The Return
Part 2 - The Prodigal
****
The pain in his head was so intense that for several moments when he first woke up Spike thought the chip was firing off again. It took those moments for his memory to start working and make him realize what the pain was really all about. With a groan he rolled over in bed. It wasn’t until it was too late that he remembered that he wasn’t in a bed, he was laying on top of a table. With a thud, like a sack of wet sand, he dropped the thirty or so inches to the concrete floor. The pain of the impact was bad enough, but the pain in his head seemed to magnify it ten fold. For long minutes he laid there, hurting to much to even try to move again.
When the pounding in his head dropped from a thousand decibels to a mere one hundred, he dragged his hands under himself and slowly pushed himself up and back so that he could get to his knees. Cautiously reaching out he found the table, and using it for leverage pulled himself up to his feet. The room was pitch dark. Not remembering where the chairs were, Spike waved his hand out in front of him until he touched the back of one of them. He then used the chair to steady himself until he could move to the front of it and sit down. Leaning forward he placed his elbows on his knees and held his head between his hands.
As Spike sat there holding his head, the thought ran through his mind that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten so drunk or hurt so bad. Then the memories came to him and he did remember, ‘Sunnydale’. He use to get drunk like this back in Sunnydale all the time. He’d always been one to go on an occasional drunk, sometimes a major drunk. But that last year in Sunnydale, getting drunk like this had become a common occurrence. When he was trying to ease the pain, both physical and emotional, of his ‘relationship’ with Buffy, getting drunk was the only way he knew of to numb himself enough, to the point where he couldn’t think, or dream. Spike pushed those thoughts and memories away.
Knowing that sitting like he was wasn’t going to change the way he was feeling, Spike lifted his head from his hands and sat back in the chair. The darkness in the room was so complete that he couldn’t make out anything. He thought about vamping out, to increase his senses, but knew that would only make his head hurt more. Instead he searched his pockets until he found his lighter. Closing his eyes to mere slits, he lit his lighter. Even that, the light from his lighter, made his eyes water and his head hurt. As his eyes adjusted to the light he looked around the room. He could see the switch for the overhead light, but wasn’t willing to face that much pain yet. Instead he rose to his feet and walked on shaky legs over to a small desk lamp sitting on top of a filing cabinet. He turned his head away from the lamp and closed his eyes just before he turned it on. Cautiously he opened his eyes and let them adjust to the light. After a few moments, Spike started to look himself over and a snort of disgust escaped his lips.
When Spike had been smoking the night before he hadn’t much cared about where the ashes from his cigarettes fell. Looking at himself now he could see that when he fell off the table he had apparently landed in the middle of them. His hands and cloths were covered with them, and most likely his face and hair. Spike tried to brush the dirt and ashes off his coat and pants, but only succeeded in making smears. Snorting again in disgust he gave up the effort. Spike had been dirtier than this thousands of times, but still it wasn’t something he enjoyed, and besides, he didn’t like the idea of looking like this in front of the Watcher and those other gets.
Still, if he wanted to clean up he was going to have to ask Giles or his men to do so. Spikes first thought was to go over to the door and just yank it open and demand that they allow him to use a shower, if this warehouse even had one, or the washroom at the very least. The thought of going into vamp face and scaring the hell out of whoever was on the other side of the door was appealing for a brief moment. Then caution and reality entered his thoughts and he stopped himself from doing it. Instead he walked over to the door and knocked on it loudly, then stepped back across the room to put distance between himself and the door.
When the door opened a few moments later, two men were standing on the other side of the doorway, both with tranq guns in their hands. One of the men he didn’t recognize, the other was the get that had brought him human blood the night before. When the men saw that he had backed up across the room, they relaxed a little, but kept their fingers on the triggers of the guns.
When Spike spoke his voice was raspy, but steady “I need to clean up” he told them. “Need to feed too. Pigs blood, if you got it, cow or sheep will do.”
The man Wilson blushed at the mention of pigs blood, but nodded his head. The other man said, “We’ll bring you a bucket of hot water and soap, some towels too. How much blood do you want?”
Spike thought about it for a few moments before answering. He knew he needed to feed as well as possible to get rid of the hangover and to make his body stop hurting. “Could do a quart, two if you’ve got it?”
The man Wilson spoke next, “We’ve got a two liter bottle of pigs blood. Do you want it hot or cold?”
“Just warm it up, body temperature will be just fine” Spike said, then let a grin spread across his lips.
Both Wilson and the other man seemed to blanch a bit, but nether of them said anything. Wilson reached out and taking the doorknob pulled the door shut. Spike stared at the closed door for several moments, then shrugged his shoulders.
Taking his coat off, he laid it on the table. He then removed his shirt and the t-shirt under it. Holding the t-shirt up to his nose he gave it a sniff. Being a vampire, he didn’t perspire, so it wasn’t as if he had to worry much about body odor. But still, wearing anything for to long it tended to pick up a musky smell. The t-shirt didn’t smell to bad, and besides, it wasn’t like he had a choice about what to wear. Laying the shirt and t-shirt over the back of the chair, Spike stood there for several moments not knowing what to do with himself next. He walked over to the filing cabinet, where the desk lamp was sitting and picked up the opened pack of cigarettes that was sitting there. Pausing for just a moment, he picked up the unopened pack of cigarettes too. No sense letting them go to waste, was there, and slipped them into his pants pocket. Going back over to the table he searched his coat pockets until he found his lighter, then lit a cigarette.
Spike was still standing at the table when there was a tap on the door, then the door swung open. Wilson was standing there with a bucket of steaming water, a washcloth and a towel. The other man that had been with Wilson before was standing behind him with his tranq gun in his hand. Spike backed away from the table several feet. Wilson entered the room and set the bucket, washcloth and towel on the table. He then backed up toward the door. When he reached the door, Wilson said, “Were warming the blood up slowly, don’t want to cook it, should be ready in a few minutes.”
Spike nodded his head in acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything. When Wilson pulled the door closed behind him, Spike walked back to the table and picked up the washcloth. Wrapped inside the cloth was a bar of soap. Spike gave the soap a sniff and was pleased that it didn’t have some kind of flowery smell to it, more like a woodsy smell. Using the soap he first washed his hands, then using the washcloth and soap he worked up a lather and washed his face, arms, and upper body. He rinsed the cloth out twice, then wiped himself down again, then rinsed and wiped again. Using the towel he dried himself off. He then wet his fingers and combed them through his hair. Under the circumstances, Spike figured he’d done the best he could to make himself presentable. His next step was to try to clean up his cloths a bit. The shirt and t-shirt were fine, they’d been covered up by his coat. He used the damp washcloth and started rubbing at the dirt and ashes on his pants, removing the worst of it. He then rinsed the cloth out and spreading his coat out on the table started wiping it down. Being a waterproof, the majority of the dirt and ash came off easily.
As Spike cleaned his coat the memory of his old leather duster came to mind. He knew that he’d left it in Sunnydale, but couldn’t remember for sure where, he‘d been pretty messed up the night he left town. He felt certain that it was long gone, probably burned to ashes by Buffy, or one of her Scoobies, no doubt. But still he missed it. He’d had that coat for twenty-five years and had loved it as his prized possession. He’d hand sewn new linings into it a half dozen or more times and had spent hundreds of hours with the finest surgical threads and needles stitching up the holes, cuts and tears it had received over the years of fighting. He’d worked the most expensive leather oils he could steal, or buy when necessary, into the leather to make it soft and pliable. Most people, without a close study, would have never been able to detect all the work he had put into the coat to keep it whole.
Yeah, he really did miss it sometimes. Of course, whenever he thought about the coat, his soul reminded him of how he got it, by killing a Slayer, and made him feel guilty. But still, it had been one ‘glorious’ fight with that Slayer, and one ‘bloody hell’ of a trophy. He missed the coat, and if a guilty conscience for how he got it was the price of remembering it, it was a small price compared to the guilt he felt over so many other deeds. After his first good paying contract in Rome, he’d gone out and bought himself a new leather duster. But when it got torn up in a fight with a couple of demons, it just wasn’t the same as the old duster, it just wasn’t worth the time and effort to patch it up again. After that, he just started wearing waterproofs. They weren’t the same, but he wasn’t the same anymore either. It was probably just as well anyway, he’d gone through nearly a dozen waterproofs in the past two years and they were easier to replace than to try to patch them up.
Spike was still ruminating over his lost duster, while he wiped down the waterproof, when there was a tap on the door. When the door opened this time, Wilson walked into the room without waiting for him to back away. The other man was still at the doorway with his gun, but he wasn’t pointing it at Spike this time. Wilson set a second bucket on the table, and a large mug. The bucket was half full of steaming water and submerged in the water was a bottle of blood.
Spike stepped over to the chair and picking up his t-shirt slipped it on. He then picked up his shirt and slipped it on too, but didn’t bother to button it up. Wilson had backed away from the table a few feet, but hadn’t left the room. Spike reached into the bucket and lifted the bottle of blood from the water. That’s when Wilson spoke to him, “We kept running hot water over the bottle, until it got to what we thought would be the right temperature. Didn’t really know how else to do it without cooking it?”
Spike felt the warmth of the bottle in his hand and looking over at Wilson gave him a real smile, without any hint of acrimony in it. “That was real nice of you mate” Spike told him, “thanks a lot.” Spike then opened the bottle and poured blood into the mug.
A slight blush came to Wilson’s face as he spoke, “Yeah, well, sorry about last night.”
Spike knew he was referring to the mess with the human blood the night before and nodded his head in acknowledgement of the apology. It wasn’t often that someone gave that kind of courtesy to him, he wasn’t about to throw it back in their face. When Spike picked up the mug and brought it to his lips to drink the blood, Wilson quickly backed out of the room. ‘Guess there’s some things humans never can get use to’ Spike thought to himself as he drank the first mug of blood down quickly. By the time he’d finished the second mug of blood, the headache from the heavy drinking was gone. By the time he finished the bottle, he felt fit enough to go out and kick a couple Fyarl demons arses just to burn off the excess energy he was feeling.
Of course, now that he had all this energy he was getting antsy with waiting around for the Watcher to show up and tell him if he was going to dust him or not. Spike knew that the soul wouldn’t let him kill, or even injure seriously, Giles or his men. Not that he really wanted to anyway. But he sure as hell didn’t want to die either. Besides that, Buffy wanted something from him, a favor, and he’d be damned twice over before he’d die without finding out what she wanted. So, having no other way to burn off energy and tension, Spike started pacing the floor and smoking cigarette after cigarette.
The air was thick with smoke and Spikes pacing had become even more agitated, when suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. He heard a noise outside the door. Listening closely he could hear the heart beats of six people. That would be Giles and his men, all of them. If Giles was showing up with all his men at once, it probably meant that Spike wasn’t going to be leaving the room on his feet, more likely in a dust pan. Spike moved to the end of the table, putting it between him and the doorway. Maybe, just maybe, he could flip it up on end and use it as a shield to protect him from the first shots, then rush the group and break his way through to freedom. He let his senses reach out further and realized that it was probably at least an hour before sundown, which limited how far he could escape. He could stand there and let himself be dusted, or run out into the sun and be dusted anyway. Spike chose to light another cigarette and to lean casually against a filing cabinet as if he didn’t have a concern in the world. He was damned if he was going to show fear to any of these wankers.
When the door finally opened, Giles was the first to walk into the room. His first reaction was to start waving his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke away. When he spoke, his words actually sent a wave of relief through Spike that he desperately hoped he was able to conceal. “Bloody hell, Spike! Just because you don’t need to breath doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t.”
Spike let a smirk cross his lips for a moment, then said “Sorry about that, Rupert. Small room, nothing else to do.”
Giles continued on into the room and walked over near Spike. Wilson and the other man that had been with him before followed Giles into the room. Neither one of them was carrying their weapons. Wilson collected the washcloth, soap, towel, mug and empty blood bottle. The other man picked up the two buckets. They both turned and left the room, leaving the door open behind them. Neither Jennings, nor the other two men came into the room, they appeared to be packing up equipment in the other room.
With the door open the smoke in the air had thinned out and Spike was able to see Giles clearly. He had obviously washed and shaved and had changed his clothing, but the weariness that laid across his face was clear to read. Spike didn’t make any comment on how Giles looked, he said instead “I’m gathering by what’s going on that I’m not going to be turned into a pile of dust, and that I’m free to go?”
Giles straightened his shoulders, looked Spike in the eyes, then spoke. “Yes, Spike, you are free to go. After I give you the message from Buffy. If you still want to leave, we won’t stop you.” Reaching inside his coat, Giles withdrew a small white envelope and handed it to Spike.
Spike looked at the envelope, turning it to see both sides. There wasn’t anything written on the outside. Using one finger he broke the seal and opened it, then withdrew a small piece of folded paper. Hesitating for several seconds, he unfolded the paper, in Buffys hand writing was written:
Spike,
Dawn needs you.
Please, come home.
Buffy
Spikes hand started shaking as he read the message again. Stepping away from Giles he turned his back to him. His head bowed forward and tears came to his eyes. Reading that Dawn needed him for some reason shook him to his very foundation. He had also noticed immediately that Buffy had underlined the word ‘Please’. In all the years that Spike had known Buffy he was certain that she had never said that word, ‘Please’, to him before. That word alone told him that whatever the situation was, it was serious, very serious. The words ‘come home’ rang a different note within him. Pain, sorrow, guilt, remorse, passed through him in waves, bringing more tears to his eyes. With his back still to Giles, his voice choked with emotions he could not hold back, Spike asked “What’s wrong with the Niblet, Rupert? What she needs me to do?”
Giles hesitated for a few moments, he could see by Spikes reaction to the message that he was deeply affected. When he spoke his voice was gentle, but firm. “First, I need to know if your going to come back with me to Sunnydale? The situation is very complicated and can’t be explained in a few minutes. I promise that I will tell you everything, once we are on the plane to London.”
When Spike turned back to Giles, his tears were clearly visible on his face. With one hand he wiped them away. He then slipped the note back into the envelope, then placed the envelope into his shirt pocket. Moving past Giles he picked his coat up off the table and slipped it on. “Okay, Watcher, if that’s the way you want it, we’d better be leaving.”
Taken by surprise by Spikes urgency to leave, Giles said quickly “We can’t leave yet. The sun won’t be down for at least another thirty or forty minutes and the plane doesn’t leave until an hour later.”
“You’ve got a blanket around here, right? I can cover up with that, so we can leave now. We’ve got to make a stop first anyway, I need to pick up my things at the convent” Spike said as he walked out of the room.
Taken by surprise again, Giles followed Spike out of the room. His voice a little sharper than he intended, Giles said “Spike, what the bloody hell are you talking about, what convent?”
