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Chapter 46: Intervention
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The sound echoes long after he stops screaming. Spike curls up tight, trying to contain the pain surging through his body. Minutes pass in silence as the echoes finally fade.

When he realizes the pain that burned through his chest is finally slowing, Spike begins to loosen his limbs, letting his body unfold. With a supreme effort considering the way his skin still sings with recent pain, he pries one eye open, the clear blue clouded with confusion. The sight that greets him is not at all what he expected. Both eyes pop open and he sits up, a bit too quickly.

“Bloody fucking hell.” Spike holds his head and looks around more slowly. Everything is so bright, he can’t quite tell where he is. “Or maybe...heaven?” He worries a hand through his hair, pushing it into disarray, trying to figure out who made a huge paperwork mistake and sent him to heaven. A figure stands in front of him, glowing so white hot he cannot see anything else.

“I do hope the pain did not last too long, Spike. And no, this is not heaven.” Her voice slices through the fog in his mind and he realizes it is because her voice is ONLY in his mind. He blinks, shakes his head to clear it. Pushing himself up from the grass beneath him, biting off a moan, Spike gets to his feet. The blazing light in front of him dims so he can see the figure in front of him more clearly. Light pushes from around her, contained for the moment so she merely glows. A tall woman stands there, topping him by a few inches. Her robes are pristine, flowing around her in a cloud of soft fabric. Silver cords wrap around her, tracing her waist and torso. The skin he can see is so light it is nearly translucent. A mane of silken black hair is bound up in the same cords on her head in an elaborate design. Spike blinks, speechless. And so she speaks again. “You can hear me, can’t you?” Her voice is musical, tones gentle and harmonious, caressing his mind. Spike finds himself lulled by the sound, but finally rouses to speech.

“Yes, I can...hear you. In my soddin’ head, that is. Not sure how you are managing that little parlor trick. And I don’t know who you are...and why I’m not dead. Unless I am?” Spike frowns, looking around again. His hands run down his chest, but he feels quite solid. He considers checking to see if she is real, but something about the aura pouring off this woman makes him reluctant to move any closer. Power. He can smell it.

“So many questions. I forgot how mortals can be. It’s been some time.” She laughs, and the sound pounds his mind from the inside out. Spike swallows. He was right about the power. She is so far from human he’s not sure what to do. “Hmm. Where to begin? You are not dead. At least, no more than you were.” She smiles and Spike finally focuses on her face. If he was not already sure that he was dealing with something other than human, the eyes would have told him. They are not quite blue, not quite gray and they seem to have no end. He breaks eye contact before he loses himself in them.

“And Buffy? She’s okay?” Spike tenses, jaw twitching. If those robed bints tricked him...

“She is well as can be expected. She did hear you scream before I stopped time.”

Spike sighs in relief that she is unhurt and then shakes his head, not quite sure he heard her correctly. “Before you stopped what now?”

She smiles briefly. “I needed time to speak with you and my daughters do not like to be interrupted. Better to just stop time for a few minutes. I have friends in high places, you might say.”

Spike stares at this woman in front of him, unsure of which question to ask next. The waves of old power she emits are making him feel lightheaded. That, and the almost being killed thing. “Luv, can you start over? I have no bloody idea what is going on. I thought I was making a sacrifice? And could you maybe speak out loud? Words bouncing around inside my skull are not the most comfortable thing.”

She brushes by his question, but her next words are audible. Spike sighs in relief. “My daughters are quite set in their ways, mortal. They have been undisputed in their power for much too long. It is good to remind them they are not infallible. Do you know me, young one?”

“‘fraid not. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say, you’re a goddess? Just a hunch.”

She smiles softly at him. “I am Themis, mate of Zeus, mother of the Fates. Do you know me now?”

Spike digs deep in his brain for his classical education of a hundred years ago. He’s read about the gods of ancient Greece, never realizing they were real. Themis...yes!
“An oracle, eh?” He smiles, happy with himself. “At Delphi, no less.”

