A/N - And so we reach the top of the angst roller coaster. The next few chapters will relax a bit, there might even be some fluff. This is the shortest chapter but if I had gone on to the next scene, it would have been another week until I could have updated and I figured putting this out now would be better.

Special thank you to OldGirl - NoraArlani, Vivi H88, zanthinegirl, DMoravec0505, and everyone else who reviews, followers, or favorites.

Let me know what you think and enjoy!

Chapter Ten - Remember When

Buffy paced anxiously in the small courtyard at Giles', her heeled boots clicking on the cobblestone. She had made a complete circuit around the disused fountain twice already hoping to calm her nerves but the fear, far from dissipating, seemed to be growing exponentially with every step she took.

It had been nine days since she had last seen Spike. Giles called her every evening so they could talk over where she would patrol but had remained closed lipped about the vampire. Buffy suspected this was, at least in part, because Spike was doing his best to eavesdrop. Giles' apartment was not exactly giant and she knew from past experience that keeping a conversation private was impossible in the small space.

Yesterday was the first time the idea of her visiting to apologize had come up. Giles had made it clear that, while Spike was still displeased with her, his anger had died down to cold indifference and he believed her to be in no danger.

Every night after patrol, she had dropped off blood bags in Giles' mailbox for Spike. Sometimes she would try and peak through the curtained windows. Most of the time nothing could be made out, but once or twice someone had left a small bit uncovered.

It was odd to watch Giles and Spike interact. Whatever hostility the two had felt for one another had faded completely. The two would joke and laugh, seeming far more comfortable around each other than she thought possible. Seeing a genuine friendship begin to sprout between the two only served to make her feel worse. If Giles, whose distaste of vampires had been cultured for centuries could learn to get along with one without deception, then why had she been incapable of doing the same?

The door was coming up again as she finished her third revolution around the courtyard and she slowed her pace, preparing to go up and knock. Her hand had gone so far as to grasp the knocker when her courage failed.

'One more time and then I'll knock,' she thought, resuming her prior path.

Damage control was so not her thing, she usually fixed things with violence, not talking. And Spike was so easy to hit sometimes.

'No Buffy. Absolutely NO hitting,' she flexed her hands as if to remind them too that there would be no displays of aggression.

If Xander knew what she was doing right now, his eyes would probably pop out of his head. He would rattle off a list of every bad thing Spike had ever done, even if it were as simple as not tipping a bartender, in order to get her to see reason. Even Willow would be uncomfortable with the notion of her trusting the blond vampire, the whole kidnapping thing had not been easily forgotten.

But did Buffy necessarily care what they thought?

From what she had seen, it was kindness that had awakened the humanity in Spike. Since she had offered him a warm place to stay, he had not so much as mentioned hurting her or the others. It was as if a switch had been flipped in his head, the evilness diminishing some.

She was nearly at Giles' door again, the single piece of wood seeming more daunting than a horde of vampires. Stopping a few steps short, she took a deep breath to steady herself.

The next ten minutes were going to be far from pleasant.

She had spent all morning trying to think of a suitable apology but her words always sounded forced and in-genuine. It did not help that she had no idea what type of mood Spike was currently in. He could be anywhere from spitting mad to drown yourself in the bathtub depressed depending on how the last few days had gone. Despite what Giles had said, she did not entirely trust his assessment of the vampire. Spike was a good liar, good enough to fool himself sometimes.

Buffy knew she had touched something raw deep within him with her poor choice of words. Coupled with his suspicion, the two had created an atomic mix. She had not seen the aftermath but it definitely had not been good.

The click of a lock dragged her back to the present and she watched in alarm as her wooden enemy swung open to reveal a tousle haired Giles.

He was still unshaven and in his sleepwear despite it being past noon, the scent of coffee wafting from the mug he held in his hand.

"Are you ready to come in?" he asked, a trifle annoyed, "Or do you wish to continue pacing?"

"Gee, what has you so ruffled?" Buffy asked.

"I do apologize. I was up rather late last night and I'm afraid I did not get much sleep." he stepped aside to let her enter, taking a sip of his coffee.

Buffy walked into the apartment with some trepidation, "What were you doing up?" she asked, "And if it was in any way related to an apocalypse, I don't want to hear about it until after finals." her eyes widened slightly, "Please tell me it's not another apocalypse."

