Author's note: Continuation of the trigger warning thing. And a bad bad word.

Lucas let out a hiss of breath as the metal entered his leg. He pushed down fast, and dropped the chain, shaking. When Spike reached out and started to collect the free flowing blood in his palm, Lucas had to look away. "Is it working?" He asked, squeezing his eyes closed.

There was a quiet slurping sound and Lucas' stomach lurched at the thought. "Yeah, no shocks." Spike's voice answered him, sounding strangely labored.

"Just… just hurry up." Lucas rasped. He wanted to clutch at the wound for some sort of relief, but knew it would hamper the progress.

A scream ripped out of his mouth when Spike carefully probed the injury with his hand. "Shit, sorry kid. I'm just trying to get it out faster."

"I'm not a kid." Lucas panted, balling his hands into tight fists. "That… that didn't activate the chip?"

Spike didn't answer right away, and Lucas heard the stomach turning sound again. "No, I wasn't trying to hurt you. I've bumped into people before and been fine. Somehow, it understands intent."

"That's kind of amazing."

"Not the word I tend use for it."

"Oh, right, sorry." He opened his eyes, and had to close them almost immediately. "The room is spinning. That's bad, right?"

Spike leaned back slightly, "depends, are you going to puke on me?"

"Don't think so."

"Then no, well… yes, your body is reacting to the blood loss. But good for what I'm trying to do." Spike resumed his work.

Lucas groaned, "how much longer, this really sucks." He started to giggle loudly. "Sucks… and you're…"

"Are you cold yet?"

"No, not really." Lucas caught his breath long enough to take stock of himself. "I do feel really weird." He opened his eyes again, and tried to focus on them.

Spike nodded at him. "You're getting delirious, but not cold, so just a bit longer."

"Why do you think I'm delirious?"

"Because you just had a laugh about me draining your blood."

"Oh… fair point." He leaned his head to the side, and sighed. "It doesn't hurt… any… more." His breath was becoming difficult, and Spike stopped to stare at his pale face.

"Hey!" He shook the young man. "Stay with me."

"Why?" Lucas giggled again. "You're doing all the fighting… I'm… I'm just the fuel. Think of me like a protein shake."

Spike pulled on the chain, and it came half way out of the wall. "Because I'm not done yet, and the longer you stay awake, the better your chances of living."

"I don't think that's true." Lucas whispered faintly, wearily closing his eyes again.

"Fine, maybe it's the only way I know I'm not just flat out killing you. And I like some light conversation with my dinner."

A ghost of a smile played at Lucas' lips, but he didn't respond. "Damn it." Spike started pressing on the wound again, preparing himself to pay the price. When nothing happened, he drank as rapidly as he could. "This better not mean you're about to die." He muttered through mouthfuls.

Spike could feel a stirring inside of him he hadn't felt for years. A strength and vitality he had forgotten was ever part of him. With great difficulty, he pulled away from the weeping injury and ripped at the chain holding Lucas to the wall. It tore free from the bolt, and he twisted the collar off his own neck. "Alright, then."

Working quickly, but carefully, he used the prepared shirt and belt to stop the bleeding, and balled up the chain. He picked the thin teen up, resting the chain on his chest. Spike wanted to take it completely off, but understood it may damage Lucas' body farther than it already was.

The vampire paused, his ear cocked to Lucas' chest, after he was satisfied he could still hear a heartbeat, he crossed the small room. Kicking the door open and only slowing to snatch up the bag smelling of pig's blood, he charged from the prison cell.

The outer room was empty, much to his relief, and there was only one other door to choose from. Spike stopped and popped open the container of blood, suspiciously sniffing it before swallowing it in a couple gulps. "Ehg, nothing at all like the real thing." He tossed the bag behind him, and headed for the door.

It too, opened easily under the force of his boot. But this larger room was not empty, Warren spun in shock when he heard the noise of the door crashing open. Dr. Kerchum turned a bit slower, but looked much less surprised. "I guess you weren't so protective of your young friend." He said scathingly, directing Doyle with a hand gesture.

Spike shrugged and carefully slid Lucas to the floor. "I did what I had to, told you that bloody chip didn't do much."

"That's a shame, he could have done quite a bit for me."

Spike closely watched the bug demon approach him, "so I'll just be going then."

"What's the rush?" Dr. Kerchum, asked watching the impending fight with great interest. "Doyle so rarely gets enough exercise. This will be good for him."

"Take him to a bloody dog park." Spike growled, shifting into a defensive crouch. He attempted to position himself in front of Lucas without being obvious, but Warren caught the action, and started for the unconscious blonde.

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing? Saving some for later?"

