Part 10: Broken and Gained
It would be awhile before Buffy and Dylan were strong enough to travel very far. A few hours outside of Prague, they stopped in a town just outside of the Czech boarder, where Catherine informed them they would be staying until the slayer got her strength back. David drove them to a large estate on the outskirt of the town.
"Where are we?" Buffy asked half asleep as she leaned on his shoulder.
"Germany," he told her. "We crossed the boarder about an hour ago."
"Do not worry, Slayer," Catherine said in her most reassuring tone. "You and the child will be safe here." She then said to Spike as Buffy once again slipped into unconsciousness, "This is one of my fathers' homes," she explained. "There will be someone here to look after them until they are well enough to travel on."
"Where are you goin' to take us?"
"Madrid," she told him.
He looked over at the sleeping slayer, who, in any normal state, would not allow herself to be in such a comprising position with him. Her arm was draped around his waist as she held on close, and he held his arm over her shoulder in a protective embrace. Next to her, in a little car seat, Dylan slept as well, oblivious to the anxious air that was passing through the adults in the car. He tore his gaze away from them and turned it back to Catherine that sat in front of him.
"I want answers," he demanded coldly.
She shifted in the front seat to be able to see them better, and understood the moment her eyes laid on the three.
"My father will answer any questions you have," she told him sweetly.
The car came to a stop in front of large entrance, where two well dressed servants waited in the snow with umbrellas. One opened Catherine's door, and held it high over their heads as she walked around the car, opened the door on Dylan's side, and took the child out.
The other servant opened Spikes door, though he was already half way out of it by that time, and protected them from the snow as he gathered Buffy up in his arms. Catherine came back around, carrying the baby that was still asleep like her mother, and headed towards the house.
"Come, I will show you where we can leave them for the time being."
Inside the house, she led him up a large set of stairs that was the first thing he saw when they entered. It reminded Spike of the stair case from Gone With The Wind, but he would admire the decoration and design of the house later. Right now, he had more important things to worry about.
Unlike the one that helped Spike, the servant that had held the umbrella over Catherine remained with them, dumping the covering by the front door and following her up the stairs. When they reached a large pair of doors, he opened them for her and the group quickly stepped inside.
The bedroom was larger then Spike's crypt, with every elaborate comfort he could think of. A gigantic bed stood as tall as the room, and he quickly hurried over and deposited the sleeping slayer in it. An old, old man in a white lab coat began to check her over. He didn't trust anyone who wore a lab coat, not after Lang and the Commandos, but he said nothing as he back away and let the man work. He did, after all, seem to be trying to help her.
On the other side of the bed, Catherine had laid Dylan onto the soft bedding as a plump woman did nearly the same thing the old man was doing to Buffy. Dylan was awake now, happily kicking her legs up at the woman, who was literally beaming at the child.
When she was finished, she reached over, carefully picked her up, and said to Catherine, "She appears to be healthy, but you should not have taken her out in such conditions. There was a serious threat she could have caught pneumonia."
"We did not have a choice, Rosemary," Catherine answered as the plump woman walked over to a crib that was set up near by and placed her inside. "Lang's people already knew that they were there. We had to leave at once."
"The mother's fine as well," the old man said coming away from Buffy side and joining Spike at his. "Tired, but nothing else that is very serious. With her healing abilities, she should be up and about tomorrow morning at the earliest."
"Good," Spike said. The other three seemed to finally notice his presences then.
"Oh, I am sorry," Catherine said. "Spike, this is Dr. Peter van Devender and his wife Rosemary. Peter, Rosemary, this is Spike."
"How do you do," the woman said with same silly smile she had when she was looking over his daughter.
"Alright," he answered before turning to Catherine. "Your father?"
"Oh, yes. Please, follow me."
She hurried out of the room, and, after a moments hesitation of leaving Dylan and Buffy alone with these strangers, he followed. The raven hair girl led him back down the stairs and into a part that was farther tucked into the estate. Spike half wondered if he should maybe leave a bread crumb trail to find his way back through the maze. Finally, she took him into a large library that would even make that Watcher of Buffy's green with envy.
