Summary:
Originally written by Alexandria Brown.
Spike and Dawn piece (not sexual - big brother/little sister thing) Someone takes something they shouldn't. Spike gets pushed too far. Character deaths. Mention of rape. Very dark. Very violent.
Notes:
This was written by Alexandria Brown and was recovered through the Wayback Machine. Aside from some formatting done to make it easier to read, this has not been edited.
This story was marked as To Be Continued and is not a finished work.
Chapter 1:
The cloying smell sickened even him, blood and death drenched about him on every side. Glassy eyes took in the scene, not quite believing what he was seeing, not yet convinced it was real, even after witnessing it with his own eyes. He had been coming to sit on the back porch, taking up his lonely vigil yet again, what was it now, a day, a week, a month. He blew out the cigarette smoke, focusing only on that question, narrowing his world to just that one thing. An old trick. A way to force his mind to stop, to step back, to separate from when the horror around him became too much. He counted back slowly. One week, two weeks, three weeks. Three weeks and three days. Three weeks and three days of coming here to sit wreathed in shadow and mourn the only woman he dared call friend. Three weeks and three days of keeping silent guard, of ensuring that her youngest child did nothing foolish. Three weeks and three days of protecting them from the demons that had come hunting, sure that now the Slayer would be weak, now she would be vulnerable. Three weeks and three days of silent wars far from judging eyes.
But he had been unprepared for this. He had slunk around the corner, creeping in the shadows as he always did now. The open door shocked him. They knew much, much better than that. Just because he could no longer enter didn't mean there weren't other creatures about to whom the open door was invitation enough. He bolted up the stairs, sharp words poised on the tip of his tongue when the scent of blood slammed into him like a fist, the muffled screams reaching his ears a missing heartbeat behind.
Stunned, he saw the blood slowly running down the hall, rich, thick, the smell of the witches rising to him. He threw himself towards the open door, battering against the invisible barrier, screams pulled from his throat.
"Slayer, Slayer," No mocking, no hate, just blind panic. Panting, he ran to the front of the house, vaguely registering all the cars. They must have gathered again tonight, must have been trying to find some way to pull the youngest from out of the pit she seemed to have fallen into.
He pulled up short at the scene framed in the window. Willow's head tilted at an impossible angle, Tara's mouth joining hers in an obscene kiss, blood still dripping from their slit throats. Growling now, louder and louder as he stalked towards the door, desperately hoping that somehow the spell hadn't survived their deaths. He slammed to a stop, frantic as he heard the fighting going on inside. He just managed to dodge out of the way when a large body hurtled through the door. His mind registered a name. Xander. Then he was turning away as the head hit the sidewalk, a sick wet thud as the skull cracked apart. Spike ran and crouched next to him, hoping against hope that there was something, anything that could be done. Dark eyes met his and Spike just barely caught the words as the last breath was exhaled.
"Spike, help" then nothing, eyes glossing over, brains mixing with the blood coming from Xander's head. Spike's mind catalogued the body quickly. Skull shattered. Knife wounds to the face and arms. Gun shot to the stomach. Hissing now, rage building and burning inside him. His to kill. No one else's. No one touched them but him. The sounds of struggle grew louder and he turned back to the house, just in time to see Giles slam face first into the window, an ax buried in his skull. No time to spare on that though, not when he could see the Slayer, still fighting, still struggling to the last. She was drenched in blood, whose it was impossible to say. She was viciously attacking some dark figure, dodging the knives in the being's hands.
"Slayer, invite me it," the scream ripped from him before he could stop it, realizing a split second later that the distraction could kill her.
"Come in, come in, gods, help us, please, Dawn, Dawn, Dawn," terror ripped the words from her mouth as she fought on.
He was moving before the first word had fallen from her lips, moving inhumanly fast, tearing up the stairs, heading for the child's room, leaving Buffy behind, knowing she could fend for herself. Knowing that the child could not.
Two men there, carrying the limp body between them. He flung himself onto the first, dropping down in a howling rage as pain seared through his mind. Humans. These were humans. Humans who had done this atrocity. The men simply ignored him and continued to carry their burden down the stairs. Spike glanced up just in time to see the tattoos wrapping around their necks, then fell back to the floor, crawling behind them, trying desperately to move through the searing pain. He watched, detached, as they paused briefly on the stairs. A hand reached into a coat and he saw the barrel of the gun.
"Buffy," a desperate scream, warn her, had to warn her.
She turned her head just as the trigger was pulled. Spike watched as that beautiful face vanished in a haze of red. She dropped like a rock to the ground and the man she was fighting stepped back. He joined the others as they headed out the door, Dawn now cradled in the largest man's arms.
Spike crawled down the stairs, dragging himself over to the remains of the Slayer's shattered body. Gone. They were all gone. Caught in a moment of weakness, trapped like rats. He duly registered the trail of bodies. Anya the first, caught as she opened the back door. Then the witches, trapped trying to perform some chant of protection. The broken door frame through which Xander's body had flown. Giles sprawled face down on the couch. And the Slayer. Dropped like so much cattle, her blood still pumping from the remains of her face.
Spike pulled himself upright, staring at the ceiling. Humans. He lit a cigarette, desperate for something to do. He recognized the tattoo. A cult that worshipped some snake god. They must have been hunting her for months waiting until just the right moment when her guardians would be weak. A snort of disgust. They spent so much time protecting her from the demon realm they had forgotten about the evil that dwelled in man. They had watched. They had waited. They had struck. They had taken Dawn.
Spike felt the rage spiral higher and higher. He knew what they had in store for her. Taken for her youth and purity. To be debased and defiled then sold into slavery where she would surely, surely be killed. And killed harshly. They had attacked. They had taken Dawn.
A buzzing noise filled his ears as he howled into the night, impotent fury at his helplessness. The anger burned in him, hot as the sun. Higher and higher the fire built, the buzzing growing with each moment, with each furious thought at just what he would do if he could, just how he would make them pay. The hoarse howling of his voice mingled with the burning in his brain until it was all just a sea of red. Louder and louder, higher and higher, until he burned with a white hot heat.
