Descent
by
C. Woodhaven
Part Thirteen
Spike tapped the ash of his cigarette in the ashtray on the breakfast bar. He was watching Dawn putter around the kitchen making coffee wearing nothing but his tee-shirt. She was nearly useless without it when she got up. The coffee, not the tee-shirt. Likely that was his fault; he kept her on vampire hours, and didn’t let her get enough sleep on top of that.
She was moving slowly, they’d played pretty hard last night and she was likely still sore from his attentions. Ever since the thing with Chad a few weeks ago, she’d wanted him to push her more. She’d started to crave the pain and the pleasure he gave her with it, and he was more than happy to oblige.
He hadn’t bruised her, at least on the surface, but he could tell she ached. He’d have to give her a massage later.
She surprised him, something that didn’t happen often. Well, it happened more often with Dawn than with most humans. Was what made her special, enchanting, actually. When he’d told her he loved her, Spike was surprised to find that he’d meant it. He’d been holding that final admission for a well timed moment. And he hadn’t planned on actually meaning it.
But like with all his plans, things changed, and Spike rolled with them. It wasn’t like he didn’t care for her at all, but he’d buried that part of himself deep when he’d been scorned by Buffy, and he hadn’t any interest in dredging it up again. Ever.
He’d respected Dawn and wanted to possess her, even loved her a bit, but not like this.
Wasn’t like he wanted to write poetry or any of that sodding William-y crap, thank Christ. But after worshiping at the altar of Dru and burning in the fire of Buffy, what he felt for Dawn was…refreshing. She was a protégé; someone he could teach and mold, sure, but also someone he could share things with. Was a different sort of feeling all together. Didn’t make it any less powerful, or less true.
Besides, just looking at her made him hard and she was always ready to have a go.
He rose, stubbing out his cigarette just as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot. Spike crept up behind her silently as she leaned against the counter, her shirt riding up, giving him a lovely view of her bare ass.
He grinned at her surprised sputter when his hand snaked beneath her shirt. Whatever admonitions she been about to offer, died on her lips as he pressed firmly on her tattoo.
She froze at once, her heart pounding now from something other than fear. “Oh, god!”
“Like that do you?” Spike continued to press his mark as he unbuttoned his jeans with the other. She was fully open and slick for him from that single touch and he slid right in.
She pressed her ass against him, pulling him deeper. “What did you do?” she panted.
Spike chuckled as he fucked her slowly. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Uh huh.” She nodded, her hair whipping back and forth.
Ever since she’d gotten marked, he’d deliberately touched her tat every time she’d come for him – forging a connection between the two acts. Now, he’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted, she became fully aroused at a single touch.
He slid his hands back, gripping her hips and thrusting harder. “You’re such a slut for Daddy, aren’t you?”
“God, yes!” She pushed her coffee mug aside and lay across the counter, gripping the edge for leverage as she pushed back against him.
His hand slid between her legs finding her clit hard and swollen. “You want to come, pretty baby?”
“Oh, please…yes,” she replied, nodding crazily again. “Please...Daddy.” The last word came in a breathy whisper, barely audible even to his sensitive ears.
“Come for me, Kitten.”
She screamed as her orgasm crashed over her, bucking wildly against him.
He let go of the tiny bit of control he had left and pounded into her. She loved it when he took her roughly; the bit of pain he gave her as he hit the edge of her cervix only prolonged her orgasm. She was still quivering when he spilled inside her.
Spike fell forward, draping himself against her back, panting.
“Love you, Kitten,” he whispered, kissing her neck, his arms sliding around her waist.
“I love you too, Spike,” she sighed happily.
“Got somewhere special to take you tonight, love. Have your coffee and get dressed.” He gave her a final kiss on the neck, and then slid out of her, before tucking himself back into his pants and buttoning them up.
“Where?” she asked, turning to look at him, her post-coital lethargy suddenly gone as curiosity took hold.
He grinned and winked at her. “You’ll see.”
~*~*~*~*~
Dawn was nearly vibrating with excitement and curiosity, trying hard to pry out of him where they were going.
Spike laughed but remained tight lipped.
They ended up at one of the newest clubs on the strip; it was popular and full of cheerful drunken revelers blowing their way though their college funds.
“You wanna dance?” she asked, sounding a little disappointed at his choice of venue.
Spike shook his head, scanning the room and the crowd.
“So, what then?” Dawn asked, sounding perplexed. Before she could question him further, Spike took her hand and led her through the club, bringing her past the bar and dance floor, and up a set of stairs to one of the balconies. It would be a bit quieter up there, and a good vantage point for what he had planned.
