"Noooooooooo!!!!" He jumped up, held back by the chains before falling back on himself. He couldn't, couldn't. Tears started falling before he could or even wanted to stop them. Someone was holding his hand, Buffy. She quickly pulled back, but she was there, there for him.

"Spike?"

"I..." Me myself and I. And another number added to a list that stretched on near endlessly.

"Another dream?"

He couldn't answer, shuddering at the notion, but yes, what else could it be?

"It's not you."

His glare was filled with disbelief. How could it not be him? Who else was there, having the dreams, doing... "It's me. I'm remembering.. and the paper. Those people are dead Slayer. Because of me... Because..." Because you didn't stake me before I could kill them.

"Spike." her voice was oddly gentle. Too soft for him. She'd never been soft on him, not until...

"You were locked up. You have been for three nights now. It wasn't you."

"It wasn't...." He didn't dare hope, didn't dare to think that... "Then why?"

She didn't know the answer either. Her hands were folded on her lap as she sat on the cot beside him. He loved her, he hated her for forgiving him, for trusting him. He stared at her, as if hypnotized as her fingers drew small circles on his leg. So beautiful.

******

So beautiful, his black goddess as she bit into him, letting him join her. They fell asleep together. Joined together. And he could feel her mind enter his as she did.

"Yes, my beautiful William."

And he fell himself sink into her, seeing the world through her eyes as she went hunting with her precious daddy. Angelus smirked at her, hitting her in front of him. And Spike couldn't stop him. Feeling his grandsire's hands as Dru had. Feeling Angelus' lips and falling into them. The bite, the bruises. And then screaming, pulling a hapless human towards them. Seeing the good samaritan's face as the poor helpless victim grabbed hold of him and snapped his neck. Feeling that glorious rush through his sire's flesh. Sharing his/her prey with Angelus. And rutting over the still warm corpse.

******

"It was me."

"Spike, didn't you hear what I just said. You can't have..."

"Not my hands or fangs Slayer. But I might as well have..." The chains rattled as he tried to get up. Damn it. "There's a bond between a vampire and his sire." He tried to stop the flow of memories; of Dru making him share his dreams, punishing him when she didn't like them. Of Angelus teaching him a lesson of what a reall kill was about. About seeing Darla and Angelus together and knowing... "When I made a vampire. When that vampire was near, I could hear their dreams, see what they were doing. Not with a minion, they're just controllable, but with a childe, one I spent enough blood on."

"And you think..."

"I never made many. You don't waste your blood that way. But there's a few... And then the First made me..." She closed her eyes. He couldn't blame her for not wanting to face him. Just thinking about the faces of those he'd damned. He sickened himself. "I killed them." And thankfully she didn't deny it.

*****

He'd caught her just after nightfall, running into her on her way home. Slightly suspicious the second she saw him, but not scared enough to run. Little brownhaired girl running. Her fear tasted on his tongue like hot milk.

She'd been so glad to see him. And he could have used that, used that trust. But it wouldn't have been half the fun, now would it?

He let her come just close enough before grabbing her. She shrieked, shocked. He yelped as she kicked his foot. her schoolbag hitting him in the face. Itty bitty Buffy. Delicious. Just fun enough to let her go for a moment. He was just in time to stop her from using her phone, beating it out of her hand and cracking it against the wall.

"Please."

*****

"Dawn!"

tbc