The First Steps

by Saber ShadowKitten
My Childe 12

Spike moved from my bed six days after he crawled under the covers. Six days of me not knowing what to do or how to help. Six days of pure hell for not only him, but me as well.

He was standing near the entry to the bedroom in my oversized sweats and shirt. His back was pressed firmly against the old brick of the wall, and a terrified expression was on his face, although he was trying greatly to hide it. I was in the kitchen area, about fifteen feet at most separated us.

In my hand was a container of pig's blood that I was going to heat up for dinner. My Childe hadn't had anything since before his shower-- although I tried to get him to feed -- so he must be extremely hungry. Perhaps that was what finally got him out of the bed.

He was taking quick, purposeful breaths, and I knew he was trying to build up his courage to traverse the distance between us. I decided not to move, nor to say a word. In an instant, I knew he had to take the first steps on his own, without coddling or encouragement from me.

Perhaps then my beautiful boy will be able to move on.

Spike closed his eyes and I could see his hands clench and unclench. He banged the back of his head lightly on the wall a few times, and I could see his lips moving as he cursed to himself. Then he took a deep breath and opened his eyes to meet mine.

I saw determination in them.

I saw fear.

I saw anger.

Then I watched him cross the room to me, his steps quick and his back ramrod straight. I could tell he was trying not to look around fearfully by the cording of his neck muscles. His hands were clenched into tight fists at his sides, and his jaw was clenched, as well.

My heart filled with pride. He was doing it. My sweet Childe was doing it on his own. I remembered something Kate had said to me when I was helping Melissa Burns. She told me Melissa needed to get angry, or Dr. Ronald Metzer, her unwanted suitor with the detachable limbs, would always be able to harm by taking her life away due to fear.

Fear was the ultimate destroyer, and the only way to surpass those fears was to face them head on. That's what I was watching Spike do at that moment. He was facing his fear, telling it that he was not going to cower any more.

He reached me and stared up at me with hard eyes, daring me to make a comment. But I didn't. Instead, I handed him the pig's blood, turned and walked back over to the refrigerator to get another container for myself. I looked into the cold depths for a moment, giving myself time to suppress the tears that threatened to fall because of the relief I felt.

My Childe was finally healing.