Dawn ran through Restfield Cemetery, swiping angrily at the tears that sprang unbidden to her eyes, blurring her vision and filling her deliberately hardened heart with confusion.

She had imagined a dozen times how she would react if Spike ever had the nerve to return to Sunnydale, after what he had tried to do to Buffy. She had silently vowed that their friendship was over; she would never be able to talk to him, even look at him the same way, knowing the trauma he had put her sister through. She had even planned a speech, warning Spike against ever trying to harm Buffy again, complete with chilling, age-inappropriate threats and all.

At least…she *hoped* it was chilling.

She’d never had the chance to actually test the speech out – until tonight. And somehow, none of the words felt right anymore, not when faced with Spike in the strange, troubling condition he was in, huddled in the basement, trembling and muttering and completely out of it.

But that didn’t make his betrayal, followed by his abandonment, hurt any less.

She cursed softly under her breath as she stumbled again, catching herself on a nearby tombstone before she could fall, frustrated with her own clumsiness that was making her retreat back to the safety of her bedroom take far longer than it should have.

A subtle but powerful shift of emotion took Dawn’s frustration and twisted it, wringing from it an unexpected torrent of tears. Deep, wrenching sobs overcame her, and without any warning, the girl found herself leaning on the grave marker with both hands, doubled over, her shoulders shaking as she cried out her hurt and confusion.

She was strangely unsurprised when strong, gentle hands took her arms and drew her back up straight, pulling her in close against a cool, muscular chest. Her shattered heart was screaming at her to pull away, to hit him, to prevent him from offering the same comfort he had offered her during those dark months after Buffy’s death – but at the same time, her heart craved it, her tears flowing more freely with mingled pain and relief as for a brief moment, she felt herself beginning to melt into his embrace…

With a violent shove against his chest she struggled to pull away, protesting in a voice that trembled with rage, “No! Take your hands off me, I don’t want you to…”

Her words trailed off, her eyes widening as she looked up at the face of the vampire holding her – to see that it was not Spike at all, but a stranger, leering at her through glittering, greedy golden eyes.

“Of course you don’t,” the vampire sneered, his hands hardening on her arms as she struggled, though her feeble human attempts required very little effort on his part to hold her. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Panic seized her, and Dawn fought for her life with all her strength for a few moments longer, before realizing that her efforts were useless against the creature’s demonic strength, and instead falling back on the best weapon at her disposal, a method that almost never failed to bring about results.

She screamed.

The vampire winced at the bloodcurdling sound, inches from his ear, and faltered enough to allow her to get one arm free – which she promptly used to punch him in the face, following up the blow with a hard stomp to the vampire’s instep.

Of course, the latter would have been more effective had the vampire not been wearing combat boots.

“Okay, getting annoying, little girl,” the vampire snarled, catching her free wrist and twisting her arm up behind her back, pushing her forward to trap her other arm between her body and the headstone. “Time to eat…”

Dawn felt rather than saw the vampire’s fangs descending toward her throat, his tepid breath dampening her skin and sending a shudder of revulsion through her as she drew in the breath for one last scream…

But she never got the chance to let it out.

Dawn collapsed forward across the headstone as the strong hands that had held her in place suddenly disintegrated, just so much dust blowing away in the night wind. Gasping for breath, Dawn whirled around, her back to the stone, her eyes wide, fully expecting to find herself face to face with her furious older sister.

But it wasn’t Buffy.

It was Spike.

Dawn just stared at him for a long moment in silence, struggling to come to terms with the tumult of anger and resentment and gratitude and relief whirling around in her mind and heart. Spike just looked at her, his blue gaze somehow bright and dull at the same time. It was no consolation to Dawn that the blond vampire seemed more confused than she was.

“Couldn’t let him hurt the girl,” Spike muttered, breaking eye contact and looking away, suddenly awkward and uncomfortable with her acute attention.

Dawn was quiet for a moment, taking in the fact that Spike was apparently back in the grips of whatever insanity seemed to have overtaken him in the school basement. Finally she spoke, her young voice trembling but hard as she informed him, “Just because you saved me, don’t think that changes anything. I still hate you.”

Spike nodded once, resigned, without looking up at her. His softly spoken answer almost escaped Dawn’s hearing with the wind whipping about the two of them, but she just barely caught the single word…and her heart skipped a beat when she heard it.

“Should.”

A part of Dawn’s heart broke at the sorrow, the desolation, in Spike’s voice, and she found herself, in spite of her anger with him, wanting to reach out to him, to reassure him by contradicting his self-condemnation.

“D-deserve it,” Spike added, his voice barely over a whisper. “Hurt the girl…”

“Hmm…sounds like a plan.”

Dawn and Spike both looked up sharply at the stranger’s voice, to find themselves surrounded by several large vampires. The wind and the dark and the intensity of the moment had kept either of them from noticing until it was far too late to get away. Now, they were closed in on all sides by at least seven vamps…and Spike did not appear to be in much of a condition to fight them all.

“Oh, sorry…didn’t mean to interrupt,” the vampire who had spoken smirked at Spike. “I mean…if you were going to…but…but something tells me, no.”

Spike did not respond, though Dawn noticed with some relief that he took a couple of sideways steps to place himself between her and the large vampire.

