Things Change
Chapter Four

Author's Note: There's a flashback in this chapter, hence why I've signposted the times.

Present Day (16 years after Grave)

Spike stumbled backwards, clutching his face and muttering curses. Suddenly, he felt Dawn's weight against him and closed his eyes, readying himself for her attack. To his surprise, she didn't hit him, kick him, or cause him any damage with her surprising strength. When he opened one eye cautiously to look at her, she had her arms wrapped tightly around his waist and was sobbing with her face buried in his chest.

"There, there, love," he said, patting her back a little more awkwardly than he intended. "What's all this?"

She lifted her face to look at him and he couldn't help smiling. She really had grown up to be quite the beautiful woman. How old would she be now? Thirty? Thirty-one? She didn't look it. Her hair was shorter, she was slightly taller and curvier than he remembered, but those clear blue eyes were exactly how he remembered them.

"You've… changed," he said.

"It's called growing up," she replied and disentangled herself from him. Catching the hurt expression on his face, she softened. "You haven't changed much."

"People keep saying that, but I have," he shrugged. "I missed you, Bit."

"I'm not a Bit anymore, Spike," she laughed. "In fact, I'm getting married next week."

Spike's jaw fell as he stared at her.

"You what?" he asked.

"Married," she took his hand and pulled him into the house. He stiffened as he neared the doorway, but was surprised to find there was no barrier. She pushed him onto the couch and settled cross-legged beside him. "I've been living in New York with Anya," she continued.

"Why'd you move there?" he asked.

"My job," she said proudly. "I work on the New York Times."

"You're a journalist?" he asked.

"Yep," she said. "I joined the school paper in High School and realised I loved it. So when I got the job in New York, I left. Couple of years ago, Anya turned up and we've been roomies ever since, but she's keeping the apartment when I move in with Josh."

"Josh?" he repeated. This was so sudden, one minute she was punching him, the next hugging him and crying and now she was chattering away like nothing had changed. He couldn't help liking it.

"Yes," she replied dreamily. "He's so amazing, Spike, even you'd like him. Buffy thinks he's great, and so do Willow and Xander. He came here a few weeks ago for a barbecue. It took a while, but I think I've found The One."

"Good for you, Dawn," Spike smiled.

"What about you?" she asked. "I've told you all about me, what about you?"

"What's to say?" he shrugged.

"What happened to you in the last sixteen years, Spike? Where did you go? I won't ask why you went, I already know why," there was a note of accusation in her voice.

"You know?" he asked and looked at her.

"Yeah, Xander told me while we were taking care of Jonathon and Andrew. I take it you know about Willow?"

"She told me."

"I'll be honest with you, Spike," Dawn sighed. "I hated you for a long time, but I couldn't help missing you. After a while, as more years past, I stopped hating you and started wishing you'd come home," she reached for his hand, fingers gently touching his. "Were you all right?"

"I was fine, I had someone looking after me," he admitted.

"Like a girlfriend?" she looked almost disappointed.

"No," Spike laughed. "Lydia was definitely not girlfriend material."

"Lydia? That's who looked after you?" Spike nodded and Dawn made herself more comfortable. "Tell me about her?"

"When I left Sunny D," he began quietly. "I went to this demon bloke. See, I thought if I could just be the man your sis wanted me to be, she could forgive me. So I took all the tests, did everything I was s'posed to do and got what I wanted. I got… my soul."

"What?" Dawn asked, shocked beyond any other word, Willow had said he had changed, but she never mentioned a soul.

"Yeah, go my soul all fine and dandy, then the stupid thing made me realise I wasn't good enough for her to begin with and what I did to her could never be forgiven. You want the truth, pet?" Dawn gulped and nodded. Spike looked her in the eye as he continued. "Knowing that drove me round the bend. That and remembering all the people I hurt. Unlike the great poof, I didn't brood, I went crazy. That's when Lydia found me. I still had enough of a mind to go back to England, that's when it went downhill. There were… mirages, of people I'd hurt, killed. Mirages of Buffy… and you."

"Me?" Dawn asked in a quiet, almost squeaky voice.

