Vengeance

by Callace

Season seven, shortly after Lies My Parents Told Me. After each their failed attempt, Wood and the First team up to take Spike down. Meanwhile, Angel comes to town, to help stop the coming apocalypse. BtVS/AtS crossover. ABS. Though clearly Spuffy-centric, we've tried to do justice to the BA - relationship too, as well as the complicated frienmity between Spike and Angel

5. Like it or not, we're family

Chapter 5 Like it or not, we're family

After making their way outside, Buffy walked along the silent night road with Angel only few paces behind her. The night looked peaceful, but it was deceiving. There was nothing peaceful about this night or any other for that matter. She could stand here, she could let it overwhelm her, or she could take control of the situation. She figured she would wind up doing a little of both. Action was the name of the game, and it was something that she had always been very good at doing. The only problem was, she didn't know what action to take at this point, and it was enough to drive her to tears.

No Spike.

That's why she had gone there in the first place. It was him that she had expected to find down there, but she had turned up empty. Well, not completely empty. She had found the toy surprise at the bottom of the cereal box, and this was clearly not something that Caleb had wanted her to have. Even so, it was the vampire pest that she had come to really find to be a friend, possibly more, that she had wanted to leave here with. Ideally, she'd do it with one arm around him, supporting him if need be. The darker scenario would be a pile of dust that she'd take to the safety of her home. It was one that she didn't like to think about, but at least he'd be home, with her, where he belonged.

"So, what's on your mind?"

Buffy jumped at the sound of Angel's voice breaking through her thoughts. "What?"

"You said there was something that you needed to talk to me about. Not First related."

"Right." Buffy looked down for a minute before glancing up into his eyes. Those eyes that always used to drive her crazy. She felt the old rush of affection in her flowing towards him. It would probably always be there, but no, now was absolutely not the time for that! She had something else to focus on now. A very important mission to work on, saving a very dear friend in very dire trouble. Plan rescue mission for Spike now, bask in Angel's eyes later… At some point when Spike would never learn about it! She focused her gaze at his nose instead, trying to calm herself. "It's not completely unfirst related. It's not about battle tactics, my usual war speeches that I find myself giving on a daily basis."

"So, what is it?" Angel looked at her with a bit of concern; picking up on her uneasiness.

"It's Spike…" Buffy saw Angel's body tense immediately and his mouth open ready to spit out venomous words. She quickly held up a hand interjecting. "Before you say anything, let me finish. Things are different with him. He's different. He has a soul now."

"Oh. Well." Was all Angel could get out.

Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

Angel shook his head. "No, no, that's great." He then mumbled under his breath. "Everybody's got a soul now."

Buffy fixed her eyes on him a bit more. "What? Are you pissed?"

"No, it's great. One for our side."

"He'll make a difference."

Angel spoke, but more so to himself than he did to her. "You know, I started it." He looked at her now, deciding that he wanted her to be in on his conclusion. "The whole…having a soul. Before it was all the "cool new thing…"

"Oh my God, are you twelve?" She shook it off before pressing on. They didn't have time for this. Spike, if he happened to still be alive, didn't have time for this. "He's in trouble."

That got Angel to back down. "What do you mean he's in trouble?"

Buffy was surprised to see the look of concern on his face. She figured that it would possibly grab his attention, but actual concern was not something that she had been counting on. Even so, she'd gladly use it to her advantage. "The First took him. I don't know where. "

"What does it want him for?" Angel practically growled the question out. Spike and he weren't exactly close. They weren't each other's favorite people, in fact, if you put them in the same room together, it took all of their self-control not to try and shove a stake through one another. Yet, the grand-sire in him was suddenly screaming for the blood of Spike's capturer. In that moment, petty jealousy over a soul, their history, none of it mattered. The only thing that was of importance to him in that moment was getting Spike out of wherever he was in one piece, and punishing the thing that had hurt him. He was still family after all.

"Then I say, let's find him." Angel started to take off, clearly not wasting any time.

Buffy hurried after him. She was all for finding Spike, but she didn't see how he could plausibly be able to do that right on the spot of hearing about his disappearance. Perhaps it was passion that was driving him, which again, was strange to see Angel have for Spike, but she knew she wasn't going to be able to come up with any other explanation. "Angel, my big lead on where he could be ended here. I have no idea where to look next."

"If I didn't have my nose that would be a problem."

"Your nose?" Buffy looked at him curiously.

"His scent. I remember it pretty well. It's not around here. He's been nowhere near this place. We'll have to keep walking until I can pick something up from him. I'll track it from there."

Right, heightened sense of smell. That was an ability of theirs that Buffy found to be less impressive and just down right icky. "You vampires…did anybody ever tell you that the whole smelling people thing's a little gross?"

Angel looked over his shoulder at her in annoyance, but carried on walking. "Gross or not. It's what's going to get him out of this mess."

Wood opened the door to his captive's prison, and entered the room. The sweet events of the last time he had been down here still rang fresh in his mind. The cracking of bones, the splatter of blood, it had been gory, but all worth it. He had started to believe that stubborn vampire would never break. It had taken so long, demanded so much effort. But then, finally, he had been able to bring shameless wails and whimpers out of that wretched thing's throat. Naked terror was finally present in the monster's face, unshielded by his usual cocky attitude. And the screams! When he closed his eyes, he could still hear the screams. Loud and shrill and agonized. Such a pity he had robbed himself of the chance to achieve that again. For a while anyhow. Vampires heal...

