Pain.
Pain was his world. Pain was his universe. Pain was all that was left of his mind and soul.
He remembered all too well the tortures Glory had visited upon him and her attentions were no different this time, only now he made a terrible realization. He had killed the Sobek demon before it had a chance to lead Buffy to the clearing near the apartment complex where Glory lived. Without that point of reference to start from, even if the Scoobies did come after him- which he doubted they would- they would have no idea where to even begin their search. The knowledge added an edge of dark despair to his suffering. He was truly on his own. No rescue party would arrive at the last minute to save him from this Hell Bitch’s cruelties. If he was to survive, he would have to save himself.
And he had to survive. Somehow, in spite of all his efforts, Glory still found out that the Key was in human form. It was another example of the futility of his actions. No matter what he did or how hard he tried, the events from the previous timeline still seemed to occur in the same sequence that they had taken before. Now Dawn was in serious danger again and so was Tara. He had to get out of there and find a way to kill Ben. It all came down to that one solution: killing Ben. He had wanted to kill Ben from the outset, but had allowed Giles’ adamant refusal to sway him from his task. He now recommitted himself to taking out the intern and nothing, not Buffy, not the Watcher, not even the Chip or his own death, was going to stop him.
Now all he had to do was escape from the Hell Bitch’s clutches, and get somewhere safe long enough to heal and figure out how to kill a human when the chip wouldn’t let him even *think* about hurting anyone. Gathering what was left of his strength, he prepared to taunt Glory into kicking him out of the chains so he could try to stagger his way out of the building.
‘Worked so well the last time…’
A sharp slap to the face brought him out of his thoughts and he became aware, once again, of his body hanging from the chains in the ceiling, broken and bloodied as he tried to alleviate the pressure by standing on his toes.
“I have a riddle for you, Precious. How is a vampire that won't talk like an apple?” she taunted sweetly.
She brought a knife down to his chest, and peeled away the skin, leaving a patch of exposed red flesh. He went rigid with pain and gasped.
“Think I can do you in one long strip?” she asked, flashing the knife.
Spike swallowed slowly and licked his lips. “Enough,” he whispered hoarsely. “No more. I’ll tell you who the sodden Key is.”
Glory gave him a vicious smile and pulled the knife away. “Good.”
As he had before, he tried to stall for as long as he could but it only earned him more pain and beating. Finally, he thought he had the timing about right and asked for a glass of water. Glory graciously provided him with one and held it to his lips so he could drink. She had done this for him before, and he knew that she would soon smash the glass into his face.
“Is that better? Do you think you can try to talk again now?” the hell god asked.
Taking a deep breath, he managed a nod.
“Good. Because I'm tired of these *games!*”
The glass smashed against his cheek, slicing into his flesh as it shattered.
“I need time, I need a drink… You're a very needy little bloodsucker and it's not very attractive! So start talking!” Glory demanded, throwing herself down on the couch and facing him with her legs crossed.
“Yeah, okay. The Key. Well, here's the thing…” he began, surreptitiously working to loosen the chains that held his wrists and trying to twist his hands through.
“It's that guy. On TV. What's his name?”
“On the television?” Glory repeated, incredulous.
“On that show, the Price show, where they guess what stuff costs…” he continued, casting a glance behind him to the closed front door.
“The Price is Right?” one of the minions in robes offered.
“Bob Barker!” another finished excitedly.
“We will get Bob Barker! We will bring you the limp and beaten body of Bob Barker!” the first minion said.
Glory stood up and spun on her minions with narrowed eyes. They cringed.
“It is not Bob Barker, you scabby morons!” she yelled, then approached Spike. “The Key is new to this world and Bob Barker is as old as grit.” She came close, her face mere centimeters from his own bloody cheeks. “The vampire is lying to me.”
He laughed thinly, with not a small hint of hysteria and bitterness in his voice as he continued to work on freeing his hands.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “But it was fun. And guess what, bitch? I'm not tellin’ you jack. You're never gonna get your soddin’ Key. Because you might be strong, but in our world, you're an idiot.”
“I am a God,” Glory said seriously.
“The God of What? Bad home perms?” he taunted, seeing her get angry and feel at her hair.
“Shut up! I command you shut up!” she demanded.
“Yeah, okay. I mean, sorry, but I just had no idea Gods were such prancing lightweights,” he continued, looking back at the door and trying to line his body up with it.
Glory have him an angry snort, coming close as he punctuated his next words with as much contempt as he could muster.
“Mark my words, the Slayer is going to kick your skanky lop-sided ass back to whatever place would take a cheap, whorish, fashion victim ex-God like you.”
On cue, just as he finished saying the words, Glory rounded and kicked him so hard that the chains that held him snapped and he went flying backwards, directly through the closed front door in a torrent of splinters. He was exceedingly lucky that one of them did not pierce his heart. He landed in the hallway and struggled to his feet in spite of the pain he was in.
“Good plan, Spike,” he choked to himself as he stood on shaky but mercifully unbroken legs.
Unsteady and in agony, he made his way as quickly as his battered body would allow to the elevator. It closed in front of him as he got there and he had to pry the doors apart. Glory’s minions were hot on his heels as he forced the doors open and threw himself down the shaft to land on the roof of the descending car. Pushing the escape hatch in, he let himself fall through the opening and land heavily on the elevator floor. He knew the minions would be waiting for him when it stopped at the lobby and he would have to fight his way through them, then get down to the basement where he could hopefully either find a way into the sewers or hole up in a safe place to hide until nightfall.
He stood, ready to fight the moment the doors opened, knowing there would be no help for him this time. The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. He tensed and prepared to do battle for his unlife.
“You do not insult Glory by escaping,” one of the minions said as they came towards him.
Setting his jaw, he was ready for them, fists clenched. Then a miracle happened and for a moment he could not believe what he was seeing as the building doors flew open with a powerful kick and Buffy was there, weapon in hand. The robot, the whelp, the watcher, witch and demon girl were all with her, all battle ready and supremely pissed off.
His legs gave out as the shock washed through him, followed by relief and some studded awe as he watched the Slayer and the Scoobies begin to fight. He noticed that she was wielding the Gruth’lak battle axe like a true warrior and he smiled through bloodied lips.
‘She finally got a chance to use it,’ he thought.
It was the last thing that entered his mind before he passed out.
He woke with a scream on his lips, but was quickly shushed by a soft voice and gentle hand.
“You’re safe. It’s okay. You’re safe now,” a voice whispered and he recognized it as Tara.
“Glinda?” he choked.
“Yes. It’s me. Buffy and the others rescued you from Glory. You’re in Buffy’s basement. You already had clothes and a cot here so it seemed the logical place to bring you,” Tara explained.
“Danger,” he managed.
“No. No, it’s okay. Willow and I have the protection spells up. If Glory tries to get anywhere near here, they’ll sound an alarm.”
“How’d you find me?”
“Location spell. Giles helped and you had left some of your clothes here so we had something to use as a focus.”
He was so humbled and grateful that he almost started to cry.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely.
“We couldn’t leave you there. You’re family,” she answered, recalling memories of that night not so long ago when he and the others fought for her against her family.
“I want you to know, too, that we didn’t tell. About your soul, that is. Giles and I. We kept it secret still. But we couldn’t let Glory hurt you… well, more than she already did,” she added.
“S’ok. I understand. Grateful. Where’s Dawn?” he asked, his concern coming through in spite of his hoarse voice.
“She’s safe. She’s upstairs. Worried about you. We’re all worried about you. You’ve taken a number of beatings in a very short time.”
“Buffy?”
