The Fever, Part Nine
Author: Elsa Frohman <elsa@frohman.net>
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through the end of BtVS and AtS S4.
Archive: http://www.the-sandlot.com and http://www.spikedreams.com
Summary: Spike is back and working for Wolfram & Hart as an outside
contractor. He's human, sort of. This is my AU S5 AtS.
Note: Thanks to my fabulous beta, JanK, who has kept the comma
monster at bay and offered some great suggestions.

Liverpool, 1888

Spike followed Drusilla's scent as quickly as he could without
losing the faint traces of fragrance. He loped along the dark
streets, stopping periodically to crouch down and take a fresh read
on the ground.

The trail wasn't difficult to follow most of the time. It was a
still night and scents clung to every surface, lacking any breeze
to stir them. But even as he tracked his errant lover, he kept his
senses sharp for any sound or scent of others approaching. He could
hear them all around in the distance. The trick was to stay out of
their way. Twice he scrambled up a wall to escape an approaching
mob. Concealing himself was easy enough. They were too intent on
tearing into one another to take any notice of him as long as he
didn't move or speak to attract their attention. The mobs would be
largely immobile until one individual broke out and tried to run.
Then the rest would tear after him, shrieking and snarling, and as
often as not overtaking and devouring him. With that vamp gutted
and dismembered, the rest would fall on one another again.

Atop a garden wall on a narrow lane, Spike crouched as motionless
as a stone gargoyle, watching this play out for the second time. In
eight years as a vampire, he'd seen and participated in many an
evisceration, but nothing he had ever experienced compared to the
savagery he witnessed now. The screams and howls of the mad
vampires echoed through the dark, empty streets, and the odor of
fresh entrails threatened to overpower the scent he needed to
follow.

He was chilled to the bone, despite the warm night. This was blood
lust more intense than he could imagine. So many times he'd let the
fever of battle run through him; it was a taste of freedom to lose
himself in the power of his fists and fangs. But now he saw it
amplified a thousand times and turned inside out. The vampires he
was watching weren't drinking the liberation and oblivion of
mindless battle, they were destroying themselves. They were
literally tearing themselves and each other apart. There was no
glory in the fight, just blood and flesh, splattered and wasted. He
wondered for a moment whether this is what Angelus saw when he
lectured about not getting carried away. No, Spike told himself,
the berserker frenzy might be his drug of choice, but he'd never
let it take him to the levels he was seeing now.

A vampire girl -- probably turned when she was a teenager by her
slight figure and young face -- broke away from the mob and ran
blindly down the lane past Spike's vantage point. The mob's din
rose to a new pitch as they turned and pursued her. Spike felt an
irrational impulse to jump down and try to save her. She was no one
he knew or cared about, but something in him didn't like to see a
pretty girl in trouble. His chivalrous streak, when he let it show,
always drew Angelus and Darla's scorn, and in the face of their
disdain, he generally kept it under control. Now was not going to
be an exception. He'd seen enough to know that this girl would turn
on him as surely as the others were turning on her. He had to keep
his wits about him now. This wasn't a time to follow his gut
feelings.

The mob overtook the girl, and her screams rose to a climax. Then
they stopped. The struggle continued, but far enough down the lane
that he could drop to the ground and return to his quest. A light
breeze was picking up now, and he smelled something new -- the
sharp tang of salt water. The sea -- back on the train, Dru had
been going on about eating sailors. He was certain now that was
where she was headed. He didn't bother trying to pick up her scent
again. Instead he turned toward the wind and started to run.

It didn't take him long to reach the wharf. The docks and moorings
were empty. Liverpool was a plague port. Any ship that sailed into
these waters would have departed again with all possible speed. The
only sounds were water lapping at the seawalls and the low creak of
wood on wood as the structures cooled in the night air. Spike could
see the lanterns of a ship anchored just outside the harbor. They'd
come no closer, and they were wise to keep their distance.