He looked down on the, by now even literally, filthy creature on his table, and admired his handiwork. The jagged scars from the holy water soaked whip still somewhat visible all over his face and body. Bruises up his legs, a big bloody mess of torn skin and broken ribs at his roughly stitched up midsection. Arms ending in utterly meshed up hands, with fragments of bone bulging against the stretched skin around the wrists, and fingers bent at odd angles. He remembered when he'd broken those hands. He remembered Spike's scrambling against the table, and all the more his steadfast breathing. In and out, in and out, rapid, shallow breaths, steadying into deep heaving ones, as the vampire worked on getting the pain he was inflicting on him under control. Wood subconsciously started listening for those breaths, even now. He turned his head and looked up into Spike's face. Pale, hollowed cheeks, stretched tight along a jaw that was no longer moving with the intake of air. A nose that was absolutely still, not quivering with the scents of the air, like normally, when Wood entered the room after a while's absence. And those eyes. Glazed, faded, looking emptily out in the room, at nothing at all. He suddenly felt a sick little lurch in his stomach. Stood still and listened again. There were no breaths.

He knew he'd wanted it, when he last was down here, a couple of days ago. Knew he'd been looking forward to coming back, to see how the vampire handled his punishment now when he couldn't breathe. But now when Spike's breaths were gone, it felt wrong somehow. It was too quiet down here without. He remembered how often their breaths had come out as one, how they, at least without any planning on his part, had found the same rhythm of it. He suddenly became very much aware of his own breaths. Too shallow, too quick, like he was trying to compensate for the lack of breathing noises from his enemy. He started feeling dizzy. Wondered if Spike had felt that way, when he breathed wrongly. Of course not! Vampires don't need oxygen, so they shouldn't feel faint from hyperventilation either. Although, right now, he honestly didn't look much like a vampire. No breath, no movement, pale beyond even his common vampiric standards. The glazed empty eyes really clinched it: This was not the vibrant, active, energetic vampire he had gotten to know. This was a corpse. A very battered, clearly dead corpse. "You're looking for revenge on a man that doesn't exist anymore". Maybe Buffy was finally right in that now, he mused eerily to himself. That corpse didn't seem to have anything more left in it. It looked like one the eternal soul had left. What an irony, considering this vampire, unlike mostly all of them, actually had one, residing in there. What did that mean, exactly? Ah, quit the crap! It didn't mean anything. The monster was still there, right? It may have fooled Buffy, but certainly not him. He looked down on the cross in his hand, and nodded. This symbol still burned the so called souled man this demon had turned into, right? Clearly, he was still an abomination, hated even by God.

As if to prove his own theory, he jabbed the cross into the nearest patch of skin he could find, on Spike's shoulder. It sizzled and burned nicely, but after a while... it felt empty. Ungratifying. Especially after the victorious evening he had here last time he came. He laid back his head as the memories of Spike's screams and whimpers came again, and smiled. And ached. They had been so shrill. So agonized. Maybe his mission was complete now? Maybe the vampire who took his mother away had finally gotten the required payback? Perhaps this was the right time for the main staking event?

He reached into his pocket and took it out. The short wooden stake. Held it in his hand. Tried to straighten out the mess in his mind. It was over now. It had to be. It was not fun anymore, and that meant it had come to a natural end. But if he only waited a bit longer, gave Spike's lungs time to heal... He could get screams again! Somehow the notion made him sick, rather than excited. He looked over at the vampire at the table, and noticed that he had gotten into another fit of trembling. That had been mighty unpleasant while he had been trying to stitch him up after the surgery. The trembles, shaking up the entire undead body, and making it impossible to do any neat needlework. Well, no need to feel ashamed of his bad stitches now. Turned out there wasn't such need for them after all.

He loomed over his trembling, helpless captive, and raised the stake. "For you, mother", he found himself whispering, noticing tears striking down his face. "I'm finishing what you started". He looked his mother's murderer in the eyes one last time - and saw tears there too. Silently streaking down the vampire's face, leaving a trail down through the caked blood and general dust from the room that had gathered there. Those eyes the tears were coming from, though, seemed as distant and desolate as before. He studied Spike's face curiously. He saw his mouth moving, as if to form words, but of course, none came. He wondered who Spike thought he was talking to. His head was shifting, face contorting in a pain that clearly wasn't physical. Wood realized that the expression he saw written on his enemy's face was the one he secretly had been longing to see there ever since they met. That of deep, unquenchable guilt.

Damn monster! He had never once looked like that all those times lately when Wood had been berating him for what he had done to his mother. Granted, he had perhaps not presented his case in the most sympathetic manner but... Ahh, this was getting too weird, better just bring down the stake and finish the job already. But, he couldn't. He found himself putting it down, and getting drawn towards Spike's head, soaking in his inner, emotional pain. It resonated with his own in a way he hadn't thought possible. Suddenly he found himself reaching out his hand towards Spike's face, not to strike, but to gently wipe one of those tears away.

His tearstained cheek felt cold, ragged with caked blood and scars, and dangerously thin. Hollow. With bones sharp enough to cut oneself on. It had been a lot more fleshed out when they had started this game down here together, about a month ago. He clearly needed more to eat. But stop a moment! What on earth was he doing, suddenly worrying about this? He wanted this particular vampire to suffer as much as he could! He wanted him to ache, and bleed and starve. And feel all the emotional anguish known to mankind. He was the monster who took his childhood away. The reason he had grown up an orphan, with no normal life. This moment of finally dusting him was one Wood had been looking forward to all his adult life. So why didn't it feel sweeter?

