Disclaimer: Not my characters or dialog. Just borrowing.

Thanks so much for the encouragement so far!


******************
 
“What a disaster!” Dawn cried, flopping on the couch.
 
“For once, we are complete, total, and utter agreement,” Buffy replied, flopping next to her. They had just gotten back from the Wedding from Hell. Or, Buffy supposed, the Almost Wedding from Hell. The fights between Anya’s demon guests and Xander’s habitually drunken family were not entirely unexpected. Buffy would have been surprised if the whole affair had gone off without some weirdness. But she was completely stunned by Xander. You think you know someone, she mused. It was hard to see goofy, friendly, steadfast Xander as someone who would leave their bride at the altar. Anya’s crushed face was imprinted on her mind. Seems like the Scoobies are 0 for 3 on relationships these days.
 
“Can I please, please, burn this dress now?” Dawn asked, yanking Buffy out of her reverie.
 
“We can have a joint bonfire, as soon as I get the strength to move,” Buffy said, leaning her head against the back of the couch.
 
After a few more minutes of exhausted silence Dawn said, “Wonder where Spike was. He would have been nice to have around about the time the demon fight broke out.”
 
Buffy shrugged. “No idea.” She realized with surprise that she had in some small way hoped he would be there. She hadn’t seen any sign of him in a couple of weeks, and it bothered her for some reason she couldn’t quite fathom. We broke up. It’s over. Why should I care where he is?
 
“Do you think he left town or something?” Dawn asked. “Why would he just leave without saying goodbye?”
 
“I don’t know, Dawn,” Buffy sighed.
 
“What did you two fight about? It had to be something pretty big for him to just disappear like this,” Dawn persisted.
 
“I don’t want to discuss it,” Buffy said. “It was a… a private matter. Between me and Spike.”
 
Dawn frowned in irritation. “What does that mean? You didn’t let Riley hurt him again or anything did you?”
 
“No, nothing like that,” Buffy replied. “I just… it’s complicated, and it’s not really your business, alright?”
 
“Whatever,” Dawn snapped. She abruptly hauled herself off the couch and stomped upstairs to change. Slamming her door, she yanked the ugly green dress off and kicked it into the corner. She missed Spike. He had been her rock all summer, had treated her like a grownup, and always had good stories to tell her. Since Buffy came back she had seen him less and less, and now he was gone and nobody seemed to care, and her bitch of a sister was no help whatsoever. Maybe I’ll go by his crypt tomorrow, she thought as she pulled on a t-shirt. Just because Buffy’s decided to cut him out doesn’t mean I have to. Resolved, she turned on some music and flopped on her bed to read.
 
*********************
 
The next morning Dawn was up reasonably early, for a Sunday. Willow had come home after helping clean up the disastrous wedding and had joined Buffy in vegetating in front of some stupid movie. Dawn hadn’t wanted to speak to either of them. When Dawn had gone downstairs for a snack, Willow had been in the living room making excuses for Xander. He had come from such a terrible home environment; he had been deceived by the demon, and so on and so on. Dawn had wanted to smack her. He broke Anya’s heart in front of all her friends. There is no excuse for that! Buffy had been barely listening as she sat mulling over what had happened, and exactly why she had missed Spike being there. Dawn took Buffy’s noncommittal responses as agreement with Willow, and it utterly pissed her off. Now she came downstairs the next day to see her sister having coffee and flipping idly through the newspaper, and it irritated her anew.
 
“Morning,” Buffy said.
 
“Yeah, it is,” Dawn muttered. She grabbed some cereal and got a bowl down with a bang.
 
“Get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” Buffy asked. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out what Dawn was grouchy about. Maybe she’s still upset about the whole wedding fiasco, Buffy mused.
 
“Whatever,” Dawn said. Buffy gave up and went back to her paper, shaking her head. After she finished Dawn said, “I’m going to the library.”
 
Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Voluntarily? Who are you and what have you done with Dawn?”
 
