Author: UncagedMuse
Rating: R for violence and bloodshed
Timeline: S6 Buffy’s resurrection
Completed on January 9th 2007.

A/N: In this fic I do a ‘what if?’ scenario with Buffy’s sanity after being torn from Heaven. It is my first dark fic and I do mean dark. There is pain, anger, insanity, death, and no happy ending. The fic is FINISHED! It is only 6 parts and I will be posting 2 parts this week and the other 4 next week. I bow before my betas, Megan and Tam *kisses their feet*. They loved it so much the entire fic was completely beta’d within two days.

Chapter One
Crushing Reality

Buffy clawed her way through earth that threatened to smother the life from her. What was happening to her? One moment everything was serene and peaceful, then sudden agony filled her consciousness, making her fight and tear just to breathe.

Mauling desperately at fabric, wood, and dirt that blocked her from the oxygen her aching body urgently needed, she felt something cool drop from her hand onto her lip. Instinctively her tongue shot out, tasting. Blood. Her blood was pouring from the lacerations she had created in her pursuit to be free.

Pulling herself up through dirt that clung to her skin like a death shroud, she filled her burning lungs and dragged herself to firmer ground. Rolling over onto her back she lay there panting, trying to gather enough strength to get her painfully stiff limbs to move. 
                   
Struggling to understand what was going on, she noticed the simply carved headstone. Why was her name staring back at her from the cold grey stone? Her head was trying to play catch up as muscle spasms slammed into her, sending shockwaves throughout her, contorting her body with ferocious intensity.

Slowly memories started to seep through the anguished fog that surrounded her. Things that she couldn’t comprehend flashed across her mind’s eye. The memories were too much. Misery overwhelmed her while she continued to scrutinize the grave marker standing stoically before her. It taunted her with its engraving and suddenly everything became clear.
                          
Oh God, it was hers.

She had just torn herself from her own grave. Where was the tranquility? Had she been shoved out? Why was she here again? She was done. Couldn’t she even die in peace?

Pushing herself, Buffy staggered to her feet fighting to hold back a scream. The feeling of broken glass and sharp bits of metal grinding beneath her skin resonated with every step. She reeled drunkenly through the darkness, wary of the slightest noise and jumping at anything that brushed against her.

Soon silent tombstones and shadows gave way to blaring pandemonium that filled the night air. Street lights glared, blinding her with their brightness. Pain filled every step, colored every breath, as she forced long dead muscles to work once more.
                 
Running now. Yes, running. Maybe if she ran fast enough she’d be free again. Ignoring the demons that were smashing the windows of various shops as she blurred past them, she tried to move fast enough to be liberated of the sickening flesh that held her to this bleak world. 

The weakness in her legs took its toll and she slowed to a stumbling walk, sobbing as she noticed the familiarity of the neighborhood around her. Hate suffused her. Hate for this world. Hate for this body she was forced back into. Hate for being torn from her blissful heaven. Every cell of her being was filled with intense hatred for all things around her.
                                                                          
An earth shattering scream filled with every ounce of bitterness and grief she felt wrenched from deep within her as she fell to the ground, wailing to the night air.
                                                                    
@~@~@~

“Spike, you can’t go out there! You. Are. Not. Leaving. Me. Alone! Do you understand? I’m not staying locked in this house while you try and find the Scoobies with all these freaky demons running through town,” Dawn yelled. He must be crazy to think she was going to stay locked in the basement while he ran around trying to stop whatever was going on.
                        
“Listen, Bit…” Spike started just as the most horrifyingly tormented cry he’d ever heard sliced through the air and Dawn jumped into his arms.

“Wh…what do you think that was?” she stuttered.
                            
“Don’t know, but whoever’s out there sounds like they need help,” he answered confidently. Quickly moving to the window, he cautiously lifted the curtain. He could clearly hear a woman’s sobs and they seemed to be pulling at him as they reverberated through his long dead heart.

Looking out into the darkness, he saw a huddled form on the sidewalk across the street. Just a tiny little thing, slumped over and crying. He knew immediately that he had to get to her and keep her safe. Why? Well, that one he couldn’t answer.
                                               
“Stay put. I’m gonna go get her off the street. Lock the door until I get her to the porch. Got it?” he demanded.

“Got it,” Dawn assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.

Spike hurried out the door, needing to get to the girl whose pained cries seemed familiar to him. As he moved closer, he could see dirt clinging to the wild mess of blonde hair obscuring her face.

Oh, God. That dress.

It couldn’t be.
                              
Quickening his pace he scented the air, certain that his mind was playing a cruel trick on him. But the unique smell of Buffy slammed into him, scorching him as he dropped to his knees in front of her and reverently whispered her name, not feeling the tears that slid down his own cheeks.
                                 
Without thinking, he wrapped her in his strong arms. She was really here. It was her, but how? She was still wearing the dress they had buried her in, but her heart was beating and her skin was warm. She was alive.

Buffy felt cool arms embrace her, scaring her. She lashed out, screaming and fighting to get away from what her slayer side warned was a vampire. A primal howl burst from her lips as she struggled in her weakened state.
                      
“Buffy, luv, calm down. It’s Spike. Not going to hurt you. Would never hurt you,” Spike soothed while trying to stop her thrashing limbs and make her recognize who he was.

As the fight drained out of her, she was finally able to comprehend what he was saying. Buffy’s body went limp, leaning into his chest and allowing him to hold her. The skin of his arms touching her was comfortingly soft, not grating like the clothes and dirt that scratched and abraded her flesh.

“We need to get in the house, pet. It ain’t safe out here,” Spike murmured against her grimy hair as he stood, cradling her to him. Intense happiness filled him. His love was alive. How or why didn’t matter as long as she was here. 
                            
Dawn watched intently from the front window as the scene played out across the street. Seeing Spike move back towards the house she ran to the door, flinging it open. Confusion filled her when she noticed that his face was marred with tears but an elated smile curved his lips. Spike hadn’t smiled since her sister died, not a real smile anyway. Just before he made it to the bottom step, Dawn heard the girl speak and listened intently.

“Why am I in hell? Why would they cast me out?” she whimpered, stopping Spike dead in his tracks as devastation wiped out the joy he’d felt.
         
“No, Buffy, not Hell. You’re home, sweetheart. Lil’ sis is right here,” Spike whispered in confusion.

“Buffy,” Dawn choked out. “Is that really Buffy?” she pleaded, quickly moving across the porch to Spike.

Upon hearing her sister’s voice, Buffy raised her head from its resting place.
           
“Oh, God. Buffy.” Dawn reached out to touch her, causing her to cry out and cower back into Spike.

“No. No. No. Not real. Not real,” Buffy chanted, keeping her eyes tightly shut. Too much. It was all too much. The carcass encasing her weighed her down. The ache of breathing and the blood pounding in her ears as it rushed through her veins was torturous, but to have her sister- the one she’d died for and found peace because of- standing before her proving that she was once again of this world broke her completely. 

“Nibblet, I don’t think she knows where she is. We’ve gotta get her inside and cleaned up,” Spike said, starting up the stairs only to be stopped once again by Dawn.
                          
“What’s wrong with her hands? Why are they all cut up and bleeding, Spike?” she questioned.

“She was buried, bit.” It was the only explanation he could force past the constricting lump in his throat. He wanted to scream at the injustice of her having to dig her way out. Why couldn’t he have been there to help her? Maybe it would’ve lessened the confusion and pain she was battling now if he’d been there.

Spike carried Buffy inside and up to the bathroom, placing her on the closed toilet lid as Dawn went to Buffy’s bedroom to collect some clean comfortable clothes for her. Coming back in the room with Spike, she saw that he’d started to clean the wounds on her hands while running water into the bath.
                                     