He finally got up. He was tired right now. He'd make a final decision on what to do with the vampire later. Right now he just needed to make sure that he didn't dust on his own, and it wouldn't hurt either, to make sure his wounds healed a little faster, so that he'd have more clean, white vampire skin as his canvas, should he soon desire to carve out another pretty picture of hurt. So, he went to the ice box in the corner of the room, where he kept it, and took out another bottle of blood.

He noticed with some annoyance that the vampire didn't seem to notice him now either. He trembled, and stared into space, and paid no attention to either Wood or the bottle in his hand. First when he had the bottle practically shoved up Spike's mouth, he got a reaction, but it was not the one he was hoping for. Despites how hungry he must be, Spike simply turned his head away and pressed his lips together. "Come on" Wood cooed, half teasing, half annoyed. "I really thought we had gotten past that, hadn't we?" Nothing happened, until Spike's head suddenly whipped towards him, knocking the bottle out of his hand, and snapped at him with his fangs out. Wood cursed, and drew back, before he bent down to pick up the bottle, which had broken into pieces and laid there literally bleeding its' contents out over the floor. Damn that vampire! Well, if he wasn't gonna be a good boy and eat his dinner the regular way, he would have to get it forced down. With how soft he had gone lately, Wood thought that might be best too, to not bend down over him and feed the wretched vampire from bottles, like he was a sweet little baby, but rather through tubes, perhaps pump him so full he exploded, and dusted from that? Probably wouldn't work, but it was worth a shot anyway. He went and prepared the IV - set.

Spike didn't even notice Wood coming in this time. The world around him had faded into a blur of insignificant light and noise. Even the constant pain from all over his body felt strangely distant, like it belonged to somebody else. He was floating, on a cloud of nothingness, with his various thoughts and mental images floating around in the same nothingness, like wisps of smoke, impossible to grasp or hold onto. Time, which had been his constant enemy down here, slugging along in its excruciatingly slow speed, filled with enough nothing - boredom, anxiety of when the torture would resume, and bad memories, to drive even the strongest vampire crazy, didn't hurt anymore. He was nothing now. Done with the world. Just intricately composed dust, waiting for a chance to disintegrate. It couldn't be long now...

Another jolt of pain disturbed his tranquility. His shoulder was sizzling. Fine. Whatever. Not like he cared anymore. Unfortunately, it seemed his body did, though. It started trembling again. Those damn trembles, that had come and gone almost regularly ever since It happened. Ever since he lost his breath. And the wisps of thought-smoke seemed to crystallize, and become more readable images. He wished they wouldn't. He was driven back to the memory the First had referenced, probably a long time ago now. About Dru and Angelus giving him a lesson in how little he was worth to them. Huh, It must really have a liking for long dead things. There were so much fresher, sorer material It could have brought up, had It only had the creativity. His mind floated to the first time he had actually made love with Buffy. Her shock and dismay afterwards, and utter dismissal. "One vampire made me hot. One! But he's not here. You, you're just convenient." Sad thing was, it was probably true. He'd known that much all along. Even though it had still hurt, every time he had gotten to hear it. "It could never be you, Spike! You're beneath me!" How he'd cried, back in that alley, when he'd heard her say that. Laid there in plain public, with her cash spread over him, and just weeping like a baby. Pathetic, really. And still, he could feel himself doing the exact same thing right now, just from the memory of it. Cold, wet tears streaked down his face, like it had just happened, even though it was more than two years ago by now. "I know, Buffy! I know!" he found himself mouthing, soundlessly. "But things have been working a little better lately, haven't they? I almost thought you'd given me a chance?" Yeah right. She wasn't here now, right? And it had been how long? Why hadn't she come? Did she really not care to? Why? Oh, he knew why. He knew it all too well. He had never deserved even the signs of affection she had given him of the past half a year or so. "Ask me again why I could never love you!" She had been so right, back there on the floor of her bathroom. There really was no reason she should. Not after that.

His detrimental train of thought was stopped by a weird sensation, of a soft touch of someone's hand, trailing down his cheek, and wiping a tear away. What the hell? What was Wood playing at now? Surely it had to be him; there was no one else in this desolate place. But this made no sense! Oh, whatever. He was too exhausted to ponder this now. He did his best to drift off into nothingness again.

It didn't work very well, and soon he found his drift disturbed again, by something cold and hard and smooth pressed up against his mouth. It was a new bottle of blood! He could feel the taste of the first mouthful, slithering down his tongue, it's effect already bringing his mind better together again. Bugger that! He pushed the bottle out, by turning his head to the side, and pressed his lips firmly together. "Come on" he could hear Wood coaxing. "I really thought we had gotten past that, hadn't we?" The hell they had! This was over! Whatever mercy game it was Wood had going for him for the moment, Spike was done playing it. He was not gonna humiliate himself by taking favors from that living monster. Ever again. Sure, that policy would eventually dust him, but what was the harm in that? Nothing, as far as he could see. An added benefit, by now. It was about time he started playing this game on his own terms. He eyed the bottle, and noticed how loosely it was held. if he aimed right...

He whipped his head back towards Wood, flashed his fangs, and knocked the bottle out of his hand, and onto the floor. It was kinda satisfying to see how the git cursed, and jumped back in shock, and eyed both him and the bottle in obvious frustration, before he picked the bottle up and pulled back. Hah! Victory. At least for a little bit.

