Wayward by Devil Piglet

Part 9: Low Place Like Home

Spike stood in the kitchen, filled with hate and impotence and loss and wanting to lash out at the nearest thing that moved. He turned to Nikki.

She stood in the doorway, face bloodless and body stiff.

"What?" he demanded. Ignored the way his voice broke. "Can't tell me you didn't enjoy the show." He stood straighter, letting her see him in all his idiocy and damnation. "It was true, what she said. Every word."

Nikki still didn't speak and he moved forward. "You all right? Expect you'll be --"

She threw him down the stairs.

Before he had time to recover she was crouched over him, hands fisted in his shirt, dragging him up to eye level. "Where is he?"

"Have you gone mad? Who?"

She punched him and he felt his lip split. "Tell me or you're dust."

"Promises, promises."

Another punch, this one loosening a couple of teeth he was suddenly very attached to. "Tell me or I kill the Slayer. You know I can do it."

He coughed. So much for the teeth. "That's what they all say. What are you on about, anyway?"

She yanked him up until he was standing, albeit unsteadily. "Robin. Where is Robin Wood?"

"The principal? What the bloody hell do you want with him?" Spike brushed off his pants. "Ungrateful bint," he muttered. "Tosses me down a flight of stairs just so she can get a crack at the handsome headmaster. Very nice. You can start washing out your own mugs from now on..."

He trailed off when he saw the stake. There were times, he thought reluctantly, when he probably ought to just keep his mouth shut.

"Where is he?" Nikki demanded again, and Spike lost patience. A kick to her ribs sent her sprawling, stake still firmly in hand.

"Principal will be by soon enough. He always manages to turn up. What do you want with him?" Spike frowned. "Did he...do this to you? Bring you back?"

She shook her head, circling Spike slowly. "Just take me to him. We'll call the rest even and I won't tell Buffy how -- how we met."

"And that's quite considerate of you," Spike answered. "But if you kill the fellow, Buffy'll just have something else to be amped about. So I think I'll pass."

She aimed a kick to his crotch; he caught her leg and flipped her. Before she could react he'd pinned her, arms akimbo, onto the cold concrete of the floor. He glanced at the stake in her hand, but didn't try to take it.

"Talk," he said. "I've been givin' you the benefit of the doubt, hoping you weren't dangerous -- least, not to them." He nodded upstairs. "You and I have unfinished business and that's fine. But I can't give you free rein with them. Not what I'm about anymore. So why don't you tell Spike what's going on. I promise you, if Wood's behind this he'll get his due. I'll make it slow if that's what you want --"

She made a small, horrified sound and began to struggle away from him in earnest. Confused, Spike released her. She backed up, clutching the stake, until she reached the wall. Then she slumped down, eyes never leaving his. He stood, watching her.

His brain was trying to process something, trying hard but Spike had never been a thinker. There was something, though; something in the sheer unspeakable terror she'd never before allowed him to see. She wasn't afraid for herself, Spike realized.

And then twenty-five-year-old rumors swirled in his brain again, and he studied the onyx of her eyes and the arch of her jawline and the pleadingyearningfuryfear that he knew she hated to reveal.

"It's him, isn't it," Spike murmured. "The kid you were hiding."

She didn't answer but she didn't need to. Spike approached her, carefully, waiting for her to edge away. She remained, and Spike knelt beside her. Took her hands, still clutching the stake, in his.

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

Dawn stepped away from the basement door. The others would be down soon. She dashed to the living room, upending Buffy's purse and rifling through the contents. When she found what she was looking for, she scooped everything back inside and ran back to the kitchen. She traced the Sunnydale High School - Administration logo on the piece of paper as she dialed.

"Principal Wood? Um, this is Dawn. Dawn Summers....no, Buffy's fine. But you need to come over right away. Spike has something that belongs to you."

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

He was rubbing her fingers between his; trying to comfort her when he'd been the one to take away everything to begin with. She let him, though, and that was something.

"Didn't know, pet. I swear to you. Maybe...should have figured it out sooner but it was enough keeping you alive."

She shut her eyes briefly. When she opened them her gaze was clear and sharp.

"I gave him his father's name. Reese and I...we were married in secret. Kept the baby a secret, too."

She didn't need to tell him why. Had there been any reliable evidence that she'd had a family, he would have gone after them for the thrill of it. But Dru had been antsy, the steady sound of rain on the windows of their hideout curdling a mind that was unhinged during the best of times. And without Nikki, New York suddenly had nothing to offer Spike.