Stopping in the middle of the room, Jennings and the others were all present, finishing up their own packing, Spike turned back to Giles. “Look, Rupert, I told you I do work for the Church, sometimes. Whenever I travel, if there’s a good sized church, monastery or convent around, I stay in one. Saves on travel expenses, cuts down on questions at hotels, provides me a safe place to stay where the average person wouldn’t think of looking for me. My travel bag, cloths, passport, papers, money, their all at the convent. I need to pick them up, plus send a message back to Paris, to Father Boulard. He’ll let the Vatican blokes know where I’ve gone. He’ll also look after my things in Paris, if I’m gone that long.”
Being totally nonplused, Giles babbled out “Your staying at a convent?”
With an amused smirk spreading across his face, Spike replied “Yeah, most of the Sisters are right good company, and the Mother Superior, she’s a right card shark when it comes to Whist.” The shocked looks on Giles and the other men’s faces was a treasure to behold. With a big smile on his face and a glint in his eyes, Spike added “What’s the matter, Watcher? I told you I’m one of the ‘white hats’ now a days!”
The trip to the convent didn’t take very long. Introducing Giles to the Mother Superior, collecting his things, writing a note to Father Boulard, only took a little longer. It had already turned dark as they were getting ready to leave, but the Mother Superior stopped them at the door and insisted on blessing Spike and his journey before he could go. Giles was impressed, but his men were almost in a state of shock. None of them had been in the room the night before, so none of them had known about his new immunity to Crosses, Holy Water, and Blessings. Jennings was the only one who didn’t have his mouth hanging open. Jennings was to old and to jaded to be shocked by much of anything. But he did look at Spike with a higher degree of respect afterwards.
By the time they got to the airport it was only ten minutes before the scheduled takeoff. Being a private plane, and due to Giles ‘Council’ connections, they didn’t even have to go through Customs. A man met them at the plane, stamped all of the proper papers, and didn’t ask any questions. As soon as they were all on board and seated, the plane taxied out onto the runway and left the ground on time. The plane was owned by the Council and could carry up to twelve passenger, plus it had a fairly large cargo area at the rear of the plane behind a bulkhead. Giles had Jennings and his men take the seats farthest to the front, while he motioned Spike to move to the seats farthest to the rear. The distance between them, plus the noise of the plane was a fairly good guarantee that the conversation that Spike and Giles were about to have would not be over heard by anyone.
Being a private plane, the seating wasn’t set up like a typical passenger carrier. There were eight seats, set two, side by side, on each side of a narrow passageway, making up two rows of seats. Behind these seats was a small galley for preparing meals in-flight. Past the galley was a small area with two seats facing each other on each side of the passageway. At the back of the cabin, up against the bulkhead, was a lavatory. The bulkhead had a pressurized door that led into the cargo area that made up the rear half of the airplane. When Spike had entered the rear seating area he noticed immediately that there were large ashtrays built into the walls between the facing seats and that there were small exhaust fans built in to draw the smoke out of the cabin. Spike thought to himself that this area was probably normally used by Council members to have private conversations and smoke their cigars. Not asking for permission, Spike pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one up as he took a seat. Giles took the seat facing him and made no comment, except to turn on the exhaust fan.
****
Although Spike wanted Giles to start telling him what was going on, why Dawn needed him, as soon as they sat down. Giles refuse to do so. He told Spike that he had to fill him in on some background information first. Information that started with his leaving Sunnydale. Just hearing this, that the story started with his leaving Sunnydale had Spikes soul squirming. A muscle in his cheek started to twitch as he clamped his jaws tightly together.
As the plane lifted off and gained altitude, Giles sat in his seat, fidgeting. Watching Giles squirm in his seat, preparing himself to speak, then stopping, then almost starting again, had Spike on edge. Hoping it would help, and get things moving, Spike reached back into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes and lighter set them on the edge of the large ashtray. Giles hesitated for a few moments, then reaching out withdrew a cigarette from the pack and used the lighter to light it. Sitting back in his seat he let the cigarette calm his nerves for a few moments before he started speaking.
“Almost immediately after you left Sunnydale things started happening, horrendous things.” Seeing Spikes eyes widening, Giles quickly added “None of which were your fault, nor do I think, could or would have been changed by your presence.” Pausing for a few moments to take another draw off his cigarette, Giles then continued. “There was a small group of humans, they fancied themselves to be ‘Super Villains’, that wanted to become rich and powerful in Sunnydale. For whatever reasons they had, they felt that Buffy would be an obstacle to their goals. Possibly because they used a mixture of science and magic, and could also raise demons to do their bidding. The leader of their group was a misogynistic bastard that had previously murdered his former girlfriend and through the use of magic had convinced Buffy for a short period of time that she had killed the girl.”
Hearing Giles words brought to memory the girl and circumstances that Giles was speaking of immediately. They also brought forth the memory of what happened when Spike had tried to stop Buffy from turning herself into the police and confessing that she had killed the girl. Buffy had beaten him to a bloody broken pulp and had left him in an alley to die when the sun came up. If it hadn’t been for a demon that thought it owed Spike a small favor, dragging his body down the alley and tossing him down a stairwell which kept him out of the rising sun, he’d have dusted for certain. Spike had laid at the bottom of that stairwell all day and well into the night, to hurt to move. By the time he was able to drag himself up the stairwell and back to his crypt it was nearly morning again. The pain of that memory, Buffy walking away, leaving him to die, had haunted Spikes dreams on numerous occasions.
Seeing the pained look in Spikes eyes at the mention of the girls death and how Buffy had been tricked into thinking she had killed the girl, Giles misinterpreted the reasons for the pain in Spikes eyes. “It turned out alright Spike” Giles said gently, “at least that part of it anyway. Apparently, Buffy discovered almost immediately after arriving at the police station who the girl was and realized that she hadn’t been the one responsible for her death.” Giles paused for a few moments before he continued. “I had thought that you were still in Sunnydale when that part of this story occurred. Perhaps I’m mistaken?”
“No, Watcher, your not mistaken” Spike said, his voice raspy with suppressed emotions. “I was still there. The Slayer didn’t always fill me in on the little things though, didn’t like me in her business.”
“Yes, well, um.” Giles paused, his mind turning over what he had just said to Spike and Spikes response. Giles knew a great deal about the relationship Buffy had with Spike during that period of time. In fact, much more than he had ever wanted to know. But it came to him right then that there were many things he didn’t know. Things that might be important. But this wasn’t the time to go into them. There were more important things to discuss at the moment. But, he told himself, he should remember to question Buffy about it later.
“Ah, yes, to continue.” Giles paused again, looking at Spike he could see that he was under a lot of stress and decided to make a long story shorter. “Spike, I could spend hours telling you all the details of this story, but at this time I don’t think you would really be interested it them. What I’m going to do is give you the brief, condensed version, for now. I promise you that I will fill in the details later and answer any questions you might have, if that is agreeable to you?”
“Yeah, sure Watcher” Spike said, his voice showing his stress clearly. “Just get to the part about Dawn, will you?”
Giles then proceeded to tell Spike that just a day or two after his leaving Sunnydale, Buffy was able to thwart a robbery by this group of human villains and captured two of it’s members. The leader, Warren, was able to make his escape. Seeking revenge he bought a gun and shot Buffy, wounding her. A wild shot struck Tara and killed her. Willow was able to save Buffy, but because of her overwhelming grief over the loss of Tara, Willow went ‘crazy’ and sought revenge. Using the powers of ‘dark magic’ Willow hunted Warren down and killed him. She then went after Warrens accomplices, who were in jail and had nothing to do with the death of Tara. Buffy got them out of the jail and away from Willow. Needing more power, Willow sought out a ‘dark magic’ dealer by the name of Rack and sucked all of his magic out of him, killing him. She then proceeded to nearly destroy the Magic Box, attempted to kill Xander and Warrens two accomplices, threatened to kill Dawn, tried to kill Buffy, and was only stopped from doing all of these things by the intervention of Anya casting a spell over and over so that Willow couldn’t use her full powers. Giles then told of his arrival, how the witches in the coven at Devon had felt the disturbance and had given him powers to fight Willow. Even so, Willows powers were greater and she nearly killed Giles, but decided to destroy the world instead. It was only by the intervention of Xander that the world wasn’t destroyed. Somehow he was able to talk Willow back to ‘sanity’ and her ‘dark powers’ drained out of her.
Spike listened to everything Giles said to him and was able to hold on to his control of himself, mainly because he was able to realize that whatever had happened, had occurred almost three year previously. Although learning of the death of Tara had brought pain to his heart, he’d always liked the gentle witch, Spike knew that everyone else had survived. Knowing this made it possible for him to keep his face blank, hiding his feelings and emotions from Giles.
Giles had watched Spike closely as he told him what had occurred shortly after he’d left Sunnydale. Spikes lack of response puzzled him. But, seeing no other choice, he continued with his narrative. He told Spike that with Willows powers drained, they sedated her, and as soon as Giles was able to travel he took Willow to England. There in Devon the witch’s coven helped her with her grief and taught her how to control her powers and not let her powers control her. Giles remained in England and provided support for Willow. By the time they returned to Sunnydale, problems between Dawn and Buffy had grown up and were nearly insurmountable.
Apparently, with Willow gone, Anya refusing to have anything to do with him, and Buffy spending long hours working and patrolling, Xander was feeling exceptionally lonely. One night he came by Buffys home before she got off work, thinking he could go on patrol with her and was talking with Dawn while he waited. Dawn had been feeling the loss of so many people out of her life, her mother, Tara, Willow, Giles, Anya, and Spike. Somehow in her talk with Xander she expressed the wish that Spike would return, because she missed him. Xander, not thinking, blurted out that Spike was never going to return, not if he wanted to continue to exist. Dawn jumped on Xanders remark, declaring that Spike was her best friend. Xanders anger overstepped his good sense, he started ranting about Spike being a soulless monster that should have been dusted years ago, because if he had, he’d never have had the chance to try to rape Buffy.
Spikes reaction, to Giles last words, was devastation. His eyes widened as they filled with pain, his mouth dropped open and a wail of anguish filled the cabin. He lurched up out of his seat, stumbling forward on legs of rubber until he reached a corner of the cabin. He collapsed to his knees, bent over with his face into the corner, his arms wrapped up around his head. Low sobs and moaning sounds filled the air.
Jennings and his men responded to Spikes wail of pain and rushed to the rear of the airplane cabin to investigate. Giles headed them off and quietly sent them back to their seats after assuring them he was safe. Giles took the seat that Spike had been sitting in so that he could keep his eyes on him. Only once before had Giles seen Spike so overwhelmed by grief, when Buffy leapt from the tower and died. It was as if Giles had deliberately destroyed the last vestige of something precious before Spikes very eyes. The pain of the loss seemed to have broken Spike open, allowing his grief to spill out onto the floor for all to see.
For the rest of the flight from Germany to England, Spike remained in the corner, crying out his pain. Even after the plane landed, he remained in the corner. Giles approached him reluctantly and gently touched his shoulder. When Spike stiffened under the touch, Giles withdrew his hand. Speaking quietly, he said “Spike, the clean-up crew will be coming aboard shortly, to prepare the plane for another flight. We need to leave now, before they arrive.”
Spike nodded his head slightly and pushed himself away from the corner. Turning his face toward Giles, he asked, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion. “How could he do that, Watcher? How could he tell her like that, I though he cared for her?” Spike paused, sucking in several deep breaths. “Does she hate me Rupert? Does she hate me for what I did, what I tried to do?”
When Spike turned his face toward him, Giles almost gasped. Spikes face looked gray and drawn, he looked as if he had aged twenty years. Tear tracks marred his face, his eyes were red and puffy, emotional pain radiated off of him in waves. Glancing down at Spikes hands, Giles could see that they were fisted so tightly that the bones stood out, the muscles in his forearms were ridged like twisted ropes. Realizing that what he was about to say could save or destroy Spike, Giles chose his words carefully. “Spike, of all of us involved in this drama, Dawn still loves and trusts you, above all others. Dawn loves and trusts you, Spike. Believe me, I swear it’s true. She also needs you very badly right now. She needs your strength and your courage, but most of all, she needs you to make her feel safe again.”
Hearing the first words Giles spoke was like a balm to Spikes soul. Hearing the rest of what he said told Spike that something worse was yet to come. That Dawn needed ‘him’ to make her feel ‘safe again’ brought forth every protective feeling within him. If Dawn needed him, if she needed his strength and courage, if she needed anything from him at all, he would give everything within him to her, for her, even his life. Bringing his hands to his face, Spike scrubbed at his face with his fingers, wiping away his tears. He placed one hand against the wall and using it for balance rose to his feet. Taking in deep breaths he brought himself under control of his emotions. Twisting his head until his neck popped, then shaking his head vigorously, like a dog shaking off water, Spike fought his way to full control of himself. Giving his shoulders a shake to settle himself, Spike looked over at Giles and with a blank, emotionless face, asked “There’s worse to come, right Watcher?”
Giles nodded his head to Spike, then said “Much worse, Spike. I will tell you the important parts as soon as we get off this plane and find a place to sit down. I will give you all of the details, as I know them, when you want them.”
Spike led the way off the plane and as soon as they hit fresh air he lit a cigarette. The plane, not being a regular commercial airliner, wasn’t parked with the other commercial planes, it was parked in front of a private hangar owned by the Council. Spike followed Giles across the tarmac into the hangar, through a door, down a hallway, through another door and into an empty office. Spike had barely sat down and Giles had yet to move behind the desk and take a seat when there was a knock on the door. Giles went back to the door and opening it found Jennings standing there with two hot steaming mugs in his hands. “Tea, Sir? Thought you might like some about now.”
“Why, yes Jennings. Thank you very much.” Giles responded, taking one of the mugs of tea from Jennings.
Jennings stepped into the room and facing toward Spike lifted the second mug into his view. “You, Sir? A cuppa might do you right well, pick you up in no time.”
Spike appreciated the offer, especially from Jennings. Jennings was an old Council hand and, unless he was ordered to do so, for him to offer Spike anything but a wooden stake to the heart meant something. “Yes, thank you.” Spike mumbled out, still to emotionally drained to make proper conversation.
While Spike was taking sips of tea from his mug, Jennings talked to Giles. “If it’s alright with you, Sir, unless you need them for something else, I’ll be sending the men on home now. I’ll have them drop your baggage off at the main terminal first, then let them go.”
“Well, yes Jennings, that would be fine.” Giles responded. “You can go to if you want, there’s no reason for you to stay any longer than necessary.”
“No Sir, I’ll stay with you till your on the plane. Keep track of time, fetch more tea, see that you head off to the terminal on schedule ” Jennings replied. Then turning in place he marched out the door and closed it behind him.
Spike smiled wearily at Giles and said, “Treats you a bit like a junior officer, afraid you’ll get lost without him to hold your hand.”
Giles returned Spikes smile, his own just as weary. He carried his mug over to the desk and sat down in the chair behind it. Taking a few small sips of the hot tea, he let the warmth spread through him. After sitting for at least a full minute, Giles looked up to see Spikes eyes focused on him, waiting.