Suddenly, the world went quiet. He felt something snap deep, deep inside him. It felt like a switch suddenly being flipped off. Quiet. Perfectly quiet and still. The buzzing had stopped. He reached a bloody hand up and ran it over the back of his skull. The buzzing had stopped. The faint sound of the chip audible only by its absence. Gone. Stopped. Done. Broken.
He tossed the cigarette aside and tore down the street as if the Furies themselves were at his heels. The chip was broken. He was free. Free to main and kill. Free to take his revenge. Free to hunt them down. He was free. And they had taken Dawn.
****
He crouched in the bushes, watching and waiting. He had tracked them here, to this old house on the edge of town. Circling down in an ever tightening pattern, he quickly determined there were twelve men. Dawn would make lucky number thirteen. The chosen one to complete the ritual. The fire flicked in the pit behind the house, the altar already set. He set his jaw tightly, ignoring the sounds coming from the bedroom. Twelve men. Each determined to have his turn.
Spike knew the ritual well. The leader of the cult first, taking her virginity as his own prize. Then the rest would follow after in the order of their joining. She would be tied to the bed, gagged, painted red with the blood of her fallen family. His stomach twisted and he pushed the thought aside. Now was not the time for that. Now was the time to plan. He only had a few hours until the sun rose and they brought her down to complete the ritual. He saw the snakes tangling together in a writhing mass under the altar. The snakes that would be draped over her battered body. Spike forced back another growl. Now was the time to plan. Now was the time to call upon all his decades of skill in the art of torture to take true revenge. They had taken Dawn. They would pay.
He eased into the door, senses heightened to razor edged perfection. He could see everything clearly, could smell the sick scent of them on her skin, could hear them moving about, could taste the metallic tang of her fear, could feel the coldness of the steel in his hands. He moved up the stairs with preternatural grace, waiting for the first to emerge from the room. They were foolish, they had set no guard, satisfied that their long dead god would protect them. He smiled coldly at their folly. He pressed against the wall at the top of the landing, melting into the shadows as he saw a man stagger from the room. He followed him down the hall, watching the man head for the bathroom. Perfect. No need to alert the others quite yet.
The man slumped against the wall, leaning as he pissed into the toilet, yawning a little from the exertion of the night. Damn but she had still been so tight, so very, very tight.
It was only the hand that suddenly clamped over his mouth that kept the screech of agony from reaching the others. His eyes grew wide as his penis fell into the bowl, blood spurting everywhere. He started to collapse, only to be yanked back to his feet. A demonic visage greeted him as his torment grew and grew.
"Least of what you deserve. You're lucky, mate, rest won't have it this easy." Fangs pierced his neck and he struggled weakly as the remainder of his blood was quickly sucked away.
Spike stepped back, easing the body to the floor. One down. Eleven to go. The thick, hot taste of human blood taken from a living victim sang in his veins, strengthening him even more. He moved back down the hall, watching the door carefully. He listened closely, blocking out the sounds of her sobbing. Not yet. Not yet. He wouldn't let himself feel it just yet. If he did he would simply tear into the room, killing them both. No. Not yet. He watched as three men emerged, one heading down the stairs, staggering slightly, the other two heading towards him and straight for the bedroom door behind his back. He eased the door open, just enough to enter, then moved to stand pressed flat against the closet door.
The men entered the room, the first calling back over his shoulder, "Only about 1:30, still time to catch the end of the movie," he flicked on the light, then froze. A man stood there, fire blazing in his yellow eyes.
"Don't think you'll be watching anything, ever again." One step, then a loud crunch as Spike easily snapped the man's neck. He whirled and ripped open the second man's throat, the scream of warning dying in Spike's mouth. He gulped down the blood, then pulled the bodies into the room, turning on the television as he did so. There, the normal noise the others would be expecting. He slid back into the hallway, pulling the door mostly shut, damning the sliver of light that remained.
He crept down the stairs, hearing the man moving in the kitchen. "Hey, Bob, Steve, you guys want a beer," the words grew louder as the man came around the corner, a bottle raised to his lips. Spike grabbed him by the throat, beer spilling out of the man's mouth and cresting over his hands. He pulled the struggling man out the front door and across the yard, moving steadily towards the old rake half hidden in the weeds. The man fought to scream, unable to do so through his broken throat. He began to gag as his larynx swelled, cutting off his oxygen. Spike marched him onward, moving faster now, determined to reach his target before the man died of suffocation. He raised the body over his head and dropped it down, impaling the man on the tines of the rake. He watched as the man squirmed, death coming at him from all sides. Finally, all motion stopped. One last look, then Spike brought his boot heel down on the man's face, shattering the bones.
Duster flying behind him, he ran back to the house, hearing her heartbeat begin to fade, just a little. No time for all he had planned, no time to make them pay as they should. He had to get there, had to reach her, had to stop them before she broke completely. He moved unerringly towards the living room, knowing just where their weapons would be. He grabbed two pistols, checking to make sure the clips were fully loaded. No time for stealth now.
He paused at the foot of the stairs, coming to a quick decision. Draw them out, then drop them as they came at him. He forced his face back to human form. Let them shoot all they wanted, as long as the bullets weren't wood he would take all they could hand him. He was gorged on blood, losing some wouldn't hurt nearly as much now. With no hesitation he raised a hand and placed three quick shots into the ceiling.
They came pouring from the room, half dressed and utterly confused. The light from the cracked door and the moonlight coming through the windows weren't nearly enough for them to see what was happening.
Spike shot them like so many targets. One. Two. Three. The bodies began falling down the stairs, perfect round holes in the center of the skulls. He stalked forward like the angel of death. Four. Five. Six. Stupid, stupid, stupid, still coming towards him, making it easier still. Ten down. Two to go. He moved smoothly to the top of the stairs, dropping the emptied guns behind him. He wouldn't need them now.
He stepped into the room, dropping and spinning as he did so. The ax sailed over his head, embedding the blade firmly in the door. The man wielding the ax let out a guttural cry as Spike spun behind him, yanking the knife across both Achilles tendons. The man dropped to his knees, unable to stand. Spike continued the spin, rising as he did so, the knife spinning to land squarely in the leader's chest. Spike rose, ridges prominent on his face. He yanked the squirming man off the floor, holding him in the air. He tilted his head to one side, curiosity getting the better of him. He always had wondered what true evil looked like. He stared into the monster's eyes, then growled, disappointed. The monster looked like just another human. Just another meal. Spike dropped him to the ground, then leaned over the man, rubbing his forehead along the man's cheek.
