12. Demon's Pain

Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing them. I'll put 'em back when I'm done.

Summary: More words and a surprising confrontation.

Reviews: Oh yes please. Love reviews, adore reviews. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: This chapter was hard to write as there are implications of extreme torture. I didn't want to get too graphic yet but we'll be getting there soon. More of what happened to Spike is coming out. Response to this fic is amazing and I'm thrilled about it. I know this one is a little shorter than the others but it was a good place to stop so....

WayWard Childe, you completely and totally ROCK! Thank you so much for putting up with my rampant insecurity over this chapter. Thanks for the assist!

Upstairs...

Buffy shook the white plastic monitor again and glared at it as if that would clarify what she was hearing. "Why did he say 'safe'? And who's Insaneo Vamp taking about when she said 'she'?" She put the monitor down on the coffee table and directed a glare toward her watcher. "Giles, do you know what's going on down there? If you don't, I'm going and getting Mom out of there."

Giles pulled his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. It was turning into a torturously long day. He gave a mental snort at his terminology. "I have an idea." He said with a sigh. "Now, please, do be quiet. If you will insist on eavesdropping, then at least have the decency to do it in silence."

Michael ducked his head in a vain attempt to hide the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He knew the blonde wasn't but a year or two younger than he was but she seemed so much less mature. He sobered a bit at the thought that what he'd been through would make anyone feel old. He was just happy he hadn't been chosen for any of Maggie Walsh's 'special projects'. He didn't like the physical and mental changes that had affected some of the soldiers who had. But they didn't seem to notice the differences in their own bodies. He shuddered and tuned back in to the conversation issuing from the small speaker.

Giles noticed the shudder that ran through the young man's slender frame. He was struck by the physical resemblance between Michael and Spike at his best. Covertly, he studied the soldier; once again taking note of the high cheekbones, slight frame and blue eyes, although Mike's eyes were not as bright a blue as Spike's. The human's being more grayish in color. Michael's hair was darker than Spike's and not as curly as Giles knew the vampire's to be when not tamed by the bleach and gel. But he could see why Drusilla had chosen not to kill this unique man. He blinked when Mike looked at him with a startlingly Spike-like smirk and inclined his head toward the monitor. Feeling heat in his face, the Watcher turned back to the drama being played out below their feet.

In the basement....

Drusilla beamed at her Childe. "Now, Pet. I need you to look at Mummy's Kitten. How does he make you feel?" She stroked Spike's pale cheek with a gentle finger.

The demon blinked before looking up at Dru in confusion. 'Kitten?' He hadn't seen a kitten anywhere. His now-blue eyes scanned the basement floor looking for the feline in question.

A rich laugh bubbled out of Sire's throat. "No, Darling." She pointed toward the dark haired human holding on to the safe female.

A snarl rumbled in Spike's chest. Hearing it, Xander eased Joyce away from his shoulder and pushed her slightly behind him. Seeing the anger on the male human's face, the demon froze. Irrational fear flooded the gaunt body. The human looked like a punisher. Sire had said no humans would be allowed to punish him any longer so why was there one of them there? Panting in terror, Spike failed to realize that no one in the room smelled like anyone from that place.

Dru sensed the sudden rise in her Childe's fear. "William, why does that human frighten you?" She frowned when he refused to look at her, instead staring at the couple near the stairs. His training was momentarily forgotten in his fear. "Tell me." She commanded.

Spike frowned as he attempted to remember the words he needed to convey his fear. Now, if he could just figure out how to say it. He clenched his fist and beat it slowly against his thigh. A scowl marred his handsome face in his frustration. Her command had succeeded in distracting him from the worst of his fear. He sent an apprehensive glance toward Xander. The human's scowl of anger had given way to an expression of confusion. Belatedly remembering his training, Spike dropped his gaze submissively. The words he needed began tumbling through his mind. "Punisher, pain, chains, holy water, tank, hurts, stop, won't talk, won't think, please, stop, cutting, blood." He didn't realize he was speaking. Although the words were little more than a whisper, they echoed around the basement as if he were shouting. His unnecessary breath panted out faster as he spoke. "Broken, hungry, hurts, wantwantwant." A chant began to build, growing louder in volume. His fist beat harder against his leg, keeping time with the words that continued to pour from his mouth. The chain attached to his wrist clanked with the compulsive movements.

All the humans listening, both upstairs and down, were shocked and horrified by what was being revealed in the litany erupting from Spike. Even Michael, who knew what had taken place, was sickened once again by the treatment the vampire had received.

Spike seemed lost in his memories as the torrent of words continued, repeating the ones he first uttered and adding more, the volume growing as he spoke. "Punisher, tank, whip, beat, break, choke, hurt, blood. Dripping, dripping. Red on white. My blood. Dripping. Hear it. Drip, drip, drip. Electricity, chair, knife, cutting." He yelled as he began pulling at his chains. He backed away from Drusilla, seemingly unaware she was still standing in front of him. A sob from Joyce captured his attention and he whipped around to face her and Xander. "Want, want, want. Safe, safe. Home. Please." He panted the words out as he continued to tug at his bonds. He began to roam the cot, back and forth against the wall, pulling on the chains with incoherent roars of rage and frustration.

Xander pulled Joyce back into his arms and began running his hand up and down her back as she wept onto his shoulder. The male Scooby watched Spike as he stopped suddenly, staring at them through narrowed blue eyes.

"Home, safe, mine, want, need, safe, MINE!" Spike roared the words before he turned away and pulled hard on the chains attaching him to the wall. Growls of fury filled the air as he struggled.

