Spike could not raise his eyes to meet the searching gaze of the blonde witch, choosing instead to focus on the tangled bedclothes that half-covered his battered, naked form.

"Got in a fight," he replied quietly to her question. "Patrollin'. Not any big secret, love...just...tangled with something a bit bigger than me..."

"Hmm." The short, skeptical sound drew his eyes up momentarily to hers in surprise. "Funny. 'Cause, I was thinking something a little *smaller*...and do you often patrol *naked*?"

Spike's eyes immediately fell again, and he swallowed hard, not daring a response for a few moments.

Finally he said in a soft voice of resignation, "Look, Glinda - don't much feel like talking about it at the moment. I'm bloody tired - sore - and not trying to be unappreciative, pet, because this is bloody kind of you, but - I really just want to get some sleep, yeah?"

Tara was quiet for a moment, but he could still feel her studious eyes focused on his face - and it made him feel self-conscious and a little bit afraid...not of Tara, but of what the consequences might be if he allowed her to figure out the Slayer's secret.

"Okay," she finally relented, and Spike forced himself not to visibly show his relief. "Whatever you want, Spike. But you're *not* getting rid of me until I've gotten you patched up a little - deal?"

Spike knew it was the very least that she was going to agree to - and he wasn't exactly sure that he could move on his own the way he felt, let alone tend to his own countless injuries.

"Deal," he agreed softly.

"Now," she nodded as she reached up to take him by the shoulders, shifting him cautiously so that he was lying back further against the pillows stacked behind him. "I really didn't get very far before you passed out on me. I just managed to get you to the bed is all...so...this could take a little while..."

" 'S what I said," Spike muttered, just a bit of a sullen note to his voice, expressing his resentment at having no choice but to accept her help. " 'S your choice, Glinda...don't stay on my account..."

"That's exactly why I'm staying, Spike." That tone that was slightly reprimanding, somehow both gentle and sharp at the same time, was back in her voice - and Spike felt a little stirring sensation in his heart, as he remembered the last time he had heard that tone in anyone's voice, when speaking to him.

His mother's voice.

"I'm staying because you need someone to help you right now!" Tara continued. "I mean - if you really want me to, I could go, and leave you here to deal with what's quite possibly two broken legs and a shattered up ribcage all on your own -- you know, so whatever monster decided to come looking around your crypt can finish you off -- or I can stay and get you patched up, so your legs don't heal up all crooked and you don't walk like Quasimodo for the rest of your short and painful life. Your choice, Spike."

He hesitated just a moment -- but was forced to acknowledge the simple common sense of her words.

"Fine," he muttered, finally relenting completely. "Please -- stay." His voice was flat, resigned, as he uttered the courtesy of an actual invitation.

"Good," Tara replied firmly, pausing just a moment before adding, "Because I was going to, anyway."

There was moment's startled silence, as Spike took in her words - and then began to laugh softly. Tara looked up at him, surprised, to see him shaking his head, a slightly bemused expression on his face.

"Well," he huffed softly, though he did not seem really upset. " 'S long as we've got *that* settled..."

Tara couldn't help it; she started to laugh too.

The tension eased between them, Tara decided that it was time to set about actually tending to the vampire's wounds, if she was indeed going to finish at some time before morning.

"Okay," she began patiently, her hand resting at the edge of the sheet that was draped over Spike's body to just slightly below his waist. "I'm pretty sure your legs are broken...so I'm gonna n-need to take this sh-sheet down..."

"Won't bother me if it doesn't bother you, love," Spike's lips turned up in a slight smirk, as he met her eyes with one eyebrow raised suggestively.

Tara flushed slightly with embarrassment, but shrugged her shoulders and met his gaze as she added flatly, "I grew up with three brothers - it's nothing I haven't seen before."

Spike accepted that, nodding and leaning his head back against the pillows again, closing his eyes. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "Between that and the whole lesbian thing - my manly bits ought to be pretty much safe, yeah?"

