Bright Lights

By: Peanutbutter

-bit more cursing in this chapter than usual, mostly it's Spike, when this Spike is angry he has quite the potty mouth

Chapter 8 'Tell me that you're real'

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            The response was immediate; Angel vamped and lunged for the Slayer's prone body.  He fell on top of her with a might growl and ripped the restraints from around the bedposts.  He hauled her up holding her by the neck her toes barely touching the bed.  She chocked and sputtered but her arms never made a move to stop him.  Spike watched, dumbstruck, this wasn't really what he'd expected.  He'd thought a bit of tears would have happened then the sickening hugging and kissing, before they'd even found out what she was.  Angel was nearly crazy with rage.  The blond girl's face was turning red and there were tears running down her cheeks, still she didn't struggle, in shock maybe, or unwilling to hurt him again. 

            "Are you going to do something?" Mika yelled her eyes wide with fear. 

            Spike glanced at her and back to the spectacle of Angel and Buffy, eternal lovers, forever and ever.  He snorted.  Crydon, hummed angrily at the display, but it did nothing to sway him.  If the two of them were going to duke it out, that was fine with him.  If the girl was dead he wouldn't have to deal with her.  It would have been more interesting if she'd fight back though. 

            "You sent me to hell, you fucking bitch!"  Angel screamed his face still vamped and he raised her higher effectively cutting off her air supply. 

            Spike stopped thinking it was amusing.  That face that voice, fuck not again and twice in two days.  Angelus was awake and pissed off.  The girl wasn't going to fight him off and he didn't want Angelus on the loose.  Letting out a cry, he lunged for the bigger vamp popping him in the jaw.  The brown haired vamp's grip on the girl loosened and her feet touched the bed.  Angel hit him again this time burying his fist in Angel's side.  He dropped her crouching sideways and clutching his stomach.   Buffy dropped to the bed coughing and crying, dark blue marks already making themselves known around the pale skin of her neck. 

            "You," Angel hissed turning his vamped face to Spike. 

            "Fuck," Spike mumbled and tried to block Angel's first punch, but he had been distracted and it hit him in the face flinging him threw the air.  He hit the table in the corner sending Mika's books and papers into the air.  The table cracked in half and Spike hit the ground.  Before he could get up Angel was on him again.  He blocked the first punch with his hand and managed to graze Angel's cheek with his other fist.  Before he could do much else Angel suddenly stopped his eyes rolling up for an instant before he rolled off of Spike. 

            Spike jumped to his feet, grabbed Angel's arms and put them behind his back.  "Snap out of it!"  He growled. 

            "I think I got him good," Mika whispered the remainder of Trenton's only other lamp in her hand.  "Maybe that got him back." 

            "Hope so," Spike knew Angel was still conscious but he was silent, probably just coming back to what he'd just done.  "How's the girl?" 

            "All right I guess, I don't think she can talk."  

            "Let me go, Spike."  Angel mumbled softly. 

            "What you gonna say to convince me?" 

            "Angel," the voice was weak, scratchy nearly inaudible.  "Angel, I'm sorry, I didn't want to I had to, please." 

            "Dammit," Spike cursed when he heard the sounds of Angel's response.  He let go of Angel's hands only to let the man fall to the floor.  This was something he'd been hoping to avoid.  This did nothing but complicate things. 

            Angel got to his feet his eyes falling on the girl he'd nearly choked to death.  He look shattered, too shattered for tears.  Angel's eyes never left her, the way she crawled toward him tears pouring from her green eyes, she pleaded and begged forgiveness, convinced she'd committed the sin, that she deserved the punishment.  Spike turned away from her Angel was, somehow, easier to watch. 

            "Buffy?" he asked voice somewhat calm. 

            "Angel, please I thought, I thought you were…" 

            Angel backed away his shoulders hitting the doorframe in his haste to get away from her.  "I can't do this," he whispered shaking his head and then he was gone. 

            Spike cursed and followed him out the door.  "Mika," he barked over his shoulder, "keep the girl here, don't let her do anything!"

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            Angel felt sick.  It was more than a hangover, the blood he'd consumed this morning turned to a block of ice in his gut threatening to run its way up his throat.  He gagged as he rounded a corner afraid that he was actually going to do it, he stopped.  His hand clutched his stomach and he closed his eyes breathing heavily hoping that the feeling would pass, it didn't.  It only got worse as what he had just seen, what he had just done washed over him. 

