I've been asked by a couple of readers to email them when I update. I' plan to do it on the basis of a single list, and I'll send out a note whenever I update one of my current stories. If you're interested in being on the list, email me at cryptic6464@yahoo.co.uk .

This story is now being posted at Buffy/Spike Central, and I'll aim to update there immediately I've updated at FF.Net. (I have had problems with that site timing out on me, so it may not work as I plan.) On BSC, I'm using the pen name Josephine, because I haven't been able to get the system there to take a longer name.

Many thanks to all of you have left reviews or emailed me with comments. It makes all the typing seem worthwhile!

Chapter 11 - A Visit and a Visitor

I waken slowly. I'm in pain, but it's bearable. I pull myself up to a sitting position and note that I'm in my own bed. I shake my head a little. I expected to be somewhere else, I think. Not sure.

I throw my legs over the side of the bed, and manage to stand up. I note with some surprise that I'm wearing a T-shirt. Royal blue. I know for a fact that I don't own one like it. If it were black, I'd think it was Spike's.

Slowly it's coming back to me. He was there, when I was attacked. That part was real. I flit through my other recent memories, trying to work out if they were real or not.

He was there. Or at least, I was there. I mean, not here. Spike was looking after me. Dawn was there too. Dawn. I wonder where she is. I get up and go to the door.

She must have been close by, because by the time I open the door, she's there. She looks pleased, then the smile disappears as she tells me to get back to bed.

"You shouldn't be up yet."

"Ok," I agree, realising I'm too tired to argue. "I'll go back to bed on one condition. You've got to tell me what happened. I seem to remember some things that don't make sense."

She agrees, and I climb back into bed. Dawn fusses, plumping up some pillows to put behind me, then sits down.

"Start with what day it is," I tell her.

"Ok, it's Wednesday," she replies, matter of factly.

"And, I got injured on …. "

"Monday."

She continues with the basics, and I vaguely remember her telling me much of this before. She gets to the point where Spike carried me to his car.

"Wait a minute," I ask. "It must have been daylight then. How could Spike carry me to his car?"

"Don't know. He said he's different, but there wasn't time to tell me the whole thing. He promised to tell me later."

"Is he human?" I ask, my breath almost stopping. I dread the answer. After what Anya told me, that I'm a demon, the possibility that he's human is just too much. It's almost exactly what I deserve after what I did, what I said to him.

"He said he wasn't. He didn't say what he was, though. Again with the promise of later. And, we were both so worried about you that later seemed good."

"And he fed me blood."

"Yeah. Believe me, it was, well, eugh. But, you were so ill. I've never known you to have a fever, and you were so hot. We both thought you were going to die, then he said you needed something, and brought some blood."

"I remember. I thought it was a dream, or I'd never have drunk it. Was it just blood or did he put anything in it?"

"Just blood, I think. We were so scared, I don't think there was time to think about adding anything. Why?"

"Just, it didn't taste too bad. Somehow, it seemed ok. Like the way it feels when you're tired and you overdose on sugar, you know?"

She nodded and I try to think some more.

"So, it was, what, yesterday when I came back here. What happened then?"

"Well, Xander came round. He was really not pleased when I told him that Spike had saved you. Then Spike called, to see how you were doing, and Xander heard me talking to him. And he got mad, and I got madder. He left, and hasn't been back."

"What about Spike? Has he been back?"

"No," she replied, and her face made it obvious that she was surprised. "He hasn't called, either."

"Was he ok? I mean, was he injured?"

"He was pretty badly cut up, but it seemed to be healing."

The same thought hits us both at the same time. Dawn is the one who speaks. "What if he got some of that demon saliva on him, but it didn't react right away?"

I pull myself out of bed, and start to get dressed. This time, Dawn doesn't argue.

"Go and see if you can get us a cab," I tell her. There's a number by the phone. Do you know the address?"

"I can do better than that," she replies. "I'll call Clem. He promised to help if he could, and he's got transport."

Fifteen minutes later, we're on our way. I can hardly believe how quickly Clem arrived. It was like he was waiting for our call. He stops outside, but doesn't want to come in.

"You're his friend," I remind him. "More of a friend than I've ever been."

He shakes his head. "He won't want me around if you're there."

"Dawn's coming in too," I remind him. "And, if there's something wrong, we might need you."

Somehow, this does the trick. He nods, and we approach the door. Knocking gets no response, so I try the door. It's unlocked, and I walk in cautiously. Dawn looks at me worriedly as I flinch, and I throw her a reassuring smile. I've been the Slayer long enough to know there's nothing wrong with me a couple of days won't completely cure.

We haven't gone very far in when we see it. Blood. I start at the sight of it, and Dawn says, "It could be yours, you were bleeding a lot."

