Remember, Remember the Fifth of November

Chapter Nine

Andrew fought hard to stop himself from whimpering or crying out as he was dragged along the rough gravel path. He wanted to call for Spike, but he doubted that he would be heard, even with Spike's vampiric sense of hearing. If only Andrew were a vamypre, then he'd be able to fight off his captor… Or maybe not. The man that was pulling him along was clad all in black, wearing a long dark cloak that obscured his face. He looked like one of the ring wraiths from the Lord of the Rings, or a Dementor from Harry Potter. He was small – at least, small compared to the thing the hand must come from. Really, he was six foot five-ish. Almost a foot taller than Andrew, but Spike could deal with it. He thought so, at least. Very soon, Andrew found that they had come to a suspiciously large sewer, like the ones the vampires had used to get around in Sunnydale. The smell made him want to throw up as he was dragged along but he didn't. He whimpered a lot though and endlessly tried to claw his way back, but he was unable to. The last thing he remembered before being knocked out was a large shadow across the wall and then a ringing in his ears. After that, he fainted so fast he didn't even have time to register the back of his head falling against cold steel.

Spike was hurrying along the road as fast as he could, no longer needing to keep to the shadows. The sudden setting of the sun unnerved him, but there wasn't much he could do about that. He paused every few minutes, trying to catch Andrew's scent. As far as he could tell, he'd been running away from something or other – his trail kept turning into strange alleys and going back where it had come. Something had clearly been pursuing him, but why? It was something to do with Maya, that was for sure. She might want to distract them, or she might just be bored. Whatever the reason, Spike was going after Andrew. He sighed. This was so annoying. Why couldn't Andrew take care of himself? It would be so much easier if he could; Spike did not like having to go after him and save him again and again…

The trail he followed ended by the entrance of a sewer. Spike couldn't help but give a slight chuckle. It was a good thing Drusilla wasn't here. She'd think this was completely disgusting. Spike tried to imagine Drusilla walking through a sewer and found that he couldn't, which didn't actually surprise him. Spike shrugged and casually crouched down to get onto the ladder. Once he was halfway down, he jumped. He groaned at the loud splash he made when he reached the bottom. The sewers back in Sunnydale had been a lot cleaner, strangely enough. He continued on, trying to find Andrew's scent through the stench.

Drusilla sang softly to herself as she strolled through the melancholy cemetery. The graves here were old, mostly, but a few new ones were around. It took Drusilla a surprisingly short amount of time to find the one she was looking for.

Beneath the shade of gnarled old oak tree that had been there for decades before she'd even been born, there was a gravestone bearing the name 'William Pratt'. According to the stone, he had been born in November 1850 and died in May 1880. The dates were no more specific than that, but even without the name and the date, Drusilla would recognize this gravestone immediately, not because of how it looked, but because of how it felt. She could sense him. Her Spike. This was his gravestone. But he'd never been buried here before. She'd taken him home and buried him herself, waiting patiently until he woke up to his new life. Okay, perhaps not patiently. But Drusilla didn't think she'd been too restless. Spike had ordered this grave to be put here himself, after he'd died. Months after. Drusilla turned around suddenly, convinced that he was here, now. Another him, from another time. What would he think if he saw her? What he immediately see the flush in her cheeks and the warmth of her breath and know that she was part human? Or would he just think she was his Drusilla, from back in the nineteenth century? She didn't know.

Spike was beginning to think he'd followed the trail wrong when he heard small whimpers coming from a place nearby. He started running, splashing up the water – and whatever else – in his path. The strong scent of blood stopped him dead. What had happened to him?

"Spike! So glad you could join us!" The voice was deep and booming, so low you could feel it in your bones more than you could hear it. Spike turned around, unsure of what he'd see. The thing that stood behind him was so still it seemed a statue, but there was no mistaking those hands. It was the thing that had attacked Spike earlier. Except this time, it had its whole body with it. "We have what you're looking for,"

Spike raised an eyebrow, looking at the thing suspiciously. "Right? And what'd that be, then?"

"The key,"

Now Spike was thoroughly confused. "Look mate. I came for a silly little boy who should be looking after himself; I don't have a clue what 'key' you're talking about!"

He tried to walk past, but the thing blocked his way. Spike waited, but it did not move a muscle. "You gonna let me pass?" The thing clenched its hands into tight fists and swung at Spike. He barely managed to get out of the way in time. "I take that as a no then," He dug around in his pockets, hoping he had something to use as a weapon. There were two stakes, but Spike doubted they would be of any use right now. Next to them was a knife. It was pretty small, but it would have to do. The next time the thing tried to attack, he leaped out of the way and stabbed it in its arm. The skin dissolved into smoke as though there'd never been anything there and when the knife was taken out, it reformed. That wasn't good. How was Spike supposed to kill this thing if he couldn't even injure it?

Drusilla was heading back to the place where she and Spike had said they'd meet each other after he got Andrew back, only to find that Spike was nowhere to be seen. She hoped he wouldn't be gone for too long, but she wondered if he was in trouble. It couldn't be too hard to get Andrew back, could it?

Dawn ate her breakfast at the table alone. Even Xander missed Spike, she was sure of it. Although he definitely didn't miss his company, she thought he missed patrolling with him. They'd been doing that a lot lately. Dawn had been so glad that they were finally getting along, at least a bit… He'd only been gone for a few days, but it felt like so much longer. Maybe it was because they all secretly thought he'd never come back. It was like that time he'd died closing the Hellmouth eight years ago. Buffy didn't seem to have accepted the fact that he was dead, or maybe she just really hadn't cared an ounce for him after all.

