Chapter 2:
Buffy could still feel them, surrounding her. But there were too many, she couldn't pinpoint exactly where they were coming from. She should have listened to Giles more, honed her instincts. She had thought they were pretty damn honed but now she was being hunted by three Spikes and all she could tell was that he was around. She should have done less freaking handstands.
She landed lightly in an alley, she just had to get a few more blocks and then she would be –
Smack!
A piece of 2 by 4 smashed into her face, her nose spurted blood and she fell back, landing harshly in a disturbingly wet spot in the alley. Yet another Spike loomed over her. This one was different again. His hair was a stark black and slicked back. He wore a dark black leather coat and a black button down. And was that a swastika on his arm? Her eyes widened as he raised the plank of wood above his head.
"Slayer!" he growled.
She managed to block but the wood crashed into her forearm, and she felt the bone crack. She cried out, pulling her arm back towards her. He raised it again, but she kicked out, her boot connecting with his hand and knocking the wood it. It bounced noisily on the concrete. He growled again and leaned down. She kicked out again, but he caught her foot and gave her a smirk she knew all too well. She felt his hands hard and tight against her ankle and tied to pull it free but his grip was too strong. She watched almost in slow motion as he bent his knees, saw his upper body tense and he twisted. Her leg twisted painfully in his hands, her body lifting off the ground and he spun her with a roar. She crashed into the brick, a crack ascending from where she had hit. Her whole body ached, and she fell to the ground in a mangled heap. She coughed on dust and blood, turning quickly onto her back and crawling backwards. Her arm screamed at her and she clutched the broken limb to her chest. She had to get away. She couldn't take him injured, not like this.
"Oh, come now, Slayer," he taunted. He stood back as if waiting for her to stand. She hauled herself up, leaning against the wall. "It's no fun if you don't want to fight." He pouted at her.
"How?" she asked, inching back. She could see a door behind her, she just had to get to it without him noticing. The door was large, metal. Hopefully with a lovely lock on the other side that would give her a few precious seconds to flee.
"How what?" he asked, cracking knuckles. Blood was running from her nose and she tried to sniff it back. He eyed the blood with glee, watching it trek down over her lips. He inhaled deeply, shaking his head back.
"How are you here? How are they here?" she inched back further, her good hand finally grasping the handle of the door, she pushed slightly. It gave way easily. Open. She didn't think he had noticed, too busy posturing.
"Don' know," Spike answered truthfully with a shrug of his shoulders. "Was trapped on a submarine with a bunch of ponces when time went all wonky and I was asked if I wanted to kill a slayer."
"So you didn't ask any questions?" she stalled. "Maybe one like 'why'?"
He slipped into game face. "Don't rightly care. Slayers taste so sweet."
She pushed back hard. The door opened, and she felt the open space behind her like a life line. She slammed the door with both hands and just about screamed with pain in her wrist, before she mangled the lock. She heard him beating on the other side. It wouldn't take him long. She looked around the room. Storeroom. She had no idea which, but it didn't matter. She took off through the darkness, slamming another door behind her as she heard the tell-tale crunch of metal under strong fists.
Bu that was okay. She was only a few streets away now and unless another one dropped out of the sky, she didn't think he could catch her. Though she realised, she was limping slightly. Her ankle surely bearing the marks of his fingers. She burst out of the store and looked around. She knew where she was now. She saw the sewer entrance. They couldn't know their way around yet surely. She pulled the grate and dropped down, hauling the cover awkwardly behind her. She made sure to walk through the dirty water that lined the bottom of the sewer hoping it would be enough to cover her scent. Running from Spike in dirty sewer water, this was not making it onto her greatest hits album.
She rushed though the sewers, slightly turned around, not knowing them as well as Spike did. Usually, she realised, he led when they were in the sewers. She followed him. She was pretty sure she was nearing her final destination though. She saw a familiar ladder and climbed it slowly, trying to balance herself with one hand.
She pushed the manhole cover loose and she popped her head out warily. She could see the lights of 1630 Revello Drive. She jumped up and out, casting her eyes around as she made her way up the street. Her wrist was swollen and throbbing painfully, so she kept it held tightly against her chest, desperately trying not to move it. She kept her other hand over it, trying to calm the rushing blood. She wriggled her fingers and gasped at the pain. That was still going to be stinging in the morning. Her feet hit grass and she realised dully that her neck wasn't tingling but she eyed the large tree out the front warily all the same, half expecting another Spike to jump out at her.
She rolled her shoulders as she walked slowly towards steps to her home. She was safe. And it was just hitting her now, how much her whole body hurt, not just her wrist. Her adrenalin was settling now, leaving over the stark reminders of her fight with four different Spikes. She needed Giles. This couldn't be happening. Four of them roaming the streets out for her blood. She couldn't help the shiver of fear that went up her spine. One was fine. One she could put down…probably. Sure, she'd never actually properly staked him, but he'd never beaten her before either, but four? Yeah. She really needed Giles.
She hobbled up the steps, the porch light illuminating her way. She had barely made it up the final step when she heard him.
"Buffy!" Riley called, emerging from the shadows of her porch. She startled slightly and sighed. She wasn't sure if she was relieved to see him or not. He was alive at least. He hadn't thought he could play hero and take out a Spike or two. Boy, would that have ended badly for him.
Riley moved forward, his hands reaching for her face. She hissed as his fingers brushed over fresh bruising. "Are you okay?" His face was awash with concern but his large hands were uncomfortably warm against her skin.
"I'm fine." She glanced behind him, trying to peer through the window. "Is my mom asleep?"
"What?" he asked stunned. He looked behind himself quickly and then back to her. "Why would you-"
She shrugged. "I apparently look like hell and I don't want to worry her…" she trailed off. She couldn't see movement. The downstairs was dark, hopefully her mum and Dawn were already in bed. She couldn't worry her mom anymore. She only just got home, she didn't need to know about any of this, worry about any of this. She limped forward, her body sore. "I just need to have a shower. Did you call Giles?"
She pushed away from him, swiping his hand from her side as she looked for her keys. They were still there thankfully, buried at the bottom of her pocket. The pocket where her stake was meant to have been.
Lesson the first, a slayer must always reach for her weapon.
God, why did he have to be right?
She turned the key slowly, trying to keep quiet as she snuck inside. Riley followed close behind her. He shut the door.
"No-" he started, but she shushed him harshly, pointing upstairs. He rolled his eyes. "No," he repeated in a whisper all the same, "I was waiting for you."
She nodded, too tired and sore to be mad that he hadn't followed her instruction. He was looking at her strangely, worry etched on his face. He looked her up and down frantically. "Come on," he said gently. "I'll get the first aid box." He reached out and grabbed her hands and tried to pull her gently towards the couch. She gasped and pulled her arm back protectively to her chest. She hissed and scrunched up her face. He looked at her alarmed, his hulking figure invading her space as he tried to help her. One hand rubbing her shoulder while he tried to coax her to let him see her arm.
"It's broken," she said bluntly. "But it'll heal fine." She looked up at him pleadingly and what she hoped was reassuringly. "Really I just need to have a shower and call Giles to let him know what is going on."
Riley crossed his arms, his stance wide. He was cast in a shadowy glow, half of him still catching the porch light, the other bathed in blackness. It distorted his features, mangling his face. "What is going on?" he asked. "What has Spike done?"
Buffy sighed and leaned against the banister. "I don't think he's done anything," she said. "He didn't seem to know how he got here anymore than I did."
Riley snorted. "Yeah coz Spike would never lie."
Buffy felt the odd need to defend Spike but she bit down on her aching lip to stop herself. Yeah, Spike could be a bit devious and try to scheme but he never quite pulled it off. Never quite managed the fully convincing lie. He was telling the truth in the alley, she knew it. He really had just jumped at the chance to kill a slayer. She rubbed at her forehead and her hand came away bloody.
"I need to shower," she repeated and slowly made her way up the stairs, treading carefully to make as little noise as possibly. Riley clomped up behind her, nipping at her heels.
"You're hurt," he said, far more loudly than she was comfortable with. "I'll help you."
She didn't answer, just made her way to the bathroom. He followed her in, closing the door behind her. He flicked the light on and she looked away as the harsh white light hit her eyes painfully. Ok. Add concussion to the list.
She rolled her eyes at his back before turning to look at herself in the mirror. She almost gasped. Her lip was puffy, her eye purple, her face was splattered with blood and her chin was drenched it in, dry flakes were hanging off her lips. The top of her nose was probably twice the size it normally was and she bet she was going to have a double shiner before it healed completely. She rolled her shoulders and felt her back muscles protest. She could feel the bruises under there.
She began to carefully shrug off her coat, sucking back harshly as pain reverberated up her broken limb. Riley rushed forward; his hands gentle as they stripped her coat from her. She smiled at him gratefully as he pulled the sleeve down her arm, doing his best to keep the pressure off her wrist. He helped her with her shirt and gasped as he saw the bruise at her back. It was deep purple and mottled, almost black in places, and extended from her back, up the sides of her ribs.
"Buffy," he breathed, his fingers trailing lightly over her tender flesh. His eyes were wide. She never really saw this bit, she realised. The stab wound sure, she had to, but never the bruises. They were often gone by morning anyway. She turned herself to look at her back in the mirror. Okay, she thought. That one might not be gone by the morning. Regular Sunnydale nasties didn't tend to hit as hard as Spike did.
"How did Spike do this?" Riley breathed, his hands skimming lightly over her. He was shocked. Appalled even. His gaze made her uncomfortable.
"Steel capped boots," she answered. "And great aim for the kidneys." She shrugged. She didn't want to get into this discussion now. She started on her jeans, using her good hand to flick at the buttons.
"Let me," Riley said, distracted from his questions in his need to help her. She sat on the edge of the bath as he unzipped her boots, revealing a bruised ankle, great, and she leaned against him as he helped her shimmy out of her jeans. He started the shower as kicked off her underwear, and then slid her bra down her arms. He barely glanced at her. He picked up her clothes and boots, bundling them against his chest.
"You shower," he said. "I'll call Giles and get you a change of clothes."
She kissed his cheek. "Thanks," she whispered. He nodded and moved out the room. She stepped over the side of the bath and under the spray. She turned the hot water up a bit, Riley had it a bit cold. She stood under the spray, feeling the water strip the blood and grime from her skin. Red water swirled at her feet, fading to a muted pink and finally clear water circled down the drain. She scrubbed at her body lightly, feeling all the small dents, bruises and grazes. Her ribs were bruised, her ankle sore, wrist broken. She could feel her eye opening freely now though. The swelling starting to reside. She pushed her tongue against her lip and tasted fresh blood. Nope, that one was still fresh. She dragged shampoo and conditioner through her hair with her good hand awkwardly, keeping her battered wrist close to her. It throbbed and pain shot up sharply if she moved it too quickly. Why didn't being ambidextrous come with the slayer package?
She stood under the spray, clean and warm, but sore and tired, until the water started to chill. She sighed and stepped out slowly. Riley had laid a towel down and she scrunched her toes in the soft material, droplets collecting in the fabric. She hadn't seen him do that. She smiled lightly at the gesture. She wrapped a towel around herself slowly, tucking the top of the towel in. She looked in the mirror again. Her hair needed a brush, but she looked better now. Some of the bruise had been the muck and dirt of the sidewalk apparently.
The house was thankfully quiet and dark as she slipped back into her room. Riley was sitting waiting on her bed. He had the first aid kit out and had got out her favourite pyjamas. He helped her into them and then patted the bed beside him.
"Can I have a look at your arm?" he asked. She nodded and sat next to him. She held her arm out to him slowly and he grasped it gently. He ran his fingers down along the bruised limb, feeling the bump where her body had swollen around the break. "I think it'll set okay," he murmured. She knew that. She had told him that. "But I'll wrap it," he said. "Just in case."
She just nodded and watched as he wound a bandage around the break, carefully manoeuvring so she didn't have to. Once he was done, he reached back in to the first aid kit, pulling out a variety of Band-Aids. "I think your eye…" he trailed off as he looked at her, "has probably already miraculously closed enough to not need this." He waved the butterfly plaster in air, slapping it lightly against his palm. "It did before."
"Slayer." She shrugged. She yawned, cracking her lip again. Riley rushed around, getting a thin bit of gauze and pushing it to her lip. "Did you call Giles?" she pulled the gauze from his hand, dabbing at her lip herself. It'd be fine soon.
He nodded, dropping his hands self-consciously. "He'll be by in the morning, said "oh my" a lot and "and we thought one was bad"." He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
"Here?" she said startled. "Not the Magic Box?"
He faltered. "I didn't think you'd want to move a lot," he explained. He pointed to her ribs. "Your side."
"It'll be fine by the morning," she assured him. He looked at her doubtfully. "Really. Like I said, he's kicked me before."
Riley nodded, looking down at his hands. He didn't move to stand up. He just stared at his hands.
"So," she started, "I should get some sleep." She nodded her head to the pillows behind her.
"Right," he answered, jumping into action. Cleaning up the first aid box and pulling down her comforter so she could slide down beneath the covers. "I'll be back in the morning then?"
He looked at her shyly, almost hopefully. Buffy nodded. "Sounds good."
He kissed her forehead lightly and turned to leave. He looked like he wanted to say something else but thought better of it. She snuggled down under the covers, feeling her ribs protest feebly at the motion. Riley turned off the light. "Goodnight," he whispered.