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CHAPTER 16 - TO GO DOWN FIGHTING

 

Late Wednesday Night

 

He lay face down in the dirt in the open grave. The spell paralyzed him and he was helpless. His mind and soul screamed but his body remained unmoving.

He had betrayed Dawn. He had phoned Wolfram and Hart. Dawn would die under the knife because he had been a bleeding idiot who signed a contract with evil. He had signed in blood and let himself be spellbound. Buffy had taken pity on him, taken him into her house and her arms and now her sister faced death because of him. In a hundred long years he had seldom given in to despair, but now he wept in shame.

 

Gradually feeling began to return to his body and he was able to move. He clumsily wiped the tears from his face and struggled to his feet. The grave was six feet deep. He had to get out and rescue Dawn. He had to make it right somehow. He reached up and tried to pull himself out of the grave. The handcuffs and the dislocated shoulder made it impossible and, in agony, he collapsed back down to the bottom.

 

He had all night to figure how to get out. He dug two footholds in the grave's steep side and crawled up again. As his head cleared the top of the grave, he saw Drusilla. The soil gave way and he fell backward.

 

He lay on his back in the grave, looking up into the darkened face of his former lover. She examined him coldly and four other vampires joined her. She was regal, the Mad Queen, and the minions clustered around her in obsequious obedience.

"Dru, my love."

 

She pointed to her whitened eye, still slowly recovering from the stab wound. He had stabbed her with a cross, and her beautiful face would probably always bear a scar.

 

"Kill him," she ordered the minions.

 

He didn't stand a chance. But he appealed to the hundred years of memories they shared. "Don't slaughter me like an animal, Dru! At least give me a chance to fight. You always loved to see me fight."

 

She paused and looked down. "Remember Mexico, Spike. Remember the dog pits and the lovely dogfights." She hissed. "They tore each other to pieces." He saw the bitterness in her face. He remembered the Judge had once condemned the two of them, "You two stink of humanity. You share affection and jealousy." When he had stabbed her with his jury-rigged cross, he had killed the last humanity in his dark beauty and only a monster stood before him

.

I'm going to die, he realized. It was a surprise how much he wanted to live. He had to save Dawn. He had been accepted by the woman he loved. He had so much to lose. How many poor sods that I killed wanted to live as desperately as I do. Justice was a bitch. At least I'll go out fighting this time; not meek and sniveling like the last time. Somehow he had always known that he would go down fighting.

 

And buried deep inside was the foolish stubborn optimism that had guided his life for the last 120 years. Perhaps he had one more escape in him. Perhaps if he fought hard, he could somehow get free and rescue Dawn.

 

Dru nodded to a minion and clapped her hands. The minion jumped into the pit with him . . . Spike sized it up warily. It was probably only a few months from the grave, a stupid fledgling that had attached itself to anyone stronger, anyone who would do the painful job of thinking. It grinned and approached confidant of its strength.

 

He really shouldn't have a chance against its greater speed and strength. But it was over-confident. He stepped sideways, out of its charge and whirled, slamming the handcuffs into its temple. It reeled and he plunged his thumb into one of its eyes, gouging it out. The monster screamed and slashed with its fangs. Spike reeled back, his arm torn and bleeding.

 

The pain and smell of blood maddened the creature and it slammed him against the wall of the grave. The side crumbled, burying them both. Spike choked on the dirt and frantically clawed his way out. He emerged before the fledgling and while it was still pinned by dirt, he gouged out the other eye, leaving it blind. The crumbled wall left the grave shallow enough that he was able to scramble out.

 

He emerged and Drusilla nodded. Her eyes showed recognition that, human or vampire, he was the Spike who fought even when he knew he couldn't win. This was the being who had attacked an entire mob in Prague to rescue her. For a moment, they exchanged a last glance, recognizing the century of love and pain that bound them.

 

Dru nodded at two of her minions and they closed in.

 

Of course it was a hopeless fight. He didn't stand a chance against two. They toyed with him, slashing and tearing at him with their fangs. When he would close in on one, the other would pry him loose. But he got in some blows. They were both bleeding and one had broken teeth where Spike had smashed it in the mouth with his handcuffs.

 

Nothing was fatal. The pain drove him mad and the lose of blood weakened him. Finally they held him up between them and Dru approached. "Do you want it?"

 

He lifted his torn and blood streaked face and stared deep into Dru's demon eyes. "Never." he breathed.

 

"I'll let you die, Spike." Her voice was low and dangerous. "And I won't turn you. My minions will. You'll wake up alone, hungry and stupid. Mommy won't be there to feed you and Daddy won't teach you how to think. You'll have eternity to suffer." Her three minions closed in on him.

 

They took turns draining him. His last conscious sensation was one of them forcing blood into his mouth and he knew he was damned.

 

* * *

 

The phone rang. Willow glance worriedly at her friend. Buffy had not retreated into her self as she had when Glory had taken Dawn, but her face was pale and she had not slept. She gazed dully at the phone and Willow had to answer it for her.

 

"Summer's residence. Willow speaking."

 

It was Angel. "Tell Buffy that we have both Park and Stanhope located. The ceremony will probably be tonight. Get here before dark."

 

Willow looked across the room at Tara. Her lover returned the look. They had lost so much time and had only returned fully to each other last night. They both looked across the room at Buffy. "We'll be there," Willow promised.

 

* * *

 

He woke up. Groggily Spike tried to breathe and inhaled dirt. He choked and opened his eyes to total darkness. He tried to scream and the dirt crumbled into his mouth, clogging it. Not for him a coffin or even a simple cloth over the face. He had been thrown in the hole and buried like rubbish.

 

He flailed in panic. Hunger, fear and confusion filled him and he could hardly move in the heavy dirt. He was strangling on the dirt and the pain in his guts ripped him apart. He clawed frantically.

 

Eternity passed before his hand emerged in the air. Desperately he dragged himself out of his grave, shaking with panic. He stared at the dark in confusion. Where was he? Who was he?

 

"Vampire." He turned and something was thrown at him. He grabbed it and went mad with the smell of blood. He bit deep and the sweet liquid coursed down his throat, bringing the first relief from hunger, the first sanity back to his clouded mind.

 

Then the food turned its frightened brown eyes at him and began to pray.

Startled Spike let it go and it reeled away, collapsing into the dirt.

 

The hunger raged through his body, but his mind was beginning to clear. His food was human. He focused, seeing for the first time a terrified migrant worker, dressed in shabby clothes. The man was bleeding heavily, muttering something.

 

He stared. The man was food, skin stretched over rich pulsing blood. He could smell it and hear the flutter of the man's frightened heart. The air was rich with the odor of fear. With a roar, Spike reached for the man, a wolf seizing a sheep, a cat clawing a mouse.

 

As he raised the man to his mouth, he recognized the muttering. It was Spanish, "Hail Mary, full of grace." Prayer. Confused he let the man go again and screamed his agony and bewilderment into the night.

 

"Kill him. You need the food."

 

He turned and saw the witch. He didn't know who she was, but hate filled him and he charged at her. One of several men guarding her reached out with a cross and Spike reeled back, his hand burning. He bared his fangs at her and lunged again, tears of frustration in his eyes and again they beat him off with crosses and holy water.

 

He turned to run off into the dark, away from the pain and confusion. "Stay." His feet couldn't move.

 

The witch beckoned and the bleeding man rose to his feet and stumbled back to the vampire. The smell of blood was maddening, but Spike glared at the witch and closed his mouth, defiant. Of all the sensations filling his confused brain, hate was the greatest.

 

She stared at him clinically. Finally she casually said, "Be still." He felt his body freeze.

 

"Put him in the van. He'll need more blood to think clearly."

 

Spike found himself deposited in the van and a small tense man crawled in the back with him. Spike closed his eyes. But closing his eyes didn't block the world out. He could smell. The odors of the van, the sweat of the nervous man beside him, the earth on his body and clothes and sweet and faint in the background, the odor of a young girl.

 

Pictures of her seeped into his mind. Long gleaming hair, wide innocent eyes, the warm texture of her arms around his neck as she impulsively hugged him, her sweet giggle and a thousand other pictures. Her face, rigid with terror as he was thrown off the tower, leaving her alone with Doc and his knife . . . He groaned, not understanding who he was seeing, why he was having these memories.

 

The man beside him misunderstood the groan. "Stay calm. I'll give you blood." As the van started, he took a bag of blood out of an ice chest, cut a hole in it and inserted a straw. He shoved it into Spike's mouth. The vampire sucked and drank the deep, rich liquid. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful. The van was quiet as the man fed the hungry fledgling.

 

He could think more clearly as the pain in his gut subsided. Suddenly he had a strange clear picture of doing this before, of sucking blood through a straw. Only he had been chained in a bathtub. He had been sucking blood through a straw from a novelty mug. The blonde holding the mug was mocking him, laughter in her hazel eyes. "You want something nicer? A look at my.. poor neck? All bare and tender and exposed.. all that blood just .. pumping away.. " He had licked his lips desperately, torn by lust and hunger. "Giles, make her stop!"

 

"Buffy." The man's eyes widened as the vampire spoke. But Spike didn't see him. Images of Buffy were flashing through his mind. He desperately grasped for them, like a man drowning in darkness, clinging to a last flickering light. The memories that tumbled through his head were so vivid he could taste them. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair as over a century of memories began to return.

 

The bag of blood fell and he found himself with a straw dangling from his lips. The small man who had been feeding him was up at the front of the storage space, hammering against the wall that separated them from the front of the van.

 

"Help! Let me out! He's moving! He's going to eat me."

 

Spike looked at the small man with amusement. He strode to the front area, relishing the return of his strength, reveling in his sharper predatory senses. He lifted the man up with one hand. It was amusing to listen to the man gibber and squeak. I'm free, Spike thought. I'm finally free of that bloody chip. I can be the Big Bad!

 

And all I had to pay is Dawn's life and Buffy's love.

 

He put the man down. Looking at the man's terrified expression sickened him. The man knew that he had been set up as food for the evil blood-sucking fiend. I'm not that predictable, Spike thought bitterly. If I'm going to be a killer again, I'll choose my own soddin' prey, not have the witch select it for me.

 

"Bring me another bag of blood." The frightened man skittered over to the ice chest and brought Spike another bag. Spike regarded the man sourly. He definitely looked edible and the demon within wanted to tear his throat out.

 

"I am going to ask you some questions and if you want to live, you'll answer. And remember," Spike inhaled deeply. "I can smell when you're lying."

 

The man nodded fearfully.

 

"What's your name?"

 

"Don. Don Ferris."

 

Spike winced at the name. It sounded like Dawn and his mind filled with the image of the terrified child as the bastards had torn her blouse. She had been so brave when they had been in the back of the van together, overcoming her fear to concentrate on untying him and helping him plan an escape. He shook his head in bewilderment. The chip was gone. He shouldn't be feeling guilty. He shouldn't care about a human child.

 

"Well, Ferris, where are we going?"

 

"I don't know." The little man cowered. "I really don't. I'm just following orders. Mrs. Stanhope needs to perform a ceremony and we were hired to bring you there. But I don't know where the ceremony is supposed to happen."

 

"Ceremony?" For the first time, Spike felt a stirring of hope. "What day is today?"

 

"Friday, the 22nd.

 

Spike's eye's widened. It was the night of the new moon. He had risen from his grave after only two days. Tonight would be the night that they would sacrifice the Key and apparently the ceremony hadn't happened yet. Dawn was still alive!

 

CHAPTER 17 - VAMPIRE

 

Late Friday Night

 

Buffy and the Sunnydale four followed Cordelia up the steps into the Hyperion Hotel. She stared bewildered at the former cheerleader. What had her life come to when Cordelia Chase had lighter, brighter blonde hair than she did?

 

Angel was in the lobby, waiting for them. The vampire gazed at her and the next thing she knew they were hugging each other and he was gently patting her back. For a moment it was as if she was safe and protected and could finally cry. But it she knew it was an illusion.

 

She looked up at his face and saw the misery. She had seen it last week, but he had brushed it off and she had been so involved with Spike that she had asked no more questions. But the ageless vampire that she had once loved looked older as if he was slowly being destroyed by grief.

 

The two former lovers stared at each other as Cordelia introduced the Sunnydale set to Gunn, Fred, Lorne and a solidly built young man, dressed like an Angel wannabe who appeared to have the strange name of Groo.

