Straight on 'Til Morning

"Who does she think she is?" Buffy slammed the vampire into the crypt wall, driving the stake through his heart without waiting for an answer. Not that the vampire could have helped her anyway. Glaring at the dust on her arms, she brushed it off angrily and started back through the cemetery. There was one more fresh grave that could be spitting up a new member of the undead some time that night. She perched on top of a nearby tombstone, staring at the ground forlornly. She'd left Dawn oohing and ahhing over Faith's transformation, headed to her bedroom and climbed straight out the window to find something to kill.

"Maybe Ethan did brain damage along with that face. Of course, she's always been a total psycho. I'm sure jail only made her crazier." The stake tapped against the stone beneath her, making white pockmarks along the surface. "He probably won't be interested. She's not his type." Frustrated, she began chipping at the tombstone in earnest. "Except that Dru was crazy and a murderer. Which actually describes Faith pretty well. So maybe she is his type. But he is so not her type. Blond? Hello! Even though it's not natural. And he's not even a good guy. Although he is my ex, which is probably enough for her. That seems to be her type, my boyfriends."

Needing to move, she hopped off of the stone and began pacing at the foot of the grave. "And the whole Dawn bonding thing? What was that? Can't she come back to Sunnydale without taking over my life?" No answer. "Did you see the way they were? He was all comforty and sweet. It'll be all right, Faith. You're beautiful, Faith. You look like an angel." She stopped her exaggerated mimicry to turn back toward the grave with a sigh. "It's none of my business. They're both adults. They can do whatever they want."

Dirt shifted. She glanced down, waiting impatiently as the vampire crawled out of the grave. "Could you hurry it up a little? I'd like to get this done sometime tonight." The vampire just growled, standing up and baring his fangs.

"Have to let them make their own mistakes." She ducked one swing, clipping him with a sharp kick. "Let her make a fool of herself. She'll learn." The vamp grunted as she connected her knee with his solar plexus. "And I am not jealous! Not at all." Bone crunched against her boot, knocking his head to the side and sending him sprawling onto the lawn. "She can have him! I don't care." Pulling him up, she threw him against one of the taller stones and began pummeling him with her fists. "He's not." Punch. "My vampire." He tried to grab hold of her wrists. "Anymore!"

"And I don't care that he was Mr. Sensitivity." Dust scattered around the stake in her hand. "He used to be that way with me too. Sometimes. When I let him." She sighed and sat back down. Shuddering, she tried to block out the idea of Faith and Spike. Together. Not something she wanted to think about. Ever. There was no way. It wasn't possible. They couldn't, wouldn't. But what if they were? Right now. She shook her head vigorously, trying to clear away images of blonde hair and pale skin. Strong, vampire hands that were probably all over Faith at that very moment.

"Stupid vampire." She kicked at the ground and decided to head home. Any baddie that got in her way was in for a big surprise. Her rancor surprised her, leaving her stomach churning and a few of her emotional issues clamoring for attention. She didn't need this right now. These weird feelings of anger and frustration, and something she refused to label jealousy, even though the little voice in her head wouldn't agree to call it anything else.

"I'm home!" She closed the door behind her. "Patrol was fine. Nothing weird." No answer. Maybe they'd all gone out. Maybe everyone had a hot date but her. Including Faith. There was that feeling again.

"Buffy?" Giles appeared at the top of the stairs, starting down the steps with a book in hand. "I spoke with the Council earlier today."

"Big cover-up?"

"Surprisingly, no." Giles moved into the living room and took a seat on the couch. "They were quite upfront about Elliot and his intentions. They believed that he would fail. And they were quite apologetic about any trouble he may have caused."

"They apologized? That's a first. What about Ethan?" She hoped Giles didn't notice the involuntary lilt in her voice when she said his name. It had been the right thing. Ethan would have gotten out again and he would have come back with another insane scheme to hurt them. Just one more weight on her shoulders for her to bear, alone. Always alone.

"They didn't realize who he was, apparently. Elliot used the name Ethan Smythe."

"Do they know anything about what's making the demons wig out?"

