Good Evening, All:)

Wow, wild little ride there we had on Saturday. I can't apologize enough to those of you who thought that was the end of the story. That I just got bored and killed everyone off in one fell swoop. Quite the contrary. I need this story *more* in light of the happenings on the show. I need to see a respectful, loving Buffy and a sane Spike.

That doesn't mean I don't need a little angst.

That being said, here's some good old fashioned angst for ya! We are now back to real time. Back to the hospital. Back to what is really happening. What William saw in the last chapter was a possibility for the future. Next chapter, he will see another. But, in the meantime, Spike and Buffy have some very real problems to deal with. Ones that may break them.

Still, I will eventually set things right. In the meantime, may I suggest tissues and chocolate?

Next chapter will be out on Thursday and it *will* be another flash forward chapter. No one freak on me. I promise that it's only another possibility, not necessarily the way things will be. Stay with me here and you will like where this takes you.

And remember, I believe in happy endings.

Enjoy and let me know what you think:)



*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue

"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Buffy, and a widdle Spike, and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002

Title: Beggars (Time - Chapter Thirteen)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (with, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Set simultaneously with The Poet. Spike is concerned that the alarms in the hospital might have to do with his newborn son. But what will he do when he finds the truth? Xander and Willow have a discussion with Buffy about forgiveness. Riley approaches the SG and tries to gain their trust. Spike is helped by an unlikely friend.

Beggars

Spike's hands slapped to his ears. Giles looked at the Vampire quizzically, wondering for a moment if the chip had ever really been removed. In the distance, the Watcher could hear the buzz of alarms chiming and whistling. Some poor soul moving on.

"Spike?" Giles finally asked.

"Bloody alarm," Spike grumbled, slowly dropping his hands and gritting his teeth, allowing himself to become accustomed to the horrid sound. Suddenly, he became still, his face changing , shifting from annoyance to panic almost as obviously as Vampire to Man.

"What is it?" Giles questioned as Spike began toward the door to the stairwell.

"Will's floor," Spike mumbled in response, disappearing into the darkness.

*****

The nurse looked down at Buffy kindly. "It won't hurt."

"Oh, just do it," Buffy snapped, rolling over slightly on her less painful side. Xander turned, Emma clinging to him, cringing. Willow held Buffy's hand. Gently, the nurse jabbed the needle, sliding the liquid relaxation into the muscle of Buffy's hip.

"Owwww," Buffy whined as the nurse rearranged her gown and helped her back to lying flat.

"Not for long," the nurse replied, winking.

"D'you give her the good stuff?" Willow quipped, brushing Buffy's hair from her face.

"She'll feel nothing but lovin'," the young nurse joked, pulling the blanket to Buffy's aching chest. Suddenly, a shrill beep filled the empty air of the room. The nurse scrambled at her waist for her pager, staring at the screen.

"Oh God."

"Everything OK?" Buffy questioned, eyes beginning to glaze over as she spoke.

The nurse looked at her, fear flashing in her eyes, but a broad, comforting grin forced across her face. "You're fine. Just rest and I'll be back to check on you in a bit."

The nurse sped from the room, leaving the rest in a confused, but mostly unconcerned, disarray.

Xander settled at the far end of the bed, letting Emma disentangle herself and scoot back up the blankets next to her mother. They both looked exhausted. Like they had had too much. Always too much, Xander thought.

"Listen, Buff," Xander began. "I was thinking that since you'll be in here a few days, I could go to the house and finish with the kids' room for you. You know, clear it out, finish the border, get the crib back out and try to make it roomy enough for the both of them. I was thinking that we could knock the wall back into the storage.."

"Xander," Buffy interrupted, smiling softly. "It's not your fault."

The boy looked trapped, staring at her quiet, tired eyes. "I just thought that..."

"The help would be great. But I don't blame you for today. For what happened. It just... I guess it was time."

Willow looked at Xander, nodding, and then turned her head to Buffy. She smiled warmly. Amazing how they could all be grown-ups when they tried.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you like that," Xander commented, his head dropping.

"Probably not," Buffy chuckled. "But I would have been upset too. I would've told you but..."

"Spike explained," Xander interrupted. "I get why you didn't."

"It wasn't my place to say," Buffy continued, her hand aimlessly toying with Emma's blonde ringlets.

"Well, everything turned out all hugs and puppies. Or should I say babies," Willow chimed in, smiling at them both.

Buffy grinned, thinking about the little blue bundle. Wanting to see him again. "Yeah," she whispered. "It did, didn't it?"

*****

Spike sped down the hallway, skidding to the entrance door to the ICU. The sirens were louder. He yanked the door. Locked. Takina had a pass card. Where the hell was she? He asked himself. His fist pounded into the door. A commotion bustled on the other side, but no one answered.

"Spike?" It was Giles. His voice was low. Full of... torture. It came from around the corner. Spike spun, bolting in the general direction of the voice.

Giles stood a few feet back from the viewing window, eyes wide, hands clasped into a white-knuckled knot in front of him. Spike studied him, his pace slowing. Then he turned to face the glass.

Doctors, nurses, crowded around the incubator. Lights flashing. Alarms blaring. Carts with digital displays and monitors blinking and frantic people shuffling around the room.

"It's not him," Spike muttered, walking towards the glass. "He's just fine."

"Spike." Giles voice was anguished, watching the doctors work on an unseen child. All that he could make out was the corner of a blue blanket and a sign. One with yellow balloons.

The Vampire pressed his hands against the glass, staring in, studying the scene. "S'not him," he said again, his voice beginning to tremble. "Just saw him. Buffy was holding him."

Giles stepped up next to him, watching Spike's eyes brim over and begin to spill. "Spike." It seemed to be the only word that his mouth could form.

A nurse ran to a phone on the wall, moving from Spike's view. The first thing he saw was the nametag. A yellow balloon. A face drawn on it. Little fangs. His name. His son.

The crowd shifted, moving the child to a table no bigger than a TV tray. Spike caught a glimpse of the little boy. Tiny. Perfect.

Still.

Completely still.

A doctor turned, eyeing the blonde man with his hands pressed to the glass. The men staring in with wide-eyed horror at the unmoving child. Quickly, he blocked the view from the window as the tears began to spill. "Jesus! Somebody get the window," the doctor's voice shouted. The nurse at the phone rushed to the glass, yanking the blinds down with a clatter.

Nothing.

Spike stood, unmoving, fingers splayed against the cold window. Eyes trained to where they'd last seen him. The Watcher blinked, turning to face him.

"Rupert?" Spike's voice was shaking. Detached. His eyes still straight ahead. "Tell me that wasn't William."

"Spike," Giles repeated, putting a hand on the Vampire's shoulder. Spike shrugged him away.

"Tell.Me.That.Wasn't.My.Son.," Spike snapped, his head swinging round to face the Watcher, eyes glaring, face cold as stone.

"We don't know what's happening, Spike," Giles reasoned, his eyes betraying his fear.

"Tell me," Spike whispered, his anger dropping. "Please."

Giles looked away. "I can't."

Spike fell to a knee on the floor, his head buried in his hands. Giles watched his body tremble as the sobs took him. "Tell me it's not my son!" He begged.

Giles lowered himself to the floor in front of Spike, putting his hands on Spike's shoulders. "It *was* William. But we don't know what..."

Spike's eyes rose to meet Giles'. The Vampire looked desperate. Lost. "Buffy." It came out as a sigh. A terrible wail contained inside a word that was barely a sound.

Giles looked away, blinking back his own emotion. When he could look back, the Vampire had fallen back on his heels, rocking, sobbing. "Let's... let's find out what's going on first, alright? Then we'll talk to Buffy. I'll be with you, Spike. Alright?"

Spike never looked up. "He can't *die*, Rupert. Can't. Won't let it happen."

"One thing at a time, Spike," Giles responded, sitting down next to him on the cold tile. "We need to be strong. Talk to the doctors."

"He can't *die*!" Spike's voice was primal. Full of fear and rage.

Giles rested his hand on Spike's shoulder once again. "One moment at a time."

*****

Willow and Xander walked into the waiting area, a napping Emma sprawled along Xander's chest, her head lolled on his shoulder. Dawn looked up, watching them walk into the room. "Buffy OK?"

"They gave her some painkillers. She's sleepin'," Willow responded, flopping onto a chair next to Tara.

"They give Emma some too?" Tara snarked, squeezing her lover's hand.

"No, but she's drowning me in drool all the same," Xander joked, sitting delicately in the chair next to Willow.

"Want me to take her?" Tara asked, holding out her arms towards Xander. Tara had become like a second mother to the tot, sitting for her almost every night. One day, she hoped Willow and she could figure out which way they wanted to go for one of their own.

"Nah," Xander sighed. "This is kinda nice." The little girl nuzzled into his shirt and whimpered in her sleep. He found himself brushing her hair back with his fingers and studying her as if she were a beautiful little foreign creature.