“Ha, ha,” Dawn replied sarcastically. “I’ve got a history report coming up, and like you are always saying, I need to keep my grades up or we’ll be in trouble.”
 
“Fine. Be home by lunchtime, okay?”
 
“Yeah,” Dawn said, grabbing her backpack. She slammed the door on the way out, making Buffy wonder again what she was so angry about. Buffy shook her head and started washing the dishes. I really should spend more time with her, she thought guiltily. Then she thought about the effort that would entail and she sighed. She had been on an upward course. Stop the unhealthy relationship, spend more time with Willow and Dawn, celebrate her friends’ wedding – it felt like some sort of return to normal. Now with the wedding up in smoke, and Dawn pissed at her for no reason she could fathom, she found herself sinking again. The last time she and Spike slept together popped unbidden into her mind. ‘I always want you’, he said. Why was breaking up with him a good idea again? Oh yeah, because I was using him shamelessly. She sighed and dried her hands, then made her way upstairs to gather some laundry. She supposed she should have made Dawn do some chores before she vanished – it was high time she pulled her weight around the house. Buffy highly doubted that Dawn was actually at the library, but she was finding it hard to care today.Fine. I’ll spend my day off doing housework, she grumbled inwardly as she went about her task.
 
Dawn made her way straight across town to Restfield cemetery. She hoped Spike was still awake, or at least that he wouldn’t growl at her too much for waking him up. She pushed the door to his crypt open slowly and called, “Spike? Are you home?” Spike was sitting in his armchair in front of the TV, dozing. Dawn walked closer and repeated, “Spike? Hello?” Is it my imagination, or does he look skinnier than usual?
 
Spike woke with a start and struggled to sit up. “NIbblet. What brings you here?”
 
“Where were you? We missed you at the wedding,” she said in an accusatory tone.
 
“Bollocks. That was yesterday, wasn’t it?” Spike had struggled to the butcher’s the night before the wedding, using every ounce of his strength. He had had to down two pints right outside the door just to make it back home. He had slept on and off for nearly a whole day, drinking more every time he woke, but he still felt exhausted and weak.
 
“Yeah, it was yesterday. You missed all the excitement,” Dawn said. She perched on the edge of a coffin and looked curiously at Spike. “Are you feeling okay? You look really beat.”
 
“I am at that,” Spike admitted. “But tell me, did they go riding off into the sunset and all that rot?”
 
“No. Xander left Anya at the altar and a huge demon fight broke out,” Dawn said.
 
Spike raised an eyebrow in astonishment. “You’re serious? Harris did that?”
 
“Yeah. Anya was totally heartbroken. It was a complete disaster.”
 
Spike shook his head slowly. “Fucking git, pardon my French. Can’t believe he would ditch Demon Girl like that. She deserves better than that half wit.”
 
Dawn looked down at her feet for a moment as they dangled off the end of the coffin. “Spike, why don’t you come around anymore?”
 
Spike leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “It’s complicated, Bit,” he said in a tired voice.
 
“God, you all say that!” Dawn cried in frustration.
 
“Well maybe because it’s true,” he said, still with his eyes closed. “Your sister’s been through a ton of shit these past few months. She doesn’t know what the hell she wants.”
 
“I don’t care what she wants,” Dawn said. “But I want my friend back. I miss you, Spike.” Spike didn’t answer. “Spike?” Dawn said louder.
 
Spike jerked awake again and sat up painfully. “Sorry, Nibblet.”
 
“Jesus, you really do look like hell,” she said. “Can vamps get sick?”
 
“Starting to wonder that myself,” Spike muttered. He hated to admit his weakness, but out of desperation he found himself asking, “Could I ask you a favor?”
 
“Depends,” Dawn said. “Will you let me come and visit you?”
 
At least until your sister finds out and stakes my sorry ass. Aloud he said, “Of course. But not at night. Don’t want you getting snacked on by any nasties.”
 
