I am gobsmacked. I wish I had enough space here to thank each and every single one of you that reviewed that last chapter. I cannot thank you enough. I almost feel like Sally Field did when she won the Oscar "You like me! You really like me!" My thanks to the ones that review all the time -- and you guys are the best; but I'd like to thank everyone who hadn't reviewed up until now and did for that last chapter. You made a very, very difficult week a bit easier. Namaste and Slainte. Nia
[A/N: Did anyone jump when Buffy saw Angel standing in their bedroom with bloody hands? If you didn’t I’m not doing my job right, and I’ll have to try harder to scare you. Title is from the soundtrack for The Lost Boys (can we all just. . . sigh over the hotness that was Keifer Sutherland in that movie?), from the song of the same title and the quotes are, as always, as attributed. Disclaimers in full force and effect.]
Previously: Buffy has had a slayer dream, but hasn’t interpreted it yet. Wesley, Connor and the rest of those living at Revello Drive plus two others are all safe and sound. The wards around the house have been strengthened. This picks up immediately following the last chapter..
Book two, chapter 9. Don’t cry little sister
It is some relief to weep; grief is satisfied and carried off by tears.
Ovid
Tears are the safety valve of the heart when too much pressure is laid on it.
Albert Smith
Grief has limits, whereas apprehension has none.
For we grieve only for what we know has happened,
but we fear all that possibly may happen.
Pliny the Younger
It was ridiculously early to be up when she’d only had a couple hours of sleep, but she couldn’t stay that way. Nightmares kept waking her. Disturbing images of the aftermath of her first real date and Dawn couldn’t shake them. Images of Spike as he’d been when Buffy brought him home, others of Buffy coming home alone – shattered, beyond reaching, grief-stricken and bereft. Dawn remembered all too well what it was like in the days just after Buffy’s jump – could never forget them. The burning aching hole in her belly that got caught in her throat whenever she thought about it, it was back. It was what wouldn’t let her sleep, wasn’t allowing any rest. She wanted to vomit, she wanted to cry. . . . to scream, to yell at someone. . . she wanted to put her head against Spike’s chest and cry. Let him hold her. Tell her he was gonna be okay. That he didn’t blame her.
Not that it would help at all. This was all her fault. If she wasn’t the key, none of this, absofreakinglutely none of this would have happened. Except for Joyce dying and Riley leaving, everything else bad that had happened in the last year had been her fault. Because she was the Key. Not anyone else’s fault. Hers.
It was all her fault. Glory beating on Spike, Tara’s getting her brain sucked, Buffy . . . jumping. And now this. Dawn stared up at her ceiling, Kirsten sleeping quietly beside her and wondered what her purpose was. Am I just gonna destroy everything and everyone . . . . piece by piece, one at a time? Why am I here if that’s all I’m good for?
Tears welled up in her eyes. The house was quiet, too quiet for a house with so many people here at once.
Getting up, Dawn looked at her companion. How she had gotten involved in this Dawn had no idea, but every time something weird or bad happened at school, Kirsten was around. Which kind of set off slayer-type alarms.
I’ll just be Scarlet and think about that tomorrow. One last look at the other girl and then Dawn was out of her room and opening the door to Buffy and Spike’s room before she realized it.
Opening the door to their room just wide enough to slip through, Dawn gently closed the door behind her. Neither of the figures on the bed moved, but then again, she hadn’t expected either of them to. Spike was flat on his back, his right arm resting on a small pillow, his head leaning to his left, close to her sister. Buffy was curled up next to him, wrapped up in a big bath towel and nothing else. Her towel-wrapped head was nearly resting on Spike’s uninjured left shoulder. Their left hands were clasped together, laying across his belly, Buffy’s smaller hand nearly swallowed up under Spike’s larger one.
Just looking at their hands made the lump in her throat travel. She wished she was a little kid, then it wouldn’t be freaky if she climbed into bed with them. Part of her wished the monks had made her smaller – little enough to enjoy being theirs. Climbing into bed would give her some reassurance, something she desperately needed, especially from Spike.
Dawn stood at the foot of the bed, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, uncertain about what to do. Should I go? Leave them alone? Don’t want to do that. Just want to stay. It was only when she shifted that she realized she was crying, probably had been since she’d walked in and seen them both.
Giving in to her sudden need to touch them both, Dawn crept closer to the bed. They looked so . . . . despite the bruises and bandages, they looked cute . . . no. Not cute. Right. They looked right together. And cold.
