Two vamps, a girl, and a prophecy

Summary: What happens to Spike (and Angel) after ‘Not Fade Away.’
Rating: NC-17 Explicit sexual descriptions (later on), some language.
Pairings: Dawn/Spike, with a small side of Buffy/Xander.
Feedback: Yes, please. This is my first time posting a fic, so be gentle!
Archive? : Ask me first.
Beta: I need one!
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em. I’m just borrowing them for a while since Joss isn’t using them anymore.

Chapter 19

The crushing, vice-like pain in her head was the first thing Dawn became aware of. She groaned weakly and raised an extraordinarily heavy arm to her head. To her disgust, her hair was stringy, rather greasy, and plastered to her forehead. “What the hell?” She muttered, prying her eyes open to look around. Judging from the skull splitting headache, she half expected to find herself in a hospital bed, but was greatly relieved to see that she was in her own room, in her own comfortable bed. She tried to prop herself up, but found she was too weak to lift her head from the pillows. “God, what happened?”

The ceiling stubbornly refused to answer, so she turned her head to the left, toward her windows, half expecting to see a huge, black, demonic bull lying on the lounge. “Skip!” Everything came back to her suddenly, and she turned her head to the right, fully expecting Spike to be in the bed with her. She’d seen his body healing itself before she’d blacked out. He had to be okay. When she saw nothing but empty space beside her, she let out a choked, panicked sob. “No.” She whimpered softly. “Please, no! God, let him be alright! Please!” Her vision blurred as she began to sob helplessly.

“Dawn? Are you okay?” She heard Faith’s voice from the doorway, then hesitant footsteps moving toward the bed. “I should have known you’d finally decide to wake up when everyone else was out.” The older girl muttered, but Dawn could hear the relief in her voice. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything? Dawnie? Talk to me, girl. I don’t know what to do!”

“M-my head,” Dawn finally managed to stop crying and control her breathing enough to answer. “What happened to my head? Did somebody hit me?”

“You don’t remember what happened?” Faith came into view, sitting down on the empty side of the bed. “You saved Spike!”

“I did?!” Dawn tried to sit up again in her excitement, but was still helpless to move. “He’s okay?”

“Yeah, girlie. You fixed him up as good as new. Unfortunately, he’s still completely obnoxious. He’s been driving us all nuts.” Faith snorted scornfully.

“That’s the second time someone’s said that to me today.” Dawn chuckled softly.

“I doubt that, unless you really could hear what everyone’s been saying to you all this time.” Faith said dubiously. “Spike and Buffy both swore you could, but the rest of us weren’t so sure.”

“How long have I been out?” Dawn tried one last time and managed to prop herself up on her elbows as she waited for the nervous looking slayer to respond.

“Umm, maybe I should go call your sis,” Faith jerked her thumb toward the door. “Or…you know, Spike should be back any minute. Angel dragged him out to buy blood. Poor guy, it’s the first time he’s left your side in wee-uh…in a long time, and you actually woke up!”

“Weeks? Were you going to say weeks?!” Dawn shrieked, then grabbed her head as a fresh bolt of pain shot through her skull.

“Dammit! I knew better than to leave her alone with you!” A familiar, and very welcome, voice yelled from the hallway. “Got her all upset…”

“Spike!” Faith jumped nervously, spinning around to face the blond, who was now standing in the doorway, glaring at her. “You’re back!”

Spike ignored her completely and was at Dawn’s side, hugging her tightly and kissing her forehead, in a heartbeat. One touch of his cool skin against her face confirmed that it was not his own. “Are you okay, baby? We’ve been so worried about you, luv!”

“I was going to say the same thing about you,” Dawn joked weakly, letting herself go limp in his arms. She looked him over thoroughly and was happy to see that he seemed to be back to his usual self. His face and arms had filled out a bit since she’d last seen him, and she could tell that his torso was as sleek and well muscled as always. “You look great!” She declared at last.

“I’m fine, luv, thanks to you,” Spike grinned, pulling away slightly to study her in turn. He smiled warmly at her after gazing at her for several seconds. “Oh, Dawn, you look so...”

“What?” Dawn asked self consciously, reaching up to touch her dirty hair again. “I know I look horrible. Apparently I’ve been in some kind of coma for God knows how long.” She scoffed, looking at him embarrassedly.

“You could never look horrible,” Spike murmured, kissing her softly. “I just like looking at you. It’s about time you finally woke up. Do you know how worried everyone has been? If you didn’t wake up soon, I was going to try slapping you around.” He winked.

“How long?” Dawn asked impatiently, although she nearly purred with contentment when he slipped onto the bed behind her and pulled her back to rest against his chest. She struggled to pull her feet up and twisted so she could still see his face, loathe to take her eyes off him.

“Oh, only a minute or two…however long it took,” Spike winked again before taking pity on her. Growing more serious, he held her tighter and replied, “You were out for nearly a month, Dawn.”

“What?!” Dawn shrieked, then groaned and held her head again. This time the pain wasn’t quite as intense, and quickly faded to a dull roar. Suddenly, Faith shoved a glass of water and a couple of small white pills in her face. Dawn hadn’t even noticed that she’d left the room.

“Tylenol 3. The good stuff. Codeine,” The slayer mumbled, waving her hand for Dawn to take them.

“No,” Dawn shook her head. “That stuff knocks me out, and I don’t think I want to sleep anymore.”

“Althenea told us your head might feel like you ran it through a paper shredder if…uh…when you woke up.” Faith insisted stubbornly, pressing the pills into Dawn’s hand. “Take ‘em, or I’ll just make you.” She ordered, her free hand on her hip and her head cocked to the side challengingly.

Dawn looked pleadingly at Spike, who shook his head and held up a hand defensively. “Don’t look at me for help. I’d make you take three if it were up to me.”

