The Birthday Present

Chapter Seventeen


Oz hesitated when he got to the doorway to his bedroom. The sight of the bloodied body of Spike, once again threatening to make him heave. What the hell had happened to him? Oz glanced at the telephone on the side table near the bed: should he call for an ambulance? Let the experts take care of Spike? God knows what damage might have been done to him. Oz swallowed hard as he saw the bloodstains trailing down Spike’s thighs.


Oz walked to the bed and reached out to pick up the phone to call for help. With the past history of Spike’s injuries sustained in the car wreck, then surely the safest place for him to be would be the hospital? As his fingertips touched the phone, he stopped. For a reason that he couldn’t really figure out, Oz turned away from it and instead, put the first aid kit that he held in his left hand on to the bed beside Spike.


“Oh, Spike. I hope to God I’ve made the right decision in not getting you to a hospital. Something weird is going on with you, of that I’m sure,” muttered Oz as he opened the box.

One look at Spike’s left hand had Oz going in to the kitchen to get a bowl of warm water; he added a splash of antiseptic solution and returned to the bedroom. He gently washed the blood from Spike’s body. Oz shuddered as he cleaned Spike’s penis, the ring in its tip had been torn almost completely out. He looked at it closely but could see no way of opening it to take it out altogether, and so decided to leave it as it was for now. Spike never stirred throughout Oz’s attentions, and he could barely see Spike breathing. When he reached the valves in Spike’s navel, Oz’s courage failed him. All three of the small valves looked as if they had been dislodged and one was leaking blood.


“Oh, hell. I can’t deal with this.”


Oz stood up and took the bowl in to the kitchen to get some clean water. When he saw his cell phone on the counter he didn’t hesitate. He pressed number one on the handset, a speed dial setting. He tapped his fingers on the counter impatiently as he waited to be connected.


“Willow! Hi, I’ve got a problem and I really need your help,” Oz said, his voice wavering a little.


“Oz, what’s wrong?” replied Willow. “Are you okay?”


“Yes, I am, but I’ve had a friend turn up here in real trouble, Will, and I’m worried that I’m doing the wrong thing by not taking him to a hospital.”


“Why aren’t you?”


“Um…I’m not really sure,” said Oz. “It’s just that he’s been abused and if I take him to a hospital, the person who did this will find him.”


“It sounds like you need to call the police and an ambulance, Oz. It’s not your responsibility,” said Willow, ever practical.


“Yeah, I know, but I did say that I’d help him,” said Oz. He sighed. “You’re right; I ought to get him to a hospital. He was injured in a car wreck a few months ago, and one of the tubes in his stomach looks like it’s damaged and God knows what other damage has been done. He’s been unconscious since he managed to get here.”


“Tubes?” said Willow sharply. “There’s more than one? In his navel?”


“Y…yeah, there are three,” replied Oz. “How did you know?”


“How did you get to know him?” asked Willow, her tone a little more normal.


“He’s Lindsey’s boyfriend, but their relationship is a bit odd, and Spike told me that Lindsey’s dad had abused him.”


In the bedroom, Spike groaned and slowly began to surface.


“So, they both know where you live?” asked Willow anxiously.


“Yeah,” confirmed Oz. “Crap, you don’t think they’ll come here do you?”


Willow smiled wryly. “I’d say that it is a given. They’re going to want to find their property.”


“Property? You’re not making any sense, Will. What do you mean?”


“He’s a vampire. One that’s been through the program.”


“A vampire!” Oz’s shocked voice carried through to Spike. “What, like you see advertised everywhere? Those controlled toys?”


Spike began to tremble as he heard what Oz said.


“Yes, Oz. You know that I work on a project rehabilitating people, right?”


“Yeah.”


“Well, I’ve never told anyone before, but I help vampires who have been captured and programmed but who have managed to escape, or else we buy them cheaply at yard sales.”


“Hell, Willow, I had no idea that they were sold like that. How do you get them back?”


Oz meant how did she manage to help the vampires in her care but Spike could only hear his side of the conversation and was terrified.


“He knows! Oh God. I’ve got to get away.” Spike was certain that Oz wouldn’t want to help him now that he knew the truth. His vision swam as he pushed himself until he was sitting up. His head was absolute agony. “Christ.” He dropped his face in to his hands. He was close to panic.


