Title: The End
Author: Paradox761
Email: Paradox761@mail.com
Website: members.tripod.com/~Paradox761
Disclaimer: Joss and co. own all things Buffy, no copyright infringement is intended. So please don’t sue, I don’t have any money anyway.
Summary: Post “Wrecked”, alt ending for season 6, and the series. B/W/X-friendship, Slight B/X and Ay/X.
Spoilers: “Wrecked”, and most of season 6.
Author’s note: For the purposes of characterization, in this story Spike did not attempt to rape Buffy. I am NOT a Spike fan, and this is NOT a fix-it fic. But I started this story before that happened, and I find it hard to write Spike as a sympathetic character after that scene. So to continue with the story as planned, that scene didn’t happen. Also, this story takes place before the Angel episode “Sleep Tight”. Also, I started this story after “Wrecked”, as I was starting to become unhappy with the way season six was turning out. I must say though, I couldn’t be happier with the way it ended. I could never top “Grave”, nor would I try. So I’ve gone in a different direction with this. But I did paraphrase some lines from Xander’s speech.
Dedication: To Jordan and Jessica, my angels. May they rest in peace.
Special thanks to: Wayne, Rob Clark, Ghostrider, Ozmandayus, Maggie C., Furious George, Bill, Calen, Chorlton, John, Wicked Raygun, DaBear, Cobra, Jeconais, Nathan Postmark, David, Drake Roberts, Angelus, Queen Boadicea, Scott, Malaskor, and The Crowe for the feedback and the encouragement with this story. I really appreciate it.

(5/12)

It was the next day and Spike was sitting in his crypt, flipping channels on the TV. He wasn’t really paying attention to anything on the screen though, the events from the night before kept playing over and over again in his head. Part of him kept reminding himself that he shouldn’t care, about any of it. So what if the witch wanted to kill them all, what business was it of his? He was the Big Bad after all. He should be helping to destroy them, not defending them. At the very least he should be hauling ass out of town. Powerful witch, wants him dead. The old Spike would have been halfway to Zimbabwe by now. Instead of just sitting in his crypt, watching reruns of M*A*S*H and waiting for the shit to hit the fan. But he wasn’t the old Spike, he was different now, and the chip wasn’t solely to blame. There was also the small matter of him being in love with the slayer. Not to mention the Little Bit. He could always fool himself when it came to Buffy, for a little while anyway, tell himself that it was just lust. But with Dawn things were more complicated than that. He’d do anything to protect her, anything. And somewhere deep inside of him, the demon was disgusted by that. He could hear it chiding him. He could feel it’s disdain, like bile rising in his throat.

You’ve gone soft, Spike! That’s all! You used to rip the throats out of little girls, and leave their broken bodies on their parents’ doorstep. Now you look after one, trying to score points with the slayer. You’re a mongrel dog, begging for scraps of affection from a woman who despises you. Whose very existence is dedicated to destroying your kind. You are truly pathetic!

Spike tried to shake those thoughts away. He stood and headed for his liquor cabinet. Pulling out a bottle of whiskey, he unscrewed the cap and took a long swig. The liquid burned down his throat, and Spike welcomed the sensation. He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but he was afraid. Not of Willow, or of his probable impending death. No, what he feared was much more heinous, in his mind at least. He knew it would happen, that Buffy and he would be discovered eventually. And he knew what it meant. Once she was confronted with it by her friends, everything would come out. Her anger, her fear, her resentment of them for pulling her from Heaven. They’d yell and scream and fight. Then they’d all hug and cry and apologize, and generally carry on in ways that would make any self-respecting vampire retch. And then all those empty promises Buffy had been making to end their little tryst wouldn’t be quite so empty anymore. He’d be on the outs, for good this time. And if he were lucky enough to escape staking, he’d at least receive a vicious ass kicking and a one-way bus ticket to anywhere-but-here, USA. He knew that he never had a chance with her. A real chance, at her heart. But he had her body, and for a while that was enough. He could always dream. He could always pretend that maybe she really did feel something for him, and that she was just in denial. That she kept coming back to him because somewhere deep down inside, she wanted him. And maybe if he kept telling her that, he’d convince her. Or himself, either one. But he knew the real reason. That she was just using him to hurt herself. Because if she felt pain, or disgust, or anger, than at least she felt something. And she wouldn’t be quite so dead inside anymore.

