Days Gone By

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Please. If I owned these characters, I could have paid for law school several times over.

Summary: “Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver.” ~Sophocles

A/N: Written for the Sins and Virtues Challenge at the Livejournal community, good__evil. The virtue here is “fortitude.”

Day 3

Spike had waited until he knew he’d be alone. Dawn had been watching him closely the past couple of days; she had insisted that the others bring him back to the house, rather than to the crypt. It had taken that long to remember his promise. He might have tried to meet the sun otherwise.

Spike gripped the stems tightly, careless of the thorns cutting into his hands. He welcomed the pain as penance for his failure.

She never would have accepted flowers from him in life, of course. Buffy would have thrown the roses in his face, and he would have preferred it. Better to have her scorn while she was alive than this. A world without Buffy wasn't a world he wanted to live in.

But he'd made a promise.

Spike placed the red roses at the base of the headstone, tracing the lettering with his fingers. The words stuck in his throat; he couldn't speak through the wave of grief.

All he could do was to hope, somehow, that she saw his small sacrifice.

Day 5

Tara knocked tentatively on the door of the crypt. No one had seen Spike for the last couple of days, and Dawn had been asking for him. She hadn’t wanted the girl to go to the cemetery by herself, so Tara had volunteered to check on him.

“Spike?” she called as she opened the door. “Spike?”

“What do you want?”

The surly question caught her by surprise; she hadn’t seen him, nor had she sensed his presence. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. What do you think?”

He emerged from the shadows. Tara couldn’t understand how he had managed to blend into the shadows so well with his pale skin and hair.

“Dawn was worried about you,” she explained. “You might want to come by tonight, to see her.”

Some unreadable expression crossed his face. “Yeah. Sure. Was there anything else?”

“I—I was going to ask you that.” Tara squared her shoulders. “Did you need blood, or—or anything?”

His eyes widened, and she could see the shock writ large on his expressive face. “No.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Thanks.”

“You’ll come by tonight?” Tara pressed. “Dawn might come looking for you if you don’t.”

He nodded shortly. “I’ll be there.”

She smiled at him, then slipped out into the bright, afternoon sun. Tara stood there for a moment, looking up at the blue sky, dotted with fluffy, white clouds. The weather had been beautiful for the last week—too beautiful, considering what had happened.

~~~~~

He slipped around to the back of the house, seeing the light in the kitchen. Spike wondered who was staying with Dawn; he probably should have asked before now. The promise he’d made still bound him.

Spike caught sight of Dawn standing in front of the open fridge, staring blindly at its contents, and he rapped quietly on the glass.

She whirled, her eyes wide and hopeful, although her expression fell as soon as she recognized him. In spite of her disappointment, she hurried over to let him in. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He tried to catch her eye. “You alright?”

She shrugged. “I thought you were…”

“Yeah.” Spike stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say, or how to comfort her. He couldn’t deny the bond they shared, but that didn’t mean he understood it.

“They’re going to fix the Buffybot!” she blurted out.

He blinked, vaguely horrified. Although he could immediately see the logic of the plan, it felt wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. “Oh.”

“They don’t want anybody to know that Buffy’s—” Dawn swallowed the word, and Spike could almost see her choking on it.

Hesitantly, hardly knowing what he was doing, he patted her on the shoulder, shocked when she threw her arms around him.

Dawn made no sound, but he could feel the tears as they soaked through his shirt, and he looked up from the top of her head to see Tara standing in the doorway. Her eyes met his, and to his surprise, another connection was made.

“Tara? Who’s there?” Willow came to stand behind her girlfriend, and Spike saw the immediate disapproval on her face. “What—”

Tara turned, shaking her head and putting a hand on Willow’s arm. “Come on.”

“I don’t—”

“Dawn will be fine.”

Spike didn’t bother calling her on the lie, even though it was unlikely that any of them would be “fine” again.

~~~~~

Tara drew Willow with her upstairs to the bedroom they now shared. She wanted to give Dawn her privacy; the girl might open up to Spike. “She needs him right now.”

“I don’t think he’s a good influence on her, Tara,” Willow replied dubiously. “Buffy would never—”

“Buffy asked him to protect her,” Tara reminded the other woman. “Besides, you heard what Giles said. We need Spike, at least until the Buffybot is up and running. He’s our best chance at keeping the Hellmouth safe.”

Willow nodded, acknowledging the point. “I suppose so.”

“How was Giles when you saw him earlier?”

“About like you’d expect.” Willow hesitated. “I think he’d been drinking.”

“You can’t blame him, sweetie,” Tara said gently. “Next to Dawn, I think he lost the most.”

Willow frowned. “How can you say that?”

“Giles lost his Slayer, Willow, which means he lost Buffy, but he also lost his position. He’s not her Watcher anymore, is he?”

It took Willow a moment to understand what Tara was getting at, but she finally nodded slowly. “I guess so.”

Tara didn’t say anything more, not wanting to voice her suspicions that Buffy’s death might have dealt Giles a blow from which he couldn’t recover. Spike, at least, had Dawn, and her need would steady him. Willow had her; Xander had Anya.

In the end, Giles didn’t really have anything but his shop, and Tara wasn’t sure that would be enough to hold him here, with them. Not unless he decided to reach out to Dawn, or to the rest of them.

Day 15

Spike had never been one for daydreams; he preferred action. In this case, however, action wasn’t possible. There was nothing he could do to bring Buffy back, but he had a different plan for each day.

Yesterday he’d seen himself on the tower, using Doc’s own knife to decapitate him so he could rescue Dawn. Tonight, he thought about how he might have stopped Glory from taking Dawn in the first place. Certainly, if he’d been more clever about things, he could have found out that Glory was Ben, and had the doctor killed.

“We need you tonight.”

Willow’s voice startled him out of his daydream, and Spike realized the sun had gone down. “What’s goin’ on?”

“There’ve been more vampire attacks,” she explained, “and the Buffybot isn’t ready yet. I’m still working on her programming.”

He winced, knowing that he had no one to blame for that but himself. If he hadn’t commissioned the ‘bot, she—it—wouldn’t exist. If he’d kept his promise to Buffy, they wouldn’t need the ‘bot now. It all came down to him.

He pushed himself out of his chair. “Let’s go, then.”

Willow didn’t talk to him as she led the way out of his cemetery. He knew where they were headed immediately, of course. Although there were plenty of graveyards in Sunnydale, there was only one in this particular direction.

“Who’s stayin’ with Dawn tonight?” Spike asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

She didn’t look back. “Tara.”

Spike didn’t say anything, although he could feel the rebuke in her words. She didn’t want him around Dawn; that was clear enough.

When they grew closer, Spike could see the others waiting for them, even Anya. He knew from the way no one looked directly at him that he wasn’t welcome. Willow had asked—ordered—him to come because they knew they needed the extra muscle, but no more than that.

Not that it surprised him. Buffy had been the only one of her gang to treat him like a man. Dawn, in his mind, was in a category all her own.

And Tara, a small voice whispered, reminding him of her offer and her request.

“Did you bring a weapon?” Giles asked.

Spike snorted. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to leave the crypt without one?” When he saw the look on Giles’ face, he warned, “Don’t answer that.”

“I do,” Xander inserted, smirking.

Spike opened his mouth to say something suitably scathing, but Willow cut him off. “That’s enough. Both of you. Buffy’s gone, and if we don’t work together, we won’t last long. Got it?”

Since she was glaring at both of them impartially, Spike decided that it might be better to drop it. “Yeah.”

Xander didn’t reply, turning away to look at the cemetery gates. “So, are we going to do this or not?”

“Come on,” Willow said, marching through the gates.

Spike ambled behind the rest of the group, unable to keep the bemused smile from his face. It looked like Red was taking over Buffy’s role as general. It surprised him a bit, since he’d thought the Watcher would want to take it in hand, but maybe he thought Willow capable of it.

Or maybe he just didn’t want the responsibility.

~~~~~

Tara glanced up from her book to check on Dawn, who was ostensibly watching television. Judging from the expression on the girl’s face, however, it was clear that she wasn’t paying much attention.

“Dawnie?”

She blinked back tears, but one escaped to fall unheeded down her cheek. “I’m okay.”

Tara moved from the chair to the couch, sensing her need to be close to someone. “It’s okay if you want to cry.”

“I don’t.” Her lip trembled. “I feel like I’ve been crying for months.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Tara wrapped her arms around the younger girl, rocking her gently. Dawn clung to her, and though she made no sound, Tara could feel the tears through the thin fabric of her shirt.

This had been the reason that she’d been so adamant about allowing Dawn to see Spike. It might not make any sense, but Dawn felt safe with him, and Spike was strangely gentle with her. Even though Dawn was surrounded by people, it didn’t seem as though there was anyone who was interested only in Dawn.

Except for Spike. For some reason, Dawn had become his entire world the moment Buffy had died.

“It’s going to get better,” Tara promised softly.

“How?” Dawn demanded, pulling back. “Mom’s dead, Buffy’s dead, my dad probably doesn’t even know I exist! Nobody cares about me.”

“Dawn, that’s not true.” Tara wished she could convince the girl.

“I’m the reason she’s dead!” Dawn cried, then tore up the stairs.

Tara could feel the house shudder at the slamming of her door, and she put her hands over her face. Of all of them, except maybe for Anya, Tara knew she had the most distance, the most objectivity. Although Buffy had been her friend, they had never been close. Maybe, if she’d survived, it would have been different, but…

She curled up in a corner of the couch, deciding to let Dawn have some privacy. There was nothing she could do or say that would make this easier on her, so maybe it was better not to try.

~~~~~

Spike caught her scent when he entered his crypt. It hadn’t taken them long to hunt down the vampires that had been causing all the trouble, although he half-wished the group had offered more of a fight. He was in the mood to do some damage, but he’d wanted to come back to his crypt for more substantial weapons than just a stake.

Looked like he wouldn’t be going hunting again after all.

“What are you doin’ here, Nibblet?”

“I wanted to see you.” She rose from his chair. “Where were you?”

“Out with the others. Red wanted my help to chase down a few vampires.”

“You haven’t been around very much.”

“I got the impression I wasn’t welcome.”

