Buffy glanced nervously at her sister, who was giving her equally wary
looks from over her too full plate of burned breakfast food. Bacon,
waffles, pancakes, eggs, sausage. Buffy moved the food around her plate,
but otherwise, it was untouched. Finally, "Dawn?"
She looked up from where she had been intently studying a strip of bacon, trying not to see Buffy's blotchy cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and pale lips. Just as she had tried hard to not hear the wracking sobs from the next room the night before. "What?"
Buffy took a deep breath. What do say? Spike will kill you? He's not invited in the house? We had a fight? He's an asshole? I'm not a whore? Marry Andrew? Stay away from blood drinking idiots named Spike? Don't trust men, they break your heart? Don't give your heart to someone who can rip it out of your chest, literally, and drink from it like a coconut shell drink they sell with little umbrellas? "I uninvited Spike from our home, and I expect you to respect my decision, and stay away from him."
Dawn's eyes flashed. "What?? Buffy, you can't! You said.... You said... even if you two ever fought.... or, or anything, it... it wouldn't change anything. You said you wouldn't ever forbid me to see him! YOU SWORE!!!!" The teen was panicking.
"Dawn, I know, but it's-"
She interrupted, "I heard you last night! What did you say to him?" Dawn was shaking, visibly, head to toe.
Buffy stood. "I didn't SAY anything to him!" Her own sister automatically blamed it on her. "He can't... Dawn... he..." Buffy's face closed down. "It doesn't matter. I told you that he is uninvited. Do NOT let him in, do NOT seek him out. If you see him on the street, I want you to cross to the other side, and RUN in the opposite direction, until you are home, and lock the door."
Dawn blanched, came to her feet, then stumbled back into her chair. "You... you said the same thing... when... When Angel lost his soul."
Buffy just stared at her sister. Didn't answer in the affirmative, or the negative. Dawn's eyes narrowed on a bruise high up on Buffy's cheek. "He hit you." A whisper, a denial, a betrayal.
Buffy diverted her gaze for a moment. "Stay away from Spike, Dawn."
With one confused, hurt, angry look, Dawn stood, walked upstairs quietly, and slammed the door. Buffy flinched as it slammed, then let out a quaking breath. She began gathering dishes and depositing them in the sink.
========================================================================== ==========
Dawn tucked her stake into the back pocket of her blue jeans, pulled a knitted ski-cap over her hair, and yanked at the hem of the long-sleeved black shirt she wore. A good-sized silver cross hung from her neck, and a wooden one was stuck into her front pocket. She opened her window, getting ready to climb out, then grabbed a bottle of holy water, dumping it all over the window ledge. She'd have to leave the window open to get back in. But no vampire could get in in her absence now. The wood was soaked. She poured it over the doorknob on the inside of her room as well. She snuck from the house, shimmying down a trellis, then a small tree, to hop easily, expertly, to the ground. Buffy was training. She'd have three hours, absolute max, to get back in the house. She set off at a slow run to the cemetery.
========================================================================== =========
Spike was in the same place that he'd been since he'd stumbled home that morning, barely avoiding the first rays of the sun. He didn't have any concept of how long he'd stayed on Buffy's porch, hoping... praying that she'd open the door, reinvite him in. But it didn't happen. Eventually, the lights switched off, and Spike was forced to leave. His demon wasn't ready to die. If it had been, he would have just stayed there, waiting for sunrise. As it was, he barely made it back to his crypt in time. He filled the cat's food and water, and then fell bonelessly onto the couch. Reason to live? What reason? He was alone. Totally alone. Buffy had left him. She was probably out with that new guy right now. Laughing. Just like the last night.
He lay there, not moving, not breathing, not caring. Finally, he managed to doze off, only to dream of the tower once more. But it was different this time. Buffy died, and her ghost followed him, screaming at him that he would never be good enough for her. Never be deserving. No matter how much he changed, she didn't want a monster. She put him through a living hell. And then a real one. Finally, thankfully, he was awakened by the crypt door banging open.
Dawn had stood outside, deciding on a course of action. A lot of bullshit bravado sounded good, so she did a Buffy. Kick the door open.
Spike started awake with a yelp, then laid back at an excruciating pain in his stomach. Like a hunger pang, but worse. Empty. His sunken eyes locked on the ladder. Hoping that whoever had come in intended to kill him, because hell had to be better than life without Buffy.
Damn. He wasn't even in the upper level to scare. Deep breath, her fingers brushing the stake, gaining confidence from it. She descended the ladder, chin raised, eyes full of fire.
He just watched as Dawn entered the lower level. Harmon meowed a greeting to the Key, but was ignored. Spike noticed the stake... and did nothing. 'Let her do it. I deserve it. I broke my promise not to hurt her. Them. I'm a monster... Always be...'
Dawn stalked purposefully to the sofa he was lounging on. She was careful to keep a distance. He had taught her that. Even if they look relaxed, they could spring up, and kick your ass. So be careful.
His eyes were sunken and reddened from crying. He looked up at her, almost as if he was looking through her. "...Bit...", said very quietly.
She watched his face carefully as she laid her hand on the cross in her front pocket. "What did you do to her? You broke her."
He didn't answer, just stared at the stake in her pocket. He wanted it, but didn't have the energy to get it from her.
