Burning Vortex
This story was a response to a challenge but I liked it so much it works well anyway. Takes place sometime season 5. Towards the end.
The car raced recklessly down the street. The abnormal quiet of the night was disrupted by the gunning engine. Spike wasn't used to stick. It had been so long. He preferred automatic now. The stolen car pulled up in front of Buffy's house.
He could smell the flames from way off but now they were smoldering. The smoke circled around him. He vaulted out the window and raced inside. He called out to Buffy. There was no response. He knew she was in there somewhere. Panic mixed with fear as he ducked through debris. The house would fall down any minute. It had become a shell, the fire having consumed so much.
Spike almost tripped over the rocking chair in the living room as he made his way inside. He could barely see through the smoke. It stung his eyes and caused tears. As he dodged the flames he thought of how he had learned of the fire. Willow, the ever growing witch had talked to him telepathically. Something she saw while doing a spell. She had called out to him and he had risen to the occasion.
At last. He heard something in the basement. He slammed into the door and tumbled down the stairs as more ceiling fell right behind him. "Buffy!" He moaned as he was pummeled by the wooden stairs. The contrast of the damp basement to the inferno upstairs was startling. "You stupid bint. Why are you hiding down here?" He wasn't mad. He was just afraid for her.
Buffy didn't respond, but Dawn looked up at him. "Your bloody house is burning down Slayer. Come on."
"She can't. It's to dangerous. She's afraid. There was a fire once when we were on vacation. We were in a barn and it burned down. We were almost trapped. Dad got hurt." Dawn explained. Spike looked around. The place was like a bomb shelter. No escape except the way he came. He was afraid of that.
"Here little bit." He pulled off his coat and put it around Dawn. He looked back at Buffy. She was frozen. "When I say to, I want you to run upstairs and through the back door. The coat will protect you. I'll bring Buffy right after." Dawn nodded. Some dirt and ash fell to the floor. Spike grimaced and hoisted Buffy up. She moaned and he put her down.
He hadn't noticed the burns all over. He was to concerned with getting her out of there. She wouldn't heal right away. She was hurt badly. He picked her up again more gently. Her only chance was him now. Upstairs the house gave a shriek.
"Spike." Dawn squeaked.
"Go! I'm coming." Spike commanded. Dawn ran upstairs with Spike right behind her. The flames burned him. They hurt. He could hear sirens as he burst outside. Vampires as it were, are highly flammable. He crumbled, Buffy slipped to the ground, unconscious. He rolled trying to extinguish the flames. A window burst. He instinctively covered them.
"Can I get help here?" Spike yelled to the firemen. They looked and began shouting. Through the dense grey smoke that wanted to choke his dead lungs he could see the Scooby Gang.
People helped him up. They took him to an ambulance. "I'm fine. What about the girls?" He snapped trying to pull away.
"You're burned."
"I'm conscious. Let me go." Not able to legally hold him they let go. He stumbled and waved to Willow. He made his way over.
"Thanks Spike." Willow said simply. "I don't know what I could have done. The cards foretold and I got scared."
"We should go to the hospital." Spike interrupted. Xander and Giles looked at him tightlipped. He had a feeling they were angry that Willow had sought him out rather than them. Deep down they knew that they couldn't have done what Spike did and it made them angry.
"Maybe you should be fixed up. The people at the hospital will want to help you."
They went to the hospital and waited. It was worse than they thought. Buffy had been put in emergency surgery. Spike paced around the waiting room. Nobody dared come near him. He wanted to know how Buffy was, and he also wanted to know how the fire started. It was the missing piece of the puzzle.
They were there hours. Everyone drifted off except Spike. He couldn't close his eyes. Every time he did he was tortured by the picture of Buffy in his mind. The small child who was paralyzed by fire. Who throughout her life was smart and strong and courageous, was reduced to a cowering baby. He couldn't take it. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted her to be Buffy.
At last he was at least able to see Dawn. She wasn't nearly as bad. He went into her room and sat down in a chair. Dawn looked at him tiredly. Bandages covered a good amount of skin. "Thanks Spike."
"Glad you're ok."
"How's Buffy? They won't tell me anything."
"Well frankly, I'm not sure." He wasn't going to lie to her. He never did. She didn't deserve it.
"Dawn, how did the fire start?" She turned away. He understood. So it was her fault. He remembered that Buffy had gone off on her for starting a fire in her wastebasket. They must have fought.
"I was doing this spell. I had some pink candles. I knocked them over."
"What was the spell for?"
"Buffy. To love you. Funny isn't it?" She turned to him. Tears in her eyes. "It's all my fault."