There wasn't much of a trail left. Correction. There wasn't any trail left for Angel to follow. No lingering scent of the vampire that had once annoyed him to the point that he had played with the thought of tossing him out into the sun, but now was desperate to find, and bring all of his shenanigans back into his unlife. He knew he wasn't dead. He would have known if that were the case. They were family after all and despite their inability to get along most of time, there was a bond here, and one that couldn't be shattered no matter how much both of them most of the time believed they wanted it to be. The problem was Spike could be anywhere. Who's to say that he was even in Sunnydale at this point? It was their best bet, what with The First lurking about, but that didn't mean that It hadn't rid him from this town if It found it to be convenient. Still, it gave them somewhere to start.

Buffy's eyes couldn't help being fixed on Angel. She was baffled by him. He cared about the outcome of Spike. Angel cared about Spike's welfare. That sentence didn't sound right to her. It was such a foreign concept. Then again, Angel was all about helping the helpless and right about now Spike seemed to fit the bill. He did have a soul too. He wasn't exactly that blood sucking fiend anymore that she had met in the back of The Bronze after dusting one of his lackeys. He certainly wasn't the beast that Angel had gotten to know throughout the years. The soul makes a difference. Angel knew that better than anyone. Despite all these logical reasons that he might give a damn, it still didn't add up for him to, well, give a damn. Spike and he had never been able to be in the same room without being at each other's throats within five seconds. It wasn't as though their relationship was something that had either one of them bragging. Complaining, certainly, but never something they spoke with pride over. Simply put, good or evil, they didn't ever have anything nice to say about each other, that was until Angel had learned of his grand-childe's disappearance. Buffy couldn't figure it out, especially considering her personal history with Spike. Then it hit her, Angel didn't know. How could he? Where would have learned it from? Spike was still just his annoying grand-childe, not his annoying grand-childe and his girlfriend's ex-lover. She had to figure that made all the difference. Either way, she didn't want to risk losing his help by finding out.

His help comforted her enormously. With him there she wasn't so alone on the hunt as she had been since she learned of Spike's kidnapping. No one else had been willing to get on board with this and they had blamed her for having a heart over this matter. If it were Willow, for example, she highly doubted they would have felt so easy to shrug her off. Thinking on it, it had been Willow once before. They could have stopped his ascension with the box they had taken right from under The Mayor's nose, but they traded it back for their friend. Spike's life was worth less than that to them.

She sighed, she knew the situation was different, she knew where their fears were coming from, but she had been right. Caleb did have something of hers and maybe it wasn't Spike, but it sure as hell was something that had been worth taking from him. The way that he had backed away at first when she held it, she knew it had great power, she could feel it just by holding it in her hands. They thought that it was her judgment that was clouded, yet she was the one with something of great value that quite possibly could hurt the other side. No, she wasn't done looking for Spike, but her responsibilities had gone unshirked. Now, surprisingly enough, she did have someone in her corner. Someone who believed in her, and could help her. She could have cried right then and there. A part of her wanted to do that. Just stop right here, and curl up on his lap to have a good cry. Just soak in the sight and smell and sensation of Angel, and allow herself to feel little and helpless, and protected, like before. Her mind strayed to the last time she had done just that, after her mother's funeral, when all the others had left, and he had come for her. Undemanding, with no pressure, but open arms strong enough to hold both her and her pain, for as long as she wanted. But Spike wasn't dead yet, she had to believe that, so there wasn't time for that. She was on a mission. The First, Spike, she…no correction…they were going to bring him back and save the world.

"I'm not picking up on anything." Angel practically growled.

"I guess we can't be surprised he hasn't been walking the streets lately." Buffy sighed.

"Can Willow do a tracking spell of some kind?" Angel inquired, unaware of what he had just stepped into.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "They've placed their focus elsewhere."

Angel's expression didn't change, but it was clear that he wasn't surprised by this. "So his soul changed him, just not their opinions of him."

Buffy shrugged. "It's not like that. Not completely. I don't know. I guess it depends on which one of them you talk to. They just are keeping their sights on the battle…"

"And here you are, without any backup." Angel observed.

"It's a long story. " Buffy shrugged it off. She didn't want to drudge up the mutiny that had happened the night before. Besides, they were after someone much more important than the tale of her woe.

Angel could sense that this was a sore subject. He couldn't imagine her little group of demon fighters ever breaking up, but they weren't out here, and it was very telling. "So, I'm your one?"

Buffy nodded. "Looks like. Which is kinda weird."

Angel crinkled his eyebrows. "How?"

"You're it. For finding Spike. You can't tell me that even you don't find that to be a little bizarre. I don't exactly remember either of you exchanging nice words. Then again, he was evil. Still, it seems a little backwards that you'd be the one taking charge right now."

"And who would make the most sense?" He gave her a questioning gaze that only stopped when a moment of silence passed between them. "I don't like him, but he's family." He rolled his eyes out of annoyance. "And he does have a soul. I can't say I'd be out here if he didn't have one, but he does. So, let's just find him."

Buffy nodded her head, on board with that notion. Besides, she didn't need the conversation to go any deeper into territory that she was already relieved he didn't know was there.

They continued through the silent dark night, she didn't even have the comfort of his breath to fill the quietness of the evening. Then she remembered. That was a Spike thing.

Weird vampire.

He was that and it was one of the things she missed most about having him around. Angel was good to have around, she cared about him, she always would, but…he didn't breathe.

"I can't believe I didn't see this coming. It's not like this is the first time he's been taken this year." She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but out it came.

"You can't blame yourself. You're doing everything that you can. You're a very capable woman and together we will get him back, and you will take The First down."

