Disclaimer: Every character that has been taken from BtVS or AtS belongs to Joss Whedon. Every other character belongs to me.

A/N: I'm really sorry for the delay but I had some problems with finding a new Beta. This chapter was beta'd by absolutely wonderful Fetching Mad Scientist. But for her, this chapter probably wouldn't have been posted.

Since I've been always learning the British kind of English, the spelling is also British.

***

Highway, 2004

They were driving for more than five hours already and Carrie felt numb. She wished they had stopped for a while, at a gas station, or maybe a motel but she knew it would only annoy the vampire behind the steering wheel. And it was definitely the least thing she needed now.

She was doing her best to play nice, yet it was more than hard. The car was filthy, the seats sticky and the windscreens covered in black paint. Spike wasn’t feeling like sharing the reasons, but she was Carrie and she knew. It efficiently prevented her from looking out of the windows and as a result she was bored.

They left New York many miles behind and now they were moving inland. Spike told her that they were heading to Denver. Well, she didn’t mind, she’d never been in Denver before, so it was fine by her. She had to flee from the town, however she hadn’t told him the reason He agreed to take her for a ride but he was going to leave her in some shelter there. As if.

Oh, of course he had to leave her he was dangerous and vampire-y and such. Naturally, he hadn’t told her about his undead state of existence. She just knew.

So it was fine. The direction was fine and she could really get used to the dim inside of the old Desoto, but the uncomfortable silence was definitely not wanted. Carrie knew Spike was all tense and nervous, not used to the responsibility for somebody beside himself. Truth be told, his dark mood had an equal effect on her and she was sick of feeling miserable.

And that was all he felt – misery. Loneliness. There wasn’t a moment he wouldn’t be worried about something. Since he took her to his apartment, a dirty little motel room he was renting, the amount of his concern was just growing bigger and bigger. It was horrifying how Carrie felt absolutely responsible for vampire’s state of mind. He had to go to the grocery store for something to eat for her and didn’t have enough money to buy cigarettes, too. He let her sleep on the cot and was all sore after spending the night on the floor. She pointed out he’d been swearing far too much and he darkened, as if she had taken away from him his only pleasure. Asked about her family she had to tell him she had no one left, which made him only more concerned. And the look on his face when he was telling her he would have to drop her in some shelter? Heartbreaking… It’s not that he was reproaching or anything. Carrie just knew, like she always had.

Ugh, lack of talk was bringing to mind wrong thoughts. Silence equaled bad. Right-o.

“Can I turn the radio on?” she asked.

Spike gave her a quick, insecure glance.

“What? Oh, uh, yeah, sure, if it’s working – ” he responded but before he finished she had been already fiddling with the tuning knob. He looked a little frightened by her resoluteness.

Jeez, freaking out, much? Carrie suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and focused on making the radio cooperate. After a few minutes, she managed to fix her favourite station and Enrique Iglesias’s voice finally broke the quiet.

Spike grimaced.

“We’re going to drive for the next five hours… Do I really have to listen to some nancy boy’s bloody screeching?” he asked with disgust.

“Enrique is so not screeching,” Carrie felt offended. “His voice is nice and his songs are…”

“Nice?” his eyes left the road for a second and the girl saw they were lighting up. She smiled a little in response. She started to like him like that – all relaxed, his thoughts finally clear… Like when he was fighting. Carrie was reminded of that night they met. In that alley she nearly went insane, not able to cope with her… gift. Her talent. That’s how her parents were calling this freaking curse, this unfair punishment for sins she hadn’t committed.

Mom and dad… Thinking about them still hurt. Would it ever stop?

“What’s wrong, love?” Spike asked, obviously worried by her sudden muteness. “Is it soddin’ Iglesias? If so, I’m gonna personally kick his bloody arse…”

She couldn’t help it and let out a small chuckle.

“No, it’s just – ” she struggled with herself for a while. On the one hand, it was – okay, what’s the right word? – completely daft, she was completely daft to stay in the same car with one of the most vicious vampires in the history. He was notorious William the Bloody – not that he told her she just knew – and she was helpless twelve years old girl, his potential snack. On the other… Crap, stop it, there was no one and no other hand, ‘cos she had already made her mind, hadn’t she? This guy… This undead guy was what – or rather who – she just needed the most.

“I thought about my parents,” she started quietly. “The song and… My dad was always like that… I mean… He hated Iglesias – ” her voice was now barely audible.

