CRADLE

Disclaimer, etc. as on first chapter.

A/N: Right. I spent a joyous car journey today coming up with the supremely angsty penultimate scene/chapter for this and now I can't wait to write it :D so enough with the filler chapters ;) Let's get onto the plot… And about that penultimate chapter – the B/Sers will love me. Or hate me. I'm not entirely sure which, but as Spike said in Chapter 11, "there's a fine line between love and hate" ;) Anyhoo, enjoy…

Cradle

Chapter Thirteen

Two weeks later…

The days that followed Spike's return were reasonably uneventful, at least by Sunnydale standards. Immediately after Buffy had explained everything to her friends at breakfast, Dawn had headed off to see him at his crypt. He seemed pleased to see her; this wasn't a patch on how pleased she was to see him, now that her initial shock had worn off. They'd both been ridiculously overemotional – first, Dawn had hugged him tightly enough to suffocate him if he'd needed to breathe, then she'd followed it up immediately afterwards by slapping him hard.

"Oi, Nibblet," he'd said, rubbing his cheek where she'd hit him. "What was that for?"

"Buffy," she'd said simply, and he'd understood. It seemed that everyone knew; Dawn, however, had forgiven him now that she knew he'd got a soul, and she'd held onto him tightly again to prove it. She didn't let go until after he'd finished explaining about Africa for what felt like the fifteenth time since his return. She'd promised to see him again – every day, in fact – and left the crypt feeling much better about Spike, and far less confused about how she felt about him.

Spike knew that Dawn would support him to the end. She didn't give her affection away lightly, and to regain her trust – or, in fact, to keep it – was an achievement in itself. He wanted Buffy to be his sole anchor through the impending Hell he was going to face, but until such time as that became a reality, or even remotely plausible, he'd just have to muddle through with Dawn. He couldn't gain Buffy's love - which was what he needed, even in the smallest dose – but Dawn's would see him through to some degree. It was far easier to be dependable than it was to be dependent.

Buffy, even though she had given Dawn strict orders to only see Spike at the crypt and not invite him to the house (mainly for his own safety while Xander was still there), still found herself half-wanting him to appear at the kitchen door. Finding the tree outside her room devoid of any occupants, despite hearing noises from within the branches, was surprisingly disappointing. She refused to force herself to see him, because the fear in his eyes terrified her, and because she knew he thought she was the one to help him. In her heart, she also knew he was right, but thinking about it brought back memories of Angel. Spike being in the same situation had secretly always been something she'd dreaded. The 'evil, soulless thing' excuse wasn't going to cut it any more.

Patrol-wise, there had been surprisingly – and worryingly – few vamps around the town. In fact, since the near-apocalypse, she'd seen maybe six in total. There were barely even any random demons to fight. Buffy should have been glad of this fact, but her Slayer senses were telling her something was up, and if it was scaring off the demon population, it could only be a really, really Big Bad. Spike would have been able to tell her what was going on… but that would entail unnecessary conversation, which would then lead inevitably to a barrel-load of angst that she couldn't deal with. For this reason, she stayed wondering until such time as whatever it was decided to manifest itself as something she could fight.

Willow was steadily recovering with Xander's help, and, to the latter's relief, was now confiding more in Giles than before. Tara's untimely death, she had almost recovered from, but the guilt of everything she'd done was still haunting her, and fighting the residual Magic dwelling inside her was becoming increasingly more difficult. Twice they'd had to sedate her before she hurt herself or anyone else; her eyes would completely glaze over with the familiar blackness, and her finger tips would glow or spark, sometimes to such a degree that it would interfere with the house's electrics. The Magic controlled her body while her mind struggled to regain control, leaving her shaking from the effort and unable to move hours later.

None of them liked to admit it, but her recovery was going in two directions at once. As her mind became stronger and her will to fight the Magic increased, it doubled its efforts to take her over. It was an entity in and of itself, existing separate from her and using her as some kind of host, thus resulting in her body becoming increasingly weak as the days went on. Willow wanted nothing more than to rid herself of it for good, and the only way to do that seemed to be to use it, and thus, her resolve began to weaken. It was a terrible, vicious circle, and it was very slowly killing her.

Giles, with the help of Anya, had consulted every one of his books and all those they'd managed to rescue from the Magic Box, in an attempt to find out how to help her. The coven that had leant him the magic he'd used to defeat her had offered suggestions, including, as a last resort, several purging spells, but nothing had worked. They'd even tried to think of how to word a wish in such a way that Anya could grant it as an act of justice, but it was impossible.

