Chapter 8 - A Letter Received

The first day of my last week of wearing a chicken hat is over. I'm feeling almost giddy at the impending relief. It's over a week since my conversation with Anya, and apart from a need to apologise to her, I've recovered from the subject of the conversation. Dawn was right. Whatever I am, I've been for over a year now, and I'm doing ok. Life's really looking up. A few more days and I'll have a new job, Dawn and I are getting on fairly well, and I'm actually starting to look at the future with something approaching hope. Of course, I'm still the Slayer, so the future tends to mean the next couple of days, but, that's just the way things are.

I approach the house, and pick up the mail as I pass the mailbox. I rifle through the contents - a couple of bills, a letter from Giles, and another one. Hand-written address, but I'm not sure of the writing. It's been posted locally. I open the door, kicking off my shoes gratefully as I go in. I shout on Dawn, and get a muffled answer from upstairs. I head for the kitchen, pour myself a glass of cola, and sit down. The unknown letter has piqued my curiosity, so I open it first.

The writing has a slightly old-fashioned look about it, and now I see more of it, it's vaguely familiar. I scan down the page to the signature at the bottom and the paper slips out of my fingers to flutter to the floor. Spike. Stunned, I drop to the floor to pick up the paper. I start to read, but don't get beyond the first line before my vision blurs as tears form in my eyes. I wipe a hand across my eyes, and start again. I read his words, feeling his regret which seems to stand out from the paper, something three dimensional and real.

He's going to be working at the school. I wonder what he'll be doing. I mean, it's hard to see how someone with a sunlight allergy can hold down a job like that. I don't know what he'll be doing, and it's a big school, so I don't know whether I'll be seeing him often, but I'm bound to bump into him sometimes. I consider my options. I mean, I handed in my notice at work today, so I can't go back there. I quit once already, won't get another second chance. I can't not work. I mean, we're not in debt any more, but we soon will be if I'm not earning.

I look up to see Dawn watching me. "What's up?" she asks.

I shake my head, finding myself unable to speak. I hand her the letter. We promised we wouldn't keep secrets any more, and she deserves to know. I remember too late the passage about Dawn being in danger. I'm so wrapped up in my own discomfort at seeing Spike again, I hardly noticed the implied threat to her. I try to grab the letter back, but she pulls away, her eyes widening as she reads.

"Spike's back? And he's got an address? And a telephone? And, I'm in danger, again." This last is said with an air of boredom. She looks at me shrewdly. "That's why you tried to grab it back, isn't it?"

I nod. I'm still not sure my voice will work.

"Wow, and he's going to be working at school, so I'll be able to see him. And, if he's around, and you are too, then I'll be safe, won't I? Safe as I can be, anyway. It's cool."

I smile at the simplicity of Dawn's approach to life. I suppose she has the advantage of growing up on the Hellmouth. I mean, she's spent her whole real life here, even though she has memories of before.

"You don't think it's cool." It's a statement. Dawn's expression shows she doesn't understand.

"Well, it'll be difficult. Not for you, you didn't hurt him. But, we've got a lot of things to work through before we'll be even remotely comfortable with each other again. I'm not sure we ever will be."

"I know there're some things you need to talk about, but you'll get through it. I mean, you've forgiven him for what happened upstairs, haven't you?"

"Well, not so much forgiven him, as I understand why it happened. And it was as much my fault as it was his. So, maybe not so much to forgive. We weren't doing each other any good. But, I treated him so badly. I almost destroyed him. And all he did to deserve that was to love me."

"He's forgiven you." Dawn sounds confident.

"I'm not sure…."

"Read the letter. He thinks he's to blame for what happened. He doesn't blame you. You'll get over it."

