"Spike?"  The vampire didn't even bother acknowledging the presence,
keeping his eyes trained firmly on the book.

"Spike?"  A smile threatened to blow his cover, but he managed to hide
it with a scowl as he refused to respond.

"Okay, hmm, well I'm gonna talk anyway cause I know with your vampire
hearing you'll probably....hear me anyway.  So I was wondering if you
could help me out with something.  I know stupid, you're Spike, evil
guy, but this is kind of your area, but you have to promise not to
tell anyone, because they'd lock me up again, and I couldn't bare
that.  Spike?  I need you.  I, I can't live knowing that they died
because of me.  It was my fault, no matter what you say.  And I don't
know why you're here at all, why you agreed to look after me.  I
mean, you're Spike, you don't care about anyone.  So well, I guess I
could be helping you as much as you'd be helping me by asking
you....Spike?  It's happening again, I feel it.  It, its like this
fog, its not dark which I think is strange, its light and grey
and....foggy.  And I know its coming, and I know I can't stop it, and
I need you to help me, before I lose myself and hurt....everyone
again.  Cause you can hurt people without touching them, you know
that.  And I could never touch anyone, but, I can't do it again.  So
its not like you'd really be hurting me, seeing as I'm already gone.
Please, Spike?  Once more, and then I'll be good, I promise.  I just,
I need to feel it, and - "  Spike, whose breathing had shortened as
he listened to the girl finally looked up, the hurt and anger clear
on his face.
"Feel?  If you want to feel then let me touch you, let me hold
you....I won't do what you want, not anymore.  Willow, please
understand, I can't.  You awoke something in me that I never wanted
to know, but you did and I wish my Willow was still here to see it,
cause I know she would be proud, bloody saint-like as she was."
Willow was backing away into a corner, her head shaking from side to
side in a paroxysm of hurt and fear.  She wiped the tears from her
face with an overly long sleeve.  She darted back as he lunged
forward, almost catching her for the very first time.  But he knew he
wouldn't be able to hold her, even if he did finally manage to touch
her skin.  The paltriness of physical strength disgusted Spike, now
he knew it mean't nothing next to its mental kin.  That damn demon
would pay for what he'd done to his Willow.  He let his head fall
back against the wall as he watched Willow tear savagely into her own
skin.

****

Spike lay awake listening to her pitiful cries.  He tried to close
his senses to them, but they penetrated him from within.  He tore the
sheets from his body and wandered quietly into the hall.  He could
hear her turning in her sheets and crying out for death.  He sighed,
knowing exactly what she was doing and just wanting to make it
right.  He'd have to make sure she didn't hurt herself before he left
her.  Ever since the time she'd managed to crack her head open on the
side of the dresser he always dreaded the nights when her need
overcame her despair.  It seemed to leave her worse than before,
because reminding  her a little of what she had lost.  And he knew he
wouldn't be able to watch her and not seek his own release, whilst
his demon revelled in such passionate misery the rest of Spike closed
his eyes in disgust.  He crept into her room and lean't against the
wall, seeing perfectly through the enveloping darkness which would
have blinded any humans sight.  There she was, writhing on the bed as
the sheets tangled around her sweating frame.  Her hair fell across
her face in brittle clumps, tangling into a stubborn knot as she
shook her head back and forth on the pillow.  Spike felt himself
harden as he watched her hand ruthlessly pinching her core, driving
her fingers into her weeping hole.  Her other hand tugged at her
nipples, intermittently scratching the skin of her breasts.  Spike
watched the thin trail of aneamic blood curve across her concave
stomach and his demon took over with a deafening roar.  The room
remained quiet though, quiet and still as Spike's game face took over
and his hand reached for his throbbing cock.  His demon revelled in
her muttered words as it raged within him, as it gloried in the murky
depths of the woman's pathetic hurt.  Spike shot his seed into his
hand as Willow finally stilled on the bed before him.  She had either
come, though silently and without a flicker of satisfaction, or she'd
grown tired and the fit had naturally past.  Either way she wiped her
hands roughly on the sheets, a pained expression crossing her
features as she screwed her eyes shut tight and at least tried to
fall to the numbness of sleep.  Spike wanted to clean her wounds and
comfort her, and make her alright.  But all he could do was tuck his
spent cock back into his boxers and quietly hope that the demon could
bring her back.

