Truth Denied

Xander screamed Spike's name as the dungeon master dragged a flogger made with barbed wire against his back. Spike ran after him, to free him, to get the masked dungeon master, but no matter how fast or how hard he ran, he never got any closer.

Xander called out his name again and again as worse implements were used: branding irons, the scent of seared flesh danced through his nose, a scent he'll never forget, pliers cut through skin and pull it apart, whips flay the skin from bone, and all other manner of torture, and still Spike couldn't get any closer, but he could see... everything. Every single thing that was done to Xander he could see as well as if he'd been in the same room as them; smell it, feel the backlash if there was one. He saw Xander suffer uncountable cruelties, and he couldn't get there to save him...

Spike woke up with a gasp, lunging at the darkness above him. Nothing was there but the light from the street lamp through the window and the shadow of the tree outside, nothing else. Xander's tortured image was a faded dream, along with the cruel dungeon master he couldn't help but wonder if he drew from some of his Angelus experiences; that laughter had seemed familiar. 

He got up and paced the tiny guest room he'd been given, the light from the streetlight glistening against the sweat on his chest from the nightmare. He knew he'd left Xander alone, but it was only for a few hours... but who knew what could be done to him in a few hours... he hoped they let the human gather himself and rest a little in turn. But probably not, they probably just kept torturing him for tortures sake.

He kept pacing and looked out the window, trying to convince himself that he wasn't convincing himself, that the sky actually looked lighter. He looked at the clock, then his watch and got dressed. He took a deep shaky breath and let it out slowly. This was it. They were riding to the rescue, he was going back into the fight, the good fight, even if it was only for a little while, he was going to be in it. Could he do it? He didn't know, he didn't know if he could do it. Or if he'd die. 

Ben wasn't up yet, and Spike snuck in, and turned off his alarm clock and snuck out. He didn't want Ben in on this, and he needed a back-up plan in case things turned sideways. He went to the kitchen table and got out an envelope from an old bill and wrote out:

“Sorry I had to go without you Ben, but you stay here in case I screw up and need back-up. Here's the slayers’ number, call them. I know Xander will hate being discovered by them, but if I don't make it back I'm going to assume that he's dead and so am I.

Thank you Ben, for everything, you have been... amazing and have given me new life where I thought I wasn't even worthy of my first one. Thank you.

Mind you, if I survive, I'll deny ever writing this ruddy thing”

He signed his name, and the slayers’ headquarter's number. 

He went into his room and grabbed the map and the duffle bag full of weapons and headed out, easing out of Ben's apartment and past the napping cops outside to follow the map. Least this thing is easy to read.

 

~*~

Spike looked at the map and raised an eyebrow, it was an old decrepit mall, with a few stores with flickering signs all flashing going out of business sales. This seemed to be a mall that stores went to, to die, not to do well in, and Spike frowned. He put on the glasses and immediately tried not to flinch.

The mall was entirely more lively than the decrepit look gave it credit for, an entire demon congregation, of all breeds, sizes, and kinds amalgamated here for various stores that without the glasses looked closed or empty, but with the glasses was bustling with activity. Everything from a book store to a spell ingredient shop to a charms kiosk, there was everything and Spike was stunned to see it was all here, hidden under a glamour. He decided that if he survived, he'd have to find a way to shop here, there were things that just drew his attention.

He looked down at the map and frowned, it wiggled to life, the lines inky and straight bleeding into filler for rooms, showing him the different stores in the mall, the kiosks, the names and descriptions, as well as the path he had to take, behind the stores. He took off his glasses and looked at the map and it was back to it’s chicken scratchings, so he put the glasses back on and looked at the map and followed it. He found the doors, and purposely made his way through, no one looked up to follow him, look like you know what you're doing and more often than not, you're left alone to do what you want.

He looked around, and saw no one was there, either specterally through the lenses or physically, so he quieted his boots clomping, and followed the markings on the map. The further he followed the map, the deeper and deeper he went into the mall, until he wasn't sure he could quite remember how to get out anymore. 

Suddenly he heard soft chanting in the distance. He slowed his approach and looked around slowly, eyeing the ceiling, the floor, the walls. That’s when he noticed the tripwire and the loaded hallucinogen gas canisters it was triggered to. He carefully stepped over it. 

These lenses are a damned sight better than my vamp eyes, Spike thought to himself as he kept walking, dodging triggers to other traps till he finally passed them all. This is where his heart hammered in his chest, he was past the defenses and into the stronghold; from here on 

out, anyone who saw him would have no good intentions towards him or Xander.

