Author: dragonydreams (Elisabeth)
Rating: PG-13 for now, will probably go up later
Summary: Spike figures out what he needs to get out of his wheelchair.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Joss et al.
Distribution: winter_spillow, my site, the usual lists, anyone with previous permission. Anyone else - just ask.
Feedback: Yes please! It makes me happy and keeps me writing.
Author's Note: Thanks to velvetwhip, Kat and Lisa Kelley for their wonderful beta skills.
Willow knew that she was dreaming, but that didn't stop the dream from happening.
She was wandering through the park alone at night. She knew that she should have gotten Buffy to walk her home, but the slayer had been too busy sulking over the loss of Angel's soul.
Not paying attention to where she was going, Willow was startled by the yapping of a dog. She looked down to see a Doberman puppy looking up at her with the saddest expression on his face.
"Aw, what's the matter?" she cooed at him, squatting down to look at it more closely. "You lost too?"
The puppy whimpered again. Willow reached out to see if it had a collar and dog tags, but as her hand neared its head, the puppy snapped at her.
"Now that wasn't very nice," she informed the animal. "I'm just trying to help."
Willow reached for the collar again, this time succeeding in her goal. The lone tag on the collar proclaimed the puppy's name to be William.
"William, is that your name?" Willow asked the puppy, who barked, panting happily.
"Well, William, it looks like you have a name, but I can't make out the address on here. It looks like it has been scratched out. I guess I should take you to the pound."
William began to snarl and bare his teeth at that suggestion, backing away from Willow. As he stepped back, his snarl turned into a whimper.
Willow caught the whimper and, walking around the puppy, she noticed that one of his legs was injured.
"Oh, no! You're hurt. I guess that I should take you to a vet instead. Can I pick you up?" she asked the puppy. She didn't know how, but Willow knew that he understood everything she was saying to him.
William licked Willow's hand as she reached for him. She took this as a 'yes' and lifted the wounded puppy into her arms. William eagerly licked her face and neck as Willow began to walk back towards the main part of town in search of a vet.
She was so intent on getting William help, that she didn't notice until it was too late that he had stopped licking at her neck and now had his very sharp teeth buried in her flesh, slowly draining her blood.
Willow woke with a start, pain radiating throughout her body. Most notably, her neck was throbbing. As sleep receded from her brain, Willow soon realized that this was because there was a vampire attached to her neck.
Screaming, Willow tried to pull away, only to discover that her arms were bound above her head by heavy metal chains. She tried kicking out at her attacker, but her legs were twisted up in a nightgown that she didn't recognize.
"Bloody hell," Spike shouted, instantly silencing the frightened redhead. "That screaming's enough to wake the dead." Which in fact it had. Spike hadn't even realized the sweet nectar he'd been tasting was real until Willow began to scream and struggle beneath him. He must have been feeding in his sleep.
"What's going on?" Willow frantically asked. "What am I doing here? Am I a vampire?"
"Would you keep it down," Spike demanded. "Unless you want to bring Dru and Angelus in here to quiet you." Willow shook her head, silently assuring him that she most definitely did not want that.
"Good. Now what you were doing was waking me up from one of the best day's sleep that I've had in a very long time. You are here because I brought you here. Dru says you're gonna make me whole again. Didn't know that when I took you, but I'm right glad that I did. I just thought I'd keep you around until I tired of your blood. You've the sweetest, richest, most succulent blood I've tasted in a century." A glazed look came over Spike's eyes, which frightened Willow. "All that innocence… virgin's blood is always sweet," Spike leered at Willow's blush. "But it's more 'n that. You've got power, though you may not know it yet. I can taste it, it's there. Gonna make me well again, it is."
"I-I can't make you well. For one thing, you're a vampire. I don't know anything about healing vampires. Besides, I'm just little Willow Rosenberg. If you needed me to hack into some voodoo doctor's files, I could do that, but I'm no healer. Buffy's the one with power. I'm just little old me. Yucky, undesirable me. Trust me, you don't want me."
Spike was awed by the conviction in Willow's voice. He could tell she believed every word she said. Well, he knew she was wrong. She was powerful in a way that the slayer never could be.
"Don't tell me what I want or don't want," Spike insisted, a hard edge to his voice. He was tired of everyone telling him what he wanted, who to eat, when to go and when to stay. He was in charge here.
Considering that Spike was still in gameface, with her blood on his lips, Willow wasn't inclined to further disagree with him right now. "Fine, whatever. Just don't go blaming me when you find out I'm right."
