Borrowed Heaven

************A/N***************
This story is a songfic based on an entire CD, "Borrowed Heaven" by the Corrs. It begins between seasons 5 and 6 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer as a friendship fic between Spike and Dawn, but will eventually be an R-rated Spuffy.
All song lyrics and titles belong to the Corrs unless otherwise noted.
The quote in the first few paragraphs is paraphrased from "Something Blue."
All characters are by Joss Whedon. I do not own them, and, though it is glaringly obvious (or should be so to anyone over the age of three), I do not make any money by writing this.
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Borrowed Heaven
Chapter One:
Goodbye
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I never thought one day you’d be gone away forever more
No one can say, no one could explain why you were taken
Oh where are you now?
Could I get there somehow?
It’s time to say goodbye
Block out the sun and pack up the sky
Don’t let my tears start to make you cry
Each time I try to say my goodbye
Try to stop asking why
Tell me it’s true, tell me there’s something more
Another time for love
One day I’ll know, one day I’ll be there
Will you be waiting?
Oh where you are now?
Could I get there somehow?
It’s time to say goodbye
Block out the sun and pack up the sky
Don’t let my tears start to make you cry
Each time I try to say my goodbye
Try to stop asking why
Try to stop asking why
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The funeral had been held during the day, so naturally Spike had not been able to attend. If it had just been for her, he would have ventured out. If it had just been for her he would have risked it and hidden under a blanket.
Hell, he would have gladly stood in the brilliant noonday sun, burning slowly and torturously for Buffy’s sake.

But it was not just for Buffy, not anymore.

He had promised her he would watch over and protect Dawn from anything and everything, and he couldn’t exactly do that if he was quite literally blowing in the wind. Despite his utter disinterest in staying in a Buffy-less Sunnydale, he knew he would never break a promise he had made her.

But still, he couldn't fight the nagging inside his head. He should have gone. He could have risked it…

"The leaves are blown aside by a crisp spring breeze and again, you’re registering as Mr. and Mrs. Big Pile of Dust."

Memories of Buffy flooded his consciousness as he gazed out the dirty, distorted windows of his crypt. He sat far enough away that the sunlight did not touch him but close enough that he could see vague shapes as they passed. Not that he could have seen anything clearly, anyway; the glass in the windows was warped and distorted from age and heat of many summers past. And he knew he would not be able to see her from here. Buffy was being buried on the complete opposite end of the cemetery, where all the new graves were. No one had been buried in Spike’s area for at least the last century, and the plots all around him were full. No, Buffy was being buried nowhere near where he could see, but that did not stop him from watching out the windows on the south side of the crypt, the general direction of Buffy’s grave.
Buffy’s grave.

He still couldn’t believe it.

Buffy.

Slayer.

Pet.

Gone.

For so many years he’d thought her immortal, unstoppable. Honestly, if a vampire as formidable as he could not kill her, then she must be damn near indestructible.
But in the end neither superpowers nor Slayer training had been able to save her. Falling from a hundred foot tall tower would have killed anyone, even if she happened to be the Slayer. Part of Spike wanted so badly to be mad at her for her death, for choosing to die, but no matter how he tried to convince himself he couldn’t. She’d stopped an apocalypse and, probably more prevalent in her mind, saved her sister’s life. Spike wasn’t sure he understood the closeness between the Slayer and her sister. After all, Dawn hadn’t even existed a year ago, but Buffy had been able to look beyond that. She had been able to see her sister, no questions, debates, or arguments, and she had not only given her life for Dawn, she’d cared enough to make sure she’d appointed her sister a protector in case something did happen to her. Made Spike think she may have known what she had to do all along.

Cursing the sunlight, Spike kicked a chair across the length of the crypt and began to pace. After everything, after declaring his love for her, after fighting alongside her, after promising to protect Dawn with his life if necessary, he couldn’t even be there to see Buffy laid to rest.