There were bales and boxes abandoned on the pavement next to the
docks. No longshoremen had been here to move the cargo for several
days. The odor of rotting food hung in the air, blotting out nearly
everything else. Spike sniffed pavement for Drusilla's scent in
vain. He was about to curse himself for a fool and backtrack to the
last place he'd detected her, when he caught sight of his
objective, fifty yards or so down the waterfront.

She was walking along the seawall, a pale figure in white cotton
voile. She'd shed her black silk skirt and bodice and wore only her
petticoats and camisole now. Pale starlight illuminated her; she
was like a ghost drifting along the water's edge, her face turned
to the sky.

He didn't dare call out to her. Any sound might draw the attention
of the mobs. Instead, he strode toward her, hoping to catch her
attention without startling her into stepping off into the water.

"Dru..." he called softly, when he was drawing near. "Sweetheart.
We have to leave here -- now."

Drusilla stopped abruptly and turned to face him. Her face was void
of recognition. She blinked and tilted her head curiously.

"Come on, pet," Spike cajoled. "We need to find a safe place to
hole up -- the night will be over before you know it, and we've got
to get away from here."

"Drusilla..." Dru whispered. "I've heard that name..."

"It's your name, love. I'm Spike. I'm here to take you to safety."

"Edith..." Dru said, drawing out the sound of the name as if it was
something sweet and comforting.

"Miss Edith is in our luggage back at the station, love. We can't
go back for her. I'll get you a new doll as soon as I can. I
promise..."

It was as if she hadn't heard him. She turned away and looked out
to sea.

"They used to call me Edith. I'm sure of it," she said in a dreamy
voice.

Spike stopped, afraid that if he went any closer, she'd step off
the seawall. This woman wasn't Dru. She wore Dru's body, talked
with her voice, but Spike was sure Drusilla wasn't composing the
words.

"Edith," Spike said softly. "You have to come with me now. I'll
take you away from here."

She turned to face him. Her hair was wild, but her eyes were calmer
than Spike had ever seen them.

"Will you take me back to Mummy?" Dru/Edith asked, looking at Spike
hopefully.

"I'm sorry... I can't..." Spike stammered. "Your mum's gone, love."

"Oh... I remember now. He killed them. Mummy and Daddy and my
sisters. And the nuns. I was going to be a nun, did you know that?
Bride of Christ... I was going to take vows, purge the evil out of
me. But he came..."

She fell to her knees, curling up on the ground as she began to
sob. Spike went to her, settling down beside her and drawing her
into his arms. She laid her face against his chest and wept.

"Sweetheart. We've got to get away. The others, the insane ones,
they'll come and find us here."

"Who are you?" she asked through her tears.

"I'm Sp... William," he said. "I'm here to protect you."

"William? That's a nice name," Edith/Dru said. "You're my paladin --
 my knight in shining armor."

"Yes, I am. I'll always be your protector, pet. But we have to go
now."

"No. I don't want to go."

"We have to."

She pulled away from him, sitting back on her feet.

"It has to end," she said simply.

"No, love. It doesn't have to end. We can go on forever, together,
you and me. We'll walk into eternity. Lovers until the end of the
world."

Edith/Dru shook her head, letting her dark hair tumble over her
face. "No, not forever. I couldn't bear forever," she said,
starting to cry again.

"I can't go on without you," Spike said quietly. "I need you.
You're my whole world. If you leave me, I won't last another day.

"We won't go back to Angelus, sweetheart. It will be just you and
me. I'll never let him come near you again."

Edith/Dru looked directly into his eyes. Her tear-streaked face was
calm, but deeply sad.

"The evil came to me before Angelus. He was just its instrument. It
wasn't his fault. He couldn't help it. It used him to take me."

"What do you mean?"

"The visions. Mummy said they were evil. She was right. I only saw
death -- the roof coming down on the miners, the child who died of
consumption, the man who was run down by the carriage. I wanted to
be cleansed of the evil, but Angelus came then..."

"Edith... Dru, sweetheart. I don't care what your name is, or if
you're good or evil. I don't care. I love you, and I'll always take
care of you. If you want to be rid of the evil, I'll be good for
you. We'll go away, far away, where no one can find us. There'll be
no more killing, no more death."

