Author's Chapter Notes:
An old one-shot I found on my computer, hope you enjoy.
Spike sat on the edge of what had once been home to so many things, so many wonderful, now forgotten things…things and heroes.

He looked up at the sky, each sparkling star igniting memories burned into his sought-out soul. Why he kept the amulet all these years he’d never know, maybe simply because she had given it to him. He thought of the cave, of how his soul had turned to scorching light channeled through the amulet, and how it had stung. But not more than her words had.

‘I love you’.

He smiled softly at the memory and rubbed the palm of his hand wistfully. That had been sixty years ago today. Fifty-five years ago he had attended her funeral from a distance, waiting for everyone to drift away in their sorrow so that he could break down and talk to her, forsake the god that had forsaken him. Her second and last gravestone stood proud and tall among the many, ‘She saved the world a lot’. He had winced upon seeing those dreadful words again, as true as they may be he had never wanted to see them again for the rest of his un-life. They symbolized a world without her in it, a world he wanted no part of.

Why had he not sought her out once corporeal he didn’t know, didn’t care to ask himself questions he had no answers to. Instead he tortured himself nightly, saving her every time in his dreams.

A package had arrived at his plain apartment a few weeks after she had passed, along with it a letter from his niblet.

‘Spike,

Buffy never told me much about what happened in the school basement that day, and I didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to know the details of how you’d died with me never having told you that I had forgiven you, that I love you. What she did tell me was that she loved you, and that love was alive in her until the day she died. She never knew you were back, but I did. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for not telling her, though sometimes I wonder if it was for the best. You didn’t go to her, and you had the right not to, though I think her knowing that you were back and just not around would have killed her instead of the last apocalypse she gave her life to stave off. She has died a hero three times now Spike, my sister…the hero. What you may not know is that even heroes have heroes, and you were hers.

She had written me a letter before the big fight, for me to read in case…well, you know. She wanted a funeral and a tombstone, a proper burial, but it was only for show in the end, only to give her friends and family the benefit of closure. I had her cremated, as per her wishes, and she wanted her ashes thrown into the chasm that was once Sunnydale to be with yours. I’m sure you can see now why I have sent them to you instead.

I hope one day you’ll come to see me before it’s too late for another Summers girl to prove she loves you.

Dawnie.’


He had wept for days, one hand clutching the letter, the other clutching the remnants of his fallen slayer and then he’d gone to Dawn. He’d had the privilege of watching her live, and grow, and marry, and become a mother, and then a grandmother, and he’d been by her side with her family when she had closed her beautiful but tired eyes for the last time.

A laugh bubbled up in his chest when out of nowhere he remembered the ridiculous hat Buffy had adorned while working at the Double Meat Palace. It had been small memories like that that had kept him going as long as he had, fighting the good fight. But he was exhausted now, achingly so.

He inhaled deeply and smirked, the sun would be up shortly, he could smell it in the air. Lighting a smoke he closed his eyes, enjoying the rich taste of it.

Everyone he loved was dead, like him, only not…thankfully.

‘Been called a lot of things in my time slayer,’ he said, voice filled with awe when her tiny hand placed the gaudy but oh-so-meaningful trinket in his almost shaking hand.

That was his favorite memory with her. It wasn’t the passionate but hate filled sex, or the forced (or so he’d thought) I love you, it was being told he was a champion by the girl who’d once thought him nothing but a monster.

There was a breeze building up and he sighed into it, letting it wrap around him as the sky started to lighten.

His hands were steady as he opened the urn and clutched it to his chest, legs still dangling over the crater, acceptance and a touch of his old eagerness coming to the surface.

He pressed his lips gently to her vessel and chuckled, “Time to see how this really ends kitten’ he whispered to her while watching the streaks of pink and orange getting brighter.

His bones were screaming at him to run, to hide, but his heart was singing to stay, to look at how beautiful this moment was: sharing a summer sunrise with the only girl he’d ever really loved. A summer sunrise with his Summers.

He had, and would always be, loves bitch though, and so his weary bones lost the fight with his heart as his body turned to ash, the breeze swirling her now fallen ashes up to him, up to where she’d wanted them all along.

Two enemies, two reluctant friends, two champions, two lovers in their own right - even if they’d done it wrong, so terribly wrong.


As the breeze caught their ashes, combining them and lifting them high into the sunny skies a tacky amulet that had somehow been left behind began to glow.


***

“You’ve done enough, you can still…”

He knew this line, knew the next words out of his mouth were supposed to be tragic and brave, but for the un-life of him he couldn’t repeat them. She was looking at him with such feeling, such pride and fear that he couldn’t do it again.
“get out of here, still be with me,” she finished, something he hadn’t let her do the first time around.

His hand came up to tear the amulet from his neck when suddenly her hand was over his, holding it, flames starting to lick through his skin and onto hers. She never let go though, not his slayer.

“I love you,” her green eyes wide and shining, her tiny hand yanking his down, freeing him from the inevitable dusting that would have come.

They were about to run when he stopped suddenly, giving Buffy time to search for a makeshift blanket while the heel of his scuffed but well-loved boot smashed the amulet to pieces.

One last chance was all they needed to see how this would really end.





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