PIECES ON THE GROUND

Pieces of the Heart series - Part one

Author's Note - This is the first story in a series. It is AU taking place after The Gift.

Disclaimer - Don't own them, never will. Thanks for letting us play, Joss

By D.M.EVANS

Spike winged the Jack Daniels bottle away from him with a howl. The empty bottle shattered against a tombstone sending shards skittering along the damp grass. Spike let his head drop back, rapping it sharply against the door to his crypt. The sun would be up soon but he really couldn't seem to care. He knew how despondent he got whenever he drank heavily. He knew better than to do it but still he didn't care

He shifted a bit where he sat on the ground, propped up by the heavy walls of his home. He hissed in pain as he dug out his cigarettes. Spike sucked smoke into dead lungs, embracing the exquisite agony the half healed ribs inflicted as he breathed. The fall from the tower had shattered several of his bones; inconsequential in light of everything else.

He drew up his knees, hugging close to them as the sobs ripped free from him again. Spike hadn't realized he could weep so much; not even when Dru had left him, not even Buffy's rejection or the death of Joyce had shredded his heart so badly. These tears were for Buffy now that she was dead.

And her death was on his head.

That was why he sat, drunk and bawling like an infant, waiting for the sun. One last sunrise and his pain would end.

Spike had wanted to say something to the Scoobies, to Giles, to let them know he was going for good this time. But he couldn't face them. They were all numb, Giles most of all. Even though as a Watcher he knew one day Buffy would die, how could he, how could any of them, have prepared for the reality of it? Spike knew Giles wouldn't welcome him into Buffy's little group, to share their pain and the comfort that closeness could bring. He had never been welcome before Buffy's death and now there was no chance of it, despite all he had tried to do to help with Glory.

Even if soft-hearted Willow would let him in, Spike couldn't do it. He couldn't face Buffy's closest friends knowing he was at fault for her death. Buffy had voluntarily leapt from the tower and left everyone's world in pieces on the ground. But if Doc hadn't started the ceremony, if he hadn't spilled Dawn's blood, Buffy's sacrifice wouldn't have been needed. If only he had been able to get Dawn off the tower, it wouldn't have happened. If only he had been able to stop Doc before he cut Dawn, it wouldn't have happened. If only he had made sure Xander had killed Doc back in his shop it wouldn't have happened.

But in their rush to get Doc's arcane tome back to Giles in hopes it would tell them how to stop Glory, neither he nor Xander double-checked what they thought was the demon's corpse. He had won so many fights in his life. Hell, he was Spike, killer of two Slayers, how could he lose the most important one of his life? But he had. Spike had known when he went off the tower, in those terrible moments of free fall, that his failure had doomed the world. He wished the fall would kill him, that he would go to dust as soon as he hit, so he wouldn't have to live with that knowledge. He didn't get that lucky.

The pain had been excruciating but it was nothing to the anguish of seeing Buffy's lifeless body on the ground. He had wept openly not caring who saw or what they would think. There was no need to play the Big Bad any more. He knew her death was his fault. He should have been able to stop one damn demon. Buffy had managed to neutralize the Hell-God, Glory, so why had he failed so spectacularly?

"Because you're a loser and always have been," he muttered to no one in particular.

And that was why Buffy was dead. The sky had gone a garish rosy color. His pain would be over soon. He could feel the warmth, the inborn warning to get his undead hide inside before the sun smoked him. He smelled the coming dawn. He welcomed it, keeping his eyes on the sky.

Something kicked his boots. He looked up into a thin, drawn face he knew too well and didn't want to see, especially not now.

"Don't you think you should go inside?"

Spike frowned but got unsteadily to his feet. He moved inside the crypt and forewent the comfortable bed he had and sat on the sarcophagus slab, swaying drunkenly. Dawn sat in the chair. She tucked her feet under her, leaning over on her knees. Her eyes looked large and haunted.

"What are you doing here, Dawn?" he asked finally, not sure he wanted to know, not sure now that he would have the strength to kill himself once she was gone.

"I...I don't know," the girl said, hanging her head, hiding behind her long shock of hair.

Spike gripped the sarcophagus willing it to stop spinning. A vampire with bed-spins had to be the world's most pathetic creature, he decided as he tried focusing on Dawn. "Giles will be worried about you. You ought to go home."

Dawn arched her eyebrows. "Will you go back outside if I go?"

Spike gauged the pain in her face, lighting another cigarette. "No."

"Good, because I can't do it! I can't lose anyone else. First Mom and now Buffy." A sob escaped Dawn's lips.