On top of this, he was also getting worried about Buffy again. Prior to Spike's return, and after her heartfelt talk with him about everything, she seemed to have sorted most things out in her mind. Now, with the additional bonus of Spike's new soul, she was just as confused as before, and, although she wouldn't admit to it, more worried about him than when she hadn't known where he was.

Xander, while still looking after Willow, was attempting a slow reconciliation with Anya, at her rather humble request. It was going to take a very long time. Xander couldn't help but think that if a certain blond vampire wasn't around, it would take a Hell of a lot less time. He trusted Anya – admittedly not as much as before – but he definitely didn't trust Spike. He was waiting for a time to come when he'd be alone in a room with just him and a stake so he could end the madness once and for all. As far as he was concerned, everything was Spike's fault. He'd probably be doing him a favour, too.

In quiet moments, he would sit by the sleeping form of Willow after one of her inner wrestling matches with the Magic, and let silent tears flow freely, knowing it would be disastrous if she found him like it, but unable to stop. His pride, at being her choice of the one to help her, was slowly turning into a desperate feeling of complete helplessness as her condition worsened. If she tried to be happy for the others, it was even more horrible, because he got the inevitable crash later on. He could only watch as both of his best friends collapsed, one physically, and the other emotionally.

Anya had been overseeing the rebuilding of her shop, unaware of Xander's inner torment, but trying to be everybody's rock in their time of need. She'd worked through her demons – she hated that phrase, but was becoming used to using it – and was beginning to feel like the only sane, stable member of the group, with Dawn coming a close second when she wasn't having a teen-tantrum.

So far, she'd had to reassure Buffy that, from what she knew about shaman demons, Spike's soul came with no nasty clauses, curses, or strings attached, other than the obvious one of however many days of torment he'd have to go through before his brain learnt to cope with having a conscience. And, since he'd already had to get used to having a chip, she assumed it would be fairly quick and relatively painless. Then she'd had to convince Dawn that he was all right, honest, but he'd be a little quiet and subdued for a while. When Giles was reaching breaking point with Willow and Buffy, she'd had to take over his research while he got much-needed rest. Finally, she'd had to distract Xander enough that he wouldn't worry quite so constantly about Willow.

In such a way, the lives of the Scoobies continued, problem-filled, but with just enough friendship and loving support between them to keep everyone going from day to day. And, on an average, post-apocalyptic, stressful day on the Hell mouth, Buffy was patrolling, not because she thought there'd be an army of vamps to dust, but because she simply needed to go for a walk. For the past week, luckily, she'd not encountered Spike, either, because he hadn't left his crypt for days. She'd spotted Clem with an armful of bloodbags at one point, glad that Spike had at least found a kind and concerned friend, no matter how badly he cheated at kitten poker…

On this particular night, a night she'd wanted to be eventless, something happened. Typical. There was a rustling some distance behind her, followed by a few random yelps, and then pounding footsteps as something – or someone – ran for its life. She spun around just in time to be knocked flying by the oncoming vampire, who was clearly terrified for his life, and they both ended up in a dazed heap on the ground. She ignored her automatic instinct to stake him on the spot, and instead pinned him down, the stake aimed at his heart but not piercing it just yet.

"Slayer…" he began, predictably, baring his fangs.

"Oh, please," she said, "like that's the most original line ever…" The vamp growled in what he supposed was a menacing way and she rolled her eyes, moving the stake closer. "Shut up."

"You're gonna pay for this, Slayer!" he told her, unconvincingly. "I'll-"

She punched him neatly in the nose. "I said, shut up." He obeyed this time. "Don't get me wrong; I am going to kill you, but first I want information. Got that?" The vamp nodded, eyeing the stake nervously. "Good. Now, I've noticed a severe and frankly disturbing lack of undead activity lately and, while I should probably be glad of the time I'm getting off, I can't help but wonder what's going on."

"So? What's that gotta do with me?"

"Let's see," she said, mock-ponderingly. "You're the first vamp I've seen in… let's think… a week. In a week, I've normally dusted about a dozen of your kind and massacred a couple of demons on the side. So when nothing happens, I worry. And then, when I see you running for your unlife, I start to think maybe whatever's scaring you guys off is too close to my life for comfort, and then I worry more." Punctuating her next command with a sharp prod of the stake, she said, "Talk."

