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.

In the moonlight Draculas’ pale face appeared grayish, an almost sickly color. To the human eye his long nails became talons, his cloak blending into the shadows of the night. Threatening, inhuman to all who were foolish to oppose him, a vicious guardian to those he protected. That was how Ilie saw the events of that night and would retell to his tribe at their campfire.

His Master had taken on many foes at once while his remaining men had fought the others. A four armed monster had started the battle using all his long nails like small swords to strike out at the Count. The sight seemed to almost entertain the vampire as he flawlessly danced around his foe striking out with just his hands into the others’ side. Though the move inflicted little damage it did not break his confidence in the slightest. It did cause the creature to snarl harshly and lash out more violently though Illie suspected it had more to do to the Counts’ scorn than actual pain.

The vampire had dodged the blades coming in close to an opponent that tried to come at him from behind. With perfect timing he vanished into mist leaving the villains to impale each other instead. Removing one of the swords from his fallen foes’ limp grip Dracula manage to raise it in time to block the blows of a fellow vampire. The swordplay did not last long though as his Masters’ skill won out. With contempt in his eyes he sneered down at the little challenge he was offered and severed the head neatly from the neck. He turned to engage with the others not interested enough to watch the vampire turn to dust.

Dracula exchanged blows with two swords at once that held more promise than his previous nemesis had. All through it the Count’s expression never wavered, proud and determined. Ilie had been frightened when a furious movement of the two fighting as one at pushed the legendary vampire back. A swipe of one blade cutting into his right arm made him feel faint but still his Master pressed on.

The other two rushed to aid their allies on threatening to overwhelm the lord. He used their overconfidence against them feigning recoiling. When one lifted his arms up for the kill shot Dracula sliced his belly, using the shock of his friend as his opening to snap his neck. Yanking out an arrow from the shoulder of one of his dead guards he advanced on the last two battling a frightened human and ignoring the other vampire. The demon took offense to this and rushed to him but his elder merely kicked him to the side.

The human while talented with a sword could not keep up with the ruthless pace that Dracula set. After being disarmed he had barely noted his defeat before his throat was ripped into by two sharp fangs. At this point the dismissed vampire had returned with a greater fury Dracula kept feeding only lifting his free arm in the last moment to drive the arrow through the heart of the other.

There was chaos afterwards, dealing with the bodies of the dead, moving the captive gypsies into the dungeons and taking care of the injured. The only one of the enemies that Ilie saw alive after the battle had been the same cocky leader of the group. Even though his allies were dead and he was captured something smug remained on his face.

”For all your claims of power and improvement that your master brings you it seems like they do not hold much weight when tested.” Dracula drawled.

”You are even denser than lord Mihai believed possible. Mark my words, your arrogance will be your downfall.” Raising his chin up he glared at the Count. ”Do you honestly think that he would waste his men on a fruitless battle like this? You fool! You have already lost but you are too blind to see it!”

”Master, some of the prisoners are missing!” One of the guards cried out in dismay.

”A diversion.” Dracula whispered more to himself than the others present.

”It begins.” The leader nodded in confirmation. A second later he snatched handle of broken ax plunging it into his own chest. ”Long Live Mihai!”

They watched in stunned horror as the vampire smiled in satisfaction as his body exploded into a cloud of dust. The guards eyes focused on their lord waiting to guide them in their hour of need. Dracula did not disappoint as he swiftly became business like ordering his men to different parts of his castle.

”Take search parties out and cover the area. Leave nothing unchecked. Gregory, take those you deem worthy enough to protect the household. No one is to enter without my permission.”

“…which now that I think about it wasn’t the best of ideas. Still how was I to know that Dru wanted to sing with Yoko? For all I knew she was peckish, you know? Let me tell you this mate, banshees and other beasties of the night would scamper off at that racked.”

Glancing over his shoulder Spike saw the boy smile. It was so infectious that he found himself returning it before he went back to work. Always being a social creature Spike had found it much easier to get his chores done while conversing with the child. Though it was heavily edited he enjoyed telling tales of the good old days. The saner moments of Drusilla, meeting famous people, and traveling type of stories.

