Chapter 6
Pain and Gratitude

The scooby gang sat around in Buffy and Dawn's living room while Willow amused herself by investigating the wiring in the robot that they'd dragged back from Glory's mansion. They had arrived back at the Summers' house to find Dawn and Tara waiting for them. Buffy hadn't liked leaving Dawn on her own, but she'd figured that she was safe enough while Glory's attention was focused on Spike. And Dawn told her that she hadn't been alone for that long, since when Tara had returned to her place to find Willow out, she called Buffy's house and Dawn filled her in on the details. Tara had gone straight over to the house to be with Dawn and wait for the guys to return.

Buffy flashed a grateful smile at Tara, and then shuddered as her eyes fell on the Buffybot. She hadn't been able to have it out with Spike yet, as he had remained unconscious since they'd found him, with only brief incoherent spans of wakefulness.

Dawn was looking from the robot to Buffy, openly amazed. She hadn't actually seen them both together before then, as she'd left the room when Xander had started talking about Buffy like she was crazy. The real Buffy had told her about it quickly before she left to find Spike, but she hadn't seen them both at the same time. It was a little frightening to realise how easily someone could be copied.

What freaked her out more was the fact that Spike had had the thing built. Dawn hadn't been told the whole story, but she knew what Spike would have wanted it for. The thought made her sick, and also made her feel a bit betrayed. She'd thought Spike was pretty decent, but building a robot of her sister to have sex with? That was just gross. And disturbing. As much as she liked Spike, she didn't understand why Buffy hadn't staked him for this.

Buffy was reserving judgement on the staking issue until she could talk to Spike. She wanted his version of events, and then she would decide whether what he did for her and Dawn was enough to make her forgive the robot making thing. She rather thought that it would be. She was surprised at the amount of gratitude she felt for him. He'd been tortured for information about the key, and he hadn't said a word. She'd seen how badly beaten up he was, and she suspected that there was a lot of damage that she couldn't see. The fact that Spike would endure that for her and Dawn showed just how much he really had changed.

Buffy knew she couldn't stake Spike now. But that didn't mean she was going to tell him that.

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Spike woke slowly, and with the return of consciousness came the return of the pain. He could feel it lancing through his entire body, but mostly concentrated around his head and chest area. His legs were pretty much intact, but that didn't mean that Glory had neglected them entirely.

He tried to open his eyes to see where he was, but he could only see through one and what he could see was blurry and indistinct. He lay still and tried to relax, using his other senses. He could tell he was lying on a bed, but that could mean anything. Glory had a bed. He could smell something familiar, something comforting, but his mind was too foggy for him to make a connection.

He hoped he was somewhere safe, somewhere that wasn't near Glory. He couldn't remember much other that being tortured, and the pain. Spike tried to think. Glory had wanted the key… and he hadn't told her. Why hadn't he told her? He must have had a good reason to put up with the pain. The key… Dawn! That's why he hadn't told her. He couldn't give up Dawn. Spike was confused. Why couldn't he give up Dawn? He was a vampire, evil, he should have been happy to do it.

No, that wasn't right. He wasn't really a vampire any more. He remembered that. Sunlight and crosses didn't hurt him. Glory had found that out. She'd tried to use crosses and holy water on him, and he'd laughed at her. It really had been very funny, she'd gotten so pissed. Spike tried to laugh until the movement served to remind him that he was in a great deal of pain.

There was still something missing, a gap in his memory. He'd tried to escape, but why had Glory taken him in the first place? That's right, her moron followers had thought he was the key. Why? Suddenly it all clicked together. They'd thought the Slayer was protecting him. But it was a robot, not the real thing.

The real thing?

Buffy!

Spike sat bolt upright on the bed, and then cried out in pain as his broken ribs dug into him and the wounds on his chest broke open and began to bleed again. He fell back limp on the bed as the pain coursed through him, almost making him want to die. He knew that his injuries wouldn't kill him, but that didn't mean they didn't hurt. He healed fast, but he was so beat up that even his vampire healing wouldn't deal with this in a week or two.

The next couple of months were not going to be much fun.

Spike heard voices downstairs and finally realised he was in Buffy's house. From what he could figure he was in her mother's room, since the bed didn't smell like either Buffy or Dawn. It didn't really smell of anything, like no one had used it for a while. That tracked with his original assessment. He wondered if he was ever going to be able to move. He was really hungry, and he didn't think that the guys downstairs would be particularly interested in serving him blood in bed.

He was wondering if they'd heard him cry out when he heard footsteps on the stairs. There was still a heated conversation going on downstairs, and Spike had no doubt that it was about him. More specifically, he thought it was probably about what they were going to do with him. Or to him. He wondered if they'd found out about the robot yet. It was a definite stakage for him if they had.

He didn't have time to dwell on the issue. His ears alerted him to the quiet sound of the door opening. Someone slipped in silently and closed the door behind them. He could tell it was Buffy, even without looking. Her smell, the silent way she moved, he knew it all. That was one of the more positive results of obsession. He would never be fooled by a doppelganger.

Spike tried to open his eyes and turn his head so he could see her. He groaned when the side of his face touched the pillow, and instantly jerked his head up straight again. Whatever Glory had done to his face, it wasn't pleasant. Buffy was at his side before the pain receded.

"Don't move, Spike," she said quietly. "It'll hurt more if you move. And I don't want you passing out again." Buffy seemed to realise that she was being too nice to him. "If you pass out, I won't get answers. And I want answers, Spike."

Inside his head, Spike swore. So she wasn't going to forgive him then? From her attitude towards him she obviously knew about the robot. Bloody hell, was nothing good enough for her? He'd been tortured to within an inch of his existence, and she still wasn't going to forgive him. If he had the energy, Spike would have gotten angry. What was the point? It would never be enough for her.

Buffy saw Spike's body tense up and realised that she may have gone a bit too far for him to handle in his current state. Her voice really hadn't been very forgiving. She softened her tone. "Are you hungry, Spike?"

Spike moved his head in a barely perceptible imitation of a nod. He felt Buffy get up and leave the room, and he was now thoroughly confused. She always sent him such mixed signals. One moment she was angry enough to stake him, and the next she's offering to get him dinner. He never knew where he stood with her. He always had to be on his toes, and never let his guard down. Being near Buffy always filled him with a feeling of excitement and anticipation, and he had to stick around to find out what was coming next. Never a dull moment. He wondered if she felt anything similar when she was around him.

Probably not.

His musings were interrupted when Buffy returned with a mug of warm blood. Just the smell of it was enough to drive him crazy. He may not have a taste for human blood any more, but that didn't mean he didn't need anything at all. He still needed blood to survive, and it would also help him heal. He'd grown accustomed to the taste of animal blood now, and at some point since he'd been helping out Buffy, he found he actually preferred the taste.

He tried to lift his arms to grasp the mug Buffy was holding for him, but his body protested the movement and he tried not to groan. Buffy saw how much pain he was in, and felt guilty that he had been subjected to it because of her. Even if he was a vampire, Spike didn't deserve this. Nobody deserved this. It was barbaric. Spike looked so defeated that he couldn't even feed himself, and Buffy's heart wrenched in sympathy.

"Shhh, Spike. It's okay," she said, trying to make her voice as comforting as possible. "Don't move. I already told you that. Here, I'll help you." She held the mug up to his lips and held his head up a little, and although he wanted to protest about being fed like an infant, he was far too hungry. He swallowed his humiliation and opened his mouth. Buffy tilted the mug slowly so Spike could drink on his back without choking.

When the mug was empty Buffy slowly lowered his head to the pillow and moved back from the bed. Spike almost protested at the loss of contact. Buffy's presence had temporarily made him forget about the pain, or at least made him able to ignore it. He hurt too much for anything to make him forget about it.

He wondered why Buffy was still standing there. He hadn't opened his eyes, but he could feel her and she wasn't moving. Was she staring at him or was she trying not to look? Spike knew that he must look like hell. He probably looked worse than he felt, and considering how bad he felt…

"Was that enough?" came Buffy's voice. "Do you need more?"

Spike took a moment to make sense of her words. She actually sounded concerned. He managed to make a sound that he hoped sounded like a no, and wondered if she was concerned for him or concerned for her sister. Spike didn't know if Buffy knew he hadn't said anything. At first he had thought that she must know, since she wouldn't be being this nice to him otherwise, but doubt was creeping into his mind and suggesting that she was just trying to keep him alive until she could find out whether he'd given her up or not.

He felt Buffy still standing there and tried to sit up so he could see her. He got halfway up before the pain hit him, and he was able to catch a glimpse of Buffy moving towards him as he fell back and blackness claimed him.

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Buffy grimaced as Spike passed out again. He looked absolutely terrible, and she could see how much pain he was in. Some of the wounds on his chest had began to bleed again, and Buffy wondered if maybe they should have bandaged him up a little. They hadn't before, because they weren't quite sure of the best way to deal with injuries on a vampire. Doctoring the undead wasn't Buffy's usual line of work.