“Rumor has it…something’s wrong with you, Spike,” the vampire went on, his false smile fading, his yellow eyes narrowing in menace. “Not quite yourself since you’ve been back…not that ‘yourself’ was ever anything but pathetic, anyway…Slayer’s little lapdog!”

For some reason…most likely an insane one, Dawn figured…Spike found that choice of words hilarious, releasing a high, manic giggle, shaking his head as he echoed, “Slayer’s lapdog…got a new one, she did, didn’t she, since way back then? Slayer’s lapdog…”

Behind him, Dawn let out a yelp as one of the other vampires lunged at her, and Spike’s laughter vanished in an instant as he spun around to stake the vamp that had grabbed her in a quick, fluid motion, before the creature had even a moment to react or defend itself. He pushed Dawn backward, out of the circle of vampires, and she stumbled before falling to the ground on her side with a muffled cry.

When she looked up at him in surprise, Spike met her eyes for just an instant, just long enough to whisper a single word of instruction, before turning to face the remaining vampires behind them.

“*Run*.”

Dawn hesitated just a moment before rising to her feet, backing a couple of wary steps away from where Spike stood, the only thing between her and nearly a dozen hungry vampires who wanted to make her their next meal.

“Hey…food’s getting away,” one of them pointed out to his buddies in a warning tone, and the answering snarls of the vampires as they started toward her chilled Dawn’s blood.

Her trembling legs carried her more quickly backward, stumbling slightly with a whimper of fear, as one of the vamps broke pace with the others and started toward her. Almost effortlessly Spike blocked his advance, a quick motion of his strong hands twisting the vampire’s head completely off and scattering his dust in the air.

The largest of the vampires, the one that seemed to be the leader, growled in frustration. “What’s the matter with you, man?” he demanded, shaking his head in disgust. “You used to have quite a rep. Everybody knew not to mess with William the Bloody…and now here you are, protecting a human…and a choice little piece at that, too. I’ve heard the stories; the things *you* used to do to tempting little morsels like her…so what’s with the do-gooder act? It’s not like the Slayer’s even around to see it!”

His words seemed to strike a nerve with Spike, and Dawn watched with dismay as the blond vampire shuddered, shaking his head in denial as he was reminded of his own history. His shoulders began to shake, and he seemed to visibly fold in on himself as the other vampire went on.

“No,” he muttered under his breath, still shaking his head. “No…wouldn’t…not anymore. Don’t do that anymore…good now…”

The other vampire laughed, sensing weakness and stalking forward even as Spike retreated, his head bowed, his eyes averted uncomfortably.

“Yeah,” the vamp sneered. “Sure you don’t…’cause you can’t. Can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, isn’t that it? If you could you’d tear into that sweet flesh yourself, wouldn’t you?”

“No!” Spike’s voice was anguished now, pleading. “No…wouldn’t ever…promised to…wouldn’t hurt her…”

One of the vampire’s friends took advantage of Spike’s distraction to slip toward Dawn, who stood transfixed by her former friend’s strange behavior, the all-important notion of escape momentarily forgotten. She noticed just as the vampire reached her…an instant too late…and screamed as a strong arm clamped around her shoulders from behind, and another gripped her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her throat.

In an instant Spike was there, tearing the vampire off her and lighting into it, his own confusion and pain forgotten as he set about the task of fulfilling a promise made years ago, yet never abandoned by him. Fists and fangs flew in the darkness, as he made short work of her would-be attacker, before turning on her to command harshly,

“*Go*!”

There was time to say nothing else before the remaining vampires were upon him, apparently having tired of allowing him to simply pick off one by one those who were too impatient to wait. All at once they attacked him, raining blows and kicks and bites upon him, and Dawn watched in horror as Spike all but disappeared under a pile of writhing, kicking, hissing vampires.

Once or twice one of them attempted to break from the scuffle and head in her direction, but somehow despite the odds against him, Spike managed to draw their attention back to him, still doing his best in spite of his own desperate situation to protect *her*. A weakened blow, a desperate gripping hand yanking one of them back in toward him…any small gesture he could manage, just to divert them away from her, regardless of his own safety.

It was clear that he would not last long at this rate.

Dawn stood there staring in horror, unable to move, to do anything to stop what was happening to Spike, until it occurred to her that at any moment, one of the vampires might come at her again. Spike’s strength was swiftly fading, as he began to succumb to the vicious attack of his numerous opponents; in fact, Dawn was surprised that none of them had tried to come after her again yet.

They all seemed completely focused on the savage punishment they were unleashing on Spike…the one they viewed as a traitor to their kind.

Some part of Dawn’s mind that was not shell-shocked with fear and confusion and horror shouted at her to *run*, while she still could, while they were all distracted. There was nothing she could do for Spike or herself as long as she was out here alone. The idea of leaving him alone to his fate was a terrible one, her previous anger and resentment forgotten under the impact of what was happening…but Dawn knew that there was only one person who could really help Spike now.

And she was not that person.

With a final anxious glance over her shoulder at her fallen friend, no longer even visibly struggling against the unceasing attack he was enduring, Dawn took off at a run across the damp grass of the cemetery.