Standing the Test of Time

Author: Erin-Starlight

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters nor am I making money off this. This is just for fun.

Summary: When captured in the aftermath of a battle Spike finds himself at the mercy of his old rival--Count Dracula. Will he be saved before it’s too late or will he be lulled into something even more dangerous than the Counts’ wrath?

Warning: This is slash. It will have some Spike/Dracula and Spike/Angel in it. This is a challenge I took up to do a Dracula slash fic with the guys. I'm not usually a slash writer but I did it for this challenge, where I had to set in up some in my last fic.

Authors Note: This story takes place after my one shot “William Restored.”

Spoilers: For the Peter David IDW comics Spike vs. Dracula 1-5.

This was unbelievable! Okay, maybe Angel could see Illyria not listening to him, Faith was a slayer so she had to figure out the mysterious dark stranger, whatever. They were supposed to be looking for Spike and Mihai wasn't shining any light on that so why stick around? Yeah, it sort of had been his idea in the first place but how long was it going to take them to do this? No information meant that they had to move on. Time never was his friend and there were already too many losses with rescues that came too late. Angel didn't want to add a new name to that list.

Scanning the endless basement he saw Illyria relentlessly tapping at buttons staring unblinkingly at the flashes on the miniature tv screen. He tilted his head not understanding the appeal. It was a little weird how she had taken to it. How did she know what buttons to push to do those things? These games were kinda gory...Spike must love them. Rapidly changing course he spotted Faith quietly conversing with this Mihai guy who seemed to be messing with a silver cuff.

Moving along to find Connor so that they could figure out their next move Angel suddenly stopped in his tracks. He had smelled a very familiar scent that set his mind on fire and called to him. Familiar blood that never failed to drive his senses into overload inspiring alertness. Spikes’ blood.

Back stepping Angel gave into his demon self to sniff out the source. There was no trail that would lead to the wayward vampire, it was only located in one place. One item to be precise.

"Where did you get that?" He demanded nudging his head jerkily at silver band in the young magic users hand.

"Angel?" Connor hesitated to question his father wondering if he actually figured something out. Half believing he was simply starting trouble for the sake of it. Angel did not deal with road blocks to his mission well. Less when someone he knew was endangered.

"Smell--,"Angel quickly changed course thinking that it wasn’t in their best interest to let these people know about Connors’ abilities yet. "It smells," he nodded again to the cuff, "like Spikes’ blood."

Faith came forward to get a better look at what she had undoubtedly assumed was a piece of junk. Or something kinky. He really didn’t care at that point, he only wanted to know one thing.

"Where is Spike?"

He wondered if Angel was overly upset with him about the exchange. Sergio snorted at his thoughts, he KNEW Angel would be furious at him. If not at the moment when his concern for William the Bloody (which he would deny under pain of death) then later when he found himself indebted to the demon who had given them up to a dictator to be. It wasn’t like Sergio wanted much in return. Money, protection from others and his own condo would be nice. Dwelling in an underground cave had lost it’s appeal decades ago.

Though you had to be careful with the humans about, Sergio and his kind would never be mistaken for those fleshy tight skinned beings. Reptilian in appearance with his scaly skin, pointed teeth, awkwardly large claws did not make it possible for everyday outings. Spells failed to hid the nature of his people too. Sort of funny really since most were magic users. One of the prices he supposed of using it.

The pool of water wavered as he passed making Sergio pause. He hadn’t been stomping around, aware as he was with the fragile mixes he was brewing, and thus was confused at what could have disturbed the surface. Crouching down on his hunches he peered at the gathering ripples in curiosity. No earthquakes could touch this place. He had learned from the Masters’ folly. His razor sharp eyebrows rose in alarm when bubbles arose starting from the center. It seemed to be draining from the bottom like a whirl pool.

Realization came too late, Sergio hadn’t thought that the barriers would be penetrated again. Mihai had been an ally and powerful which had made the earlier breach acceptable.

"Where are they?" A crossbow was leveled at him before the sentence had been asked. Five young women in clothing not unlike those special ops outfits on TV were gather around an older human. Male and much weaker appearing than the tough women totting weapons with ease. He inspected his glasses causally like breaking into a demons’ lair through a magical portal of water was an everyday happening that no longer warranted his attention.

"How did you––?"

The man chuckled at replacing the glasses into his breast pocket. "It’s not that difficult to tap into an open channel after we trace Angelus and his people to this location." He had said "people" like he was simply using the term loosely to speak about beings far lower than that. "While you closed one of the connections you failed to close the one that opened up on the train. Very careless."

With a slight indication with his head the amazons like women attacked like rapid dogs whose leashes were cut. Never much of a fighter Sergio was helpless to defend himself. Bones broke with harsh cracks, slices opened up flesh and yellow blood poured out to stain his homes’ floor.

"Ladies, I think it’s time we had a little lesson." The old mans’ face stretched into what Sergio imagined a smile was supposed to look on his face. It was too malicious to be called one on any other face.

"Jane?" One of the girls, the one who had taken an unsettling amount of brutality paled.

"Yes, sir?"

"This creature is part of a demon race that eats babies--human ones."

