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Silent, her arms crossed over her chest in a determined stance, Buffy walked slowly, purposefully, into the living room, where Angel, Riley, and Xander were all waiting for her.

None of the three even looked at each other; each seemed intent on completely ignoring the presence of the others.

All eyes were on her, as she looked thoughtfully from one to the other, her fierce, piercing gaze every bit the Slayer that she was.

“Okay – we are going to get to the bottom of this – no matter how long it takes.”

“Okay,” Xander replied without hesitation, but in a very calm, nonconfrontational voice, “before we do that…don’t you think most of us should know what ‘this’ is?”

After a long moment of silence, Buffy let out a weary sigh, as she sat down on the arm of the one chair in the room that no one was sitting in, covering her face with her hands for a moment. When she raised her eyes to look around the room again, some of the anger seemed to have left her expression.

“Buffy – I know you were looking for Spike a couple of weeks ago,” Angel began cautiously, obviously a bit wary of arousing her anger again. “Why don’t you just start by telling us about – when you found him? What happened to him, Buffy?”

The genuine concern she heard in his voice for Spike was the only thing that kept Buffy from being irritated by his usual tendency to try to take charge of the situation. That – and her total exhaustion and weariness of having to be the one in charge of the situation.

“I’m still trying to figure that out,” she replied, her gaze still traveling from one of the men sitting in front of her to the next, again and again, trying to gauge their reactions, to determine how much each knew, and whether or not they were hiding anything. “He hasn’t been able to talk since I found him, so – I haven’t got much to go on besides assumptions.”

“Why can’t he talk?” Riley frowned in confusion, though his interest seemed grudging, as if he somehow felt he was lowering himself even to ask about the vampire’s welfare.

Buffy had the sudden urge to throw him bodily out of her home.

“You were looking for Spike? Even after…” Xander’s incredulous voice broke off abruptly, and he suddenly averted his gaze, as if all at once deciding that he did not really want to bring up the painful history that he had been thinking of, not in front of Riley and Angel anyway.

“Yes, I was looking for Spike,” Buffy replied pointedly, a warning in her glittering green eyes as she returned her best friend’s slightly accusing look boldly. “I was worried about him. I’m sorry if that bothers some of you, but you have a relationship with someone and they just drop off the face of the earth – you’re pretty much gonna worry. Period. Can we move on now?”

“Oh, so it was a relationship, now,” Xander muttered, rolling his eyes as he looked away from her sullenly. “Last I heard it was a mistake.”

Choosing her battles carefully, considering the gravity of the situation, Buffy allowed that comment to pass unanswered, as she instead launched into her explanation, such as it was. She really did not know that much more than anyone else in the room about what had happened to Spike, as far as she knew.

“Riley,” she began, “the other night when we were patrolling, and we broke up that sacrifice? You know, the slime demons? When I chased that one, he led me down into the old Initiative caves.” She held his gaze intently for a moment, searching for a reaction – which she did not find – before looking at the others in turn as well.

“Spike was there,” she went on simply, her voice quiet but full of intense emotion, as she forced herself to stay calm enough to get the entire story out. “Chained up in those caves. He – he couldn’t see. He didn’t know me. He was – scared of me. He thought I was going to hurt him every time I touched him…”

The slight, almost inaudible growl that rose in Angel’s throat took her by surprise, and she looked at him sharply, one eyebrow raised in a silent question.

His eyes widened when he became aware of the unintentional reaction, and he abruptly stopped growling, looking away from Buffy as he asked in a tone that was suddenly all business, “Any idea why he was like that? What happened?”

Without revealing her source of the information – for some reason feeling that it was probably best to leave Anya’s involvement out of the story for now, as long as Xander was around – Buffy replied tersely, “He’d been shot. In the head.”

A long moment of intense silence followed that announcement, as she took in the stunned expression of Xander, who looked as if even his known hatred of Spike could not dull the shock of such an act; followed by Riley’s surprised, but not particularly upset, look, reminding her that he had probably seen, and accepted, much worse acts done to vampires than a relatively “simple” bullet to the head.

As she turned to Angel, she jumped slightly, startled to see him in game face – and apparently unaware of it. He was making a visible effort to control his anger, not making a sound, though his golden eyes blazed with fury.

