Part Four:
Evil
The coffee shop was crowded, but they had managed to find a large table in the back. Tara was rubbing Willow's back, an act that would seem innocent to a passerby. But though Willow remained calm and pretended to be unhurt, small tears of pain kept appearing in her eyes as she explained the story of the First Evil to Spike. Tara was muttering under her breath in Latin. Xander held a cup of iced coffee to his chin, but his jaw was swelling quickly. Spike leaned forward to pour some liquor into his hot drink and heard his shirt crunch with dried blood.
"After Angel came back from Acathla's dimension," Willow continued, "he started getting haunted by all the people he had killed. Something called the First Evil took credit for trying to drive Angel mad, and for bringing him back to our dimension in the first place. The First Evil took the form of Jenny Callendar, the teacher who had tried to restore Angel's soul, and had been murdered for it."
Spike nodded. He remembered who Jenny Callendar was now.
"The First Evil was apparently trying to get Angel to return to his evil ways and kill Buffy. It seems that now this creature is doing the same thing to Buffy."
"I don't get it," Spike said. "If the Big Bad Poof could get through it alright, Buffy should be able to."
"Angel was only haunted for a few days," Willow explained. "We found out what was going on and we were able to help him. But if the First Evil is doing the same thing to Buffy...it could've been going on since the moment Buffy died."
"Which is almost two months ago," Xander said.
"Imagine," Willow went on. "Spending two months in isolation, your only contact being with a powerful spirit intent on driving you insane."
Tara faltered in her Latin recitation.
"That's enough honey. Thanks." Willow said.
"I can barely..." Tara shivered at the memory. "I was trapped in my mind for only a few days, but it took two weeks for me to feel even remotely normal again. It must be horrible..."
Willow put her hand on Tara's shoulder and continued. "We still may be able to help Buffy, but we have to be able to get close to her, restrain her."
"And as long as she's still the Ass-Kicking-Chosen-One..." Xander said.
"We don't have a chance in hell," Spike finished.
The group fell into a sad silence as Giles walked over to the table.
"They're okay?" Xander asked.
Giles nodded. "I told them there had been a vampire attack, and to stay in the Magic Shop until we came for them." He sat down. "It's getting late, so we need only decide on a short-term plan of action."
"She's after us," Willow said. "We shouldn't go home."
"I agree," Giles said. "We should stay somewhere Buffy wouldn't think to look, and then gather again tomorrow. But perhaps Spike could stay out and patrol. Buffy will be relocating, and it would be a great help to us to know where she'll be."
"We could go to the motel by the train station," Xander said.
Willow nodded. "We should all be safe for the night if we stick together."
"Uh...excuse me," Spike said. "Can I say something?"
They looked at Spike expectantly as he slowly rose to his feet.
"YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF KNOBS!" he bellowed, and then he sat back down and gulped the rest of his drink.
"Care to elaborate?" Giles snapped sarcastically.
"What's a knob?" Xander asked.
"Let me ask you this," Spike said. "What is Buffy after? More than anything else, what is she after right now?"
"I'd guess us," Xander said. "She said she embraced her dark slayer mojo and was just getting started, so I'd bet she wants to prove it to us."
Spike shook his head. "If she's as far gone as she seems, she doesn't need any sodding validation. Try again." The table was silent. Spike sighed in frustration and gestured at Giles. "Come on, Rupes! Haven't you figured it all out yet, with your enormous squishy frontal lobes?"
Four sets of eyes stared at Spike, unblinking.
"Dawn, you worthless lot of buggering bastards!" Spike stood up and leaned forward on the table. "If Buffy's as bad as this Hallucino-Spirit would have us believe, wouldn't she go for vengeance? Wouldn't she want to kill the one person she could blame for causing her death?"
"That's... certainly possible," Giles said slowly.
"And if Super-Evil-Buffy gets to Dawn, or any of us, *I'm* the bloke you want there. Sure, she's stronger than me, but I can give her a run for her money, or at least hold her off while you lot scurry away like rats. None of you pansies are near as tough as I am, so-"
With a flick of Willow's wrist, Spike's hands came out from under him and he banged his head on the table.
"Bloody hell!" he screamed as he fell back into his chair, hand to his head.
"Let's not get into an argument about who's strongest," Willow said. "But Spike's right on one count. Dawn could be in danger, and he should be the one to protect her."
Spike straightened up, still wincing from the pain. "Sure, Red, if you don't mind protecting *me*." He smirked. "Wouldn't mind sharing a room with you, especially if you took out some of your old leather and let me -" Spike's head hit the table again, this time with even more force. "ARGH!"
