Author Note: Epic angst warnings are in effect. I hadn't intended to include much, or even any, angst in this story but y'know how it goes... blame my muse. We'll be back to sass and soppiness soon, I promise.

Breakdown

"Is it 'cause of me?"

"What?"

"You and my dad breaking up, is it because of me?"

"Dawn, no. Of course not!" Buffy insisted.

"Then why?"

"Well, uh…"

The teenager was glaring at her – a cocktail of warring emotions locked in her eyes, just like her father's.

"I'm not a little kid, y'know. You can tell me."

"I know that. I just… it's hard, okay?"

"Okay," Dawn agreed, with a nod. "Fine. Whatever it is, I want you to know Spike's a good guy. The best, actually. Right now he's major upset, and nothing would make him happier than for you to sort it out."

Buffy was going to speak – tell her that she wasn't sure if things could be sorted – but Dawn wasn't done yet.

"The thing is," she continued, in a tone completely devoid of her usual sass, "I don't want you to get back together because you feel bad, or because it would make him feel good, for a little while. Only do it if you mean it, because otherwise he's gonna end up worse. If the problem really is me then tell me and I'll change, or something, and if it's because of him then I'm begging you for another chance. But…" she looked away, and then snapped her eyes right back up again and drilled them into Buffy's gaze. "Please don't hurt him anymore."

"Dawn, I-"

The girl shook her head and exited the office quickly – clearly annoyed with herself for betraying so much vulnerability.

After sitting there for a minute, unable to move or do anything, Buffy then sprung into action and went to exit the room just as swiftly. She bumped into the principal on her way, though.

"The school day's just started," he said with a frown as he eyed her coat and handbag in her hands. "Don't tell me you're leaving."

"Family emergency," she lied, but there was enough genuine inner turmoil conveyed in it that he believed her and let her go without another word. He even held the door for her.

She had to see Spike. Buffy had no idea how he'd react, or even what she was going to say to him, but she had to see him.

He wasn't drunk when she arrived, but the open bottle in his hand told her he was soon intending to be. They looked at each other as she moved past him into the hallway, and then they both looked down and gave into the awkward silence.

Buffy broke it first by saying, "I don't want to hurt you."

When Spike only grunted in reply she corrected herself. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Why did you?" he asked, earnestly.

"Because I'm a coward."

Despite his reservations, her simple statement made him pay attention to her. Made him more willing to at least hear her out. But there were no more words offered.

Clearly it wasn't easy for her, so Spike tried to ease the tension by gesturing to the living room and suggesting they sit to talk.

Buffy shook her head.

Spike snapped. "Bloody hell, give me something to work with!"

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you keep saying that."

"What else am I supposed to say?"

"Anything! I put myself out there and you've all closed up. Why won't you let me in?"

"Because I can't."

"Why?"

Buffy gave a half shrug and looked away.

"You're a damn infuriating woman, you know that? A bloody guidance counselor who has more issues than probably the teenage population of the high school put together!"

After a breath Buffy said, "Yeah. It's a fair estimation."

"Okay." Spike gave a deep sigh to try and relieve his frustration. "So askin' you why you're pushin' me away is too hard. Let me ask you why you're here. What do you want?"

"I…" she began – her voice trembling as she looked deep in his eyes again, and reached out to touch her finger tips to his chest. "I want you."

"No," said Spike, as he grasped her wrist before she touched him.

Shocked by the firmness of his reaction – the rejection of it – she pulled her hand back, like she'd been burned.

Spike shook his head. "You don't get to have me if I don' get to have you. Not how it works, sweetheart."

"I'm sor-"

"Stop bloody apologizing!"

"Sorry!" she yelled, and then groaned. "Damn. This is a mess. I should go."

"Run away again?"

"This was a mistake."

"Which bit?"

"The- ugh! I don't know. Spike, I don't know anything!"

She was practically on the verge of tears and, despite being resolute earlier for his own sake, he couldn't bear to see her in pain. He tried to embrace her, but she pulled away.

Like a dog who didn't know whether to offer puppy dog eyes or growl and bark, Spike just stood there, taking her in, with his head titled.

"Things with you were good. So good. And I want that I… I loved that."

Softly he asked, "What's the problem?"

"The problem is I'm scared – no, terrified – of ruining that."

"You can't ruin something good, by adding something else good to it," Spike reasoned.

Buffy shook her head. "You don't understand. I can't love you. I can't allow myself to, because everyone I love leaves, or becomes a great big idiot who makes me cry all the time, or ends up dying in a hospital bed. Everyone I love ends up worse because of it, and it's all my fault. And I won't let myself love you!"

She almost screamed that last part. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks, and she didn't care.

Although it was killing him to do nothing – to not hold her, or plead with her further – Spike simply gave a small nod and didn't push her any further. He'd tried trying to talk someone into loving him in the past. Into not leaving him. It never worked.

"Buffy, I…" he hesitated, and then skirted around the 'L' word. "I care for you. And I want you to work this out, because it's not right what you're doin' to y'rself, an' I wanna be the one to help, but I can't be."

She looked at him – surprised at that last bit.

"The thing is," he continued. "As much as I'm willing to go through hell if I think it'll be worth it at the end, me doin' that drags Dawn there, too. An' I'm not doin' that again."

"I understand," said Buffy, in a whimper. Spike held the door for her, as she left.

To be continued...