Dawn’s chin took on a stubborn tilt that made her look very much like her sister. “It’s my house, so I can say who’s welcome or not.”

He smiled, appreciating her bravado and her bias. It was nice to have at least one person unequivocally on his side. “We’d better get you back.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“You can’t make me.” Dawn smiled smugly. “The chip isn’t going to let you force me.”

Spike knew that much was true, but he had another idea. “Could toss you over my shoulder,” he pointed out. “Wouldn’t hurt you a bit, you know.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Please? Can I stay here for a little while?”

“You want them to worry?”

“They don’t know where I am,” she admitted. “I snuck out the window.”

Spike felt a smile curl his lips, the first one in days. “Chip off the old block, aren’t you?”

Her eyes grew wide and teary, and Spike thought he was going to face the waterworks again. Dawn pulled herself together, however, with a muffled sniffle and a swipe of her hand across her nose. “I missed you,” she confessed. “They blame me.”

“No, they don’t,” Spike said. “’Sides, if they’re gonna blame anybody, it’s me, innit? I promised—” He broke off, unable to tell Dawn what he’d promised, but he could see from the look in her eyes that she knew.

In that instant, Spike knew that the fragile bond that held them together was much stronger than he’d suspected. They were bound together by much more than grief; they also shared their guilt.

“Come on,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll get you in without anybody knowin’.”

“’Kay.” Dawn followed him outside without another protest, but Spike thought she had what she’d come for.

There was at least one other person in the world who’d loved Buffy and who didn’t blame Dawn for the Slayer’s death.

Day 24

Tara bustled around the kitchen, trying to put a dinner together that Dawn would actually eat. Spike didn’t cook, although he was completely capable of ordering pizza, but the girl had been eating fast food too often lately. She needed something green in her diet.

“You alright, Glinda?”

She started, nearly dropping the bowl she held. Spike was at her side in a flash, the bowl securely in his grip, rather than shattered on the floor. “Spike! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Front door was unlocked.” He glanced around furtively. “You did say you wanted me here tonight, yeah?”

Tara nodded. “We—we need someone to stay here with Dawn.”

Spike put the bowl on the counter. “Right. I take it you’re feeding her tonight?”

“Girls can’t live on pizza alone,” Tara replied with a wry smile, surprised when he chuckled. It was a warm sound, and she couldn’t quite believe that it had come out of him. “Thanks,” she added quietly, in case no one had said it to him yet. “For staying with her.”

He met her eyes, and she was caught by the intensity reflected in the blue depths. “I won’t let anything happen to her. Not again.”

Tara swallowed, then managed a smile. “I know.”

He turned away, apparently embarrassed. “Yeah, well… What’s so important that it’s gonna take all of you tonight?”

She froze, caught, and having no idea how to deflect the question. It was a good thing that Spike took the expression on her face the wrong way. “Sorry. Forgot. You an’ Red prob’ly have some big plans.”

It was the tinge of bitterness in his voice that told Tara what he meant, and she was struck by the loneliness of him. Of everyone who had lost Buffy, it was Spike who was most alone. In spite of what everyone had said, Tara didn’t think he would have stuck around for Dawn if he hadn’t truly been in love with the Slayer.

“Yeah. Something like that.” The lie hurt a bit, but she remembered what Willow had said. There was no point in getting anyone’s hopes up—if they even chose to do it. Tara still wasn’t so sure; she knew how wrong it was. And they didn’t dare ask Giles to stay with Dawn; he would want to know why no one else was available, whereas Spike would accept the responsibility willingly.

Raising the dead broke every law of nature, and it opened up doors better left closed. She knew Willow was still researching the possibilities, but Tara hadn’t yet decided whether or not to go along with the plan. Willow might be the nominal leader, but Tara had to be able to live with herself when it was all said and done.

Dawn came clattering into the kitchen, closely followed by the Buffybot. “Hey, Spike.”

“Spike!” The Buffybot beamed at the vampire. “You’re here.”

His face froze. “I don’t want it near me.”

“She’s not ready to go out by herself yet,” Tara said softly, not wanting to hurt the ‘bot’s feelings. Not that a machine could have feelings, but she still felt the need to be careful.

Buffybot looked confused. “But, Spike, you love me.”

If anything, Spike only grew more rigid. “Glinda…”

Tara pressed the wooden spoon she’d been using into his hand. “Stir. I’ll take care of it.” Gently, she said, “Come on, Buffybot. You should probably recharge those batteries.”

“I should stay with Spike,” she argued, although she no longer sounded so sure of herself. “Shouldn’t I?”

“Not tonight,” Tara replied. “I don’t think it’s a good time.”

She was pretty sure it was never going to be a good time.

~~~~~

He knew he hadn’t seen the last of it. From what Tara had said, they planned to use the ‘bot on patrols, which likely meant that he’d be forced to spend time in its company.

Spike refused to think of it as a “her.” It hurt too sodding much.

“It’s really weird, isn’t it?” Dawn offered softly.

He looked away from the television screen; Dawn had chosen the movie, and he’d allowed himself to drift off, ignoring the insipid teen romance being played out on screen. “What’s that?”

“The ‘bot.” She paused. “Sometimes, when I walk into a room, and she’s just standing there, I think it’s Buffy, and I’ll start to say something.”

He swallowed. “And then you remember?”

“Yeah.”

There was nothing to say, really, nothing to do but endure.

“Why did you make it?”

He was startled at her question, although he probably shouldn’t have been. Dawn was often uncomfortably blunt with her questions, especially with him. “Never thought I’d have the real thing, did I? I thought—”

Spike had thought it would be just as good. He’d thought he could live with the fantasy when the reality was so far out of reach. And then—well, then she’d kissed his swollen lips, and had thanked him, and that all had changed.

Now that she was gone—just as she was starting to treat him like a real person—it was too painful.

“Yeah,” was all Dawn said, but he thought she understood. Quite simply, the ‘bot could never fill Buffy’s place in their hearts, no matter how good the replica was.

Day 37

“Are you okay?”

It was a question Spike might have expected from Tara, but not from Willow. From her tone, he knew it was more than a perfunctory show of concern for his safety. Maybe all she wanted was to be sure she wasn’t going to lose her muscle, but he was still warmed by it.

“Yeah, fine.” Spike pushed himself up off the ground and shook the dirt off his duster. He glanced down at the dead body of the demon. “Things are starting to heat up.”

“I know.” Willow’s frown of concern deepened. “I wish the Buffybot were ready.”

He grimaced in response; the last time they’d tried to take the ‘bot out on patrol, it had been disastrous—mostly because the ‘bot had been too concerned for his safety to protect anyone else. “Yeah. Look, why don’t you lot head back? I’ll finish up here.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “We could stay.”

Spike shrugged. “Why?” he asked pragmatically. “It’s late, and I can handle it.”

She hesitated again, then nodded. “Okay. See you later?”

Spike was careful not to let the surprise show on his face. Somehow, Red had gone from treating him as a convenient ally to a member of the group. “Sure.”

He watched the others leave, then completed the patrol as he’d promised. Spike almost preferred to patrol on his own; he didn’t think he’d ever get used to Willow speaking straight into his mind. His route took him past Buffy’s grave by necessity, and he paused.

The grave was in an out-of-the-way corner of one of the quieter cemeteries, and nearly impossible to see unless you were right on top of it. He probably should go straight past it—there was no point in drawing attention to the place.

At least that’s what he’d told himself was the reason behind not visiting since that first night.

Spike took a hesitant step towards the copse of trees and then resolutely walked away. She was gone; there was no point in torturing himself. He was keeping his promise to her.

What more could he possibly do?

~~~~~

“You’re back early,” Tara said when Willow slipped inside their bedroom.

Willow shrugged. “Spike offered to finish up.”

“He’s different than I thought,” she observed.

Willow frowned, beginning to change into her pajamas. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s really good with Dawn,” she said. “I didn’t think he would be.”

The other girl looked uncomfortable. “I still don’t know if it’s a good idea for them to spend so much time together.”

“Who else is going to stay with her?” Tara asked reasonably. “Giles hasn’t made any offers to do it, even if we could risk him finding out about our meetings. I don’t think he wants to be around her.”

“Can you blame him?” Willow asked softly, climbing into bed. “Buffy was—” She stopped. “He doesn’t have the same relationship with Dawn.”

“Dawn’s all we have left of Buffy,” Tara reminded her.

“Now, but eventually—”

“Is this really a good idea, Willow? You know we’re breaking a lot of laws.” Tara was troubled at the idea. There were always consequences for this sort of thing, and the worse the violation, the worse they were bound to be.

“We have to,” Willow insisted. “Who knows where Buffy ended up? She was passing through all those hell dimensions… What if what made her Buffy got stuck there?”

Tara nodded slowly, but she wasn’t entirely convinced. Buffy might have been killed by unnatural means, but she’d still died. Tara thought it more likely that Buffy’s soul had ended up wherever it was that souls went.

