Spike

Niblet is gonna get it. Just wait until I get my hands on her. Running off like that – with all these crazy demon's about! If they don't kill her, I will. Just gotta find her first. It's my job to protect her. And now how am I supposed to be doing that with her all off somewhere in Sunnydale? The one thing I could do. The one thing I ever promised… Her… Gotta find the 'bit. Gotta find Dawn.

Now where would she be? I grabbed the bike I'd taken from the demon before and revved the engine as fast as it would take me. First stop, the Magic Box. Dawn would surely run there right? Dawn would run there right? No, if the others weren't there she wouldn't feel safe. The crypt? 'Course not, if she wanted to go to my place she'd have stayed with me.

Best bet it the Summers' home. I pulled a dangerously sharp U-turn on the broken road – bike going close enough to the ground for the skin of my jeans to tear slightly on the concrete – heading towards the home. Stupid girl if she were there. That's where they'd just run from! But, the place is better than most others.

I pass piles of burning rubble, burning corpses and some artifacts that I couldn't possibly fathom even with my vamp senses. Almost there, I told myself. Stay calm just that little bit longer. I tried to think positive thoughts, but the picture of Dawn's rotting corpse kept breaking into my head. I shoved the mental picture from my mind with a growl, keep it together!

Finally I managed my way through the disgusting streets and to the front door of the Summers' home. I dropped the bike without putting up the stand, or snatching the keys, and threw myself threw the door. "Dawn!" I called hysterically, looking around for signs of the little girl. "Dawn are you here?" I listened hard; I could hear her heart beating from upstairs.

"I'm coming!" I heard her quick reply, and then footsteps towards the stairs.

"Thank god, you scared me half to death… or more to death. I could kill you!" I growled at her angrily.

"Spike I-"

"I mean it; I could rip your head off one handed and drink from your brain stem." I was seeing red, that damned girl was going to make me break my promise. That poor girl…

"Look…" Dawn pointed a slender finger to the figure a few steps above her. The Buffybot stared down at me with dead eyes.

"Yeah, I've seen the bloody bot before. Didn't think she'd patch up-" No… No it couldn't… Couldn't be… My thoughts stuttered though my body barely shook as I stared, not dismay, not really, not really joy either, at Buffy. The real Buffy.

" She's kind of… She's been through a lot, with the whole – death, and well, the death. But I think she's ok." Dawn stumbled over her words, trying to keep her voice steady, be the strong one. I could feel daybreak spread across my face as I looked up to my lost love. "Spike? Are you ok?" She asked nervously. I guessed I must have looked like death myself. Face flushed, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights probably, and mouth gaping open as if I was choking. I was choking. Couldn't inhale, couldn't exhale, my world was spinning. My head was filling with the strangest emotions. I was ridding on absolute ecstasy at seeing the slayer alive – or, living – only a few feet in front of me. Another part of me was flat on my back with the air pushed out of me, feeling lost for the poor girl who no longer belong in this world. Neither did I really.

"I'm…" I couldn't answer her, not because I was sparing her my tragic little love story, but because I couldn't form the words. "What did you do?" I looked Buffy over, head to toe. She seemed in one piece – on the outside. But her hands, they were torn and bleeding. My heart broke when I realized why.

"Me? Nothing!" Dawn assured me, waving her hands frantically.

"Her hands…"

"We were just getting cleaned up, she's looking a lot better. Less dirty and less… bloody…" Dawn turned to her sister again, surveying her critically as I had.

"Well then let's finish that yes?" I took a few steps upward, never taking my eyes of the angel before – she must be an angel – and stopping just bellow her.

Buffy stared at me with emotionless eyes, watching me soullessly as I watched her with emotion pouring from my every corner. She mouthed my name and looked down at her hands, eyes closing half way. I know love, I know. I wanted to hold her, wanted nothing more that to just pull her into my arms and stay that way forever. She ducked her head and tilted her body towards mine. At first I thought she was going to fall, and so I lifted my arms to catch her, but she stopped moving. I hesitated, unsure of what to do. But she gently tugged at my sleeve with her index finger and her thumb, not looking at me, but I could still see the desperation spreading across her face, the pace of her heart speeding, her breath quickening. The girl was scared no doubt.

"Come on love," I whispered loud enough for her to hear. I lifted my hands to her elbows, and let my body slide in closer to hers as I guided her back to the upstairs bathroom. "Dawn, get her pajamas, or something more comfortable." I asked of the little 'bit. I knew she'd picked this outfit out for Buffy, but I also knew that "stylish" wasn't at all what the girl needed right then. When Dawn was out of the room I proceeded to question the slayer, find out exactly what had happened to her. "Crawled out of your grave there didn't you?" I asked as softly as I could. Really I couldn't speak any less soft if I'd tried. My words were failing me, and I felt as though I might pass out.

She nodded her head, "That's what I had to do."

I smiled to her, understanding that perfectly. I'd done it a hundred and twenty years or so ago. Uncertainly, I lifted her gently and set her on the counter top by the sink. She watched my hands work impassively. I grabbed a hand towel from a drawer, and soaked it in cold water before applying it gently to the bloody wounds. While I squeezed to stop the bleeding, I looked up at her face. She was starring at me again. Not watching my hands any longer.

"How long have I been gone?" She asked quietly.

