A/N: Okay guys, I promise that is the last of my Buffy 'dealing' bits. And yes I know that the first part is way too long. But I wrote it so it's here. Don't blame my beta, she tried to tell me.
This chapter is full (and I mean FULL) of plot points. Get your number two pencils out, there will be a quiz later. I just have to say I am so excited to be reaching the 100 mark. You guys are the best.
Buffy sat quietly in the garden behind the manor, watching the sky bleed into night. Leaning her head all the way back over the bench she was perched on, she watched the windows of the house begin to light in preparation for the oncoming evening. And the demons come out to play. .
She'd been in the garden for the better part of the day. Not doing much, just breathing in and out. Slowly. At first she had been seeking escape from a monumental hangover but around mid-afternoon her retreat had shifted into quiet contemplation. Well maybe not so quiet. If it weren't for the fact that she would have scared the crap out of her hosts, she would have let loose the cleansing scream that even now was lodged in her throat.
It was never an easy thing to finally grasp the big picture and your place in it. Most people never really got to that point in their lives, when they could truly see their purpose or the consequences of their actions, but that was exactly what her fevered mind had pushed into the fore. And now she knew why very few ever got here.
In a word, it sucked.
Buffy shook her head and continued her train of thought. She'd spent most of the day digging into the heart of one Buffy Summers. She wanted to firmly cement the conclusions in her mind before the rest of the world invaded again.
Buffy mentally applied her 'Freud colored' glasses. 'The subject comes from a broken and dysfunctional home, therefore, she's been allowed to behave like a spoiled rotten little brat.' Buffy winced slightly at her own description but found it uncomfortably apt.
'Though the subject seems to have some difficulty admitting it to herself, she seems to put a rather large amount of blame on one Rupert Giles for inadvertently placing her in a position to become a vampire slayer, thereby, systematically destroying her life.' Logically, Buffy knew that was utter crap. She knew she wasn't pushed, she had chosen to become the Slayer. But in retrospect, she could see the many ways that deeply-buried, completely false, resentment had colored their relationship.
There were so many situations she could have handled, maybe not better, but differently. Like Dawn, she could remember feeling , however briefly, that her sister had been shoved into her life without any regard for Buffy's feelings. She just now realized how very close to the surface those feelings still were. As much as she loved her sister the same part that blamed Giles, resented Dawn.
Resentment seemed to be the theme of the day, or life when you boiled it all down, especially when it came to her friends. They'd been so shocked to discover she'd been hiding Spike. That little web of deceit was not a new practice in the Buffyverse. Had her history with Angel taught them nothing?
Which somehow led her back to Spike. All roads lead to Spike. How classically screwed up is that? Spike never did what she told him to. Strike one. He was continuously messing with her head. Strike two. He made her think and feel too much. Strike three. Somehow a soulless vampire managed to cut right through her pious crap and pull out what she really felt. Maybe that was why she resented him the most.
She could give herself some credit and admit that in the bigger scheme of things, she did end up in rather extraordinary situations. A little selfishness should be allowed. But that didn't mean that she should have let, no forced, everyone in her life to bear the brunt of her shortcomings.
And oh, she had.
Not that she was surrounded by saints or anything but still…
Oh Christ, what's the point?
This round of mental gymnastics wasn't accomplishing anything. Not really. Willow, Xander…her mother, they were gone. Permanently. No amount of self recrimination was going to change that. Yes, she got that now. You only have to beat me over the head ten or twenty times. The Slayer's job was to protect the world from the beasties and nasties that continuously got thrown about. Not save the savees from… themselves. It didn't matter if she'd been a little bit faster, a little bit smarter or whatever, that wasn't her fight. It never had been. They all, Willow and Xander especially, fought it the way they lived, with their entire heart and soul. Maybe it was about time she learned a lesson from that. That little epiphany had come in somewhere between 'I'm the biggest bitch in the world' and 'how could they not let me help them'.
She had to move past it. Not that the pain would ever really fade but she couldn't get through her days holding on to it anymore. They were gone and…there were so many left. Giles. Dawn. She'd left them behind in England. Hadn't even bothered to call and let them know she was all right. They deserved more. She owed them more than the empty shell she'd been giving. She knew they were continuing on with the lives they'd carved out in the face of death and destruction. Dawn was probably knee-deep in school right now, trying to fit in. Buffy really needed, no wanted, to be there for her sister. And Giles. He was always there. Even when he wasn't. She knew, at any given moment, that a simple phone call would bring him to her side. It was about time she appreciated that rather than simply expected it.