Willow shot him a weary glance. "Don't be giving off the daddy vibe already."

"No!" Xander responded. "One day, but.. hello, issues."

The door from the outer hall slowly opened. Riley Finn came in, looking around, tentatively stepping over the threshold as if to avoid a landmine. "Hi," he said, a small wave at the group against the far wall.

"Uh... hi," Willow responded, stiffening almost imperceptibly.

"Didn't think *you'd* be coming back," Dawn commented, inspecting the back of her hands.

Riley walked into the room, confidant now that no cheesed off Vampires were waiting in ambush. He crouched down in front of them, looking up at Dawn. "I'm sorry I upset Buffy, OK? I didn't mean to. That's not why I came."

"Yeah, but... I hate to ask this, Riley, but why *are* you here?" Xander asked, trying to be polite, but somewhere needing to know.

Riley sighed, rocking back on his heels. "I'm stationed here now. The unit I work for has assigned me to protect the girl." He nodded at the child now spilled across Xander's lap.

"Emma?" Willow stuttered, toying with the little girl's shoe.

"Yeah," Riley answered softly, leaning his gaze towards Willow. "I'm just here to help."

"Spike is *not* going to like this," Dawn warned. "I mean, he and Buffy... you don't get any closer that that. But you hurt her. And to him, this is all happening because you're here. To me too."

"I know," Riley sighed, looking back at the teen. He fell back onto the floor, drawing his legs to his chest. "I guess I'll just have to prove to both of you that I mean to help."

Xander chuckled. "You remember Spike, right? Grudge, much?"

"I heard he's changed," Riley commented, his bright eyes gleaming up at the boy.

"Well, yeah, what with the whole breathing, heartbeat-y, fathering children, mortal, thing," Xander commented. "But he's still... Spike."

Riley's eyes shot open. "Spike's a mortal?"

"Looks that way," Willow contributed. "But the whole One thingy... you know bout that?"

Riley nodded. "Yeah. Had to take Mystical Peacemaker History 101 for the mission," he joked.

Willow smiled. "Who knows what that really means to them? I mean they're both *mortal*, but their soul is not and it gives them all sorts of freaky powers. Maybe it makes them *less* mortal than most. We really don't know."

"Hunh," Riley commented. "What kind of powers?"

"Freakish strength and speed. Well, more freakish than before. And healing. And the whole mind thing," Xander contributed.

"Mind thing?" The soldier questioned, his eyebrows quirked.

"They can feel each other," Dawn answered. "I think it's kind of romantic."

"Feel each other?"

As Riley questioned them, Tara noticed it. Like Riley wasn't... right. It wasn't just the interrogation, but a weird, itchy, feeling in the back of her mind. Like his aura was off or his essence had shifted. She tried not to stare at him, or look at him at all for that matter, but it nagged her. Burning. Doubt.

"Yeah. Like pain, pleasure. They can give and take it from each other from anywhere," Dawn continued.

Riley blushed. "I bet that has some handy uses."

"I *so* didn't want to go there," Xander commented, crinkling his nose.

Riley looked at them. "So they have this whole happy family thing going on. Who'd a thunk it?"

"Strange, but true," Willow chuckled. "Like *perfect* happy. Well, other than the constant demon onslaught and the regular attempts on their lives and the lives of the kid...s. But they got the whole 'I love you, you love me' Barney-ness happening."

"Good," Riley commented, smiling his wholesome, blinding grin. "I'm glad for her. Hopefully, she'll let me help on the whole attempt on their lives bit."

"Hard sell," Xander commented. "And you'll have to go through Spike on it. Buffy most definitely wears the pants, but she listens to him. Trusts his judgment."

"Now, things *have* changed," Riley answered, nodding and chuckling. "Buffy I knew wouldn't listen to anyone but her gut."

"Well, sharing a soul puts the whole wavelength thing in synch," Dawn commented, annoyed with the entire conversation.

"Then I guess I had better talk to Spike," Riley sighed, standing. "Explain that I'm an old married man just doing my job."

"How is Sam?" Willow asked, a smile breaking across her kind face.

"Great," Riley blushed, shuffling his feet. "I'll bring her by sometime."

"Good," Willow answered, still grinning.

Riley looked at them closely, his honest face serious and concerned. "Are...are we OK?"

Xander shrugged. "Yeah, I mean you are here to protect Emma, right?"

"Absolutely." Riley's face shone in pride and dignity, a big toothy grin spreading across his features.

"Then we're good," Willow commented.

"Good," Riley answered, his shoulders dropping in relief. "Mind if I wait here with you guys for Spike?"

"Uh, sure," Willow answered, gesturing to the chairs on the far side from Emma. *We* may be OK, but Spike will *not* be, she thought. Riley sat, folding his hands in his lap, and waited.

*****

"There you are," Anya chimed, breezing into the ICU waiting room. Cyrus appeared at her heels. "I thought you were going to... Hey," she continued, her tone becoming concerned. She sank down in the chair next to Giles. "What's wrong?"

Giles stared at his knees, holding back tears. "Anya, I'm afraid... I'm afraid something's happened to William."

"What's gone wrong?" Cyrus asked, his brow crinkling with concern. He sat in the chair on the opposite side of Giles, watching his old friend study the floor.

"We... we don't know," Giles stuttered. "But from what we saw, it's quite serious."

"We?" Anya questioned, terror creeping into her tone. "Where's Spike?"

Giles raised his head, scanning the room. The Vampire had disappeared. "I suppose he needed a moment alone. To collect himself. He was worried about Buffy..."

"Men," Anya huffed, standing. "The last thing he needs is a *moment*. The last thing he needs is *alone*."

The Watchers looked up at her, both confused and enlightened. "Well.." Giles began.

"Think of it like this. Stressed out, fangy super guy on a hair trigger who's had about the baddest of bad days *and* who has no idea if his newborn son is alright. How would you feel?" She gushed.

"Upset, of course," Giles responded, eyes wet and tired.

"And how do upset Vampires act?" Anya questioned, looking at two of the most educated men she had ever met as if they were thick.

"Violent," Cyrus answered like a child in class.

Anya spun, heading for the door. "Where are you going?" Giles called after her.

"To find Spike. Stay here and see if you can get some information on William," she responded, pushing open the doors.

"What if he's..." Cyrus stuttered.

"Vengeance Demon. I can get ugly," Anya answered without looking back. She disappeared through the doorway.

*****

Somehow, she knew that when she found him, he wouldn't be violent. On the contrary, he'd probably be a big, mushy, mess. Like the night Buffy had jumped from the tower. No one had noticed him them. Except her. And maybe Tara. But that was the night Anya realized that Spike was truly, madly, deeply in love with Buffy, and that Xander was not with her.

He was sitting on the floor, legs curled up to his chest, hands gripping his shins. He was parked across from the closed viewing windows, like a child expecting a Christmas display. Blankly staring at shaded glass. Waiting.

"Hey," Anya said, smiling softly as she approached. She proffered a soda that she'd grabbed on her way past the vending machine. Always good to have a peace offering.

Spike looked up at her, taking her offering and setting in on the floor beside him. His face was still. The kind of still one only shows when trying desperately to cover it all. Unnatural, pained, quiet. "Thank you."

"Sure," Anya answered, sliding down onto the floor next to him. She sat cross-legged, staring quietly at the glass. It was up to him to choose what he needed. Maybe just sitting was what he wanted.

It seemed like hours before he spoke, eyes never moving from the curtained windows. "What do I tell her?" His voice wavered almost imperceptibly.

"She was asleep when I left," Anya commented, her voice quiet and gentle. "So you don't tell her anything yet."

Spike looked over at her, eyes tender and full of tears begging to be spilled. But he held fast. "And when she wakes up?"

Anya sighed, staring into the fathomless blue of his eyes. "I don't know. You don't know until the doctors tell you what happened."

"You know," he began quietly. "You know she won't understand." His voice faltered. "I don't understand. Why him? I mean, of all of us, he's the innocent."

She took his hand, holding it gently. "Not everything has a reason. Not everything is all prophesied and supernatural. Sometimes... sometimes regular bad things happen."

"Hasn't she had enough?" The words pushed him over the edge. The dam broke and his eyes spilled over sending silvery trails down his cheeks.

"You both have," Anya answered. She chuckled, nervously. "We all have."

Spike squeezed her hand gently, nodding, then letting her go. "I just don't.. What do I say?"

"There's no good answer, Spike," Anya whispered, playing with the hem of her jeans. "Unless the doctors come out and say that it was all a giant mistake and William is hunky dory, then none of it will be easy. But," she sighed, shifting, "We don't know what they'll say. So you can't decide what to tell her yet."