“It’s a long story – too long to tell now,” said Willow. “Look, I’ll come over right away and take him to a safe place.”


“Where will you take him?” asked Oz.


In the bedroom Spike began to pant in distress. Just when he thought that he’d reached a safe place the rug was being pulled out from under him.


“Better you don’t know. With your own little problem, you don’t want The Initiative paying you too much attention,” said Willow.


Oz paled. The fact that he spent three nights of every full moon in a specially adapted room at Willow’s home, was a secret that none of his circle of friends knew about. Okay, so he got a little hairy and couldn’t be trusted not to try to eat someone, but that didn’t make him a bad person did it?


“Come as quickly as you can. I think you’re right – I need him out of here as soon as possible. The sooner he’s where he should be, the better.”


“No,” whispered Spike. He couldn’t go back. Not to Lindsey and not back to the labs. More and more memories had reared their heads, and none of them were pleasant. He twisted his body intending to bring his feet to the floor and to get away from the person who was obviously not a friend anymore. What actually happened was that he fell helplessly onto the floor, landing face down and squealing as he crushed his abused genitals.


Oz spun around when he heard Spike. “Got to go, Will. Spike’s awake.”


“Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”


They both hung up and Oz dashed to the bedroom, and Willow to her car.


“Spike! What happened?”


Spike didn’t respond for what seemed like an age. He didn’t try to turn over or even look at Oz. When he finally spoke his voice was low and bitter. “So when are they coming to take me away?”


“What do you mean?” said Oz, squeezing between Spike and the wall of the room. He put his hand on Spike’s shoulder. “Let’s get you back on the bed? Why are you laying there? Did you faint?”


He tried not to look at the thing in Spike’s ass, but couldn’t tear his eyes away. How could something that wide…? He shook his head and shifted his gaze to the back of Spike’s head. Spike’s hair was plastered to his scalp with a combination of dirt, sweat and – Oz shuddered – bodily fluids. It was pushed up from the nape of his neck and just at the hairline Oz noticed a faint mark. He squinted and leaned forwards to see it more clearly, he took a sharp intake of breath when he saw what it was. Here was the proof, if he still needed it, that Spike was a programmed vampire – a possession – the mark was a barcode.


“Christ, like on the cans in the supermarket!”


Oz was appalled. He liked Spike. He didn’t quite know what to think right now.


Spike tried to shrug Oz’s hand off his shoulder. “Get off me,” he snarled, then yelped as the movement ground his body in to the floor. “Don’t act like you fucking care. I heard you arranging to get me taken back.” To Spike’s horror his voice broke a little.


“Hey, man. Calm down. I was just talking to…Look, let’s get you back on the bed, it’s dumb you lying here on the floor. Come on, lean on me.” Oz put his hand under Spike’s arm.


Spike pushed up with his arms. “I…I…can’t move my legs. Oh, Christ, I can’t get up. He’s done something to me.”


Oz put both of his hands under Spike’s armpits and pulled him upright. The stocky boy was stronger than he looked and soon, Spike was lying on his back on the bed. Oz tried not to look at the fresh blood on Spike’s penis, and pulled the bed-sheet over to cover his nakedness.


“Okay, so I guess you heard me on the phone?” said Oz, sitting on the bed.


Spike wouldn’t meet his eye. “Yeah, I heard you arrange to get rid of me. What, there’s a reward for the safe return of sodding vampires, is there?”


“I have arranged for you to be taken to a safe place, not to go back to Lindsey or the labs.”


Spike glanced up at Oz, his blue eyes holding a little hope. “Really?” he whispered. “But you know what I am? Why would you help me? Lindsey’s dad made it clear what my purpose is.”


“Did he do this?”


Spike nodded.


“Was Lindsey there?” Oz had to ask.


Spike shook his head. “No.” He saw the relief on Oz’s face as he realised that his friend wasn’t there; it was soon replaced by disgust as Spike continued. “But he gave me to his dad to use for the weekend in return for the rent paid on our…er…his apartment.”


“Holy crap, Spike. Um…did they do something to make you love Lindsey? From what I’ve heard of vampires that have been through the program, they don’t act like you did. I really thought that you were human.”


“You and me both,” said Spike dryly.


Further conversation was halted when Willow arrived at the apartment. She startled them as she burst in. Oz had given her a key years ago when she found out about his problem with the lunar cycle.


