A/N: Wow, I have a few readers already! Thank you so much for taking an interest in my story! Sorry this chapter took so long to finish, trying to get the hang of writing these characters. I've already plotted out the full story for this, but I'm not sure how long I want to spend on each part yet, so apologies if it starts out a bit slow.

II. In Loving Memory

A knock on the door of his crypt stirred Spike from the light sleep he'd dozed off into. His senses told him that it was just before sunset now, though he couldn't suss out why anyone would be coming to visit him, much less be polite enough to knock rather than barging right in. Sitting up slowly, he rubbed his eyes and glanced towards the entrance curiously.

The knocking sounded again, then he heard Giles' mild, cultured voice asking from behind it, "Spike, are you there?"

An odd feeling of self-consciousness fell over him, and he paused a moment before calling out in reply, "Yeah, I'm comin'. Jus' a tick." Quickly pulling on a shirt and running a hand through his hair to be slightly more presentable, he got up and ambled over to see what the Watcher wanted.

Immediately upon opening the door, he was nearly knocked over by a familiar small form barreling into him. Dawn latched onto him in an almost painfully tight hug, burying her face against his chest. "Spike!" she squealed. "I missed you! Nobody would let me come over. They said it was too dangerous. I was hoping you'd come visit us and you never did! I was worried about you, you jerk!" She punctuated her final statement with a light punch to his arm, looking up at him with her lower lip jutting out in a pout that threatened to make him smile in amusement.

"Sorry, Niblet," he told the teen sincerely, protectively hugging her close to him in apology. He surprised himself with this action, realising just how badly he'd been missing human contact in his depressed isolation. "I've jus'...er...been a bit out of sorts lately..." he confessed awkwardly, only to be surprised once more when Dawn's eyes showed a look of sad understanding at his words. Of course she understands, it then occurred to him. She lost her sister. She's grieving too.

Giles cleared his throat from where he still stood just inside the entrance, drawing Spike's attention back to him. "Dawn came with me because she wanted to visit you," he began when he was sure the vampire was listening. There was an awkward pause, and Spike realised from his fellow Englishman's expression that the reason for his visit was otherwise not a happy one before he even finished, his usually-stoic tone faltering slightly at the message that followed. "I'm here to remind you that Buffy's funeral is this evening. I thought you might like to attend."

An icy spear of pain stabbed through Spike's heart at those words, prompting him to close his eyes to hide the emotion in them. "Thanks, Rupes," he replied quietly, his voice strained. "I'd like that."

Dawn sniffled and clung tightly to him again, once more hiding her face against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her securely in response, he absently combed his fingers through her hair in a comforting gesture. He knew that they were both comforting one another with the contact, and that they both needed it. Dawn needed him.

At this realisation, he felt a pang of guilt at how he'd isolated himself from the others. The poor girl had first lost her mother, then she'd lost her sister not long after. His withdrawal from the group meant she had, in a way, lost her surrogate big brother as well, and he might never have gone to see her again if she hadn't come to visit him today. He couldn't abandon her, not now. She'd been through too much grief already, far more than anyone her age ever should, pain that he couldn't bear the thought of adding to. He'd promised to protect her until the end of the world, and the end hadn't come after all, even though he'd failed to keep his promise the night it had mattered the most. He could still try to honour that promise now, and he would.

Making up his mind suddenly, he finally spoke up again, asking softly, "Bit, y'think the witches'd mind if I moved in wi' you lot?" He smiled sadly. "Been a bit lonely, an—"

He was cut off by an ear-piercing squeal of joy from Dawn, wincing slightly at the volume. "Please move in with us! I'm sure they won't mind! But just in case they do, I could annoy them into submission by pestering them about it endlessly until they say yes." She beamed impishly up at him, warming his heart.

Giles' mouth twitched with the slightest hint of a smile at the exchange before he sobered again, growing solemn and glancing towards the darkening sky. "We should be going about now. Do behave yourself around Angel, Spike. This would hardly be the time to start a fight." Spike scowled at the mention of his Grandsire, but reluctantly nodded in acknowledgment, shrugging on his duster on the way out and following after the Watcher as he led the way.


'She saved the world a lot.' The inscription on the headstone was certainly appropriate, but somehow Spike couldn't help but feel it was still an understatement. Buffy had done nothing but save the world since her calling. She'd more than earned her rest.

Still, he couldn't help but wish she were still here, still fighting. Losing her had left a gaping hole in his heart, one that seemed only to grow every day, eating away at him until perhaps one day there would be nothing left of him at all. Seeing Buffy's headstone made her death even more painfully real. He hung his head and closed his eyes, leaning back against the tree behind him, some distance from the rest of the group.

Not that anyone noticed that he was hanging back from the rest of them. They were all caught up in their own grief, most of them crying...well, except Angel. He was brooding instead. Spike rolled his eyes at the sight of the elder vampire acting so stiff and stoic throughout the service, as though it were completely unacceptable for him to show any emotion other than his default one. Sometimes he doubted that his Grandsire even had other emotions.

