Summary:       Spike finds what he's looking for in Hell, but she isn't the same Slayer that he left behind. 

Disclaimer:    Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own everything.  But I wouldn't mind leasing Spike from them for a couple of weeks :)

Feedback:     As always, appreciated.

Pain

With loving eyes, Spike looked at the naked woman chained to the rock wall.  Thank God she was unconscious.  There were cuts and bruises on every part of her exposed flesh.  He thought about the torture that he had experienced during Glory's interrogation.  It was a walk in the park compared to what the woman before him had endured. 

Spike slowly approached the girl with as much care as a hunter stalking a sleeping lion.  He tentatively reached out his hand to smooth the hair away from her face.  Before he could touch her, the lioness awake.  She raised her head, steadily meeting his stare with her own.  The force of the rage coming from those beautiful eyes made him take a step back.  Spike's undead heart broke. 

Her voice was raspy as she spoke, like she had been left in the desert for months without water.  "Come for your turn?  Trying to break me like the others.  Do your best."  She was naked, chained to a wall, completely vulnerable, but her voice was still filled with defiance.  A fighter, even now.

Spike wanted to weep.  He took a step closer to her.  "I'm not here to hurt you.  I'm here to take you out of here."  Her eyes never changed.  "Slayer, don't you know who I am?"  There was concern and worry in his eyes as he whispered the question.   

Her shallow laughter filled the small, dark room.  "You can do better than that.  At least a hundred demons have played the part of my rescuer before.  Do you think that I would fall for it again?  You ARE as dumb as you look."

"Slayer, it's Spike.  This isn't a trick.  It's really me."  Spike raised his voice over her forced laughter.  "The Powers have sent me to take you out of Hell."  How many had tried to trick her into relaxing her guard?  What other games had they played with her fragile mind?

"The Powers That Be don't give a damn about me."  Her eyes were still locked with his own.  "You can stop with the Spike impersonation.  It won't get you what you want.  Beat me or rape me.  Just get it over with."

The word tore through his mind – rape.  His woman.  They had touched his woman.  Spike's own rage filled his body.  "No one is going to hurt you, ever again.  I promise.  I'm getting you out of here."  Spike walked towards her, more determined than before.  He grabbed the chains suspended over her head.  He used all his vampire strength in an attempt to break the links, but they wouldn't budge.  "Bloody Hell."  Spike turned to the woman still staring at him.  "Slayer, I'm going to need your help.  The chain is too strong.  If we both pull on it, maybe our combined strength can break it.  Are you strong enough to try?"

"I'm telling you.  It's not going to work.  You can't make me believe you."  She moved her body as far away from him as the restraints would allow.  The movement betrayed her words.  She spoke with defiance, but her body revealed the truth.  She was scared of him.  Spike closed his eyes from the pain that knowledge brought.  When had she ever been scared of him?   

"Fine.  Don't believe me.  It doesn't matter.  Right now all I need for you to do is pull when I tell you to.  Are you up for that?"  Spike needed her help if he was going to free her.  Somehow, later he would make her understand.  He watched as a thousand different scenarios passed through her mind.  He knew she was looking for the angle, trying to find a way to make the situation work to her advantage.  She must have found one, because she nodded in agreement.  "Good.  On the count of three.  Ready?  One, Two Three."  Both the Slayer and the vampire pulled forward on the chains.  They exerted as much power as their bodies possessed.  Spike felt the chain give a little under the stress.  "I think it's working.  Just keep pulling."

Finally a link fell to the floor.  The minute her right arm was free, she through the rest of the long chain at Spike's head.  He was barely able to duck before the metal made contact.  Spike jumped backwards out of harms way.  "Slayer, if you are going to knock me unconscious at least wait until we can free your other arm.  Think woman!  What would you be able to do still chained to the wall?"  Her eyes flashed with confusion.  "We're going to try the other side.  Again, on the count of three."  Spike walked around her, grabbing the other restraint.  "One, two three." 

Spike didn't know how long they worked to loosen the other chain.  Its links were much stronger than the first, but finally, it too gave way.  And again, she lashed out at him.  This time Spike was prepared.  He easily sidestepped the flying metal.  But the force of the movement caused her to fall forward, landing face first into the ground.  Spike stood over her as he talked.  "You forgot about the manacles on your ankles." 

