Title: Sisters of Mercy (Twisted Remix)

Author: Vixen

Summary: Dawn offers Spike what Buffy will not.

Rating: PG-13

Fandom: Buffy

Title, Author and URL of original story: Sisters of Mercy by Soundingsea

"She'll never give you this," Dawn said calmly, though later she would realize they were the last words she would speak. "I will. Taste me."

He couldn't resist. Dawn made sure of that, the way she backed him into a corner, nearing him with suicidal purpose, until all he could smell was her scent surrounding him. The sweet scent lingered in the air, toying with his defenses. The knife clattered to the floor, an empty dull sound falling between two beats of her heart.

Just a taste of what was offered, Spike told himself. It was already offered anyway, it wasn't his choice. He pulled his gaze away from her bleeding wrist, into her eyes and was certain she was the one in control, she was the one making this choice. Her innocence already gone, she had her own death wish. Just like her big sis, though if he had told her that perhaps she would have stormed out in a fury of pretended independence.

When he was certain this was what she wanted, when he could resist the temptation no longer, Spike held her wrist in his hands and drank. The blood rushed in between his fangs, down his throat, filling him with her moonlight and shadow and fancies. Her eyes locked with his, she wanted this more than anything. Wanted to be a part of him.

Dawn began to slump slightly, but Spike wrapped his arm around her waist, cradling her, saving her from falling. How much had he drank? He couldn't remember in the heat of the moment, but the facts didn't point anywhere good. Her body was growing limp, only able to stay standing up by leaning on him. Before the darkness took her from him, Spike bit down on his own wrist, opening up a vein with his fangs.

Then, holding it under her mouth, he offered the same thing she had before. Blood. His. That which would make her a part of his world forever. With the same suicidal need she had possessed before, Dawn drank full and deep, hungering to be reborn into his world.

It wasn't until the next night that she awoke, positioned ever so carefully on his bed while Spike watched from the seat in the corner of the newly furnished room. Through her weary eyes, Dawn could hear him talking to himself, mumbling about what he had done to her, cursing himself for having even thought of it.

She sat up, unable to hear anymore of his rambling monologue. Her forehead formed sharp ridges at her eyes while fangs needle sharp grew to fill her mouth. "Spike," As she called to him, her voice sounded strange, different.

"Dawn," He stopped to look at her. His hair was a mess and he couldn't stop pacing around, even after she called his name, just kept moving in dizzying circles. "What did I?" He paused, than began again with more certainty, "What did you.." He shook his head, "Slayer's gonna kill us both now, no way around that."

"Is that all you can think of?" Dawn spat back, standing tall on her own legs. There was a new energy in every one of her actions. "Your precious slayer. Why did you sire me at all, if she's all you can think about? You don't even want me, do you?"

His silence said it all. She was never a part of him, even now after receiving a sweet death and rebirth at his own hands. Spike tried to reassure her, tried to say all the things that would make this rejection easier, but Dawn pushed him away. The force of her movement slammed him against the crypt wall, a stunt she could never have pulled off before.

She ran away from him, off into the night, the crypt door slammed as she left. Spike slid down the wall, coming to a rest on the floor right where he had landed. Head in his hands, he let out a dry laugh. He could still feel her, taste her, her being filling his every sense.

The Slayer who would hate him for what he had done. His nibblet would never be the same again, she didn't have to look to him for protection now. Both were lost to him forever now.

End.