Spike knew that he should wait to turn her, but he didn’t want to. No telling what could happen to bollix things up if he held off a couple of years. Better to do it soon, and be done with it. He just needed a bit more time to get rid of a few more morals. That way, there would be less of a change when the demon took hold. It would make the transition more…seamless. This was the Dawn he’d fallen in love with and the one he wanted by his side. Not some bloodthirsty stranger wearing her face.
He guided her to the railing so she could overlook the throngs below, and then slid in behind her.
Her heart rate picked up as he pressed his groin against her backside, looking to all the world like a horny couple fooling around. It reminded him of the first night he’d come back and found her at the Bronze.
He placed a soft kiss on her neck, and she shivered.
She was about to turn around when he whispered gently in her ear. “Shh. Watch the crowd.”
She let out a shaky breath, but she shifted so she could look down at the people below her. “What am I looking for?”
“You wanted me to stop taking care of you, to let you have money of your own. You still want that?”
He heard her heart quicken once again in her chest, and smiled.
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.
“Those people down there, they’re all marks. Easy picking if you know what to do.” He didn’t tell her that usually they were also easy prey. She’d learn that in time. “You’re special, pet. Better than any of them down there.”
She shook her head, but remained silent.
“Yeah, you are.” he said firmly. “Not a single one of them wouldn’t piss themselves if they saw a vamp. You held your own in a roomful of ‘em that wanted to kill you, and then you turned the tables on them. You didn’t even flinch.”
“I don’t know if I could –” Dawn shook her head. But he could hear the uncertainty in her voice. The promise of independence was calling to her.
“Pet, it’s a game. That’s all. You use anything you can, brains, looks, magic.” Spike replied. “You’re such a clever girl, I bet you could charm the knickers off any of these blokes. Some of the birds, too.”
Dawn stiffened at that, and he could practically hear the gears turning in her head.
“Not telling you to sleep with them,” he growled. “I’ll tear their throats out. Bit of flirting is different.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding. “And then what?”
“You take what you want. Money, baubles…cars…whatever,” Spike replied.
He watched as her eyes randomly flicked over the revelers.
“So, what do you say, Kitten. You interested in learning the tricks of the trade, so to speak?”
“I –” she hesitated, and then nodded, “Yes.”
“That’s my girl.”
~*~*~*~*~
Tara gazed out the window into the waning sunlight, thinking of Dawn as she did every day. She unclenched her fist, looking at the small crystal in her palm. There was a red spark glowing within the clear crystal. She breathed a sigh of relief that Dawn was still alive. That was something.
She had been such a wreck when she and Willow had broken up, and watching Dawn slip further and further away from everyone was too much to bear. She knew that feeling well, she’d been the same after her mother had died, and before she’d escaped from her father and Donny. She saw herself, maybe too much, in Dawn, struggling to find her way in a world with no one to give her guidance. So Tara had done the only thing she thought was right at the time; enabling Dawn to leave with Spike.
It was a decision made from her heart, with the purest of intentions, but now, all the reasons she had seemed so… flimsy.
“You okay, baby?” Willow asked, sliding her arms around Tara’s waist from behind.
Tara nearly screamed and immediately closed her hand around the crystal, her heart pounding in her chest. She had been so focused she hadn’t even heard Willow come in. “Y-yeah, sure.”
“Are you sure?” Tara could hear the frown in Willow’s voice.
Tara turned in her lover’s arms and smiled brightly, she’d gotten frighteningly good at faking cheerfulness around Willow. “You just startled me. I was thinking...” Tara trailed off.
Willow nodded. “About Dawn, I know. But we’ll find her. I haven’t given up hope. You shouldn’t either.”
Tara nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Willow interpreted this as doubt, and leaned in, pressing her lips against Tara’s.
They stood there, kissing softly for a few moments. The normalcy of it nearly brought tears to Tara’s eyes. She didn’t want to lose this, lose Willow again.
When Willow pulled back, she whispered softly. “I’m so glad you moved back in here with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you.”
Tara had to struggle against the intense urge to vomit, but she managed a smile.. “I love you, too.” The truth, but weighted by so much guilt, she was almost suffocating from it.
Willow returned the smile, and then flicked her hand in the air. A beautiful iris appeared between her fingers, which she held out to Tara. “Milady.”
Somehow, Tara couldn’t find it within herself to criticize Willow’s inappropriate use of magic in the light of her own deceit. She accepted it, inhaling the sweet familiar scent. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”
“Come on,” Willow said, tugging her toward the door, “Let’s put that in some water, and then we can go out and help Buffy patrol.”