 

Fred looked shy but was the first to talk. "Willow, Cordelia told me you were coming. I'm so glad. We have the technology to track Gavin Park, but I think we'll need some magic to place it on him."

 

Willow was taken aback. "Uh, I don't do magic any more. But Tara does."

 

Tara stepped forward. "I can move small objects. Is it very heavy?"

 

Fred smiled and stepped over to show something in her hand to the Wicca. Willow examined it as well and her eyes lit up. She asked a technical question, Fred replied in perfect geek and it was the birth of a beautiful friendship.

 

"You know much about weapons?" Gunn asked Xander.

 

"Some." Xander didn't bother with the details on how a single evening wearing a military Halloween costume had somehow given him the commando knowledge that had frequently saved the Scoobies necks. The two and Groo went back to the hotel's weapons room.

 

Lorne volunteered to drive Fred, Tara and Willow to the street near the Wolfram and Hart building. With some luck they could plant the tracking microchip on Park so that they could trace his movements tonight. If they failed, Angel could probably tail him, but the microchip would make it easier.

 

That left Buffy and Angel alone, each examining the misery in the other's face.

 

"I'm so sorry Buffy. I wouldn't have had you take Spike back to Sunnydale if I realized that they would go after him like that. I should have known, even as a human, Spike always attracts trouble."

 

Buffy blinked. "Spike. No, they were after Dawn. She called after they broke into the house. She identified the invaders as Wolfram and Hart, but she also said Spike defended her and she was going to escape out of the house." Buffy fought the tears. "I think they killed him. There was so much blood. But they were after Dawn."

 

Angel looked puzzled. "What would Wolfram and Hart want with your sister?"

 

"What everyone wants." Then Buffy realized how little Angel basically knew about her present life. "Dawn is the Key. She can open doors to other dimensions."

 

Angel stared then gripped her shoulder. "What do you mean?" His voice was low and intense.

 

She had been so numb when she first returned from the dead that she had never fully explained about Glory and the Key. They had met shortly after her resurrection and she had barely been coherent. He must have thought that Dawn was some sort of human sacrifice and Buffy died trying to save her. So Buffy explained about the Monks and the Key that they had shaped into a girl. To her, Dawn was her sister, who she loved and would protect. To others, Dawn was an instrument that they would use and discard. "But why would a law firm want to open the way to another dimension?"

 

"They want to get Connor." Angel growled. Seeing Buffy's baffled look, "My son. He's been kidnapped and taken to a hell dimension. The Key must be the only way to reach Quorthoth."

 

Buffy was stunned. "You have a son?"

 

If he had been human, his face would have flushed. But Angel's complexion remained pale. He was silent for a moment then. "By Darla."

 

"But you . . . she . . . you're both vampires." Buffy's voice rose sharply. "You said you could never have children, you could never risk having sex again. You left me because of that. And now . . . How could you? How could you have a child?"

 

He shook his head. "I don't know. It was some sort of prophesy." His face became grim. "Connor is a child of prophesy. He holds power and that's what Wolfram and Hart are all about. Power."

 

Buffy's stomach was sick as she tried to comprehend what Angel had done. Then she remembered, "Darla? You staked Darla a long time ago! She's gone!"

 

The memory was still painful for him. "Those bastards brought her back. They made her human again and then killed her in front of me. They had Drusilla turn her and I was helpless to stop them."

 

"Like they did to Spike. They staked him, made him human and tried to turn him again. Why would they do that?"

 

In a way it surprised Angel. He had finally told Buffy about Connor, and she was more interested in Spike. He had expected to be condemned for having sex with Darla and risking his soul, not to have his deeds dismissed because she was more interested in his vampiric offspring.

 

"If Dawn's the Key, Spike's the Keeper of the Key. It was in all those documents we let Spike take back to Sunnydale."

"He showed us stuff about the Key. But when they mentioned the Keeper of the Key, I thought it was me. I'm her guardian. How could it be Spike?"

 

"Buffy, those papers are about the Order of Aurelius."

 

She blinked, puzzled. He explained. "They are specifically about the vampires of the Master's line. Darla, Spike, James, Drusilla and me among others. It's about vampires and its pretty clear when you go through them that when they mention the Keeper, they are referring to William the Bloody."

 

At least that explained why they had taken both Spike and Dawn. "But why did they stake him? Why bring him back as a human just to turn him back into a vampire?"

 

Angel looked bewildered. "I don't know. With Darla, it was part of their feud with me. They knew it would break me to watch her die. But Spike and I . . . we've spent the last century despising each other. They apparently needed a vampire when they use the Key, but how would making him a fledgling again make him different from the vampire he used to be?"

 

Buffy's eyes widened with shock. "The chip. They did all this so that they could have him be a vampire without a chip. The chip became dust when they staked him. Now, if they turn him, he'll be able to hurt and kill people. They wanted the Keeper of the Key, the vampire with my sister, to be a killer!"

 

* * *

"Dawn isn't here, yet." Angel returned to the vehicles where the Scoobies and his team were waiting. "Things seem to be set up in a bowl between three hills. There are about twenty people in the bowl and six sentries posted on the outskirts. Everyone is heavily armed. We need to take out the sentries first."

 

The night was dark. Tara had floated Fred's almost invisible microchip towards Park when he had emerged from the Wolfram and Hart building and it was buried in his clothes. The tracker had allowed them to follow the lawyer as he rode with a team of security people into the hills an hour north of Los Angeles. They held back while Angel scouted.

 

Gunn, Groo, Angel and Xander were each taking out their assigned sentry. Buffy moved quietly, a hunter stalking her assigned man. She crept through the high grass until she had a clear shot at her target. She gazed through the sites of her crossbow, targeting the sentry for a quick silent kill.

 

The man seemed to sense something wrong. He shifted his gun nervously, staring into the dark. If he were a vampire or a demon, Buffy would have already taken him out. But he was human. She had killed or injured the Knights of Byzantium when they were fighting to capture Dawn, but that felt totally different than shooting this man who was staring nervously into the dark.

 

Finally she gave up and lowered the crossbow. She crept further, then launched herself at the sentry. He whipped the gun around and for one fatal moment, hesitated to shoot the tiny blonde running towards him. The next second she was on him and he was down. Buffy nervously checked the unconscious man's pulse, then tied and gagged him. She took the automatic rifle, praying that she would not have to use the unfamiliar weapon.

 

She gazed down into the bowl. There seemed to be a platform with a stake in the center and piles of what looked like camping supplies lying near it. A dirt trail wove between two of the hills and eventually a dark van drove up to the platform. A group of security people in fatigues and an Asian man in a suit got out of the vehicle. A moment later, they pulled Dawn, bound and gagged from the back.

 

Buffy started to move then stopped when she saw two men in fatigues come down from the hills. Even from this distance, she could recognize Xander and she assumed the man with him was Gunn. She watched as they positioned themselves casually near the platform.

 

Dawn was conscious and struggling. It took two men to carry her to the platform.

 

Xander and Gunn moved. Gunn whipped around, pointing his weapon towards the guards while Xander focused on the men holding Dawn. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she watched as the guards brought the teenager to the two armed men. One bent down and untied her feet and Dawn angrily kicked him in the head. It was startling to see the fighter that her sister had become.

 

The other guard was starting to untie Dawn's arms, when Gunn collapsed. The men he had been holding at bay focused their weapons at Xander. The carpenter whirled, but before he could raise his weapon, he too collapsed. A shot rang out from the hills, then it was quiet. Dawn tried to run, but was tackled by one of the guards. Buffy coldly aimed her weapon at him but darkness descended before she could pull the trigger.

* * *

Buffy woke. She was tied up, lying on the ground. Around her were the tied and unconscious bodies of their sad little rescue force. Only Angel was awake. She could see him trying to move, but he seemed paralyzed.

 

She looked around and saw to her horror that Dawn was tied to the stake in the middle of the platform. Her arm was twisted and tied in front of her and blood poured from a deep gash in her wrist. The teenager was white but still conscious. In front of her, on the edge of the platform was a shimmer of light. A portal had been opened.

 

Several of the guards had gathered the outdoor gear and were loading it into an armored truck. They got in the vehicle and slowly drove it into the shimmering light.

 

Buffy took advantage of the activity to work at her rope. They hadn't recognized her strength when they tied her and she quickly freed herself. Then, when everyone seemed to be distracted, she launched herself at the nearest guard. Wrenching the weapon from the man, she focused the gun at Park, who seemed to be in charge of the operation. She pulled the trigger in a warning shot and when she got their attention, yelled, "Let Dawn go or I kill this son-of-a-bitch!"

 

Everyone froze. Then she heard a single voice quietly say, "Be still," and the automatic weapon fell from her nerveless hands. She was paralyzed. Unable to move, except for her eyes, she frantically scanned the crowd until she saw a small withered woman in black gazing at her in triumph.

The woman leered as Buffy struggled desperately against the paralysis.

 

 

Then Buffy's horror deepened as she saw Spike standing quietly beside the woman. He was a vampire. They had turned him into a vampire without a chip, a monster who could casually kill. He leaned over and murmured something softly to the woman, then looked up at Buffy with feral yellow eyes.

 

Buffy screamed soundlessly. Desperately she gazed at the monster, begging for some sign of the man she had loved. There was none. He turned away from her and once again whispered something to the witch. The two of them watched the portal.

 

The portal was still growing. It was large enough now to show a barren wasteland beyond. Oh God, it's going to need blood to close. I've got to find some way to talk, to tell them to use me, not Dawn. She glanced desperately over at Spike. He was there. He knows that Dawn doesn't have to die. He can tell them to take me.

 

Spike was watching her again. Then, almost casually he turned towards Dawn and strode over to the platform. Buffy writhed in desperation, trying to break free as she heard her sister scream.

 

Spike grabbed Dawn, shoving her roughly against the stake. He wrapped himself around the helpless girl and bit her neck.

 

CHAPTER 18 - PORTAL

 

Late Friday Night

 

As the van drove towards the ceremony, Spike slowly drank the last bag of blood and fought to remember. Physically he was a fledgling with all of hunger and explosive energy that implied. He remembered the last time he had been a fledgling, how he had cut a swath through London, leaving a string of death among the petty aristocracy. He had caused such an uproar that his new family had been forced to hide in a mineshaft in Yorkshire. He felt that violence welling up within him again.

 

But fledglings were stupid. Hell, most vampires were bleeding idiots. "You'll wake up alone, hungry and stupid. Mommy won't be there to feed you and Daddy won't teach you how to think. You'll have eternity to suffer." Dru had voiced his deepest fear, that this time he would be a brainless minion.

 

If he had a chance of rescuing Dawn, he had to think like a Master Vampire. For over 120 years he had hunted humans and had developed an almost uncanny ability to analyze and prey on their weaknesses. He tried to quiet his twitching body and considered the bastards that had captured him.

 

Wolfram and Hart had gone to a hell of a lot of trouble to do all this. Maybe they had needed him to help them find the Key, but that didn't explain why they had dusted him, revived him, and then had him turned again. They had not only used him to obtain the Key but had made sure he was a vampire without a chip. Probably they had read all that rot about him being a Keeper of the Key. If so, they must think they needed him to operate Dawn's talent. He smiled grimly, if they thought they needed him, he had found their weakness. He crumpled the now empty blood bag and contemplated Keys and portals and chipless vampires.

 

* * *

 

As the ride continued, it was getting harder and harder not to drain the little man in the van with him. "I'm still hungry," Spike muttered then watched with amusement as Ferris twitched. Hell, he could smell the fear and hear the man's heart fluttering, begging him to still it. He got up and strolled over to the man, relishing that once again he could inspire terror. Slowly he took the man's wrist and raised it. When his sense of smell told him that the little man had wet his pants, he laughed. "Just checking your watch, mate. It's not midnight yet." All right, he had decided not to kill the man, but it didn't mean that he couldn't play.

 

It was a relief when the van finally rumbled to a stop. He positioned himself to leap out of the vehicle as soon as the doors opened. He probably wouldn't get anywhere, but a little fist and fang action would be lovely. Then his feet tingled slightly and he realized that he wasn't going anyplace. The witch had whammied him before the doors were even open. I'll drink your life's blood, bitch, he promised himself.