Buffy stared blankly ahead of her. She’d retreated into her mind in an attempt to shut out the hellish reality surrounding her. She felt Spike cleaning her hands, she heard him talking to Dawn, but at that moment, nothing made sense. It was too much of an effort to understand any of it anyway.

“Dawn, I’m gonna help you get her undressed and put her in the tub. Then I’ll wait outside the door while you wash her. When you’re done, I’ll help you get her out,” Spike expounded, knowing his bit wasn’t strong enough to manage these tasks on her own.
                                                                 
Careful not to startle Buffy, he began to remove the grungy dress, keeping his eyes fixed on her face for any signs of fear as well as making a point to keep his eyes from wandering to certain parts of her they shouldn’t. Slowly lifting her up, he walked to the bath and gently lowered her. When the water touched her bare skin she flinched and a small sob tumbled from her clenched lips. Her pained cry worried Spike, causing him to raise her up again.

“Bit, is the water too hot?” he fretted.

“No, it’s just right,” she assured him, placing her hand in it.
                             
Again he gradually eased Buffy down in the water, giving her time to get used to it, before turning and leaving Dawn to the washing up.

Once the door was closed, he leaned against its frame, letting go of the hold he had on his tears. For so long he’d dreamed of having Buffy back. He was ecstatic, but also scared out of his bloody mind. Her agony hung palpably in the air, gripping at his heart. He knew they had to find out exactly what had happened to her, desperately wanting to end the pain she was in.
                                       
Even smeared with dirt and smelling of the dank, moldy earth, she was more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. Letting go of the grief that once threatened to overwhelm him, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring the light back into her eyes. Tonight, though, he would simply have to settle for making her as comfortable as possible.

“Spike, I need your help to get her out, now,” Dawn called, bringing him abruptly out of his contemplations.
           
Quietly, he opened the door, walking directly to the bathtub and bending down. He cautiously put one arm behind her shoulders and the other under her knees, trying not to alarm her as he lifted her limp body out and set her down on the towel-draped floor.
                                                                       
Dawn immediately went to work, drying her quickly and helping her into her clothes. After several attempts from Dawn to get Buffy to lift her leg so that she could slip on her panties and sweat pants, Spike took control, forcibly bending each knee.

Standing stiffly in the center of the room, eyes fixated vacantly on the wall in front of her, Buffy made no move to help dress herself nor did she utter a sound. She knew what they wanted from her, but she didn’t care. Why should she help them put her in something that scored her flesh? 
                      
“I think we should try and brush her hair before…” Dawn began just as the loud noises of the other Scoobies coming into the house filled their ears, making Buffy wince back with a grimace on her face.

“Stay here with big sis while I go see what they want. Don’t think she’s up to them just yet,” Spike told Dawn as he slipped out the door. He found it hard to leave Buffy’s presence even for a few moments, but he wasn’t about to let that bunch have at her yet.

Downstairs, Willow fidgeted with the electrifying magics that still surged through her body as Xander called out for Spike and Dawn. Anya had caught a glimpse of Buffy running down the street and knew right away it wasn’t the bot. They needed the resident vamp to go sniff out their best friend and bring her home.

“Bloody hell, what’s wrong with you people. Trying to wake the dead? Sounded like a herd ‘f  Fyarl demons comin’ through the door. And what’s with all the hollerin’?” Spike asked halfway down the stairs.
                            
“Look bleached wonder, we need your help. Have you seen Buffy tonight?” Xander questioned, not wanting to just blurt out what they’d done.

Upstairs, Buffy listened intently to what was going on below her. The young woman retreated further into herself as her stronger slayer side pushed forward. ‘Are you listening to them? They’re talking about you down there. And how would they know you’re back if they didn’t have something to do with it?’

‘No, my friends wouldn’t do that to me. They love me,’ she argued with herself, but as more words floated up to her she knew they were to blame. Buffy the girl shut down, letting the aggressive inner slayer take over.
                                  
Finally comprehending that Red and the others had somehow managed to bring the slayer back to life, Spike stood there, mouth agape and staring at the group in front of him. Before he could make his mouth work again, a shriek and thundering feet flew past him on the steps. Without hesitation, Buffy launched herself at Willow. The force behind her attack took both women to the ground as she wrapped her hands around Willow’s throat. Deadly intent filled her eyes as she began to squeeze.

“How could you do this to me? You’re supposed to be my friend! How could you force me back into this hell?” she screamed, ignoring the others as they tried to pull her off her friend. Her only thoughts were to make them pay for what they’d done. 

Chapter Two
Splintering Duality

Everyone stood frozen for a moment. The sight of Buffy choking the life from her friend and the hatred that shone in her eyes was scarier than any beast they’d ever come up against. Especially since she seemed to know exactly what she was doing.

Moving quickly, Spike grabbed the feral slayer around the waist with one hand while the other tried to pry her fingers from Willow’s neck. No matter what was wrong with Buffy, he had to keep her from hurting anyone. She’d never be able to forgive herself once she’d recovered from wherever she’d been. 

“Let me go!” Buffy screamed. “She deserves to die.”

“No, Slayer…Buffy, she’s your friend. Whatever’s wrong we’ll fix it and get through it.” Spike tried to calm her as he forcefully held her arms at her sides, keeping her from doing anyone else harm. He was surprised by the ferocity and rage pouring from the tiny girl struggling against him with all her might as she glared at the young witch. Carefully, Spike turned her around so she was facing him instead of Willow, cutting off her view of what seemed to be causing the trouble. He knew he needed to calm the Slayer down and find out what was going on. 

Buffy fought against Spike as hard as she could, but there wasn’t enough strength left in the newly revived muscles to break free. Realizing she couldn’t get away, Buffy went limp in his arms and began to wail her frustration. Agonized cries filled the house as she crumpled into Spike’s arms, burying her face in his chest and sobbing relentlessly.
                                                 
“What the hell did you do to her, Spike? She wouldn’t be attacking us if you hadn’t done something. If she was going to hurt anyone, it’d be you,” Xander bellowed, holding a weakly crying Willow protectively close.

Anya and Tara cowered behind Xander through the entire debacle, unsure what might have caused the horror that tonight was turning out to be. Only a few hours prior, they’d been happy as everything fell into place to bring their friend and protector back. Now, it was clear something must have gone seriously wrong.

Clinging to Xander, Willow struggled for air as Buffy’s words kept repeating in her head. Buffy said she deserved to die. Why was she still so horribly tormented? Did she still believe she was lost in the hell dimension? Maybe after some rest to clear her mind and a few days to let the swelling go down, she could do a forgetting spell on the slayer.
                                         
No one noticed the visibly upset teen standing frozen on the stairs. And why should they? They had virtually ignored her all summer, content to leave her in the vampire’s care while they did whatever they wanted.

Dawn couldn’t believe what was happening. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. They should all be celebrating Buffy’s return. Instead her sister had been strangling Willow and now there were accusations and tears.

“STOP! NOW!” Dawn yelled. “What’s wrong with all of you? Buffy’s back, and yeah, she’s confused and hurting, but we don’t even know what she’s come back from yet. So back the heck off and let her be, and stop saying stupid things to Spike, ‘cause he didn’t do anything wrong! Go home so we can take care of Buffy. Let her have some peace.”

Eerie, hysterical laughter suddenly burst from the slayer. It sent chills up everyone’s spines and caused them to shrink back in fear. Lifting her head from the comfort of Spike’s tear-soaked t-shirt, she glared at all of them. “Peace? I’ll never have peace again,” she stated flatly before tearing herself from the vampire’s arms and running up the stairs to her room.

Mouths agape, they watched her flee. Each of them were filled with a sickening sense of dread that started with Buffy’s statement and continued to grow. There was something terribly wrong with their best friend. Their Buffy would never treat them this way.

The slamming of her bedroom door jarred them into action once more. “I know this is your fault somehow, Spike, and whatever you’re up to, we’ll stop you,” Xander accused, falling back on the only thing he knew. If something was wrong it had to be the evil dead guys fault, right?