Spike tried to bend over to help her, but she pushed herself up and away.  "Why are you helping me?"  The Slayer looked up at him.  She was more wary than she had been before.  No longer the lioness.  Now she reminded Spike of a caged animal.   

Spike sat down on the floor across from her, making sure to keep a good distance between them.  "I've been trying to figure that out for months.  We'll rest for a minute.  Try to get your strength back."  Spike knew she was exhausted.  The fight with her arm chains had taken its toll on him, and she wasn't up to her best anyway.  For the millionth time since entering Hell, Spike wished he had a cigarette.  They sat together in silence.  She kept her eyes glued to him, waiting for an attack.  Spike stretched his body out on the floor, putting his hands behind his head as a pillow. 

Spike wasn't sure how long he had slept when the rattling of her chains woke him.  He opened one eye, turning his head to look at her.  It was an awkward position for her.  She couldn't turn around because of the shackles, so she was unable to grab the chains and pull.  She could only use her legs for strength, and that wasn't doing much.  "Hold on a minute.  Let me help."  Without thinking, Spike put himself in her line of fire.  He crawled over too her, positioning himself at her right leg with his back towards her.  She could have easily knocked his head off, but she didn't.  "Hopefully these chains are as weak as the first.  I'm going to use the wall to brace my feet as a pull.  Give me whatever help you can.  Now pull!"  The short chain broke easily, flying up and hitting Spike in the face.  "Bloody hell.  Why does every experience with you end with me having a broken nose?"  With his back still towards her, he missed the Slayer's small smile.  By the time Spike turned around, it was gone.  Spike crawled over her to get to the other chain.  "One more, luv, and you'll be free."                         

When the last chain was disposed of, the Slayer rapidly moved as far away from Spike as possible.  He sat up on his knees, shrugged out of his duster, and tossed it to her.  She quickly grabbed it.  Her eyes left him for several moments as she put on the offered cover.  Spike noticed her guard was down, if only briefly.  He sat down with his back against the wall.  "When did you change your mind?" 

She was still buttoning the duster as she spoke.  "When you left your back exposed.  No enemy would do that.  It would be certain death.  Only a friend would have that much trust."  She looked back into his eyes.  Now that the rage was gone, they were blank.  "How did you find me?" 

Spike let out an unnecessary breath.  How long had he been holding that in?  "Long story.  Tell you all about it later, pet.  Right now, we need to get out of this hole.  Find a safe place to hide.  Don't need to be found with our knickers down.  We have a long way to go before we're out of Hell."

She slowly rose to her feet.  The sleeves of the duster fell passed her arms; the bottom edge dragged the ground.  In any other place and time she would have looked like a child.  "No one will be coming.  They've tired of toying with me.  You are the first one who's been in here for years."  She walked over to stand in front of Spike.  "But we should leave.  And you need to tell me your plan for escaping this place.  Spike, I want to go home."

Spike stood up next to her.  Yes, it was time to go home.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

"So the Powers That Be sent you to Hell to find me?"  Anne hadn't asked many questions as Spike told her the story of her death, Buffy's resurrection and the plan to collect the missing parts of the Slayer.  Like Elizabeth, Spike had given her a new name, not being able to call the broken woman who traveled with him Buffy.  She took the name the same way she took the information he gave her.  She was accepting and compliant.  Now that her torture was over, she seemed to shut down completely.  She showed no emotions, gave no resistant.  She reminded Spike of Buffy when she had first come back. 

"Guess I was the best they could do on short notice.  Do you know how long you've been down here?"  Spike had guided them back to a cave he was using as a hideout.  Although she believed the story Spike told her, Anne still wouldn't let the vampire get anywhere near her.  They sat on opposite sides of the small makeshift room.    

Anne shrugged her shoulders.  "I have no idea.  Seems like forever.  At first, I hoped you guys would find a way to rescue me.  After a while, I knew that wasn't going to happen.  It's good to know that Willow and the others at least tried to bring me back, even if it didn't work."  Anne's voice softened as she said the name of her best friend.  "I knew Wills wouldn't give up on me."