She kicked out one foot, cracking him in the ankle. "I'm talking to you."
"I bit her stake."
"I want to hate you."
"I want you to."
"I want to hate you more than I want my mom back, to have a normal life, and to pass Algebra."
The words stung. All the more because she meant them. He just looked at her. "It wasn't supposed to happen again. I thought that the soul... I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."
"She was happy. She was stressed the last week or so, but she was happy. How did you break her?"
"I didn't... She was... I.. The claim... Ignoring me, and then she was with this other guy... And..."
She gave a disbelieving snort. "Another guy? Were you drunk then, too?"
"I'm not drunk. She was dancing with another guy. Laughing with him. After she's been ignoring me for a week, and now I see her with this.... this.. Human. That's what it is. She doesn't need me. I'm a monster. Let her go with this new guy. A human. Maybe he'll make her happy." His eyes closed, the tirade taking most of the energy that he had left. He moaned. "Stomach hurts..."
Dawn's eyes were glittering with a righteous fury. "Buffy would never CHEAT on you. She's been through HELL to get you back. So WHAT if she was dancing with some guy?"
He couldn't move. Said quietly, "I insulted her. Attacked her. Bit her stake. I'm a monster. Dawn, if you care about me at all, and even if you don't, please stake me. I'm begging you. Buffy uninvited me from her life. Told me that she'd tell you that I died. Told me to leave. I can't move. So stake me..." Eyes opened, pleading. "...please..."
She trained her eyes on his. Her heart was breaking, and it wasn't fair. "I came here to kill you. I came here to hit you, and break you, and hurt you as much as I feel hurt and broken."
"You're too late. But hit me, hurt me, kill me, if it will make you feel better. Just please just get it over with." His eyes, his soul, were already broken. Hurting. Bleeding worse than any injury that any mortal weapon could ever cause.
She shook her head. "I just figured it out. If I do... and I hurt you, and break you, and kill you, something will die inside of me. Because no matter what, you're my big brother. You held me in storms, the real ones, and the ones you get in life."
He looked up at her, unable to even move. "I'll leave, Dawn. Tonight. None of you will ever hear from me again. I'm sorry for all the hurt I've caused, every time I'm here. I just make things worse. You won't know what happens to me, so just make up your own story. I don't care anymore." Mentally, he added, 'Cause I'm going up on the bluff before dawn tonight.'
She looked him in the eye, placed the cross and stake on the floor. Reached up, unclasped her necklace, let it pool beside the weapons.
He just looked at her, unsure of what was happening, and wishing that the pain that felt as if his bellybutton was rubbing a hole in his spine would stop.
She made sure he realized what she was doing: putting herself in his hands. She knelt at his feet, said softly, "I don't want to make anything up. I'm done with lies. I love you. Don't leave."
He stared at her, tears spilling down his cheeks again for the umpteenth time that night and day. "Oh Dawn..." Raised a hand up, cupped her cheek. "Still? You can't still love me, Bit. It's.. It doesn't make sense."
She smiled softly, tremulously. "When has love made sense in our lives, yet?"
He pulled her to him in a crushing hug. "You have a point, Bit. I love you too." Held her away from him by the shoulders. "But you have to stay away from me now. Respect your sister's wishes for once."
"No."
"Dawn." Warning tone. "If not her, then me. I want you to stay away. I'm not going to be here much longer, anyway."
Her eyes flooded and she scrambled for the stake, clutched it to her chest. "No! You.... you can't...."
"Dawn," he said quietly, looking at her, the pain radiating in his eyes. "I can't do this anymore. The claim... The soul... everything hurts. You can't know what it's like."
"You... You can't leave me." The tears spilled over.
"God, Dawn... I'm not leaving you alone. You have your family. Your friends. Your life. You should live it."
Her bottom lip was quivering madly. "I want you in it."
"Buffy doesn't."
"Yes, she does!", Dawn cried around a small sob. "She's just... scared. And... and hurt. She loves you. More than I do."
He choked back a sob. "I know. But I messed up. Royally. And I don't think I can fix it now. This is for the best. Please don't cry, Niblet."
She snuffled. "You aren't allowed to say that if you're crying, too. Give it time, please? Please don't go. Buffy will never forgive me."
He sniffed. "M'not cryin'. And yes she would. You're her family. And she doesn't even know you were here, so she can't blame you."
"I'll tell her," she threatened. "I'll tell her I was here, and it's my fault, and how could you live knowing Buffy would be mad at me forever?"
Watery chuckle. "I'm not living now, Bit."
"I... I messed up with Andrew, big time. And.. he... he's not mad anymore. It just took some time... Please, Spike."
He could never say no to her. That had gotten him bitten by a huge three headed, egg laying demon the last time. But, just like then, she was right on some level. And, just like then, she was terrified of losing a family member. Spike looked at her. "Alright, Bit. You have my word that I will not stake myself, or try to get a tan, or limbo with a sword. Ok?"
She nodded quickly, gratitude and love flooding her face. "I need you," she confided quietly.
"I need you too, Dawn." He gave her a shaky smile. "Who else would I go to when I needed someone to make fun of me over my addiction to soap operas and sappy movies?"