Taking a breath, then letting it out, Giles picked up the story where he had left off. Xander had blurted out what Spike had tried to do to Buffy. Dawn refused to believe him and was yelling at him, calling him a liar, telling him to get out of her house. That’s when Buffy walked into the house. Dawn confronted her immediately and demanded that she call Xander a liar. When Buffy wouldn’t say anything, to confirm or deny what Xander had said, Dawn called her a ‘Bitch’ and ran up to her room. Buffy confronted Xander, telling him he’d had no right to say anything to Dawn, that he didn’t know what happened and it wasn’t any of his business anyway. Buffy told him to leave her home, then went up to try to talk to Dawn.
Dawn had her door locked that night and refused to talk to Buffy. The next morning she left the house early and went to her school and signed up for a full load of summer school classes. For the rest of the summer, Dawn spent all of her time either at school or in her room. She refused to speak to Buffy unless forced to, and refused to call her Buffy, calling her ‘Bitch’ or ‘Slayer’ instead. Apparently Buffy got tired of this and confronted Dawn. Losing her temper she grabbed Dawn by the arm and shook her. Dawn screamed in her face and asked Buffy if she was going to use her Slayer powers and beat her up, like she’d beat Spike up. Buffy had let her go and Dawn stormed off to her room. When Dawn had her birthday later that summer, Buffy bought her an expensive gift she couldn’t really afford, Dawn threw it at her without even looking at it. The relationship between the two of them only got worse after that.
Giles had kept his eyes on Spike to see how he was reacting to this information. By looking at Spikes face it would have been impossible to register any effect at all. But Giles noticed that Spike was gripping his tea mug with enough strength to make the bones and muscles in his hand stand out.
The new high school, rebuilt on the same spot as the old high school, right over the Hellmouth, opened that school year. Dawn signed up for extra classes that year and continued to spend as much time as possible either at school or in her room. Anya had the repairs to the Magic Box completed that summer and reopened the store. She was also back in business as a vengeance demon. Xander was cut off from everyone he cared about and spent all of his time working long hours, even taking contracts outside of Sunnydale. Buffy quit her job at the Double Meat Palace and got a job as a waitress. She was working less hours, but with tips was making more money. With the start of a new semester at UC-Sunnydale, Buffy signed up for one class to continue her education. Everyone was going their own way, no one was talking to each other, by the time Giles brought Willow back to Sunnydale the situation was almost irreparable.
Giles told Spike it had only taken him two days to realize what a deplorable situation everyone was in and to confront Buffy on what was going on. In an emotion filled session lasting four hours, Buffy told Giles all that had happened since he had left for England with Willow, and then all that had happened with Spike from the time she returned from her grave until Spike left town. She told him how she had used Spike to make herself feel something after her return, but had physically and emotionally abused him whenever he tried to express his feelings for her. She told him how Spike had come to her to apologize for hurting her by having sex with Anya. How she had turned her anger on him, flaying him with her words. How he had grabbed hold of her, begging her to admit that there was something between them, that she had some feelings for him. How the situation had gotten out of hand and Spike had tried to force himself on her. How she had stopped him, and how she had torn him to emotional shreds, sending him running from her home, and Sunnydale. How Xander had found her sitting on the bathroom floor and had immediately assumed that Spike had raped her, or had attempted to rape her. Which is what led up to Xander telling Dawn, which led to Dawn not talking to any of them, and blaming Buffy for everything.
There were other things that Buffy had told Giles that day, and several times later. But none of those things were his business to share with Spike. As Buffy had said many times, what happened between her and Spike was their business and no one else’s. If Buffy ever chose to share these things with Spike, that would be her choice and her business.
Giles told how he had counseled Buffy that she needed to tell all these things to Dawn and make her understand what had happened, or she would loose any possibility of a reconciliation with Dawn. Buffy had pleaded that she couldn’t tell Dawn, that she was to young to be told such things. Giles had reminded Buffy that Dawn was the same age she was when she came to Sunnydale as the Slayer, became romantically involved with a vampire, and died the first time. Reluctantly Buffy had agreed to tell Dawn, if Giles would talk to her first.
Giles explained how he had first gone to Dawn and explained to her about the relationship between Spike and Buffy, then Buffy had joined them and reluctantly filled in some of the details. How Dawn had moderated her behavior and attitude toward Buffy after their conversation, she stopped calling Buffy ‘Bitch’ and ‘Slayer’, but still held her mostly responsible for Spike leaving Sunnydale. The one thing that Dawn had refused to moderate was her feelings and attitude toward Xander. In the nearly three years since Xander had told her that Spike had tried to rape Buffy, Dawn had refused to talk to him or to allow him to talk to her. Dawn had closed a door on Xander, and locked it behind her.
Giles went on to tell Spike that Dawn had continued to carry on with her studies, taking extra classes each year and attending summer school each summer. By the previous fall, Dawn had completed all of her high school studies and graduated in December. She had also carried such a high grade point average that she earned a full scholarship to UCLA, that began in January of this year. Two days after the New Year started, Giles had driven Dawn up to the UCLA campus and had helped her move into her assigned dorm room. Dawn was excited and looking forward to her new life at college and away from Sunnydale and the Hellmouth.
Spike had been listening to Giles intently as he told him about Dawn and how she had reacted to the news of his attempted rape of Buffy. Having Giles tell him earlier that Dawn didn’t hate him for what he’d tried to do to Buffy had eased his soul to a great degree. But hearing that Dawn had blamed Buffy for what happened brought much of the pain back. That he was the cause of this rift between them burned into his soul. Spike had relived that night a thousand times, over and over again, and he could never make himself blame Buffy for what had happened. He could only blame himself, and the ‘monster’ within him. He had told Buffy that he loved her, and even though he had never said the words outright, he had implicitly promised that he would never hurt her. The fact that he had let the ‘monster’ within him take over, even if it was only for a few crazed moments, and let it hurt her, that was what drove Spike away from Buffy. He had seen it in her eyes that night, her hate, her anger, her fear. In all the years that Spike had known Buffy, even when they were trying to kill each other, she had never been afraid of him. She knew he was dangerous, she respected his potential as an enemy, but she had never been afraid. And in one moment, while declaring his love for her he’d tried to force her to love him, and had made her afraid of him. It was the fear in her eyes that drove him away, the fear that haunted his dreams, the fear that burned his soul every time he thought of her.
Learning that Dawn had cut the ‘whelp’ out of her life had given Spike a brief moment of satisfaction. But his conscience, if not his soul, gave him a twinge. As much as he had always disliked Harris, Spike felt bad that he had been the reason for the breaking up of their friendship. He knew that friendship had been important to Dawn at one time. That Dawn would stay mad at him for so long, to never forgive him, there must be more to the story than Giles had told him.
Hearing how well Dawn had done in school, graduating early, earning a scholarship, made Spike feel proud of her. Not that he had a right to feel that way, it wasn’t as if he’d had anything to do with it. But still, the pride was there, and even his soul didn’t begrudge him that small feeling.
But Giles had stopped talking now. He was sitting with his head bowed, staring at his hands, hands that were clenched together. Spike knew that the crux of the story, the reason that Dawn needed him was at hand. He could tell that Giles was stalling, or maybe not stalling, just reluctant, afraid, to tell the story to the end.
Taking his cigarettes out of his pocket, Spike lit one up. He then tossed the pack and lighter onto the desk in front of Giles. Steeling himself, locking his emotions down tight, Spike watched Giles as he fumbled a cigarette out of the pack and lit it up. “This is it, right Watcher?” Spikes voice was tight and raspy. “Something happened to Dawn? This is what it’s all about, why you came for me?” When Giles lifted his head to look at Spike, the pain in his eyes was like a blade of molten steel cutting Spike open. Spike swallowed down his fear and nearly choking on the words, said “Tell me, Watcher, tell me the worst of it.”
Giles took a final pull on his cigarette and stubbing it out in the ashtray, steeled himself before he spoke. “Dawn was drugged, abducted, beaten and raped for three days, before she escaped.”
The last words were still in Giles mouth when Spike lurched to his feet. His arms and hands reached up, as if to heaven, his hands clenched into fists, and a roar of pain so profound, so soulful, tore from his lungs. He stood there shaking, trembling, tears flowing from his unseeing eyes. His eyes turned a burning shade of gold, his features morphed, his fangs extended, a vampire in a full blood rage emerged. Death stood in that room, roaring with pain, crying for love.
When the door slammed open and Jennings entered with his taser in his hand, Giles stepped quickly from behind his desk and prevented him from using it. Giles pushed him back toward the door and told him urgently to go find something to drink, anything, one bottle, two bottles, whatever he could find, but as quickly as possible. Spike hadn’t even been aware of Jennings entering the room or of Giles moving from behind his desk. Spike was so far lost in the pain he was feeling he wasn’t aware of anything else but the pain. He would have roared again, but he was to far gone to draw air into his lungs. He would have killed anything that moved in front of him, but his eyes were unseeing. Thoughts of rage would have consumed him, but his mind was to filled with pain to think.
Several minutes had passed, Giles wasn’t sure how many, when Jennings rushed back through the door. He had one half full bottle of something in one hand and a full bottle of something else in the other. Giles grabbed the full one and started stripping the seal off. Jennings was speaking while he did this. “Those were on the plane, Sir. Do you want me to get more? Should I stay with you, Sir?”
“No, no Jennings, go get more, whatever you can, but do it quickly.” Giles said in a rush. “I should have prepared for this, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Jennings set the half full bottle on the desk, then turned and hurried from the room. Giles got the cap off the bottle he was holding, then cautiously moved toward Spike. Giles was greatly afraid that Spike might be to far gone to recognize him and might lash out at him in his pain and rage. But Giles also knew that he couldn’t leave Spike standing there like that, suffering the ravages of hell, it would be inhuman. Standing back as far as he could, but holding out the bottle of whiskey within Spikes reach, Giles spoke his name “Spike!” When Spike didn’t respond, Giles spoke louder, in a more demanding tone “Spike!” This time Giles voice penetrated Spikes consciousness and his head swiveled in Giles direction. Spike was still in full vampire mode when he locked eyes with Giles. Feeling in more danger than he had ever felt in his life, Giles lifted the bottle of whiskey up to Spikes eye level. Spikes hand snapped out and ripped the bottle from Giles hand and brought it to his mouth. Tipping his head back he started swallowing down the whiskey until the bottle was empty. When that bottle was empty, Spike let it drop to the floor to shatter, turning his head toward Giles again, the second bottle was already being held out to him. Snatching that bottle, Spike brought it to his lips and drank till it was empty also.
As the second bottle of whiskey emptied, Spike lowered it from his lips slowly. Like melting ice, his face morphed back to human. His eyes remained a golden yellow, but they were duller now, no longer lit with rage. Stepping back, until the backs of his legs hit the chair, Spike dropped. Letting the bottle in his hand slip from his fingers, it dropped to the floor. Bending forward, placing his elbows on his knees, Spike buried his face in his hands and started crying, silently. His whole body was shaking, but no sound escaped him. Tears that had run down his face, dripped off his chin and fell to the floor. If a doorway to Hell had opened in the floor, Spike would have stepped through it gladly.
Giles had moved back to the desk and was half leaning, half sitting on the edge of it. He kept his eyes on Spike, watching his tears drip down to the floor. He remembered his own reaction when he had learned what had happened to Dawn. How he had shed his own tears of pain and sorrow. But Giles recognized immediately that the level of pain he had felt over what had happened to Dawn in no way compared with what Spike was going through right now. Not since the death of Jenny Calendar had Giles felt that level of pain. Not even the death of Buffy had touched him that deeply, and the death of Buffy had nearly broken him. What this level of grief was doing to Spike was incalculable. How, and whether he would be able to pull himself out of his grief was an unknown.
A noise at the door drew Giles attention. Jennings was standing there with another bottle of whiskey. When Giles approached the door, Jennings spoke quietly “This is all I could find, Sir. I had to break into the infirmary to get it. If you want more I’ll have to go over to the main terminal, and that will take at least a half hour or more. What do you want me to do, Sir?”
Before Giles could respond, Spikes voice, sounding gravelly and hoarse, came from behind him. “Let it go, Rupert. Don’t have time for a proper drunk. You still have to tell me what I need to know.”
Taking the bottle from Jennings, Giles turned around to face Spike. He was just then scrubbing the tears from his face with his hands. Jennings backed out the door while Giles opened the bottle of whiskey. Tipping his head back, Giles took a large swallow of the whiskey, then set the bottle down on the desk close to Spike. Walking around the desk he sat down in his chair and picking up Spikes cigarettes he pulled one out and using the lighter lit it up. He then set the cigarettes and lighter down next to the bottle of whiskey.
Spike pushed himself to his feet and using one foot kicked the broken glass on the floor out of his way. He picked up his cigarettes and put one in his mouth, then lit it. Picking up the bottle, he took a drink from it, then stepped back and sat down in his chair. Looking even worst than he had on the plane, his face gray and haggard, Spike spoke again. “Tell me what happened, Rupert. Tell me what was done about it.”
“I’ll tell you Spike, but I swear I don’t know how much more of this you can take” Giles said softly, real concern was in his voice.
“I’ll survive it Rupert, vampire here.” Spikes voice sounded empty. “We don’t have real feelings, remember.”
“Yes, I remember Spike” Giles said with a note of bitterness in his voice, “and one day I’d like to have a conversation with the bloody wanker that started that fabrication.”
Spike met Giles eyes and tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. Taking another drink from the bottle of whiskey, Spike sat back in his chair, waiting.
“Alright Spike, here’s the hard and fast version. I took Dawn up to the UCLA campus on Tuesday morning and helped her settle in. Because she was coming into the school at mid year they had to place her where room was available. What that meant was they placed her with a girl who was two years older than her. The girl arrived Friday morning and moved in with Dawn. The girl started talking to Dawn almost immediately about going to a fraternity house party that night and wanted Dawn to go with her. Dawn was reluctant to go, but didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with her new roommate, so she agreed to go for a little while. Once they got to the party, which apparently was quite large, the girl went off for a few minutes, leaving Dawn alone. When the girl returned she handed Dawn a drink, telling her it was just soda. Dawn drank about half of the drink and started feeling dizzy. She looked for her roommate and when she couldn’t find her started to leave on her own. Two young men took her by the arms and walked her down a hallway and down some stairs. Dawn was to disoriented to resist them.”
“Most of what happened after that is even more confused, because once the young men had her down stairs they forced her to drink something that made her even more disoriented. What she can remember is that one or two of the young men started pulling at her cloths. When she tried to stop them, to resist, they started hitting her. That is mostly what Dawn can remember for the next couple of days. She doesn’t remember how many young men beat her and raped her, all she can truly remember is the pain and confusion. She remembers that there were a large number of men, but she doesn’t know if it was a small group of the same men over and over or if it was a large group of men. On the third night of her captivity, apparently because of the battered condition Dawn was in by that time, they didn’t give her enough drugs to incapacitate her for the whole night. Late in the morning hours Dawn was able to walk and crawl her way out of the basement of the fraternity house. Walking and crawling she made her way to a drainage ditch about a mile from the fraternity house. An early morning jogger spotted her in the ditch and called the police. She was rushed to a hospital emergency room for extensive care. She had been beaten and burned all over her body, had several teeth knocked out, and had a number of broken ribs. When Dawn escaped she was only able to find her pants and her jacket. Fortunately for Dawn, Buffy had sewn a tag inside of her jacket that had her name and home phone number, she had no other identification on her.”