"Yeah, Red never gave up on you."  Spike wasn't sure what to say.  He hadn't told Anne much about the Scooby group.  Anya and Xander announcing their engagement.  Willow and Tara breaking up over the whole magic thing.  Giles leaving for England.  Right now, none of that seemed to matter.  She needed to cling to whatever illusions she still had left.  Soon, he told himself.  When she's stronger, you'll tell her the whole story.  "Look, Slayer, we need to find a way out of this place.  I concentrated all my efforts on finding you.  I'm not sure where the Gates of Hell are, but we need to find them fast.  Eventually, someone will find out you're not chained to that wall anymore."

Anne looked down at the duster she was wearing.  "Before we do any of that, I need some clothes."  They had left Anne's clothes in the room where Spike had found here.  She said she never wanted to put those rags on again.  Spike had understood.  Besides being the clothes she had died in, they were also the clothes that had been ripped off her body when the torture first began.  The only article they had taken was her boots.  "Spike, give me you're t-shirt."

Spike shrugged his black button-up off, then pulled his t-shirt over his head.  Anne was already unbuttoning his duster.  Her next movement shocked him.  Without a glimpse of the modesty he knew Buffy possessed, Anne stripped of the duster, walked over to him and grabbed the shirt.  She wasn't the least bit bothered by the fact that she was naked.  Again Spike wondered what had happened to this part of the woman he loved.  He watched as she slid the black t-shirt over her slight frame.  Like the duster, the shirt was much too big for her.  She looked down at the length, then back at Spike.  "Do you have a knife?"  Spike pulled the switchblade from his back pocket.  Anne made a small slice in the shirt a couple of inches below her breasts.  Then she pulled the shirt off again.  "It's long enough that this might just work.  I think I can use the bottom of the shirt as a skirt.  What do you think?"

Spike was still transfixed by the naked body standing in front of him.  It took him several minutes to regain his voice.  "It'll do, I think.  At least until we can find you something else."  She had already finished cutting the bottom off the shirt.  She put the top back on, and stepped into the bottom of her makeshift skirt.  It was a little big, so she gathered the extra material, wrapping it into a knot at her waist.  The new skirt hit her mid thigh.  The top left her abdomen exposed. 

"It will do till I get home.  I won't wear anything from this God-forsaken place."  Finally content with her new wardrobe, Anne returned the knife to Spike.  "Now we need to do something about my hair."  Anne sat it front of Spike, her back facing him.  "Cut it.  Cut it short.  I don't want to be bothered with it anymore." 

Spike wanted to argue with her, but he couldn't.  He took a fist full of her hair.  "This might hurt a little."  Anne snorted.  The noise reminded Spike that the woman sitting in front of him understood the definition of pain better than he ever would.  Spike wondered how her experience in Hell would change Buffy once the pieces were reunited.  He wondered if Buffy, his Buffy, would remember the agony this woman had experienced.  They were both silent as Spike finished his task. 

Once he was done, Anne quickly moved away from him again.  She would be close to him when it was necessary, but she wouldn't stay close to him for too long.  The Vampire Slayer and the Master Vampire.  Such an odd combination, Spike thought.  She stood over him once again.  Her hands were splayed across her hips; her head was cocked to one side.  The vision took his unneeded breath away.  Even with the ultra-short, jagged haircut, she looked like Buffy.  And he loved her.  Spike realized she was waiting for him to stand.  Once he was up, he grabbed his duster off the dirt floor.  "I'm not sure where we are, or how far away we are from the Gates of Hell."        

Anne smirked, a look so close to one of his own.  "In other words, we're lost.  Should I expect anything else?"  Anne slowly shook her head.  "Come on, blondy.  If you found me, together we can find the Gate.  Let's do a little recon."  Anne turned away from him, expecting Spike to follow her out of the dark cave.  Always the boss, he thought.  Always in control.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

"Would you stop looking at me like that!"  Anne was agitated.  "And quit laughing.  You promised me you wouldn't laugh!"  She rolled her eyes at the vampire sitting on the floor, clutching his stomach.  And to think, over the last hundred years she had actually started to like him. 

Spike wiped the tears from his eyes, trying to suppress another eruption of laughter.  "Sorry, pet, but what did you expect?  The cheerleader bit was hard enough, but May Queen?  The Chosen One, the Slayer of Vampires, Miss Kick-Ass herself, was May Queen.  Give a fella a break, Anne." 

