Tiny bits of shimmering gray dust, caught in the moonlight and the still night air. If they hadn't been all that remained of Spike, Willow could have described the dancing motes of dust, glimmering in the pale light of the watching moon as almost lovely.
But it _was_ Spike... gorgeous, sweet, funny, dangerous, deadly _Spike_. Little dancing, floating, flying bits dust before she'd ever had the chance to have him be _her_ Spike.
Gone, gone, gone, _gone_!
She was screaming, the sound of her drawn out wail distant to her own ears. No Drusilla, no vampires, no Buffy or Angel or Xander or Cordelia. Only her and Spike... shattered dusty remains, falling and twisting, scattering away from her.
"My Spike?" Drusilla moaned, wide eyes staring, unblinking, at the spot which the other vampire had been occupying only seconds ago. The feel of the wooden stake was rough against her cool palm, bitting into the soft flesh as her hand clenched around it.
Daddy laughed in her mind, low and happy. *Rejoice, princess... you have your vengeance.*
Her hand shuddered, the stake dropping from suddenly nerveless fingers. Her red mouth parted, a low, anguished cry tearing from her. Her mournful cry melded with the witch's wail, two voices spiralling upwards, bound together briefly in their loss.
Dancing little bits of dust.
The star imbedded into her skin burned, and her hands swung upwards, tearing at sharp lines marring her flesh. 'Not like this, not like this!' her mind screamed, the words pounding in the emptiness of her head. No moon, no stars, no air to fill her thoughts; no more Innocent, Whore, Goddess whispering inside of her... only Daddy.
Daddy who took away her Spike, whose steady, calming voice had made her strike out at her Spike. Dust before her eyes. No more loving Spike to hold his princess, only Daddy riding in her mind.
She screamed, a lost and broken sound that hadn't passed her lips since Angel had made her his own.
The sound of Willow's anguished cry sent Xander tumbling away from the tree that he'd just helped impale a vampire upon. He swirled around, his eyes searching out the form of his best friend. She stood, her eyes wide and horrified; slight body trembling with the force of the screams tearing from her.
Xander had known Willow his entire life, he'd seen her at her best and at her worst, he'd seen love shinning from her eyes and he'd witness the deep burning fury that simmered beneath her bubbly surface. But never had he heard such a heartbreaking sound coming from her.
Part of him, small and well versed in matters of survival, told him to run -- to get as far away from the primal, enraged, sorrowful creature before him. The rest of him, that which had always felt for Willow a deep and unbending love, urged him to draw her into her arms and chase the pain away.
He moved forward, his entire being focused on reaching his best friend. His advance was halted by Cordelia's painful grip on his wrist. Her lower lip was trembling, and her eyes were large. Her chin jerked out, and Xander unwillingly followed the direction in which she gestured.
Dust in the air.
'It was a _game_!' Cordelia's mind screamed frantically, pounding away inside her skull. Flirting and caring and loving, until they finally got together and lived in blissful happiness until they messed it up again, with or without help from the Hellmouth.
Sure, people died in Sunnydale. They did it all the time, Hell, she'd seen more of it that she cared to remember. But the good guys didn't go out like this, with happiness only a kiss, three words, and a brief stretch of time away. They didn't end like this, their world utterly and completely eradicated. Just... gone.
Willow was screaming, the sound battering at Cordelia until she thought that she'd scream herself, if only to drown out Willow's cries. So much emotion, locked away in an airtight box inside her, breaking free now, far too late.
Cordelia was crying, mascara blurring around her eyes. She didn't stop.
The final vampire's heart was pierced, and Buffy was swinging around. She took the in the scene laid out before her in moments, and felt as if she'd just been struck in the stomach.
Dust where Spike had been.
She'd half-joked about staking the vampire herself, protectiveness about Willow and distaste for Spike blurring together with notions of mortal enemies. And he was gone, and she didn't feel any happiness or relief just... sorrow.
Sorrow for Willow, her emotions spilling into her voice, her heart in her eyes.
Memories of Angel -- drawn into Hell before her eyes -- swept through Buffy's mind. She loved his so much, seeing him disappear had nearly destroyed her. Willow's scream held the sharp agony that Buffy had never allowed to pass her own lips.
"Oh God, no! Not Willow. Don't do this to Willow..."
He struggled to his feet, ignoring the ache in his back as he rose. Her scream filled his senses, and Angel darted forward. He caught Drusilla by the shoulders, her screams nearly deafening him so close to his sensitive ears. Her body was shuddering violently, and her skin was warm beneath his hands.
Everything that had happened between them the last several years faded away, and Angel knew only that he held onto someone that he was responsible for. He looked over her shoulder and gasped as he saw what had sent Drusilla spiralling away into her own mind.
One childe, a broken, grieving little girl. The other, gone. Both of them rested directly on his conscience. He'd started this, over a century ago, shaping both younger vampires until tragedy had been inevitable.
He had been responsible for both of them; he had hated them for what their existence made him recall. At the moment, none of that mattered. The bonds formed through the blood they shared burned bright inside of him, and Angel held Drusilla's unresisting body close to him.
The walls in her mind were cracking.
*Stop your foolishness, Drusilla! You belong to _me_! Listen!*
Her head shook, an angry, jerky motion. "No! Get out, get out! You made Princess hurt her Spike." Bloody tears tracked down her face, and her eyes glinted with determination. "Get out of my head!"
*No.* Hard, ragged... frightened? *You can't fight me, Drusilla! You gave yourself to me, you wear my mark. I cannot be banished!*
"I'm a princess, I can do whatever I want!" Hands that had only moments before been striking out at Spike, then herself, lashed outwards once again. "And Princess wants you to _get out of her head_!"
Her mindscape shuddered, and the Sidhri shrieked in enraged protest.
'I won't let it end like this. He's not leaving me again. He can't... Don't leave me alone, Spike!' Her screams cut off abruptly, leaving the small park eerily quiet save for Drusilla's low moans.
Willow could feel the power bubbling inside of her. She hadn't reached into that well of magic since she had retrieved Angel from Hell, but she didn't hesitate to draw upon it at that moment. It brimmed within her, and Willow reached outwards.
She stretched, every moment agony. Willow did not back down. With every bit of determination, passion, compassion, need, love, _everything_, she held straight.
Just a bit further...
The reserves of energy within her own body gave way, exhausted by the strain Willow was placing upon herself and the magic she wielded. She reached deeper into herself, drawing upon depths that she'd never imagined within herself before.
She latched onto the world around her, earth and air and water and _life_. She felt the pulsating flow of her friends' beings, and mental fingers caught onto their unfocused life energies, drawing it towards herself. She ruthlessly squashed any guilt at her actions, and once again forced herself forward.
Mental hands reached out, catching the glimmering dust, and _pulled_.
Cordelia gasped, her hand flying to her heart. It felt tight inside her chest, straining and pounding painfully. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she toppled to the damp ground.
Xander collapsed beside her, his breath short and quick. "Willow!" he gasped. He rose to his hands and knees, crawling forward mere centimeters before the weight of his body sent him crashing back down into the grass.
The red head was glowing, tiny blue sparks exploding around her body. Her teeth were gritted, and tears streaked down from her tightly clenched eyes. Watching her through blurring eyes, Cordelia thought that the other girl's body almost seemed to be fading away at the edges.
Angel tore his eyes away from Drusilla's face as he too tumbled to the ground. He shot a horrified glance towards Willow, as if seeing her for the first time. "She's burning herself out -- and us with her!" he croaked. His attempt to rise to his feet was no more successful than Xander's had been.
'She's killing us!' Cordelia realized with horror before the world went dark around her.
~End~