Spike lost all feeling in his arms. He opened his eyes heavily looking up at the chains that had held him prisoner for hours now, his feet barely touching the floor. "Bloody bitch," Spike swore. He was only wearing a pair of black jeans, the rest of his clothes hung around the crypt. He shagged her silly, she hit him over the head with something big and now here he was, hanging from his crypt ceiling by his arms.

He gripped the chains and tried pulling, "Bloody hell…"

"So, he awakens."

He turned his head to see Faith walk into the room. She had a knife in her hand. "I hear vamps are the best to torture." She said with a smile, "That true?" she asked. "Because, they can live through almost anything I can throw at them."

Spike smirked, "Right, almighty slayer." He rolled his eyes.

Faith shook her head. "Not smart, vampire." She said taking the knife and without warning plunging it into his biceps smiling when she heard the pain-filled scream that left the bleached boy's lips. Faith took the knife and twisted it hearing the vampire scream. Not satisfied, thinking the scream before was louder, she pulled it out.

"You crazy, bint." Spike growled.

Faith grabbed his chin and held it in pace while she punched him hard in the jaw, hearing it crack. She moved away from him. Grabbing a bag from underneath a chair in the crypt and brought it over to where Spike was, she opened it.

"What's that now?" Spike asked, trying to see what she had.

She pulled out a lighter, flicking it on a few times. Then moving up to him, running her fingers over his body. Feeling out his muscles. "Bag of tricks." She whispered. She took her hand away, playing with the lighter again. "I had a choice, either a lighter or matches." She smiled, "So, naturally, I picked both."

Spike watched her closely; she was out of kicking range now. He wished he'd done it when he had the chance. He wasn't sure what she was up to exactly.

"Do you know what it's like?" Faith asked grabbing her bag, "Waking up in a world, and suddenly everything's different?" Faith grabbed a long poker. "It's been how many months since that bitch put me in a coma?!"

"Do you ever tire of hearing yourself speak?" Spike asked looking bored.

Faith grabbed the knife off the floor and moved to him quickly about to stab him when Spike's legs kicked her back. He screamed in pain. To kick her he had to use his arm to pull himself up. Pain shot through his body like lightning.

Faith took the opportunity to slash him across the chest. Blood pouring out of the wide wound she'd put there. Spike bit his lip, keeping himself from screaming. She stepped back, "I was talking." She said and moved back to her bag, she pulled out a newspaper and started to rip the pieces up and throwing them into a garbage tin. When the papers almost filled the can she took out a match, lit it, and threw it into the tin. Watching in amusement as the papers shriveled and burned.

Spike watched as she grabbed her poker and stuck it into the tin. "Great." He sighed. He winced at the cold air from the crypt touching the wide cut on his chest, but it wasn't the worst, the hole in his arm was worse. Preventing him from breaking free. And… it hurt like hell.

She grabbed a bottle out of the bag and walked over to him. "You know what really hurts like hell on vamps?" Faith asked unscrewing the cap to the bottle, pouring a little bit on his chest smiling wickedly as he roared in pain, she watched as his skin sizzled and smoked. "Holy water." She smiled. "Must really hurt." She said looking fascinated at the water. She rubbed some between her fingers and smiled, "Funny, an old guy once blessed this stuff." She looked at him, "So, really, it's all his fault for this."

Spike clenched his jaw, which was already healing. He was pretty sure that she popped it out of place somewhere. She moved to the fire she'd made and took Spike's shirt off a near by chair, then wrapped it around her hand. "Wouldn't want to get burned, would I?" She asked grabbing the poker and pulling it out of the fire, she walked over to Spike. She took the hot poker and plunged it through the thigh of his left leg, the leg he kicked her with.

Spike screamed.

But it didn't stop her, just encouraged her to do more. She grabbed the bloody knife off the floor again and laid it flat over his cut. "It's kinda pretty." She said out of nowhere. "What made someone out of the blue decide to make a knife like this?" She asked looking at the patterns on the blade.