I wish I could share her confidence. I really do. She's right, the letter implies that the only one in need of forgiveness is him. My own need for forgiveness is too great to be ignored, and I know that nothing will ever be right between Spike and me until that need has been answered. I discover that the prospect of having him around and things not being ok between us is awful. To have him close and not have his friendship - that would be more than I could bear. Anya's words come back to haunt me. 'You love him,' she told me. I flinched when she said the words. I know I care about him, care deeply. But love? I didn't think so, but if I don't, why did Anya's words shake me. I mean, the bit about being a demon shook me up, but her statement that I love Spike didn't exactly leave me feeling calm and collected. It's too hard to figure out right now, so I give up and stare at the other mail for a few moments before moving to open the letter from Giles.

I read the first few lines several times before they start to make sense. Dawn's getting impatient, so she starts to read over my shoulder.

"They're coming back." Her voice shows no pleasure in the fact. "Willow and Giles. Look, she's got to stay with him. I'm glad. I don't want her back in the house, Buffy."

I'm surprised. We've talked a lot about Willow, especially just afterwards, but I just assumed she would come back here. It never occurred to me that Dawn wouldn't want that."

"Why?" I ask, genuinely mystified.

"Because she nearly killed me once, then she tried to do it again!"

"But that was just because of Tara."

"The first time wasn't. That happened because she was trying to show that Tara was wrong about her using too much magic. That was all Willow."

I realise she's right. I try to understand her point of view. "What about Spike? You're glad he's coming back, but he tried to kill me more than once."

"Yeah, Spike's different. Killing's what vampires do, but then he learned not to do it. Willow knew she was doing wrong, but it didn't stop her."

"It was only the chip, Dawn. That's what stopped Spike killing."

She looks at me with the "I don't believe I could possibly have a sister as dumb as you," look that she's perfected lately. "The chip only made him realise he didn't have to kill. If he turned up without it, he still wouldn't kill."

"You sound very sure."

"I am. He loves you, and he loves me. I think he even cared about Tara, and he always liked Anya. You don't start to get feelings like that for people you're going to eat."

I'm really not sure. I mean, she's got a point, and before he left, Spike could have killed me. I mean, the chip didn't work with me. He could have finished what he started upstairs, or at least tried to. He didn't. But what about other people? Without the chip, surely he'd go back to feeding on others. Even as I think that, I know I'm wrong. I'm spouting the world according to Xander, and I cringe inwardly when I realise it.

Dawn's still watching me. It's like she can read my thoughts, and it's making me uncomfortable. It's kinda like the way he always made me feel uncomfortable when he told me what was going on in my own head.

I pull myself together and go back to Giles' letter. They're due back in a little over a week, just after school starts. According to the letter, they're trying to get Willow back into school as soon as possible.

I'm still looking at the letter when I hear Xander coming in. I grab Spike's, stuffing it into my pocket. I still don't know what to think about Spike coming back, but I do know I don't want to hear Xander's opinion on it. Not yet.

Xander launches into a tirade of nonsense, and unusually, Dawn escapes upstairs. She's rarely as obvious as that this early in the evening, so I suppose she's going upstairs to think about things. I really wish I could do the same thing.

There's a brittleness to Xander's light-hearted behaviour. There has been since I told him I'd met Anya. I considered not mentioning it, but the last thing he needs right now is to think I'm not there for him. I don't want to think of things as a 'him or her' situation, but I suspect that's how Xander sees things. The problem is, I can see both sides. I know how hurt Anya was by Xander leaving her at the altar, and I know how upset Xander was by Anya agreeing to relinquish her humanity. I know Xander's being stupid about that, but I can hardly blame him after my actions last year, now can I? And that's ignoring the whole Spike/Anya thing. I remember how hurt I was by that. It cut me deep, and I'm surprised how sad I feel even now. But I can't love Spike, can I?

I show him the letter from Giles. He brightens noticeably as he reads, genuinely glad at the prospect of having Willow back. He seems surprised Giles hadn't told him when he last phoned, but then realises he hasn't phoned in a week. He doesn't say so, but I know he means he hasn't phoned Giles since he's known Anya's in Sunnydale. I'll certainly be glad to have Giles back, but Dawn's attitude is going to make things difficult with Willow. I push that thought to the back of my mind as something to worry about later. I go to put some dinner together, and Xander heads upstairs to finish the decorating.

