Chapter 11

Ginny suffered through what seemed like an eternity of burning pain, accompanied by extreme vertigo. She screamed endlessly, trapped and then was spat out. She hit the ground hard, nerve endings tingling and raw so that even the slightest whisper of cloth against her body caused blinding pain as she raised a small cloud of dust. She moaned in pain as she tried to move and she managed to get to her hands and knees before she collapsed again. Dazedly, she registered that blood was pooling under her hands. Her blood? It must be. Blood running in little trickles of life. She turned her head so her cheek was flat against the stone to watch the blood nudge its way across the floor. It was barely light in here, candlelight flickering to cast gleams of radiance across the red on the ground. Cold. It was very cold. She sighed, breath slipping out from bruised lips. What a miserable end, bleeding her life away somewhere cold and dark. She relaxed into the cold, feeling her heart slow down and the raging fire of her agony cool to a smouldering flame. Ginny waited to die.

The scrape of stone against stone caught her attention. Could she hide? Scratch that, could she even move? The answer to both questions was a resounding no. Footsteps over the ground and Ginny tried to force herself up onto her elbows, legs dragging uselessly. She whimpered in pain, and slumped back down into the nearly black pool of her own blood. She could feel the ache across her back start up again, ribbons of pain lancing across her back from her neck to her ankles. The footsteps paused, and then sped up, coming to a halt at her side.

“So, what have we here then?” A rough male voice spoke. She moaned; mind lost in the pain. “Bloody hell, you’re bleeding all over the place. And here’s me thinking it was just some dog or summat like that that had crawled in here to die. You’re a mess, pet.” She sensed him kneel beside her. A pale white finger tipped with black nail polish swept through the blood, like a child stealing icing from a cake. “Your back’s been whipped through your clothes, and they’re in pieces. So’s your back. Someone really did a number on you.” A hand touched her shoulder and she shrieked in startled pain. Her agonized vocalisation was answered by a hoarse yell. “Sorry, pet. Forgot about the no causing pain to the living and human. You’ll havta stay here while I. . .damn it, I can’t do that either. A vamp would get you for sure.” The sound of a lighter, and then Ginny smelt cigarette smoke as the man exhaled. “You’ll havta get up.”

Ginny clenched her teeth together and determinedly surged upwards. The voice offered murmured encouragement. On her feet, chin nearly touching her chest, she looked over at the owner of the voice. All she got was an impression of white blond hair and brilliant blue eyes before she collapsed into unconsciousness.

~*~*~*~

“Bloody hell, Slayer, I had to dust about twenty vamps on the way over! Let me in and take this chit off my hands.” She was lying on wood and she hurt more then she had before. All she could see was weathered white wooden slats and big black combat boots. Her rescuer? Although, he didn’t sound too happy about the rescuing. “C’mon, she’s bleeding to death out here! Her back’s in shreds and her face is going to be some lovely colours come morning.” The sound of a door opening. “Finally!”

“What do you want, Spike?” A very unfriendly female voice asked. American accent? That brought new panic to Ginny. Where was she? And who where these people? Ginny gasped for breath, then started to cough, bringing up blood. More blood. Wonderful. She felt wryly amused at her thoughts, and then rolled over. That brought a scream into her throat as her back hit the ground and she heard a gasp. Well, now do you believe him? “Oh my god!”

“Help, please?” Ginny asked weakly in a scratchy voice. Her throat ached from all the screaming she’d been doing. This blonde girl was bending over her and Ginny moaned in pain as the twit touched her shoulder. “Idiot,” Ginny rasped. She heard a chuckle, and strained her eyes to look past Goldilocks and saw black leather coat hem, black boots and blond hair. At least he had some clue. “Get her away from me before she causes more damage. You look like you have some idea. She doesn’t.”

“Well!” The girl huffed.

“Shut up. Kinda bleeding to death here, and I don’t plan on dying yet. Hospital?”

“Don’t know if we want to take you to hospital with those kinds of wounds. Stuff like that usually brings the coppers around.”

“I’ll havta do it then.” Ginny moved her hands slowly and painfully, getting her wand out of her robes. “Remedis.” A flare of white light spun through her and she arched her back in pain as skin knotted itself together. “Ow. Remind me to get a proper Mediwitch to do it next time.” Ginny made it onto her knees, and then the guy offered her a hand. She took it and leaned against him gratefully. “Thanks.”

“I’m going to call Giles.” Blondie nodded her head and made her way into the house.

“So, what happened to you?” He seemed interested, so Ginny decided to tell him as he helped her into the house. Blondie was obviously too wrapped up in herself to care.

