Chapter Notes: Sorry it's been so long.

"Stupid Giles, making me question things," I mutter as I walk home as quickly as I can. I didn't want to leave Mom and Dawn alone, but I needed to patrol – and find Spike.

I don't know if I should be angry or worried that he didn't show.

I mean, it's not like we arranged to meet up. There really wasn't any time to make plans with three psychotic vampires to worry about, but their arrival should've been enough for Spike to realize that I'll want to talk to him again. On the other hand, he could know that I want to talk to him but can't get to me because the other three are torturing him, or something.

They definitely sound like the kind of family whose idea of family bonding is torturing one another. And considering that the books all say that Angelus is the torture king…

I don't know what would be worse, that option or the third option that Giles stuck in my head; that Spike has cut off all ties with me now that his family is back. It was kind of obvious that he really doesn't like them, maybe not even Drusilla anymore, but they're his own kind – and more importantly, they're his family.

Me? I'm just a Slayer – a killer of his kind. Why can't I get it through my head that whatever we had over the past few days can't go on?

But damn it, I actually think of him as my friend now. That's the only reason why it hurts whenever I think about him leaving, or worse, sticking with his family. It's stupid and ridiculous to think like this – he's a vampire, leaving would be best for both of us, and why wouldn't he want to stick with his own family – but I can't help it. Spike's grown on me, like one of those stupid weeds which has pretty flowers but eventually destroys your lawn.

I've really gotta come up with better analogies.

Home comes into view and I cut across the grass in order to reach the door faster. I hurry inside. "Mom?"

"Buffy! In here!"

There's slight panic in her voice. Something's wrong. But she's not screaming, so it can't be Angelus or the other two. The Council?

I run, following Mom's voice into the kitchen, but instead of finding Council lackeys threatening Mom and Dawn – or Mom threatening some unlucky Council lackeys – I find the first aid kit open on the kitchen island and the two members of my family fussing over a beaten and injured Spike.

So it was the torture thing, after all.

He looks terrible. There are cuts all over his body, most likely from a knife, though some look like they were from claws – or nails sharp enough to be claws. Drusilla's work, probably. I can't help but notice that the cuts look precise; they're not just random slashes. There's no doubt that Angelus took his time with each and every one of them.

There's also bruising in lots of places, but the one I notice the most is the one that covers almost a quarter of his face, including his left eye, which has been swollen shut.

His duster has been placed almost lovingly besides the first aid kit on the island, and both his red button-up shirt and black t-shirt are bunched up in a ball by the door leading down to the basement. Both are covered in blood stains and the red shirt has been ripped beyond repair.

But if his shirts are on the floor then what's he…?

I turn back to him and my eyes widen a little with the realization that yes, Spike's chest and freaking six pack are on full display. I feel a little stupid that I didn't notice it before when I was focussed on the cuts and bruises all over him, which I guess means I have my priorities straight because I should be more focussed on his wounds instead of the marble Greek statue perfectness that's sat in my kitchen only a few feet away…

Gah! Bad Buffy brain! No ogling the wounded vampire.

"Buffy?"

I blink. All three of them are staring at me, and I wonder how long I've been standing here just staring at Spike's…well, that. I blush a little. "Spike…I'm…" God, it's my fault he looks like this.

He shakes his head. "No need to apologize for anything, pet. Not your fault."

"He came here looking for you," Mom explains. "I told him that you'd gone out on patrol, and to look for him, too."

"Wanted to come straight out and find you, but they cornered me and wouldn't let me leave until I let them patch me up," Spike says. He tries to sound annoyed, but the beginnings of a smile on his lips tells me all I need to know about what he really thinks of their fussing. "Never stood a bloody chance."

"Language," Mom scolds him. Spike huffs but he doesn't argue.

"He could barely walk," says Dawn. "We had to keep him here."

My gaze drifts down to his legs, which are still covered by his black jeans. They look OK…

I look up and my eyes meet his. "Did you drag yourself all the way over here? Are you insane?"

"The Bit's over-exaggeratin'. I can walk." To prove it he hops down from the counter. His legs wobble a little and he has to pause for a moment, but he remains standing. "You think I'd crawl all the way over here in a town like this? You're off your rocker."