Which brought her right back to Spike.
Spike.
He'd gone out and gotten what she had craved for herself. To forget. To start over. How could she honestly hate him for something she would have done in a heartbeat? The anger didn't surprise her though- she'd never been fair when it came to him. How's that for the understatement of the century.
Last night had been the proverbial nail in the coffin. If Tasha hadn't come out when she did , they would have been right back where they had started. Nowhere.
It was time to finally do something for Spike. She would let him have what he wanted. A world without her in it.
"Buffy?"
Buffy jumped slightly as Sam's voice intruded on her little retrospective phase but she still greeted him with a smile.
Sam slid onto the bench beside her. She ducked her head to hide the grin at the careful way he made sure there was a respectable distance between them. Staring at his hands for a moment, she found herself mesmerized by how soft they looked. She wasn't used to that, all the men she'd come in contact with had hard callused hands. Even Giles, who spent most of the time in books, had hands that sported the rougher hue of a lifetime of work. Turning her palms over, she stared at the row of calluses that ringed her palm. Working hands. Forever working.
"Sam, I've been thinking." At his raised eyebrow, she continued. "I really need to take more vacations. You know, recharge the Slayer battery."
She didn't know what she expected him to say. He looked slightly startled and then a wide grin split his face, making him appear like a small boy with his first toy. It was charming, it was heart warming and it was infinitely understanding. "I think that's a great idea."
Buffy grinned and sat back in her seat, drinking in the scents of jasmine and sunset. "Yeah, me too."
They sat in silence for awhile, just watching the night awaken around them.
"So, " she said finally. Turning her upper body to face him and slinging her arm over the length of bench between them. "Let's find Mr. Burke, so I can kick some ass and make with the umbrella drinks."
In a bedroom upstairs, Spike was lying splayed out on the bed on his stomach with Rain perched comfortably straddling his back. There was a light click of scissors in the otherwise quiet room as she snipped the stitches away from his back.
"If you keep this up, I'm gonna start charging."
Spike pillowed his hands on his forearms, grinning. "And deny yourself the pleasure of getting your hands on my tight little body? Not to worried , pet."
"You know, I'd comment on your incredibly inflated ego right now but it's become painfully obvious that you need to fill that huge head with something, cause there sure as hell aren't any brains rattling around in there," Rain muttered, her tongue firmly in cheek.
Spike's grin was replaced with a less than complimentary sneer. "Say, pet, did anyone ever tell you what a great comedian you'd make?"
Rain's answer was slow as she attempted to maneuver the scissors around a particularly difficult stitch. "No..."
"Ever wonder why?"
She glared at his over-bleached head and casually flicked her scissor-holding hand, which resulted in the stitch being viciously ripped out. Spike came off the bed in a perfect arc. "Bloody hell, woman. Where'd you get your bedside manner?"
"Same place you got your over-abundance of charm, I'd wager."
Spike grunted and eased his body back down on the bed, muttering something about Florence Nightingale.
Rain's smirk was triumphant as she resumed her duty. "Shut up and watch the lights"
"What lights?"
With another slight flick of her wrist, an arc of glowing blue, purple and green pinpoints of light began to dance in front of Spike's face. There were hundreds of them dipping and spinning to a quiet concerto in the air. Spike's grin was renewed as he watched the perfectly choreographed lights dance for him. "When'd you learn how to do that?"
Rain's shrug was lost to the back of Spike's head. Glancing up, she viewed her handy work and smiled. It was good to be a witch. "Ian rented Fantasia last month."
"Hmmp. Poof."
"Yes. Absolutely. Don't know how I put with such an obviously gay and juvenile man. By the way the Blockbuster called again. You still haven't returned Snow White."
"What? It has a bloody marvelous villain." Spike winced. Guilt and a slight dash of humiliation tingeing his words, making him all the more determined to prove a point. "They just don't make evil like that anymore. Nowadays they have to make them all human and flawed. " Spike spit the word 'human' out like he had swallowed something rancid. "She was a true credit to evildoers everywhere. Beauty, brains, power and not a sweet bone in her entire body. Knew what she wanted and went for it, not like the wishy-washy sort you see these days."
