AUTHOR NOTES: Set early in an alternative season 6. I haven't seen the season yet, so all I used is the "Buffy is back from the dead" thread. Wouldn't have been much of a story otherwise, would it? Unbetaed, and although I've gone over it with a fine-toothed comb, I'd appreciate a heads-up if you find any errors.
VERTIGO
CHAPTER 1
"Dammit, Dawn," Buffy murmured below her breath. "Where are you?" She pushed the curtain aside to peer out across Revello Drive for the tenth time in as many minutes. Outside, the last of the summer's evening light was fading fast from the sky, coloring it a deep blue before turning black. While she watched, the streetlights came on, casting circles of yellow light on the pavement.
The backdoor slammed shut. "Snack size ready for a good round of rummy?" Spike's voice drifted in from the kitchen. A moment later he entered the living room, shrouded in darkness, and caught sight of Buffy standing at the window. He switched on a light. "Something the matter, Slayer?"
"No. Yes. Dawn. She knows she's supposed to be home before sunset. Tell me, does it look like it's still day out?" Angrily she pointed at the dark street.
"Nope," Spike agreed. "Good thing too. Or I'd've been dust."
"She knows I worry about her," Buffy continued as if Spike hadn't said a word. She squinted through the window before she continued. "Sometimes I think she does it on purpose, to torture me."
Spike chuckled. "Don't worry your pretty head, Slayer, she probably ran into a couple of boys and--" His voice broke off in a low growl. "On second thought, the Bit better not!"
It was Buffy's turn to chuckle at the clear protectiveness in Spike's voice. "Face it, buster, she's going to start dating soon. Whether you agree with it or not."
A further growl was her answer. Buffy pitied the boys, who would try to pursue her younger sister. No father could have been more difficult to deal with than the vampire that had sworn to protect the girl.
The amused smile faded from her face at the memory of the battle with Glory.
"If something happens to her..." Buffy drew a breath. "Did you see the paper? Four girls disappeared in the last two nights. Without a trace. They were Dawn's age too." She sighed. "I wish Giles was in town. Or at least Willow. I don't have a clue if it's of the supernatural!"
"Right," Spike said. "Want me to go look for Lil' Bit then?" He didn't sound overly worried. Buffy couldn't blame him. Life on the Hellmouth had been quiet since the gang defeated Glory and brought her back from the dead. And it was the height of summer. Long days, short nights; not evil's favorite season. Still, plenty of bad guys of the human variety out there, who could hurt a girl like Dawn.
"Yes. I have to get ready to patrol."
Spike pulled away to grab the duster that he had left in the kitchen and Buffy turned back to look out once more. Something teenager-sized came racing up the street, scrambled across the front lawn and bolted up the steps to the front door. Buffy had moved at the first sign of the girl and was ready to fling the door open.
"Dawn! Where the hell--"
The words froze on her tongue. The girl who came tearing into the house as if the devil was on her heels wasn't her younger sister. "Janice?"
"Buf... Buffy..." Dawn's friend gasped, struggling to draw breath. "He... Dawn... Knife... Got her..."
Buffy clenched her fists at her side, forcing herself not to grab the girl by the shoulders and shake the information out of her. "What? What are you saying, Janice? Somebody got Dawn?"
Janice nodded, her chest still heaving with ragged gasps.
"Who's got Dawn?"
Janice looked up at the sound of Spike's snarl. Her eyes grew wide like saucers and she uttered a frightened whimper. Buffy glanced over her shoulder to see Spike, in full vamp face, loom behind her, golden eyes glinting dangerously.
"Spike, you're not helping," she told him. His eyes sought hers, for a moment confused. Then, a bit sheepish, he shook off his gameface.
"Sorry 'bout that, kitten," he told Janice. "Now, you were saying?"
Janice swallowed down her fear and managed to get some of her breath back. She told them in clipped sentences, "We were walking down Main Street. Dawn worried you'd be mad. Because we were late, see. Then there was this man. He... he had this knife...." Tears welled in her eyes while she kept her hands about a foot apart to indicate the length of the knife. "He grabbed Dawn and..." Her voice broke.
"This man," Spike asked, "did he look like m-- Did you notice anything strange about his face?"