Then without any warning she stabbed the knife up into the cut in the middle of his chest. The whole blade imbedded in his skin. Flat, in-between both his breastbone and skin. Spike tried his hardest to hold back the scream but had no luck; the scream violently tore through his body.

He screamed again, gaining a laugh from Faith.

Faith held the knife firmly in her palm she used her free hand to sweep over his chest, and to where the knife was underneath the layers of skin. She took her thumb and pushed hard where the tip of the blade was under his skin.

Spike bellowed out in agony, tears shining his blue eyes, "BLOODY HELL! Woman!" He unconsciously when to grab his chest forgetting he was chained and that it would cause unbearable pain by just moving his arm.

Spike watched the brunette Slayer, as she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. She looked up into his eyes. "If I twisted this knife right now." She said poking it upward, gutting him like a fish. "You'd think that poker in the leg was a trip to heaven."

"Heaven?" Spike gritted out. He tried desperately to pay no attention to pain shooting through his bruised and bloody body. "Tough it out" was the motto.

Faith smiled at the fear he tried his hardest not to show. He did. She shook the knife making sure she hit the uncut skin and then pulled it out, violently ripping through more of his skin.

Spike's eyes widened and a silent scream racked through his insides like a rigid piece of glass.

Faith ran her fingers across the six-pack she had already cut into. She outlined the wide cut with her finger, hearing him wince. "It's weird." Faith whispered as if she was talking to herself. "How something… so small can cause so much pain." She finished looking at the blood-covered knife.

Blood.

It covered him, his chest, getting soaked in the waistband of his jeans. "How much did it hurt?" she whispered. Then out of nowhere, she was mad again. "Is it just me or does everyone have to have the fucking blond?! Am I always going to be second best?! I can tell you're thinking of her!" She screamed punching him in the face. "Stop!"

Spike closed his eyes and tried to gather his strength. Willing the scream in his throat to be silenced. He couldn't say a word. He didn't try. It seemed impossible to stop the pain. She just kept adding to it. At first he thought the Slayer, Buffy, would waltz in wanting information or something. But even the slightest hope of Buffy finding him was gone now. He needed to get this girl away from him, out of his crypt. On his own.

A Half Hour Later

Faith stepped away and watched Spike hang from his wrists unconsciously. His pale body covered in so much blood. She looked down at her hands. Blood covered every inch of them. Every inch of it was his. "Come on, Billy." She said snapping out of her daze. "Wakey wakey." She grabbed hold of a hot poker that was still sticking out his leg. She shook it.

Spike inhaled sharply, "Bloody… stop." He whispered.

"You want me to stop?" She asked pulling the poker out in one swift move.

"Aggh!" Was his muffled cry.

Faith moved back to her bag and pulled out her bottle of holy water. "It's weird." She repeated from earlier. "Some people don't believe in God," She explained. "If there isn't a God. This shouldn't hurt." She poured some holy water onto her palm.

Spike watched as she placed the palm of her hand down flat on his chest, she watched the pain flicker across his face, she could feel his skin sizzle and burn underneath her warm palm. He didn't scream.

----

Buffy and Riley patrolled the cemetery. "You're you don't… want me to stay?" Riley asked.

Buffy shook her head, "Positive." She smiled. "I need to stop by Spike's crypt anyway. See if he knows anything about the new big bad."

"Adam's gonna be hard, Buffy, and I don't trust Spike."

"I don't either… but he was in there. You know as a prisoner. He might know something." She said.

----

Faith took her holy water and poured some into the cap. She spilled a small amount into the long cut on his stomach. His insides literally burning now, he bellowed out, screaming in pain as his blood sizzled and burned in unspeakable agony.

Faith backed away, to her fire taking his shirt and wrapping it around her hand again. "So, Billy, I've only got three pokers… there's too many body parts."