****

One Year Earlier:

"Buffy!"  Willow screached, the back of her throat scratching against
the dry air in the vehemenance of her rage.  But she was too late.
Buffy fell limply to the floor, her eyes locked on the red-head
running to her aid.  "No!  No."  Willow murmered as she fell to her
knee's beside her best friends corpse.  Tears dripped from her eyes
and spattered across Buffy's now lifeless cheeks.  The demon
growled.  Willow raised her head, everything seemed like it was going
in slow motion.  She stared into the eyes of the slobbering thing in
front of her.  The thing which had killed three of her friends in a
matter of moments.  An image of Xander's blood soaked chest, of
Giles' silent and dignified demise, of Buffy's thwarted cry.  She
ignored the tears scorching down her cheeks and stood slowly on
unfeasably steady feet.

Spike heard the noises of a fight from almost a mile away and picked
up his pace.  If the Slayer was in trouble then he wanted to see it,
he thought with a sadistic smirk.  His face fell when he rounded the
corner and saw the carnage before him.  In the midst of a peaceful
looking churchyard lay the bodies of three of his foes, a gravestone
was cracked in half where someone had been smashed into it, and a
smear of blood dribbled into the carving of the mouldy stone.  The
little witch stood in the middle of all of this, her face a picture
of angry strength.  She would avenge the deaths of her friends, you
could see the promise in every curve of her frame.  Spike had frozen
in place at the sight, barely noticing the bent of Willow's
thoughts.  It wasn't until the red-head charged forward without a
noticable tinge of fear that Spike automatically joined in the fray.
"You bastard, you evil horrible...."  Willow's fraught filled cries
eased as she got closer to the demon, turning instead into a voice of
calm and promise.  "You are going to die."  Willow plunged the stake
into the demons gut, dodging a blow to the head.  She didn't see the
second fist, and fell to its deafening strength.  Spike tried to jump
the creature from behind but the beast merely kicked out and threw
him against a tree whilst he dragged the girl into his arms and began
to chant.  Spike was floored, all he could do was watch on helpless
as the demon continued to chant, moving Wilow by the shoulders so
that her defiant glare faced him cheek by jowl.  A faint misty light
emanated from Willow's mouth and was absorbed into the demon's oozing
flesh.  The demon blinked a couple of times before dropping the girl
disgustedly onto the floor and striding into the night.

"Willow?"  Spike said in a surprisingly gentle voice as the girl's
eyes flickered a little.  She had only been out for a few minutes but
Spike had always been an unpatient man.  He grasped her shoulders and
pulled him into his chest, but she struggled out of his grasp.  The
tears satrted falling as soon as she caught sight of the gravestone
lying next to her oldest friend.  She stumbled over to Xander and
reached an arm out to touch his lifeless form, stopping just short of
his cooling skin.  Her head shook back and forth slightly, as she
chanted the word no over and over through her scratchy throat.  Spike
watched her curiously, a strange satisfaction at her defeat mixing
with a saddness at the gang's final demise.  It was over, all the
arguments and goading of the Slayer, annoying Xander, flirting with
the witch.  Spike's demon rebelled at the feeling of sorrow seeping
through his veins and urged his body to take flight.  When Willow
finally looked up she was alone.  The smell of blood and death
permeating the musky air.

****

One Week After The Death Of Buffy The Vampire Slayer:

Spike couldn't get the image of her red-hair out of his mind.  He
thought returning to the scene might put the ghost to rest, so he
wandered through the cemetery, glancing casually around him as he
sensed another vampire close by.  He forgot about it when he saw the
body scrunched tightly against the tomb.  Willow was huddled, dirt
covered her from head to foot as she shivered in cold and hid her
face in the crook of her knee's which she held tightly to her chest.
Spike's eyebrows furrowed looking at her, he'd thought her strong
enough to cope with anything, but here she was completely gone to
pieces less than a week after her friends death.  He walked silently
up to where she stood and was about to kneel down in front of her
when she kicked him to the ground and pinned him there with her foot,
a stake raised almost absently ready to plunge.  Spike was astonisjed
to find he could barely move, since when had the witch been so bloody
strong?  He glanced in panic at Willow's face and finally caught the
emerald glow of her orbs with his own.  She froze for a second,
before slowly lowering her stake and returning to her place of safety
by the wall of the tomb, sinking on her haunches in seeming ignorance
of the vampire's presence.  Spike raised himself up on his elbows and
stared at the girl.  He shifted himself across the leaf covered
ground and leaned against the wall next to her, brows still furrowed
in confusion.  She instantly shuffled away from him, muscles tensed
in apparant anguish at his presence.  They sat together, watching the
night thicken into darkness around them.  Finally Spike looked at her
again.  She was in exactly the same place as before, hunched away
from him, silently shaking her head and gazing absently into the air.
"Willow?"  He tried, not quite sure what to do.  He saw her tense
even more as he spoke, but she didn't move.  "What happened?"  A
moment of silence passed before she glanced at him for a moment,
quickly returning her head to the front again.
"I killed them."  She whispered, her voice hoarse and strained from
underuse and lack of care.
"What?"  Spike shot out in evident scorn.
"I, I should have helped them." She then looked again at the vampire,
pleading with her eyes.  "Why didn't I die?"  She asked quietly,
gazing into his eyes.  It was Spike's turn to remove his eyes from
the girl and place them on the air.
"Don't be stupid pet.  I saw that demon, it was bloody massive.  If
the Slayer couldn't handle it, what chance did you have?"  There was
another short silence.
"S, Spike?"  He didn't move.  "Help me?"  He shifted uncomfortably at
that.
"I don't help the bloody cavalry pet, I kill 'em.  Why don't you
toddle off to your parents or something?"  He asked, frowning at how
she had withdrawn into herself at his words.
"Not there."  She breathed.  Spike rolled his eyes.
"I always thought you were the strong one.  You know, could cope with
anything despite how feeble you look.  And by the way since when are
you so bloody strong?"  Willow bit her bottom lip, her hands
trembling as she clutched at her knee's for comfort.  Spike rolled
his eyes again and sighed deeply.  "Look pet, I'll take you home
yeah, but I'm no sodding nurse maid to the Slayers best friend.
You'll have to pull yourself together on your own okay."  He said as
brusquely as possibly, standing up and holding a hand out for her.
Her eyes widened in fear as his hand moved closer to her skin.  All
of a sudden she was up on her feet and backing nervously away, her
breathe short and paniced.
"Don't touch me."  She said, a strange sort of desperate disgust in
her voice.  Spike's face contorted into confusion again, he'd always
assumed the chit had had a crush on him.
"What you afraid of?  You know I can't hurt you.  Not until this
bloody chip comes out anyway."  he shrugged, turning away from the
shivering girl.  Willow edged around him, keeping a distance but
accepting his company for now.  After a few paces Spike could no
longer cope with the deafening silence.  He glanced at the girl,
covered in mud and blood, hair matted to her head.
"You should take better care of yourself luv.  Could smell you a mile
away."  Willow's eyes flicked to the side but her head remained
still.  Spike suddenly saw an image of the demon holding Willow
before him, chanting and extracting some sort of light from the
girl.  If he'd taken something then why was she so strong?  Well
physically strong, in every other respect she was a wreck.  They
finally reached her parents abandoned house.  It seems that since
Willow had gone to college they'd practically emigrated abroad.  She
fumbled in the bag which hung from her side, the strap around her
chest and shoulder.  She opened the door and stood aside, watching
the vampire closely through grimy looking eyes.
"Come in." She said softly, her throat still catching whenever she
tried to talk.  Spike did a double take, shocked at this particular
turn of events.  Shrugging his shoulders a little he stepped into the
red-head's house.  She walked straight upstairs, ignoring the vampire
who stood awkwardly in the hall.  She appeared a couple of minutes
later carrying, of all things, a child size baseball bat which she
caressed almost reverantly as she held it in her hands.  She glanced
up at him as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Xander gave this to me, he said I needed the practice."  She
murmered with a sweetly silent smile.  "We used to run to the fields
in the summer and he'd make me pitch to him for hours.  He always
wanted to be the best and of course his father....well he'd get in
trouble if he didn't do well.  We used to say his father was the
devil, that was before we knew about....people like you, but even
then we never stopped calling him that.  He was more demon than even
you."  Spike scowled a little at this afront to his demon, but
remained silent and still as the girl spoke.  Willow swallowed as she
shifted her hand to the very end of the bats wooden base and held it
out for Spike.
"And what am I supposed to do with that luv?  I'm not a baseball fan
myself.  English remember."  He had a terrible inkling of just what
she was getting at, and although his demon was rejoicing within, his
skin crawled at the very thought.  Willow nudged the handle of the
bat into Spike's unwilling hand and moved quietly towards the
stairs.  She crouched down, much like her stance outside the tomb,
and closed her eyes.  Taking a deep breathe she began her attack.
"Not that I think you'll use it of course.  You would have once of
course, when you first came here you would have killed us all in a
second and spat on our weakness.  That was before you went soft of
course."  Spike's hand tightened round the bat.  He knew what she was
doing, but his demon was taking delight in the promise of violence
and her insults made it increasingly difficult to fight.  "I mean I
can understand why Drusilla left you, you just weren't the bad ass
demon that she met.  Not good enough for her were you Spike?"  She
whispered, closing her eyes as the vampire moved closer.  "Of course
it was always Angelus that Dru really wanted.  You were always just
second best."  Spike pounced at the girl, only to recieve a viscious
kick to his chest just as he was about to pull her up by the neck.
He jumped to his feet, his demon taking over and all sense gone.  He
growled at the girl, who was now standing at the bottom of the
stairs, still shivering slightly and biting her lip.
"Don't touch me."  She said, looking pointedly at the bat that was
still gripped firmly in his hand.  Spike growled as he followed her
eyes.  The cocky bitch was baiting him.  Him!  William the Bloody,
mocked by a stupid slip of a girl.  It was time to teach her what
goading a vampire would really do.  She didn't have a clue about
pain.  But she would, soon.  He lifted the bat in the air and brought
it crashing into her chest, knocking her backwards as she gasped for
lost air.  He followed her body and swung again, she didn't fight,
merely laid on the stairs and let the tears course down her face and
the blows come one after the other.