“She’s upstairs too. Do you want me to get her?”
He managed a small nod.
“Okay. I’ll go get her, but don’t talk too long. You’re really weak and you need to heal. Willow and I put more pain-block spells on you, but you still need rest.”
As she moved to leave, he reached out for her hand, feeling blindly for it because his eyes were nearly swollen shut. When her hand came in contact with his own, he held it loosely.
“Glinda…”
“Yes?”
“Glory knows the Key is human. I don’t know how she knows. Don’t go anywhere alone, okay? Even if you and Red are havin’ a bit of a tiff, don’t go stormin’ off by yourself, okay? Trust me on this one, please,” he warned faintly.
Her hand gripped his tightly then released. “I won’t. Thank you.”
He nodded, rolling his heads back and letting his hand fall from hers. She smoothed back his hair then he heard her leave. It was quite a few minutes before he heard the tell-tale footsteps on the basement stairs.
“Slayer,” he whispered in greeting before she had a chance to speak.
“Tara said you wanted to see me,” Buffy’s voice said, calmly but with an edge of apprehension.
“Wanted you to know. I didn’t tell.”
There was silence, then Buffy said softly, “I know.”
“Don’t make a difference, though. Glory knows the Key’s human.”
“How?”
He shook his head. “Dunno. ‘S why they got me. Thought I was the Key.” He tried to laugh but coughed instead. “Wankers.”
“This is bad, Spike.”
“I know. She’s gonna start comin’ for the Scoobies, one by one. ‘S just a matter of time.”
He heard her settle next to him on the floor beside his cot. “We have to find a way to beat her before she finds out about Dawn. Giles has been going through the stuff the Council gave us, but so far nothing’s been helpful. She has to have a weakness or else those monks would never have sent her to me in the first place.”
“I’m workin’ on it, but you have to give us a minute. Cuts and bones need mending.”
“I should let you rest. Glory really beat you up. You’ve been beaten up a lot lately.”
He sighed and smiled to himself. “Takes more than all that ta keep me down. I’m a tough old bastard, I am. Take a lickin’ and keep on kickin’.”
Buffy laughed softly at his joke. “Yeah, I figured that. You’ve suffered a lot lately. And you’ve helped a lot. Granted I’m not pleased with finding out you had a robot of me made by that twisted geek Warren, but…”
“It wasn’t supposed…” he tried.
“I know, but still eewwwww. I’m just glad it isn’t a good copy of me. I mean, how could anyone think that thing was me? It isn’t even real.”
He wisely kept silent, knowing full well that Warren’s creation had fooled the demons of Sunnydale for almost 4 months during the summer of Buffy’s death. Then he felt her hand take his gently.
“What you did for me… and for Dawn. That was real. I won’t forget it.”
He heard her lean close then felt her plant a chaste kiss against his temple.
“Thank you,” she whispered very softly.
“Buffy…” he murmured, but she was already pulling away.
“I should let you rest. I have a sick feeling that things are gonna heat up pretty quick around here and we’ll need your help.”
He nodded as she stood and walked away. He tracked her with his hearing until she paused at the basement steps.
“I’ll have Dawn bring down some blood for you. She’s anxious to see you and it’ll give her an excuse to come down,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” There was another pause, then she said softly, “Get some rest, Spike. And thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he whispered back, but she didn’t hear him. She had already climbed her way up the stairs, leaving him alone in the basement.
********
He healed. Physically at least. It could not be said that the other, unseen, wounds were healing. Rather they festered inside of him, eating away at his very sanity. As he lay there in Buffy’s basement, bones knitting and flesh mending from yet another vicious beating, his mind ran circles around itself trying to formulate a plan. He had to stop Glory and to do that he had to kill Ben. Giles wasn’t going to help him. That meant the Scoobies wouldn’t help him if he went to them. He couldn’t do it and be sure he’d succeed on the first try before the chip knocked him unconscious. He would only have one chance to kill the intern and if he failed Glory would know that her secret was out. He needed allies; allies that wanted Glory dead as much as he did and were willing to kill innocents in order to accomplish that goal.
The answer came to him in the form of a sick epiphany. He was absently fingering a wound where Glory had sliced him with a knife and his thoughts turned to Mediaeval torture methods, which led him to thinking of the Dark Ages and knights on horseback. Then he remembered the modern day Knights of Byzantium, dressed in all their rusted glory, sworn to destroy the Key at all costs in order to sever its link to The Beast. The Knights had no qualms about killing an innocent girl. They were prepared to sacrifice Dawn, and anyone who got in their way, in order to complete their mission.
The plan seemed perfect. Once he was healed enough to go out, he would seek out the Knights and offer them Ben. Why kill a tool when you could get the hand that wielded it? Spike remembered that the general they had captured told them that the Knights had never been able to determine the identity of Glory’s human host. He could give them Glory’s biggest weakness in trade for Dawn and the Scoobies’ safety. The Knights would kill Ben and Glory would die with him. The Hell Bitch would be gone, Dawn would be safe and Buffy would never have to jump off the tower.
The answer was so ridiculously simple he was shocked he hadn’t thought of it before, and a stream of hysterical giggles bubbled out from his lips, catching the attention of his caretaker of the moment, Tara.
“Spike?” the witch asked, leaning over him as he tried to suppress the sounds. “Spike are you all right?”
He looked at her, his face still battered, but cracked into a grin. In the previous timeline she’d gotten brain-sucked and was now a gibbering idiot, but this time, she’d heeded his warnings and had not gone to the fair where Glory had found her the last time.
“You’re the only one who ever listened to me,” he commented.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Nothin’ matters anymore, ‘cept keepin’ you lot safe.”
Tara ducked her head shyly and let her hair hide her face, but he reached over and grasped her wrist gently to command her attention.
“Listen to me. No matter what happens, I will never betray Buffy and the Scoobies. I would die for her and Dawn, and I nearly bloody did.”
“I… I know.”
“You remember that, Glinda. No matter how it looks. I will never betray you.”
She fixed him with a steady stare. “Spike, what are you going to do?”
“I dunno yet, but I have some ideas. The Hell Bitch said a few things while she was gettin’ creative with my body parts,” he hedged.
“Like what?” she pressed, her face intensely interested.
“Can’t say just yet. Don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. Gotta do some diggin’ first. When I know for sure, you lot’ll be the first to know.”
She took his hand and squeezed gently. “Spike, please don’t do anything rash. I know that you are very worried and scared for us, but the warnings you gave me about not getting caught alone, they count for you too.”
He gave her a tender smile. “Don’t want to have to come haring to my rescue again, eh Glinda?”
She snorted at his attempt at humor. “More like tired of washing the blood out of your clothes.”
“Me I just burn ‘em and steal new ones.”
“Oh now you tell me,” she chided jokingly.
He chuckled and smiled at her, turning his head away and closing his eyes as he released her wrist.
“Tired?” she asked.
He swallowed and nodded.
“I’ll let you rest then,” she said, adjusting his blankets.
“Wake me when Passions comes on.”
“I will.”
He fell asleep to visions of knights on horseback with flashing swords and shining armor.
*******
The following day, Spike woke with the uncanny knowledge that he was running out of time. Even though he wasn’t yet completely healed and still had a severe limp, he set about executing his plan to enlist the knights’ help in disposing of Glory, but there were a few things he needed to take care of first just in case things went sour.
Going to the used car lot he and Buffy had raided before, he stole the camper and hid it in the alley behind the Magic Box. He knew that the Scoobies would need it if Glory came after them. He passed over the Porsche again, knowing it was too small for everyone, nor could he be sure that he would be around to drive it. He knew what he was doing was terribly dangerous, and that there was a distinct possibility that he would not survive it. With that in mind, he left a letter for Giles explaining what he planned to do and informing him of the dangers and the whereabouts of the camper.
