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[A/N – The title comes from a song by Alice In Chains, one of the best hard rock bands ever – if you haven’t listened, give it a go, and then say a prayer for the soul of the lead singer, Layne Staley, one tortured man. The quote is as attributed.]

Previously: Spike grieves alone, the rest grieve together, Willow begins plotting and life, such as it is, goes on in Sunnydale. This picks up directly from the previous chapter.

Three – Can I be as my God am?


Hail Swallower of shades who came forth from the cavern, I have not stolen.
Hail Lord of Truth who came forth from Maat, I have not stolen bread.
Hail Pale One who came forth from Heliopolis, I have not babbled.
Hail Demolisher who came forth from Xios, I have not transgressed.
Hail Youth who came forth from the Heliopolitan nome, I have not been deaf to words of truth.
Hail Nefertum who came forth from Memphis, I have done no wrong, I have seen no evil.
Egyptian Book of the Dead, excerpts from the Declaration of Innocence, Hymn to Osiris


It was a lie, and she knew it. Long before the words came out of her mouth, Willow knew she was going to lie to her best friend and a part of her no longer cared. A smaller part gave her a twinge as the words were coming, but she squashed that and moved right into her explanation. “I’ve already checked. The dimensional doors to Glory’s world were wide open and that’s the place she and Doc were aiming for. It was the first place I looked and . . . I didn’t think she’d go where Angel went, since it was a different time . . . but anyway, that’s where I looked.”

So she didn’t actually say Buffy was there, which made it okay. At least in her mind it did. It should have been harder to lie to him, and some sort of sign should have shown, but it wasn’t hard, and no scarlet letter appeared magically on her forehead. In fact, it was so simple, and made so much sense, that Xander didn’t even blink. “Ok, Willow, I buy that. But how are you going to get her free of this dimension?”

“Xander, were you listening? I just explained all that.” Oooh, lie number two, just as easy as the first. Well, only sort of a lie, because she sort of did explain it, only just so that he wouldn’t really understand. “Look, I know you think I’m tilting windmills here, but I have to do something, I can’t just let her stay there. And I’m the only one that can do something.“

That was the absolute truth. Giles could maybe do it, with help from outside sources, and Anya probably knew a few demons that could do it, but Willow was the only one of them that could do it without help. It would take lots of preparation and she’d have to gather all her supplies on the QT, but she could do it. And she was going to, whatever Xander thought about it.

“Right, I get that.” He was quiet for a moment, looking away from her, staring down the alleyway into the shadows around the back entrance to the Magic Box. “So,” he said taking a deep breath finally looking down at her, “what can I do?”

This was unexpected. “What?” she almost yelped, her face giving away her total surprise. “You want to help?”

“Gee Will, you think so? Buffy was my friend, I loved her as much as you. I’d do anything to get her back, to have her here.” His hands rested on her shoulders, while his eyes looked deeply into hers. “I don’t think any of us wouldn’t not help.”

“Um. Well, I don’t know. I don’t think Giles or Spike would.” How the heck was she going to tell him she didn’t want anyone else to know what she was doing? How was she going to get him to keep silent also? The less everyone knew the better, then she would be able to do everything she had to. Somehow, she didn’t think Giles was going to be happy about the sacrifices, and she knew Spike wasn’t going to let her use Dawn, as it was beginning to look like she was going to have to. But short of that, she figured Spike would do just about anything to get Buffy back. The problem was, so far everything she’d researched had indicated that something, probably blood, from Dawn was essential.

“I have no problem keeping things from evil dead, but why Giles?” Ah, at least his demonic prejudices were still in place. Xander didn’t really like Spike and he’d been the most vocal about keeping him away from the others, especially Dawn. He’d been over-ruled, but that didn’t stop him from voicing his dissension with the current “Spike is one of us” party-line.

“Because I don’t think he would agree to opening up the dimensions again.” Ooh, lie number three. And the hits just kept coming. Willow figured that right now, she was up to as many lies today as she’d said in her whole life. The way she knew Giles, he’d probably be right there with Spike, bring Buffy back at any cost, and he might even be willing to use Dawn. If she was being honest with herself, and at this point she wasn’t sure if she was, she didn’t want Giles second-guessing and questioning everything she did. She doubted he would permit her to use dark magics, in fact, she knew he’d try to stop her. Given his past and the problems with Ethan and Eyghon, Willow was sure that Giles would have a whole lot to say about the sources she was preparing to use. And she soo didn’t need that. It was all weird enough without Giles giving her a hard time.

Somehow that must have made sense to Xander, because he was suddenly agreeing with her. “So, no telling of plans to the English. What about the girls? Don’t you think Dawnie should know?”

“NO” her voice was overly loud, but Willow really really didn’t want to let everyone in on this. “Do you really think Anya will keep her mouth quiet? And Tara, she’s just . . . Tara just got over being possessed by Glory, so not up to this much magic. No telling of Dawn either, what if it doesn’t work right away, I don’t want to get her hopes up and then . . . . no Xander, better we just keep it quiet.”

