Spike
lost all feeling in his arms. He opened his eyes heavily looking up
at the chains that had held him prisoner for hours now, his feet
barely touching the floor. "Bloody bitch," Spike swore. He was
only wearing a pair of black jeans, the rest of his clothes hung
around the crypt. He shagged her silly, she hit him over the head
with something big and now here he was, hanging from his crypt
ceiling by his arms. He gripped the chains and tried pulling,
"Bloody hell…" "So, he awakens." He turned
his head to see Faith walk into the room. She had a knife in her
hand. "I hear vamps are the best to torture." She said with a
smile, "That true?" she asked. "Because, they can live through
almost anything I can throw at them." Spike smirked,
"Right, almighty slayer." He rolled his eyes. Faith shook
her head. "Not smart, vampire." She said taking the knife and
without warning plunging it into his biceps smiling when she heard
the pain-filled scream that left the bleached boy's lips.
Faith took the knife and twisted it hearing the vampire scream. Not
satisfied, thinking the scream before was louder, she pulled it out.
"You crazy, bint." Spike growled. Faith grabbed
his chin and held it in pace while she punched him hard in the jaw,
hearing it crack. She moved away from him. Grabbing a bag from
underneath a chair in the crypt and brought it over to where Spike
was, she opened it. "What's that now?" Spike asked,
trying to see what she had. She pulled out a lighter,
flicking it on a few times. Then moving up to him, running her
fingers over his body. Feeling out his muscles. "Bag of tricks."
She whispered. She took her hand away, playing with the lighter
again. "I had a choice, either a lighter or matches." She smiled,
"So, naturally, I picked both." Spike watched her
closely; she was out of kicking range now. He wished he'd done it
when he had the chance. He wasn't sure what she was up to exactly.
"Do you know what it's like?" Faith asked grabbing her
bag, "Waking up in a world, and suddenly everything's different?"
Faith grabbed a long poker. "It's been how many months since that
bitch put me in a coma?!" "Do you ever tire of hearing
yourself speak?" Spike asked looking bored. Faith grabbed
the knife off the floor and moved to him quickly about to stab him
when Spike's legs kicked her back. He screamed in pain. To kick her
he had to use his arm to pull himself up. Pain shot through his body
like lightning. Faith took the opportunity to slash him
across the chest. Blood pouring out of the wide wound she'd put
there. Spike bit his lip, keeping himself from screaming. She stepped
back, "I was talking." She said and moved back to her bag, she
pulled out a newspaper and started to rip the pieces up and throwing
them into a garbage tin. When the papers almost filled the can she
took out a match, lit it, and threw it into the tin. Watching in
amusement as the papers shriveled and burned. Spike watched
as she grabbed her poker and stuck it into the tin. "Great." He
sighed. He winced at the cold air from the crypt touching the wide
cut on his chest, but it wasn't the worst, the hole in his arm was
worse. Preventing him from breaking free. And… it hurt like hell.
She grabbed a bottle out of the bag and walked over to him.