Spike beat the girl for five minutes, ejecting all of his frustraton
about the chip and his current situation into creating the deep
bruises which were already marring the red-head's pale skin.  After
five minutes a fog seemed to lift and he dropped the bat, breathing
heavily as he looked at Willow lying battered before him.  She was
barely conscious.  He ran his hand through his hair, swallowing the
bile rising in his throat, before scooping the girl up in his arms
and striding out the door.  He knew exactly where the hospital was,
it was a perfect place for snatching blood when no one else was
around.  "What the bloody Hell is wrong with you witch?"  He
muttered, as he held her closer to his cold frame.

****

Two Weeks After The Death Of Buffy The Vampire Slayer:

Spike laid his hands firmly on the desk and leaned in close to the
perky receptionist.  He had to know what had happened to her.
Despite his efforts to forget the image of her battered body
mergingwith her once defiant stare in the factory all those months
ago, would not leave his mind.
"Looking for a girl, Willow Rosenberg.  Brought in a week ago."  he
said, trying to contain his demon at the smell of hospital blood.
"Rosenberg?  Rosenberg."  The receptionist muttered as she clicked at
her keyboard.  "Are you a relative sir?"
"Uhm...yeah."
"Because boyfriends aren't allowed in without direct permission."
The girl continued, not looking up from her computer screen.  SPike's
lips pursed tightly together before he spoke, and a strange
whispering grippped at his heart.
"I'm not her boyfriend, I'm her bloody....brother.  Brother.  I'm her
brother."  He repeated until he sounded convinced.
"Right sir."  She scribbled a note on a nearby pad and ripped the
page off.  "Your sister has been transferred to the Riverview ward.
Her room number is here.  Its a closed ward of course, but you'll
find someone to tell you what's going to happen when you get there."
She smiled an automatic smile as Spike snatched the paper from her
hand.
"Riverview ward, what's that?"  He muttered, frowning at the paper.
"Wing for the mentally diturbed sir."  The receptionist muttered,
already dealing with the next person on her list.  Spike's eyes
widened at her words, there must be some mistake.

