TITLE: Body and Soul - The Curse - Chapter 5
AUTHOR: Lysia
EMAIL: cricket818uk@wadnitt.fsnet.co.uk
FEEDBACK: Very much appreciated. Praise is encouraging, constructive
criticism is used to improve.
RATING: 12, for violence.
WARNING: Violence, angst. And possibly language. Light S/A comfort-
type romance.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of them, but I'll give them back to Joss
when I've finished with them.
SPOILERS: Set sometime after 'Forever'.
ARCHIVING: Here. Anywhere else, just ask.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Guide to characters from FFL - Henry Carver is the
bloke who read the poem out at the party; Charles Hamilton is the
other man at the party; Katharine Millington-Parks is the woman with
the funny hair-do who was with them.

Chapter 5

Spike sat there on the sofa, dazed and clutching Xander's cup of tea
which he had been allowed to have after being told who he was. He
wasn't sure whether to be in shock or dismiss what he had just heard
as complete rubbish.

"Vampire," Spike murmured, pressing two fingers to a pulseless wrist.
He laughed humourlessly. "Vampire! You have to be joking." His grip
tightened around his wrist as he found no sign of life. His eyes
widened and he clapped the hand to his chest, looking desperately for
a heartbeat. "Oh God," he exclaimed, his voice taking on a higher
pitch. "It's true!"

"That's correct," Giles told him quietly, feeling terrible for having
to tell Spike all this. "Are you alright?"

Spike nodded, still trembling, and handed Giles the nearly-empty mug
of tea. "Could you get me something a little stronger, please?" he
asked nervously.

Giles paused for a moment, wondering whether he wanted Spike to be
sharing his drink now, but quickly reminded himself that this shocked
and terrified man was not Spike. He headed for the kitchen, fetching
a glass of Scotch, and another for himself. He really didn't know
what he was going to do when Spike started remembering the things he
had done.

"You doing really well," Xander told Spike, patting the vampire on
the back gently so as not to startle him. "The whole 'vampire' thing
must have been hard to cope with."

Spike glanced at him, an amused smile on his face. "You know, you
speak in the most bizarre fashion."

Xander laughed, somehow proud he had the ability to cheer up even
someone in the most horrifying situation. "That I do," he agreed with
a grin. "You're in twenty-first century USA now, my friend. Things
are gonna take a bit of getting used to."

"But I've never been away from London before!" Spike exclaimed,
dismayed. "I don't know anyone here. Everything's so strange."

"I think," Giles explained to him, sitting down beside him, "that
should be the least of your concerns for the time being." He handed
Spike a glass of Scotch and took a sip from his own.

Spike downed the entire glassful immediately, then coughed and
wheezed until he had got over the shock of the taste. "Good God, that
was disgusting!" he gagged, shuddering.

"You're not supposed to drink it all in one go," Giles sighed.

"I'll have another," Spike requested, handing Giles the empty glass.

"No you won't," Giles told him firmly. "Now listen to me - we haven't
got much time. This is important." Spike turned and faced him,
appearing rather worried. Giles took a deep breath. "You see, for the
past century or so a demon has taken control of you and done...
terrible things. Now your soul has been restored, but in a few
minutes you'll remember everything you did and it... it won't be
pleasant. We thought you should be warned."

Spike's face creased in he stared at Giles in disbelief. "What
things?" he demanded.

Giles shivered. He really didn't want to tell Spike this. "Murder,
torture, all sorts of things."

Spike was silent for a moment, his hands wringing. "B-but I don't
want those memories," he protested. "Why would someone make me
remember that? Make it stop! I don't want to know! Why has someone
rescued me from such an awful existence only to ..." He curled up
again, keening softly.

"You haven't been rescued!" Giles explained sadly. "It's a curse.
Someone's done this to make you pay for your crimes, to make you feel
the guilt."

"But I haven't done anything!" Spike wailed. "I could never take
another life! It wasn't me! It was some evil creature that took my
place! I didn't do those things!"