"Oh it's nothing as… erm, exciting as the end of the world. I was merely going over some of my texts that dealt with ancient myths." he closed the door, scratching at his jaw with his free hand.

Buffy was careful to keep her full focus on Giles, not ready to chance seeing the other inhabitant of the apartment.

"Ancient myths? Why?" she asked.

"I was comparing my knowledge with Spike's. He hears much more than I do, having a direct pipeline to the rest of the demon community." Giles moved towards his desk, "We lost track of time."

Buffy's next words were lost as she stared at the utter mess Giles' normally immaculate work-space had become. Books, more books that she had ever seen, littered every available surface. They were stacked on the floor, on chairs, even on the stairs. Most were opened, frail yellow pages covered in languages she had never seen before. It was like a library had exploded and she should know, having witnessed one to just that only six months ago.

"I didn't know you owned this many books." she said, her original reason for visiting completely forgotten for the moment.

"I keep most of my collection in storage unless otherwise needed." Giles said, "Now, why don't you take a seat in the dining room? Spike and I were just finishing breakfast."

Oh yeah… suddenly the books did not seem even remotely interesting anymore.

"Right-o" she said awkwardly, turning to face the dining room table.

Giles had already sat down and was attacking his plate of - was that beans and toast?

'Focus Buffy.' she snapped at herself, 'Save the weird breakfast questions for later. Right now is apologizing time.'

Steeling herself, she swung her gaze to the opposite side of the table.

What she saw made her face catch fire, the blush she felt so intense that it practically burned her.

Spike was sitting, feet up on the table, reading the paper. He was wearing a purple button up shirt but it was completely open, exposing way too much skin. A piece of toast was hanging from his mouth, his concentration mostly taken with whatever he was reading. His too big jeans were slung low, waaay low, on narrow hips.

It was, without a doubt, the sexiest thing she had ever seen in person.

"What are you DOING?" she exploded, brain overheating.

Spike closed the paper partly and leaned sideways a bit to get a look at her, "M 'eaing 'e 'apa." he said around the toast.

"Please do not speak with food in your mouth." Giles said, not even looking up from his breakfast, "And feet off the table."

Ignoring the second half of the request, Spike set the paper aside and crammed the rest of the toast in his mouth, giving a massive swallow. Crumbs fell and scattered across his chest and Buffy really needed to stop looking right freaking now.

"I'm reading the paper." he reiterated, "What's it to you?"

"Y-you… your shirt is all open and stuff!" she pointed sharply at his bare torso.

"Buffy…" Giles cautioned, finally abandoning his food.

"No! Every time I have something important to say he's all… all…" she couldn't say it, not in front of Giles, "And it's… make him put something else on!"

Spike looked at her coldly, "I would Slayer but Rupes only has so many shirts and between the two of us…" he did not finish.

Giles coughed, "I let the laundry slip and the only thing I had for him to wear was that button up. It's quite small, someone gave to me as a gift, so he-"

"I couldn't button it. Too muscly and all." Spike's tongue peeked out, though there was no amusement in his eyes.

"If it really does bother you so much…" Giles frowned, realizing that while he did not particularly care how the bleached blond dressed, he did not want Buffy seeing quite so much of the other man.

"N-no it's fine. It was just…" - sensual, gorgeous, - "unexpected." she finished.

Uncomfortable with having everyone's attention still focused on her, Buffy took a seat next to Giles. Taking his coffee mug, she took a small sip, trying to compose herself again. Her brain still felt all mushy, like it was leaking out of her ear. Resisting the urge to check, she set the mug aside and turned her attention to Spike.

He was finishing off what remained of his breakfast, plate balanced in his lap. His hair was unstyled and stood up in tufty blond peaks like a mini snow covered mountain range.

"Um… Spike?" she asked, unsure how else to start the conversation.

His eyes flickered up to meet her's, expression unreadable.

"I wanted to apologize for… well everything I guess." she continued after several seconds of awkward silence.

"Already said that, pet." he was still oddly calm.

"I know that. I just wanted to… say it again." this was not going well.

"There's no need. We don't owe each other anythin' right?" he said matter of factly as he tossed the paper to Giles, "S'not like we're friends or somethin'. 'M still a vampire yeah?"

Giles was watching the two cautiously, prepared to intervene.

