All You've Got
Disclaimer: So… Buffy… totally mine. I rent her out and that's how I got all this cash.
Okay, so not really. Buffy is not mine. She and all her totally awesome friends are Joss Whendon's. And the cash is from the Monopoly game in my closet.
And that really sucks.
A/N: So, this is a little something I wrote. I'm thinking of continuing it, but aren't sure at the moment. Tell me what you think!
It had finally happened. The other guy had won. The bad guy had beaten her. She lost. And he was going to kill her. She was going to die.
And Angelus was going to do it. He was going to be her downfall. Ironic, wasn't it? Her only lover to be the only winner. The one to take her heart, her body, about to be the one toalso take her life.
His words mocked her helplessness.
"Now, that's everything, huh?"
She refused to do it, to flinch, to admit defeat, to give up, to give him that power over her.
"No weapons, no friends, no hope. Take all that away… and what's left?"
Suddenly, Buffy's mind was spinning back to earlier that day, when she had bumped into Whistler at Angel's apartment. His words played through her head.
'In the end, you're always by yourself. You're all you've got. That's the point.'
The image of his face drifted away, melting into darkness as his voice echoed in her mind.
'You're all you've got…'
That was right. She didn't have a weapon. But she didn't need one. She didn't have her friends with her. But they weren't the Slayer. And, no, she didn't have hope. She offered hope. To those she protected. For those she saved. To the unsuspecting world.
She was a weapon all on her own. She was the one who protected her friends. She was the one who gave hope. She was the Slayer. She was what she had. All she had. She was what was left. And she was enough.
Slowly, as all these thought ran though her mind, her confidence in herself grew exponentially. Her expression hardened and she looked directly into Angelus' face as she opened her mouth to speak.
But her retort was stolen from her, as another voice echoed the word she had been about to proclaim.
"Me."
A voice with a British accent.
Angelus began to spin around, to face the new threat, but a great stone statue collided with his head with a resounding 'thunk', sendinghim to the floor in a heap.
Buffy stared incredulously at the blonde-haired figure in black now standing in front of her, a smirk on his face.
"Spike?"
He met her gaze for a moment before turning back to the brunette on the floor. Swiftly, in the blink of an eye, the younger vampire had straddled his sire, bending at the waist to start punching him in the face. Left, right, left right…
"Good thing you can always rely on your enemies, eh Slayer? Even when everything else's gone, we don't leave." He spoke smoothly, as if he was discussing a football game while sitting on a sofa, rather than conversing with his enemy, currently beating the stuffing out of another vampire.
"You mean you don't leave," the blonde Slayer remarked, merely watching the beating. Angelus hadn't completely lost consciousness when Spike had knocked him upside the head with that statue, and he was beginning to stir. "Most vampires wouldn't stay."
Noticing Angelus was about to start resisting, Spike yanked him upright by the front of his shirt before immediately delivering more blows. "Hm," Spike dismissed Buffy's comment with an idle wave of his hand, "I never did fit into the 'Most Vampires' category."
"And – you totally stole my line," Buffy accused with her hands on her hips.
Spike rolled his eyes, not that she could see it.
"Oh, used up one of the Slayer's most precious quips, did I now? Which one was that?"
"I was gonna say 'Me' and it was gonna be all cool and woohoo 'I hold da power!' and 'I am strong woman!' and 'words can't bring me down!' and stuff…" the blonde teen whined with a pout.
As he grew a little more stable, Angelus started making moves to block Spike's attacks, but to no avail. He was still disoriented, and Spike already had the upper hand. "Willie," he grumbled angrily.
"Shut your gob," Spike demanded with a cold sneer.
During those few seconds, Buffy grew more serious.
"Though really, it is supposed to be down to just me. Whistler told me. I'm supposed to be it. I'm all I'm supposed to have."
Spike shot her a smirk. "Never was one for playing by the rules either, pet."
She frowned as Spike returned his full attention back to Angelus.
"What are you pla-"
"I told you to shut your great gob you prick!" Spike interrupted the brunette, accompanying his words with a series of kicks to Angelus' abdomen, causing the Irish vampire to gasp in pain for a moment.
"I'm going to make y-" Angelus threatened, eyes darkening. But again Spike interrupted him.
"You're gonna what now? Make me pay? I'm no fledge now, Angelus. Nor am I handicapped by that blasted chair. You're the one that's gonna pay," the British vamp retorted, months and years of mental and physical blows from this older vampire calling for vengeance.
The blonde threw a left hook to Angelus' jaw. "That's for mocking me in my chair."
A blow to the abdomen. "And for treating me like I was worthless."
Not taking a break from wailing on the brunette vamp, Spike called over to Buffy.
"Hey Slayer, wanna join up? It's mighty fun. And I get the feeling you got some frustrations to work out." He turned his face to give her a grin over his shoulder, allowing Angelus to get in a hit to the blonde's face.
