AN: None of the BtVS characters belong to me, we all know this

None of the BtVS characters belong to me, we all know this. If they did, would I be sharing? I don't think so.

Chapter 7: Clarity

Sitting in the bath, Glory raged silently. Silently was something new for her, but being loud would bring in those scabby morons that worshipped her, and she didn't want to see them. They always failed, and seeing something as ugly as them never made her feel good.

So Glory raged silently about the key. She knew it was human, so it had to be someone around the Slayer. The vampire was a dead end. He was never going to talk. She'd seen it in his eyes, in the way he defied her. There was something off about that vampire.

He wasn't the key. He couldn't be the key, because the key was pure. Vampires weren't. But there was something about the Slayer's pet vampire that tickled her mind, and her curiosity. He hadn't been affected by crosses or holy water. He'd laughed when she'd had him dragged into the sunlight. She'd had to rely on the torture that worked for humans, and while that had hurt him, he knew that he would still be alive at the end of it.

And he didn't smell right. He smelt like a vampire, but he didn't. He didn't have a soul, Glory could smell those a mile away. So why was he helping the Slayer? Vampires were meant to be evil. Okay, they were pathetic evil, but most of them at least tried. This one seemed to be proud that he wasn't. Proud that he was shaming his kind. Normally, she would have loved it.

At the moment, it was just pissing her off.

She couldn't find the key. It was so close, but she couldn't find it. She had told the morons to spy on the Slayer and her friends, and bring her the key. That hadn't worked, they'd brought her a vampire. So she'd made them tell her everything that they'd seen, and she was trying to work it out herself.

It wasn't the mother, she was dead. And humans had parents, that's how things worked. And it wasn't the ex-demon either. Glory had been close enough to her before to sense the demon residue left behind in her. That ruled her out, because it made purity in her impossible.

The Watcher. He was a possibility, but Slayers had to have a Watcher. If he was the key, then there was no Watcher. He was a possibility, but a very small one.

The boy. He seemed useless, so what was he doing in the group? He was supposedly dating the demon girl, but they could fake that for cover. He also appeared to be very close to the Slayer. The boy was a better chance than the Watcher.

The witches. They made Glory think. The blond witch was new to the group, which made her seem a likely suspect but it could also mean nothing. The redhead actually had a life outside the group, and had too many associations with different people. She was out.

The only one left was the Slayer's sister. Glory actually kind of liked her. She had spunk. And what better way for the Slayer to protect the key than for it to be her own sister? But the monks would have had to create her over a decade ago. From the Slayer's relationship with her sister it was incredibly obvious that they had a real sibling relationship. That couldn't be faked. So the sister was out.

There was nobody left. It had to be one of them. The best chances were the boy and the blond witch. They were the only ones that seemed possible, but they didn't feel right. Just like the vampire hadn't felt right.

Maybe it was the vampire. After all, if the monks could fake humanity, they could fake impurity.

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Spike woke slowly, his thoughts drifting between dreaming and reality. As he became more aware, he decided he didn't like reality. Reality hurt. Cursing under his breath, Spike sat up slowly and was surprised to find that he really felt much better than he had the last time he was conscious.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly. He was a little unsteady on his feet, but he didn't collapse. Glory hadn't paid too much attention to his legs, something he was glad for. It was good that he was able to move around. He didn't know how long the Slayer's new nice act toward him was going to hold up. He was going to need to move if he was going to eat.

He walked over to the window and opened to curtains. He was surprised to find that the sun had just risen, and more surprised to find that he hadn't even thought about flinching in the sunlight. Sure, he'd been able to survive in sunlight for a while now, but 120 years of living in the night and fearing day isn't something you get over quickly.

Letting the curtains fall back Spike looked down at himself, surveying the damage. From what he could see of his chest, most of the cuts had healed to red lines, all but the deepest. And the hole in his chest still burned. Other than that, the only other damage he could see was bruises, and his ribs were still sore. He put a hand to his face and winced as the pressure caused pain, but he wasn't surprised. Glory had really gone to work on his head. He still could only half open one of his eyes.

He looked around for a shirt, thinking it probably wasn't a good idea to go wandering around the house looking like he did. He couldn't hide his face, but he could cover his chest. Maybe he could convince the Nibblet that he wasn't as badly hurt as he looked.

A quick scan of the floor and the chairs didn't reveal his shirt, and he remembered that it had been torn and bloody anyway. Spike glanced at the cupboard, but didn't think he would find anything in there. This was Joyce's room, and he couldn't see her keeping spare men's shirts in her wardrobe. Realizing that he would find nothing here, Spike opened the door to the room and crept quietly out into the hall.

