Spike dragged his weary body back downstairs. He felt exhausted and sore, and he desperately wanted to sleep, but there were so many things he needed to do. First on his list was to check on Dawn, make sure she ate and slept. Then he'd figure out what to do next.
The door to the girls' room was closed, so Spike put his face to the glass insert, trying to see in without awakening the occupants. Everyone was fast asleep and the remains of several breakfast trays were piled on a table. Each of the girls was curled up in a hospital bed, while Xander sprawled, snoring, in a visitor's chair, still holding tight to Anya's hand.
Spike heaved a sigh of relief. The Little Bit was well taken care of, and perfectly safe. He felt his vigilance relaxing, leaving him even more exhausted. He plodded over to Giles' room, but didn't bother to check if the Watcher was asleep, simply pushing open the door and dropping into the chair at his bedside.
Giles startled when the door opened, turning away from his contemplation of the world outside his window to watch the vampire drag his obviously tired body to the chair. Giles examined Spike as the blond stared at the floor, elbows on knees and his chin in his hands. Giles felt very uncomfortable in the presence of the vampire, but was surprised to find his discomfort didn't seem to stem from fear. He prodded at the feeling, trying to define it, only to be pulled away from his naval-gazing by the sound of Spike's voice.
"Everybody else is asleep. Dawn curled up in the empty bed, so the only person who's stuck sleeping in a chair is Xander. I'm so exhausted I could sleep through an apocalypse, but there's too much to do. I just can't think of any of it right now."
Giles had never heard Spike speak without the cocky, sarcastic tone. He said as much to Spike.
"Too damn tired to be sarcastic. Just tell me what to do and when I get to sleep."
Giles searched his mind for what needed to be done. Before he could come up with anything, Spike spoke again.
"I'd like to be able to tell 'bit what's going to happen to her until Buffy wakes up."
Finally Giles knew what Spike had to do. "Buffy always kept a will, a bunch of letters, stuff like that in her room. Hopefully they'll be able to tell us what to do next. Head over to the house and get them. Um, can you get in?"
"Yeah, Buffy invited me in again last night. Would the papers be in her desk, or did she have somewhere special for them?"
"I don't honestly know. She told me she had them, not where they were kept. I assume that means they are in an obvious location."
"Okay, I'll get them and bring them here."
"You're exhausted Spike. Just take a look at them, get the gist, and then take a rest. Come back tonight. None of us will be awake enough to figure out what to do until after we've slept anyway."
Spike looked at Giles in surprise. It really seemed like the Watcher trusted him, at least with this. Then again, maybe Rupert was too tired to really think about what he was saying, judging by the yawns and heavy eyes. It didn't matter to Spike. He had a reason to go to Buffy's and look through her stuff, without fear of getting caught. Too bad he was too tired to take advantage.
After a quick journey through the sewers from the hospital to the exit nearest Buffy's place and a quick, smoky dash though the sunlight, Spike found himself on the Slayer's porch. He was about to kick in the door when he remembered that a few weeks before, Buffy showed him where she kept a spare key. Sheepishly, he pulled it from its hiding spot under a false newel post in the porch.
He opened the door and stood in the entry for a moment. The house still smelled of Buffy and Dawn, and for a moment, he expected them to come out of the kitchen to greet him; Dawn with hesitant, shy smiles and Buffy with scowls and bitter comments. With a sigh, Spike shook himself out of his dream and headed up the stairs to Buffy's room.
The room was bright due to the two windows, but all of the light was soft, diffuse and indirect, allowing Spike to move freely without closing the curtains. He looked around appraisingly. 'Logical places first,' he thought, heading for the plain white desk.
An hour later, Spike was frustrated. He'd searched all of the obvious places – her desk, her dresser (taking special time in her underwear drawer), under her mattress, where he'd found her diary, but no letters. There was only one place left to look – the hope chest/weapons chest at the foot of the bed. As soon as he opened it, he knew it was hopeless. The chest was well organized, with a few frilly, girly things one corner, and the rest filled with well-maintained and organized weapons. He closed the chest and sat on the lid, utterly exhausted and baffled.
Rolling his head from shoulder to shoulder, a spot of bright red caught his eye. Slowly, he stood up and moved towards the bit of lace caught in the closed closet door. Something Dawn said earlier came back to him: 'I used to go into Buffy's closet when she was out. She had a hiding spot under the floorboards where she put her slaying supplies, and any clothes that got wrecked.'
Spike opened the door, and sure enough, in the back corner, there was a floorboard slightly raised from the rest. Spike gently pulled it up and reached in, feeling the crinkle of paper.
'Must remember to thank the Little Bit,' he grinned, pulling out two large brown envelopes. He sat on the bed and examined the packages in his hands. The envelopes were nondescript, plain with a tied down flap. They looked a little worn around the edges, as if someone had handled them regularly. One was quite thick and lumpy. It was marked Letters in Buffy's handwriting. The other was thinner and flatter, marked Legal.
Spike really wanted to know what was in the thick envelope. Was there a letter for him? He scoffed at that thought. Why would Buffy leave him a letter in the event of her death? She hardly cared about him when she was alive, why would she take the time to write him a letter? Regretfully, he laid the envelope on the bed.
Unwrapping the string holding the Legal envelope closed, he pulled out a sheaf of papers. The top paper was titled "Living Will" and Spike suppressed a shudder, mentally thanking the powers that be that Buffy wasn't on life support. He slipped that paper back into the envelope, turning to the next. This one was marked "Power of Attorney". With a quick glance, Spike saw all he needed. In the case of Buffy's incapacitation, Rupert Giles was designated to take care of all assets and any minor children in Buffy's care. This document was dated two days after Joyce's death. Spike put that paper back in the envelope as well, then gasped as he saw the title of the next paper. "Last Will and Testament of Buffy Anne Summers". The words seemed to swell, taking up all of his field of vision. Finally regaining control of himself, Spike scanned the three page document. It was also dated two days after Joyce's death, and said basically the same as the Power of Attorney – Giles to take care of Dawn and to take control of the money until Dawn was of age. In addition, there were several sentimental objects left to different people. There was jewellery for Dawn, Willow, Tara, and Anya, DVD's for Xander, a statue for Giles, and a leather jacket for Angel. Spike's eyes swam with tears at the final item. No matter what, Angel seemed to have a hold on Buffy's heart that no man or vampire could ever loosen. Spike laid the will down with the other papers and dashed away the tears. It didn't matter what Buffy left Angel in her will. Angel wasn't here, and Spike was. He got to see her, smell her, just be near her, and that was something Angel must yearn for.
Spike hastily pushed all of the legal papers back into the envelope. He picked up both envelopes and set them on the bedside table. He was exhausted, and lay back on Buffy's bed. Giles told him to get some rest, but he didn't specify where. Might as well take advantage of this opportunity, burying his face in the Buffy-scented pillow. He was asleep in mere moments.
Hours later, Spike awoke. It was still twenty minutes before sunset. He stretched in Buffy's bed, luxuriating in the softness and scent. As he stretched, his arm bumped the bedside table and the envelopes fell to the floor. He bent down to retrieve them and again found his attention on the thick envelope labelled Letters. He sat for a moment, the envelope in his lap. Did he really want to know whom she considered important enough to write a letter to? Did he really want to see a thick letter for Angel and find nothing for himself? About to set the envelope down, he suddenly changed his mind. He had to know what was in there. When he got back to the hospital, Giles was going to open the envelope, and if he reacted with pain, Xander would never let him live it down. Pulling the string away, he turned the envelope over and dumped its contents on the bed. There were several white envelopes inside, each labelled for a specific recipient and sealed shut. He turned them over slowly; here was one for Willow and Tara, a thick one for Dawn, a really thick one for Giles, one for Xander and Anya, and, of course, one for Angel. He felt a stab of pain. He gathered the envelopes up to put them back in the larger envelope. As he started to shove them in, however, he heard a crinkling sound. It was higher pitched than the sound of the envelope. He looked inside, and there was a single piece of paper not inside it's own envelope. He pulled it out with some trepidation. It was probably just a letter to everyone, but he looked at it anyway. When he saw his name at the top, he thought his heart would start.
