Here Is Gone

By Terri

Chapter 41

The first thing Buffy saw when she arrived back at the Magic Box was the broken window. The window hadn't been so much broken as completely blasted away, and she threw herself through the open door that teetered on one hinge.

The wreckage stunned her and she tried to take in all of it. The circular reading table was flipped upside down and cracked into two pieces. The bookcases behind it had collapsed and all the books lay scattered on the floor. Tara lay unconscious amid the debris, her hair cascading over her face. In the front of the store, the glass counter had been smashed and glass was littered everywhere. Lying in a pool of his own blood, his body facing the open door, one hand outstretched to reach for nothing, was Spike. The vampire's eyes were open, his face blank as he stared straight ahead.

"Buffy!" Willow cried, rushing in.

The witch skidded to a stop beside her friend and they both stared at the damage before them.

"Oh my God," Willow breathed, then she saw Tara. "Oh no! TARA!"

Willow raced to her lover's side, panicked as she shook the other girl. Buffy was relieved to hear a pained moan come from Tara.

"Tara! Oh God, Tara! What happened?!" Willow asked as Tara sat up, one hand on her bloodied forehead.

"The window… it exploded and… I heard Dawn scream…"

"Dawn! Where's Dawn?" Buffy demanded, her eyes sweeping the rubble.

"She was with Spike when…" Tara stopped, looking around the shop until she saw Spike on the floor by the smashed counter. "Oh my God."

"The alarm, Buffy, the one we cast to warn us if Glory showed up, it sounded. I think… I think Glory might have taken Dawn," Willow said, her eyes wide and frightened.

Buffy immediately began ripping through the piles of books and broken wood, tossing them aside in a desperate search for her sister. The two witches watched with tears on their cheeks until Tara managed to make her way to Spike's side.

The vampire was completely still and silent, his eyes open and blank.
He didn't even blink.

"Spike?" Tara whispered, shaking him gently. There was no response.

Suddenly, a foot came from the right, kicking Spike hard in the gut and rolling him away. Shocked, Tara looked up to see an enraged Buffy.

"Where is she?!" Buffy demanded.

Spike's lack of response only served to make her angrier and she kicked him again. "Where's my sister you undead pain in the ass!"

"Buffy…" Tara tried.

"What happened, you bastard!" she yelled, kicking the prone vampire repeatedly.

"Buffy!" Willow cried. "Buffy STOP!"

Panting heavily, the Slayer stopped, her hands clenched into fists and her face stained with tears.

"Buffy… Spike's… he's not responding. I'm… I'm not sure he's even in there anymore," Willow explained.

Tara crawled over to the blank-faced vampire and looked into the wide, staring eyes. "I think… I think he gone inside."

"Oh good lord," Giles' voice breathed and they looked to see the Watcher, Anya and Xander standing in the open doorway.

"The shop! What happened to the shop?" Anya screamed. "The money!"

The ex-demon raced for the toppled cash register as Giles and Xander surveyed the damage.

"Oh man, what happened here?" Xander breathed.

"Giles, Dawn's missing," Buffy said tersely.

"The advance warning alarm sounded. We think… we think it might have been Glory," Willow added.

"Glory?" Giles repeated, stunned. "How?"

"We don't know. Spike might know, but he's zombie-vamp," Buffy replied.

"He's gone catatonic, Giles," Willow explained worriedly. "He's not responding at all."

Giles walked through the sea of shattered glass to where Willow and Tara sat by the vampire's side. Judging by the amount of blood on the floor and on Spike, the vampire had not gone down quietly, but the open, blank stare on Spike's face worried him. He leaned down and shook the vampire on the shoulder.

"Spike." He shook a little harder when he got no response. "Spike!"

"It's no use, Mr. Giles," Tara said.

Giles sighed. "Unfortunately, if what you say is true and Glory does have Dawn, then we need Spike because he is the only one who has any idea where Glory would have taken her."

"Why?" Buffy demanded. "Why would Spike know where Glory took Dawn?
What else are you keeping from us, Giles?"

Giles sighed again. "I know that Spike has done extensive legwork on Glory and her plans to use the Key. It's been his obsession for the last few months."

"Oh and here I thought Buffy was his obsession. Nice to know the guy can split his attentions like that," Xander commented irritably.

"Xander, not now," Buffy snapped back.

"It is true that Spike has been… preoccupied with his feelings for Buffy…"

"He loves her," Dawn interjected. "And me."

"Yes, I do believe he does," Giles agreed. "As such, keeping the two of you safe has been his priority. I have yet to determine how much his presence and actions have affected this situation. I know there has been a great deal that he has done in the demon world. What he has uncovered, he has been reluctant to tell me, probably because he thought I would not help him. I have no doubt that he knows more about Glory and the ceremony than he has let on."

"Because Spike never keeps secrets and tells lies," Buffy snarked.

Giles ignored her comment. "It is quite possible that Spike has an idea of where the ceremony is taking place and when. We need to do everything we can to bring him back from wherever he has gone."

"I can try to do that Giles," Willow offered. "There are some spells…"

"Good, Willow. You do that," he confirmed.

"In the meantime, we can go through this box of scrolls Spike had me get from this creepy guy's apartment," Buffy said, indicating the small wooden chest she had dropped on the floor when she returned to the Magic Box.

"Who?" Giles asked.

Buffy picked up the box and handed it to Giles. "Spike told me about this demon guy he killed. He said he heard that he was a follower of Glory and might have a box of scrolls that could help us, but that he never got a chance to go check it out. I told him I would go."

She looked around at the wreckage, frowning guiltily.

"It was why I wasn't here when… Giles you don't think…"

The older man cut her off. "No. I seriously doubt he knew Glory would attack that quickly. If he had, he most certainly would have urged us to move faster. It is likely that he was taken by surprise."

"Still, if I'd been here…"

"You would most probably have been killed or otherwise defeated by her. Glory is very strong," he assured.

"You're probably right," she conceded.

"Well, let's see what's in this box, shall we. Where did you say Spike sent you?"

"Some rat's nest on the other side of town. Real dump that smelled awful. Spike said he killed the guy who lived there."

"Was there a body?" Anya asked suddenly.

Buffy's brow creased. "Actually, no there wasn't. But there was a big bloodstain on the rug. Struck me as odd because Spike isn't known for cleaning up after himself."

Anya looked thoughtful for a moment, then gave a confident smile. "It was probably scavengers. There are demons that eat carrion."

Buffy crinkled up her nose. "Ewwww. So did not need to know that."

"Here, let's clear a space and see what these scrolls have to offer. I doubt we have much time so we need to work quickly," Giles said.

"We're just about ready here, Mr. Giles," Willow announced from where she and Tara sat by Spike.

"Very good. I hope you succeed in bringing him back."

"So I can kill him," Buffy added lowly.

Giles ignored her as he cleared away a safe spot to sit and read the scrolls.

********

Willow lit the incense and cast the spell that would allow her access to Spike's mind. Breathing in deeply, she recited the words and felt her consciousness slip inwards, going through a dark tunnel. When she finally stopped moving, she opened her eyes to see a dark and barren wasteland. The earth was blackened and devoid of all life, fissures in the ground belched foul-smelling smoke. The sky was blood red with ominous black clouds and thunder rumbled in the distance. Looking
around across the empty plain, she spied a fortress looming on the horizon.

Guess that's where I need to go, the young witch thought.

As she made her way across the scorched earth, Willow realized that it wasn't as empty as she had originally thought. All along the way, there were bodies, covered in black ash, littered on the ground. At first, she thought it was a battlefield and that the corpses were fallen soldiers, but then she realized that the dead ranged from the very young to the very old, with men and women of all ages in between.

His victims, she realized, gasping.

Tears stung her eyes as she lost count of the dead; pitiful, twisted bodies strewn all long her way. They were silent as she passed, and only the howling wind answered her unspoken prayers. It sickened her to see them, contorted in their death throes: a young woman preserved in a silent scream here, a man with a railroad spike jutting out of his eye socket there. Hundreds of them, thousands of them; the accumulated carnage of a century of killing, and she wondered to herself how she could have ever considered this creature to be her friend. How she could ever have turned her back to him or left him with her lover or trusted him in any way.

He was an unrepentant killer for over a hundred years. He tried to kill Buffy lots of times. He tried to kill me, and Xander. The only thing that stopped him was the chip. What could Tara have been talking about when she said he'd changed?

But hadn't he? He'd been helping them for the past year. He'd taken beatings and risked his unlife to keep the rest of them safe. And Tara insisted on multiple occasions that Spike deserved better treatment from them. But how could he when he had killed so many without remorse or mercy?

It doesn't matter right now. We need him, so I have to get him back.

The ground rumbled beneath her feet and she felt a shiver of fear run up her spine. Stepping up her pace she hurried for the fortress, feeling an urgency she hadn't felt before. Eyes were watching her, she just knew it. She could feel them staring holes into her back, and she began to run. Snarls came from behind her and the sound of rushing feet dogged her heels. Terror seized her and she raced across the open plain, praying that she would reach safety before whatever was behind her managed to catch up.

The ground she thought was flat proved to be anything but as holes opened underneath her feet as she ran, tripping her up and adding to her growing panic. The snarls were still behind her and getting closer, but she was almost to the forbidding walls of the fortress. Picking herself up off the blackened ground where she had fallen beside the body of a teenaged girl, she wrenched her gaze away from the horror of the girl's screaming face and made a final dash.

She hit the solid metal doors, sobbing with relief as she found it unlocked. Grabbing the heavy handle in both hands she pulled with all her strength. The door creaked but did not open. Half mad with panic, knowing her pursuers were almost at the gates, she yanked as hard as she could, feeling the rusted hinges begin to give way. She screamed and pulled again, and the heavy door screamed back as it screeched open.

Only opening it wide enough to squeeze her thin body through, she slammed the door behind her and threw the heavy bar. Twin thuds thumped against the other side, nails scraping across the metal, and two howls rose up over the high wall, as she paused a moment to catch her breath and calm down before she took stock of her surroundings.

Leaning against the barred door, she turned around and looked upon an empty stone courtyard. There were no bodies here, in fact it looked as if the open space had been swept completely clean, and there was another door directly across from her, this one wooden and arched. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she staggered her way across the courtyard, and put her hand on the door handle. It, too, was unlocked, but appeared to have been unused for a long time.

It didn't take as much effort to open this door as it had the larger, outer one, and soon she found herself looking down a long, stone hallway. Closing the door behind her, she kept an ear out for any dangers or surprises, and made her way down the hall. There was an opening off to her left and she turned to find a half open door.
Flickering light was coming from behind the door, so she slipped in quietly and found herself in a library. The flickering light was coming from a fire crackling in the large stone hearth, but it was who was sitting beside said fire that made her gasp.