"It was an accident." He said slowly. He was stunned. Someone other than himself wanted him and Buffy to be together. It was sad though. The kid thought that the only way would be through magic. He admitted he thought it might be too. Like the time they almost got married. She would never love him.
"I'm tired. I'm going to sleep." Dawn turned over. Spike patted the pink quilts that covered her and silently left the room.
As he walked back he noticed a pile of blood bags. But something in him propelled him to move onward to the vending machine. A good Mountain Dew. He downed it. It tasted like sugary crap. He sat back down next to Willow. She shifted and snuggled up to him in her sleep. Tara was next to her twitching. He felt bad. That poor girl, trapped in her mind. Like his old flame Drusilla.
"She's out of surgery. She won't be awake for a few more hours. The doctor said it went well but don't look for miracles. They had to graph a lot of skin." Spike nodded as the information sunk it. Buffy would be horrified. She always prided herself on her appearance. He wondered just how bad it was. They could do stuff. No. He wouldn't be that shallow. He would help her.
It was all he could do. It was all he had to do. Nothing else. His whole world revolved around Buffy. He slept a little. It was hard to tell the time in hospitals because there were no windows on the inside. Spike judged by the people. They were a clock to him. He stretched. All his burns felt better. He wished he had a mirror to see what he looked like. His ugly mug. He slipped from Willow and went to the counter.
"Can I see Buffy Summers yet?" He asked the woman on duty. She was new. The woman picked up the phone.
"Are you family?"
"Yes."
"Room 216. Burn ward."
"Thanks." Spike left the waiting area with a last glance back and braced himself for the burn ward. It was so quiet. His boots echoed off the tiled floors. It hurt his ears. If he had a heart, its beating would have deafened him. He entered Buffy's room. A teddy bear sat propped up in a chair.
Spike closed his eyes then opened them. Buffy looked tired and soar. Every bit of exposed skin was covered in bandages and probably more underneath. Even her face. She looked like a mummy. "Hey. How are you doing?" Spike asked softly. He took a seat near her. She shook her head. So she couldn't speak. "Ok. Blink for me." He looked around. "Dawn's alright. I talked to her. She blames herself. But don't worry. I assured her it wasn't her fault." Buffy grunted. "I'm sorry Buffy." He moved closer.
"I always know what you're thinking. Don't I?" She blinked. "As much as you love her and want to protect her, you are furious. If she just hadn't been playing with candles. And if you weren't afraid...It happened. You can't help that. Anymore than I can help being chipped. I saved you. You aren't dead. Be happy." He kept leaning closer. Desperation was creeping up on him. He felt so upset. He hated seeing her like that.
New feelings came up in him he thought he could never feel. He wanted to take care of her. Not just kiss her and make love to her. He wanted to hold her and help her. "Buffy. Please. You are so strong. I'm gonna help you. You'll get better. I love you. It doesn't matter what you look like. I know you don't believe it. How could you? But I swear it. I'll always protect you. I'll always save you from life's fires. You don't have to be afraid." They were both weeping. The passion he exuded was smothering.
A few minutes later he felt another presence. Willow entered. "Hi Buffy." She said with a wave. "We got some of your stuff." She held up a bag. "Well stuff of yours from my house. And Spike's." He looked confused. Then he flushed. He stood up.
"I'll leave you alone. I'll be back." He left the room and wandered outside. He walked down the street to one of the 40 odd churches right to a confessional. "I confess to being evil. I'm righting my ways. Forgive me father." Spike said to a confused priest. Then he walked back out to the hospital. The sun was just about up. He wondered if it had been a few hours or a full day since the fire. Time seemed so hazy to him. Everything was an illusion.
He went into the gift shop and bought a book and some flowers. Wasn't much. But it was a start. There was a new song inside him. He went back upstairs hoping she wasn't asleep yet. He knocked on the door. Xander looked up at him. He nodded. Spike put the flowers on a table and grinned at Xander. "Can a mate have some space?"
"Bye Buffy." Xander said with a sigh. He frowned at Spike. Buffy smiled faintly under the gauze around her mouth.
"Bought a book. Hope you like it. One of my favorites." Spike opened to the first page of Great Expectations and began reading. He had been identifying with Pip for awhile now and since he had known Dickens the book was a comfort of sorts to him. Buffy settled down under the covers as Spike began. She was soon asleep. He closed the book and laid it next to her then softly kissed her bandaged forehead.
"I'm still by your side." He left the room. No billowy coat devil. No shadowy presence. Who knew where the darn thing was? Just a man.
