by
Lisa Y. Drexel


He found her huddled against his crypt, crying.

Those deep, gut-wrenching sobs that shook her whole body-making him cringe in unwanted empathy.

For longer than he cared to remember, she had been the only one who caused him to feel such a 'human' emotion.

He wished he could say the same now; it would make his life so much easier. But after three years of her tugging at his undead heartstrings-daring him to feel things that he hadn't wanted to feel in over 120 years-it was like an explosion in his body. Suddenly everything he saw and felt was in color where only black and different shades of gray stood before.

Compassion, empathy, caring...they all started with her, but now he couldn't help but see the world in those same beautifully bright and painful colors.

She changed him in ways he was only beginning to understand, and a part of him couldn't help but resent her presence in his life. Everything was so much simpler back then-loving Dru, killing, feeding, bloodshed and violence-it was just so simple and felt so right.

And now, nothing felt right.

When Dru killed that girl at the Bronze and gave him the lifeless body to feed off, he nearly didn't do it. Not since he was a young fledgling had he felt such dichotomy in his being-such revulsion of what he was. Even though the girl was dead and her blood cooling, he finally felt what was intrinsically wrong with his existence. Vampirism killed the hope, love and beauty of life. It fed off the light to give power to the darkness. No longer was he the predator and champion of the darkness that he had liked to think he was, but something totally different and equally unattainable: a being of ambiguity.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

Dru saw it, and Spike knew if he could stay alive long enough and not do something incredibly stupid to cause the Slayer to dust him, Buffy would realize it as well.

It was just a matter of time.

But until then, what was he to do?

Loneliness had always been his enemy, even when he was so much more of a demon than he was now, and going to that Warren character was one of the many impulsive and desperate actions he had made in order to combat that nebulous enemy. It wasn't until he was walking home that it hit him how stupid he was for scaring the kid into making a Buffy-robot. He nearly backtracked and told the human to drop it, but something stopped him.

Was it the demon? That swirling evil inside of him that whispered all the delightful things he could do with the robot? Or was it that burgeoning goodness inside him that hinted that something good could come out of the robot...something noble.

Whatever the reasons, Spike decided to let it go. After all, unlike April, Warren's first project, his Buffy-robot would have an off button...and besides, maybe this robotic Buffy was just what he needed to see if he was in love with an ideal or the real thing-all the while staving off the black emptiness that his life had become.

Who knew? And for all the brooding that Spike had done in the last few months, he was just as clueless as the rest of the population. All he did know was that he loved the Slayer...as crazy and wrong as it was...he loved Elizabeth Anne Summers with all that he was...William and demon combined.

Another sob shook him out of his mental wanderings, and once again he found himself staring at the small, curled up body of his affections. It was then he noticed her dress and nearly growled out loud. The stupid bint left the house in her robe and pajamas and Spike just knew she had no stakes or other weapons on her person.

Fear curled in his heart as he remembered his words to her months before...'every slayer has it...a death wish...'

Was this her death wish?

With that in mind, he turned on his heel and began to slip into the shadows, deciding to watch over her while she mourned-since that was all she would give him-when he heard her voice, barely a whisper, as it drifted to his ears

"I always thought if I-I did th-the right th-things-the good things-that I wouldn't ha-have to be he-here when some-I mean my mo-mother d-died..."

He stopped and turned around, nearly flinching at the pain in her voice.

"-th-that I would die first-th-that I wouldn't have to-to bury someone I lo-loved." She sniffled, rubbing her fingers underneath her runny nose. "I don't think it's in a slayer's makeup to deal with this...she was supposed to bury me, n-not the other way...around-"

Her voice broke as a harsh sob shook her frame.

Clenching and unclenching his fists, he stood there-frozen with indecision.

The crying slowed and Spike heard her sigh-her breath catching in her chest as her body slipped down even further.

"I-I left them, ya know," she said as she sniffled. "There was only so much tea and sympathy I could handle before I felt like exploding."

"They mean well, pet," Spike heard himself say-his voice as soft as hers.

Her head shot up and her watery hazel eyes met his-searing his unbeating heart.

"I know...but I cou-couldn't cry, ya know?"

Finally getting his limbs to move, Spike slowly walked over to her until he was standing in front of her. Dropping down to his knees, he extended his hand-inwardly hoping that she wouldn't catch how bad he was shaking.

"Why not?" he asked forcing himself to not to jump when her small, hot fingers curled around his.

"I'm the Slayer," she said as if that answered everything.

And in a way, it did.

Her Watcher and friends-even her sister-looked up at her to take care of everything. To be the strong one-the unbreakable one. Even if they were open to her more needy qualities, she had come to a place in her life where she couldn't afford to show weakness to them. She needed their belief in her as a slayer too much for her to take that kind of risk. Even when the Commando-boy was around-declaring his love for her all over the place-she wouldn't bend, because she was the Slayer.

Spike was sure that Angel held her distraught body as she wept the tears of heartbreak, but once he left, where had she gone?

Nowhere, he thought to himself. Or sometimes, whether she wanted to admit it or not and for reasons that only she and Spike could understand, she had come to him. No one else had seen her at her weakest as many times as he had. In a lot of ways, their pain and heart-ache paralleled one another's...almost like a funhouse mirror does when you look at your reflection.

"Pet, don't you think you should go back?"

Her eyes blinked slowly, and suddenly she shook her head-reminding him a young child refusing to go to bed at his proper bedtime. "Don't want to," she said petulantly as she tugged on his hand.

Following her lead, he allowed himself to be drawn to her side. Once he was sitting against the cold stone, next to her, she let her body sink even further down, and rested her head on his lap.

