Prologue
The amulet had burned most of the Turok-Han to ash, clearing the cavern for the new Slayers. The girls who had survived, were led by Faith up the dusty sandstone steps, running for the rendezvous point outside the school.
Buffy was running to her former lover, her current more-than-friends friend, her heart burning as it sped up--she knew that not even in all his strength that Spike could survive that shaft of light the amulet was running through his body. Part of her wished that she'd never gotten the damn thing from Angel; part of her knew that for Spike, this was the redemption that he so seriously needed. Some crazy other part of her thought that maybe if she could tear it off of him, she could drag his sorry ass up the stairs and away to safety.
All of that came to her in just a few seconds.
Precious seconds she knew she's never get back, for when she stood in front of him, blood seeping out of the wound in her belly, scrapes here,there, and all over her body, she saw his face and she knew.
Spike was going to die.
And he was calm about it.
Reverently calm about it.
Her hand clasped his and her breath shook out of her lungs. He was cold and hot all at the same time, even with the fire pouring out onto her. Their hands ignited into a bright orange flame, symbolizing the mighty flame that surrounds the phoenix as it dies and then is born anew. But he wasn't coming back from this one.
He smiled down at her, and something changed. Suddenly she felt it now, all the love he had wanted to give her, all in that moment, came rushing at her like a Mac truck. "I can feel it, Buffy."
Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving streaks in the dirt, "What?"
Spike looked wistfully across the cavern, "My soul. It's really there. Kind of stings." He looked at her then, not through her, "Go on then."
She thought to herself, he is not going to die alone, as the vast cave continued to collapse around them. Snagging the amulet, she cursed and pulled her hand back to her mouth as though she was burned. His eyes were clearly filling with tears now, and not from the rictus of pain he was in. "Go, Buffy!"
She wrapped her other hand around his neck and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. Pulling away,she turned his head down to look at her. "I love you, William." With those magic words, just as quick as she had ruined him the year before, it all came back to him.
He whispered,"I know, Slayer. You always have, you're just too daft to pay attention."
Her other hand rested on his cheek for just one moment, and pulled the other to run away, and realized that was stuck. She was going nowhere, as if they were fused together at the hands. Panic filled her then, "I don't want to die again, Spike!" Her chest heaved as she sobbed, "Dawnie...." Her sister was going to be alone again.
He pulled her close as they both cried. "It'll be alright, Buffy. We'll just relax for a little...." He lost his voice and closed his eyes, choking back all the frustration at the situation. The burning was starting to take them over, consuming them.
She was screaming then, and he held her tighter. "Don't leave me Spike! I don't want to be alone!"
The only thing he could think of was what pain she must have been feeling right then. She looked up and he looked down; he then kissed her and the fire took them both.
Chapter One: Pain
The patch was rubbing on his area around the socket, driving him nuts. Of course it could have been the moisture from the other eye driving him nuts. He wasn’t sure. Wiping his eye, he looked out in the horizon, staring at nothing. In his hand he clutched a photo of Willow, Buffy, and himself. And he was crying like a big girl. He was missing his girls, Buffy and Anya. Groaning, he rose from his perch on a wall, when he heard someone coming.
“Xander?” It was Will.
“I’m coming.”
She reached out for his hand, sweaty and cold, to hold is in her warm, sure one. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
It had been nineteen days since they lost them. Buffy, Anya, the Potentials-turned-slayers, and the Bleached-One-Who-Thought-It’d-Be-Cool-to-Save-the-World. They were all mourning. In fact, today was the service that they scheduled at the mouth of Hell, for their loved ones and friends. And the sad thing? At all of Buffy’s funerals, only these same people ever came.
That was because others didn’t know. Of the sacrifices. The love. The pain.
But all these people here knew. They knew it as well as they knew how to breathe.
They had lost ones they loved more than anything.
“Shall we begin?” Giles began.
********
They all had decided to meet Angel in the evening of the service at the hotel he owned before they boarded a red eye for London. He couldn’t come to the service, due to the sun allergy, but he wanted to say goodbye to all of them before they left.
