Witches, Vampires and Invisible Men Part 6

By: Tazzy (jellicalcat1@yahoo.com)

Rated NC-17

Author's notes: This is where it not only gets dark, but starts earning its rating.

Warning: mention of rape

The familiar tiled walls and floor surrounded him as the steam from his shower swirled around his lanky form like a content pet. Resisting the urge to close his eyes and just enjoy the hot water, Darien quickly washed the sweat and dirt off his skin. As the last of the soap swirled down the drain, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he turned to find Big Eddie standing there, a cruel smirk on his face that made Darien's blood run cold. Big Eddie was only a few inches taller than Darien himself but he had shoulders in two time zones and looked like he could bench press a semi if he had a mind to. According to the grapevine, Big Eddie was serving back-to-back life sentences for murdering two cops. Apparently, he crushed their heads in his bare hands, and that together with his size, made him the new 'boss' of the yard. Darien had done his best to stay out of Big Eddie's way since he had only a month left on his stretch, but apparently, he hadn't done as good of a job as he had thought.

"Well, well, well, looks like the pretty boy is making himself smell good again," remarked Big Eddie, his voice carrying the flavor of the East Coast. At the words 'pretty boy', Darien's heart sank. It was what the other inmates called those they took as partners in bed, usually a weaker inmate that wouldn't fight back or couldn't. Darien wasn't a fighter, but he had managed to bribe others with his skills as a thief to keep from becoming someone's Pretty Boy.

A weak grin spread across his face as he backed away from the larger man. Maybe he still had a chance to get out of this. "Hey Big Eddie, need me to get something for ya?" inquired Darien as the slick tiles of the shower met his back, raising goose bumps across his skin from the chilled ceramic. Maybe if he stalled long enough, a guard would come in and help separate them. "I'm real good at getting hard to get items."

Those cold, dark eyes traveled over his body like lasers and the smirk grew slightly. "Yeah I know you are, pretty boy, but I want only one thing from you," remarked Big Eddie as he approached Darien, apparently unconcerned about the water that stained his clothes. Glancing around, Darien tried to judge if he could get past the mountain of a man and maybe get to a guard before he got hurt, but Big Eddie was filling the area, not giving the smaller man any room to maneuver in. "From what I understand, you're a hard to get item yourself."

Darien looked around desperately for a guard to stop this before it went too far but Big Eddie only chuckled at his actions. "Don't worry about the guards, pretty boy, they won't bother us until our business is done." Darien shook his head in denial before strong hands gripped his arms and whirled him around until his face was pressed into the tiles, his wrists firmly trapped behind his back in a meaty hand. The sound of a zipper being lowered was thunderously loud in the large room and a whimper of fear escaped his lips. "Yer *my* bitch now, Pretty Boy," hissed the cruel, cold voice in his ear as something hard poked him in the back.

An agony filled scream erupted from his throat as pain tore through him...

And it died on his lips as he sat up in bed; his legs tangled in sweat drenched blankets. His eyes darted around the room as his body ached with the nightmare's assault, and after a few minutes, Darien was able to slow his breathing and convince his heart to return to his chest. Drawing his knees up to his chest, Darien wrapped his arms around them and laid his cheek on his knees, looking for the world like a lost little boy. It had been over a year since he had been woken with one of the memory nightmares from his last month with Big Eddie Deluca, and in all honesty, he thought he was over them.

'So what brought them back and why now?' he thought, running an irritated hand through his mussed hair.

The urgent pounding on his door brought him out of his thoughts and Darien managed to get about halfway across the room before the door was shoved open. Instinctively, the cool tingle of quicksilver engulfed him and he faded from sight just as the door opened completely.

"Darien? Are you okay?" asked Claire, her voice full of concern as she followed Hobbes, who had drawn his gun, into the room.

Shedding the quicksilver with a thought, Darien faced them. "I'm fine," he replied with a shrug. "Just a nightmare." Turning his back on Claire, he scooped up his jeans from off a nearby chair and pulled them on over his boxers, trying to ignore the way his hands were shaking and the embarrassment of Claire catching him in his boxers to begin with. "So what's on the agenda for today?" He hoped that Claire would get the message that he didn't want to talk about it. Hobbes had learned after their third stakeout together that Darien would talk about something when and if he wanted to. And being raped by Big Eddie during that final month in prison was not something that the lanky man wanted to talk about any time soon.