In spite of the demon's natural instinct for destruction, Spike motioned to her and Dawn flew into his arms. Her hands hit the still healing knife- wound in his back but he didn't flinch. He held her close and let her weep, feeling very uncomfortable. He didn't know how to do this, be warm and human. He hadn't had close friends when he was human and holding and comforting Dru was a different matter all together. If Buffy's death had destroyed him, he couldn't imagine what it had done to Dawn. The poor kid, losing both her mother and sister in so short a period of time. Of course, they really weren't her relatives and Dawn wasn't really a young lady. She was the physical embodiment of a powerful key and even though Glory was gone and the ceremony aborted, it didn't mean those seeking to destroy or exploit the key would stop looking for Dawn.

An awful part of him wished it had been Dawn to jump into the rift. Her pain and fear would be over, a relief really, and Buffy would be alive. He knew Dawn had been prepared to do it and she was the one who had the heaviest burden when it came to living with Buffy's choice. It was bloody unfair. So was the fact she was crying her heart out to a vampire but Dawn had never judged him. He suspected she had a crush on him. She told him once he made her feel safe. It had horrified him. William the Bloody had been reduced to making children feel safe. But part of him had been pleased. He had felt needed and couldn't remember the last time that had happened. Maybe in truth it had never happened, except for Dru's need of him. What kind of life had he lived when that was the sum of those who found him worthy enough to need?

Dawn stepped back, wiping her red swollen eyes.

Spike patted her arm. "You should go back to Giles'. If he wake up and you're gone he'll be upset."

"He just fell asleep. He was up all night," Dawn protested.

"And if he wakes up and you're gone you know what he'll do." Spike cocked his head and gave her a look he hoped wasn't too harsh.

"What am I going to do now, Spike? Where am I going to go?" she asked plaintively.

"Haven't they found Buffy's father yet?" Spike asked.

Dawn flung herself back on the chair. "I've never met him. How can I live with a stranger?"

She had a point. "Can't Giles get custody of you?" He wondered about that. After all Giles wasn't an American and Spike had no idea if that mattered or not.

Dawn sighed. "We don't know and if he doesn't, what then?"

"I don't know. Xander and Anya?" he suggested hesitantly.

She shook her head, her long hair flying. "Can people just living together adopt?"

"I'm not sure." Spike knew better than to suggest Tara and Willow, even though he suspected they would make good parents for Dawn. He doubted even California would give custody of a thirteen year old to a college-aged lesbian couple with no blood relation to the girl.

"I was going to ask if I could stay with you but you don't seem to want to hang around for much longer." She gave him an accusatory look.

Spike ran a nervous hand through his hair. It felt out of control. He hadn't really bothered with it since Buffy died. He wondered vainly how bad it looked. He hated the curl in it, struggling mirror-less day after day to straighten it. He glanced over at Dawn and saw she was still waiting for a response from him. "I'm a vampire, Dawn. I can't possibly take care of you."

"I know but you make me feel safe." Dawn hugged her arms around herself.

Spike didn't know what to say. When she told him this before he had snapped at her but that didn't seem right now. "That can't matter, Dawn. I can't be the one who takes care of you. Your sister was right, I'm just a serial killer in jail because of this chip."

Dawn shook her head. "I don't believe that. You've changed." She waited for him to argue but Spike said nothing. "What if I end up in foster care, Spike? What then?"

"I don't know but you can't stay here, Dawn. The crypt may have some of the comforts, but it's not...a home. Giles will take care of you. He's not going to let anything happen to you." Spike was sure of that. He knew some of Giles' reputation back from his Ripper days. A lot of demons did. He was confident that Giles would be able to keep the girl safe, safer than any normal human could.

Dawn nibbled her fingernails. "And what if he takes me back to England, to the Watchers?"

"There are worse things. You might even become a Watcher yourself some day. You'd be good at it." Spike rubbed his face. "I wouldn't mind going home myself."

Dawn looked at him. "I guess that's better than going into the sun." She sprung up from the chair and flung her arms around him, hugging him hard enough to make his healing ribs creak ominously. "Promise you won't do that."

"All right," he said, wondering if it was a lie. He was seeing London in his mind's eye. Maybe going home would be good for him but was he up to a long boat ride there alone? All of his long trips had always been with Dru except for his fateful return to Sunnydale. Why had he returned when Dru left him? Why hadn't he found anywhere else to go? Then he wouldn't have a chip in his head and a hole in his dead heart. Ironically part of the reason he had returned was to kill Buffy in the first place, to prove himself to Dru. How had things gone so wrong? How had he fallen for a Slayer? Spike remembered well how delicious their blood tasted, how hot the experience made him. How had he gone from wanting their blood to wanting one of their kind's love?

"We tried to bring Mom back...but I stopped it. But maybe for Buffy's sake..." Dawn trailed off.

"And remember who gave you that spell," Spike said. "The same man who tried to kill you and destroy the world. It's not a good idea. If it were I'd help you get those demon eggs all over again."

"The spell...it doesn't bring them back right. I didn't believe that at first but with Mom...I learned to believe it. I...I couldn't do that to Buffy. I wouldn't want her back if she wasn't really Buffy, you know."