Tara nodded and followed, slipping the crystal surreptitiously into her pocket. Something had to change; as much as she loved Willow, the guilt of what she’d done was tearing her apart.
Part Fourteen
Ever since Chad had died, it was like a seal was broken. Spike started being more open with his killing. More and more often he would come home in the early morning hours with blood on his hands. Or Dawn would find him cleaning his knives, just as she was coming into the kitchen to make coffee. She knew he was doing it on purpose, no longer allowing her to bask in ignorance.
Most of the time, she was surprised that those things didn’t bother her. They still played their games. He kept her sane, and kept taking care of her. She felt her boundaries being pushed and found she didn’t care.
Whenever she did start to feel uncomfortable with his extra-curricular activities, Dawn would start finding newspaper clippings on the bathroom counter, or propped against the coffee pot. They all had headlines like ‘Father Implicated in Bludgeoning of Twin Toddlers’ or ’12 Additional Bodies Discovered Beneath Sarasota Rapist’s Second Home’. She got the message. People sucked too.
Dawn knew that they were headed for some kind of confrontation. The dancing around each other wasn’t going to last forever, even if she wanted it to. The night everything came to a head started like so many others. She’d put on one of his favorite outfits, a barely there leather top that pushed her breasts up dramatically and magically gave her tons of cleavage, a tiny leather skirt, and sheer black hose.
In Vegas, there was always a new club opening, and this weekend was no different. The club had a whole retro-70’s disco theme going on. Spike seemed kind of nostalgic about it; apparently he’d been in the original club back in New York.
She was a little apprehensive, disco was so dead. But the place was fun and campy, rather than dorky. They danced for awhile and then found a table off in one corner. Spike left her and went to get some drinks.
Dawn had to chase off several losers who tried to chat her up. She silently wished that he’d taken her to a demon club, she never got hit on there, they were all afraid of Spike. Part of her flushed with pride, because some of them were a bit afraid of her too.
She frowned when she realized just how long he’d been gone and started to get worried. She was just about ready to get up and go find him when she spotted him out on the dance floor with a short blonde woman: a short, blonde, incredibly trashy woman.
Dawn’s stomach clenched as she watched the slut and Spike grinding into each other, totally oblivious to the rest of the dancers on the floor. Every now and then, Spike would lean in and whisper something in her ear, and the tramp would give a full bodied laugh, throwing her head back and smashing her fake tits into Spike.
When they finally decided to stop screwing each other on the dance floor, they both headed back to the table. Spike had his arm thrown casually around the girl’s shoulders, and was occasionally nuzzling or kissing her neck.
“I thought you were getting drinks,” Dawn hissed through gritted teeth as the two of them sat down at their table.
The girl focused on Dawn for the first time, squinting at her through narrow, drunken eyes. “Your sister’s kind of bitchy, huh?”
Spike shrugged and reached into his front pocket, tossing Dawn some cash. “Yeah, got a little side-tracked on the way, be a pet and get me a beer while you’re up?”
Dawn glowered at Spike.
“Ohh, I’ll have a Bloody Mary,” said the slut, who spoke directly to Spike, pointedly ignoring Dawn.
Spike seemed to have dismissed her as well; he was currently toying with the buttons on the slut’s nearly transparent white shirt.
Dawn knew what he was doing. He’d taught her how to use her body, anything she had to get what she wanted. It still fucking hurt to see him playing touching someone else. She was seriously considering getting a cab home. As she grabbed the cash, she felt Spike’s hand clamp down on top of hers. She looked up and he was staring intently at her, with that look, the one that made her melt. The one that said ‘you’re mine and I know your every thought’.
“Beer, pet,” he said, forcefully, but with none of the indifference. He let go of her hand.
“Whatever,” she replied, marching off to the bar.
She whispered a quick incantation, ensuring that the bartender would serve her. Then, she used the same spell to force him to add an unhealthy level of Tabasco and pepper to the trollop’s drink. She ordered a rum and coke for herself, and almost got an American beer for Spike, just to piss him off. In the end she picked a Harp instead of the Guinness he wanted. Served him right. Besides, she figured that sticking with an Irish beer wouldn’t get her ass tanned as badly. Last time she’d gotten him a Sam Adams, she couldn’t sit comfortably for two days. She smiled at the memory and then scowled. Stupid asshole vampire.
She drank half of her cocktail before she left the bar, postponing her return to the table. Dawn really didn’t want to see what they had gotten up to while she was gone.
