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 FOUR

For five days now, the routine had been this:
Spike would spend the daylight hours sleeping fitfully on the watchers couch, while Angel kept watch, pouring over the books that Giles had left with him while it was quiet and offering words of comfort and reassurance when the dreams became too painful for his childe to bear alone. Giles worked in the shop during the day, using the slower moments to get stuck into his research. He had decided to inform Willow of the situation, she was Buffys best friend after all, on the understanding that she promise not to tell a soul. He had waived the rule slightly when Willow had asked "Not even Tara?" and the witch couple had decided to take it in turns to help at the shop, or wherever else was needed, whenever they had time to spare. With Dawn in their charge however, those times were few and very far between, but welcomed when they did come.

As soon as 6 o'clock arrived, Giles would close the doors to The Magic Box, and hurry up stairs to his apartment, where he would receive a detailed account of Spikes dream induced ramblings from the older vampire. With the last word barely off his lips , Spike would wake, thank his sire with a kiss to the back of his hand and when Angel was sure his childe had fed, he would retire to the guest room and try to rest himself.

The blond would watch tv, and chat about the most mundane subjects while Giles ate dinner and then the two of them would settle down to their books and research into the early hours until Angel rose, allowing Giles to get some sleep before it was time to open the shop again.

It wasn't easy, for any of them. The dreams (or visions, as they were now referring to them) were becoming increasingly more vivid and disturbing, also more frequent, and Spike was finding each one harder to endure than the last. He had all but stopped feeding, taking no more than a sip from each mug of blood that was offered him, sometimes not even that much. His unnatural pallor was even paler than usual and his weight was dropping at an alarming rate. Weight his slender frame could ill afford to lose. The beautiful, angular face with the sharply sculpted cheekbones now looked almost skeletal. His eyes, once a brilliant blue were now a deathly grey, apart from the tear ravaged rims which were a stunning shade of crimson, and were set far back in their dark, cavernous sockets.

On the second day, bruises had started to form in the places where the hands had held him down, convincing both the watcher and the souled vampire that their young charge was not only right about Buffy being in trouble, but was also in some considerable danger himself. Soon after that, more serious cuts and abrasions had appeared on other parts of his body. With each vision came new wounds, wounds that would normally have healed in minutes on a healthy vampire, but were still fresh and raw a day later due to Spikes refusal to feed.

So worried was Angel that last evening, after trying unsuccessfully to coax Spike into a second sip of pigs blood, he had vamped out, torn open his own wrist with his fangs and forced the ragged wound against his childes lips, refusing to move until he had drunk at least a few drops of the scarlet liquid.

"Come on Spike. Drink." He had pleaded but to no avail, the blond vampire had tried to pull away.

"Dammit Spike I said drink. I am your master and you will do as I say."

Fear flickered in his childe's eyes and then, just as Angel had hoped, his natural vampiric urge to please his sire had taken over and Spike had fed. Not hungrily, or eagerly, or even of his own free will, but he had fed.

It was rare for a vampire to be permitted to feed from his sire on an occasion other than his turning, and Angelus in particular had never extended that honour to any of his childer. In the past he would surely have had them staked even for thinking about it but right now he didn't care if Spike drained him dry.

When the younger vampire had had his fill, Angel had pulled back, lifting his wrist to his own mouth he lapped at the wound, cleaning away the last few drops of his blood .

"Why?" Spike had asked, looking up at him, blue returning to his tear filled eyes.

"You're my chide Will. I love you." Angel had replied.

-------

Giles looked up from the stack of books in front of him and stared at the blonde witch , who was smiling sweetly as she handed over a beautifully gift wrapped parcel, about the size of a Luntarian females skull plate (de-horned of course), to a young , heavily pregnant woman.

"Thank you for shopping with us." She said. "I hope this helps with the morning sickness."

The woman smiled back at Tara, and waddled out of the shop.

Giles's gaze shifted to the clock on the wall behind the till. It was ten minutes until closing time. This being Saturday, there was no work tomorrow and he was glad to finally be able to give his full attention to the matter of Buffy and Spike and the visions.

