Thank you to Maria and Flight Of Fancy for betaing.


Spike let out a groan. His shoulders were burning, but when he tried to move them to ease the pressure on his joints, he wasn’t able to. He opened his swollen eyes, but all he could tell was that he was in some kind of storage room. “What the bloody Hell is going on here?”

Hearing chains rattle, Spike noticed that there was a thick metal cuff around each of his wrists, and that each cuff was chained to the wall. No wonder his shoulders were aching, he was hanging by his arms. Now that he was awake, he realized that the position he was hanging in just barely let him touch the ground with his toes. Doing his best to support his weight on his legs, he was able to twist and get a grip on the chains. He tried with all his strength to pull them from the wall, but it was no use. The chains were magically enhanced, like the ones he used when his Sire got completely out of control.

A door to Spike’s left opened, and Angelus walked into the small room. “William. I see you’ve finally decided to join us,” the brunette vampire gloated.

“What the Hell is going on, you tosser?”

Angelus shifted to game face. “I won’t suffer a traitor in my house, especially when he’s a useless little pissant like you, Spike. I guess you didn’t think I’d pay attention to Dru’s babbling. Thought you’d be able to just sneak up behind me and take what isn’t yours, eh boy?” The enraged vampire got closer to Spike with every word spoken.

Finally, Spike could feel his Grandsire’s breath on his face. He looked Angelus right in the eye, refusing to cower or beg. “I haven’t betrayed you.”

“Only because I got you before you could get me.” Angelus turned away from him. “You remember how this works, right? I’m the one that gets to have the fun here, and you’re the one that gets to scream.” The older vampire’s smile was vicious as he turned back to his captive.

“Bloody Hell, Angelus. I haven’t betrayed you. Don’t have any intention of doing that.”

“Too bad I don’t believe you. And do you know why?” Angelus sneered.

“I don’t have a fucking clue.” Spike stood up on his toes, trying to relieve the strain in his shoulders.

Angelus grinned. “I trust Dru. When you think about it, the song was very straightforward this time. No riddles to puzzle out, for a change. ‘My brave knight will defeat my Daddy.’ Pretty hard to argue your way out of that one, boy. She’s been calling you her knight since she pulled you out of the ground, and everyone knows that I’m her Daddy.” At that, the vampire walked over to a cart that was arranged off to Spike’s right. “Now, without further delay, time for the fun,” Angelus crowed. With a great flourish, he removed the black velvet cloth that covered the cart, and then adjusted its location to make sure Spike had a good view.

Spike couldn’t help but tense. Bugger me. I’m in big trouble now.

Angelus rubbed his hands together. “Now, where to start? Where to start? It’s such a big decision and I don’t want to rush things and miss something important.”

“Okay, so, here’s the thing, Angelus. Before you do something you might regret later, why don’t you go find Dru and ask her what she was thinking about when she sang her little ditty,” Spike asked nervously.

“Sorry. Our Dru is a little tied up at the moment. No, that was a lie. MY Dru is a LOT tied up at the moment. I believe I even used some chains.” The angered vampire walked back and forth in front of the table, before picking up a truly vicious looking knife. “I didn’t want to risk her interfering with our fun. Sometimes girls can be so silly when it comes to blood, don’t you agree?” With that, Angelus straightened his shoulders and appeared to reach some kind of internal decision.

Spike watched as his Grandsire slowly approached, flicking the knife back and forth in front of him, knowing that the blonde vampire was probably just about crawling out of his skin because of the delay.

Spike knew exactly what was coming. There had been times when he had been forced to watch Angelus torture others, when his Grandsire had been in the mood to lecture and wanted Spike to learn the art. At other times, Spike had been on the receiving end of the torture himself, having managed to irritate Angelus to the point where he thought the younger vampire needed to be taken down a notch or two. Torture was never Spike’s thing, and Dru wasn’t able to remain focused on one thing long enough to really be good at it. Angelus though, he was a master, and loved to drag things out for as long as possible. It was his favourite way to entertain humans, followed closely by violent rapes. Ideally, the older vampire tried to work out situations where he got to indulge in both, whether it was torturing a father and raping his daughters in front of him, or torturing a priest and raping all the nuns in his parish, one after the other.

Spike’s thing, on the other hand, was a fair fight. If there was no risk, there was just no point fighting. Sometimes, when he was really bored and at loose ends, he would go to a rough bar, human or demon — didn’t matter to him, and deliberately start a fight with an entire group of opponents. Five or six at a time wasn’t unheard of for the tough blonde vampire. When Spike won a fight, he wanted to know that he had cheated his final death once again.

