He carried the axe with him on his back when he left Rupert's to head for the cemetery on the following night. He knew he wouldn't need it, but he had to make Nibblet think that he had come to protect Joyce's grave. Dawn was smart enough to notice if he didn't have a weapon, and would be sure to ask questions later.
Sure enough, just as he had done before, he found Dawn kneeling by the fresh grave. The teen looked small and broken, and she was fighting back tears as she read from the book she had stolen from the Magic Box. He saw her collect some dirt from the grave, swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped up.
"I hope it's just dirt you're after," he said grimly, making Dawn gasp and reel to face him.
"If the spell calls for anything more than that, you're into Zombie territory."
"Spike! I wasn't…" she tried, desperate.
"I know good and well what you're up to. That book you're holding is infamous."
The look on her face almost broke him- almost. But he knew too well how badly resurrection spells could go, Buffy's resurrection not withstanding, and he choked every time he thought of Joyce coming back as a mindless zombie.
"Please. Don't tell Buffy. I can't… I… I just have to get her back. I have to," Dawn pleaded.
"Dawn," he said softly, lowering himself to kneel next to her. "I miss your mum. She was good and decent and I liked her a lot. And because I liked her and looked to her as I would my own mum, I can't let you go through with this spell."
"But I need her. Buffy… she's always so busy, and I'm nothing but a burden to her… and with Glory looking for the Key…"
The tears started rolling down Dawn's cheeks and he reached over to brush them away with his thumb.
"Dawn, Buffy loves you very much. It's just that Slayers have a hard time with the softer emotions coz their lives are so hard."
"But, I need my mom," the teen sobbed. "I have to get her back. Willow said… she showed me…"
"Did Wills give you this book?" he asked, trying to hide the anger in his voice.
Dawn recoiled a little bit. "N…no, but she showed me another book, one that she and Tara have, that talked about this one."
"So you nicked it from the Magic Box," he prodded.
She looked ashamed and nodded. "Yes. And the spell ingredients." She looked at him, begging. "It says I can bring Mom back. The spell says it raises the dead."
"Yeah, and the dead don't take too kindly to it. Trust me, Bit, your mum deserves to rest in peace. There's no tellin' what you'll get if you do that spell. Joyce could come back half rotten and without a mind," he cautioned seriously.
"But the spell…"
"Black Mojo like that is wonky, Bit, an' it never turns out the way you think it will," he said. "Believe me, Dawn, if I thought we could bring Joyce back and be guaranteed that she'd have all her pieces and parts in all the right places and 'er mind intact, I'd dig 'er up for you." He reached for her, seeking to hold her. "But there are no guarantees. What if you brought back somethin' that looked like your mum that either me or Buffy would have to kill?"
"I would never do that!" Dawn insisted, horrified.
Spike shook his head. "No guarantees, Sweet Bit. One wrong word, one mispronunciation, one spell component misplaced and you could have a monster on your hands. You want that?"
"No. But…" she tried.
He glanced at the book. "You read Latin?"
Dawn followed his line of sight. "No, but I have a translation…"
"Uh huh and Latin never has words that sound like each other and the spell couldn't possibly be mistranslated," he said, giving her an incredulous eye.
She grew angry and struck him in the chest with her small fist. He barely felt the blow.
"What do you care! You're a soulless vampire! You can't feel emotions and grief!"
"Singin' Big Sis's song, are we now?" he growled angrily.
"I need my mother back!"
"And I'm sayin' what comes back won't be your mum!"
"I don't care!"
"Yes, you do," he countered, stung and hurt by her words. "You think I don't feel pain? You think I don't miss your mum? Who was it that brought 'er chocolates and looked in on 'er? Who was it that watched telly and talked about Passions? I loved your mum. She was kind and good and took care of me even though I'm a demon. She never treated me like a freak. I…"
He stopped, wiping away the tears that came unbidden to his eyes. "I loved Joyce like my own mum. I loved her, I did. And I'd have saved 'er if I could've." He hardened and turned to Dawn, grim-faced. "But Joyce is dead, and nothin' we do is gonna change that, and she'd want me to honor her memory by makin' sure the daughters she loved stay alive. And that includes stoppin' you from makin' a huge mistake."