"You know what really hurts like hell on vamps?" Faith asked
unscrewing the cap to the bottle, pouring a little bit on his chest
smiling wickedly as he roared in pain, she watched as his skin
sizzled and smoked. "Holy water." She smiled. "Must really
hurt." She said looking fascinated at the water. She rubbed
some between her fingers and smiled, "Funny, an old guy once
blessed this stuff." She looked at him, "So, really, it's all
his fault for this." Spike clenched his jaw, which was
already healing. He was pretty sure that she popped it out of place
somewhere. She moved to the fire she'd made and took Spike's
shirt off a near by chair, then wrapped it around her hand. "Wouldn't
want to get burned, would I?" She asked grabbing the poker and
pulling it out of the fire, she walked over to Spike. She took the
hot poker and plunged it through the thigh of his left leg, the leg
he kicked her with. Spike screamed. But it didn't
stop her, just encouraged her to do more. She grabbed the bloody
knife off the floor again and laid it flat over his cut. "It's
kinda pretty." She said out of nowhere. "What made someone out of
the blue decide to make a knife like this?" She asked looking at
the patterns on the blade. Then without any warning she
stabbed the knife up into the cut in the middle of his chest. The
whole blade imbedded in his skin. Flat, in-between both his
breastbone and skin. Spike tried his hardest to hold back the scream
but had no luck; the scream violently tore through his body. He
screamed again, gaining a laugh from Faith. Faith held the
knife firmly in her palm she used her free hand to sweep over his
chest, and to where the knife was underneath the layers of skin. She
took her thumb and pushed hard where the tip of the blade was under
his skin. Spike bellowed out in agony, tears shining his blue
eyes, "BLOODY HELL! Woman!" He unconsciously when to grab his
chest forgetting he was chained and that it would cause unbearable
pain by just moving his arm. Spike watched the brunette
Slayer, as she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. She looked up
into his eyes. "If I twisted this knife right now." She said
poking it upward, gutting him like a fish. "You'd think that
poker in the leg was a trip to heaven." "Heaven?" Spike
gritted out. He tried desperately to pay no attention to pain
shooting through his bruised and bloody body. "Tough it out" was
the motto. Faith smiled at the fear he tried his hardest not
to show. He did. She shook the knife making sure she hit the uncut
skin and then pulled it out, violently ripping through more of his
skin. Spike's eyes widened and a silent scream racked
through his insides like a rigid piece of glass. Faith ran
her fingers across the six-pack she had already cut into. She
outlined the wide cut with her finger, hearing him wince. "It's
weird." Faith whispered as if she was talking to herself. "How
something… so small can cause so much pain." She finished looking
at the blood-covered knife. Blood. It covered him,
his chest, getting soaked in the waistband of his jeans. "How much
did it hurt?" she whispered. Then out of nowhere, she was mad
again. "Is it just me or does everyone have to have the fucking
blond?! Am I always going to be second best?! I can tell you're
thinking of her!" She screamed punching him in the face. "Stop!"
Spike closed his eyes and tried to gather his strength.
Willing the scream in his throat to be silenced. He couldn't say a
word. He didn't try. It seemed impossible to stop the pain. She
just kept adding to it. At first he thought the Slayer, Buffy, would
waltz in wanting information or something. But even the slightest
hope of Buffy finding him was gone now. He needed to get this girl
away from him, out of his crypt. On his own. A Half Hour
Later Faith stepped away and watched Spike hang from his
wrists unconsciously. His pale body covered in so much blood. She
looked down at her hands. Blood covered every inch of them. Every
inch of it was his. "Come on, Billy." She said snapping out of
her daze. "Wakey wakey." She grabbed hold of a hot poker that was
still sticking out his leg. She shook it. Spike inhaled
sharply, "Bloody… stop." He whispered. "You want me
to stop?" She asked pulling the poker out in one swift move.
"Aggh!" Was his muffled cry. Faith moved back to
her bag and pulled out her bottle of holy water. "It's weird."
She repeated from earlier. "Some people don't believe in God,"
She explained. "If there isn't a God. This shouldn't hurt."
She poured some holy water onto her palm. Spike watched as
she placed the palm of her hand down flat on his chest, she watched
the pain flicker across his face, she could feel his skin sizzle and
burn underneath her warm palm. He didn't scream. ----
Buffy and Riley patrolled the cemetery. "You're you
don't… want me to stay?" Riley asked. Buffy shook her
head, "Positive." She smiled. "I need to stop by Spike's
crypt anyway. See if he knows anything about the new big bad."
"Adam's gonna be hard, Buffy, and I don't trust Spike."
"I don't either… but he was in there. You know as a
prisoner. He might know something." She said. ----
Faith took her holy water and poured some into the cap. She
spilled a small amount into the long cut on his stomach. His insides
literally burning now, he bellowed out, screaming in pain as his
blood sizzled and burned in unspeakable agony. Faith backed
away, to her fire taking his shirt and wrapping it around her hand
again. "So, Billy, I've only got three pokers… there's too
many body parts." Buffy walked into the old crypt,
something was wrong. She could feel it already. "Spike?" she
called softly, the place smelt like fire, smoke, and… blood. Buffy
walked further into the crypt looking down in the rabbit hole. She
jumped down and walked further in. "Spike?" She called again,
louder. Buffy's eyes widened when she saw him, hanging
motionless from the ceiling. His face seemed untouched. Except for
the bruise on his right cheek, the rest of him was a disaster area.