"Iverson was quite vague, something about dimensional disturbances. He said they don't have any answers as of yet. But I have a few theories." Giles raised his book. "There has been an increase in the number of bizarre happenings at various places around the world. All similar to the Hellmouth. Epicenters of mystical energy have a normal energy level, like a frequency. It's possible that the demons may be responding to a change in the regular energy levels. It could also account for the increase in activity in these places."

"So they're picking up some sort of evil radio waves?"

"Essentially. I would like Willow to take a look at some of these. Her grasp of physics is slightly better than mine."

"She's probably out on a date. Like everyone else but me." Buffy curled up in the chair, not caring that her boots were on the furniture.

"Dawn will be back soon. She ran out for some snacks. At least I think that's what she told me." He looked at her curiously. "Is something bothering you, Buffy?"

"Just the usual moral quagmires that abound in my life." She shrugged, not really wanting to delve into her own thoughts. "And the whole thing with Dawn kinda freaked me out. It's easy to forget she's not really my sister. Strictly speaking."

"Was she able to tell you anything?"

"That demons can hear it too. At least, Spike could." That brought more of those images she was trying so hard to stamp out. Why couldn't they have just stayed in New Orleans?

"It's possible that she's hearing the very thing that is causing this strange behavior. You said it started recently."

"Things have been getting dicey around here for longer than that. Since Cara got here." Buffy frowned. "Maybe it's the three Slayers thing."

"Perhaps." Giles sighed and put his book on the coffee table. "I don't know if we'll be able to find anything else about the Key. Nothing more than we already know at any rate. There's a complete history of the different incarnations and the monks who guarded it but not much on the actual properties. Living energy matrix, green. That's about all we have."

"Too bad Spike's not chipped anymore. I never thought to have him hit Dawn." At Giles' frown she elaborated. "To see if she's human. Or at least human enough for the chip to fire."

"Yes. That would have been...informative. Though there might be other, less violent, ways."

"Willow could probably do something." Buffy shifted in the chair. "She usually only does magic when there isn't any other way but I'm sure we could convince her that this was one of those rock, hard place deals."

"There are Dawn's feelings to be considered, Buffy. She's still a young girl despite her insistence otherwise and she's quite sensitive about these things."

"I know, Giles. And we all assumed that when the monks said they put the Key into human form that it made Dawn human. But we don't know that. If she's hearing some sort of demon talk show then there has to be something different about her. And I'm not going to hide it from her. Not this time." She propped her feet up on the coffee table, wondering if her mother was rolling in her grave at the scuff marks on the wood. "Crisis has passed. Ethan's gone and the Council's not trying to kill us anymore. Please tell me they're not going to keep trying."

"No. Of course not. They never intended it to go that far."

"And there's a bridge in Brooklyn for sale." Buffy shook her head with disbelief. "They've been nothing but pains in my ass since they twisted your arm to stick me with those needles. Have I mentioned that I still haven't forgiven them for locking me up with crazy?"

"This is an entirely new Council."

"And not exactly trying hard to do better than the last one. Maybe they'll get themselves blown into little pieces too."

"Buffy."

"They were willing to kill us all. You, Dawn, Xander. Doesn't do much for the whole trust factor."

"I was advised to speak to the new Head Watcher tomorrow." He glanced at his watch. "Clair Iverson is a reasonable and intelligent man. I'm sure that changes will be made." He only sounded half convinced.

The front door swung open and Dawn smiled as she bounced through the doorway, a shopping bag dangling from one hand. "Sugary goodness!" She held up the bag. "Is this the serious discussion about me that I'm not supposed to hear?"

"Come here, Dawn." Buffy couldn't help smiling. "We were talking about you. And the Council."

"Wankers." Dawn took a seat next to Giles. "Can we kill them? Or would that be wrong?"

"A world of wrong. But Giles says they're not trying to kill us anymore."

"And we believe that why?"

Giles looked into the bag, eying its contents suspiciously. "When I spoke with them, they acknowledged that Elliot was out of control. Iverson had been trying to convince him to seek professional help for some time."

"He did. Went by the name of Ethan Rayne." Giles shot Buffy a look over the top of his glasses.

"And what about me?" Dawn stopped fidgeting for a moment, her eyes turning serious.

"We've just started looking. I'm sure we'll find something," Giles said reassuringly. "Nothing to be worried about for now. Let us know if anything changes."

