Hellraiser: The Angels Beneath

"Well, well. Looks like the lovely B finally went 'round the twist. Ten points for the slaughter. Didn't think she had it in her."

"Faith, please."

Faith shrugged. "Sorry, Wes. Just saying. You all thought I was the crazy one."

"Yes, well, clearly not." Wesley took a deep breath. "I'll…I'll start making the phone calls; the Watchers council, police. Do you…? Do you call an ambulance for a dead…" Wesley's voice caught in his throat and he had to turn away.

"I guess so. Go on, go sit. I'll take care of him."

Wesley nodded and did as he was asked. He righted a fallen chair, sat, and reached for the phone. And which one of the Scooby gang would he contact? The first point of call had always been Giles and then perhaps Buffy. But with the other Watcher dead, most likely at the hands of Buffy herself, the selection of 'responsible' adults was dwindling by the second.

Giles.

After a shaky start a few years ago, Giles and Wesley had become firm friends; firm friends that argued and disagreed as long as the world still turned, admittedly, but friends nonetheless.

And Faith was now the Slayer and guardian of the Cleveland Hellmouth with Wesley as her much put upon Watcher. Time had changed both of them.

Faith was as fiery and brutal as ever, but now she was focused, hell-bent on fighting the good fight and protecting the world from total demon domination. What a rush. The feeling of power it gave her made her head spin. She was needed. They all needed her. The world needed her.

And Wesley, he was barely recognizable as the lanky man that first showed up in his old fashioned suit with his nervous stutter. Rougher around the edges now, Wesley was a man that made you think twice before you spoke to him, made you take a step backwards if his expression darkened and his lip curled.

He glanced over at his Slayer and his heart lifted just slightly as he watched her carefully drape a soft, dark throw over Giles' body. She had come a long way over the years. She was still rash and impulsive, yes, but underneath that steely and cocky exterior was a heart that beat with compassion.

"Who do we tell, boss? Or do you want me to just hunt her down and ask questions later?"

"I…I think a phone call to someone would be in order, Faith. It's just a matter of…who."

"Willow? Xander?"

"I think maybe Spike would be a better idea. Those children grew up with…I'll call Spike."

Faith nodded and looked back down at the body. Yeah, call Spike. Call Spike and start the hunt.

Slayer against Slayer. Again. Should be fun.


**

Spike said goodbye to Tara and thanked her for coming so quickly. He felt guilty that he was having to ship Dawn out, but this was suddenly no place for her to be. Not that she minded. She was more concerned for Xander. The episode had scared her. She hadn't been expecting it and she didn't understand what was happening. The look of sheer relief on her face when she realised that Xander was having a nightmare and was not about to die made Spike's heart ache. That was something she shouldn't have seen.

"Take care of Xand?"

"'Course, Nibblet. And you go get yourself some sleep."

"But it's day."

"Like you've actually been asleep all night?"

"Well…no." Dawn smiled mischievously and for a second Spike could see Xander in her expression; that same bright exterior that switched on when things were cracking up on the inside.

"Then go sleep some, brat."

Spike closed the door before Dawn could protest further. He paused at the kitchen to make a quick coffee and quickly moved to the bedroom where he'd guided Xander earlier.

"Hey, luv. You okay?"

Xander sat up from his curled-up position on the bed. He smiled and held out his still shaking hands for the coffee.

"There you go. Get it while it's hot."

Xander nodded and swallowed a mouthful of the scorching liquid, enjoying the painful burn on his tongue and throat and using it to ground him and remind him that he was outside of the dream world now.

"Gonna talk to me?"

Another silent nod and Spike was climbing over the bed to pull Xander backwards into his arms. "Then talk. Tell me, luv. Tell me what you dream about."

"It started with…I dreamt that someone was raping me."

Spike tightened his arms.

"It was so real. I could feel everything, the fear, the…pain. And…it was every night. Always the same, but…each time I dreamt that it was a different person that was hurting me, someone that I knew."

"Was it ever…me? Did I…?"

Xander turned quickly in Spike's arms and clutched tighter. "No! No, never you. Never."

