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Chapter 8:
The Dawning of a New Day
by Quwinntessa Starber
Heavy arms shifted restlessly in his grip. Willow was stirring, and he knew from past experiences she’d awaken soon. What he didn’t know was what she would do when she awoke.
The night before had been very difficult for her and him as well. Everything he’d hoped for came true as she came to him, finally asking him for help. The problem was she’d hurt herself to do it, again cutting her body to alleviate the fear she’d felt that he’d be angry at her for breaking a button off her dress. It saddened him to think that she was so afraid of him; but she was learning—had come to the realization last night in fact—that he was going to take care of her, that she didn’t need to be afraid anymore. He knew she understood now, that she believed that he wouldn’t hurt her, that he’d protect her, but there was so much more she wasn’t willing to understand yet.
She needed to learn to trust him, to believe in him beyond his words and actions. Willow needed to trust his intent, even when she didn’t know what was going to happen next. Last night she’d finally allowed herself to believe that he would keep his word, maybe even follow though on his actions, but she still couldn’t allow herself to trust him beyond both of those things.
But he wasn’t about to complain. She’d moved faster than he’d anticipated, gained surer footing with every step instead of stumbling. Willow was moving quickly towards him; not that it mattered anyway, he'd stay as long as it took, he had all the time in the world.
He felt her hand flex against the muscles of his chest and her fingers trailed fire against his skin as she moved her injured arm closer to her body. He wanted her desperately. Last night had been a true test of his willpower and stamina. Everything about him had wanted to claim her, mark her as his and make sure no one ever touched her again; but everything that was Willow begged him not to. Of course she’d been tempted, the flesh is always the greatest temptation; but while her body craved it, her mind needed to trust him and taking advantage of her body would not have gained her trust.
Eyelashes fluttered against his skin and a soft moan of abandoned dreaming left her beautiful mouth. Everything about this fire sprite spoke of perfection. Human eyes could not see the bone structure beneath her still young skin; she’d grow up to be one of the most beautiful women the planet had ever created, one year, maybe two, and the entire world would see what they’d missed. Spike intended to have claimed her by then, just in case.
"Spike?"
"I’m here, Luv. How do you feel, sleep well?"
Her voice was drowsy and her movements languid as she tried to stretch and still maintain as much contact with him as she could. When she’d settled again, she nodded against his chest, the fingers of her injured arm tracing light patterns on his collarbone.
When she said nothing more he became a little worried. She was being too quiet; he’d expected her to completely forget where she was and maybe even put up a half-hearted struggle when she realized where she’d spent the night. But instead she just lay tucked against him, running her fingers lightly over his chest.
Then he realized her words from the night before, during the time he’d made her dinner and they’d sat at the table together, her eating, him watching to make sure she finished it all. Her words had come out of nowhere; one minute she’d been eating, the next she’d looked up at him and just uttered them. Now he wished he’d paid more attention; now that he realized she’d been calling for his help even then. "I just need to be taken care of for a little while. Just until I can fix this, just until it’s better. Just a little while."
He realized then that she was waiting for instructions. She needed him to tell her what to do and how to do it. Like a mother to a daughter or even an overpowering lover, she needed to feel safe and secure and to do that she needed him to dictate her life to her; just until she could do it for herself. Spike hated to think that her pain was so great she couldn’t even allow her mind to think for itself; but he understood that everyone needed a break, and Willow had been taking care of herself and everyone else for the last seventeen years. It was time for someone to take care of her for a change.
"Are you comfortable, Willow?" His voice held honest desire to protect and ensure her comfort. He was sincere, he’d have to be when talking with her; they say dying men know all liars.
Her voice was muffled against his chest, her warm breath flowing over his skin. "Yes, thank you."
"Good. Are you tired? Do you want to sleep some more?"
Suddenly she sat up then, just a little to look into his eyes. Her stare was questioning, as if she were analyzing if he were ready to play the game, if he knew all the rules. He gave her a weak smile and asked again.
Shaking her head no she allowed her head to fall back against his chest. A whisper carried her words to him. "When I was little, my parents took me to a psychiatrist, actually they took me to a lot of them. I was—was having trouble sleeping. I couldn’t get to sleep and then when I did, I’d wake up screaming, terrible nightmares." Reflexively Spike tightened his hold about her body, drawing her closer to him. She snuggled against his chest before continuing. "After the first visit, they all told my parents that it was because I was afraid at night, that I was afraid to be alone in the house."