"I need you to scare my dates, and wipe off my mouth when you think I'm too sexy, and never tell me lies. I need you to tell me that things are gonna be ok, and that you love me."
He pulled her onto the couch with him. "And I need you to make me feel better everytime I have those bloody nightmares, and tickle me silly to prove your points, and to just be around to hug when I need one. Like now."
She hugged him tightly, her face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, ignoring the weakness he was feeling in his limbs and the pain in his stomach. Nuzzled her gently. "I love you, Dawn. You're my Lil' Bit, and you'll always be my little sister. In heart, anyway."
She nodded, pulled back, nodded again. "Love you too." She frowned. "Why are you so thin?"
He glanced down, taking in his ribs that now clearly showed through his tight tee shirt. "Dunno. Had a full pint last night. I should be fine. Usually doesn't bother me. Not feeding for a couple of days, I mean."
Dawn frowned at him. "Spike. If I ate every two days, you'd kill me."
"Dawn. You don't operate on the principals of a cold blooded creature. Crocodiles only need to eat once a month."
She rolled her eyes. "But they just keep pulling those poor antelope into the water, EVERYDAY just because they can. Take notes."
He tried to keep a stern face. It didn't work. "I gotta stop watching that "Crocodile Hunter" wanker."
She grinned. "Right." She stood, began to root through his fridge. She glared at the vampire. "Give me twenty bucks."
"Huh?"
"Give me twenty bucks, you retard. You are out of blood."
He stared at her. "First of all, I knew that. Second of all, stop calling me retarded. I happen to have an IQ of 189." A trace of William snuck into his voice at the last statement.
Dawn rolled her eyes. "A genius with no common sense... how unique. I have almost two hours before Buffy gets home. I can run and get you some blood."
He shook his head. "No. I was going to go tonight. It can wait. You have a date. You need to get ready."
She gave him an odd look. "Spike... I don't have a date, I cancelled it."
He cocked his head. "Why?"
"Because I figured after I staked you I wouldn't be in the mood for dinner and a movie. I intended to sleep here."
He just looked at her. "You were... going to kill me... and then sleep in the same room as my dust?" Chuckled quietly. "Bit, you might have made a decent vampire."
She gave him a proud smile. "Thanks. I was gonna wrap up in your duster, sit on the couch, drink all your alcohol and cry. Now c'mon. Money."
He just looked at her. "What if I told you that I'm broke?"
"Then I'd say that's ok, I'll be back as soon as possible."
"And what are you going to use for money if I don't give you any? And I won't let you spend your allowance on me. Especially not on blood. Which I can get myself, thank you very much."
She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't spend my allowance on you." She scrambled to cover her ass. "I.... uh.... mean, I'd offer you an arm." She extended one in his direction. Hand cocked down, wrist exposed.
He stared at it. "Uh uh. No way in hell or any other dimension."
"Ok." She lowered her arm. "Are you really broke?"
Shook his head. "No. I don't think so. I got all my stuff last night for free. But I don't remember where I put my wallet, that's all."
"Oh. Well, I'll be back in less than an hour, ok?"
He sat up slightly. "If you aren't going to use your allowance, and you aren't going to get money from me, then how do you propose to get blood?"
Looked straight in his eyes. "Geez, Spike. I'm gonna rob the butcher's." She laughed. "Whatever. There are some extra bags at home. I can just go pick 'em up."
He grinned, then it faded. "Unless your sister's poured 'em down the disposal."
"I'm sure she didn't." 'Since we were out a week ago.' "So. See you in less than an hour?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Ok. I'm gonna go.. take a nap. I'm feeling really... drained. Just put them in the fridge when you get back, ok?"
She nodded. "Right."
========================================================================== ==========
Less than forty minutes later, Dawn ran into Spike's crypt, chest heaving and her whole body shaking. Oh man... close. She crept downstairs, began stocking his fridge with shaking hands, her adrenaline pumping.
On the bed, Spike was curled up on his side, holding his Tigger to his chest. Harmon was snuggled up against his back. There was no movement save breathing, and that was mostly from the cat.
She didn't place the last bag in the fridge, she ripped it open, dumped it in a mug, and heated it up. When the microwave beeped, she took it out, brought it to the bed, where Spike lay. Shook his shoulder.
He grunted. "Mm sleepin'. Go way."
"Mm. Too bad. Wakey wakey."
Rolled onto his stomach, on top of the Tigger. Said into the pillow, "..no..."
"I worked hard to get this blood." She poked his ear. "Get up."
Half roll over. "Though you just got it from home." She smelled like the butcher's. And he could tell that she'd recently been running. And not just to run, either. There was the scent of fear around her. "What chased you?"
She shrugged, shoved the mug at him. "Random baddie. Kinda green. Smaller. Broke its neck. No big."
Scents don't lie. And her scent said that she was. "Hmm," was all he said as he took the mug and drank deeply, his eyes closing. The mug was empty in less than ten seconds.
She took it from him, opened another bag, heated it, too. He drained that one as well. He had an inkling as to what was wrong with him, but he couldn't be sure. At any rate, the full stomach made him feel worlds better. He sighed and leaned back on the bed. "You'd better be getting home, now, Bit. Buffy's gonna be back any time now."
She nodded. "I'm gonna come back. And keep coming back."