Finally, when she couldn’t put it off any longer, she made her way back to the table. When she got there, Spike and his new date were making out like there was no tomorrow.
The girl was nestled in his lap, grinding her hips into him.
In fact, Dawn wasn’t completely sure that they weren’t actually having sex right there in the club until she saw Spike’s hand slide up the girls skirt and start tugging on her g-string. Dawn had to fight not to throw up.
She didn’t know if she was happy they weren’t fucking, or pissed that he was flaunting his game in her face. If she’d been even half as friendly with one of her marks, Spike would have lost it. But if that’s how he wanted to play, she could give as good as she got.
Dawn slammed their drinks on the table, sloshing some of Spike’s beer out of the glass.
“Sorry” she said, smiling with false sweetness.
When the slut realized that drinks were there, she de-leeched herself from Spike’s face, and swiveled around to grab her glass. She guzzled about half of it in one gulp. Instantly, her face turned red and she began sputtering and coughing, spilling the rest of the drink onto her shirt, staining it a gingery color.
Dawn, who had been sipping on her drink, tried real hard to look concerned, “Are you ok?” she asked, grabbing a handful of the cheap paper napkins from the dispenser on the table.
The girl got up and started trying to wipe herself off. “What are you, stupid? I’m going to wash this out,” she said to Spike as she headed off toward the bathroom.
“Now, pet, that wasn’t very nice,” Spike said sternly, but his eyes were dancing merrily. He grabbed his beer and took a sip. He frowned for a second looking at it, then back at her.
She shrugged at him, feigning nonchalance before she finished her drink. She twirled the glass around for a few moments, rattling the ice in the bottom of the glass for a second before setting it on the table. All designed to convey that she was bored with the conversation. Of course, Spike saw right through that.
“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” he asked.
“You’re kidding, right?” she demanded, giving up any pretense. She gestured in the general direction that the other girl had gone.
“Doesn’t mean anything, just having a bit of fun,” he said.
Dawn just raised her eyebrows at him.
He shrugged, “She came on to me in the bar. What should I have done?”
“I don’t know, offered to show her the end of your pointy teeth maybe?” Dawn replied nastily.
“You’re jealous?” he asked, incredulously.
For the first time in a very long time, Dawn couldn’t place the expression on Spike’s face. It was almost as if he were waiting for something.
“I just wish you’d just eat her and get it over with!” she said, spitefully.
Spike’s expression turned predatory, and then he smiled wickedly. “Done.”
He was gone before she could take the words back.
After he’d gotten back to the table, they left. He handled her gently, holding her close and rubbing her back, whispering softly in her ear. Dawn didn’t speak the entire time.
As soon as they got home, he gently stripped off her clothes and washed off her makeup before laying her on the bed and binding her hands to the headboard. He kissed, licked, sucked and fucked so many orgasms out of her that she couldn’t tell where she ended and the bed began when he finally released her. When his mouth wasn’t occupied in making her come, he whispered over and over how proud of her he was, and how much he loved her.
He snuggled up with her, gently stroking the skin on her belly as they fell asleep.
The last thing she heard before falling asleep were his words whispered in her ear. “So beautiful, my sweet.”
~*~*~*~*~
Dawn awoke the next morning, still wrapped in Spike's possessive embrace.
He’d obviously been waiting for her to wake up, because as soon as she opened her eyes, he pushed himself up on his forearm, looking down at her intently, searching her face.
She glared up at him. “I’m not talking to you until I’ve had some coffee.” She tried to pull away from him, but he would have none of it.
He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “Don’t need to go anywhere,” he said softly.
“Coffee,” Dawn replied flatly.
He sighed heavily, and rolled to the side, letting her get up. Dawn felt his eyes on her as she stood up on still wobbly legs to get dressed. She threw on an oversized tee shirt - one of hers, not his - and went to the kitchen.
She went through the motions of making coffee, but her mind was a million miles away, still trying to figure out what she was going to say to Spike. She had to think fast, he wasn’t going to leave her alone for long.
Before the coffee had even finished brewing, he sauntered in, as if nothing was wrong. His hair adorably mussed in porcupine corkscrews, wearing only a low slung pair of sweats – looking smugly satisfied with himself.
Dawn lost it.
Before he could speak, she strode across the kitchen and slapped his face.
“You asshole!” she shouted, and then slapped him again “How could you?”
He looked stunned for a second, and then shifted into his demonic visage. “You know what I am,” he said coldly, “Don’t play the martyr, pet. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Don’t pull the fangy thing with me Spike. I know you're a vampire; I’ve never had illusions about that. You played me last night.”
