a l w a y s

Always
[by victoria p.]

Rating: PG

Summary: "Dawn has only Spike, and Spike has remade his world around her."

Notes: Thanks to Dot, Meg, Jen, and Pete.

Date: September 2001

He watches her, always.

The filigree of blue veins beneath pale, almost translucent skin calls to him.

When Buffy died, they'd clung to each other; since she's come back, only with each other do they feel safe.

Xander and Giles grieve; they cling to each other and to Buffy as all their friends die around them.

Dawn has only Spike, and Spike has remade his world around her.

He has always been too willing to sublimate himself to love. He tells himself it's love for Buffy that leads him to care for Dawn. He doesn't notice when things change, when it's Dawn herself that makes him happy, makes him wish the hours without her passed more quickly, because they drag when she's not there.

Giles and Xander don't approve. It's obvious in their eyes. They've never liked him and he can't blame them.

He'd kill them all in a heartbeat, if he still had one, sparing only Buffy and Dawn.

Dawn spends her afternoons and evenings with him, now. Buffy is cold, different. She wishes only to be left alone, a Slayer returned from the peace of her grave, unable to reintegrate fully into the land of the living.

He can give her death and unlife. He wants to, desperately, though he knows that if he does, she'll no longer be the Buffy he loves. But she'll be his.

He thinks he's hidden this desire. He tells Dawn he will always protect her, always be with her.

And then, one day, Dawn tells him. "I want to be with you always. I don't want to get old and die. I want to be like you."

She should know better.

She does know better, but she's convinced herself she's in love with him, this creature who is in love with her distant, fragile sister.

He knows that Buffy will hate him for this, but he is weak and can't resist.

To drink without the pain -- it's what he's wished for every moment of every day since the damned chip was implanted. She offers herself freely, and he knows it will be the best thing he's had in ages, and pain-free, to boot.

Warm blood, pale skin, blue veins.

So young, so tender, and unresisting. He can't resist, and she won't.

He knows this as she pushes her hair out of the way and bares her neck to him.

He drinks deep, listening to her heartbeat slow, feeling the power surge through him. It's been a while since he drank from a warm human, and it's almost too much for him. He almost forgets what he has to do.

But she reminds him, her hands gripping his arms tightly, so tightly that they'd leave bruises if he were human.

He cuts his wrist and offers it to her. She sucks him down greedily, drinking her fill.

The light in her eyes dims, becomes horrified as she realizes just what she's done, what she's sacrificed.

He's a little sad, knowing she'll never be quite the same, the sweet little Niblet who wormed her way into his dead heart. Yet he secretly rejoices -- he's not alone anymore, he has a partner, a lover, a child.

He takes her on her first hunt the next night, letting her drink her fill, sating the bloodlust felt by every new vampire.

He watches her appreciatively. She's no longer so awkward, coltish as she was as a human. There's a demonic grace about her now, and it mesmerizes him.

He agrees when she suggests paying a visit on her sister. He wants a family -- he wants to relive the heady days when he was first turned, with Dru and Angelus and Darla. He knows it will never be the same, but some sad part of him tries to recreate it.

Buffy is frantic with worry when they arrive at the house. The invitation is no problem. "Dawn, get in here!" she shrieks, hugging her sister, a viper to her bosom.

Dawn pretends to be scared, sniffles convincingly as Buffy hugs her.

And then morphs, her face becoming a crude parody of her full, young features, teeth sinking into the pulsing vein at the base of Buffy's neck.

"What--" The Slayer, risen twice from the grave, learns that the third time is indeed the charm.

When Buffy falls limp, and Dawn is wild with the power of Slayer's blood, Spike leans over and offers his wrist. Buffy resists, but with Dawn crooning in her ear about family and love, she gives in to the inevitable. The ties between them are irresistible.

Spike slumps, Buffy collapses, and Dawn rampages through Sunnydale, a reveler in death with the face of a cherub.

When she returns to the house of her birth, Spike is sitting with Buffy in his lap, tracing the veins of her neck with is lips.

"You're mine now, Slayer," he murmurs. Dawn cuddles next to him and he wraps an arm around her as well. "All mine."

End

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Disclaimer: All Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, David Greenwalt, Greenwolf Productions, Sand Dollar, and the Kuzuis. I do not own them and do not intend any infringement on any copyrights.