            He remembered seeing her, a flash of golden hair and her blazing hazel eyes.  Her voice had made him freeze.  Then he'd seen her, the way he remembered, Buffy in all her glory.  She'd been gone so long, but he'd never forgotten her, not the curve of her jaw, or smooth texture of her skin.  Then there had been nothing, nothing until Spike was pinning his arms to his back and cursing.  His next image of her was more than he could handle, crawling on the floor, broken, blue bruises adorning his throat.  She called his name and he saw her dangling from his tightening grasp as what he had done came back to him quickly.

            Angel gagged again, but this time the blood rushed up this throat, burning as it resurfaced.  It coated his teeth and tongue in a foul taste of old congealed blood.  It splashed onto the floor, covering the tops of his black shoes and spotting his trousers.  His hand flew to the wall to support him, but apparently he wasn't finished yet the next round wasn't nearly as vibrant, mixed with the remaining alcohol in his system, it was slightly pink. 

            "That's just disgusting."

            Angel took a breath the smell of the vomited blood making his eyes tear.  He didn't need this, not right now.  "Go away." 

            "Wish I could, but alas I can't." 

            Angel turned away from the wall his legs feeling shaky.  He stepped over his puddle and leaned against the opposite wall.  He let his head fall between his knees as he tried to gain some control. 

            "Listen, mate, I know this is a bit of a shocker I was tryin' to keep her away from you, until I figured out who she was."  He paused.  "Obviously that didn't work." 

            "I did it again."  Angel whispered he'd become Angelus and this time he'd been nearly as bad as Molly. 

Spike was silent and Angel knew he was thinking the same thing.  Angel looked up finally catching Spike's eyes.  "What's going on?"

            Spike snorted, "I'd be happy to know." 

            "That's Buffy," Angel breathed, her name feeling foreign on his tongue.  It'd been decades since he'd uttered it.  

            "Still up for debate," Spike answered. 

            "I know it's her."

            "No you don't, you want it to be though.  That's exactly why I didn't want you to find out.  When it comes to her you never could think straight.  Falling in love with a Slayer, soul, or not, what the hell were you thinkin'?" 

            "No, I know her."  Angel whispered, "I touched her, I watched, I tasted her, I know her Spike, and God I can still smell…" he trailed off into silence.  "Where'd she come from?" 

            "Trenton found her fighting some Farlocs in the middle of town.  She was pretty beaten up and she passed out.  He brought her here, wanker, she could be anybody, anything.  She could be here to bring all of us down."     

            Angel looked down the hall, past Spike and his annoyed expression and defensive stance, to the hall where Buffy was, or maybe Spike was right and it was just some form of her.  "I couldn't control it.  He came out and all I could do, I didn't, I didn't even know what I was doing." 

            "Yeah, figured, or at least when you yelled at her about sending you to hell.  I knew you didn't blame her for that, at least Angel didn't.  Why do you think Angelus has a tendency to remember every little thing you do, but you, Angel, have such a problem recalling his actions?" 

            Angel was silent he'd never known the answer to that question.  "You're entirely too calm about the entire situation." 

            "I figured you're being enough of a pansy for the both of us." Spike retorted.  "Besides I already had my freak out.  We're going to give her some sort of spell, see what she's about." 

            "Do it."

            "Don't be such a bossy bastard, we were getting' to it."

            Angel didn't have enough energy to say anything back.  He felt empty, lost, and still sick, like there was yet something else trying to work its way out.  Thought all of it the most disturbing thing was Sesa, she was silent, not one hum or vibration.  She'd been silent all day.  The sickness welled inside him again as he thought of her song and how it'd calmed his nerves in the past.  Maybe he'd finally silenced her, driven away with the evil half of him that still dwelled.  Silently, he pulled her out of her sheath to settle across his lap.  Her glow was dim.  He could barely catch a twinge of her green aura surrounding the sharp blade. 

            "Listen, let me take you back to your cabin, right, get some rest, forget 'bout this for a while." 

            Spike, trying to be nice, Angel smiled feeling the urge to laugh.  His fingers coasted over the cold metal dispelling the aura where he touched, making the color flare outward.  Silent, and cold, Sesa was dead to him right now. 

