|Chapter Title:||Early One Morning, Chapter 40|
January 2003. Annie will be 4 years old in February 2003.
Buffy died in early May 2001, brought back in September 2001.
Buffy will be 22 years old on January 19th, 2003.
|Summary:||Anya suggested that they use Annie to open the portal to find Buffy. Buffy finds out who it is that's kidnapped her.|
|Rating / Warnings:||
NC17. This chapter contains rape of a main character by not very nice creatures! Although it's part of the plot, this chapter is violent, disturbing and may be upsetting to some people. If you would rather read a version that is less graphic with regard to the rape scene CLICK HERE.
Content is only suitable for mature adults. Contains explicit language, violence, sex and adult themes which may include rape, attempted rape, blood play and other adult situations that some people may find objectionable. If you are under the age of 17 or find any of these themes objectionable – GO AWAY. Parents, it is up to YOU to control what your children are reading.
“Oh, opening a portal is easy!” Anya said cheerfully. “After all, you have the Key.”
Six pairs of wide eyes turned to Anya.
“You’re mad as the soddin’ hatter if you think we’re sacrificing Annie to get Buffy back! We’ll find another way!” Spike’s hands unconsciously coiled into fists as he addressed Anya.
“No! Wait!” Willow said quickly. “I remember something from when we were researching Glory.” Willow jumped up from her seat and quickly started scanning books in the “Glorificus” section of the library. Everyone stopped and watched Willow choose a book and start flipping pages furiously.
“Here! Here it is!” Willow read from the book, “’The blood flows, the gates will open. The gates will close when it flows no more.’" Willow looked up at Spike. “We just take a little of Annie’s blood, drop it on the portal and the portal will open. When it flows no more, it will close. You take a vial with you, when you get Buffy, you pour it on the portal and it will bring you back!”
Anya smiled smugly, but Spike wasn’t convinced. He scowled at Willow. “How much blood? She’s just a child.”
Willow shrugged and looked back at the book, but it held no more information about how much blood was needed to open a portal. Finally, Willow said, “I don’t know.”
“PFFFFFTT!” Spike snorted. “This is just crazy talk, then! For all you know it could take ALL of her blood to open the soddin’ portal!”
Wesley intervened on Willow’s behalf. “Spike, it may be worth a try to take a little and see what it will do. It certainly can’t hurt. If it doesn’t work, then we’ll find another way. If it does, well then, problem solved.”
“You’ve got the problem solved?” A new voice joined the discussion. Everyone looked up to see Angel walking towards them.
“Bloody Hell!” Spike said, hands clenching back into fists as Angel approached. “No one fucking invited you!”
“Too bad. I’m here. I can help.” Angel turned back to Wesley. “So, you found Buffy?”
Wesley looked to Spike for permission to tell Angel what they’d talked about. Spike rolled his head up to the ceiling and motioned with his hands as if to say “Go ahead,” or, more aptly, “What the fuck!” Wesley quickly summed up the discussion for Angel before turning his attention back to Spike. “So, shall we go ahead and try it, then?” Wesley asked Spike.
Spike addressed Giles, “What do you think, Watcher?”
Giles removed his glasses and wiped at them, considering the options they had before he spoke. Replacing his glasses, he met Spike’s eyes. “Well, there’s no telling how long it will take to find the correct spell to open the portal, Spike. It could take days or even weeks to find the proper one. If the blood works, you could have Buffy back tonight, presumably.”
“The sooner you get her out the better. There’s no telling how time moves where she’s at,” Anya pointed out. “She could have already been there for years.”
“Fine,” Spike acquiesced. “But get that nurse o’ Faith’s to draw the blood. Don’ want any of you amateurs tryin’ it.”
Buffy was getting sore from the position the shackles kept her in and her stomach was grumbling for food. She couldn’t be sure how long she’d been there, but it seemed plenty long enough for whoever had kidnapped her to make an appearance. Where’s the fun of having a captive if you don’t come around to tell them how horribly they’re going to die? Buffy thought and rolled her eyes.
Suddenly, Spike appeared in the doorway, moving slowly towards her. “Spike! Thank goodness! Get me out of these things!” Buffy rattled the shackles around her wrists, re-opening her wounds.
Spike walked up in front of her and stopped. “Pretty good shackles, huh?” he asked her.
“Yeah, pretty good – now get me out of them!” Buffy demanded.
