Summary: AU beginning during the months between Seasons 5 and 6. Tara is just your typical college student at UC Sunnydale. Or at least, she’s trying hard to be…until a series of strange dreams of a mysterious, suffering stranger begin to haunt her nights. When this stranger unexpectedly crosses her path, he will draw her down a road she never expected, toward a love and a future she never thought she’d find.

 

Notes: This story will span the course of a very AU Season 6, as Tara gradually uncovers the secrets of Spike’s tormented past amidst events very different from canon Season 6. At the beginning of this story, Tara has not met Willow or the rest of the Scoobies, and though it has been several months since Buffy’s death, the Scoobies have not yet planned to raise the Slayer from the dead. Also, for the purposes of this story and the ‘ship it involves, Tara is heterosexual. J




Akathisia: Son of Grace

by DreamsofSpike

Tara wanted nothing more than to start slowly with the gruesome task before her, perhaps with the vampire's battered arms or legs...which was why she knew she had to start with the injuries that most horrified her. If she did not tackle the unpleasant task head-on, she was not certain she would still have the emotional strength to face it by the time she finished the other, lesser injuries.

"Okay, Sweetheart...we're gonna start with your neck, okay?" Tara spoke in a soft, soothing voice as she gently brushed her hand against the vampire's shoulder, giving him time to get used to her touch before she went any farther. "It...m-might hurt a little, but...but there's no help for that, Honey. And...and once we get it done, it's going to feel so much better."

As she spoke, she reached to carefully untie the temporary bandage she had placed loosely around his neck when she had first taken the collar off. In his numerous struggles and other awkward movements since then, he had managed to gradually shift it, until it hung askew, not really serving its original purpose anymore at all.

Tara gently removed it and set it aside with one hand, as she slowly reached for the soft towel in the basin of water with the other. She carefully wrung it out as she kept talking to her reluctant patient, doing her best to keep him calm and aware of what she was doing. When she gently returned her hand to his back in a reassuring gesture, she could feel the tension in his hunched shoulders, knew how terrified he was, and her heart broke for him, because she knew that she could not avoid what she had to do.

"I'm just gonna wash this out," she explained. "Make sure it's clean, and get it bandaged, all right? Now...it's not going to be comfortable...but I'm gonna try my best not to hurt you. You just let me know if it's too much for you, okay? Just squeeze my leg and I'll stop."

She was encouraged by the nod she received in response, a bit less uncertain than the last. She studied him closely, trying to gauge his preparation for what promised to be a long and messy ordeal. He was still trembling...but that seemed to be a fairly constant state for the traumatized vampire. All things considered, he seemed relatively calm and coherent, resting on his side against the back of the sofa.

Might be as good as it's gonna get, Tara reminded herself, her jaw locking in apprehensive determination as she gently, cautiously pressed the soft, wet cloth against the side of the ghastly wound that circled his entire neck.

The vampire jumped, drawing in a ragged breath in alarm, and Tara froze, not taking the cloth away, but not going any farther with it, either. After his initial reaction, the vampire went very still, his trembling increasing, a slight, pleading shake of his head the only indication of his desire for her to stop.

He did not make their agreed upon gesture to stop; his hand was trembling on her leg, but not applying any pressure at all. She wondered briefly if she should stop anyway, but knew that as difficult as it was, this had to be done. She wanted to be sure he was ready before she went any farther.

"It's all right," she soothed him. "I'm not gonna hurt you." Recognizing what very well might have been some of his fears regarding having his neck touched, Tara's eyes welled with tears as she assured him in a hoarse whisper, "It...it's not that c-collar, Sweetie. That thing is gone. I'm n-not putting that back on you; I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm just t-trying to help, okay?"

After a long, tense moment, he very slowly nodded, just once, though none of the tension left his taut shoulders, and a slight tic was visible in his clenched jaw. He winced, but did not pull away, and did not squeeze her leg, as she carefully blotted the wound, bringing the cloth away stained with dirt and dried blood. She grimaced in distaste as she dampened the cloth again, watching the water turn murky as dark red flecks came loose from the cloth. When she touched his neck again, the vampire flinched slightly, and Tara paused, her thumb moving gently across the scarred flesh a few inches from the wound in a soothing gesture.

