All About Spike

Chapter: 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17

Leashing the Beast
By Nos

((AN: The song in this chapter is Greedy Fly, by Bush. I do not own it.))

Chapter 7

((Do you feel the way you hate?))
((Do you hate the way you feel?))
((Always closer to the flame...))
((Ever closer to the blame...))


Stormy blue, bloodshot eyes flicked to Willow, for a second. She was waking up. He watched her, tilting his head as she sat up, taking in the room, her bound hands, and then looking to him.

"Spot! I didn't tell you you could move!" Warren shouted.

Spike winced, and ducked his head, snapping his gaze back to the position Warren had left him in.

"She's awake," Andrew stated, pointing at the redhead.

"Ahh. Hello Willow. Welcome to our humble abode." Warren grinned like mad.

" you want with me?" Willow asked, frowning.

"You're bait. We knew the Slayer wouldn't come for the vampire." He was pleased with Spike's reaction to the comment, another wince. "So we had to take other steps."

"She's really pretty, Warren..." Andrew leered, and then jumped back six inches at the sudden warning growl rumbling in Spike's throat.

All eyes turned to him again.

Protective instinct had driven the growl from him. He didn't even realize he was doing it until Andrew had jumped.

"Spot, what the hell was that?" Warren asked, pulling out the control.

Spike shifted in his uncomfortable crouched posture, not looking up. The growl rumbled to a halt. He didn't respond. Willow watched, wide-eyed.

"I asked you a question, Spot." Warren continued, pressing the yellow button.

Spike yelped, and dug his fingers into his hair, falling over onto his side. He tugged at his hair, nearly ripping it out at the roots, as if it would make the pain stop.

"Stop it!" Willow shouted, her stomach turning. It was one thing to read about what they were doing to him, quite another to witness it for herself.

Warren gave her an amused look, and released the button.


The vampire slowly uncurled his hands from his hair and looked up at Warren.

"I don't wan' you to hurt her." came the soft response, his voice gravelly from lack of use.

Warren laughed. And took a step toward Willow.

((I am poisoned crazy lush..))
((Will these hands to lift me up...))
((We are servants of our formulaic ways...))

With a vicious growl, Spike pushed himself up and leapt in front of Willow, panting. Oddly enough, even with this amount of disobedience, he remained in the crouched position.

[Spike, don't! They won't kill me, they need me...] Willow's mental voice trailed off, as Warren hit the button again. She trembled, the direct link allowing her to sense the amount of pain Spike was going through.

Spike screamed, and curled into a ball, his whole form shaking, his hands clawing at his head.

((I'm screaming daisies...))
((From fourteen miles away...))
((I've got my own time...))
((Got it all today...))

He took in shuddering, unnecessary breaths as the pain stopped and rational thought and reality came crashing back.

"...If you do that again, I swear to the Gods, I'll..." Willow was saying, her voice laced with malice.

"You'll what? You're not really in a position to make demands, girl," Warren replied.

Spike's eyes flickered to Willow's face, floating above him. She gave Warren the cruelest smirk he'd ever seen her give. He wondered irrationally if she'd been taking lessons from him.

((Up your mind...))
((Need some help...))
((Fight this mind, mind, mind....))

"I happen to be the most powerful of our little group. I'm even stronger than Buffy. I don't like doing it, but I could make the both of you bleed from every pore in your body with a single thought. Let. Us. Go." Willow radiated confidence, her eyes swearing that she could back that statement up.

Spike wondered whether or not she was bluffing. He shook his head several times in a vain attempt to clear it, and pulled himself back up until he was sitting upright.

[Willow, don't...Spot's not worth it...]

[Spike, shut up.]

He winced, half expecting the blinding pain again, since he had obviously made her angry. He lowered his head, and absently wiped at his nose, attempting to clean away the stream of blood there.

((Limbo this, and limbo that...))
((You were this and you were that...))
((Ever know that what you fear is what you find...))

Warren paled slightly, also unsure if Willow was bluffing or not. She had suddenly begun to radiate the impression of power. Gone was the shy schoolgirl Warren had taken her for.

((This Indian summer...))
((I signed my life away...))
((There's a greedy fly in here...))
((And I'll fly away...))

His finger slipped from the yellow button, and rested lightly on the red, not pressing it. He hadn't figured on rebellion from "Spot" or his new captive, but what had she said -- let US go? He could adjust his strategy.

"If you so much as try anything," he addressed Willow, "I'll press this button. Once I do, there's no going back. The chip will continue to fire until he's dead. Even I can't stop it."

((Up your mind...))
((Need some help...))
((Fight this mind, mind, mind...))


"Oh my god..." Xander choked, staring at Willow's still glowing computer screen. They had returned only moments ago, to find the front door open, and the wall by the stairs smashed in. Their search for the nerds hadn't been fruitless; their fruit was in the form of Jonathan, who was sitting downstairs on the couch, an angry Slayer standing over him.

Xander felt a pang of sympathy for Spike, reading Warren's detailed account of the vampire's 'training'. Even Spike didn't deserve this. Nothing on the face of the planet deserved this. Bastards. Xander felt the overwhelming urge to grab an axe and bury it in Jonathan's head for allowing this to go as far as it did.

He shut off the computer screen and made his way back downstairs, watching as Buffy hung up the phone.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Tara and Dawn are on their way. Dawn is going to come with us, I can't take the chance of leaving her alone right now. And we need Tara."

Xander nodded, running a hand through his hair.

"What's wrong?" she asked, taking in his slightly green pallor.

"Found Will's comp all logged on to Warren's upstairs. She cracked it, I guess. He was pretty...graphic about what they're doing to Spike."

Buffy's eyes blazed with anger for a moment, before she turned to Jonathan.

"Alright. You came for asylum. You've got it. In the form of 'I'm not going to rip your head off right now.' Talk."

The boy fidgeted.

"I can take you to them. That, uh, address on the wall is correct. But I can show you how to get in and stuff. It's not hard. They were, uh, planning on taking one of your friends, to get you to come to them. They won't expect you to come before they send a ransom note."

Xander stared at him.

"Why are you doing this? Betraying them?"

Jonathan met his eyes.

"Even I couldn't stomach what they were doing. They want to kill all of you, or, at least Warren does, and Andrew is following him. I didn't sign up to kill people."

Buffy shrugged.

"Doesn't matter. You'll take us to them. Xander, get some weapons. When the others get here, we're leaving."

((Up your mind...))
((Need some help...))
((Fight this mind, mind, mind...))

Continued in Chapter 8

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