A middle age man, maybe a little older then Giles, sat in front of the fireplace that was burning brightly with a warm glow. There was a book opened on his lap, and a glass half full with bourbon clutched in his hand as he read. He looked up from the sound of approaching footsteps, and stood when he saw his daughter and a stranger coming towards him.
"Hello, Father," Catherine said as the man placed the glass on a small table beside the chair he had been sitting in.
"Catherine," he answered with all the warmth of three day old corps. Then a goofy grin broke on his face, and Spike figured that this was suppose to be two people greeting each other properly in public, but was obvious that they weren't actually like that. "You must forgive me," he said to Spike. He had an English accent, but it was so proper, that it made Giles sound like some kind of commoner. "My daughter wishes that we act dignified with company. Please, have a seat, Mr. William. Would you like some bourbon?"
"No thanks," he answered as he took the seat next to the one the man had settled himself back in. "And it's just Spike."
The man nodded his head, and Catherine took that as a silent cue to leave. Spike and the man watched her go, before turning the attention back to each other.
"I do suppose you have questions," he said as he leaned back in the chair.
"Yeah. Like who the bloody hell are you and why are you helpin' us?"
"I am Nicholas Becket," he told him. "As to why I am helping you, it is because I was told to a long time ago."
He let out a sigh as he tried to explain.
"You see, Mr. Will-Spike, my family has long been associated with the Watchers Council in London, so the fact there are supernatural forces in the world has never been kept from us. Though there has never actually been a Watcher in the family, we help out the slayer in any way possible, whether it is by providing funds to help her in her fight, or offering shelter when it is needed. This is how it has always been for hundreds of years. That is, until the late fifties.
"I was a small boy then, and a woman who said she was sent by the Council came to our home. She told my father of the corruption that was plaguing the institution then. How they no longer actually cared about the slayers themselves and viewed them only as their tools for keeping the evil in the world in check. After all, if they ever lost one, they would just have to call another. This was something my father had feared his whole life, and dropped our whole families association with them.
"The woman was actually a seer and told my father that in the end times his family would help what she called 'the angel'. My father became obsessed with discovering who this was, and why she needed our help. He spent the rest of his life in that quest, but never discovered who she would be. He discovered all sorts of text and left them to me upon his death back in nineteen eighty nine. The things he had marked made no since to me what so ever, so I left them and paid them no mind for the better part of ten years.
"Then, one day about a year or so ago, I ran into a man-well, a demon actually, who informed me of a vampiress who had been brought back as a human, and I remembered something I read in one of my fathers markings. This was speaking of the miracle child and how his mother would be twice sired."
"There was a vampire who was human and was sired again?" Spike repeated as the words tried to sink in.
"Yes. I believe you know her. Her name is Darla."
Spike nearly fell out of his chair at this news. Darla?! Darla was among the living again?! Bet the poof was thrilled about that one.
"But she is not important. What is, is that the child was born in November, which stepped up my search. You see, the miracle child is the forerunner for the angel, a guide if you will, for when she is older. I only had a few clues to go on, and then I got my big break. There was a rumor circulating in the demon community about a woman who was commission to make a damphyr. Suddenly, things in my father's notes were making prefect since. 'A light, a darkness, she is a shadow. Exciting from both, living for one.' At least, that's what the Codex said before my father lost it."
Spike's eyes narrow slightly as he understood what the man was saying. "You think Dylan is this 'angel'. Don't you?"
"I know she is," he stated flatly. "Everything fits. Her parents, the day she was born, everything." He leaned in closer, as if he were telling Spike some huge secret. "Your daughter has been sent to save the world. You should feel pride for that."
The vampire clenched his teeth as his hands clamped down on the arm rest.
"The only thing I feel is pity for anyone who comes near her," he hissed.
Becket leaned back in his seat and sighed. He wasn't angry or sad by the man's reaction to the news about his child. It was almost as if he expected it. A kind chuckle escaped from him as he shook his head.