When Angelus reached Spike, he used the knife to cut the younger vampire’s shirt off, nicking him frequently in the process. By the time Spike’s chest and shoulders were bare, he was covered in at least twenty small cuts.

Spike was starting to worry about what was going to happen next. Angelus had been trapped by a soul for over a hundred years, and he had a lot of repressed mean and nasty to get out of his system.

Angelus took the remnants of Spike’s shirt, and used it to light a fire in a round metal cauldron that was resting on the floor beside his tool cart. Once the fire died down a bit, he placed a fire poker in the cauldron, letting it rest on the glowing red coals inside. He didn’t say a word, just watched Spike and smiled. What he wanted to do was break the younger vampire, as he had done when Spike was a fledgling.

Spike vowed that, this time, Angelus would have a long wait. Spike was a Master in his own right now, and he wouldn’t be so easy to break. He also knew that giving in to Angelus would only bring more pain, not the relief the older vampire promised. As long as Spike showed a reaction, his Grandsire would continue to torture him. Finally, the session would end when Spike collapsed, unconscious. Without the screaming and begging, it just wasn’t fun for Angelus.

Spike planned to avoid the screaming and begging altogether, and hoped that Angelus would quickly become bored with his games and go looking for someone new to play with.

Throwing one last smile at his Grandchilde, Angelus exited the room, leaving the poker still in the cauldron of hot coals, and Spike still hanging from the wall.

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At some point during the day, Cordelia finally woke. She tried to lift her head from the ground, but the pain and dizziness were so intense that she ended up vomiting on herself. Slowly, breathing deeply, she managed to move until she was sitting upright against the wall, all the while trying to remember what had happened to her. She carefully used her hands to feel her head and face, and discovered that she had a big lump on the right side of her head that had been bleeding profusely at some point, and that the left side of her face was swollen and very painful. Her left eye was completely closed, and she wasn’t certain, but it felt like she was missing several teeth from the left side of her mouth.

A few more deep breaths, and then Cordelia was ready to stand up. Unfortunately, someone forgot to send that message to both her legs and her head. She was so dizzy that she barely made it to her knees again before slumping down, face first, onto the floor. The cold floor might have provided some relief for her headache, had her face not been so swollen. Still, Cordy knew that she had to get out of the apartment. Bits and pieces of her memory were starting to come back now, and two things were certain in her mind. Angel had hurt her, swatting at her like a kitten swatting a fly, and she didn’t want to be around if he decided he wanted to play with her again. The cheerleader was determined, and slowly managed to drag herself across the floor to the apartment door. Fortunately for her, Angel hadn’t bothered to close it when he left, so she was able to pull herself over the sill and part-way into the hall. At that point, she was no longer able to overcome the pain and dizziness, and lost consciousness again.

It wasn’t long before a neighbour, returning home from his early morning shift at work, stumbled across the young girl in the hall. He was a decent man, but at first he didn’t want to get involved. Given the grotesque swelling of her face and the blood in her hair, he thought it likely that he had stumbled across another of the town’s many random gang killings. Then, just by chance, Cordelia moaned. Immediately, the neighbour rushed to his apartment and called for the police and an ambulance. Then he went back into the hallway with a light blanket, and covered Cordelia until emergency crews arrived. She was only wearing a bathrobe and he didn’t want to leave her so scandalously exposed to anyone passing by.

The police and the ambulance arrived quickly. It wasn’t often that someone attacked in their community actually survived to tell the tale, and so they were both motivated to respond quickly. The police became even more motivated when they looked in the apartment and found Cordelia’s purse. The fact that she was Cordelia Chase of The Chase Family, a family of huge wealth and influence in the community, meant they would be expected to find answers, and find them quickly.

A team of detectives and forensic investigators started to search the apartment that Cordelia had clearly crawled from. In the bathroom, they found evidence of a shower, but the stall was dry, so it wasn’t recent. There was a dress hanging on the back of the door, and it seemed to be in Cordelia’s size. In the bedroom, they found a rumpled bed, with two indentations in the pillows, so they knew that two people had slept in the bed at some point. There was also a pair of men’s pant on the floor, as well as a shirt. They also found an empty bottle of wine, with two glasses, leading them to believe that Cordelia might have been drugged and taken advantage of. Given the clothing in the closet, and the general look of the apartment, they assumed it belonged to a man, and that he was likely involved in the attack on the young lady.

