Title - Full Circle
Author – darkravine
Rating- MATURE - graphic violence, language and sex
Pairing- B/S, X/A, W/T
Summary - Post HB - Spike leaves Sunnydale and gets caught up in that pesky route of redemption, Buffy attempts to come to terms with her feelings, while a new evil arrives in Sunnydale.

Chapter 14: Last Stages

Giles sagged against his chains, the metal relentlessly biting through to his wrists. He winced as he felt the sticky warmth of blood trickle down his arm. Wonderful. Another thing on a long list to add to his discomfort.

Beside him, Xander groaned faintly. Giles turned his aching neck to the younger man, grimacing as he was reminded of the bad shape his cellmate was really in. Xander's skin was deathly pallid, hanging loosely off of his slightly portly body. They hadn't eaten in days; only water had been scantily supplied since their capture. Giles supposed that Elton had not wanted to bother with restroom trips. As it was, only twice had one of Elton's demons come with a bucket in which they were told to relieve themselves in. Giles had turned it down the first time, not willing to reduce himself to such standards, but after 36 hours of painful pressure on his bladder, he found himself welcoming the sight of the old bucket that Xander had mockingly nicknamed "Rusty".

"Hey," Xander croaked groggily, licking his parched lips. "How long was I out?" A note of worry crept into his voice. "Did I miss the water run?"

Giles sighed. "I'm afraid I'm not really sure. I've only just woken up myself."

Xander grunted. "Something's wrong. Buffy should have found us by now."

"Not necessarily." Giles shifted so as to support as much of his weight as possible. "This Elton fellow is quite powerful. He could have some sort of glamour spell on the place so as not to be seen."

Xander laughed dryly. "Just our luck. Willow's on the magic wagon just when we need her the most."

"There's always Tara."

Xander said nothing, knowing that although Tara was a talented wicca, she had never been quite in the same league as Willow. He suspected Giles shared his opinion, and he found within himself a sense of deep-felt gratitude for the older man for attempting to shelter him from the despair that lurked so close to the surface. He had never felt so much like a son before in his life.

He was just about to open his mouth to tell Giles as much when he was interrupted by the sound of plaster being smashed and a familiar British accented voice exclaiming, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Spike sauntered in shortly after, holding his fist as he cursed wildly. He seemed oblivious to them, pacing around like a claustrophobic with A.D.D., muttering something under his breath.

"Oh, lookey," Xander said sarcastically. "It's our best friend. What's the matter? Got an ouchie?"

Spike whipped his head around quickly, surprise reflected in his blue eyes. "They moved you," he stated distractedly.

Xander nodded. "Yeah. A couple of …" He trailed off and shook his head. "Actually, I have no idea when." He winced as his raw wrist rubbed against his chains a little too roughly. "So, what brings you to this corner of the Hellmouth? Come to taunt us? Because, really, it won't work. Lack of nourishment has really improved my ability to pass out on demand. Now, I can lose consciousness just by thinking about Pizza Hut."

Spike was strangely silent as he resumed his pacing, absently rubbing the bloodied knuckles of his left hand.

Xander rolled his eyes. "You know, I thought I was talking . . ." He sighed in disgust as Spike made his way to the wall opposite of them and proceeded to sit. "So now you're just going to sit here with us? Share in our pain? Like we're old friends?"

Spike tilted his head to one side and regarded Xander coldly. "Hardly." He rooted around his pockets for his cigarettes until he held up one triumphantly. "We were never friends." He practically spat the last word out, and Giles was left wondering if that was bitterness he was hearing.

"You can say that again. The only reason we put up with you for so long was because Buffy had this really strange set of ethics. She seemed to think it was wrong to dust a defenseless evil thing." Xander smirked. "Something tells me she won't have a problem with dusting you now, and I, for one, hope I have front-row seats to that ass-kicking."

Giles observed the blond vampire thoughtfully as Spike cupped his hands around the cigarette and flicked the lighter on. The orange glow from the flame made his features appear more human, softening the sharp angles of his face and giving the illusion of color on pale skin. But then the lighter flicked off and the illusion was gone, tempered only by the burning tip of the cigarette that he brought to his lips.

