Sympathy for the Devil
by ComedyofErrors

Rating: NC-17 (Rape, Sexual Situations, Language, Violence)

Disclaimer:  I own none of the characters mentioned herein.  Some dialogue from the series was confirmed using transcripts from Buffyworld.com.

Response to Challenge #155 at the Bloodshedverse. AU after the first scene in Crush. Out on patrol Spike gets stung by a glarghk guhl kashma'nik demon and becomes lost in his memories. In an attempt to find out what's wrong with him, Buffy goes inside his mind and discovers the truth about William the Bloody.  Updates of this story will be sporadic; thank you for your patience.

 

Prologue

"You, Mr. William the Bloody, are the most self-centered person I've ever met!" Harmony pointed at him angrily, then crossed her arms and spread her feet slightly in a challenging stance. Her suitcases stood beside her just inside the door of the crypt.

Spike stared at her incredulously. It had already been a bad night. He'd gone to the Bronze to meet up with the slayer. Maybe get her to at least talk to him. He got brushed off of course. He tried to take it as casually as her other dismissals, but somehow this one continued to sting. He'd made a genuine effort to be friendly and she'd ordered him to leave. Later he saw her chattin' up the doctor bloke she met at the hospital. Spike'd gotten frustrated and taken Harris's change off the table to buy himself another beer. So stealing Harris's dosh wasn't friendly, but was picking up spare change evil? It was only a few bucks. He'd pay the boy back sooner or later.

Spike sighed. Had to get his jollies in somewhere. It wasn't as though he had much to do in the world, anymore. Chip kept him from being a proper vampire. Couldn't get a job in the demon community: he was a liability because he teamed with the slayer from time to time. Could get a job as a human, but no amount of cash was worth some fast food joint like the Doublemeat Palace. And it wasn't as though he needed money. He'd saved plenty over the last hundred years, but he preferred to live on what he could get by the means at hand. He just needed something to do with his time.

Spike had thought for a while that he might be, not welcomed exactly, but accepted by Goldilocks and her Merry men. He'd helped with the troll...and that Glory bint that went after the Nibblet. But he never got so much as a thank you for his pains. They acted like he was just a sodding convenience. And every time he did something remotely nice, it had to be because he had some dark, evil motive.

He did. He wanted people to care about him.

The feeling had been growing on him since Dru left him for good. Spike had no strong ties. His sire was gone. His grandsire hated him. Angelus couldn't bear to look at him or Dru while he had his shiny soul. They were his mistakes; dark, deformed creatures that reminded him of what he was capable of. Maybe if Spike had childer, he would have been alright. Wouldn't have been so fucking lonely. But he hadn't turned anything but minions since...but he didn't want to think about that.

Why he picked the Scoobies to get approval from, he had no idea. Well, he knew, but he wasn't about to admit that he respected them. They were the only people to get the better of him consistently in a century, so why wouldn't he respect them. One catch though. They didn't respect him. Spike used to be the Big Bad. They were scared of him. They tied him up even when they knew he had a chip in his head to keep him from hurting him. He was just a novelty now.

Spike thought he could deal with being a white hat. He could learn to play by their rules. He didn't care about causes anymore; good, evil, it hadn't mattered to him in a long time. If he was going to be a good guy, it would be because he had friends among the good guys. Or at least acquaintances that would care enough to pull him inside on a sunny day. But they just weren't willing to see. The things he did that contradicted everything his vampiric instincts told him to do didn't register with them. They were polite and selfless all the time. He hadn't been either in a century. It takes a while to get back into the habit. And he was trying, damn it, hard enough to give him headaches. Or maybe that was the chip. Either way, whiskey only went so far to help a migraine.

This evening just made him feel worse. Lonelier and more depressed than he had been since he'd been turned. Then he'd come home to find Harmony waiting for him with her suitcases. It almost made him laugh. Harmony was calling him selfish. Pot and kettle, anyone? She must have seen his disbelief, because she started spouting. "I know what you're thinking. You have no idea what I mean, do you? That's just typical. I pick up blood for you. I'm sweet, and I give you blow jobs, and I try to make this place livable. Un-livable. Whatever. And you just ignore me. You give nothing back."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "You're the one that came to me for protection from the slayer. I'm the one that cleans up, I go down on you, and I listen to you talk to your bloody unicorns. What the hell are you talking about?"

"That. Just...that." Harmony gestured vaguely. "You don't respect me. I'm your girlfriend Spikey! You're supposed to have some respect for me."

In light of the events of the night, Spike felt a twinge from the direction of his conscience. His eyes wandered to the floor. Harmony kept going. "It's always all about you. First you mope around because you can't kill the slayer, and now you mope around because you can't get her to sleep with you." Spike's head snapped up to stare at her. She huffed. "I'm not stupid. I've seen all that crap you've stolen from her downstairs. Well guess what, Blondie Bear. I'm tired of playing second to the girl you have sick fantasies about. You do realize she's the slayer, right?"

Spike rubbed his forehead. Another headache was working its way up from the back of his neck. "Yeah, Harm, I realize."

Harmony wrinkled her nose. "That's just wrong, Spike. But I don't have to deal with it anymore. I'm leaving you. So bye." She grabbed her bags and headed up the steps.

It was just Harmony. Harmony picking up her suitcases and walking out on him. Yet another woman he'd managed to drive away. His heart joined his head in the ache. He was a master vampire damn it! A bastion of the Order Aurelius. He wasn't supposed to feel guilt. He should be able to ignore his conscience and get on with life. But in keeping with his thoughts tonight, he couldn't stop himself from feeling guilty about the way he'd treated Harmony.

He hadn't really considered her his girlfriend. Fuckbuddy was the term that came to mind. Cryptmate. But that wasn't how she saw it. To her, in her perpetually teenage mind, he was her boyfriend. He'd betrayed her in thought, if not in deed. He used her the way other women used him by taking what she offered and not realizing that her heart was in it. He'd become a right bastard to put all that on her. "Harm!"

She turned to look at him, one suitcase propping the crypt door open for her dramatic exit. She set the other valise down to cross her arms again. "What is it Spikey? Gonna beg me to stay?"

He shook his head. "I..." his mouth felt dry. "I wanted to say I'm sorry. For what it's worth," he mumbled, looking down again.

Harmony looked shocked. "You are? Really?"

"Yeah." He swallowed, and forced himself to look her in the eyes. "You're right. I wasn't very good to you. Wasn't good to you at all. You deserved better. I'm sorry. And good luck, wherever you're going."

Harmony grabbed her suitcases and jumped back down to floor level. She tossed them aside and ran to give him a hug. "Oh, Blondie Bear, I knew you'd come to your senses. Now things can be so much better between us."

Spike pulled back, confused. "I thought you were leaving."

Harmony waved her hand in dismissal. "Oh, that. No, the suitcases aren't even packed. I just wanted you to realize how you'd been taking me for granted."

The bint played him. For half a moment Spike wanted to kill her. How dare she make him expose himself like that! Yet, everything she'd said was true. He couldn't blame her methods. It was something the average vampire would do. Spike had kept her around for his own sake, not to save her from Buffy's wrath. He wanted someone to fall back on. Someone beneath him, for a change. He was as self-centered around her as she'd accused him of being. And now, he could accept her back for the same reasons as before.

But if he was going to throw in with the forces of good, he might as well get used to being selfless. "Harm, I think you should pack up and go, for real this time."

She looked at him questioningly. "Why Spikey?"

He sighed. "Because, pet, I may realize that I took you for granted, but it's not gonna stop me from doing it again."

"But why?"
 

He hesitated. He'd gone this far; he might as well be honest. "Because I don't love you Harmony. And I don't expect to." He waited for the backlash.

She laughed. "Oh, that's okay. I don't love you either. But that doesn't mean we can't build a relationship on something else. We can go somewhere, get your chip out, and then you can be master of a town and I can be your queen. We'll have sex and support each other. It works for all kinds of married people."

Spike winced. She was managing to trample on the few relationship ideals he had left. "Maybe some people can do that Harm. But I'm not one of them. I don't see a future for us."

Harmony's brows furrowed and her voice got higher-pitched. "You really want me to go?"

"No." He could admit it. He still wanted a safety net. "But I think it's best for you if you do."

Harmony frowned. "Damn. Well this plan sucked." She kicked the ground with the toe of her high heel. "Do you want to have a little farewell fun?" She asked optimistically. She blinked at him and gave a coy smile.

Unimpressed by her attempt at seduction, Spike shook his head. "No. You need to get moving if you're going to get to shelter by dawn. Where you plan on goin'?"

She sighed. "I don't know. Maybe L.A. I've always wanted to go there."

________________________________________________________________________

Spike watched the bus leave. Harmony'd kept making excuses to delay her departure. She packed slowly, she whined, she claimed she'd miss him too much. In the end he'd carried her suitcases to the depot and bought her ticket himself. He'd been feeling compassionate enough to give her some money to help her on her trip. She was more than happy to accept. They wished each other luck and that was it.

He trudged slowly away from the bus station. He felt lost. And alone. So alone. A lonely vampire heading home to a lonely crypt. It was like being a human all over again. Powerless and defeated. Life just kept throwing him nasty surprises. He would be alright if he weren't so damned hopeful that things would get better.

'Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul' blah, blah, blah, 'Never asked a crumb of me.' Stupid bint had no idea what hope could do to a person when she wrote that. Hope was self-delusion. Hope was a tormentor. Better not to let hope drive you into going on if you were just going to be hit over the head again and again.

Lost in his thoughts, Spike didn't hear the demon. Didn't smell it or sense it until it was too late. He felt it sting him through the layers of his clothing. He leaped away from it, making the spine pull out of his flesh and leave a jagged cut. Vamping out, he whirled to see his adversary.