"Yeah, well…you're off your rocker, whatever the hell that means," He chuckles at me, but I ignore him, "for coming here at all. You may be walking, but Xander could probably take you right now. Imagine what another demon could do to you."

"Don't need to imagine it, luv." He gestures to himself.

I wince. OK, that was probably a poor choice of words. "Sorry."

"So," Dawn throws her damp cloth into the sink before turning to me with her arms crossed, "are you gonna beat up the vamps who did this to him? Spike says I can't because they're too dangerous."

"Probably too dangerous for big sis, too," Spike says.

"Doesn't matter," I tell him. "I'm the Slayer. It's my job to fight bad guys. And I'm with Dawn on wanting to beat them up for doing this to you."

There's a flash of surprise – and maybe awe – in his eyes, but it's gone again as quickly as it came.

"Honey, are you sure you can handle them?" Mom asks. "Spike hasn't told us much about these vampires, but they sound horrible."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Mom, they're vampires. Ergo, part of my job, like I just said. And I kill vampires every night. No big."

"Err, yeah, big." OK, Spike shouldn't try to talk like me ever again. It sounds weird with his accent. "These aren't your run-of-the-mill vamps you'll find holed up at Willy's. These are the vamps that other vamps fear."

Instead of resisting the urge again I just give in and roll my eyes. "Spike, I'm trying to stop my mother from worrying, and you're really not helping."

"I've never stopped worrying about you, Buffy, and I never will," Mom says. "But now I have a reason to worry more."

I know she has a point, and really, I'm just as worried that the new Fang Gang will come after my family and friends. Angelus did say something about pushing my buttons and breaking me…

"I won't be alone," I say. "Everyone's helping out, and I have Kendra."

Spike scoffs. "You really think she'll last even one second against those three?"

"I'll give her my own brand of Buffy training," I tell him. "Make her more street smart."

"You don't have to just rely on Kendra," Dawn says. "You have Spike, too."

At this Spike lowers his gaze, as if he's suddenly spotted something interesting on the floor. I recall that he did the same thing last night before telling me he was gonna leave. So what does it mean this time? He's not leaving, since his family is here now, so what?

"Spike?"

He looks up again, his eyes meeting mine, before he nods in the direction of the front door. "Talk outside?"

So it's something he doesn't want Mom and Dawn to hear. That can't be good.

"Sure," I say.

Mom and Dawn don't argue; I expect Dawn to, but instead she joins Mom in cleaning up the first aid supplies. She's just being good because Spike's here. Why can't she behave like this with me?

"Thanks," Spike says to the both of them. "Appreciate this." He gestures to himself while picking up the black t-shirt that's still stained with blood.

"Anytime, Spike." Mom sends him a smile in return while Dawn quickly crosses the room to hug him.

Spike takes a small step back when she does, and he stares down at her in surprise – with a little bit of awe thrown in, like last time. But when he gently returns the hug I see another emotion in his eyes: sadness.

I start to worry about what he's gonna tell me.

After slipping his t-shirt back on Spike retrieves his duster and we make our way outside to stand under the tree that's next to my bedroom window. I expect Spike to start talking right away, but instead he takes out a pack of cigarettes, fishes one out and lights it up. He inhales like the smoke is his source of oxygen.

"You know those will kill you, right?" I say with a raised eyebrow.

All I get is a raised eyebrow in return, and while I said it as a joke it really is that easy to forget that he's not human.

He takes the cigarette from his mouth and holds it between his fingers. "Slayer…" he begins, but doesn't know what else to say; he just stares at the ground again, and it really gets me worrying about what he wants to tell me. If it's too hard for him to put into words…

I wonder if temporarily changing the subject will help. "Did they hurt you as badly as you look?"

He gives a little chuckle. "Don't go worryin' over me. I've had worse. Angelus uses any and every bloody excuse under the sun to torture me – or Dru, or Darla, dependin' on his mood. Today's reason was lettin' myself get captured by the Council of Wankers – and lettin' you get away."

I look down. "So it is my fault. Spike, I'm sorry-"

"This isn't your fault, alright," he assures me, looking me dead in the eye. "It's mine for lettn' myself get captured in the first place. 'Course then I never would've met you…" He trails off with this little adorable smile on his face, and I can't help but smile back. "What is it with you Slayers and blamin' yourselves all the bloody time?"

