Good Dog, Spike

BY : SpikesEvilbint
Category: BtVS AU/AR > General
Dragon prints: 1434
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Good Dog, Spike Part One

The two men stood back and admired their work. The first procedure on a subject was always gave cause for them to feel satisfied. Over the years they had honed their skills, until now they could achieve exactly what they wanted every time without fail. The time of experimentation was behind them.

“Well done, David,” said the shorter of the two. “Exemplary work, as always.”

David smiled broadly. “Thanks, Carl. Everything went perfectly. I can’t wait until I can go back in and finish the job.”

The beauty of operating on vampires was the fact that if alterations had to be done in stages, only a day needed to be given between procedures courtesy of their advanced healing.

“It looked like things went well at your end,” added David, casting his eyes over the line of sutures running across the creature’s throat.

Carl nodded. “Yes, it’s such a simple operation nowadays. It works perfectly too. The clients are always delighted with it.”

They stared once more at the creature in its cage. An intravenous drip pushed blood and nutrients in to it, ensuring that the wounds inflicted during surgery healed overnight. The vampire stirred slightly.

“Um…well, I’d better go and write up the report on it,” said Carl, when he saw the creature move.

He loved his job and was more than happy to do all the procedures that he was asked to do, but he avoided seeing the vampires waking up if he could. He’d never really understood why they did the procedures in the order that they did. But his superiors obviously knew what they were doing and there was a reason for the vampires to be aware right until the very end of their alterations.

“Oh? Okay,” replied David. “I’ll see you in the O.R. the day after tomorrow.”

“Sure thing,” said Carl, as he hurried away.

David smiled as his colleague made his swift exit. It was common knowledge that Carl was a little squeamish. Unlike him. He got a thrill out of seeing his patients’ reactions to what was done to them. David was one of the people who had opted for the brain surgery to be the final procedure. He’d lost his wife to a vampire attack and if he could make the vampires that were being adapted feel fear and pain then that was fine by him.

A soft moan signalled that the vampire was coming around from the anaesthetic. David smiled grimly. The last time that the vampire had been conscious it had been free.

“Hope you enjoyed the oblivion,” muttered David under his breath. “That’s the only time that you’ll be knocked out for an op.” He did like operating on them when they were awake – much more satisfying.

He had to admit that this vampire was one of the more attractive that he’d operated on. He was positive that it would find a placement as soon as it was certified that it was fit to go. It was a shame that its lovely bleached blond hair would have to go, but its body hair would soon be removed. As David watched, the vampire’s eyes opened. Its vivid blue eyes were unfocussed at first. The vampire brought its hands up to touch the sutures on its throat.

“Welcome back,” sneered David, running his fingers along the bars of the cage.

Spike blinked several times, his body was racked with pain. What the hell happened? Where am I? He shook his head and struggled to focus on the person standing next to the cage where he was held. “What the fuck is going on?” he said. His eyes widened as all that came out of his mouth was a series of growls and snarls.

David laughed.

What have you done? His voice was only heard in his mind, again the only thing that he actually uttered were unintelligible growls. He glared at David and weakly pushed himself up until he was sitting up.

“This is my favourite part,” thought David.

Spike winced as sudden stabs of pain went through his legs. He glanced down at them, and then screamed. The keening howl that he made set off more whines and growls from the other pens in the room. Spike was panting hard and closed his eyes. Not true. Not real.

David rattled the bars again, and Spike lifted his eyes to meet his.

“You won’t hurt anyone again, you filthy demon,” snarled David. “You’ll be put to good use to protecting people for the remainder of your miserable existence.”

Oh, Christ. Spike closed his eyes again.

“Enjoy your day’s rest, and I’ll see you in the O.R. the day after tomorrow. I think you’ll appreciate what I’m going to do. It will make you much more mobile.” David smiled nastily at him once more before leaving the vampire to his thoughts.

Spike kept his eyes closed as David walked away, and until the eerie growling had quietened down. He opened them slowly looking down at his legs. He turned his head to the side as he retched violently at the sight of them. He brought nothing up. He hadn’t fed the night that he had been captured, and he had no idea how long ago that had been. He noticed the line going in to the back of his hand and could feel the fluid being pumped in to him. Spike yanked it out with a whine. He shuddered as he heard the sound that he had made.

