Disclaimer: The usual, I don't own these characters because they don't belong to me blah blah blah... :x

AN: Thanks for the great reviews. I know the scene with Buffy and the monk is not as it happened in the show, but this was Dawn's dream representation of it. Please R&R, I want to know how I'm doing. ^^

"Spike!"

Willow advanced towards him, hair flying behind her. Looking very much like the powerful sorceress she was, "Spike, get away from her."

Spike did a double take and his jaw clenched. From beside her Xander broke out into a run for Dawn. Spike grabbed his wrist and shoved him back forcefully causing Xander to stumble into a tree.

Xander glared and righted himself, "You're not the only one worried, dead boy."

"Xander, Spike. Now isn't the time," Willow said kneeling beside Dawn and checking her vital signs. Spike could hear the edge of annoyance in her voice. She almost sounded like Buffy did, when the world was weighing her down.

"She seems all right, her heart rate is just a bit abnormal though." Willow reached down for the girl but Spike caught her arm.

"Not on your life Red," he replied before gently scooping up the unconscious young girl in his arms.

Spike marched silently toward the Summers' house with a tired Willow and an angry Xander at his heals.

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"Y-You must protect the Key."

"Okay, protect the Key. We'll do it together, far far away from here," Buffy started to pull the monk along with her, half dragging him.

"No. The Key...millions have died, millions more if...you don't protect the Key," he replied collapsing onto the floor.

"We'll protect the key!" Buffy insisted supporting him the best she could. "Just not here, we need to get you to someplace safe."

The monk shook his head, "For thousands of years the Key...was protected by my brethren...until...until the abomination...found us," he coughed and started to breathe heavily. Buffy patted his back awkwardly, "We needed to keep the Key safe. So...so we made it into flesh...sent it to you...we knew you would protect her."

"Dawn," it was more of a statement than a question.

His expression pleaded her to understand, "You must protect her."

Buffy's voice was distressed and frenzied, "Bu-But she's not even real! You..." her face grew harsh, "You put that...thing in my house!"

Buffy paused. "Our memories, my moms and mi-"

"We built them."

Buffy anger erupted, "Well then unbuild them! This is my life..." She cut herself off at the powerless look on the dying man's face.

"What is she?" she asked in a tired faint voice. The voice of weariness--of having the world on her exhausted shoulders.

"Human. Human now. And helpless."

"She's not my sister."

The monk looked her straight in the eye, "She doesn't know that."

Her eyes were bright and opened wide. Haunted by her inconceivable visions. Tears were about to spill down her flushed cheeks. Dawn hastily wiped them away with her comforter.

Dawn tensed and pulled the covers closer to her body. She was in her bedroom. How she got there in the first place she didn't even know. The last thing she remembered was...Spike.

Her glance roamed around the darkness, searching for something. Anything. It finally landed on the figure sitting against the door's dark corner. He was hunched over staring at her intently with those blazing blue eyes. Dawn looked away.

His eyes held so much. Confusion. Grief. Truth. She knew he watched her often, usually just lurking in the shadows. He would sometimes try to help, but she wouldn't allow him to. But other times she would just sit with him, talk with him and watch the television with him. Trying to unsuccessfully forget about her grief--even if it was just for a moment.

She would watched back sometimes. Mostly when he was busy sleeping. Occasionally she would spend the night at the crypt because she felt safe there. She felt safe in his presence. When she told him that once. He blew it off and said that she should feel terrified but inside, secretly, he was grinning.

This was the first time, however that she'd ever seen him look so...vulnerable. Even in sleep, when he looked innocent and not at all like the vampire he was, he didn't look defenseless. Rather he often looked quite troubled. Of course, she never asked, knowing quite well that he'd just brush away the question and change the subject. He was like that.

Deep inside she knew, even when he was weak, he wouldn't show it to anyone. He would keep it inside, as if nothing was wrong. It was a way of showing that he was invincible. But Dawn knew better, nobody was invincible. Not even Buffy.

When Buffy had died, she could see the grief in his actions and words, but never in his eyes. They were always guarded, heavily. Not like it was now. Wide and opened, waiting for someone to prey on it. She could feel his gaze burn right through her.

She refused to look at him.

Still he didn't take his eyes off of her. "Is there something the matter luv?" Voice barely above a whisper of discomfort.

"Ye' should tell the darkness. Ye' should accept the help. Then shall ye'll be healin'."

Dawn's mouth slammed shut at the sound of the voice. Her eyes darted behind her, in front of her, and anywhere her eyes could reach. "Can't you leave me alone?" she demanded in a haunted whisper, not much aware that Spike was also in the room with her anymore.

"Nibblet?"

Frantically she twisted and turned in her bed, trying to find the source.

"I thought ye' had accepted I now?"

"No! No I haven't! I don't know who...what you are!"

Worried, Spike was beside her in a flash, gripping her shoulders, staring intently into her eyes. "Dawn, listen to me. Look at me."

The voice chuckled, "Ye' doesn't remem'r? Or is it that ye' doesn't want to remem'r?"

"NO!" Dawn's eyes were busy looking for an escape, her mind running over the routes in her head. She wanted to get away from the voice. She squirmed in Spike's grip all the while screeching, "I don't want to remember! It hurts!! It hurts!!"

"Memories ain't s'pose to hurt, lit'l one. I'm only here to help ye."

Dawn curled up into a ball, fingers gripping her head. "I don't want to remember...They hurt...I don't want to remember...Never remember, they hurt..." her words came out in a mumble.

Spike stood back and blinked as she glowed again. This time with a lot more intensive power then the last. He didn't notice it but the green glow surrounded his form too. He himself clutched his own head as Dawn and the room disappeared and the smell of Buffy overwhelmed his senses.

He couldn't figure out why he was standing in Buffy's old room, looking at her empty bed. He shook his head, pushing away his massive headache. This wasn't right. Where was the hell was the Nibblet? He could've sworn that he was in her room, and not Buffy's.

"What the hell are you doing in my room, Spike?"

He spun around, and there she was, Buffy was standing at the doorway. Hands on her hips and her mouth in a sneer.

He choked. "Buffy??"