Yellow Skies

By: Isis

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, or anything related to Buffy the Vampire Slayer- they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.

Rated PG-13

Distribution: As long as you ask and tell me where it's going.

Author's Note: Begins after, As You Were. A Buffy & Spike centered fic, but other characters are involved also. Since this is my first attempt at writing fanfic, or anything of the sort, please go easy on me.

*Once again, my thanks goes out to Madrog - your suggestions and overall help make this possible.

Reviews: Well, of course, that would be great! My email is, isis_fanfic@hotmail.com

*Thanks to everyone that reviewed my first 2 chapters! My first fic, my first reviews- so of course I'm all excited- YIPPY!

Recap of chapter 2: Dawn left Buffy a note saying she went out to lunch with Willow, and then was going to Spike's crypt for a while. When Buffy comes home from work, and finds the note, but no Dawn, she begins to worry. Leaving Tara and Willow at the house, she goes to the crypt to look for her- it's then that she learns something has happened to her sister.

****

Chapter 3

Fading Away, Coming Back

Spike had stayed up all night in the bar he had taken a mild fancy to. Seeing it was a Friday, the place was quite crowed, and that wasn't to his liking. Drinking helped very little, and he found drowning his mind didn't seem to lessen the heavy weight of his heart. Hell, he had known that for months now, but it was something to do. The regulars there were rather uninteresting and so he mostly kept to himself. Any ladies that tried to hit on him were quickly turned away. Problem was, his intimidating look and growly sneer, seemed to only attract them more.

After night faded, and the horizon started to brighten, Spike hurriedly dragged himself into the nearest motel. Seeing that he had a killer headache and was desperate for a shower, he decided now was as good of a time as any to get a room. Thank God he had a little money stashed away, but he knew it wouldn't last long.

After having some blood and a shower, he undressed and then haphazardly fell onto the double bed. He lay there staring at the ceiling fan above him; its gentle breeze slightly moved his curly hair as it began to dry.

Six days, that's all it had been since Spike had left, but to him it felt like months. God he missed her. Spike rolled over and grabbed a cream-colored blouse from his travel bag. He held it up to his face and made a guttural sound when he smelled Buffy's scent still encased in it's threads. The smooth texture of it against his hands brought him right back to the night she had been wearing it. It was the night after her birthday party. He had been reading a short story from one of his old books, when the door flung open and she had ran in, soaked from the raging storm outside. She had obviously been running and her chest pulsated against her now see through shirt.

Buffy explained that she was out patrolling when it started pouring so hard, she could hardly see a few feet in front of her, and decided it was best just to wait the storm out there.

At first all Spike could do was sit and admire her trembling form lit by candlelight. Then, without saying anything, he went and took her hand to lead her to his bed. He carefully undressed her, and at the same time, softly caressed any newly exposed skin. This was different from their previous lovemaking; every move was so slow and concentrated, Buffy almost seemed shy at times. It was then that he would lift her chin back up so she would look at him, and then he'd reassure her with a whisper of his love for her.

After a lengthy amount of time was spent enjoying each other's bodies, Buffy wrapped herself around Spike and let herself fall asleep in his arms. Spike could hardly sleep. He didn't dare bat an eye, afraid that she may get spooked and run off like usual. Instead, he just lay there, taking in the feeling of her breath on his chest and her arm that was wrapped around his exposed side.

When they woke, the storm was over and Buffy had cursed over the fact she had over-slept. Dawn was home, and she didn't know if Willow was there also or not. In too much of a hurry to find her misplaced shirt, she threw on one of Spike's t-shirts, hoping it wouldn't have to be explained to a nosey sister.

Spike had found her shirt soon after she left. He spent the rest of the night with it near him as he lay in bed thinking that maybe things were turning for the better in their relationship. Maybe she was beginning to trust him.

