A Time to Mourn

by Roxane

A sequel to my story "Aftermath", a post-Gift story.

Title:   A Time To Mourn

Author: Roxane

Feedback:  Send to roxsedai@nycap.rr.com

Archive: Sure, take it…just let me know where.

Spoilers: Up to and including the Gift

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer:  I own nothing.  I make nothing.  Here to write, wanna have fun.

Summary: A sequel to my story "Aftermath", which shall henceforth be called "A Time to Weep."  This will be an ongoing series…who knows how long it will last…

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn expelled one last shuddering breath and relaxed against him, but she made no move to leave the security of Spike's arms.  He continued to hold her until he felt her stifling a yawn against his shoulder.

"That's it, Niblet, time for bed."

She shook her head and clung tighter to him, but he used gentle force to push her away.  She stood swaying before him, barely able to keep her swollen eyes open.  With an exasperated click of his tongue, he swept her into his arms and carried her out of the living room and up the stairs to her bedroom.  He eased her onto the bed, covering her with a blanket when she rolled over onto her side.

"Don't leave," she commanded sleepily.

He sighed.  "I'll be downstairs."

She nodded and he could tell she was asleep midway through the movement.  He watched her sleeping form for a minute then quietly let himself out of the room, leaving the door ajar. He went into the living room and flung himself into the armchair, shoving his hand into his pocket to find his cigarettes.  He was just taking a long draft when Giles wandered into the room, teacup in hand.

"Where's Dawn?" the Watcher asked.

Spike waved the cigarette towards the ceiling without speaking, blowing the smoke out in one long stream.

"Is she asleep then?" Spike nodded in response. "With all she's been through, I'm sure she'll sleep a good while.  There's really no need for you to stay."

"I'm staying."

Giles blinked, his brow wrinkling as he contemplated the vampire, who very studiously ignored him.  Giles set his cup on the coffee table and settled onto the couch.  Spike sighed and shook his head when Giles spoke.

"I find it rather fascinating to observe a vampire who, to all intents and purposes, appears to have genuine feelings for humans."

"Certain humans," Spike muttered.

"Nevertheless, it's unheard of for a vampire to care, to love.  Of course, there was Angel – "

"Bloody hell, twice in one night!" 

Giles, lost in his analysis of the situation, ignored Spike's frustrated outburst.  "But then, Angel has a soul.  It begs the question, does love emanate from the soul?  Is it possible to love without a soul?  Are these feelings real or merely a twisted manifestation of desire and lust?"

"You do realize that I'm still in the room, don't you?"  Giles's eyes came back into focus as Spike added, "Feel free to keep the blathering to yourself."

"Sorry."

Spike began a mental count and had only reached nine when Giles spoke again.   The vampire sighed and slouched deeper into the armchair, wondering how long the pain would last if he knocked the Watcher silly.

"I can't help feeling there must be some higher purpose to all of this."  Giles took a sip of his tea, then waved the cup in the air as he continued.  "Why are you different from all other vampires?  Even Angel, once returned to his soulless self, abhorred Buffy, yet you love her.  That chip cannot make you love, it merely prevents you from harming humans."

"Wish I didn't have the bloody thing right now, let me tell you," Spike said under his breath.

"Vampires have been known to have what we would term human emotions, " Giles went on.  "The strange loyalty that a vampire has for his sire, for instance.  I suppose one could say that has something to do with a pack mentality, the respect an animal has for the alpha male, or female, as it were, but then again, Angel killed his sire for Buffy, and you were prepared to do the same to Drusilla."

"Fat lot of good that would have done me."

"Well, no, I should think not."  Giles's eyes narrowed as he thought.  "You loved Drusilla, therefore the capacity to love has always been in you.  Vampires have been known to take mates, but it has always been more of a possessive thing, a melding of strengths, while you seemed to genuinely care for her."

"Care for her?  I bloody worshipped her."

Giles regarded the vampire with a puzzled look on his face.  "How is it that you could love two women who are the absolute antithesis of each other?"

"Just lucky, I guess."

Ignoring the sarcasm, Giles rose to his feet, circling the room at a slow pace as he mulled over the possibilities.  "You were with Drusilla for over a hundred years.  What changed?  Could it be the chip?  Does preventing you from doing harm somehow allow your human side to resurface? Has your human side merely been dormant for all this time? Did the demon not possess all of you to begin with?  Could a portion of your soul still be intact?"

"Could you be any more dense?"  Spike surged to his feet and stepped into the Watcher's path. "You don't need a soul to love.  That's something you humans cling to to keep you warm at night.  Look at Dawn.  Doubt she has a soul, yet she loves and cares and hurts as much as any of you."

Giles stared at Spike, an arrested expression on his face.