It's later, and I'm patrolling. Dinner was strained, and I was really glad to escape. Dawn's vehement tones informing us that she doesn't need a babysitter might have something to do with that, and my agreement to be back early persuaded Xander to go home.

I no sooner get to the first cemetery on my route tonight when I know I'm not alone. It's the tingle that could only ever mean Spike. I look around, but don't spot him. Perhaps he thinks I can't sense him.

I come across a couple of fledglings, and dispatch them easily. I know Spike's around, but he doesn't show himself. He's obviously decided to watch from the distance. I shrug, almost glad. I'm not ready to meet him yet, even though I know it's just cowardice.

An hour later and it's been quiet, when I hear something off in the shadows. I had been close to calling it a night, but I don't like unidentified sounds. Suddenly there's a huge demon in front of me. Behind it is the remains of something I assume is human. It seems to have been largely eaten, and it takes all my experience as a Slayer to stop my stomach from heaving. I've not seen a demon like this before. It's over eight feet tall, and I don't want to guess how heavy it is. It's green and scaly, and it's got horns and claws and a tail with vicious spikes. I suspect a stake won't make much impression on it, so I go for wearing it down with kicks and punches.

I no sooner start, than I know I'm no longer alone. There's a blonde haired, dark clad figure fighting alongside me, and for once, the thought that he's getting in my way seems anything but appropriate. We fight together, between us not giving the creature time to rest between attacks.

Time goes by, and I'm getting tired. I guess the summer's been too kind to me, and I've lost some of my fitness. Spike seems to be slowing too, but the demon is still attacking at what seems like full force. It's using its assets well, and I've already got a number of nasty gashes down my arms from its claws. Spike jumps to attack, giving me a second to think, and I decide to go around its back. No sooner have I done it, than I realise it's a mistake. That huge barbed tail swings at me, faster than I'd have thought possible. I'm desperate to get out of the way, but it's just too quick. I feel several sharp, stabbing pains as the barbed tail cuts into my flesh before darkness overtakes me.

I wake up slowly, pain everywhere. I try to open my eyes, but the light level in the room is too bright, so I close them quickly. I'm vaguely aware that someone is cleaning my wounds, being so gentle, yet the pain's still too much. I give way to the urge to simply not feel that pain any more.

I don't know how much later it is when I try to open my eyes again. The pain seems less severe now, and the light seems less bright. I can just make out Dawn's face close to mine, and it breaks into a smile as I look at her. She shouts that I'm waking, and someone approaches from behind. It's Spike. I close my eyes again, unwilling to meet his, but I hear Dawn's voice.

"She's awake, Spike. She'll be ok. Now, will you let me get you cleaned up?"

I don't hear the response, it's muffled, but it must be a negative, because Dawn continues.

"Spike, she's the Slayer. She'll be fine in no time. And you can't do it yourself. Looking at the way your shirt's ripped, and judging from the amount of blood on it, you've got a bad injury to your back. I don't believe you can bandage that yourself. And your face looks like you went ten rounds with Glory. Sit down and let me clean you up."

I'm amazed at my sister. Her tone brooks no argument, and I hear Spike muttering something under his breath about a bossy chit. It almost makes me smile. I try to sit up, but think better of it when a huge wave of pain engulfs me. It's only then that I realise that my worst injury is somewhere on my front. I don't remember that. I put a hand down gingerly, but find I've been bandaged. The bandage is damp, and I lift a finger to my eyes and open them slightly. I'm obviously still bleeding. I wonder how long it is since I've been injured.

The sounds from the other side of the room indicate that Spike suspects Dawn of being none too gentle. I try to peek at them, but find it difficult to focus more than a foot away. I give up the attempt, and try to relax into the comfortable surface I find myself on.

I think I must have slept or passed out again or something, because it seems that instantly, Dawn's hovering over me, calling my name. I open my eyes again, and I'm surprised at the concern on her face. I'm the Slayer, I've been injured more times than I can count. I've got super healing, so nothing keeps me down for long.

"What's up?" I manage to ask.