"You okay? You ready?"

Another shaky nod gave her consent to go on, and she continued cleaning the cut, talking to him all the time.

"It's okay. You're doing so good, Sweetie...you're gonna be just fine..."

It was a slow and arduous process, and many times he flinched as she encountered a particularly sensitive spot, but despite the pain, he seemed to be gradually relaxing under her touch...as if he was becoming more and more certain that she meant what she said, and did not intend to harm him.

Once the wound was finally clean, she picked up the roll of bandages, frowning with concern as it occurred to her how badly her patient might react to the idea of anything being wrapped around his neck again.

"How you doing?" she asked in a gentle, sympathetic tone. "You still okay?"

He nodded, though his breathing was ragged and labored in his attempts to control the inevitable pain of having his wound treated. He seemed calm enough, despite the pain...but then, he was utterly unaware of the object she held in her hand, or what she intended to do with it.

"You're being so brave," Tara soothed him, allowing her admiration and affection to show in her voice as she stroked his hand. "I'm so proud of you. You're doing just fine. And...and I need you to be just a little braver, okay, Sweetie? I need you to listen to me...all right?"

The vampire nodded dutifully, wincing at the pain the motion caused his injured throat, but waiting, his head tilted slightly, for her to go on.

"I need to put these bandages on your neck...s-so it doesn't get hurt again...and...so it s-s-stays clean. Do you understand?"

The vampire did not move at all, made no indication that he did understand.

"It's got to go a-around your neck," Tara clarified hesitantly, drawing in her breath in apprehension when he tensed up again, shaking his head slightly and pulling back against the couch. "N-not too tight, not like the collar at all!" she promised him. "It's just a bandage. It's s-soft, and it won't be tight, and it won't hurt. I promise. But...but you need to have it on...please?"

*****************************

His terror kept the vampire from hearing all of what Tara was saying, as the only thought that filled his mind was that he could not let her collar him again, could not allow her to take away the precious privilege of breath she had allowed him. If she was just going to put another collar on him and take his breath away again, it would have been better if she had never taken it off.

"Please," Tara whispered, and the word caught at his attention, simply for its unfamiliarity. It had been so long since he had heard a word of such courtesy. "Please...let me help you. It's not a collar, I promise..."

He desperately wanted to believe her, but without his sight he had no way to know if she was telling the truth or not. He felt her gentle hand on his shoulder, and flinched, but then froze, not daring to pull away from her...a part of him not wanting to. It had been so long since anyone had touched him with such tenderness, such compassion, and his love-starved heart relished the contact.

"Listen to me," Tara instructed softly, and he dutifully tried to obey, though he was shaking with fear. "Please...just...just think...I put the other bandage on, and it didn't hurt...did it?" She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was hushed, solemn, and earnest. "Have I tried to hurt you yet?"

She hadn't.

A fragile hope began in his wounded spirit, and the vampire found himself wondering, not for the first time, if it might be safe to trust this gentle person who had somehow gained possession of him. Tara had done nothing so far but to help him. She had taken the hated, constant torment of the collar off him; why would she do that, just to put it back?

Because it makes you *theirs*...she wants you to be hers...

The chilling possibility echoed through his mind...but it did not feel right.

And even if it was right...if it was a collar she was bringing toward his damaged neck right now...it was a far softer collar than the one he had previously been forced to wear. And belonging to Tara seemed a far sweeter bondage than the one he had been used to enduring.

"Will you let me help you?"

Tara's whispered words drew his thoughts back to the present decision, and he hesitated a long moment, his mouth dry with terror, his mind racing, before finally making his choice, for better or worse...and giving her a slight, barely visible nod.

"Okay," Tara sighed, and he could hear the trembling relief in her voice. "Okay...thank you...for...for t-trusting me. You'll see; I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Thank you".

Two more words that had become foreign to him during the course of his enslavement.

He was so startled by her gentle, almost reverent voice speaking unheard of courtesies, he almost didn't notice when the soft material he had felt before touched his damaged throat again...just barely brushing against his tender flesh, and not in the slightest restricting his airways as she carefully wrapped his neck in the light fabric.

