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chapter 9

Spike jerked awake in full game face, all senses on alert ready to face whatever threat had woken him up. Just as quickly, his face smoothed out and he gave Buffy a dirty look. "Don't you know better than to wake a vamp up like that?" He gestured to the stake she held loosely in her hand.

Buffy snorted. "Please, you sleep like the dead. I've only been calling your name for like the last 5 minutes. Not my fault you wouldn't wake up."

"Yeah, well, I am dead. And it's my nighttime, supposed to be sleeping right now." He grumbled, running a hand through his unruly blonde hair.

"Well, I need to talk to you, ok?" Buffy informed him. Spike nodded his consent, and Buffy continued. "I'm leaving for school right now. My mom will be leaving soon, with Blake. She doesn't want you getting in her way, ok? She's kind of nervous being here alone with you without me here. Now I'm just going to ask you this one time. Does she have a reason to be?"

"I'm not going to hurt your mum."

Buffy searched his face, seeing the slightly offended look he was trying to hide from her, and nodded. "You better not. And you are not to try to see Blake this morning either."

Spike opened his mouth to interrupt her, but Buffy held up her hand to cut him off. "No Spike. We're doing this by my rules. Any contact you have with him will be with me right there, understand? "

Spike glared at her. "Wouldn't hurt my boy."

"And that's what I'm counting on Spike, and that's the only reason why you're being allowed to stay here today. But like I said, we're doing this my way. Ok?"

Spike knew by the steely and determined tone Buffy used that there was no sense arguing with her, even though the temptation was there. Slowly he nodded his head in acceptance. "Right. Won't get in your mum's way. When are you going to be home?"

"After four, or so. My mom is working until five. I'll pick up Blake on the way home."

"Right then." Spike found himself feeling awkward at this slightly domestic scene, something he wasn't used to feeling. He was the Big Bad, daily pleasantries weren't in his usual vocabulary. "Well, uh..have a good day."

Buffy gave him a strange look. "Uh, Ok, I will." Flipping her hair behind her shoulder, she headed back into the kitchen, leaving a confused vampire behind. He heard her say goodbye to her mum, telling her that she had talked to Spike, and he had promised to behave. Spike could hear the slight edge of fear in Joyce's voice when she responded, and he laid back down, finding himself oddly bothered by the fact that Buffy's mum was scared of him. The voice of the demon was growing more faint, bringing his more human emotions to the surface, where they hadn't been since he'd been turned. Annoying, but strangely comforting, and he was glad he and Buffy had come to their little truce last night. The constant war inside of him had eased a bit now, and he now knew why. Trust? No, they were right not to trust the demon, but Spike knew it was ok for them to trust William.

Spike heard Buffy leave, and the sound of Blake's sweet little voice babbling in the kitchen reached his ears, causing him to smile. Then he heard Joyce tell the boy it was time for her to get ready, and Spike pretended to be asleep when she passed through the room on her way to the stairs. He heard the swish of material and the padding of feet up the stairs, and allowed his eyes to open up slightly, looking after them longingly. He noticed the stake Joyce had gripped in her hand, and his respect for her grew. Good for her, not a stupid woman. And she was doing it to protect his son, even better. Blake waved at him from his place over her shoulder just as they reached the top of the stairs, and Spike was startled by the tears that sprang into his eyes at that sweet innocent gesture. At least one person didn't appear to be afraid of him, and Spike intended to keep it that way.

Rearranging the pillow so it was more comfortable, Spike allowed his eyes to drift closed once again and it wasn't long before he fell back into a deep dreamless sleep.

A loud crash jerked him awake this time. He jumped up and whipped his head around, all senses heightened and on direct alert. Nothing downstairs seemed to be amiss, then he heard his son whimpering upstairs. Moving from the kitchen, he went back through the room he had slept in, and crept softly up the stairs. "Joyce?" He called out, hoping to alert her he was on his way up the stairs. He didn't really think she'd do it, but he didn't fancy a stake through his heart so early in the morning.

But there was no response, and Spike's uneasiness grew. "Joyce?" He called again, louder this time. Suddenly a familiar smell hit him, and he froze. Blood, and it was fresh. Going to Joyce's door, he knocked loudly, calling "Joyce?" Spike could hear two heart beats in the room beyond the closed door, one that could only belong to his son, but it was the other that concerned him. It was rapid and somewhat thready, and Spike put his hand on the door knob, giving a growl of frustration when he realized he'd been locked out. Taking a step back, he wasted no time in kicking the door in, nearly splintering the thing from the frame in his haste. Stepping quickly inside the bright room, he was assaulted by the heady smell of blood, and lots of it. Shaking his head to clear it and push the surging demon back, he looked around, and found Joyce lying on the other side of the bed. His son was in some sort of enclosed contraption, and appeared to be staring intently at his grandmum, and Spike was able to assure himself quickly that he was alright.