"Cool." Dawn pulled the bag onto her lap and began digging through the contents. "Jelly Bellys, gummy worms, and some of those peach chewy things with all the powdery stuff."

"Planning a sugar binge?"

"To help me with my studying. Keeps me awake when the boredom hits."

"You'll rot your teeth."

"I brush. And I floss." Dawn ripped open one of the bags. "Worms?"

"No, thank you." Giles waved away the offer and turned his attention to his book.

"Sis?"

"Maybe later." Buffy hesitated. "So...you looked like you were having fun. With Faith."

"Yeah. You should have seen her. All worried and nervous. Like she'd never been on a date before." Dawn paused. "Not that it was a date since he didn't even know she was coming over. Good surprise, huh?"

"Dawn. I really don't think you should encourage Faith like that."

"To what? Get all dressed up? She looked good, didn't she? Even with all the scary cuts and bruises."

"To have sex with a vampire." Buffy winced when Giles looked up, staring at them with surprise. She almost groaned when he removed his glasses and began polishing them. "It's really not the smartest thing to do, Dawnie. And Faith's vulnerable right now. She's been through something."

"Do I want to know what's going on?"

"Nothing bad," Dawn said quickly. "I think it's romantic. It's not like they're getting married. Just a little sex. No harm, no foul."

Buffy put her feet squarely on the floor. "You're missing the point. Sex plus vampires equals bad. What if his soul has one of those happiness clauses? Did you think of that?"

Dawn snorted. "In case you never noticed, even when Spike was all grrr, he was never that evil. Not like Angelus. Spike wouldn't hurt Faith. He never hurt me."

"He had a chip."

"He didn't want to."

"Because he was in love with me. Which he isn't any more." Buffy was surprised at the pain in her voice. He really wasn't in love with her. He wasn't her vampire anymore. It wasn't supposed to hurt. "So there's nothing holding him back if his soul goes AWOL."

Giles shook his head with disbelief. "Is there something about Spike that I don't understand? Some influence he has over women that turns their brains into mush?" Buffy figured he was two seconds away from making that clucking noise with his tongue.

"It's the cheekbones," Dawn offered as she bit one end off of a gummy worm.

"Maybe the whole bad boy thing," Buffy suggested weakly.

"He's still a vampire. Soul or no. It's completely beyond my comprehension that you, all of you, continue to overlook that fact."

"All part of the charm package." Dawn stood up and headed toward the stairs. "You need to relax. Faith can take care of herself. And if you ask me, they're perfect for each other."

Buffy waited for the sound of her sister's door closing before she turned back to Giles. "There's nothing you can do now, Giles. The damage is already done."

"I really wonder if this whole world would be better off without him. If you could have been spared some pain if he'd never come to Sunnydale at all."

"Not to mention having to put up with him in your bathtub. And watching Passions with him."

"I thought I told you never to mention that again."

"And it's not like this hasn't happened before. Slayer sleeps with vampire. Not the end of the world. What could possibly go wrong?" She winced. "Never mind. I'm sure another looming apocalypse will make me eat those words. Is sex ever a good thing?"

"Apparently not in Sunnydale."

The walk was over too soon and Faith was standing in front of the apartment door frozen in place. How had she let Dawn talk her into this? She'd only meant to ask if Buffy was still interested. Just an innocent question.

"Fuck. This is crazy." She almost ran her fingers through her hair, stopping only millimeters away as she remembered not to mess up Dawn's hard work. What if he wasn't interested? What if he didn't want her? Why was she even thinking about it? Spike was a member of the Buffy Boyfriend Club. She'd promised herself she wouldn't do this. With a sigh, she sat down on the top step and watched the cars pass by.

Maybe she could go to the Bronze. Or patrol. Stay out late enough that Dawn would be asleep. She wouldn't have to admit that she hadn't actually seen Spike. That was ridiculous. She touched the necklace around her neck lightly, still not sure what to make of Dawn's attention. Fussing over her, brushing her hair. Faith's mother had brushed her hair a few times when she was too high to be angry and bitter. When she had laughed and smiled, working until Faith's hair shone and treating her like a daughter. Just bits and pieces of memories that were painful in an entirely different way. It felt strange to be treated like she belonged. Like a sister.

