Disclaimer: If wishes were horses…

A/N: Hey all! Thanks for all the lovely reviews I got for that last chapter – I was really worried about it and if possible now I love you all even more. I'm afraid to say that will not be the last of the angst in this story, but don't worry – I wont overload you, I don't want to depress myself! Sorry this took a little longer than usual – I will try to make my updates more regular in the future.

Chapter 10: Outside assistance

Buffy blinked as she woke, mildly surprised to see sunlight peeking through the drapes, yet the light held too orange a tint for it to be much past dawn, therefore it must be far too early to actually be awake yet. She moved to roll over to look at the clock. When she couldn't move as easily as she expected, it was then that she realised she had strong arms rapped around her waist and a firm body pressed against her back. She tensed for a few seconds before she arms holding her were too pale and holding her much to gently to be the ones she feared. It stood to reason therefore that the arms belonged to a certain peroxide blonde – they were far too muscular to belong to Rupert. He was a nice enough man, but he obviously didn't possess his stepsons toned physique, and there were no other men who had access to the house.

She took a few seconds to ponder why exactly she and Spike appeared to have been sleeping spooned together. She instantly dismissed the notion that he would have in someway taken advantage of her, there was no way he would do that. Suddenly it hit her like a ton of bricks. She'd had another dream, one of the bad ones this time. She felt her heart clench as she remembered the hits she had taken on her eleventh birthday. It had been the first time it had ever happened, but unfortunately it hadn't been the last. She dimly remembered Spike waking her just as she had been about to relive the second attack Liam had launched and she felt a rush of gratitude that he had pulled her from that particular nightmare. She was cloudy on what had happened afterwards but she knew she hadn't stayed awake for long but that she hadn't returned to that dreaded place in her dreams. She smiled at the thought that Spike had soothed away the horror of her subconscious with his mere presence.

She wondered if he realised just how thrilled she was that of all the people who could have rescued her or left her to drown that night that it had been he who acted as her saviour. She doubted it considering he didn't even remember her. She sighed as she closed her eyes and snuggled closer against him, smiling when his arms unconsciously tightened around her. Yawning, she allowed sleep to claim her once more –if Spike was there to chase away the monsters, she was going to make the most of it…

Spike smiled as he opened his eyes to find that his dreams and reality had merged and Buffy really was nestled fast asleep in his arms, that was until he realised exactly why he was there in the first place, and the promise he had made himself the previous night before he had drifted off to sleep. He was loath to leave, but he knew that if his mother and Rupert weren't back already they would be soon and as much as he hadn't cared the night before, he really didn't want them jumping to conclusions. With a resigned sigh he carefully extracted himself from the tiny blonde, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead before heading downstairs…and coming face to face with his mother who was looking decidedly unamused. Spike sighed once more, thinking that he had been sighing way too much for someone his age recently.

"William" Joyce began, her voice clipped, indicating she was trying very hard to keep her temper "Why exactly were you sleeping in Buffy's room last night?"

"She was having nightmares." Spike replied, deciding that honesty was by far the best policy under the circumstances "I heard her crying in the middle of the night, went to calm her down."

"And that took all night?" Joyce enquired, a sceptical eyebrow raised. She trusted her son, she really did, but she would have to be blind not to see that he was infatuated with this girl and she didn't want him throwing himself into something so quickly. She didn't kid herself that he was a naive young virgin – she'd found the rather disturbing evidence to the contrary several times when she had emptied his bin or changed his sheets, but Buffy living with them complicated things, not to mention the fact that the girl seemed to have her own problems.

"Yes it did actually!" Spike replied hotly, annoyed at his mothers presumption. "Every time I tried to let her go she'd start crying again! In the end I must have fallen asleep!"

Joyce studied him carefully. He seemed suitably indignant at the suggestion that anything had happened between the two, but she had to make sure. "And nothing else happened?" Spike glared at her in response, and while she was less than pleased with his challenging attitude she had to admit that he was certainly telling the truth – he wouldn't be so upset otherwise. "I'm just worried William." She breathed at last, all of her previous anger leaving her, "About both of you."

Spike glanced over his shoulder and back up the stairs where Buffy still slept, not turning back to Joyce as he responded. "You and me both!" Turning back to Joyce he noticed her eyebrow raised in question and gestured that they should go to the kitchen to talk rather than have a conversation in the hall. When they were seated on opposite sides of the counter Spike took a deep breath and began to explain the previous evenings events…

"She was scared to death." Spike began to tie up his tale. "I mean that was real fear in her eyes."

Joyce looked at the cup in her hands and silently wished she had something a bit stronger than coffee to drink. She was almost tempted to ask Spike if she could have some Jack Daniels from the flask he didn't know she knew about. She didn't doubt his assessment of the situation. Even if her son didn't have the uncanny ability to read people she had seen enough herself to know that he was probably right. For one thing Buffy was very jumpy, terrified by loud noises and almost obsessive about keeping quiet. The poor girl had almost been in hysterics when she had accidentally dropped a glass and broken it, despite Joyce's assurances that it wasn't a problem. Biting her bottom lip Joyce steeled herself to tell Spike something she was sure he wouldn't want to hear.

"Will," She began gently "Buffy's obviously been through a terrible ordeal, and…I think she needs some kind of professional help."

"That's what I was thinking." Spike announced, surprising his mother. She had been sure he would protest that he could handle everything himself. "I was going to make some calls today to see about a councillor or something."

Joyce smiled and shook her head, amazed at how grown up her boy had become. She tilted her head and studied the young man before her and wondered when he had stopped being her little boy. Had it been when he'd gotten into his first fight at eight, resulting in the lingering scar above his left eyebrow? Was it when he'd been expelled from school at sixteen? Or was it when he had decided to do everything in his power to help a complete stranger? He was no longer the tearaway who made trouble simply for something to do – now he only did it to prove a point! "I'll make the calls!" She told him when after a few seconds she decided that he was going to keep surprising her. "You go get cleaned up and we'll talk to Buffy when she wakes up. We can't force her to get help, she has to agree to it on her own or else it wont do her any good."

Spike nodded his understanding and stood up to leave. Watching him walk away Joyce said a quiet thank you to Buffy. Looking after the girl had certainly bought out a side in her son she wanted to see more of!

A/N: Hopefully that wasn't too crap – I'm kinda tired! Love you all. More ASAP!