Title: The Outcasts
Author: FerretGirl
Pairing/Characters: Wesley/Spike, Faith, Willow.
Rating: PG13 to NC-17
Disclaimer: They boys and girls are not mine, I'm just playing with them.
Summary: A second chance, a new beginning?.
Spoilers: AtS S1 to 4, BtvS S3 and S5/6 I guess. At the beginning S4 of AtS and S7 of BtvS, Joss and I go our separate ways
again.

A big thanks for my beta's miniera, and eloise_bright for their help and encouragement.



The Outcasts



Two small boats made their way over to The Tormente as quietly as they could. One contained the Hulk, Faith and Spike; in the other one were Willow, Jack and Gordo. The Cynosure itself was manoeuvring slowly and quietly toward The Tormente.

The plan was simple. Sneak aboard the ship, rescue Wesley and sneak away again. But the broadswords and axes they were all carrying betrayed the fact that they were expecting trouble. Deep down, Willow knew that both Spike and Faith hoped for trouble. And if she was honest, so did she, she felt the need to do some serious damage to someone on-board that ship.

Without making too much noise, the experienced sailors moved their little boats along side The Tormente. Grappling hooks were slung over the railing and they climbed aboard, Gordo staying behind to keep an eye on the boats.

"Where do we look first?" Faith whispered.

But she needn't have asked, Jack slowly raised his hand and pointed toward the mast of the main sail.

That was when they saw the bruised and battered body, arms tied above the head, hanging from a pole. Blood oozing from several wounds, blisters covering over half the body. Wesley.

"Oh god," Willow sobbed, her hand flying to her mouth in shock.

Spike's grip on his sword tightened so much his knuckles turned white.

"Is he...?" Faith began, taking a hesitant step toward Wesley's body.

"He's still alive," Spike nodded, quickly moving over to Wesley. Looking over the wounded body he couldn't even begin to count the many cuts, bruises, burns and what ever was underneath. The old Spike was no stranger to torture, but the new Spike felt nauseated by the sight alone. It might have had something to do with the person it had happened to.

"Hurry, untie him," Faith hissed. She was trembling and almost couldn't look at Wesley. God it was terrible, so much blood, was this how Wes had looked like after she was done with him so long ago? She couldn't remember, wouldn't remember.

"Hold on to him," Spike said. He waited till Faith and Willow both held Wesley under his arms and then cut the ropes that bound the wrists. Carefully he moved the arms lower, knowing full well that it would hurt like hell. The man's muscles had been in this upward position god only knew how long.

The pain in his arms woke Wesley. Groggily he looked up, and saw Willow and Faith peering down at him worriedly. They were here, they had come to get him. He felt a jolt of relief and joy go through him. Swallowing, or rather trying to swallow, he opened his bruised mouth. "You came," he croaked, then hissed as Spike fully lowered his arms. "You need to get the hell out of here," he managed to mutter desperately.

Puzzled the other three looked at him. Of all the possible greetings Wesley could have given them, this wasn't one they had anticipated, nor expected.

"We are, but not without you," Spike said, slowly lowering the wounded man to the ground. Wesley's legs were obviously giving out on him. The vampire could feel the other man trembling, whether from pain or from trying to keep himself under control he didn't know.

"You...don't understand," Wesley tried again. His entire body hurt even more now than when he had been hanging from that pole. He had to blink several times to clear his eyes from the tears that had formed there. "It's...a trap."

They froze and looked up, to see they were surrounded by the crew of The Tormente. The filthy men were armed to the teeth and grinning down at them.

"We meet again," The Captain said, giving Spike a nasty smirk. He brought up his sword and caressed it with his hand. "You lot are so easy."

Spike narrowed his eyes and looked at Faith. Behind her he saw both Jack and the Hulk ready for action. And so was he, more then ready, especially after he'd seen what they had done to Wesley. "Ready to kick some pirate ass?" he asked Faith.