"Oi!" he exclaimed, turning back to the other vamp. But before he got to swing back, Angelus stumbled forward, thrown off balance by the kick Buffy had delivered to his back.
"You're right," she told Spike, a fire burning in her eyes. "That does feel good."
She kicked him again, this time at his knees, "That's for ruining my life!"
"Something we have in common, luv," Spike commented, eyes gleaming as he gleefully took in the beating the Slayer was laying on Angelus.
"And for making me feel weak!" she kicked him again, sending him stumbling right over to Spike. She gestured for the blonde vampire to take a turn. He grinned at her before scowling at the brunette vamp in front of him.
"That's for taking Dru away from me!" he exclaimed, his blow throwing Angelus back to the Slayer.
"And for kidnapping my Watcher!"
He went stumbling back towards Spike.
"And for shaggin' her in front of me!"
Again to the Slayer.
"And for torturing him!"
Angelus was tossed between the two blondes like a beanbag.
"And for leaving us!"
"And for killing Miss Calendar!"
"And for never taking care of Dru!"
"And leaving Giles to findher like that!"
"And making her insane!"
"And for Willow's fish!"
"And for – wait, what about fish?"
"Oh, he killed Willow's fish and strung 'em up and left 'em on her bed!"
"Red?"
"Yup."
"Ah, poor chit… she's so sweet, too. Another for Red."
"Oh, and dragging my friends into this!"
"And all those beatings when I was a fledge!"
"And those drawings of us!"
"And never accepting me!"
"And taking my innocence!"
"Telling me I was stupid and did everything wrong!"
"Making me doubt myself!"
"Always being better than me!"
"Calling me 'lover!'"
"Being such a coward!"
"Making me feel like dirt!"
"Making me admire you!"
"Making me love you!"
Suddenly, the fire in the blonde Slayer's eyes seemed to burst even brighter. Spike stepped back, allowing her to take some time by herself.
"Making me lie to my own mom!"
She knocked him to the ground and straddled his chest, delivering blows to his already marred face.
"Keeping secrets! Being mysterious! Never taking risks! Always confusing me! Not telling me you were a vampire! Giving foggy warnings! Leaving me to do the dirty work!" With a frown, Spike noticed that tears were streaming down the powerful girl's face. "That thing with the ghosts, kissing me again, loving me again, not loving me without your soul, stealing my heart, taking my body, making me hate you, making me have to kill you when," she paused, her trembling hands moving to cover her mouth and wipe away her tears, "When I still love you."
As much as Spike enjoyed watching the blonde Slayer beat Angelus to a bloody pulp, as much as he hated the killer of his kind, something inside him couldn't stand the sight of such a strong woman broken and devastated, crying like a helpless little girl. And just then he knew he couldn't let her kill Angelus. It would tear her up inside.
Angelus was out cold on the floor, so Buffy didn't bother worryingabout him getting away while she retrieved her sword. So that she could finish the job. And... get rid of him. Her body protested as she wandered around the open space, eyes searching everywhere for the sword Kendra had brought with her. But she couldn't find it. The only weapon in the vicinity seemed to be the one Angel - no, Angelus - had yanked from Acathla. Grudgingly, she kicked the blade into the air and caught its handle in her right hand. She let her eyes drift closed for a moment. It was time. She was ready. She had to be.
Taking a deep breath, she headed back to the place where she had left Angelus. But as she grew closer, she was startled to see Spike holdingthe sword she had been searching for over the prone Angelus. She froze, merely watching as Spike did what she knew he was going to do.
"And this… this is for the Slayer," Spike growled at the figure by his feet. She still couldn't see Angelus' body - her view was obstructed. Then the blonde tilted his head to one side. "And just because I hate you."
A satisfied smirk covered his face as he lifted the blade and brought it back down into Angelus' undead flesh, sufficiently slicing his head from his body before it all turned to dust.
All at once, the reality of Angelus' death fell upon Buffy's mind and shoulders, bringing her to her knees with a gasp. The sword pulled from Acathla slipped from her fingers and clanked to the floor.
Spike's head immediately jerked to her direction, his eyebrows meeting in confusion.
"Watsa matter, pet?"
Buffy was silent for a moment. Staring at the peroxide blonde but not yet answering his question.
"You... you killed him," she whispered, still staring at him but not seeming to really see him. He started walking towards her, swing her sword in his hands. "He's... he's gone."
"Yeah, that he is. Poof, gone," Spike was tempted to smile at his double entendre, but the only thing to hold his face was a frown. Slowly, he crouched down to the Slayer's level and tilted his head, wondering what was going on in that pretty little blonde-covered head of hers.