He smiled at her. "I know. Thank you. For everything."
She grinned. "Hey. No big."
========================================================================== ==========
Spike was worse. The full stomach had emptied quicker than he though possible. He was feeling incredibly weak again, and it was getting harder to move. To think straight. He needed someone to take care of him. Someone who loved him. A mother. Joyce. His cracked lips opened, and a two word plea escaped. "...Joyce ...help.."
Joyce leaned forward over the table. "I'm telling you, Peter, saint or not, my Buffy has you beat! In fact-" She broke off. "Excuse me, please. My son.... he's sick. And... calling for me..." She stood, vanishing in three strides.
"... Joyce..", Spike called again, fading.
Spike felt a cool sweep across his forehead. 'Spike. I'm here.'
Spike looked around with sunken eyes. "I can't see you."
She concentrated, made herself slowly visible on this plane. 'Better?'
He smiled at her. "Thank you. Are you here to take me back with you?"
She shook her head. "That's not my job. But you called to me." Her cool hand swept across his forehead and down one cheek. "Here I am."
Spike looked slightly disappointed. "Oh. But I'm gonna die."
She looked closely at him. "Do you want to?"
"I did. But Dawn changed my mind."
A mother's smile, gentle, crossed her lips. "I know. Some things aren't meant to happen."
"Was it the blood bank blood? Am I right?" Tried to touch her, but his hand went through her arm. Whimpered slightly.
She nodded. "Yes it was." She ran her hands over his face and down his arms soothingly. "You shouldn't be drinking people." It was said scoldingly gentle.
He closed his eyes. "I know. I'm sorry. I was just... Upset. Does Buffy know that I'm sorry, Joyce? I want her to know. Before I... go wherever it is I'm going."
"She knows. You hurt her, but she knows you're sorry."
He looked at her. "I.. She.. Can I ask something of you, Joyce? Considering that this might be the last time I see you and all, If I'm going where I think I'm going."
She had no say in such matters, and couldn't- wouldn't- lie to him. "Yes."
"Buffy... She.. Misses you. Wants to see you. I want her to be happy. Could you go to her?" A tear made it's way down his cheek.
She gently wiped it away. He could ask for help. A cure. And he asked after his love. Joyce nodded. "I'll go to her."
He smiled. "Thank you." His eyes closed, breathing slowed, nearly stopped. When it stopped, it would nearly be time. Time to bend the rules.
========================================================================== =========
Buffy folded the towels. Before that, she had folded the jeans. And before THAT, the light shirts. She closed her eyes on a sigh, folding the towel over her arm. She opened them, staring into her mother's eyes. "Hello, Buffy."
Buffy's eyes got large. Swung her head back and forth, taking in the whole basement, focusing on her mother once more. "Oh my God." Closed her eyes, hard. Opened them again. "Oh my God."
Joyce smiled indulgently. "I'm still going to be here when you're finished blinking, dear. And really. You're folding the towels very sloppily."
Buffy's mouth moved then finally, "What the fu-"
"Buffy Anne! I taught you better than that."
Buffy closed her mouth, properly chagrined. "Sorry. M-mommy... why are you here? Am I... am I dreaming?"
Joyce reached out to cradle Buffy's cheek in her hand. Buffy nuzzled into it, tears streaking down her face. "I love you, Mom. I love you, I love you. I didn't tell you that day, and I'm sorry, because I love you and-"
Joyce shushed her. "I know you love me. I could never doubt it. I'm here, as a direct violation of the rules they have up there. But... some things are meant to happen." She looked at her daughter. "And other things are not. I expect to be properly chastised for this, but really. We're not much for rule-following, are we?"
Buffy shook her head, watching her mother.
"I'm sure that falling in love with a vampire is against a Council Rule, yes?"
Buffy's eyes flooded again. "I don't wanna talk about him Mom. I can't."
"Of course you can. You just choose not to. He's not well."
Buffy snorted, and handed her mother a towel to fold. "You're telling me."
Joyce folded the towel neatly, expertly, placed it on the pile, grabbed another. "Yes, Buffy, I AM telling you. He asked me to come here to see you. I haven't because... well, I didn't think you needed me. I mean, I always watch for you, but... I didn't think you needed carrying."
Buffy just stared at her mother.
Joyce continued. "He's sorry. Very."
Her daughter's lip shook. "I know. But it's not that simple. He-"
"Yes, honey. Sometimes it IS as simple as 'I forgive you'. You just like to be complicated. But I'm telling you. He's not well. And he didn't ask for a cure, or help. He asked for me to see you, to make you happy."
Buffy stilled. "What?"
Joyce could feel herself being yanked, forcefully, back to her place. "I have to leave, very soon. First, I love you. I'm proud of you. Same with your sister. But Buffy... Some things aren't meant to happen. You have to hurry... There's not much time."
"Time for what? What do I need to do?"
"You need to hurry. Some things aren't meant to happen... I love you, baby mine. Run." And Joyce disappeared.
Buffy stood, for all of two seconds. She head snapped to attention. Laundry. How could she have fallen asleep standing up, and dream about Mom? It was a new record. She slapped her towel down on the stack with a sigh. Her eyes widened and she lifted the towel back up. Stared at the one now on top. She didn't fold like that. The only person who ever had- Her mother. The towel fell from her fingers. "Oh, God... Spike...." She turned, and ran.