Spike was really, really annoyed, but right now that was taking a backseat to the pain. He'd almost entirely forgotten the hunger. Almost. This thing was too big for him to fight off alone, especially since he couldn't even hurt it a little bit. He thought he might have lost some teeth, but couldn't tell for all the blood in his mouth. But he wasn't going to leave. Wasn't like there was much of a place where he could go anyway. They couldn't leave until they found what Maya had sent them to find, whatever that might be. And okay, maybe they didn't need Andrew to do that, but it was probably a good idea to help him. And it wasn't like Spike could really get away from this thing, even if he did try. But at least he wasn't dead yet, like a lot of people would be. And he thought he might have got one or two hits in, but maybe not. It was a bit hard to tell really. Bloody hell, this thing was harder to fight than Illyria and that was saying something.

He managed to move just in time to avoid another hit. This thing was faster than it looked, although he guessed that must all be magic, like how its limbs could dissolve into thin air or detach from its body. If only Red was here right now, she'd probably be able to kill this thing, or even the Slayer. She was the Slayer, after all, although these days he couldn't call her that. Not when there were so many of them.

"Spike! Get out of there!" Spike fought back the urge to turn to answer the voice, instead keeping his eyes on the beast of a thing that was trying to kill him.

"Dru, I can't go anywhere!" He called back, trying unsuccessfully to stab the monster.

Once again, the flesh that had previously appeared solid dissolved before his eyes. Drusilla looked at the monster, really looked into its eyes. A distant and dreamy look appeared in her own eyes and Spike knew what she was trying to do. And to his surprise, it actually worked. But he didn't want to leave.

"I'm going to get Andrew," he said and ran over to the place where he'd heard the sounds Andrew had been making. A short while later, he heard light splashing sounds that were steadily getting even fainter. Drusilla had left and he was on his own. He ran faster, ignoring the pain in his legs. But when he saw Andrew, smelt him, his hunger came back full force. The little guy was lying on the floor, in amongst all the muck. He was chained to the wall and had several wounds; though they were nothing severe, the scent of blood was enticing to Spike and he couldn't help but want to bite him right then. But he didn't.

"Know where the key is?" He asked, gesturing to the shackles.

"Spike! You're here!" Andrew said, looking up. "Um… Well, a guard took them, but he went that way," He pointed in the opposite direction from where Spike had come.

"Right," Spike said, heading off to go find this guard Andrew had mentioned. He hoped this guard was human actually. He really was starving. He wouldn't ordinarily be this hungry, even after a couple of days worth of not eating. Must be this place, messing with his mind.

It didn't take long to find the guard. He was leaning against a wall, clad in a black cloak and over six feet tall. The ring of keys at his belt was easily visible. As Spike approached, he still seemed relaxed, lighting a cigarette and lifting it to his lips. Obviously he didn't think Spike seemed like much of a threat.

"What do you want?" He asked in a deep, raspy voice.

"Keys," Spike said, kicking the man in the face and catching him off guard, knocking him to the ground. He dropped the cigarette and his hood fell back, which allowed Spike a reasonably clear view of his face. He was quite surprised; clearly this guy didn't know too much about vampires. Just as he was about to get up, Spike reached down and broke his neck. He stopped moving immediately. Spike took the keys from the belt and wondered if the blood was worth losing those extra few seconds… He decided that it probably would be. He knew he'd regret the decision later, but damn it, he was so hungry. He pulled the dead man up and savagely bit down on his throat. Even though his heart had stopped beating, the blood flowed quickly into his mouth. He drank and drank, draining the body in seconds and then letting it fall to the floor. He felt pleasantly full; better than he ever felt on pig's blood. And the taste was far superior… After that, he headed back to Andrew, the keys rattling in his hand. Andrew seemed slightly startled by his appearance and he realised that he must still have a little blood on his mouth. He wiped it away with his coat sleeve and knelt down to face Andrew.

"Got the keys," He said, holding them up.

"The guard, what did…? Did you, like, you know… kill him?" Andrew asked.

"Yeah. Why's that?" Spike asked.

"It's just… You shouldn't be, you know. The last time you were killing people, you went insane from guilt. It's wrong. I felt terrible after I killed Jonathon. So, yeah… You really shouldn't have done that," Andrew said, holding out his arms.

There were only three keys on the ring, so it took a reasonably short while to find the right one. "Shouldn't I have? No. I shouldn't have. I'm stupid. If Buffy and Dawn were here…,"

Andrew got to his feet, trying to be as threatening as he could when he was a few inches shorter and a hell of a lot weaker than Spike. "But they're not here and you can't rely on them to help you decide wrong from right. That is something only you should decide. If you just go around killing people…"

Spike didn't say a word. He walked back to the place where he'd left the guard, hoping there'd be a way out. There must be one somewhere. Andrew, unable to come up with any other decision, followed after him.

This chapter got up here pretty quick. It's only been a couple of weeks since I last updated, although I was aiming for a week... But this chapter is longer, so there. This is getting a bit more interesting now. Hope anyone reading thinks so too. I'm not too sure if Spike would actually act like this, but I don't think I got him too bad. I'll just blame Maya, because she is very evil.