“Evil guy in my head tried to make me kill people. Old history that, he’d done it before. And then I passed out getting him to leave. Woke up, he tried it again, I forced him into a cage, he retaliated by sending me here. Must have reckoned I’d die before I got help. Bastard. I am so hunting him down and killing him slowly. Much blood. Maybe I should start with a whipping to match mine?” Ginny mused absently. The guy laughed. “My name’s Ginny Weasley. What’s yours?” An older woman bustled into the room and pressed a hot cup of hot chocolate into her hands. Ginny took it thankfully and sipped from the hot sugary liquid, filling it trickle down into her numbed body. “Thanks.” Ginny buried her face in the mug, drinking greedily. She was dehydrated from blood loss, and the sugar would help the shock.

“Spike.”

“What kind of a name is Spike?” She asked him curiously.

“A descriptive one.” He was looking at her with a sly look in his eyes.

“Ok, not going there,” Ginny said firmly. “So, where the hell am I?”

“Place called Sunnydale, California. Seeing as how you’ve magic and all, you’d know about the Hellmouth, or heard of it at least.”

Ginny looked at him in shock, nearly letting go of the mug. He caught it before it hit the floor. “But it can’t be. The last Hellmouth was closed in the year 1836, when a witch by the name of Anne Thatcher sacrificed herself and destroyed the Order of Aurelius, a vampire clan. It was in Paris. This can’t be a Hellmouth, they would teach it at school, all they teach is the theory now, and even that’s a small, neglected field. Defence against the Dark Arts is one of my favourite subjects, and I would know! As it goes in the account, god, what did it say? ‘On the night of the 12^th of May, year of our lord 1836, the Hellmouth of Paris was closed. With the blood of a witch with a noble spirit and pure heart and the dust of the Order of Aurelius, it was clogged shut. She came upon the blood drinkers and though confronted and taxed sorely by one vampire of the name of Angelus, she prevailed and by her magic slammed shut the Mouth of Hell. As it is written, may her sacrifice never be forgot. All members of the Clan died that night, and by their final deaths helped close the Mouth that they had kept open before,’” Ginny recited, eyes half closed. “Three vampires, those that were called the Scourge of Europe due to their nefarious deeds, Darla, a Childe of the Master, Angelus, the Childe of Darla and Drusilla, one of the two Childer of Angelus were the last to fall. Drusilla hast been recorded as warning the Master of the catastrophe that was to befall the Order, but the Master mocked her. The insane vampire Seer then prevailed upon her Sire, but driven by his own Sire Darla, he punished her for her true foretelling. Such was the end of the Order of Aurelius. May pride be the downfall of all our foes.’ The Council of Wizardry, records of the eighteenth century. Or something like that.”

“Well, that’s interesting,” Spike said slowly. “Because that’s not what happened here. A witch did try to destroy the Order, but she died. And the Hellmouth has always been here.”

Ginny felt sick to her stomach. “So, not only am I in America, far from home but I’m in an alternate dimension. Tom really wanted to fuck up any chance I had of getting home.” Ginny buried her face in her hands.

“Kind of a prerogative of evil, luv.”

“Wanker. He is such a wanker. Well, he’d havta be cos now he’s the Evil Lord of Darkness that looks some mutated version of a snake. Icky. Damn bloody Voldemort and his bloody Deatheaters. Painful deaths to them all. Saaayyy. . .” Ginny looked up at Spike. “You don’t have any ideas on torture, do you?” He grinned.

“I have plenty.”

“Good. You can come home with me, when I find out how, and we can bring bloody, painful slow deaths to the bastard who sent me here. Sound good?”

“Sounds bloody fantastic, luv. One problem though, I can’t actually help with the hands on stuff.”

“Why not?”

“Chip in me ‘ead zaps me everytime I try and hurt humans.”

“I’m not sure if he *is* human.” Ginny drummed her fingers on the arm of the couch, before grabbing his head.

“Hey!”

“Shut up.” She ran her fingers through his hair, pressing down on the ridge of scar tissue. “Interesting.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Shh. Simple spell. One of translocation, combined with one of healing. S’wonder no one’s done it for you before this.” Ginny let him up.

“Could have something to do with the fact that I’m an evil vampire, luv.” He ran his fingers through his hair and grinned at her. “Know how it’s different here? I’m the Childe of Angelus, brother of Drusilla, he got a bloody soul and Darla is dust. The Master is dust too, but the Hellmouth is still open.”

“Well, seeing as how I don’t plan on dying to close the bloody thing, it can stay open. I need to get of here.” Ginny bounced to her feet. “Come with? I need a Big Bad vampire to protect me from the Slayer. Cos, obviously evil.” Spike snorted back laughter and rose to his feet, offering her his arm gallantly.

“Obviously, pet. And we can talk about this mojo business of yours. See ya, Joyce!” She took his arm and the two set out for the door, him whistling slightly. “Don’t want to wait up for the Watcher?”