He looked back up just as Tara was lowering her hand.
"Bloody crazed lesbian witches," Spike muttered.
*
Dawn groaned and tapped her fingers on the countertop. She was tired of waiting. Since when were some vampires such a big deal anyway?
"Anya?"
Anya looked up from the shelf behind the counter where she was doing inventory. "Yes?"
"I was wondering," Dawn said. "When you were a demon, were you like, really evil?"
"Hm," Anya replied. "Not *really* evil. Moderately evil, perhaps."
Dawn grabbed a pair of chicken feet off the counter and started playing with them. "Are all demons evil?"
"Most are. But there are plenty who are regular people. They just want to live a good life, find someone they love, get married..."
"What about vampires? I mean," Dawn continued. "Are vampires *always* evil?"
Anya put down her papers and turned to face Dawn. "You're worried about Spike, aren't you?" She made a dismissive wave of her hand. "You shouldn't be. He's not evil."
Dawn was surprised. "But how can you be so sure?"
"Willow told me," Anya replied confidently.
"And how does Willow know?"
"That's right," Anya said. "You weren't around when she told us all what happened." Anya hesitated. "During the fight with Glory, someone needed to get to you, to help you. But all the scabby minions were blocking the way. Willow saw a way around this, but she was hurt, and she was too far away to talk to anyone. So she sent a message to Spike, telepathically, telling him to run for it, and then she and Tara used magic to keep the minions from stopping him."
"All that means is that Spike was trying to help Buffy," Dawn argued.
Anya shook her head. "That's not the point. The point is that Willow was in Spike's mind. She sent him a message, which isn't really all that hard for a witch. But - she was able to read his thoughts."
"So?" Dawn said. Then it hit her. "Wait a minute. That one time, when Buffy was telepathic, she couldn't read Angel's thoughts." Dawn chuckled. "I remember because she was practicing on me. But when she read my mind she found out that I snooped in her diary, and she didn't speak to me for a week." A laugh caught itself in Dawn's throat. "I miss her so much. And...and I like Spike. He's been nice to me. But I can't help but think..."
"He's not evil," Anya said. "The plain fact that Willow can read his thoughts, when it should be impossible, proves that something is up. I was a demon for a long time, and when you met one that didn't conform to the normal rules, you knew there was something special about them. Something more than any old evil power. Something higher."
Dawn considered this. "Really? Higher?"
Anya nodded. "Also, Willow said that when she was reading Spike's mind then, all he was thinking about was you."
Dawn put down the chicken feet and smiled.
*
The motel by the railroad station was built back when railroads were the new and exciting way to travel. So when Spike and Dawn checked into their room, they were greeted by peeling wallpaper and an uneven floor.
"This is grosser than your crypt was," Dawn said, tossing her backpack on one of the double beds. "And do vamps have no sense of smell? Cause no offense, but your place stunk." She went to the TV and began inspecting it.
Spike took special care in locking the door and pulling the blinds shut. "It's too late for anything good to be on the telly," he told her.
Dawn picked a laminated piece of paper up from the dresser beside the TV. "Sure there is, it just says you have to pay for it." She read through the list. "What kinds of movies are *these*?"
Spike snatched the paper out of her hand and stuffed it in a drawer. Dawn giggled. She'd known exactly what she'd been looking at, and was just trying to get a rise out of Spike.
Spike playfully pushed her shoulder. "Come on, little bit, get ready for bed."
Dawn went to her backpack, sat on the bed cross-legged, and began rifling through her things. "I don't see why we couldn't just stay at that other motel again."
Spike turned away so that she wouldn't see the panic in his eyes.
Dawn brushed her hair, put it up in a ponytail, and then proclaimed that she was ready for bed.
"You've been wearing those clothes for two days," Spike said. "You don't have anything else with you?"
Dawn shook her head. "And if that was an invitation to buy me stuff, I accept." She giggled again. Something must have happened at the Magic Shop to make her cheerful. Which only made what Spike had to do that much harder.
"At least tell me you've got a bloody toothbrush, girl."
Dawn rolled her eyes, pulled a toothbrush out of her bag, and went into the bathroom.
Spike sat down on the other bed and put his head in his hands. When he had insisted he stay with Dawn, the burden of telling her about her sister's reappearance fell to him. Even if he was able to fully explain it, he didn't know how he would be able to stand being witness to Dawn's reaction.
When Dawn came out of the bathroom, she took a few big steps, and then made a flying leap onto the bed. She jumped on it a few times before falling into a sitting position. She looked over to see Spike sitting on his bed with his shirt off, and using it to scrub flakes of dried blood off his chest.