Xander stared at the carpet, recalling the number of arguments they'd
had with Buffy regarding Angel's responsibility for what Angelus had
done while he was free. "There's a lot of debate over that," he
muttered. Upon Spike's puzzled glance he ventured forth and
explained. "You're not the only vampire we know with a soul. There's
this other guy - Angel - he's your Sire; the one who made you a
vampire."

Spike nibbled his lower lip in thought. "Yes... there was a man and
two women who um... attacked me. One girl bit me. The man with them -
is he the one of whom you speak?"

Xander gave Spike a thumbs-up. "That must be the guy - got it in one."

"He's been cursed also?" Spike asked curiously. "How does he react to
the... memories?"

Xander grinned, hoping he could give Spike a little advice. "He's
become an evil-fighter, protecting the innocent and battling demons.
Maybe you could do something like that. It'll probably make you feel
like you're making amends."

Spike sighed, still distraught. "I don't want to know about my
crimes," he mumbled. "I don't want to be in this place. I want to be
back at home with my family." He wiped a tear from his cheek and
tried to grasp the situation. This had to be some horrid nightmare.

"I'm sorry," Giles told him. "We just thought you might want to know
what was going to happen so it wouldn't be too much of a shock."

Spike nodded sadly, clearly scared of what terrible things he was
going to remember doing. "If you don't mind I'd like to wash my face.
I feel a dreadful mess."

"That's perfectly alright," Giles agreed, helping the rather shaky
vampire to his feet. "The bathroom's the door next to the kitchen.
Would you like me to hang your coat up?"

Spike nodded and Giles took his coat and hung it on the peg. It was
terrible seeing him afraid. Giles knew without a doubt that this man
was not the vampire they had known. He was a stranger, lost in a
foreign country in a confusing futuristic world.

"Thank you," Spike muttered, tugging at the stretchy fabric of his t-
shirt, puzzled, before heading for the bathroom. A ring on the
doorbell startled him and he looked around, wide-eyed. "What's that
noise?"

"It's just someone at the door," Giles explained, going to answer it.

"Probably Buffy," Xander guessed, noting Spike's puzzled glance.

"Buffy?" the curious vampire asked hesitantly. "Who's Buffy?"

Xander suppressed a snicker. "Well only the love of your unlife."

Spike's hopeful smile lit up his face. "So she's my... my sweetheart?"

"You wish!" Xander exclaimed, wishing he could bite back his words
when he saw Spike's disappointment. He kept forgetting that this
wasn't Spike's usual self. "Um... no, Buffy's kinda not interested."

Spike nodded, comprehending. "I see," he muttered. "Well that would
go without saying, wouldn't it?"

"Because you were evil," Xander explained.

"No - because ladies are never interested in me," Spike replied
sullenly, staring at the floor and shuffling his feet.

"Jeez, confidence problems much?" Xander mumbled as Giles let Buffy
into the flat.

"Okay," Buffy sighed, short of breath after rushing. "How's the newly-
souled vampire?"

"Still with no memory," Giles explained quickly, stepping back and
closing the door behind Buffy. "We've told him the truth about who he
is and what's been happening, but his knowledge of those past events
is yet to return."

Buffy looked at the pale and clearly distressed vampire standing in
the lounge. His head was bowed, his shoulders hunched and he was
chewing his nail polish off. "Spike?" she asked tentatively.

Spike looked up. He had learnt by now that he was now called 'Spike'.
He wasn't sure why and he certainly didn't want to know, but that was
his name. "Um... Buffy?"

Buffy felt a twinge of sympathy. Spike was definitely suffering. Not
only were his eyes red and swollen from crying, bit he had apparently
been involved in a fight of some sort. He had several nasty gashes on
his forehead; his clothes and hair were soaked, turning his usually-
platinum locks a dark honey colour. She frowned, wondering why he had
got soaked. Spike just stared at her, frightened and backing away.
She hadn't expected this. Angel was never this bad upon the return of
his soul. She didn't know what to say.