“Look, dough boy, I don’t care what you think, or say, for that matter. Buffy’s hurtin’ and I won’t let any of you do or say anything to make it worse. She needs rest and quiet right now, and if you can’t do that then get the bloody hell outta this house.” Spike’s hushed voice made his statement more threatening than if he’d been in full game face and yelling at them.
                           
“You can’t tell us what to do. Buffy hates you, and as soon as she realizes you’re making decisions for her, she’ll kick your ass good,” Xander scoffed.

Spike gave Xander a look that quite literally chilled his blood. “Oh, but it’s alright for you lot to make decisions for her, isn’t it?” he taunted derisively.

“This is my house, Xander Harris, and I want all of you out now,” Dawn commanded. “You saw what happened with Buffy just a few minutes ago. We found her outside, crying and making no sense, covered in dirt, and her hands were cut up. We were trying to get her cleaned up when you morons busted in here, so listen real good to what I’m saying. SPIKE. DID. NOTHING. TO. HURT. BUFFY.” They all cringed at her shrill tone. “In fact, he seems to be the only one she’ll let close to her at the moment. He was good enough to take care of me, and now I’m letting him help me take care of her. I don’t need you here making this any worse, so get out.”

Anya and Tara moved forward, grabbing their respective partners by the arms and dragging them towards the front door as they continued to protest leaving Buffy and Dawn alone with Spike. There was nothing they could do tonight, and if this kept up, Buffy just might come back down the stairs and attack someone else.

Dawn reached for Spike’s hand as she turned and started up the stairs. “Come on. Let’s go see if there’s anything we can do to help Buffy.”

Spike’s genuine smile was something that she’d rarely seen. It made him feel good for his nibblet to take up for him against the Scoobies. They’d been around her a lot longer than he had, but she still took his side. She’d told him he was her best friend, and for the first time, he was beginning to believe she really meant it. 

@~@~@~

‘Told you they’re the ones that did this to us. Did you smell the magic pouring off Willow? I bet they didn’t even care where we were, or if we were happy or not. No, not them. It’s always been all about them and what they want. I let you be too weak about them before, but it isn’t happening again. They deserve to be punished,’ the Slayer fumed.

“You shouldn’t have done that to Willow. They may have done something terrible to us, but I can’t let you go around harming humans. Especially ones that are supposed to be my friends. I hate them for doing this, but that doesn’t give us the right to go homicidal,” Buffy whispered in her head. She’d realized that when the Slayer was in control, her pain lessened and she felt relief, if only for a few moments.

‘Listen here, little girl. I’m stronger than you, and I’m fed up. I’m not going to let them get the chance to harm either one of us again.’ Slayer let their mind fill with the misery of plunging back into their body and ripping free of the confining coffin. She knew it would stop anymore protest from her softer Buffy side and allowed the fragile girl to pull in on herself once again as the tears flowed.   

Tapping lightly on her sister’s door, Dawn softly called to her. Getting no answer except for tortured whimpers, she pushed it open slowly to peak inside the room. She was still a little afraid that Buffy might hurt her, too, but what she saw had her pulling Spike into the room as she quickly made her way to the bed. Buffy was curled up in the middle of the bed, sobbing, with fresh blood seeping from her fisted palms where her nails had dug new wounds.

Dawn could plainly see how tormented her sister was. From what, she had no idea, but she knew that they had to do something or they would lose Buffy forever. 

“Buffy,” Dawn whispered softy, touching her shoulder. Buffy pulled away, crying harder.

“Let me try, bit,” Spike said, dropping to his knees beside the bed.

“Buffy, luv. We just want to help,” he breathed, tenderly brushing the hair from her face. “It’s just me and Dawnie here. No one else.”

Buffy slowly opened her red, swollen eyes to see the only two people who hadn’t hurt her. Holding out her arms to Spike and Dawn, she started to beg, “It hurts. It hurts too much. Can’t live like this. Please, please make it stop.”

The two of them wrapped their arms around Buffy. Holding her tight between them, they rocked gently back and forth, trying to calm her with comforting words and caresses.  Finally, she quieted and her eyelids slowly slid closed. Dawn went to go get the first aid kit from the bathroom to clean up the new gashes Buffy had created in her hands as Spike continued to hold the sleeping Slayer in his arms, terrified that if he let her go, she might vanish.

When that task was finished, Spike moved her so that Dawn could pull back the sheet on the bed and then gently laid her down, tucking the blankets in around her. He was trying desperately to make her feel safe, although he didn’t know what from.

Spike continued to stare at the miracle before his eyes as Dawn quietly left to go to her own room. He still couldn’t fathom that Buffy was truly here; that somehow her little group of friends had brought her back. Unable to resist, he bent down, delicately brushing his lips across her temple before moving towards the door.

Buffy didn’t move a muscle after her tears had ceased, allowing her eyes to drift shut in feigned sleep. Her thoughts spun out of control as she tried to piece together everything that had happened. Maybe this was a hell of her own making. After all, she’d jumped into a portal to a hell dimension and what better way to completely break her than to give her the comfort and safety she’d always yearned for, then have it torn away.

Suddenly, she felt a light kiss on her temple that startled her. She held herself motionless as images of Dawn and Spike trying to help her feel safe and loved assaulted her. What reason could there be for trying to comfort and protect her if she was in hell? Then again, it might be just something else they could rip from her grasp. Another cruel twist of the knife to make the pain worse.

‘See, now you’re getting it. This isn’t real. It’s just a way to keep us docile until whoever’s in control decides it’s time to rip our heart out again. Then either Spike will turn on us and kill Dawn, forcing us to stake him, or they’ll both die in some freakishly horrible way, leaving us alone again,’ Slayer’s voice drifted through their mind.

“I guess you could be right, but how do we stop it and how do we get out of here? If we’re in some other dimension from jumping into that portal, how are we going to make it back home?” Buffy questioned her other half.

‘We fight, just like we always do. We kill these evil assholes and find a way out. I’m sure there’s gotta be something pointing the way home, and knowing how things normally work it’s probably right under our nose,’ Slayer told her. She was growing more tired of her whiney, girly side by the minute.

“Wait. What do you mean kill them? The only people we’ve seen are our friends. We can’t kill them,” Buffy protested, careful to keep her voice low.

‘They’re not our friends. I bet if we could see their true faces, it’d be some slimy, ugly demons with horns, or pus dripping, or something,’ Slayer argued. This was getting ridiculous. Couldn’t the girl see that they all deserved to die? It didn’t really matter to her if they were in hell or if they were back in their own house, she just wanted the ones who caused this torture dead in a very bloody way.

“Okay, I get your point, but I don’t think I can kill the ones with Dawn and Spike’s faces, even if they are demons. Maybe if I caught them looking like they really do, or if they betrayed me, giving away their true nature…not acting like my sister and Spike? I can handle the others, sure, because my friends would never do to me what these freaks have. I know they aren’t who they pretend to be, but so far the other two are exactly like the Spike and Dawnie I know,” Buffy whispered softly. And what was up with that, anyway? She’d never physically talked to her slayer side like it was another person. Maybe this place had given them both a voice.

‘Look, you don’t need to worry about any of it. I’ll take control when the time comes and I’ll make sure the job gets done. You’ve always been too weak and worthless. If it wasn’t for me, you’d have been dead long ago. Now, shut up and go to sleep. We’re gonna need the rest to take on Hell,’ Slayer snidely remarked.

“Fine, but no going after my sister or Spike until I say. Got it?” Buffy tried to sound more confident and in control than she actually felt. At least she knew that when her slayer half took over, the crushing despair she was still reeling from would stop, if only for a brief moment.