Anne gave him a patented Slayer look.  "It's not THAT funny, Spike.  I did have a life before all of this started, you know."  Anne stuck her finger in his chest, punctuating her statement.

Spike huffed in her direction.  "If you consider that a life."  When he saw the fire start to rise in her eyes, he backed off.  "I mean, it's hard to picture, that's all." 

Anne took the semi-apology for what it was worth.  She had started swapping stories with Spike as a way to pass the time.  Finding the Gates of Hell was more time consuming than either of them had expected, but they were getting closer.  At least, they hoped they were getting closer.  "Well, it was hard for me to picture you as a poet, but I didn't laugh."

Spike gave her one of his own looks, arching his eyebrow.  "No, you didn't laugh, pet.  As a matter of fact you didn't say anything for days.  I think you were stunned speechless."  Anne laughed at that, making Spike smile. 

For the first time, Spike had developed a real friendship with another being.  Sure, he cared about the Nibblet; he played kitten-poker with the guys at Willie's; he had even been part of Angel's little family for years, but his relationship with Anne was different.  If he had to put a name to it, he would have called her his best friend.

Wandering around Hell was boring, especially when you were hiding-out.  They crept around corners, hid in shadows, listened for any clue as to where they were or where they were headed.  Early on, the pair had decided to relieve the boredom by exchanging battle stories.  Anne told Spike about her fight with the Master; Spike told Anne about escaping the mob in Prague, and on it went.  Neither judged the other.  They just sat and listened.

When the war stories were exhausted, they moved on to personal information.  For the first time, Spike heard the entire Angel tale.  How the Slayer and the souled-vampire had met.  The turmoil their relationship caused within the Scooby clan.  Jennie's part in the Angel/Angelus transformation.  What happened after Spike had left with Dru.  How Willow had managed to retrieve Angel's soul, but not in time to stop Acathala from rising.  Spike never knew that Buffy had killed Angel, not his evil counterpart.  Anne told him about Angel's return and his subsequent leaving.  It gave Spike new insight into the woman he loved.

Spike understood that Anne had given him a gift.  She shared Buffy's most painful memories.  He took the story as a sign of trust between them.  In exchange for that trust, Spike had told Anne about the real William.  The quirky, backwards poet he had been before Dru had turned him.  He told her about his family, his 'friends' and Cecily.  He told her about his transformation, not just from man to vampire, but from scared boy who hid from life to monster who thrived on power and destruction.  He was honest with her, never leaving out parts he knew turned her stomach.  He bared his non-existent soul.

Sometimes, when they slept, Anne would have nightmares.  Spike would wake-up to the sound of her screaming.  It was the only time Anne would allow him to touch her.  She would cling to him while the memories racked through her body.  She would talk about the torture she experienced, using the words to clear the demons from her head.  Spike learned about the beatings, the mind games, the rapes of both her body and her mind.  He never asked questioned, never spoke, just held her close.  When it was over, when the terror had passed, Anne would crawl away from him.  He knew she was as disgusted with herself as Buffy was – turning to a monster for comfort.  Anne would use his strength, his closeness, but she would never admit that she needed him.

Spike shook the sorrow from his eyes as Anne looked at him questioningly.  He didn't realize that he had drifted into his own thoughts.  "Sorry, pet.  Just thinking."

"About her?"  Anne turned her face away from Spike's probing eyes.  There were some things she couldn't share with him.  They were feelings that belonged to another woman.  What Spike never understood and something that she would never explain was that at night she didn't turn away form him because she was disgusted.  She turned away because she wanted more.  She wanted him.  She was in love with him.  But she would never betray Buffy like that.  "There are times when you look at me, I know you see her." 

Spike tried to make light of the situation.  "Well, you are her identical twin."  Anne could tell him everything about Buffy's past, but after that first night, she was uncomfortable talking about the Buffy that Spike had left behind.  He had tried to tell her about the Slayer's life since her return, but Anne always stopped him.  Somehow, it was too agonizing for her to hear.

Anne looked back at him, meeting his eyes with a seriousness that was almost painful.  "No, were not, Spike.  You know that.  We share the same history, but we aren't the same.  I couldn't be Buffy again even if I wanted to.  Things are different now.  I'm different."  Anne lowered her eyes, a signal that the conversation was over.  Spike remained silent.  It was another typical day in Hell. 

---TBC