“By the time Buffy and I arrive at the campus hospital, Dawn had been moved from the emergency room to a hospital room. The police were there and although Dawn was heavily medicated for pain she was able to tell the police what she could remember. Four hours later a police detective arrived and talked to Buffy and I about the situation. The detective and several police officers had gone to the fraternity house to investigate. They could find no proof that anything Dawn had told them had occurred. One of the basement rooms smelled as if it had just been freshly scrubbed clean, but it was next to the laundry room so they couldn’t be certain. A number of the young men at the fraternity house testified that they did remember Dawn coming to their party on Friday night. They all stated that Dawn had gotten drunk, had made passes at a number of young men and had been asked to leave because of her behavior and abusive language.”
“One of the young men stated that he had seen Dawn outside the fraternity house sharing a bottle with several men that were not members of the fraternity and he had seen her get into a car with them and drive off. To add to the story, Dawns roommate had gone to the campus housing office first thing that morning and had requested that Dawn be moved to a different room. The roommate claimed that Dawn was too wild and sluttish for this girl to room with and had told the woman at campus housing that Dawn had taken off the previous Friday night with a group of men and hadn’t returned to the dorm room since that night. When the police questioned the roommate she made the same statement to them and claimed that she had also seen Dawn get into a car with a group of men that the girl did not know, but felt that from the way they acted and dressed that they were not students of the college. The girl had claimed that they were more likely just unknown strangers from the city trying to crash a campus party or pick up girls like Dawn.”
“The detective also told them that the fraternity had a law firm to protect their reputation and that if Dawn tried to malign the name of the fraternity house, the Delta Zeta Kappas, or any of the members of the fraternity, they would file suit against her and petition the college board to revoke her scholarship. The detective told us the name of the law firm was Wolfram & Hart, and that they were very big and very powerful in Los Angeles. The detective told us that Dawn could file charges if she chose to, but there was very little chance of the case going to trial, especially with so many witnesses against her. The detective told them that he’d seen cases like this before, and with no witnesses to support her story and no proof, the police couldn’t do any more than they had already done.”
When Giles stopped talking, Spike could tell that the story wasn’t over yet. When Giles asked him for a cigarette he knew he was right. Once he had the cigarette lit, Giles smoked it without saying anything for a minute or more, then looking up at Spike with his anger clearly showing, he continued. “Buffy blames herself for what happened to Dawn, at least partly. When Buffy was in high school she went to a fraternity party with Cordelia Chase. The fraternity was the Delta Zeta Kappas, which turned out to be demon worshipers that killed young women in order to gain favors from the demon. Buffy killed the demon and we all thought the fraternity was abolished from existence. Buffy never told Dawn about that instance in her life, because she wasn’t very proud of it. Buffy felt afterwards that if she had told Dawn about the fraternity and what had happened to her, Dawn would have never gone to the party in the first place.”
Giles paused again as he smoked his cigarette, then putting it out, continued. “We contacted Angel to see if he could be of any help to us, investigate the fraternity house, give us information about this law firm, Wolfram & Hart. Angel told us immediately that the law firm was know in the demon world as ‘Evil, Incorporated’ and that they represented the ‘Senior Partners’ in this plane of existence, a mystical entity much like the ‘Powers That Be’, only evil. He did some investigating over the next couple of weeks and informed us that Dawns roommate started driving a brand new BMW red convertible by the end of the week Dawn was hurt, and that she suddenly received a full scholarship, funded by Wolfram & Hart. He couldn’t come up with any information about the young men in the fraternity house, except that all of them came from rich families and that all of their fathers had also been members of Delta Zeta Kappas. Angel told us that he had been butting heads with Wolfram & Hart for years and that they had tried to kill him a number of times. He informed Buffy and I that the only way to protect Dawn from them was to keep her far away from them.”
Giles got up from his chair and started pacing the floor behind the desk. He came around the desk and taking the bottle of whiskey from Spike took a large drink and handed it back. He next asked for another cigarette and after lighting it started pacing again.
Spike watched Giles pace and knew he was stalling again. Unable to take the strain of anymore delays, Spike spoke up. “All right, Watcher, enough.” Spikes voice was still hoarse and sharper that he intended. “Now tell me what Buffy wants, what Dawn needs from me. You know I’m more than willing to go into that fraternity house and slaughter everyone in it, and that bloody bint too. But I’m certain you didn’t come all the way over here to get me to do that deed for you. I’m also certain that Buffy wouldn’t consider that a favor, killing humans for her.” Spikes voice had been rising and when he got to the end he was almost shouting “So tell me ‘what the bloody hell’ Buffy wants from me. What am I suppose to do for Dawn.”
Giles had stopped pacing when Spike started talking. Seeing the state Spike was in, Giles knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. Standing up straight he looked at Spike and in a soft voice, that still leaked the pain he was feeling, Giles told him. “The experience of all that Dawn went through, it shattered her Spike, broke her. In the hospital, because of all the pain she was feeling and the heavy medications she was under, we didn’t realize it at first. But as Dawn became more coherent, able to understand what was happening, the truth of what had happened to her overwhelmed her. Finding out that the police were not going to be able to do anything to the people who hurt her, that in fact if she tried to do anything herself she would be sued, it was all to much. Dawn became hysterical for several days and had to be medicated. She stopped talking to any of the hospital staff, became deathly afraid if any male staff came anywhere near her, and cried for hours at a time. She was in the hospital for ten days before we could bring her home to Sunnydale. Once we got her home, her condition became even worse. She became paranoid that the young men from the fraternity house were going to come after her. She locked herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. She started having nightmares and flashbacks to what had happened to her. We tried to get her to leave the house, to see a counselor, someone who knew how to help rape victims. But she refused to leave the house. The only way we could have gotten her out of the house would have been to force her, and Buffy couldn’t do it. Dawn would have fought anyone trying to make her leave the house and Buffy couldn’t risk hurting her, she just couldn’t do it.”
In a fit of temper, Giles turned away from Spike and kicked the heavy wooden desk as hard as he could, which didn’t hurt the desk at all, but sent waves of pain through Giles foot and leg. Seeing Giles pain, and understanding that it wasn’t the pain in his foot that was hurting him, Spike offered the bottle of whiskey to Giles. Giles took the bottle and drank off a large swallow. He then asked for another cigarette and after lighting it up he started talking again.
“We all started taking turns staying in the house with Dawn, all except Xander of course. Dawn would go into hysterics if he even entered the house and she became aware of it. Buffy dropped her classes at UC-Sunnydale, but she still had to work and patrol. Dawn was slipping deeper into depression and having nightmares whenever she slept that woke her up screaming. About the middle of February Dawn discovered something in Buffys room. Were not certain what Dawn was looking for in Buffys room, but what she found was your duster.” The shock that passed over Spikes face spoke volumes inside Giles mind.
“Apparently, when you left Sunnydale you left your duster behind. Instead of throwing it away or destroying it, Buffy hid it away in her closet. When Dawn found your duster, she put it on and has barely taken it off since. Since that day, although the nightmares have continued, when Dawn cries out in her sleep she cries out for you. She begs for you to come home to her, to help her, to save her. Buffy had been going to see a counselor that deals with rape victims trying to get helpful information that would let her help Dawn. The counselor told Buffy that if there was someone that Dawn felt could help her, make her feel safe, then Buffy should try to get that person to visit Dawn, to see if they could break through her depression.”
“That is why Buffy asked me, a month ago, to try to find you. To ask you to come back to Sunnydale, to help Dawn. I have kept in contact with Buffy over the past month, to apprise her of my progress in searching for you, and to keep updated on Dawns condition. Since my departure, Dawn has covered all of her windows to keep out any sunlight. She now sleeps on the floor between her bed and the wall in a nest of blankets and your duster. Two weeks ago she went on a rampage in the middle of the night and broke almost every mirror in the house. Her paranoia has gotten worse, she will only eat food from a can and only if she opens the can herself, she thinks the young men from the fraternity house are trying to poison her. Buffy said that she’s lost so much weight she’s wasting away.” Giles paused, his voice to choked with emotion to continue. When he did speak again, his voice was a hoarse whisper. “Buffy said to tell you that she knows she has no right to ask you for any favors, but if you have any feelings at all left for Dawn, she’s begging you to come back to Sunnydale, for Dawn.”
Of all the reactions that Giles might have expected from Spike, the one he got was the one he never expected. Spike broke out into laughter. Giles immediate reaction was to become angry. An anger so hot that his ‘Ripper’ persona surged to the forefront. His face twisted with hatred, he balled his fist tightly and took a step toward Spike, ready to smash his fists against his face. But at the last moment his ‘Watcher’ persona noticed something that stopped him cold. Spike was laughing, but it wasn’t the laughter of someone who thought something was funny, it was the laughter of someone so emotionally overwhelmed that they had become hysterical. Tears were flowing from Spikes eyes, his face was twisted in a grimace of pain, the laughter coming from his throat sounded as if it were tearing him to shreds. Spike was gasping to draw air into his lungs, he was almost convulsing in his chair. Looking into Spikes eyes Giles could see the pain in them, a pain so intense it frightened him. Not knowing where he got the courage to do it, Giles reached out and grabbed Spikes shoulder, shook him, and said sharply “Spike!”.
At the sound of his name, the laughter broke off. Tears continued to flow down his cheeks as Spike sucked his lungs full of air. He stopped convulsing and slowly his body stopped trembling. Several minutes passed before the expression of pain faded from his face and eyes. Giles had released his hold on Spikes shoulder and had taken a step back. Spike raised his hands to his face and scrubbed the tears from his eyes and face. Looking up at Giles standing over him, Spike said in a voice that sounded hollow. “God, Rupert! If your trying to kill me, I wish you’d just use a stake.” After pausing for several moments to gather himself together, Spike asked “Is there any more I need to know right now?”
Seeing how emotionally exhausted Spike was, and feeling nearly as drained himself, Giles answered. “No, Spike. I’ve told you everything that’s important concerning Dawn. I could fill you in on the details a little more, but nothing important.”
Spike nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement. Reaching out he picked up the bottle of whiskey from the little table next to his chair where he had set it down. Looking up at Giles he lifted the bottle as if offering it to Giles. When Giles shook his head ‘no’, Spike raised the bottle to his lips and tilting his head back he drank from the bottle until it was empty. Setting it back down on the little table, he fished into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. Taking one from the pack he lit it with his lighter then offered the cigarettes to Giles. Giles took a cigarette from the pack and using the lighter, lit it. Together they smoked in silence, neither one having the strength to say anymore.
When Spike finished his cigarette he dropped it on the floor and stepped on it. Raising his hands to his face he scrubbed them over his eyes and face. Looking at Giles who had moved over to the desk to put out his own cigarette in the ashtray, Spike said, his voice showing how tired he was. “Can we go now, Rupert? Can we go where we have to go, maybe sit down, rest a bit?”
Giles looked at his watch, then said “Yes, we can go now Spike. The plane doesn’t leave for another two hours, but we can walk over to the main terminal slowly, check in at the airline counter and pick up our tickets. Once we get to the departure gate we shouldn’t have to wait to long to board the plane. We can get some sleep on the flight over, I think we both need it.”
Spike nodded his head and pushed himself up out of his chair. Giles led the way out of the room, where they found Jennings leaning against a wall waiting for them. The three men walked down the hallway and out a door leading to the outside without speaking. Once outside Spike could see that the main terminal was about a half mile away, but because they couldn’t just walk across the airfield, the route they would have to take was a little more than a mile. The three men quickly settled into a comfortable walk. Jennings led the way, scanning the area ahead of them like a soldier walking point on patrol. Spike and Giles followed about five paces behind him.
About halfway to the terminal, Giles looked over at Spike. “You said earlier tonight that you have a passport and I’m assuming it’s a fairly good one since you use it to travel all over Europe. But is it good enough to get you into the States? If not, I may have to make a couple of calls to get you on the plane.”
Spike looked back over at Giles and a crooked smirk of a grin crossed his lips. “Actually, Rupert, it’s probably a better one than you’ve got.” Reaching inside his coat pocket, Spike pulled out his passport and handed it over to Giles.
Since the area around the terminal was well lit, Giles didn’t have any trouble reading it. Instead of a fake British passport like Giles had expected, what he was looking at was a passport issued by the Vatican City. As a sovereign state within the country of Italy, the Vatican City had the right to issue their own passports. The passport stated that Spike was a legal resident of the Vatican City and that he had limited diplomatic immunity from searches because he was a registered courier for the Papal State. All of the stamps and seals look authentic. Giles checked the picture and saw that it was a current photograph of Spike. The name on the passport was, William Metatron. Giles recognized the name as being one of the lesser known Archangels. Looking over at Spike he lifted one eyebrow in question.
The grin on Spikes face got bigger. With a bit of snark in his voice, Spike explained. “One of the Vatican priests gave that to me, plus some papers that verify that I’m a courier. Because of my normal occupation, carrying around weapons and demon parts could get a bit dicey sometimes. I’ve got myself one of those steel courier cases and as long as I show my passport and papers, no one can open the case. It’s made things a lot easier the past ten months or so. Now I haven’t been back to the States since I got it, but I think it should do well enough.”
Giles was impressed, but of course he couldn’t admit it. “Well, I suppose it might do. You can never tell with those Americans though, Homeland Security and all that rubbish. If you do have any problems I suppose I will be able to use my Council contacts to work things out.” When Giles handed the passport back to Spike, they both shared a grin, but didn’t say anymore about it.
There were no problems with the passports, checking in, or picking up their tickets. The walk to the departure gate wasn’t that long and there was only a short wait before the gate was opened to allow passengers to board. Spike and Giles were the first passengers to board the plane and as soon as they found their assigned seats, Spike retrieved a pillow and blanket from the overhead, took the window seat and promptly fell asleep. Giles remained awake until the plane was airborne, then settled himself back for some much needed sleep.
****
The flight from London to Los Angeles was a non-stop international that was scheduled to take twelve hours. Leaving at 1:00AM London time it was scheduled to arrive at 5:00AM in Los Angeles. Being a late night flight, a businessman’s flight, the plane was only about two thirds full and most of the passengers tried to sleep most of the way. The airline hostesses on the flight knew what their passengers wanted. They kept the lights turned down low, the noise down, and didn’t wheel carts up and down the aisle waking people up to ask them if they were comfortable or wanting something to eat.
Giles got a solid eight hours sleep, which he sorely needed, then spent the rest of the flight reading. Spike was sleeping like the dead, which made Giles grimace to himself ruefully when he thought of it. An hour out of LAX the flight hostesses turned up the lights and started waking passengers for coffee and croissants. This allowed the passengers time to wake up, use the lavatory and prepare themselves for landing and debarkation. When Spike awoke the blanket that he had pulled up to cover all but the top of his head slipped down. The blanket of course hadn’t really been necessary to keep Spike warm as he slept, it’s main purpose was to conceal his face and body so that no one would notice that he would stop breathing at times.