It was a Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik. Bloody great, he'd been poisoned. The creature, having finally realized that he was a vampire and not an easy meal, ran. Spike rotated his shoulder, trying to see if the spine had done any severe damage. No, it seemed to work fine.

He was a little boy sitting on the seashore, lost. His auntie had forgotten him in the press of his loud and annoying cousins. Nobody remembered little William. He was too quiet. It was lonely out here. It was getting dark. He didn't like the dark, there might be monsters...

Spike shook his head violently. The old wisp of a memory lingered at the back of his mind. The venom was starting to take hold. He'd better get back to the crypt, quick. Sure as hell didn't want to stand here hallucinating all night. He wasn't quite ready to dust in the morning sun.

Even so he paused on entering the crypt ten minutes later. It was too quiet. Not even the rats came in through the sewer anymore. He stripped off the now ruined brown jacket he'd worn tonight, grateful that his duster was safe. He tossed the coat over the sarcophagus and pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels out from under the stone slab. He set it on the particle board coffee table and dropped downstairs to shower and have a look at his still-bleeding cut.

The wound on his chest was beginning to heal, slowly. He wondered briefly about the dangers of the venom. It caused hallucinations, he knew that. He supposed the symptoms would pass, given time and blood. That's what happened when he got bitten by that damned adder in Romania.

He washed the spilled blood off under his broken pipe of a shower, then dressed in his normal clothes. Silly costume hadn't worked. Should have known the slayer'd never see him as normal, whatever he did. Bint didn't really want normal anyway. He went back upstairs and flopped into his comfortable arm chair. With practiced ease he downed a shot of Jack straight from the bottle, then sat back. It was still fairly early. Maybe the poison would wear off before morning and he could get some decent kip, now that Harmony wouldn't be around to whine.

He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Whatever his hallucinations were going to be, he doubted they could be that much worse than real life. Hell, right now he'd welcome a break from reality.

 

*****

Please let me know what you think! Thanks Linda!
 

Chapter 1

Dawn stood outside the crypt, debating about whether or not she should go in. She wasn't scared. It was just that...Spike might be sleeping. Yeah. The sun was still out, even if it was afternoon. She didn't want to bother him if he was tired. But she could at least say hi. Be polite. 'Hey Spike, I was just passing by your crypt. Thought we could hang out for a while.' Ugh. Her inner voice sounded like a desperate teenager. And since she was actually a mature several thousand years old, she'd just go in and say hello.

She pushed the rusty crypt door open slowly, gritting her teeth at the annoying squeaky sound. She stepped in through the opening and shut the door immediately. She didn't want her favorite vampire dusted by sunlight coming through an open doorway. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she looked around the open room. So. Spike's crypt. She'd been here first when Glory showed up at their house. It wasn't exactly clean, but it had the basics, like a mini-fridge and cable. Kinda cozy in a creepy way. Just right for a stylish vampire like Spike.

Speaking of. She spotted his hair over the top of his favorite arm chair. He must be asleep if he didn't hear her come in. She set her back pack down on one of the slabs next to a brown leather jacket. Spike wore the coolest coats. Wait a second, this was a tomb...eww, she wondered if the slabs still had bodies under them. And Spike slept up there, too. Gross. She picked her back pack back up and set it on the back of the sofa. Spike still hadn't woken up.

She walked around the far side of the sofa, not wanting to get too close to him in case he woke up and thought she was an intruder. He had his eyes open. That was weird. Maybe all vampires slept with their eyes open. But she didn't think they slept while sitting straight up in a chair. He wasn't even leaning against the back of the chair. His right arm rested by his side and his left was stretched out over the arm of the recliner. A bottle of whiskey was dangling from his left hand.

"Spike?" This was really starting to freak her out. She didn't think he was drunk, because the bottle was mostly full. Did vampires do drugs? She'd seen a couple of kids at school that were high and they were a lot more relaxed looking. Dawn walked slowly closer to him. She spoke a little louder. "Spike, this isn't funny. Wake up." She was standing right next to him now. He looked so...dead. Duh, vampire, but still. He wasn't even breathing. Spike always breathed. When she was at the crypt last time he even breathed during his sleep.

Nervously, she put a hand in front of his eyes and waved it up and down. Nothing happened. It was like he was staring at the far wall of the crypt. Dawn pulled her hand back, thinking. She leaned forward and prodded his right arm with her index finger. Nothing happened. She poked him in the ribs. Still nothing, and that one always worked on Buffy. She moved her hand up to his shoulder shook him.

The whiskey bottle slipped out of his left hand and shattered on the floor. Dawn screeched in shock and jumped back. Spike didn't move.

Dawn grabbed her book bag and ran out of the crypt. She needed to get Buffy. Spike needed help.

 

Books carefully balanced, Buffy pushed the door open with her hip and clutched her keys in her right hand. She pushed the door closed with her foot and walked toward the dining room. "Hey!"

"Dawn?" Joyce hurried out of the kitchen.

Buffy frowned. "No, it's me." She set her books down on the table.

"Is Dawn with you?"

Buffy stiffened. Dawn got out of school an hour ago. It only took fifteen minutes to get home. "Isn't she here?"

Joyce shook her head nervously. "No, she didn't come home from school today." She was getting worried. Dawn hadn't said that she was going anywhere after school. She always called if her friends wanted to go somewhere. "Oh Buffy, the news said something about people murdered - "

Buffy shook her head. Her mom had been really anxious since Glory made it into the house two weeks ago. And Dawn cutting herself and setting fire to her diaries hadn't helped with the post-op relaxation her mom was supposed to be getting. "It's not Glory. It has nothing to do with Dawn, I promise. Look, she probably-" the front door opened with a bang and Dawn rushed inside, "is here."

Joyce sighed, a sound that managed to mingle both relief and frustration. She crossed her arms and fixed her younger daughter with a determined stare. "Dawn Isabelle Summers, where have you been?"

Dawn panted, out of breath from running. "I went by Spike's crypt - "

Buffy's mouth fell open in shock. "You went to a vampire's crypt? In a cemetery? Without telling anyone?" She crossed her arms in an unconscious imitation of her mother. "Were you carrying a sign that said 'Vamp Bait' too? Because that totally would've made the look."

Dawn glowered at Buffy. "It was the middle of the day! Hello, sun light plus vamps equals dust?"

Buffy furrowed her brow in mock surprise. "Since when did you learn math?" Dawn persisted in shooting daggers at her. Buffy continued, "And that doesn't mean Spike couldn't have done something while you were in his crypt."

Dawn huffed. "Oh come on! You took us there so he could protect us!" In a quieter voice she added, "I feel safe with him."

"He protected you because I threatened to stake him if he didn't."

Joyce rubbed her temples. She and her sisters bickered when they were teens, but Buffy and Dawn managed to take sibling rivalry to ever expanding levels. Beneath the shouting, she knew that Buffy loved her sister and had been genuinely concerned for her safety. The fact that Dawn was 'the key' didn't enter into it. But it genuinely surprised her that Buffy thought so little of William. Ah but then, he didn't exactly show Buffy the more sensitive side of his personality.

Spike had to be the only person she knew with less self-confidence than Buffy. And they both attempted to hide their fears with biting sarcasm. Joyce knew that Buffy had endured torment while being a slayer that would have broken most other teenagers. If she was self-conscious, no one could blame her. Also, Buffy's history with men made her naturally distrustful of them. Her father, that vampire Angel, and Riley had all managed to leave her. It wasn't easy for Buffy to open up to others because she was afraid of being hurt again.

Joyce could see the same symptoms in Spike. He was kind and polite to her whenever he stopped by in the evenings, but around other people the nice boy inside withdrew. He was especially cautious around Buffy. He behaved as though she could crush him with one word. Him, a master vampire that had, heaven help them, killed two slayers previously, was frightened to his second death by Buffy. Joyce had begun to suspect that he might hold her daughter in higher regard than anyone else realized.

Buffy obviously saw nothing but the disdain for her that William worked so hard to project. It came naturally; he had tried to kill her, after all, something Joyce was surprised that she – Buffy's mother - could overlook so easily. She supposed it was because, somehow, she knew that he wouldn't try again in the future. Even with their history and that façade in place, Joyce would have thought Buffy was a bit more observant of Spike. Vampire or not, with or without that chip that kept him from harming humans, William would never allow anything to happen to Joyce, or Dawn, or even Buffy.

During their short stay with the vampire, he'd been cordial to her and friendly to Dawn. They even played cards for a while. And then the other night he'd taken care of Dawn when she ran away without ever being asked. Joyce couldn't bear to think of what would have happened if Dawn had been out there alone. In private, he was hardly the vicious killer the history books declared him to be.

From what Joyce could tell, William was lonely. She suspected that he had a lady-friend that stopped by at least occasionally, if the lady's sweater she'd seen at his mausoleum was any indication, but he wasn't close to her. He never mentioned her when he stopped by. He mentioned a demon name Clem from time to time. Rarely, other names came up in the conversation. His bookie's name was Teeth. Yet, with the exception of Clem, herself, and maybe Dawn, he had no one he really cared about. Or, more importantly, no one who really cared about him. Joyce tried to make him feel accepted in their occasional chats, but conversations about art and history could only accomplish so much.

William was alone, but he was afraid to reach out to anyone else. Joyce often wondered what it was in his past that made him so frightened of letting others near him. It wasn't just that awful woman Drusilla's leaving. Oh well. If Buffy really knew anything about the blonde vampire, she wouldn't be so quick to dismiss him. "Really Buffy, William has never done anything to threaten either myself or Dawn. He wouldn't hurt any of us, as you well know. As your sister said, you wouldn't have left us with him if you in any way believed he would."

Dawn smiled, triumphant. "See?"

Joyce turned to Dawn. "That doesn't mean you're off the hook, young lady. You shouldn't be running around loose with Glory around, and you are supposed to call if you're going over to a friend's house."

