Chapter 9 – Wednesday, Standard Reality

The walk back to her house was difficult, but they had to be quick, as it wasn't long until sunrise. Buffy's first impression was right. The thing they'd taken from the loading bay was vaguely human in shape – probably male – and thankfully unconscious. Her Slayer sense prickled slightly, and she didn't think it was just Spike that caused it. The creature had been tied to a pole in the middle of the loading bay. Once in the basement, they laid it on a makeshift bed of blankets. As soon as that was done, Spike disappeared into the bathroom. When she listened outside the door, she could hear him being violently sick. Whatever the thing in the basement was, it had been grossly abused. She returned and waited for Spike and his explanation. The rest of the household was still asleep. Twenty minutes later, Spike reappeared. He seemed shaky, and if anything paler than usual.

"What is it?" Buffy asked him, no longer able to wait. "And why was it tied up in the loading bay?"

Spike avoided looking at the form on the blankets. "I think it's a vampire, and that it was left there to dust when the sun came out."

"A vampire?" Buffy looked horrified. "But what happened to it?"

"There's only one thing I know could do that to a vampire," Spike replied, looking ill again. "I heard, a few years ago, about a master vampire who had found a way to keep his minions in line which was more terrifying than anything anyone else had ever tried. You know that vampires dust in sunlight – well, it's the ultraviolet that does the most damage, although other wavelengths can have the same effect in time. The story goes that this Master had someone invent some special lamps which have exactly the right balance of wavelengths and light intensity to burn the surface of the skin, but not to cause combustion. A vampire can survive weeks or months of that. It's the ultimate punishment – imagine – it must be like being boiled alive – except you're not going to die. I heard it sometimes destroys the extremities – fingers, toes, … other things. I assume this vampire is either a minion who's made his master very unhappy, or a spy from another clan. Either way, if we can bring him round, we might get some useful information."

By the time Spike was half way through the information, Buffy was looking green. The prospect of bringing the vampire round to the sort of pain he must be experiencing was horrific.

"Is there some sort of pain relief we can give him? I mean, what works?"

"Nothing much, love," he replied, sorrowfully. "Not a circulatory system as such, and human drugs rely on the bloodstream to take the drug to the brain. Only thing I know works at all is booze. Not sure we could get him to drink, though. Maybe your friends the witches can help – it might take them to wake him anyway."

"Will he recover?" Buffy asked.

"Physically? Probably. But to look at him, he's been sunbathing for a long time. His mind's probably gone as well as his fingers, toes and …" Spike was looking green now. He took a deep breath to recover, "But, kindest thing we can do when we've finished with him would probably be to stake him."

Taking turns to sit with the vampire in the basement, Spike and Buffy ate and both had a shower. They felt soiled by their contact with the poor unfortunate. Even Buffy felt sorry for him. She was the Slayer. Even though she'd avoided taking the role seriously, there had always been vampires wanting to test their mettle against her – especially in the early days. She had dusted them, and felt no remorse for it, but this was something else altogether.

When Willow and Tara got up, Buffy filled them in on what they needed. Although Willow had agreed not to use magic, she was happy to help Tara to find something they could use. They agreed to check their books after classes and hopefully to do something that evening.

Having seen Dawn off to school, Buffy went back to the basement. Spike still looked ill. Recognising that this was his usual sleep time, she told him to go up to her bed and sleep. "I'll stay with our guest," she told him. "The curtains're closed, so you should be ok. I'll sleep later."

As he climbed the stairs, Spike didn't think he'd sleep. So he was surprised when he looked at the clock a while later to find it was after noon. He got up, pulled on his jeans and T-shirt and went downstairs. Buffy was sitting as he had left her, trying to read a book, but she didn't seem to have read much. She looked up in surprise as he entered. He apologised for startling her.

"No," she told him. "It's just, I was thinking. Whoever's responsible for this, I really want to get him."

"So do I, love," he replied. He looked at her resolute face and fell in love with her all over again. "Off you go to bed, pet," he told her. "Have a sleep. I think it'll get busy later. What's Dawn doing after school?"