Dread bubbled in her gut at the glib responses her words were eliciting. She'd rather he was furious and throwing things than sitting there acting like nothing had happened. He was hiding his feelings, protecting himself in indifference she realized.

This was all a misunderstanding… mostly. If she could just explain herself then everything would be alright.

"Tell me Slayer, why are you really here?" Spike asked, one brow arching.

"Because I want to make this right!" she said loudly, unable to hide her mounting frustration.

"Why?" he stressed.

Why? She had a dozen reasons, though he would probably kill her if she said half of them.

"This is all a misunderstanding. I wasn't using you for information, I just wanted to know more about you." she ignored the small frown Giles gave her as she skipped some parts of the truth, "And I did a terrible thing, manipulating you to get you to talk, but I thought… I don't even know what I thought! Everything's all messed up! Spike I swear that I never meant to hurt you."

"You didn't so don't flatter yourself." his lip curled in contempt.

"I did. I know I did." she said defiantly.

He glared, body tensing, "And how 'xactly do you know?"

"Because the same thing happened to me. Parker, he lied and lied to get me to do what he wanted. I thought it was real, all of it. You were there when it all came crashing down remember? And the betrayal was too much for me to take.

"You feel stuff too - anger and joy and admiration - so yeah, I do know I hurt you because it hurt me. And I want to make amends because it took me a long time to get over it but having someone else helped, you helped. All that despair, you turned it to anger and kept me afloat."

'I know it's not fair, not a bit of it. People like us don't get to choose what we are. It's a curse given to us by the powers that be and it sucks sometimes. But we make the best of it everyday. Cause otherwise there's no point in existin' at all.'

"Why do you even care so bloody much!" he snarled, "I'm a monster, always have been. I kill for fun and revel in it."

"Who are you trying to convince, me or you?" she retorted.

"Don't test me Slayer." he was keeping his demon at bay by sheer will.

She could see the struggle, the skin on his face twitching as the bone structure threatened to shift.

"My name is Buffy… William."

He stood so quickly the plates rattled. His chair fell backwards, upended by the force. Hands planted on the table, he leaned forward.

"Don't you ever use that name!" he spat at her, "William is dead!"

His reaction startled her and she pushed her chair backwards in spite of herself to put some distance between them.

"Both of you, enough!" Giles intervened, "Buffy, I'm sorry but you need to leave. Spike, if you hurt her I swear to God…"

Buffy ignored Giles, instead rising to her own feet. Reaching forward, she fisted her hands in the collar of Spike's shirt and pulled him closer to her. Losing his balance, he fell across the table. Their faces were only a few inches apart, so close she could count every dot of runny egg yellow in his eyes oozing through pale blue.

She had never seen the change from so close before, see the humanity literally become swallowed by the demon. Angel had always been so careful to hide this part of himself from her.

Spike shuddered, minuscule trembles that she could feel beneath her hands, and the yellow drained away. He was breathing heavily, as though he were physically holding the demon back.

"I'm so, so sorry Spike. Your fits, the nightmares, they're all my fault aren't they? I've been digging in your head but I never thought the memories could still hurt." she whispered morosely, "And it's killing you to know that the one person you knew you shouldn't trust was the one who did it. I wish I could go back and do this the right way."

Please. Please just listen, she thought desperately.

He looked tired, eyelids partially closed, "You keep sayin' these types of things. Maybe it makes you feel better, I dunno. It's a nice thought an' all but I don't give a damn Slayer. Stop actin' like we had a spat in the schoolyard. 'M a vampire and you're the Slayer, this was all temporary anyway."

His hands wrapped around her's, prying himself from her grasp. Straightening his shirt, he picked up his breakfast plate and walked to the kitchen. The sound of splashing water echoed as he turned on the sink faucet.

Spike's words rang in her head, multiplying and bouncing with so much vigor it made her head hurt. Shaking her head, she glanced towards the door, not wanting to see the disapproving look Giles was certainly sporting.

The coat rack near the door was fuller than last time, a leather duster hanging amongst the collection of tweed jackets and coats. Next to it was a small table where Giles kept his wallet and other necessities. Laying beside his car keys was another pair, the Chrysler logo adorning it meaning they belonged to Spike's DeSoto.

Now that she was paying more attention, she noticed the vampire's stuff was everywhere.