Faith grinned back at him, holding on tight to her axe. "More then ready," she said grimly, her hand brushing over Wesley's arm. "Left or right?"

"I'll go left," Spike said, giving Bully a murderous look. "Protect Wes," he ordered Willow. Then he jumped up, knocked down two men and immediately went for The Captain. The sounds of their swords clashing together signaled the beginning of the battle.

Faith jumped to the right, hefting her axe and slashing at anything or anyone that got in her way. From the corner of her eye she noticed that both Jack and Hulk had also jumped into the fray and were fighting off several crew-members of The Tormente.

Willow moved behind Wesley and grabbed him under the arms, trying to move him out of the way as carefully as she could. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she babbled when she heard the man bite back a cry of pain. But she kept moving until they reached the railing and were relatively safe.

Trying to say something, Wesley cleared his throat, only to start violently coughing. Willow grabbed the flask of water she had tied around her waist. Carefully she lifted the flask up to his lips. "Slowly," she said, softly brushing the hair on his forehead.

Gratefully Wesley slowly swallowed a few sips of water, cooling down his painful throat. Then he watched wearily as his friends fought off the crew of The Tormente. "All my fault," he groaned, "I'm so sorry, you shouldn't have come."

Willow blinked down at him puzzled and then frowned angrily. "Wesley Wyndam-Pryce!" she scolded, waving a finger at his face. Which was quite an achievement in the position they were in. "Not everything is your fault alright! What did you think? We were just going to leave you here and forget about you? I don't think so! Stop blaming yourself this instant, it's not your fault!"

Wesley grimaced at her, "but..."

"No!" Willow insisted, stabbing a finger at him, "get over it, it's not your fault. Jeeze, are you always this difficult?" she said, trying to clean away some blood with a piece of cloth she had ripped from her vest.

Wesley tried to say some more but was interrupted by a shout from Faith.

"We're not having any effect!" She shouted frustrated, "It's like there's a force field around those assholes!" She was kicking left and right, but it indeed looked as if there was a barrier protecting the crew.

"The mage," Wesley whispered, trying to grab Willow's tunic to get her attention. The muscles in his hands still weren't working, but he managed to bring up his hand.

Willow gently caught the hand and leaned forward. "What is it?" she asked.

"The mage," Wesley whispered again. He moved his head a tiny bit to glance at the black robbed figure hiding behind some barrels. "He's...protecting them."

Willow followed the Watcher's gaze and saw the man hiding behind the barrels. He was chanting in some obscure language, but Willow recognized the energy of a powerful protection spell. "I can counteract the spell," she said looking down at Wesley. "But...but I've already used so much energy, if I do this, I won't have any left for...for healing," she told him.

She was close to tears. What was she suppose to do? It was obvious Wesley was desperately in need of healing, but her friends were starting tire and were loosing the battle.

"Take him out," Wesley told her.

"But what about you?" Willow asked, tears flowing down her face now.

Wesley gave her a ghost of a smile. "I'll be fine; it'll just take me a bit longer to heal."

"Master of the understatement," the Witch muttered, looking over the bruised and battered body of her friend. "Are you sure?" she sniffed.

"What other choice do we have? Do it," Wesley said firmly.

Nodding briskly, Willow closed her eyes. Concentrating on the protection spell she could feel around her, she called upon the energy she needed. Opening her eyes she looked directly toward the Mage. The man had noticed her now too and was blinking his completely white eyes at her. He opened his mouth to say something, cast a spell perhaps, but he never got that far. Willow pushed the counter energy with all her might in the direction of the Mage and with an enormous red flash, the man disappeared into thin air.

Taking a shaky breath Willow looked down at Wesley again. "Well done," he said, giving her a painful smile. He gasped when a stab of pain went through his body. When the blackness came this time, he fought against it. Wanting to see how his friends were holding up, wanting to make sure they were going to be alright. He lost the battle.

Holding on to an unconscious Wesley tighter, Willow looked up to see how the other battle was fairing.