Another smile. “Yes, that is how man knows me. I tell the future. I write prophecies by dictating them to men.” She pauses, watching for the connection to be made. Spike’s face lights up.

“It was you! You wrote the prophecy I’m in! Bloody hell.” Spike starts to pace, hands on his hips. This is all a bit too much for him to take in all at once.

“Ah, I knew I was right about you. Clever. But I have other powers, unknown to common man. I am the goddess of oaths and of divine justice. And I see a need to fulfill one and dispense the other.” She pauses, sinking into a chair Spike did not notice until just then.

“You swore an oath to love her. To save her by giving up your own existence. To avenge her death should it come prematurely. I do not brush by such oaths. Particularly not from soulless beings. I abide them.” She rests her chin on her hand, studying the blond vampire as he fidgets back and forth across the space in front of her. The frenetic nature of the mortal world is always entertaining. “Certainly you don’t think I simply write the prophecies?”

“What do you mean?” He squints at her. For the first time, he realizes they are still in the circle of fire, only it is frozen, motionless. The orange flames behind her are stopped in mid-flicker and the sound is gone. He casts a glance over his shoulder briefly, only to find the Fates are still there, but are held like statues, arms still raised. Spike turns back to Themis, eyes a bit wider.

She leans forward, threatening to pull him into her bottomless eyes. “I make them happen. I push the Fates this way and that a bit, put ideas in the heads of other gods and of course, mortals. The Fates do not know it. My girls would not approve. But I am a Titan. An ancient one, pre-dating the gods. I am what you might call...set in my ways.” Her mouth twitches up in a half-smile.

“So, this is all not really up to the Fates? They said I had only two choices. Their two choices.”

“Stubborn girls. Impetuous. Sometimes, they are downright bullies. Don’t tell them I said so, but they get it from their father. Zeus is all storm and bluster sometimes. Insists everything is done his way.”

Spike chuckles, starting to really like this bird. This god. He swallows, realizing she could likely blink him out of existence without straining a muscle. His laughter dies quickly.

“The truth is, you do not have any choices as I am not giving you one. My prophecy will be fulfilled as I intended. Not as the Fates intended. I won’t have them bending my words to their own ends. You have defied your destiny so many times, your current path has become your new destiny. They don’t like that one bit. Well, I don’t like my prophecies being abused and I happen to have more power than they do, so I did something about it.”

Spike grins fully. He definitely likes her. Only he hopes her choice is better than being dusted by the three Fates.

“As I said, I am, among other things, the goddess of divine justice. And the justice I plan to dispense deals with my wayward daughters. Their divine power makes them foolhardy and I will put them in their place. They know full well you are not to die today. And they also know that the humanity in question is not the Slayer’s.”

The words scroll through Spike’s mind: His triumph will bring humanity to light, his failure will bring only darkness. His existence is the price.

Spike stops pacing, turns to face her fully. His words come out slowly. “Not Buffy’s humanity?” Inwardly, he curses the three Fates for lying to him.

“And not all of humanity as the one called Giles thought. There is only one humanity I had in mind.” She stops speaking and just rests her eyes on Spike. The way light seems to emit from her skin is making it hard for him to concentrate on her words. Not to mention the eerie time-stopping. He notices even the wind has stopped blowing. A thought enters his mind, but he instantly tries to dismiss it. A few feet away, Themis nods. Spike flinches. Great, she reads minds, too.

“Yes. Yours.”

“That’s all very interesting, luv, but I don’t have any humanity, remember? Vampire? Soulless creature of the night, yeah?”

She shakes her head and light seems to shake from her like water. “You have more humanity than even you realize. My girls did tell you one thing true. Drusilla was meant to kill you. When you became a vampire, I took note of you for one very good reason. Angelus was meant to be the figure in my prophecy, but the spark was not there. In you, I observed something. Something more. It is complicated. When Clotho created a new thread for your existence as a vampire, Lachesis wove it into your old thread as William. Only she left a small thread of him there. And it grew, flowed along with you as a vampire. Separate, but present.” She paused. “Do you understand?”

