(no subject)
Title: Chapter 1
Series: The ecstasy of grief
Author: Sevangel
Disclaimer: Not mine, everything here belong to Joss Whedon; no copyright infringement is implied and I'm not using them for anything other than entertainment
A/N: This is my first Dawn/Spike fic. I've only recently started reading the pairing and it's one of the most fascinating one's I've found. I am an avid Buffy/Angel shipper and I do not, under any circumstances, write Buffy/Spike. I love Spike and Buffy, don't like them together.
Timeline: Takes place directly after 'The Gift' only a slight AU is done; Joyce is still alive (it is explained in the story and my main purpose in doing this is I might, sometime in the future when this fic is done, write a sequel with a Harry Potter crossover and….it's worked out in my head but I'm not sure if I'm going to do it but I wanted to keep the possibility open if I decide to) and Dawn is a little over a year older in this than she was in the series.
Warnings: This is a Spike/Dawn pairing. Dawn is a minor and Spike is a hundred plus vamp, if this offends you or you are too young to read such things, don't click the link. You have been warned.
-
Twenty-seven hours. Her sister has been dead for twenty-seven hours. And none of them feels real. Not Buffy dieing, not Angel holding her right hand or Spike holding her left. She's been standing here for seven of those twenty-seven hours, right in front of her sister's headstone. Everyone else is long gone, Angel baring fangs at the scoobies when they tried to force her to leave. He hasn't said a word and neither has Spike, both of them just standing there silently. But she knows they have to move soon, both vampires are shifting restlessly; the dawn starting to break. And she wants to leave, ready to go away, but she can't get her body to move. If she leaves then this is real and Buffy really is dead.
Angel feels the exact second Dawn finally admits what the almost sixteen year old has been denying, feels her tiny frame start to shake. He gently swings her small body up into his arms and starts towards his convertible, parked only a few feet away. One hand briefly touches Buffy's headstone, a gentle gesture, a silent goodbye though he will be back for a longer one before he leaves. He feels rather than sees his grandchilde follow him, smells rather than hears the other vampire take a deep drag off the cigarette he just lit. Once they're at his car, he hands the semi-comatose teenager to Spike and then opens the passenger door for the other vamp. Once Spike is seated with Dawn on his lap, Angel starts up his car and heads not for the Summers' house but instead for his own mansion. Dawn doesn't need the scoobies poking and prodding at her, trying to get her to talk about her feelings. She just needs to be. He knows he hasn't dealt with any of his own grief, right now it's about Dawn, and his will have to wait.
"Right 'ere, sweetening." Spike rumbles soothingly, hand rubbing up and down Dawn's back.
It's the first words that have been spoken in five hours, since Xander tried to force Dawn away. He let his demon free for a moment then, pure rage filling his body at the boy's audacity at trying to make Dawn do something she wasn't ready to do. And if it weren't for the fact that Dawn was clinging to Spike at that moment, keeping him from moving, he's fairly sure the still evil vampire would have set off the behavioral chip in his head. Giles and Wesley stepped in right in time, urging the entire group away, and stopping blood from being shed at Buffy's funeral.
"My fault." Dawn clenches her fists against Spike's chest.
Angel slams on the brakes, tossing all three of them forward.
"Bloody hell, peaches, what's your problem?" Spike half growls, hands gripping Dawn's slim waist to hold her against him and keep her from crashing into the dash.
"Dawn Leigh Summers, don't you ever say that again." Angel growls loudly, half morphing into his vampire countenance.
"She died, because of me." Dawn whispers, head turning on Spike's chest to look at Angel.
The fact that she's currently sitting on William the Bloody's lap, his hands on her waist in a possessive hold and she's next to a partially vamped 'former' Angelus doesn't even seem to bother her and in that moment, Angel knows she really was made from Buffy. Only his love could see past the demon he is and her sister looks to do the same. "Dawn, Buffy didn't die because of you, she died for you; there is a difference."
"Poof's right, bit." Spike murmurs. "Slayer wouldn't want you talkin' such nonsense."
"I want her back." Dawn says, though she knows it's pointless. "Mom…she doesn't even know. She didn't get to see…."
Spike closes his eyes as he pulls Dawn tighter against him. His demon celebrates in her pain but a small part of him just wants to make her better. Make everything better even though he knows he can't. Nothing can bring back the slayer. Then the fact that a warm, sweet, virginal bundle of flesh is nestled on his lap registers and he can't help but want to do all kinds of degrading things to her, stretch her pain and grief out until she's nothing but a echo of what she once was. A sharp, intense pain rips him from his musings and it takes a second for him to realize it wasn't his chip but the hand of his grandsire, gripping the back of his neck so hard if he were human, there'd be a chance his neck would have snapped.
Angel can practically taste Spike's desires, read the other vampire's intentions as if they were his own. He squeezes the back of Spike's neck until the blonde winces and stops thinking about what he was. He shoots the younger vampire a look and then resumes driving. "Willow said Buffy talked to your mom's doctor a week ago; she can't handle knowing right now. It would only harm her recovery."
