Chapter 21 - Decision

Her footsteps were leaden, and her mind racing. How could it have been her fault? She hadn't done anything to him, so how could she have made his injury worse? Was it something she'd done as she treated it? She couldn't work out what, and everything she'd used on it had come from his own pack. It didn't make sense.

A vision of his face swam before her eyes as she walked. The details changed constantly, flitting between the last expression she had seen, pain and fever wracked, telling her to go, and the one she had seen for a moment this morning. The one that looked so loving and vulnerable.

She felt she was being torn, ripped between her duty as the Slayer and her own instinct, and the internal battle raged as she walked, argument after argument vying for her attention. She no longer listened to the words in her head, just concentrated on the face. It seemed simpler that way.

*-*-*

The past few days had been a flurry of activity for Emily. Immediately the meeting had broken up, Prince David had cornered her, and made it clear that they had to move quickly if they were to have any chance of success in putting her plan into operation. They had agreed on immediate actions, which primarily consisted of ensuring that details of the proposal were spread as widely as possible. The two of them were best placed for that anyway, as a well-loved Prince and the Slayer carried a good deal of influence with public opinion.

Once the information spread, it snowballed. The people were sick of living under the cloud of threatened invasion, and rallied to the cause. Camps were set up around the city, and people flocked to them ready to be trained to destroy vampires. They brought food and livestock with them, and, overnight, the food shortages ceased. Of course, timing was still critical. While the people weren't working on their farms, the food supply was going to diminish, and there would be shortages later. On the other hand, if they weren't successful, it probably wouldn't matter, as the conquering vampires would be sure to feed their stock.

The methods were crude, and casualties were guaranteed to be high, but the people banded together as they had never done before, each determined to prevent the ignominy of becoming glorified cattle, or die in the attempt.

*-*-*

Without a clearer plan, Buffy had continued to travel towards the capital. She was surprised to find the first farm she reached to be devoid of people. This close to the city, that wasn't what she expected. She approached the farmhouse, and knocked on the door to make sure it was empty. To her surprise, the door was opened by an elderly woman, bent and twisted as she walked. She didn't seem afraid of the visitor, if anything she seemed glad to have company. In a rush, Buffy explained as much of her predicament as she dared to. She told her she had a friend, who had been poisoned. She explained that there was an antidote, and that her friend knew it, but he was too ill to walk further.

The woman listened to the story, nodding her head sagely. When Buffy had finished, she closed the door behind her, and crooked her finger at Buffy to follow her to a barn next to the house. Once inside, Buffy stood and looked in awe.

"The family's gone to be trained to fight vampires. They left me, 'cos I'm not a lot of use in a fight, but I know a bit about herb lore and healing. Whatever your friend needs for his antidote, I'm sure you'll find it here."

The walls of the barn were shelved, and the shelves were lined with more herbs and medicinal supplies than Buffy had ever seen. In addition, there were a number of makeshift beds around the room.

"We set it up as a hospital of sorts, just in case it's needed," she explained. Then, she walked out of the barn, leaving a bemused Buffy to follow.

They walked towards a field close to the house, where an elderly donkey was tethered. "They took the horses with them, of course, but they left old Eli. He's biddable, and he'll pull a cart if you lead him," she explained. She didn't even stop there, but immediately untied the donkey, and led him towards another outhouse. There, she started to lift a harness from the wall, but Buffy put a hand on her shoulder, indicating that she would do it. Between the woman's instructions, and Buffy's youth, they hitched the donkey to the cart.

"Bring your friend here, and I'll help as I can," the woman promised.

"Thanks, er, I don't even know your name," Buffy replied, bemused by the woman's generosity.

"My name's Margot. Not many around these parts wouldn't know it. Still, you can thank me if your friend survives. Go and get him before it's too late."

Buffy shook Margot's hand firmly, amused to notice a slight grimace on the older woman's hand. Buffy's strength was obviously returning, albeit far too slowly for her liking.

She felt better than before now that she had made her decision, but she dreaded the possibility that she might be too late. Was it possible that poison could cause a vampire to dust? She had no idea. Spike's comments seemed to indicate that it was. Slayer training was just a tad preoccupied with more immediate methods of achieving that particular result.

It took an hour to retrace her steps, and as time went on, she could feel the panic rising in her. What if she hadn't followed her path exactly? What if she missed him? Sense of direction had never been her strong point, and as she knew she must be getting close, she concentrated her Slayer strength to recognise where he was.

At last, she felt it, the familiar tingle which had become a part of her existence over the past few days. She concentrated harder, desperate to pinpoint the exact direction. She increased her speed, sighing with relief when she spotted the familiar figure on the ground. His eyes were closed, and his face drawn with pain.

