A/N: A thousand thanks to Geliot99 for all the help!
Stepping off the elevator, Buffy and Spike made their way to Lena's apartment on the upper floor, when a tall thin man with brown hair exited the door. He was clearly distressed and Buffy suspected he had been crying, her suspicions were confirmed when a second man, slightly taller and more muscular came running after him. "Paul!" he cried and the two proceeded to have a very short but intense conversation in German before the first man turned to leave. The second man slumped against the wall watching him disappear down the stairwell, oblivious to the presence of Buffy and Spike.
Spike cast a look at Buffy; he could feel the empathy rolling off of her. He turned his attention back to the man, cleared his throat, and took a tentative step toward him, voice soft, "You alright, Mate?"
The man looked up, straightening abruptly, and ran a hand through his medium brown hair. Unshed tears were still visible in his eyes as he swallowed roughly. "Not in the slightest, but thanks." His voice was thick with emotion, his accent a clipped thing that barely colored his words. It was evident he had studied English from a young age.
Buffy took a step forward, gesturing toward the apartment. "I'm guessing you must be Emil?"
He nodded as he cast a longing glance toward the stairwell and cleared his throat again turning towards them. "That must make you the friends Lena's waiting for." He gestured to the door in a silent welcome.
Buffy turned her head to look back at Spike when a loud welcoming "Buffy!" rang out into the corridor from inside the apartment. Buffy moved into the open doorway as Lena rushed down the gracefully curving glass-edged staircase with her long brown hair trailing behind her. She was built like a gymnast, all compact muscle, much like Buffy but with a little more mass, especially across her shoulders. Lena practically catapulted herself at Buffy clasping her hands. "Oh, it's been far too long my friend! Come in! Both of you! What are you waiting for, Spike? Buffy has told me so much about you! Come in, come in, have a pint of blood. I got it fresh from the butcher this afternoon!"
Spike was a bit taken aback by this unknown Slayer's enthusiasm and cast a look from Buffy to the dejected-looking Emil who seemed like he might collapse any second.
Lena's sharp eyes followed Spike's gaze to her brother. She dropped Buffy's hands, stepping to the side to let Buffy and Spike into the spacious upscale apartment.
"Emil?" Lena asked, her voice low. She said a few words in German, pulling her brother toward the immaculate cream-colored sofa. She tried to get him to sit but Emil refused, speaking rapidly, he turned from her abruptly heading for the stairs.
Lena pressed her lips together, watching her brother's hasty retreat before she turned back to Buffy and Spike. "I'm sorry about that. He eh—"
"We kinda got the end of the show out there," Spike answered, hitching a thumb toward the door.
"Yeah- he's pretty upset- embarrassed too, I think," Lena replied. She seemed to shake herself a little and smiled distractedly. "I promised you some blood. What about you, Buffy, would you like some wine? I could make tea or coffee if you'd prefer."
Buffy frowned. "Are you sure you don't want to go check on him?"
Lena shook her head sadly. "I don't think he's ready to hear what I have to say about Paul. He's a nice enough guy but he just isn't ready for the same sort of commitment Emil is looking for in a partner."
Buffy frowned at that and decided to push it to the side, at least for the moment. Despite the current state of their relationship, she knew all too well what she had put Spike through because of her own lack of commitment. That would never happen again, not ever.
Strong arms snaked around her from behind.
No use projecting now, Pet. His voice sounded in her head as he nuzzled her temple chastely.
Lena cleared her throat, her eyes roaming the pristine space that opened up to the kitchen and she ushered them to sit at the marble-top breakfast bar in the center of the brightly lit room.
Spike blinked under the glare of the expensive-looking postmodern pendant light above them. The large colorful piece was a stark contrast to the predominantly white space punctuated with cozy shades of cream and grays. The exceptions seemed to be in the lighting fixtures and various textiles such as the intricately woven rugs that graced the hardwood floors in the living space and under the white dining table.
Lena looked slightly distracted, but determined to fulfill her duty as a gracious hostess. She laid her hand on the countertop in a decisive gesture intended to cover her inner turmoil. "I'm sorry, Buffy, did you want wine?"
"Sure a glass sounds great. You sound like you could use it too," Buffy responded as she made herself comfortable on her stool.
Lena frowned. Shifting a length of hair behind her shoulder. "I would be a liar if I said I didn't see this coming. I think Emil was pretty blindsided by it though."
"Love has a funny way of doing that to you," Spike commiserated, taking the container of blood Lena offered him.
He blinked down at the cold blood in his hand.
Okay, so apparently there's a bit of a learning curve to be had here. He thought.
Like you've never drunk it cold before. Buffy retorted.
Thank the powers it's not iced.
Buffy suppressed a laugh remembering the way Spike and Angel had discussed iced blood like a couple of coffee snobs when Angel had visited the castle.
Spike shot her a glance. "Not a snob, just know what I like," he muttered under his breath before taking a long gulp.
Lena proceeded to open a bottle of wine and pour two glasses for herself and Buffy.
Buffy accepted her glass and started rotating it idly on the counter in front of her. "Do you have any more information on our nightmare beasty?" she asked tentatively.
Lena took a relieved breath as though getting her mind back on slaying was a blessing from the heavens. "We have seven people in a coma, three dead. It's like they went to sleep and can't wake up and just waste away to nothing. Even with medical care which is what alerted me to it in the first place." She took a drink of her wine.
"What are the doctors saying about it?" Buffy asked.
"That they're stuck in a dream state. Like they are trapped inside nightmares they can't escape from."
Buffy pinched her lips together. "What kind of a timetable are we dealing with?"
A grimace passed over Lena's features. "About a week from the time they fall into the coma, if the trend holds. Emil and I have been busy trying to pinpoint where it might strike next but this has been happening within a rather large radius from the center of the city. If we don't do something quickly someone else is bound to die within the next three days and we just can't seem to narrow it down… I truly don't know how much help Emil is going to be now—" she cut off, nearly finishing her glass in one long pull.
Buffy watched her. Lena seemed like she was carrying the weight of the world around, a pressure she was intimately familiar with. Buffy swallowed another sip of wine, giving herself time to think. "Breakups are always rough, just give him time. Spike was already sort of filling me in on some of the possible nasties we could be dealing with, we'll figure it out, it's what we do."
"Oh, so you're familiar with them?" Lena asked, turning to Spike.
He shrugged. "Been a spell since I've seen one, but I know the Mahrs I've encountered are typically only attracted to the vulnerable."
"In what way?" Lena asked.
"Sort of depends but it's usually some sort of psychological or emotional blow," he explained.
Lena frowned. "My first thought was it might be a succubus because the first two were men who had been unfaithful and their wives left them when they found out. I thought that was the link but then the very next one was a girl whose biggest concern, according to her parents, was getting her acceptance letter from the university of her choice."
Spike took another polite drink of blood and suppressed a grimace. "What do you know about the others?"
"Not a lot. We've tried questioning some of the families. Nothing seems to make sense. One man just lost his job, another woman just started one. The owner of a boutique down the street was found asleep at her desk. It just goes on like that."
Spike shifted on his stool, tilting his head in contemplation toward Buffy and then back to Lena. "Think you're gonna have to tell us everything you got, even the trivial bullocks, Luv."
Buffy nodded in agreement, finishing her glass of wine. "Then I'm calling Giles, maybe he can shed some light on our bad-dream-baddie."
(*)
Buffy lifted Spike's arm from where it lay across her stomach and slipped out of bed. She pulled on a pair of red leather pants and an off-white cable knit sweater and slipped out the door leaving Spike alone in the guest bedroom with the curtains drawn. The scent of coffee greeted her as she made her way downstairs.
Emil sat at the breakfast bar, hunched over a bowl of what Buffy thought might have been cream of wheat. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, matching the disheveled appearance of his lounge pants and shirt. He poked at the contents of his bowl a few times as Buffy poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across from him.
"Morning," Buffy murmured.
Emil gave a small nod. "Morning," he sighed, releasing his spoon and straightening up a little.
"That bad huh?" she asked, gesturing to the bowl.
"Grießbrei, it's one of my favorites actually… I'm just—"
"Not big with the hungry. Yeah, breakups are the worst." Buffy paused, adding cream and sugar to her cup. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Emil snorted almost angrily and shifted back on his stool a little. "No— I- not to be rude but I highly doubt I am great company at the moment. I didn't sleep well. I think I'm going to just go back to bed if you don't mind."
Buffy shook her head. "No I get it, go on, get some sleep."
He ran a hand through his hair before taking his bowl to the sink and turning back to Buffy. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this."
"You seriously don't have to worry about it. I'm sort of the queen of the unexpected dumping. We could share some war stories. Heck, I had one guy fly away in a helicopter, talk about being left."
Emil blinked a few times. "You're joking with me."
"Really not."
He shook his head. "Perhaps we will talk later."
Buffy shrugged, taking a sip of coffee. "Pretty sure we're staying for a while. Just take care of yourself, go join the day sleeper crowd. I guarantee Spike won't be up for hours."
Emil gave a weak smile. "Thank you. Oh- Lena should be back soon. She runs in the morning," he replied awkwardly before excusing himself and disappearing up the stairs to his bedroom.
Buffy finished her coffee and proceeded into the living room. She pulled out her phone and used speed dial as she made herself comfortable on the sofa. The phone rang several times before the call connected.
"You made it to Munich then I trust?" came Giles's harried voice.
"Yeah, late last night." She could hear him shuffling the phone and talking to someone in the background. "Is this a bad time?"
"No, no. I'm glad you called, Xander was just taking some of the girls over to the duplex to help him clean up the work site."
"How's it coming?" Buffy asked excitedly. The thought of coming back to their own home kindled something in her gut and sent a warm flood through her limbs.
"I'm amazed at the amount of work they have managed to get done in the last few weeks. Xander seems to be working doubly hard so he can spend his free time with a certain Vengeance Demon."
Buffy could practically taste the next question dangling in the air. "Do I know if Spike had the 'You shouldn't have done it but no one is actually upset that you did' talk with Vivian yet? Yes, he did. Did you have the 'Don't make wishes in front of a Vengeance Demon' talk with Xander?" she countered.
"I did. I'm not sure what good it did really. He insists he wasn't even aware he had made a wish and frankly doesn't seem the least bit bothered by the outcome," Giles answered.
"Just keep an eye out."
"Of course I will. Now tell me, what were you able to find out in Munich?" Giles asked, tone serious.
Buffy shifted back into the rather uncomfortable but stylish cushion behind her. "A lot of stuff we pretty much already knew but things are getting worse. Lena gave us a rundown of all the victims and we spent most of the night trying to figure out a common denominator."
"That could certainly prove useful."
"Maybe… all we got is that they are all within a few miles of the center of the city, and they all seem to be stressing out about something major in their lives," Buffy finished lamely.
"I see. So otherwise you have nothing."
Buffy sighed. "I wouldn't say 'nothing', just not a lot. Lena and I are going to check out the hospital when she gets back and see what we can turn up. Then she said something about taking me to an art museum. I guess this one has a new exhibit she wants to check out."
"Oh? Which one is it?" he asked, suddenly interested.
"Okay, so you do know my German is about as good as my Sumerian right?" Buffy grinned.
Giles gave a small laugh. "Abysmal then."
"I'd need more lessons to be abysmal."
"Ah, yes— well I only ask about the museum because The Haus der Kunst has become fairly well known for their revolving temporary exhibitions and exhibits."
"That name sounds familiar; I think that's the one she was talking about actually. I guess she goes there a lot from the sound of it but she hasn't had a chance to go since the new exhibit opened a few days ago because of all the sleep crazy going on."
Giles was quiet for a moment before he gave a hum of consideration. "Might I advise the two of you to keep your eyes open for anything odd while you're there? I find it very curious that all this started up just prior to the exhibition opening."
"Are you thinking artifact?" Buffy asked.
"Not necessarily, although it's possible. I'll have to do some research on the subject but I seem to recall hearing a story about nightmare demons being contained using things like plaster and paint. If such an object has been damaged it could explain why this is happening now."
"Huh?" Buffy suppressed a groan at the thought of having to comb the city's museums for anything broken.
Wild goose chase much?
"How important is it that we find this maybe broken thingy? I mean are we going to be able to use it to trap it again?" Buffy huffed indignantly, shifting herself on the sofa.
"I'll need to consult my books to find the details. It may be important to find the source of the sudden attacks."
"And if we can't find anything?"
"Then perhaps I will."
(*)
The trip to the hospital only further confirmed the assumptions they had made the night before and Buffy was feeling more than just a little disheartened from it. She glanced over at Lena as they made their way into the entrance of the museum. It was a stone structure clearly designed to showcase grandeur and it made Buffy pause a moment before going in.
Lena nudged Buffy in the arm. "I am so glad you're here. I have been looking forward to seeing this exhibit ever since they announced they were having a special exhibition for Halloween," Lena exclaimed happily.
"You do know Halloween is at the end of the month right?" Buffy asked sarcastically.
"Guard your tongue! Halloween is my favorite! We have a massive party every year."
Buffy shrugged. "Maybe it's just because I've been doing this longer, but Halloween is a serious stay home night for me if I can avoid going out… which you know, pretty much never freaking happens. I always end up having to slay something or kick someone's ass."
Lena gave her a tight smile. "All part of the job though, yes?"
"That's what I keep telling everybody so it must be true," Buffy grumbled halfheartedly as they waited in a short line at the front desk. "So what's so special about this exhibit?"
"It is a collection of the macabre. Perfect for the month of Halloween, don't you think?"
"Whatever keeps your boat all floaty."
(*)
He had only just sat down at the breakfast bar with a mug of blood, when Emil shambled down the stairs. He headed straight to the sink in almost zombie fashion, filling a glass with tap water and guzzling it down. Spike watched him as he drank a second full glass and filled a third.
Emil turned around, stepping back against the edge of the sink in surprise at Spike's presence. "Scheiße!" Emil bit out under his breath as he nearly spilled his water.
Spike smirked at the look of shock on Emil's face. "You look like you've seen a ghost, mate."
"Nightmare," Emil rasped out and drank some more of his water before continuing, "although finding a vampire in my kitchen is a bit of a shock."
That made Spike grin. "Do I frighten you?"
"I think I have learned enough about your kind over the past year to be weary when one is welcomed into my home."
"Smart boy," Spike agreed with a nod. "Fortunately for you I've changed a fair bit over the last few years.
Emil slipped onto the stool next to him, sipping his water. "I heard about the soul. I am curious about your hands though."
Spike stretched the fingers of one hand out in front of him examining his chipped nails. "My hands?"
"Lena was part of the group that went to LA to extract the mad Slayer. She said she only got a glimpse of you but realized who you were after Buffy said you had returned," Emil answered simply.
Spike shrugged. "Can't say I remember her, I was a bit preoccupied at the time."
"Imagine so. I am fascinated by the way they were able to reattach your severed hands."
"A miracle of modern medicine and shamanism."
"Fascinating…" Emil finished his water and went to refill his glass. The color had returned to his skin and he was calmer now.
Spike sipped his blood absently, letting the conversation die out as he casually watched Emil. His movements still had a stiff quality to them that told Spike he was far from relaxed. Whether that was a result of emotional bruising from his breakup or because of Spike himself, he wasn't sure.
(*)
The museum exhibit was filled with an array of art works depicting various haunting images. Some were breathtakingly beautiful in their own complex ways and others were truly nightmare fuel. Not that it bothered Buffy much, for the most part she had slain more horrific things than what was depicted in these paintings.
Most of the work was surreal in nature but some pieces were more realistic or purely fantastical. Buffy stood transfixed in front of a large painting that was done in something more akin to the works of the pre-raphaelites. It depicted a man lying prone on a bed draped in white. A skeletal gray creature with abnormally long limbs sat crouched on the man's chest, the woman in the bed next to him lying in a swoon against the pillows, flame red hair draped around her shoulders.
As mesmerizing as the composition was, Buffy couldn't help noticing something seemed off at the edge of the frame. A faint line, barely a millimeter from the edge of the frame as though the frame had been recently replaced. Could this be the damaged item Giles had asked her to find?
"Lena?"
Lena drifted over from the painting next to her. "What is— Oh…"
"I think we might have found our something artifact-y," Buffy answered.
Lena raised her eyebrows at her, looking around at the rest of the items on display. "What makes you think this one is any different than the others? Or that one in particular?" she asked, pointing from the one they were standing in front of to a fauvist painting. It consisted of nearly the same subject matter but with a woman laying asleep with a similar but much more stout, goblin-like creature on her chest. The choice of colors used combined with the subject matter gave the viewer the impression of a bad acid trip.
Buffy turned back to the painting in front of them. "No, I think this is it. Check out the edge," she added, pointing.
Lena took a step closer focusing on the painting for a moment before spinning on her heel, eyes darting around and locking onto one of the docents. "Entschuldigung, können Sie uns helfen?" she asked, getting the attention of a graying man wearing a blazer with a museum pin on the lapel.
He came closer, replying politely as Lena asked him a few questions about the painting.
While the two spoke, Buffy continued to study the painting, particularly along the edge of the frame and the frame itself. Nothing else caught her attention but she wasn't about to try to get any closer to it in the middle of the day with patrons all around.
She was pulled from her study of the painting when Lena nudged her arm. Buffy looked up to see the docent walking away from them.
"What did you find out?" Buffy asked quietly.
Lena leaned into Buffy's side. "He says the painting had to be reframed in a rush because the original was damaged during transport to the museum."
"Which means that Giles is probably right and the painting was damaged under the frame," Buffy huffed, frowning at the image of the creature.
"Come, there is still more to see and I wanted to stop for Bretz'n on the way home. Emil could use a little cheering up," Lena sighed.
Buffy furrowed her brow a little, searching her memory banks for the few German words she knew. "Are you talking about those giant soft pretzels?"
Lena beamed at her nodding. "You will love them!"
"Emil isn't the only one who could use a pick-me-up."
(*)
Buffy was infinitely grateful to have Lena to show her around the city. Especially during such a busy time of year when an influx of tourists flooded the streets. Lena knew all of the best places to visit that were off the usual tourist routes. They were still busy but not quite as congested which meant they could get in and out more quickly.
The pair of them had stopped for a case of beer and a dozen large pretzels. It was all Buffy could do to stop herself from devouring them on the way home. They had hardly eaten all day and she was nearly starving.
"Save your appetite!" Lena giggled as Buffy eyed the box in her hands. They each ate a pretzel already, as they walked through the streets and Buffy was hoping for a second. "I'm not about to let a guest go hungry!"
Buffy sighed. "We should probably get Spike some more blood too. He gets the grumpies when he's hungry."
Lena gave a curt nod, gesturing up ahead of them with her chin as she adjusted the pretzel box in her hands. "Butcher shop is just up there. We have to stop anyway, I want to make Bratwursts tonight. Will Spike eat? I could get him Blutwurst if he would like that better."
Buffy felt a small surge of pride, at least she knew "Blutwurst" was blood sausage. Granted, she only knew it because Spike had been enjoying the alternative since their trip had begun. "Yeah, he'd definitely like," Buffy replied.
(*)
Buffy opened her eyes cursing the last two cups of tea she'd shared with Lena before going to bed. Their dinner had been simple and delicious although somewhat subdued. Emil had emerged from his room again just long enough to grab a few of the giant pretzels and a couple of beers before closing himself up again in his room.
The unease was written boldly across Lena's tense shoulders. Buffy laid there remembering the despondent look on Lena's face as she had explained to her and Spike how Emil had raised her after their parents sudden deaths in a car accident. Seeing him so torn up was really having an effect on Lena too.
Buffy huffed, trying to push the thought out of her mind and patted the bed next to her. Empty. Which she really should have expected and was only mildly surprised to find. It was likely Spike had gone back downstairs to poke around.
She padded down the short hall to the guest bathroom. The apartment was quiet and an eerie glow from downstairs told her that Spike must be watching television with the sound turned down. The flickering light reflected on the walls providing just enough light to see where she was going.
As she was coming back out of the bathroom she heard a muffled sound coming from Emil's room. It was clear he hadn't been handling the breakup well.
She was about to head back to the guest room when a second, louder cry came from Emil's room, cutting through the stillness of the apartment.
On instinct, Buffy crept toward the room, adjusting her tank top as she went, and pressed in close to the door. There was a very slight shuffling sound on the other side accompanied by desperate muttering she couldn't understand. The muttering grew louder until it morphed into a deep guttural yell.
Buffy threw open the door to find Emil pinned to the bed, head rolling from side to side on his pillow as a haunting creature crouched on his chest.
It was the size and general shape of an eight-year-old child, but its skin was a sickly pale gray with an odd texture that made Buffy think of a shark. The long black hair on its head was plastered down, as if it had just come up from the depths of an oil-coated lake, and its eyes— Buffy had seen some frightening things before, but those eyes—
They were large great black holes that looked as though they could consume someone's soul with a glance. An endless abyss of insanity-inducing horror, completely devoid of humanity.
Evil.
"Hey, Creep-show!" The creature turned those bottomless eyes onto her and she set her jaw in determination. "Saw your portrait today, it really didn't do you any favors!" She quipped as she picked up a trophy from the dresser and threw it at the creature's head.
Despite her perfect aim, the trophy never made contact. In an instant, the fiend morphed into a mass of swirling black sand that twisted through the air before shooting out the window. Buffy twisted to call for Lena before she rushed toward Emil.
Spike came running from downstairs just as Lena rushed in wearing a long T-shirt. "What happened?" she panted.
Emile was shaking and tried to sit up, leaning on his elbows. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a free hand. "Are you all right?" Buffy asked.
Emil nodded his head shakily. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake everyone. Bad dream— a nightmare—" he muttered apologetically.
Buffy moved back towards the door, biting the inside of her cheek, and caught Lena's eye. The creature they were after had just attacked him and got away. How do you catch and kill something that can turn into swirling sand?
Email pulled the covers off of himself sitting up in bed as Lena went over to him. "What did you see?"
He looked up at her curiously before answering her in their native tongue.
Lena rolled her eyes, unimpressed with his answer, and turned toward Buffy. "That was it, wasn't it? Is this thing after my brother now?"
Buffy straightened her shoulders and pointed to the window as she explained what had just happened.
Emil's face went white.
Spike leaned against the door jam where he stood next to Buffy. "Bloody hell should've seen that one coming, course… It makes sense, sand, and everything. A right nasty Mahr we've stumbled on."