Title: COME BACK TO ME (1/2)

Author: Nishia

Rating: NC17

Summary: Spike, Angel & Giles are forced to work together to bring Buffy back from Hell.

Distribution: Ask and Ye shall receive Disclaimer: Everything is Joss's. Joss is God.

Acknowledgements: I wrote this story in reply to Inamorati's "Ghostbusters" challenge. I had a bit of trouble finding a reason for the guys to work together but I think it works. I hope it does.

Spoilers: This story takes place some time after "The Gift"

Feedback: smpchris@aol.com



CHAPTER FIVE

He awoke, for want of something better to call it since he realised immediately that this was another dream, with a start. A swift glance round told him that this time was different. This time he was not in Giles’s living room as usual, but somewhere cold and dark and barren, musty smelling and damp like an underground cavern or a rock fissure. He shivered unconsciously.

"Buffy!" He called loudly, not wanting to waste a second exploring his new surroundings. Struggling to his feet, he made a few stumbling steps forward before the hands, which made their appearance frighteningly quickly this time, grabbed at him and forced him to the ground. Again he called out, louder this time.

"BUFFY!" Nothing. Frantically, he began to thrash against his captors, hoping to find a small weakness in the creatures defences that would allow him to escape.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN KEEP ME FROM HER?" He screamed "WELL YOU’RE WRONG. I WILL FIND HER. I’LL FIND HER AND I’LL TAKE HER AWAY FROM HERE, AND WHEN I DO YOU WANKERS ‘AD BETTER WATCH OUT COZ I’M GONNA RIP EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU TO FUCKING SHREDS!!!"

In his weakened state, the outburst left Spike feeling drained but he wouldn’t give in. Buffy needed him, he had to find her. He had to.

Ignoring the pain he felt as claws tore deep, bloody gashes into his flesh, he continued to fight until he was finally able to break free. His freedom however, was short lived. He made it little more than five steps before once again finding himself in the creatures grip.

Choking back the sobs that were threatening to spill, tears of fear and frustration, the blond vampire stopped fighting. There was no point anymore. He just wasn’t strong enough.

Miserably he began to wonder why he was here. He hadn’t been able to save her the first time, no matter how hard he‘d tried. What made him think he could do it now? And why had she come to him anyway? Everyone knew she still pined for Angel. Maybe it was his grief she had needed, not him. She knew how much he loved her, maybe she had used that against him. Maybe she’d used him to get to Angel. The thought made his heart hurt.

As his last ounce of strength deserted him, Spike’s body fell limp, and he allowed himself to be dragged along the cold hard ground to Satan only knew where. What were they going to do to him? He didn’t know, he just hoped that it would be quick.

After being hauled up to his feet, he was surprised to find himself released but he was much weaker than he’d realised, and unable to remain in his upright position for more than a few seconds. His eyes slipped slowly shut, he swayed from side to side a little, then crumpled to the floor.

"Did you honestly believe that HE would be the one?. Look at him. Look at how pathetic he is, how broken. I should put him out of his misery like a wounded animal." A low voice rumbled.

"NO!"

Spike’s eyes flew open at the sound of the second voice, his gaze darting back and forth, searching. She was here. He couldn’t see her but she was definitely here.

"Buffy."

"Please don’t hurt him anymore."

Suddenly, his strength began to return and all of his earlier doubts melted away into nothingness. It didn’t matter why she had chosen him, it just mattered that she had. He wasn’t going to let her down again. Somehow he managed to pull himself up to standing, and he took one tentative step forwards.

"STOP HIM!" A loud growl echoed through the air, and while it‘s owner remained invisible, Spike could now see the creatures who had been torturing him for so long.

Thirty, maybe forty of them, big nasty bastards they were. About eight feet tall, whitish grey in colour and completely hairless. Their bodies glistened, even in the darkness and Spike knew from experience that they were slimy and cold to the touch. They smelled too, of sulphur, strong, really strong, like a lit match if the match were as big as the space needle. How had he not noticed that stench before? Easy, his senses had all been attuned to her. All he’d been able to smell since that first night was cherries and almonds.

He recognised the creatures, though he couldn‘t give them a name. He’d seen them before somewhere, had he fought one of them at some time, he couldn’ t remember, but he definitely knew them. The name would come to him later, if he lived ‘til then.

All at once, they pounced on him, teeth biting, claws tearing at his clothing and flesh, snarling, and wailing in a tone so high that it made his ears hurt, but he wouldn’t give in to them, to the pain.

Summoning his demon, and using every ounce of strength he had left in his body, Spike began to fight back.

The first creature, collapsed at his feet after a spinning kick to the side of it’s ugly, bald head and was despatched with a heavy boot to the centre of it’s face which pushed it’s nose back into it’s skull. A second creature, suffered a similar fate after trying to grab him from behind only to find itself on the receiving end of the vampire’s elbow.

With a feral growl, he leapt onto the back of a third creature, reaching around his neck and crushing it’s oesophagus with his forearm. When the creature fell, Spike fell with it and was able to grab the feet of a fourth, toppling him to the ground where he proceeded to tear out it’s throat with his own claws.

Creature number five met it’s end when, after draining a small amount of blood from the fourth, Spike found an extra burst of speed. Flying across the room, he speared it, knocking it so hard into the wall that the back of it ’s head shattered, sending brains and skull fragments flying.

In a flurry of feet, fangs and fists, Spike was able to rid himself of several more of his attackers, but by now, the demons, who’s name he still couldn’t remember, had mounted a more competent defence, and Spike, who’s lack of sleep and lack of nourishment had left him uncharacteristically vulnerable, was finding it hard to keep going.

Two of the creatures lifted him up, pulling at him from either side so that he thought they might rip his arms from their sockets, then tossed him over the heads of the others. He hit the wall with a loud crack, his shoulder dislocating, his neck snapping forward then back quickly, causing the vampire to yelp in pain as he slid to the ground.

Spike was momentarily still as he tried to regain some of his composure but before he could do anything he was once again flung across the room. This action was repeated several times. He was sure he’d broken some bones on his last landing, he’d heard the crack, but by now his consciousness was fading and he was too numb to feel anything but the most vicious pain.

Drawing in an unneeded breath, the blond called into the darkness, hoping that the one who had ordered this, was still there.

"Go ahead! Kill me if you want. It won’t make any difference. I…She has friends, who know where she is. If you kill me one of them’ll come, and they’ll keep coming. You can’t keep her."

The owner of the voice he’d heard earlier was apparently still present. Spike was released, and loud, angry whispers that he couldn’t be bothered to listen to, filled the cave.

After a short time, the demons were on him again, pulling him, dragging him. He was thrown against the back wall of the cave and pushed up, the tender flesh of his partially naked back, scraped raw on the rough surface.

He did his best to get away from them but his strength was gone and the pain was getting worse, though whether this was due to his feeling returning or the demons escalating their attack, Spike couldn’t tell.

Finally, unable to continue his fight, the vampire began to drift once more into unconsciousness. His vision blurred, his head spun, nausea swept over him in waves and with what he thought was a dying prayer to the powers that be that his sire was stronger than he was, he let his eyes slip shut, without ever seeing the stake that was pressed against his chest.


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