Their hands parted in fire.
“I love you Spike.” She said.
“No you don’t but thanks for saying it.” He looked at her his eyes full of love. “Now hurry up and go!”

It was as if her heart froze. She forced herself to let go of him and ran. He was going to die. There was nothing she could do. He had decided, and it was the only way to save the world. Almost blindly she ran through the school trying to get out before it crumbled on top of her.

And suddenly she was in an alley. Spike was in front of her, looking terribly hurt. Confused and overjoyed to see him alive, she ran after him. “Spike!” she cried. “Spike!” He didn’t turn to face her even as she caught up with him. He was mumbling to himself.

“Beneath her!” I’ll show her, “beneath her”. He grabbed a rifle and loaded it. “I’m gonna get rid of her, get her out of my head once and for all!”

Confused even more, Buffy followed him. He crossed the park, determined as ever and at last came to a street that looked oddly familiar to her. Then she realized why – it had been her street! Spike was headed toward her house! With a rifle!
“Spike! What are you doing!!!!!? “Spike stop!” Buffy screamed.
He continued marching towards her house as if she hadn’t said a word.

Suddenly, he stopped. Buffy looked over his shoulder to see what had stopped him. She gasped. It was herself! She was sitting on her doorstep crying. So much had gone wrong. Spike lowered the rifle and sat beside her, letting her cry.

“What’s going on?” She thought. “I’m watching Spike comfort me on one of the saddest moments of my life, but I’m here and there? Little did I know back then that worse was coming….I should’ve taken this as a picnic.!”

Then she was somewhere else. It was a beautiful church with huge stained glass windows. A huge, jeweled cross stood on the altar and a bare skinned Spike lay over it.

“I’m dreaming again. Dreaming of him again.” She thought. “I remember this. It was when I discovered he had his soul back..”

Bare skinned Spike turned to her, his eyes full of anguish. “Pain, pain, so much pain….you’ve always caused me pain, and you always will. Even my death hasn’t stopped the pain…you’ve always hurt me, since the beginning. Will you ever stop? Will you ever stop Buffy?”

Buffy woke up in a sweat. Two years had passed since the destruction of Sunnydale and the Hellmouth, but she still dreamed of him every night. Most of the dreams were fond memories or bittersweet regrets, but none had shaken her as this one did. All of their feelings, his and hers, coursed through her.. She felt his glorious death, her sore legs from her flight, his denial of his feelings, her denial, his disappointment and hurt at her refusal, and most of all, the pain and the love. It was as if she had been looking at her memories from outside her body yet feeling every feeling either one of them had felt.

His direct address to her at the end had been the most shaking of all. What did he mean? Was he still out there? And what did he mean “from the beginning?” Yes, they had been enemies and fought, but somehow she felt it was deeper. She had to find out.


Spike woke up groggy. He felt like his head had been in a blender.

“Well, well, you’re awake.” It’s bloody well time!” A voice said.

Spike whirled around. Who was that? Where was he? All around him was nothing but a thick gray mist. There was nothing at his feet, yet he was standing, not floating. The last thing he remembered was his own death. Blinding light had been all around him, killing The First and all of Its minions, and destroying Sunnydale with them. Buffy had been with him until the last minute. She told him she loved him. He could see it in her eyes that she was telling him the truth but he feared that if he allowed himself to believe her he would never be able to make the sacrifice to save them all. He owed it to all of them and to himself, his own soul-to finish it. He had felt it…felt his soul. It had been there. If he ended it, they would be safe and he would be somewhere else. Here apparently. But where was here? And was this his soul? It couldn’t be his body so –

“Sodding moron! Of course it’s me!” The voice yelled angrily.

“Who are you?” Spike demanded, startled.

“I’m your bloody soul you bloke! The one you tormented for decades!”

“But aren’t I the soul? The body is dust.”

“Well duh, genius. Do I have to explain everything? I am the Soul, keeper of The Heart, Your humanity, and Your conscience.”

“What? You’re my heart? You’re so bloody blunt and….yucky.”

“Yucky? Great, hanging with the scoobies turned you into one I see. As for being yucky I’m you and YOU are yucky. Plus, you try being shoved off for a century and a half while your body goes and does unspeakable evil while you sit helpless, and then come and tell me that you can be mushy gushy and nice.”

“But I’m not the body.”

“No you’re not. But you’re the mind. We’ve been one since I returned to you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There are three elements to a being. The Soul, the Body, and The Mind. The Soul, as I’ve already said, contains the real Heart of the organism. The Soul controls the body and takes on all of its burdens. The heart feels, but most of its feelings are positive, resulting in emotions such as happiness, empathy, and love. Negative emotions also manifest themselves, like anger, sadness and jealousy, but most of these are tempered by the Soul’s morality complex. The Soul attempts to minimize harm. In evil humans, the soul is battered and ripped from bad experiences and twisted thoughts. Sometimes the Human brings it on himself. It is no longer capable of morality, only of satisfying its Body. This is what happens with murderers and rapists, etc. However, even they can sometimes feel a stab of conscience. When the Soul is separated from the Body however, only the Mind is left with it. The Mind has no conscience of its own, therefore while it can think and reason correctly, it does not concern itself with ethics. There is no feeling in the mind either. The Body thinks it’s happy or angry but is merely satisfied or unsatisfied. Thus, vampires have no real feelings.”
“You’re lying. If I didn’t have feelings how did I hurt so much from Drusila and Buffy before I got you back? You can’t tell me those weren’t real.”
“The hurt from Drusila wasn’t real, you were merely extremely unsatisfied. But Buffy was different.”
“Why?” Spike asked.
“Come with me. I’ll show you.”