White Magic

"Okay, note to self," Dawn muttered as she made her way down the dark stairs into the temporarily empty basement. "The 'there are no monsters in the basement' mantra isn't much good when your sister's the Slayer."

Unfortunately, Dawn knew better than most that there was a fairly good chance of finding actual monsters in the basement of the Summers' home - if slightly less of a chance than usual.

Buffy was out patrolling, and Spike had gone with her, for once leaving the house empty - except for Dawn.

Just that fact in and of itself was hurtful to the youngest Summers. She could remember a time not so very long ago when Buffy would not have considered leaving Dawn alone in the house in broad daylight, let alone during the late hours in which she patrolled. Lately, it didn't seem as if Buffy cared much what she did at all.

Spike had seemed more concerned about leaving Dawn alone than Buffy had. He had suggested, in a tone that Dawn now noticed seemed far more hesitant and subdued than his usual way of speaking, that he stay with Dawn while Buffy patrolled, or that they take

Dawn to stay with someone else while they were patrolling - and the look her sister had given him had chilled Dawn's blood.

Buffy's tone of voice had been mild and careless as she had told Spike that Dawn was growing up, and had to be allowed the freedom to be on her own every now and then - and Spike had quietly, nervously accepted her words as they had quickly left the house.

As much as she did not want to see it, Dawn could not help but notice the fear in his downcast eyes as Buffy had firmly gripped his arm and led him out the front door.

"She wouldn't hurt him," Dawn had told herself as she had returned to her room, watching out her window until Buffy and Spike had disappeared down the sidewalk, out of sight, toward one of Sunnydale's numerous cemeteries. "Not for something like that..."

But she had noticed as a hard lump of apprehension had formed in her throat, that Buffy did seem to be yelling at him, though she couldn't hear the words, and she did not let up her grip on his arm the entire time. She wondered uneasily if Buffy knew that there was a possibility that she could still see them from this window - and jumped back with a startled little cry, when just before turning the corner, her sister's head turned back toward the window, her expression angry and threatening.

Her heart pounding with fear, Dawn sat down on her bed, feeling sick to her stomach as her mind raced to catch up with what she had seen - which, admittedly, had not been that much.

*She probably didn't see me,* she told herself. *She was looking back to see if anyone was watching - but she probably didn't see me...I moved too quick...yeah...I was pretty fast...*

She sighed, swallowing back the sick feeling as she reached under her bed for the item she had secreted there earlier, the key to Tara 's plan. She really had no idea whether Buffy had seen her or not - but either way, it did not change what they were going to do.

After tonight - it really wouldn't matter.

Dawn made her way down the stairs and to the basement door, hoping that Buffy would have left it unlocked. After all, Spike was with her, so there was no reason for her to keep it locked, right? Not unless - unless there were other things down there, things that she was trying to hide.

*What if it's locked?* she thought, the sick feeling returning. *Then what? How can we...?*

The thought died a joyful death as the handle turned under her hand, and the door easily opened.

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

A couple of hours later, Dawn lay in the darkness of her own bedroom, the rest of the implements of the plan laid out on her nightstand before her, a part of her excited and relieved that, as planned, she was gathering the necessary evidence to prove what Buffy had been doing to Spike. That same part of her felt a sense of pride and accomplishment that she had played such an integral part in the plan, bringing about their success with a simple baby monitoring set and a handheld tape recorder.

The other part of her was shattered, broken, and drenched with her tears, as she listened to the voices and other sounds coming through the speaker of the baby monitor, as they were recorded onto the tiny recorder placed beside it.

Every word only served to break her heart more thoroughly.

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

"Please!" Spike gasped, barely able to catch his breath for the pain as Buffy stalked toward the place where he lay - where she had violently thrown him from the top of the basement stairs. "Buffy, don't..."

"Shut. Up," the Slayer ordered coldly, catching him by the collar of his shirt and slamming him painfully into the wall, moving right up into his face. "You just keep your stupid mouth shut, do you hear me, Spike?"

He struggled for control, barely able even to gain his bearings from the violence of her attack, and was just beginning to nod his head shakily in response, when she jerked him away from the wall and slammed him back into it again.

"I said *do you hear me*?" she snarled, backhanding him and knocking his head back into the wall again.

"Y-yes," he whispered, desperate for her to know that he was trying to respond, trying to keep up, through the pain and confusion of this attack - this relentless attack for which he still had not quite figured out the reason. "Yes, Buffy..."

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

*I said *shut up*!*

Dawn had never heard her sister's voice so full of hatred, so thoroughly dark and terrifying; and something deep within her heart cried out at the injustice of the way she was treating Spike, the unfairness and thoughtless brutality, toying with him in a game that there was no way he could win.