"Picked the wrong little girl to play with. See, mate, that one's mine. Like family to me, she is. And I protect what's mine." He growled deep in his chest, then pulled the other knife from his boot. "Think I'll just feed her your heart." He slammed the blade down, the serrated edge ripping through the flesh. The man's screaming covered the sick scrape of metal on bone. Blood gushed like a fountain into the air, spurting in time to the rapidly fading heartbeat. Spike turned his back to the bloody mass, moving straight for the leader.
Spike threw his head back and laughed as the man slowly tried to raise the gun to him. "Hard to aim when you're shaking like that. What, that little penknife hurting you some?" He grabbed the gun away as the man began to chant some mad litany. Spike knelt next to him, leaning down to whisper in his ear.
"Go right ahead, mate. Don't think your god's going to listen to you now. Should be careful when you muck about with demons. One might just come to visit." He licked the man's neck, relishing in the shudder it produced. He stood back up, finally turning his attention to the still figure on the bed.
She was unconscious. Spike swallowed as tears came to his eyes. She was so pale, blood crusting around the handcuffs around her wrists and ankles. He whirled back to the man on the floor.
"Key." The tone of his voice held the promise of infinite pain.
The man raised a shaky hand and pointed to a box on the small dresser. Spike retrieved it, then gently undid the locks. He settled her on the bed, pulling the dusty blanket over her.
"Clothes."
A nod to the closet and Spike yanked the door open. As he thought, there were a number of outfits, all in Dawn's size. All to her taste. They must have been watching her for months. He chose the most comfortable looking one and gently dressed her, careful to touch only where absolutely necessary. When he was finished, he dropped down to rest alongside the quivering body.
"Not going to die yet, mate. Takes quite some time to die from internal bleeding. Think I missed your heart by accident? Not quite. Hit your intestines, I did. You'll be dead in a bit." Spike moved back to the bed, pulling the still form into his arms. "Just want her to see first."
Dawn slowly opened her eyes. She went still, confused, unsure of where she was. The memories struck her all at once and she began to scream. She vaguely felt arms wrap around her and she shrieked louder and louder.
"Hush, ducks. Spike's got you. Killed them for you, never hurt you again. Nothing will ever hurt you again, hush." He stroked his hands down her back, trying to calm her.
The sound of Spike's voice penetrated her terror and she threw herself into the cool embrace.
"Are they all," she choked out. "Buffy, too?" She was just sitting in her room, staring into space when the men burst into her room. They overpowered her in seconds, tying her up. Then, they proceeded to tell her exactly what they were going to do.
Spike tightened his grip, tears falling from his eyes. "Yes, pet. Sorry, couldn't stop it. Tried, but, so sorry." He stopped, knowing no words could ever be right, no words could make it easier. "Have something for you, though."
Dawn pulled back, frowning as she felt the blood on her face. Her eyes went wide as she looked at Spike, blood covering him from head to toe. "How, how did you find me?"
"Followed your scent. Took care of the wankers for you, all but this one. Thought you might want to do that yourself." Spike watched her closely, seeing the traces of shock in her eyes. He pulled her over to the edge of the bed. The leader lay there, shivering as the pain rattled through him.
"You fucker," the words spilled from her mouth as a look of unfathomable hatred crossed her face. "You fucker."
"Thought I would turn him, let you stake him when he wakes," Spike's voice sounded in her ear.
"You can do that?" Dawn breathed out, turning to look up at him. "But what about the chip?"
"Seem to have buggered it somehow." He felt the blood pounding in her veins as she stared down at the beast.
"Oh." She continued to stare, then her face set into a look of fierce determination. "No, Spike, I don't want you to turn him." She looked up, staring him straight in the eye. Spike took a sudden step back, every instinct screaming to get away from such a deadly creature. "I want to do this all on my own."
She reached down and yanked the knife from his chest, drinking in the immense scream of agony. Blood spurted out, covering her in its dark warmth. She stared at him for a long moment, then slammed the knife into his chest, directly into his heart, all the times she watched Buffy train finally being put to use. A gasp, a gurgle, then he was dead.
Spike reached out and took her hand. "Come along, then, nibblet. Have to get going, sun's going to be up soon and I want to find you a nice place to stay." Somewhere she can bathe all she wants, get her some food, bloody hell, have to stop at the crypt and pick up some dosh, the thoughts scattered through his mind as he led her down the stairs, carefully picking their way through the bodies. He settled her into the front seat of the DeSoto, for the first time wishing he could belt her in. He turned back and ran quickly to the side of the house. He dropped a match, then dashed back to the car.
"Spike, why did you come," the quiet voice broke his heart. He turned to the shattered child next to him and a faint smile touched his lips.
"All we've got left is each other now, baby girl. Not going to let that go." He started the car and pulled away, leaving the house blazing behind them in the night.
Chapter 2:
She pressed her head into the coolness of the window, concentrating fiercely on watching the trees go flashing by. If she just stayed here, just kept living right in the now, in the present, in each breath that she took, if she thought about nothing but that, then she would be fine. The glass was smooth. The car smelled of stale smoke. She liked the smell, it was comforting, it smelled like him. She never told Buffy, but he made her feel safe, somehow she knew that when the chip came out, he would never come for her. She started to shake at the thought of her sister. Gone, they were all gone. Her mother, Giles, Tara, Willow, gone. All gone. Xander was going to let her drive around the parking lot at the mall this weekend, he had promised. He had promised.
"Liar," the quiet whisper shattered the stillness in the car. "Liar," the words a little louder as she began to shake. "Liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar," a low mantra, repeated over and over as she began to rock. "Liar, liar, liar, liar,"
Spike swerved to the side of the road and threw the brake. He turned to pull her into her arms, to try to settle her. He could hear her heart pounding frantically in her chest, the beat too fast, too shallow, she couldn't be getting enough oxygen in her blood. Her breathing was erratic and she was growing paler with every second.
"Liar, liar, liar, liar," the words blurring together into a meaningless sound.
"Pet," Spike reached out, heart breaking at the sound. His weakening control over his emotions frayed as she jerked away, eyes darting over his face, not realizing who he was.