"You miss understand my intention. I am simply here to offer protection for the child for the time being. To help you and the Slayer along until such a time comes that we must part our ways, nothing more." He paused for a moment, letting Spike read his expression and know he spoke the truth. "If you wish, I can even assist you with your 'Lang' problem. I am a very powerful man, Spike, offering my serves for free because this was my fathers' quest and now mine. I believe in this. I will protect the girl with all my being, as I expect you and the slayer will. The child what's important, nothing else."
Spike sighed as he leaned back in the chair, relaxing slightly for the first time since they arrived.
"That, mate, is at least something we can agree on."
******
Travers stood at his office window, staring out into the London night. Usually, this time of year, it was snowing and the sky was not viable. Tonight, however, it was clear. Racing across the sky was the comet he fully expected to see, marking the beginning of his valuable projects life.
It had appeared a few hours before, very faint at first and even dimmer from the lights of the city, but it had gotten brighter. By morning, it would be gone, and, those not fortunate enough to look up in the sky that night, would never even know it had been there.
He had received a call a bit before from his men. They had found one of the scout groups dead on the roof of a hospital in Prague where a young woman matching the description of the slayer had had a child then suddenly disappeared with it. Needless to say, the hospital was worried of being sue should something happen to the mother and child, but he had a feeling they would never hear from them again.
They had someone helping them, he knew that now. The slayer was busy having the child, and the vampire wouldn't have been unable to fight back against the humans that he sent, yet they lay in the snow dead with broken necks. Whoever they had helping them was good, he would admit that, but who could it be?
He had ordered look outs for every hospital placed within five hundred miles of the city, but they had all come up empty thus far. No. Whoever was with them now probably had their own doctors looking after the mother and child. But he wasn't giving up yet. After all, tomorrow would be another day.
******
Spike came to the door of Buffy's room just as it opened and Rosemary stepped out. She jumped slightly in surprise from seeing him, and, shamefully, he did the same. It had just been a long night, which, thank goodness, was almost over. Silently, she pushed past him and disappeared into the hall as he went inside.
Buffy was up now, standing over the nice and, now that he really looked at it, expensive crib. That must the only kind of taste Becket had. She had Dylan in her arms, swaying slightly as she cooed at the child. Her body tensed for a moment as she shot a glance over her shoulder at the door, but he simply held up his hands and smiled to show her it was just him.
"Didn't mean to startle you, love," he said as he slowly approached them.
Buffy snorted as she turned her attention back to the baby. "Don't flatter yourself."
He came up beside her and looked down at the small wonder she held. Becket had been right, nothing else mattered but this kid. They might not share the reasoning, but they did share that.
"So, this is that Catherine girls digs, hu?" Buffy asked.
"Her fathers, or one of them anyway. Right interestin' fellow," he said as he reached over and gently touched the child chin.
That was when he realized that had actually been the first physical contact he had ever had with his daughter. As if sensing who he was, Dylan reached up and wrapped her tiny hand around the tip of his finger. He had no idea anything could be so small. The child giggled, and the slayer shook her head as she smiled.
"Oh, that's just great. I think she likes you," she said slyly.
"Well, you know how women love me," he said in sarcastic sweetness.
She rolled her eyes, then said to Dylan, "Please don't turn out like him. One cocky ass is enough."
"Language, love," he played as he took the child from her arms, went over to the bed, and sat down with her. Buffy followed, and sat next to him. "You shouldn't say those words in front of the kiddies."
"This coming from the man who once spouted out more absentees in one sentence then I knew existed because some kid cut him off in traffic."
"Yeah, well, I said you shouldn't swear. Never said nothin' about me."
She again shook her head, but kept her attention on the baby he had in his arms. He saw a frown slowly grow on her face as thought she had about what was going to happen to her weighed heavily on her mind. They probably mirrored his own fears and worries pretty closely, though she would never admit it.
"Don't worry, Slayer. We'll get though this."
With his free hand, he found hers resting next to him on the bed, and he took it. She looked at him for a moment, but didn't say anything. In fact, she seemed almost relieved to hear those words, even if she didn't fully believe it like him.
"We always do," she finished for him.
******