"Yeah," Tara replied a bit absently as she pulled the sheet back - her eyes widening in horror at the ghastly display that was the vampire's battered body. "Okay," she added, her voice slow and carefully even. "Um - this is worse than I thought...I'll be right back, Spike, okay?"

"Okay," he replied, his eyes still closed, not moving as she covered him back up for the moment and went to his bathroom to gather a basin of warm water and a few extra bandages.

When she returned and carefully pulled the sheet back again, she froze, a troubled frown creasing her brow. Spike was still lying on his back, propped slightly up on the pillows, his eyes closed and his expression blank and even - perhaps a little *too* blank and even.

Especially considering the fact that his entire body was shaking.

"Spike," she softly began, her voice a slow, gentle whisper as she reached out a hand to touch his arm - and he nearly jumped through the ceiling. "It's okay...calm down, okay? If you - if you don't want me to..."

"No," he cut her off in a low, gruff voice, not opening his eyes. "I - I need you to do this." A brittle smile crossed his face as he added with a forced laugh, "Can't - can't exactly do it m'self, can I, love?"

His tone made it clear that the admission was very difficult for him.

"No," she agreed. "No, you can't."  

She hesitated a moment, her hand running slowly and soothingly up and down his arm in an attempt to settle him, as she dipped a soft cloth in the basin of warm water and began gently bathing his battered legs before she continued, "Whatever happened, Spike - I know it's none of my business - but - but it's over now. Whoever did this - they're not here now. I am. And *I'm* not going to hurt you - so you can just relax - okay?"

Spike was quiet for a moment, his jaw working in an effort to repress the emotions that were brought closer to the surface by her compassionate, perceptive words and the gentle touch that was so unlike any he could even remember feeling before.

Finally he whispered, "Okay...trying, love..."

Tara's face crumpled at the heart-breaking vulnerability and honesty in his low, quiet voice, and she was grateful that his eyes were closed, not allowing him to see the pity she felt.

"I know," she reassured him softly as she continued to work on his wounds.

As Tara continued her gentle ministrations, cleaning and bandaging all of the open wounds that scored Spike's pale flesh; binding broken limbs tightly to help them to heal correctly; and soothing each bruise, each torn place, with an ointment that he had had in his bathroom, but that she had made a bit more effective with a few carefully chosen Latin words spoken over it - the tears she had been fighting were now flowing freely down her face.

She had grown up in an abusive home, and had received her share of beatings from her father, and on occasion even from her brothers. She had spent the past two years hanging around the Scoobie gang, and had seen her share of evil and violence in that time, and the aftermath, in the form of injuries that Buffy, Xander, Willow, and even Spike, had taken in the course of "fighting the good fight".

Never had she seen anything that compared with the brutality that had been unleashed on Spike's broken, damaged form.

His right leg *was* broken, and terribly bruised all around one spot - as if someone had repeatedly struck in that one spot, with brutal force. His ribcage was almost black with bruising, and Tara knew enough to recognize the signs of broken ribs when she saw it. His entire body was covered in bruises of varying degrees and colors - telling the witch that every mark she saw was not the result of tonight's attack.

This had been only one of many recent beatings.

Even more disturbing to her were the traces of dried fluid, the strange bruising around his groin - evidence that at some point during the course of this evening, Spike had had sex. But the signs that it had obviously been a violent sort of coupling, in combination with the brutal beating that apparently had been a part of the encounter, made Tara wonder with a sinking feeling of dread...

Had it been of the vampire's own free will...or had he been forced?

And as always - there were his untouched, perfect hands to consider...evidence that during the whole violent affair, he had not lifted a finger in his own defense.

As she gently worked over him, she was relieved to feel Spike's body begin to gradually relax into her hands, his rapid, anxious breathing slowing to a steady pace, as he began to drift off, lulled to rest by the soft, soothing motions of her hands over his injuries - and by the spell Tara was whispering under her breath as she worked.

"Wha...what are you doin' to me," Spike mumbled, his head falling to the side, his eyes opening with an effort - but he did not sound particularly upset.

"Just helping you relax," Tara reassured him. "It's a sort of - emotional anesthetic, you might say." She frowned, suddenly anxious. "Is - is that okay? I just thought it would - make this easier for you, Spike..."