"No, no, no, hurts, stop, stop, please," the babbling grew louder as she tried to shrink into the door. "Hurts, hurts,"
Spike gathered himself and reached out yet again. "Dawn. It's me. Spike. Breathe for me, pet. Just breathe." Some faint recognition hovered behind the panic in her eyes and she allowed him to run his hands down her arms. "That's it. Just breathe. Spike's here. Safe now. Think. Remember, did you see them? Not going to hurt you again. Nothing is going to hurt you ever again." He gathered her in his arms as she finally burst into tears. "Not while I can help it. Nothing will ever touch you." Truth burned in his bright eyes.
She snuffled into his chest, soaking up the comfort. "Spike," his name wavered from her lips. "Why are you helping me?" She pulled back as Spike hesitated. "It's because I'm the Key isn't it? You just don't want to get caught in the backlash." The bitterness of the words washed across her face as she turned, fumbling for the handle. "Well, don't worry about it, I won't tell anyone, besides, isn't the Key supposed to be innocent and pure? Not that anymore, so not much of a worry there." She yanked the door open, tumbling out and landing flat on the ground. She tried to stagger up, but her legs wouldn't stay steady under her. She let out a strangled cry as the pain slammed into her, the gouges around her wrists and ankles a blessed diversion from the burning between her thighs. She whimpered, feeling the blood coating her legs. It hurt. It hurt so much. She sank back down, resting her head against the metal of the door. It just all hurt so much.
Spike slowly walked around the front of the car, watching her closely. He slipped out of the duster, placing it gently on the hood. He bent down, carefully lowering himself until he was eye level with her. Slowly, slowly. The words pounded in his mind. Slowly, no sudden moves, let her see your hands, see you aren't going to hurt her.
"Luv, I'm helping you because I want to. Not because I have to. Like you, you silly bint." He smiled a bit, trying to coax a matching touch to her lips. She simply stared at him, eyes rimmed red. The smile died from his lips and he looked dead at her, letting all his hard-earned guard drop away. "You and your mum. Treated me like family. Not something I take lightly, that." He moved closer and this time she reached out to him, blindly seeking his touch. She settled into his arms and he stroked a pale hand down the dark hair. "Treated me like family. And I take care of what is mine." He rocked her back and forth, hearing her calm, feeling the trust as she slowly fell asleep in his arms. He gathered her up and settled them back in the car. He cast a wary eye at the sky. Only a few hours to sunrise. And they had to be gone by then.
****
Dawn woke as he settled her on the floor, the tile cold on her back. She looked around, startled. She was in Giles' bathroom. Why were they here? Why not the crypt? Why not her house? No, her eyes widened at that the horror creeping back in. Not the house, couldn't go back to the house. She clenched her hands together, battling back the panic rising in her.
"Thought you might want to clean up a bit. Have to hurry though, police will probably be here soon." Spike leaned in the doorway, pointedly looking away from her and at the ceiling. It was a risk coming here, it was only a matter of time until all sorts of official investigations began. The scene at the Summers house would be impossible for even Hellmouth residents to ignore. He closed his eyes, wishing fiercely that he could risk their staying here so that Dawn could at least have the closure of the funerals. But if they were going to disappear, they had to disappear. But he needed to pick up a few things first. "Do you have any clothes here?"
Dawn nodded, raising her head to look at him. "Yes, I always keep a few here in case we end up staying over. The closet in the spare room."
"I'll just go fetch them for you. Probably want a bath, but I don't think we have time. Don't mean to rush you, pet, but we really need to get moving." He wanted to be on the road again as soon as possible. There was a little out of the way dump of a motel that they could reach just before the sun rose. As long as they were out of here within half an hour. "I'll just leave them outside the door." He turned away, startled when she reached out and caught his wrist.
"Please don't leave me," Dawn ducked her head, shame flaming her cheeks. "Just, promise you won't leave me here." Her hands clenched tighter, desperation fueling her strength.
Spike turned back and gently tapped her on the nose. "Not going to leave you. Just have to gather some things. Just hop in the shower and I'll get us all packed up." Her hand slowly let go and he pulled the door mostly shut behind him. "You just call if you need something."
He moved quickly, gathering her clothes and placing them outside the door as he promised. He could hear her frantically scrubbing at her skin and he suppressed the urge to go in and stop her. He could smell the blood and he smiled grimly, the inhuman scent clear now. He moved back through the apartment, grabbing two small duffel bags from the closet in the bedroom. He filled one with Dawn's remaining clothes, then the other with any small, easily fenced item that he could take without making it obvious it was gone. He didn't want the apartment to look pilfered. He moved to the kitchen, loading the few remaining bags of blood into a cooler he pulled from under the sink. Not that they were necessary any longer. But he wanted to have them handy, not sure how Dawn would react to his hunting. He reached into the tea tin and pulled out the small envelope buried under the bags. He flipped through it quickly. Approximately four hundred dollars. Into the living room, through the books, straight to the three he wanted. He placed them in the bag with Dawn's clothes, then pulled a chair over from the dining room table. He moved it next to the tall bookshelf, then hopped up, reaching over the top and searching for the case he knew was there. He pulled it down, then flipped it open. The gun was there, along with two clips. He placed that in the bag with the books. Have to teach her how to use that tomorrow, the thought crossed his mind as he heard the water stop. He paced back up the hallway, making sure that she could hear him coming.
"Ducks, you all right?" He hovered just out of sight of the door, not wanting to startle her.
She opened the door and waved him in. He moved warily into the bathroom, looking her over. She looked tired and very frail, but much calmer. "You were right, I feel better." She opened the medicine cabinet, pulling out a new toothbrush. "I knew this would be here, he's so anal." Tears prickled up again at that, but she pushed them aside. She brushed her teeth, rinsed out her mouth, then stood there with the toothbrush still in her hand. "Suppose I should take soap and stuff."
"That would be a good idea." Spike watched as she opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a plastic bag. She threw in the toothbrush, the extra tube of toothpaste and the extra deodorant. Reaching back under the sink, she pulled out a bottle of shampoo and a bottle of bath gel. "We're leaving town, aren't we?"