They had cleaned him up some though. Buffy had asked Willow to deal with Spike as best she could. They'd cleaned all the dried blood and the dirt from the elevator shaft out of his wounds, and they'd cleaned all the blood off his face. Willow had said that a lot of the cuts and things would heal quickly enough on their own, but she didn't know about the broken bones and the hole in his chest.

As she thought about it, Buffy looked at Spike's chest. There was a hole just above his heart that looked like it could have been made by a thin stake. If it was, Spike had come incredibly close to being dust. That thought worried her more than she liked.

Shaking her head, Buffy walked over to the door. Taking another look at Spike, she admitted to herself that he really had proven her trust in him. What he'd endured for them… the gratitude Buffy felt went beyond words. She decided that she'd really have to thank him the next time he came to.

Then, when he was better, she'd beat him up about the robot.

Buffy smiled at the thought and left the room, then headed downstairs to clean out Spike's mug. Walking past the lounge room on her way to the kitchen, she heard Willow speaking.

"I found it, I found where she's broken. Some of these wires got fried extra crispy. It's an easy fix."

"Will," Buffy called from the hallway, her tone obviously threatening.

"Not that I would…" said Willow sheepishly.

Buffy smiled to herself and went into the kitchen. Cleaning out a mug of blood wasn't one of her favourite pastimes, but if she left it until Spike could do it himself it would be even worse. A mug sitting in the kitchen with dried blood all over it? No thanks. Actual alive people had to eat in there too.

Just as she'd finished cleaning up the kitchen, Xander came in and leaned against the doorway. "We're all going to take off now, okay Buff?"

"Sure Xand," replied Buffy. "Thanks for all your help today."

Xander shrugged. "No problem. All in a day's work for a member of the Scooby Gang." He paused for a second, hesitating over his next question. "You're going to be all right here with dead-boy junior upstairs?"

Buffy smirked. "I think we'll be okay. Spike's not really in any condition to cause trouble. And didn't we agree to trust him?"

"Yeah, I guess… but he did build a robot Buffy. Are you just going to forget that? We all know what he wanted it for."

"Don't remind me," said Buffy. "I'm going to have enough nightmares as it is. But he also protected us, and he didn't tell Glory about Dawn. Don't you think he deserves some credit?"

Xander nodded, but Buffy could tell it was reluctant, and mostly for her benefit. She knew Xander still didn't trust Spike, and definitely didn't like him. He tolerated him because Buffy said she would trust him.

"Anyway, we're going to head out. You know Anya…" Buffy rolled her eyes, and Xander grinned. "Will and Tara have classes tomorrow and Giles has to open the shop, so we thought we'd give you and the Dawnster a bit of peace for a change."

Buffy smiled, grateful. "Thanks. I think we could do with some alone time. The past couple of weeks haven't exactly been…" she trailed off and Xander walked over and gave her a hug.

"It'll get better Buffy," he whispered into her hair. "It'll get better."

Buffy gave him a quick squeeze and let him go. "You're a good friend Xander. We'll be okay. It's hard, but we'll get through." She took his hand and led him to the door where the others were waiting. Anya latched on the him and Buffy smiled to herself. Those two were a couple she'd never thought would last. She gave Willow a quick hug and bade everyone goodbye. Willow told her that they'd put the robot in the garage until they could get rid of it properly. Buffy didn't much like having a robotic copy of her in her house, but at least it was out of the way and somewhere where she wouldn't have to look at it.

She closed the door behind her friends and looked around, wondering where Dawn was. "Dawn?" she called.

"I'm upstairs," came the faint reply.

"What'cha doing?"

"Nothing."

Buffy heard the context behind Dawn's 'nothing'. She could guess what her little sister was up to. Buffy went quietly up the stairs and straight to her mom's room, where Spike was currently convalescing. Dawn had always been friendly with Spike. Even the first time she met him, when he didn't have a chip. He'd come to help her deal with Angelus, and Buffy's identity as the slayer was finally revealed to her family. Dawn didn't get the whole 'evil vampire' thing at first. Spike was the first vampire she met, and she'd thought he was cool.

Buffy opened the door just enough to look inside, and quietly enough that Dawn wouldn't hear. She saw Spike still unconscious on the bed, and Dawn was sitting in a comfy armchair across the room, just watching him.

Dawn was fascinated by the way Spike didn't breathe when he was asleep. He did when he was awake, despite the fact that vampires didn't really need to. 'Some habits of life must be hard to break,' she thought. 'I wonder if he ever just forgets to breathe when he's awake.'

Buffy opened the door fully and startled Dawn out of her reverie. Buffy almost laughed at the way she looked guilty for being there. She got up to leave, but Buffy waved her back down and went over and sat next to Dawn on the arm of the chair.

Dawn looked up at her and then back to Spike. "He saved us today, didn't he?" she asked in a whisper, not wanting to wake Spike. Buffy nodded. "Is he going to be okay?"

Buffy sighed. "I think he'll be all right. I know he looks pretty bad, but he's a vampire. Vampires heal quickly, so he should be back to normal in a month or so. He just needs a bit of time." She glossed over how bad his injuries really were. She didn't want to alarm Dawn unnecessarily, although it was quite obvious that Spike was really badly hurt.

Dawn always knew when Buffy was holding something back. She was obviously trying not to worry her, but she could see for herself how badly Spike was injured. Even vampire healing wouldn't totally deal with all of it in a month.

"Will you let him stay?"

"What?" Buffy was surprised by the question.

"Can he stay here while he gets better?" Dawn made it sound like the proposition was entirely reasonable.

Buffy was still doubtful. "I don't know Dawn…" She knew Spike needed help, but having him around the house all the time…

"Come on Buffy," Dawn was determined. "He's like this because of us, the least we can do is put him up. At leat until he can take care of himself. And Glory took him from his crypt didn't she? Do you want her to take him again?"

Buffy looked at her hands, feeling guilty all over again. "You're right. He's definitely earned it. Fine, have it your way. He can stay," Buffy paused and gave Dawn an evil look. "but you have to help feed him. There's no way I'm going to give him blood three times a day. Do you know how disgusting it is?"

Dawn tried not to laugh at her sister's tone. She could tell that Buffy didn't really mind that much, and it was the first time she'd seen her this relaxed in a while. Buffy always had too many things on her mind, too many people to take care of, and too many lives to juggle. It was good to see that she was going to finally allow herself to live again.

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Buffy smiled after her sister as she left the room to get ready for bed. They'd sat in the armchair and talked quietly, sometimes ignoring the fact that there was a beaten up vampire sleeping in the room, sometimes talking about it. Buffy finally realised how much she'd drifted away from Dawn since their mother had died, and she regretted it. Dawn had needed her, and Buffy had been too lost to realise it.

But they were all they had, and eventually that breeds stronger bonds. Buffy thought that they might actually be getting closer now. Strange how certain events can change your perspective on things. Dawn could have been revealed today, but she wasn't. She'd been saved by an old enemy, someone Buffy was supposed to hate.

Looking at Spike, Buffy hoped that Glory wouldn't try and torture anyone else in an effort to find the key. Any one of her other friends would have died from the wounds that Spike sustained. She couldn't handle it if she lost someone else. Losing her mother had made her see death as something so much more real than she had ever imagined. Death had always seemed like a defeatable opponent. She'd died herself once, and she'd come back. She'd always assumed that she was going to be the first to die, and she had been, but she had thought she was going to be the first to stay dead. She had the dangerous calling, she faced death every day. One day it was going to get her and not let her go. She'd thought that she would be first, and as such had never prepared for the possibility of losing her family.

And it hurt almost more than she could bear.

Buffy wondered how she would be coping without Dawn in her life. True, she wouldn't have to deal with Glory, but she would be alone. Intellectually Buffy knew that she had lived the first 19 years or so of her life as an only child, but her memories told her differently. Thinking abut life without Dawn was almost painful. She couldn't just imagine her gone, because if she was gone, she was dead. She couldn't just stop existing as Dawn and go back to being some mystical swirl of energy. The person who was Dawn would still be dead.

Buffy swore to herself that she would never let any of those monks who created Dawn take her back. When Glory and the threat she represented was gone, Dawn was staying right where she was. The key was her sister now, and she was not going to let that go. The monks sent the key to her, and they were just going to have to accept the fact that they weren't getting it back. If any of them were still alive.

Spike groaned, and Buffy's attention was instantly fixed on the blond vampire. She got up and moved closer to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. This close, she could see that the smaller wounds on his face and chest had already healed, and some of the swelling around his eyes and jaw had gone down.

Spike opened his eyes to see Buffy sitting next to him. He could see more clearly now, though his left eye still wouldn't open fully. He saw the concerned expression on Buffy's face, and decided that he hadn't dreamed the earlier encounter.

"Hey pet," he croaked out.

"Feel any better yet, Spike?" asked Buffy.

Spike fought down the urge to laugh. "I think I do, actually. And considering I feel like I've been tortured, I really must have felt bad before.

Buffy chuckled. "You look a bit better than a couple of hours ago, anyway. And you still look like shit. If you feel even half as bad as you look, then you have my sympathies."

"Half as bad?" Spike sounded indignant. "I can't really see myself, but I reckon I feel about twice as bad a I look. And you should be sympathetic, Slayer. I'm only like this because of you."