It was the first time Spike had allowed himself to think about it quite so much, for fear of what he would realize, and the thoughts struck him like a ton of bricks. Spike suddenly found himself very angry. He took another long pull from his bottle of whiskey before throwing it against the wall of his crypt, watching as it shattered into a million pieces.

“That bitch! Who the hell does she think she is, using me like that! ME! Spike! The Big Bad! William the frickin’ Bloody! If she thinks this is over, she’s got another thing coming! She doesn’t decide what happens to me! I’m not afraid of her! I’m not afraid of anyone!”

Just then, the door to Spike’s crypt flew open and there stood Xander. “Spike!” he shouted.

“Oh, shit!” Spike cried out, diving out of the sunlight that spilled into the room and down the ladder that led to the lower level of his crypt.

Xander just rolled his eyes and walked over to the edge of the whole in the cement floor of the crypt. “Relax Spike, I’m not here to kill you. I’m not even here to beat you up.”

Spike poked his head into view, his face looking puzzled for a second. “You’re not?” Spike shook his head. “I mean, of course you’re not. That would be ridiculous, you killing me. Ha!” Spike said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than Xander.

“Then come up here so we can have a little chat,” Xander said, keeping his voice level. He turned and headed for the door, closing it. Spike ascended the ladder slowly.

“So, you’re not mad?” he asked, disgusted by how whiney his own voice sounded. As he came over the top of the ladder he saw Xander standing by the door. He turned around with a stake in his left hand, spinning it between his fingers like a drumstick.

“Oh, I’m mad,” he corrected. “As Anya and the many fist-shaped holes in my drywall will attest. I just know that apart from drastically improving my mood, killing you wouldn’t accomplish anything. Besides…” Xander paused, seeming reluctant to say what he had to say next. “We need you.”

Spike’s eyes grew wide with that statement. “Well then, what’s with the stake, mate?”

Xander looked down at the stake as though he just noticed it. “Oh, that’s just a nervous habit,” he said, putting it back in his pocket. He let out a long sigh. “The truth is, as hard as I might try, I don’t even blame you.”

Again, Spike’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“No, believe me I wish I were. It would be so easy if you were the bad guy here, if you had forced Buffy into…whatever this is. But you and I both know that you couldn’t force Buffy to do anything she didn’t already want to do.” Spike looked nervous again for a second. “And before you say anything, I already know that your chip doesn’t work on her.”

At this point Spike’s face was in jeopardy of becoming frozen in a shocked expression. “How?”

“I’ve seen you two spar, I could tell that you weren’t holding back. I could see it in your eyes, you wanted to hurt her. And the chip didn’t even flinch. I figured it had something to do with Buffy’s attitude since she’s been back, the time that she had been spending with you. You saw the path she was on, where she was headed, and you knew it wasn’t good.

“But my point is that Buffy is a big girl, she can make her own decisions. If a person walks into a lion’s cage, you don’t blame the lion for eating them. She knew what you were, what you felt for her. You were straight with her.” Xander looked up at Spike and pointed his finger at him. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m happy about what you did,” he insisted in a harsh voice. “You knew what she was going through, what she was feeling. You knew that she didn’t love you, that she was just using you to hurt herself, but you kept it up anyway. You took advantage of her. You could have stopped it, you could have told someone. If you really love her, you should have done what was best for her, not you.” Xander paused again, his voice becoming calm again. “But like I said, I can’t blame you for what you are. And had our positions been reversed, as much as I hate to admit it, I don’t know that I would have acted any differently. I like to think I would, but I honestly don’t know.”

“I knew you still had a thing for her.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about that,” Xander said, neither confirming nor denying. “I came here to make sure you didn’t skip town over this. This isn’t over yet, and we need all the help we can get.”

“Where am I going to go?”