His hair was sandy brown and a riot of soft curls that defied their owner by slipping out of the band he tried to keep it in. Thin wire glasses perched daintily upon his sharp nose as he held a well-loved book in his delicate, perfectly manicured hand. He was dressed as a Victorian gentleman in gray tweed, one leg crossed over the other as he read the book in his hand. A cup of tea, long forgotten, sat on the table beside him, along with a small plate of crackers and sausage.

"Spike?" Willow gasped, shattering the quiet.

The figure jumped, dropping the book, and looked at her with shocked eyes.

"Oh! Oh dear…" he stammered, scrambling to pick up the book.

He handled it with great care, stroking the spine to make sure it hadn't been broken.

"Spike, is that you?" she tried again, taking a tentative step closer.

"Spike? Who? Oh no, not I. I am not… he," he replied.

The resemblance was remarkable. Take away the brown hair and tweed, and replace them with platinum blonde and black leather, and it was Spike without a doubt. Her quick mind quickly tried to figure out what was going on.

"William?" she offered.

The Spike look-alike stood up tall and straightened his jacket. "Yes. I am William."

Okay, like, totally weird. Spike was a real nerd when he was alive.

"Um, hi. I'm Willow."

William bowed stiffly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Willow, although I am confused as to how you came to be here."

"I came in through the front door."

He looked surprised. "You did? You crossed the… oh. Oh, I see." He dropped his eyes and turned away.

"Yeah, I crossed the field full of bodies."

"The cemetery… yes."

"It's kinda creepy out there, actually."

William nodded. "Yes. Yes, I am aware." He raised his eyes to her again. "You must be very brave."

"Well, I kinda needed to get in here. I'm looking for someone. Hey, maybe you know him. He looks a lot like you only he's got bleached blonde hair and wears a lot of black."

William stiffened and stared at her. "Him? What… what do you want with him?"

"I need his help. Can you tell me where he is?"

William shook his head sadly. "I don't think he can help you, m'lady. He's… he's been indisposed for quite some time. I haven't seen him in a good while. He used to come and taunt me, tease me about my reading and poetry."

"Poetry?" Willow repeated.

William sniffed and turned up his nose. "I'm quite good, really." Eyes opened wide in hope. "Would you like to see?"

"Umm, sure."

He gave her a brilliant smile and scrambled to retrieve a yellowed note pad from a shelf. He handed it to her proudly, and fidgeted his hands as she read the neat handwriting.

"Effulgent?" she repeated.

He gave her a shy smile. "It was my last work. I died before I could write another."

"Whoa. You died?"

"Well, yes, of course. Mr. Parker stole the notepad from me and read the work aloud. It wasn't finished, of course, and the ink was still a bit wet, but… Afterwards, my lovely Cecily rejected me and I ran out into the street." His eyes grew misty and far away. "That's when *she* found me. She saw me, saw what was inside of me and wanted me to be with her. I agreed. It hurt. When she bit me, that is. Hurt a lot, but then it didn't hurt anymore and I went somewhere far away.
It was nice there. Peaceful. I could see what was happening to what remained of my body, but I was somewhat removed. It did not affect me."

He paused and looked around the library. "And then I came to be here. Something happened. The demon… the one you called Spike. He… I was called back. We really didn't get along at first. In fact, we rather loathed each other. It was quite unpleasant. But then *they* came, and he protected me from them. He said I would be safe in here, and so far that has been true. They haven't been able to cross the threshold. They tried for a while, but then they stopped trying.
That's when he stopped coming to check on me…"

Willow creased her brow, trying to take it all in. Then her eyes opened wide as the truth dawned on her and she gasped, covering her mouth with both hands.

"Oh my goddess. You're his *soul!*"

William blinked at her. "Well, yes. I suppose I am."

She stared at him in abject shock. "What… how… Was Spike cursed?"

"Cursed? Good Lord, no. He chose me."

"Chose you? How?"

"The demon he went to gave me to him."

"Demon? What demon?"

"The one in Africa. The one he went to see after…" He stopped, looking away and lowering his eyes. A slight shudder passed through his thin frame.

"After?..." she prompted.

William shook his head. "After. In the time before."

Willow was confused but she knew she had to let it go. She was running out of time and she had to get Spike back if they wanted to save Dawn.

"Look. I don't understand, but I don't have time right now. I need to find Spike. Can you tell me where he is?"

William looked at the half open door and shied away, wringing his hands. "I cannot leave this room. They'll get me if I do. You should stay here with me. You'll be safe here. The tea cup is always full and the plate replenishes itself…"

Willow motioned for him to be silent. "I can't. People are depending on me. Glory has Dawn and Spike might know where she's been taken. I have to find him and get him to come back with me."

"Oh. I see."

"Can you tell me if he's here in this fortress?"

William nodded slowly. "Yes. I've never seen him go… out."

"Okay. I'm gonna go look for him."

He looked at her with worried, frightened eyes. "Do be careful, Miss Willow. Don't let *them* get you."

She set her jaw and nodded. "I won't." She turned and put a hand on the door jam before casting him a backward glance. "And thanks."

"You're most welcome," he whispered back as she left him behind. "Good luck."

I'm gonna need it, she thought to herself as she stepped back into the stone hall.

Chapter 42

Buffy walked over the where Tara was sitting vigil over her lover and the catatonic vampire.

“Any change?”

Tara shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, Buffy. But I’m sure Willow is doing everything she can to bring Spike back. It just might take some time.”

“We don’t have time, and every minute Glory has Dawn, the less of it we have.”

Tara frowned. “I know, but…”

“Buffy...” Giles called.

Turning her head, the Slayer looked at her Watcher and sighed.

“Let me know if she so much as twitches,” she said to Tara.

Tara nodded and gave her a watery smile.

“What did you find?” she asked

Giles hesitated, then haltingly answered, “Well, according to these scrolls, there is a way to stop Glory.”

Buffy waited for him to continue, but when he finally did, his voice was awkward and unsure.

“I'm afraid it... Buffy. I've read these very carefully. There's not much margin for error. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“Might help if you actually said it,” she replied dryly.

“Glory plans to open a dimensional portal by way of ritual bloodletting,” he told her sadly.

“Dawn's blood?”

“Yes. Once the blood is shed at a certain time and place, the fabric separating all realities will be ripped apart. Dimensions will pour into one another with no barriers to stop them. Reality as we know it will be destroyed, and chaos will reign on Earth.”

“So how do we stop it?”

“The portal will only close once the blood is stopped. And the only way for that to happen is ...” He paused then looked directly at Buffy and said grimly, “Buffy- the only way is to kill Dawn.”

Buffy gave him a blank stare then set her jaw. “Not an option. Give me something else.”

“Buffy... we might not have any choice.”

“Explain it to me again,” she insisted calmly and slowly.

“The Key was living energy. It needed to be channeled, poured into a specific spot at a specific time. With all attendant ritual, of course. The energy would flow into that spot, the walls between the dimensions break down. It stops -- the
energy is used up -and the walls come back up. Glory uses that time to get back to her dimension, not caring that all manner of hell will be unleashed on Earth in the meantime,” Giles answered.

“But only for a little while, right? The walls come back, no more hell?” Anya interrupted.

“But that's only if the energy is stopped. And now that the Key is human ... is Dawn ...” Tara replied, proving to the others that she was listening from her spot on the floor.

“The blood flows, the gates will open. The gates will close when it flows no more,” Giles recited from the scroll. “That will be when Dawn is dead.”

“Why blood? Why is it Dawn's blood, why couldn't it be, like, a lymph ritual?” Xander huffed, upset.

“Because blood is life,” Tara whispered.

There was a pause as everyone digested what Tara had said, then Buffy moved on.

“Okay, pretty simple math, here. We stop Glory before she can start the ritual. There's still a few hours, right?”

“If my calculations are right, but Buffy...”

“I don't want to hear it...”

“I understand that...” he tried again.

“No you don't understand! We're not talking about this!” she yelled.

“Yes we bloody well are!” Giles yelled back, standing up. “If Glory begins the ritual... If we can't stop her ...”

Buffy stepped up to him, defiant and enraged. “Say it. Come on, we're bloody well talking about this, tell me to kill my sister!”

“She's not your sister,” he reminded softly.

“No. She's not. She's more than that.” Buffy stopped, trying to find the right words. “More than family... my sister, my daughter...”

“She's your sister and your daughter?” Xander said, confused.

“She's me. The Monks made her out of me. I hold her and I feel closer to her than... It's more than just the memories they built, it's physical, it's... Dawn is a part of me. The only part that I...”

She stopped unable to go on. Tara left her place by Willow and Spike’s side, and came over to hug her.

“We’ll solve this. We will,” the young witch promised.

“Buffy, if the ritual starts, every living creature in this and every other dimension imaginable will suffer unbearable torment and Death. Including Dawn,” Giles said sadly.

“Then the last thing she'll see is me protecting her.”

Giles shook his head. “You'll fail. You'll die. We all will.”

“I'm sorry. I love you all, but I'm sorry.”

Anya raised her hand. “Okay, all in favor of stopping Glory BEFORE the ritual! Suggestions? Ideas? Time's a-wastin' ... Oh! Willow! I bet Willow’s got some dark
spell a'brewin'. Make her a toad, little hoppy toad, then we hit her with a hammer...”

“What about Ben? He can be killed, right? I mean, I know he's an innocent, but, you know, not, like ‘Dawn’ innocent. We could kill... a regular guy...” Xander offered, then hung his head when Giles looked at him. “God...”

“It's doubtful he'll surface again this close to the ritual. Especially after the Knights’ failed assassination attempt. We have to expect it's Glory we're dealing with,” Giles countered.

Anya began to panic. “Well somebody come up with something!”

“Should we join essences and become superslayer again?” Xander suggested.

“That worked against Frankenbot, but to kill a true god... I don't think it's enough. And I need you guys conscious ...” Buffy replied with a sad shrug.

“But we don't have to kill her, just stop her from performing the ritual. I mean, there's just the one time she can do it, right?” Tara said.

“Yeah, we get her on the ropes, we just gotta keep her occupied till it's too late!” Xander enthused.

“Okay, but I'm still not hearing enough ideas, she's a god, let's think outside the box!”

“Anya, apart from your incredibly uninfectious enthusiasm, have you anything to contribute? Any ideas on how to fight a god?” Giles commented testily.

“How about we don't pick on my gi...” Xander began but Anya cut him off.

“The Dagon's Sphere!” the ex-demon piped up.

“Sorry?” Giles said.