“Then what’s the favor?” Dawn asked.
 
He dug into his pocket and fished out some money. “Go to the butcher’s on Grove Street and get me six pints of blood, will you? I felt like such complete shit last night that I didn’t get out to get more, and I’m out.”
 
Dawn hopped off the coffin and took the money. “Anything else you need while I’m out?”
 
“Nothing a fifteen year old could buy legally,” he said with a smirk.
 
“I’ll be back soon,” Dawn promised and she scuttled out the door.
 
Spike lay back and closed his eyes again. He never, ever remembered feeling this bad. He had gone hungry for a week on a boat once, and only the fear of being caught had kept him from eating the whole crew mid-ocean. He had been ravenous then as now, but he hadn’t felt so weak and tired. Could this be a spell or something? But who has it in for me? He didn’t currently owe anyone money, Red was still on the wagon last he checked, Glinda wasn’t the type to curse a vampire for no reason, and Harris and Anya were busy with their little soap opera. He had no explanation for his misery, and it scared him shitless.
 
Dawn returned to find Spike asleep again, and she went over to shake his shoulder. “Spike? Wake up! Feeding time!” His arm felt thinner, his usual muscles smaller and wasted somehow. “Spike!” she cried, getting worried.
 
“No need to shout, Bit,” he grumbled as he sat up. “Thanks for the delivery.” He struggled to open one of the containers, succeeded after a few moments of fumbling, then shakily brought it to his lips. He drank it down and reached for another. Dawn watched, wide eyed, as three containers of blood disappeared down his throat in about two minutes.
 
“Wow, you really are hungry,” Dawn said. “Should we be asking the others to help figure out what’s wrong with you?”
 
“No,” Spike snarled. “Don’t want their bloody help. They treat me like shit unless they need something from me and I’m bloody well sick of it. I’ll figure it out on my own.”
 
“How? You seem like you’re barely able to stay awake!” Dawn observed.
 
“Be fine in a day or two,” Spike insisted, making an effort to sit up and look less pathetic. “Just leave them out of this. Don’t need them poking around making things worse.”
 
“Okay, okay,” Dawn said. She looked down at her watch. “I have to get back. Bitchy the Vampire Slayer wants me home for lunch.”
 
“Don’t be ragging on your sister. She’s got enough on her plate,” Spike admonished. He wondered why he kept defending the stubborn bint, but truth was he couldn’t help it. Still love her, God help me. Fucking ponce you are, William.
 
“Can I stop by tomorrow?” Dawn asked hopefully.
 
“Door’s always open for you, NIbblet,” Spike said with affection. “But if I find you around here at night you’re going to wish some nasty got you after I get through. You hear me?”
 
“I hear you. Thanks, Spike,” Dawn said. She shouldered her bag and left with a wave. Spike returned the gesture, then let his arm fall to the side. The visit with Dawn had completely wiped him out, and he fell back asleep almost immediately.
 
***********************
 
Dawn started making a habit of stopping by Spike’s for a few words on the way home from school. Buffy was usually working, and Willow was usually oblivious, so at first no one seemed to notice that at least an hour of Dawn’s day was spent with Spike. For the first few days she chatted with him about this and that, and he tried valiantly to keep up his end of the conversation. But after a few days she started hitting the butcher’s shop for him on the way over. He kept her supplied with cash, and she brought him six or eight pints a day. He drained them, sometimes before she left, but he still seemed weaker and weaker every time. She grew worried, and begged him to let her tell the others, but he vehemently refused to grant her permission. “If your sister wants to see me she can bloody well come to me,” he snarled. “I’m done being their scapegoat and punching bag.”
 
After a week or so, a day came when Spike couldn’t quite sit up without assistance. Dawn struggled to help him, and he accepted her aid reluctantly. “Spike, please, there’s got to be something we can do for you!” Dawn had said, frantic and desperate. “Maybe you need human blood or something.”
 