"Miss Chase called and invited us back to the Hyperion for a planning session," stated Hobbes. "We were on our way to wake you up when we heard you yell." He shrugged, but didn't press for details. "You can grab breakfast on the way." Darien nodded and slipped his shirt on before running a brush through his hair and following them out the door.

A brief stop at a little coffee shop provided Darien with a doughnut and a cup of coffee, which he devoured without really tasting either. He had hoped that the memories of Big Eddie and his time in prison had faded with time, but something had brought them back. He was still trying to figure out what had triggered the nightmares when they walked into the lobby of the hotel. Sinking down into a nearby chair, he shook his head in frustration and attempted to push the memories and the feelings of hopelessness that went with them back into the dark corner of his mind that they had emerged from.

The hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts and he looked up in surprise to see Willow standing there with a concerned look on her face. "Are you okay?" she asked in a soft voice. When he nodded, she sat down next to him and propped her chin up on a small fist. "Well, the good news is that the spell worked and Angelus is no longer a threat to the world. As for any further plans, all Cordelia knows is that Angel left her a message to contact David Nabbitt and invite him over." She sighed and glanced up at him. "I really hope he can do something about Spike's chip."

Darien frowned and looked at Willow. Her emerald eyes were distant with her thoughts and cloudy with worry. "What chip?" He asked, his voice as soft as hers had been a few seconds ago.

She blinked and turned those too wise eyes on him. "That must have been forgotten in all the excitement last night," she remarked. "There was this group of military guys in Sunnydale called the Initiative. They basically captured demons and experimented on them. At least the soldiers captured the demons for the scientists to experiment on." Her lips twisted in a sneer. "Hitler would have loved them. Anyway, Spike was careless and they captured him. The outcome of his visit there was a computer chip in his head that gives him killer migraines when he tries to hurt a human. It doesn't matter if he's trying to drain them or if he's just defending himself." He saw the misery in her eyes for Spike and realized that there was love there as well. He idly wondered if Spike knew about Willow's feelings for him. "He can hurt demons with no problem, but he can't even defend himself if some human decided to mug him in an alley. Not without consequences."

'At least his problem doesn't turn him into a red-eyed psycho,' mused Darien, absently rubbing the back of his head as his eyes drifted shut. God, he forgot how draining those nightmares were.

"What do you mean by that?" inquired Willow. Frowning, Darien turned to look at her with a question in his eyes. "What did you mean when you said that Spike's problem doesn't turn him into a red-eyed psycho?"

"Aw crap," muttered the lanky man as he fell back against the cushions. "Tell me I didn't say that out loud." He opened his eyes long enough to notice the amusement in Willow's emerald eyes before allowing his to close again. "I said that out loud. Crap." A muffled giggle drifted to his ears and coaxed a smile out of him. "Okay the short version is that this gland in my head leaks quicksilver. Unfortunately, when too much quicksilver builds up in my blood, it basically takes away all my inhibitions. Kinda like being drunk except the killer migraines that accompany it turn me into a very cruel drunk at best."

A warm hand rubbed his shoulder, offering comfort for something that she couldn't completely understand. "So how did you get this gland thing?" inquired the redhead. "Were you born with it, or did you get it later?"

"Oh I definitely got it later," he replied in a sarcastic voice as his thoughts drifted back to that fateful day...

He glared at the well-dressed man crouching next him in his shiny Doc Martins and impeccable dark sweater and suit. The clammy chill of the Solitary Confinement Cell managed to penetrate the basic orange overalls that he wore like the rest of the prisoners. Kevin was handing him his freedom on a silver platter and hoped that he'd take it without asking about the hook the size of a harpoon that was sitting in it.

"I'm your brother, Kev, not a lab rat." Yes, he wanted his freedom but for his brother to operate on him because of some experiment?