“When Buffy first met Glory she found that magical glowy sphere that was meant to repel Glory. We've got it in the basement. It might drive her back, or hurt her... oh!” She ran across the room and waved at the Troll Hammer. “And Olaf the Trollgod's enchanted hammer. You wanna fight a god, use the weapon of a god.”

Buffy crossed to it and picked it up, hefting it easily.

“I like this.”

“Built for squashin'!” Anya cheered, waving her fist.

“Good heft to it. I just might do some damage with this. Thanks Anya.”

“Here to help. Want to live,” came the simple reply.

“Well. We have some ideas. And a little time to come up with some more. Could give Glory a decent run, but ...” Giles said.

They all looked to where Spike still lay motionless and staring with Willow, her eyes closed, sitting cross-legged next to him.

“But we still have no idea how to find her,” Buffy murmured.

Chapter 43

Willow walked down the stone hall, eyes searching for any sign of Spike or the mysterious *they* William had warned her about. There were doors, lots of them, lining the hall, and more halls of more doors branching off of the corridor she was in.

‘He could be anywhere, in any of these rooms,’ she thought sadly. ‘It could take forever for me to look through all of them.’

Resolutely, she placed on hand on a random doorknob. “Well, here goes nothing...”

She turned the knob and gave the door a trial push. It gave, creaking slightly, and swung open.

“Spike? Spike are you in here?” she called, peering into the darkened room.

But it wasn’t a room at all. It was the alley behind the Magic Box and it was day. Spike was there in the shadows, smoking a cigarette. She rushed up to him.

“Spike!”

He did not appear to see or hear her.

“Spike?” she tried again, waving her hand in front of his face.

Spike did not acknowledge her, but turned his head when the back door of the shop opened and a somber Buffy stepped out.

“Buffy!” she cried, but the other woman did not seem to see her either.

‘What is going on here? I feel like Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol...’

“Buffy,” he greeted.

Buffy looked at him, surprised. “Spike. It's daylight and you're ...”

“Not on fire? Sun's low. Is shady enough here.”

Buffy nodded in understanding. Spike sat on a packing crate, and gestured to the space beside him. Buffy sat down next to him.

“I was gonna go in, but I overheard you and the Super-friends sharing ‘a special moment’ and I came over a bit queasy.”

He threw down the cigarette butt.

“Say, aren't you leaving a hole in the middle of some soggy group hug?”

“I wanted a little time alone.”

“Oh. Right then...” he stood and headed for the alley entrance, but stopped at the edge of the sunlight.

“That's okay. I can be alone with you here.”

“Thanks ever so.”

“Right.”

He returned to her, his face concerned and Willow wondered what she was witnessing and when it happened.

“Buff? Slayer? You okay?”

She looked at him and nodded. “I’m here. I’m good.”

“Buffy, if you're in-- if you're in pain. Or if you need anything... If I can help you...”

“You can't.”

“Well, I haven't been to a Hell dimension just of late, but I know a thing or two about torment.”

‘Hell dimension?’ Willow thought.

“I was happy,” Buffy replied.

“I don't ...”

“Wherever I ... was ... I was happy. At peace. I knew that everyone I cared about was all right. I knew it. Time didn't mean anything, nothing had form... but I was still me, you know? And I was warm and I was loved... and I was finished. Complete. I don't understand about dimensions or theology or any of ... but I think I was in heaven.”

Spike stared at her, a horrified look on his face. Buffy looked back at him, sad and somber.

“And now I'm not.”

“Buffy...” Spike tried.

“I was torn out of there. Ripped out of there by my friends. And everything here is bright and hard and violent... Everything I feel, everything I touch... this is Hell. Just getting through the next moment, and the one after that... knowing what I've lost ....”

Buffy stopped, clearly unable to say any more. She rose and walked into the sunlight, leaving a speechless Spike in the shadows.

“They can never know. Never,” Buffy said over her shoulder, then walked away slowly.

‘What the hell was *that*?’ Willow thought, shaking off the creepy feeling that had settled on her and hurrying out the door.

She closed it tight and leaned against it, breathing heavily, then she moved down and opened the next door.

This one was Spike’s old crypt. Buffy was sitting in the gloom on the vampire’s old chair. Spike was there as well, facing her, leaning against the television. His heads was bowed, his shoulder slumped. Once again, neither of them acknowledged her presence.

“I do remember what I said. The promise. To protect her. If I'd done that ... even if I didn't make it, you wouldn't've had to jump,” Spike suddenly said.

‘Jump?’

“But I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course. But after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again, do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways ...” Spike paused then added emphatically. “Every night I save you.”

The broken look on Buffy’s face was too much and Willow practically ran out.

‘What the hell is going on here?!’

She began opening doors, thrusting her head into each of them to see where they led. Each appeared to be some kind of scene that occurred between Spike and Buffy. One had them riding on a motorcycle together, and another had them talking over whiskey in the lower level of Spike’s crypt.

‘I didn’t know it looked like that down there...’

Still another had Buffy screaming at Spike as she beat him mercilessly in an alleyway while he did nothing to defend himself. Then there was the one of him and Buffy obviously having sex even though they were pretty well concealed under a rug.

‘Whoa. Twisted fantasy there...’ she thought, quickly shutting that door.

More and more scenes, some violent, some sweet, some tragic, showed themselves to her as she made her way down the hall. Again, most of them were of Buffy and Spike, but a few had her and the others in them. She saw Joyce’s death and Riley’s transgressions, and perhaps the most telling, her own lover Tara as a victim of Glory’s brain sucking. Then she came to the last door in the corridor she was in and she opened it.

It was night in a place she did not recognize, but she saw herself and all of the other scoobies there. They were at a construction site, and there were rubble and human and demon bodies all over the place. There was no sign of Buffy or Dawn, but Spike was lying on the ground at the base of this huge rickety tower, obviously severely wounded. He was looking up at the top of the tower so she looked up too, in time to see a huge portal open up in mid air and all manner of demons and black energy come spewing out.

‘Oh my God...’

Then a lone figure leaped off of the tower, arms spread, and she screamed as she saw that it was Buffy. Her scream was echoed by a howl from Spike as they both watched Buffy plummet to her death.

“BUFFY!” Willow cried.

A hand landed on her shoulder suddenly and she screamed again, spinning to find William, pale and panting, behind her.

“You won’t find him here,” William said.

Shaking, swallowing her grief and terror, she nodded and allowed him to take her out. Back in the hallway, she staggered and lost her balance, collapsing to her knees. Young William knelt next to her, his face concerned.

“It struck me as unseemly for a gentleman to allow a lady to go off into danger unescorted,” he said.

“What... What was that?” she demanded of him, tears on her cheeks.

“The time before,” came the cryptic reply.

“That makes no sense. None of that ever happened. What is this place?”

He looked at the door-lined hallway then back to her. “It’s where we keep the memories we’d like to forget.”

“But none of that *ever* happened!”

He looked at her sadly and rose to his feet. She stood as well, forcing her legs to do her bidding. He regarded her for a long time, then sighed and motioned for her to follow him.

“I don’t like to come down here. It’s unpleasant, but I think, in this case, sadly unavoidable,” he told her as he took a side passageway and bade her to open one of the doors. It revealed another intimate scene between Buffy and Spike.

“It was love, but it was tainted, you see. His by the demon inside him and hers by the suffering she had endured,” William explained as he took the doorknob from her hand and closed the door.

“I don’t understand.”

“Time isn’t linear,” he offered as an explanation. “It can loop back upon itself.”

She creased her brow, trying to process. “Are you saying that Spike went back in time?”

“The demon deemed us worthy.”

“So... all of that... actually happened.”

It was almost too much to handle.

“He couldn’t save her. Not from the Hell God who took her sister or from herself after she was brought back from the dead.”

“Brought back from the dead? Who would do such a thing?”

He regarded her with eyes that reflected back her own fears.

“He couldn’t save you either.”

“Oh. Oh no. No, I would never...” she emphatically denied.

He held up one thin finger. “Never say never, Miss Willow. None of us can say what we will or will not do. He certainly never intended to become what we became. Sometimes our choices are taken from us by our passions.”

He opened another door for her and she witnessed the painful reenactment of an attempted rape. She almost retched in the hall.

“Oh my God.”

“They were destroying each other with their own pain,” William said.

He led her to yet another door and turned the knob. She held her breath, dreading what she would see on the other side, and found herself in a cavern painted with gruesome and disturbing cave paintings. Then a severed demon head came from around a bend, followed by a weary and bloodied Spike. In his hand was another severed demon head.

“Right then. That was a bloody doddle and a piece o'piss...” Spike said defiantly as he tossed the second head to the ground and dropped to his knees.

“Got any more tests, ya ruddy ponce? I'll take anything you throw at me. If it'll get me what I need to take care of the Slayer, give her what's coming to her, you just bring it on. Bring on the whole...” he asked snarkily, then stopped as something started moving under the soil. “Bloody hell...”

His face hardened and he tensed as hundreds and hundreds of scarab beetles erupted from the earth and began to swarm all over him.

Willow cringed as they crawled over his screaming face and poured into his mouth.

“Oh, oh my god. Oh my god...”

She tried to back away, but a hand stopped her and she saw that it was William, his face grim.

“There’s more.”

She stood, transfixed as she watched the beetles swarm then recede, leaving a prone, battered Spike in their wake. He lay there for several moments and she wasn’t sure if he was conscious or even still alive, when he suddenly drew breath. Willow then saw a monstrous gnarled demon shuffle up to loom over him. His eyes fluttered open and he stared at the ceiling.

“You have endured the required trials,” the demon said.

“Bloody right I have,” Spike replied, weak but defiant. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. “So, give me what I want. Make me what I was... so Buffy can get what she deserves.”

“Very well,” the demon agreed, reaching out a scaled hand to touch Spike’s chest. “We will return... your soul.”

White light flooded the cave and Spike screamed in agony.

Willow rounded on William. “I thought you said he chose you.”

William nodded. “He did.”

“No, he didn’t. That demon just tricked him!”

William shook his head. “Spike’s goal was always to regain his soul.”

“But how could he...”

“Because the demon loved her, but knew Buffy would never love him back without a soul. I know this because he would never have been sent back to correct things if the demon hadn’t chosen the soul willingly.”

Stunned, Willow made her way back out into the hall. William followed at her shoulder. She stopped, leaning against the stone wall, her eyes closed and her fists clenched, then she glared up at the man standing before her.

“You aren’t William,” she accused.

The man shook his head. “I’m the part of him that wants you to find him.”

“Where is he?”

The man began to fade from sight, growing translucent and out of focus.

“Below,” came the reply before the apparition disappeared.

