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Uncertainty

The world was rocking violently. No that was just her. Someone was shaking her. They were yelling at her to get up. Her mind was fuzzy and her thoughts scattered. She couldn't seem to piece together reality. It was Dawnie; Dawnie was yelling at her and shaking her. Dawnie was Ok. Had she been in danger? Oh yeah, Glory. Buffy's eyes popped open. Her sister was crouched over her, hands on both her shoulders, sobbing loudly. "Buffy, Buffy, Oh My Gawd! Are you alright! You and Spike wouldn't wake up."

Oh, Spike. Buffy felt a crushing weight of loneliness and loss. Oh please no. She heaved herself up on her elbow so that she could see Spike. He was lying next to her on his back. Limbs spread akimbo in a rare display of gracelessness. If she wasn't seeing him she wouldn't have even known he was there. He was completely gone from her head. There was no trace of him at all, as if he'd never been there at all. Buffy wanted to run naked through the night screaming. Buffy wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and sob hopelessly. Buffy wanted to latch onto him and beg him to make it right with them again. Because her whole world suddenly seemed wonky. She'd always walked alone; it just wasn't until this moment that she realized just how lonely it was.

"What happened?" She asked, shocked at the cracked hoarse voice that came from her throat. "Where's Glory?" She started to use her mind to wake up Spike but then with a wince had to call for him out loud. He twitched awake and his eyes latched onto her. She almost wept at the horrified frantic look in his eyes. He missed her too. Dawn was enthusiastically bubbling over with details about green light and Glory's screams. He looked away first, climbing stiffly to his feet and offering her a hand. She took it gratefully, intensely aware of his cool strong fingers. His touch felt strange without the accompanying maelstrom of sensations in her head. Did her touch still do the same thing to him, or was she just another Slayer again?

She held back tears bravely and focused on her sister. She was sparkling with happiness that everyone was alright. She was completely unaware that Buffy's world was collapsing in on itself and that things would never ever be alright again. "Alright pet, got the green light covered. Where's the sodding drama queen?" Dawn started crying again and Spike released her hand to pull her sister into his arms. He held her sobbing form close to him for a few minutes before it occurred to Buffy that she ought be alarmed that the evil undead had her helpless sister cradled close to him. Buffy was a bad bad Slayer and an awful sister. She couldn't even summon a token amount of fear.

"Shhh kitten, it's alright. Calm down and tell Spike what happened." Dawn began actively trying to calm down, taking big gulps of air and wiping at her eyes.

"I don't know where she is. She was just gone. She disappeared in all the light." Her sister wheezed out. "She flashed, kind of two dimensional like, in and out at least a dozen times and then she disappeared. All the light quit and you guys just fell." She took another shuddering breath and swiped at the tears again. "I was so afraid she would come back and I couldn't wake you guys up. I know you're supposed to dust if you die but you were so cold and still. And I couldn't wake you up." She buried her head in Spike's shoulder, but the crying seemed to be at an end. "Buffy was barely breathing at all, and even when I shook her and shook her she just wouldn't wake up."

Buffy envied her sister the comfort of Spike's embrace. Would she ever feel that comfort again? Highly unlikely. Spike met her gaze over her sister's bowed head and they stared at each other for a long breathless moment before she broke eye contact. She peeled herself up off the floor and walked over to the phone and picked it up. With the state of damage in the room it was almost a surprise when the dial tone rang in her ear. She dialed home and took stock looking around the room. Blood stains on the carpet, holes in the walls, feathers everywhere. But no bodies, not one. With all the blood maybe she ought to be thinking about how to get out all stealthy like, wouldn't do to be seen.

Her mother answered on the second ring. A forced cheerfulness overlying the echo of tears in her voice. "It's me mom. I've got Dawn, we're coming home." Her mother just began to cry. "We're all OK mom, she's just a little shook up. We'll be home soon."

Spike scooped up Dawn in his arms. She wasn't hurt, she could have walked, but she didn't protest the way that Buffy would have. Instead she looped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder in a gesture of absolute trust. She felt like she ought to protest but couldn't raise the energy. She knew Spike wouldn't hurt her sister. "It's a long way up to take the window sweetheart." Spike said as he Vamped by the door, head tilted listening. "There's no one in the hall."

She joined him, met his eyes again, silence between their minds, and pushed the door open resolutely. She followed Spike out, closing the door behind her and waltzing with him down the hallway like they owned it. They reached the elevator and Dawn reached out to press the button. "You should put her down, draw less attention to us." He placed her on her feet and Buffy reached out, grabbing her hand and squeezing gently. Thankfully no one was in the elevator and no one paid them any mind when the left the same way they came in. Down the back stairs, through the kitchen.

The streets were dark and deserted and Buffy almost protested when Spike ducked into a phone booth and called a cab, but one look at her sister changed her mind. She was swaying on her feet, her features tired and drawn. Dawn wasn't up to the walk home. "How did you know how to defeat her?" Buffy asked in a soft undertone.

"I didn't, I was just trying to get her off you." The cab was a tight fit, Dawn sandwiched between them. When they arrived home she tensed, terribly afraid that Spike wouldn't even come in with her. But he made no move to leave, opening the door for her like he always did. Her mom hugged her several times before everyone else got a chance to hug her. She gave a very brief account of what happened. She didn't know why she didn't tell them that her bond with Spike had been severed. It wasn't necessarily that she didn't want them to know, more like she wasn't ready to say it out loud. Giles looked extremely grave and started mumbling about books he needed to look in.