‘Sure, whatever you want,’ Slayer told her and then fell silent, leaving Buffy to feel alone. Fear and anguish seeped into her bones as she cried out her pain, fighting to stay awake. Her newly risen body’s exhaustion took hold, even as she struggled to keep her eyes open, and she slipped off into an uneasy sleep. 

@~@~@~

Propped against the wall beside Buffy’s bedroom door, Spike contemplated down to the slightest detail everything that had happened in the last few of hours, including the Slayer’s behavior. There was more wrong with her mentally than having to dig herself out of the ground. The Buffy he knew was strong, both mentally and physically. Escaping a hell dimension, suddenly finding herself buried alive and having to tear her way through the earth would definitely be unsettling and fear inspiring, but his girl would never attack a friend for getting her out, no matter how confused or hurting she was. Nor would she continue to utter things about never having peace again or being forced out and into Hell.

The only thing that made sense as her words assaulted Spike’s mind was the one horrifying truth he didn’t want to face.

Heaven.

Chapter Three
Darkness Falls

This wasn’t her house, but then again it was. It felt like her house. She knew it had to be hers, but it didn’t look like hers. Oh, well, that’s the way things worked sometimes, she thought to herself as she sat on a strange yet familiar couch watching TV with Dawn and Spike.

The front door slamming open behind her caused her to jump as she heard someone that sounded like her screaming.

“She’s coming! We have to fortify the house. She can’t get in. If she gets in, we’ll all be taken somewhere we don’t wanna go. I’m not letting her do it again. Never again!” the muddied, feral looking blonde commanded. Wait…it was her yelling, but not her. Slayer her. The other half.

Buffy leapt from the couch, grabbing the axe conveniently resting against the side of the sofa. Hefting it over her shoulder, she stepped up to her other half and slowly they merged together as one.

“Who’s comin’, Slayer?” Spike asked, standing as he reached for Dawn and shoved her behind him protectively.

“The witch,” two voices proclaimed from within Buffy, one snarling in anger and the other quivering like a frightened child.

Moving quickly, Buffy began locking everything up tight. When she finally reached the last room, she paused before the large, sliding glass door. Looking off into the backyard, she could see…something. Something that glowed bright orange with flames of red that drifted ever closer. Maniacal laughter filled her ears, blocking out the blond vampire’s curses as the specter floated nearer, until the image created from the horrifying light show cleared enough to see the young woman at its center.

Willow. Young, naïve Willow. The girl she first met upon moving to Sunnydale, but not her. The sinister gleam in her eyes and the demented laughter pouring from her lips told Buffy that this was something desperate, a force that was both controlling and powerful. She felt a horror she had never before known in all of her years as the slayer.

“Come out and face me, little girl. If you come out, no one else has to die. My power is all reaching. All consuming. You can’t hide in there forever. Soon, I’ll be able to come in and kill you all, if you don’t do as I say and come out now,” Willow cackled as the veins below her milky skin turned coal black, the obsidian darkness bleeding into the green of her eyes.

Buffy chewed her lip bloody, staring blindly at the ghastly figure that continued to hover just outside her door. If she didn’t go out there, if she didn’t do what it wanted, then it would surely kill her sister and Spike. She couldn’t allow that. Death was her gift and sacrificing herself didn’t matter. She was already in Hell anyway. At least now she knew her friends weren’t her friends. They were some form of hallucination or demon this hell dimension had conjured up to inflict the most extreme amount of torture and torment on her that they could. Dawnie and Spike were her only soft spot in this place. They might not be real either, but they were gentle and caring compared to all the other things that made her bleed, cutting into her flesh and making her cry out silently inside.

‘You will listen to me, Buffy, and listen good. I’m the one with all the strength in this body and I’m not going to allow you to sacrifice us to a new kind of hell. Do you hear me? Give over and let me take control. I know how to stop her. I know what’s best for us, and I’m not letting you wimp out on the threat of death to Spike and Dawn,’ Slayer growled, forcing her will onto her weaker half.

A loud crash and howling from the living room startled Buffy into motion, running into the room before she realized she’d even moved. A sweaty man in a filthy white wife beater t-shirt clung to her vampire’s back, bashing him in the head with what appeared to be a small statue of Seven of Nine from Voyager.

Quickly, she swung her axe, the blunt side striking the back of the man’s head and causing his grip to falter. He fell in the floor, brown eyes filled with hurt and accusation staring up at her before he whined, “Buffy, he’s just a soulless, evil thing. Life would be better if he was gone and you know it.”

Lifting the axe above her head and giving full reign to Slayer, she sliced through the redneck parody that wore her friends face. She watched as it melted into a puddle of slimy, grey goo on the floor before the insane laughter reached her ears once again.

“What’s wrong, Buff? Can’t handle seeing your Xander-shaped puppy for what he truly is? Afraid to look upon all that hate he holds inside of him, simmering until one day he explodes? You know he never cared for Angel, and watching Spike take care of you better than he ever could has him seething with rage. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps. Now, come out and face me. See if you can stop what’s to come,” Willow taunted, moving closer until her face was almost pressing against the glass separating them.

Smoke began to surround the flame-encased witch as shrieking giggles filled the air and she disappeared from sight. Following the sound around to the side of the house, Slayer came to a long hallway and walked towards the unsettling noise that reverberated in her head. The hall seemed to go on to infinity, when suddenly there was a row of clothes hanging in front of her as if she were in a closet. Shoving them to the side, she found a stacked washer and dryer and a door leading outside.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” the sweet voice of her best friend sing-songed from the other side.

Slayer pushed open the door with her axe at the ready.

“Time to die, little Buffy.” Willow smiled, just as Slayer swung, decapitating her in one deft swoop.

“I don’t think so, bitch.”

@~@~@~

Buffy was jerked from her dream by the chilling image of Willow’s head rolling across the ground. Sitting stiffly in the middle of her bed, she pondered every aspect of the images that had assaulted her sleeping state.

One thing she knew was it had been prophetic. Her normal, everyday dreams never stuck so clearly in her mind upon opening her eyes to a new day. They were more of the blurry, it was a good dream or it was a bad nightmare feeling, but this one…well, it was still running in vivid detail, replaying like some demented movie.

What could it mean, other than what she already suspected? After a week of being back in her home, her sister and one annoying vampire up her butt twenty four hours a day, and hearing the arguments at the door, or over the phone whenever one of her so-called friends tried to demand their Buffy-time, she was certain this wasn’t her own dimension. It couldn’t be with the way everyone was acting.

Dawnie was too sweet and worried constantly that Buffy might need something. Spike was gentle and kind, but withdrawn, and not the snarky big bad she was used to. Her friends came by, acting like she was a piece of property and demanding that Dawn let them get Spike away from her and her sister; telling Dawn over and over he was the reason she hadn’t returned to normal, yet.

Normal. There was no such thing as normal in this insane dimension. In the beginning, they gave her what she always wanted—peace, love, and no more slaying. Now it was all gone. It was nothing more than a delusion created for maximum pain. One she and Slayer would have to fight. Buffy was beginning to think it would have been better to have just let the portal open and fight the demons that came through until they were torn limb from limb instead of jumping. Jumping had given them power over her.

‘See, once you were able to wrap your head around the fact that this isn’t home, the idea of fighting our way out has gotten so much easier for you, hasn’t it? I know all the warm, fuzzy feelings you have for your friends, your little sis, and even that vampire. You’ve subjected me to them long enough, but now that you’ve finally opened your little girl eyes to really look at the world around you, there is no denying these people aren’t your friends or your family,’ Slayer whispered. She could hear them all downstairs, talking about the two of them like they were crazy.

“I know you’re right. I’ve been in denial land trying to pretend that everything was going to be okay, but it’s not unless we can get out of here and back home. If we run, though, with all of them around, they’ll catch us. The others are probably waiting outside for us to make a move or ask them in so they can hurt us,” Buffy whimpered. She knew they were going to have to plan everything down to the last detail, but her and planning? Not so mix-y.

