Chapter 2:

For several heart beats Buffy was frozen. Then she realized that Spike hadn't turned to dust. That spurred her to action. She ran to him and knelt at his side. The stake was still embedded in his side, thankfully at least 2 inches from where she had intended to plant it. Cool blood was seeping out and beginning to soak through his shirt, deepening the carmine fabric to burgundy.

Buffy tucked the pearl cross inside her top before she carefully lifted Spike. She cradled his white-blond head against her chest with one arm while her other hand frantically tried to open his shirt to see the damage. It looked like the stake had lodged in his ribcage. Spike was lucky that she had been off balance when she staked him. It was a miracle that the stake hadn't been driven into his heart when he hit the ground.

She vaguely remembered from Health class the admonition to never pull something out of puncture wound in the chest. Something about the object plugging a hole that might otherwise hemorrhage. With humans the warning made sense. But with a vampire, a stake lodged in the chest might hit the heart if it was jarred accidentally. It had to come out.

Buffy wrapped her hand around the stake gingerly. One false move and Spike was dust. Praying, she took a deep breath and pulled upward on the stake. It slid out with a horrible sucking sound. She gagged when she saw the almost fist sized hole left in its wake. At first, she could see in as deep as her index finger and then more blood began seeping in.

Buffy knew vampires couldn't die from blood loss, but it made recovery more difficult. She needed to stop the bleeding. She ripped wide strips from the hem of her skirt and stuffed them in the hole, but they quickly became soaked and useless. She scrabbled for her backpack, but there was nothing but weapons: stakes, a large cross, a vial of holy water. Not even a little first aid kit, like Giles had urged her to carry.

It was a crazy idea, but she was desperate. As carefully as she could, Buffy dribbled holy water on the skin around the wound. As the skin began to burn, she pressed the edges together as hard as she could. As she suspected, the holy water cauterized the wound. The repair looked hideous, but at least, he wasn't losing any more blood.

He still seemed unconscious. Still she spoke in a reassuring tone of voice. "You're going to be okay, Spike. I'll be right back with help."

She ran.

***

The phone was ringing, but Xander Harris didn't want to answer it. He was dreaming about Anya, a good dream, not the one where she turned him into an inside-out howler monkey and made him skip rope with his own entrails. Or the one where she screwed a legion of bleached blond vampires.

No this was a good dream. They were taking a boat out to Catalina Island. The day was not too hot but sunny, with a strong breeze. Perfect sailing weather. They had a picnic lunch in a wicker basket. Half of a cold roasted chicken, a salad of tender crisp baby field greens with balsamic vinaigrette, fresh rolls and butter, and new strawberries. Even a chilled bottle of Chardonnay. Anya was wearing a wide brimmed straw hat. He bent down to kiss her and she let go of the hat so that the wind skimmed it away over the blue, blue water. But she didn't mind.

He knew it was just a dream. In real life, he and Anya weren't kissing again yet and if they were, she'd be peeved at the loss of the hat. It looked expensive. That's why he ignored the phone. Or tried to. Eventually Dream!Anya heard it ringing, too. She asked him why he didn't get it.

"Because you'll go away." He tried to kiss her again, but she leaned away and pointed to the phone.

Xander shook his head. "No, it's probably just Buffy calling to say that something is trying to end the world again. I'd rather go sailing with you."

Dream!Anya smiled. "That's sweet, but you really should answer the phone if you think it's Buffy. She might need you."

"Don't you need me?" He didn't mean to sound so desperate.

"I'm just a dream." She shrugged, "I don't have needs. I'm just a reflection of what you need. But then, that was always part of the problem," Dream!Anya said sadly and suddenly, Xander was awake.

The phone was still ringing. He answered it in as nasty a voice as he could muster given the heaviness of his heart. It *was* Buffy.

"Xander, I need you to come quickly with your car. The cemetery. Oh and bring a board if you can find one."

"What's going on?"

"I staked Spike by accident, but I missed." Her voice faltered. "He's hurt bad. And Giles is already on his way. But his car won't start so he's on foot. We need you so that we can get Spike back to my house."

Xander let the receiver dangle as his mind processed the information. Spike was back. Buffy had staked him, but he hadn't died. Now, despite everything, she was trying to help him and wanted Xander to chip in too. The words that came out of his mouth next surprised him."Sorry, Buff, I can't."

"Oh, no. Is something wrong with your car too?"

"No. It's just I can't. I mean I won't."

He could hear her shocked intake of breath.

"What do you mean you won't? I need your help, Xander." She pleaded.

"Helping you save Spike isn't really helping you, Buffy. I won't do it." His voice and resolve grew stronger. "I'm sorry, but I won't do it."

He waited for Buffy to say something that would change his mind, maybe yell. Instead, her voice was soft and way too calm. "I'm sorry you feel that way Xander and I'm sorry I disturbed you. Goodnight."

Xander listened to the phone click off and then he just sat with the receiver next to his ear until the snippy automated female voice told him to hang up and try again if he would like to make a call. Which he did.

