The Birthday Present

A/N Thanks K Blood and Alwaysand for your revs - much appreciated :) Rest assured - he will get better and revenge shall be had! But first we have to try to fix poor broken Spike!


Chapter Twenty


Spike drifted in and out of uneasy dreams. He woke, terrified, as he heard McDonald’s voice shouting with delight that he’d found him out on the street. Spike sat bolt upright with a yell. He tried to run and ended up falling off the narrow bed, as his body moved but not his legs. He looked around in confusion for a moment before he realised that McDonald hadn’t found him after all. But he didn’t feel much safer – not after being given that blood that made him vomit. His stomach rumbled loudly and he briefly vamped out, unbidden.


“Spike, are you all right? You haven’t hurt yourself have you?”


Spike nearly jumped out of his skin – he’d been too gripped by the memory of the dream to notice Buffy’s arrival. He remembered what she was and hated himself for beginning to tremble. He lay flat on the ground, making himself as small as he could.


Buffy stared at the prostrate vampire and was at a loss at what was the best course of action. She certainly didn’t want to provoke another chip firing.


“Look, you can’t stay there, and you can’t get up yourself right now so you’re going to have to let me help you. But if you try to bite me, the chip will fire – do you understand?


Spike didn’t move. Just laid there, panting slightly with distress.


“Spike, can I help you?” Buffy urged.


Spike nodded slightly. The Slayer was right – he couldn’t lay here forever. Buffy knelt down and felt him tense as she touched him.


“It’s okay,” she soothed. “Can you turn over? I’ll help to move your legs, and then it’ll be easier to get you back on the bed.”


Spike rolled his torso over, keeping his eyes looking anywhere but at hers. Buffy pulled his legs in line with his body and then slipped her hands behind his knees and the small of his back. Lifting him like she would a small child, and ignoring that he was naked. The fact that he was so tense helped her move him more easily. Once he was on the bed she plumped his pillows and then went to walk away. A hand grabbed her wrist. She looked down at the hand before looking at its owner’s face.


“Kill me.”


“What? No!” Buffy was appalled, which made her feel weird considering all the vampires that she had staked before The Initiative took over.


“Please…I can’t…I don’t…” Spike let his hand fall limply to the bed as his words trailed off.


Buffy sat on the edge of the bed. “It will get better – you will get better,” she said.


Spike put his left hand to his forehead. “It hurts,” he whispered.


“You had a hell of a shock from the chip, so I’m not surprised that it hurts but it will pass.”


Spike shook his head slightly.


“Not the…c…chip. Ever…everything else.”


“I don’t understand, Spike.”


Spike glanced up at her. “I s…see things in h…here,” he said tapping his fingers lightly against his brow. “W…what’s r…real and wh…what’s n…not? Is it a…all…r…real?”


Buffy had no answer to that. She gently stroked the hand that had clutched at her wrist, pleased when Spike didn’t move it from her touch. But a glance at his face told her that he was simply too afraid or too used to doing what others wanted to dare to move it.


“Let me get you some clothes,” said Buffy briskly.


She stood and went to a cupboard at the far end of the basement where they kept a selection of clothing. She took out a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. They’d do for now. Spike had pulled himself up to a sitting position and was watching her suspiciously. A dim image of a hideous checked shirt passed through his brain. He hoped that that was only a dream and not real; some part of him was horrified at the thought.


“Here, let me help you put them on.” Buffy passed him the t-shirt. “I think that you can manage that though.”


Spike took it and obediently pulled it over his head. It was pale blue, and Buffy smiled when she saw how it highlighted the colour of his eyes. He really was good looking, or would be once the haunted look was lost from his expression.


“It suits you.”


Spike glanced up at her, and then back to the shirt. Is that good?


“I’m going to have to help you with the pants. Are you okay with that?”


Spike shuddered but gritted his teeth together and nodded. Buffy couldn’t fail to notice that he now was sporting an erection when she turned the covers back to help him dress. The poor vamps were all the same when they first arrived. She looked at Spike and saw that he seemed even more uncomfortable than he had before – she was surprised that it was possible for him to be.


