Title: If I should die before we wake

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or situations, or concepts, or anything, really.

Summary: After the events described in Deconstructing Hell, Spike, Andrew and Dana are menaced by a shadowy threat to Spike's life. You should read DH first.

Rating: T, because Spike is violent, rude, crude, and the bad guys are worse. Well, that's a lie. The bad guys are never worse than Spike.

Chapter 11: Fighting shadows

--

"There's not a lot of leeway here," noted Andrew, watching the robots enter the base. "I mean, you hurt a Slayer or a soldier, and all bets are off."

His companion, a middle-aged dark-haired witch, grimaced. "Yeah, we caught that." She glanced at the soldiers who were retreating, not firing a single shot. "You know, I'm a little insulted at their retreat."

"They think we brought Slayers, and they don't want any friendly fire," replied Andrew.

A Slayer came running down the stairs in front of him. "I have them holed up!" she shouted.

"What are you doing here?" asked Andrew, feeling his stomach drop out from under him.

"I'm the liaison to the army," she replied. "Miss Summers told me to contain them if they showed up, and I did that, although the soldiers aren't helping at all."

Andrew sighed. "Well, nothing to it, then." He jogged up the stairs, the witch and Slayer following closely.

Spike was lounging in a battered doorway, leaning against the wall and playing with a lighter. "Andrew. Should have known you'd find us. Taught you to be devious, I did."

"Actually, Harmony out and out told me," replied Andrew. "Gotta work on that."

Harmony, who was hiding under the table behind Spike, gave an indignant squeak.

"Witches, robots… those aren't Slayers," said Spike, taking a deep breath. "Have you been doing some side-street work?"

"Say rather some important classified work," replied Andrew. "These guys are part of one of those new powers that rose up to fill the voids you've created."

"Basically, evil," said Spike. "The robot blokes look familiar. Didn't they attack Wolfram and Hart once?"

"Overstretching, perhaps," grumbled the witch behind Andrew. "Shall I take him down?"

"Um, no," said Andrew. "Not unless things go badly. Spike, I have you outnumbered and outgunned. And I have a Slayer." He really wished he didn't. It complicated a simple equation. "Let me bring you in. We can all figure it out together."

Spike smiled grumpily. "Now that is just brilliant. But I'm afraid I can't, because you're a bloody fool, and so are all the people you work for."

"You're just dancing in the dark now!" yelled Andrew. "You have no idea who you're fighting, or why!"

"His name is Boris," said Connor, striding forward through the doorway with a determined look on his face. "He first became a player in the late eighteen hundreds. He's organized an army of vampires to wipe the Slayers from the face of the earth. Do you know what else? I think he may be in bed with the people you just brought in here."

The witch behind Andrew shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, we're completely independent. And we do good things."

Spike grinned, a happy grin. "I do believe you're right."

"What?" said the witch.

"He spoke to me," said Illyria, a hiss, joining Connor. "This is the intended outcome that Boris sought. This is what his entire aim was. Do not think for a second that he is surprised if we turn on each other."

"I'm not turning on you," said Andrew. "I believe you. I know it's not you. Your vampires are all chipped, and the ones that attacked our safe house weren't."

"Poor logic," said Spike. "The chips come with on-off switches and remotes."

"What?" said Harmony, standing up so suddenly the furniture went flying.

Spike grimaced. "See, the government knows that it has a lot of human enemies too. They're ready for the day they have to turn the vamps loose on humans. So you're a step behind, Andy."

Andrew stared at him. "What about the shadow-men in the vision?"

"It could be the government, Riley et al."

"What about the society of the Blade? The secret society dedicated to wiping out evil that you were trying to join?"

Spike glanced to Connor. Connor shrugged. "Andrew, that… has nothing to do with this. Those guys were a bunch of nerds who loved their secret passwords and thought they could end evil by accumulating money and greasing a few palms."

"What about the guy you've tracked down? You have proof, right?"