Spike squinted at her, turning these concepts over in his head. “You are saying that...William has never left me completely? A bit of him still in here?” He splays a hand to his chest, covering his heart.

“Yes. He gives you the capacity to love the way you do. The demon in you has held his influence at bay for some time, but when you met Buffy...something changed. He...asserted himself.” She smiles softly, and Spike feels the warmth from her glow on his skin. It warms him more than the artificial sunshine created by the Fates.

“So...it wasn’t you who made me fall in love with Buffy to make your prophecy work? It was the bloody poet in me?”

She laughs lightly before reclining in her chair. “That’s right. One of the most fortuitous things that could have happened. I had wanted you for that prophecy for some time and you paved the way without my help. Well, I helped a little. I planted an idea in the most impressionable Psyche and she ran with it. Convinced Cupid to...awaken your interest further. Reveal your feelings for the world to see.” The grin is mischievous and Spike runs his tongue across his front teeth, remembering just how much his interest had been awakened after Cupid’s interference.

“So, uh, what’s next, then?” Spike feels his skin itch in anticipation. Maybe he will not die this night after all. He had grown used to the idea. Grown used to the thought of having to leave Buffy, though it tore him to pieces inside. Now, maybe this goddess was going to change his...life?

She smiles, and it reaches all the way to her cavernous, storm cloud eyes this time. “This might hurt a little.”

* * * * * Chapter 47: Heartbeat * * * * *



Spike finds himself without fear as Themis stands and comes near, drawn to his knees by just a look from the storm clouds in those eyes. He feels the light building, surging around her with a force so strong there is sound to the light, there is heat. Crackling, snapping energy swirling, building in intensity until it gathers into Themis herself. Her skin, glowing before, blazes light so bright Spike flinches, closes his eyes as his world goes white. In the next second, he feels the light rush into him, seeking out every corner of his body, pushing into every void, expanding his veins, his lungs and finally, his long dead heart.

With a gasp, Spike takes a breath. Then, another. In the next second, with a thump of his heart, he kickstarts a rhythm he has not maintained in over a hundred years. Now sprawled forward on his hands and knees, Spike breathes wildly as the light burns through him and finally begins to recede. He opens his eyes and spots dance in front of them as his heart races, unused to its new task, beats skipping and bounding inside his chest. An unfamiliar warmth pulses out from his chest, slipping and pouring through his body until he feels his toes tingle and his fingertips throb with it. Finally, Spike sits back on his heels and looks up at Themis, eyes wild.

She is the picture of calm, seated back on her throne-like chair, eyes gone nearly gentle as she watches him struggle. Spike’s hand clutches his shirt, trying in vain to control his heartbeat. His cheeks flush, newly pumping blood filling them with a pink glow. Themis leans forward just a little, “Are you well, William? Can you feel the life pulsing through you?”

Spike nods, swallowing hard as his heart rate finally begins to slow and stabilize. Short of breath, gasping, he breathes out a reply. “What exactly just happened?”

A small smile plays across her lips as Themis regards him. “I brought your humanity to light.” A light dances in her eyes. “As was prophesied.”

Spike falls silent, assessing the new feelings in his body. The warmth he emanates, the way his heart thrums strong in his chest. And still, a strength beyond any human. Senses sharp enough to smell the scent of Themis’ hair, to taste the air around him. His eyebrows draw down tightly as he snaps his eyes to hers. His voice is low, focused and a flicker of gold flashes in his eyes. “I’m still a vampire.” Spike rises to his feet, his body tense with power. “I’m...what in hell am I?”

Themis, calm as ever, holds him in his place with a flick of her eyes. “You are one like no other, William. I took the two threads of your existence and blended them to make you both human and vampire. Strong, but not immortal. A thirst for blood, a need for food. Do you understand? You were chosen.” She pauses. “By me.”

He stares at her for a few seconds, her meaning sinking in.

“For her.” Spike’s face opens in amazement. “For Buffy. I can be with her. Stay with her. Fight by her side.” He swallows, tears rising suddenly and his voice barely audible. “I can actually grow old with her.” Eyes wet, he grins at the goddess in front of her.