Spike didn’t know what to do. He knew that his cock belonged to Lindsey. He wasn’t meant to touch it when it was hard; he wasn’t really sure why it had got hard. Maybe it was because Lindsey always wanted him in the mornings. But the red haired one had told him that Lindsey wasn’t here. Would the Slayer want to do something to it? What would he be expected to do to her? He tried to remember if he’d been with a female but his head began to hurt even more, and he just couldn’t get past the images of him having a cock stuck into his mouth or arse. Lindsey had often used his hand on him as he shagged him, but what would she want in return for his relief?


Buffy began to pull the sweat pants over his feet and up his legs. She hesitated at mid thigh, not wanting to touch Spike’s erection. She knew from past experience that they always expected to be treated like meat and she didn’t want to reinforce that.


“If I lift you up, can you get them up the rest of the way?”


In response, Spike pressed down with his hands, arched his back and managed to lift his ass off the mattress.


“Or we can do it that way,” said Buffy, getting hold of the waistband of the pants.


When she had got her hands level with Spike’s penis, the springs of the cot squeaked as his backside hit the mattress. At first Buffy thought that Spike’s strength in his arms had given out, but no sooner had she thought this than Spike took her hand and placed it firmly on his cock.


“Is…is t…this y…yours now?”


Buffy snatched her hand back. “Christ, no!”


Spike flinched at her exclamation. “S…s…sorry.” He began to pant slightly. What was he supposed to do? What was his use if not for that? “I…I didn’t m –”


“Spike,” said Buffy softly, sitting on the bed and taking back the hand that had just held hers. “You have done nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry for yelling. It’s just I get so angry at what they have done to you. You don’t belong to anyone – no part of you belongs to anyone anymore.”


To her surprise, Spike didn’t look soothed by her words. He looked scared. “What’s wrong? That’s a good thing. You have nothing to fear from us.”


Spike raised his eyes to meet hers; they were glistening with unshed tears. “Wh…what am I for? W…why d…doesn’t anyone o…own…m…me. Was I b…bad?”


“Oh, Spike, sweetie, you weren’t bad. The people who owned you are the bad ones, and so are the people who caught you and turned you into someone’s possession.”


“B…but…” Spike’s words trailed away as he gave a sob. He covered his face with his free hand.


“But, what?” coaxed Buffy gently.


“Wh…who’ll t…tell me wh…what to d…do?”


Buffy was about to reassure him that no one would be telling him what to do and that any decisions or actions were his own choice, but she realised that he was more badly damaged than any that they had had before.


“Either me or Willow will tell you. Is that okay? Do you know who I mean when I say Willow? The other girl – the one with red hair?”


Spike visibly relaxed. Maybe his head wouldn’t hurt so badly now? He nodded.


“Now, are we going to get your pants the rest of the way up?”


Spike nodded again and raised his ass up from the bed. Buffy quickly pulled them up; thankful that Spike’s erection had melted away.


“Now get some rest and I’ll go get you some blood.” Buffy walked away from him. She paused when she was on the stairs. “Oh, and you have my permission to touch any part of yourself that you want to, okay? Especially your…um…when you’re hard.”


Spike suddenly smiled at her. It was so brilliant and broad that her first thought was that he was laughing at her embarrassment, but she soon realised that it was a reaction to being told what to do. As his eyes lost their fear, she found herself worrying about what his owners might do to try to trace him. He certainly was hot looking and if he had smiled at his owners like that…? No wonder that one of them had effectively tried to turn him in to as near to a legitimate boyfriend possible.


Spike was very striking with his bleach blond hair – he wouldn’t easily disappear in a crowd like the others that they’d helped would. Luckily, the fact that he had been coated to make him able to go out in sunlight meant that his tracer wouldn’t work. The coating blocked out the signal, and as far as they were aware, the techs in The Initiative hadn’t worked out how to get around that yet.


“I’ll be right back.”


Spike nodded his head. He watched as she disappeared from view. He let his body relax against the headboard of the bed and let out a sigh. He felt much more at ease knowing that there was someone to tell him what to do. He had been told to rest and so he closed his eyes only to be thrust back in to another dream.