"One more thing B has that I don't," she told the night softly. When she had arrived in Sunnydale with nothing but fear and a duffle bag of clothes, it had seemed like a fairytale. Buffy was a princess, with a mother and sister and friends willing to fight at her side. Faith had hated Buffy because she'd wanted those things so badly. Rationally, she knew that Buffy wasn't perfect and her life had been hard in a lot of ways Faith didn't understand. But jealousy had still eaten away at her until there was nothing left but rage. It wasn't fair. She'd learned in jail that life wasn't fair. Life was a bitch.

She didn't want to be jealous of Buffy anymore. As long as she was, her jealousy would control her. The way Mayor Wilkins had controlled her with kind words and affection, the way her despair and her rage had controlled her after she had woken up from her coma. Leaving her trapped by her own life. She wasn't going to let anything control her ever again.

Glancing back at the door, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Should she be helping Buffy patrol? Sacred duty and all that. If she just walked away, no one would be the wiser and Spike would never have to know. She would never have to wonder if he was settling for her because he couldn't have Buffy. She would never have to feel the sting of his rejection. If she just walked away.

Apparently her legs had other plans. They wouldn't move. Conflicted, she rubbed the hem of the skirt lightly between her fingers, savoring the whisper of the fabric in the quiet night. She wasn't asking for undying love or commitment. Just a roll and tumble. She could have gone to the Bronze and found half a dozen willing young men. Or not. Now that her face looked like a horror mask. Is that why she was here? Because she knew Spike would look past the marks on her skin. What was she looking for? Comfort? Assurance?

"I'm not ready to do this." She shook her head and stood up reluctantly, brushing the bits of dust and gravel off of Dawn's skirt carefully.

"Oh hello! Are you here to see William?" The cheerful voice startled Faith.

"Uh." Faith glanced at the round, pepper haired woman with the friendly smile and decided to play along. Did she mean Spike? "Yeah. No answer. I was just leaving."

"Please stay. He really needs someone to look after him, poor dear." The woman held out a large Tupperware. "I think he had a little too much to drink last night, if you know what I mean." She winked at Faith, blushing like a little girl who shouldn't have known what a hangover was.

Faith smiled brightly and took the Tupperware from the woman's outstretched hands, "Thanks. I'm sure he'll really appreciate this, Mrs?"

"Call me Judy. I'm the landlady." Judy the Landlady patted Faith's hand. "I was so glad when that package arrived for him today. I put it inside the door. So many tenants just disappear here in Sunnydale without a word or a by-your-leave. And he was such a nice boy. I just loved his column in the Press. I do hope he writes more of them soon. Such a sparkling wit, that boy." She headed down the pathway into the darkness, leaving Faith standing awkwardly with a large Tupperware bowl of something warm.

It smelled good and reminded Faith that she hadn't eaten. Spike wouldn't mind. Shaking herself firmly, she knocked on the door. No answer. The doorknob twisted in her hand, swinging inward with a gentle nudge.

"Spike? It's me. Faith." The apartment was dark. Clumsily, she searched for the light switch with one elbow, blinking as the lights flickered on. "Spike?" She left the Tupperware in the kitchen and tiptoed down the hallway to the bedroom. Turning on the light revealed the vampire sprawled over the bed, still fully dressed, with a pillow held firmly over his head.

"Spike? Are you alright?" Her only answer was a groan. Frowning, she moved to the edge of the bed and tugged at the pillow. "Come on, big guy. You get some spiked blood or something? No pun intended of course." She poked him lightly in the ribs.

"Bloody hell!" He pulled away from her, clutching his ribs as the pillow fell away.

"What?"

"That fucking hurts." Closing his eyes, he turned his head away. "Everything fucking hurts."

"What happened to you?" Faith pushed up the edge of this t-shirt, shocked to see that his pale skin was dark with bruises. Running her fingers carefully over his chest, she decided that half his ribs were broken. "What the hell did you do? Play chicken with a Mack truck?"

"Jumped out a bloody window."

"When?"

"Looking for you."

"Spike, that was days ago." She frowned again, turning his face to see more bruising over his eyes and jaw. "You look like shit."