 

He could appreciate the irony when the van door finally opened. There was Stanhope, radiating darkest evil, surrounded by crosses and holy water. Did they think he was going be able to attack with his feet magiced to stay still? Maybe they expected him to turn into fog, like Dracula? Then he perked up. They might be afraid that he had mystical mojo. If they read about his past, they knew he was the slayer of Slayers. They regarded him as the Keeper of the Key. They might think he had powers, like Dru minus the babbling insanity.

 

He decided to play with that image. He stood coolly, almost arrogantly, gazing down at the witch from the van. It was a shame he couldn't switch back into his human face, but still he couldn't control his vampire body well enough yet. Meanwhile Ferris climbed out of the vehicle, with wet pants and rubbery knees.

 

"You didn't eat him?"

 

He dropped his workingman's accent for a more educated tone, part William, and part Giles with a touch of Ripper for good measure. "I chose my own prey. I was saving my appetite," he gazed at her jugular, "for other food."

 

She smiled, her eyes remaining dark and cold. "You know why you are here?"

 

"To operate the Key. You need to go to another dimension."

 

"One with no existing portals. Only the Key has the power to create an opening to any dimension."

"Tell me something I don't know."

 

"We have the Key. Her blood creates portals and when her blood stops flowing, the portals close. My employers need to open a portal to a hell world and will not hesitate to kill her."

 

Spike radiated disdain. "I've killed thousands of humans. What's one more?"

 

The witch stared at him suspiciously. "The two of you share a bond shaped by destiny.

 

He shrugged, "I cared for her when I was chipped and when I was human." Neither one applies now."

 

"She is the Key to great power."

 

"Now you're talking. Tell me what's in it for me."

 

" The dimensions with portals to ours have already been explored. But who knows what treasure and powers await us if we are the first to enter a new dimension?"

 

"Keep talking."

 

"The Key can create a new portal with her blood, but it creates portals that expand and threaten the fabric of our world. Only her death can close the portal. Her blood must stop flowing. The prophecies, however, say that the two of you together can repeatedly open dimensions." She stared coldly. "I will use the Key tonight, even if it means her destruction. But I would prefer to have the Key be reusable."

 

"I understand blood. It's a gift." He smirked. "She opens portals, I can close them. Explain to me why we need you."

 

"I have studied portals and dimensions for centuries. I know the locations of treasure beyond counting. There is an elixir of immortality for me and for you, an amulet that will render you forever invulnerable."

 

He nodded slowly. "Let's deal."

 

* * *

 

His nostrils twitched when he smelled the first blood. It was faint and far away. He and the witch had gone to the clearing and he watched everyone set up for the ceremony.

 

There, a new flow of blood someplace else, then another. The cavalry's coming, he thought hopefully. He remained still. Not that he had much choice in the matter. The witch seemed to have fallen for his bluff, but she wasn't taking any chances with a blood-sucking, unchipped vampire. She had allowed him to walk until they made it to the clearing then froze him into position.

 

He watched unmoving as a terrified and fighting Dawn arrived and was carried to the platform. Xander and Gunn came into clearing and he was unable to shout out a warning before Stanhope paralyzed first them, then the other members of Buffy's ill-fated rescue squad. The goons gathered and tied the unconscious bodies, and stacked them like cordwood.

 

Dawn screamed and struggled as she was carried back to the platform and tied. They twisted her arm cruelly so that her wrist was out and exposed.

 

Then Dawn saw him. Her eyes widened in shock and he died inside as he stood by helpless, unable to speak, unable to move while Stanhope slashed the teenager's wrist and arm. He couldn't even switch back to his human visage, but remained an unmoving monster as his Niblet suffered and bled.

 

The portal shimmered and about half the goons in the clearing mounted an armored truck that rumbled through the opening. When they were through, the witch returned to him. "It is time for you to close the portal, vampire."

 

Spike heard the faint scuffle and carefully avoided looking towards the sound. The witch didn't seem to notice anything wrong and mumbled some sort of spell to let him speak. Frantically he tried to keep the witch's attention away from whatever was happening. Then a shot fired and he heard the clear voice of the woman he loved. "Let Dawn go or I kill this son-of-a-bitch!"

 

Bloody hell, Buffy was pointing an automatic rifle at the lawyer. "Shoo . . ." he needed to warn her that the real danger was here, the witch. But before he could yell a warning, Stanhope muttered, "Be still," and the last stand of Buffy Summers was over.

 

The witch glared at him suspiciously. He put on his most innocent look, or at least as innocent as his ridged game face could achieve. "What? I tried to warn you."

 

Buffy was looking at him in horror. He knew she was seeing a soulless monster. What was it that the watchers had taught her? That all he was now was the murderer of her former lover, walking around in the lover's body. I'm still Spike; he wanted to scream to her. I still love you and I'm trying as hard as I can to get us out of this mess. He turned away, numb from the look of betrayal on her face.

 

The witch was looking at him strangely, so he forced himself to chuckle. "Humans keep looking for a man in the monster. I find it useful when I kill them."

 

"Is that what you are going to do with the Key?"

 

"No, I have a much better plan. It will be much more entertaining and useful to let her live."

 

The witch questioned him on his plans. He stonewalled and finally she backed up and freed his upper body. His feet were freed enough to allow him to walk over to Dawn. He experimentally tried to change course, but the witch was still controlling him.

 

It killed him. Dawn was looking at him with big hopeful eyes. I'm not the cavalry, Niblet. They already have arrived and failed. I'm just trying to see if I can get you and your Sis out of this alive.

 

Spike grabbed Dawn, shoving her roughly against the stake. He wrapped himself around the helpless girl and bit her neck. She screamed in terror and surprise.

 

Spike's fangs barely scraped the soft skin of her neck, releasing her as the first blood oozed out. "Keep it up, Lit' Bit," he whispered almost inaudibly. "I need to talk to you and I don’t want the witch to hear me." Dawn struggled, moaning and screaming. He held on to her, his hands flitting down and untying the rope. "I'm going to pretend to drain Willow and Buffy. Then I'm going to create a distraction and you need to run for you life. Understand?"

 

The teenager was still screaming shrilly as she nodded slightly. She gazed over at the growing portal. "I'll shut it, Dawn. You and Buffy are going to survive, I promise." Dawn looked at him, and his heart ached as he saw that somehow, through all the bloody times he had failed her, she still trusted him.

 

"Now Dawn, moan a little and pretend to faint. If they think you are unconscious, they might not watch you as hard." As the girl slumped, Spike turned. He pointed at Willow and called out to the witch, "I'll need blood from her." His feet were released and he was able to stumble over to the unconscious redhead.

 

He tried to shake the girl awake, but she remained under. Only his glaring sire and Buffy were conscious. He held her up and bit deep enough to draw blood. His fledgling hunger made him lust to tear her throat and he was trembling when he let her go.

 

Finally he approached Buffy. She glared at his bloodstained lips with hate.

 

He lifted her and felt the invisible vibrating as the Slayer struggled to regain control of her limp body. "Buffy, forgive me," he whispered. And he bit deep into her neck. The sweet wild taste of her blood filled his mouth and his stomach twisted in nausea.

 

Her body was rigid at first as pain and shock flooded her system. Then her eyes became slightly unfocused as the twisted ecstasy of dying began. The fledgling part of him gibbered in rapture at the blood of a slayer, and he flushed with shame.

 

Finally he had enough. He let go and whispered. "Pretend you're unconscious. I think I have enough Slayer blood in me to get the portal closed. You see, the dream was false. It's just your blood that's going through this portal, not you. You and Red and the Bit are going to survive. Between your strength and Willow's power, you should be able to figure out how to get away from these bastards." He longed to kiss her goodbye, but his lips were stained with her blood and he knew he was too foul to touch.

 

He strode back to the witch, and she stopped him too far away for him to strike her. He gazed at her bitterly. "That's how it's done, bitch." He had one last bluff. "You need the blood of three, the Key and two of her bloodline. Drain them, feed the blood to a vampire and toss it through a portal. Its blood will stop flowing and the portal should close."

 

"Those two are of her bloodline?"

 

"Her sister and her . . . cousin. Check it out, they all live in the same house. Keep all three of them alive and you'll have a reusable Key."

 

"Are you sure this will work?"

 

"Let me go to the portal and I'll show you."

 

Once again his body turned without his control and he approached the glowing ripple of light. He sighed, looking around. Dawn's desperate eyes were the last things he saw on earth before he stepped into the portal.

 

He had meant to scream. He wanted to focus all attention on himself, to take as much attention off the Niblet as possible. But he hadn't realized how the portal would rip and boil his blood and his cry of agony was genuine. Fire twisted through his body as he writhed, trapped in the light. It was forever before blackness finally overwhelmed him and he disappeared.

 

CHAPTER 19 - BATTLE

 

Saturday - Before Dawn

 

 

Spike's limp body crashed to the ground.

 

He had never counted on surviving. He lay unable to move as he tried to cope with the last remnants of shuddering pain.

 

Bloody hell, that was beyond anything he had imagined possible.

 

He didn't know how much time passed before he finally noticed the silence. No, it wasn't silence, there was wind. But there was nothing human. The sounds that the Wolfram and Hart people had made in the clearing were gone.

 

That scared him. What had happened to Buffy? Dawn? He painfully forced his eyes open.

 

He was in a wasteland. If he had needed breath, it would have stopped. All around him stretched barren sand and rocks.

 

Where the hell was he? Then he realized. He was in hell. Stanhope had talked about needing to open a portal to some sort of hell world. Here it was.

 

Panic filled him. Had he been wrong? Had he just stepped through the damn portal into a new world, leaving the portal to continue growing back on earth? Could only Buffy or Dawn close it? He remembered the agony and groaned. Was that what Buffy had felt when she had died last summer? Would she have to go through that again because he had failed?

 

He staggered upright and looked around frantically. There was no sign of the portal he had passed through. He was trapped on a hell world with no way of discovering what had happened to the woman he loved.

 

* * *

 

Buffy lay paralyzed, still recovering from the shock. Her neck throbbed and she felt slightly dizzy from the blood loss.

 

Dawn had run. Somehow her sister had gotten free. She heard the yelling and sounds of pursuit and she knew that the witch wouldn't let her get far. Buffy's eyes frantically scanned the unconscious bodies of her friends and Angel's team. They made a formidable fighting force, yet all their strength and power was brought to nothing by a withered little woman who could whisper, "Be still."

 

Dawn must have escaped when Spike had entered the portal. Her mind flinched when she remembered the horrible image of the portal flaring with blinding intensity as he writhed, trapped in it light. He had yelled, then his voice turned to a growl that rose in pitch as the pain rose beyond endurance.

 

She remembered her own pain when she had jumped in Glory's portal last summer. It had been a relief to die. But he was a vampire, already dead and the torment seemed to take forever. For several moments he had vanished in the blinding light. Then his body had fallen to the ground, silent at last.

 

The witch had stepped over to the corpse, staring at it curiously. Finally she had kicked it and watched it roll over limply. She had frowned and only then noticed that Dawn was gone.

 

Buffy looked over at Spike's body. Somehow the light had burned off his game face and it was the pale face of the human she loved. A hundred images ran through her mind. Spike's blissfully goofy face when she had led him to the shower. Watching him squint and run his hands through his hair as he tried to study the ancient scrolls. The look on his face as they lay in the grass on their picnic and he had finally made love to her as a man. Other images filtered through her mind. Their nights together and the ferocious, powerful sex that had terrified and thrilled her. Her vampire and the tenderness he had tried to hide behind the swagger of the Big Bad.

 

But it was the last image that haunted her. The monster, the walking corpse of the man that had loved her so sweetly only two days before, watching her with feral eyes. He had stalked over to her sister and her best friend and bitten them. Then he had violated her, tearing her neck, draining her.

 

She had heard his broken whisper. "It's just your blood that's going through this portal, not you. You and Red and the Bit are going to survive." And she had seen the monster's face, ridged and twisted, with bloodstained lips and tears in his golden eyes.

 

Tears were running down her face. They blurred her vision and she almost didn't see him move.

 

Her frozen body didn't permit her to gasp. The fall through the portal should have destroyed him. Instead she saw him slowly move his head and look around totally bewildered. Suddenly she remembered when Angel had closed the portal of Acathla. His blood had opened it and she had had to stab him and drive him back into the glowing opening to close it. He hadn't died closing a portal like she had. The vampire had survived and returned, but the horrors of the hell dimension had driven him mad. She watched Spike apprehensively.