And God, he how he hoped she would finally get some rest. He remembered it vaguely, being dead. Drusilla had given him enough blood to ensure that his change was swift, but in the fleeting moments before his awakening, he knew he had been happy and at peace, and those were two things William the Bloody had never been while he was alive. Yet until he had met Buffy, he had never considered that he might have been better off dead than undead. Honestly, for a while after he met her he had only known that he would have been better off if SHE had been dead, but after the chip in his head made him reconsider everything in his life- his very existence and purpose, he had quite different views on vampirism. Sure, if his chip was removed he would probably go on a mad rampage, but that didn’t mean that looking at it now with a clear head he would ever think it was right.

But just as William had always been an anomaly among men, Spike had always been an anomaly among vampires.

A large shadow passed in front of his window, and Spike gazed up with a sudden excitement. Whatever had cast the shadow had approached from the direction Buffy always came from. Chastising himself for his moment of impossible hope, Spike once again hung his head. Never, never would he be anxious to see them- any of them, but today he wished desperately that they would come. Any of them, really. Preferably Red and her girlfriend, but at this point, he’d even like to see that arse Xander and Anya. But he was sure none of them would even think of him today. Why should they? He had always just been a hanger-on to them. None of them would ever think of the pain he would be going through- none of them even believed he really loved the Slayer, none of them would probably acknowledge him at all after this. The only one who’d ever really approved of his help was Buffy herself.

Calming, Spike figured it was only a large bird which had cast the shadow. No, none of her precious Scoobies would be coming to offer their condolences, and he had not been invited back to the Summers residence, either. He wondered briefly on Dawn but knew she was in good hands, though he grudgingly admitted that fact. Willow would take care of her for now. After all, in this time, Dawn should be with someone who she really loved.

Pacing once again, Spike’s back was turned when the door was opened, but he felt the sudden heat of sunlight engulfing him, and he jumped out of the way as the edge of his jacket began to sizzle.

"Spike?"

Turning quickly on his heel, Spike was amazed at the sight in front of him.

"Niblet?"

At the use of one of her many Spike-given nicknames, Dawn slammed the door closed and ran to him, flinging herself into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist tightly, and almost immediately after the contact, Spike could feel his shirt dampen beneath her tear-stained face.

"Bit, what’cha doin’ here?" Spike asked, sounding rather more lovingly than a creature of the night should sound. Shocked by his affection, he cleared his throat and continued a bit more tersely. "You should be back at the homestead with Red and
Giles and… everyone."

"I can’t go there," she wailed, her arms still clamped around him. For as evil as he had been and could still be, Spike had always been a gentleman to the women he loved, and as an extension of Buffy, Dawn was included in that category. Gently, Spike began to smooth down her hair and return her fervent embrace. "I can’t go there and not have Mom and not have Buffy. I don’t have anything!"

"That’s not true. You’ve got your Scoobies. They’ll be there for you."

"No! They won’t! They’re not like they were when Mom died. They’re all so wrapped up in themselves and their grieving that it’s like I’m an afterthought!" As she sobbed, the girl grew more and more agitated, her face contorted in a mask of pain. Spike only held her tighter; he knew all too well what she was going through, having witnessed hundreds of mourning families back in his glory days. "I know that, okay, technically they knew her longer," Dawn continued, her tone going from angry to almost pleading, "but she was my sister, and even if they were fake, I have so many more memories of her than they do! Even if I'm fake, I loved her! She was my sister, and I love her! She can’t be gone, Spike! I can’t live without her!"

"Shh… Dawn," soothed Spike. "You’re not fake. You’re as human as anyone I know- bloody annoyingly so, if you ask me. And no matter how they got there, your memories of Buffy are real. You know they were real for her."

"She’s gone. Forever. She’s all I had left, and she’s gone! She can never yell at me for not doing my homework or be snotty about me borrowing her clothes or hang one of my report cards on the fridge ever again! She’s gone, and I have nothing!"
It had been a very long time since Spike had considered how death affected anyone other than the deceased. As a demon, he really could care less, but the man in him, only made more present in his consciousness by the chip, was shocked into silence at the thought of the hundreds and hundreds of people he'd left in a state just like Dawn's current one after he'd eaten their family members. How many people had he made cry? How many had he totally ruined in mourning? How many had been unable to carry on without the loved one he'd taken? He didn't feel remorse or regret over the answers to these questions- he would have needed a soul to feel anything like that- but merely a cold, calculated understanding. It had been over a hundred years since he'd even thought about any human emotions other than lust, jealously, and love.