Giles had wondered in the past, and again on the flight over, why Spike breathed at all. It wasn’t as if it were necessary, a vampire really only needed to breath if they were trying to talk, or smoke, or something similar. But Spike seemed to breath all the time? Giles pondered this and eventually had to come to the conclusion that this was just another of those many anomalies that made Spike who and what he was. A vampire who breathed, who laughed and cried, who felt emotions so strongly that it could sometimes take your breath away to see their effects on him. Giles would have liked to believe that Spikes ability to feel emotions was due to him having a soul, but he knew this wasn’t true. For years Giles had watched Spike. He had seen him express anger, rage and hate, all explainable emotions for a demon. But he had also seen him express hurt and loss when Drusilla had left him years ago. He had seen Spike laugh and cry. He had witnessed first hand the devastation that Buffys death had on him after she leapt from the tower. He had also seen the near frantic efforts of Spike the summer after Buffys death to take care of and protect Dawn from any harm. He had witnessed, and been the recipient himself, of Spikes efforts to protect from harm any of the Scoobies. Giles had always surmised that these efforts were mainly due to Spike wanting to protect Dawn from having to suffer the loss of anyone else she cared about. But even if that was true it still showed a level of love and concern for Dawn that all of Giles years of training had taught him to be impossible. Giles wondered, and not for the first time, how things might have turned out differently if they had only treated Spike a little more … human?
Giles noticed while Spike woke up, and was still foggy from his deep sleep, that there was an unprotected innocents about the way he looked. It reminded Giles of a small child waking up in the morning full of life, love and innocents. As he became more awake a veneer seemed to slip down over his features, a protective mask. An insight came to Giles that astounded him. William the innocent covered over with a veneer of Spike the protector. Was Spikes brashness and often indifferent behavior toward others his way to protect William from harm? Did William hide safely behind the veneer of Spike, never having to suffer the harsh words and treatment of others that had always seemed to roll off of Spike so easily? A second thought came to Giles. He wondered if Spikes inner William really had gone unharmed, or if it was only Spikes hard shelled veneer of indifference to what was said and done to him that had made it seem that way?
Giles was jarred from his thoughts by the sudden movement of Spike rising to his feet. Giles moved his legs to allow Spike to step out into the aisle, then watched him join several other men waiting their turn to use the lavatory. As he watched, a pretty young flight hostess approached Spike and started speaking to him. Of the several men waiting in line, Spike seemed to be the only one she was interested in talking too. He noticed Spike speaking to her and smiling, but there wasn’t the kind of overt flirting that Spike use to do with almost any woman Giles had ever seen him talk to in the past. When Spikes turn came and he entered the lavatory, Giles expected the hostess to go about her duties. Instead she remained outside the lavatory doors. When the lavatory door opened and Spike came out, the young hostess was standing there with a big smile on her face. A smile that suddenly froze, then disappeared. Giles immediately became alert, wondering if there was trouble. He watched Spike lean toward the woman and speak to her. An embarrassed grin spread across the woman’s face and she gave a little nod of her head. She then turned and started walking down the aisle away from Spike. Giles was wondering what was going on. He got his answer when Spike turned toward him and started walking back down the aisle to his seat. Spike was now wearing a priests collar. With a smirk on his lips Spike retook his seat, but didn’t say anything. Giles held his tongue also, not really knowing what to say at the time.
**
As they walked from the plane toward baggage pickup and on to ‘Customs’, Giles glanced over at Spike and asked quietly. “What’s that all about?”
Spike knew what Giles was talking about and answered “I’ve found out that it helps, when you don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings, makes it easier to say No. Besides, it makes it simpler with the people at ‘Customs’ to believe I’m a courier when they see the collar.”
Spike was right about the collar helping him at ‘Customs’. After showing the ‘Customs Officer’ his passport and papers, plus speaking to the man in fluent Italian, he had no problems at all. Giles in fact had more of a problem, although minor, when he had to explain his passport, his green card, and that he was returning home to Sunnydale after an extended business trip in Europe. As they walked away from ‘Customs’ Spike couldn’t help but have a smirk on his face.
By the time they finished with ‘Customs’ and had walked their way through the terminal, it was getting near to sunrise. Giles had left his car in long term parking when he left Los Angeles a month ago. Instead of risking Spike trying to make it out to the parking area, Giles caught the tram that would take him there, while Spike waited inside the shade of the terminal with their baggage where there would be no risk from the sun. Giles had assured Spike that he could ride in the back seat covered with blankets with no risk at all from the sun.
Spike of course, being as reckless as ever, got into the front seat instead of the back. With a blanket wrapped around him and his head covered, peeking out through a small gap in the folds of the blanket, Spike was ready to go. Giles thought he looked ridiculous, but decided not to say so, because instead of making the turn for the highway that would take them to Sunnydale, Giles instead made the turn that would take them back into the city. When Spike questioned where they were going, Giles explained that he had to take care of some business for the Magic Box before leaving town, and he also needed to stop by and see Angel.
Spike made a groan and started cussing loudly in a half dozen languages, two of them demon. When he finally wound himself down he peeked out of his blanket and glaring over at Giles, Spike said in a defensive tone of voice. “You know this is going to turn out bad, don’t you? The last time I saw Angel was more than five years ago. I had him strung up being tortured, over that Ring of Amara thing. I doubt the bloody wankers going to be happy to see me. Probably try to dust me as soon as I walk through the door.”
“Well will just have to see that it doesn’t happen, won’t we” Giles replied glibly. When Spike frowned at him, Giles continued in a more serious tone. “Spike, I know this is an inconvenience, but I have important business I need to take care of today before I can go back to Sunnydale. Angel has also been trying to gather more information on those young men at the fraternity house. I need to see him to find out if he has learned anything new. It shouldn’t really be all that bad. Angel runs his business from an old hotel, there should be sufficient empty rooms that you could stay in one for the day and avoid him altogether. Just try not to provoke him and everything should be fine.”
Still sounding grouchy, Spike replied “Yeah, that’s easy for you to say. Your not the one he’s going to try to stake.”
The rest of the ride was in silence. Well, relative silence, Spike started playing with the radio dial looking for music that appealed to him, therefore driving Giles to distraction. When they finally pulled up in front of the Hyperion and Giles could shut off the engine, he did so with a sigh of relief. Sitting in the car looking at the thirty or so sun lit feet between the car and the doorway Spike frowned again. Not bothering to look at Giles he said “Go see if that doors unlocked. I’ll be damned again if I’m going to run up there and burst into flames because the door won’t open.” Giles felt that Spike was being childish about the whole situation, but decided not to argue with him about it. Getting out of the car he walked up to the door, pushed it open and entered the building.
Stepping from the bright sunlight into the darker interior of the Hyperion it took several seconds for Giles eyes to adjust. When they did, the first thing he noticed was an attractive young woman walking toward him with her hand out. Giles had seen her at a distance the last time he had visited Angel, but did not know her name or what she did in relation to helping Angel. When she stopped in front of him, her hand still extended, she said “Hi, my names Fred, Winifred Burkel. I’ve seen you here before, are you looking for Angel? He’s in his office right now.”
Giles was enchanted by the sweetness of the young womans voice and demeanor. He extended his hand to her without question and shook her hand. She was thin, of medium height, had dark hair, wore glasses, and had the sweetest smile he had seen in many years. He was just about to speak when the door behind him crashed open and Spike came rushing into the foyer. He whipped the smoking blanket wrapped around him onto the floor and proceeded to stamp out the hot spots, the whole time cursing in at least three different demon languages. The girl, Fred, took a couple of steps back, her eyes growing wide, and stumbling sat down hard on the floor. It had taken her all of about two seconds to realize that Spike was a vampire.
Before Giles could even start to explain there was a loud squealing “Eeepp” sound from behind the large counter to the left of him and looking in that direction Giles saw Cordelia with her hands clasped in front of her mouth as she squeaked out “Spike!”, her voice in near panic. From inside the office whose doorway Cordelia was standing at, a loud voice yelled out in fury “Spike?”. Angel came charging out of the office and was hurtling over the counter heading straight for Spike with his hands open and ready to grasp Spike by the throat. Giles, without thinking, brought his knee up into Angels groin as he tried to rush past Giles. The impact of the collision sent Giles sprawling to the floor in one direction and Angel falling in another with his hands grasping his groin in agony.
Spike had been so distracted in stamping out his blanket and making sure that he wasn’t on fire that he’d missed what was going on until everyone was on the floor. It had all taken just a few second to happen. Standing there, looking around the room at the scattered bodies, Spike still wasn’t sure what had happened yet. He was suddenly distracted by the sight of a young man jumping over the top rail of a second story railing, landing on the floor in a crouched position, then launching himself toward Spike. Spike could see immediately that the boy was dangerous and ready to kill him, vamping out Spike met him in the middle of the room.
When they met it was in a flurry of fist and feet, blocks and parries. The boy was good, very good, he was also strong and fast, but Spike had been fighting the best in the world for over a hundred years. The only person that Spike had ever fought that he had considered to be truly better than him in an all out fight was Buffy, and this boy was no Slayer. Leaving himself open to a blow, when it came Spike was able to grasp the boys arm and spinning and twisting around the boys body he brought the boys arm up behind him while grasping him around the neck and throat. Spike was applying pressure, enough to cut off the blood to the boys brain and knock him out, when something about the boy stopped him.
Before Spike could make a decision on what to do next, Angels voice shouted out loudly “Spike, don’t!” Holding on to the boy tightly to prevent him from breaking free, Spike glanced over at Angel who had just risen to his knees on the floor. He quirked a questioning eyebrow in Angels direction, wanting a reason. Angel said it quickly, a note of fear in his voice “He’s my son, Spike, don’t hurt him!”
Spike took a deep breath, taking in the boys scent, then recognition hit him. His face morphing back into human as he pushed the boy away from him hard in Angels direction. The boy spun around as if to go back after Spike when Angel grabbed the boy by the arm and held on tightly. Rising to his feet, Angel kept his hold on the boy. Spike looked at Angel with wonder in his eyes, then spoke “He smells of Darla. What the bloody hell is going on here?”
Giles had risen to his feet while this was going on and approached Spike cautiously, because from the look on Spikes face he might just well strike out at the first person who moved. Speaking quietly, Giles said “I’ll explain it later. For some reason that seems totally obscure at the moment, I thought you already knew. This young man is Connor, he’s Angels son. His mother was Darla.” The complete bafflement on Spikes face made Giles want to kick himself. Why in the ‘bloody hell’ had he assumed that Spike would know about Connor when just a half hour ago Spike had clearly told him that he hadn’t seen Angel in five years. Age and stress were clearly scrambling his ability to think.
Spike stepped back from Giles, looking at him as if he’d just grown another head. Cordelia had come around the counter cautiously and had moved up next to Angel and the boy. When he saw her reach out and place her hand on the arm Angel wasn’t holding and giving it a gentle squeeze, like a mother would do to a son to calm him down, Spike became even more confused and took another step back until he had his back against a wall. Reaching into his coat pocket Spike pulled his cigarettes and lighter out. Cordelia looked as if she were going to say something, then held her tongue. Spike let a slight smirk spread over his lips, then putting a cigarette between his lips he lit it up. Drawing the smoke deep into his lungs, Spike let his eyes travel over everyone in the room. It was then that he saw the thin young woman for the first time. Fred had risen to her feet and was standing some distance away from Angel, Cordelia and Connor. She looked as if she wanted to go over to join them but was reluctant to pass in front of Spike and draw his attention to her. Spike looked at her, making sure that she knew he was looking at her, and gave her a smile. The smile seemed to surprise her and unconsciously she smiled back at him in return.
After a full minute or more of silence, Angel was the first to speak, his voice loaded with anger. “What’s he doing here, Giles?”
“He’s here because I’m an idiot and because I thought you could behave like a civilized human being.” Giles snapped out causticly. “Obviously I was mistaken.”
Stung by Giles words, Angel replied without thinking. “Not a human here, Giles.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that, but sometimes you pretend to be.” the acid in Giles tone of voice could have stripped the paint off the walls.
Before things could get to out of hand, Cordelia spoke up, her voice had a snarky snap to it. “Okay, everybody, stop right now, let’s start this all over. Hello Giles, it’s nice to see you. How’ve you been? Would you mind explaining why you brought Spike into our home. You do realize that the last time we saw him he was trying to murder Angel.”
Spike snapped out defensively “I didn’t try to kill the bloody ponce.”
“You tortured him” Cordelia snapped back.
“Yeah? He’s still alive, isn’t he?” Spike tone of voice sounded as if he were trying to explain things to an idiot and they just couldn’t understand what he was saying.
Before Cordelia could say anything else, Angel touched her arm to silence her. Spike noticed the interaction between them. Angel then spoke up for himself, his voice angry and aggressive. “Okay Spike, you didn’t try to kill me. Long time ago, bygones be bygones, yada, yada, yada. So what are you doing here?”
“Not here by choice” Spike said defensively. That was the thing with Spike and Angel, everything between them always seemed to be either defense or attack, never a middle ground. Feeling the anger building inside him, Spike snapped out “Knew coming here was trouble. Passing through, that‘s all. On business.” Seeing that Angel was about to question what his business was in L.A., Spike cut him off with “My business!”
Angel glared at Spike for several moments, then turning toward Giles he said, “Okay Giles, Spikes here on ‘business’.” Angel said the last word with a sneer in his voice. “But what are you doing in L.A., with him?”
Before Giles could get a word out, Spike took an aggressive step away from the wall and glaring at Angel, said “That’s his business, Wanker! You get the concept? His business, my business, our business, none of your business!”
Angel glared back at Spike, and then an idea seemed to come into focus within his eyes. Looking back at Giles, his whole demeanor changed, he asked in a concerned tone of voice, without any of the previous anger, “It’s Dawn, he’s here about Dawn, isn’t he?”
Giles started to speak, but looking over at Spike he changed his mind. Instead he just nodded his head slightly.
Angel took in a deep breath of air and let it out slowly. Then in a calm voice, speaking only to Giles, he asked. “Alright Giles, what do you need, what do you want?”
Giles looked over at Spike to see if he was going to say anything, when he didn’t, Giles started talking to Angel in a crisp business like tone. “What I need is to take care of some important business for the Magic Box and to make a few phone calls. I also need to talk to you to find out if you have learned anything new in regards to the young men at the fraternity house, Dawns former roommate, and Wolfram & Hart. I cannot believe that what was done to Dawn was the first time something like that has happened. If we can not prove that these people did something to Dawn, perhaps we can prove they did something to someone else. As to what I want, I want a safe place where Spike can spend the day resting. A place safe from the sun, where he can feed, where he will be left in peace.”
Angel gave a quick glance over at Spike, then looking back at Giles, speaking in a near whisper “Okay, but why did you bring him ‘here‘?”