"Yeah… didn't she fall off a cliff in the end?"
Spike lay his back on his arms. "Didn't say she was perfect."
"Speaking of powerful, less than perfect, women…," Rain said, causally, " …What the hell is going on with Buffy?"
Spike winced. "Say, luv, you gonna keep dancing around the subject matter here or are you just gonna say what you're really thinking?"
He looked back over his shoulder to be confronted with a look from Rain that clearly said 'quit screwing around'. To bad she can't patent that look. Mothers everywhere would kill for a tenth of that one. Letting out a long suffering sigh, Spike turned his head away. He didn't think he could look into the honesty of Rain's eyes and get this next bit out.
"I really have no bleedin clue. She does…something to my head."
Her actions shielded from Spike's eternally prying eyed, Rain let her gaze wander over the name etched into Spike's skin. The urge to tell him almost choked her, but she knew it wasn't the time. With that in mind she bit her tongue and continued destiching him.
Oblivious to her conflict, Spike waved his hand in the air as he verbally confronted the things roaming around in his brain. "On the one hand, I want to snap her neck, which is normal, right, the way it should be."
Spike swore he could hear Rain rolling her eyes behind his back, but shrugged it off. She had encouraged this little heart-to-heart. "But then these soddin pictures go whirling around in my brain and I want to…I don't bloody know? Hug her… or something."
Rain jumped on that statement like an addict to a badly needed fix. "Pictures? What kind of pictures?"
"Well, not pictures exactly, more like flashes of things…images. People… places I've never been. " Spike slammed his fist ineffectually into the soft cushion of the mattress. "Stuff I have no soddin right to know!"
"Like what?"
"Like… Like, that she always puts her left earring on first."
Spike had buried his face in the bed and Rain found herself straining to hear him. Sliding of his back, she dropped to his side. Her fingers raising, to gently stroke his hair in a motherly gesture. She felt her heart swell up and break in her chest at the fear and confusion lacing his words.
Spike rolled onto his side and his eyes bored into hers silently begging her to fix things. "Why would I know that, Rain? I don't want to know that. I don't want to know a bleedin thing about her. It's not…It's not natural."
Rain continued to run her hand over his hair as her usual display of bravado dropped and she let the heart of the woman underneath come forth. Few saw this part of her. Spike had earned it a long time ago. "What do you want to do about it?"
"Do!," Spike shot up on the bed until he was crouching. His hands lay curled in fists on his thighs and every cell in his body seemed to scream out for a release from the tension that held him a constant state of turmoil. "I don't want to do a bloody thing! I just want her to leave, so that everything can get back to normal. I don't want her in here," he said, tapping his head. Rain didn't comment, she couldn't over the lump in her throat, when his eyes went vague and his hand dropped of its own volition to his chest. Coming to rest above his heart. "I don't want her, Rain… I don't."
Rain calmly handed Spike his shirt and nodded. Neither commented on the slight tremble that passed from her hand to his. "Then we better help her, Spike. So she can leave."
Tasha slipped quietly away from the door. A smile curved her lips as she made her way towards the stairs.
Buffy stared blankly at the rows of neatly stacked containers lining the fridge. Sam was already stowed away in his office, booting up his computer for research. She was in charge of snack detail.
Yogurt and blood. Don't these people eat?…Okay that wasn't the smartest thought to ever go through my head. Wonder where a good pizza place-
"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to touch other peoples things?"
Buffy froze as Tasha's sarcastic tones drove up her spine like an ice pick. Straightening slowly, she closed the fridge and turned to face the vampire who was leaning casually against the counter, glaring at her.
"Seeing as you're not people I'll forgo that little pleasantry just this once."
Tasha pushed away from the counter and crossed to Buffy. "Well good, then we're agreed that polite conversation isn't on the agenda… I want you out of my house."
Buffy tilted her head back and was more than a little pissed that she had to crane her neck to return the glare. "This isn't just your house."
A smile void of all humor crawled over Tasha's lips. "Oh, let me guess, you're referring to Rain, our personal little paragon of virtue and light?"
Buffy wanted to back up but she could not, would not, give Tasha the satisfaction. There was something in the woman's eyes that hadn't been there in any of their previous dealings. Something that looked a lot like victory. Clearing her throat, Buffy stood straighter. "Would you like something to wash down that enormous foot you've just jammed down your throat?" At the slight confusion in Tasha's eyes, Buffy pushed the only angle she had. "Let me simple this up for you, I've talked to Rain, and she has no problem, what-so-ever, with me being here."
