Chapter Two: Intervention
Word Count: 1014
Rating: PG
It was the dumbest plan ever. Let myself get the shit kicked out of me by a Hellgod. Hell, force her to kick the shit out of me. But it at least got me out of the room. Although, admittedly, if Buffy and company hadn't come rushing in at the last second, I'd have been dust in the wind once the maggotty minions caught up with me downstairs.
But they did come rushing in, like a bunch of white knights come to save me. Or kill me. Or possibly both and not necessarily in that order.
And so instead of hanging by my wrists from the ceiling of Glory's living room, I found myself being carried through the cemetery by Giles and Xander. Neither of whom were being particularly gentle. And, as it was the middle of the damn day, sun high in the sky, I was covered by some sort of incredibly scratchy sheet of material that rubbed against a cut on my face, making my eye water. One of my hands flopped out from under the fabric and started to sizzle. Neither Giles nor Xander seemed to notice. I groaned slightly and considered moving it, only to discover that I had no motor function at all. Great. I figured that at least if I burst into flames, I'd take those two blighters with me.
"Watch the head," Giles reminded. He was carrying my feet, leaving Xander in charge of my upper body.
"Yeah. I'll watch the head," Xander smirked. Two seconds later, the top of my head grazed what I could only assume was a tombstone.
"Xander..." Giles's tone was more amused than warning.
"I told you! I am watching the head! I see it right there in front of me!" I felt my head brush up against another tombstone, the cold marble an electric shock against my shattered cheek.
How do I get myself into these situations? Why didn't I just tell Glory about Dawn? Then the Hellbitch and I could have joined forces to bring this sodding planet to an end. It would have been easy. It would have been the end of it and I wouldn't have to worry about this stupid chip or Buffy or any of her silly little friends.
But Buffy would have stopped it somehow. She always will, in the end. It's what she does. What she's here for.
Still. That doesn't mean I have to help break her. And giving Dawn up would have broken her, that's for damn sure. Just lost her mom-- The Slayer doesn't need to lose anyone else, least of all the only family she's got left. And I don't... I don't want to be the one to hurt her. I don't know what that means, but it's the truth.
"Xander, get his hand." Finally, Giles noticed. Xander grabbed my hand and shoved it back under the fabric, sending throbbing pains through my upper arm, up through my temple and out the back of my head where the second tombstone had grazed it. I probably would have yelled if I'd had the capacity to make any noise louder than a low grumble.
Once we were inside my crypt, they pretty much threw me onto my makeshift bed. I think I might have groaned a little in protest as my head cracked against the concrete. It was the most I could muster.
"Spike. Spike!" Giles shouted at me and shook my arm. The very same arm that was attached to the hand that no more than 60 seconds ago had been flopping around in the sunshine. Giles was now flopping it around, grinding concrete dust into the burn. Fucker.
"I don't think he's conscious, Giles."
Yeah, I am. I just can't actually open my eyes. Or my mouth. Or move any part of my body at all. Otherwise, I would have beaten the crap out of you two for the manhandling. Or, with the chip, at the very least I would have cast an intimidating stare in your direction.
"Well, we need to know if he told Glory about Dawn. If he did, Buffy and Dawn could be in grave danger."
"Yeah, I know. But Giles, I don't think he did." That took me by surprise. Was Xander defending me?
"What makes you say that? Spike has only his own interests in mind. Glory clearly tortured him. He'd have no reason not to admit everything he knows." Yeah, screw you too, Watcher.
"Look at him, though. She beat the crap out of him. Looks like she-- ew, it looks like she stuck a finger in his chest." I could feel Xander hovering over me, inspecting the damage. "If he'd told, would she have done this to him? She did this to get him to confess what he knew, but he didn't. He was running away from those little miniony guys when we got there." Pffff. I wasn't running away. I was gearing up to fi-- Oh, screw it. Yeah, I was running away. I could barely stand after Glory had her way with me.
It was silent in the crypt for several seconds while Giles seemed to survey the damage and consider Xander's point.
"Why wouldn't he tell her?" Giles asked. His tone was lighter now, like he believed Xander and was only asking the question out of Watcherly obligation.
"Because he's in love with Buffy," Xander replied softly. "Or," he continued, louder, "he thinks he's in love with her. Maybe he thought he could win her over by protecting Dawn. Be the big, bleached blond hero. Save the day. Win the girl."
Was Xander-- Did he just say "hero?"
"And besides," Xander added, "Even if he did tell her, he wouldn't admit that to us." Thanks for the vote of confidence, Xander. Ass.
Giles paced around the crypt. "I suppose you're right. And we're not going to get anything at all out of him right now, anyway. Let's go." They started to walk out, but Xander stopped and looked back at me.
"She really tore him up, Giles."
