| TITLE: Growing Up on the Hellmouth pt 12/? AUTHOR: Faery FEEDBACK: Go ahead�I dare you ;-) DISTRIBUTION: I would be honoured, just let me know first. PAIRING: Spike/Dawn RATING: PG-13 for this part DISCLAIMER: Joss owns all. Joss rules all. But if he ever wants to give up Spike I'd be more than happy to play with him for a while. AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's official�I have definitely screwed with the timeline beyond belief. There are plenty of spoilers for Season 5, but none of them in the right order. I just love the power of fanfic :-) AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I just realized as I read over the last part that I made a couple of minor mistakes. At the end, I had Buffy running out into the *night* when really they all had just woken up, so it should be late morning by this point. Sorry `bout that! DEDICATION: This is to all the wonderful people who have been sending me feedback. Special thanks go out to Whitewolf Alpha, inquisitive1, and Ellie Dee, who have all sent me feedback for nearly every piece. Thanks for all the encouragement! SUMMARY: Spike is de-chipped and having some fun Dawn tightened her arms around the Watcher's waist. "Giles, what are we going to do?" she asked quietly. "What if Buffy really hurts Spike? What's that going to do to me? And...and what about today? Mom is supposed to go to the hospital today. She'll be devastated if Buffy isn't there for her. And...and..." Dawn was getting frantic, so Giles placed a fingertip over her lips, gently silencing her before her mind could come up with any more things that could go wrong with the day. "Hush, dear. We will figure something out, but standing here fretting about everything that could happen won't get us anywhere. First off, I think we need to devise a way of protecting you from your link with Spike." "Protect me? But I don't want to break the link!" Dawn exclaimed, worry creeping into her voice. "You misunderstand me. I didn't suggest that we *break* the link, merely give you some protection from it. It is a potentially powerful weapon, but like any weapon, one must learn to master it, to control it, else it becomes deadly." Giles stared at Dawn meaningfully, letting his words sink in. She became calm, listening with rapt attention. "Right now, the bond between you and Spike is very strong, so strong in fact, that there are times where it is difficult for you to distinguish where he leaves off and you begin. This is a dangerous place for you to be. You are unaccustomed to the strong urges of a demon and are in no place to combat them. As things are, you have become a danger to yourself and those around you..." Giles looked like he was about to continue when Dawn cut in. "Ok, Giles...I think I get it. As, um, interesting as your lectures are, do you think we could move on to what we are going to *do* about this?" "Oh, yes. Quite right." Giles took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus before he continued. "What I propose is that we teach you to center yourself. You must be able to find the calm within and have a place that is solely and completely you in the depths of your mind. In that place you are safe from any outside intrusions, and from it, you can observe the link between you and Spike and call upon it at will, rather than being consumed by it. Now is the perfect time for this, as it is day, and Spike is most likely still asleep. There is less chance of him interfering if he is unconscious, although knowing Spike, I wouldn't rule out the possibility," Giles said with a wry grin. "Wow," Dawn said in surprise. "That sounds like some wacky Zen stuff there." "Not quite Zen, as you call it," Giles said with a slight smile, "but it is an advanced form of meditation. Usually I would never even attempt to teach this to a novice. There is always the possibility with mediation at this level that you could get lost inside your own mind, trapped in the walls you have constructed, and unable to regain consciousness. But I believe the circumstances merit such drastic measures." Dawn gasped as she felt a surge of anger race through her. "Um, Giles, we may have a problem...Spike's awake, and he's not happy. I think Buffy might be with him," Dawn said nervously. "Oh dear. Then we must hurry. Despite what you may be feeling, you must do your best to remain calm. If you cannot control your emotions, this will never work." Dawn sat up straight and tried to look brave. "Ok, then. Let's get started." Giles pulled out a large, translucent crystal and placed it in front of Dawn. "Let's begin," he said gravely. * * * * * * * * * * Spike was about to give Buffy's unconscious form a sharp