Spike put a hand to his head but that did nothing block out the screams, which undoubtedly came from the other man's - just not his throat. "Hey," Spike started as he dared to take a step forward, closer to the heat, closer to the flames. And all of it was repeated when Mitchell seemed to want to flee. A wince. There were bad memories there, involving a certain Hellmouth and the sensation of his body disintegrating. That had bloody well hurt and he was in no mood to experience it again. Still ... he owned the man for putting up with him through it all.
"Stay. Just ... stay." Hoping that he'd said the words loud enough, Spike braved another step and blindly reached out through the fire. Except it wasn't fire. After letting out a sigh of relief, Spike grabbed Mitchell's arm. "Mitchell." Still ... what the fuck. "It's gonna be okay." Bloody hell if it was, though.
He reached for the little toy he'd gotten upon his arrival and hit a button - didn't matter what it was and started to bitch. Didn't matter who got it. "Explosion, dunno if you've bloody well heard it, but it's Mitchell in fake Mitchell and I could use some help."