But Willow seemed so sure that Buffy needed saving…

“It’s going to be okay,” Willow said, pressing her lips to the side of Tara’s neck. “We’ll get Buffy back, and everything will go back to the way it was.”

~~~~~

Dawn blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay as she eased the window up. She knew she shouldn’t be going out after dark, and that the others would be angry if they caught her, but she couldn’t stay. Not after what she’d heard.

Of course she’d noticed that Giles had been avoiding her. They said he was busy with the Magic Box, but Dawn knew better. He had always made time for Buffy, the way he hadn’t made time for her.

She’d also noticed that the others left her with Tara or Spike—the only two people who were treating her as they always had. But why wouldn’t the others blame her for Buffy’s death? She wouldn’t have had to throw herself off the tower if it wasn’t for her.

Dawn sometimes wasn’t sure what she resented Buffy for more: dying, or saving her.

She scrambled down the tree, trying not to make any noise. Not that she thought the two witches would hear her; they were probably otherwise occupied by now. The Buffybot would be recharging, so there was no one to stop her. She could—

Do what? Go where? Buffy had told her that the hardest thing in the world was to live in it, and Dawn knew what she meant now. She was beginning to think that it might be too hard. It would be better for everyone if she—

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

The cold fury in Spike’s voice startled her. Dawn whirled to see him staring at her. He was clutching an ax, and she gulped at the sight of him. For the first time, she was scared of the vampire, even though she knew he couldn’t hurt her.

“Spike—”

“Well?” he demanded in a low voice. “You should bloody well be in bed where you belong! You’ll get yourself killed, sneaking out like that! An’ if somethin’ else doesn’t do it, I would.”

“Why should it matter?” Dawn asked, anger warring with fear and a grief so deep she didn’t think she’d ever see the end of it. “No one cares! Buffy was the one everybody loved, and now she’s dead. I’m just a burden.”

She watched as his expression changed from sheer fury to horror. “Bite your tongue!”

“It’s true!” Dawn said furiously. “I heard Willow. She said it was no wonder Giles didn’t want to see me, because Buffy was like a daughter, and I’m just—” She broke off. Willow hadn’t said what she was, but she could fill in the blank.

Spike took the two steps needed and bent his head so that they stood nose to nose. “You’re what’s keeping me here.”

Dawn could read the truth in his eyes, and she could see the grief that mirrored her own. They had both lost everything—everything except for each other.

“You need to get inside,” he said, sounding calmer.

Dawn shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

“I’ll sit with you then.”

She realized that he sounded terribly weary, and that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Okay. What are you doing here?”

“Was out on patrol.” He didn’t say more than that, looking pointedly at the tree. “Up you go.”

Dawn shifted, feeling a little nervous. Going up looked a lot different than coming down. Gamely, she began to climb the tree, feeling her way along the thick branch that overhung the roof.

“I’ve got you,” Spike said quietly from behind.

She believed him. Once on the roof, she tiptoed over to her window and clambered inside. Dawn caught her ankle on the sill, and just managed not to fall face-first into the carpet. Spike followed her more gracefully, sliding the window shut behind him.

“Better get to bed,” he said, not unkindly.

Dawn realized that he was going to be in her room while she changed. After asking him in, it wasn’t like she could ask him to leave. “Turn around?”

He obediently did so, keeping his back to her as she hurriedly pulled her pajamas on. “Where did you think you were going?”

“I hadn’t decided yet.”

“Might want to have a destination in mind when you’re running away,” he suggested.

Dawn got into bed, feeling weird to have Spike standing in her room. She’d never been more aware of how childish her decorations were. “There isn’t anywhere to go.”

“They would have followed you anyway,” Spike said softly, coming over to sit on the edge of her bed.

“I know. I just—” Dawn couldn’t explain what she’d wanted—just to get away from it all, to forget who she was and where she’d come from. She knew it was futile, that she had to endure, no matter how painful it was, but…

“It’s easier if you lose yourself,” Spike said, almost more to himself than to her. “Find a bottle, find someone else, find anythin’ just to forget for a while. Doesn’t change the reality of it, though, an’ you’ve got to face it sometime.”

“How do you do it?” Dawn asked softly, squirming a bit so she was looking directly up at him.

“Do what?”

“Go on.”

“What makes you think I know?”

“Because you’ve lost people you loved before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.” She could see him thinking about it. “Dunno. You just do, I reckon.”

Dawn reached for his hand shyly, feeling greatly daring, and was terribly reassured when his fingers closed around hers tightly. “Stay.”

“’Til you fall asleep.”

The coolness of his skin was somehow reassuring. It was knowing that he had been around for a hundred years, and he could be around for a hundred more—long enough to look after her. Maybe Spike would end up being the one person who didn’t leave her.

Day 50

They were no closer to a solution. In truth, Tara didn’t believe that they would reach one; what Willow wanted couldn’t work. She thought of Willow’s plan as a means for the other girl to get past her grief, and she didn’t believe that Buffy could be resurrected unless she really was in some hell dimension.

Telling herself that was the only way Tara could get past the guilt of hiding their plans from Dawn, Spike, and Giles. Dawn would probably be in favor of the plan, but she had a feeling that Giles and Spike would put a stop to it immediately. Or they’d try.

There were moments when Tara wondered why she didn’t confide in Giles at least, why she didn’t put her foot down and tell Willow that she wasn’t comfortable with the idea. Every time she thought of saying something, however, she pulled herself back.

It was unlikely that Buffy’s resurrection would work, and until then, planning was taking Willow’s mind off of her grief.

“I’ve found it,” Willow said excitedly, her eyes bright.

Xander shifted uncomfortably. “Really?”

She nodded. “Some of the ingredients are going to be hard to find, and we’ll need an Urn of Osiris, but I think it can be done.”

“An Urn of Osiris?” Anya repeated dubiously. “Those are notoriously hard to find, and they’re only used for the darkest magic. If Giles finds out—”

“He can’t find out,” Willow said in a hard voice, one that Tara didn’t recognize. “If he knew, he’d want to stop us.”

Tara found herself exchanging looks with Xander; she could see her worry mirrored in his face. “I don’t know, Will,” he said slowly. “If this is dark magic…”

“We have to do this for Buffy,” Willow said firmly. “We don’t know where she is. She could be in a hell dimension. She could be trapped for all eternity if we don’t save her.”

Tara wondered if she should point out that they didn’t know where Buffy was, and that it might be a good idea to find out before they broke every natural law, but she kept quiet. That was probably a conversation to have with Willow in private. She knew her girlfriend didn’t like her theories questioned, particularly not in front of anyone else.

“I want to help Buffy just as much as you do,” Xander said. “I’m just saying, if it’s dangerous—”

“That doesn’t matter.” Willow dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand. “I can handle it. I re-ensouled Angel, didn’t I?”

Somehow, Tara didn’t find that very reassuring.

Day 68

Dawn had needed to talk fast for Spike to agree to see the movie with her, probably because it meant he’d have to pay for two tickets. She wasn’t sure where Willow and Tara were getting their money from, or how they were paying for the house. It was one of those questions she didn’t want to ask.

She thought that her dad might send money if Buffy had asked him to—assuming she could get in touch with him—but that wasn’t a job that could be left to the Buffybot, and telling him the truth was out of the question.

What she wanted was to not spend yet another Friday night at home with Spike while everybody else was out doing whatever it was they didn’t want her to know about. Dawn could sense a secret at this point; the others were acting like they had after they’d found out she was the Key.

She watched as Spike shelled out the money for two movie tickets, then handed one to her. “You’ll want popcorn, I s’pose.”

“Can I?”

His face softened. “Why not? In for a penny, in for a pound.”

“Do you know how Willow’s getting money for the house?” Dawn asked suddenly. It made sense for Spike to have money; she probably didn’t want to know how he got it, but that was to be expected. The others were a different story.

“No idea,” he admitted. “It’s not somethin’ she’d talk to me about, is it?”

Dawn frowned. “I just—what if we can’t keep the house? Or what if we have to tell my dad what happened to Buffy?”

Spike shook his head. “Dunno.” He gave her a sharp look. “What are you really worried about?”

She couldn’t tell him that she was worried about nearly everything—when she thought about it. The questions were endless; anything could happen. What if social services found out about her sister? What if the Buffybot really messed up at some point, and people found out it was just a robot? What if something happened to Spike? What if the others got tired of taking care of her?

How long could things go on as they were now?

It was easier not to think, which is why she’d wanted to go to the movies, rather than staying at home, where Buffy’s absence was almost tangible.

“It’s not a big deal,” is what she said out loud.

“Look,” Spike began in a low voice. “If things get bad…” He trailed off, looking off into the distance. “You’ll always be safe with me. Promised your sister that much.”

Dawn knew what he was saying. Whatever else happened, he would be there, and they would figure it out together. “Thanks.”

He shrugged, looking embarrassed.

She froze, catching sight of Kirstie and some of her crowd. Kirstie was hanging onto Kyle’s arm like a limpet, and Dawn felt her heart sinking. Not that she thought she had a chance after everything that had happened last year—what with going a little crazy after finding out she was the Key, her mom dying, skipping classes, Buffy dying, and generally being known as the weird girl, the chances that Kyle would even look at her twice were slim to none.

“Bit?” Spike kept his voice low, looking at her with concern.

She shook her head. “Maybe we should just go.”

“I bought two tickets, an’ you were the one who wanted to see the bloody film,” he said with ill-disguised impatience. “Now, what’s your problem?”

Dawn stared at the knot of kids mutely, unable to explain.

He let out a grunt. “That lot from your school?”

She nodded. “If they see me—”

“Who cares if they do?” he asked. “You’re with me, aren’t you?”

Dawn looked up at him. His raised eyebrow was a challenge that had her straightening her spine. “Yeah, I am.”

He smirked. “Let’s show ‘em how it’s done, huh?”

Spike’s arm slung around her shoulders was a comforting weight, and Dawn snuggled into his side, determined to give Kirstie a good show. If she was going to be known as the weird girl, she was going to make the most of it.

She knew immediately when she’d been spotted, because Kirstie’s group fell silent. Dawn could feel their eyes on her, but she resolutely kept her gaze straight ahead.

Dawn glanced up at Spike just in time to catch him giving Kirstie and her group a hard look. “What are you lookin’ at?” he demanded.

When she looked over, the knot of teenagers was closing ranks and trying very hard not to look at them. She didn’t bother hiding the smirk. “Thanks,” she said as soon as they’d slipped into the darkened theater.

“You need me to scare the shit out of them again, just say the word.”

Dawn felt a small glow of satisfaction, and she realized that for the first time in two months, she’d forgotten all about Buffy.

~~~~~

He had no idea how it had happened, but somewhere along the way Spike realized that he’d fallen for the Slayer’s sister. Not that he was in love with her, of course, but he loved her, for herself, and not because she was a way to get to Buffy. Dawn wasn’t just a promise, either.

By this point, Spike knew he’d have stuck close by her even if he hadn’t told Buffy he’d protect her.

When they got back from the movie, the witches were waiting for them.

“Where were you?” Willow demanded.

“At the movies,” Dawn replied sharply. “I asked Spike to take me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dawnie,” Willow said, although she was looking at him when she said it.

Dawn’s eyes narrowed, and Spike reflected on how much she looked like Buffy when she was pissed off. “Why? I’m safe with him.”

“You should have left a note,” Tara interjected, placing a hand on Willow’s arm.

The girl’s face darkened. “I did. I put it on the fridge.”

“We didn’t see it,” Willow said. “We were worried.”