Janice cast another anxious glance at Spike and shook her head. "He... he had a beard..." She raised her head and met Buffy's gaze. "I couldn't do anything to help Dawn. Honest!"
"Shh," Buffy hushed her, trying to stay calm for the girl's sake despite the cold slug of fear that slithered through her insides. "It's okay. You did good. You came here. That's the best way to help Dawn."
"Do you know where he took her?" Spike asked.
Janice nodded. "I... I followed them. I can show you."
"No," Buffy said. "You better tell us. Then we take you home and go find Dawn."
* * *
Ten long minutes later Janice had been dropped off into her parents' care. Vampire and slayer were slinking along the dark Sunnydale streets in the direction of the dilapidated house that the girl had described to them.
"What do you think they want with Dawn?" Buffy asked, suppressed worry in her voice. "I mean, she's no longer a key to anything, is she?"
"Buggered if I know, pet," Spike replied. "That whole business with the bleedin' knife... doesn't sound like a demon to me."
"Me either," Buffy agreed with a sigh. A car whooshed past, filled with late night shoppers intent on returning to the safety of their homes as soon as possible. The moon was full overhead, casting everything in a silver, unreal light.
"Buffy," Spike said softly, "If they're human, I won't--"
"I know," she cut in. "I'll handle it. You just get Dawn out of there alive."
"Right."
Not another word was spoken between them until they reached the house. It was as Janice described it: a roof that missed half its shingles, paint that flaked, and most of the front windows broken. The door hung crookedly on its hinges. Voices drifted out across the weed-filled lawn.
"Okay," said a gruff male. "I kept up my end of the bargain. Five virgins. Now pay up."
"Not yet," answered another, more guttural voice. Buffy exchanged a glance with Spike. 'Demon?' that look said. The voice had an odd inhuman quality to it. Spike bared his fangs in anticipation while he nodded. He couldn't wait to tell whatever demon was inside how he felt about them kidnapping the Nibblet. He promised to protect her 'til the end of the world and bloody hell, that's what he would do!
"We don't know yet if they're true virgins," the demon continued. "Times have changed since I last performed this ritual."
"You won't get to do your ritual, anyway," Dawn's voice squeaked. Spike's heart swelled with pride. That's my girl, he thought. Frightened, yet still keeping up her courage. "Don't you know who I am? You picked the wrong girl to mess with. My sister will be here soon and she'll--"
"Silence!" the demon voice roared.
Buffy and Spike crawled up on the porch and squatted beneath the window. They peeked cautiously over the sill and took stock of the situation in the room. Should be easy, Spike thought. One human, the bearded guy Janice had described, and a fat, ugly, seven-foot demon of a species he didn't recognize right away. When he found Dawn's pale and frightened eyes looking out from the corner of the room his fists ached to connect with the flabby gray flesh of the creature.
Buffy gestured at Spike to go ahead. He didn't need more encouragement. With an unearthly roar, he shifted fully into gameface and charged through the half-opened door, bowling straight into the demon.
He knocked the creature over and it crashed to the ground. The withered floorboards creaked under the abuse. Spike rolled and was back on his feet before Fatty figured out what hit it. The thing was big but not very fast. The vampire kicked at its ribs, boot sinking deep into fat rolls of flesh. He was rewarded with a deep guttural howl of pain. Spike dislodged his foot and drew back for another kick. This time, Fatty had recovered somewhat and it grabbed Spike's ankle, throwing him off balance. Spike landed with a thud on top of the demon. With an 'oomph', a wave of foul air rushed from the creature's lungs. Silently, Spike thanked his lucky stars he didn't need oxygen, or breathing the foul air would have been enough to knock him out.
He wrapped his hands around the thick neck of the demon, his fingers sinking deep into its flabby flesh, and twisted.
"Buffyyy!!"
The instant Spike snapped Fatty's neck, Dawn's shriek pierced the air. Without looking where the creature's limp body fell, he jumped up and spun in the girl's direction, ready to fight of her attacker.
She squatted alone in the corner. Her eyes were wide, horrified, goggling. He followed her line of sight and hissed in a shocked breath.
