Chapter 64 Plans
"All right. Is everyone here?"
Wesley's polite, quiet voice drew the chatter of the assembled group to a gradual stop, as all eyes in the room turned expectantly toward him. Fred and Anya stood with him behind the reception desk with their books spread out before them. A short while earlier they had requested that the group gather to hear what they had found so far.
"Right. Then, let's get started."
Angel stood near the desk, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw set with determination as he waited in silence. The others were all seated in various places around the room, some in actual chairs, others on the floor, for lack of enough seating for the rather larger than usual group. Spike sat on the floor, his back against the wall, with Tara and Dawn at his sides. Dawn's hand was resting on his knee in a comfortable gesture of friendship and support, while Tara's hand was clasped tightly in his.
Spike drew in a deep, shaky breath, glancing downward before focusing bravely on the ex-Watcher again, waiting apprehensively to see if they had found a way to break Buffy's hold over him. The sanctuary spell kept him physically safe for the moment, but if he could not set foot outside the hotel without falling prey to the Slayer again, than he was still as much enslaved as ever.
Something had to be done.
But was there anything that *could* be done?
"We have discovered a ritual which can break the bond Buffy has placed on Spike, and allow him to defend himself against her again. However, it may prove too difficult to be effective in any practical sense," Wesley explained with an apologetic grimace.
"Why's that?" Angel demanded in a terse, impatient tone of voice which was no more than a sign of his concern for his childe's wellbeing. "Are the ingredients hard to come by? You guys translated the spell, right?"
"Yes, of course," Wesley assured him. "We've translated the text, and it's really not all that complex. And all the ingredients for the spell are things that we have on hand in the hotel, so no one need even risk their safety by venturing outside. What makes the ritual so difficult for us is...well, it's..."
"Buffy's blood."
Wesley glanced over at Spike with a grim nod, his expression solemn as he took in the vampire's carefully controlled expression, noted with compassion how he was struggling to keep his fear from showing on his face. "Precisely," he softly conceded. "The ritual requires the blood of the Slayer and Spike's blood to mingle on a certain spot."
"We can't risk facing her outside the boundaries of the sanctuary spell," Anya pointed out. "But we can't shed her blood in here."
"Not without taking the sanctuary spell down," Fred clarified with an apologetic glance in Spike's direction when the vampire drew in a sharp, alarmed breath. "And...I'm not sure that's something we really want to do."
"We may not have a choice."
Spike looked up at Angel in fearful surprise, his throat going dry with terror at the thought of taking down the one thing that was keeping Buffy away from him. Tara's soft intake of breath beside him alerted him to just how tightly he was squeezing her hand, and he deliberately eased his grip, lowering his head, drawing in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.
"How long does the ritual itself take?" Angel asked, a thoughtful frown on his face. "After you get Buffy's blood?"
"Ten minutes?" Wesley guessed with a little shrug, glancing at Anya for confirmation.
The former vengeance demon nodded her agreement before giving Angel an expectant look.
"What other requirements are there for this ritual?" Tara asked, concern in her voice. "We need to see if we can find a workable plan, so it might help if we know what is and isn't an option."
"Well, the blood of both Spike and Buffy has to be shed in the same spot - within the ritual circle," Wesley explained, turning toward the blonde witch and meeting her eyes. "Which we can form here in the hotel if we like. And their blood doesn't necessarily have to be shed at the same time, so...it's not as if Spike would have to...well..."
An awkward moment of silence descended as Wesley's voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. Spike felt a burning shame heat his face at the unspoken words Wesley had left out. He knew that the other man had been trying to be considerate, assuring him that he would not necessarily have to be in close proximity to Buffy for the ritual, but Spike felt no relief about that at the moment; all he could feel was shame and humiliation at having to be so sheltered and protected by this group of humans.
"So, how does it work?" Willow spoke up in a slightly awkward attempt to break the tension and bring them back to the subject at hand. "We make the circle with the ingredients and all...Spike's blood should be easy enough, we can just get a little and put it in the circle. Now, assuming we find a way to get Buffy's blood as well...what then? What happens next?"
"The person performing the spell has to mingle their blood. There's a ritual chant," Anya answered her question with a bored shrug. "And that's it. Once the chant is finished, the mark in his flesh should disappear, and Buffy's power over Spike will be broken."
"Good," Angel remarked with an approving nod. "I don't want that thing left on him any longer than necessary. The last thing we need to get into with Buffy is some kind of hostage situation, which is highly likely if he can't defend himself against her. As long as the sanctuary spell is down and that bond is still up - we're vulnerable."
Spike felt his humiliation increase, lowering his gaze to his own legs and swallowing back a hard knot that rose in his throat as the others discussed him and his possible fate almost as if he was not even there. He heard the unspoken words Angel was too tactful to voice.
*Spike makes us vulnerable...as long as the bond's in place, he's a weakness...*
The problem was, Spike wasn't quite sure that he would cease to be such a weakness once the bond was broken.
The bond was not the only thing that kept him from defending himself against Buffy.
"Okay, so...one question."
Angel and Wesley both turned their attention on Lorne, who had raised his hand tentatively.
"So...we break the bond and Spike's his own man again. What then?" When no one responded for a moment, he clarified, "We'll still have a psychopathic Slayer on our hands, only she'll pretty much throw a bigger temper tantrum than ever at that point, once we take all her toys away. So...what are we going to do with her?"
