Author's Chapter Notes:
Wow guys, thank you so much for all the reviews! I'm so glad to see you still enjoy this story. And I worried that maybe you wouldn't like the fact Faith was the main character in the last chapter, but all your reviews made me feel better about that and made me think I made the right decision. Thanks again, and keep reviewing.
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CHAPTER 49: Don't kill the messenger

Spike walked through the cafeteria, ignoring the stares and snickers of the other inmates. He’d only been in the infirmary for four days, but it was enough to remind him of how much he really hated being around the other inmates. Apparently, he was well enough to leave. Since they hadn’t received any more orders about him from the warden, they’d decided he could go back to his cell. Anya said she’d need to see him a few more times to check how his wound was healing and he needed to stay out of trouble, but otherwise, he was fine. Too bad. He would definitely miss having nurse Anya bringing him half decent food in bed. Maybe he could get stabbed again... Right. No. He’d promised Buffy to be careful from now on. Meaning no more breakfast in bed. Bleeding hell.

He looked around and, not seeing Gunn anywhere, made his way to a table in the far corner. He put his tray down on the table and before he could sit, a high pitched voice caught his attention.

The two hobbits were walking in his direction. At first, he thought about picking up his tray and moving to the other end of the room, but then what Andrew said made him pause.

“So, I finally found out what happened to the warden...” Andrew told Jonathan with an air of self-importance.

“It’s the third time you’ve said that and then said you’ll tell me later. Will you just tell me already!” Jonathan whined, clearly annoyed with his friend.

“Relax. I’m telling you now.” The taller geek rolled his eyes.

They were now almost next to Spike and he could hear every word clearly. They obviously hadn‘t noticed him standing there, so he decided to listen in on the conversation they were having.

“Apparently, the poor woman lost her baby. Isn‘t that sad?”

“No way! That totally sucks. Who told you that?”

Before Andrew could figure out what was happening to him, Spike had his hand clutched tightly around his throat and held him against the wall, his feet not touching the ground. Andrew desperately attempted to pry the stronger man's hands from his throat but the attempt was futile. The look on Spike's face was positively terrifying. Jonathan ran as far from harm‘s way as he could, of course.

"What the BLEEDING HELL do you mean?" Spike hissed in Andrew‘s face.

"Nothing..." Andrew croaked pitifully.

"People don't go around flapping their gums about things like that and mean 'nothing'. You explain yourself now if you like your head attached to the rest of your body. Understand?"

Andrew was looking around in hopes of finding help, wondering why the guards hadn't noticed yet, but no one was paying attention. He fleetingly thought of how tragic it was that such a drama was happening in plain sight and people were oblivious to it. Something Shakespeare could have easily been inspired by if he’d still been alive...

Spike shook him back to reality, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through his torso. “WHERE did you hear that rubbish? Will you answer or do I have to snap your head off?”

Andrew grunted weakly.

“What are you saying, geek? I didn’t quite get that.”

Andrew pointed at the hand constricting his airway. In his rage, Spike had squeezed a little harder than he should have if he wanted the wanker to talk. He released some of the pressure, but kept his hand around Andrew’s throat in case the little man decided to try something.

“That hurt you big bully!” Andrew whimpered, trying his best to glare at Spike.

“Don’t make up stories about the warden, and people won’t go ‘round crushing your windpipe. Should have bloody well thought about this before running your mouth.”

“I didn’t make up stories! I was just repeating what I heard.” Andrew managed to look offended by the accusation despite the fact that he was walking a dangerous line. But he still had the presence of mind to lower his voice before concluding: “The warden had a miscarriage. That‘s all I know and I didn‘t make that up, I swear.”

Spike paled and gritted his teeth in barely suppressed rage and fear. “And where the fuck did you hear that?”

The little blonde geek got all animated with excitement. “Well, I was walking into the library when I overheard a guard who was talking to another guard. Apparently, this guys, Julian, is friends with the cafeteria lady, you know, Mrs. Metzger?”