Kevin returned the glare. "We don't have time for this pride thing."

"Pride thing?" yelped Darien in disbelief, jumping up and stormed across the cell before turning back to face Kevin. "This is my body. Now you wanna play doctor with it?"

"You rather your pen pals play something else?" The look in Kevin's eyes announced that he wanted Darien out of here before that happened, and he didn't have the heart to tell him that it was too late for that. "I'm not saying that it's not a risk. But it's better than throwing your life away. If you're gonna trust someone, trust me."

That forced an ironic smirk onto Darien's face. "Why, 'cause you're my brother?"

"Because you don't have much of a choice..."

With a sigh, Darien forced his thoughts out of the past and focused on his hands as they dangled between his knees. "See, my brother was this scientist and he'd developed the gland and needed a test subject. Well, I was looking at life for getting convicted for the third time, and in exchange for my freedom, all I had to do was agree to allow Kevin to put me under a knife. It wasn't until after that he told me what he had done and the madness appeared."

"Can't your brother help you with this gland?"

Darien shut his eyes as the memory of his brother in his arms, the crimson lifeblood staining the white lab coat in a mocking way, laughing at Darien as he begged Kevin not to leave him. "Kevin's dead," he said, trying to keep his emotions out of his voice and failing. "There was a terrorist on the team that had slipped in somehow, past the security checks. Kevin died in my arms, protecting me from one of the gunmen." The familiar feelings of rage and hopelessness bubbled up in him and he tried desperately to push it down before it overwhelmed him.

Cool hands gently brushed over the back of his tightly clenched hands and his eyes flew open to find a large dark figure bending over him. Instantly, his nightmare surged forward and with a scared yelp, Darien practically clawed his way through the couch in his effort to get away. A hand gripped his arm and out of pure desperation, he swung his free hand at the figure's face, hearing the satisfying crack of bone as the grip on his arm vanished. He scrambled over the back of the couch and ran, not caring where he was going or who was following. All he knew was that he had to get away, had to escape before the pain and misery came again.

Something large slammed into his legs and he crashed to the floor with a heavy body pinning him down. "Yer my pretty boy now, bitch!" snarled the voice of Big Eddie as he was flipped onto his back. A strong hand held his wrists above his head while the weight settled across his hips, pinning him to the hard marble and defying his attempts to break free.

Shaking his head in a poor attempt to deny the situation, Darien tried to pull his wrists free from the inhuman grip as tears ran down his face, unchecked. 'Nononononono! Not again!' he silently wailed in his mind as another hand gripped his chin, forcing his head to remain still. He clenched his eyes shut and bit his lip to stop the soft whimpers that were building in his chest, threatening to break free. Whimpers and pleading only made Big Eddie rougher.

"Darien? Can you hear me?" It was a new voice. Maybe there was hope there, hope that Big Eddie was done with him, hope that he could convince this new voice to let him go in exchange for different favors. "Open your eyes, Darien, and look at me."

Hesitantly, Darien pried his eyes open to find a familiar looking man hovering over him and the whimpers broke free. "Don't hurt me. Please don't. Do whatever you want. Steal whatever you want. Don't hurt me."

The hand that had been holding his chin had moved to gently caress the side of his face in a soothing manner, and against his will, he felt his body relax into the touch. "Easy, Darien. I'm not going to hurt you," murmured the voice, a trace of an accent creeping into the words. "Come back to us, Darien. Yer scarin' yer Keeper an' yer partner."

Slowly, the voice and the gentle actions broke through the haze of terror that held him and Darien blinked, finding himself looking up into the concerned face of Angel. The trickle of dried blood and the crookedness of his nose testified that it had been broken. Hesitantly, the grip vanished from his wrists and Angel climbed off him to crouch beside him as the rest of the memories trickled back.

"Are you feeling better?" inquired Angel, his voice still soft as if soothing a startled animal.

