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Chapter One - Frustrated, Helpless and Alone

“Explain it to me again.”

Giles did not want to dwell on this subject. Buffy was not the type of girl to understand when to cut her losses.

“There’s nothing new to. . . .", he began with a long suffering sigh.

“Go though it again.” Buffy ground out slowly.

He could tell this wasn’t going to be one of her reasonable days. Giles laughed sadly to himself. Did she even have reasonable days? Why on Earth couldn’t she grasp the enormity of the situation?

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

Excellent. More inane arguing; this time from the entire lot. How could he expect mere children to understand a concept as painful as the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few. Except, of course, that Anya wasn’t a child. She was a thousand year old ex-vengeance demon who somehow still managed to retain a tremendous amount of idealism. It was time to stop the raging debate. They were running out of time.

“The blood flows, the gates will open. The gates will close when it flows no more. When Dawn is dead.” he interjected. It was quite simple when it came down to it. They would need to stop the ritual before it ever began. Otherwise....well he didn’t want to know how Buffy would react to “otherwise”.

Giles ruminations ended when the sound of Buffy’s voice caught his attention

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

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

“I don't want to hear it!”

“I understand that...”

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

Giles leapt to his feet with the vehemence of his response, “Yes we bloody well are! If Glory begins the ritual... If we can't stop her ...”

“Say it. Come on, we're bloody well talking about this, tell me to kill my sister!”

“She's not your sister.” Giles quietly reminded her.

“No. She's not. She's more than that.....more than family... my sister, my daughter...” Buffy was desperate to explain a relationship she barely understood.

Trying to diffuse the tension in the room Xander quipped, “She's your sister and your daughter?” Badump-bump. He looked around for the appreciation of his fine wit and saw blank stares. Oh come on! How could anyone not get the Chinatown reference?! Times like these he really missed Oz.

Buffy seemed to finally pin down her thoughts, “She's me. The Monks made her out of me. I hold her and I feel closer to her than... It's more than just the memories they built, it's physical, it's... Dawn is a part of me. The only part that I...” At that she lost her momentum and dwindled into silence.

There was no hiding from the fact that it was going to be a difficult night.

~’~,~’~,~’~,~’~,~’~,~’~,~

“Weapons in the chest by the TV. I'll grab the stuff upstairs –“

Buffy was halfway up the stairs before she noticed Spike still hovering on the landing.

“Uh, Buffy ... “

She’d forgotten that he couldn’t come in anymore. How could she have forgotten that? How could she have forgotten how dangerous he could be, especially with his new obsession. She shuddered as she remembered the feeling of chains around her wrists.

Spike saw the shudder, “If you wanna just hand them over the threshold…” Last thing he wanted was to remind her of the night he made his boneheaded declaration of love. She seemed to have started to trust him again and he didn’t want to lose any ground he may have gained. He couldn’t bear returning to the crypt alone again. Even the derision of the Scoobies was better than the empty, silently mocking crypt.

The sheepish expression on Spike’s face made the decision for her, “Come in, Spike.”

“Presto. No barrier.” The flippancy of the comment belied how much Buffy’s invitation affected Spike, made him feel close to her. Moving towards the weapons chest he cleared his throat before he commented loudly, “Won't bother with the small stuff. Couple of good axes should hold off Glory's mates while you take on the lady herself.”

“We're not all gonna make it. You know that.”

He was surprised to hear her reply. He’d thought she’d gone upstairs and he was talking to himself. She was right. There was no way everyone would make it through the coming battle. No matter what he had to do she and the bit would be alright, though. Odds were against his survival but he didn’t mind as long as his girls were safe. He walked back to the stairs slowly so he could school his features before facing her.

“Yeah. Hey, I always knew I'd go down fighting. Sure as hell never thought it'd be on this side...or for this reason...” he looked up at her and was again surprised. This time by the open look on Buffy’s face. She rarely allowed him to see anything but aloof disdain.

“I'm counting on you, Spike. To help protect her.”

Spike’s feelings overwhelmed him to the point of almost choking him, if he could choke that is. He returned Buffy’s earnest expression. “'Til the end of the world -- even if that happens to be tonight. Nobody touches the Little Bit while Spike's around. I promise.”

The earnestness on Spike’s face made Buffy uncomfortable. She turned to continue up the stairs, “I'll just be one minute.”

Spike’s voice startled her before she could go two steps. “I know you'll never love me.”

At least Buffy stopped her retreat long enough to let him continue, “I know that I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man, and that's...” Spike choked up again, seemed like the day for it, “Get your stuff. I'll be here.”

~’~,~’~,~’~,~’~,~’~,~’~,~

Dawn stared down at the ground far, far, far below. Ironic that a sacred spot existed a hundred feet in the air in the middle of nothing; ironic and terrifying. Nothing about it looked sacred.

She was trying to be brave. Trying to do what Buffy would do in this situation.

What a joke. Buffy would break the chains without even having to try and take out the disgusting demons guarding her without breaking a nail. It was so unfair. Dawn was a magical being, a portal that could end the world but she didn’t even have the power to break a chain and punch out a demon with bad skin.

She wished she weren’t so alone in the dark with a dozen scaly disgusting demons. Was this how Buffy felt at night? Dawn doubted it. Buffy was always the center of a crowd that worshipped her. She wasn’t a sniveling coward who couldn’t stop crying. She was powerful and strong. Buffy never felt helpless.

~’~,~’~,~’~,~’~,~’~,~’~,~

Buffy never felt so helpless before in her life.

Spike was distributing the weapons amongst the gang. Xander and Anya were gathering the rest of the equipment from the supply room downstairs. Willow was at the table making final adjustments to their secret weapon. Next to her, Tara was rattling on and on like the madwoman she currently was. Buffy so needed to shrug off the guilty feeling Tara ’s condition provoked. She couldn’t afford the distraction. Not tonight. Hey, if they were really lucky there would be no reason to feel guilt.

She wished this waiting were over. If Tara didn’t get moving soon Buffy thought she might go crazy.

Finally Tara stands and creeps towards the door, stopping only once to call Giles a killer. Buffy leaps to her feet allowing the familiar pre-battle calmness envelope her. “ Willow , stay close but don't crowd her. We'll follow in a minute. Everyone knows their jobs. Remember, the ritual starts, we all die. And I'll kill anyone who comes near Dawn.”

She stares at Giles during the last of the speech.

As he is handing over some of his weaponry to Giles, Spike snarks, “Not exactly the St. Crispin's Day speech, was it?”

Giles smiles cynically, “We few...we happy few...”

He desperately hoped he’d have reason to smile when this was over.





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