"I know." Dawn whispers, her head resting where Spike's heart beat used to be. "But she's away now, in Japan, and what happens when she comes back? When she wishes it was me that jumped off that tower and not Buffy?"
"That's more nonsense, bit." Spike murmurs. "Your mum loves you."
Dawn shrugs and closes her eyes, her hands still clenched against Spike's chest.
Angel pulls the car up through the yard and to the front door and then turns it off, jumping out and reaching over to grab Dawn off Spike's lap. Buffy's sister mutters something but given that she's practically asleep, he can't understand what it is. He carries her into the mansion, half running as the sun starts to become more pronounced in the sky. He stayed here last night, alone, Cordy staying with Willow and Wesley with Giles. He had cleaned up as best he could, the unused mansion thick with dust, and he carries Dawn to the room he used last night. It's not the same room he shared with Buffy way back when, he'll never sleep in there again, but a room he nor Angelus never used. "Little one, you need to change." He sets her down on the bed and then moves over to the stack of clothes he took out of his old room, trying to find her something to wear.
Dawn sits up, hands clasped on her lap. "You don't hate me?"
Angel pauses, hands resting on one of Buffy's old tank tops, and turns to look at Dawn. "Why would you ever think that?"
Again, Dawn shrugs.
Finding an old pair of his boxers that Buffy 'borrowed', he grabs them along with one of his slayer's sweatshirts and brings them over to Dawn. Kneeling in front of her, he forces her chin up. "I loved your sister more than I will ever love anything in this life. She's the first person that I've loved in two-hundred plus years and the only person that's loved me completely and unconditionally. I will love her until the day I'm ash and nothing will change that. But I don't hate you. Even if I wanted to, Buffy wouldn't want me to. None of this was your fault, little one, do you understand that? You were a complete innocent in all this."
"I tried to jump." Dawn whispers. "She wouldn't let me."
"Of course she wouldn't." Angel leans forward to kiss Dawn's forehead. "You're her baby sister and she loves you. Now, get changed and try to get some sleep, okay?"
Dawn nods and grips the clothes he hands her tightly.
Angel kisses her forehead again and then leaves the room, closing the door firmly behind him. He walks into the living room to find Spike sprawled out on the couch, a burning cigarette in one hand and a bottle of his own whiskey in the other.
"How's the niblet?" Spike drawls and then takes a swig out of the bottle.
"How do you think she is?" Angel kicks Spike's feet off the couch and then sits down where they were.
"Eaten up with guilt." Spike murmurs. "Filled with grief. Didn't you once say there's nothing more sweet than the ecstasy of grief?"
"Angelus said that, yes." Angel takes the bottle out of Spike's hand and takes a swig. "Was it her hair? Her body? Or just the fact that she could kick your ass?"
"What the bloody hell are you going on about?" Spike grinds his cigarette out on the ground and then lights another one.
"Your love for Buffy?" Angel says and then takes the cigarette out Spike's now lax fingertips.
"You know…"
"I know just about everything." Angel interrupts as he takes a deep drag off the cigarette. "Buffy started calling me when Joyce got sick, more so after her mother left for Japan. I know about you stalking her, kidnapping her, and I even know about the robot you had made."
Spike lights another cigarette, his hands slightly shaking from nerves. There's a few things he fears and one of them is his grandsire, he'd never admit it out loud though. He takes the bottle back from Angel and downs a third of it.
"There's only one reason you're not a pile of ashes at my feet and it's the girl a few rooms away." Angel says. "It would kill her to lose you right now. But if you hurt her, in any way, I'll make what Angelus used to do to you look like a walk in the park."
"Go to hell, peaches." Spike half growls.
"Been there, done that." Angel takes the whiskey bottle back out of Spike's hand and takes a deep swig. "I am not joking, William. Things are going to change now. I'm not Buffy; I will kill you, harmless or not. You want to stay in Sunnydale, then you will protect Dawn, end of story."
"And if I say no?" Spike drawls.
"Then I'll throw what's left of you in the fireplace and tell Dawn the truth." Angel shrugs. "Or a lie. That's not important. I don't trust you and unlike Rupert, Xander, Willow…hell, even Buffy, I haven't forgotten what keeps you from slaughtering them all; the chip. Nothing more, nothing less. You're not tamed, you're neutered, and as funny as I find that to be, it doesn't change who you are, even if you try to tell yourself it does. You're a monster Spike, end of story."
A broad smirk covers Spike's lips. "That's bout the nicest thing you've ever said to me, peaches."
Angel shakes his head but doesn't push the issue. Spike got the message. "How is Dawn going to be money wise?"
"Why the bloody hell would I know that?"
"You're not going to convince me that you haven't gone through their things." Angel puts his cigarette out on the bottom of his boot. "You probably know more about the reality of the Summers' financial situation than anyone."
"Joyce's shop was doing alright before she left but she had to close it. Her savings is almost completely gone and bills are starting to pile up." Spike says. "Enough in it for the bit to live off for a couple months but not much after that; the mortgage payment is talking the biggest part of it. Their pops hasn't paid a bit of child support in years, not since before you left, so Joyce has been doing it all."
