A/N: The song in this chapter is Lost in the Darkness from "Jekyll and Hyde." I have no explanation for the video that goes along with this clip... just listen, lol.

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Chapter 8: Always Be There

Spike watched Buffy’s chest rise and fall, lifting the sheet that covered the two of them in a slow steady rhythm. She was exhausted. For that matter, so was he – he’d fucked her over every square inch of his crypt, or so it seemed, and once they’d made it to the bed, they could barely move. He’d no sooner slipped a finger inside her, careful of the swollen and bruised flesh, before her breathing became shallow and even, her eyes closed, her expression sated and peaceful.

With a contented sigh, he kissed her brow and settled in beside her, cocooning her with his body. But it was impossible to sleep when all he wanted to do was look at her, drink her in, the goddess that had somehow found her way to his bed.

Spike had expected to be dust for sure, after biting her in the throes of passion. But Buffy had been more interested in letting him stake her, in a manner of speaking. The rest of the night, whenever he had the chance, he would run his tongue over the mark he’d left, causing her to moan every time. Once, when he had her on the brink of climax, she had tangled her fingers in his hair and pressed his face into her neck, as though encouraging him to do it again.

He hadn’t.

Spike wasn’t about to push his luck. He was quite content to have tasted her once. Especially since Buffy was letting him touch her and kiss her, opening herself up for him, letting him inside her. Letting him make love to her – that was more than he’d ever dreamt of.

Suddenly, Buffy began to thrash, kicking him under the covers as she clawed at the sheet with her hands. She let out a moan, unlike all the others that evening, laden with fear and panicked desperation.

“No,” she gasped, shoving him away and pushing the covers off as if she were trying to escape from something. It occurred to him that she was dreaming about being dragged out of heaven and waking up in her coffin, scratching and crawling her way to freedom. Her living nightmare that had become reality.

“Shhh,” he soothed, pulling her struggling form back against him as he wrapped her up in his arms, pressing a trail of soft kisses along her bare shoulder until she quieted again.

“My poor Buffy,” Spike murmured against her skin, running one hand up and down her arm in a soft caress. He wanted more than anything to take her pain away, but he couldn’t help the hurt that seeped in at the notion that their coupling was simply a product of her suffering. This isn’t real, but I just want to feel, she’d sung to him. Was he just a release? Just a means to end the numbness she’d felt since her return? If that were all he was to her… well, he would accept it, because he loved her more than anything. He would be what she needed, regardless of the cost, no matter how much it killed him inside. But he longed to be so much more.

“Lost in the darkness
Silence surrounds you
Once there was morning
Now endless night

“If I could reach you
I'd guide you and teach you
To walk from the darkness
Back into the light”

He was a fool, a damn fool. He could never be the one to show her the light, and being with him would only pull her further into the darkness. Spike cursed his vampiric existence as he never had before, frustrated that his demon couldn’t give him the right answers. Buffy was always the one with the answers; she’d been his conscience for over a year, even when she was gone. Now, she could barely guide herself, and both of them were floundering.

“I need you, Buffy,” he whispered. “Do whatever I can for you, pet, but I need you to be who you are.

“Deep in your silence
Please try to hear me
I'll keep you near me
Till night passes by”

He knew she would leave him as soon as she woke, just as she had last time. It nearly killed him, but he couldn’t help loving her. He was hers, completely, and no amount of hurt could drive him away.

“I will find the answer
I'll never desert you
I promise you this
Till the day that I die”

As the music faded out, he resumed his vigil over her sleeping form. Sometime later – minutes or hours, he couldn’t tell – Buffy began to stir. Rolling towards him, her eyes flickered open and she gave him a sleepy smile. “Is it morning?” she mumbled.

“Yeah, pet,” he said softly. “It is.”

She propped herself up on her elbows. “I should go. I left Dawn all night again.”

He leaned over her and pulled her into a gentle kiss, as his fingers ran through her hair and his tongue made love to her mouth. Buffy melted into it, falling back on the pillow and snaking her arms around him. Running her hands over his muscular back, she left hot trails on his skin, lighting him on fire with her touch. When she finally needed to breathe, he released her mouth, nuzzling her face as he kissed along her jaw and down to her neck.

“Buffy…”

“Don’t,” she whispered.

He pulled away to meet her eyes with surprise. “Buffy, I –”

“Shh. You’re going to say you love me.” She traced her hand down the side of his face. “Please, don’t.”

He rolled off and flopped onto the bed next to her, annoyed and disappointed. “Why not? Didn’t take issue with it last night.”

She sat up and twisted to face him, supporting herself on one elbow. “There were a lot of things I didn’t take issue with last night.” Her fingers came up to the bite. “I should stake you for this.”

“You won’t.” His tone was petulant.

“No,” she said gently. “I won’t. If you’d wanted to…” – kill me – “to hurt me, you could have. And – I need you, Spike. I need this. But – look at me.” She tried to pull his face in her direction. He fought her at first, before turning his head. “But I can’t say something I don’t mean.”

“You don’t have to say it, Buffy.”

She gazed at him, taking in the heartbreak and resignation etched on his face. She couldn’t explain to him how much it hurt her to not say it back to him, when he was so sweet and gentle and loving. But she couldn’t love him – she just couldn’t let herself fall that far.

They’d been right last night – it was dangerous. Buffy knew that from experience. As much as she needed what Spike could give her, she couldn’t let it be love. She gave him a sad, tentative smile and kissed his brow before slipping out of bed.

He watched her dress again with a sigh, but with less of the painful ache in his chest that had accompanied this scene the previous morning. At least she’d come back. She had come back and spent another night with him, and even the chip’s failure didn’t chase her away. Whatever she felt for him, she admitted she needed him. And that was all his cold, dead heart needed to feel like it was beating again.

“You gonna tell the others?” he asked, as she donned her clothes. “’Bout the chip, that is.”

“No!” Buffy stopped, half-naked, and stared at him, a horrified expression on her face. When he didn’t seem to get it right away, she hissed, “Because then I’d have to tell them how we found out!”

Spike raised his eyebrows at her and let out a low chuckle. “Could just tell ’em I hit you.”

“Oh. Yeah. I – I guess that would… yeah, then. Yeah, I’ll tell them. Tonight. Scooby meeting.” She turned to go, her gut roiling with guilt that she would have kept the knowledge from her friends in order to protect her sordid secret sex life.

“Hey, you talk to the good witch?” he called after her. “She gonna do the spell?”

“Yeah,” Buffy replied. “We’re doing it tonight, at the Magic Box.” She started to walk away again, heading for the ladder leading upstairs, but turned back. “Spike?” she said, her expression vulnerable. “You’ll be there?”

“Always be there, pet.”

Buffy hesitated then nodded before disappearing up the ladder.