Disclaimer: All is Mr. Whedon’s.
 
Warning: Gets a little gruesome in places. Still no beta, so please keep the reviews coming!
 
 
Buffy and Spike clung to each other’s thoughts, like drowning men grasping a life ring. She fed him images of things he had done right. She reminded him of how he survived Glory’s torture without giving Dawn away. She played over and over how proud she had been of him during that final battle on the hellmouth. The tenderness with which he had held her bleeding hands after she returned from the grave. The strength he had given her before that final battle. These are all your acts, Spike. No one made you do these things. You did them on your own. You are capable of good, and were before you had a soul. Even William the Bloody was not pure evil.

That last comment seemed to give Spike a lift. With the added strength borrowed from Buffy’s mind, he was able to step aside of the river of victims somewhat. Without making excuses, he could separate out the victims that occurred because of blind, demonic hunger beyond his control. He could see the times when he made it quick, because it was in his power to do so. That still left an awfully long list of inexcusable crimes, but somehow, he could bear it now. He had done these things, but he had also stopped doing these things, of his own will. As he kept up this train of thought, the dark howling void of madness moved further away. Buffy’s love and encouraging thoughts were like a cool hand on a fevered forehead.
 
Then, as suddenly as it started, the torture stopped. The searchlight in Spike’s head clicked off, and he slumped in his bonds, exhausted. Buffy would have collapsed as well, had she not been bound to the wall. They both panted as if they had just run a race. Spike? You with me?
 
I’m here, Slayer. Spike lifted his head with an effort and opened his eyes. Buffy met his gaze. Both of them were grateful for the reprieve, however short it might end up being.
 
What happened? asked Spike. How did you do whatever you did? How did you get through to me?
 
I don’t know, Buffy responded, shaking her head in confusion. Another voice popped into my head. Spike gave her a puzzled look. It sounded like a woman. She was calling my name, asking me to come.
 
Your mum? Spike wondered.
 
Don’t think so. Different voice. Kind, but not familiar. It’s like she was trying to contact me. I tried to ask her for help. Don’t know if she heard.
 
Well, whoever it was, we’ll have to thank her later. Seems like that contact helped you get back some control. You’re amazing, love. Spike gazed at her again, and gave her one of those patented adoring looks of his. That look that had welcomed her back from the dead, gazing up at her on her staircase.
 
I never get tired of that look, babe, Buffy sighed. They both closed their eyes and rested then.
 
 
*****
 
Satan was sitting in his office, staring at a wall. The wall had the property of being able to show him anything in his realm instantly, just by muttering a short incantation. Right now, he was watching Buffy and Spike, resting with small smiles on their faces. Their mental link seemed to be as strong as ever. For a while he had been pleased with their reaction to the catalogue of William the Bloody’s past deeds. He had been able to keep that up for quite a while. But then something had interrupted things. Probably a medium or something. Nosy busybodies who couldn’t leave the dead in peace. Always had to go checking on them. Once Buffy’s mind had had the slightest break, she had been able to reassert herself and help Spike. Satan had finally given up and stopped the punishment so he could ponder his next trick.
 
Satan drummed his hand on his desk. Then he smiled. Might as well do that while I’m thinking of something new.
 
*******
 
Buffy was jerked out of her doze by an unpleasantly familiar voice. “Long time no see, Slayer.” Buffy’s eyes widened. It was Glory. Wild hair, red lips, horrendous taste in shoes – every detail exactly as Buffy remembered.
 
“I destroyed you,” Buffy said. “You can’t be here. It’s not possible.”
 
“Maybe, maybe not,” Glory responded, shrugging carelessly. “But I think I’ll have some fun with you all the same. Hello, Spike!” she added, turning to blow a kiss to the chained vampire. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
 
“Can’t say as I’ve noticed, particularly,” growled Spike. Considering what he had suffered at the hands of Glory the first time, he was certain that he did not want to find out first hand whether this was the real thing or a bad Hell copy.
 
“Now, Spike,” Glory crooned. “You were much more polite last time.” Glory turned back and ran her hand down Buffy’s face. “I think you need to know how Spike felt when I asked him to help me with my Key.” Glory turned back to Spike as Buffy shivered.
 
Moving like a cobra, Glory’s finger shot out, her sharpened nail piercing Spike’s abdomen. Spike screamed as Glory twisted her fingers in the wound, ripping and tearing. Glory pulled her hand out, observing the effect on her manicured nails. Then she rapidly began slamming punch after punch into Spike’s face and body.
 