“Oh,” the vampire became awkward, he didn’t look at her this time. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Carrie felt the sting of tears. Damn it, she swore she woudn’t cry ever again - and yet – “You know what pisses me off the most?” she couldn’t fight it anymore, her cheeks were already wet. “That they could survive,” her voice was trembling. “T-they could run away and save themselves and instead of getting the hell out of the town they just – ”

Spike didn’t say a word. It didn’t matter, because she knew.

“It’s all my fault,” she whimpered. “If it wasn’t for me they would still be alive. If I weren’t what I am, those demons would never – ”

“Carrie – ” the vampire tried to say something to make her feel a little better and she really did, because his voice was soft and consoling and when his eyes left the road there was no judgment in them. “When something like that happens to any of us it’s natural we start to blame ourselves. Believe me I’ve – ” he hesitated but carried on after a while. “I’ve ruined many families – it’s not that I’m going to hurt you or any thing – but what I want to say is that it wasn’t their relatives’ fault that I – ”

She laughed. It wasn’t a good laugh. It was hysterical, mad and scary. He thought she lost her mind. She didn’t care. She just had to –

“You don’t understand,” she stuttered out, trying to calm down.”You don’t know – ”

“Bugger, I know enough,” Spike interrupted her, obviously loosing his temper. “Now pay bloody attention, ‘cos I won’t repeat” he threatened her and ordered to stay quiet. “It wasn’t your fault. You had nothin’ to do with this, trust, those soddin’ demons could attack any other people – ”

“They were mercenaries.”

Spike shut up in a second.

“They weren’t some random demons and we weren’t some random family who just happened to be in the wrong place in the wrong time. They were sent to kill us,” the way she said that – cold, calm and matter-of-factly – surprised even her.

“How do you know?” the vampire asked, still not convinced.

“It wasn’t the first time,” she answered simply.

They were driving in silence for a few minutes.

“I’m a telepath.”

The look of complete and utter astonishment on Spike’s face was priceless but instead of marveling at this sight Carrie stared blankly at her hands, afraid to look up at him.

“You… you’re what?” he spat out, trying to hold the steering wheel steadily and watch where he’s driving.

“A telepath,” the girl mumbled in response, still avoiding his unbelieving glances.

“Um… Like the mind readin’ kind?”

“No, like the dancing the Macarena kind,” Carrie snorted, impatient by his obvious resistance to accept some hard facts. “What do you think?”

He scowled, not liking the way she treated him, the way that lacked basic respect.

“I don’t think – I ask,” the vampire snarled and she stayed quiet, for the first time scared of him. “Well?” he could hardly wait to hear her respond.

“Yes,” Carrie squeezed herself deeper in the seat.

“Was it the reason why the demons were searching for you?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

And than it hit her with the force of an atom bomb.

“You don’t believe me,” it wasn’t a question – it was a statement. Carrie felt frightened, than betrayed and in the end – simply angry. He wasn’t supposed to doubt her words, he should…

“Pet, it’s not about believing or not – ”

“It fucking sure is!” she shouted at Spike, her eyes glazed again.

“Watch your language, young lady!” the vampire scolded her and his accent changed slightly. If Carrie didn’t know, she would wonder why. Well, but she knew.

“I’m not lying,” Carrie tried again to convince him, she had to, it was the most important thing in the world at the moment. “It’s all I am – them, those other people… Their thoughts, their desires, fears, obsessions, memories… I can’t help it,” her voice was trembling and she had problems with forming a coherent sentence. Carrie was never speaking about that, never ever. How was she going to explain it to him? “They… they keep coming and they’re not mine… Sometimes I fear, that one day I’ll wake up as somebody else. I don’t even know what’s still me and what’s already them… They never shut up! – ” she whimpered, reflexively covering her ears with her hands, as if it was going to work. Spike remained quiet. “You know what’s the worst thing? That it’s never silent where I am. It’s all whispers and murmurs and – ” and she was crying, sobbing like a baby. She was ashamed of her own weakness. It wasn’t what her parents wanted her to be.

And then she felt cool hand touching lightly her own. Carrie looked up at Spike and saw a reassuring smile on his face.

“I know what you’re talking about,” he told her after a while. He was obviously going to explain what he meant but her eyes already widened with comprehension.

“A few years ago I did… something and it didn’t ended well. It actually ended with me as a bloody loony. I was talking to some… ghots of soddin’ Christmas past and all that rot. I got better,” he ensured her. “Later.”