Vampiric reflexes deserted him. With growing horror he could only watch, as Buffy's knees slowly buckled, no longer supporting her body. A long handle protruded from her belly; the tip of the knife peeked out of her back. Her attacker, Beardguy, grinned, under the influence of a spell or drugs or human malice.
So this was what it came down to in the end, Spike thought dimly as Buffy's body landed on the floor with a soft bump that was nevertheless as loud as a thunderclap in the still air. After Red delved into the deepest of black magicks to bring her back, after he himself had tried to kill her countless times until he lost all desire to, she died at the hand of a crazed human with a lucky streak. It shouldn't be possible. She was the bleedin' Slayer, dammit! Yet here she was, blood bubbling on her lips while her eyes sought Spike's.
Her mouth moved as she whispered. "Somebody had a good day."
Spike began to shake his head. No. No. Not here, not now, not again. Not like this. "NO!!" he roared and without thinking he leapt for the human. The chip fired up before he even reached Buffy's killer and this time Spike embraced the white-hot pain that tore through his brain. A splitting headache sweetened by the bitter taste of revenge was preferable over the agony of a broken heart. He reached Beardguy, who was beginning to grow aware of the mortal danger he was in, with a vampire bent on revenge and his one weapon embedded in the slayer's body. He never had time to react though. One pale hand wrapped in the murderer's lanky hair, wrenching his head sideways, exposing the neck. Ignoring the chip's constant assault, Spike sank his fangs into the warm flesh, the blood spouting forward and filling his mouth. Yet it didn't satisfy. Not one bit. This wasn't feeding; this was revenge, plain and simple.
The chip fired up again and again, sending sparks of electricity through his head until at last the vampire's brain short-circuited and he crumpled prostrate over his victim's body.
* * *
Muffled sobs and hitched breathing woke Spike from his chip-induced slumber. How long had he been out? It couldn't be more than a few minutes. The blood on his lips was moist and warm. His head was subject to a killer migraine but Spike forgot all about the pain when his memories kicked back in.
Buffy!
He rolled over, pushing the dead guy away from him. Dawn sat sobbing, Buffy's head in her lap. The slayer was still alive, her breathing irregular and painful. Dawn had removed the long knife. Not the smartest of things but under the circumstances Spike didn't think it would make much of a difference. Buffy was dying. A regular human would have passed away minutes ago. Only her slayer-strength enabled her to hang on just a little longer.
"Spike! Do something!"
Spike crawled over to the two sisters, uncaring about the splinters from the broken door that sliced his palms. Tears burned behind his eyelids and his throat felt strangely constricted, as if the blood he drank had congealed within.
"Nothing I can do, pet," he murmured, reaching out a hand to brush a blond lock from Buffy's face but withdrawing before he touched her. It was déjà vu all over again. The day he feared, the day he had known would come again eventually, had arrived. He had hoped, prayed to whatever deity might listen, that it would be many years from now, but here it was: he was going to watch Buffy die. Again.
"There has to be something we can do!" Dawn wailed. "We... we can take her to the hospital. Yes. Hospital is good. They'll fix her up."
Spike shook his head, sadly. "The hospital is too bloody far," he replied, gruffer than he had intended. "I'm sorry, pet."
Buffy's eyes fluttered open and after a moment they settled on Spike's face. "Spike..." she breathed.
"Yes, luv?" He leaned forward to better hear her.
"Take... care... of Dawn."
"Always, Buffy. Always." Spike was mindless of the tears that were dripping down his cheeks, the salty taste mingling with the aftertaste of the blood when they reached the corners of his mouth.
Buffy's lips quirked into a soft smile, and her eyes drifted shut again. Was she dead?
When Spike concentrated he could still make out her heartbeat, irregular and weak. Not yet. Not much longer now, though. It was a matter of seconds, not minutes.
"This can't be happening," Dawn sobbed. "Not again."
My thoughts exactly, Little Bit, Spike thought. Yet, here it was.
"First Mom, then Buffy... Now Buffy again? I can't do this, Spike. I can't go through it again. And I won't."