And the tiny seed of trust he had held in his heart began to take root.

**************************************

Tara slowly, painstakingly wrapped the bandages around the vampire's neck, taking care not to wrap them too tightly...so much care, in fact, that she found herself wondering if they were secure enough. She frowned, unsure, but then shook her head, dismissing her worries. She would rather have to redress the wounds later than to unnecessarily frighten him by making them too tight.

"See?" she murmured, her hand brushing his in a comforting caress as she taped the bandage into place and sat back on her knees. "All done. Is it too tight? Does it hurt?"

He hesitated a moment, then shook his head before ducking it slightly, almost as if embarrassed. Her heart went out to him, so confused and traumatized...of course he had trouble trusting her. What reason would he have to believe that she would not hurt him? And yet, he seemed apologetic for distrusting her now.

"You're doing so good," she reassured him gently. "I know this is hard...and confusing...and I'm going to try to make it all make sense for you...somehow..." She sighed wearily at the prospect, which did not seem like an easy one at all. "But first...we've just gotta get all these injuries taken care of."

She hesitated, once again considering the most disturbing of his injuries...his eyes.

She grimaced, but managed to keep herself from looking away as she examined the empty socket, raw and red and charred, and the other eye, crusted with dried blood and dirt, still a bit swollen...but there.

If I can just get that cleaned up, maybe...*maybe* he could see, even a little...

"Okay...this might hurt a little, Sweetie," she warned him with an apologetic grimace as she reached cautiously toward the damaged area of his face. "Your eyes look...pretty bad. But...but they're not gonna get any better if I don't wash them, all right? Do you understand?"

*******************************

The words Tara was speaking lost all meaning, any trace of significance, the moment he felt the cloth brush against his cheek. In his mind, the soft fabric became cruel, pinching fingers, grasping, clawing as they held him pitilessly in place, and...

No, *no*! Please, don't!

Without even really meaning to, he jerked backward, away from the clutching, restraining hands and what they meant to do to him. Instinct caused him to raise his one good hand in an attempt to block her touch, striking out weakly and pushing her hand away from him.

Immediately, panic seized him as he realized what he'd done.

Don't you *ever* fight me! Worthless little piece of shit! How dare you *touch* a human like that, you filthy monster! Looks like you need to learn your place again, vampire...looks like I need to teach you...

When Tara moved toward him again, he flinched violently away from her, shaking his head in a pleading gesture, before lowering his upper body, awkwardly trying to assume the apologetic, supplicating position they so often required of him - his only chance at appeasing them.

Of course, on the sofa, there was very little room to maneuver.

His frightened, clumsy motions as he attempted to bow on the narrow sofa sent him toppling off the edge on to the floor. A jolt of pain shot through his entire body as his broken legs were jarred against the floor in front of the couch, and his torn back scraped against the rough upholstery along the bottom of the sofa.

He bit back an anguished cry of pain that sent a shudder through him, fighting to hold back his reaction and focus instead on what he had to do to prevent further pain. His arms, his back, his entire body trembled with pain and fear as he struggled again to lower himself into a bowing position, desperate to show his submission, to appease the anger she had to be feeling toward him now, in the light of his defiance, going so far as to dare to strike her.

His heart sank when he felt firm hands on his arms, just below his shoulders, gently but insistently pulling him up off his face...and exposing it to whatever she intended to do to him.

***********************************

"Hey...hey!" Tara kept her voice soft, though she could not quite keep the alarm out of it. "It's all right...it's all right..." Her eyes welled with tears for what felt like the hundredth time in the past two days, as she gently pulled him back up off his face. He flinched, but submitted to her touch, simply allowing her to manipulate his body so that he was once more half-kneeling, half-sitting on the floor, facing her. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Sweetie, I didn't m-mean to...to scare you..."

He did not seem to be hearing her, shaking his head in small, frantic motions, trembling uncontrollably. Her eyes widened when she saw that his lips were moving rapidly, though he was not making a sound, and it was difficult for her to make out what he was trying to say.

The fact that he was trying to say anything at all was startling progress.

But as her eyes adjusted to the repetitive motions of his mouth, and she realized what he was saying, her heart sank again, and her tears slipped down her cheeks.