"I lied, Spike...about so much. About Riley...Angel...you. Always hiding and lying. My-my mom, she even called me on it right before I went back to the crypt that night when Dru was here. She told me that I was over-reacting and that I should really think about it before I did something I regretted," she paused for a moment and Spike could feel her tears through his jeans. "I wouldn't listen...I couldn't listen...because it was wrong and I knew it was wrong and I wanted to be good and not be punished for doing something bad...and so I insisted that I knew what was right even though the words sounded so hollow...and then after the ordeal at the crypt, I was so angry at you-that it suddenly didn't seem so hollow. I felt justified."

Spike's fingers played with her hair as he listened to her. A part of him was surprised to hear her admit to it-even if he had known it all along, and the other part of him couldn't help but welcome that tendril of smug satisfaction that swept through his body.

He knew it.

That's why he hadn't left Sunnydale or left her alone-because he knew there was something there-between them.

"It's okay, pet-"

Her head shot up, nearly dislodging his fingers. "No, it's not! Don't you get it, Spike? She knew! And it wasn't until I felt like dying at Giles' and was planning my escape that it occurred to me that I wanted to see you-" she stopped, dropping her head back down. "And I had to do it-for her-for me..."

She began crying again, and before Spike could question himself, he gathered her small body into his arms and began rocking her gently-in an attempt to soothe her shaken soul.

How long they sat there, Spike didn't know. But he hadn't dared to move until he was sure she had cried herself to sleep. Once her breath slowed and the shudders dissipated, he held her body close to his and stood up-ignoring that spark of desire he felt when she had unconsciously burrowed her head into the crook of his neck.

Once standing, he made his way through the cemetery towards the Watcher's house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike wasn't really surprised to see the elder human sitting outside with a drink, a wooden stake and water gun in front of him, waiting for her return.

It was what Spike would have done in his shoes.

Giles' eyes widened at the sight of the them, and for a moment the vampire could have sworn this would be the last act he would do on this earth. But then the human took in the Slayer's appearance and let out long-suffering sigh as he stood up.

"Is she okay?" Giles asked quietly.

Spike nodded. "I found her crying by my crypt..."

The human sighed again, his eyes flickering back and forth between the Slayer and the vampire, before finally settling back on Spike. "Well come on then," he said turning towards the front door. "You can come in, Spike, but don't think that I can't revoke your invitation the moment I think there's even a hint that you took advantage of her."

Stiffening at the man's words, Spike reminded himself that Giles was responding like a worried parent and pushed down his rising resentment.

Once inside, instantly he felt four pair of eyes land on him-silently damning his presence.

Ignoring them, he turned to the Watcher.

"Upstairs, in my room. Put her next to Dawn."

Spike nodded as he made his way up the stairs.

Once inside the Watcher's bedroom, he laid his precious burden down on the bed next to her sister and slipped her shoes off before tucking her underneath the covers. Kneeling down beside her, his hand hovered above her-wanting nothing more than to touch her soft hair-when he heard the Watcher's warning in his head.

Dropping his hand, he fell back on his knees and not for the first time since he had heard of Joyce's death, wished that there was something more he could do for her-and Little Bit. Somehow, someway they had both paved a way into his heart-just like their mother had-and for the life of him, he didn't understand how or why.

"Oh pet," he whispered.

"Spike?"

He looked up to her face and smiled when he saw her sleepy eyes watching him. "Yes?"

"Are you leaving?"

His smile left as he nodded yes. "I don't think your Watcher wants me around, love." He nearly flinched at the flash of pain that crossed her face. "Shh, it's okay-I'll be around-just not here..."

"But what if we want you here?" Dawn's voice sang out. "What if that's what we want?"

Startled, he looked over Buffy and saw that Dawn was awake as well. "Well, Little Bit, if that's true then someone will come and get me, and before you know it, I'll be here," he said as he watched her face crumble in pain. "Ah love, don't cry-"

"I can't help it," Dawn said in between sobs. "It just hurts so much..."

Buffy turned around and drew her sister into her arms. "I know, Dawn, I know," Buffy said, her eyes closing as a tears rolled down her cheeks. After nearly a minute, she opened them and met Spike's worried gaze. "I want you to stay-"

"Buffy, are you sure?" Giles asked, stepping inside of the room. "I mean, after everything that-"

"Yes Giles, I'm sure," Buffy said, interrupting him. After detangling herself from Dawn, she sat up, pulling her legs against her chest and hugging them. "I was wrong, Giles. I don't know what I feel-especially now-but I do know that I went looking for him because I needed him...and I still do."

Spike eye's closed in relief when he heard her words. She needs me, he thought to himself. It may not be love, but she needs me.

"And so do I," Dawn added as she pulled her pillow down and held it close to her body.

Spike looked up to see the Watcher rub his tired, aged eyes before releasing an age-weary sigh. "Very well-if that's what you need," he said before meeting Spike's gaze. "I hope you do understand that-"

"Rupert-I understand," Spike interrupted the man as he felt the Slayer tug on his arm in an attempt to get him to lie down beside her.

Spike shrugged off his duster and quickly removed his boots before sitting down at the edge of the bed. Buffy pulled at him, indicating that he should sleep in the middle. He let his body fall down in the center, and almost instantly both Dawn and Buffy had curled their bodies around his-taking the comfort they needed-that Spike willingly gave.

He was theirs.

As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but wonder if this had always been the case and he had just been too blind to see it. These two mortal women touched a part of him that had been nearly dead for over a century.

Those same colors that almost blinded him in their intensity in the past few months, filled him with a kind of peace that had only been fragments of a dream before. And now that those colors were his-to touch, feel and live-he didn't think he could ever go back to the simplistic starkness of his life before.

It was too beautiful here.

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©2001 Lisa Y. Drexel