Spike enters the room and sees Anya, Dawn, Xander and Kennedy fighting the demon.

"Get her out of here. All of you, 'less you want to be all dead and useless," he says.

"Yeah - what are you gonna do?" asks Kennedy.

"What I do best." And then he launches himself at the demon, head first.

Spike grabs the demon by the head and bashes it against the living room wall. Over and over again. It clearly hurts and Spike seems to be doing some serious damage when the demon, apparently having had enough, simply picks him up and throws him through the ceiling. With no one else to defeat, the demon pushes past Kennedy and is gone.

Dawn asks Kennedy, "Are you injured?"

"Just hurt. Don't make a case out of it. How about you?"

Xander replies before Dawn has a chance, "Think we'll live."

"Except maybe Spike," Anya adds, looking up at the hole above them.

Kennedy looks up, too. "Is getting thrown through the ceiling what he does best?"

Dawn says, "I'll go check on him," and she leaves.

*** END OF THE SCRIPTED VERSION *** ONWARDS TO THE FANFICTION CONTINUENCE***

Dawn is a bit nervous as she ascends the stairs.

She's not afraid that Spike's not alive because she knows he can take a lot worse than what's just happened. She's seen that plenty of times.

But it's the first time she's been alone with him since that first night and her heart is in her throat. She's missed Spike. Missed his company and his friendship and his bad boy façade. She doesn't think she'll ever get to experience any of it again and it hurts. Back before everything was ruined, they were just the two of them, and he'd felt like a brother, somehow. A really hot one. Well, maybe not a brother, but she hadn't thought of him as what he was, which was a soulless vampire. But he hadn't been a good person. Hadn't been what she thought he was. What she needed him to be. And now less than ever, only in a different way.

She opens the door to her mother's old bedroom. He's in the walk-in closet as she thought he'd be. He's lying with his back towards her and is groaning a bit.

"Hey," she says and her voice is cold because she doesn't know how else to speak to him. "You OK?"

He grunts, but pushes himself up slowly and then stands up, turning around to look at her.

"Yeah," he grinds out. "Just dandy."

He grabs the door frame and sort of pushes himself through it, clearly using the frame for support. Then he leans back against the wall, doing his Spike pose. He's panting a bit.

Obviously, he's in pain, the moron. Who does he think she is? A kid, who doesn't know when someone is trying to hide something from her?

"Sure, I can see that," she replies drily. "Especially with you huffing and not even being able to stand on your own!"

"Hey, I can stand just fine," he insists and pushes himself off of the wall. He raises an eyebrow. "See?"

"Right. I can tell that you're hurting, so stop pretending."

He quirks his lips a bit and leans back against the wall.

"Yeah, well… did Kennedy get it?"

"No. It took off once it had thrown you through the ceiling."

"Yeah, bugger was stronger that I'd have thought. But at least it must have a helluva headache by now. Well then, let's go downstairs and make sure it doesn't return."

He turns his head and looks at the damage inside the closet. He sighs.

"I'm sorry this happened in your mum's old room, Nib.. Dawn." He clears his throat uncomfortably and dips his head, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. "It's a good thing Harris's so handy with a hammer, but…"

He sighs and his shoulders slump and suddenly Dawn just wants it all to be two years ago, back when Spike was her best friend and Mom was alive and Buffy hadn't died. She just wishes this whole stupid world wasn't blowing up right in front of her again without her even having truly lived in it or loved anyone or told Spike that she's happy he's back. That she's forgiven him.

Her eyes brim with tears and she can't see properly and she angrily wipes them away. It's just so unfair!

"Dawn?" His voice is close and sounds concerned. Worried. Caring.

She looks up at him, her lips quivering as more tears run down her cheeks.

"Oh, Niblet," he says and he lifts his hands towards her but they just hang there all impotently and she knows he doesn't dare to touch her and she knows why. There are tears in his eyes, too, she sees. Spike is crying because of everything that's gone wrong and it breaks the last barriers down inside her. She throws herself into his arms and flings her own around him and buries her face into his shirt.

"Spike," she says. "I'm so sorry. I've missed you so much. I just didn't know what to do. And when I saw you that first time, I was just so mad at you, and…"

She can't speak another word and just sobs into his shirt making it wet with tears and watery snot, and she feels so childish, but it's alright because Spike's arms tighten around her. It feels so good and safe here in his arms and it's okay that he sees her like this. He's seen her cry so many times, so it's not like it's really embarrassing or anything.

She knows, standing there, that he's long since forgiven her for being so hostile. That he's probably never thought ill of her. And it's such a relief.

He kisses her hair gently and rocks them a bit to and fro, and she sighs happily. No one's been doing that for her since Mom died. She turns her head away from the wet spot and sniffs and rests her other cheek against his chest. Spike's so solid even though they are almost the same height. He is also very different. Mature.

She doesn't think they can be friends again. But they can be something and that feels really good to know.

The end.