Speaking quietly, but not as quietly as Angel, Giles said “Angel, you have what, thirty, forty, empty hotel rooms in this place? You have blood available, or have easy access to it? You know what Spike is, what his needs are. It seemed logical that this would be the best place to bring him. Unfortunately, I forgot to factor in your hatred of him.”
“I don’t hate him” Angel said defensively. Seeing the look of disbelief on Giles face, Angel quickly added “He just gets on my nerves.”
“Fine, then let Spike have a room as far away from you as makes you comfortable. I’ll go take care of my business and phone calls then come back here and discuss with you anything new you might have learned. I assure you that if you leave him alone, Spike has no reason to seek you out, therefore he should not get on your nerves. As soon as the sun sets we will leave and be of no further bother to you.” Giles tone of voice was calm and reasonable, but Angel felt as if he were being reprimanded for having bad manners.
As soon as Angel and Giles started talking, Spike tried to ignore them. Not thinking about what he was doing he started adjusting his waterproof, folding down the collar from where he had folded it up as partial protection from the sunlight. Fred noticed something as he adjusted his coat and took several unconscious steps toward him to see better. Spike noticed her movement and turned toward her, not knowing if she was a danger or not to him. It took him a few moments to realize that she was staring at him and he started to feel uncomfortable. It was then that he realized what she was staring at, he had forgotten to take the priests collar off when he was still in the car. Mumbling ‘bloody hells’ and other words, he reached up behind his neck and unfastened the collar and pulled it off, over his head, quickly. Stuffing the dickey like collar into his coat pocket, Spike glanced back at the girl and now saw that she was staring at him even harder, her hands were at her mouth and her eyes were big and round. Reaching up to his neck he found that in taking off the collar he had pulled the cross he wore around his neck out into the open. Quickly he stuffed it back inside his t-shirt. Spike looked over to the girl again, to see if she was going to say or do anything. Fred just lowered her hands from her mouth, took three steps closer to Spike and gave him a smile that was absolutely ‘brilliant’.
The girls smile was so stunning that Spike missed what she was saying to him. He didn’t hear her introduce herself, nor did he hear anything else she said, it was all babble in his ears. It wasn’t until she reached out and touched his hand that he became aware of anything but her smile. Realizing that she had grasped his hand lightly, he tightened his fingers around hers, just a little, and raising her hand up he kissed the back of it as if she were ‘Nobility’. A slight blush came to her face, along with a new smile. Spike smiled at her in return, and speaking softly said “Sunshine, I have no idea what you just said to me. Your smile robbed me of my senses.”
Connor had noticed Fred smiling at Spike, and when Spike raised her hand and kissed it, she smiled even more. Not understanding what was going on, he stepped away from Angel and stepped up behind Fred. He didn’t know this vampire and assuredly didn’t trust him, but he knew he wasn’t suppose to attack him again. Not that attacking him would do much good. The blonde vampire had bested him in less than a minute, and could have killed him if Angel hadn’t intervened. Connors ego was feeling a bit bruised, no one had ever beaten him before, or so quickly, except Angel. The little he did understand from overhearing Angel and Giles talk was that somehow this vampire and his father were connected. He had also understood that this vampire, Spike, had known his mother, Darla, and had said that he ‘smells’ of her. Connor wanted to know more about that, what it meant.
Spike noticed Connor moving up behind the girl, but determined that he wasn’t a threat and returned his attention to her. She was blushing brightly from his words, but she was still smiling and for some reason unafraid. When she started speaking this time he listened to her. “I was telling you my names Fred. Actually it’s Winifred, but everyone calls me Fred, well everyone but my mama, but she’s not here right now. I was saying that I’d be happy to show you to a room for the day, cause there’s a real nice one up on the fourth floor, it’s on the north side of the hotel so there’d be no problems with the sunlight coming into the room. We fixed it up last year as a guest room for visitors, an seeing how you’re a visitor and a guest, it would be perfect for you. We have blood in the freezer, so if your hungry I could put some in the microwave and heat it up for you, and don’t worry, I know how to heat up blood without cooking it, I’ve done it for Angel a bunch of times.” The more Fred talked the quicker her speech became and the longer her sentences. To cut her off, and let her stop for a breath of air, Spike reached up and pressed one finger lightly against her lips, which made her stop talking.
Spike couldn’t help but smile at Fred. “I’d like that, love, you showing me to a room an all. I could do with a few more hours of sleep, but what I would really like is a hot shower and a change of cloths. I’ve been in these same ones for the past couple of days, what with all the travel. But my bags are out in the car and I can’t go out after them. Maybe when the Watcher gets done gabbing he’ll go out an fetch them for me.”
“Oh, you don’t have to wait for that, Connor will get your bags for you.” Saying this, Fred turned her head slightly and said over her shoulder “Won’t you, Connor? You’ll get Spikes bags for him, won’t you? I could take him up to his room now and you could bring up his bags?”
Spike spoke up quickly, following her words. “Look, pet, I don’t want to be a bother to anyone. I can wait for the Watcher to get done.”
Fred looked at Spike and then over at Connor, almost with a plea in her eyes. Connor bowed his head a little, while letting out a sigh, then said “No, it’s okay, I’ll get them for you. How many do you have?”
Spike hesitated for a moment, then accepted. “If your sure, don’t want to be a trouble.” When Connor looked up at him and just gave him a small nod of the head, Spike said. “Alright then, mine are the black duffle and the steel courier case, the rest are the Watchers.” Connor just nodded his head, and first giving Fred a small smile, started walking toward the front door. Fred gave Spike another of her biggest smiles, and tucking her arm through his, started leading him toward the staircase.
Angel, who was still in his conversation with Giles, noticed Connor going out the door. He called out “Connor?”, but by the time he got it out, Connor was already gone. He then glanced over at Spike and saw that he was gone too. Looking around he saw Fred with her arm tucked up through Spikes. He called out “Fred?”, but if she heard him she didn’t acknowledge it, she just kept going up the stairs with Spike. Angel, feeling confused, half turned so that he could see Cordelia, who had been standing a few feet behind him. Looking at her he said “What’s going on?”. Cordelia just shrugged her shoulders to indicate that she didn’t know either. The front doors banged open again and Connor came rushing in with a black duffle bag in one hand and a steel courier case in the other. Without pausing Connor started to hurry across the foyer toward the staircase. Angel called out again, this time loud enough not to be ignored “Connor, where are you going?”
Connor stopped on the first step of the staircase and turning looked back at Angel, giving him a puzzled look. “Where do you think I’m going? Fred’s taking Spike up to the ‘guest room’ on the fourth floor. He wants to take a shower and change cloths before he tries to get some sleep. Fred asked me to get his stuff for him.” Connor then turned and started up the stairs quickly.
Angel stood there with his mouth hanging open. The ‘guest room’ on the fourth floor was the room that Fred had spent weeks cleaning and redecorating for her parents to stay in when they came to visit her the previous summer. No one else had ever stayed in the room, it was sort of excepted that the room was for Fred’s parents and no one else. That she had chosen to take Spike to those rooms, when there were dozens of other empty rooms to choose from must mean something, but Angel had no idea what.
Turning back toward Giles, still feeling confused, and therefore by his nature, irritated, he noticed a smirk on Giles lips that he was trying not to show. Before Angel could say anything, Giles spoke first. “Yes, now that things have been taken care of properly, I’ll be on my way. I should be finished with my business by early this afternoon. I’ll be back then and we can go over any new information you may have learned over the past month while I’ve been away.” Giving Angel a brief smile, Giles turned around and walked out the front doors, leaving Angel standing there with his mouth hanging open again.
**
Fred had been quiet as they climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, but as they topped the floor she looked over at Spike and asked him a question, her curiosity was written all over her face. “Did you really torture Angel?”
Spike kind of ducked his head, as if he were embarrassed, before speaking. “Nah, pet, couldn’t really do that, him being family an all. Hired a professional to do it. That way it was business, not personal. Just wanted my property back, that’s all.”
Fred turned toward Spike and tilting her head a little to one side, scrunching up her brow a little bit, she studied him for a few moments, trying to figure out the logic of what he had just said. Finally giving her head a little shake she gave up on trying to understand vampire thinking. Instead she responded to just a part of what he’d said. “You and Angel, your family?”
They had just reached the door to the room Fred was taking him to, so he followed her into the room before answering. “Yeah love, ya know, vampire family, he’s my grandsire.”
“Really, how’s that work?” Fred asked, full of curiosity. Angel never talked about his vampire side of life. Well, he did, but it was mostly to remind everyone that he was a ‘good’ vampire, because he had a soul. He hardly ever mentioned his life as a vampire before he got the soul, or even before coming to Los Angeles, at least not to Fred.
“Yeah, you know, sire of my sire?” When Fred continued to look at him with a question in her eyes, Spike knew he would have to explain a little more. “Angel never told you any of this?”
Fred shook her head, “Angel never talks about vampire stuff, at least not with me. I mean I know what siring is, Wesley and Charles told me that much, that’s when a vampire turns someone into a vampire, right?”
“Yeah, well it’s a little more complicated that that, mostly.” Spike hesitated for a few moments, then went ahead. “See if I was to bite you and drain you, just before you die I’d make you drink some of my blood, that’d be turning you. If I just walked away, abandoned you, you’d wake up in your grave, dig yourself out and just be another feral vampire, no clan, no family. That’s what most vampires are, mostly. But if I wanted to keep you, I’d be there when you dug yourself out of your grave to claim you as mine. I’d make sure you got your first kill so you could feed, I’d train you how to be a proper vampire, make sure you didn’t get dusted before you could take care of yourself. That’s what siring is about, claiming what’s yours.”
Fred nodded her head in understanding, then asked “How does that make Angel your grandsire?”
Connor had hurried to get the bags and to bring them up to Spike, so he was just outside the still open door when he heard Spike start to explain to Fred about siring. Connor stopped outside the doorway, out of sight, wanting to hear more. When he heard Fred ask about Angel being Spikes grandsire he knew he definitely wanted to hear more.
“Well, Angel was Dru’s sire and Dru was my sire, so Angel is the sire of my sire, my grandsire.” Spike had sensed Connor outside the door while talking to Fred. As he talked he’d walked over to the open door and looked out, making sure Connor knew he’d been caught listening, then turned back into the room. Connor, realizing there was know point in trying to hide, followed Spike into the room.
Wanting to satisfy his own curiosity, Connor asked quickly before anyone else could say anything, “How do you know Darla and what did you mean that I ‘smell’ of her?”
Hesitating again, Spike was feeling unsure of what he should tell this boy. The fact that Angel hadn’t told the boy anything about his ‘family’ made him uncomfortable about telling him things Angel obviously didn’t want him to know. It also made Spike angry. It was just like Angel to think that if you hid from the truth, then the truth wasn’t real. Yeah, until one day the truth came out of hiding and bit you on the arse. Deciding that to tell the boy just what he’d asked for and nothing more would be safe enough, and not have Angel coming after him, Spike explained. “Darla was Angels sire, so she was my great-grandsire. We were all together for awhile, Darla, Angel, Dru and me, like a family, so I knew her. About the smell thing, it’s complicated. But the simple version of it is that everyone has a smell about them, a scent that’s just their own. Now you have your own scent, like everyone else, but you also have a touch of Angel’s scent about you, and Darla’s too. But I guess you being their ‘son’ sort of explains that a bit, doesn’t it?”
Fred had been watching Spike closely the entire time they’d been together and she could tell by his body language that he was uncomfortable talking about these things with Connor. She wasn’t sure why, but she could feel it. To prevent Connor from asking more questions she decided to intervene. “Connor, why don’t we let Spike take that hot shower he wanted. Maybe after he gets some rest he’ll have time to talk to us again, you know, before he has to leave tonight.” Seeing the relief in Spikes eyes when he looked over at her, Fred knew she was doing the right thing.
Connor hesitated, he had questions he would like to ask Spike, questions that his father always avoided, but he reluctantly agreed. “Yeah, maybe later, before you leave.”
***
Spike woke up still feeling worn out. After he’d taken his shower he’d dressed in clean pants and t-shirt, then laid down to rest. He was still feeling exhausted from all the emotional turmoil he’d been through the past two days and should have fallen asleep easily, but his mind wouldn’t shut off. Thoughts of Dawn and what she’d been through were tormenting him. The promise he’d once made to protect her from harm made his soul burn with guilt. When he ran from Sunnydale three years previously he hadn’t thought about his promise then, the emotional trauma of what had just happened with Buffy had overwhelmed all other thoughts. But afterward, after he’d received his soul, after he had regained the ability to think without the chip trying to fry his brain, he’d thought about his promise many times. The only way he’d been able to assuage his guilt over the years was by imagining that Dawn was safe and happy, and that, with Buffy there to protect Dawn, he wasn’t really needed.
Learning of how Dawn found out what he had tried to do to Buffy had been a major trauma to his soul. He had hoped so hard, so often (you could almost call it prayed) that Buffy had never told Dawn why he had left town. Finding out the way she did, from that bloody whelp Harris, had to have hurt her terribly. She must have hated him for what he’d tried to do. But, the Watcher had sworn to him that Dawn still loved him, and trusted him? Spike couldn’t understand? As much as he hated himself for what he’d tried to do, he couldn’t understand why Dawn didn’t hate him too? Then learning that for some reason Dawn had blamed Buffy for his leaving. That he had been the cause of a breach between the two of them. Spikes soul had twisted and turned with that knowledge.
The rage that Spike had felt when he was told what happened to Dawn had nearly burned his soul from his body. If it had been possible he’d have reached up to heaven and pulled God down from his throne and throttled him for allowing such a thing to happen. But then his soul had twisted his rage into guilt. It wasn’t God who was responsible for what happened to Dawn. It was humans and demons, monsters like himself, that had done this to her. The pain of his guilt had made his body shake with the need to seek vengeance. His soul had calmed him, soothed him, telling him he would get his chance for vengeance, but first he needed to help Dawn.
It was the last of it that the Watcher had told Spike that had nearly destroyed him. When Giles had told him that Buffy was begging him to come back, to help Dawn, to make her feel safe again, ‘that’ had pushed him over the edge. Spike knew that he had crossed over into insanity then. The idea that he, a monster, a would be rapist, someone Buffy hated and feared, could make Dawn feel ‘safe’ was more than his mind could handle. Spike felt certain that if Giles hadn’t touched him, spoken to him when he did, snapping him back into reality, he could have never come back on his own. The thought had come to Spike that he should have thanked Giles for snapping him back to reality. But then the thoughts of what he had yet to face ahead of him made him wonder. Maybe he would have been better off if Giles had just left him to his insanity.
Going back to Sunnydale to try to help Dawn, to make her feel ‘safe again’ was going to be hard enough on him. But facing Buffy, facing her hate and fear, Spike was afraid that it would be more than he could handle. Spike admitted to himself that he was fragile right now. That he was torn open, his heart and soul were both lying bare to the emotional storm that had been tearing at him for the past two days. He knew that he would have to build up his walls of protection around himself again. He knew that the only way he would be able to face Buffy was if he could shelter himself behind these walls. But at the same time he was afraid. He was afraid that if he built these walls up again that he might not be able to give to Dawn what she needed from him. Spike had fallen asleep, fitfully, his mind in turmoil with these opposing thoughts.