‘Below? Ah, dungeon...’ she reasoned and hurried to find a flight of stairs that went down.

Chapter 44

It wasn’t difficult to find a stairwell that led down into the bowels of the fortress. Forcing herself to descend down the passageway was another thing entirely. The way was dark and stank of mold and decay, and the stairs were slippery with god knew what, but she slowly made her way down into the blackness.

Using a simple illumination spell, she created a small light to guide her way down the narrow corridor. The walls were close and the ceiling low, but she had no troubles finding the dungeon door. It was low and made of heavy wood, and there was a small barred window in it. Using both hands, she pulled free the heavy bolt and opened the door to the chamber.

The room was dark and silent, and it smelled foul. Old straw littered the stone floor and the remnants of manacles and shackles hung from the walls, along with a very colorful assortment of weapons and torture instruments. There was a series of cells lining the far wall and another solid door with a barred window at the end of the chamber. Holding her little light high, she looked around and in the far corner, she thought she saw a faint hint of movement and moved towards it.

There, huddled in the darkest corner, with his hands wrapped around his knees, was the true William. He raised frightened eyes to her as she approached and tried to make himself even smaller than he already had.

“Don’t be afraid,” she soothed, coming near.

His face was dirty and streaked with blood and tears.

“Who are you?” he asked in a faltering voice.

She knelt beside him. “I’m Willow. I’m a friend. I’m here to find Spike.”

William cast a nervous glace at the barred wooden door. “I… I don’t think you can…can go in there.”

She looked at the door, secured with a heavy chain and huge padlock. Rising, she fiddled with the locking mechanism.

“You... you shouldn’t do that. They’ll be angry if you do. You... you should get out of here.”

She looked at the scared man on the floor. “I’m not leaving without the two of you. We’re going to get out of here.”

William shook his head, one fist coming up to stifle his sudden sobs. “No... no no one can help us. The wreck... the wreck of our memories sinks forever.”

“Hey. That was pretty good. You *are* a poet,” she said, trying to distract him.

“It’s... it’s not mine.”

“Oh,” she commented, biting her lip as she examined the lock more closely.

“You... you really should go. They’ll be back soon. They’ll be so cross if they find you here...”

She lifted the heavy lock, placing one hand over the locking handle and impressing her will upon it.

“Release,” she ordered softly, feeling a rush of pleasure as she felt the bolt give way.

A shocked gasp came from William and he tried to scramble away from her. “Oh. Oh dear. They’ll be so cross...”

“Look. I said I’m not leaving without you. Don’t worry about who might show up. Spike and I can handle ‘em.”

“You don’t know. You don’t know how terrible they are.”

She gave him a confidant smile as she pulled free the chain and dropped it and the padlock to the floor with a heavy clang.

“Yeah? Well I’ve faced quite a few Big Bads in my day and I’ve come out okay. It’ll be alright William. We just have to get Spike and get out of here. Stay here. I’ll be right out.”

Without further hesitation, she pulled open the cell door and stepped in.

“Spike?” she called, holding her little light high to illuminate the gloom.

“You shouldn’t be here, Red,” came a raspy voice from the shadows.

Turning towards the source of the sound, she found Spike naked from the waist up and hanging from a set of chains fastened to the roof of the cell. His arms were stretched high above his head and he was dangling just enough to that only his toes touched the ground. He was laced with whip and burn marks, his skin hanging in ribbons in places and streaked with blood.

“Well, at least you see me and know who I am. That’s an improvement,” she replied, going to him.

She raised one hand and concentrated on the manacles. “Release,” she ordered, and the restraints unlocked under her command causing Spike to collapse to the hard floor with a groan.

“Can you walk?” she asked, crouching down beside him.

“Ow. Don’t be Florence Bloody Nightingale now, Wicca,” Spike groused, slowly getting his legs underneath him. As he picked himself up into a kneeling position, Willow got a good look at what was left of his back and winced.

“Goddess, Spike. Geeze...”

He gave her a withering glance. “Yeah? Well what were you expectin’? It’s a bloody torture chamber, an’ there’s nothin’ my maker an’ her soddin’ daddy like better than a decent spot of torture.”

“Angelus and Drusilla did this to you?” she asked, helping him as best she could.

He looked at her through one swollen eye. “Who else beats me like this?” He dropped his gaze. “Except for Buffy. But I haven’t the guts to conjure ‘er into this nightmare. Bloody spineless wanker I am.”

“Spike, listen. Glory has Dawn and you’re the only one who knows where she is. You have to come back with me. You have to take us to where Glory has Dawn.”

Still on his knees, Spike hung his head. “Won’t do any good, Red. I can’t change it. Been tryin’. Been tryin’ with all my might, but nothin’ seems ta make a difference. Everything I knew, everythin’ I did ta try ta change what happened, it all just blew up in my face. It’s useless.”

“No it isn’t. Look, I *saw* what happened. I took a little trip down your musical door memory lane. I *know* how much you changed. Now maybe you didn’t change everything you wanted to, or maybe some things couldn’t be changed, but you can’t give up now. Regardless, you have to be there to help Buffy fight the final fight against Glory.”

“What, and watch her die again? Watch her jump off that bloody tower because I was too much of a failure? Because I couldn’t do one damned thing right?” he snapped back, breathing heavily. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just stay here.”

“You can’t stay here, Spike. When you kept Tara from going out to be brain-sucked, we lost our guide to Glory. Without you to show us the way, Glory will perform the ritual, Dawn *and* Buffy will die and so will the rest of the world with it,” she argued.

He looked away, defeated. “I can’t... I can’t Wills...”

“So you’re just going to let Dawn and Buffy and the whole world die because things didn’t go the way you thought they would?”

“I...”

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” came a sneering voice that Willow knew all too well.

She looked to the doorway and saw Angelus and Drusilla standing there. Angelus held a whimpering William by the back of his neck.

“I... told you... they’d be cross,” William choked.

“Repulso!” Willow commanded, thrusting out her hand.

A wave of red energy burst forth from her palm, knocking the two vampires backwards and out of the cell. The shock made Angelus release William and the man fell to the floor.

“Wow, Red,” Spike breathed appreciatively.

“Best defense is a good offense. C’mon,” she answered, bending down to take his arm and urge him to his feet.

He rose, staggering, but went with her, leaning heavily upon her for support.

“C’mon ponce, get a move on,” Spike groused to William as they approached the cell door.

Still whimpering, William did as ordered and got to his feet.

“Bloody Hell I was such a wanker. Why couldn’t I have asked for Bruce Lee’s soul?”

Willow managed to chuckle as she helped Spike out of the cell. Crossing the threshold, she saw that Angelus was still down, but she couldn’t see Drusilla. She didn’t have time to wonder where Spike’s Sire had disappeared to because Drusilla grabbed her and yanked her backwards.

“Nasty girlie. Spoil all our fun. Naughty,” the vampiress scolded, knocking Spike from her grasp and sending the injured vampire slamming into a wall covered with weapons.

Willow growled and grabbed Drusilla’s hands, pulling them from her hair.

“Repulso!” she yelled, sending the insane vampire flying across the chamber.

“Reveale!” she then ordered, raising her hand to grab the stake that materialized in her palm.

Drusilla screamed a challenge and rushed at her, but she was ready. She ducked and spun as the vampire lunged, coming up behind her and swinging the stake home. Drusilla exploded into dust with a shriek.

“Wow. I did it,” Willow mused, surprised and pleased with herself.

“I’ll kill all of you for that, bitch,” Angelus threatened, grabbing William and preparing to bite him.

Scrambling, she looked for an opportunity and a way to save the terrified man, but then a shadow rose up behind Angelus and she saw Spike swing a sword he’d taken from the wall of weapons Drusilla had tossed him into. The sword arced through the air and neatly lopped off Angelus’ head, making the body disintegrate into a pile of dust.

Dropping the sword with a heavy thump, Spike stared down at what was left of his tormentor.

“He might be a ponce, but he’s *my* ponce,” he snarked.

William shakily got up, brushing off his dusty clothes. “Th... thank you.”

“Spike, are you ready to go?” Willow asked.

“I’m half afraid to tell you no, Red. You might send me flying through a wall or ram that pretty stake right through my chest,” he answered, still standing on shaky legs.

Willow looked at the stake in her hand, then dropped it.

“Buffy and Dawn need us, and I came all the way here to find you. If you’re coming with me, we have to leave now.”

Spike placed a hand on William’s shoulder and the two of them rose to their full height, each silently supporting the other.

“We are with you, Miss Willow,” William replied.

Spike sighed. “Yeah. Lead on, Wicca. We’ll be right with you.”

Willow flashed him a brilliant smile and led the way out of the dungeon. They followed slowly behind.

Chapter 45

Buffy was pounding away on the bag, trying to burn off energy when Giles entered the training room.

“You sure you're not going to tire yourself out?” he asked softly.

“I'm sure,” she replied, not missing a beat.

“We're still working on ideas. Time's short, but it's best to wait 'til the last minute. If we go in too early and she takes us out, there’s no chance of getting her to miss her window.”

“So we wait,” she said sending one last punch. The chain snapped and the bag flew a few feet before hitting the ground.

“I imagine you hate me right now,” he sighed.

She turned to face him. “Little bit. But I understand.”

“I love Dawn,” he assured.

“I know.”

“But I have sworn to protect this sorry world, and sometimes that means saying and doing... what other people can't. What they shouldn't have to.”

“You try to hurt her, you know I'll stop you,” she warned.

“I know.”

They stared each other down for a moment, then Buffy crossed to the couch and sat down. Giles sat beside her.

“How many apocalypses is this for us?” she asked casually.

“Well, six, at least. Seems like a hundred.”

“I've always stopped them. Always won.”

“Yes,” he answered simply.

“I sacrificed Angel to save the world. I loved him so much... but I knew what was right. I don't have that any more. I don't understand. I don't know how to live in this world, if these are the choices, if everything's just stripped away then I don't see the point. I just wish... I wish my mom was here,” she admitted, tears in her eyes.

Just then Xander ran in, skidding to a hasty stop. “Buffy... Willow and Spike, they just woke up!”

She nodded at him and stood. As she was starting to leave, she turned back.

“The spirit guide told me that Death was my gift. I guess that means a Slayer really is just a killer after all.”

“I think you're wrong about that.”

“It doesn't matter. If Dawn dies, then I'm done with it. I'm quitting.”

With that, she walked out of the training room, leaving Giles alone with his thoughts.

She spied Spike, Willow and Tara on the floor where she had left them, only Spike was sitting up now and shaking his head. Willow was saying something to him and urging him to stand.

Buffy clenched her fists and stalked over to them.

“Where is she?” she demanded. “Where’s my sister?!”