Dawn nodded. "I'm sorry Mom, I won't do it again, but - "

"I sincerely hope not."

Dawn was getting irritated. "Mom, listen. Something's wrong with Spike."

Joyce frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I went to the crypt, and...he was just sitting there. He wasn't asleep, at least I don't think he was, because I couldn't wake him up. It's like he's in some kind of coma with his eyes open." Dawn swallowed nervously. She felt a few tears burning in her eyes. "He needs help and I didn't know what to do."

Joyce went to Dawn and pulled her into a hug. She stroked Dawn's hair lightly. "You did the right thing Dawn by coming to get us. Buffy will go get Mr. Giles and they'll find out what's wrong with William."

Buffy was aghast. "Mo-om! Spike can take care of himself."

"Buffy Anne Summers. That man - "

Buffy rolled her eyes. "He's not a man, he's a vampire!"

Joyce leveled her eyes at Buffy. "That person has done a lot for us lately. And didn't he help you save the world a couple of years ago?"

Buffy fidgeted. "It was for selfish reasons."

"Well I, for one, am glad that William is that selfish, because none of us would be here if he weren't. So no more arguments. You can call Mr. Giles from the living room. You might invite Willow and her friend Tara to go with you, in case he's under a spell of some kind."
 

*****

Chapter 2
 

Giles stared into the blank eyes of the vampire. He could see why Dawn was so frightened. Frankly, he was unnerved as well. He pulled out his pen light and aimed it into Spike's left eye. The pupil contracted. Giles removed the light, and it dilated. He repeated the procedure on the right eye. Contract, dilate. That made a coma unlikely, not that there were any signs of trauma to begin with. "I'm not sure what to make of this, Buffy. It would seem that he is functioning normally, other than the fact that he doesn't seem to be in touch with reality just now."

Buffy crossed her arms in irritation. She looked over at the vampire in the chair. She'd said Spike could take care of himself, but now she wasn't so sure. He looked so...vulnerable. It surprised her. "Since when is Spike ever in touch with reality." Maybe that was a bit harsh. Her mom was right. Spike had been doing a lot for them lately. Without pay even. Weird. She sighed. "So now what?"

Giles straightened and put his light back in his pocket. "Willow, Tara, do you sense any magic at work here?"

Willow shrugged. She looked at Tara, who shook her head. They didn't need the herbs they'd brought with them to know that this wasn't a spell. "Nadda."

Tara tilted her head, looking at the immobile vampire. "His aura is kind of off. Like he's c-conflicted. Or thinking about s-something unpleasant. Almost like he's having a n-nightmare."

Giles frowned. "Do you think that this ailment has some psychological cause?"

Buffy shuddered unconsciously. This was Spike. Spike didn't go into a trance because he was unhappy. When life was rough Spike drank too much, and swore, and smoked. He wasn't the type to have a nervous breakdown. He didn't just sit in his chair and hide from the world. He always found something to do. Some way to get his mind off the bad and onto something else. Buffy sometimes secretly envied him for that ability to put an apocalypse on hold because he needed chicken wings. And no matter how bad things got, he could still crack jokes.

Well, maybe not when Dru left him. But he'd even gotten over that after a while. With Harmony. That one still made her go 'huh?' Buffy had credited Spike with better taste than that. But then, she was so distraught when Angel left that she'd fallen for Parker's lines, so...great, now she was comparing her love life (or lack of one) to Spike's to justify his boinking Harmony.

Since when did she justify Spike? Since when did she trust Spike? She hated to admit twice in one day that her mother was a better judge of people than she was, but it was true. Buffy trusted Spike. And that bothered her. She was surrounded by friends who were willing to do anything, including two increasingly powerful witches, and it was Spike she turned to. Not just because of his strength; because she trusted him.

Talk about a one-eighty. He was harboring Harmony and had tried to get his chip out not long ago. He'd been insulting and vile to her on patrol, even if he did help. He showed her Riley in that...place. He'd obviously enjoyed parading that before her. Yet in the midst of jeering her he was being useful.

Spike had helped Tara, helped troll victims, helped Dawn, helped Buffy's mom, and helped Buffy. It was so much easier when he was trying to kill her. It was hard to know what to think of him anymore. Used to be Spike was reliable: will work for cash, will betray for free. But now, Buffy kept having to remind herself sometimes that he was evil. Not often, since Spike's annoyingness and recent clingy behavior made it much easier to be suspicious of him. But still, it didn't do for a slayer to forget that a potential enemy was a potential enemy.

And yet in letting her sister and her mother stay with him, Buffy had been treating Spike as a potential ally. Because in those moments when she forgot he was an enemy, Spike seemed to forget too. Right now, Buffy'd welcome anyone, even a vampire, willing to stick it out and fight with her. She was tired of doing it alone. Her friends and her watcher could help, but in the end they still expected her to be the Chosen One. They looked to her for guidance. Spike thought for himself; he made all the right calls when Dawn ran away, maybe he could do it in other areas. That was reason enough to help him out of whatever this was. "So what do we do? Call a shrink?"

Giles shook his head. "I'm afraid that would only be useful if Spike were able to interact with that person. We need someway of finding out was going on in Spike's mind without his help."

"Oh!" Willow gasped. "I have an idea. We were reading this intermediate level spell the other day that allowed someone to enter another person's thoughts, as long as the other person was in a trance. I think that would apply here?" She looked to Tara for confirmation.

Tara thought for a moment and nodded. "It's worth a t-try. It's a form of astral projection into another being's mind. I don't know how it w-would work with a vampire's mind..."

Giles stared at the ceiling in thought. "Vampires have essentially the same brain structure as humans. I wouldn't think a spell for a human mind would malfunction on a vampire. Once inside the mind, however, there is the issue of the vampire's demon consciousness. It couldn't fail to be terrifying; might even be dangerous to the person trying to penetrate the vampire's thoughts."

"Then I'm the one going in." Buffy looked at the surprised faces around her. "What? I deal with demons all the time. Trust me, there's nothing in Spike's brain I can't handle." Slowly, the other three nodded in agreement. "So, what do I need to know about this spell?"

Willow frowned. "Well, this is mostly the meditation kind of spell, not the flashy 'fire extinguisher needed' kind. You'll sit across from Spike, Tara and I will chant, we'll light a candle, and you'll just kind of close your eyes. Voila, Buffy vacationing in Spike's head. You'll see a physical representation of whatever he's thinking about. You should be able to talk to him and try to convince him to come back to reality. The spell would end on its own if you both come back. We'll give you a rune to recite in case something goes wrong, so you can get out of there."

Buffy nodded. "Okay, let's do it." Maybe this would show her if her inexplicable trust in Spike was justified.

*****

Chapter 3

Buffy sat on a chair in front of Spike, breathing deeply as Willow chanted. The main room of the crypt faded from view. Suddenly, the crypt faded from view and Buffy was on her feet in a shadowy space. She tried to discern her surroundings but every time she thought she saw a familiar shape it disappeared. Once she was sure she was standing beside a chair, but it faded out an instant later. Something else popped up in its place. Light flashed intermittently and voices whispered out of nowhere. If this was Spike's mind, she couldn't imagine why he would hide in here. There were no constants. Nothing to hold on to.

Willow said she'd see three dimensional images of what was going through Spike's mind...was that what the flashes were? They were going way too fast for her to understand them. It didn't seem like there was a point to being here; if she couldn't see what was going on, she couldn't wake Spike up. Buffy was tempted to call out the words that were supposed to end the spell...and hadn't 'Let the spell be ended' been used way too many times? But she was here. She might as well wait a while.

After a few minutes she noticed that the pictures seemed to be slowing down. At least, she could see them better. Hmm. Maybe it just took a while for her to get up to speed on them. Bad pun, Buffy. Ooh, yeah, that was definitely a flash of Spike off to her left. She could see his radioactive hair. Hey, was that her? It looked like her.

More time passed. It felt like forever, but then a watched thought never uncoils. Ugh. Giles would roll his eyes over that one. Anyway. She watched the still shots in Spike's mind flip by. They didn't seem to relate to each other. The scene would go from some little kid, to a teenager and a woman, then bounce off to Spike and – Angel? No, must have been Angelus because they were wearing old clothes and Angel had long puffy hair. Maybe these were memories of Spike's. That would make sense, because in some of the shots he hadn't discovered peroxide.

She saw a picture of her and Spike in an alley. Yes, definitely memories. She recognized that alley; it was behind the Bronze. They'd been there the other night, talking about his slayer kills. She saw a flash that looked like Harmony then whoosh, back to people in old clothing. Same little kid, followed after a bit by the same woman, and the same poses of Spike and Angelus. Whatever these scenes had in common, they were stuck in repeat.

The memories reached the present time then started cycling again. Buffy strained her eyes, trying to get a good look around at the earliest memory. It was a little boy sitting on a beach at night and – he moved! Buffy jumped a foot backwards, certain that the child had turned his head toward her. He'd been crying.

The subsequent figures moved too. Not much, certainly not enough to understand what they were doing, but they did move. Buffy suspected that it wouldn't be much longer before Spike's memories became clear. She sighed. If only Spike himself would come into focus.

So maybe she was obsessing. Was it really such a big deal? Trust? Buffy knew she had problems trusting people. But she had her reasons. People usually turned out to be liars who said they'd take you to the ice show then skipped out or cheats who went to vamp whores. Okay, maybe that was just her dad and Riley. But if you couldn't depend on the people who were closest to you, how could you think about relying on anyone else?

Maybe if she figured out when she started trusting him, she could answer the question. Well, she hadn't trusted him when he stepped out of the shadows with those predatory movements and said he was going to kill her on St. Vigeous's Day. Did she trust him with Acathla? Did it actually start all the way back then, with their truce? No, not really. More like she believed that he would stick to his part of the agreement. Trust seemed to imply more than that; Buffy didn't feel that at that point Spike had her back then as he did now. He left her to Angelus so he could escape with Dru.