Dawn pouted, but allowed Spike to prop her up more so she could swallow the pills. As soon as the water hit her throat, she realized how parched she was, and started gulping it eagerly. “Oh, no you don’t! Not too much!” Faith ordered, snatching the glass from her hand.

“What are you? Some kind of water Nazi?” Dawn grumbled, reaching for the glass, but Faith stubbornly stepped out of her reach. “You have the bedside manner of an alarm clock.”

Faith rolled her eyes and snorted. “Dr. Wilcox said if…when you woke up not to let you eat or drink too much, too fast. You’ve been living off an IV for so long, your stomach probably won’t be able to handle much at first.” She shrugged. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t puke, ‘cuz I don’t see Spikey or Angel cleaning it up.”

“‘If I woke up?’” Dawn repeated angrily, noticing for the first time that there was, indeed, an IV in her left arm, attached to two clear bags hanging from a pole beside her bed. “That’s twice you’ve said that now. Everyone gave up on me, didn’t they?” She glared accusingly at them.

Faith looked down at the floor, guilt written all over her face, but Spike’s eyes blazed angrily. “I never gave up on you! I knew you’d come back to me.” He grabbed her head in his hands and kissed her briefly, but passionately, on the lips. “If I thought you weren’t going to wake up, I would have walked out into the next sunrise, and you know it!” He growled emphatically. After this declaration, he immediately captured her lips again, stroking and teasing her tongue with his own until she was moaning breathlessly.

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Faith muttered in the background. “I’ll just go call the doctor and the little mama. Maybe I’ll even make you some soup or something, Dawnie. But I’m not cleaning up if you hurl. You’ll just have to wait until Nurse Hatchet comes back. Speaking of lousy bedside manners…” She muttered to herself as she scurried quickly toward the door, and when Dawn pulled away from Spike to breath, she noticed Angel lurking in the hallway just outside the room.

When Angel saw her looking at him, he started guiltily and ducked his head, then slowly shuffled into the room. “Hey, Dawn. You’re awake.” He smiled sheepishly. “I guess you know that.”

“Yeah, she figured it out already, you git.” Spike snorted, gently rubbing Dawn’s shoulders. “Wouldn’t be the first time she caught on to something long before it could penetrate that thick skull of yours.” He added with a playful smirk.

“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?” Angel asked the younger vampire exasperatedly. “Yes, I was wrong! How was I supposed to know that the Key was some kind of living entity and technically the oldest one here.” When Dawn and Spike both snickered, he exclaimed. “Hey, Giles and Willow got it wrong too!” Suddenly, his face grew grim, and he stared down at the floor again. “I’m really, really sorry about the Mohra.” He mumbled.

“It’s not your fault,” Spike said softly. “Everyone thought…”

“Dawn didn’t. Somehow she figured out just what to do,” Angel smiled warmly at Dawn, and she blushed heavily.

“Don’t feel bad, Angel. My fairy god-demon pretty much had to spell it out for me,” Dawn admitted sheepishly, glancing absently at the lounge again.

“Your who did what?” Spike asked, frowning thoughtfully.

“This demon-y looking guy showed up here and told me I was the only one who could save you,” Dawn reached around and cupped Spike’s cheek in her hand. “Actually, I dreamed about him before he actually came here. He even showed me a preview of myself with your…your guts in my hands…” She shuddered at the memory.

“‘Demon-y looking guy?’” Angel repeated, looking stunned. “A demon told you to hack Spike to pieces, and you just went ahead, and got a knife, and…”

“Well, I did get the knife, but I didn’t do the actual…hacking,” Dawn explained meekly. “It was the Key.”

“You’re the Key. We found you with blood all over you and bits of…” Angel pointed out incredulously. Dawn moaned softly and cuddled closer to Spike, trying to reassure herself that she hadn’t been as stupid as it all sounded out loud; he had come through unscathed.

“Shut up, you git!” Spike growled at Angel, shifting into game face for a moment as he wrapped his arms around her more tightly. “It doesn’t matter how she figured it out. It worked didn’t it? A hell of a lot better than your plan!”

Angel wilted visibly, and Dawn grew suspicious. “What went wrong with your plan? I mean, other than the fact that it wouldn’t have worked.” She couldn’t resist the urge to take another jab at Angel after he’d been so arrogant about his plan, and she felt a small thrill of satisfaction when he lowered his head shamefacedly. “Obviously neither of you got any of its blood on you. Did it hurt someone?”

“No, no, the demon didn’t hurt anyone. Faith heard what you said before you passed out, and when she saw that Spike was already healed, she realized you knew what you were talking about and pushed me away from it before I got any blood on me. She, Buffy and Xander managed to drag it outside, and it ran away. We haven’t seen or heard from it since.” Angel shrugged, looking extremely uncomfortable. “That Faith’s a pretty smart girl.” He added, looking sideways at the doorway.

“In most respects,” Spike muttered under his breath, but loudly enough for both Dawn and Angel to hear. Dawn looked at Angel curiously, but he just smirked at Spike, looking even more smug than usual. She never would have guessed it was possible.

“Spike, what happened?” Dawn turned to him, knowing she’d never get any useful information from Angel if he was in evasive mode, which he seemed to be; with a healthy dose of just plain weird, to boot.

Spike sighed mournfully and lowered his head to her shoulder for a moment. Dawn waited impatiently and finally nudged him gently with her elbow when she couldn’t stand the suspense anymore. When he finally met her eyes, he said, “It’s Willow, pet.”

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I don't know why, but my my muse seems to have something against Willow in this one. I'm starting to worry...I actually really like Willow! I'll just apologize in advance for whatever she has planned for her. I'm not sure yet, but I have a feeling it's not going to be pretty. Not that the muse is ever wrong, of course!