“So, yeah, I guess it’s not all puppies and candies as those poor gits from bleedin’ Hollywood think,” Spike finished in a lighter tone.

Carrie wiped her face with a sleeve and smiled through tears. The vampire casted a quick glance at her and winked.

“Yeah, it’s not,” she agreed generously. “And it’s hard to actually like anybody, with this whole I-know-your-deepest-secrets routine. You know, after a while I stopped liking people at all,” she confessed, relaxing slowly. “They’re… disgusting. Mean and nasty. And they’re always wishing you the worst. I never actually told anybody about… you know,” Carrie still didn’t want to name it. “If somebody knew, he would hate me from the beginning.”

“Why’s that, pet? There are worse things in this soddin’ world than your little… nosiness,” he smirked.

“I am not nosy!” Carrie felt offended but only for a brief second. She started to understand this undead guy and his strange, English sense of humor. “I’m not doing it on purpose. And it’s not only about that, it’s about me being different. A freak. A mutant,” those last words were spoken with disgust.

“Believe me, love, I’ve been called many things in my… life. And I learnt one thing,” Spike looked at her seriously. “Bugger. Them. All.”

The girl chuckled.

“Yeah, I’d like to but it’s hard. It leaves you all… lonely. Okay, and truth be told I do understand why they’re all uncomfortable in the same room with me. I’m happy you’re not,” she rewarded him with a smile, that lightened up the dim inside of the car.

“Why should I?” the vampire asked startled. “I’m… uh – ”

“What? Undead?” Carrie smiled a little and rolled her eyes.

Spike was completely taken aback by that.

“How… how did you – ” he managed to stutter in response.

“Oh, please, I knew from the beginning. There’s really not much left I don’t know about you after spending with you three days… I am what I am,” she finished simply. “And above all, you really have no reflection, and it’s not that common.”

“Sod this,” Spike seemed not plainly angry, he was outraged. “You knew I am a vampire and in spite of that you agreed to come to my apartment?!”

“Like you were going to hurt me anyway – ” she snorted. A big mistake.

“I bloody well could! It could all be an act, I could be luring you into the nest, you could end up dead! –” he yelled at her.

“But I didn’t,” she cut him short. “Oh, come on, I told you what I am doing, I wouldn’t go with someone who was going to hurt me.”

“And how is that?”

“Do I have to spell it to you? A telepath here, hello. Mind reading – it’s what I do!”

Spike looked at her reproachful.

“And the Oscar goes to…” he said sarcastically.

“What does that mean?” Carrie was totally thrown of balance.

“That I really believed you. Congratulations on that one, pet,” he didn’t drop the ironical tone.

“What are you – ”

“It’s true, I’m a vampire. Walking corpse, deader than dead and all that rot. If you had any soddin’ idea about mind reading, you’d know one of the cardinal rules here, love,” Spike refused to look at her, angry, that she had lied to him.

“Enlighten me,” the girl snarled, equally resentful.

“You can’t read a vampire’s thoughts, pet,” he said with vicious satisfaction. “Like you can’t see my reflection in the soddin’ mirrors. ‘cos I do not reflect and neither do my thoughts. Believe me, the ponce of my grandsire had a little encounter with somebody infected by a bloody telepath demon – the girl could hear everyone but him.”

No, Carrie couldn’t believe it. He was comparing her – a gifted, young mind reader – with somebody infected by demon goo? For crying out loud…

“That doesn’t say anything,” she told Spike, folding her arms.

“Yeah? And how do you want to prove you’re telling the truth? Do I have to think about a bleedin’ number from 1 to 10?” he snorted.

“Please, we’re not in a circus and I’m not a clown,” Carrie scowled at him.

“So? How are you going to convince me?” he curled his lips in a mocking grimace.

Carrie smiled casually.

“And how are you going to explain the fact we’ve been talking without using our vocal cords since we got into the car?”

Again, Spike shut up.

***

Los Angeles, 2006

Buffy was startled. There he was, standing casually and carrying his luggage with two strange teenagers by his both sides. Was she Hitler in her previous life, to be punished like that? There was no universe in which that kind of humiliation would be justified. No way.