kick to the ribs for good measure, when he felt something change inside of him. A bubbly, bright presence that had been there since the moment he claimed Dawn seemed to withdraw slightly from him, as if a shimmery curtain now separated him from his tiny bit of internal light. As he concentrated, the curtain got slightly thicker, and the light even more distant. He knew that if he wanted, he could tear through the barrier in a heartbeat, but he shrugged it off. "If the little bit wants some distance, fine by me. Probably's for the best. Don't need her getting some third eye sort of vision of me working over her big sis." "Isn't that right, Slayer?" he asked as he gave Buffy's body a kick. "Aw hell, never pegged you for the quiet type," Spike laughed as he flung her over his shoulder and took her to the lower level of the crypt. After chaining her to the wall, he moved to rouse the Buffybot. "C'mon now, clap on, or whatever the hell you have to say. Wake up you stupid piece of tin!" The Buffybot's eyes snapped open and a bright smile mechanically appeared on her face. "Good morning, Spike!" she said cheerfully. "Get up," he said gruffly. "I have need of your services." "Oooh, your presence sends chills down my spine and fear to my heart. Shall I run and scream before you chase me down and ravage me?" she asked, her eyes wide and willing. "Not *those* kind of services, you mechanical twit. I'm gonna teach you a new game. Real simple. You see that girl chained up there? That's the real you. Go lie in that coffin across from her and pretend you're dead. And here..." Spike bit into his fingertip and smeared some blood and dirt on her head where he had hit the real Buffy. "...that's to make it look a bit more real." "I don't know if I understand this game, Spike," the Buffybot said with a forlorn voice. This was not the sort of game her programming had taught her. "Let's just call it a new type of screwing. You can understand that now, can't you? This is just screwing of the mental sort," he said with a malicious grin. "Ok!" the Buffybot exclaimed happily as she bounced over to the coffin and laid down. "Buffy!" Spike said in an exasperated tone of voice. "Yes, Spike?" "Put your legs together, now there's a girl," he said impatiently. Finally the Buffybot was in position. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and a peaceful look was on her face. If it weren't for the blood congealing on her forehead, she would look like she was asleep. Not wanting to risk any more mishaps, Spike said evenly, "Your new wake command is `get up you stupid sod'... Nothing else, ya hear?." "Get up you stupid sod...yes, I understand Spike," the Buffybot said cheerfully, unaware of the insult within the command. That done, Spike ordered the robot to bed. "Buffy, sleep mode," he said quietly. A slight whoosh of air escaped the robot's lips as she became truly still. Just then, the real Buffy began to stir. Spike quickly took his position kneeling next to the coffin and crying as if in mourning. He pretended not to notice as Buffy moaned softly and slowly opened her eyes. Dried blood covered her face and a deep gash ran across the top of her forehead and into her hairline. "Spike..." she attempted to growl, but it came out more like a weak cry for help than anything. Spike yelped and lept back in mock fear, turning wildly as if to look for the source of the sound. "Who's there!" he shouted at random into the room. "I won't let you touch her!" Confusion flitted across Buffy's face as she watched Spike prowl back and forth across the room, searching for a nonexistent intruder. He stormed past her without so much as a glance in her direction, as if he couldn't see her standing there, chained to the wall. "Spike!" she shouted, coughing with the effort. "What's happening..." she cried, Spike's odd behavior and her aching skull causing fear to creep in where normally she would be strong. Spike whirled around violently again at the sound. "Buffy?" he said, hope in his voice, as he ran to the coffin side. He cradled the limp form inside and began to stroke her hair. "Buffy, oh God, Buffy...I knew you couldn't be dead. I knew it! C'mon, there's a luv. Wake up. Wake up!" he screamed as he began to shake her violently. The Buffybot lay as still as before. "Wake up..." Spike wailed one final time before gently setting her body back down into its original position. "Bloody hell," he growled, running his fingers through his hair, "now I'm hearing things!" Buffy strained against her chains as she called out, "Spike! Spike! You have to hear me! I'm right here...why can't you hear me?" Spike roared as he pushed himself away from the coffin. "GO AWAY!" he