Dear Spike,
Today you endured unimaginable pain, but you still kept Dawn safe. I can't pretend to love you for that, or even understand you, but I do thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I'll always thank you for protecting Dawn.
I know you say you love me, and today, maybe I believe you a little bit. I don't know if we'll ever be friends, but I do trust you with my most precious possession: my sister. If anything happens to me, help them take care of her. They'll need all the help they can get. Please look after all of them, even Xander. You are the strongest person I know, and not just physically. They are going to need you to keep them in reality, to take the really hard blows, all the stuff I used to do. I know you can do it, and I know you will. For Dawn, and for me.
Buffy
By the time he reached the end, the paper was soggy with his tears. He read it over and over again, pledging his love and protection every time. Finally, he carefully folded it and put it in the inside pocket of his duster. He gathered the smaller envelopes and put them back in the large brown envelope. Setting them aside, he took a moment to make the bed and ensure that his search hadn't disturbed the Slayer's room. On his way out the door, he stopped to wash his face and erase the evidence of tears.
Dark had fully fallen by the time he left the Summers' home, so he hurried down gloomy streets to the hospital. Once inside the well-lighted public building, he made a slight detour to steal a bag of blood for supper. Rested and fed, he hurried upstairs to Giles' room.
Giles was getting impatient, waiting for Spike. Xander had been over a couple of times since he woke up to see if Giles wanted to join the rest of them in the other room, but Giles turned him down. Giles wanted to see Buffy's papers before everyone else. He needed to seem like he knew what was going on. He was understandably sharp when Spike finally arrived.
"Finally! I hope you have a good excuse for your tardiness, Spike."
"Yeah. I couldn't be bothered getting here any sooner," Spike snorted contemptuously.
"Obviously you got some rest. Your irritating personality is back." Giles snatched the envelopes Spike silently held out.
"The upshot is that you are supposed to look after Dawn and the money stuff." Spike offered.
"I'll read the documents myself, thank you Spike."
"I don't know if you want..." Spike was cut off by Giles' gasp when he saw the documents.
"I should have realized," Giles mumbled, as he looked at the Living Will. "At least she's breathing on her own. I don't know if I could, no matter what she wanted."
"I think the Power of Attorney is the only one that applies right now," Spike said.
"What else is in here?" Giles ignore Spike, pulling out the will. He looked at it for an instant, and then dropped it like it burned him. "Yes, I think you are correct, Spike. I'll leave these other papers in here. No one needs to see these, they aren't relevant to this situation." Giles hurriedly stuffed the Living Will and the Last Will and Testament back in the Legal envelope and put it in a drawer, then wiped his eyes.
"What's in this other envelope? I assume you looked at it as well," Giles asked, hesitating now to open the envelope.
"It's filled with envelopes for everyone. I didn't read anything, they are all sealed," Spike said. "I don't know if you should give them to everyone. She probably meant them for you if she died."
"Perhaps if I read mine, I'll know whether I should give them to people," Giles mused, already reaching for the string holding it shut.
"Uh, in that case, I'll step out for a smoke. You'll want privacy, I'm sure."
Surprised by Spike's consideration, Giles sent him a grateful look. "Thank you Spike. I think I'll be done in about five minutes, if you want to come back and go over the other room with me."
"You might need more time than that. Watcher," Spike mumbled under his breath as he left the room.
Giles sat for a moment with the envelope in his lap. His name was written boldly across the front and it was thick and heavy. Finally he picked it up and opened it with shaking hands. He pulled out several handwritten pages. He sighed. Her writing was ridiculously large. If she wrote like a sensible person, she probably would have only needed a single page. He started reading.
Dear Giles,
If you are reading this, something really bad happened to me. Maybe I'm dead, or maybe I just got so sentimental I felt that you needed to see this letter; either way, sorry about that.
These may seem melodramatic, the letters after I'm gone. It's like something from a movie. The fact is, I've always known that I could get killed suddenly, and I really didn't want to leave anything unsaid, or any bad feelings behind. So I wrote these letters for you, for Willow, and for Xander. I used to have letters for Mom and Dad, but Mom's gone and I can't be bothered with a father who can't be bothered with me. As you can tell by the dates, I rewrote all of the letters after Mom died. Somehow, I had a lot more to say after going through that.
I know you, so business first. By now, you probably know I want you to look after Dawnie and the house and stuff. Sorry about that too. But really, you were the only person who was right. I needed someone I could rely on. Dawn needs a real parent, and you are the only one who fits that bill. After all, you already did a great job with me. I'll warn you now: Dad might try to fight you for her once he hears I'm gone. Please do everything in your power to keep her. I know Sunnydale isn't exactly the greatest place in the world to grow up, but I have a feeling that she belongs here, with the Scooby Gang. If Dad does get custody, it's okay. I understand. Dad can be pretty determined to get his own way. Just try and keep in touch with her, and let her know that you are there for her.
If you raise her, make sure she knows I love her. And make sure she goes to school. She seems to have problems with that. I know she's not a slayer, but make sure she knows how to defend herself.
I'm sure Willow and Xander will be around to help too. You should know, I asked Spike to stick close and look after all of you. He loves Dawn, and he's proven himself to me. I don't know if you'll ever like him, but at least he can help with the demons and the crazy teenager I'm sticking you with.
Now that the business is out of the way, I need you to know that I love you. You are like a father to me. You make me do what's right, what's best. I didn't always want to do what you said, but I always knew you had my best interests at heart. That's what a father is, and that's what I want for Dawn if I can't be there.
Please don't worry about me. Just live your life and be happy. Or as happy as you can be, raising a teenage girl. Remember me.
Love always,
Buffy
Giles wiped away tears. It seemed like he could hear Buffy's voice, whispering the words on the paper. He was so happy to know that she loved him and trusted him so fully, that she felt he had been a pivotal figure in making her the wonderful, strong woman she was today. It just seemed so pointless, reading these words while she was unreachable, in a coma. Making these discoveries when he wasn't sure when he could thank her for her beautiful words.
Spike stood in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. He'd come back a few minutes before, after giving Giles an extra couple of minutes beyond the five he'd asked for. He cleared his throat to warn the Watcher, but Giles was still caught up in his thoughts, and hadn't heard him. Now Spike was unsure of whether to try to get the Watcher's attention again, or go away for another couple of minutes and pretend the whole awkward situation never happened. Finally deciding to leave, he was stopped mid-turn by Giles's voice.
"Back already, Spike? Sorry, I must not have noticed you. Just let me get up and we'll head over to the other room."
Giles began to climb out of bed. He grabbed for the robe as he stood, keeping his back away from the vampire. The damn hospital robes always made you so self-conscious and vulnerable.
"Are you going to give the letters to everyone?"
"What's that? Oh, yes I think I will. Mine was quite touching, but since it was written in present tense, it wasn't too upsetting. I think it'll be good for everyone to know how Buffy feels about us. It'll give us all hope while we wait for her to wake up. I do hope all of the letters are in present tense though," Giles mused.
"Mine was." As soon as he spoke, Spike could have bitten off his tongue. He'd intended to keep his letter from the Slayer private, a secret he could treasure.
"Oh, yes, she mentioned she asked you to keep an eye on all of us, especially Dawn." Giles paused. "Spike, I feel I should apologize. I'm sorry for how we treated you yesterday when you mentioned visiting Buffy. She trusts you and we should too. It's just very hard to see the man behind the monster sometimes."
Spike was struck speechless. The last thing he'd ever expected was Giles to apologize for treating him like the demon he was. He managed a small smile for the Watcher. "Thanks, Giles."
