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“Spike? Is there something you want to tell me?”

Spike just stared at the girl, wide-eyed, feeling completely trapped – and having absolutely no idea how she could possibly know – but -- *did she*?

He shook his head, too emphatically, looking away from her quickly before she could see the sudden intensifying of the ever-present fear in his eyes. “N-no,” he whispered, edging slightly away from her across the mattress, without even realizing he was doing it.

Dawn was young – but she had never been stupid.

It was immediately obvious to her that Spike was hiding something.

“Um – okay,” she began slowly, taking a deep breath as she tried to think of a way to get past Spike’s fear and get him to be honest with her – and came up with nothing. She looked up at him, her piercing blue gaze boring into him until he felt no choice but to meet it again. “Spike – no one’s gonna hurt you. I promise. I just want you to – to tell me what happened, okay?”

“N-nothing,” Spike insisted, his voice trembling as he shook his head, drawing back further against the headboard. “Nothing – h-happen. Please…”

Dawn felt a surge of anger fill her at Spike’s repeated reversion to pleading, as if she would hurt him just for not giving her the answer she apparently wanted – but it was not directed at the frightened, shaking vampire who seemed to be trying to press himself physically into the headboard in an attempt to get away from her.

*If I ever get my hands on whoever did this,* she vowed silently. *I’ll tear them apart myself. I don’t care if they’re ten times as strong as me – I’ll kill them…*

A troubled, sick feeling came over her at the thoughts that followed that one, but she shook her head slightly, trying to clear them for the moment.

Right now – she had to focus on Spike.

And the alarming bloodstain she had just found on her bedroom wall.

“Spike,” she said, making her voice firm as well as gentle, as she purposefully turned onto her knees on the bed, crawling across it to close the distance between them and placing her hands on his shoulders, deliberately ignoring the way he flinched away from her as she went on, “Look at me.”

He winced slightly, obviously not wanting to obey – but unable to do anything else.

Holding his gaze, Dawn shook her head slightly as she reminded him intently, “Spike – you *know* I’m not going to hurt you – no matter what. You know that. So you don’t have to be afraid to tell me the truth. What happened?”

Spike stared at her, his emotional anguish showing clearly in his eyes. He shook his head pleadingly, aching to make her understand – and terrified that she would understand too much. “N-not afraid – not *you*,” he struggled to explain.

Dawn’s eyes widened slightly, as she realized what he was saying.

He wasn’t afraid to tell her because of what *she* might do.

But – if he wasn’t afraid of *her* -- then…who…?

A sick, fearful feeling came over her, as she thought again of the bloodstain on her wall – and wondered again how it had come to be there. Something deep inside her whispered insistently that she already had a very good idea – but the rest of her quickly silenced that part, desperately not wanting to believe it.

She opened her mouth, ready to tell him that he was safe here – that nobody could hurt him – that it was okay to tell the truth.

But -- *was* he safe?

The blood on her bedroom wall made her wonder.

“Good,” she answered simply at last. “Just so you know that.”

She gave him a sad, reassuring smile as she leaned in close to give him a gentle hug, which he gratefully sank into, holding onto her desperately for a few long moments, until Dawn slowly pulled away, looking him in the eye again.

“I’m gonna go down and see if Buffy needs any help with breakfast. It kinda sounds like she’s – tearing up the kitchen. Or – maybe some daylight demon broke in, and she’s trying to keep *it* from tearing up the kitchen,” she shrugged playfully as she rose and started toward the door. “Either way – she could probably use some help.”

Spike hesitated a moment, and then started to rise to go with her, his eyes focused on hers uncertainly for some cue as to what he was to do.

Dawn held up a hand, shaking her head slightly. “Wait – you just wait here, okay, Spike? I’ll come get you when your breakfast is ready – okay?”

Spike nodded, though he still looked very anxious as he studied her expression, still obviously afraid that he had said or done something wrong. She reached down and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, before turning and heading out the door.

