Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine – just borrowing them.
 
I hope that none of my loyal readers will require therapy after the last chapter. Thanks for staying tuned.
 
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Chapter 24
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He was still cradling her cooling body when Giles found them.
 
Giles had gotten back to his apartment on schedule that evening, having rented a car in L.A. and driven with all speed to get to Sunnydale. He had tried to call when he got in and had gotten no answer. Worried, he had decided to drive over to check on Buffy and Dawn. He knew she was the Slayer, but she was very near her due date, and this new information was too important to wait. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the front door wide open as he parked in front of their house.
 
Apprehensive, he made his way to the door. Stepping cautiously inside he called, “Buffy? Dawn? Anyone home?” Then he noticed Dawn’s body, lying on the rug like a discarded doll. “Dawn!” he cried. As he knelt beside her, he flashed back instantly to the heartbreaking moment of finding Jenny Calendar, neck broken in the same way, laid out on his bed as a grotesque calling card. Shaking his head over and over in disbelief he backed away. “Buffy?” he called again, stumbling up the stairs. He reached Buffy and Spike’s bedroom and gasped. “Oh my God.”
 
Spike didn’t look up right away. He kept stroking Buffy’s hair, gazing into her unmoving, beautiful face. “Didn’t get here in time,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Never seem to get there in time.”
 
“What… Spike what happened?”
 
Spike raised his red rimmed eyes. “Some bastard ripped our baby out of her,” he growled.
 
Giles covered his mouth in horror, fighting a rising nausea. Then he noticed the fresh bite mark on her neck. “Was it vampires that did this?”
 
“I don’t know. She said something about dark ones, and that Emma was alive, and that they took her, but I don’t know,” Spike responded. Swallowing, he looked down at his wife’s face again. “I turned her, Giles.”
 
“What?” Giles exclaimed. He shook his head in disbelief for a long minute before blurting out, “How could you do that to her? You loved her! Yet you would inflict one of her greatest fears on her?” Giles looked ready to stake him on the spot.
 
“Giles, please listen,” Spike begged, once more turning his miserable eyes toward the Watcher. “She’s the only one who knows what happened. If she dies forever, I… I’ll die too. The claim… it hurts, Rupert. The emptiness in my mind where she used to be, it’s almost too much to bear. I can’t live without her. ” His desperate voice pleaded with Giles to understand.
 
“How do you know she’ll even help you?” Giles questioned. “She’ll be a fledgling, fighting the hunger. She may not be anything like herself! You know this!”
 
“She’s a Slayer. Ever wonder why more Slayers don’t get turned?” Spike said. “They keep their Slayer demon along with the vampire demon. They’re driven to feed, but the guilt is too much. They usually end up staking all the vampires around them before either staking themselves or greeting the sunrise. Trying to live with being a vampire drives them insane.” He looked down at her again. “I’ve got to try, though. See if she’ll help, if only to save an innocent.”
 
“And this is what you’ve cursed Buffy with?” Giles exploded. “Grief? Guilt? Madness?”
 
“For God’s sake Rupert, what would you have me do?” Spike cried, his voice breaking. “My whole bloody family is gone…” Spike broke down then, weeping and shuddering as he clutched Buffy tighter.
 
The finality of Spike’s last statement struck Giles like a club. They’re gone. Buffy and Dawn are gone. His brain slowly started to accept the full impact of this truth, and tears welled in his eyes. Giles realized reluctantly that Spike had done the only possible thing. They could not leave an innocent child in the hands of a potent enemy. If there was any chance that Buffy could help them, they were going to have to take it. “What will you do now?” he asked quietly when he was able to speak again.
 
Spike didn’t answer for a few minutes. Then he said in a flat, tired voice, “I think I’ll take her to my old crypt. Got some chains there. I can chain her up so she won’t hurt herself, or me, when she comes to. May be that the claim will help keep her grounded, I don’t know.” He looked up at Giles once more. “Will you help us?” he pleaded.
 
Giles nodded. “Tell me what to do.”
 
Spike tenderly wrapped his lover’s body in her robe. He collected himself and stood up, carrying Buffy in his arms. He carried her down to Giles’ car, and gently laid her in the back seat. Returning to the house, he stopped and knelt once more beside Dawn. Fresh tears ran down his face as he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, then reached up to close her blank, staring eyes. “So sorry, Nibblet,” he whispered. “I failed you again.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, silently bidding her to be at peace.
 