 

He as was silent as a wild animal, sizing up its surroundings. Then he spotted Stanhope and his human face vanished. With impossible vampire speed, his eyes turned golden and he pounced. Before the witch could speak or react, he was on her, ripping her throat into a gory mass and spitting her blood back into her face.

 

And Buffy could move. Angel roared and everyone was awakening. Tara was whispering and ropes were falling free. Gru and Angel tore their own ropes off and charged into the confused mass of goons. Buffy danced forward, kicking the gun out of a guard's hands, adrenaline wiping out any weakness from blood loss.

 

Xander lunged forward and picked up the gun as soon as it touched the ground. The puffy face of the carpenter seemed to have hardened and he held the automatic competently as he backed up to protect the two Wiccas. One of the thugs shot at Spike twice before the vampire wrenched the weapon from him and smashed his face in. The vampire tossed the weapon aside and Gunn grabbed it. By this time Buffy had dashed over and grabbed the lawyer by his lapels.

 

A series of five shots rang out and everyone looked up. Two guards stepped forward, dragging a struggling Dawn with them. One shot his gun again to get their attention. The other held his weapon firmly at her sister's temple. "Stop now or we kill the girl."

 

Park looked down at the Slayer and smirked. "I suggest you and your team drop your weapons and back off." When Buffy hesitated, he called out, "Shoot the girl someplace non-lethal." Immediately one of the guards shot Dawn's foot and she shrieked in pain. Buffy blanched and let go. She glanced over at Spike, afraid he would be too far gone to stop, but the vampire was frozen. His golden eyes blazed and he clinched and unclenched his fists.

 

The other members of the team slowly, reluctantly backed up. The guard shot again, this time missing Dawn's foot by inches, and even Gunn and Gru surrendered their weapons. They stood, lined up and helpless as the guards released Dawn and she crumpled to the ground.

 

Park watched their surrender, a look of cold satisfaction on his face. "Kill them," he ordered quietly.

 

The guards looked at each other in confusion. Dawn lifted her pale face and stared, her eyes glaring with pain and hate. Finally one stepped forward and fired. Gru's chest exploded in a welter of blood and he collapsed. Cordelia shrieked and threw herself on him. Next the guard turned his gun on Buffy.

 

But Cordelia's cries were insignificant compared to Dawn's shriek. The teenager suddenly stood up, glowing with a harsh, eerie green light. Her hands were cupped in front of her, holding the blood that hemorrhaged from her foot. Her eyes glowed with the same intense green. She screamed with hate and opened her cupped hands. The blood, instead of falling to the ground, began to spin, growing brighter and brighter.

 

Suddenly it was no longer blood, but a growing portal, suspended in the air. But unlike the other portals that stayed in one place, this swooped and engulfed the guard that had pointed the gun at Buffy. Then it swirled backwards and the two men that had held Dawn ducked and scattered.

 

Angel was the first to move, his face twisting into ridges and fangs. The rest followed. A grim faced Xander picked up the fallen automatic and coldly began shooting. Buffy raced to the lawyer in command of the operation, but had to swerve to avoid the swirling portal.

 

Spike reached him first and lifted him off the ground. The lawyer struggled frantically, and then Spike chuckled and held him until they were face to face. "This time it's your turn to die." As the lawyer gasped and whimpered, Spike sank his teeth into the man's neck and began to drain his blood. He almost moaned at the sweetness of human blood in his mouth again.

 

Then he opened his eyes and saw Buffy's horrified face. He choked, and stopped drinking. The man was bloody and pale; his eyes glazed with terror as drool ran down the corner of his mouth. But he was still alive. In disgust Spike threw the lawyer into the spinning portal and with a wail of despair the man disappeared.

 

Buffy stood looking at the vampire with his fierce eyes and bloody mouth desperately searching for any trace of the man she had loved. Only the monster showed as he watched as the portal lifted and spun to the side. There were screams as guards ducked and scattered. Spike turned, his face lit with the joy of violence. "Got your back, Slayer!"

 

He was a monster again, but she remembered when he had stopped fighting rather than endanger her sister. "We need to get to Dawn!"

 

He grinned, fangs gleaming, then dived at the nearest guard. Her presence was obviously holding him back, now. Instead of biting, he punched and kicked them, Jackie Chan on steroids. Normally he liked to watch her fight, stood back and entered when he knew she needed help. But these were humans, his prey, and he enjoyed hitting them far more than she did.

 

She watched his face morph back to human as they reached Dawn. Then Buffy had eyes only for Dawnie. Her sister's eyes lost the deep green glow and her face crumpled as she lunged forward and grabbed Buffy and wept like a terrified child. The two of them sank to the ground in the turmoil of fighting, clutching each other. After two long days of terror, the Slayer had finally saved her sister. Spike stood over them like a fierce watchdog as they wept.

 

Xander's approach was the first clue that the last of Wolfram and Hart's goons had fled and the fighting was over. The hard soldier face was beginning to fade back into the countenance of a very ordinary, very tired man who had faced death for his friends. The Wiccas joined and Tara looked over Dawn's injuries.

 

"Can you help her?" The blood was still flowing from the arm and the foot and Buffy was terrified.

 

Tara turned towards her lover. A moment of doubt flickered through Willow's face; then at the almost invisible nod from Tara, she reached forward and touched the injured foot. Tara held her other hand and Willow bowed her head. Her eyes remained clear and focused and the blood stopped flowing. She looked up, almost apologetically. "I can help with the pain, but I don't think it's safe to do any more. I'm sorry, Buffy. Tara is weak from trying to protect everyone and it's so difficult for me to tell when I'm going too far." Her eyes were wet and Buffy pulled her into a grateful hug.

 

It was dissolving into a group hug and Spike, standing over them, guarding them, felt dizzy from the smell of so much blood. They were the Scooby gang, the gang he had fought with, and now they smelt like food. He had lost his humanity and was a monster again. The fledgling part of him wanted to continue to rip and tear, to kill the irritating Harris, to drain the sweet ripeness of Tara. He groaned and staggered away.

 

He still ached from the portal. He sank to the ground, exhausted, bewildered and desperately hungry for the blood that surrounded him.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. It was Peaches and it must have been a sign of exhaustion that he couldn't muster up a snotty comment for his grandsire. "How long was I gone?"

 

"It didn't even look as if you went anywhere. You seemed to flicker. How long was it for you?"

 

"Days. I thought I was trapped there."

 

"Time moves differently in other dimensions."

 

Spike looked around at the bodies. There weren't many and the portal seemed to be cleaning them up, sucking them to a different world. "How do you stand being surrounded by all this food? How do you keep from killing them when they trust you?"

 

"The soul. It's still hard sometimes with people I hate."

 

"I don't have the chip anymore. And they took my soul when they killed me. Everything feels different."

 

"Dru?"

 

He shook his head. "Not really. She just stood by and let her minions drain me." He looked up and saw sympathy and understanding in his grandsire's eyes.

 

Spike felt Buffy's presence before he saw her. Awkwardly he wiped the blood from his mouth before he turned and looked up at her. He could see the hesitation and the deep distrust in her eyes. As a newly created vampire, he shouldn't care what a human thought. Instead, it hurt.

 

"Dawn wants you."

 

"Right, the Niblet." Buffy didn't come near him as he struggled to his feet. His legs were weak and rubbery and it was hard to walk. He could feel her watching him and he wondered if she though he had become such a monster that he would try to hurt the child. But then, last time Buffy had seen him without a chip or a soul, he had tried to murder her and her friends. Does she think I'm back to that?

 

Still, everything was worth while when he saw Dawn. Humanity had once again turned to happy meals on legs, but his Summers women were still the lights of his dark world. He may have lost everything, but at least they had managed to rescue his Lil' Bit. He got on his knees and held the child close to his unbeating heart. "I knew you would save me," she whispered. If he had been a blithering git, he would have wept for joy, but instead he quietly held her and let her sob with relief.

 

Finally Dawn looked over at the portal she had created. It had swallowed the last of Wolfram and Hart's forces and hung pulsing and growing over the bloodstained platform. "I'm so sorry. I didn't even know what I was doing. I just had to stop them from shooting Buffy." She looked at him, her eyes troubled. "Can we close it?"

 

CHAPTER 20 - THE MONSTER AND THE PORTAL

 

Saturday Morning

 

Spike watched the growing portal and groaned internally. But he kept his face straight. "No problem, Niblet. I'll just pop in and close it."

 

He gave the teenager a quick hug and got up. The Slayer was watching him. Probably guarding her sister from the soulless monster. "Buffy," he nodded towards the portal.

 

She frowned slightly, then kissed her sister's forehead. "I'll be back in a minute, Dawnie. Then we'll get you to a hospital."

 

"What is it, Spike?" she asked as they walked away from the group. Her face was unreadable and she was carefully keeping her distance from him.

 

Spike was staring at the portal, gauging it as it grew. "I'm going to need more blood, Slayer." He glanced back at her nervously.

 

Buffy touched the still tender bite on her neck. "You just bit me a little while ago."

 

"Your time." He met her eyes. "I've been gone for days."

 

Her eyes widened. "You . . .?" She remembered the momentary flicker. "I didn't see you for a moment but I thought it was just a trick of the light."

 

"No." He shook his head. "I thought closing that other portal would be like it was with Glory only this time I'd take your place. I'd drink your blood; jump through and it would be me that was gone. This time you'd survive."

 

"Instead it was more like how it was with Peac . ." He corrected himself, remembering the grim-faced girl who had been forced to send her lover into hell to save the world. "How it was with Angel. Back when we first teamed up. His blood let him pull the sword out of Acathla, and his blood was needed to close the opening to the hell world. He went in, the opening closed and then, bingo, he shows up again like a bad penny."

 

"He was in hell, tortured for centuries."

 

Spike winced. "I lucked out. It was just some sort of weird world with glow-in-the-dark crawdads and lots of critters with fangs. I sort of fit right in. Not much was edible but, hey, no torture." He eyed the glowing portal uneasily. "I wonder what the Bit ordered up this time."

 

He sighed. "Like I said before, Buffy. If I'm going to close it, I need Dawn's blood. She opened it, her blood will close it."

 

"You can't take Dawn's. She's lost so much already."

 

"So have you, Buffy."

 

"I'm the Slayer, I'll heal."

 

He stared at her intently. Finally, "Go tell the Scooby club. I don't fancy them staking me when I bite you."

 

Of course, Harris couldn’t stay put. He stormed over as soon as Buffy told them. "You'll kill her if you take any more." When Spike looked up at the still growing portal, the carpenter sputtered. "All right you damn blood sucker. If you need some, take mine."

 

Even through his bone deep weariness, Spike could appreciate the humor of the situation. "Sorry, Whelp. You can not imagine how truly I'd like to oblige. You are the original nummy treat. But I need the Key's blood. And Dawn and the Slayer are the only two that have it."

 

He turned towards Buffy and could have wept at her pale drawn face. "I'm so sorry, luv." She stared at him, her face unreadable. Only two days ago he had been a man and her eyes had glowed with love when she looked at him. Now she bowed her head and presented her neck to a demon.

 

"Close your eyes," he whispered. He shifted back into game face and bit deep into her neck. She whimpered, then clutched him tightly as he drank.

 

He could feel her life weakening. For an insane moment, the fledgling in him lusted to drain more, to clutch her to his chest, feed her his blood and own her through eternity. He struggled briefly with the monster he had become, then sighed and released her. She was unconscious. He licked the wound, letting the saliva halt the bleeding. She would live.

 

He looked up and saw Xander glaring down. The carpenter knelt and felt her fluttering pulse. "You almost killed her, you bastard."

 

"It wasn't enough blood. I can't close it Harris." Spike looked around frantically. Then he realized what he had to do. "Bloody hell." He turned towards the Whelp. "Harris, get Red. We are going to need her help."

 

Xander hesitated, reluctant to leave his friend with the soulless killer. Then he read the despair in the demon's face and got up. Within seconds Willow was bent over the Slayer.