“Well, yeah,” he replied, shifting back to his human face, “What was I supposed to do, ask you to pick someone out of the crowd?”
His honesty startled her out of anger. Dawn closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gain some measure of composure. When she reopened them, Spike was looking at her belligerently. If anyone else had seen that particular expression, they wouldn’t be able to see past the anger. But alongside the hostility, she also saw the tell-tale signs that he was worried.
When he was angry, Spike kept his hands open, hanging loosely at his side so he could strike. They were now crossed tightly in front of his chest. Instead of his eyes assessing the room preparing for possibly scenarios, they were boring into her.
In his intense blue eyes, she saw the real truth: he was afraid of losing her and was trying to figure out how to force her to stay.
Her eyes welled up with tears, “You let her touch you, Spike” she said plaintively, as the tears began to spill over her cheeks. “You touched her,” she added quietly.
She missed the triumphant expression that crossed his face, as he came forward and hugged her tightly, crooning softly to calm her down.
“You treated me like I wasn’t there, just so I’d give you permission to kill her,” she sobbed.
“Shh, it’s ok, sweet. I’m such a bad man. I’ll never do it again” He was stroking her back gently and kissing her hair.
When her crying had subsided, she pulled away from him and said, “No more games, Spike.”
He raised his eyebrows, disbelieving.
“I’m serious. No more manipulation. Just tell me directly what you want from me. Don’t pretty it up by pretending like you did last night.” The hurt and betrayal that she felt when he was with that girl was so much worse than knowing she’d sent Spike off to kill her.
He looked at her, measuring her words and then replied, “All right, Kitten.”
Coffee forgotten, she allowed him to carry her upstairs and into bed. He made love to her, gently and sweetly, telling her she was perfect and he never wanted to leave her, and washed away her jealousy and pain. It was as if a knot loosened around her heart and she felt free.
She thought later that she really was evil. That what was left of the key inside her was twisted and wrong, possibly from disuse. Or maybe when she’d brushed so close to the portal to Glory’s dimension, some of the evilness had taken hold, seeping into her skin and corrupting the goodness of the slayer genes she had been made of.
She knew now what Spike was trying to do with her. He wanted to cleanse away all of her humanity, so that once she was turned, she’d be the same person.
She also knew she couldn’t let him do that.
~*~*~*~*~
Dawn fingered the talisman, it was now or never. She had made certain that Spike was going to be out all night. There was a huge poker game that he had been looking forward to all week. Texas Hold 'Em was quite popular with the demon set, too.
She remembered Willow telling her about the charm. If you change your mind, give us a chant.
Willow sounded…strange…the one time she mentioned it, a mixture of disgust and pride. The talisman was one of the few things Dawn had ever felt bad about stealing. Not super bad, but her conscience twinged a bit knowing she’d taken something so personal from Willow. At the time, part of her had hoped Willow would notice and ... anyway, that part of her life was over. She had Spike, and he noticed everything. Which meant she’d better get started, or she’d have lost her chance.
She cleared a space in her spell casting room and locked the door. Dawn felt a little foolish doing that, Spike could break it down in less than a second, but she locked it just the same.
Honestly, Dawn wasn't totally sure if this would work for her, but she had to give it a shot, she really didn't have too many options left. Spike was never patient about anything. As far as he was concerned, instant gratification took too long. She really didn’t know how much longer she had left before he planned on turning her.
She sat cross-legged on the floor, and lit a candle. She held the talisman with both her hands and began chanting.
It didn’t take long before a huge puff of smoke appeared and a smug voice said "I always knew you'd call someday, Miss Rosenberg."
The figure turned around as the smoke dissipated. "What can I do for –who the seven rings of Hell are you?"
"I'm Dawn." she answered nervously as she stood up. “Dawn Summers. Willow used to live with my sister. I kind of borrowed your talisman.”
He looked at her appraisingly for several long moments. Dawn felt uncomfortable and tried not to squirm.
Finally, he held out a hand to her and she shook it.
"D'hoffryn. What can I do for you, Dawn Summers?"
Part Fifteen
Dawn was curled up comfortably on the couch watching a movie when Spike came home. He was all smiles, which meant he’d played well, although there was no telling what he won. Once he’d come home with an iron maiden; Dawn was afraid to ask where it had gone.
He grabbed a beer from the kitchen, popping the cap off with his thumb and grinning madly as it pinged along the counter before it came to a rest next to the sink.
Dawn watched him out of the corner of her eye, pretending not to look. She had to purse her lips together tightly, trying very hard not to giggle at the mischievous joy on his face.
