Title: A New Day

Author: PrettyPoppy

Summary: Sequel to "The Final Night." As the ultimate battle with The First rages, tragedy strikes, and it's up to an unlikely champion to set things right. And of course, that's just the beginning.

Rating: NC-17

Chapter One: Ashes to Ashes

The battle was raging.

The school basement was a war-zone, a wonderland of chaos, brought on by evil forces. The earth had opened up around them, devouring everything in its path. With amazing swiftness, the battle had been pushed to the farthest parameters of the underground arena, and the troops had been scattered.

Spike could hear the sounds of screaming around him, but whether they were the screams of demons or of human beings, he couldn't tell. In the heat of the moment, there was very little difference between a battle cry and a cry for help.

The Hellmouth had erupted with a veritable cornucopia of demon spawn. Buffy and the gang were trying their best to hold them back, but it was like trying to damn a raging river with mud and twigs. They were losing quickly - that much was obvious - but still, they fought the good fight.

Suddenly a scream pierced the din. A deafening scream. A familiar scream. It was Dawn.

Spike gripped the stake he was carrying more firmly in his hand and swiftly drove it through the heart of the vamp he was fighting. A second later, he turned toward the sound.

Even in all the chaos, he would recognize Dawn's scream anywhere. She was battling a huge, hulking demon whose species Spike didn’t recognize. It had somehow managed to knock Dawn to the ground and was now hovering over her, getting ready to crush her skull with its fist.

Spike let out a feral scream and made for the demon. Pouncing through the air, he landed on the monster's back and began wrestling it to the ground. They struggled for what seemed liked an eternity - but what must have only been seconds - before Spike got a firm grasp on its head and snapped its neck.

Jumping off the beast, Spike quickly got Dawn out of the way before it came crashing to the ground beside her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, yelling over the chaos.

"I'm fine," she hollered back.

But she wasn't fine. Somewhere along the way, she had been seriously injured. There was a long gash down the side of her right arm, and she was bleeding. Losing a lot of blood in fact. Spike dragged her out of the battle, and set her down in a dark corner, just barely out of harm's way.

"I have to go," she tried to get up, to rejoin the fight.

He pushed her down to sit on a pile of debris. "No." He pulled off his duster and then his T-shirt. Ignoring her protests, he wrapped the shirt tightly around her bleeding arm, then he swung his duster around her shoulders.

"I don't want it," she said, trying to shrug out of it.

"You're going to put this on," he said harshly, as he forced her arms into it. She was starting to go into shock and she didn't even know it. Her body was trembling and her skin was pale. "And then," he said, as he fastened it closed, "you're going to sit here and wait for this to end."

"No!" she yelled.

"Yes," he said, his voice hard and uncompromising. "You're going to get yourself killed if you don't stay put." He looked her directly in the eyes, examining her face for what might be the last time. Gently, he squeezed her arms. "It's all right 'lil bit. You don't have to save the world. Be safe," he said, before placing a firm kiss on her forehead and turning to go back into battle.

"Spike!" she screamed.

But he wouldn't look back. There was a battle to be lost or won before him, and he had to fight.

The horror continued on.

Spike didn't know where Buffy was, or anyone else for that matter. The atmosphere was so thick with blood and stench and demon carcasses that it was difficult to see anything. He could very well be the last warrior standing and not even know it.

He hadn't even seen The First. At least, he didn't think he had. He just assumed it was off screwing with someone else.

The night before had been the greatest night of Spike's life. Buffy had declared her undying love for him, and somehow, even in the heat of this losing battle, he felt invincible. Whatever happened - whether they won or lost, lived or died - he knew everything would be okay, because Buffy loved him. Buffy believed in him. And that was all that mattered.

Despite the overwhelming odds, determined to see this thing through, Spike continued to fight.

Before long, he found himself battling a huge, beast-like demon. Again, of an unfamiliar species. The creature was slow, but strong; built like a boulder and about as indestructible as one. After abandoning a slew of different strategies, Spike finally fell back on the old standby, beating the thing senseless. In spite of its massive density, it finally went down, crashing to the ground behind it. Spike turned and tried to push the dead carcass into the ever-widening mouth of hell, but the body was too heavy.

Shrugging absently, he turned around to face the next wave of evil that was coming his way. He picked off the two vamps easily. Then he heard a voice shouting off in the distance.

"Spike! Behind you!"

It was Buffy, screaming over the overwhelming din of the battle.

She had been fighting for what seemed like hours, her limbs tired and aching. She knew her friends had fallen, but at this point, she didn't know exactly who. She could just sense that they were losing, the battle drowning them in a sea of blood.

Spike whipped around to look at her, his crystal blue eyes locking with hers for the briefest moment.

But it was too late. In that very instant the beast-like demon rose up and swung around, stabbing a broken sliver of wood right into Spike's heart.

Buffy's eyes flashed in horror as she saw him explode in a burst of thick, gray dust.

"Spike!" The scream tore from her throat.

Suddenly she couldn't sense anything. Not the aches and pains she had sustained in fighting. Not the blood-curdling battle cries of the army of approaching demons. Not even her friends spread out around her, defending their own lives. She was numb. There was only one thing she could see. The dust. A big, sickening, stomach-turning pile of dust, lying on the floor in front of her.

