Chapter 21 - The Ultimate Sacrifice
Buffy felt the change in the world as it happened. She couldn't have described which sense it was that gave her the information, she just knew. She also knew by the way his body had tensed, that Spike felt it too.
The humans gathered at the Hellmouth also sensed something. The faces of the hit team were bleak. The others held more sadness. It was a while before anyone could speak.
Bill Small seemed to be the first to recover. He started giving orders, sending out not only his own team, but also the others to find out what was happening in the area. Giles was surprised, and said so.
"So, what are you going to do? Go back to your books? It hasn't made an ounce of difference so far, and it won't now. We've got to see if we can change things - somehow undo this, and that means getting out there."
Giles shook his head. "I agree there is a place for gathering information on the current situation, but I must insist that some of us do exactly what you seem to despise. We need to understand how to defeat Sinistra. The information is there, we just have to understand it. And, I must insist that Buffy and Spike come with me. They are central to the prophecy. All my efforts to understand it will come to naught if Sinistra gets to them. They are the only hope now, and I fully intend to do everything I can to defeat Sinistra. I know I can do it. I just need the key - something to build the translation around. When I've got that, the rest will be, well, if not easy, at least possible."
He turned to Grianne and Alasdair. "I'll understand if you wish to go with Bill, but I can use your help. There is a lot to do, and I'm sure I can keep you busy."
The other two looked at one another, and a silent communication passed between them. "We're with you," Grianne answered for both.
Small gave them a disgusted look before mentally rearranging his teams. "Stephen, you haven't said anything. Do you want to go back to the books, or do you want to actually do something about this?"
Stephen looked embarrassed. He could see both points of view, and knew Giles was right, but he also knew that up to date information was important. With a silent plea for understanding towards Giles, he said, "I'm with you, Bill. But we need to report back to the house. It'll still be the safest place for a base. It's hidden, and I'm not sure how effective it'll be against Sinistra, but it's the best we've got."
"Ok, Stephen, you take Walker and McLean. Barber, you take Smith and Lincoln. I'll take Wilson and Mullaney. Stephen, hit the centre of town. Barber, you head south, I'll head north. Get back to the house as soon as you've got important information, or by noon at the latest.
There were nods as the three groups headed out.
Those remaining gathered their belongings and emerged a short while later. The first thing they noticed when they came out into the night, was the sky. It was still dark, but it was a different type of dark. There was nothing clear or wholesome about the darkness. There were no stars visible. The air had a cloying consistency that made it seem hard to breathe.
The drive back was made difficult by the aftermath of the earthquake. Many buildings were without glass, and the roads were cracked in many places. Fortunately, they were the right side of the chasm, which now seemed to cut Sunnydale quite effectively in two. There was no evidence of the supernatural cause of the earthquake as yet.
The mood was sombre when they arrived at the house. Giles headed straight to the phone to call his family. It was a difficult conversation, despite their report that they hadn't sensed the changes yet. It seemed that Sinistra's influence would increase gradually. When they turned on the television, it was apparent that most of the US was still unaware of what had happened. That gave them time, but Giles' work on the prophecy was still the highest priority. He headed for his papers, which were spread over the table in the main room. Alasdair and Grianne went with him, willing to search, fetch or carry as the need arose.
Buffy and Spike decided they could help later. They needed some time alone. There was another room on the ground floor, which hadn't been much used since their arrival. It had several, large, squashy armchairs in it, and they went in, closing the door behind them. Had their bedroom been more comfortable, they might have gone there, but this seemed a good alternative. Spike sat in the largest chair, pulling Buffy onto his lap. They sat in silence for some time, lost in contemplation. The change in atmosphere they had sensed earlier was, if anything, stronger than it had been, and both found it oppressive. Instinctively, they sought comfort.
They had fed from one another during their time together, sometimes for sustenance, sometimes during moments of passion. They had rarely fed simply for the comfort it could bring. There was no discussion, they both simply bared their necks, and they drank.
The blood of Sire or childe intoxicated them both. For a long time they fed, taking blood very slowly, savouring each sip. They were no longer aware of the world, only of one another. That was the reason they didn't notice the door opening.
Giles stood in the doorway watching the two vampires while a spectrum of emotion flitted across his face. The first was rage. Spike was feeding from Buffy, hurting her. This was replaced by embarrassment when he realised that she was not being hurt, and that this was mutual feeding. He knew this was something intensely personal, and he wished they'd gone to their bedroom before becoming so intimate. The next expression was triumph.
The phrases in the translation, which were causing him so many problems, were tumbling through his head constantly. Their meaning as a whole escaped him, but there were constant hints of their importance. As he watched, those hints became more concrete. His mind was filled with a picture of the night Buffy had been killed. Spike had fed from her as he was doing now. It was then that Spike had taken part of her soul, when he was draining her lifeblood. He suddenly realised he understood one phrase in the prophecy. With that to work from, he turned his back and headed back to his papers with renewed enthusiasm. He had his first phrase, his frame of reference.
He didn't explain to Grianne and Alasdair when he returned to them. He simply started working feverishly, scribbling on a piece of paper. Within twenty minutes he stopped and stared at what he had written. His sudden stillness signalled to the others that he had found something significant, and they stood up to look over his shoulder.
"You can't be serious." Alasdair's voice seemed loud in the silence.