"Who?"

"It could be anyone," Xander said with a shrug. "Someone at work or maybe someone that I'd seen that day in the supermarket. Once it was…it was Willow."

Spike rubbed his cheek against Xander's hair. "And this was every night, luv?"

"It felt so real," Xander said in response to the question. "And then I just started seeing the one face. It was my dad. And then I realised that…it *was* real. It was a memory."

Spike growled deep in his throat and he felt his features straining to shift into their demon form. "Your dad? Your dad…did this to you?"

"No! It wasn't me, Spike."

"Xan…"

"No, no, all kinds of no. It was a memory, but it wasn't me. It was a memory of something I saw. It wasn't me, Spike. I swear it."

Spike relaxed and realised that he'd been just about to cut Xander's circulation off. "Sorry, pet. Sorry." Some of the tension eased out and he felt Xander smoothing his hands over his back in soothing circles. "Oi, I'm supposed to be comforting you." He felt Xander smile against his shirt.

"Sorry."

"Bloody idiot."

Xander laughed lightly. "Why is it that everything is okay when you're holding me?"

"'Cause I'm sodding marvellous."

"Oh, yeah."

Silence.

"Come on, pet. Tell me what you remember."

Xander took a large, deep breath. "I was a kid. I couldn't sleep. I wandered into my parents' bedroom, like I did if I couldn't sleep or if I was scared. But this time, I saw…um, I saw my dad raping my mom."

Silence.

"Alright. Don't take this the wrong way, pet, but…you sure? If you were just a kiddie, maybe you saw something you didn't understand and…"

"No. I know what I saw. I mean, I didn't realise at the time exactly what was going on, but I remember her screaming and I remember him holding her down. And now every night I see it over and over. I know what he did to her. So now I know; now I know why she was…why she was the way she was. No wonder she killed herself."

Xander's voice turned strained and bitter. "I hated her so much," he finally whispered.

"Not your fault, pet. Not your fault. No matter what happened between her and your dad, they should have looked after you. They should have loved you."

"I'm not sure they ever did."

"I love you, baby. Always love you."

"Make the nightmares stop, Spike. I don't wanna see." There was an edge of desperation to Xander's voice, so Spike held tighter and tried to reassure his lover with just his love and presence.

The phone rang and Xander couldn't help but laugh again. "If that's someone with more bad news, apocalypsy or otherwise, tell them we're not home. In fact, tell them that we moved to another state. Closed for business."

Spike allowed Xander to wiggle from his grasp and lay down on the bed.

"Oh, right. I'm getting it, am I?"

"Unless you want it to ring and ring."

"I'll get it."

Spike picked up the phone and smiled faintly as Xander curled around a pillow and closed his eyes.

"This had better be good," he said into the handset.

Spike listened to the voice. And he felt his heart plummeting.

Oh, god. How was he going to tell Xander?

**

Xander pulled himself straighter and squared his shoulders. "I'm alright. I'm coming. Who else is gonna put you out when the blanket catches fire?"

"You're bloody not alright. And no, you're not coming."

"Spike..."

"You need to rest, luv. Not having you running about when you should be..."

"Spike, you've just told me that somebody else I love is dead. I can't stay here alone. I...I don't want to think about... I don't want to be alone. I want to help. And besides, do you really think it's a good idea for me to be here alone while Buffy's out there picking out her next victim?"

Spike growled. "Fuck." Well, there goes life again, kicking you right in the balls. He reached out and stroked Xander's cheek. "I'll make it better. I'll..."

"I know, Spike. I love you. But let’s just...Lets just sort this out. Let’s just... I want to see Giles. I need to see him. I can't believe that...I just need this."

Spike nodded and took Xander's hand, squeezing tightly in reassurance.

Despite Spike being unwilling to admit that he was ever wrong, he really did have to admit that Xander shouldn't be alone with a crazed Slayer on the loose. Add to that the fact that Xander had been attacked and beaten bloody by said Slayer just two nights ago and you had yourself a little horror story.