Was it really Spike? First, she thought it was definitely him, but the longer she was watching this guy the more positive she was that it couldn’t have been the vampire she had known. The details were giving it out. There was no long, black leather coat, swirling characteristically around his ankles – instead he was wearing short, brown jacket and under it nice gray shirt and t-shirt a few tones darker. His pants weren’t black and tight but looser and faded blue. No more military, heavy boots, that could be used as a deathly weapon, no black nail polish… There was only one thing left from his famous punk image – he was still bleaching his hair. If not for that, it would have taken her a while to recognize him.

“Spike,” Angel hissed, immediately annoyed by the same sight of his grandchild.

“Hello, Poofter,” the younger vampire smirked and came in. “Missed me?”

“As much as you can miss syphilis,” Angel replied sarcastically. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Spike smacked at that.

“Is this a proper way to greet ol’ friends?”

“Spike!” Fred, who just had entered the hall, dropped a book she had been holding and with another squeak fell upon him. “You did it! Oh, I did what you told me to, I called this friend of yours and he was really nice – wasn’t he a demon of sorts? he said something about eating kittens and that’s just awful, isn’t it? – but he said he can’t give me your address or anything because he promised not to and he was going to call you but he didn’t call me back to tell me if he did call you and if you were going to come – ”

This little woman was absolutely unbelievable – she was certainly the long run kind. She kept on babbling, no matter no one understood her.

“…and I was worried that you wouldn’t come but you did!” she gave him a huge, bright smile.

“Fred, you asked him to come?” Angel asked incredulously, staring at her with amazement and maybe a little bit of betrayal.

“Well, yeah,” Fred tried look innocent. “We need all help we can get, don’t we?”

Help. He was here to help. Buffy felt her heart sank. Of course he was here to help, what other reason could he have?

From the corner of her eye, she glanced at her friends. The expression on Giles’s and Xander’s face was telling how not delighted by Spike’s presence they were. Willow looked curious, probably thinking about the matter from the professional point of view – he had come back from the deader, hadn’t he? Dawn was obviously conflicted, torn apart between the hatred she had promised him that last year in Sunnydale and the longing for their lost friendship.

What surprised Slayer the most, were the reactions of Angel’s crew. Same vampire seemed to be still a little annoyed but also relieved – was he anxious about his child whereabouts? Gunn was the first one after Fred who friendly shook Spike’s hand and after a moment he was followed by Wesley.

In what freaking bizzaro world, where Angel welcomed Spike’s arrival, had Buffy woke up in this morning? In what strange universe? In what strange universe Spike wasn’t wearing black? And he was accompanied by…

“Hi, I’m Fred,” the physicist turned to the girls, who stood a few steps behind Spike, not interrupting. “Why don’t you come in? I bet you are tired after the journey…”

It was hard not to notice the look the teenagers gave Spike, obviously waiting for his… permission? Buffy wasn’t sure, how to name it, but the fact was it was after the slight nod of his head they approached.

They were a strange couple, being their perfect contraries. One of them, as Buffy noticed earlier, had her hair dyed an aggressive, raspberry pink. Her face was fine with dark, big and innocent eyes – it reminded the Slayer of a porcelain doll. But here the similarities ended, because however the girl was all tiny – short and petite – she didn’t seem fragile. She was wearing colourful, bright clothes, looking a bit like a flower person and a rebel at once. She was scanning the lobby quickly, like she was trying to learn everything about her surroundings and those strange people in a split second.

The other one was taller and slimmer – and apparently stronger. Despite that, she was the calmer one, her moves weren’t so nervous as her friend’s. The look on her pretty freckled face was gentle, but there was also sparkling intelligence and decisiveness in her eyes. She was also dressed differently, classy, even posh, but comfortable at once.

It took only a second for Buffy to make those observations and she subconsciously was measuring them as potential opponents in the fight. She hated herself for thinking about two strange teens like that, but she was what she was. A slayer.

“There really isn’t any way to get rid of him,” Giles mumbled, dragging her out of thoughtfulness.. Unfortunately, Spike’s vampire hearing hadn’t changed a bit.

“What can I say?” he told Giles lightly. “There is no apocalypse I woudn’t live through.”

“Like a cockroach,” the watcher snapped back coldly. “Nothing to be proud of.”

“So,” Spike ignored the former librarian and turned his attention to Fred again. “Which one of the three possible events we talked about is on the soddin’ agenda?” he glanced quickly at Angel. “Because it’s clearly not the first option.”

Fred giggled.

