Lady Jane
©2002 Evenstar

 

Chapter 1 - Sacrifice

"SPIKE!! God, stop it! Stop!" Buffy screamed and cried, trying desperately to pry the holy cross from the vampire's embrace. The awful scent of burning flesh and freshly oozing blood was enough to make her sick, but she overcame it in an effort to save him from the self-inflicted torture. One thing she'd always know about William the Bloody was to expect the unexpected. Even she should not have foretold after he'd left her bathroom that fateful night in May that he would journey to Africa to earn his soul; and certainly not the madness that seized him now.

He could not help but cry out as the pain flamed over his body, but he held steadfast to the wooden symbol,"Spike, please, you must listen to me - I've forgiven you. I forgive you." Finally she was able to insinuate her small hand around part of the cross. Using the might of her Slayer strength she took the cross from him, sending it spiraling over the church pew to the other side of the room. He stood there hands and finger still clawed as if he were still holding the object of his torment. The blessed wood had burned away his skin, exposing the muscles underneath and the blood seeping through the sinuous strings and flowing down over his abdomen, his pelvis and down his legs."Did you hear me? I forgive you."

"NO!" He involuntarily dropped to his knees, losing further balance and collapsing on his side. He looked up at her, the only part of his body not marred by a cut of scar was those crystalline blue eyes. There was so much pain in those eyes,"You mustn't ever forgive me!"

"I already have." He crawled to her feet, sobbing, digging his fingers into the dust and rocks that covered the floor of the ruined house of worship.

"Please don't forgive me, don't forgive me...don't forgive me..." She was frozen, unable to will herself to run, afraid to kneel down and offer him comfort. She stayed and he cried and not long after she was evoked into silent tears. Eventually she sat herself down beside him, hugging her knees to her chest. She sniffled and ran her sleeve under her nose and then cleared her throat. Eventually he stopped crying too and simply lay in the dirt, facing away from her.

"We need to get you some help for those burns, and the cuts." He remained silent. She tentatively brushed her fingertips over the bleached ends of his grown out curls, the long dark roots were a contrast. He flinched away, cowered within himself at first, then relaxed when she began to stroke his hair. It wasn't as majestic a scene as the Pieta, but they'd never been anything more or less than real."What are you doing to yourself, William?"

"You must forget William, Heaven won't have him back now that he knows what he became. You must abandon him, he is ugly, unwanted, mad, mean, cold and condemned."

"I can't do that."

"I'll hurt you, I'll taint your goodness, sully your purity." She almost laughed.

"I'm not pure, Spike, far from it."

"But you are, you are the chosen one. I am beneath you." She sighed, still stroking him as though he were just a large cat in her lap.

"Will you wait here for me to go get a first aid kit?" He'd gone into himself again, becoming deathly still and quiet."Give me an hour, I'll be right back." She got up and took off her coat, laying it over him. He looked dead, like a wild beast had torn him open, feasted and left the carcass for the carrion. She went running from the church, stopping once she got inside to collect herself. Breathing deeply, in and out slowly, she tried to process all she'd experience this night. Spike had a soul. Spike had fought for it, earned it. It was killing him.

Buffy jogged back to town after leaving the church and Spike behind. She thought maybe she'd find a drugstore and buy bandages and ointment to hold him together. She spotted Xander, who'd obviously followed her when she'd gone after Spike. He waved and she waited for him to run to her. "So what the hell was all that about?" he asked. After the incident with the product of one of Anya's vengeances Spike had gone berserk from the pain in his head when the wormlike creature had become human again and the vampire had injured him and sent the chip firing. Buffy of course had reacted.

"Do you have any money on you?"

"Yeah, a couple of twenties in my wallet, I think. Why?"

"We need first aid supplies, Spike's hurt." Xander scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"And we care because?"

"I'll pay you back." Incredulous, he fished into his back pocket for his wallet and crammed the bills into her open hand,"Thank you."

"Sure Buffy."

"You can go if you want, I can handle this by myself." Xander merely waved her off.

"Whatever stupid mess fangboy's gotten himself into this time, I want to be around to enjoy the colossal smackdown of it."

"It's not like that..." She accidentally tore one of the twenties she'd been compulsively wringing in her hands.

"I don't know why you bother...after what he did."

"Still none of your business, Xander. Let's go, okay?"

When they returned to the church, Spike was gone. Buffy picked up her coat and brushed the dust off it, noticing where spots of Spike's blood had stained it.

"Damn," she swore under her breath. There was nothing to be done tonight for the fallen man, she just hoped they'd have a chance to talk again.

 

Chapter 2 - Reflections

The Slayer walked through the entranceway and into the room made of mirrors. Like a fun house, the walls were paneled with slats of glass. She smiled like pink cotton candy joy at her infinite selves. Then a hand touched her shoulder and she was startled. Whipping around she was soon exhaling into calm.

"Sorry, pet, didn't mean to frighten. Mirrors, no reflection n' all that," explained Spike, grinning innocently. He wasn't quite himself, his hair was longish, still bleached, but with roots showing. He was dressed in cargo pants that barely stayed above his hips and at his too thin waist. He wore a white tank top and the same old beat up Doc Martens. He was still Spike, just a happier and more relaxed Spike.

"It's okay, but should you really be here, with all the mirrors?"

"Well, yeah, how else am I ever gonna get anywhere?" He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and walked on through the glass. Her mouth was agape at what she'd just witnessed. She could see him on the other side walking jauntily away from her,"Ta, love, don't forget the password!"

"What? Password?" He was gone. She growled in frustration, her voice echoing off the other images of herself, then gasped when they all disappeared. On instinct her hands went to touch her face, making sure she was still real or that she didn't have ridges and fangs. She blinked hard and upon opening her eyes she saw someone else looking back. Buffy was surrounded by innumerable images of another girl. She was younger than Buffy, closer to Dawn's age. Her hair was a mess of dark ringlets affixed atop her head. She was dressed in a simple full length cotton nightgown, decorated with intricate smocking across her chest. The girl's eyes were a dark gray, accented by sharp cheekbones and a puggish nose.

The teenager had her arms outstretched, reaching for Buffy, her lips silently asking for help. Buffy stood immobile and terrified in the center of the room, unable to escape, but also unable to tear herself from the girl's urgent pleas. The Slayer began to panic, her instincts telling her she was under attack. She was mercifully distracted by the reappearance of her vampire. He was hurling himself against one panel of mirror, like her he was wanting to escape.

"Slayer help me! I can't get out!!" She broke away and started to pound her fists on the glass in an effort to rescue him, but she couldn't break through,"Buffy you must hurry! Help me, they're going to come and take my soul! Don't let them take my soul!" She started to kick the mirror,"Please..." he had gone to a whisper,"Baby, don't let them get my soul, I got it for you..." His last line came out as a whimper and then he was farther away, one reflection back, and then another, and another and another until he was only a spec in the distance. Buffy by now was ignoring the young woman, Spike's begging and crying resuming and consuming her.

"BUFFY!!" he screamed just before all the glass exploded.

Buffy sat up in bed gasping for breath, reaching for Spike only to find herself in her own room and Dawn seated at the end of her bed, gently shaking her awake."Are you okay?" Dawn asked.

"What? What time is it?"

"Seven, almost, your alarm's gonna go off in nine minutes. Nightmare? I heard you calling out Spike ."

"Yeah, god, it was horrible."

"I'm sorry Buffy, seeing him last night must have been awful. I swear next time I will stake him."

"No, no, not that kind of nightmare. He was in danger and I couldn't get to him in time."

"That kind of dream? Why are you having dreams like that about Spike? After what happened?"

"He said someone was trying to steal his soul."

"Well that's funny, considering he doesn't have one."

"Not so funny. There's something you need to know about Spike. He has a soul now, Dawn." The younger girl let out an involuntary squeak,"Little too much to take before breakfast?"

"How?"

"It was hard to figure out what exactly happened. He was ranting, panicked, but I know that he went for it, asked for it."

"Wow."

"Understatement."

"All because of what happened in the bathroom?"

"I think so."

"Wow. So he's all good and stuff? Angelus, Angel kind of different?"

"I'm not sure, I haven't really had the chance to find out. He's disturbed, he's been hurting himself. There are cuts all over his chest and stomach. He said he was trying to get at his soul."

"Oh my god."

"He talks in circles, gibberish and sometimes he's okay."

'You're worried about him, aren't you?"

"I can't help it. I've tried to pretend that he doesn't matter, but sometimes we were..."

"Good?"

"Sometimes it was good. I can't forget what happened the last time, but I think I've forgiven him enough to know I do care what happens to him."

"You forgave him when you took me to him when Willow went on her rampage. You know, I used to wish you two would get together."

"Do you still want to stake him?"

"I never wanted to."

"We'll be careful alright? We'll talk to him, maybe help him. He needs it."

"Do you know where he is?"

"No, but I'll go by the crypt after school's out and ask Clem if he knows."

"I want to forgive him Buffy."

"You'll be able to. You'll know when you have." The sound of a dreadful technobeat suddenly filled the room as the alarm clock sounded,"You taking first shower?"

"Of course."

 

Chapter 3 - A Friend in Need

It had been Buffy's intention to leave the office early and visit Clem before heading home to make dinner, but her schedule had been filled until 3:30pm. Her office was small, without a window or any air circulation and it was also in an obscure part of the high school next to a janitor's closet, but it was hers. As the new counselor/liaison for the school Buffy had been able to abandon the Doublemeat Palace, thank god, for something that made her feel worthy beyond slaying. At first she believed herself to be woefully inadequate to counsel students, especially considering her lack of experience or a college degree. As it turned out she found herself more than capable. This was especially after it became obvious that the student sought her advice on primarily supernatural matters. Adults in Sunnydale may have been clueless, but the kids weren't, with possibly the exception of the new principal. Buffy doubted she was chosen for this position because she had gobs of good advice to dole out.

She was busy putting away her files when a suspicious character snuck past her open door. Putting down her folders and taking up the letter opener up off her desk, she went to follow. She spied the abundant shaped man wearing a black hooded sweatshirt to conceal his identity sneak down into the boiler room. Buffy groaned, she was so not in the mood to have someone blow up a high school. Moving cautiously with stealth the Slayer descended into the lower levels.

The intruder was obviously incredibly strong as he'd moved several full crates from his path to reveal a hole in the concrete just big enough for him to fit through. He had just finished putting several sacks through to the other side when the Slayer came upon him. Grabbing the back of his shirt she lifted him up and spun him around. The stranger cried out and tried to shield himself from the attack rather than fight back.

"Clem?!" she said, astonished.

"Slayer?" the wrinkly demon said back.

"What are you doing here?"

"Don't hurt me!" Buffy realized she was holding him forcefully up against the wall and let then let him down gently.

"Sorry Clem." He was fidgeting and behaving rather nervously.

"Don't be mad and please don't hit me! I'm not doing anything bad. No kittens on me even, nothing!" Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not going to hit you."

"Promise?"

"Yes Clem." The demon visibly relaxed.

"Good, thanks. I'm not tough like Spike. I'm not so good with the pain management thing."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, um, nothing, honest. It's just that I remember you two used to be into that kind of thing and maybe Spike could handle all the bruises and broken bones, but I don't heal so quick."

"Broken bones? When?" Clem suddenly felt quite under scrutiny.

"Uh...there was the time right before your birthday party. I came over to his place and found him just barely inside the door. I helped him get to his comfy chair and got him some bloody and whiskey, the patched him up a bit. One of his cheekbones was shattered, there were broken ribs...his collar bone too. There were lots of cuts and bruises but he got a little angry and told me to leave them alone. It took a little while to stop the bleeding on his face, but I did good. It was happening alot so I figured he was okay with it..." Buffy swallowed hard, the lump in her throat felt like it was the size of and apple. Clem was obviously describing that horrible night behind the police station.