"Yeah, you. Not being able to protect you from Glory," he was silent for a minute, then seemed to shake himself out of his trance. "There was this girl, Lydia Green, her name was. She'd been in a childrens home since she was ten, had attitude problems they said, her mother was a drunk and her dad beat her. Anyway, she was eighteen and out on her own when I met her. But she was doin' well for herself, had a good job in an office - not her cup of tea, but she didn't complain - and a decent flat. She found me at this bar. She knew what I was, she told me later she'd been attacked by a vamp when she was fifteen when she was running away from the home. She said some bloke in an overcoat saved her. Anyway, she knew what I was, and she dragged me outta that bar and took me to her place. When I came to, she was standing over me with a stake and the worst glare you ever saw," he smiled slightly at the memory.

"Why didn't she kill you?" Dawn asked.

"Said I was too pathetic to kill, which was why she took me outta the bar. Said there was something off about me, must've still been drunk or it was the craziness talking, 'cause I told her everything. I told her about Dru, about the Slayers I killed, about Buffy and Angelus, about Harmony, the chip, Harris, Red, you, the soul. Told her absolutely everything."

"Then what?"

"Then she asked if I wanted to move in," he shrugged, chuckling. "Said the rent was too much for her. Daft bint didn't seem to notice I was bonkers, which was why I said yes. But she did know. She had the foulest mouth you've ever known, the meanest slap and the worst attitude ever," his voice became wisful. "I called her Bambi, 'cause she had the longest, skinniest legs you ever saw. Girl was a right bitch and a half, but I loved her. She saved me. If it weren't for her, I'd probably still be in that bar. For a year, she helped me and after a while, things made sense. I got a job and we hung out, I didn't care she was the only friend I had. Then she decided she wanted to up sticks and move to America 'cause her dad had found her. So I came with her. Soon as we arrived in New Orleans, I brought her and her car to Sunnydale."

"You came back?" Dawn asked incredulously. "You came back here a year after you left and didn't come to see us?"

"I wasn't thinking right even then, Dawn," he told her. "I came back for the car, the DeSoto. Lydia said I was a crazy bastard and she was right. We ran a club together in New Orleans, I had a job in Ol' Blighty, in the same bar she pulled me out of -"

"But you said you were… crazy. Why would they give you a job?"

"It was the sleaziest club in Soho, think they give a toss so long as you do your job? So, I had some money from what I'd earnt back in England; she had some money, so we started up this club. Not much, but it paid the rent. Everything was hunky dory for years, I was myself again and me and Lydia were doin' well.

"Then, about a year ago, she got ill. Stupid kid wouldn't go to the doctors, she hated them and detested hospitals, I didn't force the issue, I just thought she was working too hard. Then, six months ago, she collapsed. She was rushed into hospital and they said she had a… brain tumour," Spike was silent, remembering how he had stood by her bed, clutching her hand as the doctor told them the news. "They, uh, said it was inoperable. It was my fault, I shoulda made her go to the doctors. She died, Dawn, almost three weeks ago. Blew all my money on the best," he gulped hard. "Funeral I could get for her. She made me promise that I'd come back here and tell Buffy I was sorry. She said I should make that right.

"That's why I'm here, Dawn, I want to make it right."

19 years previously (3 years before Grave)

The man turned the collar of his long overcoat up as he strode purposefully down the street. The rain lashed against him, but he didn't care. His eyes darted around like a nervous rabbit, although he was anything but nervous or scared. His hand closed around the comforting wood of the stake in his pocket. He reached the place he was looking for and slunk into the shadows as he knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" the gruff voice asked.

"Thorpe," the man told him. "Edward Thorpe."

With a grunt from the creature, the door opened with a loud groan and Edward was granted entry. He handed the overcoat to the troll like creature, deftly removing the stake and sliding it into the inside pocket of his suit without being noticed. He walked quickly down the hall and entered the large, warm room with a smirk. He was well aware he was the only human among them, but he wasn't worried, only confident that his fearsome reputation had preceded him as it always did.

"Thorpe," the vampire at the head of the table said. "You're here."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Hunter," Edward drawled, sliding into a comfortable easy chair.

"You will address the Master in the correct fashion," a vampire behind him snapped and yanked his head back, placing a knife at his throat.

Edward chuckled and his arm flew upward, slamming his fist into the vampire's jaw without turning around. He jumped out of his chair and kicked the vampire in the crotch, before burying the stake drawn from his pocket into the vampire's chest.