Gritting his teeth, he reached over and grabbed her wrist, holding it firm but not tightly enough to hurt her. Then he stood, hauling her to her feet with him as she struggled.
"No!" she yelled, punching at him with her free hand.
He shook his head. "No axe for you tonight, Sweet Bit, and I won't let you kick me in the jewels again. I'm takin' you home to Buffy."
"No! You can't! I won't go!" she cried, digging in her heels as he tried to pull her away from the fresh grave.
"Don't have much say in it, Bit. Vampire strength here."
"I'll scream. I swear I will," she threatened.
"And bring every vamp and nasty within hearing distance down on us. Buffy's home, Bit. I took patrol for her tonight," he told her, walking forward.
She stumbled and almost fell. He caught her around the waist, holding her up, but ready to defend himself if it proved to be a ruse. She leaned limply against him, crying.
"You don't understand. I need her, Spike! I need... She… Who… who'll take care of me…"
Her broken sobs cut him to the quick and he wrapped his arms around her.
"I will, Bit. You've got me. You've still got me. You'll always have me."
"But she understood… she…"
He stroked her hair and hugged her close. "I know, Bit. I know."
She broke down completely then and collapsed in his arms, weeping uncontrollably. He held her, letting his own tears roll down his cheeks and fall into her hair.
"Spike?" a new voice said hesitantly, and he turned his head to see Willow and Tara standing there. He fixed the redhead with an angry glare, but said nothing.
"Is everything all right?" Willow asked worriedly, and not a little guiltily.
Behind her, Tara saw the book and spell components and gasped, hurrying forward.
"No worries, Glinda. She didn't get too far with it."
Tara quickly gathered up the book and stolen items while Willow looked helplessly on.
"Bit tells me you put the bug in her ear," he said evenly, letting some of his ire creep into his voice.
"Me? N… no. Not really. I wasn't… I didn't mean to…" the witch stammered, flushing.
"Willow thought the book she showed Dawn was just a history book. She didn't know that it referred to specific spells and grimores," Tara explained.
Spike raised an eyebrow at Tara and he knew that she saw that he was unconvinced, but neither was willing to further the discussion.
"Dawn," Tara said, addressing the teen who was huddled in Spike's arms.
"Save it, Glinda. I already read her the riot act. Now I just want to get 'er home to Big Sis."
"Oh, we can do that…" Willow offered, but stopped when Dawn recoiled further into Spike's embrace.
"I think Nibblet wants Big Bad to take her home. I can better protect her when Buffy throws her fit when she finds out what Little Sis was up to."
"You're sure she didn't get far with the spell?" Tara questioned.
Spike shook his head. "I'm sure. She was just gettin' the grave dirt when I arrived."
Tara's mouth thinned into a grim line, but she gave a wordless nod. "You get her home, Spike. We'll do… clean up here."
Spike nodded back and lifted Dawn into his arms. She didn't protest and tucked her face into the lapel of his duster.
"Thank you, Spike," Tara said seriously as he moved to carry Dawn home. "I'll… I'll see you tomorrow."
He gave a small nod to acknowledge that he had heard her then slowly walked off. They didn't speak as he carried her from the cemetery to her home on Revello. There was nothing really that could be said. Each carried their grief like a heavy shroud that wrapped around them and suffocated words in their throats. Dawn kept one small hand curled into the leather of his coat, her head resting lightly against his shoulder as he walked, taking her ever closer to her fate.
He knocked lightly on the front door of the Summers' home, dark and silent as a tomb, and immediately heard running footsteps hurrying to answer. The door flew open to reveal a disheveled Buffy, still in her rumpled clothes.