"Alone? I thought you said you were little."
She paused. "I was. I was only about eight when I went to see the psychiatrists, but I’d been having problems sleeping for years before that." Her voice grew quiet. "My parents have always left me alone in the house while they travel. I’ve been on my own since I was about six; they didn’t see a need for a nanny since I was so smart. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t, that I was stupid, then they would have had to stay with me or at least gotten someone else to."
He stroked his fingers through her hair, not trusting his voice to refrain from condemn her parents as he’d promised not to. But after a minute of silence she continued where she’d left off.
"The psychiatrists told my parents that I needed to be enrolled in therapy right away since I was barely sleeping four hours a night and was only eight. But my mother said it was nothing, just a phase—she’s a child psychiatrist you know one of the best in the world. My daddy’s a Rabbi, he does sermons all over the world and sometimes even in Sunnydale, but it’s been a long time since he’s been in Sunnydale." Quietly, she lay against him then, not saying a word, not volunteering any more information. Her revelations had wiped her out; she wasn’t used to telling people anything about herself.
"So what happened, Pet?"
Shifting, she again looked up at him, resting on her elbow before liking what she saw in his face and returning to his chest. "They took me home and put me to bed. My mom used all kinds of sleep aids on me; some nights she’d give me two or three Valium just to get me to sleep the night."
"Valium? That’s not for kids. I should know, they’ve had that stuff a long time. Your mum gave you that and you were only eight?"
"She’d been giving it to me since I was six, my daddy didn’t know. But when they were home, she didn’t want to hear me scream so she gave me the drugs. When they left she took them away. I eventually learned to get by on three to four hours of sleep."
He wanted to rage, wanted to find her parents and kill them painfully for their ignorance. Her father sounded like an idiot that didn’t know what his woman as doing and her mother—he was going to enjoy that kill very, very much.
Spike’s inner dialogue nearly caused him to miss her next words. "But, that’s what I mean."
"What do you mean?"
"I usually only sleep four hours a night and I still wake up with terrible nightmares most nights, at least twice a night. But since I got here, since you took me away, I’ve slept so long. I’ve gotten to sleep seven, even eight hours and then I haven’t had a single nightmare since I’ve been here.
"I’ve never had so much rest. I’ve never felt—" She paused, taking a deep breath and analyzing her next words carefully. "I’ve never felt safe enough to sleep the whole night. But with you—with you it’s different. I—I feel safe enough to sleep. Last night, sleeping here, I’ve never felt so safe and secure in my whole life, not ever…"
He wanted to hold her tight, to wrap her up in his arms and let her know that while bad things existed in the world none of them would ever touch her again. He settled on pulling her body flush against his own and enveloping her in an embrace that allowed only for her chest to rise and fall.
Willow snuggled into him, gripping at his arm to hold herself to him. So much pain and sorrow in one so young, so many feelings of abandonment and fear. How she’d managed to survive so long, Spike didn’t know, but he did know that she wouldn’t have to just survive from now on, now she would get to live.
"I know that was hard for you to tell me Willow. You were very, very brave to tell me all of that. And you did it all without my asking you to. I’m so proud of you. You can tell me anything Willow, anything at all and I’ll never get mad at you. I’ll never leave you. I’ll always protect you Willow, always."
She nodded her head and then he felt her close her eyes, allowing her body to rest against his.
A long while passed and Spike kept his grip about her. Willow kept her eyes closed, but he knew she wasn’t sleeping, just trusting in him to hold her tightly. He didn’t disappoint. When Spike was sure she knew that he would not leave her he spoke.
"If you’d like Willow, you could always sleep here with me. You don’t have to got back to your room unless you want to."
There was no sound, no movement from her for a moment. Then, "I’d like to sleep with you. I feel…happier with you."
"Then here you will sleep, Pet. In fact, got any ideas for redecorating, just let me know."
She sat up then and smiled at him, a warming smile that showed she’d gotten his joke and found it mildly entertaining, but that she was really smiling at him. It was a very good smile indeed.
