Sang et Ivoire
By Holly
Chapter Twenty-Four
A maze through tunnels led from dead end to dead end. They weren't being pursued, he knew, but fighting to the outside was the prime focus, lest Geryon decide it was best to finish them off himself.
Against his chest rested the lifeless Slayer. No pulse coursed her veins; no life flushed her paling face. She was a dead weight in his arms. Gone, gone now. Robbed of her ever-deserved normality. Doomed if he was not fast enough - if he could not make it out in time.
Dawn was on his heels, tears sticking to her cheeks. She had not stopped crying since that fatal bite. Livid and discolored, muttering furious words under her breath. He wanted to stop and comfort her, but time was against him. They had to get out. For now, all other matters subsided in importance. There was nothing beyond escape.
"Why did he let us go?" she sobbed. It was the first thing she'd said since fleeing the main chamber. "He killed her. We shouldn't have been any problem."
"'E wants 'er to do it," William murmured, feeling short of nonexistent breath. He tasted he salt of his own sorrow. "Wants to get all the hurt 'e can manage with one blow. It'd be worse if it came from 'er. You see?"
Dawn sniffed. "I hate her."
"What?"
"She never stops. Ever. She can't...she turned herself into something she hates because she never stops."
William frowned. "She did it to save you, Bit."
"Yeah, well, it was stupid." Dawn's sobs showed no signs of relenting. "I would never wish that on her! Let the bastard kill me. For Christ's sake, she should let me make the sacrifice once in a while. It doesn't matter anymore, Spike! The slayer has an expiration date...right...but I'm not even human. Not really. Let me die instead!"
"You don't wanna die, sweets."
"But it's okay if she does?"
The vampire sighed. "Part of the fun of bein' a slayer...don't really get a say." The words struck his ears and fell unconvincingly. His eyes refused to linger on the being resting deathly still in his arms.
You really don't know what you've done, do you?
"Spike?"
"Yeh, pet?"
"Do you know where we are?"
He pursed his lips and frowned. "Got a hunch. Master needed a place no one'd think to look. I'm guessin' with all the debris, we might be in what's left of the Initiative."
"The Initiative?" Dawn echoed. "Didn't the government-"
William snickered. "Yeh. The government. Real reliable chaps. Can't rightly say, though. Master might've spent years makin' this place homey again." With reluctance, he looked to the precious bundle he was carrying, and a lump immediately formed in his throat. "Oh God," he gasped. "This is all my fault, Bit. I wasn't quick enough. I could have stopped it."
"How?"
"I dunno. But there's no way this was supposed t'appen." The vampire paused at last, taking Buffy's face into his hand with gentle affection. "There 'ad to 'ave been something I missed. She wasn't due to die, pet. She wasn't supposed to leave me."
Dawn blinked, drawing her hand across her eyes, wiping away stray tears. "You?" she demanded. "What about us? Me? It's all right for you to leave her...but when-"
William's eyes fell again, watering without suggestion. "You're right. O'course. Sorry. She wasn't supposed to die an' leave you, then. Or her precious Scoobies."
"She's done it twice before."
"Not like this," he replied softly, dangerously. "There's no comin' back from this, Bit. Not really. She can't've known what she's done. What she's condemned 'erself to. An ageless sleep. Wanderin' through self-constructed purgatory. Watchin' her friends and loved ones die as she goes on. Denyin' herself sunlight. Oh, my sweet." William's voice grew heavy with more tears, tracing a finger across Buffy's lifeless face. It was obvious he no longer spoke to Dawn. "Even if Red can fix this, even if she does, you'll have changed everythin' forever. Don't you see what you did? Don't you feel it?"
The young Summers girl began crying once more, turning away and continuing without direction. "We need to get her to Willow, don't we?"
The query drew William from his trance, and immediately, he snapped back to attention. Emotional outbursts faded to responsibility. It was hard trying to be the adult when all he wanted to do was mourn. "Yeah, luv, we do. Before she wakes up. We 'ave until tonight, I think. The sun'll rise 'ere shortly. 'F we don't get outta 'ere before then, you're gonna 'ave to run off. Get out as quick as you can."
"What if-"
"'F we can't manage that, I think I'll be able to hold 'er." That was a lie. A slayer mixed with vampiric strength and a soulless outlook on life was not a being he felt up to facing. Especially one carrying her face. "What she says or does, 'f it comes down to that...you know 's not 'er, right?"
"Right." Dawn knew, of course, but there was still doubt in her voice. "Just like you're not Spike."
Another pause. "Right."
A cold silence fell over them.
