Chapter One: Haunting

“Buffy shame on you... Why does a man do what he mustn't? For her. To be hers. To be the kind of man who would nev-... To be a kind of man.” He starts walking towards the large cross on the stage in front of them. “And she shall look on him with forgiveness. And everybody will forgive and love. And he will love.” As he reaches the cross his voice dropping a little lower like a distant whisper making it unclear to either of them if his words are really meant for him or for her or anyone at all as he lays his arms over the arms of the cross his cheek turned to rest against his right arm. The sound sizzling sound of his flesh burning heard beneath his next words while steam rises around him and tears spill unseen down his burning cheek. “So everything's okay, right? Can we rest now? Buffy?” He pauses after he utters her name as a faint pleading question. “Can we rest?”

The scene in front of her seems to play on repeated several times in her mind before her brain truly registers that it's actually happening, it's not some dream or a mirage. He's real. She shakes her head, the band of chocolate brown rubber holding her hair back from her face falls and lands unnoticed on the dusty floor of the abandoned chapel as she walks quickly towards him. “Spike…” She breathes his name without really thinking through why she's doing this or what her plan is. She stops behind him using grabbing him by his forearms and pulling him off of the cross more easily than she had anticipated. He seems to almost collapse against her, the shock of which causes them both to tumble down the two steps from the cross and land on the dust covered floor.

When Spike realizes he's no longer burning and clinging to the cross but in fact half lying on Buffy on the ground he scrambles onto his hands and knees skittering away from her, his ramblings renewed. “No! Can't touch! No! Stop! Make it stop!”

Of course not a single word of it made a bit of sense to her as she moves swiftly to her feet to close the small gap of distance between them. She kneels down beside where he now lays in the shadows, his body pulled into the fetal position and shaking against his silent sobs. She can still smell the burnt flesh, her nose wrinkling from the smell even as she tries to push it to the back of her mind before pulling his head into her lap.

Some how hearing his words, the confession and admission of what he'd done for her, it snapped something inside of her and turned everything around and inside out. For now she doesn't give it a second thought, she just rakes her fingers through his brown rooted platinum tresses freeing them of the shell of gel that was holding them in place. “Shh... You can rest Spike, but not here... This isn't the place for you.” When his sobs have ebbed for the time being she tries again to force his attention to her instead of some unseen being that he seemed to mutter to despite her closeness. “Let's get you out of here okay? I think Clem's still crypt sitting for you. Let's go there, okay?” She slides out from under his head standing to her feet but in the same moment she's pulling him to his with her hands under his arms. When he tries to pull from her she simply tightens her hold on him.

Twenty minutes later she's managed to get him back to the crypt downstairs and into his bed, Clem leaving the minute they'd come in without asking any questions for the time being. She rummages through his place until she finds some cloth and ointment that can be used to clean and bandage his self inflicted burns, while he has exceptional healing he'd done quite a number on himself in holding onto the cross for so long before she 'woke up'. Once she's gathered everything she needs she leans over him setting to work to carefully clean his burns, occasionally shushing him or blowing against his skin when it hurt most.

By the time she's finished he's worn himself out to the point he can barely keep his eyes open let alone continue to rant and ramble about things that made no sense to her but seemed to burn him in a sense, all over again. It's now that his eyes, though half lidded, really seem to look at her without the glaze of obvious insanity frosting their never ending blue depths. “Buffy?” He utters her name like a question before licking his lips to wet them and asking, “Really you luv?”

“Yeah Spike...” She's not really sure what to say, how to explain why she's even here. So for the time being she just lets her lips pull into a slight smile and sits down beside where he lays on the bed. She reaches out, hesitating for only a moment, before she starts running her fingers through his hair slowly, her nails grazing against his scalp as she pulls his curls free of the gel shell that encases them. “We'll talk later okay? You need to sleep right now.”

The moment she utters the word 'sleep' he pushes himself to a half seated position which dislodges her hand from his hair as he shakes his head wildly, his blue eyes wide with fear and his body beginning to shake slightly. “No! Can't sleep! Don't want to see. Hear. No!” He tries to scramble to the other side of the bed and off but doesn't get a chance to move more than an inch before her strong hands yank him back in place, moving instinctively to his shoulders to gently but firmly place him against the mattress.

She climbs on top of him, carefully straddling his hips as she looks down at him with a serious and firm expression. “Spike, listen to me. Are you listening?” She pauses, waiting until he slowly nods his head, something about the action and his wide eyes tugging at her heart strings in a way she’d never anticipated. “You need to sleep, to heal. You're safe here; this is your home Spike.”

“No!” He moves quickly enough he's able to toss her off of him onto his bed before scrambling from it and cowering in a shadowed corner of the room muttering to himself before she has a chance to recover.

She can feel the muscles in her jaw clenching for a moment before she's able to force herself to calm down and move from the bad over to him again. She grabs his hands as they try and literally pull his hair out from the roots, her fingers sliding against his palms once his fingers are forced open. “Spike, look at me.” She keeps her voice cool at collected the first time, but when he tries again to pull away, lost in the depths of whatever is going on in his head, she tightens her grip on his hands. “Spike!” She screams his name to pull his attention to her, thankfully that it finally works; she didn't want to have to resort to hitting him this time. “Listen to me, okay?” When he nods this time she arches a brow waiting for him to say something.

His chest rises and falls rapidly with the panting breaths he doesn't need even need passing through him. His eyes are wide and staring into hers, the color finally registering in his brain, her eyes like olives with the green/brown hue of them and the blueish gray ring around the outside. The visions that haunted him of her had her green eyes but the real thing is so much brighter, so vibrant, especially when she's this irritated with him. “I'm listening.”

“Good.” She relaxes her hold on his hands but doesn't let them go as she goes on, “I want you to tell me the truth Spike... You haven't been feeding or sleeping, have you? Where did you guy? Why did you...” She shakes her head stopping herself from the onslaught of questions that would do nothing now except push him back into his insane ramblings.

“Can't sleep.” His head shakes several times before he steadies to look at her again. “Been bleeding rats. Vermin, like me.” He shifts uncomfortably on the ground in front of her, trapped in the corner by her but his eyes briefly look past her seeing something only he can see and his head shakes wildly again. He closes his eyes trying to pull his hands out of his grasp, trying so hard to shut out the duplicate that only he can see.

She sighs, her grip on his hands tightening as she stands. She pulls him to his feet with her and pulls him over to the bed again. When he tries to dislodge himself from her grasp again she simply tightens it and yanks him towards her without thinking about it, the action causes them to both fall over onto the bed. This time to keep him from skittering away again she wraps her arms around him using her slayer strength to prevent him from pulling away until his struggling stops. She knows it has to hurt with his burns and all, but he hadn't given her much choice. “Calm down, it's okay. Look, just lay here, okay? Talk to me, stop muttering to yourself and talk to me.”

“About?” His gaze shifting to her suddenly, skeptically as he pulls from her again but just curls in on himself on one side of the bed careful not to touch her. The images of what he'd tried to do to her flashing inside of his head with the words whispered to him from her unseen twin.

“Let's start simple, why won't you sleep?”

“Can't.” He stares into her peculiar eyes and for a moment he can see her the way she was after she rescued him from Glory, when she'd pretended to be the bot and confessed his reasons for not telling the evil bitch about Dawn. In this moment she looked like that girl and not the one who would in an instant kick his ass into the ground for reminding her that she's loved.

