Chapter Three


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She avoided her friends’ questions for all of about five minutes while she hurriedly ate a snack but as soon as she was done, they swarmed into the kitchen, eager to hear her update.

“So, were there any more uber-vamps?” Xander asked.

“No, it was fine. I got in and out with no trouble.”

“And how is he?” Willow asked, seeming genuinely worried about Spike’s wellbeing.

“It’s bad,” Buffy admitted with a grimace.

“Like bad-fight-with-a-demon bad? Or Glory bad?” Xander quipped.

“Worse,” she replied seriously, running a hand through her hair, “Really of the worse.”

“But he’ll heal,” Dawn remarked, “Won’t he?”

“Of course he will. In a few days maybe.”

There was a silence and she sighed, wiping her tired eyes.

“You need to rest.”

She jumped at Xander’s voice and sat up quickly.

“I’m fine.”

“You look beat.”

“I’ll rest later,” she said, adding “Promise” when he seemed uncertain.

Apparently pleased with her report, Willow and Xander disappeared, leaving the two sisters alone in a drawn-out silence.

“He is going to be okay, isn’t he?” Dawn asked, turning to Buffy, eyes searching hers.

“If I’ve got anything to do with it, he will be.”

“Good,” Dawn remarked, getting to her feet, “I don’t have to feel sorry for him. I can go back to hating him.”



Silenced by her sister’s harsh words, it took Buffy a moment to recover and to grab her sister’s arm before she could leave the kitchen.

“Dawn.”

“Don’t try and change my mind.”

She almost wanted to smile as Dawn squared up to her, crossing her arms across her chest and giving her a bucketload of teenage attitude. Instead, she took Dawn’s arm and guided her back onto the stool.

“Why do you want to hate him so badly?” she asked quietly, holding her sister’s arm tighter when she tried to pull away.

“Well, I’m sorry if I don’t just forget that he tried to rape you.”

She sighed and released her sister, running her hand through her hair. She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to her sister, pleading with her silently to listen.

“Dawn, I don’t know what Xander told you about what happened… but even Xander doesn’t know what happened that night.”

“So Spike didn’t try to rape you?” Dawn asked pointedly, crossing her arms once more.

There was no way she could deny it and she hesitated, trying to find some way to explain to her sister. She knew exactly how Dawn felt – had felt the sting of betrayal even deeper – but she could not put into words the hundreds of explanations and nuances and justifications she had spent months churning around in her mind. No-one would ever understand what had happened that night in the bathroom except her and Spike.

“Look, Dawnie, just… please go easy on Spike.”

“Why should I? You’re crazy!”



She sighed and forced herself to take another calming breath before facing her sister again.

“Dawn, it’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” Dawn asked, not softening in the slightest.

“Okay, Dawnie, listen. Spike and me… we messed each other up. But it’s different now. He has a soul.”

“I don’t see-“

“Dawnie, please. He’s trying to be different and I want to give him a chance.”

“You do love him.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes impatiently before turning her attention back to her sister.

“Please just go easy on him. For me.”

Dawn grumbled something that sounded vaguely like agreement and then turned and flounced off, leaving a very tired Buffy alone in the kitchen.

She sank her head in her hands and let her shoulders sag, the energy that had been propelling her through this day failing. She could hear the sounds of girls’ voices in the background as she stared at the worktop and she sighed, wondering how much longer she could take this. She was desperately in need of a good night’s sleep but the injured vampire in her bed put paid to any thought of that. She would have to watch him through the night anyway, make sure that he was doing okay. She sure wasn’t made for nursing, but the thought of passing this duty over to anyone else made her uneasy.

It wasn’t just the idea that the First might make him dangerous again either. Nor was it the fact that no-one felt quite comfortable around Spike, although that helped. If she could explain the feeling, she would describe it as a type of possessiveness. Spike was hers: her responsibility and hers to look after. It was somewhat unsettling and spurred her out of her stool and towards the stairs, her sore muscles aching for a hot shower.



Twenty minutes later, she dragged herself out of the shower, hardly feeling the better for it. She wrapped her robe around herself and tied her wet hair into a sloppy ponytail and left the bathroom, marvelling at the quiet that had descended over the house. She could hear the faint sounds of voices downstairs but it was quieter than ever and she drank it in with relish.

Tiptoeing to her room, she pushed open the door and slipped inside, her gaze flicking to the sleeping vampire and away again when she had ascertained that he was still sleeping soundly. She crept over to her drawers and quickly found some loose trousers and a vest top, glancing over her shoulder at Spike as she closed the drawer. He hadn’t moved or made a sound and she smiled softly, clutching her clothes in her hand. She glanced at him again and after a moment’s hesitation, she slipped her trousers on under her robe. She quickly looked at him again just before she swiftly slipped her robe off and replaced it with her top and smiled at herself as she did; after all, it wasn’t as if Spike would see anything he hadn’t seen a million times before.

Shaking her head as memories threatened to crowd in on her, she laid her robe on a chair and moved over to the bed, watching over the sleeping vampire with a tiny smile. She perched on the edge of the bed and swept her eyes over his battered form before returning her gaze to his swollen eye and his bruised lip. Frowning, she reached out and brushed her fingers gently over the edge of the bruise around his eye.



When his hand flew out and grabbed her arm, she jumped and froze as he started up, his eye flying open. After a few long seconds, he relaxed but did not release her hand as he sank back against the pillows.

“Buffy?” he got out, as if he wasn’t quite sure it was her, even as his grip tightened on her wrist.

“I was just, erm, checking on you,” she said quietly.

“You…” he trailed off, his gaze flicking around the room and back to her once more, “Thought it was a dream.”

She paused for a moment, processing his words, and then she frowned.

“You thought me coming for you was just a dream?” she asked, seeking confirmation, “You thought you were still there?”

“Yeah,” he choked out weakly, sinking further into the pillows, his hand releasing her.

“Well, it wasn’t,” she remarked firmly, “You’re here and you’re not going anywhere.”

He was silent, his eyes closed, and she thought maybe he had fallen asleep again, but he finally spoke up after a pause.

“Why?” he whispered, opening his eye and finding her again.

“I did what I had to do,” she replied softly, forcing herself to hold his gaze. He nodded and fell silent again, his raspy breathing the only sound in the room for a long few minutes.

“I should go. Let you get some sleep,” she commented, breaking the silence decisively, already halfway on her feet.

“Stay.”

His hand reached out and caught her again and she paused for a split second before sinking back on to the bed.

“Okay.”

He sank back against the pillows once more, his fingers just resting against her wrist as his eye fluttered shut sleepily. He lasted a few more minutes before exhaustion caught up with him again and he fell into a fitful sleep as she watched over him in silence.