"You hungry, Luv?"
She nodded her head. "Maybe a little."
"Then let’s get something in that stomach of yours, shall we?"
He made to rise, to sit up and bring her with him, only to have her wrap her arms around his waist and push him back down.
"Willow?" His voice held a note of concern. He shouldn’t have worried.
"I don’t want to get up, I like it here." Her voice was a mock pout, like a little girl not quite ready to face the day. He laughed and pulled her closer to him.
"But Pet, the whole world is out there waiting for you and me."
She shook her head. "Uuhu, no it isn’t, just the house and it isn’t going anywhere. I just want to stay here, it’s warm here." She smiled, letting him know that if he wanted her to she’d get up and go anywhere with him that she was only playing. Just like a child…
"Is that so, Luv. Well, then I suppose you don’t want to see your surprise then do you?"
Sitting up, Willow gazed into his face adoringly, excitement flowing across her face. "Surprise? What is it Spike?"
"Oh it isn’t much really, not that big a deal at all. I just thought you’d like to go outside for a while, maybe see the gardens or even the horses. But if you’d rather say in bed with me, well, who am I to complain?" She positively shook then with happiness and excitement.
"Really! I can really go outside?! And you have horses? I didn’t know you had horses?! I love horses! And the gardens, I can’t wait to see the gardens! Can we see the ocean to, all I’ve seen is from my window and I’d love to see the ocean, can we please, please see it?!" Her excitement was contagious and he found himself smiling right along with her.
"’Course we can. But first you have to eat a big, huge breakfast. Make me proud with how much you can pack away. Then while you get dressed, I’ll make some things for a picnic and we’ll make a night out of it. The moon’s full and you should be able to see almost everything. Sound good to you?"
Willow nodded her head emphatically.
"Alright. Then lets get a shower and head down stairs."
A bright blush flooded over Willow’s face then and she let lose a soft giggle as she remembered last nigh. "Um, Spike…"
He laughed out right, pulling her into a quick hug before releasing her and standing up.
"Don’t worry Pet, I’ll let you have the shower first." A wicked gleam passed into his eyes and he knew Willow saw it. "Besides, I don’t know if I could control myself around you—sleep tousled hair and that fresh out of bed look." It wasn’t a lie and they both knew it. Willow ducked her head in a sweet blush and let Spike help her from the bed.
He leaned down and whispered into her ear. "Don’t worry Willow, there’ll be plenty of time for all that later." He kissed her cheek and gave her bum a light tap in the direction of the bathroom. He saw the smile on her face as she turned at the door to look at him, a knowing look in her eye. She closed the door half way and then stepped deeper inside.
Spike sat on the bed and gave a great sigh. Willow didn’t seem as bad as he’d thought she’d be, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t covering it up. Deciding not to take any chances, he moved to the fire and stocked it, wanting the room to be warm when she returned.
* * *
As he walked back into the bedroom, water still clinging stubbornly to his blond hair, he started at seeing Willow still wrapped in her towel sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace. She had her legs drawn up against her chest and under the towel and her head was resting against one of the arms, just laying, watching the flames dance.
"Willow? Are you alright, sweetheart?"
She looked up at him before quickly looking away. She seemed almost embarrassed. "I’m alright. I was waiting for you."
"I thought you were going to get dressed and I was to pick you up in your rooms?" He was worried, could she suddenly have lost all the nerve she’d gotten last night? Was she afraid he’d leave her again? He hoped no.
"I—I was. I went to my room and then—" She shrugged her shoulders, the towel slipping a little, revealing that she indeed wore a bra and perhaps even a pair of knickers. She’d gone to her room, but had barely dressed, he didn’t understand why.
"How come you didn’t put on one of the dresses I bought you? Or even a pair of ridding pants? I thought you were excited to get to go ridding?"
Her head shot up from it’s resting place, a look of fear crossing her face. "I am excited. I—I want to go ridding really, I do. I—I just…"
"What is it, Luv? You can tell me anything. I promise I won’t get angry." He meant it and the look in her eyes then told him that she knew it, which only confused him more. That is until she answered all his questions in one small answer.
"I didn’t know what you’d like me to wear." She gave him a small but bright smile.
