[A/N: I’ve been in lots of pain lately, for a couple of different reasons and its just been a major pain in the ass. The biggest bright spot has been all the wonderful reviews. Things are going to start heating up again, those last couple of chapters were really sort of like a calm between storms. So, here we go. . . . The title is from Herman Melville (I paraphrased it somewhat) and the quotes are as attributed. Disclaimers in full force and effect. I own nothing.]
Previously: Buffy and Spike have talked about chips and blood. Angelus stopped by the house to say hello, but didn’t get a chance to speak, because Tara came to the rescue. This picks up later the next morning.
Book Two. Chapter 17. The ragged edges of truth
Truth titillates the imagination far less than fiction.
Marquis de Sade, L’Histoire de Juliette,
ou les Prosperities du Vice, pt. 3.
Truth, like light, is blinding.
Lies, on the other hand, are a beautiful dusk
which enhances the value of each object.
Albert Camus, The Fall, p. 126
The truth is a snare; you cannot have it, without being caught.
Soren Kierkegaard, The Last Years: Journals 1853-55
Truth uncompromisingly told will always have its ragged edges.
Herman Melville, Billy Budd, Sailor.
Even though they’d given her permission to skip school, Dawn was up early. The baby’s cries had woken her and she couldn’t really get back to sleep. She could hear everyone else moving around downstairs, and she knew Spike was still in bed, but there was no reason for her to be up. It took her a while to finally decide she was getting up and by that time Buffy was in the shower, both the baby and Spike were sleeping again.
After using the bathroom in her mother’s old room, Dawn snuck inside Buffy and Spike’s room. The baby was on his belly, a tiny little lump in the middle of the crib, his dark hair the only spot of color against the pale sheets and blanket. Spike, on the other hand, was sprawled out on the bed, left arm flung wide while the right one was still propped up on one of the pillows. He was sound asleep, his breathing very slow and steady, occasional rumbling noises emanating from his chest. Dawn stood in the little patch of sunlight just watching him, weird thoughts running through her head.
I wonder if that’s why I sleep that way when I’m really tired. . . . does he dream? He stirred, his injured arm jerking with a muscle spasm, then settled quickly. I really hope he’s not mad at me. I don’t want him to be. I can’t believe he got this hurt trying to protect me. Is he crazy? We could have just run away. . . . he didn’t have to stay. . . oh god. He could have been gone. Dust. Tears pooled in her big blue eyes and Dawn sniffled loudly in the quiet room.
There was no change in his muscles, no change in his breathing to indicate he wasn’t anything other than asleep, but Spike’s voice broke into her musings. “Mornin’ Platelet.”
“Ack.” Wiping the tears from her eyes, she sort of griped back at him, “geez Spike, you scared the hell out of me.”
“Nice to know I still can.” His groan of pain seemed to come from his toes and he stretched a bit, trying to ease the healing itch. He hated this part of the rapid healing. Felt like fire ants were crawling around inside his skin for days. Least this time he had morphine to help. When that bint Glory had taken her frustrations out on him, he’d had to keep himself inside a bottle of whatever he could find, but this time he had the good stuff. Right now he needed another shot of it. His skin felt like it was on fire.
“Are you feeling any better?” He’d almost forgotten she was still in the room.
“Eh. Sort of. All itchy.” He was about to ask her to go get him something to soothe it, when her voice caught his attention.
“Why did you do it?”
“Do wha’?” He struggled to lift his head up and she scooted to his side, lifting him and piling the pillows behind him so that he was no longer flat on his back.
“Stay and fight. Why?” She sat down on the bed, one leg folded underneath her, staring at his still battered features.
She had a look on her face that was so reminiscent of her sister he wanted to laugh. He would have too, if it wasn’t the look he hated. “Needed to make sure you were safe. Couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
“But why?” She looked away from him then, mumbling softly, “it might be better if I wasn’t here. No one would get hurt then.”
Without his enhanced hearing, he never would have heard her, but her words went straight to his heart. “Dawn. Look at me.”
The eyes that focused on his were swimming with tears and a very dark blue. “Don’t think like tha’. Your sis couldn’t take ‘nother thing goin’ wrong. Couldn’t forgive m’self if somethin’ were to happen to either of you.”
Her head shook in denial. “Why? I don’t do anything but make people hurt. Glory beat your ass and sucked Tara’s brain because of me. Buffy . . . . “ The tears that had been threatening finally slid down her cheeks and when he reached out his hand to wipe them away, Dawn flinched. “You shouldn’t. . . why did you do it again to protect me? I’m not. . . . I shouldn’t even be here. All I do is destroy everything around me.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This couldn’t . . . “Niblet? Wha’ are you thinkin’? Wasn’t your fault at all what happened. Not then an’ not now.” This time when he reached for her she didn’t flinch, she just collapsed against his side, her head resting on his chest. “Not your fault, sweets. None o’this.”
