A/N: fun fact. The poetry in this chapter are actually my poems. I wrote a book of poetry once but never published it lmao

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"I'm just struggling to find a motive here. I mean, why leave a slew of orphans in their wake? What did the kids ever do to this person?" Angel muttered frustratedly. If Kat had learned one thing from spending so much time with him, it was that he hated not being able to figure something out. Especially when people's lives were on the line.

"Maybe they just really hate kids," Cordelia mentioned casually.

"Maybe it's not the kids," Kat shrugged, her chin propped on her hand and smushing her face slightly. Her eyes had gone wonky from the amount of research she'd been doing for this case. All they knew was that it was connected to someone attending an academy for witches. All eyes turned to her at her words, the whole group huddled in Angel's office. She was sitting at his desk.

"What do you mean?" Wesley asked slowly. She blew out an unneeded breath and sat up properly.

"Maybe this person doesn't hate kids. Maybe they've got some major mommy and daddy issues. They might be killing these parents 'cause they think they're doing the kids a favor," she suggested with another shrug. She could practically hear crickets chirping at her suggestion and she suddenly felt stupid for even saying it. But then Wesley was frantically flicking through his note pad.

"Angel… back at the academy, didn't they say that Joseph had grown up in the Foster care system until his abilities became apparent?" Welsey asked carefully, glancing from his notes and then to Angel who was lurking near the door. Angel blinked for a few moments as if going through his memories to see what he remembered. And without a word, he swiftly left the room and then the hotel.

"He should really trademark that whole walking out thing," Kat muttered wryly.

"He does love the dramatics," Spike replied with an eye roll from where he was sitting on top of the desk next to her. It had been a few days since he'd turned up and things were still weird with them. He'd given her a choice that night. He could go back to Sunnydale and give her some more space or he could stay here with her until she decided what to do. She'd decided on the latter. There was no way she was ready to go home yet and if she was honest, her current feelings for Buffy made her unsure she'd ever be able to. But she'd missed Spike. And while things still weren't perfect with them, she was sick of going through this without him. Hadn't she suffered enough already without tacking on missing him too? So she'd asked him to stay but he'd been respectfully keeping his distance so he didn't smother her, knowing she was still feeling a little raw. They didn't even share a room. The past few nights had her sleeping better knowing he was in the room next to hers but she also found herself almost leaving her room in the night to go seek him out. She resisted every time though.

Everyone started to file out of the room and Kat stood, stretching a little. She was curious if it would turn out she was right about the case. She wondered what Angel was going to do when he caught up with this Joseph. He was a witch but he was still human. A murderer, but human none the less. As she left the office, Spike trailed along behind her, his eyes glancing out the door.

"Night's still young. Should go for a walk or somethin'," he suggested softly. She stopped, tensing a little as her eyes darted to the door and then to him.

"I think I'm just gonna go to bed and read," she muttered, folding her arms over her chest. He rolled his eyes a little and gave her a look.

"You do that every night, pet. Why not do somethin' different?" he raised a brow at her. She knew what he was doing and she wasn't sure she appreciated it.

"I'm not ready, Spike," she murmured awkwardly, shifting on her feet. He sighed softly, coming closer to her. She expected him to take her hand or something like he used to do but he didn't touch her at all.

"You don't know unless you try. Just a little walk around won't do any harm," he urged.

"Unless I end up ripping someone's throat out," she huffed petulantly.

"Ain't gonna go munchin' on people, luv. Got that soul, remember? Besides, you've been hangin' 'round this lot for a while. Got any urges to rip their throats out?" he asked pointedly. She pursed her lips and looked away from him. He was right. Cordelia, Wes and Gunn were human and she hadn't had any urges to go sucking on their necks. There was just something scary about being out there. With people she had no emotional ties to. Around more people than she'd been around so far since she'd turned. But maybe he was right. She'd never be ready. She'd always just hide away from the world. And Angel had urged her that she could do good with this second chance she'd been given. She admired him really. She'd seen all the good he'd been doing since she'd been here.

