  Those chocolate brown eyes came into her line of vision.

"Angelus," she thought to herself as the body she was trapped in shook in agony, a scream was swallowed back as his fingers twisted cruelly in the hair.  "No, this can't be happening."

               ***

"No, this can't be happening," Spike barely heard the whisper.  Smiling he walked over to the end of the bed, sat down and watched.  Her face was flinching; tears crept from beneath her closed eyes while her arms and legs twitched.

"Oh it is pet, keep going," Spike whispered, not wanting to wake her and end this entertaining little display.  He smiled brightly when her head twisted back and a long wail of denial left her lips.  "This is just too precious."

               ***

"Now, who does she belong to?"  His fingers locked and ripped at her hair twisting until a dark haired girl came into view, pale and sobbing quietly in the corner of the room. A tattered and bloody shift covered her long pale body, dark hair hung in loose waves about her shoulders, a few dark ringlets covering the deep grey blue of her eyes that were fixed on the floor.

"Why not?  I told you it would and it has." Willow glanced away from the girl to see Angel standing nonchalantly against the wall, carelessly
observing the scene that was playing out.

"Why so quiet my little boy blue?  Nothing to say?  Come on, don't play the martyr." Angelus twisted his fingers tighter and shoved her head down back onto the floor with enough force to split open the temple.  The sharp pain screamed through her bruised and battered body and she could feel the blood leaking into her eye, the vision becoming a blurred red haze.  Through that haze she could see his boots walking towards the girl, his torso was naked and the britches were fitted like a second skin, as he walked the muscles flexed in his back and shoulders, his tattoo rippled. Again the body she was in tried to lift up, the pain was too much and it crashed back down onto the cold unrelenting stone.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Angel asked, examining his fingernails.  He walked over to her fallen form and squatted down, tilting his head to look over the naked and bloodied body lying prostrate before him.  Sighing he shook his head.  "Whippings are always painful...can you feel each of those cuts? Holy water on the leather straps, does that, cuts through the flesh easier, burns longer...but you know that already...how many times have we done this Willow?  Hmm?  I told you."

Angelus grabbed the girl by her long locks and dragged her forward, pushing her onto the ground.  Something caught in Willow's throat, her chest tightened as the girls head lifted her grey blue eyes begging with hers, lifting her head she took in Angelus looming over them grinning like a Cheshire cat, slowly unbuttoning his britches.  Angel stood up and walked away from the threesome.

"I took her without your permission, punish me not her," the north London accent rumbled through her.  The mouth hurt with every word and the tightening in the chest increased.

Angelus' laugh echoed through the room and he grabbed the girl's hair, pulling her head back.  She whimpered, tears making dirty trails down her face.  "That true Dru?"

Drusilla was too terrified to answer him, instead whimpering and biting into her lip to stop from crying out.  Angelus knelt in front of her, his face softening, his hands releasing her hair to caress her pale flesh.  Leaning forward he let his lips trace a path from her ear down her throat and down to the firm flesh of her breasts, her nipples hardened under his mouth.  Moaning slightly she entangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth away from her breasts to kiss, their tongues moving together in a familiar dance.  One hand wound itself in her long dark hair and savagely yanked her back, his other backhanding her across the face with a sickening crack that announced a broken cheek and sent her sprawling to the ground.  Angelus smirked and looked at the dark hair that was still tangled in his fist.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, I think you're going bald Dru.  You should be more careful what you do with that pretty little mouth of yours."

"Leave her alone you bloody pillock," with a final effort Willow felt her body lift up, she was in agony.  Angelus' fist rocketed out and collided with her jaw, sending her sprawling back onto the stone floor, the flesh on her hands and legs tearing against the rough ground.  Inside she screamed in agony, outwardly she was silent.

"Come here Dru," Angelus demanded, the dark haired vampire remained huddled on the floor, whimpering to herself.  Growling the demon came to the fore and he grabbed her hair, hauling her up against him.  Tilting her head to bare her neck he grinned, his fingers dug in between her thighs, causing her to gasp in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain.  "Now, Dru, who do you belong to?"