Suddenly, her eyes grew cold. "You killed him! I was supposed to do it!" She stood and when he followed, she starting hitting him, pounding her closed fists on his chest. But something wasn't right. It didn't hurt. "I was supposed to kill him! It was supposed to give me closure! It was supposed to make me not feel this way!" In the blink of an eye, the half-hearted blows ceased and she sagged against him, sobbing into his shirt and holding herself up by his shoulders. "Help me... stop feeling... broken... make it... better..." William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers, had Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer, vulnerable and crying in his arms, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. A part of him – a small, soft, poncey part of him – felt like he should comfort her. Most of him just thought, 'Well, this is awkward.'
But fortunately for Spike's tough reputation, all of him was thoroughly distracted by a bright, swirling light.
"Uh, Slayer? Lookslike something else has a more pressing need of closure."
Buffy raised her head from his chest and looked up at him. Spike took in her face at that moment – waterlines streaking down her cheeks, tears still clouding her shattered, green eyes, and filled with a childlike lack of understanding that matched the pout of her lips – he couldn't think of a time he ever wanted to reach out and help someone more than he did her right then. But he couldn't. Acathla was opening.
With a sigh, he gestured towards the place where the statue stood, though the entire stone monster was veiled by the glowing vortex.
"Oh my gosh," Buffy whispered in horror. Then she spun herself around his body to stare at the place where Angelus' ashes lay. "Oh my gosh! You killed him!"
Spike frowned, couldn't she move past that already? They had to close Acathla. She had to focus. "Yeah, pet, I know, but can we focus on the dark, chaotic circle of colors about to drag us all into Hell and how to close it?"
"You don't get it!" Buffy's eyes were wide with panic. "Angelus! That's how we close it! I needed to use my sword and stab him right into the statue! And he's dust!"
Spike's mind whirled. After everything, it was no use. The world was going to fall into Hell anyways. Despite anything he or the Slayer did. No more dog running. Au revoir, Manchester United. Sayonara, Happy Me- wait, what was the Slayer saying?
She was pacing now, "- only his blood will work. What am I supposed to do now? His bl-"
Spike grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face him. "Wait a bleedin' second, it's his blood?"
"Yes, Spike! His blood! Which is gone! Dust! Poof!"
Processing this new information, his hands slid from her shoulders and she started pacing again, leaving him in his thoughts. "I wonder if family blood would work," the blonde vampire mumbled to himself. Could he do it? Would he? Give his unlife to keep the world Hell-free?
Buffy froze. "Family blood… you mean, vampire family?"
Spike nodded absently.
"Like you? Or Drusilla?"
He nodded again, still lost in his thoughts.
Buffy's expression hardened. "Where is she?"
The vampire was thrown out of his thoughts. "Who?"
"Drusilla."
His eyes widened with the connotations. "NO!" he protested.
"I need to close that portal. And if her death is the price, I don't have a problem with it."
Buffy grabbed her sword out of his hand and started walking back towards the portal, and the last place she had seen the female vampire.
"I can't let you kill her," Spike insisted, running up to her and taking hold of her right arm, spinning her around to face him.
"It's you or her, Spike. I need that blood," Buffy responded, glaring up at him.
"Me."
The word slipped from Spike's mouth almost automatically, as if there was no other possible answer, and any other response would be unnatural. Ever so slightly, Buffy tilted her head to the left, eyes softening from the hard ice they had been a moment before, studying the blue ones of the vampire in front of her. Her next words were slow, and almost gentle, "Spike… she cheated on you. She attacked you. Why die to save her? She obviously doesn't love you."
"But I love her, Slayer."
Buffy continued to search his eyes, as if looking for something in particular. He didn't know if she found it, but a second later she turned away.
"You gotta swear you'll leave her alone," Spike demanded to her back.
The blonde girl didn't even bother to face him as she stood in front of the swirling lights coming from Acathla. "I will, Spike. I promise."
He seemed satisfied with her answer, nodding to himself before walking up to stand in front of her, between her and the swirling vortex. He studied her face one last time, and was amazed to she her struggling not to cry again.
"Hand me the sword," he prodded gently, reaching out his left hand. The Slayer slowly flipped the blade around and offered him the handle, her green eyes meeting his blue ones once again. A part of him was pleased to find them no longer shattered. They were nowhere near to being completely whole yet, but progress had already begun.
Spike spun the sword in his hand towards himself and started to take small, slow steps backward, never breaking eye contact with the other blonde. A random thought popped into his head.
"Hey Buffy," he called softly.
"Yeah Spike," she practically whispered back.
"I'm going to save the world."
A sad smile and half-laugh, half-sob escaped her mouth and he grinned at her before plunging the blade into his chest. Looking into her eyes and grinning like a kid with an ice cream cone, he disappeared with the closing portal.
In front of the silent stone statue of Acathla, Buffy Summers fell to her knees.