To all of you that emailed me with your good thoughts and support, I thank you. Here is the next chapter. J
-Terri
******
He healed. Physically at least. It could not be said that the other, unseen, wounds were healing. Rather they festered inside of him, eating away at his very sanity. As he lay there in Buffy's basement, bones knitting and flesh mending from yet another vicious beating, his mind ran circles around itself trying to formulate a plan. He had to stop Glory and to do that he had to kill Ben. Giles wasn't going to help him. That meant the Scoobies wouldn't help him if he went to them. He couldn't do it and be sure he'd succeed on the first try before the chip knocked him unconscious. He would only have one chance to kill the intern and if he failed Glory would know that her secret was out. He needed allies; allies that wanted Glory dead as much as he did and were willing to kill innocents in order to accomplish that goal.
The answer came to him in the form of a sick epiphany. He was absently fingering a wound where Glory had sliced him with a knife and his thoughts turned to Mediaeval torture methods, which led him to thinking of the Dark Ages and knights on horseback. Then he remembered the modern day Knights of Byzantium, dressed in all their rusted glory, sworn to destroy the Key at all costs in order to sever its link to The Beast. The Knights had no qualms about killing an innocent girl. They were prepared to sacrifice Dawn, and anyone who got in their way, in order to complete their mission.
The plan seemed perfect. Once he was healed enough to go out, he would seek out the Knights and offer them Ben. Why kill a tool when you could get the hand that wielded it? Spike remembered that the general they had captured told them that the Knights had never been able to determine the identity of Glory's human host. He could give them Glory's biggest weakness in trade for Dawn and the Scoobies' safety. The Knights would kill Ben and Glory would die with him. The Hell Bitch would be gone, Dawn would be safe and Buffy would never have to jump off the tower.
The answer was so ridiculously simple he was shocked he hadn't thought of it before, and a stream of hysterical giggles bubbled out from his lips, catching the attention of his caretaker of the moment, Tara.
"Spike?" the witch asked, leaning over him as he tried to suppress the sounds. "Spike are you all right?"
He looked at her, his face still battered, but cracked into a grin. In the previous timeline she'd gotten brain-sucked and was now a gibbering idiot, but this time, she'd heeded his warnings and had not gone to the fair where Glory had found her the last time.
"You're the only one who ever listened to me," he commented.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Nothin' matters anymore, 'cept keepin' you lot safe."
Tara ducked her head shyly and let her hair hide her face, but he reached over and grasped her wrist gently to command her attention.
"Listen to me. No matter what happens, I will never betray Buffy and the Scoobies. I would die for her and Dawn, and I nearly bloody did."
"I… I know."
"You remember that, Glinda. No matter how it looks. I will never betray you."
She fixed him with a steady stare. "Spike, what are you going to do?"
"I dunno yet, but I have some ideas. The Hell Bitch said a few things while she was gettin' creative with my body parts," he hedged.
"Like what?" she pressed, her face intensely interested.
"Can't say just yet. Don't want to get anyone's hopes up. Gotta do some diggin' first. When I know for sure, you lot'll be the first to know."
She took his hand and squeezed gently. "Spike, please don't do anything rash. I know that you are very worried and scared for us, but the warnings you gave me about not getting caught alone, they count for you too."
He gave her a tender smile. "Don't want to have to come haring to my rescue again, eh Glinda?"
She snorted at his attempt at humor. "More like tired of washing the blood out of your clothes."
"Me I just burn 'em and steal new ones."
"Oh now you tell me," she chided jokingly.
He chuckled and smiled at her, turning his head away and closing his eyes as he released her wrist.
"Tired?" she asked.
He swallowed and nodded.
"I'll let you rest then," she said, adjusting his blankets.
"Wake me when Passions comes on."
"I will."
He fell asleep to visions of knights on horseback with flashing swords and shining armor.
*******
The following day, Spike woke with the uncanny knowledge that he was running out of time. Even though he wasn't yet completely healed and still had a severe limp, he set about executing his plan to enlist the knights' help in disposing of Glory, but there were a few things he needed to take care of first just in case things went sour.
Going to the used car lot he and Buffy had raided before, he stole the camper and hid it in the alley behind the Magic Box. He knew that the Scoobies would need it if Glory came after them. He passed over the Porsche again, knowing it was too small for everyone, and that he also couldn't be sure he would be around to drive it. He knew what he was doing was terribly dangerous and that there was a distinct possibility that he would not survive it. With that in mind, he left a letter for Giles explaining what he planned to do and informing him of the dangers and the whereabouts of the camper.
Mission completed, he went in search of the Knights of Byzantium, knowing he was walking straight into the lion's den, but feeling that he had no choice. He found their encampment without too much trouble. Really, how inconspicuous could a legion of armored knights and war horses be? It wasn't like they could hide out in an abandoned warehouse and lie low until they were called to battle. In the end, he found them in the woods, a full encampment complete with tents and campfires.
Gathering his courage and hoping he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his unlife, he walked straight into their midst.
"Oi! Who's in charge around here?" he announced loudly, commanding their attention.
He was immediately surrounded by at least a dozen armored knights with swords. He put up his hands in surrender.
"I come in peace," he said. "I have information that will prove useful to you in your… eh… holy quest."
"What do you know about our quest?" one of the knights demanded, shaking his sword at him.
"I know a helluva lot more than you think I do, and if you wanna take down the Hell Bitch, you'll put your little pointy things away and let me speak to your leader."
With that, he feigned disinterest, lowered his arms and lit a cigarette. The knights around him fidgeted and murmured, but none tried to attack him.
'Plan might just work…'
"Demon! Hell spawn! Beast of Satan!" came a loud voice.
'Then again, maybe not.'