Spike smirked. “All in good time, luv.”
Buffy looked at him with confusion. “What are you DOING!? Let’s get out of here! Whatever grabbed me could show up any minute!”
Spike kept the smirk on his face, leaning in close to her he whispered, “It already has.”
Buffy pulled back away from him as far as she could in the shackles, fear and confusion flooded her face. “W-w-what are you doing, Spi . . . William?”
Spike smiled broadly. “William thought, since you liked vampires so well, he’d show you what a real vampire is, luv.”
Buffy had been so focused on Spike that she didn’t even see the large, ugly vampire that had joined them in her cell until Spike nodded his head towards it. It was more disgusting than the Master, with ragged, rotten teeth and wrinkled skin the color of ash.
“Spike! What are you doing!? What is that?” Buffy looked between Spike and the beast, her mind racing to try and find an answer to what was going on.
“Vampire, luv. Turok-Han, to be exact, the original, primeval vampire,” Spike explained to her. “And he’s been alone for a very long time, if you follow my meanin'."
Spike raked his eyes over Buffy's body before stepping up very close to her. Suddenly, the Turok-Han was behind her, holding the base of her skull and stilling her head so she could look nowhere except into Spike’s eyes. She felt the long dagger-like finger nails of the beastly vampire slide up under her skirt and rip her panties off.
“Spike! William! Stop this now! What are you doing!? William!” Buffy pleaded with him to stop as she struggled to get free of the beast holding her.
Spike leaned in close to her. “Scream for me, Goldilocks. You know how I love to hear you scream,” he said seductively.
Before Buffy could say another word, she felt her hips lift and her legs spread. Suddenly, her tender flesh was being ripped as the Turok-Han thrust its cock into her from behind. She screamed and thrashed to get away, but between the shackles and the hold the vampire had on her neck, she couldn’t defend herself. All she could see was Spike’s face. He began singing softly as the Turok-Han continued raping her, plunging its hungry manhood into her dry channel.
The last thing she remembered before passing out were the words to the song Spike had sung to comfort her so many years ago.
Early one morning, just as the
sun was rising
I heard a maid sing in the valley below
"Oh don't deceive me, Oh never leave me,
How could you use, a poor maiden so?"
Buffy awoke shivering. She tried to move but pain shot through her entire body and she stopped. Concentrating, she tried to figure out where she was now. She could tell she was no longer standing or shackled. She was laying on something hard, wet and cold. Buffy opened her eyes slowly and saw that she was still in the same dungeon, but was now lying down on the wet, rank smelling floor of her cell. She pushed herself up to a sitting position with a loud moan. There was blood pooled under her. Taking a deep breath, she reached her hand gently down between her legs; it came back covered in blood.
“Well, it’s about time you got up!”
Buffy jumped at the sound, she hadn’t noticed anyone else in the cell with her when she woke up.
“Miss Calendar?” Buffy asked, confused. “Am I dreaming again?”
Jenny Calendar sat a few feet away from Buffy on a stone outcropping in the dungeon wall. “No, not dreaming, you stupid, selfish girl!”
“What? What are you talking about? What’s going on!?” Buffy tried to stand up and move over to where her dead teacher was, but the pain that shot through her was too much and she crumpled back to the floor.
“You! I’m talking about you Buffy! I gave up everything for you and Angel and what did you do?! You sent him away!” Miss Calendar rose from her seat and walked slowly towards Buffy.
“Miss Calendar, I’m sorry – I just – Angel was, he wasn’t . . .” Buffy really didn’t know what to tell her about Angel.
“So, everything I did, everything I gave up, my whole life, was for nothing! Because you decide that you’d rather have that monster than Angel!” Jenny Calendar stopped a couple of feet away from Buffy and looked down on her with disdain.
“Spike’s not a monster!” Buffy retorted.
“Really!? What do you call what he just did you to? You can’t even stand up!” Miss Calendar pointed out.
“T-t-that wasn’t Spike,” Buffy defended her husband.
“Looked like Spike to me!” Miss Calendar gave a small shrug. “Looked like him, sounded like him, hell, it even smelled like him!”
And she was right, it did look, talk and even smell like Spike, but it just couldn’t have been Spike. Tears pooled in Buffy’s eyes and she said, just barely loud enough to hear, “It was some kind of trick.”