Spike was silent for a long moment. "Do you think he's dead?" His eyes traveled back to the blackened window. He tried to still himself again, but he could feel his heart shattering, spilling hurt and anger and grief into his blood.

"I don't know," Anya answered. "I'd like to think that they'd have been able to tell you that by now. That it's something else. But I don't know."

Spike nodded, tired eyes still focused straight ahead. "Funny, us. Two of us are already dead and it's the one thing we fear most."

"It's not," Anya corrected. He turned his gaze to her, questioning her. "Loss is. You and I have both been willing to die for them. But losing them isn't an option. Even the ones we barely know."

Spike smiled softly. "You're a pretty smart bird sometimes."

"I try," she answered, returning the grin. "Should've learned something in over a thousand years of existence. Do they make a t-shirt for that?"

A door opened somewhere down the hall. Giles' voice ran out, echoing against the cold, sterile walls. "Spike?"

"Yeah," he called back, standing. Spike lowered a hand to Anya, helping her to her feet.

"The doctors are ready to talk to you now."

Spike looked at Anya. "Not sure if I can do this, Pet." His eyes flickered, his hands trembling at his sides.

She laid a hand on his forearm, urging him forward. "We'll be with you, alright?"

Spike nodded and stepped towards the door.

To be contd.

Good evening, All:)

Well, better late than never. Unfortunately, I had to work late this evening, which delayed this release a few hours. But it is here.

The bad news is that it is angsty. Unless you like angst. Then more good news:)

This is another flash forward chapter. To make it *very* clear, the end of this chapter is *not* the end of this book, this story, and maybe not even the true future for our boy William. It is merely another possibility, like that visited in The Poet. It is a *far* different look at the "normal" child of a Vampire and a Slayer.

Please let me know what you think. I do hope you like this little glimpse into the future.

Next chapter will be out on Saturday. Promise:)



*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue

"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Buffy, and a widdle Spike, and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002

Title: Bad Boy (Time - Chapter Fourteen)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (with, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Set immediately after Beggars, in another time. William is still caught in the spell of Time and is doomed to repeat his life as it might be. But is this how it's meant to happen? Is this what will happen to his family when all is said and done?



Bad Boy

Daggers of light. Like pointed comets stabbing at the night. Flashing, firing, angry points of light. There was nothing peaceful. Never was. Never will be. Nothing beautiful. Only them. Dad's girls. Sucker.

Bam, he hit the floor with a thud.

Piercing, little blue eyes stared up from a little handsome face. She stood over him, hands on girlish hips, proud and pretty and already a thorn in his child-sized behind.

He pushed himself up, wobbling on little legs, glaring at her all the while. Her eyes met his in a torrent of blue. The same, deep cerulean flashing between them like some unknown code. That's all he could see as he hurtled towards her, tossing his tiny frame against her legs and knocking her to the carpet.

"No pushing," he said, very clearly, his tone amazingly strong for such a little thing.

"Will, stop being a bully," Emma huffed, pushing him off her legs.

"You first!" He angrily responded, face red with fury.

"*You* took Bunny," she answered, propping herself on her elbows and glancing down at the floor where he'd tumbled.

"Mine!" He growled, contorting his face and glaring at her.

"Dad!" Emma screamed, trying to wrestle the rabbit from Will's clutches. Their father simply didn't appear fast enough. "Dad!"

Footsteps pounded up the stairs, followed by a softer set from down the hall. They always ran. It was like they had to save the world or something.

Emma looked up and saw her father's frame in the doorway. Her hands were still wrapped around the bunny, trying to wrench it away. William looked up as well, catching sight of his mother shadowed behind their dad. Cue the waterworks.

William wailed as if his heart had been wrenched from his chest. "Mmmmooooommmmmyyyy!"

Buffy ducked under Spike's arm, running to the boy and scooping him up from the floor. "What's wrong, baby?"

Emma sat up, humphing at the scene.

"Emmy push me!" He wailed as Buffy stroked his damp blonde hair from his forehead tenderly.

"Emma?" Spike asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

The girl sighed. Her brother was *good*. "Well, he stole my bunny," she offered, looking down. Spike crouched to her eye level, pulling her face gently to his.

"You shouldn't push him round, Mite," her father said softly. "He's your blood."

"He's only four, Emma," Buffy contributed, trying to hush the baby curled against her.

Emma sighed again. "Sorry mum." She looked over to her father with wide, innocent eyes. Will was too good at this. Devious little snitch. She'd bide her time for now. "May I please have Bunny back?"

Spike gathered the girl up, standing. "Think that's fair."

Buffy shot him a glance questioning how he planned on extricating said rodent from hysterical, bouncing child. Spike shrugged, winking. Slowly, he and Emma walked towards them.

"Will?"

The boy turned, eyeing his father with wet, angry eyes. "Think you've something that belongs to your sis."

William hitched in his mother's arms, letting his head fall against her shoulder. "I want him," he sobbed.

Gently, Spike pulled the rabbit from the boy's grip. "Now, what does a big man like you want with his sister's girl... stuff?" Spike asked. Buffy grinned, shaking her head. "Getting to be big now. Maybe we ought to take Pony out instead."

William looked up at his mother as if requesting permission to stop clinging. "Want to go out and play?" Buffy asked, soothing him with her voice, her gentle hands. Emma rolled her eyes. William nodded shyly.

Buffy set the little boy on the floor. He stared up her, those endless blue eyes the same as his father's. Didn't help he was dressed in a clone- like outfit. Auntie Dawn thought that one funny when she'd bought it for his birthday. Last Buffy had heard, a little leather jacket was on order.

Spike kissed Emma's cheek, studying her pretty, ageless face. "Better, Mite?"

"Will you ask him to stay out of my things?" Emma negotiated, capturing her father's gaze and melting him in precisely the manner her mum did. He set her gently on the floor.

"That I will," he answered, stroking her hair. "Help your mum a bit? Then we can watch your video later."

Emma looked satisfied with the trade and glanced over at Buffy, smiling. God, they're alike, Spike thought as Emma backed up against her mother's legs, nodding.

"Exciting world of laundry, or we can make dinner?" Buffy asked, playing with the girl's hair.

"Laundry!" Both Emma and Spike snapped a little too quickly. Buffy smirked at them both.

"I'll pick up a pizza, Love," Spike continued, kissing Buffy's nose. "Ready to go do manly things?" He joked, grabbing William's tiny hand. The boy looked up, eyes glinting. Boy had that down, Spike thought.

"Ready," William repeated, clutching his father's fingers. Little did he know that he'd fall asleep before they ever made it to the park.

*****

The points of light were stabbing him. Prodding like electric shocks from a cattle prod. Flying at him. Stinging like poisoned fireflies in the night air. William thudded to the ground in a heap against the wall.

"Got to anticipate the next move," Spike said, lending a hand to his son. Will grabbed it, pulling himself to his feet indignantly.

"How was I supposed to see *that* coming?"

"Think a sodding demon gives you a bloody combat manual and a few minutes to peruse it? Spike huffed, assuming fighting stance.

"Will, you did *really* well," Emma chimed, sitting indian style against the wall. She was sixteen now and breathtaking. The spitting image of their mum, but taller, more stately, and with blue eyes as soothing as the summer sky.

"Thanks, Em, but should be able to knock the old man on his arse," Will panted.

Emma chuckled. "You're thirteen, Will. He's like what... four million?"

Spike smirked over at his daughter. "One hundred seventy four," Spike responded. "Give or take. And to those people at the school..."

"I know, I know. Forty four," Emma sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're still the man, Dad."

Spike quirked an eyebrow. "Tell your mum."

"Think she already knows," Emma smiled. "You know with the whole big blinky eyes and come hither stares..."

"Now wait a *minute*, Mite," Spike huffed, about to launch into a diatribe about what she should and should not notice about her parents fondness of each other.

"Can we get back to training?" Will interrupted, rushing at Spike. Spike parried, letting his son land several solid blows, some of which actually stung, before leaping over the pommel horse and out of the boy's way.

"Now *that* was better," Spike smiled, proudly.

"Bit of the old man in me yet," William stated, eyes gleaming as he came at Spike once again. The boy may not have his parents prophesied gifts, Spike thought, but he fought with a fire that he hadn't seen in many humans. Even at such a young age.

William spun, kicking, finally missing his mark and throwing himself back on the mat with a crash. The boy lay dazed, the back of his head pounding where it struck cement.

"Bloody hell," Spike murmured, running to the boy. "Will, you alright? Emma, grab your mum and an icepack."

*****

They hurt. No doubt about it. The stupid, sodding, sharp little stars careening through the black air and brushing against him like salted razors. The landing wasn't getting any easier either, he thought as he found himself sprawled on the shower floor.

He got up, wrapping a towel around his waist and headed into the locker room. Really, it had been a good day, he came to remember. It wasn't often that a freshman made the Varsity soccer team. Suppose all the extra training had come to some good use.