So not with the trusting when he kidnapped Willow and Xander. He nearly got Cordy killed! But then there was that strange conversation between Spike and her mom in the kitchen. Her mom obviously trusted him, even when Buffy didn't.

Buffy was tempted to award negative trust points for the Gem of Amara fiasco. Criticizing her abilities in bed, such that they were, and trying to kill her definitely damaged his credibility. Buffy supposed that she'd kind of ignored him for a few months after that since his chipped status meant he wasn't an issue. Then he was playing both sides when Adam was around.

She'd already covered trying to get the chip out and Harmony – oops, Buffy hoped she didn't show while they were at the crypt. The last thing she was in the mood to deal with was one of Spike's creepy girlfriends. So sometime between the kidnapping of the doctor Riley needed and now. Taking her to the vamp house wasn't a thing to build trust...

Buffy paused in her musings. She heard crying nearby. Without her realizing it, the memories had begun playing at a speed she could comprehend. Buffy turned around. She was on a rocky beach at dusk. She rubbed her arms as a chill breeze blew past. This was so real. If Buffy didn't know that this was Spike's mind, she would have thought she was actually in this place, where ever it was.

The crying was coming from a little curly-haired boy about five years old. He was dressed in short pants and a tailored jacket. The child was kneeling on the beach, all alone. Buffy looked around for parents, but no one was within sight. Jeez, who left a little kid out here all alone at night? No wonder the kid was crying. Buffy wondered what this had to do with Spike. Maybe the boy was a victim. She walked toward him, but the boy didn't seem to notice her.

"Hello," she said, kneeling down beside him. "I'm Buffy. What's your name?" He didn't respond. Didn't flinch, didn't look, just kept crying. Buffy was about to try again when a dog howled loudly at the moon.

The boy was startled, falling back on the sand. He raised his head and looked around for the dog with a forlorn expression. He had such piercing blue eyes. Buffy gasped. She recognized those eyes. And those cheekbones, half-hidden by still round cheeks. This was Spike. No, she corrected herself, this was William. He looked so innocent. That was all she could think. This little boy would become one of the most feared demons on Earth, but right now he just wanted his mommy.

*****Flash*****

The beach and William blinked out of existence. Buffy was in a courtyard between two wings of a large building. It seemed to be a school, judging by the number of children with books that were milling back and forth. They were all boys, none older than ten. Once again no one seemed to notice her; she was sure these kids would have commented on her obscene outfit if they had seen it. She looked around for William, assuming he would be here somewhere. The courtyard began to empty, probably the end of passing period.

Finally, she spotted a boy with curly hair kneeling by the building. William was older than he had been, taller, and with a more defined face. He was pulling something out of a puddle. It was a small chalkboard, with all the writing smudged. He looked as scared as he had on the beach. Suddenly the scene morphed to a classroom. William was standing at the front, next to a man in an ugly black suit. The professor.

The professor was holding a cane in one hand and tapping it lightly against the palm of the other. Buffy saw the chalkboard that had fallen in the water sitting on his desk. The professor began to speak. "Blackwell, you have proven once again how clumsy and foolish you are. Turn around." Obediently William turned, and then leaned over and grabbed his ankles.

The professor raised his cane and swung hard at William's rump. Buffy flinched at the impact. It had to have been horribly painful. Where did the guy get off beating a poor kid? It's not like accidents didn't happen. Buffy frowned, thinking of how many homework assignments she had intentionally skipped. The cane kept striking, to the count of twenty. William's classmates pointed and snickered at him. Will was not a popular boy.

When the teacher finished Will straightened painfully. He limped back to his seat with teary eyes. As Buffy watched him, he turned to stare at the back of his teacher's head. She noticed a flash of something like resentment flare behind his tears before he could hide it. She smiled. So far, she hadn't seen much in this kid to remind her of Spike the Big Bad. But that little shine in his eyes just then that said he wasn't as repentant and resigned as everyone seemed to think – that was her Spike. Her Spike?

*****Flash*****

Okay, seriously, this was making her dizzy. Buffy was in a fairly well-to-do living room. There was a group of people in the center. Two girls, one about fourteen and one about twelve, were sitting on a small sofa, weeping into their handkerchiefs. Beside the sofa stood a middle-aged woman that Buffy assumed was their mother. The mother was also crying quietly, but she was focused on a disheveled man standing before the sofa, literally hat in hand. He was crying too.

Beside the mother stood a young man that Buffy couldn't see very well from her angle. She strongly suspected that she was about to get a look at a teenage William. She walked around in front of the sofa, past the guy holding his hat, and gasped. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or just keep staring. William was about seventeen, standing stiffly beside his mother in a suit cut close to his body. He looked so thin and fragile, with wire-rim glasses and dark blonde curly hair.

He had that same expression he'd had as a little boy on the beach. Lost. Forlorn. Buffy always thought it was a vampire thing, but in actuality Spike's eyes were intense and raw no matter how young he'd been. They made the teen in front of her look much older than he was. Buffy had to stop herself from putting a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

Buffy shook herself. She wasn't supposed to be just standing here and reliving Spike's memories with him. She was supposed to be trying to reach him. She cleared her throat and walked straight into William's field of vision. "Spike!" she called. No answer from him and no one else moved. "William!" Still nothing. Dammit, how was she supposed to get him out of here if she couldn't even get him to hear her?

Everyone except Buffy was staring at the admittedly plush rugs on the floor. Suddenly William moved next to her, lifting his head to look at the rumpled little man before him. His eyes had cleared. They were still bright and teary, but there was anger behind them. The tiniest beginnings of authority. "Did he suffer?" Whoa, that wasn't Spike's voice. That was all refined and Giles-y. Actually, with the glasses and the suit, William was kind of like Giles squared. Ugh, worse. He was almost Wesley.

The guy William was talking to raised his head for a moment, but didn't make direct eye contact. "No Master William, I don't believe so. Your father was gone before we got to him."

Buffy saw the woman – William's mom – stand a little straighter. She spoke softly, "We shall be grateful for that mercy, then." Her children nodded. William whispered something in his mother's ear and she nodded. The teen went to his sisters on the sofa, mumbled something about adjourning to pray, and led them out of the parlor. Buffy followed them to another room, less grand but comfortable. The three siblings sat down together on a couch, with William in the center. His baby sisters clung to him, still weeping, as he did his best to comfort them.

Watching the grieving children, Buffy finally felt like she had the gist of what was going on in Spike's mind. The only thing these memories had in common was the utter badness of what happened to Spike, er, William, in them. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting when Giles started talking about psychological causes for Spike's not coma, but this wasn't it. Spike was a demon. He should be bothered by burning up or being staked or starving.

So far, Buffy'd seen memories about being abandoned, humiliated, and losing someone he obviously loved. These things were all so...human.

*****

Chapter 4

*****Flash*****

This memory took place in a bedroom. Buffy knew instantly that it was someone's sickbed. There was a feel to the atmosphere that said death wasn't far away. She was a slayer; she knew death. She got the same feeling from hospitals. When her mom was having surgery for the tumor, Buffy'd dreaded the thought that her mother was going to add to that feel of decay in the air.

William was sitting on a chair beside the bed. He was about Buffy's age, twenty or twenty-one, looking solemn and very pale. He was holding the hand of the girl on the bed; it was the elder of his two sisters. She was sweating, with rivulets of liquid flowing down her gray-tinged skin. With some effort, she opened her eyes. Her free hand reached out to touch William's face. He smiled at her and murmured, "Hello dearest," in a tear-roughened voice.

She smiled back at him. "Tears for me, Will? They are somewhat premature. But I do not believe it shall be long before they are timely."

Will shook his head sadly. "Do not say such morbid things, kitten. Dr. Gull tells us you will be well soon."

Buffy could tell the doctor had said no such thing. Spike always had been a bad liar. His sister seemed to agree with her. "Brother, you have no talent for deceiving. You never have. And I have traveled far past the point at which I could have been deceived."

William was weeping openly now. Buffy felt her own eyes becoming moist. Will grasped both the girl's small hands between his large palms. "I am so sorry that I cannot offer you some comfort, sister."

"I have comfort enough. I will see our younger sister again soon; she and I shan't have been apart more than a few hours."

Will nodded. "You must tell her how much Mum and I miss you both already."

The girl's eyes drifted out of focus. "She knows. She would want to make sure that you care for Mother. Mum will be lonely."

William gave her a sincere pledge. "I shall always see to her needs. And you know I shall never break a promise to a lady."

The girl tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a cough. "Oh Will, you would have done so without a promise. And you have never broken a vow to anyone."

Will nodded, head bowed. "I love you so much, Rachel."

The girl tried to answer, but she didn't have the time. Buffy saw her body go rigid for a moment, then limp. Her eyes fixed and her breathing ceased. William gasped in surprise. A moment later, he lifted a shaky hand to close her eyes. Carefully, he placed his sister's hands on her stomach.

William slid to his knees and buried his face against the side of the bed, his body wracked with sobs.

*****Flash*****

Buffy wiped the tears out of her eyes. That was something she'd rather not have seen. It was too intimate. She had a sister of her own. Key or not, she loved Dawn. That's what this was all about. She needed help against Glory to keep her sister safe. Maybe that's why Spike was so interested in Dawn; she reminded him of his sisters.

Buffy saw that a new memory had started while she was distracted. It was in the same living room where William's family had been when they heard about his father's death. None of the furniture had been changed, but it was beginning to show signs of wear. It looked as though William and his mother could afford to keep things in order but not to replace them.

William was standing beside the fireplace at one end of the room, staring into the flames. Buffy watched his face as the fire light flickered against it. His face had aged little since his sister's death, but his eyes were tired. Buffy could tell that he was very near the age at which he'd been turned. Maybe it wouldn't be long before she could finally escape the oppressing truth of Spike's human history.

