Chapter 5: Family

“We should get her cleaned up,” Dawn stated after a long silence in the family room, taking in Buffy’s unkempt and dirty appearance.

Spike glanced down at the girl nestled in his lap. Her hair was a disarray of tangled tresses, some of which were sticking to her dirt covered face. Dried blood that had been ignored crusted around her knuckles and her dress was ripped and dirtied at the bottom.

Spike sighed, “Yeah, s’pose we should.”

When he didn’t make a move to head upstairs, Dawn spoke up again, “That would involve leaving the couch.”

“Oh, right.”

He gently stood up to follow after Dawn, upstairs and towards the bathroom. The younger girl went to the tub and twisted the faucet to turn the water on, then ran her hands underneath the stream to check the temperature.

Spike stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching her. Suddenly, the realization of what “cleaned up” involved occurred to him, making him uncomfortable about proceeding into the bathroom. He knew that at this moment, Buffy wouldn’t mind him helping clean off the dirt and grime, but later on down the road, it would be a good reason for her to stake him, and Spike really didn’t want to give her one of those.

He cleared his throat to give his thoughts a voice, “Uh, Bit. I think this is all you. Don’t fancy becomin’ a pile a’ dust any time soon.”

Dawn turned to him with a bewildered expression before he gestured to the girl in his arms and her eyes widened in realization. “Oh, yeah. Duh.”

He removed his arm from behind knees, causing her to put her feet on the floor in order to support herself. She looked up into his eyes, questioning. “Okay, pet, this is where I leave you.” When she seemed to tense, Spike reassured her, “’S alright, luv. I’ll be right outside. You can trust Dawn here. She’ll clean you up real nice.” He gave her a gentle smile. That seemed to be enough for her, and she turned and walked over to Dawn. The other girl gave Spike a smile of both thanks and reassurance, then closed the bathroom door.

Spike leaned his forehead against the closed door, sighing to relieve some of the stress from his body. So many emotions were going through his mind at that moment that he didn’t know whether to cry from happiness or curse from anger. Now that Buffy was back in his unlife, now that he had been so close to her, held her in his arms, he never wanted to be away from her. He wanted to keep her safe from the pain the world could bring.

Nevertheless, he knew things could change in the blink of an eye, especially concerning Buffy. For all he knew, when that bathroom door opened she would yell at him for touching her, then throw him out of the house (possibly literally) and disinvite him forever.

He knew that was a possibility, and he was prepared. Another part of him, however, knew that something had changed between him and Buffy. She trusted him above anyone else -- above the people she claimed to love. Their last time alone together, at her house before the battle, things had shifted. Nothing monumental by any stretch, but something had changed. She no longer saw him as a monster, but as a man. That knowledge gave him the hope that things would be better between them in the future.

His head fought with his heart, telling him that that notion wasn’t possible. Buffy would never see him as more than a neutered animal. He punched the door, flaring his nostrils. This day had been one of the most stressful, confusing days of his existence and he really needed a nicotine fix. Hoping that leaving Buffy for a few minutes wouldn’t cause any harm, Spike went downstairs and out to the porch to smoke a much-needed cigarette.

***

The cigarette he smoked had only temporarily relieved Spike’s tension; now it was back, coursing through his bones, constricting his muscles. Dawn found him pacing in the hallway when she stepped out of the bathroom. The vampire stopped abruptly when he heard the door close, then turned worried eyes to Dawn.

“She’s fine, Spike.” Dawn answered his unasked question.

His shoulders slumped as he visibly relaxed in the hallway. He ran a hand through his blonde curls, causing the hair to stick out in numerous directions.

“Sit down. Relax,” Dawn was continuing, “I’m just grabbing some clothes, and then she’ll be right out.”

Spike just nodded before following Dawn into Buffy’s room and taking a seat on the bed. After a beat, he laid down on his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. After grabbing a shirt, jeans and undergarments from various drawers in Buffy’s dresser, Dawn turned to Spike. She smiled softly and shook her head at the blonde’s actions before leaving the bedroom.

A few minutes later, Spike sat up quickly when a clean and dressed Buffy entered the room, followed by Dawn. He smiled at the Slayer when she came to sit next to him. The dried blood had been cleaned from her hands, revealing the ragged scrapes underneath. The area around the cuts was an irritated red color from rubbing off the blood.

“Get the First Aid kit, pigeon,” Spike commanded, without looking at Dawn.

She left the room without hesitation and reentered a minute later with the kit in hand. Spike took some gauze and antiseptic from the box. “’S gonna sting, pet. But it’ll feel better. Promise.” Buffy nodded in understanding.

Spike sprayed the antiseptic on her injured knuckles. She hissed and tried to pull her hand away, but Spike held it. “Ssh. ‘S okay, pet.”

He finished cleaning her hands before gently wrapping them. The injuries would heal in a day or two because of her Slayer strength, but he still wanted to protect her from infection.

When he was done wrapping them, he just held her small hands in his. It still had yet to sink in that she was there, alive, touching him. Spike absentmindedly caressed the top of her hand with his thumb as he took in her appearance, re-memorizing it. Her confused and scared, but still trusting, hazel eyes mesmerizing him. The scent of vanilla radiating from her skin was extremely strong after her shower, and her pink lips were slightly open as she breathed. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he was beyond thankful for her being back in his life.

He knew the months ahead would be difficult for her; he just hoped he could help her through them. If it was possible, he would trade places with her, but he knew, even on the Hellmouth, that wasn’t a likely option. However, he knew how she felt. He had risen from the dead 120 years before and he still remembered the feelings of waking up in a coffin, the confusion, the fear, the loneliness.

Of course, Drusilla and Angelus were there to help him adjust to life again. Without their protection and guidance, he knew he would not have survived. Their help was understood, a primal act passed on through generations of sire and childe, and wasn’t given freely, but they showed Spike his place in the world, gave him purpose, and made him part of a family, and deep-down he appreciated it.

Now his place was beside Buffy, (whether or not she wanted him there) and his purpose was to help her, whether it be on the battlefront or in her personal endeavors. In whatever way she needed him, he would be there, no questions asked, because she and Dawn were his family.

TBC.