"Thanks." Bloodshot eyes blinked at her once before he tried to pull the pillow back over his head. "If the crazy lady comes back, I'm not here."

"Already ahead of you. Interception successful." She bit down on her fingernail thoughtfully. "Do you have any blood here?"

"No."

"Where do I get some?"

His voice was muffled. "Butcher's closed. Willy's place."

"Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

"Do I bloody look like I'm going anywhere?"

"At least your sense of humor isn't broken." Faith patted his hand hesitantly. "My turn to take care of you, dead boy. Just relax until I get back." He groaned into the pillow.

Dawn hadn't been quite right about the shoes. They weren't ideal slaying footwear but they held their own as she hurried through the cemeteries to the demon hangout across town. Most of the demons at the bar left her alone anyway. Probably the new look.

"Blood. Fresh." She glanced once at the bartender, wondering what species he was and wishing she'd paid more attention to Giles. Not really, but somehow it felt better to think she should be wishing she'd listened to his lectures about demons.

"Human?"

She faltered, unsure what to ask for. Would feeding Spike human blood mess with his head? "What else do you have?"

"Pork, beef, a few exotics."

"Pigs blood then. To go." She glanced around nervously as she waited for the bartender to return. It was quiet. A few vamps and some random demons who didn't look familiar.

"Got three bags left."

"I'll take 'em." She slid the money across the counter and piled the bags of blood in the crook of her arm. Almost home free. Halfway to the door, a vampire stepped out in front of her, blocking her exit.

"Hey." The vamp smiled at her. "You're pretty little thing. Except for a bit of damage."

"A bit? Have you had your eyes checked lately?" She tried to step past him.

"Won't be lookin' at your face anyway."

"Right about that, asshole. You won't be looking at anything if you don't get out of my way."

He laughed, his buddies joining in and halting their game to watch. "I like the feisty ones. They fight so good when they're dying."

"Are all vamps morons? Or is it just you?"

"What's the blood for, little girl?"

"A friend. Maybe you've heard of him. Goes by the name of Spike." She saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "And if I don't get this blood to him pronto, there won't be enough of you left to dust by the time he gets through with you. Assuming I don't kick your sorry, undead ass first."

"Hey." The vampire held up his hands and backed away. "Spike's a good guy. Now that he's gotten rid of that chip and all. A friend of his is a friend of mine."

"Yeah. Whatever." She stopped trying to think of a way to get the pool cue from his friend and use it for a stake. Much as she wanted to wipe those smug grins off of their faces, she didn't have time. Maybe she'd come back later and show them what a Slayer was. That sounded like fun.

"When did Spike get back in town, man?"

"How should I know?"

"Why's he got a human pickin' up pig blood for him anyway?"

"Do I look like fucking Einstein?" Alvin, now known as Cracker, had never been known for his patience even when he was alive. He'd chosen the nickname because he cracked his knuckles constantly and it sounded much better than Alvin. His sidekick, Benny, was a smaller, younger vampire who hadn't amounted to much with a heartbeat and wasn't on the track to greatness now that he was dead.

"Should we tip Cable off? He was looking for Spike." Benny looked around nervously. He reminded Alvin of a mouse, always twitching and wiggling.

"Course we will."

"Do you think he'll let us in on the big stuff? You know. What's goin' down."

"You're pathetic, Benny. Talk like a normal demon."

"I was just saying."

"And you should have kept your stupid mouth shut." Alvin smacked the back of Benny's head with the cue. "I'll tell Cable that Spike's here. You just mind your own business."

"Just saying, is all." Benny rubbed the welt at the back of his skull. "He's been promising that something big is coming. Figured we could be in on it."

"We will." Alvin shrugged and turned back to the pool game. "Break." The brightly colored spheres scattered over the green felt as he wondered how much the information would be worth to the New Orleans magnate. Maybe enough to do some traveling. He'd always wanted to find out if European women tasted better than American women.

"The Powers wish to discuss the arrangement with you." Their emissary was a slender, elegant woman with green-gold skin, grey eyes, and black hair pulled tightly into a braid. Dressed in robes that bore the signature crests of the Powers, she was lovely and regal. And she was boring the Incarnation of Truth to tears.