“Why?” Dawn repeated. “You knew I was with Spike; you asked him to stay with me.”

Spike frowned, watching the exchange. Something wasn’t right here; Red was hiding something. He was certain of it. “Is there a problem with me leavin’ the house with her?”

Willow opened her mouth to reply, but Tara beat her to it. “No, it’s fine. We didn’t see the note, and we didn’t know where you’d gone.” She smiled at Dawn. “We don’t want anything to happen to you, sweetie.”

Spike noted that she didn’t express the same kind of worry about him. “I’m gonna go,” he said.

“Okay.” Dawn didn’t sound happy about it, and Spike wished he could make this easier on her.

“I’ll be around,” he promised, then left hurriedly.

Spike had noticed a definite difference in the way the Scoobies treated him. Out on patrol, he got a modicum of respect, and Willow at least seemed to have some thought for his welfare. With Dawn, however, while they were quick to ask him to baby-sit, they were just as quick to dismiss him.

“Probably think I’m goin’ to corrupt her,” he muttered.

Feeling a sudden urge to kill something, Spike made a quick detour by his crypt. He wondered how much longer he could go on this way, living this half-life: dreaming up ways he might have saved Buffy by day, looking after a teenage Key and killing demons by night.

What else could he do? Spike had given his word, and that was enough to bind him to this place more surely than anything else would have.

It was plain bad luck that had him running into two Helog demons out to make nuisances of themselves, and worse luck that the resultant battle took him right to the foot of Buffy’s grave. It was all he could do to make sure that Buffy’s tombstone didn’t get knocked over.

In the end, both demons were dead, and Spike knelt on Buffy’s grave, bruised and bloody. He stayed there for a long moment, trying to catch his breath—metaphorically speaking.

At last, he turned to face the cold granite, tracing the letters with a shaking hand. “Sorry ‘bout that, luv,” he murmured. “Didn’t realize how close they were. I’ve been tryin’, Buffy. Dawn—she’s doin’ alright. As well as anybody in her shoes could. You’d be proud of her.”

Spike’s jaw tensed as he stayed there, trying to hold back the tears that threatened. He hadn’t cried since he’d seen her lifeless body for the first time, and he was still ashamed of his weakness.

Not of his grief—he’d loved her, hadn’t he?—but of his tears. What good were tears going to do either of them now?

He fought back the emotion impatiently, leaning his forehead against the cool stone, remembering the expression on her face the night she’d invited him back inside her house. The night she’d died.

Buffy had trusted him at the end. That alone should give him the strength to press on.

Day 73

Tara walked into the shop, glancing around the interior. Anya was stationed behind the counter, making notes in a small notebook. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” she called, not looking up at the sound of the bells.

“It’s okay,” Tara called. “I was just here to get a few things.”

Anya smiled. “Okay,” she agreed cheerfully, clearly grateful that she didn’t have to cater to her customer’s needs, rather than count her money, or whatever she was doing.

Tara looked at the books, wondering if she dared spend her money on the herbal remedies book she’d seen the previous week. Dawn didn’t have health insurance, and if any of them needed medical care, it could get interesting.

“Can I help you find something, Tara?”

Giles’ voice sounded tired, and when Tara looked up at him, it was clear that he didn’t look much better. His eyes were haunted, and the lines around his eyes and mouth seemed to have deepened. “I’m just looking. How have you been? We haven’t seen much of you recently.”

“Yes, well, the shop has demanded quite a bit of my time recently,” he responded defensively. “We’ve been very busy.”

Tara wasn’t buying it. Just the other night, Anya had been complaining that they hadn’t had nearly as many customers recently. There was a part of her that wanted to confront him about that, that wanted to ask why he hadn’t been to see Dawn in the last week, and why he appeared to be avoiding the rest of them unless they came into the shop, or they were all out on patrol.

She was still cautious about making demands of authority figures, however, and she knew that they all had to grieve in their own ways. Giles’ method seemed to involve cutting himself off unless there was some business or professional reason they needed to see him.

“You should come by for dinner some night,” she suggested gently. “I know that Dawn would appreciate seeing you.”

Tara couldn’t quite identify the emotion that flashed across his face, but she thought it might be guilt. “We’ll see. Can I help you find something?”

Recognizing the change in subject for what it was, Tara shook her head, picking up the book of herbal remedies. “No. I just thought I’d get this for reference. Since none of us have insurance right now, I thought it might come in handy.”

For a moment, Tara thought he might say something; she had often wondered why Giles hadn’t offered more assistance in the area of finances, but she wasn’t going to press the matter. “I think that’s a wise idea,” he replied.

When he rang up the book, Tara noticed that he’d given her a steep discount, and she smiled her gratitude, wishing there was something she could do to ease his grief.

Day 82

Tara filled the pitcher with ice, then poured the tea over the top. She’d never lost her taste for the sweet, strong tea her mother had taught her to make, and it was always refreshing on a hot day.

The book sitting on the kitchen table caught her eye, and she put the pitcher in the fridge and went to look at it. It was the one Willow had been using the most for her research into resurrection spells, but Tara hadn’t looked through it yet. Willow was the one who had taken the initiative on that front.

She flipped open the cover, then paged through until she found the bookmark Willow had used to mark her place. It was immediately clear that this was the spell Willow had thought to use; the Urn of Osiris was listed among the required implements. What Tara hadn’t realized was what else was needed.

“What are you doing?”

Willow’s voice startled her, and Tara looked at her sharply. “Is this the spell you wanted to use?” she demanded.

The other girl quickly shut the book. “It’s just one of the options.”

“It calls for the blood of the innocent to be shed.” Tara kept her voice low, unsure of where Dawn was, and not wanting to be overheard. “You know Buffy wouldn’t want that.”

“It’s a deer,” Willow said. “We eat meat, Tara.”

“We eat meat, yes, but with appreciation,” Tara shot back. “We don’t use blood rites to resurrect the dead. The consequences could be devastating. I can’t be a part of this!”

Willow was quiet for a long moment, her face going blank. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Tara pressed.

Willow nodded. “I’ll find another way; I’ll use a different spell.”

Tara sighed in relief, grateful that she’d been able to get through. She loved Willow, but there were times when she was reminded just how differently they looked at the world. “Good. Thank you.”

Willow picked the book up. “I’d better put this away. This isn’t a book Dawn should see.”

Tara went back to cleaning up the kitchen, unable to completely banish her anxious thoughts. She kept reminding herself that she trusted Willow, and if her girlfriend had promised to find another spell, then she would.

Still, Willow had been willing to delve into blood ritual, and that wasn’t something that Tara could take lightly. Willow should know better.

Of course, she couldn’t exactly tell Willow that she knew better. The last time Tara had tried to talk about magic with her girlfriend, they’d had their first major fight, and she’d ended up getting brain-sucked by Glory. Willow had been angry and upset that Tara might be a little afraid of how powerful she was, and Tara hadn’t been able to fully voice her concerns.

She paused as she scrubbed down the countertop. Maybe it was time to say something to Willow again. At least the other woman seemed a little more receptive to her opinion this time.

Tara gripped the counter, fighting a wave of dizziness.

“Tara? Are you okay?” Dawn was there, lending support with an arm around Tara’s waist.

“I’m fine,” Tara assured her. “I just got a little dizzy for a minute.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Whatever it was, it’s passed now.”

“I’ll see you guys later!” Willow called from the hall.

“Where are you going?” Tara asked, poking her head out of the kitchen.

“The Magic Box,” Willow replied. “I need to pick up some supplies and talk to Anya about that thing we need.”

For a moment, Tara couldn’t recall what it was that they needed, but at Willow’s significant look, she remembered: an Urn of Osiris for the resurrection spell. “Okay. We’ll see you later.”

She turned to Dawn. “What do you want to do this afternoon?”

Dawn shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t really feel like doing anything.”

“We could take the Buffybot shopping,” Tara suggested. “W-window shopping, of course, but it would be good practice for her to get out in the real world.”

“Okay. I’ll go get her.”

Tara watched the girl ascend the stairs, trying to remember what it was she’d needed to ask Willow. There had been something; she was certain of it.