Though to Spike, those three often were one and the same.

Shifting his focus back to the sobbing teenager in his arms, all that he had left of Buffy, he once again tried to comfort her.

"That’s not true, Dawn. I know it feels like that now, but there are so many people who love you and who would do anything for you. There are so many people who would give their life for you." But this only brought a great sob from Dawn who clung to the blonde vampire even more closely. "Okay, bad example, but, Bit, you know it’s true."

"No! They loved Buffy, not me!"

"And they love you ‘cause you’re part of Buffy. Believe me, this is hard on everyone. As much as I hate to admit it," he began, complete with a dramatic sigh, "it’s even hard for those damned Scoobies. Everyone grieves in their own way, Bit, and it’s like you said yourself- they’re all too wrapped up in their own hurt to think of anyone else right now. You can’t hold it against them. They still love you."

"No, they don’t. I know it. They’ll desert me before Buffy’s body’s even cold."

"Come on, they would never! Who takes better care of you than Red and the witch? Even when Buffy was here, who let you skip homework and eat dessert before dinner and risked Buffy’s wrath by letting you ‘accidentally’ borrow the book that could’ve brought your mum back? You know my feelings on that ponce Xander, but I know at least Willow and Tara won’t abandon you."

"No. No one’s here anymore. I’m alone. I have nothing. I have no one."
Sighing deeply, seriously, Spike responded.

"You’ve got me, Bit, and you always will."

Dawn gazed up at him then, love and respect evident in her every gesture. Truth be told, he’d always had more than a soft spot for the girl, and he knew she had her own little school girl crush on him. He truly loved the girl. No one understood her, and he remembered all too well how that felt from his mortal days.

In fact, pain was the only thing he really, truly remembered from his life.

Shrugging his shoulders, Spike disentangled himself from the girl and stepped back to regard her suspiciously.

"Do they at least know where you are? Can’t have them staking me on sight for ‘abducting’ you, can we?"

Dawn nodded.

"I told them I was coming here."

"Alright, Bit. You can stay as long as you like, but let’s go downstairs. It’s bloody bright in here."

Smiling slightly at the vampire, Dawn nodded again and began to make her way into the tunnel.

"Spike?" Dawn called, following him down the ladder to the main living area of Spike's crypt. "Why were you upstairs during the day anyway?"

Already on the floor, Spike gazed up at Dawn over the hand he held in front of his newly lit cigarette. Regarding her warily, the vampire took in a long drag from the cigarette and exhaled slowly, almost sadly.

"To tell the truth I was hoping to see something of big sis’ service." Dawn narrowed her eyes slightly, not in disbelief so much as in sadness. She knew that Spike had always liked her sister better than he'd liked her, and she genuinely felt sorry for him. Buffy's death couldn't have been any easier on him than it was on anyone else- soul or not. There was a silence then which bordered on discomfort, so Dawn said the first thing that came to her mind. Which, like most times Dawn said the first thing that came to her mind, was not the brightest idea.

"But she’s buried on the other side of the cemetery."

"I know," Spike whispered, barely loud enough for Dawn to hear. Moving to his side, she took one of his hands. It was shaking. The vampire tried to hide it by pretending he needed that hand to tend to his cigarette, but she knew well enough why he'd shied away. Spike was the Big Bad. He was not the kind to be upset over the death of a girl. A girl, coincidentally, whose job was to slay his kind. But he was upset just the same.

"No one cared. I tried to tell them, but none of them cared. You loved Buffy, too. They should have cared how you were today."

"Nah, Bit. Like you said before, they got their own mourning to do. They wouldn’t even think of me right now. Unless it was to stake me. They all bloody hate me." At this statement, the vampire threw what was left of his cigarette to the floor violently and began to pace. He didn't know why it bothered him that the Scoobies hated him; he hated them passionately.

"That’s not true," interjected Dawn, desperate to have Spike calm down. "You helped out so much!"

"They hate me, Dawn. Honestly, you’re the only one who ever showed me any friendship!" He stopped pacing as he made this proclamation, flinging his arms to the sides in a defeated sort of motion. She stood gazing at him for a couple of seconds before calmly walking to his side and taking his hand once again. This time he did not flinch or pull away, and Dawn was surprised but not shocked as she felt a tear fall from his eye onto her hand.