"Hundred forty seven days yesterday," I said with a slight smile. "Hundred forty eight today. But, today doesn't really count does it?" I gave a nervous chuckle, and my smile grew quickly. My vision blurred as I felt tears stinging my eyes and I suppressed a moan. My poor Buffy. I leaned my head into the crook of her neck, breathing hard. She isn't real, this is a dream. A really sick, twisted nightmare. The best damn dream I ever had. She squeezed my hand ever so slightly, hands nearly as cold as mine. She tugged at me again, blood pulsing heavily beneath her skin as her heart began to race for a second time. Her breath pitched when I didn't respond. Eager to calm her, I wrapped an arm around her waist and let one of her hands grip my shirt beneath my duster. She gave a small sob and buried her face in my shoulder. Her hand clenched under mine, starting the bleeding all over again. I pulled back slightly to check the gashes on her knuckles, but let her pull me back against her. Her breath shook with every inhale and every exhale. I slid her to the edge of the counter and she wrapped her legs around my waist, securing me to her.

"Don't leave me." She begged through a pitiful sob. "Please,"

My heart broke for the millionth time as I held the broken woman in my arms. God I love you. I squeezed her harder. "Never Buffy." I stroked her hair gently.

"I brought the clothes." Dawn said as she entered the room. "Is she ok?"I tasted the extra salt in the air when Dawn's own tears flooded down her cheeks. I turned and wiped them away with my thumb, and then took the clothes from her.

"Here you are love, just put these on, I'll be waiting outside." I tried to escape her grip, but she panicked again.

"No!" She cried grabbing my arm with slayer strength. "Spike," She moaned.

I turned back to her, a hand resting on her shoulder. "S'alright, not going anywhere." I said helping her off the counter. "I'll just turn around so you can change." I sacrificed myself a glance to Dawn, and pulled her into a short hug when I saw the broken look on her face. This'd be just as hard on the 'bit as it would be for the slayer I imagined.

When Buffy finished getting dressed, Dawn and I lead her into the living room where she sat slowly onto the couch. I sat on the foot rest in front of her, and reached a hand over to stroke her hair again. She whimpered and took my hands, pulling me towards the couch.

"Sit with me?" She asked. I obliged happily, letting myself fall in place beside her, and putting my arm around her shoulders when she leaned into me. I could stay like this forever. Did I die? Was there some mix up and I actually went to heaven? Must have. No other explanation.

The rest of the scoobies made their way in then. Way to ruin a man's heaven. I mentally snarled at them. S'pose this wasn't heaven, guess the slayer is real.

Buffy

My friends came into the living room, all of them calling my name. My friends. Is that what they are? Surely friends don't rip other friends out of heaven. How could they? I push myself further into Spike when they surround me, but much to my disappointment he bolts for the door. I thank the gods for Dawn when she grabbs him though, reminding him that he said he'd stay. I saw him look to the ceiling – fighting back tears? But he stays.

I can't make out what everyone is saying. I think they're asking me questions – about what I want? – or maybe they want something from me. I don't know. I don't bother listening to them. All of my thoughts are on Spike and Dawn. They didn't pull me out of heaven. But where's Giles? I look around for him, of course he isn't there. I'm nervous for him, but the feeling only lasts for a second.

"Hey! Back off! Let her breath!" Dawn cries to the group of talking adults. I notice Spike wearing the same look of approval that I think I'm wearing. "You did this didn't you?" Dawn accuses. "What did you do?"

"We did a spell," Willow explains to Dawn. "We brought her back, Buffy are you going to be ok? Do you need anything?" I look away from her, trying again to block them out.

Dawn is yelling again, but I return my focus to Spike who looks like he's ready to rip off someone's head.

I hear him when he sais, "You didn't tell me. You brought her back, and you didn't tell me." His voice shakes with the seething bitterness that illuminates him.

"Well now you know." Xander brushes him off, and for some reason, I can't stand it. Can't stand him.

Spike grabs Xander about the collar and thrusts him into the wall. "I worked beside you a hundred forty seven bleeding days, saved your sorry lives, all of you!" He shouts. I can see tears pouring down his face.

"Uhm, sorry and stop pressing against my boyfriend?" Anya offers.

I can't take it anymore, I have to get away. Spike is seething, I can see that. And Dawn looks appreciatively at him at he does so. I approach him wearily as the crowd goes still. I might have felt uncomfortable with all their eyes on me had I been able to feel anything. I can feel him though, and I realize that I want to. Need to. Need to feel anything. Even if it is Spike. And why shouldn't it be? He and Dawn and maybe Giles… They are the only ones I think I'm not angry with. I don't think Giles would have allowed them to bring me back. But I'm not sure.

I pull on Spikes arm until he turns to face me. "I'm a little dizzy," I tell him, hearing the distant ring that is my voice. "Can you help me upstairs?" I look to where I want to go, and he willingly forgets about Xander and the others and puts his hand on the small of my back as he leads me to my bed. "Stay, please." I ask him, not quite ready to be alone. I feel fear closing in when I lie down, I'd been lying down in a box in a hole in the ground for the past… Whatever number Spike had said. With the covers on top of me, and the dark inside the room, I feel as though I'm back in that small enclosed space. I wonder if I'll ever get over the claustrophobia. I sit up quickly when he pulls down the blinds. I can't do it anymore. Can't lie there. He hovers over me for a second, deliberating. "Here, with me." I move to the side, offering him the bed to share with me. I hear him huff out a breath while he takes off his duster and crawls beside me. I let him wrap his arms around me, but when he goes to lean back I tear myself away. "No, no laying down. I can't, Spike I can't." I start to hyperventilate and Spike hushes me soothingly.

"S'alright love, we won't lie down." He leans against the headboard, and lets me rest against his chest. "Just rest on me love." He goes to kiss the top of my head, I know it, I could feel it, but he doesn't. For a brief second I wonder why, and then I remember al l those times I turned him away. I'm asleep before I can think any further.