A collection of CDs had appeared on the shelf next to the television along with a dented radio, the bottles in the opened liquor cabinet were brands she did not know, a battle axe and several knives were grouped on the coffee table along with a battered leather notebook with curling edges.

Spike's influence had gone beyond mere possessions however, the entire apartment felt more lived in somehow. Giles always kept everything so neat that it was almost impossible to find even a speck of dust usually. Now, a blanket was folded messily over the back of the couch and the pillows had been re-arranged. Someone had moved the weapons trunk to the other side of the room, a pair of muddy boots resting on top of it. The fireplace looked used, a thin layer of soot covering the wooden floor boards directly in front of it.

Spike returned from the kitchen, shirt in serious danger of falling off his shoulders completely, bringing an end to her surveillance.

"Still here?" he asked disinterestedly.

"Yep." she said.

"Bloody brilliant." he muttered with an eye roll, retreating back down the hallway.

Giles' firm hand landed on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off doggedly. Spike was not going to simply walk away from this, no way. Following the vampire, she was brought up short when he entered the bathroom.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, "Dunno 'bout you but I'm takin' a shower."

He went to close the door but she caught it with her hand, shoving it open again. His head cocked as he looked down, staring at her like a predator.

"Careful Goldilocks. Tease the dog too much and you might get bit."

"Don't call me Goldilocks." she said, not releasing the door, "I'm not leaving until we talk about this."

"Did that already five minutes ago 'member? Now unless you want to join me in the shower, which I wouldn't necessarily say no to," - his eyes slid down her form - "get lost."

"Will you stop deflecting! You can pretend all you want that this doesn't bother you but I know better. I know you Spike."

He leered at her, "You don't know the first thing 'bout me."

"I know that you're scared of being alone." she said quietly.

He grinned humorlessly, "How'd you figure?"

Over the last nine days, Buffy had devoured her Psychology textbook, reading everything she could to figure out what to do about Spike. Originally, she had been trying to learn about grudge holding and the like but the chapter that had sparked her interest most had been about loneliness.

It had been difficult to shift through Spike's behaviors, categorizing them by either human or demonic influence, but what she had finally come up with had surprised her.

"You said vampires aren't supposed to be alone right?"

He rolled his eyes and sighed. She could tell she was beginning to wear on him, poking holes in his veil of anger and indifference. What lay underneath though… she had no idea.

"Yeah, suppose I did." he relented, though it looked like agreeing with her was causing him physical pain.

"Humans aren't supposed to either."

"Not human though am I? Vampire." he pointed to himself like she was an idiot.

"You've never been alone before this year, not really. You had your mother when you were human and the second Drusilla changed you, you belonged with her. Now, it's just us, The Scoobies." she could see the holes getting bigger, his body slumping in defeat, "You know, people who are afraid of being alone have certain behaviors. They turn on the television often so they feel like other people are around, they hang out with people even if they don't like them, and they sometimes do things to direct attention onto themselves. Sound like anyone we know?"

"Y'know Angelus always had this thing about bein' annoyin'. Maybe he was lon-"

Smack.

She had not intended to hit him, that had been her mantra walking in, but she had officially reached the end of her patience.

He fell backwards from the force and landed hard on the tiled floor. Blood was welling from his newly split lip and he dabbed at it with his thumb, checking.

"What was that for?" he barked.

She bore down on him, placing her legs on either side of his feet as she stared down at his sprawled form. From this position, he looked pathetic, propped up on his elbows with a too tight shirt stretched taut across his shoulders and too large jeans sliding down his hips despite the belt.

"For being an ass." she said sharply, "I'm here to apologize because this matters to me and here you are, acting like it's some big inconvenience. It's insulting to me and you."

He flopped back, head hitting the floor with a dull thud.

"I hate this." he whispered.

"Hate what?" now that he was content to actually talk, she lowered her voice.

Stepping away from him, she sat on the closed toilet, her feet resting beside his head.

"Everythin'. I hate SunnyHell. I hate the memories. And I really hate you." he turned his face away from her, "I don't know what you've bloody done to me but I want it to stop."

"What did I do?" she asked uncomprehendingly.

"You were right before… I am William." he lashed out with his bare foot, kicking the wall and leaving a hole in the plaster, "I can feel him fightin' the demon and he's brought with him a century's worth of pain and sufferin'. An' he likes you, won't let me do a thing to harm you. So when you hurt me… he won't stop fuckin' cryin'."