"Ew," she said.
"Come here, I've got a present for you."
"Really?"
Dawn bounded over to Spike and sat beside him. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a necklace. It had a thin gold chain, and a small gold pendant shaped like a sun. He put it into her hand.
"It's beautiful. Thank you." She tore her gaze from the piece of jewelry and looked up at him suspiciously. "Tell me you didn't steal it."
Spike grinned. "I didn't steal it."
"Liar."
Spike's smile faded slowly as he watched Dawn pull her thick hair back and put on the necklace. Something about jewelry always made a girl look older. On most it was ridiculous, like a little girl dressed up in her mother's things. Spike had seen plenty of these types in his time, striding down city streets at night, holding their heads high with false pride and flirting with grown men. He thought of this behavior as distinctly American, and completely repulsive. In the old days he wouldn't drink from a girl like that even if he was starving.
But Dawn wasn't like that. As she arranged the pendant on top of her small cotton shirt, Spike could see the woman in her. Perhaps it was the events of the past six months: finding out about her origin, losing her mother, fearing for her life, and watching her sister die. Trauma could make a person grow up really fast.
"Something's happening," Spike said ominously. "Something bad."
Dawn nodded. "I figured as much." She noticed Spike's pained expression and touched his bare shoulder. It was firm and cold, and the warmth of her soft hand seemed to melt into his flesh. "Don't worry; I can deal. You've been so good to me. I just wonder: Who's going to look after you?"
Spike chuckled sadly. "Demons, monsters. Aren't these things supposed to take care of themselves?"
"Like...a higher power guiding us?"
"I'm pretty sure that's not what I meant, nibblet."
They sat completely still for a moment, knowing that there were words needing to be said, but unsure of how to begin. Finally Dawn took a deep breath and put her hand to her chest, where she fingered the tiny gold sun. "Buffy," she said - and it seemed as if it had taken all the energy in her small body to speak her name, "told me that the hardest thing to do in the world is live in it. She told me I have to be brave." Their eyes locked, Spike's quick and nervous, Dawn's calm, understanding, and seeming to sparkle with the ancient energy that had formed her "You're brave, Spike. And as long as you're around, I can be too. Tell me."
Evil
The coffee shop was crowded, but they had managed to find a large table in the back. Tara was rubbing Willow's back, an act that would seem innocent to a passerby. But though Willow remained calm and pretended to be unhurt, small tears of pain kept appearing in her eyes as she explained the story of the First Evil to Spike. Tara was muttering under her breath in Latin. Xander held a cup of iced coffee to his chin, but his jaw was swelling quickly. Spike leaned forward to pour some liquor into his hot drink and heard his shirt crunch with dried blood.
"After Angel came back from Acathla's dimension," Willow continued, "he started getting haunted by all the people he had killed. Something called the First Evil took credit for trying to drive Angel mad, and for bringing him back to our dimension in the first place. The First Evil took the form of Jenny Callendar, the teacher who had tried to restore Angel's soul, and had been murdered for it."
Spike nodded. He remembered who Jenny Callendar was now.
"The First Evil was apparently trying to get Angel to return to his evil ways and kill Buffy. It seems that now this creature is doing the same thing to Buffy."
"I don't get it," Spike said. "If the Big Bad Poof could get through it alright, Buffy should be able to."
"Angel was only haunted for a few days," Willow explained. "We found out what was going on and we were able to help him. But if the First Evil is doing the same thing to Buffy...it could've been going on since the moment Buffy died."
"Which is almost two months ago," Xander said.
"Imagine," Willow went on. "Spending two months in isolation, your only contact being with a powerful spirit intent on driving you insane."
Tara faltered in her Latin recitation.
"That's enough honey. Thanks." Willow said.
"I can barely..." Tara shivered at the memory. "I was trapped in my mind for only a few days, but it took two weeks for me to feel even remotely normal again. It must be horrible..."
Willow put her hand on Tara's shoulder and continued. "We still may be able to help Buffy, but we have to be able to get close to her, restrain her."
"And as long as she's still the Ass-Kicking-Chosen-One..." Xander said.
"We don't have a chance in hell," Spike finished.
The group fell into a sad silence as Giles walked over to the table.
"They're okay?" Xander asked.
Giles nodded. "I told them there had been a vampire attack, and to stay in the Magic Shop until we came for them." He sat down. "It's getting late, so we need only decide on a short-term plan of action."
"She's after us," Willow said. "We shouldn't go home."