"Yeah," replied Darien as he sat up and rested an arm on his knees. "Sorry, don't know what came over me." Angel looked like he was about ready to argue but decided not to. He only rose to his feet and held out a hand to help Darien stand. He flinched slightly before recovering and accepting the cool hand. Carefully, Angel pulled him to his feet before turning Darien's hands over to reveal the bloody crescent marks that marred the skin. Darien blinked in surprise at the injuries. He must have clenched his fists so tightly that this nails dug into his skin, the physical pain buried under the mental pain of his memories.

Casually, Darien returns to the couch and drops onto it into a comfortable sprawl, acting for the world as if nothing was wrong and nothing had happened. Hobbes looked like he wanted to press his lanky partner for details but didn't. Instead, he settling for tossing concerned glances in his direction.

"So what's the plan?" inquired Darien, trying to force the attention off of him and on to something more productive.

Angel casually stood nearby, his arms folded across his massive chest. "Last night while coming back from a well-known demon bar, Spike and I ran into someone that is believed to be part of Wolfram and Hart," he began, looking around the room.

Hobbes raised his hand, looking like a grade-schooler. "How do you know that he was from the lawyers?" he demanded, not willing to take anyone's word on anything.

"For one thing, he was able to identify us just by a brief exchange of words and then remarked that 'they' had extensive files on both of us," replied the dark vampire. "Now, he believed that I was Angelus and that Wil and I had reconciled. So, if they believe that Angelus is back, they'll probably try to contact us."

"So what do we do until then?" demanded Cordelia, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. "Just stand around and wait for them to make the next move?"

Angel smiled in a comforting manner. "Actually, we're going to start planning for the probability that they'll invite us to their party," he announced. "Now the easiest way to get others in with us is as pets or childer."

"Excuse me?" interrupted Claire, her accent making her sound extremely polite. "Pets?"

Spike grinned. "Of course," he purred, looking like a content cat. "Vampires often take a human as a pet. Especially if they would rather have them in their bed instead of just another minion wandering around." A slight shrug of his shoulders caused his jacket to creak. "Besides, there's something about curling up with someone warm to heat your chilled carcass."

"I can put together some spells that will project the idea that someone's a vampire," stated Willow, her eyes unfocused as she thought this out before ticking the items off on her fingers. "Enhanced strength, glamour to mask the heartbeat, body temperature and for the demon's face, and one to lower morals and inhibitions."

"So the main question is how many are going?" remarked Cordelia.

Angel nodded. "I want Willow there because she can get into their computer systems and can reinforce the spells if necessary," he said. "However, I would like one more person with her who has the ability to get into places unseen and can rifle through files in cabinets while she's working at the computer." As he said this, his eyes drifted over to meet Darien's and a chill raced down his spine that had nothing to do with quicksilver. "The main question is what cover you're going in under."

"Well, I can go as your newest childe, because I've got that skanky vamp me to use as a reference for my behavior," remarked Willow, tossing Angel a smug smile. "Managed to play her before and quite successfully too." A puzzled look crossed her face. "Angel, who would be more likely to wander off alone; two new childer or a childer and a pet?"

"Definitely a childer who wanted to play with the sire's pet," drawled Spike. "Two childer could slip out but not two recently made childer."

Darien felt the weight of that dark gaze on him and he looked up to meet the questioning glance. "What does a pet do?" he asked, surprised when his voice managed to remain steady despite the emotions churning in his gut.

Spike shrugged casually. "They're basically what their title calls them. They're human pets that do whatever their Master asks of them whether it's to warm their bed, for a shag, or to kill off another vampire who's becoming irritating," he drawled. "They're dressed to their Master's preference including wearing anything and everything that they want their pets to wear. Or not wear in some cases."

Darien nodded, and closed his eyes. "Would it seem strange for Angelus to have a male pet?"

That earned him a snort from Spike as the peroxide blond stretched on the couch. "Considering that the Irish bastard only gave me 'bout fifteen minutes ta get over a broken heart? Not that strange," he announced, his Cockney accent slipping slightly to reveal an accent that sounded closer to Claire's.

"What would I have to do to convince other that I was your pet?" Darien asked, looking at Angel.

"What?" demanded Hobbes, leaping to his feet to face Darien as Claire yelped, "Darien, you can't be serious!"