His thoughts kept returning to Cordellias vision and what she had said about Buffy's soul. If her soul had indeed been ripped from her body before her death, then it was probably not by accident which meant that something had taken her purposely . Could finding out why, provide the solution? Some how he doubted that it would . Maybe, instead of trying to find a way to bring Buffy back, they should concentrate on destroying whatever it was that was holding her there, surely then she would be able to find her own way home.

An unholy wail snapped him out of his musings, followed by a loud crash..

"Good grief!" He shrieked, leaping to his feet in a horrified haste , knocking a cup of cold earl grey over the leather bound parchments he had been reading.

Some of the tan coloured liquid soaked into the antique book, blurring the ink and he grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and began to dab at the pages with it.

Tara was suddenly by his side, the jacket was taken from his hands and the concerned witch looked at him and said, "It's okay. You go. I'll clean this up, and I'll lock up when I leave.

He nodded his thanks to her and ran as quickly as he could to his apartment. The closer he got, the louder the wailing became. Another crash which sounded like glass shattering . He briefly allowed himself a selfish thought for his belongings, before pushing it to one side and considering the plight of his blond houseguest. From the bottom of the stairs he heard Angel shout.

"Giles! Get up here now.!"

His legs felt like lead as he tried to climb the stairs, not moving nearly as fast as he was willing them to do. Gasping for breath as he reached the top, he paused for just a second to wonder what on earth had happened that would make Spike scream like that.

He flung the door open, expecting to see the vampire in the throes of yet another painful nightmare (the demon equivalent of) but the sight that greeted him was one that he could not have prepared himself for.

An unseen force, undoubtedly the hands which had been leaving the blonds body battered and bruised for days, was pinning Spike to the wall at the back of the apartment. His arms were stretched out on either side of him in a position resembling that of a crucifixion, his feet were some distance from the floor, his head hung forwards and his shoulders were pushed up almost to the ceiling. The borrowed black shirt (Angels) he wore was hanging in shreds from his limp form, revealing far more wounds than had previously been admitted to. There were no signs of life, indicating that the blond was not just sleeping but unconscious.

Angel was standing to one side, in full game face, growling loudly, yellow eyes darting round the room.

"I AM ANGELUS, SCOURGE OF EUROPE!!!" He snarled. "THIS CHILDE BELONGS TO ME!!! HARM HIM ANY FURTHER AND YOU WILL SUFFER THE CONCEQUENCES!!!"

He'd hoped the threat of Angelus's wrath would be enough to scare Spikes torturers away but he remained pinned to the wall.

Sidestepping the broken table and glass shards, Giles moved closer to the two vampires. On closer inspection he noticed slight indentations, like finger marks on the younger mans wrists and throat.

"What the bloody hell happened?" The watcher demanded, barely registering that Angels demon face was still prominent.

He shook off his demon face, only partially , unable to smooth the ridges on his forehead.

"He was asleep, I was reading and he just screamed. When I looked up he was...Something slammed him into the table and against the wall, like he was no more than a rag doll. ..I tried to pull him down but I couldn't, they're strong Giles , who ever they are. A lot stronger than me."

Giles shuddered at that , vampiric strength was something to be reckoned with. "I don't know what to do. I can't fight what I can't see."

Suddenly , Spike began to groan and heave, blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth as convulsions shook his body and a shallow puncture wound appeared in the centre of his chest.

Angel howled.

"I SAID LEAVE HIM ALONE!!!"

Giles scrambled over the back of the couch, landing at the younger vampires feet.

"Spike. Can you hear me? You have to wake up."

There was no response . "I'm not getting through Angel. Help me. If he hears your voice."

In a flash, he was at his childes side. Slipping his arms around the slender waist, he pressed his face against the smooth skin of his stomach and whispered, "Will. Childe. Wake up, please. Buffy needs you."

The gentle hum of his sires voice reverberated through the blonds flesh and with a strangled gasp, his blue eyes flew open, before his body was released and he fell in a heap to the ground, where he lay motionless.




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