SEPTEMBER 21, 2022
Dawn was suddenly grateful that Georgina had agreed to take care of Jonina for the night because she didn't think she would be able to explain this to her. The wail was as inhuman as anything on the Hellmouth.
They were all huddled outside the small bedroom of the idyllic New England home. He had brought the tiny family here when she had taken ill, to take care of her.
It was as far from the Hellmouth as he could get her.
The look in Willow's eyes as she reacted to the sounds of grief emanating from the room were nothing compared to the void that Dawn knew awaited her when, and if, she was brave enough to go into that room. Willow wanted to do what she could to comfort him, and started to make her way to the doorway when Dawn stepped in her way, "Willow, I'm not sure that's a good idea right now," she said, as she listened to the slowly rising tide of grief, "You never know what he could say or do," she nodded begging her to understand, "He may still blame you."
"I know," Willow sobbed, "And, I don't care. I deserve it."
The sound that Dawn heard coming from the room now was a sound she hadn't heard in twenty years, and it chilled her to the bone. That sound meant only one thing. It was over. Her sister was dead.
Dawn tried to close her ears to the sound and focus on Willow. It wasn't much, but she would take any port in the storm of grief that she was sure awaited her once she went into that room.
She didn't want to go into that room. She would have done anything to stay out of the Hell that was in that room. She couldn't bear seeing that vacant look in his eyes again. He had put all his hopes in her and now with her gone she wondered if he would be able to pull himself out, or if he would let himself drown again.
Dawn walked slowly into the darkened room. The haze of sorrow that hung in the air made it difficult to see, though she could make out the outline of Spike as he hovered near the head of the bed, "Spike, is there anything I can do?"
His voice was a strangled whisper, "Nothing to be done, Bit," the vortex of pain and grief that rose up to meet her nearly made her gasp, "She's dead. There's nothing left."
The pain she felt riveted her to the spot. It took all her effort to make the muscles of her throat work so that her voice could be heard over the lump of sadness that had settled in the pit of her stomach, "Yes, there is, Spike," her voice wavered, "There's you. There's me, and there's Joni."
His eyes narrowed, as if her name was painful to him, "Joni?" his eyes widened in recognition, "Joni? Where is she, Bit?" he stood up abruptly, his voice shaken, "Bit, tell me she didn't hear that. I didn't...oh God," his head was shaking in disbelief, his eyes beseeching her to understand, "Bit, I didn't mean for her to hear," Spike had crossed the little room with surprising speed, grasping Dawn's shoulders in a desperate embrace, "Tell me she didn't hear that. I couldn't do that to her."
Dawn could see that the idea of keeping Jonina insulated from her mother's death was the only thing that was keeping him tethered to this reality, "No, Spike, she didn't hear that," she said softly, "Joni's safe," at his questioning, frenzied look she finished with, "She's with George," she nodded, "Understand? She'll be back in the morning."
He looked back at the window, his voice seeming to come from very far away, "It's dark. She hates the dark. She needs a night light."
Dawn couldn't be sure he was talking about Joni, "She'll be all right," Dawn cooed, as she led Spike slowly out of the room, "She's your daughter. She'll be all right."
For the first time since she knew him, Spike truly felt like dead weight in her arms as she guided him out into the small hallway. Buffy really did seem to be his life force. And now that she was gone, Dawn didn't know if he'd ever be the same again.
As they reached the threshold Willow stepped into their path. Dawn silently prayed that she would just keep her mouth shut and leave him alone. She hoped that Willow would know enough about Spike by now to just let him pick up the pieces at his own pace. Once he could put the pieces back, in some kind of order, then he'd approach her. Willow just needed to give Spike time to lick his wounds. She just needed to back off. But, Dawn knew, in her heart, that this was something Willow still needed to learn.
"Spike, I'm so sorry," she sobbed, "I never, never thought that this would happen," the tears were flowing down her face, "I'm so sorry. If there's anything I can do..."