Faith, with the help of Jack and Hulk had no problem taking out the crew, now that the protective barrier had vanished. They hauled them overboard, tossing them into the sea one by one. Gordo, tired of waiting in the tiny boats, had come aboard as well and was gleefully helping out. Until the only one left was Captain Bully.

He and Spike were still circling each other. "Now it's a fair fight," Spike growled, "nothing to protect you."

Captain Bully shrugged. "I don't need protection, I can take you any day," he scoffed.

Spike brought up his sword and narrowed his eyes at the man. His mind was a turmoil of fury, all he could see was Wesley hanging bleeding from that pole. And here was the man who was responsible for that. He would make that bastard pay.

In one move Spike jumped forward, slashing his sword against the Captain's arm, managing to cut deep. The man gasped and quickly sidestepped the next blow. Bringing up his own sword, the Captain moved to strike down Spike, but the vampire was faster and had his sword up to block the man's attack.

In one swift move, Spike kicked the man in the stomach and watched as his adversary fell backward. He grabbed onto the man's sword, yanking it out of the his hand. Then he leapt on top of Captain Bully and placed the tip of his sword against the man's throat.

"You hurt my friend," Spike growled into the man's face. "I should kill you for that." Spike pushed the point of his sword deeper, breaking the skin, a small droplet of blood trickling down.

"Spike, don't," Faith's voice interrupted. "If you do that, you're no better then him."

Spike glared down at Captain Bully for a long moment, and then removed the sword. "You're not worth the effort," he spat. He nodded at Jack and Gordo who took hold of The Captain on either side, ready to remove the man.

"I know that was hard," Faith said, giving the vampire an encouraging smile. "But you did the right thing."

"I know," Spike said, letting out a shaky breath. "Let's take care of Wes," he nodded, turning around, with Faith on his heels.

A sudden shriek made them stop. They turned around just in time to see Captain Bully snatch away Gordo's dagger. He jumped away from his captors and held the dagger to his heart. "Glory in death!" he yelled and stabbed himself in the heart. To Faith and Spike's amazement, he exploded in a cloud of dust.

"I so didn't see that coming," Faith said, blinking down at the pile of dust.

"Bloody drama queen," Spike muttered. "Saved us the work though."

They looked down at the pile of dust for a few moments and then turned around to join Willow and Wesley. The Watcher had regained consciousness and was looking at his friends with pride in his eyes.

Spike knelt down next to the man and carefully brushed his hand over the battered face. "Hey," he smiled at him. Bending down, he placed a soft kiss on the bruised mouth.

"Hey yourself," Wesley said softly, giving him a weak smile.

Spike kept smiling back, putting one arm under Wesley's legs, the other around his shoulders and gently lifted him up. He looked over to where The Cynosure was now drifting along side the other ship. "Let's get you home."

Wesley's smile grew bigger as he looked at each of his friends. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Spike's arms around him. Holding him, supporting him, keeping him safe.

"I am home," he whispered.

~*~*~*~


Captain Traxda had paled and cursed out loud when he'd seen Wesley. He'd ordered them down to see the doctor and Miranda, not that he needed to, but just because he didn't know what else to say.

"What is that god-awful stench?" Traxda asked when he came aboard The Tormente. There was still the matter of what to do with the remaining crew. Though there were little left after that battle.

"Dunno," Gordo shrugged. "Hulk went down to take a look." He'd only just said the words, when the man in question stumbled back on deck again, looking even greener then his original coloring.

Without a word Hulk raced toward the railing and lost the contents of his stomach to the sea below. Both Jack and Gordo looked at each other worriedly. Hulk was one of the most stoic, tough men they had ever met, what he had seen down below must have been extremely horrible to have shaken him up this much. They weren't sure they wanted to know what he had found below, if it could rattle him this much.

When the green man was done, he staggered over to a puzzled looking Traxda. "Slaves," the huge man told his Captain. "All of them dead, some for quite a long time."

