One Shot

He'd heard girls cry too many times in his extended existence. Made them cry, he had. It sickened him, now, to think of them not too dissimilar to Dawn. And the fact that it sickened him made it all the more sick. He was a Vampire – creature of the night – he wasn't supposed to care, dammit!

Spike sighed to himself and looked over at Buffy, who was still shaking. Caring had always been his problem, hadn't it?

She had her back to him, but he could tell by the slight change of tang in the air that her tears had stopped.

Normally, when he woke up from the deepest sleep that only came after their extra long marathons, she would be already gone. In some ways, it was easier. Not easier than having her stay, but easier than having to be awake and watch her as she walked out, disgust in the movement. The thing was, staying was off the table. Never happened. Not once. Except today.

Today, Spike had been woken by Buffy all but hurling herself at him, pushing her body hard against his not to gain pleasure, as they'd gotten into the habit of doing, but almost as if she wanted to climb inside him for safety. As if the physical proximity would drain some of the misery away from her.

It was misery to watch her, but there was also relief. She'd broken, finally, and it wasn't pretty – especially not up close – but it was necessary, and he was just glad she hadn't been alone when it came.

Okay, so it hadn't been her horrible treatment of him that had eventually got to her, pushing her over the edge from fierce detachment into grief, but it didn't matter. She needed to grieve as much as he needed blood, and he was glad she'd gotten over the hurdle of her own depression that had delayed the start of the healing process.

It was money. Or, not quite. More like the ability to provide. The inability.

Buffy would have gladly starved, Spike was sure, but Dawn had gone a day without food when there was an issue with one of Buffy's paychecks at the bank – some sod of a cashier reckoned it was void because of all the demon gore splattered across the signature – and that had been simply unacceptable.

Much as she was loath to accept it, Buffy was forced into reaching for help. For Dawn, mostly, but she would be helped by default, too.

With the first hurdle down, and the contents of Spike's wallet now in her back pocket, he was sure she'd be more willing to try with the rest. Either way, Spike was determined to be there for his girls. They may be broke, but he cared too much to stop helping them pick up the pieces.