He knew that Buffy and Dawn were typically late risers, Buffy because she was normally out late, and Dawn because she just liked to stay up late. He didn't want to wake them, Summers women were probably bloody cranky in the mornings. He walked slowly down the stairs to the kitchen, and was relieved to find it empty.

Opening the fridge, Spike smiled when he found that the bottom shelf had about ten bags of blood on it. Pulling one out, he closed the fridge and fished his mug out of the sink where it was evidently been soaking. He rinsed it out and poured the blood into it, the smell making him almost hungry enough to drink it cold. He could, and he had before, but cold blood was too thick for his tastes. Warm went down easier.

After putting the mug in the microwave and setting it for a few minutes, Spike headed slowly down to the basement. He thought maybe he'd be able to find a shirt there, maybe something someone had left behind. Privately, he was hoping that he would find something belonging to the Slayer's father or something, anything but one of captain cardboard's old shirts.

Turning on the light, Spike despaired of finding anything. The basement was a mess. It wasn't the sort of mess that you get when you just throw things down randomly, it was more controlled. It was the kind of mess you get when you've tried to be neat, but there's simply too much stuff. The kind of mess where you go through every box and what you're looking for is in the very last one you search. The kind of mess where it is impossible to find anything.

Spike didn't even bother. He turned off the light and went back upstairs, thinking he'd look in the laundry. He closed the door to the basement, and spun around when he heard a foot scuff the floor.

Dawn saw Spike wince when he moved too quickly. She hadn't expected to find him out of bed, and looking at him she thought he still looked like the walking dead. Which he was, technically, but he usually didn't look like he'd been dead for a week or two.

"Morning Nibblet," said Spike, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.

"What are you doing up, Spike?"

He shrugged. "I was bored. Well, and hungry." The microwave beeped. "Mind fetching my breakfast? Walking wounded here and all."

Dawn sighed and Spike sat down at the table. She got his mug out of the microwave, and tried not to look disgusted. Knowing Spike drank blood was one thing, getting it out of the microwave for him was another. She wondered how she would ever be able to heat up pizza again.

"Thanks. Don't suppose there's a chance of a shirt around here somewhere?"

"Sure," said Dawn, trying not to sound disappointed. Even with the cuts and stuff on him, he was still amazing to look at. She quickly went to the laundry and fetched Spike a shirt. When she gave it to him, Spike looked at her quizzically.

"This is my shirt."

"Yep."

"Why do you have one of my shirts? Buffy stealing my clothes now?"

Dawn snorted. "Hardly. We got Xander to go by your crypt and get some of your stuff since Buffy said you would be staying a while. Your other shirt was covered in blood, so you can't wear that. And it's ripped too. Of course, Xander can't tell the difference between clean and dirty clothes, so we had to wash that for you." She pointed to the shirt he was buttoning up.

"Remind me to thank him. No, sod that. I'll thank you and big sis. He only did it because you asked him to, right?"

Dawn shook her head. "Actually, when Buffy told him you were going to stay, he went and got them himself. Heard him muttering something about not wanting you walking around naked. Personally…" she looked slyly at Spike.

He tried to look shocked while trying not to laugh. "Hey, ease off there little bit. Don't let the Slayer hear you saying that. Stake me good and proper then, she would."

Dawn smiled. "She wouldn't. Not after what you did for us. Thanks for that, by the way. Besides, I think she…" Dawn suddenly cut off as Buffy walked into the kitchen. "…is grateful as well," she finished, hoping she didn't sound desperate.

Buffy just raised an eyebrow, but let it slide. "Uh-huh. Dawn, you should eat something. You've got school soon."

"I know. But have you seen what's sitting here?" She gestured to Spike, who looked indignant. "How can I eat when I've just seen him enjoy a nice cup of warm blood?"

Buffy grimaced. "I see your point. I guess I'm just a bit more used to it than you."

"Ladies," said Spike. "Sitting right over here. Thinking about getting insulted. Do I make comments about how disgusting your race's traditional food is?"

"What's our traditional food?" asked Dawn.

Spike shrugged. "I don't know. That's why I don't comment on it. McDonald's, maybe?"

Buffy laughed. "Probably. Just finish up Spike. I want Dawn to get to school at some point today. And before she does that, she needs to eat."

"Don't worry about it, Buffy," said Dawn. "I think I've lost my appetite. I'll skip breakfast this morning."

"Dawn, you need to eat."

"You're not."

"Not yet. But I don't have to get to school. You do. I'll eat later."

To Spike, this sounded like a regular argument. Buffy's voice sounded tired, like she couldn't be bothered, and Dawn sounded like it was all routine. As he thought about it, he realized that neither of the girls looked like they'd been eating properly.

"Pet, Nibblet," interrupted Spike, "How about I make you both breakfast?" Buffy and Dawn both looked disgusted for a minute, and Spike realized he'd been misunderstood. "Not blood, luv. Pancakes."