Only one look at Spike told Andrew that he better not wait for an answer. “Anyway, he said that Mrs. Metzger heard it from Joseph who is one of the prison employees parking attendants. Not that I knew that since I‘ve never actually parked a car here, but that’s what the guard said.”

“Andrew...” Spike almost growled in warning.

“I HAVE a point here! If you’ll just let me get to it. Geez! So that guy, Joseph, said he was working one afternoon a few days ago when he saw Ms. Summers walking to her car. She never made it. She passed out right there in the parking lot. He said Faith was there and she was really freaked out. He said Ms. Summers was sent to the hospital because she miscarried. That’s why she’s been MIA for a few days now. I don‘t know why you‘re so pissed, but don‘t be mad at me, be mad at the person who actually started the rumor. You know what they say about killing the messenger... Don‘t.”

Spike let go of the other man completely, his arm falling limply to his side, suddenly numb. That’s the moment the guards chose to interfere.

Two guards grabbed him and pulled him away from where Andrew was still standing.

“Come on, Rayne.” One of the guards said. “Get off the poor guy. Can’t you see he’s not interested.” The guard chuckled.

“Yeah, Rayne--no means no!” The other guard said in a falsetto voice, taunting the prisoner.

In what could have been a reenactment of a scene that happened almost a year ago--the day of his arrest--Spike let the guards take him away without the slightest reaction. Until their supervisor stopped them. Rupert Giles was standing in their way, and did not look happy. He was frowning while taking in Spike’s appearance.

“Where are you taking him?”

“Isolation, sir.”

"Don't you know he got injured only a few days ago?"

The two guards gave each other similar puzzled looks before one of them shrugged and answered. "So?"

"If you'd paid more attention, you'd notice he obviously reopened his wound.” Giles looked pointedly at Spike’s shirt where a blood stain could be seen. “Putting him in isolation wouldn't be the brightest choice."

"But he attacked another prisoner, sir."

Giles' stern look settled on Spike. "Again I say, not the brightest thing to do. What possessed you, I haven't got a clue." He turned to the guards. "Leave it. I will take him to his cell myself. Dear lord, you two are useless and have no common sense whatsoever."

Afraid of the repercussions for arguing with their boss, the two guards walked away, leaving Spike in Giles' care. He led the unresponsive man to his cell. Another guard, Peter, who was still relatively new to the prison, unlocked the door for them.

"Thank you, Peter, that'd be all."

"But..." The tall young man hesitated, unsure of the procedure. "He's bleeding through his shirt, shouldn't I call the nurse?"

"He might have reopened his wound. I'll check the stitches myself. If it's more serious than I think it is, I'll get her." He dismissed Peter and closed the bars behind him.

Once alone with Spike, Giles led the prisoner to the cot and made him sit.

"What in the bleeding hell got into you?"

When he didn't get a response from Spike, he sighed heavily. "Open up your shirt so I can see what kind of damage you did to yourself. Unfortunately, Buffy would be upset with me if I let you bleed to death. I'd rather avoid that."

Spike obeyed almost mechanically, still not saying a word. He opened his shirt, revealing the gauze wrapped around his midsection. A large spot of fresh blood was slowly spreading, the bright red a sharp contrast against the white of the bandage.

Giles clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Bleeding hell... I don't even know why they would let you out of the infirmary so soon anyway. Lie down, I'll go get Anya."

The guard was turning around to leave the cell when Spike finally spoke.

"Is it true?"

Giles stopped and turned to face Spike. He finally noticed there was something terribly wrong with the prisoner. Something that had nothing to do with his physical injury.

"Whatever do you mean?"

Spike shook his head as if trying to rid his brain of the stupor and focus on what was going on. "I heard something just now... a rumor..."

"William, get on with it. I'm slowly reaching the end of my patience. What in the world are you talking about?"

Blue eyes full of pain turned to look at Giles. "Did Buffy miscarry?" He chuckled humorlessly. "It's gotta be some stupid rumor. Has to be... would know if she was pregnant in the first place, wouldn‘t I?"

Giles froze. For a moment, his mouth hung open and he was speechless. He'd thought it odd that Buffy would take a few days off without telling him, and he did try to call her without ever managing to get a hold of her. But it never crossed his mind... Could it be true? Surely, she would have told him.