‘Yeah, yeah, I know. We have to take it a little slower than I’d like. You know, pick them off one or two at a time. But the only way we’ll be able to do that is if you do what I say. We’ve gotta start trying to act better. Pretend we aren’t devastated. You know, put on a fake front for Spike and Dawn so they think we’re getting over the pain. Not too fast, though, ‘cause then they’d suspect something and I know you won’t let me take them down first,’ Slayer hissed in her ear.

She wasn’t going to tell the sniveling girl that the dream she’d had had shown them something more than what Buffy thought. No, she wouldn’t let on that the glow around Willow and the black eyes, veins, and hair meant the girl was drowning in black magic. Nor would she tell her that the redneck-looking Xander was a way of showing he was drenched in hate. If Buffy found out these things, she might decide they weren’t in another dimension and stop her from killing the miserable scum that did this to them. They had to die.

“Okay. What do we do first?” Buffy asked.

‘First of all, we’re going to take a shower before someone comes up here wanting to know if we need our butt wiped for us, since we haven’t done anything on our own since we got here. Then, we’re going downstairs to see what we can find for breakfast. And you’re going to eat instead of pushing food around on your plate like you have been, do you understand what I’m saying? It’ll make them think we’re getting better. We don’t have to even say more than ‘hi’ and ‘can I get something to eat.’ No reason to act happy or bubbly, just show up and let them see us trying to get back to normal,’ Slayer advised.

“I’m ready,’ Buffy replied, scooting off the bed and heading for the bathroom.

@~@~@~

“Have you figured out where Buffy was or what happened to make her act so freaky yet, Spike?” Dawn asked as she got the juice from the fridge. Spike had found all the ingredients to make her favorite breakfast of pancakes with eggs.

“’Fraid not, pint size. I’ve read all the books I could find with any reference to Glorificus in it to see where she might’ve been, but I came up empty-handed.” Frustration was evident in Spike’s voice.

He couldn’t tell her what he knew to be truth. Sitting outside the Slayer’s bedroom night after night, listening to her fractured words and whimpered cries, he knew exactly where she’d been and what had been taken from her. How could he tell his lil’ bit that her sister had been torn out of Heaven? How could he ever help his beloved when he didn’t know that kind of tranquility himself?

“It’s okay, Spike. We’ll just have to work harder to make her better. It’s only been a week.” Dawn filled his mug with blood and popped it in the microwave.

A week. He knew it was going to take a lot more than a few weeks to help Buffy. It would probably be several years before she stopped feeling the loss of such peace so intensely. Sighing, he mixed the batter for Dawn’s pancakes and tried to think of things that might be comforting to his Slayer. The more calming aspects of her life might help more than anything else. It was one reason he and Dawn tried to be so quiet and soft-spoken around her. If they were tender enough- treated her gently- maybe she would come back to them a whole Buffy. Not the shattered thing that sat in her room, refusing to eat and having to be forced to shower every couple of days.

What if she never is the Buffy you knew and loved ever again? Spike asked himself while contemplating the bubbles forming on the top of the pancake he was cooking. Doesn’t matter. She’s still Buffy. Even if she never recovers, I’ll always take care of her and love her and niblet.

Footsteps on the second floor brought him out of his ruminations, and he tilted his head to stare at the ceiling. He heard the shower come on and a smile split his face when he realized his girl had left her room of her own free will. Maybe things would slowly get better after all.

Chapter Four
Deadly Passivity

4 weeks later

Buffy lay in her dark room contemplating everything around her. Time continued to pass and Buffy’s heart broke a little more with each passing day. She kept up the façade and did as Slayer instructed, going about a daily routine and talking in small bursts to her housemates. Pretending, playing a game to see who could come out the victor. She knew she had to be the winner, or be trapped in this abysmal place for eternity. These evil creatures wouldn’t kill her. That would only serve to take away their fun watching her struggle as she tried to stay sane.

The demons who wore her friend’s faces still stopped by. She had even talked to them once, making it clear that in no way was Spike hurting her. The proof was in the small smile she gave them. Gullible nothings, the lot of them, including the ones that looked like her sister and her vampire. They really believed the lies she told.

Buffy was positive that none of them were who they claimed to be. It was all one big masquerade. Spike was still too passive and Dawn still too helpful. Although when she looked into the vampire’s eyes, sometimes she caught glimpses that looked like the love and adoration the Spike in her world always let slip. To her, it just meant they were really good at their efforts to turn her into the docile lamb awaiting her own slaughter.

The defining moment was when the imposter Spike let slip that he knew she’d been in Heaven, and that he was there if she needed to talk. She’d never made the mistake of letting those words reach her lips, let alone come out. It was another one of their tactics to try and draw her out and endear her to this thing that wore the face of someone who’d loved her, so that they might claw her open again and watch her bleed.

Slayer’s plan was working, although she had doubted it in the beginning. Spike had begun going out every night in the last week, saying it was to patrol. No longer was he afraid to leave her alone with the imitation of her sister. When she’d first come here, he wouldn’t leave, but for an hour or two.

Soon she would get her chance. She could feel it, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.

@~@~@~

There was something niggling away at the back of his mind. Most days it gave him a migraine, and only when he stopped and seriously pondered his fears did it ease.

Something was wrong with Buffy.

She seemed to be improving a little each week, doing more and saying more, but there was something off. Something he just couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe it was because in the last few days, she seemed almost happy. It felt like too much, too soon. Or maybe he was just projecting his own uncertainty onto her.

Why was he having trouble accepting a sometimes smiling Buffy instead of the ghost of a girl with a broken spirit?

That was what scared him the most. What kept him awake most days and forced him to sit against her bedroom door each night. He worried that maybe she thought killing herself was the answer, and once she’d decided to do it, she was happier, and was only waiting for the right moment.

That couldn’t be it. He knew his Buffy, and it had to be something else. She wouldn’t take her own life, no matter how bad things were. There had to be another reason for her strange behavior, and as soon as she was comfortable enough, she’d talk to him or Dawn about it. Spike decided he needed to stop thinking up the worst case scenarios and get on with his day. After all, tonight would be the big test.

@~@~@~

Dawn walked into the kitchen to find Buffy staring at a glass of orange juice. The nothingness in her eyes had the teenager worried that maybe her sister had taken a step back in her progress.

“Hey, Buffy,” she said, wanting to get some kind of reaction out of the girl and wipe away the dead glare.

“Oh, hey Dawn.” Buffy jumped, turning towards the sink to dump out the glass. “Sorry, I guess I was off in another world there for a minute,” Buffy stammered, trying to stop the pounding of her heart that came with almost being caught talking to Slayer in her head.

“You’re okay though, right?” Dawn questioned. Maybe she shouldn’t be going to Janice’s to spend the night after all. Buffy might need her while Spike was out killing things.

“I’m fine, really. Just a little tired,” Buffy sighed giving this fake in front of her a sad smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I was thinking about going to Janice’s tonight to hang out. Spike said it was cool with him if it was with you, but I could stick around here if you want. We could do all that sisterly stuff we haven’t done in a while. I could even bust out all the nail polish I’ve got and we could mix our own colors.” Dawn smiled too brightly, trying to sound perky, desperate to prove that she didn’t need a break from the morbidity her sister’s presence left her feeling.

“Nah, you go and have some fun. You’ve been cooped up in the house with your oh-so-depressing sister too long already. I’ll be alright, and I’m sure Spike will find a way to keep me from being too bored,” Buffy replied. This was exactly what she and Slayer had been waiting for. Hopefully Spike would still go on ‘patrol,’ even if only for a short while, and her ‘friends’ would leap at the chance to come have quality Buffy time.

“You sure? It’s no big deal and we could always torture Spike with a girlie movie night,” Dawn offered once again, although her heart wasn’t in it.

