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CHAPTER 2 - Realisation

Stepping over scattered debris, Buffy had to sidestep quickly when she almost trod on a broken body that lay at a twisted angle. A smile of grim satisfaction spread across her features when she recognised the demon lying at her feet. It was the one she pushed off the tower, the one Dawn had called Doc. From the grotesque tilt of his head, she knew that his neck was broken and fleetingly wished she’d been able to inflict the deathblow directly. Turning away, she rounded another pile of rubble and halted momentarily when, there in front of her, she saw Spike’s motionless body laying face down.

Hurrying forward, she dropped to her knees by his side, her eyes darting over his body assessing the extent of his injuries. She saw where he’d been stabbed in the back and noted that there was still fresh blood oozing from the wound. As gently as she could, she reached out and turned him over. "Oh God," she murmured as his bloodied face came into view.

Carefully, she checked his head and realised that most of the blood came from a large cut on his right temple and a few scratches on his right cheek. Not surprising since it was the side that he’d landed on, she decided, looking at the broken concrete that lay around and underneath him.

Glancing up at the height of the tower, the urge to have killed Doc with her own bare hands hit even more fervently than before. Tears momentarily blurred her vision and she couldn’t help but wonder just when she‘d reached the point of caring for Spike so much.

Sighing, she tenderly placed her hand along his undamaged cheek, letting her eyes roam over the chiselled, high cheek boned features of the vampire that was once her mortal enemy.

Slick bleached blond hair, black clothes and a long leather duster all indicated at the predator he once was until the government had implanted a pain chip in his brain, effectively stopping him from feeding or hurting anyone human.

He’d begun helping the gang out when he realised he could still harm demons. At first, it had been purely for monetary gain but over the last few months, he claimed he was doing for love. Love for her. The Slayer. It was unthinkable and she hadn’t believed it. Didn’t want to believe it. It had disgusted and horrified her that an evil, soulless…thing…could think it had feelings for her. Vampires couldn’t love. No soul equalled no feelings, right? It was that simple.

And yet, when it came to Spike, she had begun to realise that things were never that simple. Actions spoke louder than words and there he lay after almost dying for Dawn. Again.

The first time had been when he’d withstood hideous torture at the hands of Glory because he wouldn’t reveal the identity of the Key. He’d told Buffy, disguised as a robot replica of herself, that he knew how much losing Dawn would hurt the real Buffy and he couldn’t stand for her to be in that much pain. He’d rather have died first and very nearly did, his badly beaten face and body a testament to the fact.

With sudden clarity, she realised that was the day her feelings for the vampire had changed. On some level, she had finally acknowledged that what he felt for her was real.

Hot on the heels of that insightful little bolt from the blue, came another, more shocking one. Ever since that day, she’d been slowly and inexorably falling for him herself.

Closing her eyes, she momentarily railed against that particular revelation but soon realised it was fruitless as her mind, once again, wandered back to when she‘d seen his post tortured state and she recalled the gesture that she now knew had changed everything.

That day, there had been no way for him to know that she was the real Buffy and when he had stopped talking, she had felt an overwhelming need to offer him comfort and say ’thank you’ in some small way for all he’d done for them. So, she’d leaned forward and given him a chaste kiss. No heat, no passion, no promise of anything more. Just a simple brushing of lips for his instinctive selfless act that, without either of them realising, had managed to open her heart to him far more effectively than anything he had contrived in the past.

A low moan broke her out of her reverie and she saw that the vampire was beginning to come round. Still coming to terms with her little epiphany, she hastily removed her hand, not quite sure how to deal with the new feelings that she was only just acknowledging within. Just act normally, she told herself firmly. First things first, get Dawn and Anya to the hospital. Deal with feelings for Spike tomorrow.

The vampire’s head moved as if searching, once more, for her touch and then his eyes fluttered open. He blinked a couple of times and then blue eyes locked with green as he stared at her, slightly dazed. "Slayer?" he said uncertainly then, seconds later, his eyes widened suddenly. A look of pure horror came over his features and without warning, he sat bolt upright, his panicked face stopping mere inches from her own. "Dawn!" he cried hoarsely. "Is she…did you…?"

"Dawn’s fine," Buffy hastily assured him. "She’s with Giles. No portal open. Everything good."

Spike closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Dawn was fine. He hadn‘t failed…not completely anyway. Dawn was fine and so was Buffy. "Thank God for that," he muttered in relief then grimaced and moaned as the pain from his battered body began to register in full force.