She raised her fist, prepared to strike Spike if need be, but then Willow amazed her by stepping in-between them.

“I won’t let you hurt him, Buffy,” the witch said defiantly, her ‘resolve face’ firmly in place.

She blinked at her friend, surprised by the hard glint in Willow’s eyes.

“He’s been through a lot and he needs a few minutes before he can get up,” Willow continued.

“We don’t have a few minutes,” Buffy countered.

Spike reached up to grasp Willow’s wrist.

“Get the ‘Bot. We’ll need her,” he said businesslike.

“Oh! She’s in the basement. We put her down there after... after we rescued you from Glory. One of Glory’s scabby minions shorted her out.”

“Fix ‘er. She’ll come in handy as a diversion,” he told her.

“Oh, great idea!”

Xander nodded. “I’ll bring her up. We found her down there when Anya and I were ... looking for the Dagon’s Sphere.”

“Great,” Willow answered.

Spike looked at Buffy. “Do you have the Troll Hammer?”

“Uhh... yeah,” she replied, confused.

“Good.” He turned to Tara. “Glinda, go upstairs and get the Book of Darkest Majick.”

“Darkest Majick?!” the witch exclaimed. “Oh... oh no...”

“There’s barrier spells in there. Good ones that’ll work against the Hell Bitch.”

Tara shook her head. “No. I couldn’t. Those spells ...”

“I’ll do it,” Willow interrupted. “I’m more comfortable with the darker stuff anyway.”

She moved to head up the ladder to the restricted section.

“Red,” Spike called out in a warning tone and she turned back to him, kneeling in front of him and placing a gentle hand on his face.

“I’ve done it before,” she whispered. “You showed me. But you also showed me that things don’t have to go the way you think they will. You can change the future.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and Spike’s eyes grew misty, but then he finally gave her a small nod and she pulled away.

“How are you feeling?” Tara asked Spike as Willow went up the ladder.

The vampire thought for a moment. “Better.”

“I was doing some... rejuvenation spells while you were... gone. I hope they helped.”

Rising slowly to his feet, Spike gave a grateful nod. “Yeah. I don’t feel like I’ve gone twelve rounds on the business end of Angelus’ fist.”

Tara gave him a happy smile then ducked her head. “I should go help Willow.”

“Yeah. Keep ‘er from gettin’ too deep into it.”

With both the witches upstairs, Anya and Xander in the basement collecting the Buffybot and Giles still in the Training Room, Spike and Buffy were left to themselves. They stared at each other awkwardly until Buffy put her hands in her back pockets and looked away.

“Look,” Spike began softly. “I know that you’re worried and scared, but you have to trust me. There’s things you don’t know...”

“Whose fault is that?” she snapped back.

Spike closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “We really don’t have time for this. You just have to trust me. I am doing everything I can here.”

“Do you know where Dawn is?” she demanded.

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.

“Then we need to go get her.”

Spike shook his head. “Not yet. We need to go to your place and get clothes for the ‘Bot and weapons. We have enough time. Things won’t go down until just before dawn.”

Buffy looked him over, her hard face softening a little. “Are you up to fighting?”

He paused for a moment then nodded. “I’ll hold up. Whatever Glinda did fixed me up enough to do what I gotta do. I’m not good enough to go spin kicking a Gruth’lak demon, but I’ll do alright against Glory’s midgets.”

She gave him a short nod. “Let’s go then.”

********

Spike held his breath as they began the walk to Buffy’s house, following along just a step behind her as they walked the darkened, quiet streets. Fate was with him and she did not try to ask him questions as they made their way to Revello Drive.

Stepping up onto the front porch, he remembered the last time he had been here. This was the night when Buffy re-invited him into the house, where she had showed him the she was willing to see him as something other than a monster. He’d stopped at the door, hadn’t even tried to cross the threshold. He even offered that she could hand the weapons out to him instead. She’d also extracted the promise from him, the one he hadn’t been able to keep.

She opened the door and they went in. There were no barriers this time.

“Weapons are in the chest by the TV. I'll grab the stuff upstairs...” she told him.

Spike headed into the living room. “Won't bother with the small stuff. Couple of good axes’ll hold off Glory's mates while you take on the lady herself.”

Buffy stopped him.

“We’re not all gonna make it. You know that,” she said.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t know it. But yeah, it’s a possibility. Hey, I always knew I'd go down fighting.”

She swallowed and set her jaw. “I’m counting on you, Spike. To help save her.”

He looked her directly in the eye and swore on his own soul, “Til the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight.”

“When this is all over, you’re going to tell me everything,” she told him.

He smiled at her, a small, sad smile, and tears came to his eyes, then he reached for her and gently took her face in his hands. “When this is all over, I promise I will tell you *everything.*”

She nodded and took a small step back, tears in her own eyes.

“I’ll be a minute,” she managed and started up the stairs.

“I know I’ve kept things from you,” he began.

She stopped on the stairs and turned to look at him.

“I know it’s looked like I’ve been dishonest. But everything I’ve done, I’ve done because I have been trying to protect you and spare you pain. I do love you. Buffy, even if you don’t love me, even if you’ll never love me, and I will do everything in my power to make sure you and Dawn come out of this alive.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Thank you. For treating me like a man, even though I’ve been a monster. That’s...” He stopped, cutting himself off. “Go on. Get your stuff. I’ll be here.”

She gave him one more long look before going up the stairs. He went into the living room and pulled the axes out of the weapons chest. She came back down with clothes for the ‘Bot a minute or so later, and joined him in the front foyer.

“Ready?” he asked her.

She nodded.

“Let’s do this then.”

“Okay.”

He handed her one of the axes and they left the house together.

Chapter 46

Upon returning to the Magic Box, Spike found Willow finishing up the repairs on the Buffy-Bot.

“There, she’s good to go,” the young witch said, closing the back flap on the robot with a satisfied grin.

“Good work, Red. We’ve got the clothes. Buffy, you and Glinda play dress-up. I need to talk to Red here,” he replied, taking Willow’s arm.

“Oh… okay…” she agreed, allowing him to pull her aside.

“What… what is it?” she asked when they were in the training room.

“When you were in my head, did you see anything about the mojo you did on Glory?”

Willow shook her head. “No, not really.”

Spike sighed. “Okay. There was this thing you did with Glory. It weakened her for a bit.”

“Oh? What did I do?”

He tried to remember. “Well… you. You were tryin’ ta help Glinda, ya see. You’d been chartin’ the essences of the blokes she’d turned crazy, and you’d figured out a way ta reverse what’d been done to ‘em.”

Willow looked worriedly at the closed training room door. “I… I was. I mean, I did? Um… wow. But… Spike, whatever I did, I must have spent days researching how to do it. But this time, you *saved* Tara and she didn’t get brain-sucked, so I have no reason to try to reverse what Glory did to her.”

Spike nodded. “Yeah, and you also wouldn’t have used mojo on ‘er before so she won’t be ready for some of the things you throw at ‘er tonight. Might have the same effect.”

Willow nodded nervously and swallowed. “Okay.”

“Use the dark magick book. Those spells’ll work. I heard Buffy talkin’ about how you were the only one who ever slowed the Hell Bitch down.”

“I was?”

“Yeah, she called you her big gun,” he said with a wry smile.

“Gun? Oh Spike, I’m not anyone’s gun.”

He put both hands on her shoulders in an attempt to calm her. “Don’t go willie on us now, Red. We need you.”

She put her resolve face on. “I won’t.”

“That’s more like it.”

He gave her shoulders a squeeze before releasing them and moved to open the door. Willow’s small voice stopped him.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, Red?”

“Did I… Did I really turn evil and hurt people?”

He hung his head and sighed. “I didn’t see it. Only heard about it from Lurky while I was ‘recuperating’ from what he did ta me. Never saw you kill that Warren bloke, but he was a right wanker when I met with him the first time, and he was a real bastard to you lot later. I know ‘e hurt Buffy and Tara, so I wasn’t sad ta see him go. Still… you been steadily growin’ in your powers in the years I’ve known you. You’re no scared, limp wristed Sabrina-wanna-be. You’re a powerful witch. But power can corrupt. It seduces ya if yer not careful.”

He looked back at her.

“It’s what happened ta you, Red. You let it seduce ya. Ya started dabblin’ in things ya weren’t ready for. That’s why ya went to the dark side. Now ya know what can happen, and ya can avoid it. You just have ta remember that with magic, there’s always consequences. Always. Now we gotta go. Dawn needs savin’ an’ we got a Hell Bitch to kill.”

Willow nodded, taking in his words, then gave him a brave smile. “Right behind you.”

He gave her a nod and a smile, then opened the training room door and walked out into the main store. The others were expectantly waiting for them.

“Bot’s ready,” Buffy said.

He nodded and moved to pick up the Gruth’lak battle axe from the pile of weapons.

“Mind if I use this?” he asked.

Buffy shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “Go right ahead.”

He hefted the axe and spun in it in his hand as Buffy turned to Giles.

“We on schedule?” she asked.

“Yes. It's time,” the Watcher confirmed.

“Okay, this is it. Spike, you lead the way. We'll follow. Everyone knows their jobs. Remember, the ritual starts, we all die. And I'll kill anyone who comes near Dawn.”

Spike swallowed and handed weapons to Giles, who placed them in a bag.

“Not exactly the St. Crispin's Day speech, was it?” he commented.

“We few,” Giles said in sardonic agreement.

“We happy few,” they said together.

“We band of buggered,” Spike finished, setting his jaw and leading the way out.

********

They were silent as they wound their way through the quiet pre-dawn streets. For Spike every step he took brought him closer to his doom. Despite Willow’s steadfast belief in him, he still held an unspoken terror that this attempt to change the future would fare no better than his others. He tried not to show it, however. He needed to be strong and confident. If he wasn’t, he knew there was no hope for Dawn or Buffy or any of them.

“How you doing on those spells, Red?” he asked as they neared the construction site.

He had heard Willow going over the spells she took from the book of dark magic, memorizing the words as Tara guided her.

“I... I’ve got a couple ready.”

“All we need to do is slow her down long enough for the critical time to pass,” Giles reminded.

“Remember, Willow first, then the ‘Bot with the Dagon Sphere. Then I get her with the troll hammer,” Buffy added.

“And we’re to take care of any minions,” Anya piped up, gripping her baseball bat tightly in her hand.

It was enough, wasn’t it? Spike was thinking frantically. It had to be enough. Doc was dead, so there would be no one to cut Dawn if Buffy succeeded in keeping Glory occupied until after time was up.

‘She did it before. Glory never got to Dawn. It was Doc who cut Nibblet.’