Spike tried to hide the growl as he stared angrily at the smug little
doctor.  if only he didn't have the chip he'd rip his damn throat out
right there in the chemical smelling hall.  Instead he forced a smile
and moved a little closer.  "Listen mate, my sister's been dumped in
here.  Its a mistake okay, so if you just sign the form or whatever
and she can go home alright."
"I'm afraid thats not possible sir.  As far as we're aware Willow's
parent's have been uncontactable and she will tell us of no other
kin, only mumbling a set of names over and over."
"What names?"  Spike asked urgently.
"Hmm something about a Xander, a Buffy, Giles and hmm, oh yes she
consistently harks on  about a man called Spike?  We presume its no
one she actually knows in person."  The doctor smiled indulgently at
the ridiculous name.  Spike's face set in a death stare.
"That would be me mate.  Nickname."  He explained as an
afterthought.  The doctor's face straightened immediately.
"Ah.  Well hmm, she's been sedated partly because of her injuries and
partly becuase of her mania.  I don't suppose you would know how she
came to get her injuries?"  The doctor asked pointedly, glancing for
a moment at  the vampire's strongly defined arms.
"No."  Spike mouthed emphatically.  "Now are you going to let her
out?"
"I'm afraid that's not possible sir, as I said we must confirm that
she will have a carer to support her eratic state of mind, and we'd
like to ascertain why it was she happened to be abandoned here in
such a state in the first place."  Spike rolled his eyes, his
nostrils flaring slightly as his fist itched to bury itself in that
self-satisfied grin.
"Well can I see her?"  He barked, glaring at the paltry man.  The
doctor swallowed at the look in the young man's eyes and ficked
through his clipboard for comfort.
"I think that would be acceptable, if it was only a short stay."  He
conceded rudgingly, turning to move down the corridor, Spike followed
close behind.

For the first time in over a century Spike felt a spark of remorse.
Willow sat crossed legged in a plastic armchair, gazing out of the
window with a strange mist in her eyes.
"She's a little drugged up.  Please don't upset her.  I'll be back in
a few minutes."  Spike scowled at the retreating doctor before
returning his gaze to the girl.  Barely a patch of skin wasn't
covered by a blistered and dark coloured bruise.  Purple in places,
yellow in others.  One of her cheekbones sported a fierce looking
split in its otherwise pale skin.  Her hair was greasy and tied in a
careless knot at the back of her head with a brittle rubber band.  A
hospital gown covered her, and a blanket lay on her knee's.  She
looked painfully thin, and completely and utterly lost.  Spike moved
forward awkwardly.
"Spike."  Willow said quietly as he moved closer.
"Red."  He breathed.  He took one more step closer but she started to
shrug away so he redirected himself and leaned against the window
sill.  "What the bloody hell is it Willow?  What happened to you?"
He flinched at the concern in his voice but battled with his demon
for a little emotional control.
"I don't know.  Somethings wrong.  I, I don't know.  I can't feel
anything but badness and I should have died, not them."  Spike's brow
furrowed as he thought.
"I think the demon did something t you luv, when you tried to kill
him."  Willow looked at him absently.
"I thought you were there, after it was over, but then you were gone."
"Yeah....well.  Hmm, I guess should call peaches huh, he
could....take care of you or whatever."  Willow's eyes widened and
she started to scratch at the back of her hand, shaking her head
vehemenently back and forth.
"No, no, you, you mustn't call him.  he has to be happy, and
Cordelia.  And, no.  You can't, you cvan't tell anyone.  I just."
She looked into his eyes in a way which made Spike intensely
uncomfortable.  "I need you, Spike.  You don't care.  I...."  She
trailed off as a smear of blood was spread across her palm.  Spike
watched her create deep chicken scratches across her hands, fighting
the rise of his demon at the blood.  Finally he snapped and lunged
forward to hold her hands apart.  But she anticipated him and leapt
from her chair, holding it between them and shaking in apparant
dread.  Spike sighed and ran his hands violently through his head.
"What is it pet?  Why won't you let me near you, let me touch you?"
he asked angrily, glaring at the girl who could affect him so much.
She just shook her head and turned her face the ground, letting heavy
tears drip onto the floor.  Spike closed his eyes as he sharply
exhaled.  "I didn't know anyone had so many tears."  He muttered.
They stood stock still for a few moments, obstinately not looking at
each otherbut determined not to part.
"Sorry."  Willow whispered softly, causing the already irate vampire
to growl.  Why was he even there?  he was a vampire.
"Bloody hell Willow."  he said, catching her eye for one more minute
before walking slowly away.