"I'm just..." Spike blurted out before heading for the bathroom to wipe
his face.

Buffy and Giles walked over to the sofa and sat down, dazed. "How is
he?" Buffy asked quietly.

"After an initial outbreak of violence he seems to have calmed down,"
Giles replied. "My only concern now is how he's going to cope with
the memories of killing. When we told him about his demonic past he
was very insistent that he could never take a life."

Buffy was surprised. She could never have imagined Spike being
peaceful. "Wow," she muttered. "Who'd have thought it? Spike's a
closet pacifist."

"Kinda hard to believe that that's Spike," Xander agreed. "When I
think of the bleached freak who tried to kill us I reckon he deserves
to be all terrified, but then that guy doesn't deserve that at all. I
just don't know what to think about all this."

~~~~~~~~~~

Spike slowly filled the sink with water, surprised to find that the
water in the taps was hot. He scooped the water in his hands, wincing
at the unexpected heat, and rinsed his face. His head stung when his
fingers brushed over his forehead and when he took his hands away
they were bloody. He stared at the crimson streaks on his fingers,
fighting the sudden urge to taste.

Vampire, a little voice in his head murmured repeatedly.

Very hesitantly he licked at the blood, shuddering at the unpleasant
taste but gasping at the powerful sensation as it gave him life. It
was a strangely nice feeling, but Spike didn't want blood to be the
cause of it.

Sobbing, he splashed his hands back into the water. He didn't want to
be craving blood and he most certainly didn't want to enjoy drinking
it. He was utterly disgusted with himself. He pressed a wet flannel
to his head and soaked up the blood there before searching the
cabinet under the sink for a bandage. He found a bright green box
labelled 'First aid kit' and snapped it open. Frantic, he removed a
bandage and stood up to look in the mirror so he could fasten the
long strip of cloth around his head.

The mirror reflected only the wall behind him. Spike froze, bandage
half-unwrapped in one hand, and stared at the mocking looking glass.

It was then that his vision blurred and horrific images began to form
in his mind. There was a sudden painful flash that sent him reeling
as his murderous past played in his head - he killed countless men,
women and children; he sank his fangs into someone's throat while a
scream of pain and terror rang in his ears; he crucified his poor
dear Cecily; he brought his vampire 'family' gifts of human entrails
for birthdays; he stalked and threatened Buffy...

Spike's anguished scream alerted Buffy, Xander and Giles to the fact
that Spike's time of amnesia was over. The three of them raced into
the bathroom to find the vampire on the floor, convulsing wildly as
if trying to fight something. Buffy immediately dropped to her knees
beside him to prevent him from hitting the walls and injuring
himself, but the more she tried to hold him still the more he
struggled.

"Stop it!" Spike was yelling. "Oh please, make it stop! This can't
be... Please, no!"

"Oh God, he's having a seizure!" Buffy shrieked, Spike's ferocious
growling frightening her. "Giles... I need something to calm him down!
Have you still got that um... you know... tranquiliser gun for when we
used to watch Oz?"

"Yes - it's in the weapons store under the stairs," Giles replied
quickly.

Buffy got to her feet and dashed out. "Right. Hold Spike still -
don't let him hurt himself."

Xander took Buffy's place, pinning Spike's flailing arms to the floor
so he couldn't thrash too much.

"Put a rag in his mouth so he doesn't bite his tongue," Giles urged
him, grabbing the flannel from the sink. Xander slid the flannel
between Spike's bared fangs, wincing as he realised he had been a
little too late and Spike had already cut his tongue on his razor-
sharp teeth.

"Stand back!" Buffy yelled, returning with the rifle, loading a dart.
Xander moved away from the writhing vampire and Buffy took aim,
pulling the trigger and firing the dart into Spike's chest. Spike
howled in pain, making the trio flinch and cover their ears, then he
lay still, whimpering quietly.

"Sorry Spike," Buffy sighed, picking the unconscious vampire up and
carrying his surprisingly light body through to the lounge. "Couldn't
have you hurting yourself though." She laid him down on the sofa and
removed his boots, making a face when she saw the deep knife wounds
going straight through his feet. Someone clearly had it in for the
poor bleached vamp.

"What should we do now?" Xander asked, cringing as Spike sobbed
helplessly in his slumber.

Buffy shrugged and just watched the sleeping vampire. "There's
nothing we can do until he wakes up," she replied. "Perhaps we should
research the guys who did this to him. They must have a reason for
cursing Spike of all vamps."

"We're looking into it," Giles replied. "He gave us more names when
we found him and, to be honest, I am concerned. If these vampires are
as strong as he said they were..."

"It's panic time," Buffy agreed, nodding. She was just as concerned
as Giles was. "I know Spike can hold his own in a fight, so whoever
did this to him must be tough. Personally, I would not like to come
across them without a strategy. Find out what you can."

"Anya's working late at the magic shop," Xander informed them. "We
could get her to look up stuff if she's not busy... counting the money.
And Willow and Tara are going to stop by there after college so we
could get the whole team on it."

"Good idea," Giles replied. "We'll head over there now and find out
what we can about these vampires. And um... Buffy... what shall we do
with..."

Buffy looked at Spike, who was now merely twitching in his sleep,
calmer but by no means perfectly peaceful. "I'll look over him 'til
he wakes up. I don't think he'll want to be alone."

"Alright," Giles agreed, "but be careful. He still might become
violent in some fit of fear or temper."

"I know," Buffy replied, watching Spike hide his face behind his arm
and shiver. "I can handle him. You guys go and find out about these
vampires."

"Okay," Xander said. "We'll call if we find anything."

"Yes," Giles added, "and if Spike wakes up and stays... calm then feel
free to bring him to the Magic Box. I expect he'll want to know about
these vampires as soon as possible."

Buffy waved as Giles and Xander left, then turned her attentions back
on Spike, who was now clenching his fists tight enough to draw blood
from his palms.

"Shush! Don't do that!" she urged him, pulling his hands out
straight. Spike just whimpered and mumbled something about being
innocent and not wanting to die.

As she watched him she thought back to what she had said to him when
he mentioned Angel as a reason for how she could learn to love
him. "Angel had a soul." She worried for a moment that maybe Spike
had brought this on himself, but dismissed the idea for the time
being. At present, Spike needed her help, not her accusations.