The youth would look on with awe eager for more information about his journeys. His face giving away his interest more than any voice could express. It was bittersweet for Spike to be reminded of his times with Dawn in his crypt where he weaved elaborate tales while she pretended not to be afraid. He missed his little bit fiercely but he could never gather the courage to face her after—

You sleep right?

Spike figured he had about as much right to face Dawn as he did to ask Buffy to start a relationship after it happened. If either of the young women wanted things to change with him then they would have to make the first move. Dawn did seem to want to patch things up at times but the results were always the same. She would hold his gaze for a moment hope lighting her face until something crumbled in her expression and she left him alone.

Just like big sis, Spike thought gloomily.

The inquisitiveness of Fred had kept Spike from being entirely bored while he was a ghost. Though she would catch on a lot faster than Dawn did when he was telling a fib. She would also talk about her life in Pylea and surprisingly how much they had in common in that period. Both crazy in caves, both treated as cattle by other creatures (her demons/him humans) and their little shock devices used to keep them in line.

Needless to say she wasn’t too fond of the Initiative something that caused a slightly tipsy Fred to make some rather entertaining phone calls. Spike only regretted that he couldn’t see Riley Finns’ face (or the Misses) when Fred told him how wrong it was to “put fake woody into a helpless vampees t’ make ya’all feel manly.” God he missed her too.

Connor liked to listen as well though never to the degree the girls did. He mainly wanted to hear about his mom and any funny stories claiming that he already lived enough of the bad. The kid teased him more than Spike was use to but it was all in fun. (He wasn’t a name dropper though just told things like they were.)

Speaking to this mute boy had taken Spikes’ mind off his troubles and for that he was grateful. He was helpful in other ways as the child had motioned to the correct manner to contain certain horses and located the needed tools. The company was what Spike appreciated the most though. Even though he had only been in Romania less than a day it felt like it had been ages since he had connected with someone. Not since before the incident had happened.

“Peter, what do you think you are doing?” A shrill voice cried out.

Spike winced, not just at the way the tone had hurt his ears but how he had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t heard anyone approaching. A flustered looking Madam Drake stood surrounded by Hans, Jon and several guards. The boy, Peter he presumed, slid off the fence he had been watching from to join the group. He had barely reached them when the woman pulled him in close for a tight embrace.

“Good lord…are you hurt? Did he do anything to you Peter?”

Peter shook his head appearing quite embarrassed at the scene she was making. Heedless of this she quickly checked out his neck for herself before glaring at the vampire.

“It is a very good thing that you didn’t hurt him, vampire.”

Spike was about to make a remark about them letting a kid carelessly wander about when he caught Peters’ pleading look. The poor boy didn’t seem to like all the attention he was getting. Noting it Spike tactfully changed course to a subject far more relevant to their current situation.

“Did the great git miss me?” Spike smirked. “And we haven’t even been parted for long.”

A shove to the side slammed him into the ground followed by a sharp kick. Just when he was about to pull himself up to retaliate Madam Drake cried out.

“No! We do not have time for this nonsense! We must go inside immediately!”

She held onto Peter firmly motioning for the others to hurry up. Hans and Jon yanked Spike along as they followed leaving Spike to struggle to stay upright so he wasn’t dragged. All too soon their talk changed from English to Romanian in an attempt to keep Spike out of the loop. He strained to understand it, picking up some of the speech but missing the meaning of others. Piecing together the bits he knew Spike gathered that a fight was happening outside and that his guide was worried about her son, Peter.

Not that Spike needed to translate to be able to guess the last bit. It seemed pretty obvious by the way the woman doted on the boy that they were very close. The scent of her fear had barely lessened with the presence of the guard. Her pointed looks made it easy to figure out who she was worried about at the moment though.

The guards whispered of some bloke Spike had never heard of needing to be kept away from “the English one” and had to wonder at that. He stored that information away for a later date. They rose though several stairways up so many levels that he knew without a doubt that they had to be near the top of the castle.

Why are they taking me up instead of going to the bleeding dungeons? He frowned at the thought. Maybe there were towers that he would be locked away into? That idea didn’t make much sense to him either. It would not give proper security, not if they were anything like the other towers he had been in.