Her eyes drifted to the door again longingly. She did miss being outside. She hadn't left the hotel in weeks. She started to forget what it looked like out there.

"Just a little walk. And I'll be there. You know I'll take good care of you," his soft murmur made her chest feel tight as she looked at him. His soft blue eyes were gazing imploringly at her and she nodded reluctantly.

"I know you will," she replied quietly. He gave her a wry smile before moving over to the door. She took a large unneeded breath before following him. Her first step outside was overwhelming. She tried to ignore it, stuff it all down as she and Spike walked side by side out of the courtyard of the hotel and out to the street. The streetlights were lit, cars driving by and people walking down the street. Suddenly, it was as if someone had turned up the volume dial. Gradually, the sounds of LA got louder and louder and she didn't realize she was shaking or that she'd stopped walking.

"What is it, Kitten?" Spike asked concerned, moving into her vision and crouching a little to be eye level with her.

"The sound… I can't… I can't turn it off, why can't I turn it off?" she whispered frantically. Spike took her hands in his, the first physical contact they'd had since he'd turned up here. She found it comforting and held onto them for dear life.

"What can you hear?" he asked in a murmur as he stared at her. Her eyes were too busy darting around at everything.

"Everything. The cars, the people, the streetlights. The heartbeats… so many heartbeats," she whimpered. The thumping of the hearts were deafening to her, and while it didn't inspire any urges to go on a killing spree, it still scared her. As if she was a sleeper agent and she thought one of the heartbeats might be the switch to turn her into a killer.

"Look at me, pet," Spike instructed softly. Her eyes finally landed on him then, his soft and concerned face watching her intently.

"Take some deep breaths," he said soothingly.

"I don't need to breathe," she muttered with a confused frown.

"Not about that. It's the ritual of it, yeah? You're still a lil fledgling. Just do it," he gave her a nod and she did as he told her. Inhaling deeply through her nose and out through her mouth as her eyes fluttered shut. She found the sounds calming down a little and instead, her sense of smell started to pick up everything around her. The fumes from the cars, the little hotdog stand down the road, people's perfume. The smell of rotten garbage assaulted her nose and her eyes popped open, head whipping to the dumpster down the alley.

"Nasty, right?" Spike asked her amused. She looked at him then as a smirk worked its way onto her face. She was no longer consumed by all the noise of the busy street. Instead, the smells had distracted her enough to bring her back from the brink.

"I don't even wanna know what's in there," she murmured with a wry smile. He gave her a smile that made her stomach flutter. She felt like she was plummeting off a 50 story building as she just looked at him, grateful that he'd helped her. She felt the air with them shifting and it reminded her of the day they almost kissed back before they knew of each other's feelings. And just like that time, the kiss she anticipated never happened. Instead, Spike cleared his throat and moved to her side again. He let go of one of her hands but she still held onto his other with a death grip, refusing to let it go. He was her anchor. He gave her a sweet smile and she was glad he didn't comment on it as they started walking again.

"I know it can be overwhelming at times, the heightened senses and all. You gotta know how to use 'em to your advantage. Sense of smell can be a good distraction from the noise. And if you ever get a whiff of somethin' that causes you problems, can use your hearin' to focus on something else," he mused softly. She nodded, taking in his words. She had a feeling the something that would cause problems would be blood and she dreaded the day she'd be in that situation. It was inevitable though. Whether she ever went home or not, she would be part of a group who fought for a living. Eventually, she wanted to be okay enough to join in and help. She'd end up smelling their blood one day and she hoped she'd be able to restrain herself. A comfortable silence overtook them then as they walked down the street hand in hand. Anytime she felt her hearing getting a little over the top, she'd focus on the smells. She wasn't sure why out here it was harder for her to control it since she'd mastered it back at the hotel, but she guessed it was because it was noisier out here. Either way, she was glad for his advice as it was working.