"I know," said Buffy quietly, and Spike would have kicked himself if he could. He could hear the guilt in her voice. He hadn't meant to really make her feel bad. He was about to apologise when Buffy stopped him.

"Are you hungry?"

"What? Yeah, a bit."

Buffy got up off the bed. "Okay, I'll be right back. See if you can sit up yet, and maybe I won't have to feed you myself this time. Pouring blood down your throat is a little offputting for my own meals."

Spike smiled at her as she left the room. He felt like hell, but just being around her made him feel better. The pain didn't go away, but she took his mind off it. He wondered if he should stay where he was so Buffy would have to feed him again, but he decided not to push his luck. He slowly lifted himself up and lent back against the headboard. He'd just managed to find a position where his ribs didn't dig into him when the door opened and Buffy came in again.

Buffy was relieved when she saw him sitting up. Maybe he would heal faster than she originally thought. She gave him the mug of warm blood and retreated back to her chair while he drank it. She realised that his game face didn't come out when he drank any more. She remembered when Spike had been staying with Giles when he first got his chip he had always changed whenever he was hungry. Maybe it was just something else about him that had changed over the past year.

Spike smirked into his cup when he noticed Buffy starting at him. He looked away, not wanting to embarrass her or do anything to make her kick him out. He doubted that he'd be able to make it back to his crypt if she did. On the upside, he'd have all day to drag himself there. He definitely would have been fried a month ago.

He wondered if he would have talked had Glory caught him a month before. Sure, he still loved Buffy, but he hadn't changed so far that he wouldn't have been able to do it. He was still a full vampire then, thinking he was still meant to be the epitome of evil. He might have spilled just to get his groove back. The thought made him sick. After what he went through that day, he had now sold himself to Dawn as much as Buffy. He was theirs, heart, body, and whatever substitute he used for his soul.

He drained the last of the blood and held the mug out to Buffy.

She glared at him. "I'm not your slave, Spike."

"No, but I don't think you want a blood-covered mug sitting around up here. You know how bad blood is when it dries. Now, I would do it myself, but I've got this little problem where I can't move…"

Buffy just glared at him some more. "You're a monster Spike, you really are."

Despite the glare her tone was light, so Spike decided to play. "Maybe. So what am I doing in the Slayer's house?"

"You're getting better so I can kick your butt."

"What?"

"What, I'm meant to forget the whole robot me thing? No, Spike. That's going to hurt you."

Spike had the decency to look guilty. "I didn't do anything with it, pet. Your Watcher must have told you that. I didn't even want the thing when it showed up. I ordered it just after you'd deinvited me, I really was pretty pissed at you."

Buffy nodded. "I know. And I know what you did for Dawn and I today, which is why you're getting off light. Light meaning you're not staked. I heard some of the things you said to Glory, and I have to say, I'm impressed. I almost fell off the wall when you called her a cheap skanky whore."

Spike laughed. "It was worth the broken ribs for the look on her face. I'd like to tell her again if I could do it without bloody dying."

Buffy smiled. "I don't doubt that. And the Bob Barca deal? Inspiring."

"Always hated that guy."

Buffy got up and took the empty blood mug from Spike, then walked to the door. "Try to sleep some more." She paused after opening the door, her back to him. "Thank you, for what you did today." The door closed behind her.

"Anytime, luv."

Chapter 7
Clarity

Sitting in the bath, Glory raged silently. Silently was something new for her, but being loud would bring in those scabby morons that worshipped her, and she didn't want to see them. They always failed, and seeing something as ugly as them never made her feel good.

So Glory raged silently about the key. She knew it was human, so it had to be someone around the Slayer. The vampire was a dead end. He was never going to talk. She'd seen it in his eyes, in the way he defied her. There was something off about that vampire.

He wasn't the key. He couldn't be the key, because the key was pure. Vampires weren't. But there was something about the Slayer's pet vampire that tickled her mind, and her curiosity. He hadn't been affected by crosses or holy water. He'd laughed when she'd had him dragged into the sunlight. She'd had to rely on the torture that worked for humans, and while that had hurt him, he knew that he would still be alive at the end of it.

And he didn't smell right. He smelt like a vampire, but he didn't. He didn't have a soul, Glory could smell those a mile away. So why was he helping the Slayer? Vampires were meant to be evil. Okay, they were pathetic evil, but most of them at least tried. This one seemed to be proud that he wasn't. Proud that he was shaming his kind. Normally, she would have loved it.

At the moment, it was just pissing her off.

She couldn't find the key. It was so close, but she couldn't find it. She had told the morons to spy on the Slayer and her friends, and bring her the key. That hadn't worked, they'd brought her a vampire. So she'd made them tell her everything that they'd seen, and she was trying to work it out herself.

It wasn't the mother, she was dead. And humans had parents, that's how things worked. And it wasn't the ex-demon either. Glory had been close enough to her before to sense the demon residue left behind in her. That ruled her out, because it made purity in her impossible.

The Watcher. He was a possibility, but Slayers had to have a Watcher. If he was the key, then there was no Watcher. He was a possibility, but a very small one.

The boy. He seemed useless, so what was he doing in the group? He was supposedly dating the demon girl, but they could fake that for cover. He also appeared to be very close to the Slayer. The boy was a better chance than the Watcher.

The witches. They made Glory think. The blond witch was new to the group, which made her seem a likely suspect but it could also mean nothing. The redhead actually had a life outside the group, and had too many associations with different people. She was out.

The only one left was the Slayer's sister. Glory actually kind of liked her. She had spunk. And what better way for the Slayer to protect the key than for it to be her own sister? But the monks would have had to create her over a decade ago. From the Slayer's relationship with her sister it was incredibly obvious that they had a real sibling relationship. That couldn't be faked. So the sister was out.

There was nobody left. It had to be one of them. The best chances were the boy and the blond witch. They were the only ones that seemed possible, but they didn't feel right. Just like the vampire hadn't felt right.

Maybe it was the vampire. After all, if the monks could fake humanity, they could fake impurity.

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Spike woke slowly, his thoughts drifting between dreaming and reality. As he became more aware, he decided he didn't like reality. Reality hurt. Cursing under his breath, Spike sat up slowly and was surprised to find that he really felt much better than he had the last time he was conscious.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly. He was a little unsteady on his feet, but he didn't collapse. Glory hadn't paid too much attention to his legs, something he was glad for. It was good that he was able to move around. He didn't know how long the Slayer's new nice act toward him was going to hold up. He was going to need to move if he was going to eat.

He walked over to the window and opened to curtains. He was surprised to find that the sun had just risen, and more surprised to find that he hadn't even thought about flinching in the sunlight. Sure, he'd been able to survive in sunlight for a while now, but 120 years of living in the night and fearing day isn't something you get over quickly.

Letting the curtains fall back Spike looked down at himself, surveying the damage. From what he could see of his chest, most of the cuts had healed to red lines, all but the deepest. And the hole in his chest still burned. Other than that, the only other damage he could see was bruises, and his ribs were still sore. He put a hand to his face and winced as the pressure caused pain, but he wasn't surprised. Glory had really gone to work on his head. He still could only half open one of his eyes.

He looked around for a shirt, thinking it probably wasn't a good idea to go wandering around the house looking like he did. He couldn’t hide his face, but he could cover his chest. Maybe he could convince the Nibblet that he wasn't as badly hurt as he looked.

A quick scan of the floor and the chairs didn't reveal his shirt, and he remembered that it had been torn and bloody anyway. Spike glanced at the cupboard, but didn't think he would find anything in there. This was Joyce's room, and he couldn't see her keeping spare men's shirts in her wardrobe. Realizing that he would find nothing here, Spike opened the door to the room and crept quietly out into the hall.

He knew that Buffy and Dawn were typically late risers, Buffy because she was normally out late, and Dawn because she just liked to stay up late. He didn't want to wake them, Summers women were probably bloody cranky in the mornings. He walked slowly down the stairs to the kitchen, and was relieved to find it empty.

Opening the fridge, Spike smiled when he found that the bottom shelf had about ten bags of blood on it. Pulling one out, he closed the fridge and fished his mug out of the sink where it was evidently been soaking. He rinsed it out and poured the blood into it, the smell making him almost hungry enough to drink it cold. He could, and he had before, but cold blood was too thick for his tastes. Warm went down easier.

After putting the mug in the microwave and setting it for a few minutes, Spike headed slowly down to the basement. He thought maybe he'd be able to find a shirt there, maybe something someone had left behind. Privately, he was hoping that he would find something belonging to the Slayer's father or something, anything but one of captain cardboard's old shirts.

Turning on the light, Spike despaired of finding anything. The basement was a mess. It wasn't the sort of mess that you get when you just throw things down randomly, it was more controlled. It was the kind of mess you get when you've tried to be neat, but there's simply too much stuff. The kind of mess where you go through every box and what you're looking for is in the very last one you search. The kind of mess where it is impossible to find anything.

Spike didn't even bother. He turned off the light and went back upstairs, thinking he'd look in the laundry. He closed the door to the basement, and spun around when he heard a foot scuff the floor.