They cleared the buildings and arrived at the site, the rickety tower looming above them like a grotesque, poorly formed insect. At the base of the tower, a good number of Glory’s brain-sucked victims and her robed minions guarded the staircase. Spike remembered from before that hitting the loonies would cause his Chip to fire. He could hit the minions though, and his hand gripped the smooth handle of the battle axe in anticipation.

“We’re here,” he said, clenching his fists tightly as he spied the small figure of Dawn at the top of the structure.

Buffy looked to where Spike was staring and saw her sister. “Dawn...”

“Shpadoinkle ...” Xander breathed.

“What is that... ?” Anya asked.

“The portal must open up there,” Giles observed, looking askance to Spike who nodded once, his eyes riveted on the empty spot.

Xander cast about and spied the large wrecking crane. “Hey, check that out. I think I can work with that,” he said.

Buffy saw what he was referring to and nodded. “Give it a shot.”

“See you guys in there,” the young man told them and headed for the crane.

“Where’s Glory?” Buffy asked, looking around.

Spike pointed out the auburn-haired woman surveying the crew’s handiwork. “Over there.”

Buffy looked to where Spike was pointing and nodded.

“Okay, Willow, you’re up,” Buffy announced.

Willow swallowed and nodded. Buffy left her with Tara and took the Buffy-bot to the other side of the site where she could approach from the rear. The witch looked to Spike and Giles.

“Use the binding spell first, then back it up with a heavy hitting blast. We need to weaken her if we can,” Giles instructed.

“Okay. I’ll try,” she promised, looking at Tara for reassurance.

“You can do this, Red,” Spike encouraged.

She looked at him and drew herself up, the timid bookworm being replaced by the confident spell caster that she was.

“So can you, Spike. Remember, nothing is written in stone.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Red.”

She gave him one more look, then turned and walked away from them. She stopped a few paces away from where Glory was standing, took a deep breath, and cast the binding spell.

“Kali, Hera, Kronos, Tonic…” she incanted, her hands held out.

The surge of power was noticed by the minions and a number of them ran for cover.

“Air like nectar thick as Onyx… Cassiel by your second star…”

“What the hell is going on here?” Glory demanded, coming over to see what was happening. “Oh, it’s one of the Slayer’s little girlfriends. That’s so cute.”

“Hold mine victim, as in tar,” Willow finished.

Glory tried to step forward, but found herself caught in the spell. She pushed forward, but wasn’t able to make any progress. Enraged, she snarled like a trapped animal.

“Ummm, Willow. I think now would be a good time for that blast,” Tara said nervously.

“Yeah,” Willow agreed, aiming her ten fingers straight at Glory. “I. Give. You. Pain.”

On the word ‘pain,’ Willow’s eyes turned black and empty, and a wave of dark power engulfed Glory. The Hell God did something none of them had ever seen her do before: she screamed.

The scream only lasted a few moments, however, before Glory gathered her strength and broke the binding.

“Is that it? Is that the best you can do, witchbitch?” Glory mocked.

A leather bag at Willow’s feet unraveled and a host of knives came floating up, all aimed at the Hell God.

“Bag of Knives,” Willow intoned, and the knives went flying straight towards Glory.

Glory stood her ground and batted the knives away faster than the human eye could follow.

“Well, that was fun, but really not worth my time,” Glory taunted, then her eyes strayed to Tara who was behind Willow and a sadistic smile came to her lips. “Sucking on your girlfriend’s mind though, now that might be worthwhile…”

“Tara!” Willow cried, panic seizing her. “NO!”

Glory moved forward, intent on attacking Tara, and Willow reacted without thinking. When Glory moved to bat her aside, she tapped into the well of dark magick she had delved into for the spells, and rounded on the Hell God, shoving her own fingers into Glory’s head.

Both Willow and Glory screamed as a burst of white energy came pouring out of the god’s head and up Willow’s arms. The blast backlashed and all three women were sent flying. Willow and Tara smashed into a wall and landed unconscious. Glory, however, was back on her feet in a few seconds, albeit quite shaken and disturbed. Her minions gathered around her worriedly.

“What the frikkin' hell did that bitch do to me!?!” Glory yelled.

“You look fine! Truly!” a minion assured.

“Stylish and affordable! Or ...” another added.

Glory staggered. “She made… she made a hole… God I need a meal. I need a brain to eat…”

“Take mine, oh groove-tastic one –“ the first minion offered.

“I said a BRAIN, you worthless dirt! I got places to be! Big day... Need a brain ...” Glory growled, turning slowly and spying what she thought was the Slayer. “Suppose I could always use yours.”

The Buffy-bot dressed as Buffy responded coolly. “Come and get it.”

The two eyed each other. The Buffy-bot took a circling step, Glory watching her with disdain. Glory took a step as well, but it was a tad unsteady.

“You don't seem very well. Do you need to lie down and have a tonic?” the bot asked reasonably.

“Your little witchbitch gave me kind of a headache there. And all it did to her was kill her and her girlfriend, so kudos to her! But if you think this is gonna last more than eight seconds...”

“I notice that you're talking, whereas in your position I would attack me.”

“Oh most sweaty-naughty-feelings- causing one, should we --,” a minion began but Glory cut him off.

“Guard the girl! I can take care of hairdo here. This is a... a...”

“Diversionary tactic?” the minion offered.

“Go! Guard!” Glory commanded.

Obeying, the minions spread out around the stairway area.

“You keep saying I'm nothing, I'm still not feeling attacked by you. It's strange ...” the Buffy-bot went on.

Glory moved towards her, then hesitated. Confusion crossed her face as she tried to walk ahead but could do so only with effort.

“You're not as blurry with speed as usual, either,” the bot noted.

“The witch ...”

The bot shook her head. “It's not her.” She produced the Dagon's Sphere from behind her back. “It might be this though...”

Glory snarled at the sight of it.

“I heard it was supposed to repel you. So my guess is that you probably shouldn't touch it.”

She tossed it to Glory, who instinctively caught it -- energy rippled from it, causing her to convulse with agony. A scream welling up inside her, Glory crushed the sphere in her hand. Looking down, breathing hard, she looks up with murderous hate...

“You're gonna wish –“ Glory began, murderous hate in her eyes.

Buffy's fist flew right across her jaw, sending her crashing to the ground. She rebounded up, only to be knocked back by a flurry of blows and kicks. At first, she barely fended them off at first, then she started to get her own back, landing a couple of good blows.

As the women fought, the minions gathered the crazies to guard the stairway.

“Stand fast! Kill anyone who dares approach! This is our day of Glory!” one said proudly.

“Well punned!” another complimented.

“Well, it just called out to me –“ the first answered, then toppled over when an arrow struck him in the chest.

Suddenly Giles, Spike and Anya all charged the group. Anya, wielding her baseball bat, waded through the crazies with a warrior yell with Giles by her side. The Watcher had a sword, but he used it defensively against the crazies, saving his killing thrusts for the minions.

Spike, swinging the battle axe high over his head, did as he had done before and jumped clear over the line of humans to land among the minions. He attacked with ferociousness, all snarls and fury, determined not to fail this time around. But, just as had happened before, he accidentally decked a human in his fighting fervor. His chip activated and he clutched his head in pain, allowing a minion to knock him to the ground.

From their sprawled positions on the ground, Willow woke and put a hand to her throbbing head. She looked around nervously, finally seeing Tara lying not far from her. Ignoring her pain, she crawled over to her lover and shook her urgently.

“Tara? Tara!”

Tara blinked awake and looked around her in dazed confusion.

“Willow?” she asked weakly.

“Tara… you’re all right.”

Tara nodded. “What happened?”

“Glory was gonna suck your brain. I stopped her. I think I kinda overreacted a bit,” Willow explained.

“Better too much than too little,” Tara said.

“Go overkill. Yay. Think it was enough?”

The two looked to see Glory fighting with the Buffy-bot.

“I don’t know,” Tara answered.

Willow looked at the scene before her: Glory battling the robot, the real Buffy waiting in the wings with the troll hammer. Dawn held captive at the top of the scaffold. Spike, Anya and Giles beaten back behind a pile of rubble and kept there by minions and brain-suck crazies.

“History’s repeating itself,” she whispered.

Then she saw Glory knock the head off the robot, and the real Buffy step up to nail her with the hammer.

‘I can only hope Spike has the courage to do what he has to do.’

Chapter 47

For Spike the entire tableau was an exercise in agony; a twisted, nightmarish deja-vue from which he could not escape. All around him were familiar horrors, and he felt the same desperate helplessness, the same impotent fury that he had before. It was all he could do just to hold it together and not go insane. He watched as Glory destroyed the Buffy-bot, only to be attacked by the real Buffy with the troll hammer. The two then began a desperate race to be the first up the scaffolding, each trying to prevent the other from going any further.

He saw Buffy take quite a few hard hits and close calls, but none kept her down for long until Glory knocked the troll hammer out of her hand. She started to fall, and Spike nearly panicked, wondering of this was something new or something he had just missed the first time around, then he watched her grab Glory and send them both crashing to the ground. They both got up, but Buffy didn’t have the hammer. Then the crane Xander had been operating swung its wrecking ball and sent Glory flying backwards through a brick wall into an office. Buffy took the opportunity to grab the hammer and bounded after her. Spike sent a silent prayer after her fleeing form.

“And the glorified brick-layer picks up a spare,” Xander announced proudly as he joined them.

“Good work,” Giles praised.

“How are we doing?” Xander asked, crouching down beside them.

“So far it’s a tie,” Anya replied.

“We haven’t gotten up to Dawn, but neither has anyone else,” Giles added. “If Buffy can keep Glory down long enough, though, it won't matter. There's only a few minutes left to start the ritual.”

‘At least I killed Doc. Nibblet’s safe from him. One of the damn few things I did right this time around,’ Spike thought to himself, looking up to the tower to check anyway.

He was shocked when he saw the tell-tale shadow of another figure on the scaffolding with Dawn.

‘NO! Oh, God, no! I killed him! I tore off his head and threw it in the fireplace!’

“Someone’s up there! Giles! Doc is up there!” he cried.

The others looked up, Giles shaking his head. “Spike, that’s impossible. You told me you killed him.”

“I *did* kill him, you git! But I’m tellin’ you I can *see* him. He’s up there and he’s gonna cut Dawn!”

“Okay, we gotta charge or something ...” Xander said.

“We tried that,” Anya reminded.

Spike tried to figure out what to do. Last time, Willow had popped into his head and…

::Spike…::

‘Right on cue. Red’s gettin’ this magick thing down pretty quick. I wonder how much ‘o her future can be changed,’ he wondered to himself, then shoved the thought out of his mind. ‘One thing at a time. Deal with power-trip witch later.’