Captain Traxda took a shaking breath. Then he glanced back at the remaining crew of The Tormente. His eyes narrowed as he glared at each of them. "Put them in the life boat with some fresh water and food and get them out of my sight," he said roughly.

Gordo and Jack immediately went into action. And if they were a bit rougher then they needed to be, who could really blame them.

"What about...?" Hulk asked, gesturing with his hand below deck.

"We'll have to burn the ship," Traxda answered. He took another deep breath, grimacing as the stench assaulted his nostrils and then turned around to go back to The Cynosure. The sooner they were going to be on their way again, the better. The sooner they were going to arrive in Maxion, the sooner he could get the Sea Council together and talk about the 'code of the sea' and the changes they were going to have to make to those. Because if he had learned one thing from this entire ordeal, it was that the 'code of the sea' was utter shit and needed some major changes.

~*~*~*~


Wesley was lying in a bed in the makeshift infirmary. Usually patients on board were treated in their own bunks. But they needed more room to move now, since none his friends would leave him.

The doctor had thoroughly examined Wesley, concluding that there were no life-threatening injuries, but it would take some time to heal properly. There were broken bones, bruises, blisters, cuts that needed stitching, burn wounds and dehydration.

Leaving Wesley's friends to start cleaning away the blood and dirt, the doctor and his wife had gone to their cabin to collect several medical supplies they were going to need.

Spike was massaging Wesley's swollen hand's in an attempt to get the blood flow going again. He was alternating between rubbing the hands and kissing them. Sitting next to Wesley his hands never left the other man's body. Feeling the need for touch, the need for reassurance that Wesley really was alive.

Faith and Willow both were carefully cleaning away the blood and dirt. The cook had brought over several buckets of fresh boiled water, but they were going to need more, so much more. They were currently using their third or maybe fourth cloth. Wincing whenever Wesley was unable to hold in a cry of pain.

After gently moving Wesley to his side, Faith was cleaning his back. Staring down at the numerous slashes criss crossing over the bruised flesh. Faith was getting dizzy. So much blood, so many cuts; it was too much, and suddenly she couldn't see Wesley anymore, just a mass of blood, cuts, bruises.

I think I want to hear you scream.

Looking down she suddenly saw a piece of glass in her hand, instead of the cloth, blood dripping from it. She could smell burning flesh. Chocking back a sob she dropped the cloth and backed away from Wesley. "Oh god," she gasped. "What have I done, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she sobbed softly, pressing a shaking hand to her mouth.

She wrapped her arms around herself and kept backing away, toward the door, ready to flee outside.

"Faith."

It was the sound of his voice that stopped her. Slowly she lifted her head to look at him. Wesley had turned around and was looking at her with pain-filled eyes, understanding written all over his face. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Faith, come here," Wesley said, holding out a trembling hand. "I haven't the strength to stand up to get you, please Faith."

Hesitantly Faith took a step toward Wesley. All she could see was Wesley, and blood, and cuts, and bruises. When she reached him, she sank to her knees. One finger reaching out to trace a scar on his collar bone, one she had given him. "I'm so sorry," she said again.

"I know you are," Wesley said softly. With Spike's help he sat up a little straighter. He put a finger under Faith's chin and pushed it up to look into her eyes. "I forgive you Faith, I did so a long time ago," he told her.

"How? How could you possibly forgive me?" Faith wanted to know, looking into those impossibly blue eyes.

"Because I know you now," Wesley simply said. He painfully moved one arm around her and pulled her closer. "I know you and I forgive you," he whispered. "Let it go."

And for the first time since that fateful night in the rain, so long ago, Faith cried.

She buried her head against Wesley's shoulder and cried. Finally letting go of what she had been keeping inside for so long. Guilt, sorrow, regret. She cried even harder when she felt one small hand rubbing over her back and a larger hand gripping her shoulder comfortably.

And slowly her tears became tears of joy. Because for the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged. Here were three people who knew everything she had done in the past, every unspeakable crime she had committed. Yet they still chose to be her friend, they still chose to forgive her and they chose to be her family.