He nodded weakly, as if half-asleep still. " 'S fine," he murmured. "Thanks, love..."

Finishing up, Tara glanced toward the entrance at the top of the ladder, and noticed the soft gray light, telling her that the sun was already up. She frowned with concern, thinking, as she put away the few first aid supplies she had not used, and returned to Spike's side.

He was trapped here - helpless - should the person who had done this to him decide to come back.

And she was not going to push the issue, but she had a very good idea that she knew who that person was.

"Spike?" she said softly as she knelt beside the bed, reaching out a gentle hand to cup his cheek and turn his face toward her.

"Mmmm," he mumbled, barely opening his eyes - much more relaxed now than he had been when she had arrived.

"I need to go...I have class...but I'll come back to check on you tonight, okay?"

Spike nodded, his eyes struggling to focus on her, a distant, dream-like expression in his eyes. " 'kay," he whispered.

"I - I don't want to leave you here," Tara admitted, frowning as she glanced anxiously toward the ladder again. "I mean - the spell I did should help you sleep all day - and you *need* to sleep - but if - if somebody were to come in here...there's no way you'd be up to defending yourself..."

Spike's blue eyes had finally focused fully on hers, wide and trusting and full of a softness and vulnerability, in this half-conscious state, that nearly broke her heart, in thinking how that vulnerability had been exploited.

A soft, distant smile crossed the vampire's face as he mumbled with just a trace of his usual irony, "Don't think I'd be...up to it...anyway, love..."

Tara smiled with relief, both at his weak attempt at a joke, and at the sign that he was at least alert enough to hear what she was about to say.

"No," she agreed, shaking her head as she met his eyes with a tender sympathy. "No, you wouldn't. That's why - that's why I'd like to do something for you, Spike...I'd like to do a spell - over the crypt...I'd like to make it so that nobody could get in, without your invitation."

Spike's eyes widened slightly, and he seemed a bit more alert, as he thought over what she had said, trying hard to process it through the sweet, blissful oblivion that was pressing his mind to rest.

"Y-you - you can do that?" he asked, a bit incredulous.

Tara nodded. "I can. And that way - nobody could get in to hurt you, you know? You'd be s-safe...until I come back tonight. Okay?"

Spike hesitated, frowning as sleep continued to creep back up on him, muddling his thoughts and making it hard to focus. "Yeah," he whispered with a strangely ironic smile. "Safe..."

"Is that okay?" Tara pressed him gently.

"Sh-she won't like it," he slurred slightly as his eyes closed again, his head falling limply against her hand as he struggled to stay awake a few moments longer. "Sh-she..." His voice trailed off, as his body's weariness, and the sleeping spell combined to take him over.

"She who, Spike?" Tara asked him, her eyes widening with something that was not quite surprise.

She had had a feeling it was a "she".

"Spike - she who?" she repeated.

But it was useless. The vampire was asleep.

He had not exactly given his permission for her to do the spell - but he *had* sounded as if the idea of safety was a welcome one to him, if a foreign one, lately. And he had not told her *not* to do the spell; he had only said that "she" would not like it, apparently meaning if she tried to come in and found that she could not.

Tara smiled grimly at that thought.

"Well, I don't give a damn whether or not *she* likes it," she muttered, to herself, as Spike was dead to the world. "I'm not letting her hurt him - not if I can stop her."

She performed the simply incantation while she was still standing in the crypt, therefore allowing her to come back inside later that evening without an invitation. She was pretty sure that Spike would be still sleeping when she returned, or at the very least not able to get out of bed just yet.

She returned to his bedside for a moment before leaving, looking down at him with an aching sorrow in her heart, to see the ruin that had been left of the supposedly "evil" creature, whose heart and the love that filled it were so much bigger than those she had seen in most humans that she knew.

She leaned down to gently kiss his cheek, before standing up straight again.

He never knew she'd done it, sound asleep by now, the rest and magic doing their work to help his body to recover.

"I'll come back, Spike," she promised softly. "And no one will touch you until I do."