"He hurts so bad and I can't stop it. Every insult, every look of disgust, you kept breakin' him. God, I don't want to feel anymore. I wish I'd never met you because I can't do this. I can't keep fightin' him back and when he takes control… I get sucked towards this hole.

"I don't even know which part is me anymore. The demon's been in control for so long but what if William was there the whole time? What if… what if I never had to be the monster?" he choked off, flinging an arm across his face to hide tears falling unhindered, "Angelus and Dru wanted me to be evil and I wanted their acceptance so bad… maybe I just pretended and pretended until I believed it myself."

"Spike…" she was horror struck, watching the sobs wrack his thin frame.

"Vampires don't feel because it'll kill us. But I tried to change for you, thought maybe I could be different. If you could see William, see what you've done to him… You're the monster!" he sat up sharply, lips pulled back in a snarl though tears were still streaming down his face.

What had she done?

Wordlessly, she reached out for him, trying to offer some type of comfort. It suddenly did not matter he was a vampire or she was the Slayer.

He jerked away from her touch, a growl rumbling from his chest like a cornered dog. His eyes were swollen with tears but the hatred burning through those slits was enough to scald her.

"I'm pathetic." one of his hands fisted in his short hair, pulling fiercely, "You were nice to me and I rolled over like a bloody mutt, beggin' for more. The demon wants to kill you so badly, wants to rip open your gut and strangle you with your own intestines for makin' me your dog. But William loves it, he survives on pity.

"I shoulda known better but I… I liked it too fuckin' much too walk away. And you were actin' like we were friends. It… damnit it made me so bloody happy to think that I'd found someone who wasn't gonna leave. But what you did was s-so much worse. I wish I'd died in Prague, thinkin' D-Dru loved me and havin' never s-seen your face." he could get no more out, the crying and emotional burden overwhelming him completely.

Buffy reached out again, trying to ground herself. Her own vision was blurred with tears and her center was radiating coldness that seemed to freeze even her heart.

She ignored that William existing meant Spike had not lost his humanity. She ignored that he could control his demon. She even ignored his confession of some part of him wanting to kill her.

All that mattered to her now was consoling him.

Reaching out again, she touched his shoulder. His skin was icy from being against the bathroom floor but she did not withdraw from him. He was shaking so badly his teeth were chattering, the small clicks just audible over the pained whimpers he was making.

Her other hand reached up to where his fingers were still pulling furiously at his hair. Gently, she worked her way under his fingers, stroking them as she loosened their grip. Several blond pieces had been yanked loose by his ferocity, the skin red with irritation, but she merely ran her hand through the roots soothingly.

She had never seen a grown man cry like this, aside from when she had been ten and her father's aunt had died. Instincts guided her, a primal need to stop his pain pushing out everything else.

These tears of loneliness, of betrayal, of confusion and anger and unworthiness, she was familiar with them. She wondered how often he had refused to allow himself to cry, how often his vampire 'family' had forbidden such a display.

He was crying for everything he had ever lost and she was afraid he might never stop.

"It's okay." she whispered, slipping off the toilet and kneeling on the floor before him. In this position, he was hardly an inch taller than her and it was easy for her to bring his unresisting head to her shoulder.

It never even occurred to her that this put his mouth against her neck.

As cold as he was, the tears were boiling. They soaked into her shirt, the heat traveling across her arm and neck. She wrapped an arm around his back, still stroking his hair, and held him tightly.

It was the same position her mother used to put her in as a child when she had cried. Spike stiffened at the contact, the unfamiliarity confusing him and she felt sorrow shoot through her stomach.

Had no one ever held him like this when he was upset?

The sobs died off slowly, tears continuing to fall silently long after he had stopped shaking. Her knees ached from the floor but she made no move to readjust herself, fearful he would misinterpret it as her trying to leave.

When he rose his head, the fabric of her shirt clung to him, the slight tug signalling to her he was aware again. Gently, she pulled her arms back, unsure what would happen now.

Spike drew back from her on his knees, putting space between them. Careful to not look at him, she rose carefully, lower body protesting the stretching. For the first time, she looked up and found Giles standing in the doorway.

The older man looked ashen, face drawn with sorrow. She had no idea how much he had witnessed, her attention had been focused solely on Spike.