Dawn saw Spike wince when he moved too quickly. She hadn't expected to find him out of bed, and looking at him she thought he still looked like the walking dead. Which he was, technically, but he usually didn't look like he'd been dead for a week or two.

"Morning Nibblet," said Spike, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.

"What are you doing up, Spike?"

He shrugged. "I was bored. Well, and hungry." The microwave beeped. "Mind fetching my breakfast? Walking wounded here and all."

Dawn sighed and Spike sat down at the table. She got his mug out of the microwave, and tried not to look disgusted. Knowing Spike drank blood was one thing, getting it out of the microwave for him was another. She wondered how she would ever be able to heat up pizza again.

"Thanks. Don't suppose there's a chance of a shirt around here somewhere?"

"Sure," said Dawn, trying not to sound disappointed. Even with the cuts and stuff on him, he was still amazing to look at. She quickly went to the laundry and fetched Spike a shirt. When she gave it to him, Spike looked at her quizzically.

"This is my shirt."

"Yep."

"Why do you have one of my shirts? Buffy stealing my clothes now?"

Dawn snorted. "Hardly. We got Xander to go by your crypt and get some of your stuff since Buffy said you would be staying a while. Your other shirt was covered in blood, so you can't wear that. And it's ripped too. Of course, Xander can't tell the difference between clean and dirty clothes, so we had to wash that for you." She pointed to the shirt he was buttoning up.

"Remind me to thank him. No, sod that. I'll thank you and big sis. He only did it because you asked him to, right?"

Dawn shook her head. "Actually, when Buffy told him you were going to stay, he went and got them himself. Heard him muttering something about not wanting you walking around naked. Personally…" she looked slyly at Spike.

He tried to look shocked while trying not to laugh. "Hey, ease off there little bit. Don't let the Slayer hear you saying that. Stake me good and proper then, she would."

Dawn smiled. "She wouldn't. Not after what you did for us. Thanks for that, by the way. Besides, I think she…" Dawn suddenly cut off as Buffy walked into the kitchen. "…is grateful as well," she finished, hoping she didn't sound desperate.

Buffy just raised an eyebrow, but let it slide. "Uh-huh. Dawn, you should eat something. You've got school soon."

"I know. But have you seen what's sitting here?" She gestured to Spike, who looked indignant. "How can I eat when I've just seen him enjoy a nice cup of warm blood?"

Buffy grimaced. "I see your point. I guess I'm just a bit more used to it than you."

"Ladies," said Spike. "Sitting right over here. Thinking about getting insulted. Do I make comments about how disgusting your race's traditional food is?"

"What's our traditional food?" asked Dawn.

Spike shrugged. "I don't know. That's why I don't comment on it. McDonald's, maybe?"

Buffy laughed. "Probably. Just finish up Spike. I want Dawn to get to school at some point today. And before she does that, she needs to eat."

"Don't worry about it, Buffy," said Dawn. "I think I've lost my appetite. I'll skip breakfast this morning."

"Dawn, you need to eat."

"You're not."

"Not yet. But I don't have to get to school. You do. I'll eat later."

To Spike, this sounded like a regular argument. Buffy's voice sounded tired, like she couldn't be bothered, and Dawn sounded like it was all routine. As he thought about it, he realized that neither of the girls looked like they'd been eating properly.

"Pet, Nibblet," interrupted Spike, "How about I make you both breakfast?" Buffy and Dawn both looked disgusted for a minute, and Spike realized he'd been misunderstood. "Not blood, luv. Pancakes."

Buffy looked relieved, then skeptical. "Pancakes?"

"Sure, " Spike smiled. "You'd be amazed at what you can learn to do from daytime television."

"I'd like pancakes," put in Dawn.

"No problem Platelet. As long as you have to ingredients?" Buffy nodded. "Great. Be about 20 minutes, so why don't you go get ready for school?" Dawn glanced at Buffy, then left the kitchen and headed upstairs.

As Spike moved around the kitchen looking for what he needed, Buffy watched him from the table. He seemed like a totally different person. The last time she'd seen him before she rescued him from Glory he had been upset and confused, and now he seemed… peaceful. Buffy couldn't think of a better word. He was back to his usual self, but without too many cutting remarks. Suddenly feeling awkward, Buffy tried to make conversation.

"I'm surprised you're moving about. I thought you'd be in bed for at least another day."

Spike looked over his shoulder, but didn't stop what he was doing. "Couldn't stand it. Glory didn't pay my legs much attention, so I can walk fine."

"You still look like hell."

Spike smirked, then winced. "Well, she seemed to like hitting me in the face." Buffy immediately looked guilty, and Spike could have kicked himself. "Don't worry about it pet. I don't think it's as bad as it looks. Just bruises and cuts, they'll be gone in no time."

Buffy tried to smile. "Yeah, vampire healing. One of the perks, I suppose. Is there anything worse?"

Spike shrugged, trying to pretend that he wasn't that hurt, trying to sound nonchalant. "I think some of my ribs are broken, they'll take a while to heal. And my right arm hurts when I use it too much. I think so long as no one tries to kill me again," he shot a glace at Buffy, "I'll be good as new in a week."

Buffy sighed, relieved. "Good. I'm sorry you got hurt. You shouldn't have been involved like that."

Spike flipped a pancake onto a plate and handed it to Buffy. "Don't worry about it. Won't kill me."

"It might."

"Take a lot more than this," he gestured to himself.

"I guess," said Buffy. "You're healing a lot faster than I thought you would. I guess Glory needs lessons on how to torture vampires."

Spike shuddered. "I hope nobody gives them to her. I might be healing, but it still hurt."

Dawn walked back into the kitchen, and Spike handed her a plate with a couple of pancakes. "Thanks," said Dawn. She sat down next to Buffy and began to eat. "Hey, these are really good, Spike."

Spike smiled. "Glad you like them. Don't really have much call to cook, but I do know how." He began to clean up, have used all the mixture. By the time he was done, Dawn and Buffy were finished eating, and Dawn was about to leave for school.

She grabbed her book bag and walked to the front door. "See you this afternoon, Buffy, Spike."

"Have fun," called Buffy.

"Buffy, it's school," replied Dawn from the door.

"Oh. Right. Well, don't have fun then. Don't get expelled."

"That's you, remember?"

Spike tried not to laugh at Buffy's expression. He heard the front door close, and turned to Buffy. "She got you there. What have you got going today?"

Buffy shrugged. "I was meant to be looking after you, but it seems that you don't really need it."

"Looking after me? I'm touched, Slayer."

"It's nothing personal. I'm still going to beat you up as soon as you're healthy again."

The comment was typical Buffy, but Spike could tell her heart wasn't in it. He tried to get her riled up. "What if I fight back?"

Buffy froze, knowing Spike was perfectly capable of fighting back now. She'd almost forgotten that his chip wasn't working any more. Then she remembered that he didn't know that she knew, and decided to play along. "You can't fight back. Well, not without getting a massive migraine. You can't even try to beat me up any more Spike. That's very sad. And pathetic."

Spike smiled, thinking how much of a shock it would be if he actually did fight back. Buffy wouldn't see it coming. "I'll fight back one day. You'll never see me coming."

"I will. And if you fight back, you die. We've made this clear haven't we?"

Spike put his hands up, doing his best to be non-threatening. "Hey, easy there Slayer. No need for the death threats. You know I'm not going to try and kill you. I mean, I'm bloody sunlight vampire now. Or did you forget?"

Buffy shook her head. "I didn't forget. You seem okay with that now. You weren't before. What happened?"

Spike just shrugged. "I worked it out. I worked out what I did to change, why I changed, and I accepted it. I mean, I don't have any of those nasty vampire weaknesses any more. This thing has a huge upside."

"So you're not upset that you're not the big bad any more?"

Spike shook his head. "I really haven't been for the past year or so. Now I just have a good excuse."

"I'm glad you're okay with it," said Buffy, getting up from the table. Spike took her plate and put it in the sink. "We really need your help right now, especially to protect Dawn. I can't do it by myself." She looked down at herself, suddenly embarrassed, and realized that she was still in a bathrobe. "I'm going to go and get dressed. If you want to change, your clothes are in the laundry. Oh, and have a shower. You still have blood on you."

As Buffy walked out of the kitchen, Spike called after her. "I will help. Whatever you need." Buffy didn't reply, but Spike smiled to himself. Buffy hadn't been antagonistic toward him yet, and that was definitely a good sign. Things might finally be starting to look up.

------------

Buffy was reading on her bed when she heard the phone ring. She hadn't even had time to get up when it stopped, so she assumed Spike had answered the phone. She went back to reading, figuring that Spike would call her if it was for her. These days, it was usually someone trying to sell her something.

There was a knock on her door, and Spike's voice drifted through the wood. "Buffy? The phone's for you. It's Dawn's school."

Buffy couldn't jump off the bed fast enough. She raced into her mother's room, terrified that something had happened to Dawn. She picked up the phone, and a stray thought drifting through her head informed her that she really should move the phone into her room now.

"Hello?"

"Is this Buffy Summers?" came the reply.