Angel arches an eyebrow, a little surprised with how much Spike actually knew.
"Read it in the slayer's journal." Spike says. "Funny thing, she never mentioned anything about talking to you in there."
"She was still with Riley when the calls started." Angel points out. "And with everything that was going on, she didn't want anyone knowing we were talking. I guess she didn't trust her privacy, for good reasons it seems."
"True that." Spike nods his agreement. "Know the bit reads the slayer's diary and Joyce's scent was on it a few times too. Captain cardboard's was on it more than once."
That doesn't surprise him; he knows Buffy doesn't…didn't share her fears or concerns with anyone, not really. She always plastered a happy smile on her face to hide her real feelings. "Angelus, before he tried to…."
"End the world." Spike provides when Angel stops talking.
Angel shoots him a look. "He took some money out of the vaults, it's hidden here…."
"Wait one bloody minute, there's sodding money in this mansion and I don't know about it?" Spike growls.
"You honestly expected me to trust you with money?" Angel scoffs. "It's hidden. I'm going to give some to Giles to take care of everything and then I'll give you some, don't blow through it all because I'm not getting more out."
"Bloody bastard." Spike mutters. "That bloody vault is piled high and you won't touch it for nothing."
"It's blood money." Angel takes a drink out of the whiskey. "I don't….this is the first time I've personally touched it."
"You're leaving." Spike states.
Angel nods. "I have to….I need to be alone. Away. From everything. Cordy thinks I'm leaving my cell phone but I'll have it, if something happens. An emergency, one you can't handle alone and I swear if you call me for something else entirely, I will make you regret it."
"Like I want to bloody well talk to you." Spike mutters. "You're staying long enough to say goodbye to the niblet, right? She'd be upset if you didn't."
"I'll leave when the sun sets." Angel replies. "I want you out of that crypt…."
"Oh, peaches, I didn't know you cared."
Angel smacks Spike on the back of the head. "And into the basement. Even if she's…." He can't say it, he can barely think it. "I just want Dawn safe. You might be evil but you can protect her."
Spike tips the bottle at Angel in a silent cheer. "That I can."
-
Dawn stretches or at least tries to but she can barely move. The tiniest bit afraid, she slowly opens her eyes and comes face to back with Angel. He's asleep right beside her, or at least she thinks he is because he's not pretending to breathe. He's still wearing the clothes he wore…was wearing before, all except his token duster. And then behind her, one arm flung carelessly over her hip has to be Spike. It's a little weird, how they're both not breathing, both like corpses along her, but rather comforting at the same time. She knows she shouldn't be comforted, okay, maybe by Angel but not Spike, but she is just the same. She wonders what time it is but there's not a clock in the room and even if there were, she wouldn't be able to see, what with it being so dark in here. She starts to scoot down the bed when the arm around her tightens, not enough to hurt but enough to stall her movements.
"Where you going, luv?" Spike murmurs.
"Bathroom." Dawn squeaks out, embarrassed at him knowing what she has to do. She knows intellectually that he knows she uses the bathroom but him knowing, knowing, embarrasses her.
"Right then, pet." Spike releases her waist and then rolls over.
Dawn finishes scooting down the bed and then wonders out of the room. She's been in the mansion a few times…okay, never really, but in her fake memories, she spent some time here with Angel and Buffy. She knows where everything is and heads to the bathroom first. The toilet paper is old and kinda dusty so she ends up throwing away the first couple layers before using any. After she's done with that, she walks out into the living room and drawls the blind back, only to find it almost dark again.
"It's almost time to go home, Dawn." Angel places a hand on her shoulder. "Spike's moving into the basement and I'm leaving some money for you, okay?"
Dawn nods and then turns, burying her face in his chest. "You're leaving?"
"I have to." Angel kisses the top of her head. "I have to go."
"Promise me something." Dawn whispers.
"What?"
"That you won't kill yourself." Dawn says. "You can't. Buffy wouldn't want it. She would want you to live on. To fight. She told me…..right before…the hardest thing in this world is to live in it, live for me. We have to live for her because she's not here to do it anymore."
He doesn't want to promise because he's not sure he can. He's not sure what he's going to do when he finally accepts that she's….that she's….not….he doesn't know what's going to happen but he does know he can't say no to her. "I promise."
"Sun's about set, peaches." Spike half growls. "It's time to be getting the bit home."
"I know." Angel agrees. "Dawn, go get your stuff. It's time to go back."
-
She's been dead for four weeks. A month. Thirty days. Seven-hundred and twenty hours. It still hurts so much but she no longer cries herself to sleep at night. Her mom still doesn't know, still hasn't been told anything. Willow casts a 'glamour' on her own voice and pretends to be Buffy when her mom calls. Her recovery isn't doing….she's doing okay but is nowhere close to being ready to come home. Her dad hasn't called once so there's no worry there. Tara and Willow moved in with her, staying in her mom's room, while Spike sleeps in the basement. The witches don't spend that much time at home, most of it spent at the magic shop or at Xander's apartment. She spends most of her time with Spike. It's….the crush she had on him when she was younger is gone. Oh, he's still hot but she no longer sees him as 'that cute, oh-my-god, he's so hot' guy. First off, he's not a guy. He's a vampire. And while he is hot, he's not….he hides less of what he is when it's just them. He drinks blood in front of her, doesn't pretend to breathe, and doesn't act like he wouldn't kill every one of the scoobies if he got a chance. Sometimes, when he looks at her, she just knows he's thinking things that would get him staked within a second if anyone knew. It's a good thing vamp's minds can't be read.