She looked up from where she had been intently studying a strip of bacon, trying not to see Buffy's blotchy cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and pale lips. Just as she had tried hard to not hear the wracking sobs from the next room the night before. "What?"
Buffy took a deep breath. What do say? Spike will kill you? He's not invited in the house? We had a fight? He's an asshole? I'm not a whore? Marry Andrew? Stay away from blood drinking idiots named Spike? Don't trust men, they break your heart? Don't give your heart to someone who can rip it out of your chest, literally, and drink from it like a coconut shell drink they sell with little umbrellas? "I uninvited Spike from our home, and I expect you to respect my decision, and stay away from him."
Dawn's eyes flashed. "What?? Buffy, you can't! You said.... You said... even if you two ever fought.... or, or anything, it... it wouldn't change anything. You said you wouldn't ever forbid me to see him! YOU SWORE!!!!" The teen was panicking.
"Dawn, I know, but it's-"
She interrupted, "I heard you last night! What did you say to him?" Dawn was shaking, visibly, head to toe.
Buffy stood. "I didn't SAY anything to him!" Her own sister automatically blamed it on her. "He can't... Dawn... he..." Buffy's face closed down. "It doesn't matter. I told you that he is uninvited. Do NOT let him in, do NOT seek him out. If you see him on the street, I want you to cross to the other side, and RUN in the opposite direction, until you are home, and lock the door."
Dawn blanched, came to her feet, then stumbled back into her chair. "You... you said the same thing... when... When Angel lost his soul."
Buffy just stared at her sister. Didn't answer in the affirmative, or the negative. Dawn's eyes narrowed on a bruise high up on Buffy's cheek. "He hit you." A whisper, a denial, a betrayal.
Buffy diverted her gaze for a moment. "Stay away from Spike, Dawn."
With one confused, hurt, angry look, Dawn stood, walked upstairs quietly, and slammed the door. Buffy flinched as it slammed, then let out a quaking breath. She began gathering dishes and depositing them in the sink.
========================================================================== ==========
Dawn tucked her stake into the back pocket of her blue jeans, pulled a knitted ski-cap over her hair, and yanked at the hem of the long-sleeved black shirt she wore. A good-sized silver cross hung from her neck, and a wooden one was stuck into her front pocket. She opened her window, getting ready to climb out, then grabbed a bottle of holy water, dumping it all over the window ledge. She'd have to leave the window open to get back in. But no vampire could get in in her absence now. The wood was soaked. She poured it over the doorknob on the inside of her room as well. She snuck from the house, shimmying down a trellis, then a small tree, to hop easily, expertly, to the ground. Buffy was training. She'd have three hours, absolute max, to get back in the house. She set off at a slow run to the cemetery.
========================================================================== =========
Spike was in the same place that he'd been since he'd stumbled home that morning, barely avoiding the first rays of the sun. He didn't have any concept of how long he'd stayed on Buffy's porch, hoping... praying that she'd open the door, reinvite him in. But it didn't happen. Eventually, the lights switched off, and Spike was forced to leave. His demon wasn't ready to die. If it had been, he would have just stayed there, waiting for sunrise. As it was, he barely made it back to his crypt in time. He filled the cat's food and water, and then fell bonelessly onto the couch. Reason to live? What reason? He was alone. Totally alone. Buffy had left him. She was probably out with that new guy right now. Laughing. Just like the last night.
He lay there, not moving, not breathing, not caring. Finally, he managed to doze off, only to dream of the tower once more. But it was different this time. Buffy died, and her ghost followed him, screaming at him that he would never be good enough for her. Never be deserving. No matter how much he changed, she didn't want a monster. She put him through a living hell. And then a real one. Finally, thankfully, he was awakened by the crypt door banging open.
Dawn had stood outside, deciding on a course of action. A lot of bullshit bravado sounded good, so she did a Buffy. Kick the door open.
Spike started awake with a yelp, then laid back at an excruciating pain in his stomach. Like a hunger pang, but worse. Empty. His sunken eyes locked on the ladder. Hoping that whoever had come in intended to kill him, because hell had to be better than life without Buffy.
Damn. He wasn't even in the upper level to scare. Deep breath, her fingers brushing the stake, gaining confidence from it. She descended the ladder, chin raised, eyes full of fire.
He just watched as Dawn entered the lower level. Harmon meowed a greeting to the Key, but was ignored. Spike noticed the stake... and did nothing. 'Let her do it. I deserve it. I broke my promise not to hurt her. Them. I'm a monster... Always be...'
Dawn stalked purposefully to the sofa he was lounging on. She was careful to keep a distance. He had taught her that. Even if they look relaxed, they could spring up, and kick your ass. So be careful.
His eyes were sunken and reddened from crying. He looked up at her, almost as if he was looking through her. "...Bit...", said very quietly.
She watched his face carefully as she laid her hand on the cross in her front pocket. "What did you do to her? You broke her."
He didn't answer, just stared at the stake in her pocket. He wanted it, but didn't have the energy to get it from her.
She kicked out one foot, cracking him in the ankle. "I'm talking to you."
"I bit her stake."
