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Chapter 19

“What do you mean, find him? Where is he?” 

“Sorry, B. Can’t tell you any more than I already have. You know how these things work.” 

“Faith!”

Faith walked backwards, away from where Buffy stood at the entrance to the hallway, remorseful eyes never leaving the blonde’s face. 

“Faith! What do you mean? Where is he?” Buffy started after Faith, determined to get the girl to tell her what was going on. “Faith!” 

“Time to wake up, B.” 

~*~ 

Buffy woke with a gasp, her chest heaving from panic caused by her Slayer dream. She sat up quickly, her eyes taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The last thing she remembered was being on the beach just as the sun started to rise. She’d felt her skin begin to burn and flake, and then… nothing. 

It was dark inside the room, though there was a faint green cast about the place. She dismissed it out of hand, her mind only on Spike. Her hand encountered something hard and she turned to see Spike stretched out on his back beside her, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world. She released a shaky breath. Faith hadn’t known what she was talking about, Spike was right there next to her. 

And so was Angel. Curled on the other side of her mate with one arm draped across Spike’s stomach. Faith’s words came back to Buffy and her mind glazed over with images of the two of them… together. She would have blushed if she could but it had been awhile since she’d last fed. 

She realized what it was that had woken her. 

She was hungry. Really hungry. 

It had been a few days since she’d fed, it being the last thing on her mind once deciding to greet the sun. The sounds of the three distinctly human heartbeats in the room had intruded on her utter exhaustion, pulling her from the restorative slumber she’d so desperately needed.

She bit her lip and inadvertently drew blood when her fangs sliced into her bottom lip, not realizing how close to the edge her demon was, that she’d shifted sometime in her sleep – which was why the slow, steady thump thump thump sounded like canons going off in her ears. The smell of her own blood only made her hungrier. She had to get out of the room before she did something she would regret. Gone an entire year, and her first day back she’s taking a bite out of her friends. Yeah, so not good. 

A hand closing about her wrist prevented her from leaving, however. She turned back to see Angel, eyes open and staring at her intently, nostrils flaring, no doubt from the scent of her blood on the air. 

“Where are you going?” His voice was barely above a whisper, intended only for her ears. 

“I’m hungry. Their… the noise… it’s getting to me. Angel, I’ve got to get out of here… before I…” 

“Lay back down next to Spike. He needs to know you’re still here, and still alive. If you leave right now, he may not come back.” 

“Come back? Angel, he’s right here.” 

“He may be here in the physical sense, but he’s willing himself to die, Buffy.” 

“Die? Why?” 

“He thinks you dusted. He doesn’t want to live.” 

“But I didn’t…” She crawled back up on the bed and settled next to Spike. Her hand lifted to trail over his face. He didn’t react in any way to her gentle caress. It was like she’d not touched him at all… like she wasn’t even there. “I did this,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “I did this, didn’t I?” 

Angel sighed at seeing the effect Spike’s lack of reaction was having on her. 

“It’ll be okay, Buffy. Spike just needs to realize you’re here. He needs you close. Then he’ll come back. You just need to stay with him.” 

Buffy nodded and curled up next to Spike, so close that no one would be able to tell where she ended and Spike began. She tamped down her hunger, exerted her will over the demon, ignored the loud heartbeats resounding in her ears; she’d feed later, once Spike was back.

And for once the demon was in full accord.

Nothing mattered but her Sire. 

“Here.”

Angel held out his wrist.

Buffy ignored him and his offering. 

“Buffy, you need to feed. Your senses are too heightened with your demon prevalent,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear. “You need to change back. Here.” 

“I’ll be alright,” she argued back, her voice equally low. 

“No you won’t. You’re skin and bones as it is. Besides, it’s probably going to take your blood to wake Spike. If you don’t have any to give him…” His voice trailed off; he knew it was the only argument he could give to make her feed from him. The girl took stubborn to a whole new level.