"She's coming straight here," Buffy replied, dragging her thought back to the mundane, every day things that her other self had to cope with. She stood up and wearily made her way upstairs. She wondered to herself where this conscience she had, had come from. For years she had managed to overlook the damage demons did in Sunnydale – she'd even managed to ignore the evil humans did in the name of making Sunnydale demon-free. Now, she was fired up with a loathing for what- or whoever had done this – by all accounts, did this regularly – simply to maintain himself in power. She shuddered. Undressing, she tried not to think about the tortured vampire in the basement. She pulled off her trousers and top and slipped under the quilt. She inhaled deeply. She could smell Spike on the covers and that comforted her. She wished he could come up and hold her while she slept, but they couldn't leave the basement unattended.

Later that afternoon, Dawn came back from school. Spike kept up his vigil in the basement, while Buffy tried to sort out some food for later. They had agreed to try to keep Dawn from seeing what was down there. They both knew they'd be happier if they'd never seen it. When Willow and Tara returned they had good news about the spell. They had something, which would allow access to his memory, but they were hopeful, it wouldn't bring him round so he wouldn't have any physical sensation. Willow had other news. She'd checked on last night's death toll. From the police computer, she'd found that over a hundred women had died last night. Almost all showed signs of 'sexual assault'. This tallied with Buffy's estimate of the numbers she'd seen returning to the warehouse.

The two witches went downstairs with Buffy. She had tried to warn them about the state of the creature, but both were profoundly shocked. He appeared to have no skin left anywhere and the flesh they could see was charred and livid. There was little to support Spike's use of the male pronoun when he spoke of him. Willow and Tara were both extremely pale as they set out the ingredients for the spell. When Spike heard the news of the numbers of deaths, he started pacing.

"If he's going to let them kill on that basis, they can't plan to stay for long," he reasoned. "It won't be long before they run out of food – Sunnydale's not that big a town. The rape business, that sounds like the old-fashioned type of master. I've come across a few, but they normally don't get that powerful. They keep the males and females separate. Almost as if their old human sexual morality came with them when they changed. Never met one of them that applied the rule to themselves, though. Of course, that meant that when they were let out to feed, the males were only interested in female prey – or most of them anyway."

The witches were ready. Willow smiled at Tara to encourage her to begin. There was a look in Willow's eyes, which said she was itching to do the spell herself. She kept twitching in the direction of the ingredients as Tara reached for them. When the incantation was complete, everyone turned reluctant glances to the vampire who still lay unmoving on the blankets. Tara's eyes were closed. After a moment, she opened them and looked at the others. "H..his vocal chords are too damaged to speak. I'll have to do the talking for him. It might take a few moments." She closed her eyes again. Willow was looking worried, but didn't move.

When Tara spoke again, her voice was shaky. "Ask and I will try to find the information in his memory. His recent memory is … horrible. I think he's mad."

"We need to know," Spike said, "how he came to be left outside to dust with the sunrise. Is he one of the clan which has just moved here?"

Tara's voice answered, "The information is buried. He knows he will be punished terribly for betraying his master."

"His master already left him for dead," Spike pointed out. Can't you find out?"

Tara looked puzzled. When she spoke again, she seemed to be speaking for herself. "His normal state of mind seems to be scared."

Tara continued to probe, and a moment later she gasped. Her face twisted in pain, but she mastered it and started to speak. Willow had jumped to her feet at Tara's reaction, but Buffy had stopped her from going to her. Tara spoke again. "He was taken into the clan recently. He had been with Jenna for a long time. But, she was locked up with the women, so he couldn't see her. He broke in to the women's quarters, but was caught and sent to the sunroom." Tara's face showed she was struggling for control.

"Who is this master? What clan is it?" Spike was getting impatient. Although he hadn't said anything, he had a shrewd idea who the master concerned was. If he was right, they were in trouble. "And why is the clan here?"

"D…Dominic – he's the master. Clan moved here. Master has some plan. Doesn't know what. Just that whole clan came here. Long time. New rules when they arrive. No more killing prey. Farming."

At that point, Tara fell out of the chair she had been sitting in. This time, Buffy didn't stop Willow as she rushed to her side. "Tara, baby, are you ok? Speak to me, please."