Running his hand down her long brown hair, Spike wished for a moment that he could really put his arms around her, letting her cry on his shoulder like he did before Buffy came back. Hugging her tighter with his arm, Spike kept up his litany, trying to comfort her. She mumbled something else through her tears and he pushed her back a little, searching her face for signs of what she’d just said.
“Dawn? C’mon. Its not your fault.” Using his thumb to wipe her eyes, Spike tilted her face so that she couldn’t avoid looking back at him, “love you. Do you know that? Love you like no one else. You’re my Niblet.”
He’d thought that would have calmed her, thought she was settling down, but at his softly worded declaration, Dawn burst into fresh tears. She pulled away from him, getting off the bed, her hands balled into fists. “Don’t love me. It will just end up . . . just. . . how can you love me?”
“Because I do.” His voice was calm and deep with emotions he rarely showed anyone. She was so upset she was shaking and he started to get up out of the bed realizing abruptly he was still bare-assed naked under the sheets. “Dawn, c’mere. C’mon.”
Despite her shaking her head no, Dawn sat back down on the bed, this time perched on the edge. Spike reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I love you Niblet. Not the same way I love your sis, but, I love you. Have to take care of the ones I love an’ tha’s you. Both of you.”
Her chin lifted in stubbornness, Dawn refused to look at him, almost growling out, “doesn’t mean you’re supposed to die for us.”
“Yeah, it does. If tha’s how I keep you safe, then tha’s wha’ it means.” He wasn’t going to fail either one of them ever again. If he had to dust to keep them safe, he would.
“No dammit! Don’t you dare die on me. I need you. Stupid vampire. I need you. . . . “ her voice trailed off, after the outburst, her free hand brushing away more tears. “You can’t die. I need you.”
“Niblet. You don’ need me. You’ll be fine without me if it comes to it. You did fine . . . this summer.” She stared at him, not really believing what he was saying.
“No. I didn’t . . . I wasn’t fine all summer. My mother was gone. . . my sist. . . god you are so stupid! Joyce was dead and she. . . and Buffy and. . . the only one of my family that was left was you! I wasn’t fine. I needed my mother!” Her voice had risen to an almost shriek, uncaring about the baby or anyone else overhearing. “Damn you Spike. I needed both my parents! My mother and my father! I needed my mommy and my daddy. And all I had was my father.”
The words had spilled from her in such a rush that she had no idea what she’d said, until she looked up into his face and saw that he’d heard her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hot water. Yeah for showers and hot water. Buffy was in an okay mood, well, a way better mood than yesterday. After Angel’s . . Angelus’ late night visit, they had stayed up a little bit longer and Buffy had finally convinced Spike to take more blood from her. They’d also reached a decision about the chip. They weren’t going to make inquiries, either about surgeons or the Initiative, until Giles came home and they had a chance to confer with hm. For some odd reason, Spike insisted on telling Dawn and he also wanted Tara to know before they got it removed. Buffy had an idea that it was because he cared for the both of them and valued their opinions.
She wasn’t stupid enough to think Xander was going to agree with it at all. But right now, not so sure I care what Xander thinks.
The bathroom door was open just enough in case the baby woke up or if Spike needed her and her train of thought was interrupted by a sound she hadn’t expected. Unable to hear clearly because of the running water, she quickly rinsed off, closing the taps.
Dawn’s voice came through the open doorway, but her words were muffled, her voice low, then she heard “doesn’t mean you have to die for us.”
Grabbing a towel, Buffy stepped closer to the door in time to partially hear Spike’s response, “if tha’s wha’ it takes to keep you safe, then tha’s wha’ it means.”
Resting her head against the door jamb, Buffy almost had to hold herself up. I’m an idiot, coz I know he loves me and god, I do love him back. Dawn was speaking again, well almost shouting, “stupid vampire!. You can’t die on me. I need you.”
You tell him Dawnie! I need him too. Stupid vampire is right. Can’t die on us. We need you too much. Buffy heard his idiotic reply and then Dawn was shrieking at him, only this time it was things Buffy hadn’t heard from her sister before now. Her own tears were sliding from behind closed eyelids as she listened to her sister. “I wasn’t fine all summer. My mother was gone. . . my sist, god you are so stupid! Joyce was dead and she. . . and Buffy and. . . the only one of my family that was left was you! I wasn’t fine. I needed my mother!”
