"Till the end of the world"
He sat hunched on the floor of his crypt, the grief so great the tears wouldn't come. Surely he could have saved her. Surely there was something he could have done last night that would have stopped it. All he could see was her broken body in front of him – the feel of her lying limp in his arms as he'd held her, sobbing, not believing she could really be dead. Just when they'd become – well, friends. At least he had that.
He heard a soft noise outside and tried to ignore it. Then again. Still he didn't move. Then a third time. He snatched the door open angrily. And froze as he looked down at the tear-stained face.
"Oh, it's you," he said. "Well, I guess you'd better come in then."
He turned his back as Dawn came into the crypt and shut the door.
"Brandy?" She shook her head.
"Spike, are you angry with me?"
He felt the tears stinging his eyes as she asked. He turned around, and putting his arms around her, shook his head.
"Not your fault. Mine. I should have saved you."
"You did your best…" she began.
"Not good enough. I should have saved you," he repeated. Dawn laid her head on his shoulder.
"At least you tried."
"Not the point."
She wrapped her arms round his waist, strangely comforted that she wasn't alone in her grief.
"Not to you, maybe," she whispered, "but it means a lot to me."
He could feel her tears on his skin, burning like fire, and held her closer.
"I know, Nibblet. I'm sorry. I just wish…"
"I know – so do I. But we can't change it by wishing."
Resting his cheek against the top of her head, he held her, her tears still streaming down her cheeks.
"What was the promise you made? You know, when you said…"
"At the top of the tower?" He kissed the top of her head and gently stroked her hair back from her face. "One that I intend to keep. A promise I made to her."
"What was it?"
He hesitated before telling her. "To protect you. Till the end of the world. And I'll keep that promise." He added viciously, "even if it kills me!" She looked up, surprised.
"You really loved her, didn't you?" she asked softly.
He nodded, pain wracking his whole body. "Still do. Always will, even though she's not here." He paused, not knowing quite what to say to her. "But I love you too, you know. I mean, not in the same way, of course. More like – a friend, or a sister or something." He hoped he hadn't made matters worse.
She let him hold her, knowing that somehow it was helping him as much as it was helping her.
"You've always been my friend, Spike. But you can never take her place you know…"
"I don't want to take her place. No one can ever take her place…"
"…but I think you'd be a cool brother."
He looked at her in disbelief. "You mean that?"
"I mean it."
Looking in her eyes, he knew she was telling the truth. He half smiled at her, lost for words. "Thank you."
She laid her head back on his shoulder.
"You know the knife Doc used to stab you?"
"Mm."
"It was the same knife he used to cut me, and he didn't clean it first. So some of your blood probably got into my bloodstream…"
"Don't worry, it won't turn you into a vampire…" he was quick to reassure her.
"I know. What I mean is, does that make you my blood brother?"
"Well – I don't know. I think I'd have to have some of your blood in me for – oh." He remembered, Dawn's hands, covered with blood, trying to clean the wound on his head. Of course. It was her blood on her hands, not his. "Yes, I suppose it does."
"Strange thought, isn't it? Slayer's sister blood-kin with a vampire."
"Yeah, bloody strange. Great headline!" He said morosely.
"Sorry." She shouldn't have mentioned her sister like that…
"Come on, it's late. I'll take you home."
"You're throwing me out?"
"No! No, but this is no place for you. You should be at home, with…" he bit his lip, realising what he'd been about to say.
"My memories?" She said bitterly. "Great. All my friends gone home, leaving me alone with my memories."
"I didn't say I was going to leave you alone," he said gently. "Just that this wasn't a place for you. It's cold, dark, and I've got nothing in the fridge except blood."
"But you're here."
He sighed. "And if I take you home, I'll be there, won't I?" He let go of her to put on his leather coat. "Coming?"
They didn't speak as they walked back to the house, hands in their pockets, eyes cast down, lost in thought and grief.
"You hungry?" asked Dawn as they got to the house. Spike shook his head.
"Wouldn't mind a drink, though." He sat down on the sofa as she made herself a sandwich.
"What d'you want to drink? There's some fresh blood in the fridge. Or there's tea or coffee or cocoa…"
"Tea would be fine." It seemed so surreal.
She came through with a tray a few minutes later and sat beside him while she ate her sandwich.
"Peanut butter and salami? You have strange tastes!"
"I could say the same about you and blood," she returned.
"Not my fault. I can't help it," he said defensively.
"I know." She laid a hand on his arm. "I was only kidding."
He put an arm round her to show he wasn't upset with her. She nestled closer to him, her arm round his waist. She felt safer, now; not so alone.
"I'm glad you're here," she whispered. "I felt so alone. Even when the others were here. It was like they hated me for everything."
"I'm sure they don't really. They're just upset too."
"I know. But that's how it felt. Like I was an outsider. I don't feel that with you."
"Well, I'm an outsider too. Figures." Surreal. Spike the Agony Uncle? Didn't really fit his image. Too bad. "Anyway, I'm here, and I'll look after you."
"Promise you don't hate me?"
He looked into her eyes, wells of pain and misery, pleading for forgiveness she didn't even need. He kissed her gently on the forehead. "I don't hate you. I never did and I never will."
She was crying. God knows, she'd been through so much recently, she needed to cry, get it out of her system. He held her as she fell to pieces in his arms, sobbing, clinging to him.
Eventually, gradually, she relaxed, the sobbing quietened. Even asleep he could see her pain. Spike held her, looking down at her. She seemed so small, so fragile, so vulnerable. Yet somehow, so like her sister. The tears welled in his eyes.
But Dawn was his sister now, too. His. And he'd protect her till the end of the world.