“Okay... Why or how do you have a soul now?”

His brow arches slightly during this moment of sanity. He's having a hell of a time remaining sane and she asks about his bleedin' soul? “Why do you think I did it Slayer?”

“Did you think getting a soul would change something between us? That I'd swoon like I did at fifteen with Angel?”

He scoffs rolling onto his back, his eyes still open and staring up at the ceiling as he tries to find the words so that his reasons make sense to her. He enjoys this moment of mental clarity, hoping it'll last him through her oncoming whirlwind of questions he knows she's got brewing inside of her noggin. “This hasn't got a bloody thing to do with Captain Forehead. So just leave him out of this conversation.” He pauses long enough to turn his head and glance in her direction to make sure his warning, though unsaid, got through to her. Once he's sure it has he goes on with his reasoning, “This has nothing to do with being with you... At least...” He raises a hand covering his face with it for a moment as he sighs deeply, when he lowers his hand again letting it rest on the mattress between them he tries again. “I wanted to give you what you deserve. I can't be near you without it; I know that, I figured that out. With you and your lot burnin' it into my noggin I finally got the hint. No matter how much good I do, how many times I help you save the world it doesn't mean anything without a soul, at least not to you.” He sighs again slowly sitting up with his arms lazily resting on his legs and his head hanging as he stares at his hands. “But I thought at least with my soul I could help and you wouldn't constantly figure it was just about the soddin' chip all of the time. I mean I know it's not enough for me to deserve you, I get that.”

She stares at him for a long time in total silence trying to process everything before she ventures to ask, “How did you do it? Is it...” She pauses again trying to figure out how to phrase the question without bringing Angel into it only to have her thoughts interrupted by his voice.

“It was a reward of sorts. I went all the way to Africa pet looking for this, or well I guess what I said was what you deserved. So I guess this makes sense, I mean I can't be of any use to you if the soddin' git had made me human or something now could I? I mean you're the Slayer so a human is honestly less than you deserve, which is why Captain Cardboard was a waste of your bleedin' time.” He lifts his head then to eye her for a moment noticing the little bit of a smile she tries to hide at his words before clearing his throat and moving on. “So I've got my soul but I'm still me I reckon. I mean I haven't really checked for any other alterations, but let me tell you getting it hurt a hell of a lot. To even be worthy of what I'd asked I had to endure trials, gotta say though they were still a bit easier than dealing with the hell hoe. But that's the story there Slayer, happy?”

“It's... wow, that's a lot to digest...” She climbs off of the bed standing beside it as she pulls a cell phone out of her pocket. “I need to go upstairs for a minute and call Dawn and check in.” When he nods she climbs back upstairs to leave him in his thoughts.

She closes herself off once she's upstairs and then quietly heads outside of the crypt hoping it was enough to prevent his vampire hearing from catching wind of the conversation between herself and Dawn. She flips open her phone and dials her sister's number before switching it to speaker phone so she could pace more easily. “Hey Dawn is everything okay?”

“Yeah, where are you? Xander said you went off to chase some worm demon?” Dawn's voice asks as it comes through the phone only mildly distorted.

“If Xander calls make something up for me okay? Say I'm asleep or something.”

“Where are you? Are you coming home soon?”

“I don't think I'll be home tonight. I'm...” She pauses glancing towards the door of the crypt hoping she hadn't underestimated Spike's hearing. “I'm at Spike's. Look before you say anything I know what he tried to do and we both agree it was wrong, but...” She sighs, “He was a soulless demon Dawn and I provoked him. The things I...” She shakes her head her feet picking up their pace as she paces back and forth in front of the door of his crypt. “I'm part to blame. I mean normally when a man does that or tries... It's not her fault, not when you're dealing with humans Dawnie, but you have to believe me. This is different. But he's in bad shape and he has a soul... I'll explain later but I need to look after him Dawn so he doesn't do anything too stupid. Whatever is coming, we'll need him strong and we'll need his help.”

Dawn's silent for a moment letting Buffy's words slowly register in her mind. She still isn't sure she can really see nearly being raped as a woman's fault, demon involvement or not, but at the same time this was Spike! Spike had been her big brother, her safe haven for longer than anyone but them really knew and part of her couldn't just forget that. She knew how much he loved Buffy and she was slowly learning about the things her sister had done that hurt him more deeply than he'd ever admit and in fact blamed himself for it. Finally she finds her voice again, sucking in a deep breath to make her voice firm, sort of like Willow's resolve face but in a vocal form. “Bring him here.”

“What?”

“I said, bring him here. Look you can look after him better here anyway and I can help. Plus this way of Xander calls looking for you he doesn't have to know we're helping Spike. You know what you told me won't pacify him for even like a nano second, right? Do you need me to help you get him here or is he good to walk?”

“He can walk.” She stops in front of the door to the crypt leaning against the cold stone with one palm against it as she lowers her voice. “We'll see you soon, and thanks.” She hangs up the phone with a soft but audible snap as the plastic slaps against itself.

Chapter Two: Not So Idle Threats
Getting him back to the house had proven to be difficult but no where near the challenge that getting him to sleep had proven to be. It was nearly sunrise before he finally passed out on her bed though, after hours of ramblings and mood swings. She stands in her dark and empty kitchen with a cup of coffee in between her hands. Her mind keeps going over the previous night and his mood swings, one minute he'd be the Spike she was used to; confident to the point of arrogance. The next minute he was almost like dealing with a child, as he cowered in the corner of her room with his knees hugged to his chest and rocked himself back and forth.

She shakes her head as she carries her cup of coffee into the living room and sitting down on the sofa, she pulls the afghan from the back laying it over her lap. She stares out into the fading night through the slight gap between each side of the curtains that would only allow a sliver of light to come through when the sun finally showed himself. She'd been careful, before she'd gone to get her coffee she'd shut every curtain Spike could possibly come into contact with to protect his irritating ass from become a pile of dust on her floor.

She had become so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't even realize Spike entered the room until she felt the movement on the sofa beside her as he sat down on the opposite end, the sliver of golden light becoming a tangible line he can't cross between the two of them. He's the first to speak. “So where's Red and Glinda?”

She doesn't look at him as she asks quietly, “What makes you think they aren't just upstairs sleeping? It's a bit early for anyone to be awake you know.”

He chuckles softly, “Vampire, pet, remember? Their scent's not strong enough for either of them to be here.”

“Well you're right, they aren't here. Willow's due back in a few days though...” Her voice fades as she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. That very thing is something they're all nervous about, but at the same time she's more than looking forward to having her best friend home.

“Where are they?” His brows knit together in confusion, something was off and he knows it, he can hear it in her voice.

“There's been some changes during your disappearance, Spike...” Slowly she pulls her gaze from the window to look at him.

“Care to fill me in?”

“Well in the interest of time I'll give you the short version.” She sighs softly as his silence gives her the space to continue without interruption. “I'm sure you remember the leader of the nerd trio; Warren, right?” When he nods in silent response she goes on. “Well he got mad that I put a stop to his idiocy one too many times so he showed up here at the house with a gun, fired off a few rounds and managed to actually hit his mark with one; me. A stray bullet went through their bedroom window though, Tara was killed instantly...”

“I'm sorry, pet... I liked Glinda, a lot... She was one of the best of your lot.”