Mission completed, he went in search of the Knights of Byzantium, knowing he was walking straight into the lion’s den, but feeling that he had no choice. He found their encampment without too much trouble. Really, how inconspicuous could a legion of armored knights and war horses be? It wasn’t like they could hide out in an abandoned warehouse and lie low until they were called to battle. In the end, he found them in the woods, a full encampment complete with tents and campfires.
Gathering his courage and hoping he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his unlife, he walked straight into their midst.
“Oi! Who’s in charge around here?” he announced loudly, commanding their attention.
He was immediately surrounded by at least a dozen armored knights with swords. He put up his hands in surrender.
“I come in peace,” he said. “I have information that will prove useful to you in your… eh… holy quest.”
“What do you know about our quest?” one of the knights demanded, shaking his sword at him.
“I know a helluva lot more than you think I do, and if you wanna take down the Hell Bitch, you’ll put your little pointy things away and let me speak to your leader.”
With that, he feigned disinterest, lowered his arms and lit a cigarette. The knights around him fidgeted and murmured, but none tried to attack him.
‘Plan might just work…’
“Demon! Hell spawn! Beast of Satan!” came a loud voice.
‘Then again, maybe not.’
Spike raised his head to see an elderly man in robes, most likely a priest or cleric, coming through the ranks of knights. He cleared the soldiers and came at him, crucifix waving. He snarled, demon coming forth to the shock of the knights, and shied away from the holy object.
“Get thee behind me, evil spawn!” the cleric cried.
“Oi! Put that thing away will ya? I told you I come in peace.”
“Demon! Why should we believe your lies?”
“’Cause I’ve got information about The Beast,” he insisted, still shying from the crucifix.
“You speak with a forked tongue, devil child. Nothing you have to say would be of any use to us.”
He was getting sick of the man waving the cross at him, pushing him closer to the ranks of sword wielding knights, and he was losing patience. Besides, the man smelled like moldy books and tongue oil. He rounded and faced the priest, head high and yellow eyes blazing.
“Look, I don’t want that bitch opening the portals any more than you do! I’m here to help, you wanker,” he snarled, lunging forward and thrilling at the sudden fear in the old man’s eyes.
The priest shoved the crucifix directly in his face but did not touch him with it. He held his ground and steeled himself not to flinch.
“What’s in gonna be then?” he challenged.
The two stared at each other, a battle of wills as each refused to give quarter, although Spike was none too happy to have a cross dangling quite so close to his nose. Then a new figure came through the circle of knights. He was more highly decorated than the others, and the tattoo on his forehead was more detailed.
“We already know the monks made the Key human, demon,” the newcomer said.
Spike broke eye contact with the priest in order to face the new man. The priest thankfully lowered his cross and allowed the man to come close. Spike shook off his demon and looked at the man with his human face.
“Well, yeah. They did.”
“We know it is the Slayer’s sister. Our brother who was defiled by The Beast told us this,” the man, a general, added.
‘So that’s how they found out. The crazy knight from the mental ward.’
“Yeah. But I can do you one better than that. I know who The Beast’s mortal host is,” he replied smugly.
The general pulled his sword and pointed the tip at Spike’s nose. “I know decapitation will kill your kind, demon.”
“We don’t like sharpened sticks much either. Your point is?”
“If you have come to tell us lies, we will kill you.”
He blinked and looked bored. “Well, yeah. Figured that. I’m a vampire, mate, not an imbecile.”
The general stared at him for a moment, then said, “Tell us what you know.”
He went to take a drag from his cigarette and saw that it had burned down to the filter. Sighing, and casting the priest an irritated glance, he lit another and took a hit.
“I want to make a deal first,” he said, blowing the smoke in the priest’s direction.
“We do not make deals with the devil,” the cleric sneered.
Spike shrugged and looked expectantly at the general.
“What are your demands?” the general finally said, to the shock of those around him.
Spike gave him a satisfied smirk, flicking the cigarette ashes on the grass by the general’s boots.
“’S real simple, really. I give you Glorificus’ human host and you leave the Slayer and her little sis alone.”
His words surprised everyone. Even the general looked stunned.
“That is your condition?”
He nodded and crushed the cigarette under the heel of his boot. “It is.”
“You want the Key for yourself,” one of the knights spat.
He gave the knight a withering glare. “No. Without Glory, the Key is useless,” he said, looking back at the general. “The Key is the Link, the Link must be severed. Such is the Will of God. Have I got it right? Kill the man, you kill the God. Kill the God, the Key becomes a normal teenage girl whose only concerns are boys, makeup and not gettin’ eatin’ by nasties like me.”
Spike gave the general a level stare, one eyebrow cocked.
“You are correct, demon. If The Beast is destroyed, the Key’s power is useless. Only the one who made it can wield its power,” the general confirmed.
“There you have it then. Have we got a deal?”
“Why would you want us to spare the girl?” the general demanded.
“The Slayer and me, we got a deal. I help her kill the nasties in this town in return for her not killin’ me. Works out rather nicely for both if us. I don’t get killed, she gets another pair of hands in the slayin’ and I get to have all sorts of fun metin’ delicious violence on prey that’s a lot more difficult to kill than you measly mortals. It’s a win-win situation,” he explained calmly.
“Now, enter one Hell Bitch with visions of world destruction and a really bad fashion sense. Complicate that with the fact that said Hell Bitch is after the Slayer’s little sister. Oh, did I mention that I’m sworn to protect the little sister? It makes for a bit of tension, it does, and interrupts our regular slayin’ schedule, and that messes with my killin’ fun.”
“You have a soul,” the priest said suddenly, a hint of awe in his voice.
Spike stopped his soliloquy and gave the cleric an angry glare.
“Well, so you found me out. Nancy boy vampire went and got himself a soul. Bravo.”
“You are the one that was foretold in the ancient scrolls. The demon who would betray his own kind.”
“Hate to disappoint you, padre, but that’s my poof of a grandsire. He’s the one with the grand destiny. Me, I’m just love’s bitch.” He returned his attention to the general. “So, back to the matter at hand. I give you Glory’s human host and you leave the Slayer and her sis alone. Have we got a deal?”
“How do we know you are telling the truth?” the general asked.
“Well, aside from this pesky soul not wantin’ me to lie, I can prove it.”
“Tell us what you know. If you speak the truth, we will honor your request.”
Spike nodded.
“Glory’s got herself a posh pad in an apartment complex not too far from here. I got a chance to look at it when she picked me up and took me over to her place for a spot of torture,” he said, pointing to his bruised face. “See, she knows the Key’s human too and she decided that the vampire was the weakest link if you know what I mean. Now, during my stay there, in-between the bouts of excruciating pain, I managed to discover a little room in said apartment that was made up as a bedroom for Glory’s human half. The human half is a doctor who calls himself Ben. He interns at Sunnydale hospital, when he isn’t strutting around in dollies and high heels.”
There was a moment of silence before the general spoke again.
“You will take us to this place.”
Spike gave him an evil grin.
“With pleasure.”
********
Spike ran. He ran until he thought his injured leg had surely broken into a dozen pieces, and all the wounds that had half-healed from Glory’s tortures had reopened and spilled his borrowed blood all over himself and the street. But no pain he endured could match the blinding panic that seared through him now, the all-encompassing terror that drove him past the point of all his endurance.
