Seeing You Broken Part 4

Disclaimer: Don't own nothing I tell you, nothing!

Summary: This is the story that won't go away so here's another bit of speculation of the events following "Dead Things". Willow runs into Spike at the Bronze.

Reviews: Yes, please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Well it seems that my writer's block has smashed itself into teeny pieces. Go me! Should have another chapter of 'Silence Is Golden' up pretty soon too.

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Willow paused before heading over to the bar. She'd come to the Bronze in hopes of running into Tara but she'd known it was a futile excuse. Tara was not in the habit of hanging out at the club. A familiar figure leaned against the crowded counter. The bartender nodded his acknowledgment of Willow's raised hand, letting her know he would be with her in a minute. A shove from behind pushed the redheaded witch up against Spike. He turned with a barely suppressed snarl, letting it fade as he recognized the human who'd jostled him.

"Red." The greeting was quiet. The vampire raised his beer bottle and drained it before motioning for another one.

"Spike. How are you? I haven't seen you around lately." Willow babbled as she watched the bartender work his way over to them. She ordered a coke, turning to face the blond as he requested another beer. Her eyes widened when she caught a look at her companion's face.

Spike took his new drink. A quick glance at the witch told him she'd noticed the condition of his face. He ducked his head and turned away. "Been around. Just staying out of the slayer's way. She's been a bit pissy lately." He muttered. 'Damn, knew I should have gone to Willy's. At least I would have been able to punch out anyone who said anything about my lovely appearance.' He thought as he lit a cigarette to ease his nerves.

Willow sipped her drink and stared at Spike's turned head. The massive bruising on his handsome features had shocked her. Whoever had beaten him had done quite a job of it. Vampires healed so fast that for him to still show bruises… She broke off that train of thought.

'Maybe he got in a fight on the way over here.' She mused. She watched as he tapped the end of his cigarette on the ashtray at his elbow. Her pretty forehead creased in a frown. His hands were unmarked. She'd always admired his long slender fingers with their pale flawless skin. If he'd been in a fight his hands would have been cut and bruised as well as his face. She shook out of her thoughts when she realized Spike was moving away from her.

Spike knew the second she'd realized his hands were unmarred. Silently cursing himself, he stubbed out his cigarette and moved away from the bar. His destination was the seclusion of the balcony and he headed there with trademark single-minded determination. Achieving his goal, he slumped down onto the sofa with a barely concealed sigh of defeat. He leaned his head back on the cushion and closed his eyes.

Three days earlier…

He'd tried to wait until the Whelp and Demon were long gone but his control had snapped as soon as the door had eased shut. A howl of anguish had erupted from his bruised and broken chest. Bitter tears stung the lacerations in his skin as they slid slowly down his face. For a very long time, Spike sat on the cold stone floor letting the pain drain from his being through the tears that streamed from his dark blue eyes. He never noticed the time passing as he huddled next to the wall. Finally, empty both of tears and in spirit, Spike stiffly rose from his crouch. Several wobbling steps took him to the refrigerator where he pulled several bags of blood out. Not bothering to heat them, he made his way over to the trap door that led to the lower level.

The heartbroken vampire dumped his burden on the bed and looked around distastefully. Slowly, painfully, he knelt down and began to roll up the antique carpets that covered the floor. He'd placed them there in the hopes of making the place more comfortable for Buffy. There were three of them and it took him far longer to pull them up than it had to place them just right. Finally they were rolled and ready to be moved. He'd had them for a long time and was reluctant to part with them so he dragged them over to a dry corner deep in a side tunnel. Panting needlessly from the exertion, he sat down on the edge of his bed and tore into a bag of blood. Shuddering at the cold bitterness of the pig's blood, he quickly drained it. The remaining two bags disappeared just as quickly. A swift search under the edge of the bed revealed a lost bottle of Jack Daniels. Having satisfied the demon with the influx of blood, he then proceeded to attempt to drown his sorrows in alcohol. He never noticed when Xander had returned to check on him, he'd drunk himself into unconsciousness.

The Bronze…

Spike smelled her as she approached. She smelled like cinnamon and magic. The cushion next to him depressed.

"What do you want Red?" Spike's voice was weary as he acknowledged her presence.

She didn't answer for long moments causing the blond vampire to tense. "Are you all right?" The soft question was finally voiced, very softly.

"I'm fine." His flat tone of voice did not invite any further questions.

"Did you at least kill the other guy?" The leading question nearly earned her a snarl. Willow watched the battered face carefully.

"No." She waited but the single word was all he gave.

Spike gritted his teeth and waited for the next question. He didn't have long to wait. "Does Buffy know something beat you up?" Willow attempted one last time to give her friend an out.

"Yes." Spike hissed "But I don't think the Slayer is overly concerned about it."

Willow nodded and ducked her head. Her flaming hair swung down to shield her features as she thought. She bit her lip fretfully. It was evident that Spike didn't want anyone to know how he'd gotten so beat up. She wondered when it had happened. A random memory surfaced and she knew.

Two days earlier…

Xander and Anya had been acting strange, Willow noticed. She'd been researching ways to track Warren and his friends on the computer while Anya conducted business as usual. The blonde ex-demon looked meaningfully at her fiancé when he walked into the shop, his face creased in a frown.

"Did you go?" Anya asked quietly. Willow had to strain to hear them.

Xander nodded and looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. Dawn was at the table doing homework, her head bobbing up and down to the music blaring in her ears from headphones attached to a cd player.

"Well?" Anya prompted.

"Passed out." Xander answered cryptically.

"From the injuries?" Anya's question shocked the witch.

The male Scooby shook his head. "No. Jack Daniels. Can't say as I can blame him." Xander noticed that Willow's typing on the computer keyboard had ceased. "I'll tell you later." He told Anya. He moved over to the research table and swung a chair out to sit in it.

"Hey, Wills. How's the nerd search going?" He asked cheerfully although his eyes remained serious and concerned.

Willow looked up, pretending to just notice his presence. "Slow. One of them is really good with the computer so they've covered their tracks really well. But they can't hide from me." She smiled as she gazed at her best friend.

"Where's the Buffster?" Xander avoided her eyes to look around the shop for the slayer.

"Early patrol." Anya answered from her counter. She closed the register and left the counter to lock the front door and flip the closed sign over. Xander nodded as he watched her move around the room.

"Has she mentioned whether or not Spike is helping with that?" Xander asked almost too casually.

Willow thought about it then shook her head. "She hasn't said anything about Spike in a couple of days. Come to think about it, she's been kinda quiet about him. She was all ranty about him being a nuisance but now it's like she's pretending he's not around any more."

Xander closed his eyes and sighed. Anya quietly walked over and took the seat next to her fiancé. She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. Willow watched the exchange in silence wondering what was going on.

At the Bronze…

Willow's wide green eyes flew up to scan Spike's remote features. She watched as his jaw began to pulse as if he were grinding his teeth. 'Goddess.' She thought. 'Buffy did that.'

Spike turned his head to stare at Willow. He liked the redheaded witch. She'd been remarkably forgiving over the whole kidnapping incident several years ago. But he really didn't want to get into a conversation with her over his injuries. He just wished they'd hurry up and heal. Damned animal blood diet made healing so bloody slow. His dark blue gaze held Willow's, pleading with her not to pry.

She watched the emotions swirl in the sapphire depths for long minutes. With a visible gulp, she ducked her head. "We're having a birthday party for Buffy this weekend. Do you want to come?"