He was standing in a dark alley. It was night and yet he could see quite easily. Before he had the time to be puzzled by this, there was a yell and a man came running towards him. Although he wasn’t afraid, he stepped out of the man’s way and stood deeper into the shadows. A slim blonde girl tore after him. Slayer! She caught up with him and rammed a piece of wood in his back, almost falling as her victim exploded in to dust.


“Huh, that wasn’t much fun. A cowardly vampire! What next?” huffed the girl as she dusted herself down.


Spike stepped from the shadows and watched her walk away. Soon, you’ll meet one who isn’t so easily scared.


The dream then jumped to him being thrust naked into a cell. The walls of a vast room were lined with others like him. He wasn’t feeling quite so cocky now, but he still tried to fight as the porters came for him. He got in one bite before he lost consciousness. When he came to, it was clear that he’d been out for some time. He was strapped to a bed – arms and legs spread-eagled. He tried to move his head but it was fastened in to some kind of device that prevented him from moving it a millimetre.


He shouted abuse at his captors even though none were in sight. He struggled against his restraints but they only got tighter, until they felt that if they tightened any further that his limbs would be severed.


When they came, they laughed at his efforts to get free and rammed a thick gag into his mouth. It was shaped like a penis and Spike retched as it hit the back of his throat. This was hilarious to his captors. One slapped his face.


“Better get used to it, buddy.”


Then they shaved him; all of his body hair was removed, even under his armpits. He vamped out as they shaved around his genitals.


“It’s okay – most like these kept on,” joked a technician as he squeezed Spike’s balls.


Spike heard a noise behind him and then passed out as the drill bit into his skull.


For the second time that morning, Spike woke with a cry. Luckily, this time he didn’t fall off the bed. He was panting heavily and was close to panic when he saw Buffy walking down the stairs. In his dream – his memory – he had wanted to kill her. Slayer. He knew that he’d tried to bite her when he arrived, but couldn’t remember why. He ran a hand over his head. At the back of his skull, he could feel a little depression. Was that why his head hurt so badly? He took his hand away when he saw Buffy watching him.


“Sorry,” he mumbled, though not sure why he was.


“It’s okay. Bad dream, huh?”


Spike nodded miserably. He stared with dismay at the cup of blood that she held in her hand. The smell made his mouth water but he remembered all too well how sick he’d been when he’d taken the last lot.


“Drink it slowly,” said Buffy as she passed the training cup to him.


Spike took it from her and began to drink it as he’d been told to. He had to admit that it tasted nice – much better than all the spendings that he’d swallowed over the years. Buffy had only half filled the cup in the hope that his stomach would be less irritated. Spike kept his eyes averted as he drank, feeling uncomfortable under her scrutiny. When he’d emptied the cup, he looked around, wondering what to do with it now.


“Here,” said Buffy, holding out her hand, “give it to me. You don’t feel sick now do you? I’ll get you some more in a couple of hours.”


Spike just handed her the cup. Buffy sat on the bed as he did so.


“Do you feel up to talking?” she asked gently. “There are some things that I need to explain.”


“Okay.”


Buffy thought for a moment before speaking. Willow normally did this part but because Spike had reacted so strongly to Buffy’s Slayer vibes, they had decided that it was better this way.


“Right, I’ll explain what we do here, okay? Then you’ll know what to expect. Afterwards, I need you to tell me what you remember about yourself.”


Spike glanced up at her, his eyes wide with worry, but nodded.


“The most important thing that you need to understand is that you are safe here. When you’re a little stronger, we shall get your legs working again. For this, we will have to access the chip that was implanted in your brain.”


Spike hand reached up and touched the spot at the back of his head that he had felt earlier. Buffy nodded.


“That’s right – that’s where it is. Most of the ones that we help can’t speak when they get here but you obviously can. This means that your chip has been reprogrammed at some point after you left The Initiative.”


Spike’s eyes squeezed shut as he got an image of being worked on by Warren.