****

One month after the death of Buffy The Vampire Slayer:

Spike threw the book at the wall with such force it chipped the
paintwork.  Bloody bastard.  He'd finally found the demon which had
killed the Slayer and her chums in one of the Watcher's old books.
he'd adopted the flat as a place to stay when he was fed up of his
crypt.  No one else seemed to mind, or even notice that the bumbling
Englishman had gone.  Spike looked at the book lying in a crumpled
heap on the floor.  The book that told him what was wrong with
Willow.  She had no inner strength or whatever similar euphemism you
wanted to use for it.  The demon fed off of her and left her a hollow
shell.  Stronger in body but bereft in spirit and mind.  Spike cursed
the demon once more, and then cursed himself for caring either way.
But he did and he accepted it, sort of.  He knew he'd help the witch
in the end, so he might as well do it and just not think what that
meant.  It was easier.  But how was he supposed to help her when she
wouldn't let him tell anyone, or even touch her?  He hadn't realised
how much he had wanted to touch her until the privalege was taken
away, as was so often the case.  He stomped noisely over to the book
and swiped it off the floor.  He re-read the reversal spell and
sighed.  He needed the flesh of the damn demon.  How the hell was he
supposed to get the flesh of the demon?  Everything else would be
easy enough.  But there was no way he was going to be able to track
that creature down on his own and look after the girl.  heated a mug
of blood while he tried to think what to do.  Pushing the
frighteneing thought that he always fell for insane women to the back
of his mind for examination and panic at a later date.  Finally, when
the mug of blood was empty and sitting in the sink and his demon
sated he reached for the phone.  He didn't have to tell his sire
everything, just enough to get his help.

Spike slammed the door open and waited for her to catch up.  She
wouldn't walk within more than a few feet from him.  She crept
silently into her own house, edging around Spike as he went to lock
the door.  She stood awkwardly in the hall biting her lip and
watching the vampire, until she caught sight of the abandoned bat
laying against the wal and stooped topick it up.  A lot of her
bruises had cleared up and her movements did not elicit as much pain
as before.  She smoothed the bat, looking curiously at her own blood
which had dried into the wood, staining it in places.  She jumped
when Spike spoke, turning around with the bat still clutched in her
hands.  Spike's eyes fell to the smooth surface of the wood and his
eyes lingered there, before travelling up to Willow's hopeful face.
he broke into a hollow smile.
"Willow, pet, you've just come out of the hospital, you don't really
want to be back in there do you?"  he asked softly, shaking his head
a little in confusion at the girl.  "Anyway, we...I am going to cure
you."  he said proudly.  Willow's brow furrowed.
"Why?"  She said finally.
"What's that pet?"  Spike evaded the question as he worked his way
further into the house.  Willow suddenly took in a sharp breathe.
"You said we!  We, you said.  Whose we?"  She asked urgently,
dropping the bat and rubbing at her wrists with her sturdy nails.
"Don't do that."  Spike ordered as he stepped towards the girl, she
instantly jumped back out of his reach but dropped her hands to her
side.  Spike sighed at her sternly.  "Angel is searching for the
demon who....did this to you.  When we find it I'll do a spell and
you'll be back to your old stoic self."  Spike tried to explain to
the panicing girl.
"Y, you told Angel.  You, no...he, he can't know.  He, he'd come here
and....I....no."  She murmered closing her eyes on the world.  Spike
moved closer without thinking, causing her to bolt backwards and fall
onto the stairs.  "He doesn't know anything, apart from the fact that
finding this demon is bloody important for your welfare.  he's gonna
find it, I am favourite childe after all."  he attempted a grin, but
the cokiness wasn't quite as confident as usual.  Wilow scrambled up
the stairs, turning to face the right way only half way up.  She
disappeared into her room.  Spoike sat silently on the ottom step and
held his head in his hands.  This was it, this was his life until he
could get the chip removed.  Bloody brilliant, he sighed as he pulled
himself up and headed for the fridge.

