Of Ending and Beginning
Somewhere a small segment of his brain registered that he was falling. That he'd let them down, all of them. And then his hand closed around something solid. Snarling as pain lanced out from his shoulder and down his back, pulsing around the knife wound, Spike grappled up the outside of the tower with inhuman speed, his one driving thought - Save Dawn. Hand over hand he felt his way down the gangplank she was precariously perched upon, careful not to make noise and alert Doc to his presence. When Spike saw the knife bite into her skin, he almost cried out.
"God, no," he thought as he watched red rivulets flow from the cuts across Dawn's abdomen and down her calves. Anger burned through his body but he pushed it down.
"Save her now. Kill the git later," he mumbled to himself. Frantic, ideas flew through his head like wildfire, each less plausible than the last. So he did the only thing he could think of. Threading his fingers through the metal grating, he positioned himself directly below her. and opened wide.
The demon in him cried out for more when the first drops of Dawn's blood spilled across his tongue, but he only grimaced, his eyes drifting closed. Quick thudding vibrations rattled the platform, and when Spike opened his eyes again, he saw Doc's body sailing over the edge and Buffy working on Dawn's bindings. Relief flooded through him.
"Buffy, he cut me.I don't know why it didn't start. God, I'm so sorry."
Buffy wrapped Dawn in a tight hug, her hand absently stroking her sister's hair. "Shhh, it's okay. You're safe now. No apocalypse." Buffy felt warm liquid soaking through her shirt and she stepped back so she could look at Dawn. Her own tears were starting to sting behind her eyelids, the stress of the last year finally coming to a head. She let them fall, glad that they were tears of joy instead of grief. Buffy reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind the younger girl's ear. "You okay?"
"Basically. I mean owww.but it could have been a lot worse." Dawn cringed at the thought, wiping the streaks from her face with the back of her hand, her voice growing very quiet. "She made me think you weren't coming for me, and that if you did.well, I might be the one on the wrong end of your sword. That hurt more than this." She gestured towards the slits in her dress as if they were nothing. Spike didn't want to interrupt, so he went to work disposing of the last droplets that obstinately clung to the grating.
"I'll always come for you, Dawn. Always. I love you so much, and even if I wasn't sworn to protect you, I would. No matter how much you tick me off sometimes." She allowed herself a little smile. "Please don't forget that." Buffy squeezed Dawn's shoulder lightly and turned to head down.
When he saw them start their descent, he croaked out, "A little help here?" Buffy whipped around, eyes scouring the darkness. Spike shifted his weight, trying to swing himself up onto the gangplank. The movement caught her attention, and only then did she see the mop of platinum hair hovering a couple feet below where Dawn had just been tied up.
Buffy nudged her sister towards the stairs gently. "Go on," she whispered to Dawn, "Let them know everything's okay." After watching the younger girl's back retreat as she picked her way down the tower, she turned back to Spike. "What the hell are you doing?" Her voice came out a little colder than she would have liked. It often did.
"Saving the world.again," he grumbled. "What? Does it look like I'm playing bloody pinochle? Just give me a hand." Exhaustion crept into his voice as he looked up at her. So beautiful. Even with the irregular patterns of gore spattered across her soft pink sweater. His warrior woman. Spike locked the thoughts away, saving them for a time when he could savor them.
"Saving the world, huh? Looks an awful lot like hanging on by your fingernails to me." A world-weary sigh escaped her lips as she leaned over, offering the vampire her arm. Strong cool fingers pressed into her flesh as his hand wrapped around her wrist. "Speaking of fingernails.when did you stop painting yours? Thought that was part of the whole evil package." Buffy leaned back, using her weight to pull him up with her.
Spike rolled onto the platform with a groan, "Hazards of fighting the good fight, pet. No time for the more, ah, superficial things in life." His eyes fastened to hers, the urge to trade mindless banter fleeing. "And Nibblet? She alright?"
