Family of Eternity

Chapter 9

Spike had been at the Summer’s residence for a month before he started to venture outside. It was never far, usually just to the end of the back porch so he could smoke without having to listen to Buffy bitch at him about it. He knew one of the girls was always there, usually just at the window by the kitchen. That way he could feel them watching out for him without being obtrusive.

Buffy had been amazingly gentle to him throughout the entire time, though she seemed to hug him less and less. Then she stopped petting him and eventually stopped hanging around the house. She never missed her shifts to keep him company but he was starting to get the message. She’d be kicking him out soon, as soon as she thought he was ready whether he really was or not. He still couldn’t shake the nightmares but he forced himself to grow a pair and stop talking about it. Whenever questioned about them he’d put on his snarky front and shrug it off, reassuring them that he was fine now. It was a lie but the only one that had ever been able to tell wasn’t really interested in him anymore.

It was now the second month. This time he was sitting on the front porch as Joyce slowly got out of the car with a few groceries. Ignoring the sudden feeling of panic, he carefully walked down the steps and slowly over to her, “Let me get those, mum.”

She smiled radiantly at him, handing him the bags. She carefully ruffled his hair and he smiled shyly at her. As he took them he glanced at her shaking hands. He frowned to himself as he let her precede him into the house, he close on her heels. She’d been so weak lately it had been worrying him. Just from her scent he knew something was wrong with her but he couldn’t tell what.

Willow and Dawn looked up as they entered, matching happy smiles on their faces. Dawn even more so than the witch. She could remember quite clearly being kidnaped by some demons. They wanted a virgin sacrifice to open the Hellmouth or something like that. It had been the only time Spike had ventured out on his own, tracking her down and bringing her home. He’d been her hero and secret crush ever since. Buffy’s voice complained from the second story of the house, “Mom, will you tell your daughter to pick up the bathroom?”

Joyce glanced tiredly at her younger daughter who shrugged her delicate shoulders, “Not my mess.”

Willow from her position on the sofa raised an eyebrow, “It’s not your mess, Dawnie?”

The preteen shrugged again while Spike got a wicked smile on his face. He forced himself to act like his old self would, even though he’d never do what he was about to threaten, “So then I guess you wouldn’t object if I went upstairs and had a peak at the embarrassing things that have to litter the floor. Then of course I could sell it to my demon friends...”

It’s not like he had demon friends but the younger Summers didn’t have to know that. Dawn pouted, which didn’t do a thing for her before grumbling as she got up and walked past the adults. She lightly punched Spike’s arm as she passed. She knew to be careful with the vampire since he still tended to be shy of physical
contact, “Not fair, Porcupine.”

Spike rolled his eyes, “Stop calling me that, Nibblet.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, very mature for a twelve year old. He snorted and took the groceries the rest of the way into the kitchen. Joyce followed him this time. As he set the bags down, he started digging in them, pulling out milk and eggs and other human foods. Every time she went to pull something out she was met with a growl until she got the idea and sat down. He finished putting everything up and made tea for her, telling her to sip it all the while glaring at her. With a soft sigh Joyce lowered the cup, “Spike, I am a grown woman...”

His voice was clipped, “Correction, you are a grown mother of two...” He looked down shyly, “Maybe three...” She smiled softly at the implied compliment that he thought of her as his mom, “Who should know better. Didn’t that git at the hospital say not to do anything until the results came back?”

This was a fight they’d had quite often lately. No one knew there was anything wrong with her. Only Spike had picked up her not so healthy vibes and called her on it. At the time she hadn’t been sure she should have told him anything but now she was glad she had. Spike had been wonderfully supportive, turning the roles of the house around so that now he was looking out for her instead of the other way around. “Yes, he had but the results already came back. Nothing I do could effect me negatively.”

His eyes only narrowed, “Meaning what, exactly?”

“Meaning in two days I’m scheduled for surgery.”

Spike lost what little color on his face he had. Swallowing, “What kind of surgery?”