"Bloody hell," he cursed, stiffly moving a hand around to the wound in his back and tutting angrily when his fingers came away smeared with blood. Looking at Buffy, he glanced at the tower and asked, "Doc?"

"Dead," she replied simply.

"Good," he huffed and then shook his head. "Can’t believe that little pipsqueak bested me," he muttered, disgusted with himself.

"Well, from what Dawn said, there was nothing more you could‘ve done," Buffy assured him, as she stood up and held her hand out to him.

Still bristling from the fact that he‘d been beaten so easily by the other demon, he felt himself grow angry at her proffered hand. "I’m not helpless," he ground out, waving away her offer of help. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself awkwardly to his feet before adding derisively, "And as for what Bit told you, truth is, Slayer, I was too slow. Platelet was just being nice."

"Can‘t imagine why when you‘re such a stubborn pain in the ass," Buffy muttered as she let her arm fall back to her side feeling a mixture of disappointment and irritation that he hadn’t accepted her help.

"What?" he questioned with a frown before moving forward and letting out a yelp of pain as his left leg gave out beneath him.

"Spike!" Buffy cried as she lunged forward and caught his arm, steadying him before he could tumble back to the ground. "What’s wrong with your leg?" she asked in concern.

"Think I must’ve twisted it when I fell," he replied through gritted teeth, as the pain quickly subsided.

"Can you walk?"

He gingerly put his weight on his leg again and nodded. "If you can call shuffling, walking," he mumbled in aggravation.

Buffy released his arm and couldn’t help but smile at the annoyed vampire. "Remind me never to push you off a tower," she said teasingly. "Makes you cranky."

Spike scowled at her then started hobbling away.

"Uh, Spike?" Buffy called from behind him.

He stopped and turned clumsily in her direction. "What?" he snapped.

"It’s this way," she told him smiling sweetly and jabbing her thumb over her shoulder.

His mouth tightened but he silently limped back over to her and growled softly as he carried on past.

‘Not big on the funnies when in excruciating pain. Check,’ Buffy mentally noted as she sighed and followed after him. Drawing level, she grabbed his left arm and placed it around her shoulders then slipped her right arm around his waist offering quiet support.

He stiffened slightly and looked down at her. For a moment she thought he was going to pull away, but then he gave her a curt nod of thanks and leaned into her as they continued on their way.

As soon as they rounded the pile of rubble a few feet away, Spike jerked to a stop and stared at Doc’s prone body. With a glance at Buffy, Spike looked back at Doc and a nasty smile appeared on his face. "Could you give me a moment, luv?" he asked quietly, removing his arm from her shoulder. "Just need a spot of unnecessary violence."

Buffy nodded and stepped back knowing that the vampire needed to vent some of his frustration, even if it was on an already dead demon. Hell, she’d have done it herself if she hadn’t been so intent on getting to Spike.

The vampire limped over to the body and looked down at it unemotionally. This was the thing that had nearly hurt Dawn. Although he had promised Buffy to protect her sister, he knew he would have done it anyway. Somewhere during the time he had fallen in love with the Slayer he had also grown fond of her family too. Genuinely fond. Although he doubted whether Buffy or any of her friends actually realised that.

Joyce had always treated him like a friend…well…apart from that whole ‘hitting him over the head with an axe’ incident a few years back…but, he’d been a different vampire then and, truth be told, he’d secretly admired her spirit from then on.

And, the Niblet; well, she’d stolen into his undead heart as sneakily as her sister and he now looked upon her as the sibling he’d never had. Suddenly, an image of her scared face just before he was thrown off the tower flashed into his mind and his features twisted in contempt for the demon at his feet.

Ignoring the pain in his left leg, he lifted his right and brought it down hard on Doc‘s chest listening in satisfaction to the sound of bones crunching and snapping under the pressure. He ground his heel in for good measure, then withdrew his blood covered boot and stood back surveying the damage. "See you in Hell, you bastard," he told the unmoving body before turning away and hobbling back to Buffy’s side.

"Feel better?" she asked, slipping her arm around his waist again.

"Much," he replied, settling his arm comfortably about her shoulders.

Nothing more was said and the pair continued on their way as if they’d never stopped. They reached the patch of clear ground near the tower steps and saw Willow and Tara standing by Dawn talking to each other while the youngster sat quietly on a large piece of rock, looking in their direction.