Buffy looked relieved, then skeptical. "Pancakes?"

"Sure, " Spike smiled. "You'd be amazed at what you can learn to do from daytime television."

"I'd like pancakes," put in Dawn.

"No problem Platelet. As long as you have to ingredients?" Buffy nodded. "Great. Be about 20 minutes, so why don't you go get ready for school?" Dawn glanced at Buffy, then left the kitchen and headed upstairs.

As Spike moved around the kitchen looking for what he needed, Buffy watched him from the table. He seemed like a totally different person. The last time she'd seen him before she rescued him from Glory he had been upset and confused, and now he seemed… peaceful. Buffy couldn't think of a better word. He was back to his usual self, but without too many cutting remarks. Suddenly feeling awkward, Buffy tried to make conversation.

"I'm surprised you're moving about. I thought you'd be in bed for at least another day."

Spike looked over his shoulder, but didn't stop what he was doing. "Couldn't stand it. Glory didn't pay my legs much attention, so I can walk fine."

"You still look like hell."

Spike smirked, then winced. "Well, she seemed to like hitting me in the face." Buffy immediately looked guilty, and Spike could have kicked himself. "Don't worry about it pet. I don't think it's as bad as it looks. Just bruises and cuts, they'll be gone in no time."

Buffy tried to smile. "Yeah, vampire healing. One of the perks, I suppose. Is there anything worse?"

Spike shrugged, trying to pretend that he wasn't that hurt, trying to sound nonchalant. "I think some of my ribs are broken, they'll take a while to heal. And my right arm hurts when I use it too much. I think so long as no one tries to kill me again," he shot a glace at Buffy, "I'll be good as new in a week."

Buffy sighed, relieved. "Good. I'm sorry you got hurt. You shouldn't have been involved like that."

Spike flipped a pancake onto a plate and handed it to Buffy. "Don't worry about it. Won't kill me."

"It might."

"Take a lot more than this," he gestured to himself.

"I guess," said Buffy. "You're healing a lot faster than I thought you would. I guess Glory needs lessons on how to torture vampires."

Spike shuddered. "I hope nobody gives them to her. I might be healing, but it still hurt."

Dawn walked back into the kitchen, and Spike handed her a plate with a couple of pancakes. "Thanks," said Dawn. She sat down next to Buffy and began to eat. "Hey, these are really good, Spike."

Spike smiled. "Glad you like them. Don't really have much call to cook, but I do know how." He began to clean up, have used all the mixture. By the time he was done, Dawn and Buffy were finished eating, and Dawn was about to leave for school.

She grabbed her book bag and walked to the front door. "See you this afternoon, Buffy, Spike."

"Have fun," called Buffy.

"Buffy, it's school," replied Dawn from the door.

"Oh. Right. Well, don't have fun then. Don't get expelled."

"That's you, remember?"

Spike tried not to laugh at Buffy's expression. He heard the front door close, and turned to Buffy. "She got you there. What have you got going today?"

Buffy shrugged. "I was meant to be looking after you, but it seems that you don't really need it."

"Looking after me? I'm touched, Slayer."

"It's nothing personal. I'm still going to beat you up as soon as you're healthy again."

The comment was typical Buffy, but Spike could tell her heart wasn't in it. He tried to get her riled up. "What if I fight back?"

Buffy froze, knowing Spike was perfectly capable of fighting back now. She'd almost forgotten that his chip wasn't working any more. Then she remembered that he didn't know that she knew, and decided to play along. "You can't fight back. Well, not without getting a massive migraine. You can't even try to beat me up any more Spike. That's very sad. And pathetic."

Spike smiled, thinking how much of a shock it would be if he actually did fight back. Buffy wouldn't see it coming. "I'll fight back one day. You'll never see me coming."

"I will. And if you fight back, you die. We've made this clear haven't we?"

Spike put his hands up, doing his best to be non-threatening. "Hey, easy there Slayer. No need for the death threats. You know I'm not going to try and kill you. I mean, I'm bloody sunlight vampire now. Or did you forget?"

Buffy shook her head. "I didn't forget. You seem okay with that now. You weren't before. What happened?"

Spike just shrugged. "I worked it out. I worked out what I did to change, why I changed, and I accepted it. I mean, I don't have any of those nasty vampire weaknesses any more. This thing has a huge upside."

"So you're not upset that you're not the big bad any more?"

Spike shook his head. "I really haven't been for the past year or so. Now I just have a good excuse."