He had to force himself to hide his smug grin when she took his hand and bit his wrist without preamble. 

Yes, he knew his girl well… 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Once she started, Buffy couldn’t seem to stop. Her fangs tapped into Angel’s vein and she drew harshly at the blood stored within. He tasted like fine wine after a year spent living on water, and she wanted to gorge herself on it. 

Bleed him dry. 

She growled low in her throat and heard an answering one in him. Not a warning, more like an encouragement to take as much as she wanted, as much as she needed. And she was tempted. Boy was she tempted. Familial blood rated right up there with Sire blood and Slayer blood. 

But they already had one non-responsive vamp. She didn’t need to compound matters and add a second. After one final pull, Buffy forced herself to stop and she licked at the twin holes she made before releasing his hand. 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem. Once the others wake up, I’ll send them out for some more blood.” 

Buffy nodded and settled herself next to Spike. 

“He’s going to be alright, isn’t he, Angel?” 

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered some time later. Neither of them were asleep yet. 

Angel’s brows drew together, and he looked over Spike at his former girlfriend. The worry on her face was palpable. Finally, he sighed and told her, “I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to.” 

“Yes you are. And not just you, either. I owe everyone an apology. Spike especially.” Her hand lifted to caress her mate’s ashen cheek. “I… I didn’t stop to think how my leaving would affect anyone else.” 

Angel grunted, but neither confirmed nor denied Buffy’s statement. 

“Go back to sleep, Buffy,” he sighed and laid his head back upon the pillow. “You’re tired. Hell, we’re all tired.” 

Buffy murmured her compliance, curling herself even closer to her mate, but she didn’t sleep. She couldn’t sleep. To sleep was to dream, and she didn’t want to face what she might find locked away in her subconscious. The self-recriminations that were already too much to deal with in her wakened state.

She heard Angel settle down on the other side of Spike and go deathly still, indicating he’d drifted off once more. 

Finally.  

She didn’t need him standing over her proverbial shoulder, waiting for her to do as he’d said. He would have too, if he’d not been depleted of a good portion of his blood supply – she knew Angel very well, after all. She made a mental note to have him drink a few of her human blood bags she’d have the others acquire for her later to help him regain his strength. The whole animal thing was getting old. If she had to do it, he could too. 

Besides, she was going to need him. She and Spike both were going to need him.

~*~*~*~*~ 

The hallway was just like she’d left it and she wrapped her hands around her upper arms and gave each one a vigorous rub, trying to ward off the chill. It didn’t do any good; if anything, the temperature seemed to drop a few more degrees. 

“Spike?” she called out, her voice low and hesitant as she started towards the first of many door.

The knob turned easily enough in her hands and Buffy let herself into the room. It was pitch black inside, and even with her enhanced senses, if she’d not had the light from the hallway to guide her, she would not have been able to find her way out. 

“Spike?” she called out again even though she knew he wasn’t in the room with her. She didn’t feel him, didn’t sense him close by. She didn’t sense him at all, now that she thought about it. The only reason she knew he was there – somewhere – was because she was back in another Slayer dream. Frustrated, she backed out of the room and started down the hall towards the next door, and the next room. 

Over and over it went; she lost count of the number of doors she tried. Each one she encountered yielded the same results – an empty room and no sign of Spike anywhere. But she knew she was getting close. It was so cold now that, if she’d been human, she would have been in serious jeopardy of hypothermia. Still, even as a vampire, she was feeling the cold. It seeped into her skin going bone deep. Every step she took now hurt like hell. 

She wasn’t giving up though. Spike was in one of those rooms willing himself to die. It was her job to bring him back. Make him realize that she’d not left him. That she’d not died. 

A sudden stab of pain near the vicinity of her heart had her screaming Spike’s name and tearing through door after door in an attempt to try and reach him in time. He was getting weaker and she could feel him slipping away. The bond they shared fainter somehow. She started crying at some point, perhaps when her frantic cries of her mate’s name met with no response and each new door seemed to get her no closer to him. 