Xander nodded. “And I came here to ask you for a favor,” he said reluctantly. “You and I both know that what’s coming, this battle…” he paused. “It may very well be the end. Willow has gone past the point of no return.” Xander’s voice nearly cracked when he said what he said next, but he kept it steady. “It’s either her or us. And I don’t think that Buffy will be able to…what I mean is, if it should come down to it, I don’t think she could…”

Spike could tell that he was fighting tears as he trailed off. “Kill her,” he finished for him.

Xander just nodded, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts. “Buffy has a way of denying the reality of a situation when it comes to death and the people she loves. Truth be told, I don’t think I could do it either.” He paused. “If there should come a moment, and neither Buffy or I can…” he trailed off. “I need you to do what needs to be done.”

Just when Spike thought that this boy couldn’t surprise him anymore, he went and proved how much of a man he really was. “I understand,” Spike said simply.

Xander nodded. “Thank you,” he said. Turning, he headed for the door. But Spike’s voice stopped him.

“Have you talked to her yet?”

Xander turned back around. “That’s where I’m headed now.”

Spike nodded, reaching into his pocket he pulled something out and tossed it to Xander. “Here, I think you’ll need this.”

Xander looked down into his hands and saw Anya’s protection amulet, the one he had leant Spike the night before. He smiled slightly as he put it around his neck, giving Spike a nod of thanks before heading for the door again.

“Oh, and Xander,” Spike called out again. Xander just turned his head this time. “Thanks.” He meant it, he really did. And Xander could tell. It could have been for not killing him, and if asked that’s probably what Spike would have said. But Xander knew what it was really for. It was for understanding. He just nodded, and left, closing the door behind him.

Spike just looked at the door for a moment. “Good luck, kid. You’re going to need it.” He was almost surprised to realize that he meant that too. He could practically hear his demon gagging.

Give me a break!

*

Xander knocked on the door of the Summers’ residence, and Tara answered. “Hello Xander.”

“Hey Tara,” Xander said, giving her a smile. “Anya told me you were back. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Tara said, smiling back. She stood there for a moment, smile still on her face, not moving.

“Can I come in?” Xander asked finally.

“Of course,” she answered, stepping aside.

Xander thought it was a little odd, but he just chalked it up to stress. They were all feeling it. He stepped inside, spotting Dawn on the couch. She looked like she had been crying. “How’s Dawn doing?”

“She’s upset,” Tara said.

“Did she and Buffy fight?”

Tara shook her head. “Buffy went into her room as soon as she came home last night, she hasn’t been out since. That’s part of the reason Dawn is so upset, the fact that she won’t even talk to her about it.”

Xander nodded. “It’s a good thing you came back when you did then, isn’t it. Dawn is lucky to have you.”

Tara nodded. “I am lucky too,” she said. And with that, she walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch next to Dawn. Xander followed.

“Hey Dawn, how are you holding up?” Xander asked. Dawn looked up at him, silently answering him with her eyes. “Yeah, me too.”

“I just don’t understand, Xander. Why would she do it?” She paused. “I’m worried about her, she won’t even talk to me. I knocked on her door but she told me to go away. I’m getting scared.”

Xander kneeled down in front of where Dawn was sitting until they were at eye level with each other. “I know,” he said, putting his hand on her leg. “It’s okay to be scared. But Buffy is going to be okay, I promise. We all are.”

“What about Willow? Spike said last night that she tried to kill you.”

Xander knew that this would come. How was he supposed to explain to Dawn how it was too late for Willow, that she was too far gone for them to help her anymore. She wouldn’t understand. Xander wasn’t even sure that he understood. It was all just too much to heap onto a fifteen-year-old. “Willow is very confused right now. She doesn’t understand that we’re trying to help her. But we’re not going to let her hurt us, or anyone else.”

“It’s too late for her, isn’t it?” Dawn asked, on the verge of tears.

