Cause and Effect

Thanks Mad Hatter and Neo! : )


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Chapter Four
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Spike heard voices. They were bleary and distant, sounding almost as though they were coming to him through water. **Drugged! I was drugged!** Spike's eyes snapped open and the dim room around him came slowly into focus. He jumped to his feet, only to be caught short by the chains hold him. He growled, incensed that he'd made such a useless effort to escape -- and had been so easily subdued. He *was* grateful, however, that he could stand -- surprised in hindsight that he *could*. He didn't feel quite so helpless while standing on his own two feet.

"Now, now, Vampire," came an unexpected voice to his right, startling Spike into jumping.

He gasped, feeling as though his heart had nearly started beating again. **How the fuck do they *do* that?** He hadn't smelled or heard the doctor approach. Spike frowned. He *still* couldn't. There was no distinctive human scent -- no scent at all. There wasn't even a heart beat to be heard -- though Spike could clearly see the doctor's pulse throbbing rhythmically in his throat.

"If you don't behave yourself, you won't get fed, Vampire."

Spike glared at the human malevolently, but realizing the uselessness of continued struggle he remained silent and still, using the time to try and figure out what was different about the human. How did he mask it all?

"That's better," Doctor replied smugly, setting Spike's teeth on edge. Raising an arm, Doctor signalled someone Spike could neither see nor hear.

Other came in carrying a mug. Spike's dismay grew when he realized he couldn't smell or hear the beating heart of Other, either. Was it him? Had they done something to him? **No,** he thought instantly. He could smell the blood. He couldn't place what kind it was, however, and had to resist a disgusted wince. It certainly didn't smell very appetizing -- not as if it had 'gone bad', just . . . not good.

Other came forward, wearing a cocky, arrogant grin, and shoved the mug in his face, positioning the straw right in front of his mouth.

Spike *really* wished he had the luxury of refusing the repugnant smelling stuff, but knew if he did, he probably wouldn't get any at all. After only a moment's pause, he drank. Having missed dinner, and then having been wounded, his hunger overrode his pride. **Ugh!** It tasted even worse than it smelled. Until this very moment, he hadn't thought anything could taste worse than pig's blood. He'd been wrong.

"Not up to your usual standard, Vampire?" Doctor asked, chuckling.

Spike didn't answer until he'd sucked the last of the astonishingly vile blood out of the mug. It took care of the worst of his hunger only. "I've had worse," he lied.

Doctor laughed heartily then. "Liar," he said bluntly.

Spike shrugged in response, not willing to get into a debate with the human right then. Especially since the man was right.

Doctor rose, crossing toward him. Reaching out a hand, he tightly gripped Spike's chin.

Spike wrenched his head back, away from the human's touch, and winced as his head hit the wall behind him, but didn't say anything.

"We'll tame you, Vampire. Why waste your time trying to resist?"

"You may have tamed *them*," Spike retorted, referring to the corpse-like figures that had been manacled to the wall before he'd been drugged, at the same time asking himself what the hell he was doing trying to provoke his captor, "but you won't tame me."

"You know something, Vampire? They all said the same thing."

Spike didn't respond to that. Of course they had. He turned instead to stare at Doctor. He blinked once as a wave of dizziness hit him. "You . . . the blood was drugged."

Doctor nodded, his smile growing, which, from Spike's new perspective, was beginning to look sinister.

"Impossible," Spike protested automatically, "I would have smelled it."

"Not likely," Doctor responded lightly. "My drug of choice is odorless as well as tasteless. It would be difficult to drug a vampire otherwise . . . don't you think?"

**Well, duh!** Spike thought, completely ignoring the memory of one other group that had successfully drugged vamps through food, and just barely managing to keep his sarcastic thoughts to himself. He wasn't quite sure where his newfound restraint was coming from. When this was all over, and he was safe and sound, trying to sleep in his cold, quiet crypt, he was absolutely positive he was going to be 'suddenly' coming up with all sorts of wonderfully biting come-backs -- and kicking himself for not having thought of them when they would have been most effective. For now, however, he was grateful for it. Blinking, Spike frowned. There was a flaw in the Doctor's line of reasoning somewhere, he just couldn't figure it out at the moment. His thinking was getting too muddled. He didn't even bother to really try thinking it through before he responded. "There's something wrong with that," he said bluntly.

Doctor laughed. "Yes, there is, Vampire, and I imagine it'll come to you . . . eventually."

"Why?" Spike asked suddenly, jerking his head to indicate the room -- which was now spinning slowly. "Why do all this?"

"That's a long story, Vampire. I'm sure it would bore you."

"Bore me," Spike retorted. He really wanted to know what was driving this human. Besides, boring was certainly better than other activities he could think of -- activities this room had been designed for.

"Once upon a time. . . ."

Spike rolled his eyes.