Edith/Dru shook, her head.

"You can't take me away from evil. It's inside me. It burns. I feel
it every night. The only way is to burn it out. I have to spend it
all. I must be consumed. Only then will I be free. When all that is
good and evil has turned to ash, I'll drift away like a feather on
the wind."

"Tell me what you want me to do, love. Anything... anything at all.
But we have to get away from here."

"Be my champion, William," she said, drawing strength from the
words. "You are my dark knight. You have to stoke the fire; make it
burn so hot that everything is turned to ash. When the good works
of the world are all come to naught, only then will I escape. Will
you do that for me, my darling? Will you burn the world to a
cinder?"

The light in her eyes had changed. Edith was fading away, and
Drusilla was in control again.

"Yes! I'll tear the world from its moorings and sink it in a sea of
blood for you, my love."

"I want to be consumed," Drusilla said simply.

Spike felt a wave of relief that Drusilla had returned to herself,
and he wouldn't have to become William for her.

"Perhaps, love, but not now. Tonight we cheat death again."

He stood and drew her to her feet.

"Come with me now, pet. When we're safe and this place is far
behind us, I'll show you what burns," he said with a smile.

He stood and put a hand down to her. As he helped her to her feet,
he heard the mob coming.

"We've got to run now, pet. We can't let them catch us. When we
die, it will be in a blaze of glory that no one will ever forget.
We're not to be ended by the likes of them."

Drusilla looked confused. Spike wasn't sure she knew what he was
talking about, or the danger they faced from the approaching mob.
He took her by the hand and pulled her along behind him. They'd
only gone a few yards when he saw the second group cutting off
their escape ahead. The two groups had seen them and were rushing
forward now. They were moments from being caught between.

Spike looked around desperately. There had to be a way out. It
couldn't end this way. There was a small booth nearby. A kerosene
lantern, unlit, hung outside the door. Spike rushed to it and took
it down. He had matches in his pocket -- he'd recently taken up
smoking odorous cigars, mostly because it annoyed Darla. Now, if he
could just get the lantern lit in time.

His hands were clumsy as he struck the match and raised the glass
chimney to get to the wick. Luckily, there was plenty of fuel in
the reservoir. The flame touched the wick and caught. He pushed the
chimney back down and held the lantern up in front of him, pushing
Dru back to stand behind.

The two groups merged as they got close. They advanced on Spike and
Dru, the lantern light glinting off their yellow eyes and fangs.
The snarling had subsided to a low growl. As the first of the feral
vampires came almost within arm's length, Spike swung the lantern
in a wide arc, scribing a yellow curve in the air. The lead
attacker dodged, frightened of the flame. Spike feinted forward,
and the mob fell back a step or two, only to lurch forward again
when Spike let the lantern come down to his side. Spike could see
that this wasn't going to hold the mob off for long. Even now, they
were finding the courage to inch forward.

Spike and Dru's backs were to the water. Spike glanced over his
shoulder and noticed, once again, on the horizon, the lights of the
ship just outside the mouth of the harbor. He could swim, but could
he keep Drusilla with him as he did?

He turned back to the mob and raised the lantern over his head,
bringing it down to smash at the feet of their attackers. The glass
chimney shattered, the kerosene spilled, and a wall of flame rose
up between Spike and Dru, and the mob. The mad vampires shrieked as
the fire reached them, setting them ablaze. Spike whirled and
grabbed Drusilla by the waist, pulling her along with him as he
jumped into the water.

They sank into the inky depths, the screams of the burning vampires
fading away above them. Spike kept a tight arm around Drusilla. If
he lost her down here, he'd never see her or smell her to get her
back. The water was cold, dark and silent. Not needing to breathe,
there was no rush to resurface. Spike sank slowly, holding Dru
close to him as they went.

Finally, he kicked and they rose, their heads breaking through into
the warm, humid air. A low mist hugged the water, but Spike could
still see the lights of their objective in the distance.

"Look, pet," he said softly. "A ship. I'll bet it's just full of
sailors. Didn't you say you were hungry?"

Elsa Frohman
http://www.frohman.net/