"Clem did he ever say anything about me?" The wrinkled one sort of shrugged.

"He said that you needed him for something. He said that he loved you and hope you felt better and that he'd helped you." Ouch.

"He wasn't angry?"

"Nope, just sad. He said you were hurting inside." Buffy hugged herself and regained her composure, images of a beaten and bloody Spike running through her mind knowing she'd been the cause of it. Meanwhile Clem was becoming increasingly anxious.

"What's the matter?"

"It's almost four o'clock. He wakes up around four and I should be there."

"Spike? Oh god...this is where he's been hiding? Take me to him!"

"That's not such a good idea."

"Why not?"

"He probably wouldn't want you to see him when he first wakes up, it's pretty bad."

"I don't care."

"But I care. He's my best friend. Please?"

"I need to see him, Clem, it's important."

"Later, okay? I'll try and get him to come to the crypt."

"Alright," Buffy lied. Clem nodded and squeezed himself through the opening in the wall, picked up his bags and hurried away into the underground caves. She waited a minute and then followed.

 

Chapter 4 - Firebird

She heard Spike before she caught the glow of Clem's flashlight. There were no words, just plaintiff cries and moans and then the screaming."GET THEM OFF!! Get them off me!!" the vampire pleaded, his cries echoing all around her. Buffy moved quicker, coming to the end of the passage and finding Clem wrestling with a half naked Spike. She was horrified by what Clem's flashlight revealed. Spike was living in absolute squalor with a few articles of clothing strewn about and papers carpeting the floor. There was a threadbare blanket stuffed into one corner behind the pair.

"Come on old buddy, it's only a dream," Clem cajoled, encircling his flabby arms around the flailing vampire to hold him still.

"They're all over me!"

"Shhhh...you're fine now, back in Sunnydale. Take some deep breaths." Spike did as his friend asked, slowly calming down.

"Sunnydale?"

"Yep! Good for you. Took less time to snap out of it with this one."

"Sunnydale."

"That's right, Hellmouth, Slayer...."

"S..Slayer? Buffy. Buffy - is she hurt? I didn't hurt her again did I?"

"No, the Slayer's just fine."

"You've promised to stake me if I think to go see her again. You must do it." Clem wasn't sure how to reply, so instead he let his grasp around the vampire go and eased him back against the wall of the cave. He fetched the filthy old blanket off the ground and lay it over Spike.

"Okay, I brought fresh bandages so we can change yours. Got the paper and charcoal you wanted, oh, and batteries for the other flashlight."

"I wanted candles."

"Last time I brought candles you used them to burn yourself. I have some blood for you too. Want to see if you can keep some down this time?"

"What would be the point, I'd only bring it up again later. It was the scarabs this time. They'd gotten under m'skin, were eatin' m'parts."

"The scarabs aren't here anymore, they're gone now. Why don't you have something to drink, maybe you'd get a little nutrients from it first....before you get sick. If you want the truth you're gettin' kinda scrawny. Please? For me?" Granted Clem was no Helen of Troy, but who could resist that wrinkly sweet face? Clem passed him an old water bottle full of blood and the vampire took obliging sips. As his friend went to work on methodically tending to the numerous wounds, Spike relaxed and was gently humming a tune to himself.

"That's haunting...but cool."

"The Firebird."

"Is it old?"

"Igor Stravinsky, 1910. The lady played it for me. I wish I dreamt more of her and less of what happened in Africa."

"Tell me about her again."

"She plays her violin and I sit at her feet as an obedient dog. She smiles at me and touches my hair, but she never says a word."

"Sounds nice. Oh! That reminds me. Did you want to go up and take a shower in the locker rooms? I've got bleach and lots of packs of sweet n' low. Make you a little like your old self."

"He ought to have stayed dead, but William needs somewhere to live." Clem was becoming accustomed at distinguishing which of Spike's words were rational and which were not, so he continued on and ignored that last sentence.

"How's about later you come by the old crypt tonight. There's an A-TEAM marathon on TNN."

"She may walk about tonight, we must protect her from the sight of me, mustn't remind her of that night. The tiles were cold."

"You don't have to."

"May I lay down?"

"Sure, buddy." Spike huddled under his blanket while Clem busied himself with cleaning the space. Buffy snuck back when he came too near her hiding spot, depositing a stack of papers there. When he went back to Spike she took up the papers and ran back to the boiler room. When she was once again in her office she shut the door, sat down and cried.

 

Chapter 5 - Illustrations

It took a long time for Buffy to compose herself after seeing Spike in such a manic, pitiful state. Their abusive relationship may have ended on a unparalleled and violent low, but he'd done more than shown remorse, he'd won his soul as a direct result of his actions. It was obviously effecting him gravely. He had been her lover, experiencing more with him in one night than in a year with Riley Finn. He'd also done his best to be good because of her the whole time, she could acknowledge that now. This new Spike seemed innocent and tormented and it was breaking her heart. At least he had Clem with him. The mere thought of him living in those dark and dank caverns make her stomach turn. He'd always been so confident and proud. She didn't just care about his welfare, she had feelings for him. Still. Even after everything.

She finally hazarded to look at the papers she'd dared to snatch. The first sheet of heavy paper was charcoal sketch of a child, beautiful and bright with golden ringlets of hair. However, there was fear in her eyes and soot all over her cherubic face. Buffy had forgotten that he could draw. She flashed back briefly to when she'd found his shrine to her in the lower portion of his crypt. Quickly she flipped through as many as one hundred illustrations until she picked out the nine that were of her and two of Dawn. The ones of Dawn showed the teenager quiet and smiling, but the ones of herself told a deeper story.

One had her stretched out on the crypt floor over oriental rugs, sleeping nude, satiated from hours of sex with him. She looked like a goddess. Another made her cheeks flush upon seeing it, it was her face contorted at the very point of climax. Other sketches were less explicit, just her smiling, looking off in the distance. There was one in which a hand she recognized as his reached out and caressed her face. But the last almost made her cry again. She remembered her words,"Ask me again why I could never love you!" and now she knew what her face had looked like.

***

Surprisingly enough Dawn had dinner waiting for her when Buffy arrived home shortly after 5pm. It was fairly simple, Kraft dinner and garden salad, but it was appreciated. Buffy had stowed the drawings of herself in her bookbag, but put the others on top of the counter, including the ones of Dawn. She didn't want to leave them in her office for anyone to find and the other truth was that the renderings of herself flattered her, how much he revered her. No one, not even Angel, held her in his mind like such an object of beauty.

"Lots of filing n' stuff?" her sister asked, setting the pot on the island and spooning out heaps of cheesy pasta into bowls.

"I saw Spike again. He's living under the school."

"And?"

"I think he's in trouble."

"What kind of trouble? Kitten debt trouble?" Dawn was deliberately trying not to show too much concern, when in actuality she was as panged as her sister.

"He's been hurting himself more than I thought. Burning and more cutting. He wants to die and if he can't have that he wants pain. I wish I could help. I told him I forgave him but I don't think it's enough."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Did you ever love him?" Buffy looked down at the table and thought of those drawings."You haven't been out with anyone all summer and..."

"I don't know. I have feelings for him, they haven't gone away. I know what he really wanted from me, what I gave to Angel. I just couldn't. This is all my fault."

"No, it's not."

"But it's not Spike's either. I want to help him. Clem's going to get him to the crypt later."

"What are you going to do?"

"I wish I knew, I don't know if I can do anything to get him back to himself."

"Could you ask him something for me?"

"What's that?"

"If he wants, maybe he could come over and we could watch a movie or something."

"I don't think he's up for it, Dawnie."

"You think maybe he'd understand that I just mean it's okay to come and see me?"

"I'll tell him that. It's a start."

"Hey, what are these?" As they ate Dawn thumbed through Spike's drawings, taking time to absorb each one. Meanwhile Buffy recounted what she'd seen between Spike and Clem. Dawn found the ones of herself and set them aside to keep."Wow, he's amazing."

"I know."

"He had a sketchbook last year. When he stayed with me he would sit and work in it. He'd never let me see. I think he was drawing you. Who are these people?"

"His victims over the years, probably."

"Oh god, Buffy...I know her!" Dawn held up a picture and Buffy was godsmacked, it was the girl from her dream.

"How? How do you know her?!"

"We went to school together, we had art class. She disappeared last year, just as the Glory stuff was happening."

"Who is she?"

"Duh, Jane Westerberg, like the richest family in Sunnydale. Do you think Spike did something to her?"

"Last year? He had the chip and he was helping us, no, this is something else. Listen, thanks for making dinner, but I'm going to start patrol early."

"Going to talk to Spike?"

"Yes. I think we can help each other."

 

Chapter 6 - His Last Victim

After Spike had left for Africa, Clem had stayed in the crypt so no other demons would take up residence. When it seemed that it was unlikely that the vampire was returning, Clem moved in. Buffy knew that the tunnel exit in the lower part of the crypt likely connected to where Spike was hiding, so hopefully they would both already be there. She knocked before entering, a courtesy she'd adopted for visiting Clem. Opening the door she found a familiar scene. Mr. Wrinkles himself was sitting with a bowl of Chex mix in his lap watching the television, but Spike was no where to be seen. He turned and gave her a weak smile, setting his snacks aside.

"He wouldn't come, I'm sorry Slayer," he offered,"He didn't want me to stay either."

"He shouldn't be alone."

"I can't force him. He's too strong for me to drag here and he gets really upset if I stay too long." She came down the steps to the lower level, angling herself against a sarcophagus while Clem put the tv on mute.

"How long has he been like this? How long as he been back?"

"A few weeks. It was weird, I was just walking along minding my own business one night and there he was, just sitting on the curb talking to himself. I was all like, hey buddy long time no see...you don't write, you don't call ...and then he started crawling away. All the way back to the high school."

"And you've been looking after him ever since."

"He's my pal, even if he's not himself."

"You're a good friend."

"Well, it's Spike, you know? But I miss my friend. It's like this...look at the A-TEAM..." Clem pointed to the television,"Spike was always like Hannibal, confident, had a plan and purpose. Or he was B.A. all action and muscle. With you he tried to be Face, sweet and charming...but now he's just Murdoch. But the others all take care of him...so I'll take care of Spike."

"He's back at the school?"

"As far as I know."

"Wasn't there a girl on the show?"

"Oh, only towards the end."

"But she took care of them too?"

"Yeah, she did." Clem smiled, realizing she was making herself a part of the metaphor. Maybe his friend would be okay afterall.

***

Luckily Buffy passed the locker rooms as she was making her way through the dark halls of the high school. Getting inside the school had been a breeze, being there alone at night gave her a odd sense of nostalgia, especially considering Spike was there too. She heard the water of a shower running and as she walked parallel to the rows of lockers she heard his voice."Eight hundred, ninety two. Eight hundred, ninety three...." He continued counting as she turned the corner to where the showers were located. Her breath caught in her throat when she came upon him and she needed to hold herself upright against the wall to keep herself from collapsing."Nine hundred, four..." He sat naked under a spray of water, cold water as there was no steam, with an exacto blade stolen from the art room in one hand. With each count he slid the blade through his skin, opening up his skin and making himself bleed. He'd began on his leg, but had by now moved to his arm. He sat on the tiles in the pinkish water concentrating very hard on his work.

Acting on instinct, Buffy launched herself at him, grabbing the knife from his hand and throwing it away."NO! If I lose count I must start over..."