Spike let out a heavy sigh; for now he knew things hadn't changed. He never would have imagined he'd be farther away than just across town from the Summer's house. And now here he was, a few towns over, miserable and feeling more detached from Buffy than ever. And the thought of tomorrow being another day of hanging out in that abandoned house he had taken up residence in, only made him feel worse, but he did consider himself quite lucky to find an unoccupied space to stay for the time being. The old, dilapidated place gave him privacy, and so far he was seldom bothered. It was once evening fell that he would wander off, because in the moonlight the interior reminded him too much of the house he and Buffy had been in together. The one they tore apart from their frenzied coupling. He had tried to sleep the days away, but it was an attempt that was easily defeated by thoughts of her. His feeble mind succumbed to his inner desires, no matter how much he tried to block them out.

He knew when he left that each day wouldn't get any better. Not for him, anyway. It was Buffy he had really done it for. Thought maybe if he left, she would be able to sort things out better. She had said that she was using him; but more important, at least to him, she had also admitted she had feelings for him. And it was those feelings he wanted her to come to terms with. His biggest fear was this whole plan working against him, because he knew he had a bad track record of his plans not working out accordingly. And he hoped beyond hoped that she wouldn't get used to the idea of him not being around, and even worse,like it. If he had his way when he returned, she'd meet him with her wide, green eyes and he wouldn't have to question whether it was love, or not, shining in them. So many times he had looked into those eyes, and read what he believed to be her true emotions and thoughts. Her mouth may have said otherwise, but he refused to believe it.

The morning sun was now shining brightly outside, illuminating the dark blue mini-blinds. He held the shirt against him with his left hand and fell into a restless sleep.

****

Buffy walked quietly through the tunnels, following what little trial there was left of Dawn's abductors. There were two sets of footprints, both obviously made by some type of demon. Dawn's footprints were mostly at the place she had struggled, and Buffy assumed she had been carried off after that. She was very worried now; every minute that went by only increased her anxiety over the situation. Most of the time she could keep her cool under stress, but when things got this personal, it's a different story. Little thought went in to the fact that she didn't know her way around very well underground, and by now, she was well lost. All she could do was move forward and hope to find Dawn before it was too late, if it wasn't already.

The trail was getting harder to follow, disappearing here and there, making her have to guess what way they went next. Having to backtrack two times made her lose even more time and patience. Also, Dawn must have done some damage to one, or both of them, because sporadically she'd find a drop of blue colored ooze, perhaps their blood.

Suddenly, a noise up ahead echoed toward her and she took off at full sprint. Just as she was about to turn a corner, the heel of her boot slipped into a large crack, causing her to twist her ankle. "Ow," Buffy said as she fell hard. Frustration quickly set in. She didn't have time to waste. She used one hand to support her ankle and the other to pull her heel out. "Stupid boots." Cautiously, she stood and tried putting her full weight on it, but a sharp pain shot up to her knee and she buckled, ending up on her butt. Another noise brought her to her senses, but this time it was much closer than the last, and bad news was, it came from behind her. Without having time to react, an arm wrapped around her and she felt something be stuck into her neck. All she had time to do was give a loud yelp, then everything went blurry and her body gave way to a sudden onslaught of tiredness.

****

When Buffy woke up, she didn't feel she had the strength to open her eyes. She just lay there on her stomach, for at least a half an hour, wondering where she was. The cold in the damp, concrete floor had moved into Buffy's body and she desperately wanted to find some way to warm up. But she couldn't move, even though she didn't feel any sort of restraints. It was internal, and something was desperately wrong. It was as if all her energy had been drained from her; even breathing seemed like labor.