"Buffy, thank goodness. You've been out for so long, I was getting scared."

"How long?" I ask.

"Three hours, I think. It was just after midnight when I started to get Spike cleaned up, and it's half past three. Spike's gone out. He said he thought he knew what you needed, and went out to get some. He didn't say what."

I try to take in this information, but find it difficult to understand. I can't do the arithmetic, but I know I've been unconscious for a long time. I'm almost worried too, but Dawn's face fades from view.

I'm dreaming. At least, I think I'm dreaming. Whatever's going on, nothing seems entirely rational, so I assume - dream. I'm in a strange room. Someone's holding me up, making me sit up, but the pain's overpowering, and I just want to lie back down. Then, someone's putting a cup to my lips. The prospect of drinking anything is unwelcome, but I get a whiff of the liquid and force my eyes open to look at it. It's red and slightly viscous and my worst fear is confirmed. It's blood. Someone's trying to force me to drink blood. There are voices, and they're encouraging me to drink. The voices are familiar, and I'm trying to work out whose voices they are so I can get them to stop trying to feed me blood.

I realise one of them is Dawn, and she's begging me to drink. She's crying, I can see her face now, and I can see that I've spilled some of the blood on her T-shirt. Or, maybe it's mine. She's begging me to just drink it, and I think, well, it's just a dream. I take a sip. It's not nearly as bad as I expected, so I take another sip. This time, it's better, almost like it's just what my body's craving, so I take a longer drink. Dawn's encouraging me, telling me to finish it, so I do, listening to her voice, telling me I'll get better soon. When the cup is drained, I flop back on my pillow, and I suspect for the first time that I'm not dreaming. The thought is lost in the need to close my eyes and forget.

When I next open my eyes, I'm at home, in my own bed. On the chair next to the bed, Dawn is sleeping. I stir, and she's awake instantly. She smiles when she sees I'm awake, and asks, "How're you feeling?"

"Not sure," I reply, honestly. I do a mental check. Pain - yes, all over, but particularly around my stomach. Nausea - a little, but nothing too serious. Confusion - lots.

"What happened?" I ask.

"You don't remember?"

"Not sure. I remember some things, but I'm not sure whether or not I was dreaming."

"Ok, well, it was Monday night and you went out to patrol. Fortunately, we'd sent Xander home early, or there would have been big trouble. You were attacked - by a Vargas demon, Spike said."

"Spike?"

"Yeah, he saved your life. Well, anyway, the Vargas knocked you out, perforated you good too, then it decided to try some Slayer meat. That's when you got the injury to your front. Spike managed to kill it while it was concentrating on eating you. He's not very clear on what he did. He took you to his flat, and called me. He got Clem to bring me to his new place, and it's really cool, you know?"

"So, what else?" I ask, trying to get her back to the point. I'm starting to think I haven't been dreaming at all.

"Well, it's Tuesday, late afternoon. You've been unconscious most of the time. Most of your injuries are already healing, but the big one, it just kept bleeding. Spike did some research - he's got this really cool laptop, and he went online to find out about Vargas demons. Anyway, it turns out their saliva's got something in it to make sure it's victims' blood doesn't clot, so they just bleed to death. It also looked like you were getting some sort of infection in the wound. Spike said he knew what might help, and went out. It took him a couple of hours to track down some blood in the middle of the night, but he brought it back, …"

I know what's coming. "And you made me drink it?"

She nods. "And it stopped the bleeding almost right away. You've still been out of it for a long time, but, a couple of hours ago, we decided you were well enough for us to bring you home. We put you in the back of Spike's car, and he carried you upstairs."

It's all too much. I know there's something very odd about what she's just said, but it's too much effort to think about it. I can feel my eyes closing again. As I do so, she adds, "I called into work for you, so they're not expecting you tomorrow. Spike went home. He thought you wouldn't want him to still be here when you woke up. I told him to stay, but he wouldn't listen. He said to call if you need anything."

I drift off to sleep, her words still filtering into my brain after I know I must already be asleep. The voice fades to silence, and everything is quiet.