~*~*~*~


The sounds of desperate mutterings woke Spike. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes he looked over at Wesley's bunk. Worriedly he watched as the Watcher tossed and turned, tangling himself in the thin, cotton sheets.

"No, please don't," Wesley pleaded in his sleep.

It wasn't the first time since the torture that Wesley had a nightmare, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Spike frowned and got out of his bunk when the pleas were getting more desperate.

Untangling the sweating man from the blankets, Spike climbed into the bunk, sitting behind Wesley and wrapping his arms around him, whispering comforting words. Trying to comfort Wes when he was having nightmares always made the vampire feel powerless. He couldn't very well go into Wes' dreams and hit this Captain Bully again.

"No, father, that's not true," Wesley whispered desperately.

Spike froze, this was new. Wesley was dreaming about his Dad? The vampire didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing he could think of. Hold onto Wesley and keep whispering meaningless words, until the man would relax again and rest in a dreamless sleep.

~*~*~*~


Sitting on the deck, Wesley closed his eyes and snuggled against Spike's chest, enjoying the fresh air. After a short argument with the vampire, which Wesley had won, Spike had helped him up to the deck. Though not without comments about stubborn watchers who were doing things too fast and too soon.

Spike was sitting behind Wesley, arms loosely around the watchers waist. Ever since they had rescued Wesley from The Tormente, Wesley had very little problems with open displays of affection, to a certain degree. Looking down at the watcher in his arms, Spike smiled at the look of utter contentment on the other man's face.

It had been two weeks since the torture and this was the first time the others had allowed their friend to go up on the deck. The bruises were starting to fade, bones were beginning to mend, and the pain was getting less.

Spike, Faith and Willow all kept their eagle eyes on the watcher. Learning early on that Wesley tended to shrug off injuries and go back to work far too quickly, even thought it was obvious to anyone with eyes that he couldn't.

Spike had leaned toward berating him with words and physically holding him down, not that took much work, or locking the door to the cabin.

Faith had taken on her old routine of mocking him, but the worry underneath her words was clear. And if all else failed, she too would lock him in his cabin.

Willow had just looked at him with a face that spoke volumes and then took away his books or even his glasses if she thought he was studying too hard. After which she gave him a lecture about stubborn men who thought they were super-humans.

Wesley had taken it all in his stride and with some amusement. Knowing full well that they were right, he just couldn't help himself. It was like second nature to him to shrug off what happened to him.

"Happy?" Spike asked, leaning in to plant a kiss on the other man's temple.

"Hmhm," Wesley murmured, moving the tips of his fingers over Spike's arms. His hands were still stiff and he had some trouble getting the muscles there to work. But the doctor had assured him that it would all would be well, in due course.

"You had a nightmare last night," Spike said, remembering how Wesley had woken up trembling and gasping for air, looking around the cabin in fear. How he had crawled into the watcher's bed, held him and muttered reassuring words.

Sighing Wesley opened his eyes and looked up at Spike. "I know," he said. "But it's only to be expected. And they are getting less frequent."

"Don't mean I have to like it," Spike huffed, rubbing a hand up and down Wesley's arm. He moved down the arm and took hold of Wesley's hand, rubbing and massaging it. It had become a habit for him to do this. Wesley had assured him that it felt good and relaxed the muscles.

"This one was different, though, wasn't it?" Spike coaxed him gently. "It wasn't just Bully this time."

Wesley laced his fingers with Spike's, though it took some effort, and brought them up to his lips. He kissed each finger slowly and then rested their entwined hands on his chest. "Did I ever tell you I had a very strange hallucination on board that ship?"

"No," Spike said, trying to keep his voice calm, though his grip on Wesley tightened a bit. He was glad Wesley talked about his ordeal to him, but sometimes it was a little too much to deal with. Since the one who was responsible was already dead and, though that fact was still mystery, dust.