"We have the word of a dead dead person," said Spike, grinning. "Inn't that right?"

Connor nodded. "Spike banished her soul to oblivion."

Andrew could feel his feet teetering on an edge. "So you have no proof at all you're on our side."

Illyria sneered at him. "Andrew, you amuse me occasionally. Right now you irritate me."

Spike shook his head. "No needling."

"What?" She turned around to face him, putting her fists on her hips. "Did you seriously just tell me to play nice with him?"

Dana inched out behind Spike, watching Andrew carefully.

"Andrew may be on the other side, but he's a friend," said Spike firmly. "And now he's going to call off his hired dogs before any of them get hurt."

"Screw this!" muttered the Slayer behind Connor, moving forward quickly, gracefully.

Illyria whirled, her body shifting. Her street clothes became leather armor, her hair turned blue, and her face began to mottle.

"Do not approach us!" she growled. "I will teach you pain and destruction!"

The Slayer jumped forward, slamming into Illyria and sending her flying. She whirled as she hit the ground, taking Connor off his feet and heading for Spike, trying to get to him while his allies were down.

"No!" yelled Andrew. He knew what she hadn't stopped to think about, that Spike was the most dangerous of the three, and that attacking him alone was too dangerous in itself.

But he was too late. Dana had darted forward, backhanding the other Slayer, who staggered back, staring at her sister Slayer.

"Sorry," said Dana.

Spike moved then, grabbing Dana from behind, wrapping both arms around her waist and lifting her up, pulling her back away. "No!" he growled, his voice low. "That bit about not hitting Slayers? Applies double to you!"

Dana set her feet and pushed, knocking them both into the wall and getting free of Spike. "Don't grab me!" she said urgently, stepping away from him.

The other Slayer took that opportunity to dart forward, aimed at Spike. Unfortunately, her timing could have been better. Connor was back up now, and he swept her feet out from under her with a low spinning kick.

"You stay down!" he warned her. "In case you hadn't noticed you don't have any allies here. Spike doesn't want to hurt you, but don't think that'll stop all of us!"

"Hey!" roared Spike.

Andrew stepped forward, bringing the gun out of the holster. He'd hoped it wouldn't come down to this. "Step back from her!" he snapped.

He saw Dana hesitate and reach inside her flannel jacket for a second, and he wondered if she was seriously thinking about drawing a weapon on him. It was a scary thought.

"Don't do anything stupid," said a quiet voice from behind Spike. Riley stepped out, his hands empty. "We can all just walk away."

"I have to take Spike with me," said Andrew.

"Can't," said Dana.

"Will," corrected Andrew.

She stepped in front of Spike smoothly, quickly. Spike grabbed her shoulders and spun her so that he was in front of her. "Don't do that again," he said seriously, his voice strained.

"He wouldn't shoot me," said Dana.

"You don't know!" shouted Spike. "I've seen reasonable men do worse. I've seen men become monsters from fear, or hate, or for revenge. He looks like the man you know, but you can't trust that."

Harmony approached slowly. "Hey, everybody. Can I ask a question?" She vamped out quickly. "Is the chip on?"

"No," said Riley quietly, stepping back. "Here it is, folks; my vampires… Spike's vampires," he amended, as Harmony shot him a look. "Spike's vampires want him safe. To that end we've given them full reign to keep him safe."

"Turn it back on," said Spike. "That's a Slayer there. You know my rule."

"Your rules don't matter, right now," replied Riley. "They have invaded my base. They have compromised security. They have threatened my allies."

Andrew lowered the gun. "We're leaving," he said coldly.

Spike waited till the Slayer had got up and limped after Andrew, shooting him a dirty look, before speaking. "The chip was on?"

"Of course," said Riley. "I'm not attacking a Slayer for you. Okay, what's the plan?"

Spike shoved Riley suddenly, hard. "And no threatening Slayers!" he yelled. "One simple rule! Do you have to break it so flagrantly?"

