Title: Inside, Part 2 - Chapter 11 of How Many Days
Disclaimer: Joss doesn't play with his toys anymore. Someone has to, dammit!
Rating: R
Pairing: Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Other, Willow/Giles, Willow/Other
Summary: Post-Season 7. This is a sequel to 'Don't Stop the Dance'
Distribution: Anywhere you like, just let me know.
Feedback: is welcome. [xionin@beautiful-freak.com]
Thank you: Maribel and Pam: the most amazing betas in any universe.
Lyrics: "Inside" by Sting

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside the failures of the light,
The night is wrapped around me.
Inside my eyes deny their sight,
You'd never find me in this place.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy's eyes flutter open and she finds herself staring at her ceiling.
Exhausted doesn't even begin to cover what she's feeling right now.

Gutted.

That's a much more fitting word.

Any semblance of normalcy she'd scraped together over the course of the year has vanished in one puff of acrid smoke. The candles are all snuffed out.

How could she have Been. So. Stupid?

Spike is gone, he's...gone.

There are no special reprieves; no prophecies concerning the sacred love of a slayer and a vamp. He isn't going to be returned to her and they aren't going to ride off into the sunset while orchestrated strings float on the air.

For a while, Buffy thought she had been handling everything pretty well: Training new slayers; Helping Dawn grow up into a beautiful young woman; Working with Giles to rebuild the Council. She had almost fooled herself.

But then he came. NO! No. It.

God she's missed him. She's yearned for him; his touch, his taste, his everything.
And look at what it almost cost her?

She is drowning in her grief.

"Oh god."

Buffy swipes at the strangled tears that slide down her cheeks. She's surprised she has anything left to produce them. The thought of what she's been doing since that first night that it appeared brings a wave of nausea to her stomach. She swallows it down.

"I can't do this anymore."

Buffy closes her eyes and sinks into the soft down of her pillows and duvet. She calls upon the power that Willow had given her early last year; the ability to take small, mental vacations.

Only this time, she isn't looking to take a break. This time, she wants to say goodbye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside we're hidden from the moonlight.
We shift between the shadows,
Inside the compass of the night,
Inside the memory of your face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It isn't hard. She pictures herself first and then the place she wants to be. It's instinct, really. She'd always wanted to see him in the brilliant sunlight, strolling along the beach barefoot.

So she goes there to wait for him.

Buffy walks down the dune to the edge of the wet sand, her baby blue tank top trapping the breeze against her sensitive skin. Her white linen pants billow out with each strong gust.

The sky is a brilliant shade of cornflower blue; just like his eyes. The bright sun warms her. She misses the California sunshine. Buffy sits down and closes her eyes; allowing the warmth to seep into her flesh. A small smile plays upon her lips.

She feels him approaching.

Strong legs bend to the sand behind her, embracing her as sturdy hands take purchase on her bare shoulders.

"Hello, luv." He kisses her hair, he always loved her hair, and wraps his arms around her; resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Spike." Buffy finds it easy to say his name in this place; so unlike the real world, where she has to turn away from the pity in their eyes. She covers his arms with her own.

"I'm here, pet." She can feel his intake of breath as he nuzzles into her neck. "Never leavin' you."

"I know. I know you'll always be with me." She turns in his arms to face him. Her eyes take him in hungrily. He looks so incredibly beautiful in the summer light; his snowy hair dancing alongside strands of sun-kissed gold. He's wearing a bright blue t-shirt and faded jeans that cling to the hard planes of his body. And he's barefoot, of course.

Buffy traces the outline of his lips with her fingertip. Her eyes well up with tears and he reaches out a steady hand to catch them as they fall.

"S'alright, Buffy. I understand." He whispers.

"I'm so sorry, Spike. I'm...I'm so..." Her head drops as she sobs into his chest and he gently caresses her back, whispering soothing words into her ear.

"S'ok, Buffy."

"I love you, Spike. I love you so much."

"I know."

"I'll al...always..."