“Can’t ask you to get me that, Nibblet,” Spike said, speaking with an effort.
 
“But you look like you’re going to die!” she sobbed.
 
“Already dead, remember?” Spike said, trying to elicit a smile. “Can’t kill me.”
 
“Right now a girl scout could take you out!” Dawn insisted.
 
“Good thing you’re not one of them then,” Spike responded. “Bit, can you… can I lean on you? I just want to go lie down on my bed over there.” His ‘bed’ was currently a few blankets on top of a sarcophagus, but it was close enough.
 
“Here,” Dawn said, bending down to help him up. He draped his arm around her shoulder and she struggled to help him lurch over to his makeshift bed. He pulled himself up awkwardly and slowly, and it clearly took the last of his strength to manage it. “Thanks,” he said. “Think I’ll get some more kip, if that’s okay.”
 
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Dawn promised. She carefully shut the door on the way out and made her way home in a deeply troubled state of mind.
 
When she got home Willow was in the kitchen. “Hey Dawnie,” she greeted her. Looking up from her laptop she said, “Are you okay? You seem upset.”
 
Dawn wanted to tell someone about Spike, but his forceful refusal of all help rang in her ears. “Just had a long day at school,” she lied.
 
Willow noticed the clock for once. “Did you get detention or something? Why are you home so late?”
 
Dawn thought quickly. “A bunch of people were messing around in biology class and the teacher kept all of us after school. Totally unfair.”
 
“Yeah, I used to hate that sort of thing,” Willow sympathized.
 
“Anything to eat around here?” Dawn asked, looking in the fridge to change the subject.
 
“Not a lot,” Willow admitted. “Want to order a pizza?”
 
“Sounds good,” Dawn agreed. She wondered if she was doing the right thing by keeping her whereabouts from the others. On the one hand, she didn’t want to break Spike’s trust. On the other hand, he was looking bad. Really bad. I’ll give him a few more days. Maybe if I can get something extra for him it’ll start him feeling better. She rummaged around for the pizza delivery menu, using all her energy to look normal.
 
****************
 
By the time Saturday rolled around, Dawn was starting to have permanent knots in her stomach from worrying about Spike and his predicament. She had had an after school activity that she couldn’t miss on Thursday, and hadn’t gotten a chance to visit Spike. When she stopped by on Friday with a huge bag of blood, she had been horrified at how thin he had become. He had barely been able to struggle into a sitting position, and had drunk all six pints in rapid succession with only a slight improvement. Dawn’s plan for today was to find him some human blood, one way or another.
 
Dawn was picking her way through a bowl of cereal when Buffy came downstairs. “Hey Dawn, how are things this morning?” Buffy asked. The teen didn’t seem her usual energetic self, and Buffy added, “Are you feeling okay? You look kinda tired.”
 
“I’m okay,” Dawn said, still toying with her cereal.
 
Buffy didn’t buy it, but got herself some coffee first. She sat down across from Dawn and said, “What’s on your mind?”
 
Should I tell her? Dawn thought about it, but couldn’t figure out how to tell Buffy that she’d been visiting Spike every day. After a pause she said, “Do you ever think about Spike?”
 
Buffy was a little taken aback. “Sometimes,” she said noncommittally.
 
“It’s just that…you haven’t seen him in weeks. How do you know he’s okay?” Maybe if I can get her worried about him she’ll go check on him on her own.
 
“He’s over 120 years old, Dawn. I think he can take care of himself,” Buffy said. “Besides, if he wanted to see me he would have.”
 
Suddenly a realization popped into Dawn’s head that widened her eyes. “You were seeing him, weren’t you?” Dawn said accusingly.
 
Buffy jumped a bit. “Wh… why would you say that?” she answered, trying to dodge the subject.
 
“For God’s sake, would you just be honest with me for once!” Dawn exploded. “I’m not two years old, okay?”
 