shouted as he spun in circles. He kept shouting as he kicked and punched various objects in the room. Finally, he came to where the real Buffy was chained up. Still acting as if he didn't see her, he slammed his two fists into the wall on either side of her head, mere inches from her hair. "Why the fuck won't you leave me alone? Even in death you haunt me, Summers," he moaned, leaning against his arms, but being careful not to touch her. "Spike, I'm here!" Buffy said, still hoping he would see her. Spike lept back and narrowed his eyes at the wall. "Yes, Spike! I'm here! I'm really here! Oh, God, please let him see me�" Spike stared at the wall, then at the coffin, and then at the wall again before taking a tentative step in her direction. "Buffy?" he asked incredulously. "You can see me? Please tell me you can see me!" Buffy cried. Spike reached out to touch her, then pulled his hand back sharply, hissing as if he'd been burnt. "Hell, Slayer, I can see you. I can bloody well see *through* you too!" "But that...that's impossible!" "Well, luv, how's this for impossible," Spike said gently, "here I am, talking to you over here, when right over there lies your body, all stiff and cold. I hate to break the news to you, but I think you're a ghost." "This can't be happening...this *can't* be happening. If I'm a ghost, why does my head hurt so much? Huh?" Buffy looked at him accusingly, as if she had just proved her entire point. "Well, here's how I see it. You took quite a bump to the head, got your skull all bashed to pieces. That's what did you in... but since you've convinced yourself you're still alive, you've left yourself with all the physical symptoms you should wake up with after a nasty turn like that. That's why you've still got blood all over ya too. Look at your corpse. Tried to clean her up, I did. Didn't have the best of clothes to put on her, but I wanted her looking a little less bloody for when your friends come round. Won't do for them to see you a crumpled, bloody mess. So I fixed you up, nice and neat as I could." As he said this, tears started to stream down his face. "Hell, Slayer. Why'd you have to go and die. It's not easy ya know? Bandaging up the dead body of someone ya used to love. You were so strong...so beautiful. Why did you have to go and die!" As he said this, he began to drift back towards the coffin and the still form of the Buffybot. "Spike, no! Don't leave me!" She strained against her chains again, trying to reach out to him. "Why can't I move?" she exclaimed. Spike turned back to her, sadness etched on his face. He moved to cup her face, his hand hovering mere millimeters above the surface of her skin before pulling back. "I think it's a spiritual metaphor, or some such rot. You've literally chained yourself to this earth because you feel you still have things to accomplish. I'm afraid I can't help you there. Only you can set yourself free from this prison." Spike sat down and stared at the ground, his head in his hands. "I don't know what to do here, Slayer. I really don't," he said, false remorse tingeing his words. Buffy let out a strangled cry and slumped against the wall, tears streaming down her face. * * * * * * * * * * Dawn stared at the prison of her own making. All around her was light. Gleaming, white light. This was who she was. No memories from the monks. No influences from her friends, family or the world around her. No Spike. This light was her essence. She took a few steps forward and held her hand out. The light gave way slightly to show a wall. She could see it all around her. A sphere that glittered, diamond strong. Taking a deep breath, she allowed a door to form in front of her. Through it she could see the link between her and Spike. It no longer glowed pink as it had when she first began. There were now two distinct sections, pure white and blood red...her and Spike, two *separate* entities. Tentatively, she moved along the glowing beam, allowing her mind to reach into the blood-like light without letting it consume her. Dawn stepped forward, her eyes closed, and red light bathed her, like a supernatural dark room. When she opened her eyes again, she could see into Spike's crypt. Tears were on her face...no *his* face, but inside his head, laughter continuously rang out, loud and clear. Dawn watched the show for a bit, becoming more and more confused by the minute. Dawn gasped as two rough hands reached out and grabbed her. Spike was no longer talking to Buffy. He sat on the ground, his head in his hand, so the Slayer wouldn't notice his distraction. Mentally he grasped Dawn in an iron grip. "Enjoying the show, little bit?" he growled, the menacing sound