Something in her voice made him look up and meet her gaze. Hell. He recognized the determined glint that had come into her eyes as the Summers' stubbornness. What crazy idea had the Nibblet come up with? He'd be scrambling for the chance to save Buffy, if any existed. He'd pay any price, gladly, just to see her open her eyes and sit back up, to hear the flippant remark she had no doubt prepared for just such an occasion.
"You can help her, Spike," Dawn said. "Your blood--"
He began shaking his head when her implication filtered through. "No!" he cut in, eyes widening in horror at the thought. "I won't. I won't do that to her."
"You have to, Spike!" Dawn cried. Her voice caught. "You have to. Or I'll..." She glanced around quickly and before he could stop her she made a grab for the discarded knife. "Or I'll kill myself." She turned the knife, planted the tip on top of her heart. Her voice quavered, but her hand was steady.
"Dawn, put that down," Spike said. "Big sis deserves better than to be turned into a monster like me."
"You're not a monster." Dawn took a step back as soon as Spike took a step forward. "I will do it, Spike. If Buffy's gone, I have nobody left. I'll be all alone."
"You're not," he rebutted. "You have the Scoobies, me."
"You're not my sister," she said stubbornly. "You're not... Buffy." She pressed the knife harder against her shirt. The quick wince that flitted across her face and the heady smell of her blood in the air told Spike she had broken skin. He glanced back over his shoulder at Buffy.
God knows he was tempted. He didn't want to lose Buffy any more than Dawn did. But he could he do what her sister wanted? She'd hate it. Hate him forever. And forever was a damn long time. What to do? Turn one to save the other? Or lose them both? Dawn could be just as stubborn as Buffy if she had set her mind to something. And Spike knew she would be true to her word.
"Hurry up, Spike," Dawn said. "We're running out of time."
It was the cold, adult determination in her voice that decided the issue. With a pained growl Spike shifted into game face and tore the vein at his wrist. He knelt next to Buffy's body, pried open her lower lip and let the blood drip onto her tongue. She was unconscious from bloodloss but her body reacted instinctively. She swallowed. He pressed his wrist against her mouth and felt her suck the blood from his veins. May the Gods forgive him. Because the slayer never would.
TBC
DISCLAIMER: this story is based on the Mutant Enemy/UPN/Twentieth Century Fox Television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer. All characters belong to their original creators. The story was written for entertainment only and no copyright infringement was intended.
VERTIGO
CHAPTER 1
"Dammit, Dawn," Buffy murmured below her breath. "Where are you?" She pushed the curtain aside to peer out across Revello Drive for the tenth time in as many minutes. Outside, the last of the summer's evening light was fading fast from the sky, coloring it a deep blue before turning black. While she watched, the streetlights came on, casting circles of yellow light on the pavement.
The backdoor slammed shut. "Snack size ready for a good round of rummy?" Spike's voice drifted in from the kitchen. A moment later he entered the living room, shrouded in darkness, and caught sight of Buffy standing at the window. He switched on a light. "Something the matter, Slayer?"
"No. Yes. Dawn. She knows she's supposed to be home before sunset. Tell me, does it look like it's still day out?" Angrily she pointed at the dark street.
"Nope," Spike agreed. "Good thing too. Or I'd've been dust."
"She knows I worry about her," Buffy continued as if Spike hadn't said a word. She squinted through the window before she continued. "Sometimes I think she does it on purpose, to torture me."
Spike chuckled. "Don't worry your pretty head, Slayer, she probably ran into a couple of boys and--" His voice broke off in a low growl. "On second thought, the Bit better not!"
It was Buffy's turn to chuckle at the clear protectiveness in Spike's voice. "Face it, buster, she's going to start dating soon. Whether you agree with it or not."
A further growl was her answer. Buffy pitied the boys, who would try to pursue her younger sister. No father could have been more difficult to deal with than the vampire that had sworn to protect the girl.
The amused smile faded from her face at the memory of the battle with Glory.
"If something happens to her..." Buffy drew a breath. "Did you see the paper? Four girls disappeared in the last two nights. Without a trace. They were Dawn's age too." She sighed. "I wish Giles was in town. Or at least Willow. I don't have a clue if it's of the supernatural!"