"Yes. Has something happened? Is Dawn okay?" she couldn't keep the worry out of her voice.

The lady on the other end of the line must have heard it, since she obviously did her best to be calming. "No, nothing's happened. But we are very worried about your sister. The principal would like you to come in this afternoon so she can talk to you and Dawn. There's a few problems with Dawn at school, and we think that maybe it would be best if you come in."

"Problems?" Buffy was still worried.

"Nothing drastic, and nothing that hasn't happened before. Don't panic. Can you come for a meeting at three this afternoon?"

Buffy nodded, then felt like an idiot. "Yeah, I can come. Will you tell Dawn, or do I need to?"

"We've already talked to Dawn, so everything is organized. Thank you Ms. Summers, we'll see you this afternoon." The line went dead.

Buffy put the phone back in its cradle, and turned to see Spike leaning on the doorframe. "Is everything okay?" he asked, and Buffy could hear her own worry mirrored in his voice.

Buffy nodded, then shook her head. "I'm not sure. The principal wants to talk to me and Dawn together this afternoon. The lady on the phone sad that she's having problems at school, but it's noting drastic."

"But you're still worried." It wasn't a question.

"Of course. Dawn never had trouble at school before this whole key business. She did better than me, anyway."

Spike walked over to her and, testing his luck, gave her a quick hug. He pulled away before she could hit him, but from the look on her face there was no need. She actually looked almost grateful.

"It'll be all right, pet," he said softly. "You'll see."

------------

Buffy sat nervously in the foyer waiting for 3 o'clock and for Dawn to show. She wished she hadn't told Spike not to come. He'd wanted to, which had surprised her, but considering the way he looked at the moment he probably shouldn't be out in public.

Without something to occupy her attention, Buffy was driving herself crazy with all the things she thought the principal could might her. They ranged from mildly bad to completely horrific, and most people would think most of them were unrealistic scenarios. But those people weren't in a family with a Slayer and a key, and they didn't have to worry about a hell god.

Buffy did, and with everything going on in her life right now, she felt she was entitled to some freaking out.

She was finally distracted from her thoughts when Dawn came around the corner looking dejected and worried. She'd been let out early from class for the meeting, and unlike Buffy, she had a fairly good idea what it was for. Buffy was totally going to freak.

She was surprised when Buffy got up and hugged her. She had expected to be glared at, for her to demand an explanation. She didn't know that Buffy was just so relieved to see her, and upset to see her looking dejected. Dawn returned the hug, but she couldn't stop making herself worry about what Buffy was going to think of her.

They broke apart, and Buffy smiled as reassuringly as she could at Dawn and stroked her hair. It was a familiar gesture, something that Buffy would do to comfort Dawn whenever she was upset or in trouble. Dawn tried to smile back, but Buffy could tell she was worried and uncertain.

Buffy had felt better the moment Dawn had showed up, and most of the things she had been imagining were no longer an issue. Dawn was alive and in one piece, and that made for something right in the world. Whatever the principal had to say couldn't be that bad.

The receptionist chose that moment to call them in, so Buffy didn't have to wait long to find out.

------------

Xander was headed toward the magic shop when he first became aware that he was being watched. Construction had knocked off early, since the delivery trucks hadn't showed up with their new supplies. They had needed a truckload of specially treated timber, and it was meant to arrive that morning. They'd done everything they could with what they had, but until the trucks arrived, nothing would get done.

He was walking because the site was close to the magic shop. It was easier to leave his car parked there than find a park on the street. Feeling eyes on him, he wondered if that had been a good idea. He picked up the pace a bit, but his path to the shop took him through some back alleys, and with Glory around he suddenly wished he'd taken the long way.

Even without Glory, this was still Sunnydale.

But it was day. Xander didn't really expect to be attacked during the day. This might be the Hellmouth, but vampires still formed the major part of the demon population. He wondered if maybe it was just someone normal trying to mug him. Sometimes human criminals got forgotten in the abundance of supernatural bad guys.

Still walking fast, Xander prayed that someone was going to mug him. Usually, weird thought, but with everything he'd seen a human with a knife would be like an infant with a lollipop.

He tried to look behind him without appearing obvious. He didn't want to run, because if you run, someone will chase you, and they might be faster than you. If you keep walking, they should just keep tailing you. If you walk, you can hear if someone is trying to creep up on you. Walking was safe. Well, safer.

In most circumstances.

Xander didn't know what circumstances he was in. He was nearing the magic shop, but he wasn't close enough. He wouldn't be close enough until he was inside. Not for the first time, Xander wished he'd done something about protecting himself. Willow was a witch, and Buffy was the Slayer. What was he? Even Spike was more able to protect himself.

As soon as he got to the magic shop, he was asking Buffy for fighting lessons.

Assuming he got there.

He'd picked up a few tricks from just being around for the past couple of years, but for some things, it was nowhere near enough. Xander realised that he'd come almost to the verge of running, and cursed himself for a fool. He stopped, and turned around, deliberately being obvious. There was no one, or nothing, in sight, but that never meant anything. He shrugged and resumed walking, trying to keep to a casual pace and pretend nothing was wrong.

He'd shown that he knew something was there, and that had been his only advantage. He'd now given himself a different one. Whatever was following him would now think him an idiot. He'd dismissed the danger, and was once again totally unsuspecting.

Apparently.

Being a soldier one Halloween had been one of the best things that had happened to him, disaster wise. It had come in handy more than once before, and now it would serve again. When he thought about it, Xander had a brilliant grasp of tactics. Of course, since they were military they usually didn't apply anywhere he could use them, but for some situations…

The scuff of a foot on the pavement behind him was all the warning he had. He ducked and felt a rush of air as something passed through right where his head had been. Still crouched, he stepped back as he turned to face his attacker.

His eyes widened as he took it in. This, he was not expecting. Something caught him on the back of the head, and blackness claimed him.

------------

Buffy was furious, and trying not to show it. She wasn't doing a very good job. She was also scared out of her mind, but she was doing a better job controlling that. She couldn’t let Dawn see she was scared. Making her worry like that wouldn't help anything.

They were on their way home after the meeting with the principal of Dawn's school. Apparently, Dawn had been cutting. It was the first she'd heard of it, Dawn had done a marvelous job of sneaking around. Buffy supposed she'd learnt it from her.

She couldn't help but feel proud for some reason.

Despite that, she was still upset with Dawn. She could see why she'd done it, Buffy herself probably would have done the same thing. Dawn had too many things going on in her life right now. But she still shouldn't be skipping school. Buffy refused to let Dawn get herself expelled like she had been.

Buffy was definitely keeping a tighter rein on her fear than her fury. Dawn would understand her being mad, but she didn't know the reason she was scared.

The principal had sent Dawn out of the room for a few minutes to talk with Buffy alone. She'd told her that Social Services was taking an interest in her. If Dawn continued to cut school, they might find Buffy unfit be to a legal guardian. They'd take Dawn away.

Buffy refused to let her go.

She couldn't lose Dawn, not now, not with everything else in her life. Dawn needing her gave her one more reason to hang on to this life, and she loved her too much to let her be taken away.

She also had a feeling that Dawn wouldn't be able to handle it. Despite all her memories, Dawn knew that she hadn't existed in this life a year ago. If she was taken away, she would lose the only life she'd ever known. She would leave the only people she'd ever truly known. People who actually loved her despite knowing what she was. People who didn't care that their memories had been altered for her, but were glad for it.

There was one good side to this whole situation. Apparently Dawn had been at school the last week or so. Before that, since she'd found out she was the key, she'd gone maybe twice or three times a week. After their mother had died, if she showed up once it was a good week. The last week, Dawn had gone every day, been in all her classes, and even done the work. Buffy had been called in because the school had wanted her to be aware of the situation, it seemed to her that they didn't believe that Dawn would continue showing up regularly.

Buffy couldn't think of a reason for Dawn's sudden reversal. It could just be that she was beginning to accept the death of their mother, but Buffy didn't think so. Things had calmed down around Dawn recently, despite the ever present threat of Glory. In fact, things had calmed down in general expect for Spike's remarkable change and his getting tortured by Glory.

Having a friend tortured by a hellgod definitely didn't count as calm.

It took Buffy a moment to realize that she'd referred to Spike as a friend. Even in her head that was dangerous territory. She supposed he was, in a way, but she'd told him emphatically that they weren't. Buffy's pride was too strong for her to just back down from that statement.

Bringing her mind back to the present, Buffy turned her head to look at Dawn. She looked so upset that Buffy had a hard time staying mad. Despite how often she got angry at her sister, she could never stay that way. Fights with Dawn were always short and sharp. She couldn't remember one that had lasted more than a day.

Buffy really wanted to stay mad. She had to. She had to be the responsible one now, she had to be the one who put their foot down. But looking at Dawn, her anger just left her. How could she stay mad when time was she would have done the same thing? She wasn't the one to say it was important to be in school. She'd been expelled twice, and skipped half her classes besides.

Talk about being hypocritical.

Buffy had had an excuse, but telling anyone the real reason she was cutting so many classes and burning down school buildings would have landed her in a room with white padded walls. Dawn didn't have that excuse, but she was involved enough in Buffy's life that it still sort of applied.