"I loved Drusilla with everything that I was, everything she made me.  I embraced the evil, and her along with it."

"Then why – "

"It was Buffy, you bloody moron!  She changed everyone around her.  Look at Willow.  Do you think she would have ever discovered her powers without Buffy?  Or the Harris boy, a complete and total loser, who now wades straight into battle without hesitation, without benefit of superior strength or powers of any sort."

A small smile played about Giles's mouth.  "And you?"

"Oh, well, with me she did the complete opposite.  Took me from being gloriously evil to being a bloody mooning milksop.  I expect she's laughing about it right now…"

Pain flickered across his face and Spike turned away, lifting his cigarette to his mouth and inhaling deeply.  He let his head fall back, closing his eyes and letting the smoke out on a long, deep sigh.

"Dru made me want to be a better monster.  Buffy…"

He turned back to face Giles, meeting his eyes with unflinching honesty.

"Buffy made me want to be a better man."

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~

As morning neared, Spike moved around the silent house pulling the drapes closed.  Giles had finally, blessedly, fallen asleep on the sofa an hour before, and Spike found himself alone with his thoughts, unable to sleep.  As the pastel rays of first light began to creep over the horizon, he battled a fierce urge to just leave, to get as far away from all humans as he possibly could.  Not only did they all tend to yammer on, but caring for mortals was unbearably hard on a vampire.

Life - or unlife – used to be so simple.  You hunted, you fed, you shagged.  Yes, he'd adored Dru, but it had been so uncomplicated compared to this…this horrible aching shell he was left with.  And he couldn't even end the suffering, no, that would be too simple. Even without his promise to Buffy, he didn't think he could have left Dawn to fend for herself.  There was no telling what kind of trouble the sister of a Slayer might find herself in.  Many a demon might be looking to exact some sort of revenge now that the way seemed to be clear.

The girl had spirit, though. Had to give her that.  Summers women were nothing if not strong and resourceful.  Still, she felt she needed him, and that tugged at his heartstrings like nothing else could.  He'd promised Buffy, and now he'd promised her as well.

And this time he wouldn't fail them. 

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike heard the knock at the front door and ignored it, not particularly wanting to deal with any of the Scoobies just now.  Unfortunately, whoever was there was persistent and from his vantage point in the armchair in the living room, he saw Willow step through and ease the door shut behind her. She stood uncertainly in
the foyer until Spike took a drag on his cigarette, and she started when she
saw the tip flare.

"Oh. Spike. Hi."

"Will."

"I...What are you doing here?"

He blew the smoke out, regarding her through the haze with narrowed eyes.
"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see how Dawn was doing."

"Me, too. Fancy that."

"Is she..." She sat in the other armchair, lowering her voice when she
noticed Giles sleeping on the sofa. "How is she?"

"How would you think she is?"  She flinched slightly at his harsh tone. He
shook his head with a tired sigh and softened his voice. "She's scared.
She's feeling guilty. She's ...lost."

Willow looked down at her hands, nodding. She clasped her hands together to
keep them from trembling, but she couldn't keep a slight quake out of her
voice.

"What's going to happen now?"

"How the bloody hell should I know?"  He stood and flicked his used cigarette butt into the teacup on the coffee table.

 

"Will there be a new Slayer?"

He stood with his back to her, closing his eyes and bowing his head. "Does
it matter?"

"Yes, it matters."

The answer came quietly from Giles. He sat up when Spike and Willow
looked at him and answered the unspoken question in their eyes.

"The world is without a Slayer now. Glory may be gone, but there is still
all manner of evil to be fought."

"Won't another, I mean, doesn't this mean a new Slayer will be called?"
Willow asked.

"Kendra was called when Buffy..." He paused, swallowing the painful words. "...the last time. For a new Slayer to be called, Faith would have to die. Therefore, for the first time in centuries, there is no Slayer to protect the world.  Buffy should have thought of that."

Spike snorted. "Yes, God forbid the Slayer think of anything other than the bloody world.  The Slayer should be nothing more than a fighting machine, uncaring and unthinking, doing her duty and nothing else." 

"It's a sacred duty, Spike.  A Slayer is created to serve the world."

"The world above all else, is it?  And she gets no choice in this? Tell me, how is it that you humans can place so much stock in heart and soul and yet expect your Slayer not to have any?"

 "It was her heart that got her killed."

Spike stepped in front of Giles, speaking in a low yet forceful voice. "It was her heart that kept her alive as long as she was."

Willow angled her head towards the stairs.  "Uh…guys..."

Spike ignored her. "Don't you understand that she was more than just a demon exterminator?  That her very capacity to love was what made her so much greater than any other Slayer before her?  Take that away, and she's really no better than the demons she was fighting."