Giles noted absently that Xander was still talking, attempting to save face when there was really no face to save, at this point. He was directly insulting Spike now, trying to draw him out. But Spike was behaving rather oddly, outright ignoring Xander without a hint of a snarky reply waiting to be sprung. Instead, he stared vacantly at a point on the wall behind them, the occasional drag on his cigarette his only movement.

Xander turned his head to face Giles. "Is it me, or is Evil Undead here doing a really good impersonation of Nick Andros from The Stand?" He rolled his eyes at Giles' blank stare. "Come on! The Stand? Stephen King miniseries a few years back? Rob Lowe plays a deaf-mute? Oh, nevermind." Xander sighed heavily.

Giles silently prayed for the patience that had long abandoned him and shook his head wearily. Spike was no longer staring at the wall now. His eyes were trained on the ground in front of him, and a long column of ash was all that remained of the cigarette that lay forgotten in his right hand. Giles narrowed his eyes. Something was incredibly off with the vampire, and the quiet demeanor wasn't the only indication.

"Something you wanted, mate?"

Giles started as the blond vampire's eyes rolled up to meet his. He noticed immediately the emptiness in his expression, the dullness of his eyes, the stoic manner. This was definitely not the Spike of old. The old Spike would have taken immense pleasure in their predicament, most definitely baiting Xander about his conquest over Buffy, possibly even indulging himself in a few rounds of light torture. And the boasting. One cannot reflect on the Spike of old and forget about the blond's weakness for bragging it up. Yes, he would, without a doubt, be gleefully crowing right about now.

Certainly not lulling about, looking as if someone had just shot his best friend.

Giles issued him a tight smile. "No, no. You just go about your business. Continue your little performance, if you will."

Spike's eyebrow shot up. "What?"

Hmm. Curious. "Oh, I only meant your little brooding session over there. It's quite amusing. I don't think anyone has managed to channel Angel so thoroughly as you have right this very moment. Really, it's perfection. Cheers, mate." Giles smirked as he watched the anger flash in the vampire's eyes and roll through the rest of his body until it finally propelled him to stand up abruptly.

"I do NOT brood." Spike was in front of him almost instantly, his face inches away from his own. "If you value your life, you'll learn to keep your mouth shut." The two Brits exchanged a long cold glare before Spike dropped his eyes and took a step back.

Giles continued to stare at the vampire, and Spike grew increasingly uncomfortable under the Watcher's gaze. He shuffled about, looking anywhere but at Giles, padding his pockets for his cigarettes, only to return them to his pocket untouched. Giles watched with growing interest, his expression hardening with measured suspicion. "Just what are you playing at, Spike?" he asked, his voice uncommonly low and streaked with unsteady realization.

Spike did not answer, but his actions quieted until he was standing completely still. Giles' expression further hardened. "Answer me, damn it!"

Spike slowly rolled his eyes up to regard Giles, smiling stiffly. "Nothing I can't handle, mate." He shrugged a shoulder.

Giles leaned back into the wall and shook his head slowly. "You're a bloody fool," he whispered, closing his eyes to the vampire before him.

Spike guffawed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well. To each his own an' all that rot," he muttered as he turned toward the entranceway. He stood completely still, craning his neck as if he was listening for something. After a few moments, he drew himself up straight and casually lit up a cigarette.

Xander glanced at Giles and raised an eyebrow questionably. He had the distinct impression that something important had just transpired between Giles and Spike, and that they apparently had been speaking in some sort of secret code that none of his comic books had covered. He opened his mouth to say something, but Spike was quick to cut him off.

"Don't say anything you might regret, you ninny," he ground out threateningly. Something in his tone bothered Xander, and for once he was inclined to do as he was told. He sighed in frustration and settled back into his chains just as three of the Puisie midgets arrived. They were newly armed, each of them brandishing a crude-looking knife. Spike nodded curtly to them before stubbing out his cigarette.

"So, Elton finally getting around to those plans of his?" he asked.

One of the demons grunted in response and Spike brought his hand up to his forehead, briefly closing his eyes.