Dru gulped in unnecessary air, her eyes blindly moving about the room.  Growling possessively Angelus sank his fangs into the long slender column of her neck.  The reaction was instant, her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth fell open and she pushed down against his fingers buried between her thighs.

"Angelus," she screamed in pleasure her body going limp in his arms.  Pulling away from her neck he let her drop to the floor.  Angelus laughed, echoed softly by Angel's own mirth, and turned away from her to look back at Willow.

"Get out Dru, go have a bath and wait for me in my room," Angelus ordered.  Dru whimpered softly pulling herself up onto her hands and knees. She reached out towards Willow.

"Will?" she questioned softly only to be rewarded with a kick in the ribs that sent her crashing back down.

"Go now...leave little boy blue to me," Angelus hissed.  Willow shuddered, inside this body she could feel anger, frustration, pain and hatred
building, inwardly she was screaming, outwardly she was silent.  Every single part of her ached and throbbed in agony.

"Bye, bye Dru," Angel said softly as the girl passed him.  Sighing he turned back to Willow.  "Pity she had to go, now you have his full attention."

Angelus' fist struck out at her, colliding with her already broken jaw and smashing into her nose, causing blood to spurt from it.  Laughing he
pulled back his fist and licked at the blood.

"Please don't, please help me Angel," Willow didn't know if she spoke or not, she couldn't hear anything but her own screams of pain and
begging.  But somehow she knew that this body she was trapped in was quiet, further angering Angelus.  "Make him stop."

               ***

"Please don't," Willow screamed out her hands blindly grabbing and reaching for something that wasn't there.  "Please help me Angel...make him stop."

"Scream little girl, your saviour's not here," Spike snarled, amazed at how they all called on his great poof of a sire for help.  He watched as she continued to toss, to scream, her body twisting in the mimic of pain.  It was just so much fun.

               ***

"Shhh, Willow, it's okay," Angel shushed her fears, comforting her.  Smiling he stepped forward, so he was standing next to Angelus who was still licking at his blood stained hand.  That hand shot out again, the nails scraping cruelly across her throat, ripping at the flesh, causing her to scream. Angel shrugged and walked away. "Well...maybe I lied..."

Angelus grabbed her throat, lifting her up and slamming her back down hard against the stone floor.  The cuts in her back ripped open and
suddenly he was straddling her, the cotton of his britches rubbing against her naked flesh, his leather boots crushing down on her legs, his hands crushing her upper arms, pressing her tattered body into the stone.

"Now this is what we're use to, you being the submissive little boy," Angelus growled.  Trapped beneath him Willow could feel the emotions that had been building in this body burst through and take control, bucking and fighting against him.  "That's it boy, fight me...give me a reason."

Angelus' knee crashed into her groin, crushing parts and sending a blinding white pain screaming through her.  Inside she curled up and
screamed.  The body she was in fought.  Snarling and blind with hatred it struck out, forehead slamming into his, teeth trying  to sink into flesh, fingers aching to gouge and maim.  But Angelus was truly in control, his knee crashing down onto her stomach, his hands dragging hers together and holding them down, freeing one of his own which repeatedly slammed into her face and chest.

"Come on," Angelus hissed as his blows became stronger.  "Scream...you know you want to."

"Open your mouth and scream, Willow," Angel suggested, laughing lightly.  "Oh that's right you are screaming, not much for pain are you?  Pity you don't control that poor boys body, you would have been screaming your head off by now."

"You get tougher each time...more fun for me, the longer you last the more pleasure I get out of it, almost as much as I'll get from bedding your little princess," Angelus' claws scratched at the tattered flesh of her neck, the pressure of his knees crushing the bones of her legs.  "She'll always choose me over you little boy blue."

Willow felt the blood bubble up through long dead lungs, ribs broken, puncturing the useless organs.  The anger and hatred surrendered to raging agony and a guttural scream left the body she was in.

               ***

Spike smirked to himself, now this was fun.  The fragile girl caught in her nightmares was screaming and thrashing on the bed, begging for help. This was really fun, until he noticed the scratch marks on her throat.