Xander didn’t answer, he just pulled her into a hug. The tears came, and Dawn buried her face in Xander’s chest as she sobbed. Xander just wrapped his arms around her and patted her chest, telling her that it was going to be okay. They both knew that it wouldn’t of course. But for the time being, in the safety of Xander’s arms, Dawn let herself believe it. Even if it was just for a little while.

The hug broke and Xander wiped a few tears off of Dawn’s cheek. “I should go talk to your sister.”

Dawn nodded. “I’ll be okay.”

Xander gave her a smile as he stood up. Tara put her arms around her to comfort her. Dawn closed her eyes and laid her head on Tara’s shoulder. Xander touched Tara on the shoulder and gave her a smile too before heading to the stairs.

Xander ascended the steps with trepidation, unsure of what waited for him at the top. After spending half the night before trying to sort through his own thoughts and feelings, he spent the other half speculating as to what Buffy’s were. He tried putting himself in her shoes, but he found it a hard task. To try and pretend that he knew what was going through her head after all she had been through in the past year would be futile, not to mention insulting. Buffy had been on a downward spiral ever since her return from the dead, and he was sure that she had finally struck rock bottom. She was circling the drain, and whether or not Xander could pull her out in time was anyone’s guess. But he was sure as hell going to try. He owed her at least that, after the part he had played in her resurrection. The guilt would be with him forever, and even though he knew that he would never be able to atone for what he had done to her, intentionally or not, he would never stop trying. All he could do, was try to put the past behind him, deal with the present, and prepare for the future. A difficult chore considering the amount of emotional baggage that lay in each of the three places. But the fate of the very world was at stake.

Xander got to the top of the steps and stopped in front of Buffy’s bedroom door. He stared at it for a few moments, like the Amazing Carnac staring at a white envelope, trying to guess what lay within. When he finally got up the courage, he raised his hand to knock. But he stopped when he heard the click of the lock turning, and Buffy’s voice from inside.

“Come in Xander,” she said flatly.

Xander flexed his fingers and lowered his hand to the knob, turning it and opening the door, he stepped inside. He had been in Buffy’s room before, countless times, but somehow this time it felt different. Like a lion’s den. It certainly didn’t look like one though. Xander spotted at least three all too familiar fist shaped wholes in the drywall. There was broken glass shards on the carpet next to her nightstand, and an overturned picture frame nearby. The wastebasket next to her bed was filled with balled up tissues. And finally, Buffy herself, sitting on her bed looking up at Xander expectantly. She was wearing the same clothes from the night before. She had bags under her eyes and tear tracks on her face.

“How did you know it was me?” Xander asked.

“I saw you pull up,” she said, motioning toward the window. Her voice sounded hoarse, like she had been crying all night. Or screaming, there was no way to tell. “So can we get this over with?” she asked, emotion showing in her voice for the first time. Agitation.

“Get what over with?”

“Whatever it is you came here for. To yell at me and tell me what a horrible person I am.”

“I just came here to see how you were doing.”

Buffy looked genuinely surprised at that. “Just peachy, how about you?” She asked sarcastically.

“I’ve been better,” Xander said seriously, keeping his voice level. There was a long pause while they both just looked at each other. Finally Xander spoke again. “I’m sorry for taking off last night like that. I just…” he drifted off. “I was upset, and I didn’t trust myself not to say something that I would later regret.”

“What were you upset about?” she asked. Xander didn’t answer, he just looked confused for a second. “I mean, what right do you have to be upset with me. I’m a grown woman, I can be with whoever I want to be with,” she said, her agitation growing. “And you have no right to tell me otherwise just because you’re jealous!”

Xander could feel his own anger rising but he pushed it down. “You got it all wrong, Buff,” he said, his voice calm. “I’m not jealous, I’m just worried about you.”

“Your concern is touching, but I’m fine.”

“You’re fine? You’re bumping uglies with Spike and you’re fine?” Xander asked, letting his anger show for a moment.

“It’s none of your business!” Buffy yelled.