"I know, pet, shhhhh." Spike rocks her in his arms, kissing her over and over again. As she calms down a bit, she looks up at him and he gives her a dazzling smile.

"You're so beautiful, Spike. My William."

"So are you, baby. I'll never stop loving you."

Buffy gazes deeply into his eyes.

"I have to say goodbye." She says quietly.

"I know."

"I don't want to, Spike."

"I know that too, but it really isn't goodbye."

"I know." She runs her hand through his hair and he closes his eyes.

"I'm going to Sunnydale."

Spike looks at her for a long moment before smiling sadly.

"If that's what you need to do, luv."

"I need...I need closure. I think..."

"Maybe you'll find it there?"

"Maybe. I just know that I can't go on living like this. It's not...it isn't a life."

"I know, baby, I know. What is it I said once? You have to go on living..."

"So that...so..." She breaks down again and he cradles her in his arms.

"So one of us is living." He gathers her to himself and begins swaying back and forth, calming her. "That's right, luv. Let it out, pet. Let it out, my girl. My Buffy...mine."

"Yours." She raises her head to meet his eyes.

"Forever." She nods and smiles, tears falling in golden droplets down her cheeks.

"Forever." She softly kisses him.

Buffy surfaces from her waking dream. Her hair is soaked with the essence of her grief.

"Forever, Spike." She sits up on her bed and looks out the open window. "I'm coming home to say goodbye."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I climb this tower inside my head
A spiral stair above my bed.
I dream the stairs don't ask me why,
I throw myself into the sky.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy feels awful about leaving nothing but a note behind to explain her absence, but she just isn't able to handle their questions right now. She also regrets having to lie to them; telling them that she'd gone down to Leeds for some R&R.

Surely they'd understand that she needs to get away, after...

Maybe she'll tell them, when she returns, where she's really been. They probably wouldn't appreciate her need to go back; to see where her life ended and where it has to begin again. Sunnydale is now just an immense and yawning hole in the ground, but it isn't large enough to hold her love or her sorrow.

After boarding the plane at Heathrow, she settles into the window seat under two complimentary blankets and is dozing fretfully even before the aircraft leaves the gate.

She doesn't notice the quiet, white-haired girl that passes by on her way to a seat in the back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Love me like a baby, love me like an only child
Love me like an ocean; love me like a mother mild
Love me like a father, love me like a prodigal son
Love me like a sister, love me like the world has just begun
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She'd slept during the entire flight and didn't wake up until they arrived in Los Angeles. Buffy had gathered herself quickly and exited the plane heading straight for her pre-arranged rental car. From LAX it would be a lonely drive up to the Sunnydale Crater.

Buffy can't believe how much of a tourist trap the surrounding area has become. Fortunately, she's alone on this last stretch of highway. She rolls down the windows of her SUV and lets the wind have its way with her hair.

The neon tape of the road signs tell her she's close, but she can already feel how close she is. She feels the pull of the Hellmouth, even in its dormant state.

She also thinks that she feels his presence, though it could be her imagination.

Twenty miles from the site, as evening approaches, she pulls her car over to the side of the road. Opening the door she hops out and stands on the asphalt, peering out over the expanse of desolation. She takes a deep breath and then climbs back inside to resume the final leg of her journey.

Fifteen minutes later she is pulling up to a large boulder at the edge of the crater. Buffy parks and cuts the engine. The sky is midnight blue and peppered with thousands upon thousands of tiny stars. The air hums with a heavy silence. There aren't any living creatures for miles.

The car door slams shut loudly behind her and Buffy apologizes to no one. Disturbing the somber quiet feels almost sacrilegious, she thinks. She hugs her leather jacket to her and smoothes down the legs of her jeans.

Clutching the roses she'd purchased at the last outpost of civilization, Buffy moves unsteadily towards the crater's edge. Her boots crunch on the loose gravel. Kneeling, she places the bouquet on the ground and sits back on her heels to take in the disturbing view.

