"ANGEL!"

…

He's dead. I stand alone, the sound around me muted, taking blow after blow as I just stare at the spot where he burst into ashes. 250 years, and all he has to show for it is a pile of ash – which isn't even a pile anymore, I realise, as it billows up into the rain.

"SPIKE!"

I just hear Gunn's voice in time to turn and see the jet of flame heading my way. Angel never got to slay his dragon. I dive out the way and turn back to look at Gunn. He's lying on the floor breathing heavily; a demon standing over him. I won't get to him in time, and even if I did, it wouldn't be worth it. Illyria said he had ten minutes. He'd made twelve. I watch as the demon plunges its halberd into him, and then I concentrate on the demons hemming me in.

I have no choice. I have to fight them. This is not my battle, but it was Angel's. Angel believed this was important. Angel risked not only his own, but our lives for this. Therefore this battle is worth far more than saving my skin – he's gone, but I'm not, and it's down to me to carry on. If it was important to him then it's important to me.

I hated the bastard. Hated him to the core of my being, but he was part of me. The two of us, we were one. Everything he was, I reflected in myself. And yet we were also opposites – large and small, methodical and rash, dark-haired and fair, restrained and loud-mouthed… I took all the parts of him that he hated and hid away, and personified them. That's why he hated me – and I only hated him because he could never accept me, he could never love me.

No, that's not quite true. He did accept me; he just didn't want to. We had a connection beyond anything the Watcher's council could ever comprehend. I don't know if I would go as far as to call it love, but it was there, and Angel knew it, deep down. We've been through everything together. That's why I couldn't stand it when he got a soul because I knew that Angel was looking back on me, on us, and regretting it. I never wanted him to regret me – what was I supposed to do with a Sire that hated me? And so I became angry that he was ashamed of me, and the anger led to hate and that's… that was all we had left. But I think this year, things were getting better between us; we were making it work.

And then he had to go and die. Dammit Angel, how am I supposed to do this without you? It's just me and Illyria now and we can't do this alone! We can't! I'm going to die fighting his battle because with him gone the only thing I can hold onto is that all that matters is killing these demons. I don't know why – I never understood when he explained anything to us – I did what he asked because he thought it was right. I trust his judgement and I know there's no point in me asking 'why fight?'. I was never competent at knowing the difference between good and evil. If I do something I think is right, it turns out to be wrong. I'm not a leader, and I know that now. Angel knew the line. He knew exactly where it was and if he says something is evil, then it's evil.

I fight because he said so. I know it's hopeless, but Angel said so.

I'll die, because I have faith in him.