“I’m positive. You need some time to be with your best friend. I’m not glass, you know. I can deal with one night of being at home alone,” Buffy told her, careful to keep her tone flat instead of leaping around the kitchen like she wanted to.

A little squeal of happiness burst from Dawn as she jumped forward to hug her sister close. She couldn’t suppress the excitement that bubbled to the surface. A night to herself, a chance to do whatever she wanted and not worry how it would affect her sibling. Since her sister’s miraculous return, she hadn’t allowed herself to be anything but kind and caring, making sure there was no strain put on Buffy. Now, she was finally getting a night to be like all her friends- a self-indulgent teen.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Dawn gushed, not noticing how rigid Buffy’s body was in her embrace.

“You’re welcome. Maybe you should go get your things together. I know how long it takes you to decide what you want to take over there,” Buffy answered, awkwardly patting her on the back before extricating herself from the girl’s arms. No, not a girl, a demon. If the plan was going into action tonight, she’d have to keep reminding herself of that. Slayer definitely wouldn’t let her forget.

“Okay,” Dawn agreed, kissing her on the cheek before bounding up the stairs to do just that.

Buffy slumped onto a barstool and laid her head down on her crossed arms. The Dawn creature had acted so much like her sister in those last few moments that her insides were twisted in knots and she started having second thoughts. Maybe she could kill the others and get away without having to hurt the one who looked so much like Dawnie.

‘Keep thinking like that girlie, and we’ll be trapped here forever. Is that what you want? To be stuck in this dimension forever? Never knowing when they might take these false images of your loved ones away,’ Slayer taunted. She had to get the girl back on track before all was lost to stupid emotions that had no place here.

“No, but I don’t think I can hurt her. Didn’t you see her just now? She was my Dawn, all with the wanting to be with her friends, squealing when I told her to go, and racing out of here to get her stuff. Isn’t there a way we can make a run for it without having to do anything to her?” Buffy pleaded with her slayer side.

‘Yeah, and we may as well roll over and show them just how fragile you are. Oh, and while we’re at it, die for the demon scum too!’ Slayer raged. ‘We either do this or we don’t. There’s no middle ground when you’re in Hell.’

“I know. It’s so hard to remember they aren’t my family sometimes, though,” Buffy muttered. They weren’t home. She knew that, but knowing it didn’t make it any easier.

‘I’m gonna be doing all the hard work anyway. I don’t know why you’re so squeamish about it. It’s not like you’ll be the one taking them down when the time comes,’ Slayer grumbled. She was so tired of Miss Goody-Goody and was itching to start the bloodshed.

@~@~@~

Sitting on the couch, pretending to watch TV, Buffy held her hands stiffly in her lap as she listened to the imposters getting ready to go out. He was actually going to leave her alone for at least an hour or two as he walked fake Dawn to Janice’s and did a quick sweep of the closest cemetery.

When she heard Spike coming back into the living room she forced her body to relax, hoping she looked natural.

“You sure you’re ready for this, luv?” he asked with a furrowed brow. Worry was evident in every tense line of his body.

“Spike, I’ll be okay. You’ll only be gone for a little bit. I think I can handle vegging on the couch, and if I get hungry, I know how to make a sandwich,” Buffy placated, keeping her mind and heart rate calm. Demons could sense things like that and she couldn’t show any signs of nervousness or fear. He might stick around if he thought something was off.

“Right.” Spike turned towards the stairs, his mind screaming at him to blow everything else off and stay. If he did, though, it might make things worse and have her thinking no one trusted her. “Niblet, if you’re goin’, you better get yourself down here now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Dawn replied sarcastically, bouncing down the stairs and walking over to hug Buffy. “If you need me, just call, ‘kay?”

“Yup, now go. Have fun,” Buffy commanded giving her one of her ‘I’m not happy, but I’m okay’ smiles.

“I’ll be back real quick like, Slayer,” Spike told her with a pointed look as he opened the door and followed Dawn out into the night.

As soon as they were completely out of sight, Buffy leapt from her seat and grabbed the phone.

It was time.

Chapter Five
Love You to Death

“Hi, Willow. It’s me, Buffy.” Slayer spoke softly to the red head on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Buffy. How’s everything been lately?” Willow’s thrilled voice asked.

“Fine. Dawn went to spend the night at a friend’s and Spike’s out on patrol. Do you want to come hang out for a little while?” She grinned manically as she listened to the enthusiasm coming from the other girl.

“Definitely. Tara and I can be there in ten minutes,” Willow excitedly told her.

“No! I…what I mean is, I’m really not up to being around everyone else yet. I’d rather it be just you and me, okay? I wanted a little time alone with my best friend.” Slayer scrambled to cover the harshness in her voice.

“Oh, sorry sweetie. I didn’t mean to upset you. Hearing your voice got me a little excited and Tara won’t mind spending a few hours without me. I’ll be over there soon.” Willow backpedaled hoping Buffy wouldn’t revoke the invitation. The two of them hadn’t spent any time together since before the Slayer had leapt to her death, and the young witch would take whatever Buffy could give.

“I’ll see you in ten minutes then. Bye.” Hanging up the phone, Slayer quickly dialed her other so-called best friend and proceeded to feed him the same lies, making sure to detour him long enough with the need for pizza, sodas, and a movie to get the first job done before he arrived.

Slayer went up to fake Spike’s bedroom. The one that in her reality had been her mother’s. The vampire had moved her weapon’s chest there soon after she arrived, and she needed a nice, sharp dagger from it. Something that could be concealed easily from the demons that would soon be setting themselves up for the kill.

Her Spike never would have kept the tools she needed to fight evil away from her like this creature did. In her mind, the monster’s slip only solidified the fact she was in some other dimension and not her own home.

Opening her chest, Slayer found it to be well organized, something Buffy would never do, filled with many items that glinted in the dim light, showing how well polished they were. There was a huge assortment as always, but some of the weapons stuck out like a sore thumb, they were so unrecognizable. She knew they weren’t hers. Had never been hers.

Why was it that whoever was in charge of this world could make these things that were supposed to be her loved ones so close to the real thing, but not get every item in her weapon’s chest right? It must have been deemed as an unimportant detail in their grand scheme to destroy her, especially since it had been purposefully removed from her sight and she wasn’t supposed to be searching it anyway. Never once did it cross her mind that maybe Spike had added a few of his own weapons to her arsenal.

Digging around in it she found a wicked looking dagger with a nice black leather sheath, sharpened to perfection, and with what appeared to be a warrior type woman carved into the handle. It would readily strap to her lower calf, hiding it from prying eyes. How ironic that she’d be killing these THINGS with one of their own weapons. Well, if she needed the sharp edge, anyway.

From the first moment the plan was conceived, Slayer had dreamt of ripping them to shreds with her bare hands. With the gruesome images that played in her head, genuine laughter bubbled from her lips for the first time since her paradise had been so cruelly taken.

After securing the blade to her lower leg and making sure it wasn’t able to be seen, the Slayer turned and left the bedroom with a demented grin splitting her features. Reaching the stairs, the chime of the doorbell increased her heart rate.

Ahh, her first victim had arrived.

@~@~@~

Willow couldn’t believe Buffy had finally called her. Standing outside the door to 1630 Revello Drive, the witch bounced from heel to toe as she heard the obvious sound of someone coming to answer the bell. Maybe tonight would see the beginning of a friendship rekindled, she thought as the door was suddenly thrown open and a very excited Slayer stood before her grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, Will, come on in,” Slayer giggled with jubilant anticipation of what was to come. “Hope you’re prepared for a night of girlie fun.”

Willow was shocked to see an excited, smiling Buffy standing before her, especially compared to the sad creature she’d seen the last time she’d forced Spike to let her and Xander in. It seemed Dawn and Spike really had been just the cure Buffy needed, and Willow silently thanked the Powers for the two people she would have casually dismissed at any other time.

