Gods And Monsters

Chapter Thirty-nine:

The basement of Sunnydale High was a tragic place. The stale air was laden with an unpleasant stench, the foul odour all substructures seemed to inevitably acquire. Mildew and dust plagued every nook and cranny. It was a breeding ground for malevolent afflictions, a cesspool into which the Hellmouth inevitably overflowed.

The tiny, rectangular windows just below the ceiling offered a peek above ground. The sun had already begun to rise, indicating that Spike and Hel had returned just in the nick of time.

The cement was cold and solid beneath her knees as she knelt in front of him. He was seated on the cement floor with his back against the wall. Reaching for the hem of his long-sleeved blue shirt, she began tugging it upward. She felt his stare, and deliberately averted her eyes.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing?"

She rolled her eyes, but remained focused on the task at hand. "Baking a cake." Her reply practically dripped with sarcasm. "You reek. If you're not going to bathe, you should at least change your shirt."

He lifted his arms over his head, enabling Hel to yank his shirt off over his head and toss it aside. Conjuring a clean, crisp black dress shirt, she helped him slip his arms into the sleeves one at a time. She started at the bottom and began fastening each button. The almost imperceptible trembling of her fingers forced her to take her time.

Hel's ears detected the grating of metal behind her as the door slid open along its track. She heard footfall against paved flooring as Buffy strode up to her, joining her side.

"Can I speak to you for a minute?"

"If you must." Having only just finished the buttoning of his shirt, Hel got to her feet and confronted Buffy. At full height, she stood a few inches taller than the Slayer. "Go on then." She prompted curtly.

Buffy guided Hel aside so that their conversation wasn't within earshot of Spike. "He killed a man last night. A human being."

Hel wasn't perturbed in the least. "And?"

Buffy wore an expression of outright disgust, utterly appalled. "When we first met, I thought it was dangerous for you to get involved with Spike. But you're even worse than he is."

"I am not 'involved' with Spike."

Buffy folded her arms across her chest. "Then why are you here?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"Answer the question." Buffy snapped.

Hel clenched and unclenched her jaw. She paused a moment before speaking, glaring daggers. "He has a soul."

Buffy's hard expression slackened with disbelief and her incredulous eyes inflated. "What?"

"I haven't the slightest idea as to how he got it, but he did."

Buffy inhaled deeply, exhaling in a sigh. "I guess that would explain the crazy."

Hel looked over her shoulder at Spike. He sat perfectly still, unblinking and unmoving.

Buffy traced the focus of Hel's gaze to Spike, then turned to face him. "Spike, what are you doing?"

"Nothing. If I don't move, if I don't think, if I don't listen to the voices... Then I won't hurt... Much."

Buffy sent a sidelong glance in Hel's direction, before approaching him. "I need to ask you something."

"Don't." He snapped.

"There's a girl. She's in danger, and she needs your help, now." When he was unresponsive, she flapped her arms at her sides in a gesture of exasperation. "Time is running out. It's Friday. The day Cassie said she's gonna die."

"I can't. I can't hear you." He protested.

"Is there something evil in the school? Down here maybe? Spike, please, do you know anything?" She implored.

He swallowed, then exhaled sharply. "Yes." Spike admitted reluctantly, with a small nod. Turning his head off to the side, he clenched and unclenched his jaw before continuing. "There's evil. Down here. Right here." He gazed into the shadows, his face only partially illuminated. It was a clashing dichotomy; a struggle for dominance between light and dark. "I'm a bad man. I hurt the girl."

His head bowed briefly, and then he began repetitively hitting himself. Over and over again, his knuckles connected violently with his cheek.

Hel intervened, hastily dropping to her knees in front of him. "Spike, stop it!" She snatched his wrist before he could deliver another blow, forcing it to be still within the vice of her strong grip. Her pleading eyes held his with unwavering devotion.

Spike stared up at her in wide-eyed, almost childlike bewilderment. 

"What did you do?" She whispered.

"I hurt you. And I will pay. I am paying because I hurt you."

Shaking her head, she covered the top of his closed fist with her free hand in an attempt at soothing him. "No." She murmured.

His lips were pursed, his features hardened with the effort of containing his inner turmoil. His brow furrowed.

"Her name is Cassie Newton." Buffy interrupted. "Please, do you know anything specific?"

His expression calmed somewhat. He shook his head 'no', his lips parted.

Buffy sighed, then turned to leave.

Hel stood, about to do the same, but Spike's familiar voice stopped her.

"Don't— don't leave me." Spike begged her. "Stay here, and help me be quiet."

Without hesitation, she did as he asked. The door slammed shut, as she lowered herself to the cement floor and sat beside him. He tentatively laid his temple upon the crook of her shoulder and closed his eyes.

She brought her hand to his head, gently caressing the little bleach-blonde curls beneath her fingertips in an attempt to soothe his distress. He was fast asleep in under five minutes.