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Buffy woke, feeling safe enveloped in strong arms. Her body tingled and ached in a satisfied way, making her smile and stretch slightly against Spike's chest.

It was then that Buffy felt a flood of memories hit her. Her stomach flipped as she realized what had happened. She lay still for a moment, on the verge of tears. She trembled, her arms still clutching him. Finally, she gathered her strength and pushed herself out of his grasp, scrambling in the dark chamber in search of her clothes.

"Pet?"

Buffy didn't look at Spike. "I have to go."

Spike felt pain wash over him with realization. "You remember."

"Everything."

The room as silent as Buffy dressed, her back to him. Once she was fully clothed, she turned around again, looking at Spike. She wished she hadn't. She started to speak, but realized there was nothing she could say. Spike nodded, and Buffy walked away.

*** *** ***

Buffy welcomed the quiet stillness of the empty house she returned to. She knew she should seek out her friends, let them know she was herself again, but she couldn't bring herself to face them now. Instead, she sat on the far corner of the couch, her knees pulled up to her chin.

She felt any progress she'd made towards accepting the fact she was alive again slipping away, leaving her empty inside again.

Buffy remembered the past few days with Spike, and she let the tears fall. She wished now she'd listened to him, believed him when he'd said they couldn't be together, but the obstacles standing between them were more than a fifteen year old version of herself could ever imagine. She'd tried loving a vampire before, and it had only ended with death and tears. She couldn't do it again, couldn't sacrifice her duties as the Slayer for desire.

She leaned down, her face resting between her knees. She wanted it all to be over, wanted to be at peace. She had fulfilled her duties as Slayer, gone above and beyond her Calling, and now she was back, forced to deal with the struggle all over again. It was worse now than it had been before, knowing where she could be instead, knowing what she'd lost.

She'd told Spike when she'd first come back that this was Hell, and that felt truer to her now more than ever. In his arms she'd found something almost as good as Heaven, but it, too, had been cruelly ripped from her. She hugged her knees tightly, letting the tears fall.

*** *** ***

Spike sat up in his bed, unable to fall back asleep after Buffy left. Their scents still mingled all around him, and he couldn't decide if he found more pain or comfort in that fact. He was grateful for the almost-tangible evidence of what they'd shared at the same time he cursed it for making the loss of the woman he loved so terribly vivid.

"You didn't lose her, you git," he berated himself. "You never bloody had her."

He'd known from the beginning that it was all really no more than a fantasy, that all her talk about love would fade to nothing as soon as her memory returned. He should be grateful she hadn't left him a pile of dust.

But he wasn't grateful for that. He wished she had driven a stake through his crumbling heart. To have someone look at him, really see him, and still call him worthy, it was all he'd ever wished for. With Buffy, he'd known what it was to have that love he'd sought for over a century, and the loss of it was worse than never having it at all.

Spike looked down at the ring he still wore on his hand. Remember love, always. He knew he would, although he wasn't sure if that memory would be fodder for his dreams or nightmares. Holding Buffy had done nothing to ease his need for her. It had only strengthened it.

To make it worse, he was sure Buffy hated him now more than ever. She'd barely looked at him, barely spoken, and she hadn't seemed to be able to get out of there fast enough. He was certain she was disgusted with herself, for ever thinking she could love something like him. Like with every woman he'd ever loved, he was beneath her.

He buried his face in his hands, wishing he had the strength to put an end to the pain.

*** *** ***

Buffy stood outside the Magic Box, trying to calm her nerves. She'd allowed herself only a brief time to cry before she'd cleaned up and set out to face her friends. She didn't want to see them, but she had responsibilities. She needed to put the past few days with Spike behind her, focus on her duties as the Slayer.

If she could focus on her work, maybe she could ignore the aching emptiness inside her.

Buffy pushed the door open, wincing as the bell cheerily announced her presence and caused all eyes to turn to her. "My memory's back," she announced without preamble. "Whatever you guys did, it worked."

"We didn't do anything," Willow replied. "We still can't find that demon—or the crystal—and we couldn't find a spell that wouldn't cause more problems than it would fix."

"Well, the spell must've just worn off then, because I'm Buffy with Memories again."

"I'm glad to hear it," Xander said. "Amnesiac Buffy was getting creepily obsessed with the Bleached Evil."

"His name is Spike," Buffy snapped, unable to keep herself from feeling anger from Xander's dig at Spike. She now had her memories to place Xander in her life, and she remembered what he meant to her, but at the same time, she had her perceptions from her time without memories, too. She loved Xander dearly, but she was seeing him in a new light, and found she had little tolerance for his judgmental, hypocritical behavior. How many people had Anya killed after all?

"Whoa, Buff, take it easy," Xander replied. "I know his name. Just never figured it was that important."

"Well it is. Dawn told me how he fought by your side all summer. You could show him a sliver of respect for that at least."