". . . .there was a vampire. He was a mean vampire. He was a vampire that led other vampires. He held their limited loyalty by virtue of fear and intimidation. His name was . . . well," Doctor grinned, "we'll leave his name for later. It'll be a surprise."

**Whoopie!** Spike thought dryly, but didn't interrupt Doctor's narrative. The last thing he wanted was for the human to get impatient and decided to move on to more . . . active pursuits.

"This vampire came upon a car -- a car that had broken down in the middle of the night."

Spike could see where this story was headed already. It was an old one, one that had only one ending.

"A man, a doctor in fact, and his family were stranded in that car, waiting for AAA to arrive and help them on their way. Well, this big, bad vampire decided that just wouldn't do. He decided this family wouldn't make it home that night, not most of them, anyway. He and his minions grabbed them, but they didn't drain them right away, no. This vampire held the doctor while the minions tortured his family, whispering graphic explanations in his ear the entire time his wife was being raped repeatedly. He whispered while this doctor's wife and two young chil wer were drained of their life's blood, and dropped to the ground like yesterday's rubbish."

Spike blinked through his growing befuddlement. **That sounds like something Angelus would do,** he thought. **He always did go in for the emotional torture as much as the physical.**

"But, the thing is, this vampire didn't kill the doctor like he had the family. He didn't even really torture him -- not physically. He ripped into his neck, drinking just enough blood to leave the doctor weak and disoriented. He tore the skin just enough to leave a blatant physical reminder of all that had happened. Then, laughing as he dropped the doctor to the ground beside the bodies of his beloved family, this vampire called his minions off, leaving the doctor there with one final phrase repeating in his mind. "See ya 'round, Doc.' "

**Masterful,** Spike thought.

"Now, you still want to know that vampire's name, Vampire?"

Wondering all the while why Doctor was making such a big production out of the anonymous vamp's name, Spike nodded, as much of his concentration spent on remaining standing as on hearing Doctor's answer -- though he did suspect he may already know.

"His name was Angelus."

**Yep!** It was just as he thought. There simply weren't that many vamps out there who took *that* kind of meticulous care in their torture -- especially in what appeared to be a random, unlucky encounter.

"You've heard of him? Yes?"

Spike's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. There weren't many vampires who'd been around any length of time who hadn't. It should be safe to admit it. "Yeah, I've heard of him. He's been around a while."

Doctor nodded. "Yes, that's what I've heard as well."

"So," Spike asked, desperate to keep Doctor talking as his own strength waned. Perhaps if he kept the human talking long enough the drug would wear off. It wouldn't be the first time the heightened metabolism of being a vampire had saved his ass, "because Angelus killed your family, you go around torturing vamps in return? You really think that's going to bother him? Vampires aren't exactly real big on species loyalty."

Doctor shook his head just a fraction. "No, no, no. You don't get it. That's not my plan at all. Those others you saw? They were simply guinea pigs -- test subjects if you will."

"Test subjects for what?" Spike asked warily, not sure he really wanted to know the answer -- though the sinking feeling in his gut gave him a pretty good idea.

"Ah, see, now *there's* an intelligent question. You see, this vampire had a family as well. I did my research, and like you said, vampires really aren't well known for loyalty to their own kind. They *are*, however, known for loyalty to their families -- well, at least for protecting what they consider theirs."

Spike nodded absently, *really* starting to hate the direction this conversation was taking.

"I'm sure you'd agree that any vampire worth his salt would consider his Childer *his*, and just might be a tiny bit upset if someone messed with them . . . right?"

Again Spike nodded, even as his mind screamed at him. **Lie you git! What if he knows who you are?**

"So, I'm just another guinea pig, then?" Spike asked, hoping, despite his growing conviction that Doctor knew exactly who and what he had.

"No," Doctor replied simply, grinning, and this time Spike knew he wasn't imagining the malicious pleasure behind it. "You used to be called William the Bloody. You used to be called Spike."

"Hey!" Spike protested. "I still am Spike." **That doesn't matter you idiot! Focus on what's important!**

Shaking his head, Doctor stepped much closer, invading Spike's personal space. "No, you're not. You're name here is simply Vampire. You *have* no other name -- Childe of Angelus."

**Oh, bugger me!** He was royally screwed. Somehow, that thought seemed to steal the rest of his remaining strength and he sagged against the chains binding him, though he did manage to keep his head up. "So, what? You gonna torture me? Kill me? Hope *he* finds out what you've done?" Spike asked sarcastically, his returning rush of fear making him defensive. "Do you really think that's gonna make up for what happened? Do you really think that's going to make you happy?"

"No!" Doctor shouted. "What would make me happy, would be to have my family back in my arms again. This is merely a good second choice, and it's nothing so random or ill-considered as you seem to think, Vampire. Yes, we're going to torture you -- that's a given. You eted ted as much, yes?"