Growing frustrated, Darien ran his hands through his hair. "Look, we need to find out Chrysalis's angle in all this and I know what to look for," he announced, forcing his frustrations from his nightmare out into his words. "Okay, we know that Stark is a backer of Wolfram and Hart, but that's *all* we know. Between this gland and my skills as a thief, I'm the better choice to get in, get the info, and get out again without getting caught." He leveled a glare at both of them. "If it makes you feel better, Claire, you can be waiting nearby with the counteragent since I'm probably gonna push the gland to its limits."

"Just what is your limit?" asked Willow, her green eyes shining with curiosity as she waited to place this new information into whatever plan that was developing behind that curious gaze.

"Half hour of invisibility solo, half that if there's two of us, or six days of no invisibility," rattled off Darien absently. "Now, how does a pet act?"

Angel and Spike exchanged glances before Spike shrugged. "You've had more experience with pets than I have, Peaches," the peroxide blond stated.

"Basically, a pet is devoted to their Master," began Angel, slowly as if he was gathering his thought. "They do anything and everything that is asked of them by their owner as well as any other person that their Master has given permission to, which includes childer, few honored minions, and occasionally other Masters. The pets are usually chosen for their looks and trained to be obedient with both pleasure and pain."

Darien shrugged. "So all I have to do is act like I'm totally devoted to you and would be willing to do anything to keep you happy," he clarified, battling his nervousness slightly. He could do this. It wouldn't be hard to act like he was attracted to Angel, but he had to force back the panic and fear that came from the handsome vampire's size and presence.

'My Pretty Boy' hissed Big Eddie's voice, taunting him from his memories and causing Darien to flinch slightly. He *had* to do this, if only to prove to himself that he could forget all about Big Eddie and bury him once more in the past where he belonged.

Just then, the door of the lobby opened to admit a man with brown hair and a huge grin on his face. His clothes were a pair of casual tan slacks with a polo shirt and the first thought that crossed Darien's mind upon seeing him was a high school geek that never grew up.

"Greetings my fellow fighters of evil!" greeted the new arrival in an excited voice as he spread his arms. "What notorious villainy is afoot?"

Angel stepped forward with a small smile. "Mr. Nabbitt, thank you for coming," he began only to be interrupted.

"Its just David," replied the man, practically bouncing on his toes. "How can I help?" His dark eyes were bright, and he appeared almost like an eager puppy willing to do anything to help. Despite the dark memories that haunted him, Darien found himself smiling.

*******************************

Spike looked at the bouncing ball of energy that was in the form of a man and felt his disbelief rising. *This* was the man that his Sire hoped would be able to disable the chip? He looked like he belonged in a science class or at least with a pocket protector and glasses.

"David, we need you to deactivate a chip for us," explained Angel in a casual tone.

The man, David Nabbitt, shrugged. "No problem," he replied. "Where is it?"

"In my head," growled Spike, trying to cover his nervousness with anger. It wasn't that he didn't want the chip gone, but he couldn't help but worry about what might go wrong. He'd been helpless once thanks to Buffy and a church organ, but this time, if something went wrong, there was a possibility that he'd be trapped inside his body or turned into a mental vegetable. A warm hand touched his hand, snapping him out of his thoughts and he turned, startled, to find Willow looking at him with concern. "What?"

"I asked you what exactly does this chip do and where is it located," repeated David with a huge grin.

Spike sighed and leaned forward to balance his elbows on his knees. "The main thing it does is give me a bloody headache whenever I try to hurt a sodding human, even if all I'm doing is defending myself," he explained, feeling every one of his 125 years. "As for where the bloody thing is, somewhere back there." He gestured absently to the back of his head and felt David approaching the back of the couch as his muscles automatically tensed in preparation for an attack.

Gentle fingers carefully traced the back of his skull as if looking for something before withdrawing. "There is definitely something there, and if it is this pesky chip of yours, then I'll be able to deactivate it," announced the man in a professional voice. "I just need to get an electro-magnet to erase whatever commands they put on that little thing. It'll be easy!"

