Chapter 27 - Darkness Falls

It wasn't my idea. This leaving the Niblet. Giles seems to have pushed it - and I'm really not sure why. So, Buffy and I are patrolling together again. We haven't spoken about it, but we both seem to have decided to stay close to the Magic Box.

We all went to see the doctor earlier. He took all the blood samples and so on that he needed. Except from Dawn. We've got to wait a bit longer before he'll risk taking a sample from her. Did a range of tests on us - reaction speed, strength and whatever. Said what he did last time wasn't enough. Included Dawn in a few, but he mainly concentrated on those of us who aren't human. Didn't say much, either, but I could tell he was excited. His heart rate increased noticeably whenever we did something that gave results off his scale.

After the visit to the doctor, we came to the Magic Box. It had closed by then, and Anya was looking flushed and happy. Surprisingly, Xander took a day off work to help out. And, the way he and Anya kept looking at each other, I wouldn't be surprised to notice a certain mingling of scents again soon. Maybe even after tonight.

Giles insisted we head out to patrol. Said he was worried about the fact that Buffy'd been patrolling alone, and that now we had a system to keep Dawn safe at the Magic Box, she didn't have to. I argued, and so did Buffy, but, somehow, we got outvoted. Still not sure how it happened. Almost suspected the witch was up to something, but there wasn't any sign.

So, we're out together. Buffy's not comfortable. But then, neither am I. I've avoided being alone with her since the kiss. Thing is, it's already too late. I'm like an addict. Before I kissed her the other night, I could persuade myself that I didn't need to touch her - that I could get by with being friends. One kiss, and everything's changed. I'm aware of everything about her. Every hitch in her breathing, every increase in heart rate - I feel them all, and they're echoed in my own body. I hardly feel I can trust myself to keep my hands off her.

Patrol is routine, nothing either of us would have had a problem with alone. Still, I'd rather go through the agony of not being able to touch her than worry about her patrolling alone. I can't help but imagine all sorts of things happening to her while I'm not there to protect her.

"Spike," Buffy starts, uncertainly. I knew something was bothering her, and it looks like I'm about to find out what. I look straight at her so she knows she has my attention.

"About the other night," she manages before I interrupt.

"It's ok, Pet," I tell her. "I won't do it again. You were just kissing me to say thanks, and I nearly took advantage of it. I won't do it again, I promise." It's a promise I'm not even sure I can keep.

"Please, don't," she whispers, and I notice she seems to be shivering slightly.

"Don't what?"

"Promise you won't do it again. It wasn't gratitude. Well, it was, but it wasn't just gratitude. I …. I love you Spike. I kissed you because I love you."

She's looking at me, desperate for some acknowledgement.

I'm shaking my head, and she's starting to look tearful.

"Don't, Buffy Love. Please don't. You've got so much on right now, it's hardly surprising you're grasping at any support you can get. But you don't have to. I'm with you anyway."

"I know that, Spike, and it's not just that."

I pause, remembering another night. "It's because of what they did to you, to us. Changing us. Making us the same. I told you once, I was the only one there for you. Remember?"

She nods.

"That's what you're thinking now. There was a time when I'd have taken anything you offered me, didn't matter why. Hell, it's exactly what I did. I took what I could get on any terms. But I can't, not now. You think you love me because you don't think a human could. But you're so wrong, Buffy. Any man in his right mind will love you. Love you because of your strength, your courage, your … soul. And that's only scratching the surface. But I can't be the consolation prize any more. I can't Buffy. I just can't. 'Cos it wouldn't last. Everything'd be fine until you meet someone else - someone who hasn't been dead for a century. Someone who could love you with a clear conscience. Someone who'd deserve you. And then, well, you know what I'm capable of, and I can't risk it." My words sound bitter, even to my own ears.

"How dare you?" she whispers. "Where do you get off telling me how I feel? I suppose I should be used to it by now. You've been telling me for long enough. Telling me I cared for you the night you chained me up and offered to kill Drusilla for me. Now you're telling me it's just because I'm confused. Because I need you to help me keep Dawn safe. Because I think so little of my new demon status that I'd settle for you because I can't do better. Well, from what Giles said the other day, looking after Dawn's only a short term job. Because there isn't going to be a Dawn soon."

Her voice was breaking as she said that last bit. I want to hold her so much. My own voice is unsteady as I reply. "We'll find something. We've still got time, Buffy."