Everyone fell silent for a few moments, considering the rather frightening question.
"There's like, a dozen of us," Gunn pointed out with a shrug. "We ought to be able to take her, right? I mean...she's strong, but...so's Angel, and so's Spike, and me...not to mention that the rest of us aren't exactly beginners at this whole thing."
"Have you ever tried to take on a Slayer before?" Angel asked the young man, a bit more tersely than he had intended.
Gunn shrugged again. "No. I think I've always been pretty much on the same side as the Slayer before now."
"She's stronger than you can imagine," Wesley informed Gunn, his expression solemn and warning. "Between the lot of us, we might have the power and resources to subdue her, but it won't be an easy task. She's physically stronger than any of us, and if she realizes that any sort of spell is being performed, she'll naturally do her best to stop the one performing it. Once the sanctuary spell is down, we'll *all* be in grave danger."
"Okay, but let's say we even manage to...to stop her," Xander broke in, alarm in his voice as he searched the grim faces of the apparent leaders of the group. "How exactly are we going to go about that? I mean...okay, it really does seem like something's majorly wrong with her, I'll give you that; but we have no idea *what* is wrong with her - whether or not it can be fixed. If we can help her, we need to!"
"I'm sorry, but right now I'm not so much concerned with helping her as just *stopping* her," Tara countered, her tone firm but not unkind. "She's really crossed a lot of lines, here, Xander. I'm not sure she's even the same girl at all anymore. Our main concern needs to be getting her under control, making sure she doesn't do any more damage to anyone...at whatever cost that might be."
"Okay, right." Willow nodded slowly in agreement. "I get that. Priority number one needs to be keeping her from hurting anybody else. But say we do. How are we gonna handle it once we *do* get her under control?"
"How are we going to get her under control in the first place?" Anya asked pointedly in a dark, ominous voice.
"We'll need to figure out a way to restrain her," Angel replied. "Keep her from doing any more damage until we can figure out what exactly went wrong with her and whether or not it's fixable."
"We should be able to manage that," Wesley mused, frowning a moment later as he added in a troubled voice, "We still have the means to keep her restrained, even considering her Slayer strength. That is, of course, if we're able to subdue her at all."
"We need to have a definite plan," Fred observed. "Know for sure what we're doing before we start doing it. Or this isn't gonna work."
"We will," Angel assured her calmly, a slow smile spreading across his face, his dark eyes lighting up with pleasure as he cast his thoughtful gaze around the room at all of them in turn. "We will. Now listen closely, guys. This is what we're gonna do."
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As Angel outlined his plan, Spike found himself sinking deeper and deeper into his own circling, troubled thoughts, paying very little attention to what his sire was saying. His mind was awash with doubts and uncertainties, birthed anew by a hundred little things the well-meaning people surrounding him had said.
What if Angel's plan didn't work? It seemed to be dependent in many ways on split-second perfect timing, and everything going precisely as planned with no variances of any kind. This ragtag little band of mostly strangers was going to have to work together in perfect cooperation in order to bring about the success they needed.
And Spike knew very well what were the chances of *that* actually happening.
What if they couldn't get her blood to fall in exactly the right place at the right time? What if they tried, and failed, to subdue Buffy? What if they broke the bond, but she still managed to hurt Tara, or Dawn, before they could stop her?
And the worst question of all kept circling around in Spike's mind, taunting him with vicious self-directed insults and judgments, all remembered words from Buffy's lips.
*What if you can't do it? What if even with the bond removed, you still can't stand up to her? You're nothing but a pathetic, worthless little coward, anyway! You're sure to let them all down - to fail them. She's going to kill them all - and it's all going to be your fault!*
Spike was vaguely aware of Tara's concerned look as he pulled his hand abruptly away from hers, crossing his arms defensively across his knees, lowering his head momentarily into them and breathing deeply as he struggled to regain his composure, to steady his thoughts.
"Spike?" Tara spoke his name in a voice that was barely even a whisper, and an instant later Spike felt her gentle fingertips on the back of his neck, rubbing slowly in a soothing circular motion. "You okay?"
Spike couldn't bring himself to respond, swallowing back the sick feeling in his throat as he suddenly felt surrounded, trapped, by the roomful of people who were all focused on helping *him*, rescuing him for good from his former abuser.
Their intentions didn't matter; he was suffocating.
He nodded abruptly, murmuring in hurried response to Tara's question, "Yeah, love. Fine. Just...just need to...to..."
"To what, Spike?" Tara pressed him gently in a whisper, her hand resting lightly on the nape of his neck, fingers playing easily through his blond curls as he raised his head and gave her a weak smile that was not at all convincing. "You need to what?"
Spike stared at her blankly for a moment before replying, "Not be here."
With those words, he lurched hurriedly to his feet. "Excuse me," he mumbled as he strode swiftly out of the now-silent group and toward the staircase, far too aware that all eyes were on him in curiosity and concern.
Tara watched him disappear up the stairs, a worried frown creasing her brow. She hesitated just a moment, reconsidering her previous resolve to leave some of Spike's problems to him for the solving, in order to help him lose some of his dependency on her. Then, she considered Spike, upstairs alone and confused and upset, and utterly at the emotional mercy of the Slayer should she decide to show up in his bedroom again.
It was an easy decision.
Repeating Spike's softly spoken words, "Excuse me," Tara rose to her feet and slipped away from the group, following her vampire up the stairs.