A Love As Strong As Death

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Everyone knows that not all these characters are mine, and I'm not making money off the ones that are. So there.

Archive: Anywhere that already has my stuff. Anywhere else, ask and it shall be given to you.

Summary: Set after the end of Cast Me Not Away and its follow up stories. This sequel is longer and darker than the intervening short stories. It deals with family, children, immortality, life and death, and making amends. We will also be jumping around in time a bit, so look sharp.

A/N: I debated for a long time before writing this one, although the idea was there before I even finished CMNA. Some of you will believe that I have ruined the previous stories, which is fine. All I ask is that if you're unhappy with where this goes that you'll go back, re-read Cast Me Not Away through Silver Bells, and then you can flame me if you'd like. I'll calmly pull out the fire-extinguisher and ignore you, but that's alright. The themes have been there; I just hadn't quite managed to elaborate on them yet. (Oh, and before anyone screams Nika, Wesley, Spike and Buffy will survive. More than that I won't promise.)

 

Chapter 8: January 2017

 

Nike didn't have to try to appear upset; she had thought they had dealt with this problem already. Davey had been doing so much better in school, and now he was failing social studies and falling dangerously close to it in reading and math. He'd never been quite the student that Will was, but this was unlike him.

Still, she hated to see the disappointment on his face that bordered on betrayal. "It's not fair!" Davey exclaimed. "I got invited over to Chris's ages ago!"

"I'm sorry, Davey," Nika said, glad she could keep her voice even. "You know the rules. You won't be going out with friends until your grades are back up where they ought to be."

Davey's lower lip trembled a little. "It's not fair," he repeated. "Mrs. Howard hates me!"

Nika bit back a sigh. "I doubt that's true, Davey. Now be honest. Have you not been doing your homework?"

"I've done it all," Davey said, his eyes welling up. "She just doesn't like me. Honest, Mum. I've been trying!"

"Your father and I know that you're capable of doing better," Nika replied. "Until you're working up to your potential—"

"Uncle Spike knows," Davey said rebelliously. "He understands that a guy can't spend all his time with books."

Nika raised an eyebrow. "I happen to know that your Uncle Spike got top marks in school. That's hardly a reason for you not to do your best."

"It's because you love Will better 'n me," Davey shouted. "You love him best because he does everything right! I'm not him!"

He dashed off before Nika could make any reply to that, and she put her head in her hands. What she wouldn't give to have Wesley with her, but he wouldn't be back for days yet. Even if he wasn't quite as close to Davey, at least he would have been moral support.

A thin arm snaked around her shoulders. "Are you alright, Mum?"

Nika made a sound that was half a laugh and half a sigh, looking into blue eyes that were so close to Wesley's. "I'm fine, Will." She hesitated. Usually they never asked the boys to tattle on each other. It was unfair, but in this situation Nika wanted to know what was going on. "Will, Davey keeps saying that the teacher hates him. Is that true?"

Will chewed on his bottom lip, troubled. He knew that Davey was trying to tough things out, but it hurt to see his brother so upset. They didn't have the same friends, and their personalities were night and day, but they were still close. "It's not all Davey's fault," he said quietly.

Nika frowned. "What's been going on, cariad?"

"I heard Mrs. Howard say that Davey should be on Ritalin, and she's angry that he isn't," Will explained. "She cuts him down in front of the class and makes him stay in at recess."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since school started almost," Will admitted. "Davey said not to say anything, maybe because he kind of started it. We were talking in Welsh, and she got angry with us, and he back talked."

Nika sighed. It wasn't right for a teacher to hold a grudge against a little boy. Davey was active, but no more so than any other boy his age. At the school's urging, they had gotten him evaluated, but there was no sign of hyperactivity. When he wanted to, Davey could concentrate for just as long as his twin. Wesley had flatly refused to either medicate him or punish him for his high activity level. "The boy should be allowed to be a child," he had insisted.

Nika happened to agree, but she also thought that Wesley was deeply afraid of breaking his son's spirit, and he refused to risk it. They had talked about finding a different school, but it looked as though the time for talking was over.

"What would you think about going to a different school?" Nika asked. "Not that you will, mind you."

Will hesitated, and then he asked, "Would Davey be going with me?"

"Absolutely," Nika replied. She knew that most schools had a policy of splitting siblings, but they hadn't liked that idea. Davey and Will were good for each other. Davey made sure Will didn't get picked on, and Will often settled Davey down.

"That's okay then," Will replied decisively. "I don't want to get split up from him."

Nika hugged her son. "I know you don't, sweetheart. Now, why don't you go do your homework, and see if your brother will do his?"

He gave her a quick grin, stopping to give Hannah a hug as he left the kitchen. The Slayer had come in on the tail-end of the conversation, and she returned his embrace with affection. Will had been more than a bit stand-offish when the girl had come to stay with them, but something had changed things. One day he'd been reserved, the next they were best of friends.

Nika had decided that she didn't need to know why.

"How are you?" Hannah asked, giving Nika a quick hug in turn. "It sounds like you were dealing with World War Three in here."

"You're not far off," Nika said ruefully. "You saw Davey's report card. I had to inform him he wouldn't be going to Chris's birthday party this weekend."

Hannah winced, knowing how much the boy had been looking forward to it. "If that's what it takes to get his attention, I guess."

"Except that Will tells me his teacher has some sort of grudge against him," Nika replied. "If that's the case..."

"Are you thinking about that private school?" she asked. "It might be better for both of them. I mean, Will's not doing all that great in public schools."

"I know," Nika sighed. "Wesley and I have discussed it, and we both had thought things might get better, but that's not the case. We don't want to teach them to run from their problems."

"Except sometimes retreating is the only thing you can do," Hannah pointed out. "If Davey gets too discouraged, he'll just stop trying, and that won't do anybody any good."

Nika gave her foster daughter a grateful look. "That's a good point, cariad. When did you get so wise?"

She shrugged. "Somewhere along the way, I suppose."

Changing the subject, Nika said, "That Sam seems like a very nice boy."

"He is," Hannah replied, her tone troubled.

"That's a problem?"

"He wants me to go out with him." Her voice was so low that Nika had to lean forward to catch her words.

Nika frowned. "Do you not like him?"

"No, I—I think I do, it's just, what am I going to tell him?" Hannah asked. "I mean, what happens when he finds out what I am? If he freaks—"

Nika pulled Hannah into an embrace. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry this has to be so difficult."

"What if he hates me when he finds out?"

"I highly doubt that will happen," Nika responded. "You'll just have to wait for the right moment, I suppose."

Hannah shook her head, troubled. She wished her Watcher was present. Wesley would be able to help her either decide to tell her secret or be able to advise her how to keep it. "How does a Slayer date?" she asked finally.

"Why don't you ask Buffy?" Nika asked with an encouraging smile. "She might be able to give you some pointers."