"Would you stake her if you had to?"
William drew in a deep, painful breath, as though the oxygen he needlessly inhaled poisoned his dead lungs. "I'd do everythin' in my power to make that the last resort, Bit. But 'f it came down to it...tha's what she'd want me to do. You know that, right?"
With a heavy sigh, Dawn looked down, eyes welling with more tears. "Yeah," she acknowledged hoarsely. "That's what Buffy would want. Even if we could help her? Make her better?"
"'F she's comin' at you, an' it's you or 'er...the Slayer would kill me then 'erself for hurtin' you." He paused, shaking his head free, as though attempting to cast away accumulating burden. "She did it to save you, pet. Because she loves you so much. Nothin' else could 'ave ever made her drink that blood. Not me, Red, Ripper, Harris, or even bloody Peaches. An' if we don' fix her before she wakes up, it'll be my fault. She's countin' on me, ducks. To get 'er to Red before she turns into something darker than the darkest evil imaginable."
"And we have until tonight?"
"'F slayer risin's like any other, then yeah."
Hours progressed with little advancement. They didn't trade more conversation, didn't speak lest it was a grumble of hunger or a suggestion of which corridor to take. William was entirely focused on their escape. He could carry Buffy for miles, and often felt that he had, but her weight never bothered him. When it grew almost deathly quiet, he would hear Dawn sobbing softly, expressing her grief for none other to share. This had hit her with more gusto than she could have ever anticipated. Despite numerous indications to blatantly scream the contrary, she never fully grasped what she meant to her sister. What Buffy was willing to sacrifice. There was nothing the Slayer hated more than the thought of turning into the creature she was born to kill, but when Dawn was on the line, the decision was made with no second-guessing. Perhaps in a haste, but the Slayer wouldn't be able to live with herself if she knew she hadn't done everything in her power to ensure her sister's safety.
William understood, though. Buffy's open affection was not easily obtained. After Angel's departure seven years earlier, the persona of doting ardor vacated her humor, rendering her hurt and dry. True, time enough had passed, and true, Buffy's love for his grand-sire was not what it once was, but she had never fully recovered. While her relationship with Dawn was typical inside the realm of sibling rivalry, her love for the girl was so pure that she gave everything to protect her. If her life weren't enough for such reassurance, certainly the willful embrace of an unlife served as all the clarification anyone would require.
He knew when it was afternoon, felt time slipping beyond his grasp with each passing second. And yet they couldn't be far. He had carried her forever and back and would again - however long it took.
Jus' stay with me, luv, he bade her. After all this, don' leave me now.
When they hit sunlight, it came as an abrupt surprise. Down a dark corridor one minute and hissing in blind shock the next. William leapt instinctively, reflecting his horror when Buffy's skin started to sizzle. The sight was so foreign on her - so new - he nearly forgot to pull her away in the midst of his astonishment. As he panted needlessly in the safety of shadows, ignoring the frenzied cries of Dawn's panic, he was overwhelmed with a fresh sensation of sorrow. "So unnecessary," he choked, barely aware he was speaking. "But I can see why you did it, luv. Because you're you, an' that's the sort of thing you do. Tha's why I love you so much."
Why were things always easier to say when you knew the person you were speaking to couldn't hear a word?
"Spike?"
William blinked slowly and looked up. "Bit?"
"We're out."
Indeed they were. He squinted through the endless acres of sunlit ground, protectively drawing Buffy closer in his embrace. The fading duster hugging her shoulders did well to hide what he could not. There was no way he could hope to perform one of his traveling tricks with this precious cargo weighing his responsibility.
"Nibblet," William murmured. "Get yourself outta 'ere...now. Go to Ripper an' Red an' tell 'em what happened. I'll be along when the sun sets. Tell 'em to get everythin' ready."
"No...I'll get Willow to come here. She-"
"You do that an' I'll never forgive you. None of your lot's to come near this place, understand? 'S too dangerous, and the Slayer would agree with me. 'Sides..." He drew in another needless breath. "Red needs to rework the spell. Make sure everythin' honky dory. She had it all revved for me, should I need it. She 'as until tonight to redo it again."
"What if Buffy wakes up before then?"
"I'll deal with it. 'S better that you're away 'f it 'appens...better chances of gettin' 'er back without 'avin' to worry 'bout you."
Dawn bit her lip, trembling. "You'll be all right?"
"'Course, pet. I can hold your sis."
She released a breath and met his eyes skeptically. There was such wisdom behind them, such understanding. A world full of growing up residing in one gaze. The look alone voiced everything he feared. "Slayer plus vamp strength?"
