For Hate's Sake

By Sersi & Cylla

Site: http://www.dreamwater.net/intervention/

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Season 2 - Spike goes to a witch so he can walk again and winds up being cursed. Special thanks to Marvel Premiere #26 for the idea.



For Hate's Sake

He should never have come to Sunnyhell. It had been his ruin on more than one occasion, all due to the Slayer. His last encounter with her had left him in a wheelchair. How ludicrous was that? A vampire in a wheelchair. He shuddered whenever he thought about it. He had been master of Sunnydale and now he was only a step up from a minion. And he'd lost his girlfriend, lost her to a person he loathed more than anyone else in the world.

Spike wheeled himself into the main room of the mansion. Drusilla was flitting around the room, talking to herself.

"Dru, luv. . . ."

"Oh, my Spike," she sang, gliding over to him, "we have such a wonderful idea!"

"We?"

"Angel and I."

Spike grunted. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Worried about me, Spikie?" Angelus asked, as he sauntered in. He put his arms around Drusilla's waist and kissed her neck.

She smiled and stroked his face.

Spike grimaced and looked away.

Angelus grinned. "Dru tell you about my plan?"

"No." He didn't care.

"Gonna' raise Acathala."

"Who?"

"Acathala. He's big, nasty and opens a portal into hell."

"Gonna' take a vacation, then? Don't hurry back."

Angelus laughed. "I'm not going in."

Drusilla giggled. "We're going to open the gate, my Spike," she said, leaning over him. "All sorts of beautiful creatures will come through. Fairies and gargoyles. . . ."

Spike let the derision show on his face. "Sounds fun."

Angelus paced the room. "Think of it, Spikie, it'll be hell on earth."

"Heard that one before."

"Maybe, but I'm gonna' make it happen."

Drusilla ran to Angelus and threw her arms around him. "Oh, my Angel, we'll have such a grand feast!" He twirled her around. "Everyone shrieking and wailing. . . ."

Angelus wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

Spike groaned and spun his wheelchair around.

"Don't leave on our account, Spikie," Angelus said, grinning.

In the arboretum Spike sulked. He only did this for five minutes before he realized he was turning into Angel. That infuriated him and he growled and knocked a pot of orchids off the table. It smashed into the wall, shattering the container and sprinkling the floor with dirt, pottery and bits of flora.

Spike fumed. Drusilla was flighty and easily lead, but Angelus was the real problem.

"She still loves me," Spike mumbled, sounding too much like he was trying to convince himself.

He glanced down at his legs and the wheelchair. It was his albatross - keeping him from fighting for his womaan, taking what was his.

Everything would be different if he could walk. He wouldn't have let Angelus sidle in and take over if he'd had the use of his legs, and he wouldn't have taken Dru from him.

He could get her back if he could walk.

With that determined, he made a decision.

"What do you wish of me, vampire?" The witch was old, slow, and apparently had the rest of her life to sit and talk.

"My legs. I want 'em to work again."

She gave him a curious look. "Time will heal your injuries, vampire. Why do you come to me?"

"Because I don't HAVE time!" Spike grunted. He wasn't known for his patience and the old hag was wearing him down. He'd been here for twenty minutes and hadn't gotten past the questions and answers stage.

"Patience, they say, is a virtue," she drawled.

"Really." Spike shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Haven't heard that one before."

She seemed to consider this for an interminable few minutes. Spike sighed dramatically and threw his head back.

"Are you willing to assail a task for me, vampire?" she finally asked.

Spike left off his pondering of the ceiling, and said, "Yes, yes, whatever, just get on with it already."

"Very well."

She stood and hobbled across the room. It took her nearly three minutes to negotiate the short passage and return, by which time Spike was squeezing his head in his hands. He'd just started pulling his hair out when she said, "Drink this."

Spike eyed the small vial of liquid. "What is it?"

"It is your cure, vampire. More you need not know." She dropped into her chair across from him. "Besides, the ingredient list might disturb you," she said, grinning.

Spike snorted and tossed it back.

He waited, but didn't feel anything.

"Well?"

"It's not instantaneous," she explained. "Patience is the reward of the -."

"Skip the platitudes and tell me how long."

"Within the hour." She reached for her tea. "You must wait here. If the dose is not strong enough I'll have to give you another."

"Why not just give it to me now?"

"It's not safe."

"Not safe?" He laughed. "I'm a vampire. I can't be killed by some idiotic potion."

"I didn't say it would kill you."

"What, then?"

"There are all sorts of unpleasant side effects." She waved a dismissive hand at him. "The list is too long."