“Must not have been important,” she murmured to herself.

~~~~~

Spike crumbled burba weed into his blood, stirring the thick liquid slowly without actually seeing it. Odd, how even the strangest of circumstances could form a pattern, a routine. He’d once thrived on chaos, and now he seemed to have a schedule.

Sleep was often elusive, and so he entertained himself—tortured himself—with ways he might have saved her. Some way he might have kept his promise to take care of Dawn. There was Passions to watch in the afternoon, and either patrol or staying with Dawn in the evening. Even if he was out hunting demons, Spike usually glanced in on Dawn before heading back to his crypt for the day—only to start it all again.

Eighty-two days had passed like that. Eighty-two days where the rest of the world went on without a care, while he struggled to stay upright under the knowledge that Buffy was dead, and she wasn’t coming back.

Spike sat down in his ratty green chair and sipped his spicy concoction thoughtfully. If he had it to do over again, he probably would have made sure Doc was dead. He would have known that the old man wasn’t to be trusted, and that only decapitation would kill him.

Or maybe he would have torn Doc apart and buried the pieces in separate locations, much as they’d done to the Judge, back when they’d first packed him up in boxes. That might have been the more satisfying option.

Killing Doc then would have solved all their problems, and Buffy would still be alive. She probably would have staked him for teaching Dawn to cheat at poker.

Maybe—just maybe—if Buffy had survived, Spike would have eventually had his crumb.

Day 95

“Look, just don’t tell anybody, okay?”

Dawn stared at the wad of cash Spike was holding out. “What’s that for?”

He shrugged uncomfortably. “It’s your birthday, innit?”

Dawn didn’t realize he knew, or that he would even remember. Tara had, and she knew that the witch had notified the others. Giles had even shown up, and he’d given her a very nice check. The cash Spike held out would supplement Giles’ gift nicely; she could actually afford to get some new clothes for school now.

“Thanks.”

“I’d have given you somethin’ better, but I figured you might want to get some clothes. I know money’s kind of tight now.”

Dawn didn’t know how he knew, but she appreciated the thought. “Yeah, kinda. You didn’t have to.”

“I know that. Girl ought to have somethin’ pretty for her birthday, yeah?” He sat down on the porch steps, lighting a cigarette.

Dawn sat next to him, staring off into the night. The others had ditched her again; the meetings were becoming more frequent now, and she wondered what it was they were planning. “Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know what they’re doing?”

He didn’t bother asking what she meant by the question. “No idea.”

“It’s just that they’ve been getting together a lot, but they won’t tell me what they’re doing. I’ve asked.”

“I don’t doubt you have.” Spike smiled at her. “Figure it’s probably somethin’ they want to protect you from, an’ they’ve never wanted me around.”

“Well, I want you around,” Dawn said staunchly.

“Then that’s all that matters.”

Dawn sat there, feeling his nearness, and knowing that she was safe. It was one of those moments that was beginning to come more and more often now—the moments where her grief wasn’t completely overwhelming, where she thought she might be okay.

Day 113

Tara sometimes wondered when they had fallen into a routine. The hole that Buffy had left was still there, of course, but life went on. Eventually, the everyday problems that life threw at them loomed larger than the grief.

Sometimes Tara wondered if by focusing on resurrecting Buffy, they weren’t short-circuiting that process.

“Hey, Tara,” Dawn said, coming into the living room. “Are you guys having another meeting tonight?”

“No, I think the others are going to patrol while we hang out,” Tara responded, squelching the guilt she felt for not telling Dawn what was going on. “What do you want to do?”

The girl shrugged. “I don’t know. What are you guys always talking about?”

“It’s just Scooby stuff, Dawnie,” Tara replied. “We don’t want to worry you.”

“Oh.”

“Come here,” Tara invited, patting the cushion next to her. “What is it you’re worried about?”

“Well, it’s my fault, isn’t it?” Dawn said in a very small voice.

“What? Of course not!” Tara stared at her. “This doesn’t have anything to do with you, Dawn.” From the silence, she knew Dawn wasn’t convinced. “Really. It’s just—adult stuff.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dawn stood. “I think I’m just going to read for a while.”

Tara sat and watched her leave helplessly. There was nothing she could say, short of telling Dawn the truth, which was that they were trying to find a way to bring her sister back from the dead.

“Is anything wrong?” Willow asked, entering the living room. “Dawnie just slammed the door pretty hard.”

“She thinks we’re talking about her when we meet, that we blame her for Buffy’s death,” Tara said softly. “Willow—”

“We can’t tell her anything,” Willow insisted, keeping her own voice quiet. “You know that. We can’t risk the others finding out.”

“Why?” Tara asked. “Spike and Giles want Buffy back as much as we do. They might help.”

Willow shook her head. “They wouldn’t understand, Tara. Spike doesn’t like magic, and Giles would try to stop us because it’s breaking the rules.”

They were the same arguments that Tara had been hearing all summer. Willow was convinced that they couldn’t tell anybody about it, but Tara wasn’t sure. She had no idea how Spike or Giles would react, but she thought it might be good to get a second opinion.

Still, Tara knew that the time for refusing to go along with the plan was long past. Willow had decided that only the four of them could know, and Tara wasn’t ready to break their agreement.

She could only hope that it would be worth it in the end.

Day 114

Dawn woke from her nightmare abruptly. It was always the same; always watching as Buffy ran off the ledge, into the rift her blood had created. No matter what Tara had said, Dawn knew the truth; her sister had died because she existed. Without Dawn, Buffy would still be alive.

Sometimes she wondered if it wouldn’t have been better that way.

She lay quietly, trying to calm her racing heart. Glancing at the clock, Dawn could see that it was too early to get up, but she didn’t think she’d get back to sleep either.

Making as little noise as possible, Dawn rolled out of bed, opening her door slowly to avoid the telltale squeak. After years of practice—fake years—she knew exactly which areas of the floor would creak, and which would remain silent under her feet, and she moved silently to Buffy’s room.

The Buffybot lay on the Slayer’s bed, the batteries drained after a night of patrol. Willow had done a really good job on her, and she was much better about not telling Spike how attractive she thought he was.

Dawn didn’t think anyone knew, but she often snuck into Buffy’s room, after Tara and Willow were asleep, to watch the ‘bot, and to sleep next to her. She found her presence comforting, as though some small piece of her sister was still around.

She wondered sometimes why Spike didn’t get the same comfort. Instead, he seemed to loathe her presence, and Dawn had taken to ensuring she wasn’t around when he was at home. The vampire might have to put up with the ‘bot’s presence on patrol, but no more than that.

Sitting down on the bed next to her, Dawn laid down, nestling her still-damp cheek on the pillow next to her head. From this angle, she could almost believe that she was Buffy, and that she’d just come in to sleep with her sister, the way she had when they were little.

No. That had never happened. Dawn had never really slept in Buffy’s bed, not until after her death.

And maybe that’s why Spike couldn’t stand to be around it, Dawn realized in a flash of insight. For her, the ‘bot was a decent Buffy-substitute. It wasn’t a perfect copy, but it was good enough so she could pretend, so she could lie to herself for just a little while. The Buffybot’s attitude towards Spike was nothing like her counterpart’s however, and so it was merely a reminder that the real Buffy—the one who would have sooner punched Spike in the nose than talk about how sexy he was—was dead.

If Willow could program the ‘bot to punch Spike in the nose once in a while…well, that might be different.

Dawn shifted a little to get more comfortable, then closed her eyes, allowing herself to pretend for just a minute.

Day 130

“What are you doing here?” Spike asked sharply, finding Dawn standing in the middle of his crypt.

She craned her neck to get a better view of his trapdoor. “What’s down there?”

“Nothin’ worth seeing,” he replied. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.” She pouted prettily, and Spike cursed his inability to say no to her. “Besides, school starts soon, and I won’t have as much time.”

“Lookin’ forward to it?” He swung himself up onto the sarcophagus, watching as Dawn did the same, echoing his motions.

She shrugged. “It’ll be something to keep me busy, right? I’ve been trying to teach—”

When she stopped abruptly, Spike sighed, knowing that she was trying to spare his feelings. “You can say it.”

“Say what?”

“The ‘bot.” Spike shrugged. “Better get used to it, hadn’t I? It’s not as if—”

He stopped now, not daring to voice his dearest wish—that somehow Buffy would come back. It was an impossible dream, and he knew it.

“Yeah, I know,” Dawn said, responding to the words left unsaid. “I was going to say that I’ve been trying to teach her how to tell a joke. Her timing is still a little off. She keeps wanting to rush the punch line.”

“You doin’ okay, Bit?” It wasn’t a question Spike usually asked her; he would rather assume that he’d be able to tell if something was really off.

She looked off into the distance. “It’s—weird, I guess.”

“What is?”

“How normal it’s starting to seem.”

“Yeah,” he agreed hoarsely. Spike understood what she meant immediately. The grief wasn’t quite so raw, and there were moments where it was possible to forget what had happened.

“I mean, who lives with a robotic sister, right?” Dawn joked.

“Yeah, not many get that privilege.”

“Sometimes—sometimes I wish I could get away, you know?” Dawn asked wistfully. “I wish I could forget all of this and just…”

Spike knew he shouldn’t offer. He knew that if they were caught, the Scoobies would do their best to make sure he would never see her again, but he had to try. If he could let her forget for just a little while, put a smile on her face, it would be worth it.

“You want to get out of here?”

Her eyes widened. “Where would we go?”

Spike thought quickly. They couldn’t go too far, because they would have to be back before the Scoobies came back from one of their meetings. “You ever been night swimming?”

He could see the spark of excitement light her face, and he knew he was doing the right thing. Even if they were caught, this would give Dawn something to think about other than her dead sister and dead mother.

Day 131

Dawn tried to keep the excitement off of her face when Tara said at dinner, “Spike is going to stay with you tonight, Dawnie.”

“Okay,” she said, not even putting up a token protest about not needing a babysitter. Then, at Tara’s surprised look, she added, “It’s not like you always have to get Spike to come over. I mean, I don’t mind, but I’d be okay by myself.”

“We want to make sure you’re safe,” Tara said with a smile. “Besides, I thought you liked spending time with Spike.”

“I do!” Dawn said, even as the Buffybot entered the room.

“Spike?” She looked excited. “Is Spike here?”

Dawn and Tara exchanged looks. “He’s not here, Buffybot,” Tara said gently. “Are you ready for patrol tonight?”

The ‘bot nodded enthusiastically. “Willow tells me that I am ready.”

“I’m sure you are,” Tara said. “You’ll do great tonight.”

“Thank you!” Buffybot replied brightly. “I should start now, to be ready for when the vampires come out. The vampires come out when the sun goes down.”

Dawn hid a smile. The Buffybot had a gift for stating the obvious. “That’s a good idea, Buffybot.”

When the ‘bot had left the room, Dawn rolled her eyes. “We really need to stop mentioning Spike in front of her.”

“That’s hard to do, since he’s one of us now,” Tara replied with a smile.

“Who is?” Willow asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Spike,” Dawn said.