She returns a soft smile and nods. “For someone who has just lost his immortality, you seem pleased.”

“Sod the immortality. I’ve lived a bleedin’ long time already. I never thought I could be what she needed. Not really. And now you’ve done it. I still don’t understand why, but I’m bloody pleased you did.” Spike feels his heart race in excitement and puts his hand to his chest. “This is going to take some getting used to.” He pauses, his focus inward, his body gone very very still. When he finally lifts his eyes to meet Themis’, they are soft and blue and full of an indefinable emotion.

She seems to know what he is going to ask before he does. Themis begins to nod as Spike speaks. “A soul?”

“Indeed.”

“It...I can feel it. It’s really there.” Suddenly, his face goes completely serious and his gaze sharpens, face drawn and serious. He stands up, ramrod straight, and faces her. “What’s the catch?”

For the first time since appearing from thin air, Themis looks momentarily confused. “The catch? What do you mean?”

“I mean, is it like Peaches’ soul? I get to be with Buffy, but I can’t be with Buffy?”

“Peaches?” Themis’ ivory-skinned features continue to be marred by wrinkles of confusion.

“Sorry. Angel...Angelus? Got cursed with the soul, can’t get ‘happy’ or poof, he’s evil?”

Themis hesitates a moment longer and then laughs softly. “Oh, yes. He was cursed by the Romany. A souled vampire, but with...restrictions. That would be the ‘catch’ you speak of?”

Spike nods in reply, unable to keep a smirk from his face.

“There is no such ‘catch’ with your soul, William. Or Spike. Really, both are correct now. You are both of them more than ever.”

The smirk spreads into a full grin, crisp blue eyes flashing with mirth. “Well, that’s bloody well fantastic, love. Feel like I hit the lottery.” He cocks an eyebrow at her. “Sure there’s no catch?”

“I am quite certain. Your Slayer is The Slayer of this age. She deserves a partner who can match her strength, her heart and her soul. You are now that match. If there is a catch, it is that you should not make a goddess angry. You will not squander this gift. Understand?” Her power, muted until this moment, floods over Spike in a wave, making him lightheaded and nauseous. Themis’ stormy eyes flash a warning not lost on Spike.

“Not to worry. You’re one bird I’m not going to cross.”

Themis rises to her feet again and in a blink, the chair behind her is gone. Her robes flow in a breeze of her own making, as the world around them is still frozen. “Good. You have a survival instinct. This will serve you well in the years to come. Remember, William, you can be killed now. In all the ways both mortals and vampires alike may die.”

“Got it. And...thanks. You won’t regret this.”

“You’re right. For if I come to feel any regret for this gift, I will ensure you feel that same regret a thousand times over. I know you will do all in your power to prevent such an unfortunate result.”

Spike swallows, the unfamiliar feeling of his heart racing in fear cutting through him. Her power is beyond reproach and he is quite sure she is the most dangerous woman he has ever been near, Buffy included. The sensation of his heartbeat pounding in his ears is disturbing and he realizes this living, breathing gig is going to take some getting used to.

“You’ve got my word.”

Themis pauses, studies the serious man in front of her and smiles slightly in satisfaction. Her choice is a good one.

“Farewell. Oh, and do not let my daughters threaten you anymore. You will not die today.” Themis starts to gesture with her hands and then hesitates. “Time will resume now. Be ready. And be well.” She completes a wave of one hand with the nonchalance of a goddess. Spike is immediately blinded by white light once again as he feels the world rush back over him. Sound and scent and noise flood his senses as the white light fades. He is again in the center of a circle of crackling fire facing three immortals. He glances around sharply, but all signs of Themis are gone. Spike’s hand goes to his chest and breathes a sigh of relief. His heartbeat is still there. It was real.

The false daylight created by Clotho has vanished, letting the moonlight back into the stone circle. The three Fates lower their arms, faces filled with confusion. The blond vampire is not screaming in pain or even cowering. He is standing upright, arms crossed, looking somewhere between cocky and pissed.