After a brief uncomfortable silence, both men began muttering about going over to the other room, and promptly fit action to words. They were unable to look one another in the eye as they crossed the hall and tapped lightly on the door before entering.
In the other room, Xander, Willow, Tara, Anya and Dawn were sitting around talking quietly. Dawn was the first to notice Giles and Spike enter. She instantly got up from her chair and hugged Giles, then pasted herself close to Spike's side. The vampire sent a surprised and happy smile down to the girl. They moved off to a corner of the room, snagging a couple of chairs on the way.
Giles sank gratefully into the chair Xander hurriedly vacated. The young man perched on Anya's bed, and everyone turned expectant eyes on Giles.
"I'll jump right to the point – until Buffy wakes up, we are going to have hold down the fort. We need to patrol, but more importantly, we need to look after you, Dawn. Fortunately, Buffy left instructions about what to do in a situation such as this. The end result is that she asked me to look after you and all the finances, only if you agree of course." Giles looked directly at the young girl as he spoke.
Dawn looked surprised to be asked her opinion. "Yeah, Giles that's fine. Um, do I have to move to your apartment?"
Giles allowed a tiny smile to escape. "No, I believe I'll move into your house until Buffy wakes from her coma."
"Good, 'cause I've got a lot of stuff, and I don't think I could fit it all in your place."
"Yes, well. In addition to the legal documents, Buffy left letters for all of you. Xander, could you hand these round?"
Xander got up and grabbed the white envelopes Giles held out, but then he hesitated. "Uh, Buffy wrote these for us in case she died, right?"
"That is my understanding," Giles answered.
"Well, she's not dead, and she's going to wake up eventually. Should we really read these?"
Giles looked thoughtful. "I read mine. It really helped me understand what she wanted me to do. The fact is, that even though she's going to wake up, we don't know exactly how long we are going to be without her. I suppose it's up to you whether you want to read it or not."
"Well, I want mine," Dawn said, holding out her hand to Xander. He reluctantly gave her the letter marked Dawn, then handed Willow hers. With just the letter marked Xander and Anya in his hand, he sat down beside Anya and examined the envelope as if it was a deadly snake.
Dawn ripped hers open as soon as she got it. Spike got up and looked out the window to give her some privacy.
Dearest Dawn,
This is the hardest letter I've ever had to write. If you're reading it, it means I'm not there anymore, and I'm really sorry about that. I wanted to see you grow up, grow more beautiful, grow more like Mom every day.
You are in danger, captured by Glory, even as I write this. I'm really worried about you, but I have a plan. Okay, maybe not a plan, just an idea. When Giles and I went to talk to the First Slayer, she told me that death is my gift. I was pretty freaked out at the time. It's one thing to fight evil every night, killing vampires and demons, but it's something else again to have someone tell me that I have a special skill for dealing death. I told Giles about it, that the Slayer really is just a killer, and he said he thought I was wrong. He didn't say anything else, but I thought about it a little. I think I know what the First Slayer meant now.
The ritual calls for blood – as Spike said, it's always got to be blood. I think the First Slayer was trying to tell me that you and I share the blood. If the ritual starts, I think I can sacrifice myself to stop it.
If that's what happened, just know that I love you. You mean more to me than life. You, being able to grow up, being able to have a life, are my priority right now. Don't ever forget that.
Mom loved you. I love you. I'll do anything to come back safe to you.
That was pretty sappy, wasn't it? Sorry. By now you probably know I asked Giles to look after you. I hope that's okay. He's like a father to me, and I know he'll do his best for you. Of course, if you want to go to Dad, I'm sure Giles will understand. If you leave, though, stay in touch with everyone, for me?
I also asked Spike to keep an eye on you, and to help with the patrolling. It took a long time for me to see it, but now I believe he really does love us. I don't know if I'll ever even really like him, but I do trust him, and I can see that he is a good man.
I feel like I need to give you some last words of advice, but all I can think of is don't skip school. That's pretty stupid.
I love you,
Buffy
Dawn's sobs finally broke from her chest. Spike quickly turned back to the young girl and gathered her against him. She clung tightly to him, one hand tight around the letter. Her sobs finally quieted, she pulled away and headed for the bathroom. "I need to wash my face," she whispered.
She didn't take long in the bathroom. When she came back, she and Spike sat back in their chairs. Shyly, Dawn offered her letter to Spike. "Do you want to read it?"
Spike was stunned. He looked into Dawn's eyes and realized that she truly meant it. Instead of reaching for the letter she held out, he reached into his duster pocket, pulling out the letter Buffy wrote for him.
"A trade?" he offered.
Dawn smiled and they exchanged letters. Spike's letter was quite short, so Dawn finished quickly. She watched tears roll down Spike's face as he realized Buffy's intention to sacrifice herself to save Dawn.
"She really loved you, didn't she 'bit?" Spike said with a tone of wonder in his voice. "I spent decades with Dru, claiming undying love, but I know neither of us would ever consider that sacrifice for the other."
The girl and the vampire sat in silence, thinking of the brave girl they both loved.
Willow looked at the names on the envelope Xander handed her. "What do you say, baby? Should we read it?"
"I don't know, Willow. Do you want to?" Tara asked.
"I'm a little scared. What if it's bad stuff?"
"Willow, it's Buffy. She's your best friend. She just wants you to know how much you mean to her. Open it."
Willow marvelled at the authoritative tone Tara used as she slowly unsealed the envelope and pulled out the letter.
Dear Willow and Tara,
I hope it's okay that I wrote one letter for both of you. You two seem so together, it's hard to pull you apart in my mind. I'm always surprised when I see one of you without the other.
Tara, thank you for helping me so much when Mom died. It really helped, knowing that you had gone through that same terrible loss and heart wrenching grief. I really appreciate the time you've spent with Dawn, too. I know it must have been hard getting to know us when you first started coming around, but I'm glad you gave us a chance.
Willow, we've been friends for so long. We've gone through so much together. I want you to know I never could have made it this far without you. I don't know what you see when you look in the mirror, but I see a strong, mature, happy, wonderful woman. I'm so proud that I can call that woman my friend.
Please help Giles take care of Dawn, I think he's going to need it. I hope you don't mind that I asked him to do it, but I've always thought of him as my father, so it seemed right. I know that you two will be there for her anyway, even if she's not your responsibility.
I know you will have a wonderful life together. You have such love, you can't help but be happy. Being around you makes me happy, just because you glow with joy when you are together.
I love you both so much,
Buffy
"I never knew Buffy was so poetic," Willow said softly through her tears. "I mean, she spent so much time killing things, it doesn't seem like she would spend her spare time reading poetry."
"She once quoted Elizabeth Barrett Browning to me," Tara mused. "I remember saying I was surprised. She looked really embarrassed, and muttered about love poems, then she ran out to kill something."
"Thank you for making me open the letter, Tara." Willow leaned in to kiss her lover. They leaned their foreheads together and read the letter again.
Xander sat down with his letter in his hands. Anya looked at him impatiently.
"Well?" she said.
"Well, what?"
"Aren't you going to open it?"
"Buffy wrote it for us to open after she died. She's not dead so I'm not going to open it," Xander stated stubbornly.
Anya leaned forward and looked Xander directly in the eye. "It has my name on it too, and I want to read it. Give." Xander handed it over immediately.
Anya ripped it open and pulled out the paper.
Dear Xander and Anya,
I wish I'd said this to you before. I wish you two knew how much you meant to me when I was still around to enjoy you. Well, all I can do is hope that you already know how much I love you both.
Anya, you are an original. You never fail to make me laugh, even when you don't mean to. I love that about you. Thank you for helping us so much over the past few years. Your insight and connections helped us immeasurably. Thank you for loving Xander, too. He deserves someone as wonderful as you.
