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"Sweetie, can you hear me?"

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, Sweetie it's me. You okay?"

Buffy moaned, "My head hurts. Kind of dizzy," she ran her tongue along her lips, "Thirsty too. It's hot."

"Hang on Buffy. Help's coming."

"Why are you here Mommy? I miss you."

"I know. I'm always with you, Sweetheart. I'm here because I knew you would need someone with you until he came."

Buffy let out a weak sigh and slipped into the comfort of unconsciousness.
******************************************

Angel was grateful that he didn't need to breathe because the pressure Spike had applied to his throat would have crushed the life out of him. He almost wished he had been crushed. By the look in Spike's eyes Angel knew there was nothing he could say that would keep him from following through on his threat. Angel winced at the heat of Spike's aureolin gaze as he towered over him. When Spike had grown that tall Angel wasn't sure, but he did not think it was a good time to be asking questions. Answers were what Spike wanted. And, although he had to admit he had more questions than answers himself, answers were what he would provide.

"I'm breathless with anticipation, Angel. Talk."

"I don't know much. All I know is what Holland tells me. And, he doesn't tell me much."

Spike's voice rumbled, "Well then, that puts you one step up from me," Spike's tongue grazed the tip of his fangs, "I think it's best for all concerned if you bring the White Hats up to speed. And, do it fast or I might forget myself."

Angel avoided the heat of Spike's eyes, "All Holland will tell me is that everything that happened last year was because of me."

"Well we already knew that, didn't we?" Spike yanked Angel to his feet by his shirt collar and shoved him, soundly, against the wall, "Tell me something new, oh wise and brooding one. I'll give you a hint. Who's Holland?"
***************

Buffy tried to center herself. She knew that showing any kind of weakness would just play into Drusilla's plans, whatever those were. So she was a little thirsty, so what? She was a Slayer. She was the Slayer. She had fought hundreds of demons without breaking a sweat. She wasn't going to let a crazy vampire take her down like this. She was scared, yes. She would be foolish not to be. Drusilla held all the cards right now. But, Buffy also knew that there was a wildcard in the deck. Drusilla might know Spike, but there was one factor about him that Buffy bet Drusilla had failed to factor in. And that was that Spike had gone to Hell and back again to be with her.

There wasn't much that Dru could say, or do to her that would convince her that Spike couldn't, or didn't love her as much as he said he did. She only wished that she'd had this epiphany sooner. Maybe if she had, they could have avoided this whole mess.

Buffy summoned up all the courage she could and moistened her dry lips to speak, "Drusilla, time to come out of the shadows, don't you think?" her voice was stronger than she thought it would be. That was good because it meant she could, maybe, bluff Drusilla a little longer, "Really Dru, this isn't like you. You're not a coward. You're proud of what you do. You're proud of who you are. Come out where I can see you, and then we can talk this out. I just want to see whom it is I'm talking to," she tried to breathe and was greeted by stabbing pain. Drusilla must have wreaked havoc with her ribcage while she was passed out.

"Damn Drusilla," Buffy moaned, "You did a bang up job on my ribs, that's for sure. But you did it while I was asleep. That doesn't project power that projects fear. What's the matter, Dru, is the heat getting to you? Or is it something else? Could it be that something in that crazy head of yours knows that this is wrong? Could it be that you know that this is not the way to get your way? I mean, if you want to kill me, there are quicker, easier ways to..." Buffy noticed that her skin felt sticky and her stomach felt woozy, like she was going to vomit. She was almost certain that the fuzziness she felt climbing up her limbs was due to blood loss. Her courage was slipping. She had trouble holding a thought in her head, and suddenly her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth, making it hard to speak. What was it she was saying? When had she turned into a three-year-old? She couldn't remember the words.

She was dangling on the tightrope of consciousness again. On the edges of her vision, she could see Drusilla coming toward her, ready to push her over.

"That's it, child," Drusilla said, "you sleep. You'll need your rest for when William gets here."
**********************

Suddenly Spike felt his stomach lurch. He had to admit, that was a new sensation, because as a rule, vampires didn't feel the need to vomit. Still and all, there it was. And he felt as if he'd been ensanguined with Buffy's blood.