Buffy just nodded quietly and turned to him, taking in the tousled hair and clothes. Then she saw it, the red stain dripping over the crest of his chin, sliding down his neck where it had dried. There was no cut to account for the blood, and given where she found him.Buffy knew. Suddenly, the girl with a smart remark for everyone lost the power of speech completely. Spike flinched when her skin touched his. She traced a fingertip down the path the blood had left and shivered in spite of herself. He shivered too. For different reasons.
"That close, huh?" Buffy whispered, afraid of the sound of her own voice. He rubbed the mark from his neck roughly with the back of his hand.
"Closer, love. I hadn't been there to catch the drippings; there'd be all manner of hell-beasties roaming the streets, settin' up shop." Spike gripped her wrist with one hand and nudged her slowly sinking chin up with the other. "None of that now." Buffy backed away from his touch. Reluctantly, he surrendered his grip, watching her hand drift back down to rest at her side. "We won. You won. Not the time for tears." Spike turned then, crossing to the head of the stairs, and threw a one of his typical saucy looks back at her. "Don't know about you, but I plan on getting right pissed tonight. Not every day you go toe to toe with a Hell God and come off smelling like roses. Maybe it'll take the edge off the ache in my sodding shoulders." Spike cocked his head slightly, waiting. "Coming?"
She stood there, her arms wrapped tightly around her body as if to keep from flying into a thousand fragments. Her back was still turned, and if he hadn't had the benefit of his vampire senses, the whisper would have been lost on the wind.
"Thank you."
*****
Spike slumped on a barstool in the kitchen, quietly nursing his third glass of a fine, aged scotch that the Watcher was kind enough to procure for the occasion. The Scoobies were chattering about in the living room with a giddy fervor. Leaning forward to rest his elbows against the counter, he cradled his head between his hands, eyes focused on his drink as if it held the secrets to the universe.
"Just you and me mate. Never been much for the cheery back-slapping, myself." A laugh started in his chest, tumbled from his lips, and finally fell on deaf ears. "No matter what I do, I'm still not worthy of getting the smallest smidgen of respect from those wankers in there. Why do I bother?" Tipping his glass up, he drained it, feeling the last bit of warm brown liquid caress the back of his throat. Pushing himself away from the counter, he staggered to his feet and sauntered towards the back door. Spike let it slam shut behind him and patted his pockets in search of cigarettes. Finding them, he lit one and took a long drag, savoring the taste of sweet tobacco rolling across his tongue.
From where she was curled up at the end of the sofa, dozing, Dawn heard the back door slam and tensed. Glancing at the animated faces of her sister's friends she shook her head and snuck into the kitchen. Only an empty glass. She opened the door and stepped out onto the back porch, shutting it softly behind her. Dawn watched him, enjoying his quiet reverie, preferring it to the noisy bunch inside. She laid a soft hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Thank you," before sitting beside him on the stairs. Without turning or even throwing a glance her way, Spike nodded and exhaled the last drag off his cigarette into the night air before crushing the butt beneath his boot heel. How like her big sis, he thought.
"Almost lost you tonight, Bit." He turned to her then, his eyes full of pain, fear, joy, relief; everything she'd been taught shouldn't be there.
"Yeah," Dawn muttered quietly, "No big though, still among the living. And you're the reason why." Spike started to speak, but she stopped him with a glare the Summers girls must have patented. "Just let me finish, okay?" He only nodded. "I know it may seem like it sometimes, but I'm not bitty- Buffy. I give credit where credit is due, and you deserve the credit for this. Sure, the others were there, they helped a lot and stuff. I mean Buffy did take out a Hell God and all, but in the end she wasn't quick enough. She didn't make it before Doc cut me." Dawn hugged her still tender ribs at the thought and pressed onward. "I saw the look on your face just before he threw you off the tower. Like you failed." She grabbed his hands between hers and struggled to meet his downcast eyes. "But you didn't. You didn't! See, I'm here and in one piece mostly."
"He never should have touched you," Spike growled out from behind a clenched jaw. "Never should have gotten his dirty little hands anywhere near you, pet."