She knew by the slight edge of panic she saw in his eyes that Spike would rather have gone with her, and she felt guilty for deliberately leaving him behind – but she had to talk to her sister, and she really felt that it would be better for Spike not to be there when she did.

If Spike wouldn’t talk to her – maybe Buffy would.

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

Ten minutes later, Buffy and Dawn were both standing in Dawn’s bedroom, frowning at the disturbing spot of dried blood on her wall. Buffy’s eyes were wide and troubled, as she reached a hand slowly toward it, without actually touching it, shaking her head slightly before turning questioning eyes on Dawn.

“You don’t know how it got there?”

“No idea,” Dawn confirmed, staring at the spot. “It was there this morning when I came in here to get dressed.”

Buffy’s mind immediately went to the mysterious re-opening of the wound on the back of Spike’s head – and the telling fact that the spot on the wall seemed to be at the precise height where Spike’s head would have had to have been, if the blood was indeed from that very wound.

“Any ideas?” Dawn asked her sister, her voice low and grim.

“One or two,” Buffy replied without hesitation, glancing toward the doorway. “Spike – um – Spike hurt his head last night. He said he hit it on the nightstand – but – I’m kinda thinking not.”

“Does he seem – like, really, *really* freaked out this morning to you?”

Buffy nodded silently, looking away with a troubled, thoughtful expression on her face. “Yeah. Something – something happened last night that he’s not telling us about.”

“How?” Dawn asked, confused. “I mean – nobody was here last night but us – and Giles, and – and Xander…” Her voice trailed off in an oddly hesitant way that drew Buffy’s eyes back up to hers, and brought fears back to her mind that she had tried her best to forget.

“Buffy – you don’t think…?”

“Don’t.” Buffy cut her sister off sharply, before she could voice those fears. “Dawnie – don’t say it…you know it’s not possible…Xander wouldn’t have – couldn’t…”

“How did you know I was going to say Xander?”

Dawn’s voice was still, clear, as she turned sharp, crystal blue eyes on her sister’s face in a puzzled question – and Buffy did not want to answer the question, though she understood why Dawn was asking it. Dawn had fallen asleep while she was gone, and Xander and Giles were sitting in her living room, and had not awakened since then – so she had no way of knowing about all that had happened between Buffy, Angel, and Xander when Buffy had gotten home.

But – there was still a question in Buffy’s mind, as she looked up at her younger but taller sister again.

“Why *were* you going to say Xander?”

Dawn looked down again, suddenly self-conscious. “I – I don’t know, really. I – I had a dream…I mean…I *thought* it was a dream…I thought it *had* to be a dream…” She found herself stumbling over the words, words that she really did not want to allow to come out – because once she had voiced the terrible things in her head – didn’t that make them real?

And what she was thinking *couldn’t* be real – could it?

“What was it?” Buffy pressed her, visibly steeling herself to hear what her sister had to say – no more eager to hear it than Dawn was to say it. “What was your dream?”

“It was – so vivid. One of those dreams that you think is real while it’s happening – like *really* real – I don’t know…maybe it *was*…”

“Just tell me,” Buffy cut her off, her voice shaking dangerously, her eyes glittering with tears that took her by surprise, and that she could not explain.

She had a terrified, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach – as if her subconscious already knew what she was still avoiding consciously accepting…that her entire world was about to be tilted on its axis and spun into disorder.

“Well – I dreamed that – Xander came into the room while I was sleeping, only – only it wasn’t Xander,” Dawn shook her head, frowning in dismay as she remembered. “It *couldn’t* have been…he was so – so *mean*, Buffy – so – threatening…he made Spike go to him, and he – he hurt him – I know because in my dream – I heard Spike make this – this awful sound, like he was – hurt – and then – they were both gone…that’s all…it was – it was just a dream…I know it was just a dream…”

When Dawn looked back at her sister, her own eyes were welling with tears, desperate, seeking for some reassurance, a refuting of her fears, as she whispered shakily, “It *was* just a dream – wasn’t it?”