"Whether he helped us out this summer or not, he's still a killer," Xander replied. "I don't respect killers."

"I guess that explains your treatment of Anya," Buffy replied, causing an immediate hush to fall over the room. Even the ex-demon in question had nothing to say. Buffy sighed. "Look, I just wanted to let you know you can stop your search to cure me, because I'm all fine again. I'm just gonna go now."

"Are you sure?" Willow asked. "You…you don't seem fine. Do you need to talk?"

Buffy looked around the room, noting the two people who were absent: Dawn—who was at school—and, of course, Spike. No, she didn't want to talk. Not with any of them. "No."

"Buffy…"

"Dammit, Willow, I don't want to talk! Especially not with you!"

Willow reared back as if hit, her eyes clouding over with pain. "Buffy…what…"

Buffy felt herself start shaking with rage, unable to keep what she'd felt since she'd been ripped from Heaven bottled up anymore. She was sick of being thrown back and forth between happiness and misery, sick of having bliss and then having it torn away. Why should she spare their feelings when they played with her life like it was a toy? "You're not god, Willow, so stop playing one. You can't just do whatever you want, without thinking of the consequences."

"Buffy, I'm sorry. I just wanted to help you."

"Well, you didn't! You had no right to mess with my memory like that. I may not know anything about being a witch, but I do know a thing or two about power, and I know you can't use it without considering the consequences. Do you know why Faith is sitting in a prison cell right now instead of here with us, doing what she was called to do when she became a Slayer? Because of power. She had it, and she used it when she shouldn't have, and it destroyed her."

"I'm nothing like Faith!" Willow declared, horrified that Buffy would draw such a parallel. "I never intended to hurt anyone."

"Neither did she, not at first. But she did, and you have, too."

"Buffy, I didn't…"

"I was in Heaven!"

It wasn't until the room grew silent that Buffy realized she'd actually made that statement out loud. Her friends looked at her in horror, and Buffy felt smothered. She turned and ran from the Magic Box.

*** *** ***

Buffy stood outside Spike's crypt, her hand against the door. She hadn't intended to come here, but here she was. She opened the doors, feeling herself pulled towards Spike.

He was standing near his fridge, glass of blood in his hand. He froze when he saw Buffy, hoping for an instant that she was here to stake him, to finish what she'd started when she'd broken him. "Didn't expect to be seeing you again so soon, Slayer," he said, trying to keep any emotion from slipping into his voice.

Buffy could see what he was trying to hide from her, saw the pain he struggled to keep at bay dance across his face. She had no doubt his love for her was real, knew that he had to be aching from the loss of what they'd shared. Part of her wanted to go to him, to hold him and tell him she'd meant every word, every touch. But she couldn't. Slayers couldn't love vampires. She knew that all too well.

"I…" Buffy paused, not knowing what to say. How could she explain her presence in his home? "I came for the kittens."

Spike blinked. "The kittens?"

"Yes. If I leave them here, you'll use them as poker chips."

"Right." Spike set his glass down on a sarcophagus. "They're downstairs. Let me get them."

Buffy nodded, letting herself slump when she was out of Spike's sight. How could he make her feel this much? He reemerged a few minutes later, carrying a cardboard box with a tiny, furry paw poking over one side.

"They're all here. In one piece." He frowned. "Or in three pieces, or… They're all fine."

Buffy smiled slightly, taking the box from him. As she did, her hand grazed his, and they both jumped slightly from the contact. "I…I have to go."

"I know."

"I'll…I'll see you around, Spike."

"You, too, Buffy."

Spike was almost certain he heard her start to cry as she left, but he pushed the idea away. Buffy didn't love him. She never would.

*** *** ***

Buffy ran her hand around underneath her comforter, watching as Frank stalked and pounced. She remembered doing this same thing in Spike's bed, remembered him watching her with an amused smile on his face. She wanted to have that now, to be back with him—smiling, laughing.

She'd been so happy…

Buffy picked Frank up, ignoring his mew of protest. She hugged him, rubbing her face against his fur and feeling it dampen with her tears. She didn't know how she could keep on living like this. It was too much.

Buffy heard the knock at her bedroom door, but ignored it. There was no one she wanted to see right now. But the knocker didn't take the hint, and the door pushed open. She looked up, frowning. "Xander."

"Hey, Buff. Can we, um, talk?"

"Rather not."

He held up his hands. "Not here to fight. I just… What you said in the Magic Box today, was it true?"

Buffy sighed, realizing he wasn't going to leave her alone. "I think so. I mean, it's not like there was a big sign that said 'Welcome to Heaven,' but it certainly wasn't Hell. It…it was nice, and warm, and…and I was at peace."

"I'm so sorry, Buffy. I…I had my doubts about bringing you back, but…" He looked down. "I just missed you. I wanted you here…we all wanted you here. We didn't think, and it was selfish, and… I know sorry isn't enough, but I don't know what else to say."