He moved quickly to Joyce's side and assessed her injuries. She appeared to be unconscious, and from the awkward angle of her ankle, it was surely fractured. He ran practiced eyes over her form, noting a wide laceration to her forehead, causing a pooling of blood on the floor. There appeared to be multiple lacerations from the broken mirror that lay littered around her like sparkling diamonds. Her respirations seemed to be alright, and her heart beat was losing its thready quality and was beginning to beat with more conviction. Spike heard a hitch in her breath, as he pondered his next course of action and realized that Joyce was coming to. With a muffled groan of pain, she attempted to roll over from her prone position on the floor. Spike realized her worst injury was a laceration to the inside of her upper arm, it was bleeding profusely, and Spike suspected her brachial artery had been nicked. Grabbing a shirt he found on the bed, he crouched down next to her, and wrapped it tightly around her arm.

"Don't move, Joyce." Spike told her, his eyes taking note of the sharp pieces of glass that surrounded her body. He quickly picked her up, and laid her down on the bed, ignoring the hiss of pain that his actions caused. He then went in search of first aid supplies.

Joyce allowed her body to relax when she felt the soft bed beneath her, her body felt like it was on fire, everything hurt, and she could feel the blood dripping down from various cuts on her. So stupid. Blake had thrown one of his toys out of his play pen and she had tripped on it, falling head first into her mirror, then hitting the footboard of her bed. And now? She was at the total mercy of a vampire. 'Oh god, please let it be all right.' she thought, as the inky darkness pulled her back into its welcoming depths, and she went into it willingly.

When Spike reentered the room, he realized that Joyce was unconscious again. Well, that was fine with him, he knew what he had to do next wasn't going to feel too good, better that she be out cold for it. Putting his supplies down next to her, he looked over at Blake and saw the concerned look on his face. Now he knew what Buffy was talking about when she said that sometimes he seemed years older, there seemed to be an uncanny intelligence burning deep inside the boy, and Spike felt pride well up in him that he had had a hand in this. Blake suddenly looked at Spike and surprised him by saying "Help gwanma, dada."

Spike nodded at him, and told him he would. Blake just turned those intense blue eyes back to his grandmother, and Spike set about getting the bleeding stopped. The shirt he had tied around her arm was now saturated, and Spike ripped it off and put a pressure dressing in its place, hoping that it would do the trick. This was new to him, trying to keep blood inside of a body, rather than take it out, but he was a vamp on a mission, and he had no intentions of failing. He thought briefly of dialing that 911 thing, but then dismissed it. Too many questions involved, and most likely of the stake now, ask later variety. He could tell by her heart beat that she wasn't in mortal danger anymore, now that he'd gotten the bleeding controlled on her nicked artery. It didn't even cross his mind the lack of temptation to take a taste of what was pouring so freely, his intent was in getting the bleeding under control, and that was it.

He worked quickly and efficiently, removing glass and bandaging lacerations. Some would need sutures, and she would eventually need a hospital, but she was ok for now. Spike hadn't even realized she was awake until he smelled the very strong odor of fear coming from her. He looked up at her to find she had a look of sheer terror on her face.

"What?" He asked, tearing a piece of tape and placing it over a bandage.

In a whispered voice, Joyce replied, "Your...face.."

That was when Spike realized he was in game face, and he looked over at Blake to see his reaction to it. But the toddler just had the same intense look on his face he had had before, and Spike was relieved by that. Looking back at Joyce, he mumbled, "Sorry" and changed back into his human face. "You ok?"

"Are you going to kill me?"

Spike snorted. "No, Joyce, not going to kill you. I don't usually bother to bandage up those that I'm planning on killin', y'no?"

Joyce painfully looked down and saw the various bandages on her arms, and the huge bulky pressure dressing on her inner arm. "You did this?"

"Yeah, well, the little tyke's a bit too young for this type of stuff, so it was kinda up to me, y'no? No one else here." Spike placed a bandage over the laceration on her forehead and taped it in place. "Was waiting til you woke up to see what you wanted to do. Most of these are going to need stitches, especially the one on your arm. And I think your ankle is busted. You're going to need a trip to the hospital. I think you knocked yourself on the head pretty good too."

"I, uh.." Joyce attempted to finish her sentence, but the darkness had pulled her back, unwillingly this time. Sinking back into the dark abyss, her eyes closed and her head slumped to one side. Spike sighed. 'Well, guess it's that 911 deal after all. Not much more I can do for you.'

Fifteen minutes later, Joyce had been strapped onto a gurney and loaded into the back of an ambulance, and Spike watched it pull away. Looking at the boy in his arms, he said to him "Come on, let's go call Giles and let him know what's going on."

"Unker Giles!" Blake commented, causing Spike to roll his eyes. "Yeah, Unker Giles, all right." Blake had watched in quiet fascination as the EMS crew had worked over his grandmum, starting an IV, asking Spike questions. He had called "Dada" in the middle of it, with his arms raised, indicating he wanted to be free from the enclosed prison he had been in, and Spike happily complied. Especially when Blake had thrown his arms around his neck and hugged him. Hurt him? They thought he would hurt him? He would stake himself before he'd allow this boy to be harmed, and surprisingly, even his demon seemed to be in agreement there. This boy was HIS.

