Spike was reminded of a story by Stephen King.  Survivor Type it was called.  

       It was a story about the limits of human endurance, and the main character, trapped like an animal on a deserted island, slowly ate himself, starting at his feet and working his way up his body.  He went insane, of course.  Babbling about his mother at the end, if the vampire recalled correctly.  He did.

       Come on, Girl...just give it up...

       For three hours, he and Drusilla had been forced to watch the show put on by Angelus, with his dark goddess clapping happily, her eyes bright as she watched her daddy at work.

       Spike was chewing on the inside his cheek, and it was completely shredded, but he didn't taste the blood or feel the pain.  He didn't feel anything, at least, that's what he was trying to convince himself as her eyes kept drifting towards him, silently begging for help.

       You don't strike me as the begging type...

       "Buff...baby...you're really making me look bad here," Angelus purred in her ear, "Now...tell me a little something..." he made a quick motion with his hands, the scalpel in his fingers making a quick, small cut along her bare shoulder.  

       She didn't even flinch.

       "Who was it?"  

       Spike's eyes narrowed, bastard...and stupid bitch...she should have known better...

       "Nice try...trying to throw me off my game...but you must think I'm stupid..." he tugged on the gag in her mouth, grinning wickedly, "Admit it...I am your first..."

       She glared at him defiantly as he loosened the gag enough for her to speak, "You wish, Angelus...and you know I'm telling you the truth!"

       Angelus sneered at her as Spike's grip on the armrests of his wheelchair tightened, silently willing Buffy to shut up.  

       Buffy glanced towards Spike once more, seeing his pale face had gone even whiter then usually, his blue eyes flickering away from her briefly.  No help was coming from that quarter, apparently.  Not that she expected any, considering he was wheelie boy at the moment.

       She really hoped, despite her situation at the second, that he wouldn't tell Angelus anything.  That'll just piss him off more.

       Wow...really, Buff...weren't you trying to piss him off anyway?  Worked real well too...

       She closed his eyes as he made another cut along her flesh, feeling his cold tongue lapping up the blood that welled up.  She shuddered at his touch.  Not Angel...he's not Angel...Angel's dead...

       She took a shuddering deep breath, then gasped as Angelus yanked her head back, exposing the cigarette burns along her throat, "If you weren't lying Buffy...tell me who it was.  Was it that little pussy, Harris?"  

       I'll kill him!  I'll fucking kill whoever dared to touch my property!

       "Nope," Buffy forced a smirk on her face, "And you'll never figure it out.  You'll never figure out whose name I was scream--"

       Angelus snarled, kicking the chair she was tied too, and she felt the breath leave her body in a whoosh as she fell backwards.

       Spike had to grin in admiration.  Now that took some fucking balls...

       "Buffy...why do you make me hurt you?"  Angelus' tone was pure sweetness as he knelt over her, stroking her face, giving her his best injured look, "You know I love you...why do you make me mad?"

       "Love me?"  She laughed loudly, "You call this love?  You're more fucked up then I thought!  I'm really, really glad I didn't do you first.  Otherwise, I wouldn't have known what a lousy lay you are..."

       Spike winced even as Buffy gave a short cry, her collarbone shattering under Angelus' hands.  Damn it...shouldn't hit below the belt, pet...Christ...he's going to kill her...

       "Can I play too?"  Drusilla cooed softly, but Spike growled, "Let him play his own games, pet...we'll have none of it."

       She pouted, about to throw a tantrum when Buffy gave a sharp gasp, and she beamed brightly as she turned her attention back to the torture session, and Spike felt the first roiling of disgust in his gut as he watched Drusilla lick her lips hungrily, eyeing Angelus and the Slayer.

       Bitch.

       Buffy breathed shallowly, any small movement causing incredible pain.  Each time she goaded him, she hoped that he would finish her.  She couldn't deal with him anymore.  Maybe when I'm gone, he'll leave my friends alone...

       "Buff...Buff...Buff..." Angelus wiped his hands on his pants, cleaning off the blood, shaking his head as he gazed down at her almost sadly.  "You really shouldn't lie.  It's bad for your health.  Plus, it's immoral..."

       "So is leaving corpses in other people's beds..." Buffy grunted out, her eyes nearly rolling back with the pain.

