"Tara! Tara, please! Love, please wake up! *Tara*!"

Spike felt as if he was screaming the desperate words at the unconscious girl on the bed beside him, but he wasn't. His throat was raw and dry from the cries of his agony, only just ceased moments before, and his voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

As his mind began to clear of the pain-induced haze that had filled it, Spike remembered Tara's soft voice chanting in Latin, and his eyes widened with realization, as he slowly made the connection, and realized exactly what it was that she had done.

She had taken his pain deliberately upon herself; and the agony that had broken him emotionally and nearly destroyed him physically had been far too much for her human body to bear. He could hear her heartbeat steady and strong as he began to calm down, and thought that it was possible her loss of consciousness was a mercy, sparing her any further pain.

Physically, anyway.

*What if she *hasn't* escaped it? Buffy could be doing anything to her still...just 'cause Tara can't show it, being unconscious and all, doesn't mean she's not feeling it. What if she's just bloody trapped in there, with -- with *her*?*

"Tara...love, you have to wake up! *Wake up*!" his weary voice rasped out the words, as he shook her shoulders lightly, his chip firing a warning as his grip bordered on painful for the semi-conscious girl.

But, Spike was quite sure that just as the pain Buffy had caused him had blotted out the inconsequential pangs of his chip in the lobby downstairs, now the suffering Tara had willingly taken upon herself would surely keep her from feeling any slight pain he might cause her in his attempts to rouse her.

His heart broke to think that she was hurting in his place, and he started to get up, determined to go downstairs and get Angel, the Watcher, *someone* who might be able to do something to help her...

...but then, he felt a weak, barely there touch on his arm, and turned back toward Tara with wide, hopeful eyes. She was awake, looking up at him through weary, bloodshot eyes, her hand now resting more firmly on his arm and urging him gently back down beside her.

She was smiling serenely, even through her visible exhaustion.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice soothing in response to the terror that was obvious on his face. "I'm okay -- it's okay, Spike. Are *you* okay? Are you hurting?"

Spike stared down at her for a moment, barely able to believe that she was awake and not in any obvious pain. "No," he replied, shaking his head. "No, I -- I'm all right."

Tara's smile widened with relief, and she closed her eyes, resting her head back on the pillows again as her hand gently stroked his arm. "Good," she whispered with immense satisfaction. "Good..."

Spike's eyes welled with fresh tears, and his hands gently clutched her shoulders as he stared down at her, reassuring himself that she was all right. Slowly, his anxious grip gentled into a caress, running up and down her arms in a soothing gesture -- though which of them he was soothing, he couldn't be sure -- as he lowered his head to rest against her breast, gasping with relief.

"Tara," he sobbed quietly. "Oh, Tara, love...you're okay, you're...thank you, thank you, love, *thank you*..." he whispered against her in desperate gratitude, his tears soaking her blouse as he clung to her, overwhelmed with emotion at the awesome act of love, the sacrifice that she had just made for him.

"Shhh," she gently instructed, raising one slightly trembling hand to run through his hair gently. "It's all right. I'm okay now...we both are." She was quiet a moment before reflecting in a puzzled voice, "She must have stopped..."

"No," Spike objected, raising his head to look her in the eyes, his own solemn and apprehensive. "She wouldn't have stopped."

"Then -- then the spell must have worked!" Tara concluded, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "The others, downstairs -- they must have stopped her!"

Spike stared at her for a moment, taking a few moments to process the idea that Buffy had actually been stopped, even temporarily.

It was difficult for him to fathom the thought.

After all, he had spent the last few months being viciously trained to believe that she was practically omnipotent, an unstoppable power that would have her way with him, no matter what other force was used to try to prevent her.

Tara seemed to sense his thoughts, her eyes softening with compassion on his face, as her free arm rose to wrap around him, pulling him gently up at her side and pressing his face against her shoulder.

"They stopped her," she repeated firmly, her voice low and soothing. "They stopped her, Spike. She can't hurt you now. You're safe now, Sweetheart..."

Spike knew she was trying to calm him, to reassure him, and nodded in a vague attempt to respond appropriately to her attempts, though his mind was spinning with the concept of safety, after so long without it. He still wasn't quite sure that he should trust her words, a part of him certain that Buffy was going to find a way to hurt him, no matter how hard they tried to stop her.

It was true that Buffy would certainly not assume that Spike would go to Angel for help; this old hotel they were sheltered in would likely be the last place she would expect him to willingly go. But that did not mean that she would not contact Angel, if only to tell him whatever story she would surely make up to explain Spike's disappearance with Tara and Dawn, and "warn" the souled vampire to keep an eye out for him.

Buffy knew Angel well; what if she managed to sense that he was hiding something?