 

Spike didn't give her a chance to speak. "I need more blood, Red. The portal needs the blood of the Key and if I take any more from Buffy, it’ll kill her." He gazed at Willow directly. "I'm going to need Dawn's blood." Willow gasped, and he continued. "You got to knock her out, Red. I can't stand to hurt her and the pain feels almost sexual to the victim. I can't do that to the Bit." The vampire looked at the Wicca desperately. "Please, Red. I don't know if I can do this."

 

He was suddenly reminded of Willow back in the days when he had first been chipped. Her face was filled with understanding and compassion and the quiet strength that had led them and held them together during the dark days of summer. "We can handle it Spike. But we have to tell Dawn. It's her choice."

 

They returned to Dawn and Willow explained. "Is Buffy alright? Is she hurt?"

 

"She'll live Niblet. But it's dangerous to take any more blood from her."

 

"Then take mine. It's my fault. I opened it."

 

The years seemed to fall away from her and he could see the strong Summers woman she would become. She took the hands of each of the Wiccas and fell into a quiet sleep. Spike refused to mark her neck, so he bit down into the already injured wrist and began to drain her blood.

 

He gagged several times, sickened by what he was doing. The monster in him reeled in wonder that he could feel shame at doing what vampires were designed to do. But this was his Niblet. He had sworn to protect her and instead was feeding off her.

 

He had enough. He wasn't sure how he knew, but it was enough. He licked the wound and heard a snort of contempt from Harris. He rose and stared at the carpenter. "Get them to a hospital."

 

He was strong now, his body humming from the Slayer's blood. Without a backward glance he strode over and threw himself into the fire of the portal.

 

* * *

 

After the blazing pain of the portal, the cold was almost a relief. Spike lay on the snow and slowly tried to recover.

 

He looked around, but there wasn't much to see. No hell fires, no demons with pitchforks, so far, so good. Although if there had been demons, he probably could have made friends and been back in the local equivalent of a pub. It's not like he had dropped into hell with a soul.

 

It was dark. Overhead were low clouds, blocking any sight of the sun, moon or stars. Below him and all around him was cold swirling snow. The wind whipped and stung. He wished he had brought his duster. Hell, he wished he had brought a fur coat or the pelt of Nanook of the North.

 

He wondered how long he would stay. If he was right, passing through the portal stopped the blood flow and killed humans and made unlife miserable (to put it mildly) for vampires. Ultimately, however, vampires reappeared back on earth. At least Peaches had and he had the last time. So if he stuck it out, he would probably end up back with Buffy. Happy ending.

 

Of course he didn't like that story of Angel being stuck in the hell dimension for centuries. Fortunately he wasn't in a hell dimension.

 

It was only later, when he had a lot of time to think that he remembered Dante's Divine Comedy had described the lowest level of hell as cold. It was a cold, isolated place where you couldn't even cry because the tears froze your eyes shut. And in the center, a monstrously huge Satan was frozen, gnawing on Judas and two other doomed sinners.

 

Of course he wasn't in hell, he was just stuck someplace cold. Maybe it was the North Pole of some planet or the giant snow dimension. Still, if he noticed some large bloke snacking on sinners, he'd head the other way.

 

He waited to return to Buffy. And waited.

 

* * *

 

"Buffy."

 

Buffy had been drifting off by her sister's bed. Angel had found them a doctor who owed him a favor and wouldn't ask too many questions about vampire bites and gun shot wounds. Dawn's foot was set in a cast and both of them had received blood transfusions. It only took a few hours for Buffy to recover but it was two days before the doctor said that Dawn was in good enough shape to go home today. Xander was coming by to pick them up.

 

She looked up and saw Angel. She smiled.

 

"Is Dawn OK?"

 

The Slayer nodded and stepped outside the room so that they could talk without waking her sleeping sister.

 

"Spike?"

 

"He hasn't returned. I waited for him until it was almost dawn, and stopped by tonight as well, but there's no sign of him. At least the portal is closed."

 

Buffy remembered the long months when she thought Angel was gone forever. She looked at him almost curiously. Their love had been so deep back then. Now, well, Spike was right, they weren't friends. Once the passion had died, she and Angel no longer had much in common. But she knew she could depend on him. Part of her would always care.

 

"How's Cordelia?"

 

"Still pretty bad. She loved Gru."

 

"Does she know how much you care about her?"

 

He blinked, then smiled ruefully. "No. For her it's just friendship."

 

He looked down at the tiny blond. "And what are you going to do about Spike if he does come back? It was pretty obvious last time I saw him that he loves you."

 

She couldn't meet his eyes. "He was human. It was easy to love him back. But I don't know what to do now. He doesn't have a soul or a chip. But you saw him. He didn't even hesitate jumping into the portals, even when he thought it would kill him. If it wasn't for him, we'd all be dead."

 

"He always was good in a fight." Angel shook his head at the memory of the reckless young vampire he had known. "It was just difficult to get any peace when he was around. If there wasn't a mob coming after us, he would go out and stir one up."

 

"Look, Buffy." The vampire reached into his pocket and took out a small folded piece of paper. "I don't know if you want to use this, but. . ." He gave it to her and she unfolded it and began to read. She looked up at him with wide surprised eyes.

 

CHAPTER 21 - RETURN

 

A Sunday night

 

It was strange. The fire of the portal did not melt ice.

 

Spike noted this in a rather detached fashion. The portal burned. After an eternity of cold numbness, the pain was almost welcome.

 

Time passed.

 

The ice that had encased him for so long was melting. He could no longer see so he had no idea where he was. Or what time it was. It would be ironic if, after waiting so long to return, he was reduced to a big pile of dust on his first morning back.

 

Not much he could do about it. He was too blind to find shelter and didn't have the strength to move into it, even if he found it. Only the mind still seemed to work and unfortunately that had never quit. Long after the cold and ice had blinded him and the hunger left him too weak to move, he had remained totally conscious.

 

At some point the ice covering his eyes finally thawed and with a sigh of relief he was able to close his eyes. He wasn't quite sure if the wetness on his cheeks was tears or melting snow. He didn't care.

 

As the thawing continued, his sense of smell began to return. He could smell grass, trees and the distant dawn. He wondered if he could use his sense of smell to locate the trees. If he could just find the strength to move, he might be able to crawl into the shade before the sunlight destroyed him.

 

He couldn't find the strength.

 

His mouth began to water and he realized he was detecting the faint smell of blood. He inhaled deeply, too weak even to switch into game face.

 

"There's something here."

 

Humans. Prey. He listened as they came closer.

 

"What is it?"

 

Women's voices.

 

"It's rather hard to tell."

 

A male voice. He inhaled the odor of food, then realized the smell was vaguely familiar. They were both happy meals on legs, but he had once known them. Then a new odor, vampire, Angel. He felt someone turn him over.

 

"It doesn't even look human!"

 

Angel's voice was soft, "It's Spike."

 

"What happened to him?" That must be the female he had met an eternity ago at Angel's office. Frank?

 

"He hasn't eaten in a very long time. I've never seen a case this bad, but starving can't kill us. He's still alive. Fred, hand me one of the blood bags." Spike felt Angel prop him into a sitting position, his back against a rock. Then a straw was inserted into his mouth. He struggled to suck.

 

"Good grief," his sire's voice sounded torn between exasperation and sympathy. "Here, Cordy, hold his head." Spike choked as some of the blood was poured directly into his mouth. He swallowed and lost himself in the feeding.

 

 

He could feel some strength returning. With it, his senses sharpened and he became painfully aware of Cordelia's pulse, the blood rushing through her system. He was drinking pig's blood, but he was surrounded by human blood. He grabbed the human's wrist.

 

Sanity returned. He had endured pain and isolation for an untold time in order to return to Buffy. If he bit a human, if he tried to return to killing, the Slayer was lost to him. His hand shook as he felt Cordelia's pulse against his skin, then he let go.

 

His voice was a weak croak. "Get away."

 

"What did he say?"

 

He struggled weakly. "No chip. Get away."

 

Angel grabbed his wrists. He was so bloody weak he couldn't even struggle. "Gunn, there are some ropes in the car. We should tie him up. He's weak now, but when he gains his strength, he could be a problem."

 

 

The nausea struck when they were tying him up. After so long without food, Spike's stomach rebelled. The detached observer in him, the portion of his mind that had watched as he froze, starved, then burned in the portal, wryly noticed that he managed to thoroughly spray his sire. It was some time during this very messy process that he finally passed out.

 

* * *

 

The raging hunger woke him up. He tried to see where he was but his eyes still weren't working. If pain and itchiness were any measure, his body was starting to heal, but he was still weak. He cautiously managed to sit up, then held his head as the world spun.

 

He was on something soft, a bed. His sense of smell was working well enough for him to finally identify his surroundings. He was in Angel's hotel, the Hyperion. That explained the shackle on his leg. Trust his grandsire to distrust him so much that he was chained up before he could even walk.

 

Time passed slowly, hunger making every moment agony. Eventually he heard a door open, then close. More time passed. The door opened again and a warm mug was pressed into his hands. He held it tightly, absorbing the strange sensation of warmth. Finally he tried to bring it to his mouth and hissed in frustration as his hands shook and the blood splashed on his chest. He felt a cool hand steady the cup and lift it to his lips. He must be in sad shape if Angel was taking up nursing duties. Then he lost himself in the sweetness of the blood.

 

The cup was empty. For a moment he felt like Oliver Twist, "Please sir, I want some more," but a queasy sensation told him he was going to have trouble keeping even the little bit he had already drank. He groped to the side of the bed and placed the cup on the table.

 

"You couldn't see it, could you?"

 

He gritted his teeth at the sound of pity in the other vampire's voice. "Right, I don't get to see your lovely face either. I'll survive."

 

The Poofster didn't rise to the bait.

 

"How did you find me? Why did you bring me here and," Spike shook the chain, "put this on?"

 

"We figured you would return so we monitored the portal area. When it went off, we returned to find you. As for the chain, who knew what you would be like after a being stuck in a hell world? You're violent enough when you're your normal self."

 

Spike snorted. "Right, I'm bloody terrifying." He heard movement, then water running.

 

A moment later he was given a warm washcloth. "Here, wash the blood off. I'll get you another shirt." The door opened and closed again.

 

He wiped his face. It felt like a skull. He remembered two years ago. . "You know what happens to vampires who don't get to feed? Living skeletons mate. Like famine pictures from those dusty countries, only not half as funny." He was a damn mummy.

 

He hated being helpless. And it was worse being helpless around the Poofster. Angelus, his grandsire would have preyed on his vulnerability, indulging in his old habits of inflicting mental and physical torture. But Angel was worse. Angel pitied him.

 

He growled. After endless numbness, anger felt good. He let his demon flow through him. Angel might pity him, but he wouldn't have chained him unless he still felt some fear. He knew what Spike was capable of when he wasn't crippled by a bloody chip. A bloody killer. A force to be feared. A monster.

 

So why hasn't he staked me? Why hasn't he set me on fire, like he did Darla and Dru? He could have just left me alone to die in the sun?

 

The door opened and something soft hit him. A t-shirt. He tried to take off his bloodstained shirt and almost sobbed in frustration as he floundered, too bloody weak to get untangled. His grandsire gently helped. His new shirt was on and he sat, as mortified as when he had been in the wheelchair and Drew had brought him puppies while Angelus watched.

 

The older vampire noticed his humiliation and after a moment, turned to leave.

 

Spike heard the door open again and reluctantly spoke. He had to know. "How are the girls? Are Buffy and Dawn alright?"

 

His grandsire was silent. He could sense something was off. Spike was suddenly fearful. "What's wrong?" The continued silence panicked him. "For God's sake, Angel. What happened?"

 

"Buffy's been shot."

 

"No. Dawn was the one they shot. It was her foot. Buffy wasn't hurt except for the blood loss."

 

"Spike, that was almost three months ago."

 

The vampire was still as death.

 

"Somebody named Warren shot Buffy.

 

"Warren!"

 

Yes, he's apparently one of three . . .

 

Spike's voice was harsh. "I know who the bugger is. How badly did he hurt her?" His voice cracked. "Is she alive?"

 

Angel shook his head. "I don't know everything that happened. Cordy and Willow e-mail each other and for a while there we didn't hear anything. Apparently Warren shot Buffy and Tara. Willow was able to save Buffy but not her lover."

 

"I'll kill the bugger!"

 

"Willow already did. She's with Giles in England now."

