The Killing Field - XI
'A choice is made of free will
Just like the choice to kill
In the speed of a moment
Life stands still, now you're standing in my killing field'
- Killing Fields by Slayer
The Early Bird Motel
"What's it like there?"
Dawn's voice pierced Spike's consciousness and the vampire released an audible gasp as he sat bolt upright in his bed. A brief glance at the digital clock perched on the nightstand told him it was five in the evening, far too early for him to have considered rising of his own accord. Spike sighed and rubbed at his eyes more to delay Dawn's inquisition than to ward off fatigue. The several hours he had managed to steal had been more than enough to reinvigorate him.
Dawn hovered on the threshold of the doorway, her hand gripping the frame until her knuckles whitened. Spike could smell her fear.
"Where?" he asked eventually, realising that it would be both impossible and a little cruel to pretend that he had not heard Dawn's query.
"L.A." she replied, reluctantly entering the motel room and closing the door behind her with a quiet click. Spike smiled softly, delighted to find himself alone with the girl. The scent of her shampoo rolled off her thick chestnut hair in waves, and the low cut black shirt she wore over her jeans seemed to taunt Spike's fingers with his desire to caress the soft skin of her neck.
Spike hurriedly shook his head to dispel the forbidden thoughts, and affixed Dawn with a curious gaze instead.
"Did Giles send you in here?" he asked, suspicious of the old man's attitude towards him since his return. Spike knew that Giles had every right to be wary considering some of the previous years' events in Sunnydale, but Spike was reformed now and it angered him that Giles could not so readily accept that fact.
"Kind of," Dawn admitted, seating herself at the foot of the bed without invitation. Spike stiffened a little at her sudden proximity and deliberately leaned backwards so that his back rested against the padded headboard. In order to think clearly, he had to put as much physical distance between himself and Dawn as possible. This new effect she had upon him was highly disconcerting to Spike, who had only really experienced the demon lust with paramours past. However, his feelings towards Dawn belonged in an entirely alien league. Spike ached to touch her and had dreamed all afternoon of crushing his lips against hers, yet he was also overcome by the strongest desire to protect her, to keep her safe and to watch her flourish.
"So you're here to interrogate me then?" Spike demanded with a little more anger than he had warranted creeping into his tone. Dawn simply shrugged, neither phased nor intimidated.
"I guess so," she answered, smiling somewhat wickedly at the vampire as she added, "but this is kind of a new concept to me so I may need a little help."
Spike spluttered, language dying on the tip of his tongue. Eventually, he managed a nod, and Dawn began to look irritatingly pleased with herself.
"What do you wanna know then, love?" Spike sighed. He swung his legs around the side of the bed and blushed a little as he recalled that he had removed his pants before he had fallen asleep. Perhaps anticipating as much, Dawn had politely averted her gaze. She allowed Spike enough time to wriggle into his jeans before she turned once more to regard him.
"Is Angel still alive?" she demanded, wasting little time once she was satisfied that Spike was half way to becoming clothed. The vampire paused in his task of buttoning his shirt and glared at Dawn.
"You came in here to grill me on that raving poof?" he snarled, biting his bottom lip and using the pain to ground himself. "L.A.'s been sucked into Hell and you lot are still making Peaches your number one?"
Spike pursed his lips and slammed his fist angrily onto the surface of the nightstand, causing the mug that had stood on the edge to clatter to the floor. He had almost allowed his temper to get the better of him, but it would not do to unnecessarily subject Dawn to the demon within.
"No," Dawn bit back, rising to her feet and glaring at Spike, "I came in here to see if Buffy should have taken her Dust Buster into Hell with her, or if she actually stands a chance of finding Angel in one fully working piece. I want to know what's gone down in L.A. and if there's any way we can help Buffy and Willow get out alive."
Spike's anger subsided and he returned to his task of dressing in a more subdued manner. He found himself a little ashamed of his outburst, and his continuing jealousy of Angel.
"Last time I saw him he was alive," Spike finally replied, catching Dawn's eye momentarily. He expected her to look away, quickly and shyly as she would have done a year ago, but Dawn met Spike's gaze levelly.
"How long ago?" Dawn pressed, not fully satisfied by Spike's answer.
"Maybe three, four days," Spike replied, shuddering involuntarily, "gets a little hard to tell where one day ends and the next begins in Hell."