"I want to hate you."
"I want you to."
"I want to hate you more than I want my mom back, to have a normal life, and to pass Algebra."
The words stung. All the more because she meant them. He just looked at her. "It wasn't supposed to happen again. I thought that the soul... I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."
"She was happy. She was stressed the last week or so, but she was happy. How did you break her?"
"I didn't... She was... I.. The claim... Ignoring me, and then she was with this other guy... And..."
She gave a disbelieving snort. "Another guy? Were you drunk then, too?"
"I'm not drunk. She was dancing with another guy. Laughing with him. After she's been ignoring me for a week, and now I see her with this.... this.. Human. That's what it is. She doesn't need me. I'm a monster. Let her go with this new guy. A human. Maybe he'll make her happy." His eyes closed, the tirade taking most of the energy that he had left. He moaned. "Stomach hurts..."
Dawn's eyes were glittering with a righteous fury. "Buffy would never CHEAT on you. She's been through HELL to get you back. So WHAT if she was dancing with some guy?"
He couldn't move. Said quietly, "I insulted her. Attacked her. Bit her stake. I'm a monster. Dawn, if you care about me at all, and even if you don't, please stake me. I'm begging you. Buffy uninvited me from her life. Told me that she'd tell you that I died. Told me to leave. I can't move. So stake me..." Eyes opened, pleading. "...please..."
She trained her eyes on his. Her heart was breaking, and it wasn't fair. "I came here to kill you. I came here to hit you, and break you, and hurt you as much as I feel hurt and broken."
"You're too late. But hit me, hurt me, kill me, if it will make you feel better. Just please just get it over with." His eyes, his soul, were already broken. Hurting. Bleeding worse than any injury that any mortal weapon could ever cause.
She shook her head. "I just figured it out. If I do... and I hurt you, and break you, and kill you, something will die inside of me. Because no matter what, you're my big brother. You held me in storms, the real ones, and the ones you get in life."
He looked up at her, unable to even move. "I'll leave, Dawn. Tonight. None of you will ever hear from me again. I'm sorry for all the hurt I've caused, every time I'm here. I just make things worse. You won't know what happens to me, so just make up your own story. I don't care anymore." Mentally, he added, 'Cause I'm going up on the bluff before dawn tonight.'
She looked him in the eye, placed the cross and stake on the floor. Reached up, unclasped her necklace, let it pool beside the weapons.
He just looked at her, unsure of what was happening, and wishing that the pain that felt as if his bellybutton was rubbing a hole in his spine would stop.
She made sure he realized what she was doing: putting herself in his hands. She knelt at his feet, said softly, "I don't want to make anything up. I'm done with lies. I love you. Don't leave."
He stared at her, tears spilling down his cheeks again for the umpteenth time that night and day. "Oh Dawn..." Raised a hand up, cupped her cheek. "Still? You can't still love me, Bit. It's.. It doesn't make sense."
She smiled softly, tremulously. "When has love made sense in our lives, yet?"
He pulled her to him in a crushing hug. "You have a point, Bit. I love you too." Held her away from him by the shoulders. "But you have to stay away from me now. Respect your sister's wishes for once."
"No."
"Dawn." Warning tone. "If not her, then me. I want you to stay away. I'm not going to be here much longer, anyway."
Her eyes flooded and she scrambled for the stake, clutched it to her chest. "No! You.... you can't...."
"Dawn," he said quietly, looking at her, the pain radiating in his eyes. "I can't do this anymore. The claim... The soul... everything hurts. You can't know what it's like."
"You... You can't leave me." The tears spilled over.
"God, Dawn... I'm not leaving you alone. You have your family. Your friends. Your life. You should live it."
Her bottom lip was quivering madly. "I want you in it."
"Buffy doesn't."
"Yes, she does!", Dawn cried around a small sob. "She's just... scared. And... and hurt. She loves you. More than I do."
He choked back a sob. "I know. But I messed up. Royally. And I don't think I can fix it now. This is for the best. Please don't cry, Niblet."
She snuffled. "You aren't allowed to say that if you're crying, too. Give it time, please? Please don't go. Buffy will never forgive me."
He sniffed. "M'not cryin'. And yes she would. You're her family. And she doesn't even know you were here, so she can't blame you."
"I'll tell her," she threatened. "I'll tell her I was here, and it's my fault, and how could you live knowing Buffy would be mad at me forever?"
Watery chuckle. "I'm not living now, Bit."
"I... I messed up with Andrew, big time. And.. he... he's not mad anymore. It just took some time... Please, Spike."
He could never say no to her. That had gotten him bitten by a huge three headed, egg laying demon the last time. But, just like then, she was right on some level. And, just like then, she was terrified of losing a family member. Spike looked at her. "Alright, Bit. You have my word that I will not stake myself, or try to get a tan, or limbo with a sword. Ok?"
She nodded quickly, gratitude and love flooding her face. "I need you," she confided quietly.
"I need you too, Dawn." He gave her a shaky smile. "Who else would I go to when I needed someone to make fun of me over my addiction to soap operas and sappy movies?"
"I need you to scare my dates, and wipe off my mouth when you think I'm too sexy, and never tell me lies. I need you to tell me that things are gonna be ok, and that you love me."
