Author's Chapter Notes:
This is my first posted fic! I hope you all enjoy!
A/N: Hi all. So here’s my first posted fic. Takes place starting the summer between Seasons 5 and 6, I think happened, then once we get into Season 6…well, you’ll just have to see where I go! We are following Spike, and seeing how he handles Buffy’s passing, and what he does to mourn her. Enjoy!


While You Were Sleeping


Chapter One


Day One - Twelve.


For the first week after she was properly laid to rest, he just sat there. Every night when he heard the sun hiss below the horizon he began his trek to be with her; and didn’t leave until he could smell the sunrise approaching on the stars. He didn’t want her to be alone. So he sat with her, quietly, letting his mind wander to a time less depressing. To a time she was not buried below his feet, and to time where he let it happen.

Though his mind was always racing, he did not utter a single word of his thoughts. He knew it was customary to speak to the departed as one sits at their grave, but he refused to think of her as departed; as gone from this world and on to the next. So he did not speak to her. Words would only make the pain deepen.

Whenever he spoke to her before the battle, she was so full of life with her responses, whether she was yelling at him in the heat of a fight, or just scoffing a comment under her breath when she felt it necessary to add in her two cents. She would always have a witty retort to throw back at him, and he couldn’t remember the last one he’d heard pass through her lips. The last he’d ever hear - but he didn’t know that at the time. He missed he voice. So no, he would not speak to her. Because he knew he’d get no response. That would only further the notion that she was really, truly, gone.

He would stare at the stone in front of him, with her name imprinted upon it. A name that he, and so many others around the world, acquainted with strength, skill and power. A name that so many feared, and for good reason. A name that no longer needed to be feared, just remembered, and loved, and cherished. Three things, among many others, that he would do for the rest of unnaturally long existence. An existence that if it were his decision would have ended the very sunrise after she had jumped.

One job. She had given him one, single, job in the battle that happen a mere twelve days ago. A job that he couldn’t do. He was told after words, he did what he could, but that did not bring her back. That did not take away any of the pain. That did not mean he failed any less. He had failed. Her, he had failed her. Her last memories of him, were knowing that he could not accomplish the one task she’d given him. He failed her.

Even so, he had heard through her sister, that last piece of her he had left in this world, what she had wanted, what her last words were. For her sister to live, for her. That’s why. That is why he did not do all her could to end his life along with her, because if he couldn’t do his one job when asked, he would surely make it the sole purpose of his existence now. Because she wanted her to live.

He would protect her.

***

Day Fourteen.


It was summertime on the hellmouth. A time when most teenagers were gallivanting around town day and night because they had nothing better to do. But the only one Spike care about was not.

Spike did his now daily routine when he’d woke today. It had been fourteen days since Buffy had jumped from Glory’s tower and nine days since she was buried in his very cemetery. In those nine days the only person he had interacted with was Dawn. He checked on her today, like everyday. If she was crying while he was there, he held her. If she was sleeping, he just watched her. If he heard her stomach growling, he made sure she had a good meal. He was there for her. To protect her.

While at the Summers household, he all but ignored the new residence of Joyce’s room. He’d like the witches sure, but he did not want to see anyone other than Dawn. She was his priority. Whether she knew it or not, she was all he had now, she was the only thing keeping him in this world.

So like every other day Spike took the familiar route through the sewers to see Dawn during the day and returned in the afternoon to his crypt, to wait for nightfall, went he left to be with Buffy.

***

Today was the day – or night for that matter. Spike decided as he was walking to the place she lay sleeping he would talk to her. Whether all he could muster was an ‘I’m sorry,’ he was going to speak to her.

Spike sat on the ground just to the left of the tombstone, where he sat every night since she’d been gone. He didn’t want to sit directly in front of the tomb. Then he would be sitting on top of her. Spike knew he wouldn’t actually be squishing her, but he felt as if he was invading her space, it was just improper.

Sitting there, Spike didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he could say anything at all. Over the past two weeks Spike had barely talked anyways. Only to Dawn, and only a few words at best each day. Then only once to Giles when he told Spike the funeral was going to be held at night. And they he’d only said ‘thank you.’ Nothing else.

He sat there for so long, like always, staring. ‘Buffy Anne Summers – Beloved sister. Devoted friend. She saved to world a lot.’ Many times he thought the grave should have so much more about her. Buffy was…she protected all those she loved, those she didn’t even like, even those people she didn’t know. The tomb should have talked about her heart, her soul. They were both so beautiful, so great. And her strength. Buffy was the strongest slayer Spike had ever encountered. No. She was the strongest person he’d ever known.

There was so much else to say about her. But throughout all his thinking, Spike came full circle. That last phrase, ‘she saved the world a lot,’ said everything. She did save the world. Numerous times she did. Buffy lived for saving the world, helping the world carry on. That’s what she did.

“You always saved the world.”

Spike didn’t even realize he’d spoken the words aloud. He had to go back over the last few moments to see if he really did. He spoke to her.

Even if it wasn’t what he was really meaning to accomplish, Spike felt that was all he needed to say. He spent the rest of the evening in his usual haze of thoughts.

***

Walking home just before dawn, Spike was still thinking of what he’d spoken to Buffy. With each step towards his crypt, he just got filled with more anger. He was angry with himself for not saving her of course, but also angry at the world, at the Powers, or whatever controlled fate that allowed her to die. Spike slammed open the door to his crypt and kicked it shut, walking straight to the fridge and grabbing the liquor bottle that was standing atop it. He took a long swig of the liquid and swallowed down every drop, finishing by hurling the bottle against the far wall of the crypt.

“She saved the bloody world!” Spike growled out to no one, and anyone who was listening. “And you all just let her die?” While screaming to the walls Spike began to rampage the area of his crypt. Grabbing, throwing, and tearing apart anything he could get his hands on. “She’s your bloody protector of everything good and sodding pure on this earth. She’s the best Slayer there’s ever been, and you couldn’t give her any other way to save the planet but to die? She was practically the goddamn savior to the people!”

Spike’s rage was dissipating into anguish and heaving tears began to fall from his eyes, as his words were falling out in sobs. “She’s everything. She deserves to be here more than anyone. To live for herself, to see the Bit grow up. To love with her whole heart. She should be here. I don’t wanna bloody live without her here.”

Spike collapsed with all the broken shards that were the remnants of his home, and wept.



Please review and let me know what you think! More will come soon.





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