"Don' you worry 'bout me. Go on now. Get outta 'ere."
Honestly, William didn't expect Dawn to listen to a word he said. It was her sister in his arms, her sister that had once again given her life in ode to the continued welfare of another, her sister that would potentially awake darker than any creature the Scoobies had before encountered. With guised astonishment, he watched as she nodded in concession and cleared away, melting into the daylight where she belonged. Slow steps at first - then hurried. Accelerated until she was running hard - running, running, and out of sight.
He sighed and looked again to the unresponsive Buffy in his arms, caressing her cold face with curled knuckles. The heat he so enjoyed from her skin would never be regained. That energy. That spunk. That life.
"You hold on, now, luv," he whispered, settling against the wall, safely cosseted in the shadows. "I won' let you down."
He hoped he never got the chance.
There had never been a longer day. Under normal circumstances, William would have been intensely satisfied simply resting with the Slayer, feeling her against his chest, combing his fingers through her hair as he mapped out the already memorized contours of her face. He didn't like looking at her now. Didn't like seeing a face of death. It reminded him drearily of Drusilla - not in manner but in implication. Drusilla, Harmony, and every other woman of his kind that he had been with.
He dared not think of what could become of this, of everyone if he didn't get to Red in time. His mind traced the look of anticipated disappointment from Ripper. That notion that screamed 'I knew you'd bugger this up someday.' Though he knew logically stringing himself to the blame of this awful circumstance was unneeded and would likely be forgiven, a burden rested with him yet. Their last conversation reflected as much. Buffy had spoken out of hurt and concern, but she was right. However helpful his presence was in no way compared to the amount of strain it placed on her. Their continuous game had engaged her focus, even when he tried to break it off. A part of him so desperately wanted to give in to temptation that he hadn't been forceful enough in the insistence that they could never have what either wanted - and that much truly was at his blame.
And the last thing he said to her? Denouncing her love and refusing to admit his own? That his demon had left it to be his duty? As though loving her was some chore he grudgingly attended to instead of the pure agonized bliss that coursed through his system every time she displayed the barest smidgen of affection? She had seen through it, of course, but that didn't make things right. William wouldn't be able to go on if that was Buffy's last memory of him. Of them together.
Night eventually came, as it always does. The instant the sun began to droop, the vampire scooped his ladylove into his arms and rose steadily to his feet. Expected shivers of lingering daylight shot warning flares down his spine. It was nothing he was not accustomed to. When the last elements of danger melted into an evening sky, he bolted - running harder than he had in his long unlife, wondering why it felt someone had tied an anvil to his foot. Forever and a day passed before he saw the familiar sign announcing his arrival on Revello Drive. William sprinted for the Summers' doorway, leaning Buffy against his shoulder as he retracted an arm to pound against the frame.
The answer was almost instantaneous. Willow stood on the other side of the door, eyes wide as she motioned him inward. Behind her stood the rest of the Scoobies, watching with the same somber, fearful expressions. He didn't venture to look at Giles or Angel - didn't want to consider what he might find behind disapproving eyes. However, the minute he attempted to step inward, an invisible barrier pushed him back.
Surprise overwhelmed him, a loud, "BLOODY HELL!" escaping his unsuspecting lips. His first notion was - naturally - that in response to his failure, the lock had once again been placed on the house. The thought lasted only a second before his motor functions commanded him to catch the Slayer before she tumbled out of his grasp. Time was growing short if so many of the rules were already starting to apply. Gasping, he limped back to the doorway, ignoring the looks of grief-stricken horror that rebounded in response.
"NIBBLET!"
Dawn fought her way through the crowd, not looking to have advanced from the state she had left him in. Her eyes were swollen from crying, rimmed in red and shot with strained fatigue. It was obvious sleep was a luxury she had lacked for the past couple of days. The look she delivered was one of confusion, steady, and comprehension finally emerged.
"Come in!" she demanded hurriedly, and no sooner did he sprint forward.
A moment of awkward reflection commenced in instinctual consequence. The vampire dropped his head in shame before hazarding a glance in Ripper's direction. He looked worse than William had ever seen him. Disheveled and grief-stricken, rendered to a point where words were ineffectual to convey anything. He gazed sadly at Buffy for a long, helpless minute before meeting his companion's gaze.
"We..." So much fogged emotion behind his tone. He sounded liable to break at any minute. "We tried, Will. We tried so hard to find you. Willow attempted a locater spell that was inconclusive...Angel even called his associates back in Los Angeles. Wesley was on his way as of four hours ago...we haven't been able to reach him since..."