"I beg to – "

"Beg all you like, you – "

"Hey!" They turned as Willow stood and gave them a chiding look before heading for the stairs.  "I hear something."

Spike abruptly became aware of sounds coming from above, muffled whimpering cries.  With a stifled curse, he rushed past Willow, taking the stairs three at a time, Willow and Giles following as fast as their bruised human bodies would allow.  The sounds, cries of fear and pain, grew louder as he neared Dawn's room, and though he couldn't detect any signs of struggle, his eyes swept the room for possible intruders as soon as he shoved her door open.  Relief coursed through him to find no one but Dawn in the room, but that quickly faded as he saw her tossing fitfully in her bed, obviously struggling against the captors in her nightmare. 

"No!  Let me go!"

"Dawn." He sat next to her on the bed and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking gently.  She tried to jerk away from him, arms flailing, and he gripped her tighter, giving her a brisk shake.  "Dawn!  Wake up."

Willow sat on the opposite side of the bed.  "Don't hurt her."

Still holding Dawn, he shot Willow a dark look.  "I'm not hurting her, I'm trying to wake her before she hurts herself." 

With a sudden gasp, Dawn's body stiffened and her eyes flew wide.  "Buffy!"

Spike let go of her shoulders and rose to his feet, and Willow reached a hand over to give her hair a reassuring pat.  "It's okay, Dawnie, it was just a dream."

Dawn looked from Willow to Spike, her breath coming in soft pants. Pain filled her eyes and, drawing in a deep breath, she turned on her side and closed her eyes, shutting the two of them out.  "Yeah, right, just a dream."

Helpless to figure out how to comfort the girl, Willow looked at Spike.  He shrugged. She sighed and tried to inject as much cheer in her voice as possible.

"Hey, would you like some breakfast, Dawnie?  I could – "

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure?  I could make pancakes and …"  Her face brightened.  "Strawberries!  I bet you'd like some – "

"I said I'm not hungry."

"But – "

Spike broke in.  "She's not hungry.  Leave her be."

Willow looked from Dawn to Spike to Giles, who was hovering in the doorway.  Giles gave a slight shake of his head and Willow sighed.

"Okay, well, if you change your mind, I could make it in a snap.  Well, not a real snap, like snapping the fingers or anything magicky, but snappy quickness would be involved." She saw the look Spike was giving her and shut her mouth.  "Going now."

Spike watched Giles and Willow leave and heaved a dramatic sigh.  "Well, Little Bit, I hope you don't expect me to hang about down there with just those two for company.  I know I've done some evil things in my life, but no one deserves that torture."

She opened her eyes and graced him with the tiniest of smiles, and he answered with a slight smile of his own.  He turned and walked towards the door, pausing to throw an inquiring glance over his shoulder.

"Coming?"

She nodded and slowly rose from the bed, wincing as her wounds pulled at her.

"Actually, could you send Willow back up here?  The doctor told me to change the bandages every day, and I don't think I can reach all the way around."

"Will do."

 

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willow knocked on the closed door then poked her head into the room with a tentative smile. 

"Dawnie?  You need me?"

"Yeah.  Could you help me change my bandages?"

Willow stepped in, her smile broadening.  "Sure I can.  Be glad to."

Dawn eased her shirt over her head, revealing stark white bandages covering her torso.  She unfastened the tape holding the bandages in place and began to peel the white gauze away.  She looked up when she heard a sharp intake of breath from Willow to see the witch staring in horror at the long gashes in her flesh.

"Oh, Dawnie."

She shrugged.  "I'll live." 

Immediately, a mix of pain, guilt and confusion crossed her face and she looked down, removing the last of the gauze.  Willow picked up a package of fresh bandaging and opened it, trying desperately to think of something deep and meaningful to tell Dawn, something that would wipe away all the hurt and fear she was feeling. 

She held out the white roll.  "Here." 

Okay, not quite the level of profound she had been looking for.

"Dawn – "

"Don't."  Dawn shook her bowed head.  "I know what you're going to say.  'It's what she would have wanted' or 'She wouldn't want you to feel guilty' or 'It's not your fault'. I know all that.  It doesn't help."

"Okay.  Then…will it help at all if I say I'm here if you need me?  I know, I'm not Buffy, or your mom - I could never take their place - and I wouldn't want to, not really trying even, but I'm here.  If you, you know, need someone.  To talk to."

Dawn's eyes flicked up to Willow's compassionate ones, before she looked back down at the roll she was unwinding.   "Yeah.  Thanks."

"And Dawnie?"  Willow waited for Dawn to meet her eyes.  "It is what Buffy wanted, Buffy wouldn't want you to feel guilty, and it's not your fault.  Okay?"

Dawn's lips twisted, but she nodded.  "Okay."