Spike’s smile froze and he stopped abruptly several feet from the couch. He dropped the bottle and was on her before she heard it hit the floor. He hauled her up by her tee-shirt, easily holding her aloft.
“What did you do!” he demanded, shaking her slightly. His eyes were cold and hard.
“W-what?” Dawn stammered, trying to wrap her head around what was happening. She’d never seen him like this. He never, ever, tried to hurt her in anger.
His voice got even colder. “Don’t make me ask again, kitten.”
Suddenly she understood what he was asking. Dawn had no idea how he knew, but she wasn’t going to lie to him when he was like this. “I-I summoned D’hoffryn. A-Anya worked for him.”
Spike studied her for a moment, as if he were gauging her answer for something. Finally, he seemed to come to some sort of decision because he set her down on the floor.
“Upstairs,” he said curtly.
Dawn’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t possibly mean punish her, really punish her, in their playroom. Some of the weapons he kept in the house … she didn’t want to think about it.
“You disobeying me?” The icy tone made her stomach clench, and this time his eyes flashed yellow for a moment.
“I’m afraid,” Dawn said in a very small voice. She was shaking
“You sleep with him?” Spike asked, his jaw tightening.
Dawn’s face crumpled in confusion. “What? Eww, no! Whole worlds of no.”
His face softened almost imperceptibly. “Then you’ll be fine. Go on; don’t make things worse for yourself.”
Dawn hesitated for another second, unsure, and then leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “I love you,” she said firmly, before she turned to walk up the stairs.
She was well out of earshot when he replied, “I know, kitten, that’s what makes this so hard.”
~*~*~*~*~
Dawn was kneeling formally when Spike arrived. Her hair was pulled up in a tight bun, out of the way. The wrist and ankle cuffs she had chosen weren’t the ornate ones he usually liked her to wear. She'd selected a set that were thicker and more durable, pointedly refusing to analyze her own actions.
He didn’t bother with formalities, swiftly binding her hands to the bar hanging from the ceiling and tethering her ankles to the bolts in the floor.
She had recently shaven and his mark was very prominent. He placed a thumb on it, pressing hard. Dawn felt her body react, as it always did.
“You still mine, kitten?” he asked.
“Always,” she whispered and her voice broke. Tears start to spill down her face.
“Shhh. Save your tears, sweetheart,” Spike whispered, leaning in and rolling his forehead across hers, wiping her tears away gently with his thumbs. “You’ll need them later.”
A small sob escaped and Dawn was forced to shut her eyes, trying to regain control. She refused to disappoint him.
“Tell me why you summoned him, Kitten?” Spike asked suddenly. He was behind her now, his voice strangely neutral and cold. “Won’t make your punishment less, but I want to know.”
“I can’t,” Dawn replied, wishing desperately that she could tell him, but he wouldn’t understand; all he would see was that she was defying him by not wanting to be turned.
“Last chance.”
It took everything she had to shake her head. “I’m sorry, Spike,” she whispered mournfully.
“So am I.”
The words had barely registered before she felt the stinging blow across her back. A sizzling line of fire shot across her shoulder blades, nearly knocking the breath out of her. She wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t broken the skin. Before she could take stock and analyze the sensation any further, she felt a second stinging blow and then a third swiftly on its heels.
Dawn screamed, and all thoughts left her head.
~*~*~*~*~
The pain went on and on. Dawn struggled to maintain herself, but it was nearly impossible. Spike was too good at what he was doing. But even though the pain was huge, she still couldn’t bring herself to respond to Spike’s demands for an answer.
She told herself that she was holding out for him, trying to protect him from the truth. But eventually, Dawn had to face the fact that she was afraid Spike would leave her if he couldn’t have what he wanted.
So she stayed silent through the agony, unable to force the words past her lips. She was damned either way. She wanted to tell him, hated herself for disobeying, but she stayed silent. For him, she told herself.
Finally, he stopped striking her. Every inch of her hurt, and she was certain that she felt blood dripping down her back. She pried open her tear swollen eyes to see Spike looking at her with such disappointment.
“I never wanted it to come to this, Dawn, but if you don’t tell me, I’m taking this.” He grasped Tara’s ring on her finger and began to rocking it back and forth trying to slide it off. “Keep silent and the lot of them will be able to find you.”
Dawn felt as if her heart stopped and her world collapsed. Spike didn’t want her anymore. She knew that was always a possibility, but to hear it out loud was more than she could bear. The pain in her body was dwarfed by the tide of icy grief that crashed over her, threatening to swallow her whole. Dawn shuddered and finally broke.