Spike had to relent. For Xander's safety he had to agree to let him tag along. But that didn't mean that he had to like it. What with Joyce's death, the beating, and now this, Xander's own sanity threatened to take a drastic nose dive - and possibly a loop the loop.

Spike nodded and started for the door, sighing as he felt Xander following silently and calmly behind him.

Calm before the storm? Spike had never been surer of anything in his life.

**

She searched. She walked the streets and she searched. It almost felt like she was a kid again, choosing a box of chocolates for her mother. She wanted the perfect one. The one that would make Riley happy.

And finally, after searching for an hour which felt like a day, she found the one. Male, of course. No more women for Riley to touch up while he sucked and drank.

Hmmm, and there was a pattern emerging here. Someone else she knew. Maybe it was just that she knew everybody? Or maybe it was just easier than luring a total stranger into your house for a soda or a coffee.

He was easy to lure. He was easy to deceive. Some people were just natural mugs, so easily led by another. So desperate for friendship and attention that they’d do anything you asked.

She even led him by the hand.

He was a sweet boy, really. She’d seen him around, seen him with Xander and another friend from her school days.

She even took pity and let him sit in her kitchen and drink his promised soda. And eat some cookies, too.

“Do you want to come upstairs?”

His eyes widened and his fingers twitched.

Buffy smiled. Like there was any doubt that he’d say yes.

Very, very sad. She was doing him a favor.

“What’s upstairs?”

“Oh, I don’t know. A surprise?”

“I…I like surprises.”

“Come on, then.”

She held out her hand and he took it. Sweet, naive little boy. Maybe she’d give him a small taste before he died.

Maybe.

**

They arrived just as the ambulance was taking the body away.

Sealed up in a black body bag and strapped to a stretcher, Giles was being loaded into the back of an ambulance.

They watched from the car as the paramedics idly chatted, almost complacent in their duty and unconcerned that a person had just died.

To them, it was another death in a town that saw demise and decay in every shadow and in every corner. They saw it every day and every night. This was nothing special. In fact, this call out had been a nice surprise.

No limbs missing completely, no weird slime to get stuck all over your uniform, and, best of all, no twin puncture marks that meant that your cadaver might wake up and try to bite you in the ass on the way to the mortuary. So, to sum up, the paramedics were in good spirits.

"Buffy did this? Buffy did this. Did she?"

Spike placed a hand on Xander's back. "It looks like it. We'll talk to Wes, yeah? See what he's got to say."

"But she did this? She murdered Giles. He's gone and she...I have to see."

"Xan..."

"No! I have to see what she did. I need to see!" Spike's hand clamped tightly over Xander's shoulder and held him in place. "Spike, let go. I have to see!"

Spike gripped tighter and Xander struggled to free himself. The tears threatened to fall and Xander managed to twist around in Spike’s grasp to face him. "Please, Spike. Please," he whispered. "It's my last chance. Please, just to say goodbye."

The eyes were big and pleading, rendering Spike completely helpless against their power. He nodded and released his lover, watching as Xander almost flew out of the car and across the road to the ambulance.

The paramedics protested and blocked Xander's path for no more than a few seconds. Spike approached, wrapped in a black blanket that looked more like a cape. His snarl of warning and flash of teeth were enough to have the paramedics backing away with their hands in the air.

Xander grabbed at the body bag, desperately seeking out and finding the fastening. He stopped for a second and took a deep breath. It couldn’t be that bad. It couldn't be. A broken neck? A dagger to the heart? A sword to the stomach? Xander had seen it all in his time on the Hellmouth, and there wasn't much that could squick him anymore.

It couldn't be that bad.

The fastening was suddenly wrenched and the bag was ripped open.

Oh, god.

Xander lost his mind.

**

Buffy hit. That hammer sure was a good investment.

Riley drank, sucked his blood and milked his life force from his body.

Bones knitted. Flesh grew and covered. Hair sprouted. But it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

He sent her out.

One more. Just one and he’d be done. He’d be free to roam, free to escape, free to once again enjoy the simple pleasures of an everyday man.

One more and he’d be free.

Just one more.

TBC…