He stroked a lock of her hair out of her face. "I know."

Dawn stepped away from him again as a phone started ringing. She pulled a small cellular out of her smiley-face purse. She wrinkled her nose at it. "Giles gave this to me. It's probably him."

"You best answer it, pet."

"I don't want to."

Spike took the phone from her and answered. "Yeah...she's fine, Rupert. Don't worry I'll send her on her way now." He folded the phone back up and gave Dawn a look. "You need to run along home, niblet."

Dawn thrust the phone back into her purse. "Home...where's that?"

"I wish I knew," Spike whispered. "Come on now, ducks. If Giles has to come looking for you, we'll both regret it."

Dawn nodded. "I know. But I can come back, can't I, Spike?" A hopeful gleam shone in her eyes.

"Sure, but you have to be careful. Never know who's watching you. We wouldn't want Giles to have to explain to the state why you're hanging out in graveyards."

Dawn offered him a thin smile and left. Spike rolled into his bed, still feeling drunk but somehow just a little less sad. If Dawn could scoop up the pieces off the ground and put them back together in her heart and go on, how could he do less? A few staples, some barbed wire, and a little glue, that's what his heart needed now. And he knew he couldn't get it in Sunnydale.

Spike forced himself up and opened the trunk he kept weaponry in. He went down into the bowels of the crypt and lovingly collected all the photos he had of Buffy. Some were bent and torn from when he had lost his temper after she didn't understand the gift he offered her when he promised to kill Dru. He put the photos in the trunk with the weapons and wondered what he really wanted to pack next. He had so little any more.

Spike took a stake out of the trunk. How weird was it that a vampire actually had such a weapon? Maybe Dawn was right, he had changed. He had told Buffy as much but she hadn't believed him. Spike wasn't sure himself any more. Certainly he had fed when Dru handed him that girl in the club and he had luxuriated in it but after Dru left him again, he had gone right back to helping Buffy and the Scoobies. Where did that leave him? An outcast in all walks of life. He didn't belong with the living and demons no longer wanted anything to do with him. Would they know what happened to him if he went home? No, but eventually they'd wonder why he wasn't feeding on humans. Darla had certainly known it and tormented Angel with it once he got his soul back. It had torn their little family apart. Mostly, Spike didn't miss Angel since he hated sharing Dru.

But Angel had been his mentor. Spike lifted a photo out of the trunk and looked at Buffy's happy face. Had he ever seen her smile like that? No, not for his sake, he hadn't. "Guess I'm going to L.A., luv," he told her and even if it was drunken logic, he had to admit there was a certain amount of sense to it.

Dru was in L.A. Maybe if Buffy was right and he was nothing but a killer he could go find her. He knew Dru would kill for him, at least until she got bored with it or disgusted with him. Spike knew it would happen. Dru might not believe in science but he couldn't deny the excruciating pain the bloody chip put him through. But maybe he was the one who was right. Maybe he had changed. He owed it to how he felt about Buffy to try and prove that.

And where better than in L.A? Angel probably could use his help right about now, regardless of how they usually felt about one another. They had made a good team doing evil and Spike figured they could make an equally good team doing good. Spike was vaguely surprised that the demon in him didn't revolt over the idea but that part of him had been quiet for some time now. Fighting for the side of angels wouldn't bring Buffy back but it felt like the right thing to do.

And there was something he needed to discuss with Angel and if not with him then with Dru, if she could be trusted. He knew the spell Dawn spoke of wouldn't bring back the Buffy he knew but there was a way. After all, Darla had been mojo'ed back from mere dust, completely human and with her memories more or less intact if Dru was right. It was hard to tell with Dru most of the time. And if that law firm could do it for Darla, why not Buffy? He had been too distraught to think of that before but now he, too, was picking the pieces up off the ground and things were getting clearer. Spike knew Angel would do anything for that wisp of a girl and he knew Angel had dealings with Wolfram and Hart. All he'd need to do would be to suggest it.

And even if it didn't work, maybe even if they never tried it, after all everyone deserved a chance at peace, at least he'd feel like he was accomplishing something. Spike doubted Angel would be thrilled to see him. He knew eventually one of the Scoobies would go to L.A. to tell Angel about Buffy. Maybe they would tell him about Spike's role in trying to do good. Maybe Angel would even believe it. It was worth a try. Granted he had had Angel tortured the last time he was in L.A. but what was a little torture between family members? After all he owed Peaches for everything his grand- sire had put him through with Dru back when he had been wheel chair bound. How he had hated Buffy then. It wasn't even that long ago. It was an entire lifetime, depending on how he looked at it.

Spike finished packing. By nightfall, he had his trunk stuffed the back seat of his De Soto - it wouldn't fit in the boot - and he was on his way to L.A. He'd call Dawn from there. She would be mad that she didn't get to say good-bye but if things went well, it wouldn't have to be good bye. It could be hello new beginnings.