“Leave him alone, you bitch!” screamed Buffy. Spike’s pain filled his mind and hers. She could feel his ribs crack, his eyes swelling, his lips splitting. She winced as she felt his nose break, remembering all the times she had punched him in the face, usually after he had been so good to her. My God, what was I thinking? Desperately she called out to his mind, Spike!
 
The ferocity and unexpectedness of the attack had almost completely overwhelmed both of their minds. Through the pain, Buffy thought, He put up with this? For me and Dawn? How?  She was horrified but she could do nothing. She was helpless as she watched this deadly Goddess torturing the man she loved relentlessly, without the benefit of death’s blessed release. Spike… please hear me. Fight her. Spike tried to comply, but the agony made coherent thought next to impossible.
 
This Glory never tired, never got bored with causing pain. She would move to one area of Spike’s body while the accelerated healing went to work on the area she had just finished. Then she could move back and start over again. Buffy screamed as she watched one of those vicious nails pierce Spike’s left eye. His face disappeared under a mask of blood as he moaned in agony. She forced herself into his mind, willing him to let her bear some of the pain. She cried out as the feeling of sharp nails in flesh registered in her head as well. She clenched her jaw and balled her fists, sharing her mate's pain as best she could.
 
Her attempts gradually seemed to be working. With Buffy’s mental support, Spike struggled to regain control. After a massive mental battle, he realized that a thought was nagging in the back of his head, but he couldn’t grasp it. Something about perception. If this fucking BITCH would just lay off my innards for five minutes I could probably remember something.
 
Buffy heard that thought through her pain. Damned inconsiderate of these hell types not to give us time to think between tortures. Then she realized what she had just been thinking and stopped for a moment, groping in Spike’s mind. Spike! You had some memory about controlling your perception. The reaper, or something?
 
YES! Spike’s mind latched on to that saving thought. When the Reaper had attacked him at Wolfram and Hart, he had been able to exert his will when he wanted to badly enough. And oh, he so wanted to exert his will on this bitch right about now. He summoned all his strength and will to fight back.
 
Glory paused for a moment, sensing some change in her victim. Spike raised his head painfully, looked at her with his one good eye, and spat in her face. She stopped cold, absolutely stunned and staring wide-eyed at her victim. The stunned look on her face struck Spike as so funny that he started to laugh, wild and maniacal. Buffy stared at him for a moment. She can’t hurt us, pet, he laughed, she’s the world’s biggest sock puppet. He kept laughing, and after a while Buffy joined in. She practically doubled over in her bonds as the ludicrous phrase ‘world’s biggest sock puppet’ bounced around in her brain. As they laughed, Spike’s face began to knit itself back together. His back straightened, and his blood seemed to flow back into his wounds. Glory looked indignant. “How dare you laugh when I am torturing you?”
 
They laughed even harder. Buffy had tears in her eyes. Do you want to explain to Her Bimboness? she asked Spike. I don’t think I can stop long enough.
 
“I’m afraid, you’ll just have to piss off, Glory,” Spike said between chuckles. “See, we know you don’t exist anymore. We killed you. Oh, you had us going for a while. But we can control our perceptions if we try hard enough and you just aren’t here. If I could, I’d gladly thrash you for a while just to prove the point. But honestly, I’m a little tied up right now.” Spike broke into fresh peals of laughter.
 
Good one! laughed Buffy. They were both in hysterics. She thought that perhaps they both had gone a bit crazy. Ok, she was 95% certain that they had lost it. But she didn’t care. The creature that looked like Glory, whatever it was, was completely confused. It looked from one to the other, not sure of what to do.
 
“Tell your master that he’ll have to do better than ‘This is Spike’s Life’ if he wants to get at us,” Spike said defiantly. “Why don’t you toddle off now, there’s a good demon.” The creature looked at Spike indignantly, then vanished as suddenly as it arrived.
 
Oooh, boy, thought Buffy, breath hitching as she tried to get her laughter under control. Now we’re really going to be in for it.
 
Sod it, returned Spike, similarly fighting the giggles. Been wanting to tell that bitch off since she fucking got the woman I love killed.
 
I got better, giggled Buffy. Spike threw his head back and started laughing all over again.
 
 
In his office, Satan grew more and more furious as he watched. Clearly, something must be done about those two. Playtime is over, my friends. My turn.  
 
 
TBC