Buffy couldn't control the shiver that crept up her back as Tasha's entire countenance changed and all Buffy could think was The bitch is back.
"I'm sure she doesn't, but I don't think you've quite grasped that Rain is not the 'be all' and 'end all' decision maker around here. Or maybe you're just seriously in need of a lesson on how the real world works." Tasha took a small step back and Buffy felt her gaze rake her body. It was in no way pleasant and neither were Tasha's next words. "Little girl."
Buffy let her Slayer mask drop. She absolutely refused to let this woman get to her. "Please enlighten me here, Tasha. I'm all choked up with curiosity, how exactly does a…vampire, view the inner workings of the quote, unquote 'real world'."
Tasha stared at her for long moments as if deciding what the most painful way to maim the Slayer might be. She succeeded without raising a finger. "Let's break this down into terms even you can understand. Rain loves Ian. Rain loves Spike. Ian and Spike both love me. You, however, are nothing to no one. Am I making this perfectly clear for you? Or do you need me to use smaller words?"
"Tasha!"
Buffy almost sagged in relief as Rain made her presence known in the doorway. Only the refusal to show Tasha any weakness kept her on her feet. For Tasha's part, she simply crossed her arms over her chest and flicked a disinterested eye over Rain. "I was just telling her the way it is."
Rain walked slowly into the room and sank down at the table. She looked tired and defeated. Ignoring Tasha for the moment, Buffy sat down next and put her hand on her arm. "Are you okay?"
Rain did nothing but stare at her for a moment and Buffy was startled by the plea for forgiveness etched onto Rain's face. Before she could process what the look was for, Rain spoke and drove all compassion from her mind. "Look, Buffy, Tasha is right."
Buffy stood slowly up from the table, hoping and praying that the betrayal she felt wasn't being broadcast on her face. "What?"
Rain scrambled to catch her arm but Buffy was too fast and Rain had to settle for talking quickly. "No, I don't mean she was right about you. I just meant that your presence is causing a disturbance in the house and you know as well as I do that distractions can get us killed. I think it would be better, for everyone, if you stayed in a hotel until this mission of yours is completed."
Buffy turned and walked swiftly towards the door, talking as she went. "It's fine, Rain. Tell you what, I'll just go finish off the research I was doing with Sam and I won't bother you anymore."
"Buffy, I'm sorry."
Buffy froze at the door, staring blankly into the hall. No force on earth could make her turn around and see the gloating look she was sure was plastered all over Tasha's face. "Don't worry Rain. I understand." Buffy blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears clouding her vision. "Perfectly."
Both women watched as the Slayer faded from view. The triumph in Tasha's voice was making Rain physically ill. "Well it's nice to know you're still on our side."
Rain had already pushed herself up and was heading for the door. "Oh fuck off, Tasha."
Just beyond the slight gauze of time and space that separates this world from the next, two beings stood watching the events unfold.
"We have to do something."
"Don't go getting your panties in a bunch, this ain't over yet."
"But she's going to leave and he's being…stubborn. Can't I just, you know, toss in a few charms or…"
"You may be new but the rules apply to you, too. We can't interfere unless there is a viable opportunity to do so."
"Oh really, and that vampire just accidentally rematerialized and staked Spike in the exact spot his tattoo would be revealed."
"That was viable."
"Mmmhmm."
"Oh shush. Have a little faith."
"Ugg, how many times do I have to tell you not to say the 'f' word."
"You know you have issues right."
Buffy glanced longingly around Sam's office for anything that resembled food. Her search turned up piles of books, mounds of crumpled paper and more than enough mechanical looking doodads to keep an army surplus store in business for years. I'd kill for a donut right about now.
Trying to hide the repeated rumblings of her empty stomach, she stood and stretched her back. A map of the world pinned against the length of an entire wall caught her attention. Aching for a distraction, she wandered over to it and began tracing a finger along the raised and ridged surface. So that's where Cleveland is…hmmm…And survey says? I've been stuck in here waaayyy too long.
A quick glance at the desk clock showed they'd been at it for almost six hours. It would be daylight soon and so far they had found nada. Looking for Mr. Burke had turned into the proverbial needle in the haystack crusade. Sam had called everyone he had ever known and no one had heard anything. The police reports came up dismally empty and currently they were searching the internet trying to trace his recent flight patterns.
