dawn1upload.html Title: Another Dawn, Chapter 1
Author: Sanguine
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and 20th-Century Fox own these characters. The situations presented here come from my own twisted brain.
Distribution: With permission.
Rating: PG-13
Thanks to Beth at BAPS for inspiring this fic. Thanks to Joss Whedon for writing a thought-provoking show. Thanks to James Marsters for being a fabulous actor.

Spike watched her dance. She was so young, so succulent. Yeah. She'd make a nice trophy, a pretty corpse. Unconsciously his tongue touched his top lip. Just wait. Wait 'til Saturday.

Spike watched her slay. Vampire dust filled the air. So powerful. Mmmm. This was going to be fun. He brought his hands together, applauding her performance.

"Nice work, love."
"Who are you?"
"You'll find out on Saturday."
"What happens on Saturday?"
"I kill you."

Spike never kept his promises.

Spike watched her die. Well, not exactly. He was there though. And he killed her. But it wasn't a Saturday.

Buffy's lips pressed to Spike's. His body ached. His heart ached. He felt like a guilty boy. Guilt. Interesting emotion, that. "And my robot?"

"The robot is gone. The robot was gross and obscene . . . What you did for me and Dawn . . . that was real. I won't forget it."

Spike watched her leave. He did nothing. Absolutely bloody nothing. She's gone and he did nothing.

Spike woke up and felt the burning of his leg, a leg he'd purposely placed so the sun would hit it. Better than a fucking alarm clock. Another dawn. But no Buffy.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Spike took a swig of whiskey. Whiskey was his drink of choice now, even more than blood. Drinking blood made him remember what he was. Drinking whiskey made him forget. He felt the substance burn its way down his esophagus and wished it were real fire. He'd been consumed once. Buffy had done that. Now there was just an empty shell. A shell he wished he could burn and leave as ashes. But he was too much of a wanker. Spike took another swig of whiskey and watched the second hand on the new watch he'd bought. He'd never thought about time before. Now he wanted to watch every passing second of the eternity that was his miserable life. It gave him a masochistic pleasure to consider the second hand, dragging itself along. He wanted to feel every second of pain. He wanted to live every second of his failure.

"I'm counting on you, Spike. To protect her."

"'Til the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Spike roused himself from his drunken stupor. Time to go kill stuff. Had he been able to look in a mirror he would have seen his face, gaunt and pale from lack of blood. He was starving himself. His hair, which he had meticulously bleached every two weeks, was a shaggy blonde-brown mess. He no longer had his duster. He had buried that with Buffy. He didn't want it anymore.

Spike emerged from his crypt and silently prayed to whatever deity he knew didn't exist that he wouldn't see one of the Scoobies. After their last meeting, Spike hoped they'd gotten the message. He didn't want to have anything to do with them. He didn't want anything to do with anything. He just wanted to kill.

And he soon got his wish. A vampire emerged from the earth below him, grabbing his ankle. Crunch. Spike's boot connected with its head. Spike stood back and waited for the vamp to recover. The creature rushed him. Spike's fist connected with his jaw. He felt it break beneath his knuckles. The monster went down. Spike kicked it. And kicked it again. And again. And again. The vampire's head finally detached itself from its body and flew across the cemetery until it hit a gravestone with a wet thud. The vampire turned to dust. Spike was satisfied. Time for a drink.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Spike entered the Bronze. Humans everywhere. He could hear their blood rushing through their veins. It sang to him. He was so hungry and yet the thought of drinking from any one of them was nauseating.

"Guinness, mate."

"Spike you're not gonna cause any trouble in here tonight. If you do, we're gonna ban you."

Spike took a sip of his drink and smiled wryly. "I'll be good. I'm always good."

Ten drinks later Spike was in the alleyway behind the Bronze. This was the alley where he'd seen Buffy fight. Twack. The frat boy's fist connected with his jaw.

"What did you say about my girlfriend?"

Spike licked the blood from his lip and smiled. "I said she was a whore. She offered to shag me you know."

"Liar." Frat boy slammed his meaty fist into Spike's eye socket. Spike felt his eye swelling already. Another black eye . . .
Frat boy's fist connected again, splitting his lip. And again, bruising his cheek.

Spike rushed him, fists flying. As the chip activated, the pain was searing. Just what he wanted.

Spike lay in the alleyway, bleeding and unconscious. Just what he wanted.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Spike?"

"Spike?"

A hand touched his shoulder. "Spike, wake up."

"Buffy?" he murmured. "Luv?"

Willow's eyes filled with tears. "No Spike. It's me and Dawn."

"Go away." His eyes shut in his swollen and deformed face.

"No."

He raised himself up from the stone floor and looked Willow in the eye menacingly. "You don't want to be here."

"Spike, you have to . . ."

Spike pushed Willow away, causing her to fall in a misshapen heap. He clutched his head as the blinding pain punished him.

Willow's eyes turned dark. "That's enough you selfish bastard." Her spell sent Spike slamming into the wall of his crypt.

"Willow, no!" Dawn went to Spike's side. "Don't you see? That's what he wants." Gently she grasped his hand. "Spike. Buffy told us to take care of each other."

Spike could feel the sob well up in the back of his throat. "Buffy also made me promise to protect you. Look what a brilliant job I did of that."

Dawn smiled as the tears streamed down her cheeks. "Well you're kind of sucking at it right now. I haven't seen you for weeks. How can you protect me when you're not even around?"

"Nibblet, I . . ."

Willow interrupted. "Spike, listen. What happened was horrible. But remember what guilt did to Buffy? She believed she'd killed Dawnie and she went all coma-girl on us. We need you."

Spike's shoulders slumped. The silence stretched on for many moments. When he finally responded, his voice was a whisper. "Buffy made me feel like a man, but we all know what I really am."

"What is that Spike?" Willow asked.

Spike heard her pulse increase as she waited for his answer, saw the life rushing through the artery in her neck. "A monster."

"Oh God." Dawn pulled Spike into her arms. "No Spike. It's not true."

Spike completely dissolved into tears. "Yes . . . yes it bloody well is." He looked at Willow. "I was the one who introduced Dawn to Doc. And then he showed up and I couldn't stop him. It's all my fault."

Willow sighed. "Dawn told me about your little resurrection adventure. You might have been misguided, but you were only trying to help."

"But that's the problem Will. I don't have anything to guide me anymore. Buffy showed me what was right and even when she was around I bollocksed it up. She was my bleeding soul. Now she's gone . . ."

Dawn squeezed Spike's hand excitedly. "But Spike, that's why we've come to see you. We think we've figured out a way to bring her back, and we can't do it without you."

"Huh?"

END PART ONE