Inell's Fanfiction Archive

The hands were rough as they pushed her down, her hands and knees scraping across the hard cement. This couldn't be happening to her, not now, not after all she had been through for the past two weeks.

"Please no," she sobbed, struggling to push herself off the ground. A fist connected with the back of her head, forcing it down, her forehead grazing the hard cement. She cried out at the pain that went through her.

"Begging isn't going to help you now, you stuck up little bitch," it was the boy from her French class. Since Angelus' threat she had done her best not to talk to anyone apart from her few friends. Now, as the drunken and pissed off youth leaned over her and tangled his fist in her long red hair, she thought that maybe that hadn't been such a great idea. He'd found her walking through the park. She had just left Buffy to the slaying so she could catch a few hours sleep before Spike collected her at nine o'clock ~ her nightly sessions of entertaining Angelus were exhausting and she found herself falling asleep during classes more and more lately. She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he accused her of being a snob, a little rich girl who was too busy spending daddy's money on fancy clothes and jewellery who thought herself too good to talk to the commoners. She had tried to walk away, but he'd stood his ground, grabbing hold of her arms and screaming abuse at her before throwing her down to the ground. "You're no better than the stupid sluts you ignore day after day, in fact you're nothing more than a dirty whore..."

His hands ripped at the fine silk chiffon shirt that she had worn to school, her short skirt was being hiked up and all Willow could do was cry. She couldn't bare it, not after everything that happened. So she closed her eyes and shut down her mind, her body refusing to respond to the hands that tore at her clothes. Suddenly a loud snapping sound broke through her barriers and she was left alone. Slowly she raised her grazed forehead from the pavement and glanced back at her would be attacker. He was gone and Spike stood there, glowering at her. Dropping her gaze to his feet she saw the lifeless body of the boy.

"Oh god," she cried out scrambling back and covering her face with her hands. Spike had snapped his neck. He stepped forward, still glaring at her and she burst into a flood of tears.

"Oh bloody hell...women!" he exclaimed, leaning forward and gathering her up into his arms. Holding her close he made his way back to the mansion. By the time he walked through the front doors she had stopped crying but was still clinging to him, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Spike glanced about the main foyer of the mansion and grunted. There were a few minions staring at the odd spectacle he made as he carried his sire's consort. Angrily he turned to them. "What the hell are you looking at?"

The minions bowed their heads and continued with their business. Their whispers followed him up the stairs.

"Angelus," he called out as he reached the top of the stairs and walked into the master lounge area. Angelus strolled out from the library, casually glancing up at his childe, frowning the sight of him cradling Willow.

"What happened?" asked Angelus as Spike set her down before him. His hand cupped her chin, tilting her head back so he could get a clear view of the graze on her head. His eyes quickly taking in the similar marks on her knees and hands, and the torn shirt. He stepped in closer to her, searching her eyes. His voice was soft as he asked, "Willow, what happened?"

"Mitchell," Willow shuddered at the thought of what he could have done had Spike not shown up. Tears began to well in her eyes and she rubbed furiously at them. "He...I'd left Buffy and was walking through the park..." She glanced up at Angelus, frightened that he might misconstrue the situation. "He grabbed me and...I couldn't stop him, he threw me down..."

"Oh come on love, he was standing in front of you for at least five minutes, you could have easily knead him in the balls..." snorted Spike in disgust, smirking at her tears.

"What?" growled Angelus glaring at his smirking childe. He took a step forward and slapped him with enough force to wipe the smirk off his face. "You were there?"

Spike slowly bought his head back up to look at his sire and clenched his jaw, his eyes hardening. "I followed her from when she left the slayer," he affirmed, his body tensing as he read the fury on his sire's face.

"And you did nothing...just let her get hurt?" Angelus asked closing the distance between them.

"I thought she'd have picked up enough from the slayer to defend herself. The kid was as pissed as a fart ~ a kitten could've taken him down," Spike insisted. Angelus smiled and started to turn away. Spike let his smirk return and made the mistake of turning to crow over Willow. Angelus' fist collided with one of his sharp cheekbones, catching him off guard and sending him crashing back into the empty fireplace, his temple catching on the metal grate with a bone-crunching crack.

Willow watched in horror as Spike pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, shaking his head trying to clear his blurred vision as Angelus stormed toward him.