He pulled her onto the couch with him. "And I need you to make me feel better everytime I have those bloody nightmares, and tickle me silly to prove your points, and to just be around to hug when I need one. Like now."
She hugged him tightly, her face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, ignoring the weakness he was feeling in his limbs and the pain in his stomach. Nuzzled her gently. "I love you, Dawn. You're my Lil' Bit, and you'll always be my little sister. In heart, anyway."
She nodded, pulled back, nodded again. "Love you too." She frowned. "Why are you so thin?"
He glanced down, taking in his ribs that now clearly showed through his tight tee shirt. "Dunno. Had a full pint last night. I should be fine. Usually doesn't bother me. Not feeding for a couple of days, I mean."
Dawn frowned at him. "Spike. If I ate every two days, you'd kill me."
"Dawn. You don't operate on the principals of a cold blooded creature. Crocodiles only need to eat once a month."
She rolled her eyes. "But they just keep pulling those poor antelope into the water, EVERYDAY just because they can. Take notes."
He tried to keep a stern face. It didn't work. "I gotta stop watching that "Crocodile Hunter" wanker."
She grinned. "Right." She stood, began to root through his fridge. She glared at the vampire. "Give me twenty bucks."
"Huh?"
"Give me twenty bucks, you retard. You are out of blood."
He stared at her. "First of all, I knew that. Second of all, stop calling me retarded. I happen to have an IQ of 189." A trace of William snuck into his voice at the last statement.
Dawn rolled her eyes. "A genius with no common sense... how unique. I have almost two hours before Buffy gets home. I can run and get you some blood."
He shook his head. "No. I was going to go tonight. It can wait. You have a date. You need to get ready."
She gave him an odd look. "Spike... I don't have a date, I cancelled it."
He cocked his head. "Why?"
"Because I figured after I staked you I wouldn't be in the mood for dinner and a movie. I intended to sleep here."
He just looked at her. "You were... going to kill me... and then sleep in the same room as my dust?" Chuckled quietly. "Bit, you might have made a decent vampire."
She gave him a proud smile. "Thanks. I was gonna wrap up in your duster, sit on the couch, drink all your alcohol and cry. Now c'mon. Money."
He just looked at her. "What if I told you that I'm broke?"
"Then I'd say that's ok, I'll be back as soon as possible."
"And what are you going to use for money if I don't give you any? And I won't let you spend your allowance on me. Especially not on blood. Which I can get myself, thank you very much."
She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't spend my allowance on you." She scrambled to cover her ass. "I.... uh.... mean, I'd offer you an arm." She extended one in his direction. Hand cocked down, wrist exposed.
He stared at it. "Uh uh. No way in hell or any other dimension."
"Ok." She lowered her arm. "Are you really broke?"
Shook his head. "No. I don't think so. I got all my stuff last night for free. But I don't remember where I put my wallet, that's all."
"Oh. Well, I'll be back in less than an hour, ok?"
He sat up slightly. "If you aren't going to use your allowance, and you aren't going to get money from me, then how do you propose to get blood?"
Looked straight in his eyes. "Geez, Spike. I'm gonna rob the butcher's." She laughed. "Whatever. There are some extra bags at home. I can just go pick 'em up."
He grinned, then it faded. "Unless your sister's poured 'em down the disposal."
"I'm sure she didn't." 'Since we were out a week ago.' "So. See you in less than an hour?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Ok. I'm gonna go.. take a nap. I'm feeling really... drained. Just put them in the fridge when you get back, ok?"
She nodded. "Right."
========================================================================== ==========
Less than forty minutes later, Dawn ran into Spike's crypt, chest heaving and her whole body shaking. Oh man... close. She crept downstairs, began stocking his fridge with shaking hands, her adrenaline pumping.
On the bed, Spike was curled up on his side, holding his Tigger to his chest. Harmon was snuggled up against his back. There was no movement save breathing, and that was mostly from the cat.
She didn't place the last bag in the fridge, she ripped it open, dumped it in a mug, and heated it up. When the microwave beeped, she took it out, brought it to the bed, where Spike lay. Shook his shoulder.
He grunted. "Mm sleepin'. Go way."
"Mm. Too bad. Wakey wakey."
Rolled onto his stomach, on top of the Tigger. Said into the pillow, "..no..."
"I worked hard to get this blood." She poked his ear. "Get up."
Half roll over. "Though you just got it from home." She smelled like the butcher's. And he could tell that she'd recently been running. And not just to run, either. There was the scent of fear around her. "What chased you?"
She shrugged, shoved the mug at him. "Random baddie. Kinda green. Smaller. Broke its neck. No big."
Scents don't lie. And her scent said that she was. "Hmm," was all he said as he took the mug and drank deeply, his eyes closing. The mug was empty in less than ten seconds.
She took it from him, opened another bag, heated it, too. He drained that one as well. He had an inkling as to what was wrong with him, but he couldn't be sure. At any rate, the full stomach made him feel worlds better. He sighed and leaned back on the bed. "You'd better be getting home, now, Bit. Buffy's gonna be back any time now."
She nodded. "I'm gonna come back. And keep coming back."
He smiled at her. "I know. Thank you. For everything."
She grinned. "Hey. No big."
