Behind Closed Doors

Chapter Eight

I woke up hurting and in all the wrong places. My right arm was blazing with pain but I couldn’t move it. Maybe someone had ripped it off and beaten me over the head with it, because that hurt too. Then I managed to open my eyes and the first thing I saw was Harris. Torturing me was one thing but making me hallucinate him was going too far. I made an effort and managed to spit out, “Fuck off,” before my eyes closed again. Heard him charge off, yelling for Giles and felt worse. Didn’t want to see Giles. Knew it would hurt more than my arm. Pain was bringing the memories back. Pity. Amnesia had its plus side.

I remembered everything I’d said before I went out the night before; yelling at Giles, cursing the fucking Scoobies, fuck, I’d even told him I wasn’t coming back, not even if he did pay me. I’d let him hurt me in the shop and it hadn’t worked and I had run out of ideas. He’d gone back to being silent, even when we were home; wouldn’t touch me, wouldn’t look at me, and after a few hours I’d lost my patience and stormed off to kill something. Probably not the best decision in the world.


“He woke up and told me to...uh, go away,” Harris babbled. The room felt full of people; I could feel them pressing against the air and I tried to push them away without looking at them.

“He moved his arm!” Yeah, I’m gifted, I thought. Christ. I forced myself to open my eyes again, focus, and speak distinctly.

“Fuck off – all of you.”

Awkward silence. Faces were moving around; why wouldn’t they keep still? Made me feel dizzy.

“Spike? We thought you were dead.”

Dawn. For her, I made an effort. “Don’t stick around after, pet. Go dusty, remember?”

“Give him some space. Everyone out. I’m going to start the spell.” What the fuck was Red talking about?

“No, you bloody well aren’t!” I snarled it out, game face on. Helped the pain a bit. The demon didn’t care about suffering when there were people around who needed a good killing.

No one left. Guess I wasn’t scaring them or they wanted to see Willow turn me into something she could step on.

Giles was standing at the back of the room, leaning against the wall, arms folded, head down. When I said that his head jerked up, eyes flat. He pushed them aside, came over to the bed and smacked me on the head. It hurt. Not hard enough to be more than a brush of his hand really, but my head throbbed viciously. “Fangs away, Spike, or I’ll finish the job that demon started last night. You’re hurt and this spell of Willow’s will help. Lie still, shut up and behave.”

“’Behave?’ Going to make me, Giles? Guess you might find a few square inches with no bruises. Course; not all down to the demon are they? Made a few yourself, didn’t you?” Meant it to be nasty and it was. Giles looked hurt. Lost. Then his lips tightened and I felt a flicker of apprehension. He looked pissed off again. I wasn’t sure I was up to dealing with him angry when I felt like this.

I shut my eyes again and heard people finally leaving. One heartbeat stayed behind and I sighed and took a look. Harris.

“I saved your life last night,” he said.

“I remember.” He’d come out of nowhere and called out a warning; meant the demon’s clawed hand had missed my head and just sliced into my arm instead.

“I carried you here. You bled all over me. You were unconscious by then or you’d probably have been cursing meent ent the night going after whatever Willow and Tara needed to patch you up. Called in sick because I’d probably hammer my hand flat I’m so tired today.” He did look rough.

“This the part where I say ‘thanks’ and we bond with a hug?”

“Not if you want that arm to stay attached.” He stood up, hesitated. “Spike. I hate you. I really do. Don’t hate Giles though. If he wants you, he can have you, though I still don’t know why – never mind.”

“Not up to you to say.”

“No. No it isn’t. We owe him an apology for trying.” He didn’t sound convinced about it.

“Owe me one too.”

“Don’t hold your breath waiting.” Now that was said with conviction.

“Vampire. Don’t breathe.”

“You are sick, aren’t you? That was lame.” Harris had a point. My head was aching and I wanted to sleep, but I had a feeling I might not wake up if I did. If Red was set on doing a spell, God knows how I’d end up. Enthusiastic amateurs were a pain.

“Sorry. Come back later and I’ll tell you just what I think of your schemes and plans and fucking selfish behaviour.”

“Save it. I got it from all the others after you and Giles left the party. Never seen Willow so angry and Dawn –”

“They didn’t know you were going to do that? Set Giles up for a fall?” Shouldn’t have made me feel pleased – what did I care? - but it did.

“No, they didn’t. Don’t get thinking you’re Mr Popular though. They were bothered about Giles, more than anything.”

“Giles.”

“Yes. Remember him? The man you just kicked in the teeth, metaphorically speaking.” Xander sounded more sure of himself; course he’d just managed to work the conversation around to something I’d done wrong.