"Hello?" The voice sounded even angrier than his did when he answered his own phone five minutes earlier. He realized that maybe it wasn't a good idea to wake a vengeance demon at 4:30 in the morning.

"It's me, Anya. I wanted to know if you would go sailing with me tomorrow."

"Xander?"

"I had a dream that we went sailing."

"Xander, have you been drinking?"

He laughed "No. In my dream, we had a picnic lunch and you wore a beautiful hat."

She didn't say anything.

"Please say you'll go sailing with me tomorrow. You don't have to wear a hat."

Anya sighed. "I can't go sailing tomorrow. I have to do inventory. Even with Giles' help, it'll take all day."

"Okay. Will you go sailing with me on Sunday?" He closed his eyes, prayed she'd say yes.

"Yes. I'll go sailing with you on Sunday."

Xander couldn't tell if she was exasperated or not. "Thank you, Anya."

"Can I go back to sleep now?" she pleaded.

"Yes. Goodnight. Oh, and Anya? Giles won't be in tomorrow to help with the inventory."

"Why not? He's the one who suggested it."

"He'll be helping Buffy nurse Spike back to health."

There was a slight pause. "So, he's back." She said it lightly.

"Yes."

"And something got him?"

"Buffy got him. I guess it was mistaken identity or something. Anyway, she needs Giles to watch up the hole she left in his chest." Xander tried to sound nonchalant.

"She called and asked you to help too, didn't she?" Anya asked softly.

"Yes."

"You didn't go." There was wonder in Anya's voice.

"No." Xander found that he was smiling "No, I didn't."

Another pause. "Is that why you called? To let me know that you didn't go running when Buffy needed you?"

He figured honesty was best. "Yes and no. Mostly, I called because in my dream you said you didn't need me, but I still wanted to be with you anyway."

More silence, then "Thank you for calling Xander Harris. I'll expect you early on Sunday."

"Seven AM, Anya. And I'll bring a picnic lunch. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He almost laid the phone back in the cradle when he heard her call out, "Wait, Xander!"

"Yes?"

"What kind of hat was I wearing in your dream?"

He took a deep breath. "A wide brimmed straw hat, like something Audrey Hepburn would wear. It had a black and white polka dot ribbon that matched your swimsuit. And when I kissed you, you didn't care that the wind blew it away."

Xander swore he could *hear* her smiling as she hung up the phone.


***

In the end, Buffy lugged Spike in a fireman's carry to a bar two blocks from the cemetery where Giles called a cab. The driver didn't ask any questions about the blood spattered pale man passed out between his dad and girlfriend. That was pure vanilla compared to what he saw most nights in Sunnydale.

Buffy and Giles carried Spike into her house. They tried not to jostle the injured vampire too much and took additional care to be as quiet as possible. Buffy was terrified that they would wake Willow or worse Dawn. She didn't think she could handle a hysterical teen as well as a wounded Spike.

At first, they put him on the sofa, but the light in the living room was too poor. So they carried Spike upstairs and laid him on her bed. The vampire remained unconscious while they cut off the remains of his shirt and sponged the dried blood from his chest. Then Buffy held her gooseneck desk lamp close so that Giles could examine the damage done by the stake.

The wound remained sealed, so there was no need for stitches. But the puckered edges were raw and ugly looking. None of the burns from stray drops of holy water had healed either. The dime sized sear marks were an angry red against Spike's alabaster preternatural skin. Though both doubted that vampires were susceptible to infections, Giles and Buffy worked together to treat the injuries with a triple antibiotic salve. Then, they bandaged Spike's chest with fresh gauze and tape.

At length, Giles said, "The holy water was a clever idea. Without it, the blood loss would be much worse."

"I hear a 'but' coming." Buffy said.

Giles took off his glasses and examined the lenses looking hard for some speck to polish away.

"Giles, just tell me."

"Well, Spike should have awakened by now. And it appears that he's not healing."

Buffy nodded. She had hurt Spike often enough to know that he should show more signs of recovery.

Giles continued. "I think the blood loss is more extensive than expected for even as great a wound as you inflicted. Judging from the blood on his clothing and on the floor of the crypt, I estimate he lost 4 or 5 pints. Enough to kill a human, but hardly so much for a master vampire like Spike." He paused. "It's been a half an hour. He should be awake and his usual insufferable self by now.

"So, why isn't he?" She glanced anxiously at the vampire.

Giles hesitated. "Buffy, I suspect that Spike has no more than one and a half pints of blood left in his body."

"How is that possible? You just said that he probably lost no more than 5 pints." Buffy frowned with the effort to remember high school biology. "He's on the slight side, but he would still carry about 10 pints. If he lost 4 or 5 pints, that should leave 5 pints."

"Yes, but he may have been low on blood to begin with." Giles grimaced. "I think he was starving."

Buffy looked at Spike wonderingly. He did look much thinner than usual; his cheekbones not just pronounced but jutting. Why was Spike starving? Even with the chip in, he'd always been resourceful about getting blood, cigarettes, and alcohol. He had no problems with stealing if he lacked funds. Obviously something had kept him from taking the time or effort to get blood. But what?