Buffy frowned into her coffee. Addressing her remarks to the cup she said, “We were sort of… together, in a way. For a while.”
 
Dawn’s mouth dropped open. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
 
“Because everyone would freak and I didn’t want to deal, alright?” Buffy snapped. “It was hard enough dealing with being alive and all the work crap and the home crap and I didn’t need Scoobies weighing in on my…” She stopped herself before she blurted out sex life.
 
“On your what?” Dawn demanded.
 
“I’m not divulging details to you,” Buffy said. “None of it matters anyway. It wasn’t a healthy relationship and I ended it. If Spike actually took the hint and left town, then I’m not really in a position to stop him.”
 
“But what if he didn’t leave town!” Dawn said. “What if he’s hurt or something?”
 
Buffy got up and faced her sister. “Let me say this one more time. I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It. Got it?” She turned and stormed out, nearly colliding with Willow on the way. Willow ‘s eyebrows were raised, indicating to Buffy that she had caught the end of the conversation. “Really don’t want to talk about it with you either. Whatever it was is over.” She sidestepped around Willow and went upstairs, barricading herself in the bathroom for a shower.
 
“Did I hear what I thought I heard?” Willow asked Dawn. “Buffy and Spike?”
 
“I guess,” Dawn said, giving up on breakfast and dumping her half eaten cereal into the disposer. “She’s being oh so communicative about it.” Dawn grabbed her backpack. “Tell her I’m going shopping with Janice,” Dawn said, and she was out the door before Willow could say anything, the door slamming firmly behind her.
 
*****************************
 
Spike was awake, sort of. He had been drifting in and out of a troubled sleep for most of the day, but now the hunger was waking him up. If he had been at full strength he felt that he would be vamping and attacking anyone who came near. As it was he found that it took an amazing amount of effort just to bring his gameface forward. I’m dying, he admitted to himself with quiet finality. The thought chilled him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t died before, but that had been relatively quick. There had been pain, and fear, but he had sunk into blackness before either of the two had gotten much of a hold. He had woken up bewildered and terrified in his coffin, clawing his way to freedom, but Drusilla had been there waiting for him, welcoming him into the night. This experience made his first death seem like a walk in the park. This drifting in and out, never knowing if he was going to wake up again, was deeply unsettling. The hunger was agonizing – worse than being a fledge again. But the worst part of all was the steady ebbing of his strength and abilities. It was as if someone had opened up a stopcock and was draining his essence away a drop at a time. His senses were dulling, he could hardly move his limbs, and he found himself forgetting what day it was. It terrified him like nothing ever had, and each moment he wondered, how much longer? When will this kill me? But on the heels of this thought came another, even more horrifying: What if this doesn’tkill me? His eyes snapped wide open and he literally shook with the idea. What if this went on, and on, and never stopped? What if he couldn’t die, but lived forever slowly dropping away to a pile of bones? Oh fuck. Not that. Jesus Christ not that. His insides turned completely to ice and he shivered uncontrollably.
 
**********************************
 
Dawn had gone to find her friend Janice, but not for shopping purposes. They were walking together toward the seedier side of town, staying close together and keeping a wary eye around them. “And you say this place will sell us booze?” Janice was saying.
 
“That’s what I heard. They’ll sell anything to anyone. But the place is way creepy, so I guess not a lot of kids want to go down there.” Dawn felt a twinge of guilt at deceiving her friend. But she knew that Willy’s sold human blood. She also knew that there was no way in hell she was going to that area alone. Besides, she rationalized; Janice had gotten her in trouble a bunch of times. She definitely owed Dawn a few.
 
They arrived outside of Willy’s bar and Dawn said, “You wait here. If any police come by, or anyone creepy comes by, come in and tell me.”
 
“You want to go in there alone?” Janice asked, wide eyed.
 