Xander, you've been beside me ever since I arrived in Sunnydale. Sorry about that. Seriously, I can't thank you enough for putting your life on the line so many times, for risking so much. You've always been the optimist, the hopeful joker. You keep us laughing, and grounded, and real. I know you are so much more to us, but I don't have words to describe how much I love you and need you. I'm so glad you are so happy and successful now.
I know this is a big request to make, but help Giles look after Dawn. I asked everyone to help, even Spike. Somehow, I think it's going to take all of you to take care of her. Also, since Spike is helping us now, Xander do you think you could possibly lay off the poor guy? Not totally, of course, just don't drive him away.
You two are so special. I hope you knew even before this letter how important you are to me, and to the group. Don't ever sell yourself short, Xander. You have so much to offer – your sense of humour, your willingness to help, your wonderful, brave heart, though I think that belongs to Anya now. I wish you both the best of luck and so much success, financial and otherwise.
Love Always,
Buffy
Xander looked down at Anya. "She's right you know," he said. "My heart does belong to you."
Anya looked touched by his admission, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I'm glad she's not dead," she whispered.
Xander choked back an utterly inappropriate laugh at Anya's totally serious comment. "Me too, An, me too."
"I'm even gladder that you're not dead."
"Me too."
Finally everyone started looking around, furtively wiping away tears, and in some cases, hiding gentle smiles.
Giles took that as his cue to regain everyone's attention. "Well, there's very little we can do to carry out Buffy's wishes tonight. Most of us are still required to stay in the hospital until tomorrow morning, but Dawn, you're not required to be here. Would you prefer to go home?"
Dawn initially looked excited at the prospect, but then her face fell. "Whose gonna come with me? I'm pretty sure Xander wants to stay here with Anya."
"I was hoping Spike could look after getting you home safely. Spike, are you okay with that?" the Watcher asked politely.
Spike was pleased and flattered at Giles' pleasant tone. "Yeah, sure, Giles, I'll watch the Little Bit."
Dawn was smiling again, happy that she could sleep in her own bed, in her own pyjamas. She hopped out of the chair, anxious to be away. "Is there anything else, Giles?"
"Nothing that can't wait until we are discharged. See you tomorrow Dawn, Spike," Giles smiled tolerantly.
Dawn tried to pull Spike from the room, but he was immovable. "You, uh, need a hand getting back to your room, Giles?" Spike asked quietly.
Giles looked up in thanks. "Please, Spike, I'm feeling far too exhausted and sore to make it back across the hall."
"'Bit, could you grab a wheelchair?"
Dawn skipped off to get a wheelchair. Spike and Giles eyed each other. "Do you want me to patrol tonight, Giles?" Spike asked, desperate to end the silence.
"We've found the night after an apocalypse is pretty quiet. I wouldn't bother, just stay with Dawn."
"Yeah, okay, no problem."
Dawn was back with the wheelchair, thankfully ending the conversation. Spike and Dawn gingerly helped the Watcher into the chair, then wheeled him across the hall and helped him into bed.
Giles heaved a sigh of relief once he was in bed. Sitting upright seemed to pull on the stitches in his side. He waved goodnight to Dawn and Spike, and closed his eyes, thankful to be able to sleep.
Dawn and Spike headed for the elevator. Away from everyone else, Dawn seemed suddenly hesitant. Spike questioned her about it. "Spit it out 'bit. What do you want?"
"I want, can, I mean, may we look in on Buffy before we head out?"
Spike instantly softened. "Of course, Dawnie."
Upstairs in ICU, a different nurse was on duty, but she waved them through with as much kindness at the day nurse. Buffy lay in her bed, as still and silent as before. Dawn caught up Buffy's hand with her own.
"Hey Buffy. I wanted you to know we read the letters you wrote for us. I hope it's okay. I know you're not dead, but you're not here either. I needed to hear the things you wrote me." Dawn paused for a long moment, and then went on in a much harder voice. "Don't even think of sacrificing yourself for me again, though. I need my sister way too much. Please don't leave me, Buffy." Dawn leaned down to hug Buffy. "Good night. I'll see you in the morning." Dawn moved to the door, assuming they'd be on their way. She was touched to see Spike move to where she had stood only a moment before, clasp Buffy's hand and lean down to whisper inaudible in Buffy's ear, then kiss the unresponsive girl on the forehead.
"All right, 'bit, what are we waiting for? Giles will stake me if I keep you out much later."
Dawn followed Spike out the door. As they reached the elevator, her curiosity got the better of her. "What did you say to Buffy, Spike?"
"None of your business, Dawn."
The tiny spark that was Buffy danced with joy when she sensed Dawn and Spike coming. Until this, she'd never given much consideration to how boring being in a coma must be.
Dimly, she felt Dawn clasp her physical hand, and desperately tried to answer in kind, but her body was unresponsive. Frustrated yet accepting, she relaxed, listening to Dawn. Suddenly hearing Dawn talk about reading the letters she'd left, she stiffened. Those letters were a goodbye, intended for her friends if she died. For a moment, she was incensed. Then, as Dawn continued speaking about how the contents made her feel, Buffy relaxed. Dawn was right. The things in those letters were things she should have made sure her friends knew long ago. Of course, when Dawn revealed her anger regarding Buffy's decision to sacrifice herself to save her sister, Buffy again wished, albeit briefly, that the letters had stayed secret.
Finally Dawn bent to hug her, and she warmed with the love she felt radiating from the younger girl. As Dawn moved away, Spike came closer. Buffy was intrigued to know what Spike thought of the letter. A faint pink glow lit the flame that was her essence when Spike bent down and whispered warmly in her ear. "Thanks for trusting me, love."
All too soon she was alone again.
Spike hurried Dawn through darkened streets. Despite what Giles said about the post-apocalypse calmness, Spike really didn't want to get in a fight when he had Dawn to protect. He breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally safe inside the Summers' home.
Dawn was happy to see home. She felt grubby from the dust the previous night and sleeping in her clothes all day. She immediately went upstairs and started the shower.
Spike flopped to the couch and grabbed the remote control. About to settle in front of the television, he noticed the mess around him. He groaned. He'd made the mess, he'd have to clean it up, even though he'd done it for a good reason. Fortunately, it only took about ten minutes.
About half an hour later, he heard Dawn coming downstairs. He sat up to give the girl some space on the couch. She sat down beside him quietly, not caring what they watched, just needing some company.
Finally, about midnight, Spike looked at Dawn. She'd fallen asleep about thirty minutes before, and was now slumped against him. With a low groan, he swung her up in his arms and carried her to her room, laying her gently on the bed. As he turned to go, he heard a small voice.
"Don't go."
He turned back. Dawn lay were he'd placed her, but her eyes were open and staring at him fearfully.
"Please, stay with me tonight."
About to demur, he stopped. Her eyes glistened with tears, and as he watched, a crystal droplet snaked its way down her cheek. Saying nothing more, he settled himself on the floor. Her hand reached out, seeking for his. When she found it, a tiny sigh escaped her lips and she relaxed, dropping back into sleep.
Woohoo, I finally finished chapter 6! It felt like I would never get this done, and I'm sorry for taking so long posting.
Many thanks to all of those who sent me reviews. They were much appreciated as I struggled with the demons that dragged me away from the computer – laundry, work, Tae Kwon Do, eating, you know, real life. Without you, this might never have gotten finished.
Special thanks to ms trick, who keeps emailing me and keeping my spirits high, and thrilled me to pieces by quoting me back to me.
I try to email everyone directly to thank them for their reviews, but since I can't get through to kori hime and Harm Marie, I'll thank you here (again, cause you are so awesome and keep sending me reviews). Thanks! I'm glad you liked the chapter and felt that it did a good job of keeping Buffy as a character despite her coma. Thanks also for mentioning that you liked the colour/flame as Buffy "essence" or whatever I'm calling it this chapter.
Thanks to everyone for being so patient, and I hope this (long) chapter makes up for it.