Without thinking, she slowly walked to the spot and knelt down on the ground. Her eyes hazy with tears, she sifted her fingers through all that was left of the love of her life. She watched listlessly, as the little grains slid past her fingers and fell back to earth. She slowly lifted another handful and prepared to repeat the process again when a strong hand grabbed her by the arm and jerked her up so that she was standing.

"Buffy!" Angel's voice was somehow hard and gentle at the same time. "Buffy, look at me!"

He swung her around so she was standing in front of him, but she didn't look up to meet his gaze. Instead, she let her eyes drift back down to the floor, to the ever-lessening pile of dust that was slowly being swept up into the atmosphere by the whirl of the battle surrounding it. She moved to kneel back down beside it, but Angel jerked her to attention.

"Damn it, Buffy! Look at me!"

Finally, her eyes raised to his and she stared, unseeing, into his dark, brown orbs.

"This is war Buffy. There'll be time for grieving later. You have to fight." He searched her eyes frantically, looking for any sign of recognition. "Do you understand me?"

Buffy nodded her head ever so slightly, not really comprehending what was going on, but knowing somewhere inside of her that it was the right response.

"Good. Now let's go."

Angel released her and turned back toward the fighting. Just as he did, a demon came at him, and he deftly immersed himself in battle.

Without warning, another demon came at Buffy and her Slayer instincts instantly kicked in. She didn't know what she was doing. Her movements were automatic, unplanned. She was fighting on autopilot, completely disconnected from the battle surrounding her.

She punched, she kicked, she felt her arm being twisted behind her back. Somehow, she felt herself wrench free and deliver another blow. It went on for what seemed like forever. Demon after demon. Ubervamp after ubervamp. She didn't know how many she killed, or where The First was or anything, all she knew was that she had to fight

Suddenly, something exploded behind her.

A light flashed through the school basement, covering everything in a warm, red glow. The earth was shaking. The walls started to crumble. Buffy kept on fighting. Kicking and punching, and screaming, as she tore into the creatures around her.

Suddenly, she felt a pair of strong hands on her arms and she was unexpectedly thrown to the ground. Before she knew what had happened, a huge piece of the ceiling caved in, right where she had been standing, and crushed the demon she had just been trying to kill.

Relief didn't even register with Buffy. She just picked herself up and tried to step back into the fight.

"No you don't." Angel's strong voice broke through the thunder of the collapsing building, as he picked her up in his arms, and started carrying her away from the action.

Buffy squirmed a little, wanting to be free, wanting to get back to the fighting. If she stopped fighting, she'd have to think. And God help her, she couldn't think.

"Where's Dawn?" Xander's frantic voice cut through the din.

"I'm right here," she said, as she hobbled up beside Buffy and Angel, clutching Spike's duster closed at her chest.

"We've got to get out of here," Angel said. "Xander take Dawn. Get her to safety. I've got to get Buffy out of here, before she does something stupid."

"Angel!" Cordelia yelled across the chaos.

Angel turned to look at her. "Get everyone out. Everyone!" he commanded. "There's nothing more to do. It's time to retreat and hope for the best."

Cordy nodded in affirmation, and Angel turned back around to make his way toward the exit.

"Let . . . me . . . go!" Buffy demanded coldly, as she struggled in his arms.

"No," he said, as he hurried her across the floor, doing his best to dodge the falling debris. "I'm not going to let you get yourself killed. It's over Buffy. I'm not letting you go off on a suicide mission."

She pulled back her fist to punch him, but he simply shifted her weight in his arms and maneuvered her over his shoulder.

"Put me down!"

"No."

"Angel!"

"No."

"Please?" There were tears in her pleading.

"No." He tightened his grip on her protectively and made his way out of the basement.

Chapter Two: When the Dust Settles

Three days had passed. Three horrific, heartrending days. Dawn didn't know how they were going to survive it. That was the thing about Apocalypses. Even if you survived them, there was always hell to pay in the end. Always heartache, and suffering. No one ever got off Scot-free.

Faith was dead. Kennedy was dead. So were Rhona and Amanda and most of the Potential Slayers. Andrew had somehow managed to survive, but it was little consolation. And worst of all, Spike was gone.

Dawn paced back and forth across the living room, idly listening to the arguing going on around her. Once she had gotten home and gotten some rest, she had begun to heal quite nicely. Still, Giles had forced her to stay in bed for two whole days. This was her first afternoon spent with the gang.

The living room was fairly empty, compared to what it had been just days earlier. The Potentials who had survived, had all gone back to their respective homes. Even though Faith was dead, not one of them had been called, and no one was quite sure why. The LA gang had headed back home the day after the battle, leaving only Angel and Cordelia behind. Giles was still present and accounted for, as were Willow, Xander and Anya.

But Buffy was another story.

After watching Spike explode into a big cloud of dust, Buffy had just lost it. She had not spoken since Angel had dragged her, kicking and screaming, from the battle. Now she was just sitting on the couch, her eyes glazed and unfocused, completely unresponsive to the chaos around her.

