[Maybe if there were fewer, the disguise would work. His body masking hers to the undead around them, covering up her and her breathing, her scent and her fear that just seems to radiate off her skin. But there's too many charging in, they know she's in there like a caged bird and that's all she hears, the moans and shuffles of a crowd. She curls against Spike to shrink herself, arms tucked in with another choked noise and her eyes pressed tightly shut. For a second she thinks she's listening to his heart beat before she remembers it's her own, so loud in her own ears it's no surprise she can just about feel hands on her, grabbing and trying to pry Spike off of her.
She's scared. Her voice is thin.] Spike...
[Her eyes can't close any tighter to shut it all out. Can't ignore the groping hands, the scratches, they're really on her and something pulls at her arm. Something hurts and she thinks she screams but can't tell, absorbed in the grayness of her closed eyes that seems to become fuzzier and darker. Spirals, taking everything with it, every sense in her body. Is this really death? What it should've felt like...]