            "I'm sorry."  Angel could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth.  He waited for a response but there was none, and Sesa grew dimmer, his despair thicker.  Just when he thought Spike had left a hand wrapped around his bicep pulling his hand away from the cold blade.  He followed the pull as it yanked him to his unsteady feet.  Sesa fell to his side still gripped in his left hand, still silent. 

            "Come on, mate, lets get to bed, a bit of rest might do you good." 

            Angel followed Spike's pull never letting his eyes leave the silent sword.  Was this how it was to end, his weapon silent, the fight gone from him, and a shadow posing as his love standing over him with a stake?  Worse yet him shifting threw the blood and carnage he barely remembers committing, a dead Sesa beside him, alone, forever.

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            Spike needed a drink, or a fight, or a bloody fucking smoke, but he wasn't going to get any of that at the moment.  When he'd signed up for this whole gig he didn't think he'd be babysitting the humans, and the soulful puppy.  Dammit this was not something he'd ever wanted to do.  He wanted to stop the fucking apocalypse and go the fuck home.  Spike snarled and slammed his fist in the wall making a huge dent in the metal.  His entire arm hummed from the impact but he ignored it. 

            Angel was a mess, holding that sword to him like an anchor.  Spike didn't know what to do about it.  He knew keeping the brooding vamp away from Buffy was going to be next to impossible.  Not only would the poof want to see her again, possibly going all Angelus, but the girl would want to see him too.  He needed to find out once and for all who she was.  If she was evil he'd kill her himself, damn the consequences.

            Spike shoved his way through the door to Trenton's room.  He ignored the crying.  He smelled her anguish, the salty scent of her tears, but he didn't let it distract him. 

            "Mika," he snarled, "get that spell ready." 

            "Spike, I don't think…"

            "Don' think," he growled, "just do it.  We don' have time to wait around any longer."

            He watched Mika get to her feet settling the crying girl on the bed.  Buffy looked broken, perhaps worse than Angel was.  He really didn't want to deal with any of this.  Spike went to her hauling her up by the arms.  To his surprise she pulled away from him. 

            "Don't touch me."  She whispered vehemently. 

            "Then sit yourself up!" Spike spat back, slinging her arm out of his reach in disgust.  She watched as she wiped her eyes and slowly rose to her feet.  Her neck was nearly black with bruises.  "Now!"  Spike snarled. 

            "Right, Um," Mika held a volume in her hands, "but she has to stand still." 

            "I'm no standing for anything," Buffy spat her voice sounding strong despite her injury.  "I'm sick of these games, not knowing what going on, I'm getting out of here." 

            "You're bloody well not," Spike argued and lunged for her.  Thankfully she was still weak and her reaction time was slow he his arms around her shoulders pinning her arms to her sides.  She tried to kick him but he fell onto the bed and wrapped his calves around her legs to hold the struggling girl in place. 

            "Do it!" He screamed over her yells of protest. 

            "Spike, I don't think, I mean you're not supposed to be there…"  Mika trailed off. 

            "Just do it, kitten," Spike tried soothingly, "It'll be alright." 

            Mika seemed to calm at the nickname and nodded.  She turned to the spell and began to chant.  After the first few words a bright crackling purple energy raced around the two forms.  Buffy was no longer yelling, but still trying to break free.  Spike swallowed wandering if it had been such a brilliant idea after all.  It was too late to reconsider.  The sparking purple electricity popped in his ears making him wince.  It grew wider surrounding the both of them completely.  Then Crydon started to sing.  It was loud, and anything but comforting.  The pitch of his song was nearly painful as he wailed in and out of high decibels.  His body began to shake and the Slayer wrapped in his arms shook with him.  He should have taken the bloody sword off. 

The song grew higher making him wince.  He wanted to let go of her, but his muscles were locked.  The Energy washing over him racing through his skin making him twitch and jerk.  "Oh shit," he cursed as a bright yellow light rushed at him from across the room, blanking Mika out of existence.  It was black and for a horrifying second he thought he'd been blinded. 

"Angel?"