“It had to be,” Buffy whispered – but the response was clearly automatic. “It could have just been because of the way Spike reacted to Xander last night before you went to sleep. Except…”

“Except what?” Dawn prompted her, breathless with her dread of hearing the rest of the statement.

“Xander told me he’d run into Angel last night – and that’s why Spike freaked out when he saw him – except…when I got to Angel’s…he – he got me thinking…” Buffy hesitated before adding slowly, “Angel thinks Xander did it. He thinks he shot Spike.”

Dawn swallowed hard, visibly forcing herself to consider the possibility that was so very repugnant to her. “Which – would explain Spike’s reaction to Xander…”

Buffy nodded slowly. “And then – when we got back here – Angel said he could – smell Spike all over Xander. Like Xander’d been around him recently. I didn’t believe him – I made them both leave…but…when I came up to check on Spike…he was totally freaked, still…not asleep. And – the wound on his head had re-opened.”

“And there’s blood on my wall,” Dawn observed, her voice low and troubled. “As if someone – took him in there – and hurt him…”

“He said no one hurt him. He said he *did* see Xander – he said he was having a nightmare – but no one – actually hurt him.”

Dawn grasped at that eagerly, desperately wanting some reason to doubt the terrible theory taking shape in both of their minds. “Well, if he said no one…”

“I think he lied.”

Dawn was silent for a long moment. Finally, she sighed deeply and replied, “Yeah. Like if someone *did* hurt him, he’d actually tell us. If they went to all the trouble to hurt him -- *whoever* it was – they’d certainly do their best to be sure he wasn’t gonna tell anyone.”

“He was scared to death last night, Dawnie,” Buffy told her, her voice soft and heavy with sorrow. “And this morning.”

“Buffy – do you really think - *Xander*…”

“I hope not, Dawnie. I really hope not. But – we really can’t be totally sure, can we?” Buffy finally admitted – and just that relatively small admission was incredibly difficult for her. “I mean – Xander never really liked Spike…”

“Yeah,” Dawn agreed, a slight note of anger beginning in her voice, her eyes narrowing, sending the tears in her eyes rolling down her face. “And I mean – Spike’s just a vampire, right? As far as Xander’s concerned, a non-person – right? Why would he have any problem hurting him?”

Bothered by the bitter sound of her voice, Buffy frowned, reminding her cautiously, “We don’t know for sure, Dawnie. I asked Spike specifically if Xander hurt him – and he said no. I mean – it’s possible he lied, but – we just – have to consider it,” she sighed. “I don’t want to – but we have to.”

“So – what do we do?” Dawn asked, her voice softening as she looked to her older sister for direction, the situation seeming just far too much for her to deal with on her own. “I mean – if Xander *didn’t* do it…he’s our friend, Buffy…but…if he did…”

“We just have to be careful,” Buffy said softly. “Not let him around Spike alone for a while – at least until we know for sure…”

Dawn nodded. “And we have to figure out who did it as soon as we can. So – if it’s *not* Xander – we can stop worrying about it.”

“Right,” Buffy nodded. “But until then – we don’t need to leave Spike alone with *anyone*. If Xander’s a suspect…” She shook her head, her eyes wide with the horror of even attempting to accept that idea, “…then *everyone’s* a suspect, Dawn.”

Dawn nodded her agreement to that plan, relief in her eyes. “Good. That way at least we know he’s safe.”

A silent moment passed between them, before Dawn’s brow creased in a frown, and she quirked a brow at her sister. “Um – Buffy – in that case – shouldn’t someone be with him right *now*?”

“Well,” Buffy thought for a moment. “When it’s just us in the house, I think sometimes he’s going to need a little space, you know? I mean – he’s going through a lot of stuff we don’t necessarily understand, Dawnie -- *he* probably doesn’t even understand it – and he’s gonna need some just-Spike-time to work through it sometimes…but when anybody else is in this house…or we’re out somewhere…we can never leave him alone…”

Dawn nodded her silent acceptance.