Hannah frowned, but then nodded. "Maybe. I'll give her a call tonight. It might help her take her mind off Spike being gone."

~~~~~

The house felt terribly empty without him. The silence seemed to echo. It got better when Meg came home, since the girl seemed to need the reassurance of her mother's presence. Still, it wasn't the same.

Buffy actually managed to cook dinner for the both of them without burning it. "Good dinner, Mom," Meg said, trying for cheerful. She almost managed it.

"Thanks, sweetie," Buffy replied, leaning across the table to run a hand down her daughter's hair. "How are you?"

Meg hesitated and then admitted, "I really miss Dad."

"I know, Meg. Me too." The Slayer smiled bravely at her daughter. "I'm sure he'll be just fine, though."

"He was going really far away," Meg pointed out softly. "What if something happens? What if he doesn't come back?" She still remembered the last trip her parents had made together. Spike had been stuck in bed for a few days recovering. She had hated seeing her father like that.

Buffy took a deep breath. "He promised. Your father always keeps his promises."

"I know that," Meg said impatiently. "But what if he just can't this time?"

It was Buffy's greatest fear too. "Then we'll keep going for him. That's what he would want." She took a deep breath. "Let's get this mess cleaned up. Hannah's going to be here soon."

They cleaned up the kitchen in silence, and Buffy wondered if she should have said something else. Had she dismissed Meg's fears too quickly? She had a tendency to do that, just as Spike usually shot straight from the hip. In a situation like this, Spike would have known exactly what to say to soothe.

Buffy wondered if she wasn't still using him, this time for running interference between her and those she loved best. She asked him to translate for her, to explain what she meant, to be gentle when she couldn't help being harsh.

They were yin and yang, and Buffy needed him now.

"I'm scared too."

The words were spoken into the silence of the kitchen, and Meg looked up at her mother gratefully. "But he'll come back."

"Of course he'll come back," Buffy said, a nostalgic smile lighting up her face. "He always does."

~~~~~

Hannah and Nika had decided that the younger Slayer ought to invite herself over for the night. The next day was Saturday, so she didn't have to worry about school, and she could keep Buffy company. Nika knew all about having an empty house.

"So what's this I hear about a boy?" Buffy teased gently. Their relationship had become much easier over the last couple years.

Hannah shrugged. "His name is Sam. He's nice."

"And he wants to ask you out?"

"He's been following me for a while," Hannah admitted.

Buffy's eyes widened. "He's been stalking you?"

"No!" Hannah quickly replied. "Sam's harmless. He just follows me sometimes and asks if I need him to carry my books, that sort of thing."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Carry your books?"

"I'm pretty sure that was supposed to be funny, but it's hard to tell with Sam." Hannah looked away. "I like him, Buffy, but I'm the Slayer."

Hannah was the Slayer, and Sam was a regular guy, although Buffy was fairly certain that they could be grateful for that. After all, boyfriends were enough trouble; throw in being undead and you have a recipe for disaster.

Unless the vampire in question was Spike, and then all bets were off.

Buffy understood what she was saying without any other explanation. "How do you think he'll feel about the super strength?"

"I think he'll think it's pretty cool," Hannah admitted. "Sam already knows I'm a little different since I stopped a couple jocks from shoving him in a locker."

"You have to play it by ear," Buffy said eventually, once she'd considered what Hannah was saying. "I've had human boyfriends in the past, and it doesn't always work out. If he's not okay with your strength, then you know he's not the right guy for you."

Hannah looked up to meet Buffy's eyes. "I like being the Slayer. It's probably the best thing that's ever happened to me, and it brought me to Wesley and Nika. Sometimes, though, it just sucks."

"Yeah, it really does," Buffy replied, a depth of feeling in her tone of voice alone.

"Will it ever get easier?"

Buffy pondered Hannah's question—unwilling to lie, and yet unwilling to tell the whole truth. "Maybe," she finally decided. "It doesn't always get better. Sometimes it has to get worse first."

"Gee, that's comforting," Hannah said wryly.

"Not really," Buffy agreed, realizing that she was letting her own mood set the tone for their conversation. "Sometimes people surprise you, sweetie. Maybe that's what Sam will do for you."

Hannah looked uncertain. "I think he's going to ask me to prom."

"Are you going to go?"

"I don't know," Hannah replied. "I mean, it's kind of silly, isn't it?"

Buffy knew that tone of voice all too well. It was the "I'm not going to be able to go, so I'll convince myself it wasn't worth it anyway" tone. She remembered her senior prom, and while it hadn't been the prom every girl dreams of, it had ended up okay. Hannah, however, deserved to have a dream prom with the pretty dress and the hair and everything else that went along with it.

She decided to appoint herself the one in charge of ensuring Hannah's happy day. "It's not silly," Buffy said firmly. "It's supposed to be a magical night."

Hannah didn't have magical nights. She had nights when she dusted half a dozen vamps. "Buffy, that's not—I mean, I don't even know if he's going to ask me."

"He'll ask," Buffy said with a smile. "How could he not? And then we'll just have to make sure it's the best night yet."

