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The voices barely penetrate my brain, but I slowly push aside the heavy curtain of sleep in attempt to make sense of the world.



A door scrapes against tile as it is forced open. I open my eyes a slit, and light from the outer world streams inside. Is it already daylight? I decide that I can’t tell.



Footsteps move in the vicinity of where I lay.



A female voice resonates, “You sure she’s in here, Angel?”



Willow. . . that’s Willow.



No one responds to her query.



Another voice. . . distinctly British. . . intones next, “The dreams of Spike are getting stronger?”



“Yeah,” Willow confirms Giles’s words. “They are. She’s going out every night now. She’s been having prophetic dreams about him. . . she thinks. That’s why I started sleeping in the same room with her. They were scaring Dawnie.”



I hear a noise closer to me than the two talking, but I dismiss it. My hand tightens around an object in my palm. I’ve forgotten what it is, but I know it’s important.



“I’m worried about her, Giles,” Willow continues, and for the first time, I notice the flashlight beams panning around. “She goes out and fights these battles and comes home all bruised and bloody and won’t explain what happened except to say that she’s certain Spike was there fighting with her.”



I remember that Giles has been out of the country. He was supposed to get in tomorrow. Or is today tomorrow? My legs draw up involuntarily.



Giles is thoughtful, “I’m not sure what could be causing such vivid. . . for lack of a better term. . . hallucinations. I know she had strong feelings for him, but. . .”



“Maybe she finally snapped. The weight of all the loss and pain. . . maybe it fell on her shoulders when she didn’t have to bear the burden of being the only Chosen One. You know. . . it’s kind of like when she went into herself when she lost Dawn to Glory that time. Maybe she. . . .”



Giles interrupts her, and he sounds as if he’s trying to convince himself of an explanation for my behavior, “She finds safety in the oblivion that she lets herself slip into. I’ve been there myself. . . when I lost. . . someone I love, and I think she’ll snap out of it eventually. She’s grieving.”



Willow and Giles are desperate. They don’t understand that Spike is *alive.*



With each dream. . . with each battle, I almost reach my destination. . . almost grasp his. . .



A hand grasps my calf, and I jolt up with a sharp intake of air, eyes wide.



The owner of the hand has a grim face. “Buffy. Are you okay?”



I open my mouth to let Angel know that I’m fine, but no sound comes out.





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