In the pit of the crater, there are no signs of life - not even a weed. There are no indications of it at the jagged edge or even beyond, as far as her eyes can see in the moonlit night.

There's just...nothing; nothing but a great, gaping hole in the world. Just like the hole in her world; A hole that will never, ever be filled.

And here I am saying goodbye...trying to find peace.

"There is no peace." She sighs, reconciling with her pain. "I'm bringing flowers to mark the place that sucked away his soul."

The moment is so surreal to her that she barks out a bitter laugh.

This is beyond unfair; this is cruel and unusual punishment.

"Am I ever going to get a break?!" She stands up and screams into the night. The sound is swallowed up; No echo returns to mock her.

She wants to cry, but there aren't enough tears for this. So she speaks to him.

"Spike..." She closes her eyes and lets the cool, evening breezes buoy her; give her the words - the strength - to do this.

"'I miss you' sounds so...so lame." She laughs bitterly. "It's beyond the telling of it." Buffy opens her eyes and looks down into the black mouth in front of her.

"I was angry with you, with myself, for a long time. I couldn't believe that you left me; that I let you go...that I didn't stay.

"That you didn't stay here with me. There had to have been another way." She takes a shuddering breath. "I know what you're saying. 'D' you think I wanted to burn to a crisp, luv?' or something British like that.

"You really had a way with words..." She stands in silence, recalling the plethora of nicknames he had for her and her friends. She smiles.

"I miss your words, Spike."

Buffy sits on the ground, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of the petals in front of her.

"I miss...I miss your nose." She smiles. "I think you must have broken it one too many times, 'cause it was bumpy. Kind of like a lump of Playdoh. Cute Playdoh, though.

"Ha! Playdoh though...you would have laughed at my lame-o joke, wouldn't you? Yeah, you would've.

"I miss your laugh.

"You didn't laugh nearly enough, Spike. Not nearly." She frowns. "Why was that?" She picks up a pebble and tosses it into the chasm. "Why didn't you...I dunno...let your hair down more...a-around the others. Was it because of me?"

She sighs and hangs her head, roughly tossing another stone into the abyss.
"Of course it was, Buffy." She shakes her head. "Everything you did, you did for me.

"Did I ever do anything for you? Did I?

"Did I...I mean...were you happy? In the end? Did you know that I loved you...Love...Love you...with everything that I am? And I always will, Spike. I always will.

"But...but I know that what I'm doing, how I'm living, is not how you would have me live, so...for you...I'm going to try hard to...to let go."

Her voice hitches and the tears begin. She sobs quietly for a few minutes and then gathers her reserves to finish what she's come here to do.

"I miss your hair. I don't know how you managed to keep it so soft when all you did was fry it 'til it was blonde." She smiles a small smile.

"I miss your hands, all rough and tender at the same time. You had beautiful hands.

"I miss your mind, Spike, and how you loved poetry. I...I've been reading some of the writers you told me about. I think you'd be proud. You were always trying to hide what you knew, but...see...your intelligence was in your eyes.

"I miss your eyes, how blue they were; how they always saw me, even when I was hiding from you. How they used to speak to me, even when you weren't saying anything. You were always talking to me with your eyes.

"I miss your voice." She shivers. "Oh god your voice. I don't know if you knew, or if I ever got the chance to tell you...well, I'm telling you now. Your voice was like chocolate for the ears, honey. Oh...your voice was such a distraction during all of those strategy meetings. I used to pray that you wouldn't say anything sometimes, back before we...um...y' know...'cause I couldn't always concentrate on the words because of the sound of your voice.

"That's why I used to get so snippy with you, most of the time. It was my way of, I dunno, snapping out of it; the sort of trance you put me in just by talking to me.

"And then later, when we were not-quite-together...your voice...in my ear while we were...oh man...

"And then last year...the things you said...the way you made me feel. Oh Spike. I miss you. Miss you miss you miss you. How can I do this?"