~~~~~~~~~~

Spike stirred, groggy and disturbed from his nightmares. He was
worried for a moment that maybe Carver and his lot had kidnapped him
again, but he found himself lying on a sofa - far too comfortable
place to keep a hostage. Spike would know.

He shuddered, trying not to think about it. Oh God, all the people
he'd help captive! All the people he'd hurt! All the people he'd
killed...

Screwing his eyes shut, Spike hissed in frustration. The memories had
returned and he just couldn't get the thoughts out of his head. How
could he have done such things? Slowly, he sat up and swung his legs
over the edge of the sofa, sitting there and cradling his head in his
hands for a moment, waiting for the horrifying images in his mind to
go away.

When they didn't he gave up and opened his eyes to look around.

He was surprised to see Buffy sitting on the chair nearby, watching
him silently. "Buffy?" he murmured, eyeing her questioningly.

"I stayed to look after you," the Slayer explained. "Check that you
were okay."

Spike nodded blankly, wringing his hands. He just couldn't get those
memories out of his head. "Yeah, well apart from a nice wad of guilt
I'm just bloody peachy."

Buffy sat beside him, watching him... well she wanted to say brood but
that would be too mild a term. This wasn't like when Angel got an
attack of guilt. Spike looked positively horrified; his eyes wide
with panic; his breathing harsh as he fought the anguish and pain.

"I take it you know what's happened?" she asked him, keeping her
voice low so as not to startle him.