It all fell into place. Everything she was right now needed to be explained, needed direction. She needed him to answer all questions, to tell her what to do, because he’d agreed to take care of her, agreed to tell her what to do. Willow wanted to please him, wanted him to be happy with her, just like any scared child wanted to please. There was reassurance in knowing that the person with all the power cared for and liked you. He remembered, he’d been the same way with Angelus…
"Oh Willow. Anything you wear would make you look absolutely beautiful. Though I have to say, you wearing nothing at all is just as tempting." His leering look caused a laugh of both pleasure and relief, she had been worried that he’d been angry, worried she’d upset him.
"Come with me, Luvey." He reached his hand down and took hers, pulling her body up and away from the towel and chair. When she stood he saw that she was in fact wearing all the required under-things of the day. He had to admit, it was a much better show than it had been a hundred years ago, more skin and yet more for the imagination to wonder at.
He escorted her to the closet, and once inside, dropped her hand at the door before moving deeper inside. Rounding a corner, he exchanged the towel for a pair of well-worn leather pants and a white poet shirt. Leaving the top few buttons undone, he moved back over to her and took her hand.
They left the closet and as they walked down the hallway, Willow spoke. "I like that shirt, it’s nice. I remember it from earlier, that first night I woke up. It’s—comforting."
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close as he opened her door and led her to the closet. "Whatever makes my Red Queen happy." She smiled at the reference and snuggled into his embrace.
Opening the closet, he knew in the dim light from the fire he’d lit while she was in the shower, she would not be able to see in the enclosed space. He dropped her hand again and moved inside. Rustling around, he found two outfits he thought she’d like before exiting the closet and crossing to the bed where she’d settled.
Holding up the cream colored ridding outfit, he presented it for her inspection. Then holding up the other hand he showed her the jeans and emerald velvet shirt he’d also brought. "Which do you like better, Luv?"
For a moment, panic entered her eyes and he was afraid she’d break down into tears. He realized his mistake, too many choices, any choice at all was one too many. She wanted to please him, but didn’t know him well enough yet to know what he liked. His poor Willow found herself stuck, searching for answers and not having any. He could literally she her worry that she’d choose wrong and make him angry, angry enough to leave her. She believed in his words and actions, but not his future intent.
"It’s all right, Willow. I like both of these outfits, that’s why I picked them. I like them both equally. I thought you’d like to decide which one I got to see you in tonight. You know, add a little spice to my long life." His voice held the joke until he saw her accept it. Relief, for a moment it was all he could feel, she’d accepted his answer, she would choose.
Examining the two outfits, Willow finally reached for the jeans and shirt. Her fingers wrapped about the hangers and brushed his before taking the clothing from his hand and pulling it against herself. He gave her a large smile, one that let her know that she’d actually picked the one he’d really liked best. She beamed at him then.
Moving to the closet, he replaced the other outfit and then moved back to help her into her clothes.
Sitting her on the bed, he slipped the jeans over both of her legs and then pulled her into a standing position to ease them over her hips. He secured the fastenings and then without warning, kissed the tip of her nose. A surprised and then brightly-lit smile fell into place, a quick giggle escaping her tempting mouth. "Your nose looked a little under-appreciated. Thought I’d change its outlook and imagine that, it worked." She ducked her head as an embarrassed flush added color to her skin, he couldn’t help but laugh.
Taking the velvet shirt into his hands he weighed the material. "Think you’ll be warm enough in this, Luv? It’s really warm out there tonight, but I want to make sure." She nodded her head and with careful ease, he slipped the material around her re-bandaged arm. Straightening the collar, he leaned down and kissed her nose again. "I just wanted to see you blush again." And she did.
He fastened the buttons and then helped her tuck the shirt into her jeans. When she stood dressed in both clothes and shoes, he took her hand and led her down the stairs to the kitchen.
Through the windows, moonlight fluttered against the walls and lit the way to the taper that hung against the walls. He lit them, holding Willow’s hand and bringing her along with him to every one. The lighting revealed more and more of Willow’s beauty to him and he knew that if he’d still needed to breathe he would have stopped from just looking at her. The idea that he knew first hand what she looked like beneath her warm clothing nearly undid him.