"It's so pretty here at night," she murmured, glancing up to the dark sky. The city was bustling with so many unique people, all with their own stories to tell. It was so different to her life in Sunnydale.

"It's definitely somethin'. Though I do prefer the quiet back home," he admitted. She hummed softly with a nod, glancing around. It was nice here but she did miss home. The thought made her tense though as she thought of Buffy.

"She misses you," Spike spoke as if he read her thoughts. She scoffed and shook her head.

"She wouldn't need to miss me if she didn't betray me," she huffed.

"If she didn't betray you, you'd be dead. I'm bettin' she'd be missin' you then too," he muttered dryly. She shot him a look and he sighed.

"I'm just sayin', pet. I know you're not ready and you don't wanna hear it. She messed up, but she's sorry and she misses you. So does the Bit," he said with another sigh. Dawn. her throat got tight and she suddenly wanted to go back to the hotel and hide under her duvet.

"How… How is Dawn?" she asked quietly. He glanced at her, his thumb rubbing circles on her hand.

"Doin' alright. She feels bad. She was Buffy's biggest cheerleader on the plan to bring you back. She thinks you hate her," he admitted. She stopped walking, looking aghast as she shook her head.

"I don't hate her!" she cried vehemently. He gave her a pitying look.

"I know, but she doesn't. You couldn't get outta there fast enough, and I get it. But everyone's missin' you," he uttered. The thought of Dawn thinking she hated her made an unpleasant burning attack her chest. She was just a kid, she didn't understand just what she was doing. None of this was her fault. Her issue was with Buffy. She was the one leading the charge, she was the one who knew better.

"You could call her? Give her a ring and just talk to her. Think it would make her feel better to hear it from you that you don't blame her," he suggested carefully. She nibbled her lip. It made her feel sick contacting any of them. Like she was opening a can of worms that would eventually lead to her inevitable confrontation with Buffy. But she couldn't leave Dawn in purgatory like that, thinking she hated her.

"How's everyone else doing?" she asked hesitantly as they started walking again. She hadn't asked before as she'd been too consumed by her feelings over being turned.

"They all took it pretty hard. Red took quite the hit. She's hurt Buffy lied to her. Her and Glinda wouldnt of done the soul spell if everyone wasn't okay with it. And I wasn't okay with it. They're all mad at the Slayer for lyin' to them. Giles is uh…" he trailed off awkwardly and her throat constricted. Would he hate her now she was a vampire?

"He's what?" she asked, dread coating her words. He shot her a glance before looking away.

"He's right cut up about it. Tore Buffy a new one for bringin' you back without tellin' him. He was told you'd died by the hospital. None of the others even told him what happened. Wasn't pleased he didn't even hear it from them. Then he learns you've turned and gone off to LA… Needless to say, the watcher blew a gasket. He's not talkin' to Buffy right now," he explained. She felt a pang of guilt for Buffy knowing everyone was mad at her. But then she remembered what she'd done to her and told herself she deserved it.

Silence descended on them again as they were both too in their own heads. Before long, they were walking back through the door of the Hyperion Hotel.

"Thank you… for coming with me. Helping me," she murmured with a grateful smile. He smiled back, that soft smile he had that she'd only ever seen directed at her and her heart melted a little.

"It's what I'm here for, yeah?" he grinned. They just watched each other for a minute before Spike finally let go of her hand. It felt cold now.

"I'll leave you to it then. You did good though, should be proud," he nodded, giving her another soft smile before he made his way to the stairs. She wanted to run up to him and kiss him. She wanted to go back to his room and snuggle under the blankets with him. But she didn't. She stayed rooted in her spot in the foyer watching him ascend the stairs. When he was out of view, she blew out a breath before padding over to the reception area. She sat on the stool and just stared at the phone for a minute. There was a chance Buffy would be the one to answer and that idea made her feel bile rising to her throat. She could just hang up if she did. She knew it was childish but she wasn't in the mood to deal with her treacherous cousin. Her hand shook a little as she grabbed the phone off the hook and dialed the number she'd dialed a thousand times. If her heart would beat, she knew it would be going a million miles a minute as she listened to the ringing.

