The Fallout

Ch. 1

The Girl Knows How to Make an Entrance

Things go differently starting with After Life. Buffy and Spike had a more heartfelt farewell before Glory. Now, back from the grave, things pick up right where they left off…in more ways than one…

I promise this is not just a rehash of season six. The first chapter might seem that way—but it's just for set-up. Things take a turn after this and there's no going back!

I own nothing. All characters are Joss' and I'm just practicing with them.

Ch. 1: The Girl Knows How to Make an Entrance

"Nibblet!" Spike's voice boomed from the kitchen. Dawn shrank a few inches. The teenager looked longingly at the front door, and then aborted her quest to sneak out. She adopted her best look of innocence and rounded the corner into the kitchen.

Her resident vampire was standing at the kitchen sink. His hands were concealed by waxy yellow gloves and planted firmly on his hips. His lips pressed in a hard line. If not for the sharp look in his eyes, Dawn would've laughed at the sight of the big bad getting his domestic on.

"Sneaking out of this house is one of the more daft ideas you've had of late." He tried to point to his ear but instead ended up spreading dish-soap-bubbles along his sharp cheek bone. "Vampire here Bit. I hear everything."

Dawn's chin quivered as she fought against the smile building up. Spike huffed once and she burst out laughing. "Come on Spike, I've been cooped up in here all day. It's Saturday. I just wanted to go out and do something normal."

Spike's eyes softened. It had been weeks since Dawn had shown an interest in any sort of normal teenage activity. Buffy's recent death still loomed heavy in the air…it always would…but sulking about the house was getting them nowhere. Even Spike had to admit, it was time to start encouraging Dawn to move on.

He pulled off the radioactive gloves and perched on a barstool near Dawn. "Where pray-tell were you scarpering off to then?"

Dawn shrugged, "I'm supposed to meet Janice at the mall. Typical teenage outing— lots of danger and scandal."

Spike's eyes narrowed. "Straight to the mall and home by six? No detours?"

"Cross my heart."

Spike gave one roll of his eyes and then smiled in spite of himself. He pulled out his wallet and handed Dawn a twenty. "I find out you're lying and I'll bite you."

Dawn grinned and gave the vampire a quick hug. "Thanks Spike." She yanked her purse up on her shoulder and raced out the door, shouting a quick, "See you tonight!"

"Back by six!" Spike yelled, but the door slammed shut before he finished. He shook his head and went back to the sink to finish the dishes.

As he pulled the hateful gloves back on, he chuckled at the turn his life had taken in recent months. If my poker buddies could see me now. In truth, he couldn't complain too much. All the Scoobies were too cloaked in their own grief to notice him or Dawn. No brows had been raised when he stepped into the role of caregiver. They actually seemed relieved to be free of Dawn duty.

With the Wicca's in summer school most days, or at the Magic Box, Spike had free reign of the Summers' house. There, he could at least feel Buffy's memory. It wasn't much comfort but it was the best he could've hoped for.

When the dishes were done, Spike grabbed a cold beer and his "Bite Me" mug brimming with blood. He plopped himself in front of the t.v.

Episodes of Passions came and went and soon it was six o'clock. Dawn would be home any minute…

By 6:10, he was drumming his fingers on his denim clad thighs….

By 6:20, he was nervously pacing the living room. What if Nibblet's in trouble? Sun's not quite set, can't go play hero yet.

By 6:45, he was torn between storming out to rescue Dawn, sun be damned, or ripping her devious little head off…

At 7:15, night fell on Sunnyhell and Spike threw on his duster. He ripped open the front door only to see Dawn hobbling up the drive, dragging someone along with her by the hand…a female someone by the looks of it.

Spike's throat tightened, all anger extinguished like a candle's flame. He raced down the porch steps and clutched Dawn in a crushing hug. He paid no attention to her companion.

"Thank God. Scared me half to death, or more to death." Spike exhaled slowly, willing his nerves to calm. "You…I could kill you."

"Geez Spike, overreact much?" Dawn stepped to the side to pull her companion forward.

"I mean it. I could rip your head off one handed and drink from your brain stem—"

"Spike, shut up!" Dawn cut him off, "Look."