"Have you even *seen* the Windsor girl? Dude, what I wouldn't do to get inside that tight little..." Will heard as he rounded the corner to the line of lockers. A senior boy was leaned against a locker across from his own, surrounded by a group of poncy, little friends.

"What was that?" William interrupted, unfamiliar with the older boys. Football players. Yeah. And the loudmouth was the quarterback.

"Dude, the Windsor girl," the senior boy said again, turning towards William. "She's *fine*. I heard she gives it up too. And there's a rumour that her parent's are all freakish superheroes or something so she can do things with her..."

"Who are we talking about?" William asked again, his blood beginning to boil in his veins. Just wanting to clarify before the fun began. Slowly, he slid on his jeans, watching the senior. Waiting for an answer. The boy strutted like a peacock in front of his friends.

"Windsor, man. Emma. Haven't you seen her? That is one *sweet* piece of as..."

Before the football player could finish the sentence, William had made contact with a left hook, firmly planted against the boy's jaw, sending the little quarterback flying into the steel lockers and sliding down to the floor. Will straddled his slumped, wide-eyed form. "Pleased to meet you. William Windsor. And that's my sodding *sister*." Another crushing blow, this time to the senior's eye. "That you are talking about."

"Man, I'm sorry, " the footballer whimpered, shielding his face.

"Don't *ever*," William continued, kicking the boy's kidney, "Talk about her like some trivial piece of meat again." Another bare foot to the quarterback's side. The boy whimpered, curling into a ball. "Or I might just have to rough you up."

"I.... I didn't know," he stuttered.

"Should thought bout that before you mouthed off," Will growled, landing a final blow against the boy's ribs. "Have a little respect for the lady." He didn't realize it at the time, but he was grinning. Will was happily pounding the boy into the floor without thought.

Slowly, he backed a way, a flash of disgust mixing with the anger shaping his features. The quarterback stumbled to his feet, bolting to the door. His friends stood staring in shock at the freshman standing barefoot and shirtless in front of them, grin on his face and blood on his hands.

"What?" William exclaimed, throwing his hands out to the sides. "Got something you'd like to add?"

"Dude, you're whacked," one of the remaining boys responded, scampering out of the room.

"Stay away from my blood, then," William mumbled to himself, plopping down on the bench. His aching, angry head fell into his hands."

*****

They felt like daggers now. White hot, speeding through space. Didn't matter much. Not like he could be any more brassed off with the lot that life had dealt him. Dealt them. Only way to deal with it was to be a man. Take the pain. Turn it round and use it against whoever crossed his path.

"Ouuugh," he grunted as he was pushed onto his back, landing hard on the mattress.

She slapped a hand over the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "Will, why the hell do you *do* that?"

"Told you not to call me that, Pet," William smirked, biting the inside of his cheek and making those perfect cheekbones all the more prominent.

"Look, you can call me the Queen of England and it doesn't make it so," the girl snarked, lying naked and spent on the sheets. He rolled over, grabbing a cigarette from the bedside table and lighting it. The smoke and scent of tobacco filled the room. Living on his own had its advantages. He'd moved out on his eighteenth birthday. The six months of freedom from *them* had been bliss.

"Don't see you complaining bout the services rendered," he smiled, running a long finger down the valley between her breasts. She sighed, letting a small smile play on her lips.

"Will... Edge.. Whatever.. Just.. what is it with the biting? You may live alone, but I have to go home and explain to my father why I have the mother of all hickeys..."

"Claming you, Pet," William answered. "Making you mine."

"Do you even know what that means?" River asked, sitting up, completely comfortable in her nudity and his. Not your normal eighteen year old girl. Then again, she'd known everything. Everything about his parents. His sister. Still she stuck around. Never serious. Mostly, nights like this where they screwed with reckless abandon and then didn't talk for weeks. But only River got it. Only she understood. "You're not a Vamp, Will. Your mom would.."

"Leave my bloody mother out of this," William huffed. The facade was all he had. He needed to be him. Needed to be the man his father had been. The demon. He hopped out of bed, strutting naked across the floor. "Dad had it straight before... she made him soft."

River sighed. "Your father was a killer before her."

William humphed, heading out to the kitchen and swinging open the refrigerator door. "Got the job done. Fiercest of all the dark warriors," he called, rummaging for a Gatorade. Emma came over with groceries twice a week. And to make sure he hadn't gone off and lived out his little Vampire fantasies. William wouldn't listen to his mum anymore. But somehow, Emma could always get through.

"And that's what you want?" River called back. He reappeared in the bedroom doorway, looking over at her.

"Thought you liked me this way, Pet," he snarked. He *was* glorious, backlit by the kitchen light. A little taller than his father, his hair a sandy brown and mussed in a bed head of curls. Rippled muscles under smooth tanned skin. Those perfect blue eyes.

"I like *Will*," she sighed. "The one who buys his sister flowers because it's Friday and who *used* to help his mom cook dinner and take the dog for walks with his dad."

"Fraid he's dead," William answered, taking a swig of his drink. "Nothing but grief being a good guy."

River studied him a moment. "Will, what happened to your father was an accident," she whispered, walking over to him. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, toying with the soft hairs on the nape and pressing herself against him.

"No bloody accident," William snapped, pushing her away. "Demon killed him because they made him soft. So, mum rolls over and gives up. Emma's trying to save the bloody world. And for what?"

River looked at Will wide-eyed. "I dunno. For.... ice cream and sunshine and... mind blowing sex?"

William chuckled, his hand pressed against the small of her back. "Don't care much for the former anymore. The latter, however..." he growled, backing her towards the bed.

A sudden, shrill beep filled the room as he toppled River back to the sheets. He tried to ignore it, spending his energy burying all of his anger in her. But the sound went on and on until finally he scrambled to the bedside table, picking up the small, silver phone.

"What?" William growled into the receiver.

"William?" Buffy's voice trembled into the phone.

"Not interested," Will answered, pulling the phone away from his ear.

"Don't hang up!" She screamed. Slowly, he pulled the phone back to his ear. "They've got her. Emma," Buffy choked.

"Where?" Will asked, crawling off the girl and searching the floor for his jeans.

"I'm headed to the alley off Ninth and Cedar."

"I'll handle it," William snapped, grabbing a black T-shirt from a pile on the chair.

"Look," Buffy retorted, annoyed. She was panting, running. Always running. "I don't really care anymore that you blame me for what happened to.. what happened to Spike. But I loved him. And I love her. And you. And I'm still the goddamn Slayer so don't begin to tell me where *not* to go. I thought you might want to help."

The phone was silent. The line went dead. He stared at it a moment, then pulled the aged black duster from the back of the desk chair.

"Where you going?" River asked, pulling the sheet up to her chest.

"Little pre-coital violence, Pet. Keep it warm. Be back," he gushed, disappearing out the door.

*****

When he found the alley, his mother and his cousin were the only ones standing. Bodies lay in heaps along cement walls. Bleeding. Wounded. Dead. Poor souls. Probably better off where you are now, he thought, grabbing a sword from his Uncle Xander's ashen, limp hand.

Emma hovered above the pavement, wrapped in white light. Bird had always been beautiful, but when she got all Peace-d out, she was a veritable angel. She looked at him, terror and relief in her eyes. Tears streaming.

Buffy had a broad sword, hacking at the lapping darkness that seeped up from the wounded ground. She seemed to be holding them, but not doing much to actually kill them off. The boy fighting next to her just looked afraid.

For a moment, he thought, should've been me at her side. For that matter, should've been dad. But both of them had left her, in one way or another. Dad died trying to save her. William ran away. Now she was the One. All alone.

And even the One couldn't kill the darkness.

Without thinking, Will rushed at the scene, primal roar of rage and anger, sword thwacking at dark tendrils as they grabbed at him. Buffy looked over, catching his eyes for just a moment, and smiled.

He'd forgotten how beautiful she was. How much he loved her.

She'd forgotten how much her baby looked like his dad.

A scream pierced the night and the boy on her left was pinned to the wall, a misty black tendril jammed through his heart. The colour drained from his face. "Oh, God," Buffy whispered, her hand slapping over her mouth.

Will stared a moment, the fear turning quickly to anger. Anger becoming rage. Rage, blind fury. He blindly hacked at the darkness, working his way towards Emma. Buffy regained her composure and began towards Emma from the opposite direction. Surrounding their blood. Protecting the girl.

One creature broke their perimeter and Buffy turned to drive it back. It caught her ankle, pulling her to the pavement. She began to slide, sucked down into the Earth.

"Mum!" Will screamed, dashing towards her, grabbing her hand. She held on, terror gleaming like blood in her pretty green eyes.

"Will," she whispered, staring up at him. Etching him into her memory.

"Hold on," Will urged, his own tears beginning to spill.

"Will, they've got her," Buffy whimpered. "Help her."