“She was. But I can't even imagine what it was like for Wil.” She pauses tilting her head in thought for a moment, she doesn't say it but in the back of her mind she thinks but maybe you can. “Her pain and her determination made sure that I didn't join Tara though, but she went after Warren for revenge and lost it after that. I'll leave the details of that mess out though but by the end of things Dawn and I found ourselves in a hole in the ground being attacked by the dead re-animated after Xander abandoned us to save the world.” She chuckles slightly seeing the wide eyed bewildered expression on his pale features. “She tried to end the world and with his love he saved her and saved us all. So now she's in England learning how to get a hold of her powers and get well. Dawn and I have been working on getting closer over the summer with our almost empty house, and now she attends the same high school that spent three years trying to kill me, but then again I work there now too.”

He's silent for a minute or two as he stares into her olive green eyes, his ocean colored eyes taking in every detail of her features as they have a million times, his voice seems almost sad when he finally finds his voice again. “I'm glad she saved your life, Buffy. If you ever repeat what I'm about to say to any of your friends I'll deny it and I swear I'll find a way to silence the entire lot for good and all; but I'll be grateful to them both until I'm dust that they preserved your life.”

The intensity of his voice and the words he'd spoke stuns her into silence so she's grateful when her sister breaks into the conversation all together by entering the room. Her arms are folded over her chest in true stubborn teenage irritation as she smiles a little too sweetly towards her older sister. “I'm done in the shower if you want to take yours so we're ready when Xan gets here. Don't want to be late for work do you?”

Buffy arches a brow slightly observing Dawn's stance as she stands to her feet leaving the blanket on the sofa where she'd been sitting. “Is it safe to leave you two alone or do I need to separate you two first?”

Dawn rolls her eyes, almost identically to the way Buffy had done at the same age. “I promise to behave.” To Dawn's surprise her sister just nods to both and heads up the stairs, her exhaustion showing only slightly.

She turns towards Spike, her gaze threatening to burn him to ash, her hand moves so fast he doesn't even realize she's slapped him until the sound echoes in the silence and his cheek burns in the aftermath. She doesn't give him a chance to respond before she's speaking, her voice like ice dripping venom. “If you ever hurt her again I'll stake you myself, or set fire to you as you sleep. Also, if you ever leave like that again I'll hunt you down and do the same, are we clear?”
“Bloody hell, Niblet!” His stunned exclamation was a combined reaction to the slap and her words. “I won't make the mistake twice, I swear to you. I'm sorrier than you could ever understand for what I did... tried to do.”

“Was she really as bad to you as she said?” Dawn had, over the summer, gotten Buffy to confess to a great deal of the treatment Spike had received from her. Buffy had been trying, in a sideways manner, to defend his actions but at the same time say they were wrong and try and instill the lesson that Dawn should never allow a man to force himself on her.

He waits until Dawn's sitting down in Buffy's recently abandoned place to answer her, his gaze peering down at his calloused hands in his lap as he tried to find the words. He stumbles over himself no matter how hard he's obviously trying not to. “Dawn, your sis... She... Oh bloody hell!” He sighs, his hand rubbing over his face before he looks up at her frowning deeply, “She was hurting, Niblet. She's got the weight of the world and then some on her shoulders, pet, and dusting my kind helps but it isn't enough because it's part of the problem.”

She tilts her head to the side when realization hits, in her mind she could see him clear as day when he'd been a beaten bloody mess and he had told her... Well she couldn't quite remember his cover story, she's realizing only now that's all it was; now she knows it was her sister that had beaten him near to death. Sure they'd beaten each other time and again in the past, but that had been different. When she'd seen him he looked like one of those battered boyfriends or husbands you'd find in a shelter running from the abuse they were suffering. But he didn't run, did he? No, he came back for more time and again. She shakes her had, “You may be a demon, Spike, but I've learned that nothing is black and white. Just because you're a vampire and she's The Slayer doesn't mean what she did was right or justifiable. You love her.” It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact. Swiftly she changes the subject not wanting to see him try and react to her statement, or get caught here by Xander. While she could forgive his moment of demonic weakness as it seemed her sister could also, Xander is another story entirely and would love a chance or even excuse to dust him. “Look, Xander is going to be here soon so get to hiding. We've got to get to the school anyway.”

“Something's wrong at that bleedin' school, I don't like you two being there unprotected. Look, tell your sis I'll be there if anything happens. I'm going to sneak on out of here now and get back to my place for a spot to eat then I'll take the sewers and be in the basement for the duration you two are occupying the campus, let her know if there's any trouble to find me there. Okay?”

“You know she's going to storm down there the first chance she gets and rip you a new one, right?”

“Might be right, Niblet, but if it gives me a chance to help keep you two birds safe I'll take the risk of her wrath.” He stands nodding towards her a moment before slipping out of the room without a sound, using the afghan from the sofa to protect himself from the sun's deadly rays as he makes a run for it to his crypt only five minutes before Buffy finished getting ready and Xander arrived to take the Summers' girls to the high school.

Chapter Three: Welcome Home, Red

It's been a week since she'd taken him back to the Summers’ house and for some reason that no one in the house could explain, he hadn't gone home since. Well that's not entirely true, he'd gone back to his crypt long enough to pick up a good supply of blood from his fridge and bring it back with him. He'd done this only at her insistence. She'd even made a special place in the fridge for it so that it wouldn't be in plain site to visitors who didn't know he was hanging around even more than usual. Dawn was of course overjoyed that he was there waiting for them when Xander dropped them off after school, finally excited about doing her homework. They all knew this was completely due to the fact Spike helped her with it now.

They'd quickly settled into a little routine that comforted all parties, his brief lack of judgment prior to the summer almost forgotten. His time spent mostly with Dawn the minute they arrived home from school, then teaching Buffy how to cook proper meals for herself and Dawn, after sundown he patrolled with Buffy before collapsing on the roll away bed that had been put in Buffy's room. He didn't always end up sleeping on it, it often served more as a prop for Dawn's sake than anything. But once they were in her room for the night they spent their time talking, not just chit-chat, but in depth discussions until she absolutely had to pass out for a couple of hours before getting up and going to work at the high school.

Buffy had even purchased a cell phone for him so that he didn't feel the need to spend all of his time in the school basement during school hours; she told herself she did it simply for fear of his insanity returning full force if he continued that particular activity. In truth she had no earthly idea why she'd done it, why she felt the need to have the three of them more instantly connected to one another.

That was something she'd noticed too though, that since he'd come home with her his lapses in sanity had lessened almost to the point of non-existence. It added to why she'd talked him into hanging around. His presence also made the house seem less lonely and gave her strength in a way she hadn't been aware she'd needed. But today things might end up changing and she's not sure what she's going to do. Today Willow is due to arrive home. She'd gotten the call from Giles the night before to inform her that Willow, while she hadn't completed everything, was ready to come home. In truth, she was needed for whatever was coming.

Dawn had chosen to stay home with Spike, lying to Xander when he'd asked about a test the following day to keep his suspicion at bay. Buffy in her own way was glad she'd stayed home, unsure as she is about Willow's home coming and how she'd look when she walked through the doors. Xander looking like a total dork with his big sign written in yellow crayon to welcome her home. She shakes her head softly; glad she was able to convince him that white paper was a bad choice for yellow crayon, black of course being the better choice.