"I'm glad you're okay with it," said Buffy, getting up from the table. Spike took her plate and put it in the sink. "We really need your help right now, especially to protect Dawn. I can't do it by myself." She looked down at herself, suddenly embarrassed, and realized that she was still in a bathrobe. "I'm going to go and get dressed. If you want to change, your clothes are in the laundry. Oh, and have a shower. You still have blood on you."

As Buffy walked out of the kitchen, Spike called after her. "I will help. Whatever you need." Buffy didn't reply, but Spike smiled to himself. Buffy hadn't been antagonistic toward him yet, and that was definitely a good sign. Things might finally be starting to look up.

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Buffy was reading on her bed when she heard the phone ring. She hadn't even had time to get up when it stopped, so she assumed Spike had answered the phone. She went back to reading, figuring that Spike would call her if it was for her. These days, it was usually someone trying to sell her something.

There was a knock on her door, and Spike's voice drifted through the wood. "Buffy? The phone's for you. It's Dawn's school."

Buffy couldn't jump off the bed fast enough. She raced into her mother's room, terrified that something had happened to Dawn. She picked up the phone, and a stray thought drifting through her head informed her that she really should move the phone into her room now.

"Hello?"

"Is this Buffy Summers?" came the reply.

"Yes. Has something happened? Is Dawn okay?" she couldn't keep the worry out of her voice.

The lady on the other end of the line must have heard it, since she obviously did her best to be calming. "No, nothing's happened. But we are very worried about your sister. The principal would like you to come in this afternoon so she can talk to you and Dawn. There's a few problems with Dawn at school, and we think that maybe it would be best if you come in."

"Problems?" Buffy was still worried.

"Nothing drastic, and nothing that hasn't happened before. Don't panic. Can you come for a meeting at three this afternoon?"

Buffy nodded, then felt like an idiot. "Yeah, I can come. Will you tell Dawn, or do I need to?"

"We've already talked to Dawn, so everything is organized. Thank you Ms. Summers, we'll see you this afternoon." The line went dead.

Buffy put the phone back in its cradle, and turned to see Spike leaning on the doorframe. "Is everything okay?" he asked, and Buffy could hear her own worry mirrored in his voice.

Buffy nodded, then shook her head. "I'm not sure. The principal wants to talk to me and Dawn together this afternoon. The lady on the phone sad that she's having problems at school, but it's noting drastic."

"But you're still worried." It wasn't a question.

"Of course. Dawn never had trouble at school before this whole key business. She did better than me, anyway."

Spike walked over to her and, testing his luck, gave her a quick hug. He pulled away before she could hit him, but from the look on her face there was no need. She actually looked almost grateful.

"It'll be all right, pet," he said softly. "You'll see."

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Buffy sat nervously in the foyer waiting for 3o'clock and for Dawn to show. She wished she hadn't told Spike not to come. He'd wanted to, which had surprised her, but considering the way he looked at the moment he probably shouldn't be out in public.

Without something to occupy her attention, Buffy was driving herself crazy with all the things she thought the principal could might her. They ranged from mildly bad to completely horrific, and most people would think most of them were unrealistic scenarios. But those people weren't in a family with a Slayer and a key, and they didn't have to worry about a hell god.

Buffy did, and with everything going on in her life right now, she felt she was entitled to some freaking out.

She was finally distracted from her thoughts when Dawn came around the corner looking dejected and worried. She'd been let out early from class for the meeting, and unlike Buffy, she had a fairly good idea what it was for. Buffy was totally going to freak.

She was surprised when Buffy got up and hugged her. She had expected to be glared at, for her to demand an explanation. She didn't know that Buffy was just so relieved to see her, and upset to see her looking dejected. Dawn returned the hug, but she couldn't stop making herself worry about what Buffy was going to think of her.

They broke apart, and Buffy smiled as reassuringly as she could at Dawn and stroked her hair. It was a familiar gesture, something that Buffy would do to comfort Dawn whenever she was upset or in trouble. Dawn tried to smile back, but Buffy could tell she was worried and uncertain.

Buffy had felt better the moment Dawn had showed up, and most of the things she had been imagining were no longer an issue. Dawn was alive and in one piece, and that made for something right in the world. Whatever the principal had to say couldn't be that bad.

The receptionist chose that moment to call them in, so Buffy didn't have to wait long to find out.

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Xander was headed toward the magic shop when he first became aware that he was being watched. Construction had knocked off early, since the delivery trucks hadn't showed up with their new supplies. They had needed a truckload of specially treated timber, and it was meant to arrive that morning. They'd done everything they could with what they had, but until the trucks arrived, nothing would get done.

He was walking because the site was close to the magic shop. It was easier to leave his car parked there than find a park on the street. Feeling eyes on him, he wondered if that had been a good idea. He picked up the pace a bit, but his path to the shop took him through some back alleys, and with Glory around he suddenly wished he'd taken the long way.