"It happens." Dawn shrugged and continued quietly. "I just wanted you to know, that I know. Buffy told me on the way home. Things could have been a lot different if you weren't so pigheaded." He rolled his eyes and groaned, listening to her girlish giggle at his reaction. "Seriously though. What you did was.amazing." She scrunched her nose at the thought. "And, well kinda ewww, but still amazing." Spike bit his tongue as the memory of her blood washing over it resurfaced. "And I won't forget it. No matter what the do-gooder tribe in there believes, I know why I'm here right now." She pressed a soft, chaste kiss against his temple. "Thank you, for everything."
A genuine smile slid across his angular features, softening them and he turned to catch her tear-filled eyes with his own. "You're welcome."
Flashing him a look that could melt a glacier, Dawn jumped to her feet, dragging him up with her. "Now, I for one am all for making sure the gang realizes the error of their ways. I can't wait to see the look on Xander's face when we finally beat through his thick skull just who saved the day."
Spike smirked, "Would be worth it. Seeing the whelp all skittish and uncomfortable knowing Big Bad is the hero."
Just then, several high-pitched squeals erupted from inside. They were both through the door in an instant, Spike's body tensed and ready for action, one arm shoving Dawn behind him protectively. His eyes darted everywhere, seeking the threat, and finding nothing obviously hostile - he relaxed.
"Bloody hell! What was that all about? Scare a bloke to death."
Buffy and Willow at least had the nerve to look sheepish as they mumbled apologies. Beaming, Xander crossed to Spike, poking a finger in his chest, "Hey, Captain Peroxide, did you forget again?"
Spike just rolled his eyes, sighing overdramatically. "Yeah, yeah. Already dead. Try another one on for size, that particular quip lost its thunder a long time ago." Ignoring Xander's blustering search for a comeback, he pushed past him into the living room. "Again, I ask.what's with the bloody shrieking. Sounded like hell itself was swallowing the house the way you lot were carrying on."
Anya pushed through the crowd surrounding her and waved a ring-bedecked hand in his face. "Xander and I are engaged!"
Somewhere a small segment of his brain registered that he was falling. That he'd let them down, all of them. And then his hand closed around something solid. Snarling as pain lanced out from his shoulder and down his back, pulsing around the knife wound, Spike grappled up the outside of the tower with inhuman speed, his one driving thought - Save Dawn. Hand over hand he felt his way down the gangplank she was precariously perched upon, careful not to make noise and alert Doc to his presence. When Spike saw the knife bite into her skin, he almost cried out.
"God, no," he thought as he watched red rivulets flow from the cuts across Dawn's abdomen and down her calves. Anger burned through his body but he pushed it down.
"Save her now. Kill the git later," he mumbled to himself. Frantic, ideas flew through his head like wildfire, each less plausible than the last. So he did the only thing he could think of. Threading his fingers through the metal grating, he positioned himself directly below her. and opened wide.
The demon in him cried out for more when the first drops of Dawn's blood spilled across his tongue, but he only grimaced, his eyes drifting closed. Quick thudding vibrations rattled the platform, and when Spike opened his eyes again, he saw Doc's body sailing over the edge and Buffy working on Dawn's bindings. Relief flooded through him.
"Buffy, he cut me.I don't know why it didn't start. God, I'm so sorry."
Buffy wrapped Dawn in a tight hug, her hand absently stroking her sister's hair. "Shhh, it's okay. You're safe now. No apocalypse." Buffy felt warm liquid soaking through her shirt and she stepped back so she could look at Dawn. Her own tears were starting to sting behind her eyelids, the stress of the last year finally coming to a head. She let them fall, glad that they were tears of joy instead of grief. Buffy reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind the younger girl's ear. "You okay?"
"Basically. I mean owww.but it could have been a lot worse." Dawn cringed at the thought, wiping the streaks from her face with the back of her hand, her voice growing very quiet. "She made me think you weren't coming for me, and that if you did.well, I might be the one on the wrong end of your sword. That hurt more than this." She gestured towards the slits in her dress as if they were nothing. Spike didn't want to interrupt, so he went to work disposing of the last droplets that obstinately clung to the grating.