I can tell she's trying to reassure herself. We follow the bloodstains to a room down the hallway. I'm in the lead, with Dawn behind me, and a very nervous Clem at the back. I look at the bed, and there he is. He opens his eyes, and immediately closes them. I see his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.

"Niblet, what've you brought her here for? She should be in bed."

I've reached the bed now, and I can see he's been bandaged. The bandage is dry, so I know it's not still bleeding. Dawn reaches the bed, and takes a look.

"What happened?" she demands. "You didn't have anything there. Who did that?"

She's pointing to the bandages on his chest, just over his heart. My breath catches in my throat as I realise. Someone tried to stake him. Dawn comes to the same conclusion, and goes a stage further.

"It was Xander, wasn't it? He tried to stake you. But how did he know where to find you?"

Spike's eyes open again, and I can see the pain in them.

"Anything we can do?" I ask.

He pulls himself up, wincing a little, but with remarkable ease considering the way he looks.

"I'll be fine," he tells me. He looks away, he can't meet my eyes. I know just how he feels.

"Look, Buffy,…" he starts. His eyes are sparkling, and I see they're filling up. It's only then I realise mine are too.

"Don't say it," I tell him. "We'll talk, but not today. When we're both …. Better. It was Xander, wasn't it? I don't know how I know, but I do."

He knows that I know, so he doesn't deny it. "He had every right. Stupid git just didn't finish it. When I didn't turn into dust, he lost it. Ran scared. Even bandaged me up. I hurt you…."

I don't let him finish. It seems like I've been here before. Looking at his bruised and bloody face, I remember another time so clearly. That night in the alley. The night I took out all my fears on him. Hitting him while he just absorbed everything I gave him. I left him there, not caring whether he was able to get to shelter before sunrise. A definite low point in my life. I remember another time. In so many ways, a happier time. I close the remaining distance between us, and plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Even his reaction is the same as that first kiss that wasn't magically induced. There's none of the recent Spike here. He'd have turned the kiss from innocence to passion in a moment. This Spike just takes it, and the look on his face as I step back is just like the other time I remember. After Glory. His face just looks astonished. Awe-struck.

I turn to Clem. "I think I'm upsetting him, and he doesn't need that. We've both got new jobs starting in a few days, and we've got a lot of healing to do. Can you make sure he's ok? That he's got what he needs? If there's anything we can do, just ask."

Clem agrees, as I knew he would. I turn back to Spike.

"We'll talk, Spike, if you want to. As soon as you're better, or whenever you want. I'll …. I'll understand if you don't want to. I mean, … I'm sorry too."

I take Dawn's arm in mine, and we leave. We're going to have to walk or get a cab home, but I don't care. He doesn't need me around right now. I'm the last person he needs, and it hurts to realise that. He's not just hurting physically, there's so much more than that, and I know it's my fault. I wish I could just put it right, but I know I can't. It'll take time, and it'll only happen if he lets me in. I'm not sure he ever will, not now.

I consider calling Xander when we get back, but I'm just too tired. And I'm not sure what I can say to him anyway. I'm angry. I know he thought he was doing the right thing, but he's so blind where Spike's concerned, there's no way I could change his mind.

I head back to bed instead, dreading Xander's arrival later. I need sleep, peaceful sleep.

Fat chance. Hours later, and all I've managed are fitful dozes. Every time I close my eyes, I see him, see that look on his face. He's broken, and I did it. I'm angry with Xander for trying to kill him, but what I did was so much worse. I ruined him from the inside out. I took away everything he was, told him it was worthless. Whatever's happened to him, whatever's changed, it hasn't healed the damage I did. I doubt anything could.

Dawn comes up a while later, bringing some soup for me. She's trying so hard. I suspect she's actually enjoying this stint of being in charge, of looking after me. I sit up carefully, and sip the soup slowly. It's tomato flavour, and it looks eerily familiar. I find the idea that it could be blood remarkably un-repulsive. I put that down to simple hunger.

"Xander's late," Dawn tells me.

"Is he?" I ask, checking the clock. She's right. He's normally here by now. I must have slept in the end, it's later than I thought.

"Maybe I should call him," I think aloud.

"No," Dawn is adamant. "Let him stew a while. He'll be so much easier to terrify if he's been thinking about a run in with a Slayer for a day or two."

I smile at Dawn's summation of Xander's character. I wonder at the changes I've seen in her relationship with him. It's almost like she's outgrown him. I consider my sister for a few moments, and realise that's the most likely reason. Suddenly, in comparison to the young woman sitting beside me, Xander seems impossibly immature.

The doorbell rings, and Dawn jumps up.

"Talk of the devil," she quips, "Still, at least he knows he's not welcome enough to just walk in."

She goes downstairs. I'm almost sorry for Xander. I know what it's like being on the receiving end of Dawn's abrasive temper. And she's mad at him. She's been holding it in for my sake, but she's mad.

I'm surprised when I don't hear shouting. Next I hear footsteps approaching, and Dawn pokes her head around the door.