"It was a bluff," said Riley, backing up a little.

Connor leaned against the wall. "All right, Riley, here's the plan. We're going to go get this Boris to come out into the open. We know he must have been somewhere near the safehouse that got hit, so we go there first. We use Spike to bring him out into the open."

"No," said Dana. "We're not using Spike that way."

"All right, you guys sort out the plan, I'll sort this out," said Spike, walking away, still holding Dana's arm.

She let him drag her through a hallway and into a side office. He slammed the door behind them, staring down at the floor as if it was suddenly interesting.

"How do you plan to sort me out?" she asked curiously.

"I was planning on sorting myself out, actually," he replied. He turned his back to her, sighing. His shoulders slumped very dramatically, and she wondered if he had practiced that.

She just waited. If he was being dramatic then he probably had something important to say, as scary as that thought was. If it was important, that usually meant it would hurt.

"I spend a lot of time trying to in control," said Spike. "It's scary when I'm not in control. People get hurt. People die. I promised myself a long time ago that I'd protect someone very close to me… and I failed."

"I don't need protecting. I'm a Slayer," said Dana.

"So was she. Not the point. Anyway, I've lost more people since then. Some of them very, very special people. You know Illyria? When she was born into this world she sucked the life out of a girl who never did anything but good. Who did the right thing, even for a monster she knew was callous and manipulative."

"Who?"

"Me. Again, not the point."

"What is the point?"

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"But I don't want you to get hurt."

Spike turned around to stare at her, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I've already had this argument with Connor and with Illyria, and I won both of those. You know why? Because I've died three or four times now. I'm like a bad penny. I keep turning up, and up, and up."

"Maybe the fifth time's the charm. Can't we both not die?"

"Maybe. That's plan A, anyway. But the single most overriding concern I have is keeping you lot safe. Okay? I know you're having trouble with the concept, but if you can't accept it, then I have to leave you behind to protect you."

Her jaw dropped. "You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can. I'm fairly ruthless about protecting you guys. Okay?"

She glowered at him. She didn't like having no choice in the matter, being pushed into doing what he wanted. Especially when what he wanted was so counter to what she wanted. He wanted her to stand by while he was in danger? She wouldn't do that.

"Fine," she said, lying through her teeth.

He grabbed her arm, just below the shoulder, and she gasped, trying to back away. He was staring into her eyes, and she could see that he knew she was lying. She wasn't sure how he knew it.

She didn't like that.

"I can't do this," muttered Spike. "I can't fight them and you. It's too hard."

"Then don't fight me," she replied. She was getting better at repartee, and it was his own fault for teaching her. He still gave her a dirty look.

"How about we do it the other way around, kid? Why don't you not fight me?"

"Because I'm right and you're wrong."

He closed the distance between them, stepping closer. "Don't fight me, pet. That's a recipe for disaster."

It had been a while since the kiss in the kitchen, and Dana wasn't even sure what that meant any more. She was sure how she felt about it, though, and about the distance between them.

She leaned forward, closer to him. He pulled back, his face suddenly panicked. "Hey! We're arguing here!" he said, trying to step back. He tripped over his own feet and fell to the floor.

She stopped, frowning. "Is something wrong with my lips?"

He struggled back to his feet, flailing. "What? No! I'm just… don't sneak up on me!"

"I'm standing in front of you."

"I mean, we were arguing! You can't…" He trailed off, frowning. "Well, I guess you can. But it's too much like old times."

This time he didn't flinch away when she leaned in. She couldn't quite bring herself to go the last quarter inch, and hovered just a heartbeat away from the kiss, staring into his eyes.

He tilted his head at her. "Any good relationship is a meeting of equals. Do you think that's what this is?" She could feel his warm breath tickling her chin as he spoke.

"I don't know. I'm crazy, remember?"

He frowned. "That's what I'm trying to get at, fruit loop."