"I'll always come for you, Dawn. Always. I love you so much, and even if I wasn't sworn to protect you, I would. No matter how much you tick me off sometimes." She allowed herself a little smile. "Please don't forget that." Buffy squeezed Dawn's shoulder lightly and turned to head down.
When he saw them start their descent, he croaked out, "A little help here?" Buffy whipped around, eyes scouring the darkness. Spike shifted his weight, trying to swing himself up onto the gangplank. The movement caught her attention, and only then did she see the mop of platinum hair hovering a couple feet below where Dawn had just been tied up.
Buffy nudged her sister towards the stairs gently. "Go on," she whispered to Dawn, "Let them know everything's okay." After watching the younger girl's back retreat as she picked her way down the tower, she turned back to Spike. "What the hell are you doing?" Her voice came out a little colder than she would have liked. It often did.
"Saving the world.again," he grumbled. "What? Does it look like I'm playing bloody pinochle? Just give me a hand." Exhaustion crept into his voice as he looked up at her. So beautiful. Even with the irregular patterns of gore spattered across her soft pink sweater. His warrior woman. Spike locked the thoughts away, saving them for a time when he could savor them.
"Saving the world, huh? Looks an awful lot like hanging on by your fingernails to me." A world-weary sigh escaped her lips as she leaned over, offering the vampire her arm. Strong cool fingers pressed into her flesh as his hand wrapped around her wrist. "Speaking of fingernails.when did you stop painting yours? Thought that was part of the whole evil package." Buffy leaned back, using her weight to pull him up with her.
Spike rolled onto the platform with a groan, "Hazards of fighting the good fight, pet. No time for the more, ah, superficial things in life." His eyes fastened to hers, the urge to trade mindless banter fleeing. "And Nibblet? She alright?"
Buffy just nodded quietly and turned to him, taking in the tousled hair and clothes. Then she saw it, the red stain dripping over the crest of his chin, sliding down his neck where it had dried. There was no cut to account for the blood, and given where she found him.Buffy knew. Suddenly, the girl with a smart remark for everyone lost the power of speech completely. Spike flinched when her skin touched his. She traced a fingertip down the path the blood had left and shivered in spite of herself. He shivered too. For different reasons.
"That close, huh?" Buffy whispered, afraid of the sound of her own voice. He rubbed the mark from his neck roughly with the back of his hand.
"Closer, love. I hadn't been there to catch the drippings; there'd be all manner of hell-beasties roaming the streets, settin' up shop." Spike gripped her wrist with one hand and nudged her slowly sinking chin up with the other. "None of that now." Buffy backed away from his touch. Reluctantly, he surrendered his grip, watching her hand drift back down to rest at her side. "We won. You won. Not the time for tears." Spike turned then, crossing to the head of the stairs, and threw a one of his typical saucy looks back at her. "Don't know about you, but I plan on getting right pissed tonight. Not every day you go toe to toe with a Hell God and come off smelling like roses. Maybe it'll take the edge off the ache in my sodding shoulders." Spike cocked his head slightly, waiting. "Coming?"
She stood there, her arms wrapped tightly around her body as if to keep from flying into a thousand fragments. Her back was still turned, and if he hadn't had the benefit of his vampire senses, the whisper would have been lost on the wind.
"Thank you."
*****
Spike slumped on a barstool in the kitchen, quietly nursing his third glass of a fine, aged scotch that the Watcher was kind enough to procure for the occasion. The Scoobies were chattering about in the living room with a giddy fervor. Leaning forward to rest his elbows against the counter, he cradled his head between his hands, eyes focused on his drink as if it held the secrets to the universe.