Buffy draws her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them, softly weeping into her denim-clad legs. She half-expects to hear his voice in the darkness. She's half-tempted to slip away into unconsciousness and let him come to her in a dream.

But this isn't about her, it's about him. And her responsibility to let him rest in peace. Finally.

She raises her head and blinks away the remaining tears. Grabbing the flowers, she climbs to her feet.

Buffy walks to the edge of the cavern. She kisses the soft buds lovingly before she tosses them into the crater, watching their descent until she can no longer distinguish them against the dark matter below.

Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath and looks out over the expanse as she recites.

"If suddenly you do not exist...if suddenly you no longer live, I shall live on. I do not dare, I do not dare to write it, if you...if you die. I shall live on."

She swallows a threatening sob and steels herself to continue.

"Forgive me. If you no longer live, if you, beloved, my love, if you have died,
all the leaves will fall on my breast, it will rain on my s-soul night and day,
the snow will burn my h-heart, I shall walk with frost and fire and d-death and snow

"My feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping, but I shall stay alive, because above all things you wanted me indomitable and, my love, because you know that I am not only a woman but all womankind."**

She kisses her shaky fingertips and blows it into the windless air.

"Ok, so I changed it a little." She smiles and then lets out a half-sob.

"Just remember...always, Spike, I love you." She closes her eyes and allows the water of her grief to fall before her.

"Goodbye." She whispers before running quickly back to the car. Getting in, she starts the engine and reverses into the road; turning the wheel and heading back towards Los Angeles. The dawn bursts onto the horizon in a brilliant display of purple and gold as she speeds her way back into the waiting arms of the world.

Title: Until... - Chapter 12 of How Many Days
Disclaimer: Joss doesn't play with his toys anymore. Someone has to, dammit!
Rating: R
Pairing: Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Other, Willow/Giles, Willow/Other
Summary: Post-Season 7. This is a sequel to 'Don't Stop the Dance'
Distribution: Anywhere you like, just let me know.
Feedback: is welcome. [xionin@beautiful-freak.com]
Thank you: Maribel and Pam: the most amazing betas in any universe.
Lyrics: "Until" by Sting
Author's Note: Ok, so here is the latest chapter in the saga. I must confess, I am not entirely happy with it. Still, you've waited long enough and I need for this story to progress. Chapter 12 sets the stage for chapter 13: Lazarus Heart. I appreciate all of your patience with this story. Things will move along at a much faster clip from here on out. You have my word.

Love you!
~Xio

Until....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One day you’ll meet a stranger
And all the noise is silenced in the room
You’ll feel that you're close to some mystery
In the moonlight and everything shatters
You feel as if you’ve known her all your life
The world’s oldest lesson in history...- Sting
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Title: Lazarus Heart - Chapter 13 of How Many Days
Disclaimer: Joss doesn't play with his toys anymore. Someone has to, dammit!
Rating: R
Pairing: Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Other, Willow/Giles, Willow/Other
Summary: Post-Season 7. This is a sequel to 'Don't Stop the Dance'
Distribution: Anywhere you like, just let me know.
Feedback: is welcome. [xionin@beautiful-freak.com]
Thank you: Maribel [ dusty273 ], my amazing beta and amazing friend.
Lyrics: "Lazarus Heart" by Sting
A/N: A year later, the story continues. Thank you for being so infinitely patient. Lots of things are coming. I hope it will be worth the wait.
Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Every day another miracle
Only death will tear us apart
To sacrifice a life for yours
I'd be the blood of the Lazarus heart - Sting
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Lazarus Heart~

“I insist on coming with you.”

“Of course, Colin. I wouldn’t dream of-“

“Do you think it’s advisable? Moving her when she’s...she’s-“ Colin’s voice wavers.

Giles stops his frantic packing and turns to the frightened young man. He notes his disheveled appearance, the concerned look in his eyes; knows all-to-well the abject fear he feels. Dawn has been unstable; slipping in and out of hysteria with only brief moments of lucidity when she appears to be herself. Terrified beyond reason, but still herself. He knows that, under any other circumstances, he would not be dragging her halfway around the world. But Willow insisted.