Spike gaped at her. "You couldn't have mentioned that before?"

"Would it have changed your mind?"

He sighed. "No."

She smiled. "Well, then, would you like some tea? It's ever so relaxing."

"No thanks." Spike glanced wearily around the tiny abode.

"Do you like games?" she asked, reaching into a drawer.

"Depends."

She produced a pack of cards.

"It will make the time go faster," she explained, gesturing with the cards.

Spike caught a glimpse of them. Old maid. He groaned.

An hour later:

"Better take the second dose, then," the witch said.

"Fine," Spike said in a clipped tone. "Hand it over." He thought he wanted nothing better than to kill Angelus, then the Slayer, but getting out of this house was now his prime objective. The old crone was going to be the death of him.

Spike choked it down and tossed the vial on the table. He gripped the edges of his wheelchair, prepared to wheel himself outside.

"Now, then," she said, grabbing his chair, "another hour ought to see some results."

"What!"

"You could need another dose. Now -."

"Another dose!"

"Healing potions are tricky," she explained. "I once healed a woman who had a strange skin affliction. You see," she said, leaning back and getting comfortable, "she'd fallen into a cistern. . . ."

Spike groaned loudly and contemplated the ceiling again.

An hour later, the witch pushed herself up from her chair and crossed to Spike, who had long since fallen asleep.

She poked him in the leg with a fork.

"Ow!" He jerked his head up, looking for a threat, only to see the old woman grinning hugely at him.

"Soddin' hell, woman," he said, "you couldn't give me a little tap on the shoulder?"

"It seems to be working nicely," she said, satisfied. She stepped back.

Spike gave her an astonished look, realizing what the pain in his leg meant. "I felt that."

"Yes."

He moved his legs an experimental inch and concluded that they seemed to be in good working order. He stood, cautiously.

"Go on, then," the witch said, gesturing around the room. "Try them out."

Spike walked the short distance back and forth, feeling no pain and no awkwardness.

"There you are, now," she said, grunting and sitting in her chair.

Spike moved to stand in front of her. He was relieved. In his impatience, he'd decided to kill the old hag, but now that it was over he was feeling - not exactly altruistic, but willing too not welsh on his deal. "Okay, then, what do you want me to do?"

"A small thing."

"Which is?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"But, not terribly easy. . . ."

"And . . .?" He sighed. It was like pulling teeth.

"Requiring stamina and patience. . . ."

"Spit it out already!" He was going to throttle her yet.

"An old enemy placed a curse on me many years ago. . . ."

Spike groaned and rolled his eyes. "I'm not surprised."

"It makes me somewhat . . . scatterbrained."

"No kidding." He glanced around the room, then back at her, wondering if he should risk leaving. The possibility that she might curse him wasn't worth it.

"I want to be young and beautiful again," she explained. "But, I've forgotten the spell. . . ." Her gaze traveled lazily around the room, clearly forgetting what she was going on about.

Spike punched her in the arm.

"Oh!" she shrieked.

"Look, if you don't get on with it, I'm leavin' and you can assail yer own task. Got it?"

"My task . . . oh yes." She looked him up and down. "Yes, you seem fit enough, but it will require much endurance. . . ."

Spike groaned and covered his eyes with the palms of his hands.

Spike stalked down the street, a large battle axe swinging from his left hand. The witch thought he might need it and he didn't argue.

He was in a foul mood, but he figured he could get the witch's thing done quickly, then get on to some bloodshed of his own.

He stepped inside the bar. It was filled mostly with demons and vampires. It didn't take him long to find the one he wanted. He would have stood out in any crowd.

Spike strode to the table and stood casually, staring down at the demon. It looked to be seven feet of green, scaley unpleasantness. Spike didn't care.

"What do you want?" the demon asked.

"'Fraid I need that ring you're wearin' there, mate," Spike answered, gesturing at the demon's hand where he wore a gold and emerald band around his little finger.

"What for?"

Spike sighed and hefted the axe. "Look, mate, I don't have a lot of patience. I'm gonna' take that ring with or without the hand." He shrugged. "Up to you."

"Here," the demon said, pulling the ring off and handing it to him.

Spike stared, dumbfounded, and took the ring.

The demon noticed Spike's consternation. "Not really a fighter, you know."

Spike tossed the ring on the table in front of the witch, waking her.

"Got the soddin' ring," he said.

She pushed herself up. "You need a ring you say?"

"No, look -."

"I don't have any rings. . . ."

"I brought YOU a bloody ring, you stupid bint!"