"Just you and me mate. Never been much for the cheery back-slapping, myself." A laugh started in his chest, tumbled from his lips, and finally fell on deaf ears. "No matter what I do, I'm still not worthy of getting the smallest smidgen of respect from those wankers in there. Why do I bother?" Tipping his glass up, he drained it, feeling the last bit of warm brown liquid caress the back of his throat. Pushing himself away from the counter, he staggered to his feet and sauntered towards the back door. Spike let it slam shut behind him and patted his pockets in search of cigarettes. Finding them, he lit one and took a long drag, savoring the taste of sweet tobacco rolling across his tongue.
From where she was curled up at the end of the sofa, dozing, Dawn heard the back door slam and tensed. Glancing at the animated faces of her sister's friends she shook her head and snuck into the kitchen. Only an empty glass. She opened the door and stepped out onto the back porch, shutting it softly behind her. Dawn watched him, enjoying his quiet reverie, preferring it to the noisy bunch inside. She laid a soft hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Thank you," before sitting beside him on the stairs. Without turning or even throwing a glance her way, Spike nodded and exhaled the last drag off his cigarette into the night air before crushing the butt beneath his boot heel. How like her big sis, he thought.
"Almost lost you tonight, Bit." He turned to her then, his eyes full of pain, fear, joy, relief; everything she'd been taught shouldn't be there.
"Yeah," Dawn muttered quietly, "No big though, still among the living. And you're the reason why." Spike started to speak, but she stopped him with a glare the Summers girls must have patented. "Just let me finish, okay?" He only nodded. "I know it may seem like it sometimes, but I'm not bitty- Buffy. I give credit where credit is due, and you deserve the credit for this. Sure, the others were there, they helped a lot and stuff. I mean Buffy did take out a Hell God and all, but in the end she wasn't quick enough. She didn't make it before Doc cut me." Dawn hugged her still tender ribs at the thought and pressed onward. "I saw the look on your face just before he threw you off the tower. Like you failed." She grabbed his hands between hers and struggled to meet his downcast eyes. "But you didn't. You didn't! See, I'm here and in one piece mostly."
"He never should have touched you," Spike growled out from behind a clenched jaw. "Never should have gotten his dirty little hands anywhere near you, pet."
"It happens." Dawn shrugged and continued quietly. "I just wanted you to know, that I know. Buffy told me on the way home. Things could have been a lot different if you weren't so pigheaded." He rolled his eyes and groaned, listening to her girlish giggle at his reaction. "Seriously though. What you did was.amazing." She scrunched her nose at the thought. "And, well kinda ewww, but still amazing." Spike bit his tongue as the memory of her blood washing over it resurfaced. "And I won't forget it. No matter what the do-gooder tribe in there believes, I know why I'm here right now." She pressed a soft, chaste kiss against his temple. "Thank you, for everything."
A genuine smile slid across his angular features, softening them and he turned to catch her tear-filled eyes with his own. "You're welcome."
Flashing him a look that could melt a glacier, Dawn jumped to her feet, dragging him up with her. "Now, I for one am all for making sure the gang realizes the error of their ways. I can't wait to see the look on Xander's face when we finally beat through his thick skull just who saved the day."
Spike smirked, "Would be worth it. Seeing the whelp all skittish and uncomfortable knowing Big Bad is the hero."
Just then, several high-pitched squeals erupted from inside. They were both through the door in an instant, Spike's body tensed and ready for action, one arm shoving Dawn behind him protectively. His eyes darted everywhere, seeking the threat, and finding nothing obviously hostile - he relaxed.
"Bloody hell! What was that all about? Scare a bloke to death."
Buffy and Willow at least had the nerve to look sheepish as they mumbled apologies. Beaming, Xander crossed to Spike, poking a finger in his chest, "Hey, Captain Peroxide, did you forget again?"
Spike just rolled his eyes, sighing overdramatically. "Yeah, yeah. Already dead. Try another one on for size, that particular quip lost its thunder a long time ago." Ignoring Xander's blustering search for a comeback, he pushed past him into the living room. "Again, I ask.what's with the bloody shrieking. Sounded like hell itself was swallowing the house the way you lot were carrying on."
Anya pushed through the crowd surrounding her and waved a ring-bedecked hand in his face. "Xander and I are engaged!"