“You’re my friend, and you’re hurting yourself. That makes it my business.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t think I know what you’re doing? Spike isn’t the problem, he never was, he’s just a symptom.” Xander paused. “You’ve been emotionally distant ever since you came back. Having everything heaped onto you again after where you’ve been, it must feel like Hell on Earth. It’s understandable that your emotions would be overloaded and shut down. It’s even understandable that you would turn to Spike. He’s an outsider, someone you don’t really care about. You can talk to him without having to worry about how he’s going to feel about what you say, because you don’t care how he feels. But what you’re doing with him is just hurting yourself. Because if you feel anger, or pain, or hatred, than at least that’s something. It’s better than being empty inside.”

“How do you expect me to feel! I did what was asked of me, I fought for five years while one by one the people I loved left me. I was finally finished. I was finally happy. To have it all ripped from me, to be thrown back into it all. To be told that no, there was a mistake. I didn’t deserve the happiness I had been given, that the only thing I deserved in life was heartache and misery. How do you expect me to feel, Xander!”

“I know that I’ll never be able to fully understand what you’re going through, and I know that I’ll never be able to make up for the part I played in your resurrection. But I am sorry, and I will carry that guilt for the rest of my life. We didn’t know, we thought we were helping you. I know that that’s little comfort, and I know that what we did is still wrong regardless of our intentions. But Buffy, we’re your friends. We’re not perfect, but we love you. You could have come to us.”

Buffy turned away. “You can’t understand, what it’s like. You can’t help me.”

“And Spike can, is that it?”

Buffy shook her head. “You’re wrong. I’m not trying to hurt myself with Spike.”

“Do you love him?”

“Of course not! What, you’re the only one allowed to have sex with someone without being in love!”

Xander felt a twinge of anger at that but he pushed it aside. “You don’t know anything about Anya and me.”

“Thanks to Anya broadcasting every detail about your sex lives, I know far more than I want to.”

“If you’re mad at me Buffy, then you take it up with *me*. Leave Anya out of this.”

“You don’t love her Xander, you never did. You’re just using her for sex. So you’ve got a lot of gall coming in her and lecturing me about my sex life. It’s none of your god damn business!”

Xander’s fists were clenched with rage, but he kept his voice steady. “I love her more than anything, and you don’t know anything about it. I’m not that walking bag of hormones that you knew in high school, Buffy. I’ve grown up.”

Buffy looked him up and down. “Some things never change.”

Xander knew what she was doing. She felt like she was being attacked, so she was attacking him back. She probably didn’t believe half the things she was saying, she just wanted to hurt him. As always, she was doing a spectacular job. “Things change all the time. A lot of things changed while you were gone. It was hard, but we kept going. We took care of Dawn, we took care of Sunnydale…and we took care of each other. We did the best we could.”

“But it wasn’t good enough, was it? It was too hard. So you decided to go against nature and destiny and bring me back into this…living hell. Selfish bastards,” she muttered. She turned her back to Xander, looking out the window.

That was it. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Xander snapped. He crossed the room and grabbed Buffy by the arm, spinning her around.

“Stop it! Stop lashing out and listen for a change! This isn’t an easy world to live in, but you’ve got it better than you realize. You’ve got a home, you’ve got your family, your friends. People who love you. Yes, there’s fear, and doubt, and pain. It isn’t heaven, not even close. It’s life, and whatever the reason, you have to live it again. But you’ve got it better than most people, you want to know why? Because you know what’s waiting for you when it’s all over. You know where you’re going to go when you die and you know exactly how wonderful it will be. You made it into heaven once, and you’ll make it there again. That’s a certainty that none of us have. You want to punish us for what we did to you, fine. But don’t punish yourself, don’t punish Dawn. She’s innocent, and she needs her sister in her life!”

“Don’t you see! She doesn’t need me anymore! She has all of you! You’ve all become more important to her than I ever was! She can’t even stand to be in the same room with me anymore, she hates me!”

“She doesn’t hate you, she could never hate you. She’s just worried about you, we all are. Yes, we all became more important to her when you were gone, but that doesn’t make you any less important. She’s trying to understand, she’s trying to be there for you, but you just keep pushing her away. Pushing us all away, just like you’ve always done when things got tough. You have to stop Buffy, you have to let us in. You can’t do this alone.”

