Disclaimer: All the characters and dialog that I borrowed is Joss Whedon's creation, not mine.

Thanks so much, oh great BSV reviewers, for all your encouraging words!

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Chapter 3
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Spike held Buffy for what felt like hours, until she unwound herself from him and got up, looking around her uncomfortably. She circled the room aimlessly, sometimes making a low sound in her throat. Spike watched her, trying to figure out what she needed, when it suddenly occurred to him that she probably needed to use the loo. Which was a problem, since his crypt lacked that particular feature. He looked around and found an old bucket in a corner, which he put in the opening of the tunnel, out of sight behind a wall hanging. Buffy looked at him helplessly, and he took her hand and led her over to his improvised bathroom. “Here, um… you can do… that is.” God, this is fucking awkward. “You can use this to relieve yourself in. Do you understand?” She stared at him for a moment, then at the bucket, then understanding dawned on her face. He quickly turned and fled back to the other room as she started lifting her dress, heedless of the audience. He paced nervously, running his hand through his hair and dying for a cigarette. He heard a small sound and turned to see that she had come back into the main room looking less uncomfortable, but still lost. She went back to the chair and sat down, pulling up her knees and rocking again. Spike’s nose told him that she had availed herself of his facilities, meager though they were, but now he was back to wondering what to do with her.
 
Just then he heard his crypt door open and Xander’s voice call out, “Spike? Where are you?” Buffy jumped and clutched her knees tighter, her eyes wide with fear.
 
“Stay there! Be right up!” Spike called. To Buffy he said, “Your mates are here, love. Just sit tight. I’ll go bring them down, yeah?” Buffy showed no sign of understanding and continued her frightened quivering. Reluctantly Spike left her and dashed up the ladder.
 
“Where is she?” Willow asked frantically, peering around the dim crypt.
 
“Red, Harris, listen a moment,” Spike said, moving over to them. “She’s downstairs in my bedroom, but…”
 
“Then let us by already,” Xander said impatiently, trying to push Spike out of the way.
 
“Listen!” Spike snarled, grabbing him by the shirt to stop him. “She’s not herself. She hasn’t spoken a word, she doesn’t seem to understand what’s going on, and she’s terrified. If you go rushing down there like a goddamn bull in a china shop you’re going to scare the girl even more.”
 
“Fine, we’ll be quiet,” Willow said. “But we need to see her!”
 
“First, do you want to tell me why a woman who’s been dead for five months showed up in my crypt?” Spike nearly growled.
 
“We did a resurrection spell,” Willow said, unable to completely conceal her pride. “We couldn’t bear the idea of her being trapped in some hell dimension. So I did a spell, and we got her out.”
 
Spike’s mouth dropped open as he shook his head. “And you didn’t tell me. I worked beside you, all summer, and you didn’t tell me.” His eyes registered his feelings of disbelief and betrayal.
 
“Well now you know,” snapped Xander. “Can we save this discussion for later?”
 
“This sort of shit always has consequences,” Spike muttered. Turning, he led them to the stairs. “Down here. Just please, don’t overwhelm her, okay?”
 
“Spike, we’re her friends,” Willow said. “She’s got to know we mean her no harm.”
 
At the first sound of Willow’s voice, Buffy had scrambled off the chair into a far corner of the room, covering her head with her arms and trying to make herself into a small ball. It’s the bad one, the one who pulled me out, and the angel is talking to her. Why is the angel talking to her? Did I make him mad? She whimpered and shook, hoping the voice would go away.
 
Spike came down the stairs as quietly as he could, although the anxious Scoobies made a noise like a herd of buffalo. “Buffy?” he said, scanning the room for her. His heart broke as he saw that she was once again petrified. He walked slowly over to her and knelt at her side. “Some visitors to see you, love.” He gently stroked her hair, trying to get her to look up.
 
“Buffy?” Willow said, kneeling down in front of her. “It’s me, Willow. Me and Xander are here. Do you remember us?” Buffy cringed back away from her, toward Spike, her eyes wild in her pale face. “Buffy, it’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.” Willow reached out and put her hand on Buffy’s shoulder.
 