"No, please," she begged for the second time that night, stepping in front of Angelus her hands reaching up to rest against his chest, her eyes filling with tears of panic and fear. "It wasn't his fault, he didn't do anything wrong."

Angelus' hand shot out and grasped her about the neck, pulling her up off her feet before pushing her off balance and letting her crash down onto her bloodied knees. His hand kept a crushing pressure on her neck causing the necklace to bite into her flesh and golden eyes stared coldly down at her.

"This has nothing to do with you," he snarled releasing his death grip and pushing her backwards. Turning his gaze to Spike, who was struggling to stand, he addressed her. "Go have a bath and get cleaned up...I'll deal with you later."

Willow shook in fear at those words. She didn't want to be dealt with. She glanced over at Spike who had managed to stand, somewhat shakily. Angelus' fist moved in a blur, striking out at his childe, sending him sprawling back down. Almost casually he moved over his fallen form, glancing down as Spike once more tried to rise up onto his hands and knees. With a swift kick to the ribs Angelus pushed him back down.

"You know better than that, my boy," he snarled, his head swinging to look at Willow who was still held to her spot in blind terror. "Go, now!"

Scrambling to her feet she ran to the door that led to her rooms and shut herself away from the scene playing out in the master lounge room. Even through the heavy door she could hear Angelus asking Spike questions, the sound of his fist slamming into him. Shaking she walked away from the door and into the bathroom, too scared of the repercussions of disobeying Angelus. Unfortunately even the sound of the bath running did nothing to drown out the sounds coming from the lounge room.

"I'm not her bloody keeper," yelled Spike in frustration, his voice tainted with a hint of pain.

"You are exactly what I tell you to be," was Angelus' curt reply.

After that the voices softened, Angelus' constant low murmur soothed her as she climbed up into the bath full of hot scented water. She sat in the water listening to Angelus' low rumble, assuming that the fighting had stopped, soon his voice was accompanied by soft grunts and groans. Sounds she had heard before, from Angelus' bedroom when they were together. But as she continued to listen, concentrating on those sounds she realised they were different. There was no pleasure in these sounds. They were tinged with pain, almost like someone was trying to hold back screams. Pulling her legs up to her chest she wrapped her arms about them as she continued to listen. Jumping as a crash sounded from the lounge room and Spike fought to contain a scream, it left him as a half strangled cry of pain.

"Oh no, please no," she whispered to herself, bringing her hands up to cover her ears. Unfortunately she could still clearly hear the sounds of Spike's screams, growing louder and more agonized. By the time they stopped the bath water was cold and Willow was still sitting in it, her hands over her ears, eyes screwed tightly shut. That's how Angelus found her some ten minutes later. He reached over and turned on the hot water, topping up the bath and warming it. Stripping off he joined her, dragging her hands away from her ears.

"Open your eyes, Willow," he demanded. She did so, her eyes falling on his face as he turned her hands over in his, exposing the grazes. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, not really...Spike," Willow began to say only to have Angelus cut her off.

"No talk of Spike," he stated calmly, his thumbs running over the grazes, causing her to gasp in pain and look down. Her eyes widened as she took in his hands, long fingers covered in blood, torn flesh and bruised knuckles. The water took on a pink tinge as it washed over their hands. "Let's get you cleaned up...these," his thumbs brushed across her palms. "Should be fine."

Willow watched in confused silence as he picked up the sponge and began to bathe her, his fingers and hands caressing her body, soothing the aches and pains. Carefully he cleaned the dirt and grit from the scrapes on her knees and hands, his fingers examined the back of her head where she'd been hit. Finally he washed her hair, dried her off and dressed her in a soft satin negligee. Picking her up he carried her to the bed and laid her down, pulling the covers up and tucking her in like a child.

"I'm going out for a few hours. Get some sleep," he murmured, turning off the lights and leaving her to the darkness of the room. Eventually she fell into a restless sleep, not waking until hours later, her body tangled in her sheets.

Frustrated she tore herself away from the sheet, getting out of the bed and walking into the bathroom planning to get a glass of water. She stopped as she spotted Angelus' door open, the huge bed the only thing visible in the darkness, illuminated by a few candles set on the bedside table, casting flickering shadows over the single figure lying in the bed. Frowning Willow inched forward and paused at the door, peering into the murky darkness. She could see nothing except for the bed and Spike lying on his stomach arms outstretched, a sheet resting low on hips leaving his back exposed.

