SETTINGS: Set after The Gift.
NOTES: Yes, we're Aussie, which means that colour has a 'u' in it! Oh, just as a casual by the way, these characters aren't ours. Which really does suck for us, but…they're not. Except Court and Christian…and everything about the demons is made up.
DISCLAIMER: *sighs* Wish it was ours. Sadly it's not.
Feedback is good, but go easy. We've never written a Buffy fanfic before, so…this is kinda our first attempt.
I'm re-uploading this cos the italics and stuff were…well, stuffed.
Alone Again
CHAPTER ONE: MEMORIESGiles could see Dawn standing off to the side, the sobs racking her body, her hands covering her mouth. Giles swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the sick, queer feeling he had in his stomach. He took a step forward, not believing the sight in front of him.
She was lying on her back, looking as though she were asleep. Asleep and not dead. As he reached the large crate that she had fallen on, he fell to his knees, unable to bring himself to stay standing. His eyes, aching from the emotion couldn't bring themselves to shed the tears that he desperately needed to cry.
So this was how Buffy had felt when her mother, the closest person to her, had died.
He hadn't hurt this much since Jenny Calender had died. Since Joyce Summers had died.
In his life, he had loved exactly three women. In his life, he had had to bury those same three women.
He put a hand to her still warm-cheek, tears still staining her cheeks. He tried to brace himself, tried to reconcile himself with what had happened. He stood up, ignoring the shakiness of his knees, ignoring the way his body felt numb as he picked up Buffy's body in his arms.
He gave a quick look towards Xander and Anya, silently telling them that he was taking her away from here, away from the place that Buffy had hated before she had ever even seen it.
Willow, leaning on Tara for strength, began to follow him, ignoring the still sobbing blonde-haired man, cowering in the shadows as the sun continued to rise over Sunnydale. She motioned towards Dawn to follow, but the young girl shook her head. Willow hesitated a moment, but allowed her to take the moments that she wanted so she could be alone.
Giles had moved before Spike had even begun to let his body calm down, let his heart stop aching as much as it did. He slumped onto the ground, suddenly not caring if the sun burnt him to a crisp. All that mattered to him was being taken away.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. The crying young teenage girl knelt down, their two sobbing bodies melting into each other, trying to contain the emotion and complete heartache that each was feeling.
"You have to get out of here," she whispered through her sobs.
He shook his head, not having the strength, energy or the reason to get up and walk away from this place of death.
"The sun's coming up," he replied, his voice trembling.
"You can use your jacket to cover you," she suggested. She didn't want to walk home alone, and she wasn't going to leave here without him. She wasn't going to leave him there as the others had done.
He looked away from her, hating the sight of the 'ceremonial dress' she had been forced to put on. Hating the two tears in it that showed the places where she had been cut. Hating that he should have protected her, and here she was, trying to protect him.
She pulled his jacket off him, surprised by the weakness of his body and the lack of effort and strength that he was putting into saving himself from the sunlight that would kill him. Covering his head carefully, she helped him to his feet and grabbed his hand, careful to hid any skin that showed from the sun that was trying to capture Spike's life.
Their run towards the house was quick, both still running from adrenaline, both knowing that their fatigued bodies would need to be rested, and soon. She opened the door and let him inside, trying not to wince as she saw his hand beginning to sizzle from the heat of the daylight.
They entered the living room, the group having taken up a silent residence in the room, Buffy laying lifeless on the couch. The exact same position that Buffy had found her mother in. Dawn gasped, shocked at the sight that she had been trying to erase from her memory.
Spike, in a bout of new energy, picked Buffy up swiftly, ignoring the protests from Giles, and raced up the stairs, carrying the girl he had fallen in love with up towards her room.
He walked in, fresh tears coming into his eyes. As he laid her down on her bed, he heard the door slam shut. He whipped around to see if there was anyone else in the room, but it was just he and Buffy. Alone. The one thing he had wanted for months, but suddenly, he didn't want to be in here with her. Not like this.