"Something wrong with you?" the demon asked, his eyes betraying his suspicion.

Spike quickly waved him off. "S'nothing. Just a headache. Nothing a good kill won't fix." He smiled wryly and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And Anya? She still refusing to obey our great leader?"

Giles heard Xander sigh in relief, and for once, he felt a sense of appreciation for the vampire. Xander was now, thankfully, aware that Anya was at least for now alright, and Spike had found a way to let him know it without setting off any red flags with Elton. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that what Spike lacked in common sense he more than made up for in raw intelligence. So strange, that Spike's schemes had never managed to work out successfully before. His eyes darkened, distinctly aware that this newest scheme would most likely have the same result.

The Puisie midget nodded slowly. "That's why we're here. Elton wants this one," he jerked a thumb at Xander, "and he told us to be quick about it." The two other Puisie midgets produced keys and immediately started unlocking the locks that held the chains around Xander.

Xander looked at Giles and then Spike. "What does he want with me?"

Spike shrugged and smiled slightly. "I reckon you're the bartering chip."

"Bartering chip?" Xander grunted as one of the Puisie midgets hauled him over one shoulder. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Spike didn't answer, instead he looked away as the Puisie midgets disappeared with Xander around the corner. After a few moments, he took a deep breath and ventured a glance at Giles. "I suppose I should watch. Always did want to see the whelp tortured, although I always thought it'd be me inflicting it. Pity, that." He turned to follow.

"Wait."

Spike froze, but didn't turn to face him. "What is it?"

"You don't have to do this, you know."

"Yeah, I do." Spike turned around and shot Giles a glare that could melt the polar ice caps. "When are you bloody white caps going to get it? I'm a vampire. This is what I was meant to do. You're just like her, you know," he scoffed. "Thinking I should change for the better when all she's ever told me is that I can't. That no matter what, I'll never be like you all." He shook his head slowly. "No, I was meant to find Elton in New York. I know that now. And I cannot wait to show you pillocks exactly what I'm capable of tomorrow." He held Giles' gaze for a moment before turning and striding purposefully back in the direction the Puisie midgets had taken Xander.

"My dear, all you have to do is say yes." Elton lightly traipsed his fingers down Anya's neck and leaned his head so his lips were a breath away from her ear. "Then you can see what power really feels like."

Anya cringed and jerked her head away from him. "Get the hell away from me." She mustered up as much courage as she could and glared at him. "I can't wait until Buffy gets here and kicks your ass."

Elton smiled knowingly. "Yeah, that'll happen." He nodded at the doorway, and Anya's breath caught in her throat as she saw Xander forcefully pushed through, his hands bound behind his back as three Puisie midgets guided him to stand in front of Elton.

"Xander," she whispered, her eyes beginning to tear.

Relief flooded through Xander as his fell on Anya tied to the chair, apparently unharmed. "Thank God, he didn't hurt you. Don't worry, Anya. Everything's going to be ok."

Elton laughed, shooting Xander a look that clearly indicated things were everything but alright. "I'm afraid you're sadly mistaken." He turned to Anya once again, and tilted his head to one side. "It's your choice, Anya. Either you agree to become a demon once again, or your boy toy gets an anatomy lesson."

Anya shook her head in confusion. "I don't get it. If you really wanted to make me a demon, why don't you just do it? Why do you have to threaten to hurt Xander?"

"Because," Elton began with forced patience, "you have to be willing. It won't work unless you want to actually become a demon."

Xander watched the exchange and furrowed his brow. "You want her to be a demon again?"

Elton rolled his eyes. "This doesn't concern you."

"The hell it does!" Elton turned to glare at the angry dark-haired boy. Xander ignored Elton and looked at Anya, his eyes pleading. "Please, Anya. Don't do it. It's not worth it."

"But Xander-"

"Enough!" Elton bellowed. He forced down his frustration and issued Anya a tight smile. "This is your last chance." Two Puisie midgets grabbed Xander by each shoulder and held him tightly while the remaining one held up his knife. "Choose wisely."

Anya and Xander locked gazes, and Xander shook his head slightly. Tears sprung to Anya's eyes as she looked away, no longer able to face the man she loved. Elton followed the exchange and nodded irritably at the Puisie midget brandishing the knife.