"I know."
Word Count: 1014
Rating: PG
It was the dumbest plan ever. Let myself get the shit kicked out of me by a Hellgod. Hell, force her to kick the shit out of me. But it at least got me out of the room. Although, admittedly, if Buffy and company hadn't come rushing in at the last second, I'd have been dust in the wind once the maggotty minions caught up with me downstairs.
But they did come rushing in, like a bunch of white knights come to save me. Or kill me. Or possibly both and not necessarily in that order.
And so instead of hanging by my wrists from the ceiling of Glory's living room, I found myself being carried through the cemetery by Giles and Xander. Neither of whom were being particularly gentle. And, as it was the middle of the damn day, sun high in the sky, I was covered by some sort of incredibly scratchy sheet of material that rubbed against a cut on my face, making my eye water. One of my hands flopped out from under the fabric and started to sizzle. Neither Giles nor Xander seemed to notice. I groaned slightly and considered moving it, only to discover that I had no motor function at all. Great. I figured that at least if I burst into flames, I'd take those two blighters with me.
"Watch the head," Giles reminded. He was carrying my feet, leaving Xander in charge of my upper body.
"Yeah. I'll watch the head," Xander smirked. Two seconds later, the top of my head grazed what I could only assume was a tombstone.
"Xander..." Giles's tone was more amused than warning.
"I told you! I am watching the head! I see it right there in front of me!" I felt my head brush up against another tombstone, the cold marble an electric shock against my shattered cheek.
How do I get myself into these situations? Why didn't I just tell Glory about Dawn? Then the Hellbitch and I could have joined forces to bring this sodding planet to an end. It would have been easy. It would have been the end of it and I wouldn't have to worry about this stupid chip or Buffy or any of her silly little friends.
But Buffy would have stopped it somehow. She always will, in the end. It's what she does. What she's here for.
Still. That doesn't mean I have to help break her. And giving Dawn up would have broken her, that's for damn sure. Just lost her mom-- The Slayer doesn't need to lose anyone else, least of all the only family she's got left. And I don't... I don't want to be the one to hurt her. I don't know what that means, but it's the truth.
"Xander, get his hand." Finally, Giles noticed. Xander grabbed my hand and shoved it back under the fabric, sending throbbing pains through my upper arm, up through my temple and out the back of my head where the second tombstone had grazed it. I probably would have yelled if I'd had the capacity to make any noise louder than a low grumble.
Once we were inside my crypt, they pretty much threw me onto my makeshift bed. I think I might have groaned a little in protest as my head cracked against the concrete. It was the most I could muster.
"Spike. Spike!" Giles shouted at me and shook my arm. The very same arm that was attached to the hand that no more than 60 seconds ago had been flopping around in the sunshine. Giles was now flopping it around, grinding concrete dust into the burn. Fucker.
"I don't think he's conscious, Giles."
Yeah, I am. I just can't actually open my eyes. Or my mouth. Or move any part of my body at all. Otherwise, I would have beaten the crap out of you two for the manhandling. Or, with the chip, at the very least I would have cast an intimidating stare in your direction.
"Well, we need to know if he told Glory about Dawn. If he did, Buffy and Dawn could be in grave danger."
"Yeah, I know. But Giles, I don't think he did." That took me by surprise. Was Xander defending me?
"What makes you say that? Spike has only his own interests in mind. Glory clearly tortured him. He'd have no reason not to admit everything he knows." Yeah, screw you too, Watcher.
"Look at him, though. She beat the crap out of him. Looks like she-- ew, it looks like she stuck a finger in his chest." I could feel Xander hovering over me, inspecting the damage. "If he'd told, would she have done this to him? She did this to get him to confess what he knew, but he didn't. He was running away from those little miniony guys when we got there." Pffff. I wasn't running away. I was gearing up to fi-- Oh, screw it. Yeah, I was running away. I could barely stand after Glory had her way with me.
It was silent in the crypt for several seconds while Giles seemed to survey the damage and consider Xander's point.
"Why wouldn't he tell her?" Giles asked. His tone was lighter now, like he believed Xander and was only asking the question out of Watcherly obligation.
"Because he's in love with Buffy," Xander replied softly. "Or," he continued, louder, "he thinks he's in love with her. Maybe he thought he could win her over by protecting Dawn. Be the big, bleached blond hero. Save the day. Win the girl."
Was Xander-- Did he just say "hero?"
"And besides," Xander added, "Even if he did tell her, he wouldn't admit that to us." Thanks for the vote of confidence, Xander. Ass.
Giles paced around the crypt. "I suppose you're right. And we're not going to get anything at all out of him right now, anyway. Let's go." They started to walk out, but Xander stopped and looked back at me.
"She really tore him up, Giles."
"I know."