“We’ve never dealt with anyone that has been treated like you. Reprogrammed chip and extra drugs put in your system. We have taken away the reservoirs in your abdomen that held them. That’s why your stomach hurt yesterday. Things should get a little clearer for you once you’re totally free of their influence.”


Spike opened his eyes and glanced at his stomach. He didn’t really understand what she was telling him but the tone of her voice was soothing.


“The reason that you’re feeling very mixed up is partly the drugs, but mostly because the chip has messed with your memories. I need you to tell me what you remember. Start with the most recent and then go back from there, okay?”


Buffy and Willow had a feeling that Spike’s reprogramming had erased his memory somehow - otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to behave like he had when Oz had met him. The other vampires were traumatised by their ordeal but they still knew exactly what they were.


Spike closed his eyes, not really wanting to remember. He kept them closed as he began to speak.


“I…I ran away.” On some level, he was ashamed that he had. “Oz…he said that he’d h…help me if I n…needed it.” He glanced up at Buffy as he remembered being in Oz’s apartment and the arrival of Willow. “She came.”


“Do you mean Willow?” asked Buffy.


Spike nodded. “I remember. They br…brought me here.” He shifted uncomfortably and fiddled nervously with his hands. “Then I…I tried to –”


“Don’t worry about that,” soothed Buffy, knowing that he was thinking of trying to bite her. “Do you know why you wanted to do it though?”


Spike shook his head. “N…not sure. In here.” He tapped his head. “I’ve seen you k…kill men…things. Am I like th…that?”


“Tell me what you remember from before you went to find Oz,” coaxed Buffy.


Spike began to shake. “Got hurt. Lindsey g…gave me to his f…father. There w…was lots of them – they all…”


Buffy touched his hand gently. “I can guess what they did, Spike. No need to tell me the details. What about before then? What about Lindsey?”


Spike looked up at her, his eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “I thought he loved m…me. But he g…gave me to…to. Did I do s…something wrong? Why d…did he d…do that?”


“Because he is not a nice person, Spike.” She realised that he was still confused about Lindsey and that the drugs were still at work. “When did you first meet Lindsey?”


“Was in b…bad car wr…wreck, he looked aft…” Spike’s words trailed away as he suddenly remembered being his Lindsey’s room. “But I…I w…wasn’t was I? He stared at her, almost causing her to wince at the pain in his eyes. “He…he…controlled me.” He wiped a hand across his eyes. “How?”


“It’s the chip in your head. A place called The Initiative captures vampires like you--”


“I…I’m a v…vampire? But…I go in t…the daylight.”


He gasped and bent forwards as his head began to throb, images whizzing behind his eyes. The dreams he’d had of being strong hadn’t been dreams – that’s what he had been like. He stifled a sob as he realised what he’d lost. He glared at his useless legs and hated how terrified he felt. He should be strong, not like this.


“They coated you in a substance that makes it safe for you to be out in the daytime,” explained Buffy.


Spike cried out and put his hands up to his ears trying to block out both her words and the sounds of his internal screams as he was lowered in to the substance. God, it hurt. It hurt so much. In his anguish, Spike vamped out. His tiny little buds of fangs came out of inflamed looking gums.


“Stop,” begged Spike. “Please stop.”


“Oh, Spike, I’m sorry. Try to calm down. It’ll be all right. I promise you,” she said with confidence that she didn’t feel.


He rocked to and fro, moaning softly and seemingly unaware of her. She reached out to stroke his back but quickly pulled back as he cringed away from her touch and whimpered. She felt helpless to comfort the poor creature and raged once more at the people who did this every day to others.


“Tell me about it, Spike. It will help if you do.”


Spike stopped rocking and turned his tearstained face towards her.


“How?”


“Sorry?” asked Buffy.


“How w…will it h…elp? W…will it m…make it go a…away?”


Buffy shook her head sadly. “No, it won’t make it go away, but it could help you to deal.”


Spike shuddered. “W…what w…will h…happen to me? Do I li…live here?”


“Yes, Spike, you will live here until you feel able to move on. We’ve got lots of safe places for you to go to.”


“Jacob runs things in New York, Menzie in D.C., Angel in L.A and –”


“A…Angel?” whispered Spike.

Tbc