Title: Promised
Author: KurtCouper
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Spike/Dawn Friendship, maybe more
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
Summary: Spike promised two years ago that it was her and him until the end of the world. But Spike lied and Dawn can't seem to forget that.

-----

Chapter 4

I'm in a car underwater with time to kill
Thinking back I forgot to tell you this
I didn't care that you left and abandoned me
What hurts more is I would still die for you

Make time slower; Give me longer
It's too late for me
No one will know that I'm down here
And believe your dreams of me sinking so far below
You can't pull me up from here, so don't try

Car Underwater- Armor for Sleep

"Dawn."

The brunette moved her mouth as if she was trying to speak, but nothing would come out. Her body was shaking and she was cold. But she couldn't tell if she truly registered the temperature.

"Come on, baby."

She felt herself being held by cold, strong hands. But, where she was... it was so dark. And she was wet.

"I didn't risk my arse for you last night just for you to knock yourself out in the loo. Come back to me."

Slowly, her eyes fluttered back into consciousness; everything was intensely bright. But she could make out a figure in front of her, holding her and shaking her roughly. Even semi-conscious, Dawn could tell it was Spike. His mouth was moving, meaning he was talking, but she couldn't hear him. Blinking her eyes, Dawn raised a shaky hand to his lips to shut them.

As soon as she made physical contact with him, it was if everything came rushing back at her. She remembered how much she hated Spike. She remembered her fatal slip. She remembered drinking a bit too much on an empty stomach. It was then she realized that she was still in the shower, naked, with water still dribbling onto her. Spike, too, was squatted into the tub, his body above hers. A thick headache penetrated her skull then-throbbing and throbbing and throbbing.

She was hurting, physically and emotionally. If she hurt before her shower, then she didn't even know what she felt now. The Ex-Key wasn't too sure how long she had been lying in the bottom of the tub. She guessed a few hours by the way her skin was extremely chilled; they must have run out of hot water. Looking up, she realized that Spike was still talking. He looked ragged and tired. Most of his clothes were soaked through with water. She hadn't been this close to him in a long time. Their faces were hardly a foot a part and his arms were supporting her dead weight in an almost-hug. It made her reminisce about the old days.

The craving to just cuddle into his arms and let him take care of her was immense. Not that he would, she reprimanded. She couldn't ever see herself and Spike ever being like they were that Summer. He was Buffy's now, tainted. Forever a fuck toy. But the couple of years since he's been away, she's changed. Things were different for her and him. Taking a deep breath, Dawn forced the nostalgia away and closed her eyes to try to pick up the words he was saying.

"...death. We have to get you warm..."

With listening to his words, Dawn tried to break free of his grasp; she didn't want him to touch her anymore. But he was too strong and she was too weak. He kept pulling her out of the tub with him, but she didn't want him to see her, touch her. This was far too intimate. There was once a time when she wanted him to know her body like this and when he did. But now, now she was covered in bruises and grime and it's been too long since he's seen her scars.

"Get your hands off me," she moaned, her words jumbled and shaky-just like her. She noticed that he shut off the water. "I'm fine. Just fine."

Spike let her go and she tumbled back into the tub. Her head hit the back of the fiberglass, but it didn't do too much damage besides the echoing sound it made. As a cry escaped her lips, she clawed her way from the tub, gripping the edge as if it was her life line. The brunette kept telling herself that she could do this. It didn't take too much to exit out of a tub, but her muscles were tired and weak and the world was still a bit spiny. But as she took her time, she was able to lift her legs over the edge and firmly sit her weight against the lip.

The brunette felt so bare against the vampire's accusing gaze. It was almost as if he was looking right through her. Being naked, though, did not help. Dawn just knew he was musing about the things that he'd seen with her body, the bruises, her scars, her ribs. Ignoring the pain, she huddled into her self and tried to cover her body as best as she could. She knew it wasn't a big deal to Spike, the Don Juan of Vampires. He's seen millions of naked bodies-men, women, and demons alike. But it wasn't her bare body that bothered her, it was that INTIMATE factor. It made those dirty feelings return.

"Here," he said as he threw her a large towel to cover herself with. She gratefully took it and wrapped her shivering body with it.

Dawn could tell he wanted to scream at her. It was his body language that did him end. He barely blinked, his lips pursed. Even his body was tight, muscles tensed. But it was his breathing that gave him away. He only breathed when he didn't know what else to do, counting breathes to calm himself as well as pass by the time. His fingers picked at the last bit of black polish residing on his nails. And Dawn understood. She understood too much. This situation was too tense and too emotionally draining. A cigarette was definitely needed.

"Can I have one?" she asked when he reached in his pocket for a cigarette. She could tell he was going to say no. His face was stern and harsh. She wasn't even sure he knew she smoke. "If you open the window, you can't smell it." He sighed, did as she said, and threw her his pack. She lit it easy and inhaled the harsh Marlboro. Holding the cigarette in a slightly shaky right hand, the brunette had to brace the bottom of her arm with the other.

It immediately calmed her nerves.

Dawn fixed Spike a look. He was still looking off into the distance, distracted and just smoking. As he exhaled his own drag and eerie stance overtook him. Detached, he said, "You might need stitches."

Wrapped tight in the towel, Dawn slowly dragged herself to the bathroom counter and stared into the mirror. Because she was still shaky and her vision blurry, she crawled up onto the counter and rested her body along side of the mirror and her back towards Spike. The Ex-Key traced the large gash on the mirror that shone brightly against her overly pale skin. It was a few inches from her temple on the right side of her face and nearly three inches long. Blood was crusted into her hairline as well and she even had a slight split lip where she landed head first.

"I'll be fine," she whispered, not too sure. The angry cut was sore to the touch and needed a good cleaning. It took another repeating for herself to actually believe it.

She rested her face against the mirror, glad that Spike was behind her. Dawn didn't know what to do, or say. He was bound to explode any minute, she was sure of it. It wasn't too long until she heard him finish his cigarette. With a sigh, he stubbed the butt out and threw it out the window. She tried to busy herself with a washcloth to clean her wound; the brunette didn't want to pay any attention to him. But as he walked by her, he inched off his damp t-shirt. Before he left the bathroom, he turned to catch her eye.

"Now don't ever say that I soddin' break promises."

---------

One more chapter left!! I loved this part of the story.