Return to the Initiative
This sterile white ceiling he was looking up at felt strangely familiar, Spike thought hazily, as he was waking up from solid unconsiousness. Dejavú! White walls, white tiles on the floor, far to much light. A cell at the Initiative. Bloody hell! Wasn't this place shut down? He laid flat, and tried to remember how he had gotten here, but his head hurt too much to function. Had they cut it open, to check on the chip or something? Or was this residue from fighting humans? He certainly hoped the latter.
Yes, it was. It all came back to him now. They had come to him in his crypt, while the sun was still up. Four of them, all at once. He had put up the best fight he could, but the chip nearly made his head explode, and they had tazer guns…
He was pulled back to the present by the growing awareness that his legs were burning with pain too. Both of them. What the hell had these people done to him?? He put his arms under himself, and got up to sitting position to get a better view at his injuries. The first thing he saw was that they had taken his pants. What the heck was that all about? Then, on second view, his legs were so swollen that they wouldn't fit anymore… he streched out a hand and examined the most blue and bruisy spot on the left one. Ouch! Big mistake! White hot pain radiated from the touched spot, and sent shockwaves through his entire body. He laid back down, and cursed fiercefully. These legs weren't just hurt. They were broken.
"Why hasn't Spike arrived yet?" Buffy asked in frustration. "He promised to come by at sundown, to look after Dawn while I go asking at the stores for a job." "Who knows?" Xander answered. "It is a bit strange of him not to come by here the moment you ask him to…" Buffy gave him an acid look, and put her coat on. "Thank you for stepping in, anyhow. You know how pressed we are for money these days" she said. "And when the bank refused to give me a loan, even though I saved a few lives over there…" She snorted, and put so much energy into buttoning her coat that one of the buttons got ripped off. "Ooops!" she winced in embarrasment. "hope no future employers cares about a coat with a lack in buttons."
At this comment, Dawn came in and announced "I know one employer who won't mind anyhow!" "You do?" Buffy looked up at her, in wrapped attention. "Yep" Dawn stated smugly. "I just got off the phone with the Initiative. They are back in operation and want you back!"
"What?!" Buffy and Xander yelled in unison. After a moment of complete shock, Buffy was the one who first regained a straight mind. "Look, I don't know what the munks made it seem like we told you about that place" she lashed out to Dawn, with a clear note of sarcasm in her voice. "But they are no good. Back when I last worked for them, they tried to kill me! And the last time we dealt with them, when Adam took control of the place, it nearly killed us all! It's a wonder that they could even think the thought of restarting that project, after all that mayhem. So no, I am not very interested in going back down there!"
"I know that they were evil" Dawn said with a half laughing voice. "you told me that much. I came around to hang out with you a little, when you were hiding away from them in Xanders basement." She stopped, and added in an afterthought "Or, at least in our minds I did…" She sighed, and threw herself into the next thing she had to say "but they said that they were better
now. The whole management has been changed out. No more killing of employees. No more monster construction. They are a strict research institute now. And an employer who sure won't mind that your clothes are unkept, or that there is monster blood in your hair when you come to work. Think about it. You just had it demonstrated that you are not a shop attendant. And won't do well on a construction site. This job is the closest you can come to getting paid for slaying! They actually mostly want you to do that with them. As a sort of soldier body guard when they are out to capture or kill demons"
"At the risk of channeling my often-too-blunt fianceè when saying this" Xander chimed in, "she does have a point. Getting paid for slaying is the most convenient job opportunity you could hope for. And if the Initiative is willing to pay you…" Buffy gave him a look, and retorted " I would indeed expect that kind of comment more from Anya than from you. Where has my anti-Initiative "you shouldn't spend time with them"Xander gone?"
