Chapter One


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Somehow – although she wasn’t entirely sure how – she managed to get Spike across town safely, back to her house. He had been unusually quiet, but she attributed it to the fact that he had been tortured for days and was too weak to talk. He clung to her tightly, most of his weight resting on her shoulders where his arm draped across her and she tightened her grip on his waistband, trying to hold him on his weary feet as best she could.

Somehow they reached Revello Drive and she breathed a sigh of relief as she helped him up the front steps. She stepped away from him to open the door and was startled a moment later when his hand locked around her wrist in a tight grip. Her instinctive reaction was fear mingled with anger but as soon as she turned to face him, it disappeared as she took in the lost, desperate look on his face.

He gripped her tighter, as if to reassure himself that she was really there, and as she remembered his almost fevered words in the cave, her expression softened into one of sympathy. The First had obviously been playing with his mind as well as abusing his body. She turned to face him fully, reaching out her free hand and pressing it to one of the small spaces of unharmed skin on his shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’m here and you’re okay now.”

He gave her a shocked look out of his one good eye and she smiled softly, stroking her fingers gently over his skin and then drawing back. She wrapped her arm around him again and felt him lean into her, his head bowing, his body shaking with emotion once more. And it cut her to the quick. That he would think she would not come for him.



The only words he had spoken through their long, painful journey across town had been a tortured cry of ‘you came for me’. And it broke her heart to think that he thought so little of himself. Thought so little of her. Getting him out of that cave had been at the forefront of her mind since he had been taken – it had become her obsession, all she could think about in the dark silence of her room.

And yet he had been tortured and beaten and, somewhere along the line, had seemed to have lost faith in her. It hurt more than she could understand: that he didn’t believe she would come for him. They had had their bad times – and were still recovering from the last – but she was not so heartless as to leave him for the First to destroy. Yet he seemed to think so.

Pushing the unsettling thoughts away, she tightened her grip on him and nudged the front door open with her shoulder, guiding them both through it – and into a crowd of people. Her friends and the Potentials gathered around them anxiously, making it hard to move or even to breathe. She felt Spike recoil from them, his eyes fixed on the floor and she laid a gentle hand on his arm, trying to calm him.

“Are you okay?”

“Did you see the First?”

“Man, he looks bad.”

“Is he really a vampire?”

She couldn’t take the torrent of questions, voices, anymore and could feel Spike leaning on her even more so she shouted above the crowd.

“Guys!”



There was silence within seconds and she breathed a sigh of relief. She looked around the group and then focused her attention on her friends.

“I’m fine, but Spike needs help. I’m going to need bandages and water and, I don’t know, anything you can find.”

She was already moving again, trying her best not to aggravate any of his injuries as she manoeuvred Spike through the crowd of girls – all of them staring at him, some in wonder, some in fear.

“Where are you taking him?” Xander asked and she had to grit her teeth when she heard the slight disapproval in her friend’s voice.

“My room, so he can get some peace and quiet.”

Her tone invited no argument and she was glad when none came, instead focussing her energy on moving Spike as the group went into action behind her.



She finally got him into her bedroom and lowered him onto the bed, trying hard not to hurt him anymore as she guided him to lie down on the covers. Exhausted, his eyes fell shut and he just laid there, his body limp. She stepped back and really took him in for the first time, something causing a sharp twinge inside her when she looked at the intricate patterns traced in his pale skin.

He had been cut to bleed and they had done a good job by the looks of it – the cuts weren’t too shallow, nor too deep and they had avoided most major arteries. Then there were the bruises, colouring his alabaster skin with shades of blue, purple, yellow. Whoever – whatever – had done this to him, it had been ruthless. She felt a lump in her throat and she swallowed it back nervously, forcing herself into motion. She knelt by the bed and untied the laces of his boots, slipping them from his feet and placing them down side by side at the end of the bed.

“Buffy,” he got out in a whisper and she got to her feet, moving round to where he could see her. His one good eye opened a crack and he took her in with a look of such awe it caught her breath.

“You came,” he choked out in disbelief.

“I came,” she whispered back, moving hesitantly to sit on the edge of the bed. She laid a hand against his shoulder and after his instinctive flinch, he relaxed, letting out a long, shaky breath.

“Shouldn’t have come… for me,” he murmured weakly, struggling to get the words out, “M’not… not worth it… M’a bad man… dangerous.”

“No, you’re not,” she cut in firmly, “That was just the First playing with you. I trust you, Spike.”

One blue eye fixed on hers and then he looked away, convulsing with emotion – a choked sob breaking past his lips. Uncomfortable, she jumped to her feet and began to pace, waiting for the supplies.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, not sure if she was trying to reassure herself or Spike, “It’s okay now.”