The vamp, clearly a college kid who'd made the idiotic mistake of walking alone after dark on the Hellmouth, stared at her dumbly for several seconds, attempting to form her overlong wording into something he could understand. It seemed these days that no matter how smart they were as humans, the turning made them morons. Back when Angel and Spike had been turned, sires obviously knew what they were doing, and it was a talent that must have gotten lost down the lines somewhere. Finally, the lightbulb came on and the vamp explained. "Oh, right. That. Well, it was pretty big. I couldn't see what it was, but… yeah, it was big."

"Big evil? Big good? Big run-like-hell? What?" asked Buffy.

"The first one. And kinda the last one…"

"Big run-like-hell?"

"No; 'what'. Ain't never seen anything like it before."

"Well. That was a big help," she said, smiling sweetly. "Before I kill you, how's about you take a wild guess as to what it could be, hm?"

"Uh…"

Before the vamp dug himself into an early grave, a familiar voice from behind Buffy said, "Let 'im up, pet. He doesn't know what it is."

She froze at his voice momentarily, mainly because he'd succeeded in sneaking up on her unnoticed, then frowned and let the fledgling to his feet. Two seconds later, she whipped around and staked him anyway. As he crumbled, she said, "What? You never said not to kill him…" Spike said nothing, which worried her; normally there'd have been some kind of sarcastic remark by now. Then she remembered that there wouldn't be, not for a long while, and was almost regretful of it. Shaking off the feeling, she pocketed her stake again and took a step towards him, cautiously. "It's probably a wild shot, but do you know what it is?"

He shook his head. "'Fraid not. But I do know it's bloody huge and very pissed off, and currently on the outskirts of town. I sent Clem to find out more."

"Have you seen it, whatever it is?"

"No, just seen the results." When she raised a questioning eyebrow, again, there was no sarcastic comment. She'd been at least expecting some jibe about her delicate stomach coping with it, but… nothing. "It's got all the vamps scared out of their wits, that much I do know. The only two I managed to get any information out of – that is, the only two who could still speak – told me that they'd seen this thing rip the skin clean off one of their biting buddies."

"Nice…" she noted, something niggling at the back of her mind that this was familiar. "Well, I'll let Giles know. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's in some book somewhere."

"Yeah." The conversation ended surprisingly amicably and silence immediately descended, filling the foot between them like a chasm. Spike was watching her, waiting for her to move, just like he always had… but it was different. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time, or was re-evaluating her, remembering her for future reference.

Buffy watched him watching her, wondering what was so fascinating. After a few seconds, his eyes locked with hers for the briefest of moments, and then he tore his gaze away to look at the floor. In that split-second, Buffy saw the pain there again and found herself struggling to swallow a lump in her throat. Knowing she was going to regret it, she took another step closer, and said, "Spike… are… are you okay?"

He looked up again, a little confused by her concern. She wondered when exactly he'd started questioning her sincerity; then again, it was inevitable, and he'd had a lot of time alone to think about things. "Great," he said. "Just fine."

"How are the, uh, the scars holding out?"

"Nearly healed. Still smart a bit."

This was all wrong. It was too formal, too awkward. His spark had gone. "When was the last time you saw Dawn?"

He thought about it. "'Bout two days ago, I reckon. Nibblet seemed a bit worried about Red."

"That'd be about right; we all are…"

"She's not doing so well?"

"She's… I don't know… but I get the impression she's gonna get worse before she gets better."

Spike nodded sympathetically. "Well, tell her I said 'hey'. And that I hope she works through it."

Buffy, a little surprised by this side of him, nodded her consent. She suspected he'd never really fallen out with Willow, and Willow herself had no personal problems with him. They seemed to have a silent, unspoken friendship.

The silence, and Spike's somewhat distant expression, finally got too much for her, and she began to head past him. Something was still bugging her, however. "Spike, why did you come out here?"

"Was lookin' for you, of course."

"Oh. Of course…"

Quietly, he added, "Took me three days to pluck up the courage, mind you…"

Buffy stopped where she was, next to him, but facing the opposite direction, and looked up at him. "That bad, huh?"

Her light-hearted comment seemed to have a minor effect on him, as he smiled slightly. "Yeah. You were right – about hating myself for that pathetic performance the other night. You'll be glad to know that was a one-off…"

She swallowed. "It's… it's okay. I get it. I do… Believe me, I know about inexplicable crying…" Without changing position, she very cautiously put her palm to his and linked their fingers, squeezing his hand reassuringly. She felt his entire body tense with the action, but he didn't speak, just looked down to face her. "I'm… I'm really sorry you can't come to see Dawn, but… everything's kinda messy there right now. And Xander's still mad. You… you know he'd kill you if he saw you."

