Disclaimer: All the vampires are Joss Whedon's, not mine.

Thanks to my reviewers, I have been inspired! Thanks to being between major assignments, I have time to write! The stars have aligned. 

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Chapter 18
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Spike woke an hour or so later, having succumbed to exhaustion after the long evening. He lifted his head to look at his bed partner, but Buffy hadn’t moved an inch. He got up and went to get some more blood. The clock on the microwave said 3 a.m., and he rubbed his hands over his tired face as he waited for the microwave to finish. He made his way back upstairs and tried once more to get some blood into Buffy. This time she definitely swallowed by herself, and Spike was able to get the whole mug into her, but she was still comatose otherwise. He put the mug on the bedside table and looked at her, stroking her hair and thinking. Slayer blood would probably do it, he thought. The pig blood will help, but it’s going to take forever. He pondered what would happen if he tried it. If the demon overpowered him, if he couldn’t make it stop, the demon could drain Buffy’s body and leave them with two corpses and nowhere for either of them to return to. Not a pretty picture, that, he concluded. Without knowing her mental state, and with no conscious being controlling the demon, he really wasn’t sure what would happen. And if the chip fired again for whatever reason? He didn’t know if his body could actually dust from the brain damage, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
 
He put both his hands in his hair and pulled at it in frustration. He wanted to smash something, kill something, or hell, at least be able to drink a large quantity of something without instantly getting shitfaced. Helpless was not something Spike did well, and it chafed him to no end. Clamping down on his destructive urges, he lay back down next to Buffy and resumed his vigil.
 
When he next woke it was nearly five o’clock, and he went down to get yet more blood for the Slayer. Again he managed to get it in her, but otherwise there was no change. She was perhaps slightly less pale, that was about it. After sitting with her a while longer, talking to her in a low voice about any nonsense that came to his head, he had to take a break. He took the dirty mugs back to the kitchen and put them in the sink. The sky was starting to get a bit lighter outside, and he went out on the back porch to watch. He sat there, in what he thought of as Buffy’s spot, and watched the world come to life around him.
 
He had heard some vampires, usually when they were deep in their cups, wax rhapsodic about their last sunrise and how amazing it had been. Personally, he always thought it was utter bollocks. He couldn’t vividly remember the last sunrise he had seen. In London in 1880 there was so much smoke and fog and whatnot that you were lucky to see the sun at noon some days, and he had never been a particularly early riser. Besides, it wasn’t like you were taking notes every day, on the off chance you might get turned into a vampire that night. But as he sat in the warming California air he found that he couldn’t look away from the sky. Black faded to a deep, deep blue, and then to a pale bluish gray. Low bands of purple and pink framed by scattered clouds appeared and grew, followed by a warm orange glow. All else was forgotten as he sat there, transfixed as the sun grew and expanded to gild the trees. His lips parted in a nameless anticipation as the sun finally got free of the tree line and bathed the world in a honey colored glow. It was hands down the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he felt both humbled by and grateful for the gift.
 
“Spike?” He turned to see Dawn at the kitchen door with a worried look on her face.
 
Spike took one last long look at the sunrise got to his feet. “Morning, Nibblet,” he said in a tired voice.
 
“I looked in her room and couldn’t find you, and I got worried,” Dawn said, with a slightly accusatory tone.
 
“Didn’t mean to worry you,” Spike said. “Just needed a little break. Ended up watching the sunrise.”
 
“How’s Buffy?” Dawn asked.
 
“’Bout the same,” Spike answered, following her inside. “I got more blood into her a few times last night, but she hasn’t shown any signs of coming to.”
 
“What are we going to do?” Dawn wondered. She was nearly on the verge of tears.
 
Spike took her in his arms and comforted her. “Don’t take on, Bit. We’re going to call Red, and we’re going to get this whole body swap reversed, and you’ll have your sister back.”
 
“But what about you?” Dawn asked. “We need you. Buffy and I both need you.”
 