“Doesn’t want me anymore. Not if it means you lot getting on his back. Shouldn’t have brought me here, back to him. You should have taken me to my crypt.”

He sighed. “Stupid little bloodsucker, aren’t you? Wouldn’t say that if you’d seen his face when I brought you in. Or if you’d seen what he did to the demon who hurt you.”

That got me trying to sit up which was ariblrible fucking idea. I didn’t have the energy to scream but I tried. Harris grabbed me and pushed me back. “Giles told you to stay still.”

“Fuck that! He went after that thing? By himself? And you let him, you tosser?”

He poked me in the chest, hitting a sore spot, not that he had much choice. “Wrong. We went after it. Want to see my back? Gone an interesting shade of bruise. Giles took a hammering too.”

Let that sink in. “You killed it?”

“Giles did. Eventually.”

“Gave him some trouble?” It had given me plenty - course, I’d softened it up a bit for them ...

“Trouble? No. I think he just liked hurting it.” He looked vaguely admiring. “Giles was angry with it.”

I closed my eyes. Too much to think about. “Get Red back. Tell her she can do the healing spell.”

“Want Giles too? He could hold your hand.” He said it with an effort and I could tell he was trying to make a joke, not get in a dig.

Shook my head. Wanted it more than a relief from the pain but didn’t want to see the disappointment in Giles’ eyes because I’d let him down by leaving, given up so easily. “Tell him –”

“Not your fucking messenger, Spike.”

He got to the door before I could say it but I got it out eventually. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Please.”

Still a git.

Red patched me up, bit of chanting, way too many candles and something to drink that was mostly blood but tasted vile enough that I guessed she’d doctored it up. She didn’t say anything but she smiled at me when she left. Tried to remember the last time she’d done that. Couldn’t. Maybe she never had.

Heard the door open and close as they all left and the house settled down. Giles was moving about a bit, but he didn’t come near me and I went to sleep after a while, feeling my body healing and taking all my energy to do it.

Woke up when the cuff snapped around my wrist on the arm that hadn’t got hurt.

“Giles?”

He ignored me, pulled my arm up and fastened the other part of the cuff to the bed.

“What are you playing at?”

He looked at me then. “I’m not playing, Spike. I never was. Can you lift your injured arm?”

I tried; still stiff but it felt attached again. “Looks like it.”

“Good.” Snap, snap.

“Uh, Giles ...”

“Shut up.”

“No!”

He reached out and grabbed something, held it up. A gag. Fine. I settled for glaring at him and he waited long enough to be sure I wasn’t going to talk and then sat down on the bed, looking down at his hands.

“You left. Without permission. You got brought back by Xander covered with so much blood -” His voics les level, almost bored, but his hands were shaking. “You required the efforts of four people to keep you from losing your arm. You also needed blood and there was no time to get it.”

I opened my mouth to tell him I was sorry and his head lifted, eyes widening in a warning. He rolled up his sleeve; showed me a mark. “You couldn’t feed. We drew blood and spooned it into you.”

‘We’? He knew what I wanted to know and he told me. “Tara, Xander and myself. Dawn wanted to but it wasn’t needed. Willow was too busy with the healing.”

“Why, Giles?” Didn’t care if he gagged me, as long as he told me.

He stared at me, looking almost shy. “They ... did it for me. I never quite realised how much they –”

“Love you?”

He ducked his head, uncomfortable with the thought that people he’d known for years might care about him. “Something like that.”

Felt tired. I was glad Giles had sorted it out with them; he’d lost Buffy and I didn’t think he could stand losing them too, but I wasn’t sure where it left me. Two weeks and I’d got them thinking about him again, and about sodding time too, but did that mean he didn’t need me now? Fuck. What about me? I think that was the first time I admitted to myself without trying to hide it, that the bargain wasn’t all for his benefit. “So, it’s all sorted and it’s soppy families all around. Great. Couldn’t be happier. If you’ll just let me go, I’ll bugger off and you can all pretend this never happened.”

“Is that what you want, Spike?”

I shrugged as best I could with my hurt arm, staring at the window. Sunny, from what I could see through the curtain. I’d have to stick around a few hours yet.

He took hold of my face in one hand, turned it to him. “I believe I told you not to do that. Answe pro properly, please. Do you want to go?”

Had enough of drama and I owed him for treating me like I meant something, even if it hadn’t lasted. I lied to him, meeting his eyes the way he liked, trying to make it easy for him to chuck me out. “It was fun, but I’ve had enough, Giles. No hard feelings?”