Hesitantly, he looked at his legs again. He hadn’t been mistaken. It hadn’t been an illusion. His legs were gone. His thighs ended not at his knee but at a matching pair of white bandages, shortening them by half of their length. He roared with anger and terror, his face taking on its demonic features in his distress. Spike banged his hands against the bars of the cage. More growls and howls joined his own.

“For God’s sake quiet down!” a voice yelled. Almost immediately, all the noise apart from what Spike was making cut off and Spike could hear footsteps approaching.

Unsurprisingly, the figure stopped at Spike’s cage. “Thought that it would be you setting them off. It’s always the new ones.”

Spike glared and bared his fangs at the overweight man who had spoken.

“You’ve ripped the line out,” said the technician with a sigh.

Why they didn’t listen to him and just tie the beasts’ hands from the start, he’d never know. He pushed the stun baton between the bars of the cage. Spike painfully shuffled backwards but the cage was too small to enable him to get out of range. The baton made contact on his genitals, Spike howled, a spasm ran through his body and he fell unconscious. The tech chuckled. He knew that he’d get another warning if his superiors caught him shocking them on their balls but it was worth the risk just to hear that howl! He opened the cage, glad that they were fixed at waist height. It made accessing them so much easier. He swiftly reinserted the line into the vein on the back of Spike’s right hand, and increased the flow rate to make the day’s supply of nutrients get in to the vampire as quickly as possible.

The tech fastened a magically strengthened cord around Spike’s right wrist, and tied it to the top of the cage. The top of it was low enough so that Spike was still laid flat on his back once his hand was secured. His left hand was fastened to the side of the cage to ensure that he couldn’t tear the line out again. There was no reason for Spike’s right hand to be fastened to the top of the cage apart from the fact that it would be uncomfortable for him once he woke up.

The tech lightly slapped Spike’s face before he closed the cage door. “Don’t make too much noise when you wake up, eh?”

He slammed the door shut and walked back along the line of pens. The vampires within them were in various stages of being remodelled for their future jobs. The tech was aware of baleful yellow eyed stares as he went by. One snarled at him, and so the tech swiftly jabbed it with the stun baton, the creature gave a low howl and collapsed. Most of the others cowered towards the backs of their cages.


Several hours later, Spike came around again. He panted unhappily as he realised how he’d been tied up. He tried to tug his right hand free but to no avail. He managed to pull himself up until he was sitting. For the first time, he took in the cage in which he was imprisoned. The top of it was just a few inches above his head when he was sitting and he guessed that it was about three feet wide and four feet long. A tear slipped down his face as he saw the stumps of his legs.

Don’t need it to be any longer to be able to stretch out, do I?

He began to sob uncontrollably, his snuffles sounding inhuman even to his own ears. Whatever they intended to do to him; it obviously meant that being able to talk and communicate wasn’t a priority. Spike tried to remember how he had come to be here, but all that he knew was that he had been stalking some prey in a Sunnydale park and had been hit from behind by something. He never saw what. He could remember thinking that the ground was coming up to meet him and that it was going to hurt but had lost consciousness before the impact. Then he’d woken up here. Captive and mutilated. Contrary to popular belief, a vampire could not re-grow a severed limb. It could heal even the most badly damaged, but the only part that a vampire could regenerate was its fangs.

The pain that he had felt earlier had almost gone. Whatever it was that they were pumping in to him, it certainly was helping the healing along. He tried to bite at the line, to pull it out again, but couldn’t get to it. He growled with frustration.


Time had no meaning to Spike. He had no idea of how long he’d been here. He had no idea how long he’d been awake after being hit with the stun baton. He had heard footsteps and the rattle of cage doors being opened and closed. The growls and whines that he heard, told Spike that others’ voices had had the same treatment as his had.

What the hell is going on here?

He surprised himself by dozing from time to time. He was woken when the empty bag attached to his drip was changed for a full one. It was the same overweight tech that had shocked him earlier. Spike hated the fact that he leant back as far as he could when he saw the tech.

“It’s all right, go back to sleep. You’re not scheduled for surgery until tomorrow morning. Got to make sure that your legs are fully healed first.”

Spike shuddered. Surgery? More surgery? He tried to yell, to ask where he was and what was going to happen, but he was unable to do more than growl. The tech was unfazed. He’d heard it all before. The difference with this one was its expressive blue eyes remained blue – the creature didn’t vamp out as soon as he saw him, like most did. He didn’t like it. He thrust the baton at the vampire and was pleased to see the features finally change. He gave it a shock, just enough to hurt but not to render it unconscious. It let out a high pitched yelp and bared its fangs.

“Settle down. You’re one of the lucky ones,” said the tech as he left Spike alone once more.

Spike glanced at his legs. He didn’t feel very lucky.


Somehow, Spike knew when the footsteps he heard were going to stop at his cage. The bag of fluids was empty, and so he reckoned another day must have gone by. He was in no pain at all. No real pain anyway – weirdly he’d been plagued for a time with pain in his feet. The feet that were no longer attached to his body. Three men stopped when they reached his cage. He recognised one as being the first person that he had seen when he woke up. The other two were dressed in the same dark blue lab coat that the tech who had attended his drip had worn. Behind them was a hospital gurney. His time had obviously come. He growled as ferociously as he could, letting his features morph. To his disappointment, none of the men so much as blinked.

The cage door opened and one of the techs leaned in and thrust a hood over Spike’s head. Pulling a drawstring tightly around his neck. The cloth was so dense that it was completely dark and it muffled Spike’s hearing too. He struggled as he felt his hands being untied but it was useless. He was soon strapped down on the gurney and wheeled out of the room.

The hood was unfastened and pulled off after he had been lifted on to another surface. He blinked several times as a bright light seared his eyes. They watered for several minutes but when he could finally see, it was clear that he was in an operating theatre.

“Ah, hello again. Sorry about the hood but we didn’t want you to see the others in the pens. It would spoil your surprise,” said Dave, smiling at him. “I’m sure that you’ll appreciate the improvements that I’m going to do.”

Spike snarled. Fuck off you sick bastard.

“Oh? Really?” replied David, as if he had actually heard Spike’s thoughts. “Don’t you want to be able to walk again?”

Spike glanced up sharply. What the hell did he mean? Why cut off his legs if only to replace them? He thought of Frankenstein’s monster. Was he destined to end up like that? He began to shake.

“Oh, don’t be afraid – it won’t hurt much – it will hurt a lot. But this time tomorrow you will be mobile again.” David thrust a gag between Spike’s lips. “I can’t concentrate with all the howling that you’d inevitably make.” The strap was pulled tight and then Spike’s head was strapped down so that all that he could see was the ceiling.

David walked over to a gurney to the side of the room. He’d spent the previous day working on the limbs that he was about to attach to the subject. He checked the articulation of the metal joint on each limb, ensuring that they moved easily and smoothly. Below the joint was part of the amputated limb, including the foot, that had been harvested from the subject. After trying a totally artificial limb for a long time, they had now proved that using part of the subject’s own body worked the best. Both from the length of time that the limb lasted and by the way the subject adapted to it. They had had no instances of them being torn off since they had incorporated the vampire’s own flesh.

“Take the bandages of the legs,” he ordered as he approached Spike holding a leg in his hands.

Two nurses leapt in to action and prepped Spike’s stumps ready for the attachments. Spike tried to raise his head to see what was going to happen to him, but he couldn’t. He whined piteously around the gag.

Spike lost consciousness several times during the course of the surgery. The moments that he was wake were filled with pain and his attempts to scream. David, to his credit, worked diligently and professionally whether Spike was awake and trying to pull free of his restraints or whether he was limp and unresponsive. The trickiest part of the procedure was ensuring that the nerves and tendons to the lower limb and foot were attached properly. But he had perfected the technique of running them through the titanium joint in a narrow tube. Scraping a needle along the underside of the foot once attached told him whether it had taken or not. If the toes curled, then it was a success.

Carl joined David in the O.R. as David was just about to work on the right leg. The left already complete.

“Hi, Carl. How are you doing?” said David cheerfully. “He’s out for the count at the moment.”

“Good, thanks. That looks like it went perfectly,” replied Carl as he looked at Spike’s new left leg. “Do you mind…?” He gestured at the limb.

“Of course not.”

Carl picked up the leg and bent it at its joints. “You’ve remodelled the ankle slightly, I see.”

“Yes, had to get a better angle on it. His movement will be natural and easy. It was something that we had to address after the first few subjects.”

Carl nodded. “Well, I’ll start my stuff now. Can I have his hands prepped, please?

The nurses swabbed Spike’s hands and set a tray of instruments out ready for Carl to use. As he picked up Spike’s left hand, he felt it grip his own. He gritted his teeth and resolutely didn’t look the vampire in the eye. He hated them being awake. Carl picked up some bone shears – essentially a strong pair of scissors and methodically cut off each finger at the first joint from the knuckles. He first incised the skin a little higher than where he was going to cut, and pulled the flash back. This was to ensure that he had enough skin to cover the stumps of the digits. The thumbs were cut off as close to the hand as possible. They were no longer required. The last thing they wanted was for the creatures to be able to pick things up. Carl was glad that the wrist was securely fastened as Spike desperately tried to pull his hands away whilst Carl worked on them.

Five hours after being taken to the O.R. and Spike was returned to his cage. His hands securely bound with bandages, the top of an intravenous catheter stuck out through the bandaging so that the required fluids could be given. This time his hand was strapped to the bars before he was left. It was essential that the fluid get in to the subject as quickly as possible, to ensure that the magics invoked to assist in the attachment of the lower limbs, worked effectively.

Spike mercifully had lost consciousness for the last couple of hours. He worried the techs by not waking for a further six hours. Spike woke slowly, trying to cling to the oblivion. The first thing that he became aware of was of pain. A high pitched whine escaped his lips as he moved his legs. His legs! He glanced down to see what had been done to him. His face split in to a grin as he saw his feet once more where they should be. He wiggled his toes and although the pain made his vision blur for a moment, they responded immediately. He stretched his legs out and then froze.

What the fuck?

He felt panic rising in him and howled at the top of his lungs. He kicked at the bars with his legs. Each movement making him panic even more. His legs were shorter than they had been and were articulated backwards. His knees bending like elbows. He suddenly knew what they were doing to him. He should have known when they replaced his speech with growls and howls and yelps. He added whimpers to the list as he looked at his hands. He didn’t need the bandages off to know that the fingers had been amputated. They never intended on him walking upright again. So he didn’t really need fingers any more did he? He curled up in to a ball and waited for someone to come.

Spike opened an eye as he heard someone approaching. He knew by the scent that the person was the one who had worked on his legs. David was holding the stun baton. He didn’t speak; he just detached the line to the catheter. The bag was empty. David freed the hand from the bars and then held the baton near the cage.

“Stand up.”

Spike didn’t move.

“I’ll ask once more – stand up.”

Spike growled at him with as much anger in it as he could muster. He was rewarded with a sharp shock from the baton.

“Stand up, you ignorant creature. Trust me when I tell you that you won’t like where I’ll shock you next time.”

Spike curled his naked body up even tighter, covering his genitals from sight.

Fuck off.

The baton thrust through and hit Spike’s temple. His body went rigid as the force of the shock coursed through his body. He lay panting when it finally passed.

“Want some more? I gotta tell you that it’s more fun for me than it probably is for you,” sneered David.

Spike glared at him, letting his features change to vampiric, but tried to stand. He got another shock for failing to do it quickly enough. His brain was having a hard time adjusting to the fact that his legs didn’t work as they used to. But eventually he managed to stand, though in his mind it felt like he was kneeling on his hands and knees. He glanced at his legs and shuddered as he saw that his feet were flat on the ground. His backside was a little higher than his shoulders. Spike looked at David. The surgeon was obviously delighted at how things were working.

“We’ll soon have you running about just as swiftly as you used to. But you’ll never be mistaken as a human again. You’re how a demon should be,” said David. “I’ll see you again tomorrow – you don’t need a day off – you’ve healed perfectly and the sooner that you’re completed the better.”

Spike went to the very back of the cage. He growled miserably as he discovered that the most comfortable position for him to sit in was sitting on his haunches, he couldn’t sit as he had before – on his arse with his legs in front of him. He dropped down on to his stomach, stretched his arms out and rested his head on them. He cried until he fell asleep.


The next day arrived and Spike was taken to the O.R. for more procedures. This time Carl was there at the start and continued his work on Spike’s hands. Spike drifted in and out of consciousness as he operated on him. He caught a glimpse of his hands when he was turned over on the table but before he could take in what he had seen, he yelped as pain flared in his back as a knife dug in to his flesh. He welcomed the darkness that followed.

He woke, as usual to pain. He glanced fearfully at his hands. At what had been his hands. They were un-bandaged and no longer looked like hands at all. More like paws. They were covered with a flesh coloured skin like substance and had pads bulging from what would have been his palms. He could see that his thumbs were gone. The fingers where reduced to small padded stumps. He flexed his legs, not sure whether to be horrified that it felt natural or not. It still looked terrible to see his legs as they were now. But they did feel like a real part of him. He stood up. The work on his hands meant that his back was now level as he balanced on all fours.

The most pain was coming from the region of his coccyx. He twisted his head to try to see what had been done. He cried out in shock as he saw something protruding from his back. Just above the crack of his arse. He howled uncontrollably. He felt that his mind would snap. How much more would he have to endure? After an hour or so he managed to get a hold on his emotions again. He decided that he would just ignore what he’d seen. If he didn’t look at it again – it wasn’t there – right?

A tech walked to his cage. “Dinner’s ready. I bet you’re hungry.”

Spike lifted his head as the scent of warm blood hit his nose. His features changed unprompted, saliva dripped from the longest fangs. The tech shoved a small bowl through a hatch in to the cage. Spike tried to pick the bowl up to drink from it, but his hands were no longer capable of such dexterity. Even when he tried to balance it between then, he couldn’t do it and it spilled. He glanced up at the tech, eyes pleading for more, as the blood disappeared through the fine mesh of the floor. The tech shook his head.

“Sorry, buddy. You’re still thinking like a human, and not the true demon that you are. I’ll bring some more in a few hours.”

You sodding git! Spike growled as the tech walked away. He licked up the small amount of blood that had got on his hands. His stomach rumbled, not even partially sated by the tiny amount that he had managed to eat.

The two hours before the tech came back seemed a lot longer to Spike.

“You’re not going to waste this are you?” asked the tech. “If you do, I’m not allowed to give you any more until after you’ve been to surgery tomorrow.”

All of Spike’s attention was focussed on the bowl of blood. He smiled a fang-filled smile at the tech, dimly aware of a strange sensation from his rear. He shook his head.

I won’t waste it. I promise. Please give it to me. Please.

The tech smiled. “Aww, that is so cute. They’ve given you a lovely one,” said the tech, glancing at Spike’s rear.

Spike followed his gaze and whined as he saw a long tail waving from side to side. It looked something like a tail that a retriever might have. As he stared balefully at it, it stopped waving and drooped down, resting between his buttocks.

“Don’t be sad, little fella. Everything will be all right.”

Spike snapped and snarled ferociously at the tech.

How can everything be all right? I’ve got a fucking waggy tail!

“Don’t be so aggressive,” admonished the tech, pulling the bowl away from the cage.

No, please! I’ll be quiet.

Spike whined and looked at the tech through his eyelashes, when he smiled he felt the tail begin to wag again. It must be connected somehow. He struggled to keep the smile on his face but he was so hungry.

“There you go,” said the tech as he pushed the bowl in to the cage.

Spike lapped at the blood. It was the first that he’d tasted in so long. He knew that his tail was wagging happily from side to side but at that moment he didn’t care. He just concentrated on getting as much blood in his mouth and not on his face.


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