capt_peroxide (capt_peroxide) wrote in thedarkhouse, @ 2013-06-11 21:35:00 |
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Spike resolutely ignored the tiny screen on his wrist. It made his skin crawl just to look at it for a number of reasons. When he'd first seen it, in addition to the padded walls of the room he'd been in, he'd been certain the Initiative had him again. That, thankfully, didn't seem to be the case, but it didn't make him feel much better, all things considered. Now that he'd actually used the thing, he felt even worse. Dawn. Poor kid. He wasn't sure what was going on exactly, but he knew that this place was clearly screwing with her head. He didn't believe for a second that Buffy could be there, alive. Did she really expect him to believe a tiny picture on a foreign piece of technology that had been forcibly crammed onto his body? No. If it was her, it was just the bot and nothing more. He didn't have any hope for anything else. There was nothing left in him that <i>could</i> hope. He ground his teeth against the melancholy. It didn't do any sodding good. Exiting the room, he took a look around. Big scary house. Typical. If what he'd been told was accurate, he wasn't going anywhere any time soon. At least, knowing Dawn was here, he didn't feel like he'd failed. He could still protect her, like he'd promised, like he'd failed to do when it mattered most. That was something at least. Picking a direction at random, he started walking. He was a bit leery of entering any of the rooms. He had no idea what time of day it might be and the last thing he wanted was a surprise case of flaming vampire. As he approached the elevator door, however, it dinged open and something caught his eye. Inside was a case of what looked like cigarettes, and he grinned to himself a bit sinisterly. At least there was that. Digging through the case, he extracted three packs of full flavor and one of menthol and pocketed them. Now all he needed was a lighter. |