"Have to, luv. Don't want Glory finding out you're not dead." The flat words shook her momentarily. Spike watched as her back stiffened, the enormity of the situation finally staring to sink in. She whirled around, grabbing one of the bags from him and headed for the door.
"Let's go. Still have to stop at the crypt and there's only about an hour and a half until dawn." She stalked out of the apartment, Spike on her heels.
Spike kept her hand in his as they walked to the crypt, every sense fully extended. He felt danger around them, the demons who thought that he was still the partially emasculated vampire they had grown to hate. He kept up the low growl, pitched just below Dawn's ability to hear. The growl of warning. The growl that identified her as his and warned off all who would make a move for her. The news of the death of the Slayer had ripped through Sunnydale like a brush fire and every demon in town would be gunning for them. Let them come. They would soon learn.
They made it to the crypt without seeing anything, a fact which troubled him slightly. He moved Dawn so that she was standing with her back pressed to a column in the center of the crypt.
"Stay there, don't move." He pitched his voice low, hovering between an order and a plea. She did as he requested, exhaustion causing her to sink to the floor. He yanked the chest out from under the bed, pulling out the things he knew he would need. Some clothes, thrown into another duffel. Small leather bag, the coins clinking together. Two more books. A thick leather portfolio. This he opened, making sure all the documents were there. He nodded, satisfied. Yes, everything he would need to set them up once they reached their destination. Another leather wallet. He thumbed through this as well. About five thousand dollars there. Enough to keep them going until he could cash in some of the bonds. He closed the chest, pushing it back under the bed.
He pulled out the smaller chest, opening this as well. The weapons glittered in the night. Knives, another gun, a small hatchet. He locked it tightly, then tucked it under one arm. He cast a quick glance around, making sure there was nothing else he would want. Nothing really. Just. He walked over to the chair, then reached down and pulled the picture from under the seat. Joyce and Dawn smiled back at him, arms wrapped around each other's waist. He sighed, infinitely glad he had stolen this oh so long ago.
"Time to go, night awasting." He gathered up Dawn and stalked into the night, leaving the crypt without a second glance. Always best that way, no looking back, no hesitating over what might have been. He took her hand again, pulling her along faster. They were circling now, trying to catch them before they reached the car. He began to run, practically dragging Dawn behind him. He would stop and fight if he had to, but he really didn't think Dawn could face seeing any more blood tonight. He shoved her into the car, diving in after her and peeling into the night. He heard a loud roar of frustration behind him, but he didn't look back.
Spike settled her on one of the twin beds, gently placing a blanket over her. She had fallen asleep almost as soon as they began driving and he didn't want to wake her. He pulled the curtains tightly shut, draping a towel over the window as added protection. He tugged on the other bed, moving it closer to the far wall. He surveyed the room again, checking carefully to make sure that it was as sun proof as possible. Couldn't take any chances. Had someone else to think about now. He settled down on his bed, leaning against the wall, watching her sleep. He lit a cigarette, frowning slightly as he smoked. Would they be bad for her? Didn't know. Wasn't really human, so maybe not. But had a human body, so maybe would. He finished it quickly, setting the thought aside for later. Maybe he would just smoke when she wasn't there. He growled lowly at that. Not that he planned on letting her out of his sight any time soon. She was far, far too fragile for that. He sighed, letting his head rest on the wall, staring at the ceiling. He just hoped he would be able to nurse her through this. He had no idea no idea just how he was going to help her heal from all this. But he had his first step firmly in mind. Get her as far from here as possible.
He stirred slightly, pulling the bag over and opening the portfolio. Still had that house on the lake. He smiled slightly. She would like it. The smile deepened. And no one knew he had ever been there, not even Angel. He already had their cover story in place, wishing for a moment that this was still the England of his youth where he could simply say that she was his ward and that would be that. Not now, not in the day of instant access to all information. He slid a finger under the edge of the envelope, breaking the wax of the seal. Inside were the plans he and Joyce had made, the last contingency, the final barrier against leaving that precious child all alone in the world, the last gasp against ultimate horror. He ran a finger down the words, the smoothness of her handwriting a double-edged blade of happiness and pain. Her letter to her child. He placed it aside, then pulled out the rest of the papers. New birth certificate. A passport. School records. Medical records. All as unreal as the ones created for Dawn in the first place. Stock certificates. The numbers to the accounts Spike had set up for her in the Caymans. All perfectly in order. Some pictures, a sketch. A note for him. He trailed his fingers on the envelope, then placed that away. Time for his grief later. Right now, right now he had a child to guard. He watched her sleep, mind racing as he made his plans. Get them to the lake. That was first. Get her there, then worry about the rest.
"Don't worry, Joyce. I'll keep her safe." Spike spoke quietly, sending the quiet oath drifting heavenward.
Chapter 3:
She slowly came awake, quivering as the pain moved through her body. Her wrists and ankles ached, the marks from the cuffs burning. Her thighs felt like they had been beaten with a bat and between her legs, between her legs, it burned. She curled into a ball, tiny whimpers escaping her. She rocked back and forth, back and forth, trying to lull herself back to sleep, back to the nothingness and dark. She didn't want to be awake, didn't want to be alive. There was no reason she should be any more, everyone she loved was gone. And they were dead because of her, her fault, her fault.
Spike moved to kneel next to her bed, flinching back from the small strips of sunlight that were coming in through the window. "Pet, you awake? Are you hungry, can get you some food, I'm sure." He stretched out a hand to pull the blankets away from her face.
She jerked away the second his skin touched hers, eyes opening wide as she scooted back on the bed. "Spike, no, not hungry." Dawn forced herself to meet his eyes, still clutching the blankets around her. "Where are we?" She cast a quick glance around the room. It was shabby but clean.
"About half an hour east of Sunnydale. Little out of the way place no one will ever think of looking." Spike rested back on his heels, searching her face for signs of pain. Her heartbeat was still a little thready and her breathing was just slightly off. He stood and headed for the bathroom, coming back with a glass of water and some aspirin.
"Take these, it will help." He stood there, holding out the glass and aspirin until she finally took them. A quick nod, then he settled back on his bed.