As soon as the last person has exited the doors of the plane's runway they both look at each other in confusion as they've still seen no sign of her. “Did she pass us by? Do you think she panicked and bailed in London?” Xander asks in concern.

“I don't think so; Giles would have called if she flaked in London I think. But what if she skipped off wherever she landed for her layover?” She wrinkles her brow in concentration trying to remember what city the layover had been in. “I'll call Giles after you drop me off and find out where her layover was and see if they can tell me if she made it onto this flight.”
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What neither knew was in that very moment their red-headed friend was standing just to their left. Just as blind to her as they were, so she was to them. She turns in circles calling names, her lower lip trembling with the echoing thought that her friends had not forgiven her and did not want her home. She sucks in a deep breath to settle her hysterics for the time, going down to luggage to retrieve her bag before climbing into a cab to the house on Revello Drive.

She walks into the house calling out fearfully, “Buffy? Dawnie? Anyone?” Nothing, not a single sound in response to her words as she trudges up the stairs and into her room. She shuts the door behind herself gently before crossing the short distance to her bed, their bed, and flopping face down onto it allowing her silent sobs to claim her.

It's almost one in the morning before she hears the front door close with an audible thud, pulling her out of her misery. She sits up on the edge of the bed listening for other sounds of life, her brow crinkling as she thinks she hears a male voice downstairs. It takes her only a moment to realize the voice belongs to Spike, but when she hears a once sided conversation she decides walking downstairs to a possible insane vampire, chip or no chip, was not in her best interest. Besides, she isn't sure she can handle finding out why he's allowed here after everything, when her friends couldn't even be bothered to pick her up from the airport after what she'd done.

He'd smelled something different in the air of the house the moment they'd stumbled in laughing nearly to tears from their evening of patrol, but he'd dismissed it quickly when he realized the scent was familiar. The both motion for the other to be quiet so as not to waking the sleeping bit upstairs. He loved moments like this, where her guard was completely gone and she'd laugh like she hadn't a care in the world. These sorts of moments came so rarely and ironically usually instigated by things that go bump in the night.

She knew she should be heading upstairs and calling it a night seeing as she did have one more day of work, tomorrow only being Friday after all, but she just couldn't quite bring herself to end the night for some reason. Things between her and Spike were strange to say the least. She looks up at him, briefly chewing on her bottom lip before asking, “Want to watch a movie or something before we officially call it a night?”

“Sure, luv, you pick something out while I go on up and check on Niblet, yea?” He says in a soft whisper so as not to risk waking the slumbering teen upstairs. As soon as Buffy turns to the DVD case he heads upstairs going to Dawn's door and silently cracking it open enough to check and make sure she was sound asleep in her bed and covered enough. Once he's certain she's tucked in right proper for the night he closes her door again, without a sound, and heads back towards the stairs. The sound of a second heart upstairs, that familiar scent getting stronger, his brow furrows as he approaches the witches' bedroom door. He's not too sure if he should still be considering it the property of both witches, with Glinda gone and all, but it was still a bit newer to him. He pauses outside the door, his sensitive hearing picking up the sound of extremely soft sobs.

He pushes the door open without a sound and steps into the room, his bright blue eyes widening at the sight of Red curled up in a ball on the bed sobbing herself to sleep. “Red?” His voice is only loud enough that she'd hear him, leaving his Slayer downstairs in the dark still of his whereabouts just now.

Willow sits up at the sound of his voice, her hands rubbing the tears from her eyes quickly. “Spike? What are you doing here?”

“Sort of staying here. What are you doing here though? Why weren't you at the airport when your flight came in?”

“I was! But... no one came for me.” She lowers her head, sniffling as she tries to keep herself from falling into sobs again.

“What? Slayer and the whelp were waitin' forever for you today. They said they watched every person come off the plane and no sign of you. They worried you'd decided to run off in whatever city your layover was in. They even had a black sign written in yellow crayon welcomin' you home.”

“Black sign?” She frowns wondering if her dark days were now just a source of humor for her friends.

“Well, yeah, Buffy convinced him black would work better than white with the yellow crayon and all, more readable you know?”

“They were really there? They really did want me to come home?”

“Really did, honest. Why don't you come on down and watch some telly with us, yeah? Then tomorrow go on over and see the whelp.”

“I...” She doesn't get a to finish protesting as he grabs her hand pulling her from the bed and dragging her downstairs.

“Slayer, looky what I found upstairs when I went to check on the bit.” He smirks as they reach the bottom of the stairs only to find Buffy staring at him like he'd grown an extra head and a tail. “What?”

“What are you holding behind you?” Buffy asks in confusion.

He releases Willow's hand instantly before shrugging, “Just draggin' Red here out of her pity party upstairs. Easier to keep her from scurrying away if I had a hold of her hand is all, nothing meant by it.”

“Spike? There's no one there?”

His brow furrows in confusion as he turns to look behind him only to see Willow standing behind him with a perplexed expression on her face. “Who are you talking to, Spike?” Willow questioning him this time.

He shakes his head rapidly, “Bloody hell...” He butters under his breath as he looks back and forth between both girls. “I see you both, I... No but see you're both real... Red's never been dead... and... and I felt you...” His gaze pulling back to Buffy with the last of his words, his face contorted in agony as he sinks to the bottom step beneath his feet his head falling into his hands.

Neither girl has a clue what the hell is going on with him but both some how kneel beside him, warm fingers against his skin trying to pull him from the insanity begging to over take him again. But some how that triggers the mental clarity he needs. He looks between the two asking Buffy first, “You see only me right now?” When she nods he turns his head to look at Willow next, “And you see only me?” Willow nods in response as well and he shakes his head. “Right, well I can feel both your hands so I know you aren't figments. Look maybe it's best if we all call it a night, yea? Slayer, you go on up and I'll be there in a minute.”

As soon as Buffy leaves Spike turns his attention onto Willow with a serious expression. “Now do you think there's a chance you accidentally did some hocus pocus without meaning to? Like something that might have just effected Summers and Harris?”

“I don't... well I mean I guess it's possible... But I didn't do anything on purpose I swear!”

“I didn't say you had, Red. Look let's get you upstairs and tomorrow after Niblet and Buffy go off to the high school we'll go have a chat with demon girl, see if she can be of any use yea?”

“Okay, thanks, Spike.” She smiles slightly before ascending the stairs up to her room.

Spike pauses a moment, shutting off everything downstairs as a distraction before finally climbing the stairs and walking silently into Buffy's room. His voice is a whisper as he calls out, “Summers?” To see if she's still awake, without the risk of disturbing her if she fell asleep.

“Spike, will you talk to me?” Buffy says quietly as she sits up in bed, patting the empty space beside her knowing with his enhanced vision he can see it.

He crosses the distance between them, sitting down beside her hesitantly. “What's on your mind, pet?”

“Why was that talk about figments? What figments?”
“Caught that hm?” He sighs softly letting his back slump against the wall behind them, his head lulling back with a soft thud. “Remember when I was a bit off my rocker in the basement and the chapel?”

“I remember.” She reaches up to run her fingers through his gel caked hair to free his platinum curls as she waits for him to continue.

“I was seeing things, luv, well I still do sometimes actually. People I've hurt, or killed, or died because of my existence.” The last part was barely loud enough for her to catch, part of him hoped she'd missed it.

“But you said you could touch me so you knew I wasn't a figment this time? Was I one of them when you were under the school then?”