Dawn winced as the demon he seldom let come to the fore revealed itself, as if it were protecting the injured part of itself from a threat, "Why is the witch weeping?" he growled, "Your job is finally done. She finally succumbed," his head tilted in grim contemplation of the instrument of his destruction. Amber eyes swam as they stared at her, "I admire your prowess, witch," he spat, "I've known the lifeblood of two Slayers," his throat and lips quivered. It was a thing that Dawn didn't think she'd ever see. A demon in the throes of sorrow, "And shared the life of one. But you," he pointed a shaking finger at her, "you've taken the lives of hundreds! How does it feel, witch, to have your hands drenched in their blood?"
Willow shrank under his fiery glare, "Spike, please. I want to help."
His jaw twitched, "You wish to help me, do you, witch?"
She nodded.
Spike placed his hand in the center of his chest and nodded, "You want to help me, Red?" his face fixed itself into a mask of agony, "Find a stake and do it, Red. It's hollow."
Willow shook her head in horror at what he was asking, "No!" she gasped, "What about Joni?"
"Please, Red, I'm empty without her. You've already killed me. Just finish the job," he choked down a sob as he begged for release from torment, "Please?"
Willow was stunned into silence as Dawn gently guided him past her, "Come on, Spike," she whispered, "You don't know what you're saying. Let's get some rest."
*******************
MAY 19, 2003
"I don't mind telling you I don't like it, Slayer. It's just too risky. Red seems in control, I know, but something like this could cause ripples for eons. I don't like it. There's only supposed to be one Slayer. And, that's you."
Buffy couldn't read his face because of the shadows that played in the room. She couldn't tell if he was saying this because he doubted her, or Willow, or the both of them. Or, he could be saying this because he didn't want to see her hurt, or worse, "Don't think I can do it, Spike? Why didn't you say something in front of the others?"
He rolled his eyes and threw his head back in frustration, "And create dissention in the ranks?" Spike shook his head, "No thanks. You've got Rona for that. It's a good plan, Slayer. It'll work," he lowered his eyes, "I just don't want it to. I've got a bad feeling. And, I don't want to risk you," he turned the amulet over in his hand, "This little bauble could do the job, Love, with no risk to you or the little girls."
Buffy stepped closer to the cot, "No, Spike. I don't know what that thing could do," she swallowed to loosen the knot in her throat, "It could kill you, Spike."
Spike smirked, "Thanks for the concern, Slayer. But in case you've forgotten, I'm dead already."
"That's not what I mean, Spike. And I think you know that."
"I know," Spike said, "But I need to do this. I made a promise."
"Ditto," Buffy said.
***********************
MAY 20 2003
Willow felt the power of the spell surging through her. Somehow she felt time vibrate and shatter; the shards escaped her grasp before she could gain control of them.
Too late, the reality of what was happening below her, to Spike, was opened to her. Too late, Willow knew that she'd made a grave mistake, "Oh my Goddess," she gasped.
**********************************
APRIL 21, 2005
Even though, unlike Angel, Spike knew better than to take what Holland said at face value, all this talk of death, her death, was bringing him closer to his Grandsire's temperament. He knew he could trust one thing, and one thing only, to bring him out of the quicksand he was in danger of sinking down into. He trusted his eyes.
He rushed through the door of the dojo; saw Buffy standing there, alive. She was all lit up with an inner light that made her glow with the soft pink light of life around her. It was so beautiful he just had to be part of it. He crossed the distance between them with large, confident strides and he swept her up in his wake and carried her to their upstairs apartment.
Caught of guard by his impulsive actions, Buffy whooped in surprise, "Spike, what are you doing?"
He kissed her, and said, with a devilish smirk, "If I need to draw up a schematic, Love, I'm doing it wrong."
"Oh," she giggled.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
For those of you who read the last chapter before I edited it, Angel's last conversation with Holland occured on October 28, 2004. Now that I've cleared that up, *or not* please review this chapter. ;-)