Jenny Calendar laughed. “Looked like you were the trick to me, little girl! Do you think he’ll share you with all his friends or just the really disgusting ones?”
Buffy closed her eyes. “You. Are. Not. Real,” she said before opening them again to glare at Miss Calendar. “GO AWAY! YOU ARE NOT REAL! YOU ARE NOT REAL!” Buffy lay back down on the dank floor, covering her eyes with her hands and chanting, “You are not real,” over and over again before falling into a fitful dream-filled sleep.
“Hey B., looks like you’ve had a rough one, girlfriend!”
“Faith! You’ve gotta help me!” Buffy rushed over to Faith, grabbed her by both arms and shook her.
“Whoa, B! Take a pill! What’s the what?” Faith pulled away from her.
Buffy calmed herself before addressing her fellow Slayer again. “Faith, you have got to wake up! I need help!”
“That’s whatcha’ got that hot vamp for, ain’t it, B? Anyway, I tried to wake up, not happenin’,” Faith informed her.
“TRY HARDER! Spike’s - Faith, I think something’s happened to Spike. He’s possessed or lost his soul or - or BOTH! I don’t know, but I need YOUR HELP! PLEASE TRY!” Buffy begged her.
“From beneath you it devours, Buffy. Looks like it started with you, after all,” Faith replied.
Buffy woke with a jerk, causing pain to radiate from her core all through her body. Looking around, there was a tray near her with a glass of what looked like water and a small loaf of bread. She knew that she shouldn’t eat it – it could be anything, but she was starving, and hungrily gulped it down.
She leaned back against the wall and tried to think about what Faith said. From beneath you it devours. According to Giles that means The First. What was it Giles said? 'It could bring up spirits and set them on people, influence them, haunt them’. Miss Calendar was certainly a spirit, but what about Spike? He’s undead, does that make him a spirit, too?
Buffy closed her eyes and thought hard about everything that Spike said and did, when it dawned on her, Goldilocks. Spike’s never called me ‘Goldilocks’! It’s not Spike! Not MY Spike, anyway.
“Oh, thank God,” Buffy said aloud. She forced herself up and moved over to the iron bars of her cell. She pulled and pushed on them, but they were solid. She tried to kick them, but the pain shooting through her as she lifted her leg was too much and she fell to the ground and curled herself into a tight ball, trying to ease it.
“Well, look who’s up and ready for another go!” Spike’s voice came from the other end of the cell.
Buffy struggled to sit up. “You fucked up! You’re not Spike!” she yelled with all the strength she had and glared at him.
Spike laughed. “Did I, now? Do tell!”
“Goldilocks,” Buffy said simply.
Spike cocked his head, brows knit and considered her a moment. “Just ‘cuz I never said it out loud, doesn’t mean you aren’t my Goldilocks, luv.”
Buffy shook her head. If Spike thought it, Spike said it, she reminded herself. “You’re not Spike,” she said with more confidence than she really felt.
“PPPPFFFT,” Spike snorted. “Ask me anything! Something only I would know!”
Buffy shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, one that would allow her to jump up and fight if he came closer, while she thought. Finally, she met his eyes and asked, “When did you fall in love with me?”
“Oh, PLEEASE! That’s child’s play! Ask me somethin' hard!” Spike taunted her.
Buffy looked at him, eyebrows raised, waiting for the answer.
“Fine. Fell in love with you at the Bronze, the first time I saw you,” Spike told her.
“WRONG!” Buffy retorted. “I knew I was right! You're not Spike!”
“I’m not wrong, Buffy. I know when I bloody well fell in love with you!” Spike’s voice softened as he moved closer to her and squatted down to her level, flaring his duster out behind him. “You were dancing with your boy Harris and Red at the Bronze. You had on that skimpy knit top and short skirt and your hair shone like spun gold under the lights, Goldilocks. You were laughing and your body swayed to the music with the grace of an angel.” Spike reached a hand towards Buffy’s face, but stopped short of touching her as she pulled back away from him.
Abruptly standing back up Spike said, “That’s when I fell in love with you. Not the night we made Annie, like you thought.”
Tears threatened Buffy’s eyes and she shook her head in denial. “No. No, that’s wrong. You . . . Spike tried to kill me after that! More than once! That’s just not true.”
“Never succeeded, did I, luv?” Spike asked her. “Ever wonder why that was, with all the chances I had?”