William's head spun and the darkness spiraled around his sister. Taking her light. Emma looked at them, helpless.

"Mum, I can't leave you here," William argued, turning back towards his mother.

She smiled, closing her eyes. "I love you."

"Dad wouldn't have left you here," the boy cried desperately.

Her eyes opened again, wet and settled, accepting her fate. "Yes," she sighed, "He would." With that, she let go, falling into the black abyss.

William sat wide-eyed, stunned. She was gone. Like that. Like dad. Gone. He couldn't save them.

Emma. Oh God.

William turned, grabbing the sword and running towards Emma, hacking back the darkness as if they were black vines. She was disappearing. Her light fading into the walls, the concrete.

"Emma!" William screamed, struggling towards him.

Her eyes focused on him and she reached out her hands. Will leapt, trying to grab them, feeling her skin brush his.

But instead of catching her, he felt his weight thump against the empty pavement. Darkness seething everywhere. William scrambled to his feet again, but she was gone.

Nothing left.

They were all gone.

To be contd.

Title: Dreaming (Time - Chapter Fifteen)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (with, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Set simultaneously to Bad Boy. The doctors tell Spike what they know about William's condition. Anya and Giles try to help him hold things together. Anya tells the rest of the SG what has happened, while Spike is forced to deliver more bad news to Buffy. Takina reappears and offers to help. But is it Takina? And is she really helping?

Dreaming

The 'Conversation Room', as the doctor euphemistically referred to the claustrophobic space, was cheerfully painted in palest pink with soothing paintings and comfortable chairs. Spike followed the doctor into the room, Giles and Anya just behind him. Cyrus remained in the waiting room in case any of the rest of them came down to visit William.

"Mr.. Windsor?" The doctor asked, shutting the door behind them and offering his hand. Spike nodded, taking the gesture. "Dr. Lawrence. Would you like to have a seat?"

Giles and Anya sat down on an overstuffed cream couch, clinging to each other's hands. God, I want her here, Spike thought. Want to hold her hand. Want to feel better or worse with her by my side. "Rather stand." Spike responded.

The doctor eyed him cautiously, then settled into a chair facing the Vampire. Giles thought to convince Spike to sit, but decided that he was within arms reach and there was no point in arguing over little things.

"I'm not sure where to begin," the doctor stated, his kind face strained and tired. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

"Is he alive?" Spike asked, bluntly.

A startled look crossed the man's face, his eyes opening wide. "No one told you?" He gasped.

"Told us *what*?" Giles asked, his fingers winding nervously through Anya's.

"I asked the ward nurse to come out here when..."

"Told.Us.What.?" Spike enunciated, trying to remain calm.

"He's alive. His vital signs are... almost normal," the doctor blurted. Spike slumped back against the wall in relief. But the fear crept up his spine at the same time. The nagging doubt. The proverbial 'But'.

"You said 'almost'," Anya pointed out, her face confused and concerned.

Here it comes, Spike thought.

"William is... he seems to be doing well. His heart. His lungs. Blood pressure. Normal for a premature infant less than a day old. They spike and fall once in a while. Like he's dreaming. But oherwise...," the doctor prattled on.

Spike looked at him, recognizing the smell of fear almost immediately.

"But?"

The doctor stared at the floor, shuffling his feet. Finally, he raised his eyes to Spike. "But he won't wake up."

"What do you mean?" Giles asked, his own impatience bubbling to the surface.

"A sort of.. a sort of coma is the best way I can describe it," Dr. Lawrence continued nervously.

"Suppose?" Spike growled. Anya's hand shot out, grabbing Spike's forearm, feeling his body tense. At her touch, he focused again, bring himself back to the conversation. Pushing his back to the wall.

"It's unlike anything we've seen before. No traumatic onset. No *physical* reason. But the child seems to be caught in REM sleep. Like one continuous dream that he can't wake from." The look on the doctor's face was genuine confusion.

"So, he's dreaming?" Anya questioned, one hand still wrapped in Giles', the other holding Spike's arm.

"Or nightmares," Spike muttered to himself. Giles shot a glance at the Vampire, questioning him, but leaving the subject be for the moment.

"Yes," the doctor responded.

"And there's nothing you can do to awaken him?" Giles asked. "A physical or chemical stimulant?"

"We've tried everything safe on a child in his state of development," Dr. Lawrence answered. "I've put in several calls to specialists, but I have no idea what's causing this. How long it might last."

"So, he may never wake up?" Spike asked, panic taking control.

"Spike," Giles sighed. "Don't give up so easily."

"Not giving up, but I need to know if that is a possibility," Spike snapped, turning from Giles back to the doctor. "So, is it?"

The doctor looked at Giles, then back to Spike. "It is. But it's equally possible that he could snap out of it on his own in a day, a week. We simply don't know."

The sound escaping Spike's lips was almost a chuckle. "Not helping much, Mate."

"I wish I could tell you more," the doctor replied, rising from the chair. He was tall. Gentle. Spike imagined he was good with the little ones. And he could also sense that this mattered to him. That William *mattered*. "What I can tell you is that I will do everything I can to help him."

Spike nodded, dropping his anger. "Please," he whispered. The doctor returned the nod.

As the tall man reached the door, he turned back. "Have you seen Dr. Noel? Takina? I was hoping she might have some insight into this. Maybe there's something I'm overlooking in regards to physiology that has to do with William's parentage."

Spike's brow furrowed. "Figured she was with you."

"No one has seen her since she brought William back to the ward." He sighed. "Well, if you see her, please ask her to contact me. I *have* to believe that there is something we can do."

"Thank you," Giles answered. Spike stood fast, trying to accept the honesty of the situation. Quietly, Dr. Lawrence slipped out.

Spike slouched into a chair, hands wringing, eyes swimming. "They don't bloody know."

"At least his vital signs are good, Spike," Giles commented. "If they can keep him stable, it buys them time to look for an answer."

Spike looked at the Watcher. "You think you could put in a few calls of your own, Rupert? Council medical division might have heard of this?," he asked, trying to breathe. Feeling the weight of it all crushing his chest.

"Of course," Giles answered. "And I'll have Xander search out Takina."

Anya winced almost imperceptibly, but settled as Giles' arm wrapped around her. " I can talk to the others," She said, bravely. Giles knew that this wasn't quite the easing into the fray that she had had in mind, but she was willing to do what she must.

"I would be grateful," Spike sighed. "But mind the Niblet. Make sure Tara's with her or wait to talk to her until Giles or I..."

"I'll handle it," Anya responded, smiling reassuringly. Spike closed his eyes, swallowing.

"Got to talk to Buffy," he whispered. "Don't know what to tell her."

Giles looked at him closely. "Spike, she's got quite a bit of healing to do herself. I agree she needs to know, but you may want to concentrate on the fact that physically, he's all right. That it's just a matter of time."

"Not necessarily true though, is it?" Spike questioned, his eyes heavy and wet.

"Nothing false about it. She needs to be strong again to help him. Help us find the answer. I'm not saying to omit the danger. Just make sure that she knows the positives as well. That he's alive. Strong."

Spike nodded. "Alright." Slowly, he stood. "I need to see her."

Anya patted his arm. "You should. Hang onto her as much as she hangs onto you. It'll make both of you feel better."

Again, Spike nodded. "Keep someone down here in case.."

Giles watched him, finishing the sentence. "Cyrus will stay in case he wakes up."

"Right then," Spike sighed, gathering his courage and his sanity. "Just let me know."

*****

Spike wasn't quite sure how he made it up the stairs, nor, for that matter, through the waiting room. The rest were there. Even the farm> boy. Whether or not they tried to speak with him, he couldn't say. Maybe the look on his face as he blew through was enough to back them off. Or maybe he just ignored them. All he knew was that he needed her. Even in good. Even in bad. He needed her.

For some reason, he found himself standing outside her door, tracing the letters of her name with his fingers. Buffy. Silly name, really. But it had come to be the most important word in any language, in any time. Buffy. Couldn't have been Elizabeth or Mary. Buffy. Always Buffy.

Slowly, he opened the door with a click and a small whoosh of air. It was dark. The shades drawn. Lights out except for the digital blink of monitors. They made him wince, thinking back to looking through the glass at William. But hers were quiet. Steady. He didn't need a million gadgets to tell him that her heart was pushing blood through her veins. Her mind was off exploring some land with blue skies and even bluer water and white sand. Needed to take her to the beach when this was all over, he thought. She dreamed of it all the time.

It amazed him how tiny she seemed as he approached the bed. He watched her as he kicked his boots to the floor. Pale eyelids fluttering against permanently golden skin. Little smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Dreaming.

When she had fallen asleep, there were countless things to dream about. Normal things. Pushing William in the swings Harris had put up out back. Watching Emma go to her first day of class. Dawn's college graduation. The next little one, whomever's it may be. Would Emma be a cheerleader? William a soccer player or a playwright?