"This ends now, do you hear me? SPIKE!" He looked up at her, herself getting drenched under the cold water. Not taking her eyes from him, she reached over and turned off the shower and suddenly everything was very quiet. When she heard the sound of heavy breathing it took her a moment to realize that it was coming from her. Mindlessly she pushed her wet hair from her face and let the adrenaline dissipate. She reached out to touch him and he scurried away,"I'm not going to hurt you. You're doing a pretty good job of it yourself."

"Made...made good progress today, could've had it done by morning...but now I have to start over again. The cuts heal too...too fast and I lose count. One hundred and forty five minus twenty two, times three hundred and sixty five equals forty four thousand eight hundred and forty five....that's the closest I could get, can't remember everyone, can't remember."

"Who?"

"Hurt forty four thousand eight hundred and forty five since London alley 1880. Numbers are perfect things, it's not their fault that I can't remember precisely how many, so it will have to be forty four thousand eight hundred and forty five. Plus one."

"Me?"

"You."

 

Chapter 7 - Intervention

"Um...okay, we need a plan here. Let's get you dried off first and find you some clothes." She rose to her feet and looked around for towels, finding a stack of them by some sports equipment. Suddenly realizing his nudity before her Spike became highly agitated, covering himself with his hands in fretful modesty when she came near,"It's alright, it's not like I haven't seen it before."

"It's a nasty ugly worm, it should be taken off and put back in the ground."

"No, it's not. I don't think it's nasty or ugly. I'm going to help you, so just let me. Stand up." His first attempt failed when he slipped on the tile, cracking his knee when he stumbled, but on the second go he managed to get himself upright, though he showed her his back. Coming up behind him she reached around and wrapped the towel around his waist and secured it for him. She put another one around his shoulders and another over his head. He looked like a ridiculous wayward sheik, but she doubted highly that he could reason beyond the tip of his nose. Perhaps it was the cold from the shower or his vampire healing qualities, but the blood flow out of his wounds had already ceased. She toweled off her own hair and searched about for his clothes, finding the remnants of them, having obviously been cut off before he'd started in on his flesh. Delving into some innocent student's locker she found a pair of cargo pants and a white tank top that appeared to be clean."Put these on."

"Don't look." He reached behind him and he passed her the clothes.

"I won't, promise. I'll turn around." A few moments later a hand tapped her shoulder. She turned to see him and for a brief second she thought she'd seen him like this before, but quickly shrugged it off. His head was down and he clasped his hands in front of him. She helped him into his boots, the same ones he'd had for years, though they looked mighty weathered."Where can we take you?" He was about to answer when she held up a hand to silence him,"And don't tell me anything about hell, the basement, underground, under my shoes or on top of a cliff so you can wait for the sun to rise, somewhere practical please."

"7-11."

"Huh?"

"I'm hungry."

"You're hungry...I don't think they've got blood at the 7-11."

"Want nachos n' cheese." She smiled and put her hand to his back to lead him out of the locker room.

"Not just loony, a little bit odd too?" There was a definite innocence to the smile she received in return, like a small child's. It then occurred to her where she'd seen this, once again it was from her dream.

***

She'd told him to wait on the curb whilst she went inside the store for his food and she let out a sigh of relief when he was still there. Sitting down beside him, they munched in silence on gooey nachos covered in black olives and jalepenos. He seemed very content and grateful for the food. Intervention therapy at the 7-11.

"Spike, if I ask you questions do you think you can answer?" He circled his finger in the deep well of melted cheeze whiz at the bottom of the cardboard bowl,"Spike?"

"Anything you ask of me," he whispered, still hypnotized by his finger submerged in goo.

"Why have you been hurting yourself? Why the cutting?" He stopped his actions and wiped his finger clean with a napkin.

"S'what I deserve."

"Why is this what you deserve?"

"I've killed, I've hurt...so much blood. I'll never come clean, so I offer up my own in supplication, hope there'll be enough."

"There'll never be enough Spike, you know that. Nothing you'll ever do will take back over a century of killing." Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, then slide effortlessly down his gaunt cheeks."But that doesn't mean what you're doing to yourself is the answer."

"I have no answers, I ask the questions, but they all come back at once and I can't hear anything...too much noise." He started boxing his own ears and Buffy quickly brought his hands down and held them.

"You said you'd anything I asked of you?"

"Yes."

"Then promise me you will stop hurting yourself."

"But..."

"Promise me."

"I...I promise." He pulled his hands away from her and covered his head, cowering against his knees."Should never have come back....should never of come back."

"Why did you?" Suddenly, going from one hemisphere of thinking to another he spun around to face her, landing on his hands and knees and with eyes wide and manic.

"Because of what I did! How could I let that be our last memory?! Even if you kill me, anything would be better than that cold bathroom floor! How could I let it end like that? I had to come back, don't you see? I had to.....to ask, to beg, for forgiveness." He sat back, crying silently. Buffy got to her feet and stalked over to him, pulling him up and throwing her arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He stood rigid and petrified.

"It's a hug you big idiot, if you tense up anymore your head's going to explode....and no, before you even dare have the thought, you don't deserve to have your head explode."

 

Chapter 8 - Lost

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered, his voice breaking, his body relaxing.

"I know." She hid her face against his chest and let the tears she needed for him to see come."I did trust you to never hurt me like that and you did. That was possibly the worst night of my life that I can remember and I know it was for you too. How could we have let it get so bad?"

"I thought it was love. I tried to cut it out, I tried, honest. Just couldn't get deep enough." Sniffling, Buffy pulled away and looked at the streaks of healing red cuts that streamed out under the white tank top.

"Trying to cut your soul isn't the answer."

"Tried to get the demon out, give William back his body....but it's dead...so where would we go? I can't do this Buffy, they fight....steering perception, inviting contradiction..." He started backing away,"It's my insistence, you keep your distance! Leave now!"

"I rather stay, don't you go either."

"Machinery's broken, no directions for re-assembly."

"Spike you're not broken, just a little lost."

"Sowed destructive seeds, scavengers coming to feed. Nails into my head, nails into my head. Damaged, damaged, damaged." He'd now taken to pounding his clenched fist against his temple,"Damned, damned, damned." Buffy stopped his beating upon himself and looked into his liquid eyes, tears streaming down her own face. Patrons of the corner store were studying them.

"Come on..."

"To-morrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time - And all our yesterdays have lighted fools...The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage....And then is heard no more: it is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. "

"God, Spike honey, you really are depressed."

***

As could be expected the sight of her home on Revello had him upset. It had him talking to himself, but too low and introverted for her to understand. Threading her fingers with his she pulled his reluctant person down her driveway and up the steps to the front door."I didn't get the chance to tell you yet, Dawn wanted you to come and see her. I think she's ready for you two to make up. She knows what happened between us, all of it."

"Children should be spared such scars. They'll never be on my nibblet."

"As she'll tell you, she's not a child. She and I have talked it out so you don't have to worry." They came inside to the darkened house to find Dawn asleep on the couch with the television on. Her homework was splayed out over the coffee table along with snacks and empty pop cans. Spike parted from Buffy and went to walk to the teenager, but stopped suddenly and fisted his hands into his hair, holding in a cry.

"Can't do this....don't belong here." Moving rapidly, he pushed past the Slayer and out the front door. Immediately he started running away. Buffy had no hope of stopping him, nor catching up, he was already out of sight. She was caught between going after him and letting be alone to calm down. He was in abject torment and she wanted to stop his pain and hoped the process could bring them closure on the past.

"Hey, you're home. How was patrol?" Dawn inquired, stretching out. The younger sister saw how upset the other was and changed her tone,"Did you find Spike?"

"I did. He was sitting naked under a cold shower in the boy's locker room cutting into his body with a knife." Buffy spat out the words in frustration.

"Did you do anything?"

"Of course I did something! I got him as far as the living room, but he saw you and got spooked."

"He was scared of me?"

"No, of himself around you. I think he was trying to spare you. He knows he's not well and it hurts him. It's like he's trapped down a dark hole and can't get out no matter how hard he tries. But whenever someone tries to help him out of it he refuses because he's afraid he'll pull us in with him."

"Buffy, we need to help him."

"How? I don't think therapy's gonna cut it. How can anyone possibly understand?"

"Angel does."

"I don't want Angle anywhere near Spike. Mister One Hundred Years of Brooding Torment would probably nuke Spike's psyche all together."

"Then what do you want to do?" Buffy was becoming increasingly frustrated, almost hysterical.

"I wish I knew! I wish....I wish....that this didn't hurt so much. I haven't had to think about him all summer. Why did he have to come back like this?! I can't yell at him, I can't hit him...I can't make him understand. Why did he have to hurt me...why does this hurt so much?" Dawn came over quickly and held her sister as she broke down. Dawn had an answer for her, but stayed silent. Buffy wasn't ready for the truth.

 

Chapter 9 - Past Life

The following day Buffy didn't have to go into work, therefore over breakfast she formulated a plan. The first order of the day had been a visit to the public library for research. To her surprise there were no records in the newspaper archives responding to a search for the disappearance of Jane Westerberg. There were mentions of her for her academic achievements as well as for her music. Jane was a prodigy with the violin and had prestigious orchestras from all over the world courting her even before she was sixteen. Her father John's family had been among the founders of Sunnydale and through the years had contributed to the construction of most of the town's churches and other sites of note such as hospitals and schools. He still lived in the area.

Lastly, Buffy discovered a few articles from seven years ago about the death of Mrs. Westerberg. Jane would have been only nine years old at the time. Mrs. Pauline Westerberg had been ill for some time and was under the care of a physician. A fall down a flight of stairs had broken the woman's neck. No foul play had been suspected as the young Jane had witnessed her mother trip and fall. There had been no one else in the house at the time.

Buffy's night before had been dreamless, she had barely slept at all in fact. The images of both Spike and Jane intermingled with each other were at the forefront of her mind. There was a connection between the three of them. Jane was calling her from somewhere for help, Spike was tormented and lost and within her reach and Jane was reaching for him too. Buffy reasoned that both she and Spike had been chosen to rescue this girl and the Slayer was bound and determined to see it done. Beside, she was a tried and true Scooby, she wouldn't resist a mystery.

***

The Westerberg estate left Buffy breathless. It was a Spanish Colonial styled house of a rich buttery yellow, a red tiled roof atop three stories surrounded by immaculate grounds. There was a gate barring the entrance to the long palm tree hedged driveway, but she found it was unlocked and without any security present. Leaving the SUV on the road, Buffy walked slowly up the sunlit path towards the house. The ideal scene before her faded when she noticed that all the drapes were drawn closed and the fountains in the garden were empty. There wasn't a soul about, no gardeners and certainly no residents outside. Coming the massive fronts doors Buffy knocked. After a while when no one answered she apprehensively but firmly used the lion head knocker to make her presence known.

She thought she heard sound on the other side just second before the door was hauled open and a large rottweiler lunged for her with jaws snapping. Buffy stumbled back, nearly falling over, terrified by the sudden attack. The dog however was leashed and being controlled from coming further than the doorway. A second figure made itself known, a tall man of perhaps fifty emerged, holding fast to the leather of the leash. He was well kept in earth colored slacks, smart leather shoes and a slate blue button down shirt. He had salt and pepper hair, dark gray eyes and Grecian features, rather handsome all told.

"You shouldn't be on the property, I don't tolerate trespassers," he announced, his dog still growling at Buffy. Wary of the animal, she kept back.

"Are you John Westerberg?"

"I am, what business is it of yours?"

"I'm sorry to be disturbing you. My name is Buffy Summers, I just need a few minutes of your time, please?"

"In case you cannot tell there's nothing you can try to sell me that I probably don't already own. If I don't have it that means I don't want it. Kindly leave."