"Hello?" It was Dawn. Thank whatever god was out there. She felt her body sag a little and her eyes pricked with tears at hearing her voice.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Dawn asked, sounding exasperated at the lack of communication.

"Dawnie…" Kat sniffled, already feeling stupidly emotional. There was silence on the other end and for a moment, Kat thought she might have hung up.

"Kat?" she squeaked out.

"It's me," Kat murmured. He heard Dawn start crying over the phone and she wished she was there to wrap her arms around her and console her.

"I miss you so much, Kat," she blubbered down the phone.

"I miss you too. I can't stay on long but I just wanted to make sure you're okay," Kat said as she wiped her eyes.

"You're not mad at me?" Dawn asked through her tears, sniffling away down Kat's ear.

"Of course I'm not, Dawn. It's not you I'm mad at. You didn't do anything wrong and I want you to know that. I still love you just as much," Kat implored. She heard Dawn's sharp intake of breath before she started crying even more.

"I love you too. I can't wait for you to come home. We're all so sorry," she wept pitifully. It made Kat's chest ache. She heard a door slam in the background and a voice she knew was Buffy's, but she couldn't ascertain the words.

"Buffy's home. You wanna talk to her?" Dawn asked softly.

"No… No I'm not ready yet," Kat rushed out, feeling panic prickle at her.

"Okay. Do you know when you'll be home?" she asked pleadingly.

"I'm not sure right now, Dawnie. But you can call me anytime you need me, okay?" After her words, Kat heard Buffy clearer, asking if it was her on the phone, making her panic rise even more.

"I have to go, Dawn. I love you. Don't forget that," she muttered before she hung up. She didn't like hanging up on her like that but she knew Buffy well enough. She'd grab the phone and try to talk to her even if Dawn said no. She wasn't sure just how she'd react to hearing Buffy try and explain herself right now. She blew out a shaky breath, wiping her hand over her face. She jumped when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. She whipped her head around to see Angel standing next to her.

"Are you okay? I wasn't… eavesdropping or anything… I was just in my office so I could hear… are you okay?" he asked awkwardly. His face was the picture of concern as he took in her tear stricken appearance.

"I just… everything's messed up," she lamented, shaking her head as she started crying. It was too much listening to Dawn and about how much she wanted her to come home. She wanted to come home too but she wasn't ready yet. Angel wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug.

"It'll be okay. Things will work out in the end. You just need more time," he murmured soothingly as he rubbed her back. She was grateful for him as he let her cry it out and consoled her as she did. She hated feeling everything so much and so intensely. She longed for the days of being able to switch off. When she was done crying, she moved away from him and wiped her eyes as he watched her carefully.

"Thank you. For everything. I don't think I could have dealt with any of this if it wasn't for you," she said sincerely. She meant every word. She had no idea how she would have coped with being a vampire if Angel hadn't come and got her when she asked. He hadn't owed her anything yet he did it anyway.

"You know I'm always here if you need anything," he smiled warmly. She gave him a watery smile as she stood up, squeezing his arm.

"You really are an Angel," she smirked a little, wiping her eyes again with her sleeves. He scoffed, looking bashful as he shook his head amused.

"Get your ass to bed," he huffed teasingly. She snorted, giving him a mock salute as she made her way to the stairs.