“None whatsoever, Spike.” Cool, polite, vintage Giles.

He stood up.

“Where are you going?” I pulled at the cuffs to remind him that I wasn’t going anywhere until he unlocked them.

“Lunch. A rather late one, but still...”

“Let me go, then.” I felt pinned down, with that faint quiver that came from being tied by Giles making my body wake up and take notice. Started to wonder what was going on. Cuffing me - if he wanted me out of his house, he was going about it a funny way. Looked at him, but his face wasn’t giving anything away.

“No, that’s not going to happen, Spike. I could say it’s because you’re still sick, but you’re well on the mend. I could point out that it’s daylight, but I do have blankets you could borrow. No. You’re staying because I don’t want you to go. If you try, when I eventually stop being so angry that tying you up is all that’s saving you from a beating, I’ll drou bou back here. If you tell me you hate me, I’ll ignore you; if you misbehave, I’ll teach you manners.” He paused, looked back at me and said softly, “If I thought it really bothered you, I still wouldn’t let you go.”

“Why?”

His face went still and his eyes held the same expression the demon must have seen as he died. “Mine, remember?”

“I didn’t mean to do it, Giles.” Fuck. I sounded pitiful. What had Willow given me? I didn’t - quite - believe the last part. He wouldn’t keep me against my will and he couldn’t, not really. But I liked hearing him say that, hearing him claim me, and he knew it. That’s when I knew he’d forgiven me for saying I was going.

He sighed and the tension dissolved. “You never bloody do.”

He walked back and leaned over, kissed me hard until I nearly broke the bed post trying to get my arm around him to bring him closer. “I killed it, you know,” he said abruptly, getting us away from what we’d been saying before we said something we’d regret.

“Harr –Xander told me. Left out all the details. You tell me.”

“Well - you should rest.” Would have sounded more convincing if he hadn’t sat down on the bed and got comfortable.

“Fuck that. Tell me how you killed it.”He gHe grinned, looked about ten. “We found it be Ale Alpert crypt –” he began.

“Uh, Giles? Going to take these off first?” I rattled the cuffs again.

He looked at me. “Why?”

“I could pretend to be the demon,” I offered, waiting for the smile I knew I’d get, the reluctant, slow one.

“I killed the demon, Spike. How far do you want me to go with a re-enactment?”

I tried pursing my lips and looking wistful. “Just want to get a good idea of what you did to the ugly bastard. Talking’s not the same as a visual.”

“Really?” He sounded sceptical.

“No. Well, yes, but it’s not just that.”

Giles frowned. “So why do you want me to uncuff you?” His eyes widened. “Are they hurting you? Willow will kill me if those stitches break before you’ve healed.”

“Relax, Giles.” Wasn’t going to trick him into unlocking them. “Not hurting me being like this. Just – just want to –”

“What?” he prompted. “Spike, just tell me. Brutal frankness may not be one of your most endearing qualities, but it has its uses.”

I stared at him. I could beg him to fuck me, and not care how loud I screamed his name when I came, but telling him I wanted the cuffs off and him in bed beside me so I could just fucking hold him, get my hands on him when I thought I’d never get chance to do it again... couldn’t say that. Not that I was embarrassed; whatever Willow had made me drink might have been magical, but I would have put money on it being backed up with good old fashioned drugs; I felt as inclined to run off at the mouth as I did when I’d drunk too much. No; didn’t want to say it because it wasn’t fair on him. Two weeks and I wanted to fucking cuddle as if we were – no. Might be the drugs talking, might not, but I didn’t want to scare him off either way. Scared me, too.

“Oh, fuck. Giles, I just want to know you trust me not to run off, that’s all. And I can’t sleep like this and my eyes are closing. Red doped me up good and proper.”

He studied me. “I think there’s more to it than that, but very well.” He stood to unlock the cuffs and then hesitated as if he didn’t want to leave. “I’ll let you rest.”

“Don’t have to go.” He frowned and I said, “I still want to hear about the fight.” Couldn’t help it; I reached out and took his wrist, tugging him back down on the bed. His hand turned and closed around mine for a moment, reassuringly warm. It was enough.

“You were mad going up against it alone. Did you see the size of it? Eight foot, easily.”

I nodded. “Tricky part was that claw. Razor-sharp, that was.”

He moved to lie beside me, pulled me close without commenting on it at all, and started to describe a fight that got more epic with every sentence. I drifted off to sleep with Giles’ voice soft in my ear, telling me about blood and guts, slicing and dicing, and slept like a baby.