"I'm not here to sell you anything. I'm here about your daughter." The man's demeanor went quickly from annoyed to stone cold angry.

"Get out of here now! Jane is no business of yours!"

"Please, please let me explain. I think she's in danger..."

"How can you possibly know such a thing?"

"This might be difficult to believe, but I've been having dreams about Jane, dreams where she's begging me to help her."

"More like impossible to believe. I don't know what you're playing at here Miss Summers, but it ends now. I can promise you that I can make you regret this..."

"I'm serious, okay? I don't want money or anything else like that. I've had prophetic dreams before. She's calling out to me to help her."

"Calling? That's not possible."

"No, not exactly, I can't hear her voice, but she's begging me. I can't let this go. I can only imagine how hard it must've been for you since her disappearance..."

"Disappearance? Yes, I suppose that's what you could call it. I know precisely where my daughter is."

"What?!"

"Jane isn't missing, she's been in the same place for over a year now."

"But..."

"She is perfectly safe and sound. Your deception has failed. If you don't leave now I will have the police remove you. Good day." He went to slam the door, pulling the dog back, but Buffy stopped him with her Slayer strength holding the door open.

"Please tell me where Jane is."

"I won't have you disturbing her."

"Is she dead?" He tensed, a creeping sadness overwhelming him.

"Might as well be."

"I promise I won't do anything that will upset you anymore. I need this, please." Buffy's last plea broke through his resolve when he saw the sincerity in her eyes.

"Fernridge Institute." With that he closed the door.

 

Chapter 10 - Reaching

Buffy spent the latter part of the day before Dawn got home from school online tracking down information on the Fernridge institute. It was a mental hospital, established in 1932 and presently under the directions of one Dr. D. Thaddeus. It was situated in a fairly remote location an hour inland from Sunnydale. The situation had Buffy puzzled and the only way to collect more clues to the enigma was to drive out to the place once Dawn had come home from school.

The teenager walked through the door an hour later with a garbage back in her hands."What's all this?" Buffy asked.

"First promise you won't be mad," Dawn replied, trying to put on an aire of innocence.

"I'm thinkin' I already am. Answer the question."

"Spike's stuff, from under the school."

"You went into the caves?! It's dangerous down there. You could have gotten hurt! Or lost!"

"I'm sorry Buffy, but was worried about him. He wasn't even there."

"No?"

"I called for him, told him I was glad he was home, but there was no answer. His stuff, mostly clothes were all over the place, everything's dirty. I'm gonna clean them for him."

"That's really good of you Dawn, I know he'd appreciate it, if he could I mean. No sign of him?"

"I'm sure. Where do you suppose he is?"

"I wish I knew. If Willow...or...or...Tara was here we could do a spell."

"I could try. I've done some small ones before. Tara was teaching me."

"You think you can?"

"Absolutely."

"Good, then once..." The phone rang and Buffy picked up the receiver. The information was imparted to her in ten seconds and she hung it back up."That was Clem, calling from a pay phone, Spike just showed up at the crypt."

***

Buffy ran to the cemetery, her conscious unaware of just how desperate she was to reach him. She burst through the crypt doors just like she used to. Clem, the poor dear, nearly jumped out of his saggy skin and as ever, spilled his snacks on the floor."Oh! Sorry!" she apologized.

"It's okay, I'm getting used to it."

"Where's Spike?"

"Over there." Clem pointed to the kitchen area. In a shadowy corner he crouched, rocking gently, bumping his head against the wall. His eyes were closed and his lips moved as if he were trying to work out a complicated mathematical problem in his head,"He came through the sewers about half an hour ago. He cried for a little while, he's had a really bad nightmare, he called them the Twins. I don't know what it meant. Then he crawled over there and got quiet."

"Thank you for calling me."

"You're welcome. Help him if you can." Buffy was stunned when Clem pulled his trembling lower lip into his mouth to try to stop himself from getting emotional, he turned away quickly."Excuse me."

She approached the vampire very slowly hoping not to startle him. She sat down cross legged in front of Spike, lightly touching his knee. He came out of his trance and looked up at her with bloodshot, watery eyes."Hey," she spoke soothingly.

"I never meant to hurt you," he whispered in a meek little boy voice.

"Shhh...it's okay, it's all in the past, I know you didn't mean to."

"I don't know how to make it right. Too many voices, voices from the dark. They try to pull me through a needle's eye, like I'm an unraveled thread. It won't work, I don't fit, don't fit anywhere, but they keep pulling and it hurts, Buffy. It hurts so much. Mother always took care of us. She'd give us tea with honey, biscuits with creams. She'd kiss my temple, she was so soft, tell me she was proud I was her son, that she loved me no matter what. Mother was waiting for me, she insisted I attended the party, maybe Miss Cecily Addams would be there, she said. I could read her my poems and surely she'd be flattered. William, you're nothing to me, you're beneath me ..." He let out a high pitched hysterical giggle,"William the Bloody Awful Poet, skipping down the lane. Good boy? Bad boy? All the sodding same! Is mother still waiting? I wonder. If you see her, tell her I'm sorry I never came home. Number 117 Gloucester Place. Would she still love me now what I'm an abomination? No....no she wouldn't. There will be no more love for William."

"Your mother will never stop loving you. I promise."

"I don't know what happened to her. After Dru took me, I never went back - couldn't let Angelus ever know about her, he'd have done evil, vile things to her. I never wanted to be like him...but I..."

"You're nothing like Angelus." She said it with such conviction that he didn't question her. Having weathered this latest crisis of psyche, Buffy decided to give him something to reach for, helping her to find Jane Westerberg,"Why don't you sit down and get comfy?" Awkwardly he moved his legs out from under him and slumped to the floor. Both were apprehensive when Buffy took his hand in her's, but they each welcomed the kind touch. Buffy likened the moment to when he'd patted her back that night on her porch when she found out about her mother's brain tumor.

"Clem told me you've been having dreams about a lady." He nodded. Buffy reached into her coat pocket and brought out the folded drawing he'd done of Jane and passed it to him. He smiled when he opened it and looked upon it."Is this her?"

"Yes."

"Her name is Jane, she's the same age as Dawn. I've been dreaming about her too."

"She plays music for me, does she for you?"

"No, in my dreams she's trapped somewhere and she's asking me to help her." Spike looked horrified."I found out where she is and I'd like us to go there tonight."

"Me?"

"Yes, I want us to go together. I think this is something we're supposed to do."

"Is someone hurting the lady?"

"I don't know."

"We must help!"

"We will."

"The only time it doesn't hurt is when she plays her music."

"Does it hurt when I hold your hand?"

"Yes....but please don't let go."

 

Chapter 11 - Commitment

Spike slept in the passenger's seat next to Buffy as she drove them out to Fernridge Institute. Buffy had already shared her plans with Dawn, so she wouldn't worry if Buffy was late. One unique piece of information Dawn had shared, which helped explain part of John Westerberg's hostility, was that Jane was a mute. No wonder she was silent in Buffy's dream. Fernridge was indeed remote, the only sign of life along a one hundred mile two lane highway. She could see the building's roof from the road, it was set deep in a nesting forest, but the property was encased behind a ten foot stone wall. There were no gates and the entrance was highlighted with a stone carved sign above an archway.

Passing through to the driveway, Buffy was met by almost spectral looking trees, mostly ash and very old. Coming to the end of the road Buffy nearly laughed at the stereotypical old manor. Surely it at once been someone's home. The mansion was three stories tall and though not colored white she thought it belonged in Gone with the Wind . There were no cars to be seen anywhere near the entrance so she pulled the SUV off to one side. As soon as she turned off the ignition Spike awoke with a jolt, mindlessly clawing at his surroundings.

"Hey, hey, calm down," she soothed, unhooking his seatbelt and letting him move freely.

"Where are the walls? When I open my eyes there should be walls, no air, no light. I'm supposed to be in the box. Buffy?"

"Yeah, it's me. We're here to look for Jane remember?"

"I remember."

"Okay. Now do me a favor, don't say anything, let me do all the talking."

"Quiet as a dormouse. I'll behave, don't want the the cane...strap, paddle, fist."

"There is no cane, Spike."

***

The first impression of the institute's interior was that though it was large, it was welcoming and offering solace. Leather couches lined the entrance, there was plant life in large pots and paintings on the walls. Spike held on the back of her coat like a child in a crowd, shivering slightly, still wearing only a white tank top and thin cargos. She admonished herself for not thinking to at least find him something warmer. There wasn't a spec of dust around, not even on the Corinthian wall sconces of carved cherry wood. The floors were marble and even in soft shoes, the pair made enough noise for an echo. A grandfather clock began chiming somewhere and Spike let out a small yelp and moved away from Buffy against the wall. It was 6pm and suddenly the doors on either side of the lounge burst opened and dozens of people filled the room. The Slayer moved herself in front of the vampire to prevent anyone from touching or upsetting him.

Patients in pajamas and robes, nurses in crisply pressed white uniforms and dark green cardigans, doctors in suits and lab coats all moved about in a melee as they transferred themselves from one room to another. After a few minutes of activity, the doors were closed up again and the silence returned. Standing solitary before them was an African American man of middle age, holding a clipboard against his double breasted suit jacket.

"Are you the arrivals from Sunnydale?" he inquired, checking over his chart,"You're an hour late."

"No, um, no..." Buffy stammered, still a little off from the scene they'd just witnessed. Spike began nervously tearing at the fronds of a fern and Buffy grabbed his hands and held them behind her back to prevent him from continuing.

"Then why are you here?"

"To visit someone."

"Ah...perhaps you're unaware, but our hospital does not permit visitors at such a late hour. I'm afraid you'll have to wait until morning, it's dinner time presently and we don't encourage deviation from routine."

"Please, we've come a very long way."

"Dr. J. Hamilton to Ward Seven. Dr. J. Hamilton to Ward Seven ," a woman's voice called over an intercom, her voice seeming as if it seeped from the walls.

"Excuse me, I'm needed." Without a second glance he was off up the stairs at the end of the foyer.

"Well, that went over like the proverbial lead balloon," Buffy grumbled. She fought for balance when Spike suddenly dropped his head on her shoulder and leaned into her,"Spike...what are you doing?"

"Sleep now."

"Spike, now's really not the time, besides you just woke up...we need to check this place out."

"Vanilla, berries and Jasmine...you're so lovely." She closed her eyes, her fingers tightening around his hands, but only for a moment and she pulled away, letting go.

"Jane needs our help." He came out of his daze, holding his hands out.

"Make it quick. Twelve lashes, sharp and fast, that's how Headmaster, Sir, always did it." She softened as he looked away, tilting his gaze upwards in anticipation of a beating. She took his hands again and sighed.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"Don't understand...you don't want the other, if you don't want me , it must be the first, the pains. I don't understand Buffy. Hurt me so I understand what you want from me."

"I just want your help in finding Jane. Would it be better for you to wait in the car?"

"Pardon me?" a woman's voice called from beside them. Both turned to see the woman, she was very tall and broad, handsome, but certainly not beautiful. She stood perfectly erect with a old 1950s style nurse's bonnet atop her head and orthopedic shoes on her feet. Her hair was so tight on her head it pulled the skin on her face even more taut."Do you belong here?"

"YES!" Spike shouted out, surprising both the nurse and Buffy.

"Are you the new arrival from Sunnydale?"

"That's me...yes, un uh...sign me up, where's m' straight jackey?"

"Are you responsible for this man Miss?"

"Yes, I guess so...listen there's been a mistake," Buffy answered.

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of him here, we're very dedicated, the staff is highly trained. Now, there will be forms to fill out before his medical records have been transferred. Why don't we start with your name..."