This story was a response to a challenge but I liked it so much it works well anyway. Takes place sometime season 5. Towards the end.
The car raced recklessly down the street. The abnormal quiet of the night was disrupted by the gunning engine. Spike wasn't used to stick. It had been so long. He preferred automatic now. The stolen car pulled up in front of Buffy's house.
He could smell the flames from way off but now they were smoldering. The smoke circled around him. He vaulted out the window and raced inside. He called out to Buffy. There was no response. He knew she was in there somewhere. Panic mixed with fear as he ducked through debris. The house would fall down any minute. It had become a shell, the fire having consumed so much.
Spike almost tripped over the rocking chair in the living room as he made his way inside. He could barely see through the smoke. It stung his eyes and caused tears. As he dodged the flames he thought of how he had learned of the fire. Willow, the ever growing witch had talked to him telepathically. Something she saw while doing a spell. She had called out to him and he had risen to the occasion.
At last. He heard something in the basement. He slammed into the door and tumbled down the stairs as more ceiling fell right behind him. "Buffy!" He moaned as he was pummeled by the wooden stairs. The contrast of the damp basement to the inferno upstairs was startling. "You stupid bint. Why are you hiding down here?" He wasn't mad. He was just afraid for her.
Buffy didn't respond, but Dawn looked up at him. "Your bloody house is burning down Slayer. Come on."
"She can't. It's to dangerous. She's afraid. There was a fire once when we were on vacation. We were in a barn and it burned down. We were almost trapped. Dad got hurt." Dawn explained. Spike looked around. The place was like a bomb shelter. No escape except the way he came. He was afraid of that.
"Here little bit." He pulled off his coat and put it around Dawn. He looked back at Buffy. She was frozen. "When I say to, I want you to run upstairs and through the back door. The coat will protect you. I'll bring Buffy right after." Dawn nodded. Some dirt and ash fell to the floor. Spike grimaced and hoisted Buffy up. She moaned and he put her down.
He hadn't noticed the burns all over. He was to concerned with getting her out of there. She wouldn't heal right away. She was hurt badly. He picked her up again more gently. Her only chance was him now. Upstairs the house gave a shriek.
"Spike." Dawn squeaked.
"Go! I'm coming." Spike commanded. Dawn ran upstairs with Spike right behind her. The flames burned him. They hurt. He could hear sirens as he burst outside. Vampires as it were, are highly flammable. He crumbled, Buffy slipped to the ground, unconscious. He rolled trying to extinguish the flames. A window burst. He instinctively covered them.
"Can I get help here?" Spike yelled to the firemen. They looked and began shouting. Through the dense grey smoke that wanted to choke his dead lungs he could see the Scooby Gang.
People helped him up. They took him to an ambulance. "I'm fine. What about the girls?" He snapped trying to pull away.
"You're burned."
"I'm conscious. Let me go." Not able to legally hold him they let go. He stumbled and waved to Willow. He made his way over.
"Thanks Spike." Willow said simply. "I don't know what I could have done. The cards foretold and I got scared."
"We should go to the hospital." Spike interrupted. Xander and Giles looked at him tightlipped. He had a feeling they were angry that Willow had sought him out rather than them. Deep down they knew that they couldn't have done what Spike did and it made them angry.
"Maybe you should be fixed up. The people at the hospital will want to help you."
They went to the hospital and waited. It was worse than they thought. Buffy had been put in emergency surgery. Spike paced around the waiting room. Nobody dared come near him. He wanted to know how Buffy was, and he also wanted to know how the fire started. It was the missing piece of the puzzle.
They were there hours. Everyone drifted off except Spike. He couldn't close his eyes. Every time he did he was tortured by the picture of Buffy in his mind. The small child who was paralyzed by fire. Who throughout her life was smart and strong and courageous, was reduced to a cowering baby. He couldn't take it. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted her to be Buffy.
At last he was at least able to see Dawn. She wasn't nearly as bad. He went into her room and sat down in a chair. Dawn looked at him tiredly. Bandages covered a good amount of skin. "Thanks Spike."
"Glad you're ok."
"How's Buffy? They won't tell me anything."
"Well frankly, I'm not sure." He wasn't going to lie to her. He never did. She didn't deserve it.
"Dawn, how did the fire start?" She turned away. He understood. So it was her fault. He remembered that Buffy had gone off on her for starting a fire in her wastebasket. They must have fought.
"I was doing this spell. I had some pink candles. I knocked them over."
"What was the spell for?"
"Buffy. To love you. Funny isn't it?" She turned to him. Tears in her eyes. "It's all my fault."