"Right," Spike said. "Want me to go look for Lil' Bit then?" He didn't sound overly worried. Buffy couldn't blame him. Life on the Hellmouth had been quiet since the gang defeated Glory and brought her back from the dead. And it was the height of summer. Long days, short nights; not evil's favorite season. Still, plenty of bad guys of the human variety out there, who could hurt a girl like Dawn.
"Yes. I have to get ready to patrol."
Spike pulled away to grab the duster that he had left in the kitchen and Buffy turned back to look out once more. Something teenager-sized came racing up the street, scrambled across the front lawn and bolted up the steps to the front door. Buffy had moved at the first sign of the girl and was ready to fling the door open.
"Dawn! Where the hell--"
The words froze on her tongue. The girl who came tearing into the house as if the devil was on her heels wasn't her younger sister. "Janice?"
"Buf... Buffy..." Dawn's friend gasped, struggling to draw breath. "He... Dawn... Knife... Got her..."
Buffy clenched her fists at her side, forcing herself not to grab the girl by the shoulders and shake the information out of her. "What? What are you saying, Janice? Somebody got Dawn?"
Janice nodded, her chest still heaving with ragged gasps.
"Who's got Dawn?"
Janice looked up at the sound of Spike's snarl. Her eyes grew wide like saucers and she uttered a frightened whimper. Buffy glanced over her shoulder to see Spike, in full vamp face, loom behind her, golden eyes glinting dangerously.
"Spike, you're not helping," she told him. His eyes sought hers, for a moment confused. Then, a bit sheepish, he shook off his gameface.
"Sorry 'bout that, kitten," he told Janice. "Now, you were saying?"
Janice swallowed down her fear and managed to get some of her breath back. She told them in clipped sentences, "We were walking down Main Street. Dawn worried you'd be mad. Because we were late, see. Then there was this man. He... he had this knife...." Tears welled in her eyes while she kept her hands about a foot apart to indicate the length of the knife. "He grabbed Dawn and..." Her voice broke.
"This man," Spike asked, "did he look like m-- Did you notice anything strange about his face?"
Janice cast another anxious glance at Spike and shook her head. "He... he had a beard..." She raised her head and met Buffy's gaze. "I couldn't do anything to help Dawn. Honest!"
"Shh," Buffy hushed her, trying to stay calm for the girl's sake despite the cold slug of fear that slithered through her insides. "It's okay. You did good. You came here. That's the best way to help Dawn."
"Do you know where he took her?" Spike asked.
Janice nodded. "I... I followed them. I can show you."
"No," Buffy said. "You better tell us. Then we take you home and go find Dawn."
* * *
Ten long minutes later Janice had been dropped off into her parents' care. Vampire and slayer were slinking along the dark Sunnydale streets in the direction of the dilapidated house that the girl had described to them.
"What do you think they want with Dawn?" Buffy asked, suppressed worry in her voice. "I mean, she's no longer a key to anything, is she?"
"Buggered if I know, pet," Spike replied. "That whole business with the bleedin' knife... doesn't sound like a demon to me."
"Me either," Buffy agreed with a sigh. A car whooshed past, filled with late night shoppers intent on returning to the safety of their homes as soon as possible. The moon was full overhead, casting everything in a silver, unreal light.
"Buffy," Spike said softly, "If they're human, I won't--"
"I know," she cut in. "I'll handle it. You just get Dawn out of there alive."
"Right."
Not another word was spoken between them until they reached the house. It was as Janice described it: a roof that missed half its shingles, paint that flaked, and most of the front windows broken. The door hung crookedly on its hinges. Voices drifted out across the weed-filled lawn.
"Okay," said a gruff male. "I kept up my end of the bargain. Five virgins. Now pay up."
"Not yet," answered another, more guttural voice. Buffy exchanged a glance with Spike. 'Demon?' that look said. The voice had an odd inhuman quality to it. Spike bared his fangs in anticipation while he nodded. He couldn't wait to tell whatever demon was inside how he felt about them kidnapping the Nibblet. He promised to protect her 'til the end of the world and bloody hell, that's what he would do!
"We don't know yet if they're true virgins," the demon continued. "Times have changed since I last performed this ritual."