They sat silently for several minutes, Dawn trying to gather her thoughts, Spike waiting to see what she would do. He had spent the previous night watching as she slept, atlas open on his knee. He charted a course in between listening to her toss and turn, ready to reach out if she started to dream. Go east, slowly working their way north as they did so, further and further across the vast expanse of America. It still amazed him that this country was so large, so huge. Even driving all night it would take them four days, maybe five to get to the lake. But he wasn't planning on driving straight through. No, they were going to take some time. Stop in some of the larger cities, places where he could make the necessary arrangements. Let her choose how far and how long they would go each day, stop if she saw something she liked. He was sure that she would need the distraction. Maybe the Grand Canyon, he mused. He always wanted to see that.
"Are we going to go back?" Dawn picked at the blanket, working a string free, concentrating fiercely on her actions.
"Can't, luv. Too dangerous. Glory will be sure to look for you there. Besides, if we go back there will be all kinds of questions, sure the police will be looking into this. Don't think you really want to go through that." Spike reached for his cigarettes, keeping his voice neutral. There was no way he was letting her go back, if he did so, then she would be taken away, put into some kind of home, sent to live with strangers. She wouldn't survive a week.
Dawn leaned against the head board, drawing her knees to her chest. She started rocking again, weighing his words. She wanted to go back, she needed to go back, she wanted to see them, but she knew Spike was right. She couldn't go back. She could never go back.
"Are we going to L.A., is that it? Taking me to stay with Angel?" She looked over at Spike, not wanting to hear the answer. She wanted to stay with Spike, he would keep her safe, she knew that.
"No, pet. Too dangerous there as well." Spike blew a stream of smoke at the ceiling. No way there were going to L.A., not with Darla back. And nowhere near Dru. She would come after Dawn just for the sport of it. There was no way that he was letting any of them near Dawn. He tossed the atlas over to the bed. "There, where I have marked."
Puzzled, she picked up the maps, turning to the marked page. "Michigan? Why are we going to Michigan? Have you even been there, I don't know anyone who lives anywhere near there." Her hands started to shake when she realized what she just said. Not that she actually knew anyone anyway. The only people who thought they knew her were all dead. She didn't even have the diaries of her imaginary life to hold onto anymore. She fought back bitter tears at that.
"I was there years ago, one of the times that Dru took off on me. It's quite nice where we're going, set a little off the coast, on the shore of a lake, quite pretty." And no one knew that he had been there. That was the most important thing. It was only a matter of time until someone or something realized that Dawn was still alive. If they put that together with his absence, then they would be sure to go looking for them at Spike's usual spots. Let them. They would be hundreds of miles away. They would never think to look for them in a tiny town far away from the bustle of city life.
"Why don't you go get cleaned up, put the bag with your clothes in the bathroom. We should be going soon." They had been in the room for over twelve hours now and they were still far too close to Sunnydale for comfort.
Dawn shifted off the bed, clutching the blankets around her as she shuffled into the bathroom. Spike heard the firm click of the lock as she pulled the door shut behind her. He sighed, gathering up the belongings scattered about the room. So far, so good. Now he just had to get her to eat. His stomach growled at the thought of food and he pulled his last bag of blood from the cooler. Cold blood. Tasted even viler now that he tasted fresh blood once more. A smile played on his lips. He hadn't felt this strong since, since, since he couldn't frankly remember. No more restraint, no more hesitation. He was back to being the Big Bad. And woe be to any that crossed them.
He frowned, wondering how Dawn would react when he went hunting. She was raised to believe that he was evil, would she be able to set that aside or would he have to watch his back? He stopped, staring at the ceiling, idly listening to the sound of the shower. No, she wouldn't stake him. She certainly had better opportunities before now. He supposed he would just have to trust her. His head snapped around when the smell of her blood suddenly filled the room.
"Dawn, Dawn," he burst into the bathroom, easily snapping the lock. He ripped back the shower curtain, terrified of what he would find. She was sitting on the edge of the tub, blood dripping down her legs. "Hells, what happened?"
Dawn slowly turned to face him, shivering and paler than ever. "I don't know, I was just standing here and then it hurt," tears slowly trickled down her face. "It started to hurt so bad." She doubled over as the cramps hit her again. The flow picked up and Spike quickly bundled her in a towel, watching all the color drain from her face.
"Where does it hurt, luv?" He damned himself for asking, for making her say the words.
"Where, where, they," she buried her face in his neck, unable to speak. The towel slowly turned pink as Spike sank to the floor.
"Best get you to hospital, ducks. Need to get you looked at." Spike held her firmly as she attempted to yank away.
"No. There's no way that I'm going, they'll just ask me questions, Spike, don't make me go." She grabbed at his arms, shame causing a slight tinge of color to return to her cheeks.
"I'll think of something to tell them. But you're going." His tone of voice left no room for doubt. He leaned over and handed her a shirt. "I'll let you get dressed. If you need anything, I'll be just on the other side of the door." He pulled her hands away, trying to remember the name of the clinic near here. The one that was known for its discretion.
****
Spike leaned against the wall, nervously tapping his foot. Dawn fought him the whole way there, until he finally simply clamped a hand over her mouth, ignoring the sting when she bit him. He carried her through the doors, then held her into a seat by pressing down on her shoulder. They had taken her back into an examination room, not allowing him to accompany her. That was nearly an hour ago and he was getting antsy.
"Mr. Brody?"
Spike's head turned, steeling himself for the news. "That's me, mate. How is she?"
The doctor led Spike over to the side of the room, drawing him into a more secluded alcove. "She'll be fine, at least physically. She sustained some tearing, that was the source of the bleeding. We needed to place some stitches. She'll be sore for some time, but the stitches will dissolve so you don't have to worry about her needing them removed."
Spike clenched his hands, barely reining in his rage. Stitches. There. He didn't even want to consider how much that would hurt. "Did you give her anything for the pain, so help me if you hurt her."
"We gave her a tranquilizer before we started. Now, I have some questions for you. I understand from what you told the nurse that you are her guardian?" The question was not quite an accusation.
"Yes, her mum passed on a few months ago. Her father hasn't been around for years." The prepared lie came quickly to his lips.
"I see. And I am to understand that she went out with some friends earlier and you found her sitting in the shower, bleeding." Again, the stare burning through him.
"Yes." Simple answers were always best. That was the key to lying. Keep the story as close to the truth as possible and never give any more information than necessary.