 

Willow a killer? Tara dead? Buffy shot and hurt? "Bloody hell! Bloody, soddin' hell. I should have been there."

 

Angel looked up, surprised at the anguish in the younger vampire's voice. "You couldn't have done anything, anyway. He attacked Buffy during the day." He was startled when Spike winced, his sightless eyes filled with tears.

 

He didn't know how to comfort him. And how odd was it that he would want to comfort Spike of all beings. "She's fine now. Willow wasn't very clear what happened, but apparently Buffy recovered from her wound."

 

Spike's voice was bitter. "She's been shot. Her best friend turned into a murderer. Willow and Giles are both in England. You didn't know Tara, but she was like a mum to Dawn when Buffy was dead and now she's dead. The only thing that kept the Slayer alive so long has been her family and friends and everything has fallen apart. And you think she's fine? You're a soddin' idiot!"

 

He wanted to throw something, break the furniture in his fury. Instead he was too weak to even stand. He clenched and unclenched his fists, staring into the darkness. He didn't even hear the door close.

 

* * *

 

Time passed. He healed. Gradually the darkness lightened. He regained the strength in his legs and could pace restlessly back and forth.

 

He had learned patience when trapped in the ice but it seemed to be deserting him. Buffy was patrolling alone with no one to guard her back. He had to get back. Even if she rejected him again for losing his soul, he had to be there to try and help.

 

Sometime during the fourth day he dissected the mattress. He was fashioning a key from the box springs so that he could pick the lock on his chain when Lorne wandered in with another cup of blood.

 

He tensed, watching the green demon. "Going to try and stop me, mate?"

 

"How ya' doing, Sparky. Just brought you a little something. Thought you might need a nip before the trip."

 

Spike watched the demon suspiciously before accepting the mug. He did a double take. "Wheetabix!" Lorne smiled blandly. "How did you know about . . . How much did you read when I sang?"

 

"I didn't scan the small print, but some of your recipes for blood drinks intrigued me. Professional weakness. I used to run the smoothest demon bar in this dark and dirty city"

 

Against his better judgement, Spike found himself relaxing. "You like the recipes?"

 

"Personally, not my style. But I've think we have a winner with the burba weed and blood combo. Of course I use O-positive, smoother on the palate."

 

Spike did not need to hear about human blood while swilling pig's blood with chunks. But Lorne made him smile and it had been a long time since that had happened. "Try it out on anyone I know?"

 

Lorne's eyes twinkled. "Angel. Makes the big bruiser purr like a kitten. Especially that ketchup and crumbled Reese's Pieces number."

 

That did it. Spike spewed his pig's blood. "That was a recipe the Niblet made up as a joke." The picture of the broody prince of hair gel slurping up candied blood and ketchup was too much and the two demons chortled till they choked.

 

"Listen. Can the escape routine and let me bring Mr. Sweet Tooth in for a tête-à-tête. The two of you need to mellow things out. Not that chains aren't your look, but you need to get home."

 

Spike found himself agreeing, then realized he had been had. He considered continuing his escape plan before Angel saw the mattress, then decided to give Lorne a chance to settle things. The demon was smooth and it was amusing to watch him at work. Besides if the Poofster got too pompous, Spike would just think of the ketchup fetish.

 

Lorne reappeared with Angel. Better yet, he tossed over a can of beer. "Thought this might ease the banter."

 

"Try bringing a six-pack," The demon just smiled and left him with his sire.

 

Angel was drinking from a cup. As he settled into the chair opposite the bed, he took a deep drink and looked enormously satisfied. Spike inhaled deeply and nearly lost it when he smelt the chocolate and peanut butter.

 

"You look more cheerful. Feeling better?"

 

"Good enough to go home now. Thanks for saving me, again, but Sunnydale calls." Spike took a deep drink of the beer. "It's been fun, but let's just unlock the chain and call it quits."

 

Spike noticed his grandsire hesitating. Strange. For over a century the balance of power had shifted between the two of them. Angelus had made his life as a fledgling a bloody nightmare. He had showered contempt on the wretched vampire with a soul. Angelus.2 had returned the favor when he had been stuck in the wheelchair. He had tortured Angel over the Ring of Amaras. By rights, Angel should be on top now. He owed his continued existence to his grandsire and between the chain and his current weakness, he was bloody helpless.

 

But Angel was hesitating. Finally, "I can't let you go out and murder people."

 

"Fine, I won't eat people. If you don't believe me call in the demon and I'll give him a chorus or two." Seeing his grandsire's skeptical expression, "I want to help Buffy. She disapproves of my natural diet. Hell, when I was human she had me eating vegetables."

 

"You?"

 

"Me. Broccoli."

 

The older vampire nodded. "Lorne will be glad to help." He was staring intently at his cup and he chewed on his lower lip. Spike frowned trying to figure out what was coming. His sire wanted something and it must be big.

 

Finally, "Spike, before you go . . . could you tell me about where you were?"

 

"Damned if I know. It felt like the North Pole only without St. Nick and the elves to snack on. No food."

 

If a vampire could grow paler, Angel did. "Is that the last hell world you were in or the first?" Strange, he looked scared.

 

"The second. The first was no picnic, but at least there was stuff to eat. Unfortunately most of the beasties wanted to eat me first, but it was sort of entertaining if you like a good fight. "

 

Angel swallowed. "Could a human survive?"

 

"Maybe. They'd have to be tough. Why are you asking?"

 

"I think that's where my son is. I told you he was kidnapped. He was taken to Quorthoth, a hell dimension. There's not supposed to be any way to get there. I think that's what all this has been about. Wolfram and Hart want to control Connor because the prophesies say he is important to the final outcome between Good and Evil. They used Dawn to get to where Connor is."

 

Spike felt sick in his gut. He knew what was coming. "And?"

 

Angel's eyes were dark and anguished. "I have to find my son. I need you and Dawn to reopen that portal and let me look for him."

 

"Do you have any idea what you are asking?" Spike's voice was low and dangerous.

 

"I'm asking Dawn to bleed. I'm asking for Dawn or Buffy to risk their lives being drained by an unchipped vampire. I'm asking you to go back to a hell world." Spike couldn't bear to look at the pain in his grandsire's face. "But he's just a baby. He must be so scared. I have to find him."

 

Spike closed his eyes and sighed. The future was plain. Dawn would hear of the frightened baby in hell and agree. They would figure out how to reopen the portal to Quorthoth. Then good old Spike would get to jump in and close the soddin' opening and spend a few days fighting beasties that wanted to eat him.

 

That was the real danger to the Key. Maybe there would be evil beings, human and monster, that tried to capture and use her. But if she ever perfected that little man-eating portal trick she had used on Wolfram and Hart, she would be able to defend herself from the bad guys. But she was a Summers woman with the tender Summers' heart. She would help Angel find his son. She would hear other sob stories from other desperate needy people. And she would help.

 

And when she did, he would be left having to close the portals. It was either that or watch Dawn or Buffy die.

 

He was well and truly screwed.

 

He opened his eyes, looking at his desperate sire. "You'll have to ask Buffy and Dawn. It's their decision. You know them, they'll say yes." His smile was sad. "I'm just the clean-up guy."

 

He couldn't stand Angel's look of gratitude. "Are we done? "Cause I have places to go and people to ki . . . er . . . help."

 

They called in Lorne, Spike sang and Lorne gave him the seal of approval. When Angel offered to drive him to Sunnydale, he refused. So instead they took him to the bus station and he climbed aboard the bus back to his home and his Slayer.

 

CHAPTER 22 - CHOICE

 

WEDNESDAY NIGHT

 

Buffy assessed the vampire doubtfully. It was very new, the dirt from the grave still flaking off its clothes, mud caking his lips. His hands were still torn and bloody. She winced and unconsciously flexed her hands that still bore the scars from her own desperate climb from a grave. Was the mud in his mouth from when it had screamed in panic and bewilderment?

 

At one time he had been a strong young man with the sun-bleached hair and lean muscles of a swimmer. He was strong enough to be dangerous. Still, he was obviously confused. Reluctantly she nodded.

 

Dawn grinned and surged forward. The vampire turned. After gazing at the teenager, he stumbled forward. He was inexperienced but he recognized food. Just as he almost had her, Dawn whirled and kicked. Buffy's nervously clutched her stake. The kick was a little slow. A more experienced vampire would have grabbed the girl's foot and thrown her. But this vampire was too new and clumsy. He fell backward, a surprised and betrayed look on his face. He landed on his back and Dawn was on him.

 

Buffy gritted her teeth. Faster Dawnie! You have to move faster. Dawn plunged the stake into its chest and - whoosh - one less vampire in Sunnydale. The girl looked up amid the falling dust, her eyes glowing with pride.

 

Another vampire. Buffy's senses tingled and she whirled. And heard the clapping.

 

"Looking good there, Niblet."

 

"Spike!"

 

The teenager flew into his arms, almost knocking the vampire off the tombstone, where he had been sitting, watching the action. He grinned and hugged her, his face tender.

 

"Did you see me dust that vamp? Buffy lets me patrol with her and I'm getting pretty good, aren't I?"

 

He looked up and Buffy could see that he had been just as scared as she had been, watching Dawn learn the deadly art of fighting monsters. "Can't argue with success can we? But if Big Sis lets me, I'll spar with you and show you some secrets of the trade. We'll work on speed."

 

"I'll whip your . . ."the teenager's eyes twinkled, "arse."

 

"My, my and you kiss Justin with that mouth?"

 

"Justin is so yesterday. Oh Spike," the teenager hugged him tighter, "you've been gone so long."

 

"Ninety eight days," Buffy whispered.

 

His head turned and she almost lost herself in the depth of his gaze. "Eternity, Slayer."

 

That seemed to bring Dawn around. "Spike, you're a skeleton!"

 

"Yeah," he smirked. "Does wonders for the cheekbones." His face softened when he saw the girl's troubled expression. "It's all right, Bit. The other place I was at didn't have a lot of food. But I'll recover."

 

"I'm so sorry, Spike. I didn't mean to open anything up. I just wanted to stop them. Everything hurt and I was so mad and scared." Buffy was startled. She knew Dawn was troubled about the whole, horrible attack, but it never occurred to her that her sister had felt any guilt. She had been the victim. But apparently she had gone through these long three months feeling guilty for ripping open a portal and endangering everyone. Worse yet, she must have felt responsible for Spike disappearance when he closed the opening. Why didn't she tell me?

 

The vampire just hugged the child and wiped away the sudden tears. "Shhh, Niblet. You saved everyone. Those bastards had us stopped cold and you turned everything around. Don’t be sorry. You were a bloody hero."

 

"But . . . you . . .?"

 

"I had to close it and got a little hungry. That's all right. Give me some blood and bloomin' onions and I'll be back in fighting form." He held the child out at arm's length and examined her. "Bit, you look like you need to get to bed. It's been a busy night, you've made a good kill and tomorrow's a school day."

 

He was so good with her sister. Without thinking, Buffy found herself asking, "Would you walk with us back home?"

 

The look of simple pleasure he gave her made her melt. The three of them walked back to 1630 Revello Drive and it felt comfortable. She remembered that last walk the three of them had had before Wolfram and Hart had invaded. Spike had been human and she and he had been a couple. They had sat together at the Magic Shop with no raised eyebrows from her friends. It had felt comfortable, almost like he was becoming part of the family and she had felt free to kiss him in front of Dawn, She had left them to patrol, expecting another delicious night of showers, sex and cuddling after she finished slaying.

 

And now what? She had a surprise but didn't quite know how Spike would react. She watched him with her sister and wondered. He still seemed to care about them. She felt so hopeful it almost hurt.

 

"What about the other guys? If you couldn't find any food, maybe they couldn't? Do you think I killed them by creating that opening?"

 

"Don't know. Never saw any of them. I was in sort of an Arctic area, but they might have been in a better place. I wouldn't worry about them. They knew they were risking their lives when they decided to kidnap and murder people."

 

They were talking softer now and something he said made Dawn give a watery chuckle. They reached her home and Buffy took her sister inside. "Will you wait here for me? I'll be right back."

 

Dawn looked at the two of them. "It's OK, Buffy. You two need to talk."

 

"No Dawn, I have to get something in the house anyway." She turned towards Spike and gave a tight hopeful little grin. "I got a surprise for you." She leaned over and gave him a quick PG rated, Dawn-is-watching kiss. She almost giggled at his shocked expression. She put her arm around Dawnie and they went inside the house.