The steady click of the mouse and Sam's quiet voice as he placed yet another call filled her ears. Sliding down to the floor, Buffy rested her forehead on her raised knees. She had to prepare, on the off shot that they actually found him. Get in the zone, so to speak.
Hell with 'the zone' I need to find a hotel room. She could handle this. She would be mature and conduct herself with dignity. There was obviously something going on with Rain and she would just have to accept that maybe- Oh fuck this. I'm pissed off. I accept that! Rain had come on all 'we fight the same fight. I just want to help'. Then boom! 'Get out, you're messing up my schedule'. Okay there was probably more to it than that and given some time, Buffy was sure she'd get to that part but right now…not so much.
Banging her back against the wall, Buffy struggled to pace her mind through the correct words of the spell she would need when they found Mr. Burke. But no matter how hard she concentrated, the correct sequence was always just beyond her reach. Buffy wished fervently for Willow. The rather-detailed plan Giles had come up with involved Buffy finding a witch and having her, or him for the PC crowd, recite the spell. Due to recent events, however, asking Rain for help was akin to Chinese water torture at this point. I'll just have to wing it. Can't be that hard. Just some words put together for the desired effect. She'd watched it done millions of times. Yeah easy as pie….I hope.
"I've got him."
Buffy was jolted out of her reverie by Sam's quiet voice. Springing to her feet, she snatched the paper out of his outstretched hand. The address and room number of a hotel was written in his neat tight script. Practically bouncing in place, Buffy threw her arms around him and grinned when he seized up like little boy confronted with Great-Aunt Lucy kisses. Buffy stepped back, clutching the paper. She could be on a flight back to London by tomorrow. The bottom of her world nearly dropped out at the thought of never seeing Spike again, but she pushed the sudden ache away determinedly. For once, she was going to do the right thing.
Shaking her head, she glanced at the computer screen where Mr. Burkes face was emblazoned. A slight shiver worked up her spine as his cold green eyes bore into hers. Pinning the smile back on her face, she smiled at Sam. "Did one of your sources finally come through?"
"Umm. No exactly."
The sheepish tone in his voice set alarms off in Buffy's head. "Then what? How did you find him?" Visions off horrible deaths and unspeakable crimes danced before her eyes. What horrendous thing had Mr. Burke done to finally show himself?
Sam ducked his head shyly and Buffy had to lean in to hear him. "I called the hotels. He was registered."
"Oh…Well that works too."
Rain walked slowly down the stairs as the front door slammed shut behind Buffy. Staring at it, she leaned backwards against the chest she could always count on to be there. She let out a deep sigh- one part contentment and one part regret- as Ian slid his hands around her waist and rested his chin on her head. His chest rumbled slightly as he spoke.
"Okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…" Rain let the sentence trail of as she had no idea what exactly she wanted to say. She didn't want it to end like this but she refused to let Spike be hurt, either.
She felt rather than saw Ian nod towards the closed door. "Was that the Slayer?"
"Yes."
"Where was she going?"
"I'm not sure. She's leaving or rather, she's gone. I don't think she's coming back. It's for the best…I think."
"Did she find who she was looking for?"
Rain shrugged slightly. "I don't know."
"Well, she's been holed up with Toad all night. You want to ask?"
Rain turned in Ian's arms and stared up into his understanding eyes. A light mist of tears covered her eyes as she silently prayed that she had done the right thing. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she pressed her face against his steady solidness and mumbled against his chest. "Yes I do. I really do."
Rain had learned over the years to turn a blind eye to the disaster area that Sam called home. Ian was slightly less tolerant. So while she shoved through the mess and over to the computer without preamble, Ian picked his way much more delicately through the piles of papers. That was the reason why Ian almost didn't catch her when her knees gave way.
"Baby? Rain? What's wrong? Talk to me."
Rain could say nothing around her seized throat. All she could accomplish was clutching at his shirt and pointing wildly at the computer screen. Ian dragged his gaze from her wide, fear filled eyes to the picture Sam had displayed. His chest spasmed painfully and he clutched Rain closer. It was with considerable less than his usual calm demeanor that he spoke to Sam. More to the point, he barked out his question like a drill sergeant on the first day off boot camp. "Where did you get that picture, Toad."