And them.

Countless walks under countless moonlit skies. Battles fought and won side by side. Thousands of talks on porches front and back, and thousands more kisses that had turned into something so much greater. Arguing and fighting and sparring. Making love and having sex and shagging senseless until either the sun came up or a small voice needed attending. Didn't matter. Always tomorrow. Even in their lives, it seemed tomorrow always came. And no matter what the challenge, there was an opportunity for another walk, another talk, another kiss. Another moment tangled in each other.

As he stretched out next to her, she mewled in her sleep, pressing into his chest and nuzzling his shirt. The hard news could wait a little longer, he thought, brushing the stray hair from her face and kissing her lips with all the gentleness his love had to offer. Endless gentleness.

His arms wrapped gently around her and she smiled again. The tears began to fall from his eyes, knowing he'd have to be the one to take her smile away. Softly, he buried his face in her hair, clinging to her while she was the strong one.

"Sweet dreams, my love."

*****

"No," Dawn gasped, a hand slipping over her lips. Tara's arm wrapped around the girl, rubbing her shoulders.

"Did.. did they say what was wrong?" Willow asked, her face blanching. Xander clung to Emma, feeling himself tremble. Thankfully, the little girl was still fast asleep.

Anya shook her head, her face sincere. "No clue."

Tara was silent for a moment. "Most of the time, I'd say if you hear hoof beats in the forest, look for a horse rather than a zebra," she began. "But this *is* Buffy and Spike. And this is the child of a Vampire and a Slayer."

Willow turned to her lover, nodding. "So, maybe we should start looking for stripes."

"Not understanding," Xander mumbled, looking at the girls.

"Maybe, it's mystical," Anya answered, watching Xander with eyes full of fatigue and tenderness. "Maybe it's not just about him being premature."

Xander nodded, stroking Emma's hair. Watching Anya. She had changed.

Riley spoke up from the corner. "I'd like to help." All eyes turned to him. "I mean, I can call HQ and see if they know anything based on the symptoms."

Anya looked over at him. "Thank you. That would be great." She paused, turning her attention back to the rest. "Xander, Takina seems to have disappeared. The doctors have been trying to page her to see if she might have some insight into anything... physical,... that could cause this. Well, because Spike's still a Vampire. Could she have gone home or something?"

Xander looked concerned. "She always answers her pages. But... yeah, I mean, maybe she went home to change or something and accidentally left her pager here. I.. I can go look."

"Please," Anya answered softly.

Xander nodded, loosing Emma and handing her over to Dawn. Dawn was relatively calm, but quiet tears dripped down her face as she clutched Emma closer. Xander turned and left without another word.

"Willow?" Anya asked.

"Uh.. uh yeah?"

"Maybe you can gain access to the web since you're a student here. See if you can find anything?" It was Giles' idea and somewhere Anya thought it amusing that it was coming from the mouth of a thousand year old Vengeance Demon who was still frightened of CD players.

"Of.. of course," Willow answered. "Tara, do you want to..."

"Actually," Anya interrupted. "I need to borrow Tara."

"Borrow?" Willow asked.

Tara studied Anya closely. "You want to look for him," the shy witch mentioned, looking down at her knees.

Anya nodded slowly. "I have the power you need, but you have the focus. That's what separates witches.."

Dawn looked at them. "Look for him?"

Tara rubbed the teen's arm. "If this is.. mystical.. then whatever's causing it would leave traces of itself. Of the power that created it. I can see them with a spell. But it takes a lot of energy."

"And I am the power energizer bunny," Anya quipped. "Ooh. I can't believe I said that."

"Tara, that's dangerous," Willow gasped, knowing the battle was already lost. Tara just smiled at her reassuringly. "But.. I'd do it too. If I still could."

"What about me?" Dawn asked, her eyes flitting between the girls. "I mean, doesn't a portal need opening? Something? *Anything*?"

"You have the most important job," Anya said, trying to be as encouraging as she could.

"W... what?"

"Watch after Emma. And when Spike comes back out, they're both going to need you. And really, it's only you . You're Buffy's blood. She needs you," Anya continued, patting Dawn's knee.

Dawn swallowed, nodding. "O...OK."

Willow gently rubbed the teen's shoulder. "Dawnie, I'm just going to the lab and checking out a laptop. I'll come back and work up here with you, alright?"

Dawn's shoulders dropped in relief. "Th.. thank you."

"Sure." The redhead's smile was soft. Gentle.

Anya stood, facing Tara. "You ready?"

Tara rose from the chair, inhaling deeply. "Yeah. Let's find him."

*****

"Hey, sleepy," she muttered, looking up at his drowsy eyes as they flickered to life. "They give you the good stuff too?"

Spike smiled, scooting down so her eyes were level with his. "No, Pet." He paused, his palm on her cheek. "How are you feeling?"

Buffy squirmed uncomfortably. "OK. Feels like they took him out with a chain saw and barbeque tongs, but, pretty good all things considered." Her faint smile still spread across her coral lips.

His eyes closed involuntarily at the merest mention of him. Spike grappled with himself, trying to separate raw emotion from strength. "I'm glad, Pet. Can't stand you hurting. You know that."

"I know," she mouthed, creeping in closer against him. "So, what's on your mind?"

Spike tensed. "Not sure what you mean?"

Buffy chuckled. "One soul. Joined for all eternity. I think I know when something's bothering you. Besides, your eyes make you look like someone took your firstborn." She stiffened. "Emma's OK, right?"

"She's fine, Love," Spike soothed, his thumb running along her cheekbone. "Outside with a horde of sitters."

Buffy was quiet, pulling away enough to study his face again. The hurt and anger and fear and love. Her whole body became tight as wire. Her eyes filling with tears. "It's William, isn't it?"

"Buffy," Spike sighed, biting his lip. How the hell could he do this to her?, he asked himself.

"Spike," she snapped, her eyes brimming over. "Tell me."

He was silent, searching for the words. Her fists balled and he could feel her striking his chest feebly, but still the words escaped him. "Spike!" She wailed. "Please."

The terror in her voice snapped him back and her grabbed her fists, holding them tight. "Something's happened," he whispered, watching her heart break behind the green glass of her eyes.

"No," Buffy muttered. "He was here. We held him. He ... he was fine." Her voice trembled and shook at an even pace with her racing heart.

"I know love," Spike said softly. "Listen to me. He is alive. His body seems.. seems to be fine, Pet. But.."

"But what? But what?" She panicked.

Spike held her hands right against his chest. "He's... He won't wake up."

Buffy stopped, her eyes huge and wet and frightened. "What.. what do you mean?"

"The doctor said it's as if he's caught in dreams," Spike answered, trying to comfort her, say *anything* that would stop her heart from breaking.

"Dreams?" Buffy sighed. "Spike.. what if.. what if they're nightmares?"

Spike let go of one of her hands, running it over her cheek, tracing the contours of her jaw. "No way of knowing, Love. But he's not seen what we have. All he knows is what it is to be part of you. What dreams are made of."

Buffy looked up at him, afraid, knowing how hard he was trying to help her, but terrified that their baby would never come back. "What did the doctor say?"

Spike sighed, letting a long breath escape his lips. "Said he'll do everything he can. Giles is working on it with the Council too, Pet. > William'll find a way back. Or we will find him."

She broke, her body collapsing into his. Shaking. Crying. "Please don't let him die. Please."

"Never, Love," Spike whispered into her hair, planting a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

He held her, letting her pour her heart into his chest and praying he could hold it together long enough to do something. But all he could think of, all he could do as he laid there stroking her hair, was hope he didn't let her down.

*****

The door to the waiting room opened and Takina breezed through. At least it looked like Takina to Dawn, who was huddled in a chair holding Emma like one holds a stuffed toy for comfort. Dawn was rocking slightly. Almost imperceptibly. Her tears moving on to that dull, aching numbness.

"Dawn?"

The teen snapped out of it, looking up at the familiar doctor. "H...hi," she stuttered. "I think Xander a...and the doctors... are looking for you."

"I've just come up from the ICU," Takina answered sweetly, approaching the frightened girl.

"H..how is William?" Dawn's voice was thready. Nervous.

"We're working on it. For now, he's resting." She paused. "He'll be fine, Dawnie. We'll figure it out." Again, she stopped, now standing in front of the teen. "Spike talking to Buffy?"

"They've been in there a while. I guess... she's got to be losing it," Dawn answered, brushing a tear nervously from her cheek with the back of her hand.

"Maybe," Takina began softly. "Seeing this one would help them out. Remind them they have a reason to stay strong." The doctor ran a finger over the baby's tiny arm.

"Yeah," Dawn muttered. "Maybe. Do you think it would help?" The girl's eyes blinked, wet and tired.

