Shock

Shock

"What would they want with Dawn now?" Buffy demanded angrily.

Tara glanced nervously at the floor. "Power," she said. "The magic the monks used to disguise her slipped; like the magic that kept people from remembering that Ben and Glory were the same. Now, if you know what to look for you can see the raw power of the Key in Dawn."

"Fix it," Buffy ordered. "We can't have every two-bit power seeker coming after Dawn. I won't have it."

Willow came downstairs, her front was splotched with blood and drenched with water but she looked relieved. "Spike was just in shock," she said. "I got the blood off him, not much of it was his actually. I think he's doing a bit better now. He was still feeling shaky and said he was cold. I didn't think vampires could feel cold, but anyway I left in the bathroom, it's like a sauna up there."

"He's going to be okay?" Dawn asked hopefully.

"He'll be fine Dawnie," Willow promised. "He's just real conflicted about violence these days. I think he was pretty much a pacifist before he was turned and this fight was on the gory side."

"Thank the goddess for magic," Tara sighed, "We'd never have gotten the blood and other stuff out of the carpet without it."

"Or fixed the window," Buffy added. "I don't make enough to cover that kind of thing, not even with you two renting. Do you two think you could whip-up something to make Dawn appear totally not-keyish or should we be calling Giles?"

"We'll work on it," Tara promised.

"Thanks," Buffy said. "Dawn it's late and a school night…"

"Yeah, yeah, not like I really feel like going out after what happened," Dawn said heading toward her room.

"Good night," Buffy replied. "Spike's not naked is he?" she asked Willow.

"No, why?"

"I should check up on him, tell him how much I appreciate him protecting Dawn," Buffy said.

"I think it would make him feel a lot better to hear that from you," Willow confirmed.

Buffy nodded then went up-stairs and tapped lightly on the bathroom door. "Will," she called. When he didn't answer she hesitantly opened the door.

Spike was huddled in the corner beside the bathtub, staring fixedly into the steam rising from the faucet. His shirt lay in a ball in the sink, staining the porcelain red with blood. Every towel in the room was wrapped around his shoulders and he was still shaking like a leaf. The warm moisture in the room caused his sandy blond hair to curl tightly. His eyes were dilated until only a thin rim of blue remained. Despite the pointlessness of the reflex he was repeatedly taking quick, shallow breaths.

Buffy sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. "You saved Dawn," she said. "Thank you so much, Will."

"T-there was blood everywhere," Spike stammered. "A-all over me. I-I killed them… A-and when I fought… I-it felt the same… I-it should have felt different with m-my soul. It d-didn't… W-what's wrong w-with me?"

"They attacked you and Dawn," Buffy said. "You defended Dawn. I would have done the same if I'd been there."

Spike nodded once then leaned into Buffy. She wrapped her other arm around him and kissed the top of his head. "You did a good thing Will, I swear."