::Can you hear me?::

“Loud and clear ...” he replied.

“Who? What?” Giles asked but Spike waved a hand.

::Is someone up there with Dawn? Do you see the demon who cut Dawn before?::

Swallowing, he nodded. “Yeah. Bloke I thought I killed. Wills, I gotta get up there.”

::Thought so. When Buffy said there wasn’t any body, I wondered about that.::

“Dunno how he survived what I did ta him...”

“Are you talking to us?” Xander questioned.

::Then get up there. Go now.::

“Just as soon as you part the seas, Red.”

::GO!::

He rose to his feet and charged for the tower, confident in the knowledge that his path would be cleared for him by the time he got there. The crowd was thrown back, split down the middle, and he raced through, his feet clearing the bottom stair as he leapt up.

As he ran, his vision narrowed and his senses condensed as he focused on one goal. His footsteps drummed out a heartbeat as he took the stairs three at a time, four at a time, each landing he turned bringing him closer to Dawn. The sound resounded in his ears until he realized that it was a heartbeat he was hearing: Dawn’s heartbeat- fast and pounding in her fear, in his fear.

Thrum, thrum, thrum.

Closing the distance between himself and his greatest failure, he was struck by a sudden moment of clarity. Everything he had done, everything he had tried to do, was all to bring him back to this one moment, this one regret that had eclipsed all regrets. He was about to face Doc again, weak and desperate with fear. But this time he knew that he could not best the demon in his current state, nor did he have to. He did not need to fight Doc and win. All he had to do was keep him from cutting Dawn by whatever means necessary.

::Even if that means we don’t survive,:: William’s voice popped into his head.

::Yeah,:: he replied in complete agreement.

::’Tis a far far better thing we do now, than we have ever done...::

::Shut up, you poof.::

But deep inside, he knew that his soul was right, and the knowledge defined his intent and set his goal, and he moved forward with the faith of someone who knows his purpose and is not afraid.

Thrum, thrum, thrum.

His feet, her heart, pounding out the rhythm as he climbed.

Thrum, thrum, thrum.

The only sound he could hear, resounding in his ears, a pounding reverie.

Thrum, thrum, thrum.

Only one flight left to go. He could see her now: bound, terrified, weeping, and her assailant- the deceiving old man.

Thrum, thrum, thrum.

His feet took the last few stairs in one leap and he was up, his goal within reach.

“SPIKE!” Dawn screamed.

He didn’t answer; he had no conscious thought outside of his objective. His game face came forth as he barreled down the gangway with only one goal in mind: Get. Him. Away. From. Dawn.

The demon turned to face him, not surprised to see him.

“Oh look. A hero…”

Thrum, thrum, thrum.

He closed the distance. He wasn’t even slowing down. Doc turned the knife towards him, and the blade pierced his flesh as he slammed into the demon with the full force of his body. He didn’t scream, didn’t even flinch, at the pain. He just grabbed hold of Doc with both hands, fingers ripping through cloth and flesh like claws, and threw them both off the tower.

They fell and Spike felt a moment of triumph. The knife in his gut was eviscerating him, and Doc was struggling, but he had no intentions of letting go. The lizard tongue came out and struck at his face, but instead of letting go as Doc hoped he would, he clutched Doc tighter, brought his fangs to the demon’s neck and bit down. Hard. Doc screamed.

The blood was acid that burned his face, but he did not let go. It seared his lips, chin and neck in fiery rivulets, scorching him. He ignored it, ignored the knife in his abdomen, ignored the sound and feel of his bones breaking, of a rebar puncturing his leg as they hit the hard ground. Nothing mattered except to make sure Doc couldn’t cut Dawn. Slamming into the concrete, he blacked out.

Coming to, he knew several moments had passed. He was on his back, looking up at the pre-dawn sky. He turned his head to his left to look for Doc, but the demon was gone. His instant panic was quelled by Willow’s telepathic voice.

::He’s gone. Dismembered and torched to dust.::

He gave a weak nod, then turned his head to the right in time to witness Giles smothering a badly beaten Ben. He felt dimly sorry for the Watcher, who had tried so hard to avoid murdering Glory’s human host. Looking back to the left and slightly up, he saw Xander and Anya staring down at him. Anya’s mouth moved but he couldn’t hear her over the thrumming in his ears. The thrumming of Dawn’s heartbeat.

‘Dawn…’

Straining to see the tower stairs, unable to lift or feel his legs, he struggled to find Dawn. He located her coming down as she turned on the last landing and stepped on the final flight. Buffy was directly behind her, and his vision condensed to focus solely on the two young women, blocking out everything else. Both of them were whole, and Dawn, while traumatized and shaking, was unharmed.

As they came down, both pairs of eyes raised to meet his. Dawn’s eyes went wide and she stared, but he could only grin at her with his burned lips. She spoke, but all he heard was her heart, soon joined by another, and he was confused until he realized he was hearing Buffy’s heart too. Buffy’s heart: strong, and steady and alive.

The true weight of his accomplishments struck him, and he realized that he had changed history. Despite all of his fear and doubts, despite his colossal mistakes, he had still managed to save Buffy. His face cracked, his eyes streaming tears as he watched them come to him. Then a world of pain flooded through his body. He gave an inhuman croak from his bloodied lips and passed out.

Chapter 48 - Epilogue (Part 1)

“So, little vampire,” Lurky’s gravelly voice said in his blackened dreams. “You did it.”

He opened his eyes and found himself standing back in the African cave. He was whole and unharmed, so he knew that it was either a dream or the entire ‘second chance’ thing had been an elaborate hallucination.

“Suppose so,” he replied noncommittally.

“You surprised me, really. In spite of everything that was thrown at you, you still managed to change the course of history.”

He looked at his fingernails, feigning disinterest. “Just call me Spike: Champion of Impossible Odds.” He waited a beat. “So, was this all just another one of your little tests or did it actually happen?”

Dark laughter echoed off the cavern walls. “A good question.”

There was a long silence that he finally broke. “Well?”

More laughter answered him and he began to get irritated. Never a good thing.

“No,” a new voice replied, and he turned to see William standing behind him.

He blinked at his soul. “No what?”

“No, it wasn’t a test. It really happened.”

He was surprised by William’s force of conviction. In his memory, he could not recall a time when William had been convicted about anything.

“Well, that’s good to know,” he answered warily, wondering if the soul was real. “Wish I could’ve saved Joyce, though.”

William shook his head sadly. “It was her time. She knew though, and loved you for it.”

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and looked away.

“You were given the challenge of changing the course of history, vampire,” Lurky’s voice said. “Your reward is knowing that you succeeded. The rift and imbalance that occurred when the Slayer died and was brought back to life has been corrected. The Wheel of Destiny has been returned to its proper course.”

“Don’t take much stock in destiny,” he admitted.

“The Powers That Be are very pleased with you,” William told him.

“Don’t take much stock in them either, bunch of meddling wankers, all caught up in their damn Fate and Prophecy.”

“They are allowing you to keep me, even though technically since Buffy never died, the course of events that led you to seek me never happened. It’s one of those Paradoxes so frequently associated with time travel and the changing of history,” his soul went on.

He looked at the younger, weaker version of himself and lifted one disdainful lip. “Nice to know we’re stuck with each other.”

“I did not want to be called back. I did not want to join with you,” William said honestly. “I found you repulsive and vile.”

“Come on now, tell us how you really feel,” he sneered back.

“But I found that you have a good heart, even though you are a demon. You are courageous and willing to sacrifice anything for love. I am honored to be part of you.”

“Yeah, well a lot of that had to ta do with the part of you that never left.”

William put out his hand. “I have no desire to be at odds with you. We are one and I have found that we have a common goal.”

He eyed the offered hand for several moments, then reluctantly took it. William’s long fingers closed around his tightly and the man smiled.

“Let us return. The world of our making awaits us and there is much left for us to do before all is set to rights.”

He nodded in agreement, but snarked anyway. “Isn’t that just ducky. I’m so looking forward to it.”

William smiled and chuckled, then turned to lead the way out of the cave. He moved to follow.

“You will not see me again, vampire,” Lurky said. “In reality, you never saw me.”

He turned his head to look at the demon. “Well that’s good. Could live without ever seein’ your ugly face.”

“Be careful what you wish for from now on, vampire.”

“Yeah, yeah yeah, and all that rot,” he sneered, then motioned to William who was waiting for him. “C’mon now, lead the way. Gotta see about a girl.”

William sniffed in distain and continued down the passageway. “Gotta see about a girl? Is that the best you can do? No wonder she never noticed your affections.”

He shook a warning finger at his soul as they walked side by side. “Now don’t you go gettin’ any ideas, ya ponce!”

“I’m quite certain I can come up with a more suitable expression of our love.”

“Like Hell you will! I won’t have you handin’ her some of your pathetic drivel,” he warned.

“Women love an honest expression of a man’s feelings,” William argued back, stopping and turning to face him. The tunnel was coming to an end about twenty yards ahead of them.

“Not this woman. Take it from someone who knows, Slayers don’t go in for that flower and frills rot. Give ‘em somethin’ to hack and slash. I know from experience that the fastest way to a Slayer’s heart is with something sharp, pointy and lethal. Besides, nothing rhymes with entrails.”

William stood up straight, his nose held up in offense. “You truly are a vulgarian of the worst sort.”

“And you’re a spineless git. So what else is new?”

William gave him an exasperated glare. “I doubt we will ever get along amicably.”

“Well. Me demon, you soul. Doesn’t make for the closest of friendships. Besides, I’m bad and you’re not.”

“Bad,” William scoffed. “As if that was a high aspiration.”

“Oi! Do not underestimate the power of badness. It’s served me quite well over the past century… oh bloody Hell, now you’ve got me talkin’ like a nancy boy, you ponce!” he cried, horrified.

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with speaking the Queen’s English properly.”

“If you want everyone to think you’re a wanker.”

William sighed and closed his eyes with a subtle shake of his head. “We could spend an eternity arguing here.”

“I was bored stiff ten minutes ago.”

“And our lady is waiting,” William reminded.

“It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.”

“It certainly isn’t. Shall we do this then?”

He nodded. “Yeah, let’s get on with it.”

William gave him a soft smile and stepped towards him. Then his form went translucent and he stepped into Spike’s body, merging with him. The vampire shuddered as his soul joined with him, feeling William enter and take his place inside him.

Shortly after their merging, the end of the tunnel began to glow, and he knew that the way back to the waking world had opened. Smiling, tears moistening his eyes, he placed one hand on his chest and walked through.

*********

“Spike. William, wake up,” a voice called to him from the darkness.

