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.

He did not know what he had expected to see upon entering the tent. The smell hit him before his mind could take in the image. Burnt flesh and blood. A human was crouched by a beaten figure of a man, the one that the smells were obviously coming from. Dull blue eyes stared up at him for a fleeting moment making his stomach clench. It was Spike who looked so unlike himself. Almost...he didn’t even want to think it...almost defeated.

Noticing him the man rose, the vampire would have surely have ignored him if not for his spewing hateful words.

"Come to get this little bitch of yours?" He sneered going on in Romanian with such vulgar talk that in a flash the demons’ hand was at his throat without realizing he had taken the action. Fangs were weapons to inflict the pain that his hands did not. The animal rage that had overtaken him would have gone further if not for the small whimper from Spike.

Remembering himself he called out for assistance, giving his people directions for taking care of the younger vampire. Once that concern was dealt with he returned his attention to the bleeding man in his grasp.

"Yours would have been a quick death as you are not worthy of my time. You will suffer for this outrage but not by death. That I deny you!"

He sadly could not devote too much effort with the man but the three hours gave him much satisfaction. To hear the begging for mercy that would never come, oh how he had missed it. Drinking from the fresh puncture wounds was something he refused to do. That tainted blood was far too wretched to taste. Once he was pleased by the complete destruction of the human mind, a master piece really, he dragged him outside into the center of the camp.

Those that knew him shuddered at the mask of hate and disgust as he regarded the sobbing creature. It’s tears had long since run out, it’s tongue no longer an issue. With one final glance the vampire heaved the mans’ body onto the wooden stake, impaling him with one swift move. The limp body hung there like a pathetic scarecrow with it’s legs several feet off the ground. There the man would stay as a reminder. The sign nailed to the base only re-forced this in case people were too dense to get the message. In either case it was more than fitting.

"Is he alive?"

"Yes, I know how to make it last." The vampire informed her. Many seemed to have forgotten his talent for this as of late. "Is he safe?"

The helplessness he detested returned in full force at the thought of Spike. Dracula knew sunrise was not far off and longed to return to the other mans’ side. He knew that he should have held onto his anger longer-- no one would make a fool out of him-- yet seeing Spike hurt... With those words carved into his flesh...instincts to protect his beautiful wild William were going into overdrive. Feelings he never thought he would have again, much less for another man. Not since Anthony.

"Yes, Master. They are dealing with his injuries as we speak. What do you wish us to do with the rest of the camp?" Anselina asked unable to keep herself from watching the fearful peasants attempting to limp away. The song of the hunt thrummed within all their veins tonight. She could tell her master felt it too though his yearning was of a different kind.

"Show them the same hospitality they have shown."

Not pausing to give the yells that followed a backwards glance Dracula moved on to where his heart already was with.

--

Spike couldn't stop shaking, everything felt so bloody cold. Everything ached, muscles twitched unable to still from the after effects of the abuse they had suffered. For a blessed moment he had no idea where he was, no memory of how he came to such a state. Then his eyes opened to find the familiar colors of the flowers across the room. Though the image was blurred he knew what it was--what it represented. A pretty treat to get the whore to lie down with his latest "lover."

A false sentiment like all the other signs he had misread or been touched by. Was he ever valued? Spike was beginning to wonder if the look of respect he had seen in Buffys' eyes had been false. Had she really seen the "dead thing" she had lowered herself with as a champion? Had Angel spoke to him about his failings, about pains he never voiced to the others like losing Cordelia, his son and friends?

He could almost believe it was all fake, that they had ended up using him, hurting him to make themselves feel better. Wasn't that how it always was? No, a girl had told him once that...what was it? He was worth saving? She hadn't hurt him...

"Hush, you are safe now."

A soft feather like kiss punctuated these words instantly made Spike cringe. "Not...not a rent boy..."

He caught the furious glare of Draculas' eyes and flinched preparing for more hits. That look was one he was familiar with. Disgust.

"There is nothing good or clean in you!"

"No, you are not. If only I could have prolonged that fools' agony further for such a thing!" The darker vampire cupped Spikes' face tenderly though his gaze was intense. So intense that the smaller man shuddered. "You will recover, this I vow. You must feed first to regain your strength."

A tray that Spike hadn't noticed was pulled closer to the bed. Several goblets were lined up on it causing his stomach growl. Yet Spike couldn't bear to look at it for long. He was a dirty murdering creature, he deserved to be like this. Broken like one of Drus’ dolls unable to pull the pieces back together once they shattered into a hundred shards scattered across the room. Only to be crushed underneath the next persons’ heel.

"Drink!" It was half an order and half a plea that seemed foreign on Draculas’ tongue.

"No...can't..." He paused to stare at the man sitting next to him. This--this didn't make any sodding sense. "Why do--do you care?"

Dracula sighed in annoyance regaining the appearance Spike was more comfortable with. Why did he feel more at ease with being someones' enemy than being their desired? Well, no one ever accused him of being overly sensible. "How can you being so knowing and yet so incredibly dense, William?"

There was movement that Spike could not see from his position but caught the conflicted look on the other mans' face. He didn't have long to ponder this as a finger was placed on his lips. At first he thought it was to silence him. The wet, sticky substance told him otherwise. Spikes' body trembled at the scent unable to fight his demon in his weaken state. His mind was too slow to catch up by the time he opened his mouth to involuntary suck on the blood covered digit. Human blood.

Moaning he released the finger to lick his lips while fireworks seemed to go off through his system. Only thing that was better than human blood was sex--which was usually why they went hand in hand with their kind. No, Spike couldn't have more. It had taken him long enough to go through withdrawn last time. The offered goblet was rejected with a wobby shake of his head that left him dizzy with the effort.

"Damn that soul! You need to heal ! Human blood is the best means to do this!" Dracula said petting the side of Spike neck in an attempt to encourage more feeding. The gentle touch had brushed a sensitive spot that caused Spike to moan helplessly. The lip of the goblet was instantly pressed against his mouth spilling droplets onto his dried lips. It was an undeniable force that had finally broke Spikes' will power. He greedily drained the cup savoring the rich flavor in a feverous haze.

"Bastard." Spike whizzed.

"Condemn me all you like, Spike. I do not care. It is not what is important, it is meaningless much like your protest. That soul of yours may like to deny what you are. I may even accept it though I do not understand it's foolishness. I will not however permit you to obey its' commands now." Another cup was placed in front of him and Spike couldn't stop himself in his weaken state from drinking more.

The screams of the slain grew louder with each drop making the trembling that much worse. He wasn't certain if it was in fact the bloods' fault as he tended to have these episodes after torture session with the soul. How could Angel endure as long as he did without cracking? It had to have been impossible. Instead of admiring the other vampire Spike felt a strong sense of loathing towards him. Towards the Count for force feeding him but mostly aimed at himself. They were all such vile creatures unfit to live among the innocents they slaughtered. Was this how Buffy saw him?

The dark lord didn't appear to be pleased at the progress if his frown was any indication. It wasn't until his hands wiped at Spikes' cheek that the younger man realized that he was crying. He couldn't help it though, everything around him was crashing down and the walls he had so carefully set up to protect himself were impossible to maintain

He was a right prat who couldn’t even hid in front of his arch-enemy. Worse yet he didn’t even care what the Count thought of him.