       "Good thing I don't have a conscience," Angelus let out a giggle, glancing at Spike and Drusilla, "What should I do with her?"

       "Take out her pretty entrails and make garters," Drusilla replied dreamily as Spike's eyes narrowed.  Angelus saw the blond's look, tutting as he shook his head.

       "Disappointed you couldn't do it, Spikey, m'boy?"  He asked, stepping on the leg of Buffy's chair, sending her shooting back upright.  Her head lolled on her shoulders, her eyes half-closed as she breathed painfully.  "Maybe I'll let you play with her before I'm done."

       "Fuck off, Peaches..." Spike half-snarled, making sure he had a petulant tone in his voice.  He didn't want to give anything away.

       Angelus shrugged, turning back to Buffy, "Ready to talk yet, love?  Let me know who...this other boy is?"

       "Not a boy!"  Buffy spat out hatefully, her eyes narrowing even more, "More of a man then you'll ever be."

       Angelus growled as Spike arched an eyebrow, deciding that this really was starting to get interesting.  First, I'm a better lover and now I'm more of a man?  Damn, but I wish I could say something...

       "Face it, Angel...you're only second-best," she let out an almost insane giggle, "Poor Angelus...your ego's bruised and battered...you're nothing to me.  You're just a pile of dead, useless flesh that I have no use for..."

       Angelus grabbed his trusty scalpel again, "I'd like to believe you, Buffy, I really do...but we both know that you're a liar..." he cut a thin line between her breasts, and she gasped in pain, her eyes fluttering closed, "And that your heart belongs only to me...literally."

       Spike winced as Angelus dug his fingers into the cut he made, and Buffy gritted her teeth to keep from crying out, "Shall I prove it?"

       "Rip it out, then...see if I care...I'm beyond caring at this point," she hissed painfully, "Kill me, gut me, bruise me, cut me, hate me...I DON'T CARE!"

       Her hoarse shout burned her throat, and she felt bile raising up, and she forced it down, making herself meet Angelus' cold, cruel eyes, "I don't care..."

       "Oh...Slayer's tongue is getting sharp," Drusilla whispered to Spike, leaning in close as she laid her hand on his thigh, "Daddy's going to cut it out..."

       Spike glared at her, shoving her away from him, and she stared at him in surprise and confusion.  "Spike?"

       "Forget it, Peaches."

       Angelus looked towards Spike, raising an eyebrow, "What?"

       "You'll never break her," Spike met Buffy's dazed, pained eyes, "You can try everything you can, but you won't succeed.  She's a survivor."

       Buffy looked at him in confusion, and he grinned, "We both are..."

       No...Buffy shook her head, trying to plead with him, using only her eyes.  No...don't die too...just let me be...

       Spike slowly stood, and Drusilla let out a small cry, her eyes widening, and Angelus gazed at him in shock, "But you're...you're paralyzed!"  His eyes suddenly narrowed as he snarled, "You're fucking dead, Spike!  You filthy little liar!"

       "I thought the Slayer was the liar," Spike replied calmly, "But we both know she isn't, and I know who she's been fucking behind your back, O great, all knowing Sire..."

       "Spike...no..." Buffy spoke up, "Shut up...please..."

       "Don't worry about me, Slayer," Spike smirked at his Sire, just starting with my head, is all...

       Angelus reigned in his rage some, "Do you now?  Please share with the rest of the class."

       "Gladly," Spike slid his eyes towards Buffy, then flickered his gaze towards the window.  She frowned in confusion as Spike turned his attention back to Angelus.  "While our dear, sweet...and bloody Slayer was still waiting for you to stop being such a pansy-assed pussy..." he grinned for effect, "I helped her with her little problem of...sexual frustration..."

       Angelus' mouth actually dropped open as he looked towards Buffy, who was smirking at him just as his Childe was.  

       Drusilla suddenly howled, and Spike ducked as she launched herself at him, and she plowed into Angelus instead, screaming in outrage.  

       Angelus shoved the raging vampiress away as Spike darted towards Buffy, snapping her bonds and dropping on top of her in one swift movement.

       Angelus started towards them, then froze as a window shattered above them, and his eyes shot up just as a red, plastic gas can flew through it, landing at his feet.  

