AN: I don't own the characters, they are the property of Stephanie Meyers and Joss Whedon. I just like to ponder what would happen if the two worlds collided.

Chapter 12: Cracks in the Façade

As silence enveloped Giles's house, thick with the weight of Jasper's revelations, a shift occurred within him. The once comforting ambiance now seemed distant, as if he were suddenly far from the warmth it offered. Jasper's breathing grew erratic, each shallow breath quickening as the magnitude of his situation pressed down on him. Tears streaked his cheeks, a stark anomaly to the nature he had known for so long.

He was hyperventilating, each breath a struggle as if the air itself had grown thicker. The realization hit him like a physical blow, sending ripples of panic through his body. Tears, real tears, flowed freely from his eyes, a manifestation of his anguish and confusion. This was not normal; vampires didn't cry, at least not where he came from. The fact that he could showed just how far he had ventured from everything he understood to be true.

Willow's hand on his shoulder was a grounding presence, but even her comforting touch couldn't stave off the rising tide of panic. Giles stepped closer, concern etched deeply on his face, mirroring the alarm Jasper felt. Spike's attempt at reassurance seemed distant, barely piercing the fog of Jasper's distress.

Buffy watched, her expression a mix of empathy and uncertainty. She had seen many things as the Slayer, but the sight of a vampire so utterly undone by his own emotions was uncharted territory. Her instincts warred within her — the desire to help against the caution honed by years of conflict.

The house, with its layers of history and comfort, seemed to close in on him, the walls witness to this moment of raw vulnerability. Jasper's chest heaved as he attempted to regain control, to stem the tide of panic. The others' voices were muffled, as if he were underwater, their expressions blurred through the tears.

Finally, Buffy stepped forward, her resolve taking shape. "Jasper, breathe with me," she said gently, kneeling in front of him. "In and out, slowly. You're safe here, with us." Her directive cut through the panic; a lifeline thrown across the turbulent sea of his emotions.

Gradually, Jasper's breathing began to mirror Buffy's steady rhythm, the hyperventilating slowing as he fought for control. The realization that he was crying real tears, experiencing a profoundly human response, remained bewildering, but the immediate panic began to recede under his newfound allies' concerted efforts.

As calmness slowly returned, Jasper looked up, meeting each of their gazes in turn. The vulnerability he'd shown and the support they'd offered without hesitation wove a thread of connection between them, binding him to this strange new world with strands of understanding and compassion.

Noticing something amiss, Willow pointed out a fresh stain darkening the fabric of Jasper's shirt near his side. "Jasper, your wound," she said, concern lacing her voice.

The group's focus shifted immediately. Earlier, Willow had provided Jasper with pig's blood to aid his recovery. In their world, giving a vampire blood expedited healing, an unspoken rule underscoring their supernatural existence. But now, as Jasper saw his own blood seeping through the fabric, a surge of confusion and alarm washed over him. This was wrong. In his heightened emotional state, his wound had not only reopened but was bleeding. Bleeding. A vampire's body shouldn't bleed like this; it should clot, seal with venom, not continue to weep openly.

"I... I shouldn't be bleeding," Jasper murmured, more to himself than anyone else. The implications of this anomaly gnawed at him, unraveling the fragile sense of control he had just regained.

Spike, ever the skeptic, leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "Hold on. Vampires in your world don't bleed?" His tone was a mix of intrigue and challenge. While vampires in their dimension could bleed, especially when injured by certain weapons or magic, the process was usually quick to halt.

Jasper's confusion deepened. "We heal... Our wounds don't bleed like this; they seal with venom." His voice trailed off, adding another layer of isolation to his already profound sense of displacement.

Buffy stepped back, her brows furrowed in thought. This was uncharted territory, even for her. "Venom?" she echoed, trying to reconcile this new piece of information with her understanding of vampires.

Giles, always ready to delve into the academic side of their predicaments, adjusted his glasses. "Fascinating," he murmured. "This suggests a physiological difference between vampires across dimensions. Jasper, this might explain why the pig's blood didn't have the intended effect. Your biology isn't accustomed to it."

Willow, quick to focus on the immediate problem, suggested, "Maybe we should clean and rebandage the wound. We can figure out the why later. Right now, Jasper needs our help."