Roused from his thoughts, Giles shook his head, then took off his glasses. As he cleaned them, he spoke. "I'm afraid I am. I .. I saw them - Buffy and Spike. When I went out a few minutes ago. They were feeding from one another. They didn't even know I was there, but when I saw it, I knew. It was when Spike drained Buffy that he took part of her soul. It had to be. And, logically, to reunite it, she has to drain him. I can't see another possibility. And when I took my idea, and applied it to the rest of the translation, it all made a horrible sort of sense."
"But think what that'll do to him," Alasdair argued. "You can't do that. You can't ask her to do that."
"I know what it'll do to him. It will send him mad with pain. I know that. And the only cure will be fresh, living blood. He won't have any restraint, and he'll need to kill to stop the pain. And, I don't know how I'm going to tell them."
"I don't think you have to worry about that," Grianne said, looking towards the door. The two vampires were standing there. Spike looked even paler than usual, but Buffy was livid.
"Forget it." Her voice was quiet, but her anger all too evident. Her eyes were trained on Giles, and they showed clearly that he had betrayed her.
Spike had a hand on Buffy's shoulder, and he was consciously trying to calm her. She shrugged his hand away and advanced towards Giles. Most men would have stepped back, away from her flashing eyes and apparently murderous intent. Giles stood his ground. She raised a hand to hit him, but Spike caught her hand and turned her to face him.
"Buffy, Love, listen. He's right. You know he's right. And if it's the only way to put this right, you'll do it. It's what you do. You're the Slayer."
"But, I can't. I can't let you suffer like that. And I can't let you feed after, so the pain won't end. I can't do it." Buffy's voice was breaking with emotion.
"You can, Pet. But, you'll have to stake me after. You're right, you can't let me go back to killing. I'd lose you if I did, and I can't live like that."
The others had looked on while the two vampires spoke. Grianne had tears in her eyes, and Alasdair and Giles kept clearing their throats. Buffy looked around, desperately searching for support from one of the others. She saw none, and turned and ran from the room.
Giles turned to the vampire he had once hated and said, "I'm sorry. I don't see any other way. If there was…"
Spike saw the regret on his face, and placed a hand on the other man's arm. "It's ok, Watcher. It makes sense. And, don't worry about Buffy. If I have to, I'll use the bond to make her do it. Just, ... just promise, if she won't stake me, you will, because by that time, I doubt I'll be coherent enough to make her do it."
Giles nodded dumbly to this request.
Alasdair was shaking his head, trying to see an alternative. "Wait, let's make sure I understand this. If Buffy drains him, he'll need blood. Bagged blood won't appease the demon, is that right?"
Both Spike and Giles nodded.
"How about animal blood?"
Another shake of the head.
"Ok, it has to be human, and alive." He took a deep breath. "In that case, he can have me."
Spike was the first to respond. "Wait, mate, you can't do that. I'd kill you. The pain is, well you don't want to know what it's like. I won't be thinking straight. The demon will be in control. Before, when Angelus did that to me, I'd be chained up. When he eventually sent Dru to feed me, the poor sod she gave me would just about get torn to shreds."
Alasdair walked closer to Spike so that he was looking straight into his eyes. "I trust you."
The import of these words hit Spike like a heavy weight. He looked at the highlander, desperately trying to understand what he had done to inspire such trust.
Giles interrupted. "Wait, Alasdair, I'm not saying you're wrong to trust him, although I think you're being a bit optimistic, but he'll need more blood than you can give without irreparable damage. Even if he can control it, he'll need more than you can give."
Grianne spoke up. "Then he can have me too."
This was too much for Spike. He walked away from the others, sitting on a chair at the far end of the table, and putting his head in his hands. He was in a maelstrom of feelings. It had started with fear and desperate unhappiness and love all rolled together. The last few moments had added others he couldn't even name.
Giles looked at the other two. He could see the determination on their faces, and understood. They considered Spike to be a friend, and they trusted him with their lives. They were probably being incredibly naïve, but they were right. He still had to understand the detail of how Buffy draining Spike would allow her to defeat Sinistra, but she needed to have hope. Fighting without hope is almost a guarantee of failure.
With a nod, Giles signalled his acquiescence. "He can drink from me, too."
The other two greeted his words with a smile, and Alasdair clapped the Englishman on the back. "But, Grianne, if there's anything you can do to help with this, it'd go down well. I trust Spike, but I'm not sure about his pain-maddened demon."
Grianne gave a small, mirthless smile. "I'll see what I can come up with."
"Someone should tell Buffy," Alasdair reminded the others.
"I don't think she'll listen to me," Giles replied, his voice saddened when he remembered her reaction to his idea.
"Without speaking, Spike got up and left the room. He kept his face turned away from the others as he left, unwilling to allow them to see the tears in his eyes, and headed downstairs.
When she heard the door open, Buffy yelled, "Go away," without moving from her position on the bed. She was lying on her stomach, her head in her arms.
"Buffy," Spike started.
She ignored him.
He sat on the bed and started to run his hands over her back, feeling the sobs which still shook her body. He lay on his side beside her, and after a few moments, she turned to face him, her tearstained face seeing his - almost a mirror for her own.
He explained the offer that Alasdair and the others had made. His voice was awe-struck as he described the sacrifice they were willing make. Buffy shared a lot of this feeling, but understood it better. She had spotted the closeness that had sprung up between Spike and Alasdair. It had initially made her slightly jealous, as she had been so used to having Spike all to herself. That the others were also willing made her grateful. She just hoped their trust was justified.