"I have nothing to say to them." Alatheia waved her hand, trying to return her concentration to the miniature castle she was building. Lovely hobby. Took her mind off of the screeching hypocrisies of man.

"They are concerned about their Champion."

"What about him?"

"It has been brought to their attention that there is another vampire with a soul. The prophecies speak of only one." The emissary took another step forward, looking around the thatched cottage nervously. She probably would have been more comfortable surrounded by pillars and pink fog. When would the Powers realize that truth, in its purest form, was dirty and messy and more often than not, ugly as sin?

"Wouldn't be the first time some musty old scroll was ninety nine percent real and one percent hoax." Alatheia glanced up, peering down her nose at the woman who had invaded her haven.

"What will happen to their Champion?"

"Don't know. Don't care."

"They are concerned that Balance will be lost."

"They're embarrassed because they've been running for the wrong goal line. Don't give me this bullshit. They're covering their asses and they know it." The Incarnation shook her head. They still hadn't learned, in the thousands of years they'd been sending their messenger girls. You can't lie to Truth Itself.

"It is not for me to speculate their motives."

"There's nothing to tell them. All bets are off. No one saw this coming. Not even me." Alatheia paused thoughtfully before tapping another miniscule brick into place. "There have been rumblings. Rumors of a summit. I can't get involved even if I wanted to. Which I don't. It's perfectly ridiculous to me."

"Will they be invited to attend this meeting?"

"Most likely. All the faiths will be represented." She gave the girl a wry smile. "We will be there as well, to oversee the happenings. Although I still don't understand why the fuss over one little world. It's not like they don't fall apart all the time."

"Such a refreshing perspective." A man's voice, smooth and resonate, filled the cottage.

"Chronos, you old bear. What brings you to my neck of the woods?" She motioned to the girl. "She was just leaving." The emissary took the hint and vanished. "Powers again. Always trying to sway things to their side."

"You agree with the conditions of the bargain?"

"I don't agree or disagree. I see what is. The whole and unvarnished truth. You know that." She fluffed the artificial green of a tiny pine tree before sticking it forcefully into the fake hillside.

"You don't believe it defeats the very purpose?" Chronos settled into a chair, watching her carefully.

"The difference between truth and belief is infinitesimal. A grain of sand, the farthest reach of nothingness. All in that space between what is and what is believed." She pulled her glasses off, turning to face him. "You don't agree." Her voice betrayed her surprise at his sentimental attachment to the human dimension. "You like that world."

"It's the martinis. My weakness."

"You've been there too long, friend. You've let their humanity rub off on you."

"Is that wrong?"

"You cannot interfere, Chronos. You'll rip apart the seams of reality if you do. All worlds will be lost instead of just one." Alatheia waved her glasses at him, feeling rather like a schoolmarm reprimanding a precocious child.

"There is precedence for action."

"One! A single case in your very long life and it left entire dimensions in ruin." With a frown, she sat down beside him, her model completely forgotten by the disturbing visit. "I see your intentions but I don't understand them." She could see that he genuinely and humanly cared for the world and its beings. It was quite vexing.

"Then you should see that I believe this world is worth saving. Regardless of the costs."

"The vampire. This is because of the vampire." Alatheia stared at him, a stranger wearing the face of Chronos. It was impossible for a lowly demon to have inspired even an Incarnation to take up the cause.

"There has to be a way, Alatheia. There is always a loophole." Chronos smiled and patted her hand. "And if anyone knows of a loophole, even the smallest one, it's you."

Alatheia pulled away, startled and unnerved by his request. Moving back to her castle to mask her disquiet, she worked in silence for several minutes, concentrating only on placing the small chunks of stone and wood. Almost subconsciously, she reached out for the threads of truth, following each of them to their conclusion. There were rules that had to be obeyed, laws to be followed. Each action had its unavoidable consequence. Inescapable. Unless. She paused as she touched one of the strands. Her hands stilled over the moat and she turned around slowly. Some things were set in stone, others in clay. Even those that appeared immovable could be shaken if a single pebble was pushed over so slightly in another direction.

"There might be a way." She began cautiously. "I only see what lies conceal."

"But there is hope."

"It is possible." With a tired sigh, she shook her head. "If you have had success threading the eye of a needle with a camel or nailing jello to a tree, then you can have the hope you seek. There is a loophole. Just one. I hope you know what you're asking for."