"Maybe I am, maybe I plan to chain him in my own little dungeon and make him pay for being such an annoying little shit." Doyle started to circle around, him and Spike followed with his eyes, while keeping his body facing Warren.

Dr. Kerchum raised an eyebrow, "so he isn't dead?"

"I got full." Spike snapped back. "What is it to you?"

"Everything." Was the short answer. "I can offer you your freedom if you just step out of the way."

Spike snorted, and smirked. "I think you've underestimated me. I don't need your backhanded deals to get my freedom."

"Even from the chip in your head?" Spike stopped following Doyle's movements, and stared at Dr. Kerchum.

"You can take it out?"

"Yes, very easily. We can do it today in fact."

Spike glanced down at the body sprawled behind him, a tangle of emotions crossed his face. He finally decided on fury, and aimed a kick at the thorax of Doyle, who was trying to sneak up on his flank. There was the satisfying crunch of exoskeleton, and the bug demon dropped to the ground, keening. "I'll have to decline."

"You are making a grave error." Kerchum informed him, gripping the arms of his chair tightly.

"Am I?" Spike smirked, "I might as well make another one then." He spun to Warren and swung a fist, connecting with the young man's jaw. Warren fell like a stone, and Spike dropped to one kneel holding his head. "Nope, still seems like it's worth it."

Dr. Kerchum started to roll his chair backwards, looking for a way out that didn't involve the enraged and possibly insane vampire. "You want the boy? Fine, take him. I'll find another."

Spike stood, popping his knuckles and smiling manically. "For all this trouble, I think you owe me a little retribution." He raised his leg, and slammed the heel of his boot into the bug demon's head. There was another loud crunch, and it stopped moving. "A new pair of shoes for example. These seem to be ruined."

"I… I can get those, nicer ones even." Kerchum stammered and looked sickened by the goop splashed around the floor that had been his pet.

"What?" Spike sneered, "this bothers you? It's just a damn bug. There are millions of them. I'd be more worried about yourself, you're an endangered species, Doc."

Dr. Kerchum backed up again, until he hit the edge of a desk. Groping behind him, he flashed a smile and pushed a button. Blue and white bolts of light flashed down in the shape of bars, encircling him and his chair. "One of the projects I've been working on. Perhaps you would like to help test it before you leave?"

"I'm not stupid, I won't touch your little demon frying toy. You can test it yourself." Spike laughed, "I hope it breaks down and leaves you in there for a few days." He bent, and picked up Lucas again, hoisting him on his shoulder. He also took hold of Warren, but must less carefully, and dragged his sagging form by the collar.

"I know you probably don't give a damn, but your sorcerer's apprentice is coming with me for a bit. You can pick him up later. Willow wants a word with him."

"I'll find Lucas again, it doesn't really matter." Kerchum called after him. "I'll find a way to execute him and the people around him. He had a choice to part of greatness, and he threw that away."

Spike rested one hand on the doorknob, and cast a last look over his shoulder for the doctor. "You know you're douche bag, right?" He grinned at the sputters behind him, and pushed open the door into the daylight. The sun ached across him before Spike slammed the door closed again, his bare chest smoldering. He turned to Dr. Kerchum, "this is ruining my tell off, but do you have a blanket or something?"

Tim lifted his head when he heard the sirens coming, and saw Dawn racing towards them. She finally stumbled to a stop in front of Tara, gasping for air. "They…. they're on the way." She looked worriedly at Willow, her head cradled in Tara's lap. "How is she?"

"Her pulse is back, but not stable, and she has some burns from the energy bolts." Jayde reported quietly.

Dawn nodded, "any word on Lucas?"

Tim shook his head, "we're looking again as soon as the paramedics take her. And…" he paused when heard a sound behind him, and turned. A door opened, seemingly from nowhere, and a blond man wearing a torn trench coat stumbled out. He was carrying two males with him and dumped them, before running to find some shade.

The group watched him with wide eyes. "Lucas!" Jayde gasped, and ran to his side. She fought to hold in a shriek when she saw the bloody bandage wrapped around his leg.

"What happened?" Tim asked, shaking out of his shock. "Was he shot?"

"No," Spike called from the other side of the street, under a large tree. "I bloody well was the one shot. He… he just helped me get both of us out."

Tim snapped his head around to stare at the partially hidden vampire. "What do you mean?" Spike didn't answer, but subconsciously licked his lips. Tim looked from him to the bandage, and then started to storm to the tree. "You fed on him?!"

"I… I had… he made me…" Spike stammered, stumbling backwards in an effort to escape the irate communications officer.

"He made you?" Tim's face was twisted in rage. "You killed him, you sick motherfucker!"