He dropped Angel in disgust, "Are you telling me that all of this, everything that happened, was just a test to see how the Powers' little pet vampire would perform?" Spike choked on the bile rising in his throat, "And that Buffy, Drusilla and I, even poor little Fred, are just pawns on a chessboard?" Angel started to answer, but the homicidal glint in Spike's eyes made him stop, "And that the man who has Buffy now, this Holland of yours, he ran the Los Angeles office of Wolfram and Hart until you locked him in a wine cellar with Darla and Dru, and rang the dinner bell?" As the picture became clearer, Spike felt more and more ill. It was as if hearing this had drained all the blood out of him, "And now Holland, who got a big promotion, to CEO of Hell, took on a new assignment?"

Angel nodded.

"And how does Dru fit into this?"
**********************************************

Buffy couldn't remember being this thirsty. Right now, she would have given anything for a little sip of water. Any thought bigger than that, her brain was too muddled to slog through.

"Sweetie," Joyce said, "Just hold on a little longer," her voice held a tinge of worry, "And, Buffy, no matter how tired and thirsty you get, don't drink anything Drusilla has to offer. Don't do anything she asks. Just hold on until Spike can get to you."

Through the haze that had become her existence now, she thought she heard her mother's voice calling. Her Mommy was trying to tell her something, something important. But she couldn't remember what that thing was. Why couldn't she remember? How long had she been here? She was tired and cold and her head was so heavy. She could have been here for hours, or was it days? She didn't remember.

Her Mommy kept telling her to hang on until he got here. She would do that, but she couldn't remember who he was. And she was so tired.

"Is he coming, Mommy? I can't remember." In her head the words rang loud and strong, but outside her own inner sanctum, she had lost her power of speech to the rivers of blood that had long since coated the concrete floor beneath her.

"He's coming, Sweetheart. Just hang on."
***************************

Spike's head was spinning. The horror of what Angelus had said was still palpable.

A choice that really wasn't a choice. It was made for him, the minute he'd watched Buffy slip into the night with that undertaker who called himself a lawyer. It was an easy choice.

Now all that was left was the goodbye.

He held Dawn as she cried against his shoulder, "But, it's awful, Spike. It's just awful," she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, "I just got you back, Spike. I can't lose you again."

"I can't let you lose Big Sis either, Bit," he gave her a small smile, tussling her hair a little, "You'll get over the tears," he swallowed the lump in his throat, "Before long, you won't even miss me," he choked.

"But I will miss you, Spike. I will," Dawn sobbed.

"Me too you, Bit," he tipped her chin up so that he could see her eyes. He saw the grief on his own face in the reflection in her eyes, "I could always see myself in your eyes; Buffy's too. In case I don't tell you later," his eyes went down, "or in case I can't, I love you Dawn. I really love you."

The use of her given name made her chin quiver with sadness, "I love you too, Spike. Never forget that."

"Are you daft? I could never, I would never forget that. It's hard-wired into this old noggin of mine."

The emotions in the room were making Illyria ill. The insanity that the vampire was suggesting was unacceptable to her. There was another way out of this quagmire. She had offered it, almost demanded that the vampire do as she required.

"Further discussion is pointless," Illyria announced, "The solution is obvious. It's so simple even a mind as miniscule as yours is, vampire, should grasp it. I go in your place."

His eyes bore into hers, "Thanks for your ringing endorsement, Highness. I've made the decision. You are not going anywhere. I am," he looked down at Dawn again, "Someone has to look after my Bit. In case Angelus comes away with the spoils. He's not nearly the people person I am. It could get ugly. And in case Buffy doesn't..." he stopped when he saw the fright in Dawn's eyes, and nearly bit through his tongue for even mentioning the possibility. He smiled, trying to reassure her, "But that won't happen, Bit. I promise. I won't let it."

Spike picked up the stake and the holy water just as the car pulled up outside his flat, "Well, off I go then," he turned and gave Dawn one last smile, "Wish me luck?"

"Good luck," dawn said as Spike slipped out the door.

He stepped with determination to the waiting car and ducked in without a word, "Let's do this thing, Holland. Buffy doesn't have all night. Once I've seen her and know she's all right, you can have what you came for."

As the door closed, Spike did something he hadn't done since he was turned. He prayed.





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