The Knights of Byzantium were gone. All of them. What poor sods were still left alive were surely being held as food for the Hell Bitch. The rest were dead, slaughtered like cattle and left to rot on the killing field. The apartment complex was in flames, the fire casting blood red shadows on the surrounding buildings and flooding the nearby park with toxic, black smoke- smoke he used as cover in which to make his desperate escape.
The plan seemed simple enough. When Glory was weakened, she either found a victim to brain-suck or lost her ability to hold Ben back. All they theoretically had to do was wait until Glory morphed into Ben and then kill him while he was vulnerable. It was a very simple plan. Because vampires were immune to the forgetting spell that Glory/Ben cast that made humans forget they had seen one switch to the other, Spike would watch for Ben and alert the knights of his whereabouts. The knights would then attack and kill Ben, striking too quickly for any of Glory’s minions to stop them.
All of this had been decided after he had guided them to the apartment and showed them the small room with Ben’s meager possessions. Neither the intern nor the God was home, but a handful of minions were there to guard the apartment. They tried valiantly to fulfill their duty, but the knights overpowered them and barged into the living room. They didn’t kill them, and when Spike asked why they didn’t just slit the minions’ throats, he was told that Glory would simply reanimate any minions that were killed.
After his claims were substantiated, the knights went to lie in wait while he scouted for Glory or Ben. It wasn’t long before he spotted the intern’s nancy-boy car pulling into the apartment complex’s parking lot, and he alerted the troops.
How was he to know that the poof had guts? The little wanker actually fought back and Glory’s crusty minions actually came to his defense. Things still would have been alright, but then the Hell Bitch came out to play and all Hell broke loose. He’d known that the Bitch was strong, but nothing could have prepared him for the ferocity of her attack or the carnage that she left in her wake. The rout was an upset that even the great Angelus would have appreciated in his days of soulless killing and mayhem. He barely escaped with his unlife, using the explosions from erupting gas lines to cover his fleeing form, and now he was running, running for the Magic Box because he knew it was just a matter of time before Glory discovered that Dawn was the Key.
He flew through the doors of the Magic Box where he knew the others would be if Giles had found his letter. He didn’t even bother to slow down as he bolted into the store, and was met with a fist to the face. He reeled back from the impact, collapsing to the hard floor, and looked dazedly up at a supremely pissed off Watcher who was rubbing his fist.
“You stupid idiot! You traitorous son of a bitch!” Giles accused.
“There’s no time! You gotta get outta here! The Knights are gone and Glory’s gonna come gunnin’ for ya! You gotta rally the troops and bugger out NOW!” he countered angrily.
“What have you done?!” the Watcher roared.
“What you wouldn’t do! I found someone who’d help me! But it all went wrong and now she’s gonna come for ya!” he yelled back, struggling to his feet in spite of his wounds.
“What were you thinking? You’ve betrayed us all!”
“What the hell is going on here?” Buffy demanded, coming into his field of view. She was dangerously angry and he feared for his unlife again.
“Buffy, let me explain…”
“You irresponsible idiot!” Giles seethed.
“Giles…” Buffy warned, then turned to him, standing near to him, arms crossed. “You. Talk.”
By now the others had gathered around, staring at him with concerned and worried expressions on their faces. He scrambled to think of a proper explanation that wouldn’t give everything away.
“Right. It’s like this. When Glory was playin’ peel the vamp, I found out somethin’ real interestin’ about our Hell Bitch. Way I figure it, works like this: when Glory was kicked out of Hell Central, the only way they could do it was to tie her to a human form, a mortal form. Now this form lives as long as the Hell Bitch does, but it’s not invulnerable. While she had me, I found out that the mortal form is our favorite intern, Ben,” he explained in a rush.
“Ben? Ben from the hospital?” Buffy asked.
He swallowed and nodded. “The very same. So, I did some diggin’ and I confirmed that if you get rid of Ben, you get rid of Glory.”
“Kill the man and the God dies,” Tara commented, her eyes opening wide.
He nodded at her, trying to catch his breath. “Exactly. Well as soon as I knew for sure. I told Giles.”
Buffy rounded on her Watcher. “Wait a minute. You knew about this?”
Giles took off his glasses and cleaned them vigorously. “Yes. Spike told me what he had discovered.”
“You’re telling me that Spike told you about a *major* weakness in Glory and you didn’t tell me?”
“Buffy… I was exploring… other options.”
“Other options?” she repeated incredulously.
“We wanted to avoid killing an innocent if at all possible,” Giles explained.
“He’s no innocent. Tonight proved it for me. He knows damn well what’s goin’ on!” he spat back.
“So what happened?” Buffy ordered. “What did you do?”
He cringed under her hard stare but was determined to hold his ground. “Well, Watcher wouldn’t help me, and I couldn’t do it myself because of this damn chip they shoved in my brain, so I went to someone who would. I looked up our resident idiots in armor.”
“The Knights of Byzantium,” Willow breathed.
“Yeah. Them. Anyways, I figured if they were willin’ ta kill a little girl in order ta stop Glory, they’d be willin’ ta kill an intern in trade for killin’ Glory herself.”
“Go on,” Buffy prompted.
“First off, I’d like ta say that the knights already knew Dawn was the Key. I didn’t tell ‘em. Turns out, they came and got the bloke Glory brain-sucked, but he was at the hospital the night Dawn went into the loony ward. He saw her and recognized that she was the Key. He must have let it slip when his buddies came to get him,” he admitted. “So they were already plannin’ a full frontal attack on you in order to get Dawn. I just made ‘em go after a bigger fish.”
Buffy nodded that she understood and he continued, his eyes never leaving her face.
“Well, I was right, and as soon as I proved ta them that I was tellin’ the truth, they were more than willin’ ta go after the Hell Bitch herself and leave Dawn alone.”
“How nice of them,” Buffy commented dryly.
“But something went wrong, didn’t it. You said we were all in danger,” Anya interrupted.
“Yeah. Somethin’ went wrong all right. When we attacked Ben, the blighter fought back, then he traded places with his worse half, and she blew us all to kingdom come. When I got out of there, the whole block was on fire and what was left of the knights were bein’ rounded up by Glory’s minions. I slipped out in the smoke and came runnin’ here. Now Glory knows that her secret is out and she’s gonna come gunnin’ for us. She also got the knight that’s all loony. My guess is he’ll tell her about Dawn pretty soon.”
“We gotta get out of town,” Buffy said.
He nodded. “Already planned for that. Nicked a Winnebago and stashed it behind the shop.”
“So that’s where that ugly camper came from! I was going to call the police and have it towed,” Anya admitted.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t. It’s you lot’s ticket out of here. Grab your toothbrushes and a pair of clean knickers and bugger out.”
“You stole a camper?” Buffy asked dubiously.
“What? It’s big enough to tote the whole Scooby crew. Could’ve nicked a Porche but I figured you wouldn’t want to leave anyone behind.”
Buffy pursed her lips thoughtfully. She had the Slayer look on her face, the one that made all the tough decisions and executed all the difficult plans. Spike was glad to see it because it meant that Buffy was already figuring out what they were going to do next.
“Okay. Glory knows where Dawn and I live so we can’t go home. Wills, you and Tara go back to your place and get supplies. Xander, Anya, you do the same. Giles, we have to talk but not right now. I need you to gather whatever you think we’ll need. Move people. We have a half hour. Let’s get going,” the Slayer commanded.
The group took their marching orders and scattered. Knowing that Buffy had everything under control, Spike gratefully sank down onto the bench at the reading table. He was in considerable pain and glad for the rest. Too much had happened in too short of a time, and he was nearing his breaking point. He let his head fall to the table and closed his eyes, allowing himself a brief respite from the chaos that sought to consume him.