Although Willow didn’t respond, Dawn could see from her expression that she didn’t agree, an attitude she couldn’t understand at all. Spike was either with her or patrolling all the time. If Spike wasn’t a part of the group, Dawn didn’t want to know what it would take.

“So, what are you guys doing tonight?” she asked casually, still hoping that they would tell her what they kept getting together to do.

“Nothing much,” Willow replied lightly. “Just grown-up stuff.”

Dawn didn’t bother to hide a scowl. They were always acting like she was just a kid, but she was the same age Willow was when they started fighting the forces of evil. Or whatever it was they were doing. “Right.”

The back door opened abruptly, and Spike dashed inside. He slammed the door closed behind him, stomping the flames out of his blanket and looking around warily. “Is she here?”

“She left for patrol,” Dawn replied, knowing that Spike was referring to the ‘bot.

Willow smiled, although the expression was strained. “We should go. Are you ready, Tara?”

“Are you okay for dinner, Dawnie?”

Dawn shrugged. “I was thinking pizza.”

“I’ve got it covered,” Spike promised. “We’ll be fine.”

Dawn did her best to keep her expression nonchalant as the two witches left, then turned to Spike. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he replied with a smile. “Give it a bit. I want to be sure they’re gone, an’ we’ll need to wait for the sun to go down.”

She could hardly stand it. The idea of having an adventure with Spike was enough to drive any gloom away. He was right, though; there was no point in risking Willow and Tara finding out about their plans.

In the interest of time, Dawn made a sandwich and ate it quickly, brushing crumbs into the sink just as the last rays of light disappeared below the horizon.

“You’ve got your suit on?”

“Under my clothes,” Dawn replied.

“Let’s go, then.”

Spike had parked the Desoto a few blocks away, close to a sewer entrance. Dawn could only assume that he’d driven that far and then gone underground the rest of the way. She rolled down the window once inside, wanting to be able to see where they were going.

The silence that fell was the comfortable kind, the sort that didn’t need to be filled. If there was one good thing about the summer, and Buffy being gone, it was being able to spend time with Spike without anyone objecting.

Of course, given the option, Dawn would have much rather had her sister around, but there were small compensations. It was never enough, but it was something.

It didn’t take long to get outside of Sunnydale, and Dawn felt the warm breeze whip her hair about and caress her face. She had just begun to smell salt in the air when Spike turned off the road and began to slow.

“Where are we?”

“Little place I found,” he said. Spike hesitated before adding, “Demons come here to swim sometimes. Don’t think we’ll be disturbed tonight.”

“And if we are?”

“You’re with me, aren’t you?”

That was answer enough for Dawn, and she got out of the car when he parked at the end of the gravel road. All she could see in front of them were trees, and other than the salt in the air, Dawn wouldn’t have known that there was a body of water close by.

Spike took her hand and began leading her through the trees and underbrush. His grip was firm, and Dawn felt a warm glow at his touch. She still had a little bit of a crush, but it was more than that. There were no words for what she felt; her feelings went too deep.

The forest abruptly gave way to open ground, and through the dim light of the moon, Dawn could see the dunes and the ocean beyond. As Spike had predicted, the beach was deserted, and they began their descent down the hill and across the sand.

Dawn slipped several times, and each time Spike’s hand was right there to offer support. He moved with a sure-footedness she found uncanny—or would have if she hadn’t known he was a vampire.

Once they reached the beach, Dawn began to undress, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it on the sand. She felt a little self-conscious in her bikini, and it was made worse by the realization that Spike wasn’t doing the same. “Aren’t you going swimming?”

He shrugged. “Not a big one for getting into the water.”

She glared at him. “Come on, Spike! I don’t want to go by myself.” With a sly look, she added, “What if there’s something in the water? I might need you to protect me.”

His eyes narrowed, but a hint of amusement played around the corners of his mouth. “Go on. I’ll join you in a minute.”

Spike’s word was good, so Dawn finished removing her clothing, dropping it unceremoniously on the sand, just beyond the high water mark. She began wading out into the water, still warm from the hot summer days. She turned to call Spike in, and the words dried up in her mouth.

He stood there in the moonlight, his pale skin almost glowing, his beauty unreal. Dawn felt herself flush, a hot bolt of something in her belly. For a moment she felt like a woman, and she knew the pure physicality of desire, mixed with love.

Desire was followed by confusion. This was Spike, who was still in love with her dead sister, who had been like a brother. This wasn’t a schoolgirl crush but something very different, something darker and more adult.

She turned abruptly, wading out into the water as quickly as possible. It was suddenly very important that Spike not know, that he not see, and he was too perceptive not to.

With sure strokes, Dawn swam out past the rolling surf, treading water and waiting for the next decent wave. She wasn’t surprised when Spike joined her, although she kept her silence, afraid that her voice would betray her.

When the wave came, they rode it in together, and then swam back out.

The night took on an almost dream-like feel, swimming out against the tide, riding the waves back in. Dawn felt her muscles grow tired with the unusual exertion. She had no idea how long they had been there; it might have been forever.

“Last one,” Spike said quietly. “We’ve got to get back. Don’t want to be missed.”

Dawn nodded. “Okay.”

They swam out, her strokes faltering now, exhaustion setting in. She found herself unable to quite keep her head above the surface, and she felt Spike’s arm come securely around her waist. “Hang on,” he warned into her ear.

The next wave took them both in. Dawn felt his strength as she never had before, and it occurred to her to wonder why it was that Spike believed it necessary to keep a promise to a dead woman. He could have left Sunnydale, and no one would have been surprised, but he hadn’t. He’d stayed—for her.

For Buffy, too, but Dawn that that part of it was for her at least.

She felt sand under her, and Spike let go. Dawn felt the loss of contact, but she said nothing. They were no longer alone on the beach, and Spike raised his hand in greeting. “’lo, Clem.”

“Hey, Spike! I didn’t know you came here.”

Dawn knew she probably should be afraid—she was the Slayer’s sister, after all—but she found it impossible, and not because Spike was right there. Clem just sounded so friendly.

“Thought I’d bring a friend,” Spike said noncommittally. “Dawn, this is Clem. Clem, Dawn.”

Dawn held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too!” Clem said enthusiastically. “Spike’s talked about you a lot.”

She looked over at the vampire who was studying the line of trees. “We play poker together sometimes,” was the only explanation he offered.

“Sure, Spike’s spotted me a tabby or two,” Clem said.

“We’d better get going,” Spike said. “You here alone, Clem?”

He shook his head. “No. Fred and his family invited me to come along. I’m early. Will we see you next week?”

Spike shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll see. Talk to you later, mate.”

Dawn followed Spike as he led the way up the dunes, waving at Clem over her shoulder. “He seems really nice,” she offered.

“He’s alright.”

Dawn struggled along in Spike’s wake, relieved when he slowed down and offered her his hand. “Come on, Bit. We’re almost there.”

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine.”

She didn’t think so. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“You should have told me how tired you were. I should have known.”

Dawn rolled her eyes, although she knew Spike wouldn’t see it. “I’m fine, Spike. I was a little tired, but you were right there.”

“Yeah.”

She knew he was thinking about his failure on the tower—or what he thought of as his failure. Dawn didn’t think of it that way; she had seen his face as Doc threw him over the side of the tower. He’d done his best. If anyone was to blame, it was her.

Or maybe the monks, since they were the ones who had sent her to Buffy in the first place.

They were silent on the ride back. Dawn didn’t speak until they were almost to the house. “Thanks. It was fun. I haven’t…”

A genuine smile lit his face, and Spike nodded. “Yeah, sure.” His eyes widened as he drove around the corner. “Bloody hell.”

“What is it?”

“Just caught sight of the witches,” he replied tersely. “Look, we’ll go in through the back, an’ you go straight up to the shower. They’ll want to know why your hair is wet otherwise.”

“I could tell them I just got out of the shower.”

“They’ll smell the salt on you. Make sure you rinse your suit out real good, too.” He raised an eyebrow, looking mischievous. “Only way to break the rules is to make sure you never get caught.”

Dawn nodded and was out of the car like a shot when he’d stopped. She could feel Spike close on her heels, and she slipped inside the back door and up the stairs as he’d suggested. She was in the shower with her swimsuit on when she heard the voices below.

She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she hoped Willow didn’t question Spike about their activities too closely. He sucked at lying.

Dawn finished up in the bathroom, making sure she was ready for bed. A knock came at the door after she’d turned the water off. “You’re up late, sweetie,” Tara called.

“I lost track of the time,” Dawn replied. “There’s no school tomorrow, so I thought it would be okay.”

“Of course. It’s just—did you guys go out tonight?”

Dawn winced, wondering what Spike had said. It wouldn’t matter what she said if their stories didn’t match. “Not out-out, just to the back porch. You know Spike likes to smoke out there.”

“Okay,” Tara called. “Well, we’re going to bed. Don’t stay up too much later.”

Dawn breathed a sigh of relief, waiting until she heard the witches’ door close before she came out. She quickly dried off and threw on her pajamas, slinging her towel and wet suit over the rod in her closet where no one would see it.

The soft knock at the window didn’t surprise her for some reason, and she slid up the sash. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Spike crouched on the roof. “What did you tell Tara?”

“That we were out on the back porch so you could smoke.”

He looked relieved. “Good. That’s what I said.” His expression was rueful. “Think I’ve been a bad influence on you, L’il Bit.”

Dawn shrugged. “Not really. I was sneaking out before we were friends.”

He shrugged. “S’pose you were at that.”

She watched as he turned to go. “Spike!”

“Yeah?”

She didn’t know how to say it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

Day 148

Tara knew that it was definitely too late to back out. The Urn of Osiris had been purchased, Giles was gone, the time was right. If she was smart about it, if she had more of a backbone, she would tell Willow that this wasn’t right.

What they were planning went against every law of nature, and the consequences could be dire.

There was a part of her that was still surprised she’d chosen to back Willow up in her quest to resurrect Buffy, but her girlfriend had been so certain that Buffy was in a hell dimension, she’d allowed herself to be persuaded.

Now they were waiting; Tara just wanted it over with. Her stomach was churning with the knowledge of what it was they were about to do. The power they were getting ready to call on.

“You okay?” Willow asked softly as they arranged themselves around the grave.

She nodded. “I’ll be fine. I just want to get it done.”

“Yeah.” Willow looked around the clearing. “Soon. Just—I’m going to be tested. It’s really important that you guys don’t break the circle, no matter what happens. You have to keep Xander and Anya from doing anything to disrupt the spell.”

Tara nodded fearfully. “Willow, you didn’t tell me about the black market ingredient. It’s not—”

“It’s nothing big,” Willow assured her. “Just something we needed is all. Don’t worry about it.”

Tara wasn’t sure she could help but worry about it.