"Oh, yes," she said, remembering. "My mind, you see, isn't. . . ."

Spike waited, but she seemed to drift off into faerie land again. He glanced at the ceiling in frustration.

"Okay, then," he said, "good luck and all that." He turned to leave.

"Wait, vampire."

Spike sighed and turned around. "What now?"

"I require one other thing."

He wondered if she had enough presence of mind to actually curse him. He wavered between leaving and hearing her out.

"A small thing. . . ." she said.

Spike groaned and ground his teeth together.

"Easy for one with your talents. . . ."

"What is it?" he asked, knowing he would probably regret it.

"Spike!"

He turned around slowly and spotted the Slayer not thirty feet from him.

"Great. . . ." he murmured. "Look, Slayer, I'm busy now. We can fight some other time, okay?" Something occurred to him. "What are you doin' all the way out here?"

Buffy smiled. "I followed you."

Spike looked confused. "Why?"

"I wanted to know what you were up to."

Spike shook his head. "Go home, Slayer. I got things to do." He turned and headed for a nearby cave.

Buffy frowned. That wasn't like Spike. "Hey," she said. "You vampire, me Slayer, remember? We have an obligation here - fight to the death and all? Any of this getting through to you?"

He turned and stared at her. She was as infuriating as ever, and he did want to fight her. He grumbled. Now wasn't the time. He had to finish this business with the old crone, then get on to his own. The Slayer would come later.

"Whatsa' matter, Slayer? Gettin' rusty? Need a little practice time with a good fighter?"

She scoffed. "As if." She frowned at him. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Do you really care about this, Slayer? Why are we still talkin' anyway? You Slayer, me vampire, remember?" He gestured at her with his axe hand. "Out of stakes?"

She glowered at him.

He turned and started walking.

That was weird.

"Where are you going?" she called to him.

"None of your business."

"Anything that happens on the Hellmouth is my business, Spike, especially when it involves vampires," she said, following him.

Spike rolled his eyes. His night couldn't get any worse, could it? Out on some larky mission for an old bat that couldn't remember her name if it was written on her hand and now the Slayer was following him.

"Why are you followin' me, Slayer?"

"I wanna' know what you're doing."

He sighed. "Nothin' evil, so why don't you go on home?"

"Right. You're out visiting the old and infirm . . . with an axe."

A minute later they reached the cave. Spike peered in. He could see in the dark, but there wasn't anything to see, just an empty cave. He stepped inside.

"Why are we here?" Buffy whispered.

"I'm here to get a tooth from a Dacril - somethin' demon. I don't know why you're here."

They stalked cautiously through the cave.

"What do you want this tooth for? Something evil, I bet."

"You might wanna' be quiet now, Slayer. These things are a mite nasty."

A roar shattered the stillness of the cavern and sent a chill down Buffy's spine.

"What is that?" she asked.

Spike ignored her and continued into the cave.

They walked for five minutes in silence.

"What is all over the floor?" Buffy whispered, disgusted.

"Don't know."

"Well, it's hard. . . ."

Spike whirled on her. "You wanna' just shout yer lungs out, Slayer? I'm sure whatever lives in here doesn't know we're here yet."

Angry, Buffy opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted as a massive figure pounced on Spike from the shadows. The impact carried them across the cavern.

The creature held Spike in a bear hug, squeezing mercilessly. His arms pinned to his sides, Spike couldn't raise his axe and he couldn't free himself. The monster roared again and threw Spike against the cave wall.

"Maybe if you just asked. . . ." Buffy said, amused. She refused to help him. In fact, seeing Spike get a chunk bit out of him might just make the night worth it.

Spike got to his feet in time to see the demon lunge for him again. He swung the axe, slicing neatly through the creature's midriff.

The demon howled in shock, but didn't seem willing to let the injury stop him. He tackled Spike again and they smashed into the wall. Spike managed to keep his axe free this time and clubbed the demon in the side of the head. It took several blows, but eventually the creature dropped him.

Spike staggered away from it, getting his bearings.

The creature was faster than he'd given it credit for. It swung a massive arm at him, catching him across the jaw.

Spike reeled and hit the opposite wall.

"This is so pathetic, Spike," Buffy said.

The creature, seeing her for the first time, turned wide eyes on her. It licked its lips.

"Delicious," it whispered.

Buffy looked appalled.

The creature thrust a hand toward her, thinking her an easy victim.

Buffy dodged and stepped out of its reach. She kicked it in the leg, forcing it onto its knees.