Xander looked down in embarrasment, and kicked the edge of the carpet around a little, knowing that he could not exactly tell Buffy the real reason why her working with the Initiative felt a little less revolting now than last time… before straighten in up and facing her. "Well, as Dawn are saying, there are all new people now… and especially if they are still up to no good, the best way to keep track of what they are doing, is to hang out with them a little. In that way, we might at least get a heads up if they are gathering pieces for a new Adam." He hesitated, and took a deep breath beforefinishing his chain of thought. "And you have really tried almost any job vacant already. The only place with a "help needed" sign that you havent contacted yet would be the Doublemeat Palace. Would you rather prefer that?" Buffy vinced, and sighed in resignation. "I'll think about it. Working with the Initiative again… They may kill me. But at least they won't force me to wear a stupid chicken hat".
It had been a couple of days now, cooped up in this stupid cell, going crazy from nothing happening. Nothing to do, nothing to see. Except for the ceiling opening up two times a day, to shoot out a packet of old-smelling, cold pig's blood. For a long time, Spike had been very reluctant to eat that, not only wincing at the unappetizing meal on offer, but also remembering that it used to be doped, and almost hoping that he could pull the same trick as last time he was held here. Although he knew that his broken legs would never have been up to it… They kept sending out waves of white-hot pain whenever he tried to move around a little. But sitting absolutely still on the same spot, in that cell for days and nights on end was slow torture in itself. Just waiting, like a pig for the slaughter. Never knowing when they'd come to hurt him more… Well, at least he promised himself that when they did, he would do his very best to take them down with him! He really hoped they'd do it soon. Come. Just sitting down, waiting for impending doom, really wasn't his thing!!
Eventually, his hollow aching hunger had driven him to eat. At the third day, when the evening packet was shot out, he reached out for it, feeling deeply humiliated as he ripped the plastic with his fangs, and gulped it down. The taste was as repelling as expected. Dead and cold and probably at the far end of it's shelf life. But, at least if he could keep himself from puking, it put his demanding, hollow stomach to ease for a little while. He laid back, and daydreamt about humans. Fresh, delicious Happy Meals on legs, ready to be picked off whenever he desired it. Aww. Those were the days. Before this sodden institution came along and ruined his unlife. How much he would give for a human in here now. A girl, a sweet
smelling blonde, squirming and screaming helplessly in his arms, and a chip free ability to devour her…
He tried to keep this fantasy alive for as long as possible, but the constant noise of the containing area wouldn't let him forget where he was. A highly annoying recently put in neighbour had been in panic ever since arrival, and never stopped trashing around in his cell, and banging the walls. At least, Spike thought, this creature, whoever he is, still has all limbs intact, from the sound of it. Couldn't he take a break?! That bugger must be getting on everyone else's nerves by now… "Shut up, will you?" he yelled at it in frustration. Another few bangs, then his neightbour yelled something back… in Fyarl. Of course! Only a Fyarl-demon would be stupid and restless enough to keep on trashing about like that. "Want.. out!!" the Fyarl-demon growled. "Don't we all?" Spike answered, in his best Fyarl-growl. "but trashing abound like that isn't gonna get you anywhere. The walls are solid rock, in case you haven't noticed". " Need to kill, crush, destroy!" his neighbour spit out, in classic Fyarl manner. "Totally with you there. But killing the walls isn't a project I'd recommend." Spike replied, considering to give the neighbour some advise about thinking, and making a plan, to manage a successful hit, kick and run. But this was a Fyarl-demon, so that would be a waste of breath. And besides, he coundn't even remember what "thoughtful planning" translated to in Fyarl. Very possibly, the term didn't exist.
So he rather just did his best to shut the noise out, and go back to his own thoughts. Even though that wasn't really much better… As time went by it became harder and harder to hold on to nice and thrilling fantasies, such as ways to kill Initiative-soldiers, if he was free and fit and de-chipped. Soon, painful longing was all there was in him. Longing for warm blood, cigarettes, the comfort of his own bed… and Buffy! Wonderful, gorgeous, strong and passionate Buffy. The adoreable, sweet, lovely slayer, who he would never see again. That thought, more than any other, nearly made him cry. He formed her face in his mind, pictured her beautiful green eyes, her soft blonde hair and her spotless skin…
And then, just as his grief-stricken yearning was reaching it's peak, he could have sworn he saw her. Standing there outside of his cell, staring in at him, with eyes widening in shock, and gasping, like seeing him there caused her pain. Yeah right… the slayer here, and worried about him? Get real, Spike!