"Didn't know you had a man," he said. "You want I should...?"

Nikki shook her head. "I don't. Not anymore. Killed by a Styris demon in Washington Square Park." She smiled bitterly. "He liked to patrol with me, Reese did. After that it was just me and Robin. My Watcher took us in."

And had continued to hide the child, Spike surmised, after Nikki's own death. Jesus. And this was just one of the many threads of destruction that trailed in Spike's wake. Strange thought that he couldn't (wouldn't?) wrap his mind around.

"Left town right after...right after," Spike told her. "Did not pass go, did not collect your Watcher."

"Remind me to thank you for that someday."

Spike was still holding her hands in his and he withdrew, feeling unaccountably abashed. She cocked her head at him, as if she was seeing him for the first time.

"You've changed," she said.

He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "A lot's happened since then."

She accepted this. The less Nikki knew, the better, really. Easier to think of him as the merry, murderous demon she remembered. Easier for him sometimes too.

"Robin -- he's really here? Nearby?"

Spike nodded. "Can take you to him."

"That won't be necessary."

They both jumped to see Robin Wood descending the staircase, stake in hand. Nikki gasped. Wood hesitated, just slightly, when he saw her but then he moved ahead with renewed purpose.

"I told Buffy you were dangerous, that I didn't trust you." He didn't look at Nikki.

"Funny. I said the same thing about you. And look who's holding the stake."

"Look who's still the First's plaything," Wood replied mockingly. His voice was raw. "What does she tell you to do, Spike? Go upstairs and make a meal out of one of those kids? Take Buffy down, clear the path?"

Spike's eyes narrowed. "Oh, ho, what's this? Somebody's had visitors. Been seeing things yourself, have you? Well, here's hoping you've got enough brians to tell the difference between what's real and what isn't."

"I'm not the crazy one here, Spike." Finally, finally he turned his attention to Nikki. He advanced on her, fists clenching and unclenching around the stake he held. Spike hovered, struggling to stay back, to let this play out as it would.

"You are not my mother."

Nikki didn't retreat, was held in place by Wood's presence as surely as if she'd been tethered. "Robin...?"

"Shut up!" he roared, and she flinched. Infuriated, Spike moved between them.

"You watch your mouth, boy," he snarled. "I'll not have you --"

Wood shoved him roughly aside and Spike staggered. Wood rushed past him, arms outstretched, ready to banish the specter before him.

But instead his fingers closed around the living flesh of Nikki's arms. He froze, staring into eyes that mirrored his own. His grasp around her tightened and he began to shake.

"Shhh," she soothed him. "It's all right. It's all right now. I'm here." He was motionless for long moments in her arms, watching, waiting. But then Nikki's hands drifted up to touch his face and he pulled her forward, closer, closer still until he could bow his face in her hair and she could embrace him. They stood together, swaying a bit. Holding each other up, it seemed to Spike, and the scene summoned queer sepia-toned memories within him.

She was murmuring muffled words to her son, face buried in his chest. Wood's head was bowed above her, tears traveling from his flesh to hers as he clutched at her.

Then, abruptly, he pulled away. "Blood," he whispered, staring at her with revived grief. "You smell like blood." He backed away and stalked toward Spike.

"You kept her down here," he raged. "What did you do to her?"

Spike's chin jutted out. "Bet you'd love to know," he hissed. And he could hear Nikki say something to him, she was pissed off no doubt but suddenly her voice faded because all his attention was trained on the rapid, really very fast downward trajectory of the stake in Wood's hand.

He howled in pain and dropped to his knees with the stake still buried in him. Looked up to see a panting, wide-eyed Nikki gripping her son's arm. Looked down to see blood pumping from the wound, scant inches from his heart. She'd deflected the blow at the last minute. Saved him.

Wood was staring at her with something akin to horror. She gently forced his hand down and knelt beside Spike.

"Don't touch him!"

But she was already extracting the stake, ignoring Spike's growl as she did so. His hand clamped over her wrist. Wood started forward.

Spike used her weight to pull himself up until he stood once more in front of Wood. "Better luck next time, mate."

"Stop!" Nikki ordered furiously. She turned to her son, who was shaking with rage. "Leave it," she whispered urgently. "I'll have no more killing, not today."

An arrow whistled through the air, narrowly missing both Spike and Wood. Three gazes swiveled upwards to see Buffy standing at the doorway, crossbow resting easily on her shoulder.

"So," she said evenly. "Who wants to tell me what's going on?"


Continued in Part 10: In Time The Strong And Stately Turrets Fall