“Phooey, I forgot to bring any kind of snackage,” Will joked as her soul was filled with hope and warmth for the first time since she’d resurrected her friend. She never noticed the crazed gleam in Slayer’s eyes as the woman turned towards the living room, leading the way, nor could she keep her mouth shut. “It’s so awesome to see you looking happy. We’ve all missed Bouncy Buffy.”

Hearing those words did something to Buffy the girl, who’d so far been hiding behind the feral Slayer, unwilling to face the carnage she knew was about to happen. She wasn’t okay! She wasn’t happy! She was in constant agony from the weight of being in this dimension and knowing what she had to do just to be able to escape. She was in Hell!

The girl snapped, and Slayer gleefully handed over the reins of their shared body. Twisting quickly, Buffy grabbed the redhead, slamming her into the nearest wall and letting go of the pent up resentment and anger.

“Bouncy Buffy?” the girl screamed as one strong arm pinned Willow’s shoulders to the wall and the other came up to grasp the witch’s throat. “Bouncy Buffy died the day I woke up in this hell dimension! How dare you evil, soulless things wear the faces of my friends, pretend to be worried about me, fill the air around me with your lies until I’m choking on them! All for your own entertainment; to watch as I break a little more each day, and laugh at my torment!” she raged before her voice dropped to a quiet tone that scared the young witch more than anything in her life ever had.

“There’s just one thing you all seem to have forgotten. I’m the Slayer. I’m the only Slayer to take down a hell god. I’m stronger and more resilient than you could ever imagine. Nothing will stop me from getting out of here. Not the masks you wear. Not the fake concern. I will rip each and every one of you into tiny pieces and do it with a smile on my face to get back home. And I think starting with you was Slayer’s best idea ever.”

Willow’s eyes widened and her head whirled as she tried to understand what the hate-filled girl cutting off her airway was talking about. Why would Buffy think she was in a different dimension?

“I can see it in your eyes, you know, that brain of yours calculating how to get the upper hand. You know where you demons slipped up? How I knew this wasn’t my home?” Buffy asked through gritted teeth.

Willow shook her head negatively, thinking that if she knew what was going on inside her friend’s mind, she might be able to show her that she was home, that she was loved, and that they’d do whatever it took to make her better.

“When all of you body snatchers let it slip that you’d resurrected me, trying to destroy me with the so called betrayal of my friends. They would never do that to me. Never tear me out of Heaven, take me from the only peace I’d ever known, force me back into a life I hated, and leave me in this cesspool to rot.”

Buffy continued to rant and Willow finally understood everything she’d done with her magic. She’d taken her best friend, her sister, from an eternity of peace for her own selfish needs and the want of praise for her power. With this knowledge, a devastated Willow decided whatever Buffy did to her now could only bring relief from the grief threatening to swallow her whole.

“I was going to let Slayer do all the dirty work, because you all look so much like the ones I love, but thankfully, you showed your true colors with that little ‘Bouncy Buffy’ comment. Now, I’m more than ready to take out the trash.”

With the last word, Buffy’s hand shot up with lightening speed, spearing through the witches gut and forcing its way upwards to grab the young woman’s heart. The shrill agonized shriek that seemed to shred the redhead’s throat in the few seconds it lasted had Buffy laughing hysterically as she ripped the heated, spewing organ from Willow’s chest with a grin. Someone felt it. Someone knew her pain!

Quickly, the blonde grabbed up the flesh bag that sank to the floor as soon as she released it and threw it over her shoulder. She had to get ready for the next one’s arrival. It would be here soon.

@~@~@~

Xander whistled happily as he made his way up the steps to let himself in Buffy’s back door with a pizza balanced precariously in one hand and the sodas and movies in the other. He was getting a night of Buffy bond-age. Um…yeah, that didn’t even sound right in his own head. Buffy friendship fun. Maybe that was a little better. It really didn’t matter, either way. He was just happy to finally have a night of hanging out with his best friend without the unwelcome presence of her two guard dogs. He didn’t care what Buffy said, Spike had to have her under thrall, because there was no way she would pick that bleached menace over the ones who’d stood by her and helped her for years. And Dawnie…well, she was only taking his side because she was too young to know any better.

Stepping into the kitchen, he placed everything on the island and turned to go through the swinging door that connected to the living room. “Hey Buff, where you at? I brought fattening munchables and mindless entertainment.”

Rounding the corner, Xander stopped dead in his tracks. His stomach tried to force up everything he’d ever shoved into his mouth all at once.

Before him, in all its sickening glory, was the body of his best friend since childhood. Crimson streaked one side of the room and a trail of scarlet spattered across the floor to the sofa where Willow sat. She was propped up on the couch, her body slightly leaning against the arm, drenched in blood.

She was gaping open from neck to navel, as though something had torn her apart from the inside out. There was an expression of utter terror in her unseeing eyes and a silent scream twisting her cute little cupid’s bow of a mouth. The upturned hands resting in her lap cradled the heart that had been ripped from her chest.

Xander felt caught, stuck in place by the smell of Willow’s life blood covering almost every surface of the room. His mind supplied him with images of Buffy and Dawn, somewhere in the house, mutilated just as bad. The evil bastard had done it. He’d slipped his leash and taken out almost everyone Xan loved.

Suddenly, his feet could move as he screamed for Buffy and her sister, wanting desperately to hear them answer as he turned towards the stairs, determined to find them.

The vile, bleached vampire would die tonight.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Buffy’s soft voice floated to his ears just as he laid eyes on her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she giggled.

“Wha…Buffy?” He didn’t understand. Couldn’t comprehend what was staring him dead in the eyes. Dead being the keyword. Her eyes. Her smile. The giddy laughter that suddenly filled the room. Buffy wasn’t home. It wasn’t his best friend in control of the body that slowly drifted towards him.

@~@~@~

Spike froze as cold, stark fear gripped him with razor sharp talons. Blood. He could smell it. Strong, hanging in the air like an old biddy’s rose scented perfume. After a summer of fighting every night by their sides, it was unmistakable. Something had happened to the boy and the witch. Too much of their essence filled his nostrils not to know that they were dead, and he knew exactly where the scent was coming from.

Buffy had to be okay. She just had to. He didn’t smell her like he did the others. She had to be alive, or he would die with her this time. It was his fault. All his fault for leaving her alone when she was so vulnerable and couldn’t really fight back. What kind of demon had forced its way in? What had it done to the Scoobs, and was Buffy able to kill it before it got her too?

Spike took off at breakneck speed. Only a few blocks and he’d be there. Only a few seconds and he’d know the fate of his girl.

Bursting through the front door, he suddenly realized the sound he’d been trying to block from his consciousness as he stared at the body of Harris lying face down in the foyer floor, a pool of red spreading around him, and his neck turned so sharply that his eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.

Her wailing laughter.

No! No! No!

She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Not his goddess. Not his Slayer. Not his Buffy.

Slowly, he walked into the living room, confronted by the even more gruesome caricature of Willow. His girl sat in the middle of the floor, rocking back and forth, stained with the crimson testament of her sin. Her crazed mumblings echoed inside him, shaking him to his very core.

“Can’t hurt me. Won’t ever hurt me again,” the girl repeated over and over again as she snickered and sobbed at the same time.

“Buffy…oh, sweetness…what have you done?” he asked brokenly. Spike moved forward carefully, trying not to startle her. Reaching her side without incident, he moved to sit behind her, wrapping his arms around her blood soaked body as he began to whisper senseless words of comfort into her ear.

What was he supposed to do now? How could he make this right? How could he bring his girl back from something like this?