“Why?” Buffy’s eyes closed, her voice was barely a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”
“Ah, well. Vampire, remember?” Spike smirked at her.
Buffy looked up and then noticed that two more of the beastly vampires like the one that raped her before were standing behind Spike.
“NO! No, no, no . . .” Buffy scrambled backwards away from Spike and the Turok-Han.
“Now, Buffy. There’s nowhere to go, luv.” Spike stalked slowly closer to her. He stopped just a foot in front of where she now stood with her back against the wet rock of the dungeon wall.
“You can stop it, pet. Stop the pain. All you have to do is dust me,” Spike said to her in a low, soft voice.
Buffy shook her head. “Please, please stop this. We can - we can fix whatever it is, Spike. Just stop now,” she begged him.
“Only you can stop it, Buffy.”
Suddenly a stake dropped at her feet. Instinctively, she bent down and picked it up. Pain shot through her at the sudden movement and she couldn’t straighten back up completely. Holding her abdomen, she felt warm blood, her blood, start running down her thighs. “William, please,” she said through the pain.
“Only you, Buffy,” he told her softly as he moved towards her.
Buffy could see the two primeval vampires moving closer, as well. One on each side of Spike, ready to grab her. She started to move to the side, but they were too fast, she was trapped between them, the wall to her back and Spike standing in front of her.
“Or, maybe Angelus was right, after all, Buff,” Spike purposely used the name that Angelus always called her. “Maybe you would love to get fucked in the ass and the quim at the same time. Would it made you scream and beg for more? Let’s find out, shall we?” Spike’s eyes looked from one to the other of the vampires at her sides before he took a step back.
As the Turok-Han reached for her, Buffy thrust the stake into the chest of one of the beasts. Her eyes went wide as the vampire screeched in pain, but didn’t dissolve into dust.
“Missed the heart, luv,” Spike informed her. “Gotta shove it in deeper than that. I’m sure they’ll show you, pet.” Spike continued backing up away from her and the two uber-vamps as they grabbed her.
Spike stopped a few feet away and began to sing, “Early one morning, just as the sun was rising . . .” as the two vampires overpowered Buffy and raped her as Spike had suggested. Buffy struggled against them, but in her weakened state, she was no match for the two uber-vamps. She screamed in pain as they took her, fighting against them until she finally, thankfully, passed out.
“Rise and shine, Goldilocks!” Spike chimed happily a few hours later as he knelt in front of the still unconscious Slayer. “Ding! Ding! Time for round three!”
Buffy stirred at the sound of his voice, but when she tried to move the pain stopped her. She moaned and lay still again on the cold, wet floor of the dungeon.
“Now com’ on, luv. What happened to all that quick Slayer healin'? You’re a disappointment, you are.” Spike sat back on his heels as he waited for her to move again.
“Fuck you,” Buffy said, barely above a whisper.
Spike smiled. “No, luv, think you’ve got it backwards.”
Suddenly strong hands grabbed her and sat her up unceremoniously. She screamed in pain as she was dropped down on her ass on the hard floor, her back against the dungeon wall. Looking up she saw a Turok-Han standing over her and she shut her eyes, willing this all to go away. To be a horrible nightmare.
When she opened them again, Spike was near her, still squatting down, eyes level with hers. "You can stop it, Buffy,” he said to her in a soft voice as another stake fell onto the floor next to her. She grabbed it up and held it tightly in both hands.
“Do it, Buffy. You can stop it, luv. Just dust me and it’ll be over.” Spike leaned forward, his face now only a few inches away from hers. He began to sing softly, “Early one morning, just as the sun was . . .”
Before he sang another word, Buffy plunged the stake into him. After the rock hard sternum of the Turok-Han, the stake went through Spike like butter, like he wasn’t even there, and his face, the face she loved more than anything in the world, dissolved into dust in front of her. She turned to defend herself against the uber-vamp that had been standing next to her, but it had also dissolved into dust.
Buffy clung to the stake, holding it tight against her chest and slid down onto her side on the cold floor. Curling into a ball, she cried for her lost soul mate, the love of her life, the father of her child. She thought of Annie, their sweet child who worshipped her father. How on earth would she be able to tell Annie that he would never be back? Never sing to her again, never cover her face with kisses again, never anything again . . .
"Why? Spike, why? Why . . . why? Oh, God, Spike . . ."
She couldn't understand why he’d turned on her so horribly.
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