"I agree," Giles said. "We should stay somewhere Buffy wouldn't think to look, and then gather again tomorrow. But perhaps Spike could stay out and patrol. Buffy will be relocating, and it would be a great help to us to know where she'll be."
"We could go to the motel by the train station," Xander said.
Willow nodded. "We should all be safe for the night if we stick together."
"Uh...excuse me," Spike said. "Can I say something?"
They looked at Spike expectantly as he slowly rose to his feet.
"YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF KNOBS!" he bellowed, and then he sat back down and gulped the rest of his drink.
"Care to elaborate?" Giles snapped sarcastically.
"What's a knob?" Xander asked.
"Let me ask you this," Spike said. "What is Buffy after? More than anything else, what is she after right now?"
"I'd guess us," Xander said. "She said she embraced her dark slayer mojo and was just getting started, so I'd bet she wants to prove it to us."
Spike shook his head. "If she's as far gone as she seems, she doesn't need any sodding validation. Try again." The table was silent. Spike sighed in frustration and gestured at Giles. "Come on, Rupes! Haven't you figured it all out yet, with your enormous squishy frontal lobes?"
Four sets of eyes stared at Spike, unblinking.
"Dawn, you worthless lot of buggering bastards!" Spike stood up and leaned forward on the table. "If Buffy's as bad as this Hallucino-Spirit would have us believe, wouldn't she go for vengeance? Wouldn't she want to kill the one person she could blame for causing her death?"
"That's... certainly possible," Giles said slowly.
"And if Super-Evil-Buffy gets to Dawn, or any of us, *I'm* the bloke you want there. Sure, she's stronger than me, but I can give her a run for her money, or at least hold her off while you lot scurry away like rats. None of you pansies are near as tough as I am, so-"
With a flick of Willow's wrist, Spike's hands came out from under him and he banged his head on the table.
"Bloody hell!" he screamed as he fell back into his chair, hand to his head.
"Let's not get into an argument about who's strongest," Willow said. "But Spike's right on one count. Dawn could be in danger, and he should be the one to protect her."
Spike straightened up, still wincing from the pain. "Sure, Red, if you don't mind protecting *me*." He smirked. "Wouldn't mind sharing a room with you, especially if you took out some of your old leather and let me -" Spike's head hit the table again, this time with even more force. "ARGH!"
He looked back up just as Tara was lowering her hand.
"Bloody crazed lesbian witches," Spike muttered.
*
Dawn groaned and tapped her fingers on the countertop. She was tired of waiting. Since when were some vampires such a big deal anyway?
"Anya?"
Anya looked up from the shelf behind the counter where she was doing inventory. "Yes?"
"I was wondering," Dawn said. "When you were a demon, were you like, really evil?"
"Hm," Anya replied. "Not *really* evil. Moderately evil, perhaps."
Dawn grabbed a pair of chicken feet off the counter and started playing with them. "Are all demons evil?"
"Most are. But there are plenty who are regular people. They just want to live a good life, find someone they love, get married..."
"What about vampires? I mean," Dawn continued. "Are vampires *always* evil?"
Anya put down her papers and turned to face Dawn. "You're worried about Spike, aren't you?" She made a dismissive wave of her hand. "You shouldn't be. He's not evil."
Dawn was surprised. "But how can you be so sure?"
"Willow told me," Anya replied confidently.
"And how does Willow know?"
"That's right," Anya said. "You weren't around when she told us all what happened." Anya hesitated. "During the fight with Glory, someone needed to get to you, to help you. But all the scabby minions were blocking the way. Willow saw a way around this, but she was hurt, and she was too far away to talk to anyone. So she sent a message to Spike, telepathically, telling him to run for it, and then she and Tara used magic to keep the minions from stopping him."
"All that means is that Spike was trying to help Buffy," Dawn argued.
Anya shook her head. "That's not the point. The point is that Willow was in Spike's mind. She sent him a message, which isn't really all that hard for a witch. But - she was able to read his thoughts."
"So?" Dawn said. Then it hit her. "Wait a minute. That one time, when Buffy was telepathic, she couldn't read Angel's thoughts." Dawn chuckled. "I remember because she was practicing on me. But when she read my mind she found out that I snooped in her diary, and she didn't speak to me for a week." A laugh caught itself in Dawn's throat. "I miss her so much. And...and I like Spike. He's been nice to me. But I can't help but think..."
"He's not evil," Anya said. "The plain fact that Willow can read his thoughts, when it should be impossible, proves that something is up. I was a demon for a long time, and when you met one that didn't conform to the normal rules, you knew there was something special about them. Something more than any old evil power. Something higher."