"Where did you hear this nonsense? Buffy is perfectly fine."

Spike kept his eyes trained on the other British man for a moment before speaking again. "Is she? Really? Because for a moment there, you hesitated. Where is she if she's OK?"

"Probably home, sick. A cold maybe... nothing to worry yourself with."

"She would have told me. She doesn't tell me everything of course, but I was injured and last time I saw her, she was really upset about it and promised to visit every day. If she got sick, she would have sent you or Faith to let me know."

"Faith? What does Faith have to do with this?"

"The bird found out about Buffy and I the day I got injured."

Giles took his glasses off and carefully cleaned the lenses. He could feel the beginning of a head ache forming at his temples and between his eyes. "I'm not even going to comment on this. The two of you have been taking tremendous risks with this. I cannot believe Buffy would be so careless as to let..."

"I thought you said you weren't going to comment on this?" Spike snapped. He was on edge. He needed to know if what Andrew said was true.

Giles glared at Spike, but he understood. If he was right about this, Buffy hadn't even told him yet that she was pregnant. Meaning not only did the poor bloke just find out through someone else, but there was also a chance she might have lost the child.

"I'm telling the truth, Spike. I don't know anything. But I'll find out what is wrong with her, if only to put your worries at ease. But keep in mind that Buffy still has quite a few enemies in this prison and anybody could have started a false rumor. Most likely, it's nothing at all. But if it makes you feel better, I'll stop by her house and see for myself."

Spike hung his head, feeling drained of his energy. "Thanks Rupert. I would appreciate that."

Giles nodded and turned to leave.

"I'll send Anya to take a look at your injury."

Without a word, Spike lay down, not caring that he was on Snyder's bed. He didn't even want to attempt climbing up into his own bed and it would also be easier for the nurse to change his bandage this way. He stared at the top bunk with unseeing eyes. If this rumor was true, it meant that Buffy had been pregnant. Did she know? Or did she just find out when it was already too late? Or maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe she did pass out but didn't lose the baby if baby there was. He remembered that day; she'd been exhausted emotionally and physically. There was a chance that she might still be pregnant and resting at home.

The idea that he might not be the father didn't even cross his mind. Buffy wouldn't betray him that way. Not that he would blame her if she did, but he didn't believe that. He didn't want to think she was that kind of woman. Buffy wasn’t Drusilla. If she'd met someone else, he liked to believe that she would be honest with him about it, no matter how much it would hurt. No, if she was pregnant, the baby had to be his. But Spike knew he was getting ahead of himself. He didn't even know for sure if it was true. And if it was true, chances were there wasn’t a baby anymore. But if there was...

Well, he really didn't know how he felt about that. Of course he'd be happy. How could he not? The situation was less than ideal but they would cope. It would be bad, but in a way, he'd feel like he'd given Buffy something of him to take home.

Spike sat up quickly and automatically hissed in pain, his abused body protesting loudly.

Didn't he tell Buffy recently that they should be more careful and take extra precautions so she wouldn't get pregnant? Something about how bad it would be if she got pregnant by accident? Was she already pregnant at the time? That sure as hell would explain why she didn't tell him.

Spike rested his head back on the pillow and shut his eyes.

"You fucking WANKER!"

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After Giles knocked a few times, the front door opened on a dark and quiet house. Dawn stood in front of him, looking nothing like the cheerful and carefree girl he’d met not too long ago. Her eyes were tired, her long chocolate brown hair was pulled back into a sloppy pony tail, she was wearing ratty sweat pants and an old Hemery High t-shirt. However, her face brightened considerably when she saw him.

“Giles! Oh my God, hi!”

“Hello, Dawn.”

“I’m so glad you’re here, you have no idea.”

Giles smiled warmly at the young woman. “Would you mind if I came in?”

“I’m sorry, how rude of me. Come in.” Dawn blushed prettily.

She stepped aside to let Giles in. He nodded and smiled gratefully at her.

“Thank you. Is… Is Buffy home, by any chance?”