"I want to make sure she's really gone Giles, not just zapped or something."

"Of course, Buffy. I'll look into it thoroughly. I have a feeling this event may also give us some insight into your bond with Spike…" He looked up at her and his eyes shifted from Watcher to concerned friend. "Buffy, are you alright. You look a little pale."

"No I'm fine, really Giles. I'm just a little tired." She glanced around for Spike and felt a moment of panic before she stomped on it ruthlessly. Just because he wasn't in the room didn't mean he had left.

She saw Giles to the door. He was dropping off her various friends at their homes, Wills at the dorm. Faith said she wanted to stay at a hotel but her mother insisted that she sleep here. Her mother started on dinner. It was already very late but no one had eaten with all the stress and her mother would never let anyone go to bed hungry. Buffy climbed the stairs carefully, trying to be silent. If he was listening for her he would know she was coming. She pushed open the door to her room but didn't enter. Spike sat in the chair by the bed, his head in his hands, his despair almost a palatable presence in the room. Angel was sitting up across from him, his elbows on his thighs.

"I've lost her. She's lost to me." Said Spike brokenly, almost so low she couldn't hear him. She thought Angel might know she was there but he made no indication.

"Come to LA Spike. Take sanctuary. Find your center again; figure out what you want to do now."

"I don't want to go to sodding LA Peaches."

"You're a wreck Spike and some random killing spree won't help you. I've never seen you like this."

"And you think LA will be my sanctuary?" He gave a bitter laugh. "There's no such thing Peaches. We can't all have shiny souls and redemption."

Buffy backed out silently and crept back down the stairs.

Her mother made roast beef. When supper was ready she went back upstairs. She had about chewed her tongue off, with Cordelia and Faith for company. But they'd watched some stupid cheerleader movie that made Cordie happy. Spike was sitting by the window in his chair and Angel appeared to be asleep again. In her bed. She shivered. Her bond with Spike was apparently over and still the sight of her former lover in her bed did not send goosey shivers down her spine.

"Spike," She whispered. "Should I wake Angel for this blood or wait?" She held up the glass filled with the heavy liquid and he turned to her.

"It'll keep, he needs sleep more than anything else." He said, turning. Her breath caught when he rolled smoothly to his feet and waltzed towards her, all cocky swagger and silky grace.

"Come downstairs, eat with us." She said softly in reply. He looked for a moment as if he wouldn't but instead he gestured for her to precede him and followed her down the stairs.

Dawn broke the silence of the dinner table, regaling the group with a detailed account of her capture and rescue. Enough of the details had been altered that it was a different story altogether. Spike was sprawled next to her, all casual coolness, occasionally adding to the conversation. "Oi bit, don't forget when the Slayer smashed her with that chair. Bloody brilliant that." Or "Take's a bit more than a mere God to stop our Slayer, eh bite size?" As if nothing was wrong.

"Sleeping arrangements will be a bit rough." Her mother said apologetically. Faith if you don't mind taking the couch, Dawn can bunk with me and Cordelia can have her room."

"The Summers couch is familiar territory Miss Summers." Faith drawled, slumped down in her chair. She had apparently decided that flirting with Spike got her nowhere and it wasn't worth sitting up if there wasn't a male to impress.

"I was thinking that you and Spike could bunk upstairs in the attic. You're grandmother's bed is up there and it wouldn't take Spike long to put it together." She carefully didn't look at him. He really could take his car and get anywhere he wanted before daybreak.

"How's the light up there mum?" He asked, fishing out his cigarettes, pulling one out, placing it between fine lips, leaving it unlit. He didn't smoke in the house when her mom was home. How come she didn't merit the same respect?

"Oh there's and eastern window, but it's small. I thought you guys could cover it up."

"Sounds lovely mum, a right getaway for me and the Duchess." She gave him a small smile. He was so nice to her mom, her family.

"It's very late, Dawnie, to bed with you. I'll see to our guests and be up." Buffy glanced at the clock. It was very late, or early depending on how you looked at it. Spike pushed away from the table and went out on the porch to smoke. Just a few hours ago she would have joined him, instead she went upstairs to shower. She made it quick, dressing in the flannel pajama's her mother left on the toilet. When she came out of the bathroom she jumped, startled to find Spike lounging in the hallway. It didn't seem right for him to be able to startle her.

He moved into her personal space without touching her. "Mmmm warm wet Slayer," He growled at her, pitched low so listening ears wouldn't hear. She smiled up at him, suddenly shy, and pointed at a door.

"Those are the attic steps." She went to the linen closet, getting sheets. And blankets. The upstairs could be chilly sometimes. He went into the bathroom and shut the door. A moment later she heard the spray come on. She fought down the desire to enter the bathroom, wash his hard taut body down with suds. Kiss his neck, his lips. If he'd wanted to shower with her he'd have come in.

She went upstairs and took stock of their, what had Spike called it? "Getaway" There were boxes piled up around the room, old furniture draped with sheets. The light from the bare bulb was spotty with dust. The bed was all the way at the back of the attic, the frame in pieces. She frowned at the small window, trying to decide how best to cover it to keep Spike safe from sun. She draped a heavy blanket over the curtain hardware that was over the window and then began stacking heavy boxes up in front of it. No light would get in. What were they going to do?







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