The police tried canvassing the building, trying to get more information about the occupant of the basement apartment. Unfortunately, Angel had kept to himself, preferring a solitary life spent in the shadows, and so they were unable to gather much information. Their only hope was that Miss Chase knew her attacker, and would be able to provide them with a name and a description once she was seen to at the hospital.

In the meantime, Cordelia had been rushed to Sunnydale Memorial Hospital as soon as the paramedics were able to safely transfer her onto a stretcher. They were very concerned about a possible neck fracture, given the visible head trauma. Police dispatch managed to contact her parents, as Cordelia was arriving at the hospital, and they dropped what they were doing to rush to their daughter.

An MRI showed that Cordelia had a fractured jaw, as well as a small skull fracture and a concussion. The emergency room staff did their best to stabilize the traumatized young woman, and then they prepped her for surgery. The skull fracture would heal with time, but the damage to her jaw was severe. Cordelia’s jaws would be wired shut to allow her jaw bone to heal correctly. She would also require plastic surgery to reconstruct her left cheekbone, which had been shattered by Angel’s blow to her face.

Cordelia would be unconscious for several hours yet.

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Spike thought it was about an hour later, when Angelus came back into the room.

“Ready to tell the truth yet, boy?” he asked Spike.

“Damn it, Angelus. I’m not bloody lying to you!” But it was clear that his Grandsire wasn’t in the mood to listen.

“Alright then, let the fun begin.” Angelus walked over to the cauldron and picked up the fireplace poker. It smoked, and shone a dull red. “Last chance, Spike. If you admit you had planned to take over my place as the Master of the Order of Aurelius and head of our clan, then I might go easy on you. I can admire ambition in my own childer.”

They both knew it was a lie. The only ambition Angelus admired was his own. He also loved to give hope and then brutally crush it, especially when it led to begging. Yes, for the larger vampire, the begging was definitely the best part of torturing someone.

Angelus admired the hot poker, allowing it to cool slightly as he walked over to Spike. He even touched the point with a thumb he had licked, just to raise Spike’s apprehension when he heard the telltale sizzle. Holding the poker, now a dark red, over Spike’s shoulder, Angelus asked, “Any last requests before we start?” with a sadistic smile on his face.

Spike clenched his jaw and glared at his Grandsire, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer.

Angelus laughed with glee. “Not going to fall for that one, eh Willy Boy? Aren’t you the clever one then.”

Without any warning, the hot poker was suddenly laid against Spike’s cheek for a few seconds. The blonde vampire closed his eyes, his entire body clenched in agony. Smoke rose from his blackened cheek, and the smell of the burned flesh was horrible.

“Oops. Sorry about that Spikey. The poker slipped when I wasn’t looking.”

It took a few minutes, but the scalding pain was starting to fade. Spike opened his eyes, and looked straight into Angelus’ golden ones.

“This is what I was planning to do.” With a nasty smile on his face, Angelus pressed the point of the poker into Spike’s chest, burning through his flesh and right down to his heart.

For some reason, vampires seem to gain additional benefits from their demon when they’re in game face. Very early on in his unlife, Spike had learned that bringing his demon to the fore would also help him deal with extreme pain. Having a hot poker shoved through his chest and into his heart brought Spike’s demon out without conscious effort on the blonde vampire’s part.

Angelus slowly pulled the poker out of Spike’s flesh. “Too bad it’s not wood, but then, I don’t want you to die too quickly now, do I? Where would the fun be in that? Plus, I want you to serve as an example to anyone else who might be thinking about trying to step into my shoes. The minions will be talking about you for a long time after I’m finished with you.” It was easy to see that his Grandsire was looking forward to hearing the stories the minions would tell. “You know, I think it’s getting cold,” he said, waving the poker in the air. Angelus touched the hot poker to the Spike’s ribs, on the side and just above his waist. “Nope, still nice and warm,” the older vampire laughed. “Here, let’s give you one on the other side to match.” And with that, Angelus pressed the hot iron to the other side of Spike’s chest.

Spike’s demon was enraged at the treatment it was receiving from Angelus, and the blonde vampire had tracks of blood running down his chin from where he’d bit his lips to avoid giving his Grandsire the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

The poker clanged against the side of the cauldron when Angelus returned it to the coals. “Definitely not warm enough now.” The older vampire turned to the other implements on his cart instead. “What to choose? What to choose?” His hands briefly touched on a tool, before moving on to the next, until he stopped at an ordinary looking knife. He held it up for Spike to see. “What do you think of this one, Spikey? Ready to play a new game?”