Spike jumped at Willow’s speedy entrance, and pulled the sheet a little higher up his chest. Willow looked him right in the eyes.


“Hey,” she said softly. “I’m Willow; I’m here to help you.”


Spike shifted slightly under her gaze and after a few moments, dropped his eyes. He didn’t know what to think, let alone say. For weeks, all that he knew was what Lindsey, or rather Warren, had permitted him to know. The memories and emotions that he was currently being bombarded with made him feel close to panicking. He glanced at his useless legs. Somewhere in his jumbled mind he knew that it had happened to him before; several times before. Images of brightly lit, white walled rooms. Pain and then collapse, and then more pain but then the ability to move returned. He began to tremble violently and he hated himself for it. He closed his eyes as the images in his mind showed his former strong, powerful self.


Oz glanced at Willow anxiously. He took hold of Spike’s right hand and was pleased when Spike gripped it tightly.


“Spike,” said Willow, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed to Oz. “I’m here to help you. You don’t need to be afraid.”


Spike finally brought his gaze back to her face again. “Stake me. That’s what you do to vampires isn’t it? When we’re not controllable?” His words were carefully enunciated and quietly spoken. His eyes bored into Willow’s. She met his hostile stare calmly.


“You won’t be staked. That’s not what we do. Trust me when I say that we’re the best chance you have of getting somewhere near to normal. But you have to decide if you want to come with me, quickly. It’s dangerous for you here. Your owners know Oz, and it will put him in danger if you are found here.”


“I’m not owned by anyone,” said Spike, his voice was strong but he didn’t look at them.


Willow smiled, pleased to hear his words. Perhaps he hadn’t been completely broken by the program after all? “I know. But that’s not how they will see it. So, do you agree to come with me?”


Spike looked at Oz. “Don’t want to cause you trouble.” He smiled weakly, and turned his eyes back to Willow. “So, I guess I’m all yours. Thing is…the bastard has shut me down. I think staking is an option now don’t you? Easier for everyone.”


Spike wanted to be the former self that had visited him in his dreams, and who now was taking a starring role in the memories that he felt he was drowning in. It was too much. He’d had enough. Time was up.


Willow smiled brightly. “I’m sure we can do that.”


“What?” yelled Oz, glaring at her. “What the hell are you saying, Willow? You’re not killing him – I won’t let you!”


“Oh!” Willow was horrified. “I didn’t mean that I was going to stake him! I meant that we can get around the shut down.” She looked at Spike. “We’ve done it before.”


Spike stared at them both in silence for a moment before speaking. “Well, we’d better get going then, I reckon. How am I going to get down those stairs?”


Oz grinned at him. “If you don’t mind it being a bit undignified, I can carry you down.”


Spike raised an eyebrow.


“He’s wicked strong,” said Willow.


“That right?”


“Yes, it is,” replied Oz. “I’ll get you something to wear and then we’ll get you to the car.”


A few minutes later Oz carried Spike down the stairs and out to the car. Willow had gone out first to make sure the coast was clear, and to wipe away the blood on the handrail. Although Spike had been silent apart from a few low grunts as Oz carried him over his shoulder, Oz knew that the journey to the car had been painful. He could see a fresh patch of blood on the t-shirt that Spike was wearing as he lowered him in to the rear seat. Blood was still leaking from that valve. He opened his mouth to say something but Spike silenced him with a glare and a small shake of his head, and so instead, Oz climbed in to the front passenger seat. As soon as they were all in, Willow drove away.


They had just turned out of the intersection at the end of the street where Oz lived, when Spike alarmed them as he cried out and fell sideways across the seat. Willow began to brake.


“No, keep going,” he rasped. “Don’t stop. McDonald’s just driven past us.”


“Oh, Goddess! Did he see you?” asked Willow, glancing nervously in to the rear view mirror to see if the car had turned around.


Oz twisted around and reached out to touch Spike. “It’s okay, he’s not turned around. He might just be checking the area.”


“Or checking up on you?” said Willow.


“Well, he won’t find anything will he? Good thinking about wiping the handrail,” replied Oz. “I guess you’ve done this before?”


Willow frowned. “Yes, too many times. Are you okay, Spike?”