"Randy!" Spike blurted out. Buffy pinched the bridge of her nose, she wasn't sure she wanted things to go this way, but it was too late.

"Hello Randy, I'm Nurse Beckett. What's your full name Randy?"

"It's Randall Giles," Buffy answered for him.

"Do you have any bags? We can get you settled into a room."

"We didn't bring anything with us, it was all kind of sudden."

"I understand, that is often the way. And your name miss?"

"Buffy Summers."

"And your relation to Randall?"

"Friend...his er, father is in England, he doesn't have any other family."

"Alright if you'll both follow me..." Nurse Beckett trotted off towards an office, while Spike and Buffy lagged behind.

"Are you out of your mind?!" She asked him.

"Mostly. I will find the lady for you, promise. Go back home to the lil' bit tonight, ol' Spike'll be fine, Slayer."

 

Chapter 12 - Windows to the Soul

Buffy told a very colorful tale to Nurse Beckett. Randy had delusions of being a vampire, Randy drank pig's blood, Randy was terrified of sunlight, and so on and so forth. Spike of course lapped up the spun fantasy, given his over enthusiasm to do good here as well as the fact that it was all true. He was escorted away from her by two burly orderlies, he'd looked over his shoulder at her and she'd seen the fear in his eyes, he didn't want to be here in the least. This charade was all to please her and definitely not for want to be back in her bed, he just wanted to do good. The guilt was not welcome. She promised him she'd be back first thing in the morning.

Spike had a mantra repeated over and over in his fractured mind, Lady Jane, Lady Jane, Lady Jane, find the girl, help Buffy . He focused on the mission, ignored the orderlies pushing him down the upstairs hallway, ignored their questions and when they mocked him. He was shoved into a small bedroom, a towel and other toiletries tossed in with him. They left the door unlocked, but when it was shut and he was alone, he simply cowered on the bed and tried to sleep.

***

There was a knock upon the door before Nurse Beckett came into the Doctor's study. He sat in his Victorian chair surrounded by books and antiquities from all over the world. A Tiffany lamp illuminated the documents he was perusing, wireframe glasses making his eyes appear larger than they were."Dr. Thaddeus, the new patient from Sunnydale has arrived," she informed, quite pleased with herself.

"Excellent. He's late, though, but then these types are never very predictable. Has the girl left?"

"Yes, but she's coming back first thing in the morning."

"Ah, well, then we'll just wait until she's gone tomorrow. Thank you, Nurse Beckett, you can leave now."

"Yes Doctor." Reclining back in his chair, the doctor stretched his arm out to his side, and flicked over the knight on the chess board situated atop a table.

"Excellent indeed."

***

"NURSE?! NURSE??!!!" a young man screamed.

"NO! I don't wanna take a bath!!" another cried.

"Ah! Ah! AH!!!" Was that a man? Or an animal?

"No, no, not helpful, hardly helpful. Where's our quiet?" Spike muttered to himself, the pillow from the bed over his head as he tried to block out the noise. He'd slept for many hours, but woke when the most recent nightmare reached its climax and he came to screaming like the poor souls on the other side of his door."I'll wait here for days longer...till she comes to wash my sins away. She is the lady that can ease my sorrow, that helps me find my way....must help the girl. Help the girl. Help the girl. Help my girl, help Buffy. Must wait, wait till quiet time. There's no sleep today, I can't pretend...all my dreams are crimes...can't stand facing them. No one will come to wash away my sins, fix my meals, be my friend. No cure now...it's stuck in here...they're both stuck...gotta pull it together, work together. Come on lads...gotta go see about a girl." He came out from under the covers, tossing the pillow back behind him as he rose to his feet."Right, Spike, this one's on you." He stalked to the door, yarded it open and was met by a man twice his size in girth and a good foot taller, dressed down with a robe over his shoulders. He glowered at Spike and the vampire slammed his door shut, sinking to the ground."Maybe later."

***

Later came close on 3am, when the institute was finally quiet."In the wooden chair beside my window I wear a face born in the falling rain. I talk to shadows from a lonely candle. Recite the phrases from the wall. I can't explain this...Holy pain...well, I probably could, but I just can't be bothered," Spike ruminated to the room,"Got a mission in mind, a purpose, got a lady to save...bloody hell - first time we've said bloody hell since we came together. How's it feel? Pretty good...." He opened his door to the dimly lit hallway, for the first time giving it a perusal. It was very similar to the downstairs, but lined with doors,"Alice down the rabbit hole then is it? Do you remember your lesson? Of course! Recite ! How doth the little busy bee...No, pillock, the other . 'You are old father William,' the young man cried,'The few locks which are left you are grey; You hale, father William, a hearty old man; Now tell me the reason I pray.'..should I go on? Quiet now, finding the girl. .."

He inched carefully down the corridors, peeking into rooms where the doors were unlocked, seeing other men like himself, but no sign of the lady. He slithered down the stairs on his tummy to the second floor like a serpent needling through blades of grass. He could tell this was where the women slept, perfumes and distinct scents permeated the air, it reminded him of the lingering scent of Buffy from earlier that evening. He was compelled to stand up straight like a proper gentleman, show the ladies his respect. Most of the rooms were locked from the inside, not bolted with locks on the outside like most of the rooms one flight up. A cool breeze tickled his ankles and sent shivers over his skin. It came from a room straight ahead, its door ajar. He slipped inside and closed the it behind him.

She sat in a chair at an open window, her white nightgown hardly warm enough. Spike retrieved a blanket from her bed and lay it over her before kneeling down to look up at her expressionless face and eyes that though were wide open, saw nothing."Knock knock little bird, tic tock...anyone home? The cuckoo's on the twelve, time to come out and play," he sing songed,"Are you in there, love? Are you...oh......no...no.......no......." When he looked into her eyes he saw inside her, saw what they'd done to her soul.

 

Chapter 13 - Inmate

By morning, Spike was back in his room, huddled under the thin quilt in a fetal position on the bed. The door to his room was opened and nurse Beckett came in followed by an orderly."Randall, it's morning. Time to get up.." She proclaimed, going to open his curtains.

"No! Keep them shut! Please!" Spike begged the moment he woke up.

"Oh yes, that's right, Miss Summers told me about your aversion to sunlight. It's alright this one time, but you know the sun can't really hurt you."

"Easy for you to say!"

"Perhaps so. You are scheduled for your first meeting with Dr. Hamilton in ten minutes. You may have a shower afterwards before breakfast. There will be fresh clothing provided, the same as all the other patients."

***

Buffy waited nervously in the foyer of the institute. Dawn was lounging on one of the couches, still grumbling about having to get up early on a Saturday morning. Visiting hours were from 9am-3pm and Buffy wanted to be there before nine. On the flipside, despite her minor complaints, it had been Dawn's idea to bring Spike things from home, all nicely packed in a knapsack.

"Miss Summers?" Nurse Beckett called, emerging from an office into the entrance hall,"Good morning."

"Hello again. This is my sister, Dawn. We'd like to see Randy."

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Excuse me? Why the hell not?"

"He's still in his morning session with the doctor."

"Oh...sorry..."

"I understand how apprehensive you were to leave Randall here last night. Would you like to wait in his room?"

"Yes, thanks." The Nurse led the Summers sisters up two flights of stairs to the men's ward. There was a distinctly uneasiness to the institution, but Buffy surmised it was the notion of displaced minds and poor souls separated from their families that bothered her. Spike was one of them now. Dawn carried the knapsack, but also gripped the back of Buffy's shirt, just as Spike had yesterday. His room consisted of one unmade bed against a wall in a space of 8'x8', a beside table with drawers, a lamp and a chair. It looked more like a cell than a bedroom.

"Is it just me," Dawn asked as she straightened the bed,"Or is this place giving off a serious Hammer Horror vibe? Like where's Christopher Lee hiding?"

"It's not you, definite wiggins." There was a hurried scuffling sound outside the door before it was opened and Spike dressed in ugly pale green pajamas stumbled into the room, barely managing to stay on his feet. Behind him Buffy heard two men laughing. Stepping into view the Slayer gave two oversized orderlies her most menacing glare, followed up by Dawn and her I'm a hair puller , just try me look .

"There was a ripple in the carpet, he tripped," one of them sputtered out as an explanation.

"Is there a law or something that they can only hire degenerate bullies to take care of patients?"

"We're highly trained professionals, ma'am."

"Professional whats? Stay away from Randy or else!" With that parting comment she slammed the door in their faces. Spike moved towards his bed, unnoticing of either of his visitors. He curled himself into a small ball, dark circles under his eyes, face gaunt and ashen.

"Have you ever thought that the night could be hungry? Like it wants to eat you up? The night devours you here..." he spoke aloud, just as his haunted eyes fell upon Buffy,"It's quiet, the place she has gone. Not like me, there's noise where I am....but she doesn't hear the noises, they've put her in a box."

"You found Jane?" He nodded, then pointed to the floor.

"Right below."

"Is she okay?"

'She is quiet, does not see, hear nor speak. No sleep for Jane, trapped in the box."

"What kind of box? Is she in a cage or something?"

"Tiny space, little star on the black sky, deep inside her head."

"Buffy," Dawn whispered at her sister's side,"Look at him." Buffy followed Dawn's line of sight to the darkened purple bruises on Spike's arms, he'd obviously been manhandled.

"Spike are you alright? Your arms..." Buffy inquired, sitting down on the bed with him, her fingers touching him lightly,"How did you get these bruises.

"It's nothing. Told them I didn't want their runny eggs and cold toast. Stupid wankers. Don't they know vampires need only blood?"

"So they hurt you?"

"Could'a had 'em in a fair fight...but can't, chip...and, and I knew you wouldn't like it. Have I done what you needed of me? Did I do well Buffy?"

"Yeah, Spike, you did good."

"Ah! Ah! In here it's Randy. Vampire with a soul, on a mission of redemption! Right Joan?" He sat up and gave her a wink and a smile.

"Right. Randy, you remember my sister Umad?" Finally he saw the other girl.

"Nibblet?" He was astonished to see her, even a little frightened.

"Hey," she replied, giving him a little wave,"Got a soul huh? How's that going?"

"Perpetual unbridled torment."

"Oh...um..." Unable to answer, she delved into the knapsack to show him what they'd brought from home,"Hungry? 'Cause we've got fresh piggy! That sounded less cute outside of my head." She brought out a thermos and handed it to him,"Eat up. It's warm."

"Thank you..." He gulped down the entire contents immediately, then gave Dawn a bright smile,"Don't know where the Chief's gotten to...hope he doesn't miss the fishing trip later. Care for some Juicy Fruit?"

"Uh....no thanks and you're welcome. We brought other stuff too, namely clean clothes...'cause those things you've got on right now are just...you look like a Gump...no offense." She also brought out her portable CD player and a selection of punk favorites, her book of Shakespearean sonnets, a sketchpad and pencils, and a photograph of her and Buffy. Lastly she pulled out what had taken up the bulk of the sack's space. It was a simple patchwork quilt. It was passed first to Buffy who in turn wrapped it around Spike's shoulders."We figured you wouldn't be so lonely if you had something from us...it used to be..."

"Joyce," he completed,"It still smells like her...her kindness. May I ask, why? Why all this for me?"

"Because we care and you here to help Jane," Buffy explained, she then leaned in to speak softly in his ear,"I told you I forgave you and I meant it. I care about you, William." He was beginning to crumble and she worried it might unravel him. Her fingers stroked his arm and he calmed,"What else can you tell about last night?" He pulled the blanket up around his ears and lay his head on Buffy's shoulder.

"There is evil here that does not sleep. I feel it in the walls, smell it in the air...something's coming."