Spike knew the knife wasn’t as ordinary as it looked. The blade was sharp, razor sharp. As if seeking confirmation, Angelus pulled a strand of hair out of Spike’s scalp, and then proceeded to cut the hair in two with the knife. “Hmmm...Not quite sharp enough for what I’ve got in mind, I’m afraid.”

Angelus placed the knife back on the cart, and then went over to Spike and pulled the smaller vampire’s thick leather belt off. Flipping the belt up over his shoulder, Angelus briefly left the room, returning after only a few minutes carrying a chair, which he placed next to the cart.

Sitting down in the chair, he placed the buckle of the belt on the floor, and placed a boot heel on it, while wrapping the other end of the belt around his fist and pulling it taut. Holding the blade tightly, he drew the blade down the leather, carefully sharpening one side of the knife. After five or six minutes, Angelus switched direction, and drew the other side of the blade up the leather, sharpening the other side for several minutes. Then, for ten or fifteen minutes, he switched back and forth between each side of the blade. By the time he was done, Spike knew that the ordinary looking knife would be able to cut spider webs, never mind hair.

“There we are. I think it’s ready now. How about a quick test though?” he asked as he got up from his chair and moved toward his captive Grandchilde. Angelus reached up and yanked out a chunk of hair, and then held it at eye level so Spike could watch the knife cut through it with ease. “Just right,” Angelus said, with another vicious smile.

Angelus spent the next few hours playing with his knife. He started at Spike’s shoulders and worked his way down to the younger vampire’s waist, using mostly small cuts, but throwing the odd deep or long cut in, just for variety. He seemed to take a lot of enjoyment from apologizing after each deep cut.

By the time Angelus was done, Spike’s whole upper body was covered in cuts, and he had bled so much that it almost looked like he was wearing a red shirt. He’d long since stopped reacting, even to the deeper cuts his Grandsire made, and had instead retreated into his mind, leaving his demon to deal with the pain.

“This is boring,” Angelus complained with a pout. “Let’s take a break while I decide what I want to do next.” He tossed the blood covered knife back onto the cart, and then headed for the door. “Don’t wander off now,” he laughed, as he headed off to find Drusilla.

Ha, ha. That was so funny, I forgot to bloody laugh. Now, how the Hell am I going to get out of here? If the Poof keeps this up, I’ll be out of blood soon, and then I won’t stand a chance against him. Spike could feel the weight of his lost blood, pulling on his hips as it was absorbed into the fabric of his jeans. He tugged on the chains around his wrists again, as well as the ones holding his ankles, but it was no use. He was weaker now than the first time he’d tried to break free, and it was only going to get worse. His best chance was that Angelus would forget about him, or that Dru would finally come to her senses, defy her Sire, and release him. Bugger, I’m never getting out of here.

Angelus entertained himself with Drusilla for a time, but it wasn’t nearly as long as Spike was hoping for. It seemed like hardly any time had passed before he could hear Angelus making his way back down the hall to where Spike was still helpless and chained to the wall.

“A nice break, that was. My Dru always was a Daddy’s girl. At the rate we’re going, she’s going to forget all about you, just like that.” Angelus snapped his fingers in Spike’s face, before turning and heading to the cart of torture implements again. This time, he moved his body so Spike couldn’t see what he was picking up. “What I want to know now, is why you don’t seem to care about Dru. You’ve been chasing her like a lovesick puppy dog for over a hundred years, and now, what? You’ve changed your mind? You don’t want her anymore? You don’t care what happens to her?” He moved to stand in front of Spike.

“I do care about her. She’s my Sire,” Spike protested. He wasn’t sure what Angelus was up to now, but he knew it wouldn’t be something he’d enjoy.

“So you say. Is that part of the plan? Trying to make me think you don’t care? That you’re just going to passively let her stray from you?” Angelus held out a little bottle full of clear liquid.

“What the Hell are you talking about? I care! I just told you I care!”

Angelus pulled the cork, careful not to get any of the liquid on his hands. “You haven’t complained even once about me taking Dru from you.” With a sadistic smile, he slowly raised the bottle over Spike and began to tip it.

Knowing that it wouldn’t do any good, Spike still desperately tried to pull the chains loose, so he could escape from Angelus. It was clear to him now, that there would be no reasoning with the deranged vampire. “You were right. You were. She doesn’t love me. I know it. Doesn’t love me, probably never has. She only wants you.” His voice cut off as the Holy water started streaming across his chest and shoulders. His skin smoked, and his screams were agonizing. Then, there was only darkness.