"Couldn't hurt," Takina answered, smiling. She held out her arms. Dawn stood, gently handing the baby to the doctor. "You be alright for a while?"

"Yeah," Dawn whispered. "Willow's coming back."

"Good," Takina agreed, heading towards the door. "No one should be without their family at a time like this."

With that, the doctor disappeared through the door to the suites, Emma asleep in her arms.

To be contd.

Title: Abandoning the Cause (Time - Chapter Sixteen)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (with, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Set immediately following Dreaming. This is the third of four William flash forward chapters. A look into a possible future for the son of the Vampire and the Slayer. Will this path be the answer? If one can learn their potential fates, can one effect the outcome of their lives? William is about to learn another lesson in Time.



Abandoning the Cause

The lights were lazy now. Less sparkling. Less true. They bobbled past in blind anonymity, brushing him with annoying lackadaisical burns. The blackness was blacker. The lights dimmer. Bleak.

But the crash was all the same.

"Will?" It was a clear child's voice. Musical. Rich. "Will, you OK?"

Slowly, he opened teary, blue eyes and nodded from his spot on the floor. The girl walked over, scooping him up in gangly arms and setting him gently on his big boy bed.

"I fell," the boy said, shyly.

"Have a nightmare?" She asked, sitting down next to him. He nodded, his blond hair falling around his face. "They're not real, you know. Just bad dreams." She stroked his hair, trying to comfort the little boy. He seemed so... lost.

"Mommy dies," he said quietly, never looking at her. "And daddy." He didn't tell her that she died too. Even at four, he understood that it was just cruel.

"They're fine, Will," Emma comforted, ruffling his hair.

"Not now." His voice was distant. Cold. "Late."

Emma shuddered, the dragon of fear creeping up her spine. "No, they don't, Will," she gushed as if trying to convince herself. "Dad!" She screamed the last word. "Dad!"

Heavy footsteps barreled up the stairs, followed by a softer pair from down the hall. "Dad!" Emma screamed again.

"What? What is it, Mite?" Spike panted, appearing in the doorway as if from thin air.

Tears began to stream down her face. The little boy stared off at the wall, blankly. "Will... Will says that you're going to *die*! Tell him he's wrong, Daddy."

Spike walked into the room, sighing. Buffy followed, overhearing from the hallway. "Mite, we all do sooner or later," he answered, sitting on the edge of William's bed and pulling the little girl into his lap. "Gotta make room for the newer models."

Emma looked up at his face, wide-eyed as Buffy settled next to them, pulling the numb boy against her. Rocking him. "Not now?" The little girl pouted.

"No, Mite," Spike whispered, pushing a blonde curl from her eyes. "Stuck with us a while, yet."

Emma buried her face in her father's shirt, sobbing. Tears of fear. Tears of relief. Anything. Parents just didn't *die*.

"Will?" Buffy asked, pulling the boy away enough to see his face. He stared at her intently, listening. "Why do you think we're going to die?"

"B'coz the shadows," he answered, still caught in her green gaze.

"Shadows?" Spike asked, rubbing Emma's back to calm her.

"They're dark," William answered, clinging to his mother, his face cold and lifeless.

"Do you remember where? How?" Buffy asked, brushing his hair away from his face. The little boy shook his head.

"Mommy, it's dark there," he whispered, his eyes frightened but strangely detached.

"OK, baby," she answered, pulling him back against her chest. Buffy looked at Spike. Concern had spread across his features. Slayer dream inherited? Little boy's nightmare after accidentally seeing his mum and dad come home covered in demon blood? No way to tell. Not yet.

"Emma?" Spike questioned quietly. She lifted her head just enough to look up at him. "D'you think maybe Will could take a nap with your Bunny? Seems the bad dreams don't come then."

Emma looked over at her mother and the huddled form of her little brother, weighing the loss in her head. "Ok," she finally sighed. "But can I have him back before bed?"

"That you can, Mite," Spike answered, setting her on the floor. "Why don't you go fetch him and when you're back, I'll take you for ice cream."

Emma smiled through her tears. "You wanna talk to Mum?" She chuckled. "But I still want ice cream."

Spike smirked at her. "Go."

William still clung to Buffy as Emma trotted out of the room. "Nightmare?" Buffy mouthed over William's head. Spike shrugged, smoothing the boy's hair. William was strangely quiet. Still. "He's been having them a lot," Buffy continued wordlessly.

"We'll talk to the Watchers," Spike answered, no sound escaping his lips. "Will?" He asked, audibly this time.

The boy turned his head, staring up at his father. "You know we're not going anywhere, your mum and me. Alright?" Spike's face was sincere, hoping upon hopes that he could keep the promise he made to his son.

William nodded. "Late," he said softly. Spike's head titled, questioning him, but the little boy yawned and buried his head in the crook of Buffy's arm.

"Wanna nap, Slugger?" She asked, stretching out, still cradling the boy against her chest. "I'll stay with you."

Emma reappeared with the Bunny. The Slayer of childhood nightmares. Reverently, she handed it to her father. Spike leaned forward, sliding the little rabbit between William and Buffy. The boy's arms wound around the toy, settling him.

"Sleep well," Spike whispered, kissing Buffy's nose and ruffling William's blond mop. Emma grabbed his hand and led him out the door.

*****

They barely registered anymore. The lights. More like flickers in the darkness. Or maybe he just didn't care anymore. Not really. Not like they illuminated anything. Just there.

"Will?" A gentle voice chimed in his ear.

"Hunh?" He opened his eyes with a start, searching his surroundings. William had been asleep, leaned against a tree on the side of the school. A book sat open in his lap. Salinger.

"You need to sleep more at night," the girl joked, smiling and sitting down next to him. She may have been a freshman, a year his junior, but she had always been his equal. Always saw him. About the only person he had nothing against. "Still having nightmares?"

"Did I ever stop?" William asked, grabbing an apple from her bag lunch and helping himself.

"Guess not," she chuckled. "And feel free to eat my snacks." He smiled at her, those perfect, glittering blue eyes melting her chocolate ones and turning the freshman into a puddle. Her hair blew in rich, dark waves around her face. Lovely. Not in the same manner as his mum or Emma. But dark and exotic and rich.

"River?" William asked, scanning her lithe body, his fifteen-year-old hormones reeking havoc on his composure.

"What?" She asked, leaning against him and unwrapping a candy bar.

"Don't you ever just want to get out of here? Blow this town?" Will asked, taking a bite of the apple.

She laughed, rich and lyrical. "Will, you're *fifteen*. I'm *fourteen*. What are we going to do? Ride our bikes and start a child detective agency?" She nibbled at the chocolate, watching him with an amused expression. "Besides, you're from like... the Kennedy's of the Hellmouth."

"Exactly my point," he huffed, sitting up straight. She toppled against his hip, her balance skewed by the quick motion. Gently, he lifted her head, settling it against his thigh as she looked up at the sky. They'd known each other for as long as either could remember. That's what happens when your parents are best friends.

"Sick of being part of it," Will continued. "Nothing I can do. Of no use to them. I mean, Buffy and Spike..."

"A.K.A., you mom and dad," River joked.

William humphed. "*Emma's* parents," he corrected.

"Oh, come on! They love you and you *know* it," River fought back.

"Love," William stated as if on stage. "Meaningless when they'll all be gone soon."

River sat up to face him, curling her legs under her like a newborn filly. "You *don't* actually believe that, do you?"

William nodded solemnly. "And I can't do a thing about it. Neither can you."

"That's bleak," she sighed, falling back against his thighs. Absently, he smoothed her wild brown hair from her face.

"S'life, Pet," he whispered. "And I am not planning on being round to see it end."

River focused up at him. "Even if it *was* true," she began. "What makes you think that you couldn't help? Besides your parents, you're probably the best fighter of all of us."

"Not enough," William responded, winding a tendril of her hair around his finger.

"And you're really good at the whole computer research-y thing," River continued.

"Won't matter," William answered. "If I am here, We.All.Die."

"So, you just leave?" River asked, her hands wrapping though his.

Will stared down at her pretty face. She looked sad. Alone. "Not yet, Riv."

"Good," she smiled, snuggling into his leg. "I've got time to convince you you're nuts."

"Hey guys," another voice chimed from the distance. Will didn't have to look to know it was his sister. River sat back up, glancing around the tree.

"Hey, Emma," she beamed, watching William's sister walk towards them. Everyone beamed when they saw Emma.

Emma was... perfect. Beautiful. Smart. And disgustingly enough, kind. As far as sisters were concerned, she was all right. But knowing what he had *always* known, William tried not to love her nearly as much as he wanted to.

"Will," she smiled, leaning against the tree.

"Ah, Princess Windsor," Will snarked, prompting a shove from River.

"Heading to a funeral today, are we?" Emma joked, tweaking the collar of his black button down. It was more of a goth look than her father had gone in for. That bleak, depressed, look of youth.