sending chills down Dawn's spine. "Spike, you're hurting me!" Dawn cried. Immediately, Spike's grip loosened and he winced as if in pain. "Sorry `bout that, luv. Just meant to startle ya. This poking around inside each other's brains takes some gettin' used to." Dawn backed away, frightened by what she was seeing in Spike. Something seemed off...different somehow. "I...I have to go Spike. Don't leave, I'll be over soon." Dawn retreated into her diamond dome. She could feel Spike following her as she tried to close the door she had opened. "Dawn, wait!" Spike yelled. Again, Dawn found two hands gripping her shoulders. "Dawn...Dawn! Come back to me," Giles said urgently as he shook her lightly. He sighed in relief as her eyes lost that glazed look and focused on him. "I thought I had lost you there for a moment. What happened?" "I...I did what we've been practicing. I formed a room inside my head where only I existed, with nothing from the outside world. But this time I went further. Once I felt pretty secure, I explored a little. I poked inside of Spike's head, and I was ok for a while. Then he noticed me. He�he tried to hold me there." "I'm guessing that was his self-preservation instinct taking effect. It's not every day that one has an outside presence invading one's mind. Wh�what did you see while you were there?" "I don't know really," Dawn said slowly. "It was all muddled. I think Spike was fantasizing or something. Buffy was there, but she kept changing. Sometimes she was in a coffin, wearing really tacky clothes for some reason, and other times she was chained to the wall, blood caked all over her face. It couldn't have been real. Spike can't even defend himself, let along hurt her. Giles...I'm scared. What if Buffy hurt Spike, and that's why he didn't want me to leave. M�maybe he needed to tell me something and I just ran off. He could be in his crypt, bleeding and hurt. He could be dreaming about hurting Buffy because he can't fight back against her! We have to go help him!" Dawn was getting frantic, and she began to tug on Giles's arm, motioning for him to get his car keys. "Dawn, you must calm down. As difficult as it may seem right now, we need to think logically. When you let yourself into Spike's mind, did you feel any pain? Think closely on that...did you feel pain of any sort?" Giles stared at her intently, and realization flashed in her eyes. "No, I guess I didn't," she said softly. "I was scared when he grabbed me, but I didn't feel pain coming from him." "Then it is safe to assume that Spike isn't in any sort of physical discomfort, agreed?" "Yeah, I guess so," Dawn said, visibly relieved. "Right, then. While I shudder to think about the implications this has on the frequency of Spike's daydreams about Buffy's death, I don't believe what you saw is the result of Spike mentally seeking revenge for a beating from Buffy. But I do agree that it would be prudent to go to Spike's crypt and see what has occurred, but hopefully we can go with a bit more of a rational mindset now. I'd hate to think all these lessons about centering oneself have gone for naught." "Yeah, yeah. I get the point. But we have to hurry...Mom's supposed to go to the hospital today at 4 and it's already 1. We have to find Buffy and get her home so Mom won't be all alone at the hospital." "Let's go then, shall we?" Giles said as he opened the door for Dawn. "Yup, let's" Dawn replied, hurrying out the door. Giles sped all the way to the cemetery, and the two raced towards Spike's crypt, getting several strange looks from people visiting the graves of their dearly departed. Once inside, Spike was nowhere to be seen. Dawn glanced around quickly and then exclaimed, "Over here, Giles! I think there's another level!" The two explorers climbed slowly down to the lower level. Dawn gasped at the sight before here. It was the coffin from Spike's dream, but it was surrounded by candles, casting deep shadows on everything around it. She didn't bother to wait for Giles to finish descending before she rushed over to the coffin. Inside, Buffy was laid out, still as death. Dawn reached out to touch her and shrieked as she felt the cold skin beneath her fingers. From the wall came a slight sob. Buffy, resigned to being dead, didn't even call out to her friends. She just cried in misery, her willingness to fight drained for the moment. Dawn looked up in surprise. Giles appeared behind her and placed his hands protectively on her shoulders, his brow knitted in confusion. Dawn reached out slightly with her mind, and then turned to the smirking figure leaning against the wall in shadows. "Spike, why are there two Buffies?" Dawn asked, her eyes narrowing. |