He pulled up a chair and sat down by the bed, his hand holding hers, cold, dead. Much like his own.
He saw that the drawer to her dressing table was open slightly, in it was her collection of stakes, crosses and holy water. He opened it fully to see the entire collection. There was at least five different chains and crosses lying neatly in the corner.
He picked up the largest silver one, ignoring the pain and burning that his hand was going through. He lifted Buffy's head up slightly and put the chain over her neck.
She had gone into the battle tonight without wearing the chain, perhaps realising that up against Glory, the chain would offer her no protection.
Sniffling, he caressed her face gently, wishing that she would wake up, perhaps tackle him, tell him to get his dead-cold hands away from her. Call him a pervert, dead-boy, a monster. Anything.
He withdrew his hand from her face and shut the dresser drawer. He looked at her again and remembered every word of their last conversation.
"We're not all going to make it. You know that right?"
"I know. Hey, I always knew I'd go down fighting."
"I'm counting on you…to protect her."
"To the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight."
He had failed. He had promised to protect Dawn. And in failing to protect Dawn, he had killed Buffy in the process. It was his fault. His.
Buffy wouldn't have died if he had have kept his word. If he had have protected Dawn the way he said he was going to.
With new tears in his eyes, he stood up and left the room, running down the stairs, towards the front door. He hesitated as he put his hand onto the door knob, knowing that opening the door would cause him an instant second death. No one in the room next door would even care.
"Spike!"
He stopped. All but one. All but one wouldn't care.
He turned around to see Dawn racing towards him and into his arms.
He hugged her tightly, stroking her hair gently, the way he had seen Buffy do so many times before.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. Again and again he repeated that one phrase. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
She looked at him, scared, unsure, uncertain.
"Spike…you can't go out there. The light…it'll kill you."
He stayed silent, his heart aching deeply.
"I can't stay here Nibblet."
"You're giving up? Just like that?" Dawn cried angrily.
Spike looked away, unable to look her in the eyes, unable to see her tears.
"If you give up now then her death means nothing!"
"She died to save you, not to save me."
"She died to save all of us! She died to save everyone in this stupid town, and the last time I checked, that includes you. But if you really want to give up that easily, then burn. It's hard to leave this world, but it's even harder to stay in it."
"I have to leave Little Bit," he whispered affectionately. "I can't stay here. I'm not welcome anymore."
"You'll always be welcome here."
He shook his head, still embracing the small girl.
"I'm sorry."
She looked away from him and stepped backwards.
"If you leave now…if you leave…" she trailed off, unable to finish. She broke into sobs once more, making Spike wrap her in his arms.
"I'll stay. For you. I'll stay."
~*~
The house was still quiet, even though every member of the Scooby gang was in there. Each was sitting in quiet contemplation. Each of them had could feel their hearts aching, breaking, shattering.
Spike was sitting in the corner, his arms around Dawn protectively. Neither of them had said a word since re-entering the house.
Xander stood up from his seat next to Anya and walked towards Willow, sitting next to Tara, looking stunned. He held out his hand to her. It took Willow a moment to register that Xander was standing in front of her. She looked up at him, slightly unsure. She took his outstretched hand and let him help her to her feet.
The two friends hugged tightly, desperately.
They had known Buffy for longer than any of the others. Buffy had made them what they had become.
Willow had transformed from a shy, awkward girl to the stunning beauty standing in Xander's arms now. To the confident, strong Wicca who had fought against a HellGod and very nearly won.
Xander had gone from the being a nobody with no talents and hardly any friends to being a confident young man, now engaged to the woman he loved. And it was because of Buffy's strength that he had pulled through.
Xander and Willow understood each other. They understood without a doubt that things were never going to be the same again. That everything that had happened tonight was going to irreversibly affect each and every person in that room in one way or another. From themselves, whom had befriended Buffy on her first day in Sunnydale five years ago, to Tara how had only just met her last year.