“I think… I think my body will heal, eventually,” he said, sounding more certain than he felt. “When my back was broken, it took months. A brain injury would probably take even longer. But I won’t leave your sister trapped in there while the body heals. I’ll be alright.” Dawn remained unconvinced, and buried her face back in Spike’s shirt, weeping quietly for long minutes.
 
After a while Dawn collected herself and sniffled. “Sorry.”
 
“It’s okay, Bit,” Spike reassured her. Dawn went back upstairs to get dressed, while Spike made himself some coffee. He didn’t have any appetite for anything else, but he was desperate for the caffeine hit. After he finished his second cup he made his way back upstairs with more sustenance for Buffy, bumping into Tara on the landing.
 
“Any change?” she asked anxiously.
 
“No,” Spike replied. “You’d better call Willow, see if she’ll help us out.”
 
“I… I’ll do that,” Tara said. She made her way downstairs, hoping and praying that Willow could and would help them.
 
Spike returned to Buffy’s bedside, hoping for some sign of, well, not life, but at least unlife. He was dismayed to find her face still vamped, and her body still unmoving. He fed her the blood, and was rewarded with a small twitch of her eyelids, but that was all. Whatever was happening in her brain was taking a fuck of a long time to get to the surface. He laid her back down, kissed her bumpy forehead, and went back to the kitchen once more.
 
“I know what she said,” Tara was saying to Willow on the phone. “But I am telling you we need your help!”
 
“What’s the problem?” Spike asked. Tara looked at him and threw up her hands. He took the phone from her and said, “Red. Do you understand our problem?”
 
“Yes, I understand,” came Willow’s voice, sounding hurt. “I understand that Buffy said she didn’t want me around anymore, and now you all want my help. How does that work?”
 
Spike fought the desire to reach through the phone and strangle her. “Willow, I was there. Buffy did not say she didn’t want you around ever again. She said she wanted some space and privacy to work out her issues. You say you’re her friend. Well right now, your friend is trapped in a badly damaged body, and you can save her. So put your money where your goddamn mouth is for once and help her.”
 
At the other end of the line, Willow hesitated, then said, “I don’t want to make things worse again.”
 
“I’m all on board with that,” Spike said. “But we need your technical skills. Are you gonna help us, or not?”
 
Taking a deep, audible breath, Willow replied, “Okay. I’ll… I’ll be right over.”
 
Spike hung up the phone with a bit more force than necessary. “Un fucking believable. Don’t need her, she’s in your hair twenty four hours a day. When you actually need her, she decides to back off. Bloody bint’s going to send me over the edge.”
 
“Take it easy, Spike,” Dawn urged.
 
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered. He kicked an innocent kitchen stool in frustration and stalked back upstairs to Buffy’s room.
 
*********************
 
“Ok, I think I understand,” Willow said. She had arrived about fifteen minutes after the end of their phone call. After some initial awkwardness, she had settled in at the dining table with the schematics and the gun, and soon was immersed in the technical details. She was now carefully undoing a series of tiny screws and carefully disconnecting wires to be able to switch the crystals without damaging anything. Tara and Dawn had watched fretfully, while Spike remained upstairs with Buffy. “It shouldn’t take that much longer to reassemble,” Willow said. “It’s a pretty neat design. Well, for an evil brain erasing ray that is.”
 
“I’ll go let Spike know we’re almost there,” Dawn offered. She went upstairs and poked her head in the darkened bedroom. “Spike?”
 
“Come in, Nibblet,” he said. “She’s still out.” He was sitting next to Buffy, holding her hand and stroking her face, willing her to show some sign of awareness.
 
“Willow says she’s almost done with the gun,” Dawn told him.
 
Spike nodded. He stood up and followed Dawn back to the dining room, where Willow was putting the last few screws in the housing. “How does it look?” he asked.
 
“Well, it should reverse whatever effect it had,” Willow said.
 