Swaying steadily, he tried to console the demolished woman with his touch as his own heart shattered. He knew she could never come back from this, no matter what he or Dawn did. Spike knew she was completely insane, and if they tried to get her the psychiatric help she needed, it would only make things worse than they were at this moment. If she ever realized what she’d done to her two best friends, to the people she loved, it would bring more misery than Buffy would ever be able to handle. There was no way she was ever coming back from this.

There was only one thing he could do to save her.

Another piece of his heart died as Spike allowed his hands to drift up to Buffy’s face, caressing her jaw tenderly.

“Buffy, luv,” he whispered as he turned her face to his. “I love you more than you or anyone will ever understand,” he vowed softly, brushing his lips against hers for the second and last time.

Faster than the human eye could see, he firmly gripped the back of her head in one hand and her chin in the other, jerking quickly. Cleanly. Mercifully.

The only sound heard over Spike’s feral howl of grief and pain was the snap of his beloved’s neck.

Epilogue
Peace

Spike drove as fast as he dared through the waning light, intent on reaching Sunnydale while the night was still young. He had so much to tell her before the dawning of the new day. He’d left his Niblet with a kiss on the cheek as the music began to play, signaling the first dance for the bride and groom as they started their new life together.

Stopping in the room that held the happy couple’s luggage, he’d placed the letter telling her goodbye inside one of her bags, and walked away forever. He’d done his duty and fulfilled his promise to the best of his ability. Soon, he’d be with his beloved at last.

One last drive. The miles melted away and he was soon nearing his final destination. Relief Spike hadn’t felt in years flooded him as the sign cheerfully welcomed him back. He might have become a shadow of the vampire he once was, but he couldn’t resist mowing it down one last time.

Parking outside the gates of her final resting place, he stepped from the car with a bouquet of spring flowers. He slowly walked across the plush grass, weaving his way through the grave stones to the most beautiful spot in the cemetery.

Her spot.

“Hello, luv,” Spike said, bending down to press a lingering kiss on the cold stone and carefully place the flowers before he stretched out beside her.

“I know it’s been a long while, pet, but I did what you asked. I kept my promise to take care of the Bit as best I could. It was so hard after…after what I… I’m so sorry, Buffy.” Broken, Spike sobbed. Doubling over into the fetal position and resting his head in his hands, he finally let go of the grief he’d kept locked inside for so many years.

He wanted so badly to explain it all. To let her know that for all intents and purposes, he had died with her that night seven years ago. How much he’d give to go back and do everything differently. Take her away. Care for her like he had Dru. How it was only the knowledge that she might one day understand exactly what she’d done to her friends, and how learning the truth would have affected her, that had left him no choice but to do the one thing he knew would give her peace.

“I did what I knew I had to, my love. I did what was best for you and lil’ sis. You wouldn’t ‘ve wanted to go on. Bloody hell, you didn’t want to go on even before that. I should’ve gotten you help, done more, but I thought me and the bit could make it better for you. Please, Buffy, please forgive me for not seein’, for not gettin’ you the help you needed. For not bein’ what you needed.”

Spike allowed is body to slowly unfurl and moved to lay face down on the grass, covering Buffy’s grave as he continued to weep with the crushing despair that had filled his every moment since he’d made that horrifying decision. No one should ever be forced to make a choice like that.

Images of that night assaulted him, drowning him in agony as he gently stroked the grass under his fingers like it was her beautiful face beneath his hands. The sight of her sitting in the middle of the devastation she’d created with her bare hands. Knowing that she would never be able to come to terms with what she’d done to her friends. Feeling torn and disgusted by the man in him who had already realized what had to be done and the demon who was awed by the beauty of her slaughter.

The crack as he’d sharply twisted her neck was the one sound he’d never been able to block from his mind and now, lying with her, it resounded like a gunshot over and over in his head. Constantly tormenting him with the memory of her life gone, her eyes dead, and her flesh growing cold under his palms as he held her tightly to him in the aftermath.

Spike would never know how he’d managed to think up a plan to keep Dawn from finding out what had taken place, or how he’d finally relinquished his hold on Buffy’s cooling body to climb to his feet and call the police. He believed it was a miracle that he hadn’t dusted from the pain that had utterly engulfed him.

He’d done it though. He’d killed the one person he loved more than himself, and then released her precious body to get up and inform the authorities of the destruction and death he’d come home from work to find in the house. He told them she was his girlfriend, and even allowed himself to call the bastards who’d broken her so badly his best friends. The cops had believed. It was Sunnydale, after all, and they never once questioned the grieving beau before them. They saw his tears, felt his anguish, and knew he had to be telling the truth.

Dawnie, poor little Dawnie, who loved him unconditionally, didn’t see the guilt in his eyes every time her sister’s name was spoken. Never believed she had a reason to give him the third degree for the lines he fed her. A demon. A demon broke in, catching Buffy and the Slayerettes unaware, and killed them before Spike could get there to save them.

He’d lived with these lies every day since then, knowing if his Bit ever found out, she would stake him herself. There were times he’d hoped she would find out and put him out of his misery. But no, he’d promised his girl to protect her sister, and even though it wasn’t the end of the world, he’d done his best for as long as he could.

“’M sorry, pet. I’m sure you’d rather hear about what’s been goin’ on with Dawn than my blubberin’.” Spike wiped a hand down his face and struggled for some semblance of control.

“After that evenin’, when we said goodbye and I put you here with all the trees and flowers, me and Niblet took off for parts unknown. I didn’t want to go too far, just in case…well, you know I couldn’t be too far away from you. Drove north for a while, came to San Francisco, and that’s where we made a place for ourselves. Dawnie found us this pretty little house in Alameda. You’d love it, sweetling. ‘S beautiful there. I had a little dosh stashed that got us the place, but knew I’d be needin’ more if I was gonna take care of a teenage girl the way you’d want, the way she deserved.

“There’s a lot of cash in demon killin’. You should’ve charged for your services, pet. I had to have it to help Dawn. Nothin’ and no one is ever gonna take away the heartache she feels from losing you again, and after watching you I knew she was gonna need more than just me to get through it. She still sees the doc we found,” Spike whispered as a crystal tear dropped from his cheek to kiss the earth beneath him. Once again he'd failed his goddess. Once again he should have been faster, more clever. Couldn't keep her from jumping off that bloody tower, couldn’t stop her stupid friends, couldn’t save her from herself.

“Dawn’s happy now. She’ll be upset when she finds my letter, but I think she always knew I’d be going away and not coming back. I think she’s been preparing herself for this for years, and her new husband, Steven, will be there to get her through it. You’d like him. He’s a good bloke, loves her so much. I know he’d die before lettin’ anything happen to her. That’s why I’m here, luv. She’s safe now, loved, and can have a happy life without Sunnyhell hangin’ over her head. I kept my promise, or at least what I could of it, and now I can rest. I can stay with you.”

Feeling the tingle of day almost upon him, he waited, hoping to be able to greet his love again when the sun crested the horizon.

Spike replayed all the moments he had danced with her. Her graceful moves as they fought, like his own private poem to enjoy. Her bravery in battle as she taunted him with the quips that first had him wanting to kill her, and then to kiss that annoying mouth just to get her to shut up. The rich laughter he was privy to on the odd occasion she’d been happy in his presence. Even the way the sunlight had glinted off her hair the one day he’d had in the light with her. His mind pieced together every scene of her life he was able to witness, focusing on the happy times before she was crushed by her friends.

Perhaps now they might have the chance to dance once more.

Spike’s lips curved up in the first genuine smile since Buffy’s death as he felt the first flames caress his back. There was no pain, only a sense of exultation as he pressed his lips to the earth beneath him. If anyone had been there to witness his death, they would have been in awe of the way his blue eyes lit up with love, and the peace and joy that shone brightly from his charred face before it turned to dust.

The sun glowed brilliantly. Its rays stretching out to paint the earth with its warmth, and at the birth of a new day, a shower of ash drifted down to settle lovingly on a fallen warrior’s grave.

The End

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