Sam's gaze shot from Rain to Ian. Fear filled his voice at his friends reactions. "That's Mr. Burke. The one Buffy, I mean the Slayer, went…went after. What's…what's the matter?"
A low sound that could have been a moan but was in actuality the only scream Rain could emit at that point worked its way out of her chest. Ian carried Rain out of the room as she gave herself up to oblivion, locked away in memories of a time long past.
London 1921
"This situation is an atrocity. An…an abomination to nature! You do realize what you are doing is wrong, don't you?"
"Cainen, please stop. You're going to hurt yourself getting all worked up this way."
Cainen Weatherly III glared at his sister. Taking a breath, he ventured on his self-imposed path. "Maybe you don't. Is that it, Rayann? Have they warped your perspective with their debaucheries."
Her slight titter of laughter further enraged him, as did her cavalier attitude and words. "Cainen, you aren't making sense. It's been three years and all they have done is help. Why can't you see that? Why do you continuously have to disparage everything I'm trying to do here. Don't you realize how many lives we've saved…"
"Rayann! You're my sister and I love you. But they have blinded you. You've…You've forgotten what they are. Well, I for one refuse to forget. Not for one second will I forget that monstrous beings like that took our dear parents from us. Frankly it sickens me that you so easily dismiss their memory. When mother and father died I vowed to protect you. I did not, however, vow to watch you debase yourself nightly with filth like-"
Rayann surged to her feet, for the first time in her life moved to stand up to her brother. "But you have protected me! You taught me how to fight."
"And don't think a day has gone by that I haven't regretted doing so. Look where it got you. Enslaved to demons."
"But I am not enslaved-"
Cainen swiped his hand in front of her face. This pointless discussion was only prolonging the inevitable. "You are, you just can't see it. But I can and I have found the way to stop that."
Rayann sank back against the couch, weariness showing in every limb. Sometimes Cainen got these ideas in his head and it was no good to argue until he'd run his course. "What are you talking about?"
Cainen surged up onto the balls of his feet and pushed his fingers through his suspenders proudly. "I've found the cure."
Raising a tired hand to her eyes, Rayann didn't bother to look at him as she stated the same old argument. "It's not a disease, Cainen."
"Yes it is. A disease I mean to eradicate."
She shook her head at the idea that once again she would be forced to endure this discussion. "Eradicate? You can't kill them Cainen. It will kill me. You know that."
Cainen dropped to his knees before her and gently pried her fingers away from her eyes. "I love you, Rayann, my little rain." She smiled slightly at his special nickname for her. With a mental nod she accepted that she would hear him out. Again. After all, without him she had no one. Taking his hand, she pressed her mouth to his palm and asked him to continue.
"I only want what's best for you. What mother and father would have wanted. I know you don't want to hear this, but you know it's true, your recent behavior would have sickened them. I don't want you to worry about that though because I can fix this. You'll be their sweet little girl again. You just have to trust me. I promise this won't hurt for long."
Rayann patted his cheek gently and then stood up from the couch. Squeezing by him she walked sedately towards the door. As she reached it, she took one deep breath and ran for her life.
Rayann ran through her childhood home, her brothers voice echoing through the halls just short steps behind her. "Come back here, Rayann. It won't hurt at all. You can be pure again. It's what mother and father would want."
Her footsteps echoed loudly on the wood floors, but still too quiet to cover terror-filled gasps that filled her lungs. Reaching the front door, she fumbled with the lock and threw it open even as her hair was seized in vicious grip.
"Cainen," she sobbed, "Please don't do this."
She felt his tears splash on her face as his large hands began squeezing her throat.
"Sshhh, my little rain. Ssshh, it will be over soon."
Rayann began to scream as the edges of her world were became tinged with black.
"Rayann!"
She turned terrified eyes to the figure struggling against the barrier at the door. Ian, her mind screamed, but her body refused to cough up the word. She could hear her brother sneering in her ear but for once that night the words were for someone else.
"She won't be the devil's plaything anymore. I'll make her perfect again."
Ignoring him, Ian sought her eyes and held them with his own. "Rayann!," His voice trembled slightly as he pleaded with her, a sound she never thought she would hear from his lips. "Please, Rayann. Invite me in."
