era/season/setting (when posting fic): comics canon
rating (when posting fic ): PG 15
Summary: Buffy is missing when Spike returns to San Francisco. Comics verse - goes au after Season 9 Vol 10. Dawn's distraught and turns to Spike for help. Meanwhile Buffy's struggling to keep herself together. Can they find her? Amazing banner made by Wonder and Ashes on Elysian Fields!!
Spike banged on the door of Dawn and Xander’s apartment. What had Red managed to dig up? When there wasn’t an immediate answer, Spike knocked on the door again.
The door opened finally revealing Dawn standing there. “Jeez, impatient much!”
Her hair looked unkempt and her face was unusually pale. Spike knew she had been blowing off classes at the university over the last few days and that wasn't like her.
He leaned on the door jamb. “You look like death warmed up, pet.”
She pursed her lips. “Well thanks Spike, just what I needed to hear.”
He walked into the hall, followed Dawn into the living area and his eyes swept the room. He could smell the witch but she was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Red hiding out?"
"She said it would take a while before everyone was here, so she went to the store for provisions."
Spike balled his fists. What the bloody hell is the bint paying at? Fuck, I'm going out of his mind.
Dawn threw herself down on the sofa where a blanket was bunched up. She grabbed the blanket and pulled it around her.
“You not taking care of yourself is no way to help your sister."
“Quit lecturing me. You’re hardly the paragon of stability at the moment either.” She rolled her eyes to punctuate her point.
“Maybe not, but I’m already dead,” Spike retorted. Softening his tone, he continued, “You need to look after yourself Bit.”
“I’ve got the flu and spent most of the evening being all friendly with the toilet bowl. I can assure you it isn't at all intentional.”
Spike ignored the sarcasm registering only the frightening thought of the Bit with a little Bit of her own and his jaw dropped open. Oh no, she wasn’t, was she?
Dawn let out a little laugh, “Don’t worry. It’s not that.”
“Are you sure!”
“Yes – we’re being careful.”
Spike shuddered‚ he really didn’t need to hear about the Bit’s sex life with Harris of all people.
“Good,” he said. At least, he wouldn’t have to kill Harris, one less thing to worry about. There was enough to be gettin on with. “Have you been to a Doc about that flu, then?”
Knowing the Summers stubbornness for what it was, he sighed. “Well, what’s Red playing at?”
“I’m right here!”
Red had entered the hallway, Buffy’s scythe gleaming in her hand.
“What are you doing with that?” Spike’s scarred eyebrow climbed to his hairline.
Red made a zipping motion with her hand, “Not until Xander comes back.”
“And when will that be?”
“Should be back anytime now.”
He gritted his teeth. “Maybe I don’t want to wait?”
“Guys, shut up,” he heard Dawn say.
Both ignored her, instead glaring at one another.
“Quit acting like you’re the only one who cares for her. Newsflash, you’re not her boyfriend, you’ve never been her boyfriend and you ran away like the others. Remember.”
The words were like a smack in the face. “I don’t know why you’re in such a rush to get her back when you get to play Queen Bee.”
The plaintive cry pulled the duo out of their anger. Spike whirled around just in time to catch Dawn as she fell to the floor.
Buffy slumped in the torture chair again. Tendrils of her hair clung to her face in clumps from sweat and her muscles in her arms and legs twitched. She was alone in the room just waiting for the exercise in pain to begin again. She had been here for hours, this brief respite granted only because her captors need to eat and probably because they didn’t want her to lose consciousness. Torture wasn't as much fun when the victim was comatose. Who would have thought it? He gritted his teeth. She had tried not to scream her throat red raw, but the pain superseded her reason. Her nerve endings were shot. Just when she thought they would give up, they continued to find some new torture to try and get her to spill their secrets. Most of the creeps in the white coats seemed to get their kicks out of a young woman at their mercy. This wasn’t right; she was blessed with supernatural strength but it deserted her now when she was most in need of it.
Just kill me!! Please, just let it be over.
The cool feel of the metal on her skin, chafed her wrists. This feeling of helplessness was something she had rarely experienced in her previous life as Buffy the vampire Slayer. She wasn’t Buffy anymore. She was nothing. What sort of a Slayer was she, that she couldn’t figure a way out of this? Shame and humiliation were wearing her down and she didn't know how much longer she could go on‚ how much more she could take. Why haven’t they come for me?
To be continued...