 

Chapter 14 - The Chalice

Spike said nothing else that morning and fell asleep on Buffy's shoulder. They made him comfortable, and feeling a swell of emotion, Buffy kissed him. He licked his lips and continued sleeping. She'd made the decision to return that night after taking Dawn home, she wanted to see Jane Westerberg for herself, sneaking into the institution was a likely must. She was also not going to abandon Spike to some evil that does not sleep .

Coming down the stairs with Dawn in tow they were met in the foyer by Dr. Hamilton, from the previous night."Hello ladies, I'm Dr. Jacob Hamilton, I've taken over the case of Mr. Randall Giles. I'd like to discuss it with you if I may."

"By all means, I have a few concerns myself," Buffy answered."Nurse Beckett said you had a meeting with him this morning?"

"We did indeed and frankly Miss, my conclusion is grave. Randall suffers from paranoid delusions, he hears voices and there's also the issue of self-mutilation. I'm surprised he hasn't been put under care sooner."

"He only got this way this past summer."

"Indeed, well, I can tell you, as you may know, that he has spun himself a very intricate web. He claims to be 145 years old and a vampire. He divulged to me carefully crafted tales of his life in London, his time with three other 'vampires' named Angelus, Darla and Drusilla...we only got as far as the early 20th century. I'm recommending to the State that Randall be given indefinite institutionalization, a full course of medications to stabilize him, and daily therapy sessions. We'll also be weaning him of his apparent taste for blood, gradually exposing him to sunlight..."

"God, no! Doctor...the sun..he's, he's terrified of it. It really does burn him...it's that disease..."

’’Xeroderma Pigmentosum?"

"Yes! That's it. Doctor, don't rush him."

"The sooner we begin treatment, the sooner he can be cured."

"Just wait, please, let him get comfortable..." The doctor sighed and nodded.

"We'll wait a few days, let him get settled in. I presumed you'll be visiting again tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you then. I will however be giving him sedatives at night to help him sleep. The details he shared with me of his nightmares are, to be honest the most horrific I've heard of in all my years of practice. Whatever trauma this poor boy has been through I'm amazed he hasn't induced himself into catatonia just to escape." Shaking his head, the doctor left them. Dawn was frightened, as was Buffy, as long as Spike stayed here he was in danger.

***

It was late afternoon when the vampire came out of his restful slumber. He realized for once, he hadn't had a nightmare . It had been a dreamless sleep, a contented sleep. There were other placating realizations. He inhaled deeply, the combined scents of Buffy, Dawn and Joyce were wrapped around him, comforting him. Buffy's kiss lingered on his lips, her sweet taste more nourishing that the blood they'd brought him. He picked up the unframed photograph and held it to his chest, snuggling under Joyce's quilt.

He also knew however that all was no going well for him, very little in fact. With Buffy's true forgiveness of him he could dies a blessed man. However death was not an option, nor was inaction, if he could rescue Jane he'd allow himself to believe his own redemption possible. He sat quietly on the bed admiring the photograph of his girls and would do so until all was quiet again and he could carry out his plan.

***

It was almost 5pm and Buffy was preparing to return to the Fernridge Institute. She'd changed into black clothing complete with her favorite kicking boots, which where also perfect for concealing weapons. Dawn watched with a heavy heart as her sister rummaged through her weapons chest. Spike wasn't Spike anymore. With his soul restored he was like a child, innocent and frightened, looking to be protected. He was submerged under the burden of guilt from a century of murders. Dawn thought somehow that the three unfortunate minutes in the bathroom with Buffy tore him apart more than all the other crimes combined. Dawn had worked through her anger at her once best friend, threatening all summer that the first time she saw him she was going to stake him. Now she just wanted him home and safe.

There came an unexpected and desperate knock to the front door. The sisters exchanged perplexed looks and Buffy went to answer it. She found Clem waiting on the other side looking rather worse for wear."Clem?" Buffy questioned.

"Something's happened to him!" the wrinkly demon blurt out,"I've looked everywhere! If I'm not there when he wakes up he goes into terrible fits, he hurts himself..."

"Clem, it's okay. I know where Spike is." Clem nearly passed out with relief,"Something strange is happening and Spike is helping me."

"Oh...oh...well I guess it's okay then. Helping you makes him happy, but where is he?"

"There's a mental institution an hour's drive from here, out in the middle of nowhere...there are these ash trees..."

"OH MY GOD! You left Spike at the Gaudium Chalice?!?!?!"

"The what?!"

 

Chapter 15 - Belly of the Beast

"Omigod...omigod...omigod...." Clem stammered.

"Clem you're scaring me! What is the Gaudium Chalice?!"

"Uh..."

"CLEMENT!!" She grabbed him by his jacket and hauled him inside the house.

"Okay! Okay! Think of it as the Hellmouth's little sister...a mini mouth."

"There's another Hellmouth?! How come I don't know about this?"

"I dunno, how do you know usually?"

"Spike told me all the local demony stuff when he found it out."

"It's kinda just an old local legend, like a haunted house. Spike didn't grow up in Sunnydale like me, so he probably never heard of it."

"So tell us this legend already," Dawn insisted,"Is Spike in danger?"

"Oh, totally....sorry. In the 1920s there was this cult, made up of humans and demons who worshipped The Gaud. They tried to resurrect it, but the Slayer at the time came to town and stopped them. The breach between this world and hell wasn't sealed completely so they built the house over it. If you go down into the basement you could probably find the opening."

"If I had any idea...." Buffy breathed,"I never would have left him there, never. Clem, what did the Gaud worshippers do besides try to raise up the demon?"

"Um, mostly blood rituals, virgin sacrifces...oh...oh no...s...soul harvesting. They took people's souls. Spike's soul!!"

"Baby, don't let them get my soul, I got it for you..."

***

He'd refused to go down to dinner and when the orderlies insisted he'd fought against them with all his might from being dragged from his room. Naturally as they were only human, the vampire's strength won out. But that didn't stop them from beating upon the patient who wouldn't fight back. After sufficiently busting up his face and cracking his ribs they'd left him on the floor of his room moaning in pain.

Shortly after he got himself up, mentally pushing aside the pain. They'd locked him in his room, but he'd easily be able to break out. He took off his clothes and changed into a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. He felt ready for battle. He folded Joyce's quilt and slung it over his arm and put the picture of Dawn and Buffy in his back pocket. He listened at the door to make certain no one was in the hall before breaking the door knob and pushing off the bolt that held him in. He moved amazingly quick, tuning in with his demon's physical attributes. He'd find the lady again and take her from this horrible place. Spike was certain, despite evidence to the contrary, that he was being watched. He dared not touch the walls for fear they'd come alive and devour him.

Jane was precisely the same as the previous night. Still innocent and silent, sitting as a queen upon a throne."G'evenin' m'lady, shall we go walk about in your garden?" He'd put on his best gentlemanly aire. He rolled out Joyce's quilt on the bed, not concerned with noticing how finely decorated the room was and that she had quilts of her own. He effortlessly lifted her out of her chair, she was as light as a ghost. He wrapped her up snugly before scooping her up in his arms,"Not to worry, pet, you'll be safe now that Spike's got you." They exited the room and he took off in a run. He thought he'd get her back to his room and leap out the window, unfortunately in his desperation to rescue the firl he chose a poor time in which to get it done.

Someone must have been watching him. Possibly as many as twelve staff members were storming up the stairs. He made to run, but he was tackled from behind by another who'd come out of a bedroom. Jane tumbled from his arms when the orderlies descended upon him and Spike felt his instincts flare and he demon come alive. The five or so men who were trying to pin him down were thrown off and the vampire in full game face raged before them. One of the men that had beat him earlier stepped up to the challenge and Spike smashed his face in with his fist. For a split second he felt triumphant and vindicated and the the chip fired in his skull. He howled in ungodly pain, arching back and into the the wall.

From then on the remembered being thrown on the ground and bodily restrained. New points of pain burned as needle after needle was jabbed into his arms and neck, injecting him full of unknown substances. Briefly he caught a flash of of Nurse Beckett standing over him.

"I think this is a matter for Dr. Thaddeus," she announced.

 

Chapter 16 - To the Rescue

Clem reasoned that taking Spike's old DeSoto was a better vehicle to sneak up on Fernridge - with it being black. There was that, and the fact that Clem so much as told Buffy he was driving. Suddenly there were cultists, soul eaters, another gateway to hell and one relatively helpless, insane vampire with a soul trapped at their mercy. The Buffy Guilt Train had left the proverbial station.

Over the years the Slayer had run the gamut of allies, Spike included, but she'd never have predicted Clem. The wrinkle skinned demon was unassuming and good natured, Buffy doubted that besides the kitten thing that he had a malicious bone in his body. However she was rethinking that opinion as she watched him speed them to the Fernridge Institute. He looked resolute, perhaps also angry, definitely fearful for their mutual friend.

"Clem, can I ask you something?" Buffy spoke up, breaking the tension that permeated the air.

"Sure Slayer."

"When did you and Spike meet?"

"Oh, um, almost two years ago, I guess. It was at a poker game. He'd only been chipped a few months and was still adjusting. We didn't become real friends until after....after you died that one time. He needed someone to talk to and I'm a good listener, so there yah go."

"Did he ever talk about me?"

"You're pretty much all he ever talks about. No details or anything, just about how cool you'd taken down a vamp one night, or how pretty you looked, but sometimes he wouldn't talk at all. He'd be quiet for a long time, then just say something about how you were upset and he wasn't able to help. That's when he usually needed me to give him a pep talk. He has this inferiority complex."

"Can't say I've ever thought that about him."

"Compared to you it's got logic. You're the ultimate good and he was trying to live up to your standards, pretty impossible for a vampire - but he did his best you know?"

"Yeah, I know he does, and he never stops trying, never gives up."

"That's just Spike for you."

"Yeah, all for me..." Her voice trailed off and she felt unexpected tears welling up. Everything about Spike was all for her, and the knowledge of it was shattering her heart into a million pieces."Clement? I apologize for all the times you had to see my abuse of Spike. I'm sorry you've had to deal with my messes. I'm sorry I hurt your friend."

"The best you can do is to make sure Spike knows that. He loves you very much. I just want him to be happy. If you can make him happy, there's no need for apologies." Quickly Buffy leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek, making him blush furiously.

"Thank you for taking such good care of him...but I'd like to have that job now if I can."

"Absolutely."

***

Clem turned off the headlights and cut the engine before they reached the building, gently letting the car roll into an alcove made from the surrounding bushes. He and Buffy had devised a plan, he would check around the grounds while she went inside. It was a little after the nine at this point, hopefully things would be winding down for the evening and the patients would mostly be in their rooms, the staff heading home.

She avoided the front door and crawled in through an unlocked window. She found herself in the kitchen, it was cold and industrial, even more so than a cafeteria. She doubted they had a flowering onion on the menu. She couldn't hear anyone about outside the doors, so she stealthily snuck out and down the hallway. One way she could guess led to the foyer, the other lead to a set of stairs. It was a risk to climb them, knowing that if someone came up or down she'd be caught with nowhere to run or hide. If worse came to worse she'd just knock them out.

Her footfalls on the steps echoed and she cringed, but she was resolute to find her vampire and their young charge and get them the hell away. She'd worry about the whole Gaudium Chalice another time. After climbing one flight she found a door, surmising it must lead into the women's ward. She came eventually to another door, the floor Spike was on. The stairs continued on upwards, and her curiosity was piqued, but Spike was more important right now. She came on to the second floor ward at the end of the hallway, a long oriental rug laying before her down the hall towards a convergence point. It reminded her of a those perspective drawings of railway tracks. As she moved down the length, keeping mindful of where she remembered Spike's room to be. The occasional random yelp or cry from a patient behind a closed door made her halt for a moment. The sounds were disturbing.