I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry...

His trembling lips formed the words soundlessly, as he still seemed far too terrified to vocalize his pleading chant. He was still afraid that she was going to punish him for...something; she had no idea what he could possibly think he might have done to make her angry with him. If it was simply pulling away from her touch, because he was afraid of being hurt again...well, the implications of that were simply too much for her weary, troubled mind to fathom at the moment.

If they *punished* him...for begging for mercy...for trying to escape their abuse...

She swallowed back the sob that rose in her throat, blinking away her tears, as she softened her grip on his shoulders, leaning him back against the side of the couch before letting him go completely, though she wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms and hold him, offer him some kind of comfort through human contact. She knew, however, that he would not perceive such a gesture as comfort - not yet - and she would likely cause him further pain by aggravating his injuries.

"Shhh," she whispered soothingly. "It's all right. You're okay; I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm not mad, Sweetie. I'm not mad. I'm not gonna hurt you..." She kept talking to him, as his trembling gradually subsided back to what she was beginning to think of as its normal level.

And no one should have a *normal* level of trembling...

"I'm just trying to help you," she assured him gently. "I...I wanna clean your eyes up a little, Sweetie. One of them...well, one of them's...hurt...really badly, but...but I think the other one...I think if I can get some of the b-blood and dirt away...I think maybe..." She hesitated, momentarily debating mentally whether or not she might do more damage than good if her theory was incorrect, and finally deciding that the hope she had to offer him was worth it.

"...you could see..."

********************************

See?

It was difficult to even comprehend what she was telling him. The idea was so foreign to him, after so long spent in utter darkness. He was still trying to come to terms with the idea that she was not going to punish him for striking her. He had expected nothing less than a return blow in retaliation, and likely much worse, for daring to touch her - but she continued to speak softly to him, to reassure him, and gradually he realized a stunning fact.

She was not going to hurt him.

At least...not yet.

Could be a game...a trick...but...but she hasn't played those games...not yet....maybe...

And now, she was promising something he had ached for, but thought could never be his...something he had taken for granted for so long, until it was stolen from him - the simple gift of sight.

Please...please...

"Will you let me try? I promise, I'm not going to hurt you...please?"

It can't be worse than it's been...whatever she does to you...it can't get worse...and maybe...*maybe*...

Fearfully, not at all sure he was making the right choice, he ventured an uncertain nod, and Tara gently proceeded. He flinched when the cloth touched his face, but then forced himself to go still, as she carefully swabbed the tender, red flesh where his eye had been with the warm, clean water.

And it did not hurt. At least...not in the way he had expected.

It was definitely more than uncomfortable, and there were many moments that made him draw in his breath when a certain particularly sore spot was touched, his hand clenching weakly around Tara's leg and silently begging for a break from the necessary suffering. Still, no matter how many times he used the gesture she had shown him, she always patiently allowed him the time he needed to recover - and the terrible, burning, consuming agony he had expected never came.

She was telling the truth, he realized with a sense of awed wonder. Maybe...maybe...

She cleaned his other eye just as gently, as carefully, and as it was not as tender and painful as the first, he found himself focusing instead on the soft warmth of her hands, the gently steadying way she held his head in place, without forcing him or exerting any unnecessary control. As she worked cautiously, he relished the tenderness and compassion, so that when he finally heard the soft splash of the rag falling back into the basin, and knew she was finished, he actually felt a faint sense of disappointment as she pulled her hand away.

"It's okay," she whispered. "All done. It's all cleaned out. Now...can you...can you try to open your eye, Sweetie? Take your time; if it hurts, don't force it, but...but can you try?"

He tried, his heart lurching within him, caught between desperate hope and the terror of disappointment...because if she was wrong, if he couldn't, it would be no less than he feared...but it would devastate him.

Please...please...

He managed to open his swollen eye just a little bit...and a faint trace of color entered his darkened world. It was a soft shade of grey, but it was something besides the agony of dark loneliness in which he had spent the interminable months of his captivity.

It was light, piercing the darkness that shrouded his broken body and shattered spirit...and in its warmth, the seed of hope within him began to grow.