He ached for his old vampiric ability to melt into the shadows. He depended on his dark clothing and hood to do what he couldn’t, and found the lack of good lighting to his use. He looked around, and saw the hooded monks walk by silently, their hands in their sleeves, faces totally hidden as they traversed the halls in pairs or groups, never, ever alone. Spike always managed to hide, surprisingly, when they appeared, like they didn’t have good eyesight of their own.

He followed the sound of the chanting and listened to it’s rhythmic pulsing, almost like a wave. He eased himself around a corner and saw there was a naked demon walking towards the altar. On the altar was a naked Xander. He took everything in; Xander’s bound, locked form, everyone’s bowed chanting bodies, and the naked, skinless, maggot infested demon walking to Xander. 

Xander lifted his head groggily, “Spike? You gotta get me out of here Spike!”

The demon, smiled a bloody smile and shushed Xander. “Shhhhh, you’re fine, they’re not going to do anything against us, they just want to watch our first time.”

Spike listened and slipped two silver double edged daggers into his boots, and strapped a double edged battle axe to his back from the duffle. Just as the demon straddled Xander and leaned down to kiss him, Spike unsheathed his katana and jumped into the fray, immediately running down the middle row of chanters and decapitated the demon about to lock lips with Xander, sending blood spraying, ruining the designs on Xander’s body, making them run off. The head flew in an arc and hit the wall. Xander screamed Spike’s name, first in anguish, then in confusion when he saw who was wielding the sword.

Spike slit one of Xander’s wrists free and gave him the dagger then held the katana properly again. The monks all threw back their heads and in one voice vocalized, “The father wishes to pray.” They wove back and forth, their throats glowing blue along with their eyes.

Spike heard Xander free himself and when he felt him lean against his shoulder, he spoke; “Everyone is welcome to pray at the temple.” He held his katana out menacingly. “But one more heart, one more prayer where anyone, anything, loses it’s life, and I’ll be back and kill all of you.”

With that the blue light intensified. “Foolish mortal, you do not know the stories of the gods beyond what you are taught in preschool. Priape and I have a history, I am not welcome in his temple, and if you kill these demons….” From the shadows sprang another dozen, armed with double handed swords. “What of these? And if you kill those, what of these human?” Laser sights showed on his and Xander’s chests and heads from who knew what angles. “I know your limits, they are nothing to mine.”

Spike look warily between him and the plethora of demons between him and the shadow strewn door. Who knew what those shadows held now? “What do you want?”

“I wish to pray, I require your seed and your heart, but do not worry, I only require it of one of you. It should be enough to get Priape’s attention, and that’s all I need, he’ll listen to reason then.” The mob moved as one and slowly moved towards them Spike swung his katana, and Xander took the battle axe off his back and swung it when someone’s hands got too close. No other sounds were heard, the demons were silent, obedient, apparently feeling no pain, and not caring about damage as they pressed on, trying to get at Xander and Spike.

“WAIT!” Spike cried out, everyone stopped. Xander slipped in blood and landed on his ass, and got up gingerly, glad there was a pause just then. The monks’ eyes glowed ethereal blue as he spoke to the god, speaking through them. “There’s got to be something we as priests can do for you, that would be better than another war between you two over a priest’s death and sacrifice.” Spike panted, his face and hands smeared with blood, Xander almost swooned, and he was drenched in blood, he wasn’t sure if it wasn’t all the demons, they couldn’t keep fighting.

The demons threw back their heads and spoke with one voice again, “What do you submit to me?”

“Prayer, freely given. Release us, and we’ll pray, before the new moon so it’ll earn the gods extra favour, more than one of us at a time, so extra points, and we’ll do it in your name so he’ll know you’re asking for an audience. Just release us, and give us your name.” 

The demons stood still, the injuries on the mortality wounded dripped onto the floor, now and then a demon would fall dead or unable to stand anymore to the ground, but the rest stood, heads back, throats glowing blue.

“Know we can get you at any time, if this prayer does not work, we will do it our way.”

Spike nodded. “What’s your name then?”

“Ouranos,” all the throat exclaim, the demons all shaking and shuddering at uttering the name.

“What makes you think Priape can help you?” Spike asked. “What if, no matter how hard we pray, nothing can be done? And you just kill all of us for no reason?”

“Then I will find another way. I will find a way, there has to be a way.” The voices sounded almost strained, nearly mad with fervency and intensity. Ouranos needed Priape’s help. 

Spike nodded. “Let us both go. You’ll get a double prayer at Priape’s chamber before the week’s out, we got a deal?”

The demons parted ways, like Spike had parted the red sea, and they were free to go. Spike sheathed his katana and battle axe, before picking up Xander and carrying him out. Past all the booby traps, all the cloaked baddies that shopped in this ghost of a mall and headed home, Xander out cold.

Got you Xan, nothing going to happen to you now, not ever, going to treat you right.