The pounding in my head seems to lessen as Faith helps me swallow a glass of blood, one hand supporting my head. Irony never ceases to show her hand in my life. Has it only been days since I had done the same for the Slayer? With a shudder, I let Faith maneuver me into a sitting position, pillow behind me against the headboard.

"I'm gonna bring the TV in here. You can veg."

"Thanks." I didn't bother trying to smile. The smell of her lotion was a balm to my raw senses. For lacking of anything else I can do, I listen as she rearranged the sparse furniture; moving the table to the end of the bed, carrying the television from the living room where it had been collecting dust, fighting with the cables. In my mind, I can almost picture her. Almost. My brain is still too fuzzy to really focus on anything.

"There. When you're feeling better. I'm gonna eat." She places the remote next to my hand and leaves again. I can smell chicken noodle soup. At least it won't go to waste. I feel the bed shift as she climbs onto it and settles in next to me. "I put the package on the kitchen counter. Mind if I watch something? I'll keep it low."

"Go ahead." My voice scratches at my throat and I try not to wince as the television comes to life and the steady chatter of voices assaults my ears. I should have asked her to pick up a bottle of whiskey. Make that a case. Settling for blood, I reach for the glass, following the smell.

"I'll get that." I can feel the warmth of her skin as she reaches over me to refill the glass. She smells of magnolias and chicken noodle soup. Heaven. She presses the glass into my hand and this time I try to smile. How hard can it be? Ouch. Damn.

"What're you watching?" The least I can do is be sociable.

"Infomercial. Not much on. Looks like a couple of movies later. Horror stuff."

"Always need more of that."

"Yeah. Fake blood, fake vampires. It's all good." She's quiet again and I can hear her finishing the bowl of soup. Did I even have bowls? I guess so. Good for me. If I don't move, not even a blink, then I can keep the agony to a minimum. For the first time in my unlife, I'm not bored. Hurts too much to be bored.

"Everyone okay?" I manage to croak.

"Five by five. B sent that bastard off with the men in blue. Giles is in research mode." The mattress shakes a little as she ditches the empty bowl and repositions herself on the bed.

"Home sweet home."

"Yeah. Won't be sorry to see it go. Again." Another shift. "Do you think we'll ever really get out of this place? I've tried. Can't seem to stay away."

"Hope so." Don't shrug, don't shrug. God, that hurts. "Can't seem to get out myself." More silence as she flips through the channels in search of something to watch. "You don't have to stay. You've already done more than enough."

"Not a word from you, dead boy." There's laughter in her voice. "You took care of me. I'm gonna take care of you. Don't argue."

"Yes ma'am." I'm relieved. I can't even get out of bed and I don't know how long this is going to last. If my wounds are days old, they must have been worse than I thought. How was I even able to move around? Does my life always take the most twisted and confusing path available? There's got to be someone out there thinking up new ways to drive Spike around the bend. Too much thinking. Hurts.

"Need to lay down?"

"I'm good." Laying down meant moving and moving meant more screaming from muscles I didn't know I had. The background noise changes and she's back to cycling through the stations. Slowly, I raise the glass of blood to my lips, shaking as I begin to drink.

"Here." Her hand covers mine, steadying my grip. I can feel her warmth soaking into my skin and muscles. After I finish, she stays at my side, one arm slipping around mine and spreading heat through my side.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Then we'd have to do the whole big thing about how you saved my life and cleaned me up. Not pretty. Lots of tears and hugging."

"Can't do that." Tired, I lean against her, my head resting on her shoulder. "Not dignified."

"Yeah." There's something bothering her, I can hear it in her voice.

"Bored?"

She responds too quickly. "No."

"Liar."

"Not bored. A little worried is all." She slips her fingers through mine. "You're thrashed, Spike, and it doesn't make any sense."

"Didn't know you cared."

"Crazy vamp." Her fingers brush against my forehead, pushing aside a wayward curl. "I owe you."

"Good." I can tell she's surprised by the sharp intake of breath. "Cause I need you. Can't even move without you." Silence. Her heartbeat speeds up, sounding loud and strong in my ears. Finally she moves against me and I can feel her fingers along the hem of my t-shirt.