“Then we should get upstairs with that thing and get us switched back as soon as possible,” Spike said.
 
Tara interjected, “Spike, are you sure? If this works, you’re the one who knows the most around here about vampires, and you might not be able to…”
 
“I know,” Spike said quietly. “Won’t leave her like that. I’m expendable. She’s not.” He turned and walked up the stairs, clearly expecting the others to follow.
 
Willow stared after him, open mouthed. Just like that, he was planning to risk his own existence for Buffy. Without a moment’s hesitation or a backward glance, he was going to go up there and let her turn this gun on him, knowing that the best he could hope for was to be trapped in a possibly brain damaged undead corpse. My God, he really does love her, she realized. He could have taken off, killed anyone who had ever wronged him, anything. Instead he’s putting everything on the line for her. Willow wondered if she could do something like that for Tara. Could she set aside her power, with no hope of getting it back, to save the woman she loved? And what did it say about her assumptions if a supposedly evil creature could, unreservedly, while she hesitated?
 
“Willow? It’s time,” Tara said gently, breaking through Willow’s moment of revelation. Willow nodded wordlessly, picked up the gun, and with a deep breath mounted the stairs.
 
Dawn and Tara hovered near the door as Willow went in to where Spike sat once more at Buffy’s side. “How… how should we do this?” she wondered.
 
“Same way it all started,” Spike said. He rested his hand lightly on Buffy’s chest and looked once more at his own face, as he would never see it again. “Love you, Slayer,” he whispered. Then he bent down and kissed her. Willow hesitated for a moment, then set her jaw and pulled the trigger.
 
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Dark. Why was it so dark? Where is everyone? Spike? Buffy had blacked out from the enormous electrical shocks sent through her brain by the chip. Gradually she had become somewhat aware, but unable to move or speak. She had heard faint sounds around her, but they had no meaning. A sensation of movement had occurred, interspersed with periods of stillness. Then she was still, and remained so, but nothing made sense.
 
The demon screamed inside her when the scent of blood reached her nostrils, but she couldn’t figure out how to move, how to drink. Blood somehow got into her throat, and she swallowed, but she could control nothing of her body, and it terrified her. Spike. I’m in here. Please help me. I don’t know what happened. Please.
 
The scent of blood came and went, and time spun out meaninglessly. After a number of feedings she heard a low murmur that sounded somehow familiar, but the words still made no sense. Spike. Get me out of this. Please. She tried to find something to flex to make something happen, but she was floating in an abyss that she couldn’t fathom.
 
Then suddenly she felt a strange, yet somehow familiar sensation. An explosion surged through her, like with the chip but without the agony. She felt like she was being pulled somewhere like electricity through a wire. Sensation flooded back and she felt warm, and the scent of cigarettes filled her nostrils, and her lips were wet and moving on something. She gasped and opened her eyes to see the face of Spike below her, eyes closed, lips parted. “What? Where…?” she said, looking around in complete bewilderment.
 
“Buffy?” Dawn said cautiously. “Are … are you …?”
 
Buffy stood and turned, swaying slightly. “Dawn? Is it… oh God, I’m back!” Dawn ran over to throw herself happily into Buffy’s arms as she and Buffy both laughed and cried in relief. After a minute Buffy turned back to Spike. “Spike? Spike?” She shook him slightly, and getting no response turned back to the others. “What happened? What’s wrong with him?”
 
“Don’t you remember?” Tara asked. “You were taking down those three guys and the chip went off.”
 
Buffy’s eyes widened as the memory came back. “I blacked out. I hit one of them… and then I blacked out. It hurt so much. And then I couldn’t wake up. It was like I was trapped and I couldn’t control anything and couldn’t say anything.”
 
“Spike thought there might be, um, d… damage. From the chip, I mean,” Tara stuttered, not wanting to break this news to her. “He d… didn’t want you to be trapped in his body. S… so he asked us to switch you b… back.”
 