Elton watched with growing amusement as Anya struggled to maintain her composure. She winced as Xander began to let the Puisie midget's artful use of his knife get the better of him. It wasn't long before the short hisses of pain escalated to full out screaming, and the tears fell freely from Anya's eyes. Elton grinned wickedly and sighed contentedly. No, it wouldn't be long now …

Spike did his best to mask his trepidation with indifference as he approached the area where he knew Anya was being held. The whelp's screams could be heard from a good distance off, and Spike's vampiric hearing only amplified it. He closed his eyes briefly and gathered the stones to cross the remaining length of blackened floorboards to the source of the commotion.

He wasn't prepared for the extent of harm inflicted on Xander. After all, he had only just left his sight less than ten minutes ago. They had removed his shirt, and shallow slices of red zig-zagged across the expanse of his bare chest. The blood from the cuts pooled at Xander's waist, building steadily until it overflowed, coursing over the waistband of his jeans. Spike made a mental note to try to keep his demon in check. He hadn't fed since that girl, after all, and the way that Xander was bleeding … well, apparently being tied up for the better part of a week hadn't hindered the boy's circulation.

Spike nearly gasped when his eyes reached Xander's face. The buggers had etched the fucking Mercedes symbol on one of his cheeks! Jesus. And they thought I was evil. Besides the knife handiwork, the Puisie midget had also applied a little brute strength. It appeared that Xander's nose was broken, and one eye was already purple and closed shut.

Elton turned to face him, and Spike desperately hoped he wasn't wearing the expression of disgust that he felt. Elton didn't seem to notice anything, however, and crooked a finger at him, beckoning him to approach. Spike nodded and quickly strode over.

"Come to enjoy the show?" Elton asked.

Spike laughed. "I could hear it from clear across the building."

Elton nodded amusedly and turned his eyes to Anya. "She's still being … difficult, though."

Spike observed the ex-demon and felt a pang of empathy. She looked so much like a little girl, her eyes heartbreakingly lost as she cried silently. "This demon guy," he said, changing the subject. "He just works his mojo and that's it? She won't be able to turn back?"

Elton narrowed his eyes. "Why do you ask?"

Spike shrugged a shoulder. "It's just they've got this witch on their side, and she's pretty powerful. Wouldn't want Anya to be turning back to her soulful self at a crucial point, if you see what I'm saying."

Elton shook his head. "No magic can change her back. Just the demon."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "The demon?"

"Yeah. If he gets killed, then everyone he's ever made dies with him. Something with his blood links him to the others."

Spike stubbed the toe of his boot into the blackened ground. "She'd be dead?"

Elton turned to look at him. "I honestly don't know. I've only seen it done on other demons. The kind of demon this thing makes … well, let's just say they're special." He grinned and turned back toward Xander, who's head was rolling precariously on his neck. The Puisie midget started working on Xander's arm, peeling his skin off slowly as if he were an apple. Xander let out one last scream before collapsing against his aggressors.

Elton furrowed his brow. "What happened?"

"He's unconscious, Sir."

Elton rolled his eyes. "Well, wake him up. We're not done here."

"No."

Spike and Elton turned to Anya. Her jaw trembled slightly as she raised her eyes to Elton. "Please, no more. He doesn't deserve this." She closed her eyes and added softly, "I'm not worth this."

Elton tilted his head to one side. "Does that mean you agree?"

Anya let out a shuddering sigh and nodded slowly.

"Great." Elton brought both his hands together and rubbed them against each other. "Now, dispose of the boy, and I'll send for the Trangor."

Spike's eyes flew to Anya's and then to Xander's prone form being lifted by the Puisie midgets. "Wait," he said, putting his hands up. He turned to Elton. "You're not really going to dispose of him, are you? I mean, he's still useful to us."

Elton cocked his head to one side. "How so? We already have the Watcher."

"The Watcher's all well and good, but Xander is one of her best chums. He's still valuable to us, mate. 'Sides, it's not like we have to worry about him escaping. Just look at him." He jerked his chin in the direction that Xander lay.