There was a man in a suit carrying a small black bag beside him. Buffy hated this memory already. The man was a doctor, who looked sad about the news he was delivering. Will's only remaining family was his mother. Buffy didn't want to know about her. She didn't want to hear a doctor telling William that his mother was dying. But the two men spoke anyway.

William asked quietly, "How long does she have, Dr. Gull?"

The man sighed. "Six months. At most."

William nodded.

All the fear Buffy felt when the doctor told her the horrible news about her own mother came rushing back. Too much. It was too much. It was bad enough having to go through this once without having to relive it with William. Without having to have this common bond with Spike. Now whenever she looked at him she wouldn't be able to ignore that he'd been human once. That he'd had the same concerns she'd had. He could never be just a demon to her again.

She was leaving now before she saw anything else. Yes.

No. She couldn't. She still needed him, damn it, even though he couldn't seem to hear her when she spoke to him. She had to find some way of reaching him in here. She could see now how he could get lost in his mind. These were the kind of memories that haunted you; the kind that sucked you in until they were all you could think about.

*****Flash*****

Buffy sighed and braced herself for the new memory. She looked around the Victorian ballroom she found herself in. These people had serious money. All the women were wearing flowing silk gowns and the men were in old fashioned tuxedos. They didn't exactly look like William's crowd. He was kind of stuffy for these people. Buffy spotted him off to one side. He was about the same age he'd been in the last memory. He was sitting on a chair, paying no attention to the dancing and conversations going on around him.

He was scribbling in a little leather bound book and muttering to himself. "Luminous... oh, no, no, no. Irradiant's better." William, soon to be Spike, was a writer. Buffy walked closer, curious to get a look at what he was writing.

A snooty waiter walked up to William and asked him, "Care for an hors d'oeuvre, sir?"

 
William seemed annoyed by the interruption. "Oh, quickly! I'm the very spirit of vexation. What's another word for 'gleaming'? It's a perfectly perfect word as many words go but the bother is nothing rhymes, you see."</>

No. No way! Buffy started giggling. Then she started laughing. By the time the waiter moved away she was bent almost double, trying to catch her breath in the middle of a laugh attack. Spike used to write poetry. Poetry! She stumbled over to have a look at the pages. She'd figured out by now that he wasn't exactly a macho man as a human. He'd become a fighter after he was turned. But she'd never expected him to have been such a ...well, Spike would call William a pansy.

And he hadn't even written good poetry. Buffy'd tried to write a few poems for English classes, but none of them had been as horrible as the one William was working on. He obviously knew more about the structure of poetry than she did, but he was even worse at coming up with something decent. Judging from all the crossed out words, William was having a terrible time with this one. It was about some girl. Just then William looked up into the crowd and smiled with rapture. "Cecily..." he sighed.

 
Buffy followed his gaze and winced. She could see where this was headed. She watched with sympathy as William packed up his poetry and stood to go address the aristocratic lady he'd obviously been writing poems about. This wasn't going to be pretty. This was going to be like Jonathon asking out Miss America and honestly expecting her to accept.</>

William wove awkwardly through the people separating him from Cecily. He found her near some men and women talking about recent murders. Buffy pricked up her ears to listen to the conversation. A guy with an ugly mustache was speaking. "I mean to point out that it's something of a mystery and the police should keep an open mind."

Another man saw Spike creeping around the outside of the circle. With a condescending laugh he called to him. "Ah, William! Favor us with your opinion. What do you make of this rash of disappearances sweeping through our town? Animals or thieves?" Buffy suspected that it was vampires. Maybe members of Order Aurelius?

William was obviously irritated to be in the spotlight, since it prevented him from continuing to move toward Cecily. "I prefer not to think of such dark, ugly business at all. That's what the police are for. I prefer placing my energies into creating things of beauty." He glanced adoringly at Cecily.

 
While he was distracted a third guy snatched William's book of poems. William grabbed for it but the taller man pulled it out of his reach. Buffy tried to grab the book, instinctively wanting to prevent their making any more fun of William, but she couldn't get to it either. She kicked the jerk holding it full force in the shin, but he didn't react. He laughed and said, "I see. Well, don't withhold, William."</> 

Mustache-man was laughing too. "Rescue us from a dreary topic."</>

William had given up getting his book back and was just trying to keep it from being damaged. "Careful. The inks are still wet. Please, it's not finished."

The one with the book looked like he doubted that smeared ink was the biggest thing William had to worry about with his poetry. "Don't be shy. 'My heart expands/'tis grown a bulge in it/inspired by your beauty, effulgent.'" He gave a wussy laugh. " 'Effulgent?'"

 
They all laughed, not caring the slightest for William. Cecily walked off, looking irritated. William frowned and finally succeeded in grabbing his poems from the man Buffy'd kicked. Wearing a hurt expression he started to trail after Cecily.</> 

Buffy heard the rest of the conversation distantly as she followed William. "And that's actually one of his better compositions." "Have you heard? They call him William the Bloody because of his bloody awful poetry!" "It suits him. I'd rather have a railroad spike through my head than listen to that awful stuff!"</>

So that was how William got his vampire name. These must have been the people he killed with a railroad spike. Buffy couldn't help thinking that they were no loss. Buffy groaned as she watched William timidly approach the seated Cecily. Buffy already didn't like her. Too stuck up. "Cecily?" William breathed.

She'd been trying to ignore him, but William wasn't getting the message. Exasperated she deigned to look at him. "Oh. Leave me alone." Yep, just as much of a cold bitch as Buffy'd figured. Spike had poor taste in women in any century.

 
William gestured nervously to the people who'd made fun of his poetry. "Oh, they're vulgarians. They're not like you and I."</>

Cecily was offended, like being grouped with William was an insult to her dignity. "You and I? I'm going to ask you a very personal question and I demand an honest answer. Do you understand?" William wavered, then nodded. "Your poetry, it's... they're... not written about me, are they?"

He fiddled with the binding on his journal. "They're about how I feel."

Cecily gave a dramatic, frustrated sigh. "Yes, but are they about me?"

Buffy, who knew rejection loomed, was ready to beg him to say they weren't. "Every syllable."

"Oh, God!" Cecily moaned. 'Yeah,' Buffy thought, 'like you're some prize.'

William babbled on. "Oh, I know... it's sudden and... please, if they're no good, they're only words but... the feeling behind them... I love you, Cecily."

Cecily was appalled. "Please stop!"

The devotion in William's voice was heartbreaking. "I know I'm a bad poet but I'm a good man and all I ask is that... that you try to see me-"

Cecily spoke slowly, trying to make sure he got the point this time. "I do see you. That's the problem. You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me." Cecily stood and walked away, sparing not even a backward glance for William. Buffy frowned. Where had she heard those words before?

William sat devastated for several moments. Then he stood and ran for the door. Buffy followed, chasing after him as he left the building the party was in and ran out into the stone streets of London, leaving a trail of shredded paper. His poetry. He collided with a tall, dark-haired man and two women, barely pausing to mutter, "Watch where you're going!"

Buffy saw one of the women turn back to watch William run into an alley. It was Drusilla. So this was how it happened. How William died. Buffy watched Drusilla approach him. He was afraid at first, then curious, then just happy that finally someone wanted him. When Dru showed him her game face for the first time, he was startled, but welcomed it.

Buffy sighed. That wasn't how William deserved to end. Buffy'd begun to feel protective of William, even knowing what he was going to become. He was right when he said he was a rotten poet but a good man. His turning wasn't his fault; he just desperately wanted to be understood. She felt sad now that William was gone, and that Spike was all that was left of the poor, lovesick poet.

******

Chapter 5

*****Flash*****

It was dark. No light shone at all. Buffy could hear frantic breathing and frightened whimpers. She heard the sound of wood breaking. Then digging. Not the sound of a shovel entering the ground, the sound of hands ripping at the earth. She heard clods of dirt falling onto wood. Once she heard flesh tearing and a cry of pain. The sounds seemed to last for hours.

Suddenly there was moonlight shining on an open plot of ground filled with trash piles. Buffy saw beside her something she'd seen a thousand times in her life as a slayer. A fledgling was rising. A hand shot out and clawed for support on the smooth ground. Slowly, the fledge crawled from the coffin he'd been buried in. He'd been hidden here, not in a cemetery. Well, this was London. Watchers would be watching the normal burying grounds.

With a last push the exhausted, bleeding vampire fell out unto the ground, weeping, and gasping for air he didn't need. William the Bloody had been reborn.

*****Flash*****

And they were back at his house? It was the same living room, unchanged from the night the doctor told William about his mother. Buffy knew that a lot of vampires went back for an easy first kill. It shouldn't have surprised her. Angel'd done the same. It was just that she'd had higher hopes for Spike, having now seen him as William. But then if this was one of his bad memories, maybe he came to regret what happened tonight.

Spike and Dru were standing by the fire. He was covered in dirt and his clothes, the same ones he'd been wearing at the party, were shredded. Dru was looking at her childe with a puzzled expression. "You...you want to bring your mum wif us?"

Spike seemed surprised by the question. "Well, yeah. You'll like her."

Dru gave him an affronted look. "To eat, you mean?"

Oh, Spike. Of all the foolish things to do. But he wouldn't have known. Buffy'd seen people she knew that'd been turned. They were so happy to be vampires. Like dying solved all their problems. That must have been what it was like for Spike. No more whippings, no more people making fun of him, and no more worries about William's mom. For once, he got to be the hero that saved the damsel.

William's mother came into the room and saw Spike by the fireplace. "William?" She asked timidly.

Spike pulled Dru towards him nervously, looking every bit the guilty little boy. "Uh, mother."

His mother was relieved to see him, but was irritated all the same. "Where have you been? I've been beside myself for days."