"Spike," she shouted. He didn't seem to hear, so she tried again as she ran towards him. "Spike, I came back for you."

"Bloody stupid dreams, just go away and let a bloke die in peace, won't you?"

The words were said without opening his eyes, the sound soft.

Without saying anything further, Buffy started on the job of getting Spike onto the cart. She tethered the donkey to a tree close to where Spike lay, and considered how to achieve her aim. If only she had been at full strength, it would have been the work of moments, but, as it was, it was a struggle. She managed to pull the sheet complete with recumbent vampire over to the cart. Kneeling beside him, she tried to pull him into a sitting position.

"Spike, listen, I need you to stand up. I'll help, but I need you to help too."

"Dreams again," he murmured. "Stupid dreams. She's gone, and she's not coming back, and it's hardly bloody surprising. Was going to kill her, I was."

"Spike, we'll talk about this later, but, for now, stand up."

To her surprise, he didn't say anything else, but did start to struggle to his feet. It still took all Buffy's strength to pull him up, but at last he was upright, one arm draped around her shoulders as he leaned heavily on her. She turned him towards the cart, and managed to drag him a couple of steps. Carefully, she lowered his top half onto the platform, then started to try to push his legs up too.

At last, it was done. He lay where she had left him, apparently too weak to move further. She threw his pack and the blankets up beside him, covering him as well as she could, and returned to the donkey.

It took longer to return to the farm. She kept going back to check on him, dismayed that he hadn't rallied at all. It was all very well taking him back to the farm, but, it wouldn't help at all if she didn't know how to make up the antidote to the poison.

When she at last reached the farm, she headed straight for the barn which housed the herbs. She shook Spike, desperate to try to make herself understood.

"Spike, Spike, I've got you somewhere where I can make up the antidote. But, you've got to seem human. I'll turn my back if you want, but you'll have to activate the charm. It's important, Spike."

He gave no reaction at first, then, without warning, his arm moved, taking his right hand to a point at the back of his neck under the hairline. Immediately, his hand moved again, and she was relieved to hear a shuddering breath. She touched his cheek, and it was still too hot.

She left the cart there, and went to the farmhouse to alert Margot to her return. Margot followed her back, and Buffy unhitched the donkey leaving Margot to return him to the field, while Buffy was left with the job of getting Spike into a bed. Using the same method as she had before, she managed it, although it seemed easier this time since he wasn't lying on the ground to start with. He flopped onto the bed, and was lying on his stomach, with his legs overhanging. Buffy straightened him as well as she could, then tried to turn him so she could talk to him.

She took some deep breaths before trying to waken him.

"Spike," she said, shaking his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open, and for a second, he seemed more lucid.

"Buffy? Is it another dream?"

"No, not a dream. You've got to help me. You said you knew what poison was used. How do we mix an antidote? Tell me what you need."

He laughed at that. It was a weak shadow of the laugh she'd heard before, but it was a laugh.

"Too late, Pet. You wouldn't find what's needed. Too difficult. Unless …"

"Unless what? Spike, tell me, unless what?"

"Concoction's going to take hours to cook. I've not got that long. You'll need some mandrake root, and, you won't find that in a hurry either."

Buffy stood up, and quickly scanned the shelves. She found some, and returned to Spike. "Look, you stupid vampire. I've got mandrake root. What else do I need?"

Shaking his head at the futility, he nonetheless recited the ingredients needed. One by one, she found the various herbs and powders. When the list was complete, she shook him again. "Ok, Spike, we've got what we need. Now tell me what to do with them."

"Need one more ingredient. Not going to get that."

He seemed to find that funny, judging by the giggles that resulted. Buffy couldn't decide whether to hit him or hug him.

She tried asking about the last ingredient, but he didn't seem to hear. At last, she shouted, at the top of her voice.

"What's the last ingredient!"

That stopped the giggles instantly, and his face contorted. "Your blood," he whispered.

"My … blood?"

"Told you, pet. Not going to get the last ingredient, so there's no point."

Buffy stood up and faced away from him. Her blood. Slayer blood? Or just her blood? The idea of supplying her blood to a vampire just reminded her of what the invaders wanted. They wanted humans as a docile food supply, and she wasn't about to provide that.

Another voice inserted itself into her head. "But this is Spike. If you don't, there won't be a Spike." And she knew she had no choice.

She knelt down again, and shook him until he opened his eyes. "You can have the blood, just tell me what to do."

"Knew it was a bloody dream," he muttered. "Still, nice dream, so might as well go along with it."

It took him ten minutes to describe what she needed to do, and when she was sure she understood, she looked up to find Margot standing in the entrance to the barn.

"I know what I need, and how to make it. It needs to cook, can I …?"