Hannah smiled at that. She knew Buffy's resolve-face, which meant come hell or high water, she would have the best prom ever. For the first time, Hannah thought it might just work out.

~~~~~

Wesley alternated between pacing and sitting outside the cave. It hadn't been nearly as hard to find as they'd feared, nor had it taken them long to get there. He almost wished they'd had more time, and as he waited, apprehension filled him.

Spike had gone in alone, since that was the way it worked, but how would he know if the vampire had survived? He had no idea how long the trials would take, only that there was more than one of them. What was he going to tell Buffy if Spike never came out?

What would he do?

Wesley didn't have a problem with Spike's choice. When the vampire had come to him months before, the Watcher had understood exactly where he was coming from. In truth, he didn't see another option. Even if Willow had done the glamour to throw off the outside observers, Spike would still be forced to watch everyone he loved age and die. It wasn't fair in the least to ask that of him.

Now, however, standing outside the cave, waiting for the outcome, Wesley wondered if he had been right to support Spike's decision. Perhaps he should have encouraged the vampire to wait until they found something less risky. Perhaps there would have been another solution that gave them the same outcome.

Wesley didn't want to lose him.

He knew that there was a good chance that if Spike did walk out of that cave he would be human, which meant having a soul. He also knew that Angel had spent almost a century half-crazy with guilt after he'd received his soul. The differences between Angel and Angelus were stark; Wesley had experienced that for himself.

If Spike came out drastically changed, if he wasn't Spike anymore, Wesley had already determined that it didn't matter. He owed the vampire everything he had. Whatever was to come, Wesley would be there. He would take care of him.

A sound came from inside the cave, and Wesley turned to face the entrance and the emerging figure. It was finished.

 

 

Chapter 10: April 2015

Will watched the Slayer train in the backyard, a feeling of envy welling up. His dad had been busy before Hannah arrived, but now it seemed that Wesley was never around. He was always training or translating or going out with Uncle Spike. Or, if he was home, his dad was with Mum and Carwen.

Will rubbed his bruised arm self-consciously. One of the boys at school had bet him that he would cry if hit, and he had taken the dare. He hadn't cried, but the taunts continued just the same.

It wasn't fair. Will couldn't help being smart nor was he quite as good at sports as Davey was.

He had actually thought about trying out for the Little League baseball team this summer. Will was as good at hitting what he aimed at as his father, and he had a good chance of being picked for the team. On the other hand, it would mean spending most of the summer away from his beloved books and with the boys who had spent the last months tormenting him mercilessly. There were other things he would rather do with his time.

Summers were actually his favorite time of the year, same as his twin. Davey liked being off from school for three whole months; Will enjoyed them because he didn't have to worry about getting picked on constantly. Usually his dad and Uncle Spike made it a point to be around too, and Meg was over a lot with Aunt Buffy. Even Angel and his crew dropped by during the summer evenings.

Home was the place where Will felt safest, but now with Hannah there—and Carwen demanding so much of Nika's time—it no longer felt like a refuge.

"Good, Hannah," Wesley praised. "Well done."

She had just disarmed him with her quarterstaff, and Wesley was shaking out the sting in his hand. Will's scowl deepened. Hannah was just as good at the physical stuff as Davey. It really wasn't fair.

"Thanks!" she said brightly. "That was fun. Can we do it again?"

Wesley shook his head ruefully. "I'm afraid we'll have to wait for Spike to arrive. I don't think I can take any more today."

If anything, Hannah's grin widened. "Really? Cool!"

Wesley rolled his eyes and looked over at Will, who was still sitting on the back steps. "How was school today, Will?" he called.

"Fine," the boy replied, rising abruptly and heading into the house. He didn't feel like being polite to Hannah right then. His parents were very firm on always being courteous to others, and Will wasn't in the mood to get reprimanded for his attitude.

Wesley watched his son's back with a soft sigh. "I don't think he likes me much," Hannah commented quietly.

"He's used to a bit more attention," Wesley replied. "We've had two new arrivals in the last six months, and it's a big adjustment." He didn't miss Hannah's wince. "It's not your fault, Hannah," her Watcher said firmly. "I'm sure Will would feel the same if it had just been Carwen."

"Maybe," the girl replied doubtfully. She looked up at Wesley. They had become rather close in the last months, although there were times that she resented his overprotective nature. Her Watcher had filled a hole in her life that she had barely known existed, having never met her own father.

Hannah didn't even know his name.

"You should let me train with Spike or Connor more often," she suggested. "That way Will won't feel so left out."

Wesley was torn. He trusted both Connor and the vampire with Hannah, but he was her Watcher, and he hated to think that he was shirking his duties. At the same time, she might be right. "I suppose that might be possible," he replied quietly. "Angel has offered to help as well. I didn't give him an answer since I wasn't sure how you would feel about it."

"It would be okay." Hannah wasn't quite sure how to feel about the big vampire. He was so serious all of the time, but he was nice. She knew that he tried. "Whatever."

"Not whatever," Wesley said, surprising her. "You're as much in charge of your training as I am, my dear. If you're uncomfortable with someone or something, I want you to let me know."

"Angel's okay," Hannah was quick to assure him. "It's just—he's not as much fun."

Wesley chuckled. "Spike would certainly agree with you there." He put a friendly hand on Hannah's shoulder. "Come on. Let's see what Nika and Enid are sorting out for dinner."

~~~~~

Buffy was binding up her hair into a ponytail. "So you guys are going over to Wes and Nika's, right?"

Meg and Spike exchanged looks. You'd think the vampire hadn't ever looked after his own kid before. "Yeah, that's the plan," Spike replied.

"You'll bring Meg back before her bedtime, though?" Buffy said rather insistently. "It's a school night."

"Mom," Meg protested, rolling her eyes. "I'm not a baby."

Both Spike and Buffy had to bite back smiles. Meg often compared herself to the twins, pointing out the fact that she was two whole years older, and therefore ought to be allowed to do all kinds of things as a result. Spike was more likely to indulge her, while Buffy was more likely to stick to the rules.

Buffy had turned out to be more like Joyce than anyone might have predicted.

"No, you're not," Buffy replied. "But you still have a bedtime, and you will for quite a while yet."

"Hannah doesn't have a bedtime," Meg pointed out.

Buffy's lips tightened, but before she could say anything, Spike stepped in. "Hannah is five years older, moppet. When you're fifteen, then we'll talk."

Five years was a comfortable margin, Buffy decided. When Meg was a teenager, all bets would be off, and she knew it. "Absolutely," she said. "When you're fifteen, we can renegotiate," she agreed, giving Spike a grateful look. He often knew just what to say to get Meg to go along with a minimum of fuss.

"She's a Summers," was all he'd say when she pointed that out. "'course I know how to handle her."

Buffy supposed she should have argued about being "handled," but she quite liked some of Spike's methods, and had no intention of putting a stop to it.

Meg pouted a bit, but it wasn't serious. She'd had this discussion with her parents a number of times already, and so it was routine by now. The pouting was a necessary part of the process. "Fine," she sighed. "I'm going to finish my homework before I leave."

She marched out of the room and up the stairs, stomping her feet slightly to let her parents know she wasn't happy. Meg would hate for them to think they were winning too easily.

Buffy moved towards Spike. "So, did you sleep good today?"

"I slept just fine," Spike replied, a little put out. "I'm just fine, Buffy. You don't have to worry."

"I can worry about you if I want," she retorted. "Besides, I was asking to find out if you'd be awake after I get back from patrol."

A gleam entered Spike's bright eyes. "You got plans, luv?"

"Only if you're up for it."

"I'm always up for it," Spike shot back. He moved in, putting his hands around her waist and pulling her in tightly. "You shouldn't worry so much, Buffy."

Buffy sighed, putting her head on his chest. The playful moment had suddenly turned serious. "Can I help it if I worry about you?"

"Vampire, here, luv. Not much that can hurt me."

"And large pieces of pointy wood through the chest don't hurt you?" she demanded. It had been months, but Buffy still had nightmares about that moment—watching as a jagged piece of wood emerged from his chest.

It had taken him nearly a week to recover, and while it had been months since they'd hunted down Faith's killer, Buffy couldn't help but remember that she had almost lost him. In that split-second, she had seen her life without Spike, and it had been bleak.

They both still had the scars.

"Maybe we should stay home," Spike murmured, neatly changing the subject even as he nuzzled her throat. "Take it easy."

Buffy smiled. The thought was tempting. "You know that's not possible. The gang needs me."

It was a more diplomatic way of saying "Angel needs me," since he was technically in charge of this little mission. Hannah wasn't ready for a horde of Landrist beasts, even if they were fairly easy to kill. Besides, they were getting paid, which meant Buffy got a cut.

Buffy was always tickled when she got paid for doing something that was her "sacred duty."

Spike nipped at her throat with blunt teeth. "Oh, 'm sure Peaches can take care of this one on his own," he whispered.

She stifled a moan. "Later. For sure." Buffy pulled back before Spike could cause her to change her mind. "When I get back, I'll want a long, hot shower."

With an evil grin, she added, "And I don't plan on being alone."