"I always felt like you took me seriously," she said. "And you always explain things to me so I can understand. That's all I know."

He sighed, folding one arm around her waist. She moved into his embrace, lowering her head down onto his shoulder. Her heart was racing so hard she felt like it would explode.

"I try to have the answers, but more and more lately, I don't," he said. She didn't like it when he was miserable, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly, squeezing him. She hoped it wasn't too hard.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," he said. "I mean, I don't think I'm a sexist ogre for wanting you safe." He put a hand on her shoulder and moved back so he could look her in the eye again. "I mean, it's hard for me to say it, but you really have gotten to me in the last few months. There was a long time in my life where I thought I could never love again… that I had loved so hard I'd burned myself out. But you proved me wrong. You're …"

Connor burst into the room. "We have a problem!" he yelled. Then he stopped. "Well, okay, two problems."

Illyria swept in behind Connor. "I told you not to disturb them!" she hissed, grabbing Connor and hurling him backwards through the door. "Take your time." She started to retreat.

"What problem?"

"Slayers under attack," said Illyria shortly. "But it's already over. A few more minutes won't change anything. Let the emotional constipation out, William."

Spike let go of Dana with a sigh. She didn't let go of him.

--

The Slayer safe house was sitting on the outskirts of Boston, an older building with a high fence to protect the girls from the spying eyes of the neighbors while they sparred in the backyard.

Spike swept into the building, flanked by soldiers. He could hear Illyria entering on the roof, more soldiers with her, and Connor entering from the back. Dana was behind Spike, and he wondered if she felt as sick as he did.

He could hear somebody dragging themselves down the hall, and he swooped into the hall. Instead of a vampire he found a Slayer, her back torn open and blood flowing freely.

She looked back up over her shoulder and let out a shriek, trying to hurry up and make it to the wall, where there were weapons.

"It's all right," said Spike roughly, cutting her off. "I'm not the other… I'm me… I'm not going to hurt you. Get a medic in here!"

Dana followed Spike and crouched by her fellow Slayer, watching Spike try his best to bind her wounds. "How'd you survive?" Spike asked gruffly. "Hid from them?"

"Played possum," groaned the Slayer. "Slowed my heartbeat down… meditated. What the hell is going on? One minute you're chopping us down, the next you're binding our wounds?"

"There's two of me," he said grimly. "And as you saw, he's not the nicest fellow. Dana, put some pressure on, right there."

Dana gave a little jump, moving in to put the pressure on. "You called me by my name. Is she dying?"

Spike chuckled. "Ever the charmer."

"You only call people by their name when it's important!"

"Well, it is. But she's not dying."

"Thanks," grumbled the fallen Slayer.

A soldier came running up. "There's eight bodies so far. Connor tracked some more of the girls across the street. They were holed up and fighting off a few straggling vampires. Connor dusted most of them, but he kept one alive."

Spike grinned. "And that's mistake number one for the bad guys," he said, rising. "Get a medic in here, will you?"

"Already on his way," the soldier assured him.

--

Deep inside, Illyria knew that he'd already made his decision. As she stared down at the body of a fourteen-year-old Slayer, she fought to keep tears from falling down her face.

She wasn't sure who she was crying for any more. What had happened to the girl was tragic. What was about to happen was equally as tragic.

Worse, her will to fight Spike in this was gone. Before she'd walked into this house of death and pain she had been prepared to go toe to toe with Spike to prevent him from risking himself.

You and Dana both…

The crazed Slayer would not like this.

You and Connor can bloody well handle her. But be careful.

Illyria didn't want this. She didn't want to take the hard way, didn't want to do this. But empty eyes gazed up at her from a face that had been full of life and vitality, a warrior who had been attacked by superior numbers and an enemy who had been given unnatural strengths.

At one time Illyria would have reveled in the destruction. But her link to Spike lent her a humanity that she found difficult to shake off.

And she could help the tears.