Buffy had to stuff her fist in her mouth to stop her own sobs and she slid inside the open door, her eyes barely able to see the pair on the bed through her tears. “Damn you Spike!. I needed both my parents! My mother and my father. I needed” Dawn’s voice broke and she collapsed in a heap, “my mommy and my daddy. And all I had was my father.”
Buffy’s head snapped up in time to watch Dawn realize what had flown from her mouth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The words had poured forth from her mouth in a torrent, heedless of the consequences, like water held back too long by a dam.
Dawn realized a split second too late what she’d just said. Tears stopped and every muscle froze. Spike was staring at her, almost studying her features. Afraid to move, afraid to stay, Dawn felt the air behind her change, and before she could get up and run, Buffy was there with one hand on Dawn’s shoulder and the other clutching her towel. Involuntarily Dawn dropped her head down, completely missing the look shared between the two adults.
Why can’t I ever learn to shut up?
No one said a word. The room was very silent, the only sounds the rapid breathing of the two youngest occupants.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He knew when she’d turned off the shower. When she stepped onto the rug. When she’d grabbed the towel. When she started listening to Dawn. When her own tears started to compliment her sister’s. When she’d come back into their bedroom.
But she wasn’t the focus of his attention. Dawn was. Her words, her pain and her heartbreak were his focus. And it narrowed even further at Dawn’s slip of the tongue. He’d nearly said something harsh about Hank Summers, then the gist of her words caught him. Dawn wasn’t talking about Hank – she was talking about him. And she obviously never meant to say it out loud, because her face was more shocked than his.
Searching her face, Spike took stock of her features. It had been a very long time since he’d seen himself in a mirror, but he knew his own face, knew when it looked back at him. Why the bleeding hell didn’t I see this before? Am I just as blind as the rest of those idiot scoobies? Dawn looked like his mother. Raising his eyes to the green depths of his heart, Spike also saw Buffy’s features within her sister. . . . no. They weren’t sisters. Not really. The sudden conviction of that notion wouldn’t be shaken.
Over Dawn’s head, Spike stared at Buffy, his eyes on hers. He smiled, then mouthed, “I love you” on her answering smile and whispered, “I know” he turned his attention to . . . their child.
Reaching out his hand, Spike traced a finger down her nose. “That’s mine.”
Dawn jerked her head up so fast she nearly ended up with Spike’s finger in her mouth. Her raised eyebrow and expression weren’t his, which he pointed out by remarking, “that’s all your. . . Buffy.”
“My Buffy?” Dawn finally found her voice.
He thought hard for a second, unsure what to say, just settling on, “not sure how you wan’ to word it, Pet.”
She was silent for long minutes, then finally on a deep indrawn breath, Dawn said, “you’re my parents. My real honest-to-god-parents.”
When neither one said anything to refute her, Dawn continued, “its in the journals Wes brought. I had to know.”
They shared another look over her head, while Spike said, “you took them from the watcher’s. Stole ‘em.”
Lying wouldn’t pay, not at this point. “Sort of. Wasn’t going to keep them. I put back the first set I took.”
“Its okay Dawnie. I guess I understand.” Buffy sat down in front of Dawn, next to Spike, “I think I would’ve done pretty much the same thing.”
Spike remained silent, knowing his actions probably would’ve been worse, but for once letting common sense rule his tongue. Buffy leaned against his shoulder, her hand reaching out to hold onto her, well, sister really doesn’t fit any more does it?
“So what did you find?” Buffy was curious now.
“They’ve been tracking Slayers for a really long time, and they’ve been trying to give them the key for almost as long, but, uh, something kept getting in their way.”
Somehow knowing this was going to end up as his fault even if it wasn’t, Spike asked, “an’ wha’ was that?”
“In the beginning it was because the Slayers weren’t strong enough, or they died just before the monks could come up with a form for the key. But then it was because of a Dark Warrior who was destined to help a Chosen One.” Dawn caught Buffy’s eye and they shared a smile. “A Vampire who kept battling and defeating the Chosen Ones.”
“Been readin’ far too many of the watcher’s books, there, sweet bit. Lay off with the forebodin’ language, will ya?” Spike had grimaced at her intonation, looking away from both the girls.
“I counted seven Slayers you fought – were there more? Oh!” She peeked at Buffy, but went on, “some Slayer you fought just before World War I? She died of her injuries later. So really, you already have a third.”
He growled at her then – a real honest to goodness growl. Dawn realized she’d overstepped a line but wasn’t really sure what it was. Was he more upset about killing the slayer slowly or something else?
“How long have these blokes been followin’ me?” He was aggravated, but he wasn’t really sure about why.
