Title: Baby Doll
Author Restive Nature
Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.
Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"
Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.
Chapter Nine
Damaged
"So Spike was beat up pretty badly after the fire at the church?" Angel mused. "I don’t really remember much. It was kind of hazy."
"Well, I would expect so," Dylan shrugged. "After all, Dru had been torturing you, then drained you of your life force nearly to death." Angel gave a small shudder in remembrance.
"Yeah, it took me a little while to recover from that," he noted. "How bad were Spike’s injuries?" It didn’t really matter to him. But it was interesting to calculate the damage done, in relation to things that happened to him. Not that he ever planned to have an organ dropped on him. But it would be something to keep in mind. He couldn’t help Buffy when he was laid up.
"Well, from what I could tell," Dylan frowned, "and remember, I’m not a doctor, if he had been human, he would have been dead almost instantly." Angel nodded. "When the organ fell on him, it crushed most of the bones in his lower back, ribs, pelvis and one of his legs. He also got knocked in the head, so I imagine he had a severe concussion. And he was under there for a while before Dru managed to pull him out. The church was on fire, but it hadn’t reached them. But it did heat up the metal pipes on the organ and damaged the right side of his face pretty badly. The only thing that saved the rest of his right side was that leather duster he wore. If he hadn’t been wearing it, the material he was wearing would have possibly melted right onto his skin."
"That’s petty bad," Angel tried to keep from grinning over the other Vampire’s pain. In all honesty, if it had been anyone else, he’d most likely wince in sympathy. But it was Spike. Never his favorite person, with or without his soul.
"And of course Dru had no idea what to do for him aside from feed him blood,"
Dylan scoffed.
"Well, that’s really all she would need to do," Angel shrugged. "A Vampire’s body will heal itself."
"I know," Dylan grimaced. "I told Dru so, but she insisted I fix him anyway."
"Excuse me?" Angel was mystified. How would Dylan have been able to help?
"Apparently, Dru realized that my first prediction came true, so she seemed to believe that I could do anything."
"Oh," he sighed. "Why doesn’t that sound good?"
"Because it wasn’t."
*****
Dylan had been chained up most of the night. Dru and Spike had taken the minions to the abandoned church for the ritual to restore Dru. The Vampiress had been happy, and the few occasions that she spent time with Dylan in the girl’s ‘new’ bedroom, she’d been singing. So Dylan had a pretty good idea what was going on. They’d discovered how to perform the ritual, they had what they needed, but they wouldn’t bring Dylan. Dru, with clarity, knew that Dylan would try to run away. And since the minions would need to keep their concentration on the Slayer and Spike would be performing the ritual and she’d be tied up, there was no one to watch her baby, so Dylan had to stay behind.
She’d wandered about her Spartan room, alternately lying on the bed and pacing the floor. The chain was long enough that she could make it to all four corners of the room with no problem. There was a bag of groceries in a heap by the door. At first Dylan had been tempted to go through it. She was hungry after all, but she was getting tired of the constant cold, canned food. The thought of her mother’s Sunday afternoon pot roast nearly brought her to tears. When she saw the six pack of cola at the top of the bag, she’d changed her mind. From what she could tell, the group was going to be gone for a long while, and she had no access to the bathroom. So she tried to keep herself occupied.
She worked at her chain for over an hour, trying to simply pull it free. But the thick lengths required more strength than she had. She then searched the room for a key or lever of some sort. But the room was bare. After that, she gave up for the day. She still had a few days before her first prediction ran out and her time was up for good. So now she waited for the next moment of movement. There was no point in providing it herself. She was utterly alone. She wanted to cry about it, she really did. But there was that strange little part of her mind that kept repeating how useless tears were. What would happen would happen.
There were no windows in her room. She had no way of telling time, except by her inner clock. And it was never that reliable. She knew vaguely when morning slipped into afternoon and afternoon to evening. So she didn’t bother to mark time. She finally became hungry enough to eat and drink, hoping a way to deal with other things would occur to her. If all else failed, she could hold on until dawn. The vampires were sure to return before then.
But they didn’t. Dylan began to worry. Had they forgotten about her? Was she destined to eventually starve to death here in this abandoned factory? She’d been prepared to be turned. But starvation hadn’t occurred to her. So in between naps, she planned. She rationed out her food, trying to think how long it would last. And she tried to think of escape plans.
Finally she realized that the next night was beginning to creep towards day when she finally heard a commotion in the outer rooms. A wave of relief came over her. At least she hadn’t been forgotten. She didn’t bother to rise from the bed. If they wanted her for something, they knew where to find her. So she was surprised to suddenly hear Dru screaming for her. Demanding that she come help her. Dylan wondered why one of the minions didn’t come and get her. A few minutes went by and Dru was still screaming. So Dylan achingly rose from the bed and shuffled to the door. She opened it to see nothing.
Then Dru appeared from the shadows. "Baby, come help me," she instructed. She looked different now. The glassy look of her eye was gone. Her features even and straight, were…intent looking.
"I’m still chained up Dru," she whispered back. She had no idea what had gotten Dru into such panic mode. Dru stared at her for a moment before finally comprehending. She hurried forward, grabbing a key from a nearby table and rushed into the room, expertly unlocking her pseudo daughter. Then she proceeded to drag the girl to the main room where the dining table stood. Dylan stumbled and stopped short when she caught sight of Spike, draped across the table as if he’d been dumped there.
"Help him," Dru implored.
"My God Dru, what happened?" Dylan was stunned. She moved forward and Dru followed after.