Buffy walked into the old crypt, something was wrong. She could feel it already. "Spike?" she called softly, the place smelt like fire, smoke, and… blood. Buffy walked further into the crypt looking down in the rabbit hole. She jumped down and walked further in. "Spike?" She called again, louder.

Buffy's eyes widened when she saw him, hanging motionless from the ceiling. His face seemed untouched. Except for the bruise on his right cheek, the rest of him was a disaster area. Blood. Blood covered his body, from head to toe. In his right arm he had a poker sticking through it. She winced at the look of him.

His chest, covered in gallons of blood, too much blood. She couldn't even see where the wounds were. There was a poker sticking out from right above his bellybutton.

Not having time for her brain to tell her that she didn't care, she rushed to him. Buffy looked down, her boots covered in the blood that bathed the floor. His blood. She grabbed the silver key from the table just next to him. Then froze. "Spike?" She whispered again. A sob caught in her throat.

Spike blinked open his heavy eyes when he heard her voice. To much concern to be Faith's voice. There was the blond slayer standing before him. He could hardly lift his head to say anything. His whole body hurt. Pain. But at the same time, relief fluttered in the pit of his stomach. "B-B…ffy?"

Buffy nodded, "I'm going to get you down." She promised.

Spike nodded.

Buffy hesitated and then put the key in her jacket pocket. She watched as panic flashed before his eyes, "I need to get these things out you, first." Buffy explained. She saw him slowly slipping into unconsciousness.

Spike blinked a few times, trying to fight off the darkness that was slowly consuming him.

Buffy moved closer to him she went to grab the poker in his stomach but pulled back as soon as she touched it and hissed in pain.

His eyes opened instantly, checking to make sure she was okay.

Buffy looked around the room for something to help her. Anything.

Spike noticed she was fine and closed his eyes. Willing the pain away.

Buffy looked around franticly and her eyes fell on the shirt next to the little bon fire. She grabbed it seeing all the bloody knifes and other torture devices on the floor next to the fire. She inhaled, willing herself not to get sick. She wrapped the shirt around her palm and made her way back to Spike.

"This will hurt." Buffy whispered gripping the poker. She pulled it out in a swift move. Spike screamed out in agony. "Only one more." Buffy whispered again, reassuring him.

She gripped the one in his arm, she realized how much this would hurt and closed her eyes and she pulled it out. Spike shrieked loudly. His eyes snapping open and she smiled lightly at him, "T's okay, that was the last of them." She whispered.

She grabbed the key out of her pocket again and reached up, one hand at a time. He fell on her, completely needing her for strength. She held him around the waist and slowly made her way to the bed, dumping an unconscious Spike down gently.

She sighed, she needed to get him out of those jeans, but first she needed to clean off the blood. She looked around and got up from the bed, she moved to his kitchen area grabbing a bowl, filling it with some warm water and grabbed an old black shirt she found lying around.

On the way back to the bed she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the shower area. A mirror, she walked up to it. Her eyes widening at the woman looking back at her, her hair was almost completely red, from the blood, her hands and clothes drenched in the thick red liquid.

She came back into the room with her hair up in a ponytail and her jacket off, she walked to the bed. He hadn't moved. At all. She sat down next to him, placing the bowl and cloth next to her. She slowly started to clean him. Starting with his chest. She worked her way down. Slowly cleaning the blood away and cleaning the cloth into the pool of water. After mopping away all of the blood, she looked at the damage and winced.

There was a burn on his side that looked like it was in the shape of a handprint. There was a cut right below his breast. A huge gash across his lower stomach and of course the holes in his stomach and arm.

That was all she could see, or all her mind would allow her to see.

She looked down at the bloody water and sighed she took the bowl and moved to the "Torture Room" and moved to the tin with the fire. She dumped the water on it, watching as the poker in there still sizzled and smoked.

She looked back at the sleeping Spike and walked toward him, she grabbed his blanket and covered him with it, the light blanket; she didn't want it irritating any of his wounds.

She looked at the pool of blood underneath where the chains hung and closed her eyes.

Then.

The questions came flooding to her.