"Are… are you okay, Spike? I mean, I know you loved her, and I saw how shaken up you were after she… fell."

"I’m not okay, Little Bit, but I strongly suspect that no one is right about now. I’ll be fine eventually."

In a sort of defeated gesture, Dawn made her way to the edge of Spike's bed and slumped down. She was feeling rather whiny and petulant today- more so than normal- and she figured that today of all days she should be able to give in to her temptation to sulk. Besides, Spike would understand. Spike always understood.

"It’s not fair."

"Life’s not fair, Dawn."

"Life’s a breeze compared to death."

Taken aback by the teenager's accidental wisdom, Spike raised a speculative eyebrow and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah, you got a point there."

"Why, Spike?" questioned Dawn, now in full-blown sob mode. "I mean, is there a God or Powers that Be? And if there is, why would they take every single thing I’ve ever had?" Slinking to the bed and sitting beside Dawn, Spike placed a comforting arm around her and was rewarded with her tear-strewn face being buried into his neck.

"Yeah, you would think they’d spread it around a bit, wouldn’t you?"

" ‘God works in mysterious ways.’ How many times have I heard that this week? And it’s all from fat old women who have never had so much as a hamster die on them!"

" ‘God works in mysterious ways?’ Bollocks! God is straightforward. God laid down the rules a long time ago; it’s people and their bloody free will that fucks things up- screws- I mean, screws things up. Yeah, God or the Powers or whatever you want to call it decide when you’re gonna die, but sometimes their decision is pushed along by other factors. Your mum, for example, died naturally. That was all God’s doing, but Buffy didn’t. I’m sure it wasn’t really her time on the big itinerary up there, but jumping off a gigantic tower is a fact that even the big guy can’t ignore. Like vampire victims. Most of them are scheduled to have heart attacks or die of old age, but other forces step in. It’s not that God wants people to die, but He gives people free will, and if those people choose to do evil things and cause pain and suffering He doesn’t interfere."

"You know a lot about God for a vampire."

"Yeah, well, I’m a beast of hell, aren’t I? Any good warrior knows his enemy inside and out, yeah?"

"Really?"

"Well, yeah, and it might surprise you, but I was very religious when I was alive. Even considered becoming a priest for a while."

Shocked, Dawn rasied her head to look him in the eye. Spike, a priest? Somehow she could never picture it.

"You were that dedicated?" Spike scoffed bitterly.

"I was that celibate. Figured I might as well do it professionally."

"No way! Come on, Spike, you’re a major dude."

"I wasn’t then, Bit. In fact, I was only changed ‘cause Drusilla was the only woman beside my mother to ever pay attention to me."

"You’re lying!" It was all too much for Dawn who held Spike as the measure for all men to follow in her life. She loved a good bad boy, and at his best, Spike was the worst...

"You’re forgetting that I’ve had over a hundred years to become this cool. And peroxide wasn't around back then."

"Good point…" Dawn drifted off, her eyes glossing over with tears once again as her thoughts once again fled to her sister. "Spike? Do you think she… Do you think Buffy’s happy?"

"Yeah, Bit. Definitely," Spike responded, rubbing her back comfortingly. If any other demon ever saw him doing this... "She’s in a better place, and she’s up there with your mum and your goldfish and relatives she’s never even met. Probably all telling her how much she’s grown and pinching her cheeks right now."

"Really?"

"Absolutely, and she’ll be watching over you, kiddo."

But Dawn wasn't convinced.

"How do you know? How do you know it’s real?"

"Because I remember," whispered Spike, looking at the floor.

"But you’re a vampire. I thought vampires were damned."

"Vampires are, but when I died I was just plain old celibate, commandment-following William. William went to heaven. When I woke as a vampire that’s when my soul was lost and damned. One day when I’m finally dust, then I’ll go to a hell dimension. Then I’ll burn."

"Spike? What? No!"

"Don’t worry, Little Bit. I have a strong feeling that if big sis couldn’t take care of me, not a whole lot of people would be able to. I don’t plan on going for a long time. What’s the point of immortality if you only get to have it for a couple hundred years?"
Somewhat satisfied with this answer and uncomfortable with the thought of Spike's eventual, if far-off, death, Dawn decided to change the subject, tried to cheer him up.