Spike, ever the observer, leaned in, his confusion evident. "Yeah, what's the deal with that, mate? You should be healing up nicely."

At the mention of blood, a loud rumble broke the silence, but it wasn't a growl of threat or fear. Jasper's stomach betrayed him, echoing through the room with an undeniable hunger.

Jasper, cheeks coloring with a mix of embarrassment and frustration, admitted, "I... I'm sorry. I'm still hungry."

Xander, seizing the opportunity to lighten the mood, quipped with a grin, "Guess you can't snack on the humans, huh?"

Jasper's response came quick, tinged with indignation, "I'm a vegetarian, Xander!"

The room fell into a tense silence at Jasper's outburst, a mix of surprise and curiosity painting their faces. Buffy, caught between confusion and intrigue, turned towards Giles for clarity. "Vegetarian vampires? That's a thing?"

Giles, pushing up his glasses with a finger, let out a weary sigh, the corner of his mouth twitching in a reluctant smile. "Yes, Buffy. Apparently, Jasper belongs to a family of vampires who abstain from drinking human blood for ethical reasons." His explanation, delivered in a tone both exasperated and impressed, underscored the uniqueness of Jasper's situation.

The mood shifted, the weight of the moment lightened by the revelation and Xander's timely humour. Even in the face of bewildering information, the group found a way to connect through shared, albeit surprised, laughter. Despite the gravity of their supernatural lives, there was always room for understanding and amusement at the unexpected.

Willow approached Jasper with a mug of warmed pig's blood, offering it with a sympathetic smile. Jasper accepted it gratefully, though a pang of embarrassment shot through him as he consumed it under their watchful eyes. It felt too intimate, too revealing, to partake in such a necessary yet private act in front of others.

Spike, leaning nonchalantly against the fridge, remarked, "That's the last of the blood in the fridge, mate." His tone carried a hint of annoyance but underlying concern.

Jasper nodded silently, his eyes downcast, the warm mug a small comfort against the cold swirl of shame and vulnerability enveloping him. Tears, those bewildering signs of distress, continued to stream down his face. He wiped them away angrily, frustrated by his inability to control his emotions. "Shouldn't be able to cry," he muttered to himself.

Giles caught the muttered remark, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean, Jasper? Why shouldn't you be able to cry?"

Jasper hesitated, caught off guard by the question. Revealing more about his physiology seemed inevitable now. Taking a deep breath, he began to explain the concept of vampire venom in his world, how it pooled in their eyes but never manifested as tears.

"Wait, what?" Spike's incredulity sliced through Jasper's explanation. "Vampires don't have venom, mate. And we most definitely can cry."

The skepticism in Spike's voice felt like a widening gap, isolating Jasper further in this world so different from his own. His heart sank as he realized that understanding might be more elusive than he had hoped.

Sensing the growing tension, Giles intervened, a calming presence. "Let's hear Jasper out," he suggested.

As Jasper delved deeper, Willow's fascination was palpable. Her gaze, wide with amazement, was fixed on Jasper, particularly as tears — or venom? — leaked from his eyes. Overcome by impulse, she reached out, her fingers hovering near his cheek in a gesture of wonder and empathy.

Jasper's reaction was immediate and visceral. A hiss escaped him as he instinctively grabbed Willow's hand, startling her.

At that moment, Spike, perhaps intending a rebuke, swatted at Jasper's head, only to recoil with a scream of pain, clutching his head as if struck by an unseen force. The room froze, the action unexpected and alarming.

Xander, despite the tension, couldn't resist lightening the mood. "Looks like Spike forgot about his chip," he quipped, a brief laugh breaking the silence.

Buffy, amidst the chaos, stood with furrowed brows, demanding clarity. "What's going on here?" she asked, her voice cutting through the confusion.

Giles stepped forward. "It seems that something about Jasper causes Spike's chip to react as if he were human," he explained. "This happened earlier today while you were away, Buffy."

The room, filled with a mix of shock, curiosity, and a touch of humor, seemed to collectively take a breath. The incident underscored the complexities of their situation — navigating a world where vampires cried tears of venom, chips reacted to unexpected stimuli, and their understanding was continually tested.