GarniGal
PS – This chapter title is part of a sonnet from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnets from the Portuguese. It's number 14, if you are interested.
The door to the girls' room was closed, so Spike put his face to the glass insert, trying to see in without awakening the occupants. Everyone was fast asleep and the remains of several breakfast trays were piled on a table. Each of the girls was curled up in a hospital bed, while Xander sprawled, snoring, in a visitor's chair, still holding tight to Anya's hand.
Spike heaved a sigh of relief. The Little Bit was well taken care of, and perfectly safe. He felt his vigilance relaxing, leaving him even more exhausted. He plodded over to Giles' room, but didn't bother to check if the Watcher was asleep, simply pushing open the door and dropping into the chair at his bedside.
Giles startled when the door opened, turning away from his contemplation of the world outside his window to watch the vampire drag his obviously tired body to the chair. Giles examined Spike as the blond stared at the floor, elbows on knees and his chin in his hands. Giles felt very uncomfortable in the presence of the vampire, but was surprised to find his discomfort didn't seem to stem from fear. He prodded at the feeling, trying to define it, only to be pulled away from his naval-gazing by the sound of Spike's voice.
"Everybody else is asleep. Dawn curled up in the empty bed, so the only person who's stuck sleeping in a chair is Xander. I'm so exhausted I could sleep through an apocalypse, but there's too much to do. I just can't think of any of it right now."
Giles had never heard Spike speak without the cocky, sarcastic tone. He said as much to Spike.
"Too damn tired to be sarcastic. Just tell me what to do and when I get to sleep."
Giles searched his mind for what needed to be done. Before he could come up with anything, Spike spoke again.
"I'd like to be able to tell 'bit what's going to happen to her until Buffy wakes up."
Finally Giles knew what Spike had to do. "Buffy always kept a will, a bunch of letters, stuff like that in her room. Hopefully they'll be able to tell us what to do next. Head over to the house and get them. Um, can you get in?"
"Yeah, Buffy invited me in again last night. Would the papers be in her desk, or did she have somewhere special for them?"
"I don't honestly know. She told me she had them, not where they were kept. I assume that means they are in an obvious location."
"Okay, I'll get them and bring them here."
"You're exhausted Spike. Just take a look at them, get the gist, and then take a rest. Come back tonight. None of us will be awake enough to figure out what to do until after we've slept anyway."
Spike looked at Giles in surprise. It really seemed like the Watcher trusted him, at least with this. Then again, maybe Rupert was too tired to really think about what he was saying, judging by the yawns and heavy eyes. It didn't matter to Spike. He had a reason to go to Buffy's and look through her stuff, without fear of getting caught. Too bad he was too tired to take advantage.
After a quick journey through the sewers from the hospital to the exit nearest Buffy's place and a quick, smoky dash though the sunlight, Spike found himself on the Slayer's porch. He was about to kick in the door when he remembered that a few weeks before, Buffy showed him where she kept a spare key. Sheepishly, he pulled it from its hiding spot under a false newel post in the porch.
He opened the door and stood in the entry for a moment. The house still smelled of Buffy and Dawn, and for a moment, he expected them to come out of the kitchen to greet him; Dawn with hesitant, shy smiles and Buffy with scowls and bitter comments. With a sigh, Spike shook himself out of his dream and headed up the stairs to Buffy's room.
The room was bright due to the two windows, but all of the light was soft, diffuse and indirect, allowing Spike to move freely without closing the curtains. He looked around appraisingly. 'Logical places first,' he thought, heading for the plain white desk.
An hour later, Spike was frustrated. He'd searched all of the obvious places – her desk, her dresser (taking special time in her underwear drawer), under her mattress, where he'd found her diary, but no letters. There was only one place left to look – the hope chest/weapons chest at the foot of the bed. As soon as he opened it, he knew it was hopeless. The chest was well organized, with a few frilly, girly things one corner, and the rest filled with well-maintained and organized weapons. He closed the chest and sat on the lid, utterly exhausted and baffled.
Rolling his head from shoulder to shoulder, a spot of bright red caught his eye. Slowly, he stood up and moved towards the bit of lace caught in the closed closet door. Something Dawn said earlier came back to him: 'I used to go into Buffy's closet when she was out. She had a hiding spot under the floorboards where she put her slaying supplies, and any clothes that got wrecked.'
Spike opened the door, and sure enough, in the back corner, there was a floorboard slightly raised from the rest. Spike gently pulled it up and reached in, feeling the crinkle of paper.
'Must remember to thank the Little Bit,' he grinned, pulling out two large brown envelopes. He sat on the bed and examined the packages in his hands. The envelopes were nondescript, plain with a tied down flap. They looked a little worn around the edges, as if someone had handled them regularly. One was quite thick and lumpy. It was marked Letters in Buffy's handwriting. The other was thinner and flatter, marked Legal.
Spike really wanted to know what was in the thick envelope. Was there a letter for him? He scoffed at that thought. Why would Buffy leave him a letter in the event of her death? She hardly cared about him when she was alive, why would she take the time to write him a letter? Regretfully, he laid the envelope on the bed.
Unwrapping the string holding the Legal envelope closed, he pulled out a sheaf of papers. The top paper was titled "Living Will" and Spike suppressed a shudder, mentally thanking the powers that be that Buffy wasn't on life support. He slipped that paper back into the envelope, turning to the next. This one was marked "Power of Attorney". With a quick glance, Spike saw all he needed. In the case of Buffy's incapacitation, Rupert Giles was designated to take care of all assets and any minor children in Buffy's care. This document was dated two days after Joyce's death. Spike put that paper back in the envelope as well, then gasped as he saw the title of the next paper. "Last Will and Testament of Buffy Anne Summers". The words seemed to swell, taking up all of his field of vision. Finally regaining control of himself, Spike scanned the three page document. It was also dated two days after Joyce's death, and said basically the same as the Power of Attorney – Giles to take care of Dawn and to take control of the money until Dawn was of age. In addition, there were several sentimental objects left to different people. There was jewellery for Dawn, Willow, Tara, and Anya, DVD's for Xander, a statue for Giles, and a leather jacket for Angel. Spike's eyes swam with tears at the final item. No matter what, Angel seemed to have a hold on Buffy's heart that no man or vampire could ever loosen. Spike laid the will down with the other papers and dashed away the tears. It didn't matter what Buffy left Angel in her will. Angel wasn't here, and Spike was. He got to see her, smell her, just be near her, and that was something Angel must yearn for.
Spike hastily pushed all of the legal papers back into the envelope. He picked up both envelopes and set them on the bedside table. He was exhausted, and lay back on Buffy's bed. Giles told him to get some rest, but he didn't specify where. Might as well take advantage of this opportunity, burying his face in the Buffy-scented pillow. He was asleep in mere moments.
Hours later, Spike awoke. It was still twenty minutes before sunset. He stretched in Buffy's bed, luxuriating in the softness and scent. As he stretched, his arm bumped the bedside table and the envelopes fell to the floor. He bent down to retrieve them and again found his attention on the thick envelope labelled Letters. He sat for a moment, the envelope in his lap. Did he really want to know whom she considered important enough to write a letter to? Did he really want to see a thick letter for Angel and find nothing for himself? About to set the envelope down, he suddenly changed his mind. He had to know what was in there. When he got back to the hospital, Giles was going to open the envelope, and if he reacted with pain, Xander would never let him live it down. Pulling the string away, he turned the envelope over and dumped its contents on the bed. There were several white envelopes inside, each labelled for a specific recipient and sealed shut. He turned them over slowly; here was one for Willow and Tara, a thick one for Dawn, a really thick one for Giles, one for Xander and Anya, and, of course, one for Angel. He felt a stab of pain. He gathered the envelopes up to put them back in the larger envelope. As he started to shove them in, however, he heard a crinkling sound. It was higher pitched than the sound of the envelope. He looked inside, and there was a single piece of paper not inside it's own envelope. He pulled it out with some trepidation. It was probably just a letter to everyone, but he looked at it anyway. When he saw his name at the top, he thought his heart would start.