Willow finally let her tears begin to fall, as Xander knew would happen. She had kept everything bottled up inside of her, too afraid to let her outer guard down. She had wanted to live up to Buffy's expectations. To be the "big gun" to be their "only hope."
But, she finally crumbled. In Xander's arms, she knew that she could no longer hold onto her tears, could no longer hold onto the pain, the hurt and the heartache that she was feeling boiling up inside of her.
She clutched the back of Xander's shirt, sobbing against his shoulder. With tears in his eyes, he told her that they would get through this. Not that it would be alright, because he knew that those were not the words that Willow needed to hear, but that they would survive.
He knew what she needed, knew what she needed to hear, even though things had changed. Even though he was with Anya and she was with Tara, he loved her unconditionally, just as he had told Buffy in the library so many years ago, just as he had told Willow when she was comatose in the hospital.
He didn't know how, but he knew that one way or another, they would get through this.
From her position on the couch, Tara gave a small smile, knowing that maybe, just maybe, they were going to get through this.
~*~
The group eventually began to dissolve, to fade away. Tara and Willow left, hand-in-hand from Buffy's house. In a quiet voice, Willow told Giles that she was going home, there was nothing she could do here to help. Giles nodded, understanding.
"I'll see you in the morning I guess," Giles said uncertainly.
Willow nodded. She leant over and kissed Giles' cheek, something she had never done before in her life. He gave her a half smile and took her hand.
"Thank you."
Xander looked at Anya and stood up.
"We should probably go as well."
Giles nodded and stood up. He shook Xander's hand, and surprised, accepted the hug that Xander offered him.
"We'll make it through this," Xander said comfortingly.
Giles nodded and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"I'm sure we will."
Xander took Anya by the hand and walked her slowly to the door. When she nearly collapsed, he picked her up in his arms.
"We should get you to a hospital."
"No. I just want to stay with you tonight," she whispered. "But no inappropriately timed sex."
He nodded softly and continued to walk, holding her in his arms.
Giles looked towards Spike and Dawn. Dawn was resting her head in Spike's shoulder, her eyes closed, tears still falling softly.
Spike looked down and kissed the top of Dawn's head. He picked her up easily.
"Come on. We'll get you to bed, okay?"
Dawn nodded, too tired and too weak to fight back. He took her up the stairs, past Buffy's room where the door was thankfully shut. He laid her down on her bed and found the pyjama's that were stashed underneath her pillow.
He helped her pull the pants on under the dress, and turned away like a true gentleman as she pulled the dress off and got into her t–shirt.
He took the ceremonial dress off her and put it on a chair by her desk. He knelt down on his knees by her bedside as Dawn slid under the covers, curling up like the frightened child that Spike knew she was.
He touched her face gently and wiped a tear away.
"I'll take care of you Little Bit. I swear I won't let anything happen to you," he whispered.
Dawn smiled through her tears and nodded. She watched as Spike stood up.
"Wait!"
He looked down at her.
"Will…will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep. Please?"
He nodded and pulled up the chair, throwing the dress onto the floor by the door.
"I don't know any good bed-time stories though."
She gave him a half-smile.
"Did…you loved her, didn't you?"
He nodded slowly and took her hand.
"You loved her too."
She nodded, her eyes filling with tears.
"What's your favourite memory of her?" she whispered.
He smiled softly.
"I have a great many favourites. I was…when I was…" He stopped, not wanting to admit to the evil that had been inside of him.
She nodded, understanding what he was trying to say.
"I remember when she got into trouble with the police. She was accused of killing another girl."
"You mean Kendra? The other Slayer?"
"Yeah. Kendra. She was walking through the park and she got to the road. A cop car flashes it's lights and gets her with her hands on her head. I saw it happen. Suddenly, I jump out of the bushes and kick the wanker's ass," he said.
Dawn gave a small laugh at his description.
"Hello cutie."
Buffy hit him hard in the face. He grabbed her by the shoulders, but she knees him in the groin.
"Will you hold on a second!"
Buffy pulls out a stake and Spike steps back quickly.