She…it distracts her, thinking about Spike. Takes her focus off the fact that her sister is dead, her dad doesn't care, and her mother might join her sister very soon. And even though she no longer has a crush on him, doesn't mean she doesn't have feelings for him. She does. They're just not naïve like they once were. She sees the monster that he is and while she doesn't love it, she….is drawn to it. She remembers one of Buffy's diary entries, way back when Angel lost his soul. About how her sister hated the monster that killed her boyfriend but a part of her is completely connected to him because even with a soul, the demon is a part of Angel and always will be.
Spike is different from Angelus. Oh, he's just as evil and as much of a monster, but he's a little more laidback than Angelus was. She wonders sometimes what he'd be like with a soul. Would he be all broody like Angel or just accept what he's done and be over it? She thinks it would be a combination of both, not that she'll ever find out. It's not like Willow's going to do any cursing and there's no other way for Spike to get his soul.
He's in the living room now, watching television. He'll stay there until about midnight, then he'll go patrol until right before sunset before coming home and crashing in the basement. And although Willow and Tara 'moved' in with her, in reality, the witches spend next to no time here. It's mostly just her and Spike which doesn't bother her at all because Spike doesn't pressure her like everyone else does to 'talk about her feelings'. Spike just lets her be. Angel's called a few times, short conversations just to make sure she's okay. She loves those calls, loves hearing from the vampire she considers her big brother.
Spike…he…she should think of him as a big brother but she can't. Not with how he looks at her sometimes and how a part of her tingles when he does it. And he knows, must smell it or something, given the way he smirks and lights a cigarette, his eyes never leaving her face. She always ends up looking away first, earning a chuckle from him, and runs into the kitchen to do something pointless. She spends a lot of time in the kitchen.
She tries to stay awake most nights, just to spend some time with him, but boredom usually wins out and she conks out somewhere around four am. And tonight is no different, her body wrapped around a small pillow, one of Spike's t-shirts that she 'borrowed' hanging down to about mid-thigh. And almost as soon as she's asleep, the nightmares start. She hates them. Hates how scared her dreams make her. They're always the same, Ben with a knife held to her throat, Ben cutting her, draining her blood, Ben doing things to her that frankly terrify her. It's always Ben. She very rarely dreams about Glory and when she does, the goddess always ends up turning into Ben.
This dream is the same, Ben holding her down, broken bottle skimming down her cheek, between her boobs, and down to her belly button. Then the bottle starts back up, this time digging into her skin. She screams from the pain as he cuts her open, a blank expression on his face as if he were just dissecting a frog or something. She screams and screams, the pain unlike anything she's ever felt before, so intense, that she thinks she's going to die just from it.
-
Spike grinds his cigarette out in the ashtray his bit got him in an attempt to get him to stop using her pop cans. He always found it to be quite hilarious when the whelp would snag a drink out of one the spare cans sitting around but nobody else found it quite as funny as he did. Well, nobody but his bit, that is.
God, she's gorgeous. Her grief shines through her skin making her seem to glow from the inside. There's just something about the child-woman that touches him in a way that not even Dru did. He just never saw it before. She was always just there, the slayer's little sis, but now she's Dawn. His bit. The slayer was like this blinding light that kept everyone from seeing what's behind her. He never noticed Dawn for anything other than the slayer's little sis until now.
He'll never admit it to the poof but Angel was right; he never loved Buffy. Hell, he's incapable of 'true love' and what he felt for the slayer was obsession. He couldn’t kill her anymore but he could degrade her, bring her down to his level, but she never let him. The things he wanted to do to her…well, his grand-poof of a sire would torture him for months if he knew. But now he realizes it for what it really was; just an obsession. He was obsessed with the slayer, he's always been obsessed with slayers. Killing them, stalking them, fighting them, and when he couldn't do any of those things anymore, he resorted to trying to kill her in any way possible. But he knows now it wasn't 'love'. Because looking back, he's glad they buried her and not his bit.
She's not as blind as the scoobies. Dawn sees him for what he is, sees the monster lying just below the surface. He can hear it in her heartbeat, when it quickens in his presence, partly from fear and partly from desire. She doesn't realize her body's reactions for what they are. She's naïve that way. And damn if he doesn't want to soak up every bit of that innocence until it's as dark as he is. He's fairly sure this is close to what Angelus felt when he first saw Drusilla. Dawn is more than an obsession, she's becoming a craving. Hell, it's why he spends most of the night out. He's not the poof and he's not a gentleman, hell he's not even a man. Sooner or later, he's going to give into what he wants, he always does.