Joyce put out a hand and lightly squeezed his own. She knew he would be just as worried as her own daughters. It comforted her to know that even if something happened he’d take care of them, “They found a tumor somewhere in my brain.”

“No...” Both turned around to see Buffy in the doorway, a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes, “No
there...there has to be some mistake.”

Joyce smiled a little, quickly walking over to her daughter, “I wish it was. But thanks to Spike they caught it early.”

Her green eyes shifted to him, “You knew? You knew something was wrong and you didn’t tell me?” In the heat of passion she stalked towards him aggressively, her hands swinging wildly and one balling into a fist, “You asshole! How could you keep this from me?”

“Buffy!” Joyce was glaring at her daughter. Her hand went to Spike who bolted into the basement, the door slamming shut behind him. She shifted her gaze back to her daughter, “He’s not ready for that kind of confrontation, Buffy! Of anyone in this house you should know that. And I never told him how serious it was.”

“But he could have told-...”

“I asked him not to.” Buffy’s mouth dropped open in surprise, “Buffy I had no idea what was wrong. I wasn’t even sure if there was anything. Besides, you have enough to worry about without my problems causing you more stress.” She pulled her quaking daughter into her arms, “It’ll be alright. They caught it in time...I promise...” Buffy felt silent tears fall down her cheeks, wrapping her arms around her mother and holding on. Joyce pulled back a little, cupping her cheeks in her palms, “I’ll be fine.” Buffy gave her a trembling smile and reluctantly let go.

Joyce didn’t say anything further as she walked to the door and slowly opened it. Darkness greeted her but she had grown used to it. There was a nightlight by the stairs, put there for her convenience and she used that as her guide. Descending down the steps slowly, she softly called the vampire’s name. A pouting growl was her response and at the bottom step she snapped on the corner lamp. She turned around to see Spike in his easy chair, the only thing of his crypt he’d wanted. He was smoking a cigarette and glaring at the far wall. There was a hint of moisture on his cheeks, his eyes blinking rapidly. Walking over to him, she sat on the small bench adjacent to him, “Spike?”

He sighed softly, putting out his smoke. His head was lowered, hand wiping over his face, “I’m fine. No need to worry about me running off or anything.” He grunted a snicker, laughing at himself more than anything.
Without saying a word she took his wrist and tugged him forward very carefully. He went without question until he was knelt in front of her, his curious eyes looking into her own. She pulled him to her in a strong hug, smiling when he hummed happily and carefully wrapped his own arms around her waist. He’d missed this. No one but Joyce still hugged him and he desperately wanted it. He wished Buffy would start again but it was obvious to him she’d grown weary of her protector role. Not that he blamed her. He was tired of needing protection. He missed his old self but over the course of this he’d found that he couldn’t find him any more.

Joyce was surprised at how much he loved to touch and be touched. She had a feeling it had to do with his vampiric state. Tactile awareness is very important to vampires, according to the books she’d read. In many ways they were pack animals, choosing to remain in large groups and interacting amongst each other. She’d gotten the distinct feeling from what she read that at the very least they slept in pairs and more probably that several groups shared spaces. It was for this reason that she did her best to incorporate touching into her dealings with him. It’s also why she checked over him nightly, being sure to pet away the nightmares she could see still plagued him.

For he had no one. With the chip in his head he could no longer join a group of vampires and was forced to find another way to feel safe and happy. So, he’d searched out a group of humans and struggled to incorporate himself amongst them. In the past it hadn’t worked but Joyce had already vowed that if the Scoobies wouldn’t take him in, that she would.

Buffy watched all of this from the safety of the darkness. She really felt bad about yelling at him, knowing he had come a long way since his attack. Everyone knew he wasn’t even close to old Spike. It was a fact that made her happy and sad. Happy that this compassionate stranger had taken Spike’s place and sad that his cocky, carefree attitude might never return.

She watched his face, shocked at the blissful expression. Yet another thing to beat herself up about. When he’d freaked earlier about being touched most of them had stopped trying. She’d forgotten how hands on he was, especially around her.