"Try to sleep, okay?" She's gently working my t-shirt up over my chest and arms. Clenching my teeth against the pain only brings more pain in my jaw but it keeps me from the humiliation of moaning. Boots are next to go. She helps me down onto my back, thankfully leaving my jeans intact, and pulls the blankets up over my chest. The bed quivers as she moves away.

"Faith."

"Yeah?"

"Stay. Please." For a moment I wonder if she's already gone. Then I feel her weight as she stretches out beside me. Warm fabric and warm skin brushes against my arm and side. Heat soothes and eases the aching in my bones. I listen as her heartbeat slows to the even pulse of sleep.

Finally, I open my eyes as far as I can without excruciating pain. The overhead light is off, leaving the flickering screen to illuminate the room. Carefully turning my head to the side, I see that Willow has done her magic. The bruises are gone and only a faint network of red welts remains. Her short hair has been styled and curled. Dawn, most likely. That makes me smile again. She shivers in her sleep and I force myself to reach across and pull the blanket up over her bare shoulder. What was she wearing anyway? Couldn't be more than a handkerchief and a bit of string. There are pearls around her neck and in her ears. Strange. Burrowing into the blankets, one arm slides across my stomach as she pulls herself closer to me. Ouch.

Exhausted from that miniscule movement, I rest my head back on the pillow and stare up into the sputtering shadows cast by the television. It was peaceful. Restful. The pain was lessening and maybe, just maybe, Hell was slipping away. Could I dream of heaven? Ever hope to find a place of eternal peace rather than eternal torment. Would I be damned with the rest of the vampires? Would I be judged as a human? Was there anything at all after death? Buffy had spoken of a place of peace and comfort. Could it be possible for me to find that place? A demon. A vampire.

It was ridiculous speculation of course. I was no longer just a demon with a human face and the same rules wouldn't apply. I didn't even know which set of conventions applied to anything now. I was a moth crawling out of cocoon, spreading wings I didn't have before, seeing the world through new eyes. Apples and oranges.

Strip away anything resembling a friend, remove my leash, tear everything I care about from my hands; what was left? At the end of the night, when I hid from the rising sun because it stood for life and I stood for death, what was left? Four years ago the answer would have been nothing. Without Sunnydale, without Buffy and Dawn, there would have been nothing left. When I had run to Sunnydale, hell bent on killing Faith and destroying myself, what had remained when my sanity was shattered by grief and confusion? I had lost everything. I had burned to ash, swallowed up by the endless void of despair. Had cheated the eternal torment that I had righteously believed was mine to endure, that was to be my redemption. Played by men and demon alike, led on a merry dance by fate and destiny. All of it for reasons I didn't know and couldn't comprehend.

Lying in that bed with Faith at my side, I realize that I have come full circle. Back to the beginning. Was I monster or man? Who am I? What do I deserve?

Gazing up at the ceiling, I wonder if there are unseen forces looking down, pulling strings and changing events to suit their higher purposes. Was I chosen for this path that I walk? Had I always been meant to end up here, in Sunnydale, with a Slayer in my arms? Imagining the night sky full of stars twinkling down through the ages, I marvel at the expanse of space stretching out from the Earth. My actions seem insignificant against the vastness of the universe. Ripples in a great ocean, doomed to be swallowed by larger waves and scattered by the wind. What was left when nothing I did made a difference?

I feel the strings fall away, taking the burden of cosmic struggle from my shoulders. We do what we can, Verek had said. That was all. I am just Spike. A vampire with a soul. In the end, all I have, all I will ever have is me. Just me. Friends will come and go. Women will drift away, grow old, move on. Battles will be won and lost. All that matters is what I choose to do with the moment staring me in the face. Now. Here. That is all I have. A clean slate. What I deserve is life. I deserve to live, to choose, to love, to be. Nothing more, nothing less.

There is a monster in me but I am not a monster. There is a man in me but I am not a man. It is simple, it is easy. My future is in my own two hands. That is all anyone can ever deserve.

And right now, this very moment, I'm going to close my eyes and listen to the steady cadence of Faith's heartbeat. Sunnydale will still be there in the morning. Good things come to those who wait and I've got all the time in the world.