Spike woke to the sounds of muffled sobs coming from Willow's room.
She had been home for just over a month now and they had at heast
worked out some kind of routine.  Days would go by when she didn't
come out of her room, didn't eat or drink or talk, but she was still
alive and that, Spike thought, was the point at least for the
present.  Angel was still scouring the country for the demon, leaving
Spike with the gaping dread that all this was going to take longer
than he'd thought to finish.  He used those days to talk to people
about the chip, trying to find a way of getting freed from its
chains.  he found to his satisfaction that his affection for the red-
head had cooled considerably since living with her.  And this made
his demon relax somewhat.He'd never heard her cry before though, she
usually just let the tears fall of their own accord.  He pushed the
door open gently, freezing in place when he saw the sight.  Willow
stood in the corner, naked and shivering, and silebntly shaking from
left to right with the rhythm and accuracy of a pendulam.  One of her
hands was fiercely gripping her pubic hair, while the other was bust
creating deep chicken-scratches in the hollow between her breasts.
It was only after a moment that Spike noticed he was also scratching
into the flesh of her core, and that tiny smears of blood could be
seen with his vampire's gaze.  Her head was lean't back against the
wall, her hair pulled back sharply around her palely pink ears.  She
was sobbing and murmering all the while, her skin trembling as she
moved rhythmically from foot to foot.
"Willow?"  Spike asked from the doorway.  She didn't seem to notice
his presence, if she did she was too far gone to acknowledge it.
"It won't go away, it won't go away.  Go, go away.  i...please.  It
won't go away."  Willow murmered through her stifled tears.
"What won't go away?"  Spike asked, moving closer, knowing his
presence would break through the fog, at least in part.  She jumped
and cowered away from him, her hands still scratching at her flesh,
when she saw him.  She shook her head angrily.  "Spike?  Spike, help
me.  please.  I need to, I need to feel it.  please.  it won't go
away."  She cried, tears of relief mixing with the despair.
"What do you want me to do?"  Spike asked, trying to ignore the demon
raging at his core.  Willow looked at him, pleading with her eyes.
Spike ran a hand over his brow, licking his lips as he tried to
refuse, knowing he wouldn't from the evry start.  He gave up and went
to retrieve the bat, which Willow kept possessively by her window,
and had done ever since she had returned.  he closed his eyes as he
picked it up, his demon berating him for the sparks of fear and guilt
which coursed through his frame.  he stood before her, closer than he
was ever usually allowed to get, and searched her eyes before he
raised the bat.  He watched in subdued fascination as the wood
slapped against her flesh.  She cowered in the corner, tears still
flowing, but her hands had stilled in position and she of course
didn't even try to fight him off.  He knew she could have, which was
all that resolved him to the task.  His demon caressed his instincts
into a fervour of ecstacy as he hit the girl a second time, then a
third.  She looked up at him with grateful eyes and Spike paused, not
wanting to go on.  But the sudden panic which went through her
ensured one more blow to her ribcage before Spike threw the bat from
his hand and turned to the window, wiping his mouth as his game face
slowly disappeared.  he heard Willow trying to move and turned round
again, a stabbing pain shooting through his flesh as he sawwhat he
and done.  She managed to get up and hobble to the bed.  She slipped
under the covers, wincing at the pain, and lay quietly down.  Spike
watched her in silence for a while before striding purposefully
towards the door.
"Thank you." He heard the soft whisper as he shut the door and made
his way back to his room.  His cock was rock hard, partly in response
to his demon's joy at violence and partly in response to the girl
herself.  He moved his hand to his hips, closing his eyes as he
settled back on the pillows.

****

One Year After The Death Of Buffy The Vampire Slayer:

Spike wandered absently down the stairs, hoping Willow wouldn't
remember too much about last nights attack.  She was always worse
afterwards.  It was though her insides took it as her striving for a
moment of happiness, of not feeling the guilt, and therefore
rebelled.  He sighed.  She was his whole life now, and he didn't know
what that mean't, or would mean if Willow ever got back to herself.
He'd fought his demon for months, still did, but he knew there was
nothing he could do about it.  He wanted a human, he needed a human.
Love was, as ever, a funny thing.  He just wished he could hold her,
let her know.  But she hadn't allowed anyone to touchher, except
whilst beating her with a lump of wood, for over a year.  Since the
day that demon stole the strength of her soul.  Spike scowled as he
thought about it, cursing his sire for not having found the creature
thus far.  He couldn't do it anymore.  he couldn't beat her, he cared
about her.  And Willow couldn't cope with anyone caring for her at
the moment.  That's why she had shunned what friends had remained
after that night, had refused to tell Angel or be touched.  She
couldn't be comforted, because it spoke to a part of her that had
been stolen from her frame.  Ever since he'd fallen in love with her
Willow had gotten worse.  Begging him to hurt her, to kill her, to
make it go away.  Her self-destructive attacks were becoming more
frequent and he was struck with fear that she might do some permanent
damage to herself if he refused to bow to her distorted will.  She
sat in the window holding an unopened book, absently readin its
ancient spine.  Spike sloped into the room and threw himself at the
couch.  Neither said anything for at least twenty minutes, during
which Spike flipped through the numerous Tv channels and Willow
read.  They would have stayed like that for the bulk of the day if
the phone hadn't shattered the silence of the day.  Spike pulled
himself off the couch, clicking the television off as he headed for
the reciever.  "Yeah?  What's that mate?"  Spike suddenly stopped
breathing, causing Willow to look up in surprise.  Then he let out a
long breathe and started arguing with the person on the other end of
the line.  "No.  You're not coming here.  She doesn't want you here.
i'll come and get it."  Spike yelled into the phone.  "I'll be there
later today.  Stay put."  he ordered his sire before hanging up and
turning to the red-head.  The bloody poof's found it.  I have to go
to LA."  he said, already ruinning up the stairs.  He returned a few
minutes later with an empty holdhall in his hand.  "He grabbed his
duster and shrugged it on.  Only then did he turn to the gurl, still
sitting by the window intent on her book.  "I'll be back tomorrow
luv, okay?  You'll be....fine."  He said, more to himself than to
her.  "Just don't mess up my that bloody timer.  I don't want to come
back and fiund I've missed passions."  he mumbled as he walked out
the door.  Only when it slammed did Willow glance in his direction,
biting her lip as her nails started to scratch fervantly at her arms.

Spike sang his heart out as he sped back towards Sunnydale, the
rotting flesh of one bastard demon wrapped carefully in his bag.  He
was trying not to think about what Willow would do after the spell,
and focus on the part where she might be happy again.  His demon
raged inside him for such emotion, but he had lots of practise at
silencing it, and the music certainly helped to drone out the
internal din.

The vampire frowned as he entered the house and smelt the stench of
blood.  His widened as he raced for its source and found a pool of
Willow's blood streaked across the floor.  But no Willow.  he raced
out the bathroom and lunged for the bag.  If Willow was fighting for
her life the best way to help her was to give her the chance to
fight.  he started to set up the room ready for the spell, pushing
his concern for the red-head to the back of his mind as he tried to
centre his energy.  It was well into the night by the time Spike
settled into the circle of stones, holding the flesh in front of
him.  he began to chant, knowing the words by heart from the numerous
times he'd perused the book over the past year.  He pinched a section
of the putrid flesh and added it to the bowl in fron of him.  A
spiral of light mist emanated from it and drifted into the air.  He
fifnished the words and was out of the house as fast as he could blow
out the one necessary candle.  He headed for the hospital at first
but redirected himself half way after catching a hint of Willow's
blood on the breeze.  Everything seemed to go in slow motion as he
ran towards its source, into the graveyard.  And there she was,
kneeling in front of Buffy's tombstone with crossed legs.  her hair
blew around her shoulders in the light breeze, the darkness
highlighted by the brilliant moon.  Spike walked towards her, slowing
his face.  He stopped a few feet from her.
"Willow?"  he asked, trying to hide the trembling in his voice.
There was a moment of pure stillness in the churchyard, but for the
falling of one or two leaves, before Willow turned to look at the
vampire through her tear stained eyes and smiled.  Spike panted in a
reflex action to his exertions, edging a little closer to the girl as
he furrwed his brow.
"Spike."  that smile again, lighting up her face like the first star
in the heavens.  "Thank you."
"It worked?"  Spike said, scowling at the giggle with which she
replied.  Willow nodded as got to her feet.
"Yes, it worked."  She stepped slowly closer to the vampire, watching
him intently through beautifully clear eyes.
"You remember what happened?"  Spike asked, watching her movement
with mounting disbelief.  She nodded again as she stopped in front of
him and slipped her hand into his own.  He froze for a moment before
gripping the tiny palm, entwining his fingers with her own.
 

read the sequal 'Things Found'

back