“Watchers are tweed wearing arseholes who read too many books. Out of touch with the real world. And I need to get out of the house. Pressing darkness.”

“Pressing darkness?” He raised an eyebrow at her as he sat her down on the lawn in front of the house. A few patches of her blood still glistened on the grass.

“Oh, so heavy. I’m a tad empathic. And in there…the air’s so thick I can’t breathe.” Ginny lay back on the grass, staring up at the stars moodily. “God, I am so sick of being the plaything. He doesn’t even want me as such, he just wants to hurt Harry frigging Potter. I hate heroes. So much.” He leant his head on his hand and watched her. “Am I bitching too much?”

“Nah, pet.” Her eyes started to close drowsily. “Watcher.” Spike nodded at Giles as he came up the drive.

“Spike. What’s the problem? Buffy wasn’t very coherent.”

“Her name’s Buffy? And I thought I had it bad.” Ginny snickered. “I’m the problem. Little red haired witchy dimensional tripping problem. Not my fault though. I just happened to be on the path to someone else’s destruction.” She dragged herself up and stared at the shocked man. “So. The name’s Ginny Weasley.”

“Rupert Giles,” he said slowly.

“And Spike we both know…now. He’s a good sort, for an evil bloodsucking vampire.” Ginny cocked her head to the side and blinked lazily. “He’s at least smarter then the blonde indoors. I mean honestly…bitch.” She looked back over her shoulder at Spike. “I am so working on getting you bitealicious again. S’not right that someone should do that. Like caging a wolf up.” Ginny got to her feet and cracked her knuckles by flexing her fingers against her palm. “I like wolves. And the darkness calls me. So much here…bleeding out of the earth.” She closed her eyes and then opened them again. Red. Deep burning fire ember red.

“And you wonder why I could send you here,” her lips formed the words, but she wasn’t speaking. Not as herself, anyway. “It calls across the dimensions. So much power, just waiting for the one to unlock it.”

“And through me, you’re not.” Ginny stumbled away from the two men, and tripped on her black robes, sending herself sprawling on the ground. “I didn’t last time, and I won’t now. Not now I know what you can do and who you are.”

“What makes you think you have a choice?” Her own voice demanded of her, cold and chilling indifference ringing through the words. She sat up and breathed heavily, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth.

“There is always a choice,” she insisted. Her hand came out holding her wand and she threw it to Giles. He caught it; barely. Spike hissed as the girl got to her feet, shaking all over and blood running from her mouth and nose. “Always.” Her eyes rolled up, and she flew backwards as if she had been slammed in the stomach. “AHH!” A short sharp scream, soon cut off as she hit the side of the house, cracking her head hard and sliding down to the ground. She left a trail of blood behind her. “Choices, Tom, choices.” Spike cheered for her silently as she got to her feet again. He could see the brown fighting to emerge from the red. “I made mine. I’m dark, but I live on the light. You corrupted me, but I stay above that. I crave blood, but I fight the urge to cause pain away. I did it by lusting after Harry all those years but now I’m running with the bad boys. Got me one here too. His name’s Spike, but I’m thinking he ain’t as dark as those around him think.” Ginny’s head tilted to the side, and she stared straight at Spike.

“He’s a vampire. He can never be any more then his nature made him.”

“And here’s me thinking not. Here’s me thinking you’re leaving again, Tom. Glad we had the chance to talk.” Her mouth opened in a howl of agony, and she crumpled to her knees. “Had enough of golden boys. Had enough of self-righteousness. Had enough of sweet. And this is where I get off. In the dark. With the blood. With the agony. Because you can’t make me break.” She slumped to the ground, breath rasping through her throat and into her lungs as he left in a howl of rage and a flicker that reminded her of his robes, dark blazing against dark in a flash. “Spike.”

He was at her side in an instant. “Yes, pet?”

“Drink.” She bared her throat, brown eyes on his and she could see the shock ripple over his face. His demon leapt to the fore, and she smiled tiredly. “Symbolically.” He smiled back at her and lifted her into his arms, started to wash her blood-streaked face with broad sweeps of his tongue. “Blood for blood,” she mumbled and he listened to her weary whisperings as her magic-laced blood ripped through him. “He’ll be back. Won’t leave me here. Has to play, does Tom. Cat with a mouse.”

“Oh, I say, Spike…” Giles stuttered. Spike ignored the Watcher as he cleaned up the witch. Her blood was so *strong*, so down right scrumptious, darkness paired with innocence. And then she collapsed, with a small sigh. He hefted her up onto his shoulder and headed inside the house.