-
Series: The ecstasy of grief
Author: Sevangel
Disclaimer: Not mine, everything here belong to Joss Whedon; no copyright infringement is implied and I'm not using them for anything other than entertainment
A/N: This is my first Dawn/Spike fic. I've only recently started reading the pairing and it's one of the most fascinating one's I've found. I am an avid Buffy/Angel shipper and I do not, under any circumstances, write Buffy/Spike. I love Spike and Buffy, don't like them together.
Timeline: Takes place directly after 'The Gift' only a slight AU is done; Joyce is still alive (it is explained in the story and my main purpose in doing this is I might, sometime in the future when this fic is done, write a sequel with a Harry Potter crossover and….it's worked out in my head but I'm not sure if I'm going to do it but I wanted to keep the possibility open if I decide to) and Dawn is a little over a year older in this than she was in the series.
Warnings: This is a Spike/Dawn pairing. Dawn is a minor and Spike is a hundred plus vamp, if this offends you or you are too young to read such things, don't click the link. You have been warned.
-
Twenty-seven hours. Her sister has been dead for twenty-seven hours. And none of them feels real. Not Buffy dieing, not Angel holding her right hand or Spike holding her left. She's been standing here for seven of those twenty-seven hours, right in front of her sister's headstone. Everyone else is long gone, Angel baring fangs at the scoobies when they tried to force her to leave. He hasn't said a word and neither has Spike, both of them just standing there silently. But she knows they have to move soon, both vampires are shifting restlessly; the dawn starting to break. And she wants to leave, ready to go away, but she can't get her body to move. If she leaves then this is real and Buffy really is dead.
Angel feels the exact second Dawn finally admits what the almost sixteen year old has been denying, feels her tiny frame start to shake. He gently swings her small body up into his arms and starts towards his convertible, parked only a few feet away. One hand briefly touches Buffy's headstone, a gentle gesture, a silent goodbye though he will be back for a longer one before he leaves. He feels rather than sees his grandchilde follow him, smells rather than hears the other vampire take a deep drag off the cigarette he just lit. Once they're at his car, he hands the semi-comatose teenager to Spike and then opens the passenger door for the other vamp. Once Spike is seated with Dawn on his lap, Angel starts up his car and heads not for the Summers' house but instead for his own mansion. Dawn doesn't need the scoobies poking and prodding at her, trying to get her to talk about her feelings. She just needs to be. He knows he hasn't dealt with any of his own grief, right now it's about Dawn, and his will have to wait.
"Right 'ere, sweetening." Spike rumbles soothingly, hand rubbing up and down Dawn's back.
It's the first words that have been spoken in five hours, since Xander tried to force Dawn away. He let his demon free for a moment then, pure rage filling his body at the boy's audacity at trying to make Dawn do something she wasn't ready to do. And if it weren't for the fact that Dawn was clinging to Spike at that moment, keeping him from moving, he's fairly sure the still evil vampire would have set off the behavioral chip in his head. Giles and Wesley stepped in right in time, urging the entire group away, and stopping blood from being shed at Buffy's funeral.
"My fault." Dawn clenches her fists against Spike's chest.
Angel slams on the brakes, tossing all three of them forward.
"Bloody hell, peaches, what's your problem?" Spike half growls, hands gripping Dawn's slim waist to hold her against him and keep her from crashing into the dash.
"Dawn Leigh Summers, don't you ever say that again." Angel growls loudly, half morphing into his vampire countenance.
"She died, because of me." Dawn whispers, head turning on Spike's chest to look at Angel.
The fact that she's currently sitting on William the Bloody's lap, his hands on her waist in a possessive hold and she's next to a partially vamped 'former' Angelus doesn't even seem to bother her and in that moment, Angel knows she really was made from Buffy. Only his love could see past the demon he is and her sister looks to do the same. "Dawn, Buffy didn't die because of you, she died for you; there is a difference."
"Poof's right, bit." Spike murmurs. "Slayer wouldn't want you talkin' such nonsense."
"I want her back." Dawn says, though she knows it's pointless. "Mom…she doesn't even know. She didn't get to see…."
Spike closes his eyes as he pulls Dawn tighter against him. His demon celebrates in her pain but a small part of him just wants to make her better. Make everything better even though he knows he can't. Nothing can bring back the slayer. Then the fact that a warm, sweet, virginal bundle of flesh is nestled on his lap registers and he can't help but want to do all kinds of degrading things to her, stretch her pain and grief out until she's nothing but a echo of what she once was. A sharp, intense pain rips him from his musings and it takes a second for him to realize it wasn't his chip but the hand of his grandsire, gripping the back of his neck so hard if he were human, there'd be a chance his neck would have snapped.
Angel can practically taste Spike's desires, read the other vampire's intentions as if they were his own. He squeezes the back of Spike's neck until the blonde winces and stops thinking about what he was. He shoots the younger vampire a look and then resumes driving. "Willow said Buffy talked to your mom's doctor a week ago; she can't handle knowing right now. It would only harm her recovery."