 

* * *

 

He certainly hadn't expected that kiss. He stepped back towards the tree and lit up a fag. OK, in his wildest dreams he had taken her in his arms, she had whispered that she missed him, everything would be all Gone-With-the-Wind and they would go off and shag like bunnies. But he had really expected that she would reject him. She may have loved the human Spike, but now he was back to being a soulless demon. He knew what that meant.

 

He blew out smoke thoughtfully and watched it drift away in the slight breeze. He definitely had missed smoking; it had been right behind Summers women and blood. He wondered what surprise the Slayer had for him. She had been secretive and pleased and had given him a little kiss . . .

 

Bloody hell. If this were back in Victorian England, she would come back with cunningly knit little booties. He had felt like a complete pillock back when he was alive and realized that he had had sex without any protection. It wasn't like he hadn't seen enough afternoon specials while trapped in his crypt during the daylight hours. If they were to be believed, one bout of sex between humans and bang, the woman was pregnant and her life was ruined. Actually that didn't really disagree with what he had been taught as a young man in Victorian England. Was Buffy . . . ?

 

He discovered he had snapped his cigarette in two. He contemplated lighting another but decided his hands were too shaky to play with fire. He'd probably incinerate himself. He paced nervously, especially when he remembered that Buffy had worn a loose jacket rather than her normal skintight apparel.

 

Buffy came out of the house with a smile, looking around almost eagerly for him. He stepped towards her and she approached him, carrying something. As she drew close, he inhaled deeply. Normal Slayer hormones, none of the warm, almost milky tinge of pregnancy. He was relieved, yet was surprised at the pang of disappointment.

 

"Spike, is anything wrong?"

 

"Huh? No, of course not. Oh my duster. Thanks luv."

 

"Sorry, I took so long, but I had to clean up and Dawn and I had some talking to do. It's been so hard for her since Tara."

 

"I'm sorry about Tara. She and Dawn got really close over the last summer."

 

Buffy's face clouded. "She was a good friend. And when she died, Willow . . ." She shook her head, "I can't talk about this now." She turned. "Let's go and sit in the back. We need to talk."

 

How often had he used that line on her? Spike trailed her, wondering what was up. They sat in the old deck chairs in the back yard and he watched her as she gathered her courage.

 

"Spike, did you like being human?"

 

He felt like he was hit in the stomach. "Yes."

 

She was leaning forward. "But back when we talked about you becoming a vampire, you said you liked it, that getting killed made you feel alive."

 

It was hard not to touch her. How long had he dreamed of having her here, this close. He didn't know how to explain himself. "Buffy, I've been in hell. I don't know if it was a real hell, but. . . it snowed all the time and there was no food and after a while the snow buried me and I was too weak to fight my way out. I couldn't see or hear or smell and after everything hardened to ice, I couldn't move."

 

"Oh my God!" Buffy reached out and touched his cheek.

 

He ignored the pity. "I almost lost my bloody mind. For a while there, I was worse than Dru. But I kept thinking of you. I dreamed of you and remembered everything about you." He held her hand. "And the part I focused on, the part that kept me going were my few short days as a man when you let yourself love me."

 

He couldn't read her eyes. She seemed so hopeful, almost happy. She reached out and handed him a small, creased piece of paper.

 

He unfolded it. "The blood of a Mhora demon." He looked up, puzzled. "What's this?"

 

"It can make you human again."

 

He stared, disbelieving. "Never heard of such a thing."

 

"Angel gave it to me. A couple of years ago, right after the Thanksgiving you came to us for help, I was in Los Angeles and was attacked by one. Angel killed it. He must have done research on it. Anyway, after you vanished, he told me about what its blood can do and Willow . . ." Again she hesitated at the Wicca's name. "Willow read up on it and say's he's right. Mhora demons are really rare, but if we can find one," her hands were on his upper arms, "we can go back to where we were." She kissed him.

 

For once, he was too shocked to respond. He stared at her, not daring to hope.

 

Strangely he found himself remembering that night when the two of them had smashed each other with their fists and slashed with words before dissolving into their first bout of mind-dissolving passion. "Poor Spikey. Can't be a human, can't be a vampire. Where the hell do you fit in?"

 

Since that dark night in a London stable over 120 years, he had been a pawn of others' choices. Angel and his pack had turned him into a vampire so that Dru would have a caretaker. The Initiative had crippled him as an interesting experiment. Wolfram and Hart had dusted and revived him for their own purposes. Dru and her minions had murdered him to soothe her wounded pride.

 

He stared at the face of the woman he loved and realized what she was offering. For the first time, he was being was being given a choice. He could be a human. He could be a vampire, this time without a chip to limit his powers. It was his choice.

 

He finally had the power to determine where the hell he fit in.

 

He stared at her and realized he was seeing her for the moment as a predator would. She was so close, her mouth vulnerable and her throat unprotected. He could lean towards her, lulling her with soft whispers and slash her jugular. He would stop being chained to a mortal and finally bag his third Slayer. Better yet, as she lay dying, he could savor her blood and force his own blood on her dying lips and she would be his forever. The two of them could roam the world and once again his existence would be simple. He could once again live for blood and the kill, carousing through Europe with the one he loved meekly devoted to him. He would be the Master Vampire and she would worship him.

 

He smiled. Hell, he could take out the entire Scooby Gang. Red, with her powers and hint of evil, would make a fascinating vampire. Giles and Xander would be minions and he would finally once again be the Big Bad.

 

He reached forward touching the tender vein in her neck, feeling the glorious pulse. He had the power to return to his past, to once again be a soulless killer. After being crippled for so long, he loved the sense of power. But being a Big Bad was hollow compared to loving the Slayer, protecting and treasuring this brave and precious life. Her fight was his fight, he had learned to cherish her family and even, reluctantly, like her friends. (Except Harris, wild horses couldn't force him to ever admit liking the Whelp.) Since that day so long ago when he had first seen her dancing at the Bronze, his enjoyment of the casual, evil existence of a vampire had been draining and he had increasingly longed to be the man she could love. He could once again be the Big Bad. But he didn't want to.

 

He wanted to be human again. Even with the nightmares, the soul lashing him for his century of carnage, he wanted to be by her side. He had tasted it and life had been sweet.

 

He'd actually done humanity right this last time. Who would have imagined that William the Wanker could finally end up with the girl? Buffy had loved him and he had experienced more joy in those three short days than in the rest of his entire existence. He had even begun to dream his old Victorian dreams of sharing a life with the woman you love, of raising children and growing old in each others arms.

 

That was what Buffy was offering. All of his dreams.

 

He gazed at Buffy's face. It was glowing and hopeful. For a moment Spike saw the trusting girl who had been destroyed when Angel had left her. He leaned forward and kissed the Slayer on the lips. It was as tender as a good bye.

 

"And what do we do the next time Dawn opens a portal, luv?"

 

Buffy drew back, her eyes wide with shock.

 

The price of his dreams was to be helpless when the women he loved were in danger. It was more than he could pay.

 

"You know it will happen. She's the Key." He held her hands, trying to force her to listen. "You know the bad guys just keep coming. You fight a hundred, a thousand and they still are going to keep coming. And it won't just be monsters, pet. Humans driven by greed are going to want to use her. And if I let myself be human, then only the death of Dawn or you will close the portals."

 

Just the memory choked him, but he kept his voice firm. "I can't let that happen. I'll spend eternity in hell before I stand by and watch you die again."

 

Buffy's eyes were filling with tears and it was tearing him apart. He grabbed her shoulders trying not to lose her, trying to explain. Angrily she shrugged his hands off.

 

"I love you, Summers. I can't be a normal man any more than you can be a normal woman. You need a monster in your man, someone to help you fight and protect Dawn."

 

"I don't need a monster. I don't need a soulless monster." She lashed out with her fist. He was still weak from his long starvation and too slow to protect himself. He reeled back and slammed against the fence.

 

"Buffy!" He was losing her. He had lost her when Dru and her minions had stolen his life and soul. But how could he chose to be helpless again, unable to protect her or her sister? "Buffy, wait!"

 

She gazed at his bleeding face in horror and turned. He closed his eyes so he didn't have to watch as she ran away.

 

CHAPTER 23 - DECISION

 

Late Wednesday Night

 

The branch whipped Buffy's face and she cried out. She stumbled to a halt, touching the cut on her forehead. It bled heavily and for a moment she found herself thinking of Spike's bleeding face and his look of despair. She had been running blindly and now she was in the woods. She leaned against a tree trying to stop the bleeding, then slid to the ground. Blood and tears mingled as she sobbed helplessly.

It was her worst nightmare. She had allowed herself to love Spike and now he was back to being an unchipped killer. Nightmares of when she had been forced to kill Angel rose to haunt her. How could she do that again?

 

For months she had been holding on to that stupid scrap of paper. The blood of a Mhora demon would return him to a human, back to the man she had finally allowed herself to love. But he wouldn't do it. And how was she supposed to argue with him. "What do we do the next time Dawn opens a portal, luv?" He wasn't even refusing because he was afraid of a soul or wanted to stay higher on the food chain. He wanted to be able to protect her and her sister. He had already faced two hell worlds to save them and was willing to face more.

 

"I'll spend eternity in hell before I stand by and watch you die again."

 

Back when she had faced Glory, she had told her friends that she would kill anyone that came near Dawn and tried to hurt her. She would have allowed the universe to be destroyed rather than see her sister die. Now she had someone who could and would protect Dawn, no matter what the cost.

 

But it was Spike. He might love her and her sister, but without a chip, he was a murderer. How could she allow him to remain and kill people? Yet how could she destroy the one being who would always be there when her sister was in danger?

Dawn needs him. Then, more reluctantly she found herself admitting I need him.

 

She suddenly remembered Xander, "But if you really think you can love this guy ... I'm talking scary, messy, no-emotions-barred need ... if you're ready for that ... then think about what you're about to lose." Despite the tears, she found herself smiling slightly. How irritated Xander would be if he knew the words about Riley really applied to Spike? But Xander, as irritating and judgmental as he could be, sometimes got it right.

He was right about love. It was a scary, messy and a no-holds-barred need and it was worth fighting for.

She didn't know if she could win. She really didn't know if a vampire without a soul and without a chip could be kept from killing people. According to the Council of Watchers, it was impossible. But then, according to the Watchers and their prophecies, she should have died at the age of 16. She had won impossible battles before.

 

And the first step was to finally stop running.

* * *

 

She tried to find Spike. He hadn't returned to his old crypt.

It took two days. Buffy hadn't found him at any of his old haunts. No one at Willey's had seen him. It wasn't until she posted herself at the one butcher's shop that stayed open late that she finally found him. He didn't seem pleased to be found.

"Spike."

 

"Slayer." Not a good sign.

"We need to talk."

 

His eyes were cold and angry, "Not really." He walked into the butcher's shop. She waited outside. How strange was this? She was the one that needed to talk; he was the one with no time to listen. Still, if he was buying blood, it must mean that he wasn't hunting. She allowed herself to feel a touch of hope.

 

He came out carrying several pouches of blood in a brown paper bag. He didn't bother looking at her. She followed him as he strode away. They walked two blocks in silence before he turned and growled. "Bugger off, Blondie. I'm not in the mood."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"Well that makes everything ducky, doesn't it." He didn't slow down.

 

What could she say that would stop him? "I need to talk to you about Dawn."

 

She couldn't quite see his face but got the impression that he rolled his eyes. "You said you would spar with her. She needs to know when."

 

Without breaking stride he said, "Tell her I'll meet her tomorrow at the Magic Shop after school."

 

"The Magic Shop is closed. Willow wrecked it."

That stopped him. She watched him flex his jaw then turn around slowly.

 

"All right Slayer. You name a spot. I'll be there for the Bit." He was coldly controlling the anger.

 

"We need to talk."

 

"No. You just need to tell me where to meet your sister. Then you can bugger off."

 

She was finally noticing the first difference between this Spike and the man she had loved. The anger in his eyes was deeper. Had he always been this angry at the way she had treated him? Last year, he seemed to forgive her for anything, but last year he had been chipped. Now he wasn't.