He’d dozed off when the aroma of warmed blood roused him, and he lifted his head to see Tara placing a tall container of heated blood in front of his nose. Her eyes were hooded and full of concern.
“Back so soon?” he asked.
“I never left. Willow is getting the things we need. I wanted to stay here and make sure you were alright.”
He gave her his trademark smirk and winked at her as he gratefully accepted the food. His expression fell, however, when he tried to sit up and pain lanced through his body, making him gasp. Tara pushed the blood towards him.
“Eat. There are herbs in it that will help with the pain.”
He nodded and reached for the container, raising it to his lips. His hand only shook a little bit as he drank it down.
“Thanks, luv,” he sighed when he was finished.
“This is what you meant, wasn’t it. About not betraying us,” Tara said softly.
He lowered his eyes and refused to answer.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I did. Told the Watcher,” he replied.
“Why didn’t you tell Buffy?”
“Same reason Giles didn’t want to tell ‘er. Ben’s human. Didn’t want ‘er ta have to make that choice.”
“Yes, well it was my choice to make,” Buffy’s angry voice interrupted as she slammed the Gruth’lak battle axe down on the table. A sullen Dawn was behind her.
“What else are you keeping from me?” she demanded, her expression brooking no argument.
He swallowed heavily and tried to quell the fear in his heart.
“There’s a demon I killed. A nasty bloke I heard served the Hell Bitch. I lopped off ‘is head with that very axe, but I may have left somethin’ important behind in ‘is place. I heard about it later, a wooden box he kept scrolls in, but I never got the chance to go back an’ look for it.”
“Where is it and what am I looking for?” Buffy ordered.
“Buffy! No! You can’t go,” Dawn cried.
Buffy looked to her sister, then back to him. “Tell me what I need to know.”
“Buffy!”
Buffy looked back to her sister. “If what Spike says is true, then this guy may have had something that can help us. I’m the only one not doing anything else. I can go and be back before the others get here. Glory didn’t know where this demon lived, did she?”
“I dunno. I was only there the once. I doubt she’ll go lookin’ for him tho. He was small fish,” he admitted.
“So it’s probably safe then. Where am I going?”
Reluctantly he told her where Doc had lived and described the small wooden chest he and Xander had taken from the apartment in the previous timeline. He really hadn’t wanted to tell her, but he feared her wrath if he refused, and he simply wasn’t up to dealing with her anger.
She left in a swirl of blond and black leather and he watched her go with some amusement. It seemed ironic that he would be in her place this time around. Since he had been trying to keep the Scoobies one step ahead of Glory, Buffy had only had to fight the Hell Bitch twice, unlike the four or five times she’d gotten beaten by Glory the last time around. Nor had she had to face her best friend’s lover getting brain-sucked and then have to save Willow from becoming toast herself.
While this Buffy was tired and scared, she wasn’t beaten. Last time, Buffy had been completely drained, exhausted and soul weary. It had led to her catatonia when Dawn was finally taken, and broke her in a way he never ever wanted to see her broken again. That Buffy had been ready to give up, ready to die just to end the pain. He remembered what Buffy had told him about her conversation with Giles on the night of her death; how she was tired and didn’t want to live a world that kept demanding that she sacrifice the ones she loved. That Buffy had been a shadow of her former self. This Buffy remained undefeated.
It suddenly struck him exactly how much he had been able to change this time around. Even though all of the major events remained the same, he had been able to spare Buffy a great deal of pain by avoiding certain situations or by taking the pain on himself. So far, if anyone had been defeated by Glory, it was him, but not even that could be said because he was still unliving and in full control of all of his faculties. Therefore, while he hadn’t been able to alter the timeline significantly, he had affected a staggering amount of change with his efforts.
The realization gave him the first glimmers of hope he’d felt in a long time. If they ran, no Knights were around to waylay them. Giles would never be skewered, Ben would never be called to treat him, and that meant Ben wouldn’t do his Glory switcheroo and grab Dawn. All they had to do was hold out for a few more days, and Glory would lose her window of opportunity to use Dawn to open the portals. They could do that, couldn’t they?
“What are you thinking?” Tara questioned, drawing him out of his thoughts.
He looked at her and gave her a smile. “I’m thinkin’ this plan might just work.”
Both she and Dawn blinked at him.
“Well, that’s good,” Tara said.
His smile broadened. “Yeah it is.”
“Did you really go to those Knights to try to save me?” Dawn asked.
“Yeah, Nibblet, I did.”
She slapped him across the face. Hard.
“You stupid IDIOT! You could have gotten yourself killed!” she screamed.
He rubbed his stinging cheek. ‘Pint-size packs a punch. Oww.’
“Dawn!” Tara reprimanded.
“You put yourself in terrible danger for me. What if they hadn’t believed you? What if Glory had gotten you again and killed you this time? What would we have done without you!” Dawn continued, starting to cry.
“Oh, Nibblet. I’m sorry,” he said, softening and reaching for her. He’d been through too much and suffered too much pain to care about what the others would think. Dawn was precious to him, as precious as Buffy, and she needed him to hold her and prove to her that he was still with her.
She fell into his arms, aggravating all of his injuries, but he didn’t care. She was safe in his embrace and he planned to keep it that way. All they had to do was wait until Buffy and the others got back, then they would run and hide out until Glory’s time was up. Finally a simple plan that would work where all the others had failed.
Neither he nor Tara were prepared for the alarms that suddenly went off or explosion that blew in the storefront windows. They barely had time to register that the advance warning spell Willow and Tara had placed around the Magic Box had sounded off before the blast knocked them back. Tara screamed as she was thrown to the ground by the pressure wave and was knocked unconscious. Spike, still holding Dawn, was flipped upside down and slammed by the heavy table as it blew over and knocked him into the bookcases. Dawn was underneath him, protected from the brunt of the impact by his body, but they were both trapped by the broken table and the bookcases that had collapsed on top of them.
“Spike!” he heard Dawn cry.
“Dawn!” he answered, struggling to use his back to dislodge the debris on top of them so he could see if she was injured.
Suddenly the weight on his body was lifted away and he looked up to see Glory looming over them.
“Well, well, well, lookie here. It’s my Key in a neat kiddie size package.”
He struggled to rise, to keep Dawn out of her clutches, but the hell god simply grabbed him and threw him like rag doll. He sailed clear across the store and hit the glass counter, shattering it under his weight.
‘No…’ he thought as he watched Glory drag Dawn from the rubble. ‘No. God, please no…’
“You and me are gonna have so much *fun,*” Glory said with a sadistic smile as she pulled the weeping, struggling teen behind her.
“Spike!” Dawn screamed. “SPIKE!!”
He couldn’t move, shards of glass stabbed him along his back. His leg was bent at an odd angle, the fingers of his left hand mangled and broken. Still, he used his right hand, grasping at the floor even though it was littered with glass that sliced into his palm, and tried to drag himself from the wreckage to get to Dawn.
‘Dawn. Must save Dawn…’
“SPIIIIIIIKE!!!”
“DAWN!”
“Ta kiddies. See you all in Hell!” Glory taunted as she forced Dawn from the shop.
“DAWN! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”
He reached out one helpless hand at the empty air where Dawn had been, the image of her terrified, pleading face burning itself into his shocked mind.
‘Dawn… She took Dawn. Glory has Dawn. I failed. I failedifailedifailedifailed. I FAILED!!’