"Buffy liked you, you know."

"It’s nice of you to say, but no, she didn’t."

"No, I know she did, Spike. I read her diary."

"What?"

"It’s in the Little Sister job description. Anyway, she liked you. You drove her nuts, especially after you told her you loved her. And the Buffybot made her kinda queasy, but she knew you were trying to be good when you didn't tell Glory about me, and she appreciated it. It’s sad, really."

"What, that she actually stomached me?"

"No, that she never got around to loving you back."

"Niblet, that would never have happened. I know that. I told her as much."

"You’re wrong. She was, I mean… I feel kinda bad telling all her secrets, but it’s not like she can do anything about it now, can she?" Dawn asked with a tiny mischievous smile. "She… I mean, you… Buffy thought you were hot, for starters. And she knew that you were trying to be a better man, and she really admired the change in you from the first time she met you. I remember one of the best entries is around the time that Mom died. She said she saw you standing outside from her bedroom window. You had flowers and Xander refused to believe that there was not an ulterior motive. She said it was one of the saddest things she’d ever seen when you walked away and threw the flowers down. She wanted to believe that you really loved her, Spike, and she wanted to love you, too, but she was so scared."

"What, of me? The fangless wonder?"

"Not in that way," the young girl responded, laughing a little. "She was… cautious. She hasn’t exactly had a good track record with guys, particularly with guys like you-"

"What, British? Amazingly, indescribably handsome?"

"Vampires. She was just so hurt by all the stuff that happened with- Can I say the ‘A’ word?"

Spike rolled his eyes, but soon nodded at her.

"She was so confused after Angel, and she swore off bad boys, but then the whole Riley thing happened and she swore off good boys. For a while she rambled on about becoming a nun, figured slaying would be a good, proactive approach to the whole 'Do you reject Satan and all his works?' vow. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, if it hadn’t been for Glory, if you two had been able to keep talking and becoming closer, she would have gone out with you. I know it for a fact. I can show you the diary if you really want, but I have to edit it."

"Have to cut out the words separately and paste them together like a ransom note? I. Want. Spike?"

"No, it’s just… there are some parts she’d probably not want you to see."

"Like all of it?"

"Well, yeah," Dawn agreed, at least having the decency to blush a little before continuing. "But some parts are worse than others. I mean, really bad. Cinemax after midnight bad. Like after the Buffybot-"

"Yeah?" asked Spike, a little too eagerly even to his own ears.

"Well, let’s just say she didn’t believe it either when Tara told me you built her to play checkers with you. In fact, she… uh… imagined other things in kinda vivid detail."

"Really? Wait! Dawn! Why’re we talkin’ about this? It’s not really the time. And you’re entirely too young!"

"Spike, please," she pleaded desperately. "You’re the only one who never treated me like a kid. Please don’t start now."

"I won’t, Niblet, but I gotta be careful now, you understand. I gotta protect you, and whether it’s from hell beasts or the evil smut spawned in your sister’s mind, I’m gonna protect you."

"I appreciate that, Spike, but you don’t need to feel obligated. You’re my friend. You can just be my friend and not my bodyguard. You don’t have to change that just ‘cause Buffy’s…"

"Yeah, I do. I promised ‘er, Bit. The night she died, when I took her home to prepare and get weapons. She made me promise that no matter what happened I would take care of you. I promised her. ‘Til the end of the world. I won’t let Buffy down. Not after all the other times I disappointed her."
Across the room, Dawn smiled a little at him.

"And you thought she didn’t like you." At Spike’s puzzled look, she continued. "She made you promise. Not Willow, not Giles, not Xander and Anya. You. She picked you to stay with me. She just died for me, Spike. Do you really think she’d ask someone she hated to protect the thing she died for?"
A small smile crept to the vampire's lips as he responded.

"Never thought of it like that."

"Plus, in some of the diary entries, she dotted the 'I's in your name with hearts."

"Now I know you're lying, Bit."

****************************A/N*******************************
This is the only chapter written so far, but I thought posting it might encourage me to write faster. But, you know, reviews do that too! =)
~PMM