My smile falls. "Because every time I stake a fledge, I'm staking someone who I could have saved. I see vamps who look like they were someone's mother, or sister…" A few weeks ago, I had to stake a vamp who could've easily been a regular at Mom's gallery, and who had a similar fashion sense to Mom. The only thought that ran through my head as her dust settled was 'I wonder whose mom she was?'

"See? This is why Slayers are too young," says Spike. "The weight of duty is too much for them, and they harden into a bloody robot because it's too painful for them to feel anything. Grown men can barely stand this amount of responsibility."

"I just wish I could save everyone."

He lays his hand on my shoulder. "Even if you were more powerful than you are now, or if there were thousands of you, you wouldn't be able to save everyone. Things happen all the time, luv. It's impossible to be everywhere in the world. And honestly, seein' what I've seen over a hundred plus years…not everyone deserves to be saved. Take the Council of Wankers, for instance…"

I smile again, but only a little. "God, the Council seem like mild inconveniences compared to your family. Do you think they can put aside their differences when they learn about the new players in town?"

"Hard to say." Spike shrugs, looking down at his feet once again with that hesitant look on his face.

I've had enough. "Alright, that's it. What do you wanna tell me, Spike? I've already got the memo that I'm not gonna like it, so you might as well just spit it out."

He sighs. "Alright, luv. Well, first thing's first, they're stayin', though I s'pose you knew that already."

"It wasn't hard to connect the dots after what happened last night," I say. "So, is Angelus…?"

"He took a gander at you and fell into obsession," says Spike.

Part of me already knows this. The way he was looking at me last night… Hearing this really shouldn't surprise me, and it doesn't. But that doesn't mean I don't feel something that I've rarely ever felt: fear. I can count on one hand the times that my job has truly terrified me – that includes recently when I lost my powers – and after reading up on Angelus and knowing what he's capable of… The thought of him directing all that on me…

"So…what happens now?" I ask Spike. He has to help me. He knows Angelus better than anyone. I need his help.

"Things will be quiet for about two weeks," he explains. "Once he's delivered his first message- Wait, have you received anything from him?" I shake my head. "That'll be comin' soon, then. Either tonight or tomorrow night. But once you've got it, he'll wait for around two weeks – maybe longer, maybe shorter, all depends on how you react."

"Why wait?"

"It's his first form of torture," Spike explains. "Patience can cause fear. If you had no idea when he was gonna strike, wouldn't you be beside yourself with worry? Always lookin' over your shoulder, always too afraid to go to sleep, always worryin' about what he could do to your friends and family when you're not with them…"

I see his point. "I can see how that would be torture. So, two weeks?"

"Give or take a few days, yeah." Spike nods. "Then he'll start leavin' gifts. The first few will be harmless enough, but the more he leaves, the more brutal they are. You heard what I said about the puppies, right?"

I shudder. "Yeah."

"Watch yourself on Valentine's," Spike adds. "He makes his so-called "best" masterpieces on that day. He'll start turnin' people you know, too. Not close friends or family yet; just people you know from school, for instance. Classmates and such."

I bite my lip. "I won't let him get that far."

"You say that, but he's a bloody powerful vamp, luv," Spike says. "It'll be hard to take him on, even for someone like you."

"I have to try," I tell him. "I can't just leave him to his own devices when he'll be killing people left and right. But…if it does get that far…when will he start killing the people closest to me?"

He shrugs again. "Depends on how you react to his other "gifts". It was always different with different girls."

It makes me sick that Spike knows all this. He wasn't responsible for anything Angelus did, but knowing he'd been watching every single time and did nothing to stop his grandsire or do anything to help those girls…

God, I've got to stop thinking like this. Spike's a vampire. An unusual one with a sense of fair play, but a vampire nonetheless. He's still evil despite what he's done for me. Why would he save some random girls he didn't even know from a member of his family? There's no reason why he would.

I freeze.

There's no reason why he would help me now.

Is there?

I think back to what Dawn said in the house – how I'll have Spike helping me – and the way Spike reacted. He lowered his head and asked if he could speak to me outside.

That can't mean… "What about you?" I have to ask. I have to know.

He avoids eye contact, like he knew this question was coming. And his expression says it all; telling me what I already fear is true.

That he's not gonna help me. That I'm alone on this one.