Blackness clouded his vision, crushing him under its weight. He couldn’t take it, not after all he had been through, all he had done to try to protect Dawn and Buffy. His mind shattered into a million pieces and scattered like a supernova exploding out into the universe. Then he saw and felt no more.
********
The first thing Buffy saw when she arrived back at the Magic Box was the broken window. The window hadn’t been so much broken as completely blasted away, and she threw herself through the open door that teetered on one hinge.
The wreckage stunned her and she tried to take in all of it. The circular reading table was flipped upside down and cracked into two pieces. The bookcases behind it had collapsed and all the books lay scattered on the floor. Tara lay unconscious amid the debris, her hair cascading over her face. In the front of the store, the glass counter had been smashed and glass was littered everywhere. Lying in a pool of his own blood, his body facing the open door, one hand outstretched to reach for nothing, was Spike. The vampire’s eyes were open, his face blank as he stared straight ahead.
“Buffy!” Willow cried, rushing in.
The witch skidded to a stop beside her friend and they both stared at the damage before them.
“Oh my God,” Willow breathed, then she saw Tara. “Oh no! TARA!”
Willow raced to her lover’s side, panicked as she shook the other girl. Buffy was relieved to hear a pained moan come from Tara.
“Tara! Oh God, Tara! What happened?!” Willow asked as Tara sat up, one hand on her bloodied forehead.
“The window… it exploded and… I heard Dawn scream…”
“Dawn! Where’s Dawn?” Buffy demanded, her eyes sweeping the rubble.
“She was with Spike when…” Tara stopped, looking around the shop until she saw Spike on the floor by the smashed counter. “Oh my God.”
“The alarm, Buffy, the one we cast to warn us if Glory showed up, it sounded. I think… I think Glory might have taken Dawn,” Willow said, her eyes wide and frightened.
Buffy immediately began ripping through the piles of books and broken wood, tossing them aside in a desperate search for her sister. The two witches watched with tears on their cheeks until Tara managed to make her way to Spike’s side.
The vampire was completely still and silent, his eyes open and blank. He didn’t even blink.
“Spike?” Tara whispered, shaking him gently. There was no response.
Suddenly, a foot came from the right, kicking Spike hard in the gut and rolling him away. Shocked, Tara looked up to see an enraged Buffy.
“Where is she?!” Buffy demanded.
Spike’s lack of response only served to make her angrier and she kicked him again. “Where’s my sister you undead pain in the ass!”
“Buffy…” Tara tried.
“What happened, you bastard!” she yelled, kicking the prone vampire repeatedly.
“Buffy!” Willow cried. “Buffy STOP!”
Panting heavily, the Slayer stopped, her hands clenched into fists and her face stained with tears.
“Buffy… Spike’s… he’s not responding. I’m… I’m not sure he’s even in there anymore,” Willow explained.
Tara crawled over to the blank-faced vampire and looked into the wide, staring eyes. “I think… I think he gone inside.”
“Oh good lord,” Giles’ voice breathed and they looked to see the Watcher, Anya and Xander standing in the open doorway.
“The shop! What happened to the shop?” Anya screamed. “The money!”
The ex-demon raced for the toppled cash register as Giles and Xander surveyed the damage.
“Oh man, what happened here?” Xander breathed.
“Giles, Dawn’s missing,” Buffy said tersely.
“The advance warning alarm sounded. We think… we think it might have been Glory,” Willow added.
“Glory?” Giles repeated, stunned. “How?”
“We don’t know. Spike might know, but he’s zombie-vamp,” Buffy replied.
“He’s gone catatonic, Giles,” Willow explained worriedly. “He’s not responding at all.”
Giles walked through the sea of shattered glass to where Willow and Tara sat by the vampire’s side. Judging by the amount of blood on the floor and on Spike, the vampire had not gone down quietly, but the open, blank stare on Spike’s face worried him. He leaned down and shook the vampire on the shoulder.
“Spike.” He shook a little harder when he got no response. “Spike!”
“It’s no use, Mr. Giles,” Tara said.
Giles sighed. “Unfortunately, if what you say is true and Glory does have Dawn, then we need Spike because he is the only one who has any idea where Glory would have taken her.”
“Why?” Buffy demanded. “Why would Spike know where Glory took Dawn? What else are you keeping from us, Giles?”
Giles sighed again. “I know that Spike has done extensive legwork on Glory and her plans to use the Key. It’s been his obsession for the last few months.”
“Oh and here I thought Buffy was his obsession. Nice to know the guy can split his attentions like that,” Xander commented irritably.
“Xander, not now,” Buffy snapped back.
“It is true that Spike has been… preoccupied with his feelings for Buffy…”
“He loves her,” Tara interjected. “And Dawn.”
“Yes, I do believe he does,” Giles agreed. “As such, keeping the two of them safe has been his priority. I have yet to determine how much his presence and actions have affected this situation. I know there has been a great deal that he has done in the demon world. What he has uncovered, he has been reluctant to tell me, probably because he thought I would not help him. I have no doubt that he knows more about Glory and the ceremony than he has let on.”
“Because Spike never keeps secrets and tells lies,” Buffy snarked.
Giles ignored her comment. “It is quite possible that Spike has an idea of where the ceremony is taking place and when. We need to do everything we can to bring him back from wherever he has gone.”
“I can try to do that Giles,” Willow offered. “There are some spells…”
“Good, Willow. You do that,” he confirmed.
“In the meantime, we can go through this box of scrolls Spike had me get from this creepy guy’s apartment,” Buffy said, indicating the small wooden chest she had dropped on the floor when she returned to the Magic Box.
“Who?” Giles asked.
Buffy picked up the box and handed it to Giles. “Spike told me about this demon guy he killed. He said he heard that he was a follower of Glory and might have a box of scrolls that could help us, but that he never got a chance to go check it out. I told him I would go.”
She looked around at the wreckage, frowning guiltily.
“It was why I wasn’t here when… Giles you don’t think…”
The older man cut her off. “No. I seriously doubt he knew Glory would attack that quickly. If he had, he most certainly would have urged us to move faster. It is likely that he was taken by surprise.”
“Still, if I’d been here…”
“You would most probably have been killed or otherwise defeated by her. Glory is very strong,” he assured.
“You’re probably right,” she conceded.
“Well, let’s see what’s in this box, shall we. Where did you say Spike sent you?”
“Some rat’s nest on the other side of town. Real dump that smelled awful. Spike said he killed the guy who lived there.”
“Was there a body?” Anya asked suddenly.
Buffy’s brow creased. “Actually, no there wasn’t. But there was a big bloodstain on the rug. Struck me as odd because Spike isn’t known for cleaning up after himself.”
Anya looked thoughtful for a moment, then gave a confident smile. “It was probably scavengers. There are demons that eat carrion.”
Buffy crinkled up her nose. “Ewwww. So did not need to know that.”
“Here, let’s clear a space and see what these scrolls have to offer. I doubt we have much time so we need to work quickly,” Giles said.
“We’re just about ready here, Mr. Giles,” Willow announced from where she and Tara sat by Spike.
“Very good. I hope you succeed in bringing him back.”
“So I can kill him,” Buffy added lowly.
Giles ignored her as he cleared away a safe spot to sit and read the scrolls.
********
Willow lit the incense and cast the spell that would allow her access to Spike’s mind. Breathing in deeply, she recited the words and felt her consciousness slip inwards, going through a dark tunnel. When she finally stopped moving, she opened her eyes to see a dark and barren wasteland. The earth was blackened and devoid of all life, fissures in the ground belched foul-smelling smoke. The sky was blood red with ominous black clouds and thunder rumbled in the distance. Looking around across the empty plain, she spied a fortress looming on the horizon.