“No,” Buffy breathed. She turned to run her hands down his face. Tears came to her eyes as she realized the sacrifice he was willing to make. For me. No one has ever been willing to give so much for me. Turning to the others she said, “We have to help him.”
 
“He thought that it would get better eventually,” Dawn said uncertainly. “But he didn’t know how long it would take. I mean, he said his back took months to heal.”
 
Buffy turned back to Spike and took in the ridged brow and the slightly protruding fangs. Spike always has control of the demon. If he’s still fanged out after this many hours, something must be seriously wrong. “Then I guess I’ll just have to look after him until he heals,” Buffy said quietly.
 
“Is keeping him here really a good idea?” Willow said doubtfully. “Can you handle him if he gets loose and he’s not in control?”
 
“I don’t care if it’s a good idea,” Buffy said firmly, looking Willow straight in the eye. “I love him. When Tara got attacked by Glory you cared for her. This is no different.”
 
“But I wasn’t worried about Tara eating someone!” Willow protested. Wait, she loves him? Willow couldn’t get her brain around what she had just heard.
 
“Willow, I get it, you’re concerned,” Buffy interjected. “And I appreciate whatever you did to help me get back in my body. However, like I said before, this is my life, and I need to make my own decisions. I won’t let anyone else get hurt. But Spike stays with me until he’s healed. Period. Full stop.”
 
Willow took in what Buffy said. She loves him. And he loves her. Enough to sacrifice everything for her. The image of Spike, resolutely walking up the stairs to do whatever it took to save the woman he loved was looping through her brain endlessly. She realized that nothing she could say was going to change Buffy’s mind. “I understand,” she said finally. “I… I still worry about the consequences. But it’s your call.”
 
“Thank you,” Buffy said. She stepped a bit closer to Willow, lowering her voice slightly. “I just have to add though, if you try anything behind my back, any magic, any plots or schemes or interventions, I will cut you out of my life so far that it will be like we never met. Are we clear?” Willow swallowed and nodded. “Good. Now I’m going to take care of my man, and I need a little space to do it, alright?”
 
“Okay,” said Willow in a slightly shaky voice.
 
Tara put her hand tentatively on Willow’s shoulder. “I b… boxed up your things. Can I help you bring them out to your car?”
 
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that,” Willow said, offering Tara a faint smile. The two witches went downstairs, leaving the sisters alone with the unconscious vampire.
 
“How… how did he get the blood into me?” Buffy asked Dawn as she sat back down next to Spike.
 
“He used a spoon and sort of ladled it into your throat, when it was your throat,” Dawn answered.
 
“Can you get me a mug of blood and a spoon then? Buffy asked.
 
“Sure,” Dawn replied. She left to get the supplies while Buffy sat with moist eyes watching over her vampire. In a few moments Dawn returned and said, “There’s only a couple of pints of this stuff left. We’re going to need to get more soon.”
 
“Thanks, Dawnie,” Buffy said. She took the mug and the spoon and set it down. After propping Spike up on some pillows she proceeded to feed him as best she could. She fought back despair as she tried to get the blood into him, watching intently for any sign that he was coming back to her. Don’t leave me, Spike. I still need you so much. When the blood ran out she sat back, studying Spike’s demonic features, but seeing no change.
 
“Do you think he can hear us?” Dawn asked behind her.
 
“When I was in there I could hear sounds, but they didn’t make a lot of sense,“ Buffy replied. “It was like I was aware of my own thoughts, but I couldn’t do anything about it.”
 
“Were you afraid?” Dawn asked.
 
“Yeah,” Buffy whispered. She shivered a bit at the memory of feeling trapped and helpless, and wondered again at the fact that Spike would willingly go into that darkness for her.
 
Tara and Willow came to the door at that moment. “Did you see this?” Tara asked, holding the daily newspaper. Buffy came over and read about the apprehension of the three men who had robbed the Electronics Depot. Her mouth dropped open as she learned how an anonymous tip had led the police to their apartment where the perpetrators had been found, tied up and with the stolen equipment all around them.
 