At the touch Buffy screeched and lashed out, kicking Willow in the gut and sending her flying into Xander and sending them both tumbling to the ground. She jumped up and leaped on top of Willow, trying to strangle her as Xander called, “Buffy! Stop!” Buffy let go to draw her arm back for a blow. Willow’s eyes briefly went dark and she said, “Avert!” in a low voice. Buffy’s punch hit an invisible barrier and she screamed in pain as the bandages ripped off her knuckles and they started bleeding again.
 
Spike finally managed to catch her from behind and pull her away from the startled witch. “Buffy, stop, it’s alright,” he soothed. He turned her to face him. “Listen to me. You mustn’t hurt them, alright? You’re safe here, but you can’t hurt them. Do you understand?” Buffy stared at his stern face and started crying. I did make the angel mad. He’s going to leave me here. I’m sorry, I’m sorry… But where she expected the angel to cast her away, instead he drew her close and rocked her. He turned to Xander and said, “Go upstairs, now. Get away from her.”
 
“Who do you think you are?” Xander asked indignantly.
 
Spike’s eyes flashed yellow in anger. “I’m the one she’s clinging to right now. Clearly, she’s afraid of you. Just go upstairs, alright? I’ll come up and discuss this with you when she calms down, which will happen faster if you two get the fuck out of her face. Now.” Frowning, Xander helped the shaken Willow to her feet and up the stairs, shooting dirty looks at Spike the whole time. Spike, however, was completely focused on the weeping, hysterical Slayer. She was holding him so tight he thought his ribs might crack and she was sobbing as if her heart would break. He scooped her up from the floor and placed her gently on the bed. “Be right back, love. I promise.” She didn’t respond except to continue her heart wrenching sobs, curled up under the quilt.
 
Upstairs, Willow was gasping for breath through a painfully bruised windpipe. “Wills, are you alright?” Xander asked, alarmed.
 
“Think so,” she rasped. “What the heck was that about?”
 
Xander’s reply was cut short by the appearance of one highly angry vampire. “What the fuck did you do?”
 
“What did we do?” Xander sputtered. “We rescued her from hell. What did you do to her?”
 
“I cleaned her up and bandaged her hands after she dug her way out of her fucking coffin!” Spike exploded. “Having been there, I can tell you, it’s not something you shake off in five minutes!”
 
Willow gasped in horror and Xander shook his head in disbelief. “Oh no,” he breathed. “No. Jesus, how could we have been so stupid.”
 
“But why would she attack me?” Willow wondered. “We saw her last night. She was in total Slayer mode. How come she ripped those demons to shreds but didn’t attack you?”
 
“I don’t know,” Spike admitted. “But she’s completely lost, Red. Doesn’t seem to recognize her name, doesn’t know who I am, hasn’t spoken a bloody word. She’s petrified. Whatever she’s gone through, it’s driven her completely out of her mind.”
 
“Do we… do we know that it’s her? I mean, really her?” Xander asked quietly. “Maybe… maybe the spell didn’t work right.”
 
Willow opened her mouth to protest but Spike spoke up first. “It’s her. I’d know her anywhere. She’s as human as she ever was. Physically, she’s fine. Mentally…”
 
“She’s not so fine,” Willow concluded. “Maybe there’s a spell that would...”
 
“No,” Spike said fiercely. “I’ll not have you tinkering with the girl like she’s some sort of broken machine. We need to give her a chance to get her bearings, see if she remembers anything before we muck things up worse.”
 
“She’s our friend!” Xander cried. “Where do you get off ordering us around?”
 
Spike rolled his eyes to the heavens. “Look, I’m not kidnapping the bint, alright? But so far, when she was with me she was quiet. I got her to eat something, got her bandaged up. You walked in, and she freaked, for whatever reason. All I’m asking is that you just leave her here for another day or two, see if she comes to herself a bit more. Safer all around.”
 
“You don’t seriously think we’re going to trust you alone with her?” Xander spat at him.
 
“You want to take her home like this? What happens if she goes after you again? Or Dawn?” Willow started guiltily at that. “Nibblet doesn’t know her big sis is back, does she?”
 
