For years he was alone. It had taken time, perhaps millennia, but he had put the warm things that haunted him away. They were just dreams. And, his world was no place for dreams. His world was wild and savage, as was he.

But now, something was amiss. The sounds were wrong. The warmth was where it should not be.

He’d learned to live in a world that was toxic and harsh. In his world, there were deadly things everywhere.

Where he was, warm things, things soft and small and sweet, did not survive. They were rare, and precious, but he had them, once. He’d tamed the world for his little bit of light. They were fleeting, and warm.

But warm things didn’t belong in the world he came from. They withered and died. He’d seen it, watched it happen, and when it did, it made his eyes wet.

One horrible day, the warmth and light of his world left, and never returned. And, he was cold, in a way he hadn’t been before.

He’d lived with the pain, the cold, and the emptiness of life in the only place he’d known.

Then he awoke to sights and sounds that had followed him into his sleep for hundreds of years. Awoke to things that made his eyes wet, and his quiet heart ache. To things that a beast like he could never, should never have.

His eyes opened to the pleasing darkness, and for an instant, he thought something from his dreams had taken pity on his lowly form, and sent him back to what he knew.

Once, he did dream. But, dreams were painful. He didn’t dream of light and soft anymore, and yet, he felt it near- and it frightened him.

This world was so frightening. Even the strange skins the angel had given him to cover himself with, were unnerving to a body that was no longer accustomed to them.

Somewhere in his heart, he knew that wearing them would be pleasing to her, so he wore them.

His eyes fell upon the angel beside him. Her eyes were closed in sleep. And even though the things of this world he’d been thrown into were still traumatic for him, he would not wake her. He had conquered a dangerous world, on his own, and he would do so again.

His eyes scanned the dark, and found the sweet familiar-the dream. If the warm things came to this world too, then he must have been brought here to protect them.

And, his instinct took over. It drove him from the angel’s side. As his feet hit the hard surface over which the angel slept folded softly against him, he quickly donned the odd skins that he had discarded, and set out in search of the warmth- of the one thing in this world that he understood.

He was old, very old. But somehow, even though this little ray of light was changed from what she had been, from what his dreams recalled to his mind, she was still so young and beautiful; and still his. In this world that was so strange and foreign to him, his heart was incredibly thankful that she was here.

He ran his fingers against the soft skin of his youngling’s cheek. She was so soft and warm, that he nearly sobbed. And, when the little one stirred, opened her eyes, and graced him with a smile, the awful tightness that had settled in his chest in all those years of loneliness broke and became tears of gratitude.

“Daddy,” she whispered, her voice was ragged with sleep, “please stay.”

It had been so long since he’d heard any sounds but his own, that the sounds this little bit of warmth made, he did not understand, and that frustrated him very much. But, he did not need sounds to understand her. He could feel the air around his child vibrating with fear, and although that vexed him, his heart was not discouraged, because he knew that, with time, he would understand again. He knew that he would grow to trust again.

He sighed, and nodded. Dutifully, he stretched out beside his little one as she lay on the ground of this little box with the bright bands on the wall, and held her until she stopped trembling.
****************************************************************

Buffy knew, as she drifted off to sleep with him beside her, that it would be a long and difficult road, for all of them.

So, when she awoke to find that Spike was not with her, she was not worried. She felt him near. Jonina was here, so chances were that, if Spike weren’t with her, he would probably be with Joni.

She was, after all, the only thing in the world right now, that he recognized and understood, unquestioningly. Even if he could not understand her words, as she spoke to him, he understood her, and that she was his.

Love could do that. That is what kept Buffy’s hope alive, in the week since Spike had miraculously returned from the Loterminenthalogcial dimension that Giles said was called X’yxerth. The place that Wolfram and Hart had “inadvertently” banished him, and their little baby Joni, to.

Love was what was now flowing through her veins. Love, in the form of a vaccine, that made her immune to a virus that could have been devastating to the Slayers, but was not, thanks, in no small part, to Spike’s efforts and his sacrifice.

It was love that kept her at his side, and sent Dawn all the way from Rome with her dose of the vaccine, because she refused to leave him alone while he was so fragile. Her love for him made her know that one day soon, she would be able to reach him.

She knew that one day, she would be able to touch him again.

It was this feeling of love that compelled her to put her robe across her shoulders, and pad her way slowly down the hall, to the room that, only days ago, was a nursery without a little girl.

But now, as she slowly opened the door to that nursery, she could feel that it was full to bursting with love.

She watched, and her heart swelled, as Spike held Joni close to him. She could hear a soft, contented purring coming from deep within him.

Spike sensed the disturbance in the air, caused by the open door, and looked up at her. Without thought, he growled a warning, and held Joni’s sleeping form closer to him.

Buffy smiled as she cautiously stepped into the room. Her eyes never left his, and her tone was soft and unthreatening, “It’s all right, Spike. I won’t hurt her. I understand,” she said, as she walked around to the right side of him, where the floor was bare, “Is it all right if I stay here, with you?” when she did not find him resisting her closeness, or her touch, she slowly lain down beside him, spooning against his back, and lacing her arm, loosely around his chest, as he held Joni next to him on his left, “I love you, Spike. And Joni. Thank you so much.”

As she fell asleep with him in her arms, she knew it would be a long road. But she also knew that, however long it took for him to get there, for him to meet her again, she would be there to catch him if he fell.





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