No. She did more than insist.

There had never been a question in his mind that they were going to L.A. None at all. Willow showed him what was at stake: the life of a young girl who had finally begun to find her place in the world, and the soul of a man that died to save it.

No. No question at all. They were California-bound. And Giles wouldn’t dream of going without Colin. The rather obvious fact that he is madly in love with Dawn aside, Colin’s training as a Watcher could prove crucial against whatever it is that they will face.

Yes. Colin is coming.

Richard, on the other hand. Well...someone should stay to keep watch over Buffy. No doubt she’ll try to catch the next flight to Los Angeles, once she learns of everything. She’ll need someone she trusts here to help her think clearly. To keep her grounded.

“Mr. Giles?” Colin’s quiet terror brings the Watcher back to the present. He realizes he’d been quiet for sometime and hadn’t actually answered the young man’s query.

“Er...yes, Colin. Normally, I would agree with you, but I think we have to concur that the-the circumstances are rather remarkable. And Willow believes that it is absolutely necessary.”
Colin takes a moment to reflect and then nods mutely.

“Good. Gather Dawn. Her things are being packed by one of the matrons. Meet me in the foyer in 15 minutes. I’ve chartered a flight to get us there without incident.” Giles resumes packing up the books and papers he hopes may provide some assistance.

“Alright.” Colin nods firmly and then moves towards the door. “I don’t have time to go home and pack anything; I’ll just purchase whatever I need there.”

“Colin.” Giles’s voice stops him and he turns to face the weary man. “I love her too. Like a daughter, really. We will do everything in our power to make sure that she is safe.”
Colin’s eyes meet his in silent understanding before he turns and leaves the room. Giles exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose. He has to tell Buffy that they’re going to L.A.
He’s less concerned with her possible reaction to that news than he is to how she will respond when he asks her not to come with them. He doesn’t believe that she could handle what they’ll be facing. More to the point, he doesn’t believe she could handle the possibility – the mere possibility that Spike…

He sighs.

“I’ve failed to protect you so many times, my girl. Not this time.” He picks up the phone. “Mrs. Lowell, Rupert here. Yes. Yes, quite. Thank you. Listen, I was wondering if you could check in on Miss Summers the elder. I wan- What? What do you mean gone?” He removes his glasses, alarmed.

“I didn’t receive a letter.” He swings around and only then notices the small envelope near the frame of the door. “Wait, I think I do see something.” He bends to pick up the note and quickly opens it. “Did she say where she was going?” He scans the contents. “Well, how did she seem?” Relief spreads across his face. “A-alright, Mrs. Lowell, th-thank you. I appreciate your candor. Thank you, yes, goodbye.” He re-reads the letter more carefully.

Giles,

I need to get away for a few days, so I’ve gone down to Leeds. My friend Abby has a quiet place there and I just want to get my head together.
I know you guys are worried, but don’t be. I’m fine. Ok, I’m not fine, but I will be. I’m really sorry about hiding everything from you; what I was going through. I mean, I guess I didn’t really know myself how much I was hurting. How much I am still hurting.

Give me a few days and I promise I’ll be right and rainy, or however you put it. Honest, Giles. Don’t worry. Please tell Dawn I’m sorry and I love her. You too.

See you soon,
Buffy

That’s that, then. They’ll be gone and back before she even realizes it. And all will be right as rain. God willing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ I can’t imagine the amount of stress you must be under.” Fred enters the room and takes a seat next to Willow. Two feet of the black leather couch separates them. Willow turns her ice-blue eyes to the young brunette and offers a wan smile. “I’m...glad that Wes hasn’t cornered you with questions about your...well, your...”

“Being all big with the power?” Willow intercedes. Fred gives the Wicca an apologetic smile.