As soon as the teenager saw them, a huge grin spread over her face. "Buffy! Spike!" she called, causing the witches to break off their conversation and look over, smiles of their own lighting up their faces.

The two warriors smiled back in response and quickened their pace only to come to a shuddering stop when an excited Dawn went to stand up and let out a small cry of pain. Having forgot about her wound for a moment, she had inadvertently jarred it, the pain causing her to sit back down heavily.

Buffy heard Spike let out a loud hiss and glanced up to see a look of shock and anger on his face as he stared at her sister, or more accurately, the bloodied skirt scrunched up against the young girl‘s stomach.

"Bloody hell, Slayer," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly before opening them to reveal a suspicious moisture lurking in their depths. "You didn’t tell me she got hurt," he accused falteringly, eyes still firmly on Dawn.

"I…," she began but Spike just shook his head and removed his arm from around her shoulders, pulling away from her grasp at the same time.

"Doesn’t matter," he interrupted coolly. "Not like you’re obliged to tell me anything. Only a vamp after all." Without giving her the chance to respond, he then limped over to Dawn, eased himself down next to her and reached out to cover one of her small hands in his, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Realising she only had herself to blame for his way of thinking, Buffy followed slowly after him. She gave the witches a half smile as they stepped back to allow her to sit down on the other side of her sister. Offering silent comfort of her own, Buffy lifted her hand and gently rubbed the young girl’s back.

Spike studiously ignored the elder Summers sister and focussed on Dawn. "Let me see," he requested quietly.

Dawn stared up at him, then carefully pulled the fabric away from her stomach wincing as some of the congealed blood that had stuck to the skirt pulled on her tender skin.

Once the long, thin cut was revealed to his gaze, Spike felt a rush of guilt crash through him. He had failed after all. "I’m sorry, Niblet," he whispered, looking at the young girl contritely.

Shaking her head vigorously, Dawn quickly re-covered her wound then smiled at him. "It‘s not your fault, Spike," she replied softly. "And anyway, it’s not as bad as it looks."

Spike swallowed and gave her a ghost of a smile back. "Right, well, we best get you to the hospital then. Just to be on the safe side, eh?" he said as he stood up.

The teenager groaned in protest but Buffy silenced her by saying, "Spike’s right, Dawnie. It probably needs stitches."

Dawn sighed loudly then went to stand up. Spike bent to help her but Buffy stopped him with a wave of her hand. "It‘s OK, I’ll see to Dawn, Spike. We’re getting a lift with Xander. Anya needs treatment for a cut on her head and a check-up to make sure she doesn’t have concussion."

Spike immediately stepped back as if he’d been slapped, his face assuming a blank expression. "Of course. Don’t know what I was thinking. You don’t need my help," he said with a touch of bitterness. "I’ll just go and…"

"You’ll just go to my house with Will and Tara and have them see to your injuries, Spike," Buffy interrupted firmly. She had guessed that he thought she was pushing him away. Hell, she’d done it so many other times in the past it was understandable he’d expect no different. Only now, she knew it was different and she wanted him to see that too.

She was pleased when his expression softened but, then he surprised her by abruptly turning away and saying offhandedly, "I’ll heal, Slayer. Crypt’s good enough for me."

"Spike!" she called out to his retreating back, resisting the urge to stamp her foot. He stopped and turned back to look at her, eyes narrowed. "Please," she coaxed softly and gave him a small smile.

He looked around himself in surprise, just making sure that she was talking to him, then met her beseeching gaze once more and found himself nodding slowly. "Ok, Slayer, if it‘ll make you happy." She nodded and he slowly walked back over, following the Slayer and her friends to where Xander and Giles were waiting by their vehicles.

As Spike walked around to the passenger side of Giles’ car, he watched Buffy help a stumbling Dawn over to Xander’s vehicle. The pained expression on the young girl’s face as she settled down in the back next to Anya sent a fresh wave of guilt flooding through him and he looked down at his feet with a glum expression. It was all his fault.

Once Dawn was comfortable, Buffy got into the passenger seat next to Xander. Out of the window, she saw Willow and Tara get in the back of Giles’ car while Spike prepared to get in the front. As they drove slowly past, he looked up and their eyes met briefly before he looked away and got in the car. Buffy frowned, then looked straight ahead wondering why the blond vampire had looked so inexplicably sad.

END CHAPTER 2





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