“Joyce! Antiseptic, bandages, full kit,” Spike snapped as he stomped into the house. “Know you have ‘em, seeing as what the Slayer gets up to. Where can we lay her flat?” Joyce pointed wordlessly at the table and Spike gently placed Ginny on it, her face blanched white against the fire of her hair and the black of her robes. He put her on her stomach, carefully managing her head so she wouldn’t smother, and hissed at the sight of the blood seeping from the whip cuts. He could swear he saw bone in places. Giles had followed him in, and Spike swung to face him, yellow eyes gleaming dangerously. “Help, or go away.”

“I’ll help. Joyce?” Giles took the medical stuff from Joyce and turned to Spike. “We need to get her robes off and away from the cuts.”

“Right.” Spike took a hold of the cloth and ripped the few remaining pieces that remained connected. He then bent to her back and started licking. When he heard Giles’s gasp, he looked up tiredly. “Vampire spit, coagulant and antibacterial.” At Giles’s nod of understanding, Spike turned back to his very pleasurable task of cleaning up the witch’s back. She tasted like burnt sugar and spices…sweet but not stickily so. And there was that dark thread running through her. He could feeling himself growing hard, and it was taking all his willpower not to moan aloud. She just tasted *so* good…

Ginny woke up muzzily, and could have sworn Azrael was licking her back, purring as he did so. “Azrael…” She turned her head and looked into blue eyes. “Spike,” she acknowledged happily and drowsily. Her eyes drifted closed again. “S’nice.” He chuckled against her back and she stretched languorously, the pain fading under her contented feeling. It was more of a dull ache now, and she could cope with that.

“Spike!” A scream and the sound of something being dropped, and then Spike wasn’t there anymore. “Giles, how could you?!” Ginny sat up to see that Slayer girl with a stake over Spike’s heart and the older guy standing there, mouth open.

“Accacio wand.” Her wand leapt into Ginny’s hand at her cool command. “Accacio stake.” The stake smacked into her other hand. “Leviosa!” The stake left her hand and speared into the wall beside Buffy’s head. “*My* vampire. Do it again, and that will be your head, not the inoffensive wall. That chip is so coming out, you realize?” Spike nodded at her exasperated tone.

“You, huh, what?” Buffy screeched. Ginny pressed her hands to her head in pain.

“Thanks, pet.” Spike grinned cockily at Ginny, and she smiled back. “Why am I your vampire?”

“Cos I said so. Good enough?”

“You get the chip outta my head, and I’ll be anything you bleeding well want,” he said fervently.

“And besides, you’re such a bad ass vampire. I have a sneaking suspicion that you could make a lot of pain happen to the one who hurts me.” Ginny tucked her legs up under her, quite unselfconscious about her semi-nudity. “Didn’t I tell you not to do that, blondie?” Buffy gaped at her, one hand still holding Spike against the wall. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Ginny shrugged fluidly and her wand flicked. “Levoisa!” Buffy flew through the air and out of the room. Ginny let her fall and heard the Slayer drop to the ground. Ginny smiled sweetly at Giles. “Don’t cross me. I have the temper that goes with this hair. She got off light.” Spike came over to her, wicked lazy grin dancing over his face.

“That was fanfuckingtastic, pet. Do it again?”

“Good lord.” Giles cleaned his glasses as Spike reached out and hauled the red haired girl up for a hungry kiss, before scrambling to look after his incensed Slayer. Ginny moaned as fire swept through her veins; nothing had prepared her for this. She was on fire with sensation as his tongue swept through her mouth, teasing, tasting. Teeth nipping on her bottom lip. She just tried to respond, fingers threading through his platinum hair and legs swinging around to hold him close. Eventually through lack of oxygen, she was forced to break it off.

“Wow. Was that thank you?” Ginny was panting slightly, lips bruised and looking very well kissed. “Cos, if it was, I’m going to save your unlife more often.” He smirked at her, and then both of their heads swivelled to the doorway as Buffy came storming in. Ginny’s hand flew up and as Buffy flinched, she cast a shield spell.

Spike’s hands were running up and down her back, lightly touching the whipmarks that were even now healing up under the influence of her magic and his vampiric nature. She hissed and arched her back. “Although this is fun, I’m thinking it’s a bit public for my taste.”

“Gotta point there. And I need new clothes rather desperately.” Ginny ran an eye up and down Buffy’s clothes. “But really not liking what she’s wearing.” Spike smothered laughter as he stepped back and draped his duster about her shoulders. “Quite the gentleman, Spike.”

“I just don’t want what’s mine on public display.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Hey, if I’m yours then you’re mine, and as soon as I’ve got my bite back, I’m making it permanent.” Ginny frowned in thought, and leant back on the table.

“I wonder what that would do to Voldemort’s spell?” Her eyes lit up with malicious delight. “I think it would fuck him up rather spectacularly.” She giggled.

“I like the way your mind thinks, pet.”

“Oh, good.” And then she fainted…again. She was rather disgusted at herself but the bloodloss and the spellcasting really wasn’t helping.

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