Spike raised his head to see an elderly man in robes, most likely a priest or cleric, coming through the ranks of knights. He cleared the soldiers and came at him, crucifix waving. He snarled, demon coming forth to the shock of the knights, and shied away from the holy object.
"Get thee behind me, evil spawn!" the cleric cried.
"Oi! Put that thing away will ya? I told you I come in peace."
"Demon! Why should we believe your lies?"
"'Cause I've got information about The Beast," he insisted, still shying from the crucifix.
"You speak with a forked tongue, devil child. Nothing you have to say would be of any use to us."
He was getting sick of the man waving the cross at him, pushing him closer to the ranks of sword wielding knights, and he was losing patience. Besides, the man smelled like moldy books and tongue oil. He rounded and faced the priest, head high and yellow eyes blazing.
"Look, I don't want that bitch opening the portals any more than you do! I'm here to help, you wanker," he snarled, lunging forward and thrilling at the sudden fear in the old man's eyes.
The priest shoved the crucifix directly in his face but did not touch him with it. He held his ground and steeled himself not to flinch.
"What's in gonna be then?" he challenged.
The two stared at each other, a battle of wills as each refused to give quarter, although Spike was none too happy to have a cross dangling quite so close to his nose. Then a new figure came through the circle of knights. He was more highly decorated than the others, and the tattoo on his forehead was more detailed.
"We already know the monks made the Key human, demon," the newcomer said.
Spike broke eye contact with the priest in order to face the new man. The priest thankfully lowered his cross and allowed the man to come close. Spike shook off his demon and looked at the man with his human face.
"Well, yeah. They did."
"We know it is the Slayer's sister. Our brother who was defiled by The Beast told us this," the man, a general, added.
'So that's how they found out. The crazy knight from the mental ward.'
"Yeah. But I can do you one better than that. I know who The Beast's mortal host is," he replied smugly.
The general pulled his sword and pointed the tip at Spike's nose. "I know decapitation will kill your kind, demon."
"We don't like sharpened sticks much either. Your point is?"
"If you have come to tell us lies, we will kill you."
He blinked and looked bored. "Well, yeah. Figured that. I'm a vampire, mate, not an imbecile."
The general stared at him for a moment, then said, "Tell us what you know."
He went to take a drag from his cigarette and saw that it had burned down to the filter. Sighing, and casting the priest an irritated glance, he lit another and took a hit.
"I want to make a deal first," he said, blowing the smoke in the priest's direction.
"We do not make deals with the devil," the cleric sneered.
Spike shrugged and looked expectantly at the general.
"What are your demands?" the general finally said, to the shock of those around him.
Spike gave him a satisfied smirk, flicking the cigarette ashes on the grass by the general's boots.
"'S real simple, really. I give you Glorificus' human host and you leave the Slayer and her little sis alone."
His words surprised everyone. Even the general looked stunned.
"That is your condition?"
He nodded and crushed the cigarette under the heel of his boot. "It is."
"You want the Key for yourself," one of the knights spat.
He gave the knight a withering glare. "No. Without Glory, the Key is useless," he said, looking back at the general. "The Key is the Link, the Link must be severed. Such is the Will of God. Have I got it right? Kill the man, you kill the God. Kill the God, the Key becomes a normal teenage girl whose only concerns are boys, makeup and not gettin' eatin' by nasties like me."
Spike gave the general a level stare, one eyebrow cocked.
"You are correct, demon. If The Beast is destroyed, the Key's power is useless. Only the one who made it can wield its power," the general confirmed.
"There you have it then. Have we got a deal?"
"Why would you want us to spare the girl?" the general demanded.
"The Slayer and me, we got a deal. I help her kill the nasties in this town in return for her not killin' me. Works out rather nicely for both if us. I don't get killed, she gets another pair of hands in the slayin' and I get to have all sorts of fun metin' delicious violence on prey that's a lot more difficult to kill than you measly mortals. It's a win-win situation," he explained calmly.
"Now, enter one Hell Bitch with visions of world destruction and a really bad fashion sense. Complicate that with the fact that said Hell Bitch is after the Slayer's little sister. Oh, did I mention that I'm sworn to protect the little sister? It makes for a bit of tension, it does, and interrupts our regular slayin' schedule, and that messes with my killin' fun."
"You have a soul," the priest said suddenly, a hint of awe in his voice.
Spike stopped his soliloquy and gave the cleric an angry glare.
"Well, so you found me out. Nancy boy vampire went and got himself a soul. Bravo."
"You are the one that was foretold in the ancient scrolls. The demon who would betray his own kind."
"Hate to disappoint you, padre, but that's my poof of a grandsire. He's the one with the grand destiny. Me, I'm just love's bitch." He returned his attention to the general. "So, back to the matter at hand. I give you Glory's human host and you leave the Slayer and her sis alone. Have we got a deal?"
"How do we know you are telling the truth?" the general asked.
"Well, aside from this pesky soul not wantin' me to lie, I can prove it."
"Tell us what you know. If you speak the truth, we will honor your request."
Spike nodded.
"Glory's got herself a posh pad in an apartment complex not too far from here. I got a chance to look at it when she picked me up and took me over to her place for a spot of torture," he said, pointing to his bruised face. "See, she knows the Key's human too and she decided that the vampire was the weakest link if you know what I mean. Now, during my stay there, in-between the bouts of excruciating pain, I managed to discover a little room in said apartment that was made up as a bedroom for Glory's human half. The human half is a doctor who calls himself Ben. He interns at Sunnydale hospital, when he isn't strutting around in dollies and high heels."
There was a moment of silence before the general spoke again.
"You will take us to this place."
Spike gave him an evil grin.
"With pleasure."