Willow was kneeling on the floor in front of Buffy. Giles had left her in charge when he and Xander had gone out to do research. "I think it could be dangerous," Willow said. "I remember how difficult it was last time to get her out of this. I'm not sure I could do it again. And even if I could get in there, and get through to her? I'm not sure her mind could take it. We might lose her completely. For good."

"Well, we have to do something," Angel said angrily as he too paced across the carpet. "She has to break out of this. She can't stay like this forever."

"And I don't think she will." Willow gently stroked Buffy's hand, trying to offer her some comfort, some solace. "I think she just needs some time to get past what's happened. She's still in shock."

"It's been three days!"

"I know." She looked up at Angel, her warm eyes soft and compassionate. "But it may take more time than that. Once she's been able to accept what's happened, then maybe she'll be able to snap out of this. Right now, I think her mind really just needs to heal." Willow pushed herself up off the floor, and sat down beside Buffy.

"And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Angel asked, still obviously frustrated.

"Be here for her? Offer her support?"

"But we're not going to be here," Cordelia said, as she moved up to stand beside Angel, wrapping her arm supportively around his. "We go back to LA tomorrow."

"I know. But the rest of us will be here. Me, Xander, Giles, Dawn."

"And me. Don't forget about me," Anya interjected. "Just because I've never really been friends with Buffy, doesn't mean I won't be here for her. After all, I did help save the world too."

"And Anya," Willow added grudgingly. "The point is, she isn't alone, and we'll find someway to pull her through this."

"Willow." Angel cocked his head and motioned for her to join him for a private conversation in the back of the room.

Dawn stopped pacing and leaned up against the back wall, her arms folded across her chest. She listened as Willow and Angel had it out.

"Did you even tell her about Faith?" he asked harshly. "About the Potentials? About anything?"

"No." Willow looked downcast. "I'm not sure it would even register at this point. Faith made the ultimate sacrifice. Gave up her life to close the Hellmouth and save the world. But I don't know what that would mean to Buffy right now, even if she could understand it. Watching Spike . . . watching Spike die, was too much for her. I can't explain it, but--"

"Of course you can explain it," he interrupted her. "She thinks she's nothing without him, her life is nothing without him. She's wrong," he said, his voice hard and uncompromising.

"I know."

"Then convince her of that. You know," he began to rant to himself, "I can't even believe we're having this conversation. This is Spike we're talking about. Spike! What the hell has happened to Buffy that Spike's the one she goes catatonic over? Not Faith, not the Potentials. But Spike! The evil, bloodsucking fiend."

Angel stopped and looked around the room, finally noticing that everyone was staring at him. He pulled Willow a little closer and lowered his voice. "She has to snap out of this," he said. "She has to get over this and move on with her life. She's the Slayer. She may be the last Slayer for all we know. She needs to be aware and capable at all times."

"I'll deal with it. Just trust me, okay?"

Dawn watched as Willow drifted back to the couch to be with Buffy. Her heart was in her chest, as she looked helplessly on. There was nothing she could do to reach her sister. How desperately she had tried, but nothing worked.

Dawn felt like she was dying. Spike was gone, and somehow he had managed to take Buffy with him. For the first time in a long time, she felt terribly alone. She had only been on this earth for three years and already she had had to watch her mother die, and her sister, and now Spike. She smiled bitterly to herself. How many times could you watch your family being ripped apart before you finally lost it?

In spite of their past differences, Dawn had really loved Spike. She had thought he would always be there - he was immortal after all. She had always thought there would be time to reconcile. To heal and forgive. But there wasn't. He had died thinking she hated him. And now Buffy was slowly slipping away too. It was too much to bear.

Fighting back the tears that were threatening to overtake her, Dawn moved across the room and sat on the other side of Buffy, wrapping her arm around her sister and leaning her head down to rest on Buffy's shoulder.

"It'll be alright," she whispered. "I promise. We'll get through this Buffy. I promise."

The tears came in spite of all her efforts to the contrary.

Willow moved closer and wrapped her arms around Buffy and Dawn, trying to comfort them both, to no avail.

"This has to end," Dawn heard Angel say from somewhere across the room. "And if Willow can't fix it, I will."

Chapter Three: Angel for the Defense

"I thought the Oracles were dead," Angel said, as he ran a frustrated hand through his gel-laden hair. Suddenly the confines of his office seemed to be too much for him.

"Well, they were," Cordelia said, as she leaned back in the chair behind Angel's desk and watched him frantically pacing back and forth in front of her. "But you know, these things run in cycles. One pair of Oracles die, another is born. It's the way these things work. The Powers That Be can really do anything they want." She shrugged.

"So you think this will work?"

"I don't know." She pushed herself out of the chair and rounded the desk, standing directly in front of Angel, effectively putting a stop to his pacing. "Even if it does though, I'm not sure it's such a good idea."

"Right, well, as ideas go? It's the only one I've got."

Angel maneuvered around Cordelia and started searching through the items littered across his desk. He had to find something to give as an offering.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"No. But what choice do I have?" He put down a heavy, lead paperweight, and picked up a silver letter opener, thrusting it through the air like a sword. He shrugged and put it back down on the desk. "You were a higher being, what do higher beings like to be bribed with? Something shiny?"