"Hey, white flag out, I quit."
…
"Why would you ever come to me?"
"I want Dru back. I want it like it was before he came back. I don't like the way she acts around him."
"You're pathetic."
"I whacked her one, but she gave back as good as she got. She eventually agreed to listen to me, and we ended back up here. We get to the front lawn and…and your mum comes into the driveway. I figured she would have known about Buffy being the Slayer, seeing as I knew Buffy and your mom were close."
"What, you're mum doesn't know?"
"Know what?" Joyce asked.
"That I'm uh…in a band. A rock band with Spike here."
"Right, she plays the…the triangle."
"Drums," Buffy said quickly.
"Drums yes…she's uh, a hell on the old skins, you know."
"I think that was my favourite moment," he said fondly. "She had a sense of humour that girl."
"You loved her even then," Dawn said. It wasn't a question. She knew the truth.
"I wanted her dead," he said, his head hanging in shame. "I guess I should have been careful what I wished for."
~*~
Giles looked up as Spike came down the stairs.
"You were up there a long time," he commented.
Spike shrugged, almost challenging him to say something more.
"She didn't want to be alone. I stayed until she fell asleep."
Giles nodded and watched as Spike took a seat.
"What, uh…what happens now? To Lit…to Dawn?" Spike asked.
"Honestly, I don't know. I uh…we should see what she wants to happen. If she uh…if she wants to stay here in Sunnydale, or…or if she wants to go back and live with her father in…in some remote region of Spain," Giles said.
"Her father…have…have you called him?"
"No. No, I haven't."
Spike nodded and reached for the phone.
"Uh, I don't know if that's such a good idea," Giles said, looking at his watch. Spike glanced at the clock. 6:47am. He shrugged and flipped through the address book by the phone.
"Wouldn't it be best to wait until a little later?" Giles asked.
"If she was your daughter, wouldn't you want to know?" Spike asked angrily.
Giles looked away ashamed. He had wanted to keep the calls until as late as possible. Possibly to stop himself from having to face up to the actuality of what had happened.
He watched as Spike dialled the number and waited.
After a few seconds, he slammed down the phone impatiently.
"Bloody answering machine."
Giles looked away, almost relieved that Spike had been unable to contact Buffy's father. Contacting her only living relative besides Dawn made the situation seem all too real for him.
"Yes…Buffy said…she said she had trouble getting a message through to him when Joyce passed away," Giles explained softly.
Spike threw himself towards the couch, slumping down into it and holding his head in his hands.
Giles stood up, hating the awkward silence that was hanging between them.
"I'll get some cream for you. You're covered in wounds."
Spike nodded and looked away as Giles left and headed into the kitchen.
"Spike, you're covered in sexy wounds."
That had been the night that she had kissed him.
"What you did for Dawn and for me, that was real. I won't forget it."
Giles re-entered and knelt down. He dabbed iodine on Spike's cuts, apologising softy as Spike flinched away.
"What you did tonight…" Giles trailed off, not really certain of what he wanted to say.
"What I did tonight was fail. I failed her. I killed her."
"No! No you didn't," Giles cried.
Spike shook his head slowly and stood up, getting away from Giles.
"I couldn't protect Dawn. I swore to protect her and I didn't. She…she's dead because I failed her! Because I couldn't live up to what I said I would do."
"Spike, listen to me. You no more killed Buffy than I did. She died because she worked out that she had to die. That the only way to save this wretched planet was for her to sacrifice the biggest thing she could. Herself."
"But she shouldn't have had to!" Spike yelled. "She shouldn't have had to have sacrificed herself, because I should have been up there. I should have tried to get up there as soon as I knew there was someone up there with her. I should have been up there from the start."
"You weren't to know Spike! It was not your fault! She made a choice. She made the right choice."
"She shouldn't have had to have made the choice. The plan was to stop Glory from starting the ritual, and the ritual began!"
"At least you tried! You were up there."
"It wasn't enough. Nowhere near it. I wasn't enough for her."
