After Adam's defeat, the spoils of the 314 project are up for grabs. Spike & Willow find themselves at the centre of a web of intrigue.
Disclaimer: Any characters and locations from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series are the property of Mutant Enemy
Chapter 17: Spike goes to Willow looking for a cure.
Spike ran as if the very legions of Hell pursued him. He had no idea how long he had before the drug began to slow him down and he needed to get to the one person who might be able to do something before it was too late.
When he arrived at Willow's house he had no real idea of how he had got there. The house was in darkness, but when he hammered loudly on the front door a light went on in the room that he had identified as Willow's bedroom. He heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and the door opened a fraction. He had no time for games tonight. Throwing himself against it he knocked a startled Willow aside and then fell at her feet, clutching at the legs of her pyjamas.
"Willow, you've got to help - they've killed me."
He was panicking and could feel it transferring to Willow. He knew that he was handling this all wrong but he didn't have time for finesse on this occasion. Still...he took a deep, if unnecessary, breath and unclenched his fingers from the frightened girl's clothes.
"They've given me the antidote to the immortality drug. I've seen what it can do and I'm not going to end that way. I need you to stop it."
Willow stared wild-eyed at the vampire kneeling before her. "How? I mean...I..."
He didn't have time to beat around the bush, "you're the witch, dammit. There's got to be something you can do to get this out of me."
Willow shook her head, frantically. "An ordinary healing spell's not going to work on you, they're for the living. I don't know what to do."
He felt his rage flare in response to the fear that was growing in the pit of his stomach and climbed to his feet, taking her by the shoulders. "Can't you just look something up? You're supposed to be the clever one, the one with her nose in the books, the one who's been reading all those files."
Willow's panic began to recede under this onslaught and she started to fight back. "I've never come across anything about removing immortality in the Reculance files, only how to confer it. I've no idea what they gave you or how it works which means I can't find out how to cure it."
Spike couldn't let himself believe that there was nothing she could do to help him. "Well then, can't you do some sort of magic that'll tell you what's wrong with me?"
She spread her hands wide. "But you're already dead. How could anything else be wrong with you?"
He wanted to shake her. "Just try dammit, I don't know how long I've got."
She sighed. "OK, I'll try a simple scrying spell to see if I can find anything out." Now she had settled on a task she calmed and became all business. "I need to get some supplies, you go upstairs and wait."
She headed off in the direction of the kitchen and Spike went up the stairs towards the only room with a light which he assumed, rightly as it turned out, was Willow's. She had obviously had as sleepless a night as he - the bed was still made and the computer screen glowed in the corner. He couldn't just lie and wait, instead choosing to pace restlessly around the room picking up and putting down the various nick-knacks and detritus of Willow's childhood that littered the surfaces.
At length he heard the sound of her footsteps in on the stair and Willow entered, carrying a jug of water. Putting it down on a cloth-covered table, she started rummaging in her drawers and pulled out some candles. If he had been in the mood for humour, Spike would have smiled at the fact that Willow hid her witchy paraphernalia in her undies.
She arranged the candles around the room then turned and ordered Spike to lie on the bed. "I need you to relax."
"Do I need to take anything off?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Not really, but get yourself comfortable - this might take a while."
Spike took off his coat and settled on Willow's bed, watching her as she moved around the room making her preparations. Willow returned to the table and poured the water into a shallow dish that was resting there, adding black ink and swirling it around until the water was dark. She them moved around the room lighting candles before returning to the altar.
"Air for speed, Fire to cleanse, Water to bless, Earth to manifest, Spirit to seal."
As Spike watched, she held out her cupped hands and then opened them as if allowing something to fall.
"As above, so below. This circle is sealed."
Spike saw her relax and heard her breathing become slow and rhythmical as she gazed into the cloudy water. He wasn't sure whether she was even aware of him or the room any more. He waited, for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only ten minutes or so, until he finally heard Willow take a sharp intake of breath. She held her hands out once more as if gathering something in, closed her eyes briefly and then turned to him looking perplexed.