“Did Spike do all this?” Buffy asked in wonder.
 
“He must have,” Tara said. “Things were so crazy last night, he never talked about what happened to the guys you went after.”
 
“We followed them to that pawn shop,” Buffy said, still reading. “I had to get them to stop trying to kill Spike. After the chip went off, I blacked out completely.”
 
“It says that one of them confessed to the other crimes as well,” Willow added. “I guess that means we don’t have to worry about them erasing anyone else.”
 
Buffy scanned the paper once more, then looked up. “Willow, if you understand how to use that thing, can you and Tara go to the hospital and fix the victims of the previous robberies?”
 
“Sure,” said Willow. She was faintly hopeful that this assignment was the beginning of a rebuilding of their friendship.
 
“When you’re done, we need to return that diamond, and figure out what to do with that gem,” Buffy added. “I think keeping that thing around is a bad plan.”
 
“I agree,” said Tara. “Is there… is there anything else you need from us?”
 
“No, not right now,” Buffy said, already turning back toward Spike. “If I do, I’ll let you know, okay?”
 
“Okay,” Willow said. She tried to hide her disappointment at being dismissed already.
 
Tara noticed Willow’s mood shifting and stepped in. “Do we want to take your car or mine to the hospital?”
 
Willow brightened at the thought of getting to spend some time with Tara and said, “I guess your car is less full of boxes right now.”
 
“Call me if you need me,” Tara said, giving Buffy, then Dawn a quick hug before following Willow downstairs.
 
“It’s going to be quiet around here for a while, I guess,” Dawn said awkwardly.
 
“I kinda need a little quiet,” Buffy said. “It’s been a bit of a rough week.” She sat down next to Spike once more, stroking his hair gently. “Can I just… have a little time alone? I’ll be down in a little while,” Buffy said.
 
Dawn understood her sister for once and said, “I’ll go work on my homework for tomorrow.” She closed the door behind her, leaving Buffy keeping watch over her vampire.
 
He could have killed them, Buffy thought, tracing the ridges in his forehead tenderly. He could have tortured them or anything else. He could have taken off for parts unknown. But he didn’t. She wondered anew at this vampire, whose demon she now knew all too well. Despite that demon and the lack of a soul, he had managed to do the right thing. “I’m not going to give up on you William,” she said aloud. “I know you’re in there, and I’m going to find a way to get you better. No matter how long it takes.” Resolved, she kissed him tenderly, and went to get him more blood.
 
**************************
 
After four days, Buffy was starting to lose heart. Dawn had been going to school, on time and with little fuss, while Buffy stayed home and fed Spike, talked to him, carried his unresisting body to the bathtub and bathed him, all the while hoping that today would be the day he woke up. In the evenings Buffy patrolled as quickly as possible in order to get back home to see if there was any change. She ate sporadically, usually when her growling stomach reminded her that it had been a while. She did her best to help Dawn with her homework and keep her company. However she found herself sinking slowly back into depression, not wanting to deal with the mounting bills, forcing herself to patrol and to interact with Dawn when all she wanted to do was curl up next to Spike.
 
The doorbell rang at around noon on the fourth day, and Buffy tore herself away from Spike’s bedside to answer the door. “Xander,” she said in surprise. “What can I do for you?” She hadn’t seen or spoken to Xander since he had stabbed her, and she was less than enthusiastic about dealing with him at the moment.
 
“Hey, Buff,” he said. His hands were in his pockets and he looked uncertain. “I just… wanted to see how you were. Willow said you were back in your body and all.”
 
“Yeah, I’m back,” she said. She found she had nothing else in particular to say to him.
 
“How’s Spike?” Xander asked.
 
“Still in a coma, or whatever you call it in his case,” Buffy said. Then she added, “And if you’re here to tell me how I shouldn’t be taking care of a vampire in my house or any of that crap, you can just go straight to hell. He sacrificed everything for me, and I’m not going to let him down.”
 