Once in her room and in her shorts and tank PJs, she lay in her bed staring at the ceiling. Speaking to Dawn had opened up a lot of old wounds and only made her feel a mountain of things she'd rather she didn't. She couldn't sleep. Her eyes drifted to the wall, knowing who was on the other side of it. She wondered if he was sleeping or if he was lay awake too. For the first time since he got here, she got out of bed and left her room, giving in to the urge to seek his comfort. She was feeling far too vulnerable and raw. She didn't want to be alone and drown in her misery. She hovered in front of his door, wondering if she was making a mistake. She didn't want to bother him. She shook her head before knocking twice on his door softly. If he was asleep she didn't want to wake him. She heard some movement before the door opened. Spike stood there in just his boxers and he looked surprised to see her.

"Hey… I uh… " to her horror, her lower lip wobbled as her voice quivered, betraying her intense emotions. He gave her a sympathetic look and she noticed how his hand twitched and he took a step towards her. He seemed to think better of it, stopping his movements before he stepped aside to let her in. She walked in, hugging herself as she glanced around. The room was dimly lit by the lamp on the bedside table, a book lay open on his bed.

"I didn't mean to bother you. I just don't wanna be alone," she mumbled.

"You're never a bother to me, luv. You're always welcome here," he soothed softly. She gave him a shy smile as he walked back over to the bed, shutting what looked like a journal before he sat leaning against the headboard. She hovered uncertainly until Spike patted the spot beside him. She moved over, climbing into the bed. She pulled the duvet over her lap as she leaned against the headboard too. There was a weird heavy silence that was hanging over them, like he wasn't sure what to say or how to deal with her. She didn't blame him. She'd created a cavity of distance between them and they were in that weird limbo. She hated it. She just wanted them to go back to how they used to be but so much had happened and she didn't feel like the same old Kat. Her eyes drifted to the book now lying on the nightstand.

"Were you writing poetry?" she asked curiously, trying to strike a conversation so the awkward silence would stop eating at her. He shifted, looking a little shy, eyes going to her and then the book.

"A bit," he replied, sounding almost embarrassed.

"Would you read some to me?" she asked softly. He looked shocked at her request, clearing his throat as he shifted once more.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I know they're private and stuff," she muttered quickly, feeling stupid for asking. He looked so uncomfortable.

"It's not that… I just…" he trailed off. He gave her this look, like he was searching for something behind her eyes and she had no idea what.

"I've never let anyone read my poetry before. I don't want you to… think less of me," he muttered with a frown. A frown of her own overtook her face.

"Why would I do that?" she asked bewildered. He chewed his lower lip as he grabbed the book, his hand smoothing over the leather cover.

"Poetry… it's the only remnant of my old life. It's hard to let go of it, yet I hate it at the same time. Reminds me of bein' that bumbling sap, William bloody Pratt, people walked all over," he muttered bitterly. She reached over and grasped his hand, making him look at her.

"Writing poetry isn't a bad thing. I like that you're sensitive like that. It's nothing to be ashamed of. And I'm sure Willam was incredibly sweet. I'd have wanted him to woo me," she smirked, trying to make him feel better. He snorted, raising a brow at her.

"Woo?" He asked amused, making her chuckle and smack his arm.

"Well, whatever word you guys used back in the good old days," she teased.

"Courtin' would be a better term," he replied, still looking amused.

"Would you have courted me?" She asked with a coy smile. He scoffed, looking down bashfully.

"Doubtful. You're so far outta my league, I'd never be able to get two words out to you. I'd make a right tit of myself," he huffed.

"I'd think it was endearing. I'd have you read poetry to me all day and reward you with sneaky pre marital sex," she grinned impishly. It drew a surprised laugh out of him as he smirked at her.

"That right, pet?" He asked smoothly, his tongue peeking out and swiping over his canine. She felt heat sweep her entire body and she was startled at how they'd slipped into a conversation much like how they'd been before her turning. She hadn't even noticed.

"I won't push you to read them to me. But I'd never judge you if you did," she murmured softly, steering the conversation into less steamy territory. He blinked at her for a moment, a small hesitant smile on his face.