He could feel her reluctance to speak and knew there was bad news coming. Well, he wasn't going to sit around all night waiting for her to pluck up enough courage to pronounce his doom so he snapped, "Well? What do you see?"
The confidence she had exuded earlier had completely vanished. "I can't 'see' anything."
He rose to his feet. "What do you mean, you couldn't see anything? You must have seen something."
"Only the usual things I would associate with a vampire, nothing unusual at all. If there's something there, it's camouflaged."
He couldn't follow this in his current state. "Camouflaged?"
It's so like the rest of you that it's not showing up as an imbalance," she tried to explain. "It's like I told you before, because you're dead anything deadly seems like...like it's just part of you."
"So what you're saying is I'm hoist on my own bleeding petard?" He summarised bitterly.
"I guess so." She held her hands out to him. "Spike, I tried - really I did."
"Yeah, Pet, I believe you."
"I don't want you to think that I didn't try just because you, you know, tried to kill me before, because these past few weeks have been nice. Even if you are a demon I don't want something bad to happen to you when I could have done something about it."
She looked so miserable that Spike wrapped his arms around her as if she was the one that was under a death sentence. She returned the embrace and laid her head on his shoulder.
So this was it. He'd finally been caught in a web of his own making. It'd be funny if it weren't so bloody tragic. He could feel Willows uneven breaths fanning his neck and he stroked her hair idly, saying: "Don't fret, I've had a pretty good innings."
At this she began to sob quietly. He'd been right when he'd thought he'd end up with soggy shoulders before this was over. Spike's mind went back to that occasion and remembered another, far more pleasurable, part of the encounter and the conversation that had led up to it. Being a creature who knew an opportunity when it was staring him in the face or, indeed, crying on his shoulder, Spike asked the only question possible in the circumstance: "Care to help make my last three minutes memorable?"
Willow raised her head and looked intently into his eyes for a long moment before speaking a single word:
"Yes."
Disclaimer: Any characters and locations from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series are the property of Mutant Enemy
Chapter 17: Spike goes to Willow looking for a cure.
Spike ran as if the very legions of Hell pursued him. He had no idea how long he had before the drug began to slow him down and he needed to get to the one person who might be able to do something before it was too late.
When he arrived at Willow's house he had no real idea of how he had got there. The house was in darkness, but when he hammered loudly on the front door a light went on in the room that he had identified as Willow's bedroom. He heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and the door opened a fraction. He had no time for games tonight. Throwing himself against it he knocked a startled Willow aside and then fell at her feet, clutching at the legs of her pyjamas.
"Willow, you've got to help - they've killed me."
He was panicking and could feel it transferring to Willow. He knew that he was handling this all wrong but he didn't have time for finesse on this occasion. Still...he took a deep, if unnecessary, breath and unclenched his fingers from the frightened girl's clothes.
"They've given me the antidote to the immortality drug. I've seen what it can do and I'm not going to end that way. I need you to stop it."
Willow stared wild-eyed at the vampire kneeling before her. "How? I mean...I..."
He didn't have time to beat around the bush, "you're the witch, dammit. There's got to be something you can do to get this out of me."
Willow shook her head, frantically. "An ordinary healing spell's not going to work on you, they're for the living. I don't know what to do."
He felt his rage flare in response to the fear that was growing in the pit of his stomach and climbed to his feet, taking her by the shoulders. "Can't you just look something up? You're supposed to be the clever one, the one with her nose in the books, the one who's been reading all those files."
Willow's panic began to recede under this onslaught and she started to fight back. "I've never come across anything about removing immortality in the Reculance files, only how to confer it. I've no idea what they gave you or how it works which means I can't find out how to cure it."
Spike couldn't let himself believe that there was nothing she could do to help him. "Well then, can't you do some sort of magic that'll tell you what's wrong with me?"