"I know." Dawn whispers, her head resting where Spike's heart beat used to be. "But she's away now, in Japan, and what happens when she comes back? When she wishes it was me that jumped off that tower and not Buffy?"
"That's more nonsense, bit." Spike murmurs. "Your mum loves you."
Dawn shrugs and closes her eyes, her hands still clenched against Spike's chest.
Angel pulls the car up through the yard and to the front door and then turns it off, jumping out and reaching over to grab Dawn off Spike's lap. Buffy's sister mutters something but given that she's practically asleep, he can't understand what it is. He carries her into the mansion, half running as the sun starts to become more pronounced in the sky. He stayed here last night, alone, Cordy staying with Willow and Wesley with Giles. He had cleaned up as best he could, the unused mansion thick with dust, and he carries Dawn to the room he used last night. It's not the same room he shared with Buffy way back when, he'll never sleep in there again, but a room he nor Angelus never used. "Little one, you need to change." He sets her down on the bed and then moves over to the stack of clothes he took out of his old room, trying to find her something to wear.
Dawn sits up, hands clasped on her lap. "You don't hate me?"
Angel pauses, hands resting on one of Buffy's old tank tops, and turns to look at Dawn. "Why would you ever think that?"
Again, Dawn shrugs.
Finding an old pair of his boxers that Buffy 'borrowed', he grabs them along with one of his slayer's sweatshirts and brings them over to Dawn. Kneeling in front of her, he forces her chin up. "I loved your sister more than I will ever love anything in this life. She's the first person that I've loved in two-hundred plus years and the only person that's loved me completely and unconditionally. I will love her until the day I'm ash and nothing will change that. But I don't hate you. Even if I wanted to, Buffy wouldn't want me to. None of this was your fault, little one, do you understand that? You were a complete innocent in all this."
"I tried to jump." Dawn whispers. "She wouldn't let me."
"Of course she wouldn't." Angel leans forward to kiss Dawn's forehead. "You're her baby sister and she loves you. Now, get changed and try to get some sleep, okay?"
Dawn nods and grips the clothes he hands her tightly.
Angel kisses her forehead again and then leaves the room, closing the door firmly behind him. He walks into the living room to find Spike sprawled out on the couch, a burning cigarette in one hand and a bottle of his own whiskey in the other.
"How's the niblet?" Spike drawls and then takes a swig out of the bottle.
"How do you think she is?" Angel kicks Spike's feet off the couch and then sits down where they were.
"Eaten up with guilt." Spike murmurs. "Filled with grief. Didn't you once say there's nothing more sweet than the ecstasy of grief?"
"Angelus said that, yes." Angel takes the bottle out of Spike's hand and takes a swig. "Was it her hair? Her body? Or just the fact that she could kick your ass?"
"What the bloody hell are you going on about?" Spike grinds his cigarette out on the ground and then lights another one.
"Your love for Buffy?" Angel says and then takes the cigarette out Spike's now lax fingertips.
"You know…"
"I know just about everything." Angel interrupts as he takes a deep drag off the cigarette. "Buffy started calling me when Joyce got sick, more so after her mother left for Japan. I know about you stalking her, kidnapping her, and I even know about the robot you had made."
Spike lights another cigarette, his hands slightly shaking from nerves. There's a few things he fears and one of them is his grandsire, he'd never admit it out loud though. He takes the bottle back from Angel and downs a third of it.
"There's only one reason you're not a pile of ashes at my feet and it's the girl a few rooms away." Angel says. "It would kill her to lose you right now. But if you hurt her, in any way, I'll make what Angelus used to do to you look like a walk in the park."
"Go to hell, peaches." Spike half growls.
"Been there, done that." Angel takes the whiskey bottle back out of Spike's hand and takes a deep swig. "I am not joking, William. Things are going to change now. I'm not Buffy; I will kill you, harmless or not. You want to stay in Sunnydale, then you will protect Dawn, end of story."
"And if I say no?" Spike drawls.
"Then I'll throw what's left of you in the fireplace and tell Dawn the truth." Angel shrugs. "Or a lie. That's not important. I don't trust you and unlike Rupert, Xander, Willow…hell, even Buffy, I haven't forgotten what keeps you from slaughtering them all; the chip. Nothing more, nothing less. You're not tamed, you're neutered, and as funny as I find that to be, it doesn't change who you are, even if you try to tell yourself it does. You're a monster Spike, end of story."
A broad smirk covers Spike's lips. "That's bout the nicest thing you've ever said to me, peaches."
Angel shakes his head but doesn't push the issue. Spike got the message. "How is Dawn going to be money wise?"
"Why the bloody hell would I know that?"
"You're not going to convince me that you haven't gone through their things." Angel puts his cigarette out on the bottom of his boot. "You probably know more about the reality of the Summers' financial situation than anyone."
"Joyce's shop was doing alright before she left but she had to close it. Her savings is almost completely gone and bills are starting to pile up." Spike says. "Enough in it for the bit to live off for a couple months but not much after that; the mortgage payment is talking the biggest part of it. Their pops hasn't paid a bit of child support in years, not since before you left, so Joyce has been doing it all."