"My father came to visit me," Wesley nodded, "to make sure to point out how I had messed this chance up. Berated me for being with you."

"That wasn't real, pet," Spike said with some anger in his voice. Wesley had told him very little about his father, but what he had said, together with what Spike had learned from the man's nightmares, made the vampire wish to be soulless for an hour if he ever met that bastard Roger Wyndam-Pryce.

"Yes," Wesley agreed, rubbing his thumb over Spikes hand. "Pity though," he smiled.

Puzzled Spike leaned forward to look into Wesley's eyes. "Why's that?" he asked utterly bewildered.

Smile growing bigger, Wesley moved up a bit and captured Spike's lips for a soft kiss. He sucked the vampire's bottom lip into his mouth and ran his tongue over it. "Because," he said as he pulled away a bit, "I told him that I loved you and didn't give a rats arse what he thought about that."

The joy and excitement Spike felt welling up inside him with that statement was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He gave the watcher a goofy grin, that completely damaged his reputation of big, bad vampire. "Really?"

Wesley gave him a shy smile. "Really," he whispered. He moved his other hand up to rest on the nape of Spike's neck. Fingers tangling in the short hair, pulling him down for another kiss, ignoring his protesting ribs for a moment as he lost himself in the kiss.

Only happy to oblige, Spike leaned in closer, mindful of the man's still healing injuries. He pushed his tongue into the open mouth, gently nipping the bottom lip, his hand slowly sliding through the other man's hair. When Wesley moaned into his mouth he pulled back, unsure if it had been a moan of pleasure or from suppressed pain. "I think I love you too," he whispered putting his forehead against Wesley's.

They both bit down on a chuckle when close by they could hear someone mock gagging, followed by a playful slap from someone else.

"I think it's cute," Willow's voice said, as she glared at the Slayer who was making the gagging sounds.

"Yeah well," Faith said as both girls sat down next to them, "I think we should just keep that between the four of us. Or their reputation as badass boys will be totally shot."

"Are you alright?" Willow asked looking intently at Wesley. She gently brushed her fingers over a fading bruise on the side of Wesley's face. "You're not overdoing anything are you?"

Making a small frustrated sound in the back of his throat, Wesley closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm *fine*" he said.

"Yeah right," Faith snorted. "You remind me of that black knight from that Monty Phyton movie. Bleeding to death but insisting it's only a flesh wound."

Wesley opened his eyes and stared at her for a moment before bursting out laughing.

The other three looked at him surprised, smiling automatically along with him. It wasn't often that Wesley laughed, but when he did it was a moment to cherish. They all thought the man should laugh more often, and vowed to make sure he was going to do so.

Holding onto his side, Wesley took some effort to calm down. "Ow," he winced and glared at the others when they leaned forward worriedly. "I don't know what's more amusing," he said, catching his breath. "You knowing Monty Python, or you knowing how to make an analogy."

"Hey!" Faith mock scowled, "I can do..."

They looked up startled as suddenly the ship started to shake, a rush of water could be heard and a large shadow fell over The Cynosure. Struggling to get up they looked around bewildered. Spike helped Wesley up, protectively keeping an arm around him.

Then they saw it.

On the right side of the ship, a huge, scaly sea creature appeared. Its head was about the same size as The Cynosure alone. Small blueish green wings spread out above its back, sea water sparkled on its green and blue iridescent scales, glowing red eyes looking down at them. It opened its mouth wide, showing off an impressive set of sharp teeth.

"Holy shit!" Faith shouted, taking on a fighting stance. "It's a sea serpent whatever!"

The sea creature threw itself up at its full hight as much as possible and glowered down at them. Folding, or more trying to fold, its short little stumps of arms across its massive chest. "Sea Dragon!" It said indignantly in an oddly high pitched voice. It rolled its glowing red eyes to the sky and raised its short arms toward it. "Why is it so hard for you humanoids to grasp that concept? Sea Dragon!" it huffed rather insulted.

- TBC

2004 by FerretGirl