Taking the light comforter that was folded up at the foot of the bed, Dawn spread it over them. Her hand covered their entwined fingers, nearly jerking away when Spike’s hand twitched. He didn’t wake up, though, which almost disappointed her.
She needed to see his eyes, needed to see that sparkle he had, just to reassure herself he was still with them. Dawn’s hand hovered over theirs. She was torn between touching and not touching. Unable to stand it any longer, Dawn laid her hand gently over theirs. Spike’s usual coolness was replaced with a slight warmth, definitely borrowed from Buffy but instead of bothering her, it gave her some comfort.
Without much conscious thought, Dawn walked around to the opposite side of the bed, coming round to where Buffy was curled up against him. Kneeling beside her, Dawn couldn’t resist any longer. The tears were clogging her nose and streaming down her cheeks. She slipped down behind her sister. Silent sobs wracked her and she curled into Buffy’s smaller body.
It was barely eight in the morning - the sun already begun its ascent into the sky when Dawn laid down beside them and barely a half hour passed before Spike stirred. She wasn’t asleep, was in that sort of in-between state, just sort of numb. His low groan caught her attention and she could feel him shifting and stretching from her position. Buffy automatically adjusted, her answering murmur a soft exhalation of sound. Spike inhaled loudly, Buffy’s name escaping from him. Dawn smiled, listening to the two of them shift and stir, instinctively reaching out for the other. Buffy’s arm moved and she shifted closer to Spike.
Dawn felt like she was . . . not intruding, but getting a glimpse into how things really were between them. Buffy stirred again and Dawn nearly jumped out of her skin when Spike ground out, “mornin’ Niblet. You okay?”
A half sobbing laugh sounded from her throat. “I’m fine. . . you. . how’re you feeling?”
“Truck run over me.”
“Oh god Spike, I was so scared. I thought. . . “
“Not going like that. Not now. Not ever.”
“Dawnie. . . . let him sleep.” Buffy’s sleepy voice sounded between them. Taking away the sting of her words, Buffy disengaged her hand from Spike’s and reached around to touch Dawn. She grabbed her sister’s wrist and with an indrawn breath Buffy pulled away quickly. Dawn grabbed her again, this time lifting her hand up to look at her wrist.
“You should put a band-aid on these.” Then after a second, she asked, “would mine help? Being the Key? Would it be better than regular human?”
Buffy sat up slowly, trying not to jostle Spike who was listening to their quiet conversation. “I don’t know Dawnie. Not sure what your blood would do. We know mine is best.” Now a bit more awake, Buffy unwrapped the towel from her hair, facing her sister. “You aren’t wigged . . . how come?”
“Its not that big a deal is it? Spike needs it. You’ve got it.” Thinking about it Dawn continued, “Xander would wig big time. Tara not so much and Giles?” She shrugged. “Do what you think is best Buffy. Not my decision. But I wanna help.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to just blurt it out and tell them both what she’d found out – but no one knew she even had the journals, much less read them. She couldn’t tell them like this. So she bit the inside of her cheek to remind herself of that.
“Oh Dawnie. . . maybe when he’s a bit. . . “
“No. Not biting you Nib. Not now. No.” Spike wasn’t going to argue it not now, but he’d explain later. . . maybe.
Dawn sat up, insulted and hurt. “Gee Spike make me feel wanted.”
Guessing what was in Spike’s head – about crossing a line with her sister and creating a need for a vampire’s touch within Dawn, Buffy had to agree with him. “Dawnie, let’s talk about this later okay?”
“Love you Nib, don’ wan’ t’ hurt you.” He waited a bit, then repeated himself. “Love you.”
Dawn’s face crumpled, her sobs shaking her shoulders. Buffy looked down at Spike, seeing his barely opened eyes looking back at her, a wealth of understanding in their unspoken communication. Turning to her sister, Buffy pulled her into her arms and let her cry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dawn was still the only one awake when Giles called to check in and report on his progress or lack thereof. He knew immediately that something was wrong just by the way she’d hesitated before telling him that Buffy was still asleep.
“Tell me Dawn. Don’t leave anything out.”
And she didn’t, spilling it out for him in horrifyingly minute detail without her usual girlish side commentary. Which also told him how bad it truly was.
There was absolute silence when she’d finished, then, “I have to stay at least a few more days Dawn. There are things I must see to. But I won’t waste time. When Buffy wakes tell her I’ll be back as soon as possible. I’ll call back at,” and she could hear him fumbling for a watch, “three your time.”