Truthfully, Dawn's own excuse was just as good as Buffy's. Her mother had recently died, her sister was a Slayer, and she'd just found out that she hadn't even existed a year ago. Oh, and she also had an amazingly strong, unbeatable, super hellbeast after her.

The importance of school sort of paled in comparison.

Her expression softened when Dawn looked up to meet her gaze. There was something in her eyes, something that almost broke Buffy's heart. Dawn dropped her eyes again, and Buffy suddenly realized.

It was shame.

For a moment, Buffy couldn't figure it out. Why would Dawn be ashamed? She knew Buffy's record in school. Buffy would have thought she would have tried to be defiant, used Buffy's own mistakes as a shield. Why wasn't she doing that?

They'd reached the house, and Buffy stopped on the porch. Dawn looked on the verge of tears. Not being able to stop herself any longer and at a loss for anything else to do, Buffy reached out and hugged her sister. Dawn latched on to her and started to cry.

The situation was so similar to when Dawn had tried to bring their mother back to life that Buffy found herself fighting off tears. They'd both broken down that day, finally allowing themselves to grieve.

Buffy knew this was different and she had to do something. She forced back the memories, and guided a still sobbing Dawn to the chair on the porch, sitting her down and wrapping her arms around her.

"Shhh, Dawnie. It's okay, don't cry." Buffy used one hand to stroke Dawn's hair, something that had always seemed to soothe Dawn. She just sat there silently holding her until Dawn calmed down.

"It's okay, Dawn" she said quietly. "You don't have to cry."

Dawn looked at her with eyes filled with guilt. "I'm sorry… I… I just…"

Buffy continued to stroke her hair. "I understand, Dawn. Really, I do."

"No, you don't…" her words were broken by sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm nothing but trouble for you. It's because of me… that you have to deal with Glory… that Spike was tortured… it's all because of me."

Buffy was shocked. She'd had no idea that Dawn had felt this way. She could see why she would, but that didn't mean it was true. Without Dawn in her life… she couldn't imagine it. she wouldn't.

"Dawn, sweetie, that's not true. You know that's not true. You didn't have a say in any of this. If you hate your life that much, blame the monks. I don't blame any of this on you. Spike doesn't blame you that he got hurt. Everything is Glory's fault. You've done nothing wrong."

"But Glory… she's my fault…" It seemed Dawn was determined to feel guilty. "And you have to look after me… I don't even exist."

"You do exist, and Glory is not your fault. As for looking after you, Dawn, I want to do that. You're not a chore. I love you, you're not just another thing I have to protect. If you weren't here…" Buffy chocked on her own words. "If you weren't here… after Mom died, I… don't know what I would have done. You… You're the reason I don't give up. You're the reason I'm still in the world. Without you…" Buffy couldn't help it, tears began to slide down her cheeks.

Dawn didn't know what to say. She knew she caused nothing but trouble and worry for Buffy. She knew Buffy loved her, the monks would have arranged it so she would, but this… "Buffy, I… How can you… You know I wasn't even in your life until recently, you survived for so long without me…"

Buffy shook her head and hugged Dawn tighter. "As far as I'm concerned, you've always been in my life. I know they're not my original memories, but I don't care. I wouldn't trade them back for anything. They feel real, and that's all that matters. You're not just something I'm protecting, Dawn. I don't see you as something I just got recently. You've always been my sister, and that's what you are to me, first and foremost. Whatever else you are… it doesn't matter to me."

Dawn finally relaxed. Ever since she'd found out that she was the key that Buffy was meant to protect, she'd wondered how her sister really felt about her. It had made her feel so alone to find that she had never really been a part of her family. She'd shut out the world, and tried not to feel anything. Her mother's death had made her shut out even more. She'd tried to tell herself that she shouldn't care, that she wasn't really her mother, but her grief was too strong for that. So she'd closed herself off, put walls up between everyone she knew. She'd thought it was better that way.

She'd been destroying herself.

She'd found that out about a week ago, when all the walled off emotions broke past her barriers and came rushing into her heart. Grief, hurt, resentment, anger, guilt… all of it. Maybe she could have dealt with it, but one thing finally overpowered her.

Fear.

Dawn was absolutely terrified. She was afraid, and alone. Glory wanted her, wanted something inside her that she didn't remember being. Buffy had been devastated when their mother died, and Dawn hadn't known what to do. The pain of that loss was too much for her - she'd blocked it out. Buffy hadn't been able to do that. Buffy was stronger than her, but she'd been through so much. She'd tried to deal with it, tried to be strong, but it had only made it worse when she finally felt it.

It had been so bad for Buffy because she had thought that she had to be strong for Dawn.

Another guilt on her conscience. Dawn was afraid of what her death would do to Buffy. The monks had arranged it so she'd have to protect the key with her life, but they should not have made her love it. That wasn't fair. It would destroy her, in the end.

Despite the confident front Buffy tried to show, Dawn was fairly certain that she was going to die.

The thought had terrified her. She'd spent hours trying not to think about how Glory would do it, and found that that was all she could think about. She couldn't handle it. Someone like Glory in control of how she died?

The thought had terrified her beyond reason.

She'd gone to her mother's grave at midday, and sat there for a while crying. In between her sobs, she chocked out apologies. She was sorry for who she was, all the death and destruction her existence had caused. She'd just sat there, apologizing to everyone and for everything she could think of.

She'd finally realized she was stalling. Who would hear, or care, if she said she was sorry? Her resolve wavered for a moment, but the thought of Glory had strengthened it once more. She'd stepped back from the grave a little, not wanting to soil the ground.

Pulling a knife from her bag, she'd placed the blade on her wrist. The first cut she made was too shallow, and she stifled a cry from the pain. She pressed again, deeper, harder. She was bleeding, but it still wasn't enough. It wasn't enough, and yet the pain was making her head swim.

She'd forced herself to focus, and place the blade in the cut once more. One more cut, and it would be done. Before she could complete the last cut, she had a moment of clarity through the pain and almost laughed at herself.

She'd cut the wrong way. You could kill yourself cutting horizontally, but most people did it that way when they didn't really want to die. People who cut that way wanted to be saved, and wanted attention.

Cursing herself for a fool Dawn had dropped the knife, cradling her arm to her chest mindless of the blood. She knew she didn't want more attention, she had too much on her already. But what she'd done subconsciously told her something she hadn't been able to see.

She didn't really want to die.

She'd known that, but she hadn't wanted to see it. All the negative emotions she'd been keeping out had overwhelmed her, and fear had gripped her mind. She'd thought it was better to go on her own terms, and maybe then Glory's plans would be ruined as well.

She couldn't sacrifice herself. Not like this.

What she'd been going to do was the coward's way out. She might have been afraid, but she wasn't a coward. Not yet, and she refused to become one. Glory would not make her do that to herself.

Glory wouldn't make her do this to Buffy.

She might not have been Buffy's sister originally, but she was now. That was what mattered. What mattered what that she now had people who loved her. Killing herself would cheapen everything they'd done to protect her, every sacrifice they'd made for her.

She wouldn't do that to them.

She'd gone home and bandaged her cut, and thrown away her shirt. That much blood would never come out, and Buffy would know something had happened. She'd worn long-sleeve tops for the next week until the cut healed. It had healed fast and without a scar, probably due to Buffy's blood running through her veins.

Dawn had covered up all trace of what she'd tried to do and started going to school again, not walling so many emotions out. She had to get on with her life. If she was going to die, then she should actually live while she had time. She knew she wasn't the only one who was hurting and worried. Self-destruction got you nowhere.

Bringing her mind back to the present, she realized she was still hugged close to Buffy who was still trying hard not to cry in her hair. Buffy had been through so much, and Dawn was determined not to cause more grief for her.

Dawn gave Buffy a quick squeeze and pulled back from her to look her in the eyes. "Buffy, thank you," she said seriously. "For everything you've done for me. I'm sorry I've caused so much trouble for you, and I know it's not my fault Glory wants me, and I know I can't do anything about that. I'm sorry for getting you called in to school, but I think… I think you understand," part of it, but not all. "But I'm okay, now. I'll be all right, and won't skip school any more. I promise."

Buffy smiled at her and wiped away her tears. "I believe you. And I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

Dawn couldn't stand the guilt in her tone. "You were there for me Buffy. I just wasn't there for myself."

Buffy didn't quite understand Dawn's last comment, but decided it was best to let it go. She got up off the couch, pulling Dawn with her, and decided it was far past time they went inside. Despite herself, she smiled ruefully with embarrassment when she realized that they'd both just had major bouts of crying in full view of anyone on the street.

Inside the house Dawn gave Buffy a quick hug and went upstairs to do her homework, deciding that she needed that sense of normalcy to get over the feelings that she'd just had to deal with all over again.

Buffy had much the same idea and headed into the kitchen to get herself some food. Opening the fridge, she wondered where Spike was. He said he wouldn't leave the house, considering how he looked. She shrugged, figuring he was probably just up in his room sleeping or something. He was going to need a lot of sleep over the next couple of days.