She quickly looked away from him, directing her attention to the other two, in an attempt to hold their focus, as she went on, “They had him chained up down there – I have no idea how long – they’d been starving him, and – and beating him – and worse. He’d been tortured. Very, very badly. That’s why he – he was so scared…”

She paused, swallowing back a sob, blinking back tears as she tried to regain enough control of her emotions to go on. Finally, she managed to continue, “It – it changed him. He can’t remember – anything, I think. Anyone. He didn’t remember me or Dawn – even very basic things – there’s only a few words he knew when I found him, and that was only because – whoever had him down there – had said them to him before…”

She lowered her eyes, unable to meet their questioning gazes as she thought of the way Spike had reacted to her when she had first found him, pleading and terrified and desperately submissive – obeying without hesitation anything that even remotely resembled a command.

“What words?” Angel’s sudden, softly spoken question drew her attention.

But she could not respond.

“Buffy – what words?” he pressed her, and she could hear the growl beginning in the back of his throat again.

“If he was that bad,” Riley broke in impatiently, a look of undisguised disgust on his face, “why didn’t you just stake him? Put the poor thing out of his misery? Seems to me that’d be kinder than letting him go on like that…”

Buffy fought back a wave of anger and resentment, fully aware that Riley’s concern had nothing to do with Spike’s welfare, and everything to do with his own jealousy and hatred of the blonde vampire who had eventually succeeded in winning his ex-girlfriend’s affections. She reminded herself that in a way, it was a valid question, considering the extent of Spike’s injuries – injuries that, had he been human, he would probably never have recovered from.

But – Spike was *not* human.

“I can’t, Riley,” she replied, trying very hard to keep the impatience and anger from her voice. “Not as long as – as long as there’s a chance that he can…can get better…and he already *has* gotten better…”

“Buffy – no offense here,” Xander said with a sigh, his dark eyes meeting hers with concern and a bit of an apology for what he was about to say, “but – don’t you think it’d be better for everyone involved? I mean – sure, maybe, in like, *years*, Spike could recover from those injuries – but are you just gonna focus all your time on helping him get well? What about the slaying? Do you really think that *Spike* deserves so much of your time and attention?”

Buffy was silent for a long moment, her mind backtracking over the past couple of years – playing over scenes in her mind…Spike’s bruised and tortured form, sitting on the sarcophagus in his crypt after taking a truly hellish beating for refusing to betray Dawn to Glory…Spike’s earnest promise to protect her little sister “to the end of the world”, which he had faithfully kept, even after her own death…Spike’s giving her everything he had to give the previous year, when she had been so full of pain and brokenness that it was all she ever offered him…his bruised and bloodied face in the alley that night, behind the police station…

…and there was only one answer that she could honestly give.

“Yes.”

Xander studied her expression for a long moment – and wisely seemed to decide that arguing with her would be, at the very least, useless. He simply sighed and looked thoughtfully down at the arm of the couch on which his fingers were idly drumming.

“He’s got a point, though, Buffy,” Riley pressed – not possessing anywhere near the sort of instincts that Xander did when it came to the Slayer and her moods and emotions. “I mean – you have so much you’re responsible to do – how can you justify spending so much time on helping a *vampire* get well?” The incredulous note of disgust to his voice was impossible to miss.

“I’m not going to let anything else go to take care of Spike,” Buffy insisted, the tension rising in her voice with her frustrations. “It’s amazing how much he’s recovered just with one night of getting enough to eat. He’s already getting his sight back. I know I’ll be able to handle it – and I’ve got Dawn to help…”

“And me,” Angel interrupted firmly, his dark eyes challenging either of the other males to question the statement. “I’ll help.”

“Look,” Buffy went on, a tired note to her voice, which nevertheless held a certainty that allowed for no argument. “I know neither of you – none of you, really,” she added with a glance at Angel, “are all that thrilled about my relationship with Spike. But at the very least, he’s earned my friendship – and I’m *going* to help him. That’s not up for debate. If you absolutely cannot handle that – then there’s the door,” she concluded with an admittedly over-dramatic gesture of her arm toward the front door.

No one moved.

“Fine,” Buffy continued with a slight nod of satisfaction. “Then what I’m really wondering about, is what just happened in here a few minutes ago. Spike was doing a lot better – calming down some and starting to feel safer – then he came down those stairs, and bam! Instant freak out. What’s up with that?”

Although Angel had done his best to explain Spike’s earlier reaction to him, and Buffy really wanted to trust him, she still found herself turning her questioning eyes to the dark vampire as she spoke.

Angel let out a sigh of restrained frustration at her continued suspicion, as he repeated intently, “Buffy, I told you – I have no idea what made him freak out like that – but I did *not* do that to him!”