She turned back to Giles. "Is it possible that he was being chased by something. That he didn't have an opportunity to feed?"

"Anything is possible. It might explain why he came back to Sunnydale after all this time away." He sounded worried.

They both stared at Spike for several minutes. He looked dead, really dead. So white and unmoving against the brightly patterned comforter on Buffy's bed.

"Giles, he won't begin to heal until he has blood, right?"

Her Watcher nodded.

"And he certainly can't answer any questions if he's unconscious. We need to get some blood into him."

"Of course. However, none of the slaughterhouses or blood banks will be open for at least another couple hours."

She paused, not sure she wanted to go where she was headed. "There's blood right here, Giles."

"What? Buffy, why are you keeping blood in the house? Has Angel been visiting?" He stopped and looked at her with something like shock. "Were you hoping Spike would return?"

"No. No." Buffy blushed. "I mean I have blood, Giles. Right here running through my veins."

"Absolutely not, Buffy." Giles sputtered. He stood up. "Spike won't die. He can wait until one of the butchers opens."

Buffy shook her head. "And what if something nasty is out there right now tracking him?

The Watcher didn't answer and she knew that she had him. "He needs blood. Any blood will do, but human would be better. You *know* that Slayer blood will heal him faster than anything other than the blood of another vampire." She didn't have to say why they knew this.

"Perhaps we should call Angel, he could be here in an hour." Giles said hopefully.

Buffy was shocked. Giles never volunteered to call Angel when there was trouble. If he was suggesting that, the Watcher was desperate for an alternative.

"No. I'm not sure he'll come, there's too much between him and Spike." She was grateful that Giles nodded in agreement. Buffy took another deep breath. "We'll give him a pint. It won't hurt me. I've given that much at campus blood drives."

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. He wished that he had a good reason to say no, but he knew that Buffy was right. If something was following Spike, they needed to know.

"I won't let him feed from you," he said finally.

Buffy made a face. "Ugh, of course not."

They got a glass from the kitchen and Giles sterilized a scalpel. The first cut hurt a bit, but then she distracted herself by watching her life force draining into one of Dawn's Mickey Mouse tumblers. When the glass was full, Giles pressed a gauze bandage onto her wrist and told her to leave the room. "I don't think it'll be good for you to see this."

She nodded, the thought made her nauseous. "I think I'll lie down on the couch. I'm not woozy, just tired."

Giles shut the door . Buffy finished bandaging her wrist and went downstairs wearily. Her last thoughts were of the black leather duster she could see hanging in her hall closet.

***

When Buffy woke up, sunlight was streaming in her living room window. For a moment, it was pretty, then she remembered she had a convalescent vampire in the house. She sat up and tugged on the heavy drapes.

"You're awake."

Buffy turned to see her best friend curled up in the easy chair. The redheaded ex-witch looked deeply worried.

"Willow." Buffy stretched. "Do you know what's going on?

The redhead nodded. "Giles told me when I woke up at seven."

"Seven! What time is it now?!"

Willow shrugged. "Nine. Nine-thirty, maybe."

Buffy threw off the afghan and started looking for her shoes. "I've gotta go get blood."

"Uh, uh. Already taken care of. Giles said to let you sleep so I was first in line at the slaughterhouse this morning." Willow's lips curved in a mischievous smile. "It's interesting the kinda folks you meet buying pork byproducts at the crack of dawn."

Buffy could only imagine.

"Anyway, I bought two gallons of pigs' blood. They're in the fridge." Willow made a face at the thought. "I hope that's enough. I don't want to go back there anytime soon."

Buffy sat down again and put her head in her hands. "Has Spike woken up yet?"

Willow winced. "I'm sorry. You missed it. Spike was awake for about a half an hour after Giles gave him your blood." The ex-witch shivered at the thought. "Then he fell asleep again. He's still really weak. By the way, how are you feeling, Buffy?"

The Slayer stood up again. "I'll be fine as soon as I know what's going on."

"You can't *really* expect to get straight answers from Spike." Xander said as he closed the front door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" Buffy was surprised at her cold her voice sounded. "I mean, I thought that you said you couldn't help."

"I'm not here to help. I'm here to make sure that you don't get hurt." Xander pulled a stake out of his back pocket.

"You're not going to stake Spike." Buffy said warningly. She moved between her friend and the stairs.

"I will. I swear I will, if he so much as looks at you wrong." His voice trembled with emotion, but the hand holding the stake was rock steady.

Buffy put her hand on Xander's arm, gently. "I can handle him myself."

Xander shook his head and laughed bitterly. "No, you can't. I wish you could, but evidently you have a soft spot where certain vampires are concerned."

They glared at each other.

Willow glanced back and forth between her two closest friends. They might not come to blows, but someone was going to get hurt if she let this continue. The ex-witch cleared her throat, "Um, guys. There's something that you both should know. And there's no easy way to say this. Spike has a soul."

Continued...