As Willow moved into the room she realised there was a purpose to this. His back was nothing more than torn shreds of flesh, bloodied and ripped. Willow felt her stomach drop. Angelus had beaten him for something that wasn't even his fault. Slowly she reached out across the bed, her fingers brushing lightly across his bruised cheek, causing him to flinch and half open his eyes. She swallowed back a lump as his bloodshot eyes focused on her. Crouching down she continued to stroke his face, her eyes filling with tears, her bottom lip trembling.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, knowing that she was the cause of his beating. For a moment he stared unblinkingly and then clenched his jaw.

"Fuck off," he growled and hissed as he lifted his head to turn away from her fingers. Willow hiccupped as a tear escaped, falling down her cheek, and she pulled her hand back, cradling it to her chest. A soft rumble of laughter from the dark corner of the room startled her, causing her to step back from the bed.

Angelus walked calmly toward her from the corner, his hand outstretched, catching hers and leading her back to her own room. Gathering her in his arms he laid them down on the bed, pulling the covers up. Willow trembled. Whether she was cold or scared or shocked, she didn't know. She didn't know anything anymore. Angelus gently ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it back off her face. He smiled down at her as he continued to play with her hair.

"Spike had a point tonight, Willow," he spoke quietly, his fingers tracing the contours of her face. "You should be able to defend yourself, we won't always be there and you certainly can't rely on Buffy..."

Willow winced at the use of that name. He rarely spoke of any of her friends ~ they didn't interest him. Still he continued to stroke her face and talk.

"You'll train with Spike for an hour every morning before school," he paused and smirked, a soft burst of laughter leaving him. "You can start in a few days..."

Willow couldn't help it, the tears started to fall, hot and desperate. A few days because he was too badly beaten to probably even get out of bed for the next few days. As the tears continued to fall she shook her head, not looking at Angelus.

"I can't," she hiccupped. Angelus laughed, his tongue tracing the graze on her forehead.

"Yes you can and you will," he stated quietly, as his lips pressed against the graze. Still Willow continued to shake her head, her body trembling uncontrollably as the past few weeks confusion and pain caught up with her.

"No, I can't do this anymore," she cried, gasping as his arms pulled her in close to him. "I just can't...Buffy's been asking so many questions and...and it's only going to be a matter of time before there's some huge crisis and they'll need me..."

Angelus smiled as she continued to list the problems that their arrangement brought her, his hands caressing her back and neck.

"I can't do it anymore," Willow hiccupped again, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at him. "I don't know what you expect from me and I'm so tired. So very tired. I go to school, I lie to my friends, I push them away because I don't want them to get hurt..."

"Shhh, Willow," hushed Angelus, rocking her in his arms. He leaned down and dragged the tip of his tongue along her cheek, catching her tears, and kissed her closed eyes. "You will continue to do it...because if you don't I shall lock you in these rooms and bring each of your friends in to kill, leaving their rotting corpses here to keep you company."

Willow shuddered in his arms, the tears falling faster as she knew that he was right. She couldn't make everything stop just by saying she didn't want to do it anymore. It had gone beyond that. There was no turning back now. No turning back ever.

"You know who will be first? Hmm?" he looked down at the tiny redhead crying in his arms and smiled. "Xander. Willow, did you ever play this little piggy? Well I shall play little piggy with his nails first, pulling off one for each pig, then I'll rip off his fingers and toes. What do you think? I could string that out for days, one foot or hand each day..."

"No," whispered Willow, glancing up at his cold malicious eyes. "Please...don't. I didn't mean...I'm just so...tired."

"Shhh, I know. That's why you should sleep now," Angelus whispered, kissing her forehead, his fingers once more stroking her hair. "Close your eyes and I'll tell you a fairytale about a redheaded princess and her dark prince."

Willow closed her eyes and listened to his macabre tale of pain and death for all her friends, details of what he would do, what he wanted to do the minute she reneged on their agreement. She knew that he meant every word that he said. She had no choice but to continue being his consort. She had never really had a choice. He had seen to that. Sighing in defeat, she drifted off into a restless sleep, his hands still caressing her face gently.