       "What the fuc--"

       An arrow that was lit on fire followed the path of the gas can just as Drusilla scrambled to her feet beside her daddy, and Spike flinched, his body still covering Buffy's as the gas can exploded, hearing his Sire and his dark queen's screams filled the air.

       He felt the heat of the fire fan him, singeing his hair.  Suddenly, a flaming hand clapped down on him, yanking him off the nearly unconscious Slayer, and he met the enraged face of Angelus'.

       Spike's eyes narrowed as he felt the fire spread from his Sire's body to his own, a stake appearing in his hand, "Go to hell," he hissed, the stake finding a home in Angelus' chest, and his eyes widened in surprise as he dusted.

       Spike slumped to the floor, watching as Drusilla slowly burned, her screams tapering off into whimpers, then into nothingness as she turned to ashes.  No...

       He made no move to beat off the flames engulfing his own body, his eyes closing as he felt it lick at his head, burning the back of his neck.  I'm coming, baby...oh...Christ...

       He felt the blackness surround him as a pair of arms gripped him beneath the armpits, lifting him to his feet, and he could dimly hear shouts as it closed in around him, cutting him off from the world.

       Buffy groaned, slowly rolling over in bed, then hissed, her eyes shooting open as white-hot pain laced down her body.  She felt like she had been tortured for hours.

       Oh...right...I was...she thought, wincing as she sat up, looking around the sterile hospital room just as a nurse came in, "Oh...good, you're up.  We were all worried about you," she said cheerily, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around Buffy's still sore arm, and checking all her vitals.

       The nurse looked surprised as she marked something down on her chart, "Healthy as a horse...even after all you've been through..."

       "What?"  Buffy struggled to remember what had happened, "How did I get here?"

       "Your...father brought you in..."

       "My father?  My father's here?"  Buffy blinked in surprise, wondering if she was still unconscious.  "What happened?"  She asked as the nurse finished up her duty, "I can send him in here if you like..."

       Buffy nodded doubtfully, leaning back against the pillows with another wince, still trying to remember.  She got as far as Angelus torturing her, and threatening to do something with her heart...

       She opened up the hospital gown, staring down at the thin line of stitches, nearly groaning, "That's gonna leave a mark."

       "Buffy!"  Giles charged in, and she yanked the gown around her.  

       He looked immensely relieved, the worry etched into his face.  "Are you all right?"

       "Sore in a million different places...and a little fuzzy on the recollections...oh...I used a big word...guess that means I don't have a concussion."

       Giles smiled, "You're all right."

       Buffy nodded, then groaned, "Ow..."

       "Oh...your collarbone...it was a little broken, but it's already knitting," Giles assured her, and Buffy almost nodded again, but caught herself in time.  What was that joke?  Dr...it hurts when I do this...then don't do that...

       "What happened?"  

       Giles looked suddenly uncomfortable, "Um...Buffy..."

       "BUFFY!"  Willow practically barreled into Giles, Xander and Oz on her heels, as well as Cordelia, who was stuck carrying some flowers.  

       Her best friend looked over her worriedly, "Are you all right?"

       "Yep...used big words and everything," Buffy grinned at her, "I'm so glad to see you guys...even you, Cordy..."

       The May Queen rolled her eyes, "Yeah, right," she said, sticking the flowers on the bedside table.  "These are for you."

       "No, Cordy, actually, we all chipped in money to buy you flowers," Xander teased his girlfriend, who glared at him.  

       "Glad you're alive," Oz said, word quota reached for the day.

       Buffy grinned, "So am I...so...what happened?"

       Everyone glanced at each other, and Buffy frowned, "I remember this...this isn't good, is it?"

       "Angel's a little..." Willow bit her lip, wondering how she was going to break the news to her friend.

       "Angel's an extra crispy critter now," Xander said, having no problems with announcing it.

       "Good," Buffy nodded, ignoring the pain the movement caused, and the one in her heart.  "He had to die."

       "See?  I told you she'd take it well," Xander said triumphantly, and Cordelia glared at him, "You know nothing of women."

       Buffy looked down at her hands, composing her feelings for the moment.

       "Drusilla's dead too," Willow said softly, "And Spike..."

       "Spike?"  Buffy's head shot up, her eyes widening.