========================================================================== ==========
Spike was worse. The full stomach had emptied quicker than he though possible. He was feeling incredibly weak again, and it was getting harder to move. To think straight. He needed someone to take care of him. Someone who loved him. A mother. Joyce. His cracked lips opened, and a two word plea escaped. "...Joyce ...help.."
Joyce leaned forward over the table. "I'm telling you, Peter, saint or not, my Buffy has you beat! In fact-" She broke off. "Excuse me, please. My son.... he's sick. And... calling for me..." She stood, vanishing in three strides.
"... Joyce..", Spike called again, fading.
Spike felt a cool sweep across his forehead. 'Spike. I'm here.'
Spike looked around with sunken eyes. "I can't see you."
She concentrated, made herself slowly visible on this plane. 'Better?'
He smiled at her. "Thank you. Are you here to take me back with you?"
She shook her head. "That's not my job. But you called to me." Her cool hand swept across his forehead and down one cheek. "Here I am."
Spike looked slightly disappointed. "Oh. But I'm gonna die."
She looked closely at him. "Do you want to?"
"I did. But Dawn changed my mind."
A mother's smile, gentle, crossed her lips. "I know. Some things aren't meant to happen."
"Was it the blood bank blood? Am I right?" Tried to touch her, but his hand went through her arm. Whimpered slightly.
She nodded. "Yes it was." She ran her hands over his face and down his arms soothingly. "You shouldn't be drinking people." It was said scoldingly gentle.
He closed his eyes. "I know. I'm sorry. I was just... Upset. Does Buffy know that I'm sorry, Joyce? I want her to know. Before I... go wherever it is I'm going."
"She knows. You hurt her, but she knows you're sorry."
He looked at her. "I.. She.. Can I ask something of you, Joyce? Considering that this might be the last time I see you and all, If I'm going where I think I'm going."
She had no say in such matters, and couldn't- wouldn't- lie to him. "Yes."
"Buffy... She.. Misses you. Wants to see you. I want her to be happy. Could you go to her?" A tear made it's way down his cheek.
She gently wiped it away. He could ask for help. A cure. And he asked after his love. Joyce nodded. "I'll go to her."
He smiled. "Thank you." His eyes closed, breathing slowed, nearly stopped. When it stopped, it would nearly be time. Time to bend the rules.
========================================================================== =========
Buffy folded the towels. Before that, she had folded the jeans. And before THAT, the light shirts. She closed her eyes on a sigh, folding the towel over her arm. She opened them, staring into her mother's eyes. "Hello, Buffy."
Buffy's eyes got large. Swung her head back and forth, taking in the whole basement, focusing on her mother once more. "Oh my God." Closed her eyes, hard. Opened them again. "Oh my God."
Joyce smiled indulgently. "I'm still going to be here when you're finished blinking, dear. And really. You're folding the towels very sloppily."
Buffy's mouth moved then finally, "What the fu-"
"Buffy Anne! I taught you better than that."
Buffy closed her mouth, properly chagrined. "Sorry. M-mommy... why are you here? Am I... am I dreaming?"
Joyce reached out to cradle Buffy's cheek in her hand. Buffy nuzzled into it, tears streaking down her face. "I love you, Mom. I love you, I love you. I didn't tell you that day, and I'm sorry, because I love you and-"
Joyce shushed her. "I know you love me. I could never doubt it. I'm here, as a direct violation of the rules they have up there. But... some things are meant to happen." She looked at her daughter. "And other things are not. I expect to be properly chastised for this, but really. We're not much for rule-following, are we?"
Buffy shook her head, watching her mother.
"I'm sure that falling in love with a vampire is against a Council Rule, yes?"
Buffy's eyes flooded again. "I don't wanna talk about him Mom. I can't."
"Of course you can. You just choose not to. He's not well."
Buffy snorted, and handed her mother a towel to fold. "You're telling me."
Joyce folded the towel neatly, expertly, placed it on the pile, grabbed another. "Yes, Buffy, I AM telling you. He asked me to come here to see you. I haven't because... well, I didn't think you needed me. I mean, I always watch for you, but... I didn't think you needed carrying."
Buffy just stared at her mother.
Joyce continued. "He's sorry. Very."
Her daughter's lip shook. "I know. But it's not that simple. He-"
"Yes, honey. Sometimes it IS as simple as 'I forgive you'. You just like to be complicated. But I'm telling you. He's not well. And he didn't ask for a cure, or help. He asked for me to see you, to make you happy."
Buffy stilled. "What?"
Joyce could feel herself being yanked, forcefully, back to her place. "I have to leave, very soon. First, I love you. I'm proud of you. Same with your sister. But Buffy... Some things aren't meant to happen. You have to hurry... There's not much time."
"Time for what? What do I need to do?"
"You need to hurry. Some things aren't meant to happen... I love you, baby mine. Run." And Joyce disappeared.
Buffy stood, for all of two seconds. She head snapped to attention. Laundry. How could she have fallen asleep standing up, and dream about Mom? It was a new record. She slapped her towel down on the stack with a sigh. Her eyes widened and she lifted the towel back up. Stared at the one now on top. She didn't fold like that. The only person who ever had- Her mother. The towel fell from her fingers. "Oh, God... Spike...." She turned, and ran.