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Buffy stared at Spike and he stared back, as her sister babbled on about how pleased she was that he was awake. Not able to tear her eyes away, Buffy said,

“Dawn, why don’t you go and get him some blood.”

Dawn sprang up happily and clattered noisily up the stairs. “Won’t be long!”

Buffy was astonished that Dawn hadn’t seen what she’d seen. Spike’s appearance was totally different. It was if he had been pared down, his superficial shell gone and all that was left was what he’d been protecting, hiding from everyone. He looked frightened, shy and uncertain – as if one wrong word from her would be enough to shatter him into tiny pieces. That couldn’t be! This was Spike, the nasty, evil, untrustworthy vampire that she loathed. She found herself looking at him, as if she had never seen him before.

Swallowing hard, she moved towards the vampire, noting the tiny flinch that he couldn’t disguise. He’s scared of me, she suddenly thought with amazement – why would that be? It’s not as if she was the one who’d tortured him. The questions that had tormented her for the last three days seemed to be lodged in her throat. Instead a banal phrase came to her lips. “You feeling better?”

His eyes widened and he tried to raise his bandaged hand. When he was brought short by the chain, he at last looked away from her and down to his wrist, with a frown.

“Um, I – er, we didn’t know what you’d be like when you woke up.”

She saw his face harden, but he nodded as if he accepted their caution. His continuing silence unnerved her – this was the being who loved the sound of his own voice. The silence stretched unbearably.

She heard the sound of the door opening and her sister’s voice with relief.

“Sorry it took me so long, but I phoned mom and gave her the good news. She’s been really worried about you Spike.” She approached the vampire and grinned down at him. Buffy saw his face soften again, but this time he was looking at Dawn.

“Here, I warmed it in the microwave; I hope it’s all right.” She made to give it to him. When she saw that he couldn’t raise his hand, Dawn rounded on her sister and demanded that the chains be removed. “Come on Buffy, you can see that he won’t hurt me.”

Torn, Buffy battled inwardly against her Slayer senses that needed the vampire immobilized and made safe. She slowly put her hand in her pocket, withdrew the key and handed it to Dawn.

Even with his hands free, they found that he wasn’t strong enough to hold the mug. Buffy gently eased him up to a semi-sitting position and Dawn held the mug to his lips. He just sipped, where Buffy was expecting him to gulp, as if he were drinking just to please them. She saw a muscle in his jaw twitch as he gritted his teeth with the effort of swallowing. He stopped before the mug was half empty and turned his head away.

“Oh, that’s okay. Mom says eat “little and often” when we’ve been sick.” Dawn said brightly. “I’ll get some more for you in a couple more hours.”

“Thanks Bit.” His voice was soft and ragged, and it looked as if it caused him enormous effort just to breathe in enough to speak. Of course, Buffy thought, his ribs are broken; it’s much easier for him *not* to breathe.

“Come on Dawn, he needs more rest now.” Buffy said as she slowly lowered him back down. “We’ll check up on him later.”

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Spike watched them as they went up the stairs and relaxed for the first time since he had come back to awareness. When Buffy had asked if he felt okay, he was sure it was a feverish dream. When he’d tried to reach out to her, the chain preventing the movement brought him back to reality. Of course she didn’t really care about how he felt, she’d spent enough time showing and telling him of her disgust and revulsion countless times before. The vampire had been relieved when Dawn had broken the uneasy silence.

Then the Slayer had confused him anew when she’d handled him so gently, lifting him up so that he could feed. He’d taken a few sips of the revolting muck to keep Dawn happy, and it had taken all his self control not to throw it back up.

Something else occurred to Spike. Dawn said that Joyce was worried about him; the vampire felt a warm glow suffuse him at the thought. Summers women – yeah, gotta love ‘em.

Feeling better, he tried to make himself comfortable enough for sleep.


A couple of hours later, Joyce came home to find Dawn happily chatting on the phone and Buffy flicking through the TV programs without even looking at the screen.

She smiled at them as she hung up her coat. “So Spike woke up.”

“It was me you know.” Dawn said proudly, putting down the receiver. “I figured out that he was, like, in a coma – so I talked to him and he woke up!”

“Yeah, he probably came to – just to shut you up.” Buffy smirked.

Dawn poked her tongue out. “Huh! Left to you he’d probably ‘ve starved to death.”

This was too near what Buffy had been thinking herself. She had to admit to being worried that he would never wake up and she’d never know the answer to her questions. How had he fought the spell and why? Trying to take her mind off it, she stalked into the kitchen and rooted around in the refrigerator. “It’s about time he had another feed, I suppose.” Buffy said evenly. “The sooner he’s well, the sooner he can move out.”

Joyce and Dawn exchanged a look. “Why don’t I take it down, Buffy? You can start peeling the potatoes.” Joyce took the container of blood from her daughter’s hands and, ignoring Buffy’s objections, poured some into a mug and warmed it in the microwave.

“Uh, mom. I think I’d better go with you – for protection. Dawn can start on the dinner.” Buffy grinned at her sister’s open-mouthed, indignant expression.

“You left us with him when Glory was on the prowl, how come we need protecting now?” Dawn protested.

“Dawn honey, you did a real good job getting Spike to wake up. I promise you can take him some, um, food, before you go to bed.” Joyce smiled, while behind her mom’s back, Buffy rolled her eyes. They were competing now over who would feed the vampire – what the hell was happening here?

________________________

Buffy shook Spike until he opened his eyes. “Come on, here’s some more food for you.” She raised him as she had before and Joyce put the mug to his lips. He seemed bewildered for a moment and then sipped at the blood. He drank more this time, but still turned his head away before the cup was empty.

Looking up at the older woman he frowned. “You not well again Joyce?” His voice was not much more than a whisper.

Buffy gazed at him in surprise. “You know mom’s been ill. She’s better now.”

“Have you seen the doc lately?” He ignored the slayer and spoke directly to Joyce.

“No Spike, not for a few weeks.”

“Go and see ‘im – get yourself checked out.”

Holding up her hand to stop Buffy’s impatient reply, Joyce looked him in the eye and could only see sincerity in his gaze. “What do you see?” She asked quietly.

“Not so much see, as sense.” Spike paused to swallow the lump that seemed to be permanently present in his throat. “Vampire here, I know what a normal blood flow is like Joyce. Yours is blocked somewhere.” He gestured towards her head and then flopped back exhausted.

Mother and daughter stared at each other.



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TBC

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