‘Okay Giles. I’ll make sure she’s awake.”
“Dawn?”
“Yeah?”
“Spike is tough. He’ll pull through this.”
Tears clogged her throat and all she could manage was an “ahuh.”
“Dawn. He’s a vampire. Takes more than what happened to kill him.” Didn’t stop her from feeling guilty about what happened.
She whispered back, “I know.”
“Take care Dawn. Speak with you in a few hours.”
Giles disconnected the call and mentally re-arranged his itinerary and his priorities for the rest of this trip. Changing his mind, Giles tapped on the driver’s shoulder, directing him to the Council’s headquarters instead of going back to his hotel. No time to waste unwinding and spending a lazy Sunday afternoon doing nothing until the morning before resuming his research. He was needed back home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After hanging up with Giles, Dawn grabbed some cereal and headed for the living room – stopping short when she spied Oz’ sleeping form. What, is everyone sleeping here now?
Wrinkling her nose, she turned around and walked right into Wesley. His hands reached out to steady her and Dawn hid the squeal of-my-god-its-him that was threatening, instead she settled for the squeal-of-startled-surprise. “Wes!”
“Sorry Dawn. Phone woke me.” He turned back toward the kitchen. “Need some coffee. Any here?”
“Yeah its all set up. Tara usually does it before she goes to bed.” Flipping the switch, Dawn smiled at him. “How did you sleep?”
Looking at his disheveled state and the two day stubble gracing his features, Dawn figured it was a stupid question, but she couldn’t think of anything smart and intelligent to say to him. He usually did that to her, made her all tongue-tied and feeling very foolish and very, very young.
“Actually, all things considered, I slept fairly well. Just not long enough.” He searched around for a coffee mug, his gaze averted, which gave Dawn ample time to just stare at him, and asked her “and you?”
“Huh? Oh. Um. . . okay I guess. Kinda worried about Spike.” She hid her blush when he turned around to look at her by dipping her head down and focusing on her cereal. But Wesley caught her pink cheeks and ducked his own head. He’d never been the focus of a teenaged crush and he had no idea how to react or even if he should. He liked Dawn, she was a cute little . . . looking at her intently, Wesley realized she wasn’t a little girl anymore, wasn’t nearly the same little girl he falsely remembered from a few years back. She was at that age when men his age got into serious difficulties by looking. And it was worse because Dawn was growing into his type of woman. . . . tall, smart and beautiful. Wesley realized he was going to have to be very careful around Dawn. Very careful indeed. Temptation was not something he wanted right now. And god knows what Spike would do to him if he ever found out.
“He’s going to be fine, Dawnie.” Tara’s voice came from the basement doorway, a mewling baby held in her embrace. “We’re going to make sure he’s fine.”
Turning a grateful glance at the older girl, Dawn motioned for the baby and when she had him in her arms, began cooing at him. “We need to get lots of supplies while the sun is up.”
Wesley looked down at himself, noting his days old clothing and the need to be clean gripped him. “Both the baby and I are going to need things. I don’t know where else to go with him.”
Bottle and formula in hand, Tara stopped what she was doing to look at Wesley. “You did the right thing by coming here. If Angelus is back we have to stay together. All of us.”
Without looking up from the baby, Dawn said, “this time we need to just stake his sorry ass and not worry about re-souling him.”
Neither one of the adults had an argument against that statement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Every inch of him was in pain. He ached all over, with parts that were throbbing in screaming counterpoint. The morphine was wearing off and he was reluctantly waking up. Sleep would be easier. His head was a mass of pain, sharp, spine-bending, ice-hot shards of shrieking pain in his head. Groans of complaint fought for release in his throat and he tried vainly to suppress them. Brief flashes of last night’s events circulated in his head, moments only, mere blurbs, a punch, a kick. No more than that. Later flashes, strange voices, different hands on him and much later, Buffy’s touch, her kisses and the sweet taste of her blood.
A soft groan sounded and she was instantly awake. “Spike?”
Her head lifted away from his shoulder, a light touch against his skin. “Kit . . kitten.”
“Shhhh. I’m right here. Gonna take care of you. Want some pain killers? Need blood?”
He blinked, focusing on her, his eyes shifting to look at her, “yeah.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back with the painkillers.” She slipped on one of his tee shirts, and a pair of shorts, nearly flying out the door.