“I’ll be fine. Come running if you hear me scream, and I’ll do the same for you.” Fortunately, Janice was not necessarily the brightest bulb in the chandelier, so this didn’t seem to be an odd plan to her. Dawn took a deep breath and peeked in the door of the bar. When her eyes adjusted to the dim interior, she saw to her relief that it was empty except for the bartender.
 
“What do you want here?” Willy snapped. “This isn’t a place for a kid your age.”
 
She moved over to the bar and said, “Look, I’m trying to buy some human blood for a vampire friend of mine. Can I get it here or not?”
 
Willy’s eyes got wide. “You have a friend who is a vampire? And they haven’t eaten you yet?”
 
“No, duh, that’s why I consider him a friend.” She pulled out a wad of cash. “I need four pints of it.”
 
Willy shook his head, but decided that money was definitely appealing, given his business problems of late. “Fine. But I don’t want to see you in here again. You’re taking an awful risk given my clientele, and I don’t want your blood on my floor or my conscience.” Willy pulled four hospital bags of blood from a fridge, which Dawn stuffed in her backpack under a sweatshirt. “That’ll be $50.” Dawn sighed, and handed over all but $5 of her stash. So much for that new sweater, she thought. “Now get out of here,” Willy said sternly, and Dawn scuttled out the door.
 
“Did you get it?” Janice asked.
 
“No,” Dawn replied, affecting a disgusted air. “The guy was a real creep, so I just got out of there. I guess we’ll have to just get fake ID’s like everyone else.”
 
“Let’s get out of here,” Janice said. “This neighborhood gives me the creeps. There are some real freaks driving around here.” The girls walked with all speed back toward the center of the town, and were relieved when they reached the main shopping district. “Do you want to come back to my house for a while? My mom won’t be home for another hour or so,” Janice offered.
 
“Actually, my sister is being more of a bitch than usual lately, so I sort of have to go home. I swear she’s stricter than my mom was,” Dawn lied.
 
“That sucks. Anyhow, call me later if the warden lets you out,” Janice said. They parted, with Janice heading toward home and Dawn making a beeline for Spike’s crypt.
 
“Hey, Spike, it’s me,” she said as she entered the darkened tomb. “Um, did you run out of candles?”
 
“Hello, Nibblet,” Spike said in a scratchy sounding voice. “There’s more over by the window. I just couldn’t quite get out of bed today to light them.” Spike was laying where she had last seen him, on his makeshift bed, looking frail and exhausted.
 
Dawn spied Spike’s lighter on a table and used it to light some of the candles, which went a long way toward dispelling the gloom. When she saw what he looked like though, she almost wished she had kept it dark. Fighting back her horror she said, “I brought you something special.”
 
“What’s that?”
 
“I got you human blood. Maybe it will work better than the animal blood,” Dawn said triumphantly.
 
Spike narrowed his eyes at her. “And where, pray tell, did you get human blood?”
 
“I um… I went to Willy’s,” she said in small voice.
 
“You stupid bint!” Spike snarled. He struggled to sit up, but eventually collapsed back exhausted. Still fixing a stern stare at her he added, “You could have ended up some demon’s midday snack. Buffy would come here and dust me, then resurrect me and dust me again for good measure if she thought I was putting you in danger to help me.”
 
“Look, I went with a friend, and nothing happened, alright?” Dawn said defensively. “Now are you going to shut up and drink this, or is all that effort going to waste?” She pulled out the bags of blood and moved to his side.
 
Spike’s hand grabbed her wrist, but with what felt like a fraction of his usual strength. “If you ever, ever even think about going there again I will drain your stupid neck myself. Are we clear?”
 
“Yeah, whatever,” Dawn said. “Here, sit up and drink this.” Spike found he couldn’t sit up, so Dawn tucked her backpack under his head to prop him up enough to drink. He vamped with an effort, startling Dawn a bit who unconsciously stepped back. He eventually managed to get his fangs through the thick plastic and drank, slowly savoring the rare treat. He repeated the operation with the other three bags, struggling to rip into each one. He handed the last empty bag to Dawn and his demon face receded, leaving his human face, still looking like a famine victim. Dawn helped him lie back down, looking for any sign that the treatment had helped. “Any improvement?”
 