It looked like her original assessment of him not being fully recovered for at least a month had been really off track. He was healing so much faster than she had thought was possible. Taking the time to think about it, she realised that he had looked a lot more hurt than he actually was. The bruises and cuts on his face would go away in a day or two, and in a week you wouldn't be able to tell he'd been hurt if you just looked at him. He still had a few broken bones though. She wasn't sure what, but she thought maybe a couple of his ribs and maybe some fractures in one of his arms. Still, he'd been moving about, so maybe they didn't hurt him as much as she thought they would. Well, either that or he was hiding the pain.

That was actually pretty likely, now that she thought about it. She knew that Spike knew she felt guilty about what had happened to him. He probably thought Dawn did too. She did, even though it wasn't her fault. From what they'd worked out, it was really Spike's own fault that Glory had thought he was the key. Still, Buffy couldn't help but feel responsible for Spike. He wouldn't have been tortured if he'd talked.

But he didn't.

Buffy was finding it harder and harder to pretend she hated Spike. She didn't. Not now, and she hadn't for a long time. She'd tried not to show it, but who was she kidding? She'd stood up for Spike to Xander so many times she couldn't count, and she'd been the one to tell everyone to trust him. They all knew she didn't hate him. She'd been deluding herself to think that she would fool them by hitting him occasionally and fighting with him every chance she got.

None of them were fooled. She could see that now. She was letting Spike stay in her house, would she do that if she really hated him? Unfortunately, Buffy was beginning to realize that she didn't just not hate him. She'd been able to ignore it before he changed, but now… Ever since she'd overheard him in the cemetery, she'd begun to think of him as human.

His feelings, his emotions… they were all real. Buffy hadn't thought it was possible for vampires to feel. She'd seen it, but she'd ignored it. She'd wanted to see the world in black and white, good guys and bad guys. Vampires were the bad guys, no exceptions. Things without souls were the bad guys. It was supposed to be simple.

How could she be a good Slayer if she had to chose which demons were redeemable? If Spike was able to change, without a soul, then why couldn't all of them? It was like she was killing something that hadn't yet had the chance to turn into someone. She couldn't afford to think like that.

Shaking her head, Buffy forced herself to be rational. Spike had always been different. Most vampires were animals. They wouldn't change no matter how hard to tried. The effort would kill her. Vampires generally weren't capable of change. They would always be monsters, they would always try and kill humans.

Spike was obviously the exception. Buffy had her own opinion on the matter, though. Privately she wondered if maybe he had been turned wrong somehow, that some remnant of his soul remained in him. Buried deep, but there. He had, after all, been turned by Drusilla. She was nuts, and who knew how much she was capable of messing up a turning?

Ruefully, Buffy realized that she was just avoiding dealing with the issue that scared her the most. She knew that the average vamp was incapable of change. Why was she even thinking about it?

Because she was avoiding what she didn't want to think about. Thinking of Spike as a human was dangerous territory. Overhearing him at the cemetery, knowing how much he really did love her, what he'd do for her… it frightened her.

Buffy had been denying anything but hatred for Spike for so long, even to herself, that to find she felt differently had been something of a shock. She had no reason to hate him any more. He was still a vampire, but not really. Hating him was safe. Hate had blocked of all other feelings. Once the hate had gone, Buffy didn't know how to deal with what was left over.

Was she meant to like him now? She found she did.

Could she trust him? Yes.

Was it safe to love him?

That was a question she refused to answer, and she couldn't believe she'd even thought of it. The good, safe, Spike hate was gone, but love was a long way from not hating. Even longer considering that this was Spike.

She was incredibly grateful to him for what he'd done for them, and she'd even found herself being nicer to him. But she'd made up her mind a while ago about what she would do if she found herself in love with him. She would never let anyone know, and she would deal with it herself until the feeling left her. She would never let herself love Spike.

It never occurred to her why she had even thought about it, and why she dwelt on the idea for so long.

Chapter 8
Alone

It was an hour past closing time, and Anya was getting worried. Xander had said he'd drive her home, and he should have finished work long since. He always called if he was going to be late.

Giles came down from where he'd been restacking some of the more dangerous magic volumes, and seemed surprised to find Anya still there.

"What are you still doing here? You know I don't pay you overtime when there's nothing for you to do."

Anya gave him a withering look before the worried expression settled on her face again. "You should," she murmured, distracted. "If I'm here I should get paid."

It was the lack of solid argument that really alerted Giles. Anya usually had all sorts of reasons she should get paid more, even for times when she wasn't even in the shop. Looking at his watch, he realised how late it was.

"Where's Xander?" Anya asked it like Giles knew the answer but hadn't been sharing.

"Sorry?"

"Where's Xander? He was meant to be here more than an hour ago. He's not here. He has to be somewhere, so where is he?"

Giles shrugged. "I don't know. He could just be late."

"He always calls if he's late. He hasn't called, so it's something else. Oh god, what if Glory took him? What if he's dead, or being tortured like Spike was?" Anya was starting to panic.

"I think perhaps we should give him a few hours grace."

"Why? What, have you forgotten that we're being attacked by Glory? And that we live in Sunnydale?"

"Uh, right. Good point. Why don't I drive you out to the construction site where Xander's working, and we'll check if he's there?"

Anya nodded, somewhat mollified by the suggestion. She grabbed her coat and headed to the door. "Good. Let's go then."

Giles sighed and grabbed his keys. He turned off the lights and started for the door, noticing Anya waiting impatiently, not seeming to care if he locked up properly or not. She would care if she realised that if the store got broken into she might not have a job for a while.

He locked the shop and they both got into his car, Giles trying to ignore Anya's glares that he wasn't moving fast enough.

"I'm sure Xander is fine, Anya. Stop worrying. What could possibly have happened to him?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

--------------

Xander roused slowly, some small instinct telling him not to move or make any noise. Not opening his eyes, he listened, trying to hear something that could help him work out where he was, and what sort of situation he was in.

The headache wasn't helping, but at least he remembered where it had come from. He'd been attacked in an alley. There had been something behind him, so he'd turned to try and defend himself, but then something else had hit him on the back of the head. He could feel the bump.

He'd seen something when he turned. What was it again? He'd been surprised, he remembered that much. If he was surprised, then it couldn't have been Glory. He would have expected her. And it was day, so that ruled out vampires. Well, except Spike. If it was Spike he would have been surprised.

If this was Spike's fault, Xander swore to himself that when he was through, Spike would be begging to go back to Glory. Trying not to laugh at himself, Xander dismissed the idea. It hadn't been Spike. He knew that.

Giving up on trying to remember his attackers, he turned his mind to the now. He was hands were tied behind his back, and also around something else. A pole maybe. Whatever, it didn't matter. It all had the same effect. He was sitting on the ground, in a building of some sort. The floor had the feel of concrete, and moving his hands around carefully he found the pole was solidly held in position. He wasn't going anywhere.

He was leant up against the pole, his tied hands holding him there. His head sagged down on his chest, he hadn't moved it or opened his eyes since he woke. This might actually be one of the situations where military memories came in handy. He wanted to appear unconscious for as long as possible.

He heard something move, almost too quiet for him to notice. It had sounded something like a footstep, but there was only one. Maybe just a guard shifting his feet?

Guard?

At least if it was a footstep it was a human footstep. Or at least something human shaped. Which could again point to vampire. From the temperature he could tell it was night, either that or he was in a cold-storage room or a fridge or something.

Someone groaned nearby. The voice sounded female, but even if it was she didn't get a chance to say anything. The footsteps went past him to his right, and he heard the sound of a fist connecting with something, most likely her head.

So he wasn't alone then. At least one other person was also being held here, and they obviously weren't meant to wake up yet. Xander was suddenly very glad he hadn't moved. One lump on his head was bad enough, he didn't need another.

Wishing he knew how many guards were in the room Xander continued to feign unconsciousness, instead of tripping up the guard that walked right past him on the way back to his post. If he was going to get out of here, he couldn't do it tied to a pole.

He wondered who the girl was. If it was anyone he knew, it was likely to be Willow or Tara. Or Anya. Xander had to force himself not to move to check who it was at that thought. He couldn't give himself away yet. Trying to be rational Xander reasoned that even if it was Anya, looking at her and very likely getting himself knocked out wasn't going to help her.

On the other hand, if it was Tara or Willow, there would be a reason for keeping them unconscious. Tying them up wouldn't stop their magic. He hoped that next time they would remember not to make a noise. Maybe then they could get out.

If it was them at all.

Xander was torn between hoping it was one of his friends, and hoping it wasn't. If it was nobody he knew, fine. It didn't matter. If it was one of the witches, he had a chance of getting out of here, but they might get hurt. He finally settled on hoping he didn't know the person, and wishing that the rest of the scooby gang would come and rescue him.

All he wanted was to get out alive.

He'd run out of options. He might have a lot of memories from being a soldier, but he wasn't one. He didn't have power like Willow and Tara, and he didn't have Anya's thousand years of experience and knowledge. He definitely wasn't as strong as Buffy. Even Spike would be doing better than he was at the moment. Even Giles had some protection by being a member of the Watcher's Council (though generally not a well liked one).