She finally came to Spike's room and ducked inside quickly. She flipped on the light and turned, her mouth open and ready to speak, but she fell stone cold silent by what she saw. It was as if no one had ever been here. The bed was made with crisp hospital corners and military precision. The room smelled of disinfectant and other cleaning agents and it was immaculate. She felt her heart seize in her chest. This was very wrong.

She had to think fast, if any more time was wasted Clem would get worried and maybe do something stupid. Spike had said that Jane was right below, maybe he was with Jane again. She opened the door and then stopped short, coming face to face with the ominous Nurse Beckett.

 

Chapter 17 - Denied

"Miss Summers. This is unexpected ," Nurse Beckett said, her voice scratched with icicles. Buffy gasped, trying desperately to recover her composure from being taken by surprise.

"Ra...Randy. Where's Randy??" she sputtered, slowly grounding herself.

"I think the appropriate question at this time is why are you here? Visiting hours were closed a long time past, there is no reason for you to be in this room."

"This is Randy's room and I want to see him. Now." Buffy pulled herself up tall, hardening her demeanor and staring across at Nurse Beckett. The other woman didn't flinch.

"Randall is under observation at this time and cannot be seen by anyone who might deter him from his recovery."

"You tell me where he is or I'll bring this whole house down looking for him." Nurse Beckett gave a nod and then spun around on her heels and began marching down the hall. Bewildered and confused, Buffy followed quickly after. The Nurse ignored the Slayer and continued on walking at determined gate until she reached the main staircase and continued upwards. A few strides from the top of of the stairs Nurse Beckett stopped, knocking twice on a door and then opening it and leaving Buffy, returning to her duties.

The Slayer was certain she was ready for whatever was in the room, but she was not expecting to find what was laid out before her. The office reminded her very much of any space that Giles had occupied. Bookshelves laden with old volumes lined the walls. Artifacts, deities, obscure objects d'art and even a potted fern. Behind a black lacquer and cherrywood desk, complete with a Tiffany lamp, sat a small and studious looking older man."You're Randall's friend aren't you?" he asked, blinking his eyes in a rapid succession before moving his wireframe glasses and giving them a clean with his handkerchief."Pleased to meet you, I am Dr. Thaddeus."

"Buffy....Buffy Summers."

"I know who you are, Miss Summers, know quite a bit actually. Randall's spoke of you. Please sit down." Buffy moved inside the room, but chose not to sit down. The doctor paid it no mind."You are quite a fixation with him."

"We're kind of fixated on each other. I'd like to see him."

"He is under our care now, Miss Summers. Randall has taken a turn for the worst, there was an incident last night and we've had to move him to our intensive care." Buffy could feel the tension in her face, it took all over her control not to go ballistic.

"Where is he?"

"As I said, in our care. With all due respect, Miss, he signed himself in and as you're not a family member or his wife, we can dictate whether or not you get to visit. We feel that it is in Randall's best interest that he be alone at this time, alone to concentrate on his recovery. We care about Randy."

"No one cares more about him than I do."

"Irrelevant." Buffy turned quickly, the two orderlies who had beat up Spike appeared behind her."If you'll excuse me, I have paperwork."

"I'm not leaving this place until I see..." Dr. Thaddeus got to his feet, he looked fragile and emaciated, but none less devious.

"You have no legal standing in this matter. I suggest you do not return, especially unannounced and after hours."

"But..."

"Goodnight." One of the men was about to touch her, but she pushed it away with such force she sprained his wrist. He glared back at her. They followed her down the stairs, keeping their distance. Once she was outside and the institute had closed up its doors for the night, Buffy let out a fierce growl and landed her fist against a stone lion that sat out front of the house, splitting it. She gave herself a few moments to calm down, laying out her next course of action in her mind. Find Clem, regroup, break back in, find Spike, simple.

She heard a scream in the distance, then growls and snarls, and then the same person screamed again. Clem. Buffy dove into the thick of the forest, blindly weaving in and around trees and bushes, following the sounds of Clement's cries for help. She burst on to the scene of Clem with his back to a tree, holding out a club of wood, fending off three large hounds. They were massive, larger than mastiffs, with haunched shoulders and ragged black fur, eyes glowing like rubies and mouths lined in two rows of fangs. Buffy pulled out the six inch blade she had hidden in her boot and advanced cautiously.

She grabbed one by the scruff of the neck, pulled it back and slit its throat in one fluid motion, immediately drawing the attention of the other two."CLEM! RUN!" Buffy ordered. Scampering off like his feet were on fire, Clem made for the direction of the DeSoto. Buffy meanwhile was already slipping into her full on Slayer mode and reading herself for a fight. As the two beasts leapt for her, she dove and rolled under them to where Clem had been, picking up the branch he'd let fall. She knocked both across their skulls, stunning them enough to make a break for it herself.

The hell hounds were biting at her heels when she dove into the open passenger's side door of the moving vehicle, Clem back behind the wheel. He sped them down the driveway and away from Fernridge. Unfortunately, also away from Spike and Jane."Cer...Cerberus demons...hell dogs," Clem heaved,"There's probably more, they travel in large packs." Buffy put her head between her knees, trying to compose herself and come down from the adrenaline rush."We have to go back for Spike."

"I know."

"What are we going to do?!"

"I don't know."

"You're the Slayer, this is your job, come up with something!"

"I don't know! I can't think..."

"If you don't he's gonna die in there!"

"Clem, don't say that, he's not going to die. He's not..."

"We need help."

"Then I'll get us help."

"What kind of help?"

"My kind of help."

 

Chapter 18 - Enemy Revealed

Buffy found it interesting that the music from a single violin could encompass her entire existence. Just like Atlas could hold the world on his shoulders, the music held on to her soul, lifted her up. The atrium in which she sat in audience to Jane's solo concert was filled with glorious sunlight, everything was warm and bright. The air had a sweet freshness to it, fragrant like the flowers that surrounded them. There was an empty chair next to the one Buffy was seated in. It was the height of the day, but she was pleased to be wearing an evening gown of midnight blue, accented by randomly sewn on tear drop crystals.

"Effulgent, that is the word I would use to describe your beauty," he spoke. Buffy looked away from Jane and up at Spike standing at her side,"Your radiance astounds me, my love."

"You're being silly, and again with the defying of the vampness. It's sunny, Spike."

"I'm in love with you, I'll take the risk. I'm a good man, you know?"
 

"I'm learning." He took his seat next to her, dressed to match her in a dark suit.

"It all seems less complicated here doesn't it? Like all the bloody evils we face in the world have just shut themselves up so we can have this moment together. The music is what does it."

"I makes me forget that I'm the Slayer, that you're a vampire..." She reached over and took his hand in hers,"It's just you and me, together." The music played on, but Jane had put down her instrument and began to walk away, back into the main part of the house. Spike stood too, pulling Buffy up with him.

"Come, pet, it's time. Time to see what we've come here to see."

"What is it?"

"Just follow..." Wrapping her arm around Spike's, she was led from the atrium, through the conservatory and back into the house. Eventually they came to the foyer. Jane was nine years old again, perfectly innocent, unknowing of the dark descent she was soon to set to journey upon. The three of them waited at the bottom of the grand staircase.

"Spike?"

"Shhh, just wait, any second now..." He stepped inched closer to Buffy and away from Jane. The moment shifted and Buffy felt the pressure of the atmosphere around her compress. She clung to the vampire, sensing that he was equally as nervous."We have to see this, she needs us to see this. This is why she's been calling..."

There was a woman at the top of the stairs, a perfect copy of what Jane would no doubt be when she grew to adulthood."Jane, sweety," she called down to the child,"It's time for bed."

"Mommy?" Jane replied, her voice trembling with fear,"Mommy, who..." There were screams, loud, shrilling screams that could only come from women. The kind of screams that would make any man want to die. Buffy's scream was the first to die away, and then she was gone from the dream place. Spike remained, serving as second witness to Pauline Westerberg's murder. He observed, stoic, as the mother was pushed from behind. He didn't move as the woman flailed and reaching in vain to grab for the bannister or the carpet in an effort to stop her momentum. She rolled once, and then again, the second time her neck snapped like a tree branch in a wind storm and sounded just as sharp and loud. Pauline's screams were the second to cease. Her dead body staggered the rest of the way down.

Jane's scream was raw and primal, her eyes torturously focused upon the demon standing where her mother had been seconds before. The child's scream was the last sound her voice would ever make.

***

"Wakey, wakey, vampire," a voice summoned him. It oozed into Spike's ears like thin milk. It wasn't that the vampire had opened his as as he woke from his dream, his wide staring eyes had simply focused themselves. The obscenely bright fluorescent lights overhead stung his retinas, he was fixed on them. In the peripheral of his vision he could sense people moving about. The voice that had roused Spike from the nightmare began speaking again as he moved into view."I could smell the soul on you the moment you walked into the house." It was the same large liquid eyes and same lizard smile from in the dream - the same from on top of Glory's tower.

It was Doc.

***

Buffy was wakened by the sound of her own scream. She was still in the same spot in the living room where she'd fallen asleep after calling Giles. Her stomach felt like it was coiled in knots and she thought she might be sick. Jane's mother had been murdered by someone, though Buffy couldn't remember the face in the dream. However, there was also a more urgent panic overwhelming her,"Spike...." He was hers, the vampire, it didn't matter what her head told her about their past, he was hers. She knew he was scared, she knew he needed her, now .

 

Chapter 19 - The Innocent

"I must say, Mister vampire, you are unique among your kind. I've never forgotten your misguided and exceptionally pathetic heroics on top of that tower. Earning a soul, that's an original. I'm sure you must have a few well chosen phrases you'd like to impart to me?" Doc waited, just long enough for Spike to realize that he could neither move nor speak, that he was utterly paralyzed. He was unbound, laying on a bed in a white room. His clothes were gone and he'd been put into the bottoms of hospital pajamas. He was cold, hungry and scared.

"Is he awake Doctor Thaddeus?" Nurse Beckett asked.

"He's awake."

"How can you tell?"

"I know, it's a sense. I want him awake."

"I've never seen a real vampire before, is he dangerous?" Doc walked over to an IV bag that was suspended next to the immobilized vampire, the tube of which ended at the needle embedded in Spike's vein. He adjusted the drip, increasing the flow.

"No, as long as the medication runs constant he'll never move again, but he can hear us, see us."

"I wish we had some holy water, I've been meaning to practice my tole painting techniques and he is a lovely white canvas."

"Unfortunately we haven't much time left and many preparations to make. You two can play peek-a-boo with the sunshine and the curtain until I'm ready. The window over there has an eastern exposure, but whatever you do, be careful, I don't want him made into dust. I have plans for this one."

"Goody, goody..."

***
 

There would be time for welcome homes and catching up another day. Willow and Giles arrived at the Sunnydale airport late that afternoon. Buffy tried to behave very down to business, but ended up embracing the two prodigal Scoobies for almost ten minutes in he terminal. Mercifully Xander had come with her, barely understanding the full scope of the situation, but he had offered to drive. This left Buffy able to unburden herself of the week's past events with Jane and Spike.

During last night's hurried conversation on the phone with Giles, Buffy had asked him to gather some information for her based on what Spike had told her of his past during his insane ramblings - Cecily Addams, London 1880, Number 117 Gloucester Place. The car ride had so far been silent in the back seat, Willow and Xander immersed in their own conversation up front. Giles was deep in thought, the revelation about Spike earning his soul and his consequent mental imbalance must have sent the man's mind spinning into all sorts of Watcher minded panics. He was still waiting on the Council to upload the information they had on the Gaudium Chalice to a secure site. The man who at one time abhorred the very concept of digitization now acted as if his laptop were attached to his hip.