~*~
For nearly twenty two hours, there was silence in the living room. Spike's thoughts kept creeping back up to the room upstairs where Buffy lay on her bed, dead, cold. Alone.
Giles had fallen into a fitful sleep on the couch, and Dawn was still upstairs sleeping soundly, exhausted from her earlier ordeal, and the shock of losing her sister.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a thought clicked over. They had gone to rescue Dawn early on Saturday morning, just after four o'clock. When the battle was over, the sun had been rising.
She had died on a Saturday. Fresh teas sprang to Spike's eyes as he remembered his first words to her.
"Who are you?" she had asked.
"You'll find out on Saturday."
"What happens on Saturday?"
"I kill you."
He had killed her. Him. Not without the help of a malicious hellgod, but he had killed her.
He sniffled back his tears and looked across at Giles who was holding his glasses in one hand and his head was resting in his other. Spike tried to regain a hold of his emotions, trying desperately to be strong, at least until he could get back to his crypt and let his heart shatter into a million pieces.
"We should…we should probably try again tomorrow morning to get a hold of her father. So he can come here for the uh…for the funeral," he said slowly.
Giles rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Of course…yes…the uh…the funeral. We should…I'll uh…I'll arrange that in the morning."
Spike nodded and looked towards the clock. 5:30am.
"I should…I should go. The sun will be up again soon, and…my skin doesn't react well with sunlight."
Giles nodded and stood up.
"Right. Right. I'll uh…I'll uh…I'll call you when I know what's going to happen."
"I'll be back here tonight. Just to…just to check up on Little Bit."
Giles gave a small smile at the endearment.
"Why do you call her that?"
"Because…she's a little bit of Buffy. And, right now, I think she really needs to hear that."
Giles nodded and shook Spike's hand, a first for them as well.
"Thank you for…for being here tonight," Giles said.
Spike nodded and went to leave.
"I uh…" Giles' voice stopped Spike.
Spike turned to face him, wondering what he could possibly say, possibly do to make any of this any easier.
Giles looked away, unable to tell him that he understood Spike's love. Unable to tell him that there was never going to be an easy way to get through this. And unable to tell Spike that he was grateful for Spike's love for Buffy and for Dawn.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
~*~
Dawn woke up in her bed, startled. Her dream had woken her up with a shock. She had been falling, falling. But it hadn't been her. It had been Buffy. She had seen what Buffy had seen, felt what Buffy was feeling as she had fallen to her death.
The endless fall, the bright light of the vortex, and…the end.
It was as though Dawn had woken up in Buffy's body. Lying there. Helpless. Hopeless. Dead.
Dawn wiped the sleep and the tears from her eyes and stood up a little shakily.
She moved down the corridor and stopped. The door to Buffy's room was open slightly. She pushed it further open and gasped.
Her sister was still lying there, pale, cold. Dead.
Giles was sitting there next to her, holding her hand, speaking to her softly. Dawn stood quietly in the doorway, feeling guilty for listening, but uncontrollably drawn to hear what he had to say.
"I thought I was prepared for this Buffy. I thought that I would be able to handle it. I thought…Buffy…"
She watched as he wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Buffy, when I saw you that first day in the library…I thought you wouldn't last five minutes…I thought that…I thought that you wouldn't be able to handle the pressures of being the Slayer, but…you proved me wrong. You handled being the Slayer. You handled having friends, having a boyfriend who was a vampire. You handled it when he turned bad again. You saved the world so many times, and…you made me love you like I would love a daughter. You trusted me even though I betrayed you in he worst of ways."
Betrayed? Dawn suddenly understood. When Giles had drugged her just after her eighteenth birthday. Some Watcher's Council test to make sure Buffy wasn't just about her strength. She had passed with flying colours, but had ended up hating Giles, until she realised how reluctant he had been about performing the test.
"Buffy, I don't know what to do now. I wasn't meant to get so attached to you, you know that. I wasn't meant to love the Slayer like a daughter. I got thrown off the Council, but that couldn't stop me. Nothing could. Buffy…I don't know what to do with Dawn…I don't know how to handle this."