Buffy dashed outside before she could hear Spike's answer, but his growl of frustration went right through the front door. The Slayer grinned. She still had it.

~~~~~

"Uncle Spike!" Davey's greeting was as loud as usual.

Spike grinned, catching the boy around the waist and swinging him upside down. "How's it goin', pint-size?"

Davey squealed in delight. "Uncle Spike!"

Spike put him back on his feet in time to catch Nika shaking her head at him. "You'll get him all wound up," she accused, coming over to give him a hug.

"He's always wound up," Spike retorted, winking at the boy. "How are you, luv?"

Nika gave him a serene smile. "I'm just fine." She smiled at Meg. "And how are you, cariad?"

Meg shrugged. "Good."

"I think Nain has cookies for you in the kitchen," she said. Raising her voice, she called, "Will! Spike and Meg are here!"

Silence followed, and Spike frowned. "He not have a good day?"

"He's got a bruise on his arm the size of my fist, Spike," Nika replied, her eyes worried. "I know he's not happy, but—"

"Not much you can do about it." They kept their voices low, although Meg and Davey had already scampered off to the kitchen.

Will emerged a moment later. "Hey, Uncle Spike."

His greeting was subdued, and Spike instinctively matched his tone. "How's it goin', Will?"

The boy shrugged. "Okay."

Spike hid a sigh and gave him a hug. He didn't often mention it, but while he and Davey got along quite well, it was Will who was most like him. Or, Will was very much like he had been as a boy. "Chin up, lad," he encouraged. "You tell me who to kill, an' I'll be happy to take care of it."

As he'd hoped, Will smiled at that, probably at the thought of what kind of severe bodily harm Spike could enact. The vampire would have had no problem scaring the little brats out of several years' worth of growth, but his sun allergy prevented that. "Thanks, Uncle Spike."

"Any time," Spike replied.

Nika ruffled her son's hair. "Meg and Davey are in the kitchen, Will," she said. "I think Nain has some cookies for you all."

"Where's the Watcher?" Spike asked, getting down to business.

"In the basement," Nika replied. Her eyes were somber, reflecting her concern over Will. "Spike—"

"He'll be fine, Sweet," Spike assured her. "Will's tougher than he looks."

"I don't want him to have to be tough," she replied.

Spike couldn't disagree.

~~~~~

They worked for over an hour, Spike and Wesley patiently showing Hannah the right way to execute a spin-kick, the appropriate manner to throw a stake, the quickest way to dispatch a vampire. Training with Spike gave Hannah an edge most Slayers had never had, since most Slayers were never given the opportunity to face off against a friendly vampire.

With Spike, Hannah could afford to make the mistakes that would be deadly in the field.

Her red hair was hanging in damp tendrils around her face by the time Wesley called a halt to the training session. "I think that's enough for tonight."

Hannah frowned. "We don't have to quit," she protested. "Just let me catch my breath."

Spike chuckled. "You've worked hard enough for tonight, pet. Besides, I've got to be getting Meg home or Buffy will have my hide."

"Connor's taking you on patrol tomorrow," Wesley said consolingly. "You'll have plenty of opportunities to practice those moves then."

Hannah sighed. "Okay," she agreed, trudging up the stairs.

Spike shook his head, chuckling. "Never seen a girl who loves this kind of thing so much. Not even Buffy."

Wesley shook his head. "Nika and I are a bit concerned," he confessed. "She's doing well enough in school, but she doesn't seem to be making any friends her age."

"She's not their age," Spike replied, demonstrating his sharp insight yet again. "She's had to grow up too fast to really appreciate bein' a kid."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Wesley replied. "Faith—"

"She's not Faith." Spike cut him off. "An' you're not the same git you were back then. She's a good kid with a good head on her shoulders. I don't think you have to worry about her a bit."

Wesley nodded his agreement, even though his worry wasn't going to go away. "Did you see Will?"

Spike frowned. "I did. Nika said he got hurt at school."

"We wouldn't have seen it except that she happened in on him when he was changing his shirt. Apparently the boys dared him to stand still to be hit to see if he would cry." Wesley's eyes burned. "If I get my hands on them—"

Spike shook his head. "I know Will is capable of takin' care of himself. What the bloody hell is goin' on?"

"You can't fight a group of five or six," Wesley said. "He's a child, Spike. He ought to be safe in school."

Spike shook his head, thanking his lucky stars that Meg got along so well with her classmates. She was a popular, well-adjusted little girl. Will was a different story altogether. "Things'll get better," Spike finally said, although he was none too sure of that himself. "The lad's just goin' to have to learn how to stand up for himself."

It seemed an impossible lesson to teach.

~~~~~

Will was surrounded before he could run. This was what made it so bad. It wasn't just one bully or two; he could have handled that. Even though he had no desire to fight, Will would have defended himself.

He didn't understand why it was such a bad thing to be smart, or to like to read. He hated it when they called him "sissy" and "mama's boy." If it had just been a couple of the guys, Will would have shrugged it off.

Instead, Brad and his goons had been making life hell for him for months now, and Will didn't know how to stop them.

The taunts filled his ears, and he found himself bounced around the loose circle. His glasses were knocked off early on, and Will blinked, trying to decide on a way out. If he could run, maybe Davey would help him retrieve his glasses later.

One hard shove had him hitting the ground on his hands and knees, the rough concrete scraping off skin. The stinging sensation had him blinking back tears. If they saw him crying—

He heard a cry that was not his own, and then Hannah's outraged voice. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Will started to stand and felt strong hands grab him under the arms and pull him up. "Hannah—"

"Well?" She wasn't talking to him. Hannah was reaching down to pick up his glasses, fixing Brad with a stare so cold Will could feel the temperature drop. He very nearly started to brush his hands off on his shorts before he realized that his palms were bleeding.

There was silence from the other boys. This was the first time they had been caught in the act, and they were all cowards at heart. "If I catch any of you laying one hand on Will again, or calling him one more name, I will personally break each and every single one of your fingers. Got it?"

Five audible gulps could be heard.

"Got it?" she repeated, taking a step towards Brad, recognizing him immediately as the ring-leader.

Brad took off running as fast as his legs would carry him, and the other boys quickly followed suit, leaving Hannah to take care of Will. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

Will was staring at her with wide eyes. Up until now he had viewed her as the interloper, as the girl who had monopolized his father's attention. At the moment, however, Will understood what it meant to be the Slayer.

She was incredible.

"Are you okay?" she repeated gently. Letting out a soft curse, Hannah stared at his scraped knees, turning his hands over with a sigh. "Never mind. You're a mess, Will."

"I'm okay," he said bravely, finding his voice.

Hannah put his glasses back on his face, sliding them into place with a playful finger. "Yeah, you're one tough guy, you know that?" She shook her head. "Are you going to be okay to get home?" she asked. "I don't have any band aids or anything with me."

"I'm good," Will replied, pulling himself up straight.

Hannah sighed. "Good. Well, let's get you home and cleaned up," she said. "You're bleeding all over your socks."

Will looked down. "I guess."

"I meant it, you know," Hannah said, waiting for him to meet her eyes. "I'll take care of anybody giving you problems."

"Thanks." Will looked down at the ground, mumbling something she couldn't quite hear.

"What was that?" Hannah asked.

Will shrugged. "I'm glad you came to stay with us," he confessed.

Hannah gave him a hug. "I'm really glad I came to stay with you too, Will."

It was no coincidence that Hannah walked Will home from school every day after that.

 

Chapter 11: January 2017

Wesley caught Spike as he came stumbling out of the cave. He'd seen the vampire badly injured in the past, but this was worse. He was covered in cuts, bruises, and burns, and his skin was warm to the touch.

Spike immediately lost the contents of his stomach onto the sand. The Watcher didn't let go, even though he did turn his head. Parenthood had prepared him for this much at least; Wesley had taken care of his fair share of sick children, and this really wasn't so different.

Spike was family, after all.

Wesley supported him through the dry heaves that followed, concerned when Spike couldn't seem to stop the empty reflex. "Come on, Spike," he murmured. "Just take a deep breath." It seemed to help. After a moment, Spike calmed enough for Wesley to offer him a drink of water out of the canteen he'd brought along. "Slowly."

Spike sipped obediently, handing the container back to him afterwards, and he met Wesley's eyes for the first time.

There had been no question that Spike had been at least marginally successful. His skin was warm to the touch, and there was a thin sheen of sweat over his face and chest. Wesley had felt Spike's heart beating under his hand, had felt his chest expanding and contracting as he drew in great gulps of air. Not only that, but he looked as though he had aged ten years in the last few hours.

He was human—or near enough. One look into his eyes told Wesley that he also had gotten his soul.

"Spike—" he began, but the words failed him. After a moment, he tried again. "What did you ask for?"

"Told him I wanted to be mortal." His voice was hoarse. Wesley couldn't help but wonder how much screaming he had done. Some of his wounds looked like they were beyond painful.

A thought hit him. If Spike were truly human, he'd be dead with injuries like that.

"We should get you out of here," Wesley said, standing, and then reaching down to haul Spike to his feet.

Spike allowed Wesley to pull him up. "How can I go back?"

Wesley took a firmer grip on the now-ex-vampire. "You can go back because it's what you promised to do."

"I didn't know," Spike said quietly. "I didn't—I didn't understand. How can you—"

He stopped there, but Wesley thought he understood. "Because you've changed, Spike. That's not who you are any longer." Wesley took in a deep breath. "You're hurt, and this is new," he said quietly. "Don't think about it just yet. Give it some time."

Spike's only reply was silence.

~~~~~

Hannah shoved her Latin text into her backpack with a sigh. She had loads of homework to do tonight, and no Wesley to help her out. It wasn't that she was bad at languages—far from it. She was taking both Latin (for Slaying) and French (for the promised trip to Europe after graduation) and getting straight A's. Still, Wesley always went over her work and explained anything that was unclear.

He was a large part of the reason that her teachers thought she was a prodigy.

It had been a week and a half since he'd left, and nearly a week since Wesley and Spike had called. While everyone had understood that they would be incommunicado while in the brush, no one liked it.

They were a family, and having Spike and Wesley gone left holes that could not be filled.

Shutting the locker with a bang, Hannah shrugged into her pack and turned to head out, almost running into Neil. "Watch it!" she warned him.

The boy was panting. He was a year younger, and Hannah had stopped some of the football players from tormenting him on a regular basis.

It wasn't all altruism on her part. Sophomore year, when she'd suddenly shed the ugly duckling look and grown breasts, one of the football players had decided that her not dating was a personal challenge. He'd hounded her for a couple weeks, and Hannah had done her best to ignore him, mindful of the fact that she could seriously injure him in a fight.

When he cornered her one day and "accidentally" put a hand on her breast, she had reacted on pure instinct alone. Reuel had been lucky she hadn't broken his arm. The principal had wanted to expell her, but Wesley and Nika had only to mention "sexual assault" and "lawsuit" in the same sentence to put an end to that.

Just because the football team had been making it to the state championships the last five years running, they all thought they were God's gift to the world. After wrenching the star running back's arm out of its socket, the football players left her alone.

And when Hannah made someone her business, they had a tendency to leave them alone as well.

So when Neil stood in front of her, out of breath and pale, Hannah knew something had gone wrong. "What is it, Neil?" she asked wearily. "Are the asshats after you again?"

He shook his head, gulping air. "No, it's—it's Sam." Neil took another breath, trying to get the news out before someone got killed. "He's fighting Dillon and some of the other guys—"

Hannah didn't let him finish. "Where?"

"Parking lot behind—"

There was only one place it could be, and Hannah took off running before Neil could get the rest of the sentence out. There was only one lot where the seniors parked, and they had to be there. Sam had done a lot of growing in the last couple of years, but there was still a very good possibility that the idiot would wind up badly hurt.

Sam had been her constant shadow over the last week. They weren't dating, but Hannah knew it was just a matter of time before he asked her out. As she'd suspected, he had been impossible to get rid of once he was given a little encouragement.

Of course, she wasn't sure she wanted to get rid of him.

Skidding to a stop in the parking lot, she saw the crowd, gathered in a loose semi-circle around the combatants. Two of Dillon's friends were holding onto Sam's arms, while Dillon stood in front of him.

Actually, while Sam looked much the worse for wear, so did Dillon, which made Hannah think that her friend might have been winning before the fight became unfair.

"Let go of him!" she yelled, running towards them.

None of the boys moved, but the crowd made a path for her. "Let go," she said. Hannah knew she was going to be really happy when high school was over. This shit was getting very old.

There was a long pause, and then Dillon said, "Stay out of this, MacDougall."

"Do you want me to rearrange your face?" she inquired politely, glancing over at the boys holding Sam's arms. "Let him go or I will hurt you."

They suddenly had no doubt in their minds that she would do exactly that. Hannah was radiating confidence and power, and it made them very, very nervous. They'd heard the rumors; they let go. "You okay, Sam?"

"Fine," he wheezed, his arm tight to his side. "Doing great."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Dillon. "What is it with you assholes?"

Dillon's eyes narrowed. "Careful, little girl. This isn't a tea party."

"No, it isn't," she replied. "You remember what happened to Reuel when he put his hands where they didn't belong? Hands off me, and hands off my friends, Dillon."

He said something rather rude to that, and Hannah simply smiled. "No thanks, but I'm sure your buddies wouldn't mind."

Dillon snarled and lunged, but before Hannah could move, Sam had laid him flat with another punch, leaving the football player to clutch at his bleeding nose. "You don't touch her," he said quietly. "Next time, I'll make sure to catch you when your goons aren't around."

Sam looked at Hannah in surprise when she slipped an arm around his waist. "Come on," she said. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Okay," he replied, thinking that at that moment he would follow her anywhere.

~~~~~

Buffy's house had never been so clean. Not that it was usually messy, but she hadn't had much to do with Spike gone. She'd gone patrolling a few times with Hannah, and she'd gone out on a job with Angel.

The Slayer had, in fact, gone about her usual routine, all the time with the knowledge that Spike wasn't there. He filled in the holes in her life, and he had become indispensable.

This was the longest period of time they had been away from one another since before Meg's birth. The longest time she had gone without contact with him since that dry spell after he had left Sunnydale, before they'd found one another again in L.A. She missed him so badly she could barely breathe, knowing as she did that they had not parted on great terms.

What if he never came back? What if something happened and the last memory he had of her was her anger and her rejection?

How could she have been so selfish?

So she cleaned house, telling herself that it would be nice for when Spike came home, not allowing herself to think the word "if." She cleaned because there were too many holes in her daily life without him there, and there was nothing else to fill it.

It was a craving that she could not satisfy, and so Buffy eschewed the company of others.

She sat down, putting her head in her hands, fighting back the tears. This was ridiculous. Just because they hadn't heard from Spike or Wesley didn't mean anything had gone wrong. Maybe they just had a hard time finding the place they'd been looking for.

It was the only feasible excuse that didn't involve injury or illness—or worse—for either of them, and so it was the only reason that Buffy would allow to enter her mind.

They were fine. They might be lost, but they were fine. She'd kick Spike's ass for not asking for directions later. After all, it would be just like him to get lost and insist that he wasn't.

The ringing of the doorbell startled Buffy out of her ruminating. She rose slowly, taking a deep breath, not wanting to show any sign of distress. When she opened the door to see Wesley standing there, her eyes widened. "Wesley? Where's Spike?"

Buffy peered around him, trying to catch a glimpse of her husband, but all she saw was Wesley's SUV parked in the driveway. "Wesley?"

"He's in the car, Buffy," he assured her quietly. Wesley appeared tired, the stubble thick on his face, and his clothing was badly wrinkled. "It's—it worked."

There was more to it than that; Buffy could hear it in his voice. "What happened?"

Wesley shook his head. "He's not a vampire any longer, but he's not completely human either. It's—he has his soul."

Somehow Buffy didn't find that at all surprising. "How bad is it?"

"It's not bad, Buffy," Wesley hastened to assure her. "He's still Spike, but—he's going to need you badly. I had a difficult time assuring him that coming back was the right decision. Spike has gotten it into his head that you wouldn't want him anymore."

She flushed deeply, knowing exactly how he'd come to that conclusion. "I'll take care of him."

"I know you will," Wesley said. He had been certain that once Buffy understood she would do whatever was necessary. The Slayer could be thoughtless and selfish at times, but she was also loyal, and she loved Spike deeply.

Spike needed that right now, more than anything Wesley could give him.

"I thought I'd pick Meg up and keep her at our place tonight," Wesley said quietly as they walked towards his car. "You'll want some time with him."

Buffy nodded. "Thank you, Wes. Have you seen Nika yet?"

"Not yet."

Buffy put a hand on his arm, causing him to pause. "Thank you for bringing him back to me."

"It was the least I could do."

~~~~~

"Ow!" Sam protested. "What are you trying to do to me?"

"Wash the blood off, nimrod," Hannah said almost affectionately. "We have to go pick my brothers up, and I don't want them running away screaming."

"I don't look that bad," he replied half-heartedly. Sam had seen himself in the mirror. His mother was probably going to kill him.

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Right. You just look like you walked your face into a fist. What were you guys fighting about anyway?"

"Nothing," Sam replied in a tone that told Hannah they'd been fighting about her.

She shook her head. "You have to let that kind of thing go, Sam. They're jerks, and I don't care what they say about me."

"I do," he retorted. "You're my—friend, Hannah. Besides, it was bad."

"What did he say?"

"I'm not going to tell you."

"Sam—"

"I mean it."

"Sam."

"He called you a frigid bitch and said someone ought to—" Sam stopped there, realizing he might need to cut out the graphic content. "He threatened you."

Hannah frowned. "They wouldn't do anything to me. The football players are still pissed that I dislocated the arm of their star running back and benched him for a few games."

Sam shook his head. "You don't get it, Hannah. They shouldn't be allowed to talk about you like that. It's one thing when it's just a little hazing. Everyone takes some of that shit, and almost everybody gets a chance to dish it out or at least outgrow it. This was ugly."

"There are a lot of really ugly people in the world," she said softly.

Sam stared at her. "You're not one of them. They shouldn't be able to touch you."

"Sam—"

"I know you're not like other girls, Hannah," he interrupted. "I watched what you did to that guy who was trashing me. That wasn't normal."

She couldn't help the blush that travelled up her face. "No, I'm a freak."

"You're special," he corrected her. "There's a difference."

Hannah wouldn't quite meet his eyes. "You're a sweet-talker."

"You want to go out with me then?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "I like you, but this—"

Sam took a deep breath, realizing that he had her on the ropes. She was about to say yes. "No pressure for anything," he assured her. "We can just be friends and hang out if that's all you want. I just want to be with you. And I want to take you to prom."

"Isn't that a little far away?" Hannah asked, amused.

Sam shrugged. "It's never too far away to start planning."

"If we're still dating, I'll go to prom with you." Hannah knew she was being impulsive. She knew that there was no way this would ever work. Slayers didn't date, and they didn't go to proms.

Except that things were different now. The number-one-Slayer, as Hannah called Buffy, had promised her a prom, and Hannah thought that if she was going to go to something stupid like that, it might as well be with Sam.

Actually, Sam was the only guy she'd want to go with.

"We'll still be dating," Sam replied with a grin. "After all, who else would come to my rescue?"

~~~~~

He wouldn't meet her eyes. That was the first thing that Buffy noticed.

The second was that the slice across his cheekbone was going to leave a scar.

Her hand went to his cheek by instinct, and Buffy felt warm skin under her hand. Spike moved his head slightly, maintaining the contact. "I missed you," she said.

Those three words seemed to release some kind of tension in him. Had he really been that worried about the welcome he would receive? "Missed you too, luv."

His voice was hoarse, and Buffy reached in to help him out of the vehicle. "Come on, Spike. Let's get you inside."

When Spike was out and standing, she looked over at Wesley, who had been looking on with a helpless expression on his face. "I've got him." Her eyes begged for him to understand.

Nodding, Wesley said, "Call when you want me to bring Meg home."

Spike didn't actually need Buffy's support to walk. He was weak, but not that weak. His limp had worsened, however, and Slayer's blood would no longer be the panacea it had been. She put her arm around him anyway, and Spike could feel her strength in a new way.

They didn't speak until they were both inside the house. "Do you—do you want something to eat?"

"Not really hungry."

"You'll probably want to get cleaned up then."

Conversation had not been this stilted between them for years. "Buffy—"

"Or sleep. You could rest too, if that's what you need."

"I'm sorry."

The words lay stark between them. Buffy led him into the living room, realizing for the first time that it was the middle of the day, and they had walked outside. She'd been so intent on Spike, she hadn't even noticed that he was out in the sun.

"For what?" she asked quietly, wondering what he would say, what changes the soul had wrought. It wasn't fair really, that she should love Spike without a soul only to have him go out looking for one. It was backwards.

No, that wasn't fair. Spike had only been looking to grow old with her. There was nothing wrong with that.

"For leavin' you," he whispered. "I never should have—it was selfish."

Buffy sighed. "Yes, but I understand. You were right to do this Spike."

"'m not the same man," he warned her. "Buffy—"

"I love you."

Those words released a dam of sorts. Spike's sobs shook his lean frame, and the Slayer gathered her husband into her arms, rocking him slowly, repeating over and over again, "I love you."

A Love As Strong As Death

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Everyone knows that not all these characters are mine, and I'm not making money off the ones that are. So there.

Archive: Anywhere that already has my stuff. Anywhere else, ask and it shall be given to you.

Summary: Set after the end of Cast Me Not Away and its follow up stories. This sequel is longer and darker than the intervening short stories. It deals with family, children, immortality, life and death, and making amends. We will also be jumping around in time a bit, so look sharp.

A/N: I debated for a long time before writing this one, although the idea was there before I even finished CMNA. Some of you will believe that I have ruined the previous stories, which is fine. All I ask is that if you're unhappy with where this goes that you'll go back, re-read Cast Me Not Away through Silver Bells, and then you can flame me if you'd like. I'll calmly pull out the fire-extinguisher and ignore you, but that's alright. The themes have been there; I just hadn't quite managed to elaborate on them yet. (Oh, and before anyone screams Nika, Wesley, Spike and Buffy will survive. More than that I won't promise.)

 

Chapter 12: January 2017

Wesley's SUV was impossible to miss, parked as it was outside the school. Wesley himself was standing next to it, leaning up against the door. The license plate was something of a joke between him and her dad, since it read DMNHNTR. Nobody was ever quite sure what to make of it, and they usually wound up thinking that Wesley was some kind of video game freak.

He straightened when he saw her come out of the doors, and Meg knew that all was not right. Her dad should have been the one to come and get her if everything was okay. Or they would have come together.

She tossed a quick goodbye over her shoulder to her friends and hurried to meet him. Wesley bent to meet her, and Meg felt his strong arms come around her in a tight hug. "Dad?"

"He's with your mum," Wesley said softly. "I think they need some time where it's just the two of them."

Meg pulled back slightly. "But he's okay?"

"Spike will be just fine," Wesley assured her. "I promise. I thought you might like to stay with us tonight."

Meg nodded, trying hard to hold back tears. She knew that things weren't right. Her dad might be alive, but he should have been there. "Okay."

Wesley frowned and pulled her to his chest again. "Meg, I promise that there's nothing bad going on. Spike just got a bit banged up, that's all. Your mum is going to help him feel better."

"Did he get what he wanted?" Meg asked.

Wesley hesitated, not knowing how much the girl was aware of. "He's—well, he'll be able to attend all your football games now."

"He's not a vampire?"

"No, he's no longer a vampire," Wesley replied.

Meg breathed a sigh of relief. She knew that was what her father had wanted. She'd been there to overhear the teachers talk at the parent/teacher night. Buffy had gone off to speak with one of the other moms, and she and Spike had been waiting.

"Have you seen Meg's dad? What a hottie!"

"Mrs. Summers definitely was robbing the cradle the day she got him."

"There's no way he's Meg's biological father. He's too young."

"Maybe he's just well-preserved."

There was tittering at that comment. "Meg does call him dad." This was said in a dubious tone, as if the speaker knew very well that they probably shouldn't be gossiping like that.

"Huh. If he's her real father, I'll eat my hat. The child probably has attachment issues. As young as he is, I wouldn't be surprised if he's merely the latest on a string of men. I doubt Meg even knows who her real father is, and I'll bet it won't be too long before this last is gone too. I know that type."

Spike had hurried her away at that point, the expression on his face a mixture of anger and guilt. He'd told her later that none of it was true, and that they were just jealous of her mom.

Meg could have told him that.

The girl was fairly sure that if that last teacher hadn't spoken, her dad probably would have brushed it off as sour grapes. Instead, the words had cut deeply, in places where he was most vulnerable. From discussions and arguments Meg had overheard, she had a pretty good grasp on what her dad was most afraid of.

Spike often said that she reminded him of Joyce; Buffy's mom had been able to see beneath the surface as well.

Meg wasn't sure what she felt about her dad not being a vampire any longer. She wasn't sure sure it mattered, as long as he came back, and he was still her father.

If Spike was happy, she was happy too.

~~~~~

Wesley drove in silence, Meg buckled into the passenger seat beside him. This wasn't how he'd planned his homecoming. Although he didn't begrudge the girl's presence, there were a number of things he needed to take care of at home, and it might have been easier had she not been there.

It had been Nika's idea, at least. Wesley knew that he'd be in trouble if he surprised her when she had other plans. His wife was one of the most flexible people he knew, but even she had her limit.

He'd called Nika from the airport once the plane had landed, informing her that they were back in L.A. and he would be home after dropping Spike off with Buffy.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

Wesley hesitated, glancing over at Spike, who appeared not to be listening to the one-sided conversation. "It's not good, Danika," he replied, his tone conveying the gravity of the situation. "We would have been home a few days ago, but Spike became ill, and we had to stop over in Holland."

"You could have called," she said, the reproach in her tone painful to his ears.

He sighed. "I could have," he agreed. "Spike refused. He's afraid of Buffy's reaction, to be honest."

"Her reaction to what?"

"The fact that he's not a vampire, I believe." Wesley wasn't sure he quite understood Spike's motives. The vampire—or rather ex-vampire—had known that things would change. He'd seemed to want it. With the return of the soul, however, something had been laid bare. Some old wound had been unearthed, and Spike had become certain that Buffy wouldn't want him any longer.

Wesley'd had his work cut out for him, just convincing Spike to go straight home. Yet it seemed as though Spike had wanted to be persuaded. As though he wanted badly to return to Buffy, even though he was sure that the outcome would not be good.

Perhaps if they had been able to hop on a flight right outside of the cave, it might have been easier. As it was, Spike had needed two days to rest up before he was healed enough to travel farther. They had flown back to Morocco and had gotten a flight to England, but there was a layover in Amsterdam.

By the time they arrived in Holland, Spike had been running a high fever and had been nearly delirious. Wesley had made the decision to stay for a few days to allow the ex-vampire time to recover. He would have called Nika and Buffy at that point, but Spike was coherent enough to demand that he not, and just sick enough to believe that any calls to Buffy would result in her telling him not to return.

Spike had exacted a promise not to make contact until they were back in L.A., and Wesley had been worried enough about his mental state that he'd agreed.

Wesley didn't explain any of it. There would be time enough later, and this wasn't a conversation he wanted to have on the phone. "I'll be home shortly."

"Why don't you pick Meg up and bring her over," Nika suggested. "It sounds as though Buffy and Spike are going to need some time to themselves."

Wesley hesitated. "Are you certain?"

"Of course," Nika replied stoutly. "Just because she's here doesn't mean we won't have time to get reacquianted after the children go to bed."

That had been that, and Wesley was thankful that Nika was as sympathetic as she was.

When Wesley and Meg entered the house together, there was chaos. The twins immediately ran to hug him, both speaking a mile a minute. Wesley could hear Nika's voice in the kitchen, her tone one of frightened concern, Enid replying in a calming manner.

"Enough," Wesley said, bending to hug both boys. "I can't understand a word you say when you speak so quickly and all at once."

The twins gave him identical sheepish grins. "Sorry, Dad," they said in unison.

He shook his head. "Now, slowly, and one at a time."

"Sam got hurt!" Davey blurted out before Will could speak.

Wesley frowned. "Who is Sam?"

"Hannah's boyfriend," Will explained. "He got beat up really bad and Mum's worried that the boys might be after Hannah again."

Wesley sighed. There was never a dull moment. "Alright, then. I'll go speak with them. Do you have homework?"

"Mine is done," Will said quickly.

Davey frowned and stared down at the ground. "Yeah."

Wesley ruffled his son's dark hair. "Do your best, Davey, and I'll see what I can do about helping you after dinner."

Davey nodded, clearly not pleased that school had even been brought up so soon after his father's return. Wesley knew he needed to make a point of spending time with both boys in the next few days. "Meg, do you have homework?" he asked.

She nodded, subdued. "Yeah. I can help Davey too, Uncle Wesley."

"Thank you, my dear," he said quietly. "Go on with you lot now."

All three children retreated into the twins' bedroom, and Wesley went into the kitchen. Nika met him at once, and they shared a long embrace. "I missed you horribly."

"I missed you too, love," Wesley replied, meeting her lips with his own. Their kiss held the promise of much more to come, but for the moment they were bound by other duties. Wesley turned to see Hannah and a young man watching them with mixed interest and embarrassment. "How have you been, Hannah?"

She hugged him, unashamed of her affection. "Good."

"There was some trouble at school today," Enid correcting her, smiling at Wesley in greeting. By unspoken agreement nothing was said of Spike, not with a stranger present.

Wesley raised an eyebrow. "So the twins told me. What happened?"

"It was my fault, sir," Sam said quickly.

Hannah frowned at him. "No, it wasn't, Sam. They were being idiots."

Wesley sighed. "Why don't you begin at the beginning, starting with introductions."

Hannah and Sam quickly explained what had happened, correcting one another any time someone got off track with the story. "It's really not Sam's fault, Wesley," Hannah said earnestly.

"I dare say it isn't," Wesley replied. "Although I'm not sure the school would feel the same way if you had been caught." He frowned, thinking quickly. "I don't want either of you going off by yourselves while you're at school," he finally decided. "If you're with each other or in a group, I doubt they'll try anything."

Hannah looked indignant. "I can take care of myself!"

"I know you can," Wesley replied. "But if you were to get in a fight with these boys, you might do more damage than could be easily explained. I would prefer to avoid that sort of problem."

"We can stick together," Sam said quickly. "I don't mind."

Wesley's lips twitched. "No, I'm certain you don't." He fixed Sam with a look. "I won't have you getting Hannah into trouble, do you understand? If I find out you're leading her astray, I'll put a stop to your seeing each other immediately."

Sam nodded, while Hannah just sighed. She had no doubt that Wesley would do exactly as he promised, and with good reason. It wouldn't do for anyone to get too curious about her ability to beat up the entire football team.

Hannah had heard the stories. Bad things could happen when Slayers were attacked or surprised by mere mortals.

"That being said," Wesley continued. "If they threaten you again, or if you're attacked, you have every right to defend yourselves with whatever means necessary."

Nika nodded. "Good. Now that we've got that settled, I think it's time for dinner. Sam, are you staying?"

Sam hesitated, knowing that Wesley had just gotten home. "I don't want to intrude."

"It's no intrusion, lad," Enid said. "We always have room for one more."

They always had.

~~~~~

Buffy held him until the sun had gone down and the room darkened. He had stopped shaking some time before, but she was so grateful to have Spike back in her arms, Buffy didn't want to let him go.

"Do you want to get cleaned up?" she finally asked softly.

Spike was silent. "I guess."

"Do you want to eat first?"

"I'm really not that hungry."

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" The pause that followed her question told Buffy what she needed to know. "You need to eat, Spike."

"Fine." He didn't sound all that happy about it.

Buffy sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn't bothered putting any gel at all in it, and the curls felt soft under her fingers. "I love you."

"Do you?" Spike asked in return, sounding none too sure of the fact. "I'm not—I'm not the man you married."

"You look like the guy I married," Buffy said with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe we ought to double check, though."

At the confused look on his face, she grinned at him. "First we get you cleaned up, then we get you fed."

Spike frowned. "Buffy—"

She took his face in her hands. "I'm sorry."

He blinked. "For what?"

"For not giving you my full support."

"You—you were worried," Spike said. "I understand. Buffy, I—"

When he stopped, Buffy stroked his cheekbones with her thumbs. "What is it, sweetie?"

"I get it now." Spike swallowed hard. "I get why you couldn't be with me. What I can't understand is why you'd be with me now."

Buffy's eyes narrowed in determination. "Actually, Spike, you don't understand anything. I love you, which is why I'm with you now. I think that had something to do with our wedding vows."

He frowned. "Buffy-luv, I can't do this."

"I don't want you to do anything," Buffy replied quietly. "Do you remember when I came back from the dead?" At his nod, she took a deep breath. "You were the only thing that made sense to me. You were the only person who didn't push me to be or do something I couldn't be or do right then. You didn't put any demands on me. You were just there. Let me do that for you now."

Spike's eyes welled up again, and she leaned forward and kissed him gently. "Do you still love me?" she asked.

"More than life."

"Then that's enough."

Buffy took him by the hand and led him up the stairs to their bedroom. Without words, she pulled his shirt off over his head, her lips tracing his jawline, his collarbone, gliding over his chest. She could feel his muscles trembling under her ministrations, and she ran her hands gently over each new injury, each fading wound.

"I love every part of you," she murmured. "Every day that you were gone was too long."

Spike drew in a great shuddering breath, and Buffy could feel the beating of his heart under her hand. "Didn't know why you'd want me, pet," he whispered. "I'd felt like I'd been turned inside out, an' I couldn't see you lovin' me."

"Why wouldn't I love you?" she asked, her hands going to his belt, unbuckling it.

He put his hands on her shoulders, stilling her movements. "I feel so dirty, Buffy, like I'll never get clean. Never thought it would be like this."

Buffy met his eyes, and she could see the pain deep set. "I know."

"How could you?"

"Because I felt so empty after I got back, and I never thought I'd be complete again. You loved me even when I wasn't all there."

"I loved all of you."

"And I love all of you."

He let her finish undressing him then, let her climb in the shower behind him. He stood underneath the pounding spray and let the water wash over him as Buffy's hands caressed his body.

Spike let her make love to him, finally managing to respond. It felt empty somehow, as though she wasn't really making love to him, to this new thing that he'd become. How could she love him?

How could she love him when he hated himself?