Spike glanced for the first time at the girl beside Dawn. Suddenly the night seemed deathly still. There were no crickets chirping, no cars driving. There was only silence as his eyes fell upon his Slayer, his reason for existing, his Buffy.

The silence drew around them like a shroud, wrapping Buffy and Spike in a frozen moment. Finally, Dawn's voice broke through the haze.

"She's been through a lot…" Dawn trailed off. "Spike? Are you okay?"

Spike's mind was whirling with questions. The Bot? No, this one has a heartbeat…which means…His jaw worked to form words, but it took several attempts before any sounds came out. "Luv?"

His voice was soft, but still the Slayer flinched. She wrapped her arms around her middle and lowered her eyes to the pavement.

Without taking his eyes off Buffy, Spike said, "Dawn, What did you do?" Memories of the teens rash actions after their mother's death flooded his mind. The zombie-Joyce-that-almost-was.

Dawn's round eyes widened to planet sized proportions, "Me? N—n—nothing. I found her." She stuttered.

Spike opened his mouth to speak but the words died on his tongue. A new voice, Buffy's, said, "It's cold."

Spike and Dawn both sprang into action.

"Oh, Luv. Let's get you inside."

"Oh my god, Buffy, I'm so sorry!"

The vampire and the teen ushered the disorientated slayer into the house. They paused in the foyer, all uncertain where to go from there.

Spike had spent countless hours in this room since Buffy's death, but now standing with her again, memories echoed off the walls.

"I know I'm a monster but you treat me like a man."

"Come upstairs with me William. We don't have much time…"

Spike's hand drifted toward Buffy's long soft hair, but stopped short of touching her. His hand fell back to his side. His eyes swept over her—inch by inch. He still couldn't comprehend that it was really her standing in front of him…close enough to touch. Same blonde hair, same tanned skin, same bloody knuckles—wait.

"Her hands." He said.

"They were like that when I found her. I was going to fix them. I don't know how they got like that." Said Dawn.

A coffin, that's bloody how. Spike swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "I do. Clawed her way out of a coffin, that's how. Innit right?"

Buffy's eyes turned down, an increasingly frequent gesture, "Yeah…That's what I had to do."

"I've done it myself." Spike wanted to wrap her up in his arms. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to hold her. But he didn't know where he stood with her. He settled for a gentle pat on her shoulder. "We'll take care of you." He turned to Dawn, "Get some stuff, mercurochrome, bandages."

Dawn scampered off as Spike slowly coaxed Buffy to the couch. He sat gently, directly in front of her, on the coffee table and took her precious hands in his.

How many times had he dreamed of this? Well, not exactly this—with the skin of her hands torn and shredded…dirt caked on her clothes— Still, by some miracle, the hands resting in his belonged to the Slayer. It was the closest thing to a miracle he'd seen in all his 140 years.

"How long was I gone?" she asked, her voice still hoarse from disuse.

"147 days yesterday. 148 today. Except today doesn't count does it?" He smiled at his joke, but Buffy remained stoic. "How long was it for you? Where you were?"

"Longer." Was all she said.

Dawn returned with the first aid kit, just as the front door burst open and the Scooby Gang filed in, all four of them shouting over one another…

"Is she here?"

"She's here."

"We didn't know where you were!"

"Buffy! Are you okay?"

Four pairs of eyes focused on Spike and Buffy—but not one of them looked surprised to see the Slayer. Spike's eyes narrowed. So that's it then? Caught red handed. Not one of them bothered to say anything to me or poor Dawnie.

Spike stood up, ready to tear them limb from limb, but a tiny hand slipped into his and squeezed. He glanced at Buffy, then at their joined hands.

Dawn must've come to the same conclusion as Spike. "You knew she was back?" Asked the teen, with the smallest trace of hurt in her voice. "How did you know?"

Once again, the confused chatter commenced.

"You're not a zombie are you?"

"Anya!"

"Are you in pain?"

"What do you know about what happened?"

"Hey!" Dawn yelled, silencing the noise. "Back off."

The small part of Spike's brain that wasn't in awe from feeling Buffy's hand wrapped in his, swelled with pride at Dawn's words. That's my girl. A Summers to the marrow.