Silently descending the steps, she stopped at the bottom, “I’m sorry.”

Both glanced at her, her mother with disapproval etched on her face and Spike with accusatory anger. He snorted as he pulled himself free and retreated to his bed. He sat down right next to Mr. Gordo in fact, a finger rubbing the soft material. He’d commandeered the stuffed animal when they’d moved him down here and she hadn’t had the heart to take it back. She looked to her mother who nodded, “Say no more.”

Without further comment Joyce retreated up the stairs, the door closing softly behind her. Buffy felt a frown form as she went after him, “I really am-...”

“I don’t bloody care.”

That one stung. He was always hypersensitive to what she had to say. To have him brush it off was a little damaging to her pride. She also knew where his anger was coming from. She hadn’t been with him as much as she could have. It wasn’t that her feelings had gone away. Nope, in fact her lust had become full blown passion the longer she was near the sexy blond. That was why she’d been withdrawing. She was afraid of taking advantage of him. She wanted him completely well and willing to be loved. It hadn’t occurred to her that he would have noticed but he had, “Spike...”

“Nope. Not going to make you feel better so you can take off with a clear conscience.”

Shock flashed across her face, feeling a pang that she held that same fear, “Is that what you think? You think I’ve spent time with you because of guilt?”

He shrugged a little, looking away, “Might be another reason but it’s not really because you’d want to. Guilt. Obligation. Pity. Whatever it is, it’s not because it’s me.”

Anger slowly replaced her other emotions, “Now look-...”

Spike shot to his feet, vamped, “Go to hell. Do whatever the hell you want but leave me bloody alone!”

He may have been aggressive but the tight hold he had on her comforter behind his back betrayed his true motivation. Her anger dissipated just as quickly as it started with a forced sigh. She now recognized his defense mechanism. The theory behind it being that if no one could get past it then he couldn’t get hurt. Moving forward with small steps to not startle him, “No. I’m not going to go away and I won’t leave you alone. I’ve been busy but you’ve also been avoiding me.”

At least she hoped he‘d been aware of his own withdrawal. The look on his face showed that he conceded that part, “Maybe…but I don’t want your pity.”

The last word was spat at her, his fangs bared, “It’s not pity I’m offering. I want to help you because I like you. I want to try to give you friendship and...and...”

“And what?!”

She smiled a little, her heart quivering. This was the not so easy part for her, “Love.”

He backpedaled quickly into the wall, nothing but shock left as his demon features disappeared, “W-what?”

Buffy was really nervous now but she pushed it aside. The wall of emotional protection that she put around herself wouldn‘t help reach him, “Friendship. Family. Love. There’s a lot I want I just need a little time to sort it out. You do, too. But if you’ll accept it, I’ll give it.” She gave him a few moments but received no reply, “Well, now that I’ve made a complete fool of-...”

He came forward and engulfed her in an excited hug. No pretense. Just happiness that she would accept him as one of her own. Buffy felt a layer of her own defenses disappear in his strong grip. Her head fell to his shoulder, allowing his scent to overwhelm her. There was a hint of smoke, a subtle feeling of coolness...and cinnamon. She blinked, startled and pressed her nose closer. Smiling as the spicy/sweet scent surrounded her, she started her exploration almost unconsciously.

Spike stilled, his eyes growing as the girl in his arms started to wiggle around, her nose pressed to his clothing. His eyes rolled back into his head as her mouth grazed over his neck. It was but a whisper of a touch but it was almost too much, certainly more than he’d allowed himself to ever hope for. For a vampire the neck was the most sensitive and sensuous area of their body and she’d just touched it, however fleeting.

She pulled her head back and their eyes locked. For that one moment, she was staring into the fathomless pools of his eyes. And she swore she saw something. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. If that were so, then the man before her was no demon. Well, still a demon but a souled one. His gaze shifted between her eyes and her lips, wanting to dare but too scared to try. A slow smile of feminine pride flittered across her face and it was all the invitation he needed. Like a striking snake his head snapped to hers, lips
colliding and hands moving.