"That nasty Slayer tried to kill him," Dru snarled. "But Mummy saved him. I’ll keep him safe." She continued to ramble, but Dylan tuned her out. Her eyes darted around, noting that they seemed to be the only ones about. Where were the minions? Had the Slayer killed them all? Was this her chance? Dru wasn’t paying attention to her now. She was babbling at Spike, something about how it was her turn to take care of him. Should she run, make a break for it? But before she could put thought into action, Dru glanced up and caught he eye. "Help him, please? I don’t know what I’d do without him. Please?"
There was no way that Dylan could deny her in that moment. Dru had kept her safe from Spike’s original scheme. She’d tried to take care of her to the best of her abilities. Didn’t Dylan owe her something at least for that? The little voice in the back of her mind was screaming at her. But she shut the voice out for now. There was one chance now. There would be another, she hoped. And maybe, if she were lucky, Dru would forget to chain her up again. And when the Vampiress retired as she normally did, Dylan could go then.
"All right Dru," she conceded for the moment. "We need to straighten him out. Tell me exactly what happened to him."
"The Slayer knocked him down," Dru growled at the memory. She’d been just coming around a bit when the organ had fallen on top of them. But with the blood of her Sire running through her veins once more, she was able to throw off the effects of the accident. But Spike wasn’t so lucky.
"Did she hit him or what?"
"She hit his head," Dru recounted slowly. "He fell. We fell. And something collapsed on top of us." Dylan could see that now that she’d promised to help, Dru had calmed considerably. She was focused now and making a lot more sense than usual. They’d finally managed to straighten the Vampire out and Dylan gasped at the amount of blood that coated his face and clothing. There were nasty bumps and bruises along his face and collarbone. But underneath, it looked twisted somehow.
"Dru, his face," Dylan swallowed hard. "What happened to his face?"
"It was hot," she said simply.
"There was a fire?" Dylan queried. Dru nodded. "Okay, we need to get him cleaned up. Get this blood off him. Does he have any broken bones?" Dru shrugged, then nodded. "Well, I guess it’s a good thing he’s already dead." She thought for a moment about what she’d need. "Where are the others?"
"Gone," Dru informed her dryly.
"Slayer?"
"Yes."
"Okay," Dylan forced herself to think calmly. "We’ll need to take his clothes off. Better to just cut them off, so we can check his bones. I’ll need water and something to wash his face off with."
"No," Dru interrupted. "He needs blood first." She was so calm about the matter that Dylan felt her blood run cold.
*****
"Dru didn’t use you did she?" Angel broke in to her rumination quickly.
"Oh no," Dylan smiled. "I was afraid she was going to. But she had other ideas."
"Of course."
*****
"Blood?" Dylan said softly. This was it.
"Yes," Dru nodded. "It will fix him."
"Oh, ah I…" Dylan’s mouth was dryer than sandpaper. She watched in helpless fascination as Dru neared the table. She prodded her lover’s mouth open. Dylan cringed as Dru’s hand came up. But before she could react, Dru arced her hand down swiftly, slicing open her other arm with her razor sharp nails, lying open the flesh. She held the bleeding appendage over his mouth and watched idly as the blood flowed in. Dylan was about to make a shaky comment when Spike’s face changed to its true form and his throat swallowed convulsively, instinctively.
"It’s working," Dylan smiled. She really had thought that Dru would sacrifice her without second thought.
"Of course," Dru giggled. "My Spike loves his blood. Such a good little boy." She continued to feed him, letting him take what he could. It was obvious that even in his unconscious state, his demon had a good instinct for survival. "My blood will make him strong. Took it all from my sire. He’s strong; he can afford to share. And now I’m strong. And so will my Spike be strong." Finally, Spike was too exhausted. His mouth went slack, his face slid back to human visage and Drusilla pulled her arm away. She licked her wound clean and watched as it began to close up.
"Should we clean him up now?" Dylan asked. Dru nodded.
"I’ll get the water and something to get his clothes off." She moved off to do just that. Dylan stared at Spike. There was something about him, so vulnerable in this moment. It was such a difference to what she was used to. Maybe there was something in his face of that which he’d once been. Dylan silently chided herself for thinking such nonsense.
Dru returned and together they began the long process of unclothing the prone body. Dru insisted on easing her lover’s beloved coat from his body. She confided that he’d never forgive her if she cut it up. Dylan almost giggled at that thought. In her mind, if Dru wanted to make a string of dolls from the fabric, Spike would hand her the scissors to do so. It was strange to still see daily the affection between the two, almost as if they were a real couple. Of course, to the Vampire community, they were. Where one went, there went the other. They were a matched set.
Once they’d removed his clothes, Dylan blushed fiercely and turned way. Dru was puzzled by her reaction. "Have you never seen a naked man, dearie?" she smiled fondly.
"Well, ah, of course," Dylan blushed even deeper. "In health class."
"Pictures?" Dru hmmed. "It’s all right. You can look at my Spike."
"Dru!"
"What?"
"I can’t look at him," she protested feebly. The Vampiress really seemed to see nothing wrong with that.
"Why not?"
"He’d kill me!"
"Probably," she agreed mildly. "But we don’t have to tell him."
*****
"Dru offered you a look at Spike," Angel guffawed. His jaw was starting to hurt. He hadn’t laughed so much for longer than he cared to think. "That’s strange. She was always very possessive."
"Well, it was just a look," Dylan frowned. She was still puzzled by Dru’s magnanimity.
"Did you? Look I mean?" he smirked.
"Wouldn’t you like to know," she teased. She no longer had illusions about the depth of Vampiric sexuality. Angel sobered immediately.
"No, I don’t think I do," he rolled his eyes.
"Well, I didn’t," Dylan continued. "I made Dru cover it with a towel. Of course, that made things easier in the long run."
"Why?"
"Because when he woke up and realized he was naked and I was the only one there, he about went ballistic."
Chapter Ten
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