Choosing to remove temptation before she saw the look he used to gaze at her, Spike settled her into a chair and moved to the refrigerator. He pulled out some eggs and bacon before moving to the stove and turning it on. "How do you like your eggs, Luv?"
She paused, and he held his breath for her answer. "Scrambled and with ketchup, if that’s alright?"
He nearly laughed with relief. He nodded his head; his look telling her he was proud. Then, making sure she knew he was joking, allowed his comment. "What is it with you Yanks. You drown everything with ketchup! You know there was a time when ketchup didn’t even exist! It’s true, I remember it! We use to eat the blasted things with salt and nothing else, we did. Now, it’s ketchup this and ketchup that. Maybe I should ask you what you’d like with your ketchup."
Her laughter made his day as he continued to cook her breakfast, setting the bacon in once the eggs had begun to set up. Spike never wanted this moment to end, but of course it had too.
"Spike?" Her voice held concern and he could tell from the inflection, a hint of fear.
"What is it, Luv? It’s all right." He had to reassure her, make her somehow understand.
"I—that is—um…I can’t—I mean, I don’t—I can’t eat bacon." The last came out in a rush and he found himself stumbling for an explanation. She provided it at his confusing. "It’s not that I don’t want to! Um…well, I’m—well I was Jewish and…we don’t exactly…pork is a no-no." She turned pleading eyes on him and he could see her begging him to understand.
Leaving the eggs to their own devices, he moved to her chair and kneelt before her. "I completely forgot, Luv. You’d told me your dad was a Rabbi and I didn’t even think about it. Sorry ‘bout that; but no worries, we’ll just make a new batch, how’s that sound?" She nodded and gave a smile before he returned to the stove and made a show of throwing out the offensive food. "Back! Back! You dirty, disgusting swine! Away from my Red Queen, she cares not for you horrid presence!" Willow’s laughter was music to his ears.
Once they’d settled on three eggs, toast, a glass of both juice and milk and then half a muffin, Spike sat down beside her to watch her eat. Willow made it through half the food before sitting back to let it settle. They’d exchanged small talk but mostly had remained quite, Spike wanted her to eat not talk.
"Spike, I have a question."
"Go ahead Luv, any question from you has to be an honor for a poor dumb fool like me to have an answer for."
She grinned only to have it disappear suddenly. Willow seemed to struggle with her question, as if she wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. "I’m—well, I was wondering what you were going to have for breakfast?"
He started at her question, but she pressed on, not taking notice. "I looked in the kitchen when we put all the food away last week, but I didn’t see any blood at all and I know you’re not feeding off me. So I—I’m just curious…that’s all. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want too." Her last line was a rush to save herself, but Spike would never lie to her, never.
"I bet you tore this place apart looking for a food source, didn’t you?"
She nodded. "When you were still sleeping I went looking. I even when into the basement—I don’t like it down there."
"Oh Willow. Luvey, you should have just asked me—well hold on a sec. maybe it’s a good thing you waited. I wasn’t much looking forward to explaining this to you, but I think you’re able to handle it now." She looked at him expectantly, wait for him to continue.
"Mat. Well, Mat and Clara, then there’s Joshua and Philip, Devon, and Bridget." He counted silently in his head, "Yep, that’s the lot of them."
Her eyes grew wide at the mention of Mat’s name and then wider still as she recognized Bridget as being the woman that came every other day to clean the house. "You—you’re feeding from the help?"
"Of course, Luv. It’s how vampires in society have always done it."
"But—but don’t they fight, won’t they tell and get you killed? They don’t stay here they go home. Won’t they come back with a mob and stake you?"
He laughed, she was so innocent. Living in Sunnydale had done her many favors, learning the horrors the world could offer, but it did little to explain the far older European traditions. "Willow, not everyone wants to kill vampires, some blokes actually want to keep us around you know."
"What do you mean?"
"Answer me this, Willow. Besides Angel, myself, and a few others, how would you describe vampires?"
Quietly she thought about it. "I guess I’d say they were hungry, blood sucking monsters, that killed a lot of people and liked it."
"Pretty good description, now how would you describe me or Angel?"
She took longer to think about it. "I guess I’d say you were the same, but with more control—like you didn’t have to kill someone every night and while I think you enjoy it, your not so reckless about it."