“Hard to tell,” Spike said. His voice sounded a hair stronger, but he still seemed drained and inert. “Let me rest for a while, give it a chance to work. You can come see me tomorrow, but you stay the hell out of Willy’s, you hear me?”
 
“Fine. Waste away to nothing you stubborn vampire,” Dawn said, zipping up her backpack as she did. She found herself fighting tears at the hopelessness of the situation.
 
“Nibblet,” Spike said in a soft voice. Dawn turned back to look at Spike’s earnest blue eyes. “Thanks for your help. I just don’t want you to get hurt, yeah?”
 
“Okay,” Dawn said. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” She waved and left, and Spike closed his eyes. It’s not making a damn bit of difference, William. You’re still righteously and completely fucked. He too found himself fighting tears of despair as he lay there in the cold tomb, waiting for fate to decide what to do with him.
 
******************
 
Dawn came home to find her sister sitting in the living room, television on, but with an irritated expression on her face. Willow didn’t seem to be home, and Dawn hoped that the irritation was directed at the witch, not at her. Her hopes were dashed when Buffy asked, “Where have you been?” as Dawn tried to pass the living room nonchalantly on her way upstairs.
 
“Didn’t Willow tell you? I was shopping with Janice,” Dawn said.
 
“Hmm. Then why did Janice’s mom call here, wondering where she was, and having no knowledge of this supposed shopping trip?” Buffy asked, standing up to face her sister with her arms folded.
 
“I don’t know why her mom didn’t know,” Dawn said, trying to hide her nervousness. Do I tell her? He needs help so bad.
 
“Okay, I’m going to ask you one more time. Where. Were. You?” Buffy said. The edge in her voice was enough to crack Dawn’s resolve.
 
“I’ve been…visiting Spike,” Dawn spit out.
 
“To do what?” Buffy yelled, exasperated by this lying, sneaky teen she was saddled with.
 
“Buffy, he’s sick!” Dawn wailed. Buffy’s jaw dropped in astonishment as her sister burst into tears and a flood of words came forth. “I went to ask him about you and him and he was all tired and thin, and I tried to get him some blood but he just keeps getting thinner and thinner. It’s like he’s starving, and he looks horrible, and I’m afraid he’s going to die!”
 
“How long as this been going on?” Buffy asked.
 
“About two weeks,” Dawn replied, sniffling. “He didn’t want me to tell you, but he just looks so bad…”
 
Buffy regarded her sister suspiciously. She really, really didn’t want to get back into it with Spike. She half wondered if Spike was faking it or using Dawn as a go between. Or maybe Dawn was trying to manipulate them back together. “Dawn, is this for real? Or are you playing a trick of some kind?”
 
Dawn shoved her away and screamed, “Fine! Don’t believe me. But maybe if you could stop being a heartless bitch for five minutes you could just stop by his crypt and at least say goodbye to him before he turns to dust and yet another person disappears from my life!” Dawn stomped upstairs and slammed her bedroom door with resounding force.
 
Buffy was stunned. Either Dawn had taken her dramatics to a whole new level or there really was something wrong. Buffy bit her lip, pondering the situation, then went upstairs to stand outside Dawn’s closed door. “Dawn?”
 
“What?” came the sullen, muffled reply.
 
“I’ll… I’ll go and see him, ok?”
 
“Do what you want. You always do anyway,” Dawn cried bitterly from behind the door. Buffy swallowed, feeling more than a little hurt. But true to her word, she turned and left the house, heading for Spike’s.
 
********************
 
All the way to Restfield Buffy wrestled with what to say to him. How bad off could he be? And what could be wrong with him? Vampires don’t get sick! Arriving in front of the crypt, she took a deep breath and slowly pushed the door open. “Hello?” Buffy said, poking her head into the crypt. “Spike?”
 