Giles watched as Spike got to his feet like an old man. The larger-than-life vampire seemed shrunken, bowed under the weight of his loss. Spike made his way upstairs and threw some of Buffy’s clothes in a duffle. Shouldering the bag, he looked around at the shattered remains of what they had shared. The white bassinet, ready and waiting for a child that might never get to use it. Buffy’s collection of crosses, which she would never be able to wear again. The beautiful journal she had given him for Christmas, in which he had poured out his heart to his unborn daughter, which now lay ruined in a pool of blood. Whoever did this will pay, he vowed. They’re gonna think Angelus was a fucking saint when I finish with them.
 
Giles was just finishing covering Dawn with a blanket off the couch as Spike came down the stairs. Giles’ face was drained of all color – he too moved like he had aged ten years in a half hour. The two men stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. Finally they turned to go in silence. Spike’s heart broke anew at the sight of Buffy’s bloodstained body in the back of Giles’ car. Giles took the bag from Spike and threw it in the trunk while Spike stood as if turned to stone. ”Come on, old man,” Giles said gently, putting a hand on the vampire’s shoulder. Spike climbed in the passenger side and closed the door, leaning his head against the window and closing his eyes.
 
Giles headed off toward Restfield cemetery. “Will she be needing… that is, will she need to feed, when she awakes?” Giles stammered after a few minutes.
 
“Yes,” said Spike in an empty voice. “If you could bring us some blood after you drop me off, it would help. Human if you can get it.”
 
“I’ll do what I can,” Giles responded.
 
After another long silence, Spike spoke up. “Will you tell the others, Rupert? And look after… Dawn?” He choked on her name.
 
“Of course.”
 
“You’ll need to keep them away from us for a few days. She’ll probably wake up in a day or so, but I’m not sure what she’ll be like. I just hope I can find out enough information to find the little one.” Spike’s voice was hollow and exhausted, all his usual confidence leached out completely.
 
“I meant to tell you both,” Giles remembered. “I was coming to the house tonight because I think I know who we are up against. They are called the Dwak Dlam, which translates as the Dark Ones. They have a prophesy that says they will become a superior power if they sacrifice a certain child on a certain day. That day is five days away.”
 
Spike opened his eyes. “Emma?” he asked, dreading the answer.
 
“It seems very likely,” Giles said grimly.
 
“Where would they take her?” Spike asked. He struggled to remain focused. Fighting the despair of the broken claim was taking all of his energy.
 
“I’m not certain yet. I need to know for certain if these are the right demons. Any information you can get from Buffy will be valuable.” They had arrived at the cemetery. Giles got out and handed Spike his duffel. He swung it over his shoulder and then gently got Buffy out of the back of the car.
 
“I’ll bring the blood as soon as I can,” Giles promised.
 
“Thank you, Rupert. Just leave it upstairs, ok?” He started moving toward the crypt.
 
“Spike,” Giles called. Spike turned, still cradling the limp body. “Take… take good care of her,” he choked out.
 
“Always,” Spike replied. Then he turned and carried his burden to the crypt.
 
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The crypt was only slightly different from how he had left it. It still looked like a single man lived there. Clem was more partial to leaving bags of chips around rather than empty whiskey bottles, but otherwise the disorder was about the same. Spike dropped down the stairs to the lower level, vamping out to see better in the darkness. The bed was unmade, but seemed clean enough, so he laid Buffy on it gently. He fumbled for his lighter and lit a few candles. The clutter of clothes, extra boxes to hold kittens, and more food wrappers made it clear that Clem had thoroughly made himself at home. Spike noticed that the bathroom had been enlarged and now included a toilet and a bathtub. He vaguely recalled Clem having mentioned it once.
 