Even without Glory, this was still Sunnydale.

But it was day. Xander didn't really expect to be attacked during the day. This might be the Hellmouth, but vampires still formed the major part of the demon population. He wondered if maybe it was just someone normal trying to mug him. Sometimes human criminals got forgotten in the abundance of supernatural bad guys.

Still walking fast, Xander prayed that someone was going to mug him. Usually, weird thought, but with everything he'd seen a human with a knife would be like an infant with a lollipop.

He tried to look behind him without appearing obvious. He didn't want to run, because if you run, someone will chase you, and they might be faster than you. If you keep walking, they should just keep tailing you. If you walk, you can hear if someone is trying to creep up on you. Walking was safe. Well, safer.

In most circumstances.

Xander didn't know what circumstances he was in. He was nearing the magic shop, but he wasn't close enough. He wouldn't be close enough until he was inside. Not for the first time, Xander wished he'd done something about protecting himself. Willow was a witch, and Buffy was the Slayer. What was he? Even Spike was more able to protect himself.

As soon as he got to the magic shop, he was asking Buffy for fighting lessons.

Assuming he got there.

He'd picked up a few tricks from just being around for the past couple of years, but for some things, it was nowhere near enough. Xander realised that he'd come almost to the verge of running, and cursed himself for a fool. He stopped, and turned around, deliberately being obvious. There was no one, or nothing, in sight, but that never meant anything. He shrugged and resumed walking, trying to keep to a casual pace and pretend nothing was wrong.

He'd shown that he knew something was there, and that had been his only advantage. He'd now given himself a different one. Whatever was following him would now think him an idiot. He'd dismissed the danger, and was once again totally unsuspecting.

Apparently.

Being a soldier one Halloween had been one of the best things that had happened to him, disaster wise. It had come in handy more than once before, and now it would serve again. When he thought about it, Xander had a brilliant grasp of tactics. Of course, since they were military they usually didn't apply anywhere he could use them, but for some situations…

The scuff of a foot on the pavement behind him was all the warning he had. He ducked and felt a rush of air as something passed through right where his head had been. Still crouched, he stepped back as he turned to face his attacker.

His eyes widened as he took it in. This, he was not expecting. Something caught him on the back of the head, and blackness claimed him.

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Buffy was furious, and trying not to show it. She wasn't doing a very good job. She was also scared out of her mind, but she was doing a better job controlling that. She couldn't let Dawn see she was scared. Making her worry like that wouldn't help anything.

They were on their way home after the meeting with the principal of Dawn's school. Apparently, Dawn had been cutting. It was the first she'd heard of it, Dawn had done a marvelous job of sneaking around. Buffy supposed she'd learnt it from her.

She couldn't help but feel proud for some reason.

Despite that, she was still upset with Dawn. She could see why she'd done it, Buffy herself probably would have done the same thing. Dawn had too many things going on in her life right now. But she still shouldn't be skipping school. Buffy refused to let Dawn get herself expelled like she had been.

Buffy was definitely keeping a tighter rein on her fear than her fury. Dawn would understand her being mad, but she didn't know the reason she was scared.

The principal had sent Dawn out of the room for a few minutes to talk with Buffy alone. She'd told her that Social Services was taking an interest in her. If Dawn continued to cut school, they might find Buffy unfit be to a legal guardian. They'd take Dawn away.

Buffy refused to let her go.

She couldn't lose Dawn, not now, not with everything else in her life. Dawn needing her gave her one more reason to hang on to this life, and she loved her too much to let her be taken away.

She also had a feeling that Dawn wouldn't be able to handle it. Despite all her memories, Dawn knew that she hadn't existed in this life a year ago. If she was taken away, she would lose the only life she'd ever known. She would leave the only people she'd ever truly known. People who actually loved her despite knowing what she was. People who didn't care that their memories had been altered for her, but were glad for it.

There was one good side to this whole situation. Apparently Dawn had been at school the last week or so. Before that, since she'd found out she was the key, she'd gone maybe twice or three times a week. After their mother had died, if she showed up once it was a good week. The last week, Dawn had gone every day, been in all her classes, and even done the work. Buffy had been called in because the school had wanted her to be aware of the situation, it seemed to her that they didn't believe that Dawn would continue showing up regularly.

Buffy couldn't think of a reason for Dawn's sudden reversal. It could just be that she was beginning to accept the death of their mother, but Buffy didn't think so. Things had calmed down around Dawn recently, despite the ever present threat of Glory. In fact, things had calmed down in general expect for Spike's remarkable change and his getting tortured by Glory.

Having a friend tortured by a hellgod definitely didn't count as calm.