Recently, he had taken control of the L.A. branch of Wolfram and Hart, and everyone was wary of that choice. Except for Xander, who had contempt for him anyway.
As he pulled up, he noticed the group standing outside. They all looked so lost. His eyes went immediately to the sister of his former love, leaning against the front door, a ghost of the vibrancy that he remembered. The pain that his soul was tearing up inside was almost too much to bear, but he was stoic, and he would continue to be until he was away from these heroes. So they could go on.
Angel walked up to Dawn, wrapping his arms around her. “Dawn.”
She looked up at his face, the faraway look leaving her for a moment. “Angel, hi.” She felt slack in his arms, almost robotic, like she was in a fog. “We had the service today. It was nice. You should have been there.”
Inwardly, he grimaced. “I’m glad. How are you?”
She pulled back, wiping back a tear from her right eye that had fallen almost without control. “I’m good. We’re going to London.”
His hand went to cup her cheek, “I know. Do you want to come inside for a few minutes before you leave and rest?”
“Sleep is highly overrated.” She giggled a little, before the somber look came back to her. “But if you have something diet to drink I’ll take that.”
“Sure.” He turned to the group and motioned for them to head inside as he unlocked the doors.
Remembering a box he had left in the car, he headed back and grabbed it, following the last of them in. Angel walked over to the counter, setting it there, forgotten as he looked to his guests.
As he headed for the fridge, Giles followed. “Angel. How are things here? Nothing….remarkable happening, I hope?”
The vampire turned around after grabbing the soda. “No, nothing. You seemed to have taken the brunt of the battle. I have my best team working on the possible counter attacks. As far as we know, the majority of the damage stayed in Sunnydale, except for a little incident in Modesto involving a group of Bringers.”
At the sound of their name, Giles looked slightly alarmed in the British way of his. “Did-were there any casualties?”
Angel shook his head, and walked into the lobby. The group was teeming with more energy than they had seemed to have before they came in. People were talking, well, some people were. Xander and Willow sat next to Dawn, who stared at a chair ahead of her. “Dawn. Your drink.”
“Oh hey, thanks Angel.” She held it in her hand a moment, before opening it and taking a small drink.
He turned to the rest of his visitors. “If there’s anything you all need, the fridge is there, the rooms should have working showers in them, and there’s cable. And, if anyone needs to call anyone, the phones will work.”
A brunette girl who was standing behind Willow spoke first. “You’re Angel.”
He nodded. “Sorry, yes. I keep forgetting that I didn’t meet some of you in the hospital. You are?”
Placing a hand mockingly on her chest, she replied. “I’m Kennedy.”
“Welcome Kennedy. Was there something special you needed?”
Willow put her hand on her arm. “Nope, just wondering where the tinglies were coming from, and you confirmed it. Vamp.” The last word she almost spat out.
At once, Angel realized that he was going to be on guard with this one. “Yes?”
The door to the hotel came open and in walked the second of the two Slayers who touched his life. “Hey Kennedy, did you have something to say?” Faith walked in and stared down the other slayer. Kennedy looked taken back a bit. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Good.” She sauntered up to Angel, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him by the ear. “Hey big guy.”
He looked down at her a almost cracked a smile. “Hey.”
She walked over and stood by the trio of mourners, like she was guarding them. Her thumbs were in her belt loops and she was at the ready.
Angel turned back to the box of mail he had brought form the office. Pulling out files Harmony thought he’d need, he rummaged until he came across a bulky manila envelope addressed to him, care of Wolfram and Hart. Watching the group, he tore it open, flipping out onto the floor a familiar little bauble.
Wind roared from it, panicking the crew in front of him. Fire, ashes, and smoke swirled, forming into the silhouette of someone, or something. And then it materialized.
It was…..Spike.
And with a roar from the depths, he announced his resurrection to the world.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This was an idea given to me from my very good friend from LJ, Curiouswombat. Thank you, my friend, this story is dedicated to you. Also, all the chapters titles for this fic are titles or phrases from songs of the artists, Three Days Grace. Thank you also for your inspiration.