"You won't get to do your ritual, anyway," Dawn's voice squeaked. Spike's heart swelled with pride. That's my girl, he thought. Frightened, yet still keeping up her courage. "Don't you know who I am? You picked the wrong girl to mess with. My sister will be here soon and she'll--"
"Silence!" the demon voice roared.
Buffy and Spike crawled up on the porch and squatted beneath the window. They peeked cautiously over the sill and took stock of the situation in the room. Should be easy, Spike thought. One human, the bearded guy Janice had described, and a fat, ugly, seven-foot demon of a species he didn't recognize right away. When he found Dawn's pale and frightened eyes looking out from the corner of the room his fists ached to connect with the flabby gray flesh of the creature.
Buffy gestured at Spike to go ahead. He didn't need more encouragement. With an unearthly roar, he shifted fully into gameface and charged through the half-opened door, bowling straight into the demon.
He knocked the creature over and it crashed to the ground. The withered floorboards creaked under the abuse. Spike rolled and was back on his feet before Fatty figured out what hit it. The thing was big but not very fast. The vampire kicked at its ribs, boot sinking deep into fat rolls of flesh. He was rewarded with a deep guttural howl of pain. Spike dislodged his foot and drew back for another kick. This time, Fatty had recovered somewhat and it grabbed Spike's ankle, throwing him off balance. Spike landed with a thud on top of the demon. With an 'oomph', a wave of foul air rushed from the creature's lungs. Silently, Spike thanked his lucky stars he didn't need oxygen, or breathing the foul air would have been enough to knock him out.
He wrapped his hands around the thick neck of the demon, his fingers sinking deep into its flabby flesh, and twisted.
"Buffyyy!!"
The instant Spike snapped Fatty's neck, Dawn's shriek pierced the air. Without looking where the creature's limp body fell, he jumped up and spun in the girl's direction, ready to fight of her attacker.
She squatted alone in the corner. Her eyes were wide, horrified, goggling. He followed her line of sight and hissed in a shocked breath.
Vampiric reflexes deserted him. With growing horror he could only watch, as Buffy's knees slowly buckled, no longer supporting her body. A long handle protruded from her belly; the tip of the knife peeked out of her back. Her attacker, Beardguy, grinned, under the influence of a spell or drugs or human malice.
So this was what it came down to in the end, Spike thought dimly as Buffy's body landed on the floor with a soft bump that was nevertheless as loud as a thunderclap in the still air. After Red delved into the deepest of black magicks to bring her back, after he himself had tried to kill her countless times until he lost all desire to, she died at the hand of a crazed human with a lucky streak. It shouldn't be possible. She was the bleedin' Slayer, dammit! Yet here she was, blood bubbling on her lips while her eyes sought Spike's.
Her mouth moved as she whispered. "Somebody had a good day."
Spike began to shake his head. No. No. Not here, not now, not again. Not like this. "NO!!" he roared and without thinking he leapt for the human. The chip fired up before he even reached Buffy's killer and this time Spike embraced the white-hot pain that tore through his brain. A splitting headache sweetened by the bitter taste of revenge was preferable over the agony of a broken heart. He reached Beardguy, who was beginning to grow aware of the mortal danger he was in, with a vampire bent on revenge and his one weapon embedded in the slayer's body. He never had time to react though. One pale hand wrapped in the murderer's lanky hair, wrenching his head sideways, exposing the neck. Ignoring the chip's constant assault, Spike sank his fangs into the warm flesh, the blood spouting forward and filling his mouth. Yet it didn't satisfy. Not one bit. This wasn't feeding; this was revenge, plain and simple.
The chip fired up again and again, sending sparks of electricity through his head until at last the vampire's brain short-circuited and he crumpled prostrate over his victim's body.
* * *
Muffled sobs and hitched breathing woke Spike from his chip-induced slumber. How long had he been out? It couldn't be more than a few minutes. The blood on his lips was moist and warm. His head was subject to a killer migraine but Spike forgot all about the pain when his memories kicked back in.
Buffy!
He rolled over, pushing the dead guy away from him. Dawn sat sobbing, Buffy's head in her lap. The slayer was still alive, her breathing irregular and painful. Dawn had removed the long knife. Not the smartest of things but under the circumstances Spike didn't think it would make much of a difference. Buffy was dying. A regular human would have passed away minutes ago. Only her slayer-strength enabled her to hang on just a little longer.