Silently, he gestured for her to follow him. She looked back at Spike but he was still, only his chest moving slightly with slow, shallow breaths.

Not wanting to leave but at the same time feeling overwhelmed, she followed Giles back into the living room. He did not sit but instead paced anxiously while she collapsed onto the couch. It was a bad move. As the same scent of leather and hair gel that she had noticed on Spike in the bathroom was coming off the couch in waves.

"Perhaps it was not the best idea for you to visit." Giles said.

"You think?" Buffy replied hollowly.

It started as weak chuckle but soon the two were laughing. It was that or cry really, the intense emotional scene leaving both of them drained. Once it died off, Giles finally sat on the couch too, staring into the empty fireplace.

"I had no idea that he had retained his humanity the entire time." he said softly.

"Who cares?" Buffy said in an equally subdued voice, "Even if he was an evil vampire, no one should be in that much pain."

Giles shook his head, "That is not what I meant. Of course he does not deserve to suffer like that."

Buffy was still shell-shocked, her mind taking a long time to process what had happened. She was dimly away of the fact it was dark outside down, meaning she had spent at least four hours here. Where had the time gone?

"What do we do now?" she asked.

For once, Giles did not bother taking off his glasses to polish them. That alone spoke volume to how unbalanced he was.

"I have no idea." he said, "But I think we can confidently say he is, truly, no longer a threat to any of us. If William is strong enough to hold back the demon, he might as well have a soul."

"We saw it, we knew he was acting different. If we had just talked to him about it… Giles, I-I didn't know." she sniffed, eyes watering again.

"I know my dear." he sighed, "But now we have to decide where he falls in our lives."

"He's staying with us." she said firmly, "He likes you and my mom which is a start. He was trying to change for us but if he leaves… he'll become evil again. I know it."

"And if he wants to leave?" Giles asked carefully.

Buffy did not want to hold him here against his own will, that would accomplish nothing. Then she remembered, off all things, Ford's vampire buffet clubhouse. It was not a night she dwelt on often, for obvious reasons. To have her last reminder of her normal life before becoming a Slayer be ripped away in such a violent fashion had been disheartening to say the least.

But Ford was the farthest thing from her mind right now.

She remember instead when Spike and his minions had first burst in and started sinking their teeth into anything with a heartbeat. Her only hope had been to threaten the one thing in the room he had cared about.

The moment she had pointed that stake to Drusilla, everything had stopped. She had never seen fear in a vampire before, they seemed to have no understanding of the feeling.

Spike had been prepared to sacrifice everything that night, including himself, but his only concern had been Drusilla. At the time, she had been too busy trying to get everyone out to read into the action.

Now, though…

"Then we'll give him a reason not to. I'm having that party Christmas Eve remember? I want to invite him. You're going anyway so it's not like he'll have an excuse."

"Need I remind you your friends are not as open minded about Spike?" he asked.

"I don't care. My mom adores him - for some reason. You should have heard how angry she was at me for hurting his feelings. I'll get him a present and everyone else can just grow up and deal with it like they did at Thanksgiving." she was warming to her idea, "If we keep treating him like a vampire, that's how he'll always behave."

She was not sure Spike had intended to admit it to her, he had been rambling towards the end, but his fear that he had become evil because it was expected of him resonated with her. She knew that did not mean the demon did not influence him, but it gave her hope that he really could change.

"Buffy, I am not sure if he should continue staying with me. He opened up to me once and that was under extreme duress."

"Where else can he go?" she asked.

He sighed, "I do not know. He needs time with other people though if he is really to believe he is being accepted."

"Hence the party idea."

"Someone is sure to make a tasteless comment and rile him up. We need people beside you and I to keep him grounded."

"I'll think about it." she glanced down the hall towards the bathroom. She had heard nothing from the room since leaving and it was beginning to worry her.

Getting up, she walked towards the bathroom quietly. Giles was close behind, having seen the looks she had been casting in that direction.

Peering around the corner, she was alarmed to see Spike had not moved. His head was bowed, arms resting on his knees.

"Spike?" she called softly but Giles stopped her from entering the room with a firm hand on her elbow.

"Perhaps it would be best if you left. What happened was undoubtedly confusing for him and he will need some time to adjust."