Tara's eyelids fluttered. Weakly she nodded her head, then whispered, "Didn't feel his pain, felt his fear. So hard to control. Can't do it again."

The others didn't notice Buffy creep upstairs. When she returned, she had a stake in her hand. She calmly walked up to their guest and pushed the stake into his heart. When the dust had all dispersed, she looked at Spike. He had tears in his eyes as he looked at her. "Thanks, love," was all he said.

None of them felt like talking. With Buffy's help, Willow took Tara upstairs. When she went into her own room, Buffy found Spike waiting for her. He was sitting on her bed, with his head down. She sat beside him and he immediately enfolded her in his arms. They sat like that for a while, just taking comfort from the contact. When he broke the silence, Spike said, "Patrolling tonight?"

Buffy shook her head. "No, not tonight. Tonight, we plan how to take out that warehouse. Killing a few of them isn't enough. We've got to take out the whole clan. Quickly." She thought over what they'd learned, and remembered something. "Tara mentioned farming. What did that mean?"

Spike smiled ruefully. "It means he knows he'll run out of food soon in this town if they carry on like last night. It means they'll be taking humans alive and keeping them alive. Probably even breeding from them. The idea is to farm humans for blood, love."

About an hour later, Xander and Anya arrived. Willow had obviously told them what had happened. Buffy was surprised. When she was first called to be the Slayer, it was made clear that the job required a more or less solitary lifestyle. She had rejected the whole thing – had simply decided that the demands were too much. She had then found it incredibly hard to make friends. There was something about her, something she couldn't tell anyone about, that people shied away from. Until Spike came along, she had a life full of acquaintances, but no real friends. Then, when her mother had died, she had been so alone. She already loved him then – in fact, she'd never have survived that period of her life without him. He had kept her sane and had given her a reason to carry on. It had seemed natural that Spike move into her life completely. Her other self had had a very different experience. She had embraced the whole Slayer thing, but she had made friends. She had friends who assumed they were part of whatever was causing her a problem. She was trying to come to terms with sharing her home with Willow and Tara, but Xander and Anya were largely unknown. Yet, here they were, ready and willing to help with whatever plan Buffy thought best. She wasn't used to being part of a team. Yet, she was surprised how relaxed everything was. They sat in her lounge, munching some nibbles and discussing the possibilities.

"If there're a lot of them in one place," Buffy started, "something like the Initiative use would be good – but I don't know how we'd get hold of enough explosives to blow up that warehouse."

"Wait, love," Spike interjected, "Remember what our friend downstairs said. He's going into farming. We need to make sure there're no humans in the building before we do anything drastic."

Buffy looked at him, remembering the earlier events in the basement. She could see the pain in his eyes. "Yeah, I forgot. We need to either move before he starts 'farming' or we need a way to release the prisoners first."

Xander spoke up. He seemed eager to prove he could do something – almost as if he had to prove himself to this new Buffy. "If we can use explosives, I can help. I know you don't remember this, but a while back, there was this spell in Sunnydale. Anyone who hired their Halloween costumes from a certain store, became the thing they were dressed as. Willow became a ghost, you became a crinoline lady, and I became a soldier. We used that to get hold of some major firepower before. I could probably do it again. I can even remember how to use it."

"Ok," Buffy answered. "Don't do anything yet, but if you could, you know, plan something, that'd be good. Let me know if you need my help."

After that, the meeting became more like a friendly gathering. Buffy found herself enjoying the companionship of these strangers. They had accepted her without question, even though they knew she was not their friend. She was uncomfortable with the fact that they hadn't accepted Spike. Looking at him, it was obvious he was wary of spending time with so many humans. She knew how hard it was for him to control his demon, yet he had been so successful since he had started to share her life, that she often forgot what a struggle it was. Yet, in their own reality, she was the only human he spent a lot of time with. And she knew he would never do anything to hurt her. But now, he was sitting in a room, surrounded by what his demon considered food. He looked tense, but he was coping. She just hoped it wasn't costing him too much to do so.

Later that night, Buffy and Spike snuggled together in her bed. After the horrors of earlier, it was enough to be close and to know the other was safe. Neither wanted any more.