“Who’s there?” Spike’s voice was a sepulchral whisper.
 
That question alone alarmed Buffy. Usually he could sense her coming before she even got to the door. She entered the crypt and let her eyes adjust to the gloom. “It’s me, Buffy. Where are…?” She stopped, the words dying in her mouth as she saw Spike. The change from when she had seen him last was astonishing. He was lying on the sarcophagus where they had last had sex. His face was sunken, the skin stretched impossibly tight over his cheekbones, making their normally sharp contours look like blades. His skin was gray and his lips cracked and desert dry. Moving closer Buffy realized she could see every single rib under his t-shirt, and his stomach was a hollow pit. He was almost literally a skeleton covered by skin. “Dear God, Spike, what did you do to yourself?” she breathed.
 
Spike’s eyes opened with an effort. The usually clear blue irises seemed somewhat clouded, and rimmed in red. “Slayer,” he gasped. “Come to put me out of my misery?”
 
Without thinking Buffy raised her hand to stroke his hair. She had to struggle not to retch with horror as a tuft of white curls came off in her hand. “Spike, what happened? Who did this to you?”
 
“Dunno, pet,” he whispered. “I eat, but nothing helps. Bit got me some human from Willy’s. Didn’t do anything.”
 
Buffy added ‘strangle sister for going to a demon bar’ to her mental to do list, then said, “When did this start?”
 
Spike closed his eyes to think. “A few days after soldier boy left, I think. Memory’s getting a bit fuzzy.”
 
“This isn’t some trick to get us back together, is it?” she asked suspiciously.
 
“Yeah, I’m real attractive at present,” he growled with as much irritation as he could muster. “Just look at the line of females outside the door.”
 
Buffy had to admit that the idea of Spike starving himself for her sake was far-fetched. He was one for loud, grand gestures, not quiet wasting away. Besides, she wouldn’t have found out if Dawn hadn’t told her. “Why didn’t you ask for help sooner?” she wondered.
 
“Figured there was no point,” he said in a soft, broken voice. “Figured you’d be glad to see the last of me without having to do the job yourself. Problem is, don’t know how long this job is going to take.”
 
Buffy flushed with shame. He would rather suffer than have to risk being rejected by her yet again. Pity welled up in her as she looked at the horrible state of his formerly beautiful body. He looked like he could barely hold his clothes up. She imagined that if he stood up that everything would just drop right off of him and he would shatter into a pile of bones. Quietly she asked, “What do you want me to do?”
 
Spike wrenched his eyes open again and forced them to focus on hers. “Kill me,” he begged. “Either find some way to stop this, or just kill me. If I have to go out, let me go out by your hand, not by wasting away an inch at a time like this. Please.”
 
Buffy’s heart broke at the desperate edge to his voice. He really meant it. He wanted to die, rather than to waste away like this. Without dropping her gaze for a moment she reached into her pocket and pulled out a stake. A single tear ran down Spike’s face and he said, “Love you, Buffy. Please remember that when I’m gone. I’ll always love you.”
 
Buffy raised her hand, but her arm started to shake. She tried to steel herself to drive the stake into his chest, as she had done with so many vampires. She had barely hesitated when she had stabbed Angel through the heart and sent him to hell. But faced with Spike’s tears and the pathetic ruin of his body she faltered. Finally she gave up and dropped her arm. “I… I can’t,” she said. “I can’t do it.”
 
“Slayer, please,” he whispered. “I can’t bear this any longer. Please.”
 
Buffy threw the stake away and moved closer to him, gently taking his hand. “I’m going to help you Spike. We’ll find out what’s going on. But don’t ask me to kill you. I just… can’t.” She let go of his hand and backed away toward the door. “I’ll be back after dark. Just… just hang on until then.” Then she turned and bolted out the door, nauseated, while Spike lapsed once more into the darkness. 

TBC