Waking up, Spikes thoughts felt thick and sluggish. His head was aching, he knew he needed to feed soon. Sitting up and swinging his legs out, he sat on the edge of the bed for a minute. He looked around the room at the décor. It wasn’t something that really appealed to him, but he could tell that whoever decorated the room had done so with love and care. There were to many little touches about the room for this to be just any room in the hotel. The thought came to him that the girl, Fred, must have had something to do with this room, making it look so nice, so home like. It also came to him that if this room was special to Fred, then the fact that she had brought him to this room must mean something, he just didn’t know what?
***
He’d stayed in his room after he woke up, he didn’t want to be wandering around the hotel and run into Angel. But when there was a knock on the door he answered and Fred was on the other side with a smile on her face. She told him Giles had returned and was with Angel now and she was wondering if he would like to come down to the kitchen for something to eat. On the way down he’d made a reference to the ‘Watcher’ having been busy all day and Fred asked if he thought Giles would know of any other ‘Watchers’ in the area. Fred explained that she’d had a friend, Wesley, that use to be a ‘Watcher’, but she hadn’t seen him in over two and a half years. She was wondering if Giles might have seen him over the years and if he was doing alright. Spike had noticed that the smile had left her face and was replace by one of sadness. Spike had told her that he’d been out of the country himself for the past three years, so he didn’t really know. He suggested that she ask Giles herself. She’d gotten a reluctant look on her face and had mumbled out that maybe she would do that, speak to him when he wasn’t busy with Angel. The fact that she didn’t want to speak of her friend in front of Angel didn’t go unnoticed.
Talking to Fred turned out to be easy. Mainly it was easy because she acted as if he were just a normal person. Even when he was drinking blood in front of her, she acted as if it were just a cup of tea. He’d mentioned that he’d been out of the country, so she asked where he’d been, and he told her some of the counties he’d been too. She said how much she envied him, traveling like that, seeing different countries. She told him that she hadn’t seen much of the world, just Texas where she was born and a little bit of California. She told him that she was a physicist, a scientist, and started to explain what that was about, but he interrupted her, telling her that he’d never understand. He told her that the only scientist he’d ever known was a phrenologist, and that had pretty much put him off from studying the hard sciences. Fred grinned at him for calling phrenology a hard science. She told him how she’d been sent to a demon dimension for five years and had lived as a slave cow and then a runaway. That when Angel, Wesley, Charles and Lorne had come to Pylea to rescue Cordelia, Angel had rescued her too and brought her back.
Spike noticed the mention of the man ‘Wesley’ again, that Fred had mentioned his name at least three or four times. Trying to be casual, Spike asked where these other blokes were, that he’d like to meet the people that had rescued her. She told him that Charles was probably with his girlfriend Anne. That she ran a shelter for street kids, runaways and lockouts, and that Charles helped her out a lot during the daytime. That he usually only came around in the evening or when Angel called him in for a job.
That Lorne was up in his room, probably sleeping, because he was usually up all night. She explained that Lorne was a demon from Pylea and that he was a psychic-empath, that he could read a persons past, present and future. But to get a true reading a person had to sing for him. That’s why he ran a human-demon night club called ‘Caritas’ and was know as the ‘Host’. She told him that humans and demons from all over came to Lorne for readings, that he could put them in touch with their emotions and help them find their way. That even Angel sang for him sometimes when he was having problems dealing with certain issues. Hearing that Angel sang for Lorne, Spike made the comment that he hoped Lorne was tone deaf, because Angel certainly couldn’t sing.
When Fred didn’t mention the man ‘Wesley’, Spike brought the name up himself and prompted her to talk about him. Spike already knew that the bloke hadn’t been around for awhile, Fred had already mentioned it. But it was the fact that whenever she did mention his name she seemed to get a sad look on her face that interested him the most. That anyone could make Fred sad was of interest to him. Spike was good at reading people, when he wanted to take the time. He could tell that the sadness that Fred felt wasn’t due to something this ‘Wesley’ had done to her, it was due more to something she had done, or failed to do, that made her sad. Spike could read regret and remorse on a persons face like other people could read a newspaper.
Slowly at first, but then with more animation, Fred told him the story about Darla returning to L.A. pregnant with Angels child. That there was a prophesy about an ‘unborn child’ and that Darla had sacrificed her own life by killing herself so that Connor could be born, or ‘unborn’ actually. How there had been a second prophesy, a fake one, that had fooled Wesley into believing that Angel would ‘kill his son’. That to save Connor and to prevent Angel from doing something that would destroy him, Wesley had run off with Connor. How Wesley had been tricked, had his throat cut, and Connor stolen from him. How the man Holtz had carried Connor into a demon dimension where Angel couldn’t follow him. How Angel had blamed Wesley for the loss of Connor and had tried to kill him in his hospital bed. How everyone had blamed Wesley, all of them refusing to understand at the time that Wesley was trying to save Connor, not harm him. That Connor had come back from the demon dimension a few months later, having aged about seventeen years. How Holtz had raised Connor to hate Angel. How Holtz had himself killed in a way to make Connor think that Angel had killed him. How for revenge Connor had sunk Angel in a steel box to the bottom of the ocean to suffer a never ending death. And then how months later, Wesley had rescued Angel from the ocean floor and returned him to the Hyperion to face Connor. That after rescuing Angel, Wesley had left Los Angeles and that she hadn’t seen or heard of him since he left.
With a little additional prompting from Spike, Fred confessed how badly she felt about how things had ended with Wesley. How everyone was so hurt after the loss of Connor. How she had gone to Wesley after he got out of the hospital and had told him that he should never return to the Hyperion. How it wasn’t until much later that she understood that Wesley had been a victim in this story as much as anyone else, and how much she regretted having turned her back on a friend without ever trying to understand why he did what he had done.
By the time that Fred finished her story she had tears in her eyes and was visibly upset. Spike moved to her instinctively and wrapping his arms around her he tried to sooth her. Fred let Spike hold her, she understood just as instinctively that Spike needed to comfort her as much as she needed to be comforted. That was when Lorne walked in on them.
As soon as Spike saw Lorne he stiffened up, then let his arms fall away from holding Fred. Fred was aware of Spike’s actions, but kept one of her arms wrapped around his waist as she half turned to see who had come into the room. As soon as she saw it was Lorne a smile came to her face and she said “Hi Lorne. You just get up?”
Lorne’s reaction and the words out of his mouth surprised Spike. “Oh goodness, goodness, Freddikins, what have we here? Have you been holding out on your uncle Lorne? Where have you been hiding this yummy treat? He’s absolutely scrumptious.”
Spike looked the green demon in front of him over. Lorne was taller than Spike, was extremely hansom for a demon, had reddish blonde hair, red horns and eyes and naturally red lips. He was wearing a pale chartreuse leisure suit, a pale orange silk shirt with a paisley green on yellow cravat, and on his feet, red shoes. The colors and outfit were a bit stunning for Spikes eyes, but on the demon it all looked good.
A blush came to Fred’s face and a nervous giggle escaped. “It’s not like that Lorne, Spike and I, were just friends.”
Hearing Fred call him a friend made Spike feel good inside. Over his hundred and twenty plus years of unlife Spike had made very few friends. He’d had hundreds of acquaintances, a dozen or so that he’d been on friendly terms with, but very few that were actually friends. There was Dawn of course, but Dawn was more than just a friend to him, more like a sister really. There had been Clem, a good mate, share his last bag of Cheetos if you were hungry. Always willing to listen when you needed to talk. Spike thought of including the witch’s, Willow and Tara, but decided that they were more of the friendly terms type of acquaintances. There was Father Boulard, they were on friendly terms, but again, not really friends. Thinking about this only took seconds, but in that time it registered on Spike that in all the years of his existence he could only think of two people, one a child and the other a demon, that he could call a friend. A cloud of sadness seemed to surround Spike with these thoughts.
“Whoa, sweet cheeks” Lorne said as he looked at Spike intently, “where did all this gloom come from? You got Freddikins in your arms, you should be glowing like the sun.” Studying Spike a little closer, Lorne continued “Okay, maybe in your case it should be glowing like the moon, but still there should be glowing.”
Hearing Lorne’s reference to the moon told Spike immediately that Lorne was aware of his vampire status, but like Fred, didn’t seem bothered by it. This puzzled Spike. He knew that Angel and his mates hunted and killed vampires and assorted demons all the time. Walking in on Fred in the arms of a vampire should have scared him, upset him, disturbed him, something? Instead he acted as if it were perfectly normal, and actually seemed friendly. Spike didn’t understand this at all.
Fred had also heard Lorne’s words and turning back to Spike, with the arm she still had wrapped around his waist, she gave him a hug. She also reached up and gently touched the side of Spikes face. “Hey, I didn’t mean to make you sad. The holding and comforting, it was good, for me anyway.”
“It wasn’t you, love” Spike told her gently. “When you’ve been around as long as I have, sometimes a word or two just brings back old memories, not always happy ones. That’s all it was, old memories, didn’t have anything to do with you at all.”
Fred smiled at Spike and gave him another hug. “Well that’s alright then, because I really hate when my friends are sad, because that makes me all sad, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“Nah, pet” Spike replied with a smile on his face “love that smile of yours to much to see it replaced with a frown. You smiling, makes the world a happier place for everyone.”
Fred wrapped her other arm around Spikes waist and pulling herself against him tightly gave him a big hug as she smiled her biggest smile at him. Spike brought both of his arms up around Fred and returned the hug and the smile. Bending his head so that his lips were next to Fred’s ear, Spike whispered to her “Your really special, love! One of a kind!”
Fred moved her lips next to Spikes ear and whispered back, “So are you, the really special part.”
Spike pulled back enough to look into Fred’s eyes and could see a glint of secret knowledge hiding in their depths. He was just about to ask her what she meant when Angel, Cordelia and Giles walked into the kitchen. Because he was facing toward the doorway, Spike could see the reactions of all three of them as they entered the room. Cordelia’s reactions were the easiest to read, surprise and confusion at seeing Fred in Spikes arms. Giles reactions were similar, there was surprise and possibly a little confusion, but mostly there seemed to be concern and maybe worry. Spike wasn’t certain why the Watcher would be concerned, he should know by now that Spike wouldn’t hurt the girl. As far as being worried, it was probably only worry about Angels reaction.
Angels reaction to walking in on Fred being held in Spikes arms was typical Angel. The first emotion on his face was shock, followed by fear, followed as always by anger. Seeing Spike and Fred together, the uncertainty of the situation, brought out a reaction that Spike had seen in Angel many times in the past, possessiveness. Even though Angel and Cordelia were obviously involved with each other, just as obviously Angel felt he had a claim on Fred as well. Fred was part of Angels crew, so therefore she belonged to him, and anything that belonged to Angel meant ‘hands off’ for Spike. A smirky grin spread over Spikes lips as he stared back at Angel. Spike knew that if Angel had walked into the room and had found Spike with his arms around Lorne, he would have reacted the same way. Angelus had always been a possessive selfish bastard and it was in moments like this that the demon always rose to the surface, no matter that Angel would claim otherwise.
The first words out of Angels mouth were as predictable as sunrise. In a sharp tone of voice, filled with anger, Angel snapped out “Fred, get away from Spike, he’s dangerous!”
Spike let his arms drop away from holding Fred as he continued to smirk at Angel. Fred to the contrary, kept her arms around Spikes waist and saying over her shoulder in a tone of voice that showed no concern at all, “Why’s that, Angel?”
“Because he’s a monster, you can’t trust him!” Angel snapped out as he moved up behind Fred and taking hold of one of her arms tried to pull her away from Spike.
Releasing her hold on Spike as she was pulled back, Fred turned sideways and forcefully twisted her arm out of Angels grasp. “Let go, Angel” Fred said forcefully. “I think I’m old enough to pick my own friends, don’t you?”
A shocked look came to Angels face as Fred pulled away from him. “Fred, you don’t understand. Spikes evil, he’ll hurt you.”
Holding her arm up where everyone could see the red marks on her arm where Angel had grabbed her, Fred said angrily “Like you just did?”
Fred’s words were like a slap across Angels face. He took two steps backward, confusion was plain to read on his face by everyone. If it were possible he would have blushed.
“Angelcakes, what’s your problem?” Lorne asked as he furrowed his brow and studied Angel closely. “Fred and Spike were just ‘sharing a moment’, he wasn’t hurting her. In fact, I think Freddikins was starting to enjoy herself, weren’t you sweetie?” Lorne looked over at Fred and gave her a big smile.
Fred ducked her head a little as she blushed. Then looking up at Lorne she gave him a smile. Turning so that she could see Spikes face she said “But yeah, it was nice.” Turning her face toward Angel, she continued “Being held by someone who’s sweet and gentle, it’s nice. Makes a girl feel safe and comfortable to be with them.”
The play of emotions on Angels face was almost comical, at least to Spike. There was shock, then shame, followed by embarrassment, ending with anger. Of course the anger wasn’t directed toward Fred or Lorne, as usual it was focused on Spike. If looks were wooden stakes, Spike would have turned into a pile of dust. Furrowing his brow, clenching his teeth, the muscles in his jaws bunching up, Angel turned and marched quickly from the room. As he passed Giles he growled out quietly, but loud enough that Spike could hear him, “Get him out of here!”
Spike glanced around the room at everyone and it was easy to read that they were all a little embarrassed by Angels behavior, even Cordelia had a slight blush on her face. Not wanting to cause more of a problem, Spike spoke up as if nothing had happened. “Yeah, Watcher, it’s time to go. I’ll run up and get my bags. Meet you out at the car.” Giving everyone a smile, Spike hurried from the kitchen, taking the back stairs up to the fourth floor.
Entering the room to grab up his bags, Spike found Connor sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him. As soon as he entered the room Connor was on his feet. “Your leaving now, aren’t you?” Connor asked, almost shyly, he didn’t make direct eye contact with Spike.
Spike nodded his head as he picked up his bags. “Yeah, the Watchers down at the car waiting, have to hurry.” Spike wasn’t sure what else to say to the boy, so he turned and started walking from the room.
Connor followed him out the door, and then walked down the hall toward the stairs next to Spike. Glancing over at Spike furtively, then looking away, Connor spoke quietly but quickly. “I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk. Before you left. Thought maybe you could tell me some things, about Darla, my mother.” Connor paused as they started down the stairs. When they got to the third floor landing he spoke again. “Angel won’t talk about her. Won’t explain why. Just says that she ended her own life so that I could be born. Says that she loved me enough to do that.” The last words were filled with uncertainty.