Buffy shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. You can’t understand what it’s like for me.”

Xander was still holding Buffy by the arms, he shook her a little. “Damn it, Buffy! We’ve been here with you, practically since day one. We’ve fought everything that you’ve fought, we’ve been through everything that you’ve been through, without the benefit of any special powers. And we’ve done it all because we wanted to. Because you are our friend and we want to help you, and because it was a good fight. Because we can’t stand by and do nothing in the face of evil anymore than you can. When you ran away, we kept fighting. When you died, we kept fighting. And even now, as you push us away, we keep fighting. With no promise of heaven, or of anything for that matter, we keep fighting. So tell me, what is it exactly that I don’t understand?”

Buffy didn’t answer. She pushed Xander’s hands away violently and turned her back on him again. “I’m the slayer. At the end of the day, it’s my responsibility and mine alone,” she said, her thoughts turning to her encounter with the First Slayer. “I have to face this alone, it’s part of what I am.”

Xander shook his head. “Bullshit! This isn’t about you being the slayer, it’s about the same thing it’s always been about. You’re just too stubborn and pig-headed to admit that you need help, that you’re not perfect. You’re acting like a child!”

Xander saw it coming. He saw her body tense. He heard her cry out in anger. He saw her arm coming up as she spun around, and he saw her fist heading straight for him. But he didn’t move. He took the punch square in the jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor. When he looked up at her, he could see the surprised look on her face as she looked down at her own fist, like she couldn’t believe what she had done. His expression held no surprise at all. He knew about Buffy’s tendency to lash out, and he knew that the more the argument escalated, it was only a matter of time before she did so physically. His own anger was gone, it had burned out. He just looked…defeated. Yet another attempt to get through to her had failed. He moved his jaw back and forth, testing it to make sure it wasn’t broken. It wasn’t. Touching his fingers to his mouth, he pulled them back and saw blood on them. He had a split lip, and his head was throbbing a little, but thankfully he still had all of his teeth, and he was pretty sure that he didn’t have a concussion. He picked himself up off the floor and brushed himself off.

“Tonight, an hour before sunset, at the Magic Box,” he said. “We still have to figure out what we’re going to do. You should probably be there.”

Buffy could hear the defeat in his voice, but even more disturbing to her than that, was the acceptance of that defeat that he seemed to express. Like he was used to it. He waited a few more seconds for Buffy to respond. When she didn’t, he turned around and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him. Buffy stared at the door for a few seconds before she felt the tears. She sank to the bed and let them come.

*

Xander came down the stairs slowly, his hand tentatively touching his lip. Dawn came around the corner from the living room when she heard his footsteps.

“How did it…” she paused when she saw Xander’s bleeding lip. “Go?”

“About as well as I expected,” Xander answered. He noticed Dawn’s dejected expression. “Hey, Dawnie, it’ll be okay,” he said, holding his arms out. Dawn stepped into the hug and laid her head on his chest. “It’s just going to take some time. Your sister’s been through a lot.”

“That doesn’t give her the right to hit you,” Dawn said. “That doesn’t give her the right to…” she trailed off, a tear in her voice.

“To ignore you,” Xander finished. Dawn just nodded against his chest. “I know Dawnie, I know. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“I wish I was as confident as you were.”

‘I wish I was as confident as I’m pretending to be too,’ Xander thought idly to himself. He looked up and saw Tara come in from the kitchen. He broke the hug and looked down at Dawn, pushing a lock of hair away from her face. He gave her a smile and she smiled back. He looked back up. “There’s a Scooby meeting at the Magic Box tonight, an hour before sunset. You both should be there.” He paused. “We have a lot to talk about.” They both nodded. “I have to go, I’ll see you tonight,” he said, heading for the door.

Dawn watched him go, wondering how confident he really was. She wrapped her arms around herself. She was scared.

*

Buffy watched as Xander pulled away from her bedroom window, tears sliding down her cheeks. She reached out and touched the glass as she watched the car disappear down the street. “Dear god,” she sobbed. “What have I done?”




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