Listening now to distant noises, she thought she heard someone talking, but the voice sounded slurred. Briefly, she opened her eyes. It took her a while to be able to focus on anything. First thing she saw was Dawn lying diagonally from her, on the other side of the room. Her sister seemed to be in the same condition. Relief flooded her when she could at least tell she was still breathing, but then that relief quickly faded when she realized that something was sticking out of Dawn's neck. It was hard to make out due to there being hardly any light entering the cavern, but it seemed to be some kind of long, thin claw. That is when the memory of something being stabbed into her own neck came back and she knew, whatever it was, it was the key as to why she felt like this. If slayer strength was affected to this extreme, she couldn't imagine how Dawn felt.

She made a feeble attempt at calling Dawn's name, but what came out was barely audible. Looking toward the entryway, she noticed there was nobody guarding it. In fact, she thought they were completely alone, until she saw that a decapitated body lay in a near by corner. The head was nowhere to be seen.

Buffy slowly raised her hand to her neck and cleared away hair that had managed to escape her ponytail. She then pulled the embedded protrusion out with a quick jerk. Still laying on her stomach, and her vision not quite normal, she inspected it the best she could. Blood stained her fingers and she could feel the warm, wetness of the trail it made as it slowly dripped down to her collarbone. 'Maybe that wasn't such a good idea.' she thought to herself.

Dawn made a slight movement and Buffy hoped she was waking up, but after a few minutes passed, it seemed unlikely. Gathering what little strength she could muster, she tried to shimmy her way over to her sister. But before she could reach her, she was completely at loss for the energy she needed to go on. A wave of nausea ripped through her and she began to feel like she was coming down with a fever. The room seemed as if it were spinning and she had to close her eyes against this dizzying effect. Blackness crept back into her mind, and she let herself slip back into the empty place of sleep.

****

Spike ran and ran. His vampire sight led him through the endless, pitch-black passageways. Water and muck splashed up from the numerous puddles, coating his jeans. They clung to him and made his movements feel restricted. He had to find them. Buffy and Dawn were in here somewhere, and he had to find them.

At first he tried stealth mode. If something was hurting them, he didn't want to endanger them even more by giving himself away. But after a while, and no luck, he frantically began calling out their names. He didn't care what attention he brought to his presence, danger to himself mattered little to him right now.

He eventually sat on a large boulder that had jutted through a partially collapsed wall. Motionless, he listened for any indication they were around that area. Noises usually echoed quiet far through the sewers, but they could also be misleading. He couldn't give up, but didn't know what he could do besides trudge on, and hope to find them.

It was then that a small ball of light whizzed by his head, and came to a stand still a few feet before him. It was gold and an intense blue orb, swirling around, until it became larger and transformed into Joyce. "Spike." Her voice was soft and had a melodious sound to it. Her face glowed even more than he thought possible. "Always looking out for my girls. I rest easier knowing I have you to trust them with," she said as she reached out and slightly touched the side of his head. Spike gave a small smile to the woman he held so much respect for. She trusted him.

Joyce turned and transformed back into the little, bright sphere. Now he heard her voice in his head, no longer having to pass through his ears, "Quick, I'll lead the way."

****

Spike lay sprawled out on the motel bed, naked, and barely covered by a blue, cotton sheet. Sweat glistened on his forehead and chest. He licked his lips to try to moisten them.

The dream had felt unbelievably real. An uneasy feeling tugged at him and he looked at the phone a few times, trying to remember if tonight was the night he was supposed to call Dawn. Pacing and flipping through channels is what he did for the next hour before going outside to smoke. The evening sky was full of stars and he wondered if Buffy was sitting on her back porch, looking at them also. The back porch, where he had last seen her. "What the fuck was I thinking?" he said out loud as he flung is cigarette down onto the tar. He put it out with the toe of his boot. 'No, I've got to give it more time.' He thought as he let out a sigh. 'She just better not as bloody well be thinking I left her for good.' A thought occurred to him and his body went still. What if she was seeing someone else now? He took a quick intake of air and let it out as, "Fuck it, I'm going home." He went to his room and grabbed his stuff, shutting the light off on the way out. He mumbled as he got into his car, "Girl has me wrapped right round her bloody finger."

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