Spike smiled happily. "You needn't have worried, mother. You'll never have to worry about anything again. Something has happened. I've changed."

The poor woman looked at him in confusion. "I—I don't— Who's this woman?" She gestured toward Drusilla.

"I'm the other that gave birth to your son." Buffy shook her head. Dru and her psycho-babble. That almost made since, though.

The older woman's mouth fell open in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

Spike was delighted by Dru's speech. Well, it matched his poetry. "It's true, mother. Drusilla—she...she has made me what I am. I am no longer bound to this mortal coil. I have become a creature of the night. A vampire."

Oh, Buffy knew that expression. Universal mom disbelief. She got that one all the time. "Are you drunk?"

Spike looked at the ground, embarrassed. "A little bit." His head shot up when his– William's– mother coughed. "Think of it. No more sickness. No more dying. You'll never age another day. Let me do this for you."

The lady tilted her head to the side in confusion. Buffy was startled by the gesture. That was something that Spike did to this day. "What are you talking about, a-and why are you acting so strangely?"

Spike stepped up to her, pulling her into a hug. "It's all right, mother. It's only me. We'll be together forever."

"William..."

Spike shifted into game face. "It only hurts for a moment." He leaned down and gently bit his mother's neck.

The scene morphed like it had when William had dropped his chalkboard in the water at the school. That must mean that this was the aftermath of the turning. Buffy had an idea how it was going to play out, since she sincerely doubted that this woman was still out there somewhere. William's devotion to her had carried over into Spike; he wouldn't have left her alone somewhere. Spike was on the sofa in the living room, but stood up when music began to play. It wasn't a song Buffy recognized, but it was pretty.

"Mother?"

She walked in holding a music box. She certainly looked better than she had before. Less ill. She smiled at Spike. "Hello, William."

"Look at you." His smile was radiant. So full of joy at seeing this woman happy and well. So proud because he was the one that did it. There wasn't much of the Spike Buffy knew in that smile. Maybe at this point he was still William. Just with fangs. There was no sarcasm. No hate. Just sincere...love? Could vampires love without a soul? Angel hadn't.

She nodded. "Mm, yes. All better."

William still looked like he loved his mother. "You're glowing."

"Am I? Well, I suppose I have you to thank for that, don't I?" She set the music box on a table. "How ever will I repay you?"

Five of the memories she'd seen so far were about people William loved. Judging by them, everything in William's human life had been about love, even his poetry. Maybe love was so important to him that he kept imagining he loved his mother after he died. "Seeing you like this is payment enough."

His mother smiled. "Oh, William, you're so... tender." She patted his face. Buffy thought, in looking at her, that she seemed colder than she had been while alive.

William was still smiling. "Well, this is as it should be, mother. You and I together. All of London laid out before us."

"Ah, yes. Us." Buffy could hear underlying contempt in that voice that seemed to escape William. He might be fooling himself into thinking that he still loved her, but she had stopped loving him. He just didn't know it yet.

He smiled happily beside his dear restored mom. "First, we'll feast. Then the night is yours. Theater, perhaps. Dancing? Tell me," he patted her lightly on the shoulder, "what's your pleasure?"

She turned to look at him with a cold, cold smile. "Pleasure? To take my leave of you, of course. "The lark hath spake from twixt its wee beak?" You honestly thought I could bear an eternity listening to that twaddle? I feel extraordinary. It's as though I've been given new eyes. I see everything. Understand... everything," she finished with a frown at William.

Buffy knew that had to have been more of William's poetry. She must have encouraged him about it when she was alive, the way parents did when their kids handed them drawings that could have been of houses or pink elephants. He was finally beginning to realize that something was wrong here. "Mother..."

William's mother was beginning to creep Buffy out. She was still smiling. "I hate to be cruel— No, I don't. I used to hate to be cruel in life. Now, I find it rather freeing. Nothing less will pry your greedy little fingers off my apron strings, will it?"

William was hurt and becoming upset. It was a low blow, that after all the people he'd lost, his own mother was rejecting him. Because he really seemed to believe that he was talking to his mother, not a demon. "Stop. Please."

She slinked closer to him. "Ever since the day you first slithered from me like a parasite..."

"What're you s - "

"Had I known better, I could have spared myself a lifetime of tedium and just—dashed your brains out when I first saw you." She whirled, turning her back on the confused fledgling. "God, I prayed you'd find a woman to release me, but you scarcely showed an interest. Who could compare to your doddering housebound mum? A captive audience for your witless prattle."

Buffy watched the emotions crossing William's face. Concern, fear, confusion. Some anger, but he stifled it. Respectfully, he murmured, "Whatever I was, that's not who I am anymore."

She laughed. "Darling, it's who you'll always be. A limp, sentimental fool. You want to run, don't you? Scamper off and cry to your new little trollop. Do you think you'll be able to love her? Think you'll be able to touch her without feeling me?"

Whoa. Okay, seriously freaking here. "All you ever wanted was to be back inside." She caressed his face in a way more than motherly way. "You finally got your wish, didn't you? Sank your teeth into me. An eternal kiss."

William stumbled back, appalled. Buffy knew he had no such ideas; even as a freshly turned vampire he was curiously innocent. "No. I only wanted to make you well."

"You wanted your hands on me. Perhaps you'd like a chance to finish off what you started."

William pushed her back as she advanced on him. Buffy could see that he was trying desperately to understand why this wasn't his mother anymore. "I love you. I did. Not like this."

She nodded. "Just like this. This is what you always wanted. Who's my dark little prince?" She tried to kiss him!

He shoved her away and she hit the ground. "No!" He screamed, looking around like he wanted a way to escape what was happening to him.

His mother got to her feet and grabbed a cane. She swung it at William. "Get out. Get out!" William wrestled the cane away from her, breaking it in the process. Suddenly she transformed to vampire face. "There, there, precious. It will only hurt for a moment."

Buffy saw in his face the exact moment that William realized what he had to do. It was his final act of...love. "I'm sorry." He shoved the broken cane handle through his mother's heart, and her game face disappeared. She looked like his mother again, smiling for a fraction of a second before she crumpled to dust.

William fell to the ground before the pile that had been his mother. Tears leaked out of his eyes, and Buffy heard the occasional sniffle. He drew his legs up to his body and began to sob, as he had for his sister.

Buffy watched him as he grieved. This went beyond acting the part of loving son. William really had loved his mother, even after he lost his soul. It shocked her that that was possible. She'd always figured that Spike was just obsessed with Dru, not in love with her, but now she wasn't so sure. He'd stuck with her even when she cheated on him. What other reason could he have, besides love?

But Angel hadn't loved her. Not when he lost his soul. Did that mean he didn't love her as much as she thought he had? William's mother had certainly loved him in life. But as a vampire she didn't. Maybe William's mother and Angelus had stronger demons than Spike did.

That didn't make sense though. Buffy'd fought both Angel and Spike when they let their demons out. Spike had come far closer to beating her in combat than Angelus. Maybe it wasn't about the demon. She'd been thinking earlier that these memories of Spike's were about human things. Maybe there was more humanity left in him than she realized, and less in Angelus.

_______________________________________________________________________

Giles stood to one side of the crypt, watching its other occupants. Willow and Tara were sitting side by side on Spike's sofa, staring at some sort of cooking show. Spike himself was as inert as he had been when they arrived. And Buffy hadn't twitched since entering Spike's mind over an hour ago. His eyes focused on her more often than not, since he didn't see the joy in watching someone on the telly cook a horrible American version of Shepherd's Pie.

Her breathing was steady. When he was certain that the young witches weren't aware of his actions, he would take her pulse. It was more rapid at some moments than others, which he found curious. Apparently whatever Spike was experiencing was having a profound affect on Buffy.

That was a bothersome thought. It was bad enough having to send her on missions where she could be killed by demons, turned, or critically injured. He'd lost more sleep than he would have believed possible over nightmares in which he sent his slayer out to her death. But having her stuck inside the mind of this vampire was worse yet.

There were too many things that could go wrong. Astral projection was a risky affair. If the person projecting was drawn too far out of herself she might lose the ability to return to her body. She'd die, without ever having the chance to defend herself. And what was she seeing in there? Torture, turnings, images more disturbing still? If she brought Spike back out, what kind of emotional damage would she have suffered? Giles would rather have lost an ally and let Buffy keep her peace of mind.

Spike was a boon to them, of course. He was annoying, caustic, disrespectful, and had atrocious taste in television programming, but he had saved Buffy's life many times. For that, Giles couldn't say that he regretted Spike assimilating himself into their lives. But he wasn't worth sacrificing Buffy.

The crypt door swung open suddenly, and Xander popped inside. "Hey, so what's the 411 with Fangless? Anya said something about him being a tomato."

Giles sighed. "She means that he is in some form of vegetative state."

Xander snorted. "So he sprouted roots?"

An unexpected voice answered him from the recesses of the crypt. "No. It's her what's growing roots in my boy's head. Twisting 'em together."

In a single fluid motion Giles grabbed his crossbow, swung it in the direction of the voice, and flipped on his hand torch. He searched the dark for the source of the words. A shadowy figure stepped slowly forward. A woman, tall and pale, with dark hair. One he recognized from years past, when he was tied to a chair. "Drusilla."

She smiled.

*****

Chapter 6

Giles heard Willow and Tara moving off the sofa, headed for the relative safety of the sarcophagi where Xander was standing. He kept his eyes focused on Drusilla, hoping that the three young people would not attempt anything rash. Drusilla might be insane, but she was still a master vampire. One with powerful thrall.

Giles lowered his flashlight as Drusilla stepped out of the shadows. Apparently she'd come up through a trap door in the floor. He tossed the light onto the sofa so that he could better aim his crossbow. As much as he wanted to fire a bolt at Spike's sire, he couldn't take the chance of missing her heart and inciting an attack. Buffy was between himself and Drusilla; she'd be the first victim. Giles edged closer to the chair holding his slayer.