“Um, yeah.” She half-laughs. “Sorry, I mean, I hope you don’t think that’s all we care about. We’re really happy to see you, I-I’m really happy to see you.” Willow squeezes her hand reassuringly. “I just wish it weren’t another crisis. You know?”

“Yeah.” Willow shifts her attention back to the window. Fred studies her profile. “How have things been here?” Willow’s question catches her off guard.

“Things?” She nervously straightens the hem of her silk skirt. “Things have been...well, I won’t say fine, but they’ve been challenging. Yes, that’s the word: Challenging. We’re all adjusting to things.”

“Adjusting how?” Willow stands and walks over to the window, resting her forehead on the glass and looking down. Fred follows, standing at her side. Her hands flee to the comfort of her lab-coat pockets.

“We’re getting used to having so many resources at our disposal, so much knowledge at our fingertips; having a staff of, gosh, hundreds to help us with our work.”

“Help you how?”

“How? Well, we utilize the firm’s resources to help the helpless, you know: fight the good fight.” Fred smiles, but Willow doesn’t turn to receive it. Fred steps a little closer, turning her back on the glass, and studies the other woman. “I, um, know what it must look like – from where you’re standing: fighting the forces of evil while living and working with evil. We like to think we’re changing the system from the inside.”

“Really?” Willow swivels her head against the glass and locks gazes with Fred. “How much have you been able to change the system?”

“Well...you...can’t expect things to happen overnight. I mean these things take time. We don’t expect to affect immediate changes in everything, I mean, the entire system. We do a little at a time.”

“Do you ever get confused?” Willow considers the young woman carefully: Her tired eyes, her nervous hands. This is not someone secure with her place in the world.

“Confused? As in...?”

“As in ‘what are we doing here working for the most evil corporation known to man?’. Fred...” Willow peers down the length of the building to the ground. “Once when I was a little girl, maybe 4 or 5, I went to visit my father at his office. It was Daddy/Daughter day.” Fred pressed her forehead against the glass.

“I’d always wondered where my dad worked and when we walked up to his building, it was a lot like this one, I thought ‘cool’.”
Both girls smile.

“We rode up on the elevator. And I’m pretty sure that was the longest ride I’d ever been on in one. It was probably only 15 or 20 floors, but it felt like Charlie’s glass elevator: endless, you know? Like we were riding into the sky.” She laughs softly. “I guess I half-expected to end up in a chocolate factory.”

“What did your dad do?” Fred asks.

“He was...an attorney.”

“Wow, really?”

“No. Not really. He was a dentist.”

“Oh.”

“We’ll he was pretty ferocious as a dentist; quoting dental hygiene practices the way some lawyers quote statutes.” She offers a wry grin. “He was very opinionated. Always right. Always making decisions for my mom and me. Not listening to our needs.” Her head tilts, as if listening to something far away, before she speaks again. “People do that, when they feel responsible. They make decisions for others that aren’t always the best.”

“I bet that drove you and your mom crazy.”

“Well,” Willow peers out over the hazy Los Angeles skyline, feeling an uneasy familiarity at being suspended so high above ground. “My mom was an anthropologist, so there was always that lingering but silent argument about who was the ‘real’ doctor.” She sighs. “I think mom was bitter. Dad never really accepted her successes for what they were and he thought all of her ‘crackpot theories’ about the plight of indigenous peoples was hooey.”

“Did he use words like ‘hooey’?” Fred smiles wistfully. “My dad did too, but he was usually talking about my scientific interests. He didn’t understand them, but he always supported me.”
“ Well, I can’t say my folks were too proud to find out I was practicing magic.” She shrugs.” And, you know, the whole dating-a-girl thing just never got mentioned. There was just a river of denial in the
Rosenberg’s home.”

“Oh, wow. That’s sad.” Fred frowns, but offers a comforting pat on the shoulder to the distracted Willow. At the first touch, the Wicca flinches and looks at the quiet girl with something akin to horror on her face. Fred withdraws.

“Something wrong?”

“N-no. No.” Willow turns away, clearly disturbed.