She was sobbing incoherently now, finding that even though she wanted to speak, she couldn’t. There was a thick lump in her throat that the words couldn’t get past.
She vaguely realized that Spike was removing the wrist and ankle restraints before he helped her to the bed, so very careful with her damaged back.
It seemed an eternity before his words made sense, but they finally penetrated her grief slogged brain.
“Baby, I’m so sorry. You can keep it, I promise. I wasn’t going to really take it. Talk to me, Dawn.”
“Please, don’t turn me,” she whispered, her voice creaking.
“What?” Spike asked sounding surprised that she’d cottoned on to his plan. She would have smiled at his bewilderment if she wasn’t dying on the inside.”
“Promise me,” she demanded, panting. The edges of the world were starting to take on a reddish black tinge. She wondered vaguely if she were dying.
“Dawn, I can’t …”
“Please?” she begged, hysteria creeping into her voice as she began to struggle against him weakly.
Spike nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. His voice was thick with emotion as he replied, “All right.”
“Thank you,” she thought she whispered, laying her head against his chest. She was so tired that she didn’t even feel the blackness overwhelm her.
~*~*~*~*~
Tara looked nervously around the room, unable to help herself, even though she knew she was alone. Her overwhelming guilt made her skittish and untrusting of her surroundings.
She lifted the lid of her jewelry box, and pressed a tiny button concealed beneath the decorative lip. The hidden compartment swung open and Tara removed the crystal hidden within.
Lately she’d taken to checking Dawn’s life-force several times a day, again unable to help herself. She swiftly whispered the incantation and nearly dropped the crystal to the floor. Instead of displaying the healthy red glow Tara had come to expect, the center of the crystal was an sickly bluish-green.
Dawn was unconscious.
Tara’s hands shook as the bluish-green shimmered and then flared a bright yellow. Her hand tingled suddenly, nerves zinging with the unmistakable feel of powerful magicks and then the crystal went dark.
Tara panicked and quickly said the incantation again, praying fervently that the magicks used simply cancelled out her spell. If they hadn’t, she had just watched Dawn being turned.
She held her breath, watching. Nothing was happening. Tara’s heart began to pound in her chest.
Time seemed to have stopped, but Tara was unable to look away.
She let out a choked sob as the briefest glow of pink began to form in the heart of the crystal, blooming into a solid red.
Dawnie was alive, at least for now.
Tara dropped the crystal as her stomach clenched tightly, and she sprinted for the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet and lifted the lid before the bile rose in her throat and she retched.
She had no idea how long it was before she felt Willows arms were around her, pulling her close, stroking her sweaty hair. “Baby, please, you have to tell me what’s wrong.”
“I know,” Tara agreed tiredly, but she remained silent.
“It’s been weeks. You don’t sleep…you never eat…” Willow’s voice cracked. “I’m so worried. We all are.”
“I know,” Tara repeated. She had no idea how she was going to force the words out, but she had to tell the others what she’d done.
“Whatever it is, I promise, I’ll understand,” Willow assured her.
Tara knew this was a lie, even if Willow didn’t, and it was like a knife twisting in her gut. She deserved this, but it didn’t make it less painful.
Tara pulled away from Willow, studying her lover’s face: bright green eyes misty with tears, worried frown on her lips and deep concern etched in every line.
“I love you, Willow,” Tara said earnestly, knowing it was possibly for the last time. “I’ll always love you.”
The concern deepened on Willow’s face. “It can’t be that bad.”
Tara felt a tear spill down her face as she reached up to stroke Willow’s cheek. One last touch.
“Yes, it can.”
~*~*~*~*~
Spike carried Dawn to their bedroom, laying her on her belly and covering her carefully.
It took less than ten minutes to have a healer up to their suite, and then only five more for the incantation to take hold. Spike hovered next to the bed, waiting until her breathing shifted from unconsciousness to sleep before dismissing the demon.
He stripped off his clothes and sat on the bed, gently sliding beneath the covers so as not to wake Dawn. The sheets pooled around his hips as he leaned back against the headboard, thinking.
Even deep within her healing sleep, his kitten gravitated toward him. She pillowed her head on his thigh and her arms curled around his hips. He began to stroke her hair reassuringly, although, which one of them he was trying to reassure wasn’t clear.
Spike had no idea how he’d fallen so hard and fast for this slip of a girl, but he had. If he hadn’t been certain that he loved her before, he was now. When he’d come home and realized she’d invited another demon into his home, he’d lost it. He’d barely managed to hold himself back from treating her like a vampire instead of the fragile human she was.