She flinched at the sounds that followed the furious words, painfully aware that they were evidence of a savage beating that was being dealt to her friend - while she lay here...and listened.

*You can't stop her, Dawnie,* Tara 's words echoed in her mind. *Not by yourself. All you're supposed to be doing is gathering the evidence. That's it. Then, you bring it to me, and we'll go from there.*

*Open your mouth, Spike...*

An anguished cry of pain echoed from the tiny speaker, sending a chill of sick dread through Dawn's heart, as she heard her friend's voice begging, babbling a pitiful stream of desperate words.

*No, no, please, don't do this, Buffy, please, no, *no*...*

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

Her blows had sent him to the floor, her fists and feet delivering a relentless attack, until he had been huddled helplessly in the corner of the room, unable to escape, unable to defend himself - utterly at her mercy.

Except that - she had none.

She had given him no time to recover, before stalking toward him, gripping his hair and yanking him back onto his back on the floor, holding his head down as she straddled his waist, pinning his arms to his sides. Leaning over him, still holding his hair in a cruel grip, she had snarled her order, "Open your mouth, Spike."

He opened his eyes as he hesitantly obeyed her command - knowing no response to her at this point but obedience - but his eyes had widened with horror when he had seen the tiny glass vial she held in her hand, and he had tried uselessly to pull away from her, begging her desperately not to do what she appeared ready to do.

Angrily she used her hand in his hair to slam his head against the floor, dizzying him and momentarily stilling his struggles, as she leaned down close to his face to warn him coldly, "Don't be stupid! You're gonna do what I tell you to do, Spike. If you can't keep your mouth shut, I'll just have to help you. Now what did I tell you to do, Baby?"

"O-open my mouth...please...oh, God, Buffy, please don't do this," he sobbed out the words, unable to keep from it, despite the protests from the remnants of his pride.

As she leaned in closer, the bottle hovering over his face, sheer instinct would not allow his body to obey her heartless command.

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

Dawn had no way of knowing exactly what it was that her sister was doing to Spike, and honestly, she did not really *want* to know -- but she knew that it had to be horrible, had to be beyond her comprehension, to reduce the proud, bold vampire she had known to such a desperate, pleading state.

She realized all at once through her shock that the comforter beneath her slack jaw was soaked with the tears that had run down from her face into the fabric, and she shook her head with denial at the troubling sounds of the slight struggle now emanating from the speaker in front of her.

*You don't have to listen to it all, Dawnie...*

Once again Tara's words echoed through her mind, as her hand hovered over the knob that would turn the sound off.

*Once you know you have enough to prove to the others how -- how far she's really gone -- then you can turn it off...*

But somehow, she couldn't quite bring herself to turn it off.

She didn't want to hear it -- but she didn't want to have to wonder what she *hadn't* heard, either.

In the next few moments, however, her feelings on the matter -- and her sister -- would change forever.

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

"You'll open your mouth, now, Spike," Buffy sneered softly, her warm breath a further assault on his trembling skin, her hand holding his head firmly in place, "or -- well -- I could go upstairs, and -- find other things to do..."

It took a few moments for Spike to realize what it was that she was really saying, and when it became clear to him, his eyes opened wide, meeting hers over his tightly closed lips with an expression of panic and disbelief, as he shook his head desperately.

"Y-you -- wouldn't," he whispered, a note of heartache and anguish to his voice. "Buffy, you wouldn't hurt her...you wouldn't hurt Dawn..."

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

At the sound of her own name, Dawn's breath had caught in her throat, her eyes widening in shock and horror. Until Spike had said those words, it had not occurred to her that her sister might be threatening *her* safety.

*Surely -- surely she didn't mean -- Buffy wouldn't...*

*Hurt her?* Buffy scoffed, her voice tinny through the small speaker on the baby monitor. *Spike -- you'll do what I say -- or I'll *kill* her!*

A cold, aching sensation began to slowly spread through Dawn's chest, seeping through her veins, numbing her entire body, as she slowly shook her head, trying to deny what she had heard so clearly.

It couldn't be true...it *couldn't* be...

But she had heard it, with her own ears. It *was* true.

Her tears began to flow again, as deep sobs overwhelmed her, and she lowered her face to the bed and cried like the lost little girl that she was.

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

"No," Spike whispered, his voice trembling as he closed his eyes, fear evident in the taut, terrified expression on his face. "No, Buffy, don't hurt her -- I'll -- I'll do whatever you tell me to do...please..."