Buffy asked.

"Of course," Margot replied, leading the way into the farmhouse.

As Buffy laid out the various jars and packages she needed on the kitchen table, she knew Margot was confused. Her brow knitted as she considered what sort of antidote was being prepared.

"What sort of poison was it?" she asked.

"I don't know, but Spike's pretty clear that this is what you need to put it together."

"Ok," her hostess replied, "but, I've never seen an antidote like this."

Buffy's hands were trembling as she measured out the quantities into a pan Margot supplied. When everything else was ready, she added water, then paused. Fortunately, Margot took that moment to leave the kitchen for some reason, so Buffy looked for a sharp knife. She took a deep breath, then made a cut in her wrist. She allowed the prescribed quantity, or as near as she could measure it, to run into the pan, and turned on the heat. She quickly bandaged her wrist with a piece of cloth hacked out of the hem of her shirt. Margot returned then, and if she noticed the new bandage on Buffy's wrist, she didn't mention it.

"It's got to simmer slowly, Spike said for about two hours, until the colour changes to red," she explained.

"And you'd like to stay with your friend," Margot added.

Buffy nodded. Margot wordlessly handed her a bag. One glance inside showed it contained clean bandages. She then handed Buffy a basin of hot water. Buffy nodded her thanks, and headed back to the barn.

He was unconscious again, and were it not for the ragged breathing, he would have seemed nothing more than a corpse. Or at least, until she touched him. He was so hot, she was surprised he hadn't just combusted. Something told her that wasn't a good thing, so she shook him again.

"It's on, the antidote's cooking, it'll be ready soon. You've just got to hang on."

"Can't," he muttered. "Too long."

"Stupid vampire," she shouted through tears that were forming in her eyes. "You think I'm going to just let you die after all this? You'd better think again."

"Good dream," he muttered. "Almost worth dying for."

"It's not a dream," she yelled. "Now, is there anything else I can do? Anything that'll help?"

"'Course there is," he replied, smiling. "'Spose there's no harm asking. Dream, after all. Slayer blood's got healing properties. Might keep me going a bit longer …"

"Again with the blood," Buffy murmured. She held up her wrist, noticing that it was still oozing despite her attempt to stench the bleeding. She unwrapped it, and pushed it towards his mouth.

Almost of its own volition, Spike's tongue snaked out of his mouth to lick what was there. One taste, and his face changed, morphing into the demon face. His fangs sank into her flesh and he started to drink.

She didn't have any idea of how much he needed, but she knew that if he took too much, they would probably both die. After a couple of minutes, she gently pulled away. He fought at first, then seemed to realise what was happening, and his fangs retracted. She quickly rebound her wrist, and looked at him. He was looking at her, his expression a mirror of what she'd seen that morning. He was looking at her with rapt adoration on his face.

"Know it's not real," he muttered, "but, thanks. It's a good way to die."

With that, his eyes closed, but, to her relief, he didn't turn to dust. Noting that his breathing was steadier than it had been, she turned to pick up the bandages. As she moved away, she noted that he hadn't been exaggerating the aphrodisiac effects of Slayer's blood. Still, while he was unconscious, it couldn't do a lot of harm, could it? She turned him over, and examined his leg. It looked even worse than it had. She washed it carefully before gently wrapping it in the clean bandages.

Buffy had noticed time dragging many times in her life. She needed to be busy, and had never been a patient person, but the time which followed seemed the longest time in her life. She spent the time sitting with Spike, then running to check the potion, disappointed that the required colour change hadn't happened. Margot was around most of the time, but didn't interfere with the potion.

It was dark, and she was on her way to check the potion again. It had already taken longer than Spike had indicated, and she was starting to despair. What if Spike remembered wrong? What if she had done something wrong? It was all she could do not to give way to the panic that threatened her as she made her way back to the farmhouse. She blinked at the mixture through her tears, taking a second before she realised it was ready. The colour had been a natural, light brown colour, but now, it had changed. It was bright red, like fresh blood.

With shaking hands, Buffy managed to pour the potion into a cup, and walked carefully back to the barn. She placed the cup close to the bed while she tried to waken him. It took several attempts, but he eventually opened his eyes.

"Is this hell?" he asked.

"No, Spike, I've got the potion. You've just got to drink it. Sit up, and I'll hold the cup to your lips."

Spike grinned stupidly as she held his head to her breast. "Still dreaming," he giggled. The laugh was infectious, and she stifled the urge to join in. She reached for the cup, and held it to his lips. To her surprise, he morphed to demon face as soon as the scent reached his nostrils, and he drank down the liquid in seconds.

She laid his head on her lap, and stroked his cheek. "It'll be ok, Spike. You're going to be ok," she whispered over and over again.