"But more than that," Doctor continued gleefully, not waiting for Spike's reply, but circling around in front of the vampire to whisper in his ear, "we're going to break you. We're going to *tame* you. We're going to take you away from him, but we're *not* going to kill you."

Spike's eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Doctor certainly couldn't mean what it *sounded* like he meant. It hadn't ever been done -- not by humans at any rate. "No”, he whispered hoarsely. "It's not possible." Spike shook his head, now desperate to clear the muck from his mind. It didn't work. The room simply whirled faster around him, making him dizzy and nauseous.

"Oh, yes, Vampire. When you leave here, you won't be you anymore." Doctor snickered then. "Vampires and other such demons alike aren't real good at keeping secrets. When we dump you off, someone will find you, and *eventually* Angelus will hear the tale. It'll spread like wildfire -- the mighty *Spike* -- William the Bloody -- brought low."

Spike growled, or tried to; it came out as more of a whimper -- to his everlasting disgust. **I *hate* drugs!**

"And it begins now," Doctor said ominously as he turned and walked away.

Spike frantically tried to struggle to his feet -- and failed. There simply wasn't enough strength left in his muscles for him to move. Barring that, he tried to focus on the blurry, non-scented, figures approaching him. He swore inside his mind when he couldn't even do that properly -- at least he thought he did.

Wrenched upward suddenly, the manacles circling his wrists and ankles fell away, but Spike was again helpless to even try to take advantage of it as he was dragged forward. He had absolutely no clue where they were taking him, his mind and thoughts a useless, messed up muddle.

The blow came out of nowhere, landing squarely on his cheek and set him flying across the room to land in a sprawling heap on the floor, the back of his head impacting against the cold stone. **Can't see, can't think, but bloody hell that hurt!** A sound, suspiciously similar to a whimper escaped him. He could no more have stopped it than he could have gotten up and walked away. However, it sounded to Spike almost as if it had come from someone else. Nothing was real anymore. Everything that happened was as if it was happening to someone else. It didn't affect him at all.

**Bloody fucking hell!** Spike thought as someone's hand shoved down into the wound in his chest, ripping it back open. **Except the pain.** It was odd, he thought, how everything else faded away to unreality, but the pain stayed. It was the only thing that was real. **Oh hell, is it real!** With no time to process the pain, Spike was unceremoniously flipped onto his stomach, his jeans ripped off him. **Hell, no, not *that* too!** He struggled again, but his two captors held him firm.

A overly warm touch on his backside startled a yelp out of him, a third presence making itself known. The gloating laughter from behind him, enraged him. He clenched his eyes shut, desperate to regain some semblance of control. "Takes three of you, does it?" Spike taunted. Wanting something, anything to happen *other* than what these three obviously had planned. "Not man enough to do it yourself?"

The laughter sounded again, making Spike grit his teeth, but surprisingly, found himself released, the only hand remaining on him the offensive one that rested lightly on his exposed bum. He scrambled forward, cursing under his breath when his drugged body refused to cooperate and all he succeeded in doing was tripping over his own tangled limbs.

A third laugh sounded behind him as two hands grabbed his hips, roughly hauling him backward and up.

**NO!**

"It might have been better for your pride, Vampire, if you'd kept your mouth shut. See, it takesy mey me, only one, to get the job done," the gleeful voice hissed as white hot pain skewered Spike from behind.

He screamed, pain and rage mingling in his drug fogged mind. Refusing to give in to the urge again, Spike ground his teeth together, resolutely refusing to let a single sound emerge from his mouth. Then, mercifully, feeling as though he were being split in two, everything faded completely, and he knew only blessed darkness.

***

Wrenching back to awareness with awful swiftness, Spike found himself strapped down. He could only make the smallest movements with any part of his body, and that bloody blindfold was back in place. It made the painful, and completely unnecessary, reminders shooting through his insides all that much more glaring. He let out a shaky breath. He'd survive this. He'd suspected it would happen from the beginning, after all. Why was he so upset about it now? Closing his eyes, despite the darkness behind the blindfold, Spike shuddered. Somehow, it wasn't really a comforting thought. All he could see -- feel -- was the man who'd been behind him, the *human* who'd gone where no one but Angelus had gone before. At least Angelus hadn't actually *forced* him, not in the true sense of the word.

Until this moment in time, he hadn't thought actual penetration would make that much difference. He'd had just about everything else done to him against his will, just never that particular humiliation. He'd thought having another take his blood against his will was the worst thing that could happen to him, that this, in comparison would be nothing. Oh, how *wrong* he'd been! Yes, the other was worse, it hit on the instinctive fears of a vampire, but this followed a very *very* close second. He wished he still had the luxury of his incorrect belief.