I didn't intend to do it, but I've come closer to her, and I'm holding my arms out to her, and she's moving into them, burying her head in my shirt and sobbing.

"You're wrong, Spike," she insists when her sobs have faded. "I mean, I do need you to help me keep Dawn safe, and I am grateful for what you've done for us, but that's not the whole story. I. Love. You. And you're right. I know what you're capable of. You're capable of loving me more than anyone deserves. More than I deserve. But, I can understand if you don't love me, or don't trust me. There're good reasons why you shouldn't trust me. I know that. All I'm saying is, give me a chance to prove it's real."

"Buffy, of course I bloody love you. It's because I love you that I can't let this go wrong again. Even now, you don't know how hard it is for me to hold you like this, and not kiss you. But if I kissed you, then it would be almost impossible not to undress you, make love to you. And I can't believe that's what you really want."

I step back, purposefully, showing her I can still control myself, but it's the hardest thing I've ever done. She's just told me she loves me. It's what I've wanted to hear for so long, dreamed about hearing, but I can't listen. I can't take it at face value. Having her and losing her, that way lies madness.

We're close to my old crypt, and I'm on the verge of suggesting we should call in and see Clem - anything to add another person to the explosive combination that is us, when we feel it. Dawn's afraid. How can that be? There's been no alarm at the Magic Box, unless … unless the assailant's human.

We share a look, and see understanding mirrored between us before we start to move. We're evenly matched, neither of us with an advantage as we run. It took us a while to reach this point, but we didn't walk in a straight line. Now, we take the most direct route back, but it seems to take forever.

At last, the Magic Box is in sight, and I pull open the door, and immediately run into a barrier. It's like the barrier before a vampire is invited into someone's home. It's the protection spell Willow performed, it must be, but it's gone wrong somehow. Or, it's been changed. I can see inside perfectly. Buffy's here, and she's hit the barrier too. We squeeze together in the doorway, and we see Giles and Anya, and Willow and Dawn. Somehow, Giles and Anya have been immobilised, they're still, but their eyes show their anguish. Willow's different. Like something from a nightmare. She's dark, her hair, and her eyes. The darkness has taken her again, and she's holding Dawn, her arms around her.

Dawn's eyes are begging me to do something, anything. I look at her, and feel a failure all over again. Willow's eyes glitter with malevolence, and I feel my heart constrict. She utters some words, aiming them at Dawn, but there's no result. Willow's face contorts, frustration etching her face, and she repeats her actions.

Somehow, I wrench my eyes away from Dawn to Giles. His expression has changed. It's looking hopeful, and I realise there's something else going on. Willow howls in frustration, growling at Giles. "What have you done?"

I don't know whether or not Giles can answer in his current state, but she doesn't wait.

"There's more than one way to do it," she threatens, and puts her hands around Dawn's neck, using her body to do what her magic will not. She screams in frustration as her hands refuse to do her will. That surprises me, until I see a wavering in her hair, and realise that the red is trying to shine through. Whatever's taken over Willow is having to fight to do it. She could have killed Dawn with magic, but something stopped her. Using her own hands to do it, though, seems to have reawakened her humanity, her … soul?

With strength which must be magically enhanced, she lifts Dawn over her shoulder, and with a glance at the door, heads for the basement.

This is my chance. Our chance. I know the tunnels better than any demon in Sunnydale, and a hell of a lot better than any human. I grab Buffy's arm, and run for the nearest man hole. There's no time for discussion, Dawn's fear which dissipated a bit when the spell didn't work, is growing again.

Once underground, I pause, getting the direction clear in my head before we start to run.

Ordinarily, there's no way a human could outrun Buffy and me. But, Willow's no ordinary human right now. All we can hope to do is follow.

I'm leading, trusting my sense of Dawn's direction better than Buffy does hers, but it's obvious that she's improving all the time. She nods beside me as I turn right at a junction, agreeing that I've made the right choice.

It's times like these that I'd give a lot to be a vampire again. It's all very well, but only creatures that don't need oxygen can run at the limit of their ability without becoming breathless. And, apart from the short respite outside the Magic Box, that's what Buffy and I have been doing for half an hour now.