He withdrew into himself as the night went on, losing focus of what was going on and instead concentrating on the bottle of whiskey he'd brought with him, knocking back swigs of it now and then. Though he was glad he'd been invited, the pain was starting to overwhelm him again. He couldn't break down in front of everyone. Someone might end up talking to him, and he wanted badly to just be left alone.

Unfortunately, that wasn't happening. "Still disappear into the bottle whenever anything bad happens, eh, William?" he heard Angel asking derisively, the tall vampire apparently having walked over to him when he hadn't been paying attention.

"Sod off Angelus," Spike snarled in response, refusing to look at him. Great, this was the last thing he needed right now.

"Don't know why they even invited you," Angel continued, shaking his head. "You really should work on those manners, boy."

Smashing the now-empty bottle onto the ground with more force than necessary, Spike straightened up and glared daggers at Angel. "Don't think ya heard me. I said. Sod. Off." His eyes flashed yellow for a moment as he tried to contain his rage at the larger vampire. He was supposed to be playing nice, but it seemed Angel either hadn't gotten the same message, or he just didn't care. Was he just imagining the accusatory glare in his Grandsire's eyes, or was Angel actually blaming him for Buffy's death? Growling low in his chest, he abruptly looked away, slamming his fist into the tree.

"Back off, Angel," came Dawn's voice from behind the dark-haired vampire, strained from crying but clearly angry. Much to Spike's surprise, Angel turned to look at her, then simply huffed in irritation and walked away.

Spike looked to the teen in confusion for a moment, unsure what to say. He wasn't sure whether or not he was grateful that she'd stood up for him, or embarrassed that he'd needed a teenage girl to come to his defense. "Sorry 'bout that," he told her awkwardly after a moment.

She shook her head. "We were just about to leave, and I saw him bugging you. I really don't like him." She glared over her shoulder at the retreating vampire.

Spike smirked slightly, then pulled Dawn to him in a hug. She looked like she needed one. "That makes two of us then," he remarked.

Dawn looked up suddenly, remembering something. "Oh! I forgot to ask..." She meandered back towards the rest of the group and called out to Willow and Tara, doing her best puppy-dog-eyes as she asked them about Spike moving in with them, and it made him smile in spite of everything to watch her put on that act. Willow was frowning slightly, not seeming to think it was an ideal arrangement, but eventually she agreed and the three walked back over to Spike.

"I guess you're moving in with us," the redhead told him. She seemed tired and a bit puzzled. "We'll work something out. We were just heading home, want to come with us?"

Spike nodded silently, falling into step behind the others as they made the relatively short distance back to the Summers residence. The walk was a solemn and quiet one, clearly everyone's thoughts still on the funeral, grieving the passing of their cherished friend—or sister, in Dawn's case. When they arrived at the door, Spike hesitated and was the last to enter, afraid he might have been uninvited. There was no barrier, though, much to his relief. That made him feel a slight bit better, at least.

As she watched him walk inside, Tara wondered if she was the only one who could tell that something wasn't quite right with Spike. Though she could clearly see the pain in his aura, that wasn't what tipped her off. She wasn't the most knowledgeable about vampires, but she knew that they healed from injuries very quickly, and she could hazard a guess that Spike's injuries from falling off the tower should have disappeared by now. Something in how he held himself, moving gingerly and unsteadily, suggested that this wasn't the case. Moreover, he just didn't look healthy at all, an observation she never thought she would be making about someone who was technically a corpse. Of course, he'd never looked like one to her before, but he did now, more pale and gaunt than she remembered with dark circles under his eyes, his lips nearly blue. It chilled her.

She quickly averted her gaze when he looked at her, thankful that her shyness made the action seem natural for her rather than exposing her worry. "Sorry we don't have any blood," she spoke up softly, uncertainly. "I didn't know you'd be moving in. I-I'll go get some in the morning."

As she briefly made eye contact to convey her sincerity, the look on his face confused her. He was hiding something that was clearly troubling him, but she couldn't tell what. "It's fine," he told her, this time being the one to look away awkwardly. "Not hungry anyhow. Think I'd jus' like to get some sleep, yeah?"

Dawn turned wide, hopeful eyes to him. "Will you sleep in my room with me tonight? Please?" She held onto his arm as if afraid that her question would make him try to leave, her eyes tearing up as she confessed, "I've been having nightmares..."

Spike was quiet for a long moment. He still felt so broken and lost, doubting whether he could actually handle this. A part of him wanted to retreat to his crypt and never have to face anyone again. He didn't want to have to try to be strong right now, not when he felt so emotionally wounded from everything that had happened, as though he could fall apart any moment. And yet...as he looked into Dawn's sad and pleading eyes, shimmering with unshed tears and exposing her own pain he understood all too well, his heart broke at the thought of abandoning her. Finally, he nodded and hugged her gently. "Sure, Bit."