"Here." She pulled a crystal orb from one of the book shelves. "It's not really shiny, but at least they can see their reflection in it. Who knows, maybe it'll be just the distraction you need to get them to grant this ridiculous request."

"It isn't ridiculous."

"Oh really? 'Cause, it's totally normal for you to want to go to The Powers and beg for the life of an evil, bloodsucking vampire, who stole your best girl?"

"She's not my best girl."

"Well, thank you for the compliment. But the point is Angel, how do you think this is going to work?"

"I don't know, exactly. I told you about the first time I went to see the Oracles, that time Buffy came and--"

"And you became mortal and time got erased, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I remember. Even if I don't remember, I remember you telling me about it."

"Well, when the Oracles discovered I was human, they questioned me. Asked if I had saved humanity or averted an Apocalypse."

"Which makes you think that The Powers might grant Spike his mortality if you go plead for his life."

"Something like that. Look, Cordy," he moved closer to her, putting his hands on her arms and leaning down to look her directly in the eyes. "I have to try this. It's been a week, and still nothing has gotten through to Buffy. I don't have much choice."

He let her go, and began absently fiddling with the mess on his desk.

"Are you sure you can deal with Spike being human?"

"I don't know if he'll be human. I don't know what kind of favor they can grant me. But I have to try. For Buffy's sake."

* * *

A few hours later, Angel felt that he was ready. Cordelia took him to the portal under the post office. The same place Doyle had brought him all those years ago.

"Just be careful, okay? Don't make any deals that sacrifice your life for Spike's. You got that?"

"Yeah, I got that."

"Good luck Angel," she said softly, before rising up on her toes to kiss him.

A small smile tugged at his lips. "See you in less than a second."

Cordelia tuned to the basin in front of her and sprinkled some magic herbs inside. Setting the scatterings aflame, she beseeched The Powers for entrance.

An instant later, the portal opened up, and Angel was able to step inside.

He found himself standing before the Oracles - a man and a woman, apparently twins, with gold and blue flesh and an otherworldly quality about them. They were dressed in ancient Roman garb, and their surroundings were austere to say the least.

"So, we meet again," the man said.

"Well . . . not really," Angel stammered. "I think I met your older siblings?"

"We are all the same. Time and space do not follow the same rules for us, as they do for lower beings. We have met before."

"All right. If you say so."

"What have you brought us, vampire?" the woman asked as she stepped down off the platform she was standing on and moved closer to him.

"Uh, this," he said, pulling the orb from behind his back and presenting it before her.

She levitated the orb off his palm and floated it through the air, into her own. She raised it to eye level, and examined it curiously. "Pretty," she said, "if a bit useless." She shrugged and turned her attention back to Angel. "For what purpose do you seek us out?"

Angle pushed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and took a step forward. "There is a vampire, Spike. He died in battle, defending the earth against The First. I've come to ask for his life back."

"And I thought only mortals were that foolish," the man said as he turned to his sister and laughed. "Do you really think we can be bothered with such things?" he asked Angel.

"I don't see why not. When I came to you years ago, you gave me the impression that a vampire could be turned mortal if he had proven himself, averted an Apocalypse, fought for a noble cause."

"But your friend died during the battle," the woman interjected. "He did not avert the Apocalypse at all. Others did that."

"Okay, first," Angel said, "he's not my friend. And second, everyone who fought in that battle helped avert the Apocalypse. He died for the cause."

"Interesting." The female Oracle stepped closer and began circling around Angel, eyeing him curiously. Finally she stopped in front of him. "You say this vampire was not your friend, but you come to plead for his life. Why?"

"Because, he died for a noble cause."

"Wrong," the male twin said as he joined them on the floor. "You do it for her. You do everything for her."

"All right, so, yeah." He shrugged. "Look, we need her, and apparently she needs him. It's all I can do."

"But you love her," the woman said as she raised her hand and lovingly caressed the air around Angel, as if trying to caress his cheek. "Why would you willingly give her to another man?"

"Because she loves him, and I don't have much choice."

"You always have a choice," her brother said.

"Not in this case."

"Very well then." The woman turned and ascended the two steps to the platform where she had started.

Her brother followed.

"Convince us."

"Beg your pardon?" Angel asked.

"Convince us to resurrect this lowly vampire, to petition The Powers That Be for his life."

"Okay." Angel racked his brain, searching for anything to say in Spike's defense. It wasn't that Spike hadn't done some good during his time on earth, but Angel had always willingly ignored those rare anomalies. "Well, he . . ." Angel took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself. He didn't like talking about the whole soul business, but it was all he could come up with. "He got his soul back, for Buffy. He sought it out on his own. So she could love him."

"And you think this is noble?" the woman asked.

"Isn't it? A vampire with a soul? Even the Gypsies knew that was a curse. Spike went ahead and sought it out anyway."

"And do you know why?" the man asked.

"Because he wanted Buffy to be able to love him."

"No. Because he wanted Buffy to be able to forgive him."

"Forgive him for what?"

"You don't know?" The girl looked surprised, her face contorting with dread and concern.

"Know what?" Angel laughed.

"What he did, that she had to forgive him for?"

Angel shook his head absently. "Killing hundreds and hundreds of people? Being an unbelievable pain in the ass?"