Drusilla smiled at him. She closed the remaining distance between herself and her childe. She put a hand on Spike's forehead, as though checking him for fever. She petted his head lightly. "Poor boy. Needs his mummy. Not her!" She finished with a hiss, pointing at Buffy. Her head whipped around to stare at Willow and Tara. "Taste like the garden, they do. Put her in my sweet William's head. Nasty weed." She tilted her head back, looking at Giles again. "They can take her out."

Giles shook his head. "No, that decision is Buffy's. She'll come out when Spike is ready to come with her. She's helping him."

Drusilla stamped her foot angrily and put her hands on Spike's shoulders. "No! No, no, no. She's not the cure. Pricked by a nasty, he was. Pushed deep inside, poisoning him against me when I come to take him back to his family."

Giles frowned. "You know what happened to Spike? Was he attacked by something?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Ugly. Plunged in deep, put ideas in his head." One of her thin hands ghosted down to stroke a spot on Spike's chest.

Giles risked a look to Xander. He nodded for the boy to come over. Drusilla watched Xander approach with curiosity. Giles handed Xander the crossbow. He stared Drusilla full in the eye. "May I see?" She regarded him suspiciously, but moved back from Spike.

Giles leaned forward and pulled down the collar of the vampire's tee-shirt. A thin, relatively fresh cut was visible. Spike had been cut by something. Poisoned? Giles schooled himself to speak in as slow and clear a manner as possible. In essence, he was talking to a violent, two-hundred year old child. "Drusilla, we want to help Spike. We want him to come back here, and to get Buffy out of his mind. Now to do that, we need to know what did this. Can you tell us what demon hurt him? You said it gave him ideas."

She nodded sagely. "Pale and tall and big. Gentlemanly. Doesn't eat you when first you meet. Makes new worlds with every sting."

"New worlds?" Giles queried.

Drusilla laughed gleefully. "Oh, yes, the magician. Rabbits and ducks. Pulls 'em out of your head!"

Giles tried to sort through the clues he'd been given. It would all be so much simpler if she could speak in plain English. He pulled his glasses off, polishing them nervously on his jacket. "A demon that stings its prey. The venom has a debilitating effect, allowing the demon to feed at its leisure. New worlds. The prey hallucinates..." He turned to Drusilla. "Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik? Was that the demon?"

She nodded. "Such a funny name."

"Um, Giles? What's going on?" Willow asked hesitantly.

"Spike has been stung by a glarghk guhl kashma'nik demon. They inject their victims with a hallucinogenic chemical. If not treated, the victim loses touch with reality over time. He or she enters a hyper-real delusion stemming from his or her state of mind at the time of the attack." They needn't have sent Buffy inside Spike's mind after all.

Willow nodded. "Okay. So...what do we do?"

Giles thought for a moment. "The cure should be listed in one of the books we use for demon identification at the Magic Box. Willow, you and Tara go there and find the recipe. Bring it and the ingredients required back here." He cast a glance at Spike and Buffy, then turned his attention back to Drusilla. He sincerely hoped that Buffy returned to them soon.

________________________________________________________________________

*****Flash*****

She and William were standing in a swank hallway. He was still wearing the clothes he'd been buried in, so it couldn't have been long after his mother's death. It was the first time Buffy had seen him genuinely angry since she'd come to know him in Spike's memories. It was an expression she'd seen a hundred times on Spike in the present, right before something got pummeled. She turned to see what had made him so furious.

Drusilla was lying on a bed with her skirts hiked up. What else was new? A man was standing between her legs, his long hair disheveled from bedroom aerobics. Eww. Dru's friend was in serious need of some conditioner. He tilted his head back – it was Angelus. He smiled at William's shocked face, then leaned over onto the bed. Drusilla smiled happily. "The little children didn't come out to play. Did you miss me, pretty William?"

William's mouth opened and closed quickly. A muscle ticked in his jaw. He might have been at a loss for words, but Angelus wasn't. With a sarcasm Buffy recognized all too well, he replied, "I'm sure he did, Dru. After all... you are his destiny."

Dru's face softened. "Oh. That's so sweet."

Angelus began laughing as William continued to stare in outrage. Dru started laughing too. Buffy shook her head. No wonder modern Spike didn't like to be mocked. "Don't touch her!"

William's grandsire continued to smile. "Little late for that, Willy." He stood, walked over to William, and grabbed him by the arm. "And I really don't like it when you raise your voice to me."

Dru smiled, completely oblivious to how much it was hurting William that she'd betrayed him so soon after making him. "William, don't play such a sad tune. Give us a kiss, then."

William looked back to Angelus. "Why did you...? You knew. You knew she was mine."

Angelus's brow lifted. "Did I?"

That was too much for William. "You knew bloody well!" He pulled loose from Angelus, punched him, and tried to push him over. "Unh-aaaugh!"

The fight spilled out into the living room, but didn't last long. Angelus wasn't concerned; he knew as well as Buffy that a fledgling had no chance against a master vampire. William lay on the ground, winded, after only a couple punches. "Just don't get it now, do you?"

 

He pulled William up by his vest and pushed him onto a couch, next to a couple of dead people. He pushed the bodies off onto the floor, then sat down next to William. "Well, you're new... and a little dim. So let me explain to you how things are now. There's no belonging or deserving anymore. You can take what you want, have what you want... but nothing is yours." Drusilla walked out of the bedroom, her skirts still out of order. "Not even her."

William shook his head violently. Buffy sighed. William was too romantic to see the truth; she'd known he would be. "You're wrong. We're forever, Drusilla and me."

Drusilla gasped. She'd obviously thought no such thing, but the idea amused her. "Are we?" Angelus thought it was funny, too. "Ah, still the poet now, aren't we, Willy?"

"William." He spat.

Angelus smiled condescendingly. "Right. William. You know, you really should find a new name for yourself. It just doesn't strike the right note of terror." He stood and walked over to Drusilla. He stood behind her. "Tell you what... William. If you want her..." he put his arms around Dru possessively. "come and take her."

Drusilla held out her hands dreamily. William didn't even think about it. He rushed forward off the sofa to rescue his damsel in distress. Buffy supposed that was how he rationalized it at first. That he made himself believe Dru was just obeying her sire, she really wanted to be with William. Buffy could see that it was the only explanation he could understand. He thought that because he loved her, she had to love him in the same way. It was that way with his mother, when she was turned.

Angelus threw Dru off to one side as William charged. He grabbed William's shoulders and twisted him violently off his feet and onto his back. The wind was knocked out of William, and he lay stunned for a moment too long. Then Angelus was on top of him. He'd grabbed the fireplace poker while William was down and began hitting him. On the stomach, across his ribs. Again. And again.

Buffy willed Angelus to stop. But he didn't. William rolled over onto his battered chest and tried to crawl toward Dru, who was just watching. She didn't even try to interfere. Buffy figured Angelus had taken a poker to her more than once. Her suspicions were confirmed when Angelus addressed the fledgling on the ground. "She'll not save you, Will my boy. She knows better than to go against my wishes."

William was bleeding out onto the floor, but Angelus didn't care. He smashed the boy's back and head, until finally William stopped moving. Then Angelus straddled his back, grabbed William's head and wrenched him up so that he was facing Dru. "You've called her sire up ta now. You'll give me that title from this moment on, 'cause you'll learn nothing from her outside a bedroom, and then only when I permit you. She is mine. You are mine. If you live it's because I will it so. You will call me sire." He boxed William's ears. "Say it."

"No," William croaked.

Angelus's arms encircled William's battered torso. They squeezed hard, ripping a horrible cry of pain from William. "Say it, boy."

William was on the verge of tears. Buffy couldn't tell if it was from pain or from having to admit defeat. From having to lose Dru. "Sire..."

Angelus smiled. "That's a start." He dropped William without a thought and headed back to Dru. He pulled her out of the room. She spared one look for William, bleeding on the floor. She gave him a little wave and a smile. A few moments later Buffy heard them in the next room. Having sex. It disgusted her.

William lay where he'd fallen, half unconscious, and crying.

Buffy backed away. She'd thought William's human memories were depressing, but this was just horrific. No wonder he'd used a fireplace poker on Angelus during their deal over Acathla. He'd wanted revenge for what William had suffered back then. So it was Angelus that taught William how to be vicious and cruel. How to be Spike.

William. It pained her to see him hurt this way and to see Angelus doing it. She'd known that she'd be seeing memories involving Angelus; she'd been prepared for this. And yet, she had a sinking feeling that after she got out of Spike's mind, she'd never be able to look at Angel the same way again.

*****

Chapter 7

*****Flash*****

Buffy arrived in the newest memory just in time to see William bent over and retching blood in the corner of an alley. She wrinkled her nose in surprise. After a few moments he leaned up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. The air he gave off was different than that of the previous memories, in which he'd been uptight and naïve. This William, with his disheveled hair and suspenders, was darker. He'd been a vampire for several months at least; he was getting the hang of the whole predator vibe. More Spike.

Buffy frowned. If he was getting to be a tough guy, why was he throwing up in a side street? She was betting it wasn't because he ate something that disagreed with him.

Laughter echoed between the narrow walls. Great, another Angelus memory. Buffy and the still-fledgling vampire turned in the direction of the sound. She could just make out Angelus kneeling in the dim recesses of the alley. He was on top of a victim. It was a young girl, struggling faintly against him, her weak fists barely tapping the sides of his face. He had one of his hands across her mouth, preventing her from screaming. Blood stained his mouth, and her neck bled profusely. He'd begun feeding but paused for some reason. Maybe he just wanted to see what she'd do if he...

He wasn't straddling her. He was between her legs. Her skirt was torn and bloody. His other hand was buried inside her clothing. His hips rocked against her.

He was raping her.