‘Guess that’s where I need to go,’ the young witch thought.
As she made her way across the scorched earth, Willow realized that it wasn’t as empty as she had originally thought. All along the way, there were bodies, covered in black ash, littered on the ground. At first, she thought it was a battlefield and that the corpses were fallen soldiers, but then she realized that the dead ranged from the very young to the very old, with men and women of all ages in between.
‘His victims,’ she realized, gasping.
Tears stung her eyes as she lost count of the dead; pitiful, twisted bodies strewn all long her way. They were silent as she passed, and only the howling wind answered her unspoken prayers. It sickened her to see them, contorted in their death throes: a young woman preserved in a silent scream here, a man with a railroad spike jutting out of his eye socket there. Hundreds of them, thousands of them; the accumulated carnage of a century of killing, and she wondered to herself how she could have ever considered this creature to be her friend. How she could ever have turned her back to him or left him with her lover or trusted him in any way.
‘He was an unrepentant killer for over a hundred years. He tried to kill Buffy lots of times. He tried to kill me, and Xander. The only thing that stopped him was the chip. What could Tara have been talking about when she said he’d changed?’
But hadn’t he? He’d been helping them for the past year. He’d taken beatings and risked his unlife to keep the rest of them safe. And Tara insisted on multiple occasions that Spike deserved better treatment from them. But how could he when he had killed so many without remorse or mercy?
‘It doesn’t matter right now. We need him, so I have to get him back.’
The ground rumbled beneath her feet and she felt a shiver of fear run up her spine. Stepping up her pace she hurried for the fortress, feeling an urgency she hadn’t felt before. Eyes were watching her, she just knew it. She could feel them staring holes into her back, and she began to run. Snarls came from behind her and the sound of rushing feet dogged her heels. Terror seized her and she raced across the open plain, praying that she would reach safety before whatever was behind her managed to catch up.
The ground she thought was flat proved to be anything but as holes opened underneath her feet as she ran, tripping her up and adding to her growing panic. The snarls were still behind her and they were getting closer, but she was almost to the forbidding walls of the fortress. Picking herself up off the blackened ground where she had fallen beside the body of a teenaged girl, she wrenched her gaze away from the horror of the girl’s screaming face and made a final dash.
She hit the solid metal doors, sobbing with relief as she found it unlocked. Grabbing the heavy handle in both hands she pulled with all her strength. The door creaked but did not open. Half mad with panic, knowing her pursuers were almost at the gates, she yanked as hard as she could, feeling the rusted hinges begin to give way. She screamed and pulled again, and the heavy door screamed back as it screeched open.
Only opening it wide enough to squeeze her thin body through, she slammed the door behind her and threw the heavy bar. Twin thuds thumped against the other side, nails scraping across the metal, and two howls rose up over the high wall, as she paused a moment to catch her breath and calm down before she took stock of her surroundings.
Leaning against the barred door, she turned around and looked upon an empty stone courtyard. There were no bodies here, in fact it looked as if the open space had been swept completely clean, and there was another door directly across from her, this one wooden and arched. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she staggered her way across the courtyard, and put her hand on the door handle. It, too, was unlocked, but appeared to have been unused for a long time.
It didn’t take as much effort to open this door as it had the larger, outer one, and soon she found herself looking down a long, stone hallway. Closing the door behind her, she kept an ear out for any dangers or surprises, and made her way down the hall. There was an opening off to her left and she turned to find a half open door. Flickering light was coming from behind the door, so she slipped in quietly and found herself in a library. The flickering light was coming from a fire crackling in the large stone hearth, but it was who was sitting beside said fire that made her gasp.
His hair was sandy brown and a riot of soft curls that defied their owner by slipping out of the band he tried to keep it in. Thin wire glasses perched daintily upon his sharp nose as he held a well-loved book in his delicate, perfectly manicured hand. He was dressed as a Victorian gentleman in gray tweed, one leg crossed over the other as he read the book in his hand. A cup of tea, long forgotten, sat on the table beside him, along with a small plate of crackers and sausage.
“Spike?” Willow gasped, shattering the quiet.
The figure jumped, dropping the book, and looked at her with shocked eyes.
“Oh! Oh dear…” he stammered, scrambling to pick up the book.
He handled it with great care, stroking the spine to make sure it hadn’t been broken.
“Spike, is that you?” she tried again, taking a tentative step closer.
“Spike? Who? Oh no, not I. I am not… he,” he replied.
The resemblance was remarkable. Take away the brown hair and tweed, and replace them with platinum blonde and black leather, and it was Spike without a doubt. Her quick mind quickly tried to figure out what was going on.
“William?” she offered.
The Spike look-alike stood up tall and straightened his jacket. “Yes. I am William.”
‘Okay, like, totally weird. Spike was a real nerd when he was alive.’
“Um, hi. I’m Willow.”
William bowed stiffly. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Willow, although I am confused as to how you came to be here.”
“I came in through the front door.”
He looked surprised. “You did? You crossed the… oh. Oh, I see.” He dropped his eyes and turned away.
“Yeah, I crossed the field full of bodies.”
“The cemetery… yes.”
“It’s kinda creepy out there, actually.”
William nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am aware.” He raised his eyes to her again. “You must be very brave.”
“Well, I kinda needed to get in here. I’m looking for someone. Hey, maybe you know him. He looks a lot like you only he’s got bleached blonde hair and wears a lot of black.”
William stiffened and stared at her. “Him? What… what do you want with him?”
“I need his help. Can you tell me where he is?”
William shook his head sadly. “I don’t think he can help you, m’lady. He’s… he’s been indisposed for quite some time. I haven’t seen him in a good while. He used to come and taunt me, tease me about my reading and poetry.”
“Poetry?” Willow repeated.
William sniffed and turned up his nose. “I’m quite good, really.” Eyes opened wide in hope. “Would you like to see?”
“Umm, sure.”
He gave her a brilliant smile and scrambled to retrieve a yellowed note pad from a shelf. He handed it to her proudly, and fidgeted his hands as she read the neat handwriting.
“Effulgent?” she repeated.
He gave her a shy smile. “It was my last work. I died before I could write another.”
“Whoa. You died?”
“Well, yes, of course. Mr. Parker stole the notepad from me and read the work aloud. It wasn’t finished, of course, and the ink was still a bit wet, but… Afterwards, my lovely Cecily rejected me and I ran out into the street.” His eyes grew misty and far away. “That’s when *she* found me. She saw me, saw what was inside of me and wanted me to be with her. I agreed. It hurt. When she bit me, that is. Hurt a lot, but then it didn’t hurt anymore and I went somewhere far away. It was nice there. Peaceful. I could see what was happening to what remained of my body, but I was somewhat removed. It did not affect me.”
He paused and looked around the library. “And then I came to be here. Something happened. The demon… the one you called Spike. He… I was called back. We really didn’t get along at first. In fact, we rather loathed each other. It was quite unpleasant. But then *they* came, and he protected me from them. He said I would be safe in here, and so far that has been true. They haven’t been able to cross the threshold. They tried for a while, but then they stopped trying. That’s when he stopped coming to check on me…”
Willow creased her brow, trying to take it all in. Then her eyes opened wide as the truth dawned on her and she gasped, covering her mouth with both hands.
“Oh my goddess. You’re his *soul!*”
William blinked at her. “Well, yes. I suppose I am.”
She stared at him in abject shock. “What… how… Was Spike cursed?”
“Cursed? Good Lord, no. He chose me.”
“Chose you? How?”
“The demon he went to gave me to him.”
“Demon? What demon?”