He opened his eyes to see Joyce looking down at him.

“Joyce?” he whispered in surprise.

“Hello William,” Buffy’s mother greeted.

“But I thought…”

“Oh, I’m still dead, Spike. But I’ve been allowed to see you.”

“Where am I?”

“Physically, you’re on the sofa of our living room. You were severely injured and burned when you fell from the tower. Mentally you’re here with me. At least for the next few moments.”

He could feel the sting of tears on his eyes. “Joyce, I’m so sorry. I tried so hard…”

“Hush. There was nothing you could have done. The fact that you tried so hard did not go unnoticed.”

“You said I was on the couch in your living room. That I was badly injured and burned. How bad off am I?”

“Well, broken bones and bruises aside, the worst of it are the burns on your face and neck. The demon you bit had acid for blood. The skin of your right check and jaw has been eaten away, as well as a good bit of your lips and part of your throat,” the spirit replied.

“Won’t be winnin’ any beauty contests anytime soon then.”

Joyce chuckled softly. “You always did have such an indefatigable wit.”

He smiled back. “’S all part of my irresistible charm.”

“Don’t I know it.”

A frown crossed his face. “I will heal up alright, won’t I?”

She patted his hand reassuringly and he wondered how a ghost could feel so real.

“Yes. Willow and Tara are both working very hard to speed up your healing. You should be fine in a couple of weeks, barring any unforeseen apocalypses.”

“Don’t even joke about that, Mum. Nasty doomsdays have a habit of findin’ the Hellmouth on a regular basis.”

Now it was Joyce’s turn to frown. “I know.”

He took her hand in his own gently. “We miss you, Joyce, but we’re tryin’ ta go on without you. Your girls are doin’ great, and I’m doin’ my best ta look after ‘em.”

“I know. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“You’re welcome, Joyce.”

Joyce looked behind her, her face pensive. “I don’t have much time left. I just wanted to tell you that I’m grateful for everything you have done, and how proud I am that you tried so hard to change the future, even at great pain and risk to yourself. The Powers That Be are very happy with you, and so am I. Thank you for saving my daughter.”

“You’re welcome, Joyce.”

She looked behind her again. “I have to go now. Give Buffy and Dawn my love.”

“I will.”

The image of Joyce began to fade.

“Take care of them,” she charged.

“Until the end of the world,” he vowed back.

Joyce smiled and disappeared from sight. “Good bye, William.”

“Bye Joyce,” he replied, but she was already gone.


Chapter 49 - Epilogue (Part 2)

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, his vision was blurry, but he could make out the distinct image of Dawn looking down at him. The teen’s face came into better focus a few moments later, and Dawn gasped when she saw his eyes were open.

“Buffy! Buffy, Spike’s awake!” Dawn called, practically leaping up from her seat on the edge of the couch and running for her sister.

While he waited for Buffy to arrive on the scene, he took the opportunity to take stock of his surroundings. He was indeed on the Summers’ couch, and he did appear to be badly wounded. However, he wasn’t in any serious pain. In fact, he was quite numb.

‘Wiccas worked some powerful mojo on me if they’re blockin’ the kind of injuries Joyce said I had.’

Buffy came into view, hands damp from the kitchen, and William stirred inside him at the sight of her.

:: How shall I compare thee to a Summer’s Day?

Thou are more lovely and more temperate.:: his soul mentally whispered.

::No! No sonnets! No bloody Shakespeare!::

“Well, Sleeping-Not-So-Beauty finally awakens. Took you long enough. It’s only been five days,” the Slayer told him, coming to sit beside him on the edge of the couch.

‘Five days?’ he thought, and his face must have given him away.

“You heard me. Five days. Willow was planning to go in and drag you out if you didn’t wake up soon.”

She shrugged and went on, “I suppose a good part of that was the knockout drugs we’ve been giving you, but still, you’ve been dead weight on the couch. We were considering just tossing some cushions over you and substituting you as furniture so we could watch Heraldo.”

He heard himself laugh and felt his lips move; Buffy’s nose crinkled up and she shied a little bit.

“Okay, your burns are even grosser when you try to smile,” she said.

He creased his brow, wondering how bad it really was if the sight of him disturbed even the Slayer.

“I’d bring you a mirror, but well, there’s the no reflection thing, and I am so not wasting any film on you just so you can see how gross and oozing you are. Acid burns and you, not a good combination.”

He managed a tiny shrug and the movement dislodged something near his face. Buffy immediately moved to pick it up, and he saw that it was a plastic tube that he hadn’t noticed was resting against his mouth.

“We’ve been tube feeding you,” she explained, holding up the reddened plastic.

He nodded that he understood.

“It was easier. We didn’t have to wake you, and I doubt that you could have sat up to feed yourself anyway. Just think, though, you look 200% better today than you did five days ago.”

He moved his limbs experimentally and found that he could move, albeit he felt as if he was swimming through tar to do so. He tried to sit up, but Buffy put a firm hand on his chest and pushed him back down.

“Oh no. You’re not getting up until you get the go ahead from Dr. Willow,” she told him.

He settled back against the couch cushions and looked up her. She looked tired and worn, but she was *alive*; she was alive. She smelled of sunlight and vanilla and all the scents he associated with her, and he was just so *happy.*

::Surprised by joy- impatient as the wind,:: William supplied.

::Wordsworth now? What happened to Shakespeare?::

::O, never say that I was false of heart,

Though absence seem’d my flame to qualify.::

::Hrumph. Pansy. Bloody Sonnet 108::

::But you knew it, didn’t you?::

He growled mentally and sought to shove the soul back into his box so he could look at Buffy undisturbed. It didn’t work.

::She walks in Beauty like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies

And all that’s best of dark and bright,

Meet in her aspect and her eyes.::

::ARGH! SHUT UP!::

::But we always loved Byron.::

::Bollocks! If the wanker hadn’t already been dead by the time Dru Sired me, I would have made it an immoral imperative to eat him.::

“Are you in pain?” Buffy asked suddenly, probably misreading the looks on his face as he argued with his soul.

He shook his head, and a moment later he was surprised when Buffy took his hand. He gave her a confused look, but she lowered her eyes.

“Willow and Giles, they told me everything,” she admitted softly. “I admit, it was a little hard to swallow at first. Y’know the whole coming back in time to save me from dying thing seemed a bit far fetched.”

She gave a mirthless laugh. “Then Giles showed me a journal you’d written in and it detailed everything, even stuff I know you couldn’t know about because I never told you about it.”

He squeezed her hand comfortingly.

“They also told me you have a soul. Tara confirmed it and you wrote about it in your journal.” She paused as if gathering her thoughts and the hand that held his tightened slightly. “This is really hard,” she finally said. “I mean, Angel loved me. I know he loved me, and I loved him more than anything in the world, but I can’t imagine him doing for me what you have done.”

She swallowed hard and he saw the tell-tale glimmer of tears brimming her eyes, and he wished desperately to be able to speak.

“B… Bu-ff…” he croaked through his ruined lips.

“Don’t try to talk. You’ll only open your burns and go all gross and oozy again. God I wish I knew how Mom got all the blood out of everything all the time.”

At the memory of Joyce, she hung her head.

“Mom. You really tried to save Mom.” She looked at him, tears falling. “I’m sorry you couldn’t.”

He lifted one hand to cup her cheek, using his thumb to brush a tear away, and tried to tell her everything in his heart with his eyes alone.

“You did so much and I beat you down for it every chance I could. Even in the other timeline, it was obvious that I used and beat you just to make myself feel better. But instead of dumping me like anyone else would, you just let me. You stayed and suffered through everything I did to you.”

::Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds;

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks upon tempests and is never shaken.

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle’s compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error, and upon me prov’d,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.:: William recited.

He sent nothing in response to the Sonnet. In truth it cut far too close to the heart of things and he couldn’t face it, not with Buffy opening to him in ways he never thought he would ever see her open.

“And when we’d both been pushed way past our limits and both did horrible, unforgivable things to each other, you went to earn back your soul. You went *looking* for someone to give you a *soul,*” she emphasized.

“Do you think Angelus would have gone to get a soul for me? Angel without his soul hated me and tried to kill me and all my friends. But you…”

She trailed off, and he once again cursed his inability to speak.

“What you did for me, and for Dawn… That…” she continued then stopped again.

He squeezed her hand again.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen now, and my guess is neither do you,” she finally said. “I guess it’s up to us now to make a different future. Hopefully one that isn’t as screwed up as the one you lived through.”

He gave her a nod and what he hoped was a look of encouragement.

“I do know that I will stop using you as my convenient punching bag, and I’ll try not to automatically assume the worst of you. Anything else that happens between us will have to happen on its own. That’s all I can promise you.”

It was more than he ever hoped to hear from her lips and he almost started to cry again.

“Don’t start crying. You’ll move your jaw and crack open your burns again. And I’d kiss you on the cheek right now, but you smell *really* gross.”

He let himself laugh silently at her attempt to break the heaviness that had settled around them.

“I’m gonna go get the others. Dawn and Willow wanted to see you right away, but I made them promise to wait in the kitchen until I’d had a chance to talk to you by myself. I’d better go tell them the coast is clear before they batter down the door. You up to seeing visitors?”

He nodded, and she smiled at him.

“Okay. I’ll go let in the hoarde.”

She released his hand and stood, but their fingers lingered together, pulling apart at the last possible moment as she headed for the kitchen door.

::How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...:: William began, but he cut him off with his own verse.

::And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.::

There was stunned silence across the link between them, then William sent, ::I’m not familiar with that one.::

::Dylan Thomas. He was after your time. Blighter could write circles around your pathetic Elizabeth Barrett Browning.::

::And exactly how would you know that if you had ‘no use for that worthless drivel’ as you so eloquently put it?::

He didn’t answer. There was no sense in rising to his soul’s bait. They were stuck with each other after all, and he needed to maintain some semblance of his former ‘bad’ self.

And then Dawn was bounding in, and she was reaching out to touch a part of him that wasn’t injured, her hands gentle and tender. Willow and Tara followed, his wiccas who believed in him and had given him their faith and strength. Two more who made up his little family, the ones who chose him and in turn were chosen by him to be closer to him than any blood kin had ever been.

Buffy came again at last, standing with one shoulder against the doorframe, giving the others time to fuss and jostle over him. She was watching them scrabble and jockey for position next to him, and he saw her face crack into a wide smile as she laughed.

Her laughter was music and the sight of her a miracle he could not have hoped to witness. Their eyes met, and in spite of all his wounds and burns, he felt more whole than he had ever felt in all his long years. He had finally come home.

‘And death shall have no dominion. Bloody damn right.’

~Fin~