For long moments Spike could feel nothing but fury, but all too soon that faded enough that he began to feel the residual pain again, and along with that, other less pure emotions began, -- ones that vampires shouldn't be feeling -- helplessness, violation. He felt . . . dirty. He shuddered again. With another shaky breath, his mind asking him why he bothered, when he didn't *need* to breath, he tested his bonds again -- just to be sure. Then, strained his senses to listen. He couldn't hear anything. He was alone -- at least he was pretty sure he was. He certainly couldn't hear any movement. **Of course,** he ruefully admitted to himself, **that doesn't mean jack!**

At least he was free of that drug's influence. That, at least, was a blessing. He chuckled without any true amusement; he did have to admit that whatever it was 'Doctor' had given him, certainly had one hell of a kick.

He heard the merest whisper of a sound just before a hand gripped his upper arm. He jumped, his skin crawling from the unwanted touch. He wanted nothing so much as to crawl away and never be touched again. "Wanker!"

A voice chuckled, but didn't speak.

"Who's there?" Spike asked, more for something to say than because he really cared who it was.

The wanker didn't answer, but Spike suddenly felt a painful prick in the crook of his arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded angrily. The bloody wankers were drugging him again. "Can't do it without drugs, can ya?" he taunted loudly, hoping Doctor was watching.

He tried to pull away, but the restraints still held firm. Fire burned in his veins, spreading slowly from the puncture site. He bit his lip against the intense pain, and as he waited for his mind to wander and his strength to fade away, he heard whoever had wielded the cursed needle move away, or rather, he stopped hearing those faint sounds that indicated someone was very near.

To his utter surprise, his thoughts remained clear. Not understanding why it wasn't affecting him the same way this time, but taking advantage of it, Spike turned his attention to ways he could make himself immune to Doctor's plans of conditioning. He wasn't an idiot. Despite the fact that 'it had never been done before', he knew damn well that if they kept him long enough, and worked him over the right way, they *would* break him. No one could hold up forever. He was equally sure the all-but-dusted vamps who'd been hanging from the wall when he'd arrived had been broken. All four of them had looked like they'd been to hell and back -- twice, and had then made a third trip just to make sure they knew the way.

He shuddered. He didn't mind a little pain with his pleasure; he didn't think there was a vampire out there that did, but truth be known -- a little of that went a very long way. He jerked his head to the side. **What was that?** He listened carefully. He *knew* he'd heard something, but several minutes passed -- he had no way of knowing exactly how many -- and nothing new happened. The silence was getting to him. Yeah, that was it. There was no sound here. No sounds at all except for the rustle of his own clothing each time he moved.

He cleared his throat, the sound loud in the dead silence of the room. He laughed. **Dead silence?** He shois his head -- or tried to. It was slow to respond, moving only sluggishly. "So, *that's* what the drug was for," he said aloud. "What was it?"

**The mother of all muscle relaxants?**

"A muscle relaxant?" he called out questioningly, echoing his thoughts, and wondering if there was even anyone in the room to hear him, or if not, if someone was at least monitoring him. Could they hear him? He seriously debated not moving, not saying anything at all. If he did that long enough, would they get bored? He laughed nervously, near-hysteria momentarily getting the better of him.

He tried it though, acknowledging -- what felt like hours later -- that the only person he was boring was himself.

"Of course," he said to himself finally, "I could be completely alone, free to do whatever I want."

**Leave me alone long enough, and I'll find a way to escape,** he thought rebelliously. Unfortunately that thought set him to wondering how long he *would* be alone. How long would they leave him here -- unattended? He swallowed. The thought was *not* as appealing as it should have been. One thing he'd never been able to handle well was being alone. He didn't like it -- never had. And since becoming a vampire, he pretty much hadn't had to do anything he didn't like doing . . . with a few notable exceptions. **And recently,** he added. Doing it now went against everything he had left of himself.

He was *not* going to give into this. He'd been Angelus' Childe long enough to recognize mental torture when it was rammed down his throat. Unfortunately, that knowledge didn't seem to help much when he was the one going through it. Tensing, he pulled against his bindings, his frustration nearly exploding when his arms and legs refused to do much more than twitch weakly. The spot where the bastard had drugged him twinged painfully, and he froze instantly. **An IV drip?** he thought hysterically. They wouldn't even have to come back to keep him weak and helpless!

**They have to come back to feed me,** he thought frantically, envisioning being completely alone for weeks on end. Doctor had told him he wanted him to last. Then rolling his eyes at the inane idea that he could trust anything Doctor told him, and the near hysteria that had produced the thought, Spike abandoned that avenue of thinking, and began slowly counting -- just as he had in the car. That, at least, would help him keep more accurate track of the passing time. He *really* hated being alone.

He reached 7,000 long before he fell into a fitful sleep.


TBC
Kiristeen
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