~~~~~

Spike couldn’t say he was sad to see the last of the Buffybot. He’d always thought that putting her to work for them was a bad idea; the illusion couldn’t last forever. What bothered him was the fact that he’d allowed Dawn out of his sight with the Hellions in town. If they found her—

The motorcycle’s engine roared as he tore around town, everywhere he thought Dawn might go. He couldn’t see her at the Magic Box, although he did catch sight of the others. There was no way he was going to tell them that he’d lost the girl, though.

Spike saw more than a few dead demons, although he was puzzled as to who had done the killing. It was pretty obvious that the ‘bot had more than met her match in the gang, so it wasn’t her. Maybe Willow with her magic; Red was formidable, and growing more so with time.

As a last resort, Spike headed back to the house on Revello, hoping that Dawn would have had the brains to head home and stay out of sight. “Dawn! Dawn! Are you there?”

“I’m here!”

Spike felt the rage hard on the heels of his fear and relief. “Thank God,” he snarled, closing the door behind him. “You scared me half to death…or more to death. I could kill you!”

“Spike.”

He could see the significant look Dawn was giving him, but he wasn’t done yet. The only way to be sure the girl didn’t try something so stupid again was to put the fear of—well, of him into her. “I could rip your head off one-handed and drink from your brainstem. I mean it.”

She didn’t look all that frightened. “Spike.” Dawn glanced back up the stairs from where she’d just descended.

He looked up and saw the ‘bot standing there. “Yeah, I’ve seen the bloody ‘bot before. I didn’t think she’d patch up so—” Spike stopped, realizing that it was impossible. The ‘bot was in pieces, and Willow was never going to be able to piece her together again. That much was certain.

Which meant…

“She’s been through a lot, with the death and stuff,” Dawn said softly, her wide eyes asking him to make it better.

“Her hands.”

“I don’t know how they got like that. I was going to do something.”

Buffy put her hands behind her back, and the movement snapped him out of his daze. Now was not the time to think about the impossibility of the situation—nor what the consequences might be.

Spike got to work, telling Dawn to get the first aid things and leading Buffy to the couch. He was floored and trying not to show it.

While it felt like a dream come true, Spike feared it would turn out to be a nightmare.

Day 153

Having Buffy back should have been wonderful, and it was—to an extent. Buffy was weird, though, not fully connected.

And the worst part—the worst part was that it appeared that she’d lost Spike, too.

“Spike?” Dawn entered his crypt, knowing that she shouldn’t be there, but wanting to see him. It had been days since he’d come by. She’d thought he would be around all the time with Buffy back. “Spike?” she called again.

“What are you doin’ here?” he asked.

Dawn frowned. “Looking for you. I haven’t seen you.”

“Don’t need me now, do you? Your sister is back.”

“Spike!” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, as though everything they’d been though meant nothing. “I don’t—”

“I’m sorry, Bit,” he said in a low tone. “’s just…”

She stood there silently for a long moment. “They didn’t tell you?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s not the same,” Dawn said, knowing that Spike, of all people, would understand. Everyone else just kept saying that it would take time, but Dawn wasn’t so sure. Buffy had just taken off to see Angel the other day, leaving the clean-up from the M’Fashnik to her and Giles.

Spike appeared troubled. “I know.”

“Is she going to get better?”

He shook his head. “I can’t say, luv.”

Dawn felt the sting of tears. “You—do you know what happened to her?”

Spike turned to the fridge. “You want somethin’ to drink?”

“If you can’t say, just tell me.”

“I can’t say.”

“Oh. But Buffy told you?”

“Can’t say that either.”

Dawn glared at him, frustrated. “Spike—”

“I can’t!” His voice mirrored her own feelings. “I don’t know what the bloody hell to do for her, Bit. I want—it’s my fault.”

“It’s Willow’s fault,” Dawn argued. “She’s the one who brought Buffy back.”

“An’ if I’d saved her, Red wouldn’t have needed to.”

“And if the monks hadn’t made me, Buffy wouldn’t have needed to jump off that tower.”

Spike opened his mouth to reply, then shut it abruptly. “Guess that makes this a clusterfuck then.”

Her eyes widened. Spike tended to watch his language a little more when she was around. Considering the situation, though, she couldn’t disagree. “Yeah.” She rubbed the toe of her sneaker into the dusty floor. “Will you come around? Sometimes? I—I—”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. The closeness that had marked their relationship before Buffy had returned was gone somehow.

“I miss you, too.”

Dawn stared at the ground, taking deep breaths, feeling the grief well up in her once again. She missed her mother, she missed the old Buffy, she missed Spike. It was as though her life was going to be one loss after another until she had nothing left.

“Hey now.” Spike’s hands came to rest on her shoulders. “Look, things’ll get better. Just have to bear up, is all.”

“You don’t know that,” she accused. “It might not get better.” Dawn couldn’t forget that she’d found Buffy on top of Glory’s tower, ready to jump again.

Spike’s eyes were altogether too wise. “Maybe not.”

Dawn took a deep breath. “I’ve got to go. I was supposed to go home right after school.”

“Go on then.”

“Will you be around more?”

“I don’t know. Depends on what your sister wants, I s’pose.”

Dawn nodded shortly and then left, settling her backpack straps more securely on her shoulders. She was becoming an expert at enduring.

Day 158

Everyone had been telling her to give Buffy time. Giles had said it, Willow and Tara had said it, Xander and Anya—even Spike. They all acted as though Buffy was fragile, and Dawn shouldn’t bother her about anything.

Approaching Buffy hadn’t been easy at the best of times. It wasn’t like they’d ever been really close, except maybe when they were both a lot younger. In recent years, it had been harder, or Dawn had remembered it being harder. Buffy always seemed impatient, as though she didn’t have time for her little sister.

Dawn wasn’t ready to give up without a fight, though.

“Buffy?”

“Yeah, Dawn? What is it?”

Buffy had plastered a fake smile on her face, but she knew her sister well enough to know that the good cheer wasn’t real. Buffy almost never smiled these days, and she would stand at the sink and watch the water run for minutes at a time. Or she’d stare off into the distance, unable to hear her name called.

Dawn didn’t know where her sister had been, but if she ever figured out who had turned Buffy into an automaton, she’d kick some ass. Well, she’d try.

“I had a question.”

“What’s that?”

“How come Spike is never around?”

Buffy blinked, and for a moment, Dawn could see the old Buffy. A flash of irritation crossed her face, and she frowned. “Why would he be?”

“He took care of me all summer,” Dawn replied. “Didn’t they tell you? When Willow and the others had their meetings, Spike was the one who’d stay with me.”

Buffy’s frown deepened. “Spike did? I thought Giles—”

“I didn’t really see Giles all summer,” Dawn replied. “A couple of times, I guess, but you know.”

She shook her head. “Do you want to see Spike?”

“He’s my friend,” Dawn replied, as though it was obvious. She’d thought it was, but maybe Buffy had missed something in the whole getting readjusted to being alive thing.

Buffy took a deep breath and sat down on her bed. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Dawn. Spike’s not a good influence. Maybe while I was gone, but—”

“And Willow is a good influence?” Dawn asked archly. “She was the one working the big magic without telling Giles, and the others were sneaking around all summer. Spike and I didn’t sneak.” She crossed her fingers behind her back, thinking that it was a small lie to use to prove her point.

“I’ll think about it.”

It was the best Dawn was going to get, and she knew it. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Dawn?” Buffy called as she went to leave.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry things are hard right now.”

Dawn turned to meet Buffy’s eyes, feeling very old. “Yeah.”

If there was anything she’d learned over the summer it was that sorrow didn’t do anybody much good.

Day 159

“I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.”

“How? Giles’ money isn’t going to last forever, Spike.”

He hated seeing her cry; from the moment he’d seen the tears in her eyes when she’d told him her mum was sick, Spike had known his heart was lost. “I can get you money.”

“From where? Legally?”

“Some of it.” Spike chanced putting one hand on her shoulder. “You ought to tell Dawn what happened at least. She needs to know.”

Buffy shook her head, rising from the steps and walking away from him. “Why? So she can worry more?”

“Not sure that’s possible. She cares, pet. They all do, much as I hate to say it.”

“You didn’t know.”

“No, I didn’t.” Spike noticed that she was saying more now. At first, she’d let the silences hang for minutes, or even hours at a time. He loved every moment spent with her, even though it was a bit like torture.

Buffy returned to her place beside him. “Would you have stopped them?”

He gave the question its due consideration, knowing that she wanted the truth out of him, and not a glib answer. “Yeah.” At the surprise on her face, Spike added, “I wanted you back, but… I never thought you were in hell, Buffy. You died to save the world.”

“But you said—”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, Red can be persuasive when she wants. Besides, I know all about hell; never known anybody that had been to heaven before.”

Buffy sat there silently for a long moment. “Dawn asked about you today.”

“That right?” Spike hadn’t been sure how to broach the subject. He was fairly certain that her friends didn’t know how often he was seeing Buffy; they’d try to put a stop to it if they could. Given how Harris had reacted to him immediately after she’d returned, it was clear that they didn’t trust him around Buffy.

Ironic, since he hadn’t been the one to hurt her so deeply.

He missed the sneaky little chit, even though he wasn’t quite ready to risk Buffy’s wrath to see the girl. Their relationship was so good right now, he had no desire to have her revoke his invitation again.

“She was asking why you weren’t coming around anymore.”

“Wasn’t sure you’d approve.”

“I’m not sure I do,” she admitted frankly. “I don’t think it’s healthy for Dawn to spend a lot of time with vampires.”

Spike felt the sting of her words, but he kept his mouth shut. His modus operandi at present was to wait Buffy out. He was sure she would eventually see how much he’d changed for her, that she would give him the crumb he wanted so badly.

Her friendship would do for now.

“But she said you guys spent a lot of time together this summer, while the others were—planning.”

“I stayed with her some nights.” Spike didn’t say anything more, unsure of whether Buffy would approve of what they’d done on those nights. He’d taught her to play poker, and helped her sneak out on more than one occasion.

Buffy nodded, as though his words had confirmed something. “I don’t want her coming to the graveyard to see you.”

“Alright.”

“But if you were here some nights, I don’t think that would be so bad.”

“Just let me know when.”

“You won’t tell her, will you?” Buffy asked a little desperately.

Spike shook his head. “I made a promise, Buffy.”

Something in her eyes changed then, some new awareness dawned. “Yeah, I guess you did.”

Spike had no idea what it meant, but he had hope. It was all he had these days—hope and these stolen moments that brought as much pleasure as pain.

Day 176

Tara watched as Willow opened the curtains with a wave of her hand. “Isn’t it a gorgeous day?”

She swallowed her retort and the reminder that using magic for things you could do yourself wasn’t a good idea. “It looks beautiful outside.”

“You’re still going to help at the Magic Box tonight, right?” Willow asked, beginning to dress.

Tara nodded, running a brush through her hair. “I said I would.”