"Dawn!" she cried, seeing her sister in the vampire's arms. "Oh my god! Where have you been? What did you do?"
"Now, now, Slayer, lay off a bit. Nibblet's fine. Found 'er by your mum's grave, but she's all right now. All safe and sound," he said, stepping inside.
"You went to the cemetery? At night? Dawn, are you crazy?"
Dawn gave Spike a frightened look, then realized that he wasn't going to tell Buffy about the spell.
"I… I went there to… to try to bring Mom back," she admitted, knowing that if Spike didn't tell Buffy, Tara and Willow surely would.
"You what?" Buffy demanded.
Spike sighed, both surprised and proud that Dawn had come clean with her sister. Dawn struggled in his embrace to he set her down gently on her feet.
"I found her gatherin' grave dirt for a spell. Stopped 'er before it got too far."
Buffy stared, shocked and horrified. "Dawn. How could you? How…?"
"To get her back, okay? I wanted her back," Dawn replied, her earlier anger returning full force.
"Dawn!
"You have no idea what you were messing with! Who knows what you could have actually raised – what might have come through that door!" Buffy scolded. "Tara told me those spells go bad all the time. People come back *wrong.*"
"But I need her. I don't care if she's… I'm not like you, Buffy, I don't have anybody!" Dawn yelled back, tears spilling over.
"What? Of course you do. You have me," Buffy gasped, shocked.
"I don't! You won't even look at me! It's so obvious you don't want me around!" Dawn insisted.
"That's - that's not true," Buffy stammered, casting Spike a glance.
He shook his head grimly. He wasn't going to get involved here. Buffy and Dawn needed to have this out. Buffy needed to see how much her sister needed her.
"It is! And the way you've been acting! Mom *died* and it's like you don't even care!"
Buffy's eyed widened with horror and pain.
"God - of course I care. Of course I do. How can you think that?"
"How can I not? You haven't even cried! You've just been running around like it's all been some big chore - cleaning up after mom's mess…" Dawn seethed.
Buffy, still appalled by Dawn's accusation, lost her temper and slapped Dawn across the face. Even as Spike took a step forward, his face concerned, Buffy's hand flew to her mouth and she stared at her sister.
Both girls were shaking and Buffy began to unravel, her careful control beginning to fray at the edges as her anguish began to emerge, and she started to cry.
"I've been working - I've been busy, because I have to… be…" Buffy choked, tears running down her face.
"You don't. You're avoiding me."
"I'm *not.* I have to do these things, 'cause… 'cause when I stop, then she's really…gone. And I'm trying, really trying to take care of things… But I don't even know what I'm doing… Mom, she always knew…"
"Nobody's asking you to be Mom," Dawn insisted.
"Well, who's going to be if I'm not? Huh, Dawn? Have you thought about that? Who's going to make things better? Who's going to take care of us?"
Buffy wept openly, desperately as Dawn and Spike watched, helpless, as Buffy fell apart. Seeing her there, small and looking more childlike than he'd ever seen her, Spike fought to keep his own tears at bay. Dawn wasn't so lucky.
"Buffy…" she sobbed, reaching for her sister.
"I didn't mean to push you away… I didn't… I just didn't want you to see me… I mean… Oh, God… What are we going to do, Dawny? I'm just so scared…"
The sisters embraced, crying, the weight of their bodies dragging them to the floor in a tangled heap as they clung to each other. Unable to bear the sight of his two girls in such pain, and still feeling the terrible guilt of his failure, Spike staggered out, leaving the front door open. He could still hear their heart wrenching sobs long after he had stumbled away from the house and he collapsed against a tree, his own sobs ripping their way out of his throat like razorblades.
'I promise. I promise you, Joyce. I'll save your daughters. I'll keep them safe, even if I have to die doing it. I lost you, Joyce. I won't lose Buffy too. I failed you. I won't fail again. Never again.'
For once, the demon and the soul were in complete accord.