What if she started asking questions, and Angel accidentally let something slip?

What if she decided to come here and see for herself...?

Spike was not even aware when he dissolved into tears again, his shoulders shaking with soundless sobs, as he clung to Tara, his tumultuous emotions pouring from him into the safety of her embrace. She wordlessly drew him nearer to her, cradling his head against her shoulder and murmuring soothing words in his ear, her fingers tracing lightly through his hair as she held him close with her other arm.

Spike thirstily drank in the gentle touches, the tender words of affection and reassurance, pitifully grateful for every one. He had been taught that he was not worthy of such things - but Tara gave them freely to him. He had been forced to believe that no one would ever want anything of him but to use him -- and yet, Tara had willingly taken his pain on herself, and now asked nothing in return but the chance to hold him and soothe away what remained of it.

He learned to fear...but Tara was teaching him to trust again.

Spike knew that it would be a long time before he felt truly safe, if ever, but this -- here in the sheltering affection of Tara's arms -- this was a good start.

***********************************

Hot tears streaked Tara's face as she held Spike close to her, trying to will away the horrific agony she now knew too well that he had experienced. Buffy's carefully chosen words of menace and degradation resounded in her mind with disconcerting clarity; the aftershocks of the physical agony the Slayer had inflicted echoed in her body, and she shuddered at the sickening thought of how long Spike had endured Buffy's torture, without any hope of escape.

Her heart ached as his shaking hands tangled desperately in her blouse, as if begging her wordlessly not to leave him, and for a protection that, for all her promises, she was not sure that she had to give. All she could do was her best -- but she was terribly afraid that it might not be enough.

But she *could* hold him, and love him, and give him all the affection and reassurance that she had to give -- and that, she was determined to do.

It was not difficult.

Over the course of the past few weeks, she had seen something in Spike that she was all too familiar with, something that reminded her of a timid, terrorized little girl that she had known, not so very many years ago. She could not miss the shame and uncertainty in his eyes -- not when it had filled her own for so much of her life.

Her heart had broken for Spike from the moment she had learned of the abuses he was suffering at Buffy's hands; and as the days passed, and she grew closer to him, she had only come to care for him more and more. There was so much sensitivity and love in the vampire that the Scoobies so despised, and knowing that made Buffy's calloused, brutal treatment of Spike seem all the more obscene.

Spike's gradually increasing trust in her had only strengthened Tara's affection for him, and her determination to do all that she could to ensure that he was not alone in his pain, as she had been for so long. By the time they reached the Hyperion, she counted him as her dearest friend, and swore that she would never abandon him, not if it cost her her own life.

She had willingly taken Spike's pain into herself, rather than allow him to suffer at Buffy's hands again -- and the depth of humiliation, the utter despair of his helpless position, had taken her breath, as much as the actual physical pain. Still, she knew that what for her had lasted only moments had lasted so much longer for Spike, and she was glad to be able to do just that small thing for him.

So it was that his broken, humble words of gratitude following her actions tore at her heart, his tears drawing her own from her eyes.

"It's all right," she reassured him quietly, tenderly, her lips brushing against the top of his head as she spoke, and without really meaning to, in an instinctive gesture of affection, they brushed through his hair again, pressing against his hairline in a soft kiss. "Spike, it's all right, Sweetheart...I love you...it's gonna be all right...I'm gonna keep you safe, Sweetie..."

Her words trailed off when she felt him tense against her, his body going rigid at the light touch of her lips against his skin. She silently cursed her own carelessness, remembering with regret the violations he had experienced, and the violent, humiliating connections his mind now likely made with any such contact.

"Spike," she whispered, drawing back slightly, gently but firmly pushing him back when he tried to hold her close. She had a feeling that at the moment, his motives for wanting her close had more to do with avoiding her eyes than with keeping her near to him. "Spike, look at me..."

They were lying side by side now, their faces inches apart, but he refused to raise his eyes to hers. His jaw was set in a stubborn but trembling line, his eyes tightly closed, his head bowed.

He shook his head slightly. "I know," he whispered, the words barely a breath, though she could clearly hear in them his shame at his instinctive reaction to her touch. "I know, Tara...I'm stupid...I'm sorry...I know it's not..."

"Spike," she repeated slowly, her voice both firm and gentle at once. "Look at me."

He swallowed hard, wincing slightly as he reluctantly raised his haunted, anguished eyes to hers, his shame and self-disgust evident in his gaze. He was steeling himself for something he was afraid to see in her face, but was painfully sure would be there.

Revulsion...disdain...pity...

He found none of them in Tara's gaze.

Her eyes shone with a warmth and tenderness that took his breath, drawing him into her light, as she raised a gentle hand to touch his chin, tilting his face up toward hers.