“I’m afraid it’s the third one,” she told him deadpan. “Not that anything else was going on here. Oh, where are my manners? Come on, I’ll show you your rooms. It’s a bit crowded, true, but I think I’ll somehow manage to squeeze your three in.”

“Wait a minute? Your three?” Giles growled and it was really strange and scary to see always perfectly calm Giles to do that sort of thing. “We are facing the Apocalypse and you appear just like that with two teenage girls? Are you insane?! It’s not some bloody camp, it’s a war! And who are they anyway?”

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“This is Carrie,” Spike pointed the girl with pink hair, “and that’s Jenna,” the taller one smiled shyly.

“Oh, right, of course, that explains everything,” the watcher snarled. “It really shows your – ”

“Jenna’s a slayer,” the vampire interrupted him calmly, watching with satisfaction as Giles’s eyes widened.

“And… Carrie?” Wesley asked, but in the contrary to Giles politely.

Buffy had an impression, that for a shortest of seconds Spike’s eyes were focused on her, but then he was looking at the girl in question.

“She’s with me.”

***

Denver, 2004

So, that was it. Their final destiny. Spike and Carrie stood in the front of gray, ugly building in the center of Denver. Children’s shelter.

He looked at Carrie from the corner of his eye. She was trembling but he didn’t knew if it was from fear or cold. She was avoiding his eyes, staring at her new home.

“Here we are,” Spike said quietly, trying to control the over helming guilt. He had to be heartless to leave this girl in a place like that. She was so… sunny. So full of life. So young and innocent. The shelter, on the other hand, looked like a dungeon (only not underground). Spike started to wonder, what kind of people were living there, who was in charge. He felt an urge to talk to the director and ask him to take care of Carrie. And to ask about the drugs, are there any dealers in this centre because drugs could really destroy a person and it would be like all of the light was gone if something like that happened to this girl. Oh, and were they letting the kids express themselves, ‘cos Carrie told him she had been sad for so long that she’d love to change something about her appearance, maybe dye her hair a crazy, lively colour, to remind her that she’s actually still alive.

Bloody hell, what was going on with him? The last time he felt like that – all responsible and paternal – was with Dawn… Well, before she had started to hate him because he had hurt her sister and ruined their friendship. There was no way he was going to start a relationship like that again – he was destined to screw it up completely and he didn’t want Carrie or himself to suffer. He was too tired of pain and so was she.

So he was obviously doing the right thing.

“Will you come in with?” the girl asked him with a plea in her voice. She was holding back her tears, he could see it and it was like a stake to his dead heart.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” he replied, looking away. “Look, you’re going to be bloody safe there, sunbeam.” It was getting really dangerous, if he already had a pet name for her. He had a habit of getting attached to things he had been naming and it always ended the same; with him all alone and heartbroken.

“I know, it’s just – ”

Spike didn’t let her finish – he threw her to the ground. Above her head flew a knife.

“Run!” he told her as he jumped on his feet and pulled her up with him. Three demons were rushing in their direction, growling and holding their weapons, ready to charge.

Attackers had an indisputable advantage against them but it was their lucky day. Demons – however well equipped – were poor fighters and could stand no chance for somebody with Spike’s experience. As the first mercenary lunged at him Spike ducked and threw it off balance. The vampire kicked his opponent a few times, then in one swift motion took its weapon and decapitated it. The others were chasing screaming Carrie but she was way faster than they were. In three leaps Spike reached one of them and before the demon could react he smashed its head. The last one fell with a thrown by Spike ax in its back.

It took a few minutes to calm Carrie down. She was breathing heavily and weeping hyisterically. Spike took the girl in his arms and stared to stroke her messy hair.

“Shh, it’s all right, Sunbeam,” he soothed her. “They didn’t get you, those bloody wankers will never touch you again.”

And then he knew he was not going to leave her because she needed someone to protect her and to guard her cursed gift. He slowly started to understand that all of them – the Poof, Buffy and Powers That Bloody Be – were wrong. Because they could save millions of nameless, strange people, they could be dying all over again but the evil would keep coming. And they couldn’t save them all. They even couldn’t save the majority of them. So maybe he could save just this one? Wouldn’t it be something, to help at least one person from the whole soddin’ world? Wasn’t that a real heroism?

“Don’t you worry, pet,” he whispered, holding his salvation tightly. “Nothing’s bad gonna get you.”

He felt as she started to relax, already knowing that he’s not leaving her. His shirt was wet with child’s tears.

“You’re with me.”