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Before I get into this, I have to thank each and everyone of you that has taken the time to review this for me. It means so much to me that you like this story, I can't really sum it up into words, but please know that your compliments and reviews have reached me, and that I thank you all so much. Another thing, I'm suffering from a bit of performance anxiety, so, please keep the reviews coming.

[A/N: Title belongs to the Bard of Avon, in “As You Like It, act 1, sc. 2, the quotes, as always, as attributed. This started out as a, well, I got this idea after I bought season 5, and watched the interaction between Dawn and Spike. It kind of took a few twists and turns, but basically, this is still the original idea I first had so many months ago. This is also my first real foray into fanfiction, but far from my first fiction ever written. In point of fact, its more like just the latest in a long line of storytelling. Hopefully someone out there will enjoy this. Disclaimers in full force and effect.]

Previously: Buffy’s back due to Willow’s spellcrafting, though Tara, with help from Dawn had to clean up the mess. Giles called home from Heathrow Airport in London, only to be told what had just transpired in Sunnydale, and is now on his way back. This night however, isn’t quite over yet.

13. Dearer than the natural bond of sisters.

Like the prodigal doth she return,
With over-weather’d ribs and ragged sails,
Lean, rent and beggar’d by the strumpet wind!
The Merchant of Venice, act ii, sc. 6

It is only the dead who do not return
Bertrand Barere de Vieuzac, Speech, 1794

For life is but a dream whose shapes return,
Some frequently, some seldom, some by night,
And some by day
James Thomson, The City of Dreadful Night



She was dressed in warm soft pajamas, sitting on a bed, with a mound of pillows behind her and a cup of warm tea in her hand. Her voice was returning slowly, the muscles in her throat now lubricated by the liquid she’d been swallowing. The trembling hadn’t ceased yet, it was still something she fought constantly. The other girl, the one Spike kept referring to as Tara stayed nearby, in case she needed anything. He wasn’t in the room though. She liked having him near. It was comforting. He was familiar. Memories were swirling and she was trying to make some sense of them all. Faces, voices, images and words triggered each other, jumbling and confusing and nothing made sense. Thinking she remembered the girl, she tested out her memories. “Tara?”

The taller girl turned away from her straightening up of the room to face her. “Yes Buffy? Do you need something?”

A small shrug greeted her question, but Buffy whispered a question back. “Friends? We are friends . . . Willow?” Real confusion colored her face, until Tara sat down in front of her. “Yes sweetie. We are friends, and Willow is your friend. Do you remember Xander? And Anya?”

A little nod of her head indicated that she did remember the names. The next question was more difficult. “Dawn and Mom?”

Biting her lower lip, Tara wasn’t sure how to answer that one. Instead of blurting things out, she reached for one of Buffy’s hands, but the other girl pulled away when she realized her intent. Thick tears rose in hazel eyes, and a soft sob broke in the air. “No Mom. She’s gone. Where’s Dawnie?” Wild fright looked out from her eyes, and Buffy couldn’t fight the pain. “Where is she?”

Laying a soft hand on her thin ankle, Tara said “Spike went to go get her. She’ll be right here soon. I promise.”

Both girls lapsed into silence that wasn’t completely uncomfortable.


******************************* ******************************


After hanging the phone back upon the receiver, Spike stood in the hallway, his mind completely and totally blank. Coming back to himself with a start, he squished his way back to the shower. He’d given the girls enough time for Tara to help Buffy out of her rotted clothing, finish washing up and get Buffy into her own room.

He needed some time alone.

There was the strangest feeling riding his gut. Was like getting something you really deeply wanted handed to you, only just in a way that wasn’t right. Wasn’t that you still didn’t crave it, but more like it was tainted somehow. Despite being overjoyed about Buffy’s return, he couldn’t shake the feeling that some great horrible disaster was looming just beyond the horizon.

As he peeled off the wet jeans, he thought about the battered girl in the next room. He’d never seen her this way – not even when her mother died, not when Dawn had been taken by the hellbitch. Well, so she wasn’t her best when little bit had been taken, going all Karen Quinlan, but still, she’d felt . . . whole. Right now, it felt like pieces of her were missing. Hell, chunks were missing, not just pieces. How the hell were they gonna help her get them back?