The twins turned their heads in unison and looked at each other. They seemed to be communicating silently. Finally the man turned to Angel and asked, "Would you like to see what your noble vampire has done?"

Angel felt his chest tighten. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he couldn't refuse them their offer. "All right. But if it is just a century of bloodshed, remember, I was there for most of it. You can just stick with the highlights."

"Look, and see," the woman said, as she raised her hand and a shimmery image appeared before them.

Angel turned to where she had directed. Slowly, the wavy image came into focus.

Angel's chest tightened. Why the hell were they showing him this? What did it have to do with Spike?

Angel clenched his fists. He didn't like where this was going. Buffy was injured. And what the hell was Spike doing in her bathroom?!

Angel watched their exchange with palpable anxiety.

They argued, back and forth. Buffy made some reference to Spike sleeping with Anya.

That was news, but was it really unforgivable?

Angel could feel every muscle in his body tighten. The borrowed blood felt like it was pounding through his veins. He took a step forward, toward the floating image, intent on rescuing her, when a knowing voice stopped him.

"There's nothing you can do for her," the female Oracle said. "This is in the past. Just watch."

Angel steeled his nerves, trying desperately not to let his anger show, not to scream at the mirage hovering before him.

Spike pushed Buffy to the floor, her back hitting the side of the tub with a sickening "thud."

It turned Angel's stomach.

This . . . this was the man - the thing? - that Buffy had chosen to spend her life with? Angel was appalled! How had she been able to chose Spike even after this horrifying display of rabid beastliness?

Angel continued to watch in horror.

Spike pinned Buffy to the floor. She was pleading now, desperately begging him to stop, to let her go. But he wouldn't.

Angel didn't think he could stand to see the final outcome. He tore his eyes away and stared blankly at the floor.

"I don't want to see anymore of this. Make it stop."

"Are you sure?" the woman asked. "Don't you want to see how it ends?"

"I don't need to see how it ends."

"Very well," she said, as she raised her hand to wave the offending image away.

"Wait!" Angel looked up at her. He had to know. It looked bad, very bad. But without seeing it through there was no way to know what had actually happened. Buffy was in no state to tell him, and Spike . . . well Spike had taken it with him to his very dusty end. Angel had to know, even if it meant suffering through the torment of watching Spike violate the woman they both claimed to love.

"I want to see it. Show me the end."

"Are you certain?"

"Just get it over with."

The Oracle simply shrugged and restarted the scene, beginning it from the exact second Angel had turned away.

Angel caught an unneeded breath.

And there the image stopped. The mirage disappeared and the room was suddenly silent.

For a long time Angel couldn't move. Even though the image had been removed from his sight, he could still see the horror being replayed before his eyes. Over and over again. Spike had tried to rape Buffy. Oh God. Angel felt like he was going to fall through the floor.

"Do you still wish to defend the vampire?" the male Oracle asked, as he watched Angel intently.

Slowly, Angel turned to look at the two loftier-than-thou higher beings. There was a quiet rage burning behind his eyes.

"Why did you show me this?"

"You had to see," the girl said, as she descended a single step closer to him. "You had to know what you were fighting for. Who you were defending."

"And now that you do, I ask you again. Do you still wish to defend the vampire?"

Angel gritted his teeth and tried to think. His gut instinct was to say "no," to tell them to let Spike rot in hell for all eternity. But he knew better than that. That's just what they were expecting, just what the Oracles and The Powers wanted.

Angel steadied himself, and tried to sort through the turmoil in his head. Spike had obviously not succeeded in raping Buffy, and Buffy had obviously managed to forgive him. But was it enough? If Angel had his way he would let Spike burn, but could he do that to Buffy? What good would she be to any of them if she never snapped out of the fog she was in? There would be time for questions and repercussions later. Angel knew what he had to do.

Taking a hard, shuddering breath he said, "Yes."

"Even knowing what he has done?" the man asked, not bothering to mask the amazement in his voice.

"Yes."

"You love her that much?" the girl said, as she descended another step and searched Angel's eyes, obviously fascinated.

"I want her back. Among the living," he said, a hard edge to his voice. "What . . . he . . . has done, is in the past. Buffy forgave him. Who am I to hold a grudge against him?"

"But you do."

"But that doesn't matter. We need her, and if bringing back Spike is the only way to reach her, then so be it."

"You speak well for her character, but what of the vampire?" the brother questioned.

"You still want me to defend him?"

"That is why you're here."

"Fine." Angel looked about the room, his eyes narrowed with thinly veiled rage, searching for something to say in Spike's defense. There was only one thing he could say. "Buffy loves him. Loves him more than she loved me. What better defense can I offer than that?"

"You truly are a higher being," the woman chimed, as she gazed at him in obvious awe and appreciation. "We shall see what we can do." She turned and joined her brother on the top step.

"And Spike?" Angel asked. "Will he be a vampire or a mortal?"

"Which would you prefer?" the man asked.

"Oh. I don't know. Whatever's better for Buffy, I guess."

"Granted," the female Oracle said. She raised a gold and blue shimmering hand in the air and pointed toward the doorway, "Goodbye, noble vampire."