"Spike! Do something!"
Spike crawled over to the two sisters, uncaring about the splinters from the broken door that sliced his palms. Tears burned behind his eyelids and his throat felt strangely constricted, as if the blood he drank had congealed within.
"Nothing I can do, pet," he murmured, reaching out a hand to brush a blond lock from Buffy's face but withdrawing before he touched her. It was déjà vu all over again. The day he feared, the day he had known would come again eventually, had arrived. He had hoped, prayed to whatever deity might listen, that it would be many years from now, but here it was: he was going to watch Buffy die. Again.
"There has to be something we can do!" Dawn wailed. "We... we can take her to the hospital. Yes. Hospital is good. They'll fix her up."
Spike shook his head, sadly. "The hospital is too bloody far," he replied, gruffer than he had intended. "I'm sorry, pet."
Buffy's eyes fluttered open and after a moment they settled on Spike's face. "Spike..." she breathed.
"Yes, luv?" He leaned forward to better hear her.
"Take... care... of Dawn."
"Always, Buffy. Always." Spike was mindless of the tears that were dripping down his cheeks, the salty taste mingling with the aftertaste of the blood when they reached the corners of his mouth.
Buffy's lips quirked into a soft smile, and her eyes drifted shut again. Was she dead?
When Spike concentrated he could still make out her heartbeat, irregular and weak. Not yet. Not much longer now, though. It was a matter of seconds, not minutes.
"This can't be happening," Dawn sobbed. "Not again."
My thoughts exactly, Little Bit, Spike thought. Yet, here it was.
"First Mom, then Buffy... Now Buffy again? I can't do this, Spike. I can't go through it again. And I won't."
Something in her voice made him look up and meet her gaze. Hell. He recognized the determined glint that had come into her eyes as the Summers' stubbornness. What crazy idea had the Nibblet come up with? He'd be scrambling for the chance to save Buffy, if any existed. He'd pay any price, gladly, just to see her open her eyes and sit back up, to hear the flippant remark she had no doubt prepared for just such an occasion.
"You can help her, Spike," Dawn said. "Your blood--"
He began shaking his head when her implication filtered through. "No!" he cut in, eyes widening in horror at the thought. "I won't. I won't do that to her."
"You have to, Spike!" Dawn cried. Her voice caught. "You have to. Or I'll..." She glanced around quickly and before he could stop her she made a grab for the discarded knife. "Or I'll kill myself." She turned the knife, planted the tip on top of her heart. Her voice quavered, but her hand was steady.
"Dawn, put that down," Spike said. "Big sis deserves better than to be turned into a monster like me."
"You're not a monster." Dawn took a step back as soon as Spike took a step forward. "I will do it, Spike. If Buffy's gone, I have nobody left. I'll be all alone."
"You're not," he rebutted. "You have the Scoobies, me."
"You're not my sister," she said stubbornly. "You're not... Buffy." She pressed the knife harder against her shirt. The quick wince that flitted across her face and the heady smell of her blood in the air told Spike she had broken skin. He glanced back over his shoulder at Buffy.
God knows he was tempted. He didn't want to lose Buffy any more than Dawn did. But he could he do what her sister wanted? She'd hate it. Hate him forever. And forever was a damn long time. What to do? Turn one to save the other? Or lose them both? Dawn could be just as stubborn as Buffy if she had set her mind to something. And Spike knew she would be true to her word.
"Hurry up, Spike," Dawn said. "We're running out of time."
It was the cold, adult determination in her voice that decided the issue. With a pained growl Spike shifted into game face and tore the vein at his wrist. He knelt next to Buffy's body, pried open her lower lip and let the blood drip onto her tongue. She was unconscious from bloodloss but her body reacted instinctively. She swallowed. He pressed his wrist against her mouth and felt her suck the blood from his veins. May the Gods forgive him. Because the slayer never would.
TBC
DISCLAIMER: this story is based on the Mutant Enemy/UPN/Twentieth Century Fox Television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer. All characters belong to their original creators. The story was written for entertainment only and no copyright infringement was intended.