“Still,” Buffy added with a slightly sheepish smile, “he’s probably getting hungry. Let’s go get Spike, and go have breakfast.”

******************************
In the end, Dawn went downstairs to finish preparing breakfast, while Buffy made her way into the bedroom to talk to Spike.

He immediately knew by the look on her face that she *knew*.

His eyes widened in panic and he shook his head as he instinctively backed away from her, fearful of her reaction to his lie – and Xander’s reaction to the revealed truth. “Please,” he whispered tremulously. “Please, Buffy – sorry…”

“Spike,” Buffy said gently but firmly, moving swiftly across the room and onto the bed, taking him by the arms before he could withdraw too far – wanting to head off his fear before it could really begin. “It’s okay – I’m not mad at you – it’s okay, Spike…”

“Sorry,” he repeated, shaking his head, his eyes closed in denial of the situation, though he did not try to pull away from her – perhaps he did not dare. “Sorry…”

“Spike – you have nothing to be sorry for,” Buffy reassured him. “Look at me, Spike.”

He winced slightly, obviously not wanting to obey – though he could do nothing else.

But – all he saw in her expression was compassion.

“I know somebody hurt you last night,” she informed him softly, holding his gaze and not letting go. “Don’t try to tell me they didn’t – because I *know*…”

Spike’s shaking intensified, and he *did* try to pull away, his eyes averted in a panicked attempt to keep her from seeing the truth – though his sinking heart already knew that she was telling the truth.

“What I don’t know,” Buffy went on cautiously, gently, leaning back against the headboard and putting her arm around him, trying to get him to relax a little, “is who.” Despite the immediate tension she felt in his body, the instinctive resistance against her arm around him, Buffy just held onto him, turning his face back toward her with her free hand, as she asked him plainly, “Who hurt you, Spike?”

He shook his head emphatically, his eyes pleading with her as he whispered, “No one – no one hurt…no…please…Buffy, please, no…” Unable to pull away from her gently restraining arms, seeing the unyielding expression in her eyes that told him she was not believing him at all – Spike completely broke down. “Please, Buffy – please no…” he sobbed, shaking his head as he bowed it between them, unable to look at her.

“Shh,” she whispered, soothing him as she relented with a pang of guilt for pushing him at all. “It’s okay – I know you’re scared, Spike – and of course you are. Whoever hurt you did it again last night – right here in my house – after I’d promised to protect you. I’m so sorry, Spike…”

He shook his head slowly, a desperate ache in his chest – utterly beyond words.

“I won’t make you tell me, Spike,” she assured him gently. “I won’t make you do anything you’re scared to do – I just want you to know that from now on – you *will* be safe. I promise…look at me, Sweetie…”

He allowed her to tilt his chin up to look at her, though his eyes were full of fear and shame.

“I don’t know who did this – and you don’t wanna tell me – so until I *do* know – I’m not going to let anybody be alone with you, Spike. *No one*. Just me and Dawnie – how does that sound?”

Spike’s eyes widened with surprise – shining with a sudden spark of hope, as he realized what she was saying.

“Does that sound good?” she asked him, tenderly running the backs of her fingertips down his tear-streaked face.

He hesitated just a moment, thinking about it, before a small, hesitant smile rose to his lips – and he nodded eagerly. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, please, Buffy…yes…”

“Okay,” she decided with a nod. “If it’s just us – then we *know* no one can hurt you. That’s it. You’re safe – okay?”

Spike nodded again, inexplicably breaking down for the second time. But this time, as he let his tears flow, resting his head on Buffy’s shoulder, allowing her to hold him and soothe away his fears – his tears were tears of joy and relief.

“Now,” Buffy said at last, pulling back and smiling warmly into his eyes. “Let’s go get something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving!”