"Bugger off, cheer girl," William growled back at her.

"Actually," Emma sighed, unfazed by her brother's perennial dishumour," I wanted to see if you two lovebirds wanted a ride to training today. Since I *do* have the car." She dangled the keys in front of Will's face, giggling. River was still blushing from the lovebirds comment.

"Pass today, Princess," Will hissed, leaning back against the tree. "Don't much feel like it."

"You really should go, Will," Emma said, her tone changing from quippy to serious. "I mean, I can only cover for you so many times. It's not like you're out there tearing up the athletic field or curing diseases after school."

Will shot her an angry glare. "Last I checked, I didn't answer to you."

"You don't," Emma replied, simply. "But you will to them. Look, you don't even have to train. You can just hang out and look like you're helping Uncle Giles..."

"No," Will interrupted curtly, reopening his book.

River watched him nervously. "Will, maybe you should.."

"Et tu?" He asked, clutching at his heart, his eyes dancing for the girl beside him. She couldn't help but melt.

"Alright, alright," River whined, gathering her things. "Can I still get a ride?"

"Of course," Emma chirped, pulling her bag back onto her shoulder.

"You.. you're going?" A genuine look of surprise passed over William's features. He had thought for certain that the girl would choose to dawdle lazily in the sunshine with him.

River smiled, an infectious grin. "*You* may not care about answering to *your* parents. But mine?"

"Xander," Will laughed. "He's a big wuss."

River smiled again, tossing her remaining apple at William. "Not when mom's around. Then he has to be all manly."

"Suit yourself," William called, nonchalantly, as they walked away. He leaned back against the tree, staring at the open book. Before the last jingle of his sister's keys disappeared in the distance, he was back to dozing against the trunk of the old oak.

*****

They were all but gone now. Mostly, he fell through darkness. Shadows. Loneliness. None of it mattered. He knew what came next.

"Dammit!" He snapped, banging his head against the headboard as he bolted upright. This time, he was angry. This was the last damned time he was going to awake from this particular nightmare.

He was eighteen now. Old enough to live on his own. Work. Go.

In a flurry of anger, he threw on jeans, a black button down. Tossed his clothes in a duffle. Anywhere but here. Anywhere was better. Anything better than this nightmare.

It didn't take long. Really, he hadn't collected many things. Maybe because he knew all his life that this night would come. Clothes. A few books. Toothbrush. Razor. Wallet. He grabbed the packed duffle and tossed it from his window, taking a minute to catch his breath. Breathe. Say goodbye.

William crept quietly into the hall. His parents' door was closed. That had always been their sanctuary. Their refuge from what they had seen. No real point in disturbing them, although he found himself longing to look into his mum's green eyes. He'd always loved her eyes. Fascinated by them as long as he could remember. Will's hands pressed to the wooden door, imagining the emerald green. They way his dad looked at them with every conceivable emotion there was. Even now. Twenty-one years after Emma, his dad looked at his mum with the same awe and love. No wonder Will had fallen in love with those eyes.

Slowly, he backed away. Had to go. Can't stay here. Too close now.

Emma's door stood slightly ajar. Will wasn't sure if she had left it that way, or if dad had done it, wanting to hear if she snuck out of if *he* snuck in. She only still lived at home because of the whole protection issue. That and even at twenty-one, she was still his Mite. And she liked it that way.

Besides, they approved of her boyfriend. He didn't have to sneak around. Strangely, Will liked him too.

Not that she'd have the chance to enjoy it.

Wasn't her destiny to be a wife or a mother. It was to save the World.

Not really that much different than mum. But Emma wouldn't beat it. Couldn't win. He watched her sleep, the moonlight dancing over her face. She really was an angel. Will paused, praying that if his departure could not stop this, she'd at least get to be one for real. She deserved that. Always.

It took everything he had to pull himself from her door, creeping back into his room. Quietly, he glanced around the darkened room of his youth. Remembering it. Them. With a deep breath, he climbed out the window and onto the branch of the tree.

*****

One last stop to make.

He pulled the motorcycle to a halt in front of their driveway. She was standing there in the moonlight, wrapped in a blanket, her hair a wild tangle. Her pretty face wet with tears. William didn't have to ask as she stood there before him in her pajamas.

She changed her mind.

He was alone.

"River?" He asked when he was close enough for her to hear.

Her body hitched, tears raining down her face. "I... I can't, Will."

His heart broke as he walked to her. Had to try. "Baby, I promise I'll take care of you." His palm rested on her cheek, stroking her face with his thumb.

River smiled, letting her eyes sink shut. "I know you would. But if you're right, I need to be here. I need to help."

"We *can't*," William sighed, his hand dropping from her face. "We need to go."

Slowly, her hand rose to his face, brushing errant sandy locks from his eyes. "I can't accept that, Will." She paused as he put his hand over hers, leaning into her touch. "I won't run scared."

William's body tensed, his eyes opening. "Is.. is that what you think?" He gasped, wide-eyed. Without thinking, he backed a step away.

"What can't we face if we're together?" River answered, her body trembling. She pulled the blanket tight around her.

"*This!*" William spat back. "Everyone dying!"

River sighed. "Will, we're not going to die."

William shook his head as if her words were poison. "I thought... I thought you believed me."

Her face softened, stepping towards him, trying to touch him. "Will, I believe you're scared of it. But even if it's true, we should face it together. All of us."

He backed away again, his body shaking. "I thought you loved me." It was almost a whisper.

"Oh God, Will, I do," she pleaded, stepping towards him. For every step, he backed one away. "Since we were kids. I've always loved you."

Tears streamed down his face as he backed to the motorcycle. "I guess not like I thought."

Before she could move, run, take it back, he'd disappeared into the night.

*****

There weren't any lights anymore. He just felt himself wake up. Heard his own screams. Felt the trickle of his sweat. The racing of his heart.

It'd been two weeks since he'd left and the nightmares had stopped. At least the ones at night. But this little hotel room in the desert and the job pumping gas in a podunk town with no one to speak to, no one to dream with, was nearly as horrifying.

He stood, walking to the window. Trying to slow his breath. The moon was high and full. A trail of light reaching from Earth towards Heaven.

Like a river of angels.

Oh God.

It should have been close to a two-hour trip back home, but terror and fury got him there in half the time. For whatever reason, he knew. Knew where. Knew what lay ahead.

Will parked the bike at the end of the alley and gaped. The pavement was buckled and slicked with blood. More blood than should have been there. It's always about the blood.

They were strewn about like wounded soldiers. They *were* soldiers. But not wounded. Dead. Xander. Aunt Willow. All of them. His cousins' blood and friend were lying about in ungodly heaps, barely real anymore.

There was a gaping hole in the Earth at the end of the alley. Slowly, he headed towards it. Hoping. Praying.

But when he knelt at the edge, all there was was a broadsword. And darkness. And a tiny moonstone ring. His mother's. Will closed his eyes and saw it as vividly as day. His father holding her hand. Pulling. His mother telling him to save Emma. His father's tears as she let go. William's eyes opened. The ring must have fallen off as she held his hand. Or as she let go. Or it was of something so pure that Hell had spit it back. Reverently, he tucked it in his pocket, falling back on his heels in numbed horror.

William could see the path his father had taken. The shadows slayed. The blood of man and beast. The torturous, beautiful light around his sister, scorching the manmade earth. Her eyes as they took her. Her father's as he died.

A whimper brought him back to the alley. To now. He looked around, desperate. God, he should've been here. He ran to the tiny sound. Over by the wall.

Xander had dove over his daughter's body before he died. Will could barely make her out underneath of him. But as he got closer, he heard her. Barely. Quietly. He ran, trying to pull Xander from her. Succeeding. Finding her buried in blood.

"River?"

Her eyes flickered open and she smiled. It was a beautiful smile. "Will," she sighed.

William scanned her body, heart racing, deciding what, if any, blood was hers. And then he saw it. A gaping, horrid hole in her belly. Bleeding out into the hard ground. Tears fell steadily down his face as his eyes moved back to hers.

"Will, do I die in your dream?" She asked quietly, staring up at him with those sweet, chocolate eyes.

William shook his head. "No, Pet," he whispered, trying to hold his hand over the bleeding wound in her belly. An hour she'd laid here dying. Alone. Her dead father draped over her in a final act of love.

It wasn't meaningless, love. Even when it came to this.

River chuckled. "Then maybe I should've gone."

Will brushed blood stained hair from her face, pulling her head into his lap. "No. I should have stayed."

The tears kept coming. Slow. Steady. Like rain.

River closed her eyes, and then opened them again slowly. "I really do love you, Will."

His body shook as a hitching sob took him. "I love you. Always, Pet."

"I like it when you call me that," River whispered, smiling.

And her eyes flickered shut.

To be contd.

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