Spike nodded, a hysterical grin appearing on his face. "Yeah," he
smirked, unable to believe his misfortune. He sat back, looking up at
the ceiling and onwards up to the heavens, congratulating whatever
deity abided up there for their wonderful sense of humour. He
laughed. "I got myself a soul." Gradually the laughter faded, the
grin vanished and he hastily wiped his eyes on the back of his
hand. "Oh bloody hell, this is just horrible."

Feeling sorry for him and desperately wanting to comfort him, Buffy
reached out and laid a hand gently on his heaving back. She could
feel the shuddering but silent sobs that wracked him. "Spike, don't
worry. It'll be..."

"Don't touch me!" Spike yelled, smacking her hand away and leaping
off the sofa. He stood trembling, his back pressed to the wall, left
hand clutching his head after receiving another jolt from the chip.
He calmed himself, cringing at his display. "Sorry. I just... I'm a tad
jittery. Not exactly with it - know what I'm saying?"

Buffy nodded. "Fine. Sure. I mean, I'm not expecting you to be all
happiness and smiles. I know what you're going through can't be..."

"Slayer, shut up," Spike sighed. "Look... where are the rest of your
little troop?"

"At the Magic Box," Buffy explained, a little puzzled. "They're
taking a look through all the books on vampires they have there.
Giles owns, like, a thousand. They left a couple of hours ago."

Spike stared back at her in a manner that brought to Buffy's mind a
startled rabbit caught in the headlights of a car. "C-could we go
there?" Spike asked. "I just... I want to get away from here."

Buffy shrugged, still confused but not wanting to nag at Spike for
reasons for his behaviour. He must be traumatised, but she couldn't
help comparing him to Angel, who had never been like this. "Okay, I
guess. I'll call Giles and let the gang know we're heading over."

Spike nodded shakily and stepped back so Buffy could get to the
phone. He looked around for his long leather jacket as Buffy
contacted Giles.

"Hello, Giles?" Buffy greeted. "Hey. Um... thought you should know
Spike's woken up... Yeah, he's a bit shaken and not too happy... Look, he
wants to come over to the Magic Box, so you can expect us there in a
while... I don't know - he just didn't want to stay here, so we'll be
joining you... Oh, you've found something already? Okay, I'm looking
forward to hearing this. See ya."

When Buffy hung up Spike was just putting on his still-rather
drenched coat, recoiling at the coldness. Sighing, he gave up and
flung it on the floor. "That'll take for bloody ever to dry," he
snarled, kicking it in frustration. "Are we off then?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied, puzzled by Spike's behaviour. He didn't seem
that different to the way he had been before. Still aggressive,
unsociable and peppering his sentences with even more 'bloodies' than
usual. "We're going. Looks like Giles has found some stuff on your
vamp gang. Should have quite a little stack of info by the time we
get there."

Spike just looked back at her blankly. "Right, let's piss off then."

He headed for the door, waiting beside it and swaying from foot to
foot as Buffy unlocked it.

"You can borrow one of Giles's coats if you like," Buffy suggested,
glancing at Spike's torn and damp t-shirt. "I'm sure he won't mind,
and it's freezing out there."

"I'm fine," Spike snapped. "I can't get anything nasty. I'm a
vampire. Undead. Walking corpse. I'm a bloody freak of nature."

Buffy didn't even try to argue with his harsh verbal attack on
himself. It was clear Spike didn't want pity or comfort. He was
standing there with his arms folded across his chest and a vicious
scowl on his face, his body language just screaming at her to leave
him alone. However, she wasn't going to let him go out in wet clothes
to freeze. She grabbed Giles's spare jacket from the peg and shoved
it towards Spike.

"Put that on," she insisted. "It's cold out and you're still all
soggy."

With an irritated sigh, Spike shrugged the jacket on and the two of
them stalked out of the house, Spike walking ahead and Buffy watching
him with concern from a few paces behind. She wondered why he was
behaving so differently to Angel.

~TBC~