Dawn considered this. "Really? Higher?"
Anya nodded. "Also, Willow said that when she was reading Spike's mind then, all he was thinking about was you."
Dawn put down the chicken feet and smiled.
*
The motel by the railroad station was built back when railroads were the new and exciting way to travel. So when Spike and Dawn checked into their room, they were greeted by peeling wallpaper and an uneven floor.
"This is grosser than your crypt was," Dawn said, tossing her backpack on one of the double beds. "And do vamps have no sense of smell? Cause no offense, but your place stunk." She went to the TV and began inspecting it.
Spike took special care in locking the door and pulling the blinds shut. "It's too late for anything good to be on the telly," he told her.
Dawn picked a laminated piece of paper up from the dresser beside the TV. "Sure there is, it just says you have to pay for it." She read through the list. "What kinds of movies are *these*?"
Spike snatched the paper out of her hand and stuffed it in a drawer. Dawn giggled. She'd known exactly what she'd been looking at, and was just trying to get a rise out of Spike.
Spike playfully pushed her shoulder. "Come on, little bit, get ready for bed."
Dawn went to her backpack, sat on the bed cross-legged, and began rifling through her things. "I don't see why we couldn't just stay at that other motel again."
Spike turned away so that she wouldn't see the panic in his eyes.
Dawn brushed her hair, put it up in a ponytail, and then proclaimed that she was ready for bed.
"You've been wearing those clothes for two days," Spike said. "You don't have anything else with you?"
Dawn shook her head. "And if that was an invitation to buy me stuff, I accept." She giggled again. Something must have happened at the Magic Shop to make her cheerful. Which only made what Spike had to do that much harder.
"At least tell me you've got a bloody toothbrush, girl."
Dawn rolled her eyes, pulled a toothbrush out of her bag, and went into the bathroom.
Spike sat down on the other bed and put his head in his hands. When he had insisted he stay with Dawn, the burden of telling her about her sister's reappearance fell to him. Even if he was able to fully explain it, he didn't know how he would be able to stand being witness to Dawn's reaction.
When Dawn came out of the bathroom, she took a few big steps, and then made a flying leap onto the bed. She jumped on it a few times before falling into a sitting position. She looked over to see Spike sitting on his bed with his shirt off, and using it to scrub flakes of dried blood off his chest.
"Ew," she said.
"Come here, I've got a present for you."
"Really?"
Dawn bounded over to Spike and sat beside him. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a necklace. It had a thin gold chain, and a small gold pendant shaped like a sun. He put it into her hand.
"It's beautiful. Thank you." She tore her gaze from the piece of jewelry and looked up at him suspiciously. "Tell me you didn't steal it."
Spike grinned. "I didn't steal it."
"Liar."
Spike's smile faded slowly as he watched Dawn pull her thick hair back and put on the necklace. Something about jewelry always made a girl look older. On most it was ridiculous, like a little girl dressed up in her mother's things. Spike had seen plenty of these types in his time, striding down city streets at night, holding their heads high with false pride and flirting with grown men. He thought of this behavior as distinctly American, and completely repulsive. In the old days he wouldn't drink from a girl like that even if he was starving.
But Dawn wasn't like that. As she arranged the pendant on top of her small cotton shirt, Spike could see the woman in her. Perhaps it was the events of the past six months: finding out about her origin, losing her mother, fearing for her life, and watching her sister die. Trauma could make a person grow up really fast.
"Something's happening," Spike said ominously. "Something bad."
Dawn nodded. "I figured as much." She noticed Spike's pained expression and touched his bare shoulder. It was firm and cold, and the warmth of her soft hand seemed to melt into his flesh. "Don't worry; I can deal. You've been so good to me. I just wonder: Who's going to look after you?"
Spike chuckled sadly. "Demons, monsters. Aren't these things supposed to take care of themselves?"
"Like...a higher power guiding us?"
"I'm pretty sure that's not what I meant, nibblet."
They sat completely still for a moment, knowing that there were words needing to be said, but unsure of how to begin. Finally Dawn took a deep breath and put her hand to her chest, where she fingered the tiny gold sun. "Buffy," she said - and it seemed as if it had taken all the energy in her small body to speak her name, "told me that the hardest thing to do in the world is live in it. She told me I have to be brave." Their eyes locked, Spike's quick and nervous, Dawn's calm, understanding, and seeming to sparkle with the ancient energy that had formed her "You're brave, Spike. And as long as you're around, I can be too. Tell me."