When the next door opened and she was nearly blinded by the light, Buffy knew her jaw was probably scraping the ground. 

“Spike?” she called out, spying a figure some distance away, his back to her and staring up at the sun. 

He turned, and she knew right away that it was he – she would know his smile anywhere.

“I knew if I tried hard enough I’d find you,” he murmured against her neck when Buffy flew across the space and flung herself into his arms. “Shhh. Don’t cry, luv. We’re together again. Though gotta say, figured it’d be a bit quicker than it was. Thought that was the whole bloody point of bein’ mated. One goes, the other’s not far behind. Quick-like, ya know?” 

Crying as hard as she was, it took a while before the meaning behind Spike’s words made any kind of sense. When they did, she forced herself to pull back and look up at him. 

“I didn’t die, Spike. I’m still alive,” she told him. “This is a dream. You need to wake up now.” 

Spike was shaking his head before she even finished. He stepped away from Buffy and turned back to the sun. 

“I like it here. Been a long time since I’ve felt the sun on m’ face. No way that could happen if I was still a vampire.” 

“I told you, Spike. It’s a dream. You’re dreaming. Actually, you’re willing yourself to die. And you need to stop.” 

She stepped in front of him and forced him to meet her gaze. 

“You need to come back to me. Please, Spike. Come back to me.” 

“You’re right here, luv. What do I need to go back for?” 

“I’m not really here. I’m just— Truthfully, I don’t know what I am. What I do know is that this isn’t real. This place isn’t real. We’re not real. If we stay here, we’re both going to die. And it’s not something either one of us will be able to come back from.” 

“You’re scared. It’s ok, luv. Takes some getting used to, yeah? But, I’ll look out for you. Promise.” 

“It’s not this place that scares me, it’s your wanting to stay here that does. Spike, this place isn’t real. It’s a product of your imagination. Something you created because you think I’m dead. But I’m not… dead that is. Well, I am, but not like that. Something saved me, prevented me from dusting.” 

Spike gave her an indulgent smile and Buffy could feel the scream that wanted to break free. Damn stubborn vampire. 

Finally she gripped his hair on either side of his head. Hard. 

“Listen, buster,” she practically growled as she brought him to eye level. “Wake up! Now! We’re not staying here. We’re gonna wake up and say hello to our friends. Then I’m gonna apologize to them… and to you. Afterwards, we’re gonna go back to LA and I’m gonna spend the next hundred years making things up to you.” 

Remembering what Angel had told her, how it was probably going to take her blood to wake him, she pulled back and quickly gouged her wrist against her fang. 

“Come on, Spike. I’m sure you’ve got to be hungry.” She grinned at seeing his eyes fasten on her bleeding hand and she waved it back and forth. And he says he’s not a vampire any longer. “A bit of Slayer blood to take the aches away? You know you wanna…” 

Buffy tilted her head to the side and smeared her neck with the blood pooling on her wrist.

The bite, when it came, startled a gasp out of her, but she relaxed into it. Into him.

Sire… 

His arms slipped around her back and then he was crushing her up against him, driving his fangs deeper. Drinking her down. Huge swallows that drained her fast – just like Angel had said. She closed her eyes and allowed Spike to take whatever he wanted. Whatever he needed. Anything to get him to come back to her. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angel woke at hearing Buffy’s indrawn breath. His eyes opened and he sat up slightly, supporting his weight on his elbow. Spike lay practically atop Buffy, drinking steadily. A quick glance around the room revealed that it was empty – save for the three of them. He must have been more tired than he thought if Cordelia, Wes, and his son could slip from the room without his notice. Buffy’s protective mist was also conspicuously absent. 

Still, it was good that they were gone. Too bad he couldn’t leave too. He didn’t want to be around when their bloodplay regressed to other, more private, activities. 

Maybe the two would wake up out of whatever trance they seemed to be locked in and spare him being scarred for the rest of his unlife.

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