 

It scared her. She didn't want to lose him. "Please, Spike." She felt like crying, but tried to hold it back. "I'm so sorry I hit you. I was so scared." Now the tears were escaping and it was all she could do not to sob out loud.

 

He stood silent and gradually she saw the tension fade from his body. He shook his head. "Damn you, Buffy, that's cheating." He almost reached forward, as if to brush her tears away, then sighed. "Fine. I have to put this blood away, then we'll talk."

 

They walked quietly, side by side. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was still gaunt, and looked older, worn, if that was possible for a vampire. Combined with the duster and the unconscious swagger of his walk, he looked dangerous.

They approached a creek bed in the poorer part of Sunnydale. There hidden in the brush, was the old De Soto. Spike opened up the trunk and popped the blood bags into a cooler. He kept one and tore it open, pouring blood into a mug.

 

He leaned wearily against the car and sipped out of the mug. "So, talk."

 

"This is where you're staying?"

 

The vampire shrugged. "It'll do until I get my strength back. I'm not really in the mood to fight with anyone for a home right now." He had finished the mug and filled it again.

"It's not right."

 

He tilted his head, watching her. "I've stayed here before, Buffy. It's dark. I'm safe during the day."

 

She looked at the battered car with the painted windows. He had saved her and her sister, endured hell and now he had to live like a bum, huddled in a car during the daylight. "You could come back to our place." She realized what she had said and hastily added, "For a shower." He looked at her and she found herself remembering what they had done the last time he had taken a shower at her house. She flushed. "That wasn't what I meant. I mean, that wasn't what I wanted to say."

 

"Then what do you want to say?" Spike's voice sounded patient, almost resigned. He looked so tired of the tangled games they always played.

Buffy was tired of the games too. There had to be some sort of way to make their relationship work. She knew what she wanted to say, but not how to say it. "I want to say. . . I want to ask . . . have you hunted since you got back?"

 

He threw his head back and looked at the sky as if searching for an answer. "How am I supposed to answer that, luv? If I say yes, you stake me. If I say no, you think I'm a bloody liar." When she didn't say anything, he looked directly at her. "No, Buffy. I haven't killed or hurt anyone. You don't tolerate serial killers. I told you a long time ago, I've changed. Do you think," He suddenly hurled the cup away, "I'd be drinking this swill if I was hunting?"

 

The mug shattered against the ground. Buffy looked at it, then at Spike. "I wish I could trust you."

 

"For God sake, Slayer. You're living on the Hellmouth, the center of magic. Even the soddin' Watcher had a truth spell. Find an amulet or someone who reads auras. Have Angel send over his bloody demon and I'll sing a stupid song for him. I'm telling the truth, Buffy."

 

"How can you give up killing?"

 

He exploded. "I love you!" He leaned forward, and grabbed hold of her arms, his fingers digging bruises into her flesh. "I've told you, again and again, I love you. I'm drowning in you. If it means giving up evil, I will." Buffy stared up at his intense face, reading the desperate love in his eyes. She froze. He slowly leaned forward and kissed her. It was hard, almost violent. He pulled her towards himself.

She almost surrendered. She yielded, then weakly tried to push him away. "No, we can't."

To her astonishment, he let go. He turned and slammed his fist against the car. He took a deep unnecessary breath. "Right, Slayer. Time for you to start running.

"I'm not running. I won't run any more. But I have to understand. How am I supposed to believe that you won't kill? No vampire has ever done that except Angel and he has a soul."

 

"I don't have a bloody soul. I don't need one to remember the bloody difference between right and wrong."

 

"But no other vampire has stopped being evil."

 

He snarled. "Maybe no other vampire has been stuck loving a slayer or with a soddin' chip in their head. Maybe no other vampire was stuck for a damned eternity in hell, having to think about everything they lost when they were murdered and going mad trying to figure out some way to get it back."

 

She didn't know what to say. The anger seeped out of him and he looked at her with the face she had seen once before, when he stood in her doorway after the disinvite spell and saw all that he had lost. His voice was weary. "Everything seemed so clear when I was a man. I was suddenly able to say the right things and understand why you could never love a monster. I saw what I'd been doing to you, telling you that you were wrong and trying to pull you into my world."

 

"It all feels different now. It's like I know right from wrong, but humans are back to smelling like food." He grimaced. "I guess I'm back to being evil. I won't do evil, but everything is fuzzier now."

 

"Is it just because you love me. If you got mad at me or I died, would you go back to killing?"

 

"I won't lie to you, luv. I don't know." He tilted his head, looking thoughtful. "When you were dead and I was fighting with the Scoobies. . ." He looked reminiscent. "It was a good fight." He met her eyes. "You know me. I like a good brawl, back against the wall, nothing but fists and fangs. It drove Angelus mad. I was always looking for something bigger to battle with, a mob or a slayer. This fight that you do, against impossible odds to save the world, it's like nothing else."

 

"Back when we first worked together, we saved the bloody world. I'm not just preying on creatures weaker than me, like I used to. We're destroying knights, demons and hell-gods. I may not be good, but I'm a fighter, and this is the best battle there is. Even though I know you can never love a monster, I want to be able to fight by your side."

 

She wanted to touch him, to reassure him somehow. "I want that. I want us to be able to go back to sparring and patrolling together." She sighed. "I'll ask Giles to help me come up with something."

 

He shrugged, resigned to the fact that she couldn't trust an evil soulless thing. "Make it some sort of amulet or aura reader. A truth spell would ruin my poker games."

 

She hated the resignation in his voice, the fact that for the sake of other people and their safety she would always have to doubt him. She owed him so much more. "Spike. I wouldn't have staked you. Somehow I never have been able to slay you." His eyes widened. "But," her voice grew firm, "I can't love a killer. If you kill or even try to hurt a human, I'll destroy the monster in you. I'll take you down and give you the Mhora blood. I'll force you to be human and you'll never be able to close a portal again."

 

He whistled silently. He remembered being held captive, watching Dawn scream when the goons were on her and being too weak to help her. He remembered the 147 days of agony, knowing that Buffy had died because he had failed her. "You wouldn't put your little sis in danger?"

 

"Try me." She stared at him coldly. "I can find a way to protect her without using a mass murderer."

 

She means it. For a moment he could imagine what it would be like, living with the anguish of a conscience, remembering the face of the person he killed and knowing that Buffy or Dawn could die because he had been weak. It shook him to the core.

 

"Find your magic, Slayer." It was hard to keep his voice from shaking. "I won't kill."

 

* * *

 

She was as good as her word. Four days later, she stopped by and told him that Giles had sent something by special delivery. Dawn would pick it up that afternoon and they would use it when she got back from work.

Dawn opened the door when he arrived that evening. She smelled sweet and sleepy and fresh from the shower. She smiled and let him into the house that had so briefly been his home. "I'm making hot chocolate. Want some?"

 

He wondered if this was how divorced dads felt, separated from the children they wanted to nurture. As if she read his mind, Dawn asked, "When are you coming back to live with us?"

 

"Don't know if I ever will. Buffy has to trust me first."

 

"She will. But it's hard. She's the Slayer and responsible for protecting people. And it's hard to believe that a vampire could give up killing." Her tone changed. "How can you?"

 

"I love your big sis. Besides, you saved me." He smiled at the surprise in her face. "Gave me a chance to cool off. Back when I was first turned, I was a fledgling. You know them, pretty much running on instinct. If I'd stayed, I probably would have done something stupid, like draining people and trying to hide it from Buffy. But your portal put me someplace where I couldn't hurt anyone. And it gave me time to think, not something we vampires do very much."

 

He'd never tell her how long he had been trapped or that by time he was free he was far, far too old to act like a fledgling. Maybe being sired by minions this time, instead of the Master's line, had left him weaker, he didn't know. But he was old now and far from stupid. Except that human, fledgling or Master Vampire, he still loved the Slayer. Maybe that was stupid, but it remained the core of his existence.

 

Now he was talking to a girl burdened with incredible power. She was the Key and he wanted her to stop feeling guilty.

 

"Spent a lot of time thinking of a story. Wanna hear it?"

 

She grinned. "Is it as good as the 'little girl in the coal bin' story?"

 

"I liked it."

 

"Tell me a bedtime story." She sipped on the chocolate and for the moment looked as sleepy and young as a four-year-old.

 

"Once upon a time there were some monks."

 

"Oh I think I might like this one."

 

"They were very good men with a very important job. They had to protect a magic Key. It was green and glowy and very powerful. It could open the doors to new worlds, both good and bad. They had to keep the bad guys from ever getting the Key's power."

 

"Everything comes to an end, so when the line of monks almost ended, they made a very brave decision. They would make the Key alive. They made it into a little girl."

 

"Was she beautiful?"

 

"No, she was a shiny-haired brat. Quiet, Niblet, I'm on a roll."

 

"So now instead of the monks deciding how the Key should be used, the Key could learn for herself. They put her with the very best family, so she could learn right from wrong. She was given a mother so loving and kind that she could even pity a monster. And she was given a big sister who risked her life every night to save other people. She was surrounded by friends who were basically good people."

 

"Even Xander?"

 

He growled and ignored her. "She learned to be powerful. She learned to open portals and she had a nifty little trick of inventing a portal that would suck up any bad guys that tried to use her. It no longer was possible to use the Key for evil because she wouldn't allow it."

 

He watched her smile. "And now that the Key was powerful, she could open portals for good reasons. Like to help lost babies or find worlds where they had a cure for cancer. She could make things better."

 

"Is there a vampire in the story?"

 

"Yeah, a Big Bad. She and her sister somehow made him a bloody white hat."

 

"But not too good."

 

"No, they never quite tamed him, but they let him help."

 

"But the best part of the story is this. Keys can open doors, but they can also lock them. The girl's big sis could handle day-to-day fighting . . ."

 

("Don't you mean night-to night?" "Hush.")

 

". . . but it was when someone tried to end the world that things got risky. Bad guys were always trying to open up the Hellmouth and let the forces of evil flood the world. That's when big sis would face death."

 

Dawn's face was still.

 

"So the Key learned to close portals and lock them up. And she closed the Hellmouth forever. She and big sis were able to grow old and live happily ever after."

 

"And the vampire?"

 

"He just got better looking with age. And the Key did him a favor and stopped opening portals to cold places. Bad guys only got sent to worlds with lots of shade and good beer."

 

He heard a giggle and turned surprised. How long had Buffy been there?

 

" 'Night Spike." Dawn kissed his cheek. "'Night Buffy." She vanished upstairs.

He was slightly embarrassed. "How much did you hear?"

 

Buffy looked greasy but happy. "Enough." She held up the UPS package. "We need to get this over with."

 

He grimaced. She opened the package and dumped out a yellow crystal and a note. She glanced at it. "Giles says it's from that coven in Devon. If you hold it and tell the truth, it gets a pink glow." She put the note down. "Shall we try it?"

 

He grimaced and grabbed the crystal. "I'm still hunting." The crystal stayed yellow. "I've given up killing people." It changed, glowing a deep radiant pink. "I'm not hurting any one." Pink. "I'm not stealing." Pink. " I'm not going to hurt anyone. I'm so soddin' virtuous it hurts." Bright pink. He threw it down on the table.

"There's your answer, Slayer."

 

If his face was still human, she knew it would be flushed with humiliation. "I believed you before. But I couldn't risk other people's lives. I did that with Angel and I won't do it again." She looked at the misery on his face when she mentioned his grandsire and knew she owed him something.

 

She took the crystal firmly in her hand. "I love you, Spike." The crystal glowed again, a deep luminous pink. "I love the humanity I see inside you." Pink again. This was harder to get out. "And I love the monster in you as well. It's fierce and strong and I've always found it beautiful, even when I was afraid of it." Her cheeks turned as pink as the crystal glowing in her hand.

 

They sat across the table, staring at each other. Her Spike, her monster, was speechless. Finally, just to break the silence, she asked, "Are you strong enough now to patrol with me again? I was in a hurry to get this all over with and I haven't done my rounds."

 

"Ah . . ." He cleared his throat. "Right."

 

She went over to the weapons chest and got out a couple of extra stakes. As she opened the door, she turned. He still looked stunned and hesitant. "After the patrol, we can come back here and shower."

 

The hesitancy faded and suddenly the obnoxious cocky look that she had missed so much returned. "Right. I got your back, Slayer."

 

And the two of them went out into the night, side by side.

 

THE END 

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