Tara's heart pounded as she stared around the empty living room, wondering how the battered, unconscious vampire had managed to disappear completely. He couldn't possibly have gotten far, not in his condition...unless he was somehow not quite as badly injured as she had thought at first.

*Or...or what if he...?*

Tara looked more closely at the sofa, searching for signs of the dust he would have left behind if he had done as she feared, and finally succumbed to his terrible and countless injuries. However, from where she stood the sofa looked the same as always. The tarp lay empty, half on the couch, half on the floor; he had to have moved somehow.

A brief moment of panic came over her, as Tara wondered, not for the first time, if the vampire was dangerous.

Just then, she heard a soft scuffling sound, and cautiously moved farther into the room. The moment she was close enough to the couch to see beyond it, her fears faded away into heartbroken compassion.

The vampire was on the floor against the wall a mere yard away from the couch, bracing himself on his good arm. The other arm, attached to the shoulder she had just repaired, was likely still painful, judging by the way it hung awkwardly in front of him, the useless hand curled palm up and inward toward his stomach as if in an attempt to protect it from further injury.

As Tara watched, the vampire dragged himself on his good arm further back against the wall, and she noticed with horror that he was dragging his legs, which were a mangled mess of bruised, mottled flesh, bent awkwardly in several places. Bruises were layered over bruises, indicating that a single injury had not caused all the marks. His legs had clearly been broken repeatedly, and never properly set.

He was holding himself up on his trembling right arm, his shoulder braced against the wall - and he was perfectly still, not daring to move or breathe, his head bowed slightly.

*Oh, boy,* Tara thought with grim resolution, steeling herself for the difficult interaction to come. *Here we go.*

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

The sharp pain in his injured shoulder as it was popped back into place roused him to a semiconscious state. As he gradually became aware of his surroundings, he felt the soft surface beneath him, alarmed, because he knew that he would never be allowed such a comfort.

It had to be a trick.

They were waiting, just outside the door, waiting for just the right moment to sweep in and punish him for his mistake. With an effort, he rolled off the soft surface, his battered body hitting the floor hard. He convulsed with pain, his back arching slightly as a silent scream of anguish tore his throat.

Those strange noises, coming from nearby, but muffled, as if from another room, drove his panic higher, and he blindly dragged himself across the floor, seeking some place to hide, to make himself invisible and avoid punishment - because he would surely be punished. He was not where he was supposed to be.

Not that they needed a reason to punish him.

By now he knew that there was no escape, so when his shoulder hit the wall, he stopped, simply huddling there, and waiting...waiting for the pain to begin again, as his mind raced with desperate pleas his mouth could not pronounce.

Panicked, the vampire pressed himself against the wall as hard as he could, desperately trying to make out the source of the strange sounds he heard, distant, yet near enough to be terrifying.

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

Very slowly, Tara picked up her supplies again and approached the frightened creature, wanting to calm him and reassure him that he was safe, but afraid that any contact at all would startle him and increase his panic. She decided that for better or worse, she had better say something before she got too close to him, to try to let him know that he was safe here.

"Hey, there," she began softly.

Immediately he flinched, pressing closer to the wall, but making no attempt to get away as she drew cautiously nearer. She paused at the sofa to set down the supplies in her arms, before edging closer to the spot where the vampire huddled against the wall, apparently trying to press himself physically into it to hide.

"It's okay," she assured him, her voice barely over a whisper. "It's all right. You're safe now..."

Her words did not seem to register through the vampire's panic. He was shaking violently by now, clearly terrified. As Tara crouched down in front of him, her every movement slow and gentle, he tensed, sensing her nearness, though she knew he could not see her. She swallowed hard, her eyes averted uncomfortably, unable to bring herself to look at the mess that had been made of his damaged face. Her heart broke a little for him as she wondered what other senses might have been stolen from this poor, abused creature.

"C-can you hear me?" she asked softly, reaching out a tentative hand to rest on his upper arm in a feather-light touch.

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

The vampire flinched violently backward, slamming his head into the wall with a crack and cringing in pain, taking it as the penalty for resisting her...whoever she was. A shudder went through him, as his good arm bent slightly, and he slid down against the wall, trying to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

"I'm sorry," the girl said in an anxious voice full of distress. "I'm sorry...I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise. You're safe; I'm not gonna hurt you. Please, if...if you can hear me...just...nod your head?"

His muddled mind raced as he tried to decipher what he was supposed to do. She had asked him a question. Was he supposed to tell her the truth, that yes, he could hear her? Or was he not supposed to be able to hear her? It was so hard to keep the right answers straight, when they changed the rules on him as often as possible, deliberately doing their best to trip him up, to cause him to fail and be punished.

Tentatively, he gave a slight nod, barely even a tiny jerk of his head, steeling himself for suffering, should he have made a mistake.

"W-was that a yes? You can hear me?" she pressed him.

He nodded again, a bit more certainly...then flinched when he heard her move toward him, cringing against the wall, convinced he had given the wrong response.

*Wrong answer...'m bad...gonna be punished...please, don't...*

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

Tara's heart lurched as the panicked vampire jerked back against the wall, his useless arm pulled slightly up in a pitiful gesture of pleading or defense. She mentally reminded herself not to move without warning him first, as she went perfectly still again, keeping her voice soft and even as she tried again to calm him.

"No, it's okay...it's okay. That's really good; I'm *glad* you can hear me, okay? I'm not gonna hurt you...I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise...okay?"

The vampire did not acknowledge her words in any way, but he did not move as she slowly edged toward him again.

"It's all right," she repeated. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm just gonna...take the gag off. Okay? I'm just gonna take this off so you can talk...all right?"