Spike closed his eyes, straining his ears to hear what was going on. The girl’s voices were easy to pick out, but there was a deeper voice, that he didn’t recognize at first, but then he heard a phrase and knew it was Oxford. Not catching the implications of that, Spike was glad someone else was around to help the girls.
He must have drifted, because Buffy was shaking him awake, a morphine bag and a straw in one hand. “I’m not sure how much to give you. I don’t know how much they gave you last night. I . . “ her voice broke and she wiped away a tear.
His left hand lifted to cup her cheek. “Half” he managed to croak out.
She let her cheek rest there for a bit, just grateful he was awake and still with her. Her eyes watched him, drinking in his presence. Finally she lifted her eyes to meet his, a soft smile on her face. “So glad you’re here.”
His eyes sparked, glittering in their intensity. “Love you.”
As an answer she kissed his palm, then reluctantly broke away from his touch. “So drugs or me first?”
A chest deep growl sounded from him and Buffy suppressed her smile. “Drugs. Best last pet.”
“Thought you would say that.”
Poking a hole in one end of the bag, Buffy stuck the straw into it, offering it to him. Memories of him chained in the bathtub came back to them both, and Buffy giggled, saying ”no teasing this time. I promise.” Then growing serious, “I want you to be able to bite me.”
The look in his eyes spoke volumes and Buffy’s heart beat picked up. When he was better. . . oh yeah. She thought about the two other times he’d bitten her, feeling her whole body flush.
Lost in each other’s eyes, they didn’t realize he’d practically inhaled just under half the bag in record time. “Okay Spike. . . ready for some extra special Buffy goodness?”
His smile was much more of a grimace, but his whispered “please” sent shock waves through her whole body.
Buffy froze for a moment, wishing he could act on the promise implicit in his husky whisper. She needed to show him. . . to prove to him and herself that this wasn’t one sided. . . that she cared about him. . . that he was in her heart.
Resting against him, Buffy kissed his shoulder, her right arm beneath her. Raising her left wrist to his mouth, Buffy asked him, “do you wanna try biting or should I do like earlier?”
“I’ll try.” Opening his mouth, Spike kissed her, at the spots marking where he’d drunk earlier. His tongue came out, little licks running over her skin, just tasting her. Spike closed his eyes, his tongue tip playing over the flesh of her wrist. Buffy’s breath hitched and she fought a tiny gasp as he slowly, gently bit down, pulling at her skin.
Her heartbeat double raced, pounding against her ribs. He tugged on the skin just above her biggest vein as his tongue circled on that tiny bit of flesh. Her blood pulsed beneath the healing cuts, leaping toward his mouth, aching to be part of him.
Buffy’s eyes drifted closed her senses narrowed on that tiny strip of flesh inside his mouth. His left hand dropped, no longer holding her arm against him. He fisted his hand, his knuckle rubbing against her mound. In response she writhed, seeking any contact with his body. His face shifted, his canines elongated once the overpowering scent of her arousal filled him and she lifted her hips, Spike gently, slowly sunk his teeth inside her flesh. Her gasp of pleasure echoed loudly in his ears, “Spike. . . oh. . . “ her breath was hitching, trying to get in enough air to whimper his name.
He drank slowly, not wasting a drop, as she curled closer into his side. The morphine kicked in and his muscles relaxed, his face shifting back to human. Buffy rested her head against the side of his face, brushing small kisses on his skin. Long before she thought he was finished, Spike licked the cuts, closing them off. “Thank you kitten.”
Drawing in a deep breath, he rested his left hand down alongside hers, both of them across his belly. Contented gurgles rumbled in his belly and Spike sighed. Buffy stirred beside him, entwining their fingers together. She whispered something against his bare shoulder, sounding suspiciously like ‘sleep now’ and he drifted off in a jumble of thoughts filled with Buffy and home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first thing they decided was rather than scramble about for whatever they could remember they needed, was that they needed to be working from a list. Wesley was at a loss about what they needed for a newborn, but Tara proved to be a wealth of information, apparently from first hand expertise. Wesley was acting as scribe, writing down everything Tara said to, while Dawn fed the baby.
When Buffy had come down the stairs earlier to get supplies for Spike, she’d just stared at the baby, muttering “thought I imagined that last night.”
A hasty explanation from Wesley had brought her somewhat up to speed, but Buffy had shaken her head, unable to focus on what might be coming until Spike was at least sitting up. Instead she had gazed up at Wesley, noting his tired eyes and almost defeated stance, saying, “not worried about him right now. Its daylight and he can’t travel between here and there.”