It took Buffy a moment to realize that she'd referred to Spike as a friend. Even in her head that was dangerous territory. She supposed he was, in a way, but she'd told him emphatically that they weren't. Buffy's pride was too strong for her to just back down from that statement.

Bringing her mind back to the present, Buffy turned her head to look at Dawn. She looked so upset that Buffy had a hard time staying mad. Despite how often she got angry at her sister, she could never stay that way. Fights with Dawn were always short and sharp. She couldn't remember one that had lasted more than a day.

Buffy really wanted to stay mad. She had to. She had to be the responsible one now, she had to be the one who put their foot down. But looking at Dawn, her anger just left her. How could she stay mad when time was she would have done the same thing? She wasn't the one to say it was important to be in school. She'd been expelled twice, and skipped half her classes besides.

Talk about being hypocritical.

Buffy had had an excuse, but telling anyone the real reason she was cutting so many classes and burning down school buildings would have landed her in a room with white padded walls. Dawn didn't have that excuse, but she was involved enough in Buffy's life that it still sort of applied.

Truthfully, Dawn's own excuse was just as good as Buffy's. Her mother had recently died, her sister was a Slayer, and she'd just found out that she hadn't even existed a year ago. Oh, and she also had an amazingly strong, unbeatable, super hellbeast after her.

The importance of school sort of paled in comparison.

Her expression softened when Dawn looked up to meet her gaze. There was something in her eyes, something that almost broke Buffy's heart. Dawn dropped her eyes again, and Buffy suddenly realized.

It was shame.

For a moment, Buffy couldn't figure it out. Why would Dawn be ashamed? She knew Buffy's record in school. Buffy would have thought she would have tried to be defiant, used Buffy's own mistakes as a shield. Why wasn't she doing that?

They'd reached the house, and Buffy stopped on the porch. Dawn looked on the verge of tears. Not being able to stop herself any longer and at a loss for anything else to do, Buffy reached out and hugged her sister. Dawn latched on to her and started to cry.

The situation was so similar to when Dawn had tried to bring their mother back to life that Buffy found herself fighting off tears. They'd both broken down that day, finally allowing themselves to grieve.

Buffy knew this was different and she had to do something. She forced back the memories, and guided a still sobbing Dawn to the chair on the porch, sitting her down and wrapping her arms around her.

"Shhh, Dawnie. It's okay, don't cry." Buffy used one hand to stroke Dawn's hair, something that had always seemed to soothe Dawn. She just sat there silently holding her until Dawn calmed down.

"It's okay, Dawn" she said quietly. "You don't have to cry."

Dawn looked at her with eyes filled with guilt. "I'm sorry… I… I just…"

Buffy continued to stroke her hair. "I understand, Dawn. Really, I do."

"No, you don't…" her words were broken by sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm nothing but trouble for you. It's because of me… that you have to deal with Glory… that Spike was tortured… it's all because of me."

Buffy was shocked. She'd had no idea that Dawn had felt this way. She could see why she would, but that didn't mean it was true. Without Dawn in her life… she couldn't imagine it. she wouldn't.

"Dawn, sweetie, that's not true. You know that's not true. You didn't have a say in any of this. If you hate your life that much, blame the monks. I don't blame any of this on you. Spike doesn't blame you that he got hurt. Everything is Glory's fault. You've done nothing wrong."

"But Glory… she's my fault…" It seemed Dawn was determined to feel guilty. "And you have to look after me… I don't even exist."

"You do exist, and Glory is not your fault. As for looking after you, Dawn, I want to do that. You're not a chore. I love you, you're not just another thing I have to protect. If you weren't here…" Buffy chocked on her own words. "If you weren't here… after Mom died, I… don't know what I would have done. You… You're the reason I don't give up. You're the reason I'm still in the world. Without you…" Buffy couldn't help it, tears began to slide down her cheeks.

Dawn didn't know what to say. She knew she caused nothing but trouble and worry for Buffy. She knew Buffy loved her, the monks would have arranged it so she would, but this… "Buffy, I… How can you… You know I wasn't even in your life until recently, you survived for so long without me…"

Buffy shook her head and hugged Dawn tighter. "As far as I'm concerned, you've always been in my life. I know they're not my original memories, but I don't care. I wouldn't trade them back for anything. They feel real, and that's all that matters. You're not just something I'm protecting, Dawn. I don't see you as something I just got recently. You've always been my sister, and that's what you are to me, first and foremost. Whatever else you are… it doesn't matter to me."

Dawn finally relaxed. Ever since she'd found out that she was the key that Buffy was meant to protect, she'd wondered how her sister really felt about her. It had made her feel so alone to find that she had never really been a part of her family. She'd shut out the world, and tried not to feel anything. Her mother's death had made her shut out even more. She'd tried to tell herself that she shouldn't care, that she wasn't really her mother, but her grief was too strong for that. So she'd closed herself off, put walls up between everyone she knew. She'd thought it was better that way.