“The one in Africa. The one he went to see after…” He stopped, looking away and lowering his eyes. A slight shudder passed through his thin frame.
“After?...” she prompted.
William shook his head. “After. In the time before.”
Willow was confused but she knew she had to let it go. She was running out of time and she had to get Spike back if they wanted to save Dawn.
“Look. I don’t understand, but I don’t have time right now. I need to find Spike. Can you tell me where he is?”
William looked at the half open door and shied away, wringing his hands. “I cannot leave this room. They’ll get me if I do. You should stay here with me. You’ll be safe here. The tea cup is always full and the plate replenishes itself…”
Willow motioned for him to be silent. “I can’t. People are depending on me. Glory has Dawn and Spike might know where she’s been taken. I have to find him and get him to come back with me.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Can you tell me if he’s here in this fortress?”
William nodded slowly. “Yes. I’ve never seen him go… out.”
“Okay. I’m gonna go look for him.”
He looked at her with worried, frightened eyes. “Do be careful, Miss Willow. Don’t let *them* get you.”
She set her jaw and nodded. “I won’t.” She turned and put a hand on the door jam before casting him a backward glance. “And thanks.”
“You’re most welcome,” he whispered back as she left him behind. “Good luck.”
‘I’m gonna need it,’ she thought to herself as she stepped back into the stone hall.
********
Buffy walked over the where Tara was sitting vigil over her lover and the catatonic vampire.
“Any change?”
Tara shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, Buffy. But I’m sure Willow is doing everything she can to bring Spike back. It just might take some time.”
“We don’t have time, and every minute Glory has Dawn, the less of it we have.”
Tara frowned. “I know, but…”
“Buffy...” Giles called.
Turning her head, the Slayer looked at her Watcher and sighed.
“Let me know if she so much as twitches,” she said to Tara.
Tara nodded and gave her a watery smile.
“What did you find?” she asked
Giles hesitated, then haltingly answered, “Well, according to these scrolls, there is a way to stop Glory.”
Buffy waited for him to continue, but when he finally did, his voice was awkward and unsure.
“I'm afraid it... Buffy. I've read these very carefully. There's not much margin for error. Do you understand what I'm saying?”
“Might help if you actually said it,” she replied dryly.
“Glory plans to open a dimensional portal by way of ritual bloodletting,” he told her sadly.
“Dawn's blood?”
“Yes. Once the blood is shed at a certain time and place, the fabric separating all realities will be ripped apart. Dimensions will pour into one another with no barriers to stop them. Reality as we know it will be destroyed, and chaos will reign on Earth.”
“So how do we stop it?”
“The portal will only close once the blood is stopped. And the only way for that to happen is ...” He paused then looked directly at Buffy and said grimly, “Buffy- the only way is to kill Dawn.”
Buffy gave him a blank stare then set her jaw. “Not an option. Give me something else.”
“Buffy... we might not have any choice.”
“Explain it to me again,” she insisted calmly and slowly.
“The Key was living energy. It needed to be channeled,
poured into a specific
spot at a specific time. With all attendant ritual, of course. The energy would
flow
into that spot, the walls between the dimensions break down. It stops -- the
energy is used up -and the walls come back up. Glory uses that time to get back
to her
dimension, not caring that all manner of hell will be unleashed on Earth in the
meantime,” Giles answered.
“But only for a little while, right? The walls come back, no more hell?” Anya interrupted.
“But that's only if the energy is stopped. And now that the Key is human ... is Dawn ...” Tara replied, proving to the others that she was listening from her spot on the floor.
“The blood flows, the gates will open. The gates will close when it flows no more,” Giles recited from the scroll. “That will be when Dawn is dead.”
“Why blood? Why is it Dawn's blood, why couldn't it be, like, a lymph ritual?” Xander huffed, upset.
“Because blood is life,” Tara whispered.
There was a pause as everyone digested what Tara had said, then Buffy moved on.
“Okay, pretty simple math, here. We stop Glory before she can start the ritual. There's still a few hours, right?”
“If my calculations are right, but Buffy...”
“I don't want to hear it...”
“I understand that...” he tried again.
“No you don't understand! We're not talking about this!” she yelled.
“Yes we bloody well are!” Giles yelled back, standing up. “If Glory begins the ritual... If we can't stop her ...”
Buffy stepped up to him, defiant and enraged. “Say it. Come on, we're bloody well talking about this, tell me to kill my sister!”
“She's not your sister,” he reminded softly.
“No. She's not. She's more than that.” Buffy stopped, trying to find the right words. “More than family... my sister, my daughter...”
“She's your sister and your daughter?” Xander said, confused.
“She's me. The Monks made her out of me. I hold her and I feel closer to her than... It's more than just the memories they built, it's physical, it's... Dawn is a part of me. The only part that I...”
She stopped unable to go on. Tara left her place by Willow and Spike’s side, and came over to hug her.
“We’ll solve this. We will,” the young witch promised.
“Buffy, if the ritual starts, every living creature in this and every other dimension imaginable will suffer unbearable torment and Death. Including Dawn,” Giles said sadly.
“Then the last thing she'll see is me protecting her.”
Giles shook his head. “You'll fail. You'll die. We all will.”
“I'm sorry. I love you all, but I'm sorry.”
Anya raised her hand. “Okay, all in favor of stopping
Glory BEFORE the ritual! Suggestions? Ideas? Time's a-wastin' ... Oh! Willow! I
bet Willow’s got some dark
spell a'brewin'. Make her a toad, little hoppy toad, then we hit her with a
hammer...”
“What about Ben? He can be killed, right? I mean, I know he's an innocent, but, you know, not, like ‘Dawn’ innocent. We could kill... a regular guy...” Xander offered, then hung his head when Giles looked at him. “God...”
“It's doubtful he'll surface again this close to the ritual. Especially after the Knights’ failed assassination attempt. We have to expect it's Glory we're dealing with,” Giles countered.
Anya began to panic. “Well somebody come up with something!”
“Should we join essences and become superslayer again?” Xander suggested.
“That worked against Frankenbot, but to kill a true god... I don't think it's enough. And I need you guys conscious ...” Buffy replied with a sad shrug.
“But we don't have to kill her, just stop her from performing the ritual. I mean, there's just the one time she can do it, right?” Tara said.
“Yeah, we get her on the ropes, we just gotta keep her occupied till it's too late!” Xander enthused.
“Okay, but I'm still not hearing enough ideas, she's a god, let's think outside the box!”
“Anya, apart from your incredibly uninfectious enthusiasm, have you anything to contribute? Any ideas on how to fight a god?” Giles commented testily.
“How about we don't pick on my gi...” Xander began but Anya cut him off.
“The Dagon's Sphere!” the ex-demon piped up.
“Sorry?” Giles said.
“When Buffy first met Glory she found that magical glowy sphere that was meant to repel Glory. We've got it in the basement. It might drive her back, or hurt her... oh!” She ran across the room and waved at the Troll Hammer. “And Olaf the Trollgod's enchanted hammer. You wanna fight a god, use the weapon of a god.”
Buffy crossed to it and picked it up, hefting it easily.
“I like this.”
“Built for squashin'!” Anya cheered, waving her fist.
“Good heft to it. I just might do some damage with this. Thanks Anya.”
“Here to help. Want to live,” came the simple reply.
“Well. We have some ideas. And a little time to come up with some more. Could give Glory a decent run, but ...” Giles said.
They all looked to where Spike still lay motionless and staring with Willow, her eyes closed, sitting cross-legged next to him.
“But we still have no idea how to find her,” Buffy murmured.
********