Leaning back against the tiled wall behind him, Spike closed his eyes and surrendered to his emotions. Tears slid down his face as he lifted it toward the warm spray. Bleeding Jesus. Fucking Red brought her back. Buffy was back from beyond, back from the dead, breathing and heartbeat intact.

He’d held her in his arms, her skin delicate and paper-thin, her bones nearly poking through. It broke his heart, seeing what a state she was in, what having to dig her way out of her coffin had done to her. She was bruised and battered, her spirit nearly broken. It was also clear her memories were not intact, it had taken too long for her to recognize things for it not to be.

Angry tears surfaced. That fucking arrogant . . . yeah, he’d wanted Buffy back, would have given anything to be able to even see her again – but not like this – not this way. Wherever she’d been, and Spike had his suspicions, coming back had broken something with her. Broken something vital.

Maybe he was just over-reacting, maybe it was just his over-protectiveness and knowing what she’d had to do after coming back. It had been traumatic when he’d done it, crawled from his grave, enough so that he’d had nightmares for years – and he hadn’t needed to breathe. He could imagine what it had been like for the slayer, on top of not knowing what had happened to her.

But still – seeing her sitting there – in the pale moonlight, had caught his heart in his throat – he’d gasped for air – and part of him had wanted to just lay down and thank god for her. And that moment, when she’d reached out to him, Spike would never ever forget it. Would carry that memory until he was dust.

He had not a clue, though, what to say to Dawn. Tara had told him bits of what had happened, enough so that he knew he didn’t have to explain everything to Dawn. Closing his eyes, Spike dipped his head under the water. Another problem was Red.

Not having the whole story was probably a good thing, at least at the moment. Torn between wanting to kiss Willow and throttling her, Spike was at a loss. What she’d done, while not exactly wrong, clearly hadn’t been entirely right either. While her motivation may have been pure, obviously Willow’s execution left a lot to be desired. In his mind, he had to wonder if Willow had known Buffy would have ended up trapped in her grave.

Stepping out of the shower, Spike quickly toweled off, then slipped into the clean black jeans Tara had found for him. Avoiding his non-reflection in the mirror, he ran a quick comb through his curls and realized he was stalling. Bleeding wanker, he thought about himself. All this because I don’t want to face a teenager. He snorted at the blank mirror, tossing aside his wet towel. Best do it now mate, she’ll never forgive you if you make her wait.

Without further procrastination Spike made his way to Dawn’s room. He stood outside the closed door listening intently to the heartbeat inside. He knocked once then slipped into the dark room. Pale moonlight barely filtered through her curtains while the air conditioner hummed away. Unlike her sister, Dawn preferred artificial cool air over warm breezes. Dawn was on her side, facing away from the door, huddled under a light blanket.

Spike sat down on the bed just behind Dawn’s hip. Reaching out a hand to shake her, he softly called her name. “Dawn. Wake up, c’mon Platelet, wake up.” She shifted a bit but didn’t respond. “C’mon Bit, I need you awake. Need to see your pretty eyes. Wake up Dawn.”

After about ten minutes of not always gentle prodding, Dawn rolled over a bit onto her back, and without opening an eye, said “this better be good otherwise I’ll sic Spike on you.”

His deep chuckle sounded very loud in the small room. “C’mon Dawnie, wake up.” Nice to hear she put a lot of trust in him.

Dawn rolled over to face him, barely opening her eyes. “What?”

“Need you a bit more awake.” Shifting on the bed, she finally opened both eyes and waited. “Dawn, need you to listen carefully.” Her ears perked up. He rarely called her by her first name, only when something was serious. “Was out patrolling, ended up in Restfield.”

Oh god. Dawn’s sleepy attention was riveted on him now. The way he looked and his tone of voice indicated that something was indeed up. And not anything good by the sound of it.

“Red’s mojo – it worked.” Before the thought of bolting for the door was finished forming, Spike had a restraining hand on her. “No. Niblet, need to listen to me now. It’s important.”