He sat hunched on the floor of his crypt, the grief so great the tears wouldn't come. Surely he could have saved her. Surely there was something he could have done last night that would have stopped it. All he could see was her broken body in front of him – the feel of her lying limp in his arms as he'd held her, sobbing, not believing she could really be dead. Just when they'd become – well, friends. At least he had that.
He heard a soft noise outside and tried to ignore it. Then again. Still he didn't move. Then a third time. He snatched the door open angrily. And froze as he looked down at the tear-stained face.
"Oh, it's you," he said. "Well, I guess you'd better come in then."
He turned his back as Dawn came into the crypt and shut the door.
"Brandy?" She shook her head.
"Spike, are you angry with me?"
He felt the tears stinging his eyes as she asked. He turned around, and putting his arms around her, shook his head.
"Not your fault. Mine. I should have saved you."
"You did your best…" she began.
"Not good enough. I should have saved you," he repeated. Dawn laid her head on his shoulder.
"At least you tried."
"Not the point."
She wrapped her arms round his waist, strangely comforted that she wasn't alone in her grief.
"Not to you, maybe," she whispered, "but it means a lot to me."
He could feel her tears on his skin, burning like fire, and held her closer.
"I know, Nibblet. I'm sorry. I just wish…"
"I know – so do I. But we can't change it by wishing."
Resting his cheek against the top of her head, he held her, her tears still streaming down her cheeks.
"What was the promise you made? You know, when you said…"
"At the top of the tower?" He kissed the top of her head and gently stroked her hair back from her face. "One that I intend to keep. A promise I made to her."
"What was it?"
He hesitated before telling her. "To protect you. Till the end of the world. And I'll keep that promise." He added viciously, "even if it kills me!" She looked up, surprised.
"You really loved her, didn't you?" she asked softly.
He nodded, pain wracking his whole body. "Still do. Always will, even though she's not here." He paused, not knowing quite what to say to her. "But I love you too, you know. I mean, not in the same way, of course. More like – a friend, or a sister or something." He hoped he hadn't made matters worse.
She let him hold her, knowing that somehow it was helping him as much as it was helping her.
"You've always been my friend, Spike. But you can never take her place you know…"
"I don't want to take her place. No one can ever take her place…"
"…but I think you'd be a cool brother."
He looked at her in disbelief. "You mean that?"
"I mean it."
Looking in her eyes, he knew she was telling the truth. He half smiled at her, lost for words. "Thank you."
She laid her head back on his shoulder.
"You know the knife Doc used to stab you?"
"Mm."
"It was the same knife he used to cut me, and he didn't clean it first. So some of your blood probably got into my bloodstream…"
"Don't worry, it won't turn you into a vampire…" he was quick to reassure her.
"I know. What I mean is, does that make you my blood brother?"
"Well – I don't know. I think I'd have to have some of your blood in me for – oh." He remembered, Dawn's hands, covered with blood, trying to clean the wound on his head. Of course. It was her blood on her hands, not his. "Yes, I suppose it does."
"Strange thought, isn't it? Slayer's sister blood-kin with a vampire."
"Yeah, bloody strange. Great headline!" He said morosely.
"Sorry." She shouldn't have mentioned her sister like that…
"Come on, it's late. I'll take you home."
"You're throwing me out?"
"No! No, but this is no place for you. You should be at home, with…" he bit his lip, realising what he'd been about to say.
"My memories?" She said bitterly. "Great. All my friends gone home, leaving me alone with my memories."
"I didn't say I was going to leave you alone," he said gently. "Just that this wasn't a place for you. It's cold, dark, and I've got nothing in the fridge except blood."
"But you're here."
He sighed. "And if I take you home, I'll be there, won't I?" He let go of her to put on his leather coat. "Coming?"
They didn't speak as they walked back to the house, hands in their pockets, eyes cast down, lost in thought and grief.
"You hungry?" asked Dawn as they got to the house. Spike shook his head.
"Wouldn't mind a drink, though." He sat down on the sofa as she made herself a sandwich.
"What d'you want to drink? There's some fresh blood in the fridge. Or there's tea or coffee or cocoa…"
"Tea would be fine." It seemed so surreal.
She came through with a tray a few minutes later and sat beside him while she ate her sandwich.
"Peanut butter and salami? You have strange tastes!"
"I could say the same about you and blood," she returned.
"Not my fault. I can't help it," he said defensively.
"I know." She laid a hand on his arm. "I was only kidding."
He put an arm round her to show he wasn't upset with her. She nestled closer to him, her arm round his waist. She felt safer, now; not so alone.
"I'm glad you're here," she whispered. "I felt so alone. Even when the others were here. It was like they hated me for everything."
"I'm sure they don't really. They're just upset too."
"I know. But that's how it felt. Like I was an outsider. I don't feel that with you."
"Well, I'm an outsider too. Figures." Surreal. Spike the Agony Uncle? Didn't really fit his image. Too bad. "Anyway, I'm here, and I'll look after you."
"Promise you don't hate me?"
He looked into her eyes, wells of pain and misery, pleading for forgiveness she didn't even need. He kissed her gently on the forehead. "I don't hate you. I never did and I never will."
She was crying. God knows, she'd been through so much recently, she needed to cry, get it out of her system. He held her as she fell to pieces in his arms, sobbing, clinging to him.
Eventually, gradually, she relaxed, the sobbing quietened. Even asleep he could see her pain. Spike held her, looking down at her. She seemed so small, so fragile, so vulnerable. Yet somehow, so like her sister. The tears welled in his eyes.
But Dawn was his sister now, too. His. And he'd protect her till the end of the world.