“You were my most frequent one when I first came back here, pet. Things you'd say... You... Well what was said was the truth.” He frowns, but he can't stop himself from leaning his head into her gently touch. It kept him sane most nights, tonight though it was making it hard to keep from crumbling completely into a soddin' puddle.

“What did the figment me say to you?” She keeps her voice so gently, almost like a warm breath against his ear than a whisper.

“Reminding me of the things I've done, what I am, or was... How many times I've failed you and the bit... Beneath you...”

She frowns deeply at this, she knows the mantra they'd both been hearing lately, from beneath you, it devours. But she also remembered her harsh words to him last year. She curls her hand against his cheek before sliding it up underneath his chin to pull his face towards her own, when he protests she says softly but stern, “Spike, look at me, please?”

“They're right, Slayer. You know it, I know it. Even if it wasn't truly you down there, the words were still right.”

She turns her hand slightly so she can keep it under his chin but press her thumb against his lips to silence him. “Spike, I had no right to talk to you like that. No one does. You've done a lot wrong in your century plus of being around, there's no denying that. But you've done a lot of good too. You did it by choice; you didn't kill me when you could have even after the chip. I know I didn't see it then but the chip isn't the only reason you stopped trying to kill people. You could have had minions do it for you, we both know that, but you didn't. Instead you fought beside me, didn't you? And you looked after Dawn no matter what, even after I'd gone. You're my equal Spike, you need to know that and you need to remember it. If these figments start haunting you, come to me. Okay?”

“I... I don't want to burden you, Slayer...” He can't pull his face from her grasp but he turns his gaze down to his hands within his lap just the same, trying with everything inside of him not to let the tears burning behind his eyes to fall. To be named her equal by her own admission was something he'd never even hoped to hear. It wasn't the same as having her love him like he loves her, but it was a far cry from being beneath her too.

“Things have always been complicated between us, I know it and so do you, but I think some where along the way even before this summer, we became friends. I didn't want to see it, I denied it and for that I'm deeply sorry. But mistakes on either part aside, we are friends. Friends are there for each other when things get hard right? So it's not a burden, it's part of the package. I'm not just going to lie here any more and let you suffer alone. Don't think I don't hear you whimpering in your sleep, Spike. I'm sorry I haven't done right by you up until now, I truly am. But tonight everything changes, it'll get better.”

He chokes back the sob that he can feel burning him from the inside out as he tries to pull from her, tries again to yank himself to the floor to curl into a ball on the floor. Only before he can, despite his inhuman speed, her arms have wrapped around him pulling his body against hers despite any weak protest he provides. It's only minutes, though for him it feels like hours, before he crumbles against her warm body. He lets his face become buried in the side of her neck, amongst her golden tresses that smell like sunshine to him as the sobs over take him.
“Let it go, Spi-” She stops herself for a moment, turning her head to do something to him he's done to her countless times; she kisses the his neck where it meets his shoulder before letting her fingers run through his matted curls as she tries again to offer consoling words in a whisper of warm breath on his skin. “Let it out, William... Just let it all go... I've got you.”

Neither of them knows if this is what it's like for any vampire who's soul has been returned to them, or if it's something more. It could easily be whatever is coming for them all, or both. But for tonight neither cares, she just knows this is what she wants to do. She wants to give him back the strength he'd been for her when she'd first come back from heaven.

It takes a moment for his mind to wrap around the name she's uttered and when he does he lifts his head from the safe confines of her neck and hair, exposing the glistening tears on his cheek to her as he stares at her. His face full of pain and confusion, he'd not heard his given name uttered with such compassion in... Well ever actually. “Buffy?” His voice is questioning, his eyes begging for answers his mind can't process the questions to.

She reaches up to wipe the tears from his face though her human eyes can barely see them clearly. She smiles gently knowing he can see it. “Let's lay down, okay?” She slides down on the mattress pulling him down with her, against her. His cold body against her warm one as she pulls his head against her chest, lying on their sides as she wraps one arm over his waist, the other under his shoulders curled in such a way she can run her fingers through his hair still and hold him in place.

Chapter Four: Behind Blue Eyes

No one knows what it’s like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes

LONDON (1880)- VICTORIAN PARLOR- NIGHT

William is sitting and composing poetry off in the corner of a dinner party. The spirited laughter of the party-goers can be heard in the background. William's hair is long unruly curls and he's dressed as a proper gentleman, complete with tie and reading spectacles. He's awkward and bookish- none of the confident swagger we're used to. He mumbles to himself, “Luminous... oh, no, no, no. Irradiant's better.”

A servant approaches and holds out a tray asking, “Care for an hors d'oeuvre, sir?”

“Oh, quickly! I'm the very spirit of vexation. What's another word for "gleaming"? It's a perfectly perfect word as many words go but the bother is nothing rhymes, you see.”

The servant smiles patronizingly and moves off into the crowd. William's eyes are drawn to Cecily, a young woman just entering the party that he is absolutely infatuated with. He whispers her name, “Cecily...” He then turns back to his poem with renewed purpose and jots down several more lines, then gets up and moves through the crowd toward her.

A group of young aristocrats, a woman and her two male companions, are gathered discussing current events.

The woman says in a slight snooty tone as most of the aristocrats of the party tend to, “I mean to point out that it's something of a mystery and the police should keep an open mind.”

One of the men turns to William as he passes by,”Ah, William! Favor us with your opinion. What do you make of this rash of disappearances sweeping through our town? Animals or thieves?”

William answers in a haughty tone, “I prefer not to think of such dark, ugly business at all. That's what the police are for.” He glances towards Cecily, “I prefer placing my energies into creating things of beauty.

The second man snatches the poem from William's hands. “I see. Well, don't withhold, William.”

The woman adds, “Rescue us from a dreary topic.”

William responds nervously, “Careful. The inks are still wet. Please, it's not finished.”

The second man says, “Don't be shy.” He then starts to read, "My heart expands/'tis grown a bulge in it/inspired by your beauty, effulgent." He pauses laughing before repeating, “Effulgent?”

Everyone laughs, mocking William. Uncomfortable, Cecily glances at him and walks off. William shoots the second man a sour look, snatches back his poem, and follows her.

The first man laughs pointing out, “And that's actually one of his better compositions.”

The woman adds, “Have you heard? They call him William the Bloody because of his bloody awful poetry!”

Before William is fully out of earshot the second man states, “It suits him. I'd rather have a railroad spike through my head than listen to that awful stuff!”

William approaches Cecily, who is sitting on a sofa, away from the main party, and looking out the window, he says softly, “Cecily?”

She turns and sighs when she sees him, “Oh. Leave me alone.”

He nods his head towards the others saying, “Oh, they're vulgarians. They're not like you and I.”

“You and I? I'm going to ask you a very personal question and I demand an honest answer. Do you understand?” When he nods she continues, “Your poetry, it's... they're... not written about me, are they?”

Nervously he answers vaguely, “They're about how I feel.”

“Yes, but are they about me?”

“Every syllable.”

“Oh, God!” She says, appalled by his admission.

“Oh, I know... it's sudden and... please, if they're no good, they're only words but... the feeling behind them... I love you, Cecily.”

“Please stop!”


“I know I'm a bad poet but I'm a good man and all I ask is that... that you try to see me-”

She interrupts him to say, “I do see you. That's the problem. You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me.”She stands and walks off, leaving William devastated and alone.