“Been better,” he said weakly. He’d been terrified to see the face of McDonald looming up as the car approached. He was panting quietly. His body was racked with pain. Spike put his hands protectively across his abdomen and wearily closed his eyes, allowing the movement of the car to rock him gently to sleep.

Spike woke as Willow pulled the car in to the driveway of their destination; a modest house on a pleasant suburban avenue. Oz glanced around. Wherever he thought that they’d be taken, he hadn’t expected this. It looked so normal. Not exactly a place where refugee vampires would be held.


“We’re here,” said Willow unnecessarily as she turned off the ignition.


Spike pushed himself up so that he was sitting and looked cautiously out the window. He saw a light go on in a downstairs room and the door open. A petite blonde stepped on to the porch; Spike’s mouth fell open as he recognised her. She was the girl in his dreams or had they been memories? Had he seen her before he was captured?


“Will? Have you got another one for me?” the girl said.


“Willow got out of the car and they hugged. “Yes, Buffy.” She lowered her voice and added. “He’s in pretty bad shape. He’s had three reservoirs implanted and has been well used.”


“This is just so wrong, Will,” said Buffy. “Let’s get him down to the basement.”


“He’s been coated so sunlight’s not a problem,” said Willow.


“Poor thing, that stuff hurts them so badly,” replied Buffy grimacing.


Oz got out of the car and stood on the driveway, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, unsure of what to say or do. Willow noticed the movement.


“Oh, sorry. Buffy, this is my friend Oz. Oz, this is Buffy.”


Buffy smiled brilliantly at Oz. “Oh, wow! You’re the werewolf”


Oz blushed bright red. “Er…yeah.”


“Cool!” said Buffy. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen a werewolf. Even before The Initiative did me out of a job, the werewolves seemed to have got out of town.”


“Shouldn’t we get Spike out of the car?” asked Oz, anxious to deflect attention from his affliction.


“Spike?” mused Buffy. “That sounds a bit familiar…I wonder if one of our past patients knew him?”


Buffy walked to the rear door of the car and peered through the window. A pair of wide blue eyes met hers, a shock of dirty bleach blond hair stuck up in peaks above them.


As Buffy reached for the door handle, a memory snapped in to place in Spike’s mind. He knew where he had seen her before. He had planned to kill her. He’d observed her for a few days, and had stood mesmerised by the beauty of watching her fight a fledgling when the capture crew had found him. He’d run away as swiftly as he could but not fast enough to outrun the tazer blast that had incapacitated him.


He stared at her as she opened the door and smiled warmly at him. “Hi, I’m--”


“The Slayer,” he snarled.


He felt his face change as he lunged for her. They were going to give him to the Slayer – they were going to kill him despite what they had said. He’d rip the bitch’s throat out before they had time to stake him. Go out fighting. As his hand grabbed Buffy’s slender neck, the chip in his head exploded with maximum charge and it just kept pulsing. Spike collapsed on to the seat. His mouth was forced open by the device that Warren had implanted between his back teeth. The aggressive act of biting had triggered it. Drool ran from his mouth as his eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness.


“Spike!” yelled Oz, ripping the other rear door open and holding Spike’s writhing body. “What’s happening to him?”


“The chip – it’s firing to punish him for trying to bite. It won’t stop for fifteen minutes,” said Willow.


“Fifteen minutes? Oh my God!” Oz was appalled.


“Oz can you help me carry him in?” said Buffy.


“What? Uh…sure.”


Between them they carried Spike in to the house and down to the basement. There was a narrow cot up against one wall but Buffy indicated that Spike should be put in to a strong metal cage built in to the opposite corner. Oz baulked at imprisoning him, but was soon swayed when Buffy told him that until Spike came around from the shocks, they wouldn’t know if he had been brain damaged or not. He might just be a danger to everyone and himself.


They laid him gently on the bed. “What about his wounds?” asked Willow.


“We’ll do them later. Right now, he just needs to survive the shocks,” replied Buffy.


Spike’s face was still in its demon form and Buffy stared at the open mouth. The fangs that she expected to see were merely little nubs, their points barely sticking out from the gums.


“You poor bastard,” she whispered and stroked his face.


“What is it?” said Willow.


Buffy stood up straight. “He’s been de-fanged. They’re trying to grow back but who knows if they’ll be okay. But the psychological damage inflicted when a vampire is de-fanged normally breaks them completely. He might end up being one of our failures, Willow.”

Tbc