       She's a survivor...we both are...

       "Spike's dead?"  She shook her head, "No...he can't be..."

       To everyone's surprise, tears poured freely down her face, "Oookkk...really didn't see that happening!"  Xander said in disbelief as Willow smacked him on the arm, hard.

       "Uh...Buffy..." Giles cleared his throat nervously, "Spike isn't dead...he's...here..."

       "Where?!"  Buffy stumbled out of the bed, yanking the IV out of her arm, "WHERE IS HE?"

       "Buffy..." Willow tried to calm down her friend, but Buffy shoved her away, rushing out into the hall.

       She found him in the farthest corner of the hospital, where few of the staff was allowed.  She could see why as soon as she entered the wing.

       Her Slayer senses jumped to alarming levels as she passed rooms, amused to see the Hippocratic Oath applied to even those of the demon world as a few doctors and nurses rushed by her, some sort of demon on a gurney, cradling a broken arm and sporting a nice head wound.

       She stopped a passing nurse, "I'm looking for a vampire...Spike?"

       The nurse frowned, looking Buffy over, "Yes...we recieved a Spike, but he isn't allowed any visitors...he's in critical condition."

       Buffy sighed, shaking her head, "All right...I'll wait..."

       As soon as the nurse disappeared around the corner, she headed towards the rooms, extending her senses till she pinpointed the one she was looking for.

       She looked around before entering the dark room, silently shutting the door behind her.  "Spike?"

       No one answered her, and she fumbled along the wall till she found a light switch, and she gasped when she saw the figure on the bed.

       Almost from head to toe, Spike was covered in vicious burns and there was a faint smell of charred flesh in the air that made Buffy's stomach reel in revulsion.

       She forced it aside, stumbling towards him, "Oh...God...Spike?  Spike...can you hear me?"

       Spike moaned softly, shifting on the bed, "Dru?"

       Buffy's eyes filled with tears as she knelt beside his head, "Spike...it's me...Buffy?"  

       He opened his eyes, then hissed as the bright light assaulted his eyes, and she hurried to shut it off.  "Better?"

       "Slayer...what the bloody hell are you doing here?"  He groaned as she stood by him again, and she frowned, "You don't remember?"

       Spike closed his eyes, a mar frowning his half-burnt features.  "Remember what, Slayer?"  He growled impatiently, "Don't make me kill you..."

       "Somehow, I don't think that'll be a problem, you saved me, remember?"

       Spike opened his eyes again, finding her face in the darkness, "What?  No, I didn't!"

       "Spike...Drusilla's dead...so is Angelus...I'm not sure how they died at this point..."

       A look of pure pain crossed his face, and Buffy's heart went out to him, while at the same time, she felt her own heart shatter.  He loves Drusilla...

       "Sorry, luv," he muttered beneath his breath, glancing at her, "I killed him...I'm sorry..."

       "Don't be," she replied, reaching out to touch his burned face, pulling away abrubtly when he flinched, "He totally sucked, anyway..."

       They both shared a weary grin, then Spike covered his eyes with his arm, shaking his head, "She wasn't supposed to be hurt...they said she wouldn't be hurt..."

       "They?"

       He lifted his arm, frowning, "They didn't tell you?"

       "Tell me what?  I'm really hating the guessing games here..."

       "I called them...when Angelus caught you...told them to wait for sunrise just in case he tried to escape..."

       "You called Giles...?"  Buffy stared at him in disbelief, "Why?"

       "Because," he shrugged, wincing, "We're survivors, Slayer," he met her eyes, smiling wanly, "But even us survivors need a little help sometimes.  Otherwise, we're apt to start with the fingers."

       "Huh?"  Buffy looked at him in confusion, "What the hell are you talking about?"

       Spike chuckled, leaning his head against his pillows, "When I get out of this hell-hole, Slayer...maybe I'll introduce you to one of my favorite authors..."

       Her hand snaked down, clasping his, and he looked at her in surprise as she smiled shyly, "I think I'll like that."

       He smiled back at her before closing his eyes tiredly, "Tell me the truth...how do I look?"

       "Good thing I don't like you for your looks," Buffy replied, and Spike moaned, "Oh...bloody hell..."

The Prom

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