“Spike I need to . . “

“No. Dawn. You need to listen to me first.” As his tone got worse, she stopped moving, waiting for him to finish. “The mojo didn’t work the way Willow intended. Yeah, your sis is back, but – Niblet, I said wait.” Dawn was off the bed and nearly at the door when he caught her by the arm. “Dawn sit down now.” He ground out the words, nearly growling, something he never did to her.

“Just tell me Spike. I won’t move.” Dawn pushed his hands off her, then crossed her arms in front of her. God almighty, she looked just like her bloody sister, tapping foot and impatience personified.

His sigh indicated his acceptance of her defiance. “She had to dig herself out. She’s not the same – something. . . “ at a loss for words, Spike just blurted it out. “Look, loud noise and bright lights are too much – took her a while to remember me. I found her, just after she’d crawled from her grave – she’s not good, Bit, might not know you. Just . . . “ he ran a hand through his hair, struggling with what more to say. He couldn’t look at Dawn, afraid of the look on her face.

She touched him, her voice small and scared. Unlike Buffy, her bravado didn’t always carry her through. “But she’s Buffy, right? Not like what happened with Mom . . . “

“No, it’s her, just not one hundred percent, but it’s her.” She deserved the truth, no matter what anyone thought, Dawn wasn’t a baby and the trials of the last few months alone had made her grow up. He waited, while Dawn processed the information.

“Okay Spike. I get it.” Dawn reached out a hand, all at once his little Bit again. Ageless and timeless the key was, Dawn was still basically a kid. Times like this, when she was scared it was really evident. “But you’re sure she’s not like Mom – I mean we won’t have to send her back, right?” Her face told him everything he needed to know. She was scared and she had listened to him, and surprise, surprise, she’d listened to Tara also.

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s Buffy.” Spike tried to stop his voice from breaking but it didn’t exactly work. “Don’t think it’s anything like what you did.”

She needed his reassurance, needed to hear it from him. Her trust in him staggered him sometimes, this being one of them. Never ceased to make him wonder how she could trust someone like him, who’d done so many . . . cruel and brutal things. But she did. She trusted him almost as much as she trusted her mother or her sister. Another silent promise from him went out to her, to never violate that trust.

Taking her hand in his, he tugged her toward the door. “C’mon Niblet, she’ll be wanting to see you.”


******************************* *******************************


Tara had no idea how long they’d been waiting, but it had been a while since Spike had hung up with Giles. The sky was lightening, the early morning birds chirping their happiness out to the new day, and Buffy sat quietly on her bed. Few words had been spoken between the two, neither one really sure what to say.

Buffy was really . . . no she wasn’t glad, but, it was just better that Tara was here. The girl had such a calm air that couldn’t help but soothe everyone around her. She didn’t chatter unnecessarily or feel the need to fill silence with any other kind of noise. No, this was better, much better.

Both of them looked up when the door creaked open.


******************************* *******************************


Dawn had skipped ahead of Spike then slammed to a dead stop outside Buffy’s door. Only a couple of steps behind her, Spike nearly walked into her back. “Bloody hell, Niblet, why’d ya stop?”

“You’re sure it’s Buffy?”

Turning her toward him with a hand on her shoulder Spike looked down into scared blue eyes. “Yeah. I promise, it’s your sis.”

Not giving her another chance to chicken out, Spike opened the door. He stuck his head in, speaking softly to the girl on the bed. “Brought someone in to see you, pet. You up for a visit?”

A tentative smile was directed his way and as she cleared her throat to speak, her baby sister walked through the door. “Dawn.”

She’d heard him, earlier, even listened to him. But nothing had prepared her for the sight of her sister. A mere whisper of air spoke her name. “Buffy?”

Two tiny words. Just their names. And yet the emotion in those words nearly broke their hearts.

“Oh Dawnie.”

Stifling a shriek, a noise broke from Dawn that ended in a sob. “You’re real. Really real. Oh god, Buffy, I missed you so much.”

Afraid she was lost in a dream, Dawn made for the bed. “You’re here, really here.” Sitting down on the bed next to Buffy, Dawn burst into tears. Gulping in huge amounts of air, she reached out to Buffy then stopped. The slayer wasn’t happy with that. Clutching Dawn like she was lifeline, Buffy cried into her sister’s long brown hair.

Tara slipped from the room, leaving the girls alone with Spike.





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