Help in Times of Trouble: Storm Warning
by tamzinrose
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he raises his sword again. He pushes in to the fray again. He fights on again. His eyes are rolling wildly. His body is quivering from the effort of standing. His arm slashes forward, the sword becoming an extension of his limb. A demon head drops to his feet.

Spike follows it. He slumps to his knees, exhausted. His head hangs down. He is ashamed. The sword clatters to the street. He has no strength left to carry on.

Angel and Illyria are still upright either side of him. Angel is draining, tiring, but Illyria is still strong and fierce. Illyria smiles down at him. “Rest now.”

Spike grunts. He topples over sideways, falling on to the pavement, sprawling wearily. “Peaches…” He whispers.

“I’m here Spike.” Angel kneels next to him, laying a hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

“The fight...” Spike murmurs, confused.

Angel shakes his head quickly. “Illyria has that covered.”

Spike closes his eyes. “Can you…would you…? Please…?”

“I’m sorry Spike. Truly, I am. I know we didn’t always get along-”

“Shut up.” Spike interrupts. “It doesn’t matter. Just do it.” He jerks away from Angel’s hand. “Blue. Blue, it’s over now. It’s over.”

Illyria wipes away a single tear and looks away from the vampires. Angel draws a stake.

**********************************************************

A storm is raging. Thunder rumbles outside; lightning flashes make him glance round, suspicious. The sound of the rain against the window is rhythmic, almost comforting. The sky is dark, filled with black clouds.

He forces himself to look away. He tears his eyes from the window. He stops watching the rain, the water trailing down the glass. His eyes are wet with tears, but he hardly notices. Just keeps blinking slowly, only half conscious.

“Spike! Are you in there? Spike!” A voice is screaming downstairs. Someone is pounding at the door, desperate. The voice is familiar on some level, but he cannot place it.

“Spike! Let me in! Spike!” It is a woman’s voice. A female voice. A friend, an enemy, a relative…who?

He rises to his feet, gradually. He is swaying, unsteady. There is no balance in his body. It feels as though he is trying to stand up in the ocean as the tide roars round him, buffeting him and knocking him from side to side.

“Spike!” The girl sobs. She thumps at the door again. “Spike!”

He tumbles down the stairs. He misses a step half way and just slides. He lands in a crumpled heap at the bottom, knocked out cold.

The door crashes open. She has barged in, gaining access by kicking the door down. She gasps, seeing him lying there helpless. She kneels at his side, gently strokes his cheek. She cries over him.

Another figure steps up behind her. He drapes an arm round her shoulders. “Ambulance is on its way Buffy. That’s all we can do. Come on. We should go.”

She glares at her companion. “No Angel. I’m not leaving him!”

“It’s not our business Buff. It’s the best thing for him. It gives him time to think. It’s what he needs.”

Buffy clings to Spike, weeping.

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