Spike turned his head to pick up the location of the voice.  It was Buffy, but when had Angel gotten back.  The words were muffled but the feeling he received her not.  They washed over him making his chest twist in anguish; his knees buckled making him drop to the floor, sorrow, love, pain, guilt, anger, everyone of them too strong for him to take.  He gasped as if to catch a breath and even though he knew he didn't need to breath he was seized with panic when he could draw none.  Images flashed across his brain followed by violent emotion. 

Buffy, sword in hand, stood over a confused Angel, both of them crying.  Behind them a vortex whirled to life.  Pain as the sword ripped through her lover's chest and he was pulled into the depths of hell, no longer Angelus. 

'I can't breathe' Spike thought his hand going to his throat trying to push the air into his lungs.  'I need to breathe.'

Short pink waitress uniform with grease smudges on the apron.  A hand grabbing for her, empty numb.  A portal, hell.  Buffy hits the ground surrounded by demons with sharp teeth and electric clubs. 

Spike jerked his body convulsing.  He was going to die from lack of oxygen, the only vampire you need air to live. 

Splattered in blood she fights off the last demon and jumps back through, barely over a day since she's left L.A.  Buffy awakes surrounded by destruction, confused she wanders. 

This was it, Spike knew it, he closed his eyes the fight gone he'd suffocated.

            "Spike, Spike!  Spike wake up, Spike!" 

            Spike jerked his eyes flying open.  He was back in Trenton's room, Buffy; no longer struggling was still locked in his tight embrace.  Immediately he took a breath, air filled his lungs expanding his chest, the girl in his arms stirred. 

            "Are you all right?" Mika was leaning over him her eyes wide with fear tear brimming just near the surface.  "I don't know what happened.  I thought I'd killed you."  She chocked. 

            Spike could say nothing, he just breathed, thankful that he could do it.  Crydon was vibrating happily at his side, so different from the piercing song he'd been playing earlier.  Buffy was breathing too, her breaths matching his.  He was soothed by the rising and falling of her chest, by the steady beat of her heart.  He shut his eyes just listening. 

            "Spike?" 

            Spike opened his eyes looking to the witch girl again.  He couldn't speak. 

            "Spike, what happened?" 

            It rushed over him in an instant, everything he'd seen, everything he'd felt.  He opened his arms the girl sliding from his grasp to the floor.  He'd seen it, all of it.  Why she was here, where he'd been, she was the real Buffy, shit.  He looked from Mika to Buffy and backed away from the blond, all of it was too much. 

            "Spike," Buffy whispered, speaking for the first time, "I'm sorry about Molly."   

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Trenton woke to the crackling flames and the disturbing cricket chirping in his ears.  He was cold.  He shivered, trying to remember exactly what had happened, why his shoulder was pounding, and his body was shaking.  Zarah appeared over him her face half cast in shadow, an orange glow tinting her cheeks.  She didn't smile, but frowned.  She grabbed the blanket that had apparently pooled around his feet and pulled it over his body.  No wonder he was cold. 

            "Awake," she whispered looking him over for a moment. 

            Trenton opened his mouth, it hurt, his throat dry and scratchy.  He coughed feeling as if the dry skin was cracking and peeling.  He couldn't stop the more he coughed the more it hurt, but the more he had to.  A cup was pushed to his lips and he nearly cried at the glorious taste of water as it slid down his throat soothing him immediately.  He drank blindly finishing the cup full.  When she pulled it away he nodded at her. 

            "More." 

            Zarah grinned and disappeared from his view for an instant before reappearing with a nearly full cup.  She pressed it to his mouth again and drank deeply draining the cup in seconds.  This time he felt sated though his arm was till throbbing and he couldn't move it. 

            "What happened?" He whispered suddenly cold again. 

            "Demon," Zarah answered and scooted closer kneeling next to his head petting his hair.  "I killed it." 

            Trenton closed his eyes trying to remember, but everything was jumbled.  He remembered something, a sword.  His good arm went shot out grabbing at his side.  Isa was there, humming under his fingers, asking if he was all right.  He relaxed remembering the rest in a wave, the hopeless fight and his rescue.  The drop was tomorrow, he should be preparing, but it was so hard to think, to stay awake.  Slowly even though he didn't want to he slipped back into unconsciousness.  

Okay sorry about the little delay.  I wanted to get this out Tues. but, alas, it wasn't meant to be, so here it is.