Willow looked concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Tara assured her. It probably wasn’t a good idea to get into a fight first thing in the morning. Besides, she hated fighting, and she knew that Willow would most certainly turn it into a fight. Willow hated anyone telling her what to do, or suggesting that she might be better off doing something differently. “Just a little hungry. I’ll go see about breakfast.”

She nearly ran into Buffy in the hall. “Oh, hey, Buffy. How did you sleep?”

Buffy forced a smile. “About like always.” She held a mug aloft. “Coffee is my friend.”

Tara watched Buffy disappear into her room, wincing. They had all thought that Buffy would be doing better by now, and while she wasn’t catatonic, she wasn’t the same.

There were moments when Tara wondered if it was a result of the spell they’d done, if the magic had irreparably damaged the Slayer, or changed her on a fundamental level.

She went downstairs, turning over all the instances in the past week where Willow had used magic. When it had been done to protect people, Tara hadn’t minded, but more and more it was becoming unnatural. She knew she needed to say something, but every time she thought about it, fear held her back.

In truth, Tara was worried that if she confronted Willow about it, she wouldn’t like the other woman’s response, and that it could cause a division between them.

Tara didn’t think she could lose her.

Day 178

“That was bloody stupid, Bit.”

“Giles already talked to me about it,” Dawn replied sullenly. “Like, a lot.”

Spike looked at her sharply. “Not Buffy?”

Dawn shrugged uncomfortably. “She hasn’t said much to me.”

Spike frowned, not liking the sound of that. The Buffy he’d known would have ripped her up one side and down the other, and instead she was letting other people tell her sister off. “What were you thinking?”

“I told you. Giles already yelled at me.”

“And I’m askin’ what you were thinking,” he replied pleasantly.

Her face softened. “I don’t know. Janice said it would be fun, and I wanted an adventure. It’s not like Buffy ever lets me go out by myself, or takes me with her. Not like you did.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Best keep that observation to yourself. She’d stop these chats right quick.”

Dawn just sighed, dropping into silence.

He looked off into the darkness, unsure of what to think. It was clear that Buffy wasn’t much better, and he had no idea what to say to her. The early camaraderie between them had become strained, although he was buggered as to why. She leapt on the most innocent of remarks, demanding to know what he meant. He couldn’t even tease her these days without her taking it the wrong way.

Spike felt as though they were teetering on the brink of something, but he didn’t know whether it was something good or bad.

“What else is goin’ on?” he asked finally.

“Willow and Tara are fighting about magic,” Dawn informed him. “But I think they’re okay now.”

“What about the magic?”

Dawn shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t hear the whole conversation.” She paused. “You won’t stop coming, will you?”

“I’m goin’ to try.” It was the best Spike could promise, and he knew it wasn’t much. Their visits were few and far between anyway; Buffy seemed to be seeking him out at his crypt more and more often, as though to prevent him from coming around the house.

Yeah. They were right on the brink of something alright.

Day 190

Tara had no idea what to say, how to confront Willow over using Lethe’s Bramble on her. She’d been afraid of this, afraid that the magic use was getting out of control, and now she had her proof. There was a part of her that knew she ought to walk away. Willow had attempted to control her, she’d violated her mind.

In a very real way, Tara knew she’d been raped. She just didn’t know what it said about her that she still wasn’t quite ready to leave.

She knew leaving was going to hurt, maybe more than anything else had ever hurt, and she just didn’t want to face the pain.

Maybe, just maybe, Willow had learned her lesson. Maybe she would think twice before doing another spell.

Tara wanted to let things go just a little longer.

~~~~~

Spike felt as though all he did now was wait. When Buffy was dead, he endured, took care of Dawn, kept his promise, tried not to think about how easy it would be to meet the sun. Now…he waited.

He waited for her to come to see him, waited for a kind word, waited for some sign that she felt something for him.

Funny, even after she’d kissed him, Spike was still waiting. She’d used him to feel, though, and he suspected that she wouldn’t be coming around again.

The question was whether he kept waiting, or if he ought to do something about it.

Of course, he’d never been much for waiting.

Day 191

Tara tried not to cry as she put her things in a box. She wasn’t sure where she was going; her friends were Willow’s friends, so there weren’t any couches she could crash on.

“Please don’t leave,” Willow pled. “I can change.”

“You wiped our memories!” Tara said angrily. “I asked you to go without magic for one week. You couldn’t even go a week.”

“I’ll do better this time,” Willow promised.

“No, you won’t.” Tara was sure of it. Willow wasn’t going to change until she’d realized that there was something wrong with the way she was approaching magic, and not just that she’d hurt those she loved. At the moment, she couldn’t see the difference.

Willow grabbed her arm. “Tara, please.”

“No.” Tara forced herself to be cool. “I can’t stay with someone who won’t respect my choices.”

She came out of her room, nearly running over Dawn in the hallway. Tara did feel some guilt for leaving the girl, but she knew that she had to be strong—for herself, if not for anyone else.

“Tara—” Dawn began.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I’ll see you soon,” she promised.

Dawn clung to her for a moment, then disappeared into her room, slamming the door behind her. Buffy was nowhere to be seen; Tara didn’t think she’d come home yet. Giles’ leaving had shaken her badly.

She clutched her box tightly as she walked down the stairs and out the front door. Standing on the front walk, Tara took a deep breath.

It hurt—it hurt more than she’d thought possible, but it also felt good. She was strong, and she would survive this.

There were times when leaving took more strength than staying, and by leaving now, Tara was proving her mettle.

~~~~~

Spike caught sight of Buffy through the crowded room. She was sitting at the bar, looking so utterly lost that he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her, even after the way she’d been treating him. He probably shouldn’t be surprised that Buffy was running hot and cold on him, but he wished she’d get over it.

There was a part of him that wanted to walk away, knowing that she was unlikely to welcome him for any reason. Spike knew that Buffy was raw over Giles leaving, that she thought of it as another abandonment. He couldn’t blame her, especially after she’d just told him that she had been in heaven and not in hell.

It was like the others didn’t see how close she was to throwing it all away. Spike wanted to take her pain, wanted to bear it for her, but she didn’t seem to want his help.

Or him. It was painfully obvious that she didn’t want him. Buffy might save his life on a regular basis, as she’d done earlier with Shark and his goons, but that didn’t mean she liked him.

Spike wondered if it was just habit at this point, and if that was the case, he thought it might be easier to walk away.

Easier, but not better.

He made his way through the crowd, standing next to Buffy’s elbow, waiting for him to acknowledge his presence. For one moment, he thought she would take him up on his unspoken offer, then she went back to staring at the bar.

Spike felt the sting of rejection and half-turned, ready to leave. Something made him stop, though. Bracing himself for another rejection, he took the seat next to her. “You want to talk about it?”

She shook her head, and he realized that she couldn’t speak because she was trying too hard to hold back the tears.

“You know, I reckon that it was too hard on him bein’ here,” Spike said. “Couldn’t handle it. Losin’ you nearly broke him.”

“I can’t do this without him,” Buffy whispered.

Spike took a deep breath. “Yeah, you can.”

She shook her head emphatically. “I don’t know. I can’t—I don’t want to be here. I—Spike—”

“Look at me.” He waited. “Look at me,” he repeated, even more emphatically.

Her head turned, and she met his eyes. “What?”

“You’re goin’ to survive this, Buffy.”

“How?”

“Because you’re the Chosen One,” he said with a smile. “An’ you’ve kicked my ass on a regular basis. An’ because you’re not goin’ to give up, no matter how much you want to right now.”

She stared at him, then let out a watery sigh. “Yeah. I should get home.”

“You want me to walk you?”

Buffy looked at him as though she was seeing him for the first time. “Yeah, that would be good.” She frowned as though something had just occurred to her. “Why are you still here, Spike?”

“Because you need me, whether you want to admit it or not.” Spike waited for her disclaimer, but none was forthcoming. Instead, she merely nodded, then led the way out of the Bronze.

Spike followed her, knowing that if he stuck this out, he might get his reward. Maybe he wouldn’t, but he’d always been Love’s bitch.

And he always would be.

~~~~~

Dawn stared up at her ceiling, feeling empty inside. She didn’t understand why Tara had needed to leave. She hated that one more person was leaving. Even if she hadn’t been close to Giles, he’d been part of the family. Tara had been, too.

It was as though Buffy’s return had ripped the world apart at the seams.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks impatiently; she was so tired of crying.

Dawn rose from her bed, feeling thirsty. When she came out of her room, Willow’s door was closed, and she scowled. She wasn’t sure why Tara had to leave, but she knew it had something to do with Willow’s use of magic, and the memory spell. So, while she was angry at Tara for leaving, she was even more angry at Willow for making her leave.

She was just beginning to drink from her glass of water when she heard a noise outside and the sounds of voices. Dawn put her glass on the counter and went into the living room to look out the window.

For a moment, she couldn’t distinguish their figures from the darkness, but then she saw Spike leaning back against the tree out front, and Buffy standing in front of him. Spike said something, and Dawn could see her sister roll her eyes and smile reluctantly.

He grinned in return and leaned in to whisper in her ear. Whatever he said earned him a slap on the chest, but Dawn didn’t think she’d hit him very hard. Spike’s hands came to rest on Buffy’s shoulders, and his face grew serious.

Dawn watched as Buffy leaned in, resting her forehead against his shoulder. One of Spike’s hands began making circles on her back, and Dawn sat down abruptly on the couch, feeling as though she’d witnessed something very private.

She tried to process what she’d just seen. At the very least, the scene between them seemed to indicate that Spike wouldn’t stop coming around, and that Buffy didn’t hate him.

A hundred plans ran through her mind and were just as quickly discarded. She would need to be careful. Buffy would kill her if she knew Dawn was trying to set her up with Spike.

But there was a chance. Maybe Spike could make Buffy happy where no one else had been able to. He’d at least made her smile. That was something. That was huge.

Dawn closed her eyes. Buffy had told her that the hardest thing about the world was living in it, and that much hadn’t changed. Maybe everything else had, but that hadn’t.

Taking a deep breath, Dawn decided it was time to do something. She hadn’t been able to stop Tara from leaving, but maybe she’d be able to keep Spike around.

Just maybe.