"You are not stupid, Spike," she assured him softly. "And you have nothing to be ashamed of. She made you feel this way, Sweetheart. Like -- like you have to be afraid of every touch. Like any intimate contact at all has to be intended to hurt..."

"I k-know you wouldn't hurt me, Tara, I'm sorry...I just..." Spike stammered, his eyes downcast again, his voice confused and self-conscious.

"Shhh."

Tara's finger on his lips stilled his protests, and he flinched, immediately grimacing in disgust at his own reaction.

"I know you can't help it, Spike. I know...she took something so precious from you...but we're not going to let her keep it, Spike."

He felt his eyes brimming with tears at her tender certainty, the loving conviction in her voice, and he lowered his head, gasping back fresh sobs, even as he drank in her encouraging, perceptive words.

"I don't do this," Tara began, before leaning cautiously toward him and placing a light, deliberate kiss on his brow, "to hurt you, Spike. I do this because I love you...because you make me want to show you what you mean to me..."

Spike tensed under her hands at his arms, shaking his head in denial of her words.

"*Yes*," Tara insisted, her hands gently smoothing up and down his arms as she added, "I want to touch you...hug you...hold you...because you're precious to me, Spike...and I don't want to see you hurting, ever. I want to be your friend, Spike...want to be here, if you need to talk...to be held...need *anything*, Sweetheart...because you deserve to be loved..."

"Wh-whore."

Tara blinked, startled by the unexpected word, sounding broken and hollow and despairing on Spike's dry, cracked lips.

"What?"

"I'm nothing -- nothing but her whore," Spike whispered, his voice sounding strangely distant and achingly lost. "I don't d-deserve *anything*, Tara. All I'm good for -- all I could ever do right..." He shook his head, swallowing back a sob, tears flowing freely from his eyes. "Worthless," he concluded in despair. "I'm not g-good enough, Tara. I'm -- I'm a *thing* to be used. A dirty, disgusting..."

"No."

Tara's tone left no room for argument, as she tenderly brushed her fingers across his lips, silencing his devastating words.

"No, Spike. That's not you. Those are lies she told you, and nothing more." Her voice, hardened with restrained fury toward his oppressor, became hushed and awed as she continued, "You're amazing, Spike." Her hand rose to cup the back of his head as she moved in to lay a feather-soft kiss at his temple.

"Brilliant..."

Another kiss found the line of his jaw, and he swallowed reflexively, his body shuddering with the breaking, piece by piece, of emotional walls that had long seemed impenetrable, as Tara went on firmly, admiringly.

"*Strong*..."

Spike tried to shake his head, to deny the word that he no longer felt applied to him at all, but Tara held his head gently with one hand as she shifted the focus of her silken lips to his closed eyes, kissing one and then the other, before breathing out,

"Beautiful..."

Spike opened his eyes as she drew back, staring up at her in stunned wonder and disbelief.

"Spike, you are incredible -- amazing -- and you deserve to be loved." Tara held his gaze as she pressed a brief, innocent kiss to his slightly parted, trembling lips, before assuring him earnestly, "I love you, Spike. I'm doing this because I love you...because..."

"She said she loved me," Spike confessed brokenly, lowering his head toward her chest. He winced as he spoke the words...as if he couldn't bear to say them, and yet somehow had no choice, his devastated heart pouring them out, rejecting their bitterness and anguish.

Tara sensed that while he had to get this out, he could not bear to face her when he did, and she drew him in closer to her, allowing him to hide his face against her chest as he admitted in a desolate voice of agony, "She told me she loved me, Tara...and I-I'd wanted to hear it for so bloody long...I...I let her in...I'm so sorry, Tara, I let her in..."

"Shhh," Tara soothed him as his words shattered into sobs that shook his body. "It's all right, Spike...it's not your fault..."

"She said she loved me," he cried out with the heartache of Buffy's betrayal. "She told me...how could she...?"

"She lied, Spike. Love doesn't hurt. Not like that."

The vampire, whose only experience with receiving love had been with the kind that *did* hurt, was silent, his chest heaving against her with desperate, needy breaths as he struggled to regain his composure and listened to her tender reassurances.

Tara's fingers played soothingly through his hair again as she cannily told him, "I know that nothing in your life has made you believe that -- so it must be really hard. But I'm not going anywhere, Spike. I'm your friend, and I love you -- and I'm going to show you real love, until you know how much you really deserve it, Sweetheart. I'm going to do my best to protect you, Spike...and I'll never leave you. I promise."

Quietly, in the stillness that descended upon them, wrapped in the comforting embrace of his best friend, Spike's heart broke a little more, a sense of longing despair mingling with the rising hope her words had inspired in him.

Because once again, Spike was falling in love...with a woman who could never be his.