Janes’ eyes widen in horror not hearing Sergios’ attempt to give her the truth. "This one is helping Angelus, the worst vampire ever recorded for his evil. He has complete disregard for human life. Even if this beast were not evil itself that alone would be reason enough to cleanse us of it. Anyone--" The male human raised his voice and caught all of the womens’ eyes, "--anyone that abets such immoral beings condones their actions and should be dealt with in the same manner."

Her face hardened flicking the copious blood that clung to her. "Your fault my dear was your dealing with them. Quick deaths are too good for such sinful depraved beings." He strolled to Sergio grinning cheerfully when he lowered himself to the floor to get into his victims eye range.

"They have to be made to suffer for their crimes you see." The human reached into his inner pocket to get out a handkerchief. "Otherwise their never learn." In lightening fast moves that he pulled out a dagger diving it into Sergios’ arm. The demon howled. "They have to learn before they die. Now Jane, I’m going to teach you the proper way to deal with these creatures and get the information we need."

Spike wasn’t aware of anything other than the various types of misery he was experiencing. His body was throbbing like a long forgotten pulse. Skin still sizzled with the burn of holy water though his tormentor had taken a break to admire his work. Soon his pants would be removed and the sponge bath torture would continue. His hold of his sanity was precarious at best. The soul made it harder to endure such abuse. The harsh half-truths that were told were not heard much now that Spike was having difficulty focusing on the present outside the anguish.

He could hear the voices of his victims cheering on the Romanian mans’ attentions. It was deserved, he was not a man and should not be treated as one. The humans in Sunnydale were there too turning up their noses at him in disgust. Harris like always saying how they should have killed him long ago. How Buffy had lowered herself by being with such a debase creature.

Her eyes were hard and unyielding as usual. She was worse than the others, even his niblet, who wished he had stayed dead. Burnt to a crisp.

"Did you ever really think you were a champion? We don’t you know." Buffys’ image informed him with a toss of her head.

Silken golden locks whipped over her shoulder at the motion reminding him of the hours he spend worshiping her with his entire being. Spike would play with the strands until she would push him away again. He saw them flip like that when she was turning away from him, usually in a furious huff. She cut it once simply because he confessed to loving her hair being long free and wild like he thought of her.

Spike knew that he should have learned long ago to hide his heart better. Yet he kept putting himself out there where he would get trampled.

"We were all glad that you were dead. You outlived your purpose a long time ago and did I mention the clingy-ness? I was sick of listening to you bitching about your soul. Get over it Spike, you’re worthless to all of us, why pretend any different?"

"Maybe because that’s what Willy does best." Spikes’ stomach lurched at the sight of Angel. His mind was playing tricks with him again. Angel appeared exactly as he had during their night together. Only the Angelus-like smugness and sadistic grin were out of place.

"Our Spikey likes to play the big bad but he’s still the same pathetic little heartbroken poet. The mamas’ boy. The loser that tries to play with the big boys." The brunet swatted down to met Spikes’ gaze as the torturer poured a fresh bowl of holy water. The other was murky with the blood mixed in.

"Remember when I got you to roll over for me that night with barely any effort. God, you were such a fawning little piece of ass. You’re always so easy. Just make you feel special and you’ll give it up to anyone. I had a good laugh afterwards at how you seemed to think there would be more in the morning. You know I watched your face the entire time. So needy. Gullible. No one wants you Spike, not more than a pity screw anyway. And there’s so much to pity."

Spike would have cried if the tears would have come. Why did he need affection when there would be none to be had? He should have learned to be a loner by now. Should have learned a great many things yet he hungered for contact. For friendship, family and for the elusive love that would last for the rest of his days.

Was it really worth it though? Spike was more than willing to suffer a world that tormented him at every turn and lay down his life for love. No one was willing to go to such lengths for the vampire. He had never felt wholly loved by anyone and half wondered if anyone was capable of it.

Spike knew that Buffy had no idea who she was nor what she wanted yet. Even if she did it would never be him. Their worlds didn’t mesh and neither did her and Angels'. The older vampire and him...Spike didn’t know what he had ever thought would come of it. He supposed he knew that Angel would never feel that way about him. That was laughable. Loving Angel had never been something he had thought on. They were family in a sense, he had held get respect and affection for the other man. He couldn’t see it developing into love.

It might have been the closest thing he could have hoped for. An equal partnership he supposed, where someone finally at least understood him. It had felt safe, tender and Spike could--did see it working when they were together. In reality they were never truly together in any case. Spike simply had read too much into it like usual. Angel wanted something real and unlike Spike he was capable of getting it.

A drop of water hissed against his skin drawing him out of his musings to see the Romanian pulling at his pants while clutching a new soaked washcloth in the other. He smiled sadly at this fate. No one would know what happened to him when this was done at last. No one would care. That wasn't all that different from his last death really though the last one was going out on a bang. This was less than a whimper.

The tent flaps were roughly pushed to the side and Spike blinked up to see the new arrival. The man yelled, spewing out curses and Spike gave a tiny soundless laugh not altogether sure if he was imaging the vampire or not. Darkness took him again and he knew no more.