Hey guys... I'm SO sorry for the lack of updates - I swear I am writing them... suffering I think from what they call 'writers block'... which is why I'm not happy with this chapter. It's not well written, and it's so frustrating that I can't get into the right mind frame to write well. But I thought it was unfair making you wait longer, so here it is. Only one more chapter to go, and then I'm planning to finish this one off. God knows I've got too many fics running at the moment. :-D enjoy!
Willow grinned and flung her arms around Wesley. "We did it!" then she realised what she was doing and stopped. "Sorry. I get excited when things work. Do you think Angel will agree to it?"
Wesley sighed. "No. But he's really got no choice has he."
"Poor Spike. I wish there was an easier way…" Fred's gentle nature thought out loud.
Then Angel came up from behind. "An easier way?" he echoed.
"Angel!" Fred jumped. "We were just saying that…"
Willow put a hand on Fred's shoulder to shush her, and then looked at Angel. "We've done it – we've written a spell that hopefully should bring Spike back to the way he was."
"Great – but what do you mean by an easier way?" Angel said, glancing at Wesley.
Willow took a breath. "It's painful, and lonely – Spike's gonna hate it."
Angel swallowed. "It's ok – I'll be there the whole time."
"Actually…" Wesley began, "You won't. Angel, the spell rests on finding security where there IS no security. In order to help Spike, we can't let him feel secure."
"But surely it doesn't matter if I'm there or not!" Angel protested lamely.
Fred rested a hand on his arm and spoke gently. "It's all linked to you, Angel. Spike's… problem is directly linked to you. That's why you can't be there."
Angel frowned. His voice was soft and deep. "Exactly how much is this going to hurt him?" Willow glanced at Wesley nervously. "Just tell me."
She swallowed, watching his face. "A lot," she confessed, "But it's the only way."
Angel nodded and turned round. "When can you do the spell?"
"Tonight, if we get the right equipment."
"And where do you want me to be?"
"As far away as possible," Wesley instructed. "Take Fred and Cordy out somewhere – we want as little people around as possible"
Angel simply nodded again and left through the front door. No use protesting. If he wanted Spike back the way he should be, this was the only option. Wesley and Willow left to get the necessary ingredients and implements, and Fred started to do some office work.
About ten to three, Angel strolled back in again with a box in one hand.
"What's that?" Fred asked.
"Video camera," Angel replied, not bothering to explain where he'd got it, why he'd got it or even how – considering it was the middle of the day.
Spike was bored. He'd done angry, sad, pathetic and upset so many times over the past few days they were starting to bore him. So now he was just bored. He spent most of the time sleeping, occasionally thinking about going downstairs to join people, but chickening out in the end. There wouldn't be much point anyway. Maybe if he made another den…
He was starting to feel better. If he pushed the bed against the wall… and the chest on top of the bed and the wardrobe the other side then he could hang the bed sheets over –
"BLOODYBLOODYBLOODYBLOODYBLOODYHELL!"
Angel was through the door in a heartbeat. "Spike!"
Spike was clutching his head with both hands. "OW! The bloody wardrobe fell on me!"
Angel began to laugh as he surveyed the room. "Spike? You were making another den weren't you?"
Spike scowled. "I'm in PAIN here, can't you see?"
"You shouldn't move heavy objects when you're blind! Are you ok?"
"Well I've got a bruise the size of Japan on my head but other than that I'm fine." Spike spat, finding his way back to the bed and pushing the chest off unceremoniously so that it crashed onto the floor and spilt half its contents all over the room.
Angel growled suddenly. "William! Behave!" he said with his most dangerous voice. "That wasn't necessary!" He saw Spike flinch, but disguise it. Then he left, and returned two minutes later with the video camera and began installing it into the wall. Spike didn't even notice, he was too busy huffing.
That evening, Willow and Wesley saw Angel, Cordy and Fred out of the door before going back upstairs.
Angel had compromised for not being there by setting up the video camera so that it was being transmitted to Caritas, where he and the girls would be watching what was going on in the room. Lorne had even shut down for the night for the sake of friendship.
Back in the Hotel, Wesley opened the door to Spike's room. Spike was lying on the bed facing the wall and jumped when Willow touched his shoulder.
"Spike? We're going to try and heal you now. It's a spell that we think will work… but it's going to be painful."
Spike hardly responded. "Where's Angelus?"
"He's not here," Willow said gently, glancing fleetingly at Wesley.
"Bastard," Spike muttered. "I knew he didn't care."
Wesley could see that Willow wanted to reply in reassurance that Angel had wanted to be there, but they couldn't afford that. He quickly took her out the room and whispered to her. "We have to be harsh, that's the only way. Think of it as acting the villain."
"But I can't act!" Willow said lamely, as Wesley ignored her and she trooped after him into the room.
Spike was now lying on his back and turned as they came back in. "Where do you want me?"
"On the bed," Wesley answered. "We need to tie you to it." His voice was stoney and unemotional.
Spike allowed them to tie his hands and feet to the bed – he wasn't sure how they did it because his hands were still at his sides, not above his head, so they must have something to tie them to at the sides of the bed. Then he waited.
In Caritas, Fred and Cordy watched Angel watch the screen. He was tense and when Cordy offered him a drink he almost snapped at her. "Come on Spike, you can do it," he was murmuring to himself.
Willow began the spell and all of a sudden Spike almost leapt out of the bed. "GAAAARRRGH!" he yelled, his body stiffening.
Angel gripped his seat. If it hadn't been so serious, Fred would've said he looked like someone at a suspenseful movie.
Then his body went limp and Spike almost spat at Willow. "What was that for?" He heard some muttering of words he didn't understand, and then it was as if the room completely disappeared.
The complete darkness Spike had been living in for the past week or so intensified and all sound was killed. This time there was no pain, but everything was completely and utterly empty. "Willow?" he called, and couldn't even hear his own voice. "Wesley! Angel?" Still there was no sound. Spike swallowed. He tried to scream, and although his voice and body seemed to be in perfect working order, there was no sound. He rolled onto his side as much as was possible considering the restraints, and tried to wait it out, but the more he did so, the creepier it became. "ANGEL!" he tried again, but still there was no sound. A small, icy, unpleasant feeling crept slowly into his stomach. It began to spread, sending a chill through his body. Spike felt as if something was inside him, taking him over with its terrifying shadow. As it gripped his heart, his eyes widened in fear and he tried to scream, but there was still no sound. By now he was almost paralysed with the paranoid horror that was seizing his body. Although there was nothing to be afraid of, nothing that should cause this kind of inexplicable reaction, the emotion he was experiencing was one of pure, undiluted dread.
"ANGEL!" he tried yelling at the top of his voice. He yelled and yelled but could hear nothing. Eventually the yells diminished into whimpers. He was terrified of being stuck in this place, of spending eternity with no sound, no light, no feeling. Just… nothing.