She hated the idea of leaving now but knew Giles was making sense. The last thing she wanted was to somehow upset Spike further.

"Okay." she said, retreating, "Me, Willow, and Xander are supposed to go to the mall later to finish shopping anyway."

Giles nodded, "Do not worry over Spike, I will take care of him."

Buffy smiled, "I know." impulsively, she hugged Giles tightly, "Thank you."

He hugged her back loosely, "Of course." releasing her, he smiled, "Now get going so I can return my home to some semblance of order."

She could not hold back a small grin as she left, feeling better than she had in two weeks. The cloud of guilt had diminished at the thought that maybe she really could fix all this.

Spike's head hurt. It felt like someone had drivel a screwdriver through his temple, he could almost feel the blood running down his face. The cold of the floor was bleeding through his jeans but he could not muster the energy to rise.

What had happened?

He could not remember the last time he had cried, that had been one of Angelus' most important rules. You could scream and beg until your voice gave out but crying was not allowed. He suspected it had been, in part, because Darla hated the noise. It was one of the reasons she had never been keen on hunting children, all those tears.

Drusilla had never been fond of crying either though. She had always equated it with weakness. He had only done it once in her presence. Angelus had just dealt out an especially brutal punishment and he, as most fledglings were, had been devastated at the idea of losing his grandsire's favor.

But the comfort he had expected Drusilla to offer had never come. Instead, she had flown into a rage and nearly cut out his eye with those nails of hers.

He had not meant to cry all over Buffy but he had felt so completely lost that it was the only reaction that made any sense.

It was humiliating, being comforted by the same person who had caused at least some of the tears, but on the other hand he felt a sort of lightness he had not felt since before turning.

Hope.

All the turmoil William had been causing seemed to have lessened some. For two weeks he had felt the sod crying within him, the pain sometimes making him vomit after Giles had gone to bed but now he felt oddly free. William was still there, like an itch he could never reach, but it felt different.

His anger towards Buffy had faded some as well. It was still there, but the edges were no longer hard. She had refused to let the subject drop, refused to allow him to return to a place of indifference. It was more than most had done for him.

Now, though, any chances he had of returning to his old life were shot. Admitting to Buffy that William did not like him killing had made it real for him. He was already a traitor to all demons but now, unwilling to kill for food, he would be driven right out of California.

He was sure that if he really wanted to, he could kill a human. But he knew William well and the ponce had never been one for violence. Someone would have to do him harm if he were to be able to attack guilt free.

If this was how Angelus felt with the soul, then no wonder he was such an arse hole.

Giles was approaching the bathroom again and he felt a thrill of panic. He did not want to discuss what had happened with anyone, even himself. It would take a few days to wrap his head around everything and in the meantime, he would rather be left alone.

"Spike?" Giles was standing awkwardly in the doorway, Spike could smell his unease, thick and sour against his tongue.

"Hmm?" he raised his head a few inches, just enough to see the Watcher.

He looked surprised at getting a reaction, "Er… well I wanted to use the bathroom but…"

And Spike felt warmth bubble in his gut as a wave of affection hit him. Giles would allow him to take things at his own pace it looked. The bloke really was alright.

"Course, mate. Got it." he rose stiffly to his feet, wincing as his broken toe took his weight.

He had not meant to kick the wall but he had not really been in control. At least Giles had not noticed.

Exiting the bathroom, he pulled off the too tight shirt and tossed it on the ground. Sinking onto the couch, he turned on the television and started looking for something to watch.

Buffy's words about lonely people watching television came back to him and he paused, finger grazing the volume button. Until she had started spewing her little theory about him, he had never given it much thought.

Of course, he loathed being alone, but lonely?

Turning off the television, he picked up the leather notebook resting on the coffee table. He flipped through to the first blank page and gazed at it thoughtfully. Robotically, he picked up a pen and began to write.

The pen's trail across the paper was mesmerizing, ink flowing in a steady stream. When was the last time he had felt any type of motivation?

A cry of outrage from the bathroom made him pause from his half finished poem.

"Who put a hole in my bloody wall!?"

He set aside the notebook and sat up, unable to conceal a smirk as Giles stormed from the room.

"You'd better relax mate, before that vein in your forehead explodes." he deadpanned.

The neighbors, when calling the police later, would claim it sounded like someone was trying to kill someone with a crossbow next door.