Angelus came back to check on his Grandchilde as the sun went down, but Spike was still unconscious. Since he couldn’t play with the blonde vampire, Angelus decided it was time to pay a visit to a little blonde Slayer he knew.

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It was almost a full day later, before Cordelia was out of surgery and able to see her parents. She did her best to reassure them, all the while wanting to break down and cry herself. The pain and the fear she experienced were almost overwhelming, but she knew she needed to get in touch with Giles before it would be safe to fall apart. She had a nurse provide her with a pencil and a piece of paper, and then wrote a note asking the nurse to call the number on the paper and advise Mr. Giles that she was in the hospital and needed him to visit immediately. Once the nurse and her parents left the room, Cordelia rolled onto her side and curled into a small ball, using her pillow to muffle the sobs she could no longer hold at bay.

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Early in the afternoon, with Lorne’s help, Buffy finished packing her cute little car. She’d done her best to have most of her purchases shipped directly to Sunnydale, but still had so much to fit in the car that she’d ended up leaving a few things behind for Lorne to send on the bus. She hated leaving the green skinned demon with extra work, but for some reason her leftover Slayer senses had been screaming at her all night, and she knew she had to get on the road right away. Buffy planned to leave the city before the commuters, in an effort to cut an hour off her trip. It might be a cute little car, but it had some pep as well.

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Angelus rang the doorbell, and smiled politely when the door opened. “Hello, Mrs. Summers. By any chance, is Buffy home?”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, Angel. Buffy left for LA a few days ago. She should be back tonight or tomorrow though.”

“This is kind of a sensitive matter. Would I be able to come in and write her a note?” the vampire asked, thinking to gain access to the house while Joyce was vulnerable.

“Sure,” Joyce replied, opening the door to let him through.

A smile of anticipation on his face, Angelus started forward. “Thanks, Mrs. Sum...” Angelus had walked to the door, and bounced off the barrier spell. “What’s going on? When did you take my invitation away?” he demanded.

Beginning to sense that something wasn’t right, Joyce took a step back from the door. “I haven’t, as far as I know.”

Angelus tried to get his anger under control. It wouldn’t do to scare her away now. “It’s probably some kind of mistake. Don’t worry about it, Joyce. You can just invite me in, and I’ll write that note and be out of your hair. It’s just really important that Buffy get this information as soon as she gets home.”

Joyce was a little uncomfortable with the thought of inviting the vampire in. He seemed to be on the verge of having a temper tantrum, but the gang had repeatedly told her that Angel was one of the good guys. “Okay,” she nodded. “Come in, Angel.”

Really ready to kill the Slayer’s mother now, Angel quickly stepped forward, only to be rebuffed again. “What the Hell is going on?” he demanded, as he vamped out. “What the fuck have you done, you stupid bitch? Let me in now or I’ll rip your damn throat out,” he growled.

Horrified, Joyce quickly pulled back and slammed the door shut, locking both the knob and the deadbolt. Then she ran to the kitchen door and made sure it was locked as well. Hearing the angry vampire shouting obscenities at her from outside, she grabbed the cordless phone and started dialling Merrick’s number while she ran from room to room, checking the window locks. The phone rang several times, but Buffy’s friend couldn’t be reached. Her mind raced for a moment, but then she decided to give Giles a call. They might not be on the best of terms at the moment, but she knew the Watcher would come to her aid in this situation. Unfortunately, Giles wasn’t answering his phone either. After another moment of panicked thought, Joyce realized that Merrick was probably pretty new to cell phones, and might have just missed the call. She tried his number again, and was rewarded for her persistence when Buffy’s Watcher picked up after the first ring.

“Hello. Merrick here.”

Just hearing his voice made Joyce feel a little safer already. “Oh, thank God. There’s something wrong, Merrick. Angel just came to the door, and asked if he could come in and leave a note for Buffy. For some reason he couldn’t get in the house, even after I tried inviting him in. He got so angry, he vamped out, and was yelling and threatening to rip my throat out. I don’t know what to do.”

Joyce heard a deep sigh over the phone.

“Buffy was afraid something like this would happen. Just stay inside, Joyce. You’re perfectly safe there. I’m on my way over now.” After disconnecting his call with Joyce, Merrick quickly dialled the number for a local taxi company and arranged to meet them on the corner of the main street a block away. If Angelus was loose, Merrick didn’t want to waste time jogging over to Joyce’s home.