“We… she didn’t know. She wasn’t in on this, and we haven’t told her yet. We wanted to know if it worked,” Willow admitted.
 
“Please,” Spike said. “Just… give her another day or two. She needs to recover. I promise you, I’ll guard her with my life. Unlife,” he corrected.
 
Xander opened his mouth to protest further but Willow stopped him. “Xander, let’s just go,” Willow said. “We’ll come back tomorrow. But so help me, if you hurt her I’ll…”
 
“Turn me into a newt. Got it,” Spike said. “I’ll get in touch if anything changes. And you might want to consider letting Bit in on all this. Girl’s got a right to know her sister’s back.”
 
“We’ll see you later,” Willow said, tugging on Xander’s arm. Xander was still clearly not on board with leaving Buffy with Spike, but Willow persisted until Xander reluctantly followed.
 
“Willow, we can’t just leave her here!” Xander insisted as they got outside.
 
“She won’t be here for long,” Willow said. “I’ve got some ideas.” They headed home in Xander’s car, with Xander wondering the whole way whether this whole resurrection deal had been the right thing to do.
 
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As soon as the others left Spike headed back downstairs to find Buffy where he had left her, still curled up and crying as if she would never stop. He hesitated a moment, then got in bed beside her, pulling her close and holding her, desperately wishing there was something more he could do.
 
Buffy was lost in a sea of despair and confusion. When her angel had come downstairs leading her tormentor and some unknown person who seemed loud and angry, she had felt betrayed. Why would he bring them here? He said he would protect me. She saw no choice but to defend herself, but then the red haired one had said something and suddenly her hand was hurting again and the angel was pulling her back. She had done something wrong, and the angel was in league with them, and she thought she would surely be punished further. But then he had cradled her again, put her back on the soft place, and left her. She didn’t know what to make of it. The angel was yelling at the others, and although she didn’t understand all the words she knew that the angel was angry at them, not at her. But why did he bring them here in the first place? Her clouded mind couldn’t make any sense of the situation. She finally broke down, weeping because she didn’t understand, and she was lost, and didn’t know what anyone wanted of her, and why she was here. The weight of the whole situation crashed upon her and she sobbed so hard that she at first didn’t even notice Spike climbing into bed next to her. But when she felt his strong arms around her, enfolding her and stroking her back, she finally started to calm down. The tears tapered off gradually to gasps and hiccups as she clung to Spike’s chest.
 
“What are we to do with you, love?” he wondered aloud. “Don’t know how to reach you.” When she finally stopped completely, she looked up at Spike with a mixture of gratitude and continued confusion. Spike looked at her carefully, stroking her face. “Buffy. Your name is Buffy. Buffy Summers. You’re the Slayer. Your sister is Dawn. Do you understand me love?” She wrinkled her brow, trying to grasp his meaning. Spike tried again, putting a hand on her chest. “Buffy. That’s you. Buffy.”
 
Buffy frowned, concentrating. The angel clearly wanted something from her. That sound that meant her, somehow. “B..Buffy,” she said in the barest of whispers.
 
And oh, the angel’s face lit up and his blue eyes glowed with pleasure at the sound. “That’s right. That’s my girl. You’re Buffy.” He took her hand and put it on his chest. “Spike. I’m Spike. Can you say that?” But just as suddenly as the understanding had come upon her it left, leaving her lost and confused again. Spike sighed, but tried to keep the smile on his face. “’S alright love. You’ll get it.” He sat up and helped her up as well. “Maybe we should try to get you out of those dusty clothes, yeah?” He had the thought that maybe getting her into something more like her usual garb might help her relax a bit.
 
He got up and gestured to her to stay on the bed. He went to a large chest of drawers he had scavenged some time ago and rummaged around in the very bottom. Paydirt. I knew some of her stuff was still in there. Harmony had been a major clothes horse, and some of her things had gotten left behind. Spike picked out a pair of gray sweatpants that were unique among Harmony’s clothing in that they didn’t have a sodding unicorn on them. He paired that with a black t-shirt from his own steadily dwindling pile. Moving back to where Buffy was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him curiously, he put the clothes down and helped her up.
 