"I thought no weapons were allowed, Master," Edward asked, twirling the knife he had snatched before his victim disintegrated.

"You should talk," Hunter laughed. His expression turned serious as Edward sat down again and began cleaning his nails nonchalantly with the tip of the knife. "I hear the Council has fired you?"

"Oh, yes," Edward said, a bored note evident in his voice. "Apparently I was becoming too interested in the dark arts. Don't worry, I've had a word with Lord Oak, he said he'll keep my removal hush-hush."

"How did you wrangle that?" Hunter asked.

"My dear Oliver," Hunter shifted uncomfortably at the use of his first name. Edward smirked at his discomfort, slipped the knife into his pocket and continued. "You will find Lord Oak is not adverse to bribery."

"You really are a piece of work, Thorpe," Hunter laughed with a low whistle. "But you did find out what we needed before you got the boot?"

"Yes, the prophecies are to be found on the Hellmouth. I shall fly there tomorrow evening and lay low until the time is ripe."

"Good job," Hunter said, standing up and reaching out to shake the human's hand.

"Thank you," Edward replied graciously and left the room.

He accepted his overcoat from the troll at the door and walked out with his head high. His hand searched the pocket for what he was looking for when he heard the scream. Edward may have been in league with vampires and demons, but he was not completely cold-hearted, despite his protestations to the contrary. He ran along the street and saw a female vampire chasing a teenage girl into an alley. With a sigh, he withdrew his stake and squinted through the rain as he ran towards them. He didn't bother to pull the vampire back, he just staked it and looked at the girl with long black hair and the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen.

"Was that a… vampire?" she asked, gasping.

"Yes," he told her. "If you're going to wander the streets at night, I suggest you carry a wooden stake," he showed her his stake as an example.

"Ok," she shrugged, dusting herself down and eyeing him sceptically. "Thanks, that bitch tried to bite me."

Edward smiled as the girl eased past him and ran out of the alley. He chuckled and returned his stake to his pocket.

He searched his other pockets as he walked back to the large building housing his associates. He rolled the grenade in his hands for a minute, before pulling the pin and throwing it through one of the windows. He jogged backwards to watch from a safe distance.

The building exploded and the force threw him backward. He laughed as he stood up, the firemen and policemen would be baffled by the strange parts of anatomy they would find. Didn't want that lot in on it, he thought, as he brushed himself down and walked calmly away. All mine now.

It was a widely acknowledged fact in the demon world that, despite Edward Thorpe's occasional acts of chivalry and his family's firm place in the White Hats Hall Of Fame, he was the most cold hearted and dangerous man you could meet.

And not a man that human, demon or Slayer should cross.

Present day - again, (16 years after Grave)

"Well, now I know all about you and you know all about me," Spike said. "How about you tell me what Red wouldn't, eh?"

"What wouldn't Willow tell you?" Dawn asked cautiously, shifting uncomfortably.

"She wouldn't tell me what it means that the Slayer's part demon, why it was her fault and who the bloody hell that girl I saw last night was."

"I can tell you about Buffy's demon-ness," Dawn offered.

"Go on then."

"Buffy told me that you told her she came back wrong," Spike hung his head in shame and Dawn was surprised by his obvious discomfort. "And she told me she asked Tara about it and Tara had said the chip thought she was still dead. After Tara… died and Willow came back from England, Buffy told Willow, Xander and I everything. Buffy asked Willow if she could make sure because she'd been feeling weird. Willow said she'd research it further because there were some books Tara didn't have. It turns out that Buffy had been part-demon since they brought her back. To allow her to cross over, she had to become part-demon; otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to withstand the journey. Willow blames herself, she said it was her idea to bring Buffy back and she was the one who insisted they went through with it."

"How did the Slayer react?" Spike asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"She cried and screamed and shouted that it wasn't fair. Then she had to stop because stuff started levitating and smashing. So Xander called Giles and he came back to help research it. Buffy's demon powers had only just started to manifest. For ages, she hated it, but then she started to train with Giles. When Giles went back to England, she carried on training; normal Slayer training with me and demon power training with Willow. I think she's accepted it and in a way she's grateful 'cause she's sort of immortal - which is why she hasn't changed - so she knows she's always going to be here for Chrissy and Todd."