"She refuses to say who did this to her. She won't allow us to call the police. Technically, since she is a minor I am required to do so no matter what she wishes. However, she became so hysterical at the suggestion we were forced to sedate her. Do you think that perhaps you could convince her otherwise?" A small sigh at that. He knew what the answer was going to be.
"No, it was all I could do to get her to come here. Finally had to just carry her out the door." Spike met the doctor's eyes, faint glimmers of yellow flickering across his own. "But, trust me, you don't have to worry about the bastards who did this."
The doctor stared back at him, then slowly nodded his head. "That's what I thought. She should be coming out from the sedation shortly, I'm sure that you will want to be with her. Here's a prescription for some antibiotics. We've also given her the appropriate dose of birth control pills."
Spike's eyes narrowed as he followed the doctor down the hall. He hadn't thought about that. "Does she know all this, she doesn't like being treated like a child." He stopped short as he entered the exam room. She looked so young, lying there curled slightly on her side. Far, far too young for all that she had seen. A low growl came from him, pitched just below their ability to hear. She looked so innocent like this. He would do anything, anything to give that back to her.
"Spike, stop that." Dawn raised herself on her elbow, wincing at the sting of the IV in her elbow.
"Stop what, luv?" Spike watched as she swung her legs over the bed, letting her get out on her own, but ready to steady her if she wanted.
"The growling," Dawn whispered as she walked over to him. "Do you want everyone to hear?" She picked up her jacket and turned to the doctor. "Can I go now?"
"Yes, I've given Mr. Brody your prescriptions. Take it easy for the next few days, if you need an excuse for school I'll be happy to write you one. Other than that, I want you to see a doctor in about a week, just for a checkup." He followed them as they walked down the hall, Spike hovering protectively behind Dawn. He reached out and grabbed Spike's shoulder, turning him around just before they reached the doors. "And I can't say I blame you for taking care of this yourself. There are certain kinds of justice that the law just can't give."
Spike just stared at him, then a vicious smile curled one corner of his mouth. "I have no idea what you mean, doc." An arch of an eyebrow and then he spun and followed Dawn out the door. Time to leave. They still had about three hours until daylight and it was time to move again. If he remembered right, there was an all night pharmacy just up the street. Get her prescriptions filled and then get the hell out of Dodge. It was time to go.
Chapter 4:
"I'm hungry."
Spike's head snapped so quickly to look at her that the crack sounded loud in the car. Since they left the hospital two nights before Dawn hadn't said a word on her own, she only answered when he directly asked her a question. And even then her voice was nearly impossible to hear and her answers were monosyllabic. And it had been a vicious battle to get her to eat anything. He tried to keep the thrill out of his voice, best to stay calm, he didn't want her to know how worried he was.
"Well, I'm sure that we can find something shortly." He was sticking to the back roads and old highways, they were much less likely to run across anyone hunting for them that way. The only problem with that was that there wasn't an exit with every imaginable fast food place every two miles.
"Some place we can sit down," Dawn turned to look over at Spike. "I kinda want a break for driving. My ass is getting sore."
Spike smiled a little at that. "Don't say ass. S'not proper." He supposed it wouldn't hurt anything to stop for a little bit. They were making good time on their way to Phoenix and besides, there really wasn't any rush. And besides, he clenched his hands tightly on the wheel, he was getting very, very hungry himself. It was two days since he last fed. And the craving was starting to be almost irresistible. He sighed. Looked like it was getting to be time to cross that bridge. He had no idea how Dawn was going to react now that he was going to start hunting again.
Dawn sighed and shifted on the seat next to him. "Like you're one to talk about not swearing, I've heard you when you get hurt you know."
Spike snorted. "Yeah, well, do as I say and all that." He saw the sign up ahead on the left. A truck stop. That would be good. And from the number of trailers parked out front, it was a good one. If there was anything Spike learned from all his travels, it was how to judge the quality of truck stop food. Ah, yes. He could find just what he was looking for here.
They walked in, Spike's hand protectively on the small of Dawn's back. This was the first time that she had been out in public since they fled and Spike wasn't sure how she was going to take it. The sign said to seat yourself and Spike steered them for the booth in the back. Fighting all his instincts, he let Dawn sit with her back to the wall. He hated not knowing what was coming up behind him, but he figured she could use the unconscious security of being in a corner.
Dawn looked around, eyes a little too wide, taking in all the people. She dropped her head down, shaking slightly. As stupid as it was, she couldn't help but feel they were all staring at her. Stop it, a little voice in her head whispered over and over, stop it, no one's staring at you. She jumped when the cheery voice sounded above her.
"Well, good morning to you two, you're out awfully late aren't you? I'm Adele, I'm your waitress, if you couldn't figure that out on your own." The waitress smiled down at them, sizing them up underneath the pleasant tone.
"We're on a long trip, just needed a little break." Spike tried to keep his voice pleasant. Gods, this was going to kill him, trying to act like a human of all things. But it was essential that he do so. He had to keep up the charade, at least in public. The more normal he acted, the less questions they would get.
"Then I'll just get you some coffee while you're deciding what to have. Would you like something to drink, honey?" She turned to Dawn, softening her smile. That child was so pale, she looked like she hadn't seen the sun in days.
"Coke, please." Dawn chanced a little glance up. There, that wasn't so hard. She could look at someone else.
"Sure thing, darlin'. I'll be right back." She turned and strode off, calling good naturedly over to some of her regular customers.
Spike handed Dawn a menu, then glared at her. "Now then, I want you to get something hearty. You haven't been eating enough lately and you're thin enough in the first place."
"Okay. I really am hungry." Dawn flipped open the menu, gazing down. "How about waffles, is that good?"
"That's fine, but you should get some meat, too. You need the protein." Spike lifted an eyebrow at the puzzlement on her face. "What?"
"How do you know what I should eat?" Dawn was genuinely curious.
"Please, pet, I was human for a while. Besides, I studied to be a physician, once upon a time." Spike grinned at the look of shock on her face. "What? Don't think I have the wits to do it?"
"No, not that," Dawn stuttered out, "It's just that you never, well, you never talk about what you were like before, before. . ." she trailed off, not wanting to upset him.
"Before I was turned," Spike finished quietly. "Well, it's hard to remember sometimes, it was a long time ago." The lie came easily. Actually, he remembered it quite well. It just hurt too much to discuss.