Spike looked over at the boy and could see that the questions were important to him, but at the same time he was a little afraid of the answers. Spike looked over at Connor and felt compassion for him. The one thing, of all things in the universe, that Spike had never doubted was that his mother had loved him, and that he had loved her. That he had turned his mother so that they could be together always, and then killed her because the demon he’d created wasn’t his mother, that act had tortured him for over a hundred and twenty years, long before he ever got a soul. But he never doubted that his mother had loved him with all her heart. Stopping on the last step of the stairs, Spike studied the boy and made a decision.
Glancing over at the closed door of Angels office, Spike spoke quietly. “Look boy” Spike paused, then started again. “Connor, now isn’t the time or the place for this conversation. I’ve got to go, and what you want to hear can’t be said in a few minutes.” Seeing the disappointment on the boys face, Spike continued, his voice showing his compassion. “I’m leaving for Sunnydale, it’s important that I go there, now. But, give it a few weeks, think about it, then if you want to talk, I’ll be there. Don’t know if I can answer your questions, but I’ll try. May not be the answers you want though, so think about that too.”
Connor looked Spike in the eyes for several moments. He could see that Spike was being honest with him, and that was all he really wanted, someone to give him honest answers. Nodding his head, then making eye contact again, Connor said “Okay, I’ll think about it. But, …… thanks, ….. for the offer.”
Spike gave Connor a nod of his head and stepped off the last step into the lobby. Connor turned and headed back up the stairs. When Spike got to the doors leading outside, just before pushing the door open, he called out loud enough he was certain Angel could hear him, “See ya later, Grandpa!”
Once out the door he walked to the car and put his bags in the back. Cordelia, Lorne and Fred were talking to Giles. As he approached, Fred and Lorne gave him smiles, Cordelia didn’t. Fred took his hand and gave it a squeeze, then told him to stop by again the next time he was in town. Spike gave her a smile and a kiss on the cheek. Lorne encouraged him to come back again soon, telling Spike that he would love to take him to his club ‘Caritas’ and hear him sing. Spike gave Lorne a smile and a hand shake, but no promise. Cordelia just said goodbye to Giles. Spike cocked one eyebrow at her and when she seemed to blush he gave her a grin. When both of them were in the car, Giles started it and drove away.
Once they were on their way Spike settled into his seat and quietly stared out the side window. Giles had said a couple of things to him, asking how the day went and such, but Spike hadn’t felt like getting into a conversation. He remained quiet until Giles had worked his way through the city and had driven onto the highway that would lead to Sunnydale. He then quietly asked Giles if Fred had ever had a chance to speak to him alone. Giles had told him that she hadn’t, and that made Spike feel sad for her. Spike suggested that the next time Giles visited Angel, he try to talk to Fred, alone, she had some questions she’d like to ask him, about an old friend of hers that he might know.
***
They had just passed a sign at the side of the highway that Spike recognized as the halfway point between L.A. and Sunnydale. Shaking off the deep thoughts that he had let himself sink into, Spike rolled down his window and lit up a cigarette. He offered one to Giles, but it was politely refused. Giles complained that he had smoked more cigarettes in the past few days than he had smoked in the past ten years. He claimed that his throat was raw from the smoke and all the whiskey he had consumed.
As if picking up a conversation that they were in the middle of, Spike asked “What happens now, Rupert?”
Giles glanced over at Spike and then turned his eyes back to the road. Pulling his own thoughts together for a few moments, he answered. “I’ll be taking you to Buffys house. She’s fixed up the basement for you, tried to make it comfortable, covered all the windows to keep out the sunlight. Then when your ready, you can see Dawn. We don’t really know how this is going to go, were just hoping for the best. In her depression and paranoia, Dawn has fixated on you as the one person that will keep her safe. Were hoping that if she starts feeling safe again, the paranoia and depression will lift enough that we will then be able to get her to go to counseling to help her more.”
“What if I can’t help her, Rupert?” Spikes voice was tense with anxiety. “What if I can’t make her feel safe again? What if I make things worse?”
Giles drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly before answering. “I don’t know, Spike. Were hoping this will work, but we don’t know. Truthfully, all I can say is that right now, you’re the best hope we have of getting through to Dawn and helping her. And believe this or not, I’m very grateful to you for coming back here and trying.”
“I’d do anything for the Niblet, Rupert, anything at all” Spike said, his voice thick in his throat.
They were ten miles from Sunnydale before Spike spoke again. “What about the whelp, Harris? Am I going to have trouble with him?”
Giles only hesitated briefly before answering. “No, I don’t think so. But if there is a problem with Xander, I promise you I will take care of it myself.” A cold determination had come into Giles voice as he finished his promise.
**
When Giles pulled into the driveway of the Summers home and shut off the engine, Spike got out of the car and lit a cigarette. He stood looking at the house, smoking his cigarette, not saying anything. Giles opened the back of the car and got out Spikes duffle bag and courier case. He started to say something to Spike, but hesitated. The way Spike was looking at the house, he seemed to have a distant faraway look in his eyes. Giles could easily imagine some of the memories that were crossing Spikes mind at this moment, and few of them would be pleasant memories. Picking up the duffle and case, Giles carried them up the sidewalk to the porch and front door, where he set them down, then knocked on the door.
Still standing at the side of the car, smoking his cigarette, Spike watched Giles carry his bags to the house, set them down and knock on the door. Within moments the door was opened and Buffy was standing there in the doorway, the light behind her putting her face in shadow. He could see that she smiled at Giles and wrapping her arms around him gave him a hug. Spike heard Buffy say something and Giles reply, but he was just far enough away and they both spoke just quietly enough, that he couldn’t make out what was said. When she let him go, Giles bent and picked up the bags again and carried them into the house. Buffy stood in the doorway looking out across the dark yard to where Spike was standing. At first she stood there with her hands folded in front of her, then moved them behind her back. Spike could tell that she was nervous and knew that he was the reason. Taking a last drag off his cigarette, he dropped it to the ground and stepped on it.
Squaring his shoulders and giving his head a twist until his neck popped, Spike started walking toward the door. The closer he got to the porch and the front door the more nervous he felt. His soul was squirming inside of him and if his heart could beat, it would probably have been pounding. Stepping up onto the porch, he stopped several feet back from the door, looking at Buffy. She was smiling at him, but he could tell that it was fixed and fake. He was close enough to her now that he could hear her heart, it was beating fast. He could also smell her now, the scent of her made him dizzy. He wanted to say something, but had no words. He would have fallen to his knees and begged for her forgiveness, but he knew forgiveness wasn’t possible. They both stood there looking at each other, both to nervous to do anything else.
A full minute or more of silence had passed. Spike had opened his mouth once to try to say something, but couldn’t speak. Buffy stepped back from the doorway and raised one hand up to hold onto the opened door, the other hand she kept behind her. At least another minute went by and still Buffy hadn’t invited him into the house. Spike was starting to fidget, was she going to refuse to invite him in, after he’d come all this way?
When Buffy finally did speak, her voice sounded frightened to his ears. “I …. we never revoked your invite, Spike. You can come inside …. whenever you want to.” She took a step further back from the door, as if to give him more room to enter.
Spike stopped breathing. Hearing that his invite to Buffys home had never been revoked was making him doubt his hearing. Cautiously he approached the door and tentatively reached out with one hand to test the threshold. When his hand past the boundary, he pulled it back quickly as if he’d been shocked. Taking in a deep breath of air, he stepped over the threshold as if he expected to be hit by something immediately. When nothing happened, he took two steps to one side to put more distance between himself and Buffy. Hearing a noise behind him he turned to see Giles standing in front of the fireplace and Willow standing in front of the couch. The look on Giles face was calm and controlled, showing no obvious emotions. Willows was a different matter, he could read nervous tension radiating off of her in waves. She had a fixed smile on her face as she looked at him, but he could see her eyes were darting from him to Buffy behind him. When she spoke her voice cracked with nervousness. “Hey Spike, welcome back to Sunnydale.”
Spike cocked an eyebrow at Willow as he took a couple more steps further into the room and over to the side, leaving a way for Buffy to enter the room without having to come to close to him. Willow blushed and dropped her eyes from his face to stare at the floor. When Buffy closed the front door, then walked past him to stand next to Willow, her steps were quick and nervous. Spike still hadn’t said anything, his nerves and uncertainty were choking off his ability to speak.
Twice Buffy tried to say something and both times she faltered. Spike could see how nervous she was and her tension was sending his own nerves out of control. Looking over at Giles he begged with his eyes that Giles do something. Giles had been nervous about this meeting himself, but of the four people in the room he was by far the calmest.
Breaking the silence in the room, Giles said “Yes, well, now that you’re here Spike, would you like to get settled in …. or have something to eat?”
Buffy spoke next, her speech quick and nervous sounding. “We have fresh blood, I got it today, right after Giles called me.” Buffy tried to look at Spike and smile, but could only hold eye contact for a few seconds. “We have chicken wings too, Willow picked them up on her way over. I could warm them up …. if you want?” Buffys voice seemed to fade at the end.
When Spike tried to answer, the first word out of his mouth was “No”, but much louder than he meant it to be. Taking a breath, he started again, “No, I’m fine. I ate before we left.” Taking another breath, holding it for a few moments, then breathing out, he said in a calmer voice. “I’d like to see the Niblet, if that’s alright with you?”
Buffy looked up at Spike now and he could see that there was pain and fear in her eyes. Spike felt certain that it was his presence that was causing both the pain and the fear, but when Buffy spoke he wasn’t as certain anymore, because the pain and the fear seemed to have a different focus, and there was also a note of desperate hope. “Oh, good, good, I’ll take you up to her room right now. I know Dawn will be happy to see you. She’s really missed you. I know it will make her happy.”
With quick jerky steps Buffy walked out of the room toward the stairs leading upstairs. She paused on the first step, waiting for Spike to follow her. Spike let Buffy lead the way up the stairs, staying five or six steps behind her. When he reached the top of the stairs she was waiting a few steps down the hallway for him. Once she was certain he was behind her she lead the way down the hall. As Spike started to walk past the bathroom door his stomach clinched and he felt nauseous. He slowed down and had to turn his eyes away from the door as he went past it. Buffy had stopped outside the last door in the hallway, the door to Dawns room. Taking a quick glance at Spike, Buffy opened the door quietly and entered the room. Spike took a deep breath and steeling himself for what was to come, he followed Buffy into Dawns room.
Spike had been in Dawns room before, numerous times, when he was taking care of her after Buffy had died. As he looked around the room he noticed the glaring changes. There was only one window in the room, but a heavy blanket had been nailed up over it to keep any sunlight from entering the room. The walls were still the same color that they had always been, but all of the posters and pictures that had been on the walls were now missing. The room had once been full of dolls, stuffed animals and a hundred other girly things that belonged to Dawn. Everything was missing, including all of her books, her radio, her CD player and CD’s, nothing that Spike remembered was anywhere to be seen. The bed was still in the same location, but pushed out further from the wall. Looking around quickly, Spike couldn’t see Dawn anywhere. But taking in a breath of air, Spike could smell her scent. Letting himself concentrate, he could also hear her heart beat, coming from behind the bed, next to the wall. Quietly he walked across the room to the foot of the bed and looking down at the floor he could see his Niblet laying on a pile of blankets, wearing his old leather duster. Still being very quiet, Spike knelt down on the floor at her feet and just looked at her laying there.
Looking at Dawn was like a physical pain to Spikes soul. It was like bands of hot steel were wrapped around his heart, squeezing tightly. Feelings of guilt, remorse, and sorrow filled his mind, bringing tears to his eyes. Dawn was lying on her side with her back against the wall, her legs were pulled up, almost in a fetal position. She was wearing his leather duster and her hands were grasping the front of it, holding it close around her. He could see that her hair was dirty and greasy from not being washed, and breathing in he could tell that she hadn’t bathed for a long time. Sitting on the floor, half under the bed, was an empty can of Spaghetti-O’s with a dirty spoon still in the can. Seeing her like this was more than Spike could deal with and a low moan escaped his lips.
The moan that escaped Spike was low, but apparently it was loud enough to awaken Dawn. When her eyes popped open and she saw Spike kneeling at her feet, she flinched away from him and drew herself up into an even tighter ball. Seeing her reaction, Spike flinched back from Dawn, but unconsciously one of his nicknames for her escaped his lips “Bit”.
Dawns eyes widened immediately as she stared at Spike for several seconds. Then moving faster than Spike had ever seen her move before, Dawn twisted her legs up under herself and threw herself at Spike. Dawn slammed against Spikes chest with a thud as she wrapped both of her arms around his neck and held on tightly. Her face was buried against his chest as if she were trying to burrow inside of him. She started talking and crying at the same time, her voice was desperate, pleading. “Spike, your back! Please don’t go! Please don’t leave me! Spike I love you! Don’t leave me Spike! I need you! I love you Spike! I need you! Please don’t leave me!” Dawn kept repeating these same and similar things over and over as she cried. Spike kept his arms wrapped around Dawn and speaking to her lowly, he kept repeating “I’m back Niblet. I won’t leave you. I love you too. I need you too. I love you Bit. I won’t leave you. I‘ll never leave you again.”
Buffy had stood back when Spike had knelt down at Dawns feet. She had witnessed the tears that came to his eyes and heard the moan that escaped his lips. When Dawn had woken up suddenly and flinched away from him, Buffy saw the pain flash across his face. She also witnessed Dawn launching herself from the floor into Spikes arms and heard all the things she said to him, just as she heard all the things he said to her. With tears running down her face Buffy backed out of the room and closed the door behind her. Neither Spike or Dawn noticed her leaving.
***
When Buffy entered the living room, the conversation between Giles and Willow ended. Buffy sat down on the couch next to Willow. Tears were running down her face. She bent over and buried her face against her knees as she wrapped both arms up around her head. She was crying and sobbing so hard her whole body was shaking. Willow was immediately down off the couch, kneeling on the floor next to Buffy, wrapping her arm over Buffys back to hold on to her while she brought the other hand up to Buffys head and tried to clasp one of her hands. Giles had gotten out of his chair quickly and was kneeling down in front of Buffy, he also had one hand up trying to take one of her hands. Both of them had assumed that things had gone badly upstairs and were trying to sooth Buffy. They were both saying things like “I’m so sorry Buffy.” “We could only hope Buffy, we couldn’t be sure it would work.” “Maybe if Spike is willing to try again tomorrow it will go better the next time.” “I’m sorry it didn’t work Buffy.”
When Buffy suddenly sat up straight it surprised both Willow and Giles. Tears were still flowing from her eyes, but she had a real smile on her face. It was kind of twisted, but it was real, the first in a long time. Grasping both Willows and Giles hands she gave them a squeeze. Trying to talk through her tears, Buffy gasped out “Their together, holding each other. She loves him so much. He loves her too. Their both up there crying, but it’s okay, their both okay. He told her he wouldn’t ever leave her again. She’s happy. She’s crying, but I think she’s happy.”
“Thank God, Buffy” Giles said with all sincerity “Thank God!”
Releasing Giles hand so that she could wipe some of the tears away from her eyes, Buffy looked at Giles and said truthfully “Right now, I’m just thanking Spike, for coming home.”
****
(10/05)
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