"Who?" Spike asked and Dawn's eyes widened as she realised what she had let slip. "Dawn, who are Chrissy and Todd?"

She looked resigned to the fact she had crossed the line and in a way, she was pleased. Sure, Buffy would be pissed as hell at her, but she'd get over it just like she got over being pulled out of Heaven, being a demon and having children. Dawn stood up and retrieved a photo from the mantelpiece. Wordlessly, she handed it to Spike.

He stared at it.

It was obviously of the barbecue Dawn had mentioned. She was in the picture, with her arms wrapped around a tall, broad brunette man. He smiled; he liked the guy already.

His eyes wandered over Xander and Willow who had their arms around each other's shoulders. They both looked the same, only a little older. Willow had her other arm around Buffy, who was smiling in the centre of the picture. Dawn was right and his eyes hadn't been lying to him the previous night; she hadn't changed, still as beautiful as ever. Then he looked at the last two people, obviously brother and sister.

He recognised the girl from the previous night, the dark blonde hair, bright grin eyes, confident smile and rounded cheeks over slightly defined cheekbones. The young man he noticed had the same hair as his sister, also slightly curled. He also had the same high cheekbones. He was a lot taller and his bright blue eyes twinkled with good humour. There was definitely something familiar about him.

"Her name's Christina," Dawn said quietly as she gazed over his shoulder at the picture. "His name is William Todd, we call him Todd."

"What are you trying to tell me, Bit?" Spike whispered.

"That you're a father," she sat down and took his hands. "There isn't much time, Spike, you need to know a lot and Buffy will be back soon. Are you listening?"

He tore his eyes away from the picture of his smiling children and nodded.

"Good. Ok, you saw Chrissy fighting last night, but she isn't a Slayer. About a year and a half ago, a man called Edward Thorpe came here. He was sacked from the Council for not following the rules or something and he decided to come to the Hellmouth to fight the good fight. While he was here, he found a prophecy about the twins of a demon Slayer. Because he had worked on the Council, he knew Buffy was the Slayer. He came and told her. She told him she had twins and she was part-demon."

"But she hates Council people!" Spike cried.

"I know, but he said he could help. She was terrified, Spike, she thought her children were going to die. She was the Slayer, they weren't, she didn't want them to be a living prophecy. So when Edward offered to help her train them, she wasn't too pleased, but she let him. I think she trusted him more because he wasn't on the Council anymore. They've been patrolling with Buffy for the past year, then a few days ago, Ed told her she should let them go out alone."

"Why?" Spike asked.

"Because if she went with them, they'd rely on her. If she didn't go, they'd learn to fight better and stuff and that would help them. So she agreed, she wasn't happy, but if it meant they'd survive, she'd do it. She loves them to bits. Edward lives here, in my old room. He trains them after school and Buffy helps him. Today she told him she wanted to patrol and he couldn't stop her. I was glad she said that, it's like having the old Buffy back. She's been different for years, but lately she's been Buffy again. She jokes around, laughs with the customers - yeah, she runs the Magic Box for Giles now - and she defies Ed's 'authority' every chance she gets. But I think she's grateful he's around, Giles visits often, but I think she feels a little better knowing there's a book type they can turn to if there's a problem."

"I don't understand, Dawn," Spike said, running his hands over his hair. "How could this happen? We're not Blossom and the Bitch Queen!"

"Who?" Dawn asked.

"Angel and Darla," Spike said. "They're the ones with the miracle kid! Stuff like this doesn't happen to me!"

"You know about Angel and Connor?" Dawn asked, wrinkling her forehead.

"I saw him a couple of times when I went to LA on business," Spike hastily explained. "How did this happen?"

"Willow said it might be because you were both demons," Dawn offered.

"Demons don't have kids!" Spike shouted. "Well, not vampires and demon Slayer's anyway, those are the rules!"

"This was prophesised, Spike," Dawn said matter-of-factly. "In prophecies, there are no rules."

"But it's impossible, how can a -"

"Dawn? Who're you talking -" Buffy froze as she entered the living room and saw Spike.

He looked so different, shyer, less confident. That jacket doesn't suit him as much as the duster, she thought abstractly as things started to rattle ominously on shelves.