At least the others should know that he was missing by now. Anya would have started to worry as soon as he didn't pick her up from the magic shop. She would have told Giles, and then they would have gone to the construction site to see if he was there. Then found his car. Hopefully they then would have called Buffy and the rest of the gang to see of he was with them, and then they would have gathered at Buffy's place or the magic shop to make a plan to find him.

Hopefully.

Unless it was Anya tied up next to him.

If it was, they probably wouldn't be missed until morning when Anya didn't show up for work. Then Giles would worry. Xander prayed it wasn't Anya next to him.

He didn't have time to pray long, or even really work out who he was praying to. He heard a large door open, and a couple of sets of footsteps enter before the door closed. Maybe now he might learn something.

There was a low murmuring from the direction of the group, they weren't talking very loudly. He could only make out snatches of the conversation.

"… them both?"

"… easiest…. each side."

"… struggle… seen?"

"What… know… hurt?"

The words suddenly stopped. There was a pause and then the voices continued, and more footsteps. The words became louder, coming closer.

The footsteps stopped in front of Xander.

"This one's awake."

Xander lifted his head quickly and opened his eyes. He caught a flash of light reflecting off something that looked like metal, before a fist connected with his jaw and blackness claimed him.

------------

Buffy and Dawn were having dinner when someone knocked on the door. Buffy almost swore before she remembered Dawn was in the room.

"Always when I've just sat down," she muttered to herself.

Dawn just laughed, but before Buffy could get up Spike called from the living room saying that he'd answer it. Buffy just shrugged and went back to eating. She looked over at her sister, who was still chuckling.

"Do you think we can keep him?" asked Dawn, with an innocent look on her face.

Buffy smiled. "Maybe. I've always wanted a doorman."

"Doorvampire."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "That was lame, Dawn. You can do better than that."

"Most of the time. But it's still true. Hey, maybe he could cook and clean and everything?"

Buffy laughed. "That'd be nice. He made good pancakes this morning. We could have our own vampire version of a butler."

"That might not work so well for you. Are you allowed to have affairs with the help?"

"Dawn!"

"What?"

At that moment, Spike led Giles and Anya into the kitchen, forestalling Buffy's reply. Both Giles and Anya looked worried, although worried wasn't really applicable to Anya any more. She was way past worried.

Considering Anya's usual lack of emotion in her facial expressions, she was so far past worried that she'd fallen off the edge of terrified. Giles clarified it in two words.

"Xander's missing."

Buffy almost choked. "He's what?"

"He's gone," said Anya. "He's gone and we can't find him. He didn't come to pick me up from work, and we went to the construction site and his car is still there. And he's not. We went to the apartment, but he's not there either. What if Glory has him? What if she tries to hurt him like she hurt Spike?"

The same thought had just passed through Buffy's mind. Xander wouldn't survive Glory. If the wounds on Spike were any indication, being a vampire was the only thing that allowed him to survive. If Glory had Xander, he wouldn't talk, but he also wouldn't have much hope of being alive at the end of the night. She couldn't say that though.

"I'm sure he's fine," Anya wouldn't believe that, so, "for the moment." Maybe that would help. "Have you called Willow and Tara?"

Giles shook his head. "I thought it best to come here first. I'll call them now."

"I'll do it. I've got the cordless here." Buffy pressed the speed dial for Willow's place, and waited about ten rings before she hung up. "They’re not there. They could be at the library or something." Buffy hoped they were. Or getting dinner, anything but them missing too. Half the gang going missing was not a good thing.

Giles looked at her, worry etched even more clearly on his face. He knew what she was thinking. "I hope they are. At any rate, we have to find Xander. If Willow and Tara are missing too, it's likely that they're with him. If not, they're fine and they'll show up at some point."

Buffy nodded. "I hope you're right. But how do we find Xander? We don't have any idea who, or what, could have taken him. I don't really think it would have been Glory. She's smart enough to know that if she couldn't get a vampire to tell her who the key is, she probably wouldn't have a chance with any of you either." She glanced around the room, hoping she'd never have to find out.

"So if it's not Glory, who took him?" asked Anya. "Glory's the only big threat right now. What else is there?" Feeling more sure that Glory wasn't torturing Xander, Anya's emotions backed away from terrified and more towards worry.

"I don't know," Buffy was frustrated. "There's only vamps, but if Xander's been missing for a couple of hours, he definitely disappeared in full daylight. It's only just gotten dark enough for vampires not to fry. Nothing else had attacked us recently except…" a memory flashed quickly through Buffy's mind.

"Oh no."

-------------

Xander woke to find himself shivering and wet, to see a man holding a bucket standing in front of him. He was tied to a chair this time, only slightly more comfortable than the pole. He quickly glanced around to see if the girl was with him, but the room was empty except for himself and the man who was placing the bucket in a corner.

Xander groaned and tried to shake the cobwebs out of his head. It was still throbbing where he'd been hit, his jaw and the back of his head. He thought maybe that he'd hit his head on the pole he was tied to when he had been punched, as the lump from the first assault felt larger than before.

Studying the man in the room with him, Xander found nothing to identify his captors. He was dressed in plain grey clothing, but it was too well cut to indicate him a servant of any sort. He wore a wide belt, and he really needed a haircut. His hair fell well over his eyes, so much that Xander had trouble working out where the man was looking.

Something about the man's boots tugged at Xander's memory, but for everything else he was drawing a blank. Deciding that he wasn't going to find anything out this way, he chose another approach.

"So… who are you?"

The man just looked at him.

"What, can't speak? Or are you like some sentry guy who's not allowed to talk to me?"

The man didn't respond. In fact, he acted like Xander didn't exist at all.

"Come on. You just tossed a bucket of water at me. You obviously wanted me awake for something, or someone did. I'll find out everything in a minute, so why don't you just tell me? Or are you that low down in the ranks that you don't even know?"

The man glared at him. Xander smiled, knowing he was getting through.

"Think about it. Who's going to know? I'll pretend you never said a word. And hey, if my friends ever turn up and try to rescue me, I'll tell them not to kick your ass."

The man gave him a look that should have killed him where he sat, and whacked him lightly across the head.

"Do not threaten me. Your friends will never find you."

Xander grinned. At least he got the guy to talk. "Fine. Sorry, won't do it again. You don't have any painkillers on you by any chance do you?" The man shook his head, looking like he would rather cause Xander more pain than alleviate it. "Didn't think so. So, do you want to tell me your name now?"

"No."

"Okay then. Can you tell me why I've been kidnapped?"

"No."

"Do you know any words more than one syllable?"

Xander had to stop asking questions when the door opened and a heavy-set man walked in. He was dressed in some sort of armour, and carried a sword at his belt. A medallion hung around his neck, and the way it reflected the light made Xander think that it was this man that he caught a glimpse of before he was knocked unconscious a second time.

If he ever got out of here, that man was going to be in some serious pain.

Looking at his face, Xander noticed the real oddity about the man. There was some weird tattoo on his forehead, and when he looked back at the other guard, he could see something similar, only smaller and less elaborate, on his forehead as well.

The armoured man walked up in front of Xander and looked at him like he was something disgusting that soiled the chair he was tied to. The original guard left the room, and Xander decided to try for answers again.

"Who are you?"

The man hit him, harder than the guard had, and right in the sore spot of his jaw.

"I ask the questions. But you should know this anyway. I am the General of the Knights of Byzantium, and you will lead us to the Key."

------------

Buffy had left Dawn with Spike, and now she and Giles (and Anya, who had refused to be left behind) were speeding through the dark streets of Sunnydale on their way to Willy's. Even if they hadn't needed to use it in a while, his bar was still the best place for info on any of the more recent developments on the demon or just-plain-weird front in Sunnydale.

Giles pulled up in front and left the car running as Buffy quickly got out and raced into the bar. If anyone had noticed a large group of guys in armour, Willy would have heard about it. And since they were human, he shouldn't have a problem talking about it.

Buffy was back out in under a minute, giving Giles directions as she climbed in the car. Apparently there was a large group of humans holed up in some old warehouses on the outskirts of town. The vampires that had been living there were missing, and no one doubted that meant dead. Nobody in the car cared, but if a large group of vamps were taken out, the people who did the taking definitely knew what they were doing.

Giles noticed Buffy rubbing her knuckles, and wondered if maybe she had still had to 'encourage' Willy a bit. Either that or she hadn't had the chance to encourage him enough. He decided he didn't really want to know.

-----------

Xander didn't move. He was tied to a chair, but that wasn't the point. He gave the man no visible reaction. This seemed to irritate him for some reason. Xander got another clout across the head, but it was worth it.

"What form has the Key taken?"

Xander tried to appear confused. When all else fails, lie. "Key? What are you talking about? I'm not giving you my keys, you'll probably take my car and break into my apartment and steal all my stuff. I'm not going to let you do that, my girlfriend would never let me hear the end of it. Hell, she'd probably leave me."

This really pissed off the General. "I'm not talking about your keys, you imbecile. You now what I'm talking about. The Key the Slayer is protecting. Where is it?"

When you've already lied, be a smartass. "If this 'Slayer' is