Willow and Tara, the last to split off, left them at the door to the house on Revello. Spike locked the door once Dawn had got inside. They went for the couch.
She looked up at him, and the pain in her face more than even he could bear. Loss, and bitterness, and guilt and emptiness. Grief.
"I know you're just here for her." She met his eyes, and her bravery reminded him of her sister.
He shook his head. "Nah. Why do you think she even asked me for that gig?" Desperately, desperately normal. "I'm here for you, bit. Dawn." It seemed like he should call her by her name. "To help you… and because I want you here, too." The words sounded so strange and not-Spike, but then he'd never really had to be so straightforward with Buffy.
Was he crying? He noticed he was. Dawn threw herself into his arms, crying too, and he held her and they were crying together, and it felt a lot better than crying into his coat. He wasn't sure if he should lie there, after she'd quieted and he was exhausted enough to sleep as well, and figured, better for it to be weird than for Dawn to wake up alone. He carefully closed the curtains over the couch, and lay back down next to her, on top of the blanket he'd used to cover her.
She wouldn't have to wake up alone.