The Watcher trailed off, steadily stepping forward. Tears welled in his eyes and he ran a fatherly hand over his Slayer's forehead, quivering with emotion. "We weren't fast enough. Or thorough. I could have sworn we tore this town apart trying to find you. It...never occurred to me...the Initiative..."
"Didn't occur to the best of us," William replied unsteadily. Any minute, he expected a foray of accusing cries and glares, but blame placing seemed to be last on anyone's agenda.
Something squirmed in his arms, and his eyes went wide with alarm.
"Red, let's go! Kitchen!" Without waiting, he made a dash in the indicated direction. Another jitter coursed through her body, quivering against his as a moan squeezed through dead lips. William swiped the contents of the kitchen table away and placed her delicately atop the wooden surface. This was it.
"Nibblet," he commanded, not knowing if she was in the room, not paying attention. His eyes were focused solely on Buffy. "Go upstairs."
A voice of indignation rose from the back. "I-"
"Do as he says, Dawn," Angel said softly, moving out of Willow's way. No one looked to her as she left - hurt and belittled. There were more important matters.
"I don't know if this is going to work," the Witch said gently, tone sad but business-like. She handed Xander - who had yet to say anything and looked perhaps the worst of everyone - a cross and some holy water. The ever-dreaded 'just-in-case' material. "I mean...I didn't even get to try it out."
Another moan coursed through the air, and Buffy's hand moved.
"'S time to find out, Red," William urged hurriedly. "Get on with it!"
Everything was in readiness, and eyes were trading glances between the collected visage of Willow and the steadily arising vampire on the table. No one present had ever seen her perform the curse before, and while other magic had indeed been done - in the worst of ways - it was still an area of measurable curiosity.
William took Buffy's hand and held.
"Giles," the Witch indicated softly. He nodded and released a quivering breath, never having looked so defeated.
"Quod perditum est, invenietur."
Willow nodded once more to herself and began. "Not dead...nor not of the living. Spirits of the interregnum, I call. Gods, bind her. Cast her heart from the evil realm." The waves of dizziness projected struck their course as they had during the first incantation. Soon the flash would take her entirely. "Return. I call on..." And here it came. The next beat passed and the Witch was whisked away - down a sphere of powerful magic, magic she had touched before. Potions she had devised and spells she had tried with little success. Magic she had mastered so long ago. Magic she could control. And it consumed her - not in the sense of destruction; instead, she embraced a feeling of normality. It was as though she was coming home. "Te implor, Doamne, nu ignora aceasta rugaminte. Nici mort, nici al fiintei... Lasa orbita sa fie vasul care-i va transporta, sufletul la elle."
Buffy's body began to tremble. Initially soft tremors that grew in number and power. Then she was shaking from head to toe, thrashing on the table. Her grip clamped on William's hand, shuddering cries coursing through her form.
Giles looked to Angel with blind panic. "Did this happen to you?!" he demanded.
"No!" The alarm behind his voice had caused him to go up an octave, but no one seemed to notice. "It wasn't there, and then it was. I-"
They were drown out by a booming call from the back of Willow's throat. Her body shook with affect. "Asa sa fie! Asa sa fie! Acum! Acum!"
A spark filled the Orb of Thesula, flashed in brilliance, then faded. The Witch relaxed with a breath of much-needed air. Buffy abruptly ceased her outbreak of mini-seizures, her body lurching once more as a gasp clawed its way out of her throat. Then she slumped and relaxed once more, just as lifeless as she had been.
William bit his lip, hand still entwined with hers. No one else seemed willing to move, willing to breathe until they knew she was...and yet there was nothing. The moans had stopped; the twitching had ended. She lay there like a corpse - one never to rise again. Dead in every sense of the word.
At last, Xander spoke. His voice was rough with unshed tears. "Is she...I mean...that didn't...she's all right, isn't she?"
No one dared suggest an answer. William took a step forward, reaching to brush hair out of her face. No movement. He moved to sit beside her, cradling her with his presence. No movement. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her cold skin. No movement. Nothing.
Then she moaned. Once.
And again.
And again. Her hand suddenly stiffened, squeezing his in empty reassurance. A silent breath held over the room as they watched her. There had never been longer seconds. William was sure his heart had started beating again for fear of what he might see when she opened those glorious eyes. Never had a thought brought to him such fear.
Please, he pleaded silently. Please let me see 'er when she wakes. Please be there, luv. Please let me 'ave done this one thing right by you.
A flash and Buffy gasped loudly, her eyes flying open.