Angel arches an eyebrow, a little surprised with how much Spike actually knew.
"Read it in the slayer's journal." Spike says. "Funny thing, she never mentioned anything about talking to you in there."
"She was still with Riley when the calls started." Angel points out. "And with everything that was going on, she didn't want anyone knowing we were talking. I guess she didn't trust her privacy, for good reasons it seems."
"True that." Spike nods his agreement. "Know the bit reads the slayer's diary and Joyce's scent was on it a few times too. Captain cardboard's was on it more than once."
That doesn't surprise him; he knows Buffy doesn't…didn't share her fears or concerns with anyone, not really. She always plastered a happy smile on her face to hide her real feelings. "Angelus, before he tried to…."
"End the world." Spike provides when Angel stops talking.
Angel shoots him a look. "He took some money out of the vaults, it's hidden here…."
"Wait one bloody minute, there's sodding money in this mansion and I don't know about it?" Spike growls.
"You honestly expected me to trust you with money?" Angel scoffs. "It's hidden. I'm going to give some to Giles to take care of everything and then I'll give you some, don't blow through it all because I'm not getting more out."
"Bloody bastard." Spike mutters. "That bloody vault is piled high and you won't touch it for nothing."
"It's blood money." Angel takes a drink out of the whiskey. "I don't….this is the first time I've personally touched it."
"You're leaving." Spike states.
Angel nods. "I have to….I need to be alone. Away. From everything. Cordy thinks I'm leaving my cell phone but I'll have it, if something happens. An emergency, one you can't handle alone and I swear if you call me for something else entirely, I will make you regret it."
"Like I want to bloody well talk to you." Spike mutters. "You're staying long enough to say goodbye to the niblet, right? She'd be upset if you didn't."
"I'll leave when the sun sets." Angel replies. "I want you out of that crypt…."
"Oh, peaches, I didn't know you cared."
Angel smacks Spike on the back of the head. "And into the basement. Even if she's…." He can't say it, he can barely think it. "I just want Dawn safe. You might be evil but you can protect her."
Spike tips the bottle at Angel in a silent cheer. "That I can."
-
Dawn stretches or at least tries to but she can barely move. The tiniest bit afraid, she slowly opens her eyes and comes face to back with Angel. He's asleep right beside her, or at least she thinks he is because he's not pretending to breathe. He's still wearing the clothes he wore…was wearing before, all except his token duster. And then behind her, one arm flung carelessly over her hip has to be Spike. It's a little weird, how they're both not breathing, both like corpses along her, but rather comforting at the same time. She knows she shouldn't be comforted, okay, maybe by Angel but not Spike, but she is just the same. She wonders what time it is but there's not a clock in the room and even if there were, she wouldn't be able to see, what with it being so dark in here. She starts to scoot down the bed when the arm around her tightens, not enough to hurt but enough to stall her movements.
"Where you going, luv?" Spike murmurs.
"Bathroom." Dawn squeaks out, embarrassed at him knowing what she has to do. She knows intellectually that he knows she uses the bathroom but him knowing, knowing, embarrasses her.
"Right then, pet." Spike releases her waist and then rolls over.
Dawn finishes scooting down the bed and then wonders out of the room. She's been in the mansion a few times…okay, never really, but in her fake memories, she spent some time here with Angel and Buffy. She knows where everything is and heads to the bathroom first. The toilet paper is old and kinda dusty so she ends up throwing away the first couple layers before using any. After she's done with that, she walks out into the living room and drawls the blind back, only to find it almost dark again.
"It's almost time to go home, Dawn." Angel places a hand on her shoulder. "Spike's moving into the basement and I'm leaving some money for you, okay?"
Dawn nods and then turns, burying her face in his chest. "You're leaving?"
"I have to." Angel kisses the top of her head. "I have to go."
"Promise me something." Dawn whispers.
"What?"
"That you won't kill yourself." Dawn says. "You can't. Buffy wouldn't want it. She would want you to live on. To fight. She told me…..right before…the hardest thing in this world is to live in it, live for me. We have to live for her because she's not here to do it anymore."
He doesn't want to promise because he's not sure he can. He's not sure what he's going to do when he finally accepts that she's….that she's….not….he doesn't know what's going to happen but he does know he can't say no to her. "I promise."
"Sun's about set, peaches." Spike half growls. "It's time to be getting the bit home."
"I know." Angel agrees. "Dawn, go get your stuff. It's time to go back."
-
She's been dead for four weeks. A month. Thirty days. Seven-hundred and twenty hours. It still hurts so much but she no longer cries herself to sleep at night. Her mom still doesn't know, still hasn't been told anything. Willow casts a 'glamour' on her own voice and pretends to be Buffy when her mom calls. Her recovery isn't doing….she's doing okay but is nowhere close to being ready to come home. Her dad hasn't called once so there's no worry there. Tara and Willow moved in with her, staying in her mom's room, while Spike sleeps in the basement. The witches don't spend that much time at home, most of it spent at the magic shop or at Xander's apartment. She spends most of her time with Spike. It's….the crush she had on him when she was younger is gone. Oh, he's still hot but she no longer sees him as 'that cute, oh-my-god, he's so hot' guy. First off, he's not a guy. He's a vampire. And while he is hot, he's not….he hides less of what he is when it's just them. He drinks blood in front of her, doesn't pretend to breathe, and doesn't act like he wouldn't kill every one of the scoobies if he got a chance. Sometimes, when he looks at her, she just knows he's thinking things that would get him staked within a second if anyone knew. It's a good thing vamp's minds can't be read.