Dear Spike,
Today you endured unimaginable pain, but you still kept Dawn safe. I can't pretend to love you for that, or even understand you, but I do thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I'll always thank you for protecting Dawn.
I know you say you love me, and today, maybe I believe you a little bit. I don't know if we'll ever be friends, but I do trust you with my most precious possession: my sister. If anything happens to me, help them take care of her. They'll need all the help they can get. Please look after all of them, even Xander. You are the strongest person I know, and not just physically. They are going to need you to keep them in reality, to take the really hard blows, all the stuff I used to do. I know you can do it, and I know you will. For Dawn, and for me.
Buffy
By the time he reached the end, the paper was soggy with his tears. He read it over and over again, pledging his love and protection every time. Finally, he carefully folded it and put it in the inside pocket of his duster. He gathered the smaller envelopes and put them back in the large brown envelope. Setting them aside, he took a moment to make the bed and ensure that his search hadn't disturbed the Slayer's room. On his way out the door, he stopped to wash his face and erase the evidence of tears.
Dark had fully fallen by the time he left the Summers' home, so he hurried down gloomy streets to the hospital. Once inside the well-lighted public building, he made a slight detour to steal a bag of blood for supper. Rested and fed, he hurried upstairs to Giles' room.
Giles was getting impatient, waiting for Spike. Xander had been over a couple of times since he woke up to see if Giles wanted to join the rest of them in the other room, but Giles turned him down. Giles wanted to see Buffy's papers before everyone else. He needed to seem like he knew what was going on. He was understandably sharp when Spike finally arrived.
"Finally! I hope you have a good excuse for your tardiness, Spike."
"Yeah. I couldn't be bothered getting here any sooner," Spike snorted contemptuously.
"Obviously you got some rest. Your irritating personality is back." Giles snatched the envelopes Spike silently held out.
"The upshot is that you are supposed to look after Dawn and the money stuff." Spike offered.
"I'll read the documents myself, thank you Spike."
"I don't know if you want..." Spike was cut off by Giles' gasp when he saw the documents.
"I should have realized," Giles mumbled, as he looked at the Living Will. "At least she's breathing on her own. I don't know if I could, no matter what she wanted."
"I think the Power of Attorney is the only one that applies right now," Spike said.
"What else is in here?" Giles ignore Spike, pulling out the will. He looked at it for an instant, and then dropped it like it burned him. "Yes, I think you are correct, Spike. I'll leave these other papers in here. No one needs to see these, they aren't relevant to this situation." Giles hurriedly stuffed the Living Will and the Last Will and Testament back in the Legal envelope and put it in a drawer, then wiped his eyes.
"What's in this other envelope? I assume you looked at it as well," Giles asked, hesitating now to open the envelope.
"It's filled with envelopes for everyone. I didn't read anything, they are all sealed," Spike said. "I don't know if you should give them to everyone. She probably meant them for you if she died."
"Perhaps if I read mine, I'll know whether I should give them to people," Giles mused, already reaching for the string holding it shut.
"Uh, in that case, I'll step out for a smoke. You'll want privacy, I'm sure."
Surprised by Spike's consideration, Giles sent him a grateful look. "Thank you Spike. I think I'll be done in about five minutes, if you want to come back and go over the other room with me."
"You might need more time than that. Watcher," Spike mumbled under his breath as he left the room.
Giles sat for a moment with the envelope in his lap. His name was written boldly across the front and it was thick and heavy. Finally he picked it up and opened it with shaking hands. He pulled out several handwritten pages. He sighed. Her writing was ridiculously large. If she wrote like a sensible person, she probably would have only needed a single page. He started reading.
Dear Giles,
If you are reading this, something really bad happened to me. Maybe I'm dead, or maybe I just got so sentimental I felt that you needed to see this letter; either way, sorry about that.
These may seem melodramatic, the letters after I'm gone. It's like something from a movie. The fact is, I've always known that I could get killed suddenly, and I really didn't want to leave anything unsaid, or any bad feelings behind. So I wrote these letters for you, for Willow, and for Xander. I used to have letters for Mom and Dad, but Mom's gone and I can't be bothered with a father who can't be bothered with me. As you can tell by the dates, I rewrote all of the letters after Mom died. Somehow, I had a lot more to say after going through that.
I know you, so business first. By now, you probably know I want you to look after Dawnie and the house and stuff. Sorry about that too. But really, you were the only person who was right. I needed someone I could rely on. Dawn needs a real parent, and you are the only one who fits that bill. After all, you already did a great job with me. I'll warn you now: Dad might try to fight you for her once he hears I'm gone. Please do everything in your power to keep her. I know Sunnydale isn't exactly the greatest place in the world to grow up, but I have a feeling that she belongs here, with the Scooby Gang. If Dad does get custody, it's okay. I understand. Dad can be pretty determined to get his own way. Just try and keep in touch with her, and let her know that you are there for her.
If you raise her, make sure she knows I love her. And make sure she goes to school. She seems to have problems with that. I know she's not a slayer, but make sure she knows how to defend herself.
I'm sure Willow and Xander will be around to help too. You should know, I asked Spike to stick close and look after all of you. He loves Dawn, and he's proven himself to me. I don't know if you'll ever like him, but at least he can help with the demons and the crazy teenager I'm sticking you with.
Now that the business is out of the way, I need you to know that I love you. You are like a father to me. You make me do what's right, what's best. I didn't always want to do what you said, but I always knew you had my best interests at heart. That's what a father is, and that's what I want for Dawn if I can't be there.
Please don't worry about me. Just live your life and be happy. Or as happy as you can be, raising a teenage girl. Remember me.
Love always,
Buffy
Giles wiped away tears. It seemed like he could hear Buffy's voice, whispering the words on the paper. He was so happy to know that she loved him and trusted him so fully, that she felt he had been a pivotal figure in making her the wonderful, strong woman she was today. It just seemed so pointless, reading these words while she was unreachable, in a coma. Making these discoveries when he wasn't sure when he could thank her for her beautiful words.
Spike stood in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. He'd come back a few minutes before, after giving Giles an extra couple of minutes beyond the five he'd asked for. He cleared his throat to warn the Watcher, but Giles was still caught up in his thoughts, and hadn't heard him. Now Spike was unsure of whether to try to get the Watcher's attention again, or go away for another couple of minutes and pretend the whole awkward situation never happened. Finally deciding to leave, he was stopped mid-turn by Giles's voice.
"Back already, Spike? Sorry, I must not have noticed you. Just let me get up and we'll head over to the other room."
Giles began to climb out of bed. He grabbed for the robe as he stood, keeping his back away from the vampire. The damn hospital robes always made you so self-conscious and vulnerable.
"Are you going to give the letters to everyone?"
"What's that? Oh, yes I think I will. Mine was quite touching, but since it was written in present tense, it wasn't too upsetting. I think it'll be good for everyone to know how Buffy feels about us. It'll give us all hope while we wait for her to wake up. I do hope all of the letters are in present tense though," Giles mused.
"Mine was." As soon as he spoke, Spike could have bitten off his tongue. He'd intended to keep his letter from the Slayer private, a secret he could treasure.
"Oh, yes, she mentioned she asked you to keep an eye on all of us, especially Dawn." Giles paused. "Spike, I feel I should apologize. I'm sorry for how we treated you yesterday when you mentioned visiting Buffy. She trusts you and we should too. It's just very hard to see the man behind the monster sometimes."
Spike was struck speechless. The last thing he'd ever expected was Giles to apologize for treating him like the demon he was. He managed a small smile for the Watcher. "Thanks, Giles."
After a brief uncomfortable silence, both men began muttering about going over to the other room, and promptly fit action to words. They were unable to look one another in the eye as they crossed the hall and tapped lightly on the door before entering.