Buffy wanted to look away, but she was frozen in shock. Buffy stared as Angelus ground his hand on top of the hidden spot between his victim's legs. The girl went rigid, obviously from orgasm. Angelus followed shortly after. Then he smiled down at the young woman who'd gone limp beneath him, unable to fight anymore. Her face was pained, mortified, and overwhelmed. She was still bleeding badly. After a few moments her eyes dulled, and she exhaled a final time.

Angelus watched, avidly drinking in the sight. Then he laughed. "Such a softheart, Willy, to be losin' your supper during one of our lessons."

Buffy thought back to when he'd had William on the ground in the last memory. He'd said he'd be the fledgling's teacher. She'd assumed that meant Angelus would show him how to stalk his prey and survive over time. Buffy hadn't suspected that this was the kind of lesson William would be given.

Apparently he didn't approve either. "My name is Spike," he said, trying for bravado. The scene he'd just witnessed had left him too shaky to be convincing, though. He straightened himself up and tried to sneer in his 'sire's' direction. He'd begun to use the harsher accent Buffy associated with him. "And I don't see the bloody point to this mess. A clean feed's better. They may be food, but they don't have to be...that." He gestured vaguely to the corpse. "You could at least have put her out of her misery."

Angelus shook his head in an irritated and superior way. He stood slowly, not bothering to fix his clothing. "Willy, Willy, Willy. You jus don' understan' do yea? It's not about what they deserve. You're still thinkin' of 'em as people. You must know that's odd for a creature of the night such as yerself?"

William gave a very Spike-like smirk as Angelus approached him. "So? What's it matter? I'm still in control of my destiny, even if I'm not so hard up that I have to dip it in my dinner."

Angelus gave him an indulgent smile, standing uncomfortably close to him. "Now boy, this isn't about gratification. I've told you that, but as usual ye weren't listenin'. It's about power." He grabbed William by the shoulders, spun him, and forced him into the wall. He crushed the smaller vampire, preventing a struggle with his much larger body. "Power. Mine, over my art." He leaned forward to whisper in William's ear. "And in this case, lad, that'd be you."

Buffy jumped as Angelus jerked free William's suspenders and shoved down his pants. William fought back, but it was too late. He couldn't escape from the position he was in. Buffy's hands strayed up to cover her mouth as she realized where this was leading. Angelus was talking again. "See boy, first you give 'em a taste of what you have planned. Gets their blood goin' and the fear up. Can smell it on you now," he sniffed.

Angelus shifted to game face and sank his fangs into William's jugular. William shrieked and struggled to no avail. "Then you take a nice sample of what's inside their veins. Don't want 'em to have a chance to get away. You want 'em weak, but you want 'em to struggle. No fun if they don't fight back." He smashed William's face into the wall. Buffy saw blood running down the brick.

William scowled in pain, his nose broken. "Fuck you, Angelus."

Angelus shook his head. "No, no, boy, other way around." Then he adjusted his hips.

Buffy turned her back to the scene, unable to keep watching. But the sounds were just as bad. She could hear Angelus grunting as he pushed inside William. She could hear William whimpering as his skin tore. Then there was the sound of flesh being slammed into the unforgiving brick wall. More grunts of satisfaction from Angelus. Moans from William. And then a horrible, sickening crunch and scream that Angelus quickly stifled.

Buffy heard William slide to the floor of the alley. Heard Angelus straighten his own clothing and take a few steps back. "Guess your hips weren't made for this. Good thing you'll heal. You're a right good fuck, boy. I'll be remembrin' that, if you manage to make it home afore dawn." He began to walk away.

"Sire..." William rasped. "Please don't...leave me here."

Angelus laughed again, hard and loud. "Consider it a test of what you're made of. You pass, and you keep your existence another day. If not...well, then I'll take good care of Dru." Buffy heard his footsteps leave the alley and quickly fade.

Bracing herself, she cast a glance at the pile that was William, prone on the ground. His face had been scraped down to the bone from rubbing against the brick. His pants were around his knees. His front was facing the wall, and his shirt tail covered almost everything, but she could see the blood flowing from his rear. Immediately she wanted to throw up. But none of this was real, even if it had happened just this way. She didn't even have a body here to vomit with.

It was worse when William began to move. His face contorted in pain, eyes streaming, and his limbs shaking furiously, he pulled his pants back on. They could barely be got back up his cracked hips, but he managed somehow. He collapsed, panting after that small victory. Sniffling, he pushed himself to his knees. He tried to pull himself up onto his feet, but keened in pain as the move applied pressure to his broken bones and fell back to the ground.

He didn't try to stand a second time. Instead he pulled himself along the through the dirt. Buffy just stood, still in shock, as he dug his fingers into the ground. He drug himself forward, inch by inch. He paused to rest for a few moments at the mouth of the alley. He spotted a lamp post a few feet away, and crawled to it. He used it to pull himself upright, grimacing and crying quietly all the while.

Buffy walked with him as he took each agonizing step toward wherever it was he was calling home. She looked at the sky. It was early morning. She supposed he didn't have long before the sun came up. That thought scared her, even though she knew he must have made it somehow if he was still alive. But that didn't stop her from worrying for him.

She breathed a sigh of relief when a cab rounded the corner and William hailed it. The driver gave him a strange look, seeing as he was covered in blood and earth, but looked the other way when William offered double the normal price. Injured and weak, he barely managed to pull himself inside the carriage. Buffy frowned as the cab pulled away from her. William would be going back to Angelus. That's where Dru was. He'd never leave her. Buffy would have liked to believe that he wouldn't have to deal with the bastard that did that to him.

She'd been right. Humanity was the difference between William and Angelus. William liked being a vampire because it gave him freedom from what he was as a human. He wanted control over himself and liked being able to scare people. But he'd still wanted to play fair. Spike, the vampire William had grown into, still did. Sorta. At least with Spike there was a certain kind of honesty. He was proud of being a predator, but at the same time she knew that if he'd ever beaten her, he would have been kind enough to just kill her. Those were the rules.

Angelus, on the other hand. He couldn't care less about fair. There wasn't a scrap of sympathy or understanding in him. Did a soul really make that much difference? Or was the Angel she knew just a shell to hide the monster. How close to the surface was the soulless vampire? She'd known what he was, but somehow seeing it happen made it much more real. And he'd managed to hide exactly how brutal he'd been from her until he did lose his soul. Perhaps she hadn't wanted to know.

Angelus didn't even begin to consider other people in what he did. Everything was for his own pleasure and his own reasons. But Angel was different. At least that's what she used to believe. He'd killed his sire for Buffy's sake. He'd broken one of the most horrible vampire taboos. And that was with a soul. She couldn't see Spike ever harming Dru, for any reason, and he didn't have a soul.

Angel hadn't loved Darla anymore. Sure, they were on the outs, but they'd been together for a hundred and fifty years, once. If he had killed her for Buffy's sake, when she'd only known him a couple months, how deeply was he capable of loving? How much had he loved Buffy? He left her after only a few years. For her own good. Not that she'd ever really bought that. He just thought it would be easier on both of them. He was right, but he could have come out and said that.

Part of her just wanted to say the hell with it. Leave. But if Spike could survive all this, then she could survive watching it. She was getting angry with him for forcing her to see all this shit. To see Angel as he was, to rob her of the chance to love him in the future. To know how much better Spike could be without a soul than Angel. Ruining what few ideals she had left.

________________________________________________________________________

 

Giles stood leaning against the right-hand sarcophagus. Xander was across from him, sitting on the other. Both of them were watching the figure sitting in the middle of the sofa, her back toward them. She was watching someone on the telly pound steak on a cutting board. Giles smiled mirthlessly. No doubt Drusilla found the little trails of blood the meat left on the counter fascinating. At least it kept her quiet.

Xander shifted uncomfortably. "How much longer do you think it will be before the girls get back?"

A shake of the head was Giles's reply. "I'm uncertain. I imagine they are still searching for the right ingredients."

Xander's eyes flicked to Drusilla and back. In a quieter voice, he asked, "And what are we gonna do about Elvira? Should we...you know..." he made a staking motion with his hand.

"She's dangerous; we don't want to provoke her anymore than necessary." He glanced at the female vampire again. "I doubt Spike would appreciate waking up covered in his sire's ash."

Xander snorted. "Since when do we go with what Spike wants? Just because he starts dressing like a human being doesn't mean he suddenly is one. He's useful, even entertaining sometimes, but come on. He's gonna get staked as soon as the chip's gone."

A sigh escaped Giles. The boy had a tendency to be bloody tiring. "Right now, our concern is the present. And in the present, Spike is voluntarily helping us fight a hell god. Buffy feels, and I agree, that he is a necessary evil."

"Can we at least tell him to stop hanging around Buffy? It bugs me the way he's so interested in her lately." Xander's hand encountered something soft resting on top of the stone. He pulled it toward him; it was the brown jacket Spike had been wearing the other night at the Bronze.

A frown creased Giles's face. "What do you mean 'hanging around Buffy'?"

Xander shrugged. "He shows up whenever she's on patrol, and even when we're at the Bronze. He was wearing that-" he tossed Giles the jacket, "-and blue jeans when we were out last night. I came back from the bar and he was sitting at Buffy's table, bugging her. Then he stole my change and left."

Giles fingered a tear on the front of the jacket, one that corresponded to the location of Spike's injury. He must have been injured the previous evening while wearing it. He wondered vaguely what possible goal Spike could have had in suddenly changing an image he'd maintained for the last decade. Xander had said 'dressing like a human being'. Perhaps Spike wanted to be seen as such. But by whom? Buffy? Whatever for. "Tell me more about this interest of Spike in Buffy, Xander."

"You remember when the troll attacked? I got to playing pool with him in the Bronze beforehand, and it was all 'What does the slayer think of this?' and 'What does the slayer think of that?'..."

*****

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