She…it distracts her, thinking about Spike. Takes her focus off the fact that her sister is dead, her dad doesn't care, and her mother might join her sister very soon. And even though she no longer has a crush on him, doesn't mean she doesn't have feelings for him. She does. They're just not naïve like they once were. She sees the monster that he is and while she doesn't love it, she….is drawn to it. She remembers one of Buffy's diary entries, way back when Angel lost his soul. About how her sister hated the monster that killed her boyfriend but a part of her is completely connected to him because even with a soul, the demon is a part of Angel and always will be.
Spike is different from Angelus. Oh, he's just as evil and as much of a monster, but he's a little more laidback than Angelus was. She wonders sometimes what he'd be like with a soul. Would he be all broody like Angel or just accept what he's done and be over it? She thinks it would be a combination of both, not that she'll ever find out. It's not like Willow's going to do any cursing and there's no other way for Spike to get his soul.
He's in the living room now, watching television. He'll stay there until about midnight, then he'll go patrol until right before sunset before coming home and crashing in the basement. And although Willow and Tara 'moved' in with her, in reality, the witches spend next to no time here. It's mostly just her and Spike which doesn't bother her at all because Spike doesn't pressure her like everyone else does to 'talk about her feelings'. Spike just lets her be. Angel's called a few times, short conversations just to make sure she's okay. She loves those calls, loves hearing from the vampire she considers her big brother.
Spike…he…she should think of him as a big brother but she can't. Not with how he looks at her sometimes and how a part of her tingles when he does it. And he knows, must smell it or something, given the way he smirks and lights a cigarette, his eyes never leaving her face. She always ends up looking away first, earning a chuckle from him, and runs into the kitchen to do something pointless. She spends a lot of time in the kitchen.
She tries to stay awake most nights, just to spend some time with him, but boredom usually wins out and she conks out somewhere around four am. And tonight is no different, her body wrapped around a small pillow, one of Spike's t-shirts that she 'borrowed' hanging down to about mid-thigh. And almost as soon as she's asleep, the nightmares start. She hates them. Hates how scared her dreams make her. They're always the same, Ben with a knife held to her throat, Ben cutting her, draining her blood, Ben doing things to her that frankly terrify her. It's always Ben. She very rarely dreams about Glory and when she does, the goddess always ends up turning into Ben.
This dream is the same, Ben holding her down, broken bottle skimming down her cheek, between her boobs, and down to her belly button. Then the bottle starts back up, this time digging into her skin. She screams from the pain as he cuts her open, a blank expression on his face as if he were just dissecting a frog or something. She screams and screams, the pain unlike anything she's ever felt before, so intense, that she thinks she's going to die just from it.
-
Spike grinds his cigarette out in the ashtray his bit got him in an attempt to get him to stop using her pop cans. He always found it to be quite hilarious when the whelp would snag a drink out of one the spare cans sitting around but nobody else found it quite as funny as he did. Well, nobody but his bit, that is.
God, she's gorgeous. Her grief shines through her skin making her seem to glow from the inside. There's just something about the child-woman that touches him in a way that not even Dru did. He just never saw it before. She was always just there, the slayer's little sis, but now she's Dawn. His bit. The slayer was like this blinding light that kept everyone from seeing what's behind her. He never noticed Dawn for anything other than the slayer's little sis until now.
He'll never admit it to the poof but Angel was right; he never loved Buffy. Hell, he's incapable of 'true love' and what he felt for the slayer was obsession. He couldn’t kill her anymore but he could degrade her, bring her down to his level, but she never let him. The things he wanted to do to her…well, his grand-poof of a sire would torture him for months if he knew. But now he realizes it for what it really was; just an obsession. He was obsessed with the slayer, he's always been obsessed with slayers. Killing them, stalking them, fighting them, and when he couldn't do any of those things anymore, he resorted to trying to kill her in any way possible. But he knows now it wasn't 'love'. Because looking back, he's glad they buried her and not his bit.
She's not as blind as the scoobies. Dawn sees him for what he is, sees the monster lying just below the surface. He can hear it in her heartbeat, when it quickens in his presence, partly from fear and partly from desire. She doesn't realize her body's reactions for what they are. She's naïve that way. And damn if he doesn't want to soak up every bit of that innocence until it's as dark as he is. He's fairly sure this is close to what Angelus felt when he first saw Drusilla. Dawn is more than an obsession, she's becoming a craving. Hell, it's why he spends most of the night out. He's not the poof and he's not a gentleman, hell he's not even a man. Sooner or later, he's going to give into what he wants, he always does.
-