"How will an electro-magnet help?" asked Angel, his voice soft and Spike realized that his sire could feel his nervousness. "And will it hurt Will?"

"Of course," breathed Willow, smacking her forehead with an open hand. "Goddess, how stupid could I be!" She stood up and started pacing. "We've been focusing so much on a magical or medical removal of the chip that we completely forgot that it's just a computer chip." Spike watched her, curious, as she babbled. "An electro-magnet will erase the commands that are placed on the chip without hurting the chip itself. Like taking a magnet to a cassette tape or a diskette. It will wipe that chip clean until all that's left is a piece of metal in your head."

Spike reached up and caught he wrist as she passed by him again. "Red, you didn't know," he began.

Whirling with her eyes flashing, Willow glared at him. "Yes I did," she groaned. "Remember, I'm the one that the group turns to whenever something is needed off the Net?"

"Okay, but you're so use to looking at the supernatural and freaky, that you're not use to the mundane and ordinary anymore," announced Cordelia, folding her arms across her chest with a slight snort as she looked at Angel. "I know between my boss being a vampire and a ghost for a roomie, I can't remember what 'ordinary' is anymore."

Spike looked up at David as he released Willow's wrist. "How soon can you get this electro-magnet?"

Instead of replying, David whipped out a cell phone and dialed a number from memory. "Hi, Phillip," he greeted when someone picked up on he other end. "Do you still have that electro-magnet that you were playing with? You do? Cool! Can you bring it to the Hyperion Hotel? I need to borrow it for a few minutes." He was silent for a few minutes before sighing. "Okay, I'll go easy on you at the next game. How soon can you get here? Great! See ya then." Hanging up, he turned to face the others. "Phillip will be here in about fifteen minutes with his electro-magnet."

Unable to sit still any longer, Spike suddenly stood and stalked towards the kitchen. He leaned against the cool counter and closed his eyes as the reality of what was happening washed over him. In a half hour, he would be able to hurt humans again and hunt for himself. If nothing went wrong. True, Willow said that this wouldn't hurt him, but how many times had his hopes been raised like this only to have his feet kicked out from under him. He didn't need this again. Not if it cost him everything. He had his sire back, not as an overbearing Lord and Master, but as a friend and companion, and a friend in Willow. He may love the tiny red head witch, but he was unsure about her feelings, other than friendship, towards him.

"Are you going to be all right, Will?" asked a soft voice behind him. Startled, Spike turned and found Angel standing there with a concerned look on his face.

Spike stood there for a few seconds, uncertain what to say when Angel opened his arms slightly; offering the smaller vampire comfort and the peroxide blond stepped into that strong embrace, shamelessly taking that comfort. "Honestly, Sire, I'm scared," he whispered into that broad, silk covered chest. "Yeah, Red and the nerd say that it's harmless, but thanks to a certain blond Slayer, I've been crippled before. That only lasted about six months, but if something goes wrong with this..." His voice had lost all trace of his Cockney accent, revealing the Upper Class background that he had come from. "I don't want to be trapped in my own mind because this chip got buggered."

A gentle rumble echoed through Angel's chest and spread to Spike's form, loosening muscles that were tense from stress and panic. "Ye'll be fine, Will me boyo," purred Angel, running his fingers through the bleached hair as he held Spike close with his other arm. Closing his eyes, Spike leaned into the caress, an answering purr rising from his chest. "Aye'll be here fer th' entire thing an' ye'll never be left alone."

He didn't know how long they stood there like that, but as far as Spike was concerned, it wasn't long enough. Over a century of being without the larger man had been torture for Spike, and now, that companionship that he craved was being offered with no strings attached. "Missed you, Sire." The confession was a breath of air released between them and large fingers tilted his head up. Startled blue eyes met warm brown before Angel placed a soft kiss on the smaller man's lips.

"Come on. David should be ready by now," remarked Angel, releasing Spike and stepping back slightly. Blinking in surprise, Spike nodded one and turned to leave the kitchen with Angel following. Neither noticed the slender figure partially hidden by the shadows near the door, which followed their retreat with large eyes as she bit her lower lip in an effort to contain her tears.