"See," Buffy said to Spike, "it's all in the technique."

"Oh, really?" Spike said, pushing himself up.

"Uh-huh," she said, moving behind the demon and gripping it by the head. "We coulda' been out of here five minutes ago if you hadn't been dancing around with this thing - Hey!"

The demon reached around and grabbed Buffy by the shoulders, tossing her over its head in one brisk, fluid motion.

Buffy landed across the cave, just shy of the wall.

"Ever think about givin' lessons, Slayer? Know some vamps could use a little advice -."

"Shut up, Spike!" she said, getting to her feet and wiping dirt from her clothes.

Spike and Buffy warily circled the demon, assessing its weaknesses.

It didn't seem to have any.

Impatient, Spike let out a growl and lunged at the demon. Buffy stayed back, not wanting to get hit with his axe.

After a five minute fight, Spike emerged victorious. He had a large number of gashes and the beginnings of what looked to be really impressive bruising.

He leaned over the demon, opened its mouth and pried on a bicuspid. Another five minutes saw the three-inch tooth extracted.

"So, now what?" Buffy asked. Maybe she should just stake him now. She did want to know what he was up to, though.

"I'm leavin'. You can hang about if you want."

He moved past her, but stopped when she said, "Hey. Is that a tooth?" She bent to pick it up. She held it in front of his face. "What do you know?" she said, smugly. "It IS a tooth. Exactly what you were looking for, and conveniently NOT in a demon's jaw."

Spike groaned and rolled his eyes.

She dropped it and stared at him, quickly growing angry. "We just fought that thing - almost got killed - for nothing!"

"Well, I didn't ask you to follow me, Slayer!" He waved the axe at her, threateningly. "Besides, I don't remember you doing anything but soarin' through the air," he motioned with his hand, "ungraceful like."

"If I hadn't distracted it, you'd probably be dust right now."

Spike scoffed. "Why don't you go home? Watch Xena an' leave me alone."

"Nothin' doin', Spike." She followed him. "I'm staying until I find out what you're up to."

They grumbled and yelled at each other until they reached civilization. Spike was contemplating ways to ditch the Slayer when a group of vampires accosted them.

The one in the lead stepped forward. "Spike, we've been looking for you."

"Really?" He glanced from one to the other, considering the odds. "Couldn't have guessed that."

The vampire glanced at Buffy. "Helpin' the Slayer now, Spike?"

"What?" Spike spared a look at Buffy. "I am not helpin' the Slayer!"

Buffy was irritated at the notion. "You think I'd ever need his help for anything?"

The vampire ignored her and looked at Spike again. "Well, you sure aren't where you're supposed to be."

Spike was quickly becoming outraged. "Oh, and where is that?"

"Angelus didn't give you permission to leave."

"You think I need his soddin' permission to go somewhere?" Spike waved the axe at him. "I bloody well do as I please!"

"You can tell that to Angelus." The vampire reached for him, but Spike sidestepped and kicked him in the chest.

The vamp whirled on Spike, unbelieving. "You're going one way or another, Spike. You really want it to be in pieces?"

Spike's game face emerged and he let out a low growl. "Try it."

Buffy made a quick count of the vampires. There were ten. The odds weren't all that appealing, but she and Spike could probably dust the lot of them. She grimaced. That meant helping Spike.

"I been lookin' forward to meetin' you, Slayer," the nearest vamp said. "My girlfriend wants a necklace made outta' yer teeth."

Buffy whirled around and slammed a stake through the vampire's dead heart before he had a chance to move.

"Oh, man . . . that ain't fair. . . ." He dissolved before he could further lament his own passing, and Buffy leapt over the pile of dust and assaulted the next vamp.

"Oh - hey! Nobody said anything about the Slayer!" he said, holding his hands up.

"Sorry, I'll post my itinerary next time," Buffy said, slamming the stake through his heart. She smiled to herself. She'd have to tell that one to Giles. He didn't think she knew any words with more than three syllables.

Spike, still furious, didn't bother to trade any witty repartee. He found the axe quite handy as the vamps were scattering like cockroaches under the light.

He swung his arm in a graceful arc, the axe neatly decapitating the vampire to his left. Spike let the momentum carry him around in a circle and, as he turned, he gripped the axe with both hands and rammed it into the next vamp.

The vampire collapsed, the axe buried in his chest. He was too shocked to make any noise, instead he simply stared as Spike jammed a booted foot against his shoulder and jerked the axe from his body. He screamed as the blade came free and he collapsed, writhing on the ground.




Continue

Back to Fanfiction