She spread her hands wide. "But you're already dead. How could anything else be wrong with you?"
He wanted to shake her. "Just try dammit, I don't know how long I've got."
She sighed. "OK, I'll try a simple scrying spell to see if I can find anything out." Now she had settled on a task she calmed and became all business. "I need to get some supplies, you go upstairs and wait."
She headed off in the direction of the kitchen and Spike went up the stairs towards the only room with a light which he assumed, rightly as it turned out, was Willow's. She had obviously had as sleepless a night as he - the bed was still made and the computer screen glowed in the corner. He couldn't just lie and wait, instead choosing to pace restlessly around the room picking up and putting down the various nick-knacks and detritus of Willow's childhood that littered the surfaces.
At length he heard the sound of her footsteps in on the stair and Willow entered, carrying a jug of water. Putting it down on a cloth-covered table, she started rummaging in her drawers and pulled out some candles. If he had been in the mood for humour, Spike would have smiled at the fact that Willow hid her witchy paraphernalia in her undies.
She arranged the candles around the room then turned and ordered Spike to lie on the bed. "I need you to relax."
"Do I need to take anything off?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Not really, but get yourself comfortable - this might take a while."
Spike took off his coat and settled on Willow's bed, watching her as she moved around the room making her preparations. Willow returned to the table and poured the water into a shallow dish that was resting there, adding black ink and swirling it around until the water was dark. She them moved around the room lighting candles before returning to the altar.
"Air for speed, Fire to cleanse, Water to bless, Earth to manifest, Spirit to seal."
As Spike watched, she held out her cupped hands and then opened them as if allowing something to fall.
"As above, so below. This circle is sealed."
Spike saw her relax and heard her breathing become slow and rhythmical as she gazed into the cloudy water. He wasn't sure whether she was even aware of him or the room any more. He waited, for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only ten minutes or so, until he finally heard Willow take a sharp intake of breath. She held her hands out once more as if gathering something in, closed her eyes briefly and then turned to him looking perplexed.
He could feel her reluctance to speak and knew there was bad news coming. Well, he wasn't going to sit around all night waiting for her to pluck up enough courage to pronounce his doom so he snapped, "Well? What do you see?"
The confidence she had exuded earlier had completely vanished. "I can't 'see' anything."
He rose to his feet. "What do you mean, you couldn't see anything? You must have seen something."
"Only the usual things I would associate with a vampire, nothing unusual at all. If there's something there, it's camouflaged."
He couldn't follow this in his current state. "Camouflaged?"
It's so like the rest of you that it's not showing up as an imbalance," she tried to explain. "It's like I told you before, because you're dead anything deadly seems like...like it's just part of you."
"So what you're saying is I'm hoist on my own bleeding petard?" He summarised bitterly.
"I guess so." She held her hands out to him. "Spike, I tried - really I did."
"Yeah, Pet, I believe you."
"I don't want you to think that I didn't try just because you, you know, tried to kill me before, because these past few weeks have been nice. Even if you are a demon I don't want something bad to happen to you when I could have done something about it."
She looked so miserable that Spike wrapped his arms around her as if she was the one that was under a death sentence. She returned the embrace and laid her head on his shoulder.
So this was it. He'd finally been caught in a web of his own making. It'd be funny if it weren't so bloody tragic. He could feel Willows uneven breaths fanning his neck and he stroked her hair idly, saying: "Don't fret, I've had a pretty good innings."
At this she began to sob quietly. He'd been right when he'd thought he'd end up with soggy shoulders before this was over. Spike's mind went back to that occasion and remembered another, far more pleasurable, part of the encounter and the conversation that had led up to it. Being a creature who knew an opportunity when it was staring him in the face or, indeed, crying on his shoulder, Spike asked the only question possible in the circumstance: "Care to help make my last three minutes memorable?"
Willow raised her head and looked intently into his eyes for a long moment before speaking a single word:
"Yes."