"What the bloody hell?" he muttered, moving in closer, grabbing her arms he easily stilled her weak struggling.  His eyes roamed over her body, her face was flushed, the t-shirt she slept in was sopping wet with sweat and there were various raised weeping welts on her flesh.  "Damn it, Willow, wake up."

She didn't respond, still screaming and fighting against his grip and apparently still asleep.  Spike shook her as hard as he dared.

"Come on, pet.  Wake up!" he yelled at her.  "Willow."

               ***

"Willow."

"Now that's the sound I love to hear from your lips," Angelus purred, crushing his hand down onto her throat and sitting up.  He repeatedly
smashed his fist into her face until the screams and struggling stopped, semi-darkness overtaking her.

"Turn and spin, take a walk on the other side Willow," Angel whispered to her, she wasn't even aware of him being there anymore, just of the incredible pain that consumed her.  Suddenly the pain was combined with an overwhelming pleasure and she was looking down at a bloodied man, sharp cheekbones littered with bruises, longish brown wavy hair wet with blood, pouty lips framing a mouth that was screaming and spitting blood.  One of her hands crushed his throat and the other bought forth a knife and started to cut into the flesh of his chest.  The body beneath her bucked and screamed, she felt his pain, felt the pain as the knife cut into her own chest, carving an elaborate letter A, but with that pain came pleasure.

"You're mine, you're my little boy blue." Angelus voice echoed through her and the man beneath her opened his eyes, piercing blue penetrated her and he spat in her face.  Angelus' laugh boomed about the room.  "Still fighting me? Still denying me?"

Looking down she let her eyes roam his body, which was covered in a series of slashes, gashes and scratches.  She felt each and every one of those deep welts that bleed the rich dark blood of his essence.

"Willow."

"No matter what I will always own you," her fingers gripped his dark hair and pulled him up to her.

"Come on Willow, love.  Wake up."

"My little boy blue." Angelus purred and suddenly Willow was looking into those brown eyes and he sank his fangs into her neck.  She screamed, long and loud.

               ***

Arching up against him she let out the most blood-curdling scream he'd ever heard and her eyes flew open.  Her hands hit out against him,
catching him off guard and clawing his face.

"Damn it, Willow," Spike bellowed shaking her hard.  She struggled against him, continuing to scream.  Cursing loudly he threw himself down on her, his arms snaking about her, holding her, trying to still her.  "It's okay, Willow.  You're safe."

"No, no, no," she whispered, struggling to breathe.  Her body was in agony, she could feel everything that had happened and Spike's arms were killing her pressing against bruised and battered flesh.  She couldn't breathe.

Spike listened to her, her heartbeat was still racing and she struggled against him.  Worried about her harsh breathing he lifted off her, cradling her body to his chest, his fingers finding their way to her hair.  Stroking her hair he rocked her gently, still she seemed to find it difficult to breathe.  Sighing he rested his cheek against her hair, taking in her smell and chuckled softly.

"Well pet, you seem to have the interesting dreams," he spoke softly, her body trembled in his arms but she had given up struggling against him and the screaming had stopped.  Shifting slightly he ran his hand lightly across her back, surprised when she moved away from his hand and into his body.  Frowning he pulled back and looked down at her still flushed face.  "Willow?"

She looked up at him, disorientated and in pain, her eyes focusing on his piercing blue gaze.  Biting her lip she bought up a trembling hand to caress his cheek.  Spike raised an eyebrow and smiled at her.

"Little boy blue," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.  The smile was wiped off his face and he grabbed her arms pushing her away from him.

"What?" he growled.  Willow dissolved into a flood of tears, her hands clenching into fists as she cried out in pain.  Spike loosened his grip and his face softened.  He hated it when women cried, well unless he wanted them too.  "Come on, love. I'm sorry, don't cry..."

He tried to pull her back into his arms only to have her scream and shrink away from him.  Frowning he watched as she started to rock herself, arms wrapping about her knees, she drawn up into a tight ball.  The scratches on her throat were raised and red and drew his attention.  Slowly he inched forward and let his cool fingers run across the marks, she flinched away, still he kept his fingers on her flesh, and his other hand caressed her arm feeling similar raised marks.

"Bloody hell love, what the fuck is going on with you?"
 

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