Chapter Thirty-Six

Language was a modal shift he no longer had the skills to comprehend. Smells slammed into the blackness of his mind and encouraged an opening to light. Beats of life gripped him in lust for blood and he crept ever closer to awareness. Growls tore from his throat without knowledge, low and feral as he fought for comprehension. When movement at last became possible, he leapt to his feet and scanned the bodies that surrounded him. The pumping hearts were almost deafening in their multitude and he swung his head back and forth assessing his prey. Primal need took over and his demon face usurped the other in a race of dominance. But as he raised his body of power to jump on the one restrained- her wary fear-filled eyes flicking from one body to another- the metallic clanking of chains made him fumble and fall to his knees. Frantically he pulled and twisted to right his control, strength waning against the force of steel, and his growls increased both in volume and intensity.

His calculating gaze shifted back and forth between the figures and finally rested on one that dared to close in on him. This one was small and fair, but he could smell courage and power enough to cut off his continual growling. He stared at her, mystified by her daring and a little overwhelmed by her smell. He did not sense fear, but some other emotion that he had never experienced aimed at himself before. She was tearful, sad-and suddenly within biting distance. He had been quiet in his study of her, but as she made a sound-her soft mouth opening briefly to curve around that one word he could not understand-he lunged for her. With the aid of the chains he had her underneath him in an instant with his fangs buried deep in her throat.

In the flash of another second, he had retracted his fangs and was licking- nuzzling her neck like a lost, frightened cub to his mother. He sought reassurance and belonging, recognising her blood as home. He felt trapped all of a sudden, knowing with a depth that shocked him that these heartbeats were to be left alone. His home was not alarmed or frightened so he clung to her, holding her against his body hard while still swivelling to check out the others that had begun to move closer to him. His body began to shake in a division of want and need, and he felt his bloodlust battle to take over. Some tiny flash within him crashed with a buzz of pain and he hurt with a vision of blood red staining walls and floors.

Damage.

His damage.

He didn't understand these structures-- walls, doors, floors. The coverings all around him were strange, his own and the female that he held onto with his life. Everything was different and he started to howl his confusion and fear, gripping her to him all the more, then burying his face against her smooth skin as she returned his desperate embrace. Both of them now covered in tears, bodies shaking with terror and fire. While encompassed in her safe embrace he allowed the vision of others to recede and he surrendered all that he was to her, home. She would protect him now.

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After Buffy's harried instruction to accumulate near the door, the room had hushed. Surprisingly, the Scoobies were united in their concern for the vampire who had snuck his way into their sanctuary almost without objection. What objection had existed had all been swallowed up by fury at the blond psycho tied securely to one of Giles's dining chairs. The only sound voluble in the cramped space was the animalistic growling of Spike. Confidence dipped dramatically as his eyes swept abruptly over them, judging them as potential food.

Willow squeaked when Spike jumped to his unsteady feet, swaying but still unaware of his restraints. The electrified blue gaze fixated on Professor Walsh, and the Scoobies sighed in both relief and a vindictive pleasure that she might be attacked by her own creation. As Buffy moved closer and Spike changed his focus to her, Xander slumped in disappointment.

Her gentle and comforting call of his name, "Spike," had them all hoping and holding their breath.

All eyes watched the interplay nervously, hoping that Buffy's confidence would be rewarded, when they were all shocked to screams as he blurred in movement. They next saw Buffy securely held beneath him with fangs in her throat. Before anyone could move to stake him, though, he had retracted his teeth and lay against her in an intimate search for his place. All eyes were glued to the couple in fascination but also on the brink of embarrassment.

Taken over almost by a magnetic pull, they emerged from their restraint and began to gravitate back toward them. His frantic looks caused them to halt but already there was a sense of calm and commitment to whatever was to be done. The Scooby group joined their blond warriors in tears, almost unbidden but in support for the wrench that had become their existence. As Spike began to meld into Buffy, they all turned back to Maggie Walsh and shared a satisfied smirk at her look of outrage and disappointment.

Giles stomped forward in force, ready to smack her again if need be.

"I guess you underestimated this...creature...that you created. Or maybe primal demons weren't so ferocious as you'd hoped?" He sneered at her, unreasonably chuffed that this potentially devastating experienced seemed within their control. The Scooby superiority seemed well-deserved at that moment, and he took a few moments to gloat, glancing briefly at Xander to find he had company.

"Right. Buffy. What do you need? Should we get him some pigs blood, to remind him what he is used to feeding on?"

Appreciation settled on her face as she turned to her Watcher and smiled happily, if not tiredly.

"That would be perfect, Giles. I think we should keep him out here with us. I don't want him to think we've abandoned him."

As everyone at last felt at ease they found a place or chair to relax and fell upon it in tremendous relief. They sat in quiet contemplation-- the only sound microwave pings announcing perfectly heated blood-- and all jumped in surprise when there was a demanding knock at the door. A sharp glance around confirmed that pretty much everyone that they knew was already squished into the flat, but as Buffy rested her eyes back on her mate her confusion cleared.

"Giles," she said as she took the mug of blood from his hands, a bendy straw pointing right at her. "I think it might be Angel."

Giles looked at her in understanding before hurrying to the door. Opening revealed an extremely pissed off vampire in gameface who brushed aside the Watcher as he practically flew to his Childe in a swirl of black, leathery menace.

He turned to take in the hostage, the Scoobies, and what appeared to be the military in an escalating fury.

"What the fuck have you done to William?"