AN: Everyone is human. Though this basically stars Spike and Dawn... Spike kidnapped Dawn and things are happening. Enjoy.
He woke up to an empty bed. His hand went to the spot next to him; it was cold. That means she had been gone for long. Fear crawled up his body as he wiped his eyes from sleep. A yawn escaped his lips as he slipped out of bed and out of his room. He had to find her.
The first stop was her room. It was empty. Then he checked her bathroom and was left searching still. He looked in the other rooms that were on the second floor, then went for the kitchen. Of course the last place he searched was where he found her-the study.
She was sitting on the floor, her knees drawled up close to her body. Her back was facing him, so he couldn't actually see her.
"Looked bloody everywhere for you," he stated in a gentle voice so he wouldn't scare her.
She gave a small shrug and rested her head on her shoulders.
He walked over to face her and tried not to panic. One arm was dangled in front of her and the other held a razor blade. It glinted under the fire's roar.
"Why don't you hand me that?" he asked with an anxious sound in his voice.
Fiddling with the razor, she didn't glance up. It came to surprise to her at first, but now she had gotten used to it. She really didn't care. Apathy was drenched in her veins and nothing mattered anymore. It's not like she woke up that way, it progressed over time. But then it hit her after she woke up: she didn't care that Spike knew. She didn't care if Angelus himself came down and killed her. She just didn't care. So she handed him the razor.
The way she transfered it to him was at an angle that the sharp part was directed at her palm. It sliced into the skin.
"You're bleeding."
Looking up at him with dead eyes, she shrugged.
Deciding to change the subject, he asked, "Hungry?"
"Yes," she admitted with a dull glance.
Bringing out a frying pan, some bread, and cheese Spike made two perfect grilled cheese sandwiches. Dawn tore into hers, only taking time to sip some milk in the middle.
After she was done with eating, she quietly sat there, looking at her plate. The brunette felt really cold and she still couldn't get over the fact that Spike knew everything. He also had the only real razor blade she owned; the others were just broken fragments of them. She'd have to use other things if she wanted to hit deep: scissors, sharp fragments of glass, and knives.
"Do you want more?" Spike's voice dragged her out of thought. She gave him a small shake of the head which meant no.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
She just gave another shrug.
He threw his hands down on the table, startling her. Tired of her mope-y self, he decided to do something about it.
"Goddamnit! Just get over this attitude all ready!" he growled.
He didn't know what to do, so his irritability was getting the best of him. He was regretting even telling her hew knew; he just wanted the subdued brunette gone. Wanted her to act alive again.
"You're such an ass," Dawn commented and got up from her chair. She went up stairs.
Spike sighed, his head in his hands. Too much of her blood was spilled because of him. He didn't mean to be such an ass. He'd just never dealt with this before. She was different. He let out a snort. Always liked the different ones, he did. Throwing down the paper that was in his hands, he got up and ran to her room-hopefully to stop her before she did anything stupid.
As he opened the door, Dawn's eyes went wide. Scissors were in her hands and they were almost scoring into her skin. She reacted quickly, but he was faster. Before the blade could touch her skin, he grabbed her wrists. He was able to force her arms up above her head.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked, trying to push him away from her.
"Saving you from yourself," he grunted.
The young girl was surprisingly stronger then she appeared. With her arms useless, she was able to squirm and kick freely. This had gotten her quite a couple of goods hits at Spike, but he was able to control her enough, so she didn't knock him down.
"Let go of me!"
He backed her into the wall, his grasp still on her wrist. Taking both of her hands in one of his he took her grip off the scissors. Throwing it at the other end of the room, Dawn broke out into dry sobs.
Tiny fists pounded themselves into his chest.
"I hate you," she cried, still hitting him with all her might. "Hate you."
He tried to grab her into a hug, but she kept fighting against it.
"Don't touch me," the brunette wailed, but Spike was able to wrap his arms around the tiny girl. Fingernails tore at his shirt.
He dragged her down to the floor and placed her in his lap. She grabbed a fist full of his shirt and embraced her head into it.
"Still hate you," she snuffled when she appeared out of his shirt.
Her eyes were red, but she hadn't shed any tears yet. She was nervously biting her bottom lip. He ran his fingers through her tangled hair as she nuzzled her head against his chest.
"Rather you hate me, then yourself," he softly admitted.
"Why do you even care so much?" she questioned baffeled.
Their faces were close, almost touching. He could feel her hot breath on his face. A tiny pink tongue came out and swept at her matching pink lips. He tried to hold back a moan deep in his throat.
"'Cause you're different," he murmured. "And 'cause Daddy doesn't need no broken goods when he pays for you."
Her face got hard.
"Daddy doesn't care. He'd rather have me killed than have me back."
"Don't think like that," he whispered, knowing it was true. It was what he and Angelus was talking about the day before.
He leaned his head forward, so their lips were inches apart. She was so close... so close... Her eyes were hooded and a serene look was on her face. So close...
Reality slapped into him like a ton of bricks. He guided the kiss higher and placed it on her forehead.
"Let's put you to bed again, eh?" he said and stood up with her in his arms. He seemed to be doing that lately.
"Can I sleep in your bed?" she begged with wide eyes and a quivering lip.
How in the hell could he say no to that?
He tucked her into his bed and brought the covers up to her neck.
"I'll wake you up for dinner, love," he told her.
Outside the door, he slammed his head back into the door. He wasn't going to kill her. Wouldn't accept all in the money in the world to do it. Shaking his head, he went down stairs, determined to find a plan to help her.
Oh my god, I'm soo sorry. After my last fic, I transfered 'ships, and hell, even shows and ratings! I've been writing Harry Potter fics over on Anyway, PassionateDarkness has gotten me back into Buffy fics, so hopefully I can finish this out. What do you guys want to see in this fic? I knowSpawn goodness, maybe some more angst? A big duel with Angelus? Let me here it!
3KC