She watched his face, waiting for his argument about telling Anya. It never came. He couldn’t come up with any reason to contradict her, so he just let it go. Truth was, Xander knew Anya wouldn’t mean to, but she’d spill the beans and Tara was still shaky, even though it had been a couple of weeks.

It only took a moment for it all to sink in, but once it did, Xander was hooked. The look in his eyes underscored his complete trust in her, as misplaced as it currently was. With luck and hope, Xander would never find out just how badly she’d lied to him, manipulating his dislike of Spike, his trust in her, and his unrequited love for Buffy into believing everything she’d told him and not questioning what she’d omitted.

Goddess, wouldn’t it be nice if it all went like this?

******************************* ***************************************

The sun was sinking down, the sky wrapped in shades of clear blue streaked with golden amber. Dawn looked up, staring up at the sky. Light wispy clouds floated above, almost close enough to reach. There were so few moments like this, where there was nothing but herself, no one hanging about wondering how she was. She didn’t mind so much, when it was Spike, but the others were enervating. Spike let her be, knowing instinctively what she needed, when she needed it. He didn’t crowd her, didn’t promise her things would be okay, and didn’t treat her like a freak. At times she found Willow or Xander staring at her, strange looks on their faces and it just . . . made her want to shriek at them to stop it. But she didn’t shriek, she didn’t scream. She’d even stopped crying, except when she was alone. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, because she still curled up next to Spike and cried when they were alone, before everyone else came home for the night.

Home. Where no one was related to her anymore. Her family was either dead or didn’t want her, and the only one she really trusted was Spike. How weird was that? No one told her, but she knew that Buffy and Giles had a disagreement just before the show down with Glory, because Giles was acting way too nice to her.

Spike wasn’t any different. He didn’t blame her for Buffy dying, he didn’t treat her differently. If anything, he was more careful of her feelings than the others, more worried about her. His feelings about Buffy were obvious, and she knew he cried when he was alone. Sometimes, she would look at him through her own tears and know he was crying right along with her. They never talked about it, their grief, but it was a third presence whenever they were alone. He hid it carefully from the others, not wanting to listen to their stupidity over it.

Walking along Revello toward the house, Dawn tried to figure out why the sky made her feel happy. And then it struck her – the colors of the sky right now were the colors of Spike’s eyes. Blue and amber. Her favorite colors ever.

Sighing deeply, Dawn climbed the steps. It just wasn’t the same. Spike was inside waiting for her, instead of Mom or Buffy. It was nice having him here, living in the house, but it just wasn’t the same. At least he made schoolwork easier. Not that she was doing much of it, but when she did muster up the wherewithal to do it, Spike always knew the answers. He managed to hide his intelligence from most of the others, but he couldn’t fool either her or Giles. There were nights she couldn’t sleep, and she found herself sitting on the stairs, listening to the two men talk. The deep cadences of their voices soothed her in ways she didn’t really want to examine, but it was just the sounds calmed her. They had a surprisingly wide range of subjects to talk about, everything from demonology to music to British politics and nearly everything in between. The one thing they’d never talked about, unless they did it when she was asleep, was her sister. Hardly any of them talked about Buffy, at least not around her. She hated that. Buffy was her sister and she needed to talk about her and Mom. About how she felt being alone. About Spike. About anything.

But none of them except Spike talked to her about it. And that just sucked.

Clattering noisily into the house, Dawn dumped her books on the floor next to the door and yelled out “Spike”, wondering where he was.

His voice was soft, coming from the living room. He was parked in front of the television, not really watching it. It sounded like he was just waking up. “‘lo Nib. How was your day?”

“It was a day.” Things were so domestic between them, just as if they were a family. It was nice, comforting even. Only two things were missing. Joyce and Buffy. Dawn looked at him, noting his disheveled appearance. Her giggle subsided into a sob. He was up, taking her into his arms before she even realized she was crying. “‘s alright, pet. Shhhh. C’mon, sit.”

It was a long time before her crying stopped, but he never moved, except to hold her closer. Dawn was practically in his lap, her head resting against his chest, her arms clutched around him tightly. There was no comforting thump of a heartbeat against her ear, but that didn’t matter. He still smelled like Spike, leather and tobacco and well, home. She wiped her runny nose, snuffling into his shirt. His harrumph made her softly chuckle, but she knew it was an act. Nothing phased him, not demon guts or Dawn snot, well, nothing short of death anyway. “I’m such a baby.”

“Nah. You’ve just had a rough time of it. No worries, pet. Cry all you want. ‘M here to listen.” His hand rubbed her back, soothing the hiccups away.

Her arms tightened around him. Maybe it wasn’t so bad having Spike to come home to.





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