"That's what I keep hearing. That's what everyone wants to be so sure of, but none of us can be sure. I hate to say it, but without Spike's power we've taken a major hit. He's one of our strongest weapons." She wanted him back for so much more than that, but she couldn't say it. He'd pick up on something and she couldn't deal with that right now. She knew in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't find him on her own. That was the biggest problem of all, if she couldn't manage to even find Spike on her own, how was she supposed to save the world from the apocalypse of all apocalypse. She spoke more softly now, this constant worry unable to be bottled up. "Everyone's counting on me. It's my job. Save the world. Kill what goes bump at the night. But…shouldn't I have someone I can count on to?"

Angel gave her a sympathetic smile, and stepped up in front of her, to hold her arms tightly. "Yes you should". She returned the smile, and was one moment away from giving in to her urge to just melt into his embrace when he continued. "I might be able to do something about that." He reached into his pocket, drawing Buffy's attention to his hand, and out he pulled a fashion disaster of a necklace, big and clunky, but sparkly, and it held it Buffy's way.

"Can't say it's really my style." She commented dryly.

"I was given this before coming here, when I heard that you needed some help. Kind of shady source, but…"

"Any port in an apocalypse!" Buffy smiled.

"They say a champion is supposed to wear it."

Buffy looked into his face for a moment before clearing her throat, putting the focus back onto their search. "Anything?" She couldn't get into this right now. Not without Spike, not without seeing him, she could deal with the title of champion then. She'd deal with Angel's placement in this when she could see that Spike was safe and sound back home. Only then would she know what to do with Angel, but right now, for the night, there was only one mission that she could handle being on.

Angel's head lifted up in surprise. "Actually. Yes." Without another word, Angel raced off, leaving Buffy to quickly catch up and keep up with his super sensitive nose.

Spike wasn't going to open his mouth. He could feel a Wood's eyes on him now, but it didn't matter, he wasn't going to open his mouth. He didn't care how appetizing Wood tried to make any blood that he was carrying with him appear to be, there was no attempt that could reach his stomach now. There was a rock inside of it. Nausea hit him at the mere thought of blood, though for a vampire to actually throw up took quite a bit. A pain in his heart wouldn't be enough to do it, though he wondered if he could throw up the poisonous thoughts that had taken over his mind and be done with them for good.

"If you're not going to eat willingly then we're going to have to go about this another way. I'll have to help you." Wood stated with slight exasperation.

Spike eyed him with his choice of words. Help. What was this guy playing at? Besides, he couldn't help him. Not with blood. Not even with less than hostile words. There was only one thing in this world that Wood could do for him. That promised staking that he knew had been looming over him since the minute he had been bound down to this table. Where was that? He had done everything to him. Was there any way he could really top what he had already dished out? Why wouldn't he just get it over with! But no, here he was with blood, and promises of help that Spike did not want. Wood really was a master at torture.

Wood continued to gaze down at the vampire who still carried that dazed look on his face, but it had become tenser. It wasn't surprising that he wasn't getting any answer from him at all, now that he could speak anymore, but Spike could not even bring himself to look in his direction. There wasn't even a glare attached to his look anymore. It was all too clear to him that he had completed what he had come here to do, but where to go next he wasn't sure. For now, he just knew the creature needed to be fed. So, he took the vampire by the arm, and started to work the IV inside.

Spike's shuddering increased at the feeling of the needle slip into his arm. What was he doing now? No! This couldn't happen!

No! No! No!

He could feel his shouts coming up to his mouth, but nothing came out. He was sure that Wood could see his protests, he wasn't blind. It wasn't his right! It was his own choice! Wood had no right to take that away! He couldn't do this. He couldn't. Spike tensed his arm up and that only made the IV sting more as Wood shoved it into his arm. Spike couldn't stand for this. He couldn't have it. What gave Wood the right? He could beat him in all the worst ways, but this was too far. It just was! He didn't need a reason to be so strongly against this new violation. He was against it above all else. He was just so tired! All the noise in his mind, all the pain, there was so much pain. He was just tired. He wanted it out of him! The IV, the memories that continued to insult his mind, everything, he wanted it out!

Take it out you soddin' wanker! Have no right! Don't get to make decisions for me! My choice! My buggerin' choice!

Wood could see the fight that was going on, although it was more internal. It had reached the surface, the tightness on his arm, the animalistic look on the bleach blonde vamp's face; well he had gotten the reaction that he was looking for. The constant struggle between Spike and blood had been baffling from the minute it had started that month back when he had first brought him here. He thought vampires loved their blood. Spike, on the other hand, seemed to go out of his way to be a pain in the ass in regards to it. Right now, he was more passionate about not having it than ever before. That was taken care of, the IV was doing its job now, ready to start filling his body with sweet blood…

"Damn" Wood swore under his breath as he lifted the tube of the IV up for him to see. "You have got to be kidding me." He shook his head. "Sit tight." He smirked as if Spike had a choice. He ripped the IV roughly out of his captive's arm and tossed it to the side in annoyance. "Damn thing's clogged."

Relief washed over Spike's face.

"Don't celebrate just yet. I'm sure there's another one around here somewhere…" With that daunting thought, once again, Wood left Spike to stew.

"I don't see anything." Angel observed as he and Buffy stood on the green grass of what appeared to be an abandoned area. All he could see was the beginning of woods, but where was Spike? It wasn't as though the openness of the location provided a lot of hiding places? Yet this spot strongly smelled of him.

"This doesn't make sense." Angel sighed.

"Yes. Yes, it does…" Buffy's voice was barely above a whisper.

Angel turned and looked at the Slayer, her tone of voice shaken enough to send shivers down his spine. When he saw the look on her face, he saw why, she was practically pale. Wherever they were, this was a very bad place, and the chances were something very bad had been done to his childe.

Buffy didn't wait to explain this place to Angel before she started ripping down at the ground with her bare hands. The last time the use of a shovel had been in order, but this time she didn't bother. She dug in the dirt with her hands; not caring that her fingernails were breaking in the process. He was down there. Why? Why the Initiative compound? Her stomach turned. She had been down there before, she knew everything that was lying about, it was a place where pure evil could have its fun.

Instead of stopping her from her hysteria, Angel joined in on the dig, tossing dirt aside with his hands. Right now, it didn't matter what this place was. He could get answers later. It was clearly a bad place and somewhere that he needed to get Spike out of and fast.

They hit something solid, and stepping out of the way, Buffy reached down and threw the hidden door open. It seemed she was jumping through a lot of those these days. She jumped down without sparing Angel a passing glance.

When she reached the ground she walked without hesitation, not waiting for her unexpected partner in all of this, she just headed down the hallway…a lit hallway. She knew that Angel was behind her now, she could hear him crash to the ground, much like Spike had the last time. Had she been in a more playful state that would have been amusing, what with vampires supposedly having coordination, but she didn't have time for that, nor did her mood call for it.

Angel noticed the light as well, but judging by the massacre they were walking around, and the lack of upkeep this place was experiencing, he'd say that it hadn't been used in a long while. "Lights being on. Not a good sign?"

"Nope." Was the only response that Angel heard come from Buffy.

This was getting ridiculous. He caught up to her and took her by the arm, stopping her in her tracks. He knew that getting Spike out of here was the mission and he let her go out of her mind up there before, but for Spike's sake he needed answers if they were going to get out of here alive. He needed to fill her in on some answers even she wasn't aware of right now. They were not going to blow this having found him now. He wouldn't let them.

"Will you stop for a second?" Angel demanded.

"We don't have a second!" Buffy retaliated angrily.

"Make one! Buffy, we are not alone down here." Angel said lowering his voice, but the intensity in his tone remained.

That caught Buffy's attention. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I can smell someone else. Recently. There's a heartbeat off in the distance somewhere. It's not just Spike that's down here." Angel loosened the grip on her arm.

"A human?" Buffy processed this for a moment. What human? What would The First need with a human anyway? She shook her head. There wasn't time for this. "Then we'll deal with him…her…whatever."

"Him." Angel clarified. "It smells like a him." He sighed in exasperation. "Buffy, what is this place?"

She stared at him with a blank expression before answering all too simply. "Hell."

With that, they walked on, resuming their frantic pace, as they moved from hallway to hallway. She wanted to get her hands on the human that was in this place, she could handle one measly human. If she found out that they had harmed a hair on Spike's head, she would make them pay. She would make them wish she had killed them.

She stopped short in her tracks when Angel did. He was staring through a pair of double doors, and if it were possible, he looked even whiter than he normally did. In that moment, she knew what he was looking at. A lump forming in her throat, tears ready to spill from her eyes, and she hadn't seen the site that he had just yet.

She slowly retraced her steps, making her way back towards the double doors that she had passed in her anger. When reaching them, she faced the glass. The sight that met her eyes made her gasp and in an instant she threw the doors open and flung herself towards the table that Spike had been bound to. "Spike! Oh…Spike!" She didn't realize that she was hollering. It didn't matter either. Who was she going to alert? The human? Good. He could come and she could pay him back with pain. She started working at the bounds around Spike's wrists hastily, unable to keep from talking to him, wanting him desperately to know that he was safe. She needed him to know that she was going to save him. She was going to make this right.

"I'm here now. It's alright. I'm here. You're alright…"

Buffy continued to coo at him, but the state that he was in wasn't completely lost on her. He was without clothing. For how long now? And why? She could see why. She could see why very well. The markings. The abuse that had been done. It was sickening. She felt nauseous thinking about the long list of damages that was forming in her mind as she looked from one part of his body to another and another. Comfort now. Get sick later. Strength. She needed to find that inner strength she possessed, at least for a little while. Clothes! She needed to find him clothes. Something comfortable that he could wear over the havoc that had been inflicted on him. There weren't any with her at this moment. She hadn't known to bring any, the last time he had been left with his pants at least. Now, it seemed clothing would have gotten in the way of marking up every inch of him. The sooner they got him out of there, the sooner he could be taken care of. Yes. That would be better. The healing of these wounds. The road to recovery. The comfort of clothing. The comfort of something other than here. Something normal and familiar.

Angel walked into the room slowly, standing in the background as his eyes ran over his grand-childe. Broken bones, blood, he was terribly thin. He had always been thin, but this was unhealthy. He could see his ribs jetting out. The fact that he could see his ribs was of disturbance. No dignity. Laid out for all to see every bit of him. The shame of it. Despite the situation displayed before his eyes, Angel couldn't take his eyes off his boy. He couldn't stop staring at the horror that had been made of him, or the truth that was right in front of him, that he didn't dare to believe until he was directly addressed.

Buffy looked up after freeing one of Spike's wrists. "We could move a lot faster if you were helping."

"They operated on him…"

"What?" Buffy's look of annoyance melted into concern.

Angel spoke again, softly, almost timidly, unlike his usual self. "They…they operated on him…"

Buffy gazed down at the condition of her former lover, having seen only a glance of what had been done to him before rushing into action. Her mind had only registered that he had been damaged, it just didn't pick up on how badly.

She immediately took a step back, her hands raised in the air out in front of her as if they would hurt him if they got any closer. She stared at him unable to move, frozen in place, trying to process the news that she had just been given. What possible purpose could have come from opening him up?

She didn't have time to question this further, her head popped up from the sound of something, and she soon realized that it was a growl coming from the cursed vampire beside her. Angel had vamped out completely, his eyes an intense yellow complete with furious features. She set her own jaw tightly, fury rising in her own self, and she knew that the two of them were on the same page. With that they both stepped towards the table and began freeing him once again.

Spike didn't believe for a moment that they were real. They never had been in the past. It was means to hurt him again. It was means to break him. Joke was on them, yeah? He didn't hurt anymore. He was numb. There was nothing left to feel. There was nothing left to him. Then she touched him. Her hand. On his arm. She undid the bonds that held his arm in place; he could move it freely if he chose to. He didn't dare. It could be a trick of some kind. A game that he would lose if he played. But, it was Buffy. Buffy didn't play games. Buffy had touched him. Could it be true?

Buffy?

His lips formed the word, but nothing came out. He could hear her whispering gently to him, but…his eyes darted over to Angel. No! Not…not him! It couldn't be. No. But that would mean? He had been wrong. He could still hurt after all. He of all vampires should know that the truth was sometimes more painful than the lie. It was why he had often shoved the truth in Buffy's face in the past, because he knew that what was going on right in front of her eyes or just under her nose would pain her more than any lie that he could ever fabricate. Now, he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

She was with him. Why hadn't Wood taken his unbeating heart too? There was no life to it anyway, there was no chance of it ever beating again, it was useless. It would only love what was lost. He could only love what he would never have. How could he miss someone that had never been there with him in the first place?

I believe in you, Spike.

Yet, she was running around with Captain Forehead. She couldn't wait to jump back into his arms the minute that Spike had been taken from her sight. She needed a stronger warrior, for the war and for her life; he wasn't it.

Got yourself taken by the soddin' First twice now, what did you bleedin' expect? Good for nothin', that's what you are. Especially now. Been made more of a nothin' than you were before. Buffy can see it. Don't bloody well care, still got herself more of a nothin' than I am now. Soddin' pounce Nancy Boy over there is.

"Spike?" Buffy looked into his eyes as Angel worked to get the last lock down by his ankle undone. "Spike?" She tried again, this time waving her hand in front of his face.

Spike eyed her. There was a look of sadness in his eyes that Buffy could feel crush her heart, but she was able to get nothing more than that.

"He's really quiet. For Spike. Shouldn't he be swearing and calling us daft or something?" Buffy inquired.

Angel didn't comment right away, but he had been thinking that exact same thing. Spike had a mouth on him. It was one of the first things that popped into a person's mind when his name was mentioned. He didn't hold his tongue. Ever. Wait a minute…Those stitches, they meant an operation, an operation meant…what? What had been the purpose of cutting him open besides the torture of it? Now it was Angel's turn to feel nauseous. Throwing up was not something that vampires really did a lot, but in that moment an exception quite possibly was going to be made. "They took his lungs…"

Buffy's head whipped over at him sharply. "What?"

"You heard me…"

"I really really don't think I did." Buffy's eyes boring into him demanding he'd come to another conclusion.

"Buffy, he can't talk. He was operated on. You're right, he is being too quiet. Spike is never too quiet. He doesn't know how to be. For someone who doesn't like the comfort of people he sure as hell likes to goad them into an argument. Why would he suddenly be so silent unless he had to be?"

Buffy felt as though she couldn't breathe now. Angel had to be wrong! He needed to be wrong! But, it added up. It was the only explanation. She certainly couldn't come up with anything better... "Get him free." She ordered through clenched teeth.

Angel did set back to work on the final clasp, doing just as she demanded. When the clasp was off and Spike's leg was free, Angel walked up by Spike's torso, and prepared himself mentally. "Here we go." He spoke to no one in particular. He slipped his coat off and then carefully lifted Spike off the table and into his arms, covering him up, giving him some dignity back while listening to Buffy say a lot of "Careful!" and "Don't hurt him!" the whole time he was picking him up.

Jolted from his state of self-pity by the searing pain that shot up and down his body, Spike felt himself being lifted from the table. It was impossible not to feel it. Every nerve in his body was reacting from what he was certain had to be more abuse. However, when letting his eyes focus in on what was happening, he saw that it wasn't his usual tormentor's arms that he was lying in. It was the other one. A tormentor in a different way, mental and emotional, and in some ways so much worse. Tall, dark, and broody, who had no right. He took his love, robbed his heart of what he held dearly once again, and then thought he could play the big strapping hero without there being any consequences. Oh! He'd show him!

He couldn't hiss. He couldn't growl. That didn't mean he couldn't get his point across. Eyes shooting up at his grand-sire's face full of pity that he just wanted to slap off, Spike flashed his fangs out, as his eyes took on a more golden color.

Angel glanced down at the animalistic expression on Spike's face before muttering to himself. "Well, it looks like he remembers me."

Making their way towards the double doors, exiting, Buffy turned to face Angel. "What about…you know…him?" Buffy gestured with her head indicating the human that was in the compound subtly, not wanting to catch Spike's attention on the matter.

Angel paused, listening closely, and then shook his head, "Whoever was here before is gone now."

Wood was running as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn't have time to question the discovery of his captive, why the slayer had ever thought to check the initiative was beyond him. It was known that the seal was in the school basement, the entrance to the hellmouth was where The First could be found. There was no time to come up with anything solid to answer to this inquiry, he just needed to get home, be as far away from the scene of the crime as possible, and figure things out when he was safe.