LONDON STREET- NIGHT

William staggers down the street in tears, ripping up his poems as he goes. He bumps into a passerby and drops the pages. His voice dripping the pain he feels, ”Watch where you're going!” He gathers up the torn sheets and makes his way toward a nearby alleyway.

William is sitting on a bale of hay and finishing the job of destroying his poetry. He looks up at the sound of a woman's voice to find Drusilla standing serenely in the dark alley with him.

She says in that hauntingly sweet voice of hers, “And I wonder... what possible catastrophe came crashing down from heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears?”

“Nothing. I wish to be alone.”

“Oh, I see you. A man surrounded by fools who cannot see his strength, his vision, his glory. That and burning baby fish swimming all around your head.”

William backs away from her, nervously. ”That's quite close enough. I've heard tales of London pickpockets. You'll not be getting my purse, I tell you.”

“Don't need a purse.” She points to his heart and head in succession before adding, “Your wealth lies here... and here. In the spirit and... imagination. You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine.”

William is intrigued by her insight into his character. ”Oh, yes! I mean, no. I mean... mother's expecting me.”

She opens the collar of his shirt. ”I see what you want. Something glowing and glistening. Something... effulgent.”

William is beside himself, finally someone who understands him, or so he thinks. “Effulgent.”

“Do you want it?” Drusilla asks.

“Oh, yes!” He touches her chest before saying again,”God, yes.”

Drusilla looks down for a moment as her face changes and her fangs descend. William reacts more confused than afraid. She pulls back his shirt collar and buries her fangs in his neck, his bright blue eyes closing the moment they do, but not before catching a brief glimpse of the slayer in the distance behind Dru. William cries out in pain but his cries quickly turn to moans of pleasure as Drusilla ends his human existence. Then in the distance, like a harsh echo, Buffy's voice repeats Cecily's words, “You're beneath me...”

Simultaneously Buffy and Spike wake with a start, sitting bolt upright in their respective beds. Spike can feel the tears spilling untouched down his cheeks in the pitch black of the guest room he's in. He reaches up with shaking hands to brush them away with the heel of his palms before curling in on himself on the mattress. Cecily's words still cut him to the core almost as much as they had that night, now almost two centuries later. The bit that hurt the most was hearing the slayer's honeyed voice repeating them. He'd cried the first night she'd told him that after telling her what she needed to know, how to keep herself from dying young like the rest of her line, but in all the times he'd relived that night in his sleep, this is the first time he'd ever heard her voice tormenting him more.

Just down the hall from him Buffy climbs silently out of her bed, in her light gray thin sweat pants and white spaghetti strapped top, quietly walking down the hall to the guest room he'd moved into. Her hand pauses on the door knob before she turns it silently, pushing the door open and bathing the room in the dim glow of the hall light and casting her shadow clear to where he's curled on his bed in the fetal position. “Spike?” She calls to him softly.

He sniffles trying to curb his quiet sobs at the shattering he feels his heart is doing over and over again, like a broken record, the moment he hears her enter the room. He sits up quickly facing in her direction, “Slayer?” As much as he tries to disguise it, the heart break is evident in his voice, the utter devastation. “What are you doin' in here?”

She closes the distance between them, leaving the door slightly ajar to offer her human vision a bit of aid in seeing him as she sits down on the edge of the bed. She fidgets nervously with her hands for a moment before really looking at him only to find evidence of what she'd feared the fresh tear tracks against alabaster cheeks. “Something's not right, Spike...”

He flinches, pulling back from her touch as his eyes grow a wide. “You were really there? Just now? Red do some sort of hocus pocus again?” Anger creeping into his bruised chords towards the end.

She shakes her head, “I don't think so... I think this might have to do with getting your soul, or... well I'm not sure what else but it has to do with you for sure, not anything she could have done.”

“What in the bloody hell would make you think that?”

“Not the first time I've made a cameo appearance in a souled vampire's dreams, Spike. Or in yours for that matter. Just the first time you saw me too, and that we were in the same place.”

“What else have you seen, Slayer?” He scoots back against the headboard of the bed pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them as he watches her, but not allowing himself to find comfort in her presence now. The dreams prior to the biggest that she even made it into, and the voices, have all left him feeling utterly unworthy of her comfort or concern.

“Bits of your human life, before Drusilla. Why is that what you dream of now? I mean when... Well it just seems odd as far as guilt goes to relive your mortal days with your mom.”

He laughs, the sound dark and broken as it passes from his lips and he lowers his chin to rest on his knees, his blue gaze looking past her now. “I guess you haven't been privy yet to how it ends for her and I have you? Would make sense seeing as I don't remember reliving it since I went and got this soul of mine back...” He pauses, his brow wrinkling in thought when he catches onto something she'd nearly said. “You wandered about in Angel's dreams, pet?”

“Only right after he came back from hell... He'd gotten his soul back in him just before I used him to close Acathla, you'd already left with Dru by then. But he felt guilty for being back after all he'd done when he'd become Angelus again...” Her own death and just the roller coaster of the last few years robbing her for now of the real reason for the dream sharing the two had done. “So what happened with your mom then? Did you kill her like Angel did his parents or something?”

He shakes his head rapidly but not trusting his own voice as he nestles his face into his folded arms now to hide from her concerned olive colored eyes. He sniffles again and silently curses himself for being such a bleedin' ponce and blubbering like a child in front of the girl. He knows he's beneath her, but it doesn't stop him from loving her in a way he'd never loved any other woman in his life or unlife. He flinches when he feels her weight causing the mattress beneath him to shift as she crawls closer to him. He can feel the warmth emanating from her body the closer she gets to him. He stiffens even further as he feels her fingers start working their way through his gel free curls.

“Spike?” But that only caused him to tense further, a frown painting itself upon the soft curve of her lips. She slides her hand down to his shoulder gripping it slightly as she tries to pull his attention towards her and get him to lift his head. “Look at me, please, William?” His human name whispered so softly only his enhanced hearing would catch it.

The shock of the gentle use of his given name forces him to lift his head and look at her, the pain and confusion evident on her face. She'd done this another night, the night Red had come home and he'd told her of the figments he'd been tormented by since the school basement. But as she uttered it this time there was something different, she's searching for something and he knows it. “Buffy, please... don't do this.” His voice is soft and pleading.

“Don't do what? Care? Bit late for that don't you think? I'm sorry I ever said that to you, you know that, we've been over this... Why are you believing a dream over what I'm telling you right now in front of you?” With his head free of his arms she reaches out and touches his cheek with her fingertips.

“Bit hard to think you've really changed your tune about me luv, even while stayin' here under your roof. But you saw what I went through, and you know our history as well as I do... I mean I know a soul changes all the rules for you, pet, but it's not the same for me...”

“You think that's all this is about? You being gone made me face things, made me see what was really there. I don't really think there's a difference between you now and you before you went off and got your soul back. Except maybe the insanity part... But I don't know for sure if that's the soul or what's coming for us all. Or both... I'm sorry for how I treated you; I know you don't believe me... But what you're going through... the pain you’re in actually breaks my heart too...” The last of her words almost too soft even for him to hear.

“I don't want your pity, Slayer...”

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath, she knows she's going to regret this but she does it just the same. She lifts her hand and promptly thumps the back of his head with the heel of her palm. “I don't pity you, idiot. But I do care that you're hurting. I know it's a hard concept for you to grasp but, try!”