"Open. Your. Mouth."

Trembling, doing his best to prepare himself for the anguish he knew he was about to feel, Spike slowly obeyed -- knowing that he could do nothing else. He knew full well that Buffy meant her threat, that she was more than capable at this point of doing serious damage to her little sister -- and he could not let that happen, no matter what the cost to him.

Buffy laughed softly, a quiet sound of wicked triumph, as she lowered the vial slightly to the side, holding his gaze as she poured it out onto the stone floor beside him.

Most of it.

"Please, Spike," she scoffed softly, though the look in her eyes was deadly serious. "I've tried that trick with a vamp before -- instant dustage. And I am *sooo* not through with you yet."

As she spoke, she took a soft rag that she had often used to gag him before, and poured the tiny bit of holy water she had left in the bottle into it, rubbing it between her palms to dampen the rag more thoroughly. A wicked gleam in her eyes, she smirked at him as she went on,

"This should be diluted enough. Just -- try not to swallow too much." She gave a calloused shrug as she shoved the rag into his open but unwilling mouth.

Instantly, his body attempted to reject it, as the moisture in it began to scald the sensitive flesh on the roof of his mouth -- but Buffy's hand quickly clamped over his lips, holding it firmly in as with her other hand, she unbuckled his belt and tore it from the loops of his jeans.

"Unh-uh-uh," she teasingly rebuked him as she wrapped the belt around his face, using it to both blind him, and to hold the gag in his mouth, buckling it tightly behind his head. Moving in close, one hand possessively on the back of his head, she smiled at his weak, pleading moans of pain as she smiled into his ear, "You've got to be punished. You should have done it because I *told* you to -- not because I threatened Dawn. It shouldn't matter *what* I threaten you with -- you need to obey me because it's *me* -- do you understand me, Spike?"

He nodded weakly, only because he knew that if he didn't, he would be further punished, his eyes rolling back as he struggled for consciousness against the searing pain that was seeping through his mouth, coating the back of his throat with burning agony.

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

"And besides," Buffy went on, and Dawn could almost hear the shrug of her shoulders in her voice. "If I want to kill her -- I'll kill her. You can't stop me, Spike. I'll do what I want. Think about that."

Dawn's head snapped up, her eyes wide with fear, as she heard footsteps slowly ascending up the basement stairs, through the speaker on her nightstand. Buffy's chilling words slowly sank into her mind, and she swallowed hard as she quickly reached with trembling hands to turn off the baby monitor, the tape recorder, and to shove both items hurriedly under her bed.

Buffy was coming upstairs.

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

Spike's heart sank with anguish and despair, every bit as torturous as the physical pain she was subjecting him to, even in her absence, as a cold sense of terror came over him at her parting words, the words she had spoken to him as she had chained his wrists above his head again, leaving him alone and helpless in the basement once again.

Dawn.

He could not protect her, no matter how badly he wanted to -- not against Buffy, not the way she was now.

Tears streamed from his eyes, and he struggled uselessly against the chains, wondering desperately if Buffy would now decide to hurt her, just to prove her point to him, just to punish him for his resistance.

*Stupid,* he berated himself through his tears. *If she kills her it's your fault, you know that! Stupid, stupid...*

He choked back a desperate sob that only served to increase his physical pain, as his heart sank with the realization...

He had failed her.

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

Dawn's heart was pounding frantically in her chest as her sister's footsteps sounded softly on the stairs leading up to her bedroom. Buffy's horrifying words still echoed in her mind, her thoughts racing as she tried to decide whether or not she had really meant them.

*She wouldn't really...she just said that to...Spike...just to...to scare him...she wouldn't...Buffy...oh, no...she wouldn't, would she....?*

Dawn's thoughts were half-formed, confused, ripped to shreds and scattered by her panic, as she heard her bedroom door softly creaking open.

"Dawnie?"

Her heart thudded in her throat, as she lay as still as possible, her back to the light from the door, her eyes closed, hoping and praying that Buffy would simply turn and walk away when she thought that she was asleep.

She did.

And once she had heard Buffy's own bedroom door closing quietly behind her, Dawn felt her sobs welling up within her again, sobs of mingled relief, terror, confusion -- and guilt.

Tara had told her that she could not really stop Buffy -- that by going down to the basement, as she would surely want to, she would only succeed in getting both her and Spike hurt worse -- and she knew that her friend was right.

But that didn't make her feel any better about lying up here and listening and doing nothing while Spike suffered.

While he suffered to protect *her*.

*You failed him,* she accused herself softly, tears streaming from her eyes. *You should have done something -- you failed him.*