She'd been destroying herself.

She'd found that out about a week ago, when all the walled off emotions broke past her barriers and came rushing into her heart. Grief, hurt, resentment, anger, guilt… all of it. Maybe she could have dealt with it, but one thing finally overpowered her.

Fear.

Dawn was absolutely terrified. She was afraid, and alone. Glory wanted her, wanted something inside her that she didn't remember being. Buffy had been devastated when their mother died, and Dawn hadn't known what to do. The pain of that loss was too much for her - she'd blocked it out. Buffy hadn't been able to do that. Buffy was stronger than her, but she'd been through so much. She'd tried to deal with it, tried to be strong, but it had only made it worse when she finally felt it.

It had been so bad for Buffy because she had thought that she had to be strong for Dawn.

Another guilt on her conscience. Dawn was afraid of what her death would do to Buffy. The monks had arranged it so she'd have to protect the key with her life, but they should not have made her love it. That wasn't fair. It would destroy her, in the end.

Despite the confident front Buffy tried to show, Dawn was fairly certain that she was going to die.

The thought had terrified her. She'd spent hours trying not to think about how Glory would do it, and found that that was all she could think about. She couldn't handle it. Someone like Glory in control of how she died?

The thought had terrified her beyond reason.

She'd gone to her mother's grave at midday, and sat there for a while crying. In between her sobs, she chocked out apologies. She was sorry for who she was, all the death and destruction her existence had caused. She'd just sat there, apologizing to everyone and for everything she could think of.

She'd finally realized she was stalling. Who would hear, or care, if she said she was sorry? Her resolve wavered for a moment, but the thought of Glory had strengthened it once more. She'd stepped back from the grave a little, not wanting to soil the ground.

Pulling a knife from her bag, she'd placed the blade on her wrist. The first cut she made was too shallow, and she stifled a cry from the pain. She pressed again, deeper, harder. She was bleeding, but it still wasn't enough. It wasn't enough, and yet the pain was making her head swim.

She'd forced herself to focus, and place the blade in the cut once more. One more cut, and it would be done. Before she could complete the last cut, she had a moment of clarity through the pain and almost laughed at herself.

She'd cut the wrong way. You could kill yourself cutting horizontally, but most people did it that way when they didn't really want to die. People who cut that way wanted to be saved, and wanted attention.

Cursing herself for a fool Dawn had dropped the knife, cradling her arm to her chest mindless of the blood. She knew she didn't want more attention, she had too much on her already. But what she'd done subconsciously told her something she hadn't been able to see.

She didn't really want to die.

She'd known that, but she hadn't wanted to see it. All the negative emotions she'd been keeping out had overwhelmed her, and fear had gripped her mind. She'd thought it was better to go on her own terms, and maybe then Glory's plans would be ruined as well.

She couldn't sacrifice herself. Not like this.

What she'd been going to do was the coward's way out. She might have been afraid, but she wasn't a coward. Not yet, and she refused to become one. Glory would not make her do that to herself.

Glory wouldn't make her do this to Buffy.

She might not have been Buffy's sister originally, but she was now. That was what mattered. What mattered what that she now had people who loved her. Killing herself would cheapen everything they'd done to protect her, every sacrifice they'd made for her.

She wouldn't do that to them.

She'd gone home and bandaged her cut, and thrown away her shirt. That much blood would never come out, and Buffy would know something had happened. She'd worn long-sleeve tops for the next week until the cut healed. It had healed fast and without a scar, probably due to Buffy's blood running through her veins.

Dawn had covered up all trace of what she'd tried to do and started going to school again, not walling so many emotions out. She had to get on with her life. If she was going to die, then she should actually live while she had time. She knew she wasn't the only one who was hurting and worried. Self-destruction got you nowhere.

Bringing her mind back to the present, she realized she was still hugged close to Buffy who was still trying hard not to cry in her hair. Buffy had been through so much, and Dawn was determined not to cause more grief for her.

Dawn gave Buffy a quick squeeze and pulled back from her to look her in the eyes. "Buffy, thank you," she said seriously. "For everything you've done for me. I'm sorry I've caused so much trouble for you, and I know it's not my fault Glory wants me, and I know I can't do anything about that. I'm sorry for getting you called in to school, but I think… I think you understand," part of it, but not all. "But I'm okay, now. I'll be all right, and won't skip school any more. I promise."

Buffy smiled at her and wiped away her tears. "I believe you. And I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

Dawn couldn't stand the guilt in her tone. "You were there for me Buffy. I just wasn't there for myself."