Spike turned back toward the bed and its motionless occupant. He fought the waves of despair as he pondered his next move. After a few moments he nodded and returned to the bathroom, filling the tub with warm water. After pulling off his duster he carefully undressed the Slayer, instinctively trying to be gentle despite the fact that she was beyond pain. Settling her into the bath, he washed all the blood from her small form. He used the soap on her hair as well, since Clem didn’t seem to own shampoo. When the last of the gore had been washed clean, he laid her on some towels and carefully dried her off. He rummaged around until he found a first aid kit under Clem’s sink, and bandaged the raw, gaping wounds as best he could. Back in the bedroom he dressed her in soft sweats and a tank top, and arranged her neatly under a quilt. He hunted in some of the darker corners of the cave until he found his stash of chains and manacles, right where he had left them after that incident with Drusilla. With trembling hands he chained Buffy’s wrists and ankles firmly to the bed frame. Having made all possible preparations he lay down beside her, resting his hand on her stomach. Just yesterday it had been all round and warm, and he had felt the child kicking and heard its rapid little heartbeat. Now her belly was flat again, hard and cold, and as dead as he was. The place in his mind that had listened for her thoughts and felt her emotions was like a great empty well, dry and echoing. No longer able to fight the emptiness, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
 
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Giles drove back to Buffy’s house, numb with grief. He had intended to walk in, act as if he had just discovered the crime, and call the police. However, when he walked in and saw Dawn lying there again, he had no need to act. The wounds on his soul were ripped open fresh again and he dialed 911 with shaking hands. He gave the particulars to the operator in a broken voice and sat down on the porch to wait. The police found him with his head in his hands, and barely heard his whispered, “Inside.”
 
After a while an officer came to ask him questions. “Who lives here, sir?”
 
“Buffy and Dawn Summers, and Buffy’s husband, William Pratt,” he said softly. “Dawn’s… in the living room. I don’t… I don’t know what happened to them. I just got here from England tonight. William’s my… my cousin.” He figured that Spike’s fake identity would probably come out at some point. Best give a reason to be there.
 
“Can you describe exactly what you found when you arrived?” the officer asked, flipping open a notebook.
 
“The door was ajar. Dawn was… as you found her. The bedroom upstairs was covered in blood. No one else was here.”
 
“There’s a crib upstairs. Is there a baby in the house?”
 
Giles shook his head. “Buffy is eight, eight and a half months pregnant.” The officer asked for Giles’ name and address which he gave mechanically. The officer excused himself to go perform some other tasks, leaving Giles alone with his thoughts. Dawn is dead. Buffy’s a vampire. Emma is missing. I should have come back earlier. These thoughts looped over and over in his mind hopelessly, and he fought against breaking down entirely.
 
After a time the officer returned. “Mr. Giles, you’re free to go. We do ask that you remain in Sunnydale for the next few days. We may have some more questions for you.” Giles nodded and stood up. As he walked slowly down the steps a voice behind him said, “Sir? Excuse us please.” Giles turned and saw that the coroner’s men were carrying out the stretcher with Dawn’s body. His mouth went dry as he watched the small, covered form go by. He swayed a bit in the wake of the stretcher, and a police officer said, “Sir? Do you need someone to take you home?”
 
“No. I’ll… I’ll be alright,” he mumbled. He turned and made his way slowly to his car. He sat behind the wheel for a few minutes, staring blankly at nothing, until he finally shook himself and drove off. He had an errand to do for a vampire.
 
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When Giles arrived with a cooler of blood, the crypt was silent. Giles had filled the cooler with a few bottles of human blood that he had managed to get from Willy’s demon bar, along with some containers from the butcher. He set it down, but then found himself drawn to the faint glow from the lower level. He quietly crept down the stairs to behold Spike, stretched out asleep next to Buffy’s body, with tears drying on his face. I could just stake them both, he thought briefly. Maybe it would be better that way. The thought of Buffy coming back as something evil was unbearable.
 
But then his eyes focused on the slim, silver wedding band on Spike’s hand as it lay splayed out against his wife’s now deflated midsection. Spike loved Buffy. Giles had never wanted to credit that love, had never wanted to admit that a demon could love. But he loved her, and had loved and cherished Dawn as well. With a pang Giles remembered the pride glowing in Spike’s eyes as he and Buffy discussed plans for Emma. What will they do if they actually manage to find her? he wondered suddenly. How can two vampires raise a human child? The situation seemed so impossible. At the same time, there was an innocent child out there, a child who was the last of Buffy’s family. And as terrible as the idea was of his Slayer turned vampire, the thought of losing that last shred of Buffy’s humanity was even worse. Giles took a deep breath, and silently left the two dead lovers in peace.
 
TBC