Turning to Tara, Buffy asked, “can you do a disinvite?” Then thinking again, “we’re gonna need weapons from Giles’. Can you guys pick those up also? And anything else we might need from the Magic Box.”
Exchanging looks, Tara and Wesley both answered at the same time, “we can do the disinvite,” then Tara continued, “we’re gong to have to split up. This way we aren’t going to be caught out after dark. Its already after two.”
Buffy looked up at the clock, disbelief on her face. “Is it?”
Dawn picked up her head, looking at her sister for the first time since she came downstairs. It was clear Buffy had been crying and she looked like she hadn’t slept well at all. “Buffy? How is he?”
A deep sigh sounded in the air, and Buffy tried to control the tears that were threatening, saying, “he’s awake and most of the cuts have healed. I’m not sure about anything else. He is talking, so I guess his jaw is healing too. Hard to tell right now.”
Her sister relaxed but not enough, Dawn’s body was still tense, and her worry was clearly evident. “Can I see him again?”
“Maybe later Dawnie, okay?” Buffy grabbed a straw, then headed back toward the stairs, her voice trailing behind her, “let me know when you guys leave.”
Once Buffy was back upstairs, the other three pointed shared looks. Neither of the two adults had said anything about re-doing the disinvite, but then again, Buffy hadn’t waited for a response. Tara was the first to recover, going over the list Wesley had been writing, asking him to add all the things Buffy had mentioned, plus whatever else she was going to need for healing and warding.
Dawn was still cuddling the baby close and as he started falling asleep, she asked, “who’s going to take the baby?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She wasn’t asleep, not really, just in a sort of fugue state, where she wasn’t really awake. Spike was breathing beside her, his chest rising and falling in time with hers, but he was deep asleep. Right after he’d done so, Buffy had checked his right leg, which hadn’t been broken badly, just a fracture and the swelling was all gone, the bruising subsided from the livid dark purple nearly black they had been to a less intense purple-bluish color. It was a good sign.
He’d been able to talk a bit also, another good sign. She was mostly worried about his right arm, since that was the one that had broken through his skin. Right now it was propped up on a pillow, but she was afraid to unwrap the bandages to look at it. It had stopped seeping blood earlier while they slept the first time, and she wasn’t looking forward to changing those bandages. He was mostly clean, though they hadn’t washed his hair, Oz’ aunt Maureen had made sure the blood was cleaned up from his body after the doctor had patched him up. Getting his hair clean would have to wait until he could get into the shower, which wasn’t going to be at least until sometime tomorrow.
Their hands were still entwined, resting across his belly, which was free of bruises now. Buffy was watching the dust motes dance across the room, the late afternoon sunlight hitting her mirror, causing cross beams of indirect light, the only illumination in their room. The idle thought crossed her mind that she was going to have to redecorate, adding dark drapes, so that Spike wouldn’t get hit by stray beams of sunlight. This was their bedroom now, it was only right that he be able to enter it without worrying about bursting into flame issues.
Buffy was mulling over ideas, not really thinking seriously about anything, in a half droused state, when there was a soft knock on the door.
“Buffy?” Tara’s voice sounded from behind the closed wood and at her sleepy muffled answer, the older girl opened the door. “How’s he doing?”
“Sleeping now.” Placing a kiss on his shoulder, Buffy loosened their hands and rolled over to face Tara. “What’s up?”
“Well. . . “ Tara started fiddling with the sleeves of her blouse, a sure sign she was hesitant about what she was about to say. Taking pity on her, Buffy said, “tell me.”
“We can’t take the baby when we go out. He’s got no clothes and we can’t spare the hands.” She wouldn’t look at Buffy’s face, afraid the Slayer would be angry.
Instead, Buffy just sighed, “bring him in here. He can stay with us.”
“You sure?”
“Tara, you guys need to do lots of stuff, having to carry him around is just gonna slow you down. Bring him in here.” Making a face, she continued, “think I can take care of both of them?”
That comment elicited a soft giggle from the taller girl. “Shouldn’t be too hard. He’s sleeping most of the time and we just fed him. He’ll be good for a couple of hours.”
“Okay.” Then she laughed sadly. “Sounds like both of them.”
Spike stirred, a groan passing through his lips and Buffy focused her attention back to him. He didn’t wake, though, and she motioned Tara to go get the baby and bring him back.
Gonna give me some more sugar? Let me know what you're thinking . . . . please?
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