What really shocked him was that she’d taken everything he’d done without a word of protest. Not to say she was silent; she’d screamed herself hoarse. But never once had she begged him to stop.
She was so bloody stubborn; he finally had to resort to threatening to leave her and to expose her to her sister and the rest of them before she’d cracked. And didn’t that work well; now he’d promised not to turn her and he didn’t even know why.
Part of him wanted to turn her right now, never let her wake as a human again and be done with it.
She’d forgive him in time, she always did. But he was curious, and that bought her a reprieve. He wanted to know why she was so adamant that he not turn her, why she’d risked him nearly beating her to death, because it was a damn near thing, and why she'd summoned another demon into his home just to avoid becoming a vampire.
So Spike sat and stroked Dawn’s hair, waiting for her to wake.
She had some explaining to do.
~*~*~*~*~
Dawn woke by degrees. Spike was here and she was warm, comfy and relaxed. She snuggled closer to him, hoping that they didn’t have to go anywhere today.
Spike was stroking her hair, and she was drifting off again when the memories of her conversation with D’hoffryn, and what happened afterwards, crashed over her.
Dawn sat up with a start, bracing herself for the explosion of pain. She was shocked that it never came.
“Healer,” Spike said, his tone neutral.
Dawn barely heard him as she looked down at her hands to confirm she was still wearing Tara’s ring. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m sorry for threatening to take it, Kitten.” Spike said softly as he reached out to stroke her arm.
Dawn realized she was naked, and pulled the covers up over her breasts. “Why’d you do it then?”
“Was at the end of my rope,” he admitted, “Didn’t know what else to do. I’d beat you nearly half to death and you still wouldn’t talk.”
“I thought you didn’t want me,” she confided in him while still looking at her hands, and feeling strangely calm.
She lifted her head to look him in the eye.
“Dawn, I’ll never not want you,” he said seriously. “I’d kill anyone I had to, to keep you with me.”
And wasn’t it sad that his admission made her feel warm inside. “But you want me like you,” she prodded.
Spike sighed, “I just want you with me. Is that so wrong?”
“No,” she replied honestly, shaking her head. “That’s what I want, too. More than anything.”
Spike frowned, confused by this. “So, what’s the problem then?”
“Because it won’t work: the monks, when they made me, they took part of Buffy and wrapped it around the key.” Dawn paused and took a deep breath, looking at him earnestly. “But they had to have something to stick it together so it wouldn’t fall apart. Something strong.”
Spike frowned deeper for a moment before realization sunk in. “Your soul.”
Dawn nodded. “If it’s gone, the other parts will fall apart. I’ll just go back to being a key, and some leftover slayer parts.” She grimaced at the image that welled up in her mind: her empty skin and tangled hair being left in a heap at Spike’s feet, looking rubbery and cartoonish.
“Pet, you can’t know that,” Spike countered, and then perked up. “Besides, if your key bits are immortal, maybe you are, too.”
Dawn shook her head sadly. “It doesn’t work that way. That’s why I summoned D’Hoffryn. Anya kept her soul when she became a vengeance demon. I thought, that maybe… he’d give me a job.” She laughed sadly. “That didn’t go so well. He was apparently pretty impressed that I flaunted sleeping with you to Buffy, but otherwise, I really didn’t make much of a bump on the vengeance scale.”
Dawn shrugged and looked away.
Spike realized that she still thought he was going to turn her loose. He grabbed her hand and tugged her into his lap, arranging her so she was straddling his hips and laying her head against his chest. “We’ll figure something out, Kitten. I promise,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.
She didn’t lift her head, but looked up at him, her blue eyes wide with hope. “You think?”
He nodded. “Yeah, Million ways to make you immortal, pet, we just have to find the right one. Then we can leave and I’ll show you the world: London, Rome, Sydney, Moscow, Bangkok. Anywhere you like.”
“Paris?” she asked eagerly.
He almost grimaced as thoughts of Harmony flitted through his head. “Yeah, love, we’ll go to Paris, if you want.”
As Dawn snuggled into his chest, he stroked her hair again until her breathing evened out and she fell asleep.
He’d make a few calls later, and check with Jerva, maybe, to see if what she’d said was true. Too bad he couldn’t tap into the resources at Wolfram and Hart; they’d surely be able to give him an answer in less time than it took to ring them up. He wasn’t fool enough to trust them, though. He wouldn’t put it past them to try to extract the key out of Dawn, even though it didn’t open anything anymore.
Thing like that could be pretty powerful.
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