In the other room, Xander, Willow, Tara, Anya and Dawn were sitting around talking quietly. Dawn was the first to notice Giles and Spike enter. She instantly got up from her chair and hugged Giles, then pasted herself close to Spike's side. The vampire sent a surprised and happy smile down to the girl. They moved off to a corner of the room, snagging a couple of chairs on the way.
Giles sank gratefully into the chair Xander hurriedly vacated. The young man perched on Anya's bed, and everyone turned expectant eyes on Giles.
"I'll jump right to the point – until Buffy wakes up, we are going to have hold down the fort. We need to patrol, but more importantly, we need to look after you, Dawn. Fortunately, Buffy left instructions about what to do in a situation such as this. The end result is that she asked me to look after you and all the finances, only if you agree of course." Giles looked directly at the young girl as he spoke.
Dawn looked surprised to be asked her opinion. "Yeah, Giles that's fine. Um, do I have to move to your apartment?"
Giles allowed a tiny smile to escape. "No, I believe I'll move into your house until Buffy wakes from her coma."
"Good, 'cause I've got a lot of stuff, and I don't think I could fit it all in your place."
"Yes, well. In addition to the legal documents, Buffy left letters for all of you. Xander, could you hand these round?"
Xander got up and grabbed the white envelopes Giles held out, but then he hesitated. "Uh, Buffy wrote these for us in case she died, right?"
"That is my understanding," Giles answered.
"Well, she's not dead, and she's going to wake up eventually. Should we really read these?"
Giles looked thoughtful. "I read mine. It really helped me understand what she wanted me to do. The fact is, that even though she's going to wake up, we don't know exactly how long we are going to be without her. I suppose it's up to you whether you want to read it or not."
"Well, I want mine," Dawn said, holding out her hand to Xander. He reluctantly gave her the letter marked Dawn, then handed Willow hers. With just the letter marked Xander and Anya in his hand, he sat down beside Anya and examined the envelope as if it was a deadly snake.
Dawn ripped hers open as soon as she got it. Spike got up and looked out the window to give her some privacy.
Dearest Dawn,
This is the hardest letter I've ever had to write. If you're reading it, it means I'm not there anymore, and I'm really sorry about that. I wanted to see you grow up, grow more beautiful, grow more like Mom every day.
You are in danger, captured by Glory, even as I write this. I'm really worried about you, but I have a plan. Okay, maybe not a plan, just an idea. When Giles and I went to talk to the First Slayer, she told me that death is my gift. I was pretty freaked out at the time. It's one thing to fight evil every night, killing vampires and demons, but it's something else again to have someone tell me that I have a special skill for dealing death. I told Giles about it, that the Slayer really is just a killer, and he said he thought I was wrong. He didn't say anything else, but I thought about it a little. I think I know what the First Slayer meant now.
The ritual calls for blood – as Spike said, it's always got to be blood. I think the First Slayer was trying to tell me that you and I share the blood. If the ritual starts, I think I can sacrifice myself to stop it.
If that's what happened, just know that I love you. You mean more to me than life. You, being able to grow up, being able to have a life, are my priority right now. Don't ever forget that.
Mom loved you. I love you. I'll do anything to come back safe to you.
That was pretty sappy, wasn't it? Sorry. By now you probably know I asked Giles to look after you. I hope that's okay. He's like a father to me, and I know he'll do his best for you. Of course, if you want to go to Dad, I'm sure Giles will understand. If you leave, though, stay in touch with everyone, for me?
I also asked Spike to keep an eye on you, and to help with the patrolling. It took a long time for me to see it, but now I believe he really does love us. I don't know if I'll ever even really like him, but I do trust him, and I can see that he is a good man.
I feel like I need to give you some last words of advice, but all I can think of is don't skip school. That's pretty stupid.
I love you,
Buffy
Dawn's sobs finally broke from her chest. Spike quickly turned back to the young girl and gathered her against him. She clung tightly to him, one hand tight around the letter. Her sobs finally quieted, she pulled away and headed for the bathroom. "I need to wash my face," she whispered.
She didn't take long in the bathroom. When she came back, she and Spike sat back in their chairs. Shyly, Dawn offered her letter to Spike. "Do you want to read it?"
Spike was stunned. He looked into Dawn's eyes and realized that she truly meant it. Instead of reaching for the letter she held out, he reached into his duster pocket, pulling out the letter Buffy wrote for him.
"A trade?" he offered.
Dawn smiled and they exchanged letters. Spike's letter was quite short, so Dawn finished quickly. She watched tears roll down Spike's face as he realized Buffy's intention to sacrifice herself to save Dawn.
"She really loved you, didn't she 'bit?" Spike said with a tone of wonder in his voice. "I spent decades with Dru, claiming undying love, but I know neither of us would ever consider that sacrifice for the other."
The girl and the vampire sat in silence, thinking of the brave girl they both loved.
Willow looked at the names on the envelope Xander handed her. "What do you say, baby? Should we read it?"
"I don't know, Willow. Do you want to?" Tara asked.
"I'm a little scared. What if it's bad stuff?"
"Willow, it's Buffy. She's your best friend. She just wants you to know how much you mean to her. Open it."
Willow marvelled at the authoritative tone Tara used as she slowly unsealed the envelope and pulled out the letter.
Dear Willow and Tara,
I hope it's okay that I wrote one letter for both of you. You two seem so together, it's hard to pull you apart in my mind. I'm always surprised when I see one of you without the other.
Tara, thank you for helping me so much when Mom died. It really helped, knowing that you had gone through that same terrible loss and heart wrenching grief. I really appreciate the time you've spent with Dawn, too. I know it must have been hard getting to know us when you first started coming around, but I'm glad you gave us a chance.
Willow, we've been friends for so long. We've gone through so much together. I want you to know I never could have made it this far without you. I don't know what you see when you look in the mirror, but I see a strong, mature, happy, wonderful woman. I'm so proud that I can call that woman my friend.
Please help Giles take care of Dawn, I think he's going to need it. I hope you don't mind that I asked him to do it, but I've always thought of him as my father, so it seemed right. I know that you two will be there for her anyway, even if she's not your responsibility.
I know you will have a wonderful life together. You have such love, you can't help but be happy. Being around you makes me happy, just because you glow with joy when you are together.
I love you both so much,
Buffy
"I never knew Buffy was so poetic," Willow said softly through her tears. "I mean, she spent so much time killing things, it doesn't seem like she would spend her spare time reading poetry."
"She once quoted Elizabeth Barrett Browning to me," Tara mused. "I remember saying I was surprised. She looked really embarrassed, and muttered about love poems, then she ran out to kill something."
"Thank you for making me open the letter, Tara." Willow leaned in to kiss her lover. They leaned their foreheads together and read the letter again.
Xander sat down with his letter in his hands. Anya looked at him impatiently.
"Well?" she said.
"Well, what?"
"Aren't you going to open it?"
"Buffy wrote it for us to open after she died. She's not dead so I'm not going to open it," Xander stated stubbornly.
Anya leaned forward and looked Xander directly in the eye. "It has my name on it too, and I want to read it. Give." Xander handed it over immediately.
Anya ripped it open and pulled out the paper.
Dear Xander and Anya,
I wish I'd said this to you before. I wish you two knew how much you meant to me when I was still around to enjoy you. Well, all I can do is hope that you already know how much I love you both.
Anya, you are an original. You never fail to make me laugh, even when you don't mean to. I love that about you. Thank you for helping us so much over the past few years. Your insight and connections helped us immeasurably. Thank you for loving Xander, too. He deserves someone as wonderful as you.
Xander, you've been beside me ever since I arrived in Sunnydale. Sorry about that. Seriously, I can't thank you enough for putting your life on the line so many times, for risking so much. You've always been the optimist, the hopeful joker. You keep us laughing, and grounded, and real. I know you are so much more to us, but I don't have words to describe how much I love you and need you. I'm so glad you are so happy and successful now.