They both stare through the glass in silence until the ping announcing their arrival at the 39th floor.

“We’re here.” Fred smiles nervously. Willow, remembering herself, returns the smile and settles back into easiness with the woman escorting her. She’s regretful, sometimes, for the endowments that she has been afforded.

So very sorry.

What’s the old saying about a gift? A blessing and a curse.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giles sits surrounded by papers and books in a myriad of languages. The leather of his seat is warm and comforting; a welcome respite from the frenzy of the last 36 hours.

Across from him, Colin cradles Dawn in his arms like she is something precious. He watches as the young people whisper and comfort one another with small touches. Dawn appears to be as concerned for Colin’s well being as he is for hers. Of course, she’s seen and been through far more than he, so it makes sense. Giles can only imagine how confusing this all must be for the young apprentice. But he has no doubt that he will do just fine, when events unfold. Not only because of his training and pedigree, but also because of his love for Dawn.

He muses a few moments more, grateful for the chance to see proof that love and human kindness are still thriving in times like these, and then returns to his research. He becomes so engrossed that he doesn’t feel Dawn slip into the seat next to his.

“I’m feeling better.”

“Oh?” He looks up and smiles. “I’m glad to hear it. You gave us quite a scare.” Dawn narrows her eyes at him, curious.

“Sorry about that, but I guess we both know that something big is happening – going to happen.” She glances over at a dozing Colin. “I haven’t said anything to Colin, but I know what’s going on.” She turns back to a befuddled Giles.

“You do?” he removes his glasses, and sits forward on his seat. Mindful of Colin, he lowers his voice. “How?”

“I just do. It’s Spike.”

“Spike? Did he do this to you, somehow? Use you to-“

“No, Giles. Nothing like that. But yes. I mean…we all know that something happened in the Hellmouth. Some of Spike ended up in me and I’ve been carrying that around with me ever since. And now it’s time for him to come back. He’s coming back, Giles.” She begins to shiver. Concerned, Giles feels her forehead.

“Dawn, are you alright?” He hands her a bottle of spring water and she takes a sip. “Perhaps you’d better lie down.”

“No, I’m ok. Just tired, I guess. Listen-“ She looks down at her hands, seemingly struggling to find the words. “This is right. Spike coming back is good, Giles. He deserves it. Buffy deserves it and they deserve to be together and to finally have that chance. You know?”

“Well, that would be a miracle, I agree, but what aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. Just…things could get rough. But, Giles, we have to see it through. Things have to be set right. They just have to.” She trails off.

“Dawn?” She doesn’t respond. “Dawn? I don’t understand. What do you know of this?” She simply stares off. “Dawn. Dawn!” Giles kneels before her, shaking her gently in an attempt to rouse her.
Colin wakes up immediately and is at her side.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. We were talking and then she just tuned out, as if her mind just wandered away.” The two men lift her and lay her on a couch at the side of the cabin, covering her with a blanket. Colin maneuvers a seatbelt and fastens her in, hovering over her protectively.

“What were you talking about?” Giles stands and walks back to his seat.

“Errr. Nothing of importance.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m sure she’ll be fine once we get to Willow. She’ll know what to do, don’t worry.”
At least he hopes she does.

“Mr. Giles, this is the cockpit. We’ve been cleared to land at Los Angeles International.” Giles watches as Colin secures himself next to Dawn, who is now sleeping restlessly.
Willow simply must know what to do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The light is somehow familiar. Warm and inviting, or at least it should be. Not to her, though. To her it seems like an omen. A sign of the horror to come. Bright and even, as if to say ‘you will not miss a single moment of your pain.’

She doesn’t want to be in this place, but perhaps…it is as it should be. Maybe everything really will be alright.

Your time is coming to a close, blasphemer.

I’m not afraid.

Your fear is irrelevant. However, you were correct.

I was?

All will be right. And soon.

I’m ready.

TBC: Chapter 14 - Gabriel's Message

Chapter 15: