Chapter 46: Sleeper

July 4, 2003

The Watcher named Robson was still reading his book when he let himself into his flat. It was a venerable old tome written by the Venerable Bede, actually, and it had some nice bits about the nature of mystical power. He looked up from his reading and froze for just one instant.

Hel . . . lo?

Then he proceeded straight into alarm mode. The furniture was tipped over; a broken vase lay in shards—signs of a struggle, and he with a Potential to protect.

"Nora? Nora?" he called, searching the place for signs of her.

He crossed into the next room and what he saw stunned him for a moment into inaction.

No, he thought, please, God, no.

Her dark braid like a hangman's noose draped over her neck, Nora lay unmoving on the floor. She had been stabbed in the back. There was blood, and no signs of life.

My Slayer, he thought, grieving, disregarding for the moment that she had not been Chosen.

A rushing sound alerted him that he was not alone; he turned around as a hooded figure in a black robe rushed him, a scimitar-shaped dagger in his hand. Robson blocked the attack with his valise, the dagger sliding deeply into the side. Then the Watcher palmed the figure in the face and pushed him backward. The figure stumbled.

Taking advantage of the moment, Robson reached for one of the wall-mounted swords, just as another black-robed figure emerged from the shadows and stabbed him in the back.

He collapsed beside Nora, whose life he had sworn to protect, and thought, Just as well ... it's what I deserve for failing her ... as his lifeblood streamed out of him.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The night was damp, and there was a chill in the air. An owl hooted, and tree branches rustled.

Buffy, Dawn, Willow and Harry strolled through one of Sunnydale's cemeteries. Since learning that Dawn was a Slayer, Buffy had taken to training her sister.

Tonight, the newly rising vampire that was Dawn's assigned practice target was middle-aged and in his burial suit . . . and bursting halfway out of his grave.

"It's about power," Buffy said as they watched him. "Who's got it. Who knows how to use it?" She tossed a stake to Dawn, and Dawn caught it. "So, who's got the power, Dawn?"

"Well, I've got the stake," Dawn said tentatively, raising it a tad for emphasis.

"The stake is not the power," Buffy shot back.

"But he's new," Dawn argued. "He doesn't know his strength. He might not know all the fancy martial arts they inevitably seem to pick up."

"Who's got the power?" Buffy pressed.

"He does." Dawn was grumpy.

"Never forget that," Buffy said, going to her. "No matter how well prepped you are, how well armed you are, you're still a girl."

"But …" Dawn started to remind her sister she was a Slayer but Buffy put her finger to her lips and then motioned toward the vampire still struggling to get out of his grave. Dawn understood why as Buffy didn't want the vampire to know he would be facing a newly called Slayer.

"He's a vampire," Buffy reminded her. "Okay? A demon. Preternaturally strong, skilled, with powers no human can ever—"

"Excuse me," the vampire said. "I think I'm stuck."

Buffy and Dawn both glanced over at him. His smile was pleasant as he indicated his predicament.

"You're stuck," Buffy deadpanned.

"My foot is caught on a root or something," he continued, a bit sheepish. "I don't even know how I got down there. If you girls could just give me a hand . . ."

Dawn couldn't resist a . . . well, dig. "So, he's got the power."

Buffy rolled her eyes. She had to agree in this instance that Dawn was right that she had the power. She could easily stake him now and there was nothing much he could do about it. She crossed to the evil demon of evilness-lite.

"I really appreciate it," the vamp prattled. "It's just so dark, and I don't know what I'm doing here—"

While he yammered on, Buffy yanked him up by the collar of his jacket and set him on his feet.

"Whoa, thanks. That was a help." He grinned evilly. "Unfortunately, it was the last—"

Buffy clamped her hand around his throat and gave it a big hug.

"—thing you'll ever do," he concluded in a rasp that sounded eerily like Donald Duck on helium.

"Listen up," Buffy instructed him. "I'm the Slayer. You don't want to get into it with me. You want blood. You can have hers." She gestured to Dawn. "She's not the Slayer." She lied. "She's the one to go after. Not me."

"I was thinking along those lines," Vampire Donald croaked.

"Okay, then."

Buffy let him go and stepped back, essentially quitting the field so Dawn could have a shot. The vampire lurched forward toward her and Dawn got ready to rumble.

"Power," Buffy reminded Dawn. "He's got it, he's going to use it. You don't have it."

The demon rushed Dawn—who opened a portal beneath her and she fell into it, and Donald smacked directly into a tombstone.

"So, you use that!" Buffy said as Dawn exited the portal behind the vampire. "Perfect!"

Dawn scrambled for her stake, leaped at the vamp, and staked the sucker.

He did not dust. Solidly still there, he backhanded her. Like a stuntwoman hooked up to a wire, she flew backward. Blood dotted her lip, and then the vamp was on her.

Harry was about to go help Dawn when he felt Willow hold him back. "She needs to learn, Harry. Even if she never actually faces a vampire alone, she needs to learn. Don't worry, okay."

Dawn slid forward to get free of him, and showed the bad guy the stake.

He jerked back and hissed . . . then promptly grabbed her arm and twisted it until she dropped the stake, wincing with pain.

Buffy hesitated in helping Dawn out. On the one hand she knew Dawn needed to learn this. On the other she knew that Dawn knew what it was like to lose and lose bad. After all Dawn had seen her die to the Master.

He came in for the bite.

"Buffy!" Dawn screamed.

Buffy grabbed his suit jacket from behind. He dropped Dawn, and she went into her moves, kung-fu-Slayer, giving far better than he gave. Then she grabbed the sword from her weapons bag and whacked off his fangy, drooly head.

"Now," Willow said as she released Harry.

Harry ran to his sister and helped Dawn, who had her hand to her neck, up. "Let me see," he said. There was blood; the vampire had started his bite.

"It's okay, Harry," Dawn said as she looked at her brother and smiled. "It's already stopped bleeding."

"It's real," Buffy said evenly. "That's the only lesson, Dawn. It's always real. You did pretty well."

"I did?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah," Buffy said.

Dawn brightened. "With the portal, I was using his strength. It got very tai chi, plus I nearly got the heart."

As Buffy moved to gather up the weapons, she said, "My first time out, I missed the heart, too."

"Seriously?" asked Harry.

"Just the once," Buffy fibbed.

"Yeah, right, baby," Willow said. "Dawn, Buffy missed it plenty of times."

"I figured," Dawn said. "Strength is not enough. Magic is not enough. You have to think on your feet like I was with the portal and the headstone behind me."

"Exactly, Dawn," Buffy said.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Faith kept far enough from Spike to stay off his radar, but close enough to keep up with him. He went to the Sunnydale Promenade. People were bustling down the streets; it was noisy and busy. A street musician played the blues.

And Spike wandered over to a young woman waiting in line to get into a club. He smiled, whispered in her ear, and she walked off with him, hand in hand.

And then, shortly after that, Faith lost track of him.

July 5, 2003

Buffy and Faith made their way to Xander's apartment, found Spike in bed, and yanked him onto the floor.

"Did you kill her?" Faith demanded.

Spike was slowly rousing. "What?"

"The girl. Last night," Faith flung at him. "I caught The First act. I missed the curtain call. Did you kill her? Did you turn her? Is she one of your kind now?"

"Are you following me?" he asked, taken aback.

"Answer the question. Where is she?" Buffy said.

He stood. "Who knows? I certainly didn't off her. Where are you two getting this? You both know I can't."

"Right. The chip," Faith replied.

"No, not the chip!" he said, frustrated. He lowered his voice. "Not the chip, damn it. Do you honestly think I'd go to the end of the underworld to get my soul back and then..." He sighed, shaking his head. "I can barely live with what I did. It haunts me. All of it. If either of you think that I would add to the body count now, you're crazy."

"So, what, you just troll the Promenade looking for drunk co-eds because you're hungry for conversation?" Buffy asked.

Spike laughed. "You're jealous!"

"Not in the least," Buffy said. "Why would I be jealous of you when I'm gay?"

"Well Faith might," Spike said as he began to put on his shirt.

Faith huffed. "Don't flatter yourself. Spike, a vampire told me you sired him."

"And you believe him?" Spike queried.

"I did follow you last night," Faith said, "and you know, you didn't look lonely or casual to me. You looked like you were on the prowl."

"We talked," he insisted, then added, "That's all I remember."

Buffy looked at him sharply. "All you remember?"

"I don't know," he said, sounding less emphatic. "I go out. I talk to people. Or I don't. It's boring. It all bleeds together."

Buffy said leadingly, "Well, if you seem to forget so much . . ."

"Not that," Spike insisted. "The taste of human blood? That I'd remember."

Faith jumped back in. "You were camped on the Hellmouth talking to invisible people. Recently. How can you be so sure what you've been—"

"No. You are wrong," Spike said cutting Faith off. "You've got an accusation from a pile of dust . . . and not a shred of proof."

"So, we'll get some," Buffy told him.

Then Buffy and Faith left the room.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Later at the Summers' house the group debriefed.

Dawn said, "You only think Spike is turning people 'cause that vampire told you so, right, Faith? But that night we were all told things that weren't true . . ."

Willow looked up from the laptop. "Well, just because those weren't the spirits of, you know, our people, just because it was some evil thing, it doesn't mean what they said can't be true."

Anya nodded in agreement. "I used to tell the truth all the time when I was evil."

"We can't assume anything. We need hard facts," Buffy piped up.

"I have to agree," Faith said.

"Missing people," Willow announced, gesturing with her head toward the computer screen. "Maybe eight. Oh, ten of 'em. No bodies. They're just . . . missing. Mostly young, lots of girls."

"It still doesn't prove it's Spike," Buffy insisted.

At that moment the house phone rang Buffy and Faith both got up to answer it. "Go ahead," Faith said.

Then Buffy answered.

"It's me," Spike said. "I'm seeing... I think I'm remembering. I think I've done some very bad things."

"Where are you?" Buffy asked.

"I need . . . I need to see you. There's a house. Six-thirty-four Hoffman Terrace."

"Faith and I'll meet you," Buffy told him as she hung up the phone.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The rendezvous house was a large brick building. Spike let Buffy and Faith in; they headed for the brick basement, Spike in the lead, as he went down the stairs, Faith and Buffy hesitated at the top. "I understand," he said, indicating their unwillingness. "It's a risky proposition."

Faith and Buffy came down the stairs, and he said in a rush, "I've been remembering. The girl. I walked her home. The one you saw, Faith. And the one before that. And I think I killed her. And I think ... I think I killed the lady who lived here. And there might be others."

Buffy stared at him and said, "Oh my God."

He walked to the center of the room as Faith and Buffy followed.

"Here. I—I think I buried them here."

"Spike, why?" Faith asked.

He felt as if his insides were on fire. He was terrified. "Well, I don't know, do I? I don't even know how. Shouldn't be able—"

Suddenly Spike vamped out. He was all fire and fury, and there were the Slayers, meant for killing.

He attacked them. Faith and Buffy had stakes, but he yanked them out of their hands and threw them away.

Buffy reached into her holster and pulled out her wand. He yanked it out of her hand as well. This time he didn't throw it away he snapped it in two.

Faith threw him across the room. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

Spike grabbed a shard of glass and went for Faith, slicing her shoulder. Faith pushed him to the ground.

"Spike, listen to me," Faith said. "You don't want to do this!"

He shoved Faith away as he turned toward something neither Faith or Buffy could see and said, "And it's just about to get fun."

A fist shot through the earthen floor. The ground shifted and cracked as others burst through, fanged faces cauled with dirt through like demonic children struggling into the world. Vampires, all of them . . . murder victims.

They gathered in a ring. They took turns hissing at Faith and Buffy and attacking them.

One of them found a spade and started after Buffy with it. Buffy grabbed and punched him in the face with it.

One vamp grabbed Faith's arm and another grabbed the spade, using it as a pinioning weapon, and even though she fought that off, the second vampire grabbed her arm. She was being held between two vampires, and they held her fast.

Spike stood and walked toward Faith.

"Spike," Buffy yelled as she grabbed him and threw him away from Faith and the other vampires. She rushed him as he stood. He grabbed her and put his face near hers, savoring her, wanting her blood. In a dream he leaned toward her cut shoulder, smelling the fear, the steam from her wound.

He tasted.

Slayer's blood.

Buffy's blood.

Flash: Killing the bird.

Flash: Killing others. Carry a corpse through town. Burying two men.

Killing the lady whose house this was . . .

"I remember," he said, as he recoiled from Buffy and staggered back through the brick arch of the basement.

Faith's vampire captors were distracted. She took advantage of the situation and grabbed up the spade, using it rather like a kendo sword, taking a strong stance, jabbing, thrusting, lunging, dusting vampires with order and precision. Then she swiped three of the vamps' feet out from underneath them.

A single hand tentatively pushed through the earth; Buffy saw her stake nearby and grabbed. She then hoisted the hand and brought the elderly female vampire up. As she staked her, she said, "Sorry, ma'am, but it's my job."

Spike was jammed behind the brick archway, utterly defeated. Faith, carrying the spade, and Buffy moved in front of him. He gazed up at them with misery and resignation, as he scooted out of his hidey-hole, and very purposefully opened his shirt. He was not without dignity; he was crying.

"Do it fast, okay?"

Neither Buffy nor Faith moved.

"He said you'd do it."

Buffy asked, "Who said?"

He didn't have the words. "Me. It was . . . me. I saw it. I was here the whole time, talking and singing." He let out a heavy sob. "There was a song. I don't know. Please, I don't remember. Don't make me remember." Then he turned his head and said to the air, "Make it so I forget again! I did what you wanted!"

"Our big bad is here," Faith said. "So, we weren't the only ones. It has been tormenting Spike." She tossed the spade away as Buffy tossed her stake.

"Oh, God, no, please," he begged, realizing that they were sparing him. "I need that. I can't cry the soul out of me. It won't come. I killed, and I can feel 'em. I can feel every one of 'em."

Buffy and Faith knelt beside him, trying to get his attention. "There's something playing with us," Buffy said. "It came after me and Willow. It came after Dawn and Harry. And it came after you."

"What is it?" he asked her wretchedly. "Why is it doing this to me?"

"We don't know," Faith said.

Spike looked at them with wet eyes. "Will you both ... help me?" he asked. "Can you both help me?"

Buffy said, "We'll help you."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Spike was wrapped in a blanket like a shock victim while the others talked.

Faith and Buffy had just finished telling them about what had happened.

"And you two believe him?" Anya asked incredulously.

"You didn't see him down there." Buffy glanced in Spike's direction. "He really didn't know what he'd done. It wasn't in his control."

"Oh, an out-of-control serial killer," Xander said, dripping with sarcasm. "You're right, that is a great houseguest."

"Wait . . . is he staying here?" Sirius asked not liking the idea of a vampire being in the same house as his godchildren.

"I don't know," Buffy admitted. "But Faith and I agree that we are not letting him out of our sight. That's for sure."

Willow was not so sure. "Baby, he's been feeding. On human blood. That's gotta do stuff."

"We're not keeping him around just to help him," Faith said. "B and I agreed that our big bad was messing with him. Making him do things. it's been screwing with Spike big time."

Xander still needed leading. "So, you both want him around because ...?"

Faith motioned for Buffy to answer and the blonde Slayer nodded. "Look. There's something evil working us, and if we are ever going to have a chance to fight it, we need to learn everything we can about it. This thing has been closer to Spike than any of us."

"And if you want to understand it," Harry said.

Buffy glanced Spike's way. "Faith and I are going to have to get close to Spike."

"Nah, it's too dangerous," Xander argued.

"We don't have a choice," Buffy said. "Whatever this thing is, from beneath us, it's bad, and it's only getting worse."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Robson had not shown for the scheduled meeting of the Council of Watchers, nor had he answered his phone. So, Giles was sent to see if anything was amiss ...

And it was: There was Nora, Robson's Potential, lying on the floor. Her blood was pooled beneath her. Giles knelt beside her and checked for signs of life. There were none.

"Oh, dear God! Robson, are you here?"

Giles got up and searched for his colleague and friend. He hadn't far to look: Robson was half-propped up near a chair in the next room.

"You too?" Giles took off his glasses, tears filling his eyes.

Robson's eyes flashed open. "Gather them," he said with great difficulty. "It's started."

A wave of ice washed over Giles, and then he composed himself.

"It's all right. I understand. I'll take care of it," he assured the dying man.

Then a robed figure snuck up behind Giles, a weighty battle axe in its grip. It swung at Giles...

Author's Note: Yes, Buffy's wand is probably snapped a little too easy. But I wanted her to get a new wand, which will happen in chapter 57, with a core made from something Buffy loves.