Dawn took a moment to digest this before launching into her next question. She was a relentless inquisitor, a quality that made her all the more admirable to the vampire.
"So why are you out here, if he's still in there?" she asked. Spike had been awaiting this particular question since his return, and guarded himself against the hurtful onslaught that would doubtlessly proceed his answer.
"Because I ran," Spike revealed, sinking onto the soft mattress and closing his eyes.
"You ran?" Dawn asked incredulously. In all the years she had known him, she had never believed Spike to so much as consider the option of retreat. Dawn shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, wondering what lay beyond the border of Los Angeles that was capable of instilling fear into even those hearts that did not beat.
"Like a little girl," Spike added, although his tone conveyed a distinct lack of humour. Dawn could almost sense the disgust and self-loathing radiating from the vampire, and she found herself frowning in response. She was still wondering how best to proceed with her questions when Spike spoke once again, this time in a low and morose tone that seemed strange coming from his lips.
"There were too many of them," Spike said, his eyes affixed on a spot on the carpet as he became entranced by a memory, "we fought them for a day. Gunn and Wesley only lasted an hour at most. It was brutal. Then the people started moving onto the streets from their houses, men and women and… they were trying to escape…"
Spike paused, sucking his breath in sharply on the back of his teeth. Dawn knew that it was an unnecessary action for the vampire to partake in, and presumed instead that it brought him some comfort. It was almost like watching a pantomime of living.
"They ripped them apart, still alive and screaming. Angel and I tried to stop them but there was too many and we had to fall back. They just kept coming, more and more, each one more bloody hideous and hungry than the last."
Dawn was listening rapt now, the fine hairs on the nape of her neck standing erect.
"We protected as many of them as we could, started herding them to the border, but when we finally got there…"
Spike fell silent and the seconds ticked by. Slowly, Dawn slid her hand across the duvet and brought it to rest on the vampire's knee. Spike shot her a grateful look.
"The force-field was already up," Spike continued, swiping at his eyes with his free hand in order to brush away the tears before they fell. Dawn pretended not to see, aware of Spike's need to remain unshakeable in her eyes.
"And then?" Dawn asked, hating herself for having to. Spike remained unmoving for a few moments before his voice picked up again.
"We made for the sewers. It was the only safe place we could think of," he said, shrugging as though it had been a simple matter. "We lost most of them on the way, but we managed to save a few."
"How many?"
After a beat, Spike smiled wryly, "Ten."
Dawn gasped, her hand fluttering to her mouth as the magnitude of the situation took hold of her. She felt unbearably nauseas and must have paled as Spike suddenly was at her side, allowing her to lean her body against his.
"From all those thousands of people…" Dawn began, shaking her head, "only ten?"
Spike could not have stood further silence, and felt the need to distract Dawn from her pain anyway.
"There were more in the sewers once we got down there. They were the smart ones who headed for the border before us and then underground when they couldn't get out."
"So that's where all the people are?" Dawn inquired, her eyes sweeping Spike's face. "They're living in the sewer?"
He nodded and found himself somewhat amused as Dawn wrinkled her nose at the thought.
"Beats being demon kibble," he reminded her, instantly regretting his misguided stab at humour as Dawn glanced at him sharply.
"You still haven't told me how you got out," she said, her eyes narrowing in an accusatory manner that Spike did not appreciate. Dawn withdrew her hand from his knee and folded her arms.
"Simple really," he replied, relieved that he had managed to finally reign his emotions in, "Angel and me took it in turns to scout the border, see if the old force-field had dropped, and I got lucky."
"You didn't go back for them?" Dawn demanded incredulously. To her chagrin Spike chuckled.
"I had no idea how long it would be down. Thought it was better to get out and call the cavalry. Suspected it was a trap for the Slayer or somethin', especially after the Dark Avenger decided to go strolling through her bloody dreams."
Dawn nodded, and after no less than a second had passed, she climbed to her feet again.
"Well, thanks Spike, you've been really helpful," she said, her tone betraying little. Spike stared after the girl, confused and irritated by the direction the conversation had taken.
"Wait," he called, jumping to his feet as Dawn turned to him, one eyebrow arched questioningly. "I'll er… see you later?"
Dawn silently slipped through the door, closing it behind her once again and plunging Spike into darkness. The vampire sighed and flung himself facedown on the bed, all the while fighting the urge to set himself alight with his Zippo.
With a growl, Spike muttered, "Women."