However, the information he'd gathered on William was presented to Buffy in a folder. William James Suffolk was born to Arthur and Margaret in London on July 9th, 1858 and went mysteriously missing in the summer of 1880. Amongst the papers were photocopies of pages writing in an immaculate feminine hand, they'd been labeled as entries from Miss Addams' diary.

I should feel sorry for him, but does one feel pity for the insect who unwittingly is crushed under our feet? Certainly not. William Suffolk is kindly enough, well mannered and may have a pleasant face, but what he owns in in grace he is sorely lacking in stature. His family's position is below my own, several grades below. Therefore the attentions he insists on showering upon me are a nuisance rather than flattery.

This evening's party at Lord Meltchett's London residence was especially painful. William may as well have spouted his awful poetry about me before the entire gathering like a town crier! It was severe enough a trial to sit politely and endure his declarations of love in the seclusion of the setae at the edge of the parlor.

How could sad little William possibly fathom that I would ever reciprocate his affections? I'm in doubt that he would even know what to do with a woman. Lords Percy and Meltchett often comment in private that....

"Bitch," Buffy grumbled.

"Pardon?" asked Giles.

"Did you read these?" He looked down at the papers and smiled just a little.

"Yes, surprising isn't it? Never in my wildest imagination did I picture this version of William ."

"He's tried to tell me you know? That he was good. I'm beginning to understand him now, the soul and the demon and how they're fighting each other and trying to coexist. It's no wonder he can't cope, but he's trying."

"I'll admit that I'm eager to sit down and talk with him. He's the first vampire to ever reclaim his soul, it's so remarkable I can barely comprehend the scope of what this means...philosophically, theologically..."

"Right now, Giles, he's being held prisoner and he's helpless. There's also a girl who's been reaching out to us both in our dreams to solve her mother's murder and get her out too. We can explore the significance of another ensouled vampire when he's home safe."

"Home safe?" Buffy frowned, there wasn't an answer she could give that would explain just what she was feeling, she wasn't sure herself.

"Whatever...I just want him out of there. William, he's so..."

"William is innocent. By all that I was able to find out his past, I'd say he's as untried in the world as they come. He was studious, pious, took care of his mother. He was a romantic, idealistic young boy, undoubtedly a virgin also. William's an innocent and as the Slayer you know it is your responsibility to save him." Their conversation was interrupted by Xander letting out a loud guffaw. All of them, including Willow looked at him in confusion."Something you'd like to share Xander?"

"Oh come on, Spike - an innocent virgin? Was that before or after he slaughtered half of Europe?" Giles instinctively placed a hand on Buffy's forearm, grounding her.

"I suggest, Xander that you continue driving and don't say another word."

"Giles, come on..." Willow gave Xander a pointed look and he shut up, rolling his eyes, but taking Giles' advice.

"Thank you," Buffy mouthed, wiping a tear from her eye before bending down to continue reading. As an innocent, like Jane, Buffy was obligated to rescue William, but both she and apparantly Giles knew, that she also had a responsibility to the demon who loved her as much as the man seemed to. Spike deserved her best and she was resolute that he would get nothing less.

 

Chapter 20 - Torment

The Sunnydale airport was in the opposite direction of where Fernridge was situated, therefore it would be dark before they could reach the secluded institution. This upset Buffy immensely, she was on edge because of not knowing Spike's present fate, but moreso because of the emotions those thoughts stirred inside her. When she thought about Spike, in her mind putting aside the present danger, she simply wanted to bring him into her home and take care of him. This circle of thought was unshakable, but it left her with a peace knowing that in her heart, she really truly had forgiven him his trespasses. But none of her good intentions would mean a thing if he found his end at Fernridge. That was something she could not endure.

After they arrived at the Summers home the Scoobies convened their first true meeting since before they faced Glory in the final showdown. Anya joined them too, her knowledge of demons valuable as ever, as well as Clem, who was as passionate as Buffy about seeing to Spike's welfare. Giles busied himself with hooking up his computer and checking the Watcher archive, whilst Willow and Dawn shared an awkward reacquaintance. Buffy meanwhile looked absently through her weapons chest in hopes something would come to mind about how to rescue the innocents from the institution. Clem informed them of what he knew about Cerberus demon dogs, and Anya confirmed. The beasts were summoned up from the lower parts of hell to serve as sentinels, tireless guardians around a designated perimeter. Like with most demons, the night was their time of power and they hid themselves during the day. This made sneaking back on to the property decidedly difficult to accomplish at night. They often roamed in numbers close on two dozen. In frustration, Buffy slammed the lid to the chest closed, starling everyone.

"Sorry," she apologized,"This is hard."

"We understand," Giles replied from his seat on the couch, still typing away one the keyboard,"This is a stressful time, but we'll weather it. We always do."

"I feel helpless, it's hard to admit that, even to all of you." Feeling guilty Xander cleared his throat and looked at his friend.

"Spike's tough, he's a survivor," the young man offered. Buffy nodded, but then felt herself caving.

"But if it was the old Spike I could see that, but he's not. The soul makes him vulnerable, makes it so he can't rely on what makes him tough. I...." Her voice cracked and she looked upon each of them,"Spike is important to me, very important...I...I can't lose him, do you all understand what I'm saying?"

"We understand," said Dawn,"And there's Jane too, we have work to do, right?"

"Right. Right. Okay, Giles, find out what you can about the Gaudium Chalice and its cult. Willow, work on magical defenses and protection spells against attack and the Cerberus. Anya, find out the best ways to kill the dogs. Xander, you and I are on weapons and strategy. Dawn, I want you to get on your computer and find out how the Westerbergs are all connected to this. Clem, you're on snack duty. Tomorrow we get Spike and Jane out of there."

***

"Salicadoola magicaboola bibbity bobbity boo..." Doc sing-songed quietly as he went about his work, setting up instruments and equipment in and around the immobilized vampire. Spike's vision was blurry and full of colors from over exposure to the overhead lights, not to mention the fact that they also hurt from being dry due to his inability to blink. A second figure was detected and aided Doc in whatever they were preparing to do.

"Doctor?"

"Yes Nurse Beckett?"

"I'm not questioning your judgment by any means, but I must ask why you feel this course of action is necessary."

"Because, my dear, I owe this to him. After all, he has tried to kill me on past occasions, it seems only right that I reciprocate, though I'm in doubt this will actually kill him. You're not squeamish at the sight of blood are you?"

"No, not at all, I did an Emergency Room apprenticeship after university."

"Good, because there's alot of blood anywhere near the brain."

"Isn't this dangerous?"

"Very, especially the way I'm going to do it."

"No, I meant that without that microchip he'll be able to attack humans, there are alot of humans here."

"I'm not concerned, as I said before, as long as the medication is in action, he'll never move again. I'm ready."

"Doctor, shouldn't we scrub in? Shouldn't we put him under anesthetic? There's procedure to follow when performing brain surgery. We should at least shave his head."

"Nonsense, it's a vampire, a vampire I happen to be holding a grudge against. If it were not for this vampire, the exalted Glorificus would have succeeded in opening the dimensions. I want him fully aware of what's happening to him. I want him to feel everything."

"You're merciless."

"Calculated. Besides, this really isn't proper surgery, this is just a bit of fun. Pass me the drill." There was a whirling squeal of metal as the surgical drill came to life. Doc gave Spike a smack on his cheek before he began.

 

Chapter 21 - Escape

"No hurting now please....please mum, make him stop! Please with the no hurting now. Mum!? Mum?!!" Spike cried, though no sound came from his lips."Anyone...I'm begging!! Buffy? Buffy! BUFFY!"

"I'll take your pain away. I'll make all the hurt disappear," a soft voice he knew all too well whispered in his ear. She pulled away just enough for him to perceive the tip of her cute nose. As he focused on her face, he felt the back of her hand stroke his cheek, the other tugging gently at the loose curls at the base of his neck,"No more pain, my beautiful man...my vampire."

"Buffy," he gasped as he finally could see her clearly. The light around them faded to black, but she was still highlighted by golds and ambers from an imperceptible light source. She smiled for him, her long tendrils of hair framing her perfectly.

"When you're with me there will be no hurt, no pain, just you and me. Do you feel me? How warm I am when you touch me, how every part of your body was made to fit with him. Do you feel how soft I am on the inside?. Can you feel how much I want you?" He realized then, as she lowered herself down on his erection, taking him deep inside her body, that they were naked and in want of each other. She was being so good to him, so tender and kind, just how he always wanted it. He had her wrapped around him, her were arms around his neck, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He was inside her, snug and warm, being massaged, so far up inside her he touched the entrance to her womb. They barely moved, just a gentle rocking like the ebb and flow of water to the shore, just enough to make him painfully hard and keep her flowing, both rising steadily to mutual release. She felt every nuance of him, the entire length from where his body ended and he'd become part of hers. She tensed inside herself, squeezing him, making him gasp, then moan.

When she comes she breathes in short bursts, her eyes close and her head tilts back, mouth opening slightly. Her thighs turn to steel and then melt, she is perfect. She sobs with her climax, clinging to him to anchor her, pushing his mouth to her breasts. He erupts, cool streams of fluid that flood her, rushing from him, around him, mingling with her hot come. They rode out the waves of their mutual climax, they held each other close, no space between their skins. There was comfort, there was solace, there was love. So much love.

***

Buffy woke up that morning with a smile on her face, moaning sweetly as she squeezed her pillow in her hands. She reached across the bed for her vampire lover, but felt only the cold undisturbed top of her quilt. Her eyes snapped open, realizing it had been only a dream. She gasped and turned her face into the bed to stifle her scream. She may have been crying her heart out, but she knew it, knew it in her soul that it hadn't just been a dream. This made their separation all the more torturous.

They were sharing dreams, escaping to the same place night after night, and it was no longer because of Jane. It was because of each other and love they shared. Realizing it now of course had Buffy feeling half sick, in agony for want to have him back in her arms, to be back in the dream place where they were together and safe.

She had her cry and then composed herself. Having fallen asleep in her clothes sometime last night after the Scooby assembly, she undressed and went into the bathroom for a shower. Afterwards she wasted valuable time staring in her closet, looking for the right outfit to take on an evil cult. Fact of the matter was that her words from the previous night were ringing true. She felt helpless. Storming the proverbial castle was pointless without an army. Giles could probably pose as Randall's father and gain access, but what would be the point if he couldn't get out with both Spike and Jane. She was the Slayer and she couldn't even save the man she loved.

***

"I think. I think am. Therefore I am. I think. I'm not dead, or at least I am not other than undead. Though I cannot say for certain that I am not dreaming. I was with Buffy, I was in her arms, in her body. We made love. That can't have just been a dream. It was so real. Would I know if I was awake? And isn't it strange how coming to this place, being forced inside my own mind that I have torn myself away from the grips of madness and found William and Spike are one and the same? I am me, I am one person, I am of one body, one mind, one heart and I suppose perhaps, one soul. Upon one shoulder sits a pure and noble soul, on the other is a demon that thirsts for blood and mayhem. In the center there is me, us. But now there is no us, no we, there is me, there is I. I am 145 years old, I am a vampire with a soul. I love Buffy Anne Summers.

No one will ever know. Buffy will never know I've come back to myself. Back to her.

Will I go on like this for eternity? My body paralyzed and out of my control? Will I be trapped inside my own mind, walled up and forgotten as I starve, but continue on, unaging for all time? How long before I lose my mind again? Bloody hell...my head hurts."