"Close, really close. Those bloody Watcher Diaries have been filling your head with one-sided nonsense. What do they tell you, that vampires are hated and feared, that the world doesn’t know about them but needs to be protected from them. Sound about right?" She nodded her head. "Well that isn’t the case, Luv. Vampires have been around since the dawn of time, no one knows how long, but they were there standing right beside Moses when he parted the Red Sea and threw stones at Christ when he walked the path to his death. Those blasted volumes say that all vampires are savage killers but we’re not. We need food just like everyone else and we kill for it, just like everyone else. Do we enjoy the hunt? Damn straight we do! The kill is something we celebrate and a long time ago, back when mortals wore skins of dead animals and worshiped more than one god, they reveled in the kill as well.
"But there are some people that know this, some that want the power we posses. Not everyone is ignorant of vampires, there are some that seek us out, track us down and ask for what we have to offer. Eternal life is very tempting Willow, no matter what you have to give up to get it."
"Is that what you’ve done? Offered to turn your servants into vampires if they let you feed from them?"
"In a way, more like they came to me. For example Bridget, her husbands dying, has been for some years, cancer or something like that. She found me a long time ago, before I came to Sunnydale, and asked me to turn him, in return she’d work for me when I had need of her and offer her blood to quench my thirst. She needed something from me and I might have one day needed something from her, so I made the deal. Now she cleans the house we live in and before she leaves, I take a little from her," At Willow’s horrified shock he shook his head. "No Willow, not like back in Sunnydale. Killing on the Hellmouth is different than killing anywhere else. On the Hellmouth there’s a rush of power you feel as a soul leaves a body that doesn’t happen in the rest of the world. That’s why fledglings go on killing sprees, the rush is really something to die for." He smiled at his choice of words.
"So you don’t take enough to kill her and she still comes back?"
"Yeah. Her husband’s going to die soon, they couldn’t afford medical insurance so he’s not been getting really great treatment. When the time comes, I’ll turn him and leave him. I have no desire for another minion right now, they’re only a pain in the ass anyway."
"But won’t he hurt Bridget?"
"Probably. Not my problem."
Her eyes grew wide then and he started to protest. "No Willow, listen to me. This is the way it goes, this is the way it’s been for more centuries then are even known. There are very few solid deals when dealing with the devil and a vampire is closer than most think."
"But couldn’t you just tell her, warn her what will happen?" He shook his head. "But why?"
"Because God told his people not to make deals with the devil, that he could not be trusted. Like it or not, I’m the devils servant, even when I’m the master. We—vampires and the like—weed out the weak ones. Some will go to heaven, other to hell, that’s not my decision. But she knew the risk before she came to me. And besides, just because her husband gets turned, doesn’t mean he’ll go after her, not all vampires kill their loved ones."
"Did you?"
"Hell yes! But trust me Pet, they deserved it."
She said nothing more and for a moment he was fearful he’d scared her too much, afraid she had learned too much too quickly.
"Spike, I’m going to tell Bridget what you said. Even if she can’t talk to me, I’m going to tell her." She was tempting his wrath, at least that’s how she saw it; he saw her as being a weak soul, not yet ready to embrace the darkness he lived in completely. She’d eventually learn.
"As you like, Willow. But I doubt it will make much of a difference. She made her decision a long time ago now and her husband is too close to dying, her soul is too lost to believe you. You’ll only be wasting your breath."
"I know, I do. She chose this path and she’ll have to live with the consequences. But it just seems fairer to me to tell her, to give her all the information. She can’t bitch at the gates that way." On the other hand, maybe she would learn faster than he thought.
Nodding his head, he indicated her food. "Finish that up Luv, and let’s get out of here. You’re going to love the horses."
A flash of excitement entered her eyes and it was as if she put their discussion completely behind her. She raced to finish her food, leaving only a portion of her eggs and half a glass of milk. Satisfied that she’d eaten enough he took her dishes from her and deposited them in the sink.
"Run up to the library and get our book. I’ll put a lunch together and we’ll head out." Smiling brightly, Willow ran out of the room and he could hear her pound up the stairs to the library. Smiling to himself, he threw some sandwiches together and grabbed a few whole carrots for the horses. It was a beautiful night and an even more beautiful start.
chapter 7