“Hope you won’t stake me for this later,” he muttered as he unzipped the back of her dress. He eased it off of her, helping her step out of it, trying with all his might to look anywhere but at her body. She was pale as he was, and skinny to the point of unhealthiness, but he still found himself battling a raging hard-on. Steady, William. Girl’s traumatized, remember? With a deep breath, he helped her step into the sweats and pulled them up, then helped her into the t-shirt. Her expression during all this was one of puzzlement, but she ran her hands over the soft sweats with what seemed like a pleased look. “Thought you might be more comfortable in that than in your dress,” he said, folding up the severe black number. “Makes you look more like I remember you.”
 
He sat her down in his chair and fed her a cup of instant noodle soup with water heated in his electric teakettle. “Don’t tell the others that I still like a spot of tea sometimes, alright love?” he said with a smirk. “Got a reputation to maintain. Don’t want them to think I’m like Rupert, even if I am English.” Buffy looked at him with a half smile, even though she had no idea what he was getting at. The sound of his voice soothed her, assured her that she would be cared for until she could get back to where she had been. While she was finishing, Spike went upstairs and grabbed a container of blood for himself, drinking it off quickly before he dashed back downstairs. Don’t know how she’ll react to my diet, he reasoned. Best keep it under wraps for now.
 
Buffy was downing the last of the soup when he returned. “All done?” he asked. She cocked her head, then handed him the cup, smiling when he did. “Let’s see those hands now,” he said after he dealt with the dishes. The hand that had hit Willow’s magical force field was still oozing a bit, so he rebandaged it, putting more ointment on and wrapping it gently. The other hand was halfway healed, he was pleased to see. “Your Slayer healing seems to have made the journey alright,” he commented. When he was finished he arranged her on the bed again and sat behind her to brush out her long hair. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation as he brushed and talked. “Used to do this for Dru when she was upset,” he said softly. “Could plait and unplait her hair for hours. Soothed us both sometimes.” He kept brushing her hair for a long time, talking in a low voice the whole time. He rambled from one topic to another, talking about Dawn’s new school, their battles over the summer, Giles’ return to England. Buffy showed no sign of comprehension, although she clearly was enjoying the sensation of the brush running through her hair.
 
Finally, Spike skillfully braided her hair in a single plait down her back, securing it with a stray rubber band from his collection of odds and ends. “There, love. Pretty as a picture.” She turned at his gentle words to stare at him. She reached out and touched his face, tentatively at first. She ran her fingers through his blond curls, drew her fingers down his cheek, traced the lines of his eyebrows, while Spike closed his eyes and reveled in it. Her soft hands, touching him tenderly, fulfilled about a dozen of his whiskey fueled fantasies. When her fluttering fingers touched his lips he sighed gently, opening his eyes to focus on her face. So fucking gorgeous. Give my fangs to have you doing this for real. Taking her hand in his he planted a gentle kiss to her fingertips, then reluctantly moved her hand down to her lap. When she looked confused and hurt he smiled and said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just need to get up for a moment, okay?” She smiled back, understanding that the angel wasn’t upset with her. Spike got up, needing to move a bit to settle his own nerves. Buffy wrapped her arms around her knees and watched as Spike moved around, tidying the room. He chatted about this and that while he picked up his clothes, tossed empty whiskey bottles in the trash, and otherwise cleaned up the wreck that was his bachelor pad.
 
Buffy tried with all her might to concentrate on what the pale, beautiful man was doing. Flashes of memory flitted across her mind. A tall woman and a brown haired girl. The angel. The angel was keeping the woman and the girl safe. Mother. He protected my mother. She winced as she remembered being ripped from her mother’s presence. She had known with perfect clarity the depth and perfection of her mother’s love while she was in that realm of light, and to lose that had been excruciating. She didn’t remember who the girl was, but she knew that the angel had helped her protect them. Was that before I went to the good place? What happened before that? She shook her head, tears of frustration starting to form in the corners of her eyes. Where is this place? Why don’t I remember? She squeezed her knees tighter, trying to keep from bursting into tears again.
 