The light left Dawn’s eyes at the mention of Buffy. It made Giles’ heart tighten in worry. “Is something wrong, Dawn? Is Buffy alright? Is she here?”

“… Yes, no and yes.”

He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Would you care to elaborate, please?”

“Something is wrong, Buffy is NOT alright even though she keeps saying she is, and yes she’s here. She’s in her bedroom right now. She barely left her room at all in the past couple of days.” Dawn’s eyes filled up with tears. “Did you know she was pregnant?”

Giles nodded carefully, suddenly filled with a sense of doom.

“Well she’s not anymore.”

“Oh dear lord…”

She turned around and walked to the kitchen.

“I have water boiling.” The young girl said in a flat voice. “I was making tea. Do you want some?”

Giles shook himself out of his shock. “I appreciate it, Dawn, but I’ll pass. Would it be alright if I go see Buffy?”

Dawn faced him and gave the older man a grateful look. “Please. Maybe you’ll get through to her. I tried and nothing will make her snap out of it. I don’t know what to do to make it better.”

“This is a hard situation, Dawn. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Buffy will have to deal with her grief on her own time. You can’t be expected to fix this. Just being there for her is already plenty enough, I’m sure.”

She managed a weak smile. “I just hate to see her in that much pain. I wish I could do something to help. Maybe you’ll have more luck.”

“All I can do is promise to try.”

Giles turned and made his way to Buffy’s room, leaving Dawn with her thoughts and her own grief.

He knocked lightly on the door, not wanting to wake Buffy up if she was sleeping.

“Yeah?”

Giles opened the door. Buffy was sitting in a comfy chair by the window. She had her legs tucked beneath her and was looking outside.

He went to sit at the end of her unmade bed and waited for her to look at him before speaking.

When she finally did, he gave her a small smile. “Hello Buffy.”

“Hi.” She answered quietly.

He remained silent, waiting for her to speak when she was ready. What could he say anyway? That he was sorry? The words couldn’t even come close to expressing his feelings, and would probably be interpreted as pity. She didn’t look like someone who wanted pity at the moment.

It took a little while, but she finally broke the silence.

“It’s so hard, Giles.”

“I know.” His voice was soft, hoping to offer some kind of comfort to the broken girl.

She shifted in the chair and drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her bent legs in a protective manner.

“I can’t do this. I really don’t think I can.”

“Buffy, of course you can. You’re a strong woman. The strongest I’ve ever met.”

“I used to think I was, but I’m starting to realize that maybe I was fooling myself. Everybody has a breaking point and I think I’ve just reached mine.”

Giles stood up and came to sit on the armrest of her armchair. He reached down and took her hand in his in a show of support. Support that she desperately needed at the moment.

“Women who go through this,” She continued in a voice thick with sorrow. “…they can stay at home and work through the pain with the arms of the man they love around them. Well, unless they’re in love with a jerk I guess. But me… What kind of choice do I have? Either I stay home, alone, or I go to work so I can steal a few moments with my man. But that would mean having to face all these people and pretend that everything is all right. I don’t think I have the courage to smile right now. I would probably end up breaking down in front of them.”

The young woman was obviously fighting tears and Giles reached out to push a stray lock of her blonde hair behind her ear in an instinctive fatherly gesture.

“I need him so much.” She whispered in a barely audible voice.

Making a decision, Giles got up and not letting go of her small hand, he gently pulled her up to her feet. She didn’t even have the strength to resist.

Standing in the middle of the room and looking every bit like a lost little girl, Buffy watched Giles disappear inside her walk-in closet. He came out of the closet a moment later, holding a pair of jeans and a long sleeve black cotton t. He put everything down on the bed and faced Buffy.

“You take a quick shower and get dressed. I’ll have some coffee ready for you when you’re done. That should refresh you enough so I can take you for a quick visit at the prison. And I won’t take no for an answer so don’t waste your time.”

Without waiting for an answer, he walked out of the bedroom, leaving Buffy to stare at his retreating back. It took a few moments, but she finally moved to go pick up the clothes he left for her on the bed and made her way to the bathroom.

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