Blood. Blood covered his body, from head to toe. In his right arm he
had a poker sticking through it. She winced at the look of him. His
chest, covered in gallons of blood, too much blood. She couldn't
even see where the wounds were. There was a poker sticking out from
right above his bellybutton. Not having time for her brain to
tell her that she didn't care, she rushed to him. Buffy looked
down, her boots covered in the blood that bathed the floor. His
blood. She grabbed the silver key from the table just next to him.
Then froze. "Spike?" She whispered again. A sob caught in her
throat. Spike blinked open his heavy eyes when he heard her
voice. To much concern to be Faith's voice. There was the blond
slayer standing before him. He could hardly lift his head to say
anything. His whole body hurt. Pain. But at the same time, relief
fluttered in the pit of his stomach. "B-B…ffy?" Buffy
nodded, "I'm going to get you down." She promised. Spike
nodded. Buffy hesitated and then put the key in her jacket
pocket. She watched as panic flashed before his eyes, "I need to
get these things out you, first." Buffy explained. She saw him
slowly slipping into unconsciousness. Spike blinked a few
times, trying to fight off the darkness that was slowly consuming
him. Buffy moved closer to him she went to grab the poker in
his stomach but pulled back as soon as she touched it and hissed in
pain. His eyes opened instantly, checking to make sure she
was okay. Buffy looked around the room for something to help
her. Anything. Spike noticed she was fine and closed his
eyes. Willing the pain away. Buffy looked around franticly
and her eyes fell on the shirt next to the little bon fire. She
grabbed it seeing all the bloody knifes and other torture devices on
the floor next to the fire. She inhaled, willing herself not to get
sick. She wrapped the shirt around her palm and made her way back to
Spike. "This will hurt." Buffy whispered gripping the
poker. She pulled it out in a swift move. Spike screamed out in
agony. "Only one more." Buffy whispered again, reassuring him.
She gripped the one in his arm, she realized how much this
would hurt and closed her eyes and she pulled it out. Spike shrieked
loudly. His eyes snapping open and she smiled lightly at him, "T's
okay, that was the last of them." She whispered. She
grabbed the key out of her pocket again and reached up, one hand at a
time. He fell on her, completely needing her for strength. She held
him around the waist and slowly made her way to the bed, dumping an
unconscious Spike down gently. She sighed, she needed to get
him out of those jeans, but first she needed to clean off the blood.
She looked around and got up from the bed, she moved to his kitchen
area grabbing a bowl, filling it with some warm water and grabbed an
old black shirt she found lying around. On the way back to
the bed she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the shower area. A
mirror, she walked up to it. Her eyes widening at the woman looking
back at her, her hair was almost completely red, from the blood, her
hands and clothes drenched in the thick red liquid. She came
back into the room with her hair up in a ponytail and her jacket off,
she walked to the bed. He hadn't moved. At all. She sat down next
to him, placing the bowl and cloth next to her. She slowly started to
clean him. Starting with his chest. She worked her way down. Slowly
cleaning the blood away and cleaning the cloth into the pool of
water. After mopping away all of the blood, she looked at the damage
and winced. There was a burn on his side that looked like it
was in the shape of a handprint. There was a cut right below his
breast. A huge gash across his lower stomach and of course the holes
in his stomach and arm. That was all she could see, or all
her mind would allow her to see. She looked down at the
bloody water and sighed she took the bowl and moved to the "Torture
Room" and moved to the tin with the fire. She dumped the water on
it, watching as the poker in there still sizzled and smoked. She
looked back at the sleeping Spike and walked toward him, she grabbed
his blanket and covered him with it, the light blanket; she didn't
want it irritating any of his wounds. She looked at the pool
of blood underneath where the chains hung and closed her eyes.
Then. The questions came flooding to her.