Clotho is the first to recover and speak. Her voice is harsh and angry and it cuts into Spike, who doesn’t even flinch. “Vampire, what have you done? How have you...”

“It’s not fun when someone toys with your big plans, is it? A right pisser, I know. Turns out you three are bit full of yourselves and your power is not all that you made it out to be.” Spike smirks, trying to remember his new human vulnerability, but finding it difficult to back down from these three.

Atropos’ voice crackles over the air, making the hair on the back of Spike’s neck stand on end. “How dare you speak to us this way! I will not have it, creature.” With a sharp gesture, she conjures Spike’s thread into her hand and whips out her scissors, ignoring the words from her sisters. The blades flash with firelight as she starts to close them over the newly merged thread. With a sudden crack, the scissors fly from her hand and she screams, holding her hand in pain as she falls to her knees. Spike’s thread starts to fall, but is snatched into the hands of Lachesis, who looks at it in wonder.

“It has been fully merged. How is this possible?”

Spike tilts his head to the side, one eyebrow lifted. “Oh, did I forget to mention it? Your mum told me to give you a message. She says, ‘Sod off.’ Only not in so many words.” Pale faces go paler still as the three sisters quail at the mention of Themis. Clotho strides forward, but keeps her distance from Spike. “You do not know our mother.”

“Sure I do. Tall gal, ‘bout yea high.” Spike gestures a few inches above his own height. “Black hair, white robes? A looker, too. And a bit unhappy with you lot.” He smiles. “Thought you should know. She says to keep your mitts off me ‘til it’s my real time to go. I’m thinking she has something to do with that, Grams.” Atropos scowls up at him, her hand curled up, blistered and red. She gets to her feet, but doesn’t say a word.

“Let us be gone, sisters. He is nothing to us now.” Her grating voice seems to wake Clotho and Lachesis from their fear and confusion.

“Yeah, nice meetin’ ya! See you in fifty years or so, right?” They turn from him without another sound and as they take a few steps away, they begin to fade from view. “Don’t let the portal hit your asses on the way out!”

With a sudden crack and pop that makes Spike’s ears ring, the fire surrounding him vanishes as the Fates wink from view. He is suddenly very very tired and feels himself slowly sink to the ground.

“Spike!” Finally released from Giles’ and Xander’s grips, Buffy runs forward, throwing herself on the ground next to him. His eyes are slightly out of focus, but he is still semi-conscious. “Spike! Are you okay?”

He grimaces, and then tries to smile in reassurance. “I’m not deaf, love. And yeah, ‘m okay. Just...tired. Can I just...rest for a minute?” The sudden changes to his physical self are taking a toll on Spike and the adrenaline of facing the Fates is wearing off in a hurry. His eyes slip closed, his hand lightly grasping Buffy’s. Xander, Anya, Giles and Willow come up behind her, faces showing their confusion and worry.

Buffy leans forward, relieved to see that her love is still in one piece. The short period of time he was in the circle and out of reach felt like an eternity. And now, to see him again and seemingly unhurt. Her throat closes as tears push their way toward her eyes. She drops down, resting her head on his chest and clutching him to her.

The first clue is the warmth. She quickly writes that off to his time in the fire circle. And then, there is the way his chest is rising and falling. But then again, he usually breathes. A habit, he says.

But the heartbeat. She has no explanation for that one. And yet, there it is, thumping along slow and steady. Giles sees Buffy’s entire body go rigid as she presses her ear into his chest.

“Buffy, what is it? What’s wrong?” She doesn’t answer, waving him silent for another minute. Buffy concentrates on slowing her own heart to avoid any confusion, any misunderstanding. Her left hand reaches for his wrist and feels for the pulse there. And finds it.

Anya wonders aloud, “Giles, why is Buffy checking for Spike’s pulse?”

Taking his glasses off and holding the back of his hand to his mouth for a second, Giles finally answers. The reaction of his Slayer could mean only one thing, really.

“If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because he has one.”