He did not respond, not a nod or a sound. His utter silence was terribly unnerving to Tara, as was his lack of breath. She knew that vampires did not have to breathe, but the unnatural stillness of his body as he froze in terrified anticipation, the eerie quiet that filled the room when she was not speaking, left her feeling anxious and unsettled.

"It's okay," she murmured, almost automatically by this point, as she reached up, very slowly and gently, to touch the leather cord that bound the gag in his mouth.

He jerked slightly at the first touch of her hand, but then froze, not moving at all as she felt along the cord for the place where it was tied. He was trembling violently, and there was a slight tic in his jaw, but he did not try to pull away from her or get her to stop touching him.

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

He didn't dare pull away, as her hands moved slowly over the back of his head, along the painful line where the leather cord cut into his skin. She had said she was going to remove the hated gag, the source of maddening ache in his jaw, and he barely dared to hope for just an instant that she might - but why would she? They wanted him silent; they had established that a long time ago.

Suddenly, he felt the cord go slack at the top of his skull, and she was gently unwinding it, pulling it away from his bowed head. Spike fought not to pull away as he felt a soft hand under his jaw, very lightly tilting it upward. Obediently he moved his head in the direction she guided it, willing to do whatever she wanted, anything she said, if only he could avoid further pain.

"It's all right," she said softly as she tilted his face first one way, then the other, and he heard the slight critical note in her voice, sensed that she was inspecting him. He felt terribly apprehensive and self-conscious, afraid of what might happen if her inspection revealed something that displeased her. "I won't hurt you. You're doing good, Sweetie. You're doing so good."

He grasped onto her words with desperation, though he had heard such promises before, his shattered heart crying out for the mercy she seemed to be offering.

*Please...don't hurt me...I'll do whatever you ask, please...*

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

Tara stared aghast at the thick wad of white cloth that filled the vampire's mouth, preventing him from closing it completely. The cord that had been wound under his jaw had bitten into the flesh, leaving it raw and red and obviously painful. Appalled, she managed to keep her voice calm and gentle as she continued talking to him, trying her best to keep him from becoming too frightened as she carefully worked over him.

She felt a little sick when she noticed how easily he moved with her every suggestion, every slight push of her fingertips against his face, as if he had been trained to submit to such manipulations, and dared not resist in any way.

The leather cord removed, Tara turned her attention to the enormous wad of fabric in his mouth, feeling anger and disgust rise up in her as she wondered who could have treated him so terribly.

*No wonder he can't talk...well, that's gotta go, like...yesterday.*

"We've gotta take this out," she informed him gently, touching the cloth with her fingertips. "Can you spit it out?"

He hesitated, then lowered his head a bit, apparently attempting to spit it out, but making no progress. Carefully Tara reached for the end of the cloth and gave it a gentle tug, maneuvering it out of his mouth, taking great care not to hurt him as she did so.

The vampire's shoulders trembled as the cloth fell to the floor, and Tara was almost certain that this time it was a reaction of relief. Still, he did not dare to move, except for a very slight flexing of his jaw as he slowly closed his mouth, opening it and then closing it again in a tentative way - almost as if he had nearly forgotten how. Tara felt a rush of sympathy for him, realizing that it had to hurt terribly to move his mouth, after having it held in that painfully awkward, wide open position for so long.

Maybe it was the trembling, or the miserable hunched position of his shoulders, that made her think of it, but all at once Tara was glaringly aware of the fact that the vampire was still completely naked. She reached behind her and took one of the blankets from the sofa, unfolding it and reaching to gently lay it across his abdomen and legs.

He jerked away, and Tara noticed with alarm a tiny little spasm in his chest as he pulled back against the wall, shaking. She also noted with increasing unease...despite the fact that the gag had been removed, he still had not made a single sound.

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

At the unexpected sensation of being covered, the vampire panicked again, not sure what she was doing or what she intended.

"It's all right," the soft, reassuring voice insisted. "It's just a blanket. It's okay; you're safe."

When he felt the soft weight across his lower body, he began to calm a bit, realizing that she was telling the truth and relishing the rare feeling of warmth, but not daring to touch the blessed luxury. He wondered once more at what was happening, where he was, why she was doing these things. He had never been allowed such comforts before at the hands of his captors; and he didn't remember going anywhere, so he had to still be...there...didn't he?

She had to be one of them...so why was she being so kind to him?

Why now?

"Can you see at all?"

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

"Can you see, Seventeen?"

He shook his head in frantic denial, holding up his hands in a pleading gesture, trying to keep perfectly still so they wouldn't see, wouldn't know...

A heavy boot flew toward his face, and he flinched before he even had time to think of controlling the instinctive reaction...and the foot never connected. His heart sank as he realized that he had given his words away as a lie with his movement, his reaction to the faint beginnings of sight he was regaining...again.

The boot drew back again, but this time connected in an excruciating kick to his shattered legs. A cruel fist gripped his throat, slamming him back against the wall and sending a searing, tearing pain through his agonized, inflamed neck, as a harsh, angry voice spat menacing words in his face.

"You little liar. We've warned you about lying to us, haven't we? *Haven't we*?"

He tried to nod, but could barely move his head within the man's brutal grasp. Suddenly, he found himself slammed violently down against the cold tile floor on his back, and a second powerful hand fisted in his hair, savagely wrenching his head back and holding it in place. Panic seized him, because he knew what they were going to do, and he struggled weakly against the soldier who was now straddling him, pinning him down with his greater weight and strength.

*Please!* he cried out in his mind, his voice silenced by their torment. *Please, don't...please don't do this... don't take my eyes again!*

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

"Can you see at all?"

The simple question drove a dagger of fear through his heart, and he froze completely for a long moment, an agony of indecision filling him with panic. Finally, he ventured a hesitant shake of his head. He heard her move slightly, and flinched back against the wall, shaking his head emphatically, pleadingly.

*Please...please don't...*