Spike closed his drawers and turned to notice her tears. He sat down beside her and once more gathered her in. “Ah, love, don’t cry. We’ll get you back. I swear we’ll get you back.” Buffy took this to mean that he was going to return her to her reward, and took comfort in that and in his arms.
 
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“Did you find her? Is she really back?” Anya asked as Willow, Xander, and Tara trooped into the Magic Box. After leaving Spike’s crypt, the two Scoobies had picked up Tara, called Anya to meet them at the Magic Box, and hurried over for a conference on the whole situation.
 
“She’s alive, but I’m not sure she’s back, exactly,” Willow began.
 
“What do you mean?” Tara asked.
 
“She’s… not herself. At all,” Willow explained. “She doesn’t seem to know who she is or where she is. She attacked me, actually.”
 
“Oh goddess, are you okay?” Tara said, noticing the bruises on Willow’s neck for the first time.
 
“Yeah, although I had to use a shielding spell. Spike got her off me at that point and she just… broke down.”
 
“But why did she go to Spike’s place?” Anya wondered. “I mean, you’d think the last thing she’d want after being in hell would be to be in a crypt with a vampire.”
 
“That’s what I would have thought,” Xander put in. “But she attacked us, and grabbed onto him like a life ring. Spike was of the opinion that was because he understood what she went through.”
 
“You mean being dead?” Anya asked.
 
“Well, more like, um…” Xander paused, still feeling sick about the circumstances of her resurrection. “More like when she had to dig herself out of her coffin.”
 
Anya and Tara both gasped. “Oh no,” Tara said. “How could we… Willow, did you know that would happen?”
 
“I… I guess I overlooked that aspect,” Willow admitted reluctantly. “I was so concerned with getting all the details of the spell right, I just didn’t think about the mechanics of the… reanimation.”
 
“Do you think she’ll get over it?” Anya asked. “I mean, I remember a couple of vengeance jobs with being buried alive, and they didn’t end so well.”
 
Willow shook her head. “I really don’t know. It’s like she’s… feral. She has the Slayer instincts, which really helped out with those demons and all, but she doesn’t know her name, or us, and she hasn’t spoken. At least according to Spike.”
 
“Who I so do not think is the person who should be looking after her!” Xander protested. “He could be trying to keep her like that for all we know, or telling her we’re evil or something.”
 
“Xander, I really don’t think Spike would do that,” Tara objected.
 
“Why not? Perfect opportunity to create a real live Buffybot of his own. If she’s not in touch with reality, what’s to stop him from creating a reality for her where he’s her main man?” Xander snapped.
 
“Do you think she’s safe?” Willow asked. “If we bring her home, what if she hurts Dawn or someone else? It might be better just to…”
 
Tara’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t seriously be thinking about killing her again. Tell me you’re not even considering that.”
 
“No!” Willow exclaimed. “No. I just worry. What do we do if she’s insane forever? How can we even send her to a hospital if she’s out of control, homicidal, and super strong?”
 
“Look, we don’t know that she’s going to be permanently insane,” Tara reasoned. “She’s been alive again for less than twenty four hours. I think we need to give it some more time.”
 
“Could you do some kind of healing spell on her?” Anya asked.
 
“We could try,” Willow said. “There are spells meant to calm the distressed. It wouldn’t hurt.”
 
“I really think she’d be better off in her own house,” Xander insisted. “Living in a crypt isn’t exactly the recipe for mental well-being.”
 
“Why don’t we try the healing spell on her first?” Tara said. “If it calms her down, then maybe we can bring her home. And when are we going to tell Dawn about all this?” she added.
 
“We’ll tell Dawn when we know we’re bringing her home,” Willow decided. “We don’t need her dashing off to Spike’s crypt as well.”
 
“Then let’s get the healing spell stuff together and go over there this evening,” Tara said. “Hopefully she’ll have improved a bit and will let us get near enough to do the spell.” The witches and Anya moved to the bookshelves to start looking up spells and ingredients, while Xander paced and frowned some more.

TBC