“Since the Boxer Rebellion.” She couldn’t look at either of them, wary now about their reactions to what she was telling them. The tension within Spike had grown considerably, especially since she’d mentioned him fighting slayers, and her sister. . . no, Buffy was just sitting there quietly taking all this in, not saying a word. Which had her more wigged than she wanted to be.
“Bloody fucking hell.” He was. . . he felt . . . he didn’t know what he was feeling. Didn’t mind so much about being Dawn being a part of him, but he really didn’t like the fact that the monks had been following his actions for years.
“Its all in the journals. Well, as much as they knew. I wasn’t sure it was you until they found you again in New York, all decked out in leather and bleached hair.” She tried for being as nonchalant as possible and somehow managed to achieve it.
“Niblet. . . “ his warning was clear.
“What? What am I . . . ?” His eyes shifted to the side, toward Buffy and Dawn finally realized what they’d been talking about. “Oh. Sorry Buff. . .. ” she stopped talking, then in a very small voice said, “Mom?”
But Buffy had only been half listening to their conversation, instead she’d just been watching the two of them, and hadn’t really heard what Dawn had just said. They really do look alike. It was really scary how alike they were. “Its okay, Dawnie. . . I know. Its okay.”
She and Spike had talked about his past some, in the dark hours when they were the only two beings awake in Sunnydale. He hadn’t been all true-confessions, but she knew him well enough to read between what he said and what he wouldn’t say. This information from an independent source wasn’t that big a deal. She wasn’t stupid, he couldn’t possibily have killed the only other two slayers he’d ever fought, he was good, but killing every slayer he’d fought would mean he was the vampire equivalent of a slayer. Although. . .
What had startled her was their resemblance. Without much of a warning, and completely off topic from their prior conversation, Buffy blurted out, “you look just like each other. You didn’t get anything from me.”
And if it wasn’t so serious, Spike would’ve teased her about the petulance of her tone. “She did, Love. Got plenty from you.”
Buffy was shaking her head in denial. Looking at the two of them with a new perspective, she had to admit it. “How did we miss this? Your noses, eyes, pretty much the structure of your faces, and Dawnie got your height.” Her pout was adorable but Spike was ignoring it for now, beginning to point out all their similarities.
“Her mouth is all you kitten. Attitude. Mannerisms. She may look like me, but her personality is all you.”
Opening her mouth to protest, Buffy was interrupted by Dawn, who snarked at both of them, “sitting right here, in the room. On the bed with you.”
“Sorry. Our bad.” Buffy glanced over at Spike who was watching Dawn with a strange look on his face.
“You look like m’mum.” He smiled then, a bit sadly, continuing, “she had hair like yours, only with more of a curl to it. Long and dark, always wore it up. Took it down only to brush. . . . it was down past her waist.” His voice trailed off and both girls held their breath, hoping he would continue, but he kept his silence.
Spike looked away, his eyes on a long dead vision, his mum with Gordie and Janet and. . . His da, before they were all gone and just the two of them were left. Buffy tilted her head at Dawn, silently asking her to move and when she did, Buffy shifted so she was facing Spike. Her left hand reached out to cup his chin gently drawing his gaze back to her. For long seconds he was still not seeing her and Buffy was afraid he was going to shrug her off, when suddenly he was looking at her. His brilliant blue eyes gazed into hers and Buffy’s eyes filled with tears at the expression on his face.
“Family. Spike, we’re a family.”
“Yeah.” He shook off the memories of his first family, smiling at her. “Yeah.”
His hand wiped away tears she didn’t remember shedding and Buffy nuzzled a kiss into his palm. Very slowly she inched closer to him, her words for his ears only. “Yours Spike. We’re yours. I’m yours.”
Resting his forehead against hers, his big hand still cupping her cheek, her hand now resting on his shoulder, Spike rumbled softly, “I love you Buffy Anne Summers. F’rever.”
Pulling her close, tucking her head under his chin so that her breath warmed the spot where his heart used to beat, Spike breathed deeply, raising his eyes to where Dawn stood watching them.
“C’mere you.” He rumbled at the teen, gesturing her forward with his left hand. Buffy moved her legs, creating a spot for Dawn, who just put her head down on Buffy’s hip. Spike smoothed out her hair, slipping the brown strands through his fingers. Dawn wiped the tears from her eyes, while Buffy curled her arms around Spike.
His voice was low and deep, curling like warm liquid chocolate through both of them, the words a promise and an oath “love both of you. My girls.”
They were quiet for a long time, none of them willing to break the silence, until there was a rustling of sorts and the baby started crying.
Okay, I'm so nervous about this one, you have to let me know what you think. Please.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This one is special and important, so I really, really, truly need the feedback of what you think about this one. Good, bad or otherwise, please let me know.