Chapter Six

Spike suddenly felt utter desperation. Buffy, pet, are you there? he tried.

Fuck off, asshole. she replied.

The connection was much stronger now, and Spike could feel acute pinpricks of pain wherever Drusilla injured his wife. He was close. His head filled with the image of a small, dark room, windowless. He realized that she was in the basement of one of the surrounding buildings. And then he recognized his surroundings. Drusilla had taken her back to where they had stayed in the 1970s. Spike raced toward the building, breaking down the door and rushing in. He pulled out his stake and killed the minions that guarded the small torture chamber they had built.

"Are you ready to join our family, little girl?" Drusilla asked, her demon already in full view.

"No." The cold voice came from the doorway. "I think our little 'family' is one member too big already, Dru." He pulled the stake from his duster pocket and looked at her coldly. "I've had a lot of practice, Dru. Get away from Bu--the Slayer."

Drusilla began to dance, vamp face still in place. "My Spike doesn't want you in our family, Slayer. Say goodbye, then." She lunged for Buffy's neck and began to drain the weakened, defenseless Slayer. Suddenly there was an acute pressure in her chest. She tore her mouth from Buffy's throat and asked, confused, "Spike?" as she exploded into dust.

"I told you to get away from her," he told Drusilla's remains as they fluttered to the ground.

Searching the room but not coming up with a key for the manacles, he used his preternatural strength to rip apart the chains, pulling them off the cuffs. He then tore off the cold, metal cuffs themselves. Buffy, with a cry of pain, collapsed to the floor unconscious. He scooped her up in his arms, cradling her gingerly so he wouldn't cause further injury to her back, and carried her as quickly as he could back to their penthouse, where he tended to her wounds as she lay limply. He positioned her on her stomach to rest so that she wouldn't put pressure on the torn flesh of her back, then pulled the sheets over her.

He kept vigil over his comatose wife for a day and a half, sighing in relief when she finally moaned in discomfort and opened her eyes. "Where am I?" she asked, confused. Then she spotted Spike and her eyes narrowed. "You," she hissed.

"Whatever you think I did, never happened," Spike said, his voice half-pleading.

"So you really never didn't kill your ex-ho, thusly allowing her to kidnap and torture me? Gee, that's news to me," she ground out, slowly sitting up.

Spike's face fell. "I'm so sorry, Buffy. If I had known that she was going to do that, I would've staked her in the park." His expression serious, he continued. "I would never hurt you. You should know that."

"How can I trust you?" she asked. "I almost died because you couldn't use a stake."

Spike ran his fingers through his hair, mussing the already haphazard curls. "I know. It was the biggest mistake I have ever made. But I lo--"

"Don't say it."

"Buffy, I can't not say it. I'm falling in love with you. God knows how that's even possible. We're supposed to be mortal enemies." He paused, standing and pacing the length of the room before continuing. "What we have--it's not just sex. You accepted my claim on you our first night together. We're bound, luv, whether we want it or not."

"Bound?" she asked, confused by the idea of claiming in general.

"My demon bound itself to you. In your case, to your soul. That's why we had the telepathic connection before. We feel each others pain, emotions... it's hard." He looked in her eyes. "When Dru was torturing you, I felt every blow as if she did it to me."

"She got in my head, Spike. She made me think I was worthless." Tears were coming to Buffy's eyes now, blurring her vision. "She made me think that you were using me... that you'd end up just like Angelus..."

"Bloody hell, luv, you know that I would do anything in my power to not be like him." Spike's cerulean gaze searched hers, and he reached out a shaking hand to brush a strand of hair from her face. She leaned into the touch instinctively.

"I know that, Spike. It just seemed so real. I was so scared that you wouldn't find me, or I wouldn't make it... And you're right. This isn't just sex we have between us. And even though my mind is telling me not to, I gave you my heart already." Buffy smiled through her tears. "I hope you'll accept it."

"Gladly, pet. How are we going to drop this bombshell on the folks back in Sunnyhell?"

"We'll think of something. Can you help me check my back?" She lifted her shirt and turned away from him, completely trusting once again. "It still tingles, but it doesn't hurt too badly anymore. Thank God for Slayer healing powers."

Spike hesitated only a moment before reaching out and removing the layers of gauze from Buffy's back. All that remained were pink scars. His eyes widened as he realized that the scars formed words in the tender flesh of her back.

My Spike, the scars began, The sun and the moon will merge, and from them a babe will be born. Of the darkness and the light, the child shall bring the Beginning of the End, unless the true child of light meets it before.

"Bloody fucking hell," he wheezed as the full meaning of the writing on his wife's back. "Buffy, your back says that you're pregnant and that the baby is going to begin the end of the world."

Author's Note: Phew! Well, that's all I can write right now. My No-Doz and Coke combination is wearing off mighty quickly. I'm gonna fall asleep pretty soon, but I hope you liked it! Don't you love cliffhangers? Hehe.

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R to NC-17