He looks at her utterly dumbfounded by the definition of her actions but he knows her well enough to read her expression and the sincerity it holds. “Do you really want to know what happened with my mum then?”

“If you want to tell me and it'll help you, yes.”

He nods slowly before sliding out of the bed and walking towards the window. He pulls back the black out curtain to stare out into the black night, the moon casting an eerie glow over his too pale skin. His voice is distant and thoughtful as he retells the story. “She was a wonderful lady, my mum, loved me with all of her despite the pathetic excuse for a man I was. She'd listen to my pathetic ramblings day in and day out and act as though they were masterful. But she was ill, something that in my time wasn't curable as it is now...”

As his voice drifts off for a moment as he sniffles a bit and takes an unneeded breath to steady his emotions she climbs off of the bed and closes the distance between them. She places a hand on the center of his bare back, his skin almost like ice in contrast to her warmth even to her. “It's okay.” She urges him on gently, her voice barely even a whisper as she offers faint comfort with the simple touch, for now not pushing it any further.

“Consumption... Tuberculosis is what you'd call it now; it was destroying her from the inside out a little more every day. But like a good son I took care of her, loved her, and did everything she asked of me. Well, with the exception of finding a proper lady I suppose. She didn't want me to be alone, was her greatest fear I wager...” He sighs, finally relaxing a bit into her touch as he feels her fingers move softly up and down along his spine with every syllable. He takes in an unneeded but habitual breath before going on, recounting his last memories of his mother. “I went back to her after Dru sired me... I wanted to save her, you know? At the time I hadn't really grasped what had happened to me, what it means to sire someone and bring them into the darkness. So I turned her, but when she woke she wasn't the same woman she'd been. She wasn't my mum any more; she was just a monster in her lovely shell...”

“But...”

As if he can read her mind he turns to face her, “But how is it I retained enough of myself to even want to save her like that? To mourn that when she awoke into this life she was no longer the woman who had given birth to me? I don't know, pet... I mourned what she became enough to put her out of her misery too. I staked her not long after she awoke and showed me what she really was...” He leans his back against the window, sitting down on the sill hanging his head. “I over heard Angelus and Darla talking about me a few times, saying how Dru had done something wrong when she made me. Not so much that she made a poor choice, though that was implied too, but that she'd literally done something wrong because I'd retained too much humanity. That was really what lit a fire under me, so to speak, to prove to them I was as corrupt and evil as they were. That's actually what drove me to pick the fight with him, the night he told me of your line luv. It's also what first gave me the desire to hunt your line down and take them out. After all, it was one thing even Angelus feared.” He can feel the tears renew themselves as they steal pathways down his pale moonlit cheeks.

This time he doesn't flinch as she kneels in front of him, her warm thumbs brushing away the tears almost as quick as they fall before her hand gives up and curl against both of his cheeks. “You truly are one of a kind aren't you? I think they might have been right about one thing... I think something went wrong when Drusilla sired you, but while I guess from that side it's a bad thing... I don't think it was. If she hadn't messed up you'd be as bad as Angelus, maybe worse... Her mistake is why you didn't abandon her in Prague isn't it?” When he nods, finally letting his blue eyes meet her gaze she goes on. “You really love us, even before you ran off to earn your soul.” Her words a statement rather than a question, she can see the answer in his eyes, whether she wants to or not. She could also hear it in the story he'd just told her, and the dreams she herself has witnessed lately. Reality just seems to finally be sinking in, what's been in front of her this entire time.

“More than you'll ever know, pet...”

Chapter Five: Revelations

The Summers residence seems odd all closed off, with all the curtains drawn closed to allow Spike the freedom to move around the house while Buffy and Dawn are at the school. Willow's home of course, working through her fears of being home and dealing with the fact Spike has sort of taken up residence in the house. She's not entirely sure what she thinks of it, but she's decided she doesn't have a whole lot of room to point out all of his mistakes when she's made ones that in her mind are even bigger than his and she was forgiven pretty instantly.

Willow is sitting down on the sofa in the living room watching some chick movie on Lifetime but not really paying it any mind. Her mind is actually on the overly blond vampire who seems to be actually hiding upstairs in the guest room, which she supposes is actually his now if any of them can admit it. She's been watching the interaction between Buffy and Spike since she's been home and even she can see a difference between them. It's been near impossible to keep the secret from Xander, especially for her but she understands Buffy's desire to tell him herself when she has a better grasp of why she's even allowing it.

She shifts her position leaning forward and staring at the TV across from her but not really seeing it as something registers in her head. She cares about him... She thinks, realizing that's the whole reason Buffy's been so hell bent on not allowing him to go back and stay in his own crypt. She heard them the first night she was home, only bits and pieces of course, but enough to know that the almighty vampire slayer had been in fact comforting a vampire that night. She had been comforting a vampire that wasn't Angel. Of course in thinking back on the years with Angel Buffy had done a lot of things with Angel but comforting wasn't really one of them.

She pushes herself up from the couch heading towards the stairs to go and have a talk with the big bad himself only to be stopped as the sound of the phone crying out in the kitchen. She rolls her eyes and changes her course, rounding the corner into the kitchen she picks up the receiver in one fluid motion putting it to her ear only to hear two male voices already involved in conversation. Her eyes widen slightly as she recognizes the voice not belonging to Spike is Angel's. She quietly sets the receiver back in its place before walking back into the living room to her movie to give him time to finish the call before going up to see him.

She's not even been back on the sofa for five minutes when Spike comes tearing downstairs with his usual wool blanket for hiding from the sunlight heading straight for the front door. She's up instantly reaching the front door just as his hand reaches the knob. “Where is it you think you're going?”

“Away,” He answers her without meeting her gaze, his voice thick with the emotions he's trying so desperately to hide even from himself.

“You realize if you do that she's going to kick both our asses’ right?”

“She'll get over it, Red. The Poof is right; I was a fool to let her talk me into being here.”

“What exactly did he say to you?”

“Bit contradictory really, that I've no right to be here but I should let her help me with those whole bloody insanity bit from... well I don't know what, I kind of hung up on him at that point... Says I'm a danger to the lot of you being in the house.” He hangs his head letting his forehead rest against the front door.

“Right, because Angel's safe as kittens right? He's more of a danger to us than you even on a good day. No offense, you're big and bad and all but you're different. Look, I was coming up to talk to you when he called anyway, so come sit down with me and hear me out. If after you hear what I have to say and you talk to Buffy you still want to leave I'll stand behind your decision, k?” She looks up at him as cutely as possible, a bit of her high school innocence showing through.

“All right, Red, let's hear it then.” He follows her to the living room flopping down into the recliner to the side of the sofa.

“Right so um...” She fidgets with her hands nervously in her lap. “I've been sitting here doing some thinking. I've realized what I think Tara...” She pauses closing her eyes for a brief moment at the pain that her heart still fills with when she mentions her lover's name. “Saw before any of us. You're different, and this has nothing to do with the soul. Though I mean that alone proves how unique you are.”

“Pfft! Peaches has one too you know...”