Her gaze flit wildly from Ian to her brother. There was murder in Ian's eyes and she knew that Cainen would not leave the room alive if she let him in. On the other side of the coin, Cainen continued to taunt Ian, proclaiming Rayann a good girl who would never let dirt like him into their home even as he continued to choke the life out of her. Closing her eyes, Rayann made her decision. With her last gasp of breath, she sputtered out the invite that would save her and kill her brother. And the world went black.
Rayann woke slowly and found herself wrapped in powerful arms. Blinking cautiously, she raised a hand to her raw throat and lifted her gaze to stare up into deep brown eyes. The changes three years had wrought were painfully clear to anyone who looked; they were all there in Ian's eyes. At first, his level stare showed her nothing but the purest of hate and the deepest of disgust. After enough time had passed his constant glares had shifted into an almost steady contempt, with brief flashes that showed the beginnings of a rather begrudging respect. It hadn't been long after that the warmth of friendship lit his eyes and she found herself wanting to bask in it's glow. Which all lead up to now. This was the look that kept her awake at night, tormented her heart and ultimately betrayed her brother, the sweet raging fire of love.
Rayann raised her hands and cupped Ian's strong jaw. "Is he…"
Ian closed his eyes briefly and Rayann felt like the sun had left her soul. " Not yet," he quietly admitted, "but soon."
Rain sat up slowly, her gaze traveling the room until it fell on the prone figure of her brother. He was lying on the floor, just scant feet away with his head tilted at an unnatural angle. Blood seeped slowly from his neck onto her mother's antique carpet. Pushing off of Ian's lap, she fell on her brother in two short steps. With shaking fingers she brushed the hair from his face and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. Even after everything, she couldn't hate him. It just wasn't in her. They had stood together against the world for almost ten years and without him she would never would have survived her parent's deaths.
"I can…"
She raised her head and stared at the man she was just now beginning to admit she loved.
"No," she breathed quietly. Running her fingers over Cainen's face. "That isn't what he would want."
"He wouldn't feel that way after."
Rayann rose slowly to her feet. Harsh determination coloring her movements. "But I would."
Ian rose with her and took her hand. "What do you want to do now?
Rayann looked at the body of her brother and the home she spent her life in. "Take me away from here. Far away. Another country. I never want to see England again."
Ian scooped her still-weak figure into his arms and carried her out the door and into the night.
Spike shifted his weight on the couch as Ian came charging into the living room. Raising a brow slightly, he tried to crane his head around Ian's large frame which was currently blocking the TV.
"Hey, mate. You're blocking my program."
Ian's gaze flitted from the TV to Spike. Anyone could tell he was having difficulty comprehending the basics of language, judging by the look on his face. Spike sat up further, dislodging Tasha who had been lying with her head in his lap.
"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Ian pulled a shaky hand through his hair. The grimace that graced his face was frightening. "I have," he said simply.
Before Spike could respond, Tasha was on her feet, rushing towards her brother. "Ian, what's wrong? What happened?"
Ian breathed out one word. "Cainen."
Spike watched with a certain degree of interest as Tasha's already-pale face went a few shades whiter. The seriousness of the situation had him rising to his feet.
"But he's dead," she sputtered.
"Not so much, apparently."
Tasha was having difficulty grasping the situation. "But that's not possible. It's been, what, eighty years. Is he human?"
Ian's voice grew suddenly cold. Deadly. The sound of it made Spike take a step back. "I don't know. I don't care. All I know is he will never touch Rain again."
Tasha clutched at his arm pleadingly. "Ian you have to calm down. You can't just run off half-cocked. We need a plan."
Ignoring her, Ian picked up a battle axe out of the weapons chest beside the TV. "I have a plan."
Spike moved swiftly over to the chest, selecting his own weapon. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on but he was in complete agreement with Ian. No one touched Rain. Laying a sword over his shoulder, he nodded to Ian. "Right then, what are we waiting for?"
Tasha made a move towards the chest and Ian grabbed her arm. "You're staying here."
"But-"
Ian shook his head, his eyes were cold and uncompromising. "I need you to stay with Rain."
Tasha's jaw dropped slightly. "She's not going?"
"She's asleep and by the time she wakes up, this will all be over. I need you here when she does…In case I'm not." With that comment, Ian headed for the door. Spike quickly fell into step behind him.
"And do what?," Tasha called.
"Distract her." Was the clipped reply.
Before she could respond the door was slamming shut behind them.
TBC…