Buffy sat in a chair, at the new Initiative-commander's office. Looking up at him, and trying to figure him out. After long nights of thinking, and counting pros and cons, she had reluctantly decided to accept the job. She had consulted Giles about it, and he agreed with Xander that it could be a good idea to keep a close eye on them, if the Initiative was really starting up again, to make sure that they were not up to causing more mayhem. And, although she was almost reluctant to admit that to herself, she had another, more important reason to want to get reaquinted with these facilities too. She hadn't heared from Spike in three days. And when she went to his crypt to find out why he didn't show up to look after Dawn as promised, she had found it empty. And trashed. Like there had been a fight. Right now… when the Initative was back into capturing vampires…
She had been equipped with a security clearance for the Initiative facilities and lead up to the command central, to receive more detailed orders about what her responsibilities in this job would be. Mostly outside work, it seemed. Protecting the soldiers on patrol, if necessary by
killing the hostile subterrestrials, when they were out to find new subjects for their research, and helping them taking the HSTs back to base. Now, after finishing giving these instructions, the commander got up, and asked her if she would like a tour of the rebuilt underground lab before leaving for the day. She gratefully accepted.
She was handed over to a lower level commander, who was guiding her through the tour. After seeing the weapons and equippment storerooms, and the research lab, she was finally lead towards the HST containing area. Trying to hide her heartbeat and nerves going haywire to the guide, she asked what kind of research they were most into with the demons nowadays. "We do lots of things, as you can see, but our main project for the moment is vampire healing-reasearch" the guide replied. "We know that vampires heal surprisingly fast, and want to figure out how fast, and why. And how much, if any, medical care a vampire needs to heal completely. So we study injured vampires, by oberservation, and by cutting tissue samples from a selection of them, to analyze, and see what goes on in their bodies during the healing process." Buffy shuddered, as images of badly injured Spike flowed through her mind.
They walked by cell after cell. Buffy identified a big Pargo demon. Then a furious Fyarl. Then, as they were entering what clearly must be the vampire sone… Her eyes widened, and her heart stopped beating. There! Blonde hair, black shirt, blue eyes staring at her, with a weird, unreadable expression in them. She gasped out loud when her eyes wandered down his body, to the oddly distorted, still somewhat blueish naked legs, which seemed to be healing with the bones askew…
She pulled herself together, and ran after the guide, who had stopped a few cells further down the hall, and gave her a puzzled look. "Does injured vampires bother you, Slayer?" he asked in confusion. Buffy took a deep breath, and focused all her will power on clearing her mind and steadying her voice, not to raise his suspision any further. If she was gonna be able to get Spike out of here, she'd better not give away such thoughts, in any way. "I usually just dust them" she answered, as business-like as she could muster. "Go for the kill, not injure. And certainly not watch them suffer afterwards" She was not quite able to keep the accusation out of her voice, as they walked past more cells, filled with vampires with oddly contorted legs. Her guide shrugged and walked on. "Well, they are evil soulless things. I don't exactly feel too guilty about it." Buffy nodded, trying to swallow her nausea, as she looked into the cages of another set of vamps, now with broken legs nicely put in splints, and healing well. The guide continued talking. "Bet a lot of them would feel great about doing way worse things to us. For pleasure, not scientific benefit." Yeah, Buffy though, ironically. That makes this oh so much better. All this pain and suffering for the scientific achivement of finding out that broken legs need splints, even with speedy healing. "Of course" she muttered in reply. "They are evil."