Elton sighed. "I suppose you're right. All right, then. Just put him back with the Watcher." The Puisie midgets nodded and hauled the unconscious Xander out of the room. "Well," Elton said, turning to Anya. "Should we get started?"

Anya nodded reluctantly as Elton turned to Spike. "Do you want to watch? It's really an amazing process."

Spike forced a smile. "Sure." He watched as Elton closed his eyes and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Moments later, he felt the tell-tale popping in his ears that was indicative of Elton's return. Black smoke billowed heavily into the room, as two figures stepped out from it. The first was Elton, smiling broadly as he stepped over to Anya and began untying her bonds. The second figure was much larger, as broad as he was tall. Two red eyes stared out from deep-set sockets. Spike almost laughed when the smoke cleared and the bright pink skin of the demon could be seen, but he quickly reconsidered when the Trangor shot him a glare. Deadly, that one.

"Okay," Elton said, pulling Anya up and pushing her towards the Trangor demon. "Here she is."

The Trangor took in Anya's shaking limbs and tearful countenance and looked back at Elton. "She's not exactly willing, is she?"

Elton's gaze did not waver. "Willing enough. Isn't that right, Anya?"

Anya shivered and let out a shaky breath. She looked towards the ground and nodded.

The Trangor demon shrugged uncaringly and lifted Anya's chin so she was staring him in the eyes. "Hold your palms out," he ordered.

Anya tentatively raised her arms so her palms faced the demon. The Trangor raised his arms as well, placing his enormous hands against her tiny ones. "Now," he breathed, closing his eyes. "This might hurt a little."

Anya screamed as sharp spear-like stickers jutted out from each of the Trangor's hands and pierced through her hands. But then the pain was gone, and she watched with a mixture of terror and fascination as a glowing pink substance traveled up the length of the Trangor's arm, through his hand, and finally through her hand. She felt the warmth of the demon's essence coursing through her, setting her insides on fire.

And then, everything went black.

"So, I guess we attack tomorrow then." Buffy paced around her living room. "Before Elton can set off that weird device thingy."

Willow nodded slowly. "But it's going to be tricky. I think, and bear with me for a second, I think we need to let him set that device off."

"Huh?" Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Will, did that little mind trip you went on damage the parts of your brain that actually do the thinking? Because setting off an interdimensional bomb hardly seems like the right course of action. At least, for the ones actually trying to save the world."

Willow rolled her eyes. "We just need it to open for a second. I swear. But," she glanced nervously at Tara and quickly looked back at Buffy, "Elton is extremely powerful. And I know I shouldn't even be thinking this, but I've gone over it a dozen times in my head, and there's no other way." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I have to use magic."

Tara's head shot up. "What? No, Willow. You can't."

Buffy nodded. "I agree with Tara, Will. It's too dangerous. I mean, who knows what the repercussions for what you've already done are going to be as it is. You can't just go around tempting fate."

Willow shook her head. "You guys don't understand. I've seen what Elton can do. What he's already done. He's too strong to defeat without magic." She broke off, her eyes starting to tear. "Xander, Giles, and Anya need our help. I can't just stand by and let them die. Because that's what's going to happen if we don't pull out all the stops. Even if I lose myself in magic, it'll all be worth it if they're safe."

Buffy put a hand on Willow's shoulder. "No, I'm not going to lose any of us. There has to be some other way."

Willow shook her head sadly and looked at Tara. "Do you honestly think I'd be so adamant about this if there were?"

Tara closed her eyes and turned away, crossing her arms over her chest. "I guess we should discuss how this is going to work, then." Willow winced, feeling her newfound bond with Tara slowly slipping out of her grasp.

Buffy shrugged helplessly. "Okay, Will. If you say this is the only way, I guess I'm going to have to take your word for it. How do we stop Elton?"

Willow took a deep breath and looked pointedly at Buffy. "First, there's something you should know. About Spike, and what he's planning to do." She shook her head. "You're going to have to kill him before he can."

Buffy's lips pressed together firmly and she brought her eyes to Willow's unwaveringly. "I know. I've known for awhile now. And I think I'm ready."