“Then why the instant obedience thing?” she frowned, puzzled, and still a bit suspicious in spite of herself. “You said come here, and he immediately went to you.” There was just the barest hint of accusation in her voice, and the words she had not said were still clear to Angel’s mind.

*…and left *me*…*

“It’s a vampire thing, Buffy. I’m Spike’s sire. He was freaking out, I wanted to calm him down – I used my sire voice with him,” Angel finally admitted, his eyes momentarily downcast, before looking back up at hers a bit anxiously, for her reaction.

“Sire voice?” she echoed, one eyebrow raised in expectation of further clarification.

“A childe can’t resist his sire’s voice, when it’s used a certain way. He had to obey…”

“Oh, that’s just great!” Buffy cut him off, her voice full of venom as she whirled around to face him, throwing her hands up momentarily in an “I give up!” sort of gesture. “He’s just been through probably months of torture and being forced to do whatever he’s told – and just when I’m starting to get through to him *you* come along and start forcing him to…”

“No, Buffy, it’s not like that!” Angel urgently tried to explain. “I don’t expect you to understand, because you’re not a vampire – but it’s not a – a scary or abusive kind of thing – at least – not the way I used it that time. The way I used it – it can actually be comforting. I tried to make him feel safer – protected.”

Buffy was silent, taking that in – and she had to admit as she played the scene over in her head, that Spike had not really seemed *afraid* of Angel in that moment, but had rather seemed to be seeking the same sort of defense and protection that he had been seeking from her only moments before Angel had spoken.

*I was doing just fine,* the slightly resentful thought crossed her mind unbidden.

Her eyes widened, startled and slightly embarrassed at the sudden self-revelation that followed the thought. *Oh, come on, Buffy,* she chided herself. *You getting jealous over who he needs more is not going to help Spike at all!*

Suddenly, something Angel had said registered with her, and she latched onto it with subconscious relief, as the idea distracted her from her self-reflection.

“This time?” she repeated the words that had caught her attention, her eyes narrowing on her one-time lover in anger. “As opposed to the other times when you *did* use the sire voice thingy to hurt him?”

Angel’s expression took on a trapped quality, his eyes widening with guilt, just before he looked away from her. “Not in a – a very long time, Buffy,” he assured her nervously. “I swear it, Buffy – I haven’t done anything to hurt him in – in years.”

Buffy maintained her searching gaze, tilting her head slightly as she thought the situation through carefully. “So – even though he doesn’t remember anything – he somehow sensed that Dawn was safe – and he somehow recognizes you as his sire – so the whole submissive bowing thing – is *that* a throwback to his old memories, too? Did you used to make him do that, before?”

She knew it really wasn’t relevant – not after so much time had passed – but she somehow couldn’t stop herself from asking. She had to know.

Angel was silent for a moment, still not looking up at her, apparently accepting her scathing questions as no less than his due. “No,” he replied quietly. “It’s not. I could never make him do that…” He paused, suddenly looking up to meet her eyes with an arresting gaze, as he finished in a firm, unflinching voice, “…even when I tried to.”

Buffy did not back down, holding his gaze firmly, her eyes blazing with a righteous vindication and indignation on Spike’s behalf which, in all fairness, was not really all aimed at Angel – but she did not say a word, sensing that he was not quite through yet.

“No – I think that he instinctively recognized the authority in the sire voice,” he went on slowly, thinking it through carefully as he went along, “he had to have recognized it, because he *did* respond to it – but the – the bowing thing…that’s – I think it’s – the way he’s learned to respond to someone – in authority. Since his injury.”

Buffy’s expression darkened as she thought back to Spike’s initial reaction to her in the caves, his immediate response when she and Dawn had tried to feed him – and Angel’s educated guesses seemed to ring true. One thought echoed in her mind as she tried to force the painful images to the back of her thoughts again.

*Someone is going to pay…*

“Whoever did this – whatever they did,” Angel continued, his eyes flashing golden at the thought of the damage that had been done to his childe, “they managed to break him in a way that I as Angelus, at my worst, never did. And for that – they *will* pay.”

In his mind, Angel added intently, though he had no intention of further agitating Buffy with the sentiment,

*Because *nobody* touches my boy – but *me*!*

“Oh, yes, they will,” Buffy agreed, a subtle challenge in her blazing emerald gaze.

*Because *nobody* hurts *my* vampire and gets away with it!*

And in that instant, as the eyes of the master vampire and the powerful Slayer locked on each other, a silent challenge was passed between them, a single thought that each held in certainty, in regard to the helpless, broken vampire in the upstairs bedroom.

*Mine*!