"I can read a few, if you want. Just don't forget I was the big bad," he muttered, making her snort.

"Your manly ego will not be hurt, I promise," she smirked cheekily. She was excited to hear some of his poetry and she figured it would make a good distraction from her own feelings. She knew he was a good poet after reading his poems about her back before they got together. When she found out he loved her. She'd never told him about that though. She didn't want him to be upset at her invading his privacy like that. He cracked open the book, flicking through some of the pages with a thoughtful look on his face. His body was held tightly and she knew he was feeling a little bashful about the whole thing. Instead of just outright staring at him while he read, she figured he'd be more comfortable if she lay her head on his lap. So that's what she did. She moved to curl up and he moved the book so she could lay her head on him. He gave her a pleasantly surprised smile at her closeness and she wriggled about to get comfy. She was lay on her side, looking at the wall hoping it would make him feel a little better. After hearing the pages move a few more times, he cleared his throat.

"When he fell in love, he fell hard.

Feeling deeply; all consuming.

A fire

Igniting his very soul.

Willingly reaching inside of his chest,

To rip out his unbeating heart.

Offering it up;

A perfect sacrifice," he read softly, his voice quieter than usual. She smiled to herself, her hand resting on his leg below the knee and rubbing it reassuringly.

"You're a really good poet," she mused. He chuckled a little.

"Hardly. I'm no Shakespeare or Oscar Wilde," he mumbled shyly.

"I really like it. You have a way with words," she replied, squeezing his leg. She heard the rustling of the pages again and then when it stopped, one of his hands came to her hair and started toying with it absentmindedly. The action was so casual and normal that it startled her for a moment.

"The days are dark; The hours are long,

Countdown each second until we speak.

I'm lost without you, it all feels wrong,

It makes everything look so bleak.

Spark in the darkness; I wait for you,

Filling my life with your pure bright light.

Brands my skin; an eternal tattoo,

Comfort to carry me through the night.

Smile on my face; strange thing to behold,

Dark heart fluttering in my chest.

So much to say, the words left untold,

Butterflies swarming inside my flesh.

It's quite a fall and the pit is deep,

No parachute for a safe landing.

Without a thought, I will take the leap,

For feelings that are so demanding.

My stomach drops but my heart flies high,

Such a curious feeling indeed.

Warm light inside, where you occupy,

If you cut me, your light I would bleed."

He read, the cadence to his voice making the poem soothing. She didn't need to ask to know the poem was about her and she felt like her heart might start beating again.

"That was beautiful," she whispered, her hand clutching his leg. He didn't say anything and she rolled over to look up at him.

"It's just how I feel," he said simply, his voice a mere murmur. She smiled, knowing she'd be blushing if she was capable. He stroked her cheek tenderly and her heart ached for him. For them. For what they had before. Feeling a little overwhelmed, she sat up.

"Thanks for reading them to me," she said softly.

"You really liked 'em?" He asked, sounding unsure of himself. It was weird to see the usually cocky vampire act shy like this.

"I love them. You've got a natural talent for it," she said sincerely. He looked at her for a moment as if assessing if she was telling the truth. But then a boyish smile graced his face as he reached out and took her hand.

"I should probably head off back to bed," she murmured, looking at their joined hands.

"Can stay here if you want… if you don't wanna be alone," he suggested carefully. She looked at him as he just watched her with that soft look on his face. She was feeling a lot of things all at once but she knew she didn't want to leave. Being with him was soothing to her.

"You don't mind?" She asked hesitantly. He gave her a look as he moved to lay on his back.

"'Course I don't mind, luv," he murmured, holding his arm out in invitation. She bit her lip as she moved, laying under the covers with her head on his chest. She felt something stirring inside of her as she melted into him, her face on the bare skin of his smooth chest as his arms encircled her. She felt like the part of her she'd been missing was put back in place. She'd been feeling so lost, so far out to sea. But here with Spike like this, she finally felt like she was home.