"Oh," Dawn paused as their waitress came back.
"Have you decided," she asked, pad in hand.
"Yes, I just want more coffee. She'll have the waffles with strawberries and some sausage." Spike glanced over at Dawn who nodded slightly.
"You sure you don't want something, hon?" Adele cast a practiced eye over the vampire. "You look awfully skinny there, you could use some meat on those bones."
"Yeah, you could. Why don't you get some waffles, too?" Dawn just looked at him with those big eyes and he sighed. This wasn't good. She had him wrapped around her little finger. And she knew it.
"Fine. Waffles for me too." Dawn looked pleased and Spike smiled. Damn her. He was going to have to work on building up some immunity or else she would walk all over him.
Adele winked at Dawn and then turned away. "Back in a jiffy."
Dawn pushed the remains of her waffles around the plate as she watched Spike flare his lighter yet again. That made the seventh cigarette since they sat down. And she knew that he didn't normally chain smoke. "Spike, what's wrong?" She was getting worried. Especially since his hands were shaking.
"Nothing, pet." It took all his self control to get the words out calmly. Being around all these humans was driving him insane. His demon was howling for blood, he couldn't stop his hands from shaking and he was growing dizzy with hunger.
"No, something's wrong, what is it?" Dawn pressed on. She was getting scared. If something happened to Spike, then she would be all alone. She trembled at that thought.
"I said, nothing. Now drop it." Spike growled his reply. He wasn't about to tell her what the problem was. He wasn't going to scare her like that.
"Spike, you have to tell me. Is there anything I can do?" Her voice grated in his ear, the worry causing him to ache. He didn't want to hurt her.
"No." His nostrils flared and he sized up the man who was walking out the door. There. Just what he was looking for. "I have to go outside for a minute. I'll be right back." He stalked away before Dawn could say another word.
The man headed for the cycle parked in the corner of the lot. Everything about him screamed loner, from the way he walked to the hardened leather he wore, to the scar running down his face. Spike smiled grimly. Perfect. This was a man who wouldn't be missed.
"Hey there, mate, have something of a proposition for you." Spike stepped next to the man, making eye contact and holding it.
"And what would that be?" The man blinked at the vampire, trying to place him. "I don't know you."
"No, you don't, but I figured you might have something I need." Spike swayed in a little, willing the man to speak.
"Oh, I see." The man cast a quick glance over Spike, taking in the leather duster and the faint air of menace. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."
"I think you do." Spike slipped a hand into a pocket of the duster and pulled out a small wad of bills.
"How do I know you're not a cop?" The man eyed him carefully, licking his lips.
"Did you see me in there with the girl? Do you think I would bring a child if I were a cop?"" Spike tilted his head, then smiled, trying to seem as trustworthy as possible.
"Good point. Not here, though, a little too public, c'mon." A hand dropped into the pack the man was carrying as he led the vampire around the corner of the building.
"So, how much do you want?" The words died away as Spike slammed the man's head into the side of the building, knocking him out cold. He couldn't afford for anyone to hear a struggle. Spike spun the man around and lowered his head, biting down hard. He drank quickly, the blood singing in his veins. This, this was how he was meant to be. He caught the body as it fell, then carried it around to the dimly lit back of the truck stop. He smiled when he saw the mostly full dumpster. Perfect. He efficiently dismembered the body, then stuffed the pieces into some bags he found there. He tossed the bags into the dumpster, then stopped to rinse his hands and face from the hose coiled on the ground. He stalked back to the parking lot and took hold of the motorcycle. He quickly pulled it into the woods, then pushed it down the bank of the small hill, hearing as it crashed on the rocks at the bottom. There. That should take care of the obvious evidence. By the time anyone found the man was missing, they would be long gone.
Dawn sat staring blankly at the wall, waiting for Spike to return. She wasn't sure why he was even bothering to try to hide it. He went outside to feed. Of course, he did. That's how it would be now. She played with the salt shaker, spinning it in her hands. She wondered why it didn't bother her. Well, it bothered her a little bit, but not a whole lot. She trusted Spike. He wouldn't just go around killing any and every one. She was sure of that. Besides, she had gotten a good look at the man he followed. He wasn't a good man. In fact, Dawn's face crinkled at the thought that sudden hit her, he was a bad man. He had killed someone the night before. Someone who tried to cheat him, she frowned, trying to puzzle it out. There was some kind of fight and he pulled a gun and shot the man. She knew it. She couldn't say how.
"Darlin' can I ask you something?" Adele was back, looking down at Dawn with a concerned expression.
"Sure, I, I guess." Dawn kept looking at the table.
"Are you okay? Are you with that man willingly? Because if there is a problem I can just take you in the back until we can get the police." Adele patted Dawn on the arm.
"What?" Dawn finally looked at her, shock on her face.
"Please, honey, it's fine. He doesn't look like the most trustworthy person I've ever seen. And I am pretty good judge of character. If you don't want to be with him," Adele stopped as Dawn's face grew dark.
"He's my friend. How can you say something like that?" Dawn heard her voice grow louder and she sucked in a deep breath, trying not to make a scene. "He's my guardian, he's taking care of me now that my, my family is gone." Her voice trembled a little, but she continued on. "He's like my brother, and I know he looks mean, but he's not, not really. How can you say that, you don't know him, he would never hurt me." A note of hysteria crept into her voice and she started to stand.
"Shh, shh, I'm sorry I said anything, it's just that you looked so scared sitting there I just wanted to make sure." The waitress pressed Dawn gently back into the booth. "I'm sorry, I guess I should know better."
"Know better than what?" Spike asked as he slid around her to sit back down. He glanced over as Dawn leaned back.
"Then to ask if I wanted dessert," Dawn replied, trying to lighten the mood. "It doesn't go too well with waffles."
"I should think not." Spike snorted as the waitress smiled at him, then put down the check.
"You take care of that little one there, she's a sweet thing." She patted Spike on the arm, then walked off.
"C'mon, luv, time to get going. I want to get going, I would like to make it another 75 miles before we stop for the day." Spike dropped some money for the tip, then headed up to pay the bill. Time for them to get back on the road. He wanted to get to Phoenix soon. There was a lot to do once they got there.
(End of fic)