“Yes, but, he was cursed with his. He killed Miss Calendar when she tried to give it back to him again too. But you, you went searching for yours. I remembered something Tara once told me.” She swallows again, her eyes barely catching the confused expression on Spike's features even as he leans forward to touch her knee in comfort at the pain he can see in her face every time she says the name. “Thanks... Um... anyway... After you helped us stop her dad from taking her, proving she was as human as me. She told me she didn't think you were like other vampires. She'd noticed something in your aura that was different than other vampires she'd encountered. The others were black, coal black and harsh, but yours was gray. There's a light behind yours that others don't have. It's like part of your soul had stayed with you when you were turned. It's why you could love in a way Angelus and Darla couldn't. You've never been hell bent on destroying the world either, you helped Buffy stop it and you weren't even in love with her at the time!”

“Funny thing there, Red, I think I was even then I just didn't know it yet. That's when it all started to go further down hill between Dru and me. I think I sort of get what you're trying to say, and I appreciate it. But I don't want to make things harder for her... She's had enough troubles she doesn't need me mucking things up. For that matter neither do you.”

“What are you mucking up for me by being here?”

“The whelp is going to be just as hard on you about me being here as he is on her when he finds out. From his point of view he figures you should have talked 'sense' into her about it by now.” He turns his head in the direction of the door, standing and starting towards the kitchen. “Speaking of, I'm going out the back. He's here... I knew Angel would call him next...”

She stands quickly grabbing the sleeve of his coat and shaking her head. “Just go upstairs, please. If not for my sake do it for Dawn and for Buffy okay? Go stay in my room until I give you the all clear. Even if he gets past me to go up and look for you he won't think to look there. Be careful because I don't remember if the curtains are closed though.” As soon as he nods and rushes up the stairs she goes to the front door, opening just in time for Xander to come stomping through.

“Where is he!?” Xander demands, his face contorted in anger and betrayal.

“Where's who?” She tries to play innocent, even as she watches Dawn and Buffy come in soon after him.

“He knows, Wil. Angel called him apparently after calling here?” She looks at her best friend questioningly as she nods for Dawn to go to her room and let the grown ups talk, which of course results in a storming teen.

“He did, and he is. But... Look...” She turns her attention from Buffy to Xander. “Xander, sit down; listen to what Buffy and I both have to say. After all our word should be more important than anyone's right?”

“Fine. But, if I still feel the same I reserve the right to march up there and stake his peroxided ass.” He huffs before marching over to the chair Spike had just been occupying and flopping down into it folding his arms childishly across his chest. He knows he's not going to win this but the teenage part of him that still has Buffy on a pedestal has him protesting as much as possible.

As the girls start to plead their case with Xander on Spike's behalf Dawn opens her closet door with a smirk to find a disobedient vampire hiding behind her clothes, “Something wrong with Wil's room?”

“A lot if I don't want to be a pile of dust on her floor, Niblet,” He pushes himself from the depths of her closet walking over to the edge of her bed and taking a seat. “So I guess they're down there pleading my case on deaf ears yea?”

“Don't know how deaf he is. I mean Willow had her Resolve Face and you know how scary Buffy can be when she's determined. Were you really going to leave again?”

“Not leave for good or anything Bit, just back to my crypt was all.” He'd no sooner finished the sentence and the back of his head was throbbing as she hit him with all her might, which was a lot more than when he'd left. “Bloody hell! What was that for?”

“Are you trying to make her as loony as you? Are you seriously that stupid? She would have gone through the roof if you'd gone off like that in the state you're in. I know you both think I'm too young to understand anything still, but I do actually see a lot of what goes on between you two. I see more than she does, and I think Willow does too. Isn't this what you wanted? For her to do something other than beat you to a pulp and run when emotions got involved? Didn't you want to matter to her?”

“It's more complicated than that Bit...”

“No it really isn't. You make it complicated. She's finally seeing the gray in the way the world works and now after fighting for that for so long you're ready to run. Don't you know the safest place for any of us, including you, is right here? Something's coming. I know everyone thinks I'm just a kid and I don't know what's going on. Even after everything this summer she still has trouble seeing it, but I'm not blind. I can see something's coming, and I know she's been having dreams again.”

“That's more to do with me than what's coming...”

“No, only some of them have to do with you. Something big enough is coming that she's having dreams again, Spike, dreams that terrify her.” Her expression said what her words did not. It took a lot to terrify Buffy Summers that was no secret. So the fact that what was coming was enough to terrify her even if she wouldn't admit it, Dawn could see realization spreading into his features and she flops onto her bed with a satisfied expression. “Good to see you're opening your eyes finally. So what did good ol' Peaches say to you anyway?”

“Like I told Red... Said it wasn't safe for all of you if I stayed in the house, which I'm sure, is why he rated us all out to the boy wonder... But. that I should be letting Buffy help me through this whole soul having bit. He also said there's more to the dreams than we know though. The ones she keeps making appearances in that is. He just won't tell me what the bleedin' hell he means by that and I'm assuming he hasn't told her either. But he might have.”

“How did he even know about all this?”

“Your big sis called him from work because she didn't know if she was doing all she could for me in this. Wanted to know what more she could do about the dreams to ease me throughout his or something like that. Again he was a bit cryptic with the whole mess.“ He glances towards the door of Dawn's room as he hears the silencing of voices below and the sounds of multiple footsteps in their direction. “Seems the verdict is in, Niblet...” He frowns looking in her direction for just a moment before a stoic expression takes over when the door opens.

Xander is the first one to come through the door with his arms crossed over his chest stubbornly. He sighs though before he begins, “I don't like this, and I don't particularly like you Spike. But the girls made several valid points. So here's the deal; I'm agreeing to give you a chance to prove yourself to be what all three of these girls seem to think of you. But I swear if you step even one millimeter out of line I'll find a way to stake your ass before you have a chance to see it coming. Are we clear? I'm only doing this for them.”

“End of the day they have us both by our stones eh?” Spike lets the tiniest of smirks play over his lips as he stands offering a hand to the carpenter. He could easily fall into his usual smart ass responses, pretend at being the big bad, but he needed to make this moment different and give his Slayer something to believe in beyond the soul he'd worked for. “I won't step out of line mate. Not lookin' to piss off either of these scary birds any more than you are yea?“ He looks in turn to the three girls gathered around them and asks, “Mind giving us just a minute alone? Let us talk man to man yea?” He can see the hesitation in all of their faces but one by one they nod and leave the room and shutting the door behind them, though he knows they're on the other side listening.

“What's this about, Spike?” Xander's hesitation is more than obvious.

“I need, for their sake, for you to promise if something happens and I become a danger to them and none of us see it that you'll rectify the situation. We may not like each other in the least, but I do respect how you care for them as I hope you'll learn to do with me. Angel didn't give me much but a bunch of his cryptic garbage, you know how he is. But I love her too much to leave against her will, I'd like to think I could do it if it was for their safety but I'm not sure I'm strong enough for that any more because of the chance it could be worse for her if I disobey. So I am counting on you to make sure what's in their best interest is kept top priority yea?”

“Oh you can bet on it, Blondie.” He stops though, Willow's words making more sense to him as he stares at the vampire in front of him, seeing him with new eyes. “You actually do love her, don't you?”

“With everything I am.”

“Hm. Fine, for the moment I'll leave well enough alone... but I swear...”

Spike holds up a hand with a shake of his head. “I get it. I'll be staked good and proper; it's what I want too, so forget the speech.”

“Fine!” He huffs turning on his heel and storming out of the room, and out of the house without a word to any of the girls for the time being. He needs time to himself, to think over the way his world has literally been turned upside down and inside out, again!