Angel knew better than to stay once he had been dismissed. He turned and made his way back through the portal. He felt his limbs starting to tremble, his mind humming with a dizzying haze, all the anger and frustration of the past few minutes finally catching up with him. His insides were roiling, his mind a tumult of conflicting emotion. He just hoped he had done the right thing.

Chapter Four: The Vision

Everything was dark - her mind a cloudy, black haze. She couldn't see or think or feel. She was numb - completely and totally numb - from head to toe. Buffy lay still in her bed, her eyes closed, existing somewhere between the worlds of wake and sleep. Suddenly, a light shone through the darkness.

Where there had once been a vacuum, now there was light. Frantic images started crowding her head, swimming about, fighting for space.

The battle. She saw the battle.

Everything was masked in a blood red haze. She could see the demons falling, see her friends falling. There was screaming and bloodshed. She felt trapped. Desperately alone and trapped.

Buffy began tossing in her sleep. The blood was pumping faster through her veins, and she was desperately struggling to break free of the nightmare.

Then the picture changed.

Everything was calm.

She saw Spike, standing before her. He was watching her curiously, questioning her with his eyes. She wanted to reach out to him, to take a step forward and touch him, but she couldn't. Try as she might, her body refused to move.

And then, before she knew what was happening, the battle was once again surrounding them. The demon she had seen kill Spike was lumbering up behind him. She tried to call his name, but she couldn't. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound wouldn't come. Spike continued to stare at her. Buffy struggled against the chains of her nightmare, to no avail. Paralyzed and helpless, she watched again as Spike received a stake through the heart and disappeared in a burst of ashes.

Her limbs were twitching now, her body trembling with her frenzied struggle. She threw her arm out over the side of her bed and hit the lamp on the bedside table, knocking it to the floor. Even the sound of the crash wasn't enough to wake her from her nightmare.

In an instant, the cloud of dust dissipated to reveal a steady stream of frenetic images. All of Spike. She saw him as William. Saw him as William the Bloody. As Spike. It seemed his entire life was flashing before her eyes. More than a hundred and forty years sped before her in a matter of seconds, everything from his birth to his turning, to his ultimate death just a week earlier.

The images were jumbled, horribly out of sequence and disturbing in their intensity. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, but she couldn't do anything. Just lie there and watch as her mind fought to make some sense of the chaos before her.

One moment she was seeing Spike slaughter a dozen people. The next, he was taking care of Dawn after Buffy had died two years ago. Now he was killing again. There was no method to the madness, just a random assault on her senses.

She felt warm hands on her arms. Someone was shaking her. Buffy tried to break free of the dream, but couldn't. Somewhere in the distance a voice was calling her name.

"Buffy, wake up. Buffy!"

Buffy's eyes shot open, and she realized she was sitting up in bed. Dawn was just inches in front of her, perched on the edge of the mattress, her hands gripping her sister's arms tightly.

Buffy was shaking, her breath coming in heavy pants. Her skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and in spite of the fact that she had just woken up, she felt like she was going to pass out.

"Buffy, are you okay? Can you hear me?" Dawn asked frantically, as she moved closer and searched Buffy's clouded eyes.

"What . . .?" It was barely a whisper.

"Oh thank God!" Dawn exclaimed, as she threw her arms around Buffy and wrapped her in a warm, desperate hug.

Buffy could hear the faint sound of her sister's crying. Gently, she pushed Dawn away so she could get a better look at her. Dawn seemed to be in one piece. She looked healthy, unscathed. She looked like she had just been roused from a fitful sleep herself. "What happened?"

"You had a dream. A nightmare. You knocked the lamp over, and--"

"No. Not that." Buffy shook her head absently, trying to clear her fogged brain. "The battle? Did we win?"

Dawn couldn't suppress a laugh. "Uh . . . no. We didn't win. And for some inexplicable reason, heaven just happens to look a lot like your bedroom back in Sunnydale."

Buffy gave her sister a censorious look.

"Of course we won. Saved the world. Carried the day. Averted another Apocalypse. What else is new?"

"And Spike?" Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Buffy already knew the answer to her question, but she still needed to hear someone say it.

Dawn dropped her eyes and slid her hand over Buffy's, squeezing it gently. "He didn't make it," she said quietly.

For a long, painful moment, Buffy just sat there, perfectly still. She had known what they were risking when they had gone into battle, but knowing the risk and actually living with the consequences were two different things. Buffy had thought if Spike died, that she would die too. How was she supposed to keep on living, now that he was gone?

Buffy pulled her hand away and shifted off the bed. Wrapping her arms around herself, she drifted over to the window and stared out into the street. "Who . . . else . . . did we lose?"

Dawn turned on the bed so she was facing Buffy, but she made no move to join her sister. "Faith. Kennedy. Rhona, Amanda. More than half the Potentials."

"Anyone else?"

"No. Everyone else made it out okay."

"And the new Slayer?" Buffy asked.

"We don't know," Dawn said, as she nervously folded her hands between her knees and began bouncing the heels of her feet on the floor. "None of the Potentials were called. Giles doesn’t know what's going on. With the Council gone, he's not sure how this thing is supposed to work."

Buffy shook her head again, and turned her body slightly back toward the room. "How did we defeat it?" she asked, catching a glimpse of Dawn over her shoulder.