Buffy didn't quite understand Dawn's last comment, but decided it was best to let it go. She got up off the couch, pulling Dawn with her, and decided it was far past time they went inside. Despite herself, she smiled ruefully with embarrassment when she realized that they'd both just had major bouts of crying in full view of anyone on the street.

Inside the house Dawn gave Buffy a quick hug and went upstairs to do her homework, deciding that she needed that sense of normalcy to get over the feelings that she'd just had to deal with all over again.

Buffy had much the same idea and headed into the kitchen to get herself some food. Opening the fridge, she wondered where Spike was. He said he wouldn't leave the house, considering how he looked. She shrugged, figuring he was probably just up in his room sleeping or something. He was going to need a lot of sleep over the next couple of days.

It looked like her original assessment of him not being fully recovered for at least a month had been really off track. He was healing so much faster than she had thought was possible. Taking the time to think about it, she realised that he had looked a lot more hurt than he actually was. The bruises and cuts on his face would go away in a day or two, and in a week you wouldn't be able to tell he'd been hurt if you just looked at him. He still had a few broken bones though. She wasn't sure what, but she thought maybe a couple of his ribs and maybe some fractures in one of his arms. Still, he'd been moving about, so maybe they didn't hurt him as much as she thought they would. Well, either that or he was hiding the pain.

That was actually pretty likely, now that she thought about it. She knew that Spike knew she felt guilty about what had happened to him. He probably thought Dawn did too. She did, even though it wasn't her fault. From what they'd worked out, it was really Spike's own fault that Glory had thought he was the key. Still, Buffy couldn't help but feel responsible for Spike. He wouldn't have been tortured if he'd talked.

But he didn't.

Buffy was finding it harder and harder to pretend she hated Spike. She didn't. Not now, and she hadn't for a long time. She'd tried not to show it, but who was she kidding? She'd stood up for Spike to Xander so many times she couldn't count, and she'd been the one to tell everyone to trust him. They all knew she didn't hate him. She'd been deluding herself to think that she would fool them by hitting him occasionally and fighting with him every chance she got.

None of them were fooled. She could see that now. She was letting Spike stay in her house, would she do that if she really hated him? Unfortunately, Buffy was beginning to realize that she didn't just not hate him. She'd been able to ignore it before he changed, but now… Ever since she'd overheard him in the cemetery, she'd begun to think of him as human.

His feelings, his emotions… they were all real. Buffy hadn't thought it was possible for vampires to feel. She'd seen it, but she'd ignored it. She'd wanted to see the world in black and white, good guys and bad guys. Vampires were the bad guys, no exceptions. Things without souls were the bad guys. It was supposed to be simple.

How could she be a good Slayer if she had to chose which demons were redeemable? If Spike was able to change, without a soul, then why couldn't all of them? It was like she was killing something that hadn't yet had the chance to turn into someone. She couldn't afford to think like that.

Shaking her head, Buffy forced herself to be rational. Spike had always been different. Most vampires were animals. They wouldn't change no matter how hard to tried. The effort would kill her. Vampires generally weren't capable of change. They would always be monsters, they would always try and kill humans.

Spike was obviously the exception. Buffy had her own opinion on the matter, though. Privately she wondered if maybe he had been turned wrong somehow, that some remnant of his soul remained in him. Buried deep, but there. He had, after all, been turned by Drusilla. She was nuts, and who knew how much she was capable of messing up a turning?

Ruefully, Buffy realized that she was just avoiding dealing with the issue that scared her the most. She knew that the average vamp was incapable of change. Why was she even thinking about it?

Because she was avoiding what she didn't want to think about. Thinking of Spike as a human was dangerous territory. Overhearing him at the cemetery, knowing how much he really did love her, what he'd do for her… it frightened her.

Buffy had been denying anything but hatred for Spike for so long, even to herself, that to find she felt differently had been something of a shock. She had no reason to hate him any more. He was still a vampire, but not really. Hating him was safe. Hate had blocked of all other feelings. Once the hate had gone, Buffy didn't know how to deal with what was left over.

Was she meant to like him now? She found she did.

Could she trust him? Yes.

Was it safe to love him?

That was a question she refused to answer, and she couldn't believe she'd even thought of it. The good, safe, Spike hate was gone, but love was a long way from not hating. Even longer considering that this was Spike.

She was incredibly grateful to him for what he'd done for them, and she'd even found herself being nicer to him. But she'd made up her mind a while ago about what she would do if she found herself in love with him. She would never let anyone know, and she would deal with it herself until the feeling left her. She would never let herself love Spike.

It never occurred to her why she had even thought about it, and why she dwelt on the idea for so long.

End Chapter 7

Sorry there's not much action in the way of actual storyline in this chapter, but I hope you liked the character stuff. I just felt like I needed a Buffy/Dawn moment.