Chapter 8 – Anything to Help


Sunnydale, 2000


Spike walked towards Sunnydale after he had left the old house, trying to push the memories of the prior twenty-four hours out of his head as he formulated answers to questions that Buffy and everyone else would undoubtedly ask him. A part of him knew that he would have to keep the information about Harmony being the reason for Dawn’s death a secret, but on a different note, he knew he should be honest with both the Slayer and Joyce because knowing his luck, he would be caught at some point or another for lying and would be staked.

Either way he looked at it, there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him to prepare for meeting an end akin to Harmony’s.

As he neared the Summers’ home, he saw several familiar cars parked outside, recognizing them as belonging to Giles and Xander. He collected himself as best he could and knocked on the door, frowning when Giles instantly opened it and walked outside, closing the door behind him. Giles motioned for Spike to follow him down the steps of the front porch before he turned to face him.

“What do you know?” Giles asked quietly. “Are there any specific details you can give me about the situation?”

“I know about as much as you do, Watcher,” Spike partially lied. “I found Dawn in my crypt, drained and in bad shape. That’s really all I know for certain.”

“I thought you mentioned before that you might’ve had a lead on who was responsible for this,” Giles replied, crossing his arms.

“It turned out to be a false alarm,” Spike said, continuing to lie, looking down at his feet. “I don’t know who did it.”

“We need to know more,” Giles said, taking off his glasses and beginning to wipe the lenses off on a handkerchief he had pulled out of his pocket. “Anything would help at this point.”

“How are they doing?” Spike asked, looking at the house.

“How do you think they’re doing?” Giles asked in a low tone.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“It’s probably best if you leave,” Giles answered, beginning to head towards the front door.

“What did you tell them?” Spike asked, watching the older man’s angry expression falter for a moment before he sighed.

“That Dawn’s body was found in the cemetery,” Giles said. “They don’t know that she was in your crypt, that you called me, or anything else involving you.”

“Why not?” Spike curiously studied the Watcher’s face, surprised.

“Because I know you didn’t do it,” Giles answered. “You cared about Dawn, just like the rest of us. Consider it a thank-you for calling me and letting me take care of everything.” He put his hand on the doorknob and kept his back to Spike. “But that’s not to say they’ll never find out – we both know Buffy will figure it out sooner or later.”

“I know,” Spike replied. “She’s not a dumb girl.”

“No, she isn’t,” Giles agreed before he walked into the house, leaving Spike alone.

Spike turned and walked away, never noticing Buffy watching him from between the curtains of the living room’s main window.

~~~~~~~~~~

Spike kept to himself over the next couple of days, trying to give Buffy space while drowning his sorrows with a few bottles of alcohol, doing everything in his power to block out images of Dawn and dusting Harmony.

When the day came for Dawn’s funeral, he waited for the sun to set before leaving his crypt and following the scent of freshly-dug soil to locate Dawn’s grave. When he found it, he kneeled down beside it and put a small bouquet of flowers he had picked on top of it.

“I’m sorry, Dawn,” he whispered, running his hand slowly over the dirt. “I should’ve been watching you, protecting you. If I had done something differently, you’d still be here.” He paused for a long moment. “I should be the one who is gone, not you.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” a voice said from behind him.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Buffy, who was slowly walking towards him. He noticed the blank expression on her face and frowned, not used to seeing her look so lost.

“Buffy-”

“I should’ve stayed with her at the Bronze,” she said as she sat next to him, focusing on the tombstone. “She shouldn’t have been there in the first place, even. Tara feels guilty for having her birthday party there, you know. I’ve told her it wasn’t her fault, but she won’t stop apologizing. No one will.”

“We all cared about her,” Spike murmured, watching tears form in Buffy’s eyes. “We all feel guilty.”

“It’s no one’s fault but my own,” she replied. “She shouldn’t have been there. She shouldn’t have been alone. She shouldn’t have been taken away from me. If I had made a different choice-”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” he said. “Don’t blame yourself for this.”

“I always will,” she said, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looked at the flowers. “Those from you?”

“She once told me that she really liked flowers,” he answered. “I owed it to her to bring some.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “It means a lot that you would do something like that.”

“Well, I was fond of her,” he said. “She was a nice girl, a good friend.”

“And she absolutely adored you,” she said, looking at him.

“What can I say? Women flock to me,” he replied in a light tone, smiling when she giggled quietly. “Is there anything I can do?”

“You can tell me why you were talking to Giles the other night in front of my house,” she said. “What were you two talking about?”

“I came by to see if you had found anything out, saw Giles’ and Xander’s cars, and knew something was up,” he lied, looking away. “The Watcher told me about everything and thought it was best for me not to be around – you could’ve staked me just for the fun of it.”

“I wouldn’t have done something like that,” she replied. “It’s not like this was your fault.”

“I know. It’s just that-”

“It’s alright,” she interrupted before looking at the grave again. “Thank you for being here.”

“You’re welcome, Buffy,” he said, and before he realized what he was doing, he put his hand on top of Buffy’s and squeezed it.

He didn’t expect her to squeeze his in return.

~~~~~~~~~~

The following night, Spike went to see the Summers women and was surprised to find Giles’ car there again. He knocked on the door, and for the second time in two days, Giles answered.

“May I come in?” Spike asked, sounding as polite as possible when he saw Joyce walking down the stairs, giving him a warm smile despite the obvious sadness on her face.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Giles said.

“Actually, I think it might help,” Joyce replied, motioning for Spike to come in. “I’m afraid Buffy has been keeping herself locked in her room all day. She hasn’t answered any phone calls and wouldn’t speak to either Willow or Xander when they came by to visit this afternoon. She won’t talk to me, either.”

“What makes you think she’ll speak to me?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow.

“She won’t talk to anyone she likes, so maybe she’ll talk to someone she loathes,” Giles muttered.

“Watch it, mate,” Spike said, glaring at the other man.

“It wouldn’t hurt to give it a try,” Joyce said, nudging Spike towards the stairs. “Please?”

He heard the pleading tone in her voice and nodded, going up the stairs and ignoring Giles’ requests for him to leave before he could do or say something wrong.

“Maybe some trouble will get her to talk to someone,” Joyce said, watching as the vampire reached the top landing before heading to Buffy’s room.

“I hope you realize this could end badly,” Giles whispered to Joyce.

“It can’t get much worse than it already is,” she replied before walking in the direction of the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Spike came to stand in front of Buffy’s door and focused on it for a long while, mentally preparing himself for a conversation with her before he knocked.