"Faith. She . . . she sacrificed herself. Threw herself into the Hellmouth, and restored the balance of Slayer power. At least, we figure that's what did it. The Hellmouth is gone. Apparently, the life of one Slayer was enough to destroy it for good. Now Sunnydale is just your average vampire and demon infested burb. No different than New York, or Chicago, or any other town."

"Uh huh," Buffy mumbled, barely audibly.

"What?"

"Oh." Buffy turned around to face Dawn now, her arms still wrapped tightly around her chest. "It's just that those shaman, or whatever they were, who instituted the Slayer line in the first place, told me I was going to be the last Slayer to protect the Hellmouth. I guess they weren't kidding." Buffy sank down beside Dawn on the bed and stared straight ahead. "So now what do we do?"

"I don't know. Everyone was just waiting to see what would happened when you joined the land of the living again. Now you're here, I guess we have to figure out what to do."

"How long . . . how long was I gone?"

A small smile pulled at Dawn's lips as she answered, "A hundred and forty-seven days?"

"You're kidding," Buffy said, dumbfounded.

"Of course I'm kidding. You've only been out to lunch for nine days now."

"Good," Buffy mumbled absently. After a long silence she said, "Dawn?"

"Yeah, Buff?"

"Are you all right?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine. Now that you're here." Dawn wrapped her arm around Buffy's and cuddled up close to her. "We'll get through this together. Somehow, we'll find a way to make it work."

Buffy sighed and leaned her head against Dawn's. Slowly, she let her eyelids drift shut, and tried to lose herself in the vast blackness clouding her vision. But it was no use. An image appeared before her, a strange yet familiar image. She had seen it before. Right before Dawn had woken her up.

It was Spike. He was standing in front of her. He was completely naked.

Buffy's heart skipped a beat, but not with arousal. With fear.

He looked so different. His hair had grown out. It was brown, not blond. He looked very much like the William she had seen in her vision - except for the naked part. He was looking around searchingly. He seemed to be confused.

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut, trying to discern any detail of his surroundings, or what was going on. But she could make out nothing. Just Spike, pale and vulnerable, standing in a vast, empty darkness.

A painful shudder coursed through Buffy's body as she watched him helplessly. She wondered if he was in hell, if she was seeing him as he was now. She could feel tears stinging behind her eyes, but she couldn't open them. She would never open her eyes again, if it meant that she could continue to see Spike.

Finally, however, the image faded, and Buffy was greeted by a warm, mindless sleep.

Chapter Five: Morning Has Broken

The next morning dawned bright and early in the Summers home. Dawn couldn't wait to wake everyone and tell them that Buffy was okay.

Willow was still living with them, of course, but Giles was staying with Xander. Dawn had called there first thing and woken a very grumpy Giles from his sleep. She had begged him and Xander to come over and join them for breakfast, but Xander had said he couldn't make it. After all, he was the only one among them who had a real job.

When Giles finally arrived, Willow made everyone sit down in the dinning room for a full chocolate-chip-pancake-and-bacon-and-eggs breakfast.

"And you’re sure you're feeling all right?" Giles asked, as he stirred the cup of tea Willow had brought him. He was watching Buffy curiously, like a concerned parent.

"Yeah, I feel fine," she answered, heaping her plate with two stacks of pancakes. "I can't believe I was out for an entire week. I certainly feel like I haven't eaten in a week."

"Giles was really worried," Willow said, as she finished serving and joined them at the table. "We all were."

"I know. But I'm fine now."

They all looked at her suspiciously.

"Really!"

Giles cleared his throat and everyone went back to eating.

"So what exactly was it that freed you from your catatonic state?" he asked. "Dawn said you were having a nightmare. Do you remember what it was about?"

Buffy could feel the blood freeze in her veins. She didn't want to think about the nightmare. The vision. Whatever it was. She didn't want to think about Spike. Didn't want to break down in front of her friends.

She picked up a bottle of syrup and lifted it high above her plate. Focusing intently on the liquid trickling from the bottle she said, "It was about the battle. Just reliving scenes from it. That's all."

"Scenes?" Giles asked. "What kind of scenes?"

"Oh, you know. Death, screaming, horror and bloodshed. Same old, same old." She put the syrup down and cut into her pancakes with the side of her fork.

Giles leaned forward, concern evident in his very distinguished face. "Buffy. Was there anything else? Anything out of the ordinary? That battle has been haunting you ever since it happened. I can't believe that all of a sudden, the memory would just snap you out of your catatonia."

"Well it did." She turned to look at him. "Look Giles, I know it doesn’t make much sense. But I relived the battle last night. And then . . . and then I saw . . ." Buffy couldn't finish. Her eyes dropped to the table, and she found herself unable to speak.

"Spike," Dawn provided.

Buffy hadn't told Dawn about the dream, but they all knew. It didn't take a genius to figure it out.

"I see," Giles said. He turned back toward his breakfast and they proceeded to eat in silence.

A few minutes later, the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Dawn said, jumping out of her chair and dashing to the kitchen. She picked up the phone on the second ring. "Hello? Summers residence."

"Hey Dawn? It's Angel."

"Angel? Hi how are you? You'll never believe what's happened!"