"If I didn't know any better," he said, "I'd think you were protecting me, Slayer…" A glimmer of the old Spike shone through suddenly, as if released by her touch. He didn't wait for her to reply, merely squeezed her hand back. "You'd better get back and find out what this Big Evil is…"

"Yeah…" They simultaneously released each other's hands. Casually, as she walked off, she said, "See ya, Spike…"

He turned to watch her leave until she vanished into the night, and the rising mist. With three tiny words she'd managed to give him huge hope, and, although he was well aware that he looked like an idiot, he couldn't help but smile as he headed back to his crypt.

Buffy stormed into her house and banged the door open, shocking Giles and Anya as they sat around her coffee table perusing books. The breeze she'd caused blew the book her ex-Watcher was working on ahead several pages, thus making him lose his place. Anya scurried in pursuit of some loose pages that had drifted to the floor, while Buffy gave an apologetic look and closed the front door quietly. Dawn entered the lounge from the kitchen, having heard the noise.

"Uh… come in, Buff…" she said, sarcastically.

Her sister ignored her and addressed Giles. "We got a problem."

"What sort of problem?" he sighed.

"That's what I need you to find out for me." Giles gestured for her to calm down and explain, indicating for her to sit. "Sorry… Okay. So, you may or may not have noticed that lately there's been very little cause for my Slaying powers. Well, it turns out there's some big… thing on the edge of town that's scaring the demon community."

"A big thing?" asked Anya. "What sort of thing? Demon?"

"I don't know." Slightly reluctantly, she admitted, "I ran into Spike-"

"You did?" interrupted Dawn. "That's so great; he's been so nervous about leaving the crypt. How'd it go?"

"I-it was fine, Dawn… a little awkward, but… fine. Anyway, as I was saying – I ran into him at the cemetery and he told me that, from what he's heard, this thing is huge and annoyed, which is never a good combination in my book."

Giles closed the book he'd been sifting through and sought out a different one, adjusting his glasses on his nose before opening it. "How long has it been around, do you know?"

She shook her head. "Well… not specifically. But it's been quiet around here for ages, since… since saving the world again. I didn't think much of that at first, but now you come to mention it… yeah, there's been barely anything since then."

Giles nodded thoughtfully, turning to a section on post-apocalyptic demon behaviour. "Did, uh, did Spike tell you anything else?"

"Not really… just that Clem's looking into it. Oh, and that a couple of vamps saw it skin their friends alive…" she trailed off, the same thought as before niggling at the back of her mind. Then, the light came on and she looked at Anya. "Skinned alive… Warren…" she whispered.

"Warren's dead, Buffy," clarified Dawn. "It can't be him."

"No, I know that…" she said, absently, willing Anya to understand what she was getting at. "But… Anya, don't you remember what happened to him?"

She rolled her eyes; it was a stupid question. "Of course I do. He was-" She stopped, her eyes growing wide. "Oh…"

Buffy nodded, knowing that she'd got it, and cast her eyes towards the stairs. "Oh, my God…"

"What?" asked Dawn and Giles simultaneously.

"Dawn, go upstairs and tell Xander and Willow to come down here…" said Buffy. Her sister nodded, a little curiously, but obliged nonetheless, heading upstairs.

"Buffy, what on Earth is going on?"

"I'll tell you in a minute, Giles," she promised. "Anya."

"Yes?"

"Could it be possible? Could this be… what I think it is?"

She thought for a while. "It's… I've never seen it happen, but… yes… it's entirely possible."

Buffy closed her eyes painfully; she'd been hoping her hunch was way off the mark. She opened them again when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Dawn came first, her expression now worried as to what the Hell was going on, and behind her came Xander, carrying Willow. The redhead's physical condition had worsened considerably; she was now unable to walk more than a few steps before her legs gave up, and she'd lost far too much weight. Her originally slim build was now painfully skinny. Her mind, luckily, was as sharp as ever, when she wasn't temporarily incapacitated in a battle against the Magic.

Giles moved up on the couch so Xander could sit Willow down, and everybody positioned themselves to be able to hear Buffy.

"Wh-what's goin' on?" asked Willow. "Dawn said it sounded serious."