I know this is a big request to make, but help Giles look after Dawn. I asked everyone to help, even Spike. Somehow, I think it's going to take all of you to take care of her. Also, since Spike is helping us now, Xander do you think you could possibly lay off the poor guy? Not totally, of course, just don't drive him away.
You two are so special. I hope you knew even before this letter how important you are to me, and to the group. Don't ever sell yourself short, Xander. You have so much to offer – your sense of humour, your willingness to help, your wonderful, brave heart, though I think that belongs to Anya now. I wish you both the best of luck and so much success, financial and otherwise.
Love Always,
Buffy
Xander looked down at Anya. "She's right you know," he said. "My heart does belong to you."
Anya looked touched by his admission, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I'm glad she's not dead," she whispered.
Xander choked back an utterly inappropriate laugh at Anya's totally serious comment. "Me too, An, me too."
"I'm even gladder that you're not dead."
"Me too."
Finally everyone started looking around, furtively wiping away tears, and in some cases, hiding gentle smiles.
Giles took that as his cue to regain everyone's attention. "Well, there's very little we can do to carry out Buffy's wishes tonight. Most of us are still required to stay in the hospital until tomorrow morning, but Dawn, you're not required to be here. Would you prefer to go home?"
Dawn initially looked excited at the prospect, but then her face fell. "Whose gonna come with me? I'm pretty sure Xander wants to stay here with Anya."
"I was hoping Spike could look after getting you home safely. Spike, are you okay with that?" the Watcher asked politely.
Spike was pleased and flattered at Giles' pleasant tone. "Yeah, sure, Giles, I'll watch the Little Bit."
Dawn was smiling again, happy that she could sleep in her own bed, in her own pyjamas. She hopped out of the chair, anxious to be away. "Is there anything else, Giles?"
"Nothing that can't wait until we are discharged. See you tomorrow Dawn, Spike," Giles smiled tolerantly.
Dawn tried to pull Spike from the room, but he was immovable. "You, uh, need a hand getting back to your room, Giles?" Spike asked quietly.
Giles looked up in thanks. "Please, Spike, I'm feeling far too exhausted and sore to make it back across the hall."
"'Bit, could you grab a wheelchair?"
Dawn skipped off to get a wheelchair. Spike and Giles eyed each other. "Do you want me to patrol tonight, Giles?" Spike asked, desperate to end the silence.
"We've found the night after an apocalypse is pretty quiet. I wouldn't bother, just stay with Dawn."
"Yeah, okay, no problem."
Dawn was back with the wheelchair, thankfully ending the conversation. Spike and Dawn gingerly helped the Watcher into the chair, then wheeled him across the hall and helped him into bed.
Giles heaved a sigh of relief once he was in bed. Sitting upright seemed to pull on the stitches in his side. He waved goodnight to Dawn and Spike, and closed his eyes, thankful to be able to sleep.
Dawn and Spike headed for the elevator. Away from everyone else, Dawn seemed suddenly hesitant. Spike questioned her about it. "Spit it out 'bit. What do you want?"
"I want, can, I mean, may we look in on Buffy before we head out?"
Spike instantly softened. "Of course, Dawnie."
Upstairs in ICU, a different nurse was on duty, but she waved them through with as much kindness at the day nurse. Buffy lay in her bed, as still and silent as before. Dawn caught up Buffy's hand with her own.
"Hey Buffy. I wanted you to know we read the letters you wrote for us. I hope it's okay. I know you're not dead, but you're not here either. I needed to hear the things you wrote me." Dawn paused for a long moment, and then went on in a much harder voice. "Don't even think of sacrificing yourself for me again, though. I need my sister way too much. Please don't leave me, Buffy." Dawn leaned down to hug Buffy. "Good night. I'll see you in the morning." Dawn moved to the door, assuming they'd be on their way. She was touched to see Spike move to where she had stood only a moment before, clasp Buffy's hand and lean down to whisper inaudible in Buffy's ear, then kiss the unresponsive girl on the forehead.
"All right, 'bit, what are we waiting for? Giles will stake me if I keep you out much later."
Dawn followed Spike out the door. As they reached the elevator, her curiosity got the better of her. "What did you say to Buffy, Spike?"
"None of your business, Dawn."
The tiny spark that was Buffy danced with joy when she sensed Dawn and Spike coming. Until this, she'd never given much consideration to how boring being in a coma must be.
Dimly, she felt Dawn clasp her physical hand, and desperately tried to answer in kind, but her body was unresponsive. Frustrated yet accepting, she relaxed, listening to Dawn. Suddenly hearing Dawn talk about reading the letters she'd left, she stiffened. Those letters were a goodbye, intended for her friends if she died. For a moment, she was incensed. Then, as Dawn continued speaking about how the contents made her feel, Buffy relaxed. Dawn was right. The things in those letters were things she should have made sure her friends knew long ago. Of course, when Dawn revealed her anger regarding Buffy's decision to sacrifice herself to save her sister, Buffy again wished, albeit briefly, that the letters had stayed secret.
Finally Dawn bent to hug her, and she warmed with the love she felt radiating from the younger girl. As Dawn moved away, Spike came closer. Buffy was intrigued to know what Spike thought of the letter. A faint pink glow lit the flame that was her essence when Spike bent down and whispered warmly in her ear. "Thanks for trusting me, love."
All too soon she was alone again.
Spike hurried Dawn through darkened streets. Despite what Giles said about the post-apocalypse calmness, Spike really didn't want to get in a fight when he had Dawn to protect. He breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally safe inside the Summers' home.
Dawn was happy to see home. She felt grubby from the dust the previous night and sleeping in her clothes all day. She immediately went upstairs and started the shower.
Spike flopped to the couch and grabbed the remote control. About to settle in front of the television, he noticed the mess around him. He groaned. He'd made the mess, he'd have to clean it up, even though he'd done it for a good reason. Fortunately, it only took about ten minutes.
About half an hour later, he heard Dawn coming downstairs. He sat up to give the girl some space on the couch. She sat down beside him quietly, not caring what they watched, just needing some company.
Finally, about midnight, Spike looked at Dawn. She'd fallen asleep about thirty minutes before, and was now slumped against him. With a low groan, he swung her up in his arms and carried her to her room, laying her gently on the bed. As he turned to go, he heard a small voice.
"Don't go."
He turned back. Dawn lay were he'd placed her, but her eyes were open and staring at him fearfully.
"Please, stay with me tonight."
About to demur, he stopped. Her eyes glistened with tears, and as he watched, a crystal droplet snaked its way down her cheek. Saying nothing more, he settled himself on the floor. Her hand reached out, seeking for his. When she found it, a tiny sigh escaped her lips and she relaxed, dropping back into sleep.
Woohoo, I finally finished chapter 6! It felt like I would never get this done, and I'm sorry for taking so long posting.
Many thanks to all of those who sent me reviews. They were much appreciated as I struggled with the demons that dragged me away from the computer – laundry, work, Tae Kwon Do, eating, you know, real life. Without you, this might never have gotten finished.
Special thanks to ms trick, who keeps emailing me and keeping my spirits high, and thrilled me to pieces by quoting me back to me.
I try to email everyone directly to thank them for their reviews, but since I can't get through to kori hime and Harm Marie, I'll thank you here (again, cause you are so awesome and keep sending me reviews). Thanks! I'm glad you liked the chapter and felt that it did a good job of keeping Buffy as a character despite her coma. Thanks also for mentioning that you liked the colour/flame as Buffy "essence" or whatever I'm calling it this chapter.
Thanks to everyone for being so patient, and I hope this (long) chapter makes up for it.
GarniGal
PS – This chapter title is part of a sonnet from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnets from the Portuguese. It's number 14, if you are interested.