She held one end of the gauze in place as Willow began winding it around her.

"Willow?"

"Hmm?"

"Where is she now?"

Willow paused.  "She's at the same place they took your mom."

"Can I go see her?"

"Dawn – "

"I want to see her.  Besides, it's up to me to pick out a coffin this time, isn't it?  And – and all those things Buffy did for Mom, right?"

"I'm sure Giles would – "

"No.  I want to do it."  She looked at Willow, her jaw clenched.  "I have to."  

Willow met her eyes, impressed by the girl's newfound maturity, and saddened that it was necessary for one so young to grow up so fast. 

"All right.  But Tara and I will come with you, okay?"

Dawn released a tense breath.  "Yes.  Thank you."

Willow nodded and went back to the bandaging.  She taped the gauze into place and gave it a satisfied pat.  "There.  All done."  She rose and headed for the door.  "I'll see you downstairs.  I want to make sure Giles and Spike are behaving."

"Willow?"

She turned back, and she could tell by the look on Dawn's face that she was going to ask something she didn't know how to answer.  And she was right.

"What's going to happen to me now?"

 She tried to sound much more sure and optimistic than she felt.  "Hey, you're going to be fine!  You've got all the Scoobies looking out for you.  How many teenage girls can say that?"

"What about my dad?"

Another wonderful question.  Willow had quite the struggle to keep the scorn from her voice.  "Well, so far, we haven't managed to contact him, but I'm sure he'll come as soon as we do."

"They can't make me go live with him, can they?"

"I – "

"I hardly even know him any more.  Can't I live with you and Tara or something?  You guys could even move in here."

"Dawn, Tara and I'd would love to have you, but I'm thinking Social Services won't care for the idea of two…" She paused.  "  um…well, you know, two college students taking care of a young girl."

"They let Buffy take me.  And I promise I'll be good."

"Oh, I know you would, sweetie, but Buffy was your sister.  It's not the same thing…for them, I mean."

"Couldn't you talk to them?" 

Willow met Dawn's pleading eyes, and she didn't have the heart to deny the girl some bit of hope.  She lifted one hand, giving a lock of Dawn's hair a gentle tug.

"We'll figure something out.  We Scoobies stick together!"  She paused, suddenly not sure if they would still be the Scoobies anymore, but she shrugged that depressing thought away for the moment.   "I'll talk to Giles and the others, okay?"

"Okay."  Dawn gave a satisfied nod, but then a thought occurred to her.  "But maybe you should wait until after - after the funeral."

Willow stared at Dawn, once again impressed.  She nodded.

"After the funeral."

                                                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was over.

The Slayer had been put to rest. 

Surprisingly enough, the funeral had been attended by a large number of people.  Though she had had only a few close friends, many more had apparently appreciated her efforts to keep Sunnydale safe.  People had foregone for one day their denial of the strange events that happened here to pay last respects to the woman who had protected them for five years.  They had quietly filed by the Slayer's sister, expressing their sorrow for her loss as well as their gratitude for all the Slayer had done.  Beneath the cover of the trees surrounding the gravesite, and with the added protection of a heavy blanket, Spike had watched her, marveling at her courage, admiring the way that, through it all, Dawn had remained gracious, accepting their wishes, thanking them in turn. All in all, she had displayed a strength that, in retrospect, was unsurprising.

The only crack in the wall had come when Dawn had had to sprinkle the first handful of soil onto the coffin.  She had held the dirt in her hand, and Spike had seen her lips start to tremble, but plucky thing that she was, she held it together and slowly lifted her arm and let the dirt drift onto the coffin.   She had allowed Tara and Willow to lead her away, but only after once again extracting a promise from Spike to come see her.

That had been hours ago, the sky was dark now, and Spike still had been unable to make himself leave. He stared at the bare mound of earth covering the Slayer's grave.  As a vampire, death had nothing of finality to it, but he knew that Buffy would not rise, there would be no more fights, no more quips, no more…her.  But something in him simply could not accept that she was gone.

He had no idea how long he stood there before he felt someone approaching behind him.  He took a puff on the cigarette in his hand, and though he appeared unaware, all his senses went on alert and trained on that unseen presence, his muscles tensing in preparation for a possible attack.  He felt whoever it was lunge at him, and he swiftly stepped to the side, just as a dark shape came flying by, landing with a grunt on the fresh grave.  He watched as the black-clad figure scrambled to its feet, swiveling around to face him in a stiff, crouching stance, and seething features came into view.

"Spike," the other spat.

"Well, well, well," Spike drawled.

With a casual air, he dropped his cigarette on the ground, mashing it into the grass with the toe of one booted foot before looking up to regard the new arrival with utter disdain.

 "Angel."