The IV had been in his hand ready to give Spike his meal. He had left the room for only a few minutes when all of a sudden voices could be heard coming from the lab where all his games had been played. Originally, he thought it was just The First playing with him again, not that Spike seemed to be paying attention anymore. As Wood had gotten closer to the room, he peered through the doors as usual, and just as he was about to push those doors open, he saw it. The touch.

It was really them. He didn't stick around longer to get any details after that.

As Wood reached his apartment, he rushed inside, locked the door behind him, and slammed his back against it, catching his breath. He was on the verge of panicking. They had found out. He could be found out! What he had done, how he had betrayed them, he hadn't meant to! He had been desperate and The First held the key to exactly what he needed. It was so easy for him to be judged, but had it been any of their mothers they might not be so quick to cast stones! Logic wouldn't get through to Buffy. He had heard the tone in her voice the last time he had been in a mess like this. He remembered her final words to him. His vendetta had gone much further this time. She couldn't find out. He had to do something…

Yet, Spike couldn't speak. He wouldn't be able to speak for some time. He was safe as far as the bleach blonde vampire went…for now. He just needed to stick around, make sure The First was taken care of, so it never said anything, and Spike…well...he just needed to take care of him before he got his loud mouth back. That would be easy enough to do if he couldn't call out for help. Spike was much too wounded to fight back. A mere struggle on his part would damage him severely. Wood would follow through with that promised staking and then all his problems would be gone. He had a plan. What he learned recently was that he was very good at carrying his plans out.

Spike scowled the whole way to Buffy's. Every step Angel took only deepened the angry expression that was on his face. His thoughts were almost enough to make him forget the jolting pain that shot up and down his body as they continued to move. Almost. There was no thought deep enough or emotion intense enough that could get his mind completely off his body. He so desperately wanted to be put down where his wounds couldn't be battered and irritated any further. His back, his front, they both had been mutilated badly; there was no comfortable way to be held, so why couldn't the brute just let him alone?

Buffy walked alongside them, gazing over at Spike in concern, sometimes ruffling his hair here and there trying to be of comfort to him. She ignored the curious look that appeared on Angel's face every time she did this. Right now, what he was or wasn't picking up on couldn't be a concern of hers. With Spike, nothing that she did worked. His mood could not be fixed. He would not take comfort and the tension in his body wouldn't die down.

Buffy desperately wanted him to speak. It was eerie. Silence was something that never came from him. He might take a breath, which was weird enough for a vampire, but that was the length of quiet that he seemed to be able to handle. She longed to hear his voice after so long of wishing that he would quiet himself. It was her own complicated feelings that wanted to silence him, because then she wouldn't have to face what they both knew to be true. He had never let her live in denial. He had gone after her so much harder and so much more passionately than anyone before. She had shot him down time and time again, but with reason. He had been evil. He had been everything that she was supposed to be against. Eventually, he had gone too far.

He has a soul now.

He was different, he had proven it, and where as she had stopped using him, and they had started treating each other with respect, she still couldn't help but push her feelings away. Why did she do that? Why take him for granted? His words and everything that he was? Now, he was lost. Hurt. Angry. There was so much pain and all she wanted was to fix this, but all he could do was glare at Angel. Mistake Number One: Letting them near each other. She was off to a great start.

Spike just wanted Angel to put him down! He wasn't needed anymore. He never needed him. He had done fine on his own without him…well besides during this Wood business, but it didn't take Angel to get him out of there. Buffy could deal with this on her own just fine now. But no, they were shagging like bunnies by this point; that sicky sweet part of the relationship where they couldn't leave each other's side. He wanted Angel to be dust.

Angel arms clenched at Spike tightly, holding him securely, trying so hard to make it clear that he was safe now. He wasn't stupid. He could see the look on his grand-childe's face. He could see the disgust.

The big strappin' hero comes through again.

He could almost hear the words pouring from Spike's lips. It was too bad. Angel was here to help him. No one hurt him! Though he had done it plenty of times as Angelus, even his demon had never gone so far. He had never injured him badly. It made him furious all over again that someone had, and with that, his secure arm tightened around him even more.

That was it! Spike had it! Take his lady! But how dare he suddenly pretend that his fate mattered in the slightest! It was probably a weak attempt to impress Buffy. Yeah. That was it. Show her how heroic he was. Get himself an in, so they'd hop into bed and he could get all serial killer on her once more. What else was he going to believe? That despite their differences Angel was still helping?

Bugger that!

His fangs ripped right into Angel's skin. He bit at it ferociously, the blood of his Sire spilling into his mouth. He felt rabid. His fangs going in deeper and deeper, as he tore at the arm, taking away layer upon layer of now damaged skin.

Buffy looked on horrified, taking a step to stop this, figuring that Angel carrying him hadn't been the best plan, but her former lover spoke softly before she was able to take any kind of action.

"Go ahead, Spike! Bite at me all you want. I don't mind. I'm not putting you down, and I'm not going away. Throw your tantrum. Get all of that anger out. Put it on me if you have to." He sighed. "Besides, you look like you could use a meal. Drink all you need."

Spike's fangs slowly extracted from his arm, more from shock then from not wanting to hand over the satisfaction. He didn't understand this reaction. What was going on? Maybe he had completely lost it? Could it be that he was imagining all of this? Could it be that he was still stuck in the lab after all and he was only imagining a rescue? Or maybe Wood had finally dusted him and he was in hell. He couldn't think of a fate worse than a world where Buffy and Angel were back together while he was being cared for by this Nancy Boy. It couldn't be real. It didn't make sense. Angel would never have taken a bite like that, least of all from him of all vampires. He didn't understand…

With that he fell into unconsciousness, having worn himself out.