“I guess I get that,” Xander said. “I still get major wiggins about another vampire boyfriend.” He held up his hand quickly as Buffy opened her mouth to let him have it. “But I get it that it’s your call. And I just wanted to apologize for staking you the other day. That was… a bad thing,” he finished lamely.
 
Buffy crossed her arms. “I appreciate the apology, Xander. I know you’re trying to make things right. But I still have some issues to work out. I need you to leave.”
 
Xander nodded. “I understand. But Buffy?”
 
“What?”
 
“Don’t lock yourself away for Spike’s sake. Even Spike wouldn’t want you sacrificing your life for his,” Xander said.
 
Of course… Buffy’s mouth dropped open as a thought occurred to her. Shaking herself she said, “Thanks Xander. I gotta do something. Talk to you later.” With that she closed the door in his astonished face and rushed back up the stairs. She rummaged frantically in her drawers until she came up with a sharp, wicked looking knife. Slayer blood, she thought as she found the knife and moved over to the bed. It’s a zillion times stronger than animal blood, or regular human. That’s what he needs. She got onto the bed next to Spike, maneuvering so that she was behind him, his body resting on her chest, his head cradled in the crook of her neck. Reaching around him with the knife she drew it deliberately across her forearm. She held him close and brought her dripping arm to his lips. “Drink, Spike. I need you back, you stupid vampire. Drink.”
 
Spike had been drifting in the blackness for an eternity. The electric sensation of the amnesia ray had given way to numbness. He went from having a heartbeat, surrounded by sounds and smells and sights, to being trapped, unable to move. He sometimes felt sensation, warmth, and gentle touches, but he couldn’t quite figure out what they meant or how to respond. The demon howled inside him, and although he sometimes smelled blood, the demon seemed unappeased. So hungry. Buffy? Are you out there? He knew somehow that she was, but it was so hard to decide what the muddled sounds meant. He drifted in and out, with each period of relative awareness lasting a little longer. I’m in here. Please, I’m still in here, he thought in his lucid moments.
 
Suddenly the demon surged into overdrive. Slayer. The taste of that sweet, powerful blood trickled over his tongue, and he somehow found the ability to jam his fangs through the flesh pressed against his lips. He faintly heard Buffy’s hiss of pain as he drank and drank. Gods, yes. Fucking ambrosia. It was like being a fledge again, with the hunger driving him to swallow, and swallow, sating that deep seated need.
 
Buffy found the initial pain giving way to that strange, erotic sensation she had experienced when Angel had drank from her. Why does this feel good? Makes no sense, but oh God… She threw her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the heat rush to her sex, and she felt she could come from this sensation alone. But after a few minutes she realized that she was getting weaker. “Spike… Spike you need to stop…”she pleaded.
 
Buffy? Her words penetrated his brain clearly for the first time since he had reoccupied his body. He struggled inwardly to gain control over the demon. Back off already! he screamed silently in his mind. Finally, with a herculean effort, he forced his human face to the fore, and the fangs retracted out of Buffy’s arm.
 
Gasping, Buffy scrabbled for the end of the sheet and wrapped it around her arm, twisting it tight to staunch the bleeding. Clutching her arm she sat up next to Spike, feeling slightly dizzy, and looked down into his face. His ridges and fangs had relaxed into his own chiseled cheekbones and smooth skin. “Spike?” she said hesitatingly, running the fingers of her good hand down the side of his face. “Can you hear me?”
 
As she watched, hoping against hope, the ice blue eyes fluttered open and looked straight into hers. She wept tears of joy as he gazed at her with complete recognition. His lips moved faintly, but no sound came out. But she could tell what he was trying to say: Buffy.
 
“I’m here, Spike,” she said, tears rolling down her face as a smile broke over it like the dawn. “I’m here, and you’re going to be okay.” And Spike heard her, and believed every word. 

TBC