Madam Drake suddenly raised her hand up to halt the group in the middle of a long corridor. Standing between the boy and Spike she reached into her pocket to withdrawn a set of keys. Spike had no idea how anyone could recall which key was used for what purpose. There had to be hundreds of keys yet Madam Drake easily picked out the one she needed and unlocked the door,

“This will be your new chambers where you will stay until you are called for your duties.”

Poking his head to the side Spike was able to get a better look at the room. Still confused at the way his enslavement was being treated he cocked his head to the side to regard the woman.

“Are...you can’t be serious…I’m staying here? What happened to the bars, cold basements and all that rot?”

“Would you rather stay somewhere else that would better fit your…,”her mouth curled nastily as she added, “status?”

With the combined effort of the two dim vampires Spike was thrown bodily into the room. Snarling he rushed back towards the doorway only to be forced back by some unseen force. Startled he pushed futilely against the invisible barrier.

“However we have made preparations for you. As you can see the bracelets you are wearing make it impossible to leave this room…which I confess I did not expect.” Madam Drake did seem puzzled by the reaction as she herself could not get her hand pass the unseen wall. One of the grunts either Hans or Jon (the tall one) had managed to pass the threshold to push Spike backwards much to her dismay.

“Different spells have been placed all over the estate that works in other manners. I am not a witch so I have no idea what they do other than keep you in your place. The Master has had these spells placed by gypsies. From my experience all of their magic has always worked wonderfully in the past.”

Spike snorted. From his experience the gypsies had no idea how to make a decent curse last, instead they put on dangerous idiotic causes. Even all their knowledge hadn’t kept Darla, Drusilla and him from killing them in revenge. No magic was without risks anyway, not that he would tell her that. He could always test it later.

“You will be called for tomorrow, for now you may rest. Good night.”

Spike wanted to make a cutting remark but in light of the sad face Peter was making as he waved goodbye all he could do was wave back. The door closed and locked leaving him alone again. He had to admit it was a huge step up from his other imprisonment and even a few of his dwellings. The Hyperion Hotel had a cozy feeling to it that touched his soul. Maybe it had to do with the way Fred went on about it during his ghost days. Or the smile it brought to the others when it was mentioned. It was a far cry from the Sunnydale days of basements, bathrooms and crypts for sure.

It was nice having an apartment with his own space above ground. Still it wasn’t anywhere as spacious as this room. The designs were richer, with lush materials draping it and expensive furniture.

“Bloody hell I’m in sodding Slytherin.” Spike remarked taking in the dark green and silver color scheme.

Thick carpets under his feet, heavy curtains covering the windows and comfortable bedding on the four poster bed were so familiar it was almost surreal. A set of dark wood table and chairs, a couple of bookcases and even a fireplace just like what he had unsouled. The type of room Drusilla and he would cuddle up in whenever they came upon a well to do victim. It shamed the soul almost as much as it comforted it. Sure the bedroom was overdone but the romantic in him liked the memories of snuggling with a lover under the covers in this kind of room. He hadn’t done so since…

With a sigh Spike knew where his mind was headed, where he had been trying to avoid ever since they had been separate. On Angel. Things had never been the same since their little secret happened. They hardly spoke to each other anymore without trying to beat one another into a blood pulp. Angel made it all to clear that he never wanted to mention what had occurred but Spike couldn’t help thinking about it. At night when he was alone (because he was always alone now) he would recall what it was like. The sharing, the sensations both physical and emotional unlike anything he had felt before.

Some times he thought he had dreamed the whole thing up and believed it wholeheartedly. How could Angel have treated him so well? Simple he hadn’t, it was just a dream. Other times it was painfully familiar so much so that it felt like his chest was emptied by the repeated damage that was inflicted on it. Various pulls, yanks and stabs that he knew logically shouldn’t affect an unbeating heart. He felt them all the same.

Spike knew that he should hate him but he could not help worrying about the other vampire. The others had barely managed to carry Angels’ beaten form away before Spike was recaptured. Were they all alright?