Finding the number for the library on the frilly little corkboard thing next to the phone, Spike dialed the number. "Sunnydale Library"

"Rupes, it's Spike. Got me a bit of a situation here."

"What did you do?" The cultured british voice was had gone from cordial to coldly lethal in seconds flat.

"Didn't do a thing, you git. Joyce had a bit of an accident though, the ambulance just left here. Just thought you'd like to know."

"And you want me to believe that you had nothing to do with it?"

"Believe what you want, Watcher. But I didn't."

"Where's Blake?"

"He's right here." Giles heard Blake in the background chanting happily "dada, dada" and it made his blood boil.

"Spike, you listen to me. Either Buffy or myself will be right over. And you and the boy had better be there when we get there, do you understand?"

Anger tried to take control of Spike's good sense as he snapped, "Yes, I bloody understand Watcher. it's daylight out, in case you hadn't noticed. Wasn't planning on going anywhere. One request I DO have, you will bloody well talk to Joyce before passing any judgment on me about this, do YOU understand? "

"I'll think about it. But if one hair on that boy's head is harmed, you will be praying for a quick stake through the heart when I'm done with you." Giles threatened.

"This is my SON, Rupert." Spike growled. "Nothing will happen to him as long as I'm around, got it?"

"We'll see."

"Now go get Buffy and tell her that her mum is in the hospital, will you? She lost a bit of blood, and I think her ankle is busted." With that parting comment, Spike slammed the phone down, trying to calm his anger down. Really, had he expected any different? And did he deserve any different, he forced himself to ask. The answer was no to both questions.

He scooped Blake back up and buried his face into the sweet smelling hair and breathed deeply. That alone was enough to soothe the anger and frustration brewing inside of him, and he pulled his head back slightly to smile down at his son. "So, what do you want to do now?"

"Watch TV."

Chuckling slightly, Spike headed into the living room and pretended to throw a giggling boy onto his makeshift bed. Sitting down next to him, he grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels until Blake informed him which show he wanted to watch. Not content to just sit next to him, Blake climbed into Spike's lap and sprawled, burrowing the back of his head into Spike's chest.

Fifteen minutes later, the front door flew open and Buffy ran in, wild eyed and frantic, her Watcher following behind. Spike scoffed at the stake evident in his hand, and just turned his attention back to the tv.

"Momma!" Blake called happily, but did not get up from his comfortable position in Spike's lap, much to the vampire's delight.

Buffy stopped and looked at the curiously domestic scene on the couch. Spike had apparently even retrieved some snacks for Blake, and her son appeared to be in absolutely no danger. She looked back at Giles, and raised her eyebrow.

"How come you're not at the hospital?" Spike asked, but figured he already knew the answer.

"Giles thought we should stop by here first, said it sounded suspicious." Buffy replied, looking from her Watcher to Spike, and back again.

"yeah, figured as much."

"Blake, sweetie, are you ok?" Buffy asked, going over to the couch and sitting next to Spike and her son. Blake looked at her and nodded, eyes wide and serious, as he replied "Gwanma hurt."

"I know sweetie, we're going to go see her right now." She leaned over and ruffled his hair, inadvertently pressing the side of her breast against Spike's arm. He almost hissed at the sensation, and turned his attention to the tv again to get his mind of how nice it felt to be touched by her again.

"We'll take him with us." Giles announced.

Spike glanced up sharply and threw the Watcher a dirty look, then looked back at Buffy. "I can watch him."

Buffy looked torn, and looked up at Giles who had a suspicious look on his face. "Oh for god's sakes, Watcher. Go take a look at the room, I had to kick in the bloody door to even get to her."

Buffy took a deep breath, and cast her eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry. I think we're going to take him with us." She risked a look at Spike's face and saw the tightly held set of his jaw, and his rigid posture and couldn't help the stab of guilt that went through her. At that moment, she realized her fear of him had dissipated, and was reassured by that feeling. "Spike, look at me."

She realized that the eyes that he turned in her direction weren't tinged with anger, but with hurt. "Spike, I'm sorry, ok? I just need to talk to my mom. Remember, I'm still working on that trust thing."

Spike's eyes softened a bit, and he grabbed her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Go. Your mum needs you. I'll just catch up on some sleep here. Could you...uh... maybe call me later and let me know how she is?"

"Yeah, I can do that." Buffy agreed, pulling her hand away. She grabbed Blake off of Spike, surprised when he put up a bit of a fuss about leaving his "dada" . Spike gave him a kiss on the forehead and told him to go with his mum, and Buffy and Giles left the house. Suddenly, the dense quietness of the house was overwhelming, and Spike felt a sense of loneliness like no other. Well, this wasn't good, he thought to himself, and flicked the TV on loudly to surround himself with noise.

tbc...
Lots of reviews will make me update this fic a LOT quicker!! *hint hint*





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