"Spike came back from the dead?" he asked, tentatively.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. I just called to see if there was any change in Buffy's condition. Is she all right?"

"Yeah. She's more than all right. She's alive and awake, and in the dinning room stuffing her face with a mound of pancakes."

"Well, sounds like Buffy. Can I talk to her?" he asked, his voice a little weary.

"Oh yeah, sure. Hold on a sec."

Dawn brought the cordless phone into the dinning room and handed it to Buffy. "Here. It's for you."

Buffy stared at the phone curiously before bringing it to her ear. Who even knew that she was out of her catatonic state? "Hello?" she asked with slight trepidation.

"Buffy? It's me, Angel."

"Angel!"

Giles and Willow both stopped eating and stared at Buffy.

"I just called to see if everything was all right. If you were okay."

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine now. Really. I just came out of it last night. Everything's fine. I've got Giles here, and Willow. And we're all fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure."

"Because you just said you were fine like three times. Buffy, is there something I can do?"

"What? No," she started pulling at her napkin with her free hand. "There's nothing to be done here. I think we all just need some time to get past what's happened that's all. So," she rattled on, before he could contradict her, "how are Cordelia, and Wes and the whole gang?"

"Fine. Just fine."

"Good," she said cheerily. "Then everybody's fine and everything's okay. I'm really glad you called Angel. And I'm really glad you're safe. If you need anything, just let us know. Okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure Buffy. Whatever you say."

"So, that's it then right?"

"Um. Well. No actually."

"There's something else?"

"Buffy," he began, but he didn't finish. He sighed into the phone. "Never mind. It's not really important. Look, if anything strange happens in the next couple of days, promise me you'll call me. I've heard there might be something going down in Sunnydale. Nothing to get alarmed about, mind you. But there may be some unusual activity within the next couple of days. Promise me you'll call."

"I promise."

"Okay good." He hesitated. "So, I guess that's it then."

"I guess so."

"Bye Buffy."

"Bye Angel." She hit the "end" button on the phone and placed it down on the table.

"And just what was that about?" Giles questioned, in his best fatherly voice.

"Angel just wanted to know if I was okay," she said absently. "Everything's fine. Nothing to worry about. Really."

* * *

Later that day, Buffy was roaming around the house, trying to take her mind off the chaos in her head. She didn't want to think about anything - about Spike, or Faith, or anyone else that they had lost. She just wanted to be numb.

Upstairs, Buffy noticed that the door to Willow's room was half-open. Peeking inside, she saw Willow sitting on the edge of the bed, staring listlessly at a framed picture in her hands.

Buffy knocked quietly and pushed the door open a little more. "Can I come it?" she asked tentatively.

Willow looked up, startled. "Oh sure, sure." She put the picture facedown on the bed beside her.

Buffy entered the room and closed the door. She sat down next to Willow on the corner of the mattress. Buffy knew Willow had been through a lot, losing Kennedy. She just didn't know how to offer her condolences. "How are you?"

"Me? I'm fine. Still here," she said looking down at herself and then back up at Buffy. "Yup, that's definitely me."

"Will, I just want you to know how sorry I am that . . ."

"It's okay Buff. I'm dealing. I just think I'm going to stay very, very far away from romantic entanglements for a while. Like maybe till the end of time?"

"I know what you mean," Buffy said somberly, looking down at her hands, clasped in her lap.

"Buffy, I'm so sorry."

"No." She looked up at Willow. "It's okay. Really. I just have to learn to deal, that's all. It's gonna take some time. A lot of time. I . . ." Buffy gave up. Somehow it was a lot easier to put up a front for Giles than it was to do it for Willow. She knew she was starting to break down. "I will just . . . have to get past it. That's all."

"Easier said than done."

"I know." Buffy felt her chest tightening, the tears threatening to come once again. She inhaled a sharp breath and determined not to cry. She looked at Willow. "That's Tara isn't it?"

Willow picked up the picture and looked at it again. "Yeah. I can't stop thinking about her. Can't stop feeling guilty."

"You shouldn't feel guilty Will. Tara wouldn't have wanted that."

"I know. But it doesn't make it any easier. I miss her. And with Kennedy gone, I just . . . I don't know. Maybe it's me. Maybe I just shouldn't get close to anyone, because every time I do . . ." her voice broke with a sob, and Buffy moved closer, wrapping her arms around her best friend.

"That's not it Will," Buffy said, trying to comfort her. "It's not you. It's just the way life works. Every Spring the Apocalypse comes, and every year we lose someone else. Sometimes more than one someone. It's life on the Hellmouth."

"The Hellmouth's gone," Willow said, pulling away a little.

"Then maybe it'll be over. Maybe that'll be an end to it. Maybe we won't lose anyone else."

"You don't really believe that."

"Well, no. Not really. But hey? It sounded good." Buffy sighed lightly. "Will, is there anything I can do?"

"What?" Willow looked at her in surprise. "No. No. Nothing at all. You just concentrate on getting better. That's all that matters. The rest will take care of itself, I guess."

"You're sure?"

"Yes Buffy. It's all right. I'll be okay."

Willow patted Buffy's hand gently.

They continued to sit there in silence, both lost in their own grief.

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