Drusilla raised her hand to place it on his shoulder but dropped it when he flinched from her touch. Anger clouded her lovely features but only for a moment. The furious demon on the cot stopped cold at the appearance of her displeasure. Terror chased the anger from his face and he bolted for the corner. He huddled into the tiny space and folded his arms over his head. "Sorry, sorry. Please. Won't talk, won't think." Panic replaced his rage as he chanted his pleas for no more pain. "Nomorenomorenomore."

Upstairs....

"Nomorenomorenomore." The trio of listeners sat shock still after hearing the level of pain in the chant. The only sounds emanating from the tiny monitor were those of Joyce's sob and Spike's harsh panting. Buffy was the first to recover. She shot an angry glare toward Giles.

"You brought not one but two insane vampires into my house?" Her voice was low and menacing.

Rupert opened his mouth but Mike beat him to it. "He's not insane." The soldier stated coldly. "He's communicating for the first time in almost seven months."

"I don't understand." Buffy crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly.

Mike sighed with exasperation. "Miss Summers, Spike was tortured, trained into not thinking or speaking for more than two months before he gave up and stopped talking. You would not believe the things Walsh and her pet soldiers did to those demons. They didn't deserve it. No sentient creature deserves to be treated like that. She took the greatest of joy in her treatment of Spike because he was so hard to break. He became her pet project, her favorite test subject. The fact that he is speaking now, even almost incoherently, is a testament to his strength."

Buffy frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about, sentient creature? Spike is a monster, a vampire, a merciless killer. He's a soulless evil creature and if your people are taking things like him off the street then maybe it's a good thing." She yelped when Mike moved suddenly and pinned her against the wall behind her. His hands held her shoulders firmly to the wood. She resisted the impulse to use slayer strength to get away. She threw a glance toward Giles and was shocked when he merely raised an eyebrow without speaking. Instead, he just watched curiously to see what would happen next.

Mike's southern accent was thicker with his rage. "A sentient being is defined by the ability to think, speak and reason. You can not tell me that Spike is not a sentient being. I was in his detention block for six months after he got taken. That man meets all three of those requirements as well has having the capacity for emotion." He released Buffy from his grasp and backed up.

She shook herself even though his hold, while firm, had not hurt. She opened her mouth but was interrupted before she got a sound out.

"Do you eat meat?" Mike's abrupt change of subject knocked the Slayer off balance. Giles glanced down to hide his smirk.

"Um, yeah. Sometimes." She stuttered.

"Well, how would you like it if you went to take a bite of a hamburger and you got an electric shock through your brain?" Mike asked conversationally.

"I – ah – guess I wouldn't like that." She admitted reluctantly.

"No, you wouldn't." Mike nodded with satisfaction. "That's what happens to Spike every time he tries to feed. He gets an electric shock to his brain if he tries to hurt a human. His food source."

Buffy grinned. "Well, that's fine then. He can't kill. Go Army." She chirped.

Mike growled, startling his companions with how much like Spike he sounded. He turned to Giles. "Is she always this stupid?" He asked in frustration.

"Hey!" She yelped indignantly.

"Well..." Giles began.

"I'm not stupid. I'm in college which is more than I can say for you!" She shot.

"I graduated with honors two years early and joined the Army to travel." Mike informed her heatedly. "Then I find myself in sunny California hunting demons for an insane, power mad bitch to experiment on. If that wasn't enough, I get rescued by one of those demons and she treats me better than anyone in the Initiative ever did. How's that for crazy?"

Buffy gaped at Mike, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"My boy, I do believe you've managed to stump her." Giles observed with considerable amusement.

"I'm going down there and getting my Mom." The blonde declared. She turned toward the kitchen.

Mike reached out with surprising speed and grasped her arm firmly. She shook him off, or tried to. She gasped when she couldn't dislodge his grip. "Did Drusilla turn you?"

A smile creased his handsome face. He reached up casually and took her silver cross pendant in his hand. She blinked when it failed to harm him. "How?"

"It's called training, Miss Summers. I'm sure you've heard of it." Mike smirked, surprising Buffy again with his likeness to Spike.

"Not that I've seen." Giles muttered, earning a glare from his slayer.

With a firm grip, Mike led Buffy over to the sofa, ignoring her resistance. He shoved her gently down next to the Watcher. "How did he do that?" She hissed at Giles. She glowered when he just shrugged.

"I've had extensive martial arts training. I don't have to be stronger than you to be more powerful." His calm statement confused the blonde.

Giles laughed outright at the outrage on the girl's face.

Mike grinned at the older man before turning back to Buffy. "Now if you're finished being the stereotypical dumb blonde. I must say the color you chose suits you to a T, by the way. You are the one who insisted we listen to Miss Drusilla so I suggest you stay down and shut up."

With a hate filled glare, Buffy turned her attention back to the monitor which was still only transmitting Joyce's muffled sobs and Spike's terrified panting. It was almost as if Drusilla was waiting until the conflict upstairs was finished before continuing with her attempts to recover her Childe.

Giles removed his glasses and cleaned them studiously. "Michael?" He began quietly.

"Yes, Sir?" Mike turned his attention to the Brit.

"What did you major in at college?" The out-of-the-blue question made the soldier smile. Giles checked the lenses for lint and quirked an eyebrow. He was shocked to see a flush rise in the distinctive cheekbones.

Mike ducked his head shyly but answered anyway. "Literature." He answered almost too quietly to hear.

"Amazing." Giles replaced his glasses and went back to watching the monitor. The idea of investigating Mike's ancestry intrigued the Watcher. Despite the obvious differences in upbringing and education, he was willing to bet a rare book that this young man was a descendant of one William the Bloody, which would certainly explain Drusilla's behavior.