"You know, I don't think you appreciate your position here," Spike commented, letting his human mask slide into place. He leaned forward and swiped his tongue over the rough wounds his sleep-feeding had caused. He laved the area, cleaning away the trickling blood as well as causing the wounds to clot. This also served to remind Willow that her life was in his fangs.
"My position is a little uncomfortable," she muttered, then wished her hands were free so that she could slap one over her mouth. Spike heard her, though, and glared up at her. "It's just… my wrists hurt, and I think my hands are asleep. Human girl here, with the whole circulation thing. And I'm cold. Aren't you cold? I mean, you're almost naked!"
"Not almost," Spike leered, causing Willow's eyes to go wide, then slam shut.
"Um, Spike, why are you naked?" she timidly asked, her cheeks bright red with embarrassment at being in bed with a naked man, er, male.
"Was sleeping. Always sleep in the buff," he casually said.
"Speaking of sleepwear… what am I wearing?" she hesitantly asked.
"One of Dru's old nightgowns. Don't worry, it's clean."
"And how did I get into it?" she asked, already guessing the answer.
"I put you in it," Spike said, growing tired of her incessant questions. "Now look, it's the middle of the day. You interrupted my sleep. Either go back to sleep or be quiet so that I can."
"Will you undo my arms?" Willow asked. "It's just, this is pretty uncomfortable now that I'm not all unconscious."
"Yeah, right, so that you can go runnin' off to your little friends and tell them I'm still around? Not bloody likely."
"So that's why you kidnapped me," Willow said, tears forming in her eyes. "You don't want me. You just don't want me to tell Buffy you're not dust."
"Aw, hell," Spike cursed. "Look, just go to sleep. Doesn't matter why I took ya. You're here. Deal with it. You'll be here for a while."
Willow sniffled, trying to keep the tears at bay. She really did. But the harder she tried, the more she wanted to cry.
Her anguish washed over Spike, making him almost giddy. All that pain, caused by him. Was enough to make a vamp hard… if he were fully functioning. Soon he would be though. Willow was going to make everything work the way it was supposed to.
Looking around, Spike saw that Celeste must have come in after he'd gone to sleep and left some water and grapes next to the bed. Scooting closer to Willow, he reached across her body to pick up the items. He held the glass to her lips as she tried to drink.
The water calmed her a bit and she soon asked for more, not realizing until she started drinking how thirsty she was. Once the glass was empty, Spike returned it to the table. He held up the grapes, but she shook her head, her grief overriding her hunger. Spike shrugged and tossed them back on the table.
"You ready to go to sleep yet?" he asked.
Willow silently nodded, suddenly feeling weary.
"Good." Spike pushed himself back a bit, allowing Willow to make herself as comfortable as possible, which happened to be facing away from him, before pressing his body to hers.
Willow yelped in surprise when Spike spooned behind her. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close to his still body.
"Just go to sleep," he mumbled. "Won't try nothin'."
"Right, 'cause you're so trustworthy," Willow snorted.
"No, 'cause I can't," he mumbled as he fell asleep.
Willow lay awake for a while after that admission. Spike couldn't try anything? Why not? She blushed as she realized that whatever put him in that wheelchair must have affected everything below the waist. She was surprised to discover that she felt sorry for him.
She didn't know what to make of her situation. First of all, she was being held captive, chained to the bed of one of the most notorious vampires in history, in the house of two others. No one knew where she was. She idly wondered if her friends had realized she was missing yet. Somehow she doubted it.
She wondered if Spike was being truthful about needing her. No one ever needed her. Not really. They needed her to do stuff for them… homework, hacking, research. They needed her skills, not her. But wasn't this the same? Spike wanted her blood, wanted her to heal him.
For some reason, that thought disturbed her more than the thought of being held captive. If he was holding her hostage so that Buffy wouldn't find out about him, she could understand that. But he said it was her, her blood that he needed. In a weird way, she preferred to look on her situation as being a blood bank. At least this way it meant she was wanted… needed.
Her dream came back to her as she mulled over these things. She nearly sat up at the realization that Spike, aka William the Bloody, was William the puppy. Was her dream a way of trying to prepare her for her new life? Did her subconscious know that she had been taken prisoner in order to help heal an injured vampire? Was it fate's way of telling her that this was her destiny?
This last thought made her shiver. How could she be destined to be a vampire's pet? His own personal blood supply. And who knew what else would be expected of her, living in a vampire's lair. Would Drusilla and Angelus try to eat her too? Was she going to be fed? Was she going to be let out of these chains?
All of these questions circled around in her head as she drifted into an exhausted sleep.
TBC (on my next winter_spillow date)