Banner by Selene

Chapter 11

The Outskirts of Rome

‘Everything is going exactly as planned. The Slayer suspects nothing more than an additional attack on her little group tonight. It’s a shame she got a look at my face, though. Oh well, it doesn’t matter.’

Slipping the hood of his cloak down off his head, Damius made his way back towards his temporary living quarters. Black eyes briefly flicked red.

Before leaving to confront the Slayer, Damius had liberally applied the potion he had made to the sword he now carried in his hands. All he had needed to do was break the skin in order for the potion to mix with her blood. Now, he just had to sit back and wait as the toxin slowly filled the Slayer’s bloodstream, eventually killing her. With her slayer healing it would take a bit longer, but she was no match against the poison now working its way through her body. In the end, she would die, and along with her, all the other slayers.

‘Except Faith. Then there will be only one.’

~*~*~*~*~

Rome

Spike swept through the front door held open for him by Lionna.

“Someone bring me the first aid kit. The rest of you go to bed. And, be quiet. I don’t want the ‘Bit waking up.”

He made quick work of climbing the stairs, careful not to jar Buffy as he headed for her room. He nudged the partially opened bedroom door with his foot, sending it swinging inward, then walked over to the bed. He leaned over and laid Buffy down on top of the covers, his eyes scanning her body inventorying her injuries as he did so. Her face was pale, probably due to shock. Blood covered the front of her shirt and spilled onto her arms where she was holding them over the front of her wound, trying to stem the blood flow. Just then, Kat walked in bearing the first aid kit.

“Here you go, Spike,” she whispered, handing him the box of medical supplies. “Do you want me to stay and help?”

“No, we’ll be fine. The Slayer’s been through worse than this scratch.” Even as he said the words, he didn’t entirely believe them. Something about the attack just didn’t sit well with him. The vampires were too inept, the mysterious cloaked person had been too focused on Buffy. Pushing his wayward thoughts aside, he took the first aid kit over to Buffy and set about getting her taken care of. He barely noticed the young slayer’s departure.

“Let’s have us a look-see, luv.”

Reluctantly, Buffy removed her arms from her wound. Spike pulled out the dagger he kept hidden in his boot, and with painstaking care, slit the front of her shirt from neck to hem. The shirt parted to reveal an eight-inch long gash just above her belly button. Blood continued to ooze out of the wound. Spike grabbed some gauze and used it to apply pressure to the cut. After a few minutes, he lifted the gauze away from her body to get a better look. ‘Not as deep as I thought,’ he thought to himself. Aloud, he said, “I’m gonna have to stitch this up, luv.”

Buffy just closed her eyes and gave a weak nod. Spike reached into the kit and grabbed the antiseptic and some more gauze. He liberally doused the gauze then applied it to her stomach. Her breath left her in a “whoosh” as her eyes welled up from the pain. Spike lifted his gaze from the task at hand to look at Buffy. His own eyes were equally moist as he conveyed his apology. Sorry, still, as he had yet to do the worst damage, knitting her skin together with needle and thread.

Spike forced himself not to flinch with each jab of the needle into Buffy’s skin. Her indrawn breath was like a whip to his bare back, each stitch he made a reminder that he’d not been fast enough... and his girl had suffered for it. He finished the last stitch and cut the thread, then covered it with more bandages and gauze.

"Let’s get this wrapped around you, yeah?"

Buffy nodded and he helped her out of her shirt and bra, making it easier - and quicker - for him to work. When he was finished, he helped Buffy to the chair so that he could change the sheets on the bed. That was accomplished quickly and before long, he had her back in bed and snuggled beneath the covers.

“I’ll be right back, luv. Just gonna get rid of this stuff.”

Buffy nodded and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep to escape the pain.

Spike stood up and grabbed the discarded clothes and linens and threw them in the hamper on the way to the bathroom. Buffy’s wound had bled profusely and he’d been nearly covered from head to toe with her blood before he managed to get her stitched up; a quick shower was in order.

It was only once he was back in bed, getting as close to her as he dared without hurting her that his mind turned to the cloaked figure. For hours, Spike went over the events of the night, trying to figure out what was nagging him. Finally giving up near dawn. He wanted to hit something, frustrated because he couldn’t figure it out. Instead, he inched closer to Buffy and rested his hand on her hip, closed his eyes and slept.

~*~*~*~*~

She sat on a rock staring at the flames of the fire burning before her. A shadowy figure moved in and out behind the flames, crouching on her haunches. She couldn’t tell what it was. Hints of a woman, dreadlocks, a painted face.

‘I…I’m sorry, I…I’m just a little confused. I’m full of love, which is nice, and ... love will lead me to my gift?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m getting a gift? Or, or do you mean that, that I have a gift to give to someone else?’

‘Death is your gift.’

‘Death…’

‘Is your gift.’

~*~

Buffy woke with a start, her eyes flew open, wide and unseeing. She would have jolted to an upright position, but the cool arms wrapped around her prevented her from moving. Waking took away the numbness sleep provided, and the pain in her abdomen caused her to clutch her hands over the bandages covering her midsection. She couldn’t prevent her muffled groan.

The noise woke Spike, and he lifted his head from the pillow so he could look at her.

“What is it, luv?”

“Nothing. Just a dream. I don’t even remember it,” she lied.

“’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you. Close your eyes and try to get some more sleep.”

Buffy fidgeted for a moment, trying to get comfortable. She scooted as close to Spike as she could without aggravating her wound. A tremor shook her slight frame. She hated to lie to Spike, but she had no explanation for her dream. And what was even more peculiar was that she had already had this particular dream. Definitely a first – a repeat slayer dream. She distinctly remembered it from the quest she and Giles had undertaken in an attempt to deal with Glory a few years back. She’d ended up jumping off a tower to save the world, dying in the process.

She hated to think about something like that happening again; she wasn’t ready to go back to heaven yet now that Spike was back with her. With a soft sigh, she let the soothing caress of Spike’s fingers lull her back to sleep.

Spike could tell by her even breathing and slower heart rate that she had drifted off to sleep. He knew that Buffy was lying to him about her dream, but he didn’t want to push the issue. She needed to heal right now, not argue. And, he could feel a big argument coming on.

‘In the morning,’ he thought. ‘We’ll hash this out then. I’m not gonna let her deal with this on her own.’

next

Want to leave a REVIEW?