"I understand why you guys did what you did. You did think I was in a Hell dimension, which, might I add, is a tad bit insulting. But yeah, you were trying to save me, and I respect that. In retrospect it wasn't the best thing to do, but there's no way you could've known. And I didn't mean to tell you where I'd really been because I didn't want any of you to feel guilty. You did what you thought was best, and I can understand why." She sighed again, stroking Frank's back. "But what Willow did with my memory… What that did to me…and Spike."

Xander looked up sharply at Spike's name. "Buffy, tell me honestly, did he take advantage of you?"

"No." Buffy let out a deep breath. "But we did…we were together."

Xander's jaw dropped for a moment. "Buffy, you couldn't know what you were doing. Your memory…"

"I knew what I was doing, Xander. I knew exactly what I was doing. Yes, I couldn't remember my past history with Spike, but I wasn't completely clueless. But I felt something with him, something strong. It was like it had been buried under all those bad memories, and without them, it was suddenly so clear."

"Felt something? What could you have possibly felt with him?" Xander met Buffy's eyes for just a moment before her gaze fell down. "You love him."

"Yeah."

"How can you?"

"How can you love Anya?"

"You can't compare Spike to Anya," Xander snapped. "She's an ex-demon."

"Yeah, so all those people she killed came back to life the moment she stopped being a demon. Dammit, Xander, open your eyes! Anya killed as many people as Spike—probably more, seeing as she has several centuries on him. I'm not saying we should condemn her, or that you shouldn't love her. I like Anya, despite her, idiosyncrasies, and I'm glad she's in our lives. But that doesn't undo anything she did. And it doesn't give you the right to blame anything I may feel for Spike when you can't take a long hard look at your own romantic choices."

"Anya…Anya isn't killing anymore."

"Neither is Spike."

"Because he can't! Dammit, the only reason he's all lovey-dovey with you instead of trying to sink his fangs into your throat is because of that chip! If it stopped working, we'd be nothing more than food to him."

"Do you really believe that? Do you think he couldn't find some other way to hurt us if he really wanted to? The chip didn't make him help you guys this summer, and it didn't make him try to protect Dawn the way he did. I can't explain it, but there's something about Spike, something that makes him different from other vampires. It's like he…kept a part of his humanity somehow. I tried to stay blind to it before, tried to keep him from messing up my soulless vampire equals bad worldview. But I can't anymore. I saw him in a new light this week, and I can't ever go back to pretending I don't know he's something special." Buffy let out a deep, shaky breath, almost as amazed at her own words as Xander's facial expression told her he was.

"Are you and Spike…together now?" Xander asked after a few moments.

"No."

"But you just said…"

"I know what I said. And I meant it. But that doesn't change the fact hat he's a vampire, and I'm the Slayer. Been down that road before, and in case you forgot, it was an ugly, nasty, bloody one. I can't risk that much again, not even for love."

"Did he make you happy?"

Buffy wrinkled her brow. "Huh?"

"Spike, when you were with him this week, did he make you happy?"

"Yes."

Xander ran his hand through his hair. "I cannot believe I'm actually about to say this, but here goes. After all you've been through, you…you deserve to be happy. And I'm not giving my blessing or anything, because, well, I don't really like Spike—although to be honest, I do like him marginally better than I ever liked Angel, but that's beside the point. Anyway, what I'm trying to say here is, if Spike gives you something that you need, maybe you should…" Xander stopped, suddenly intensely interested in Buffy's floor. "You should be happy, Buffy."

Buffy stared at him, mouth agape. Was Xander actually telling her to pursue a relationship with Spike? And could she even do that? There were so many risks involved, so many ways to get hurt… "Xander, I…"

"Just go, Buff. Be with him if that's what you need to do." He gave her a half smile. "Just never, ever, tell me any sort of details, got it?"

Buffy laughed slightly. "Yeah." She stood, started for the door, then stopped, looking at Xander again. "Being with him, it isn't the smart thing to do, is it?"

"No. But I'm not sure love ever is."

*** *** ***

Spike had had enough of this town. Sunnydale had been nothing but a source of constant pain for him, be it physical or emotional. He decided it was time he cut his losses, get as far away from the Hellmouth—and the Slayer—as he possibly could.

Maybe then he could manage to forget.

Spike threw a few things in a bag, leaving most of his belongings for whatever demon crawled into his crypt once he was gone. He'd find someplace else, some place to start over.

He walked out of the crypt, never planning to look back.

*** *** ***

Sorry for yet another long delay in posts, but that was seriously the most difficult chapter of fanfic I have ever written. I've never reworked scenes so much in my life, and I'm still not sure if it's any good.

There's one more chapter after this one, so leave lots of reviews and let me know what's on your mind!





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