Xander's eyes zeroed in on Spike and Buffy's joined hands. Spike took a small step in front of Buffy, protecting her from their onslaught and daring Xander to open his big mouth.

Dawn continued, "You did this. What did you do?"

Willow said, "A spell. We didn't think it worked but it did…"

"Is she going to be okay?" Dawn and Spike said in unison.

Buffy squeezed his hand and then let go. She looked at the others and said, "I'm okay. I'm going to be fine. I remember. You brought me back."

"What was it like?" Anya piped up, voice full of inappropriate curiosity.

Again, the Slayer's eyes found the floor, "I-I can't"

"It's alright. We don't have to talk about this now." Xander said.

"You're bloody right we don't have to talk about this now. Let the girl breathe."

The room fell silent. It was perhaps the first time in history that Xander didn't have a snappy comeback. In fact, he looked properly chastised, as did the rest of the Scoobies. They all took a minuscule step away from the Summer's girls and their fierce protector.

Attempting to lighten the mood, Xander clasped his hands and rubbed them together. "Do you want something? Anything? Pizza!" He exclaimed.

"Buffy likes Pizza."

"She doesn't want Pizza!"

"Guys!" Dawn shouted again, "Back off."

"Why don't we let the slayer tell us what she needs." Spike said softly, eyes again locked on his Slayer.

"I think I just want to go to sleep." Buffy said. She slipped her hand back into Spike's standing so no one would see the small movement.

"That's a good Idea."

"Right, you should sleep. But, Buffy be happy…we got you out. We really did it."

"I'm tired."

"Yeah jet lag form Hell has got to be…well, jet lag from Hell."

Anya's comment lie where it fell.

Buffy glanced at Spike and Dawn beside her. "My room is-"

"Yeah…yes…it's your room." Dawn said.

Buffy nodded and slipped away from Spike's side. She managed to whisper, "Come up when they've gone." Just soft enough for Spike and Spike alone to hear.

Spike watched her go, longing to be at her side but just as eager to tear into her bloody insensitive friends.

The Scoobies gaped at each other. Willow and Tara were too busy arguing about how "fine" Buffy was to pay any mind to Spike. Xander as always, found his target. "So, Spike. I hope your not going to start your little obsession now that she's around again."

Spike had the whelp by the shirt front in the blink of an eye. The other Scoobies froze.

"You didn't tell me." Spike growled, "You brought her back and you didn't tell me."

Xander shrugged, "Well now you know."

Spike's bravado melted, and his voice filled with tears…but he refused to be weak in front of them. With as much strength as he could muster he said, "I worked beside you all summer." With that he released the Whelp and stepped back.

"We didn't tell you. It was just…we didn't okay?" Xander said. He ignored the look of betrayal on the vampire's sharp face. He was good at ignoring these things. Years of practice.

"Listen, I figured it out. Maybe you haven't, but I have." Spike pointed an accusing finger at the red witch, "Willow knew there was a chance that she would come back wrong. So wrong that you'd have to…" Spike trailed off. He couldn't bear to finish that thought. He took a breath and continued, "So wrong that she would have to get rid of what came back…and I wouldn't let her. Any part of that was Buffy, I wouldn't let her. That's why she shut me out. Am I right Red?"

Willow's mouth floundered.

"What are you talking about? Willow wouldn't do that." Xander said, stepping closer to his friend.

"Oh, is that right?" Spike said. He'd have said more if not for Dawn placing a gentle hand on his arm and whispering his name. Reluctantly, Spike backed down.

Xander said, "Look, you're just covering. Don't tell me you're not happy. Look me in the eyes and tell me that, when you saw Buffy alive, that wasn't the happiest moment of your entire existence."

Xander's words echoed through them all. The color drained from the room. The same somber air that had existed since Buffy's death returned to the house, but this time it was mixed with shame. What had they done? What price would they pay?

"Well, if Buffy's allowed to go to bed…then we should too." Anya tugged her fiancé's hand, "Xander, I want to go to bed now."

"Don't let us keep you Harris." Spike mumbled, throwing himself on the couch. He needed a cigarette…or twelve.