"Feel up to a visitor?"

She must see the expression on my face, so she adds, "No, it's not Xander, it's Anya."

Oh. Another person I need to apologise to. Not that I'm going to apologise to Xander, the other person is Spike. I nod towards Dawn, and she stands back to let Anya come in.

"Dawn said you were injured. I'm thinking it must've been a bad one to have you staying in bed."

"Moderately bad," I reply. "Anya, I'm…"

"Shhhh," she replies. "I scared you and you ran. It's rather complimentary after all. Not many demons get the chance to say they scared the Slayer."

I can feel myself flush with embarrassment. Graciousness isn't something I connect with Anya. She sits down beside the bed, and starts to talk. "I heard something about a Vargas. Asked around the demon community, and heard you'd been hurt. I also heard the Vargas is dead, and I came to congratulate you. I've never heard of one of those actually being killed. I mean, they die young, only live a few months. They're fascinating really. They hatch out of these huge eggs, grow quickly, mate and die of old age within six months. Not popular with the other demons, either. I mean, they're not fussy what sort of flesh they feed on. Anything that moves is fine by them. So, you've gained yourself a few points in the demon world. You'd earn even more if you were sure there wasn't a brood due to hatch soon."

Her words had come so fast, that I haven't had time to interrupt. While she pauses for breath, I take my chance.

"I didn't kill it."

She looks at me in surprise. "Then who?"

"Spike."

Wow, her turn to be surprised. "I thought, …" she starts.

"What?"

"It must have been wrong. I heard something, a rumour. It said Spike went to try and get a soul. He did it, too. He passed the trials, but when the soul was put into his body, he went 'poof', you know, turned all dusty. It was the talk of the demon bars for a day or two. I mean, demons who go looking for souls are rare. Those who actually pass the trials, they're, well, once every few years. There's never been a case like this. Except, it's obviously not true. Demon equivalent of the urban legend, I suppose. Are you sure you've seen Spike? I mean, the fever cause by a Vargas bite is bound to make you delirious."

"Dawn saw him too," I managed to squeeze in. I want to ask more questions, but she doesn't give me a chance.

"Oh, good. Well, I think it's good. I mean, …"

She stops, and I hope she's realising I was trying to speak.

"Wait, Anya. Stop. You said Spike went to get a soul?"

"Yeah. I didn't tell you before, because I thought he was gone, and I didn't see the point in upsetting you unnecessarily."

She carries on prattling, but I don't hear. I can't make sense of most of what she's told me, but that one fact has got me in a stranglehold. Spike went to get a soul. After everything he told me about Angel, how he hated what the soul did to him, how he was so broody, how he, Spike would never allow something like that to be done to him, he actually went to try to get a soul.

"Why?" I ask, and Anya stops her constant talking to register what I said.

"Why what?"

"Why did he want to get a soul?"

She looks like she's been taking lessons from Dawn. It's almost a perfect copy of her 'How stupid can you get?' look.

"Because he loves you. Because you couldn't love an evil, soulless demon. Because you could love Angel with his soul, even though without it, he couldn't care for you. Because he wants you to love him."

She's right, I know she is. I know he loved me, but to do that, to risk his life for the chance to make me love him, it's so stupid. And so Spike. He doesn't do anything half-measure. Anya is watching me, and I'd swear she could see the realisation hitting me.

"So, have you seen Xander?" The question sounds like it's been forced into the wrong conversation. I realise that it's the reason she's here. I mean, I'm sure she wanted to see how I was and all that, but, deep down, she wants to know about Xander.

"The day I got hurt, and the next day," I answer truthfully. At the thought of him, I remember what he tried to do. "He tried to dust Spike when he heard he was back. Dawn and he had a fight about Spike being here, and he left."

Anya's face paled at this news. "And?"

"Well, Spike's not a vampire any more. The wound bled, and it left him weak, but he's still with us. Clem's looking after him."

"Did you hurt him?"

Anya's face flickers as she says this, almost as if the vengeance demon part of her is trying to take over. I realise she still loves Xander. Despite everything he said, everything he's done, she loves him.

"No, I haven't seen him. I only found out about it earlier today, and Dawn and I went over."

"It's just, I wanted to see him. I went by his flat, but he wasn't there. He's not at work, he's not home, I thought he might be here."

"Would be, normally. He never came today. I assume he doesn't want to face me over what he did to Spike."

"Ok," she replies. "Look, if you hear from him, let me know? Please."

She hands me a card with her phone number on it.

"I don't know," I tell her. "I'm not sure Xander'd want to see you."

"Please," she almost begs, and I nod my head reluctantly.

"I've gotta go," she tells me, getting up from the bed. "I'll keep in touch."

With that, she disappeared in a minor flash of light. Teleportation's a really useful skill, I decide. And it must save a fortune in gas.