"It was an accident." He said slowly. He was stunned. Someone other than himself wanted him and Buffy to be together. It was sad though. The kid thought that the only way would be through magic. He admitted he thought it might be too. Like the time they almost got married. She would never love him.
"I'm tired. I'm going to sleep." Dawn turned over. Spike patted the pink quilts that covered her and silently left the room.
As he walked back he noticed a pile of blood bags. But something in him propelled him to move onward to the vending machine. A good Mountain Dew. He downed it. It tasted like sugary crap. He sat back down next to Willow. She shifted and snuggled up to him in her sleep. Tara was next to her twitching. He felt bad. That poor girl, trapped in her mind. Like his old flame Drusilla.
"She's out of surgery. She won't be awake for a few more hours. The doctor said it went well but don't look for miracles. They had to graph a lot of skin." Spike nodded as the information sunk it. Buffy would be horrified. She always prided herself on her appearance. He wondered just how bad it was. They could do stuff. No. He wouldn't be that shallow. He would help her.
It was all he could do. It was all he had to do. Nothing else. His whole world revolved around Buffy. He slept a little. It was hard to tell the time in hospitals because there were no windows on the inside. Spike judged by the people. They were a clock to him. He stretched. All his burns felt better. He wished he had a mirror to see what he looked like. His ugly mug. He slipped from Willow and went to the counter.
"Can I see Buffy Summers yet?" He asked the woman on duty. She was new. The woman picked up the phone.
"Are you family?"
"Yes."
"Room 216. Burn ward."
"Thanks." Spike left the waiting area with a last glance back and braced himself for the burn ward. It was so quiet. His boots echoed off the tiled floors. It hurt his ears. If he had a heart, its beating would have deafened him. He entered Buffy's room. A teddy bear sat propped up in a chair.
Spike closed his eyes then opened them. Buffy looked tired and soar. Every bit of exposed skin was covered in bandages and probably more underneath. Even her face. She looked like a mummy. "Hey. How are you doing?" Spike asked softly. He took a seat near her. She shook her head. So she couldn't speak. "Ok. Blink for me." He looked around. "Dawn's alright. I talked to her. She blames herself. But don't worry. I assured her it wasn't her fault." Buffy grunted. "I'm sorry Buffy." He moved closer.
"I always know what you're thinking. Don't I?" She blinked. "As much as you love her and want to protect her, you are furious. If she just hadn't been playing with candles. And if you weren't afraid...It happened. You can't help that. Anymore than I can help being chipped. I saved you. You aren't dead. Be happy." He kept leaning closer. Desperation was creeping up on him. He felt so upset. He hated seeing her like that.
New feelings came up in him he thought he could never feel. He wanted to take care of her. Not just kiss her and make love to her. He wanted to hold her and help her. "Buffy. Please. You are so strong. I'm gonna help you. You'll get better. I love you. It doesn't matter what you look like. I know you don't believe it. How could you? But I swear it. I'll always protect you. I'll always save you from life's fires. You don't have to be afraid." They were both weeping. The passion he exuded was smothering.
A few minutes later he felt another presence. Willow entered. "Hi Buffy." She said with a wave. "We got some of your stuff." She held up a bag. "Well stuff of yours from my house. And Spike's." He looked confused. Then he flushed. He stood up.
"I'll leave you alone. I'll be back." He left the room and wandered outside. He walked down the street to one of the 40 odd churches right to a confessional. "I confess to being evil. I'm righting my ways. Forgive me father." Spike said to a confused priest. Then he walked back out to the hospital. The sun was just about up. He wondered if it had been a few hours or a full day since the fire. Time seemed so hazy to him. Everything was an illusion.
He went into the gift shop and bought a book and some flowers. Wasn't much. But it was a start. There was a new song inside him. He went back upstairs hoping she wasn't asleep yet. He knocked on the door. Xander looked up at him. He nodded. Spike put the flowers on a table and grinned at Xander. "Can a mate have some space?"
"Bye Buffy." Xander said with a sigh. He frowned at Spike. Buffy smiled faintly under the gauze around her mouth.
"Bought a book. Hope you like it. One of my favorites." Spike opened to the first page of Great Expectations and began reading. He had been identifying with Pip for awhile now and since he had known Dickens the book was a comfort of sorts to him. Buffy settled down under the covers as Spike began. She was soon asleep. He closed the book and laid it next to her then softly kissed her bandaged forehead.
"I'm still by your side." He left the room. No billowy coat devil. No shadowy presence. Who knew where the darn thing was? Just a man.