The tunnel we're in now is a long one, with no intersections for a couple of miles, so I'm giving some thought to where we are. Fortunately, I've got a good sense of direction, and it's not fooled by being underground. I think that last bit's a vampire thing. I realise we're heading south, away from the centre of Sunnydale, and the University. The more I think, I realise there's not actually much in that direction at all. It's just suburban streets that fade into woodland.

I'm wracking my brains to think of where we could be heading. The tunnel opens out in the woods, just south of the last homes. Once outside, I pull Buffy to a halt beside me, and we're both breathing heavily. We've got to be careful now. Following Dawn through tunnels is one thing. There's only a limited number of directions after all. Now we're in open ground, there's much more opportunity to be fooled.

I point to my right, and Buffy nods her agreement. We set off again, slower now, needing to avoid tree roots which mar the narrow passageways between the trees.

This is part of Sunnydale that's new to me. I don't know it at all. Never had much time for woodland when I was a vamp. If I ever fancied being in touch with nature, I'd pick the ocean every time.

I realise we must have made ground, because the feeling of Dawn is closer, and when I take a deep breath I can smell her too. I put an arm out to Buffy to slow her further, and I know she's noticed it too. We walk, and spot a small cottage ahead. Well, cottage is too grand a word. Shed? Bigger. There's a rainwater butt outside, and a picnic blanket airing under the eaves. It has an air of domesticity and innocence. I know Dawn's inside, and I leave Buffy in front of the door that's visible at the front while I circle round to see if there's another exit. We're in luck, there's only one door, and all but one of the windows are on that side too.

I'm just gesturing to Buffy to suggest we try the door, when there's a scream, and a roar from inside the house, followed by the unmistakable glow of flames from within.

I run forward, and yank the door open. I barely register anything about the interior beyond the line of fire that's separating me from Dawn. Somehow, whether by magical or mundane methods, Willow's set fire to a line right across the cabin. She's let Dawn go now, and she's looking strangely triumphant, and peaceful? Dawn's crying, sobbing, tears rolling down her cheeks. Buffy was beside me as I opened the door, but she's gone now, and I sense rather than see her at the single window beyond the flames. The smoke's thick already, and I'm having to work at not coughing.

Willow has turned around, ignoring me, her attention fully on Buffy. She's holding Dawn again, threatening that if Buffy comes through the window, she'll push Dawn into the flames. I sense Buffy's hopelessness, and I try desperately to think of something to do.

I run outside again, and pull the blanket down. I dip it in the water butt, soaking it, before wrapping it around me. Without giving it further thought, I jump through the wall of flame, landing and rolling on the other side to extinguish the flames that lick at the blanket. One of my hands was holding the blanket in place, and was outside of its protection, and I notice the burns on it with curious detachment. I don't even feel the pain.

Willow lets Dawn go, pushing her in the direction of the fire, but I dive to stop her momentum, and push her towards the window. With a howl of fury, Willow jumps at me, kicking and punching. There's no method to her fighting, it's like a child having a tantrum, lashing out without discipline, just trying to cause pain. Normally, I could hold Willow at arm's length easily, but not today. Whatever she's done to herself, she's a match for me in strength. Fortunately, she's not a match for me in fighting skills. She's never taken the time to learn, always relying on her magic to keep her safe.

I hear glass breaking, and wonder whether it's a side-effect of the fire, or if it's Buffy. I don't have time to look, as I duck to avoid being hit around the head. I knock Willow away, and use the second's respite to glance at Dawn, relieved to find her being helped through the window.

Willow grabs me again, but I don't think I need as much oxygen as she does, because the smoke's bothering me less that it is her. She's coughing hard, convulsively, and she's changing before my eyes. She's paling, her hair returning to its normal red, and it's obvious she's weakening.

Willow's sobbing now too. One word, repeated over and over. Tara. I realise she's no longer trying to hurt me, just trying to get away, so I let her go, and she runs to the far side of the room, where she picks up something from a bed I hadn't noticed. She's hugging it, whatever it is, and then I realise what she's planning. She's walking directly towards the wall of flame that's now too close to me, it's heat painful, singeing my hair and eyebrows.

She's already alight when I catch her, pulling her back, and rolling us in the discarded blanket to extinguish the flames. I carry her over to the window, handing her to a waiting Buffy before I manage to drag myself through. I collapse outside, unsure where my girls are, willing them to be safe, but knowing there's no more I can do.