"Buffy…" He turns back at me and I can see the sadness in his deep blue eyes. "Pet…I can't… They're my family…"

"You don't know the meaning of the word," I spit. I can't help the hurt and anger that builds up inside me. Even though part of me was expecting this, the feelings still take over. "Drusilla may have turned you – they may be related to you in a vamp's own, twisted way – but I'm not blind, Spike. They couldn't care less about you. And you don't care about them, either."

"It's not about whether or not we care about each other, Buffy!" Spike suddenly yells. "We're vampires! It's never been about that! It's about obligations-"

"Screw obligations!" I yell back. "A true family sticks together, thick and thin! Family is the definition of love!"

"Not for my kind." His voice is low again and he turns away, the sadness overwhelming.

My anger starts to die, but the hurt still remains. He knows that what I'm saying is true; I can see it written all over his face. I'm suddenly reminded of the way he acted around Mom and Dawn; the way he treated them, the awe in his eyes at the way they treated him, how he stayed that night when he could've gone somewhere else, how he was helping Dawn with her homework, why he came here tonight…

Spike can love. His vampire family can't.

And he wants a family who can.

"Stay with us."

Spike turns back to me once more, his eyes wide with shock. "What?"

"Stay here. With us," I repeat. "Spike, you don't have to stay with them. Not now. Before… You didn't have anywhere else to go, did you? That's why you stayed."

"It's a bit more complicated than that, pet-"

"So stay here. You have somewhere to go now. You don't have to let them hurt you anymore."

I see it for only a few seconds; hope in his eyes, that he can escape his family and get away from them. But it's gone as quickly as it came – he can change emotion at the drop of a dime – and instead he backs away, shaking his head. "I can't…"

My anger starts to return. "Why not?"

"Use your bloody brain, Slayer!" he yells again. "If Angelus ever found out – and he will – he'll screw his plan and hurt the lot of you just to hurt me! I have to…I have to stay away from you, pet. From all of you."

I see his point. I really do. But I can't let Spike hurt himself just to protect me. I need to protect him, too. "But Spike, you don't have to be alone on this. Neither of us do. We can help each other…"

He rolls his eyes. "This isn't a bloody fairytale, Slayer. This isn't some chick flick where everyone lives happily ever after. This is the real world. I'm a vampire. You're a Slayer. Do you honestly think things will work out well for us?"

I can't answer, because the truth is too hard for me to say. "But…I…I thought you were my friend." And boy, doesn't that sound like a pathetic, desperate plea?

His eyes soften for only a moment before they forcibly harden themselves. "Was friendship ever in the cards for the likes of us?"

He didn't deny it. But his words still hurt. "So you won't help me?"

"Look, I can try and convince them to leave, but once Angelus sets his mind to something…"

So that's a 'no'. "Just get out of here, Spike. Thanks for the warning, but if you're not gonna help me fight and stay alive, then you're better off with your so-called "family". So stay away from mine, and stay out of my life."

"Buffy-"

But I don't wanna hear what he has to say. I've already heard enough. I turn and storm back inside the house, slamming the door shut behind me. I'm able to stop myself from using full Slayer strength at the last minute; it'll do none of us any good right now if I splinter the door into tiny little pieces.

"Buffy?" I turn to where Mom and Dawn are sat on the couch in the living room. The TV is on and the volume has been turned right up. Probably to intentionally drown out the sound of Spike and I arguing outside.

I take in a deep breath and try to get a hold of myself. "Everything's fine." I can't tell them what happened. They like Spike, and like before, I want them to have one final good memory of him. Deep down I know that none of this is his fault – he doesn't really have a choice – but it doesn't stop the hurt I feel at his betrayal.

OK, so maybe calling it a 'betrayal' is taking it a step to far…but that's how I feel right now.

I say my goodnights and head upstairs to my room. Then, when my door is closed and I'm sure they can't hear me, I lie down on my bed and cry.

And cry. And cry.

I can't help it. I know I'm acting like an idiot, letting myself feel things for a soulless vampire, but… Dammit, it's his fault for being so likable and so human…

When I open my eyes, I notice an envelope stuck between the crack in my window.

I remove it, and while part of me thinks it could be from Spike, another part of me feels the dread that this letter invokes.

I open it and find only one word written on the paper inside. I know immediately who it's from, and it's not Spike.

Soon.