The door creaked a little and Giles jumped up, startled. He cleared his throat and looked at Dawn. She could tell he hadn't slept as well as she had.
"Dawn," he said softly.
She gave a small smile, trying not to look past him, but unable to tear her eyes away from her sister. She walked over towards the bed and looked down. She put a gentle hand to Buffy's face.
"Dawn…I uh…Spike tried to call your father last night…"
She looked at him, drawing her hand away from her sister's face, not quite certain how to react.
"And?"
"He wasn't at home. We're going to…to try again so he can be here…for uh…for-"
"For the funeral," Dawn finished, her voice shaking.
Giles nodded.
"I uh…put in a call to the uh…to the funeral parlour. He said that…that it would be ready by uh, Wednesday. So…I was thinking we should have the funeral in the morning."
"No!"
He looked at her, startled by her outburst.
"No," she repeated, more calmly.
He stared at her blankly, hoping she would give an explanation.
"Not in the morning. Not during the day. Spike…"
It dawned on Giles suddenly what the young girl was trying to say to him.
"Of course…of course. At night. I'll…I'll see what I can do."
"Promise me? Promise me you'll make it at night."
She took his hand and stared at him, begging him with her eyes to give her this request.
"I promise."
~*~
Tara watched Willow pacing restlessly around their bedroom, the one that she barely recognised. Tara was sitting cross-legged on the bed, still in her pyjama's, her boots lying on the floor in a heap.
Willow stopped suddenly and looked at Tara.
"Angel!"
"What?"
"Angel! We…we have to tell Angel. He…he should know," Willow said quietly.
Tara stood up and took Willow's hand, facing her.
"Do you have his number?"
"I…I can't tell him over the phone. He…he shouldn't have to find out over the phone. That's…I…I have to go. I have to go and tell him."
Tara nodded. "Then
you should go."
Willow smiled, thankful that Tara understood.
"Come with me?"
"Always."
________________________
Willow sat in the big open room of Angel's building, waiting for him to return from wherever he was. Tara had opted to stay at the hotel they had booked while Willow told Angel about what had happened.
She looked up as she heard the door beginning to open.
"There's no place like-" Angel stopped as he saw Willow.
"Willow."
"What's she doing here?" Cordelia asked softly.
Angel and Willow looked eyes, and Willow knew that the sinking feeling she felt in her stomach was how Angel was feeling now.
"It's Buffy," he whispered softly.
He walked down the stairs to where Willow sat. Willow stood up, still shaky from the power that had been drained from her earlier when she had reversed what Glory had done to Tara.
Angel took her hands gently and pulled her into a hug.
"What happened?"
Willow sniffled and pulled away from him. She sat down on the couch and he quickly followed suit.
"She…she saved the world. It…it was a choice between her and Dawn, and…and she chose to let Dawn live."
"But…but Dawn's not real!" Angel protested.
"Not real?" Cordelia repeated. "She is real. She's got way better dress sense than Buffy."
Angel shot her a look that immediately made her close her mouth.
"I'm sorry Angel," Willow whispered softly.
He stared blankly, looking through her, past her.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"Close your eyes."
Angel suddenly snapped to attention. He grabbed Willow by the hand and dragged her towards the door.
"We have to go. I have to see her. Tonight."
Willow broke free of his grasp, surprising herself by the strength that she wasn't aware she had.
She held him by the arm softly, allowing him to walk away if he wanted to.
"There's nothing you can do," she whispered.
He looked away, tears in his eyes.
"I know. I…I need to see her."
She nodded softly.
"Let me get back to Tara in the hotel, and I'll follow you back in the car."
Angel nodded.
"Meet us back here in front of the building in ten minutes," she said. She took off hurriedly, leaving Angel, Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn in silence.
Cordelia put a hand to Angel's arm. It took a moment for him to register that he was being touched. He looked at her, tears in his eyes, tears in hers.
"I'm sorry."