"It is. At least, I think it might be…" said Buffy. "As I was just telling Giles, there's a new Big Bad hovering near Sunnydale, and until about a minute ago I had no idea what it could be… but now…" She sighed and looked apologetically at her friend. "Will, I'm really sorry about this, but I'm going to have to ask you about… the Magic… Are you going to be okay if I do?"

She nodded, weakly. "I… I think so…"

"Good. Just say if it gets too much and I'll avoid it." Willow nodded again. "Okay. So far, all we know is that this thing is really big, and really irritated, and that it skinned two vamps. I have a theory; Anya agrees with me on this. Will?" She crouched near her and kept her voice low. "When you were filled with the Magic, do you remember…" She swallowed nervously. "Do you remember what you did to Warren?"

The flinch Willow gave implied all too clearly that she did. Xander almost answered for her, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand, wanting to do this herself. "Y-yeah… I… I…"

"It's okay. So long as you remember. Anya, fill Giles in…" The justice demon leant nearer and whispered it to him; his expression reflected his shock – he'd known that she'd killed Warren, but until now didn't know exactly how. Now, it seemed he'd come to the same conclusion as Buffy. "Okay, Will… now, when Xander managed to pull you out of your… trance, most of the Magic left you, right?" She nodded. "And we know that some of it's still in you." She nodded again. "And it's powerful."

"It's m-more than powerful, Buffy," she admitted. "It's… it's alive, like… like a parasite… It's bent on d-destruction." Xander placed a supportive hand on her shoulder.

"That's what I was afraid of…" Buffy shook her head defeatedly. "All right; last question. The Magic that left you – where did it go?"

"I… I don't know… I mean, I w-wasn't really thinking about it, b-but I assumed it just… found its way back into the books…"

Anya spoke up. "The books are still blank… I found them in the debris of the Magic Box and the pages are still empty."

Buffy stood again and addressed the whole group. "So. The books are blank. The Magic left Willow, but we don't know where it went. There's something out there skinning vamps. Anyone else seeing the connection here?"

"Good Lord…" muttered Giles. "In all my years as a Watcher, researching such things, I've never known of this to occur…"

"But can it?" pushed Buffy. "Could that thing be a whole lotta Dark Magic?"

"It… it is possible," he clarified. "A-and considering that it also contains the borrowed magic of the coven, it's more than just the Dark Magic from the textbooks…"

"Great…" she murmured. Dawn looked worried.

"It… it won't hurt Clem, will it?" She looked expectantly at Giles, then at Buffy, the latter of whom wrapped an arm around her sister.

"I really don't know, Dawn. Knowing how much of a coward Clem is, he won't get close enough for us to find out."

"What about Spike? Is he gonna be safe?"

Before Buffy could answer, Xander interrupted. "Enough with the theories. How do we get rid of it?"

Instinctively, all eyes went to Willow, except for Giles, who started thumbing through another book. She wished, for the first time in a long while, that Tara was there. Willow had a powerful witch, but Tara contained the knowledge that would have been their only hope in this situation. She fought back tears as she answered. "I don't know…"

Giles finally found something promising. "I think I might have found the answer… but I need some time to translate this."

"Good," said Buffy. "You and Anya get onto it. Willow, I want you having nothing to do with this – the further you are from this Magic, the better; Xander, you stay with her and if I need you, I'll let you know."

He gave her a mock salute. "Yes, General Buffy."

"Dawn…" Seeing that her sister was now deeply worried for Spike's safety, she realised she needed a distraction. "You… you help Giles, too." Dawn beamed - she loved helping – and sat herself on the floor by the coffee table, ready for action. "I will go back to the cemetery and tell Spike what's up."

"Why does he have to be in on this?" asked Xander, bitterly.

"Because, for starters, he gave me the heads-up on it. Secondly, he might be useful. Thirdly, I'm not leaving him out of the loop; he doesn't deserve that." With finality in her tone, she finished: "If we're going to destroy this thing, your battle is with it, not Spike. Save your energy."

With that, she turned and left in much the same manner as she'd arrived, leaving everyone slightly bewildered. It just went to prove that, even if you managed to save the world, something would inevitably come along to try and destroy it again…

To be continued…

Well, there you go… isn't it exciting? If it's completely implausible, fell free to tell me and I'll think of something else… Anyhoo, next chapter will be… um… possibly some Willow angst, or possibly the revelation of how to kill the Magic, or possibly some minor S/B… or maybe all three ;) We'll see how it goes. Review, please!